, awake!" Never was a crueller comment upon the
irreconcilableness of these two things. Rome seeks to reconcile reform
and priestcraft.

But her eyes are shut, that they see not. O awake indeed, Romans! and
you will see that the Christ who is to save men is no wooden dingy
effigy of bygone superstitions, but such as Art has seen him in your
better mood,--a Child, living, full of love, prophetic of a boundless
future,--a Man acquainted with all sorrows that rend the heart of
all, and ever loving man with sympathy and faith death could not
quench,--_that_ Christ lives and may be sought; burn your doll of
wood.

How any one can remain a Catholic--I mean who has ever been aroused to
think, and is not biassed by the partialities of childish years--after
seeing Catholicism here in Italy, I cannot conceive. There was once a
soul in the religion while the blood of its martyrs was yet fresh
upon the ground, but that soul was always too much encumbered with
the remains of pagan habits and customs: that soul is now quite fled
elsewhere, and in the splendid catafalco, watched by so many white
and red-robed snuff-taking, sly-eyed men, would they let it be opened,
nothing would be found but bones!

Then the College for propagating all this, the most venerable
Propaganda, has given its exhibition in honor of the Magi, wise men of
the East who came to Christ. I was there one day. In conformity with
the general spirit of Rome,--strangely inconsistent in a country where
the Madonna is far more frequently and devoutly worshipped than God or
Christ, in a city where at least as many female saints and martyrs are
venerated as male,--there was no good place for women to sit. All
the good seats were for the men in the area below, but in the gallery
windows, and from the organ-loft, a few women were allowed to peep
at what was going on. I was one of these exceptional characters. The
exercises were in all the different languages under the sun. It would
have been exceedingly interesting to hear them, one after the
other, each in its peculiar cadence and inflection, but much of the
individual expression was taken away by that general false academic
tone which is sure to pervade such exhibitions where young men speak
who have as yet nothing to say. It would have been different, indeed,
if we could have heard natives of all those countries, who were
animated by real feelings, real wants. Still it was interesting,
particularly the language and mu