Skip to main content

Full text of "Rome, in the nineteenth century; containing a complete account of the ruins of the ancient city, the remains of the middle ages, and the monuments of modern times"

See other formats


This  is  a  digital  copy  of  a  book  that  was  preserved  for  generations  on  library  shelves  before  it  was  carefully  scanned  by  Google  as  part  of  a  project 
to  make  the  world's  books  discoverable  online. 

It  has  survived  long  enough  for  the  copyright  to  expire  and  the  book  to  enter  the  public  domain.  A  public  domain  book  is  one  that  was  never  subject 
to  copyright  or  whose  legal  copyright  term  has  expired.  Whether  a  book  is  in  the  public  domain  may  vary  country  to  country.  Public  domain  books 
are  our  gateways  to  the  past,  representing  a  wealth  of  history,  culture  and  knowledge  that's  often  difficult  to  discover. 

Marks,  notations  and  other  marginalia  present  in  the  original  volume  will  appear  in  this  file  -  a  reminder  of  this  book's  long  journey  from  the 
publisher  to  a  library  and  finally  to  you. 

Usage  guidelines 

Google  is  proud  to  partner  with  libraries  to  digitize  public  domain  materials  and  make  them  widely  accessible.  Public  domain  books  belong  to  the 
public  and  we  are  merely  their  custodians.  Nevertheless,  this  work  is  expensive,  so  in  order  to  keep  providing  this  resource,  we  have  taken  steps  to 
prevent  abuse  by  commercial  parties,  including  placing  technical  restrictions  on  automated  querying. 

We  also  ask  that  you: 

+  Make  non-commercial  use  of  the  files  We  designed  Google  Book  Search  for  use  by  individuals,  and  we  request  that  you  use  these  files  for 
personal,  non-commercial  purposes. 

+  Refrain  from  automated  querying  Do  not  send  automated  queries  of  any  sort  to  Google's  system:  If  you  are  conducting  research  on  machine 
translation,  optical  character  recognition  or  other  areas  where  access  to  a  large  amount  of  text  is  helpful,  please  contact  us.  We  encourage  the 
use  of  public  domain  materials  for  these  purposes  and  may  be  able  to  help. 

+  Maintain  attribution  The  Google  "watermark"  you  see  on  each  file  is  essential  for  informing  people  about  this  project  and  helping  them  find 
additional  materials  through  Google  Book  Search.  Please  do  not  remove  it. 

+  Keep  it  legal  Whatever  your  use,  remember  that  you  are  responsible  for  ensuring  that  what  you  are  doing  is  legal.  Do  not  assume  that  just 
because  we  believe  a  book  is  in  the  public  domain  for  users  in  the  United  States,  that  the  work  is  also  in  the  public  domain  for  users  in  other 
countries.  Whether  a  book  is  still  in  copyright  varies  from  country  to  country,  and  we  can't  offer  guidance  on  whether  any  specific  use  of 
any  specific  book  is  allowed.  Please  do  not  assume  that  a  book's  appearance  in  Google  Book  Search  means  it  can  be  used  in  any  manner 
anywhere  in  the  world.  Copyright  infringement  liability  can  be  quite  severe. 

About  Google  Book  Search 

Google's  mission  is  to  organize  the  world's  information  and  to  make  it  universally  accessible  and  useful.  Google  Book  Search  helps  readers 
discover  the  world's  books  while  helping  authors  and  publishers  reach  new  audiences.  You  can  search  through  the  full  text  of  this  book  on  the  web 


at|http  :  //books  .  google  .  com/ 


Library 


Digitized  by 


Google 


ektoh 


Digitized  by 


Google 


Digitized  by 


Google 


Digitized  by 


Google 


Digitized  by 


Google 


^■^i 


BOHirS  ILLUSTRATED  LIBRABY. 


ROME, 

IN   THE    NINETEENTH    CENTURY. 


VOL.  U. 


Digitized  by 


GcWgle 


Digitized  by 


Google 


Digitized  by 


Google 


Digitized  by 


Google 


arr    THJ5 

VOX.  olio 


i*^^-im.  1  .■  J  ^*i-i. 


TEMPLE     OF     PALLAS. 


LOWDON   HIJTRY    0    BOHN 


Digitized  by 


Google 


Ai'  Ort,  I-r.>    ^X    ^Nf)       I 


1 


j       TTIF  ::^  '.' V;"t       I 

i  PUBLIC  I        \'{  \ 


■am 


Digitized  by 


Google 


ROME, 


TS  THB 

NINETEENTH  CENTURY; 

OOTStTAJSISQ 

A  COMFLETB  ACCOUNT  OF  THE  BUINS  OF  THE  AKCIBNT  CITY, 

THE  BEMAINS  01*  THE  MIDDLE  AGES,  AND  THE 

MONUMENTS  OF  MODEBN  IHMES. 


mSMABKB  OV  THX  TIMS  AllTS,  THX  VUnUXS   OT  SCULnUBlS  AND  tAJjmVQf 

TBS  XAHnSU,  CUSTOMS,  AND  XXLIOIOUS    CKXIXONIIS, 

OT    THE    MODXSN    BOXAIIS. 


By.CHAELOTTE   a.   EATON. 


FIFTH    EDITION. 

TO    WHICH    IS    NOW    FIRST    ADDED    A    COMPLETE    INDEX, 

AND  THTBTY-FOUS  ENORAVED   ILLUSTRATIONS. 


IN  TWO  VOLUMES. — ^VOL.  II, 


Honlroii : 

HBNEY  G.^BOHN,  YORK  STREET,  CO  VENT  GARDEN. 

1852. 


Digitized  by 


Google 


M 


PBIKTBD  BT  HABBISO^  AND  SOV, 

LOHDOM   GAZZTTS  OFFTCK,  ST.  MABTIH'S  LANK; 

AND, 

OBCHAKD  STKEET,  WESTVINSTEK. 


^ 


Digitized  by 


Google 


CONTENTS 


VOLUME    THE   SECOND. 


LSTTER  Ll. 

-Paintings-*  Fresoos — Raphael's  Sibyls  and  Isaiah — 
rAogostines  —  Benedictines  —  Frescos  of  Domenichlno  and 
F-Giudo-^Angel's  sapper  with  St.  Ghregory — A.  meeting  wit^ 
[l^  Pope — %hiido's  Archangel — ^The  Capuchins— Trinity  de' 
I  Monti — ^Ruined  Frescos — Tomb  and  Habitation  of  Clande 
'  Iioaraine 


Pige 


LETTER  LIL 

of  Ara  Coeli — Steps  ascended  on  the  knees  by  Julius 
Cffisar,  and  the  Modem  Italians — Theatrical  Prsesepio— 
General  of  the  Frandacaos — ^Miraculous  Bambino— Sacred 
Island — iElscnlapius  and  St.  Bartholomew— Indulgences — 
Trastevere  and  Trasteverini — Assassination — Games — Con- 
vents— Tasso's  Tomb— View  of  Rome  from  Mount  Jani- 
culum — Comparison  between  Fhgan  Temples  and  Christian 
Churches. 


16 


LETTER  LIII. 


The  Fountains  of  Rome 


Digitized  by 


Google 


IV  CONTENTS. 


'  LETTER  LIV. 

Tage 
The  Vatican  Library 3a 

LETTER  LV. 

The  Sistine  Chapel — ^Tlic  Last  Jndgment — ^Michael  Angclo — ^The 

Paolina  Chapel — Sala  Borgia 39 

LETTER  LVI. 
The  Camerc  of  Raphael 46 

LETTER  LVIL 
The  Loggic  of  Raphael — The  Paintings  in  the  Vatican         .        .      56 

LETTER  LVIIL 
Museum  of  the  Capitol I'        •      62 

LETTER  LIX. 

The  Paintings  and  the  Palazzo  de*  Consenratori  in  the  Capitol — 

Academy  of  St.  Luke— Raphael's  St.  Luke— Raphael's  Skull        84 

LETTER  LX. 
Roman  Palaces — ^Palazzo  Dona 91 

LETTER  LXI. 
Palazzo  Colonna ,        .     100 

LETTER  LXII. 
Palazzi  Barberini  and  Sciarra 106 


Digitized  by 


Google 


V 


OOKXEITTS.  V 

LETTER  LXm. 

Pag« 
The   F&lazzi    Massimi    and    Spada — Pompey's    Statue — ^Palazzo 

Costagati — P&Iazzo  Mattel 113 


LETTEK  LXIV. 

Fasqnin — ^Palazzo    Brasclii— Palazzo    Giustiniaiii — ^Pantheon    bj 

Moonlight — Palazzo  Borghese    ......     120 


liETTBB  LXV. 
PyasEzo  Lndano       •••••••••     180 

LETTER  LXVL 
Palazzo  NuoYO  di  Torlonia—- Oanuiocim — OaTaUini's  CoUection      .    .198 

LETTER  LXVII. 
Cornni  Palace — ^Farnesina  and  the  Faiuese         •        •        •        •     137 

LETTER  LXVIII. 

Qairinal  Palace — ^Palazzo  Albani — Palazzo  Poniatowski — Gems — 
Staircase  of  the  Palazzo  Rnspoli — ^The  Nozze  Aldobrandini 
— Colussal  Finger  at  Palazzo  Altieri — Palazzo  Stoppani — 
RaphaeFs  House — Guido's  and  Guercino's  Aurora — Villa 
Ludovisi  and  Palazzo  Rospigliosi 14A 

LETTER  LXIX. 

Roman  Villas — ^Raphael's  Casino  and  Frescos — Borghese  Gardens 
— ^Italian  and  English  Gardening — Villas  Altieri,  Giraud* 
Pftmfili,  Doria,  and  Lanti — ^French  Academy — Utility  of  an 
English  Academy — ^Visit  to  Monte  Mario — ^Villa  Madama, 

Pastor  FidO'— Raphael's  Frescos Ig6 

a  8 


Digitized  by 


Google 


VI  COUTBHTS. 


LETTER  LXX. 

Page 
YiUaAlbani ]65 

LETTER  LXXL 
The  Pope 173 

LETTER  LXXIL 
Trooeesaaa  to  the  Mmerva— rPalm  SandAy  •        •        .        .    176 

LETTER  LXXHL 

The  Holy  Week— The  Miflerere— Holy  Thunday— ProoeMioii»— ^ 
The  Xnterment  of  Christ — Sepulchral  lUummationB  of  the 
Ftolina  Chapel— The  Washing  of  Feet— The  Serving  at 
Tbble — ^The  Penitenza  Maggiore— The  Cross  of  I^^re— The 
Adoration  by  the  Pope  and  Cardinals— The  Relics — Hln- 
minated  Sepfolchre  of  Christ  at  S.  Antonio  de'  Portoghed— 
Conoert  of  Sacred  Music 182 

LETTER  LXXIV. 
Good  Friday— The  Tre  Ore— The  Pilgrims         »        .        .        .    191 

LETTER  LXXV. 

Saturday — Baptism  of  the  Jews — ^An  Ordination — ^The  Resorrec- 

tion — ^BI»3sing  the  Horses — Confession  and  Communion  198 


LETTER  LXXVI. 
Sunday— The  Benediction 203 


Digitized  by 


Google 


COKSBITTS.  Tli 


LETTER  LXXVII. 

Page 
Bfaimiiuition  of  St.  Peier*s,  and  Fireworks  from  the  Castle  San 

Angelo .208 


LETTER  LXXVm. 
CcniTents— Taking  the  YeU •        .    212 

LETTER  LXXIX. 
Mizades 226 

LETTER  UOCL 
Blessingof  the  Horses — ^Festas — Italian  Manners       •  .     233 

LETTER  LXXXI. 
The  Carnival 252 

LETTER  LXXXII. 
Mnfflc  and  ihe  Drama 260 

LETTER  LXXXIIL 
ImprovTisatori — ^Accademie 272 


LETTER  LXXXIV. 
,  Literature  and  Science 279 


Digitized  by 


Google 


tm  COKTIKTB. 


LETTER  LXXXV. 

ChildlnTtli — ^Marriages  and  Funerals — ^Daneing^— Qame»-*OoiiUMn 

Stain — ^Food  of  the  Common  People,  &c 287 


LETTER  LXXXVI. 

Italian  Sculptors — Canora — ^Thorwaldsen — Schadow — Mosaics  and 
Cameos— Models — Works  in  the  Ftedous  Metals,  etc. 


LETTER  LXXXVII. 
Egina  Marbles 313 

LETTER  LXXXVIII. 
Hadrian's  Villa 318 

LETTER  LXXXIX. 

Tivoli  Cascades — Qrotto  of  Neptune — Siren's  Cave — ^Temple  of  the 
Sibyl,  and  other  remains  of  Antiquity — ^Tour  of  the  Hill — 
Villa  of  Meceenas — Lucien  Bonaparte's  Manufactories — ^Ruined 
Villas  of  the  Ancient  Romans — Excursion  to  Horace's  Sabine 
Farm — ^Mtyestic  Ruins  of  the  Aqueducts      ....     328 

LETTER  XC. 

Frascati— "^nilas  of  the  Modem  Romans — Cato — ^Porcian  Meadows 
Lake  Regillus — Rums  of  Tusculum — Site  of  Cicero's  ViDa — 
New  Excavations — ^Tusculum  and  Pompeii — Lucien  Bona- 
parte's Villa — Tomb  and  Villa  of  Lucullus — ^Monuments  to 
Cardinal  York  and  the  Pretender 34D 


Digitized  by 


Google 


coKTEisrrs. 


LETTER  XCI. 

Grotto  Ferrata — Cicero's  Tilla — ^Domenichino's  Frescos 


Pftgt 
360 


LETTER  XCII. 

Antiquities  of  Albano — ^The  Emissaiimn  of  the  Alban  Lake^ 
Ruins  of  Domitiaxi's  Villa — ^Tomb  of  Ascaniiu — ^Tomb  of 
Pompey — ^Alba  Longa — ^Antediluvian  Vases         .        .         .     355 

LETTER  XCIII. 

Ascent  of  the  Alban  Mount — Camp  of  Hannibal — ^Triumphal  Way 
— Convent  of  Friars — ^Volcanos — ^Lake  of  Kemi — ^Arida — 
Civita  Lavinia— Cora — ^Temple  of  Hercules — Cyclopean  Walls    302 

LETTER  XCIV. 
Frascati— -Banditti 373 

LETTER  XCV. 
Banditti 377 

LETTER  XCVI. 
Ostia  3S5 

LETTER  XCVII. 

Sunset  on  the  Bilatinc — ^The  Colosseum  and  the  Forum  by  Moon- 
light         38t> 


Digitized  by 


Google 


Digitized  by 


Google 


LIST    OF    PLATES. 
VOLUME   II. 

Pagt 

TiMPLE  OF  Pallas       ....      Fronti»pieee. 

Vintage  Feast  at  a  Villa  of  Trastevers              .            .  22 

Raphael's  Cartoons:  Paul  Preaching  at  Athens       .  46 
Apartment  in  a  Roman  Palace         .            .                        .91 

BoRGHESE  Palace     ......  124 

Villa  Madama               ......  164 

A  procession  of  Penitents          .            .            .            .  176 

Energetic  Preaching               .....  196 

Carnival;  the  Corso         .....  256 

TlYOLI^    FROM   THE   CoNVENT   OF   II    SaNTO   CoSIMATO                    •  328 

Temple  of  the  Sibyl          .....  330 

Cicero's  Villa  .......  350 

Castel  Gandolfo    ......  354 

Gensano,  on  the  Lake  of  Nemi        ....  368 


Digitized  by 


Google 


Digitized  by 


Google 


ROME. 


LETTER  LI. 

Chitbghes  —  PAiirraros  —  Frescos — Baphaxl's  Sibtls 
AiTD  Isaiah  —  Attottstikes  —  BEmfiDicrninBS — Fbeboos 
or  DoMEiacHiKO  akd  Guido— Angel's  Sttppeb  with 
St.  Q-begobt — ^A  Meeting  with  the  Pope — Gutdo's 
Abohanoel — The  Capuchiks — TbikitI  de'  Monti— 

EtTINED  PbESGOS — ^TOMB  AND  HABITATION   OE   ClAUDB 
LOBBAINE. 

Ik  my  last,  I  believe,  I  enumerated  the  few  cliurclies  in 
Borne  that  possess  anj  sculpture  worth  notice.  Those  that 
are  adorned  with  fine  paintings — or  paintings  that  were 
once  fine — are  far  more  numerous ;  but  these  have  generally 
suffered  so  much  &om  time,  neglect,  dirt,  damp,  and  smoky 
tapers,  that  their  beauties,  their  colouring,  and  even,  in 
many  instances,  their  yeiy  design,  are  no  longer  discernible ; 
80  that  you  may  go  fiur  to  look  at  altar-pieces  which  boast 
the  names  of  the  greatest  masters,  and,  after  all,  see  nothing. 
The  obscurity  of  the  lateral  chapels  of  the  gloomy  dd 
churches  in  which  they  are  hidden,  no  doubt,  is  one  cause 
of  this ;  and  many  of  them  might  yet  be  restored,  if  brought 
out  to  light,  and  properly  cleaned.  If  the  Pope  were  to  do 
this,  and  substitute  copies  in  their  place,  I  cannot  conceiye 
that  he  would  be  thought  to  have  committed  any  great 
crime,  eyen  by  the  most  orthodox  of  his  subjects.  At  all 
events,  the  Irench,  who  were  restrained  by  no  scruples 
with  regard  to  violating  church  property,  or  committing 

TOL.  n.  B 


Digitized  by 


Google 


2  BOXX. 

sacrilege^  and  of  whose  Ioto  for  the  arte  we  hear  so  mucliy 
and  see  so  little  proof^  miffht  surely  have  taken  them  out  of 
the  churches,  and  arranged  them  in  a  gallerj^  at  Borne. 

But,  unless  it  weie  to  ornament  Fans,  they  took  no 
thought  for  the  preserration  of  the  fragile  works  of  genius. 
They  have  heen  the  rohbers,  but  I  cannot  discover  how  they 
have  proved  themselves  the  protectors,  of  the  arts.  They 
plundered  Italv  of  its. most  valuable  portable  paintingB,  but 
they  left  all  the  untransportable  ones  to  pensh.  I  dlude 
more  particularly  to  the  frescos,  which,  to  the  disgrace  of 
the  past  and  present  government,  are  mouldering  away  on 
the  mildewed  walls  of  old  churches,  without  a  smgle  pre- 
caution being  used  to  check  the  rapid  progress  of  tneir 
decay. 

Neglect  and  iU-usafi;e  are  fast  obliterating  the  touches  of 
departed  genius;  and  those  beautiM  creations  will  soon 
pass  away,  whose  perfection  can  never  be  equalled,  and 
whose  loss  can  never  be  repaired. 

At  the  Church  of  Santa  Maria  della  Face,  above  the 
arches  of  the  nave,  are  the  four  Sibyls  of  Baphael.  They 
have  suffered  much  &om  time,  and  more,  it  is  said,  jfrom 
restoration ;  yet  the  forms  of  Baphael,  in  all  their  loveliness, 
all  their  sweetness,  are  still  before  us ;  they  breathe  all  the 
soul,  the  sentiment,  the  chaste  expression,  and  purity  oi 
design,  that  characterize  the  works  of  that  immortal  genius. 
The  dictating  Angels  hover  over  the  head  of  the  gifted 
Maids,  one  of  whom  writes  with  rapid  pen  the  irreversible 
decrees  of  Fate.  The  countenances  and  musing  attitudes  of 
her  sister  Sibyls  express  those  feelings  of  habitual  thought* 
fulness  and  pensive  sadness,  natural  to  those  who  are  cursed 
with  the  knowledge  of  futurity,  and  all  its  coming  evils — of 
crimes  which  they  cannot  prevent,  and  calamities  they  can- 
not avert. 

In  the  same  church  is  the  Presentation  to  the  Temple, 
by  Balthasar  Peruzzi — ^a  fine  fresco;  but  it  is  extremely 
difficult  to  turn  our  eyes  &om  the  works  of  Baphael  to  those 
of  Peruzzi. 

In  the  church  of  the  Augustines,  is  Baphael's  inimitable 
fresco  of  Isaiah — ^a  work  sufficient  of  itself  to  have  crowned 
his  name  with  immortality.    The  fire  and  fervour  of  the 


V 


Digitized  by 


Google 


AVBvvnn  ooimnfT.  S 

mcfphei  beam  fircmi  that  intpired  and  holy  eoniiteiiftDee. 
Even  in  force  and  sublimitr  it  will  bear  a  comjpariaon  with 
the  Fro^ets  and  Bibjls  which  Michael  Angelo  has  left  in 
the  Sistine  Chapel;  and  which,  in  mj  humble  opinion,  are 
bj  £ur  the  best  of  hia  worka^ — at  least,  of  the  few  that  now 
exist.  It  is  in  fi;eBco  that  the  chief  strength  and  gloiy.  of 
both  these  ^^eat  masters  lie ;  and  those  who  hare  omy  seen 
Baphael's  oil  paintings,  (even  the  Transfiguration  itself^) 
can  form  but  a  very  inadequate  idea  of  his  transcendent 
powers. 

•  In  the  convent  adjoining  the  Church  of  St.  Augustine^ 
there  is  an  excellent  library,  containing  upwards  of  one 
hundred  thousand  volumes,  open  to  the  public ;  I  mean,  of 
course,  the  male  part  of  it. 

*  This  convent,  hke  every  other,  lost  its  rich  possessions  at 
the  arrival  of  the  French,  and  will  never  regain  them.  But 
the  Augustine  monks,  to  whom  it  belongs,  stiU  possess  some 
little  property.  They  make  a  great  deal  more  by  begging, 
by  saying  masses,  and  by  the  contributions  of  penitents; 
besides  which,  the  Pope  allows  to  forty  of  them  forty-five 
paoH  a-month  (about  thirteen  guineas  af-jeta)  each.  There 
are  above  fifty  monks  in  all,  aod  the  majority  of  them  are 
young  men.  What  can  be  expected  from  a  government 
that  plunders  the  industrious  to  nay  a  pack  of  idle  sturdy 
beggars !  I  mention  those  particulars,  not  that  there  is  any- 
thmg  extraordinary  in  the  Pope's  pensioning  these  monks 
more  than  others,  out  because  I  was  led  to  inquire  into  the 
affidrs  of  these  Augustines  by  a  circumstance  which  acd* 
dentally  came  to  my  knowledge  the  other  day ;  which,  scan- 
dalous as  it  is,  I  shall  relate  to  you,  because  I  think  hypo* 
crisy  ought  to  be  unmasked. 

Ihere  Hved,  and  Hves,  in  a  neighbouring  street  called  the 
Tia  della  Scro&,  an  honest  cobbler,  whose  wife  is  youz^, 
and,  as  one  of  these  good  fiithers  thought,  handsome.  To 
^am  her  against  the  snares  and  wickedness  of  the  worid,  he 
took  pleasure  in  giving  her  his  ehosthr  counsel;  and  she 
became,  in  consequence,  so  sensible  of  her  sins,  as  to  come 
d^uently  to  him  for  confession  and  absolution.  One 
morning,  last  week,  the  cobbler  rose,  as  usual,  at  the  peep 
of  day,  and  went  away  to  hia  woric;  but,  in  an  evil  houTi  he 


Digitized  by 


Google 


4  noioB. 

happened  to  return  Bome  time  afterwards,  and  foiind  the 
Augufltine  in  the  place  he  had  quitted,  by  the  side  dT  his 
wife.  The  neighbourhood  was  alarmed  with  the  horrible 
screams  that  issued  &om  the  habitation ;  but  the  cause  was 
made  evident  when  the  holy  father  appeared,  pursued  bj 
the  cobbler,  who  cudgelled  him  all  the  way  to  his  convent. 

A  priest  told  me  the  friar  would  be  sent  to  rusticate  for  a 
time ;  that  is,  banished  into  the  country ;  which  is  the  usual 
punishment  in  these  cases — when  they  are  discovered. 

In  the  Church  of  San  Luigi  de'  Francesi,  there  is  a  chapel 
(the  second  on  the  right  on  entering)  adorned  with  admir- 
able paintings  in  fresco,  by  Domenidiino,  of  the  holy  deeds 
and  sufferings  of  St.  Cecilia.  The  finest  of  them  all  is,  I 
think,  the  An^el  presenting  crowns  to  St.  CeciHa  and  St. 
Valerian,  (her  husband.)  Nothing  can  surpass  the  exquisiiie 
beauty  of  the  kneeling  saints.  The  next  in  merit  is  the 
death  of  St.  Cecilia.  Beclioing  on  a  couch,  in  the  centre  of 
the  picture,  her  hand  pressed  on  her  bosom,  her  dying  eyes 
raised  to  heaven,  the  saint  is  breathing  her  last;  while 
female  forms,  of  exquisite  beauty  and  innocence,  are  kneel- 
ing around,  or  bending  over  her.  The  noble  figure  of  an 
old  man,  whose  clasped  hands  and  bent  brow  seem  to 
bespeak  a  father's  affliction,  appears  on  one  side ;  and  lovely 
children,  in  all  the  playful  graces  of  unconscious  infancy,  as 
usual  in  Domenichino's  paintings,  by  contrast  heighten  yet 
relieve  the  deep  pathos  of  the  scene.  From  above,  an  angel 
— ^such  an  angel  as  Domenichino  alone  knew  how  to  paint, 
a  cherub  form  of  light  and  loveliness,  is  descending  on  rapid 
wing,  bearing  to  the  expiring  saint  the  crown  and  palm  of 
gloiT. 

The  other  paintings  in  this  chapel  are  the  apotheosis  of 
St.  Cecilia,  extremely  fine ;  St.  Cecilia  expressing  her  con- 
tempt of  the  idols,  which  is  on  a  small  scale ;  and  St.  Cecilia 
distributing  clothes  to  the  poor.  These  frescos  are  indeed 
works  of  &st  rate  excellence,  and,  fortunately,  though  in- 
jured, are  still  very  visible ;  but,  as  an  old  Italian  said  to 
me,  looking  ruefully  at  the  most  beautiful  of  them,  "  Ventt 
anni  fa  fu  hella,  hella  asscd,  ma  adesso  si  vanisce  giomaiU 
menteJ*^ 

If  these  are  spoiling^  tiie  frescos,  with  which  the  rival 


Digitized  by 


Google 


DISTAITT    PBOSPEOT.  5 

pencils  of  Domenichino  and  Gruido  adorned  the  Chapel  of 
St.  Andrew,  are  spoiled.  They  are  at  the  Convent  of  St. 
Qregoiy,  on  the  CcBliaa  Hill,  which  we  visited  the  other 

We  stopped  upon  the  steps  of  the  entrance,  to  contem- 
plate the  dark  masses  of  rum  heaped  on  the  Palatine ;  the 
melancholy  beauty  of  the  cypress,  with  which  they  wero 
blended,  the  majestic  arches  of  the  Aqueduct  crossmg  the 
Via  Triumphalis,  and  the  grandeur  of  the  mighty  Colosseum. 
The  deserted  site  of  ancient  Eome  lay  oefore  us ;  the 
gigantic  monuments  of  her  fallen  magnificence  were  sprea 
aromid  us ;  wild  weeds  waved  over  the  palaces  of  her  em- 
perors, and  the  imbroken  solitude  that  reigned  through  her 
once  busy  scenes,  stole  over  the  fancy,  with  feelings  of 
deeper  interest  than  the  picturesque  combinations  of  the 
prospect  alone  could  have  awakened. 

Whilst  we  were  admiring  it,  the  white  robe  of  a  Benedic- 
tine monk  was  swept  over  our  faces  by  the  wind,  as  he 
passed  us.  He  apologized,  and  accompanied  us  into  the 
outer  court  of  the  convent,  where  he  found  our  lacquey 
pulling  at  the  bell  with  all  his  might,  and  greviously  com- 
plaining that  he  puUed  in  vain.  The  monk  was  courteously 
shocked  to  find  we  had  been  waiting,  would  not  hear  of  our 
going  away  without  seeing  the  frescos;  and  promising  to 
send  the  porter  immediately,  he  let  himself  m,  while  the 
lacquey  continued  his  exercise  without ;  but,  though  he  made 
a  peal  which  seemed  rather  intended  to  summon  the  dead 
than  the  living,  nobody  came.  The  brotherhood  seemed  to 
be  plunged  into  an  everlasting  sleep.  "We  heard  the  good 
father  storming  about  at  intervals,  above  us,  and  making  a 
most  tremendous  clamour,  while  occasionally  he  put  out  his 
head,  which,  to  our  inexpressible  diversion,  was,  by  this  time, 
enveloped  in  a  night-cap,  and  exhorted  the  servant  to  ring 
louder  and  louder  still — his  rubicund  face  turning  at  last  quite 
purple  with  rage,  as  he  continued  to  vociferate  "  Corpo  dt 
BaccoJ  Gaspettol  Che  vergogna  T^  At  last  a  lay  brother 
came  'drowsily  forth,  looking  like  Sloth,  and  the  enragfed 
monk,  having  severely  reprimanded  him,  shut  the  window 
of  his  ceU,  and  consigned  himself  to  bed  and  to  his  siesta. 

Our  yawning  conductor  unlocked  for  us  the  doors  of  three 


Digitized  by 


Google 


6  9oia. 

little  dingy  chapeb  near  the  dmich;  and  on  the  damp  walla 
of  one  of  them  we  saw  the  vestiges  of  the  matchless  frescos 
of  Domenichino  and  Gkiido — ^the  spectres  of  paintings,  **  the 
ghosts  of  what  they  were." 

Their  decaying  colours  and  fleeting  fbrms,  which  the 
absorbing  moisture  renders  every  dav  more  indistinct,  leave 
little  room  now  to  judge  of  their  lormer  perfection;  but 
while  the  faintest  outline  remains,  the  indestructible  beauty 
of  their  desi^  and  composition  must  be  visible. 

Domenichmo's  fresco  represents  the  flagellation  of  St« 
Andrew,  which  the  Emperor  at  a  distance  is  seated  to  wit* 
ness.  The  suffering  patience  of  the  feeble  saint  is  well  con* 
trasted  with  the  brawny  strength  and  unrelentiag  cruelty  of 
the  executioner — (a  figure,  by  the  way,  which  is  an  admirable 
studv  for  a  painter) — ^while  the  varying  passions  expressed 
by  the  bystanders  are  beautifrdly  told. 

G-uido  has  chosen  the  moment  in  which  the  aged  saint,  led 
to  execution,  &lls  on  his  knees  to  adore  the  cross.  His 
fresco,  beine^  on  the  dampest  and  darkest  side  of  the  chapel, 
has  suffered  even  more  than  the  other ;  and,  from  the  defl* 
ciency  of  light,  it  is  still  more  difBicult  to  trace  it :  but,  by 
frequent  and  patient  examination  in  the  brightest  part  of 
the  day,  much  of  the  beauty  of  both  may  still  be  maae  out. 
But  it  would  be  the  height  of  presumption  now  to  attempt 
to  decide  the  question  of  their  respective  merits,  on  which 
the  first  artists  were  divided  in  opinion,  at  the  time  ther 
were  originally  painted.  Annibal  Uaracci  declared  himself 
tmable  to  decide  the  point,  but  he  let  an  old  woman  de- 
cide it  for  him ;  for  he  saw  her  so  violently  affected  by  the 
flagellation,  that  he  was  ever  afterwards  convinced  that 
Domenichino's  must  be  the  finest. 

That  untutored  nature  is,  after  all,  the  most  unerring 
judge  of  excellence,  even  in  many  of  those  arts  that  seem 
the  last  result  of  refinement  and  cultivation,  I  am  far  from 
iutending  to  dispute;  and  in  most  cases,  like  Annibal 
Caracd  or  Moli^re,  I  should  be  apt  to  take  an  old  woman's 
opinion  before  a  connoisseur's ;  but,  in  this  instance,  flagel- 
lation is  so  immediately  addressed  to  the  senses  and  nerves, 
that  perhaps  it  was  the  nature  of  the  subject,  rather  thaa 
the  superiozity  of  the  work,  that  afidctea  the  old  wCHnaa 


Digitized  by 


Google 


BITAI^  nKB90018.  7 

witli  Bach  Tiolent  agitation.  Slie  would  sbrink  with  natanl 
honor  at  the  sight  of  the  huhes  that  laoerated  the  bleeding 
shoulders  of  the  saint  of  Domenichino ;  but  could  she  enter 
so  folly  into  the  holy  rapture  of  devotion — ^the  sublime  act 
of  ad<»Btion,  that  burst  &om  the  saint  of  Ghuido,  and  sus- 
tained his  soul  in  that  last  and  dreadful  moment  of  an  im« 
pending  death  of  torture  and  ignominy,  that  human  nature 
shudders  to  contemplate  P* 

St.  GhfegoiT  used  to  feed  twelve  poor  men  every  day  here, 
and  once,  to  his  great  surprise,  he  found  there  were  thu'fceen ; 
but  the  interloper  proved  to  be  an  angel^  who  went  away 
after  eating  his  dinner,  for  which  purpose  indeed  he  seemed 
to  have  come,  for  he  spoke  not,  and  did  nothing  but  eat. 
Of  the  fact  there  can  be  no  doubt,  because  we  saw  the  very 
table  at  which  he  sat. — "Eccola!"  exclaimed  the  man, 
triumphantly,  strikinff  it  with  his  hand,  when  somebody, 
laughmg,  asked  if  he  believed  the  tale.  A  fresco  of  Ghuido's 
which  represented  this  dinner  of  the  an^l  and  the  beggars, 
is  all  but  totally  obliterated.  Not  so  his  choir  of  angek,  in 
another  of  the  chapels ;  but  unfortunately,  though  beautiful, 
iikev  are  by  no  means  the  best  of  his  works. 

Among  them  there  was  one  brown  angel, — for  angels,  like 
women,  are  best  distinguished  by  "black,  brown,  or  fkir;" 
there  was  one  angel — ^brown  as  an  Ethiopian,  but  with  eyes 
so  bright  and  piercing,  and  shining  with  such  liquid  lus&e, 
that  they  shot  through  the  heart  of  poor  ,  and  pos- 

sessed such  fascination  for  him,  that  he  actually  returned 
tliree  times  to  look  at  them. 

There  is  a  statue  of  St.  Gregory  sitting  in  his  pontifical 
robes,  and  very  stately  he  Iooks.  It  is  said  to  have  been 
begun  by  Micliael  Angelo,  who  could  never  persuade  himself 
to  finish  it;  and  I  cannot  wonder  at  it;  for  Popes,  even 
when  they  happen  to  be  saints,  are  but  hopeless  subjects  for 
statuary. 

I  was,  however,  pleased  to  see  the  likeness  of  this  eztn^ 
ordinary  pontiff,  who  was  favoured  with  the  sight  of  an 
archangel  on  the  top  of  the  Castle  St.  Angelo, — ^with  the 
company  of  an  angel  at  dinner, — ^with  the  attendance  of  the 

^  Thera  are  veiy  fine  eoplea  of  these  admirable  compoflitlons  in  the 
MasBO  Tenadf  at  Bolognik    - 


Digitized  by 


Google 


8  BOHE. 

Holy  Ghost,  in  the  form  of  a  doye,  at  Ua  ear,  and  witb  tlie 
lore  of  the  ladies.  Certainly,  a  personage  so  blessed  with 
the  favours  of  angels  and  women,  desenred  to  be  sainted 
among  men. 

The  old  walls  of  his  house  lie  scattered  about,  and  are 
preserved  with  great  care. 

We  had  scarcely  come  away  from  seeing  this  Pope  in 
marble,  before  we  met  another  m  reality. 

We  were  proceeding  along  the  ancient  Via  Triwnphalis^ 
that  leads  from  the  Church  of  St.  Gregory  to  the  Colosseum, 
when  the  coachman,  observing  to  us,  "  Viene  il  Fapa^^  drew 
up  close  by  the  side  of  the  road,  and  stopped.  His  Holiness 
was  preceded  by  a  detachment  of  the  '^  Ouarda  Nohile"  who, 
as  soon  as  they  came  up  with  our  open  caleche,  commanded 
us,  in  no  very  gentle  voice,  to  get  out  of  the  carriage. 

But ,  whose  spirit  did  not  at  all  relish  this  mandate, 

nor  the  tone  in  which  it  was  uttered,  manifested  no  inten- 
tion to  comply,  and  our  servant,  with  true  Italian  readiness 
at  a  lie,  declared  we  were  Ibrestieri  who  did  not  understand 
Italian.  The  officers  resolved  to  make  us  understand  some- 
thing else,  repeated  the  order,  and  began  to  flourish  their 

swords  about  our  ears.    But sat  with  more  inflexible 

resolution  than  ever,  and  all  that  was  John  BuU  in  his  com- 
position now  refused  to  move.  Eor  my  part,  I  make  it  a  rule 
never  to  oppose  these  pointed  arguments,  and  therefore 
jumped  out  of  the  carnage,  and  purposely  contrived  to  get 
myself  involved  among  the  horses  and  drawn  swords  of  tne 

cavalry,  knowing  that  I  was  in  no  real  danger,  and  that 

would  forget  his  dignity,  and  come  to  my  assistance,  which 
he  accordmgly  did;  but  otherwise  nothmg,  I  believe,  but 
main  force,  would  have  got  him  out  of  the  carriage.  We 
saw  the  papal  procession  advance  up  the  Triumpmd  Way, 
along  which  the  victorious  cars  of  so  many  Eoman  heroes 
and  conquerors  had  roUed  in  their  day  of  triumph.  His 
Holiness  seemed,  however,  content  with  the  honours  of  an 
ovation,  for  he  was  walking  on  foot,  and  instead  of  a  myrtle 
crown,  his  brows  were  crowned  with  a  large  broad-brimmed 
scarlet  velvet  hat,  bound  with  gold  lace.  This  hat  he  very 
courteously  took  off  as  he  passed  us,  and  afterwards  madb 
another  bow,  in  return  for  our  courtesies.    Our  lacquey  wa0. 


,_j^^^  Digitized  by  VjOOQIC 


ZX-SOTALTT.  9 

on  Ills  knees  in  the  dust,  and  all  the  Italians  we  saw,  awaited 
his  approacli  in  the  same  attitude,  then  prostrated  themselves 
before  him  to  kiss  his  toe,  or  rather  the  gold  cross,  em- 
broidered in  the  front  of  his  scarlet  shoes.  His  robes, 
which  descended  to  his  feet,  were  scarlet ;  on  state  occasions 
he  wears  no  colour  but  white.  He  was  attended  by  two 
cardinals,  in  their  ordinary  dress  of  block,  edged  with  scarlet, 
followed  by  a  train  of  servants,  and  by  his  coach,  drawn  by 
six  black  horses,  the  very  model  of  the  gilt,  scarlet,  wooden- 
looking  equipages  you  may  have  seen  in  children's  baby- 
houses.    It  looked  exactly  like  a  large  toy. 

The  Pope  himself  is  a  very  fine  venerable  old  man,  with  a 
countenance  expressive  of  benignity  and  pious  resignation. 
His  is  the  very  head  you  woi3d  draw  for  a  Pope.  I  have 
sinee  frequently  met  him  walking  in  this  manner,  on  the 
roads,  for  exercise,  after  his  early  dinner. 

The  old  King  and  Queen  of  Spain,  and  that  iniquitous 
wretch  the  Prince  of  Peace,  may  be  seen  every  day,  at  the 
same  hour,  about  twenty-two  or  ^^^^y-three  o'clock,  or  an 
hour  before  sunset,*  ta&g  their  accustomed  drive,  in  two 
large  coaches  and  six.  There  is  a  most  amusing  collection 
of  ex-royalty,  of  all  sorts  and  kinds, — ^remnants  of  old 
dynasties,  and  scions  of  new, — heirs  of  extinct  kingdoms, 
and  kings  of  ignoble  families, — ^legitimate  and  illegitimate, 
flU  jumbled  together  just  now  at  Eome.  Besides  the  old 
King  and  Queen  of  Spain,  there  are  the  Ex-Queen  and  the 
yoimg  King  of  Etruna — ^the  abdicated  King  of  Sardinia, 
turned  Jesuit — Louis  Buonaparte,  the  dq)osed  King  of 
Holland,  living  like  a  hermit — Lucien  Buonaparte,  the 
uncrowned,  living  like  a  prince--and  certain  princesses 
living  like— like — ^but  comparisons  are  odious,  and  some- 
times they  may  prove  scandalous.  In  this  pious  pilgrimage 
of  churches,  we  must  think  only  of  the  lives  of  nims  and 
aadnts. 

Let  us  go  to  the  Capuchins.  Their  church,  in  the  Piazza 
Barberini,  possesses   Gf^uido's  painting  of  the  Archangel 

*  Time  is  always  reckoned  in  the  soath  of  Italy  from  the  setting  of 
the  sun,  which  is  the  venti-quaUro  ore, — twenty-four  o'clock.  If  yon 
ordered  your  carrriage  at  one  o'clock,  your  coadunan  would  bring  it  an 
hour  afker  dark. 


Digitized  by 


Google 


lO  BOXl. 

Micluiel  trampling  upon  Satan.  It  is  a  daring  attempt 
for  a  mortal  hand  to  pourtraj  the  forms  of  heaven,  to  make 
palpable  to  human  vision  those  unreal,  undefined  images 
of  exalted  sublimity  and  unearthly  beauty  that  float  before 
the  poet's  fimcy,  and  are  dimly  revealed  even  in  the  dreams 
of  gifted  genius.  Perhaps  it  is  impossible  to  satisfy  the 
mind  with  any  representation  of  the  Angel  of  Light,  which, 
in  its  loftiest  aspuration  it  essays  not  to  picture ;  but  Guide 
has  made  the  nearest  approach  of  any  painter  to  realize  the 
presence  of  a  celestial  spuit,  and  if  the  being  he  has  pou^ 
trayed  were  to  appear  before  us,  we  should  worship  him 
unquestioned,  as  a  delegate  and  a  power  of  Heaven. 

]aadiant  with  divini^,  and  clad  in  celestial  beauty,  that 
light  and  ethereal  form  tramples  into  the  bottomless  abyss, 
and  chains  in  torture  the  gigantic  and  herculean  fiend,  that 
howls  and  gnashes  his  teeth  with  unpotent  rage.  There 
is  no  exertion  or  effort  of  strength  on  the  part  of  the  angel 
—it  .is  the  act  of  volition  alone ;  there  is  no  struggle  or 
attempt  at  resistance  on  the  side  of  the  subjugated  demon 
-—for  resistance  is  vain.  We  feel  that  the  united  powers 
of  earth  and  hell  could  not  cope  for  an  instant  with  the 
might  of  that  slender  arm,  which  wields  the  omnipotent 
sword  of  Heaven. 

It  is  said  that  Ghiido,  having  a  pique  a^;ainst  the  Pope,* 
**  damned  him  to  everlasting  fame,  by  painting  his  portoiit 
in  the  likeness  of  Satan,  and  so  strong  was  the  resemblance, 
that  it  was  impossible  not  to  recognize  it. 

I  imagine  &uido  did  not  exactly  meet  the  same  return 
for  this  as  Ghezzi,  who  caricatured  Benedict  XIY.  and  all 
the  college  of  cardinals ;  but  that  good-humoured  Pope  was 
so  delighted  that  he  made  him  a  handsome  present. 

Domenichino's  Ecstacy  of  St.  Francis,  which,  in  a  fit  of 
piety,  he  gratuitously  painted  for  this  church,  is  not,  per- 
haps, one  of  the  best  specimens  of  his  powerM  pencil.  It 
is  a  good  painting,  but  a  bad  Domenichiuo.  The  only 
fresco  of  Giotto  in  Borne  adorns  this  church.  It  represent 
St.  Peter  walking  on  the  waves;  and,  considering  the 
in&ncy  (^  art  in  which  it  was  painted^  it  is,  indeed,  a 
most  wonderful  and  masterly  performance.  It  is  executed 
•  Urban  VIII, 


y  Google 


ukosvaaxsT  tobw.  U 

in  moflaie  at  St.  Peter's;  so  also  is  Gtddo*s  Archimgel; 
'toad  Domenichino's  St.  fVancis  is  at  this  moment  bSng 
eo]^d  at  the  mosaic  mamifactory. 

There  is  in  this  convent  a  sort  of  museum  of  lxme% 
formed  from  the  skeletons  of  the  deceased  Capuchins,  to 
which  the  inexorable  friars  refused  us  kdies  admittaaoe. 

The  Church  of  the  S.  S.  Trinity  de'  Monti  once  boasted 
what  Nicolas  Poassin  pronounced  to  be  ^  the  third  picture 
in  the  world  '* — ^Daniel  da  Yolterra's  Deposition  from  the 
Cross.  It  ranked,  in  his  estimation,  after  the  Transfigu* 
ration,  and  the  Communion  of  St.  Jerome.  But  it  was 
totally  destroyed  by  the  French,  in  their  clumsy  attempt 
to  remove  it,  at  the  time  thej^  plundered  Italy  of  her  works 
<^'  art ;  and  this  masterpiece  is  now  irreparably  lost  to  the 
world.  St.  Helena's  Discoveij  of  the  Cross,  another  cele- 
brated work  by  the  same  artist,  on  which  he  spent  seven 
years  of  labour,  was  also  ruined,  and  the  church  now  con* 
tains  nothing  worthy  of  a  visit,  except  the  tomb  of  Claude 
Lorraine.  His  house,  built  upon  his  own  design,  with  a 
simple  Doric  p(»rtico,  which  he  loved  to  introduce  into  his 
paintings,  stands  dose  beside  it,  and  commands  one  of  the 
most  enchanting  prospects  that  the  eye  ever  beheld  ;*  al- 
though it  is  modem  Eome  only,— -the  multiplied  domes  of 
her  (murehes,  and  the  towers  of  her  convents,  rising  beneath 
the  pine-covered  heights  of  Monte  Montorio  and  Monte 
Mano,  that  meet  the  view.  Ancient  Bome  is  not  visible; 
one  proud  obelisk,  that  rises  before  the  church,  alone  tells 
of  its  ruined  grandeur.  But  the  scene  has  a  charm  so 
inexpressible,  a  beauty  so  peculiar  to  itself,  that  its  study 
alone  might  well  have  formed  the  genius  of  a  Claude ;  and 
those  who  have  gased  upon  its  morning  brightness,  and  its 
evening  sunsets, — or  watched  the  harmonious  tints  of  golden 
splendour  fade  in  the  soft  floating  purple  clouds  that  man- 
tle the  west,  must  have  beheld  r^ilized  the  pictures  of 
Claude  Lorraine.  On  the  opposite  side  of  the  way,  ad- 
j<Hning  tiie  church,  is  the  house  of  Nicolas  Poussin ;  and 

«  li  was  the  residence  of  the  anfhoren  dnriiii;  the  diief  part  of  her 
stay  in  Borne, 


Digitized  by 


Google 


12  BOHX. 

dose  by  it,  a  house  once  inliabited  by  Salvator  Boss.  The 
Trinita  de'  Monti  is  still  the  favourite  residence  of  men  of 
genius.  It  is  thronged  with  the  etudii  and  the  dwellings  of 
artists. 

The  Church  of  Santa  Maria  YallicelK  re-erected  by  that 
renowned  samt,  Filippo  Neri,  and  therefore  called  the 
OUesa  NuoYO,  is  built  after  the  desims,  and  adorned  with 
the  frescos  of  Fietro  da  Cortona.  On  the  ceiling  of  the 
Sacristy,  the  Archangel  bearing  the  symbols  of  our 
Saviour's  Passion  to  Heaven,  is  one  of  the  best  of  his 
works  I  have  ever  seen;  the  colouring  is  thought  parti- 
cularly good,  and  the  effect  of  the  cross,  which,  though 
painted  on  a  horizontal  ground,  appears  perfectly  perpen- 
dicular, has  been  much  admired.  But  even  when  called 
upon  to  approve  and  commend  them,  the  paintings  of  Fietro 
da  Cortona  do  not  touch  our  hearts  with  admiration ;  they 
want  the  vivifying  powers  of  true  genius.  Equally  remote 
from  its  seducing  errors  and  its  redeeming  beauties,  they 
keep  on  in  the  dull  beaten  path  of  mediocrity.  We  see 
nothing  to  offend,  and  nothing  to  charm  us;  and  even 
without  &ults  they  please  less  than  many  more  imperfect 
works. 

This  church  was  adorned  with  the  altar-pieces  of  Bubens, 
Guercino,  and  Caravaggio,  all  of  which  are  utterly  ruined. 
In  the  Oratorio,  into  which  the  room  where  Saint  Filippo 
died  has  been  converted,  we  were  shown  his  portrait,  by 
Gnido.  The  fathers  of  the  order  of  I  Fadri  delV  Oratorio^ 
instituted  by  himself,  are  now  only  twelve  in  number,  and 
inhabit  a  convent  large  enough,  I  think,  to  contain  some 
hundreds.  It  is  built  in  the  form  of  a  square,  enclosing  an 
internal  court,  with  open  corridors,  three  stories  high,  and 
every  part  of  it  is  aiiy,  clean,  and  commodious, — ^which  we 
ascertained;  for  as  the  good  monks  were,  as  usual,  &st 
asleep  when  we  arrived,  we  took  the  liberty  of  walking  all 
over  it. 

Indeed,  the  lives  of  the  whole  race  of  monks  and  friars, 
black,  white,  brown,  and  grey,  in  every  country  where  I 
have  had  the  happiness  of  seeing  them,  may  be  aptly  des- 
cribed by  some  lines  of  Prior's : — 


Digitized  by 


Google 


nasooiB  ov  DOUKicHnro.  18 

**  ney  aoondly  deep  the  night  am j. 
They  just  do  nothing  all  ^e  day ; 
They  eat,  and  drink,  and  sleep— What  thent 
Why  then— they  eat  and  aleep  again. 
If  human  things  went  ill  or  well — 
If  changing  empires  rose  or  fell 
The  morning  went—the  erening  eame— 
And  found  mese  Jriarsjnst  the  same/' 

In  the  Church  of  Santa  Maria  dell'  Anima,  the  Nativity, 
by  GiuHo  Bomano,  though  it  has  suffered  from  injury  and 
restoration,  is  the  best  of  his  paintings  I  have  seen  in 
!Bome. 

The  Church  of  San  Andrea  della  Valle,  is  built  upon  the 
spot  where  the  Curia  of  Pompey  once  stood,  in  which  Ctesar 
fell.  You  may  imagine  the  interest  with  which  we  visited 
it,  although  not  a  stone  remains,  nor  an  object  appears  to 
recall  the  memory  of  the  deed  that  altered  the  destinies  of 
the  world.  Yet  did  that  memorable  moment  not  the  less 
strongly  recur  to  us,  when  the  blood  of  Cffisar  was  poured 
forth  on  the  ground  on  which  we  trod — ^when  Brutiis,  mis- 
taking the  excess  of  crime  for  virtue,  stifled  the  soft  plead* 
ings  of  nature,  the  natural  beatings  of  his  own  heart,  and 
plunged  his  treacherous  dagger  into  the  bosom  of  the  friend 
to  whom  he  owed  his  life. 

Paintings  of  the  martyrdom  of  saints,  and  monuments 
of  the  fanaticism  of  sinners,  now  met  our  view;  yet  was  not 
tbat  memorable  scene  which  our  imagination  recalled,  much 
tbe  same  P  Was  not  Brutus  a  fanatic,  and  Caesar  a  mar- 
tyr? 

The  one  was  a  moral,  or,  if  you  wOl,  a  political  fanatic 
— ^the  other,  the  martyr  of  ambition, — ^but  it  was  the  ambi- 
tion of  "  heroes,  not  of  gods." 

But  we  came  here,  not  to  moralize  over  the  death  of 
Csesar,  but  to  admire  the  frescos  of  Domenichino.  He 
painted  the  Flagellation  and  the  Gloriflcation  of  St.  Andrew, 
near  the  altar,  and  the  Pour  Evangelists  on  the  angle  of 
the  dome.  Among  the  latter,  the  beauty  of  St.  John  caught 
my  attention.  The  colouring  is  pecunarly  fine,  the  con- 
ception grand,  the  design  correct  and  perfect,  the  com- 
position pure,  and  the  expression  true  and  forcible.  *  They 
are  works  of  real  genius,  and  succeeding  generations  h^ve 


Digitized  by 


Google 


li  BOU. 

done  them  the  jiutioe  which  theit  CDntemporaries  denied. 
Hetro  da  Cortona,  and  all  his  crowd  of  scholars  and  imita- 
tors, were  envenomed  in  their  animosity  against  Domeni- 
chino ;  and  when  these  frescos  were  exposed  to  view,  thej 
raised  so  violent  an  outcry  against  them,  that  the  prejudioe 
was  universal.  Domenicnino,  who  heard  them  abused  on 
all  sides,  took  it  very  patiently,  and  eveiy  morning,  as  he 
went  past  to  his  labours,  he  used  to  stop  to  look  at  these 
much  reviled  productions ;  and  regularly,  after  attentively 
gazing  at  them,  he  shrugged  his  shoulders,  and  ezdaimed— 
"  WeU,  after  all,  they  don  t  seem  to  me  to  be  so  very  bad— 
JVbn  mi  pare  d'efser  tanto  cattwo,^* 

His  '*  Cardinal  Virtues,"  in  the  Church  of  San  Carlo  a* 
Gatinari,  could  be  surpassed  only  by  himself.  Yet,  beau* 
tiM  as  they  are,  I  did  not  admire  them,  on  the  whole,  quite 
so  much  as  these ;  and  his  four  frescos,  in  the  Church  of 
S.  Silvestro  on  Monte  Cavallo,  representing  David  dancing 
before  the  Ark, — Judith  with  the  head  of  Holofemes,— * 
^Esther  before  Ahasuerus, — and  Solomon  and  the  Q^een  of 
Bheba,  I  tiiought  inferior  to  both.  Whether  thev  really 
were  so,  or  that  I  was  then  as  tired  with  churches  and 
paintings  as  you  must  be  at  this  moment,  I  won't  pretend 
to  say.  His  Assumption,  a  small  fresco  on  the  roof  of 
Santa  Maria  in  Trastevere,  is  well  worth  visiting. 

In  pity  to  you  and  myself,  I  will,  for  the  present,  con* 
dude  this  pilgrimage  of  the  churches;  but  do  not  flatter 
yourself  that  you  have  done  with  thenu    Good  night. 


Digitized  by 


Google 


CHUBOH  07  ▲&▲  OOELI.  U 


LETTEELn. 
Chuboh  07  Ajla.  Cosli — Steps  AsonrDiB  ok  thb  xvus 

BY     JiTUTTB     C^SAB,     JJSTD     THB     MODBBV     ItALIAKB — 

Thbatbioal   Pb£sspio — Qbnbbaii   07   THB   Ebahoib- 

CAKS — ^MlBACVLOVS  BAlCBIISrO-~SAGBB]>  IsiAlTD — ^iEsOIT* 
LAFniB  AlTD  St.  BaBTHOLOMBW — ^IirDIJLOBKCBB — ^TbAB« 
TBTBBB  AlTD  TbASTBYBBINI — ^AsSASSnTATtOK — GaMBB — 

ComTBHTS  —  Tabso'b  Tomb  —  Vibw  o7  Bomb  7bom 
Mount  Jajsiqxtljju  —  Compabisok  bbtwbbk  Faoak 
Templbb  abb  Chbibtiak  Chvbohbs. 

Thb  ugly  old  Churcli  of  Santa  Maria  in  Ara  CobH,  which 
crowns  the  highest  summit  of  the  Capitoline  HiU,  and  is 
Bup^osed  to  occupy  the  site  of  the  splendid  Temple  of 
Jupiter  Optimus  Mazimus,  is  adorned  m  the  inside  with 
twenty-two  ancient  columns,  and  on  the  outside  with  a 
flight  of  one  hundred  and  twenty-four  steps  of  Gkrecian 
marble,  said  to  hare  formed  the  ascent  to  the  Temple  of 
Bomulus  Quirinus.  Up  these  Pagan  steps  I  have  frequently 
seen  good  Christians  painfully  mounting  on  their  knees, — 
a  method  of  locomotion  they  seem  to  think  more  to  the 
taste  of  the  Yirgin  at  the  top  of  them,  than  the  rulgar 
mode  of  walking ;  and  it  is  either  practised  in  order  to  repay 
her  for  some  benefit  already  Teceired,  or  to  obtain  some 
desired  spratification.  One  woman  told  me  she  had  gone  up 
on  her  knees,  because  she  had  made  a  tow  to  do  it,  if  the 
Madonna  would  cure  her  of  a  bad  sore  throat ;  in  this  case 
it  might  be  termed  a  debt  of  honour.  Another  performed 
this  exploit,  in  order  to  prevail  upon  the  Madonna  to  give 
her  a  prize  in  the  lotteiy,  and  really,  in  this  instance,  it 
could,  1  think,  be  considered  no  better  than  a  bribe ;  but  as 
the  tidLet  came  up  a  blauk^  it  is  plain  the  Yirgin  wm  not  to 
be  eoxmpted. 


Digitized  by 


Google 


16  Bom. 

Nineteen  centuries  ago,  JnliuB  Cesar,  at  Us  first  trinmpliy 
ascended  on  his  knees*  the  steps  of  this  rery  temple,  (that 
of  Jupiter  Capitolinus).  Strange!  after  the  hipse  of  ages, 
to  see,  on  the  same  spot,  the  same  superstitions  infecnng 
opposite  faiths,  and  eniuaying  equally  the  greatest  and  the 
weakest  minds ! 

The  List  time  I  yisited  this  church,  it  was  crowded  almost 
to  suffocation,  by  peasants  from  remote  mountain  villages, 
arrayed  in  their  grotesque  and  yarious  holidaj  costumes, 
who  had  performed  this  festive  pilgrimage  in  order  to  see 
the  Bambmo,  the  new-bom  Jesus,  and  pay  their  respects  to 
the  Virgin,  who,  at  this  season,  sits  in  state  to  receive  com- 
pan;^.  This  exhibition  is  called  the  Frces^no,  and,  after 
Christmas,  is  to  be  seen  in  almost  every  church,  and  in 
most  of  the  private  houses  in  Bome ;  but  it  appears  in  its 
full  glory  in  Ara  CobH,  and  there  we  went  to  see  it. 

The  upper  part  of  the  church,  around  the  ^reat  altar,  was 
adorned  with  painted  scenes,  and  converted  mto  a  stage,  in 
the  front  of  which  sat  the  figure  of  the  Virgin,  tomb  of 
wood,  with  her  best  blue  satin  gown  and  topaz  necklace  on, 
and  her  petticoats  so  stuck  out,  that  unless  she  wore  a 
hoop,  which  the  friars,  who  were  in  the  secret,  positively 
demed,  it  was  impossible  to  believe  that  her  accouchement 
had  yet  taken  place.  There,  however,  lav,  in  proof  of  the 
contrary,  the  new-bom  Bambino,  the  little  Jesus,  rolled  in 
rich  swaddling-clothes,  and  decked  with  a  gilt  crown ;  beside 
him  stood  St.  Joseph  and  the  two  Marys ;  and  at  a  little 
distance,  were  seen  two  martial  figures,  who,  we  were  given 
to  imderstand,  were  Eoman  centurions,  made  of  pasteboard, 
and  mounted  on  white  horses.  Near  them,  projected  from  a 
side-scene,  the  head  of  a  cow.  And  all  these  figures,  divine, 
human,  and  bestial,  were  as  large  as  life.  But  off  the  stage, 
there  was  a  figure  even  larger  than  life.  He  was  the  General 
of  the  Franciscan  order,  who  resides  in  this  convent.  The 
rope  that  girded  his  waist  could  not,  I  think,  have  been  less 
than  two  yards  in  length.  He  might  have  represented 
Ealstaff  without  stuffing ;  and  certainly  I  never  saw,  even 
on  the  stage,  a  caricature  of  a  fat  fnar,  approaching  the 
circumference  of  this  portly  fiEither.  It  is  said  there  cannot 
•  Dion.  1.  xliU.  c.  21. 


Digitized  by 


Google 


TABBICIAK  BBIBOl.  17 

be  too  mucli  of  a  good  thixig,  but  certunly,  I  think,  there 
was  rather  a  superabundance  of  this  good  capuchin. 

I  have  heard  many  of  the  Italians,  even  of  the  middling 
and  lower  classes,  cut  much  the  same  jokes  upon  the  friars, 
and  laugh  as  much  at  their  fondness  for  eating  and  drinking, 
and  all  sorts  of  sensual  indulgences,  as  the  English  do.  Yet, 
by  a  strange  apparent  contradiction,  they  are  almost  inyari- 
ablj  the  confessors,  the  preachers,  the  spuitual  monitors  and 
counsellors,  selected  by  all  ranks,  in  preference  to  the  secular 


here  are  oTih  a  hundred  capuchins  now  in  this  convent, 
but,  before  the  Erench  turned  them  all  out,  there  were  nearly 
four  hundred. 

I  forgot  to  tell  you,  that  the  aforesaid  Bambino  which  we 
had  been  to  see,  was  originally  brought  down  from  heaven 
one  night  by  an  aiigel,  and  is  endowed  with  most  miraculous 
powers,  and  held  in  wonderful  repute.  I  suppose  no  physi- 
cian in  Eome  has  such  practice,  or  such  fees.  AVhen  people 
are  in  extremity  of  sickness,  it  is  sent  for,  and  comes  to  visit 
them  in  a  coach,  attended  by  one  of  the  friars.  One  of  our 
Italian  servants  assured  me  it  had  cured  her  of  a  fever,  when 
all  the  doctors  had  given  her  up ;  and  I  firmly  believe  it ; 
for,  upon  inquiry,  I  found  that  the  doctors,  resigning  her  to 
the  care  of  the  Bambino,  discontinued  their  visits  and  medi- 
cines. The  «a?  blisters  they  had  put  on  were  allowed  to  be 
taken  off;  she  got  neither  wme  nor  broth,  and  drank  nothing 
but  pure  water  to  relieve  her  thirst.  After  hearing  this 
account,  I  was  no  longer  surprised  at  the  Bambino^ %  well- 
earned  reputation  for  curing  diseases. 

This  church  takes  its  name  of  ''Ara  CcbH*'  from  the 
vulgar  tradition  of  the  Sibyl's  prophecy  to  Augustus,  of  the 
birth  of  the  Bedeemer,  and  his  consequent  consecration  of 
an  altar  on  this  spot,  *'to  the  first-bom  of  Gh)d" — a 
monkish  imposition,  wholly  unsupported  by  historical  tes- 
timony. 

Leaving  the  Capitol,  we  crossed  the  Bonte  QuaUro  Oapi, 
anciently  the  Eabiician  Bridge,  to  the  island  of  the  Tiber, 
whose  date,  if  history  may  be  credited,  is  more  modem  than 
that  of  Eome  itself,  and  whose  creation  is  not  the  work  of 
nature,  but  of  chance,  and  of  man. 

VOL.  n.  0 


Digitized  by 


Google 


18  Ttoio. 

It  is  lekted  Ij  lawj,^  that  at  the  expuLrion  of  the 
Taiquiiui,  a  large  field  belonging  to  them  which  was  oon- 
aecrated  to  Man  and  afterwaraa  called  the  Gampua  Maitinay 
was  ooYored  with  ripe  com.  It  became  the  propeiiy  of  the 
Boman  people ;  but,  dind«rning  to  eat  l^e  bread  of  their 
tjrant,  they  threw  the  shearea  into  the  river,  which,  as  is 
nsual  at  that  time  of  the  year,  was  low ;  tiie  com  stuck  in 
the  muddy  bottom,  and  receiving  continued  aggregations  of 
slime,  soil,  and  other  substances,  deposited  by  the  stream : 
it  gradually  formed  a  solid  island,  which  was  afterwards 
strengthened,  and  the  margin  built  round  with  walls. 

When  the  ten  ambassadors,  sent  from  Bome  during  the 
plague,  returned  from  their  solemn  embassy  to  the  Temple 
of  Esculapius  in  Epidauros,  the  sacred  serpent,  which  had 
voliintarily  embarked  itself  with  them,  left  tne  ship,  swam  to 
the  island,  and  was  never  more  seen  by  man.t  l^iat  it  was 
the  ^od  who  had  assumed  this  shape,  and  that  he  had  choseii 
the  island  for  his  habitation,  comd  not  be  doubted.  The 
pestilence  ceased — ^the  island  was  formed  into  the  shape  of  a 
ship,  in  commemoration  of  the  sacred  vessel  which  brought 
him,  and,  near  its  extremity,  the  great  Temple  of  JBscukpius 
was  built.  An  hospital  was  attached  to  it  for  the  cure  of 
the  sick;  but  the  Boman  slaves  were  almost  invariably 
exposed  before  the  portico,  to  be  cured,  if  such  was  the  wiJl 
of  the  god,  or  if  not,  to  perish.  To  check  this  inhuman 
practice,  the  Emperor  Claudius  ordained,  that  those  whe 
recovOTed  should  never  more  return  to  their  former  ser- 
vitude.lt  Even  after  the  arrival  of  Esculapius,  the  island- 
was  denominated  the  Sacred  Island;  and  the  temples  of 
Jupiter,  of  Paunus,  and  perhaps  of  other  deities,  were  built 
upon  it. 

The  site  of  the  Temple  of  Esculapius  is  now  occupied  hj 
the  Church  of  Bt.  Bartholomew;  and  in  the  garden  of  the 
convent,  where  the  statue  of  the  god,  now  at  Naples,  was 
found,  there  is  still  to  be  seen  the  sacred  serpent,  sculptured 
upon  the  prow  of  the  vessel,  into  which  the  extremity  of  the 
island  was  formed.  But,  as  the  good  fathers  would  by  no. 
means  incur  the  guilt  of  letting  a  female  look  at  it,  we  were 

^  Vide  lib.  ii.  cap.  5.    Also,  vide  Flinj,  Hist  lib.  ii  in  pHneipio. 
t  Utj,  lib.  ii.  cap.  18, 14.  t  Soetoniia,  Claadiiu^  25. 


Digitized  by 


Google 


tiiVSAXt  HTDVitOxirci.  IS* 

eoDBtniixiedtofarego  thaterimi^  gnitificati<m,  nd  ^p^tieMj 
to  await  the  letum  of  the  piivile^d  tex  of  our  ptttyy  who 
went  to  aee  it. 

In  this  diimsh  they  offer  plenarjr  indulgeooes :  nostmms 
for  the  cure  of  the  soul  have  Bupphed  the  nostnmiB  for  the 
cure  of  the  hody,  that  used  to  be  administered  here.  Cor- 
poreal is  changed  into  spiritual  quackery,  Pagan  into  Cv 
tholic  superstition,  and  Eaculapius  into  St.  Bartholomew. 

I  soon  grew  tired  of  looking  at  some  had  frescos  hy 
Antonio  Carraoci;  and  ohserving  the  inscription  of  ''  JkM* 
genseia  Plenaria^^*  I  asked  one  of  the  j|roung  nriars,  whj,  sinoe 
they  had  the  power  of  giving  ^'  unlimited  indulgence  "  to  all, 
he  would  not  grant  us  the  restricted  indulgence  of  walking 
through  the  garden  ?  He  crossed  himself  in  admiration  of 
my  extravagance,  and  ejaculated,  "  Jesu  Maria  1"  I  then 
urged  him  to  explain  to  me  what  plenary  indulgence  meant. 
He  said  it  was  ^  a  mystery ;  a  thinff  incomprehensihle  to 
us;  a  spiritual  good;  a  hlessing  of  all  the  saints.*'  But  aQ 
these,  and  all  t£it  followed,  were  separate  and  reluctant  res* 
ponses  to  my  varied  interrogations. 

Did  plenary  indulgence  give  permission  to  perpetrate 
murder r  I  inquired,  ''No!  no!—''  Could  muraer,  when 
committed,  he  expiated  hy  it?'*  That  was  again  a  mystery. 
Murder  mili  he  exniated.  The  "  ^SbnA)  fmlrv  "  (the  Pope), 
who  had  received  nom  the  Prince  of  Apostles  the  keys  of 
heaven^  and  the  power  to  forffive  sms,  eoidd  pardon  that,  or 
any  crime*— hut  kow^  he  might  not  say;  all  that  he  would 
say  to  a  heretic  like  me,  after  all  my  cross^uestioning,  was 
"that  for  hell,  he  helieved,  no  inaulgence  was  to  to  ob> 
tained,  hut  from  ^uneatory  there  was  plenary  indulgence 
accorded  to  the  fiuthml,  through  the  Madonna,  St.  Peter, 
and  the  Pope.'* 

Our  theological  controversy  was  here  broken  ofi^  much 
to  TOUT  satisfi»tion,  I  should  suppose,  as  well  as  tiie  fiiar's 
and  mine,  by  the  return  of  our  friends.  We  left  the 
church,  and  crossing  the  Ponte  San  Barfcolomeo,  formeriy 
called  the  Pon»  Cestiuty  from  its  founder^  though  who  he 
was  nobody  knows  or  cares,*— entered  Trastevere,  that  part 
of  Bome  which  lies  beyond  the  Tiber,  and  dong  the  foot  of 
Mount  Jameuium, 

02 


Digitized  by 


Google 


20  iiom. 

In  Trasterere  there  are  no  remains  of  antiquitj,  but 
abundance  of  moniunents  of  superstition— churches  full  of 
the  shrines  of  saints,  and  convents  full  of  imprisoned  sinners 
— ^plenty  of  houses,  but  few  inhabitants.  These  inhabitants, 
however,  boast  of  being  descended  from  the  ancient  Bomans, 
and  look  on  the  upstut  race  on  the  other  side  of  the  river 
with  sovereign  contempt.  Thej  will  not  intermarry  with 
them,  nor  associate  with  them. 

They  call  themselves  Mninenti,  and  support  their  claims 
to  superiority  by  the  ferocity  of  their  manners.  Bloody 
quarrels  and  vindictive  passions,  rage,  jealousy,  and  revenge, 
seem  to  reign  among  them  with  untameable  violence.  They, 
among  all  the  people  of  Some,  are  the  most  addicted  to 
carrying  the  prohibited  knife,  which,  in  the  paroxysm  of 
irrepressible  fury,  they  so  often  plunge  into  each  other's 
breast. 

I  think  we  are  quite  mistaken  in  our  estimate  of  the 
Italian  character,  in  one  respect.  Murder  is  generally  com- 
mitted in  the  sudden  impulse  of  ungovernable  passion,  not 
with  the  slow  premeditation  of  deliberate  revenge.  That  it 
is  too  common  a  termination  of  Italian  quarrels,  it  would  be 
vain  to  deny ;  and  it  is  equally  true,  that  however  English- 
men may  Ml  out,  or  however  angry  they  may  be— drunk  or 
sober — they  have  no  notion  of  stabbing,  but  are  usually  con- 
tent with  beating  each  other.  But  in  England  murders  are 
generally  committed  in  cold  blood,  and  for  the  sake  of  plun- 
der. In  Italy,  they  are  more  frequently  perpetrated  in  the 
moment  of  exasperation,  and  for  the  gratification  of  the 
passions.  An  Italian  will  pilfer  or  steid,  cheat  or  defraud 
you,  in  any  way  he  can.  He  would  rob  you  if  he  had 
.courage ;  but  he  seldom  murders  for  the  sake  of  gain.  In 
proof  of  this,  almost  all  the  murders  in  Italy  are  commit- 
ted amongst  the  lower  orders.  One  man  murders  another 
who  is  as  much  a  beggar  as  himself.  Whereas,  our  coun- 
trymen walk  about  the  unlighted  streets  of  Eome  or  Naples 
at  all  hours,  in  perfect  safe^.  I  never  heard  of  one  having 
been  attacked,  although  the  riches  of  Milor*  Inkiest  are 

Eroverbial.    Ainongst  the  immense  number  of  English  who 
ave  lately  travelled  through  Italy,  though  all  have  been 
cheated,  a  few  travellers  only  have  been  robbed;  and  of 


Digitized  by 


Google 


THE  T1U.8TBTE]inn.  21 

thesie  not  one  has  either  been  mnrdered  or  bnrt.*  I  am 
far,  however,  from  thinking  that  murders  are  more  firequent 
in  England  than  in  Italy.  In  England  thej  are  held  in  fkt 
more  abhorrence;  they  are  punished,  not  only  with  the 
terrors  of  the  law,  but  the  execrations  of  the  people.  Bveiy 
murder  resounds  through  the  land — ^it  is  canyassed  in  eveir 
dub,  and  told  by  every  village  fire-side ;  and  inquests,  and 
trials,  and  newspapers,  proclaim  the  lengthened  tale  to  the 
world.  But  in  Italv,  it  is  unpublished,  unnamed,  and  un* 
heeded.  The  murderer  sometimes  escapes  wholly  unpu-» 
nished — sometimes  he  compounds  for  it  Dy  paying  money, 
it  he  has  any — and  sometin^es  he  is  condemned  to  the  galleys, 
— but  he  is  rarely  executed. 

The  Trastevermi  are  passionately  fond  of  the  game  of 
Morra.  It  is  played  by  two  men,  and  merely  consists  in 
holding  up,*  in  rapid  succession,  any  number  of  fingers  they 
please,  calling  out  at  the  same  time  the  number  their  anta- 
gonist shows.  Nothing,  seemingly,  can  be  more  simple  or 
less  interesting.  Yet,  to  see  them  play,  so  violent  are  their 
gestures,  that  you  would  imagine  mem  possessed  by  some 
diabolical  passion.  The  eagerness  and  rapiditr  with  which 
they  carry  it  on  render  it  very  liable  to  mistake  and  alter- 
cation— ^then  firenzy  fires  them,  and  too  often  furious  dis- 
putes arise  at  this  trivial  play,  that  end  in  murder.  Morra 
seems  to  differ  in  no  respect  from  the  ISxca/re  DiffUis  of  the 
ancient  Bomans.f 

There  is  another  pastime  among  them  called  La  Buaziea, 
or  La  Bottiola,  which  seems  to  me  to  bear  a  close  resem- 
blance to  an  ancient  Boman  sport — ^that  of  throwing  the 
discus. 

The  Trastevere  game  consists  in  coiling  a  long  string' 
round  a  piece  of  wood,  of  the  shape  of  a  Gloucester  cheese, 
as  tight  as  possible — ^then  rapidly  untwisting  the  string, 
when  the  wood  flies  off  with  immense  velocity,  and  the 

*  Not  in  1818,  when  this  work  was  written ;  but  subsequently,  an^ 
English  gentleman  was  killed,  in  consequence  of  his  determined  resist- 
ance to  b«ing  plundered.  The  authoress  and  her  brother,  when  travel- 
ling,  were  stopped  and  robbed  by  a  party  of  banditti  near  YeUetri,  bni 
not  personally  maltreated. 

t  Cic.  DivhL  11,  41.  Off.  cxi.  28. 


Digitized  by 


Google 


22  som. 

length  of  its  coone  is  the  criterion  of  rictory.  This  diyer- 
sion  was  prohibited,  for  it  sometimes  happem^i  that  the  legs 
of  unwfiiy  passengers  were  broken,  by  coming  in  contact 
with  these  bowling  machines ;  but  it  is  still  practised,  though 
nb  longer  in  the  stridets  or  public  roads. 

The  resemblance  of  the  lorm  of  the  ruzadea  to  that  of  the 
discus,  and  the  attitude  of  the  TrasteTcrini  as  th^  throw  it, 
so  strongty  recalled  to  my  mind  the  Discobolus,  tmt  I  could 
not  help  thinking  it  muist  haye  taken  its  origin  frcnn  that 
sport. 

They  are  the  only  people  in  Borne  at  all  fond  of  dancing, 
and  on  the  afltemoons  of  Sundays,  and  other  festa»  espedally 
during  the  Camiyal  and  about  Eastw,  most  amusing  exhi* 
Intions  may  be  seen,  of  youi^  handsome  couples,  in  their 
picturesque  holiday  costume,  dandng  with  an  in&uj^  of 
attitude  and  expression,  in  the  courts  and  gardetis  of  Traa- 
terere: 

Trasteyereis  saidto  haye  been  the  ancient  quarter  of  the 
.  Jews,  and  its  inhabitants  now,  as  Ibnaerly,  hear  no  yeiy 
high  character.^ 

The  men  struck  me  as  a  strong  and  yigorous  taee ;  yet 
Trasteyere  is  said  to  be  yery  unhealthy,  and  it  is  certainly 
yeiy  depopulated.  Its  palaces  are  deserted^  and  its  streets 
untrodoen.  The  scourge  of  thd  malaria  infests  it  in  the 
summer ;  and  it  is  apparently  for  this  reason  that'they  haye 
established  so  many  conyents  here,  thinking,  I  suppose,  it  ia 
no  matter  how  many  niins  dier^^and,  indeed,  as  mr  as  the 
enjoyment  of  this  world  goes,  it  woidd,  perhaps,  have  been 
better  for  many  of  th^n  that  they  had  neyer  been  bom. 

In  Italy,  a  ** monagterio^*  means  a  nunnery — and  a  '^cofi- 
venio**  a  monkery  or  fiiairy,  which  is  exactly  the  reyerse  of 
lihe  application  of  these  names  in  France  and  England. 
l*his  part  of  Eome  seems  to  haye  been  considered  insalu« 
Mous  eyen  m  ancient  timesi  Pliny,  in  one  of  Ins  inyec- 
tiyes  against  Begulus,  says,  ^  He  [Begnlus]  staid  at  his 
yi]l%  on  the  other  shore  of  the  Tiber,  in  order  to  haye  the 
malicious  gratification  of  making  people  yisit  it  at  Ihat  un.* 
wholesome  season  ;'*t  an  accusation  mdch,  by  the  way,  is  no 
proof  of  the  pbilosopher's  discernment,  since  Begulua  must 
•  Martial,  1. 1.  Ep.  119.  f  Tide Ep.iLUb.iy. 


Digitized  by 


Google 


Digitized  by 


Google 


Digitized  by 


Google 


haire  done  &r  more  injury  to  his  own  health  by  a  contmued 
residence,  than,  his  tiiends  oonld  hsYO  received  by  their  oo* 
casional  yisits — ^but  it  is  a  proof  that  the  air  here  waa  erea 
then  reputed  imhealthy  at  certain  aeaaons. 

Tacitus,  too,  somewhere  abusea  the  Vatican,  which  ia  a 
post  of  Trastevere,  for  its  bad  air.*  As  a  proof  of  the  dia* 
oemment  of  the  Popes,  or  the  desire  they  have  to  send  the 
aick  poor  to  a  better  world,  they  have  set  down  the  great 
hospital  of  the  Bor^o  San  Spirito  in  the  very  worst  air  of 
this  insalubrious  region. 

The  Church  of  Santa  Maria  in  Trastevere,  like  all  the 
other  old  churches  of  Borne,  is  adorned  with  ancient  oolumna, 
all  of  which  are  of  Oriental  ^pranite ;  but  their  varying  pro* 
portions  and  capitals  proclaim  them  to  be  the  spods  of 
different  Boman  edifices.  There  are  seven  of  the  Ionic 
cafMtab  of  these  columns  mentioned  by  Winkehnan,  which« 
instead  of  the  rose,  have  Lilliputian  figures  of  the  little  god 
Harpocrates,  with  his  finger  on  hia  mouth.  On  the  left  of 
the  fdtar  are  two  ancient  moaaica,  one  of  which  representa 
a  aearport;  and  the  roof  ia  adorned  with  a  amall  AaaumptioB 
in  firesco,  by  Domenichino. 

If  we  may  believe  the  priests,  this  was  a  pnblio  Christiaii 
church  as  earlv  as  the  beginning  of  the  third  centuiy.  It 
might  be  so ;  for  after  the  death  of  Septimius  Sevenui  (a..d. 
211),  the  Christians,  during  a  period  of  nearly  forty  years, 
not  only  enjoyed  toleration,  ana  obtained  the  privilege  of 
cypenly  having  places  of  worship,,  but  were  even  hij^  in 
fiftvour  at  the  Lnperial  court.  It  is  even  aaserted,  that 
Alexander  Severus,  in  the  early  part  of  his  reign,  '^imbibed 
the  maxims  of  Christ,"  and  entertained  serioua  tiioughts  of 
erecting  a  temple  to  him  as  one  <^  the  gods.t 

In  these  times,  it  is  related,  a  miraculous  fountain  of 
aacred  oil  sprung  up  in  this  church,  and  the  spot  ia  still 
Biarked  with  the  inscription  of  JSbnt  OUi, 

As  we  had  already  visited  the  Convent  of  Saint  Cecilia 

*  The  Boldien  of  Yitelliui's  annj,  while  qnaiiered  there,  fell  victims 
to  the  Mune  &tal  fever  whieh  stUl  depopulates  its  piecincta.  Ta4sitiu^ 
Hist  lib.  ii.  cap.  98. 

t  Vide  Gibbon,  (Decline  and  Fall*  VoL  li.  p.  869,)  who  qnotes  the 
Av^oetan  History,  p.  180* 


Digitized  by 


Google 


24'  BOHE. 

once,  we  did  not  return  to  it,  but  toiled  on  foot  up  b,  long 
and  steep  ascent  to  the  Church  of  Sant'  Onofrio,  where  the 
remains  of  Tasso  repose. 

A  paltry  inscription  on  the  wall  alone  marks  the  spot ; 
for,  neglected  in  death  as  well  as  life,  his  ungrateful  country 
has  denied  a  tomb  to  the  poet  whose  memory  is  at  once  her 
glory  and  her  shame.     She  has  not  even 

"  To  buried  genius  raised  the  tardy  bust." 

Italy  was  miworthy  of  having  Tasso  for  a  son.  But  hia 
name  is  worshipped  m  every  land, — ^his  moment  is  erected 
in  every  heart ;  and  though  the  laurel  crown,  which  neveu 
encircled  his  living  brows,  is  not  suspended  over  his  grave^ 
no  traveller  from  the  remotest  regions  of  the  earth  will 
leave  "the  Eternal  City,*'  without  shedding  a  tear  over  the 
stone  that  covers  the  genius  and  the  sorrows  of  Torquato 
Tasso. 

In  this  gloomy  convent  was  passed  the  close  of  a  life 
made  wretched  by  oppression,  by  contumely,  by  poverty, 
and  by  chains; — ^maddened  by  sensibility,  and  cursed  by 
genius.  It  was  by  his  last  request  that  he  was  buried  here. 
•—"Buried  here!*-  I  involuntarily  exclaimed,  as  we  gazed 
on  the  dark  flag-stone,  trodden  by  every  vulgar  foot  that 
records  the  tale. — ^And  is  the  gemus  that  awakened  those 
straius  of  divine  poesy,  which  will  resoimd  through  the 
earth  while  it  rolls  in  its  orbit,  really  biffied  here  ? — Is  the 
fency  whose  heaven-taught  powers  erected  such  glowing 
visions  of  beauty  and  of  bliss,  sunk  in  this  narrow  spot  ? 
Is  the  heart  whose  blighted  feelings  wept  immortal  tears 
through  long  years  of  neglected  solituae,  and  burst  its 
prison  bars,  entombed  beneath  this  lowly  stone  ? — How  can 
we  believe,  that  the  powers  which  embraced  the  universe, 
and  seemed  intended  for  eternal  duration,  are  thus  shrunk 
to  nought ;  and  that  in  this  speck  of  earth  is  all  that  remains 
of  Tasso  P 

From  the  tomb  of  Tasso  we  mi^ht  have  turned  to  the 
frescos  of  Domenichino  in  the  portico,  which  have  for  their 
subject  the  miracles  of  Saint  Jerome;  but  one  glance  at 
their  worn  and  washed-out  appearance  suf&ced ;  and  with 
some  feeling  of  iadignation  against  the  land  where  the 


Digitized  by 


Google 


GI.OBI0178  PBOSPCCT.  20 

fiioaticism  and  the  miracles  of  saints  are  honoured  and  com- 
memorated, while  taste  and  genius  are  oppressed  and  for- 
gotten— ^we  gave  one  glance  to  the  poet's  grave,  and  left  the 
convent  of  Sant*  Onomo.* 

We  again  climbed  the  steep  sides  of  Mount  Janiculom  to 
S.  Pietro  in  Montorio,  and  from  the  terrace  in  front  of  it^ 
which  seems  to  overhang  Borne,  we  enjoyed  the  finest  view 
of  the  Ancient  and  Mocfem  City  I  had  yet  beheld. 

Beneath  us  were  spread  its  massive  ruins,  overshadowed 
with  the  dark  pine  and  cypress;  its  deserted  mounts,  its 
fallen  temples,  its  splendid  basilicas,  its  gorgeous  palaces, 
and  its  cloistered  convents;  even  the  proud  dome  of  St. 
Peter's  lay  at  our  feet — the  magnitude  of  the  Vatican  was 
shrunk  to  nothing.  Far  over  its  glowing  gardens  and  depth 
deptes  of  cypress  shade,  the  eye  wandered  delighted,  to  the 
majesty  of  Monte  Cavo,  the  storied  Alban  Mount,  hung 
with  ancient  woods ;  to  the  purple  hues  that  painted  the 
Sabine  Bills,  on  whose  sheltered  sides  reposed  Tivoli,  Fras- 
cati,  and  Palestrina,  as  if  inviting  our  approach;  and  to 
*^^U  AJpestri  dossi  d^JpenninOy*'  whose  snowy  summits  ter- 
minated the  view. 

But  I  am  forgetting,  in  the  delight  of  retrospection,  how 
insufferable  is  description,  and  how  wholly  inadequate  to 
give  the  faintest  idea  of  the  beauty  of  any  prospect. 

I  turned  from  this  enchanting  scene,  slowly  and  reluc- 
tantly, to  enter  the  ugly  old  church  of  San  Pietro  in  Mon- 
torio, for  which  the  finest  picture  in  the  world,  the  Trans- 
figuration, was  originally  painted— but  fortunately,  both  for 
its  preservation  and  the  just  display  of  its  unapproached 
perfrction,  it  is  no  longer  here. 

*  These  nearly  obliterated  frescos  of  Domenichino,  of  which,  on  snb- 
seqnent  careful  examination,  I  found  the  outline  still  visible,  represent 
the  Baptism  of  St.  Jerome,— St.  Jerome  Tempted  by  the  Devil,  who  is 
rolling  on  the  ground,  and  scratching  his  head  in  despairing  perplexity 
what  next  to  essay  against  the  virtue  of  the  saint,— and  St.  Jerome 
Scouiged  by  an  Angel,  an  event  which  is  gravely  asserted  to  have  hap- 
pened,  though  why  the  saint  was  chastised  in  this  extraordinary  way  I 
could  not  learn.  I  afterwards  saw,  in  a  house  adjoining  the  church,  a 
Madonna,  by  Leonardo  da  Yinci,  unquestionably  original ;  to  which, 
being  unprovided  at  our  first  visit  with  a  Cardinal's  pass  of  entrance  to 
convents,  we,  Udies,  were  refused  admittance. 


Digitized  by 


Google 


26  BQMX. 

The  Flagellstion  of  Christ,  designed  with  all  the  ener;|r 
and  GorrectnesB  of  Buonarotti,  and  painted  with  all  the  Tivtd 
colouring  of  Sebastian  del  Fiombo,  still  adorns  one  of  these 
obscure  chapels. 

I  believe  Mr.  Angerstein's  Besurrection  of  Lazarus,* 
which  was  also  designed  and  painted  by  the  united  powem 
of  the  same  great  masters  of  design  and  colouring,  was  taken 
from  this  church. 

In  the  cloister  of  the  conyent,  there  is  a  small  modem 
eircular  Doric  temple,  erected  by  Bramante,  at  the  com- 
mand and  expense  of  Ferdinand  and  Isabella  of  Spain,  on 
the  spot  whicn  tradition  points  out  as  the  scene  of  the  mais 
tyrdom  of  the  prince  of  the  apostles. 

SmaU  and  simple  as  this  little  building  is,  Bramante  has 
contrived  to  make  it  a  proof  that  the  best  of  Italian  archi- 
tects (and  he  was  the  best)  would  have  succeeded  as  ill  in 
temples  as  they  have  done  in  churches. 

If,  however,  there  is  a  complete  contrast  in  architecturai 
beauty — ^it  is  curious  to  see  m  how  many  particulars,  small 
and  great,  modem  Boman  Catholic  churches  correspond  to 
ancient  Pagan  temples.  It  is  not  only  in  the  pictures  and 
statues,  in  the  plan  and  the  decorations,  in  which  we  might 
be  glad  to  trace  even  a  closer  resemblance — but  it  is  in  the 
plumii^  of  gods,  in  the  worship  of  images,  in  the  holy 
places,  m  the  real  presence,  in  tne  altars  and  votive  ofiEer* 
mgs,  in  the  holy  water,  in  the  multiplied  ceremonies,  in 
the  pompous  processions,  in  the  refuge  of  sanctuaries, — in 
all  that  we  see,  hear,  and  do, — ^that  we  might  almost  as  well 
be  in  a  Pagan  as  in  a  Christian  temple.  Even  the  glory 
that  surrounds  the  heads  of  saints  formeriy  encircled  the 
statues  of  gods.  Images  of  Apollo  and  Diana,  of  Fortune 
and  Pallas,  had  this  nvmbus,  or  halo  of  light,  round  their 
heads — and  it  seems  afterwards  to  have  become  oommon.t 
The  Virgin  is  often  represented  with  the  crescent,  as  the 
symbol  of  chastity — exactlv  like  Diana  of  old. 

It  is  curious,  too,  that  the  doorways  of  ancront  temples, 
]i&e  those  of  all  the  Italian  churches,  were  closed  with  a 

•  Kow  in  the  BHtiah  National  Galleiy. 
t  Winkdman, Hist dsrAft,  Uh. vi  eap.  2.  fM. 


Digitized  by 


Google 


cuBioiTS  oonrcfiDEircES.  27 

IieaYj  curiam.*  But  we  should  neyer  be  done,  if  we 
were  to  go  through  the  parallel  between  them  in  all  its 
minuti®. 

And  here  I  gladly  finish  this  hastj^  and  perhaps  imperfect 
Bwpvej  of  the  churches  of  Eome,  with  the  fullest  conviction 
that  you  will  not  complain  of  its  brevity,  however  you  ma^ 
suffer  imder  its  tediousness — ^that  what  is  dull  in  investi- 
^tion,  cannot  possibly  be  amusing  in  description ;  and  that 
it  is  unreasonable  to  expect  vou  to  listen  with  pleasure  to 
tiie  description  of  what  I  coidd  not  see  with  patience. 

«  Wiiikehiiaii,fiirrAieli.i64. 


Digitized  by 


Google 


soxx. 


LETTEE  Lin. 

FOUNTATETS. 

Eboh  St.  Hetro  in  Montorio,  where  we  finished  our 
weary  visitation  of  Eoman  churches,  and,  I  believe,  ahnost 
made  a  vow  never  to  enter  another  as  long  as  we  lived,  from 
motives  of  curiosity;  we  walked  to  the  Fontana  Paolina. 
Long  before  we  came  in  sight  of  it,  the  rushing  of  its 
mighty  waters  stole  gradually  upon  our  ear ;  but  the  sound 
did  not  sufficiently  prepare  us  for  the  sight,  and  we  stood 
transfixed  with  astonishment  to  behold  three  noble  cascades, 
falling  in  foam  into  an  immense  basin,  whose  surfEice  was 
agitated  like  the  waves  of  a  lake  by  their  concussion. 

The  beautifrd  solitude  of  its  situation,  surrounded  by  a 
deep  evergreen  shade,  and  yet  commanding  one  of  the  most 
enchanting  prospects  over  the  whole  of  Bome  and  the  plain 
of  the  Campagna,  bounded  onlv  by  the  romantic  heights  of 
the  distant  Apennines,  is  one  of  its  greatest  charms. 

The  Fontana  Paolina,  by  a  whimsical  coincidence,  com- 
bines the  names  of  its  architect  and  maker,  Fontana,  and 
Paolo  V.  I  never  could  forgive  that  good-for-nothing  old 
Pope,  for  despoiling  the  Forum  of  Nerva  of  its  precious 
remains,  to  ornament  the  tasteless  fabric  which  the  joint 
skill  of  himself  and  his  builder  has  raised.  Two  dragons' 
heads,  fixed  on  each  side  of  them,  and  which,  instead  of  fire, 
spout  out  insignificant  streams  of  water,  contribute  to  spoil 
the  fine  effect  of  these  beautiful  cascades,  which  have  no 
parallel  even  in  Bome.  Nothing,  indeed,  strikes  a  stranger 
with  more  just  admiration  on  ms  arrivsd  in  this  capital  of 
the  world,  than  the  immense  numbers  of  fountains,  which 
pour  forth  their  unceasiag  flow  of  waters  on  every  side.  It 
IS  a  luxury,  the  full  value  of  which  cannot  be  felt  but  in  such 
a  climate  as  this;  and  those  only  who  have  known  that 
delicious  moment,  when  the  blaze  of  the  summer-day  fades 


Digitized  by 


Google 


roXTSTAJKB  OT  BOMS.  28 

at  last  in  tlie  ^Iden  clouds  of  eveninfi^,  can  understand  the 
Toluptuous  delights  with  which,  in  its  hushed  hour  of  still- 
ness and  repose,  you  listen  to  the  music  of  their  dashing 
murmur,  ana  rest  beside  their  freshness. 

The  beautiful  ibuntains  that  play  before  the  erand  front 
of  St.  Peter's,  alone  of  all  those  of  Borne,  satisij  mj  ima- 
gination, and  delight  my  taste.  I  know  not  how  to  des- 
cribe to  you  their  beauty;  but  visit  them  in  the  repose  of 
eyening,  when  that  moon,  which  here  shines  like  a  brighter 
planet,  walks  in  her  glory  through  the  heavens ;  when  the 
stars  awake  their  mysterious  fires,  and  the  soft  moon-beam 
&I1b  upon  the  lines  of  the  Grecian  columns,  on  the  swelling 
grandeur  of  the  majestic  dome,  the  tall  height  of  the  ancient 
obelise,  and  the  sweep  of  the  circling  colonnades;  when 
it  brings  every  beauty  into  view,  throws  every  defect  into 
shade — ^when  the  freshness  of  the  new-bom  breeze  fans  the 
cheek  with  its  voluptuous  breath,  and  the  voice  of  the 
falling  waters  soothes  the  soul  to  rest; — ^visit  them  then, 
and  you  will  feel  their  enchantment. 

To  describe,  or  to  listen  to  the  description  of  all  the 
principal  fountains  of  Bome,  would  indeed  be  a  terrific 
task.  They  are,  generally  speaking,  all  deficient  in  that 
greatest  of  beauties,  which,  though  it  would  seem  the  easiest 
to  be  found,  is  always  the  last  attained — ^the  beauty  of  sim- 
plicity; and  which  is  to  the  fine  arts  what  action  is  to  the 
orator, — ^the  first,  the  second,  and  the  third  requisite. 

The  fountain  of  Trevi  has  been  renownedt  through  the 
world,  and  so  highly  extolled,  that  my  expectations  were 
raised  to  the  highest  stretch ;  and  great  was  my  disappoint- 
ment when  I  was  taken  into  a  little,  dirty,  confined,  miser- 
able piazza,  nearly  filled  up'  with  one  large  palace,  beneath 
which  spouted  out  a  variety^  of  tortuous  streamlets,  that  are 
made  to  gurgle  over  artificial  rocks,  and  to  bathe  the  bodies 
of  various  sea-horses,  tritons,  and  other  marble  monsters, 
which  are  sprawling  about  in  it.  After  some  cogitation, 
you  discover  they  are  trying  to  draw  Neptune  on,  who, 
though  stuck  up  in  a  niche  of  the  palace  wall,  as  if  meant 
to  be  stationary,  is  standing  at  the  same  time  with  his  feet 
on  a  sort  of  car,  as  if  intended  to  be  riding  over  the 
waters. 


Digitized  by 


Google 


fM  BOMS. 

Now,  all  this  seemi  to  me  to  be  in  reey  bad  taste.  I 
have  no  objection  to  the  moiuurch  or  the  nymphs  of  the  sea^ 
to  tritons,  or  rhrer-gods,  or  any  other  descnption  of  these 
creatures,  either  in  painting  or  sculpture,  where  all  is  equally 
fictitious,  and  consequently  all  in  unison ;  but  it  strikes  me 
as  an  outraee  upon  probability  and  taste,  to  have  real  water 
and  artificiid  monstcvs,  and  to  see  sea-horses  and  men  carved 
of  stone,  sitting  immoveable  in  the  pure  liring  stream.  In- 
deed, the  copious  quantity  and  pellucid  deamess  of  the 
water,  is  the  only  beauty  that  I  could  see  in  the  Fontana 
di  Treri.  It  would,  I  think,  be  difficult  to  dispose  of  so 
much  water  to  less  advantage  than  the  contrivers  of  this 
fountain  have  produced;  and  they  have  done  their  utmost, 
by  the  enormous  palace  they  have  built  above  it^  and  the 
colosml  statues  they  have  stuck  up  in  it,  to  diminish  as 
much  as  possible  the  effect  of  the  immensity  and  the  gran« 
deur  of  such  a  body  of  water. 

This  water  is  the  delicious  Acqua  Yeigine,  the  same  that 
flowed  into  Some  in  the  age  of  Augustus,  and  was  brought 
by  M.  Agrippa  for  the  use  of  his  baths.  Modem  Bome  is 
chiefly  supphed  with  it;  although  the  Fontami  Felice,  on 
the  QttirinaL  Hill,  is  said  by  some  to  be  of  still  finer  quality. 

That  Fountain  is  called  ''  Felice,"  because  Sixtus  Y .,  who 
built  it,  was  called  JB'ra  i^lix  in  the  cloister ;  an  auspicious 
name,  which  augured  well  the  fortunes  of  him  who  was 
raised  from  the  station  of  a  shepherd  boy  to  a  throne,*  and 
not  only  to  the  rank  of  a  prince,  but  to  be  a  ruler  of  princes. 
It  is  also  called  BowiatM  di  Shrmmi,  from  its  vicinity  to  the 
ThermsB  of  Diocletian. 

It  represents  Moses  striking  the  rock,-— or  rather  Moses 
does  not  strike  the  rock,  nor  is  there  a  rock  to  strike ;  but 
it  is  supposed  he  does ;  and  he  stands  in  one  niche  with  a 
rod  in  his  hand,  and  Aaron  and  Gideon,  or  some  such  supers 
fluous  persons,  are  sturtioned  in  others,  amidst  bas-reliefs. 

"What  have  four  lions,  either  ancient  or  modem,  to  do 
with  spouting  out  water?  and  what  business  have  they 
here  P    Two  of  these  lions,  formed  of  basalt,  are  of  Egyptian 

*  He  was  the  son  of  a  poor  peasant  in  the  March  of  Ancona,  tad 
tended  his  father^s  fiockSi 


Digitized  by 


Google 


VOKTAJTA  SI  TBBMnrC  81 

extraetion,  and  are  supposed  to  hare  been  biouglit  captiyetr 
to  Bome,  when  Augustus  returned  after  the  battle  of 
Actium.  The  poor  animals  were  taken  from  the  portico 
of  the  Pantheon,  to  perform  this  unnatural  employment. 
Bams'  heads,  lions,  masks,  all  kinds  of  mouths,  were  used 
for  this  purpose  hj  the  ancients  as  well  as  the  modems. 
We  seem  to  have  kept  all  their  absurdities  in  addition  to 
our  own. 

The  front  of  the  Fontana  di  Termini  is  built  of  large 
masses  of  Trayertine,  adorned  with  little  columns  of  mar* 
ble,  and  surmounted  with  a  long  inscription ;  the  whole  is 
weighed  down  ynth  a  cumbrous  attic,  and  is  much  admired. 

In  the  Piazza  Navona  are  three  fountains;  the  centre 
one  supports  the  obelise  brought  from  the  Circus  of  Can* 
calla.  It  consists  of  a  great  mass  of  artificial  rock,  to  which 
are  chained  four  river  gods — a  truly  Bernini  idea !  He  has 
not  placed  them  at  rest,  in  the  recumbent,  meditative,  clas- 
sical posture  of  river-gods,  but  fastened  them  in  the  most 
uneasy  attitudes,  and  unnatural  contortions;  and  in  order 
to  show  proper  contempt  for  the  architecture  of  Borromini, 
who  built  tne  front  of  St.  Agnes's  church,  the  two  watelf 
deities  on  the  side  next  it  are  made  to  throw  up  their  eyes 
to  it  in  the  shrinking  attitude  of  terror,  as  if  expecting  it  to 
&U  upon  them.  But  the  Church  of  St.  Agnes  stands  where 
it  did,  and  has  no  appearance  of  moving ;  so  that  the  alarm 
of  these  huge  (creatures  seems  only  ludicrous  and  cowardly. 
If  they  had  held  up  their  hands  and  eyes  at  its  ugliness,  I 
should  have  had  some  sympathy  with  them ;  but  of  its  sta- 
bility there  is,  unfortunately,  no  reason  to  doubt.  Prom 
each  of  these  colossal  river  gods,  springs  his  own  dribbUna 
stream.  You  see  at  once  the  source  of  the  Nile,  whicn 
some  stupid  people  imagined  had  never  yet  been  traced — • 
and  the  Danube  spouts  out  his  mighty  waters,  in  force 
sufficient  to  M  a  moderate-sized  bucket.  After  a  short 
course  down  the  sides  of  the  artificial  rock,  the  four  great 
rivers  of  the  different  quarters  of  the  world  are  lost  in  the 
basin  of  the  fountain,  which  represents  the  Ocean. 

I  forgot  to  mention  that  there  is,  besides,  a  cavern  in  the 
rock,  in  which  a  lion  and  a  horse  reside  in  the  most  amicably 
manner  possible ;  though  what  they  do  there  in  the  middle 


Digitized  by 


Google 


82  BOios. 

of  tlie  sea,  I  do  not  exactly  compreliend.  This  fountain  is 
(Contrived  so  as  to  overflow  annuallj ;  and  during  the  burn- 
ing heats  of  sununer,  for  a  few  evenings  in  the  month  ot 
August,  it  is  the  deUght  of  the  people  of  Borne  to  drive 
about  among  its  waters,  which  fill  the  Piazza  Navona.  It 
yras  suggested  by  an  ingenious  Mend  of  mine,  that  this 
custom  was  probably  the  remains  of  the  sports  of  the  Nau- 
machia,  exhibited  at  the  annual  games  in  honour  of  the 
gods,  at  this  very  period  of  the  year,  and  in  this  very  spot, 
which  was  the  ancient  Circus  Agonalis. 

There  is  a  much-admired  fountain  in  the  Piazza  Barbe- 
rini,  from  a  design  of  Bernini's,  in  which  a  stone  Triton  sits 
upon  four  dolphins,  and  throws  up  the  water  &om  a  large 
shell.  But  the  prettiest  of  these  minor  fountains,  in  my 
opinion,  is  that  of  the  Tartantchey  in  the  Piazza  Mattei,  in 
vnuch  four  bronze  figures,  in  singularly  graceful  attitudes, 
support  a  vase,  fix)m  which  the  water  flows.  It  derives  its 
name  from  the  four  tortoises  that  adorn  it. 

On  the  whole,  I  admire,  with  fond  admiration,  the  foun- 
taias  of  Eome;  not  that  as  fountains  I  think  them  beau- 
tiful; but  that  falling  water,  in  ample  quantity,  must  be 
beautiful  in  a  climate  like  this,  where  its  sound,  even  in 
winter,  is  so  sweet  to  the  senses.  I  love  to  repose  ^ly  fancy 
upon  the  three  noble  cascades  that  are  poured  forth  at  the 
Fontana  Paolina ;  the  copious  streams  which  burst  from  the 
rocks  of  the  Fountain  oi  Trevi ;  and  those  silver  fountains 
that  throw  high  in  air  their  glittering  showers  within  the 
grand  colonnades  of  St.  Peter's.  These  are  beautiful;  but 
toT  all  the  ugly  statues  of  monsters  and  men, — sea-horses 
and  dragons, — prophets  and  lions, — and  fishes  and  gods,— 
I  hold  them  in  utter  abhorrence,  as  well  as  the  clumsy  and 
hideous  buildings  erected  above  them. 


Digitized  by 


Google 


THB  YJlTICJLS  UBBABT. 


LBTTEE  LIV. 
Yatiojls  Lebeaby. 

The  Vatican  Library  is  called  the  largest  in  tlie  world ; 
not  that  it  contaiiis  the  most  books,  but  the  most  space ; 
for  although  it  has  been  formed  ever  since  the  days  of 
Hilary,  pope  and  saint,  and  been  augmented  by  the  accu- 
mulation of  several  subsequent  popes  and  saints;  and  has 
received  the  entire  libraries  of  various  kings  and  cardinals, 
(amonjzst  others,  that  of  Queen  Christina  of  Sweden,)  and 
part  of  the  library  of  the  Eoman  Emperor  of  Constantinople 
— yet,  after  all,  I  am  assured,  on  what  I  believe  to  be  good 
authority,  that  it  scarcely  possesses  forty  thousand  volumes, 
although  the  amoimt  is  generally  stated  at  double  that 
number. 

The  collection  of  manuscripts  is,  however,  extremely  rare 
and  valuable,  and  amounts  to  upwards  of  thirty  thousand. 
Some  of  these  are  very  curious.  The  famous  Virgil,  with 
its  costume  paintings  of  the  Trojans  and  Latins,  supposed 
to  have  been  executed  about  the  age  of  Constantine ;  the 
Terence,  with  its  paintings  of  masks,  of  nearly  as  ancient 
date ;  the  manuscript  of  Phny,  with  its  pictured  Noah's  ark 
of  aniTTiRla ;  HcuTy  VIII.'s  letters  to  Anne  Boleyn ;  and 
his  Treatise  on  the  Seven  Sacraments,  which  he  presented 
to  Leo  X.,  and  in  return  received  the  title  of  Defender  of 
that  Faith  which  he  was  so  soon  to  overthrow;  the  Tasso 
and  Dante,  and  an  infinity  of  others, — ^interesting  as  they 
are,  have  been  already  so  o&en  described,  that  I  sh^  abstain 
from  any  observation  upon  them.  The  Abate  Maio  dis- 
covered, amongst  these  MSS.,  about  the  year  1824,  a  part 
of  the  lost  books  of  Cicero  I)e  Bepvhlica,  over  which,  how- 
ever, some  of  the  treatises  of  St.  Augustin  had  been  written, 
but  the  original  MS.,  although  much  defisu^ed,  is  said  to  be 
still  legible. 

TOL.  II.  O 


Digitized  by 


Google 


34  BOici. 

The  only  access  to  the  Vatican  Library  is  from  the 
Museum.  The  great  door,  which  is  of  bronze,  and  rery 
magnificent,  seems  intended  for  ornament  rather  than  use, 
for  it  is  never  opened.  The  usual  entrance  is  by  a  small  door, 
which  opens  into  the  office  of  the  seven  clerks,  or  writers  of 
the  principal  Euronean  languages,  who  are  attached  to  the 
library.  A  cardinal  is  always  the  nominal  librarian,  and  this 
room  is  hung  with  the  portraits  of  these  Oardmali  Bibluh 
tecarjy  amongst  which  there  is  one  by  Domeniclnno. 

Passing  on  through  an  ante-room,  you  enter  a  hall  two 
hundred  feet  by  fifty,  entirely  painted  in  fresco,  with  colours 
so  glanng,  and  contrasts  so  violent,  that  it  reminded  me  of 
an  immense  China  bowl.  This  capacious  apartm^it  con- 
tains no  visible  sign  of  books,  and  indeed  you  may  walk 
through  the  whole  Vatican  Library  without  seeing  one :  for 
they  are  shut  up  in  wooden  presses,  which  may  conceal 
either  great  wealth  or  great  poverty. 

In  this  hall  there  is  a  column  of  most  beautiful  Oriental 
alabaster,  spirally  fluted,  brought  from  the  Baths  of  the 
Emperor  Gbrdian,  near  the  Trophies  of  Marius,  and  erected 
upon  a  pedestal  of  verde  antico.  The  capital  is  unfortu- 
nately lost. 

Here  also  are  two  small  Etruscan  cinerary  urns,  of  terra- 
cotta; with  the  common  sepulchral  bas-reHef  of  the  fratricidal 
combat  of  Eteocles  and  Polynices. 

On  either  side  of  them  appear  their  guardian  spirits,  who, 
the  Etruscans  supposed,  never  left  man  from  the  cradle  to 
the  tomb.  Or  rather,  perhaps,  they  here  represent  the 
Euries,  who  urged  on  the  royal  brothers  to  this  sanguinary 
combat,  and  who  stand  exulting  over  their  victims,  flapping 
their  long  wings.  But  the  Etruscan  deities  are  generally 
winged.  Minerva  is  represented  on  an  Etruscan  monument 
like  Mercury,  with  wings  both  on  her  heels  and  shoulders ; 
and  Venus,  Diana,  and  several  others,  have  the  same  attri- 
butes. 

"We  were  shown  the  remnant  of  a  piece  of  cloth  of  As- 
bestos, found  in  a  sarcophagus  on  the  Appian  "Way,  which, 
the  man  who  exhibited  it  assured  us  was  quite  indestruc- 
tible by  ^e;  at  the  same  time  that  he  very  consistently 
lamented  that  it  was  reduced  aJmost  to  nothmg,  by  having 


Digitized  by 


Google 


VHS  TATlOAlf  LIBBABY.  85 

been  so  often  Imint.  The  fact  is,  that  to  a  oertain  degree 
it  resists  the  action  of  fire,  and  it  was  therefore  used  by  the 
Bomans  to  collect  the  ashes  of  the  wealthy  dead. 

Haying  conceiyed  this  halL  to  be  the  whole  library,  great 
was  my  surprise  to  behold  at  its  extremity,  on  either  hand, 
a  long  gaUery  open  upon  me  in  almost  mterminable  per- 
spective.* I  actually  stood  mute  with  astonishment — a 
rare  effect  on  the  female  mind ;  and  like  the  ass  between 
two  bundles  of  hay,  I  scarcely  knew  which  gallery  to 
take. 

The  one  is  terminated  by  the  Sacred,  the  other  by  the 
Profime  Cabinet,  as  they  are  pleased  to  call  them;  the 
first  being  a  collection  of  Chnstiaii,  the  last  of  Pagan 
antiquities. 

On  our  way  to  the  former,  we  encountered  the  statue 
of  St.  Hippolytus,  with  a  modem  head,  but  a  body  of  un- 
doubted authenticity,  and  unquestionably  the  most  ancient 
statue  of  a  Christian  extant.  It  is  a  work  of  the  age  of 
Alexander  Severus,  and  was  dug  out  of  the  catacombs. 
Opposite  to  him  sits  AriBtides,'not  the  ancient  philosopher, 
but  a  rhetorician  of  degenerate  days;  whose  statue  bears 
no  more  comparison  to  that  Aristides  we  had  so  much 
admired  at  Naples,t  than  does  his  fame  to  that  of  the 
Grecian  sage;  and  we  passed  him  without  one  tribute  of 
respect  or  admiration. 

The  Sacred  Cabinet  consists  of  curiosities  taken  £rom  the 
catacombs — ^laborious  carvings  of  Madonnas  in  ivory — ^little 
pictures  of  saints  on  ^  grounds— bas-reliefs  of  the  bar- 
barous ages,  representrag  martyrdoms — ^instruments  used 
in  martyrising  the  early  Christians,  and  a  long  et  cetera 
of  all  sorts  of  heterogeneous  articles.  There  are  a  number 
of  red  velvet  jewel  cases — empty;  the  French  having  carried 
off  all  the  precious  stones  they  could  find,  without  any 
regard  to  their  sanctity;  so  that  the  ear-rings  and  brooches 
of  the  saints  and  martyrs,  in  all  probability,  are  now  adorn- 
ing the  belles  and  elegantes  of  Paris. 

The  adjoining  chamber  of  the  Papyri  is  the  most  beau- 

*  We  affcerwards  learned  tliat  it  is  1200  English  feet  in  length. 
t  Ponnd  in  Herculaneum.    One  of  the  finest  statues  in  the  world.  . 

J>  2 


Digitized  by 


Google 


86  soius. 

tiful  little  hijau  I  ever  beheld.  Its  architecture  and  deco- 
rations are  by  Sapbael  Mengs,  who  was  employed  by 
Clement  XIY.  to  miULe  it,  and  to  paint  the  roof  in  fresco. 
He  has  represented  History  writing  on  the  wings  of  Time, 
and  Fame  hoyering  in  the  air,  and  sounding  forth  to  the 
world  the  deeds  she  records.  The  composition  is  not,  per- 
haps, yery  learned,  but  the  figure  of  Tune  is  fine,  and  the 
cofouiing,  when  compared  with  the  horrible  daubing  of  the 
present  Erench  and  Italian  schools,  deseryes  the  greatest 
praise. 

Mengs,  like  nuuiy  other  artists,  was  too  much  cried  up  in 
his  lifetime,  and  cned  down  since  his  death. 

The  payement  of  this  superb  little  apartment  is  of  the 
richest  marbles;  the  walls  are  encrusted  with  pallo  and 
verde  antico,  with  porphyry  and  pilasters  6f  Oriental  granite 
of  the  highest  polish ;  and  the  whole  decoration  is  as  much 
distinguished  by  taste  as  magnificence. 

The  Papyrus  manuscripts,  which  consist  of  ancient 
yolumes  unrolled,  are  enclosed  in  the  walls  in  long  columns 
under  glass.  They  are  of  the  fourth,  fifth,  and  sixth  cen- 
turies, in  Ghreek  and  in  Latin ;  but  in  matter  are  of  little 
interest.  When  closely  examined,  the  papyrus  has  the 
appearance  of  waxed  cloth. 

The  library,  at  this  extremity,  has  been  extended  by  the 
present  Pope,  who  has  added  some  rooms,  in  which  the 
t)ooks  can  actually  be  seen,  and  eyen  got  at.  He  has  also 
formed  a  narrow  httle  gallery,  the  walls  of  which  are  entirely 
composed  of  inscriptions  in  terrarcotta,  that  otherwise  inight 
haye  been  entirely  lost.  I  am  sorry  I  can  giye  you  no 
account  of  them,  my  attention  havmg  been  entirely  en- 
grossed by  some  Etruscan,  or,  more  properly,  Grecian 
yases,  of  singular  beauty.  An  immense  number  of  yases 
are  ranged  on  the  top  of  the  book-cases,  along  the  whole 
extent  of  the  gallery;  but  these  are  by  far  the  largest  and 
finest,  and,  indeed,  surpass  any  I  haye  seen,  except  the  un- 
riyalled  collection  at  [Naples. 

This  library  possesses  a  yery  fine  cabinet  of  medals,  which 
was  carried  off^  and  has  been  restored,  by  the  French ;  but 
it  is  still  in  such  complete  confusion,  tliat  it  cannot  be  in- 
spected. 


Digitized  by 


Google 


THX  YATIOAJer  LIBBABT.  87 

There  is,  too,  attached  to  the  libnuy,  a  whole  chamber 
filled  with  a  fine  collection  of  prints,  to  which  it  is  neoes- 
eaiy  to  have  a  particular  order  for  admittance,  and  in  an- 
other chamber,  are  the  secret  archiyes  of  the  Vatican,  to 
which  there  is  no  admittance  at  all. 

We  traversed  the  whole  extent  of  this  immense  galleiy 
to  the  Profane  Cabinet,  at  the  other  extremity,  whidi  con- 
tains a  most  entertaining  collection  of  antiques.  Some  of 
the  bronzes,  especially,  are  extremely  curious  and  rare. 
Two  bronze  heads,  fiwm  their  singular  beauty,  first  catch 
the  eye;  and  also,  but  from  an  opposite  cause,  a  bronze 
Etruscan  figure  with  the  buUa,  or  amulet,  about  his  neck, 
bearing  an  Etruscan  inscription,  a  part  of  which  has  been 
deciphered,  signifying  that  it  was  a  votive  statue.  It  is  very 
mucn  in  what  we  should  call  Chinese  taste ;  the  form  and 
features,  as  well  as  the  style,  bear  a  near  approach  to  it. 
There  are  numbers  of  Penates ;  of  those  long-legged,  spindly, 
little  bronze  figures,  with  enormous  casques,  exactly  like 
cocked  hats,  on  their  heads,  which  abound  m  every  museum. 
Among  these  I  saw  the  Egyptian  Sethas,  dressed  in  a  tunic, 
and  armed  with  a  shield  and  a  long  sword,  which,  I  think, 
precisely  answers  to  the  description  of  the  Seeutor,*  I 
observed  some  types  for  stamping — so  close  an  approach  to 
types  for  printing,  that  I  cannot  but  marvel  how  the  an- 
cients missed  that  invaluable  invention. 

There  are  several   lead  water-pipes,  marked  with    the 

f  lumbers'  names ;  but  I  might  write  a  Httle  volume,  were 
to  particularise  one  half  of  the  curiosities  I  observed.  I 
will,  therefore,  pass  over  the  most  complete  collection  of 
antique  kitchen  and  household  utensils  I  have  ever  seen, 
and  many  exquisite  .Httle  pieces  of  art  in  gems,  bronze, 
Ac. 

Perhaps  the  most  singular  thing  in  the  whole,  of  its  kind, 
is  the  long  hair  of  a  Eoman  lady,  found  in  a  tomb  on  the 
Appian  Way,  and  in  perfect  preservation.     It  is  strange 

*  The  Secutores  were  one  of  the  kinda  of  gladiatore.  They  fought 
with  the  Retiarii,  who  endeavoured  to  entangle  them  by  throwing 
their  net  over  their  head,  while  the  Secutores  pursued  them  to  prevent 
their  puzpose,  and  slay  them. — Tide  laidor.  zviii.  55. 


Digitized  by 


Google 


88  Bim. 

bow  it  alone  Bbould  have  escaped  the  oommon  doom,  and  be, 
I  may  8ar»  tbe  sole  pbysical  remnant  of  bundreds  of  geneia- 
tions.  Tbeir  bones,  tbeir  asbes,  tbeir  every  vestige  of  mor- 
tality, bave  all  vanisbed;  not  even  tbe  paring  of  a  nail, 
as  far  as  I  know,  is  left  of  all  tbat  lived  and  died  in  tbe 
long  ages  of  Boman  glory  or  degeneracy — except  tbese 
tresses;  wbicb  still  remain  brown  and  unchanged,  as 
wben  tbeir  beauty  first  pleased  tbe  eye  of  ber  wbom  tbey 
adorned. 


Digitized  by 


Google 


THE  BISTDTS   CHAPEL. 


LETTEELV. 

The  Sisthtb  Chapel— The  Last  Judgmbitt — Michael 
Angblo — ^Thb  Paolina  Chapel — Sala  Bobgla. 

Ths  TVench,  in  permaxiently  placing  the  most  celebrated 
portable  productions  of  art  at  Paris,  would  have  committed 
an  irreparable  iujury  to  sculpture  and  painting ;  for,  by  remov- 
ing the  apparent  strongest  temptations  to  artists  to  travel 
through  Italv,  they  would  have  excluded  the  majority  of 
them  £rom  the  true  schools  of  art,  which  are  the  n*e8COS  of 
ancient  masters,  and  the  inumerable  and  unremovable  works 
of  Ghrecian  sculpture, — especially  bassi  rilievi, — ^to  the  study 
of  which  paintmg  itself  owes  much  that  is  great  and  beau- 
tiful in  its  design,  conception,  and  execution. 

