120 MEMOIR OF DM. IIAUVEY. 



has certainly been much increased since I came here, and I can 

 almost forgive Luther for breaking unity with the church of his 

 day. In theory, I still condemn him ; but really it is difficult 

 for flesh and blood to bear patiently with such lesser corruptions 

 as the Eoman Church is full of. How thankful ought we to be 

 to the heads of the English Church, who brought her (under 

 God) so safely through the troublous seas of those times — freed 

 her from the mud on which she had well-nigh stuck, and 

 launched her again into deep and pure water. And this was 

 comparatively in the dark ages, when men's minds were but be- 

 ginning to be awakened, and when the dangerous, because two- 

 edged, sword of Reform was placed in inexperienced, though 

 zealous hands. 



21st. It is almost time to bring this letter to a close. It has 

 lain by while I have been running about from one sight to 

 another, enjoying the moments as they pass. Well, the Easter 

 mummery is over, and I am heartily glad to get done with it. 

 The prettiest sight of the whole was the illuminations — St. Peter's 

 on Sunday night, and the fireworks from St. Angelo on Monday. 

 Imagine the vast mass of St. Peter's lighted up with some 5000 

 lamps from the base to the cross above. These have much the 

 effect of the brass nails ranged in lines on a large black trunk. 

 This for the first hour. Then, at a given signal, instantly 

 sprang into life thousands of naming torches, which converted 

 the whole surface of the church into a blaze of light. At a little 

 distance, say a mile or so, where the whole could be taken in 

 at a glance, it had greatly the character of a diamond-beetle 

 under the microscope', the flitting of the lights adding much to 

 the brilliancy. The fireworks from St. Angelo were splendid, 

 but nothing very emblematical of the day. They were said to 

 represent an eruption of Mount Vesuvius. The crowd were 

 orderly and very quiet, and our pockets were not picked. Italy 

 is a glorious climate, but a sorry people — liars from beginning 

 to end, beggars from the highest to the lowest. 



From Naples we go by sea to Leghorn, and then visit 

 Florence, Milan, and Venice. I propose to start from Trieste 

 for Resiua on the second of June, and then homeward by the 

 shortest route. 



