Christmas On The Capitol.

touchino' ingenuousness . Tho verses werc throughout of extreme simp licity ) with scarcely a word or a thought that might not have come spontaneously to the children ' s lips . And not the least wonderful thing was the effort of memory involved in tho performance , which occup ied at least twenty minutes ; never a slip or an instant ' s hesitation from beginning to end .

Whilst these things were in progress at tho lower end of the church , in the choir had begun the celebration of vespers , but this caused no interrup tion . The two ceremonies went on concurrently . AVhen the sinfino- grow loud , the children raised the pitch of their voices , so as still to be heard . There was constant accession to the throng within

the church ; peop le moved hither aud thither , now listening to the recitations , now regarding the illumined picture in the chapel , now kneelino- for a few minutes to participate in the evening office . As dusk fell , numerous candles were lighted in front of the various altars : the scene grew still more impressive amid this blending of

uncertain rays . I had moved away from the platform , but was recalled by thc sound of a voice considerabl y louder and more mature than those to which my ear had become accustomed ; at the same time a movement among the straying people indicated that some fresh attraction

had offered itself . On drawing near 1 saw that the stage was occupied by- a girl of at least twelve years old , aud ' of appearance far less sympathetic than the younger ones who had preceded her ; she was self-conscious iu pose and utterance , and her tones had a disagreeable hardness . Unfortunately these points were only- too much in

harmony with the matter of her recitation . This , I soon found , was a prose sermon , and the very last kind of sermon that should have been delivered at such a season and by such lips . Thc production , doubtless , of some unwisely zealous priest , it aimed at justifying the Christian reli g ion against modern disbelief . The arguments were

painfully trite , aud all their conventional feebleness was emphasised by the accents of triumphant infallibility in which the child had been taught to display them . She went through a long list of recorded miracles , the object of which had been to supply evidence of the truth of Christianity ; then , passing to the present , bore

witness that the signs and tokens of Heaven ' s power were still abundantly manifest to those who wished to read them . One rhetorical passage whicii occurred twice or thrice remains in my memory—partly because the manner in which it was thrown forth made it disagreeably like burlesque . Tace Dto ! Dio non tace ;

favella ! "And is God silent ? God is not silent ; he speaketh ! " But the culmination of impropriety and absurdity was reached in a period which began : 0 congiarati Jilosofanti ! " O ye philosophers conspired together ! " Willi dramatic gesture and accent the child fulminated against those who in our day deem themselves wise , and

gave them to understand that she , from the vantage ground of her simplicity and her purc-miudcdne . s . s , championed the faith against all such accursed foes . Finally , as in the other instances , came a prayer to the Holy Child : "May Thy blessing descend upon all , and

especially upon my parents and relatives . " The whole oration was long enough to have made a respectable sermon in a real pulpit , but thc constantly increasing audience followed it with close attention . As soon as the g irl rose from her knees and made her curtsey , there broke out a chorus of " Brava ! Brava !"

Here was the utterly false note , tho intrusion or modernism into what had thus far been so p leasant in its old-world naivete . And I think I am not wrong in saying that the " Brava ! " of the audience was worth just as little as the harangue itself . Not many days previous to this I had conversed with an Italian gentleman on the

religious state of his country ; his matter-of-fact remark was , "AVe have no religion . " As regards Italy in general , there can be small doubt that he spoke the truth . These peasants gathered iu Ara Cadi still have a faith , however , and the more pity to hear them applauding its unworth y defence against something they did not in the least understand .

Christmas On The Capitol.

Sorry not to have missed this detail , I quitted the church . The hour drew towards sunset ; I stepped aside to the corner of the little terrace , and stood for a long time looking westward , watching the colours of the sky . Crowds of people still came and went , ascending and descending the long marble stairs . The almanack vendors , the sellers of Bambini and of pastry still cried their goods ; night began to darken over Rome .

