King of Spain, the Ex-King of Holland, and Prince Hereditary of Bavaria, and a few other Catholics of rank, they gaped at it, as at any other theatrical exhibition.

The Pope appeared very good-natured during his labours, and smiled when he came to the difficult task of mingling the water and the wine, in such proportions as should not seem too frugal, nor yet too free.

PAPAL CEREMONIES.

ON Palm Sunday, at the early hour of nine, the ceremonies commenced at the Pope's Chapel at the Palace of Monte Cavallo. Here were a benediction and distribution of palms, a procession through the great Hall, and High Mass.

It is not necessary to enter into the important details of the number of the Cardinals, the colour of their garments, the time when their attendants coil up their robes, or the number of genuflexions they make when they advance to receive the consecrated branch. The spectators were very numerous; and after Cardinals, and Bishops, and heads of religious orders had obtained this token of Papal favour, some laymen of rank approached to take their share in the honour and sanctity of the gift.

In the procession which followed through the great Hall, the Pope was covered in his chair of state, with a palm in his hand, and all chaunted the service, which was to commemorate the joy of the multitude, when our Saviour entered Jerusalem. Mass was afterwards celebrated; and the whole ceremony was quite as tiresome as that at Candlemas, when, much in the same manner, there was a consecration and distribution of candles, in memory of the purification of the Virgin.

On the following Wednesday, at the Sixtine Chapel, the first Miserere is sung, and can never be listened to without profound feeling. It is said that the music which was written for this chapel cannot be performed elsewhere with the same effect; and in a matter where fancy has so much play as in the effect of music, it can easily be imagined that the associations of the place should give an exquisite tone of sentiment to the whole. I shall never lose the recollection of the

solemn sensations produced by the first note of the "Miserere mei, Domine.". The evening had gradually shut in; I had been observing the Last Judgment of Michael Angelo, which occupies all the large space of wall behind the great altar. The scene had faded to my eye, until only the more vivid figures could be perceived; and when realities almost sunk into shades, and pictures seemed realities-as the lights upon the altar were all, save one, extinguished the Cardinals, and the whole assembly fell upon their knees, and in the dead silence, the choir chaunted, "Pity me, O God."

It was the single occasion in which, as a Protestant, I could not, and did not wish to restrain my sympathy. And so much did the music force each one to shrink from contact, and prepare for a spiritual supervision, that in the crowd I felt alone, and could willingly have wept in penitence for myself, and in adoring commiseration for my Lord.

A specimen from the services of a single day will prove the minuteness of the Romish ceremonial, and how far it is removed from the simplicity of the gospel. On the morning of the Thursday of the Holy Week, mass is celebrated by a Cardinal Deacon, or in his place, by the oldest Cardinal Bishop. The altar and the cross are covered with a white veil: the candles are all of white wax. Upon the covering of the altar is represented the dead body of Jesus Christ, supported by two angels. The Pope appears with a golden mitre on his head, and in a white garment. The Cardinals, with their violet caps, bow at the beginning of the mass. Before the elevation of the Host, twelve attendants, in red garments, with lighted torches, appear and kneel, six on each side of the altar.