There  is  no  part  of  Italy  that  does  not  present  a  field  of 
study.  Bologna,  Florence,  Y  enice,  Naples,*  and  even  Gfenoa 
and  Milan,  abound  in  instruction  and  delight.  But  Eome 
surpasses  all.  Here,  at  every  step,  the  artist  wOl  drink  in 
instruction,  that  years  of  study  could  not  give  him  in  our 
Grothic  countries.  If  he  has  taste  or  genius,  here  it  must 
develope  itself^  and  find  in  every  surrounding  object  aliment 
hr  its  growing  powers. 

The  inexhaustible  treasures  of  the  Vatican,  the  Capitol, 
and  the  Villa  Albani,  with  iimumerable  statues,  bas-r^efs, 
and  fragments  of  exquisite  sculpture,  that  meet  the  eye  at 
every  turn ;  the  frescos  of  Michael  Angelo,  Baphael,  Annibale 
Caracd,  Ghuido,  Domenichino,  and  Guercino--all  these,  and 
far  more,  does  Bome  contain.   Until  you  know  these  frescos, 

*  Naples  for  the  ecalptor,  Bologna  and  Venice  for  the  painter,  and 
Florence  for  both,  are  inestimable  schools.  But  let  it  be  remembered, 
that  tiiough  the  sculptor  may  be  excused  the  study  of  painting,  the 
painter  can  never  sufficiently  study  sculpture. 


Digitized  by 


Google 


40  SOME. 

you  cannot  know  what  painting  is.  .From  these  alone  can 
you  understand  the  true  principles,  powers,  and  perfection  of 
the  art.  Experience  only  can  make  this  be  felt.  Thousands 
who  behold  the  Transfiraration  never  dream  that  they  see 
the  least  part  of  Eaphael.  Hence  the  student,  satisfied  with 
the  collection  of  the  Louvre,  would  rarely  have  explored 
Europe  to  visit  the  forgotten  Ireasures  of  Italy. 

The  French  only  lopped  a  few  branches  of  the  tree  of 
art — ^they  could  not  remove  its  root  and  stem. 

But,  independent  of  the  inconceivable  mine  of  instruction 
contained  in  those  models,  which  must  be  fixtures  here,  the 
artist  will  here  find  a  finer  nature.  Forms,  whose  contour 
and  symmetry  far  surpass  in  perfection  those  of  our  ungenial 
climates;  whose  attitudes  and  expression,  untaught  grace, 
and  classical  beauty,  I  have  often  thought  even  approach  the 
ideal, — continually  meet  his  sight;  and  their  study  must 
give  to  his  imagination  new  combinations  of  aU  that  can 
constitute  perfection. 

To  return  to  the  frescos,  the  value  of  which  cannot  be 
justly  estimated  at  the  first  glance, — I  imagiue  no  one  can 
now  see  the  Last  Judgment  of  Michael  Angelo  without  a 
feeling  of  extreme  disappointment.  It  is,  indeed,  somewhat 
difficmt  to  see  it  at  all.  The  architect  of  the  Sistme  Chapel 
has  so  ingeniously  contrived  to  exclude  the  light,  that,  unless 
when  the  sun  shines  unclouded,  high  in  the  meridian,  the 
attempt  is  vain ;  and  even  then,  blackened  with  the  smoke  of 
innumerable  tapers,  during  three  centuries,  it  may  be  sup- 
posed that  many  of  its  beauties  are  now  obscured.  Besides 
this,  a  huge,  high,  red  velvet  canopy,  hfts  its  awkward  back 
from  the  altar  into  the  very  centre  of  the  picture,  breaking 
up  the  subject,  and  spoiling  the  effect  of  the  whole. 

We  had  interest  enough  with  some  of  the  red-legged  race 
to  get  this  machine  removed,  for  our  especial  benefit,  during 
two  or  three  days ;  but  until  a  Pope  of  taste  shall  wear  the 
tiara,  there  is  no  chance  of  its  being  carried  off  alto- 
gether. 

The  common  engraving—bad  as  at  is,  for  a  good  one  is 
still  a  desideratum, — ^will  give  you  a  far  clearer  idea  of  this 
celebrated  fresco  than  the  most  laboured  description ;  there- 
fore I  shall  content  myself  with  observing,  that  it  covers  the 


Digitized  by 


Google 


whole  of  the  wa31  of  the  upper  end  of  the  chapel,  from  the 
ceiling  to  the  floor.  High  in  the  centre,  is  Cniist  jadgine 
the  world,  in  the  yery  act  of  denouncing  to  the  wicked 
beneath,  on  his  left  hand,  that  awful  sentence — "Depart, 
je  cursed,  into  everlasting  fire,  prepared  for  the  devil  and  his 
angels."  While  ^lorj  ineffikble  surrounds  his  head,  and  saints 
and  beautified  spirits  hover  around  him,  the  heavenly  minis- 
ters of  divine  vengeance  are  hurling  the  condemned  down- 
wards to  the  bottomless  abyss.  Their  last  uplifted  looks  to 
that  heaven  which  is  shut  against  them  forever, — the  ghastly 
fear  depicted  on  their  countenances, — and  their  desperate 
struggles  of  resistance,  are  horrible  beyond  conception. 

At  this  comer  of  the  picture,  at  the  bottom,  is  repre- 
sented Charon,  fenying  them  in  his  boat  over  the  dark 
waters  of  Styx,  and  driving  the  reluctant  spirits  out  with 
his  oar,  exactly  as  Dante  describes  him — 

"  Batte  col  remo  qnalunque  B*adagia." 

The  depths  of  hell  open  on  its  brink,  and  yelling  demons, 
with  diabolical  gestures,  and  girt  with  hissing  snakes  and 
scorpions,  such  as  even  Dante's  imagination  could  scarcely 
have  conjured  up,  stretch  forth  their  fiery  arms  to  seize 
the  trembling  victims. 

On  the  other  hand,  around  the  throne  of  glory,  angels  are 
sounding  the  golden  trumpet,  at  which  the  dead  arise. 
Their  lifeless  re-animating  forms,  half  lifted  from  the  grave, 
are  so  finely  designed,  that,  unnatural  as  is  the  subject,  they 
seem  to  come  to  life  before  your  eyes.  Others,  disencum- 
bered of  their  mortal  clay,  are  ascending  into  heaven,  and 
angels,  stooping  from  the  clouds,  are  assisting  them  to  rise 
into  light  and  glory. 

Tke  grand  and  prominent  figure  of  the  Judge  and  £e- 
deemer  of  the  world,  instantly  strikes  the  eye,  serves  as  the 
dividing  point  of  the  picture,  and  gives  to  the  composition 
fdeamess,  grandeur,  and  efiect.  Above  his  head,  the  fleet- 
ing forms  of  angels  are  seen  bearing  the  symbols  of  his 
passion.  St.  Bartholomew,  below,  olers  up  his  skin,  the 
symbol  of  his  martyrdom ;  and  the  figures  of  some  other 
paints  are  done  with  a  force  and  grandeur  of  design  truly 
wondeifril.    But  I  have  a  particular  objection  to  some  of 


Digitized  by 


Google 


42  soiOB. 

the  female  samts.  St.  Catherine  of  Siena,  in  a  green  sown, 
and  somebody  elae  in  a  blue  one,  are  aupremelr  hideous. 
It  seems  that  one  of  the  popes — ^I  believe  Paul  lY. — in  an 
unfortunate  fit  of  prudery,  was  seized  with  the  resolution  of 
whitewashing  over  the  wnole  of  the  Last  Judgment,  in  order 
to  cover  the  scandal  of  a  few  naked  female  figures,  in  the 
grandest  painting  in  the  world !  With  difficulty  his  Holiness 
was  at  last  prevented  fix>m  utterly  destroying  this  unrivalled 
composition,  but  he  could  not  he  dissuaded  from  ordering 
these  poor  women  to  be  cbthed  in  these  unbecoming  pet- 
ticoats. Daniel  da  Yolterra,  whom  he  employed  in  this 
office,  received,  in  consequence,  tiie  name  of  "II  Braghet- 
tone." 

On  the  whole,  I  think  the  Last  Judgment  is  now  more 
valuable  as  a  school  of  design,  than  as  a  fine  painting,  and 
that  it  will  be  more  sought  for  the  study  of  the  artist,  than 
the  delight  of  the  amateur.  BeautiM  it  is  not — ^but  it  is 
sublime; — sublime  in  conception,  and  astonishing  in  exe- 
cution. Still,  I  believe,  there  are  few  who  do  not  feel  that 
it  is  a  labour  rather  than  a  pleasure  to  look  at  it.  Its 
blackened  sur&ce— its  dark  and  dingy  sameness  of  coburinff 
—-the  obscuriiy  which  hangs  over  it— the  confusion  and 
multitude  of  nifiked  figures  which  compose  it,  (to  say  no- 
thing of  the  grossness  of  such  a  display)-— their  unnatoraL 
position,  suspended  in  the  air,  and  the  sameness  of  form, 
attitude,  and  oolouriuff,  confound  and  bewilder  the  senses. 
These  were,  perhaps,  defects  inseparable  fix>m  the  subject, 
although  it  was  one  admirably  calculated  to  call  forth  the 
powers  of  Michael  Angelo.  He  has,  indeed,  here  shown 
himself  master  of  the  grand  and  the  terrible ;  and  the  learn- 
ing, the  science,  the  perfection  of  desi^  the  vigour  of 
genius,  and  the  grandeur  of  thought,  this  sublime  compo- 
sition evinces,  must  be  admired  by  all  who  are  capable  of 
estimating  them. 

To  merit  in  colouring  it  has  confessedly  no  pretensioiu^ 
and  I  may  venture  to  say,  that  I  think  it  also  deficient  in 
expression — ^that  in  the  conflicting  passions,  hopes,  fears, 
remorse,  despair,  and  transport,  that  must  agitate  the  breasts 
of  so  many  thousands  in  that  awM  moment,  there  was  room 
for  powerful  expressioui  which  we  see  not  here.    But  it  is 


Digitized  by 


Google 


THX  BIflTCT  COASVL.  48 

&ded  and  defiaoed;  the  touclieB  of  immoital  genius  aie  lost 
for  ever;  and  from  what  it  is,  we  can  form  but  a  &int  idea 
of  what  it  was.  Its  defects  daQj  become  more  gburing— 4t8 
beauties  vanish;  and,  could  the  spirit  of  its  ^eat  author 
behold  the  mighty  work  upon  which  he  spent  the  unre- 
mitting labour  of  seyen  years,  with  what  gnef  and  mortifi- 
cation would  he  ^e  upon  it  now ! 

It  may  be  fanciful,  but  it  seems  to  me  that  in  this,  and  in 
every  other  of  Michael  Angelo's  works,  you  may  see  that 
the  ideas,  beauties,  and  peculiar  excellencies  of  statuary, 
were  ever  present  to  his  mind ;  that  they  are  the  concep- 
tions of  a  sculptor  embodied  in  painting. 

Michael  Angelo,  indeed,  deserres  our  highest  veneraticm 
for  the  just  principles  which  he  rescued  mm  oblivion,  for 
the  emancipation  nrom  GK)thic  barbarism,  and  for  the  total 
and  happy  reformation  he  effected  in  art,  by  introducing  the 
study  of  the  antique,  of  ideal  beauty,  and  of  nature,  m  all 
their  truth,  simpncity,  and  grace.  He  was  the  reviver  of 
true  taste,  and  jdaj  be  called  the  author  of  all  the  excellence 
we  have  since  enjoyed — ^the  master  of  successive  genera- 
tions ;  but,  perhaps,  at  least  as  far  as  painting  goes,  he  is 
rather  to  be  admired  for  the  excellence  he  has  caused  in 
others,  than  for  his  own. 

In  &ct,  he  always  painted  unwillinglv,  and  few  of  his 
works  remain.  The  Sistine  Chapel  may  be  said  to  contain 
them  all.  The  frescos  of  the  roof  were  painted  before  the 
lidst  Judgment,  aiid,  though  less  £Eimed,  are,  in  my  poor 
opinion,  &r  superior,  more  especially  the  noble  figures  of 
the  Sibyls  and  Prophets,  round  the  frieze,  which  have  a 
grandeur  and  subhinity  that  painting  has  rarely  equalled. 
These  are  in  fSEir  better  preservation  than  the  last  Judgment ; 
so  also  are  the  nine  Jdmonic  pictures,  which  adorn  the  roof 
— ^representing  the  figure  of  uie  Etenaal  Father,  calling  the 
world  out  of  chaos — ^the  Creation  of  man,  and  of  woman — 
their  bliss  in  Paradise — and,  above  all,  the  last  beautiful 
picture  of  their  expulsion  from  those  blessed  seats.  But  it 
would  be  vain,  by  description,  to  attempt  to  give  you  any 
idea  of  the  perfection  of  these  great  master-pieces  of  paint- 
ing. I  will  therefore  refrain,  even  from  the  expression  of 
admizatiany  and  the  dear  delight  of  criticism. 


Digitized  by 


Google 


M  BOKK. 

These,  then,  are  all  that  lemain  of  the  painter — ^Michael 
Aiigelo— 

"  quel  ch'^  per  Bculpe  e  colors 

Michel,  pitL  che  mortal,  Angel  divino  !"* 

for  we  are  told  that  he  never  painted  more  than  one  piece 
in  oils,t  which  is  in  the  gallery  at  Florence.  But  many  of 
his  designs,  some  of  wmch  may  be  classed  amongst  the 
grandest  compositions  in  the  world,  were  executed  by  Sebas- 
tian del  Piombo,  Marcello  Venusti,J  and  others. 

In  the  Paolina  Chapel,  indeed,  there  are — or  rather  were 
— some  of  his  frescos ;  but  they  are  so  thoroughly  blackened 
with  the  smoke  of  the  thousand  tapers  that  bum  before  the 
Sepulchre  of  our  Saviour  in  Passion  "Week,  that  they  are  all 
but  totally  obliterated. 

Besides,  the  dungeon  darkness  that  reigns  in  this  chapel, 
even  on  the  brightest  summer's  day,  renders  it  absolutely 
impossible  to  see  them.  As  well  as  I  could  guess  at  them, 
under  such  circumstances,  they  must  have  been  grand  com- 
positions. The  subjects  are  the  Conversion  of  St.  Paul,  and 
the  Crucifixion  of  St.  Peter — ^both  admirably  suited  to  his 
powers. 

It  is  cruel  to  see  works  such  as  these,  the  sole  remains  of 
the  Father  of  Painting,  which  might  serve  for  the  instruc- 
tion and  admiration  of  future  generations,  not  only  aban- 
doned to  neglect  and  decay,  but  mercilessly,  and  one  would 
think,  sedulously    destroyed.    But  it    is    no    use    to    be 

e  Sala  Borgia,  the  ante-hall  to  the  Sistrna  and  Paolina 

♦  Arioflto,  Canto  83.  t  Vide  Vaaari. 

X  Marcello  Yenusti,  of  whose  works  I  have  seen  little  in  England, 
wajs  a  native  of  Mantua>  and,  when  a  boy,  only  a  colour-grinder  to 
Perrin  del  Vaga,  but  his  genius  forced  its  way,  in  spite  of  all  his 
master's  efibrts  to  depress  it.  He  found  a  protector  in  Michael  Angelo, 
and,  by  copying  his  designs,  and  receiving  his  instructions,  caught  so 
much  of  his  spirit,  as  well  as  that  of  Baphael'^  whose  works  he  inces- 
santly studied,  that  he  is  thought,  by  many  critics,  to  have  united  much 
of  the  peculiar  excellencies  of  both  masters.  Perrin  del  Yaga,  the 
envious  master  of  Marcello  Yenusti,  was  by  far  the  most  successful  of 
Saphaers  pupils  in  copying  and  imitating  his  works,  although  decidedly 
deficient  to  Giulio  Bomano  in  original  genius. 


y  Google 


THE  SISTHnB  CHAPEL.  45 

Chapels,  is  painted  with  frescos,  more  remarkahle  for  their 
subject  than  execution.  They  represent  the  Massacre  of 
St.  Bartholomew's  Day,  thus  commemorated  on  papal  wfdls, 
and  by  papal  command,  as  a  meritorious  action !  Times  are 
changed.  JN'o  Pope,  I  imagine,  would  venture  now  to  give 
openly  a  sanction  of  approval  to  such  a  deed ;  nor,  in  feet, 
could  any  human  being,  I  should  hope,  be  found  capable 
of  planning  or  of  .perpetrating  it.  These  are  the  days  of 
pohtical  rather  than  of  religious  fenaticism.*  ^ 

*  Such  was  the  case  in  1820,  when  these  letters  were  first  pnhlished. 
But  a  lamentable  change  has  sioise  taken  place — a  retrograde  movement 
in  society,  which  may  be  dated  from  the  "  Emancipation  **  of  the 
Boman  Catholics.  The  mask  has  been  at  length  thrown  off;  the  spirit 
of  bigotry  and  insolence  has  now  manifested  itself,  and  avowedly  wants 
but  the  power  to  renew  persecution  in  its  most  unrelenting  form.  See 
the  recent  charges,  manifestoes,  letters,  &c.,  of  the  soi-diaaiU  Boman 
Catholic  Primate  of  Ireland,  and  other  heads  of  that  church. 


Digitized  by 


Google 


46  SOICB. 


LETTER  LVI. 
The  Cahsbb  ot  "Raphato. 

Ttbisk  there  is  a  character  in  Eaphael  which  Buonarotti 
wants — a  truth  of  expression,  a  soul-touching  beauty,  a 
sentiment,  a  majesty,  wliich  none  but  Baj)hael  ever  so  emi- 
nently possessed,  but  which  Buonarotti  strikes  me  as  being 
peculiarly  deficient  in. — We  turn  firom  his  works  with  our 
understanding  satisfied  and  inslsructed,  but  our  soul  un- 
moved. They  only  address  themselves  to  the  head,  but  Ba- 
Ehael's  touch  the  heart.  The  folrmer  will  only  be  admired 
y  the  learned,  the  latter  will  be  felt  by  all. 
It  ought  not  to  be  forgotten,  in  estimating  the  perform- 
ances of  these  two  great  men,  that  Michael  Angelo  lived 
more  than  two  lifetimes  of  Eaphael.  "What  Eaphael  would 
have  been,  had  he  not  been  cut  off  in  the  very  day-spring 
of  his  genius,  we  may  with  sorrow  estimate,  from  the  works 
which  even  at  sii-and-thrrty  he  left  to  the  world*  He  might 
be  inferior  to  Buonarotti  in  learning — ^he  might  owe  to  hia 
more  advanced  studies  much  of  Ms  grandeur  of  style — ^but 
he  drew  his  perfection  from  himself.  In  the  noble  air  of 
his  heads,  and  the  grand  flow  of  his  draperies,  he  is  con- 
fessedly unrivalled — and  in  that  touching  beauty  of  expres- 
sion— ^m  that  power  which  speaks  from  his  works  to  the 
understanding  and  the  heart — ^neither  Buonarotti  nor  any 
human  being  ever  approached  him. 

It  is  years  since  I  saw  the  Cartoons,  and  still  they  are 
present  to  me.  Even  while  I  write,  the  image  of  Paul 
preaching  at  Athens,  and  that  sublime  head  of  Saint  John 
m  the  death  of  Ananias,  return  upon  my  remembrance. 
"What  sentiment! — What  soul! — "What  holiness! — ^What 
beauty !  What  must  have  been  the  mind  of  him  who  con- 
ceived, it ;  and  what  an  ineffaceable  impression  does  it  leave 
upon  the  heart  I 


Digitized  by 


Google 


Digitized  by 


Google 


p 

11.,-: 


n 


Digitized  by 


Google 


bafhail'b  camebe.  47 

To  how  few  has  been  given  that  wondrons  faculty  of 
breathing  into  their  works  more  than  human  beauty,  sub- 
limity, and  grace — ^the  power  of  surpassing  nature,  without 
departing  from  her  laws,  and  creatmg  by  the  conceptions 
of  their  own  exalted  minds,  forms  of  nnunagined  thvnkmg 
beauty! 

On  Baphael,  and  on  the  unknown  author  of  the  Apollo, 
this  precious  g^  was  bestowed ;  and  the  admiration  of  suo- 
cessiye  generations,  the  fruitless  imitation  of  artists  of  every 
age  and  country,  have  made  us  feel  '*  we  shall  never  look 
upon  their  like  agaiu !" 

One  can  never  sufficiently  regret  that  Eaphael  was  tied 
dovm  so  continually  to  the  sameness  and  senseless  repe- 
tition of  Madonnas  and  Holy  Faniilies.  He  knew,  indeed, 
how  to  vary  them — ^to  give  them  that  unparalleled  grace, 
that  tenderness  of  expression,  and  that  soul-affecting  beauty 
and  divinity,  which  make  us  gaze  upon  them  for  ever  with 
unsatiated  delight.  Still,  if  there  be  any  feebleness  of 
design  in  his  works,  it  is  in  such  as  these,  feut  it  is  in  his 
great  historical  compositions,  in  the  sublimity  of  the  Trans- 
figuration, the  matcnless  Cartoons,  and,  more  than  all,  the 
immortal  frescos  of  the  Camere,  that  we  feel  in  all  their 
force  his  transcendaut  powers ;  and  these  imperishable  me- 
morials will  for  ever  consecrate  his  name. 
.  Imperishable,  did  I  sav?  Alas !  while  we  gaze  upon  the 
mouldering  frescos  of  the  Camere,  how  do  we  mourn  over 
the  decay  of  works  such  as  the  world  can  see  no  more ! 

All  that  brutal  injury,  culpable  neglect,  and  still  more 
culpable  restoration,  could  do  to  accelerate  their  destruction, 
has  been  added  to  the  slow  attacks  of  time.  Scarcely  ten 
years  after  they  were  painted,  when  Eome  was  taken  by 
assault;*  the  hcentious  soldiers  lived  in  these  chambers, 
lighted  their  fires,  in  default  of  chimneys,  on  the  stone 
floors,  blackening  the  paintings  with  smoke,  (which  is  far 
more  destructive  to  frescos  than  to  oil  paiatiags,)  and  even 
wantonly  iojured  and  defaced  many  of  the  finest  heads. 
These,  Sebastian  del  Piombo  was  employed  to  restore; 
though  a  capital  colourist,  his  powers  were  by  no  means 
equal  to  the  task,  and  he  executed  it  so  ill,  that  Titian, 
*  A.D.  1628. 


Digitized  by 


Google 


48  Boia. 

who  afterwards  visited  these  chambers  with  him,  pur- 
posely asked  him,  if  he  knew  who  was  the  presmnptuous 
and  Ignorant  blockhead  that  had  daubed  over  these  noble 
heads?* 

But  the  injuries  that  would  have  wholly  mined  any  other 
paintings,  have  scarcely^  thrown  a  doud  over  these;  and 
while  the  faintest  outbne  remains,  they  must  retain  their 
pre-eminent  superiority.  But  that  superiority,  in  their 
present  state,  is  by  no  means  striking  at  the  nrat  fflance. 
After  all  your  nigh-raised  expectations,  you  will  walk 
through  a  set  of  cdld,  square,  gloomy,  un^irnished  rooms, 
with  some  old,  obscure,  faded  figures  painted  on  the  walls ; 
and  these  are  the  Camere  of  JSaphael  ?  You  will  inquire, 
UH  est  Baphael?  Your  disappointment  will  have  no 
bounds.  But  have  patience — suspend  your  judgment — 
learn  to  look  on  them — and  every  fresh  exammation  will 
reward  you  with  the  perception  of  new  beauties,  and  a 
hi^er  sense  of  their  exoellence.f 

Every  inch  of  the  walls,  from  the  ceiling  to  the  floor,  and 
the  whole  of  the  roofs,  are  covered  with  paintings.  They^ 
are  not,  however,  all  done  by  his  own  hand — ^many  of  them, 
either  entirely  or  in  part,  were  executed  by  his  principal 
pupils,  under  his  eye,  and  from  his  designs.  Such  a  niunber 
and  variety,  it  may  be  supposed,  are  marked  by  varying 
de^ee  of  excellence;  but  Jbtaphaers  success  seems  to  me 
tol)e  always  in  exact  proportion  to  the  grandeur,  the  inte- 
rest, and  the  difficulty  of  the  subject. 

By  far  the  finest  of  these  pieces,  in  my  humble  opinion, 
are  the  Burning  of  the  Borgo  San  Spirito,  the  Liberation 
of  St.  Peter  from  Prison,  and  the  School  of  Athens.  In 
the  first,  which  covers  the  whole  side  of  a  room,  is  repre- 
sented the  conflagration  of  a  part  of  Bome,  adjoining  the 
Vatican,  which  happened  in  the  pontificate  of  Leo  IV. 

The  <Hstraction  of  the  mothers,  and  the  poor  little  naked 

*  "  Che  fofise  quel  presantuoeo  ed  ignorante,  che  aveva  embrattati 
que'  volti  V*— Lanzi,  Storia  Pittorica. 

t  Such  is  the  gloominefls  of  these  chambers,  and  the  obscurity  of  the 
paintings,  that  they  never  ought  to  be  visited  except  early  on  a  bright 
clear  day.  £yen  before  tiro  o'clock  in  winter,  the  light  is  lost  for 
them. 


Digitized  by 


Google 


BAPHASL*B  CAHBHS.  40 

clifldten  clingmg  to  them ;  the  red  raging  of  the  flames  on 
the  one  hand,  the  terrified  groups  on  the  other— among 
which,  the  people,  like  true  Italians,  instead  of  taking 
measures  to  extmguish  the  fire,  are  falling  on  their  knees 
to  implore  the  meduktion  of  the  Pope,  who  appears,  sur- 
rcmnded  with  priests,  far  in  the  distance,  at  a  window  in 
the  palace,  making  the  sign  of  the  cross,  bj  which  the  flames 
miraculouslj  disappeared : — ^the  woman  with  the  bucket  of 
water — the  men  escaping  naked  over  the  wall — ^all  are  ad- 
mirable. 

The  most  strildng  group  is  a  family  escaping  from  the 
fire ;  under  which  fiaphaei  has  introduced  ibbieas,  bearing 
Ancfaises  on  his  shoulders,  and  leading  Ascanius  in  his 
hand,  while  Creusa  follows  at  a  little  oistance-^for  ''the 
pious  iEneas^* — ^both  in  the  poet's  and  the  painter's  repre- 
Bentation  of  that  event,  whilst  he  took  good  care  of  himself, 
his  ^Either,  and  son,  left  his  wife  to  shifb  for  herself. 

The  powerless  hanging  Hmbs,  and  the  helpless  feebleness 
of  the  old  man,  are  beautifuUy  represented. 

Every  subordinate  part  is  as  perfect  as  the  whole  of 
this  great  composition,  without  attracting  attention  imduly. 
The  very  pavement  of  the  street  is  inimitable. 

This  was  the  last,  and  perhaps  the  best  of  the  frescos 
painted  by  Baphael  himself.  The  ceiling  of  this  room  is 
painted  by  Pietro  Ferugino,  whose  works,  from  respect  to 
ais  master,  Baphael  refused  to  efl'ace. 
•  In  another  painting  in  the  same  room — ^the  Coronation 
of  Charlemagne  by  Leo  III.,  chieflv  executed  by  B4iphaers 
pupils,  I  was  much  struck  with  the  beauty  of  the  little 
page.  There  is  a  contrast,  too,  between  the  youth  and 
smiling  innocence  of  the  boy,  and  the  weight  of  cares  and 
woes  one  attaches  to  the  idea  of  the  crown  he  bears,  that 
perhaps  adds  to  its  effect.  The  head  of  one  of  the  bishops 
too — ^but  we  should  never  finish,  were  I  to  enumerate  the 
hundredth  part  of  the  beauties  that  delight  me  in  these 
frescos. 

The  head  of  Charlemagne  is  the  portrait  of  Francis  I.  of 
France,  and  that  of  Leo  III.  of  Leo  X. 

The  Justification  and  Purgation  by  oath  of  Charlemagne 
before  Pope  Leo  and  his  Cardinals,  over  the  window  in  this 

TOL.  n.  X 


Digitized  by 


Google 


M  Boia. 

duuuber,  and  the  Deecent  of  the  Sanoens  upon  Ostifl, 
aire  alao  painted  from  Baphael'a  deaignsy  by  his  p\ipila.  Not 
BO  tiie  School  of  Athena,  which  waa  evioeotly  the  work  of 
hia  own  handa.  I  cannot  find  worda  aofficient  to  apeak  m j 
adnuration  of  thia  wonderful  nerformance,  which  ia,  perhaps, 
the  fineat  picture  in  the  world,  and  one  of  the  greateat  and 
moat  pcxrfect  productiona  of  mind.  The  akill  of  the  com- 
poaition— the  art  with  which  fifly-two  figorea,  all  nearly  of 
equal  importance,  all  philoaophera,  all  in  the  aame  atyle  of 
dreaa,  are  arranged  in  one  piece,  without  monotony,  crowd- 
ing, or  confuaion — ^the  character  preaerved  in  each,  the  inte- 
reat  giyen  to  a  cold  achokatic  diacuaaion— no  praiae  can  do 
it  juatice,  and  without  aeeing  it  you  never  can  conceiye  its 
perfection. 

On  the  atepa  of  a  Ghrecian  portico,  atand  Ariatotle  and 
Plato  engaged  in  argoment,  and  each  holding  a  yolume  in 
hia  hand.  Their  diiMn^plea  are  ranged  around,  attentiyely 
liatoiine  to  them.  Beneath  ia  IHogeneB«-an  inimitable 
figure— ^iatleadj  extended  on  the  atepa.  On  the  left,  at  the 
top,  ia  Socratea,  eameatly  talking  to  young  Alcibiadea,  who 
listena  in  a  lingering  aort  of'  attitude,  aa  if  half  aubdued  by 
the  wiadom  of  the  aae^e— half  willing  to  tum  away  from  it ; 
acknowledging  inwardly  the  truth  of  hia  doctrinea— yet  still 
reaolyed  to  giye  the  reins  tQ  pleasure,  and  run  the  career 
of  gay  enjoyment.  I  know  not,  howeyer,  why  the  young 
Grecian  waa  not  made  more  handaome.  The  old  man 
beside  him,  with  a  cap  on,  listemng  to  Socratea,  ia  inimi- 
table. Another  looking  oyer  the  ahoulder  of  I^hagoraa, 
who  ia  wiitiug  hia  works,  ia,  if  poaaible,  atill  finer.  The 
figure,  in  deep  abatracted  thought,  leaning  on  his  elbow, 
with  a  pen  on  hia  hand;  Zoroaster  holding  a  globe ;  Archi- 
medes (which,  it  is  said,  ia  the  portrait  of  Baphaera  undo, 
Bramante,  the  architect,)  stooping  to  trace  a  geometrical 
figure,  with  compasaea,  on  a  alate  on  the  ground,  and  the 
mole  group  that  surrounda  him,  are  beyond  all  praise.  In 
the  comer  on  the  right,  the  figure  with  a  black  cap  ia  the 
portrait  of  Baphael  mmself,  and  that  beside  him,  of  Pietro 
Perugino.  Seyeral  other  figures  are  aaid  to  be  likeneaaes 
of  hia  contemporariea.  But  whateyer  were  the  featurea  ho 
copied,  he  has  giyen  them  that  rhnntiber  and -^ 


Digitized  by 


Google 


BAPHAXL*S  nESCOlfl.  81 

wbich'  exacdy  snited  his  subject,  togeUier  with  tbe  Terj 
truth  of  nature  itself. 

With  siief  do  I  say,  that  this  inestimable  work  has  suf- 
fered  still  more  than  the  rest,  and  I  even  fimcy  that  since 
I  first  saw  it,  now  nearly  two  years,  some  of  the  heads  are 
more  defaced. 

Opposite  is  the  Dispute  upon  the  Sacrament,  the  first 
of  these  frescos  which  Baphael  painted.  Surrounding  the 
altar  appear  the  four  Doctors  of  the  Soman  Church, 
attended  by  the  Apostles  and  Blessed  Saints,  in  hiffh  dis* 
pute^  and  above  their  heads  are  seen  in  air  the  Patheri 
the  Son,  and  Holy  Ghost, — with  the  Yirgin  Mary,  and  John 
the  Baptist. 

Above  the  window  in  this  room,  is  painted,  by  Baphael 
himself,  Apollo,  on  mount  Parnassus,  encircled  by  the 
Muses,  and  playing  on  the  violin — ^I  could  have  wished  it 
had  been  the  lyre,  especially  since  we  were  to  see,  not  to 
hear  it.  The  whole  group  is  beautiful,  and  the  figure  of 
Sappho,  reclining,  below,  peculiarlv  so.  Homer,  Virgil, 
Horace,  Ovid,  Dante,  and  many  other  great  poets,  appear 
in  t'he  sacred  choir.  I  had  repeatedly  passed  many  hours 
in  gazing  at  the  walls  in  this  room,  before  I  thought  of 
looking  at  the  ceiling,  which  is  painted  by  Baphael  hunself. 
The  figures  of  Philosophy,  Poetry,  Theolocy,  and  Justice; 
and  the  pictures  of  Adam  and  Eve,  of  the  Judgment  of 
Solomon,  and  of  Marsyas  and  Apollo,  amply  repay  the 
fiktigue  of  contemplating  them,  which,  j&om  tneir  position 
and  obscurity,  is  not  small. 

The  ceiling  in  the  next  chamber  is  painted  in  chiaro 
oscuro  by  Baphael,  and  aU  the  four  paintings  on  the  walls 
are  executed  by  himself.  Th^  consist,  first,  of  the  Miracle 
of  Bolsena — in  which  the  Beal  Presence  appears  in  the 
eucharist,  for  the  conversion  of  the  unbelieving  priest,  who 
is  administering  the  sacrament,  and  who  looks  sufficiently 
scared  at  this  literal  manifestation  of  the  truth  of  tran* 
substantiation.  The  next  painting  represents  a  miracle  of 
somewhat  more  importance,  and  doubtless  of  equal  authen- 
ticity. It  is  the  meeting  of  Attik  and  his  victorious  army 
on  their  progress  to  Borne,  by  St.  Leo  L,  attended  by  his 
train  of  priests  on  the  earth,  and  by  the  Apostles  St.  Peter 

a  2 


Digitized  by 


Google 


n  BOIOL 

and  St.  Paul  in  the  sky,— «n  apparition  which  immediately 
frightened  all  the  Huns  back  again.  The  figure  of  Attihi 
is  Teiy  fine.  Pope  Leo  I.  is  the  portrait  of  Leo  X.,  who 
was  rope  when  tuis  fresco  was  painted. 

The  liberation  of  St.  Peter  from  prison  is  one  of  the 
finest  paintings  genius  ever  produced;  but  such  is  its 
wretched  situation,  immediately  above  the  great  gothic 
window  which  cuts  into  it,  that  its  effect  is,  in  a  great 
deme,  lost,  both  from  the  bad  light  and  the  uncouth 
awkwardness  of  its  form. 

This  wall  has  been  the  bed  of  Procrustes,  on  which  the  pro- 
ductions of  genius  have  been  stretched  out  or  compressed. 
As  it  is,  this  may  perhaps  be  considered  three  paintings, 
rather  than  one.  In  the  centre,  through  the  grated  window 
of  the  dungeon,  is  seen  St.  Peter  in  chains,  and  the  angel 
appearing  to  him,  and  commanding  him  to  rise.  The  tran- 
scendent glory  that  surrounds  the  head  of  the  celestial 
visitor,  forms  the  sole  light  of  the  piece.  Again,  on  the 
right,  at  the  prison  doors,  the  angel  appears  leading  forth 
the  apostle.  Their  figures,  in  both  repetitions,  are  won- 
derfully fine.  On  the  left,  (at  the  other  side  of  the  win- 
dow,) are  two  soldiers,  hasl^y  descending;  the  steps  leading 
from  the  dungeon,  in  consternation  and  alann ;  the  moon 
shining  bright  on  their  glittering  armour,  and  shielding" 
their  eyes  from  the  sudden  blinding  glare  of  the  torch  held 
by  their  comrade  at  the  foot  of  the  stair,  which  falls  full 
on  the  face  of  'another  soldier,  awakening  from  sleep — ad- 
mirably expressed !  But  vain  is  all  description — ^vain  would 
be  all-  imitation.  The  veiy  mechanism  of  this  wonderful 
picture — ^the  variety  of  lights,  the  moonlight  shining  on  the 
distant  coimtry,  and  on  tne  soldiers'  arms ;  the  torch  gleam- 
ing on  their  mces ;  and  the  two  celestial  lights  emanating 
from  the  presence  of  the  angel, — are  alone,  in  their  manage- 
ment and  effect,  a  prodigy  of  skill  and  sdence. 

We  now  turn  to  the  last  of  the  four  paintii^  in  this 
chamber,  the  Expulsion  of  Heliodorus  from  the  Temple  by 
Angels.  The  history  is  related  in  Maccabees.  When 
attempting  to  seize  "  the  money  laid  up  here  for  the  hther- 
less  and  widows,  an  apparition  appeared — a  horse  with  a 
terrible  rider,  adorned  with  a  very  mir  covering,  and  he  ran 


Digitized  by 


Google 


BAPHA£L*B  TBXSC0V8.  68 

fiercelj  and  smote  Heliodoms,  and  two  jounj^  men,  notable 
in  strength,  excellent  in  beauty,  and  comelj  in  apparel,  who 
flcourged  him  continually."  * 

Nothing  can  exceed  the  rushing  of  the  attack — ^the  rapi- 
dity of  the  onset — ^the  magic  that  makes  the  action  seem 
to  go  on  before  your  eyes. 

The  superhuman  force  and  actiyity  of  the  Tengeful  mes- 
sengers, strike  you  with  awe ;  but  there  is  no  exaggeration, 
no  violence,  no  overstraining.  Pope  Julius  II.  insisted 
upon  being  brought  into  this  scene,  though  it  happened 
at  least  eighteen  hundred  years  before  he  was  bom.  So 
Baphael  was  obliged  to  introduce  him,  and  he  appears  at 
the  comer,  borne  in  on  his  chair  of  state.  Baphael  nas  ceiv 
tainly  done  this  group,  (which,  of  itself,  is  a  masterpiece  of 
painting,)  the  honour  of  painting^  it  with  his  own  hand,  but 
I  doubt  the  executive  part  of  the  whole  of  the  rest  of  the 
picture  being  his,  though  it  is  generally  reputed  so. 

In  the  fourth  and  kst  chamiber,  none  of  the  paintings 
are  executed  b^  Baphael,  excepting  the  figures  of  Justice 
and  Mercy,  painted  in  oils  by  himself;  and,  according  to 
Bome  accounts,  the  last  works  of  his  hand.  That  grand 
painting,  the  battle  between  Constantino  and  Maxentius,  at 
the  Fonte  MoUe,  near  Bome,  designed  by  Baphael,  and 
painted  after  his  death  by  Giulio  Bomano,  is  worthy  alike 
of  the  master  and  the  scholar.  The  colouring,  indeed,  has 
the  faults  of  his  ^reat  pupil,^-too  much  of  that  red  hue, 
that  opaque  brickmess,  that  general  diffusion  of  lights,  and 
want  of  chiaro  oscuro,  that  we  see  in  his  works;  but  it 
is  given  with  all  his  characteristic  spirit  and  energy. 

In  this  grand  composition,  Bapnael  has  successfullv  tri- 
mnphed  over  all  tha  confessed  oifficulties  of  the  subject. 
It  has  all  the  action  and  hurry  and  movement  of  a  battle, 
without  the  smallest  confusion.  At  one  glance  you  see  the 
whole.  The  figure  of  Constantine,  riding  over  the  field  on 
his  milk-white  charger,  at  once  catches  your  eye.  Victory 
sits  on  his  crowned  and  lofby  front,  while  the  defeated 
usurper,  sinking  in  the  stream,  grappling,  in  his  last  con- 
vulsive agonies,  with  instinctive  desperation,  the  bridle  of 
*  II.  Msocabees,  chap.  iii. 


Digitized  by 


Google 


64  ROMl. 

his  spent  and  panting  steed,  forces  you,  shuddering,  to  gaze 
upon  its  horrors. 

In  this  room,  and  painted  also  by  Giulio  Bomano,  is  the 
apparition  of  the  Fiery  Cross  in  the  Heavens,  which  Con- 
stuitine  witnessed  previous  to  the  battle.  Though  excel- 
lent in  itself^  it  is  inferior  to  the  battle.  The  rest  of  the 
paintings  in  this  room  are  executed  bj  other  pupils  of 
Baphael,  from  his  designs ;  none,  excepting  the  comer  ngures 
of  the  eight  Popes,  being  by  Qiulio  Eomano.  The  roof  of 
iMa  chamber  was  painted  by  an  inferior  artist  many  yeara 
afterwards,  and  not  from  the  designs  of  Baphael. 

It  may  possibly  interest  you  to  know  the  order  in  which 
Baphael  painted  his  frescos.    It  was  as  foUows : — 

1.  The  Dispute  upon  the  Sacrament,  intended  to  exemplify 
Theology. 

2.  Jurisprudence, — exemplified  on  one  side  by  the  Em- 
peror Justmian,  who  receives  the  Code  of  Laws  from  Tre- 
Donian;  and  the  other  by  Gregory  IX.,  who  delivers  the 
Decretals  to  a  member  of  the  Consistory, — painted  above 
the  windows  of  the  same  Camera. 

8.  Mount  Parnassus,  with  Apollo  and  the  Muses,  repre- 


4.  The  School  of  Athens,  representing  Philosophy.  After 
finishing  this  great  work,  Baphael  painted  the  Prophet 
Isaiah,  in  the  Augustine  Church,  and  the  Sibyls  in  SK 
Maria  della  Pace.    He  then  painted, 

5.  The  Miracle  at  Bolsena,  of  the  Beal  Presence  in  the 
euchaiist. 

6.  Heliodorus  expelled  from  the  Temple  by  the  Angels. 
After  this,  he  painted  the  Cartoons  for  the  Flemish  Tapestry; 
seven  of  which  we  have  in  England.  Then  returning  to 
the  Yatican,  he  successively  executed, 

7.  The  Liberation  of  St.  Peter  fiK)m  prison  by  the  Angels. 

8.  Attila  arrested  in  his  progress  to  Bome  by  St.  Leo, 
with  the  apparition  of  St.  Peter  and  St.  Paul  in  the  sky. 

9.  The  Burning  of  the  Borgo  San  Spirito. 

I  have  passed  over  almost  without  notice,  many  of  the 
frescos,  which  I  have  spent  hours,  and  I  might  add  davs,  in 
studying  and  admixing,  from  the  wish  not  to  swell  this 


Digitized  by 


Google 


SAPHAEJi's  nxsooxfl.  U 

letter  with  vain  and  tedious  descriptions.  It  is  not  for  me 
to  attempt  to  praise  the  last  and  best  works  of  this  greatest 
of  painters.  Little  as,  perhaps,  I  am  able  to  estimate  all 
their  merit  and  science,  I  have  felt  their  perfection,  and 
drawn  from  their  study  a  delie;ht  which  words  can  never 
describe.  It  is  impossible,  indeed,  to  see  works  such  as 
these,  without  feeling  the  mind  enlarged,  and  conscious  of 
higher  ideas  of  beauty,  of  perfection,  of  moral  dignitjr  and 

gower.  That  I  have  seen  them — ^that  their  imsj^e  is  inde- 
bly  ez^graved  upon  my  mind — ^will  be,  through  life,  a  source 
of  unalienable  pleasure  to  me ;  nor  would  I  part  with  their 
veiy  remembrance,  for  much  that  this  world  could  bestow. 


Digitized  by 


Google 


86  Bom. 


LETTER  LVn. 

The  LoGana  ov  "Rapttaeti — The  FAnrrnros  nr  the 
Vjltioajbt. 

I  HATE  but  a  few  words  to  say  on  the  Loggie  of  Bapliael ; 
for,  besides  that  enough  has  already  been  said  and  written 
upon  them — ^that  they  are  decidedly  inferior  to  the  inimi- 
table frescos  of  the  Camere,  painted  at  a  much  earlier 
period,  and  for  the  most  part  executed  from  his  designs  by 
his  pupils — ^to  enter  into  them  at  all,  would  require  a 
minuteness  of  detail  that  would  be  perfectly  intolerable. 

The  first  story  consists  merely  oi  ornamental  paintings  of 
treillage,  shells,  flowers,  Ac.,  wmch  merit  little  notice.  The 
second  comprises  that  series  of  pictures,  from  the  creation 
of  the  world  to  the  crucifixion  of  our  Sayiour,  which  has 
sometimes  been  called  Eaphaers  Bible.  These  paintings 
are  on  a  very  small  scale.  Each  arcade,  or  hggiay  or  space 
between  two  piUars,  contains  four,  on  the  four  sides  of  its 
corered  roof. 

The  first  of  these,  which  represents  Gk)d  the  Father,  in 
the  void  of  chaos,  calling  forth  the  world  and  the  deep,  is 
unquestionably  the  woi^  of  EaphaeFs  own  hand,  and  is 
prodigiously  extolled  by  connoisseurs.  Michael  Angelo 
himself  must  have  been  struck  with  its  sublimity,  for  he 
exclaimed,  that  Baphael  could  never  have  painted  it  had  he 
not  seen  his  own  figure  of  the  Eternal  Eather  on  the  roof  of 
the  Sistine  Chapel,  from  which,  at  his  desire,  Baphael  had 
been  jealously  excluded.  No  one,  however,  butliis  rival, 
will  charge  Blaphael  with  this  petty  pilfering.  The  work  is 
his  own,  whatever  be  its  ments  or  defects.  Eor  my  own 
part,  I  confess,  that  I  do  not  see  in  this,  or  in  any  of  the 
paintings  of  the  Loggie^  that  greatness  of  style,  that  eleva- 
tion of  thought,  and  wondrous  beauty  of  expression,  that 
characterise  ma  later  and  better  works ;  nay,  more,  that  this 


Digitized  by 


Google 


]UFHAXL*B  nSSOOBB.  57 

%iire  of  the  Supreme  Being,  sprawling  about,  with  his  anns 
and  legs  extended  in  evei^  opposite  direction,  so  &r  from 
striking  me  with  its  sublimity,  was  so  inexpressibly  shocking 
to  me,  that  I  turned  from  it  with  disgust. 

The  quadruple  image  of  the  Almighty  fills  the  four  com- 
partments of  this  first  Loggia,  In  one  of  these,  painted  by 
&iulio  Somano,  he  is  represented  with  the  sun  iu  one  hand 
and  the  moon  in  the  other,  kicking  the  earth  to  its  place 
with  his  feet. 

Not  even  Baphaers  pencil  can  reconcile  me  to  any  repre- 
sentation of  the  Deity.  Numa  forbade  the  Bomans  to  re- 
present the  Divinity  under  a  human  form.  It  would  have 
Deen  well  had  Christians  obserred  the  same  respect. 

The  Baptism  of  Christ,  which  is,  I  believe,  almost  the 
only  other  picture  of  the  Loggie  executed  by  the  hand  of 
Baphael  himself,  I  admired  the  most  of  any.  But  the 
examination  of  them  is  so  peculiarly  fatiguing,  from  their 
number,  and  from  ttie  position  into  which  it  throws  the 
head,  that  I  have  not  studied  them  with  the  attention  they 
deserve.  On  the  whole,  however,  good  engravings  will  give 
give  you  a  far  better  idea  of  the  Loggie,  than  of  most  paint- 
mgs,  for  their  chief  merit  consists  m  their  design  and  com- 
position; the  colouring  is  now  much  iujured  by  time  and 
exposure  to  the  atmosphere. 

The  gidleiT  of  oil  paintinc^s  in  the  Vatican,  in  the  Bor- 
ghese  Chambers,  contains  the  two  finest  pictures  in  the 
world — The  Transfiguration  of  Baphael,  and  the  Conmiu- 
nion  of  St.  Jerome  of  Domenichino.  It  is  the  fashion,  I 
believe,  in  consequence  of  Madame  de  StaeFs  conunendation, 
to  give  the  preference  to  the  latter.  The  fact  is,  that 
Baphael  is  the  first,  and  Domenichino  the  second,  painter 
in  the  world — and  these  are  their  master-pieces.  But  we 
must  not  estimate  the  merits  of  the  masters  from  these 
works.  The  Conmiunion  of  St.  Jerome  equals,  if  not  sur- 
passes, any  of  Domenichino's  frescos : — the  Transfiguration 
does  not  approach  to  those  of  BaphaeL  The  Transfigu- 
ration, too,  has  suffered  more  from  tmie,  injuiy,  and,  above 
all,  restoration,  and  it  is  only  to  the  eye  that  has  the  true 
feeling  for  the  highest  species  of  perfection,  that  its  supe- 
riority will  be  manifest.    The  beauties  of  the.  Communion, 


Digitized  by 


Google 


68  Bon. 

whicli  is  in  far  finer  preservation,  are  mncli  more  palpable^— 
the  action  is  one,  simple  and  clear — and  it  is  consequently  as 
much  admired  at  the  first  si^ht  as  the  last.  But  the  Trans- 
figuration will  be  far  more  admired  the  hundredth  time  than 
the  first.  It  is,  besides,  infinitely  more  difficult.  Many 
painters  might  have  made  a  fine  Communion  of  St.  Jerome, 
but  who  but  Baphael  could  have  painted  the  Transfigu- 
ration! 

The  glorified — ^the  super-human  figure  of  our  Saviour 
transfigured  in  the  clouds,  is  an  attempt  the  most  difficult, 
I  had  almost  said  presumptuous,  that  was  ever  made  in 
painting — and,  at  the  same  time,  perhaps  the  most  suc- 
cessful. It  is,  indeed,  the  triumph  of  gemus.  I  have  neva* 
seen  it  without  the  vain  wish  that  it  could  be  divested  of 
Moses  and  Elisha,  on  each  side;  but  the  truth  of  gospel 
histoiy  condemned  Baphael  to  this.  Look  at  the  Trans- 
figuration of  our  Saviour  alone,  without  these  accompanyiag 
prophets,  and  you  will  better  judge  of  its  wondeiiul  per- 
fection. 

It  is  somewhat  strange  to  see  the  whole  picture  of  the 
Transfiguration — including  the  three  apostles,  prostrate  on 
the  mount,  shading  their  dazzled  senses  from  the  insuffer- 
able brightness — occupying  only  a  small  part  of  the  top  of 
the  canvas — and  the  principal  field  filled  with  a  totallv  dis- 
tinct, and  certainly  imequalled,  picture — ^that  of  the  demo- 
niac boy,  whom  our  Saviour  cured  on  coming  down  from 
the  moimt,  after  his  transfiguration.  This  was  done  in 
compliance  with  the  orders  of  the  monks  of  St.  Pietro  in 
Montorio,  for  whose  church  it  was  painted.  It  was  the 
universal  custom  of  the  age — ^the  yet  unbanished  taste  of 
Gbthic  days — ^to  have  two  pictures,  a  celestial  and  a  ter- 
restrial one,  wholly  unconnected  with  each  other;  accord- 
ingly we  see  few,  even  of  the  finest  paintings,  in  which  there 
is  not  a  heavenly  subject  above  and  an  eartmy  one  below — ^for 
the  great  masters  of  that  day,  like  our  ovni  Shakspeare, 
were  compelled  to  suit  their  works  to  the  taste  of^their 
employers. 

Bomenichino  lived  in  an  age  which  had  shaken  off  many 
barbarisms — ^his  angels  are  connected  with  the  picture,  and 
look  down  upon  the  dying  saint,  whose  &iling,  trembling 


Digitized  by 


Google 


LOGGH  OT  THX  TATICAir.  W 

limbs  are  Bupported,  kneeling,  in  life's  last  moments,  to 
receiye  the  cup  of  Christ — ^with  looks  of  sndi  holy  loye  and 
rapture,  that  we  could  not  wish  them  away.  I  do  not  think 
the  Communion  of  St.  Jerome  equal  to  tne  Transfiguration 
— it  is  a  work  of  less  science,  less  difficulty,  less  complica- 
tion, and  less  power;  but  I  do  think  it  the  second  painting 
in  the  world,  and  perhaps  the  Murder  of  Peter  the  Martyr 
is  the  third.* 

Certainly,  the  unriTalled  superiority  of  the  great  masters 
of  art  cannot  with  justice  be  ascribed  to  the  patronage  they 
met  with.  Domenichino  received  fiftjf  Boman  crowns-— 
about  twelve  ^[uineas — for  his  Commumon  of  St.  Jerome ! 

The  cokmrmg  of  that  great  masterpiece,  the  Madonna 
del  Eoligno,  in  this  collection,  is  the  finest,  perhaps  because 
the  least  imured,  of  Baphaers  works.  It  may  vie  with 
Titian.  It  has  suffered  in  some  deeree  from  Erench  resto- 
ration, but  nothing  compared  with  the  Transfiguration. 

Guide's  Fortune,  one  of  his  beautiAil  poetical  thoughts, 
is  enchanting.  You  long  to  detain  her,  but  it  is  vain.  She 
eludes  your  grasp,  and  poor  little  Cupid,  who  is  pursuing 
her  through  the  ambient  air,  you  see  will  be  left  in  the 
lurch.  A  sentimentalist  might  say,  that  Love  seldom  lays 
hold  of  Fortune.  But  what  shall  we  say  to  Love  pursuing 
Fortune  so  eagerly  ?  That  it  is  in  life  as  in  the  picture ! 
I  have  seen  some  duplicates,  and  many  copies  of  this  beau- 
tiful work,  in  various  parts  of  the  world,  but  this  is  by  far 
the  finest. 

Andrea  Sacchi's  Dream  of  St.  Bruno,  is  his  masterpiece. 

This  saint,  the  founder  of  the  Carthusian  Order,  had,  it 
seems,  a  dream,  in  which  he  saw  a  number  of  monks,  in 
long  white  fiannel  gowns,  eo  up  the  steeps  of  the  Apen- 
nines ;  in  consequence  of  which  the  order  was  founded,  and 
Certo9a  convents  built  all  over  Italy;  and  as  painters  in 
those  days  had  no  choice  as  to  their  subjects,  and  were 
obliged  to  paint  what  piety  rather  than  taste,  dictated— 
Andbr^^  was  ordered  to  paint  this  dream.  There  could  not 
well  be  a  more  unpromising  subject;  and  it  is  wonderful, 
that  with  all  its  disadvantages, — ^the  want  of  action  or 

•  The  masterpiece  of  Titian,  at  Yeaioe. 


Digitized  by 


Google 


80  BOKIt. 

interest,  the  unifonn  wHte  figures,  db^ssed  in  garments  of 
the  same  hue  and  form,  and  ranged  in  a  long  row, — he  could 
produce  such  a  capital  picture  as  this. 

Ghiercino's  Santa  Fetronilla*  is  a  work  of  mat  power 
and  science,  and  is  justly  considered  one  of  the  first  master- 
pieces of  this  great  artist.  His  Incredulity  of  St.  Thomas 
IS  very  fine,  and  has  all  the  breadth  and  force  of  effect, 
without  exaggeration,  for  which  his  works  are  so  conspi* 
cuous.  His  models  are  said  to  have  been  the  heads  of 
peasants ;  but,  at  least,  there  is  nothing  low  or  ignoble  in 
them.  In  Caravaggio  we  see  both.  We  may  turn  to  his 
Deposition  from  the  Cross,  fine  as  it  is,  in  proof  of  it.  He 
never  painted  anything  without  vulgarity — ^nor  yet  anything 
without  forcing  us  to  admire  it. 

Titian's  Martyrdom  of  St.  Sebastian  has  been  quite  as 
much  commended  as  it  deserves.  The  colouring;  of  the 
saint,  indeed,  is  beyond  all  praise.  It  lives  and  breathes. 
But  this  very  animation  disunites  it  from  the  rest.  It 
seems  a  real  figure  amon?  painted  ones.  It  attracts  the 
eye  entirely  to  itself,  and  by  no  means  pleases  it ;  for  it  is 
m  drawn — absolutely  mis-shapen.  His  model  has  been 
bad,  and  he  has  copied  it  as  closely  in  the  form  as  in  the 
colouring.  The  expression  of  St.  Catherine  is  fine ;  but,  on 
the  whote,  the  composition  is  but  poor. 

Barocci's  Annunciation  is  esteemed  his  capo  d'opera.  In 
my  humble  opinion,  he  never  produced  any  capo  d'opera 
at  aU.  I  have  never  been  able  to  admire  sufficiently  the 
peach-blossom  colouring  of  this  most  affected  and  maniere 
painter;  but  the  generality  of  connoisseurs  call  it  very 
fine. 

I  have  passed  over  the  most  part  of  the  paintings  at  the 
Vatican.  Though  not  very  numerous,  they  are  all  very 
fine,  with  not  more  than  one  or  two  exceptions.  But  1 
know  how  tiresome  all  descriptions  of  paintings  are,  and 
how  often  these  have  been  described;  and,  therefore,  I 
abstain  even  from  mentioning  them. 

I  could  wish  they  were  in  better  lighted  rooms,  and 

*  After  these  Letters  were  written,  this  admirable  painting  was  i^ 
moved  to  the  Mufleum  of  the  Capitol,  and  placed  in  a  much  better 
light  and  situation. 


Digitized  by 


Google 


TATICAJT  ICUSBinC.  01 

Bhonld  not  be  sony  tliat  they  had  frames;  but  chiefly,  I 
wish  that  the  whole  tribe  of  copyists,  with  all  their  lumber, 
was  kicked  out.  Both  here,  ana  in  the  Camere  of  Baphael, 
their  huge  pictures  and  sca^olds  block  up  one's  view  of  the 
originals.  Copying  is  an  unfailing  trade  at  Bome.  Num- 
bers Hve  upon  Saphael  alone ;  and  it  is  amazing  how  well 
these  gentlemen  often  seem  to  be  satisfied  with  their  own 
works.  ^*^  Non  e  eattivay**  (which,  in  Italian  acceptation, 
means  very  good  indeed,)  observed  one,  after  comparing  his 
own  daub  with  the  Transfiguration.  Another  subscribed 
to  the  compliment  of  a  judicious  friend,  that  his  copy  from 
one  of  the  frescos  was  tale  quale  with  the  original.  And 
3ret  it  was* an  artist  of  rather  more  fame,  who,  in  former 
times,  after  repeated  attempts  to  copy  one  head  from  the 
School  of  Athens,  threw  away  his  pencil  in  despair,  declar- 
ing it  was  impossible. 

I  am  now,  once  more,  at  the  very  entrance  of  the  noble 
galleries  and  halls,  which  form  the  Vatican  Museum  of 
Sculpture — ^and  yet  I  must  not  enter  it.  *Tis  true,  I  have 
^ven  you  only  a  hasty  and  imperfect  sketch  of  my  first 
visit  to  the  pmce  where  I  have  spent  so  many  dehghtful 
hours,  or  rather  days ;  but  to  describe  it  at  all,  1  must  write 
volumes,  and  I  therdbre  forbear.  Nor  will  I  say  anything 
of  our  visit  to  it  by  torchlight,  except  that  the  masterpieces 
of  sculpture,  in  general,  certainly  appeared  to  far  greater 
advantage,  and  the  inferior  ones  to  less.  You  cannot  be 
said  to  see  the  Torso  at  all,  if  you  only.view  it  by  day-light. 
Much  depends  upon  the  manner  in  which  the  torch  is  held. 
In  some  lights  even  the  Laocoon  looked  ill,  though,  in  the 
proper  situation,  it  was  beyond  expression  fine.  The  Apollo 
requires  to  have  the  torch  held  behind  it. 

Nobody  ever  goes  to  see  the  Museum  of  the  Capitol  by 
torch-light,  though  everybody  makes  a  point  of  visiting  the 
Vatican;  and  yet,  I  daresay,  the  Dymg  Gladiator  would 
have  as  fine  an  effect,  tried  by  this  test  of  sculpture,  as  the 
Apollo  and  the  Laocoon.  But  I  believe  I  have  never  given 
you  any  account  of  the  noble  Museum  of  the  Capitol  at  all. 
I  will,  therefore,  do  it  in  my  next  letter.  Pew  cities  can 
boast  even  of  one  fine  museum  of  sculpture;  but  Bome 
has  three— the  Vatican,  the  Capitol,  and  the  Villa  Albani. 


Digitized  by 


Google 


AS  BOMJE. 


LETTEELTin. 
MirsEUH  OP  THE  Capitol. 

A  siTGOEssioK  of  profound  criticB,  among  whom  is  the 
celebrated  Winkelman,  have  written  most  Toluminously  on 
the  Museum  of  the  Capitol.  But  this  very  redundancy  of 
description  annuls  itself  Pew  will  explore  nine  or  ten  ioHo 
volumes,  but  all  must  wish  for  some  account  of  one  of  the 
finest  collections  of  ancient  sculpture  in  the  world.  There 
is,  however,  no  medium  between  a  little  dry  two-pennj 
catalogue,  and  these  ponderous  tomes;  and,  thou^  far 
be  from  me  the  presumptuous  thought  of  supplyiag  the 
deficiency,  I  will,  as  I  hastily  lead  you  through  the  noble 
halls  and  galleries  of  the  Capitol,  point  out,  on  the  way, 
a  few  of  the  most  remarkable  of  its  varied  works  of  ancient 
art  and  genius. 

You  enter  the  court,  and  discover,  in  the  opposite  recess, 
the  figure  of  Ocean,  reclining,  not  upon  his  own  vast  plaina 
of  water,  but  upon  a  little  Dubblin£^  fountain.  This  oriny 
god  was  the  ancient  respondent  of  Fasquin,  and,  if  report 
says  true,  infused  much  attic  salt  into  his  pleasant  replies. 
According  to  some  authorities,  he  is  the  Ehme ;  but  be  this 
as  it  may,  this  hoaiy  &.ther  of  the  flood  is  universally  called 
MarforiOf  from  havrng  been  found  in  the  Via  Marforio,  the 
name  of  which  has  obviously  been  corrupted  from  the  an- 
cient Forum  of  Mars.  Near  it  are  two  satyrs,  as  Carya- 
tides; three  consular  fasces  (on  the  left  wall),  and  two 
Pagan  sarcophagi,  found  in  the  catacombs  (that  receptacle 
only  of  Christian  martyrs),  on  one  of  which  is  inscribed  the 
portrait  and  name  of  the  Pagan  Boman  whose  remains  it 
contained.  The  Genius  of  Plenty,  with  the  horn  at  its 
feet ;  marine  monsters ;  the  chase  of  the  wild  boar  and  the 
stag ;  and  such  heathen  devices,  adorn  these  urns. 

On  the  centre  of  the  portico  of  the  court,  two  long,  lank, 


Digitized  by 


Google 


mrsxinc  or  vbm  oatttol.  68 

cdossal,  and  truly  Egyptian  figures  of  Icob,  staro  you  in  the 
face.  One  of  basalt  has  the  modkim  on  its  hea^  which  is 
coTered  with  hieroglyphics,  as  well  as  its  shapeless  back* 
The  other,  which  is  of^red  mmite,  has  the  lotus  flower  on 
its  brow,  and  three  figures  of  the  Ibis,  the  sacied.bird  of  the 
Nile,  on  its  back. 

The  best  statue  I  saw  in  this  portico,  was  Diana  looking 
after  the  arrow  she  had  just  thrown.  The  spirit  and  atti- 
tude of  the  figure  are  very  fine.  It  expresses  all  the  life 
and  freedom  of  the  huntress  of  the  woods.  The  diapery, 
blown  by  the  wind,  displays  to  great  adrantage  the  beau- 
tiful buskined  leg.  Diana's  petticoats,  I  must  beg  to  ob- 
serve, are  always  tucked  up ;  so  that,  you  see,  the  Scotch 
&8hion  of  the  women  kilting,  is  quite  dassicaL 

At  the  eztremily  of  this  little  portico  is  a  pedestal,  on 
whicb  is  sculptured,  in  reHevo,  the  bound  and  captiTe  per- 
sonification of  the  proTince  of  Dacia,  known  by  the  axe  she 
bears.  Beside  it  stands  a  fine  firagment  in  pawmaaeHo 
marble,  of  one  of  the  statues  of  the  captive  Dacian  kings, 
that  once  adorned  Trajan's  Arch  of  Triumph.  It  was  re- 
moYcd  by  Constantine  to  his  own  arch,  and  from  thence,  by 
one  of  the  Popes,  here.  The  full  trousers  of  those  captive 
kings  are  exactly  the  Turkish  dress  of  the  present  day-HSO 
long  do  modes  continue.  There  is  also  a  still  finer  frag- 
ment— ^the  le^  of  a  Hercules  trampling  upon  the  Hydra. 
The  rude  sculpture  of  the  Wolf  and  the  Twins,  found  at 
Albano,  seems  to  prove  its  antiquity,  although  we  can 
scarcely  admit  its  claims  to  have  adorned  Alba  Longa. 
Adrian,  as  Pontife;x  Maximus,  is  sacrificing,  with  the  h^ 
uncovered — ^which,  therefore,  must  have  been  to  Saturn,  for 
to  every  other  deity  the  priest  was  veiled. 

The  restorers  have  made  fine  work  here.  Ton  wiU  see 
Polyphemus,  notwithstanding  his  eye  over  his  nose,  trans- 
formed into  Pan — Muses  and  G-eniuses,  which  have  be- 
come celestial  since  their  mutilation— one  figure,  by  the 
beh)  of  a  cornucopia,  transformed  into  Plenty,  and  another 
dubbed  an  Immortality. 

A  warrior  in  complete  armour  and  a  long  beard,  usually 
called  Mars,  is  also  called  Pyrrhus,  who,  as  well,  as  all  the 
Greeks  of  his  day,  it  is  well  known,  used  to  shave  himselfl 


Digitized  by 


Google 


64  BOMS. 

'Winkelman,  liaving  assigned  this  reason  why  it  cannot  be 
Pyrrhus,  very  sagaciously  conjectures  that  it  is  either 
Jupiter  or  Agamemnon.*  Now,  though  it  is  certain  that 
the  Greeks  did  not  begin  to  shave  till  the  age  of  Pericles, 
and  that  Jupiter  never  was  known  to  shave  at  all,  the  as- 
sumption that  it  is  either  the  king  of  the  gods,  or  the 
"  king  of  men,"  is  purely  gratuitous.  It  may  just  as  well 
represent  an  ancient  Boman,  as  a  Greek  hero,  n)r  thej  also 
wore  beards.t  It  is  gravely  related  in  history,  that  m  the 
year  of  Borne  454,  barbers  first  came  from  Sicily  to  Borne, 
and  first  began  to  shave  the  Eomans.^  Caligula  used  to 
wear  a  aolden  heard  fixed  to  his  chin.§  Hadrian,  on  account 
of  a  blemish,  allowed  his  beard  to  grow,  and  afterwards 
beards  grew  common.  This  colossal  statue  is,  however,  at 
all  events,  extremely  interesting,  from  the  minute  details  of 
the  martial  accoutrements  it  bears.  The  weight  of  the 
lorica,  compressing  the  thick  folds  of  the  tunic,  looks  as  if 
the  man  encased  m  it  could  never  have  moved,  much  less 
fou^t.  It  reminds  one  of  the  heavy  coat  of  mail  described 
by  Virgil,  that  two  servants  could  scarcely  hold,  though, 
under  it,  the  swift  Grecian  did  such  execution — 

'*  LeYibuB  hole  hamis  conflertoin  auroqae  trilioem, 
Loricam, 

•  •  •  •  • 

Yix  illam  tunvli,  Phegeos,  Sagarisqne,  ferebant 
Multiplicem,  connixi  humeriB :  indutus  at  olim 
BemoleoB  cursu  palantes  Troas  agebat." 

^n.  V.  268 

A  whole  room  is  filled  with  Egyptian  sculpture,  brought 
from  the  Egyptian  Temple,  or  Canopus,  of  Adrian's  Vma. 

•^Hiat.  de  TArt,  Mr.  vil.  chap.  4  §  19. 

t*Iii  Beaaons  of  deep  affliction,  the  BomaxiB  at  all  periodB  frequently 
nBed  to  allow  their  bcArds  to  grow.  Thus  bearded  statues  may  repre- 
sent a  Boman  in  any  age,  mourning  the  loss  of  friends  or  the  reverBes 
of  fortune.  A  bearded  head  of  Augustus  on  a  fine  cameo,  noticed  by 
Winkelman,  lib.  ▼!.  cap  6.  $  7.  is  supposed  to  represent  him  in  grief 
for  the  defeat  of  Yams  and  the  three  legions. 

X  Plutarch's  Life  of  Camillus. 

§  Suet.  Calig.  52. 


Digitized  by 


Google 


XOTFTIAV  okBIKET,  W^ 

CanoptiB  bimself,  the  Egyptian  Neptune,*  has  the  lotos 
flower  on  his  little  head — and  is  of  black  basalt. 

In  this  room,  all  the  sculptures  in  basalt  are  ancient 
Egyptian.  The  rest,  in  nero  amtieo  marble,  which  look, 
from  their  beauty  and  dazzling  polish,  as  if  fresh  from  the 
artist's  hand,  are  of  the  age  of  Hadrian.  Of  the  latter  class, 
are  the  beautiful  conjoined  heads  of  the  Sun  and  Moon,  or 
Osiris  under  the  form  of  Apis  and  Isis ;  and  both  are  ex* 
quisitely  finished.  The  hawk-headed  divioity,  the  tutelar 
or  guardian  god  we  see  so  constantly  on  the  hieroglyphical 
monuments  of  the  Egyptians,  whether  in  painting  or  sculp- 
ture— on  tbeir  mummies  or  their  statues — ^is  also  supposed 
to  be  Osirist  represented  with  a  hawk*s  head,  from  the  sup- 
|)08ed  power  of  the  hawk's  eye  to  fix  its  gaze  upon  the  sun ; 
m  consequence  of  which,  even  among  the  Ghreeks,  the  hawk 
was  sacred  to  Fhoebus.t  Serapis,  whose  image  is  also  here, 
was  undoubtedly  the  true  Serapis,  the  Egyptian  Pluto. 
This  statue  was  first  imported  into  Egypt  from  Sinope,  in 
Pontus,  in  consequence  of  a  vision  of  one  of  the  Ptolomies.§ 
His  worship  was  not  received  in  Eome  till  the  reign  en 
Antoninus  Pius.  He  bears  the  modius  on  his  head,  as  an 
emblem  of  fecundity.  Here  is  an  Isis,  with  a  wis  of  pea- 
cock's feathers,  which  also  bears  the  modius  on  its  head. 
Anubis,  the  Egyptian  Mercury,  with  his  canine  head,  is  the 
only  deity  in  white  marble.  He  bears  both  the  cistrum 
aad  the  caducous,  and  is  also  of  Hadrian's  age.  Certainly 
these  works  are  greatly  relieved  from  the  straight,  stretchecU 
out,  perpendiculsor  rigidity,  of  the  true  Egyptian  sculpture. 

*  CanopuB,  which  was  the  name  of  one  of  the  mouths  of  the  Nile,  was, 
in  fact,  nothing  but  the  vase,  in  which  its  waters,  at  the  annual  inunda* 
tion,  were  carried  in  the  religious  rites.  But  from  the  propensity  of 
the  Egyptians  to  deify  everything,  it  was  worshipped  as  a  god  of  great 
importance,  and  had  a  beautiful  little  human  &ce,  which  surmounted 
the  vase.  It  does  not  appear  to  have  been  of  very  high  antiquity ;  for^ 
if  we  may  believe  history,  this  mouth  of  the  Nile  itself  received  its 
name  from  Can  opus,  a  Spartan  pilot,  who  was  buried  on  the  spot  at  the 
time  when  Menelaus  was  driven  on  the  coast,  and  in  memory  of  whom 
a  city  was  built.— Tacitus,  Ann.  lib.  IL  cap.  60. 

t  Kircher,  tom.  iii.  601.  %  Odyss.  v.  626. 

§  Vide  Tacitus,  Hist.  lib.  iv.  cap.  83,  84.  Civ.  Div.  2.  69.— Pau. 
tanias,  iib.  i.  cap.  18.  lib.  ii.  cap.  84. 

VOL.  II.  "         '  '    t  ■■ 


Digitized  by 


Google 


60  BQia. 

ThiMi  people-  BOMEad  to.  hma  much  resembknoe  ta  tbe^ 
CbineBe  in  their  worb^.a^  much  of  their  stationary  and^ 
unprogresfiiTe  charficter.  Tb&j  made  no  advaocea  in  »rt; 
and,  indeed,  where  anatomi^  was  a  subject  o£  religious  mj»^^ 
t&jj,  aod  an  incision  made  into  a  dead  bodj  accounted  worse, 
than  murder— excellence  in  the  representatio);i  of  the  human, 
form  was  manifestlj  unattainable.*  It.  always  seemed  to, 
be  their  aim,  to  make  men  as. much  as-  possiple  like  mui»-. 
niies.  Their  images:— for  I  cannot  call  them  Bt9^esr--*^had. 
never  any:  princijue  of  life;  far  less. did.  they  bear  any-ap* 
proach  to  freedom,  or  grae%  or  eispression, .  <»:  momenta^, 
action.  Their  stiff,  upxight  figuresy  their  long  baboon  anns^ 
hanging  close  to  their  aides ;  their  liu^e  flat  feet,  tbeir  mut^ 
insensible  faces,  their  unformed  limbs>  destitute  of  all.  acti'^ 
oulation  of  joints  and  musdes,  remixed  op^  rather  of  tlve 
first  rude  attempts  at  sculpture  tban^of  its  &usbed  state. . 

The  Sgyptians  might  give  the  art.  of  sculpture  to  tbe^ 
Greeks,  but  theirs  was  oi^y  the  lifeless  figure  of :  day. .  11? 
was  the  Greeks  who  staruck  the  promethean  spark,  that.gavo 
it  life. 

During  the  enlightened  reigns  of  the  Ptoleipies,  however, 
Alexandna  livaUed  Athens,  and  the  artists  even  of  Greece^ 
received  in  their  courts  that  asylum  and.  paitronage,  whid^ 
their  own  exhausted  and  oppressed  country  could  no.long^ 
afford. 

Beyond  the  !E!gyptian  room,  is  a  damber  filled  with  in<^ 
aoripmonS)  f^oiibracing  tiie  whole  period  of  the  Boman  empire^ 
firom  Augustus  to  Theodosius*  Here  stands  the  Columni^ 
MiUiarium,  an  ancient  Boman  marble  mile-stone,  with  two 
inscriptions,  one  in  Latin,  the  other  in  Greek.  A  pedestal, 
of  the  finest  style  of  Greek  sculpture,  represents  the  labours 
of  Hercules' ;  and,  on  the  sepulchral  cippus,  and  also  cm  a 
column,  I  observed  all  the  ancient  instruments  used  in 
architecture,  and  in,mensuratiou— the  trowel,  the  hammer, 

*  Vide  Winkelman,  Histoire  de  TArt,  liv.  ii.  cap.  i.  §  9,  who  quotes 
Diod.  Siculus,  1.  L  §  91.  The  embalming  of  the  dead  among  the 
Egyptians  was  intrusted  to  one  family,  and  transmitted  from  father  to 
to  son.  It  is  related,  that  these  operators,  after  having  finished  their 
work,  were  generally  obliged  to  ran  away,  from  the  childish  rage  of  the 
relations  at  the  necessaiy  incisions  that  had  been  made  for  this  pnipose 
in  the  corpoQ  of  the  deceased. 


Digitized  by 


Google 


HiXL  01*  nrSOBIFTIOVB.  07 

fbe  compasses^  i^&  plummet,  and  tlie  qnadraDi,'  Sbo:  exms&j ' 
such  as  we  use  at  the  present  day. 

The  hist  room  contaiiisi  the  greats  marble  Bsrcopha^asj  in 
wMch  was  found  the  Barbeirini— or  the  Poridand  Va«e*,-  as  j 
it  was  called  from  its  possessor,  the  Duke  of  Portland.  The  > 
subject  represented  on  that  eicjuisitely  beautiful  vase^  which: 
has  excited  so  much  speculatLon^  is.  supposed,  by,  the 'best) 
critics,  to  be  the  story  of- Peleus  and  Thetis^. who  metaanoiv. 
i^iosed  herself  into  a: serpent. to  escf^  the;puxamt  of  ber 
lover. 

The  sarcophagus  itsdf,from  two  figures,  of  badlaonlpture,, 
at  the  top,  has  been  called  the  twnbof  Alenoinder  QeyenMy , 
and  Mammea,  his  mother.  But  Winkelman  obserres,.  that, 
ae  the -man  r^resented.  here  is  at  least  fifty,  and  Alexander  > 
Sevenis  was  murdered  before .  he  was  thirty,  l^s  is  i  impos-  • 
sible.  It  is  more  reasonably  supposed  to  be  the  tomo  of] 
the  parents  of  Alexander  Severus.  The  bassi  rilievi,  .on^he . 
four  sides,  are  of  yaxying  degrees  of  excellence. .  The  fronts 
which  is  very  fine^  represents  the  contest  betwe^i  Achilles  r 
and  Agamemnon  at  i  the  departure  of  Ohryseis  for  Briseis;^. 
The  trembling  maid,. the  assembled  Greeks,  the  noble  figures,, 
the  contending  passious  expressed  by  their  action, .  and,. 
thove  all,  ths.traoiqmrt  of  Adiilles,  whose  uplifted  am  is; 
withheld  by  Mineira,  are  admirably  sculptured. 

On  the  side  next  I  the  window,  the  fair  caplive  is  leaying' 
i^  tent  withtlie.heraM&  The  scul|)to7  has  aimed  at  giving 
erven  a  stronger  interest  to  this  partmg  scene;  than  the  poet) 
who  describes  her, 

"  Oft  looking:  buck,  slow  moving  o'er  the  strand,' 

by  the ^qyression  of  longing  regret  which  she. throws  upon- 
her  departing  lover,  whose  horse  is  held  by.  his : attendants.. 

The  third  side,  which  repreeentib  the  Gf^reeks  supplicating 
Achillesto  revenge  the  death  of  Patroclus,  is  of  very  inferiooR 
sculpture;  and  the  fourth — ^the  principal  actions  of  Achillea 
-—is  iqpparently  the  work  of  a  barbarous  ^ageu. 

]jx  this  apartment  there  is  a.  vexy^  cunous  insciiptioniis: 

*  It  WM.  placed  in  the  British  Hueeum,  where  it  was  wantonly 
destroyed  by  a  visitor,  who  dashed  it  to  pieces,  some  years  after  this 
work  was  first  published. 

p  2 


Digitized  by 


Google 


68  BOHX. 

the  PalmyTeaii  langaage,  the  only  one  I  ever  met  witli^ 
m^y  of  tne  letters  are  tmknown. 

While  my  companions  were  admiring  an  ancient  mosaic, 
representing  Love  conquering  Force,  or  little  Loves  mounted 
on  the  subdued  Lion,  I  was  much  amused  with  a  curious 
basso  relievo  of  one  of  the  Qalli,  Cjbele's  vagabond  priests, 
(supposed  to  be  the  Archigallus,)  in  full  costume,  and  sur- 
rounded with  all  the  symbols  of  her  worship. 

"While  examining  them,  I  could  not  refrain  from  specu- 
lating upon  what  had  become  of  the  sacred  simulacrum  of 
Cybele,  which  the  Somans  having  obtained  by  humble  sup- 
r£cation,  transported  by  solemn  embassy  from  Phiygia  to 
Kome.  Li  the  early  ages  of  Greece,  not  only  Cybele,  but 
all  its  deities — Bacchus,  Venus,*  Cupid,  and  even  the 
G-races  themselves,  were  represented  and  worshipped  under 
the  forms  of  shapeless  masses  of  stone.  The  combined 
figure  in  the  Zodiac,  which  still  designates  Castor  and 
Pollux,  shows  that  they  were  ancientlv  adored  under  the 
form  of  two  parallel  sticks  connected  together.t  What 
strikes  me  with  admiration  in  this  is,  that  in  the  very 
iiifancy  of  society,  while  the  arts  were  unequal  even  to  the 
rudest  imitation  of  the  human  form,  such  abstract  and 

Soetic  ideas  as  those  of  Beautv,  of  Love,  of  Grace,  of  that, 
evoted  affection  which  could  make  an  immortal  ^resign 
immortaUW,  or  share  it  with  the  being  he  loved  J — of  "  the 
Common  Mother,"  of  man,  and  of  creation, — should  ever 
have  been  conceived  at  all — ^much  less  generallv  adopted 
and  worshipped.  The  origin  of  the  Grecian  mythology,  its/ 
high  antiquity,  and  the  complicated  and  refined  ideas  it 
involves,  considered  in  a  philosophical  light,  would  form  a 
very  interesting  subject  of  inquiry.  But  to  proceed  on  our 
way  through  the  Museum  of  the  Capitol. 

On  the  staircase,  are  the  twen^-six  fragments  of  the 
ancient  plan  of  Bome,  which  formed  the  pavement  of  the 
Temple  of  Eomulus  and  Bemus,  or  the  Church  of  S.  S.. 
Cosmo  and  Damiano.  BLalf  way  up,  is  one  of  those  nume- 
zous  statues,  generally  called  Modesly — ^the  head  veiled,  and 

*  See  the  description  in  Tacitus  of  the  Paphian  Venus, 
t  Winkelman,  Hist,  de  I'Art,  liv.  i.  t  PoUux, 


Digitized  by 


Google 


AimQITB  BUSTS.  09 

t^e  %ure  enyeloped,  but  not  concealed,  in  the  thin,  trans- 
parent, clinging  oraperj.  They  used  to  go  by  the  name  of 
■yestals,  and  are  now  supposed,  like  all  veiled  statues,  to  be 
sepulchral  figures. 

In  the  gafiery,  you  will  stop  to  admire  the  striking,  but 
.disgusting  figure  of  an  old,  drunken,  screaming  Bacchante, 
grasping  with  both  hands  a  skin  of  wine ;  the  deep  despair 
of  the  abandoned  Psyche ;  one  of  the  finest  of  the  oiaughters 
of  Niobe ;  the  torso  of  a  Discobolus,  restored  as  a  SiUing 
'Gladiator;  the  head  of  Jupiter  Ammon ;  the  sarcophagus, 
with  the  bas  relief  of  the  Eape  of  Proserpine ;  but  more 
particularly,  the  in&nt  Hercules  stranglmg,  without  an 
effort,  the  serpents — ^which  has  always  seemed  to  me  a 
beauti^  allegory  of  Innocence  destroying  Evil. 

Here  we  have  the  bust  of  Scipio  Africanus — of  whom  I 
have  seen  at  least  six  heads,  dinering  from  each  other  in 
everything  but  ugliness ;  for  evefj  bust  marked  with  a  scar 
is  invariably  called  the  bust  of  Scipio ;  but  as  this  is  inscribed 
vrith  his  name,  and  resembles  the  bust  of  green  basalt  of 
the  Palazzo  Eospigliosi,  which  was  found  in  the  ruins  of 
Lintemum,  we  may  contemplate  it  with  the  hope,  at  least, 
that  we  really  behold  the  portrait  of  that  truly  great 
Itoman. 

Here,  too,  we  have  a  bust  of  Brutus — ^though  he  who  had 
dared  to  preserve  the  head  of  the  assassin  of  C»8ar,  would 
probably  not  long  have  retained  his  own  on  his  shoulders ; 
another  of  Pompey  may  be  genuine,  though  his  nose  is 
somewhat  apocryphal;*  a  third  is  called  Cato  the  Censor, 
though  we  have  not  even  tradition  to  help  us  to  his  phy- 
siognomy— ^and  many  more  of  the  famous  heroes  of  the 
Bepublic,  which  nothing  could  prevent  us  from  contem- 
•platiQg  with  the  deepest  interest,  except  the  conviction  that 
they  are  all  impostors.t  But  the  fine  colossal  bust  of 
Mflurcus  Agrippa  is  both  beautiful  and  authentic.    Here, 

*  I  mean  compared  with  the  medal,  the  impression  of  which  may  be 
seen  in  Mafiei  Bac.  di  Stat.  tav.  127.  Neither  does  it  bear  the  smallest 
resemblance  to  the  statue  at  the  Palazzo  Spada. 

+  Once  for  all,  I  must  notice  the  mortifying  truth,  that,  with  scarce 
an  exception,  there  is  no  authority  for  any  head  of  Republican  date, 
Pompey,— and  even  he  is  dubious.— as  &r  as  I  remember,  is  the  sole. 


Digitized  by 


Google 


70  BOMS. 

too,  is  a  bust  you  wotdd,  perhaps/bardlj  expect  to  see, 
that  of  Cecrope,  King  of  Athens ! 

I' observed  a  sarcophagus,  the  sides  of  which  are  sculp- 
tured with  the  education  of  Bacchus,  and  his  &rst  adoration, 
after  having  planted  the  vine ;  and  in  the  centre,  a  most 
curious  representation  of  a  sport  celebrated  in  his  honour, 
in  which  a  party  of  men  are  jumping  upon  a  skin,  swelled 
out  with  wine,>and  well  oiled ;  while  old  Silenus  is  laughing 
at  aa  unlucky  wight  who  is  sprawling  on  the  ground. 

On  a  votive  altar,  of  vile  sculpture,  which  now  serves  fete 

-  a  pedestial  to  a  statue  of  Jove,  you  see  the  Vestal  Claudia, 

•  drawing  after  her  the  vessel  containing  the  simulacrum  of 
Cybele. 

Two  rooms  on  the  right  of  the  galleiy,  contain  a  laosb 
enterfcaining  variety  of  inscriptions,  marbles,  bronzes,  vases, 
&c.  Ac.  Of  these  I  shall  mention  very  few ;  but  I  cannot 
altogether  pass  over  aibeautiM  bronze  vase,  found  in  the 
sea  at  Antium,  which,  as  the  inscription  upon  it  proves,  was 
given  by  Mithridates,  King  of  Pontus,  to  the  CJollege  of 
Grymnasiarchs.  There  is  also  a  noble  G^reek  marble  vase, 
which  gives  to  the  room  its  title  of  Stanza  del  Vaso,  en- 
circled with  its  sculptured  foliage. of  vines,  which  was  found 
among  the  ruined  tombs  of  the  Via  Appia — ^as  if  the  spirits 
of  the  ancient  Eomans  had  been  quaffing  nectar  from  its 
brim.  It  is  placed  upon  a  marble  pedestal,  sculptured  with 
the  twelve  great  goos — a  work  which  Winkelman  enume- 
rates among' the  very  few  undoubted  monuments  of  Etruscan 

.art.  He  remarks,  that  Vulcan,  who  appears  young,  and 
without  a  beard,  is  armed  with  a  hatchet,  with  which  he  ia 
preparing  to.  cleave  Jupiter's  skull,  in  order  to  help  Minerva 
out;  exactly  as  the  birth  of  Minerva  is  Tepresented  on  the 
Etruscan  pateras.  But  in  those  Jupiter  is  always  sitting; 
here  he  is  standing :  nor  eould  I  trace  -any  design  of  break- 
ing his  head  on  the  part  of  Vulcan :  not  to  mention  that  it 
seems  wholly  unnecessary,  as  Minerva  is  already  out,  and 

'appears  on  ner  legs  in  this  procession  of  deities.  This 
curious  piece  of  ancient  sculpture  has  apparently  served  as 
the  mouth  of  a  well,  for  the  marks,  worn  l)y  the  cords,  are 

.  still  distinctly  visible.  Thus,  the  ancients,  with  true  refine- 
ment 4aid  taste,  carried  the  embellishment  of  the  Pine  Arts 


Digitized  by 


Google 


THI  ILIAO  TABUB.  71 

'eren'to^the  bomblert  eonreniencai  of '^domestic  Ufe.    The 

•  meanest  utensil  was  elegant  in  its  form — ^the  poorest  ear- 
ment  graceful  in  its  fol£  and  drapery — and  the  prodigiJity 
of  painting  and  sculpture,  with  which  not  only  tneir»streets 

•  and  public  buildings,  but  their  private  habitationB  were 
adorned,  may  well  raise  our  wonder  and  our  shame.  Nor 
were  they  ^nfined  to  patrician  wealth.  The  humble  dwel- 
lings of  an  obscure  little  country  sea-port,  such  as  Hercu- 
laneum  or  Pompeii,  were  adorned  with  jpaintings  of  ex- 
quisite beauty,  and  filled  with  statues  which  must  be  for 
ever- the  admiration  of  every  countiy  and  every  age;  while, 
in  London  itself^  the  modem  metropolis  of  t^e  world,  over- 
flowing with  wealth  and  luxuiy,  scarcely  one  of  the  private 
houses  of  its  wealthy  citizens  can  boast  a  single  piece  of 
scolptttre.  However  opulent,  however  prodigal,  nowever 
kourious,  it  is  rarely  on  works  of  art  that  Englishmen 
lavi^rh  their  wealth.  Nor  is  it  their  cost  that  renders  them 
now  unattainable ;  for,  strange  as  the  het  may  seem,  aneieiit 
sculpture  ^etually  bore  a  higher  price  among  the  ancients 
themselves,  th^ai  it  does  even  in  the  present  day.*  Yet, 
notwithstanding  the  extravagant  price  of  statues  m  ancient 
times,  we  hear  of  one  hundred  and  sixty  different  statues  of 
bronze  being  ereeted  in  one  year  to  one  man  f  at  Athens. 

^But  to  return  from  Athens,  whither  this  long  digression 
hasr  carried  us,  to  the  Museum  of  the  Capitol— I  must  not 
pass  unnoticed  the  &mous  Iliac  table.  A  jovial  priest, 
who  was  out  huntiDg,  found  it  on  the  Ap|>ian  ^ay,  at  *a 
pkce  *  called  Mle  m-aUoehie^X  where,  it  is  believed,  the 
Smperor  Ckudius  had  a  villa,  and  this  remarkable^  bas  relief 
a»ifiupposed>to  be  a  work  of  his  reign.§  It  is  only  a  small 
s^^dare  slab  Of  marble,  though  it  has  made  so  much  noise  in 
t^e  world ;  'and  upon  it  are  sculptured  the  principal  aetiona 
of  4!he  Biajd,  with  an  explanatory  inscription  inGrreek,  which 
■)x»A  been  so  often  translated  and  commented  upon,  that  it  is 

•  Hist.  deTArt,  liv.  iv.  7,§  61. 
t  Ddmeiritia^f  Phalerias.    Vide  Riny,  L  ocxxiv.  cap.  6. 
X  Fonnerjy  Bovillae,  where  the  murder  of  Clodius  by  Milo  is  sap- 
'j^osed  to  hate  happened. 

%  Winkelman,  Hist,  de  TArt.  liv.  iv.  chap.  2.  The.  engraving  and 
full  ezplanaUonirillbe  foimd  in^FogS:im'Mas.  Capit'L  iv.  tav.  68. 


Digitized  by 


Google 


72  BOMX. 

•not  necessajry  for  me  to  say  anything  about  it;  a  dicom- 
Btance  that  is  peculiarly  fortunate,  as  I  do  not  understand  it. 

Diana  Tr^ormtM  is  a  small  bronze  sculpture,  as  light  and 
portable-looking  as  a  child's  plaything;  the  three  figures 
joined  together,  back  to  back,  iu  the  form  of  a  small  tnimgle. 
This  goddess  certainly  forms  the  Pagan  trinity.  She  is  three 
in  one — here  she  appears  in  hell,  on  earth,  and  in  heaven, 
at  once : — ^as  Proserpine,  crowned  with  the  six  rays  of  the 
planets,  a  serpent  in  one  hand — as  Hecate,  her  brows  bound 
with  laurel,  holding  a  key — as  Diana  Ludfera,  a  lotus  flower 
on  her  forehead,  and  bearing  a  torch.  In  aJl  these  varied 
characters — ^in  the  chaste  huntress,  and  in  the  motionless 
Ephesian  idol  incased  like  a  mummy  in  mystic  symbols,  who 
can  recognize  the  same  goddess  P 

Here  is  a  bronze  foot  of  the  colossal  statue  of  Gaius 
Cestius ;  a  bronze  inscription  of  Sep.  Sererus  and  CaracaUa, 
(the  name  of  Geta  erased,)  a  triumph  of  Bacchus,  columns, 
busts,  bassi-reKevi,  cinerary  urns,  minute  images  in  bronze 
and  alabaster  of  gods  and  goddesses ;  ancient  tripods  and 
candelabras ;  besides  a  hun(&ed  little  other  interesting  an- 
tiques which  will  catch  your  eye. 

I  noticed  a  statera,  with  its  weight,  exactly  like  our  steel- 
yard, which  I  had  no  notion  was  so  classical  a  thing. 

In  the  wall  of  this  room  is  the  famous  JEkirietH  mosaic, 
found  by  the  Cardinal  of  that  name  at  Hadrian's  Villa, 
representing  four  doves,  perched  on  the  brim  of  a  large  vase 
or  basin,  filkd  with  water,  one  of  which  is  drinking  from  it. 
Simple  as  the  subject  is,  the  taste  of  the  design  is  most 
beautiful.  It  answers  so  exactly  to  Pliny's  description  of 
the  &mouB  Mosaic  of  Sosus,  in  the  temple  of  Per^amus, 
that  if  not  the  original,  which  I  confess  I  do  not  beheve,  it 
must  at  least  be  considered  a  copy.  Winkelman*  denies  its 
originality,  from  the  diflBculty  of  transportation,  a  reason  we 
can  scarcely  hold  valid ;  but  his  commentator  observes  very 
justly,  that  as  Hadrian  was  remarkable  for  his  careful  pre- 
servation of  ancient  works  of  art,  encouraged  their  imitation, 
and  emulated  their  perfection,  but  never  carried  them  off 
from  their  proper  possessors  and  situations,  (unlike  oyr 

*  Winkelman,  Hist,  de  1' Art,  Uv.  vi.  chap.  7. 


Digitized  by 


Google 


BT78T9  07  TflX  EMFEB0B8.  73 

i&odera  patrons  of  the  arts,)  it  is  mucli  more  probable 
that  he  caused  the  beautiful  mosaic  of  Sosus  to  be  copied 
hj  the  best  artists  of  his  own  time,  than  that  he  tore  it 
up  from  the  Temple  of  Fergamus,  to  embellish  his  own 
palace. 

There  is  a  sarcophagus  in  this  room,  adorned  with  a  has 
relief  of  wretched  sculpture,  perhaps  of  the  fourth  or  fifth 
century,  but  the  subject  of  which  is  very  curious.  It  repre- 
sents the  whole  Promethean  creation  of  man.  First,  we  see 
Prometheus  moulding  the  figure  out  of  clay,  while  Minerr a 
is  iofusing  into  the  lifeless  mass,  the  spirit,  in  the  form  of 
a  butterfly.  Cupid  and  Psyche  embracing  each  other,  also 
represent  the  union  of  the  body  and  soiu.  The  four  ele- 
ments necessary  to  the  life  of  man,  surround  them,  and  are 
personified  by  jEoIus  blowing  his  airy  horn — Ocean,  with 
the  monsters  of  his  watery  reign — ^Vulcan  at  his  fiery  forge, 
and  the  "Common  Mother,"  raising  her  breast  above  the 
ground,  with  a  cornucopia  in  her  hand.  Man  then  appears 
endowed  with  life;  and  the  three  implacable  Fates,  who 
attend  him  fi*om  the  cradle  to  the  tomb,  start  up  by  his 
side.  He  is  laid  low  iq  death.  The  G-enius  of  life,  weeping 
over  his  corpse,  extinguishes  his  torch.  The  soul,  bursting 
upwards  on  its  butterfly  wings,  is  conducted  to  heaven  by 
Mercury.  Lastly,  we  behold  Prometheus  sufiering  the 
gnawing  anguish  of  remorse,  or  the  vulture  preying  on  his 
vitals.  It  is  destroyed  by  Hercules.  Will  it  be  deemed 
pro&ne  to  find  ia  tms  a  type  of  our  Saviour's  conquest  over 
the  penalty  of  sin  ? 

There  is  a  whole  room  fiUed  with  the  busts  of  the  em- 
perors and  their  families,  nearly  complete.  Even  Com- 
modus,  an  admirable  bust,  notwithstanding  the  decree  to 
destroy  every  image  of  him,  is  here ;  and  the  unfortunate 
Geta,  in  spite  of  the  labours  of  his  brother  and  murderer 
to  erase  even  his  name  from  the  earth,  still  stands  by  his 
side,  as  if  haunting  him  in  death.  The  busts  of  G-erman- 
icus,  of  Nero,  and  of  Poppsea,  are  exquisitely  beautiful. 
The  contrasts  of  the  countenance  between  Nero  young,  and 
Nero  in  more  advanced  life,  will  strike  you  forcibly ;  the 
beauty  of  the  innocent  fiice  of  Annius  V  erus  will  charm 
you;  and  the  hideous  head  of  Julian  the  Apostate  will 


Digitized  by 


Google 


74  BOIDB. 

puzzle  yon  to  detenniiiie  wliethflr  the  secd^ture  or  Ae 
subject  is  the  woTSt.  The  hend  of  Otho,  which  is  here,  is 
extremely  rare.  THbe  fine  bust  of  l^erra,  which  has  been 
erroneously  reported  to  be  modem,  is  a  genuine  antiqtie. 
So  is  the  head  of  Yitellius — ^though  most  of  the  busts  of 
that  emperor  are  modem. 

You  will  never  be  satiated  witii  admiring  the  noble  seated 
statue  of  Agrippina,  the  wife  of  G^ermanicus.  Yet  the 
Agrippina  of  Naples  is  perhaps  superior  even  to  this.  It 
realizes  our  highest  conceptions  of  the  august  dignity  of  an 
ancient  Boman  matron. 

The  bassi  relievi  on  the  walls,  of  Perseus  liberating 
Andromeda,  and  Endymion  sleeping,  are  full  of  grace  and 
beauty. 

The  bassi  relievi  in  the  next  room,  (the  Stanaa  de*  M- 
losofi,)  from  their  subjects,  rather  than  their  execution^ 
afforded  me  great  entertainment.  Among  them  are,  'a 
woman  teachu^  a  eat  to  dance,  while  she  plays  upon  the 
lyre  to  it;  poor  Grimalkin  trying  aU  the  time  vaialy  to 
reach  two  birds  suspended  over  its  head — Calliope  teaching 
Orpheus  to  play  upon  the  lyre,  before  the  image  of  a  man^ 
whom  the  strains  seem  to  animate  with  life— Esculapius 
and  Hygeia  laying  their  heads  together ;  and,  in  the  next, 
the  consequences  not  uncommon  of  such  consultations, — a 
funeral  procession.  There  are  many  more ;  but  I  was  paas 
ticularly  struck  with  the  tragedy  of  the  death  of  Meleager. 
The  uncles,  pierced  with  their  death-wounds, — ^his  inftiriated 
mother  burning  the  fetal  brand,  to  which  the  life  of  her 
son  is  attached, — ^his  faintin?  form  felling  on  the  couch, 
and  his  beloved  Atalanta  vainly  weeding  over  him,— alto- 
gether form  a  subject  of  the  highest  interest,  but  which  is, 
perhaps,  better  adapted  to  painting  than  to  sculpture; 
though  no  modem  painter  could  do  it  justice. 

In  the  middle  of  the  room  is  placed  an  exquisitely  bean* 
trful  little  bronze  statue  of  a  youth,  seated  in  a  meditative 
posture, — a  model  of  juvenile  beauty.  It  is  supposed  to 
represent  one  of  the  twelve  Oamilli,^ 

As  to  the  philosophers,  some  of  the 'most  iiiteresting,  mich 

Digitized  byVjOOQlC 


BUSTS  OT  PHtLOSOPHXBS.  75 

88  Yirgjl,  and  Cicero,*  and  Seneca,  are  purely  sapposititioQB. 
There  is  not  a  head  of  any  poet  or  f^osopher  of  ike 
Augartan  age,  that  \9e  kaaw  to  be  geniime.  The  authen- 
ticity of  some  of  the  Greeks  is  ascertained,  either  from 
faayijBg  been  fbund  with  the  ancient  inscriptions  of  their 
xuimes  upon  them,  or  from  being  prototypes  of  others  to 
authenticated.  The  Homers,  for  there  are  seyeral,  are  the 
very  heads  your  fimcy  would  pourtray  for  the  old  blind 
baid,  the  father  of  poetry.  I  understand  they  were  iden- 
tified with  the  apotheosis  of  Homer,  formerly  in  the  Colonna 
palace ;  and  if  (which  is  probable)  no  bust  was  really  taken 
of  him  in  life,  this  seems,  at  least,  to  have  been  the  head 
cuirent  among  the  ancients  as  Homer ;  just  as  the  post- 
humous, picture  of  Shakespeare  passes  among  us.  Aristides 
is  known  from  the  incomparable  statue  at  Naples.  Socrates 
cau  nerer  be  mistaken.  Metradorus,  Epicurus,  PLndar, 
Aiiacreon,'aiid  some  others,  are  also  ascertained.  The  little 
bronze  and  bearded  bust  of  Demosthenes,  found  in  Hercu- 
laneum,  has  identified  the  great  orator.  Sappho  had  a 
good  right  to  be  here;  but  how  Cleopatra t  got  among 
these  Grecian  sages,  we  cannot  guess.  Her  neighbour, 
Aspasia,  was  too  much  in  their  company,  when  alive,  to  be 
turned  out  of  it  now.  The  Flatos  are  all  recognized  to  be 
the  heads  of  barbarians,  notwithstanding  their  philosophic 
name  inscribed  below.  The  last  of  these  busts,  that  of 
^aerao,  an  architect  of  Cremona,  is  one  of  the  (now)  rare 
works  of  Michael  Angelo.  I  dare  not  tell  you,  that  I  think 
I  hare  seen  finer  busts,  by  less  celebrated  hands,  and  there- 
fore I  will  say  nothing  of  it. 

In  the  great  hall,  one  is  struck  with  the  modesty  of 
Clement  XII.,  in  haying  taken  two  Victories,  from  the 
Triumphal  Arch  of  Marcos  Aurelius,  to  support  his  coat 
of  arms!  It  must,  indeed,  be  acknowledged  that  the  Popes 
want  no  tnnnpeter.  Every  little  thing  they  make  or  mend, 
be  it  a  wooden  door,  or  a  leaden  cistern,  or  a  few  etone 

*  ItlareUted  that  a  mddal  was  fomid  of  Cicero;  but  all  the  busts 
tnd-iUktiiM  which  bear  the  name  of  that  great  orator  are  now  acknow- 
ledged to  be  impositions. 

1 1  need  scarcely  obserre,  there  is  no  anthoriiy  for  the  name  this 
host  snd  many  of  the  others  bear. 


Digitized  by 


Google 


76  BOKB 

steps,  or  a  little  bit  of  brick  wall,  is  marked  with  their 
mun^enza  I  These  multiplied  mtmifieenzd's  of  every  Pope, 
as  far  as  large  gilt  letters  can  prove  it,  stare  you  in  the  face 
in  Eome,  on  all  sides,  wherever  you  go. 

By  their  mtmificenza — two  columns  of  giallo  antico,  from 
the  neighbourhood  of  the  tomb  of  Cecilia  Metella,  support 
the  principal  niche.  But  the  sculptures  in  the  middle  of 
the  room  first  attract  the  eye.  Jupiter,  iq  nero  antico 
marble,  is,  after  all,  but  poor ;  and,  indeed,  I  have  never 
anywhere  seen  a  fine  statue  of  the  great  thunderer.  Escu- 
lapius  is  no  better.  The  young  Hercules  (veiled)  inpietra 
paragoncy*  found  on  the  Aventine,  looks  fat  and  puflfr,  rather 
than  strong ;  but  the  famous  Furietti  Centaurs  1  admire 
extremely;  indeed  more,  I  suppose,  than  I  ought;  for 
Winkelman  (and,  of  course,  all  the  critics  echo  hun)  gives 
them  small  praise,  though  he  does  not  mention  in  which 
way  they  displease  him,  and  only  observes,  that  the^  have 
have  anciently  borne  children  on  their  ba<^s,  which  is  evi- 
dent from  the  holes.  The  oldest,  who  bears  the  pedum  in 
his  hand,  is  thought  to  be  Chiron  carrying  Achilles  on  his 
back,  to  instruct  him  in  horsemanship  and  the  chase.  He 
looks  back  at  the  infant  hero  with  a  joyous  and  triumphant 
air.  The  other  is  dejected,  and  apparently  vanquished ;  his 
hands  are  bound  behind  his  back.  I  was  much  charmed 
with  the  life  and  spirit,  the  action,  the  freedom,  and  the 
grace,  of  these  two  beautiful  Centaurs.  They  are  of  dark 
grey  marble,  were  found  in  Hadrian's  villa,  and  are  inscribed 
witn  the  names  of  two  G-reek  artists,  supposed  to  be  of  his 
own  time. 

A  fine,  but  imknown  consular  statue,  is  foolishly  called 
Marius,  though,  from  his  countenance,  his  air,  and  his 
action,  it  is  obvious  that  he  is  an  orator  and  a  philosopher ; 
and  the  rude,  imlettered  soldier  was  neither.  Some  critics 
call  it  a  sepulchral  figure. 

The  Amazons  are  fine.  One  of  the  heads  is  modem; 
both,  as  usual,  represent  wounded  Amazons.  Indeed,  so 
dose  is  the  resemblance  between  all  these  statues,  that  we 
cannot  but  suppose  they  have  been  all  taken  from  one  or 

*  Commonly  called  touch-stone. 


Digitized  by 


Google 


mrssuM  OT  ths  oapitol.  77 

two  celebrated  ancient  models,  as  well  as  most  of  the  Fauns, 
Dianas,  Yenuses,  Cupids,  Baccbuses,  &c.,  which,  without 
variation  of  attitude  or  conception,  crowd  every  museum. 
There  were  three  rival  statues  of  Amazons, — ^the  productions 
of  Ctesilaiis,  Polycletes,  and  Phidias, — the  fame  of  which 
has  come  down  to  our  times. 

The  drapery  of  the  fine  Grrecian  statue  of  Isis,  in  this  hall, 
knotted  on  the  breast,  and  falling  in  graceful  folds  to  the 
feet,  is  singularly  beautiful.  She  wears  the  fringed  peplvm^ 
or  mantle,  to  denote  her  eastern  extraction — the  Grecians 
wore  it  plain.  AU  the  statues  of  this  goddess,  in  white 
marble,  are  of  the  time  of  the  Empire,  after  her  worship 
was  adopted  in  Some,  and  are,  for  the  most  part,  the  work 
of  Greek  artists ;  but  this  is  by  far  the  finest. 

The  ancient  bronze  (and  once  gilded)  Hercules,  found  in 
or  near  the  Eorum  Boariimi,  with  his  head  too  small  for  his 
body,  looks  rather  awkward  and  ungainly. 

The  old  shrivelled  crying  crone — whether  she  be  a  Frte^ 
fica*  a  Hecuba,  or  any  other  of  the  innumerable  descrip- 
tions of  ugly  old  women,  it  is  possible  she  may  be — is  cer- 
tainly good  of  the  kind,  that  is,  well  executed,  though  a 
disagreeable  subject.  I  must  pass  by  Antoninus  Pius,  with 
the  civic  crown  he  deserved  so  well ;  the  Altar  of  Fortune,, 
on  which  that  goddess,  who  is  now  as  ever  the  object  of 
men's  worship,  is  represented,  seated  on  her  throne,  crowned 
with  her  diadem,  holding  in  her  left  hand  the  cornucopia,, 
and  in  her  right  the  rudder  with  which  she  turns  the 
world.  I  must  pass  by  the  pedestal  on  which  the  birth 
and  concealment  of  Jove — the  stupidity  of  old  Saturn,  in 
swallowing  a  stone  instead  of  his  son — the  din  raised  by 
the  Gorybantes  to  stifle  his  cries — ^the  care  taken  to  suckle 
him  by  his  four-footed  nurse  Amalthea — and,  finally,  his 
exaltation  to  the  throne  of  heaven,  are  all  very  minutely 
represented.  I  must  pass  by  many  things — ^but  I  must 
stop  for  one  moment  at  the  finest  stsitue  in  this  room,  and 
one  that  has  never  received  its  due  share  of  encomium. 
It  is  the  fine  figure  of  a  man  speaking,  with  drapery  round 
the  lower  part  of  the  body  only,  in  an  easy  graceful  attitude^ 

*  This  is  not  probable,  because  these  hired  mourners  had  their  haif 
^^Btreaming  to  the  troubled  air,"  andthis  old  woman  has  hers  boimd  up* 


Digitized  by 


Google 


78  xoiCEv 

one  foot  resting  on  a  nosed  stoistt  or  step,-  and:  liifl  finger^ 
held  up  as  if  to  enforce  attention.    It  is  called  a  professor: 
of  the  ^nmastic  art,  or  the  master  of  an  academy,  of  gla^/ 
diatorS)  instructing  his  disciples.    It  is  an  admirable  statue^ 
and  unique;  but  Haxpocrates,  that  little  mysterious  god^, 
with  his  brimming  cornucopia  in  his  hand,  his  brow  adorned  • 
with  the  lotus  flower,  and  his  expressive  flnger  pressed  upon 
his  lip,  enjoins  me  silence.     Plainer  than  words. can  speak,, 
his  gesture  tells  me  how  fat  and  flourishing  he  has  grown: 
hj  holding  his  tongue.    I  dare  say  you.  wish  I  would  foUow  ? 
his  example;  but  few.  of  my  sex  ever  did,  and  I  shall  go- 
on to  talk  of  the  room  where  the  jocund  Faun,  (in  rosso, 
antico,)  eyeing  the  tempting  bunch,  of  grapes,  which  he- 
holds  suspended  in  his  hand,  and  surrounded  with  his  goat,, 
his  pedum,  and  his  basket,  looks  the  happiest  of  created 
beings;    But  notwithstanding  the  symmetry  of  his  finely* 
formed  limbs,  you  will  soon  turn  from  him  to  one  of  the. 
finest  statues  m  the  world — Cupid  bending  his  bow.     Its 
unrivalled  grace,  its  faultless  perfection,  and  its  truly  celes- 
tial beauty  of  form,  are  indeed  a.  triumph  of  art..    The. 
Apollo  Belvidere,  and  a  few  other  great  statues  excepted^ 
I  am  disposed  to  think  this  one  of  the  finest  exempHficationa 
of  the  beau-ideal  in  existence.    It  is  an  ancient  copy  from 
the  famous  masterpiece  of  Praxiteles,  of  Cupid  benoing  his 
bow,  which  was  destroyed  in  the  age  of  Titus.    I  have.seen 
one  copy  in  England,  and  there  is  another  in  the  YiUa 
Albani ;  but  this  is  incomparably  the  finest.    It  is  one  of 
the  few  statues  that  I  can  return  to  ^e  at,  day  after  day, 
with  still  increasing  delight  and  admiration.    I  am  no  con- 
noisseur,^— ^but  few,  very  lew,  I  believe,  receive  more  pleasure 
fit)m  works  of  art,  whether  in  painting  or  sculpture,  when. of 
first-rate  excellence. 

I  was  delighted  with  the  beauty  and  pkyfrd  sweetness,  of 
a  smiling  girl  with  a  dove, — ^a  personification  of  Innocence; 
a  child  playing  with  a  mask ;  and,  more  especially,  an: urchin 
struggling  with  a  swan,  which  Winkelman  instancesjas.  a 
peculiarly  beautiful  sculpture  of  infancy; 

One  of  the  finest  hassi  reldevi  in  the  world — ^the;battIe,of 
the  Amazons — ^is  on  a  sarcophagus. in  this  room.  Critics 
all.  agree,, that  the  generality  oi  sarcophagi,, (aud^, indeed. 


Digitized  by 


Google 


THB  DYWQ  GXASIATOB.  79) 

of  bav-rdiefs^  wUch  for  the  most  part  haxe ,  been  cut  out  of 
the  sides  of  sajrcophagi,)  a^^  works  of  the  declining  periods, 
of  art.;  but  this.  beautiM  piece  of  sculoture  is  an  exception. 
Opposite  to  it  stands,  aaother  saccopnagus,  well  worthy  of 
Dotioe,  though  of  very  inferior  sculpture..  It  represents, 
the  noctunm  visits  of  Diana  to  the  sleeping  Endjmion. 
The  goddess  descends .  from  her  car,  led  oj  the  Lgyes,  a: 
winged  Genius  restrains  the  fiery  steeds.  At  the  other 
end,  bj  a  liberty  common  to  basso  relievo,  she  mounts  it, 
again  to  depart,  casting  ba^ck  her  looks  of  love  on  the  un- 
conscious shepherd,  over,  whose  drooping  form  moth-winged; 
dumber  still  hovers,  ^e  Earths—personified  in  a  female 
form,  whose  bust  is  raised  above  the  ground,  beneath  the. 
wheels  of  Diana's  car— and  a  man  tiding  Endymion's  flock^ 
complete  the  composition. 

Hheare  is  a  very  amusing  bas-relief  here  of  the  Triumph 
of  Gtipid  over  the  Gods.  It. seems  to  have  formed  a  part  of 
a  fiieee,  and  is  left  imperfect.  We  see,  first,  a  car  drawn 
hyramS)  in. which  this  roguish  god  is  carrying  off  the  spoils 
of  Mercury;  then  follow,  in  a  car  drawn  by  stags,  those  of 
the  chaste.  Diana  herself;  in  a  car  drawn  by  tigers,  those  of 
Baochus;  and  in  another  drawn  by  hippognfis,  those  of 
ApoUo. 

I  must,  not  quit  this  room,  without  mentioning  a  more 
recondite,  though  less  amusing,  paece  of  antiquity^— the 
table,  of  bronze,  on  which  is  inscribed  the  "  royal  law," 
found  near  St,  John  Lateran's,.  in  which  the  Boman  Senate 
decrees  to  Vespasian  supreme  power. 

You  now  enter  the  last  room,  in  which  you  will,  for  a  long 
time,  see  nothing  but  the  Dying  Gladiator.  It  is,  of  its 
kind,  the  finest  statue  in  the  world.  The  learned  connois- 
seur, and  the  untaught  peasants,  whom  you  may  see  as- 
sembled round  it  on  Sundays,  are  equally  struck  with  its 
&idtless  perfection.  It  is  one  of  the  finest  of  forms,  as  far 
as  mere  corporeal  formation  can  go ;  but,"  unlike  most  of  the 
celebiated  works  of  ancient  art,  there  is  no  ideal  beauty, 
no  expression  of  those  high  qualities  and  attributes,  that 
spring  from  the  soul.  It  is  nature,  pure  nature,  that 
arrests  so  forcibly  our  deepest  sympathy.  It  is  not  a  god 
nor  a  hero,  but  a  man — and  a  man  of  servile  condition  and 
unelevated  mind — ^that  we  behold.    The  coaraeness.  of  the 


Digitized  by 


Google 


80  boms; 

features  and  the  whole  expression  of  the  head  and  figure 
prove  it.  The  hands  and  the  soles  of  the  feet  are  hard  and 
homy  with  labour,  and  a  rope  is  knotted  round  the  neck. 
He  seems  endeavouring  to  suppress  the  expression  of  agjony; 
not  a  sigh,  not  a  ^an  escapes  him ;  unsubdued  in  spirit,  it 
is  his  body,  not  his  mind,  that  yields ;  but  the  hand  of  death 
is  upon  him ;  his  life-blood  trickles  slowly  and  feebly  from 
the  wound  in  his  side ;  he  sinks  in  that  last  dreadful  faint- 
ness  of  ebbing  life,  which  all  must  sooner  or  later  feel.  He 
still  supports  himself  with  difficulty  upon  his  fisdling  arm, 
but  his  Junbs  have  lost  their  force ;  his  bristling  hair  and 
agonized  face,  express  the  dreadful  workings  of  present 
suffering,  and  the  inward  conviction  of  approaching  death. 
He  is  lying  upon  a  shield ;  a  short  sword  or  dagger  beside 
him,  and  a  broken  horn. 

The  critics  say  that  this  statue  cannot  represent  a  gla- 
diator, because,  at  the  period  when  this  great  work  of 
Grecian  art  must  have  been  produced,  Greece  had  no  gla- 
diators, neither  were  the  snield  and  short  sword  that 
lie  by  his  side,  the  proper  arms  for  gladiators ;  and  yet  we- 
know  that  the  Secutores,  in  their  combats  with  the  BetiarUy 
fought  with  swords, — whether  long  or  short  seems  un- 
certain,— and  with  shields, — ^and  why  may  they  not  have 
been  such  as  these?*  The  Dimachoeri  also  fought  with 
two  swords.  The  cord  round  the  neck,  and  the  horn,  sadly 
perplex  the  critics;  but  it  appears  from  an  ancient  Greek 
mscription,  that  the  heralds  of  the  Olympic  Games  had 
a  cord  tied  round  their  necks,  and  gave  the  signal  for 
their  commencement  by  blowing  a  horn ;  nay,  this  very  in- 
scription was  affixed  upon  the  statue  of  a  herald,  who  was 
also  a  victor  in  these  games  ;t  so  that  the  statue  we  now  see 

*  Pliny  says,  the  porticos  of  the  temples  erected  to  the  Claudian  and 
Domitian  families,  were  adorned  with  statues,  the  work  of  a  freedman 
of  Nero,  representing  the  most  celebrated  gladiators  of  those  days. 
The  Apollo  Belvidere  is  now  believed  to  be  a  work  of  the  age  of  Nero; 
and  if  so,  the  same  age  may  have  produced  this  statue,  and  it  may  re- 
present a  barbarian  gladiator,— for  barbarians  were  trained  to  tiieee 
cruel  sports.  Nero's  visit  to  Greece  seems  to  render  this  supposition 
more  probable ;  so  also  does  the  circumstance  of  its  having  been  found 
in  the  same  spot  with  the  Apollo  Belvidere  and  the  Fighting  Gladiator, 
at  Antium,  on  the  site  of  Nero's  favourite  villa. 

t  Winkelmsn,  liv.  vi.  chap. -2,  §  24. 


Digitized  by 


Google 


THE  DYIKG   GLADIATOB.  81 

may  also  combine  both  characters,  and  represent  a  herald 
and  a  wounded  combatant.  The  mustachios,  also,  puzzle 
the  antiquaries ;  for  thej  maintain  that  the  Greeks,  even  in 
the  ancient  times,  when  they  wore  beards,  never  wore  mus- 
tachios;  and  that,  therefore,  this  is  not  a  G^reek,  but  a 
barbarian ; — nay,  some  late  critics  have  maintained,  that  it 
is  a  barbarian  chief, — ^but  the  cord  round  the  throat  is  of 
itself  a  sufficient  re^tation  of  such  an  idea. 

Winkelman  conjectures  that  it  may  represent  Gopreas, 
the  herald  of  Eurysthenes,  '^  the  most  uimous  herald  of 
Grrecian  mythology,"  who  was  massacred  by  the  Athenians 
while  attempting  to  force  away  the  descendants  of  Hercules 
from  the  altar  of  Mercy;  and  for  whose  murder  a  solemn 
feast  of  expiation  continued  annually  to  be  held  at  Athens, 
even  in  the  days  of  Hadrian.  But  as  Copreas  was  a  Greek, 
he  could  not  have  had  whiskers,  and  therefore  this  statue 
camiot  represent  him. 

