=

black crosses, hung with all the instruments of cred agony and passion; there were the crown of ,the hammer and nails, the pincers, the spear, onge; and perched over the whole, the cock that 1 to St. Peter's remorseful conscience. Thus, the fertile scene showed the never-failing benefiof the Creator towards man in his transitory state, symbols reminded each wayfarer of the Saviour's ely greater love for him as an immortal spirit. Beg these consecrated stations, the idea seemed to Donatello of converting the otherwise aimless =y into a penitential pilgrimage. At each of them ghted to kneel and kiss the cross, and humbly press rehead against its foot; and this so invariably, that alptor soon learned to draw bridle of his own accord. y be, too, heretic as he was, that Kenyon likewise a prayer, rendered more fervent by the symbols his eyes, for the peace of his friend's conscience, me pardon of the sin that so oppressed him.

only at the crosses did Donatello kneel, but at of the many shrines, where the Blessed Virgin in faded with sunshine and half washed out with

ers

looked benignly at her worshipper; or where as represented in a wooden image, or a bas-relief ster or marble, as accorded with the means of the t person who built, or restored from a mediæval aity, these places of wayside worship. They were where; under arched niches, or in little penthouses brick tiled roof, just large enough to shelter them; chaps in some bit of old Roman masonry, the foundwhich had died before the Advent; or in the wall country inn or farm-house, or at the midway point ridge, or in the shallow cavity of a natural rock, or pward in the deep cuts of the road. It appeared

to the sculptor that Donatello prayed the more earnestly and the more hopefully at these shrines, because the mild face of the Madonna promised him to intercede as a tender mother betwixt the poor culprit and the awfulness of judgment.

It was beautiful to observe, indeed, how tender was the soul of man and woman towards the Virgin mother, in recognition of the tenderness which, as their faith taught them, she immortally cherishes towards all human souls. In the wire-work screen, before each shrine, hung offerings of roses, or whatever flower was sweetest and most seasonable; some already wilted and withered, some fresh with that very morning's dew-drops. Flowers there were, too, that, being artificial, never bloomed on earth, nor would ever fade. The thought occurred to Kenyon, that flower-pots with living plants might be set within the niches, or even that rose-trees, and all kinds of flowering shrubs, might be reared under the shrines and taught to twine and wreathe themselves around; so that the Virgin should dwell within a bower of verdure, bloom, and fragrant freshness, symbolizing a homage perpetually new. There are many things in the religious customs of these people that seem good; many things, at least, that might be both good and beautiful, if the soul of goodness and the sense of beauty were as much alive in the Italians now as they must have been when those customs were first imagined and adopted. But, instead of blossoms on the shrub, or freshly gathered, with the dew-drops on their leaves, their worship, nowadays, is best symbolized by the artificial flower.

The sculptor fancied, moreover (but perhaps it was his heresy that suggested the idea), that it would be of happy influence to place a comfortable and shady seat beneath every wayside shrine. Then the weary and sun-scorched , while resting himself under her protecting shadght thank the Virgin for her hospitality. Nor, ce, were he to regale himself, even in such a conspot, with the fragrance of a pipe, would it rise en more offensively than the smoke of priestly

We do ourselves wrong, and too meanly esthe Holiness above us, when we deem that any enjoyment, good in itself, is not good to do re

.

Lever may be the iniquities of the papal system, it ise and lovely sentiment, that set up the frequent nd cross along the roadside. No wayfarer, bent ever worldly errand, can fail to be reminded, at ile or two, that this is not the business which oncerns him. The pleasure-seeker is silently aded to look heavenward for a joy infinitely greater now possesses. The wretch in temptation beholds 5s, and is warned, that if he yield, the Saviour's or his sake will have been endured in vain. The n criminal, whose heart has long been like a stone, throb anew with dread and hope; and our poor lo, as he went kneeling from shrine to cross, and oss to shrine, doubtless found an efficacy in these ; that helped him towards a higher penitence. ther the young Count of Monte Beni noticed the no, there was more than one incident of their that led Kenyon to believe that they were ator closely followed, or preceded, near at hand, by ne who took an interest in their motions. As it ne step, the sweeping garment, the faintly heard of an invisible companion, was beside them, as ent on their way. It was like a dream that had out of their slumber and was haunting them in ytime, when its shadowy substance could have neither density nor outline, in the too obtrusive light. After sunset, it grew a little more distinct.

"On the left of that last shrine," asked the sculptor, as they rode, under the moon, "did you observe the figure of a woman kneeling, with her face hidden in her hands?"

"I never looked that way," replied Donatello. “I was saying my own prayer. It was some penitent, perchance. May the Blessed Virgin be the more gracious to the poor soul, because she is a woman."

CHAPTER VIII.

PICTURED WINDOWS.

FTER wide wanderings through the valley, the two travellers directed their course towards its boundary of hills. Here, the natural scenery n's modifications of it immediately took a different From that of the fertile and smiling plain. Not Lently there was a convent on the hillside; or, e insulated promontory, a ruined castle, once the a robber chieftain, who was accustomed to dash rom his commanding height upon the road that below. For ages back, the old fortress had been

down its crumbling ramparts, stone by stone, s the grimy village at its foot. -road wound onward among the hills, which rose nd lofty from the scanty level space that lay beEhem. They continually thrust their great bulks the wayfarers, as if grimly resolute to forbid their , or closed abruptly behind them, when they still Co proceed. A gigantic hill would set its foot own before them, and only at the last moment, grudgingly withdraw it, just far enough to let reep towards another obstacle. Adown these heights were visible the dry tracks of many a