of the suicide was shovelled into
the earth, and nettles will soon be growing rankly over his grave, and
the sexton will throw thorns and weeds from the other graves upon it."

NINETEENTH EVENING.

"I come from Rome," said the Moon. "In the midst of the city, upon one
of the seven hills, lie the ruins of the imperial palace. The wild fig
tree grows in the clefts of the wall, and covers the nakedness thereof
with its broad grey-green leaves; trampling among heaps of rubbish,
the ass treads upon green laurels, and rejoices over the rank
thistles. From this spot, whence the eagles of Rome once flew abroad,
whence they 'came, saw, and conquered,' our door leads into a little
mean house, built of clay between two pillars; the wild vine hangs
like a mourning garland over the crooked window. An old woman and her
little granddaughter live there: they rule now in the palace of the
Caesars, and show to strangers the remains of its past glories. Of the
splendid throne-hall only a naked wall yet stands, and a black cypress
throws its dark shadow on the spot where the throne once stood. The
dust lies several feet deep on the broken pavement; and the little
maiden, now the daughter of the imperial palace, often sits there on
her stool when the evening bells ring. The keyhole of the door close
by she calls her turret window; through this she can see half Rome, as
far as the mighty cupola of St. Peter's.

"On this evening, as usual, stillness reigned around; and in the full
beam of my light came the little granddaughter. On her head she
carried an earthen pitcher of antique shape filled with water. Her
feet were bare, her short frock and her white sleeves were torn. I
kissed her pretty round shoulders, her dark eyes, and black shining
hair. She mounted the stairs; they were steep, having been made up of
rough blocks of broken marble and the capital of a fallen pillar. The
coloured lizards slipped away, startled, from before her feet, but she
was not frightened at them. Already she lifted her hand to pull the
door-bell--a hare's foot fastened to a string formed the bell-handle
of the imperial palace. She paused for a moment--of what might she be
thinking? Perhaps of the beautiful Christ-child, dressed in gold and
silver, which was down below in the chapel, where the silver
candlesticks gleamed so bright, and where her little friends sung the
hymns in which she also could join? I know not. Presently she moved
again--she stumbled; t