Indeed,  these  unfortunate  whiskers  come  in  the  way  in 
every  possible  supposition,  excepting  one.  There  was  a 
statue,  celebrated  even  in  the  brightest  period  of  ancient 
sculpture,  the  work  of  Ctesilaiis,*  "  the  statue  of  a  wounded 
and  dying  man."  The  description  t  exactly  answers  to  this 
statue.  This  is  "  a  wounded  and  dyiug  man;" — ^Why  may 
not  this  be  the  statue  ?  It  is  not  probable  that  there  should 
be  two  great  masterpieces  of  ancient  art,  representing  two 
"wounded  or  dying  men;"  or,  if  so,  that  Plmy  would  have 
noticed  one  only.  !Nor  is  it  probable  that  a  sculpture  of 
such  pre-emiuent  excellence  as  this,  should  be  passed  over 
unnoticed  by  Pliny,  Pausanias,  and  aU  the  ancient  writers 
who  have  described  works  of  art;  and  there  is  no  other 
description  iu  any  author  that  can  apply  to  it,  excepting  of 
this  masterpiece  of  Ctesilaiis.  The  style,  too,  answers  to 
that  date. 

I  am  therefore  iadined  to  think  it  probable,  that  this 
statue  is  either  the  original  or  a  fine  ancient  copy  of  the 
famous  "  wounded  and  dyiug  man"  of  Ctesilaiis. J 

•  A  celebrated  Grecian  sculptor,  who  is  supposed  to  have  lived  about 
the  62nd  Olympiad, 
t  Pliny,  Hist.  Nat.  lib.  xxxiv.  cap.  19,  4. 

X  Winkelman's  objection  to  this  supposition  is  worth  stating^  from 
TOL.  II.  G 


Digitized  by 


Google 


82  BOHE. 

But  be  it  what  it  may,  "  the  Dying  GladiatDr"  will'alwya 
be  accounted  one  of  the  finest  nieces  of  sculpture  that  time 
haa  spared.  Statuary  has,  inoee^,  bequeathed  few  of  its 
.ancient  treasures  to  us,  and  we  are  vainly  left  to  regret  tlxat 
only  a  few  scattered  fragments  of  that  heavenly  art 

"  Float  down  the  tide  bf  yesrt, 
As,  baoyant  on  tiie  stonny  main,  , 

A  parted  wreck  appeals."* 

I  must  not  trust  myself  to  describe  the  exquisitely  beau- 
tiful group  of  Cupid  and  Psyche,  which  stands  in  this  room, 
nor  even  to  mention  the  far  inferior,  but  extremely  fine 
statues  with  which  it  is  fiUed :  the  Flora,  which  'Winkelman 
supposes  not  to  be  that  goddess,  but  the  portrait  of  some 
beautiful  womou,  under  the  image  of  Spring, — ^the  Venus, 
the  finest  in  Home, — ^the  Juno, — ^the  beautifiil  Antinoiis,  in 
the  heroic  style, — ^the  Antinoiis  as  an  Egyptian  priest,  or 
rather  deity,  as  worshipped  at  Antinoe,  so  much  extolled 
by  the  critics, — ^and  the  admirable  ancient  copy  of  the  cele- 
brated Faun  of  Praxiteles.  The  head  of  Alexander  the 
Great  has  been  set  on  awry  with  great  care  by  the  restorers, 
in  order  to  prove  it  to  be  his ;  notwithstanding  which,  it  is 
the  fashion  now  to  doubt  it.  For  my  part,  I  fully  beKeve 
it,  because  it  bears  a  strong  resemblance  to  the  ancient 
gems  of  undoubted  authenticity,  and  because  his  is  a  head 
that,  once  seen,  can  never  be  mistaken.    "We  are  told,  that 

Its  absurdity: — "  Je  craia  que  eette  figure  [that  of  the  celebrated  statue 
of  CtesilaUs]  reprSaentoit  un  hdros,  parceque  je  mCimagine  que  I'artisie 
n'auroit  ^pas  voala  degcendre  ^  traiter  des  sujets  d'un  ordre  infSrieur, 
atiendaqae:8on  grand  mSrite  consistoit,  suivant  Pllne^  ft  donner  encore 
plus  de  noblesse  aux  caract^res  nobles/' — Vide  Winkeucan,  1.  vi.  chap* 
2. — Which,  in  plain  English,  is  as  much  as  to  say,  "  Pliny,  indeed* 
'fays  it 'was  the  statue  of  a  wounded  and  dying  man;  but  he  is  wrong 
— he  does  not  mean  what  he  says.  It  must  have  been  the  at&tne 
of  a-'wounded  and  dying  hero ;  because  asCtesilaUs  was  remarkable  for 
giving  great  nobleness  to  noble  figures,  he  never  wx^uld  condescend  to 
make  the  statue  of  a  mere  man.    It  was  not  noble  enough  for  him." 

If  it  had  been  the  statue  of  a  wounded  and  dying  hero,  Pliny  would 
have  said  it  was  the  statue  of  a  wounded  and  dying  hero ;  nay,  he  would 
probably  have  said  of  what  hero.    But  as  he  says  it  was  the  statue  of  a 
**  wounded  and  dying  man,"  I  shall  believe  it. 
*  Sir  Walter  Scott. 


Digitized  by 


Google 


TlJRXETn  OXNTAirBS.  88 

Apelles  onlj  had  tlie  right  of  painting  it,  Lyrippns  of  catt- 
ing it  in  bronze,  Pyrgotelus  of  engraving  it  in  gems ;  but 
bistorj  is  silent  as  to  the  name  of  its  priyileged  scolptor  in 
marble.* 

In  lookiag  back  on  the  contents  of  this  museum,  I  should 
say  that  the  finest  works  it  contains  are  the  Osiris  and  Isis, 
the  Furietti  Centaurs,  the  Professor  of  the  G^ymnastic  Art, 
the  seated  statue  of  Agrippiua,  and  of  the  Camillus,  the 
Child  playing  with  a  Swan,  the  Cupid  bending  his  bow,  the 
Cupid  and  Psyche,  and  above  all  the  Dying  Gladiator  ;t 
together  with  the  noble  marble  vase,  and  its  pedestal;  the 
mosaic  of  the  Eour  Doves,  the  beauly  of  which  was  com- 
memorated by  Pliny;  and  the  bas-reliefs  of  the  dispute 
between  Agamemnon  and  Achilles,  the  Nine  Muses,  and 
the  Battle  of  the  Amazons,  which  are  instanced  by  Win- 
kelman  as  three  out  of  the  six  most  beautiful  bas-ieliefs  in 
the  world. 

*  'Winkelman,  Hist,  de  TArt,  liv.  vi.  chap.  3,  who  quotes  Pliny  in 
Bnpport  of  the'  feet. 

t^I  forgot  tomention  that  this  statue  was  admirably  restored  by 
Hiehael  Angelo.  A  part  of  one  foot  and  arm,  one  hand,  and  some 
other  minuter  morsels,  are  replaced  in  the  true  spirit  of  the  original, 
It  is  said  to  have  been  found  at  Nettuno,  or  Antium,  in  the  same  spot 
where  the  Apollo  was  discovered;  and,  like  it,  probably  adorned  Nero's 
&vourite  viUa.  There,  also,  was  found  the  Boighese,  or  Fighting 
Gladiator. 


G  2 


Digitized  by 


Google 


-81  BOMl. 


LETTEE  LrX. 


The  Paiktikgs  ajstd  the  Palazzo  de'  Coksebvatoei 
IN  THE  Capitol — ^Academy  or  St.  LrKB — ^Raphael's 
St.  Luke — Eaphael's  Skttll. 

Peom  the  Museum  of  Sculpture,  at  the  Capitol,  we  must 
now  proceed  to  that  of  Paiiitmg,  which  is,  however,  of  very 
inferior  interest.  It  is  contained  in  the  opposite  Palazzo 
de'  Conservatori,*  in  which  are  also  some  remarkable  anti- 
quities. Crossing  the  Piazza  by  the  Equestrian  Statue  of 
Marcus  AureHus,  we  enter  the  court.  All  here  reminds  us 
of  the  grandeur  of  ancient  Eome.  Opposite  to  us  sits 
Eome  triumphant.  At  her  feet  weeps  a  captive  province. 
By  her  side  stand  two  prisoner  barbarian  kings :  their  muti- 
lated limbs  bear  dreadful  proof  of  her  own  barbarism ;  for 
it  is  evident,  on  inspection,  that  they  represent  captives 
whose  hands  have  been  cut  off.f 

*  The  Conservatori  are  officers  appointed  to  keep  the  streets,  roads, 
publip  buildings,  &c.,  in  proper  repair  and  order.  They  seem,  in  some 
degree,  to  fulfil  the  office  of  the  ancient  ^diles.  They  sometimes  give 
great  public  feasts  at  the  Capitol,  to  the  cardinals  and  nobility,  as  if  in 
imitation  of  those  which  were  formerly  offered  up  here  to  Jupiter  and 
the  gods,  but  really  eaten  by  the  priests  and  the  senators. 

f  One  of  them  has  been  cut  off  above  the  elbow,  the  other  at  the 
wrist.  They  are  smooth  and  polished,  and  the  drapery  touches  them  so 
closely,  that  it  is  evident  they  were  originally  formed  so.  According 
to  Winkelman,  (lib.  vi.  cap.  5),  they  represent  Thracian  kings,  of  a 
people  called  Scordtsci,  and  in  the  note  it  is  asserted,  on  the  authority 
of  Florus,  that  the  Bomans  cut  off  the  hands  of  all  their  Thracian  pri- 
soners, and  sent  them  back  into  their  own  country,  to  strike  its  inha- 
bitants with  terror.  It  is  also  recorded,  that  Quintus  Fabius  Mazimus 
cut  off  the  hands  of  all  the  Roman  deserters  in  Sicily.—  VcU.  Max.  lib. 
ii.  cap.  7. 

We  shudder  at  such  horrors;  and  while  we  see  that  the  most 
civilized  of  Pagan  states  far  surpassed  in  cruelty  the  most  barbarous  of 
Christian  nations,  we  bless  the  divine  spirit  of  that  religion  which  has 
worked  the  change. 


Digitized  by 


Google 


BOBTSAii  coLviar.  86 

^e  court  is  strewed  with  fragments  of  colossal  figures  of 
gods  and  emperors,  of  the  most  enormous  size.  CfBsar  and 
Augustus  stand  entire.  At  the  bottom  of  the  staircase  is 
placed  the  modem  imitation  of  that  ancient  Bostral  Column 
of  Gains  Duilins  in  the  Eorum,  that  commemorated  the 
first  naval  triumph  Some  ever  obtained.  A  portion  of  the 
ancient  inscription,  which  was  found  in  making  an  excava- 
tion, is  fixed  m  it.  The  whole  was  done  under  the  direction 
of  Michael  Angelo.  While  this  reminds  us  of  the  early- 
days  of  EepubHcan  glory,  and  the  reHevo  of  Curtius  plung- 
ing into  the  gulf  recalls  the  great  sacrifices  of  Soman 
patriotism, — the  beautiful  sculptures  from  the  Triumphal 
Arch  of  Marcus  Aurelius  commemorate  one  of  the  proudest 
periods  of  her  empire,  and  of  those  wide-extended  conquests 
that  subdued  the  world. 

We  observed  two  Egyptian  idols,  similar  to  those  in  the 
opposite  court,  and  a  remarkably  fine  animal  group,  of 

'     ^     '    ful 


Trecian  sculpture — a  lion  springing  on  the  back  of  a  horse ; 
its  fangs  closed  in  the  back  of  the  animal.  Though  now 
defective,  it  is  said  to  have  been  restored  by  Michael  Angelo, 
who  admired  it  particularly. 

An  ugly  and  headless  image  of  a  monk^  in  basalt  in  this 
court,  bears  an  impudent  inscription  in  dreek,  that  "  Phi- 
dias, and  Ammomcus,  the  son  of  Phidias,  made  it" — and 
Winkelman,  though  he  acknowledges  the  inscription  has 
every  mark  of  being  a  forgery,  and  that  the  sculpture  of  the 
monkey  itself  is  "  meprisable,^^  yet,  having  got  an  idea  into 
his-  h^kd,  that  a  colony  of  Greeks  once  established  them- 
selves in  a  part  of  Africa,  so  infested  by  monkeys  that  they 
took  the  name  of  "  Orecs  Fiihecusins,^^  he  next  supposes 
tiiat  they  took  to  worshipping  monkeys ;  and,  finally,  arrives 
at  the  preposterous  conclusion,  that  this  frightful  object 
was  made  by  Phidias,  for  an  object  of  adora^on  to  these 
same  "  Qrecs  Fitheeusim,''*  However,  it  appears  that 
liiere  never  were  a^iy  such  Greeks ;  and  that  Diodorus  Sicu- 
lus  only  says,  such  a  name  would  have  suited  the  barbarous 
inhabitants  of  that  monkey-infested  and  monkey-worship- 

*  *' Je  sais  done  port^ll  eroire  que  le  singe  dn  Capitole  a  6i4  an  objet 
de  la  v6n6nktion  des  Grecs  Pithecnsms.— JETm^.  -de  VArt,  lib.  iv.  cap.  6. 
§  68.     •  . 


Digitized  by 


Google 


$6  noMEi 

ping  country,*  not  that  they  actually  assumed  it,  much  teas 
that  they  were  Grreeks.  The  colossal  head  and  hand,  of 
hronze  in  this  court,  are  erroneously,  reputed  to  he  fmg* 
ments  of  a  statue  of  Gommodus.. 

After  ascending  the  staircase,  we  pasa  tlirou^h  two  iX)ojns^ 
and  in  the  third,  which  is  adorned  wit^  a  fine  meze,  painted 
by  Daniel  di  Yolterra,  representing  the  Triumph  of  Marius^ 
we  find  the  bronze  statue  of  the  W  olf  and  T^inns,  supposed 
to  h&  i^e  same  which  Cicero  states  to  have  been,  struck/!^, 
lightning,  ou:  the  Capitol^  previous  to  the  murderi  of  Jidiu» 
Cs^sar.  This  Wolf,  nowever,  (for  the  Twins  are  modem,) 
was  found  at  the  Church  of  St.  Theodore,  in  the  Forum: 
below.  It  has  a  fracture  in  the  inside  of  the  hind  leg,  but 
it  seems  to  me  almost  impossible  that  the  lightning  Siould 
have  struck  it  in  such  a  part,  and  in  no  other..  TSs  WoJf 
is  one  of  th^  few  genuine  productions  of  Etruscan  art  which 
remain  to  our  days.  It  may  be  of  very,  high  antiquily:,.  fos 
even  &om  the  beginning,  Kome  waa  adorned  with  statues 
of  bronze:  a  fact  curious,  not  merel^^.asi proving  the  eodyi 
period  at.  which  the  fine  arts  had  atttoned:  to  this;  degree  o£ 
perfection  in  Italv,  but  the  refinement  o£  tiie  people>.w4^Qy 
in  the  in£Emcy  of  society,  sou^t.  those  embelashmeinW.  of 
sculpture  which  are  usually  the  latest  appendages*  of  drili'-^ 
zation  and  ^lished  lile<  The  statue  of  xUanulus,  .(^rown^d 
by  Victory,  in. a  triumphal  car.  drawn;  by  four.  h<waes:;t  «nd 
the  statues  iOf  the  successive  Kings  of  Jbome  in  the:  Capitol ;. 
the  statue  of  Horatius  Cocl^s^  in  the  Eorum^.  woii  th^ 
^Equestrian  statue  of  Clelia§.  in  the*  Via>  Sacra,. 'were i  can?* 
tempararyr  with  the  persons,  in  whose,  honour-  they  weres 
erected^  and  several  of  them  were  still  standing)  and  atiU- 
admiredt  in  the:  ages  of  Augustus  Ij;  and  of  FlixQf«.%  They^ 
were  aIl.of  bronze,  and  undoubtedly,  all  executed  by  Etruscan; 
artii^..  The  bronze  colossal  statue,  of  ApoUo^  made  finm- 
the  helmets  and  cuirasses,  of  tiie  conqu^sed  Samnites,^waa. 
even  l^ought  worthy  ta  adorn  the^  lifarm7&(tf;the,tea^iofi 
Auguatusi** 

*  Tide  Note  2d,  to  §  64.  cap.  6. 1:  it.  Htet  dh  TArt 
t  Dionys.  Halic  1.  u».iy..U^«.  it^Xdon^.U.iv,  I).  22iU, 

§  Id^m,  1»  V.  p.  28i.  ii.  Soa.  CfifusplAU  adMacciain* 

K  Plin.  Ub.  84.  •♦  Plin.  Ub.  84,  cap.  6. 


Digitized  by 


Google 


YABTI  OOSBTTLAXEB.  WT 

The beantSfbl' lAroQze  statue  of  Mfenrtnu  the Bhispbeidboj' 
pulling^  the  thorn  oulrof  his  fbot,  and  ike.  figure  of  one  of 
die  Camillij  are  admirable,  but  thej  are  tiie.only  sculptures 
in  the  room  worth-  notice,  unless.  70U  wisk  to  aee  the  pre- 
tended hustf  of  the  elder  Brutus^  the  liberator  of  Bome, 
Btonding  by  that  of  Julius  CaMsrv  its  enaliirer« 

The  next  room  isalmoet  entirely:  occupied  with  the  Pasti. 
Qensulares — the  suooeseion  of  consuls,  fi>und  near  the  three 
oolUmns  of  the  Comitium,  in  the  Eonun. 

In  the  fifth  chamber  you  aie  shown  two  ancient  broncee, 
said  to  be  of  the  Sacred  Geese,  whose,  clamour  awakooied 
ManliuET,  and  preserved  Borne  from  the  Gaula;  which  re- 
nunded  us  that  Borne,  on  the  same  spot,*  was  betrayed  <  by> 
ft  woman,  and  saved  by  a  goose;  but  these  geese  on  more, 
aoemnte  inerpeotion  turn  out  to  be  ducks. 

The  Medusa's  Head,  by  Bevnini,  a.  piece  of  sculpture: 
generally  much  admired^  is  here.  The  portrait  of  Michael 
Anselo,  by  himself,  is  extremely  interesting,  although  soma 
doubt  has  l&tely  been  thrown  on  its  authenticity.  There  is 
a>  Holy  Family,  by  Giulio  Bomano,  said  to  be  very  fine ;  but: 
the  light  is  so  had^  I  have  neiner  yet  been  able  to.  see  it.. 
There  is  (one  of  the  many  absurdities  of  Boman  Museums)/ 
a'  bust;  said  to  be  of  Appius  ClaudiuB  (the  blind,)  in  rosso 
anl^oa-^  material  whoUy^  unknown  to:  the.  Bomansin  his: 
simple  republican  age. 

The  fneze  of  the  sixth  chamber  is  painted  in  firesoo,  by 
Anmbale  Caraed,  wilh  the  achievements  of  Scipio ;  and  the 
last  chamber  is  painted'  in  ftesco  by  Fietro  Pernio,  and 
adorned' with  two  unknown  statues,  christened  Cicero,  and 
Virgil. 

In  the  little  chapel  beyond,  a  fresco  of  the  Btemal  Father, 
in' the  ceilings  by  Annibale  Caraoci,  and  the  Altar^dece  byj 
Avanzino  Nemi,  are  worth  notice. 

These  paintings  in  this  palace,  which  fiU  three  rooms, 
have  been  the  most  ill-used  collection,  that  ever  was  made ; 
and  though  really  the  works  of  some  of  the.  best  maatera, 
Ihey  present  the  most  black,  battered,  and  forhinL  i^peaxy 
ance,,  that  can  w^  be;  imaged.    A  little,  cleaning,  and 

*'Th»  Tarpeian  rook,  widoU.  xeoeiTediUriianie.  froiB.ib«{treaohe)7  of 
Tarpeia. 


Digitized  by 


Google 


88  SOME. 

Tarmsli*  midit  do  somethmg  for  them ;  but  many  of  them 
are  irreparably  injured.  There  are  some,  iadeeiy  the  de* 
fltruction  of  whicn  excites  little  regret.  Amongst  these 
maj,  perhaps,  be  reckoned  the  large  and  laboured  produc- 
tions of  Pietro  da  Cortona,  which  abound  here ;  though  hia 
Triumph  of  Bacchus  is  a  pretty  composition,  rich,  yarious, 
and  classical.  His  Eape  of  the  Sabines,  Death  of  Darius, 
&c.  have  also  considersible  merit.  It  is  the  fashion  to  czy 
him  down  so  immercifully,  that  nobody  will  even  look  at  his. 
works ;  and  I  must  own  I  never  had  any  great  pleasure  in 
them  mpelf,  nor  have  I  the  smallest  desire  to  vindicate 
him  from  the  opprobrium  he  labours  under  so  justly,  of 
being;  the  first  corrupter  of  painting,  the  beginner  of  that 
rapid  descent  we  have  since  made  down  the  hill  of  taste. 
Still  I  think  he  is  too  outrageously  viMed ;  and  I  am  sure 
that,  however  inferior  he  may  be  to  the  great  masters  who 
preceded  him,  Italy  can  produce  no  artist  now  to  compare 
with  him. 

His  productions  have  certainly  some  learning,  but  little 
taste  or  genius.  We  can  point  out  no  glaring  £siults  in 
design  or  composition,  but  we  feel  the  absence  of  that  which 
constitutes  perfection.  He  draws  good  figures,  but  they 
want  ejroression.  He  breathes  no  interest,  no  soul,  no 
oharm  ot  nature,  or  ideal  beauty  into  them.  His  colouring 
wants  truth,  and  his  lights  effect. 

Let  us  turn  from  them  to  Foussin's  Triumph  of  Flora, 
which,  faded  and  injured  as  it  is,  is  still  a  most  beautiful 
composition.  His  Orpheus  playing  on  the  Lyre,  surrounded 
by  Nymphs  and  Loves,  is  extremely  fine,  yet  has  some  faults 
of  execution  which  seldom  occur  in  so  careful  a  master. 

Domenichino's  Sibyl  is  a  masterpiece  of  pamting.  Its 
rival,  the  Sibyl  of  Guercino,  has  not  the  same  nigh  character 
of  inspiration  in  the  beaming  eye  and  the  half-sundered  lip. 
She  is  at  rest,  unmoved  by  those  stormy  passions,  and  that 
shuddering  sense  of  coming  evils,  which  are  the  curse  of 
the  prophetic  spirit.  But  there  is  in  her  eye  that  settled 
sadness  natural  to  one  who  can  penetrate  the  darkness  of 

*  Since  the  publication  of  the  first  editions  of  this  work,  the  author 
has  been  informed,  that  the  paintings  in  this  galleiy  have  been  recently 
cleaned  and  re-arranged. 


Digitized  by 


Google 


ACABEKT  07  ST.  LTHOB.  89 

futurity,  and  see  all  its  crimes  and  sottowb.    Like  most  of 
the  others,  this  beautiful  painting  has  been  much  injured. 

Guidons  Bacchus  and  Ariadne  is  unfinished,  and  it  would, 
perhaps,  have  been  quite  as  weU  for  his  fame  if  it  had  never 
been  begun.  The  drawing  is  bad,  and  the  colouring  worse. 
We  must  suppose  it  one  of  the  manj  paintings  which  he 
dashed  off  to  paj  his  gambling  debts.  His  ''Beatified 
Spirit,"  is  far  superior,  vet  still  it  seems  to  want  something 
of  celestial  and  glorified  beauty,  that,  in  his  happier  mo- 
ments, he  could  have  given  it.  His  St.  Sebastian,  though 
extremely  fine,  is  inferior  to  that  at  the  Colonna  Fala^. 
A  clever  gipsy,  telling  a  siQy  youth  his  fortune,  at  the  same 
time  she  is  cheating  him  out  of  it,  is  one  of  Caravaggio's 
admirable  productions.  It  is  much  injured,  and  not  quite 
so  good  as  a  duplicate  I  have  somewhere  seen  of  it.  He 
ought  never  to  have  painted  any  but  such  subjects  as  these. 

A  beautiful  Holy  Family,  by  Benvenuto  Garofalo;  an- 
other, very  smaU,  by  Albano— the  Sick  Man  waiting  by  the 
Pool  for  the  moving  of  the  Waters,  a  beautiful  little  com- 
position by  Domemchino — ^a  Landscape  by  the  same — ^the 
Kape  of  Europa,  by  Paul  Veronese,  nearly  invisible  fix)m 
dirt  and  injury,  but  reminding  me,  through  it  aU,  of  his 
splendid  Europa  in  the  Doge's  palace  at  Venice — ^Agostino 
Caracd's  Communion  of  St.  Jerome,  diminished  fix>m  his 
great  painting  at  Bologna;  these,  and  several  more,  by 
Q-uercino,  A.  Caracci,  fVancesco  Mola,  Ac.  are  well  worth 
your  attention;  but  I  wiQ  spare  you  any  further  enume- 
ration of  them. 

I  must,  however,  when  here,  carry  you  down  iuto  the 
Porum  to  the  Academy  of  St.  Luke.  This  society  of  sculp- 
tors, painters,  architects,  and  engravers — of  all,  in  short, 
who  practise  the  arts  of  design,  male  and  female, — ^possess 
for  their  Academy  two  mean,  unimposing-looking  apart- 
ments, behind  the  church  of  their  patron  saint.  One  of 
them  is  filled  with  models,  desi£;ns,  &c.  some  of  which  are 
by  Michael  Angelo ;  the  other  by  a  collection  of  painters, 
chiefly  composed  of  the  works  of  the  modem  Boman  artists, 
and  therefore  not  pre-eminent  in  their  merit.  The  speci- 
mens of  the  great  masters,  which  chiefly  consist  of  a  few 
little  Claudes,  Salvator  Eosas,  Foussins,  &c.  &c,  Slc,,  are  by 
no  means  first-rate. 


Digitized  by 


Google 


90  BOICE. 

The  famous  picture  in  this  Acsdem^r  is,  however,  Raphael's 
St.  Luke  painting  the  Yirffin's  Portrait.*  In  this-  adnurable 
work,  Eaphael  has  realiised  his  own  conceptions  of  an  artist. 
St.  Luke  has  all  the  fire,  the.  riow,  the<  inspiration^  of  com- 
manding genius.  It  struck  me  with  the  most  extraordinary 
admiration  the  first  thne  I  beheld  it.  I  was  then  fiesh  ftom 
iESngland,  where,  excepting  the  Cartoons,  I  had  seen  nothing 
worthy  of  the  name  of  Uaphael — ^none  of  the  tareasures  of 
his  genius  which  Kome  contains,  and  I  actually  dreamt  of 
this  figure. 

The  skull  of  Baphael  is  pres^^ed  here,  under  a-  glass 
case!  I  suppose  tms  musi^  be  a  transporting  sight  tb 
Sdiessrs,  Gail  and  Spurzheim,  and  all  their  disciples,  but  to 
me  it  was  rather  a.  shocking  one.  I  had  no  pleasure  in 
viewing  the  eyeless  sockets,  the  grinning  mouth,  the  moul* 
deriug  vacant  bones,  that  once  beamed  with  intelligence  and 
beaaily — and  hearing  that  this  was  BaphaeL 

*  Originally  the  altar-pieoe  in  thfi  Ghiirch;of  St.  Luke; 


Digitized  by 


Google 


TF- 


V" 


Digitized  by 


Google 


APAKTMrNT     IN    A    ROMAN     PALACE 

Digitized  by  VjOOQ IC 


PALAZZO  SOBIA.  91 


I.ETTBB  LX. 

BOMAK  FAI1AGB&— 'FAUkSZO  DOSIA. 

PAitAOSB,  to  an  lEbgUsh  ear,  conv«j  an  idea  of  all  that  the. 
imaginatkni'  caa  figure-  (xf  elegance  and  splendour.  But, 
after  a  certain  resid^ice  in  Ituy,  eren  this  obstinate  earij 
associatioii  is  conquered,  and  the  word  immediatdy  brings  to 
our  mind  images  of  dirt,  neglect,  and  decay.  The  palaces 
of  Borne  are  innumerable;  but  then  erery  gentleman's  house* 
is  a  paiaoe, — ^I  shbidd'say,  every  nobleman's,  for  there  are 
no  gentleman  in  Italy  except  noblemen  ;•  society  being,  as  of 
old,  dxrided  into  two  classes,  the^ patricians  and  the  plebeians: 
but  though  eveiy  gentleman  is  a  nobleman,  I  am  sorry  to 
say,  every  nobleman^  i$  not  a  gentleman;  neither  would 
many-  of  their  palaces  be  considered'  by  any  means  fit  resi- 

.     Thele  •  • 


dences  for  genllemen<  in  our  cotintry.  The  legitimate  appli- 
cation: of  the  wordj  which^  with  i^s,  is  confined  to  a  buildmg 
forming  a  quadrangle,  and  enclosing  a  court  within  itself,  is 
by  no  means  adhered  to  here.  Every  house  that,  has  &  parte 
wekere^  and  many  that  have  not,  are  called  palaces ;  and,  in 
short,  under  that  high-sounding  appellation,  are  compre- 
hended places  whose  wretchedness  w  surpasses  the  utmost 
stretch  of  an  English  imagination  to  conceive. 

Borne,  howevOT,  contams  real:  paiftces,  whose  magnitude 
and  magnificence^  are  astonisking  to  trancidpine  eyes ;  but 
their  taateless  architecture  is  idore  astonishing  stiU. 

Though  they  have  the  ^at  names  of  Michael  Angelo, 
Bramante,  Yerospi,  Bemimj  Sito*  &Q.  among  their  architects; 
though  they  are  built  of  ixavertine  stone,  which,  whether 
viewed  with  the  deepened  hues  of  age  in  the  Cok^seum,  or 
iiie^briffhtnesB  of  recent  finish  in  St.  Peter'^,  is,  I  think,  by 
&ir  the  finest  material  for  building'  in  the  -■  world;  andthoug^, 
from  i^e  grandeur  of  their  scale,  and  the  prodigidity  (A  their 
decoration,  tbey.  admitted  of  grand  Gond)ination8)  and  strik-^* 


Digitized  by 


Google 


92  BOHS. 

ing  effect,  jet  tbey  are  lamentably  destitute  of  architectural 
beauty  in  the  exterior ;  and  in  the  interior,  though  they  are 
filled  with  vast  ranges  of  spacious  apartments,  though  the 
polished  marbles  and  precious  spoils  of  antiquity  have  not 
oeen  spared  to  embellish  them,  tnough  the  genius  of  paint- 
ing has  made  them  '^er  modem  temples,  and  sculpture 
adorned  them  with  the  choicest  remains  of  ancient  art,  yet 
they  are,  generally  speaking,  about  the  most  incommodious, 
unenviable,  uncomfortable  dwellings,  you  can  imagine. 

I  know  it  may  be  said,  that  comrort  in  England  and  in 
Italy  is  not  the  same  thing ;  but  it  never  can  consist  in 
dulness,  dirt,  and  dilapidation,  any  where.  Italian  comfort 
may  not  require  thick  carpets,  warm  fires,  or  close  rooms ; 
but  it  can  be  no  worse  of  clean  floors,  commodious  furniture, 
and  a  house  in  good  repair. 

In  habitations  of  sucn  immense  size  and  costly  decorations 
as  these,  you  look  for  libraries,  baths,  music-rooms,  and  every 
appendage  of  refinement  and  luxury;  but  these  things  are 
rarely  to  be  found  in  Italian  palaces.  If  they  were  arranged 
and  kept  up,  indeed,  with  any  thing  of  English  propriety,, 
consistency,  order,  or  cleanliness,  many  of  them  would  oe 
noble  habitations ;  but,  in  the  best  of  them,  you  see  a  bar- 
renness, a  neglect,  an  all-prevailing  look  of  misery — defi- 
ciencies every  where — and  contemptu>le  meannesses  adhering 
to  grasping  magnificence.  But  nothing  is  so  offensive  as 
the  dirt.  Among  all  the  palaces,  there  is  no  such  thing  as  a. 
palace  of  cleanliness.  You  see  (and  that  is  not  the  worst)  you 
smell  abominable  dunghills,  heaped  up  against  the  walls  of 
splendid  palaces,  and  foul  heaps  of  ordure  and  rubbish  defil- 
ing their  columned  courts ;  you  ascend  noble  marble  stair- 
cases, whose  costly  materials  are  invisible  beneath  the  accu- 
mulated filth  that  covers  them;  and  you  are  sickened  with 
the  noxious  odours  that  assail  you  at  everj  turn.  You  pass 
through  long  suites  of  ghastly  rooms,  with  a  few  crazy  old 
tables  and  chairs,  thinly  scattered  through  them,  and  behold 
around  you  nothing  but  gloom  and  discomfort. 

The  custom  of  abandoning  the  ground-floor  to  menial  pur- 
poses, except  when  used  for  shops,  which  is  almost  universal 
throughout  Italy,  and  covering  its  windows,  both  for  security 
and  economy,  with  a  strong  iron  grate  without  any  glass  > 


Digitized  by 


Google 


BOMAK  SOCIETT.  9d 

behind  it,  contributes  to  give  the  bouses  and  palaces  a 
wretched  and  dungeon-like  appearance. 

It  is  no  uncommon  thing  K)r  an  Italian  nobleman  to  go 
up  into  the  attics  of  his  own  palace  himself,  and  to  let  the 
principal  rooms  to  lodgers.  !nx)ud  as  he  is,  he  thinks  this 
no  degradation ;  though  he  would  spurn  the  idea  of  allowing 
his  sons  to  follow  any  profession  save  that  of  arms  or  of  the 
church.  He  would  sooner  see  them  dependants,  flatterers, 
eaves-droppers,  spies,  gamblers,  cavalieri  servenHy  polite 
rogues  of  anj  kind,  or  even  beggars,  than  honest  merchants^ 
lawyers,  or  physicians. 

Gfhe  Fiano  ralace  has  its  lower  story  let  out  into  shops, 
and  its  superior  ones  occupied  by  about  twenl^  different 
funilies;  among  which  the  duke  and  duchess  live,  in  a  comer 
of  their  own  palace. 

It  is  the  same  case  with  more  than  half  the  nobles  of 
Eome  and  Naples.  But  the  Doria,  the  Borghese,  and  the 
Colonna,  possess  enough  of  their  ancient  wealth  to  support 
their  hereditary  dignity,  and  their  immense  palaces  are  filled 
only  with  their  own  fiamilies  and  dependants.  Not  but  that, 
though  lodgings  are  not  let  at  the  Doria  Palace,  butter  is 
regularly  sold  there  every  week,  which,  inEngland,  would  seem 
rather  an  extraordinary  trade  for  one  of  the  first  noblemen 
in  the  land  to  carry  on  in  his  own  house.  Yet  this  very 
butter-selling  prince  looks  down  with  a  species  of  contempt 
upon  a  great  British  merchant. 

Commerce  seems  to  be  no  longer  respected  in  Italy — ^not 
even  in  Florence,  where  its  reigning  princes  were  merchants. 
■Yet  the  proudest  Florentine  noblemen  sell  wine  by  the 
flask,  at  their  own  palaces.  I  wonder  the  profits  of  this 
little  huckstering  trade  never  induced  them  to  think  of 
entering  into  larger  concerns,  that  they  might  have  larger 
returns.  I  wonder  it  never  led  them  to  remember,  that 
commerce  was  the  source  of  the  modem  prosperity  of  Italy. 
But  commerce  cannot  exist  without  jfreedom ;  a  truth  that 
princes  and  people  have  yet  to  learn  here. 

The  palaces  of  all  the  ancient  Eoman  nobiHty  have,  in 
the  entrance  hall,  a  crimson  canopy  of  state,  beneath  which 
the  prince  sits  on  a  raised  throne  to  receive  his  vassals, 
hear  their  complaints,  redress  their  grievances,  and  admi- 


Digitized  by 


Google 


94  •   BOHB. 

nister  jufitilse.  Perhaps  I  ought  to  spc^k  in  the  pa«t,  rather 
than  the  present  tense;  but  thej  still  exercise  a  sort  of 
.feudal  jurisdiction  over  their  numerous  tenantiy,  among 
whom'their  willfis  k^. 

Above  the  door  of  eyery  palace,  upon  the  escutcheon  of 
the  family  arms,  we  seldom  £ul  to  see^-^^u  if  in  mockery-^ 
the  S.  P.  Q.  R;— "  The  Senate  and  Boman  People,*'  serving 
only  to  swell  the  state  of  a  poor  Italian  Oonde  or  Marchese. 

The  galleiy  of  the  Horia  Palace  is  reputed  to  be  one  of 
the  best  collections  of  paintings  in  Italy.  It  is  more  certain 
that  it  is  one  of  the  largest.  For,  along  with  some  very- 
good  paintings,  there  are  a  great  many  very  bad ;  so  bad, 
that  while  the  revered  names  of  the  greatest  masters  are 
sounding  in  your  ears,  you  involuntarily  turn  away  with 
indifference  or  disgust. 

The  whole  of  one  very  lar^  room  is  filled  with  very  large 
paintings  by  Ghaspar  Poussm.  I  mention  their  size  first, 
because  I  really  think  it  is  their  chief  merit.  They  are 
among  the  earliest  and  least  excellent  of  that  profound  and 
learned  master.  They  seem  to  have  been  executed  with 
lightning  rapidity,  with  the  impatient  haste  of  a  man  that 
is  conscious  of  powers  not  yet  fully  developed,  and  hurrieb 
through  an  irksome  task  that  he  may  be  at  leisure  to 
mature  them  by  study. 

Graspar  was  a  servant  in  the  Doria  family.  He  was  not  a 
TVenchman,  as  is  generally  supposed,  but  a  Roman  of  low 
condition  and  'untutored  mind.  His  real  name  was  Dughet, 
but  he  afterwards  assumed  the  name  of  his  brother-in-law, 
Nicolas  Poussin,  who,  it  is  weU  known,  came  in  youth  to 
Rome,  and  finished  his  life  there. 

Beside  this  room-full,  there  are  two  landscapes  by  Gaspaar 
and  one  by  Nicolas  Poussin,  said  to  be  very  fine,  but  in 
lights  so  bad,  that  I  never  yet  could  succeed  in  seeing 
them. 

Of  the  five  Claudes— the  "Molino"  and  the  "Tempio 
d'ApoUo,'*  are  exquisitely  beautiftd,  and  indisputably  the 
finest  Italy  now  possesses,  though  they  are  surpassed  by 
several  in  England,  whither  the  talisman  of  wealth  has 
transported  the  master-pieces  which  its  sullen  skies  forbid 
it  to  create. 


Digitized  by 


Google 


DOBIA  eAXLEBT.  05 

The  '*  Holino ''  is  the  most  admired  jby  comioisaeurs ;  but 
I  am  not  a  comibisBeur^  oiid  I  am  afiraid  the  composition  jci 
the  Temple,  on  "theiwhole,  pleased  me  the  most. 

Bomenichino's  thise  landscapes  are  original  and  adnmv 
able.  This  artist,  Titian,  and  Eubens,  have  proved  to  ns,  in 
their  works,  that  they  could  have  been  great  masters  in 
landscape,  if  they  had  not  chosen  to  be  greater  in  historical 
painting. 

How  strikingly  do  the  beauty  of  the  landscapes,  in  the 
Communion  of  St.  Jerome,  and  the  Murder  of  Peter  the 
JMartyr,*  add  to  the  effect  of  the  painting ! 

The  '*  Belisarius  *'  of  Salvator  Bosa,  though  the  subject 
seems  well  adapted  to  his  wild  and  gloomy  genius,  is  yet 
by  no  means  the  happiest  of  his  productions.  His  charac- 
teristic faults,  especially  of  colourmg,  are  more  than  usually 
apparent,  and  it  possesses  fe^er  of  his  redeeming  beauties. 
It  is  too  black,  too  heavy,  dull,  and  exaggerated — Nature  is 
not  faithfully  copied,  nor  pleasingly  heightened;  nor,  after 
all  these  sacrifices  to  obtain  it,  is  there  true  sublimii?|r.  The 
attempt  to  combine  historical  with  landscape  paintmg,  has 
not  been  successM  here;  their  defects,  rather  than  their 
beauties,  are  mingled;  the  interest  is  too  much  divided 
between  the  hero  and  the  scene,  and  we  have  neither  a 
landscape  nor  a  historical  piece. 

AnnJJbale  Oaracci  has,  I  think,  succeeded  better  in  the 
same  perilous  undertaking.  His  is  a  small  but  beautifully 
composed  landscape,  in  the  foreground  of  which,  a  Magdalen 
is  extended,  at  the  root  of  an  aged  tree,  in  all  the  aban- 
donment of  solitude  and  despair.  Her  uplifted  eyes  and 
clasped  hands  any  painter  could  have  designed;  but  who 
could  have  made  the  paleness  of  the  cheek,  the  quivering 
Kp,  and  the  tears  that  tremble  in  the  glistening  eye,  speak 
so  forcibly  to  the  heart?  Annibale  Caracci  seldom  ad- 
dresses himself  so  directly  to  the  feelings.  He  commands 
our  approbation,  he  satisfies  our  judgment,  he  improves  our 
understanding ;  but  the  strong  expression  of  the  passions, 
the  agony  of  grief;  terror,  pitjr,  supplication,  and  pathos,  he 
has  left  to  those  who  formea  themselves  upon  his  instruc- 
tions— to  Guide,  Domenichino,  and  Guercino. 

*  At  the  Church  of  St.  John  and  Si  Paul,  at  Venice. 


Digitized  by 


Google 


96  BOHX. 

His  La  Fiethy  or  the  Virgin  and  the  Dead  Christ,  will 
be  £ur  more  praised  and  valued  than  this  little  Magdalen  in 
the  Deserts.  It  is  safer  from  criticism,  it  has  far  fewer 
fiiults,  and  beauties  of  a  higher  stamp.  But  is  it  not  cold 
and  dead?  Is  there  no  want  of  interest,  no  absence  of 
feeling  and  expression,  in  that  piece  of  correct  design  and 
pure  composition  ? 

La  Fieta  is  a  subject  which  artists  seem  inyariablj  to 
treat  with  established  insensibility ;  yet,  surely,  in  a  mother 
embracing  the  lifeless  corpse  of  a  son  torn  irom  her  by  a 
premature  and  ignominious  death,  there  should  be  more  of 
grief,  of  tenderness,  of  melting  pity,  and  maternal  love,  than 
we  ever  see  in  those  placid,  inanimated,  and  undisturbed 
Madonnas ;  not  to  mention  the  feelings  of  her  who  was  the 
mother  of  the  crucified  Saviour  of  the  world.  But  I  must 
get  on  faster  through  this  long  gallery,  or  you  will  tire  by 
the  way. 

Q-uerdno's  Magdalen,  Caravaggio's  Magdalen,  Cignani's 
Magdalen,  Murillo's  Magdalen,  and  Titian's  Magdalen,  all 
differ  widely  from  each  other,  and  are  all  fine  paintings  in 
their  way,  though  Guercino's  only  has  the  character  of  a 
Magdalen.  As  for  Titian,  though  an  excellent  painter » of 
youth  and  beauty,  he  had  no  notion  of  penitence  or  pathos ; 
and  this  Magdalen,  like  all  his  others,  is  a  fine,  fat,  comely 
young  creature,  who  differs  in  no  respect  from  the  picture  of 
his  unrepentant  mistress,  that  hangs  up  here.  His  Sacrifice 
of  Isaac  is  his  chief  work  in  this  gallery ;  but  it  is  not  one 
of  his  great  masterpieces.  Tou  wQl  admire  his  portrait  of 
the  great  Andrew  Dona,  for  the  sake  of  the  man  as  well  as 
the  painter,  and  you  will  be  delighted  with  that  exquisite 

fainting,  said  to  be  Luther  and  Calvin,  and  St.  Catherine, 
t  is  a  copy  from  G-iorgione,  from  whom  Titian  learnt  much, 
and  whose  paintings  live  and  breathe  on  the  glowing  canvas, 
irhey  have  a  charm  about  them  that  fascinates  you,  and 
makes  you  stand  and  gaze  upon  them  with  unwearied 
delight. 

The  very  antipodes  to  the  works  of  Qiorgione  or  Titian, 
are  the  productions  of  Sasso  Ferrato,  the  Eoman  Carlo 
Dolce.  His  Holy  Family  here  is  the  best  (excepting  one  at 
the  Church  of  Santa  Sabina,)  I  have  ever  seen  of  his  works. 


Digitized  by 


Google 


THB  DOBIA  OALLSBT.  97 

The  St.  Joseph,  espedaJlj,  is  admirable.  But  in  g^ieral, 
at  Eome,  nothing  is  to  be  seen  of  his  but  a  mere  multipli* 
cation  of  Madonnas,  which  bear,  indeed,  a  curious  coinci* 
dence  with  his  name,  for  thej  always  look  like  figures  of 
stone. 

Prom  Sasso  Ferrato  turn  to  B^hael,  and  see  all  that 
Sasso  Perrato  wanted.  Here  is  a  Holy  Family,  in  his  early 
style,  before  he  had  unlearned  the  instructions  of  Fietro 
Perugino;  and  also  a  duplicate  of  one  I  weU  remember 
seeing  in  the  Stafford  gallery,  in  his  best  and  latest  stjrle. 
It  is  small ;  the  figures  are  full-length,  the  Virgin  is  benmng 
over  the  children,  while  the  in&nt  Jesus  leans  against  her 
knees.  The  graceful  flow  of  outline,  the  beautiml  compo* 
sition,  the  ha^onized  splendour  of  colouring,  the  tender- 
ness of  expression,  and,  above  all,  the  chastened  purity  and 
holLness  in. the  divine  face  and  form  of  the  virgin,  are 
Baphael's,  and  Baphael's  alone.  It  is  thought  by  many 
connoisseurs  to  be  a  copy,  perhaps  by  one  of  his  pupils ;  to 
me  it  seems  to  be  oriepnal ;  at  aU  events  it  is  beautiful. 

Leonardo  da  Yind  s  portrait  of  Queen  Joan  of  Arragon, 
is  also  of  disputed  authenticity.  I  think  it  bears  intrinsic 
evidence  of  being  done  by  Leonardo's  own  hand;  and  if 
this  be  the  copy,  where  is  the  original  ?  It  has  the  violet 
tint,  and  the  magical  ivory  smoothness  of  his  finish,  the 
oval  contour  of  face, — all  nis  peculiarities ;  and,  above  all, 
hispeculiar  excellence. 

Here  are  two  of  these  little  trumpery  crucifixions,  falsely 
attributed  to  Michael  An^elo  Buonarotti,  of  which  we  see 
so  many  in  Italian  galleries.  His  contemporary,  Vasari, 
tells  us  ne  only  painted  one  oil  picture ;  but  it  has  been  my 
lot,  in  this  city  alone,  to  see  some  dozens  of  his  reputed 
works.  If  his  great  spirit  could  arise,  and  behola  the 
wretched  paintings  shown  under  his  name,  he  would 
assuredly  annihilate  with  a  firown  the  utterers  of  such  a 
calumny. 

IS'icolas  Poussin's  copy  of  the  Nozze  Alddbrandim  is 
admirable.  It  was  a  suDJect  well  suited  to  that  classical 
artist,  whose  enthusiastic  admiration,  and  unwearied  study 
of  ancient  painting  and  sculpture,  made  him  at  last  enter 

TOI*.  II.  H 


Digitized  by 


Google 


t 


99  BOMS. 

into  the  true  spirit  of  the  luicients  bo  completely,  that  his 
style,  his  figures,  and  decorations,  even  to  the  minutest 

Srts,  are  strictly  antique.  His  very  fency  became  Grecian, 
e  thought  as  the^r  would  have  thought,  and  designed  ad 
they  would  have  designed.  But,  with  all  his  poetic^  ima- 
gination, his  classic  taste,  his  purity  of  composition,  his 
original  thoughts,  and  tho  correctness  and  science  of  his 
designs,  Foussin  never  will  be  a  popular  painter,  from  his 
neglect  of  colouring. 

The  Eour  Misers,  an  admirable  piece  of  comic  painting, 
Worthy  of  Albert  Durer,  is  by  Quintin  Matsys  of  Antwerp, 
whom  love  made  a  painter.  He  was  a  farrier,  and  feU  in 
love  with  the  daughter  of  an  artist,  who  rejected  him  with 
scorn,  declaring  that  "none  but  a  painter  was  worthy  of 
the  daughter  of  a  painter."  The  lover  immediately  laid 
down  the  hammer  and  took  up  the  palette;  and  some  of 
his  productions  having  obtained  the  highest  praise  from  the 
prejudiced  father,  who  little  suspected  they  were  his,  he  at 
length  obtained  the  fair  object  of  his  affections. 

Among  a  great  many  of  Caravaggio's  paintings  which 
^om  this  collection,  I  noticed  a  St.  Eoque  and  his  dog  in 
prison ;  for  it  is  a  picture  which  compels  you  to  look  at  it, 
and  to  allow  that  it  is  the  work  of  a  great  and  original 
genius.  But  the  saint  is  a  vagabond,  a  coarse  peasant 
from  the  lowest  class  of  men,  unennobled  by  his  sacred 
mission.  How  weU  Caravaggio  loved  to  debase  the  lofti- 
ness of  grand  conceptions,  annihilate  sublimity,  and,  with 
his  energetic  touch,  force  us  to  dwell  upon  lowness  and 
vulgarity ! 

Gnercino's  Prodigal  Son  is  the  best  of  his  works  I  saw 
here.  The  Visitation  of  Saint  Elizabeth  is  the  finest  of 
Benvenuto  Garofalo's  two  paiatings,  both  of  which  will 
catch  your  eye  by  their  brilliant  and  beautiful  colouring. 
You  must  see  the  Casta  Snsauna,  and  six  little  landscapes 
and  figures,  quite  miniatures,  by  Annibale  Caracci;  Fan 
teaching  Apollo  to  play  upon  the  pipes,  by  Ludovico  Caracci, 
coarse,  but  forcible,  and  designed  by  a  'master's  hand  and 
mind;  Santa  Veronica,  with  the  admirable  head  of  Christ, 
by  Andrea  Mautegna;  Queen  Semiramis,  by  Paolo  Vero- 
nese I  the  Madonna  adoring  the  Sleeping  Jesus,  by  Guido 


Digitized  by 


Google 


DOSIl.  0ASLIBT.  M 

— ^ihe  porfcnut  of  Bubens's  Gonfessor,  bj  himself-— Pope 
PamfiK  Doha,  by  Velaaquer — ^Machiayelli,  hy  Bronzino — 
and  Bartolo  and  Baldo,  hj  Baphael — all  these  70a  must  see ; 
but  they  form  a  rerj  smiill  T)art  of  the  collection,  although 
70U  will  probablj  think  the  nst  alieady  too  long. 


H  2 

Digitized  by  VjOOQiC 


100 


LETTEB  LXl. 

PALAZZO  OOLOlinrA. 

The  Colonna  has  by  &r  the  finest  galleiy,  and  about  the 
worst  collection  of  pictures,  of  any  in  Eome.  The  immense 
length  and  beautiful  proportions  of  this  building,  the  noble 
Corinthian  columns  and  pilasters  of  giallo-antico  marble 
that  support  it,  the  splendour  of  its  painted  roof,  and  the 
lustre  of  its  marble  pavement,  delight  the  eye  with  the  rare 
imion  of  magnificence  and  taste,  and  weU  accord  with  the 
ancient  greatness  of  the  "  Gloriosa  Colonna."  So  indis- 
solubly  associated  is  that  name  in  my  mind  with  the 
remembrance  of  Petrarch,  and  of  those  days  of  brightness  in 
which  poetry  shed  her  revived  light  over  the  classic  regions 
of  Italy,  that  although  the  ancient  palace  in  which  he 
sojourned  has  long  since  been  razed  to  the  s^und,  his  very 
name  gave  to  this  modem  building  a  (marm  which  no 
palace,  however  splendid,  could  ever  have  possessed  of 
itself. 

Among  the  statues  that  adorn  this  gallery,  there  are  none 
worth  notice  except  an  ancient  Diana,  and  a  small  female 
figure  reclining  on  her  arm,  an  exquisite  piece  of  Grecian 
sculpture,  apparently  very  ancient.  None  of  the  people 
here  could  give  it  a  name ;  but  I  remember  a  similar  figure 
in  the  Townley  collection  at  the  British  Museum,  of  very 
inferior  sculpture,  which  is  there  called  a  Nymph  of  Diana 
reposing. 

The  Apotheosis  of  Homer,  which  Addison  describes,  the 
servants  assured  me  was  no  longer  in  the  palace.  It  pro- 
bably was  sold  at  the  same  time  the  finest  paintings  were 
disposed  of,  which  was  done,  we  were  informed,  to  satisfy 
the  rapacity  of  the  !Prench,  who  levied  repeated  contribu- 
tions upon  the  noble  families  of  Bome,  to  an  immense 


Digitized  by 


Google 


COLOKITA  PALACB.  101 

amount.  One  of  tlie  present  Colonna  faxmij  assigned  tliis 
to  me  as  tbe  cause  why  two  sides  of  this  noble  gallery,  which 
are  standing  unfinished,  have  not  been  completed. 

There  are  several  fine  paLutin^  scattered  through  this 
immense  pahice ;  but  so  many  bad  ones,  that  the  good  are 
almost  lost  in  the  evil  company  among  which  they  hare 
£Jlen. 

There  are  three  Poussins,  and  in  the  gallery  there  is  a 
Claude,  which  must  once  have  been  very  mie.  It  is  called 
the  Temple  of  Yenus, — and  the  beauty  of  the  composition 
stOl  charms  the  eye,  through  aU  the  injuries  it  has  sus- 
tained. 

There  are  a  great  many  of  Orizonti's  Lmdscapes ;  some 
of  them  much  superior  to  any  of  his  I  ever  saw  before.  But 
there  is  stiU  all  the  difference  between  the  worst  of  Claude 
Lorraine's  paintings,  and  the  best  of  Orizonti's,  that  can 
exist  between  the  straios  of  a  true  poet,  and  the  epic  of  a 
dull  rhymester.  For  Claude  Lorraine's  paintings  are  the 
poetry  of  nature ;  and  he  who  ever  e;azed  upon  ^em  with- 
out feeling  in  his  inmost  heart  their  Deauty  and  their  senti- 
ment, must  have  a  soul  that  would  be  unmoved  by  those 
emotions,  not  bom  of  earth,  that  stir  within  us  at  the  call  of 
divine  music,  or  diviner  poesy. 

Descriptions  of  paintings  are  so  insufferable,  that  I  should 
never  mention  one  picture,  if  I  did  not  know  that  by  notic- 
ing the  good  ones,  I  may  save  you  in  part  the  slavery  of 
examining  a  whole  gallery  of  bad  paintings,  to  find  the  few 
worth  admiring.  But,  in  pity  to  you  and  to  myself,  I  must 
pass  over  several  worth  notice,  or  we  shall  never  have  done. 

There  is  one,  a  Feasant  e&tms  his  smoking  hot  dinner, 
gaping  impatiently  to  take  in  a  hug^e  spoonfm  of  scalding 
beans,  but  deterred  by  the  fear  of  burning  his  mouth,— 
admirably  told,  with  infinite  truth  and  comic  effect,  by 
Annibale  CaraccL 

There  is  another  in  the  same  style,  also  said  to  be  by  him^ 
but  painted  with  all  the  comic  humour  of  Carava£;gio.  It 
represents  a  knavish  clown,  with  his  dinner  beiore  him, 
grasping  a  flask  of  wine  in  one  hand,  and  a  glass  in  the 
other,  and  grinning  so,  that  he  absolutely  makes  Sie  beholder 
grin  too. 


Digitized  by 


Google 


I  obaerred  a  fine  libdoxma,  hy  AimibaliBi  Caraod — ^Albano's 
Bape  of  Earopa,  and  Christ  betwa^i  two  Ajigels ;  two  fino 
Tintorettoa ;  Christ  deliyermg  the  souls  of  the  Blessed  in 
Limbo,  designed  by  Buonarotti,  and  painted  by  Marcello 
Yenusti ;  a  Madonna  and  Child,  by  Itaphael,  not,  however, 
in  his  best  style ;  and  two  Portraits^  said  to  be  of  Luther 
and  Calyin,  by  Titian.  But  the  picture  that  riveted  my 
attention  was  Ghiido's  St.  Sebastian ;  in  whtcb,  joined  to  his 
usual  chaste  composition,  and  wonderful  powers  of  expres* 
sion,  he  has  dis{>Iayed  a  srandeur  of  conception,  a  force  and 
freedom  of  pencil,  a  breadth,  and  a  rare  perfection  of  colour- 
ing, that  1  have  seldom  seen  equaUed  in  any  of  his 
works. 

From  this  magnificent  gallery  we  went  to  the  garden,  in 
which  are  to  be  seen  the  uffly  and  uninteresting  remains  of 
the  Baths  of  Constantino,  which  I  once  before  mentioned  to 
you,  and  which  certainly  did  not  invite  us  either  to  explore 
or  describe  them  again. 

The  garden  hangs  on  the  steep  side  of  the  Quirinal  Hill, 
on  the  summit  of  which,  the  broken  but  massive  fragments 
of  an  immense  pediment  of  Parian  marble,  covered  with  the 
finest  sculpture,  repose  on  the  sofb  green  turf,  overshadowed 
by  an  ancient  pine-tree. 

It  was  Just  a  combinaticKn  that  a  painter  would  have 
wished.  It  was  more  than  picturesque.  It  was  what  hia 
fancy  could  never  have  formed,  but  his  taste  must  at  once 
have  selected.  These  fragments  toe  called  the  remains  of 
the  magnificent  Temple  of  the  Sun,  built  by  Aurelian,  afber 
his  triumphant  return  to  Bome,  with  Zenobia,  the  captive 
Queen  of  Syria,  in  his  train.  It  is  very  well  a  thing  should 
have  a  name,  but  the  sculpture  is  far  too  fine  for  Aur^ian's 
age ;  and,  in  fact,  it  is  merely  talking  at  random,  to  say  to 
wldch  of  the  sploidid  edifices  that  adorned  the  Quirinal  Hill 
in  Soman  times,  they  belonged. 

I  wish  the  '^  Glorious  Colonna"  had  let  this  ruined 
Temple  of  the  Sun,  or  whatever  temple  it  was,  stand  where 
it  did.  But  the  indefatigable  labours  of  Martin  Y.  and  the 
succeedinff  Colonna  nrinces,  transported  the  noble  columns, 
and  all  the  rich  spous  of  antiquity  found  here,  to  embellish 
their  palace ;  and  unmercifully  hewed  down  the  beautifiilly 


Digitized  by 


Google 


HOtrSE  07  TBI  BCIFI08.  108 

Bculptured  marble  remams  of  this  superb  building,  for  the 
payement  of  the  galleiy,  the  balustraoes  of  the  chapel,  and 
the  chimney-pieces  of  the  sitting-roomB. 

This  garden  has  the  remembrance  of  the  Scipioa  attached 
to  it.  It  is  said,  that  the  ancient  site  of  their  house,  known 
eyen  in  Italian  dajs  bj  the  name  of  Gaga  de*  Comelj^  was 
within,  or  close  to,  that  part  of  the  garden  which  adjoins  the 
Conyent  of  the  S.  S.  Apostoli*  But  this,  I  think,  I  before 
alluded  to. 

Upon  jour  return  to  the  house,  you  will  be  taken  through 
a  suite  of  carpeted  apartments,  that  look  as  if  they  might 
easily  be  made  habitable,  to  see  a  little  twisted  column  of 
rosso  antico,  about  three  feet  high,  which  is  called,  impu- 
dently enough,  the  Cohmna  Bellica,  that  stood  before  the 
Temple  of  Bellona,  and  from  whence  the  arrow  of  war  was 
thrown  by  the  Consul,  on  the  commencement  of  hostilities 
against  any  nation.  To  suppose  that  this  bauble  is  that 
republican  column  is  truly  the  height  of  absurdity.  The 
material  of  which  it  is  made  was  unknown  till  luxury 
brought  her  train  of  elegance  and  corruption,  and  twisted 
columns  were  imheard  of  till  the  decline  of  taste.  The  style 
of  the  triumph  represented  upon  it  in  bas-relief,  proyea 
it  to  be  the  work  of  a  degenerate  period.  I  shoula  haye 
tjonjectured  it  to  haye  been  of  the  low  ages,  and  brought 
from  the  Baths  of  Constantino  in  the  gardens ;  but  better 
judges  pronounced  it  to  be  the  sculpture  of  the  Oinqtte 
Cento, 

I  turned  from  this  toy  to  the  only  painting  in  this  suite 
of  rooms  that  had  power  to  interest  me — Guide's  Portrait 
of  Beatrice  Cenci.  She  was  younff,  beautiful,  and  noble — 
but  a  parricide.  Yet,  when  you  look  upon  her,  it  is  scarcely 
possible  to  belieye  it.  Did  that  sweet  and  expressiye  face, 
that  gentle  form,  harbour  a  soul,  that,  with  cool  premedita- 
tion, could  embrue  her  hands  in  the  blood  of  her  father  ? 
But  I  know  not  how  to  giye  the  crimes  of  that  father  a 
name.  They  were  such  as  to  make  humanity  shudder — 
such  as  a  fiend  incarnate  might  haye  rejoiced  to  haye  per- 
petrated.   The  brutal  insults,  the  wanton  cruelties,  the 

*  Nardini,  Sul  Quiriiuae. 


Digitized  by 


Google 


104  BOKS. 

diabolical  sufferings,  of  whicli  He  made  Us  innocent  children 
the  victims,  were  not  the  worst.  He  was  a  monster  with- 
out shame,  remorse,  or  pity ;  and  if  he  had  had  ten  thou- 
sand lives,  ho  well  deserved  to  lose  them — hj  any  hand  but 
hers.  Yet  it  was  his  daughter,  who,  in  the  silent  midnight, 
when  even  the  iron  hearts  of  the  ruffians  she  had  hired  re- 
lented, seized  the  avenging  dagger  from  their  nerveless 
arm,  and  plunged  it  into  the  breast  of  a  sleeping  parent. 
But,  how  shall  I  find  words  to  stigmatize  that  government 
which  could  afford  no  protection  from  trrsiwij  the  most 
atrocious,  fi^m  sufferings  the  most  cruel,  nom  insults  worse 
than  death ;  and  which  drove  this  young  and  ill-fated  being 
to  murder,  for  the  very  security  of  her  innocence !  How 
shall  I  speak  my  horror  at  a  government  that  condemned 
the  whole  of  a  yoimg  and  innocent  family,  even  the  little 
children,  to  the  tortiu^,  that  the  perpetrator  of  the  murder 
might  be  discovered !  And  what  heart  does  not  melt  with 
pity  when  they  hear,  that  though  she  had  herself  borne 
the  rack  with  unshrinking  firmness,  yet,  when  her  little 
brother  was  seized  by  the  executioner  to  be  placed  upon 
it,  and  his  plaintive  voice  cried,  "  O  save  me  f  save  me !  " 
she  burst  forward,  and  screamed  aloud,  "  I  am  the  mur- 


The  utmost  efforts  of  the  unhappy  girl  were  directed  to 
save  her  mother,  who  was  implicated  in  the  guilt.  She 
asked  no  mercy  for  herself.  But  all  was  in  vain,  and  the 
mother  and  daughter  perished  together,  by  a  public  and 
ignominious  execution. 

I  may  be  wrong,  but  the  fate  and  misfortunes  of  this 
young  and  criminal  being  sunk  deeper  on  my  heart  than 
the  sufferings  of  many  of  pure  and  unsullied  fame.  For 
the  deepest  misery  had  driven  her  to  the  deepest  guilt,  and 
she  passed  on  to  death  without  the  unutterable  consolations 
of  approving  virtue. 

There  is  a  settled  sorrow,  a  wQdness,  and  a  prophetic 
melancholy  in  her  ^e,  that  is  inexpressibly  touching ;  and 
weak  though  it  be,  I  own  that  I  have  wept  over  the  feeling, 
the  speaking,  the  angelically  lovely  countenance  of  her  who 
stabbed  her  father. 

Above,  in  a  suite  of  very  little  rooms,  full  of  very  stupid 


Digitized  by 


Google  \ 


C'OLOinrA  OALLZBT.  105 

little  pamtings,  yon  will  see  a  Magdalen  by  Gnido,  the 
speaking  beauty  and  pathos  of  which  I  shall  never  forget. 
My  feeble  praise  cannot  do  justice  to  its  merits. 

You  will  also  find  there,  and  dispersed  over  the  palace, 
a  multiplicity  of  imitations  of  Salvator  Bosa,  by  that  parrot 
of  landscape  painters,  Andrea  Locatelli.    Farewell. 


Digitized  by 


Google 


106  '  BO¥a« 


LETTEE  LXn. 

PaLAZZI  BaBBEBUTI  XSB  SoiAJtBiL. 

The  present  representative  of  the  Barbermi  family,  one  of 
the  most  ancient,  and  once  one  of  the  most  proud,  wealthy, 
and  powerful  of  the  Italian  nobility,  now  lives  in  one  half  of 
the  attic  story  of  his  own  palace.  The  other  half  is  occu- 
pied by  the  Frince  of  Peace ;  and  the  principal  floor  is  in- 
habited by  Charles  YII.,  the  late  king  of  Spain,  and  his  old 
Queen.* 

Poverty,  which  drove  the  Prince  Barberini  to  his  garrets, 
has  compelled  him  to  dispose  of  that  celebrated  Museum  of 
ancient  sculpture,  vases,  gems,  cameos,  intaglios,  medals, 
Ac,  which  was  so  long  the  wonder  and  admiration  of  Europe. 
Whither  it  is  now  dispersed,  no  one  can  say.  When  a  mu- 
seum is  once  sold  and  scattered,  I  have  often  thought  it  as 
good  as  lost  to  the  world. 

The  famous  Sleeping  Eaunf  is  cased  up  in  wood,  ready  to 
be  sent  off  to  Mumch,  and  only  waits  to  cross  the  Bhsetian 
Alps,  tin  the  JEgina  Marbles,  which  the  Prince  of  Bavaria 
has  also  purchased,  are  ready  to  bear  it  company. 

A  noble  ancient  lion,  in  white  marble,  found  in  a  tomb 
near  Tivoli,  adorns  the  staircase.     I  believe  the  sculptures, 

*  A.D.  1820,  when  this  work  was  first  published,  and  many  yean 
subsequently. 

t  This  Faun  was  found  in  the  ditch  of  the  Castle  of  St.  Angelo,  and 
is  supposed  to  have  been  one  of  the  statues  which  Belisarius  is  accused 
of  having  hurled  down  upon  the  beBiegers.t  (Vide  Procopius.  De 
Bello  Qoth.)  But  a  Faun,  reclining  in  sleep,  seemed  a  stnmge  orna- 
ment for  the  exterior  of  a  mausoleum;  and  other  accounts  render  it 
dubious  whether  any  other  statue  than  that  of  Hadrian  himself  ever 
stood  upon  the  Holes  HadrianL 


Digitized  by 


Google 


TALAMO  BOnXRk.  107 

as  well  as  the  pamtings  of  this  palace,  were  diyided  with  the 
Prince  Sciarra,  another  branch  of  the  fJEunilj.  Of  the  Bar- 
berini  half  of  the  pictures,  the  finest  have  been  sold,  and 
those  that  remain  are  seen  under  all  the  disadvantages  of 
bad  lights,  dirt,  and  utter  neglect. 

But  some  among  them  trimnph  over  every  disadvan- 


^icholas  Foussin's  death  of  Qermanicus,  is  one  of  the 
finest  of  his  learned  and  masterly  compositions.  Its  colour- 
ing, never,  perhaps,  very  good,  lias  sunered  much  from  time 
and  injury ;  but  its  other  merits  atone  for  this  ffrc»t  defect, 
and  the  more  it  is  studied,  the  more  it  will  be  a£nired.  The 
energy  of  spirit,  struggling  with  the  sinking  weakness  of  ap- 
proaching dissolution,  the  heroic  fortitude  of  the  sufferer, 
and  the  grief  of  the  inimitable  ^oup  that  surrounded  his 
death-bed,  are  finely  pourtrayed.  Poussin  has,  indeed,  trans- 
fused into  this  painting  the  true  spirit  of  the  ancients.  He 
has  not  copied  them,  but  he  has  composed  and  created  as 
th^  would  hare  done. 

His  Miracle  of  St.  Peter,  who  restores  to  life  and  strength 
a  boy  that  had  fallen  from  a  vnndow,  and  shattered  his  limbs 
dreadfriUy  on  the  pavement,  is  extremely  fine,  and  in  much 
better  preservation  than  the  Death  of  Gfermanicus. 

Baphael's  Portrait  of  his  Mistress,  the  Pomarina,  is  not 
in  his  best  style.  There  is  a  hardness,  a  poorness,  a  con- 
straint, in  the  manner;  no  freedom  of  pencilling,  or  glow  of 
colouring.  She  wears  an  armlet,  vdth  the  name  of  Bafi&ello 
Sanzio  &  TJrbino,  inscribed  upon  it. 

There  is  a  small  Holy  Pamily,  by  Eaphael,  so  much  in- 
jured that  its  beaut;^  is  nearly  effaced.  A  fallen  Corinthian 
capital,  introduced  into  it,  adds  to  its  picturesque  effect; 
ana,  perhaps,  is  intended  typically  to  represent  the  over- 
throw of  Paganism  by  the  birth  of  the  infant  Christ,  at 
whose  feet  it  lies.  A  beautiful  little  Claude  has  also  been 
most  cruelly  defaced. 

Tintoretto's  Christ  is  fine.  The  Piet^  is  designed  by 
Buonarotti.  It  exactly  resembles  his  group,  in  sculpture, 
of  the  Virgin  and  dead  Christ,  at  the  Cathedral  of 
Plorence. 

Guide's  Portrait  of  St.  Andrea  Corsini,  the  original  of 


Digitized  by 


Google 


108  SOMB. 

tlie  Mosaic  in  the  Gorsini  Chapel,  at  St.  John  Lateran,  is 
in  his  best  style.  Chnst  disputing  with  the  Doctors,  by 
Albert  Durer,  is  excellent  in  its  kind.  I  never  yet  saw 
any  one  whose  risibility  was  proof  against  these  Doctors' 
faces. 

The  other  paintings  best  worth  notice  are,  Farmegiano's 
Marriage  of  St.  Catherine  (much  injured.)  Caravaggio's 
Martyrdom  of  St.  Catharine ;  Ghuido's  St.  Agatha ;  Andrea 
SaccM's  Apostles ;  Cignano's  Joseph  and  Potiphar's  Wife. 

Those  worthy  personages,  the  old  King  and  Queen  of 
Spain,  and  the  Prince  of  Peace,  go  out  to  take  an  airing 
diumally,  at  the  ventu-due  e  mezzo^*  in  two  heavy  coaches 
and  six,  with  outriders  to  dear  the  way,  &c. 

We  understood  that  the  paintings  in  the  apartments  of 
their  ex-majesties  could  not  be  seen  without  their  own  royal 
permission;  but  as  soon  as  this  procession  drove  off  to-day, 
we  went  to  try,  having  no  other  passport  or  introductioii 
than  &  piastre.  It  is  worthy  of  remark,  that  on  oiur  request 
of  admittance,  it  was  declared  to  be  "  impossible ;"  but,  on 
the  production  of  this  talisman,  a  pretended  leave  was 
askea  of  some  invisible  person,  and,  lo!  the  doors  were 
opened. 

Of  the  paintings,  or  other  curiosities  contained  in  tbese 
regal  chambers,  however,  I  can  give  you  no  account,  (a 
loss  I  can  suppose  you  capable  of  bearing  with  becoming 
fortitude ;)  but  my  companions  of  this  morning  could  atone 
for  my  deficiency,  for  they  saw  the  whole  collection,  before 
I  had  found  out  half  the  beauties  of  two  splendid  Murillos, 
and  hurried  me  away,  without  staying  themselves  to  give 
one  glance  to  the  great  hall,  painted  in  fresco  by  Pietro  da 
Cortona. 

They  carried  me  up  the  opposite  staircase  to  the  apart- 
ments of  the  Prince  of  Peace,  whose  paintings  have  a  merit 
rare  here, — ^that  of  being  clean,  and  in  gocS  preservation. 
They  are  worth  seeing.  There  are  many  gooa  copies,  and 
a  few  originals. 

The  garden  of  the  Barberini  Palace  is  pointed  out  as  the 
site  where  the  ancient  capitol  of  Numa  Pompilius  stood.    X 

*  Half'past  twenty-two  o'clock,  or  one  hour  and  a-half  before 
«im8et. 


Digitized  by 


Google 


AimSEA  DEL  8ABT0.  109 

^ow  of  no  creditable  anthoiiiy  to  support  the  opinion  that 
IN'uina,  that  priestly  kin^,  ever  had  a  capitol  on  the  then 
uninhabited  Quirinal  HiU,  for  Plutarch  seems  to  speak  of  a 
house  only.  The  minute  and  accurate  livy  would  not  haye 
omitted  mentioning  it,  had  it  existed,  or  been  known  to 
exist ;  and  surely,  m  his  day,  he  had  more  chance  of  dis- 
covering that  such  a  thing  had  been,  than  we  have  now. 

FaiuIlzzo  Soiabsa. 

The  proud  lords  of  the  Sciarra,  one  of  whom  in  ancient 
times  struck  a  pope,  whom  he  took  prisoner,  with  his  gaun1>- 
let,  now  share  with  other  tenants  tneir  only  palace  on  the 
Corso. 

The  other  division  of  the  Barberini  paintings  are  in  their 
apartments;  and  as  they  are  imimpau^d  both  in  number 
and  value,  they  are  one  of  the  most  select  collections  of  any 
in  Eome. 

There  is  here  a  Holy  Family,  by  Andrea  del  Sarto,  which 
is  extremely  admired.  Andrea  was  so  successful  a  copyist 
of  the  works  of  Eaphael,  that  when  that  great  master's 
fiimous  portrait  of  Leo  X.,  between  the  Cardinals  Medici 
and  Eossi,  and  his  copy  of  it  were  placed  side  by  side,  Giulio 
Somano,  who  had  himself  painted  the  draperies  in  that  very 
picture,  after  much  attentive  examination,  pronounced  An- 
drea del  Sarto's  copy  to  be  the  original. 

This  poor  man's  real  name  was  Andrea  Yanucchi,  but  he 
was  called  Andrea  del  Sarto  from  his  father's  trade,  and 
Amdrea  senza  errori  from  his  own  faultless  works.  They 
might  have  been  more  &ultless,  if  he  could  have  prolonged 
his  studies  in  Eome ;  but  it  was  his  misfortune  to  be  cursed 
with  a  wife  who  embroiled  him  with  all  his  friends,  bereaved 
him  of  his  pupils,  drew  him  from  the  patronage  of  Francis  I., 
and  involved  him  in  debt  and  dishonour.  In  his  last  sick- 
ness he  was  abandoned  by  the  ungrateM  woman  for  whom 
he  had  sacrifled  friends,  K>rtune,  lame,  and  integrity.  He 
died  at  the  age  of  foriy-two,  in  the  extremity  of  poverty, 
misery,  and  even  of  famme.* 

There  is  another  Holy  Family,  by  another  great  master  of 
the  Florentine  School,  which  I  admired  far  more.    It  is  by 


Digitized  by 


Google 


110  BOMB. 

Tn*  Baxtolomeo:  tHe  glow  and  fireslmess  of  colotcrmg  in 
this  admirable  pamting,  the  softness  of  the  skin,  the  beauty 
and  sweetness  of  the  expression,  the  look  with  which  the 
mother's  eyes  are  bent  upon  the  baby  she  holds  in  her  arms, 
and  the  innocent  fondness  with  which  the  other  child  gazes 
up  in  her  fece,  are  worthy  of  the  painter  whose  works 
Eaphael  delighted  to  study,  and  fipom  which,  in  great  mea- 
sure, he  formed  his  principles  of  colouring. 

The  cloister  has  produced  many  great  logicians,  theolo- 
gians, and  politicians;  many  renowned  diplomatists,  in- 
triguers, and  prime  ministers ;  indeed,  more  men  versed  in 
the  knowledge  of  this  world,  than  could  be  expected  from  a 
spot  sancti&ed  to  the  purposes  of  another ;  but  very  few 
poets,  painters,  or  men  of  genius.  It  did  not  produce,  but 
rather  Duried  one,  in  Era'  Bartolomeo  della  Porta;  for  he 
entered  the  cloister  in  consequence  of  a  rash  vow,  and  was 
persuaded,  or  obliged,  from  Mse  scruples,  to  destroy  all  hk 
studies  and  paintins^  in  nudities.  Lif^,  and  Sebastian  del 
Piombo,  and  several  other  great  painters,  however,  emerged 
from  the  cloister ;  but  by  far  the  greatest  number  of  cele- 
brated painters  have  sprung  from  the  lower  classes.  Giotto 
was  a  shepherd ;  Andrea  di  Mantegna,  a  cattle-driver ;  Gas- 
par  Poussm,  an  errand-boy;  Claude  Lorraine,  a  pastry-cook; 
Marcello  Venusti,  a  colour-grinder ;  Tintoretto,  as  his  name 
implies,  the  son  of  a  dyer;  Caravaggio,  a  plasterer;  and 
Saivator  Eosa,  a  lazzarone  in  the  streets  of  Naples. 

Leonardo  da.Yinci  and  Buonarotti  were  both  of  noble 
birth,  and  both  Florentines.*  Leonardo  so  far  surpassed  all 
his  predecessors  and  contemporaries,  that  he  seemed  to  be 
the  only  painter  in  the  world,  till  his  fame  was  eclipsed  by 
Buonarotti,  who  was  twenty-two  years  his  junior.  Perhaps 
Buonarotti' s  contempt  for  colouring  was,  in  some  measure, 
derived  from  Leonardo's  superiority  in  it.  He  chose  to 
imdervalue  that  in  which  he  did  not  excel. 

In  their  rival  cartoons  of  the  Battle  of  Pisa,t  so  decided 
was  the  superiority  of  Michael  Angelo's  in  design  and  com- 
position, that  the  preference  was  unanimously  given  to  it, 

*  Leonardo  was  bom  in  the  villag^e  of  Yind  on  the  Amo,  near 
Florence. 

t  Lanzi,  Storia  Pittori<Ja, 


Digitized  by 


Google 


LEOKABDO  DA  TUTOI.  Ill 

Bnt  both  these  ffreat  works  were  spoken  of  as  prodigies  of 
art,  and  formed  the  study  of  succeeding  artists,  till  they  were 
unfortunately,  or  rather  maliciously,  destroyed. 

It  is  unfortunate  for  the  fame  of  Leonardo,  that  both  his 
greatest  works  have  perished.  This  cartoon  disappeared 
early;  and  his  Last  Supper,  in  the  deserted  refectory  of  the 
Dominican  convent  at  IVlilan,  nearly  destroyed  by  the  French 
soldiers  who  occupied  this  convent  as  a  barrack,  is  scarcely 
the  shadow  of  a  shade;  indeed,  it  has  been  so  often  re- 
touched and  restored,  that  no  trace  of  the  original  painting 
is  now  supposed  to  remain. 

Oonsid^mg  these  disasters,  and  the  extreme  slowness 
with  which  he  painted,  for  it  is  recorded  that  he  was  em- 

? loved  four  years  on  the  portrait  of  Qioconda  alone  ;♦  it  is 
ttiink,  wonderfiil  that  so  many  of  his  works  still  exist,  for  he 
was  not  only  a  painter,  a  sculptor,  and  architect,  and  an  engi- 
neer, but  one  of  the  most  accomplished  men  of  his  age.  In 
poetry,  music,  dancing,  fencing,  and  riding,  he  was  unrivalled. 
He  invented  a  new  lyrical  instrument,  formed  chiefly  of 
silver,  and  he  excelled  as  an  improvisatore.  He  was  the 
delight  and  ornament  of  society  m  the  court  of  the  Duke 
Sforza  at  Milan ;  nor  was  his  time  entirely  devoted  to  the 
fine  arts.  His  predilection  for  science,  and  his  studious 
habits,  are  proved  by  the  voluminous  manuscripts  still 
extant  in  his  handwriting,  in  the  Ambrosian  Library  at 
Milan  .t 

His  residence  at  Eome  was  short.  The  ill-judged  and 
iOib^ral  sarcasms  of  Leo  X.  disgusted  him,  and  the  fiiend- 
ship  of  Francis  I.  drew  him  to  the  French  capital,  where, 
during  a  lingering  and  hopeless  illness,  he  was  cheered  by 
the  unremittmg  kmdness,  and  is  even  said  to  have  expired 
in  the  arms,  of  that  amiable  and  noble-minded  monarch. 

The  portrait  of  Leonardo,  in  the  Gallery  of  Florence,  by 

♦  That  it  mght  be  four  years  before  it  was  finished,  I  can  believe; 
but  that  he  was  employed  four  yeare  solely  upon  painting  one  portrait, 
is  not  credible,  nor  consistent  with  the  activity  of  his  mind  and  his 
unwearied  application. 

t  Nine  volumes  of  these  manuscripts  have  been  retained  in  Paris, 
whither  the  whole  work  was  transported  at  the  time  the  French  plun- 
dered Italy. 


Digitized  by 


Google 


112  BOMS. 

bis  own  hand,  is  one  of  tho  finest  lieads,  and  the  most 
exquisite  painting,  I  have  ever  seen.  One  of  his  best  works 
is  in  this  palace, — ^Modesty  and  Vanity,  which  is,  I  think, 
inferior  only  to  his  Herod's  Daughter,  in  the  IMbune  at 
Florence. 

Here  is  a  masterpiece  of  Caravageio's ;  a  sharper  playing 
at  cards  with  a  youth  of  fisunily  and  fortune,  whom  his  con- 
federate, while  pretending  to  be  looking  on,  is  assisting  to 
cheat.  The  subject  will  remind  you  of.  the  Flemish  school ; 
but  this  painting  bears  no  resemblance  to  it.  Here  is  no 
faxce,  no  caricature.  It  is  true  to  nature ;  and  the  expres- 
sion, though  admirably  given,  is  not  in  the  least  overcharged. 
Character  was  never  more  strongly  marked,  nor  a  tale  more 
inimitably  told.  It  is  life  itself,  and  you  almost  forget  it  is 
a  picture,  and  expect  to  see  the  game  go  on.  The  colouring 
is  oeyond  all  praise. 

Eaphael's  Portrait  of  a  Musician,  a  Mend  of  his  own,  ia 
supremely  beautiful. 

There  are  two  Magdalens,  by  Guide,  almost  duplicates, 
and  yet  one  is  incomparably  superior  to  the  other.  She  is 
reclining  on  a  rock,  and  her  tearful  and  uplifted  eyes,  the 
whole  of  her  countenance  and  attitude,  speak  the  oyer^ 
whelming  sorrow  that  penetrates  her  soul.  Her  face  might 
charm  the  heart  of  a  stoic ;  and  the  contrast  of  her  youth 
and  enchanting  lovelines,  with  the  abandonment  of  grief,  the 
resignation  of  all  earthly  hope,  and  the  entire  devotion  of 
herself  to  penitence  and  to  heaven,  is  so  affecting,  that  it 
has  drawn  tears  from  many  an  eye.  Every  picture  in  tho 
last  apartment  is  a  masterpiece. 

There  are  some  fine  Samts  by  Ghiercino ;  a  Portrait  of  a 
Lady,  by  Bronzino;  a  capital  Housemaid  by  Leonetta 
Spada ;  an  exquisite  painting  by  Giorgione ;  and  many  more 
that  ought  to  be  seen,  and  must  be  aSmired — ^but  they  can- 
not be  described ;  for  palaces  appear  before  me  in  long  array, 
and  before  we  have  got  through  them,  I  shall  have  exhausted 
both  your  patience  and  my  own. 


Digitized  by 


Google 


XHl  JOMOOmOILVU.  US 


LETTBELXm. 

Thb  Palazzi  Mabsiki  Ain>  Spaba— Pomvit's  Status— 
Palazzo  Cobtaoitti — ^Palazzo  Mattel 

Thx  Palazzo  MwwiTni,  though  one  of  the  smalleflt  and 
worst  Bituated  of  the  Soman  Palaces,  is,  I  think,  the 
prettiest  building  of  them  alL  The  simplidtj  of  its  Doric 
portico  and  court  particularly  pleased  me,  and  does  great 
credit  to  the  taste  of  Balthazar  Peruzzi,  who  was  its  archi- 
tect. In  those  dajs  eyerj  painter  was  an  architect ;  yet  I 
cannot  think  the  two  arts  well  adapted  to  be  united  in  the 
same  profession. 

We  visited  this  palace  to  see  the  &mouB  Discobolus,* 
which  is  the  finest  in  the  world. — at  least,  aboTe  ground. 
It  is,  indeed,  an  admirable  piece  of  Grecian  sculptiue,  and 
well  worth  seeing.  It  differs  in  nothing,  except  its  supe- 
riority of  execution,  from  every  other  Discobolus.  All  of 
them  are  ancient  copies  from  one  orimnal — ^the  celebrated 
Discobolus  of  bronze,  the  masterpiece  of  Myro. 

Judas  returning  the  thirty  pieces  of  silver  to  the  Chief 
Priest,  by  Caravaggio,  is  tbe  only  painting  here  worth 
looking  at. 

We  were  shown  a  chapel,  formerly  a  bedroom,  in  which 
that  notable  saint,  Pilippo  Neri,  raised  from  the  dead  a  son 
of  this  noble  house,  on  the  16th  of  March,  1583,  in  con- 
sequence of  which  grand  miracle  S.  Eilippo  Neri  was 
canonized,  the  plsfce  was  consecrated,  and  a  solemn  service 
is  still  annually  performed  in  it  upon  the  anniversary  of  the 
day. 

We  Protestants,  being,  in  the  opinion  of  the  Boman 
Catholics,  of  the  number  of  those  "who  will  not  believe, 
though  one  came  from  the  dead  to  tell  us  it  is  so,"  went 

*  Found  in  the  grounds  of  the  Villa  Palombari,  on  the  Esqnilino 
HilL 


TOL.  II.  I 


Digitized  by 


Google 


U4 

awaj  in  tHe  persuasion  that  the  Humane  Sodety  worked 
such  miracles  every  day,  though  nobody  made  saints  of  them 
ki  consequence. 

In  the  stables  of  the  neighbouring  Palazzo  Pio,  it  is  said 
some  of  the  remains  of  the  walls  of  Pompey's  Theatre  may 
be  seen.    I  did  not  go  to  look  for  them. 

Palazzo  Sfada. 

We  afterwards  visited  the  Palazzo  Spada,  to  see  the  cele- 
brated Statue  of  Pomt>e^,  at  the  foot  of  which  Cesar  fell. 
Every  one  knows  that  it  wus  found  below  the  foundation* 
wall  of  two  houses,  in  a  lane  near  the  site  of  the  Curia  of 
Pompey — ^that  the  proprietors,  unable  to  settle  to  which  of 
them  it  belonged,  tne  nead  being  under  one  house  and  the 
feet  under  the  other,  imitated  the  judgment  of  Solomon,  and 
resolved  to  cut  it  in  two — and  that  a  cuuning  Cardinal^ 
heariug  of  this,  persuaded  the  Pope  to  buy  it,,  and  to  make 
him  a  present  of  it. 

The  statue  is  larger  than  life,  and  in  the  heroic  styles-- 
that  is,  with  no  other  drapery  than  the  chlarnvs,  which 
covers  one  shoulder.  The  style  is  certainly  not  of  first-rate 
excellence,  but  tlus  statue  has  an  interest  beyond  all  that 
statuary  can  give ;  and  we  ^azed  upon  it  till  the  long-past 
scene  seemed  again  realized — till  CsDsar,  defending  hmself 
against  the  conspirators,  saw  at  length  the  dagger  of  his 
most  trusted  Mend ;  and,  willing  to  leave  a  world  in  which 
faith  and  Mendship  were  empty  names,  exclaimed — "  Et  tu. 
Brute!"  as  he  folded  his  head  in  his  robe,  and  sank  in 
c[eath. 

But  there  is  no  recollection  or  belief  that  the  fimcy  loves 
to  cling  to,  that  these  vile  antiquaries  do  not  come  with 
their  "doubts,"  to  disturb.  They  "doubt  whether  this  be 
the  statue  of  Pompey — Possibly  an  emperor,  because  he 
carries  the  ^obe  in  his  hand."  An  emperor! — ^But  what 
emperor  P — They  are  all,  except  the  last  dregs  of  the  empe- 
rca»,  pretty  well  known.  They  took  care  to  multiply  their 
persons,  and  what  with  statues,  busts,  medals,  and  coins,  one 
sees  them  so  continually,  that  there  is  no  mistaking  their 
physiognomy.     I  feel  as  intimately  acquainted  with  the 


Digitized  by 


Google 


STATUE  01  POHFET.  116 

twelve  Csesars  as  if  I  iiad  known  them  all  mj  life ;  and  the 
countenance  of  the  mild  and  martial  Marcus  AureLus,  and 
his  coxcombid^il  colleague,  the  whiakered  Lucius  Yerus ;  the 
plain  features  of  Hadrian,  and  that  dark  ruffian  Caracalla^s 
unbending  &own,  are  as  familiar  to  me  as  my  own  &oe. 

The  statue  of  Fompej  bears  no  resemblance  to  any  known 
emperor.  Erom  the  style  of  sculpture,  it  cannot  represent 
any  of  the  latter  ones — ^it  answers  to  the  state  of  the  arts 
at  the  close  of  the  EepubHc ; — it  was  found  on  the  spot 
where  the  Statue  of  Pompey  stood;  it  bears  a  strong 
resemblance  to  the  head  on  nis  medal,  (published  in  the 
Museo  Eomano ;)  and  as  to  the  objection  of  his  bearing  the 
globe,  was  there  any  thing  extraordinary  in  the  adulation 
of  marking  the  extent  of  his  conquests,  by  putting  that 
symbol  into  the  hand  of  a  victorious  generid,  whose  triumphs 
liad  extended  over  the  then  known  world,  through  Europe, 
A&ica,  and  Asia ;  and  who^  tiU  his  gloiy  was  eclipsed  Dy 
the  brighter  star  of  Cessar,  was  the  idol  of  the  Eoman 
people,  and  virtually  the  master  of  the  world  P  No !  the 
conviction  is  irresistible ;  and  in  spite  of  all  the  antiquaries, 
I  will  believe  it  to  be  the  Statue  of  Pompey,  that  very 
individual  statue,  at  the  foot  of  which  ''great  Cssar  fell." 

Eustace  says,  tiiat  the  arm  of  the  statue  was  sawn  off 
by  the  French,  in  order  that  they  might  transport  it  with 
more  focilit^  to  the  Colosseum,  where  they  acted  before  it 
Voltaire's  foolish  tra^dy  of  the  Death  of  Brutus.  That 
may  be,  but  the  arm  is  known  to  be  a  modem  restoration ; 
and,  therefore,  as  the  Erench  only  cut  off  what  had  before 
been  put  on,  they  did  no  great  harm.  ELad  the  arm  been 
Ancient,  the  question  as  to  the  identity  of  the  statue  would 
have  been  decided  at  once,  for,  if  tliat  of  an  emperor,  it 
would  have  borne  the  sceptre. 

Winkelman  says,  that  "  if  it  be  the  statue  of  Pompey,  it 
is  the  only  statue  of  a  Eolnan  citizen  of  republican  times  in 
the  heroic  siyle."  But  it  is  the  only  statue  of  a  Boman 
citizen  of  republican  times,  in  any  slyle,  that  has  come  down 
to  our  day;  and  how»  therefore,  can  we  be  so  very  sure 
that  they  were  never  so  represented?  All  the  statues  of 
CiesaTy  the  contemporary  of  Pompey,  are  in  the  heroic 

I  2 


Digitized  by 


Google 


116  son. 

style ;  wlij,  therefore,  maj  not  thia  P  IndeeMi,  the  times  of 
Pompej  and  Cesar  were  no  longer  republican,  except  in 
name.  Wealth  and  Inxury  had  introduced  as  total  a  change 
in  manners  as  in  politics.  Ghreeoe  had  become  the  great 
standard  of  perfection — ^the  model  of  imitation;  and,  as  we 
kiow  that  Ix>mpe7,  more  particularly,  affected  to  adopt  the 
arts  and  modes  of  the  Greeks  in  eyerything,  can  we  wonder 
that  his  statue  should  be  in  the  same  stjle  as  all  the  statues 
of  their  great  men  P 

There  are  several  pieces  of  ancient  statuary  here :  th^ 
little  Qod  of  Slumber  reposes  in  the  sweet  sleep  of  infiant 
innocence,  his  poppies  luring  in  his  ungrasped  hand. 

But  the  finest  by  far  is  the  Statue  of  an  old  Philosopher, 
sitting  in  a  chair ;  supposed  to  be  intended  for  Antisthenes 
listenmg  to  Socrates,  an  admirable  piece  of  Grecian  sculp^ 
ture. 

There  are  two  fine  antique  bas-relie&,  which  were  brought 
j&om  the  staircase  of  the  Church  of  St.  Aaaeajtiori  le  mtira, 
representing  Perseus  liberating  Andromeda,  and  Endymion 
sleeping.  They  are  duplicates  of  those  in  the  Museum  of 
the  Capitol. 

There  cannot  be  imagined  a  more  deserted,  dreary,  de- 
cayed, and  deplorably  dniy  place,  than  this  poverty-struck 


Above  stairs,  there  is  a  collection  of  pictures,  some  of 
which  are,  or  rather  have  been,  good ;  for  they  are  cracked, 
spoiled,  defaced,  and  destroyed  with  damp  and  darkness, 
dirt  and  neglect. 

The  best  I  observed  among  them  were,  St.  Anne  teaching 
the  Virgin  to  sew,  admirable  for  its  nature  and  truth,  by 
Caravag^o,  in  the  style  in  which  he  excelled ;  Christ  led  to 
Crucifixion,  by  Andrea  Mantegna;  St.  Jerome,  by  Albert 
Purer;  Lucretia^  and  also  a  fine  Portrait  of  a  Cardinal, 
(a  Spada)  by  Guido. 

There  is  a  little  practical  perspective  in  the  court,  formed 
by  a  dimiuishiTig  colonnade,  which  ^ves  the  efiect  of  great 
length,  though  really  very  short.  It  was  made  by  Borro- 
mini,  whose  genius  1  could  wish  had  been  confined  to  such 
nice  little  works  as  these. 


Digitized  by 


Google 


PALAZZO  OOSTAaUTI.  117 


Palazzo  Gobtaoitti. 


The  Palazzo  Costaguti  is  a  most  dismal,  dirty,  miserable 
place.  Words  cannot  give  you  an  idea  of  its  utter  wretcHed- 
ness,  and  I  could  scarcely  believe  these  forlorn,  filthy  cham- 
bers were  the  residence  of  the.Marchesa  I  had  seen  blazing 
in  diamonds  at  the  ♦♦**♦  ambassador's  ball,  the  night 
before.  We  visited  it  to  see  the  ceilings,  painted  in  fresco^ 
with  which  it  was  adorned  in  its  earlier  and  more  prospe* 
rous  days. 

The  first  is  by  Albani.  It  represents  the  Centaur  car- 
mng  off  Dejanira,  and  Hercules  slaying  him  with  the  arrow, 
what  it  may  have  been,  it  would  now  be  unfair  to  judge, 
for  the  colouring  is  faded,  and  very  little  of  the  grace  and 
beauty  of  Albani  remains. 

The  ceiling  of  the  second  room  has  fallen  in;  the  de- 
stroyed fresco  was  Polyphemus  and  Galatea,  by  Lanfranco. 
I  cannot  be  sony  that  the  works  of  a  man,  whose  envious 
malignity  pursuea  the  amiable  Domenichino  through  life, 
literally  persecuted  him  to  death,  and  defaced  the  matchless 
frescos  that  he  could  not  equal,  should,  by  a  sort  of  poetical 
justice,  be  in  turn  destroyed. 

In  the  third  chamber  Apollo  appears  in  his  car,  drawn  by 
four  horses,  white,  red,  grey,  and  black — ^I  suppose  to  re- 
present the  different  tunes  of  the  day ;  but  such  horses ! 
they  may  be  like  heavenly  steeds,  but  I  am  sure  they  bear 
no  resemblance  to  earthly  ones.  In  a  comer  of  the  room  is 
old  Time,  seizing  hold  of  a  frightened  woman  called  Truth* 
I  gazed  with  astonishment  and  disappointment  on  this 
ceiling,  for  they  say  it  is  by  Domenichmo.  I  can  only  say, 
I  hope  not ;  and  that,  I  am  sure,  if  Domenichino  did  paint 
it,  he  never  painted  any  thing  else  so  bad.  Amongst  the 
immense  variety  of  frescos  with  which  he  has  adorned  £ome, 
this  is  the  only  one  unworthy  of  his  genius. 

Einaldo  and  Armida,  borne  through  the  air  in  the  car  of 
the  Enchantress,  drawn  by  dragons,  is  by  far  the  finest 
fresco  in  this  palace.  It  is  by  Guercino,  and  designed  with 
all  his  force  and  energy,  heightened  by  all  the  splendour  of 


Digitized  by 


Google 


118  BOM^. 

his  chiar'oscuro.  The  figure  of  Einaldo  is^very  fine;  but 
Armida  is  not  what  the  poet's  fancj  would  have  painted. 

Justice  and  Peace,  by  Laofiranco,  so  far  as  the  extreme 
darkness  of  the  room  would  allow  us  to  judge,  is  a  very  fine 
painting ;  but,  perhaps,  the  uncertain  light  gave  it  an  ima- 
ginary beauty,  as  I  have  sometimes  seen  an  ordinary  womaa 
look  almost  divinely  lovely  in  the  soft  beam  of  feding  twi- 
light, or  shaded  moonlight ;  and  witnessed,  for  the  first  time, 
scenes  at  that  ma^c  hour,  which  seemed  beyond  descrmtioa 
beautiful,  but  which,  when  viewed  in  the  garish  eye  of  day, 
were  stripped  of  every  charm. 

Next — ^I  saw 


-Arion  on  a  dolphin's  back. 


Uttering  such  pleasing  and  harmonioos  breath, 
That  the  rade  sea  grev  civil  at  his  song. 
And  certain  stars  &ot  madly  from  their  spheresy 
To  hear  the  minstrel's  music." 

Poetry  apart,  however,  Arion  on  the  Dolphin's  back  is  a 
beautiful  paiating,  by  Bomanelli.  Upon  another  ceiling,  are 
some  Gods  and  Goddesses,  and  Peacocks,  by  the  Cavaliere 
d' Arpino ;  and  plenty  of  bad  paintings,  with  high-sounding 
titles,  on  the  walls. 

Palazzo  Mattel 

We  have  been  several  times' at  the  Palazzo  Mattei,  if  pos- 
sible a  still  more  deplorable  place  than  the  Palazzo  Costa- 
guti,  in  order  to  see  Eachael  and  Jacob,  a  fresco  by  Dome- 
nichino,  which,  by  a  kind  of  fatality,  we  have  never  yet  seen. 
Our  attempts  have  been  all  fruitless ;  either  we  thundered 
for  half  an  hour  at  the  door  and  got  no  answer,  or,  if  we  ob- 
tained admittance,  the  Cardinal  Mattei  was  in  bed  or  at 
dinner ;  or  else  he  had  gone  out  with  the  key  in  his  pocket, 
even  when  a  time  had  been  fixed ;  so  that  we  have  given  it 
up  in  despair.  By  means  of  oxa  frequent  visitations,  we  saw 
some  very  fine  ancient  bas-reliefs  in  the  court  and  on  the 
staircase,  and  one  fine  painting  in  the  house — ^a  Holy  family, 
painted  by  Parmegianp,  with  all  that  grace  and  captivating 
sweetness  to  which  he  always  aspired ;  and  without  any  of 
that  unfortunate  affectation  which  too  often  marred  his 


Digitized  by 


Google 


PALAUaO  IC^TTXI.  110 

works.  Yet  the  best  of  them  prove  that  he  was  a  man- 
nerist,  and  a  close,  though  a  successful  imitator  of  Correggio. 
But  an  imitator,  in  any  of  the  fine  arts,  can  never  be  great : 
or,  rather,  a  truly  ^at  genius  wiU  never  be  an  imitator; 
for  the  very  act  of  imitation  is  a  confession  of  inferiority. 
Still,  so  beautiM  are  many  of  his  paintings,  that  we  cannot 
but  regret  that  this  infatuated  man  should  have  wasted  his 
time,  ms  talents,  his  fortune,  and  his  life,  upon  the  wild  and 
visionary  pursuit  of  alchemy,  in  which  he  blasted  all  his 
hopes,  and  sacrificed  even  his  integrity. 


Digitized  by 


Google 


120  BOMB. 


LETTBEIXIV. 

Pasqttik — Palazzo   Beabchi — Palazzo    QiUBTisiAm. — 
Paittheok  by  Mooklioht — Palazzo  BoBanxsE. 

The  mutilated  statue  of  Pasquin*  stands  at  tHe  comer  of 
the  Palazzo  Braschi,  where  he  has  cut  his  caustic  jokes  for 
many  an  age,  and  levelled,  with  impunity,  his  sarcasms 
against  priest^  and  princes,  popes  and  cardinals,  church  and 
state. 

The  statue  of  Marforio,  in  the  court  of  the  Museum  of 
the  Capitol,  was  his  ancient  respondent:  but  their  witty- 
dialogues  and  smart  repartees  are  now  at  an  end. 

There  is  another  mutilated  figure  in  a  street  in  Bome, 
which  is  known  by  the  name  of  Madam  Lucretia,t  but,  un- 
like the  loquacity  of  her  sex,  she  has  always  maintained  a 
strict  silence. 

Pasquinades,  however,  are  still  occasionally  current  in 
Eome,  though,  perhaps,  no  longer  affixed  to  Pasquin. 
Amongst  many  smart  epigrams  and  squibs  of  satire,  some 
of  which  would  not  be  intelligible  out  of  Eome,  the  follow- 
ing seems  to  me  one  of  the  best,  and  it  has,  at  least,  as  much 
truth  as  point  to  recommend  it. 

"  Yenditur  hie  ChriBtus,  vendnntnr  dogmata  Petri, 
Besoendam  infemum  ne  quoque  vendar  ego." 

Pasquin  did  not  spare  the  French  during  tbeir  stay  here. 
Among  the  many  squibs  against  them  he  said, 
"  I  Fiancesi  son'  tutti  ladri."— 


*'  Kon  tutti — ^ma  Buona  parte,** 
was  the  anticipated  reply. 

*  It  received  its  name  from  Pasquino,  a  sarcastic  tailor,  vho  used  to 
work  at  his  shop  hard  by.  Though  excessively  mutilated,  it  has  evi- 
dently been  a  fine  piece  of  sculpture. 

t  This  figure  is  usually  supposed  to  have  been  an  Lds. 


Digitized  by 


Google 


PABQtrnr  Aim  haxfobto..  121 

On  a  tremendous  storm,  which  took  pkoe  after  the  de- 
crees of  Buonaparte  were  put  in  force  at  Bome,  the  fdlow- 
ing  somewhat  pro&ne  pasquinade  appeared: — 

^L'AltWmo  in  sii,  d  manda  la  tempests, 
L'Altiflrimo  qua  giil,  toglia  quel  che  rests* 
E  fra  le  dne  Altissimi, 
Stiamo  noi  MalianmL** 

Canova  finished  the  figure  of  Itslj  (a  draped  statue,)  for 
the  tomb  of  Alfieri,  about  the  time  the  French  overran  the 
country.    Soon  afterwards  the  following  appeared : — 

"  Quests  volta  Ganova  Ilia  sbagliato^ 
Ha  ritalia  yestita,  ed  e  spogUata." 

One  of  the  best  things  of  the  kind,  I  think,  was  made  on 
the  colonnade  in  front  of  Carlton  House,t  hj  an  Italian,  a 
man  of  some  taste,  who,  being  accustomed  to  see  columns 
supporting  something,  or  of  some  use,  stood  amazed  at  the 
si^t  of  tms  sinecure  row,  and  questioned  them  as  to  their 
employment,  thus — 

"Care  Colonne !  che  &te  qflkT 


"  Non  sapplamo  in  yeiitH," 


was  their  innocent  reply. 

But  to  return  to  the  Palazzo  Braschi.  As  you  ascend  the 
staLrcase,  you  will  be  struck  ¥dth  its  noble  architecture, 
which  is  in  the  most  chaste  and  classical  taste.  The  stairs 
are  led  up  between  a  colonnade  formed  of  columns  of  red 
Oriental  granite,  the  high  polish  of  which  accords  well  with 
the  lustre  of  the  yariegated  marbles,  of  which  the  stairs  and 
ballustrades  are  composed,  and  with  the  graceful  symme- 
try and  just  design  of  the  whole.  The  coup^'oeil,  as  we 
mounted  it  the  other  night,  when  brilliantly  lighted  up  for 
a  grand  fete  giyen  by  the  Austrian  ambassador,  was  more 
striking  than  any  thing  of  the  kind  I  eyer  saw. 

*  On  the  yisit  of  the  Emperor  Francis  to  Borne  in  1819,  a  pasquinade 
appeared  free  from  this  &iQt : — 

"Gandinm  Urbia.    Fletns  Proyincianun.    Risos  Mmidi." 

f  Formed  by  a  long  range  of  remarkably  beantifhl,  but  unmeaning, 
useless  columns.  The  Colonnade  and  Palace  of  oouise  disappeared 
together. 


Digitized  by 


Google 


123  BOia. 

Like  most  of  tlie  noble  &inilie8  of  Borne,  the  Duca  di 
Braschi  no  longer  inhabits  his  patem^palace.  His  was  the 
crime  of  being  the  nephew  of  Pius  Vl.,  and  consequently 
of  opposing  the  surrender  of  Borne  to  Erench  despotism. 
It  was  atoned  for  by  the  confiscation  of  his  pro^rfy;  and 
amidst  the  wreck  of  his  fortune,  and  the  dispersion  of  his 
&mil7,  the  Palazzo  Braschi  was  left  in  unfinished  magni- 
ficence. 

In  the  gallery  of  the  palace,  the  bare  unnlastered  walls 
of  which  torm  a  striking  contrast  to  its  noble  proportions, 
stands  the  beautiful  Colossal  Statue  of  Antinous,  which  was 
dug  up  on  the  site  of  the  ancient  Ghabii,  bj  the  late  Oavin. 
H^mlton.  Its  colossal  size  was  probably  the  cause  why  it 
was  not  removed  to  Paris ;  for  the  late  conquerors  of  Italy 
could  have  had  no  scruples  of  conscience  in  appropriating 
this  statue,  if  they  could  conveniently  have  carried  it  ofi^ 
after  seizing  upon  every  other  piece  of  sculpture  belonging 
to  that  unfortunate  fiunily  that  was  worth  taldn£;. 

I  do  not  recollect  anj  thing  more  in  this  gfdlery  worthy 
of  notice ;  but  my  eyes  were  so  entirely  engrossed  by  the 
matchless  beauty  of  Antinous,  that  I  could  hx)k  at  nothing 
else ;  and  scarcely,  as  I  gazed  upon  it,  could  I  wonder  that 
Hadrian  believed  that  form  to  be  inhabited  by  a  god. 

This  admirable  piece  of  sculpture  is  secluded  from  the 

Sublic  eye  hj  the  present  inhabitant  of  this  palace,  the 
Lustrian  minister.  As  we  we  were  acquainted  with  him 
and  his  amiable  fiunily,  we  had  no  difficulty  in  seeing  it ; 
but  I  cannot  admire  this  system  of  exclusion. 


Pix^zo  GiusTiNiAiirr. 

The  ancient  and  wealthy  Giustiniani  fiunily  are  now 
beggars,  and  their  palace  is  inhabited  by  strangers.  All  its 
fine  paintings  are  gone.  We  inquired  m  vain  for  Poussin's 
Massacre  of  the  Innocents,  Domenichino^s  St.  John  the 
Evangelist,  Annibale  Carracci's  Chiist  and  the  Cananean,  or 
Caravaggio's  Incredulity  of  St.  Thomas.  It  would  be  easier 
to  make  a  list  of  what  this  palace  has  lost,  than  what  it  pos- 
sesses.   There  is  not  a  single  good  painting  left.    We  were 


Digitized  by 


Google 


Tisw  or  THX  -pAjsnaois.  128 

eihown  a  great  ntunber  of  frightM  daubs,  each  of  whicH  was 
dignified  witli  the  name  of  some  great  artist.  I  once  asked 
the  man  if  he  was  certain  one  he  called  a  Domenichino  was 
an  original, — ^to' which  he  replied,  "  Ori^finalissimo,  Signora!" 

This  snperlatively  original  painting  was  so  superlatively- 
bad,  that  it  was  weU  the  spirit  of  Domenichino,  wno,  during 
his  life,  was  accustomed  to  eveiy  insult,  could  not  know  this 
greater  opprobium  cast  upon  him  after  his  death. 

This  palace  is  built  upon  the  ruins  of  Nero's  Baths,  and 
a  prodigious  quantity  of  statuary,  of  all  kinds,  was  found 
in  them,  which  once  adorned  its  magnificent  ealleries  and 
spacious  halls ;  but  the  finest  of  the  statues,  like  the  pic- 
tures, have  disappeared. 

An  immense  number  are  still  standing,  in  utter  confusion, 
in  a  set  of  miserable,  unfurnished,  dusty,  and  desolate  apart- 
ments ;  and  though  the  most  part  of  the  busts  and  statues 
are  mutilated,  and  aU  of  them  are  discoloured  and  abomin- 
ably dirty,  there  are  many  among  them  of  very  fine  sculp- 
ture. Among  these  I  will  only  mention  the  Statue  of  Mar- 
cellus,  in  the  hall,  and  a  youthM  male  figure,  the  Torso  of 
which  is  very  fine  ;  but  it  is  badly  restored,  which,  indeed, 
is  the  case  with  many  of  them. 

The  Etruscan  Vestal  is  not  allowed  to  be  Etruscan,  and 
seldom  acknowledged  to  be  a  Yestal ;  but  she  is  unquestion- 
ably very  ancient* — too  ancient  to  be  perfect.  There  is  an 
admirable  goat  dose  beside  her,  which  I  liked  much  better ; 
and  there  is  the  statue  of  the  little  Harpocrates,  holding  up 
his  finger  and  looking  wise— a  sod  I  always  admire,  though 
I  cannot  be  reckoned  among  his  disciples.  Pray,  can  you  tell 
me  why  the  ancients  gave  the  Qod  of  Silence  a  cornucopia? 

The  best  view  of  the  Pantheon  is  from  the  windows  of 
this  palace.  I  saw  it  by  moonlight,  when  the  softened  light 
gleamed  beautifully  in  silver  lines  upon  the  tail  columns  of 
tho  portico,  more  distinctly  marked  by  the  dark  shade  of 
the  intercolumniations,  while  the  serenity  of  the  s^,  and 
the  stillness  that  reigned  over  eveiy  thing,  made  its  Deauty 
more  deeply  felt. 

*  Winkelman  "  dar^  not  maintain  that  it  is  the  work  of  any 
Etmacan  artist;'  but  thinks  it  is  "  perhaps,  the  most  ancient  statue  in 
Borne. 


Digitized  by 


Google 


124  XOKX. 

You  will  wonder  wliat  took  me  to  the  GKiuitiziiani  VtiBcih' 
at  night,  but  we  hjippened  to  be  diniog^  with  Count  Funchali^ 
the  rortaguese  ambaMador,  wbo  lives  tbeie ;  and,  as  it  waflf 
moonlight,  I  took  the  opnortunitj  of  looking  oat  at  i3a» 
Pantheon;  ever  since  whicn  time,  his  excellency  has  entiof^. 
tained  a  rooted  conviction  that  I  am  slightly  deranged ;  aiid> 
never  sees  me  without  asking,  if,  when  the  moon  is  at  the 
full,  I  will  not  return  to  h^  house  to  see  the  Pantheon^ 
**  Well,  that  is  what  I  don't  understand,"  said  an.  Italian' 
Principessa,  when  he  told  her  of  this  extraordinaty  fancj  of 
mine — "  for,  certainlj,  one  can  see  plainer  in  the  daj-time 
than  the  night."  • 

Palazzo  BosaHSSE. 

The  Palazzo  Bor^hese,  one  of  the  largest  and  handsomest 
palaces  in  Eome,  is  now  inhabited  omj  hj  Pauline,  the 
sister  of  Buonaparte,  and  the  wife  of  the  Pirince  Borghese, 
who  himself  lives  constantly  at  Florence.  This  bunding, 
which  would  seem  large  enough  to  contain  some  hundreds  of 
people,  is,  apparently,  too  small  for  a  single  lady ;  for  there 
is  another,  *'  JJ  Palazzo  deUa  Bamiglia  Borghese,^^  to  which 
my  unlucl^  stars  once  conducted  me ;  and  its  filth  and  foul 
oaours  have  left  an  uneffaceable  impression  upon  the  re- 
membrance. The  famiglia^  in  modem  as  in  ancient  Soman 
davs,  means  the  servants;  and  not  the  domestic  servants 
only,  but  the  tradespeople,  all  of  whom  are  included  in  this 
comprehensive  term ;  and  this  horrible  hole,  of  which  I  have 
been  speaking,  is  inhabited  by  the  artisans  who  are,  as  well 
as  by  many  who  are  not,  employed  in  the  service  of  the 
Borghese. 

When  a  Eoman  prmce  has,  or  hady  a  grand  entertainment, 
(for  such  a  thing  rarely  occurs  now,)  all  the  tailors,  shoe- 
makers, joiners,  carpenters,  upholsterers,  smiths,  and  arti- 
sans, whom  he  employed,  were  dressed  out  in  state  liveries, 
kept  for  this  purpose  finom  generation  to  generation ;  and, 
for  the  time  being,  were  turned  into  footmen.    Therefore  it 

*  Kon  lo  capiflco— <U  certo,  si  pud  vedere  piU  chlaro  da  giomo  che 
danotte. 


Digitized  by 


Google 


Digitized  by 


Google 


ITAUAir  HBBTAim .  125 

was  no  uncommon  thing  on  the  day  of  a  ftte  to  see  half  a 
hundred  liyeiy  eer^ants ;  but  if  jou  returned  when  it  was 
over,  JOU  would  not  find  half  a  dozen. 

It  18  a  literal  fact  that,  happening  to  return  to  the  PAhMse 
of  a  Eoman  nobleman  rather  earlj  on  the  morning  aoter  a 
ball,  in  order  to  inquire  after  a  croBS  of  jewels  I  had  lost,  I 
found,  in  the  gre^fc  hall,  piles  of  liyerj-coats,  and  the  Frinci- 
pessa  herself  teUing  them  oyer. 

It  was  not,  howeyer,  the  Prindpessa  Borghese,  who  is  a 
Terr  different  personage. 

Some  years  ago  Oanoya  scuptured  a  statue  of  this  lady,  as 
Yenus,  and  it  is  esteemed  by  himself  one  of  the  yery  best  of 
his  works.  No  one  else  can  have  an  opportunity  or  judging 
of  it,  for  the  prince,  who  certainly  is  not  jealous  of  his  wife's 
person,  is  so  jealous  of  her  statue,  that  he  keeps  it  locked  up 
in  a  room  of  the  Bor^ese  Palace  at  Bome,  of  which  he 
keeps  the  key,  and  not  a  human  being,  not  eyen  Ganoya 
himself,  can  get  access  to  it. 

The  fine  Museum  of  Sculpture  which  the  prince  gave  to 
Buonaparte  in  exchange  for  the  bubble  of  the  Yiceroyalty 
of  Turm,  is  irreparably  gone ;  but  the  principal  part  of  the 
paintings  are  now  restored,  and  form  by  far  me  best  collec- 
tion of  any  in  Bome.  They  appear  to  eyery  disadyantage, 
for  they  are  arranged  in  a  suite  of  yery  ill-lighted  apartments 
on  the  ground-floor;  the  only  ground-floor  I  ever  remember 
to  haye  seen  inhabited  in  Bome. 

The  Domenichinos,  the  Titians,  and  the  Albanos,  are  cer- 
tainly the  finest  in  Bome.  Domenicluno's  Sibyl^  and  his 
Aborts  of  Diana  and  her  Nymphs,  are  works  that  no  praise 
of  mine  can  do  justice  to.  1  haye  returned  to  them  again 
and  again  with  undiminished  delight,  and  found  them  as 
new,  and  quite  as  beautiM,  the  twentieth  time  as  the 
first.  They  are  by  far  the  finest  of  this  fine  collection  of 
paintings. 

Titian's  Graces  are  yery  fat,  not  yery  young,  and  dressed 
in  yery  old-fashioned  gowns;  but  they  are  exquisitely  painted. 
They  are  employed  in  binding  Oupid.  But,  out  of  Venice, 
I  haye  seen  nothing  of  Titifoi's  to  compare  to  his  Sacred 
and  Profane  Loye,  which  is  here.  It  represents  two  figures, 
one,  a  heayenly  and  youthful  form,  unclothed,  except  with  a 


Digitized  by 


Google 


126  Bon. 

light  drapery;  tho  other^  a  lovely  female,  dressed  in  the  most 
splendid  attire ;  both  are  sitting  on  the  brink  of  a  well,  into 
which  a  little  winged  Love  is  groping,  apparently  to  find  his 
lost  dart. 

Description  can  give  you  no  idea  of  the  oonsummate  beauty 
of  this  beautiful  composition.  It  has  all  Titian's  matchless 
warmth  of  colouring,  with  a  correctness  of  design  no  other 
painter  of  the  Venetian  School  ever  attained.  It  is  nature, 
but  not  individual  nature ;  it  is  ideal  beauty  in  all  its  per- 
fection, and  breathing  life  in  all  its  truth,  that  we  belK>ld. 
And,  if  the  character  of  Profane  Love  has  too  much  in  it  of 
Sacred,  such  is  the  charm  of  the  expression,  tliat  what  we 
criticise  as  a  fault,  we  yet  admire  as  a  beauty.    For  this 

Eowerful  genius  has  not  only  called  down  Divine  Love  from 
eaven,  but  ^ven  to  Earthly  Love  that  character  of  senti- 
ment and  feeling  that  allies  it  to  divinity. 

There  are  several  other  Titians,  and  some  yeTj  fine  ones. 
His  Prodigal  Son  is  a  splendid  painting.  The  Woman 
kneeling  in  Supplication  before  Christ,  wants  the  greatness 
of  manner  his  better  works  display. 

Here  are  Y onuses  in  abundance ;  but  the  true  painter 
of  Venus,  in  my  opinion,  was  Albani.  It  was  he  who  in- 
vested her  with  those  captivating  graces  and  charms  tiiat 
seem  to  spring  from  the  magic  cestus,  and  proclaim  her  the 
Queen  of  Love.  It  may  be  a  £i>ult,  the  continual  repetition, 
of  the  same  &ce  in  all  his  paintiQe;s,  however  lovely  and 
engaging ;  but  when  we  remember  that  it  was  the  counte- 
nance of  his  wife  he  loved  to  draw,  we  willingly  pardon  it. 

He  has  represented  Venus  in  four  different  pictures; 
1st,  borne  on  her  triumphant  car,  and  surrounded  by  her 
laughing  Loves ;  2ndly,  equippii^  herself  at  her  toilette ; 
3r<uy,  busy  at  Vulcan's  furnace,  rorging  arrows  for  Cupid; 
and,  lastly,  gazing  enamoured  upon  Adonis,  which  is  the 
masterpiece  of  the  whole. 

David  with  Gbliath's  Head  is  a  masterly  work  of  Cara- 
vaggio's.  It  has  all  his  strong  lights  and  nervous  energy; 
but  it  wants  what  he  always  wanted,  elevation ;  though  the 
ghastly  expression  of  the  head,  the  livid  lips,  and  the  d^ndlj 
paleness  of  David  himself,  gave  it  all  the  norrible  effect  he 
could  have  desired. 


