ease and accidents; it is subtle and can pass through any substance
which is (apparently) solid to us, as, for instance, when Jesus appeared
in the midst of his disciples, "the doors being shut." It is not a clog
on the soul, continued Monsignor Vaughn; the spiritual body is the
vehicle of the soul and can waft its way through the air; it can walk
the air as the physical body walks the earth. It is not--as is the
physical body--the prison of the soul, but the companion of the soul.
This is all a very enlightened presentation of spiritual truth, and it
is little wonder that such preaching attracts large congregations. Holy
Week in Rome bears little resemblance now to that of the past. The Pope
is not visible in any of the ceremonials in any of the churches; and the
impressiveness of former Catholic ceremonials is greatly lessened.
Indeed, with the passing of the temporal power of the Pope, the
picturesqueness of Rome largely vanished.

Not, assuredly, from any lack of reverence for the colossal cathedral of
St. Peter's is that Basilica a resort for Sunday afternoons; it suggests
a social reunion, where every one goes, listens as he will to the music
of the Papal choir in the Chapel of the Sacrament, and strolls about the
vast interior where the promenade of the multitude does not yet disturb
in the least the vesper service in the chapel. Here one meets
everybody; the general news of the day is exchanged; greeting and
salutation and pleasant little conversational interludes mark the
afternoon, while the sun sinks behind the splendid pile of the Palazzo
Vaticano, and the golden light through the window of the tribune fades
into dusk. Can one ever lose out of memory the indescribable charm of
this leisurely sauntering, in social enjoyment, in the wonderful
interior of St. Peter's?

In the way of the regulation sight-seeing the visitor to Rome compasses
most of his duty in this respect on his initial sojourn and goes the
rounds that no one ever need dream of repeating. Once for all the
visitor to Rome goes down into the Catacombs; makes his appallingly hard
journey over Castel San Angelo, into its cells and dungeons, and to the
colossal salon in which is Hadrian's tomb; once for a lifetime he climbs
St. Peter's dome; drives out to old St. Agnes and descends into the
crypt; visits the Church of the Capucines and beholds the ghastly
spectacle of the monks' skulls; drives in the Appian Way; visits the
Palace of the Caesars, th