impression made upon his mind. The expression of
the frescos of Domenichino is not inharmonious with the suggestions of
this statue.

Finding the Mass was not to begin for some time, I set out for the
Quirinal to see the Pope return from that noble church, Santa Maria
Maggiore, where he officiated this night. I reached the mount just
as he was returning. A few torches gleamed before his door; perhaps a
hundred people were gathered together round the fountain. Last year an
immense multitude waited for him there to express their affection in
one grand good-night; the change was occasioned partly by the weather,
partly by other causes, of which I shall speak by and by. Just as he
returned, the moon looked palely out from amid the wet clouds, and
shone upon the fountain, and the noble figures above it, and the
long white cloaks of the Guardia Nobile who followed his carriage
on horseback; darker objects could scarcely be seen, except by the
flickering light of the torches, much blown by the wind. I then
returned to San Luigi. The effect of the night service there was very
fine; those details which often have such a glaring, mean look by day
are lost sight of in the night, and the unity of impression from the
service is much more undisturbed. The music, too, descriptive of that
era which promised peace on earth, good-will to men, was very sweet,
and the _pastorale_ particularly soothed the heart amid the crowd, and
pompous ceremonial. But here, too, the sweet had its bitter, in the
vulgar vanity of the leader of the orchestra, a trait too common in
such, who, not content with marking the time for the musicians, made
his stick heard in the remotest nook of the church; so that what would
have been sweet music, and flowed in upon the soul, was vulgarized to
make you remember the performers and their machines.

On Monday the leaders of the Guardia Civica paid their respects to
the Pope, who, in receiving them, expressed his constantly increasing
satisfaction in having given this institution to his people. The same
evening there was a procession with torches to the Quirinal, to pay
the homage due to the day (Feast of St. John, and name-day of the
Pope, _Giovanni Maria Mastai_); but all the way the rain continually
threatened to extinguish the torches, and the Pope could give but a
hasty salute under an umbrella, when the heavens were again opened,
and such a cataract of water descended, as drove both man and beast to
seek the