Digitized  by 


Google 


St.  Anthony  Preaching  to  the  Fishes,  bj  Fbul  YeronaBe, 
is  one  of  the  oddest  paintings  I  ever  saw.  The  saint  is  on  a 
rock,  and  hi9  %are,  especiaUy  his  right  leg,  is  much  admired 
hj  the  cognoscenti.  The  groups  that  surround  him,  in 
various  listening  attitudes,  are  admirable;  but  they  occupy 
only  one  small  corner  of  the  picture ;  the  rest  is  one  waste 
of  Dright  dauby  green — sea  and  sky,  douda  and  ether,  all 
the  same  shade  of  grass-green.  I  concluded  that  the  blues 
had  turned  green,  never  oonceiring  that  any  body  would 
thiok  of  painting  a  green  sky;  but  was  assured  by  a  con* 
noisseur  ihat  it  was  quite  correct,  and  done  on  purpose;  that 
the  painting  would  otherwise  have  been  worth  nothing,  and 
that  it  was  extremely  fine.  If  so,  it  is  certainly  the  most 
simple  receipt  for  fine  painting  I  ever  heard  of. 

BEffmegiano's  St.  Catharine,  his  favourite  subject,  has  great 
grace  and  sweetness  in  the  face,  great  elegance  and  flow  of 
outline,  and  none  of  his  usual  affectation. 

I  cannot  give  the  same  praise  to  Leda,  by  Leonardo  da 
Vinci,  which  is  distorted,  even  to  Rightfulness,  with  excess 
of  affectation. 

Elizabeth  Sirani's  painting,  on  touch-stone,  of  Judith  in 
the  act  of  prayer,  before  she  muiders  the  sleeping  Holo- 
femes,  is  by  mr  the  best  of  her  productions  I  have  ever 
seen.  A  mere  imitator  can  never  be  great,  and  she  was  cer- 
tainly a  mere  imitator  of  Guido ;  but  in  this  little  work  she 
seems  to  have  felt  the  true  spirit  of  her  master. 

A  landscape,  by  Annibale  Carracci,  is  a  beautiful  compo- 
sition, and  the  head  of  St.  Erancis  is  extremely  fine.  Oigon's 
St.  !EVancis,  a  full-length,  is  an  excellent  painting.  The 
divine  expression  of  the  uplifted  eyes,  and  the  hands  clasped 
in  transport,  the  force  of  the  design,  and  the  glow  of 
colouring,  are  admirably  thrown  out  by  the  cold  dai^  back- 
ground. 

Christ  tied  to  the  Column,  designed  by  Michael  Angelo 
Buonarotti,  and  painted  by  Sebastian  del  riombo,  is  a  very 
fpnmd  work.  The  Saviour  is  not  too  much  hinnanized;  even 
m  the  lowest  state  of  ignominy  and  degradation,  he  is 
undebased.  The  Divini^  speaks  in  each  gesture  and 
lineament;  and  while  we  execrate  the  impious  hand  that 
could  lift  the  scourge  against  that   suffering    spirit,  we 


Digitized  by 


Google 


128  Mm. 

shudder  ta  tUiik  bqcIi  wretches  were  of  the  same  nature 
with  ouiselyes. 

Baphael's  Deposition  from  the  Cross,  is  said  to  be  one  of 
his  earliest  paintings ;  but  it  is  not  in  the  stiff  stretched-ont 
style  of  Retro  Femgino ;  and  though  it  leas  unquestionabty 
done  before  he  had  staid  long  enough  at  Florence  to  hare 
studied  the  works  of  the  Morentine  School,*  it  is,  even  in 
design,  a  nmsterlj  performance.  The  body  is  being  borne 
to  the  Sepulchre,  and  the  bearers,  and  the  whole  croup  that 
surround  it,  with  all  their  varying  expressions  and  passions, 
are  extremely  fine.  We  behold  grief  under  every  varying 
form.  St.  Peter,  old,  sober,  and  sorrowful;  his  srej  ludrs, 
and  sUent,  composed,  vet  deep-seated  affliction,  finely  con- 
trasting with  the  passionate  sorrow  of  Mary  Magdalen,  at 
his  side ;  but  the  "Virgin,  and  the  unutterable  heart-breaking 
agony  of  spirit  expressed  in  her  fiunting  form,  touches  the 
heart  the  most  powerfully.  It  was  a  beautiful  thought,  for 
painting  could  never  have  expressed  overwh|elming  griei^ 
such  as  hers,  but  by  insensibili^.  The  distinction  bei^een 
her  figure  and  that  of  the  dead  Christ,  is  finely  and  strongly 
marked.  Though  both  are  pale  and  lifeless,  m  her  you  see 
it  is  the  suspension  of  hfe,  in  him  a  total  extinction ;  that 
she  will  revive  to  all  the  bitterness  of  affliction;  but  that  the 
soul  which  animated  his  diviue  form  is  fled  for  ever. 

The  coldness,  the  rigidity,  the  insensibility  of  death,  are 
strikingly  portra3red ;  but  those  touching  features,  and  that 
paUid  corpse,  while  they  tell  of  mortal  sorrows  and  suffer- 
ings, still  bear  the  hope  and  the  sublimity  that  are  triumph- 
ant over  the  grave ;  and  we  gaze  upon  them  till  we  almost 
exclaim, — ^**  How  beautiful  is  death ! ' 

Baphael's  admirable  Forfcrait  of  that  monster  CsBsar 
Borgia,  his  fine  Fortrait  of  a  Cardinal,  Benvenuto  Garo- 
ffilo's  Deposition  from  the  Cross,  Gior£;ione's  Saul  and  Go- 
liath's Read  (exquisite  colouring),  a  lovely  Yenus  in  the 
Bath,  by  GiuHo  Bomano,  Venus  and  Adonis,  by  Luca  Cam- 
biasi,  Lanfranco's  Oreo  seizing  Lucilla  (from  Ariosto),  and 
Leonello  Spada's  exquisite  Concert  of  six  men  and  a  boy, 
are  amongst  the  pictures  I  remember  best.    But  this  cata- 

*  Lanzi,  Storia  Plttoiica. 


Digitized  by 


Google 


BOSGHXIV  Cb^LLBBT. 


lo^ne,  unooiiflcionable  as  you  may  tbink  it,  does  not  com- 
pnse  one  half  of  those  worth  notice  in  this  oollection,  which 
contains  the  greatest  number  of  fine  ones,  and  the  fewest 
bad^  of  any  in  Borne. 


TOL.  n. 


Digitized  by 


Google 


180  soxi« 


LETTER  LXV. 
"Palazzo  Lttciaito. 

LxroiEN  BtroNAPABTE,  the  prince  of  Oanino,  has  purchased 
a  large  palace  in  the  Via  de'  Condotti,  for  his  winter  re- 
sidence. A  very  small  part  of  it  is  inhabited  hj  himself; 
the  rest  is  let  to  a  variety  of  lodgers.  This  seems  somewhat 
extraordinary,  since  he  is  said  to  be  immensely  rich. 

I  cannot  applaud  his  liberality  in  refusing  all  strangers, 
excepting  those  personally  acquainted  with  Mm,  permissioa 
to  view  the  admirable  paintings  his  fine  taste  has  coUected. 
We,  indeed,  were  not  sufferers  by  this  illiberal,  and  I  fear, 
more  peculiarly  our  English  system,  being  among  the  pri- 
vilegea  few ;  but-  the  more  we  admired  them,  the  more  we 
regretted  the  general  exclusion  of  our  countrymen  horn  the 
PsQazzo  Luciano. 

This  collection  is  small,  but  entirely  composed  of  masteiv 
pieces,  and  kept  in  beautiful  preservation ;  a  very  unusual 
circumstance  in  £ome.  Many  of  the  famous  pictures  of  the 
Giustiniani  Gallery  have  found  their  way  here. 

The  Massacre  of  the  Lmocents,  a  most  masterly,  but 
horror-striking  pamting,  by  Nicholas  Poussin,  makes  us 
shudder  while  we  gaze,  yet  rivets  us  before  it.  It  is  a  com- 
plete tragedy.  The  agony  of  the  mother  is  given,  even  to 
the  extremity  of  nature  itself,  and  her  screams  seem  to  reud 
the  very  heart. 

Christ  before  Pilate,  the  masterpiece  of  Gherardo  delle 
Kotti,  is  extremely  fine ;  and  he  must  be  wedded  to  system 
indeed,  who  would  refuse  his  admiration  to  such  a  work,  be- 
cause, forsooth,  *  he  does  not  approve  of  candle-lights.'  No 
lights  wiU  enlighten  such  critics  as  these — critics  who  think 
and  feel  by  rule,  and  never  know  what  it  is  to  yield  to  the 
Ijipontaneous  judgment  of  nature  and  truth. 

But,  among  aU  the  various  and  inviting  attractions  of  this 
collection,  the  masterpieces  of  the  Caracei  drew  my  unsa- 


Digitized  by 


Google 


PALAWI  LrCIAHO.  181 

tiated  admirstioii.  I  can  find  no  words  to  opeak  my  praue 
of '  Cbrist  ^ving  sight  to  the  Blind,'  hj  Ludovico  Cancel ; 
'Christ  and  Marr  Magdalen,'  hj  Annibale  Caracd;  or 
'  Baising  the  Widow's  Child  from  the  dead,'  hj  Aeostino 
Caracd.  I  may  be  wrong,  but  to  me,  these  works  of  these 
three  great  masters  surpass  eren  the  celebrated  ones  at 
Bologna.  Thej  are,  indeed,  works  of  such  surpassing  per- 
fection that  I  may  not  trust  myself  to  speak  my  sense  of 
their  beauty,  for  I  feel  that  I  could  not  restrain  myself;  and 
that,  like  Dr.  Johnson,  I  can  better  practise  abstinence  than 
temperance.  For  the  same  reason  I  lorbear  to  describe  (nor 
eould  I)  the  exquisitely  beautiful  Holy  Family  of  Baphael ; 
(Za  Madonna  de*  Oandelahri;)  Christ  and  the  Woman  of 
Samaria,  by  Qiulio  Bomano;  Titian's  Diana  suiprised  by 
Acts^n ;  Domenichino's  Saint  John  and  other  Samts,  ador- 
ing the  Virgin;  GKddo's  St.  Cecilia,  (a  divine  head,  in  a 
turban,  playing  on  the  violin ;)  Christ  expiring  on  the  Cross, 
designea  by  Michael  Angelo  Buonarotti;  and  many  other 
first-rate  paintings.  Here  are  some  noble  portraits.  One 
of  the  Dukes  d'Urbino,  (I  could  not  leam  which ;  and  could 
only  hope  it  was  that  of  the  good  and  great  Federijgo,)  by 
Baphael;  Bubens,  by  Vandyke;  one  of  Bubens's  Wives,  by 
himself;  Francis  I.,  by  Holbein ;  and  several  others, 
e  Our  artists  complain  that  portrait-painting  cramps  their 
genius,  and  ruins  their  fame.  But  these  are  portraits  that, 
of  themselyes,  would  confer  immortality  on  the  hfmd  that 
painted  them.  !Neyer,  then,  let  it  be  said,  that  this  branch 
of  the  art  affords  no  field  for  eminence.  If  Baphael,  and 
O^tian,  and  Gioi^one,  and  Bubens,  and  Bembrandt  and 
Vandyke,  and  Velasquez,  had  neyer  painted  any  thing  else, 
their  works  would  have  been  invaluable,  and  their  names 
imperishable. 

Here  is  an  admirable  painting  by  Van  Molle,  Diogenes 
idth  a  lantern  looking  out  for  an  Honest  Man;  an  Old 
Woman  vdth  a  Do^,  by  Francesco  Mola  (capii^);  and 
Modesty  and  Vanity,  oy  Leonardo  da  Vinci,  a  duplicate,  (per- 
haps the  original,)  of  that  in  the  Sciarra  Palace.  But  this  is 
only  rehearsmg  a  list  of  names — ^names  that  call  up  to  me 
all  the  unspeaJcable  beauty  of  the  originals,  but  which,  to 
you,  must  be  a  dull,  dry,  unmeaning  catalogue. 

K  2 


Digitized  by 


Google 


182  tOKM. 


LBTTEBLXVL 

Palazzo  Nuovo  m  Toblowia.— Paiazzo  FAixioirasEi— * 
CAMUoonn  aitd  his  Colleotiok. 

NoBiLiTT  ifl  more  oertamlj  the  fruit  of  wealth  in  Itafy 
than  in  England.  Here,  where  a  title  and  estate  are  sold 
together,  a  man  who  can  buy  the  one  secures  the  other. 
Prom  the  station  of  a  lacquey,  an  Italian  who  can  amads 
riches,  may  rise  to  that  of  a  duke.  Thus  Torlonia,  the 
Boman  banker,  purchased  the  title  and  the  estate  of  the 
Duca  di  Bracdano,  fitted  up  the  JPalazzo  Nuovo  di  2hrlonia 
with  all  the  ma^;nificence  that  wealth  commands;  and  a 
marble  gallery,  with  its  polished  walls,  lofty  columns,  inlaid 
floors,  Inodem  statues,  painted  ceilings,  and  ^ded  furnitur^, 
far  outshines  the  faded  splendour  of  the  halls  of  the  old 
Boman  nobility. 

The  new  gdlery  is  adorned  with  Canova's  colossal  group 
of  Hercules  and  Lychas,  which  is  by  no  means  one  of  his 
finest  works.  Like  Guide,  the  forte  sMe  is  not  suited  to  his 
beautiful  genius ;  and  the  sculptor  of  Venus,  with  all  her 
smiling  ti^in  of  Loves  and  G-races,  could  not  do  justice  to 
the  frantic  giant,  maddened  with  the  pain  of  the  poisoned 
immtle,  and  hurling  its  wretched  bearer  into  the  gulf— a  hor- 
rible subject,  which  would  have  suited  Michael  Angelo,  if  it 
had  suited  statuary  at  alL 

The  fresco  of  the  Marriage  of  Cupid  and  Psyche,  by 
Camucdni, — incomparably  the  first  modem  historical  painter 
of  Italy, — ^unhappify  reminds  one  of  BaphaeVs  beautiful 
&ble  in  the  Eamesina.  But  the  composition  is  good  with« 
out  plagiarism,  and  it  is  admirably  designed.  In  design, 
indeed,  Camuccini  excels ;  and  it  is  no  light  praise.  I  can- 
not say  so  much  for  the  colouring ;  and  on  this  account,  the 
'Original  sketch,  which  we  saw  at  his  own  studio,  is  fiur  supe- 
rior  to  the  finished  painting. 


Digitized  by 


Google 


GAIiLEBY  OF  OABDINAL  FESCH.  IM 


Palazzo  FM.coinxsi. 

'  The  Palazzo  Palconieri,  when  this  work  was  first  published, 
was  occupied  bj  Cardinal  Fesch,  the  uncle  of  Bonaparte, 
and  contained  a  large  and  valuable  collection  of  the  Italian, 
Plemish,  and  Erench  schools.  It  is  now  dispersed  in  con- 
sequence of  his  death,  and  consequently  would  have  been 
passed  over  unnoticed  but  for  one  remarkable  work,  the 
^lutation  of  Elizabeth,  origuially  painted  in  fresco  on  the 
wall  of  the  Church  of  Santa  Maria  deUa  Pace,  in  which  are 
the  Sybils  of  Baphael,  and  taken  off  on  canvas  (that  hazardous 
operation)  in  which  the  Prench  destroyed,  as  was  supposed 
irremediablj,  the  great  masterpiece  of  Daniel  da  Yolterra, 
although  it  was  subsequently  almost  miraculously  restored 
by  a  secret  process  invented  bj  Camuccioi.  But  this  admi- 
rable paintmg  (the  Salutation  of  Elizabeth)  designed  by 
Michel  Angelo,  and  painted  by  Sebastian  del  Piombo,  to 
whose  merits  no  description  of  mine  can  do  justice,  was  suc- 
cessfully transfered  from  fresco  to  canvas,  and  was,  as  I  have 
stated,  m  the  possession  of  Cardinal  Fesch  up  to  his  death. 
Where  it  is  now  and  who  is  the  fortunate  possessor  of  this 
treasure,  I  know  not. 

The  whole  of  Cardinal  Eesch's  noble  gallery  of  pictures 
was  offered  by  him,  in  the  last  years  of  his  life,  for  sale  to  the 
English  government,  for  an  annuity  of  £4iOOO  per  anntmi ! 
I  do  not  hesitate  to  say  that  this  single  picture  was  worth  the 
price  to  the  British  nation.  The  works  of  the  great  masters 
are  too  few  and  too  inaccessible  in  our  country  to  those  who 
most  require  their  study — ^young  artists,  whose  early  promise 
is  often  entirely  bhghted  by  the  want  of  this  inestimable 
advantage.  This  large  and  varied  collection  would  have  formed 
the  nucleus  of  a  grand  national  museum  of  paintings,  not 
then  even  projected,  nor  until  long  afterwards.  But  this 
great  opportunity,  by  the  parsimony  of  our  government,  in 
all  that  relates  to  the  Pine  Arts,  was  lost  for  ever. 

Another  of  the  treasures  of  this  collection  was  the  Ascen- 
sion, by  Guide,  one  of  the  most  splendid  of  his  works.  The 
grandeur  of  conception,  the  glowing;  colouring,  and  the  divine 
expression  of  the  Virgin's  face^  radiant  like  that  of  a  celestial 


Digitized  by 


Google 


184  soicKi 

beioj;  or  beatified  spirity  ''with  less  of  earth  in  it  than  hea- 
Ten,  can  never  be  forgottoi.  It  aeems,  literaQj,  one  blaze 
of  glory. 

This  reminds  me  of  another  admirable  picture  of  Ghiido's 
— the  two  Mary's  weeping  at  the  foot  of  the  Cross.  Dark* 
ness  covers  the  earth.  The  pale  and  cold  form  of  the  cruci- 
fied Eedeemer — ^the  divine  expression  of  his  face,  even  in 
death — ^and  the  agony  of  the  soul  that  darkens  the  counten* 
anees  of  the  two  Mary's — ^find  their  way  to  the  heart. 

This  picture,  with  many  others  of  rare  merit,  was  in  the 
private  collection  of  Gamuccini,  who  ranked  highest  among 
the  modem  painters  of  Borne  when  this  work  was  first  pub- 
lished; and  though  probably  this  most  choice  collection  has 
been  dispersed  by  his  death,  I  cannot  forbear  enumerating  a 
few  of  them,  particularly  Q-uido's  Madonna  adoring  the 
!bifant  Chnst.  The  infimt  was  perfectly  enchanting;  the 
glossy  smoothness  and  purity  of  the  skin — ^the  sweetness 
and  innocence  of  the  slumber — ^the  health  of  the  cheek — and 
the  nature  *and  grace  of  the  attitude,  could  not  be  su]T)assed. 

This  is  a  proof  that  Guido  knew  how  to  suit  his  colouring 
to  his  subject.  The  rosy  hues  of  infSancv,  in  his  sleeping 
children,  and  the  dazzling  brightness  of  his  Ascension,  are 
not  less  adapted  to  their  peculiar  expressions,  than  those 
pale  silveinr  tones,  that  give  such  pathos  to  the  countenances 
of  his  suffering  martyrs,  his  supplicating  Magdalens,  or  his 
sainted  Madonnas.  What  I  have  heard  called  the  faults  of 
Guido's  colouring,  I  have  often  felt  are  beauties.  They 
accord  so  touchingly  with  the  expression,  that  the  want  of 
glow  and  life  is  more  than  compensated  by  their  sweetness 
and  perfect  harmony. 

But  perhaps  the  gem  of  this  choice  collection  was  a  beau- 
tiful little  original  sketch,  by  Baphael,  in  sepia;  a  mere 
scratch  on  a  bit  of  parchment ;  which,  more  than  the  **  circle 
drawn  at  a  stroke,'  marks  the  masterly  genius  of  that  incom- 
parable painter.  Although  not  lar^r  thm  my  hand,  yet  what 
IS  there  that  the  most  finished  pamting  should  have,  that  is 
wanting  to  this  hasty  sketch  ?  The  astonishing  genius  of 
the  composition,  the  chasteness  of  the  desi^,  and  the  pow- 
erful expression,  I  can  never  sufficiently  admire.  The  subject 
is  the  I>epo8ition  of  Christ,  in  the  moment  in  which  his 


Digitized  by 


Google 


VAUOSaO  VAX.001CIXBI.  135 

Bttnted  form  is  to  be  deposited  within  its  Iftst  eartbk  home, 
hj  his  cUflciples.  The  grouping  of  such  a  number  or  figures 
in  80  small  a  space,  the  yanous  expressions  of  the  same  paa* 
skm — ^but,  aboTe  all,  the  Virgin  in  an  agony  of  affliction,  em* 
bracing  the  feet  of  Jesus, — ^her  long  nair  falling  over  her 
head,  and  her  figure,  her  action,  her  hidden  countenance, 
more  deeply  expressive  of  the  abandonment  and  desolation 
of  srief,  than  all  that  the  most  laboured  effects  of  the  pencil 
oomd  otherwise  have  done — ^are  txt  beyond  my  feeble  praise. 

Esther  before  Ahasuerus,  from  the  Barberini  Collection, 
one  of  Ghiercino's  finest  works,  and  in  his  best  style,  was 
also  here. 

The  portrait  of  Scaliger,  bjr  Annibale  Caracci;  and  that  of 
Sebastian  del  Piombo,  exquisitely  painted  by  himself,  are 
truly  admirable ;  also  the  portrait  of  Lavinia,  Marchesa  di 
Pescara,  by  birth  one  of  the  princesses  of  the  Golonna  family, 
said  to  be  designed  by  M.  A.  Buonarotti,  and  painted  by 
Harcello  VenustL  This  distinguished  woman  waa  the  Mend 
of  Michael  Angelo,  and  of  every  contemporary  man  of  genius, 
and  was  hersen  a  being  of  most  extraordinary  endowments. 
She  was  a  celebrated  improvisatrice,  and  gemus,  sensibility, 
and  intelligence  beam  on  her  beautiful  &ce.  She  has  chosen 
to  be  drawn  with  no  symbols  of  science — a  pretty  little  dog 
is  sitting  on  her  arm. 

The  Sketch  of  a  Head,  by  Leonardo  da  Yinci;  and  an 
Ecce  Homo,  by  GadLo  Dolce,  are  extremely  fine.  So  also,  is 
a  beautiful  little  group  of  Cupid  borne  along  by  the  Loves, 
who  are  sporting  around  him,  by  Quido. 

There  was  a  Claude,  a  duplibate  of  one  in  the  Louvre — a 
Sea-port,  Boats,  Ships,  and  figures  on  the  Beach,  illumined 
by  those  golden  beams  of  sunset  that  Claude  alone  could 
paint. 

The  Gods  and  Goddesses,  travestied,  holding  a  sort  of 
burlesque  masquerade,  is  a  veiy  curious  and  valuable  painting, 
by  Gian  Bellini,  the  master  of  Titian,  and  father  of  the 
V  enetian  School  The  landscape,  which  is  painted  by  Titian, 
is,  like  all  Titian's  landscapes,  truly  beautind.  Gian  Bellini 
was  &r  superior  to  his  brother,  Gentile  Bellini,  whose  fame, 
however,  must  have  spread  even  to  the  utmost  depths  of  the 
Ottoman  seraglio,  for  Mahomet  11.  invited  him  to  Constan- 


Digitized  by 


Google 


186  BOMS. 

tinople,  Bat  to  him  for  his  picture,  loaded  him  with  presents, 
and  treated  the  painter  of  Venice  with  all  the  pomp  and 
splendour  of  Asiatic  magnificence.  But  it  unluckily  hap- 
pened that  Gentile  painted  a  Decollation  of  St.  John  the 
Baptist;  and  Mahomet,  who,  no  doubt,  had  firequentlj 
studied  the  subject  in  nature,  descried  a  defect  in  the  man- 
ner in  which  the  blood  spouted  out  in  the  picture,  and,  after 
making  his  criticism,  very  cooUy  turned  round,  and  ordered 
the  head  of  a  slave  who  happened  to  stand  near  him  to  be 
instantly  struck  off  before  their  eyes,  by  way  of  illustration, 
in  order  that  Gentile  might  see  his  error.  The  unfortunate 
paini^r  was  so  terrified  at  this  sight,  that  he  scarcely  felt 
certain  that  his  own  head  was  upon  his  shoulders,  and  neither 
could  sleep  by  night  nor  rest  by  day,  till  he  obtained  Maho- 
met's permission  to  return  to  Venice,  where  heads  were  not 
chopped  off  by  way  of  experiment. 

Camuccini  possessed  some  exquisite  firescos  of  Domeni- 
chino,  which,  for  want  of  room,  were  locked  up  in  a  sort  of 
coach-house,  along  with  some  marbles,  of  the  most  beauti^ 
sculpture,  brought  from  the  Forum  of  Trajan ;  those  in  alto- 
relievo  were  amongst  the  finest  I  ever  saw. 

What  may  have  become  of  these  invaluable  treasures  of 
art  now,  I  Imow  not. 


Digitized  by 


Google 


7ALA8E0  coRsnrt.  187 


LETTEELXVn. 


The  Pasitesika,  Ths  Cobbiki,  ajstd  Easitsbi  Palaces. 

Yoir  may  generaDy  form  a  tolerably  correct  conjecture  of 
what  a  gallery  will  contain,  as  to  subject,  before  you 
enter  it. 

A  certain  quantity  of  Landscapes,  a  great  many  Holy 
Pamilies,  a  few  CrucifixionB,  two  or  three  Pietiis,  a  reason- 
able proportion  of  St.  Jeromes,  a  mixture  of  other  Saints 
and  Martyrdoms,  and  a  large  assortment  of  Madonnas  and 
Magdalens,  make  up  the  principal  part  of  all  the  collections 
in  Kome ;  which  are  generally  composed  of  quite  as  many  bad 
as  good  paintings,  like  this  at  the  Corsini  Palace. 

How  much  more  pleasure  there  would  be  in  seeing  them, 
if  the  good  were  placed  apart  for  your  inspection,  and  you 
were  not  sickened  and  disgusted  with  the  quantity  of  rubbish 
you  must  sift,  to  find  those  really  worth  looking  at ! 

I  have  been  persecuted  all  this  morning  with  a  connois- 
seur, fiill  of  the  cant  of  connoisseurship  witnout  one  particle 
of  real  feeling  for  the  beauties  of  the  art — a  man  who  walks 
about  the  world,  seeing,  and  thinking,  and  feeling,  with 
other  peoples'  eyes,  and  understanding,  and  taste— who 
does  not  say  what  he  thinks,  but  thinks  what  he  shidl  say — 
who  is,  in  short  a  determined  dilettanti  by  rule.  But,  per- 
haps, what  he  is  to  me  I  am  to  you,  for,  though  no  connois- 
seur, I  may  be  sufficiently^  wearisome;  and  as  one's  own 
Bufferings  cuspose  one  to  pity  those  of  others,  I  will  endea- 
Tour  to  mitigate  yours,  and  give  you  a  Teiy  short  account  of 
a  very  large  gallery  of  pictures. 

The  first  we  saw  was  the  *  Ecce  Homo*  of  Gnercino,  a 
painting  which,  notwithstanding  the  painful  nature  of  the 
subject,  and  all  its  hackneyed  representations,  is  full  of  such 
deep  and  powerful  expression,  is  so  elevated  in  its  concep- 
tion, and  so  faultless  m  its  execution,  that  it  awakens  our 


Digitized  by 


Google 


196  BOKB. 

Ugheet  admiration,  and  leayea  an  indelible  impression  on 
the  mind. 

There  are  two  fine  portraitB,  Paul  III.  when  Cardinal 
Pamese,  and  Julius  II.,  by  Eaphael.  If  the  last  be  an 
original,  it  is  a  triplicate  at  least,  for  I  have  seen  one  at 
Florence,  another  at  Naples,  and  another  subsequently  at 
Dresden.  There  is,  besiaes,  an  admirable  Portrait  by  Gior- 
gione,  and  a  Babbit,  and  a  Cardinal  by  Albert  Durer ;  two 
Cardmals  by  Domenichino,  and  a  Pope  by  Velasquez — ^aU 
good,  though  Velasquez  does  not,  in  this  effort,  reach  his 
usual  excellence  in  portrait-painting ;  and  Scipione  di  daeta 
has  left  a  portrait  here  which  would  certainly  not  entitle 
him  to  the  name  of  *  the  Vandyke  of  the  Boman  School.' 

Tintoretto's  portrait  of  a  Doge,  I  could  not  be  brought  to 
admire.  That  most  rapid  of  painters  was  also  the  most  un* 
equal,  and  his  inequality  was  unpardonable,  because  wilfuL 
With  more  avidity  for  money  than  fame,  he  would  paint 
pictures  to  any  price,  and  proportion  their  merit  to  their 
cost ;  and  he,  who  could  finish  historical  pieces  faster  than 
others  could  conceive  them,*  would  throw  portraits  off  his 
hands  that  would  have  disgraced  his  meanest  apprentice. 
One  of  the  Albania  in  this  collection,  in  which  Cupid  is 
supplicating  Venus  to  restore  his  arrows  which  she  has 
tasen  from  him,  is  full  of  c;race  and  beauty. 

Murillo's  Virgin  and  Child  is  a  splendid  piece  of  colour- 
ing, and  nature  itself;  but  there  is  nothing^  elevated  or  ideal 
in  it.  Let  us  fancy  it  a  mother  and  baby  m  the  lower  walks 
of  life,  and  it  will  have  no  fault. 

To  Caravaggio's  Holy  Familjr  the  same  remark  applies. 
There  is  nothmg  holy  in  it ;  but  it  is  a  beautifulpaanting  in 
its  way,  and  true  to  nature.  Fra  Bartolomeo's  Holy  Family 
is  of  a  much  higher  class,  and  is  one  of  the  best  of  hia 
works  in  Borne.  Many  other  good,  though  not  first-rate 
paintings,  are  dispersed  about  the  rooms;  amongst  these, 
a  spirited  Tiger  Hunt,  by  Bubens,  in  his  best  style,  caught 
our  attention.    There  are  two  beautiful  little  landscapes  by 

*  He  completed  his  grand  oompoeition  in  the  Scuola  di  Sant'  Bocoo, 
before  the  other  artists  employed  to  paint  the  rest  of  the  hall  had  half 
done  their  sketches.  Nobody  can  judge  of  Tintoretto  oat  of  Venice^ 
any  more  than  of  Baphael  out  of  Borne. 


Digitized  by 


Google 


OOBSIKI  0A&DXK8.  189 

Sahrator  Eosa,  without  bis  umial  manneriflm  and  bluckneas. 
But  the  real  treasures  of  the  collection  are  the  landsci^B  of 
Ghispar  Foussin ;  one,  in  particular,  which  they  call  Binaldo 
and  Armida,  cerfcainlj  has  something  of  the  witchery  of  the 
enchantress  about  it,  for  it  charmed  me  so  much,  that  I 
returned  to  the  palace  again  and  again  to  look  at  it.  A 
Judith  with  the  head  of  Holofemes,  which  I  saw  this  mor^ 
ning,  reminded  me  a  little  of  that  exquisite  painting  Jbr  Bron- 
zino,*  of  the  same  subject,  in  the  Palazzo  Htti  at  Florence. 
The  extreme  calmness  and  placidity  which  Judith  usually 
wears  after  perpetrating  a  deed  of  such  blood  and  horror, 
is  surely  unnatural  and  disgusting.  Perhaps  there  is  no- 
thing so  revolting  as  the  semblance  of  cruelty  in  woman. 
Painters  would  do  well  to  remember  Aristotle  s  precept  to 
the  sex, — "that  women  should  never  leave  theur  natural 
character,  nor  appear  invested  with  cruelty  or  boldness." 

This  palace  was  the  habitation  of  Christina  of  Sweden, 
who  certainly  did  not  follow  that  excellent  precept.  The 
room  in  which  she  died  is  distinguished  by  two  columns  of 
yellow-painted  wood.  This  collection  of  paintings  has  been 
formed  since  her  death.  So  also  has  the  library,  which  is  a 
very  fine  one,  and  possesses  a  most  valuable  collection  of 
prints ;  but  I  will  spare  you  the  description.  Do  not,  how-* 
ever,  forget  to  see  it. 

"With  that  liberality  characteristic  of  the  Italians  in  every 
thing  relating  to  liteniture  and  the  arts,  this  library  is  open 
to  the  public. 

The  gardens  are  quite  in  the  Italian  style,  very  stiff  and 
formal,  divided  with  nigh  evergreen  hedges,  decorated  with 
bad  statues,  and  furnished  vdth  multifarious  aiuoehi  d*  oc- 
gua.  The  war  is  carried  on  most  successfiilhr  against  na- 
ture and  taste;  and  the  grounds  are  more  mghtful  than 
you  would  a  priori  have  thought  it  possible  to  have  made 
them,  beneath  such  a  sky  as  this. 

They  extend  to  the  summit  of  Mount  Janiculum ;  and  the 
view  from  the  Casino  at  the  top  is  said  to  be  very  beauti^, 
though  inferior  to  that  from  8.  Pietro  in  Montorio.  I  will 
not  speak  of  what  I  have  not  seen — ^accidental  circumstances 

*  HU  proper  name  was  Cristofiino  AUori,  detto  il  Bronzino,—- a  title 
sometimes  allso  given  to  his  brothers,  who  were  painters. 


Digitized  by 


Google 


140  BOMl. 


haTepreTenied  me  from  visiting  it,  but  I  haye  no  doubt  tbe 
prospect  would  amply  recompense  the  toil  of  tbe  ascent. 


Thx  PABiTBsnrA. 

The  Corsini  is  one  of  the  many  uninhabited  palaces  in 
the  deserted  region  of  Trastevere.  Exactly  opposite  to  it, 
in  the  long,  wide,  aud  grass-grown  street  of  the  Lungara, 
stands  the  Eamesina,  a  melancholy  Casino,  which  was  origi- 
nally built  for  the  scene  of  a  grand  entertainment,  given  by 
a  rich  Soman  banker  to  Leo  X.  But  it  now,  imforhmately, 
belongs  to  the  Boyal  EamiLy  of  Naples ;  and  on  its  damp 
walls  the  frescos  oi  Eaphael  are  shut  up,  and  left  to  moulder 
in  decay. 

The  first  hall  was  painted  by  his  pupils,  but  the  designs 
are  Baphaers. 

These  represent  the  story  of  Cupid  and  Psyche ;  and  the 
whole  of  that  beauti^  fable  from  first  to  last — ^from  the 
dawn  of  passion,  through  the  wrath  and  machinations  of 
Venus, — ^uie  consent  at  last  accorded  by  Jupiter  to  the  sup- 
plications of  the  enamoured  god  for  tne  union,  the  return 
of  Psyche,  conducted  by  Mercury,  from  her  banishment  in 
hell,  to  the  highest  heaven,  and  her  presentation  with  the 
cup  of  immortality — till  the  nuptials  are  crowned  with  the 
banquet  of  the  Gbds,  and  followed  by  the  triumphs  of  the 
Loves, — all  is  told  here.  It  is  a  complete  poem ;  and  I 
do  not  hesitate  to  say,  that  the  beauty,  the  fmcy,  the 
poetic  spirit  of  this  wonderful  composition,  have  never  been 
eq[uallea.  The  red  tints  of  Giulio  Bomano  prevail  in  the 
colouring,  and  prove  that  he  had  the  chief  share  in  the  exe- 
cution. Baphael  himself  retouched  most  parts  of  it ;  and 
the  figure  of  one  of  the  Graces,  whose  beautifrd  shoulders 
and  back  are  turned  to  us,  bears  evident  marks  of  his  pen- 
cil; and  it  is  said,  he  finished  it  with  great  care,  ana  es- 
teemed it  one  of  his  happiest  paintings. 

It  is  said  that  Carlo  Maratti  4id  not  retouch  these  figures, 
when  he  threw  behind  them  the  deep  blue  ground,  which 
certainly  injures  their  fine  effect.    However  this  may  be, 


Digitized  by 


Google 


THS  VAKlrSBIirA.  i4ti 

the  Galatea  in  tHe  next  room  remains  exactly  as  it  was  left 
hj  the  hand  of  Eaphael.  He  not  only  designed,  but  exe- 
cuted it ;  and  faded  as  is  its  colouring,  that  mind  must  be 
dead  to  the  highest  beauties  of  paintmg,  that  can  contem- 
plate  it  mthout  admiration.  The  spirit  and  beautjr  of  the 
composition,  the  pure  and  perfect  design,  the  flowmg  out- 
line, the  soft  and  gracefdl  contours,  and  the  sentiment  and 
sweetness  of  the  expression,  all  remain  imchanged ;  for  time, 
till  it  totaUy  obliterates,  has  no  power  to  injure  them. 

The  Groddess,  standing  on  her  shell,  is  borne  through  the 
waves  hj  two  dolphins.  Her  form,  her  attitude,  and  ex- 
pression, surpass  all  that  your  fancy  can  paint.  The  figures 
of  the  attendant  Nereid,  and  of  the  triumphant  Triton  who 
embraces  her,  are  beautiful  beyond  description. 

The  first  of  ancient  sculptors  would  have  seized  the  beau- 
tiful design  and  expression  of  tbese  figures,  and  transmitted 
them  in  their  works,  for  the  admiration  of  all  succeeding 


IBHilly  to  understand  the  perfection  of  the  desi^,  you 
should  conceive  what  a  beautiful  bas-relief  or  gem  it  would 
make. 

You  are  shown  a  gigantic  black  bead  on  the  wall,  whicb, 
it  is  said,  Michael  £igelo  drew  one  day  while  he  was  wait- 
ing bere  for  Daniel  da  Yolterra,  in  derision  of  the  littleness 
of  Haphael's  design.  This  is  extremely  possible,  for  he 
had  not  the  power  to  portray,  nor  perhaps  to  feel,  the  charm 
of  grace  and  beauty,  or  the  tenderness  of  expression.  He 
could  not  move  the  gentler  feelings  of  the  soul.  The  bold, 
the  colossal,  the  terrible,  and  the  sublime,  were  his ;  but 
feminine  softness  and  sentiment,  and  gentleness  and  ele- 
sance,  were  unknown  to  him.  These  Eaphael  possessed ; 
but  not  to  these  was  he  confined;  for  he  had  elevation, 
grandeur,  dignity,  and  true  sublimity. 

Tl^ere  are  frescos  by  Daniel  da  Volterra,  and  by  Balthazar 
PeruJzzi,  in  this  room ;  but  I  dare  not  give  any  account  of 
them,  for,  to  confess  the  truth,  though  I  have  returned 
to  the  Eamesina  times  without  number,  and  always  with 
a  sincere  intention  to  examine  them,  I  have  never  yet  been 
able  to  bestow  my  attention,  except  for  a  transient  glance, 
'upon  anything  but  the  Galatea  of  Baphael.  ' 


Digitized  by 


Google 


141  soia. 


Thx  Fasitesx  FaXiAOe. 

One  little  inan,  the  Neapolitaii  ambassador,  inliabits  the 
whole  immensitjr  of  the  Famese  Palace.  It  would  have 
been  impossible  to  have  admired  a  building,  however  beau- 
tiful, formed  out  of  the  overthrown  grandeur  of  the  Coloa- 
seum;  and  luckily,  although  the  architecture  of  Michael 
Angelo,  there  is  nothing  to  admire.  Indeed,  it  is  some 
gratification  to  see  that  it  is  quite  as  uglj  as  could  be 
desired.  ^ 

Its  proprietors,  the  kings  of  Staples,  have  carried  to  their 
kingdom  all  the  ancient  sculpture  which  formerlv  adorned 
it ;  but  there  is  the  sarcophagus  of  Cecilia  Metella  in  the 
court,  and  some  fine  marble  statues  in  an  outhouse;  and 
there  is  what  they  could  not  take  away,  the  fistr-famed  gallery, 
painted  in  fresco  by  Annibale  Garacd,  and  for  which,  after 
eight  years  of  imremitted  labour,  that  great  artist  was  re- 
wardea  by  the  munificence  of  Cardinal  Pamese,  with  five 
hundred  crowns ! 

No  one  can  form  a  just  idea  of  the  powers  of  Annibale 
Garacci,  without  seeing  these  astonishing  frescos ;  which  are 
in  themselves  a  school  of  painting. 

The  first  time  I  ever  saw  this  gallery,  was  at  a  ball  given 
by  the  ambassador,  soon  after  I  came  to  Eome.  The  g^ery 
was  brilliantly  lighted  up,  and  my  attention  was  frequently 
drawn  from  the  beauty  of  the  mortals  below  to  the  oeauiy 
of  the  immortals  above.  Nor  were  the  quadrilles  we  were 
dancing  on  the  floor  at  all  to  compare  to  the  sj^irit  of  the 
gracefm  measures  the  Bacchantes  were  performing  on  the 
ceiling. 

It  is  adorned  with  the  Triumph  of  Bacchus  and  Ariadne, 
drawn  in  their  golden  cars  by  tigers,  and  surrounded  by  a 
train  of  Satyrs,  Fauns,  and  Bacchantes,  led  on  by  old 
Silenus.  Classic  fable  forms  the  subject  of  every  picture; 
and  their  numbers,  variety,  and  beauty,  are  astonishing. 
The  Triumph  of  Galatea,  and  Aiux>ra  carrying  off  her  beloved 
Cephalus  in  her  car,  are  by  Agostino  Caracci,  whose  culti- 


Digitized  by 


Google 


VALAZZO  VABirXBI.  148 

Tated  mind,  and  poetic  imagination,  are  said  to  have  mate- 
liallj  assisted  his  Drother  in  the  composition  of  the  whole. 

It  is,  I  believe,  a  mistake,  that  their  master,  Ludoyico 
Caracci,  had  any  share  in  it,  for  he  never  was  at  Borne, 
excepting  for  a  few  weeks,  during  the  whole  time  it  was 
painting.  The  Persons  and  An^omeda,  and  the  Njmph 
and  Umcom,  are  said  to  be  painted  hj  Domenichino  ftom 
Annibale  Caracci's  designs. 

I  will  spare  yon  all  further  description  of  these  admirable 
frescos;  but  I  cannot  recal  them  to  my  memory  without 
delight.  I  have  spent  hours  in  this  gallery,  and  never  left 
it  without  increased  admiration  for  them. 


Digitized  by 


Google 


144  •  BOMS. 


LBTTBE  LXVni. 
QuiBiKAL  Faulce — Palazzo  AuiAm — ^Palazzo  Pohia- 

TOWSEI — GbMS— StaIBCASB    or    THE   PaIiAZZO  BirSPOLI 

— The  Nozze  AiiBOBBAiTDnin — Colossal  ForaEB  at 
Palazzo  Altibea  —  Palazzo  Stoppani — Eaphabl's 
House  —  Gurpo's  Airo  Gueboiko's  Auboba — Villa 
LuDOYisi,  ADD  Palazzo  Eospioliosi. 

That  palace-building,  ruin-destroying  Pope,  Paul  III., 
besan  to  erect  the  enormous  palace  on  the  Quirinal  Kill ; 
and  the  prolongation  of  his  labours,  by  a  long  series  of  suc- 
cessive pontiffs,  has  made  it  one  of  tne  largest  and  ugliest 
buildings  extant.  a 

The  French,  during  whose  reign  it  was  of  course  the 
Palazzo  Impenale,  new-furnished  a  part  of  it ;  and  another 
part  of  it,  m  the  expectation  of  the  threatened  yisit  of  the 
Emperor  of  Austria,  was  fitted  up  for  that  great  personage's 
reception,  under  the  special  direction  of  Cardinal  Gk)nsaLvo 
himself. 

I  cannot  describe  silk  hangings  and  rich  carpets,  neither 
shall  I  stop  to  criticise  the  Secretary  of  State's  taste  as  an 
upholsterer.  Our  object  was  to  see  the  paintings;  but  I 
was  edified  to  observe  in  one  of  the  rooms,  the  consideration 
of  the  minister,  in  providing  for  his  Imperial  Majesty's  re- 
creation, several  suitable  diversions.  There  was  a  solitaire 
board,  and  a  little  table  to  play  at  '*  fox  and  geese." 

As  for  the  paintings,  luckily  for  you  there  are  not  many 

food  ones,  and  of  these  I  shall  mention  few.  Guercino's 
aul  and  David — or  the  Madness  of  Saul,  as  I  believe  it  is 
called — ^is  designed  with  great  force  and  truth ;  the  colour- 
ing beautiful,  and  the  expression  powerM.  It  is  one  of  bis 
finest  works. 

Caravag^o's  Christ  disputing  with  the  Doctors,  merits 
similar  praise. 


Digitized  by 


Google 


QriSnTAL  VALAOI.  145 

The  sketch  of  the  Transfiguration  is  very  fine.  But  the 
striking  inferiority  in  the  figure  of  our  Saviour,  leads  me 
to  doubt  that  it  is,  as  is  said,  the  original  sketch  by  Baphael 
himself.  I  should  rather  thmk  it  a  dimmished  copy  by  one 
of  his  pupils. 

Domenichino's  Ecce  Homo  is  painfully  fine.  One  of  the 
persecuting  Israelites  is  mocking  the  suffering  Christ,  whose 
brows,  crowned  with  thorns,  eyes  filled  with  tears,  cheeks 
stained  with  drops  of  blood,  and  hands  bound  with  cords, 
are  sorrowful  to  behold. 

St.  Peter  and  St.  Paul,  by  Fra'  Bartolomeo,  are  ccmceived 
in  true  grandeur  of  style.  St.  Jerome,  by  Spagnoletto,  a 
subject  repeated  so  often  that  the  sight  and  sound  become 
at  last  disgusting,  is  one  of  the  very  best  of  the  few  good 
ones  I  have  seen. 

There  are  some  paintings  by  Carlo  Maratti,  which  I  was 
told  to  admire ;  but  I  could  not.  The  same  thing  happened 
when  I  went  to  see  a  painting  in  the  church  of  S.  Carlo  al 
Corso,  which  is  reputed  to  be  his  masterpiece.  In  aU  his 
works  there  is,  to  me,  wondrous  insipidity.  I  never  yet 
saw  one  that  I  had  any  wish  to  see  a^ain. 

In  a  small  chapel  the  altar-piece  of  the  Annunciation,  by 
Guide,  is  full  of  beautiful  expression,  but  the  drawing  is 
incorrect ;  and  the  Virgin's  blue  mantle  breaks  all  harmony, 
a  charm  one  rarely  misses  in  his  paintings.  In  the  fresco 
there  are  some  beautiM  little  cherubs;  and  the  angels  in 
the  dome,  faded  though  they  be,  are  still  divine;  particu- 
larly one  angel,  who  is  playing  on  some  kind  of  heavenly 
instrument,  her  face  raised  to  heaven,  with  that  beautiful 
look  of  more  than  earthly  expression  that  G-uido  alone  could 
give,  and  a  beam  of  light  illumining  her  countenance. 

This  chapel  is,  or  rather  was,  entirely  painted  by  Guide, — 
for  it  is  about  time  to  speak  of  these  aeparted  frescos  in  the 
past  tense,  as  they  are  little  better  than  ghosts  now — and 
there  are  also  some  green  saints  on  gold  ^unds,  by  Albani, 
of  the  merit  of  widen  I  say  nothing ;  for  if  an  angel  were  to 
come  down  from  heaven  to  paint  green  figures  on  gold 
grounds,  I  am  certain  I  could  not  admire  the  performance. 

In  one  of  the  rooms,  there  is  the  plaster  of  the  beautiful 
ftieze  in  baa-reUef,  of  the  Triumph  of  Alexander  the  Great, 

TOL.  u.  I* 


Digitized  by 


Google 


146  BOHX. 

modelled  for  Napoleon^  bj  Thorwaldsen,  the  first  sculptor  in 
relievOy  of  modem  times/  It  will  never  now  be  executed  in 
marble  for  the  Quirinal  Falaoe ;  but  it  is  to  be  hoped  that 
the  patronage  of  some  other  protector  of  the  arts  will  enable 
the  artist  to  perpetuate  this  grand  work. 

The  gardens  oiP  the  Quirinal  Palace  are  adorned  with  par- 
terres, planted,  not  with  flowers,  but  with  the  Pope's  armB 
and  initials,  and  other  pretty  devices,  formed  of  httle  white 
shells  or  stones;  besides  which,  there  are  trees  cut  into 
divers  shapes;  melancholy  Casinos,  and  absurd  giuochi 
tPac^ua. 


Palazzo  Albajsti. 

In  one  of  the  deserted  rooms  of  the  Palazzo  Albani, 
near  the  Quattro  Fontane,  there  is  an  ancient  painting 
of  Jupiter  and  Ghmymede,  in  a  very  uncommon  style, — 
uniting  considerable  grandeur  of  conception,  great  force  and 
decision,  and  a  deep  tone  of  colouring,  which  produce  great 
efiect.    It  is  said  to  be  Grecian. 

Among  the  paintings,  most  of  which  are  worth  nothing, 
there  are  two  Bacchanalian  Feasts,  by  Qiulio  Eomano, 
sketched  with  great  spirit;  and  a  wild  coarse  landscape  of 
Salvator  Eosa's ;  a  Holy  Pamily  by  Albani ;  aiiother  repe- 
tition of  EaphaeFs  Holy  Pamily  at  Lord  StaJSbrd's  and  the 
Doria  Palace,  purporting  also  to  be  an  original,  but  pro- 
bably a  copy  by  one  of  his  pupils;  and  two  paintings  by 
Pietro  Perugino,  one  of  which,  a  very  fine  specimen  of  his 
works,  is  composed  of  four  parts,  the  Nativity  in  the  middle, 
the  Annimdation  on  each  side,  and  the  Crucifixion  at  the 
top. 

In  the  court  there  are  some  Pagan  altars  and  inscrip- 
tions; a  fine  old  mask,  and  an  unknown  statue  in  consular 
robes. 

In  the  Palazzo  Poniatowski,  in  the  Via  della  Croce,  there 
are  some  good  paintings,  chiefly  of  the  Memish  School.  But 
the  charm  of  tnis  pamce  was,  to  me,  the  finest  cabinet  of 
gems  I  had  ever  aeei^  which,  on  the  first  day  of  our  acquain- 


Digitized  by 


Google 


BO8FIGIIO0I  PALAOI.  147 

anee  with  him,  Frinee  PoniAtowski  had  the  politeness  spoil- 
taaeoiisly  to  offer  to  show  to  us,  though  thej  are  rerj  rarely 
exhibited  to  stmngers. 

In  the  Palazzo  EospoH,  on  the  Corso,  the  ground-floor  of 
which  has  been  turned  into  an  immense  cai6,  there  is  a  much 
admired  staircase. 

On  the  staircase  of  the  Palazzo  Altieri,  there  is  an  ancient 
marble  colossal  fifger^  of  such  extraordinary  size,  that  it  is 
really  worth  a  visit.  In  the  Palazzo  Verospi,  I  hear  there  is 
a  fresco  by  Albani,  which  I  haye  not  yet  seen;  and  the 
Palazzo  Stoppani,  the  Palazzo  Gaffiffelli,  and  the  stables  of 
the  Palazzo  Ghhigi,  are  of  the  architecture  of  Sophael,  and 
therefore  interesting.  Still  more  so  is  Baphaers  house, 
built  by  himself,  xou  pass  it  on  the  right-hand  side,  in 
going  to  St.  Peter's,  very  near  the  Piazza  Yaticano,  in  the 
widest  of  the  two  streets  that  lead  from  the  castle  St.  Angelo. 
It  may  easily  be  known,  by  being  the  only  house  in  that 
neighbourhood  with  a  stone  front,  or  with  anything  like 
architectural  ornament  about  it. 

Before  building  it,  he  lived  in  the  Via  de'  Coronari,  in  a 
house,  No.  124,  which  is  marked  by  a  washed-out  painting 
on  the  outside,  intended  for  the  portrait  of  Saphael,  and 
painted  by  Carlo  Maratti. 


PiXAZKO  BOSFI0LIOS1. 

On  the  roof  of  the  summer-house  of  the  Palazzo  Bospig- 
liosi,  is  painted  the  celebrated  fresco  of  Ghiido's  Aurora. 
Its  colouring  is  clear,  harmonious,  airy,  brilliant — ^un&ded 
by  time;  and  the  enthusiastic  admirer  of  Guide's  genius 
may  be  permitted  to  hope,  that  this,  his  noblest  work,  will 
be  immortal  as  his  fame. 

Morghen's  fine  en^vinff  may  give  you  some  idea  of  the 
design  and  composition  of  this  l]^utiM  painting;  but  it 
cannot  convey  the  soft  harmony  of  the  tints,  the  living 
touches,  the  brilliant  forms,  i^e  realized  dream  of  the  imagi- 
nation,  that  bursts,  with  all  its  magic,  upon  your  enraptured 
flight  in  the  matchtess  originaL  It  is  enuKKhed  poetry.  The 

L  2 


Digitized  by 


Google 


148  BOHX. 

Hours,  that  hand-in-hand  encircle  the  car  of  FhoBbus,  ad- 
Tance  with  rapid  pace.  The  paler,  milder  forms  of  those 
gentle  sisters  who  rule  over  declining  day,  and  the  glowing 
glance  of  those  who  bask  in  the  meridian  blaze,  resplendent 
in  the  hues  of  heaven, — are  of  no  mortal  grace  and  beauty ; 
but  they  are  eclipsed  by  Aurora  herself,  who  sails  on  the 
golden  clouds  before  them,  shedding  '  showers  of  shadowing 
roses '  on  the  rejoicing  earth ;  her  celestial  presence  diffiising 
gladness,  and  Hght,  and  beauty  around.  Above  the  heads  of 
the  heavenly  coursers,  hovers  the  morning  star,  in  the  form 
of  a  youthful  cherub,  bearing  his  flaming  torch.  Nothing  is 
more  admirable  in  this  beautiful  composition,  than  the  monon 
given  to  the  whole.  The  smooth  and  rapid  step  of  the  cir- 
cling Hours  as  they  tread  on  the  fleecy  clouds ;  the  fiery- 
steeds  ;  the  whirling  wheels  of  the  car ;  the  torch  of  Lucifer, 
blown  back  by  the  velocity  of  his  advance ;  and  the  form  of 
Aurora,  borne  through  the  ambient  air,  till  you  almost  fear 
she  should  float  from  your  sight;  aU  realize  the  illusion. 
You  seem  admitted  into  the  world  of  fancy,  and  revel  in  its 
brightest  creations. 

In  the  midst  of  such  youth  and  loveliness,  the  dusky  figure 
of  Phoebus  appears  to  great  disadvantage.  It  is  not  happily 
conceived,  xet  his  air  is  noble  and  godlike,  and  his  tree 
commandiQg  action,  and  conscious  ease,  as  he  carelessly 
guides,  with  one  hand,  the  fiery  steeds  that  are  harnessed 
to  his  flaming  car,  may,  perhaps,  compensate  in  some  degree, 
for  his  want  of  beauty ;  for  he  certainly  is  not  handsome ; 
and  I  looked  in  vain  for  the  youthful  majesty  of  the  god  of 
day,  and  thought  on  the  Apollo  Belvedere.  Had  &uido 
thought  of  it  too,  he  never  could  have  made  this  head,  which 
is,  I  think,  the  great  and  only  defect  of  this  exquisite  paint- 
ing ;  and  what  makes  it  of  more  importance,  is,  that  Apollo, 
not  Aurora,  is  the  principal  figure — ^the  first  that  catches  the 
eye,  and  which,  in  spite  of  our  dissatisfaction,  we  are  to  the 
last  obliged  to  contemplate.  The  defects  of  his  Apollo  are 
a  new  proof  of  what  I  have  verv  frequently  observed,  that 
Ouido  succeeded  far  better  in  feminme  than  in  masculine 
beauty.  His  female  forms,  in  their  loveliness,  their  delicacy, 
their  grace  and  sweetness,  are  flsiultless ;  and  the  beauty  and 
innocence  of  his  infimts  have  seldom  been  equalled ;  but  he 


Digitized  by 


Google 


TILU  ZVDOJJML  140 

nrel J  gave  to  manly  beauty  and  Tigonr,  a  charaetor  that 
was  noble.* 

From  the  Aurora  of  Guido,  we  nrnat  turn  to  the  rival 
Aurora  of  Guercino,  in  the  Yilk  Ludoyifli.  In  spite  of 
Guido's  bad  head  of  Apollo,  and  in  spite  of  Guercino's  magio 
chiar'  oscuro,  I  confess  myself  disposed  to  giye  the  preference 
to  Guido.  In  the  first  place,  there  is  not  the  same  unity  of 
composition  in  Guercino's.  It  is  yeiy  fine  in  all  its  parts ; 
but  still  it  if  in  parts.  It  is  not  so  fine  a  tehole,  nor  is  it  so 
nerfect  a  composition,  nor  has  it  the  same  charm  aa  Ghiido's. 
Neither  is  tbere  the  same  ideal  beauty  in  tbe  Aurora.  Guer- 
dno's  is  a  mortal — Guide's  a  truly  ethereal  being.  Guercino's 
Aurora  is  in  her  car,  drawn  by  two  heayenly  steeds,  and  the 
shades  of  night  seem  to  dissipate  at  her  approach.  Old  Ti- 
tbonus,  whom  she  has  left  behmd  her,  seems  lialf  awake ;  and 
the  morning  star,  under  tbe  figure  of  a  wineed  genius  bearing 
his  kindled  torch,  follows  her  course.  £l  a  separate  com- 
partment, Nigbt,  in  the  form  of  a  woman,  is  Bitting  musing,  or 
slumbering  oyer  a  book.  She  has  much  of  the  character  of  a 
sibyl.  Her  dark  cave  is  broken  open,  and  the  blue  sky  and 
the  coming  light  break  beautifull]^^  m  upon  ber  and  her  com- 
panions, the  sullen  owl  and  flapping  bat,  which  shrink  from 
its  unwelcome  ray.  The  Hours  are  represented  imder  the 
figure  of  children,  fluttering  about  before  the  goddess,  and  ez- 
tiuguiahing  the  stars  of  night — a  beautiful  idea;  but  one, 
perhaps,  better  adapted  to  poelay  than  painting.  The  Hours 
of  Guercino  are,  howeyer,  mfinitely  less  poetic  and  less  beau- 
tiful than  the  bright  female  forms  which  encircle  the  car  of 
day,  in  Guide's  Aurora.  Yet  it  is  a  masterpiece  of  painting; 
and  but  for  the  Aurora  of  Guido,  we  could  haye  conceiyed  no- 
thing beyond  the  Aurora  of  Guercino. 

In  another  room,  in  the  same  Casino,  I  was  struck  witb 

*  Domenichino,  however,  was,  in  my  opinion,  the  painter  that  mort 
trnly  and  beantifully  represented  the  graces  of  childhood.  There  is  a 
chann  of  nature,  of  playful,  happy,  unconscious  innocence  ahout  them, 
that  gives  dreadful  effect  to  the  horrors  of  his  Martyrdoms.  In  his  St. 
Agnes,  and  the  Mysteries  of  the  Bosaries,  at  Bologna,  (which,  after  the 
Communion  of  St  Jerome,  are  his  great  masterpieces  of  oil  painting,) 
and  in  his  frescos  of  S.  Andrea  and  S.  Sebastiano,  at  Rome,  I  was  parti- 
cularly struck  with  this.  The  Sleeping  Babes  of  Guido  are  quite  a 
different  description  of  beauty,  but  exquisite  in  their  kind. 


Digitized  by 


Google 


150  BOXB. 

admiratkni  bja  pamtm|  I  had  nerer  heard  of,  "Ftaoe  blowing 
her  Trumpet,  by  Guercino. 

The  celebrated  pieces  of  aacient  statuary,  at  the  Yilla  Lu* 
doYisi,  which  are  inyaluable  because  the^aie  unique — (no 
other  copies  of  them  existing) — are  all  distinguished  by  names 
that  have  as  usual  been  proved  with  great  learning  and  at 
great  length,  not  to  belong  to  them ;  and  the  names  that  do 
belong  to  them  hare  not  yet  been  discovered.  You  must, 
therelore,  excuse  my  calling  them  by  their  usurped  titles. 
The  first  is  Mars  in  repose,  a  beautiful  figure.  He  is  sitting 
.  with  his  foot  resting  on  his  helmet,  his  hand  grasping  a  swor^ 
and  a  shield  by  his  side.  A  little  Love  is  seat^  at  his  feet. 
The  figure  is  scarcely  robust,  fiery,  or  fierce  enough  for  the 
boisterous  ^od  of  war,  nor  does  the  expression  accord  with  it. 
It  is  more  like  a  youthful  and  a  humaa  warrrior.  It  has  been 
called  Quirinus ;  and  it  seems  to  accord  better  with  the  son 
of  Mars,  the  godlike  foimder  of  Bome,  snatched  from  earth 
without  tasting  of  death,  than  with  Mars  himself.  But  be  it 
what  it  may,  it  is  a  statue  of  first-rate  excellence.  It  has 
been  restored  by  Bernini. 

The  ^up  called  Pfetus  and  Arria,  is  excuisitely  beautiful. 
She  is  sinking  in  death ;  the  last  breath  of  me  seems  to  tremble 
on  her  lips,  and  a  faint  smile  still  illumines  them.  Her  form, 
the  perfection  of  female  beauty  and  erace,  is  in  the  most  in- 
teresting attitude  it  could  be  taken;  half-cliuCTig  in  death  to 
him  who  has  just  plunced  the  dagger  into  his  own  breast: 
the  blood  springs  fiom  tne  wound,  and  the  powerful  contrast 
between  the  athletic  strength  of  his  form^ — ^that  strength 
which  we  know  the  death  that  he  has  inflicted  must  so  speemly 
annihilate, — and  the  expiring  figure  of  the  lovely  being  he 
supports,  is  very  striking  and  impressive.  Taking  the  figures 
separately,  they  are  perhaps  fiaultless ;  but,  considered  as  a 
group,  it  has  one  fault.  In  the  point  of  view  for  the  female, 
vou  lose  the  male  figure  altogether,  and  the  reverse.  It  is, 
however,  a  noble  piece  of  sculpture,  whatever  it  be.  It  cer- 
tainly is  not  Arria  and  Psetus,  because  the  female  figure  has 
a  frinsed  robe,  a  certain  proof  that  she  was  of  a  foreign  nation; 
and  because  the  man  has  mustachios,  which,  at  t£ftt  period, 
were  not  worn  by  the  Bomans;  besides,  ^e  critics  have 
lately  discovered  that  they  are  2Jkeb(m  mititaekiot  I    But  ii^ 


Digitized  by 


Google 


TILLA  L17D0TISI.  ISl 

dependent  of  mustachios,  tiie  man  is  too  inforiated  for  PntnSy 
who,  so  £ur  from  driving  the  sword  into  himself  in  this  yenge- 
ful  maimer,  was  too  cowardly  to  kill  himself  at  all,  and  was 
actuallj  executed.  It  is  evident,  too,  from  the  ei^ression  of 
the  work,  that  he  has  stabbed  idie  woman, — ^and  mdeed,  the 
wound  is  in  her  right  shoulder ;  so  that  if  she  had  committed 
suicide,  it  must  have  been  in  a  most  awkward  manner,  with 
her  left  hand. 

The  £Eite  of  Fsstus  and  Arria  was  no  subject  for  statuary; 
hut  if  it  had  been,  the  sculptor  would  have  chosen  the 
moment,  when,  loolung  up  to  him  with  expiring  love,  she 
presented  the  dagger,  and  murmured,  "  It  is  not  painful,  my 
Pffitus!" 

She  was  the  heroine  of  that  beautiful  story ;  but  the  man 
is  the  hero  of  this  group, — ^the  female  figure  is  secondary — 
therefore,  for  all  those  multifarious  reasons,  it  is  not  Ajtxia 
and  FaBtus. 

The  Thebon  mustachios  have  given  rise  to  the  supposition 
that  this  group  represents  BiBmon  and  Antigone,  a  favourite 
subject  of  Greek  tn^edy,  and  often  seen  upon  gems ;  but 
HsBmon  killed  himselfupon  her  tomb,  therefore  he  could  not 
be  represented  thus,  as  dying  with  her. 

Wmkelman  iooAgines  that  it  represents  the  obscure  story 
of  Canace,  and  that  the  man  is  the  soldier  sent  to  her  by  her 
father,  .^lus,  on  the  discovery  of  her  gmlt,  with  the  poniard, 
and  the  command  to  kill  herself.  But  this  is  surely  a  still 
more  unfortunate  idea — ^for  what  right  have  we  to  suppose 
that  the  soldier  was  foolish  enough  to  kiU  himself  ?* 

The  group  called  Fapirius  and  his  Mother  has  been,  and 
will  be,  the  subject  of  continual  dispute  amongst  the  connois- 
seurs. Some  of  them  see,  in  the  boy*8  face,  the  roffuish 
mirthful  expression  of  his  witty  imposition.  Winkeunan, 
who  at  first  maintained  it  to  be  Ph»dra  and  Hippolytus,  read 
in  this  same  mirthful  countenance,  the  excess  oi  horror  with 
which  he  heard  the  avowal  of  her  incestuous  passion.    After- 

*  Winkehnan's  giatuitoiis  supposition  of  this  unreasonable  snioide  is 
tmuang  enoiigfa. — "  Comme  aucun  teriyain  ne  fiut  mention  au  garde, 
nous  pouvons  nautjiffurer,  par  rinspecHon  de  Vouvrage,  que  ce  Mddat, 
n'syant  pas  6t6  ins^t  de  Tobjet  de  sa  mission,  remit  d'un  air  triste 
1ft  &tale  6p6e  H  Canac6,  ei  qu*%l  itn  eat  perei  U  seitif  apris  avoir  vu  gue 
luPrinoem^itmiiMiUr    AlUMljstMjl 


Digitized  by 


Google 


152  BOMB. 

\rard8,  he  finds  it  out  to  be  Electra  and  Orestes;  and  &ea 
the  expression  of  this  same  *mirthftil,'  and  *horror-stricken 
face,'  is  changed  to  extreme  affliction ;  and  according  to  him, 
''On  Yoit  les  jeux  d'Oreste  inond^s  de  larmes,  et  ses  pau- 

Si^res  gonfl^s,  a  force  d'ayoir  pleiir6.  II  en  est  de  mdme 
'Electra,"  &c.  It  may  be  so,  but  I  saw  none  of  these  ex- 
pressions in  the  poor  boy's  fiace ;  and  certainly,  they  cannot 
all  be  there. 

The  female  is  a  ^at  deal  the  taller  and  older  of  the  two, 
and  the  difference  m  their  age  seems  irreconcileable  with  that 
of  brother  and  sister,  though  Electra  was  older  than  Orestes. 
But  she  has  the  air  of  a  matron — ^he  of  a  boy ;  and  her  look 
and  caressing  manner  would  seem  to  indicate  a  mother's 
feeling.  But  then,  say  the  critics,  "  her  hair  is  cut,  which 
was  esteemed  infamous  among  the  Bomans  ;  and,  therefore, 
she  cannot  be  the  mother  of  Papirius."  Besides,  had  the  boy 
been  Papirius  FrcstextatuSy  he  would  haye  been  represented 
with  the  pratexta ;  for,  it  was  on  the  occasion  of  being  in- 
vested with  that  juvenile  robe,  that  he  was  taken  by  his  fiithep 
to  the  senate ;  and,  on  his  return,  he  eluded  the  interroga- 
tories of  his  mother  as  to  what  had  passed  there,  with  the  tde, 
that  they  had  been  deliberating  whether  the  men  should  have 
two  wives,  or  the  women  two  husbands — ^which  sent  her,  with 
all  her  female  Mends  and  acquaintance,  in  a  body,  next  day, 
to  the  senate,  to  implore  that  the  law  should  be  for  the 
women  to  have  two  husbands — ^to  the  iuexpressible  amuse- 
ment of  the  conscript  fathers. 

There  is  another  reason  why  this  group  cannot  represent 
Papirius  and  his  mother,  nor  the  other,  Psetus  and  Arria, 
because  the  ancient  sculptors  never  chose  a  subject  from 
Boman  history.*  But  it  is  much  easier  to  prove  what  it  is 
not,  than  what  it  is:  we  may  be  content  to  confess  that  we 
know  nothing  about  it;  and  to  call  it,  for  want  of  a  better 
name,  Electra  recognizing  Orestes. 

It  is,  however,  certain  that  it  is  a  group  of  singular  beauty, 
and  the  work  of  Menelaus,  a  Gfxecian  sculptor,  whose  name 
is  inscribed  upon  it. 

We  saw  the  statues  and  paintings  of  the  ViQa  Ludovisi 
only  once,  and  in  haste ;  and  we  were  indebted  to  the  kind- 
*  Vide  Winkelman,  Hist  de  I'Art,  liv.  vi.,  chap.  6,  §  28. 


Digitized  by 


Google 


TIIXA  XTTDOYIBI.  158 

• 

nefls  of  Canora,  ytho  conducted  ns  there,  for  seeing  them  at 
all.  But  this  privilege  is  now  denied  even  to  him ;  and  the 
most  respectful  re<]|ue8ts  of  the  most  distinguished  foTeigners, 
for  permission  to  view  them,  are  treated  by  Prince  Piombino 
with  contemptuous  neglect,  or  answered  with  haughty  refusal. 
It  is  not  that  strangers  can  intrude  upon  him,  for  he  resides 
constantly  at  Bome.  Yet  such  is  his  dread  lest  they  should 
obtain  admittance  by  bribery  to  see  them,  that  he  has  been 
known,  on  a  wet  day,  to  walk  under  an  umbrella,  through 
miry  lanes,  and  watch  within  sight  of  the  gate — a  spy  upon 
his  own  servaats.  What  would  this  Ir^rrant  have  been  upon 
a  throne !  The  only  excuse  that  can  be  alleged  for  hitn  is, 
that  he  is  supposed  to  be  mad ;  but  it  is  tmiortunate  when 
Buch  a  madman,  instead  of  being  locked  up  himself,  has  it  in 
his  power  to  lock  up  such  works  of  art. 

The  Villa  Ladovisi  stands  in  one  of  the  most  beautiful 
situations  in  the  neighbourhood  of  Bome,  for,  though  enclosed 
within  the  walls  of  the  city,  it  is  completely  in  the  country. 
The  view  from  the  top  of  the  Belvedere  Casino  is  one  of  the 
most  varied  beauty.  The  blue  mountains  rising  behind  the 
dark  shade  of  the  pines  and  cypress,  which  form  the  fore- 
ground  ^but  I  forget  that  I  must  not  describe.    I  see  you 

yawn  already. 

These  pines  and  cypress  are  ever  green  and  ever  beau- 
tiful ; — ^but  in  all  directions  of  right  lines  and  angles,  ex- 
tend tall  hedges  of  ilex  and  laurel,  clipped  into  green  walls, 
impenetrably  thick,  and  inconceivably  dull.  With  two  miles 
of  pleasure-ground,  close  to  a  capital  city,  on  such  a  soil, 
and  beneath  such  a  sky,  what  would  an  English  viUa  and 
its  gardens  have  been  ?  But  gardening,  which  iq  our  coun- 
try is  the  art  of  creating  lanctcape,  is,  in  Italy,  the  art  of 
marring  it. 

In  my  enthusiasm  for  the  Aurora  of  Guido,  I  forgot  to 
mention  the  paintings  of  the  Bospigliosi  Palace. 

Tou  are  taken,  reluctantly,  from  the  contemplation  of 
the  Aurora,  iato  an  adjoining  room  in  the  same  Casino, 
to  see  Domenichino's  Adam  and  Eve  in  Paradise — a  very 
poor  production  indeed.  The  whole  of  an  immense  piece 
of  canvas  is  crowded  with  a  heterogeneous  assemblage  of 
qH  the  birds  of  the  air  and  beasts  of  the  field,  and  reptiles 


Digitized  by 


Google 


154  BOHX. 

thafc  ever  crawled  upon  the  earth;  and  in  the  middle  of 
them  stand  our  first  parents,  in  a  most  unenyiable  situa- 
tion. 1% 

Some  bad  bronze  heads,  and  other  wretched  scraps  of 
sculpture,  and  a  Diana  and  Minerva,  more  frightful  than 
any  thing  you  can  conceive,  are  stuck  round  the  room. 
Thej  were  found  in  the  baths  of  Constantine,  upon  a  part 
of  which  this  palace  was  built.  Here  is  a  pretty  httle 
bronze  horse,  also  found  in  them — ^the  work,  probably,  of 
a  better  age.  The  beautiful  bas-reliefs  which  adorn  the 
exterior  of  the  Casino,  and  are  unmercifully  exposed  to 
all  the  injuries  of  the  weather,  are  of  the  age  oi  Trajan ; 
and  the  larger  ones  are  said  to  have  been  brought  nrom 
his  Eonim.  They  are  placed  at  such  a  hight  from  l^e 
ground,  that  the  beauty  of  the  sculpture  is  lost. 

Two  magnificent  colunms  of  rosso-antico,  the  only  ones 
of  this  size  in  the  world,  are  judicioushf  wedged  into  the 
wall  of  the  Casino,  and  so  totally  hidden  in  it,  that  they 
would  pass  unobserved  were  they  not  pointed  out.  If  ther 
were  made  of  painted  stucco,  they  woiud  look  quite  as  wel!!^ 
in  such  a  situation,  as  this  precious  marble — for  the  beauty 
of  the  material  is  totally  lost. 

The  palace  itself  contains  a  scanty  collection  of  paint- 
ings-^generally  {passed  over  in  haste, — ^for  what  stranger 
can  view  them  with  patience,  before  he  sees  the  Aurora  8 
and  after  it,  how  can  he  admire  them  ?  Among  them,  how« 
ever,  are  some  paintings  of  considerable  merit. 

Guide's  Andromeda  is  one  of  these.  It  is  seldom  Guido 
erred  from  want  of  expression,  but  she  is  surely  too  cahn» 
and  too  placid  for  such  a  situation.  Neither  Perseus  wing* 
ing  his  flight  to  her  rescue,  nor  the  sea-monster  raising  its 
jaws  to  devour  her,  seems  to  have  the  power  to  agitate  her 
with  hope  or  fear.  But  she  is  beauty's  self;  and  it  is  a 
painting  that  irresistibly  forces  admiration, 

Domenichinos  Triumph  of  David,  is  not,  on  the  whole, 
one  of  his  finest  compositions.  The  figures  are  larger  thfui 
nature.  One  of  the  daughters  of  Israel,  who  welcomes  him 
with  the  harp  and  the  timbrel,  has  all  the  living  brightness^ 
and  beautiful  expression,  of  his  pencil. 

Sa2QS(ni  pulling  down  the  temple  on  the  Fhili$tineS|  bj 


Digitized  by 


Google 


Aironm  nuEBOOs.  155 

Ludoyico  Garacci,  is  eztremelj  admired ;  but  tbe  subject  is, 
I  think,  a  peculiarly  unfortunate  one  for  painting.  The 
gigantic  columns,  and  tumbling  roofs,  yielding  to  tne  force 
of  a  single  man  of  human  size,  has  somethio^  in  it  of  re- 
Toltrufi;  impossibility  and  disproportion. 

Eighteen  ancient  firescos,  found  in  the  baths  of  Gonstan* 
tine,  once  adorned  this  palace.  They  belonged  to  the 
Prince  Pallavicini,  the  owner  of  the  second  story  of  this 
palace.  But  the  servants  here  say,  that  the  Frmee  Bos- 
pigliosi  carried  them  off  with  him  to  Florence,  where  he 
now  resides ;  and  his  servants  there  maintained  they  were 
at  Borne.  They  are  not  now  to  be  seen  or  beard  oi  any- 
where. 


Digitized  by 


Google 


160    ^  BOMS. 


LETTEE  LXIX. 

BoHjjT  Villas  —  Bafhael's  Casino,  aitd  Fbesgos — 
BoBGHESE  Qaedens — ^Italiabt  aitd  Enolish  Gakden- 
TSQ — ^Villas  ALDOBHANDiifi,  Altiebi,  Gieaud,  Pam- 

EILI-DOBIA,    AND    LaNTI — FbENCH    AoADEMT — UTILITY 

OF  AN  English  one — Visit  to  Monte  Mabio — ^Villa. 
Madama — Pastob  Fldo — Baphael*s  Ebesgos. 

Singe  I  baye  been  in  Eome,  many  are  the  visits  I  have 
paid  to  the  Casino  of  Eaphael,  which  was  the  chosen  scene 
of  his  retirement,  and  adorned  by  his  genius,  It  is  about 
half  a  mile  from  the  Porta  del  Popolo.  The  first  wooden 
gate  in  the  lane,  on  the  right  of  the  entrance  into  the 
grounds  of  the  Villa  Borghese,  leads  you  into  a  vineyard, 
which  you  cross  to  the  Casino  di  Eaffaello ;  for  it  still  bears 
his  name.  It  is  unftimished,  except  with  casks  of  wine, 
and  uniohabited,  except  by  a  contctdina,  who  shows  it  to 
strangers. 

"We  passed  through  two  rooms,  painted  by  his  scholars ; 
the  third,  which  was  his  bedroom,  is  entirely  adorned  with 
the  work  of  his  own  hands.  It  is  a  smalL  pleasant  apart- 
ment, looking  out  on  a  little  green  lawn,  fenced  in  with 
trees  irregularly  planted.  The  walls  are  covered  with  ara- 
besques, in  various  whimsical  and  beautiful  designs, — such 
as  ike  sports  of  children;  Loves  bakncing  themselves  on 
poles,  or  mounted  on  horseback,  full  of  glee  and  mirth; 
Eauns  and  Satyrs ;  Mercury  and  Minerva ;  flowers  and 
curling  tendrils,  and  every  beautiful  comnosition  that  could 
suggest  itself  to  a  mind  of  taste,  or  a  classic  imagination, 
in  its  most  sportive  mood.  It  is  impossible  to  describe  to 
you  the  spirit  of  these  designs.  The  cornice  is  supported 
by  painted  Caryatides.  The  coved  roof  is  adorned  with 
four  medallions,  containing  portraits  of  his  mistress,  the 


Digitized  by 


Google 


TILLAS  or  MOBSBK  BOHI.  157 

Fomarma — ^it  seemed  as  if  lie  took  pleasure  in  multiply- 
ing that  beloved  object,  so  that  wheiever  his  ejes  tumedy 
her  image  might  meet  them.  There  are  three  other  paint- 
ings, one  representing  a  Terminus  with  a  target  before  it, 
and  a  troop  of  men  shooting  at  it  with  bows  and  arrows, 
which  they  have  stolen  from  unsuspecting  Cupid,  who  is 
lying  asleep  on  the  ground,  his  quiver  empty  beside  him. 
One  or  two  roguish-looking  Loves  are  creeping  about  on  the 
ground,  one  of  them  beanng  a  lighted  torch.  The  marks- 
men are  all  bending  forward,  and  some  are  quite  horizontal, 
with  their  feet  in  air. 

The  second  picture  represents  a  figure,  apparently  a  God, 
seated  at  the  foot  ot  a  couch,  with  an  altar  oefore  him,  in  a 
temple  or  rotunda ;  and  from  gardens  which  appear  in  per- 
spective through  its  open  intercolumniations,  are  seen  ad- 
vancing a  troop  of  gay  young  nymphs,  with  something  of 
the  air  of  Bacchantes,  bearing  on  their  heads  vases  lull 
of  fresh-gathered  roses.  I  could  not  make  out  the  image  to 
he  a  female,  or  else  I  should  have  supposed  it  to  be  the  feast 
of  Mora ;  therefore,  for  want  of  a  better  explanation,  I  con- 
cluded it  meant  for  the  feast  of  the  God  of  the  Gardens. 

The  last,  and  best  of  these  paintings,  represents  the  nup- 
tials of  Alexander  the  Great  and  Eoxana.  I  never  saw  a 
fig^ure  of  more  ex<juisite  loveliness, — more  touching  modesty 
and  grace.  She  is  seated  at  the  foot  of  a  couch ;  a  little 
Love  beside  her  is  drawing  off  a  veil  which  yet  half  conceals 
her  beauty.  Hymen,  with  his  safiron  robes  and  torch,  leads 
in  Alexander,  (usarmed,  but  wearing  his  helmet.  A  crowd 
of  attendant  Loves  are  employed  in  their  service;  some 
are  carrying  off  his  sword,  &c. ;  and  one,  a  comical  little 
Love,  has  put  on  his  heavy  coat-of-mail,  which  is  ridiculous- 
ly large  for  it,  and  having  tumbled  down,  is  unable  to  get 
up  again. 

I  have  perhaps  described  with  too  much  minuteness  the 
Casino  of  Eaphael ;  but  in  general  he  painted  for  others, — 
here  he  painted  for  himself, — ^and  it  is  interesting  to  see 
those  sports  of  his  mind,  and  to  trace  the  fond  delight  with 
which  he  amused  his  leisure  hours  in  decorating  his  home, 
the  scene  of  his  pleasures. 

Julius  Cffisar  bequeathed  his  gardens,  at  his  death,  to  the 


Digitized  by 


Google 


168  BOia. 

Bomaat  people ;  the  Bortthese  prinoefl  do  more,— tbey  giTO 
tbem  in  their  lives;  and  the  only  difference  I  can  see  ia 
their  title  to  them,  and  that  of  every  d^iizen  of  Bome^ 
is,  that  the  former  have  the  en>enae  of  keeping  them  up, 
and  the  latter  the  enjovment  oi  them.  The  citizen  enters 
when  he  pleases, — on  KK>t,  on  horsehack,  or  in  a  carriage ; 
and  he  is,  to  all  intents  and  purposes,  their  uncontrolled 
master. 

A  park  would  be  a  more  appropriate  term  in  English, 
than  gardens,  for  grounds  that  occupy  nearly  three  miles 
in  circuit.  They  are  situated  on  the  broad  summit  of 
the  FinciBn  Hill,  immediately  without  the  walls  of  Borne, 
which  endose  a  part  only  of  its  wide  and  broken  extent. 
The  Borghese  Gardens  are  professedly  laid  out  in  the  Eng- 
lish s^le ;  and  though  they  certainly  are  not  English,  they 
are — ^from  being  devoid  of  trees  cupped  into  shapes,  and 
lone  straight  avenues  enclosed  between  evergreen  walk-* 
by  far  the  most  beautiful  pleasure-grounds  ia  Bome.  I  was 
too  much  rejoiced  to  see  once  more  the  unmutilated,  un- 
tortured  shades  of  nature,  though  ungrouped  and  unem* 
bellished  by  the  hand  of  taste,  to  quarrel  with  the  melan* 
choly  monotony  of  the  scene, — ^with  the  formality  of  the 
sta^poant  pond,  in  which  is  erected  the  Temple  of  JSscu- 
lapius, — the  woe-begone  Nereids,  that  are  obliged  to  "sit 
on  rocks,  and  muse  o'er  flood  and  fell," — ^the  modem  ruins 
that  are  tumbling  about  like  bad  actors,  vainly  trying  to  be 
tragical,— or  the  mock  aqueducts  that  have  been  built  up 
only  that  they  might  be  pulled  down. 

There  is  one  of  the  fine  arts  which  is  truly  of  BritisK 
growth,  and  in  which,  by  the  unanimous  voice  of  Europe,  we 
excel  all  other  nations — ^the  art  of  gardening.  We  have 
attained  our  perfection  in  it  by  the  only  means  m  which  per- 
fection in  any  of  the  fine  arts  is  attainable, — following  simpli- 
city, and  obeying  nature.  This  is  the  golden  rule  of  taste. 
These  are  the  omy  guides  to  beauty.  But  those  who  have 
sought  it  in  distorting  the  lovely  features  of  nature,  and 
substituting  the  paltry  conceits  of  affectation  for  beautiful 
simplicity,  nave  wandered  far  from  their  aim.  Such  have 
been  the  means  of  o\ir  success ;  its  remoter  causes  I  cannot 
but  attribute  to  that  fondness  for  domestic  enjoyment  which 


Digitized  by 


Google 


HODEKir  TILLA8  OF  SOME.  109 

leads  us  to  embellish  evetytWng  that  sunxmnds  our  home,  or 
that  can  add  to  its  pleasives.  Our  oountry-houses,  as  well 
as  gardens,  are  confessedlj  uuriyalled ;  they  are  the  admira- 
tion of  all  enhghtened  foreigners,  and  their  superioiily  arises 
from  being  contrived,  not  liJce  those  of  other  nations,  for  the 
wonder  of  visitors,  but  for  the  happiness  of  their  inmates, — 
not  for  show,  but  for  enjoyment.  Xong,  oh,  long  may  it  be 
the  boast  of  England,  that  while  other  Lands  can  show  more 
splendid  palaces,  hers  are  filled  with  happier  homes ! 

It  is  indeed  striking  to  a  native  of  our  winlay  island,  on 
coming  to  a  climate  inmere  unbidden  beauty  springs  around, 
and  scarcely  asks  the  hand  of  cultivation,  to  see,  instead  of 
smiling  shnibberies,  varying  walks,  scented  flowers,  budding 
blossoms,  and  all  the  beautSul  combinations  of  English  taste, 
— ^nothing  but  clipt  evergreens,  formal  hedgerows,  doleful 
fish-ponds,  spirting  fountains,  and  frightful  statues.  With 
the  sun  and  the  soil  of  Italy,  what  a  paradise  could  be  created 
by  English  gardening  I 

It  does  not  appear  to  me  that  the  ancient  £omans  had  a 
much  better  taste  in  gardening  than  the  modem  Italians. 
Pliny,  in  his  laboured  description  of  his  Tusculan  villa,  tells 
us  its  gardens  were  adorned  with  "figures  of  various  animals, 
cut  in  box;  evergreens  shaped  into  a  thousand  difierent 
forms;  sometimes  into  letters  expressing  different  names; 
walls  and  hedges  of  clipped  box ;  and  trees  cut  into  a  variety 
of  shapes ;"  so  what  we  abuse  as  Dutch,  is  really  classical. 
IS'othing,  however,  can  make  it  otherwise  than  hideous ;  and, 
be  it  the  praise  of  our  own  nation  to  have  introduced  true 
taste,  and  invented  the  art  of  landscape-gardening. 

The  drive  through  the  grounds  of  the  Villa  Sorghese  is 
Tery  pleasant ;  the  road  winds  alon£  through  deep  evergreen 
groves  of  the  ilex,  the  laurel,  and  the  cypress,  whose  taU 
spiral  form  rises  far  above  every  other  tree,  and  contrasts 
beautifrdl^  with  the  pale  and  drooping  weeping-willows  that 
bathe  their  flexile  branches  in  the  dear  waters.  But  the 
columnar  cypress  itself  scarcely  overtops  the  majestic  pine,* 
which  bears  on  high  its  broad  horizontal  head,  and  throws 
around  its  deep  and  spreading  shade.  This  beautiful  tree, 
which 'grows  to  such  perfection  in  the  climates  of  the  souths 
*  Th«  Fmw  pinea  of  Liiui»ii8. 


Digitized  by 


Google 


160  BOifS. 

gives  to  the  scenery  about  Borne  its  peculiar  charm.  It  has 
a  character  that  no  other  possesses ;  and  nothing  can  be  more 
in  harmony  with  the  melancholy  grandeur  of  the  ruingf  it 
loves  to  accompany,  than  its  dark  and  motionless  beauty,  and 
its  luxuriant  depth  of  shade.  It  is  the  same  which  enters  so 
beautifully  into  the  composition  of  Claude  Lorraiue's  land- 
scapes. Such  scenery  as  the  Borghese  Q-ardens  should  never 
be  visited  except  when  the  sun  sbines  forth  unclouded ;  then 
the  contrast  between  the  brightness  of  its  rays,  the  deep  blue 
of  the  heavens,  and  the  thick  shade  of  the  groves,  is  seen  in 
all  its  beauty. 

The  Casino,  at  the  extremity  of  the  drive,  is  well  worth 
seeiag ;  not  for  anything  it  contains,  for  its  famous  treasures 
of  art  are  all  gone,  but  lor  its  own  magnificence.  The  splen- 
dour of  its  marbles,  and  the  beauty  of  its  halls,  are  unim- 
pabed.  Instead  of  its  masterpieces  of  G^recian  sculpture,  we 
,  see  now  a  Curtius  on  horseback,  throwing  himself  into  the 
gulf;  and  two  groups  of  Bernini,  a  scowling  David  with  his 
sling,  and  Apollo  ana  Daphne,  who  is  in  the  act  of  undergo- 
ing the  process  of  her  transformation  into  a  laurel.  Amongst 
some  pamtings  of  Luca  Giordano  and  Orizonte,  I  remarked 
two  beautiful  winter  landscapes  by  a  painter  not  known  to 
flame,  and  whose  name  I  have  imluckily  forgotten. 

There  are  a  great  many  villas  in  the  immediate  neighbour- 
hood of  Eome,  and  even  within  its  walls ;  but  I  cannot  con- 
ceive that  a  particular  description  of  them  all  could  be 
amusing  to  you.  Every  villa  has  one  Casino,  and  often 
more,  in  its  grounds.  Wt,  perhaps,  you  may  not  have  a 
very  clear  idea  of  what  a  Casmo  is.  It  is  a  building,  gene- 
rally two  stories  high,  and  containing  a  suite  of  entertaming 
rooms,  for  company  and  recreation,  but  no  sleeping-rooms ; 
and  they  are  usually  fitted  up  with  aU  the  luxuiy  of  p£tinting 
and  sculpture. 

The  V  ilia  Aldobrandini  is  now  in  the  possession  of  GFeneral 
MioUis.  The  gardens  are  gay  and  pleasant,  and  kept  in  ex- 
cellent order.  A  considerable  number  of  ancient  statues  and 
inscriptions  are  arranged  in  one  part  of  them.  There  seemed 
to  be  a  great  multiplication  of  Bacchuses,  Dianas,  Mercuries, 
Venuses,  and  the  common  herd  of  statues ;  but  nothing 
remarkable,  either  for  rarity  or  beauty.    However,  I  must 


Digiti 


ized  by*G00gle 


▲LSOBBAITDIKI  YILLA.  161 

confess  that  I  only  gare  them  a  hasty  gkuce,  for  my  whole 
soul  was  in  the  flower-beds.  It  was  sillj  enough,  to  be  sure ; 
but  there  was  such  a  delightful  profusion  of  roses  and  lilies, 
and  jonquils  and  hyacdnths,  that  when  Flora  herself  with  all 
her  fresn-bom  beauties,  appeared  before  me,  I  could  not 
think  of  musty  old  representations  of  the  rest  of  the  gods 
and  goddesses ;  and  I  was  still  regaling  my  senses  with  their 
sweets,  when  the  rest  of  the  ^ar^  returned  from  the  house,  * 
where  there  is  a  large  collection  of  paintings,  and,  assuring 
me  there  was  not  one  picture  worth  seeing,  cbagged  me  away 
with  them. 

In  the  weed-covered  grounds  of  the  Villa  Altieri,  which 
are  unconscious  of  flowers,  there  are  some  remains  of  ancient 
buildings,  that  have  occasioned  much  dispute  amon^  the  an- 
tiquaries, who  have  never  been  able  to  settle  whether  they 
belonged  to  the  Ludus  MatiUimu,  or  place  of  exercise  for 
the  soldiers — or  to  public  baths  that  were  contiguous  to  it — 
or  to  the  Baths  of  St.  Helena,  which  might  have  extended 
here — or  to  fifty  other  things. 

In  an  excavation  that  was  made  here  about  the  end  of 
the  seventeenth  century,  a  chamber  was  discovered,  adorned 
with  arabesques  and  landscapes ;  and  a  very  large 
was  saved,  which  was  in  the  collection  of  Cardinal  ] 
and,  I  believe,  was  purchased  by  the  late  Lord  Bristol. 

Th&  deserted  and  ruinous  Casiao  contains  nothing  except- 
ing one  very  small  ancient  painting  of  a  man  and  horse, — 
a  common  sepulchral  device.  The  design  is  good,  but  the 
colouring  feded.  Gi^he  servants  say — ^and  they  are  right- 
that  it  was  brought  from  the  Tomb  of  Ovia ;  but  Yenuti 
asserts  that  it  was  found  in  the  ruin  in  the  garden.* 

On  the  deserted  field  of  the  Esquiline  is  the  Villa  Palom- 
bara,  where  the  famous  Discobolus  of  the  Palazzo  Massimi, 
and  the  more  famous  Meleager,  are  said  to  have  been  dis- 
covered. It  once  belonged  to  Queen  Christina  of  Sweden, 
who  has  left  upon  the  little  doorway,  exactly  opposite  to  the 
ruin  called  the  Trophies  of  Marius,  a  curious  record  of  her 
credulity.  It  consists  of  a  collection  of  unintelligible  words, 
signs,  and  triangles,  given  her  by  some  alchymist,  as  the  rule 
to  make  gold,  and  wMch,  no  doubt,  he  had  found  successful, 
•  Yenuti,  parte  L  cap.  7. 

YOX.  n.  M 


Digitized  by 


Google 


162. 

baying  obtained  from  her,  and  probably  manjr  other  votaaeni^ 
abundance  of  thai  pcedoaa  metal  in  exchange  for  it.  But 
as  she  could  msake  nothing  of  it,  she  caused  it  to  be  insmbed 
here,  in  case  any  pasaen^,  wiser  than  herself,  should  ba 
able  to  de^elope  the  mystic  signs  of  this  gcdden  secret. 

All  these  Tilias,  and  their  grounds,  are  within  the  walls  of 
Borne ;  so  also  is  the  Villa  Mattei,  on  the  Coelian  Hill,  now 
*in  the  possession  of  the  Prince  of  Peace ;,  whose  name^  bo 
fiunous,  or  rather  so  in&mous  in  history,  has  fallen  into  sneh 
insignificance,  that  his  Tezr  existence  would  be  foigotten, 
but  for  the  diurnal  rattle  of  his  coach-and-six.  One  of  tho 
pleafiures  which  diversify  his  retired  and  monotonous  Hfe, 
seems  to  be  adorning  this  villa,  which  he  visits  every  day. 
His  improvements,  and  the  possession  of  an  f^^piian 
obelise,  and  the  famous  head  d  Seneca,  certainly  render  it 
worthy  of  &  visit. 

The  Villa  Giraud  in  Trastev^re,  has  (O  rare  invention !) 
a  Gasino,  built  in  the  shape  of  a  ship  of  war,  which  stands 
most  appropriately  and  pacifically  on  ory  land! 

The  Villa  Pamnli,  on  Mount  Janiculum,  commands  from 
its  summit  a  most  beautiftil  prospect ;  and  has  in  its  gardens 
a  theatre  of  fountains,  each  of  which,  when  set  a-going, 
performs  its  part,  by  spirting  out  driblets  of  water ;  not  to 
mention  the  glory  oi  tb^  whde,  a  statue  of  a  Faun,  standing 
iu  a  summer-house,  with  a  barrel-organ  bid  behind  it,  and 
set  in  motion  by  water,  which  grinds  music  that  you  are  in 
duty  bound  to  suppose  proceeds  fix)m  the  said  marble  Faun, 
though  he  is  neither  smging  nor  pla3ring,  and  the  flute  in 
his  hand  is  at  arm's4ength  from  his  nu)uth.  * 

The  Villa  Lanti,  also  on  Janiculum,  is  rather  better  worth 
seeing  than  these:;  and  it  has  the  rare  recommendation  of 
being  clean.  It  was  built  by  Giulio  Eomano,  and  it  con- 
tains four  rooms,  the  ceiUngs  of  which  a^e  painted,  partly  by^ 
himself,  and  partly  by  his  pupils,  in  fresco,  with  some  very 
pretty  arabesques,  portraits  oi  Dante,  Petrarch,  Tasso,  Boc- 
caccio, and  the  Fomarina ;  and  with  two  fine  compositions 
of  Clelia  swimming  over  the  Tiber,  and  the  discovery  of  the 
Sibyl' 8  books  on  Mount  Janiculum. 

The  magnificent  Villa  Medici,  almost  the  only  modem 
villa  on  the  Pincian  Hill,  the  OaUig.  H&rtuUyrum — has  been. 


Digitized  by 


Google 


fB£NC]i  ACADEHT.  163 

QQ&T€^d  into,  tba  IV^ick  Acadeo&y,  whevei  nfc^  the  ohsrge  of 
^eir  own  Qovemment,  a  certain  number  of  young  Fi^bg^ 
furtists  of  promise  enjojc  the  inestimable  advantages,  of  a  &w 
jreara'  stuay  at  Borne.  I  think  this,  institution  aa  hoQOUi>> 
able  to  that  nation,  as. the  want  of  it  is  disgraceful  to  our  own. 
The  iBiberality,  and  th^  pitiful  penunous  spirit  our  govern- 
ment has  alwsf a  manifested  in  everything  ifelatjve  to  the 
fine  arts,  form  a  remarkable  contrast  to  its  lavish  ex^penditure 
in  all  other  respects.  The  utility  of  such  an  academy  is  toot 
obvious  to  require  comment.  Taste  and  ^nius  are  confined 
to  no  rank.;  and^  in  general,  in  all  countries)  men  who  have 
attained  eminence  in  the  arts,  have  risen  from  the  middle: 
and  lower  classes  of  society.  To  such  me^^  iiberefere,  in  oui! 
remote  island,  poverty  will,  in  most  instances,  be  an  insuper- 
able bar  to  the  prosecuticm  of  their  studies  in  Italy,  without 
which^  I  do  not  hesitate  to  say,^  it  is  not  to  be  expected  thali 
they  should  ever  become  great  artists.  Thus^  those  who  th^ 
most  require  such  advantages  are  entirely  cut  oW  iVom  th<^n. 
But  this  is  an  imgrateful  subject,  and  I  will  npt  enlarge 
upon  it. 

To  return  to  the  Eoman  villas— 'none  of  which,  I  thinks 
remain  to  mention,  excepting  those  upon  Monte  Mario.* 

It  was  a  beautiful  day  in  February,  when  spring  already 
"purpled  all  the  earth  with  verdant  flowers^"  and  the  blos- 
soms of  the  peach  and  the  nectarine,  by  the  road-side,  shed 
their  -fragrance  through  the  air,  that  we  ascended  Mont© 
Mario,  which  Hes  about  a  mile  and  a  half  to  the  north-west  of 
Home.  The  ascent  is  too  steep  for  a  carriage,  and  we  dis- 
mounted and  walked  to  the  top.  It  is  from  this  hill  that  th& 
inajestjr  of  the  Yatican  is  seen  to  most  advantage ;  and  from 
hence,  if  I  were  a  painter,  I  would  draw  it.  The  summit  of 
Monte  Mario  is  enclosed  in  the  grounds  of  an  old  villa,  but 
is  fortunately  left  unmolested  in  its  native  carpet  of  soft  green 
turf,  which  is  canopied  by  ancient  evergreens  ;  and  beneath 
their  dark  shade,  the  proud  dome  of  St.  Peter's  at  its  base ; 
the  windings  of  the  Tiber ;  Eome,  with  the  distant  mountains 
that  bound  the  Campagna,  and  the  soft  purple  light  which 

*  Monte  Mario,  a  high  hill,  about  a  mile  and  a  half  to  the  north  of 
Itome,  is  little  noticed  by  classic  writers.  It  is  belioTed  to  have  been 
auciently  the  Clivua  Cmncc.— Vide  Nardini,  Roma  Antica. 

M  2 


Digitized  by 


Google 


164  BOHE. 

the  skies  of  Italy  shed  over  the  scene,  form  a  most  striking 
and  beautiful  picture. 

On  the  other  side  of  the  hill,  about  half-way  up,  stands  the 
Villa  Madama,  which,  like  every  possession  or  the  royal  house 
of  Famese,  is  in  a  state  of  decay  that  presents  a  dreary  con- 
trast to  the  grandeur  of  the  scale  on  which  it  is  constructed. 
The  frescos,  deiSiffned  by  Eaphael  and  executed  by  Giulio 
Bomano,  are  momderrng  on  the  mildewed  walls  of  its  porticos 
an4  saloons ;  but  these  designs  are  still  most  beautiful,  though 
their  cotouring  is  faded,  and  their  spirit  gone. 

They  consist  of  a  series  of  beautiful  little  pictures,  »Bpre- 
senting  the  sports  of  Satyrs  and  Loves ;  Juno,  attend^  by 
her  peacocks ;  Jupiter  and  Ghnymede ;  and  various  sulaects 
of  mythology  and  fable.  The  paintings  in  the  portico  Jiave 
been  of  first-rate  exceUerice ;  and  I  cannot  but  regret^  that 
designs  so  beautiful  should  not  be  engraved  before  their  last 
traces  disappear  for  ever.  A  deep  frieze  on  one  of  the 
deserted  chambers,  representing  angels,  flowers,  Caryatides, 
&c.  by  G-iuiio  Eomano ;  and  also  a  mie  fresco  on  a  ceiling,  by 
Giovanni  d'  tJdine,  of  Phoebus  driving  his  heavenly  steeds, 
are  in  somewhat  better  preservation. 

It  was  in  the  ^oves  that  surrounded  the  YiQa  Madama, 
that  the  Pastor  Mdo  of  Guarini  was  represented  for  the  first 
time,  before  a  brilliant  circle  of  princes  and  nobles,  such  as 
these  scenes  will  see  no  more,  and  Italy  itself  could  not  now 
produce.  Even  to  the  lofty  height  of  Monte  Mario,  and  to 
the  villas  which  crown  the  ancient  hiUs  of  Eome,  most  part 
of  which  are  contained  within  the  walls,  the  gradually  in- 
creasing scourge  of  the  Malaria  has  now  spread  its  baLefril 
influence,  and  broods  over  their  summer  beauty,  like  a  lurking 
demon  of  destruction. 


Digitized  by 


Google 


Digitized  by 


Google 


I — 


1  J' 


L 


Digitized  by 


Google 


vnxA  ALBAiri.  165 


LETTEE  LXX. 
Villa  Albaihc. 

The  magnificent  galleries  and  porticos  of  the  Villa  Albani 
are  filled  with  the  most  precious  collection  of  ancient 
sculpture  that  any  private  cabinet  ever  contained ;  and  even 
those  great  public  museums  which  have  been  accumulated 
by  the  labour  of  nations  and  of  ages,  can  scarcely  boast  any- 
more rare  and  valuable  than  this  still  is ;  thoughit  has  been 
robbed  of  many  of  its  choicest  treasures. 

Its  beauty  and  rarity  so  strongly  excited  the  cupidity  of 
the  French,  that,  although  private  property,  they  had  carried 
off  upwards  of  two  hundred  pieces  of  sculpture,  and  had 
packed  up  many  more  ready  for  embarkation,  when  the  un- 
expected reverses  of  their  Emperor  drove  the  plunderers 
beyond  the  Alps. 

The  diminisaed  fortune  of  their  present  proprietor,  the 
Prince  Albani,  rendered  him  unable  to  incur  the  heavy  ex- 
pense of  their  re-transportation ;  and  the  inimitable  ruievo 
of  Antinous  is  the  only  one  that  has  been  brought  back. 

Impoverished  as  this  museum  is,  so  inexhaustible  are  its 
treasures,  that  I  have  spent  whole  mornings  in  its  beautiM 
cabinets,  and  reluctantly  left  them  only  with  the  last  light 
of  day,  without  feeling  that  I  have  yet  sufficiently  seen  it. 
Many  collections,  indeed,  are  more  numerous ;  but  none  are 
80  choice.  In  general,  with  much  that  is  beautiful,  there  is 
more  that  is  bad ;  even  the  magnificent  halls  of  the  Vatican 
contain  a  good  deal  of  very  mediocre  sculpture ;  so  also  does 
the  Capitol,  the  Galleiy  of  Morence,  and  that  still  finer  col- 
lection, the  Studii  of  Naples.  But  here  there  is  scarcely  a 
single  piece  that  is  not  remarkable  either  for  its  rarity  or 
beauty,  and  their  intrinsic  value  is  only  exceeded  bv  the 
taste  and  elegance  with  which  they  are  arranged.  Volumes 
might  and  have  been  written  upon  this  museum.    It  was 


Digitized  by 


Google 


166  3K}KI* 

the  school  of  the  celebrated  Winkelman,  and  he  has  left  so 
complete  and  critical  an  account  of  its  sculptures,*  that  it 
would  be  the  height  of  presumption  in  me  to  paiticularize 
them ;  indeed,  I  almost  feel  afraid  to  speak  of  them  at  all^ 
lest  I  should  be  led  to  dwell  too  long  upon  what  is  so  inte- 
resting in  inspection,  and  so  dull  in  description. 

The  viQa,  or  casino,  in  which  they  are  placed,  by  far  the 
most  beautiful  building  of  the  kind  I  have  seen  at  Borne, 
possesses  a  light  polished  elegance,  and  a  decorated  beauty, 
which  is  truly  Italian,  and  accords  with  the  scene,  the  CU- 
Inate,  and  the  statitary. 

In  the  principal  portico,  which  is  sustained  by  forty-four 
ftnagnificent  columns  of  various  marbles,  stands  a  Ime  of 
Emperors;  rare  bassi-relievi  are  encased  in  the  walls; 
'Egyptian  Spihinxes  rest  on  the  marble  pavement,  and  at  the 
far  extremity  appears  Juno  Lucina,  descending  from  Olympug 
to  Erebus,  bearing  her  torch ;  her  drapery  blown  back  by 
the  wind — her  feet  in  air — (the  whole  figure  being  advanced 
in  front  of  the  lofty  pedestal,)  and  her  easy  rapid  gliding 
motion  through  mid-aiT,  are  reptesented  with  so  much  art, 
that  the  statue  actually  seems  to  move.  It  seems,  indeed,  to 
realize  the  description  of  the  ancient  poets,  who  compare  the 
progress  of  Juno  to  that  velocity  with  which  thought  can 
traverse  distant  regions. 

The  unique  statue  of  Domitian,  the  only  one  which  has 
escaped  destruction,  was  found  broken,  and  buried  under- 
ground, the  limbs,  head,  and  body  sundered,  and  hacked  all 
over  with  the  furious  blows  of  axes,  (the  marks  of  which  are 
still  visible,)  proofs  of  the  violence  that  had  been  used  to 
destroy  every  image  of  the  monster  whose  crimes  had  dis- 
graced humanity. 

Attached  to  the  lower  part  of  the  building,  are  two  gal- 
leries, chiefly  filled  with  Termine,  or  Herme8,t  of  Grecian 

•  Chiefly  in  his  *  Monumenti  Inediti,'  and  also  in  the  *  Storia  dell* 
Arte. '  The  reader  will  find  a  more  than  complete  eatalogue  of  them  in 
the  '  Indicazione  Antiquaria/  which  contains  those  taken  away. 

+  It(jan  scarcely  be  necessary  to  observe,  that  all  the  figures  of  this 
description  bore  originally  the  bead  of  Merculy,  from  which  they 
derived  their  generic  name.  They  were  very  eommoa  among  the 
ancients,  and  8ome  have  supposed  that  they  were  even  used  as  posts  for 
gates  and  fences,  about  their  pleasarergvounds.    To  their  :mult|pliei1iy 


Digitized  by 


Google 


TSBlCIirAIi  TIGURES.  167 

tASoBOp|her8  or  meka;  maay  of  wbicH  are  unknown,  and 
many  of  very  doubtful  authenticity.  The  most  interesting  I 
flaw,  were  the  fine  genuine  head  of  Epicurus,  the  Mercury 
wtt^  the  douhle  inscription,  and  the  very  ancient  and  curious 
g^tue  of  the  Priestess  of  Iws,  bearing  a  sistrum  of  bronze 
and  marble  pwefericulum ;  its  fine  draroery,  of  the  kind  called 
Btmscan,  is  more  properly  of  the  early  &recian  school,  and 
the  head  bears  a  close  resemblance  to  those  of  the  Egina 
marbles. 

By  far  the  finest  statues  in  the  lower  part  of  the  building, 
are  the  two  exquisitely  beautiful  Caryatides,  representing 
Ghrecian  Oanephorae,  or  basket-bearers,  carrying  tneir  offer- 
ings to  the  temple  of  Venus  or  Pallas.  They  were  found 
on  the  Appian  Way,  near  the  tomb  of  Cecilia  MeteUa,  and 
must  have  once  adorned  some  Eoman  villa  or  sepulchre. 
According  to  the  inscriptions  upon  them,  they  are  tne  work 
of  Criton  and  Nicolaus,  Grecian  sculptors,  who  are  supposed 
to  have  come  to  Eome  before  the  death  of  Julius  Caesar. 

I  must  pass  over  the  beautiful  ancient  copies  of  the  Cupid 
bending  his  bow,  and  the  Faun  of  Praxiteles;  the  Irwo 
Ptolemies  of  Egypt, — ^the  unique  Nemesis, — ^the  figure  of 
Marsyas  suspended  to  a  tree,  the  living  victim  of  the  ven- 
geance of  ApoUo, — the  relievo,  in  rosso  antico  marble,  of 
IMogenes  in  his  tub  talking  to  Alexander  the  Great, — 
Dseoalus  forming  the  wings  of  of  Icarus, — and  a  thousand 
other  admirable  works, — and  conduct   you  to  the  grand 

we  owe  muny  heads  <^  the  ancients,  which  would  otherwise  have  been 
iiTCCoverably  lost.  These  Termine  are  nearly  of  the  human  height,  with 
heads  only;  the  rest  of  the  marble  unformed,  and  sloping  gradually 
down  to  the  base,  as  if  the  man  had  been  immured  in  a  marble  case  up 
lo  the  shoulders.  In  fact,  horrible  -  incredibly  horrible  as  the  tale 
may  i^eem,  this  fate  was  once  endured  by  a  human  being.  An  unfortu- 
nate, but  guilty  woman,  was  walled  up  alive  in  this  manner  by  her  own 
«on,  her  head  only  being  left  at  liberty ;  and  fed  with  bread  and  water 
for  the  space  of  about  thirteen  months,  when  she  died.  The  fact  is 
mentioned  in  Gingu6ne  s  *  Hist.  Littfiraire  de  I'ltalie;*  although  I  can- 
not remember  in  what  part  of  it.  But  in  many  monasteries  abroad,  and 
even  in  England  — for  instance,  in  the  crypt  of  Gloucester  Cathedral, 
which  anciently  belonged  to  the  monatsteries  -  cavities  are  still  shown, 
fashioned  in  the  wall,  apparently  intended  to  immure  a  human  body, 
tLe  chest  and  head  only  l)eing  above  the  walL  Tradition  tells  of  many 
victims  having  Buffered  this  horrible  fate. 


Digitized  by 


Google 


168  BOME. 

liliero  of  Borne  TriumpHaat,  guarding  the  prin<^al 
entrance. 

The  pretended  statue  of  Bratus,  but  more  probably  of  a 
Boman  actor,  and  several  others  here,  will  not  detain  you 
lon^;  but  the  colossal  masks,  the  ancient  paintings,  the 
curious  mosaics,  and  the  rare  bassi-rilievi,  which  decorate 
the  walls,  wiU  greatly  impede  your  progress  up  the  stair- 
case. 

In  the  oval  vestibule  at  the  top,  between  the  two  no- 
ble columns  of  giallo  antico,  appears  the  celebrated  and 
beautiful  little  statue  of  the  Faun.  The  grand  rilievo 
represents  the  Sacrifice  of  Mithra,  an  exquisite  piece  of 
sculpture ;  and  the  ancient  marble  Meze  all  the  minutisB 
of  the  circus  races. 

A  little  room  is  furnished  with  singularly  beautifol  ta- 
pestry, executed  from  designs  of  the  Memish  School,  at 
Kome,  by  one  of  Cardinal  Albani's  own  servants,  who  dis- 
covered an  uncommon  talent  for  the  art,  and,  encouraged 
by  his  master,  established  a  manufactory  of  it,  which  has 
long  since  perished. 

£1  the  most  beautiful  little  apartment  (or  cabinet,  as 
it  is  called)  that  was  ever  beheld,  are  contained  some  of 
the  choicest  treasures  of  art.  The  beauty  of  the  little 
bronze  statue  of  the  Famese  Hercules,  the  Pallas,  the 
Diana,  the  Canopus,  the  exquisite  little  Faun  with  the 
Thyrsus,  the  Diogenes,  the  Expiation  of  Hercules,  the  ala- 
baster busts  and  inimitable  bassi-rilievi,  are  aU  surpassed 
by  the  famous  Apollo  Sawroctonos,  which,  in  the  judg- 
ment of  Winkelman,  is  the  original  of  Praxiteles,  de- 
scribed by  PHny,  and  the  most  beautiful  bronze  statue 
now  left  in  the  world.*  It  was  found  in  a  perfect  state 
upon  Mount  Aventine,  but  the  trunk  of  the  tree  and  the 
lizard  are  wanting.  These  are  preserved  in  an  ancient 
copy,  said  to  be  very  inferior,  which  was  in  the  Borghese 
Collection.t 

There  is  a  curious  little  sculpture  in  emerald  plasm, 
(plasma  di  smeraldo,)  a  sort  of  green  crystallization,  (not, 

•  Winkelman,  Hist,  de  TArt,  \iv.  vi.  chap.  2.  v.  47—60. 
+  The  Borghese  Collection  was  given  up  by  Prince  Boi^hese  to  the 
French.    The  whole,  or  the  greatest  part  of  it,  is  now  in  the  Louvre. 


Digitized  by 


Google 


MINSBTA  AITB  AJBTTISOVn.  169 

however,  according  to  mineraloffistB,  bearing  any  real  af- 
finity to  the  emerald,)  said  to  be  the  only  known  speci- 
men ia  sculpture  of  thjuB  subatanoe. 

It  is  impossible  for  me  to  describe  to  you  the  richneaa, 
delicacy,  beauty,  and  taste,  either  of  this  costly  cabinet 
itself,  of  the  next  that  follows  it,  or  of  the  great  hall.  I 
might  tell  of  ceiling  painted  by  Mengs,  of  floors  payed 
with  pictured  mosaics,  of  walls  inlaid  with  precious  ala- 
basters of  columns  and  pilasters  of  polished  porphyry  and 
ancient  marbles,  of  mirrors,  of  gilding,  of  mches,  and  of 
gems,  without  end ;  but  I  could  neyer  convey  to  you  the 
effect  to  the  eye  of  such  magnificence,  united  with  such 
taste — of  materials  so  rich,  and  architecture  so  beautiful. 

In  one  of  the  alcoves  of  this  noble  hall,  stands  by  far 
the  finest  statue  of  Jupiter  I  have  ever  seen;  and  the 
Other  is  filled  by  the  finest  statue  of  Minerva  in  the  world, 
which  is  pronounced  by  Winkelman  to  be  the  only  monu- 
ment now  existing  at  Home,  of  the  sublime  style  of  art 
that  lasted  from  the  age  of  Phidias  to  that  of  Praxite- 
les.* It  is  in  perfect  peservation, — afresh  as  when  it 
first  issued  from  the  sculptor's  hands.  Nothing  can  ex- 
ceed the  majesty  of  the  figure,  nor  the  exquisite  grace 
of  the  drapery.  There  is  a  peculiarily  in  the  JEgis  and 
helmet,  which  has  given  rise  to  much  learned  and  tedi- 
ous discussion. 

I  must  pass  over,  unnoticed,  the  four  beautiful  bassi 
rilievi  in  this  magnificent  hall,  of  Marcus  Aurelius,  the 
Choice  of  Hercules,  Icarus  and  Dsedalus,  and  Bellerophon 
holding  Pegasus — ^though  hours  may  well  be  spent  in  ex- 
amining them — and  conduct  you  into  a  Httle  sitting-room, 
in  the  marble  chimney-piece  of  which  is  fixed  the  far-famed 
rilievo  of  Antinous,  crowned  with  lotus  flowers.  If  the 
Minerva  be  a  monument  of  the  *  style  sublime,'  this  is 
incontestably  a  specimen  of  the  *  beau  style'  of  art,  which 
began  with  Praxiteles,  and  lasted  imtil  the  decline  of  taste 
once  more  introduced  imitation  of  the  Egyptian.  The 
characteristic  of  the  *  beau  style'  was  grace, — -but  "  Grace," 

*  Hist,  de  TArt,  liv.  iv.  chap.  6.  §  28.  Besides  this  Mineira. 
Niobe  and  her  Children  are  the  only  other  sculptures  Winkelman 
classes  as  works  of  this  epoch  "  du  style  sublime" 


Digitized  by 


Google 


170  BOXX. 

811^8  WinkdnnB, ''  aa  revered  bj  iihe  «BGieDt%  was  of  two 
kinds, — 'the  one  of  celestial,  the  other  of  human  birth,'* — 
one,  "  the  companion  of  the  god«»  the  divine  oH^ring  of 
heaven,  addresses  itself  to  the  mind  rather  than  the  eye, 
conceals  itself  in  the  inmost  recesses  of  the  soul,  and  re- 
veals  itself  onlf  to  gifted  genius.  It  wa«  this  grace  which 
inspired  Phidias."*  The  second  grace,  the  humble  and 
earth-bom  companion  of  the  other,  gives  to  beauty  its 
charm,  and  alone  ddgns  to.  visit  the  modem  masters  of 
art.  But  the  great  masters  of  the  ^  beau  stjle'  associated 
the  first  grace  with  the  second; — and  there  can  8urel7 
be  no  better  instance  of  their  union,  (the  Apollo  Belve- 
dere excepted,)  than  in  this  exquisite  fragment  of  sculp- 
ture, which,  it  is  no  exaggeration  to  say,  we  can  return 
to  gaze  at  for  ever  with  unwearying  admiration.  It  is 
supposed  to  have  formed  a  part  oi  the  Apotheosis  of  An- 
tinous ;  the  hand,  in  which  the  restorer  nas  now  placed 
a  garland  of  flowers,  seems,  frdm  its  position,  to  have  held 
the  reins,  and  the  figure  to  have  been  placed  in  a  car  of 
triumph,  in  which  manner  the  ancients  represented  the 
elevation  of  their  heroes  to  gods,  as  commonly  as  borne 
on  the  wings  of  the  eagle.  "  As  fresh,  and  as  highly- 
finished,  as  if  it  had  just  left  the  studio  of  the  scidptw, 
this  work,  after  the  Apollo  and  the  Laocoon,  is,  perhaps, 
the  most  beautiful  monument  of  antiquity  which  time  has 
transmitted  to  U8."t  I  could  not  but  feel  as  if  it  had 
been  treated  with  degradation,  in  being  stuck  ioto  a  com- 
mon chimney-piece. 

I  shall  conclude  by  mentioning  the  famous  Thetis,  so  long 
an  ornament  of  this  museum,  which  was  carried  off  by  the 
French  to  adorn  the  Louvre.  It  was  originally  discovered 
by  Cardinal  Albani,  in  making  an  excavation  at  the  Villa  of 
Antoninus  Pius,  at  Lanuvium,  "  but  it  is  assuredly  a  work  of 
a  date  far  anterior  to  that  age,  and  undeniably  one  of  the 
most  beautiful  figures  of  antiquity."  J 

From  the  attitude — an  oar  in  the  left  hand,  resting  on  a 
Triton,  and  one  of  the  legs  a  little  raised,  as  if  riding  on  the 
prow  of  a  vessel — ^it  is  conjectured  to  represent  Thetis,  though 

*  Hiflt.  de  r  Art,  liv.  iv.  chap.  6.  §  80,  87,  Ac. 
t  Ibid.,  Uv.  ri.  chap.  7.  §  28.  t  Ibid.  $  89. 


