Ambrosio spoke these words with an earnestness unusual in him, and with something of a tone which marked a zeal for proselytism, and at the same time he cast his eyes on the rosary which was suspended round the neck of the stranger, and said, “I hope I am not indiscreet in saying our faith.”

The Stranger.—­I was educated in the ritual of the church of England; I belong to the Church of Christ; the rosary which you see suspended round my neck is a memorial of sympathy and respect for an illustrious man.  I will, if you will allow me, give you the history of it, which, I think from the circumstances with which it is connected, you will not find devoid of interest.  I was passing through France in the reign of Napoleon, by the peculiar privilege granted to a scavan, on my road into Italy.  I had just returned from the Holy Land, and had in my possession two or three of the rosaries which are sold to pilgrims at Jerusalem as having been suspended in the Holy Sepulchre.  Pius VII. was then in imprisonment at Fontainebleau.  By a special favour, on the plea of my return from the Holy Land, I obtained permission to see this venerable and illustrious Pontiff.  I carried with me one of my rosaries.  He received me with great kindness.  I tendered my services to execute any commissions, not political ones, he might think fit to entrust me with in Italy, informing him that I was an Englishman.  He expressed his thanks, but declined troubling me.  I told him I was just returned from the Holy Land, and bowing with great humility, offered to him my rosary from the Holy Sepulchre.  He received it with a smile, touched it with his lips, gave his benediction over it, and returned it into my hands, supposing, of course, that I was a Roman Catholic.  I had meant to present it to his Holiness, but the blessing he had bestowed upon it and the touch of his lips, made it a precious relic to me and I restored it to my neck, round which it has ever since been suspended.  He asked me some unimportant questions respecting the state of the Christians at Jerusalem; and on a sudden, turned the subject, much to my surprise, to the destruction of the French in Russia, and in an exceedingly low tone of voice, as if afraid of being overheard, he said, “The nefas has long been triumphant over the fas, but I do not doubt that the balance of things is even now restoring; that God will vindicate his Church, clear his polluted altars, and establish society upon its permanent basis of justice and faith.  We shall meet again.  Adieu!” and he gave me his paternal blessing.  It was eighteen months after this interview, that I went out with almost the whole population of Rome, to receive and welcome the triumphal entry of this illustrious father of the Church into his capital.  He was borne on the shoulders of the most distinguished artists, headed by Canova; and never shall I forget the enthusiasm with which he was received—­it is impossible to describe the shouts of triumph and