f such a
thing in a country where there "was no society." It did not seem to have
occurred to them that it might be worth while learning how it had come
to pass that, in a country where one stumbles at every step on the
stupendous memorials of a past civilization and knowledge, there is now
no society. At length, after many hours' riding, we drew up before a
tall white house, which the gray coat and bayonet of the Croat, and the
demand for passports, told me was a police office. It was the last
dogana on the Austrian territory. We were next requested to leave the
_diligence_ for a little. The day had not yet broke, but I could see
that we were on the brink of a deep and broad river, which we were
preparing to cross, but how, I could not discover, for I could see no
bridge, but only something like a raft moored by the margin of the
stream. On this frail craft we embarked, horses, _diligence_,
passengers, and all; and, launching out upon the impetuous current, we
reached, after a short navigation, the opposite shore. The river we had
crossed was the Po, and the craft which had carried us over was a _pont
colant_, or flying bridge. This was the frontier of the Papal States;
and now, for the first time, I found myself treading the sacred soil of
Peter's patrimony.

Peter, in the days of his flesh, was a fisherman; but some of his
brother apostles were tax-gatherers; and here was the receipt of custom
again set up. Both "toll" and "fishing-net," I had understood, were
forsaken when their Master called them; but on my arrival I found the
apostles all busy at their old trades: some fishing for men at Rome; and
others, at the frontiers, levying tribute, both of "the children" and of
"strangers;" for on looking up, I could see by the dim light a low
building, like an American log-house, standing at a little distance from
the river's brink, with a huge sign-board stuck up over the door,
emblazoned with the keys and the tiara. This told me that I was in the
presence of the Apostolic Police-Office,--an ecclesiastical institution
which, I doubt not, has its authority somewhere in the New Testament,
though I cannot say that I have ever met with the passage in my readings
in that book; but that, doubtless, is because I want the Church's
spectacles.

When one gets his name inserted in an Italian way-bill, he delivers up
his passport to the _conducteur_, who makes it his business to have it
viseed at the several stations which are pla