Digitized  by 


Google 


STATUI  OF  THETIS,  171 

it  flivf  bie  l^e  Cmdiftn  Wniu,  sumaiB&cL  the  Yentus  bf  profii- 
JMsroufi  ftavigatioti.  Winkeltnan  goes  into  ecstasies  about  itw 
'*  In  no  feliaid^  statoe,"  fae  exclmms,  "  scaiKely  even  in  the 
Ventis  de'  Medids,  do  we  see,  as  in  this,  /«a  fraicheur  et 
rinnocenoe  de  la  pita  tendre  jeunesse,^^  &c,  and  yet  this 
Bttftne,  with  all  the  ** bloom  of  tender  youth,*'  had  no  head! 
But  he  supplies  the  want  with  a  head  like  a  rose-bud. — 
"  Upon  this  beautiM  body,"  he  adds,  "  Vimagmation  aime  h 
placer  une  tite  semblahle  a  un  houton  de  rose  qui  commence  a 
s'epcmouir^'*  &c.  The  bead  which  the  restorer  has  placed 
upon  it,  is  not  in  the  least  like  a  rose-bud;  but  when  a 
fine  ancient  statue  has  but  an  indifferent  modem  head, 
which  often  happens,  the  best  way  is  to  look  at  it  as  if  it  had 
none.  The  raptures,  however,  into  which  Winkelman  is 
thrown  by  this  head,  which  he  sees  only  in  imagination,  are 
nothing  to  the  transports  excited  by  the  body  which  he 
actually  beholds;  and  he  hopes  "he  may  be  forgiven  for 
believing,  that  the  poets  of  Greece  alluded  to  this  very 
statue,  when  they  spoke  of  the  limbs  of  Thetis,  as  the  model 
of  beauty.  "The  man  of  genius,'*  he  proceeds,  "at  the  sight 
of  this  beautiful  Nereid,  transported  beyond  the  time  of 
Homer,  sees  Thetis  rising  from  the  bosom  of  the  ocean — 
before  she  was  sensible  to  the  love  of  any  mortal — before  her 
union  with  Peleus  was  thought  of — before  her  youthful 
charms  had  kindled  the  passion  of  the  three  gods — before 
even  the  first  ship  had  cut  the  waves  of  the  ^gean  sea ;  for 
the  prow  on  which  she  rests  her  foot,  is  only  an  attribute  to 
make  her  known."* 

He  goes  on  in  this  way  through  several  pages.  What 
he  did  not  do  well,  I  cannot  hope  to  do  better.  Perfection 
in  art,  is,  indeed,  indescribable.  All  we  can  learn  from 
the  most  ingenious  description  by  the  man  of  taste  and 
genius,  or  the  critic  of  judgment  and  discernment,  is,  that 
the  thing  described  must  be  something  very  pretty.  Such 
the  Thetis  certainly  is,  as  all  who  have  seen  the  original,  now 
at  Paris,  or  the  cast  at  Eome,  must  allow. 

If  I  were  to  enumerate  aU  the  sculptures  in  the  smaller 
casinos,  porticos,  billiard-rooms,  caf6,  &c.,  which,  however, 
are  in  general  inferior  to  those  of  the  great  building,  I 
•  Hist,  de  r Art,  liv.'  vii.  chap.  7.  §  40. 


Digitized  by 


Google 


172  B0M1C. 

fihould  but  vainly  try  to  give  you  an  idea  of  the  treasures  of 
this  museum, — of  the  beautiful  statues  I  have  left  wholly 
unmentioned,  of  the  curious  mosaics,  the  ancient  paintings, 
the  bronzes,  the  inscriptions,  the  marble  columns,  the  vases 
the  sarcophagi,  and  the  innumerable  and  inestimable  bassi- 
rilievi,  which  adorn  this  wonderful  temple  of  art.  The  hours 
of  pleasure  I  have  spent  within  it  are  over.  This  very  day 
I  have  visited  it  for  the  last  time,  and  its  remembrance  is  ah 
that  is  left  me.* 

*  I  ought  to  have  mentioned,  what  Winkehnan  pronounces  to  be 
one  of  the  six  finest  bas-reliefs  in  the  world, — ^the  Marriage  of  Peleus 
and  Thetis;  but  I  grieve  to  say  that,  by  some  nnfortnnate  chance,  in  all 
my  visits  to  the  Villa  Albani,  I  never  saw  this  remarkable  piece  of 
sculpture,  if  indeed  it  still  remains  there. 


Digitized  by 


Google 


PBESXKTATIOK  TO  THE  FOFE.  178 


LETTER  LXXI. 
The  Pope.— Pitts  VH. 

To-DATwe  were  presented  to  the  Pope  in  a  summer-house 
of  the  Vatican  gardens,  where  he  went  to  receive  ns ;  for  his 
Holiness  may  not  admit  a  female  within  the  sanctuary  of  his 
palace.  'Now,  to  my  thinking,  his  stealing  in  this  private 
mamier  into  the  garden  to  meet  ladies,  according  to  a  pre- 
vious assignation,  wears  a  much  more  equivocal  appearance, 
and  might,  indeed,  give  rise  to  much  scandal. 

Five  o'clock  was  the  hour  fixed  for  the  interview ;  and  we 
had  just  arrived  at  the  indicated  summer-house,  which  con- 
tains two  good  carpeted  drawing-rooms,  when,  "  punctual  as 
lovers  to  the  moment  sworn,"  the  Pope  entered,  took  off  his 
large  round  red  hat,  and,  severally  bowing  to  each  of  us, 
passed  on  into  the  inner  room,  whither  we  were  conducted 
bj  Cardinal  •  •  •  and  presented.  But,  alas !  here  the 
similitude  failed — ^the  natural  order  of  things  was  reversed — 
for  instead  of  the  Pope,  like  an  impassioned  lover,  dropping 
down  on  his  knees  to  us,  it  was  our  business  to  kneel  to 
him. 

This,  however,  his  holiness,  being  apprised  of  our  being 
^^LutTieramj^  would  bv  no  means  allow.  Jjistead  of  his  toe,  we 
kissed  his  hand,  which  ceremony  being  performed,  he  seated 
us  beside  him,  and  chatted  with  us  very  pleasantly  for  above 
half  an  hour — ^told  us  about  old  times  and  old  stories,  and  all 
he  used  to  do  when  he  was  a  raaazzo,  ^'  Like  all  other  old 
people,"  he  said,  laughrDg  good-numouredly,  "  he  thought  all 
thiDgs  were  changed  for  the  worse.  The  very  seasons  were 
chained,  opinions  were  changed,  times  were  changed." — 
"  TuUo  e  mutato :  jmrna  le  teste,  epoi  gU  tempi :  sopra  ttUto 
son  nrntato  io,^*  contiuued  he,  laughing ;  and  he  drew  a  very 
droll  picture  of  what  he  was  when  a  mischievous  little  urchin 


Digitized  by 


Google 


174  BQICK 

He  was  polite  enougli  to  choose  to  think  *'  it  was  scarcelj 
possible  we  could  be  English,  though  he  had  heard  so — we 
spoke  Italian  so  well ;  and  could  hardly  believe  we  had  only 
been  a  few  months  in  Italy.  He  said  .he  particularly  dis- 
liked speaking  French — he  supposed  because  he  spoke  it 
particularly  ill ;  but,  indeed,  he  had  little  reason  to  like  any- 
thing French."  Seizing  upon  this  opening,  we  made  some 
remarks  on  the  occupation  of  Italy  by  the  French,  which 
drew  from  him  a  most  energetic  picture  of  the  miseries  which 
they  had  brought  upon  this  unhappy  land — of  the  wrongs 
th^  had  committed,  and  the  curse  they  had  entailed  upon  it. 
"  xou  see  it  now,'*  he  added, ''  a  chaoiged  country,  exha^ted 
and  bleeding  un<W  the  wounds  of  its  enemies.  Their  rapa- 
city, not  content  with  despoiling  it  of  its  ornaments,  has 
robbed  it  of  its  prosperity,  and  of  that  spirit  of  iateroal 
peace  and  conci^rd,  which  no  time  can  restore." 

He  spoke  of  Venice,  his  native  state,  of  its  flourishing  con- 
dition before  they  seized  it-^— of  the  rapid  destruction  to  which 
it  has  ever  since  been  haafeaning. 

I  happened  to  observe,  how  fortunaJse  it  was  that  they  had 
been  compelled  to  restore  all  they  had  plundered  from  Bome 
(meaning  works  of  art).  "All!"  he  exclaimed — "What I 
have  they  restored  the  blood  they  have  spilt — ^the  wealth  they 
have  squandered — ^the  morals  they  have  corrupted?  Have 
they  restored  the  noble  families  they  reduced  to  beggary — 
the  sons  to  the  mothers  they  rendered  childless— the  hmt- 
band  to  the  widow  ?'* 

When  venerable  age  is  roused  to  the  energy  and  emotioA 
we  expect  only  from  youth — ^when  the  quenched  eye  lightens, 
and  the  hoary  locks  are  shook  with  the  bitter  sense  of  wrongs 
and  regrets,  there  is  something  sacred  in  its  feelings,  which 
commands  our  respect  and  awe. 

This  burst  of  feeling  over,  he  spoke  of  the  French  with 
that  mildness  of  spirit,  which  is  the  governing  principle  of  his 
truly  christian  character.  "  In  sorrow  more  iaian  anger**  he 
seemed  to  look  on  the  past ;  and  throughout,  that  inde- 
scribable something  far  stronger  than  Words — in  the  tone, 
eye,  mind,  and  gesture,  made  us  feel  that  it  was  abhorrence 
of  injustice,  vidence,  oppression,  and  impiety,  and  not  the 
sense  of  pei^onal  injury  and  insult,  thail  moved  the  virtuji^us 


Digitized  by 


Google 


PBOTESTAVTICaC  AT  BOMS.  175 

indignation  of  this  venerable  old  man;  whose  meekness, 
patience,  and  humility,  have  through  life  been  his  most  cha- 
racteristic qualities. 

We  retired  with  his  blessing,  and  an  invitation  to  return 
again,  which  we  are  told  is,  as  well  as  the  length  of  our  in- 
terview, very  rare.  Accordingly,  we  were  much  flattered. 
The  honour  of  having  him  afl  to  ourselves — ^for  even  the 
Cardinal  retired — ^was,  however,  I  believe,  purely  accidental. 
In  general  he  holds  a  female  levee,  and  receives  all  at  once. 
Everybody  is  desired  to  be  dressed  up  to  the  throat,  and  to 
wear  a  veil,  which  is  however,  almost  always  thrown  back. 
Some  of  our  very  scrupulous  countrywomen  have  declined 
presentation  to  the  Pope,  because  it  goes  against  their  con^ 
sciences  to  call  him  'vostra  Santita.'  There  are  certainly 
some  people  who  strain  at  a  gnat  and  swallow  a  camel. 

I  forgot  to  answer  one  of  your  queries.  You  tell  me  that 
you  hear  the  Pope  is  a  bigot.  I  can  only  tell  you,  in  proof 
of  hi^  liberality,  that  he  permits  the  English  to  have  regular 
public  worship,  according  to  the  rites  and  service  of  our 
own  heretical  church;  and  that  during  three  successive 
winters,  we  have,  had  a  set  of  rooms  openly  hired  for  the 
express  purpose.  I  cannot  exactly  say  that  he  gave  hi» 
consent ;  for  when  it  was  asked,  he  rather  signified  that.  it. 
might  be  as  well  to  do  without  it. 

If  the  spirit  of  Martin  Luther  could  look  down,  he  would 
surely  rejoice  to  see  his  own  tenets  and  doctrines  openly 
preached  in  the  very  city  which  would  have  burnt  him  for 
holding  tbem. 

This  toleration  of  Lutheranism  is,  however,  an  unpre- 
cedented circumstance;  and  some  of  the  cardinals  are  ex- 
tremely scandalized  with  this  unhallowed  license,  and  even 
pretend  ignorance  of  it.  To  those  to  whom  I  know  it  is 
peculiarly  obnoxious,  I  have  a  mischievous  pleasure  in  intro- 
duc.ng  the  subject,  as  if  by  chance ;  for  instance,  at  the  con- 
versazione on  Sunday  evenings,  complaining  of  the  rooms 
haxing  been  too  much  crowded  in  the  morning  during  the 
English  service,  or  lamenting  that  we  were  likely  soon  to 
lose  one  of  our  best  clergymen,  &c.,  &c., — or  remarking,  as 
if  in  compliment,  the  liberal  policy  of  the  court  of  Borne,  in 
now.  permitting  the  exercise  of  our  religion,  almost  as  freely 
as  we  allow  of  theirs. 


Digitized  by 


Google 


176  SOME. 


LETTEB  liXXIL  ,.^ 

Peooessiok  to  the  Minebva — Palm  SnrDAT.'    "/ 

■  Eome  ifl  foil  of  pilgrims,  who,  ^th  their  stares,  liie^ 
scrips,  their  cockle-shells,  their  oil-skin  tippets,  aaid'  iStiiAe 
large  slouched  hats,  remind  one  more  of  days  of  joa:«  jgf^ 
tales  of  romance,  than  anything  one  could  have  expe<sbed^ip 
have  seen  realized  in  the  nineteenth  century. 

It  is  also  crowded  with  much  less  picturesque  objedas^^-^ 
carriages  full  of  bewildered  forestieri,  driving  iabout;  a^ 
se^dng  for  a'  place  wherein  to  lay  their  heads,  vi  i^Bdki. 
Every  hotel  and  lodging  is  full,  even  to  overflowing.  ii?|Sfh 
curious  heretics;  every  church  is  crowded  with  i&^i^ 
Eomans;  and  every  pulpit  resounds  with  the  stentoGtei 
voice  of  some  fiiar,  denouncing,  with  all  the  vehemeaicii  of 
Italian  energy  and  gesticulation,  the  horrors  of  hell,  and 
demonstrating  that  his  congregation  are  in  the  fair  way 
to  tumble  into  that  fiery  abyss.  A  preacher  has  not  the 
smallest  chance  of  popularity  here,  who  does  not  fing^ten 
his  auditors  out  of  their  senses.  Even  iu  the  open  piazzas, 
these  zealous  friars  raise  their  crucifix,  and  hold  forth  to  the 
gaping  multitude. 

-  Frequent  processions  of  penitents,  covered  with  long  dark 
robes,  which  pass  over  the  head,  and  have  holes  cut  for  the 
eyes,  girded  round  the  waist  with  ropes,  preceded  by  a  large 
black  cross,  and  bearing  skulls,  and  bones,  and  begging- 
boxes-  for  the  souls  in  purgatory,  are  to  be  seen  passmg  in 
silence  along  the  streets,  or  gHdmg  through  the  solitude  of 
the  Colosseum,  or  beneath  the  Triumphal  Arches  and  ruins 
of  ancient  Eome.  A  party  of  these  mysterious-looking 
figures  that  I  saw  yesterday  emerging  mym  the  Arch  of 
Titus,  and  entering  the  Colosseum,  where  they  knelt  in 
silence  and  in  deep  prayer  upon  its  once  blood-stained,  area 
before  the  altars  of  the  Yia  Cruds,  had  a  very  striking 


Digitized  by 


Google 


) 


y  Google 


Digitized  by 


Google 


PALM  BITJnDAT.  177 

effect.  AH  these  are  foreruimers  of  the  Holy  Week,  to 
which  munense  multitudes  still  flock  £rom  all  parts ;  though 
now,  I  believe,  more  from  curiosity  than  pie^,  and  &r 
amusement  than  penitence.  A  real  penance,  however,  it 
has  proved  to  me ;  and  if  I  were  to  hve  in  Bome  for  fiftj 
years,  I  would  never  ^o  through  it  again;  though  I  am 
glad  that  I  have  seen  it  once — ^now  that  it  is  over.  Before 
the  Holy  Week  our  sufferings  began ;  we  were  disturbed 
the  very  morning  after  our  return  from  Na^es,  with  the 
information  that  it  was  a  grand  festa — ^the  Pesta  of  the 
Annunciation,  and  that  a  grand  fimzione  waa  to  take  place 
at  the  church  of  Santa  Maria  Sopra  Minerva,  preceded  by 
a  still  more  superb  procession — ^and  that  we  must  get  up 
to  see  it,  which  we  accordingly  did;  and  drove  tmx)ugQ 
streets  Imed  with  expecting  crowds,  and  windows  hung 
with  crimson  and  yellow  «&  draperies,  and  occupied  by 
females  in  their  most  gorgeous  atibire,  till  we  made  a  stop 
near  the  church,  before  which  the  Fope*s  horse-guards,  in 
their  splendid  Ml-dress  uniforms,  -were  stationed  to  keep 
the  ground ;  all  of  whom,  both  officers  and  men,  wore  in 
their  caps  a  spri^  of  myrtle,  aa  a  sign  of  rejoicing.  After 
waiting  a  short  time,  the  procession  appeared,  headed  by 
another  detachment  of  the  guards,  mounted  on  prancing 
black  chargers,  who  rode  forward  to  dear  the  way,  accom- 
panied by  such  a  flourish  of  trumpets  and  kettle-drums,  that 
it  looked  like  an^hing  but  a  peaceable  or  religious  proceed- 
ing. This  marnal  array  was  followed  by  a  bare-headed 
pnest,  on  a  white  mule,  bearing  the  Host  in  a  gold  cup,  at 
the  sight  of  which  everybody, — ^not  excepting  our  coach- 
man, who  dropped  down  on  the  box, — fell  upon  their 
knees,  and  we  were  left  alone,  heretically  sitting  in  the 
open  barouche. 

The  Pope,  I  understand,  used  formerly  to  ride  upon  the 
white  mule  himself;  whether  in  memory  of  our  Saviour's 
entrance  into  Jerusalem  on  an  ass  or  no,  1  cannot  say ;  and 
aU  the  cardinals  used  to  follow  him  in  their  magniflcent 
robes  of  state,  mounted  either  on  mules  or  horses ;  and  as 
the  Emmentissvm*  are,  for  the  most  part,  not  very  eminent 

*  Mminentissimo  is  the  title  by  wliich  a  Cardinal  is  addressed  ia 
eonversatioxL 


VOL.  II. 


Digitized  by 


Google 


178  noia. 

horsemen,  they  -^te  generallj  tied  cm,  lert  they  shoiild 
tumble  off.  This  eavtaleade  must  have  been  a  very  enter- 
taining sight.  I  understand  that  Pius  VI.,  who  was  a  very 
handsome  man,  kept  up  this  custom,  but  the  present  Pope, 
Pius  VII.,  is  far  too  infirm  for  such  an  enterprise ;  so  he 
followed  the  man  on  the  white  mule  in  his  state  coach ;  at 
the  very  sight  of  which  we  seemed  to  have  made  a  jump 
back  of  t^o  hundred  years  at  least.  It  was  a  huge  machine, 
composed  almost  entirely  of  plate-glass,  fixed  in  a  ponderous 
Carved  and  gilded  irame, 'through  which  was  distinctly  visible 
the  person  of  the  venerable  old  Pope,  dressed  in  robes  of 
white  and  silver,  and  incessantly  givmg  his  benediction  to 
the  people,  by  a  twirl  of  three  fingers — ^which  is  typical  of 
the  Trinity. 

On  the  gilded  back  of  this  vehicle,  the  only  part  I  think 
that  was  n^  made  of  glass,  was  a  picture  of  tne  Pope  in 
his  chair  of  state,  and  the  Virgin  Mary  at  Ms  feet  This 
fextraordinary  machine  was  drawn  by  six  black  horses,  with 
Buperb  httmess  of  crimson  velvet  and  gold ;  the  coachmen, 
or  rather  postilions,  were  dressed  in  coats  of  silver  tissue, 
with  crimson  velvet  breeches,  and  full-bottom  wigs  well 
powdered,  without  hats. 

Three  coaches,  scarcely  less  antiquely  superb,  follotred 
with  the  assistant  cardinals,  and  the  rest  of  the  train.  In 
the  inside  of  the  church,  the  usual  tiresome  ceremonies 
went  on  which  take  place  when  the  Pope  is  present.  He  is 
seated  on  a  throne,  or  chair  of  state ;  the  cardinals,  in  suc- 
cession, approach  and  kiss  his  hand,  retire  one  step,  and 
make  three  bows  or  nods,  one  to  him  in  front,  one  on 
the  right  hand, -and  another  on  the  left;  which,  I  am  told, 
are  intended  for  him,  (as  the  personification  of  the  Father,) 
and  for  the  Son,  and  for  the  Holy  Ghost,  on  either  side  of 
him ;  and  all  the  Cardinals  havmg  gone  through  these 
motions,  and  the  inferior  priests  having  kissed  his  toe — ^thjit 
is,  'the  Cross  embroidered  on  his  shoe — high  mass  begins. 
The  Pope  kneels  during  the  elevation  of  the  Host,  prays  in 
"silence  1)efore  the  high  altar,  gets  up  and  sits  down,  reads 
something  out  of  a  great  booK  which  they  bring  to  him 
with  a  lighted  taper  held  beside  it  (which  must  be  eminently 
useful  in  broad  daylight) ;  and,  having  gone  through  many 


Digitized  by 


Google 


PBOCEB8IOK8  OF  THE  HOLY  WSSK.  179 

itiof««!xch  ceremoiries,  finally^  esrids  as  he^begam,  with  giving 
his  %e]iedietaB&  with  three  fingers,  ail  the  way  as  he  goes 
•eat. 

!Dfirmg  aH  the  time  of  this  high  mass,  the  Tope's  military 
bund,  stationed  on  the  platform  in  front  of  the  church, 
plsy^  so  many  clamorons  murtial  airs,  that  it  would  hare 
'dffeetually  put  to  Bight  any  ideas  of  religious  solemnity — ^if 
•anythere  had  been. 

The  Pope,  on  this  day,  gives  to  a  certain  number  of 
young  women  a  marriage-portion  of  fifky  crowns,  or  some- 
times more.  Such  of  them  as  choose  to  become  the  spouse 
of  heaven,  carry  it 'to  a  convent,  in  which  case  it  is  always 
a  IfErger  sum.  We  expected  to  have  seen  them  walk  in 
the  procession,  but  it  seems  the  practice  has  fallen  into 
Misuse,  and  they  did  not  appear ;  probably  because  the  Pope 
used  formerly  to  portion  from  one  to  two  hundred  young 
girls ;  but  now  that  his  finances  are  reduced,  the  number 
is  necessarily  more  limited.  We  heard  contradictory  ac- 
counts of  the  numbers  portioned  to-day ;  the  highest  state- 
ment was  between. seventy  and  eighty. 

This  exhibition  over,  we  had  lu(My  no  more  procesmons 
to  see  tiU  Palm  Sunday  came,  which,  at  half-past  eight 
o'clock,  beheld  us  seated  in  the  Sistine  Chapel,  where  we 
waited  a  fiill  hour  before  the  Pope  made  his  appearance. 
At  last  he  entered,  attired  in  a  robe  of  scarlet  and  gold, 
which  he  wore  over  his  ordinary  dress,  and  took  his  throne. 
The  Cardinals,  who  were  at  first  dressed  in  under-robes  of 
a  violet-colour,  (the  mourning  for  Cafrdinals,)  with  their 
rich  antique  lace,  scarlet  trains,  and  mantles  of  ermine, 
suddenly  got  quit  of  these  accoutrements,  and  arrayed 
themselves  in  most  splendid  vestments,  which  had  the 
appearance  of  being  made  of  carved  gold.  The  tedious 
ceremony  of  each  separately  kissing  the  Pope's  hand,  and 
mt^dng  their  three  little  bows,  being  gone  through,  and 
some  little  chanting  and  fidgeting  s^ut  the  altar  being 
got  over,  two  palm  branches,  of  beven  or  eight  feet  in 
length,  were  brought  to  the  Pope,  who,  after  raising  over 
them  a  cloud  of  incense,  bestowed  his  benediction  upon 
them.  Then  a  great  number  of  smaller  palms  were  brought, 
and  a  Cardinal,  who  acted  as  the  Pope's  aide-de-camp  on 

N  2 


Digitized  by 


Google 


180  BOHE. 

this  occasion,  presented  one  of  these  to  eyeiy  Cardinal  as 
he  ascended  the  steps  of  the  throne,  who  agaii^  kissed  the 
Pope's  hand  and  the  palm,  and  retired.  iSien  came  the 
Archbishops,  who  kissed  both  the  Pope's  hand  and  toe, 
followed  by  the  inferior  orders  of  clergy,  in  regular  grada- 
tions, who  only  kissed  the  toe,  as  they  carried  off  their  palms. 

The  higher  dignitaries  being  at  last  provided  with  palms, 
the  Deacons,  Canons,  Choristers,  Cardinals'  train-bearers, 
&c.,  had  each  to  receive  branches  of  olive,  to  which,  as  well 
as  to  the  palms,  a  small  cross  was  suspended.  At  last,  all 
were  ready  to  act  their  parts,  and  the  procession  was  drawn 
up  in  readiness  to  move.  It  began  with  the  lowest  in 
clerical  rank,  who  moved  off  two  by  two,  rising  gradually, 
till  they  came  to  Prelates,  Bishops,  Archbishops,  and  Car- 
dinals, and  terminated  by  the  Pope,  borne  in  his  chair  of 
state  (sedia  gestatoria)  on  men's  shoulders,  with  a  crimson 
canopy  over  ms  head.  By  far  the  most  striking  figures  in 
the  procession  were  the  Bishops  and  Patriarchs  of  the 
Armenian  church.  One  of  the  latter  wore  a  white  crown,  and 
another  a  crimson  crown  glittering  with  jewels.  The  mitres 
of  the  Armenian  Bishops  were  also  set  with  precious  stones ; 
and  their  splendid  dresses,  and  long  wavy  beards  of  silver 
whiteness,  gave  them  a  most  veneraMe  and  imposing  appear- 
ance. 

The  procession  issued  forth  into  the  Sala  Borgia  (the 
hall  behind  the  Sistine  Chapel,)  and  marched  round  it, 
forming  nearly  a  circle ;  for,  by  the  time  the  Pope  had  got 
out,  the  leaders  of  the  procession  had  nearly  got  back  again ; 
but  they  found  the  gates  of  the  chapel  closed  against  them, 
and  on  admittance  bein^  demanded,  a  voice  was  heard  from 
within,  in  deej)  recitative,  seemingly  inquiring  into  their 
business,  or  claims  for  entrance  there.  This  was  answered 
by  the  choristers  from  the  procession  in  the  hall ;  and  after 
a  chanted  parley  of  a  few  minutes,  the  gates  were  again 
opened,  and  the  Pope,  Cardinals,  and  Pnests  returned  to 
their  seats.  Then  the  Passion  was  chanted;  and  then  a 
most  tiresome  long  service  commenced,  in  which  the  usual 
genuflections,  and  tinkling  of  little  beUs,  and  dressings,  and 
undressings,  and  walking  up  and  coming  down  the  steps 
of  the  altar,  and  bustling  about,  went  on;  and  which  at 


Digitized  by 


Google 


PBOCESSIOKS  or  THE  HOLY  WEEK.  181 

last  terminated  in  the  Cardinals  aU  embracing  and  kissing 
eacK  other,  which  is,  I  am  told,  the  kiss  of  peace. 

You  must  be  nearly  as  tired  with  this  account  of  this  long 
jwmone  as  I  was  of  seeing  it,  and  it  is  quite  impossible  you 
can  be  more  so. 

The  procession  would  really  have  been  worth  seeing,  if 
it  had  teken  place  in  St.  Peter's  church  instead  of  this  con- 
fined little  chapel  and  hall,  in  which,  from  the  crowdinff  and 
squeezing,  the  fine  dresses  and  palin  branches,  and  aU  the 
pomp  of  the  pageant,  lost  their  effect. 

The  palms  are  artificial,  formed  of  straw  or  the  leaves  of 
dried  reeds,  plaited  so  as  to  resemble  the  real  branches  of 
the  palm-tree,  which  are  used  in  this  manner  for  this  cere- 
monv,  in  Boman  Catholic  colonies  in  tropical  climates.  These 
artificial  palms,  however,  are  topped  with  some  of  the  real 
leaves  of  the  palm-tree,  brought  fiom  the  shores  of  the  Gulf 
of  Genoa. 


Digitized  by 


Google 


182.  BOMK. 


LETTEE  LXXHL 

Thb  Holt  Week — The  Misebsbe — Holt  THimsDAX — 
Fbogebsioks  —  The  Interment  of  Chbist  —  S^epiil- 
CHBAL  Illuminations  op  the  Faolina  Chapel — Thbt 
Washino  op  Feet — The  Sebvino  at  Table — ^Tbb 
Penitenza  Maooiobe — The  Cboss  op  Fibe — The 
Adobation  bt  the  Fope  and  Cardinals — Th^  Belics 
— Illuminated  Sepulchbb  of  Chbist  at  San  Anto- 
nio de'  Fobtoghesi — CoNCEBT  OP  Sagbed  Music. 

We  enjoyed  three  days'  relaxation  from  the  toils  of  the 
Holy  "Week ;  foi^  we  did  not  go  to  see  the  body  of  St.  Joseph 
of  Arimathea  at  St.  Feter's  on  Tuesday,  wJbich  we  might 
have  done ;  but  on  "Wednesday  evening,  in  our  impatience 
to  secure  places  for  the  first  Miserere  in  the  Sistine  Chapel, 
we  went  at  three  o'clock,  and  sat  waiting  nearly  an  hour  and 
and  a  half,  before  the  service  commenced.  Even  at  that 
hour,  however,  the  gentlemen  had  difficulty  enough  in  find- 
ing standing  room,  so  great  was  the  pressure  in  the  confined 
space  allotted  to  them.  Many  were  unable  to  get  in  for 
want  of  room ;  and  many  were  turned  back,  for-  presenting 
themselves  in  boots  or  trowsers,  instead  of  silk  stockings; 
for  no  man  may  attend  this  service  of  religion  and  penitence 
imless  he  be  dressed  as  if  going  to  a  ball ;  and  if  he  has  and 
description  of  military  uniform,  it  is  highly  expedient  fcr 
him  to  wear  it. 

The  seats  for  the  ladies  ,are  at  the  lower  end  of  the  chapel, 
where  we  are  caged  up  behind  a  gilded  grate,  like  so  mapy 
wild  beasts ;  being  accounted  almost  as  mischievous  among 
Fopes  and  Cardinals.  "We  were  all  dressed,  according  to  his 
Holiness*8  taste,  in  black,  and  with  veils ;  and  I  am  told  we 
looked  like  a  sisterhood  of  nuns  through  the  gnCte. 


Digitized  by 


Google 


SEBYI0S8  IK  THE  SlflTIirE   CHAPEL.  }JS^ 

'  An'  el0yat^d  place,  called  the  Tribune^,  appropriated  foi^ 
kings,  anji  the  princes;  of.  rp^al  bloody  was  occupied  by  the^ 
old.  e£-Kiog  and  Queen  of  Spain,  Brince  Ilenrj  of  Prusaia^ 
the  Queen  and  young-  King  of  Etruria,  the  Puke  and] 
Puchesa  of  G:enoa,  the  Prince  Carignano,  the  young  heir  o£ 
Turin,  and  several  other  sprigs  of  fesh  budding,  or  blighted; 
iioyalty.  Behind  them  sat  the  foreign  ambas^^adors  dl  ini 
Qrrow. 

When  at  last  the  service,  which  the  Italians  call  thq 
Mcdtutino  deUe  Thtebre,  did  commence,  nothing  could  exceed 
Qiy  disappointment.  It  was  in  no  degree  superior  to  thet 
most  ordinary  chant  of  a  Catholic  church ;  and  finding  no-, 
thing  .in  it  to  occupy  me,  I  amused  myself  with  watching 
the  ill-concealed  drowsiness  of  many  of  the  Cardinalsi,  who, 
having  just  risen  from  dinner,  seemed  to  have  the  greatest- 
difficulty  in  refraining  from  taking  their  customary  siesta. 
Though  broad  day-light,  there  was  a  row  of  caudles  of 
ijjourning  wax  (of  a  &rk  brown,,  or  purple  colour)  ranged 
upon  the  top  of  our  grate,  the -utility  of  which  was  uot  veryj 
apparent,  as  they  were  extinguished  before  it  grew  dark. 
There  were  also  fifteen  similar  mourning  candles,  erected  on 
high  beside  the  altar,  which,  I  wag  given  to  understand,, 
represented  the  Apostles  and  the  three  Marys,  rising  gra- 
dually in  height  to  the  central  one,  which  was  the  Virgin* 
As  the  service  proceeded,  they  were  put  out  one  by  one,  to. 
typify  the  falling  oflf  of  the  Apostles  in  the  hour  of  insl ;  so 
that  at  last  they  were  all  extinguished,  except  the  Virgin 
Maiy,  who  was  set  under  the  altar. 

The  shadows  of  evening  had  now  closed  in,  and  we  should; 
have  been  lefc  almost  in  total  darkness,  but  for  the  dull  redi 
glare  which  proceeded  from  the  hidden  lights,  of  the  unseen 
choristers,  and  which,  mingling  with  the  aeepening  twilight,, 
produced  a  most  melancholy  gloom. 

After  a  deep  and  most  impressive  pause  of  siJeiiQe,  the 
solemn  Miserere  commenced ;  and  never  by  mortal  ear  wa» 
heard  a  strain  of  such  powerful,  suqh  heart-moving  pathos. 
The  accordant  tpneg  qf  a  hundred  human  voices — and  one- 
which  seemed.  i?iose  thp.n  human— ascended  together  tOi 
heaven  for  mercy  to  mankind — ^for  pardon  to  a  guilty  ani 
sinning  world,    it  hft4  Qothii:^  ift.it  pf  this,  earth— wthing 


Digitized  by 


Google 


184  BOME. 

that  breathed  the  ordinary  feelings  of  our  nature.  It  seemed 
as  if  every  sense  and  power  had  been  concentred  into  that 
plaintiye  expression  of  lamentation,  of  deep  suffering  and 
supplication,  which  possessed  the  soul.  It  was  the  straia 
that  disembodied  spirits  might  have  used  who  had  Just 
passed  the  boundanes  of  death,  and  sought  release  ^om 
the  mysterious  weight  of  woe  and  the  tremblings-  of  mortal 
agony  that  they  had  suffered  in  the  passage  of  the  grave. 
It  was  the  music  of  another  state  of  bemg. 

It  lasted  till  the  shadows  of  evening  leU  deeper,  and  the 
red  dusky  glare,  as  it  issued  stronger  from  the  concealed 
recess  wnence  the  singing  proceeded,  shed  a  partial  but 
strong  light  upon  the  figures  near  it. 

It  ceased — a  priest  with  a  light  moved  across  the  chapel, 
and  carried  a  book  to  the  officiating  Cardinal,  who  read  a 
few  words  in  an  awful  and  impressive  tone. 

Then,  again,  the  light  disappeared,  and  the  last,  the  most 
entrancing  harmony  arose,  in  a  strain  that  might  have  moved 
heaven  itself — a  deeper,  more  pathetic  sound  of  lamentation, 
than  mortal  voices  ever  breathed. 

Its  effects  upon  the  minds  of  those  who  heard  it,  was 
almost  too  powerful  to  be  borne,  and  neveiv-never  can  be 
forgotten.  One  gentleman  fainted,  and  was  carried  out; 
and  many  of  the  ladies  near  me  were  in  agitation  even  more 
distressing,  which  they  vainly  struggled  to  suppress. 

It  was  the  music  of  Allegri ;  but  the  composition,  however 
fine,  is  nothing  without  the  voices  who  penorm  it  here.  It 
is  only  the  singers  of  the  Papal  chapel  who  can  execute  the 
Miserere.  It  has  been  tried  by  the  best  singers  in  Ghsr- 
many,  and  totally  failed  of  effect. 

There  is  never  any  accompaniment,  though  at  times  the  i 
solemn  swell  of  the  softfened  organ  seemed  to  blend  with 
the  voices. 

This  music  is  more  wonderful,  and  its  effect  more  power- 
ful, than  any  thing  I  could  have  conceived. 

At  its  termination,  some  loud  strokes,  that  reverberated 
through  the  chapel,  and  are  intended,  I  was  told,  to  repre- 
sent the  veil  of  the  Temple  being  rent  in  twaiu,  closed  the 
service. 

With  Holy  Thursday  our  miseries  began.  . 


Digitized  by 


Google 


'  THE  HISEBEBE.  185 

On  tliis  disastrous  day  we  went  before  nine  to  the  Sistine 
Chapel — after  sitting  an  hour,  saw  the  Pope  enter — ^wit- 
nessed the  Cardinals'  kissiog  of  hands,  and  priests'  kissing 
of  toes,  as  usual — ^underwent  the  same  tiresome  repetition 
of  mass — and  beheld  a  procession,  led  by  the  inferior  orders 
of  clergy,  followed  up  Dy  the  Cardinals  in  superb  dresses, 
bearing  ion^  wax-tapers  in  their  hands,  and  ending  with  the 
Pope  himsdf,  who  walked  beneath  a  crimson  canopy,  with 
his  head  uncovered,  bearing  the  Host  in  a  box;  and  this 
being,  as  you  know,  the  reiu  flesh  and  blood  of  Christ,  was 
carried  from  the  Sistine  Chapel,  through  the  intermediate 
hall,  to  the  Paolina  Chapel,  where  it  was  deposited  in  the 
sepulchre  prepared  to  receive  it,  beneath  the  altar.  The 
ceremony  of  the  deposition  we  did  not  witness;  for  the 
moment  the  Pope  entered,  the  doors  of  the  chapel  were 
closed. 

I  never  yet  could  learn,  why  Christ  was  to  be  buried 
before  he  was  dead;  for,  as  the  <3ruciflxion  did  not  take 
place  till  Good  Friday,  it  seems  odd  to  inter  him  on  Thurs- 
day. His  body,  however,  is  laid  in  the  sepulchre,  in  all  the 
churches  of  Eome  in  which  this  rite  is  practised,  on  Thurs- 
day forenoon ;  and  it  remains  there  till  Saturday  at  mid-day, 
when,  for  some  reason  best  known  to  themselves,  he  is  sup- 
posed to  rise  from  the  grave,  amidst  the  firing  of  cannon, 
and  blowing, of  trumpets,  and  jingling  of  beUs — which  have 
been  carefiSly  tied  up  since  the  dawn  of  Holy  Thursday, 
lest  the  devil  should  get  into  them.  But  I  am  anticipating. 
The  moment  the  Pope  left  the  Paolina  Chapel,  the  gates 
were  thrown  open.  Nothing  could  exceed  the  brilliancy  of 
its  illumination,  which  lasted  as  long  as  the  body  lay  in  the 
tomb.  During  these  two  days  and  nights,  hundreds,  clad  in 
deep  mourning,  were  continually  kneeling,  in  silence  the 
most'  profound,  and  in  devotion  the  most  fervent,  aroimd 
the  illuminated  sepulchre  of  their  crucified  Eedeemer,  over 
which  they  wept  in  anguish  of  spirit.  I  have  entered  it  on 
tiptoe  again  and  again,  amidst  the  most  awful  silence,  and 
heard  no  sound  but  the  sigh  of  penitence. 

It  was  a  cruel  sight  to  see  these  thousands  of  sepulchral 
tapers  blackening  the  frescos  of  Michael  Angelo ;  and  yet  I 


Digitized  by 


Google 


JS6  BOHl. 

don't  know  liow  the^  can  reasonably  be  objected  to,,  aince  he 
himself  planned  their  arrangement. 

We  did.  not  wait  for  the  re-opening  of  the  chapel  at  pie^ 
sent,  nor  for  the  benediction  the  Pope  waa  a^rwards  to^ 
give  from  the  balcony  of  St.  Peter's,  knowing  it  would  be^ 
repeated  on  Sunday;  but  hurried  away  to  endeavour  td 
get  places  in  ihe  Sala  della  Lavatura^  to  see  the  washing; 
of  feet. 

It  was  not,  however,  till  after  great  exertions  on  the  paiii 
of  the  gentlemen  of  our  party,  and  afcer  being  nearly  pressed" 
to  death  in  the  most  terrible  squeeze  I  ever  encountered^, 
that  we  found  ourselves  in  the  hall,  which  was  already} 
crowded  almost  to  suffocation ;  and,  completely  exhau3teaj. 
and  scarcely  half  alive,  we  were  placed  upon  the  raised  stepa^ 
reserved  tor  ladies,,  exactly  opposite  to  the  pilgrims,  or  ratheir 
priests,  whose  feet  the  Pope  was  to  wash. 

The  ceremony  is  instituted  in  commemoration  of  our 
Saviour's  washing  the  feet  of  the  apostles ;  but  here  therQ 
were  thirteen  instead  of  twelve.  The  odd  one  is  the  repre*. 
sentative  of  the  angel  that  once  came  to  the  table  of  twelve 
that  St.  Gregory  was  serving ;  and  though  it  is  not  asserted 
that  the  said  angel  had  his  feet  washed^  or  indeed  did 
anything  but  eat,  yet  as  the  Pope  can  hardly  do  less  foi? 
him  than  the  rest^  he  shares  in  tne  ablution  as  well  as  th& 
repast. 

The  twelve  were  old  priests,  but  the  one  who  representect 
the  angel  was  very  young.  They  were  aU  drassed  in  loose 
white  gowns,  with  white  caps  on  .their  heads,  and  clean 
woollen  stockings,  and  were  seated  in  a  row  along  the  waJl^ 
nnder  a  canopy.  When  the  Pope  entered  and  took  his  seat 
at  the  top  of  the  room,  the  whole  company  of  them  knelt  in 
their  places,  turning  towards'  him ;  and  on  his  hand  being 
extended  in  benediction,  they  all  rose  again  and  reseated 
themselves. 

The  splendid  garments  of  the  Pope  were  then  takea 
off;  and,  clad  in  a. white  linen  robe  which,  he  had  on  un- 
der the  others,  and  wearinff  the  bishop's  mitre  instead  of 
the  tiara^  he  approached  the  pilgrims,  topfc  from  an.  at- 
tendant Cardinal.  %  silyec  bucki^  of  water«.  knelt  befco^ 


Digitized  by 


Google 


8EBTICES  01^  THE  HOLT  WESK.  187 

titfr  firat  of  iheiB^.  inrnteified  one  foot,  in  ikie  wa^r,  pui 
water  over  it  with  his  hand,  and  touched  it  with  a  squarO) 
firinged  cloth  -^  kissed  the  leg,  and  gave  the  cloth,  and  a 
sort  of  white  flower,  or  feather,  to  the.  man ;  then  went; 
on  to  the  next.  The  whole  ceremony  was  orer,.  I  think, 
in  less  than  two  minutes,  so  rapidly  was  this  aot  of  hu-< 
miUty  gone  through.  From  tnence  the  Pope  returned 
to  his  throne,,  put  on  his  robes  of  white  and  silver  again, 
and  proceeded  to  the  Sala  della  Tavola,  whither  we  fol- 
lowed, not  without  extreme  difficulty,  so  immense  waa 
the  crowd.  The  thirteen  priests  were  now  seated  in  a 
tow  at  the  table,  which  was  spread  with  a  variety  of  dishes,, 
and  adorned  with  a  profusion  of  flowers.  The  Pope  gave( 
the  blessing,  and,  walking  along  the  side  of  the  tables 
apposite  to  them,  handed  eaoh  of  them  bread,  then  plates, 
and,  lastly,  cups  of  wine.  They  regularly  all  rose  up  ta 
receive  what  ne  presented;  and  the  Pope  having  gone 
through  the  fbrms  of  service,  and  given  them  hia  parting 
benediction,  left  them  to  finish  their  dinner  in  peace. 
They  carry  away  what  they  cannot  eat,  and  receive  ai 
small  present  in  money  besides. 

The  ceremonies  of  this  morning,  which  we  were  nearly 
pressed  to  death  to  obtain  a  sight  of,  in  my  humble- 
opinion,  are  not  in  the  least  worth  seeing.  Those,  on 
the  contrary,  which  we  witnessed  in  the  evening,,  were, 
attended  with  no  difficulty,  and  were,  in  all  respects,, 
highly  interesting.  I  chiefly  allude  to  the  divine  Miserere 
ia  the  Sistine  Chapel,  which  was,  if  possible,  finer  than 
that  of  the  preceding  day.  Before  we  went  up  to  bean 
it,  (about  four  o'clock,)  we  stopped  at  St.  Peter-s.  to  see; 
the  Penitenza  Maggiore,  a  Carainal,  who  is  armed  with 
powers  to  give  absolution  for  crimes  which  no  other  priest 
can  absolve,  and  who  sits  on  the  evenings  of  Holy  Thurs- 
day, and  Good  Friday,  in  the  great  Confessional  of  St. 
Peter's. 

A  man  was  on  hisr  knees,  at  confession  when  we  were 
there,  whose  face,  of  course,  we  could  not  see.  The  Car- 
dinal had  unceasing  employment  in  touching  ^ith  his  long 
white  wand,  the  heads  of  those  who  knelt  before  him  for 
this  purpose,  and  who  thereby  receive  great  spiritual  be- 


Digitized  by 


Google 


188  BOMB. 

nefit.    Yesterday  he  sat  at  the  same  hour  in  the  Churct 
of  Santa  Maria  Maggiore. 

The  effect  of  the  blazing  cross  of  fire  suspended  from 
the  dome  above  the  Confession,  or  tomb  of  St.  Peter's, 
was  strikingly  brilliant  at  night,  when,  at  the  conclusion 
of  the  Miserere,  we  descended  iato  the  church,  whose  inoi^ 
mense  e^manse  was  thoroughly  illuminated  with  its  res- 
plendent Brightness.  The  Cross  is  covered  with  innumer- 
able lamps,  which  have  the  effect  of  one  blaze  of  fire. 
Though  eighteen  feet  in  length,  its  proportion  to  the  im- 
mensity of  St.  Peter's  is  so  small  that  it  looked  like  a 
minute  ornamental  cross,  such  as  a  lady  might  wear  round 
her  neck ;  and  its  dimiuutiveness  disappointed  us  all.  The 
whole  church  was  thronged  with  a  vast  multitude,  of  all 
classes  and  countries,  from  royalty  to  the  meanest  beggar, 
all  gazing  upon  this  one  object. 

m  a  few  minutes,  the  Pope  and  all  the  Cardinals  descended 
into  St.  Peter's,  and  room  being  kept  for  them  by  the  Swiss 
Ghiards,  the  aged  Pontiff,  whose  silver  hairs  shaded  his  pale 
and  resigned  head,  prostrated  himself  in  silent  adoration 
before  the  cross  of  fire.  A  long  train  of  Cardinals  knelt 
behind  him,  whose  splendid  robes  and  attendant  train-bearers 
formed  a  striking  contrast  to  the  humility  of  their  attitude. 
Three  abdicated  monarchs  knelt  beside  them, — ^the  aged 
King  of  Spain,  the  poor  blind  King  of  Sardinia,  in  the 
simple  garb  of  a  Jesuit,  and  the  King  of  Holland,  (Louis 
Buonaparte),  in  the  dress  of  the  plainest  citizen ;  the  young 
King  of  Etruria,  and  his  mother  Queen,*  and  many  reigning 
Princes  of  Germany  and  Italy,  bent  before  the  cross.  SSence 
the  most  profound  reigned,  while  those  whom  all  were  bound 
to  worship  upon  earth,  knelt  before  the  throne  of  Heaven. 
This  striking  scene  has  been  so  beautifrdly  described  by 
Madame  de  Stael,  that  I  will  not  attempt  to  give  you  any 
account  of  it.  She  justly  observes,  that  as  soon  as  the  act  of 
adoration  is  finished,  St.  Peter's  resembles  an  immense  cafe, 
in  which  the  people  perambulate,  apparently  thinking  of  any- 
thing but  religion.  The  effect  oi  the  fiery  cross  is  much 
diminished  by  the  distracting  lights  in  a  little  raised  gallery 

*  Created  Archduchess  of  the  once  happy  Republic  of  Lucca. 


Digitized  by 


Google 


SXP08ITI0K  OF  BELICS.  IW 

on  one  side  of  the  dome,  in  wMch  tlie  exposition  of  the  relics 
is  made.  These  chiefly  consist,  I  thinx,  of  a  piece  of  the 
true  cross  on  which  Christ  was  crucified,  incased  in  gold ;  a 
bit  of  the  spear  which  pierced  the  side ;  a  morsel  of  the 
sponge ;  and  the  volto  santo,  as  the  Italians  call  it,  or  '  the 
toie  unage'  of  the  face  of  our  Saviour  on  Santa  Veronica's 
handkerchief,  whose  statue,  flourishing  a  marble  pocket  hand- 
kerchief, stands  immediately  below.  Each  of  these  precious 
relics  were  brought  out  successively  by  a  priest,  who  carried 
it  iu  his  hands,  and,  followed  by  two  others  who  carried 
nothing,  walked  continually  to  and  fro  in  the  little  gaUery — 
much  as  I  have  seen  a  lion  exercise  himself  in  his  aen. 
Then  stopping  full  in  face  of  the  people,  he  presented  it  to 
their  view,  and  at  last  went  out  with  it  at  a  door  which 
opened  upon  the  gallery,  from  behind  the  scenes,  and  re- 
turned with  another. 

Leaving  St.  Peter's  we  drove  to  S.  Antonio  de'  Portoghesi, 
to  see  the  sepulchre  of  Christ.  The  open  portal  of  this 
small  but  beautiful  church  poured  forth  one  flood  of  light. 
The  walls,  columns,  shriues,  and  lateral  chapels,  which  are 
entirely  formed  of  the  most  beautiful  polished  marbles,  re- 
flected like  a  mirror  the  blaze  of  the  innumerable  tapers 
with  which  it  was  illuminated.  The  sepulchre,  which  was  in 
the  great  altar,  was  overpoweringly  resplendent.  The 
churdi,  though  crowded  with  people,  was  as  silent  as  the 
grave ;  not  a  whisper — ^not  a  footstep  was  to  be  heard.  AU, 
except  ourselves,  were  prostrate  on  the  ground  in  silent 
prayer;  and,  with  light  K>otsteps,  we  left  it  as  soon  and  as 
silently  as  we  could 

This  evening  we  attended  a  grand  Accadomia  of  sacred 
music,  in  the  house  of  an  Italian  lady.  Voices,  which  almost 
seemed  more  than  human,  sane,  iu  the  alternation  of  recitative, 
solo,  duet,  trio,  and  grand  cnorus,  a  succession  of  the  most 
original,  the  most  solemn,  the  most  astonishing  compositions 
that  mortal  genius  surely  ever  framed,  or  mortal  ear  ever 
heard.  It  was  music  which  resembled,  in  its  wonderful 
pathos  and  power  over  the  soul,  nothing  that  I  could  have 
conceived  this  world  to  have  produced.  Never  shall  I  forget 
the  divine  Miserere  with  which  it  concluded.  It  surpassed 
that  which  we  heard  at  the  Sistine  Chapel,  not  only  m  the 


Digitized  by 


Google 


199  BOMB. 

BUperioriiy  of  the  con^position,  but  in  havinff  full  tmS  ex- 
tremely hne  Accompauiments ;  whereas,  at  the  latter,  H^he 
fDTisic  is  iurariably  purely  YoeaH,  Out  of  Borne  no  sucfa 
music  is  to  he  heard ;  but  it  is  in  sacred  mufioe,  and  especiaUy 
in  this  branch  of  it,  that  the  Eomans  excel,  or  rather  the^ 
possess  it  exclusively. 


Digitized  by 


Google 


BXBTICBB  Olr  GOOD  FBIBAT.  Wl 


UBTPTEE  LXXTV. 
Good  FBrDAT— Thb  Tbb  Gee— The  Pilobims. 

Os  the  morning  of  Good  Fridajr,  we  resumed  our  weari- 
«ome  labours  by  going  to  the  Sistine  Chapel.  About  ten 
o'clock  the  Pope  appeared;  and  after  a  long  service,  the 
crucifix  over  the  altar,  which  had  been  covered  up  all  the 
week  with  a  violet  or  purple-coloured  cloth,  (the  mourning 
of  crosses  and  cardinals  here),  was  uncovered.  This  is 
called  the  Discovery  of  thp  Cross ;  and  then,  after  a  great 
deal  of  fuss  and  mummery,  it  is  laid  on  a  napkin  on  a  stand 
before  the  altar,  and  after  some  chanting,  and  much  loss  of 
time,  the  Pope  comes  to  it,  kneels  to  it,  prays,  or  seems  to 
pray,  over  it,  and  goes  away,  and  all  the  Cardinals  come  one 
by  one,  and  do  the  same.  And  this  is  called  the  Adoration  of 
tne  Cross.  Then  they  all  set  off  upon  the  usual  procession 
to  the  Paolina  Chapel ;  the  only  difference  being,  that  the 
Pope  walks  without  any  canopy  over  him,  and  uncovered. 
The  doors  of  the  Paolina  Chapel  were  closed  upon  them,  and 
what  they  did  there  I  don't  know;  only  I  understand  their 
business  was  to  take  up  the  Host  which  they  had  deposited 
in  the  sepulchre  yesterday.  Certain  it  is,  they  came  back 
just  as  they  went,  except  that  the  Pope  wore  his  mitre.  As 
soon  as  this  was  over,  without  waitmg  for  the  long  mass 
which  was  to  follow,  I  went  to  the  service  of  the  Tre  Ore, 
*  the  three  hours  of  agony'  of  Christ  upon  the  cross,  which 
lasts  from  twelve  to  three. 

It  is  a  complete  drama,  and  is  performed  in  seyeral 
churches.  I  attended  it  in  S.  Andrea  delle  Fratte,  which, 
before  I  arrived,  was  crowded  almost  to  suffocation;  but  a 
chair,  in  a  commodious  situation,  and  a  soldier  to  guard  it, 
had  been  kept  for  me  by  the  attention  of  the  priests,  who 
had  been  apprised  of  my  coming. 


Digitized  by 


Google 


182  Boia. 

The  upper  part  of  tHe  cliurcli  was  arranged  like  a  theatre, 
with  painted  trees,  and  pasteboard  rocks  and  thickets, 
representing  Mount  Calvaij.  A  little  way  down,  two 
Boman  centurions,  large  as  life,  dressed  in  xniutaiy  uniforms, 
and  mounted  on  pasteboard  horses,  were  flourishing  their 
pasteboard  swords.  Higher  up  on  the  mount,  on  three 
cruciflxes,  were  nailed  the  figiures  of  Christ  and  the  two 
thieves ;  so  correctly  imitating  life,  or  rather  death,  that  I 
took  it  for  wax-work. 

The  Eoman  Catholics  saj  that  Christ  spoke  seven  times 
upon  the  cross,*  and  that  at  every  saving  a  dagger  entered 
the  heart  of  the  Virgin,  who  is  tieretOTe  painted  with  seven 
daggers  sticking  in  her  breast,  and  adcHred  as  'Nostra  Signora 
de*  sette  dolori — Our  Lady  of  the  seven  sorrows.  - 

The  service  of  the  H'e  Ore,  is,  therefore,  divided  into 
seven  acts,  between  each  of  which  there  is  a  hvmn.  In  everv 
act,  one  of  the  seven  set  dissertations,  unon  the  sette  parole 
of  Christ,  is  read — or  begun  to  be  reaa — ^by  a  priest,  who 

foes  on  until  his  lecture  is  interrupted  by  the  preacher,  who 
reaks  in  upon  it  at  whatever  part  he  pleases  with  a  sermon 
(as  they  call  it)  or  rather  a  tirade,  of  nis  own,  which  seems 
to  be  extempore,  but  I  am  told  is  previously  learnt  by  rote. 

A  fat  Dominican  filled  the  pulpit  on  tms  occasion.  He 
opened  his  seven  sermons  by  a  preparatory  exhortation, 
iaviting  us  to  come  to  listen  to  the  last  accents  of  Christ,  to 
witness  his  dying  agonies,  &c. — ^in  these  words : 

^^Venite  ai  ascoltar  gli  uUimi  accenti  di  Ghsu.  Quanto 
sia  giusta  cosa  e  davuta,  che  i  Christiani  aceompaanino  U  hr* 
Bedentore  in  queste  ore  tenerissme  delV  agonia, '  &c. 

Then  he  said  it  was  our  ingratitude  which  caused  him 
these  tremendous  agonies. 

*  The  seven  sayings  of  Christ  are  as  follows : — 
Ist. — "  Father  I  forgive  them,  for  they  know  not  what  th^  do !" 
2nd.~(To  the  go^  thief.)     "To-day  thon  shalt  be  with  me  in 
Paradise." 
3rd.— (To  the  Virgin  Mary,)  )     "  Woman !  behold  thy  son ! 
(and  to  the  Apostle  John,)  f    "  Son  1  behold  thy  mother ! " 
4th.—"  My  God  1  my  God !  why  hast  thon  forsaken  me ! " 
5th.—"  I  thirst." 

6th.—"  It  is  finished  \"    {Coruummatum  est !) 
7th.—"  Father  1  into  thy  hands  I  commend  my  spirit  1 " 


Digitized  by 


Google 


ITALIAlSr  FUBACHOTG.  198 

"  Ghtardatelb  hene,  O  Jnime!  (a  term  of  great  abuse)  e  la 
vostra  ingratitudvne  che  gli  camona  quelle  tremende  aganie  di 
morte.  Quardelo  bene  su  quetla  eroce;  tutto  da  capo  a  piedi 
fatto  una  piaga,  le  spalle  e  tutto  U  corpo  lacerati  dai  Jlagelli, 
U  petto  snervato  daUe  percosse,  il  cc^  trapasstUo  orrihil- 
mente  dalle  spines  i  eapelU  strappati,  la  harba  schimtata,  U 
volto  ferito  dalle  gtumciate,  le  vene  vuote  di  sangue,  la  hocca 
inaridata  dalla  sete,  la  lingua  amareggiata  dal  fiele  e  dalV 
aceto,  le  mani  e  piedi  trivellaU  e  trafitti  da  fieri  chiodi,  e 
questi  squard  inaspriti  anehe  piu  dal  peso  del  sua  medesimo 
oorpo,'^*  &c.  Ac.  &c. 

Then  he  burst  forth  into  a  string  of  apostrophes  to  Christ 
on  the  cross,  being  an  incessant  r^etition  of  interjections 
and  vocatives,  interlarded  with  a  few  metaphors,  most  of 
which  I  hold  to  be  perfectly  untranskteable.  The  following, 
which  I  took  down  verbatim  from  his  mouth,  were  utter^ 
without  the  smallest  interruption  or  pause : — "  O  mio  Q^su  / 
O  Ghsu  amorosigsvmo !  O  Fratello  Qesu!  Fratelh  amoro- 
sissimo  !  O  Oesu  del  mio  cuore  !  O  amaratissimo  mio  Q-esu  I 
O  &e9u  affiitto  !  O  Q-esu  coronato  da  spine  !  O  Oesu  caro  ! 
O  Oesu  mio  !  O  Oesu  dohissimo  !  O  Oesu  dohrosissimo  ! 
O  Oesu  henignissimo !  O  amcmtissimo  nostro  O^su!  U  cm 
incendio  amoroso  non  poterono  estinguere  le  acque  di  tanti 
crudelta  e  trihulazione  /  That  is  to  say,  "  0  my  Jesus !  O 
most  beloved  Jesus!  0  brother  Jesus!  Most  beloved 
brother !  O  Jesus  of  my  heart !  O  most  suffering  Jesus ! 
O  Jesus  afflicted !  O  Jesus  crowned  with  thorns !  O  dear 
Jesus!  O  my  Jesus!  O  most  sweet  Jesus!  O  most 
sorrowful  Jesus!  0  most  benign  Jesus!  O  our  most 
beloved  Jesus !  whose  burning  love  the  waters  of  so  much 
cruelty  and  tribulation  could  not  extinguish !" 

Then  he  reviled  us  all,  under  every  sort  of  vituperative 
epithet,  in  which  Mtmdani  !    Anime  !    Feecatori  insensihili! 

*  "  Look  at  him  upon  that  cross — ^from  head  to  foot  one  entire  wound 
— his  shoulders,  and  aU  his  body  lacerated  with  soouiigeB,  Ms  breast 
braised  with  blows,  his  head  torn  cruelly  with  thorns,  Ms  hair  pulled 
away  by  the  roots,  his  beard  savagely  plucked  out,  his  £Ace  battered 
with  blows,  his  veins  devoid  of  blood,  his  mouth  dried  up  with  thirst, 
his  ton^e  embittered  with  gall  and  vinegar,  his  feet  and  hands 
wrenched  round  and  transfixed  with  strong  nails,  and  the  torture  of  his 
broken  legs  aggravated  by  the  weight  of  his  body,"  &;c.  &;c. 

VOL.  II.  O 


Digitized  by 


Google 


194  BOMX. 

jPeceatari  viP  e  gparohiuimi!  were  the  best  tHat  fell  to  our 
share,  and  reproached  ub  bitterly  because  we  did  not  die 
with  grief  at  the  sight  of  the  suffermgs  of  our  Bedeemer,  as 
the  MdrHriy  ConfeMori,  and  PemtetiH  of  old  had  done — ^Who 
"morirono  per  impuUo  d*un  fervido  voHro  amore,  J^tm 
amore  inespUcabUe  mori  Mana  vostre  Madrey  d^tm  amore 
vivissmo  mori  la  cara  vosira  Maddalena  e  la  vottra  Sposa 

Caterina,  Mmam*  dtmque,  Anime!  Mmam*  d^amoreT'* 
Howeyer,  we  did  not  die,  and  he  reviled  us  worse  than  ever. 
*^  La  vostra  amma  rascolta,  e  si  rimane  insensibile,  eieca, 
sorda,  e  mtUa,  Vede  morire  il  suo  IHo,  e  non  sotpira,  non 
piofwe  I    Fercke  non  muore  quando  muore  egli  /" f  <Sx^*  ^* 

J^fay,  he  once  called  us  stones,  (pietrij  and  he  not  only 
abused  men,  but  aaseh — ^not  only  €»rth,  but  heayen — ^which, 
under  the  name  of  ^^Ingrato  Vielo!"  he  reproached  with 
being  unworthy  of  him,  and  adjured  to  pnze  him  as  it 
ought. 

When  he  reviled  us  for  disobedience  to  the  Ordinances  of 
Holy  Church,  through  the  gates  of  which,  he  said,  were  the 
only  ^ths  to  salvation,  and  depicted  to  us  the  flames  of  hell, 
in  wmch,  he  informed  us,  we  should  be  consumed,  if  we  did 
not  implicitly  follow  her  icommands;  and  more  than  all — 
when  I  heara  him  abuse  us  for  not  sufficiently  mortifying 
the  flesh,  and  looked  on  his  own  surprising  fatness — I  own  I 
could  not  restrain  a  snule. 

^  During  his  last  discourse,  which,  in  vehement  emphasis, 
ejaculation,  and  gesticulation,  far  exceeded  the  six  preceding 
ones,  he  continually  importuned  Christ  for  one  sign,  one 
look — "Da  mi  tmo  sguardoT^  &c.;  at  last  he  said  he  had 
given  him  one  look  full  of  mercy — "  wno  sguardo  pieno  di 
carita!^* — ^and  he  asked  for  another — "«wo  sgua/rdo  aneoray 
wC  altro  sguardo — O  Gesu  mioP*  &c.  &c.  At  length  the 
discourse  was  drawn  out  to  the  right  instant  of  time — ^the 
three  hours  were  expiring — "JScco  il  momenta  T*  he  cried, 

*  "  YTho  died  through  the  impulse  of  a  fervid  love  for  you,  (Christ,) 
of  an  inexplicable  lore  died  Maiy,  your  mother ;  of  a  most  Uvely  love 
died  your  dear  Magdalen ;  and  your  wife  Catherine  (of  Siena).  Let  us 
die  then,  wretches  as  we  are  f    Let  us  die  of  love." 

f  **  Your  souls  remain  insensible,  bUnd,  deaf,  and  dumb.  Yon  see 
your  God  die,  and  do  not  sigh  nor  weep.  Why  do  you  not  die  when  he 
diesl"  &C. 


Digitized  by 


Google 


VSTOWiUtST  07  OHBIST.  195 

and  everybody  sunk  prostrate  on  the  ground  in  tears ; — ^and 
iaobs,  and  groans,  and  cries,  and  one  loud  burst  of  agony 
Med  the  church — "  Uceo  il  momento  !  Qia  spira  Oesu  Cris" 
to! — Qia  muore  il  nostro  Bedentore! — Qihjinisce  di  vivere 
il  nostro  Fadre  !  "  • 

I  believe  mine  was  almost  the  onlv  dry  eye  in  the  church, 
excepting  the  priest's.  The  sobs  oi  the  soldier,  who  leaned 
on  his  firelock  behind  my  chair,  made  me  look  round,  and  I 
saw  the  big  tears  rolling  down  his  rugged  cheeks. 

From  this  time  I  took  no  more  notes,  and  therefore  will 
not  pretend  to  give  you  any  more  quotations  from  the  good 
father's  discourse,  which  he  continued  to  pour  forth  with 
still  increasing  vehemence,  both  of  words  and  action,  in  a 
strain  of  eloquence  certainly  of  a  kind  well  calculated  to  pro- 
duce the  effect  he  intended^  that  of  moving  the  passions  of 
his  hearers. 

At  length  the  preacher  cried,  "  Here  they  come — ^the  holy 
men — ^to  bear  the  body  of  our  Bedeemer  to  the  sepulchre; 
and  from  the  side  of  the  scene  issued  forth  a  bana  of  friars, 
clad  in  black,  with  white  scarfs  tied  across  them,  and  gradu- 
ally climbing  Mount  Calvary  by  a  winding  path  amongst  the 
rocks  and  bushes,  exactly  like  a  scene  upon  the  stage,  rea^^hed 
the  foot  of  the  cross,  unmolested  by  the  paper  centurions. 
But  when  they  began  to  unnail  the  body,  it  is  utterly  im- 
possible to  describe  the  shrieks,  and  cries,  and  clamours  of 
grief,  that  burst  from  the  people.  At  the  unloosening  of 
every  nail,  they  were  renewed  with  fresh  vehemence,  and  the 
Sobs  and  tears  of  the  men  were  almost  as  copious  as  those  of 
the  women. 

Five  prayers,  separately  addressed  to  the  five  wounds  of 
Chriflt — ^first,  the  woimd  on  the  left  foot,  then  that  of  the 
right  foot,  and  so  of  the  two  hands,  and,  lastly,  of  the  side, 
were  next  repeated.  They  were  nearly  the  same,  and  all 
began,  "  Vi  adoro  piaga  santiasimaJ'^ — ("  I  adore  you,  most 
hofy  wound.") 

The  body  of  Christ  being  laid  on  a  bier,  decked  with 

artificial  flowers,  and  covered  with  a  transparent  veil,  was 

I        brought  down  Mount  Calvary  by  the  holy  men, — as  the 

I  *  "  The  moment  is  come !    Now  Jesus  Christ  expires !    Now  our 

Bedeemer  dies  I    Now  our  Father  ceases  to  live ! " 

o  2 

Digitized  by  LjOOQ IC 


196  BOU. 

preacher  called  them, — who  deposited  it  on  the  fix>iit  of '  tlie 
stage,  where  all  the  people  thronged  to  kiss  the  toe  through 
the  veil,  and  weep  oyer  it.  I  was  conducted  round  to  it,  alomg 
with  some  Italian  ladies  of  m^  acquamtance,  through :..« 
private  passage,  bj  one  of  the  civil  priests,  and  so  e^^oftd 
the  crowd.  Upon  dose  inspection,  I  found  that  the  bo4^ 
was  made  of  pasteboard,  extremely  wdl  painted  for  effect; 
it  had  real  hair  on  the  head,  and  it  was  so  well  executecL, 
that  even  when  closely  viewed,  it  was  marked  with  the  agony 
of  nature,  and  seemed  to  have  recently  expired. 

The  congregation  consisted  of  all  ranks,  irom  the  prince 
to  the  beggar,  but  there  was  a  preponderance  of  the  nigher 
classes.  Some  ladies  of  the  first  rank  in  Borne  were  besi^ 
me,  and  they  were  in  agitation  the  most  excessive. 

You  may  depend  upon  the  accuracy  of  the  quotations  I 
have  given  you  from  the  good  friar's  harangues ;  and  they 
may  enable  you  to  form  some  idea  of  the  strain  of  pulpit 
oratory  here.  I  took  them  down  from  the  preacher*s  mou&, 
while  apparently  I  was  occupied  with  my  prayer-book,  aad 
I  believe  my  employment  was  undi8C0v^*ea,  except  by  tifee 
soldier  at  my  back. 

After  the  last  Miserere  of  the  week  at  the  Sistine  Chapel 
this  evening,  which  I  thought  scarcely  equal  to  that  of 
yesterday,  we  stopped  in  St.  Peter's  only  to  give  a  last 
glance  to  the  cross  of  fire;  and  without  waitmg  for  its 
second  adoration  by  the  Pope  and  Cardinab,  we  drove  to 
the  Hospital  of  the  OMmta  de  JPellegrini,  where  poor  pil- 
grims of  all  nations  are  gratuitously  lodged  and  fed  for  three 
days,  during  the  Holy  Week.  This  immense  building  has 
sufficient  accommodation  for  five  thousand  pilgrims,  and  is 
frequently  fuU.  On  the  evening  of  Holy  Thursday  and 
Good  Pnday,  many  of  the  Cardinals,  and  Koman  nobilitv  of 
both  sexes,  may  be  seen  here,  washing  the  pilgrims'  &et, 
and  afterwards  waiting  upon  them  at  supper  like  servants. 
In  the  female  apartments  above  stairs,  we  saw  some  of  the 
loveliest  of  the  IU)man  prmci^esse  on  their  knees,  washioj?, 
with  their  own  fair  hands,  the  dirty  feet  of  the  female  pu- 
grims — ^while  the  old  Cardinals  below  were  performing  the 
same  menial  offices  to  the  men.  They  do  not,  like  the  Pope, 
ii^jsi^lj  go  through  the  form  of  it,  but  really  and  truly  wash 


Digitized  by 


Google 


Digitized  by 


Google 


L 


Digitized  by 


Google 


WASHUra  TliE  PILaSIMB*  RET.  197 

tbeir  dirhr  feet — as  we  can  testify ; — ^for  although  females 
are  not  allowed  to  enter  the  wards  of  the  male  pflgrims,  jet 
being  curious  to  see  how  the  old  Cardinals  looked,  we  ob- 
tained permission  to  peep  in,  and  found  them  scrubbing 
away  in  good  earnest,  cleansing,  I  suppose,  at  once,  the 
pilgrims'  feet,  and  their  own  soms.  It  was  easy  to  see  how 
proud  they  were  of  this  act  of  humility. 

A  Mend  of  ours  tins  evening  attended  a  pious  exercise  of 
a  different  sort,  at  a  small  church  or  oratorio,  the  name  of 
which  I  have  forgotten,  but  belonging,  I  think,  to  the  PP. 
Caravita.  Almost  aU.  present  were  clad  as  penitents,  their 
whole  figures — even  their  heads  and  faces, — completely  co- 
vered with  coarse  dark  cloth,  and  holes  cut  for  their  eyes. 
The  doors  of  the  church  were  shut,  and  after  a  suitable 
exhortation  firom  a  &iar,  scourges  were  distributed,  the  lights 
were  extinguished,  and  in  total  darkness  the  flagellation 
began,  which  continued  for  twenty  minutes, — while  a  dismal 
sort  of  chanted  music,  like  the  wailings  of  suffering  souls, 
was  sung.  The  candles  were  then  relighted,  and  all  de- 
parted in  peace. 

The  shops  of  all  the  pizzicaruoli, — ^the  cheesemongers, 
sausage-defers,  &c. — are  to-night  most  brilliantly  illumi- 
nated. It  is  the  general  custom  they  say,  but  I  cannot 
learn  the  reason. 


Digitized  by 


Google 


198  BOMS. 


LETTEELXXV. 

SATtTKDAT — ^BaFTISH    OF    THE    JBWft— Ak   OKDHTATIOir — 

Tkb  Bestjbbectiok — ^BLSBsnra  the  Houses — GomfES- 

SIOK  Ain>   OO^SMTTSIO'S. 

We  were  sillj  enougli  to  get  up  this  morning  before  six 
o'clock,  to  see  some  Jews  baptized  at  St.  John's  Lateran. 
A  couple  of  these  unfortunate  Israelites,  and  sometimes 
more,  are  always  procured  on  this  day,  every  year,  for  this 
purpose.  Turks  are  preferred  when  they  are  to  be  had, 
but  they  are  rare.  The  Jews,  I  understand,  are  at  present 
very  dear ;  no  less  weighty  arguments  than  eighlr  Itoman 
crowns  each,  I  heard,  were  necessary  to  convince  these  new 
proselytes  of  the  Isruth  of  Christianity.  Besides  these 
golden  reasons,  I  am  assured  that  no  sooner  does  a  Jew 
see  the  error  of  his  ways  than  his  debts  towards  his  brother 
Jews  are  cancelled ;  so  that,  as  soon  as  he  becomes  a  Chris- 
tian, he  is  at  liberty  to  be  a  rogue ;  and  if  the  wife  of  a 
converted  Jew  refuses  to  embrace  Christianity,  he  is  held 
to  be  divorced  from  her,  and  may  marry  another.  Con- 
siderinff  this,  it  really  says  a  great  deal  for  them,  that  there 
are  so  few  converts.  It  is  even  hinted,  that  there  are  fewer 
converts  than  baptisms;  and  that  the  baptismal  rite  is 
sometimes  performed  upon  the  same  neophytes. 

The  two  devoted  Israelites  prepared  iot  this  occasion, 
attired  in  dirty  yeUow  silk  gowns,  were  seated  on  a  bench 
within  the  marble  font  of  the  Baptistry,  which  resembles  a 
large  bath,  both  in  form  and  shape,  and,  in  iauct,  was  used 
as  such  in  primitive  times,  when  baptism  was  performed  by 
complete  submersion.  The  font  itself  was  empty,  but  the 
ancient  vase  at  the  bottom  of  it,  in  which,  according  to  an 
absurd  legend,  Constantino  was  healed  of  his  leprosy  by 
St.  Sylvester,  stood  before  them  filled  with  water,  and  its 


Digitized  by 


Google 


BAPTISH  0¥  JEWS.  190 

margin  adorned  with  flowers.  The  unhappy  Israelites,  with 
most  rueM  countenances,  were  conning  tneir  prayers  out 
of  a  book,  while,  close  to  their  sides,  stuck  their  destined 
godfathers, — ^two  black-robed  Doctors  of  divinity, — ^as  if  to 
guard  and  secure  their  spiritual  captives. 

The  Cardinal  Bishop,  who  had  been  employed  ever  since 
81X  o'clock  in  the  benediction  of  Are,  water,  oil,  wax,  and 
flowers,  now  appeared,  followed  by  a  long  procession  of 
priests  and  crudnxes.  He  descended  into  the  font,  repeated 
a  great  many  prayers  in  Latin  over  the  water,  occasionally 
dipping  his  hand  into  it.  Then  a  huge  flaming  wax  taper, 
about  six  feet  hi?h,  and  of  proportionate  thickness,  painted 
with  images  of  the  Yirgin  and  Christ,  which  had  previously 
been  blessed,  was  set  upright  in  the  vase;  more  Latin 
prayers  were  mumbled,  one  of  the  Jews  was  brought,  the 
Bishop  cut  the  sign  of  the  cross  in  the  hair  at  the  crown 
of  his  head,  then,  with  a  silver  ladle,  poured  some  of  the 
water  upon  the  part,  baptizing  him  in  the  usual  forms,  both 
the  god£skthers  and  he  having  agreed  to  all  that  was  required 
of  them.  The  second  Jew  was  brought,  upon  whom  the 
same  ceremonies  were  performed;  this  poor  little  fellow 
wore  a  wig,  and  when  the  cold  water  was  poured  on  his 
bare  skull,  he  winced  exceedingly,  and  made  many  wry 
faces.  They  were  then  conveyed  to  the  altar  of  the  neigh- 
bouring chapel,  where  they  were  confirmed,  and  repeated 
the  Creed.  The  Bishop  then  made  the  sign  of  the  cross 
upon  their  foreheads  with  holy  oil,  over  which  white  fillets 
-were  immediately  tied  to  secure  it.  Then  the  Bishop  ad- 
dressed a  long  exhortation  to  them,  in  the  course  of  which 
he  told  them,  that  having  now  aWured  their  *  ridicola  super- 
stizione,'  and  embraced  the  true  mith,  unless  they  continued 
in  their  hearts  good  Christians  without  wavering,  they 
would  bring  upon  themselves  greater  damnation,  and  be 
thrown  into  the  lowest  pit  of  neU-fire;  nay,  if  they  ever 
entertained  a  single  Jewisn  thought,  or  felt  the  least  hank- 
ering after  their  abominable  idolatries,  (there,  I  think,  the 
Jews  might  have  retorted  the  charge,)  nothing  could  save 
them  from  this  doom.  He  frightened  them  so,  that  the 
little  Jew  with  a  wig  began  to  cry  most  bitterly,  and  could 
not  be  comforted.    This  being  over,  the  Jews  were  con- 


Digitized  by 


Google 


200  aoxB. 

ducted  with  great  oeremonj  from  the  Baptistry  to  the  door 
of  the  churcl^  where  they  stopped,  and  it  was  not  till  after 


much  chanting  by  the  JBishop  that  it  seemed  settled  they 
should  pass  the  threshold.  Accordingly  this  was  effected, 
and  they  were  seated  within  the  yery  pale  of  the  altar, 
where  they  had  to  witness  such  a  tedious  succession  of 
foolish  ceremonies,  that  I  marvel  much  they  did  not  repent 
them  of  their  conversion.  It  was  an  ordiimtion  of  pnests 
of  all  kinds  and  degrees,  which  lasted  nearly  fiye  nours; 
and  though  we  had  nothing  to  do  with  it,  deluded  by  the 
fallacious  promise  of  some  fine  music,  which  never  came, 
we  were  foolish  enough  to  stay  till  the  end.  The  Bishop, 
disrobed,  and  in  his  Hnen  tunic,  his  golden  mitre  ex- 
changed for  one  set  with  precious  stones,  threw  himself 
pros^te  on  the  steps  of  the  altar,  with  his  face  and  arms 
extended  on  the  ground,  and  all  the  priests  who  were  to 
be  ordained  fell  na,t  on  the  floor  behmd  him  in  the  same 
posture.  In  about  a  minute  the  Bishop  got  up,  said  a  few 
unintelligible  words,  and  threw  himself  down  again.  Then 
up  they  all  got,  and  after  much  fidgetting  up  and  down,  and 
moving  about,  and  chanting  in  their  usual  drawl,  the  Bishop 
took  a  pair  of  scissors,  invested  several  little  boys  with  the 
tonsure,  by  cutting  a  round  piece  of  hair  out  of  the  crowns 
of  their  heads,  and  then,  after  much  ado,  he  put  the  little 
white  shirts  over  their  heads,  and  made  priestlings  of  them. 
Poor  little  things,  some  of  them  did  not  seem  to  be  more 
than  ten  years  old.  I  was  glad  to  hear  they  might,  after 
this,  leave  the  priesthood  if  they  chose  it.  Then  a  batch 
of  deacons  (irrevocable  priests)  were  ordained;  but  these 
cannot  yet  perform  high  mass,  nor  give  extreme  unction 
nor  absolution,  nor  perform  any  of  those  higher  functions 
of  the  church.  It  was  a  terrible  time  before  their  dressing 
was  completed.  Then  a  number  of  deacons  were  created 
priests,  and  their  fore-finger  and  thumb  were  anointed  with 
holy  oil,  that  they  might  elevate  the  Host ;  and  between 
every  time  of  using  this  holy  oil,  the  Bishop  always  rubbed 
his  hands  with  lemon.  But  mortal  patience  would  fail 
under  the  recital  of  the  endless  little  wearisome  ceremonies 
that  were  gone  through — the  dressings  and  undressings, 
the  pulling  off  and  the  putting  on  of  mitres  and  robes,  uie 


Digitized  by 


Google 


OBDrETATIOir  OT  PBIESTS.  201 

.gettings  up  and  sittings  down,  tKe  bowings  and  scraping, 
the  hair-cuttings,  the  anointings,  the  chantings,  and  the 
mummery  of  all  kinds,  that  filled  up  these  five  mis-spent 
hours. 

At  twelve  o'clock  we  left  the  church  aJong  with  the  Car- 
dinal Bishop,  who  ended  the  ordination  by  carrying  out  the 
cup,  followed  by  all  the  new-made  priests  and  priestUngs. 
At  the  same  moment  the  resurrection  was  announced  by 
much  '  tintionabular  uproar,'  as  a  witty  friend  of  ours  called 
it ;  and  certainly  the  larum  was  astoimding.  The  bells  of 
every  church  in  Eome,  (and  there  are  upwards  of  three 
hundred,)  began  to  jingle  at  once,  the  cannon  from  the 
Castle  of  St.  Angelo  to  fire,  and  at  the  Church  of  Santa 
Maria  Egyzziaca,  the  blowing  of  horns  and  trumpets,  the 
clang  of  kettle-drums,  and  every  species  of  tumult,  pro- 
claimed the  sacred  event  to  the  world. 

During  the  days  in  which  the  bells  are  tied  up — ^from 
Holy  Thursday  to  Saturday  at  noon, — the  hours  on  which 
they  are  usually  rung  for  prayers,  viz.,  six  in  the  morning, 
three  in  the  afternoon,  and  the  Ave  Maria,  which  is  imme- 
diately after  sunset,  are  announced  by  a  little  wooden 
machme,  called  tric-trac,  making  a  sound  similar  to  its 
name,  but  very  noisy,  with  which  some  of  the  inferior  clergy 
run  about  the  churches  at  the  proper  times.  Though  the 
resurrection  takes  place  on  Saturday  at  noon,  the  fast  is 
not  over  till  midnight,  at  which  time  most  good  Catholics 
eat  areisso, — ^that  is,  an  enormous  supper  of  fish,  flesh,  and 
fowl.  A  total  abstinence  from  food  during  the  two  previous 
days  is  still  practised  by  many,  but  the  feasting  is  now  more 
universal  than  the  fasting. 

The  priests  are  very  actively  emplojred  at  Easter  in  run- 
ning in  and  out  of  every  house,  blessing  it  with  holy  water. 
I  could  not  think  what  one  of  them  was  about  whom  I 
encountered  on  the  stairs,  dabbling  away  with  a  little  brush; 
when  explained,  I  found  the  rest  of  the  house  had  been 
sprinkled,  but  that  the  Conte,  our  noble  landlord,  had  not 
ventured  to  introduce  the  holy  water  into  our  appartamento^ 
thinldng  such  an  ablution  would  not  be  at  all  to  our  here- 
tical taste;  but  I  begged  the  good  father  to  return  and 
besprinkle  our  rooms  to  his  full  satisfaction,  assuring  him 


Digitized  by 


Google 


202  xom. 

I  Bhonld  be  sony  to  depriye  them  of  sach  an  advantage^ 
at  which,  and  the  sight  of  a  piece  of  monej,  he  kughed  most 
heartily. 

Every  Italian  must  at  this  time  confess,  and  receive  the 
oommunion ;  it  is  compulsory.  A  Mend  of  ours,  who  has 
lived  a  great  deal  in  foreign  countries,  and  there  imbibed 
very  heterodox  notions,  and  who  has  never  to  us  made 
any  secret  of  his  confirmed  unbelief  of  Boman-catholic 
doctrines,  went  to-day  to  confession  with  the  strongest 
repugnance. 

"  What  can  I  do?"  he  said.  "  K  I  neglect  it,  I  am  re- 
primanded  by  the  parish  priest ;  if  I  dela^  it,  my  name  is 
posted  up  in  the  parish  church ;  if  I  persist  in  my  contu- 
macy, the  arm  of  tne  church  will  overtake  me,  and  my  rank 
and  fortune  only  serve  to  make  me  more  obnoxious  to  its 
power.  If  I  chose  to  make  myself  a  martyr  to  infidelity, 
as  the  saints  of  old  did  to  religion,  and  to  suffer  the  extre- 
mity of  punishment  in  the  loss  of  property  and  personal 
lights,  what  is  to  become  of  my  wife  and  family  P  The 
same  ruin  would  overtake  them,  though  they  are  Eoman 
Catholics;  for  I  am  obliged  not  only  to  conceal  my  true 
belief,  and  profess  what  I  depise,  but  I  must  bring  up  my 
children  in  their  abominable  idolatries  and  superstition ;  or, 
if  I  teach  them  the  truth,  make  them  either  hypocrites  or 
beggars."  I  shall  not  enter  into  the  soundness  of  my  friend's 
arguments,  or  defend  the  rectitude  of  his  conduct,  but  cer- 
tainly the  alternative  is  a  hard  one;  and  I  believe  there  are 
thousands  whose  virtue  would  not  be  proof  against  it ;  for 
this  reason,  he  would  not  live  a  day  in  Italy  if  he  could  live 
out  of  it,  which  is  not  in  his  power. 


Digitized  by 


Google 


SASTEB  BUITDAT.  203 


LETTER  LXXVI. 
Easteb  SinrDAT— The  BsinsBiOTioifr. 

The  grandest  Eoman-catholic  festival  of  the  year  is 
Saster  Sunday,  which  was  doubly  welcome  to  us,  because 
the  last  of  the  holy  shows  of  this  exhausting  season.  On 
this  day  the  church  puts  forth  all  her  pomp  and  splendour. 
The  Pope  assists  at  nigh  mass,  or,  as  the  priests  have  it, — »7 
tommo  FotUefice  canta  Messa  solen/nemente  in  8,  Fietro^— 
and  there  is  a  procession,  which,  as  it  is  seen  to  the  highest 
advantage  in  that  noble  church,  is  as  grand  as  any  such  pro- 
cession can  be.  A  pen  was  Erected  for  us  ladies  in  the  left 
of  the  high  altar,  for  wherever  the  Pope  comes  we  are  always 
cooped  up,  for  fear  of  accidents.  Luckily,  however,  it  was 
unprovided  with  a  grate,  so  that  we  could  see  to  perfection. 
It  was,  in  all  respects,  a  happy  liberation  from  the  gloomy 
imprisonment  we  had  been  sustaining  day  after  day,  in  the 
Sistine  Chapel.  The  sable  robes  of  the  past  week  were  uni- 
versally thrown  aside,  and  the  gayer — ^the  more  catholically 
orthodox — ^were  we. 

The  church  was  lined  with  the  Guarda  Nobile  in  their 
splendid  uniforms  of  gold  and  scarlet,  and  nodding  plumes  of 
white  ostrich  feathers;  and  the  Swiss  guards,  with  their 
polished  cuirasses  and  steel  helmets.  The  great  centre  aisle 
was  kept  clear  by  a  double  wall  of  aimed  men,  for  the  grand 
procession,  the  approach  of  which,  after  much  expectation, 
was  proclaimed  by  the  sound  of  a  trumpet  from  the  farther 
end  of  the  church.  A  long  band  of  priests  advanced,  loaded 
with  still  augmenting  magnificence,  as  they  ascended  to  the 
higher  orders.  Cloth-of-gold,  and  embroidery  of  gold  and 
silver,  and  crimson  velvet,  and  mantles  of  spotted  ermine, 
and  flowing  trains,  and  attendant  train-bearers,  and  mitres 
and  crueifixeB  glittering  with  jewels,  and  priests  and  patri- 


Digitized  by 


Google 


20li  soiis. 

archs,  and  bishops  and  cardinals,  dazzled  our  astonished  eyes, 
and  filled  the  long  len^h  of  St.  Peter's.  Lastly,  came  the 
Pope,  in  his  crimson  chair  of  state  (sedia  gestatoria),  borne 
on  the  shoulders  of  twenty  palfiremeri.  He  was  arrayed  in 
robes  of  white,  and  wore  the  tiara,  or  triple  crown  of  the  oon- 
ioined  Trinity,  with  a  canopy  of  cloth  of  silver  floating  over 
his  head,  and  was  preceded  by  two  men  carrying  enormous 
fans  composed  of  large  plumes  of  ostrich  feathers,  mounted 
on  long  gilded  wands,  lie  stopped  to  pay  his  adorations  to 
the  miraculous  Madonna  in  her  chapel,  about  half-way  up ; 
and  this  duty,  which  he  never  omits,  being  performed,  he  was 
slowly  borne  past  the  high  altar,  liberally  giving  his  benedic- 
tion with  the  twirl  of  the  three  fingers  as  he  passed. 

They  set  him  down  upon  a  magnificent  stool,  in  front  of 
the  altar,  on  which  he  knelt,  and  his  crown  being  taken  off, 
and  the  cardinals  taking  off  their  little  red  skull-caps,  and  all 
kneeling  in  a  row,  he  was  supposed  to  pray.  Having  re- 
mained a  few  minutes  in  this  attitude,  they  took  him  to  the 
chair  prepared  for  him  on  the  right  of  the  throne.  There  he 
read,  or  seemed  to  read,  something  out  of  a  book,  for  I  know, 
from  having  seen  him  read  in  private,  that  it  was  impossible, 
without  his  spectacles  he  could  really  make  it  out ;  and  then 
he  was  again  taken  to  the  altar,  on  wliich  his  tiara  was  placed ; 
and,  bare-headed,  he  repeated — or,  as  by  courtesy,  they  call 
it,  sang — a  small  part  of  the  service,  threw  up  clouds  of  in- 
cense, and  was  removed  to  the  crimson  canopied  throne ;  and 
high  mass  was  celebrated  by  a  Cardinal  and  two  Bishops,  at 
which  he  assisted,  that  is,  he  got  up  and  sat  down  in  par- 
ticular parts. 

During  the  whole  service  I  could  not  help  observing,  that 
the  only  part  of  the  congregation  who  were  in  the  least 
attentive,  were  the  small  body  of  English,  whom  curiosity, 
and  perhaps  sense  of  decorum,  rendered  so.  All  the  Italians 
seemed  to  consider  it  quite  as  much  of  a  pageant  as  our- 
selves, but  neither  a  new  nor  an  interesting  one ;  and  they 
were  walking  about,  and  talking,  and  inrerchanging  pinches 
of  snuff  with  each  other,  exactly  as  if  it  had  been  a  place  of 
amusement, — ^till  the  tinkling  of  a  little  bell,  which  an- 
nounced the  elevation  of  the  Host,  changed  the-  scene. 
Every  knee  was  now  bent  to  the  earth,  every  voice  was 


Digitized  by 


Google 


THI  pops'b  BBKEDICTIOK.  205 

Iiiislied,  the  reyersed  arms  of  the  mflitary  rang  with  an 
instantaneous  dang  on  the  marble  pavement  as  thej  sunk 
on  the  ground,  and  all  was  still  as  death.  This  did  not  last 
above  two  minutes.  The  Host  was  swallowed,  and  so  began 
aud  ended  the  only  thing  that  bore  even  the  smallest  out- 
ward aspect  of  religion. 

They  brought  the  Pope,  however,  again  to  the  footstool  to 
pray.  Two  Cardinals  alwajs  support  him,  some  priestly 
attendants  bear  up  his  tram,  and  others  busy  themselves 
about  his  drapery,  while  two  or  three  others  put  on  and  off 
his  tiara  and  mitre ;  and  so  conduct  him  to  and  fro,  between 
the  altar  and  throne,  where  he  sits  at  the  top  of  this  magni- 
ficent temple,  exactiy  like  an  idol  dressed  up  to  be  wor- 
shipped. The  long  silver  robes,  the  pale,  dead,  inanimate 
countenance,  and  helpless  appearance  of  the  good  old  man, 
tend  still  more  to  give  him  the  air  of  a  thing  without  any 
will  of  its  own,  but  which  is  carried  about,  and  set  in  motion, 
and  managed  by  the  priests,  and  taught  by  them  to  make 
certain  movements. 

At  last  they  put  him  again  into  the  chair  of  state,  set  the 
crown  iipon  his  head,  and,  preceded  by  the  great  ostrich- 
feather  fans,  he  was  borne  out  of  the  church. 

We  made  ail  possible  expedition  up  to  the  Loggia, — a 
temporary  sort  of  gallery  erected  on  the  top  of  the  colon- 
nade, opposite  to  that  occupied  by  the  royal  families, — and 
secured  places  in  the  front  row.  An  expecting  crowd  had 
long  covered  the  broad  expanded  steps  and  platform  of  the 
church,  and  spread  itself  over  the  piazza. 

The  military  now  poured  out  of  St.  Peter's,  and  formed  an 
immense  ring  before  its  spacious  front,  behind  which  the 
horse-guards  were  drawn  up,  and  an  immense  number  of 
carriages,  filled  with  splendidly-dressed  women,  and  thou- 
sands of  people  on  foot  were  assembled.  But  the  multi- 
tude almost  shrank  into  insignificance  in  the  vast  area 
of  the  piazza;  and  neither  piety,  curiosity,  nor  even  that 
all-universal  gregarious  passion  that  makes  people  crowd 
to  a  crowd,  had  collected  together  sufficient  numbers  to 
fill  it. 

The  tops  of  the  colonnades  all  round  were,  however, 
thronged  with  spectators ;  and  it  was  a  curious  sight  to  see 


Digitized  by 


Google 


2106  &OHE. 

Bucli  a  mixture  of  all  ranks  and  nations, — ^from  the  coroneted 
head  of  kings,  to  the  poor  cripple  who  crawled  along  the 
pavement, — assemhled  together  to  await  the  hlessing  of  an 
old  man,  their  fellow-mortal,  now  tottering  on  the  hrink  of 
the  grave. 

Kot  the  least  picturesque  figures  amon^  the  throng,  were 
the  cantadini,  who,  in  every  variety  of  cunous  costume,  had 
flocked  in  from  their  distant  mountain  villages,  to  receive 
the  hlessing  of  the  Holy  !Father,  and  whose  hright  and  eager 
countenances,  shaded  by  their  long  dark  hair,  were  turned 
to  the  balcony  where  the  Pope  was  to  appear.  At  length 
the  two  white  ostrich-feather  fans,  the  forerunners  of  his 
approach,  were  seen;  and  he  was  borne  forward  on  his 
throne,  above  the  shoulders  of  the  Cardinals  and  Bishops, 
who  filled  the  balcony.  After  an  audible  prayer  he  arose, 
and  elevating  his  hands  to  heaven,  invoked  a  solemn  bene- 
diction upon  the  assembled  multitude,  and  the  people  com- 
mitted to  his  charge.  Every  head  was  uncovered,  the  sol- 
diers, and  manif  of  the  spectators,  sunk  on  their  knees  on  the 
pavement  to  receive  the  blessing.  That  blessing  was  given 
with  impressive  solemnity,  but  with  little  of  gesture  or 
parade.  Immediately  the  thundering  of  cannon  from  the 
Castle  of  St.  Angelo,  and  the  peal  of  bells  from  St.  Peter's, 

Eroclaimed  the  joyful  tidings  to  the  skies.  The  Pope  was 
orne  out,  and  the  people  rose  from  their  knees.  !But  at 
least  one  half  of  them  had  never  knelt  at  all,  which  greatly 
diminished  the  impressive  effect  of  the  whole.  There  is 
something  in  the  sunultaneous  expression  of  one  imiversal 
feeling  among  a  multitude,  especiaUy  if  that  feeling  par- 
take of  rejoicing,  enthusiasm,  devotion,  or  any  generous 
passion,  that  is  affecting  and  sublime  in  the  highest  de- 
gree; but  if  it  be  only  partially  diflftised,  its  effect  is  ut- 
terly lost.  I  forgot  to  say,  that,  after  the  benediction, 
several  papers  were  thrown  down  by  one  of  the  Cardinals, 
which  contained,  I  tmderstand,  the  mdulgences  granted  to 
the  different  churches,  and  a  most  pious  scuffle  ensued 
among  the  people  to  catch  them. 

The  Pope's  benediction  this  day,  the  Italians  say,  ex- 
tends all  over  the  world,  but  on  Thursday  it  only  goes  to 
the  gates  of  Eome. 


Digitized  by 


Google 


THE  pops' s:  BSKEDIGTIOir.  S07 

On  Thursday,  too,  previous  to  the  benediction,  one  of 
the  Cardinals  curses  all  Jews,  Turks,  and  heretics,  *  by  bell, 
book,  and  candle.'  The  little  bell  is  rung,  the  curse  is  sung 
from  the  book,  and  the  lighted  taper  thrown  down  amongst 
the  people.  The  Pope's  benediction  immediately  follows 
upon  all  true  believers. 


Digitized  by 


Google 


206  soxx. 


LETTER  LXXVn. 

iLLTTMIKATIOir  OF  8t.   PeTBE's,    AST)    FiSSWOBKS  FBOM 

THE  Castle  San  Anqelo. 

Ws  have  just  witnessed  one  of  the  most  brilliant  specta- 
cles in  the  world — ^the  illumination  of  St.  Peter's ;  and  the 
girandola,  or  fireworks,  from  the  Castle  San  Angelo.  In 
general  they  are  only  given  at  the  anniversary  of  the  Festival 
of  St.  Peter,  which  falls  in  the  middle  of  summer,  when  Borne 
is  deserted  by  every  stranger,  and  by  all  the  inhabitants  who 
can  escape ;  but  tms  year,  the  old  custom  of  exhibiting  them 
on  the  evening  of  Easter  Sunday,  has  been  revived,  in  com- 
pliment to  the  Prince  Eoyal  of  Bavaria,*  who  has  been  here 
several  months ;  and  it  is  only  one  of  the  many  pleasures  hia 
residence  at  Some  has  yielded  so  those  who  have  enjoyed  the 
advantage  of  his  acquaintance. 

At  Ave-Maria  we  drove  to  the  Piazza  of  St.  Peter's.  The 
lighting  of  the  lamtemoni^  or  large  paper  lanterns,  each  of 
which  looks  like  a  globe  of  ethereal  nre,  had  been  going  on 
for  an  hour,  and  by  the  time  we  arrived  there  was  nearly 
completed.  As  we  passed  the  Ponte  San  Angelo,  the  appear- 
ance of  this  immense  magnificent  church,  glowing  in  its  own 
brightness — ^the  millions  of  lights  reflected  in  the  calm  waters 
of  the  Tiber,  and  mingling  with  the  iJast  golden  glow  of  even- 
ing, so  as  to  make  the  whole  building  seem  covered  with  bur- 
nished gold,  had  a  most  striking  and  magical  effect. 

Our  progress  was  slow,  being  much  impeded  by  the  long 
line  of  carriages  before  us ;  but  at  len^h  we  arrived  at  the 
piazza  of  St.  Peter's,  and  took  our  station  on  the  right  of  its 
rarther  extreminity,  so  as  to  lose  the  deformity  of  the  dark 
dingy  Vatican  Palace.  The  gathering  shades  of  night  ren- 
dered the  illumination  every  moment  more  brilliant.    The 

*  Now  King. 


Digitized  by 


Google 


iLLVMiHATioir  01*  iT.  fstib's.  200 

whole  of  this  immense  chmrcli — its  columns,  capitals,  corni- 
088,  and  pediments — the  heautiful  swell  of  the  lofty  dome, 
towering  mto  heaven,  the  ribs  converging  into  one  point  at 
top,  surmonnted  bj  the  lantern  of  the  church,  and  crowned 
by  the  cross, — aQ  were  designed  in  lines  of  fire ;  and  the  vast 
sweep  of  the  circling  colonnades,  in  eveij  rib,  line,  mould, 
cornice,  and  column,  were  resplendent  with  the  same  beau- 
tiful li^ht. 

While  we  were  gazing  upon  it,  a  bell  chimed.  On  the 
cross  of  fire  at  the  top,  waved  a  brilliant  light,  as  if  wielded 
by  some  celestial  hano,  and  instantly  ten  thousand  globes  and 
stars  of  vivid  fire  seemed  to  roll  spontaneouslv  along  the 
building,  as  if  by  magic ;  and  self-iindled,  it  blazed  in  a 
moment  into  one  dazzfing  flood  of  glor^.  Fancy  herself,  in 
her  most  sportive  mood,  could  scarcely  have  conceived  so 
wonderM  a  spectacle  as  the  instantaneous  illimiination  of 
this  magnificent  fabric.  The  agents  by  whom  it  was  efiected 
were  unseen,  and  it  seemed  the  work  of  enchantment. 

In  the  first  instance,  the  illuminations  had  appeared  to  be 
complete,  and  one  could  not  dream  that  thousands  and  tens 
of  thousands  of  lamps  were  stiQ  to  be  illumined.  Their 
vivid  blaze  harmonized  beauti^illy  with  the  softer  milder 
li^ht  of  the  Icmtemom.  The  brilliant  glow  of  the  whole 
illumination  shed  a  ros^  light  upon  the  fountains,  whose 
silver  &I1,  and  ever-playmg  showers,  accorded  well  with  the 
magic  of  the  scene. 

V  iewed  from  the  Trinita  de'  Monti,  its  effect  was  unspeak- 
ably beautiful.  It  seemed  to  be  an  enchanted  palace  nung 
in  air,  and  called  up  by  the  wand  of  some  invisible  spirit. 
We  did  not,  however,  drive  to  the  Trinity  de'  Monti,  till 
after  the  exhibition  of  the  girandola,  or  great  fireworks  from 
the  Castle  of  St.  Angelo,  which  commenced  by  a  tremendous 
explosion,  that  represented  the  raging  eruption  of  a  volcano. 
'Red  sheets  of  fire  seemed  to  blaze  upwards  into  the  glowing 
heavens,  and  then  to  pour  down  their  liquid  streams  upon 
the  earth.  This  was  followed  by  an  incessant  and  compli- 
cated display  of  every  varied  device  that  imagination  could 
figure,  one  changing  mto  another,  and  the  beauty  of  the  first 
efifaced  by  that  of  the  last.  Hundreds  of  immense  wheels 
turned  round  with  a  velocity  that  almost  seemed  as  if  demons 

TOL.  II.  P 


Digitized  by 


Google 


210  BOHI. 

were  whirling  th^n,  letting  fall  thousands  of  hissing  draeous 
and  scorpions  and  fiery  snakes,  whose  long  oonyolutions  dart- 
ing forward  as  fiir  as  the  eye  could  reach  in  every  direction, 
at  length  vanished  into  air.  Fountains  and  jets  of  fire  threw 
up  their  bhuring  cascades  into  the  skies.  The  whole  vault  of 
heaven  shone  with  the  vivid  fires,  and  seemed  to  receive  into 
itself  innumerable  stars  and  suns,  which,  shooting  up  into  it 
in  brightness  almost  insufferable,  vanished — ^like  earth-born 
hopes. 

The  reflection  in  the  depth  of  the  calm  clear  waters  of  the 
Tiber  was  scarcely  less  beautiful  than  the  spectacle  itself; 
and  the  whole  ended  in  a  tremendous  burst  of  fire,  that, 
while  it  lasted,  almost  seemed  to  threaten  conflagration  to  the 
world. 

But  this  great  agent  of  destruction  was  here  wholly  inno* 
cuous.  Mui,  who  walks  the  earth,  ruling  not  only  the  whole 
order  of  beings,  but  the  very  elements  themselves,' has  turned 
that  seemingly  uncontrollable  power,  which  might  annihilate 
the  very  globe  itself,  into  a  plaything  for  his  amusement,  and 
compelled  it  to  assume  every  whimsical  and  fantastic  form 
that  his  fancy  dictates.  It  sdone,  of  all  things  in  existence — > 
reversing  the  order  of  nature, — arises  from  earth  towards  the 
skies ;  vet  even  this  he  has  bowed  to  his  will.  Wonderful  as 
these  fireworks  were, — and  let  not  that  name  lead  you  to 
imagine  they  bore  any  resemblance  to  those  puny  exhibitionB 
of  squibs  and  crackers  which  we  denominate  fireworks  in 
England,  for  nothing  could  be  more  different, — wonderM  as 
they  were,  the  illumination  of  St.  Peter's  far  surpassed  them. 
It  is  a  spectacle  which,  unlike  other  mere  sights  that  are  seen 
and  forgotten,  leaves  an  indelible  impression  on  the  mind. 

The  expense  of  the  illumination  of  St.  Peter's,  and  of  the 
girandola,  when  repeated  two  successive  evenings,  as  thej 
mvariably  are  at  the  festival  of  St.  Peter,  is  1000  crowns ; 
when  exhibited  only  one  night,  they  cost  700.  Eighly  men 
were  employed  in  the  instantaneous  illumination  of  the  lamps, 
which  to  us  seemed  the  work  of  enchantment.  They  were  so 
posted  as  to  be  imseen. 

I  have  now  been  in  Bome  during  a  second  Holy  "Week, 
and  have  enjoyed  the  immunity  I  dearly  earned  Last  year 
from  all  its  show  and  &tigues. 


Digitized  by 


Google 


OHBISTMAB  OSBBMOimfiS.  fill 

The  tliree  Misereres  in  the  Sistme  Chapel — ^the  exhibition 
of  the  cross  of  fire  in  St.  Peter's,  and  the  rope's  benediction 
fi-om  the  balcony  of  the  church,  are  all  that  1  have  attended, 
and  all  that  I  should  attend,  if  I  were  to  live  fifty  years  in 
Eome.  The  procession  into  St.  Peter's,  and  the  high  mass 
either  on  Easter  Sunday,  or  on  Christmas-day — ^for  they  are 
exactly  the  same — are,  however,  very  well  worth  seeing  otce, 
but  once  will  suffice. 

Excepting  this,  none  of  the  ceremonies  at  Christmas  in 
tiie  Church  of  Eome  are  worth  seeiug  at  all,  and  indeed 
there  are  very  few  to  see.  On  Christmas-eve,  a  mass  is  said 
in  the  Sistine  Chapel,  if  the  Pope  be  at  the  Vatican  Palace ; 
or  at  the  Quirinal  Chapel,  if  he  be  at  the  Quirinal  Palace, 
which  lasts  till  midnight.  But  there  are  no  ceremonies  what- 
ever to  see — ^no  music  whatever  to  hear ;  the  Pope  himself 
never  attends  it,  and  the  Cardinals  who  do,  like  the  rest  of 
the  congregation,  are  more  than  half  asleep. 

Yet  most  strangers  go  to  it,  and  all  repent  of  so  doing. 
Prom  thence  the^  generaUy  proceed  to  some  church  where 
there  is  music,  wnich  is  rarely  worth  hearing ;  and  at  four  in 
the  morning  they  adjourn  to  Santa  Maria  Maggiore,  where 
the  grand  vigO  of  Christmas-eve  is  held ;  and  after  sitting 
out  a  most  wearisome  mass,  they  are  at  last  rewarded  with 
the  sight  of  the  new-bom  Christ,  carried  about  dressed  in 
magnificent  swaddliag-dothes,  for  the  devotion  and  delight 
of  the  people. 

I  once  went  through  this  ceremony  in  a  Portuguese  cathe- 
dral, and  never  repented  any  other  act  of  foUy  so  much ;  in- 
deed, it  is  whoUy  without  an  object,  for  the  same  doU  which 
represents  the  in&nt  Saviour  of  the  world,  may  be  seen  at 
any  hour  you  please,  either  before  or  after  the  time  of  its 
birth,  and  I  cannot  understand  the  advantage  of  looking  at  it 
just  when  one  should  be  in  bed. 

This  vigil  of  Christmas-eve  was  formerly  really  held  on  the 
eve ;  it  began  before  midnight,  and  lasted  till  three  or  four  in 
the  morning ;  but  such  scenes  of  indecorous  gaiety  and  in- 
trigue went  on,  on  this  occasion,  in  the  church  itself,  that  Ihe 
hours  were  altered. 


p2 

Digitized  byVjOOQlC 


213 


LBTTBE  LXXVm. 
CoirrEKTs— TAmro  the  Veil. 

The  re-institation  of  tlie  Inquisition,  of  the  Jesuits,  and  of 
Monastic  orders  in  the  nineteenth  oentuiy,  is  a  retrograde 
step  in  the  progress  of  sociel^. 

The  French  suppressed  all  conyents  of  men,  without  ex- 
ception.   Thej  seized  upon  their  revenues,  took  possession 
of  their  ancient  habitations,  invested  as  manj  of  their  ton- 
sured heads  with  the  military  cap  and  feather  as  could  be 
made  to  submit  to  them,  and  shipped  off  those  who  refused 
to  renounce  their  vows,  to  imprisonment  in  Corsica  and 
Sardinia.    That  the  poor  and  the  old,  who  had  passed  their 
Hves  within  the  peacefid  cloister,  and  given  to  their  convent 
the  little  stipena  that  was  to  secure  support  to  their  latter 
years,  must  have  suffered  severely  when  thus  deprived  of 
all,  there  can  be  no  doubt.    But  these  excepted,  I  own  that 
lor  the  whole  race  of  monks  and  j&iars,  "  blacl^  white,  and 
grey,  with  all  their  trumpery,"  I  feel  little  compassion.     In 
tbe  same  summary  manner,  all  the  nunneries  in  Eome, 
excepting  two,  were  suppressed;  but,  however  wise  mifi^ht 
have  been  their  gradual  abolition,  the  propriety  of  tummg 
out  at  once  so  many  secluded,  and,  in  many  cases,  destitute 
and  harmless  females,  may  be  doubted.     Of  the  consequence 
of  this  step,  judging  of  them,  as  I  must  do,  from  hearsay 
only,  I  wHl  not  venture  to  speak.    But  since  they  had  been 
suppressed,  and  all  those  evil  consequences  once  incurred,  I 
cannot  but  lament  that  they  should  have  been  again  restored 
— especially  in  such  numbers ;  and,  above  all,  that  convents  of 
men,  which  I  look  upon  to  be  nests  of  vice,  hypocrisy, 
ignorance,  and  abomination,  and  which,  for  the  most  part, 
are  filled  with  young  sturdy  beggars,  should  have  been 
reestablished  at  all.    The  exact  number  of  convents,  and  sidll 


Digitized  by 


Google 


ooirYEirrs  .utd  xokastbbibb.  218 

more  of  their  inmates,  it  is  difficult  to  ascertain ;  but  all 
allow  that  the  friars  oonsiderablj'  oat-number  the  nunis^ 
With  the  assistance  of  one  or  two  aboH,  I  counted  upwards 
of  fifty  convents  for  men,  and  five-and-thirtj  for  women,  in 
Itome  and  the  immediate  yicinity,  and  probably  we  left  many 
unreckoned. 

I  have  visited  many  of  the  nunneries,  and  one  or  two  of 
the  convents  in  Bome ;  for  a  con/venio  always  means  here  a 
monastic  community  of  men,  and  a  monasterio^  of  women ; 
—although  the  reverse  is  the  case  in  general  parlance  in 
England; — ^but  as  the  interior  of  one  much  resembles  an* 
other,  and  as  there  is  nothing  particularly  interesting  about 
any  of  them,  I  shall  only  give  you  a  short  account  of  my 
visit  to  that  of  S.  Svlvestro  ifi  Capite,  originally  founded  for 
the  noble  sisters  of  the  house  of  Colonna^  wno  dedicated 
themselves  to  Gfod.*  None  but  the  daughters  of  noble 
families  are  admitted  here;  and  yet  in  this  living  grave, 
where  rank,  riches,  youth,  beauty,  and  genius,  are  aU  buried 
in  equal  nothingness,  and  where  nearly  all  but  the  mere 
animal  powers  are  extinguished — ^what  can  it  signify  with 
what  titles  they  were  once  adorned  ? 

The  Convent  of  S.  Sylvestro  stands  in  the  Campo  Marzo, 
in  one  of  the  best  situations  of  modem  Bome.  It  is  an 
immense  building,  three  stories  high,  in  the  form  of  a  quad- 
rangle, enclosing  a  small  garden  in  the  centre,  which,  from 
being  so  enclosed,  is  neither  blessed  with  much  light  nor 
air.  Here,  however,  alone  the  nuns  can  enjoy  "  these  com- 
mon gifts  of  Heaven;**  for,  unlike  the  monks  and  friars, 
who  may  roam  about  the  town  and  country,  they  may  never 
cross  the  threshold  of  their  prison-house.  Yet  these  nuns 
are  of  the  Franciscan  order,  the  mildest  of  all.  They  are 
allowed  to  see  all  their  near  relations  at  the  grate,  and  even 
occasionally  to  receive  the  females  in  the  parlour  of  the 
convent.  They  are  not  obliged  to  rise  to  nocturnal  prayer, 
nor  to  practice  fasts  and  penances  of  peculiar  austerity. 
The  privilege  of  speech  is  not  denied  them ;  nor  is  the  use 
of  linen  forbidden,  in  order  that  the  dirt  of  the  body  may 
serve  for  the  purification  of  the  soul. 

♦  In  the  year  1818. — Vide  Gibbon's  Decline  and  Fall,  vol.  xii.,  chap. 
70,  p.  814. 


Digitized  by 


Google 


214  BOKX. 

About  forty  nuiui,  with  about  half  the  number  of  Isy 
nsters,  or  BerrantB,  oecupy  this  spacious  monastery,  which 
would  contain  more  than  a  hundred;  indeed,  during  the 
whole  time  the  Fr^ich  were  in  Borne,  it  also  receired  a 
community  of  expelled  nuns  of  the  Capuchin  order,  who 
voluntarily  continued  to  practise  all  its  austerities,  though 
living  with  the  Franciscans  of  San  Svlvestro.  None  of 
either  sisterhood  left  their  order,  though  all,  at  that  time, 
were  at  perfect  liberty  to  do  so. 

The  Superior,  a  fine-looking  woman,  conducted  us  throujgh 
the  convent,  and  seemed  much  gratified  and  amused  with 
our  visit.  She  is  now  near  fifty,  and  had  herself  taken  the 
vows  at  the  age  of  twenty,  not  only  voluntarily,  but  in  oppo- 
sition to  the  wishes  of  her  parents,  and  assured  us  she  had 
never  repented  it.  When  aisked  why  she  had  chosen  at  that 
age  to  leave  her  family,  and  renounce  the  world,  she  replied, 
"  Because  Gt)d  called  me !" — (Ferche  Dio  mi  chiamb.) 

The  convent  contains  nothing  remarkable.  There  is  a 
large,  wild-looking,  cold,  cheerless  hall,  or  refectory,  in  which 
the^  all  assemble  to  dinner  and  supper,  but  no  sitting-room. 
Their  own  apartments,  in  which  they  usually  sit  as  well  as 
sleep,  are  tolerably  lai^,  and  decently  clean,  but  have  no 
fire-place,  and  consequently  lose  that  important  ventilation. 
This  deficiency  of  a  chimney,  however,  is  common  in  all  true 
Italian  houses,  and  a  brazier  Ml  of  ignited  charcoal  is  the 
usual  and  unwholesome  substitute  for  the  cheerM  and  salu- 
tanr  blaze  of  a  fire. 

Six  or  seven  of  the  nuns  were  sitting  at  work  together,"  in 
one  of  their  bed-rooms ;  for  they  have  nothing  in  the  world 
to  do,  except  to  pray  and  make  their  clothes.  They  do, 
indeed,  take  in  children  to  educate,  though  how  they  educate 
them  is  more  than  I  can  conceive ;  for  though  I  was  in  every 

Eart  of  the  convent  I  could  neither  see  nor  hear  of  an^ 
ook,  except  their  prayer-books.  When  I  asked  them  if 
they  had  not  a  Bible,  they  were  shocked  at  such  a  pro&ne 
idea. 

Luckily,  aa  we  thought,  for  the  poor  children,  they  had 
then  only  three  pupils;  but,  in  general,  they  have  a  con- 
siderable number.  They  showed  us  a  little  theatre  in  the 
convent,  where  their  scholars,  assisted  by  some  of  the  nuns. 


Digitized  by 


Google 


TAKnrO  THZ  TEIL.  215 

occasionally  act  sacred  dramas  during  the  CamiTal,  to  a 
select  audience  of  their  female  rektires.* 

The  nuns'  apartments  in  erery  story  open  upon  a  gallery 
-vrhich  runs  round  the  quadrangle  that  forms  their  convent, 
and  from  the  top  of  all  they  have  a  halcony,  from  which, 
6b,  height  of  happiness !  they  can  catch  a  distant  glimpse  of 
the  Corso.  They  eagerly  showed  it  to  us,  and  this  peep 
of  the  world  they  had  left^  seemed  their  highest  enjoyment. 

Their  eager  curiosity  ahout  us — our  persons,  names,  situa- 
tions,  ages,  reasons  for  coming  to  Italy,  and  to  their  convent 
— but,  above  all,  about  every  article  of  our  dress,  its  make, 
texture,  &shion,  and  value,  was  quite  insatiable;  and  the 
questions  they  asked  perfectly  unanswerable. 

They  have  a  large  apothecary's  shop  in  the  convent,  where 
-medicines  are  compounded  by  two  ot  the  nuns,  which  must, 
I  should  think,  be  the  death  of  many  of  them.  The  doctor, 
however,  is  the  only  man  ever  admitted  into  the  convent, 
except  the  confessor  and  the  Pope, — ^who  once  paid  them 
a  visit— an  event  never  to  be  forgotten. 

I  ought,  too,  to  have  excepted  the  Cardinal  Vicario,  who 
has  the  charge  of  all  the  convents  (I  mean  mmneries),  and 
must  have  enough  upon  his  hands,  I  should  think. 

We  saw  two  cofwerH,  girls  destined  to  be  nuns,  but  who 
had  not  yet  taken  the  noviciate  veil.  They  were,  however, 
called  sposme,  the  affianced  spouses  of  Christ.  Both  were 
Toung,  and  one  was  very  pretty  and  lively.  She  was  a 
liucchese  of  a  noble  &mily,  and  had  lived  here  two  years, — 
and  yet  was  resolved  to  be  a  nun,  a  thing  which  is  to  me 
quite  incomprehensible.  Two  days,  I  should  think,  would 
cure  any  body.  She  was  only  waiting  for  her  portion,  which, 
in  this  convent,  is  unusually  nigh,  bemg  1500  crowns,  beside 
a  small  annual  stipend ;  the  exact  amount  of  which  I  have 
forgotten. 

A  novice,  after  taking  the  white  veil,  may  leave  the  con- 
vent ;  and  instances  of  it  have  occurred,  but  they  are  rare. 
Extreme  ill  health,  an  incurable  disease,  or  the  death  of 

*  These  sacred  dramas  would,  however,  be  considered  of  rather  a 
profane  nature  in  our  countiy.  Our  Saviour,  the  Virgin  Maiy,  Maiy 
Magdalen,  the  whole  host  of  heaven — ^and  even  the  Deity  himself— are 
among  the  dramatis  personn. 


Digitized  by 


Google 


216  Boici. 

Im)t1ieni  and  nusters,  widcli  makes  it  neeeflsaiy  for  ike  fncHm 
to  be  recalled  to  support  the  name  or  fortune  of  the  fEuniljy 
are  almost  without  exception,  the  reason  of  such  erents, 
when  thej  do  occur.  Bepentanoe,  disinclination,  however 
often  they  may  happen,  are  oonccMaled  or  avowed  in  yain. 
A  woman  who  should  persist  in  returning  to  the  world, 
would  be  welcomed,  not  only  with  its  dread  laugh,  but  its 
severest  reprehension.  Her  fan^y  would  consider  them- 
selves dishonoured,  and,  in  all  proDabiHty,  would  refuse  to 
receive  her.  Her  friends  and  acquaintance  would  scarcely 
associate  with  her.  No  man  would  ever  look  upon  her  for 
his  wife.  She  would  be  an  object  for  the  finger  of  scorn  to 
point  at.  Under  such  circumstances  she  must  take  the 
vows  or  die. 

