st of museums, galleries, and cabinets
is bewildering, and I should think a thorough study of the whole would
well-nigh occupy a lifetime; it is really daring presumption to rush
through in a day or two, and then be content to say you have "done"
these things, as so many tourists do.

Through these interesting rooms we wandered and wondered, longing for a
fuller comprehension of their contents, yet unable to linger, and almost
sated with the numerous beautiful objects demanding our attention on
every side. Sight-seeing of this kind is the most fatiguing pastime both
to body and brain that any one can indulge in; it is only possible to
note the more important objects. We were much struck by the Scala Regia,
a fine staircase by Bernini, in the centre of which is a gigantic
equestrian statue of Constantine, so placed that a fine ray of light
falls on it from above. This probably is typical of his conversion to
Christianity.

We visited the Pauline and Sistine Chapels, the latter of which contains
Michael Angelo's awful and in some sense revolting picture of the _Last
Judgment_; and many marvellous frescoes from scripture history by the
same great master. Wonderful and magnificent as these pictures are in an
artistic sense, I never see depicted these imaginary "heavens and hells"
without thinking--

"What is the heaven our God bestows?
No prophet yet, nor angel knows;
Was never yet created eye
Could see across eternity."

While doing this great work, Michael Angelo was only too evidently under
the bondage of the Papacy; for in this picture the Virgin Saint usurps
the place of our all-sufficing, merciful, and loving Saviour. All must
be saved (or lost?) only through Popes and Saints; no peace, even for
the dead, without money payment! It is in the Sistine Chapel that the
cardinals meet in conclave on the decease of a pope, to elect his
successor.

Still we wandered on through miles of pictures and sculpture, wondering
in amazement how these great men could have performed so much in a
single lifetime, remembering how little--how very little, we ourselves
accomplish, one day like another repeating, alas! the same sad story of
"Nothing done."

Perhaps the culminating centre of these galleries is the Pinacoteca,
which contains the choicest works of all. Chiefest among them is
Raphael's sublime and wonderful painting of _The Transfiguration_. "A
calm, benignant beauty shines over all this picture, and