r great god St
Antony. He is there known as "Il Santo" (the saint), and has a gorgeous
temple erected in his honour, crowned with not less than eight cupolas,
and illuminated day and night by golden lamps and silver candlesticks,
which burn continually before his shrine. "There are narrow clefts in
the monument that stands over him," says Addison, "where good Catholics
rub their beads, and smell his bones, which they say have in them a
natural perfume, though very like apoplectic balsam; and, what would
make one suspect that they rub the marble with it, it is observed that
the scent is stronger in the morning than at night." Were the precious
metals and the costly marbles which are stored up in this church
transmuted into current coin, the whole province of Padua might be
supplied with ploughs and other needful implements of agriculture. But
it is better that nature alone should cultivate their fields, and that
the Paduans should eat only what she is pleased to provide for them,
than that, by robbing the shrine of St Antony, they should forfeit the
good esteem of so powerful a patron, "the thrice holy Antony of Padua;
the powerful curer of leprosy, tremendous driver away of devils,
restorer of limbs, stupendous discoverer of lost things, great and
wonderful defender from all dangers."

The miracles and great deeds of "the saint" are recorded on the tablets
and bas-reliefs of the church. His most memorable exploit was his
"preaching to an assembly of fishes," whom, "when the heretics would not
regard his preaching," says his biographer, "he called together, in the
name of God, to hear his holy Word." The congregation and the sermon
were both extraordinary; and, if any reader is curious to see what a
saint could have to say to a congregation of fishes, he will find the
oration quoted _ad longam_ in "Addison's Travels." The mule on which
this great man rode was nearly as remarkable as his master. With a
devotion worthy of the mule of St Antony, he left his hay, after a long
fast, to be present at mass. The modern Paduans, from what I saw of
them, fast quite as oft and as long as Antony's mule; whether they are
equally punctual at mass I do not know.

My stay in Padua extended only from four in the afternoon till nine at
night. The hours wore heavily, and I sought for a restaurant where I
might dine. I was fortunate enough at length to discover a vast hall, or
shed I should rather say, which was used as a restaurant. Some