It  is  only  a  few  days  since  I  saw  a  young  lady,  of  noble 

fisunily, — ^the  Contessa  M ,  witmn  these  very  walls, 

take  tiiose  vows,  which  must  therefore  be  considered  irre- 
vocable. She  was  young  and  handsome,  and  it  was  said  that 
she  entered  the  cloister  by  her  own  choice,  uninfluenced  by 
her  parents.  Still,  it  was  a  sufficiently  melancholy  sig^ht, 
and  I  could  not  help  thinking  how  often,  in  the  long  tedium 
of  the  living  death  to  which  she  had  doomed  herself,  she 
might  look  back  to  this  moment  with  vain  repentance, — not 
the  less  bitter  because  she  could  only  blame  herself:  nor 
when  I  saw  the  crowds  that  filled  the  church — ^the  pathway 
and  altar  strewed  with  flowers — ^the  public  applause — ^the 
gaze  of  strangers — the  chorus  of  nuns — ^the  blessings  of 
Cardinals — the  flattery  of  priests,  and  the  tears  of  friends — 
could  I  help  asking  myself,  if  the  secret  vanity  of  being  the 
heroine  of  such  a  scene,  might  not  have  had  its  influence  in 
her  determination  ? 

By  particular  favour,  we  had  been  furnished  with  billets 
for  the  best  seats,  and  after  waiting  about  half  an  hour,  two 
footmen,  in  rich  liveries,  made  way  for  the  young  countess, 
who  entered  the  crowded  church  m  full  dress,  her  dark  hair 
blazing  with  diamonds.  Supported  by  her  mother,  she  ad- 
vanced to  the  altar.  The  ceremony  you  must  often  have 
heard  described,  and  I  need  not  fatigue  you  with  a  minute 
repetition  of  its  details.  The  officiating  priest  was  the  Car- 
dinal Yicario,  a  fine-looking  old  man ;  the  discourse  from  the 


Digitized  by 


Google 


TAEIIf0  THE  TXn.  217 

mipit  WHB  pronounced  by  a  Domimcan  monk,  who  addressed 
ner  as  the  affianced  spouse  of  Christ, — a  saint  on  earth ; — 
one  who  had  renounced  the  vanities  of  the  world,  for  a  fore- 
taste of  the  joys  of  heayen.  There  was  much  of  eulogium, 
and  little  of  admonition — ^much  rhapsody,  and  little  sober 
reason  or  religion  in  it — ^very  much  that  was  calculated  to 
inflame  the  inexperienced  imagination,  but  little  that  could 
direct  the  erring  judgment. 

The  sermon  ended — ^the  lovely  victim  herself,  kneeling 
before  the  altar  at  the  feet  of  the  Cardinal,  solemnly  abjured 
that  world  whose  pleasures  and  affections  she  seemed  so  well 
calculated  to  enjoy,  and  pronounced  those  irrevocable  vows 
which  severed  her  firom  them  for  ever. 

As  her  voice,  in  soft  recitative,  chanted  these  fatal  words, 
I  believe  there  was  scarcely  an  eye,  in  the  whole  of  that  vast 
church,  unmoistened  by  tears. 

The  diamonds  that  sparkled  in  her  dark  hair  were  taken 
off;  and  her  long  and  beautiful  tresses  fell  luxuriantly  down 
her  shoulders.     One  lock  of  it  was  cut  off  by  the  Cardinal. 

The  grate  that  was  to  entomb  her  was  opened.  The 
Abbess  and  her  black  train  of  nuns  appeared.  Their  choral 
voices  chanted  a  strain  of  welcome.     It  said,  or  seemed  to 

say, 

"  Sister  spirit,  come  away ! " 

She  renounced  her  name  and  title — adopted  a  new  appella- 
tion— received  the  solemn  benediction  of  the  Cardinal,  and 
the  last  embraces  of  her  weeping  Mends — and  passed  that 
bourn  through  which  she  was  never  to  return. 

A  pannel  behind  the  high  altar  now  opened,  and  she 
appeared  at  the  grate  again.  Here  she  was  despoiled  of  her 
splendid  ornaments,  her  beautiful  hair  was  mercilessly  severed 
from  her  head  by  the  fatal  shears  of  the  sisters,  and  holding 
up  a  temporary  curtain,  they  hastened  behind  it,  to  take  off 
her  own  rich  dress,  and  invest  her  with  the  sober  robes  of 
the  nun — the  white  coif  and  the  novidate  veil.  This  veil,  it 
may  be  necessary  to  explain,  is  a  piece  of  cloth  fixed  on  the 
top  or  back  part  of  the  head,  and  falling  down  behind,  or  on 
each  side,  in  the  same  manner  as  on  a  veiled  statue.  It  is 
not  intended  to  conceal  the  face,  nor  can  it  answer  that  pur- 
pose ;  80  that  all  you  read  in  foolish  romances  about  blush- 


Digitized  by 


Google 


i218  BOMS. 

ing  nnsB  or  novices  pulling  down  their  yeOs,  to  sare  them 
from  the  gaze  of  some  admiring  youth,  is  sheer  nonsense. 
Indeed,  they  are  in  no  danger  of  iJeing  incommoded  with  it, 
as  they  can  never  more  be  seen  by  man.  Their  ordinary- 
devotions  are  practised  in  a  private  chapel  within  the  con- 
vent, and  when  they  attend  mass,  they  sit  high  up  in  a  lofty- 
church,  completely  screened  from  view  by  a  gflded  grating, 
so  dose,  that  it  is  impervious  to  the  external  gaze,  thougli 
the  nuns  can  see  through  it. 

The  dress  of  the  Franciscan  order,  and,  indeed,  of  every 
other  I  have  ever  seen,  is  plain  and  coarse,  and  far  from 
beautiful.  The  gown  is  a  black  stuff,  but  made  so  awkwardly, 
that  it  is  a  complete  disguise  to  the  figure.  The  graces  of 
the  "Venus  de'  Medicis  herself,  if  she  were  attired  in  such 
habiliments,  would  be  lost.  But  the  quantity  of  white  linen 
that  surrounded  the  head  and  face,  was  rather  becoming  to 
the  bright  eyes  and  lovely  countenance  of  the  young  novice, 
and  when  the  curtain  was  removed,  we  all  agreed  that  she 
looked  prettier  than  before. 

Throughout  the  whole  ceremony  she  showed  great  calm- 
ness and  firmness,  and  it  was  not  till  all  was  over  that  her 
eyes  were  moistened  with  the  tears  of  natural  emotion. 
She  afterwards  appeared  at  the  little  postern-gate  of  the 
convent,  to  receive  the  sympathy,  and  praise,  and  congra- 
tulations of  all  her  friends  and  acquaintance ;  nay,  even  of 
strangers,  all  of  whom  are  expected  to  pay  their  compliments 
to  the  new  spouse  of  heaven. 

The  history  of  one  of  the  former  nuns  of  this  convent, 
as  related  to  me  by  one  of  the  sisters,  is  quite  a  romance, 
and  in  its  most  common-place  style.  Her  name  was  Sasso 
Ferrato;  she  was  left  an  orphan  and  an  heiress  from  in- 
fency,  and  placed  by  her  undo,  her  sole  guardian,  here, 
with  the  intention  of  inducing  her  to  take  the  veil,  that  her 
fortune  might  descend  to  him  and  to  his  family.  It  hap- 
pened, however,  that  at  one  of  the  ^rand  processions  of  tne 
Virgin,  which  the  nuns  were  assembled  to  behold,  the  young 
Sasso  Eerrato  saw,  and  was  seen  by  the  captain  of  the 
guards,  stationed  at  the  convent,  a  yoimger  son  of  the 
Giustioiani  £eunily,  and  a  brother  of  one  of  her  youthful 
companions  in  the  convent.    His  visits  to  his  sister  became 


Digitized  by 


Google 


rAMHSTTABCB  CiLTASTBOPnX.  "Sltf 

vwy  frequent,  aixd  Sasso  Ferrato  ^nerally  contrired  to  ac- 
componj  her  friend  on  those  occasions.  They  became  despe- 
rately in  love ;  but  the  cruel  unde  refrised  his  consent,  and 
by  arts  which  intimidated  the  young  and  inexperienced 
mind  of  Sasso  Ferrato,  by  powerful  interest,  wmch  ren- 
dered the  complaints  of  her  lover  vain,  and  by  his  autho- 
rity as  the  representative  of  her  parents,  he  succeeded  in 
obliging  her  to  take  the  veil.  She  only  lived  two  years 
afterwM^. 

Ker  lover  became  a  maniac,  and  after  being  confined  for 
some  time,  continued,  during  the  remauung  years  of  his 
life,  to  roam  about  the  neighbourhood  of  the  city,  his 
hair  and  beard  growing  wild,  his  dress  neglected,  and  his 
manners  gloomy  and  ferocious,  though  harmless  in  his 
actions. 

A  stiU  more  horrible  catastrophe  ensued  at  a  convent  in 
the  north  of  Italy.  An  unfortunate  girl,  whose  father  was 
resolved  to  compel  her  to  take  the  veil  contrary  to  her 
inclination,  persisted  for  a  long  time  in  her  refusal,  but  was 
treated  with  such  dreadful  brutalify  at  home,  that  at  length 
she  consented;  but  no  sooner  had  she  pronounced  her 
vows,  than  she  requested  a  private  interview  with  her 
father  at  the  grate  of  the  convent;  and  when  left  alone 
with  him,  killed  herself  before  his  eyes,  cursing  him  with 
her  latest  breath. 

This  story,  horrible  and  improbable  as  it  may  seem,  is 
quite  true.  I  know  the  family,  but  refrain,  from  obvious 
reasons,  from  mentioning  their  name.  It  is  not,  however, 
true  that  girls  are  often  forced  to  take  the  veil ;  but  to  say 
they  never  are,  is  equally  false.  I  am  informed  that  young 
nuns  often  faU  in  love  with  young  friars,  but  the  attacnment 
is  perfectly  platonic.  Indeed,  so  strict  are  now  the  rules 
of  female  monastic  life,  that  I  believe  it  must  necessarily 
be  so.  But  love,  it  is  well  known,  will  break  through  bolts 
and  bars,  and  grates  and  convent  walls;  and  love  once 
inspired  a  nun  with  the  project  of  getting  out  of  her  con- 
vent through  a  common  sewer,  which,  however  imsavoury 
a  path,  she  frequently  practised  after  night  had  covered 
the  world  with  her  sable  curtain,  and  wrapped  the  peaceftd 
sisterhood  in  the  arms  of  Morpheus.    Her  nun's  dress  was 


Digitized  by 


Google 


'220  BOMS. 

deposited  in  her  chamber,  and  the  exterior  dirfy  garment, 
with  which  she  paAsed  through  the  sewer,  was  exchanged 
for  one  her  lover  wrapped  her  in  at  its  mouth.  She  n^ed 
to  walk  with  him  sometmies  for  hours,  but  always  returned 
to  her  convent  before  the  dawn.  One  evening,  however, 
on  returning  from  her  romantic  ramble  bj  moonlight,  what 
was  her  horror  to  find  the  sewer — ^the  weU-known  passage 
— completely  choked  up  with  water,  and  all  entrance  im- 

Eracticable !  Discovery  would  bring  certain  destruction  on 
erself  and  her  lover.  Their  lives  would  be  the  forfeit,  or 
a  solitary  dungeon  their  mildest  doom.  Concealment  was 
impracticable;  for  who  would  harbour  them? — ^flight  im- 
possible ;  for  without  passports,  the  gates  of  the  city  would 
De  closed  against  them ;  and  could  they  scale  the  walls,  no 
other  refuge  would  be  open  to  them.  In  this  situation 
the  courage  and  presence  of  mind  of  the  nun  saved  them 
both.  She  went,  dressed  in  her  lover's  clothes,  to  the 
house  of  the  Cardinal  Vicario,  who  was  an  old  friend  of 
her  father's,  disturbed  the  family,  had  the  Cardinal  roused 
out  of  bed  on  the  plea  of  the  most  urgent  and  important 
business,  obtained  a  private  audience,  tlu*ew  herself  at  his 
feet,  and  confessed  all.  So  earnestly  did  she  implore  him 
to  save  her  and  her  family  from  the  public  disgrace  of  an 
exposure,  that,  melted  by  her  tears,  ne  followed  the  plan 
she  suggested,  ordered  his  carriage,  took  her  and  one  con- 
fidential chaplain  on  whose  fidelity  he  could  rely,  drove  to 
the  convent,  rang  up  the  portress,  and  pretending  he  had 
received  information  of  a  man  having  entered  and  being 
concealed  in  it,  demanded  instant  admittance  to  search  it, 
which,  in  virtue  of  his  office,  could  not  be  refused  at  any 
hour.  He  ordered  the  terrified  sisters  to  remain  in  their 
rooms,  and  having  dropped  the  disguised  nim  in  hers,  pro- 
ceeded in  his  mock  examination  iSjl  she  had  disrobed  her- 
self, and  his  attendant  had  conveyed  away  the  bundle  of 
her  clothes ;  then  professing  himself  perfectly  satisfied  that 
the  information  he  had  received  was  fisdse,  he  left  the  con- 
vent,— taking  care,  however,  next  day,  to  have  the  sewer 
so  closed  that  it  could  never  serve  for  anything  but  a  pas- 
sage for  dirty  water  a^n. 
The  most  severe  of  the  female  monastic  orders  is  that  of 


Digitized  by 


Google 


THB  8EP0LT0  TITO.  221 

Santa  Theresa^  in  which  its  unfortunate  yotaries  are  doomed 
to  unceasing  midnight  vigils  and  daily  &8ts,  to  penance, 
austerity,  and  mort^cation,  in  every  possible  form;  while 
all  intercourse  with  their  friends,  all  indulgence  of  the 
Bweet  affections  of  nature,  are  as  sedulously  mterdicted  as 
if  these  were  crimes  of  the  blackest  dye.  It  is  the  great 
merit  of  their  lives  that  death  is  to  be  continually  before 
their  eyes,  continually  present  to  their  thoughts, — ^like  a 
man  that  should  stand  rooted  before  a  dock,  with  his  eyes 
fixed  on  the  hour  to  which  it  was  tending,  and  lose,  in  its 
<3ontemplation,  the  intervening  moments.  But  to  all  intents 
and  purposes,  to  all  the  duties,  pleasures,  and  hopes  of  life, 
they  are  as  completely  dead  as  if  the  grave  had  already 
closed  over  them.  And  what  is  it  but  a  living  death,  a 
more  lingering  mode  of  being  buried  ahve  ?  That  punish- 
ment which  the  fanaticism  of  Pagans  inflicted  on  guilty 
vestal  virgins,  the  fanaticism  of  £[)man  Catholics  inflicts 
upon  the  mnocent — and  they  call  this  religion  and  virtue ! 
W  as  man,  then,  bom  voluntarily  to  seek  to  suffer,  or  was 
life  given  to  him  only  to  contemplate  its  close  ?  Was  he, 
whom  the  very  voice  of  Nature  calls  to  partake  of  the 
common  blessings  Heaven  has  diffused  upon  the  earth,  con- 
demned by  the  voice  of  Heaven  itself,  to  exclude  himself 
from  the  social  duties,  the  natural  enjoyments,  and  the 
sweet  and  innocent  pleasures  of  our  nature  ?  Is  he  acting 
his  allotted  part,  when,  like  a  flend  on  earth,  he  increases 
the  quantity  of  human  misery,  and  cuts  off  the  sources  of 
natural  happiness  ?  But  I  must  restrain  my  indignation, 
as  vain  as  it  is  just;  for  when  did  it  avail  to  exclaim 
against  any  of  the  follies,  the  infatuation,  or  the  crimes  of 
man? 

There  is  in  Eome  a  convent  called,  and  justly  called,  the 
Sepolto  Ywo^  in  which  are  buried  alive  contumacious  or 
fanatic  nuns,  from  all  convents ;  females  condemned  by  the 
Inquisition  for  too  little  or  too  much  religion — and  wives 
and  daughters,  whose  husbands  and  fathers  have  the  means 
to  prove  they  deserve,  or  the  interest  to  procure  the  order 

*  It  is  near  the  Church  of  Santa  Maria  Maggiore;  and  there 
were  about  forty  unfortunate  females  immured  in  it  when  I  was  in 
Boma. 


Digitized  by 


Google 


222  HOME. 

for  such  a  dreadful  ptmishment.  Instances  have  occnrred, 
where  mere  resistance  to  the  will  of  a  parent,  or  causeless 
jealousy  conceived  by  a  husband,  have  been  followed  by 
this  horrible  vengeance.  What  may  pass  within  its  walla 
can  never  be  known;  none  but  its  victims  may  enter,  and 
none  of  them  may  quit  it.  They  see  no  human  beings 
excepting  once  a-year,  when,  in  the  presence  of  the  abbess, 
they  may  have  an  interview  with  their  father  or  mother; 
but  they  must  not  tell  the  secrets  of  their  prison-house. 
They  hear  no  tidings  of  the  world  that  surrounds  them,  nor 
even  know  when  the  friends  dearest  to  them  are  removed 
by  death. 

I  have  been  much  interested  in  the  fate  of  a  poor  nun, 
who,  in  the  exaltation  of  a  heated  imagination,  lately  fancied 
herself  inspired  by  heaven,  and  destined  to  convert  sinners 
to  repentance.  The  tribunal  of  the  Inquisition  has  decided 
that  ner  claims  to  inspiration  are  unfounded,  and  though  it 
appears  that  she  was  a  fanatic,  not  an  impostor,  they  hare 
thrown  her  into  this  horrible  tomb,  whither,  if  it  be  the  fit 
punishment  for  all  holy  cheats,  I  think  its  members  might 
aU  go  themselves. 

By  far  the  least  exceptionable  species  of  nunnery  here,  is 
that  of  the  Tor'  d^  SpeccM,  where  a  company  of  respectable 
women,  chiefly  widows  of  small  fortune,  live  together,  and 
lead  a  rational,  regular,  and  religious  Hfe,  without  binding 
themselves  by  any  vows,  but  obey  certain  rules,  and  are 
under  the  direction  of  a  Superior,  who  is  elected  by  them- 
selves, and  only  holds  her  office  for  a  limited  period.  They 
wear  a  uniform  dress,  have  the  power  to  go  out,  with  cer- 
tain restrictions,  and  are  much  more  free  and  independent, 
in  all  respects,  than  any  other  similar  community.  They 
may  leave  it  if  they  choose.  Such  an  institution  as  this  in 
our  country  would  be  a  respectable  and  comfortable  asylum 
for  unprotected  unmarried  women,  and  widows  of  smaH 
fortune.  These  ladies  also  educate  children.  There  are 
likewise  several  meritorious  communities  of  females,  who, 
under  the  name  of  Maestre  Fie,  devote  themselves  to  the 
education  of  children  of  the  poor. 

I  forgot  to  mention,  that  m  the  month  of  May,  there  are 
few  convents  in  which  the  nuns  do  not  enjoy  the  privilege  of 


Digitized  by 


Google 


PI0XJ8  JL9S0CIXTI0VB,  223^ 

ffomg  out  in  a  body  in  coaches  into  tlie  country,  where  they 
aine  and  spend  the  day  at  the  house,  aud  with  the  female 
friends  of  the  Superior  or  some  of  the  sisters.  Some  con- 
vents have  both  a  whole  and  a  half  holiday ;  others  only  the 
latter.  I  often  met  them  last  spring  in  their  annual  festi* 
vals ;  and  it  was  delightful  to  see  their  countenances  of 
ahnost  anxious  joy,  and  the  wild  astonished  eagerness  with 
which  they  gazed  on  the  houses,  the  passengers,  the  carriages, 
the  fields,  the  trees,  the  fair  face  of  nature,  and  the  inter- 
dicted figure  of  man. 

It  is  very  common  in  the  higher  orders  among  the  laity 
of  both  sexes  in  Bome,  to  retire  into  a  convent  for  a  few 
days  or  a  week,  (generally  Passion  week,)  of  every  year, 
to  practice  prayer  and  penance,  during  which  period  they 
strictly  conform  to  the  rules  of  the  community,  and  not 
unfrequently  increase  the  austerity  of  their  proscribed  fasts 
aud  vigils :  not  to  mention  hearing  four  sermons  a-day. 

Por  this  purpose  of  secular  penitence,  there  is  one  convent 
appointed  for  men,  and  another  for  women,  which  are  amongst 
the  most  rigorous  in  their  discipline.  That  destined  for  the 
poor  females,  is  in  reality  a  dreary  abode ;  but  the  Convent 
of  St.  John  and  St.  Paul,  which  is  the  place  of  penitence  for 
the  male  sex,  appeared  to  me  rather  a  desirable  retreat.  Its 
long  corridors  and  spacious  apartments,  are  clean,  light,  and 
cheerful,  and  it  contains  an  extensive  library. 

There  is  nothing  worth  notice  in  the  church  of  this  con- 
vent, excepting  that  you  are  shovni  the  very  spot  of  the 
martyrdom  of  St.  Jolm  and  St.  Paul, — ^not  the  apostles — 
only  two  Saints  of  that  name.  Lorenzo  de'  Medici  v^rote  a 
pious  drama,  or  mystery,  commemorating  their  fate,  which 
was  acted  at  Morence  with  all  the  magnificence  of  his  reign. 
These  saints,  who  were  brothers,  were  treated  with  distin- 
guished  favour  b^  Santa  Constantia  for  being  Christians,  and 
beheaded  by  Juhan  the  Apostate  for  the  same  reason.  Their 
death  was  avenged  by  a  certain  St.  Mercury, — apparently 
the  old  pagan  god,  enlisted  as  saint, — who  got  out  of  his  grave 
on  purpose  to  kill  that  emperor  in  a  battle.  These  murders 
are  the  only  incidents  of  the  piece ;  which  ends,  like  Tom 
Thumb,  in  the  slaughter  of  the  whole  dramatis  personsB. 

The  monks  had  never  heard  of  this  drama,  but  seemed 


Digitized  by 


Google 


224  soKB. 

pleased  when  I  mentioned  it,  though  they  did  by  no  means 
agree  to  my  proposal  of  hayins  it  enactea  in  honour  of  their 
patron  saints,  on  the  .spot  of  their  maitjrdom. 

The  gardens  of  this  convent,  which  hang  on  the  summit  of 
the  Codian  Hill,  amidst  a  durk  grove  of  cypress,  command 
one  of  the  most  striking  prospects  which  even  Borne  can 
boast,-— of  the  mighty  Colosseum  in  the  plain  beknr,*— the 
Triumphal  Arches, — and  the  mouldering  pahice  of  the  Cffisars, 
which  crown  the  dark  summit  of  the  Palatine. 

An  aged  palm-tree,  which  is  supposed  to  have  flourished 
here  from  time  immemorial,  and  may  almost  be  reckoned  a 
natural  antiquity,  still  throws  its  tropical  shade  in  the  court 
of  the  convent.  I  once  descended  m)m  these  gardens  into 
the  vineyard  beneath  them,  to  examine  the  ancient  walls  of 
imknown  Eoman  ruins,  which  here  surround  and  support 
the  precipitous  banks  of  the  Coelian  HiU.  Their  date,  and 
author,  and  purpose,  are  alike  unknown.  The  deep  cavities 
and  recesses  into  which  they  are  formed,  are  not  easily  refer- 
rible  to  any  known  species  of  building. 

Facing  the  Colosseum,  there  is  an  isolated  fragment  of 
ruin,  to  which  tradition  has  assigned  the  name  of  the  Eos- 
trum  of  Cicero,  and  from  which,  it  is  said,  he  harangued  the 
Eoman  people.  I  scrambled  up  its  broken  walls,  and  stood 
on  the  green  platform  at  its  simimit,  merely  because  the 
name  of  Cicero  had  attached  to  it  a  charm ;  for  there  is  no 
probability  that  his  voice  ever  poured  forth  its  persuasive 
eloquence  here. 

The  Superior  of  this  convent,  with  four  hundred  other 
priests  and  friars,  was  sent  to  Corsica,  and  was  imprisoned, 
(as  he  said)  during  two  years  and  a  half,  in  a  dungeon,  upon 
bread  and  water,  tor  refusing  to  take  the  oath  of  allegiance 
to  Bonaparte. 

At  the  expiration  of  that  period,  he  was  liberated  with  his 
companions  from  prison,  but  kept  under  strict  surveillance ; 
and  only  regaLned  his  liberty  when  the  Pope  returned,  and 
the  French  were  expelled. 

The  conduct  of  these  ecclesiastics  will  be  censured  or  ap- 
plauded, according  to  the  views  of  those  by  whom  they  are 
judged.  This,  however,  I  wiU  observe,  that  their  fidelity  to 
their  banished  and  degraded  master,  through  exile,  poverty, 


Digitized  by 


Google 


BEYOTION  OT  THE  CLEBGT.  225 

and  imprisonment,  when,  no  hope  of  the  re-establishment  of 
his  power  could  actuate  them,  has  something  in  it  of  sincerity 
and  disinterestedness,  that  would  seem  to  place  the  reality 
of  these  qualities  above  suspicion, — even  although  their 
possessors  are  &iars. 


VOL.  II.  Q 

Digitized  by  VjOOQiC 


BOXl. 


LETTEELXXIX 

MntAOLES. 

The  age  of  miracles  I  thouglit  had  passed,  but  I  Have  dis- 
covered my  mistake.  "Within  this  little  month  three  great 
miracles  have  happened  lq  Some.  The  last  took  place  yes- 
terday, when  all  Itome  crowded  to  the  Capitol  to  see  an 
image  of  the  Virgin  opening  her  eyes.  Unluckily,  we  were 
in  the  country,  and  did  not  return  m  time  to  witness  it ;  for 
as  this  miracle  was  thought  a  very  improper  one  by  the 
higher  powers,  who  would  rather  she  had  wmked  at  certain 
practices  which  it  is  thought  she  had  not  only  opened  her 
own  eyes  upon,  but  those  of  other  people — she  was  carried 
away,  and  certain  priests,  who  are  supposed  to  have  been  in 
her  confidence  on  this  occasion,  have  been  shut  up  in  prison. 
Two  officers  of  the  Q-uarda  Mobile  are  also  in  custody  in  the 
state-prison  at  the  Castle  San  Angelo,  for  expressions  which 
implied  no  extraordinary  admiration  of  the  present  state  of 
thmgs.  It  is  so  nearly  impossible  to  get  at  the  bottom  of 
anything  in  Bome,  that  both  these  disgraced  military  and 
clergy  may  have  given  much  more  reason  for  their  enthral- 
ment  than  we  hear  of;  but  this  very  concealment  of  their 
offences  makes  one  rejoice  in  UviDg  under  a  government,  in 
which  the  truth  must  be  made  known,  and  in  which  no  man 
can  be  shut  up  in  a  dungeon  at  the  pleasure  either  of  priests 
or  princes,  without  being  tried  and  condemned  by  his  feUow- 
citizens.  In  this  respect,  things  are  neither  better  nor 
worse  here  now,  than  m  the  time  of  the  French,  who  shut 
people  up  with  quite  as  little  ceremony,  and  still  less  lenity. 

iSie  last  miracle  was  of  a  much  more  orthodox  description. 
The  miraculous  Madonna,  in  this  case,  opened  her  mouth 
iostead  of  her  eyes,  and  spoke  to  an  old  washerwoman,  to 
whom  she  imparted  her  discontent  at  being  so  much  neg- 


Digitized  by 


Google 


THE  EITAL  MADOl^AS.  227 

lected,  and  her  chapel  left  in  sueh  a  dirty  and  rainous  con- 
dition ;  while  so  many  other  Madonnas,  no  better  than  she, 
had  theirs  made  as  mie  as  hands  could  make  them.  The 
Madonna  spoke  no  more,  but  the  old  washerwoman  proved  a 
very  loquacious  reporter  of  her  wijshes  and  sentimentB.  The 
news  of  the  miracle  spread  like  wildfire ;  thousands  (I  am 
not  exaggerating)  may  be  seen  every  day  CTowding  to  this 
little  old  chapel,  near  St.  John  Lateran,  about  four  in  the 
afternoon,  the  hour  at  which  the  Virgin  addressed  the  washer- 
woman ;  it  being  supposed  that  this  is  her  favourite  time  for 
conversation ;  but  I  have  not  heard  that  sho  has  made  any 
new  observations.  Not  only  the  lower  orders,  but  crowds  of 
well-dressed  people,  and  handsome  equipages  of  all  sorts, 
daily  throng  the  door ;  and  the  long  green  avenue  that  leads 
under  the  walls  to  the  Porta  San  Giovanni,  instead  of  an 
unbroken  sohtude,  now  wears  the  appearance  of  a  fair. 

At  the  comer  of  every  street,  you  stumble  over  a  chair  set 
out  with  a  white  cloth,  a  little  picture  of  the  Madonna,  and 
a  plate  f<Hr  collections  to  beautify  her  chapel.  You  are 
assailed  on  all  sides  with  Httle  begging-boxes  for  the  Ma- 
donna's beautification ;  and  even  the  interests  of  the  holy 
Bouls  in  purgatory  are  forgotten,  in  the  pious  zeial  to  make 
.  her  fine  enough. 

To  see  the  luck  of  some  Madonnas ! — Thus  this  Madonna, 
who  opened  her  mouth  to  one  old  washerwoman,  has  come  to 
great  nonours  and  credit ;  while  the  other,  who  opened  her 
eyes  to  hundreds,  has  fallen  into  great  disgrace.  One 
Madonna  is  bom,  I  suppose,  according  to  the  proverb,  with 
a  silver  spoon  in  her  mouth,  and  another  with  a  pewter  one. 
But  this  IS  by  no  means  the  whole  of  our  miracles ;  for,  as  if 
one  Madonna  scorned  to  be  outdone  by  another,  there  is  an 
old  dirty  cobwebby  Virgin  in  the  Pantheon,  which  has  lately 
begun  to  work  miracles,  and  has  drawn  such  crowds  to  her 
shnne,  that  an  unhappy  stranger  can  scarcely  get  in  to  see 
the  building  itself.  It  is  probably  by  no  means  the  only 
miracle  which  its  walls  have  witnessed.  Italy  seems  always 
to  have  been  the  land  of  superstition;  and  the  Pagan  miracles 
that  are  upon  record,  at  least  equal  the  Eoman  Catholic,  both 
in  number  and  absurdly.  Every  page  of  Livy  and  Plutarch 
abounds  with  them.    JNot  a  year  ever  passed  without  two 

q2 


Digitized  by 


Google 


228  BOHS. 

or  three  oxen  speaking,  though  we  never  hear  any  of  their 
sayings.  Now,  even  a  Madonna  but  rarely  makes  use  of 
her  ton^e,  and  oxen  have  entirely  given  up  talking.  How- 
ever, it  18  a  different  thing  hearing  nonsense  that  was  cre- 
dited ages  ago,  and  seeing  it  before  one's  eyes :  and  when 
I  behold  crowds  flocking  to  kneel  before  these  taUdng  and 
winking  Madonnas,  I  cannot  help  asking  myself  if  this  is 
really  the  nineteenth  century  ?  One  would  have  thought 
there  had  been  miracles  enough  of  late  in  Eome  to  have 
satisfied  any  reasonable  people ;  but  the  Pope  and  a  detach- 
ment of  Cardinals  are  going  about  every  day  after  dinner 
in  quest  of  more.  They  visit  all  the  Madonnas  in  town,  in 
regular  succession.  They  began  with  Santa  Maria  Maggiore, 
who  takes  precedence  of  all  the  rest  here,  and  they  mil  not 
leave  one  imapplied  to  tiU  they  get  what  they  want, — ^which 
is  rain;  for  the  country,  with  the  unexampled  cold  and 
drought  of  the  spring,  is  dried  up,  vegetation  is  pined  and 
withering;  and  tnere  is  but  too  much  reason  to  oread  that 
the  miseries  which  the  poor  have  suffered  during  the  last 
dreadful  year  of  scarcily,  will  be  increased  tenfold  in  the 
next.  Pestilence  is  already  added  to  famine;  the  lower 
orders  are  perishing  by  hundreds,  of  a  low  contagious  fever, 
brought  on  by  want,  and  numbers  have  literaBy  died  of 
hunger  by  the  way-sides.  This  dreadful  mortality  at  present 
extends  all  over  Italy,  and  the  sufferings  of  the  livmg  are 
still  more  cruel  and  neart-rending  than  the  number  of  the 
dead.  You  daily  see  human  beings  crawling  on  the  dung- 
hills, and  feeding  on  the  most  loathsome  garbage,  to  satisty 
the  cravings  of  nature.  That  this  may  occasionally  be  done 
to  call  forth  charity,  is  unquestionable ;  but  it  is  also  done 
when  no  eye  is  visibly  near :  and  the  extremity  of  misery, — 
the  ghastly  famine  that  is  written  in  the  looks,  cannot  be 
feigned.  The  fiedlure  of  those  teeming  harvests  that  usually 
cover  the  earth,  spreads  among  the  improvident  and  over- 
flowing population  of  this  country",  horrors  of  famine  of  which 
you  can  nave  no  conception,  llie  dying  and  the  dead  sur- 
round us  on  all  sides ;  the  very  streets  are  crowded  with 
sick,  and  the  contagion  of  the  fever  is  thought  so  virulent, 
that  a  cordon  of  troops  is  drawn  around  the  great  hospital 
of  the  Borgo  San  Spirito,  to  prevep^t  co^^nunication  with  its 


Digitized  by 


Google 


ITAILAJBT   HOSPITALS.  229 

infected  inmates.  The  medical  treatment  in  this  fever  is 
universally  condemned  by  all  the  English  physicians  here ; 
and  the  general  management  of  the  hospitals  cannot  be  suffi- 
ciently reprobated.  W  ant  of  medical  skill,  and  want  of  care, 
perhaps  equally  conduce  to  the  remarkable  mortality  which 
reigns  in  them ;  but  from  the  returns,  it  appears  that  forty- 
six  per  cent,  die  at  the  Hospital  of  San  Spirito  at  Eome ; 
whereas  at  Paris  the  average  is  only  seven  per  cent.,  and  in 
!Ekigland  it  seldom  exceeds  four ! 

With  some  few  exceptions,  I  have  observed  throughout 
Italy  a  want  of  cleanliness,  and  especially  of  ventilation,  in 
the  hospitals,  which  is  more  unpardonable,  because  they  are 
built  upon  an  immense  scale;  and  yet  the  patients  are 
crowded  together,  while  spacious  wards  are  left  unoccupied, 
to  save  the  paltiy  expense  of  a  few  additional  attendants. 
Such  at  least  was  the  reason  repeatedly  assigned  to  us  for 
this  gross  mismanagement.  The  bad  effects  of  such  heat  and 
confinement  to  the  sick  must  be  doubly  prejudicial  in  this 
climate. 

It  was  oriffmally  a  trulv  Italian  idea,  to  erect  a  ereat 
hospital  for  the  recovery  of  health,  in  the  very  spot  which, 
£roni  the  days  of  the  ancient  Bomans  to  the  present  time, 
has  been  the  most  noted  for  its  unhealthiness.  The  Hospital 
of  the  Spirito  Santo  stands  in  the  worst  region  of  the  ma- 
laria ;  so  that  if  the  object  had  been  to  kill  instead  of  cure 
the  patients,  this  should  have  been  the  place  chosen  for  the 
purpose.  K  the  Hospital  of  the  Incurables,  which  stands  in 
a  very  healthy  situation,  had  been  placed  here,  there  might 
have  been  some  excuse  for  it,  since  it  could  scarcely  be 
regretted  that  the  lives  of  those  destined  to  hopeless  suffer- 
ings should  be  shortened.  But  even  abandoned  infants  are 
received  and  nurtured  in  sickness,  at  the  Hospital  of  San 
Spirito ;  and  its  benefits,  such  as  they  are,  are  open  to  all 
ages,  sexes,  and  nations. 

I  remember  at  Morence,  in  driving  about  the  town,  being 
struck  with  the  extraordinary  appearance  of  an  hospital, 
entirely  open  to  the  street,  at  one  end,  from  top  to  bottom, 
and  divided  from  it  only  by  iron  bars,  so  that  the  passengers 
had  a  fiiU  view  of  all  the  patients  ia  their  becfe ;  and  of 
every  operation,  of  whatever  nature,  which  went  on  during 


Digitized  by 


Google 


280  fiOHE. 

eickness ;  while  the  poor  invalids  must  have  been  distracted 
with  the  incessant  rattle  of  the  wheels.  Some  of  the  patients 
who  were  up,  were  talking  to  their  acquaintance  without  the 
grate ;  so  that  diseases  neyer  could  hare  a  finer  opportunity 
of  spreading.  The  want  of  decency,  as  well  as  common  sense 
and  humani^,  in  this  arrangement,  is  too  obvious  to  require 
comment.  I  have,  however,  only  been  as  yet  one  day  of  my 
life  in  Florence,  and  consequently  know  nothing  of  the 
reasons  for  this  strange  system, — ^if  reasons  there  be. 

But  to  return  to  tne  miracles,  from  which  I  have  wan- 
dered so  far.  I  understand  that  not  one  happened  during 
the  whole  reign  of  the  French,  and  that  it  was  not  until  the 
Streets  were  purified  with  lustrations  of  holy  water,  on  the 
return  of  the  rontiff,  that  they  began  to  operate  again. 

Private  miracles,  indeed,  affecting  individuals,  go  on  quite 
commonly  every  day,  without  exciting  the  smallest  attention. 
These  generally  consist  in  procuring  prises  in  the  lotteiy, 
curing  diseases,  and  casting  out  devils. 

The  mode  of  effecting  this  last  description  of  miracle  was 
communicated  to  me  the  other  day  by  an  Abate  here ;  and, 
as  I  think  it  extremely  curious,  I  shall  relate  it  to  you. 

It  seems  that  a  certain  friar  had  preached  a  sermon  during 
Lent,  upon  the  state  of  the  man  mentioned  in  Scripture 
possessed  with  seven  devils,  with  so  much  eloquence  and 
imction,  that  a  simple  countryman  who  heard  him,  went 
home,  and  became  conviaced  that  these  seven  devils  had  got 
possession  of  him.  The  idea  haunted  his  mind,  and  sub- 
jected him  to  the  most  dreadful  terrws,  till,  unable  to  bear 
his  sufferings,  he  unbosomed  himself  to  his  ghostly  father, 
and  asked  his  counsel.  The  fisither,  who  had  some  smattering 
of  science,  bethought  himself  at  last  of  a  way  to  rid  the 
honest  man  of  his  devils.  He  told  him  it  would  be  neces- 
sary to  combat  with  the  devils  singly ;  aad  on  a  day  ap- 
pointed, when  the  poor  man  came  with  a  sum  of  money  to 
serve  as  a  bait  for  the  devil — without  which  the  good  father 
had  forewarned  him  no  devil  could  ever  be  dislodged — he 
bound,  a  chain  connected  with  an  electrical  machine  in  an 
adjoining  chamber,  round  his  body — ^lest,  m  he  said,  the 
devil  should  fly  away  with  him — ^and  having  warned  him 
that  the  shock  would  be  terrible  when  the  de^  went  out  of 


y  Google 


STTPEBSTITIOB'.  231 

him,  lie  left  him  praying  devoutly  before  an  image  of  the 
Madonna,  and  after  some  time,  gave  him  a  pretty  smart 
shock,  at  which  the  poor  wretch  fell  insensible  on  the  floor 
firom  terror.  As  soon  as  he  recovered,  however,  he  protested 
that  he  had  seen  the  devil  fly  away  out  of  his  mouth,  breath- 
ing blue  flames  and  sulphur,  and  that  he  felt  himself  greatly 
relieved.  Seven  electrical  shocks,  at  due  intervals,  having 
extracted  seven  sums  of  money  from  him  together  with  the 
seven  devils,  the  man  was  cured,  and  a  great  miracle  per- 
formed. 

To  us  this  transaction  seemed  a  notable  piece  of  credulous 
superstition  on  the  one  hand,  and  fraudulent  knavery  on  the 
other ;  but  to  our  friend  the  Abate,  it  only  seemed  an  iQge- 
nious  device  to  cure  of  his  fears  a  simpleton,  over  whose 
mind  reason  could  have  no  power;  as  the  physician  cured 
the  ladv  who  fancied  she  had  a  nest  of  live  earwigs  in  her 
stomach,  not  by  arguing  with  her  on  the  absurdity  of  such 
a  notion,  but  by  showing  her  that  an  earwig  was  killed  with 
a  single  drop  of  oil,  and  making  her  swallow  a  quantity  of 
it.  But  with  respect  to  the  man  and  his  devils,  I  would  ask, 
why  inspire  superstitious  terrors  to  conquer  them  by  deceit, 
and  why  make  him  pay  so  much  money? 

Yet  this  is  nothing  to  other  thiQgs  that  daily  happen. 
Woidd  you  believe  that  there  has  actuallv  been  in  E-ome  a 
trial  for  witchcraft  ? — a  grave  formal  trial  for  witchcraft,  in 
the  nineteenth  century !  I  began  to  think  I  must  be  mis- 
taken, and  that  the  world  had  been  pushed  back  about  three 
hundred  years.     But  it  is  even  so. 

There  is  certainly  more  superstition  in  the  south  of  Italy 
than  the  north,  because  there  is  more  ignorance.  In  Milan, 
and  in  most  of  the  cities  of  Lombardy,  it  is  rapidly  disap-  . 
pearing  with  the  diffusion  of  knowledge  and  science.  Yet 
Florence,  enlightened  as  she  is,  has  a  reasonable  share  ;  and 
miracles,  and  miraculous  Madonnas,  abound  nearly  as  much 
in  Tuscany  as  in  the  States  of  the  Church,  as  I  have  good 
reason  to  know.  Even  the  liquefaction  of  St.  Januarius's 
blood, — ^which  is  generally  quoted  as  the  comhle  of  supersti- 
tion, is  not  without  its  parallel.  At  Mantua,  a  bottle  of  the 
blood  of  Christ  is  Uquefied  every  year,  to  the  great  edifi- 
cation of  the  compatriots  of  Virgil,     The  bottle  contaioing 


Digitized  by 


Google 


232  BOi^OB. 

this  real  blood  of  Christ  was  dug  up  at  Mantua  in  a  box, 
about  two  centuries  a^o,  with  a  written  assurance  that  it  bad 
been  deposited  there  by  a  St.  Longinus,  a  Boman  centurion, 
who  witnessed  the  crucifixion,  and  became  conyerted,  and 
ran  awaj  &om  Judaea  to  Mantua  with  this  bottle  of  blood ; 
and  after  lying  sixteen  centuries  in  the  ground,  the  box,  the 
writing,  the  bottle  and  the  blood,  were  as  fresh  as  if  placed 
there  only  the  day  before ! 

But  I  might  write  a  book  of  miracles,  were  I  to  relate 
the  hundredth  part  of  all  that  take  place  erery  year — nay, 
every  day,  in  Italy.    So  I  have  done. 


Digitized  by 


Google 


THX  BLESSIKO  OF   A^IITIMALS. 


LETTEE  LXXX. 
Elessiitg  of  the  Hobses — Festas — ^Itaiiak 

MAmfEBS. 

"We  were  present  to-day  at  one  of  the  most  ridiculous 
tscenes  I  ever  witnessed,  even  in  this  country.  It  was  St. 
Anthony's  blessing  of  the  Horses,  which  began  on  that 
saint's  day,  and  lasts  for  a  week ;  but  as  this  was  Vkfestone^ 
I  rather  unagine  we  saw  it  in  its  full  glory.  "We  orme  to 
the  church  of  the  saint,  near  Santa  Maria  Maggiore,  and 
could  scarcely  make  our  way  through  the  streets,  from  the 
multitudes  of  horses,  mules,  asses,  oxen,  cows,  sheep,  soats, 
and  dogs,  which  were  journeying  along  to  the  place  of  Dene- 
diction  ;  their  heads,  tails,  and  necks,  decorated  with  bits  of 
coloured  riband  and  other  finery,  on  this  their  unconscious 
gala-day.  The  saint's  benediction,  though  nominally  con- 
fined to  horses,  is  equally  efficacious,  and  equally  bestowed 
upon  all  quadrupeds ;  and  I  believe  there  is  scarcely  a  brute 
in  Eome,  or  the  neighbourhood,  that  has  not  participated 
in  it. 

An  immense  crowd  were  assembled  in  the  wide  open 
space  in  front  of  the  church,  and  from  the  number  of  beasts 
and  men,  it  looked  exactly  liko  a  cattle-fair.  At  the  door 
stood  the  blessing  priest,  dressed  in  his  robes,  and  wielding 
a  brush  in  his  hand,  which  he  continually  dipped  into  a 
huge  bucket  of  holy  water  that  stood  near  him,  and  spirted 
at  the  animals  as  they  came  up,  in  unremitting  succession, 
taking  off  his  little  skuU-cap,  and  muttering  every  time,— 
'*  IPer  mtercessionem  heaii  Antonii  Abatis,  h(BC  ammalia  libe^ 
rcmtur  a  malts,  in  nomine  Fatris  et  Mlii  et  Spiritus  Sancti. — 
Amenr 

The  poor  priest  had  such  hard  work  in  blessing,  that  he 


Digitized  by 


Google 


234  noHB. 

was  quite  exhausted  and  panting,  and  his  round  face  looked 
fieiy  red  with  his  exertions.  The  rider,  or  driver  of  the 
creature,  always  gave  some  piece  of  money,  larger  or  smaller, 
in  proportion  to  his  means  or  generosily,  and  received  an 
engravms  of  the  saint  and  a  little  metallic  cross ;  however, 
all  animcds  might  be  blessed  gratis. 

Several  weU-dressed  people,  in  very  handsome  equipages, 
attended  with  outriders  in  splendid  liveries,  drove  up  while 
we  were  there,  and  sat  uncovered  till  the  benediction  was 
given.  Then,  having  paid  what  they  thought  fit,  they  drove 
oSy  and  made  way  for  others. 

One  adventure  happened,  which  afforded  us  some  amuse- 
ment. A  countryman  having  got  a  Messing  on  his  beast, 
putting  his  whole  trust  in  its  power,  set  off  from  the  church- 
door  at  a  grand  gallop),  and  had  scarcelv  cleared  a  hundred 
yards,  before  the  ungainly  animal  tumbled  down  with  him, 
and  over  its  head  he  rolled  into  the  dirt.  He  soon  got  up, 
however,  and  shook  himself^  and  so  did  the  horse,  without 
either  seeming  to  be  much  the  worse.  The  priest  seemed 
not  a  whit  out  of  countenance  at  this ;  and  some  of  the 
standers-by  exclaimed,  with  laudable  stead&stness  of  faith, 
'^  that  but  for  the  blessing,  they  might  have  broken  their 
necks," 

San  Antonio  must  get  very  rich  with  this  traffic.  I  can- 
not omit  mentioniag,  however,  that  the  priest,  who  very 
civilly  presented  us  with  some  of  the  prints  and  crosses  of 
San  Antonio,  could  not  be  prevailed  on  to  accept  of  any 
remuneration. 

There  is  a  peculiar  and  more  solemn  sort  of  blessing, 
given  to  two  lambs,  on  the  21st  of  January,  at  the  Church  of 
Sta.  Agnese  ftiori  le  mwra,  from  the  sainted  fleeces  of  which 
are  manufiactured,  I  believe  bv  the  hands  of  nuns,  two  holy 
mantles,  called  palli;  which  the  Pope  presents  to  the 
Archbishops,  as  his  principal  shepherds.  It  is  incredible 
the  sums  of  money  that  used  to  be  given  in  former  days 
for  the  least  scrap  of  these  precious  garments, — ^but  times 
are  sadly  changed,  as  an  old  priest  pathetically  observed 
to  me. 

They  still,  however,  carry  a  remnant  of  the  Virgin  Mary's 
own  nuptial  veil  annually  in  solemn  procession   to    the 


Digitized  by 


Google 


OBSEBTAITCE  OP  H0LIDAT8.  235 

Cliiipch  of  Santa  Maria  del  Popolo,  where  it  is  still  adored ; 
and  the  marriage  of  Christ  and  St.  Catherine  is  still  cele- 
brated with  great  pomp,  on  the  anniyersary  of  their  wed- 
ding-day, the  29th  of  January,  at  the  Church  of  Santa 
Maria  sopra  Minerra,  and  held  as  a  grand  Festa.  But  the 
^esta  which  pleased  me  the  most  was  that  of  the  children. 
On  the  eve  of  Twelfth-Day,  the  Oratwre  (the  children),  with 
trembling  mingled  with  hope,  anticipate  a  midnight  visit 
from  a  mghtfdi  old  woman,  called  the  Befcma  (an  obvious 
corruption  of  H^fania,  the  Epiphany),  for  whom  they 
always  take  care  to  leave  some  portion  of  their  supper, 
lest  she  should  eat  them  up ;  and  when  they  go  to  bed, 
they  suspend  upon  the  back  of  a  chair  a  stocking,  to  receive 
her  expected  gifts.  This  receptacle  is  always  found  in  the 
morning  to  contain  some  sweet  things,  or  other  welcome 
presents, — ^which,  I  need  scarcely  say,  are  provided  by  the 
mother  or  the  nurse. 

There  is  here  a  dressed  up  wooden  figure  of  La  Befana, 
sufficiently  hideous, — ^the  bugbear  of  all  naughty  girls  and 
boys. 

On  the  eve  of  the  Epiphany,  the  lighted  up  Piazza  di 
Sant'  Eustachio  (the  firuit-market)  is  a  very  pretty  sight, — 
but  the  happiness  of  the  cratwre  the  next  morning  is  a  still 
more  delightful  one. 

Nothing  can  exceed  the  strictness  with  which  the  obser- 
vance of  the  Eestas  is  enforced  in  Eome.  I  have  seen  a 
printed  proclamation  which  was  circulated  on  the  Pope's 
return,  inculcating,  in  the  strongest  terms,  this  duty  so 
long  comparatively  neglected,  of  doing  nothing  on  holiclays ; 
and  denouncing  heavy  penalties  against  the  disobedient. 
Idleness,  this  paramount  obligation,  thus  enjoined  by  the 
religion  and  laws,  is,  besides,  too  consonant  to  the  dispo- 
sition of  the  people  to  be  disobeyed;  and,  accordingly,  there 
are  upwards  oi  seventy  Festas  in  the  year,  besides  the 
hebdomadal  one  of  Sunday,  in  which  the  sin  of  being  guilty 
of  any  useful  employment,  or,  indeed,  any  employment  at 
all,  is  cautiously  avoided  by  the  Romans,  The  manner  in 
which  these  Festas  are  spent  is,  indeed,  highly  characteristic 
of  the  people. 

After  mass  the  lower  orders  throng  the  streets  in  a  state 


Digitized  by 


Google 


236  BOHi. 

of  complete  apathetic  yacuity  of  mind  and  bodilj  inertion. 
You  see  the  strange  spectacle  of  a  crowd  at  rest,  content 
with  the  delight  of  listless  indolence,  and  seeming  to  £eel 
that  exertion  is  positive  evil — ^they  neither  talk,  walk,  act, 
think,  sing,  dance,  smoke,  nor  play.  With  a  loose  coat  or 
cloak  folded  round  them,  they  stand  lounging  about,  bask- 
ing in  the  sun,  or  He  doggishly  on  the  ground — solitary, 
though  in  a  crowd, — and  grave,  though  without  thought. 

I  have  seen  the  Tuscan  peasants  dance  merrily  to  the 
bagpipe,  and  the  Neapolitan  lazzaroni  sing  at  evening  to 
'^  the  light  guitar,"  or  dance  in  rags  on  the  pavement  of  the 
Chiaja.  I  have  heard  that  child  of  pleasure,  the  happy 
Venetian,  forgetful  of  all  his  wrongs  and  sorrows,  carol 
through  the  soft  summer  night  the  melodies  that  endear  to 
him  his  amphibious  countiy;  but  I  have  rarely  seen  the 
Boman  populace  do  anything. 

Dancmg  publicly  on  Sundays  is  not,  indeed,  allowed  at 
Bome,  any  more  tnan  plays  or  operas ;  but  there  are  many 
Festas  when  they  might  dance,  and  do  not ;  nor  do  they 
resort  to  music,  or  any  sort  of  amusement  or  occupation  for 
pleasure. 

The  only  active  diversion  of  the  common  people  here,  is 
one  I  scarcely  know  how  to  "  name  to  oars  pohte."  It  is 
a  sort  of  chase — a  hunting  of  heads — ^not  for  ideas,  but  for 
things  much  more  tangible  and  abundant.  You  see  them 
eagerly  engaged  in  this  pursuit  on  a  Sunday,  or  Festa, 
sitting  at  their  doors  or  windows,  or  in  the  open  streets ; 
often  three,  one  above  another,  the  middle  one  at  once 
hunting  and  being  hunted.  I  remember  the  Portuguese, 
even  those  of  the  higher  orders,  used  to  follow  the  same 
sport. 

The  middle  classes  dawdle  about  the  streets,  or  the  pro- 
menade on  the  Trinita  de'  Monti,  in  a  dull,  torpified  sort 
of  state,  not  seeming  to  snail  along  with  any  sensation  or 
hope  of  enjoyment,  but  because  they  cannot  tell  what  else 
to  do  with  themselves. 

The  women  of  this  shopkeeper  class  are  sometimes  dressed 
most  ludicrously  fine :  satin  gowns  of  all  colours,  and  often 
white,  trailing  about  the  dM^  streets,  and  thin  pink  or 
yellow  slippers,  sticking  fast  m  the  mud ;  their  necks,  and 


Digitized  by 


Google 


nrDOUENCE  OF  THE  EOMANS.  237 

often  tlieir  heads  bare.  The  ladies  of  Eome,  and  indeed 
throiigliout  Italy  (by  ladies,  I  mean  exclusively  the  nobil- 
ity), never  walk,  never  ride  on  horseback,  and  never  move 
but  in  a  carriage.  Indeed,  the  men  rarely  walk,  and  still 
more  rarely  ride.  The  only  time  I  ever  remember  seeing  a 
Eoman  nobleman  on  horseback,  he  tumbled  off. 

The  country  around  Borne,  perhaps  abounds  more  in 
game  than  any  other  part  of  the  civilized  world,  yet  no 
Iloman  is  ever  seen  to  engage  in  any  description  of  field- 
sports.  Many  of  the  English  gentlemen  have  gone  from 
hence  to  the  mountains,  to  chase  the  wild  boar ;  but  the 
Eomans  never  hunt  now.  The  days  when  even  the  distant 
echoes  of  the  lake  of  Bolsena  rang  with  the  horns  of  Leo  X. 
and  his  jovial  Cardinals,  are  indeed  gone  by ;  and  though 
such  diversions  may  not  be  very  becoming  in  a  Pope,  they 
are  very  proper  for  a  prince. 

But  the  Eoman  nobility  hunt  not,  shoot  not,  read  not, 
write  not,  think  not. — What  then  do  they  do  ? — ^Why — 

-through  the  dull  nnyaried  round  of  life, 


They  keep  the  joyless  tenor  of  their  way.** 

Sunk  in  indolence,  they  perhaps  dawdle  through  the  fore- 
noon with  their  damayhke  duteous  cavalieri  serventi;  and 
in  the  afternoon,  daily  do  these  unfortunates  meander  up 
and  down  the  Corso  in  their  carriages,  for  two  mortal  hours, 
just  before  dark,  when  the  evening  is  setting  in  cold  and 
gloomy.  There  is  some  sense  in  this  in  summer,  but  none, 
that  1  can  discover,  in  the  dead  of  winter.  I  have  often 
seen  young  Italian  noblemen  performing  this  dowager-like 
airing,  shut  up  alone  in  a  coach.  On  Festas,  not  only  all 
the  nobles  who  have  carriages,  but  all  the  bourgeois  who 
can  hire  them  for  the  occasion,  drive  up  and  down  the  Corso, 
at  this  fashionable  hour,  dressed,  of  course,  as  fine  as  they 
can  make  themselves;  for  the  sole  diversion  must  consist 
in  seeing  and  in  being  seen, —  in  furtherance  of  which 
laudable  end  they  generally  appear  in  open  carriages,  in 
defiance  of  the  cold  winter  tramontana*  and  wear  their 
heads  and  necks  uncovered.      Often  when  I  have  been 

*  The  north-west  wind,  which  blows,  as  its  name  implies,  from  the 
Alps.    It  is  the  mitigated  hue  of  Switzerland. 


Digitized  by 


Google 


238  BOHX. 

BUvering  in  mj  furs,  I  have  seen  the  Boman  beSles  at 
night-fall  sitting  motionless  in  open  carriages,  exposed  to 
the  cutting  bhut,  in  this  open  drawing-room  costume.  A 
drawing-room  costume,  however,  here  it  is  not ;  for,  in  the 
evening  conversazione,  a  large  bonnet  is  the  usual  head- 
dress, and  it  often  appears  with  an  exposed  neck.  In 
general,  indeed,  it  is  only  in  the  grand  accctdemie  of  muaic 
or  dancing,  which  are  equivalent  to  our  private  balls  and 
concerts,  that  the  sWle  of  evening  dress  to  which  we  are 
habitually  used  in  TJnglaud  is  seen.  But  these  grand  en* 
tertaiiunents  are  rare,  and  even  the  humbler  conversazione 
is  far  &om  common ;  so  that  in  a  town  where  there  is  no 
theatre,  or  place  of  public  amusement,  except  during  the 
Carnival,  and  where  dmner  and  supper  parties  are  unknown, 
nothing  can  be  conceived  more  unsocial,  or  more  ghomik^ 
domestic,  than  the  habits  of  the  nobility  of  Bome. 

It  is  more  certain,  that  before  the  spoliations  and  heavy 
contributions  arbitrarily  levied  upon  them  by  the  Erendi, 
by  which  numbers  of  ancient  families  were  reduced  to  com- 
plete beggary,  and  almost  aU  to  comparative  indigence, 
their  lives  were  much  gayer,  and  their  intercourse,  both 
with  each  other  and  with  strangers,  much  more  frequent 
and  unconstrained.  To  this,  not  only  the  Eomans  them- 
selves, but  many  of  our  English  friends  who  have  been  at 
!Bome  at  different  periods  (from  fourteen  to  thirty  years 
back),  and  are  now  revisiting  it,  bear  witness.  It  certainly 
seems  strange,  that  even  poverty  should  put  an  end  to 
society  that  costs  nothing ;  for  in  the  few  Iloman  conver- 
versazioni  that  still  remain  (the  wrecks  of  happier  days), 
no  refreshment  whatever,  not  even  a  glass  of  eau  sucree^  is 
ever  offered.  But  the  pomp  of  long  trains  of  liveried 
menials;  without  which  the  proud  Eoman  will  not  open  hia 
house,  few  can  boast,  and  many  have  no  houses  to  open. 
Their  palaces  are  let  to  strangers,  conveii^d  into  shops 
or  cafes,  half  shut  up,  or  wholly  abandoned.  In  general, 
the  poor  duke,  count,  or  marquis, — ^the  poorest  denizen  of 
his  own  palace, — inhabits  some  mean  apartment  in  the 
attics,  among  obscurity,  dirt,  pride,  penury,  and  wretched- 
ness. 

Even  among  those  noble  families  whose  once  princely 


Digitized  by 


Google 


SOCIETY  AT  BOMS. 

revenues,  however  dnainished,  are  still  considerable,  not 
even  the  outward  semblance  of  cordiaHtj,  or  the  hoUowness 
of  the  courtesies  of  polished  life,  seems  to  exist ;  but  cold 
repulsive  distrust  and  dislike  are  openly  manifested. 

Ancient  feuds  and  jealousies  seem  to  have  abated  nothing 
of  their  bitterness ;  and  in  the  recent  changes  and  revolu* 
tions,  new  ones  have  been  engendered.  £eal  or  imaginary 
wrongs,  political  differences,  private  pique  and  quarrels, 
envy,  jealousy,  and  suspicion,  have  combined  to  alienate 
these  few  &om  each  other. 

Almost  the  only  Boman  house  now  which  is  regularly 

XI  for  a  conversazione  in  the  old  style,  and  to  wmch  all 
have  been  introduced  have  a  general  invitation,  is  that 
of  the  Duchess  di  Fiano,  a  woman  of  considerable  spirit  and 
talent,  who  is  wise  enough  not  to  forego  the  pleasures  of 
society,  because  she  has  lost  those  of  opulence.  She  re- 
ceives company  on  the  evenings  of  the  two  ordinary  weekly 
Festas,  Sunday  and  Thursday.  Thursday,  being  before 
these  two  days  of  mortification  (Friday  and  Saturday),  is 
considered  a  fsatma ;  but  Sunday,  being  after  them,  is  a 
grand  Eesta. 

This  lady  contrives  to  make  her  parties  tolerably  pleasant, 
without  music,  dancing,  cards,  books,  prints,  amusements, 
or  refreshments  of  any  sort.  It  is  liteiaUy  a  cotweraazione  ; 
for  there  is  nothing  else  to  be  had,  and  not  always  even 
that.  Whether  it  is  from  the  perversitv  of  human  nature, 
that  people  are  always  less  inclined  to  what  thiy  are  obliged 
to  do,  or  not,  I  cannot  say,  but  sometimes  the  conversation 
languishes,  and  I  have  serious  apprehensions  that  we  shall 
aU  begin  to  yawn  in  each  other's  fsices.  One  advantage  is, 
that  one  need  never  stay  above  ten  minutes,  if  it  should 
wear  this  dull  aspect,  but  drive  off  in  search  of  something 
better.  Pew  Eomans  are  to  be  seen  at  these  parties,  but 
all  the  ambassadors  and  distinguished  foreigners  of  all  coun- 
tries. Of  late  there  has  been  a  great  intermixture  of 
English. 

Thepensieri  ttretH  are  certainly  the  ruling  principle  of 
Italian  society.  The  set  bows  and  unmeaning  compliments, 
the  form  and  parade,  the  restraint,  the  finesse,  the  total 
want  of  confidence,  and  of  the  fiow  of  nature  and  feeling, 


Digitized  by 


Google 


240  BOHE. 

take  from  society  its  true  charm,  and  render  it  a  scene 
where  you  perceive  at  once  that  everybody  is  acting  a 
part. 

The  want  of  hospitality  is  also  to  an  Englishman  a  strik- 
ing picture  of  Italian  character.  However  intimate  you 
may  he  with  an  Italian,  however  warm  the  regard  he  pro- 
fesses for  you,  however  often — ^if  he  haa  been  a  traveller — 
he  may  have  been  entertained  at  your  table  in  England,  he 
never  dreams  of  asking  you  to  his.  It  is  common  to  hear 
people  say,  that  *'  Engl^hmen  always  think  there  can  be  no 
society  without  eating  and  drinking."  But  it  is  not  the 
mere  want  of  a  dinner  that  we  miss ;  it  is  the  absence  of 
those  social  feelings,  of  that  hospitable  spirit,  of  all  those 
kindly  overflowings  of  our  nature,  that  lead  us  to  open  oup 
tables,  our  houses,  and  our  hearts,  to  the  Mends  we  love ; 
and  that  makes  the  intercourse  with  Italians  inupid  and 
distasteful  to  an  Englishman. 

Excepting  the  English,  the  foreign  ambassadors  are  the 
only  people  in  Eome  who  have  dinner-parties,  and  they  give 
very  good  entertainments, 

Torlonia — ^now  Duke  Torlonia — ^the  banker,  has  a  weekly 
party,  something  like  an  English  rout ;  and  music  and  gamb- 
ling are  there  the  amusements. 

Twice  a-week,  the  feshionable  world  lounge  through  the 
rooms  of  the  French  ambassador.  Count  Blacas.  There  is 
a  gaming-table  for  those  who  like  to  play,  and  ices  for  those 
who  like  to  eiffc,  and  scandal  for  those  who  like  to  talk.  But 
the  best  parties  in  Borne  are  given  by  a  lady  whose  learn- 
ing and  talents  would  place  her  in  the  first  class  in  any 
country,  and  who  perhaps,  in  habits  and  character,  is  more 
Italian  than  British.     I  mean  the  Duchess  of  Devonshire. 

The  mass  of  English  visitors  give  chiefly  to  the  English 
such  parties  at  Eome  as  they  would  give  in  London,  only 
on  a  smaller,  duller,  meaner  scale.  At  these  there  are  few 
foreigners,  excepting  a  certain  Cardinal,  who  goes  every- 
where, and  is  a  great  flirt  of  the  English  ladies,  and  per- 
haps some  half  dozen  of  different  nations  besides. 

Occasionally,  the  Austrian,  Neapolitan,  Portuguese,  and 
French  ambassadors,  open  their  houses  for  a  grand  ricevi- 
mentOf  or  accademia  of  music,  or  dancing,  and  these  are  at- 


Digitized  by 


Google 


BOMAir  SOCIETT.  241 

tended  by  many  of  the  Eoman  nobles  and  Cardinals.  But 
at  the  first  sound  of  the  dance,  the  red-logged  race  must 
yanish,  like  evil  spirits  at  the  crowing  of  the  cock.  One 
great  cause  of  the  stagnation  of  society  in  Borne,  is  evidently 
the  want  of  the  lead  and  impulse  of  its  head.  A  court 
which  has  its  fetes  in  the  church,  instead  of  the  drawing- 
room,  can  be  no  promoter  of  gaiety ;  and  the  princely  priests, 
who  form  its  members,  can  now  give  no  entertainments, 
because  they  can  now  receive  no  ladies.  Besides,  where 
ladies  do  not  reign,  the  spirit  of  society  is  wanting. 

I  have,  however,  spent  many  delightful  hours  in  the  se- 
lect circles  of  those  who  neither  derive  their  consideration 
firom  rank  nor  fortune ;  and  where  I  have  rarely  seen  any 
English  &^  except  my  own.  I  speak  of  Eoman  fomiUes, 
as  well  as  foreigners. 

Lucien  Buonaparte  receives,  in  the  evening,  in  his  own 
family  circle,  without  form,  a  select  few,  who  have  been  pai> 
ticularly  presented  to  him ;  and  those  who  have  once  felt 
the  charm  of  that  chosen  society,  will  not  easily  relinquish 
it.  His  sister,  the  Princess  Pauline,  sees  only  her  particu- 
lar friends;  and  perhaps  more  gentlemen  than  laaies  are 
included  among  them. 

Eome,  from  its  peculiar  attractions,  must  always  be  the 
chosen  resort  of  the  most  enlightened  strangers,  as  it  is  the 
permanent  residence  of  many  men  of  the  first  genius  of  the 
age.  It  therefore  possesses,  to  a  certain  degree,  some  of 
the  best  elements  of  society ;  and  yet  it  must  be  owned, 
that  neither  Borne,  nor  any  part  of  Italy,  can  boast  the 
splendour  or  brilliancy  of  the  first  circles  of  London,  or 
even  of  Paris.  The  tone  of  Fashion,  fortune,  high-bred  ease, 
and  polished  gaiety,  is  wanting.  The  framing  of  the  pic- 
ture IS  not  good. 

A  traveller  always  exposes  himself  to  suspicion,  who  cen- 
sures the  society  of  the  country  which  he  visits.  Even  by 
his  own  countiymen  he  is  thought  an  illiberal  and  preju- 
diced— or,  at  best,  an  incompetent  judge.  Whereas,  he  who 
praises,  obtains  at  an  easy  rate,  a  reputation  for  candour, 
liberality,  and  discernment.  Fully  sensible  of  this,  and  of 
the  invidious  nature  of  the  office  1  am  undertaking,  I  still 
must,  if  I  am  to  speak  at  all,  speak  what  I  think.    "We  nar 

VOL.  II.  E 


Digitized  by 


Google 


242  ROME. 

turally,  wherever  we  go,  compare  the  state  of  society  and 
maimers  to  those  of  our  own  country,  and  that  oomparison, 
I  must  say,  tends  much  to  the  disadyantage  of  Italy. 

From  the  false  inferences  and  egregious  misconceptions 
into  which  many  enlightened  foreigners  have  &llen  in  judg- 
ing of  English  manners,  I  feel  considerable  diffidence  in 
censuring  those  of  other  countries;  but  prolonged  expe- 
rience, and,  I  think,  impartial  observation,  have  only  shown 
me,  in  more  glaring  colours,  the  general  corruption  of 
manners,  and  contempt  of  moral  duties,  which  reign  in  this 
country.  I  have  endeavoured  to  divest  myself  of  my 
EngHsh  prejudices,  but  there  are  some  no  l&glishwonaan 
can  wish  to  get  rid  of.  Accustomed,  from  our  earliest 
infancy,  to  all  the  refinements  of  social  life,  to  delicacy  of 
sentiment,  propriety  of  conduct,  and  a  high  sense  of  moral 
rectitude,  their  violation  shocks  our  habits,  our  principles, 
and  even  our  taste.  It  seems  to  me  that  the  low  standard 
of  morals  here  degrades  manners  alsp. 

In  the  manners  and  habits,  in  the  very  air  of  the  Italian 
ladies,  there  is  a  want  of  elegance  and  delicacy.  A  certain 
grossness  and  vulgarity  of  mind  seem  to  adhere  to  them  in 
all  they  do  and  say.  They  encourage  liberties  of  speech 
which  would  offend  and  disgust  our  countrywomen ;  and  the 
strain  of  imiform  gallantry,  hyperbolical  flattery,  and  un- 
adulterated nonsense  of  the  worst  description,  in  which  the 
men  usually  address  them,  and  which  they  seem  to  like  and 
expect,  is  a  very  decisive  proof  of  the  difference  between  the 
female  character  here  and  in  England.  Until  a  very  decided 
change  take  place  in  that  of  the  Italian  women,  there  can  be 
no  improvement  in  the  society  at  large ;  and  I  look  upon 
the  system  of  cavaUeri  serventi  to  be  destructive  of  the 
morals,  the  usefulness,  and  the  respectability  of  the  female 
character. 

It  is  true,  that  it  is  considered  necessary  here,  if  a  lady 
visit  at  all,  that  she  should  be  attended  by  her  eavaliere 
gervente;  and  if  her  husband  should  escort  her,  she  would 
inevitably  be  laughed  at, — ^but  who  are  the  imposers  of  this 
necessity,  and  who  the  raisers  of  the  Lmgn?  It  is  the 
ladies  themselves.  The  cause  of  this  vile  system  may  be 
easily  found  in  tiie  s^  more  odious  one  of  marriages  1>eing 


Digitized  by 


Google 


ITALIAN  lOJtBIAGES.  243 

made  an  afiaar  of  mere  conyenience, — a  bargain  transacted 
by  the  parents  or  guardians ;  the  inclinations  of  the  parties 
thus  disposed  of,  rarely,  if  ever,  beiBg  consulted.  It  some- 
times happens  that'  they  are  betrothed  in  infancy;  and 
sometimes  the  whole  treaty  is  concluded  without  their  even 
meeting.  I  know  an  instance  in  which  the  sposa  was  intro- 
duced to  her  future  lord  and  master,  for  the  first  time,  the 
day  before  the  nuptial  ceremony  took  place.  Nor  is  it  only 
young  people  dependent  upon  the  will  of  their  parents,  who 
are  thus  tied  together  for  life.  A  yoimg  nobleman  of  my 
acquaintance,  completely  his  own  master,  and  possessed  of  a 
reasonable  share  of  sense,  and  abundance  of  self-will  about 
other  things,  lately  passively  took  a  woman  whom  his  Mends 
singled  out  for  mm  as  a  suitable  match,  nerer  dreaming  of 
choosing  for  himself. 

A  man  ma^  fall  in  love  and  marry,  in  Italy,  but  it  is  a 
rare  occurrence.  Both  sexes  genially  marry  without  love, 
and  love  without  manying.  With  sucn  unions,  it  is  evident 
there  cannot  be  much  domestic  happiness.  The  lady,  sooner 
or  later,  looks  out  for  a  cavaUere  servente.  This  privilege, 
indeed,  is  not,  as  has  been  pretended,  stipulated  in  the 
marriage-contract,  for  that  would  be  cjuite  unnecessary, — ^no 
husband  ever  dreams  of  opposing  this  just  right ;  and  if  he 
did,  he  would  be  exposed  to  univCTsal  derision.  In  general, 
he  seems  quite  reconciled  to  it,  and  the  lady,  the  cavaliere, 
and  the  husband,  harmoniously  form  what  a  witty  friend  of 
mine  once  called  an  eqmlatero  tnangolo.  The  only  thing 
that  surprises  me  in  Italy  is,  that  there  ever  should  be  such 
a  thing  as  a  husband  at  all.  Such  things  are,  however,  and 
the  poor  man  often  consoles  himself  by  choosing  a  lady  to 
his  own  taste,  and  becoming  the  ca/oaUere  servente  of  some 
other  man's  wife ;  or,  dislilong  the  shackles  of  this  servitude, 
he  amuses  himself  with  more  general  gallantry,  or  more 
varied  intrigues.  Indeed,  if  the  husband's  lot  be  hard,  that 
of  the  cavaliere  servente  is  harder  siill.  How  the  Italian 
ladies  get  any  man  to  submit  to  it,  is  to  me  incompre- 
hensible. I  am  certain  no  Englishman  could  be  made  into 
one  for  a  single  week,  by  any  art  or  contrivance.  These 
unfortunate  creatures  must  submit  to  all  their  mistress's 
humours,  and  obey  all  h^  commands, — ^run  up  and  down 

B  2 


Digitized  by 


Google 


244  lioxn, 

wherever  she  directs  them,  tie  her  shoe,  cany  her  kp-dog  or 
pocket-handkerchief,  flirt  her  fen,  and  flatter  her  vanity ;  be 
constant  in  their  attendance  on  her  morning  toilet,  her 
evening  airing,  and  her  nightly  opera.  He  must  retire 
before  dinner, — ^for  she  and  her  caro  sposo  dine  tete-a-tete, 
and  he  must  return  after.  Sometimes  one  lady  has  two  or 
three  of  these  poor  animals,  whom  she  distinguishes  by 
different  degrees  of  favour,  but  in  general  one  is  the  stated 
allowance;  and  constancy  to  her  cavaliere  is  considered 
highly  praiseworthy,  though  attachment  to  her  husband  is 
only  laughed  at ;  I  am  serious  in  asserting  that  it  is  laughed 
at, — I  mean,  that  a  woman  who  has  no  cavaliere  servente  at 
all,  and  makes  her  husband  her  companion  and  protector,  is 
despised  and  ridiculed  by  aU  her  female  acquaintance.  The 
instances  are  indeed  rare. 

I  am,  however,  &r  from  intending  to  insinuate  that  th(^ 
connexion  between  a  lady  and  her. cavaliere  servente  is 
always,  or  even  generally,  of  a  criminal  nature.  But  I  will 
say,  that  nobody  can  prove  that  it  is  innocent.  "We  may 
charitably  believe  that  she  is  virtuous ;  but  we  cannot  feel 
the  same  certainty  of  the  puriijr  of  her  character  as  we  do 
of  that  of  an  Englishwoman,  who  has  no  such  connexion. 
The  Mr  Italian  admits  him  at  all  hours,  constantly  asso- 
ciates with  him,  exacts  unremitting  attention  from  hun,  and 
lays  herself  under  daily,  and  often  pecuniary,  obligations  to 
him.  She  may  be  innocent ;  but  we  also  feel  it  is  possible 
she  may  not.  Yet,  granting  the  connexion,  to  be  purely 
platonic,  is  it  likely  to  be  conducive  to  domestic  happiness, 
or  female  respectability,  that  a  woman  should  allow  her 
time,  thoughts,  and  affections,  to  be  more  devoted  to  her 
lover  than  her  husband ;  that  she  should  take  more  pains  to 
please  him,  and  live  more  in  his  society  ?  or,  grantmg  him 
not  to  be  her  lover,  but  only  her  friend,  is  it  desirable 
that  she  should  have  a  better  and  dearer  friend  than  her 
husband  ?  I  will  not  say  that  the  system  of  cavalieri  ser^ 
venti  is  universal.  There  is  no  rule  without  exceptions. 
But  after  a  two  years'  residence  in  Italy,  and  a  very  general 
acquaintance  among  the  Italians,  I  have  known  very  few 
without  them;  except  brides,  who  as  yet  have  not  chosen 
them,  or  aged  ladies,  who  have  lost  them.    In  the  past, 


Digitized  by 


Google 


DEFHATED  STATE  OF  MOBALS.  245 

present,  or  future  tense,  awalieri  serventi  are  common  to 
them  all. 

But  whatever  may  he  our  opinion  of  the  nature  of  this 
connexion,  and  of  the  virtue  of  the  fair  Italians,  that  of 
their  own  countrymen,  as  well  as  of  aU  the  foreigners  of  all 
nations  whom  I  have  heard  speak  of  them,  is  undeviating 
as  to  their  general  frailty.  Indeed,  to  do  them  justice,  the 
very  pretence  of  virtue  is  often  wanting.  Such  is  the 
general  toleration  of  vice,  that  no  extremes  of  licentiousness, 
however  open, — ^no  amours,  however  numerous  or  notorious, 
— ever,  in  this  country,  exclude  a  woman  from  the  society  in 
which  her  rank  entitles  her  to  move. 

In  the  other  sex  it  is  the  same.  The  most  dishonourahlo 
and  contemptihle  conduct  a  man  can  he  guilty  of,  will  not 
banish  him  from  his  place  in  society.  The  countenance 
thus  given  to  unhlushmg  |)roflieacy,  and  the  indifference, 
perhaps  the  sneers,  with  which  virtue  is  received,  is  one  of 
the  most  painfully  convincing  proofs  of  the  depraved  state 
of  morals. 

The  Italian  noblemen,  for  the  most  part,  are  ill-educated, 
ignorant,  and  illiterate.  I  could  give  some  curious  proofs 
of  this,  but  J  will  content  myself  with  mentioning  one, 
which  I  witnessed  the  other  night  at  the  Opera,  when  half  a 
dozen  dukes,  marquesses,  and  counts,  from  different  parts  of 
Italy,  who  were  in  the  box  with  us,  began  disputing  whether 
Peru,  which  happened  to  be  the  scene  of  the  piece,  was  in 
the  East  Indies,  in  Africa,  or,  as  one  of  them,  for  a  wonder, 
was  inclined  to  think — ^in  America ! 

It  is  not,  however,  so  much  their  want  of  knowledge,  as 
their  want  of  principle,  that  renders  them  despicable.  No 
ennobling  pursuit,  no  honourable  end  of  existence,  gives  its 
useful  stimulus  to  their  lives,  or  energy,  dignity,  and  con- 
sistency, to  their  characters.  In  little  things  as  well  as 
great,  their  conduct  is  mean.  At  a  select  ball  given  by  the 
King  of  Naples  in  the  'Rojsl  Palace,  I  remember  seeing 
nunmers  of  the  pincipal  Neapolitan  nobihtv  who  made  it 
their  sole  occupation  to  stand  beside  the  tables  of  refresh- 
ments, and  pocket  the  cakes  and  sweetmeats  by  large 
handfiils,  as  fast  as  the  servants  brought  them.  Their 
dresses,  for  it  was  a  fancy-dress  ball,  seemed  to  be  com- 


Digitized  by 


Google 


246  BOUE. 

posed  of  large  sacks,  from  the  quaatdty  which  they  con- 
tained. 

In  Sicilj,  at  the  British  mess-table,  some  Mends  of  ours 
were  eje-witnesses  to  the  fact  of  the  silver  spoons  being 
pocketed  by  two  Sicilian  noblemen,  who  dined  there  by 
myitation,  and  this  circumstance  happened  more  than 
once. 

I  might  easily  multiply  instao^es,  but  I  will  only  add, 
that,  in  two  cases  which  came  under  my  own  knowledge 
at  Naples,  two  noblemen  of  the  first  consideration  there, 
cheated  two  English  Mends  of  ours,  to  whom  they  had  let 
a  part  of  their  houses,  ia  the  most  dishonourable  manner. 
One  of  them,  afber  letting  his  rooms,  by  a  written  agree- 
ment, on  the  same  terms  as  those  on  which  the  preening 
occupier  had  rented  them,  pledged  his  solemn  word  of 
honour  that  he  had  received  firom  him  a  much  higher  price 
than,  on  investigation,  it  was  proved  to  be ;  and  the  other, 
with  whom  the  agreement  was  verbal,  repeatedly  sent  back 
the  proffered  monthly  payments,  expressing  a  wish  to  receive 
it  aU  when  our  friend  quitted  his  house ;  at  which  time  he 
demanded  double  the  stipulated  sum,  and  confirmed  his 
assertion  on  oath.  Anything  may  be  proved  at  Naples, 
for  witnesses  regularly  attend  the  courts  to  be  hired  to 
swear  to  any  fact;  and  our  Mend  was  obliged  to  pay  this 
iniquitous  demand. 

Another  Italian  nobleman  swindled  one  of  our  country- 
men out  of  a  large  sum  of  money,  in  a  still  more  dishonour- 
able way;  and  though,  notwithstanding  the  frequent  in- 
stances I  have  seen  of  them,  I  would  stiQ  hope  that  such 
instances  and  such  characters  are  not  common,  yet  the  hct 
of  these  men,  and  such  as  these,  being  received  into  society, 
is  a  proof  of  that  extreme  laxity  of  morals,  that  want  of  high 
feelings  of  honour,  and  that  lamentable  toleration  of  vice, 
which  I  have  already  noticed.  In  England,  afber  such  con- 
duct, would  men  be  received  into  society  at  all ;  or,  indeed, 
could  England  produce  men  of  birth  and  family  capable  of 
such  conduct  ? 

I  know,  however,  some  Italian  noblemen  incapable  of  a 
dishonourable  action,  and  perfect  gentlemen,  botn  in  man- 
ners and  mind ;  but  I  know  very  few  who  are  not  Mvolous 


Digitized  by 


Google 


THE  MEDICAL  PBOPESSIOIT.  247 

and  dissipated^  to  the  neglect  of  private  duties  and  moral 
restraints. 

One  great  defect  in  the  constitution  of  society  on  the 
continent,  is  the  want  of  the  order  of  commons,  that  middle 
rank  which  links  together  by  insensible  gradations  the  high 
and  the  low,  and  di&ses  propriety,  cultivation,  and  honour* 
able  ambition  through  all.  From  the  want  of  this,  the 
privilege  of  nobility  is  tenaciously  preserved,  and  injudi- 
ciously extended.  Every  son  of  a  count  is  also  a  count,  and 
all  his  son's  sons  are  counts  also.  These  nobles  follow  no 
plebeian  profession;  the  church  and  the  army  alone  are 
open  to  them;  there  is  no  navy;  commerce,  the  source  of 
the  wealth  and  greatness  of  Italy,  is  extinct ;  or,  at  least, 
v^chat  remains,  is  generally  carried  on  by  foreigners,  never 
by  native  nobles.  Bankers  sometimes  become  noblemen, 
but  noblemen  seldom  become  bankers. 

Medicine  is  not  considered  the  profession  of  a  gentleman, 
and  is  most  injudiciously  despised :  for  common  sense  would 
surely  dictate,  that  those  to  whom  we  entrust  our  life  and 
health,  should  have  every  advantage  of  education,  character, 
and  respectability;  and  that  such  an  office  should  not  be 
filled  by  men  of  low  birth,  limited  means,  and  dubious  repu- 
tation. In  small  towns,  the  physician  is  chosen  by  the  cor- 
poration, firom  whom  he  receives  a  small  salary,  and  his 
patients  pay  him  nothing ;  though  it  is  customary  to  send 
him  a  smaU  annual  present-  If  discontented  with  their  own, 
they  are  at  Ml  liberty  to  have  the  physician  of  any  neigh- 
bouring town,  whom  then  they  must  remunerate;  and  as 
there  is  a  hope  of  such  employments,  and  of  being  chosen  to 
fill  a  more  lucrative  situation,  or  condotta,  as  it  is  called,  the 
spur  of  interest  is  not  wanting.  In  capitals,  of  course, 
every  practitioner  sets  up  for  himself,  and  all  have  a  train  of 
young  pupils,  who,  like  G-il  Bias  and  Doctor  Sangrado,  are 
taught  to  kill  according  to  their  master's  recipe;  and  in 
due  season  these  tyros  are  generally  elected  physicians  to 
country  places, — or  go  in  condotta,  as  they  call  it — unless 
they  choose  to  remain  in  the  metropolis,  i  do  not  mean  to 
say  that  there  are  not  men  of  great  medical  skill  and  science 
in  Italy,  but — ^I  speak  fix)m  the  information  of  better  judges 
than  myself-— the   general  standard  is  far  below  tlmt  of 


Digitized  by 


Google 


248  BOMB. 

England ;  nor  is  the  profession  at  all  pursued  by  the  first 
classes. 

Law  is  much  more  respected,  and  consequently  more 
respectable  than  medicine.  Eveij  small  town  always  elects 
it&podestay  who  is  changed  trienniaUy,  lest  he  should  imbibe 
pamalities. 

Thus  debarred  by  custom,  &om  useful  and  respectable 
professions,  the  younger  sons,  and  the  whole  numerous  race 
of  poor  nobles  in  Italy,  have  often  recourse  for  subsistence 
to  a  state  of  the  most  humiliating  servility  and  dependence, 
to  fawning,  flattery,  and  cavaHen^ervenH-abiip, — and  to  arts 
and  employments,  I  am  afraid,  even  worse  than  these. 

There  is  a  lamentable  want  of  true  dignity  and  of  proper 
pride  among  the  Italian  nobles.  They  "will  not  practise 
useful  employments;  but  too  often  stoop  to  base  actions. 
Counts,  in  fall  dress,  often  come  to  you  a-begging;  and 
Marcheses,  with  lace  veils  and  splendid  necklaces,  will 
thankfully  accept  half-a-crown.  A  woman  dressed  very  ex- 
pensively begged  of  us  the  other  day  in  the  streets,  and  we 
nave  had  several  visits  &om  men  of  rank,  soliciting  charity. 
It  may  be  said  of  them,  that  "  they  cannot  dig,  but  to  beg 
they  are  not  ashamed.** 

Generally  speaking,  the  fair  Italians  are  certainly  not 
women  of  cultivated  minds,  or  fine  accomplishments.  They 
are  occupied  with  pursuits  of  the  most  puerile  vanity ;  they 
carry  their  passion  for  dress  to  the  most  ruinous  extrava- 
gance, and  are  victims  of  languor,  indolence,  and  ennui. 
The  Neapolitan  ladies  are  more  addicted  to  gambling  than 
the  Eomans ;  though  there  are  some  here  entirely  given  up 
to  it,  and  on  whose  countenances  I  read,  at  the  nightly  faro 
table,  the  deadly  passion  of  their  souls. 

The  Italian  ladies  scarcehr  ever  nurse  their  children,  or 
attend  to  their  education.  The  boys  are  instructed  at  home 
by  some  domestic  chaplain,  or  placed  in  public  seminaries. 
The  girls  are  either  brought  up  at  home,  where  they  have 
no  proper  governess — and  their  mothers  are  seldom  qua- 
lified, and  still  more  rarely  disposed  to  ftdfil  the  office ;  or 
else  they  are  educated  in  convents  by  nuns,  who  are  too 
often  ignorant,  prejudiced,  and  bigoted,  and  perhaps  less 
'^^ed  for  the  important  task  of  forming  the  female  charao- 


Digitized  by 


Google 


ITALIAN  WOMEBT.  249 

ter  than  any  other  class  of  women :  they  escape  from  this 

fjloomy  prison  to  the  world,  without  having  formed  a  taste 
or  any  rational  pursuits  or  domestic  pleasures ;  are  married 
to  some  man  chosen  for  them  by  their  parents,  and  to  whom 
they  must  consequently  be  indifferent; — and  what  better 
can  be  expected  from  them  ? 

The  exclusion  of  young  unmarried  women  from  society 
in  this  couniry,  deprives  it  of  one  of  its  greatest  charms. 
I  am  ready,  indeed,  to  own,  that  too  many  young  ladies, 
just  come  out,  weigh  at  times  somewhat  heavily  on  a  party 
in  our  own  country;  but  conceive  what  a  blank  the  ab- 
sence of  the  whole  would  make,  and  you  will  better  un- 
derstand the  variety,  and  interest,  and  animation  they  give 
to  it!       - 

Though  the  fair  sex  in  this  coimtry  are  generally  ex- 
tremely ignorant,  there  are  certainly  many  very  learned 
women  in  Italy;  so  learned,  that  here,  where  there  is  no 
literary  Salic  law,  the  chairs  in  the  university  have  often, 
both  in  past  and  present  times,  been  filled  by  female  pro- 
fessors. Signora  Tambroni,  late  professor  of  Greek  in  the 
university  of  Bologna,  only  died  within  these  few  months, 
though  she  retired  from  her  situation  a  few  years  ago ;  nor 
was  she  less  remarkable  for  her  piety  and  excellence  than 
for  her  uncommon  attainments. 

"With  a  few  bright  exceptions,  however,  it  unfortunately 
happens,  that  the  class  of  literary  women  in  Italy  are  too 
violently  Mteraij.  The  blues  are  too  deep  a  blue.  They 
are  either  wholly  unlearned,  or  overpoweringly  learned. 
A  taste  for  hterature  is  not  generally  diffused  and  inter- 
mingled with  other  pursuits  and  pleasures,  as  in  England ; 
it  is  confined  to  a  few,  and  reigns  m  them  without  control. 
Neither  does  the  love  of  letters  exclude  the  love  of  adula- 
tion. Their  vanity  is  of  a  different  cast,  but  not  less  in- 
satiable than  that  of  the  other  fair  Italians.  They  entertain 
you  too  much  with  talking  of  their  works,  or  repeating  their 
ovm  compositions ;  and  their  houses  are  generally  infested 
by  a  herd  of  male  scribblers,  who  make  mrge  demands  on 
the  patience  and  applause  of  their  auditors,  by  reading  or 
recitmg  their  various  works  in  verse  or  prose ;  and  bepraise 
each  other,  that  they  may  be  praised  themselves. 


Digitized  by 


Google 


250  BO^IE. 

I  liaye  spoken,  somewhat  too  mncli  at  length,  perliaps,  on 
the  character  of  the  higher  classes ;  and  I  am  sony  I  eannot 
say  much  for  the  morab  of  the  middle  and  lower  ranks, 
among  whom  truth,  honesty,  and  indizstry,  are  rare  and 
little  prized.  They  will  cheat  if  they  can,  and  they  some- 
times take  more  pains  to  accomplish  this  than  would  have 
enabled  them  to  gain  far  more  by  fair-dealing.  When 
detected  in  falsehood  and  imposition,  they  show  a  wonderful 
degree  of  coolness  and  carelessness^  I  have  met  with 
honest  and  excellent  Italians  in  all  ranks ;  but  I  must  say, 
knavery,  meanness,  and  profligacy,  are  far  more  common. 

The  venality  of  the  people  of  Bome  is,  however,  pro- 
verbial, even  in  Italy.  It  is  a  common  saying,  that  a 
Eoman  *  venderehbe  il  sole  per  cinque  'paoli^  *  would  sell  the 
sun  itself  for  two-pence.' 

Their  indolence,  however,  is,  to  an  Englishman,  the  most 
extraordinary  feature  of  their  character.  I  have  frequently, 
in  asking  for  goods  at  a  shop  in  Eome,  been  answered  with 
a  drawlnig  *^non  c'e,'  even  when  I  saw  them  before  my 
eyes;  and  once  was  actually  told  they  were  too  high  to 
reach !  Nay,  a  shoemaker,  after  getting  through  the  laboup 
of  taking  my  measure,  resigned  my  future  custom,  rather 
than  take  the  shoes  home  at  the  distance  of  two  streets. 
Another,  three  months  ago,  agreed  to  make  me  two  pairs, 
and  still  continues  to  promise  them  '  next  week.' 

The  women  of  these  classes  are  indolent,  useless,  and 
vaiQ.  They  never  seem  employed  about  domestic  cares ;  in 
fact,  the  small  matter  of  cleaning,  which  is  bestowed  upon  a 
house,  is  generally  done  by  men.  It  id  they  who  make  the 
beds  and  dust  the  rooms.  They  cook;  they  clean;  and 
sometimes  even  make  gowns.  I  never  shaJl  forget  my 
astonishment  at  Naples,  in  sending  for  a  dress-maker,  when 
a  man  appeared ;  but  he  professed  his  capacity  for  the  un- 
dertaking. I  was  in  haste,  and  he  stitched  me  up  a  very 
superb  ball-dress  before  night. 

In  Eome,  however,  I  think  the  dressmakers,  and  all  the 
washerwomen,  are  of  the  female  gender.  But  the  Boman 
females  are  really  generally  a  useless  indolent  set ;  slovenly 
and  dirty  in  their  persons  and  dress  at  home,  and  tawdrily 
fine  when  they  go  abroad.    Their  virtue,  I  fear,  cannot  be 


Digitized  by 


Google 


zmmobjllity  or  hiddls  classes.  251 

much  boasted  of,  and,  like  their  superiors,  few  of  them  are 
without  their  lorers  and  their  intrigues.  I  know  the  hand- 
some wife  of  a  substantial  shop-keeper,  who,  with  the 
consent  of  her  husband,  has  been  the  mistress  of  three 
successive  noblemen,  Italian  and  foreign,  and  lived  with 
them.  The  last  sent  her  back  in  disgrace,  on  discovering, 
that  even  in  his  house,  she  had  contrived  to  receive  her  own 
favoured  lover.  The  husband  took  her  back,  and  thej  are 
now  living  together. 

Another  tradesman  makes  over  his  wife  at  this  moment 
to  a  nobleman,  for  a  certain  annual  compensation,  and  yet 
these  men  do  not  seem  to  be  despised  for  it.  These  facts  I 
know  to  be  true,  beyond  the  possibiiity  of  doubt ;  and,  in 
spite  of  their  grossness,  I  mention  them,  because  you  cannot 
otherwise  conceive  the  state  of  morals  in  this  country. 

The  celibacy  of  the  clergy  is  another  cause  of  the  want  of 
virtue  among  the  women;  for,  by  the  perverse  and  un- 
nxitural  institutions  of  the  church,  those  who  ought  to  be 
guardians,  are  too  ofben  in  secret  the  corrupters  of  morals. 
They  thus  strike  at  the  root  and  bond  of  all  morahty ;  for 
the  virtue  of  a  community  will  always  be  found  to  be  in 
proportion  to  the  chastity  of  the  women. 

But  I  began  about  the  Blessing  of  the  Horses,  and  I 
have  been  led,  I  know  not  how,  into  a  long  disquisition  on 
the  morals  and  manners  of  the  Italians. 

Much  more  might  be  said  upon  them,  but  the  subject  is 
not  particularly  pleasant,  where  we  find  so  much  to  censure, 
and  so  little  to  approve.  In  fine,  the  censure  of  Juvenal 
may  still  be  passed  upon  the  Eomans — 


Paupertate  omnes.' 


-  hie  yivimus  ambitiofl& 


Digitized  by 


Google 


252  BOiOE. 


LETTER  LXXXI. 

The  Caxstiyjll. 

Ths  Bomans,  in  throwing  off  the  shackles  of  moral 
restraint,  do  not  seem  to  have  gained  much  gaietj  or  plea- 
sure hy  their  release.      Nothmg   is   more  striking  to   a 
stranger,  than  the  sombre  air  which  marks  every  counten- 
ance, from  the  lowest  to  the  highest  in  £ome.     The  faces 
even  of  the  young  are  rarely  lighted  up  with  smiles ;  a 
laugh  is  seldom  heard,  and  a  merry  countenance  strikes  us 
with  amazement,  from  its  novelty.    £ome  looks  like  a  city 
whose  inhabitants  have  passed  through  the  cave  of  Tropho- 
nius.    Tet,  will  it  be  believed,  that  this  serious,  this  unsmil- 
ing people,  rush  into  the  sports  of  the  Carnival  with  a 
passionate  eagerness  far  surpassing  all  the  rest  of  the 
Italiaas?    Thev  are  madly  fond  of  the  Boman  Catholic 
Saturnalia ;  and,  by  a  strange  annual  metamorphosis,  from 
the  most  grave  and  solemn,  suddenly  become  the  most  wild 
and  extravagant  people  in  the  creation.    It  seems  as  if  some 
sudden  delirium  had  seized  them.    AU  ranks,  classes,  ages, 
and  sexes, — ^under  the  same  intoxication  of  high  spirits, 
parade  the  streets.    The  poor  starve,  work,  pawn,  beg,  bor- 
row, steal, — do  anything  to  procure  a  mask  and  a  dress ;  and 
when  the  beU  of  the  Capitol,  after  mid-day,  gives  licence  to 
the  reign  of  folly  to  commence,  the  most  ridiculous  figures 
issue  forth, — ^wild  for  their  favourite  diversion.     Characters 
they  can  scarcely  be  called,  since  there  is  no  attempt  at  sup- 
porting, or  even  looking  them, — either  in  the  Corso  in  the 
morning,  or  the  Festino  (the  masked  ball)  in  the  evening. 
Their  only  aim  is  to  dress  themselves,  and  "  to  fool  it  to  the 
top  of  their  bent,"  and  they  do  both  to  admiration.     They 
assume  rich,  picturesque,  grotesque,  or  buffoon  costumes, 
according    as    it    is    their    object    to    excite    admiration, 
laughter,  or  love.    They  may  assume  any  disguise  but  what 


Digitized  by 


Google 


THE  CAEKlViX.  253 

is  connected  with  religion  or  government.  They  are  neither 
permitted  to  be  cardinals,  priests,  nuns,  pilgrims,  hermits, 
friars,  magistrates,  or  ministers.  In  general,  the  motley 
multitude  is  made  up  of  indescribable  monsters.  But 
Punch  and  Harlequin  abound.  Pantaloon  is  a  prime 
favourite.  The  Doctor  of  Bologna  is  a  great  man;  and 
Pa^liataccio,  a  sort  of  clown  or  fool,  dressed  all  in  white, 
even  to  the  mask,  is  the  most  popular  of  all.  Turks,  Jews, 
bakers,  cooks,  and  camerieri,  are  common.  The  female 
costumes  of  the  Italian  peasantry,  especially  of  the  vicinity, 
imitated  in  gay  spangled  materials,  are  the  favourite  dress  of 
the  young  women.  Some,  however,  go  as  Jewesses,  because 
then  they  may  accost  whom  they  please,  without  any  breach 
of  decorum.  Many  of  both  sexes  are  dressed  entirely  in 
white,  even  to  the  masks,  with  shepherds'  hats;  many  in 
black  dominos,  their  heads  covered  with  a  black  silk  hood, 
which  is  a  complete  disguise;  and  many, — ^perhaps  the 
majority, — ^wear  no  mask  at  all,  but  appear  in  gay  dresses. 
The  proportion  of  masks  here,  however,  is  far  greater  than 
at  Naples.  When  a  carriage  contains  masks,  the  servants, 
and  sometimes  the  horses,  are  often  masked  also,  and  the 
coachman  generally  appears  in  the  shape  of  an  old  woman. 

The  Carnival  is  just  terminated,  and  we  find  it  as  amusing 
here  as  it  was  stupid  last  year  at  Naples  and  Florence. 
Even  Venice,  I  hear,  has  lost  her  ancient  pre-eminence  in 
its  diversions;  nor  is  it  wonderM  that,  pining  as  she  is 
Tmder  a  mortal  atrophy,  she  should  want  the  spirit  for 
gaiety  now.  Eome  is  the  place  in  which  it  is  now  seen  to 
the  greatest  perfection ;  and  for  a  day  or  two  it  is  really  an 
amusing  scene. 

The  Carnival,  properly  speaking,  begins  after  Christmas- 
day,  and  ends  with  the  commencement  of  Lent,  and  during 
that  period  the  opera  and  theatres  are  licensed;  but  it  is 
only  during  the  last  eight  days, — allowing  for  the  inter- 
Tening  Fri&ys  and  Sun£iy, — ^that  masking  is  allowed  in  the 
streets.  The  Corso  is  the  scene  of  this  curious  revelry :  the 
windows  and  balconies  are  hung  with  rich  draperies  and 
filled  with  gaily  dressed  spectators.  The  Httle  raised  troUoirs 
by  the  side,  are  set  out  with  chairs,  which  are  let,  and  occu- 
pied by  rows  of  masks.    The  street  is,  besides,  crowded  with 


Digitized  by 


Google 


254  BOics. 

pedestrians,  masked  and  unmasked;  and  two  rows  of  carri- 
ages, close  behind  each  other,  make  a  continual  promenade. 
Notwithstanding  the  crowd,  the  narrowness  of  the  slTeet, 
and  the  multitude  of  foot-passengers  intermixed  with  the 
carriages,  no  accident  ever  happens ;  and  though  a  few  of 
the  horse-guards  are  stationed  at  intervals  to  preserve  order, 
and  prevent  the  carriages  from  leaving  then*  line,  I  never 
saw  any  occasion  for  their  interference. 

Both  the  masked  and  unmasked  carry  on  the  war.  by 
pelting  each  other  with  large  handfiils  of  what  ought  to  l)e 
comfits ;  but  these  being  too  costly  to  be  used  in  such  pro- 
fusion, they  are  actually  nothing  more  than  pozzolana  covered 
with  plaster  of  Paris,  and  manufactured  for  the  purpose, 
under  the  name  of  confetti  de  gesso  (plaster  comfits).  TMb 
coating  flies  off  into  hme-dust,  and  completely  whitens  the 
figures  of  the  combatants  ;  but  its  pungency  sometimes  does 
serious  mischief  to  the  eyes. 

Strangers  seldom  attack  you,  but  those  who  know  you,  as 
seldom  let  you  escape ;  and  we,  being  unmasked,  and  in  an 
open  carriage,  were  generally  most  unmercifully  pelted  by 
masked  antagonists.  We  took  care  to  return  the  comph- 
ment  with  interest, — ^abxmdance  of  this  material,  which  may 
be  called  the  wit  of  the  masquerade,  being  on  sale,  so  that 
you  can  never  be  at  loss  for  a  repartee. 

Sometimes,  indeed,  we  were  assailed  by  an  unexpected 
volley  from  some  passing  pedestrian  mask,  on  whom  we 
could  at  the  time,  inflict  no  retaliation ;  but  we  never  fiuled 
to  mark  him  as  a  subject  for  future  retribution,  when  the 
course  of  the  promenade  brought  him  again  within  our 
reach. 

It  often  happens,  in  the  many  steps  of  the  carriages,  that 
two  in  the  opposite  lines  begin  the  assault,  and  quantities  of 
ammunition  being  poured  in,  a  furious  pitched  battle  is  car- 
ried on,  until  the  cavalcade  being  put  in  motion  again, 
separates  the  combatants.  We  sometimes  received  a  dis- 
charge of  real  comfits ;  but  they  came  "  like  angels'  visits, 
few,  and  far  between." 

Half  a  dozen  masks  were  often  hanging  together  on  the 
back  of  our  carriage,  chattering  to  us  iniSl  languages ;  and 
in  many  of  them  we  recognised  our  English  or  foreign 


Digitized  by 


Google 


LA2<rGTJA6E  OT  SIGKS.  255 

acquaintance.  But  tlie  ItaHans  seem  to  commtmicate  with 
each  other  less  by  words  than  signs.  It  is  wonderM  with 
■what  rabidity  and  facility  they  can  cany  on  this  interconrse, 
at  any  visible  distance ;  and  wey  thus  conyerse  through  the 
medium  of  the  eye,  not  the  ear.  Whether  this  custom 
originated  in  that  ancient  jealousy  which  secluded  Italian 
women  so  rigorously  from  society ;  or  in  that  inquisitorial 

fovemment  which  still  renders  freedom  of  sjjeech  dangerous, 
shall  not  inquire ;  but  it  is  certain  that  it  is  a  language  as 
"w^eU  understood  by  aU  Italians  as  their  mother  tongue.  The 
signs  they  use  are  chiefly  made  by  touching  certain  features, 
or  parts  of  the  face  with  the  fingers,  or  the  whole  hand,  in  a 
particular  manner ;  and  they  thus  express  love,  flattery,  sup- 
plication, admiration,  jealousy,  disdain,  aversion,  assent,  dis- 
sent, &c.  These  signs  are  used  by  all  classes,  and  at  all 
time — even  at  church.  At  the  church  of  the  SS.  Apostoli, 
for  example,  which,  on  Sundays,  at  the  last  maes,  is  the 
fashionable  resort  of  the  fine  women  and  intriguing  belles  of 
!Bome,  a  great  deal  of  this  mute  conversation  may  be  seen 
going  forward.  The  demeanour  of  the  ladies,  mdeed,  i» 
there  generally  distinguished  by  no  small  appearance  of 
coquet^  and  flirtation,  while  that  of  the  gentlemen  is 
marked  by  strong  signs  of  devotion  and  adoration — ^which 
are  expressed  in  the  Einguage  of  the  eyes,  and  in  this  stiU 
more  explicit  language  of  signs,  which  is  to  conversation 
exactly  what  short-hand  is  to  writing.  This  species  of 
telegraphic  communication  between  the  sexes  is  so  rapid,  so 
immeaning  in  appearance,  and  yet  so  expressive,  that  it  is 
scarcely  possible  for  the  most  watchful  jealousy  to  prevent, 
or  even  to  detect  it,  if  any  care  be  taken  to  conceal  it.  It 
struck  me  that  more  of  it  goes  on  during  the  Carnival  than 
at  any  other  period. 

Every  day  of  the  masquerade  the  Corso  becomes  more 
crowded  and  more  animated,  tiU,  on  the  last,  the  number 
and  spirit  of  the  masks,  the  skirmishes  of  sweetmeats  and 
Jime-dust,  and  the  shouts  and  ecstacies  of  all,  siu*pass  des- 
cription. 

The  whole  ends  by  exti/nguislimg  the  Carnival.  Just 
before  dark,  all  the  masks  apjjear  with  a  lighted  taper, 
labouring  to  blow  out  their  neighbour's  candle  and  keep 


Digitized  by 


Google 


*.    -^Tir  3.  -lar  TEiiZst  zt  a :  but, 
—  -r:  -    -ae^sz*  -^  -x.  ^vpt  ]anCT«i  ovi- 

-s-^TL    ^RTtlt.    -£ii^    ~7^g"  :?^S^   "i£^»50 

T*"     rr:    vTr-rjss-sis.    I  lai  told 

^       -=ri  :a.    aat^i.  -jy    3^^  »  more 

-: —    t:jl    r    i    i-w^ — oat  CKH^ni 

^*      • '■^r^     ^*-T;;n  "Trr«!^ssirQ5:  and 

^  --Ti       ?*•— ^-^v  3sfc*-aECe^.  ««^  to 

^     a*    ~  ■->  zj--r*-u;.  rns  rair,  one 
■  ~  "  ■         -^-'V^.  :i.     Ir  i;^  eeprered 

azEMss.  or 

^OD  the 

'"-^  y'_  —  '^^^^  lasdkssly 

^7^  ^  t^aL^TntHaaaJl 


-  ..  ^      ^^^"^^^^^^siia^i  V  tke  farce 


Digitized  by 


Google 


256  EOME. 

ill  tlieii^  own.  I  can, easily  believe  thajb  you  cannot  cohceiTe 
the  fun  of  this,  unlesa  you  were  in  thye  midst  of  it ;  but, 
ridiculous  as  it  in9>y  appear,  I  assure  you  we  laughed  our- 
eelves  merry  .at  this  absilrd  scene,  ana  that  great  philoso-* 
pher,  Mr.  .  ■  ,  nearly  went  into  convulsions.  I  am  told 
the  masking  during  the  Carnival  used  to  be  far  more 
splendid  in  former  times  than  it  is  now — ^that  eastern 
monarchs,  followed  by  their  Ethiopian  slaves ;  cars  of  vio- 
tory,  with  laurel-crowned  heroes;  Koma^  processions.;  and 
the  triumph  of  Bacchus,  surrounded  by  Silenus  and  all  his 
crew  of  drunken-  Fauns  and  possessed  Bacchantes,  used  to 
parade  the  Corso.  But  nothing  so  classically  magnificent 
18  now  to  be  seen.  Gn  the  last  day,  indeed,  this  year,  one 
large  car  -  attracted  everybody's  attention.  It  was  covered 
with  tapestry,  and  adorned  with  immense  branches  .of  laur^, 
amongst  wmch  were  seated  eight  or  ten  black  dominos,  or 
demons,  who,  sheltered  by  their  own .  evergreens  firoxn  Ae 
pelting  of  the  pitiless  storm,  dealt  their  fury  mercilessly 
round  in  showers  of  rattling  hml.  We  afterwards  found 
this  car  contained  Prince  Leopold  of  Naples,  with  some 
companions. 

Every  day  of  the  masquerade,  there  is  a  race  run  by  small 
spirited  horses,  without  riders.  Their  impetuosity  in  the 
race,  however,  is  not  so  much  owing  to  their  natural  spirit, 
as  to  the  agony  of  the  goads,  or  balls  covered  with  snarp 
spikes  of  metal,  suspended  from  their  backs,  which  at  every 
motion,  fall  heavily  upon  the  same  spot,  making  large  raw 
gory  circles  over  then*  bodies,  horriole  to  behold.  Some- 
times six  or  eight  ofthiese  goads  are  beating  their  bleeding 
sides  at  once,  and  as  if  this-w^^  not  torment  enough,  fire 
is  likewise  appHed  to  them,  so  that  the  poor  animals,  furious 
under  these  tortures,  often  cannot  be  restrained  by  the  force 
of  eight  or  ten  men,  from  leaping  the  cords  which  confine 
them  at  the  entrance  of  the  Corso.  At  the  discharge  of  a 
cannon,  this  barrier  is  withdrawn,  and  the  whole  competi- 
tors fly  off  at  fuH  speed.  The  course,  which  is  along  the 
CorsOy  and  consequently  paved,  is  about  a  mile  in  length, 
and  the  horses  are  stopped  by  a  piece  of  cloth  which  is 
suspended  across  the  street,  near  the  Yenetian  Palace,  at 
the  Eipresa  de^  Barberi,  so  called  from  Barbary  horses 
being  the  original  racers. 


Digitized  by 


Google 


Digitized  by 


Google 


HOBSE   BACES   OlS  THE   COBSO.  257 

A  little  spirited  English  horse,  never  meant,  however, 
for  a  racer,  won  almost  all  the  prizes,  or  palU,  this  year. 
They  consist  of  a  rich  piece  of  velvet,  furnished  at  the  cost 
of  the  Jews,  who  were  formerly  compelled  to  run  foot-races 
themselves — ^which  afforded  much  christian  diversion  to  the 
populace.  It  often  happens  that  some  of  the  horses  run 
aside  down  other  streets;  and  one  day  the  people  waited 
for  the  race  in  vain,  the  whole  of  the  steeds  having  gone 
off  together  towards  St.  Peter's.  I  was  not  one  of  the 
disappointed ;  having  previously  witnessed  the  races  twice, 
I  was  ever  afterwards  glad  to  get  out  of  the  way.  To  see 
these  poor  animals  thus  wantonly  tortured  and  infuriated 
by  pain,  is  anything  but  a  pleasing  or  humane  spectacle, 
and  one  I  most  certainly  never  wish  to  see  again. 

Priests  are  forbidden  to  join  in  these  revels ;  but  who 
may  be  present  under  the  mask,  I  suppose  would  puzzle 
even  the  Pope's  infallibility  to  find  out.  Occasionally,  how- 
ever, some  curious  discoveries  have  been  made  by  chance. 
In  a  late  Carnival,  the  horses  in  a  hack  carriage,  containing 
two  masks,  becoming  restive,  ran  off  at  full  speed,  threw 
the  coachman  from  his  box,  and  never  stopped  till  they 
overturned  the  vehicle,  near  the  Ponte  Sant'  Angelo.  Both 
the  masks  seemed  to  be  severely  hurt.  The  female,  who 
loudly  bewailed  her  sufferings,  proved  to  be  a  noted  lady 
of  no  very  fair  fame ;  but  her  male  companion,  though  the 
blood  from  his  wounded  head  trickled  down  his  dress,  reso- 
lutely  held  on  his  mask,  refused  to  speak,  and  though  unable 
to  walk,  endeavoured  to  escape  from  the  crowd  that  wanted 
to  assist  him.  At  length  his  mask  was  taken  off  by  force ; 
and  he  proved  to  be  a  Cardinal,  whose  name  I  refram  from 
mentioning. 

There  are  only  three  Mstini,  or  public  masked  balls,  al- 
lowed during  the  Carnival.  They  are  held  in  the  Teatro 
Alberto,  a  large  handsome  sala,  now  only  used  for  this 
purpose.  The  stage  and  pit  are  open  to  the  masks,  and 
dancing  of  quadrilles,  &c.,  goes  on  with  much  decorum; 
though  I  need  hardly  observe,  that  none  above  roturier 
rank  ever  participate  in  this  part  of  the  amusement.  The 
price  of  admittance  is  about  one  shilling  and  sixpence 
!Einglish,  and  you  may  guess  that  the  company  is  not  very 

VOL.  II.  *  8 


Digitized  by 


Google 


258  BOMS. 

select,  when  I  tell  70U  that  our  Italian  servants  were  there. 
Yet  nothing  ever  appears  which  could  offend  the  most  fasti- 
dious deUcacj.  The  higher  orders  have  boxes,  and  are 
generallj  unmasked ;  but  in  the  course  of  the  night,  thejr 
often  walk  about  among  the  people,  and  mix  with  the 
motley  crew,  without  ever  meeting  any  impertinence  or 
unpleasant  adventure. 

There  is  no  attempt  whatever  at  supportiag;  characters, 
and  none  indeed  are  assumed.  They  have  no  idea  of  those 
character  masks,  which  we  consider  the  very  essence  of  a 
masquerade.  The  masks  are  dressed  whimsically,  grotesque- 
ly, laughably,  and  sometimes  tastefully ;  but  they  are  mere 
orosses,  and  they  speak  in  a  false  squeaking  tone,  to  perplex 
each  other,  interchange  compliments,  or  banters,  and  chatter 
abundance  of  nonsense,  but  not  in  character.  No  doubt, 
a  great  deal  of  intrigue  may  go  on,  but  nothing  of  it  is 
seen,  nor  is  there  much  time  for  it,  for  the  Eestino  begins 
at  eight,  and  at  twelve  everybody  is  turned  out,  and  the 
lights  extinguished.  The  omv  attempt  at  characters  was 
made  by  a  few  Englishmen,  who  supported  their  parts  ad- 
mirably, in  our  style.  One,  in  particular,  a  Grub-street 
poet,  was  excellent ;  but  his  ballads,  pinned  about  his  hat, 
nis  elegies,  sonnets,  and  odes,  offered  to  aU,  his  heroic  re- 
citations, his  own  ecstacies  at  their  beauty,  and  his  tattered 
and  beggarly  attire,  seriously  persuaded  some  of  the  Ita- 
lians, to  our  infinite  entertainment,  that  he  was  a  poor  mad 
Endishman,  in  good  earnest ;  and  they  expressed  the  most 
unteigned  compassion  for  him. 

I  must  end  my  account  of  the. Carnival  with  what  I 
ought  to  have  commenced  it,  by  telUng  you  that  its  amuse- 
ments are  uniformly  ushered  in  bjr  a  public  execution.  If 
any  criminals  are  destined  to  condign  punishment,  they  are 
reserved  for  this  occasion ;  and  I  suppose  it  never  happened 
that  some  head  was  not  laid  on  the  block  at  this  &stive 
period.  GPhree  were  guillotined  this  year.  It  is  done  with 
a  view  to  restrain  the  people,  by  the  immediate  terrors  of 
the  example,  from  the  commission  of  crimes,  to  which  the 
lic^ice  of  the  season  may  be  supposed  to  lead.  A  number, 
of  penitents  attended  these  unhappy  criminals  to  the  scaf- 
fol<^  88  well  as  the  pious  brotherhood,  who  make  this  their 


Digitized  by 


Google 


PBOCESSIOKS  OE  PENITEKTS.  259 

peculiar  duty ;  and  both  before  and  after  the  execution,  they 
Degged  alms  to  say  masses  for  their  souls,  to  which  hun- 
dreds, even  of  the  very  poorest  of  the  people,  contributed 
their  mite.  These  processions  of  penitents,  even  during 
the  Carnival,  make  at  times  a  pious,  instead  of  a  profane 
masquerade.  Dressed  in  long  robes  of  sackcloth,  girt  with 
ropes,  their  heads  and  feces  covered  with  hoods,  and  their 
eyes  alone  appeanng  through  holes  cut  for  them,  they  pa- 
rade the  streets,  and  prostrate  themselves  before  the  altar 
in  prayer  that  the  sins  committed  during  this  lawless  season 
may  be  forgiven.  I  am  told,  but  cannot  vouch  for  the  fact, 
that  some  of  the  gayest  and  most  licentious  masks  on  the 
Corse  make  this  preparation  for  the  sins  thev  iutend  to 
commit,  and  perform  subsequent  penance  again  during  Lent, 
in  expiation  of  the  score  they  have  run  up. 

The  Carnival,  iu  its  licence,  its  mirth,  and  its  levelling  of 
rank,  nay,  even  in  its  season,  bears  an  obvious  resembluice 
to  the  Eoman  Saturnalia.  But  it  perhaps  approaches  still 
more  closely  to  the  annual  feast  of  Cybele,*  when,  according 
to  Livy,t  the  richest  draperies  were  hung  from  the  windows, 
masquerading  took  place  in  the  streets,  and  every  one,  dis- 
gruismg  himself  as  he  pleased,  walked  about  the  city  in  jest 
and  biJdSbonery.    This  is  premely  a  modem  Carnival. 

*  The  Gallic  or  priests  of  this  goddess,  seem  to  have  borne  a  cnrions 
resemblance  to  some  of  the  Roman  Catholic  religious  orders.  They 
were  mendicants,  and  under  the  obligation  of  perpetual  celibacy ;  in 
short,  begging  friars.  There  is  a  bas-relief  in  the  Capitol  which  repre- 
sents one  of  these  priests  with  a  scourge  in  his  hand ;  so  that  it  would 
seem  flagellation  was  also  practised  amongst  them  as  a  religious  virtue. 

f  Livy,  lib.  zxix.  cap.  14.  It  took  place  on  the  27th  March,  when 
the  simukcrum,  or  image  of  the  goddess  that  fell  from  heaven,  was 
nrashed  in  the  Almo. 


Digitized  by 


Google 


260  BOMl. 


LETTER  LXXXn. 
Music  aito  the  Dsama. 

I  CAME  to  Italy  expecting  to  find  it  the  land  of  song,  to 
hear  music  wafted  in  every  gale,  and  every  valley  vocal  with 
harmony.  Grreat  has  been  my  disappointment.  I  have  not 
only  heard  very  little  good  music,  but  very  little  music  at 
aU.  During  the  whole  course  of  the  eighteen  months  that 
have  now  nearly  elapsed  since  I  first  set  foot  in  Italy, 
during  all  my  travels  through  the  country,  and  my  residence 
in  the  towns,  the  sound  of  music  has  seldom  met  my  ear 
unsought.  I  find  it,  indeed,  as  in  all  great  cities — in  public 
theatres,  in  crowded  assemblies,  and  stately  drawing-rooms ; 
but  it  is  not  the  spontaneous  "  voice  of  the  people." 

