“Thursday, April 1. Went in the evening to the soiree of the Chevalier Vernet, director of the French Academy.  He is a gentleman of elegant manners and sees at his soirees the first society in Rome.  His wife is highly accomplished and his daughter is a beautiful girl, full of vivacity, and speaks English fluently....  During the evening there was music; his daughter played on the piano and others sang.  There was chess, and, at a sideboard, a few played cards.  The style was simple, every one at ease like our soirees in America.  Several noblemen and dignitaries of the Church were present.”

On April 4, Palm Sunday, he attended the services at the Sistine Chapel, which he found rather tedious, with much mummery.  Going from there to the cancellerie he describes the following scene:—­

“Cardinal Giulio Maria della Somaglia in state on an elevated bed of cloth-of-gold and black embroidered with gold, his head on a black velvet cushion embroidered with gold, dressed in his robes as when alive.  He officiated, I was told, on Ash Wednesday.  Four wax-lights, two on each side of the bed; great throng of people of all grades through the suite of apartments—­the cancellerie—­in which he lived; they were very splendid, chiefly of crimson and gold.  The cardinal has died unpopular, for he has left nothing to his servants by his will; he directed, however, that no expense should be spared in his funeral, wishing that it might be splendid, but, unfortunately for him, he has died precisely at that season of the year (the Holy Week) when alone it is impossible, according to the church customs, to give him a splendid burial.”

“Wednesday, April 7. Went to the Piazza Navone, being market-day, in search of prints.  The scene here is very amusing; the variety of wares exposed, and the confusion of noises and tongues, and now and then a jackass swelling the chorus with his most exquisite tones.

“At three o’clock went to St. Peter’s to see ceremonies at the Sistine Chapel.  Cardinals asleep; monotonous bawling, long and tedious; candles put out one by one, fifteen in number; no ceremonies at the altar; cardinals present nineteen in number; seven yawns from the cardinals; tiresome and monotonous beyond description.

“After three hours of this most tiresome chant, all the candles having been extinguished, the celebrated Miserere commenced.  It is, indeed, sublime, but I think loses much of its effect from the fatigue of body, and mind, too, in which it is heard by the auditors.  The Miserere is the composition of the celebrated Allegri, and for giving the effect of wailing and lamentation, without injury to harmony, it is one of the most perfect of compositions.  The manner of sustaining a strain of concord by new voices, now swelling high, now gradually dying away, now sliding imperceptibly into discord and suddenly breaking into harmony, is admirable.  The imagination is alive and fancies thousands of people in the deepest contrition.  It closed by the cardinals clapping their hands for the earthquake.”