in troops, and visited all the churches where solemn services were being performed. One especially was visited, because of its organ and music: the latter was so arranged, that in its tones nothing belonging to pastoral music was wanting,—neither the singing of the shepherds, nor the twittering of birds, nor the bleating of sheep.
On Christmas Day I saw the Pope and the whole consistory in St, Peter's, where he celebrated high mass, partly before and partly from his throne. It is of its kind an unequalled sight, splendid and dignified enough; but I have grown so old in my Protestant Diogenism, that this pomp and splendour revolt me more than they attract me. I, like my pious forefathers, am disposed to say to these spiritual conquerors of the world, "Hide not from me the sun of higher art and purer humanity."
Yesterday, which was the Feast of Epiphany, I saw and heard mass celebrated after the Greek rite. The ceremonies appeared to me more solemn, more severe, more suggestive, and yet more popular, than the Latin.
But there, too, I also felt again that I am too old for anything, except for truth alone. Their ceremonies and operatic music, their gyrations and ballet-like movements—it all passes off from me like water from an oilskin cloak. A work of nature, however, like that of a sunset seen from the Villa Madonna,—a work of art, like my much honoured Juno,—makes a deep and vivid impression on me.
And now I must ask you to congratulate me with regard to theatrical matters. Next week seven theatres will be opened. Anfossi himself is here, and will act "Alexander in India." A Cyrus also will be represented, and the "Taking of Troy " as a ballet. That assuredly must be something for the children!