In  their  constantly  recurring  festas,  when  the  streets  are 
thronged  day  after  day  with  a  listless  loitering  crowd,  the 
sound  of  music  is  seldom  or  never  heard.  It  does  not 
beguile  these  long  days  of  idleness,  nor,  as  among  the 
Spaniards,  the  Portuguese,  and  the  G-ermans,  is  it  resorted 
to  after  the  hours  of  labour,  to  charm  away  their  evening 
cares.  Even  the  artisan,  plying  his  daily  task,  and  "the 
spinners  in  the  sun,"  as  they  sit  at  their  doors,  twirliag  the 
slow  thread  on  the  distaff  and  spindle,  are  never  heard 
singing  at  their  work. 

The  first  music  that  saluted  me  at  Eome,  and  that  was 
after  I  had  lived  nearly  a  month  in  it,  was  the  bagpipe- 

I  was  awakened  one  night  from  a  feverish  slumber  by  the 
well-known  drone  of  that  mellifluous  instrument.  I  ima- 
gined, that  being  in  a  fever,  I  was  also  in  a  delirium ;  but  it 
was  by  no  means  an  ecstatic  delusion,  and  these  real,  or 
imaginary  national  tones,  were  so  far  from  proving  a  treat 
to  my  ungratified  ears,  that  when  a  second  bagpipe  set  up 
its  throat,  and  a  third  joined  in  the  droning  chorus,  1 
thought  I  should  have  gone  distracted. 


Digitized  by 


Google 


I 


ITINEEANT  MUSICIAKS.  261 

The  next  night  the  same  horrible  disturbance  was  re- 
peated ;  and  now  convinced  it  was  only  too  real,  I  found, 
upon  making  inquiry,  that  numbers  of  Zampoffnari,  or  Pi/%- 
Tori,  as  these  bagpipers  are  called,  aonuaUy  come  up  from 
Campania  before  Christmas,  to  play  hymns  upon  then:  bag- 
ipes  to  the  Virgin,  who*,  if  she  has  any  ear  for  music,  must 
e  nearly  deafened  with  this  piece  of  their  courtesy. 

The  serenades  that  had  broken  my  rest,  I  found  were 
addressed  to  a  Madonna  immediately  below  my  bedroom 
-windows,  and  for  many  a  night,  or,  as  they  call  it,  morning 
(about  four  o'clock),  did  these  pious  pipers  continue  to 
drone  out  their  strains  to  this  stony  image,  whose  deafness 
and  insensibility  I  was  tempted  to  envy. 

The  bagpipe,  as  my  more  travelled  friends  teU  me,  is  a 
very  classical  instrument,  and  extends  not  only  over  Italy, 
but  throughout  Greece,  and  is  supposed  to  be  one  of  the 
most  ancient  musical  (query,  unmusical?)  instruments  in 
the  world.  I  can  only  say,  that  if  "  Music,  heavenly  maid!*' 
played  upon  it 

" when  she  was  young, 

And  first  in  early  Greece  she  sung," 

I  cannot  enter  into  the  poet's  regret  at  not  having  heard 
her ;  but,  on  the  contrary,  am  perfectly  satisfied 
**  With  all  that  charms  this  laggard  age ;" 

to  wit — ^the  strains  she  gives  us  now  she  has  grown  old. 

Some  wandering  harpers  from  the  south  of  Italy,  too, 
sometimes  visit  Home.  Their  music  is  simple,  very  peculiar, 
probably  very  ancient,  and  certainly  very  sweet.  They  are 
called  Carciofolari,  Excepting  these  itinerant  musicians, 
and  one  old  blind  man,  who  is  stationary,  I  have  heard  no 
street  music  in  Eome,  and  very  little  in  any  town,  village, 
or  hamlet  of  Italy,  in  which  it  has  been  my  lot  to  sojourn, 
excepting  Naples  and  Venice.  There  the  voice  of  music  is 
contmuaBy  heard  at  evening,  over  the  calm  waters  of  the 
Bay  of  ifaples  and  the  canals  of  the  Adriatic, — on  the 
Chiaja  and  the  Piazza  di  San'  Marco.  The  favourite  instru- 
ment in  both  places  is  the  guitar,  or  viola, — an  excellent 
accompaniment  for  the  voice.  When  I  was  at  Naples, 
'  Bicciordello  Antonio,'  a  beautiful  playful  little  air,  was  the 


Digitized  by 


Google 


262  BOMS. 

most  popular  among  the  lazzaroni ;  and  at  Venice,  '  Buona 
notte,  Amato  bene,'  met  me  at  every  comer ;  both  sung  with 
a  spirit  and  gaiety  that  gave  them  an  inexpressible  charm. 

One  thing,  indeed,  1  must  remark,  that  wherever  one 
does  hear  music  in  Italy,  it  is  really  music  (excepting  the 
bagpipe) — something  deserving  of  the  name. 

One's  ear  is  never  tortured  with  the  horrible  tunes, 
executed  in  a  still  more  horrible  style,  with  which  it  is 
continually  assailed  in  England.  But  the  fact  is,  music 
with  us  is  au  exotic,  and  the  plant  has  a  sickly  and  artificial 
existence.  In  the  great  hotbed  of  London  alone  it  comes 
to  any  perfection,  and  there,  though  fine,  it  is  forced. 

K  Italy  bears  away  the  pahn  in  vocal  excellence,  Ger- 
many far  surpasses  it  in  instrumental  music,  in  the  refined 
and  universal  taste,  or  rather  passion,  for  music,  diffused 
among  all  classes,  and  in  the  excellence  both  of  the  com- 
position and  execution.  There  you  may  hear  the  compo- 
sitions of  Mozart,  and  Haydn,  and  Beethoven,  in  the 
dwelling  of  every  artisan ;  but  in  Italy,  her  own  imm  rtal 
ancient  masters  are  neglected  and  forgotten,  or  heard  now 
only  in  other  lands. 

The  higher  orders  have  not  the  same  strong  passion  for 
music  that  I  expected.  It  forms  no  part  of  the  entertain- 
ment in  their  conversaziones,  except  when  a  rare  accademia 
renders  it  the  sole  purpose  of  the  meeting.  Indeed-  it 
seems  less  generally  than  with  us,  a  source  of  domestic 
amusement ;  but  I  am  not  sure  that  this  is  to  be  regretted : 
it  may  perhaps  be  doubted,  whether  the  invaluable  years  of 
ever^  young  English  lady's  lile  that  are  devoted  to  the 
attainment  of  a  certain  degree  of  expertness  in  running  over 
the  keys  of  a  pianoforte,  might  not,  where  there  is  no 
natural  taste  for  it,  be  better  employed. 

In  Italy,  though  every  lady  of  a  certain  rank  is  not  a 
musician,  there  are  many  who  sing  and  play  with  a  taste 
and  science  worthy  of  first-rate  professional  performers.  In 
the  other  sex  there  are  stiU  more  examples  of  this,  though  it 
is  said  to  be  less  common  now  than  in  lormer  times.  Italian 
noblemen  may  still  be  found  fiddling  all  night  for  their  own 
amusement  in  an  orchestra ;  but  these  things  are,  compara- 
tively speaking,  rare. 


Digitized  by 


Google 


SAGSES  MUBIO.  263 

I  have  frequently  attended  a  weekly  aeeademia  of  music 
given  at  Eome  by  a  man  who  made  a  fortune  hj  selling 
fiddle-strings.  Notwithstanding  his  ]^beian  on^,  his 
concerts  are  frequented  by  most  of  the^Boman  nobility,  by 
foreign  ambassadors,  and  royal  princes.  The  performers 
are,  for  the  most  part,  amateurs,  and  some  of  them  very 
good ;  but  who  does  not  see,  that  though  the  company  at 
large  loudly  applaud  the  performance,  and  cry,  'flow 
charming!  how  divine!'  their  whole  souls  ore  intent  upon 
the  looks,  dress,  flirtations,  and  admirations  of  each  other, — 
upon  bowing,  smiling,  coquetting,  manoeuvring, — upon  any- 
thing, in  short,  but  the  music ;  and  that,  though  the  osten- 
sible, it  is  not  the  real  source  of  attraction  P 

Eome  has  at  present  the  worst  opera  in  Italy,  but  the 
best  sacred  music  in  the  world.  In  all  the  churches,  the 
festas  of  the  saints  to  whom  they  are  dedicated  are  an- 
nually celebrated  with  a  grand  sacred  concert  of  vocal  and 
instrumental  music,  by  a  band  of  professional  performers ; 
and,  on  these  occasions — in  the  Jesuits'  church  at  the  close 
of  the  old,  and  commencement  of  the  new  year, — ^in  the 
chapel  of  the  choir  at  St.  Peter's  on  Sundays,  at  vespers 
durmg  Lent  and  Advent, — and  more  particularly  in  the 
three  grand  Misereres  of  the  Holy  Week,  and  the  accade- 
mias  given  at  that  time  in  private  houses, — ^the  music  is 
indeed  of  unrivalled  excellence,  and  fraught  with  a  lofty 
sublimity  and  pathos,  to  which  nothing  I  ever  heard  else- 
where even  approximates.  Yet  it  is  strange,  that  with  such 
heavenly  harmony  at  command,  the  ordinary  church  music 
should  be  absolutely  bad;  indeed,  scarcely  deserving  the 
name. 

In  the  chapel  of  a  convent  on  the  Quirinal  HiQ,  called, 
I  think,  the  Church,  or  Chapel  of  Santa  Anna,  the  singing 
of  the  nuns,  at  vespers,  is  singularly  touching.  In  this 
chaj)el  there  is  the  perpetual  exposition  of  the  Host ;  and, 
in.  consequence,  it  is  perpetually  illuminated,  night  and  day, 
with  wax  tapers.  I  have  never  entered  it  without  finding  it 
filled  with  people,  all  on  their  knees  on  the  marble  floor,  and 
a  silence  so  profound  reigning  through  it,  that  every  half- 
stifled  sigh  of  penitence  that  broke  m)m  them  reached  the 
ear.    Every  being  there  seemed  as  unconscious  of  the  pre- 


Digitized  by 


Google 


264  BOME. 

sence  of  those  with  whom  he  was  in  contact,  as  if  in  a 
desert.  No  doubt,  the  a^^l  stillness  that  prevailed  amidst 
this  crowd  of  people,  and  the  unnatural  glare  of  the  illumi- 
nation within,  when  all  without  was  bright  in  day,  had  their 
influence  in  giving  effect  to  the  full  harmoiiious  voices  of 
the  invisible  inmates  of  the  cloister,  whom  men  might  see 
no  more.  But  so  powerful  was  the  pathos  of  their  choral 
strain,  that  it  affected  many,  "  albeit  unused  to  the  melting^ 
mood,"  even  to  tears. 

The  romantic  custom  of  serenades  is  still  very  generally 
practised  among  the  middle  and  lower  classes.  On  a 
moonlight  evening,  the  lover  conducts  a  little  band  of  hired 
musicians  below  the  windows  of  his  mistress,  and  while  they 
pour  forth  the  melting  strains  of  melody,  he  stands  to  watch 
her  appearance,  to  breathe  forth  his  sighs,  or,  by  mute  signs, 
implore  her  pity.  Her  name  is  echoed  in  the  songs,  which 
are  sometimes  really  composed,  and  are  always  supposed  to 
be  so,  by  him.  A  fair  Italian,  who  lives  a  few  doors  from 
us,  has  been  serenaded  almost  every  night  this  week,  by  her 
enamoured  swain. 

Though  the  time  of  the  Carnival,  there  is  only  one  theatre 
(La  Valle)  open  here ;  and  even  this,  like  the  Fiorentini  at 
Naples,  is  a  melange  of  the  Opera  and  the  Theatre.  The 
dancing  is  wretched  beyond  description ;  the  music  is  bad, 
and  the  acting  not  many  degrees  better.  Some  of  the  farces 
and  buffooneries,  however,  have  been  amusing.  *  Gli  Ciar- 
latani,'  a  farce  I  saw  the  other  night,  had  abundance  of  low 
humour,  and  was  irresistibly  laughable,  and  weU  played.  I 
have  not  yet  seen  any  of  the  very  few  good  comedies  of 
Groldoni,  but  I  have  yawned  through  several  representations 
of  his  tedious  and  trifling  colloquies  of  five  acts,  without 
incident,  interest,  character,  or  vis  comica.  He  really  seems 
to  think  that  the  common  occurrences  of  a  domestic  day, 
such  as  drinking  a  cup  of  chocolate,  sitting  down  to  dinner, 
scolding  the  servants,  or  spoiling  the  children,  are  sufiicient 
materials  for  a  drama.  One  would  wonder  that  any  author 
could  ever  have  written  such  trash,  or  that  any  audience 
could  have  listened  to  it ;  still  more,  that  any  one  who  had 
ever  written  anything  so  good  as  a  few  of  his  well-known 
pieces,  should  have  produced  so  much  that  is  so  very  bad  aa 


Digitized  by 


Google 


GOLDOHl'S  PLATS.  265 

xiine-tenths  of  his  puerile  trash,  misnamed  comedies.  *  II 
Burbero  Benefico,'  which  is  one  of  the  best  of  them,  was 
written  at  Paris,  after  a  long  and  diligent  study  of  the 
French  comedy,  which  it  resembles,  without  equalliag ;  and 
though  it  may  be  a  very  curious  circumstance  that  he  wrote 
it  originally  in  Erench,  it  cannot  make  it  a  better  play. 
He  has  occasionally  traits  of  coarse  humour  and  of  character, 
but  never  of  genuine  wit  or  genius ;  and  everything  he  ever 
wrote  is  tinctured  with  gross  vulgarity,  and  betrays  his 
extraordinary  ignorance,  as  well  as  the  limited  scope  of  his 
ideas.  Even  in  the  best  of  his  productions,  there  is  a  de- 
plorable want  of  life  and  interest,  and  plot  and  wit.  The 
three  wearisome  plays  upon  Richardson's  *  Pamela,'  though 
great  favourites  with  the  Italians,  whose  dramatic  personi- 
fications give  as  false  an  idea  of  the  English  character,  as 
ours  of  theirs,  are  a  proof  how  rarely  authors  succeed  in 
painting  the  manners  and  characters  of  any  nation  except 
tbeu*  own. 

In  seizing  those  of  his  own  gay  Venetians,  Groldoni  has 
been  far  more  happy,  and  perhaps,  upon  the  whole,  some  of 
the  whole  host  of  plays  he  wrote  in  that  sweet  patois,  are 
superior  to  all  those  in  what  he  is  pleased  to  call  the  lingtia 
Toscana.  My  acquaintance  with  his  four-and-forty  volumes 
of  comedies,  however,  is  by  no  means  universal,  and  has 
been  a  good  deal  impeded  by  an  unlucky  habit  of  falling 
asleep  over  them. 

GFoldoni  wrote  sixteen  bad  comedies  in  one  year ;  it  would 
have  been  better  if  he  had  written  one  good  one  in  sixteen 
years.  He  may  more  properly  be  called,  a  play-monger  than 
a  comic  poet.  I  have  never  seen  any  of  Alfieri's  tragedies, 
nor  indeed  any  tragedy  at  all,  performed;  nor  is  it  likely 
I  should,  for  Aliieri  is  much  talked  of,  but  little  read,  and 
scarcely  ever  acted.  AH  his  plays,  except  four,  were  prohi- 
bited by  the  Erench,  from  political  motives,  nor  is  it  likely 
that  the  interdict  will  be  taken  off  by  the  present  govern- 
ments. The  loss  is  the  less,  because  they  are  confessedly 
ill  adapted  to  the  stage ;  they  are  unpopular  in  representa- 
tion, even  among  the  Italians  themselves ;  and  such  being 
the  case,  they  may  be  fine  poems,  but  cannot  be  considered 
fine  playfl. 


Digitized  by 


Google 


266  BOKX. 

It  is  tme  they  bear  a  liigh  name  in  Italy,  because  there 
thej  stand  alone.  AMeri  has  no  competitor,  and  wins  the 
prize  like  a  race-horse  that  walks  over  the  course.  They 
may  be  comparatively,  without  being  positively  good.  It 
may,  indeed,  seem  presumptuous  to  assert  that  Alfieri's 
plays  are  deficient  in  dramatic  merit,  but  their  total  want  of 
success  on  the  stage  is  surely  a  decisive  proof  of  it.  As 
compositions  they  may  be  fine;  but  as  dramas  they  are 
deficient  in  plot,  character,  action,  interest,  incident,  and 
passion,  and  most  of  all,  in  nature.  High-soundiug  senti- 
ments are  uttered,  and  high  heroic  deeds  performed,  but  by 
imaginary  beings.  Alfien  has  cast  men  in  moulds  of  hia 
own,  and  made  them  act  as  he  pleases;  he  has  not  pene- 
trated into  the  deep  recesses  of  the  human  heart,  like 
Shakespeare,  and  pamted  from  what  he  traced  there.  His 
plays  are  addressed  to  the  head  rather  than  the  heart,  and 
consequently  they  never  touch  our  hearts,  nor  move  our 
feelings.  Besides,  in  most  of  them,  there  is  far  too  much 
said  and  too  little  done ;  an  unredeemable  fault  in  dramatic 
composition. 

Italy  must  yield  to  England,  Prauce,  and  even  to  Spain, 
both  iu  tragedy  and  comedy.  I  do  not  speak  of  the  G^rmaji 
theatre,  because  I  cannot  judge  of  it  iu  the  original,  there- 
fore not  at  aU.  Italy  was  the  first  seat  of  modem  dramatic 
performances.  Long  before  any  other  of  the  nations  of 
Europe  had  a  stage,  himdreds  of  tragedies  and  comedies 
were  represented  here.  But  what  were  these  comedie 
arUiche? — ^Dry,  lifeless  imitations  of  the  Grecian  and  Eoman 
dramatists,  tolerated  at  first  with  difficulty;  even  by  the. 
learned,  never  endured  by  the  body  of  the  people,  and  long 
since  consigned  to  dust  and  utter  oblivion.  In  fact,  para- 
doxical as  it  may  seem,  the  true  legitimate  drama  of  life  and 
nature  is  not  the  natural  growth  of  Italy.  The  Opera  and 
the  Pantomime,  BCarlequin  and  Punchinello,  Music  and 
Buffo,  are  indigenous,  and  flourish  in  fuU  perfection.  But 
the  Theatre  is  everywhere  secondary  to  the  Opera.  While 
the  veiy  names  and  memories  of  the  singers  of  Italy  are  re- 
echoed with  rapture  in  every  country,  there  are  not,  nor  ever 
have  been,  any  actors  of  great  popular  fame, — ^not  at  least  in 
the  regular  drama ;  for  in  the  old  native  Commedie  deV  Arte^ 


Digitized  by 


Google 


XXTEHPOBB  PLATS.  267 

wbich  Goldoni  laboured  so  hard  to  banish,  while  his  best 
works,  afber  all,  are  formed  upon  its  model,  they  were  excel- 
lent in  their  way.  In  these,  nothing  was  written, — ^the 
action  and  dialogue  were  entirely  left  to  the  extempore  wit 
of  the  performers,  who  had.  only  for  a  guide  the  dry  bare 
skeleton, — ^the  scenario,  as  they  cisdled  it,  of  the  play ;  which 
was  previously  planned,  and  stuck  up  behind  the  scenes; 
bnt  they  Med  up  the  sketch  al  improwiso,  with  their  own 
colouring ;  their  merry  dialogue,  their  smart  repartee,  their 
practical  jokes,  their  buffoonery  and  grimace.  Thus  they 
were  at  the  same  moment  authors  and  actors.  Their  cha- 
racters, to  be  sure,  were  all  established.  There  were  Pan- 
taloi^  (Pantaloon)  the  old  Venetian  merchant,  il  Dottore 
(the T)octor  of  Bologna),  the  Neapolitan  PollicineUo  (Punch), 
the  Bergamasque  Arlecchino  (Harlequin),  a  blundering  ser- 
vant, the  Calabrian  Clown  (Griangurgolo  or  CorieUo),  the 
Ferrarese  Eogue  (BrigheUa),  the  Bull^  of  Naples  (Spa- 
viento),  the  Coxcomb  of  Eome  (Ghelsomino),  and  the  Srni- 
pleton  of  Milan,  whose  established  name  I  have  forgotten. 
^  All  these  wore  masKS.  Besides  which,  there  were  the 
Lovers  (Gl*  Innamorati),  in  eveiy  play,  who  were  senti- 
mental, and  were  not  masked,  and  spoke  in  Un^^ua  Toscana, 
It  was  observed  to  me,  by  an  ingenious  Italian,  that  the 
extempore  nature  of  these  pieces, — ^the  acting  in  masks,  and 
the  whole  style  of  the  performance,  includmg,  I  fear,  its 
licentiousness, — seemed  to  prove  the  Oommedie  deV  Arte  to 
be  the  legitimate  descendant  of  the  ancient  Atellana.  I 
confess  I  should  be  sorry  to  see  anything  so  truly  national, 
and  so  highly  ingenious,  banished  Italy  altogether;  but  it 
is  certainly  on  the  wane.  The  higher  orders  learn  from 
foreigners  to  decry  and  discountenance  it,  and  the  lower 
orders  have  little  voice  here. 

The  Italians  show  a  good  deal  of  the  same  talent  in  the 
management  of  the  JEhntoccini  or  Burattini — the  acting 
puppets,  which  are  as  much  superior  to  the  Marionettes  of 
tVance,  as  a  pantomime  to  a  puppet-show.  Thev  are  so  ad- 
mirably managed,  that  one  contmually  forgets  tliey  are  not 
real  men  and  women ;  and  their  dialogues  have  all  the  air 
of  proceeding  from  their  own  mouths.  I  have  certainly, 
hitherto,  met  with  no  actors  here  to  compare  to  those 


Digitized  by 


Google 


268  BOME. 

wooden  ones,  and  I  shall  not  soon  forget  the  diversion  I 
experienced  the  other  night  from  their  performance.  They 
first  represented  a  most  kughable  little  comedy.  This  was 
followed  by  a  melo-drama  taken  from  Ariosto,  and  full  of 
enchantments.  The  magic  mirror,  the  flying  horse,  the 
brazen  palace,  the  Oreo,  Astolfo's  journey  to  the  moon, 
Bradamante's  prowess,  &c.,  &c.,  were  formed  into  a  con- 
nected plot  of  adventure  and  romance,  terminating  in  Brad- 
amante's  marriage  with  Euggiero.  The  last  piece  was  still 
more  classical ;  it  was  the  tale  of  Orpheus  and  Eurydice, 
travestied.  Orpheus  himself,  fiddling,  in  a  huge  bag-wig 
and  an  old-fashioned  court-dress,  ana  aU  his  adventures  in 
hell,  and  out  of  it,  were  inexpressibly  laughable.  By  fer 
the  best  Fantoccini  are  at  Eome ;  the  next  in  merit  are  at 
Milan. 

The  ancient  Miracles,  or  Mysteries,  or  Moralities,  the 
earliest  attempts  at  drama  in  every  country  in  Europe,  and 
the  favourite  amusements  of  the  middle  ages,  still  maintain 
their  ground  in  Italy.  Several  of  these  pious  plays  were  per- 
formed at  Rome  this  year  about  Christmas-time.  The  subjects 
are  taken  from  Holy  Writ.  Our  Saviour,  with  the  Twelve 
Apostles  and  the  three  Maries ;  and  Saints,  and  Angels, 
and  Prophets,  without  end,  hold  long  colloquies  together ; 
and  the  devil  seldom  fails  to  perform  a  principal  part.  But 
will  it  be  believed,  that  the  Supreme  Being  is  impiously 
represented  in  these  wretched  mummeries  on  the  public 
stage,  by  a  strolling  actor,  and  that  they  blasphemously 
presume  to  put  into  His  mouth  their  low  doggrel  rhvmes  ? 

The  time  was,  indeed,  in  England,  when  the  parish  clerks 
used  "  to  put  forth  a  play  for  the  goodlie  entertainment  of 
the  King,  the  Queen,  and  all  the  nobility ;"  and  the  famous 
*  Play  of  Coventry'  *  (in  forty  acts)  was  represented ; — ^the 
first  act  or  pageant  of  which  was  opened  by  a  set  speech 
from  the  Deity  himself,  seated  upon  his  throne.  But  that 
an  exhibition,  which  can  scarcely  be  traced  in  England,  even 
in  the  fourteenth  century,  should  be  tolerated  at  Eome  in 
the  niueteenth — may  well  excite  our  unqualified  amaze- 
ment. 

•  Ludus  Coventriae,  or  Corpus  Christi,  a  Mystery, — still  extant 
(Vide  Strutt's  Sports  of  the  People  of  England,  book  iiL  chap,  ii.) 


Digitized  by 


Google 


THE  OPERA.  269 

The  state  of  the  regular  theatre  in  Italy,  both  as  to  the 
drama  and  the  performers,  is,  in  all  I  have  seen  of  it,  at 
a  very  low  ebb.  At  Naples,  however,  I  was  often  well 
amused;  at  Some  I  have  almost  invariably  been  wearied 
or  disgusted. 

The  opera  at  Eome,  I  imderstand,  is  always  bad,  but  this 
winter  it  is  intolerable.  The  instrumental  and  vocal  parts 
seem  to  contend  in  rivalry  of  wretchedness.  Eossini's  beau- 
tiful *  Tancredi '  has  been  mercilessly  murdered  all  winter ; 
still  the  boxes  of  the  Argentina  are  as  crowded  with  the 
beauty  and  fashion  of  Rome,  as  if  the  music  were  of  the 
first  description.  Nor  can  it,  as  at  Paris,  be  the  dancing 
which  forms  the  attraction ;  for  nothing  can  be  so  wretched 
as  the  ballet. 

The  best  operas  are  at  Milan  and  Naples ;  the  greater 
population  and  consequence  of  these  cities,  as  well  as  the 
splendour  and  magnitude  of  the  Sala  in  both  places,  will 
probably  long  enable  them  to  support  this  superiority.  The 
world  can  produce  no  theatres  to  rival  La  Scala  at  Milan, 
and  San  Carlo  at  Naples.  The  latter  is  superior  in  fresh- 
ness of  decoration,  but  perhaps  the  other  is  quite  as  noblo 
in  architecture.  The  finest  singers  of  Italy  are  to  be  found 
abroad,  rather  than  at  home.  .  The  superior  emoluments 
which  London,  and  indeed  every  other  capital  offers,  charms 
away  her  native  syrens.  The  low  prices  oi  entrance  through- 
out Italy  (the  highest  for  the  pit  being,  I  think,  about 
eighteen-pence  of  English  money,  and  a  whole  box  often 
hired  for  the  night,  even  during  the  Carnival,  for  five 
shillings),  render  the  salaries  of  the  performers  necessarily 
low.  I  have,  however,  sometimes  heard,  in  very  unpromis- 
ing places,  a  very  delightful  musical  treat.  Almost  every 
little  town  has  its  opera  during  some  part  of  the  year,  and 
this  certainly  is  a  strong  proof  of  a  imiversal  passion  for 
music  among  the  people.  It  would  be  stiU  stronger,  how- 
ever, if  they  attended  to  the  music;  but  I  must  say,  I 
never  was  so  much  disturbed  in  the  box  of  any  woman  of 
fashion  at  London,  as  in  those  of  my  Italian  ^ends  at 
Milan  and  Naples,  which,  with  Venice,  are  reputed,  and 
justly,  to  be  the  most  musical  places  in  Italy.  In  fact, 
the  Italians  go  to  the  Opera  for  society,  and  the  night  is 


Digitized  by 


Google 


270  BOHE. 

spent  in  paying  yisits  &om  one  box  to  another,  and  in 
incessant  cliattering.  The  continual  repetition  of  the  same 
opera  during  the  whole  season,  is  perhaps  one  great  caiuse 
01  this.  I  observed,  on  the  only  first  representation  I  ever 
witnessed,  that  the  utmost  silence  and  attention  preyailed 
till  the  piece  was  concluded. 

In  fine,  I  must  end  as  I  have  begun,  by  acknowledging^ 
myself  disappointed  in  the  music  of  Italy,  disappointed  in 
the  quantity,  disappointed  in  the  quality,  and  disappointed 
in  the  execution.  I  expected  from  it  (and  who  would  not  ?) 
pre-eminent  excellence ;  but  I  have  heard  much  finer  music, 
both  vocal  and  instrumental,  at  the  Opera,  at  the  Philhar- 
monic Concerts,  in  London,  and  in  most  of  the  great,  and 
many  of  the  little  towns  in  Germany,  than  I  have  ever 
heard  in  any  part  of  Italy.  I  speak  now  of  cultivated 
music, — of  the  music  of  courts,  and  operas  and  concerts. 
In  the  untutored  music  of  the  people,  I  am  sure  there  is 
nothiug,  among  the  whole  cont<tdmi  of  Italy,  to  compare 
to  the  singing  of  the  peasant  girls  of  Unterseen,  Brienz, 
and  many  parts  of  German  Switzerland  and  Germany. 

The  true  Italian  connoisseurs,  indeed,  say  that  music, 
and  musical  taste,  have  wofully  degenerated  in  this  country, 
and  I  cannot  but  believe  them.  Indeed,  though  such  com- 
plaints seldom  meet  with  much  attention,  and  are  always 
ascribed  to  a  querulousness  that  is  dissatisfied  with  the  pre- 
sent, I  am  inclined  to  believe  that  they  are  generally- 
founded  on  truth.  Nobody  thitiks  of  saying  t£it  taste 
for  the  fine  arts  has  declined  among  the  Engnsh,  or  taste 
for  politics  among  the  French,  or  tastf  for  reformation 
among  the  Grermans,  for  these  things  have  greatly  and 
manifestly  increased;  and  so  many  people  would  not  say 
that  musical  taste  had  declined  in  Italy,  nor  should  we 
see  so  many  appearances  of  it,  if  it  were  not  in  some  mea^ 
sure  true. 

But  even  if  this  be  the  case,  Italy  is  still  the  second 
musical  country  in  the  world ;  it  must  at  least  rank  after 
Germany.  In  England,  as  I  before  observed,  music  is  an 
exotic ;  we  have  it,  indeed,  in  its  highest  perfection,  as  we 
have  grapes  in  our  hot-houses ;  but  the  produce  is,  after  all, 
forced  and  scanty,  and  entirely  confined  to  the  metropolis. 


Digitized  by 


Google 


MTISIC.  271 

and  even  there,  to  the  rich,  who  often  taste,  without  en- 
joying it ;  in  fact  we  import,  rather  than  grow  it ;  and  unless 
we  bestowed  much  labour  aud  expense  •  upon  it,  we  should 
never  have  any  at  all.  The  English  are  not  naturally  a 
musical  people.  Nor  yet  are  the  French.  Neither  in 
France,  nor  even  in  French  Switzerland — ^which  aflfords  a 
striking  contrast  to  the  German  Cantons,  where  the  people 
are  highly  musical — ^in  Holland,  nor  in  Belgium,  in  Great 
^Britain  nor  in  Ireland,  have  I  ever  heard  anything  that 
deserves  to  be  called  music ;  for  the  simple  national  melo- 
dies of  Scotland,  whose  beauty  and  pathos  I  feel  with  all 
the  soul  of  a  native,  are  not  that  true  superior  scientific 
music,  that  men  of  cultivated  taste,  from  every  part  of  the 
world,  will  equally  admire  and  relish. 

Perhaps  such  music  is  pretty  much  oonfmed  to  Germany 
and  Italy;  and  perhaps  the  thing  that  is  most  remote 
from  it,  is  that  class  of  native  productions  in  England 
and  France,  which  those  countries  are  pleased  to  denomi- 
nate music. 


Digitized  by 


Google 


272  BOins. 


LETTEE  LXXXIII. 

ImPEOTTSATOBI — ^ACOASEMIE. 

I  HATE  heard  one  of  the  most  extraordinary  Improvisatori 
that  I  suppose  ever  appeared,  even  in  Italy.  For  four  op 
five  successive  hours,  he  continues  to  pour  forth  a  flood  of 
unpremeditated  verse,  without  the  smallest  hesitation,  or 
apparent  effort,  and  with  far  more  ease  than  any  of  us 
could,  after  hard  labour,  recite  a  composition  by  rote.  But 
this  is  not  the  wonder.  This  prodigy  can  compose  entire 
extempore  tragedies  on  any  given  subject,  with  all  the  plot, 
incident,  and  dramatis  personsB, — ^repeat  all  the  parts  him- 
self, and  bring  the  whole  to  a  regular  denouement,  with 
as  much  ease  as  you  and  I  would  cany  on  a  common  con- 
versation. 

I  assure  you  that  I  do  not  exaggerate.  No  words  can 
do  justice  to  the  perfect  ease,  the  energy,  and  unhesitating 
flow  of  verse,  in  which  he  poured  forth  this  long,  and,  in 
some  respects,  fine  tragedy;  for  there  were  scenes  and 
passages  m  it,  that  not  only  possessed  real  poetic  beauty 
and  the  warm  irresistible  eloquence  of  passion,  but  might 
have  done  honour  to  a  drama  deliberately  finished  off  in 
the  closet.  I,  a  poor  unskilled  foreigner,  you  may  be  sure, 
would  not  have  the  presumption  to  pronounce  so  decisively 
upon  its  positive  merits,  though  I  might  be  allowed  to  have 
an  opinion  of  its  comparative  ones ;  since  I  must  be  as  well 
qualified  to  judge  of  one  Italian  play  as  another ;  but  the 
solemn  critics  who  surrounded  me — ^with  brows  bent  to 
frown,  and  dispositions  prepared  to  condemn — ^were  them- 
selves carried  away  into  tne  same  extravagant  applause, 
admiration,  and  astonishment  which  possessed  me. 

That  it  was  really  improwiso,  not  a  shadow  of  doubt  could 
exist,  even  in  the  minds  of  the  most  incredulous,  of  whom. 


Digitized  by 


Google 


THE  IMPBOTIBATOSE   SGBIGGI.  273 

before  I  went,  I  believe  I  was  one.    A  variety  of  subjects, 

Sroposed  by  different  persons  in  company,  were  written 
own  by  a  man  on  the  sta^e,  sealed,  and  thrown  into  a  vase, 
which  was  shaken  by  vanous  people  among  the  audience, 
and  the  billet  was  drawn  by  a  gentleman  of  our  acquaint- 
ance.    On'  this  occasion  it  proved  to  be  *  Medea ;'  a  subject 
so  hackneyed,  that  when  Signore  Tomaso  Sgricci — for  that 
is  the  name  of  this  extraordinary  person — received  it  on 
his  entrance,  he  expressed  a  wish  tnat  another  lot  might 
be  drawn ;  both  from  the  difl&culty  of  avoiding  an  imitation 
of  the  great  writers  who  had  already  treated  it,  and  from 
having  very  lately,  at  Florence,  dramatized  on  the  same. 
The    Sala,    however,    resounded    with    cries    of   *  Medea ! 
Medea!'    to  the  ioy  of  an  Italian  gentleman  of  my  ac- 
quaintance, behind  me,  who  had  heard  him  on  this  veiy 
theme  at  Florence,  and  was  curious  to  see  if  he  would 
repeat  it  verbatim.     Signore  Sgricci  bowed,  paused  a  single 
minute,  and  then  said,  that  to  avoid  repetition  as  much  as 
possible,  he  would  make  a  different  cast  of  parts.     He 
introduced,  as  my  Florentine    friend   acknowledged,  two 
new  characters,  opened  the  action  in  a  different  part  of 
the  story,  and  neither  in  a  single  scene,  nor  even  speech, 
^proached  to  the  tragedy  he  had  composed  at  Florence. 
The  character  of  Medea,  throughout,  was  supported  with 
wonderful  force   and  effect;    and  her  invocation  to  the 
hellish  brood  was  horribly  sublime.    The  second  tragedy, 
which  I  heard  on  another  occasion,  was  a  much  more  novel 
subject ;  it  was  the  death  of  Lucretia,  which  gave  far  more 
scope  to  his  powers ;  and  there  were  many  parts  in  it  which 
absolutely  electrified  the  house,  and  drew  forth  loud  and 
continued  'Evviva'sT  of  applause.    I  should  observe,  that 
these  tragedies  were  both  in  verse  sciolto,  without  rhyme ; 
but  improvmso  poems,  on  any  given  subject  and  measure, 
he  pours  forth  with  the  same  inconceivable  rapidity. 

He  is  a  native  of  Arezzo  (the  birth-place  of  retrarch), 
and  the  harsh  Tuscan  accent  is  very  distinguishable  in  his 
enunciation.  His  language,  however,  is  remarkably  pure, 
and  its  flow  and  variety  are  most  wonderful, 

Signore  Sgricci  is,  as  far  as  I  know,  the  only  improvi- . 
satore  who  ever  attempted  tragedy.     Of  the  tribe  who 
VOL.  n.  T 


Digiti 


ized  by  Google 


274  BOia. 

spout  forth  torrents  of  Terse  on  ererr  possible  theme,  tb^e 
is  no  end.  It  is,  however,  &r  from  bemg  mj  intention  to 
speak  of  them  disparae^inglj ;  on  the  contrary,  I  think  it 
a  wonderful  talent,  and  one  which,  I  believe,  is  exclusively 
Italian;  for,  though  I  have  heard,  in  the  evenings  of 
summer,  a  knot  of  Portuguese  peasants  singing  to  their 
guitar,  improwuto  (which  they  call  gloggare) ; — ^their  little 
extempore  songs  can  scarcely  be  styled  poetry;  aspiring 
to  no  elevation,  fancy,  or  even  regularity  of  metre,  but 
merely  stringing  together  the  rhymes  into  which  their 
euphonious  language  naturally  runs.  The  genius  of  the 
Italian  language  affords  considerable  facility  to  the  com- 
position of  verse ;  yet,  when  that  composition  is  to  be  on 
any  ^ven  subject,  without  a  moment's  pause  or  hesitation, 
and  m  the  fiice  of  an  expecting  audience,  it  is  amazing  that 
its  diiEculties  can  be  conquered  at  all.  Few  people  in  our 
country  would  find  it  easy  to  make  a  tolerable  dissertation  in 
prose,  on  any  given  theme,  in  such  a  situation ;  how  much 
more  difficult  would  they  find  it,  when  encumbered  with  the 
fetters  of  rhyme  and  measure !  But  the  Italian  improvisatoii 
could  make  no  extempore  oration  in  prose  on  a  given  theme; 
and  this  seems  to  prove  that  it  is  a  sort  of  inspiration,  or 
poetic  fervour,  that  carries  them  on.  They  often  compose 
with  rime  obligate,  that  is,  the  rhymes  and  measure,  as  well 
as  subject,  are  assigned  them.  This,  to  my  great  astonish- 
ment, one  of  them  assured  me,  he  found  even  easier  than 
unshackled  composition,  because  the  rhymes  being  chosen 
saved  him  the  necessity  of  searching  for  them ;  so  that  it 
is  plain  he  adapted  the  sense  to  the  sound,  not  the  sound 
to  the  sense,  it  is  very  common,  too,  to  have  a  verso 
(Migato,  a  distich  taken  from  any  popular  poet,  assi^ed 
them,  which  they  must  introduce  at  ttie  end  of  every  eight- 
Hue  stanza. 

It  is  scarcely  possible  that  verses  so  composed  should 
ever  be  very  ^q,  and  sometimes  they  are  very  bad;  but 
they  are  occasionally  wonderfiilly  pretl^,  and  adorned  with 
images  and  allusions  which  it  is  amazing  they  should  have 
been  able  to  conjure  up  in  the  moment.  But  the  truth  is, 
they  have  similes  and  thoughts  ready  prepared ;  they  are 
versed  in  all  the  common-place  of  poetry,  have  ail  its 


Digitized  by 


Google 


IHFBOTISATOBI.  275 

lifickneyed  images  at  command,  and  bring  in  on  all  occa- 
sions, the  gods  and  goddesses,  and  muses,  as  auxiliaries. 
StOl,  when  themes  are  given  on  which  these  useM  per- 
sonages cannot  be  brought  to  their  assistance,  and  on 
which,  from  their  oddity,  they  could  not  be  prepared,  they 
sometimes  hit  off  very  happily-turned  verses.  I  gave  *a 
cat,'  as  a  subject  one  night  to  a  Eoman  improvisatrice,* 
who  instantly  composed  some  very  pretty  lines  upon  it; 
and  '  a  pen/  upon  another  occasion,  called  forth  a  stul  more 
ingenious  poem  from  a  gentleman. 

By  far  tne  most  interesting  performance  of  the  kind  is, 
when  two  sing  together,  or  rather  against  each  other,  in 
alternate  stanzas;  something  like  the  contests  in  Virgil's 
Eclogues,  or  the  trials  of  skiH  between  ancient  bards.  The 
improvisatori,  fired  by  each  other's  strains,  by  rivalry,  and 
emulation,  pour  out  their  strophe  and  antistrophe,  with  a 
degree  of  mcreasing  fervour  and  animation,  that  carries 
away  their  audience,  as  well  as  themselves. 

Of  the  improvisatori  of  Eome  itself,  Signore  Bionde  is, 
in  my  opinion,  by  far  the  first,  and  I  believe  he  is  almost 
a  Bontaiy  example  of  the  publishedpoems  of  an  improvi- 
satore  being  received  with  6clat.  He,  too,  with  the  excep- 
tion of  Signore  Sgricci,  is  the  most  calm  in  his  action,  the 
most  free  from  &ose  violent  contortions  or  distortions 
which,  whether  the  effect  of  natural  agitation  or  affected 
passion,  are  peculiarly  unpleasant  to  witness.  These,  iur 
deed,  I  have  invariably  observed  to  be  strongest  in  an 
inverse  ratio  to  the  goodness  of  the  performer ;  and  Sgzicci, 
who  confessedly  stands  at  the  head  of  the  race,  is  wholly 
free  from  them. 

A  young  Neapolitan  improvisatrice,  Bosa  Taddei^  has  lately 
excited  great  interest  at  Eome ;  she  is  only  nineteen,  not 
hands(Hne,  but  with  a  countenance  fidl  of  expressipn,  inteU 
ligence,  and  sensibility.  That  she  is  endowed  with  great 
natural  genius,  it  would  be  vain  to  deny ;  and  though  very 
unequal,  her  compositions  are  sometimeB  lighted  up  with 
bursts  of  beauty,  that  seem  really  the  effect  of  inspiration ; 

*  A  lady  of  remarkable  talent,  who,  from  diffidence,  never  would 
attempt  to  perform,  except  in  a  aniall  circle  of  her  own  fiiendB.  She  is 
since  dead. 

t2 


Digitized  by 


Google 


276  E0MT5. 

but  it  is  almost  painful  to  see  her,  firom  the  agitation  under 
which  she  labours,  and  the  violent  physical  effort  which 
every  line  seems  to  cost  her.  She  is  the  daughter  of  a 
comedian,  and  has  enjoyed  no  advantage  of  education ;  yet 
her  manners  have  that  natural  elegance  which  results  from 
a  mind  of  genius  and  sensibility.  She  is /now  studying 
Latin,  that  universal  and  rational  foundation  for  a  good 
education  here,  and  is  making  rapid  advances  in  knowledge 
in  history.  With  the  Italian  poets  she  is  already  con- 
versant. 

I  never  pitied  any  one  more  than  this  poor  girl,  at  two  or 
three  sittings  of  the  ticcademie.    These  sapient  institutions 
are  confraternities  of  male  and  female  poets,  who  elect  and 
eulogize,  and  stun  each  other  with  their  own  lackadaisical 
sonnets,  elegies,  and  pastorals.    There  are  two  grand  aeca- 
demie  in  Eome,  the  Tiburina,  which  is  quite  of  modem  date, 
and  the  Arcadia,  which  is  the  ancient  parent  of  the  whole, 
and  has  planted  its  colonies  in  every  ciijr  of  Italy:  for  the 
Arcadians, — ^these  enraptured  swains,  who  so  unweariedly 
extol  the  pleasures  of  rural  simplicity  and  pastoral  innocence, 
win  be  sought  in  vain  among  peaceful  plains  or  secluded 
hamlets,*  or  anywhere,  except  among  the  din  of  populous 
towns.     Every  member,  on  admission,  becomes  a  shepherd, 
and  takes  some  pastoral  name,  and  receives  a  grant  of  some 
fanciful  pastoral  estate  in  the  happy  re^ons  of  Arcadia, 
where  he  is  supposed  to  feed  his  narmless  sheep.     This 
pastoral  brotherhood  holds  its  meetings  in  a  large  hall, 
adorned  with  portraits  of  some  of  the  most  famous  worthies 
among  its  deceased  members ;  among  whom,  Sir  Isaac  New- 
ton, and  several  other  great  philosophers  of  our  country,  had 
the  Tumour  to  be  included.     Once  a-month, — ^moved  I  pre- 
sume by  the  influence  of  the  moon, — ^they  assemble  to 
disburden  their  minds,  and  rills  of  nonsense  meander  from 
every  mouth.    I  was  once  seduced  into  one  of  these  assem- 
blages, and  sustained  the  infliction  of  the  incessant  recitation 
of  the  most  wretched  rhymes  during  three  mortal  hours. 
Nothing  could  be  much  more  ridiculous  than  to  hear  an 
Arcadian,  in  the  shape  of  a  huge,  clumsy,  ungainly-looking 
man,  in  dirty  boots,  and  a  great  coat,  called  upon  by  some 
such  absurd  name  as  '  XL  Pastor  Corydone,'  and  then  to  see 


Digitized  by 


Google 


EOSi.  TADDEI.  277 

him  get  up  and  begin  to  repeat  some  silly  ditty  about  his 
sheep,  or  to  bewail  himself  on  the  cruelty  of  his  MUtde. 
The  natural  effect  ensued,  and  one  of  these  plaintive  pastorals 
was  interrupted  by  the  loud  snores  of  a  fat  Arcadian  swain. 
They  convened  an  extraordinary  sitting  the  other  night,  in 
honour  of  Bosa  Taddei,  the  fair  improvisatrice,  whom,  of' 
course,  they  have  made  a  shepherdess.  She  was  handed  into 
the  crowded  sala,  which  on  this  occasion  presented  not  its 
usual  beggarly  account  of  empty  benches,  but  boasted  of 
cardinals,  dukes,  and  duchesses,  foreign  ambassadors, — and 
Canova,  who  accompanied  us.  One  after  another  they  began 
addressing  her,  in  long  Latin  and  Italian  pastorals,  and  other 
rigmaroles,  in  -which  they  made  her  out  to  be  a  star  come 
down  from  heaven ;  an  amaranthine  flower  transplanted  to 
earth ;  the  soul  of  a  seraph,  usually  employed  in  singing  in 
heaven,  now  come  down  to  perform  in  this  nether  world: 
they  said  Gorilla  was  a  dunce  to  her ;  even  Sappho  herself 
was  undone:  she  was  a  tenth  Muse,  and  beat  the  other 
nine  all  to  nothing, — had  been  nursed  upon  Olympus,  and 
was  Apollo's  prime  favourite,  &c.  &c. 

She  is  really  modest,  and  without  any  affectation  it  was 
easy  to  see  she  was  extremely  discomposed  with  the  absurd 
hyperboles  that  were  mercilessly  addressed  to  her.  After 
this  weary  performance,  her  own  began.  The  parting  of 
Titus  and  Berenice, — ^the  address  of  Moses  te  the  IsraeHtes 
on  the  passage  of  the  Eed  Sea  (some  passages  very  fine), 
— ^the  Fall  of  Man, — Adam  and  Eve  expelled  from  Paradise, 
— ^the  Death  of  Arria, — the  Parting  of  Venus  and  Adonis 
(by  far  the  best), — ^the  Battle  of  Constantine  and  Maxentius 
(not  suited  to  her,  and  ven^  poor),  and  Calliope  at  the  Tomb 
of  Homer, — a  favourite  Italian  mode  of  verse-making,  in 
which  the  supposed  visiter,  whether  muse  or  man,  pours 
forth  an  appropriate  strain  of  lamentation;  these  were 
some  of  the  principal  subjects  on  which  she  sang,  with 
various,  but  sometimes  distinguished  success.  She  is  almost 
the  only  performer  in  whom  I  have  ever  seen  much  hesita- 
tion. She  was  fre<juently  obliged  to  repeat  the  last  line 
twice,  and  even  thnce.  I  beheve  I  forgot  te  tell  you  that 
few  improvisatori,  except  Sgricci,  ever  perform  without 
muBic,  and  none  ever  accompany  themselves.    They  choose 


Digitized  by 


Google 


278  xoia. 

a  simple,  but  marked  measure,  suited  to  the  rhythm  thej  are 
going  to  compose  in,  which  is  ph&jed  on  the  pianoforte  bj 
another  person ;  and  the  cadence,  and  strong  intonation  in 
which  the^  recite,  is  nearly  singing. 

The  utility  of  the  music  is  not  so  much  to  conceal  any 
irregularity  m  the  metre,  as  to  give  a  certain  inspiration  to 
the  performer,— to  kindle  a  certain  feeling  of  enthusiasm, 
which  it  is  vam  to  describe,  but  which  all  who  are  suscep- 
tible of  the  power  of  music  or  poesy  must  have  felt.  The 
improvisator!  seem  to  have  the  power,  by  certain  associations, 
of  calling  up  at  will  those  trains  of  feeling  under  which 
alone  they  can  pour  forth  the  unpremeditated  strains  of 
lyric  song.  Several  of  the  Italian  improvisatrice,  in  their 
raised  and  inspired  moods,  pouring  forth  their  unpremedi- 
tated strains, — exactly  as  if  possessed, — ^remind  me  of  all  I 
have  heard  of  the  Sibyls  of  old,  who,  I  believe,  were  nothing 
more  than  improvisatrice,  except  that  they  spoke,  and  were 
heard,  under  the  belief  of  their  oracular  divine  mission. 


Digitized  by 


Google 


BOiCAir  fOETS.  279 


LETTEE  LXXXIV. 

POETET,  LlTEEATXTBE,  AITO  SOIENCE. 

Theeb  are  few  places  in  which  the  Latin  classics  are  more 
generally  studied,  or  underatood,  than  at  Eome,  nor  are  the 
ffreat  Italian  poets  less  duly  appreciated.  There  is  not  a 
fine  of  Dante,  or  Tasso,  or  Petrarch,  that  is  not  diligently 
conned.  Yet,  in  spite  of  all  this  studying  of  poets,  there  is 
no  poetry.  IHdes  of  verae  are  poured  forth  in  an  unceasmg 
flow,  but  nothing  remains.  They  all  pass  into  the  quiet 
Btream  of  oblivion. 

Of  all  the  innumerable  living  poets  of  Eome,  there  is  not 
one  whose  works  I  ever  yet  could  read  to  an  end ;  perhaps, 
therefore,  I  am  not  competent  to  give  an  opinion  xfpon  their 
merits ;  and  posterity,  I  suspect,  will  not  have  the  means  of 
deciding  upon  them.  It  certainly  proves  a  disinterested  love 
of  the  Muses,  that  there  should  be  so  many  of  their  votaries 
in  a  country  where  a  poet  must  be  poor,  and  where  indeed 
no  author  can  easily  make  any  money;  but  these  capricious 
ladies  do  by  no  means  seem  to  respond  to  the  passion  enter- 
tained for  them,  or  bless  with  their  favours  theur  importunate 
Eoman  suitors. 

If  I  am  not  struck  with  the  charms  of  their  verse,  I  am 
scarcely  more  captivated  mth  their  prose.  Its  tedious  for- 
mality, its  unvaried  dulness,  and  its  wearisome  verbosity,  are 
inconceivable,  except  to  those  who  have  laboured  at  it ;  and 
these  qualities,  witn  few  exceptions,  are  characteristic  alike 
of  the  old  and  new  writers.  At  least,  I  can  truly  say  that, 
during  the  two  years  that  have  elapsed  since  I  jBrst  came  to 
Home,  not  a  work  has  passed  the  press  to  which  their  own 
expressive  *  Seccatura!*  does  not  apply.  Why  they  always 
thmk  it  necessary  to  involve  their  meaning,  wlien  they  have 


Digitized  by 


Google 


280  -ROUT.. 

any,  in  such  a  cloud  of  words,  is  more  tban  I  can  pretend  to 
explain.  Neither  do  I  understand  how  it  hiwpens,  that  men 
who  in  conversation  are  so  deyer  and  entertaining,  should  in 
their  writings  be  so  tedious  and  stupid. 

These  observations,  in  some  measure,  applj  not  to  IBome 
only,  but  to  the  whole  of  Italy.  At  the  same  time,  wide  is 
the  difference  at  present  between  the  south  and  the  north  of 
this  country.  Tbe  scale  of  intellectual  gradation  may  be 
said  to  rise  regularly  with  the  degrees  of  latitude,  firom 
Naples  to  Milan.  It  is  there  you  must  look  for  literature 
and  science.  It  is  there,  too,  that  the  last  poets  of  Italy 
flourished.  Perhaps  I  ought  to  speak  in  the  present  tense, 
for  Pindemonte  is  still  alive,  tmd  it  would  be  ungrateful  to 
pass  over  one  who  sang  the  praise  of  the  beauty,  the  virtue, 
and  the  mental  charms  and  graces  of  my  countrywomen,  in 
strains  that  ought  to  live.  Passerone*s  poems,  too,  possess 
great  merit ;  but  none,  in  my  opinion,  are  equal  to  Tarini, 
the  Pope  of  Italy,  whose  admirable  Oiomati,  in  ♦ts  witty 
strain  of  satire,  may  even  court  a  comparison  with  the  Eape 
of  the  Lock. 

Like  Pope,  too,  he  was  deformed,  and  even  from  childhood 
a  cripple;  and  like  Bums,  this  elegant  satirist,  the  idol 
and  the  scourge  of  drawing-rooms,  and  the  bugbear  of  a 
court,  raised  himself  from  the  station  of  a  ploughman,  and 
struggled  with  poverty  and  with  hardship,  cruelly  aggra- 
vated by  a  long  life  of  sickness  and  suffering.  He  wrote 
many  admirable  pieces,  but  La  Qiomata  is  by  far  the  best.* 

With  this  sohtary  exception, — and  we  can  scarcely  call 
that  a  poem  of  the  day,  which  has  been  read  nearly  half  a 
century, — ^the  most  popular  modem  poems  in  Italy  are,  at 
present,  translations'  from  the  Enghsh ;  and  Ossian  and  The 
seasons  are  scarcely  less  admired  m  the  vales  of  Italy  than 
among  their  native  Caledonian  moimtains.  Poetic  genius, 
indeed,  seems  to  have  taken  its  flight  to  our  favoured  island, 
and  while  the  names  and  the  lays  of  Byron,  Campbell,  Scott, 
Moore,  Crabbe,  Wordsworth,  &c.  &c.,  resound  beneath  our 
gloomy  skies,  none  have  caught  the  ear  of  Fame,  in  the 

*  It  is  divided  into  four  parts/  *  II  Mattino,  il  Meriggio,  il  Vespro,  e 
la  Notte ;'  and  gives  an  exqaisite  satirical  picture  of  the  life  of  an 
Italian  fashionable. 


Digitized  by 


Google 


POETBT   OF  ITALY.  281 

country  which  would  seem  to  be  the  native  land,  and  to 
boast  tne  native  language  of  song. 

The  modem  bards  of  England  surpass  those  of  Italy  as 
much  as  the  immortal  poets  of  Italy's  better  days  excel 
all  other  nations.  I  scarcely  know  how  to  name  another 
modem  Italian  poet, — Ugo  !Fosco1o*s  prose  is  better  than 
his  verse,  and  neither  are  of  pre-eminent  merit. 

Casti  is  dead ;  and  his  Animali  Farlawti,  though  it  had  all 
the  advantages  of  being  prohibited,  first  by  Bonaparte,  and 
next  by  the  existing  government,  is,  in  my  humble  opinion, 
more  talked  of  than  read,  more  praised  than  admired,  and 
more  admired  than  it  deserves.  The  strain  of  bitter  sar- 
casm which  runs  through  it,  shows  quite  as  much  malignity 
as  wit ;  and  who  can  read  with  patience  the  colloquies  of 
lions  and  other  beasts,  through  three  long  volumes  ? 

No  work  of  modem  dajs  boasts  any  of  the  fire  of  fancy — 
the  bright  creations  or  mspired  spirit  of  true  poetry ;  and, 
sickened  with  the  dull,  maudlin  common-place  that  is  thrust 
upon  one  in  every  circle,  one  is  tempted  to  ask  one's  self  if 
this  is  reaUy  the  coimtry  that  produced  an  Ariosto  ?  But 
it  did  produce  Ariosto,  and  that  is  atonement  sufficient. 
One  delightful  flight  of  his  imagination  is  worth  all  that 
Italy  has  to  boast  in  latter  days. 

His  inexhaustible  beauties  and  magic  creations,  that 
master  both  the  fancy  and  the  heart,  have  to  me  a  witchery 
beyond  all  that  the  strains,  even  of  my  native  language, 
ever  possessed.  But  it  is  not  the  present  fashion  among 
the  critics,  who  judge  from  rule,  and  do  not  venture  to  trust 
to  the  true  unbiassed  voice  of  native  taste  and  feeling,  to 
extol  Ariosto, — I  mean  as  compared  to  Dante,  and  Petrarch, 
and  Tasso,  and  aU  these  more  regularly  marchrug  poets. 
How  little  must  they  have  ever  felt  his  enchantment  I 

But  it  is  excess  of  presumption*  in  me  to  oppose  their 
decision  on  such  a  subject,  and  Ariosto  alone  can  be  my 
excuse. 

The  Italian  drama,  I  have  already  observed,  is  poor 
indeed,  compared  to  ours.  Poets  out  of  nimiber  have 
written  plays,  but  none  of  them  have  risen  to  any  name  or 
reputation,  either  in  or  out  of  Italy,  excepting  Alfieri  and 
Goldoni,  of  whose  works  you  have  perhaps  already  dis- 


Digitized  by 


Google 


2R2  BOKi. 

covered  that  I  am  not  so  enthusiastic  an  admirer  as  many  of 
my  countrymen. 

Italian  literature  has  one  great  desideratum,  that  of 
noyels.  You  will  stare  and  tell  me  of  Boccaccio,  and  all  his 
tribe  of  imitators ;  but,  not  to  mention  their  licentiousness, 
their  novelli  are  not  what  we  call  novels.  This  will  be 
sufficiently  evident  without  reading  them  (which  I  by  no 
means  counsel  you  to  do),  from  their  size.  When  a  hundred 
and  one  tales  go  to  the  making  up  of  an  octavo  volume,  it  is 
plain  they  must  be  of  a  different  species.  These  are,  perhaps, 
peculiar  to  Italy ;  but  Italy  has  nothing  to  put  in  competi- 
tion with  the  mcomparable  Don  Quixote  and  Gil  Bias,  of 
Spain  and  France;  and  with  these  exceptions,  England 
stands  unrivalled  in  this  delightful  species  of  composition, 
to  which  every  passing  year  now  adds  new  and  imperishable 
treasures. 

The  style  and  matter  of  the  periodical  publications,  more 
especially  of  the  critical  journals  of  Italy,  are,  beyond  all 
comparison,  beneath  those  of  England,  and  are  as  remark- 
able for  their  unwearied  dulness  and  verbosity,  as  ours  for 
their  wit  and  ability.  The  restrictions  on  the  freedom  of 
the  press,  are  doubtless,  in  a  great  measure,  the  cause  of  this. 
So  curbed,  English  journals  could  scarcely  have  been  much 
better. 

If  literature  is  not  in  a  very  flourishing  condition  at 
Eome,  science  is  still  less  prosperous.  It  has  ever  been  the 
policy  of  the  Papal  government,  &om  the  days  of  Gralileo  to 
the  present  time,  to  discourage,  as  much  as  possible,  the 
search  after  truth.  A  spirit  of  inquiry,  or  of  philosc^hical 
investigation,  is  that  which  it  most  deprecates.  Conse- 
quently, the  few  who  have  any  glimmermgs  of  light  upon 
such  subjects,  are  glad  to  hide  their  talent  in  a  napkin,  as  if 
it  were  a  crime.    It  is,  indeed,  true  that  the  study  of  anti- 

3uities  is  now  unprohibited;  that  there  is  no  longer  any 
^aul  II.  to  seize  upon  a  whole  academy  of  antiquaries, 
throw  them  chained  into  dungeons,  and  put  them  to  the 
torture,  as  conspirators  and  heretics ;  and  that  the  name  of 
academy  may  now  be  pronounced,  either  in  jest  or  earnest, 
without  being  guilty  of  heresy.*  Abundant  use  has  been 
*  PaoluB  tftmeQ  bmrttticQs  eos  pronuxiciavlt  qui  nomea  Academisd,  vel 


Digitized  by 


Google 


NATrBAX  ANTIQUITIES.  283 

made  of  this  privilege :  academies  of  all  kinds  and  sorts  have 
been  formed;  books  without  end  have  been  written,  and 
still  accumulated  discussions  daily  appear  on  the  hundred- 
times-discussed  brick  walls  and  other  unintelligible  frag- 
ments of  the  antiquities  of  Eome. — ^But  the  antiquities  of 
Nature  are  left  unexplored.  This  term  may  be  allowed  me, 
for  the  lavas  of  the  Campagna  of  Eome,  which  may  be  seen 
at  the  Capo  di  Bove  (the  tomb  of  Cecilia  Metella),  are  con- 
sidered by  geologists  to  be  even  of  higher  antiquity  than 
those  which  are  found  below  the  foundations  of  the  houses, 
and  with  which  the  streets  are  paved  at  Herculaneum  and 
Pompeii,  and  which,  therefore,  must  have  been  deposited 
many  ages  before  the  foundation  of  those  cities ;  and  when 
we  reflect,  that  from  the  earliest  records  of  time,  not  even 
tradition  had  told  of  volcanic  eruption  here,  we  are  startled 
at  the  visible  trace  of  these  subterranean  fires,  which  we 
know  have  been  extinguished  at  least  during  three  thousand 
years,  and  are  compelled  to  ascribe  the  devastating  torrents 
we  behold,  to  a  penod  almost  coeval  with  the  birth  of  time.* 

The  marine  shells  (bivalves)  which  are  found  in  immense 
number,  imbedded  in  clay,  on  the  summit  of  Monte  Mario,t 
twenty  miles  from  the  coast,  and  also  on  the  top  of  the 
Apennines,  afford  a  curious  proof  that  the  ocean  has  had  its 
changes  as  well  as  the  land,  and  that  Italy  has  been  inun- 
dated vdth  torrents  of  water  as  well  as  of  fire. 

These  shells,  which  are  in  perfect  preservation,  are,  gene- 
rally at  Bome,  referred  to  the  time  of  the  deluge ;  andnow- 
ever  that  may  be,  when  we  think  of  the  thousands  of  years 

aerio  Tel  joco,  deinceps  commemorarent. — Vide  '  Lives  of  the  Popes,'  by 
Platina  (in  Paulo  II.),  or  P.  L.  Guing6ii6  (torn.  iii.  chap.  21),  'Histoire 
liitt^raire  d'ltalie,'  where  I  met  with  this  curious  statement : — The  Pope 
had  seized  Pomponius  Lsetus,  and  his  whole  Academy  of  antiquaries, — 
Platina  himself  among  the  rest, — and  after  confining  them  in  dungeons 
and  chains  for  nearly  two  years,  and  torturing  them  until  one  died  in 
the  rack,  he  was  compelled  virtually  to  acknowledge  their  innocence, 
by  his  inability  to  produce  a  single  proof  of  their  guilt,  and  at  lengUi 
liberated  them,  enacting  the  above-mentioned  sapient  law. 

*  The  lavas  of  the  Capo  di  Bove  consist  of  eighteen  different  beds, 
or  strata,  forming  the  most  complete  and  instructive  series  of  volcanic 
substances  known.  They  contain  lencite,  augite,  zeolite,  and  nephelii^ 
besides  a  great  variety  of  undescribed  substances. 

f  A  steep  hill  two  miles  from  Rome. 


Digitized  by 


Google 


284  HOME. 

tbey  have  unquestionably  lain  there,  they  may,  ae  well  as 
the  lavaB,  safely  lay  claim  to  the  title  I  have  given  them  of 
natural  antiquities. 

But  the  wide  field  of  research  which  is  open  to  the 
naturalist  in  the  vicinity  of  Rome,  is  little  regarded,  except 
by  a  few  passing  strangers. 

I  am  no  botanist,  but  it  is  impossible  for  the  eye  of  a 
florist,  or  of  a  lover  of  nature,  not  to  be  struck  with  the 
variety  and  prodigality  of  beauly  which  paint  the  hills,  the 
woods,  and  the  plains  around  Eome,  when  the  breath  of 
spring  wakes  tne  vegetable  creation  into  life.  Fields 
covered  over  with  patches  of  purple  anemones ;  others  blue 
with  hyacinths;  others  yellow  with  a  pretty  species  of 
ranunculus ;  others  white  with  little  bulbous-rooted  plants, 
like  crocuses.  The  cliffs  and  rocky  hills  abound  in  shrubs 
similar  to  the  laburnum,  but  of  a  mfferent  species,  and  with 
Daphnes,  Passerinas,  and  Euphorbiums;  the  woods  with 
Primulas,  Yerbascums,  and  Cyclamens.  The  common  daisy 
is  generalljr  found  twice  as  large  as  in  our  cottage  gardens, 
and  its  crimson  tips  are  infinitely  more  brilliant.  I  am 
assured  by  one  of  our  first  English  botanifets,  that  the 
botanical  riches  of  this  country,  particularly  in  the  month  of 
March,  and  about  Albano,  La  Eiccia,  and  Velletri,  are 
scarcely  to  be  equalled  in  Europe ;  and  that,  excepting  the 
plain  of  Grenada,  there  is  no  other  equal  to  the  Campagna 
of  Eome;  indeed,  the  fine  luxuriant  leaves  of  the  plants 
that  cover  it,  as  well  as  the  rich  tints  of  the  flowers,  seem  to 
afford  the  strongest  proof  of  the  excellent  quality  of  the 
soil. 

"  I  wish,"  said  a  botanist  to  me  one  day,  carried  away  by 
his  enthusiasm  for  his  favourite  pursuit, — "  I  wish  I  could 
give  you  any  idea  of  the  scenes  presented  every  day  to  a 
botanical  eye  in  Italy.  Nothing  can  exceed  tne  pleasure 
and  delight  which  they  afford;  and  whatever  may  be  the 
superior  beauty  of  tropical  climates,  there  is  one  charm 
attached  to  the  Itahan  plants,  of  which  they  can  never  be 
deprived — I  mean  that  many  of  them  are  mentioned  by 

So  great  is  the  variety  of  plants  that  have  rooted  them- 
selves upon  the  ancient  walls  of  the  Colosseum  alone,  that 


Digitized  by 


Google 


STATE   or   BCIEKCX.  285 

Sebastiani,  the  professor  of  botany  at  Eome,  published  a 
work  in  quarto,  entitled  *  Flora  Colisea,'  in  which  he  describes 
260  different  kinds  that  are  found  there.  But  I  am  in- 
formed this  does  not  nearly  include  the  whole,  which,  with 
the  various  sorts  of  mosses  and  lichens,  amount  to  upwards 
of  300  species.  Nearly  one  quarter  of  these  are  papilio- 
naceous ;  and  there  are  three  sorts  of  hyacinths  (one  very 
beautiful)  peculiar  to  the  vicinity  of  Eome.  The  remainder 
of  the  plants  of  the  Colosseum  are  chiefly  such  as  are  found 
on  old  walls  in  the  south  of  Europe. 

At  Eome,  however,  the  botanical  garden  is  scarcely  worth 
a  visit.  The  science  seems  fallen  into  total  neglect,  and  the 
professorship  is  a  sinecure.  At  Pisa  and  Padua  the  plants 
are  arranged  according  to  the  system  of  Toumefort,  not  of 
LinnsBus.  The  gardens  in  both  places  are  very  well  kept, 
and  filled  with  a  great  variety  of  beautiful  plants ;  so  also  is 
the  botanical  garden  at  Naples.  Many  of  the  finest  have 
been  described,  and  beautifully  portrayed  by  Dr.  Tenore,  in 
his  superb  work,  the  *  Flora  Neapolitana.'  But  with  this 
exception,  nothing  can  be  more  mert  than  the  spirit  of 
science  at  Naples,  although  one  would  suppose  that  the 
wonderful  phenomena  of  Nature  in  its  vicinity  would  rouse 
the  observation  and  inquiry,  even  of  the  most  obtuse  minds. 
In  the  north  of  Italy,  on  the  contrary,  amidst  its  flat,  un- 
varied, alluvial  plains,  science  and  philosophy  have  of  late 
made  rapid  advances,  and  almost  aU  the  scientific  men  that . 
Italy  can  boast,  are  to  be  found  there,  particularly  at 
Bologna  and  Milan.  Many  other  cities,  no  doubt,  can  boast 
men  of  science  and  erudition ;  but  Milan,  upon  the  whole, 
struck  me  as  being  the  metropolis  of  literary  talent,  as 
Borne  is  of  art.  Schools,  on  the  Lancasterian  plan,  have 
lately  been  established  there,  under  the  direction  of  Count 
Gonfalonieri, — a  decisive  sign  of  the  active  spirit  of  improve- 
ment which  distinguishes  this  enlightened  city. 

But  Milan  is  not  my  theme,  nor  Modena, — though  I 
must  stop  to  observe  that  the  celebrated  Amici,  a  native  of 
that  place,  has  brought  the  microscope  to  a  wonderful  degree 
of  perfection,  and  has  completely  succeeded  in  conquering 
the  difficulty  of  increasing  the  magnifying  power,  without 
^iminiwliing  the  light ;  £rom  which  defect  in  the  old  micro- 


Digitized  by 


Google 


286  SOME. 

scope,  the  more  tlie  object  was  magnified,  the  more  confused 
it  became,  and  it  was  impossible  to  obtain  a  perfect  image. 
In  the  best  of  this  kind,  the  light  was  only  0*0025,  but  in 
his  it  is  as  100 ;  and  the  magn%ing  power,  which  in  them 
never  exceeded  150  times,  in  his  may  be  increased  to  1000 
times :  while  the  object,  instead  of  being,  as  formerly,  con- 
fused and  indistinct,  is  perfectly  clear  and  defined. 

This  is  effected  bv  tne  rays  of  light  from  a  bright  lamp 
being  concentrated  oy  a  concaye  murror,  placed  laterally  to 
the  tube,  and  thrown  on  the  object ;  by  means  of  another 
concave  mirror,  of  an  elliptical  form,  placed  at  the  extremity 
of  the  tube,  and  by  a  small  plane  mirror  at  right  angles 
between  them,  a  magnified  and  distinct  image  of  the  object 
is  formed  in  the  focus,  and  is  viewed  througn  a  magnifying 
lens,  of  any  degree  of  power. 

At  Home,  however,  there  are  few  who  are  scientific,  or 
who  have  even  any  interest  in  science.  Nor  is  there  a 
single  museum  of  natural  history,  public  or  private,  worth 
looking  at. 


Digitized  by 


Google 


MABBIAOES  AlTD  FimiSBALB.  287 


LETTEE  LXXXV. 

CHrLDBIBTH — MiLltBIAaES    AlTD     FmirBEALS — DxT!(CTSf3t — 

Games — Flats,    akd    Commoit    States  —  Meat  — 

COOEDBBT — ^FOOD  FOB  THE   OOMMON  PeOPLE,  &C. 

Toxr  ask  me  so  many  questions,  inquire  so  much  about 
births,  marriages,  burials,  balls,  houses,  games,  meat,  cookeiy, 
Michael  Angelo,  wild  boars,  and  singrug-birds,  that  I  scarcely 
know  how  or  where  to  begin.  Some  of  these  questions  I 
belieye  I  hare  abeady  anticipated,  and  the  rest  I  shall  try  to 
answer  as  laconically  as  possible. 

It  is  certainly  true  that  women  seem  to  suffer  less  in 
childbirth  in  Italy — and  I  believe  in  all  warm  climates, 
where  the  muscles  are  more  relaxed — ^than  in  England,  or 
any  colder  country ;  but  they  hj  no  means  look  upon  it  as  a 
mere  joke,  nor  is  there  anything  entertaining  m  it, — ^for 
they  not  unfrequently  die.  Women  of  fortune  scarcely 
ever  nurse  their  children,  and  babies  of  all  degrees  are 
most  cruelly  cased  up  in  swaddling-clothes.  As  for  mar- 
riages, you  will  be  shocked  to  hear  that  there  is  a  great 
proportion  of  the  year  in  which  people  cannot  marry  at  all. 
The  forbidden  seasons  are  from  the  beginning  of  Advent  till 
the  seventh  day  of  the  new  year ;  and  from  the  beginning  of 
Lent  till  the  end  of  Easter.  Besides  these  stated  interreg- 
nums, the  people  voluntarily  refrain  from  marrying  on 
Friday, — a  day  which,  on  account  of  the  Crucifixion,  has 
been  esteemed  unlucky  in  all  Christian  countries. 

The  marriage  ceremony,  I  think,  differs  very  little  from 
that  of  the  Church  of  England,  except  in  a  few  signs  of  the 
cross  and  sprinklings  of  holy  water ;  and  people  are  dressed 
very  fine  to  look  happy,  and  cry  a  great  deal  to  look  miser- 
able ;  and  make  great  dinners,  wh^h  nobody  can  eat,  and 


Digitized  by 


Google 


288  SOME. 

receive  the  congratulations  of  their  friends,  which  nobody 
can  like, — just  as  they  do  in  England. 

Burials,  however,  are  conducted  after  a  very  different 
fashion.  In  no  part  of  Italy,  or  any  other  country,  have  I 
seen  such  long  and  lugubrious  funeral  processions  as  in 
Eome.  This  custom,  however,  is  confined  to  the  wealthy 
citizens,  for  the  lower  orders,  of  course,  cannot  afford  it, 
and  the  nobility,  possibly  for  the  same  reason,  do  not  prac- 
tise it.  But  when  a  rich  shopkeeper  or  any  of  his  family 
dies,  Eome  is  fiMed  with  the  funeral  train.  The  corpse, 
dressed  out  in  gay  and  splendid'  attire,  exactly  as  if  going 
to  a  ball,  with  the  cheeks  painted,  is  carried  at  the  close  of 
evening  through  the  streets  on  an  open  bier,  attended  by 
every  description  of  mourners  that  can  be  collected,  and 
invariably  followed  by  hired  deputations  of  friars  from  at 
least  three  or  four  different  convents,  clad  in  the  long  peni- 
tential garb  that  covers  even  the  head,  with  holes  cut  for 
the  eyes,  chanting  the  slow  and  solemn  service  for  the  dead. 
These  dismal  sounds, — the  long  funeral  procession  that 
Bometiiiies  fills  the  Corso  as  far  as  the  eye  can  reach,  seen 
by  the  lurid  glare  of  the  immense  wax  tapers  that  are  borne 
by  the  mourners,  and,  more  than  all,  the  shocking  sight  of 
the  corpse  itself,  exposed  to  view,  and  dressed  up,  as  if  in 
mockery,  with  the  unseemly  decorations  of  life  and  vanity, 
have  an  effect  upon  most  people's  nerves  that  is  far  from 
agreeable. 

In  every  respect, — in  the  open  bier,  the  corpse  clad  in  the 
garments  of  life,*  the  painted  face,  the  flaming  torches,t  the 
chanted  hymns,  the  hired  mourners,  J  the  long  procession, — 

*  Livy  (lib.  xxxiv.)  says  that  the  dead  were  clothed  in  the  robes  of 
their  oflSce,— exactly  as  an  officer  of  the  Ouarda  N chile  is  now  carried 
in  his  bier,  in  his  full-dress  uniform,  and  a  Cardinal  laid  out  in  his 
richest  vestments.  Juvenal  (Sat.  3, 1.  171)  observes,  that  great  part  of 
the  people  of  Italy  who  never  wore  the  toga  when  alive,  were  dressed 
in  it  when  dead. 

t  Persius,  Sat.  3, 1. 103.    ^n.  lib.  ii.  v.  142,  and  Ub.  ii.  v.  144. 


•  Lucet  via  longo 


Ordine  flammarum." 

X  The  PragficcR,  or  hired  mourners,  who,  however,  were  women,  used 
to  chant  the  funeral  song.    The  Romans  had  also  pUyexs  and  buffooas 


Digitized  by 


Google 


pthsteeai.  pbocbssions.  289 

in  all  the  pomp  and  circumstance, — ^tliese  modem  funerals 
remind  us  of  the  funerals  of  the  ancient  Bomans ; — and  it 
is  curious  to  see  a  similitude  in  such  minutiaB  after  the  lapse 
of  two  thousand  years,  and  a  change  of  religion  and  manners 
so  complete. 

The  homrgeoia  funeral  processions  are  always  on  foot,  for 
carriages  at  interments  are  a  privilege  confined  to  the  no- 
bility, whose  funerals  are  sometimes  almost  as  indecent 
from  the  want  of  proper  respect,  as  those  of  the  plebeians 
from  the  superabundance  of  parade.  In  these  noble  funerals 
the  body  is  enclosed,  as  it  snould  be,  in  a  coffin ;  but  this 
coffin,  instead  of  being  carried  in  a  hearse,  or  on  a  bier,  is 
put  into  a  coach,  and  being  much  too  long  for  the  vehicle, 
one  end  of  it  sticks  out  at  one  of  the  windows,  while  four 
piests,  who  occupy  the  four  corners,  chant  the  service  as 
fast  as  ever  they  can ;  the  lighted  tapers  they  bear  in  their 
hand,  twinkling  about  and  dropping  as  they  go.  A  few 
livery  servants,  also  bearing  lights,  precede  the  coach  on 
foot;  and  this  is  all!  No  sorrowing  friends  or  relations 
attend,  to  their  last  home,  the  remains  of  one  whom  they 
were  bound  to  love  and  honour.  At  least  in  all  the  funerals 
I  have  seen,  including  those  of  members  of  some  of  the 
most  ancient  and  opulent  families  of  Italy, — ^the  Doria,  the 
Colonna,  and  the  Piano, — ^they  were  conducted  in  this  man- 
ner. The  body,  whether  of  prince  or  plebeian,  always  lies 
all  night  in  the  church  in  which  it  is  to  be  interred,  and  is 
consigned  to  the  vault  the  following  morning. 

When  any  member  of  a  noble  Soman  ramily  dies,  it  is 
cufitomary  to  send  round  billets  to  all  the  nobility  with 
whom  he  had  the  slightest  acquaintance,  to  request  them 
to  pray  for  the  soul  of  the  deceased. 

we  saw  the  fimeral  of  a  Cardinal  the  other  day.  He 
was  laid  out  on  a  sort  of  large  state-bed,  in  a  church, 
dressed  in  his  richest  robes  of  state,  with  diamond  buckles 
in  his  shoes,  and  his  face  painted  so  yetj  like  life,  that, 
during  the  whole  ceremony,  we  could  not  help  expecting 
to  see  him  get  up  every  moment.  After  a  very  long  and 
peculiar  bunal-service, — for  Cardinals  have  one  of  their 

to  perfonn  their  antics  before  the  bier;  iw  plays  were  originally  tatro* 
daced  as  religioiis  ceremonies.    Vide  Letter  XXYI. 

TOIi.  II.  U 


Digitized  by 


Google 


290  liOMS. 

own,  the  Pope,  who  had  '  assisted/  as  they  call  it,  that  is, 
he  had  sat  still  and  heard  it,  at  last  got  up,  and  having 
prayed^  or  seemed  to  pray,  beside  the  bed,  for  the  Oardinal's 
soul,  he  walked  twice  round  it,  sprinkling  it  with  holy 
water,*  throwing  up  clouds  of  incense,  and  so  the  ceremony 
ended.  The  Pope  and  the  Cardinal  were  each  put  into 
their  respective  coaches.  The  Pope  went  to  his  present 
home  to  eat  his  dinner,  the  Cardinal  to  his  long  home, 
not  to  eat,  but  to  be  eaten. 

I  since  overheard^  to  my  great  amazement,  an  old  woman 
lament  herself  that  her  son,  who  was  very  iU,  had  not  died 
that  dqy.  On  enq^uiry,  she  told  me  that  a  Cardinal  always 
carries  up  with  him  to  heaven  all  those  who  die  between 
the  period  of  his  death  and  burial.  This  accounts  for  an 
old  painting  I  once  saw  on  the  mildewed  wall  of  an  Italian 
church,  representing  a  Cardinal  in  the  act  of  flying  upwards, 
with  a  number  of  people  hanging  to  his  skirts — ^which  must 
be  a  very  convenient  mode  of  bemg  smuggled  into  heaven. 

Home,  I  think,  is  the  only  great  city  of  Italy  in  which 
the  abominable  practice  of  burying  exclusively  in  churches 
is  persisted  in.  At  Naples,  and  some  other  places,  they  do 
occasionally  inter  the  great  in  them ;  but  stiU  they  have 
the  Campo  Santo  for  the  mass  of  the  people.  At  Florence, 
and  most  of  the  towns  in  Tuscany,  there  is  a  large  burying- 
ground  without  the  citv ;  but  of  all  cemeteries  I  have  ever 
seen,  that  at  Bologna  pleased  me  the  most.  It  was  formerly 
a  Certosa  convent:  the  cloister  contains  the  tombs  of  the 
rich ;  the  central  enclosure,  the  graves  of  the  poor.  It  is 
beautifully  kept,  a^d,  without  exception,  the  cleanest  place 
in  Italy. 

Prom  burials  to  balls.  What  can  I  tell  you  of  them? 
BftUs  are  much  the  same  all  the  world  over :  People  put  on 
gay  dresses  and  faces,  and  smiles  and  civility;  outwardly 
everybody  is  alike,  but  inwardly,  what  different  feelings 
agitate  every  heart !  It  would  be  curious  to  analyse  what 
degrees  of  pleasure,  pride,  anger,  hatred,  malice,  envy,  mor- 
tification, vanity,  ana  a  thousand  other  opposing  passions, 

*  The  iincient  Romans  besprinkled  the  monmeis  at  funerals  with 
Instral  or  holj  water  three  timea^  bat  nol^  I  believe,  the  dead  body. — 
JEoL  lib.  Vii 


Digitized  by 


Google 


KATIOMFAL  BA170SS.  291 

go  to  the  making  up  of  every  ball,  what  schemes  are  in 
people's  heads,  and  what  thoughts  in  their  hearts  !  But  I 
presume  you  do  not  want  the  morale  of  it,  only  the  out- 
ward show.  AU  the  difference,  then,  that  I  can  discoTer 
between  a  ball  here,  and  a  ball  at  home,  is,  that  the  Italian 
ladies  have  finer  jewels,  and  the  English  ladies  prettier 
faces ;  that  the  Italian  gentlemen  are  more  easily  attracted, 
and  the  English  gentlemen  better  worth  attracting;  that 
here,  people  eat  more  ice,  and  no  supper ;  and  dance  more 
quadrilles,  and  no  country  dances.*  They  waltz,  too,  at  all 
their  balls,  but  not  remarkably  well.  The  Germans  and 
Swedes  surpass  the  rest  of  the  world  in  the  waltz.  The 
Neapolitans,  I  thought,  almost  excelled  the  French  them- 
selves in  quadrille  dancing.  There  was  no  exertion,  no 
effort,  no  showing  off.  It  was  the  most  easy  and  natural, 
yet  smooth  and  graceM  motion  in  the  world. 

I  have  never  seen  the  Tarantella,  that  extraordinary  dance 
that  is  supposed  to  be  involuntarily  caused  by  the  bite  of 
the  tarantula,  and  to  work  its  cure ;  but  it  may  be  doubted 
whether  this  dance  be  really  independent  of  volition  or 
not ;  for  as  the  tarantula  is  found  all  over  Italy,  it  is  proba- 
ble that  it  sometimes  bites  people  in  other  places ;  yet  it 
ia  only  at  Naples  that  they  are  seized  with  this  dance; 
and  even  there,  it  is  not  to  be  supposed  that  it  always 
refrains  from  putting  its  fangs  into  the  bodies  of  the  higher 
•orders  ;  yet  none  of  them  are  ever  attacked  with  it. 

The  lower  class  of  Eomans,  I  think  I  told  you,  are  no 
great  dancers:  except  at  the  conclusion  of  the  vintage, 
when  they  come  into  Eome  like  a  set  of  Bacchanals,  dan- 
cing, leapmg,  bearing  torches,  and  playing  on  musical  instru- 
ments ;  and  at  the  Bacchanalian  sports  which  ensue,  at  that 
period,  on  Monte  Testaccio,  little  dancing  goes  forward. 

The  Saltarello,  as  its  name  implies,  is  a  dance  of  great 
action,  and  is,  for  the  most  part,  confined  to  the  Trasteve- 
rini.  I  have  already  mentioned  the  Morra,  and  the  Buzzica, 
and  some  other  games,  chiefly  practised  amongst  them, 
which  seem  to  be  of  ancient  Koman  origin.  There  is  also 
the  JPallone,  a  game  at  ball,  common,  I  believe,  throughout 

*  The  old  Bnglifih  dance  was  not  then  (1820)  exploded  in 
Kngland; 

r  2 


Digitized  by 


Google 


292  KOioc. 

Italy,  and  played  by  two  parties,  who  throw  the  paUone, 
or  great  leathern  ball,  from  one  to  another,  by  means  of  the 
hracciale,  a  wooden  instrument  covered  with  knobs,  in  which 
they  thrust  their  arms.  It  seems  to  be  very  similar  to  the 
game  of  ball,  which  the  Eoman  philosophers  of  old  used  to 
practise  by  way  of  exercise  and  amusement.  There  is  also 
a  game  of  foot-baU  among  the  modem  Italians,  called  Caldo, 
which  I  have  never  seen. 

The  people  here  live  in  flats,  and  have  a  common  stair,  as 
in  Edinburgh ;  a  plan  by  no  means  confined  to  that  much 
vilified  ciiy,  or  even  to  this — but  common  throughout 
France,  Italy,  Spain,  and  Portugal.  Though  by  no  means 
conducive  to  cleanliness  or  comfort,  it  is  highly  favourable 
to  grandeur  of  appearance,  and  architectural  effect :  for  by 
this  means  the  houses  are  built  upon  so  much  larger  a  scale, 
that  their  exterior  is  susceptible  of  fine  design  and  orna- 
ment ;  and  even  when  plain,  or  in  bad  taste,  it  is  scarcely 
possible  they  should  not  have  a  more  noble  air  than  the 
mean,  paltry,  little  rows  of  houses  in  England  and  Holland, 
where  everybody  must  have  one  of  his  own.  It  is  the  office 
of  a  mason  to  build  these  rows  of  plain  walls  with  holes  for 
doors  and  windows  in  them,  that  constitute  the  houses  in 
English  towns ;  but  it  is  that  of  the  architect  to  erect  them 
on  the  Continent. 

There  is  one  peculiarity  of  the  flats  of  Eome,  which 
(thank  Heaven!)  cannot  be  found  in  Edinburgh.  As  you  go 
up  a  comipion  stair  here,  you  observe  a  square  grating  in 
every  door.  Knock  at  one  of  them — somebody  comes, 
uncloses  ths  wooden  shutter  that  covers  it,  and  eyes  you 
suspiciously  through  the  bars  before  he  ventures  to  open  it 
—and  this  at  noonday !  Wherever  you  live  in  Eome,  you 
must  be  content  to  live  on  a  common  stair.  If  your  abode 
be  a  palace,  it  will  be  the  same  thing.  The  most  you  can 
hope  for  is  a  prvmo  or  secondo  piano  to  yourself.  Lodgings 
for  single  gentlemen,  or  smsul  families,  abound;  upon  a 
larger  scale,  it  is  more  diflicult  to  find  accommodation.  On 
the  whole,  however,  th^  are  tolerably  commodious,  and  by 
no  means  exorbitant.  Living  is  very  good  throughout  Italy, 
in  large  towns ;  miserably  b^  in  the  country.  Tor  instance, 
you  are  sure  to  find  plenty  of  milk  and  butter  in  a  cit^,  but 


Digitized  by 


Google 


ITALIAN  COOKEET.  293 

none  amidst  fields  and  fann-houses.  Eome  is  well  suppKed 
with  good  cow's  milk  and  cream,  and  butter.  Asses,  too, 
are  brought  to  your  door  morning  and  evening,  to  be  milked 
if  you  choose  it, — a  great  advantage  to  invaEds ;  but  cows 
do  not  perambulate  the  streets  here,  as  at  Naples,  for  that 
purpose,  with  bells  to  their  necks.*  Butcher-meat  at  Eome 
IS  plentiful,  but  not  cheap.  The  price  is  kept  up  by  the 
absurd  interference  of  GTovemment.  Beef  is  good,  but,  by 
a  curious  prejudice,  it  is  very  little  used  at  the  tables  of  the 
higher  orders,  being  considered  a  coarse,  gross  kind  of  food, 
only  fit  for  the  vulgar — ^and  the  English.  Veal  is  accounted 
a  delicagr ;  it  is  dear,  and  what  in  England  would  be  called 
bad.  Mutton  is  not  good  here,  nor  in  any  part  of  Italy. 
Pork  is  thought  very  fine.  Kid  is  much  used,  and  is  sweet 
and  delicate,  but  as  inferior  to  lamb,  as  goat's  fiesh  is  to 
mutton.  The  fish  is  not  remarkably  good.  Gtane  is 
abundant,  cheap,  and  excellent.  Q-eese  are  not  eaten  at  all. 
Pigeons  are  large,  strong-fiavoured,  and  not  unlike  ducks. 
In  fact,  neither  meat  nor  poultry  are  so  good  in  any  part  of 
the  Continent  as  in  England.  The  Erench  cooks  certainly 
excel  ours — perhaps  because  the  meat  is  worse;  just  as 
Scotland  produces  the  best  gardeners,  having  the  worst  soil 
and  climate.  Italian  cookery,  however,  in  large  towns,  is 
reasonably  good.  In  country  inns,  jou  must  expect  to  be 
poisoned  with  oil  and  garlic,  in  spite  of  all  your  precau- 
tionary prohibitions  against  olio  and  (wlio;'\  but  this  is  of 
less  consequence,  because,  in  these  places,  there  is  seldom 
anything  to  cook. 

At  Eome,  strangers  who  live  in  private  lodgings,  generally 
have  dinners  sent  home  to  them  from  a  trattoria  in  the 
Piazza  di  Spagna.  The  dishes  are  all  conveyed  in  a  large 
basket,  lined  with  tin,  with  a  little  stove  or  iron  heater 
inside;  so  that  they  are  quite  hot,  and  very  good — ^but 
certainly  not  cheap,  for  they  are  very  scanty  in  quantity,  and 

*  When  at  Kaples,  I  was  astonished  to  find  that  the  milk,  which  was 
drawn  from  the  cow  at  the  door,  was  so  thin  and  blue.  At  last  it  was 
discovered  that  the  milkman  had  contrived  to  adulterate  it  with  water, 
which  he  carried  in  a  bladder  mider  his  cloak,  although  constantly 
watched  by  our  servant. 

t  Oil  and  garlick. 


Digitized  by 


Google 


294  BOMS. 

cost  ten  pauls,  or  about  &ve  shiUings,  per  Kead,  without  wine, 
bread,  or  dessert. 

Some  English  families,  whose  lodgiogs  had  the  lare 
appendage  of  a  kitchen,  tried  the  plan  of  haying  dinner 
dressed  at  home,  but  their  cooks  cheated  them  so  umnerci- 
fullj,  that  they  were  nearly  ruined ;  they  then  made  a  con- 
tract with  them,  and  were  nearly  starved. 

But  English  habits  and  acccoomodations  must  necessarily 
spread  rapidly  throughout  Italy,  with  the  unceasing  torrent 
of  English  traveUers  and  English  wealth  which  pours  into  it. 
The  indux  of  strangers,  indeed,  into  this  countiy  is  astonish- 
ing, but  they  are  aU  fix)m  the  north  of  Europe.  No 
Spaniards  or  Portuguese,  and  very  few  Erench,  are  to  be 
seen.  But  Germans,  Swedes,  Foles^  Bussians,  and  more 
especially  English,  descend  from  the  Alps  in  such  numbers, 
that  Borne  seems  in  danger  of  another  invasion  of  the 
Goths.  Americans  too — men  from  a  world  imknown  to 
the  Eomans — may  be  seen  gazing  at  the  ruined  monuments 
of  their  power  and  grandeur. 

**  Qu8B  tarn  seposita  est,  qnse  gens  tam  barbani,  Caesar, 
£z  qua  spectator  non  sit  in  arbe  toA  V  * 

The  lower  orders  certainly  live  upon  very  little  in  Italy. 
It  is  only  at  Naples  that  macaroni  is  the  food  of  the  people. 
At  Rome,  and  in  most  parts  of  Italy,  polenta,  a  sort  of 
pudding  made  of  Indian  com,  is  the  principal  article  of 
subsistence:  probably  the  same  as  the  polenta  of  the 
ancients.t  This  is  varied  with  the  luscious  pods  of  the 
caruba  tree  ;  J  the  ahnond-tasfced  kernels  in  the  cones  of  the 
spreading  pine-tree ;  different  sorts  of  fruits,  particularly 
roasted  chesnuts,  which,  in  the  mountainous  parts  of  the 
country,  the  people  almost  live  upon;  and  various  kinds  of 
beans,  lupins,  and  lentils.  Of  course,  in  all  places  they  eat 
bread — ^when  they  can  get  it ;  and  cheese,  sausages,  Ac.,  are 
universally  liked.  Indeed,  these,  with  salt-^Mi  (haecaU^ 
and  .soup  (minestra),  made  chiefly  of  boiled  meat  or  maca- 
roni and  water,  and  mixed  with  a  little  grated  cheese,  are 

*  Martial. 

t  Pliny,  Hist  Nat.  lib.  xviiL  cap.  7. 

t  According  to  tradition,  the  tree  upon  which  Judas  hanged  himself. 


Digitized  by 


Google 


BOBDB  HABITS.  295 

their  luxuries.  But  the  thin,  sour,  ordinary  wine  of  the 
country,  is  indispensable  to  them ;  and,  truth  to  say,  in  the 
heat  of  summer,  it  is  far  from  being  an  unpleasant  beverage. 
It  is  considered  at  its  perfection  in  a  year — *  Vino  d'  un' 
anno'  is  proverbially  good. 

Sobriety  is  a  national  virtue  here,  as  in  most  warm 
climates ;  and  indeed  no  quantity  of  such  wine  can  intoxi- 
cate ;  but  the  Italians,  of  all  ranks,  are  fond  of  rosolio  and 
other  liqueurs,  though  they  scarcely  ever  drink  them  to 
excess.  The  abstemious  habits  of  the  Italians  render 
seasons  of  scarcity,  when  they  do  occur,  peculiarly  dreadful. 
In  the  consumption  of  a  people  who  already  hve  upon  as 
little  as  wiU  support  human  nature,  no  reduction  can  be 
made.    Hence  scarcity  is  synonymous  With  famine. 

The  common  oaths  in  this  coimtry  have  such  a  classical 
sound  that  they  do  not  offend  your  ears.  The  people  swear 
hy  Bacchus,  either  *per  Bacco!'  —  *Corpo  di  Bacco!'  or 
*  Cospetto !'  (by  the  presence  of  Bacchus) : — or  else  they 
swear  by  Nero,  who  stands  them  instead  of  the  devil; — 
althougn  they  by  no  means  refrain,  like  other  Christians, 
'from  invoking,  personally,  that  much-caUed-for  personage. 

It  is  the  umversal,  and  extremely  disagreeable  custom  all 
over  Italy,  for  the  lower  orders  to  kiss  the  hands  of  their 
superiors, — ^a  custom,  by  the  way,  which  seems  to  have  come 
down  frx)m  the  ancients,  for  there  are  frequent  allusions  to 
it  in  the  classics.* 

^e  infatuation  of  the  lower  Orders  for  the  never-ceasing 
lotteries  which  go  on  here,  is  inconceivably  pernicious  to 
their  industry  and  morals,  and  brings  misery  and  ruin  upon 
thousands.  Too  dften  the  last  necessary  of  life,  taken  from 
a  starving  family,  i&  pawned  at  the  Monte  di  Fieta  to  pur- 
chase a  lottery-ticket.  The  scene  at  the  drawing  of  the 
lotteries  here,  maiy  be  a  study  for  the  paiuter  or  the  philo- 
sopher, but  it  is  a  painful  sight  for  a  man. 

These  MbnU  di  Fieta, — ^these  pawnbroking  and  banMnff 
concerns,  which  are  instituted  in  every  city  of  Italy,  are  said 
to  carry  on  rather  a  lucrative  traffic,  though  I  understand 

*  I  hftve  met  with  eevetal,  but  can  only  at  this  moment  instance 
one : — Tacitns  (Ann.  lib.  i.  cap.  34)  says  the  soldiers  flocked  round 
Oermanicus,  eager  to  kiss  his  hands  on  Ms  return  to  the  cainp. 


Digitized  by 


Google 


296  BOMS. 

their  prooeedings  are  equitable,  and  their  tendency  chari- 
table. They  lend  money  on  pledges,  or  on  proper  security, 
on  established  conditions,  tor  a  certain  period,  without 
interest ;  but  at  the  expiration  of  the  stipulated  term,  the 
pledge  or  security,  if  unredeemed,  is  forfeited,  unless  a  fixed 
rate  of  interest  be  paid  upon  the  loan. 

Such  an  establishment,  if  conducted,  by  a  respectable  com- 
pany in  England,  might  perhaps  protect  the  property  of  the 
poor  firom  the  rapaciousness  of  unprinciplea  pawnbrokers, 
and  the  property  of  the  rich  from  aepredation,  by  shutting 
up  one  great  channel  for  the  disposal  of  stolen  goods.  If 
conducted  with  the  same  secrecy  and  honour  as  in  Italy, 
many  an  unfortunate  being  might  receive,  upon  equitable 
terms,  timely  aid,  whose  honest  pride  cannot  brook  the  igno- 
miny of  an  open  application  to  a  pawnbroker. 

But  to  return  to  your  queries.  Of  Michael  Angelo  you 
have  heard,  by  this  tune,  I  am  sure,  more  than  enough.  Of 
wild  boars  there  are  great  abundance,  but  of  singing-birds 
very  few.  The  *  songsters  of  the  grove '  are  generally  eaten 
up ;  not  that  the  Itauans  are  quite  so  unmerciful  to  them  as 
the  French,  who  would  make  no  scruple  of  baking  "  four- 
and-twenty  nightingales  aU  in  a  pie,  if  they  could  get 
them ;  but  still  they  do  occasionally  make  a  classical  dinner 
upon  thrushes ;  or,  in  defeult  of  better,  string  a  dozen  cock- 
robins  on  one  little  spit. 

The  wild  boars  abound  among  the  Sabine  Hills  and  the 
wild  country  around  them.  The  peasants  shoot  them,  and 
bring  them  to  market  at  Eome.  Their  flesh  is  firm,  dark, 
high-flavoured,  and  delicious ;  as  different  as  possible  from 
pork,  both  in  appearance  and  taste.  Vegetables  are  the 
greatest  desideratum  at  an  Italian  table.  In  towns  they  are 
scarce  and  far  fi^m  good;  in  the  country  there  are  none. 
And  this  must  arise  from  the  indolence  of  the  people ;  for  in 
such  a  climate  and  soil  as  this,  with  good  management,  they 
might  have  the  finest  vegetables  of  aU  kinds,  all  the  year 
round. 

The  indolence  of  the  Italian  character,  indeed,  is  the 
feature  that,  from  first  to  last,  forces  itself  most  strongly  on 
the  stranger's  notice.  No  doubt  this  is  in  a  great  measure 
to  be  ascribed  to  the  climate ;  but  it  also  pardy  arises  from 


Digitized  by 


Google 


IKDOLEIfCB  AIO)  DISHOITBSTT.  297 

the  government,  the  institutions,  and  above  all — ^the  religion 
of  the  country.  Wherever  the  Eoman  Catholic  religion  is 
established,  1  have  uniformly  observed  indolence,  with  its 
concomitants,  dirt  and  beggary,  to  prevail;  and  the  more 
Catholic  is  the  place,  the  more  do  they  abound.  Spain  and 
Portugal,  and  Italy  and  Ireland,  might  be  quoted  as  examples; 
and  in  going  &om  the  Protestant  to  the  Eoman  Catholic 
cantons  of  Switzerland,  the  change  uniformly  struck  us. 

There  is  another  and  more  powerful  cause  in  Italy  for  the 
indolence  of  the  people, — the  constitution  of  socieiy.  It  is 
framed  so  as  to  hold  every  man  in  the  situation  in  which  he 
is  bom.  There  are  barriers  he  can  never  pass.  "Wealth, 
even  if  he  can  get  it,  will  not  give  him  that  for  which  it  is 
most  sought — ^respect  and  importance ;  and  I  must  say,  that 
if  a  man  does  become  rich  m  Italy  (a  rare  occurrence!), 
it  is  generally  by  knavery,  by  iniquity,  by  the  most  nefa- 
rious practices ;  not  by  honourable  industry,  integrity,  and 
good  conduct.  That  they  might  become  rich  by  these 
means,  I  do  not  doubt ;  on  the  contrary,  I  think,  in  thus 
continuaUy  labouring  to  cheat  others,  they  often  cheat  them- 
selves, and  that  they  would  find  "  honesty  the  best  policy," 
if  they  could  be  persuaded  to  try  it ;  but  it  is  certain  that 
men  in  Italy  do  sometimes  make  large  fortunes  by  practices 
that,  in  England,  would  lead  them  to  the  gaUows. 

In  England  everything  is  open  to  talent,  merit,  and 
enterprise :  in  Italy  everything  is  closed.  A  man,  by  his 
own  personal  exertions,  scarcely  can  expect  to  make  himself 
other  than  he  is.  Thus  the  powerful  stimulus  of  hope  is 
taken  off;  and  can  we  wonder  at  the  paralysing  effect  ? 


Digitized  by 


Google 


BOIO. 


LETTEE  LXXXVI. 

ItALIAJT    SoTJLPTOBS — CaJTOVA— ThOEWALDBBK — SCHADOW 

— Mosaics   and  Cambos — Models — Woeks   ts   the 
Pbsoious  Mbtals,  etc. 

EoME  indisputably  possesses  both  the  first  ancient  and 
modem  school  of  scnlptiire.  The  incomparable  Museums 
of  the  Vatican,  the  Capitol,  and  the  Tilla  Albani,  have 
drawn  around  them  those  great  artists  whose  genius  far 
surpasses  aU  that  the  world  has  seen  since  the  days  of 
Michael  Angelo  and  John  of  Bologna,  and,  in  the  judg- 
ment of  many,  even  soars  above  those  celebrated  masters. 

The  first  of  these,  both  in  fame  and  merit,  is  Canova. 
To  him  the  renovation  of  modem  taste,  which  had  fallen 
into  the  most  woeful  corruption  through  the  tortuous  labours 
of  Bernini  and  his  wretched  imitators,  must  be  attributed. 
He  restored  the  study  of  the  fine  forms  of  Nature  and  of 
the  Antique ;  and  sought,  in  these  true  sources  of  beauty, 
for  that  purity  of  taste,  and  that  chastened  simplicity  and 

S ace,  which  can  alone  make  the  works  of  the  artist  live, 
e  first  had  the  merit  of  striking  into  the  long-neglected 
path,  and  even  if  others  should  outstrip  him  in  it,  they 
must  own  him  for  their  guide.  In  one  great  branch » of  the 
art,  that  of  basso-rilievo,  he  is  unquestionably  surpassed  by 
Thorwaldsen  (of  whose  works  I  shall  speak  hereaJfter),  but 
it  is  the  brancn  in  which  Canova  is  remarkably  deficient.  I 
should  say  his  bassi-rilievi  are  positively  bad. 

Canova  was  bom  at  Passagno,  a  small  viUag^e  in  the 
Venetian  territory,  of  parents  whose  poverty  disabled  them 
from  giving  to  the  genius  his  earliest  youth  displayed,  the 
usual  cultivation  or  encouragement.  But  he  resolutely 
stmggled  with  every  difficulty,  and  finally  triumphed  over 
hismte. 


Digitized  by 


Google 


ITALIAir  SOULPTOBS.  290 

At  the  age  of  fotirteen,  Having  obtained  the  long-wished- 
for  boon  of  a  small  piece  of  marble,  he  sculptured  out  of  it 
two  baskets  of  fruit,  which  are  now  on  the  staircaae  of  the 
Palazzo  Farsetti,  at  Venice. 

The  next  year,  when  only  fifteen,  he  executed  Eurydice, 
his  first  statue,  in  a  species  of  soft  stone,  caHled  pietra  dolee, 
found  in  the  vicini^  of  Vicenza;  and,  three  years  after, 
•Orpheus;  both  of  which  are  in  the  Villa  Falier,  near  Asolo, 
a  town  about  fifteen  miles  from  Treviso. 

His  first  group  in  marble,  that  of  Bsedalus  and  Icarus, 
he  finished  at  the  age  of  twenty,  and  brought  with  him  to 
.Borne,  where  he  vainly  solicited  the  patronage  of  the 
Venetian  ambassador  and  many  of  the  great;  but  when 
almost  reduced  to  despair,  without  money  or  friends,  he 
became  known  to  Sir  "William  Hamilton,  whose  discern- 
ment immediately  saw  the  genius  of  the  young  artist,  and 
whose  liberahty  furnished  him  with  the  means  of  prose- 
cuting his  studies,  and  of  establishing  himself  as  an  artist 
in  Home.  To  this,  his  firat  patron,  and  to  all  his  family, 
Canova  has  tiirough  life  manifested  the  wannest  grati- 
tude. 

Through  Sir  "William  Hamilton  his  merits  became  known 
to  others ;  even  the  Venetian  ambassador  was  shamed  into 
some  encouragement  of  his  young  countryman,  and  ordered 
the  group  of  Theseus  and  the  Minotaur.  A  few  years  after, 
Canova  was  einployed  to  execute  the  tomb  of  Pope  Qtin- 
ganelli,  in  the  Church  of  the  SS.  Apostoli  at  Eome.  "With 
these  exceptions,  all  his  early  patrons  were  Englishmen. 
Amongst  these  were  Lord  Cawdor,  Mr.  Latouche,  and 
Sir  Henry  Blundell,  for  the  latter  of  whom  the  Psyche, 
one  of  the  earliest  and  most  beautiful  of  his  works,  was 
executed. 

In  the  bewitching  grace  and  softness  of  feminine  beauty, 
and  the  playful  innocence  of  childhood,  Canova  excels  a^ 
others — and  even  himself;  for  in  the  heroic  style  he  cer- 
tainly does  not  soar  so  high.  His  heroes  either  border  on 
effeminacy,  like  his  Perseus ;  or  fly  into  extravaffance,  like 
.his  Hercules.  Tet,  with  all  their  faults,  his  works  in  this 
style  are  conceptions  of  true  genius.  The  idea  is  bold  and 
grand;  biit  we  feel  that  he  has  ovenihot  his  mark.    He  has. 


Digitized  by 


Google 


300  ftOHXi 

got  out  of  Nature,  in  attempting  to  rise  above  it ;  an  J  tlie 
eye  that  has  been  accustomed  to  the  chaste  design  and 
correct  forms  of  ancient  art,  must  be  hurt  with  their  glaring 
defects. 

Indeed,  it  is  luireasonable  to  suppose  that  any  one 
artist,  of  whatever  powers,  should  excel  in  departments  so 
opposite.  One  might  as  well  expect  that  Michael  Angelo, 
whose  genius,  by  the  way,  is  the  very  antipodes  of  that  of 
Canova,  should  have  produced  Ms  smiling  Hebes,  volup^ 
tuous  Venuses,  and  dancing  Nymphs ;  that  Albani  should 
have  pourtrayed  the  gloomy  anchorites  and  martyrdoms 
of  Caravaggio  and  Spagnoletto ;  Salvator  Eosa  painted  the 
warm  sunshines  of  Cuyp;  or  Pindar  written  the  epic 
poems  of  Homer ;  as  that  Canova,  who  can  call  forth  at 
will  the  most  bewitching  forms  of  female  beauty  and  grace, 
should  excel  in  an  Ajax  or  a  Hercules. 

Canova' s  sepulchral  monuments,  too,  for  the  most  part, 
seem  to  me  to  have  a  heaviness  and  want  of  interest. 
GHiere  is  one,  indeed,  erected  to  the  Marchesa  di  Santa 
Croce,  if  I  mistake  not,  of  uncommon  merit ;  particularly 
the  bent  figure  of  the  old  man  advancing  to  the  tomb, 
contrasted  with  that  of  the  child.  But,  with  few  excep- 
tions, we  feel  these  monuments  have  been  a  labour  to  hia 
fancy,  and  they  are  rather  a  toil  to  us : — ^for  whether  Italy 
weeps  over  the  tomb  of  Alfieri, — ^Eome  writes  on  a  tablet, 
' — Padua's  castellated  head  meditates  over  nothing,  —  or 
Religion  looks  clumsy  on  the  tomb  of  Eezzonico, — ^we  turn 
wearied  from  their  contemplation,  and  from  the  expression 
of  the  unmeaning  lisp  of  admiration  which  habit  or  polite- 
ness draws  forth,  to  the  bright  and  immortal  creations  of 
his  genius, — ^to  his  Hebe,  his  Yenus,  his  dancing  Nymphs, 
his  mfant  Loves,  and  his  laughing  Q-races. 

Of  these,  his  Hebe,*  which  he  has  four  times  repeated 
with  variations,  is,  perhaps,  the  most  universally  admired. 
I  camiot,  however,  approve  of  the  gold  necklace  with  which 
the  last  is  adorned ;  not  even  the  sanction  of  antiquity  can 
ever  reconcile  me  to  decorations  so  unsuited  to  sculpture. 
"We  know  the  practice  of  some  of  the  greatest  masters  of 

*  Of  all  statues,  Hebe  is  the  rarest.  I  never  saw  it  in  ancient 
sculpture,  and  I  believe  it  is  only  to  be  found  upon  one  Grecian  gem. 

Digitized  byVjOOQlC 


WOEKS  OF   CAirOTA.  301 

Greece  may  be  adduced,  not  only  for  necklaces,  and  ear- 
Tings,  and  ornaments  of  all  kinds  in  cold  and  precious 
stones, — ^but  for  painted  cheeks;  and  that  the  honour  of 
being  rouged  was  more  particularljr  reserved  for  the  statues 
of  Jupiter.*  Certainly  the  descriptions  handed  down  to 
us  of  the  famous  colossal  ivory-and-gold  Jupiter  Olympius 
with  painted  cheeks,  and  the  equally  celebrated  ivory  Pallas 
with  gems  set  for  eyes — do  not  seem  to  promise  much 
beauty,  even  fh)m  the  hands  of  Phidias.  I^  however,  this 
painting  of  statues  was  introduced  in  the  vain  attempt  to 
create  a  nearer  approach  to  living  nature,  the  objects  of 
sculpture  seem  to  have  been  stnmgely  mistaken  and  de- 
based. Most  certainly  they  do  not  consist  in  the  close 
imitation  of  life ;  for,  m  that  case,  a  common  raree-show  of 
wax-work  would  exceed  the  finest  sculpture  of  Phidiafl. 
Upon  what  principle  this  custom  can  be  reconciled  to  true 
taste,  I  am  at  a  loss  to  understand.  To  me  it  seems  about 
as  bad  as  the  Gothic  custom  of  investing  painted  heads  with 
real  crowns. 

The  Venus  coming  out  of  the  Bath,t  in  all  its  fourfold 
repetitions,  varies,  in  some  points,  from  the  original ;  and 
the  last,  destined  for  Lord  Lansdowne,  and  perhaps  the 
most  beautiM  of  them  all,  is,  in  &ct,  a  new  statue. 

But  Canova's  own  favourite  was  the  Venus  Victorious, 
under  which  the  beautified  portrait  of  Napoleon's  sister, 
the  Princess  Pauline,  was  represented ;  and  this,  I  think  I 
before  told  you,  is  withheld  from  view  by  its  possessor. 

.  Perhaps  the  most  beautiful  of  all  his  works, — the  Venus 
and  Adonis,^ — ^was  finished  at  the  age  of  six-and-thirty. 
This  exquisite  group,  in  my  opinion,  £ar  surpasses  the  Mars 
and  Venus,  executed  for  the  Prince  Begent,  and  which  was 
intended  to  represent  Peace  and  "War — ^but  it  is  not  suffi- 
ciently chaste  or  severe  for  such  a  subject ;  the  expiression 
is  too  voluptuous, — a  fault,  by  the  way,  with  which  the 

*  Cicero,  lib.  viii.  Ep.  20.  Winkehnan,  Hist  de  I'Art,  lib.  i,  cap.  2, 
sect.  2.  Pliny  also  mentions  that  the  statue  of  Jupiter  Capitolinus  was 
rouged  on  festivals. 

t  Originally  done  by  GanoTa  for  the  Galleiy  of  Florence,  when  it 
was  robbed  of  the  Yenns  de  Medicis,  and  now  in  the  Palazzo  PittL 

;(  In  the  palace  of  the  Harchfse  Berio,  at  Naples. 


Digitized  by 


Google 


d02  BOMS. 

works  of  this  great  artist  are  sometimes  chargeable.  "Yet 
it  is  a  beautifiu  group,  and  if  considered  merely  as  Yenus 
hanging  on  the  enamoured  God  of  War,  the  expression  is  • 
appropriate  and  fibultless.  As  jet,  it  has  not  adyaiiGed 
beyond  the  model,  and  there  seems  little  prospect  of  its  ■ 
bem^  soon  finished.  Three  blocks  of  marble  have  already 
failed,  after  the  labour  was  considerably  advanced,  owing 
to  the  blemishes  in  the  heart  of  them,  and  the  fourth  is 
about  to  be  tried.* 

The  beautiM  figure  of  the  Beclining  Nymph,  half-raising 
herself  to  listen  to  the  lyre  of  the  sweet  little  Love  at  her 
feet,  is  on  the  point  of  being  despatched  to  the  Prince 
Ee^nt,  to  whom  it  was  ceded  by  Lord  Cawdor. 

The  group  of  the  Graces,  the  beauty  of  which  is  the 
object  of  universal  admiration  here,  is  also  destined  for  our 
country,  and  will  adorn  Wobum  Abbey.  Beautiful  as  it 
is,  I  own  it  struck  me  as  being  rather  maniere,  esneciaUy 
in  the  attitude  and  face  of  the  central  figure,  wnich  is 
chargeable  with  somewhat  of  affectation,  somewhat  of. 
studied  opera-house  airs  and  put-on  sweetness  of  counte- 
nance. But  as  Zeuxis  said  of  one  of  his  own  paintings, 
'*  It  is  easier  to  criticise  than  to  imitate  it ;"  and  it  is  with 
reluctance  I  see  any  faults  in  a  work  which  has  rarely  been 
equalled  in  modem  art,  and  the  progress  of  which  I  have 
long  watched  with  unspeakable  interest  and  delight.  It  is 
only  a  few  days  since  i  saw  the  finishing  strokes  given  to 
it  by  the  hand  of  Canova. 

Perhaps  you  may  have  no  very  clear  idea  of  the  progress 
of  a  sculptor  in  his  work ;  at  least,  I  find  that  many  of  my 
countrjnmen,  whom  I  have  introduced  to  Canova' s  studio, 
had  previously  supposed  that  his  custom  was  to  fall  upon 
a  block  of  marble,  and  chisel  away  tDl  he  had  made  it  into 
a  statue.  Forgive  me  for  the  improbable  supposition  that 
you  should  be  in  such  an  error ;  but  let  me  explain,  that 
a  sculptor  begins  upon  much  more  ductile  materials  than 
marble.  He  forms  his  model  in  clay,  and  this  is  generally 
(iand  ought  to  be  always)  entirely  the  work  of  his  own 
hands ;  but  before  he  begins,  the  statue  is  perfectly  ideato — 
the  visionary  figure  is  before  him. 
♦  In  1818. 


Digitized  by 


Google 


CANOVA.  303 

"When  finislied,  a  cast  is  taken  from  it  by  his  asBistants, 
which  is  dotted  over  with  black  points  at  regular  intervals  to 
guide  the  workmen.  Erom  this  model  they  begin  to  work, 
and  having  reduced  the  block  of  marble  into  form,  and  made 
it  a  rough-hewn  statue,  the  sculptor  himself  resumes  his 
labours.  The  exterior  surface,  as  it  were,  is  his  to  form 
and  perfect,  and  the  last  finishing  touches  he  generally 
gives  Dy  candle-light.  It  is  afterwards  polished  with  pumice 
stone. 

This  is  the  invariable  process.  Many  are  the  delightful 
hours  I  have  spent  with  Canova,  both  when  he  has  been 
employed  in  modelling  and  chiselling;  and  few  are  the 
companions  whose  society  will  be  enjoyed  with  such  interest 
or  remembered  with  such  regret. 

The  warmth  and  kindness  of  his  disposition,  the  noble 
principles  and  generous  feelings  of  his  mmd,  and  the  unpre- 
tending simplicity  of  his  manners,  give  the  highest  charm  to 
his  exalted  genius.  By  the  friends  th^t  know  him  best,  he 
will  be  the  most  beloved. 

Canova  has  the  avarice  of  fame,  not  of  money.  He 
devotes  a  great  part  of  his  fortune  to  the  purposes  of 
benevolence.  "With  the  title  of  Marchese,  the  Pope  con- 
ferred upon  Canova  three  thousand  piastres  per  annum,  the 
whole  01  which  he  dedicates  to  the  support  and  encourage- 
n^ent  of  poor  and  deserving  artists.  But  I  should  never  be 
done,  were  I  to  recount  one-half  of  the  noble  actions,  the 
generous  exertions,  and  the  extensive  charities  of  his  life, 
which  are  as  secretly  and  unostentatiously  performed,  as 
judiciously  applied.  He  is  now  building  a  church  in  his 
native  village,  and  has  aUenated  the  greater  part  of  his  own 
fortune  for  the  support  of  charitable  institutions. 

It  is  not,  I  beheve,  generally  known,  that  Canova  is  a 
painter  as  well  as  scidptor.  He  has  pursued  the  sister  art 
occasionally,  for  the  amusement  of  his  leisure  hours,  and 
xnaOT  of  his  designs  are  truly  beautiful. 

The  Colossal  Horse  (a  noble  animal),  originally  intended 
for  Napoleon's  equestrian  statue,  is  about  to  be  mounted  by 
the  figure  of  old  King  Perdinand  of  Naples. 

It  must  be  a  gratifying  circumstance  to  England  to  knoWj 
that  even  when  living  under  the  immediate  dominion  of  the.. 


Digitized  by 


Google 


804  BOME. 

French,  be  modelled,  for  bis  own  private  pleasure,  a  tribute 
to  the  memory  of  Nelson. 

He  is  at  present  occupied  in  modelling  a  statue  of  Wash- 
ington for  the  United  States.  The  hero  is  represented 
seated,  but  is  not  yet  finished,  so  I  must  not  speak  of  it ; 
especially  as  I  am  at  present  the  only  person  who  has  been 
honoured  with  a  sight  of  it.  I  may  add,  that  it  promises 
to  be  worthy  of  the  subject  and  the  sculptor. 

The  seated  statue  of  the  Princess  Esterhazy  is  full  of 
grace  and  dignitjr,  and  worthy  of  ancient  art.  That  of 
Maria  Louisa,  which,  however,  reminds  us  strongly  of  the 
seated  Agrippina,  is  also  very  fine :  I  mean  the  copy,  with 
an  ideal  head ;  for  her  own  features  are  wholly  inamnissible 
in  sculpture.  She  would  have  done  wisely  to  have  been 
taken  in  a  moment  of  affliction,  her  fiice  buned  in  her  hand* 
kerchief,  or  mantle. 

