MARKET DAY IN PERUGIA Perugia, on its lofty hilltop, was reached by the two travellers before the sun had quite kissed away the early freshness of the morning.

Since midnight, there had been a heavy, rain, bringing infinite refreshment to the scene of verdure and fertility amid which this ancient civilization stands; insomuch that Kenyon loitered, when they came to the gray city wall, and was loath to give up the prospect of the sunny wilderness that lay below.

It was as green as England, and bright as Italy alone.

There was all the wide valley, sweeping down and spreading away on all sides from the weed grown ramparts, and bounded afar by mountains, which lay asleep in the sun, with thin mists and silvery clouds floating about their heads by way of morning dreams.
"It lacks still two hours of noon," said the sculptor to his friend, as they stood under the arch of the gateway, waiting for their passports to be examined; "will you come with me to see some admirable frescos by Perugino?
There is a hall in the Exchange, of no great magnitude, but covered with what must have been--at the time it was painted--such magnificence and beauty as the world had not elsewhere to show." "It depresses me to look at old frescos," responded the Count; "it is a pain, yet not enough of a pain to answer as a penance." "Will you look at some pictures by Fra Angelico in the Church of San Domenico ?" asked Kenyon; "they are full of religious sincerity, When one studies them faithfully, it is like holding a conversation about heavenly things with a tender and devout-minded man." "You have shown me some of Fra Angelico's pictures, I remember," answered Donatello; "his angels look as if they had never taken a flight out of heaven; and his saints seem to have been born saints, and always to have lived so.

Young maidens, and all innocent persons, I doubt not, may find great delight and profit in looking at such holy pictures.