dying love, and the oneness of Christians in Him. The wonderful
associations of the place lent to such occasions a special interest
and solemnity. Surrounded by the ruins of man's glory, we felt deeply
how unchanging was the word of God. In a city of gorgeous ceremonials
that had changed Christianity into a kind of baptized paganism, we
felt it indescribably refreshing to partake, in the beautiful
simplicity of our own worship, of the symbols of the broken body and
shed blood of our Lord. We seemed to be compassed about with a great
cloud of witnesses, apostles, martyrs, and saints, who in the early
ages of the Church in this city overcame the world by the blood of the
Lamb, and by the word of their testimony, and loved not their lives
unto the death. More vividly than anywhere else, we seemed in this
place to come to the general assembly and church of the first-born,
which are written in heaven, and to the spirits of just men made
perfect, and to realise that we were built upon the foundation of the
apostles and prophets, Jesus Christ Himself being the chief
cornerstone.

On the opposite side of the road is the classic portico that leads to
the Borghese Villa. The gate is almost always open; and every person
is free to wander at will through the magnificent grounds, upwards of
three miles in circuit, and hold picnics in the sunny glades, and pull
the wild flowers that star the grass in myriads. On Sunday afternoons
multitudes come and go, and a long line of carriages, filled with the
Roman nobility and with foreign visitors, in almost endless
succession, make the circuit of the drives. The Porta del Popolo
becomes too strait for the seething mass of carriages and human beings
that pass through it; and it is with difficulty, and some danger to
life and limb, that one can force a passage through the gay
pleasure-loving crowd. At the Carnival time the ordinary dangers and