with my blood quickened by the exercise, and my mind inspired by the
thoughts of the service in which I was about to engage, I have lived
an intenser life and enjoyed a keener happiness than during all the
rest of the week. It was the hour of insight that struck the keynote
of all the others.

But far above even these precious memories, I must rank my walks to
church in Rome. What one feels elsewhere is deepened there; and the
wonderful associations of the place give a more vivid interest to all
one's experiences. I lived in the Capo le Case, a steep street on the
slope between the Pincian and Quirinal hills, situated about
three-quarters of a mile from the church outside the Porta del Popolo.
This distance I had to traverse every Sunday morning; and I love
frequently to shut my eyes and picture the streets through which I
passed, and the old well-known look of the houses and monuments. There
is not a more delightful walk in the world than that; and I know not
where within such a narrow compass could be found so many objects of
the most thrilling interest. For three months, from the beginning of
February to the end of April, twice, and sometimes four times, every
Sunday, I passed that way, going to or returning from church, until I
became perfectly familiar with every object; and associations of my
own moods of mind and heart mingled with the grander associations
which every stone recalled, and are now inextricably bound up with
them. With one solitary exception, when the weather in its chill winds
and gloomy clouds reminded me of my native climate, all the Sundays
were beautiful, the sun shining down with genial warmth, and the sky
overhead exhibiting the deep violet hue which belongs especially to
Italy. The house in which I lived had on either side of the entrance a
picture-shop; and this was always closed, as well as most of the other
places of business along the route. The streets were remarkably quiet;