But before going my way , I again lifted the heavy curtain of thc door and re-entered the building . There was now no daylightwithin ; the recitations had come to an end , the choir was empty , and only a glimmer of tapers showed thc forms of those who moved between the draped pillars . As to thc tableau of the chapel , it had

vanished ; doors were drawn together in front of it . I was just iu time , however , to witness its momentary reappearance . Two of the Franciscan brothers , one holding a candle , came down the aisle , pushed back the sliding doors , and stepped up on to the stage , now

in gloom ; there one of them took the miraculous image from the Madonna ' s lap , and , turning to the cluster of observers , held it aloft . His companion knelt , so did many of the people . Then they descended , reclosed the chapel , and solemnl y bore away the Bambino to its wonted place of safety .

So I went out again with the departing crowd , walked down from the Capitol , and northwards towards the Corso . Here was a roar of traffic , and a glare of shop windows ; newsboys were crying tlieir papers , very much as they do in London , " La Hiforma ! La Biforma-l" There sounded the modern ring again ; I had been

spending a few hours with the ghost of old Rome , and now must return to the city of the present , to the capital of brand-new Italy , the centre of reform and progress . In the Piazza della Colonna I paused to appreciate this privilege . This square is so named from its centre being occupied by the column of Marcus Aurelius ; at present the column is surrounded b y globes of the electric light ; a favourite lounging place of the Romans . In the evening there are

always many groups standing about , discussing affairs and politics ¦ Midilprogresso . No better spot for submitting oneself to the strange impressions produced by the Rome of to-day . A monument raised by the Senate in honour of Marcus Aurelius , carved with p ictures of his triumphs , and you view it under thc electric li ght . Add the fact that on the summit of the pillar stands a statue of St . Paul , and surely one has matter enough for musing .

Yet , is the new world so vcry different from thc old ? One more recollection of this Christmas season by the Tiber . On an afternoon of delightful warmth and bri g htness , too precious to be passed within the walls of the Vatican , I rambled idly over the sacred ground of the Forum , and

thence to the Coliseum , where , by ruined stairs , I mounted to one of the great arches that look southward . There was scarcel y a chance that any other wanderer would seek this spot : in safe solitude I could sit ou the mossy travertine , and bask iu glorious sunlight , and marvel at the azure above the ruins on the Palatine . Below

me was Constantino ' s Arch . It is built over the Via Triumpltalis , along which the victorious armies entered old Rome ; the road is now called via San Gregorio , and will lead you out to the tomb-bordered Appian way . Before I had been here many minutes I became aware

of odd sounds from a field close by—disagreeable , monotonous shoutings of voices in unison , and the occasional harsh cry of someone giving orders . Only too evident what was going on ; the field at thc Celian hill is a drill-ground , and raw companies were going through their exercises .

Ihe Coliseum a quarried ruin ; the triumphs of the Triumphal way only read of in the history of a perished world ; but the soil of Home still sounding under the feet of men being trained to the art of slaughter . Thus far has il progresso brought us , and no further .

This single fact obscures all others ; this one point of similarity makes all differences trivial . So long as the Coliseum hears such sounds as these there is no distinction worth noting between our time and that of Romulus .

The Mark Master.

The Mark Master .

liv ilitu . llOJJEltT MOIUUS , I' . U . JI .

(> od trusts lo each a portion of His plan , And doth for honest labor wages give ; Wisdom and time he grantclh every man ,

And will not idleness and sloth forgive ; The week is waning fust—art thou prepared , 0 Laborer , for the Overseer ' s reward Y

Hast thou been waiting in lhe market here , Because no man hath hired thee ! rise and go ! The sun on the meridian doth appear ,

fho Master calls tlieu lo his service now , Rise up , and go wherever duly calls , And build with fervency the Temple walls .

The Mark Master.

Behold , within the heavenl y home above , One who hath done his life-tasks faithfull y ;

In the dark quarries all the week he strove , And " boro the heat and burden of the day ;" So when life ' s sun jLtassed downward to the West ) Richest refreshment was his lot , and rest .

So shall it be with theo , 0 toiling one ! However hard thine earthly lot may seem ; It is not long until the set of sun ,

Aud then the past will be a pleasing dream ; The Sabbath to the faithful laborer given , Is blest companionship , and rest , and heaven .