The  figure  of  the  Penitent,  or  Magdalen,  is  most  beautiM. 
It  proves  he  could  pouitray  the  touching  image  of  youth 
in  all  the  abandonment  of  settled  sorrow,  as  beautimUy  as 
youth  in  all  the  buoyancy  of  sportive  mirth. 

But  if  I  were  to  enumerate  all  Canova*s  masterpieces,  and 
all  his  merits,  I  might  write  a  volume.* 

The  rival  of  Canova  is  ThorwaJdsen,  a  Danish  artist, 
whose  genius  has  already  borne  him  through  every  obstacle, 
and  far  beyond  every  other  competitor  (Canova  excepted) 
to  the  head  of  his  aft ;  whose  statues  must  be  ranked  next 
to  those  of  Canova ;  and  whose  bassi-rilievi  surpass  all  that 
has  been  given  to  the  world  since  the  brightest  era  of 
Grecian  art. 

His  greatest  work,  the  Triumph  of  Alexander  the  Grreat, 
was  ordered  by  Napoleon,  for  a  frieze  to  ornament  a  chamber 

*  Since  the  publication  of  the  earlier  editions  of  this  work,  the 
world  has  been  deprived  of  this  celebrated  and  exemplary  man, 
whose  character  presented  a  union  of  genius  and  of  virtue,  rarely 
equalled.  All  may  be  the  judge  of  his  works;  but  few  can  know,  as  I 
did,  the  noble  qualities  of  his  mind,  the  honour,  the  delicacy,  the 
generosity  of  his  spirit,  and  the  warm  oyerflowing  afiections  which 
endeared  him  to  the  hearts  of  his  friends.  Some  more  able  biographer 
will  do  justice  to  his  worth,  but  I  cannot  withhold  this  humble  tribute 
of  heartfelt  respect  to  the  memory  of  one  whom  I  have  known  so  well, 
and  moomed  so  truly. 


Digitized  by 


Google 


ALEXAin>£B's  TBIT7MPH.  305 

of  the  Quirroal  Palace  (in  wWcli  the  plaster  east  is  now  put 
Tip)  ;  but  before  it  was  sculptured,  the  career  of  the  emperor 
was  run;  and  the  present  government,  with  crippled  re- 
sources, and  an  overpowering  priesthood,  could  not  afford  to 
lavish  monev  on  a  work  of  taste ;  so  that  Thorwaldsen  was 
in  despair  of  ever  giving  to  his  masterpiece  the  durability 
of  marble ;  when,  only  a  few  days  ago,  the  liberaHty  of  a 
private  iadividual,  Count  Sommariva  (an  Italian  nobleman), 
gave  him  the  long-wished-for  order. 

I^othiDg  can  surpass  many  parts  of  this  &ieze.  I  may 
iiistance  Alexander  m  his  car  of  triumph ;  but,  as  a  whole,  it 
has,  perhaps,  been  drawn  into  too  great  length;  there  is 
occasionally  a  paucily  of  subject,  a  want  of  variety,  of  action, 
and  of  figures  of  high  interest,  which  give  it  an  air  of 
poverty.  A  flock  of  sheep,  extended  over  a  space  of  many 
feet,  for  example,  is  wearisome  alike  to  the  eye  and  to  the 
mind.  Modem  artists,  indeed,  labour  under  an  immeasur- 
able disadvantage  in  having  all  their  fine  models  in  art,  not 
in  nature.  They  cannot,  fike  the  ancients,  imitate  the  ob- 
jects, the  modes,  the  costumes,  that  are  for  ever  in  their  eye, 
in  all  their  happy  accidental  combinations ;  they  must  turn 
from  life  to  inanimate  marble,  and  coldly  copy  from  it,  in 
fisunt  transcript,  the  ancient  car,  the  classic  pomp,  the  laurel 
crown,  the  heroic  armour,  the  graceful  flowing  roTbes.  What 
sort  of  figure  would  our  coadies,  our  coats  and  neckcloths, 
our  boots  and  spurs,  or  our  military  uniforms  with  cocked 
hat  and  feather,  make  in  sculpture  ? 

The  constant  exhibitions  of  the  finest  youthful  forms,  in 
the  athletic  games,  and  the  Hberty  of  designing  their  great 
men  in  the  nude  or  heroic  style,  were  amongst  the  many 
great  advantages  the  ancients  possessed  over  the  modems. 
Still,  however,  the  female  form,  with  its  variable  draperies, 
is  almost  as  well  adapted  to  statuary  as  ever ;  for  tnough 
^shion  has  rendered  its  habitual  attire  totally  unfit  lor 
sculpture,  its  flowing  robes  are  so  much  more  tractable  than 
male  costume,  that  they  may  be  considered  at  the  disposi-^ 
tion  of  the  artist ;  and  accordingly  we  find  that  all  the  great 
artists  of  the  present  day  have  succeeded  best  in  female 
figures. 

.The  busts  of  some  of  my  fair  countrywomen,  with  their 

TOL.  II.  X 


Digitized  by 


Google 


306  BOIOB. 

hair  dressed,  aocordmg  to  their  own  express  desire,  in  the 
extreme  of  the  present  stiff  and  unnatural  French  fashion, 
sometimes  draw  a  smile,  as  thej  catch  one's  eye  in  the 
studU  of  Soman  artists,  heside  the  dassic  models  of  a  Vestal 
or  an  Agrippina.  The  female  husts  of  certain  periods  of 
the  empire,  however,  will,  at  least,  match  them  in  the  extra- 
Ta^mce  and  u&;liness  of  their  weU-wigged  head-dresses. 
Independent  of  hair  and  fashion,  however,  the  men  of  our 
country  make  far  finer  husts  than  the  young  ladies,  whose 
small  delicate  features  were  never  meant  for  marble. 

The  finest  bust  I  have  seen  in  Bome  is  that  of  Lord 
Byron,  by  Thorwaldsen ;  though  perhaps  it  is  to  the  subject 
rather  than  the  execution  thi^  it  owes  its  superior  excel- 
lence. Certainly,  neither  Thorwaldsen  nor  Canova,  in  this 
branch  of  art,  surpasses  our  own  Chantrey. 

Thorwaldsen' s  exquisite  and  poetic  rihevo  of  Night  has 
rarely  been  equalled  in  any  age.  The  Forging  of  Achilles' 
Armour  has  ori;en  been  taken  by  connoisseurs  for  one  of  the 
finest  productions  of  ancient  art,  and  many  of  his  sepulchral 
bassi-nlievi  are  pre-eminently  beautiful.  One,  in  particular, 
to  the  memory  of  a  Gbrmaa  youth  who  fell  in  battle,  struck 
me  with  peculiar  admiration.  His  &.mily  are  hanging  over 
him  in  every  attitude  of  deep  and  speechless  woe;  his 
brother  bears  in  his  hand  the  crown  won  by  his  valour ;  and 
the  Genius  of  Life,  bending  over  his  inanimate  form,  seems 
to  mourn  the  extinguished  torch,  whose  brightness  he  has 
been  compelled  to  quench. 

Of  his  statues — the  Adonis  is  one  of  the  first,  and  most 
beautiful  of  his  works.  The  Mars,  though  wonderfully  fine, 
is,  perhaps,  scarcely  equal  to  it.  The  Shepherd  Boy,  seated 
on  a  rock,  is  supremely  beautiM — ^fuU  of  grace  and  expres- 
sion. His  Mercury,  his  Yenus^  and  his  Jason — ^the  earliest 
of  his  works — are  admirable;  but  I  should  never  have 
finished  were  I  to  describe  the  one-half  of  the  beautifiil 
sculptures  which  I  have  gazed  upon  a  thousand  times  with 
unwearied  delight  in  Thorwaldsen  s  studio. 

He  is  now  employed  in  modelling  a  beautiful  figure  of 
,Hope,  the  idea  of  which  waQ,  perhaps,  suggested  by  the 
smeul  mutilated  statue  among  the  Egma  Marbles,  though  I 
do  not  fear  contradiction  in  asserting  i^  this  is  infinitely 


Digitized  by 


Google 


BODOLFH  SGHADOir.  307 

finer ;  in  passing  iliroagli  Hs  inimd,  lie  lias  given  the  idea  a 
beau^  and  orig&ality  that  stamp  it  all  his  own. 

Slie  is  represented,  as  in  the  original,  bearing  in  her  hand 
a  budding  pomegranate  flower ;  me  seems  to  see  in  fancnr 
the  time  when  its  bloom  shall  fiilly  expand,  and  its  rich 
fruit  be  matured.  I  marvel  that  an  image  flo  lovely  and 
natural  did  not  more  frequently  suggest  itself  to  the  poet's 
fancy.  It  is  to  Greece,  after  all,  that  we  owe  everything  of 
taste  and  imagination. 

I  feel  that,  in  this  imperfect  sketch,  I  have  done  little 
justice  to  the  merit  of  this  truly  great  genius,  who  has  come 
from  the  frozen  shores  of  Icelgmd*  to  the  land  of  arts,  to 
astonish  the  natives  of  her  brilliant  cHme,  with  works  that 
might  have  done  honour  to  her  earlier  days. 

If  those  works  were  better  known  in  our  own  country, 
they  would  not  need  my  humble  tribute  of  applause,  to 
speak  their  excellence  or  dwell  his  fame.  But  that  must 
rapidly  increase,  and  ^^rill  be  immortal.  More  competent 
judges  may  appreciate  more  highly  and  more  justly  his 
merits ;  but  none  can  better  know  and  estimate  the  sensitive 
modesty  and  sensibility,  the  warm  genei^osity,  and  the  rare 
and  estimable  virtues  of  his  character. 

The  sculptor  who  ranked  third  in  eminence  at  Eome, 
when  this  woA  was  published,  was  Eodolph  Schadow,  a 
native  of  Pnissiai  an  artist  of  fine  genius,  whose  career  of 
high  early  promise  has  since  been  cut  short  by  a  premature 
death. 

By  far  the  most  beautifrd  of  his  Works,  among^  many 
extremely  beautiful,  -v^as  the  Mlaince,  a  female  figui*e  of 
singular  delicacy  and  gi'ace,  sitting  and  Winding  a  golden 
thread  upon  a  spindle.  The  greatest  artists  of  antiquity 
might  have  been  proud  6f  this  adniirable  production. 
Another  of  his  woi*ks  wag  almost  eqiially  admired,  the  liljtle 
girl,  just  issuing  from  the  bath,  tying  her  sandal  upoA 
her  slender  foot,  whi6h  recalled  to  mind  the  'vt^ell-known 
statue  in  the  Florentine  gallery,  in  a  similar  attitude. 
Perha|is  indeed  in  this,  and  in  some  ofiiers  of  hit^  wbrk's, 
he  approached  rather  too  closely  to  individiial  models  of 

*  The  fathw  of  Thorwaldsen  was  an  Icelander,  who  settled  at 
Copenhagen. 

X  2 


Digitized  by 


Google 


308  BOMS. 

Grecifln  art — ^for  the  general  spirit  ean  never  be  too  eloselj 
preserved;  but  he  was  quite  as  close  an  imitator  of  the 
beauiy  as  the  forms  of  ancient  sculpture,  and  I  know  not 
how  £gher  praise  can  be  ^ven  to  any  modem  artist. 

It  is  singular  that  Bodolph  Schadow,  and  almost  all  the 
great  modem  sculptors,  excelled  in  the  female  form ;  whilst 
the  reyerse  of  this  remark  applies  to  modem  painters. 

These  three  great  names,  Ganova^  Thorwaldsen,  and 
Schadow,  stood  pre-eminent  in  feune  among  the  crowd  of 
artists  of  Some,  among  whom  many  of  our  own  countrymen 
■^G-ibson  especnally — ^were  of  distinguished  merit.  Another 
highly  interesting  artist  was  the  Signora  Teresa  Benin- 
campe,  whose  beautiful  bust  of  GsBsina^  and  many  of  her 
other  works,  were  uniyersaUy  admired. 

In  busts,  however,  Chantrey,  I  think,  equalled,  nay, 
excelled,  all  foreign  artists,  and  had  he  enjoyed  their  inesti- 
mable advantages  of  living  among  the  masterpieces  of 
ancient  sculpture,  and  drinking  in  their  beauties  at  every 
glance  and  at  every  moment,  I  have  no  doubt  he  would  have 
rivalled  them  in  the  higher  departments  of  sculpture— even 
in  the  ideal.  But  before  his  genius  was  fuUy  matured,  it 
unfortunately  met  in  England  with  an  excess  of  patronage — 
far  more  detrimental  than  its  deficiency.  An  immense 
demand  for  the  unripened  fruits  of  £;emus  tends  to  force 
the  quantity  of  produce,  before  the  plant,  by  slow  growth, 
with  time  and  care,  has  reached  its  vigour.  Thus  a  manu- 
factory of  busts  and  figures  is  produced,  instead  of  the 
masterpieces  of  a  sculptor. 

But  sculpture  demands  those  means  and  opportunities  of 
study  and  cultivation  which  England  cannot  afford.  This, 
indeed,  is  the  true  school  of  art.  If  there  be  any  taste  or 
talent,  it  must  develop  itself  h^e. 

The  painters  were  scarcely  inferior  in  number  to  the 
sculptors  of  Bome,  but  infinitely  fio  in  excellence.  Gamuc- 
cini,  who  then  ranked  highest,  and  many  others,  are  now 
dead;  and  amongst  the  whole  tribe  not  one  historical 
painter  has  risen  U>  fame;  nor  has  one  great  or  even  good 
landscape  painter  ever  appeared  in  Italy. 

It  is  wonderM,  that,  in  a  country  where  the  soft  lights, 
tiie  harmonious  tints,  and  the  bright  aerial  hues  of  the  sky, 


Digitized  by 


Google 


MOSAIC  lOiraPAOTOBY.  809 

slied  enchantment  over  every  object,  and  make  every  scene 
a  picture,  the  artist  can  fail  to  excel,  where  he  has  only  to 
copy  nature.  Yet  through  Italy,  France,  and  the  whole 
of  the  continent,  we  may  search  in  vain  for  anything  like 
excellence  in  landscape  painting.  To  portrait  painting,  the 
same  remark  applies.  There  is  not,  in  either  branch  of  the 
art,  an  artist  at  present  in  the  world  to  compare  with  our 
own. 

The  engravers  of  Bome  have  made  themselves  so  justly 
celebrated  by  their  works,  that  they  do  not  require  my 
feeble  tribute  of  praise.  Yet  some  of  our  engravers  at 
home  would  not  suffer  by  a  comparison  with  any  here.  But 
it  is  invidious  to  quarrel  about  degrees  of  excellence,  where 
aU  are  so  good. 

In  this,  as  in  most  other  branches  of  art,  we  see  that 
Eome  is  the  nurse,  rather  than  the  mother  of  genius.  It 
is  her  adopted  children  who  form  her  glory. 

There  are  many  minor  fine  arts  practised  at  Eome,  which 
are  whoUy  unknown  in  England.  The  most  remarkable  of 
them  is  the  Mosaic  MaauKictory,  upon  which  I  believe  I 
have  touched  before.  It  was  about  to  be  removed  into  a 
vacant  Palazzo,  which  was,  when  I  left  Italy,  preparing  for 
its  reception ;  but  was  then  carried  on  in  the  palace  of  the 
Holy  Office  at  Eome,  from  which  the  Inquisition  was  ousted 
by  the  French,  and  into  which  it  was  destined  to  be 
reinstated  by  the  Papal  government.  Indeed,  the  papers 
and  archives  belongmg  to  it  were  then  conveyed  back 
into  some  of  the  vacant  chambers  of  this  immense 
building. 

The  Inquisition  at  Eome  has  always  been  remarkable  for 
its  mildness ;  and,  compared  with  the  horrible  and  tyran- 
nical iniquity  of  the  same  tribunal  at  Venice  and  Madrid,  it 
deserves  the  epithet  of  lenient.  Nothing,  however,  can 
alter  its  nature,  or  make  a  court,  whose  proceedings  are 
secret,  whose  decision  is  absolute,  whose  information  is 
derived  from  insidious  spies,  whose  accusers  are  concealed, 
and  imconfronted  with  the  accused,  whose  judges  are  not 
accountable,  and  who  can  inflict  imprisonment  and  torture 
to  any  extent  on  the  unconvicted ;  nothing  can  make  such 
an  institution  as  this  anything  but  an  execrable  and  diar 


Digitized  by 


Google 


810  BOHX. 

bolical  engine  of  cnielty,  injustice,  ^d  oppression,  worthy 
of  the  invention  of  Lucifer  himself. 

But  I  have  got  into  a  passion,  and  into  the  Inquisition, 
instead  of  the  Mosaic  Manufactory.  It  is  carried  on  under 
the  direction  and  at  the  cost  of  government ;  and  its  fruits 
are  theirs.  The  workmen  are  constantly  employed  in  copy- 
ing paintings  for  the  altar-pieces  of  churches.  I  grieved  to 
see  such  as  Camuccini*s,  tnough  one  of  his  best,  the  In- 
creduhty  of  St.  Thomas,  copying  at  this  immense  expense, 
when  the  works  of  the  first  masters  are  fast  mouldering 
away  on  the  walls  of  forgotten  churches.  They  wiU  soon 
be  lost  for  ever ;  it  is  yet  possible  to  render  them  imperish- 
able by  means  of  mosaic  copies ;  and  why  is  it  not  done  ? 

The  French,  at  Milan,  set  an  example  of  this,  by  copying, 
in  mosaic,  the  Last  Supper  of  Leonardo  da  Vinci ;  although 
they  signalized  their  bad  taste  by  copying  a  bad  copy  of  it. 
But  it  was  thieir  pl^i^  to  dp  much  for  Milan,  and  nothing 
for  Eome ;  and  the  invaluable  frescos  of  Michael  Angelo, 
Baphael,  Domenichino,  and  Guide,  were,  and  are  left  to 
pensh  here.  It  never  has  seemed  any  object  to  the  Papal 
government  to  copy  the  paintiags  that  are  perishing,  and 
very  many  of  those  that  have  been  executed  in  mosaic  are 
in  no  danger  of  being  destroyed,  and  not  very  well  worth 
preserving. 

It  requires  about  seven  or  eight  years  to  finish  a  mosaic 
copy  of  a  painting  of  the  ordinary  historical  size,  two  men 
bemg  constantly  employed.  It  generally  costs  from  eight 
to  ten  thousand  crowns;  but  the  time  and  expense  are 
regulated,  of  course,  by  the  intricacy  of  the  subject  and 
quantity  of  work. 

Baphael' s  Transfiguration  cost  about  12,000  crowns,  and 
the  labour  of  nine  years ;  ten  men  constantly  working  at 
it.  The  late  works  seem  to  me  of  very  inferior  execution 
to  the  copies  of  Guido's  Archangel,  Guercino's  Santa  Petro- 
idlla,  and  many  of  that  date. 

The  slab  upon  which,  the  mosaic  is  made,  is  generally 
formed  of  Travertine  stone,  connected  by  iron  cramps. 
Upon  the  surface  of  this  a  mastic,  or  cementing  paste,  is 
gradually  spread  as  the  progress  of  the  work  requires  it, 
and  forms  the  adhesive  ground  or  bed  on  which  the  mosaic 


Digitized  by 


Google 


MOSAIC  PICTTJEES.  311 

is  laid.  This  mastic  is  composed  of  lime  burnt  from  marble, 
and  finely  powdered  Travertine  stone,  mixed  to  the  con- 
sistence of  a  strong  paste,  with  linseed  oil.  Into  this  paste 
are  stuck  the  smalts  (smalti)  of  which  the  mosaic  picture  is 
formed.  They  are  a  species  of  opaque  vitrified  glass,  par- 
taking of  the  mixed  nature  of  stone  and  glass,  and  composed 
of  a  variety  of  minerals  and  materials,  coloured,  for  the  most 
part,  with  different  metallic  oxides.  Of  these,  no  less  than 
seventeen  hundred  different  shades  are  in  use;  they  are 
manufactured  in  Borne  in  the  form  of  long  slender  rods  like 
wires,  of  different  degrees  of  thickness,  and  are  cut  into 
pieces  of  the  requisite  sizes,  from  the  smallest  pin-point  to 
an  inch.  "When  the  picture  is  completely  finished,  and  the 
cement  thoroughly  dned,  it  is  highly  polished. 

This  mosaic  work,  during  the  two  years  that  I  have 
known  Home,  proceeded  in  that  creeping  indolent  manner 
in  which  all  undertakings  go  on  here,  if  they  go  on  at  all. 
Pew  workmen  were  employed,  and  those  work  Httle.  This 
manufactory  now,  in  all  the  world,  exists  only  in  Eome ;  for 
the  establishment  in  Milan,  founded  by  the  French,  has 
fallen  with  them,  and  its  abolition  was  decreed  by  the 
Austrian  government. 

Mosaic,  though  an  ancient  art,  is  not  merely  a  revived, 
but  an  improved  one ;  for  the  Eomans  chiefly  used  coloured 
marbles,  or  natural  stones,  in  their  mosaics ;  and  although 
they  appear  to  have  also  had  the  knowledge  of  some  sort  of 
composition,  it  admitted  of  comparativelv  little  variety ;  but 
the  mvention  of  smalts  has  given  it  a  mr  wider  range,  and 
made  the  imitation  of  painting  far  closer. 

The  Morence  work  is  totally  different  from  this,  being 
merely  inlaying  pietre  dtire,  or  natural  precious  stones,  of 
every  variety,  in  marble  or  porphyrv  tables,  by  which  beau- 
tiful and  very  costly  imitations  of  shells,  flowers,  fibres, 
&€.,  are  formed,  but  it  bears  no  similitude  to  mosaic  or 
painting. 

Besides  this  government  establishment  at  Eome,  there 
are  hundreds  of  artists,  or  rather  artisans,  who  carry  on  the 
manufactory  of  mosaics  on  a  small  scale.  Snuff-boxes,  rings, 
necklaces,  brooches,  ear-rings,  &c.,  are  made  in  immense 
quantity ;  and  since  the  EngSsh  flocked  in  such  numbers  to 


Digitized  by 


Google 


812  BOMS« 

Borne,  all  the  streets  leading  to  the  Piazza  di  Spagna  aie 
lined  with  the  shops  of  these  MusaicigH. 

Oriental  shells  are  made  at  Bome  into  beautiful  cameos, 
by  the  white  outer  surface  being  cut  away  upon  the  deeper- 
coloured  internal  part,  forming  figures  in  minute  bassi- 
rilievi.  The  subjects  are  chiefly  taken  from  ancient  gems, 
and  sometimes  from  sculpture  and  painting.  The  sbeUa 
used  for  this  purpose  are  chiefly  brought  from  the  Levant. 
The  most  celebrated  artist  in  this  curious  branch  of  art, 
which  was  then  peculiar  to  Eome,  was  Dies.  These  shell- 
cameos  make  beautiful  ornaments. 

The  modem  gems  of  the  Pichlers,  Natali,  &c.,  are  so  well 
known,  and  so  nearly  approach  to  the  perfection  of  the  best 
Gbedan  ones,  that  I  need  say  nothing  in  their  praise. 
Though  these  celebrated  artists  are  now  dead,  many  of  the 
living  ones  at  Eome  are  little  inferior  to  them,  both  in 
cameo  and  intaglio.  Their  subjects  are  sometimes  taken 
from  the  paintings  of  great  masters;  but  more  frequently 
fi^m  ancient  or  modem  sculpture. 

Besides  those,  hundreds  of  artists  find  support  at  Bome, 
in  making  casts,  sulphurs,  &c.,  from  ancient  gems  a<nd 
medals,  and  in  fabricating  antiques,  a  most  important  and 
lucrative  trade.  Marble  and  stone-cutting  are  also  beauti- 
fully executed  both  at  Bome  and  Florence.  Hopmartin,  a 
remarkably  ingenious  German,  executes  models  in  bronze 
of  the  triumphal  arches,  columns,  ruins,  ancient  vases,  &c. 
of  Bome.  He  has  executed  a  bronze  model  of  Trajan's 
Pillar,  with  the  whole  of  the  bas-reliefs,  accurately  copied — 
an  extraordinary  work. 

If  the  fine  arts  prosper  in  Bome,  the  useful  arts  are  in  a 
woefully  degenerate  state.  The  mean,  useless,  unworkman- 
like style  in  which  everything  of  common  life,  every  handi- 
craft trade,  is  got  through  here,  strikes  one  with  much 
surprise.  It  is  very  bad,  even  compared  to  France,  and 
what  a  contrast  to  England !  Even  jewellery  is  miserably 
finished  here.  The  taste  in  the  arts  which  might  have  been 
expected  to  pervade  every  branch,  from  the  models  of  beauty 
which  meet  the  eye  at  every  turn,  seems  totally  wanting. 


Digitized  by 


Google 


X6IKA  MABBLES.  318 


LETTEE  LXXXVn. 
Egika  ajsv  Phigaxian  Maebles. 

The  Egina  marbles  have  been  so  completely  restored  by 
Thorwaldsen,  in  the  true  spirit  and  force  of  the  original, 
that,  in  contemplating  them,  the  eye  feels  nothing  to  de- 
sire. 

The  discovery  of  seventeen  perfect  specimens  of  a  cele- 
brated school,  unique  in  its  character,  which  flourished  six 
hundred  years  before  the  Christian  era,  which  was  kuown 
to  us  only  by  the  report  of  writers  of  antiquity  (for  not 
a  single  monument  of  it  was  extant),  was  beyond  all  hope, 
and  is,  perhaps,  the  most  important  accession  to  art  that 
has  taken  place  for  ages. 

A  blank  in  its  gradation  is  hereby  filled  up.  The  Egina 
School  stands  between  the  Etruscan  and  the  Grecian,  and 
verges  upon  both  in  some  respects,  though  distinct  from 
either  in  more  important  characteristics. 

The  best  judges,  indeed,  have  felt  and  acknowledged  the 
difficulty  of  drawing  a  clear  distinction  between  the  Etrus- 
can and  the  early  Grecian;  but,  comparing  the  Egina 
marbles  with  undoubted  Etruscan  sculptures,  it  seems  to 
bear  a  near  resemblance  to  them  in  the  well-known  style 
of  the  drapery,  and  in  the  arrangement  of  the  hair;  in 
which  two  formal  rows  of  the  stifiest  little  curls  are  ranged 
round  the  unmeaning  face.  "With  diffidence,  too,  I  would 
say,  that  the  form  of  the  helmets  in  the  Egina  marbles 
bears  a  striking  similitude  to  those  in  that  common  sepul- 
chral subject  of  the  Etruscan  xims, — the  combat  of  Echeties; 
but  I  speak  of  the  latter  from  remembrance.  However 
this  may  be,  the  Egina  sculpture  ,has  lost  much  of  the 
monotony  and  the  stiff  erect  rigidity  of  attitude  that 
adheres  in  some  degree  to  all  the  Etruscan  statues,  m 


Digitized  by 


Google 


314  BOHX. 

which  the  Egyptian,  softened  down  and  thawed  into  life, 
still  appears.  The  Egyptian  figures,  indeed,  always  remind 
me  of  their  mummies.  One  sees,  too,  that  the  artist, 
conscious  of  his  weakness,  timorously  confined  himself  to 
that  which  was  most  easy  of  execution,  making  man  as 
much  as  possible  an  erect  piUar, — a  sort  of  regular  mathe- 
matical figure ;  and  that  ne  durst  not  venture  upon  any 
approach  to  the  grace  or  freedom  of  nature,  much  less 
to  momentary  action,  for  which  the  Egina  statues  are 
remarkable. 

Above  all  other  sculpture,  indeed,  they  are  distinguished 
for  their  varied  display  of  the  human  figure,  for  the  strong 
muscular  delineation,  the  wonderful  anatomical  precision, 
and  the  nice  imitation  of  life  which  charms  the  eye.  Still 
more  striking  are  their  bold  and  original  attitudes,  and  their 
powerful  expression  and  force  of  action. 

What  is  the  most  singular,  however,  and  the  least  ad- 
mirable about  them,  is,  that  all  the  faces  are  prototypes  af 
each  other;  and  so  far  inferior  to  the  figures,  that  it  is 
obvious  the  style  of  an  earlier  age  has  been  retained  in 
them.  This  can  only  be  accounted  for  from  motives  of 
religious  veneration  towards  some  particular  model.  It 
has  been  thought,  on  this  account,  that  they  represented 
the  Uacida,  the  deified  heroes  of  Egina;  but  no  actions 
are  recorded  of  these  worthies  that  can  explain  the  subject 
of  this  sculpture ;  besides,  Minerva  and  the  men  are  pre- 
cisely similar,  and  it  could  not  be  necessary  that  she  should 
bear  the  faniily  resemblance ;  and  all  are  equally  devoid  of 
expression,  even  to  a  degree  of  vacant  idiotism.  The  coun- 
tenances of  the  prostrate  heroes^  pierced  with  the  death- 
wound,  wear  the  same  senseless  smile  as  the  rest. 

All  of  them  are  on  a  scale  considerably  below  that  of 
nature,  which  obviously  arose  from  the  necessity  of  con- 
forming their  height  to  that  of  the  pediments  of  the  temple 
they  adorned.  They  were  found,  I  may  say,  by  mere  acci- 
dent, in  the  island  of  Egina,  in  the  year  1811,  by  Mr. 
CockereU  and  Mr.  Foster,  Baron  Haller  and  Mr.  Linkh, 
in  making  an  excavation,  which  had  for  its  object  the 
determination  of  some  disputed  points  in  Grecian  archi- 
tecture.   From  two  of  these  gentlemen  I  had  the  parti- 


Digitized  by 


Google 


INTEBESTIKa   GBOUF.  315 

culars  of  this  interesting  discovery,  and  to  their  valuable 
observations  I  have  been  indebted  for  much  of  the  pleasure 
I  received  from  the  examination  of  the  sculpture.* 

On  the  western  pediment  of  the  temple,  eleven  of  the 
statues  were  found  nearly  entire.  On  the  eastern,  five  only 
were  recovered,  and  these  much  shattered.  All  the  rest 
on  this  side  were  wholly  destroyed,  and  their  scattered 
fragments  have  been  collected  in  vain.  This  is  the  more 
to  be  lamented,  because  these  statues  are  far  superior  to 
the  others,  and  have  been  pronounced  to  be  the  work  of  a 
greater  master.  Their  subject  and  arrangement  seem  to 
have  been  much  the  same,  and  will  be  best  understood  by 
attending  to  those  which  were  found  entire  on  the  western 
pediment. 

In  viewing  them,  no  one  statue  can,  or  ought  to  be,  con- 
sidered apart.  They  are  parts  of  one  great  group,  and  we 
must  attend,  not  so  much  to  their  individual  appearance  as 
their  general  effect.  "We  see  that  the  action  of  each  has 
reference  to  the  others,  like  the  figures  in  a  picture ;  and, 
indeed,  never — except  in  these  grand  historical  statvumf 
pictures^  which  adorned  the  pediments  of  the  Parthenon,  of 
this  Temple  of  Egina,  and  of  most  of  the  temples  of  ancient 
Greece — were  th^  beauties  aad  effects  of  sculpture  and 
painting  intimately  combined ;  for  to  sculpture,  besides  its 
own  peculiar  advantages,  is  here  given  the  grouping,  com- 
position, and  relative  action  of  painting.  It  is  obvious  that 
the  combat  here  represented,  is  for  the  body  of  the  dying 
hero  ^by  &x  the  most  beautiful  of  them  all),  which  one 
party  is  trying  to  seize,  and  the  other  to  defend ;  and  among 
911  the  varied  explanations  which  have  been  given  of  the 
subject,  that  of  the  combat  for  the  body  of  Patroclus  seems 
to  me  by  far  the  most  satisfactory.  In  the  midst  appears 
Minerva,  as  described  by  Homer,  animating  the  Grecians. 
Her  statue  and  drapery  are  peculiarly  fine.  There  is  a 
peculiarity  in  her  iEgis,  which  is  destitute  of  the  snakes. 

The  figure  of  the  ^cher  in  the  Phrygian  cap,  and  the 

♦  The  accurate  designs  of  their  original  position,  drawn  by  Mr. 
Cockerel],  from  notes  taken  on  the  spot,  give  a  very  satisfactory  idea 
of  their  conneuon  iritU  each  otiier. — ^See  Quarterly  Jouiual,  Nos.  12 
and  li. 


Digitized  by 


Google 


^16  BOHE. 

close  elastic  dress,  which  covers,  without  concealing,  his 
body,  is  very  anguW.  He  is  supposed  to  be  one  of  the 
Troians. 

Perfect  common  nature  is  represented  in  these  statues, 
with  admirable  skill  and  science ;  but  there  is  little  of  the 
ideal  in  any  of  them,  except  in  the  faultless  figure  of  the 
dying  hero,  which  is  a  masterpiece  of  sculpture. 

They  are  obviously  the  works  of  an  age  when  art  had 
shaken  off  the  shackles  of  earlier  times,  and  made  great 
advances  to  that  perfection  at  which  it  afterwards  arrived ; 
but  they  are  far  removed  from  the  ^andeur  of  those  works 
with  which  Phidias  enriched  the  Parthenon;  or  the  still 
brighter  period,  when  the  Laocoon,  the  Torso,  the  Dying 
Gladiator,  and  the  Apollo,  were  designed,  for  the  wonder 
and  admiration  of  future  ages. 

The  temple  in  which  they  were  found  is  believed,  I  know 
not  upon  what  authority,  to  have  been  that  of  Jupiter 
Panhellenius ;  yet,  though  there  is  abundant  proof  that 
there  was  such  a  temple  in  Eguia,  there  is  none  whatever 
that  there  was  no  other ;  and  as  the  statue  of  Minerva  was 
found  surmounting  both  pediments,  it  would  seem  more 
reasonable  to  ascribe  the  temple  to  her,  especially  as  no 
vestige  whatever  of  Jupiter  has  been  discovered.  This 
point  is,  however,  extremely  immaterial ;  further  than  that 
if  this  be  not  that  famous  Temple  of  Jupiter,  and  if  its 
site  could  be  elsewhere  traced,  the  discovery  of  more  hidden 
treasures  might  reward  the  industry  of  future  excavators. 
The  earthquake  that  buried  these,  may  have  involved  other 
temples  and  other  sculpture  in  its  ruins. 

It  is  a  strange  paradx)x,  that  it  is  to  the  destructive  con- 
vulsions of  nature  we  owe  the  preservation  of  some  of  the 
most  valuable  remains  of  art.  Herculaneum  and  Pompeii, 
the  bas-reliefs  of  the  Arcadian  Temple  of  Apollo*  on  Mount 
Cotylion  near  Phigalia,  and  the  Egina  Marbles,  are  by  no 
means  the  only  instances. 

It  is  well  known  that  the  two  English  discoverers  of  the 
Egina  Marbles  took  infinite  pains  to  have  them  secured  to 
our  country,  but  in  vain.    At  their  sale,  in  the  island  of 

'  "^  The  Phigalian  MarbleB,  now  in  the  Britkh  Musenm ;  the  work  of 
the  same  era  as  ti^oae  of  the  Parthenon,  but  of  yeiy  inferior  sculptore.. 


Digitized  by 


Google 


BBITISH  FABfllMONT.  317' 

Zante,  the  Fnnce  IRojal  of  Bavaria,  not  the  Prince  Be^ent 
of  England,  was  their  purchaser:  they  therefore  adorn 
Munich,  and  not  London.  This  is  another  instance  of  the 
miserahle  parsimony  of  the  British  Groyemment  in  all 
matters  relative  to  the  Fine  Arts. 


Digitized  by 


Google 


818  BOicx. 


LETTEE  LXXXVIIL 
TTADEiAy's  Villa. 

We  left  Borne  this  morning  for  Tivoli,  by  the  Porta  San 
Lorenzo.  Three  miles  from  it  we  crossed  tne  Ponte  Mam- 
molo,  over  the  Anio,  or  Teverone,  whose  sleepy  course  is 
here  destitute  of  beauty ;  and  proceeded  through  the  dreary 
waste  of  the  Campagna,  for  ten  long  miles  ftirther,  without 
meeting  any  passengers  (excepting  two  or  three  beggars), 
or  seeing  a  single  sign  of  human  habitation  or  of  life ; 
though  ipementos  of  death  in  abundance  stared  us  in  the 
face;  for,  besides  the  ruined  tombs,  black  crosses  by  the 
wayside  marked  the  frequent  spots  where  murder  had  been 
committed.  Artij&cial  caves,  hoUowed  out  in  the  soft  poz- 
zuolana  rock  that  bounded  the  road,  were  pointed  out  to 
us  as  the  frequent  lurking-place  of  assassms.  So  poor, 
however,  and  so  few,  seem  to  be  the  passengers  between 
Some  and  Tivoli,  that  I  should  suppose  these  murderers 
would  get  nothing  but  blood  for  theur  pains — and  but  little 
of  that. 

Longing  for  some  object  to  break  the  tedium  of  the  way, 
we  looked  out  with  great  earnestness  for  'the  Lake  of 
Tartarus,'  which  we  were  to  pass ;  but  it  was  not  from  our 
eyes  that  we  had  the  first  intimation  of  our  approach  to 
it;  for  we  scented  it  from  afar  in  such  offensive  ejfluvia, 
that  every  foul  and  fetid  odour  seemed  congregated  in  one 
potent  stench,  which  increased  every  moment  tiU  we  passed 
the  spot.  Lake,  there  is  none.  Excepting  one  muddy 
pool,  the  thick  viscid  waters  are  dried  up,  or  encrusted 
with  a  hard  uneven  substance,  of  an  aricl  yellow  colour, 
on  which  patches  of  stunted  bushes  were  growing.  The 
wide  extent  of  this  hideous  crust  marked  the  ancient  sur- 
face of  '  the  Tartarean  Lake.'    Eeeds,  roots  of  plants,  all 


Digitized  by 


Google 


SrLPHUBEOUS  LAKE.  319 

things  of  vegetable  kind  that  grow  near  it,  are  rapidly 
changed,  by  its  petrifying  qualify,  into  stone.  The  masaeS 
of  rock  all  round  it  are  of  this  curious  fibrous  teiture. 
Near  this  dismal  lake  stands  a  ruined  Gothi(i  fortress,  called 
Castello  Archione. 

As  we  proceeded  on  our  way,  the  fumes  still  continued 
to  increase,  till,  at  the  distance  of  about  two  miles,  we 
reached  the  artificial  bed  of  another  foul  blue  fluid,  for 
I  cannot  call  it  water, — ^which  flowed  across  the  road,  con- 
ducted from  the  celebrated  'Sulphureous  Lake,'  about  a 
mile  distant,  to  drain  which  it  has  been  cut.  In  part  it 
has  succeeded,  and,  besides,  it  is  the  nature  of  such  waters 
to  diminish,  so  that  the  ancient  size  of  this  lake  is  now 
greatly  reduced.  We  left  the  carriage  to  walk  to  it,  and 
on  onr  way  we  picked  up  a  bare-legged  cicerone,  a  poor 
goat-herd,  who  told  us  ail  he  knew  about  it, — ^and  more. 
Arrived  on  the  brink  of  the  filthy  flood,  he  embarked  him- 
self upon  it  on  a  little  floating  island  of  about  two  feet 
diameter,  which  was  near  the  shore,  and  by  the  help  of  a 
long  stick  navigated  himself  about  in  this  new  species  of 
vessel.  Several  of  these  floating  islands,  some  of  much 
larger  dimensions,  were  dispersed  over  the  pond ;  they  are 
produced  by  the  plants  cohering  together,  and  formed  into 
a  solid  mass  by  the  thi^k  deposit  from  the  sulphureous 
water,^  which  possesses  the  same  petrifying  property  as  the 
Tartarean:  LaJke.  Several  rustics  had,  by  this  time,  col- 
lected round,  us,  all  of  whom  assured  us  that  the  lake  is 
bottomless.  That,  however,  is  not  the  case,  though  it  is* 
very  deep,  and  in  one  place  measures  upwards  of  thirty 
fiEithoms.  They  threw  in  stones,  and  made  us  observe  how 
it  'boiled,'  as  they  called  it.  It  certainly  bubbled  for 
several  minutes  afterwards  with  great  activity,  which  arose, 
I  presume,  from  the  sulphuretted  gas  being  rapidly  dis- 
engaged from  the  bottom  by  the  percussion  of  the  stone, 
and  rising  through  the  water.  In  the  morning  at  sunrise, 
they  assured  ia»  it  spontaneously  throws  up  these  bubbles, 
and  is  quite  covered  with  mist  and  steam.  The  water, 
though  rather .  higher  than  the  ordinary  temperature,  is  cold 
to  the  touch.  The  peasants  told  us  that  the  quarries  of 
Tiburtine*  stone  were  near  the  lake,  and  assured  us  that 


Digitized  by 


Google 


ct  some 

■   -     *  "*    **■■  *   ^^^^>i£^i2r^i.  ~'r  aieciia^  pur- 
f         r_-    \  .-=:.:* — ^.-r?-  -r-  pa^-«  jf  Queen 

—     ^-^-'    ^    jrT  ^'  -^js^  3L  lie  nei^h- 

*-•     -"^    "*■  —    -«r— r~  izstT'zii*  aae  would 

■•-^-     -=-    ^^    i=::jL   -h  :ii:»  pitiemo- 

"•      "^-cc-*    i:   -rjr   -Tsjcr^i  G?twip  and 

—  -- .    I    zr-  ^-^   '1  :ne  71LTIS  iieas 

^     -  ^    ?  ,=:j— JL   3-iS  ^»^  Taaiedrarher 
■=■    --    :=i=r^    Ji  nis  >3sc:ent 

.  ■*     ^      r-      ' ,   1J-r^»*j:    -iTr-r^  "37  ^Ze   tOWer 

'^      s»     .       v--a.  Il-'cla    Ikaf  i2at,  it 

-  -^  .-.    -i-^    :  ^  ^Ji-Jr  T:arrmy.  fx  bears 

i«te^       .  '  5«^  ^  -ii  ,  .T^Trrap  cccimns, 

-ifc.  5^         ^    i  XT  :*i-l  '^sLiT-if.  jdI  in  not 

_^*.    — irfs.     j:  iBSb  riilr  3l  :^  dip  of 

-.»*     rr     i^c—.-r^-ir    x  xjs  mjcaEBnent, 


Digitized  by 


,i&BLm 


Google 


I 


vox- 


y  Google 


820  BOME. 

some  ruins  on  its  margin — apparently  tlie  remains  of  some 
of  the  baths  which  were  much  frequented  for  medical  pur- 
poses in  the  days  of  the  Eomans — ^were  the  palace  of  Queen 
Zenobia.  But  though  that  royal  captive,  after  gracing 
Aurelian's  triumph,  did  take  up  her  abode  in  the  neigh- 
bourhood of  Tibur,  one  would  scarcely  imagine  she  would 
choose  to  plant  herself  on  the  brink  of  this  pandemo- 
nium. 

Here  are  now  no  vestiges  of  the  Saicred  Ghrove  and 
Temple  of  the  Faun,  who,  in  the  days  of  the  pious  .tineas 
and  his  father-in-law,  was  the  oracle  of  the  whole  country. 
I  do  think  the  old  Latin  monarch  must  have  passed  rather 
an  uncomfortable  night  on  the  margin  of  this  pestilent 
basin,  in  spite  of  his  bed  of  a  hundred  sheep-skins,  when 
he  went  to  dream  of  the  expediency  of  the  future  nuptials 
of  Tumus  and  Lavinia.* 

Soon  after  leaving  the  lake,  we  reached  the  Ponte  Lucano, 
a  spot  so  well  known  in  painting,  that  I  need  scarcely 
describe  it.  It  owes  all  its  picturesque  effect  to  the  tower 
close  by  the  bridge ;  for  the  Anio  here,  though  shaded  by 
trees,  is  nothing  in  itself.  This  tower,  as  the  inscriptions 
upon  it  prove,  is  the  tomb  of  M.  Plautius  and  his  femily. 
It  nearly  resembles  that  of  Cecilia  MeteUa;  like  that,  it 
is  built  of  Tiburtine  stone,  and  in  ^similar  manner,  it  bears 
on  its  summit  the  walls  and  fortifications  raised  in  the  days 
of  feudal  warfare.  It  differs,  however,  in  having  had  a 
front  towards  the  road,  composed  of  six  Corinthian  columns, 
some  broken  remains  of  which  are  still  visible,  and  in  not 
having  had  a  sculptured  frieze.  It  was  built  in  the  days  of 
Vespasian. 

It  is  curious  that  the  inscription  on  this  monument, 

*  At  rex,  Bollicitus  monstris  (Layinia's  hair  taking  fire,  &c} 
oracula  Fauni, 
Fatidici  genitoris,  adit,  lucosque  sub  alta 
Consnlit  Albunea :  nemorum  quee  maTima  sacro 
Fonte  sonat,  sseyamque  ezhalat  opaca  mephitim. 
Hinc  Itallae  gentes,  omnisque  (Enotria  telliis, 
In  dubiia  responsa  petunt :  hue  dona  sacerdos 
Quum  tulit,  et  caeaarum  ovium  suf>  nocte  silenti 
Pellibus  incubuit  stratis,  somnosqne  petivit. 

Ms,  lib.  ylL 


Digitized  by 


Google 


hadeian's  vilia.  321 

wMcli  records  the  dignities  M.  Flautius  enjoyed  and  the 
victories  he  gained,  ends  with  vmT  ajsts,  Ia.  Though  it 
is  impossible  that  a  consul  and  a  general  could  have  died 
at  nine  years  of  age,  there  is  no  appearance  of  any  figure 
having  been  obliterated.  Could  it  mean  that  he  was  consul 
during  nine  years  ? 

The  ancients  were  right  in  making  a  circle  the  symbol  of 
eternity,  not  only  from  its  having  no  commencement  or 
termination,  but  because  of  its  durabiliiy.  Excepting  the 
Pyramids,  almost  all  the  ancient  buildings  that  remain 
entire,  are  circular.  Not  to  mention  the  Colosseum,  and 
the  Amphitheatre  of  Verona,  and  the  Sepulchre  of  Augustus,, 
which,  Dy  great  exertions,  have  been  in  part  destroyed^ 
the  Pantheon,  the  Tombs  of  Hadrian,  of  Cecilia  MeteUa, 
and  of  Munatius  Plancus  at  Molo  di  Gueta,  are  the  mosi 
perfect  remains  of  antiquity  which  our  times  can  boast. 

To  the  left  of  the  route  Lucano,  are  some  unknown 
ruins,  apparently  of  Eoman  villas,  and  near  them  an  ancient 
consiilar  road  may  still  be  traced.  "We  soon  after  passed,^ 
on  the  right  of  the  road,  the  remains  of  two  Eoman  tombs,, 
on  one  of  which, — ^probably  the  tomb  of  a  knight, — ^is  the- 
common  sepulchral  rilievo  of  a  man  holding  his  horse  by 
the  bridle.  Some  people  have  called  these  the  lodges  to 
Hadrian*s  magnificent  villa, — ^a  truly  English  idea;  but 
a  little  attentive  observation  wiU  make  their  sepulchral' 
destination  sufficiently  obvious. 

Soon  afterwards,  we  turned  off  to  the  right,  and  a  short 
mile  of  bad  rocW  road  brought  us  to  the  present  entrance 
to  the  ruins  of  Hadrian's  wonderful  villa.  It  is  situated 
on  the  plain  at  the  foot  of  the  hiU  of  Tivoli,  and,,  accord- 
ing to  the  writers  of  antiquity,  covered  an  extent  of  three 
miles  with  its  multiplied  structures,  its  gardens,  and  its 
appurtenances.  It  rather  resembled  a  city  in  itseK  than  a 
single  mansion.  We  know  that  Hadrian  imitated  her© 
everything  which  had  struck  his  fancy  during  his  travels, 
and  that  the  buildings  and  institutions  of  Egypt,  Syria> 
and  Gbeece,  were  assembled  within  its  walls  * 

These  proud  imperial  ruins  are  now  lost  among  thiek 

*  Vide  Spartianus. 
TOL.  n.  T 


Digitized  by 


Google 


322  Bosns. 

olive  groves;  their  floors,  instead  of  being  paved  with 
pictured  mosaics,  are  overgrown  with  grass;  their  broken 
reticulated  walls  are  overhung  with  wild  creeping  plants; 
and  their  once  magnificent  hiuls  are  filled  with  thickets  of 
aged  ilex,  and  overshadowed  by  mournful  cypresses  and 
pme-trees ;  yet  enough  still  remains  to  attest  their  former 
extent  and  splendour. 

The  house  of  the  custode,  on  the  left  in  entering,  which 
is  dignified  by  the  title  of  a  Casino,  is  built  on  some  of  the 
ancient  walls.  Close  by  it  is  a  building  with  some  niches 
for  statues,  and  an  arched  recess  for  a  fountain,  the  walls 
of  which  are  covered  with  petrifactions.  There  is  also  a 
room,  the  roof  of  which  is  adorned  with  beautiful  indented 
stucco,  in  patterns  resembling  arabesque,  and  in  wonder&l 
preservation.  On  the  right  is  a  theatre :  the  eye  can  still 
trace  the  semicircular  ranges  of  seats,  the  porticos  below 
them,  the  proscenium,  and  the  orchesi^  in  the  middle  of 
which  a  colossal  torso  of  a  marble  statue,  supposed  to  have 
been  of  Hadrian,  was  Iving  on  the  ground.  "We  trod  the 
grass-grown  stage,  and  oisin^bed  £rom  their  ancient  haunts, 
— ^not  the  Tragic  nor  the  Comic  Muse,  nor  yet  the  ranting 
Mask  with  his  cothurnus,  that  had  so  often  *'  &etted  his 
little  hour  upon  this  stage," — ^but  a  company  of  black 
hooded  crows,  whose  hoarse  complaining  clamour  now  alone 
resounds  here,  iostead  of  the  dialogues  of  Plautus  or  Ter- 
ence. Near  it  is  the  Sipj^odromus,  a  large  open  oblong 
space,  for  equestrian  exercises,  &c.,  now  an  olive  grove; 
yet  still,  in  its  broken  walls,  the  niches  for  the  statues  that 
once  ornamented  it,  may  be  traced. 

We  proceeded  down  a  long  green  avenue  of  tall  cypress- 
trees,  to  the  Foecile,  a  double  portico,  built  in  imitation  of 
the  PoBcile  of  Athens,  so  called  from  the  varietv  of  the 
paintings  with  which  it  was  adorned.*  All  that  now 
remains  of  it  consists  of  the  lofty  reticulated  wall,  nearly 
six  hundred  feet  in  length,  on  either  side  of  which  was  a 
portico,  supported  by  marble  columns.  Thus  the  poets  and 
philosophers,  who  took  their  daily  jjromenade  here,  and 
with  whom  Hadrian  often  used  to  mingle,  could  choose  at 
pleasure  its  sunny  or  shady  side. 

*  Pausanias,  lib.  i,  cap.  15;  and  Pliny,  lib.  joxy,  cap.  9. 


Digitized  by 


Google 


-RviNB  or  hadbiak's  tilla.  823 

The  south  side  commands  a  view  of  a  large  open  space, 
supposed  to  have  been  a  sort  of  parade  for  the  troops  to 
exercise  in:  and  in  the  centre  are  remains  of  a  sort  of 
loggia,  said  to  have  been  the  station  of  the  Emperor  when 
be  reviewed  them. 

A  ruined  semicircle  to  the  left  of  the  Poecile  is  called 
the  Temple  of  the  seven  "Wise  Men  of  Grreece,  because  of 
its  having  seven  niches  for  statues;  although  it  bears  no 
very  decided  appearance  of  ever  having  been  a  temple  at  all, 
and  looks  quite  as  like  the  upper  end  of  a  large  hall.  Then 
follows  an  immense  rotunoa,  or  circular  building,  which, 
because  some  marine  monsters  were  observed  amons;  the 
paintings  on  the  walls,  is  called  a  Marine  Theatre.  £i  the 
centre  are  some  vestiges  of  a  small  building.  In  one  part 
of  the  circle  there  is  a  recess,  and  opposite,  about  half-way 
up,  are  some  traces  of  a  roof,  as  if  a  corridor  had  run  round 
it,  which  perhaps  served  also  as  a  ^Hery. 

Not  far  off  is  a  vaulted  grotto,  with  sn  niches  in  it,  which 
our  cicerone  called  a  fountain,  and  maintained  had  supplied 
this  maritime  theatre, — just  as  effectually,  certainly,  as  a 
pump  would  fill  the  sea. 

Near  the  Eotunda  are  the  remains  of  what  are  supposed 
to  have  been  the  libraries,  one  Greek,  and  the  other  Latin. 
They  have  been  two  stories  in  height,  and  old  people  say 
they  remember  a  ruined  staircase  which  led  to  the  upper 
one,  but  there  is  now  no  trace  of  it  left.  Both  here,  and  in 
some  small  adjacent  apartments,  we  observed  some  vestiges 
of  ancient  paintings,  almost  obliterated ;  a  vase,  with  flames 
rising  firam  it,  was  all  I  could  make  out. 

Beyond  these  we  passed  through  what  they  call  the 
Hospital,  with  divisions,  as  if  for  beds ;  and  at  its  extremity 
we  came  upon  a  loggia,  or  elevated  seat,  from  which  we 
looked  down  on  the  artificial  Vale  of  Tempe.  Deserted  and 
neglected  as  it  is,  the  deep  verdure  of  the  carpet  of  turf  that 
covers  it,  the  taU  cypress-trees  that  shade  it,  and  the  aged 
ilex  that  wreathe  round  the  ruins  which  hang  over  it,  deep 
rooted  in  their  massy  walls — ^in  their  wildness  and  luxuriancy 
of  vegetation,  have  a  beauty  and  a  melwicholy  charm  which 
accord  with  the  ruined  grandeur  of  this  magnificent  palace 
of  the  proud  master  of  the  ancient  world. 

T  2 


Digitized  by 


Google 


324  BOMS. 

Near  here  there  seems  to  have  been  a  stadium  for  foot- 
races. Two  semicircular  buildings,  apparently  baths,  bave 
been  christened  the  Temples  of  Venus  and  Diana,  although 
the  four  alcoves  for  statues  within  are  of  equal  size  and 
importance;  consequently  it  is  very  improbable  they  have 
ever  been  dedicated  to  any  one  deity.  Many  are  the 
scattered  and  unknown  ruins  to  which  not  even  antiquarian 
ingenuity  has  been  able  to  aflBx  a  name.  From  these  let  us 
proceed  to  what  has  obviously  formed  a  part  of  the  palace 
itself:  it  consists  of  a  great  number  of  apartments  of  various 
dimensions — some  very  large  and  noble.  It  has  evidently 
been  two  stories  high ;  but  how  the  lower  story  was  lighted 
is  certainly  rather  puzzling,  for  there  is  no  appearance  of 
windows.  Possibly  this  range  of  rooms  was  only  frequented 
at  night,  and  therefore  was  only  lighted  by  lamps ;  but  there 
may  have  been  another  cause  tor  it.  The  walls  are  in  many 
places  double,  with  a  vacant  space  between  them.  This 
cannot  have  been  intended  as  a  precaution  against  damp  in 
a  climate  such  as  this ;  and  it  is  more  reasonably  sup- 
posed to  have  been  a  defence  against  the  scorching  blasts 
of  the  sirocco ;  and  possibly  the  whole  of  this  lower  story 
was  built  without  windows  for  the  same  reason,  to  serve 
as  a  cool  retreat  during  the  long  continuance  of  this 
sultry  wind  in  summer.  The  upper  story  was  probably 
lighted  from  the  roof.  We  observed  a  corridor  which  has 
evidently  been  so,  for  the  square  apertures  at  the  top  still 
remain. 

The  most  interesting  part  of  the  ruins  of  the  dwelling- 
house  is  the  Cavaedium,  or  open  court,  forming  a  fine  oblong 
square,  round  which  runs  a  corridor,  supported  by  a  noble 
colonnade;  and  in  the  centre,  where  a  fountain  formerly 
flowed,  a  lofty  pine-tree  has  sprung  up,  throwing  around  its 
broad  canopy  of  shade.  "We  still  traced  here  some  faint 
vestiges  oi  ancient  painting  and  mosaic  pavement.  Not 
far  from  hence  are  some  magnificent  ruins,  called  the 
Quarters  of  the  Praetorian  Guar^  which  form  an  immense 
oblong  square,  and  consist  of  arches  four  stories  high. 
Some  of  the  apartments  seem  to  have  been  very  small ;  four 
large  rooms  at  the  end  are  remarkably  elegant.  The  stucco 
ornaments  of  the  vaulted  roofs  are,  in  many  parts,  in  high 


Digitized  by 


Google 


THE  CAirOFXrS  AND  KAUMACHIA.  325 

preseiration,  and  beautiAilly  executed — almost  with  the 
effect  of  rilievo. 

Can  this  be  the  Frytanewm  which  we  know  was  built  at 
Hadrian's  Villa,  in  imitation  of  that  of  Athens,  and  was  not 
merely  a  court  of  justice,  but  surrounded  with  the  habita- 
tions of  the  judges  and  officers  ? 

One  of  the  most  curious  remains  of  Hadrian's  Villa  are 
the  Canopus  and  Naumachia,  supposed  to  be  an  imitation 
of  the  famous  Egyptian  Temple  near  Alexandria.  The 
Naumachia  is  an  oblong  square,  nearly  six  hundred  feet  in 
length,  which  has  evidently,  from  the  marks  on  the  walls, 
been  filled  to  a  certain  height  with  water.  At  the  upper 
end  of  it  is  the  Canopus,  or  temple  of  that  deilrr.  It  is  in 
the  form  of  a  semicircle,  with  an  alcove  like  a  fountain  at 
the  top,  forming  the  seat  of  Canopus,  the  IWptian  Neptune, 
from  which  the  water  rushed  down  the  rapid  descent  into  the 
Naumachia.  In  the  sides  are  niches  for  statues,  and  here 
all  the  Egyptian  sculpture  now  at  the  Capitol  was  found. 
Behind  the  Temple  of  Canopus  are  covered  channels  for  water; 
smaU  secret  chambers,  supposed  to  have  been  intended  for 
the  convenience  of  the  priests,  and  a  very  remarkable  semi- 
circular gallery,  with  conduits  in  the  walls,  for  water, 
lighted  irom  above.  The  ceiling  is  painted,  but  the  designs 
can  scarcely  be  traced.  Prom  the  remains  of  buildings  on 
one  side  of  the  Naumachia,  and  some  corresponding  vestiges 
on  the  other,  it  would  seem  that  an  elevated  ^dlery  or 
corridor,  has  surrounded  it,  for  spectators  to  view  the  naval 
games,  mock-fights,  and  races  of  this  grand  Aquatic  Theatre. 

When  Hadrian  celebrated  the  Enccsnia  in  this  villa,  it  is 
said  some  Christian  martyrs  formed  a  part  of  the  great 
samfice  he  offered  up  to  Hercules. 

The  cicerone,  alias  vine-dresser,  of  this  villa,  next  con- 
ducted us  to  the  Schools  and  the  Habitations  of  the  Philo- 
sophers, which  he  seemed  to  be  as  well  acquainted  with  as 
if  ne  had  lived  among  them ;  and  then  to  what  he  denomi- 
nated the  Baths  of  the  Women  (the  Baths  of  the  Men  had 
been  abeady  shown  to  us  in  a  differentpart  of  the  grounds), 
which  are  really  elegant  building.  Thejr  chiefly  consist  of 
small  apartments,  two  stories  mgh,  which  are  called  the 
baths,  and  in  the  front  of  them  are  a  hall  and  rotunda.    Not 


Digitized  by 


Google 


826  BOME. 

far  from  hence  are  the  Oento  OamereUe.  They  consist  of 
about  one  hundred  and  fifty  small  arched  apartments,  or 
Bubstructions  made  to  support  the  hill,  in  some  places  of 
two,  in  others  of  three  stories,  according  to  the  varying 
height  of  the  ground.  They  are  all  arched,  and  plastered  at 
the  top,  to  resemble  hewn  stone,  though  built  of  reticulated 
work ;  they  have  no  light  or  air  but  m>m  the  entrance,  and 
no  communication  with  each  other,  and  are  all  the  same  size, 
excepting  one  large  circular  room,  at  the  angle  of  the  hill, 
probably  for  the  commanding  officer ;  for  they  are  supposed, 
and  probably  with  reason,  to  have  served  as  barracks  for 
soldiers. 

At  the  Eocca  Brune,  there  is  a  dark  circular  building, 
not  worth  describing,  called  the  Temple  of  Minerva.  Near 
it  are  'the  Elysian  Fields,'  which  present  a  most  melan- 
choly aspect.  Some  narrow  stagnant  canals,  like  ditches, 
may  have  been  meant  for  Cocytus,  &c.,  and  are  certainly 
Stygian  in  hue ;  but  images  of  the  infernal  gods,  and  Izion 
on  his  whirling  wheel,  were  found  here,  which  serves  to 
identify  the  place. 

The  Temple  of  Apollo,  at  a  distance,  on  high  ground, 
rising  from  the  woods  which  embosom  it,  had  a  very  striking 
and  picturesque  effect  as  we  approached  it,  the  golden  sky 
of  evening  shining  through  the  yawning  chasms  in  its  walls. 
It  is  said  the  statues  of  Apollo  and  the  Muses,  now  in  the 
Vatican,  were  found  here. 

The  resurrection  of  the  statues  which  once  adorned  this 
imperial  villa,  has  filled  the  museums  of  Europe  with  some 
of  their  choicest  treasures.  It  is,  indeed,  wonderful  that  so 
much  of  ancient  sculpture  should  have  come  down  to  our 
times ;  for  such  was  the  ardour  of  the  Christians,  after  the 
establishment  of  their  religion,  for  demolishing  the  beautifid 
statues  of  the  gods, — ^the  fidse  idols  of  Paganism, — ^that  in 
order  to  preserve  these  prodigies  of  art,  it  was  found  neces- 
sary to  appoint  an  Inspector  of  Statues;  and  a  nightly 
guard  patrolled  the  streets,  to  preserve  them  firom  muti- 
lation or  destruction.* 

The  age  of  Hadrian  was  the  last  great  era  of  art,  after 
which  it  rapidly  declined,  to  rise  no  more.    The  sculptures 
*  Hist,  de  TArt,  Uv.  vi,  c.  8. 


Digitized  by 


Google 


WIDE  EXTBITT  OF  ETTINS.  827 

of  tliat  period  are  distinguished  by  peculiar  grace  and 
beauty;  and  by  that  elegant  contour,  delicacy,  and  high 
fini:sh,  that  denotes  the  poKsh  of  the  last  stage  of  refinement. 
It  is  scarcely  necessary  to  observe,  that  they  were  entirely 
the  work  of  Grecian  artists.  The  Eomans  never  attained  to 
any  celebrity  in  the  arts,  and  to  the  last  were  obliged  to 
bow  to  the  genius  of  the  people  they  had  enslaved.  It  is 
iudeed  remarkable  that  the  Grreeks  should  have  maintained 
their  perfection  in  the  arts  so  long  after  the  degradation  of 
their  fiterature ;  for  even  in  the  reign  of  Commodus,  their 
very  language  was  so  corrupted  that  they  were  unable  to 
read  their  own  poets.* 

The  destruction  of  the  Villa  Adriana,  though  not  yet 
consummated,  was  early  commenced.  Caracalla  began  to 
despoil  it  of  its  exquisite  sculptures,  and  from  that  time 
forward,  it  seems  to  have  been  abandoned  to  decay ;  and  its 
wonders  of  art,  its  glories  of  antiquity,  have  perished  along 
with  it.  Even  the  most  portable  of  these,  the  masterpieces 
of  statuary,  have  been  buried  in  its  ruins ;  and  after  serving 
as  a  quany  of  the  fine  arts  for  ages,  it  probably  still  contains 
treasures  destined  to  astonish  future  generations. 

To  attempt  to  form  a  regular  plan  of  the  roofless  and 
broken  walls  of  this  once  magnificent  imperial  palace,  seems 
now  to  be  the  extreme  of  absurdity;  yet  many  have  been 
executed  by  Ligorio,  Kircher,  E6,  and  others,  which  may  be 
had  at  Eome. 

"We  left  it  at  last  with  regret,  after  having  spent  many 
hours  in  wandering  among  its  ruins  and  its  groves. 

*  Hist,  de  I'Art,  liv.  vi,  c.  7,  sect.  60. 


Digitized  by 


Google 


LETTEB  LXXXIX. 

TivoLi — Cascades — Qbotto  or  !N"EPTim»— Sibbn's  Cati 
— Temple  or  the  Sibtl,  ajstd  otheb  Bemaiks  of  As- 

TIQUITT — TOUB   or    THE   HiLL — ^VlLLA  OF   MeOJEKAS— 

LuciEN  Bonapabte's  Maktfactobieb — BuzinBD  Villas 
OF  THE  Ancient  Eomanb — ^Excubsion  to  Hobace's 
Sabote  Fabm — Majestic  Buins  of  the  Aqueducts. 

The  beauty  of  Tiyoli  consists  in  its  rocks  and  waterfails. 
It  is  to  the  Anio,— still  the  "  prseceps  Airio,"— that  it  owes 
it  ail.  And  jet  this  is  sufficient  to  consktute  the  most 
enchanting  scenes.  Amidst  the  drearj  wilds  of  the  Ciun- 
parna  you  would  never  dream  that «  spot  so  romantic  was 
at  hand.  For  twenty  tedious  miles  you  cross  its  bare,  and 
houseless  track,  you  ascend  the  hill  of  Tivoli  amidst  the^  sad 
sameness  of  the  pale  olive ;  you  enter  its  narrow  street  and 
behold  nothing  but  nieanness  and  misery ;  you  walk-  but  a 
few  steps,  and  what  a  prospect  of  unspeakable  beauiy  buists 
UDon  your  view !  .  Tremendous  precipices  of  rock,  down 
which  roars  a  headlong  torrent, — ^treefs  and  bushy  plants 
shading  its  foaming  course, — cliffs  crowned  with  tte  most 
picturesque  ruins,  and  painted  in  tints  whose  b^iuly  art 
can  never  imitate, — ^hilb,  and  woods,  and  hanging  vijae- 
yards ;  and  Tivoli  itself,  which,  peeping  out  amidst  the  dark 
cypresses  at  the  top  of  these  sunny  banks,  looks  like  an 

I  deaf  little  in  description, — ^for  words  are  inadequate  to 
convey  an  idea  of  the  beauties  and  varieties  of  nature.  The 
pencil  only  can  describe  Tivoli;  and  though  unlike  other 
scenes,  the  beauty  of  which  is  g^ierally  exaggerated  in 
picture,  no  representation  has  done  justice  to  it,  it  is  yet 
impossible  that  some  part  of  its  peculiar  charms  should  not 
be  transferred  upon  the  canvas.    It  almost  seems  as  if 


Digitized  by 


Google 


Digitized  by  VjOOQ IC 
T  :  V  O  L! ,     F  p.  O  Fv'     !  L    S  A  MO      COG  ]  ¥.  A":  O. 


Digitized  by 


Google 


CASCADES  OT  TITOLI.  329 

nature  had  herself  turned  painter  when  she  formed  this 
beautiful  and  perfect  composition. 

Having  viewed  the  fall  from  above,  we  descended  the  long 
steep  precipice  hj  a  zigzag  path  to  the  Grotto  of  Neptune, 
Bi  cave  at  the  bottom,  hollowed  out  in  the  worn  and  petrified 
rock  hj  the  boiling  flood  which  for  ages  has  beat  against  it. 
and  on  the  brink  of  the  tremendous  gulf  which  receives  it. 
The  contrast  between  the  white  silvery  foam  of  the  water 
in  the  fall,  and  their  Stygian  blackness  as  soon  as  they  reach 
this  atill  and  deep  abyss,  is  most  striking.  It  is  like  the 
torrent  of  life  swallowed  up  in  the  gulf  of  death : — and  like 
the  promise  of  immortality,  as  we  gazed  upon  it,  a  bright 
and  beautiful  rainbow  suddenly  sprung  up,  shooting  across 
the  spray,  and  connecting  earth  with  heaven  in  a  radiant 
arch  of  glory.  Upon  this  painted  arch,  it  is  fabled  that  the 
messengers  of  the  gods  and  the  angels  of  light  have  de- 
scended from  the  skies ;  and  may  it  not  to  us,  in  fancy,  open 
the  passage  to  brighter  realms  r  It  ia  the  arch  of  promise, 
the  oridge  between  distant  worlds;  and  it  seems  set  in 
heaven  to  re-assure  guiltv  man,  that  to  the  height  from 
which  he  has  fallen  by  sin  he  may  reascend  by  faith. 

But  I  must  turn  from  the  Ml  of  man  to  the  foil  of  water 
— or  rather  the  falls — ^for  here  there  are  two :  one  formed 
by  a  small  branch  of  the  river,  the  other  by  its  main  body. 
Their  united  streams  rush  onward,  and  precipitate  them- 
selves into  a  tremendous  abyss  beneath  a  natural  bridge  of 
rock,  called  the  Ponte  del  Lupo.  This  wonderful  view  can 
only  be  seen  from  the  Siren's  Cave,  to  which  we  descended 
on  the  opposite  side  of  the  river,  by  a  path  continually  wet 
with  the  dew  of  the  spray,  and  so  steep  and  slippery  that, 
to  save  ourselves  from  falling,  we  had  to  cling  to  the  Dushes 
which  fringe  the  sides  of  the  precipice.  At  length  we 
reached  the  Siren's  Cave.  But  what  a  prospect  is  here! 
!Prom  these  hollow  dripping  rocks,  on  the  very  brink  of  the 
impetuous  torrent,  which  mmost  laves  our  feet  as  it  foams 
along,  we  look  up  to  the  thundering  cataracts  above  us, 
almost  deafened  with  their  ceaseless  roar — and  look  down 
into  the  shuddering  unseen  depths  of  that  dark  abyss,  which 
yawns  beneath  to  swallow  up  tne  foaming  waters. 

Never  shall  I  forget  the  view  from  the  Siren's  Cave.    The 

Digitized  byVjOOQlC 


880  BOMB. 

tremendous  catarlMH^B  above — tie  fearful  gulf  below — ttie 
depth  of  which  our  shuddering  sight  vainly  seeks  to  fathom ; 
the  roar,  the  rage,  the  strife  of  the  maddening  waters,  im- 
pelled onward  as  if  by  an  irresistible  destiny  to  their  terrific 
doom ;  the  narrow  step  that  separates  us  from  their  sweep- 
ing fury,  hovering  as  we  stand  on  the  brink  of  perdition. 
No :  words  can  never  speak  its  sublimity ! 

To  me  a  mighty  cataraet  has  always  seemed  the  most 
sublime  of  all  the  terrors  of  nature.  There  is  something  in 
its  continuity  and  its  Tinabating  rage,  which  strikes  bur  soul 
with  awe  and  wonder.  All  things  else  ia  nature  change  mi 
perish, — and  all  that  are  the  most  fraught  with  force  ^i 
power,  are  the  most  evanescent,  excepting  this.  The  tempe»fe 
of  the  ocean  pass  away, — the  thunder-storm  endures  biit^r 
an  hour, — ^the  dread  hurricane  is  soon  at  rest— the  Y(Acsb^4 
red  streams  of  liquid  fire  grow  cold,  and  are  extinguiishefct 
and  the  earthquake  itself,  that  shakes  the  foundations  ^^Slo 
earth,  and  swallows  up  whole  nations  in  its  yawiiung  wbii^^ 
is  but  fche  convulsion  (Mf  a  day.  But  we  behold  the  ceaseless 
fall  of  that  torrent,  which  has  held  on  its  raging  course  ft?^ 
the  beginning  of  time,  and  will  continue  till  its  latest  ok^ 
— ^which  knows  no  rest,  no  stop,  no  change, — ^by  night  ifxi 
by  day,  iu  storm  and  in  sunshine,  the  same  In  etiry 
moment  of  the  past  and  the  future — ^yesterday,  to-day,  i^ 
forever!  •  *      •' 

Few  can  stand  on  that  giddy  brink,  without  horror  a&d 
trepidation  I  Such  is  the  roar  of  the  waters,  that  the  voiei^ 
of  my  companions  were  unheard;  and-  such  the  extrebae 
cold  produced  by  the  rapid  evaporation-  of  the  thick  fihowers 
of  spray,  that  on  a  day  of  intenise  heat,  our  te^h  chattered 
in  ourhead^. 

;  The  river  emerging  below  from  this.dfeep  abyss,  rushes 
foaming  down  the  rociy  windiag  dell,  forming  in  its  course 
other  fells,  and  receivuig  those  of  a  third  branch  of  flie 
Anio,  which  separates  above  the  town,  flows  round  it,  and 
foams  down  the  precipice  at  the  Villa  of  Mecffiuas;  i^  many 
a  glittering  cascade,  to  join  its  parent  stream. 

Tivoli  itself  is  lost  froni  below.  We  might  be  amidst  the 
remotest  solitudes  of  Nature ;  but  the  airy  temple  of  the 
fiibyl  on  the  cliff  above,  overhanging  the  flood,  reoals  the 


Digitized  by 


Google 


TEMPlt     or    THF      SIBYL,   iK^^'rP^^S'^ 


Digitized  by 


Google 


TEMPLE   OF  TESTA.  331 

works  of  man  in  all  their  ancient  greatness,  and  the  times 
when  he  himself  was  great. 

This  heautiful  temple,  which  stands  on  the  very  spot 
where  the  eye  of  taste  would  have  placed  it,  and  on  which 
it  ever  reposes  with  delight,  is  one  of  the  most  attractive 
features  of  the  scene,  and  perhaps  gives  to  Tivoli  its  greatest 
charm.  One  cannot  but  marvel  at  the  inconceivable  bar- 
barism of  that  Gk)th  who,  after  gazing  upon  it  in  a  spot  like 
this,  would  have  packed  it  up  and  camea  it  away,  to  bury  it 
in  an  obscure  pans:  in  England.* 

Independent  of  the  situation,  it  may  serve  as  a  model  of 
architecture ;  so  perfect  and  so  exquisitely  beautiful  are  its 
design,  its  symmetry,  and  proportions.  It  is  believed  to  be 
of  the  Augustan  age.  The  small  circular  cella  is  surrounded 
with  a  portico,  which  has  formerly  consisted  of  eighteen 
Corinthian  columns,  of  which  ten  only  are  now  standing. 
Portunately  they  are  left  on  the  side  most  essential  to  the 
beauty  of  the  view;  and  those  which  are  fallen,  perhaps 
tend  to  give  it  the  interest  and  picturesque  character  of  a 
ruin,  without  destroying  its  beauties  as  a  building.  The 
foliage  of  the  capitals  is  of  the  olive,  the  frieze  is  sculptured 
with  rams'  heads  and  festoons  of  flowers ;  and  it  is  remark- 
able that  the  columns,  which  are  of  TLburtine  stone,  have  no 
plinths. 

It  is  the  fashion  now,  merely  because  it  is  circular,  to  call 
it  the  Temple  of  Vesta.  But  this  was  one  of  the  most 
common  forms  of  ancient  temples,  and  by  no  means  exclu- 
sively appropriated  to  that  goadess.  Why,  therefore,  may 
not  the  famous  Temple  of  the  Sibyl  have  been  circular  also  ? 
Does  it  not  exactly  answer  to  the  situation  ?  Is  it  not  still 
"  Albunea  alta  ?"  the  "Domus  AlbunesB  resonantis?"t 

•  The  late  Lord  Bristol — ^that  man  of  taste — formed  this  project,  and 
actually  bought  it  of  the  innkeeper  in  whose  yard  it  stands,  and  was 
proceeding  to  have  it  packed  up  to  send  to  England  (every  stone 
numbered,  so  as  to  re-erect  it),  when  luckily  the  government  interposed, 
declared  Roman  ruins  to  be  public  property,  and  as  such  prohibited  its 
removal. 

t  I  need  scarcely  observe,  that  Albunea,  the  Tiburtine  Sibyl,  was  one 
of  the  ten  gifted  maids  whose  books  of  prophecy  were  preserved  in  the 
t«mple  of  Jupiter  Optimus  Maximus,  and  received  as  the  Oracles  of 
Italy. 


Digitized  by 


Google 


882  BOMS. 

Not  far  from  it  axe  tbe  remams  of  another  ancient  temple, 
of  an  oblong  form,  now  metamorphosed  into  the  Churcn  of 
S.  Giorgio,  with  a  portico  of  four  Ionic  columns  in  front. 
A  sepulchral  figure  of  a  man  on  a  tomb,  which  was  found 
here,  and  also  the  Anio  reclining  on  his  urn,  were  each  in 
turn  christened  the  Sybil,  and  uds  building  is  now,  by  all 
the  erudite,  called  the  Temple  of  the  SibjL  It  may  as 
probably  have  been  any  one  of  the  many  temples  that 
adorned  ancient  Tibur. 

We  are  told  to  look  for  the  site  of  the  Temple  of  Hercules 
where  the  Cathedral  now  stands,  and  we  may  fimcy  it  where 
we  please.  As  early  as  the  days  of  Constantine  it  is  said  to 
have  been  converted  into  a  christian  church,  and  dedicated 
to  S.  Lorenzo.  Augustus,  who  generally  spent  the  sanuner 
here,  used  to  sit  in  its  portico  to  administer  justice.*  I 
believe  it  was  here  too  he  sometimes  appeared  as  a  mendi- 
cant ;  for  he  used  to  beg  one  day  in  every  year,  holding  out 
his  hand  to  receive  alms, — a  penance  he  suDJected  himself  to 
in  order  to  propitiate  the  wrath  of  Neme8is,t  whose  sup- 
posed delight  it  wab  to  humble  the  proud  and  the  pros- 
perous. 

Tibur  was  the  town  sacred  to  Hercules  ;X  so  indeed  was 
almost  every  neighbouring  place  and  scene,  not  excepting 
early  Borne  itself  But  the  antiquity  of  Tibur  goes  as  fiar 
back  as  the  light  of  historv.  It  can  be  traced  more  than 
five  hundred  years  before  Kome  had  a  name,  and  its  origin 
is  lost  in  the  obscurity  of  &ble.  According  to  Yirgil,  it  was 
founded  by  some  youths,  who  must  have  come  from  Argos,§ 
while  the  world  was  vet  young,  for  that  purpose.  Stxabo, 
as  well  as  the  poet8,||  ascribes  its  origin  to  a  Greek  colonj. 
Still,  in  the  town  arms,  it  calls  itself  *  Superbum  Tibur,'^!" 
though  a  more  wretched  place  can  hardly  be  conceived. 
But  enough  of  antiquities. 

*  Snetoning,  Angpist.  f  Suet,  in  Yit.  Calig. 

t  "  UrlM  HercuU  sacra."  $  iEn.  lib.  yiL 

II  "  Tibor  Aigeo  poatum  Colono." 

Horace,  lib.  11,  ode  vi. 

" jam  mtenia  Tibnris  udi, 

"  Stabani,  Aigolictt  qua  poanere  manus." 

Ovro,  F«8ti»  It.  71. 
%  VirgU,  Mu.  Ub.  vii,  y.  627. 


Digitized  by 


Google 


CASCADE  07  THE  JlSIO.  338 

Mounted  on  asses  we  made  tKe  tour  of  the  bill.  We  first 
cross  the  Anio  by  a  wooden  bridge,  in  face  of  a  cascade, 
which  at  any  other  place  would  be  loudly  extolled,  but  at 
Tivoli  is  never  even  named, — ^then  wind  along  the  steep  side 
of  the  lull, — ^its  oHve-crowned  banks  rising  steep  above,  and 
the  river  roaring  in  its  rocky  bed  below.  In  the  whole  of 
this  delightful  little  tour  of  about  two  miles,  we  see  almost 
at  every  step  a  new  and  beautiful  picture.  The  cascades  at 
the  Grotto  of  Neptune,  the  temples,  the  caves,  the  rocks, 
the  woods,  and  the  ruins,  appear  in  continually  varying 
combinations  of  beauty.  The  spring  was  out  in  all  its  joy 
and  freshness.  The  flush  of  nature,  the  young  green  of 
the  tender  foliage,  the  banks  'tufted  with  violets,  the  trees 
glowing  with  blossom,  the  song  of  the  birds,  the  sweet  smell 
of  the  flower  of  the  vines,  and  the  brightness  and  luxu- 
riance of  vegetation,  made  one*s  heart  bound  with  joy. 

We  descended  the  precipitous  bank  nearly  to  the  bed  of 
the  river,  to  see  the  yron'  cascatelle,  as  our  rustic  ciceroni 
called  the  beautiful  broken  fall,  or  falls,  which  the  river 
makes  below.  The  effect  of  the  dtist  of  the  water  (polvere 
dell'  acqua),  as  they  called  the  spray,  in  the  brilliancy  of  the 
noon-day  sun,  was  peculiarly  fine.  They  assured  us  this  fall 
is  a  hundred  and  eighty  feet  in  height ;  be  this  as  it  may,  it 
forms  one  of  the  most  enchanting  and  picturesque  scenes  in 
the  world.  I  cannot  say  quite  so  much  for  the  long  small 
straggling  cascatelle  wmch  come  tottering  and  tumbling 
down  the  face  of  the  rock  at  the  Villa  of  MecsBuas,  like  long 
silver  hairs,  "streaming  like  a  meteor  to  the  troubled  air," 
though  they  too  are  beautiful ;  and  seen,  as  we  first  beheld 
them,  gleaming  through  the  trees,  with  the  long  arcades  of 
the  ruined  villa  above,  they  had  a  very  striking  effect.  We 
crossed  the  river  by  the  Pontecelli,  and  reascended  its 
opposite  bank  to  the  town,  by  the  Via  Valeria,*  an  ancient 
consular  road.  Part  of  its  original  construction,  huge,  flat, 
irregular  blocks  of  stone,  fitted  closely  into  each  other,  like 
the  Appian  Way,  still  remain. 

We  stopped  to  examine  il  Ihr^no  della  Ihsse^f  as  the 

*  Yicovaro  is  supposed  to  be  the  ancient  Valeria, 
t  Temple  of  the  Cough.    Great  antiquaries  have  doubted  that  there 
could  be  so  absurd  a  deity:  I  cannot  see  why  there  might  not  as  well 


Digitized  by 


Google 


834  BOMS. 

people  of  Tivoli  call  a  picturesque  ruin  of  hexagonal  form, 
overhung  with  wild  shrubs  and  eyergreens,  with  four  arched 
entrances,  windows,  and  niches  for  statues  within  and  with- 
out. Bearing  a  considerable  resemblance  to  the  Temple  of 
Minerva  Medica,  it  has  equallj  puzzled  the  antiquaries, 
Home  of  whom  call  it  a  bath,  some  a  temple,  and  some  a 
tomb. 

Two  other  vestiges  of  ruins,  siipposed  to  have  been  sepul- 
chres, near  here,  are,  from  their  form,  called  the  buttresses 
(gli  pilastri)  of  Tivoli. 

On  the  other  side  of  the  road,  close  to  the  town,  we 
entered  the  Villa  of  Mecaenas.  It  is  quite  certain  that 
MecsBuas  had  a  villa  here,  and  wholly  impossible  to  prove 
either  that  this  was  or  was  not  it.  But  since  tradition 
has  affixed  to  it,  perhaps  rightly,  the  name,  why  should  it 
not  be  retained  ?  Why  should  we  not  indulge  the  belief, 
whilst  standing  beneath  its  ruined  arches  and  corridors,  and 
g&zms  upon  the  classical  scenes  it  commands,  that  this  was 
mdeed  the  far-famed  Villa  of  MecsBnas  ?  Whatever  it  was, 
however,  the  remains  are  very  extensive,  and  the  situation 
singularly  fine.  It  stands  on  the  highest  ridge  of  the 
height,  overlooking,  on  one  side,  the  far-extended  plains  of 
the  Campagna,  with  Eome  in  the  distance,  bounded  by 
purple  mountains,  and  on  the  other  the  deep  romantic  deU 
of  the  rushing  river,  with  its  waterfalls,  its  woods,  its  rocks, 
its  ruins,  and  its  caves. 

On  the  side  of  Eome  you  still  see  the  arches  under  which 
passed  the  public  road,  and  the  Doric  porticos,  looking  to 
the  Anio,  are  in  high  preservation.  The  style  of  buil<un?, 
which  consists  of  small  stones  fitted  curiously  together,  is 
very  remarkable.  These  arcades  and  porticos,  the  large 
open  court  or  cavaedium,  the  atrium,  the  chambers  opening 
upon  it,  the  second  story  to  which  we  can  stiH  ascend,  the 
10%-  subterranean  hall  beneath,  the  massive  arches  of  stone, 

be  a  temple  to  Cough  on  the  Anio,  as  to  Fever  on  the  Palatine;  nor 
why  it  was  not  as  reasonable  to  deify  diseases  as  vices, — ^which  were 
common  objects  of  worship  among  the  Romans.  Besides,  as  the  air  of 
Tibar  was  noted  for  its  salubrity,  it  was  probably  famous  for  its  cure  of 
cough ;  and  so  a  temple  for  sacrifices,  prayers,  propitiation,  and  thanks- 
giving to  it,  would  naturally  arise  here. 


Digitized  by 


Google 


BriKS  OF  TILLAS.  835 

and  all  the  iimumerable  and  interesting  restiges  we  see, 
impress  us  with  a  high  idea  of  the  extent  and  magnificence 
of  this  ancient  villa. 

I  grieye  to  say  that  it  is  deformed  hj  the  greasy  opera- 
tions of  a  filthy  oil-mill,  and  the  grimy  apparatus  of  a  gun- 
powder manufactory,  together  with  the  hideous  wreck  of  an 
iron-foundiy,  which  luckily  failed.  The  project  was  aban- 
doned, but  the  dirt  remains.  All  the  black  Elba  iron-stone, 
and  the  dross  and  the  cinders,  and  the  abomination  belong- 
ing to  it,  are  still  blackening  every  place,  reflecting  no  great 
credit  on  the  taste  of  the  present  proprietor — Prince  Lucien 
Bonaparte.* 

Many  were  the  ruins,  or  rather  substructions,  of  Boman 
villas,  which  we  had  passed  in  our  tour  of  the  hill,  and  our 
rustic  cicerone  did  not  fail  to  attach  to  each  of  them  the 
name  of  some  celebrated  Boman  who  had  once  possessed  a 
retreat  here.  We  did  not,  however,  see  the  villa  which 
Julius  C»sar  sold  to  de&ay  the  expenses  of  his  ^dileship, 
nor  that  in  which  his  own  murder  was  planned  by  Brutus 
and  Cassius  ;t  but  we  saw  the  Villa  of  Horace  at  the  church 
of  S.  Antonio — ^though  I  see  little  reason  to  imagine  he  ever 
had  a  villa  at  Tibur ;  for  he  was  poor,  and  his  Sabine  farm 
was  only  twelve  miles  off;  and  when  he  resided  amidst  the 
beauties  of  Tibur,  it  was  probably  at  the  country-houses  of 
Mecffinas  and  his  other  fiiends.  We  saw,  too,  the  Villa  of 
Quintilius  Varus,  still  called  Qamtiliolo;  and  of  Catullus, 
which  bears  the  name  of  Truglia,  supposed  to  be  derived 
from  Catullii;  though,  for  the  life  of  me,  I  cannot  see  any 
very  great  resemblance  between  these  names.     To  these 

*  I  beliere  this  smelting  bosinesB  was  only  a  pretext  to  enable 
Lucien  Bonaparte,  unsuspected,  to  send  vessels  to  the  island  of  Elba 
from  whence  he  imported  the  iron-ore,  and  thus  to  hold  constant  com- 
munication with  his  brother.  It  ceased  with  Kapoleon's  flight  from  the 
island. 

t  Vide  Suetonius.  Life  of  Julius  Caesar.  I  was  amused  by  the 
experience  I  had  of  the  method  of  christening  ruins  here.  On  my  first 
viidt,  I  asked  one  of  our  ciceroni,  ironically,  if  he  could  not  show  mc 
this  Villa  of  Cassius,  but  he  had  no  place  for  it :  on  my  return  in 
autumn,  he  accompanied  us  again,  but  having  forgotten  me,  he  pointed 
to  a  heap  of  stones,  saying,  "  Ecco  gli  avanzi  creduti  della  Villa  di 
Cassio." 


Digitized  by 


Google 


88U  BOUE. 

two,  howerer,  we  maj  attacb  some  credit ;  but  we  also  saw 
the  villas  of  Lepidus,  of  the  poet  Archias,  of  Piso,  of  Pro- 
pertius,  of  Yopiscus,*  and  of  numj  others,  which  I  think 
was  enough  in  all  reason. 

We  saw  one  which  was  more  than  enough, — a  modem 
villa,  a  princely  villa,  and  a  most  hideous  vuLa, — ^the  Villa 
d'Este.  It  was  erected  by  the  Cardinal  Hippolito  d'Este, 
the  nephew  of  the  patron  of  Ariosto,  and  A  is  really  of  a 
piece  with  the  taste  which  his  worthy  uncle  showed  in 
that  famous  speech  he  made  to  the  poet,  on  returning  the 
Orlando : — "  Dove,  Messer  LudovicOy  a/oete pigliato  tv/tte  queste 
cofflionerief'^f 

One  cannot  but  wonder  who  couW  have  turned  from  the 
beautiful  waterfells  of  Tivoli  to  invent  these  foolish  waters 
works.  Who  could  have  beheld  these  luxuriant  shades  and 
groves,  and  projected  these  vile  clipt  hedges  and  tormented 
trees?  Who,  amidst  all  these  enchanting  beauties  of 
nature,  could  have  collected  together  aH  these  deformities 
of  art P  What  strange  depravity  of  taste!  And  yet, 
stranger  still,  these  wretched  gardens  are  admired  and 
imitated  by  the  Italians !  They  were,  it  seems,  the  first  of 
the  kind — ^the  fruitful  parent  of  all  trees  clipped  into  animals 
and  cyphers,  and  all  water  converted  into  bushes  and  mu»cal 
men ;  on  which  account  I  bear  them  a  peculiar  grudge,  for  I 
hold  in  utter  abhorrence  the  whole  of  their  monstrous  and 
unnatural  progenv. 

Not  under  this  deiSnition,  certainlv,  come  the  water- 
fSeillfl  of  Tivoli  itself,  though  you  will  be  surprised  to  hear 
they  are  artificial.  Sixtus  v.  made  the  cascade  at  the 
Grotto  of  Neptune,  as  it  now  stands.  That  most  active 
of  popes,  not  satisfied  with  his  indefatigable  labours  in  art, 
set  to  work  to  alter  nature  herself.  However,  he  seems 
to  have  borne  in  mind,  better  than  the  Cardinal,  the  poet's 
precept, 

L'Arte  che  tutta  tsi,  nuBa  si  8copre/':|: 

•  From  the  minute  deacription  of  the  villa  of  Vopiacus  by  Statins,  U 
seems  to  have  been  exactly  in  the  situation  of  some  ruins  near  tli« 
Temple  of  the  Sibyl. 

t  "  Where,  Ludovico,  did  yon  pick  up  all  this  nonsense  1" 
t  Tasso. 


Digitized  by 


Google 


MODEBir  BOCIC-DEPOSITS.  337 

for   the  eye  detects  nothing  of  it, — nature   seems    un- 
aided.* 

I  forgot  to  mention,  that,  on  the  wajr  down  to  the  Grotto 
of  Neptune,  there  is  a  distinct  impression  of  the  segment  of 
a  modem  cart-wheel  in  the  solid  rock.  It  is  difficult  to 
understand  how  such  an  immense  body  of  stone  should  have 
been  formed  above  it  since  the  very  earliest  period  such  a 
wheel  could  have  been  left  here;  and  still  more  difficult 
otherwise  to  account  for  the  phenomenon.  "We  were  told, 
too,  that  an  ancient  iron  instrument  had  been  extracted 
from  the  heart  of  a  block  of  stone,  some  years  ago.  It  cer- 
tainly seems  as  if  these  precipices  of  rock  had  oeen  depo- 
sited by  the  Anio,  because  it  rapidly  petrifies  every  sub- 
stance left  in  its  waters,  and  encrusts  it  with  a  deposit 
which,  both  to  the  eye,  and  when  subjected  to  chemical 
analysis,  is  precisely  similar  to  the  stone  of  which  they  are 
composed, — the  Tiburtine,  or  Travertine  stone.  This  cart- 
wheel impression  has  made  a  great  impression  upon  the 
"Wemerians.  They  think  it  puts  a  spoke  in  the  wheel  of 
the  Huttonian  h3rpothesis.  Far  be  it  m)m  me  to  enter  upon 
the  perilous  field  of  geological  controversy,  and  I  scarcely 
venture  to  hint  even  to  you,  that  I  cannot  but  believe  that 
both  the  elements  of  ftre  and  water,  so  powerM  in  decom- 
position, had  a  considerable,  and  neither  of  them  an  exclusive 
share,  in  the  composition  of  the  globe.  That  there  should 
be  parties  at  all  in  matters  of  science,  is  at  once  ridiculous 
and  lamentable;  but  I  must  leave  the  subject,  and  close 
my  letter,  which  already  so  greatly  exceeds  all  reasonable 
bounds,  that  I  have  no  room  to  give  you  much  account  of 
the  excursion  to  Horace's  Sabine  Farm.  It  is  about  twelve 
miles  from  Tivoli;  the  place  is  now  called  Licenza,  corrupted, 
we  may  fency,  from  Digentia.  Little  of  the  poet's  mansion 
remains,  excepting  some  mosaic  pavement,  but  the  natural 
features  of  the  scene  are  unchanged ;  and  it  well  repays  the 
labour  of  the  journey,  to  drink  of  the  spring  which  he  has 

*  The  flame  remark  applies  also  to  the  famous  Fall  of  Tend,— the 
Caduto  del  Marmore,  which  is  likewise  made  by  art.  It  is  curious,  too, 
that  the  waters  of  the  Yelino,  as  well  as  the  Amo,  have  a  powerfully 
petrifying  quality. 


VOL.  II. 


Digitized  by 


Google 


888  BOHX. 

described,  to  gaze  upon  the  scenerj  whicli  formed  tlie  daaly 
objects  of  his  contemplation,  and  to  fancy  we  discoyered  ful 
that  had  in  turn  been  the  theme  of  his  song, 

"  He  qnoties  reficit  gelidns  Digentia  liTus, 
Quern  Mandela  bibit,"  &c. 

Hob.  lib.  i,  Ep.  18. 

Even  if  you  have  not  sufficient  leisure  or  patience  to  under- 
take this  distant  and  fatiguing  expedition  upon  donkeys  (the 
only  steeds  which  Tivoli  affords)  1  would  recommend  you,  by 
all  means,  to  visit  the  aqueducts,  which  are  little  more  than 
a  mile  from  the  Porta  San  Q-iovanni.  Here,  the  noble  arches 
of  the  Aqueduct  of  Claudius,  thrown  over  the  river  and  the 
road,  built  of  immense  blocks  of  Tiburtine  stone,  overgrown 
with  ivy  and  wild  brushwood,  strike  the  eye  with  their 
grandeur ;  immediately  behind  them  appears  a  lower  line  of 
ancient  arches,  on  the  top  of  which  stands  a  ruined  Gt)thic 
tower,  the  remains  of  bloody  feudal  wars ;  the  river  rushing 
beneath,  amid  rocks,  and  crossed  by  a  rustic  bridge,  forms  a 
most  picturesque  contrast  to  the  stupendous  arch  of  the 
great  aqueduct,  which  also  spans  its  bed ;  beneath  another 
of  its  arches,  the  rural  road  we  were  traversing,  passes.  The 
effect  of  this  scene — ^the  dark  ivy,  ^e  ruined  tower,  the 
distant  hiOs,  the  rocks,  the  woods,  lighted  up  by  the  brilliant 
tints  of  the  evening  sky  of  Italy — ^with  the  group  of  our- 
selves, our  asses,  and  our  peasant  guides — formed  altogether 
one  of  the  most  picturesque  combinations  I  ever  beheld. 

Beyond  this,  the  aqueducts  accompanied  us  a  long  way, 
now  entering  the  hills,  through  which  the  water  was  carried 
in  conduits,  and  again  emerging ;  appearing  and  disappear- 
ing in  this  manner,  sometimes  three  or  four  times  m  the 
space  of  half  a  mile ;  but  the  scenery  becomes  comparatively 
tame  and  uninteresting,  and  there  is  nothing  worth  seeing. 

We  left  Tivoli  at  last  with  great  regret.  It  is  not  merely 
its  natural  beauty,  great  as  that  is,  that  forms  its  strong 
attraction  to  every  mind  of  taste  and  feeling.  There  is  not 
a  mouldering  heap  of  stone,  that  once  formed  the  villa  of  a 
Eoman,  that  does  not  recal  those  great  names  and  that 
bright  age  of  antiquity  so  dear  to  remembrance ;  nor  a  spot 
that  is  not  immortalized  in  the  most  classic  strains  of  poesy. 


Digitized  by 


Google 


ASSOOIATIOHTB  OF  TTTOLI. 

On  scenes  of  beauty,  sucli  as  these,  we  must  ever  gaze  with 
admiration ;  but  we  view  them  with  redoubled  interest;  when 
we  think  that  the  great  in  every  age  have  also  gazed  upon 
them ;  and  we  feel  that  they  possess  a  more  powerful  charm 
from  having  been  the  chosen  retreat  of  those  whose  memory 
is  consecrated  among  men. 

The  voices  of  its  bards  still  seem  to  whisper  in  its  winds 
and  murmur  in  its  fountains ;  the  muses  still  linger  in  its 
consecrated  groves ;  and  the  spirits  of  its  great  philosophers 
still  seem  to  hover  round  tne  mouldering  walls  of  their 
ancient  homes,  and  the  forgotten  sepulchres  where  their 
remains  repose. 


z2 

Digitized  by  VjOOQIC 


^ 


840  BOMI. 


LETTER  XC. 

PsASCATi — Villas  or  the  Modesn^  Eoman-s — Cato — 
PoBCLAir  Meadows — ^Lake  Eegillus — ^Euins  of  Tus- 
cxTLiTM — Site  or  Cicero's  Villa — ^New  Excayations 

—  TUSCXTLUM     AITD     PoMPEII  —  LtTCIEN     BoNAPABTE's 

Villa — Tomb  and  Villa  op  Litcullus — ^Mokumebtts 
TO  Cabdikal  Yob£  aitd  the  Pbetekdeb. 

Ip  Tivoli  was  the  favourite  retreat  of  the  ancient  Eomans, 
it  is  not  so  of  the  modems.  They  leave  its  rocks,  its  caves, 
its  woods,  its  waterfalls,  and  its  ruins,  to  be  gazed  upon  hj 
peasant  eyes — ^for  none  but  rustics  inhabit  it ;  and  for  the 
most  part,  they  fix  their  large,  dull,  formal,  comfortless, 
country-seats,  in  a  cluster  at  Frascati ;  which  may  be  a  very 
pleasant  place,  but  wants  that  living  stream  that  gives 
Tivoli  its  charm,  and  all  those  classic  ruins  and  remem- 
brances, that  invest  it  with  a  still  higher  interest.  Frascati 
does  not  occupy  the  site  of  the  ancient  Tusculum,  which 
was  on  the  top  of  the  hill,  while  it  is  built  on  the  side,  a 
mile  at  least  from  it ;  nor  is  there  a  single  vestige  of  anti- 
quity, or  spot  fiamed  in  classic  lavs,  near  its  proud  villas. 
But  it  is  only  half  the  distance  u*om  Eome,  and  that  is, 
perhaps,  the  greatest  beauty  to  a  people  who  consider  rural 
life  as  banishment. 

Frascati  is  said  to  have  derived  its  name  from  the  frmche^ 
or  leafy  boughs  of  trees,  with  which  the  unfortunate  inha- 
bitants of  Tusculum  constructed  their  huts,  when  their  city- 
was  razed  to  the  ground  by  the  barbarous  (barbarized) 
Eomans,  in  the  twelfth  century.*  In  frasche^  it  may  be 
said,  they  still  live;  for  beautiful  woods  of  arbutus.  Hex, 

•  In  the  year  1187.  A  few  years  previous  to  this  the  Tusculans  had 
defended  dieir  city  bravely  from  the  attacks  of  the  Romans,  whom  they 
had  defeated,  when  led  on  by  Frederick  Barbaroesa,  with  immense  loss. 


Digitized  by 


Google 


TBABCATI.  841 

cypTess,  and  the  stone-pine,  shade  the  stately  villas  which 
surround,  and  indeed  ahnost  compose,  Erascati. 

We  went  through  a  most  tiresome  succession  of  these 
villas.  They  are  aU  like  large  palaces,  carried  from  the  city 
into  the  country.  Booms  of  state,  not  of  domestic  habita- 
tion ;  and  decorations,  not  conveniences,  seem  to  prove  that 
all  is  meant  for  show,  not  use,  and  made  to  look  at  rather 
than  to  live  in. 

Out  of  doors,  their  little  circumscribed,  artificial  grounds ; 
their  clipped  tress,  formal  theatres,  bad  statues,  vile  giuoehi 
d^acqua,  tricks,  and  puppet-shows,  are  a  wretched  substitute 
for  gardens  and  pleasure-grounds  and  extended  parks,  in  all 
the  bloom  and  luxuriance  of ''  Nature  to  advantage  dressed." 
At  the  Vill^  Ludovisi  (now  Conti)  we  saw  long  waterfalls 
tumbling  down  stone  steps,  in  a  most  leisurely  manner,  and 
divers  y»tM>cAi  cTaeaua  of  different  species.  But  at  the  Villa 
Aldobrandini,  or  Belvedere,  we  were  introduced  to  the  most 
multifarious  collection  of  monsters  I  hope  ever  to  behold. 
Giants,  centaurs,  &runs,  cyclops,  wild  beasts,  and  gods,  blew, 
bellowed,  and  squeaked,  without  mercy  or  intermission ;  and 
horns,  pan's-pipes,  organs,  and  trumpets,  set  up  their  com- 
bined notes  in  such  a  dissonant  chorus,  that  we  were  fain  to 
fly  before  them ;  when  the  strains  that  suddenly  burst  forth 
m>m  ApoUo  and  the  nine  Muses,  who  were  in  a  place  apart, 
compelled  us  to  stop  our  ears,  and  &ce  about  again  in  the 
opposite  direction. 

When  this  horrible  din  was  over  (and  it  was  put  an  end 
to  at  our  earnest  supplication),  we  were  carried  back  to 
admire  the  now  silent  Apollo  and  Muses, — a  set  of  painted 
wooden  dolls,  seated  on  a  little  mossy  Parnassus,  in  a 
summer-house, — a  plaything  we  should  have  been  almost 
ashamed  to  have  made  even  for  the  amusement  of  children. 
All  these  creatures,  in  the  meantime,  were  spouting  out 
water.  The  lions  and  tigers,  however  contrary  to  their 
usual  habits,  did  nothing  else ;  and  the  *"  great  globe  itself," 
which  Atlas  was  bearing  on  his  shoalders,  instead  of  *^  the 
solid  earth,"  proved  a  mere  aqueous  ball,  and  was  over- 
whelmed in  a  second  deluge.  I  was  sitting  patiently  on  one 
of  the  steps  at  the  door,  waiting  the  pleasure  of  my  com- 
panions to  depart,  when,  to  their  inexpressible  amusement, 


Digitized  by 


Google 


842  BOMB. 

water  suddenly  began  to  spirt  up  beneath  me,  and  all  round 
about  me,  drenching  me  with  a  shower  fi*om  the  earth 
instead  of  the  skies. 

The  view  from  this  villa  is  beautiful ;  aud  there  are  some 
frescos  in  the  rooms,  said  to  be  veiy  fine ;  but  whether  my 
admiration  was  chiUed  by  my  cold  bath,  or  whether  they 
really  are  not  very  admirable,  I  did  not  think  them  so. 

The  Yilla  Mondragone  has  more  windows  than  days  in 
the  year ;  I  ought  rather  to  speak  in  the  past  tense ;  for,  about 
eighteen  years  ago,  it  was  despoiled  by  Neapolitan  brigands, 
and  has  now  scarcely  any  wmdows  at  all.  I  saw  nothing 
but  the  colossal  bust  of  the  younger  Faustina,  lying  neg- 
lected on  the  ground  among  rubbish ;  the  head  severea  from 
the  neck.  The  famous  bust  of  Antinous  (the  finest  Antinoiis 
iu  the  world),  which  also  belonged  to  this  villa,  was  carried 
off  by  the  French  as  a  part  of  the  Borghese  Collection,  and 
stiQ  remains  in  the  Louvre. 

The  ride  to  Mondragone,  through  magnificent  avenues  of 
ilex,  is  truly  beautiful.  From  the  grounds  near  it  rises  the 
beautiful  height  of  Monte  Algido,*  once  the  seat  of  the 
ancient  city  of  Algidum,  now  covered  with  woods,  the  haunt 
of  notorious  robbers.    Monte  Porcio,  on  the  west,  the  re- 

Euted  birth-place  of  Cato,  and  the  hereditary  property  of 
is  family,  is  a  highly  interesting  object.  It  was  here  that 
Curius  bentatus,  the  triumphaiit  conqueror  of  Pyrrhus, 
fixed  his  humble  abode,  and  was  found  boiling  his  turnips 
when  the  Samnite  ambassadors  came  to  proffer  him  their 
gold.  Below  Monte  Porcio  the  country  people  pointed  out 
to  us  the  Porcian  Meadows,  the  Frati  Forciiy  as  they  still 
call  them.  They  also  showed  us  Colonna,  near  which,  and 
at  the  base  of  Monte  Falcone,  is  the  Lake  Eegillus, — ^now 
little  better  than  a  puddle, — so  famed  for  the  victory  gained 
over  the  sons  of  Tarquin,  when  Castor  and  Pollux,  after 
fighting  in  the  ranks  oi  the  Eoman  army,  brought  the  news 
of  the  victory  with  preternatural  speed  to  Eome,  and  dis- 
appeared with  their  foaming  steeds  in  the  waters  of  the 
Li^e  Jutuma. 

At  Frascati  we  mounted  our  asses  and  ascended  the  hill 
to  visit  the  site  of  Tusculum,  having,  with  some  difficulty, 
*  Horace,  lib.  i,  Od.  21,  calls  it "  OeUdo  Algido." 


Digitized  by 


Google 


SITE  OF  Tir^CITLFM.  348 

got  the  mob  of  ragged  ciceroni  who  flocked  around  us, — 
ambitious,  not  of  the  honour  but  the  profit  of  attending  us, 
reduced  to  one-half.  Emerging  from  the  woods  which  cover 
its  lower  part,  we  passed  the  Capuchin  convent,  and  soon 
began  to  remark  the  stones  and  weed-covered  heaps  that 
form  the  scattered  remains  of  the  city  whose  name  is  famed 
throughout  the  civilized  world. 

The  laurel  flourishes  at  the  Buffinella,  formerly  the 
country-house  of  the  Jesuits,  now  Lucien  Bonaparte's,  and, 
in  the  opinion  of  many,  once  the  site  of  Cicero*s  Tusculan 
Villa,  it  is  situated  high  on  the  hill,  near  the  ruins  of 
Tusculum,  and  therefore  it  perhaps  would  seem  a  more 
probable  situation  for  it  than  &rotta  Ferrata,  two  miles  off, 
in  the  valley.  Some  bricks  that  were  picked  up  here,  in- 
scribed with  the  name  of  Cicero,  seem  to  give  support  to 
this  opinion ;  for  if  his  villa  had  been  at  Grotta  Ferrata,  it 
seems  improbable  that  such  heavy  articles  would  have  been 
brought  from  thence  up  this  mountain  to  add  to  the  useless 
heaps  that  were  before  lying  here  from  the  wreck  and  ruin 
of  the  city.  We  may  therefore,  perhaps,  venture  to  indulge 
the  belief  that  we  really  stand  upon  the  site  of  the  Villa  of 
Cicero,  and  that  the  beautiful  mosaic  pavement  found  here, 
of  a  Minerva's  head  surrounded  with  masks,  now  in  the 
Vatican,  once  belonged  to  it. 

Some  people  again  have  imagined  that  he  had  one  villa 
here,  near  the  top  of  the  hill,  and  another  at  the  bottom,  at 
Grotta  Ferrata.  It  certainly  seems  improbable  that  he 
should  have  had  two  villas  within  two  nules  of  each  or  the, 
— ^though  the  Borghese  family  have  now  three  within  a 
circuit  of  the  same  extent.  Cicero,  however,  always  speaks 
of  one  Tusculan  villa  only,  and  he  ought  to  know  best. 
But  the  hypothesis  of  the  two  villas  was  that  which  pleased 
our  guides ;  and  they  pointed  out  to  us  some  ruins  above 
the  Kuffinella,  consistmg  of  a  sort  of  portico  with  two 
ranges  of  arches,  and  assured  us  these  were  the  real  iden- 
tical ruins  of  Cicero's  upper  villa,  and  that  a  subterranean 
way,  of  which  they  showed  us  the  mouth,  leads  from  hence 
to  Grotta  Ferrata,  his  lower  villa:  though  why  Cicero 
should  have  made  the  road  to  his  house  underground  rather 
than  above  is  somewhat  difficult  to  understand.     One  of 


Digitized  by 


Google 


844  BOHX. 

these  men  declared  he  had  advanced  akn^  it  more  tiian  a 
mile  with  a  Eussiao,  who  would  explore  it,  but  that  thej 
were  then  obliged  to  turn  back,  being  nearly  suffocated — ^a 
misfortune  that  might  probably  hare  happened  to  Cicero 
himself,  if  he  had  ever  eone  that  road. 

My  learned  donkey-ariYer  and  cicerone — ^for  so  he  styled 
himself-— next  pointed  out  some  remains  of  buildings,  which 
he  called  ^ La  seuola  di  Oicerane'  (the  school  of  Cicero), 
and  he  straightway  began  to  explain  to  us  who  Cicero  was, 
conceiying  him  to  be  a  personage  whom  we  neyer  could 
haye  heard  of;  and  he  certainly  eaye  us  much  new  informa- 
tion concerning  him,  for  he  tola  us  that  he  waa  '  u»  grofiC 
maestro,^  not  of  philosophy  or  rhetoric,  but '  of  languages ;' 
and  that  he  taught  a  great  many  ragazTsini  (little  boys) 
twenty-four  different  tongues — ^not  to  mention  reading, 
writing,  and  arithmetic ! 

It  would  haye  been  impossible  to  haye  conyinced  him  that 
Cicero  was  not  a  schoolmaster.*  To  this  ayocation,  he 
assured  us,  Oicerone  added  that  of  showing  all  the  eose  rare 
of  the  place  to  strangers  (like  himself),  on  which  account 
he,  our  cicerone,  was  called  after  him ! 

Among  the  shapeless  heaps  of  ruin  which  coyer  the  hiH, 
the  aradus  of  an  ancient  amphitheatre  are  yery  discernible, 
the  lower  parts  of  which  are  entirely  oyergrown  with  bushes 
and  brambles.  Our  guide  called  it  a  Colcieo  ;  for  this,  from 
an  indiyidual,  has  become  a  generic,  name  for  amphitheatres, 
— at  least  I  suppose  so,  for  I  heard  it  also  at  Old  Capua, — 
just  as  a  Vesvmo  is  the  uniyersal  Italian  appellation  of  a 
yolcano. 

On  one  of  the  large  blocks  of  stone  that  were  lying  about 
near  here,  dug  up  in  Lucien  Bonaparte's  late  excayation,  I 
obseryed  this  inscription : 

....  LOCAVIT  P.  GABINI 

I  haye  since  found  that  other  yestiges  had  preyiously  given 

*  We  find,  by  one  of  Cicero's  letters,  that  when  driTon  into  retire- 
ment, after  the  death  of  Pompey,  he  instituted  a  philosophical  academy 
in  his  own  house  at  Tusculum ;  some  confused  idea  of  which,  picked  up 
from  the  discourse  of  the  strangers  whom  he  followed,  had  doubtless 
occasioned  the  blunder  <tf  our  ragged  guide  as  to  the  profession  of 
Cicero. 


Digitized  by 


Google 


BTJiyS  AJSTD  EXCATATIOKS.  845 

rise  to  the  belief  that  the  villa  of  Gkibinius  was  near  here, 
aoid  this  inscription,  perhaps  placed  by  some  descendant  of 
the  Tribune,  seems  to  confirm  it. 

Prince  Lucien  is  carrying  on  the  excavations  amongst 
the  ruins  of  Tusculum  with  great  spirit.  He  has  abeady 
brought  to  light  an  ancient  street,  or  road,  paved  with  large 
flat  unsquared  stones,  laid  down  in  their  natural  irregular 
form,  but  closely  fitted  together,  like  the  pavement  of  the 
Via  Appia,  or  the  streets  of  Pompeii.  It  has  a  very  solid, 
but  somewhat  rude  and  clumsy  appearance.  This  Tusculan 
street,  however,  has  not,  like  those  of  Pompeii,  side-paths, 
or  trottoirs,  for  foot-passengers,  though,  like  them,  it  has  a 
fountain  at  the  comer.* 

The  reticulated  walls  of  a  row  of  houses,  with  remains  of 
yellow  stucco  upon  them,  still  more  strongly  reminded  us  of 
the  disinterred  mansions  of  Pompeii.  I  wonder  if  the  tra- 
vellers, who  tell  us  that  in  its  streets  "  they  could  not  help 
being  astonished  that  the  inhabitants  of  the  town  did  not 
appear,"  would  have  the  same  feelings  here.  I  own  I  never 
experienced  them  in  either  place.  I  never  "hesitated  to 
enter  a  house  in  Pompeii,  lest  the  master  should  come  to 
meet  me,"  or  expected  che  oil-merchant,  or  the  wine-seller 
"to  jump  up  behind  the  little  marble  counters  of  their 
shops."  t  Indeed,  this  impression  is  to  me  wholly  incom- 
prehensible.   Broken  walls,  open  doorways,  empty  chambers, 

*  In  these  simple  fountams,  the  water  genenlly  flows  through  the 
open  mouth  of  a  marble  ram's  head,  or  sometimes  a  mask,  into  a  deep 
trough  or  cistern. 

t  There  are  two  oil-shops  at  Pompeii,  with  large  earthem  jars  for 
the  oil,  sunk  in  the  narrow  marble  counter.  In  another  shop,  this  little 
dab  of  marble  is  marked  with  rims,  apparently  stained  from  the  wet 
bottoms  of  cups ;  and  as  coffee  was  unknown  in  those  days,  we  must 
suppose  it  to  have  been  a  plaoe  for  the  sale  of  wine,  or  liqueurs,  if  they 
had  any.  We  know  that  Thermopolia,  or  shops  where  warm  liquors  were 
sold,  were  in  use  as  early  as  the  first  Punic  war,  and  probably  this  was 
one  of  the  Thermopolia  of  Pompeii  Next  door  to  one  of  the  oil-shops, 
is  a  baker's  shop,  with  a  furnace  and  oven  for  baking  bread,  and  great 
stone  mills,  exactly  on  the  construction  of  our  coffee  hand-mills,  for 
grinding  the  flour.  Is  it  possible  that  the  ancient  Romans  had  no 
better  contriyance)  Scripture,  which  was  contemporaneous  with  this 
period,  speaks  of  "two  women  grinding  at  a  mill;"— in  all  probability 
just  such  a  mill  as  this  at  Pompeii 


Digitized  by 


Google 


846  BOME. 

with  the  painted  stucco  half  stripped  off;  floors,  with  the 
parement  torn  up ;  and  houses  whoUj  roofless,  and  open  to 
the  li^ht  of  heaven,— can  this  give  an  idea  of  habitation  ? 
No — ^it  presents  an  appearance  of  a  ruined  and  forsaken 
city,  whose  inhabitants  have  gone  down  to  the  grave.  It 
is,  indeed,  wonderful  to  think  that  two  thousand  years  ago 
these  chambers,  and  streets,  and  theatres,  and  temples,  were 
thronged  with  busy  citizens — ^wonderful  to  see  the  fi^shness 
of  the  paintings  where  they  have  been  left  on  the  walls,  of 
the  names  of  the  people  above  their  doors,  of  the  idle,  un- 
meaning scrawls,  scratched  in  their  vacant  hours,  of  the 
stone  trielimum  where  they  used  to  eat,  and  of  the  marble 
altars  where  they  used  to  worship.  But  there  is  nothing  to 
remind  us  of  present  life,  or  human  occupation.  All  is 
ruinous  and  desolate.  I  ought,  perhaps,  to  except  the  half- 
finished  buildings  of  the  Forum,  with  its  basOica,  temples,  &c., 
which,  having  been  shattered  by  one  of  the  earthquakes  that 
gave  warning  (unheeded,  uncomprehended  warning)  of  the 
coming  destruction, — ^the  unfortunate  Fompeians  were  in 
the  act  of  repairing  and  rebuilding,  when  Vesuvius,  after  the 
repose  of  countless  ages,  burst  forth  into  those  flames  that 
have  never  since  been  quenched,  and  into  that  tremendous 
eruption  which  overwhelmed  their  city  beneath  its  ruins.* 
There,  indeed,  every  object  tends  to  impress  the  eye  with 
the  belief  of  present  business  and  occupation.  The  large 
blocks  of  stone,  half-chipped  over  with  the  fresh  marks  of 
the  chisel, — ^the  flags  lymg  ready  to  insert  in  the  hatf- 
finished  pavement — ^the  Doric  columns  round  the  Porum 

*  Pompeii  was  covered  with  the  soft  ashes  from  the  volcano,  which 
are  easily  removed.  So,  probably,  was  the  neighbouring  village  (or 
rather,  perhaps,  villa)  of  Stabiae.  Herculanetun  is,  however,  filled  with 
a  substance  which  time  has  turned  into  stone.  It  was  formerly  thought 
to  be  congealed  lava ;  but  had  that  fiery  torrent  inundated  the  city,  the 
bronze  statues,  and  all  the  metallic  and  glass  vessels,  which  were  found 
entire,  would  have  been  fused ;  it  is  therefore  conjectured  that  the  beds 
of  ashes  which  filled  it  almost  instantaneously,  were  mixed  with  the 
streams  of  boiling  water  which  are  thrown  out  in  every  eruption,  and 
were,  we  know,  in  this ;  and  that  this  mud,  hardening,  has  produced 
the  tufo  which  fills  it.  The  impression  of  the  head  of  one  of  the  bronze 
statues  was  found  on  the  stone  in  which  it  was  cased,  like  a  mould ;  so 
that  the  mass  must  have  been  in  a  liquid  or  soft  form  when  it  closed 
round  it. 


Digitized  by 


Google 


VIEW  TEOM  TEASCATI.  347 

half-raised, — ^the  temples  at  the  extremities  half-built, — the 
walls  of  unequal  height  half-carried  up, — ^all  had  such  an  air 
of  new  buildings  going  on,  that,  mistaking  the  men  who 
were  digging  out  the  rubbish  for  workmen  employed  in 
erecting  them,  a  gentleman  of  our  party  indignantly  asked 
them  what  they  were  building  there  r 

Excepting  this  spot  in  Pompeii, — the  last  excavated,  and 
by  far  the  most  interesting, — there  is  nothing  to  call  up 
such  a  delusion ;  nothing  that  does  not  speak  of  the  past 
rather  than  the  present. 

I  remember  nothing  surprised  me  more  in  Pompeii,  thau 
the  diminutive  size  of  every  object.  The  narrow  track  of 
the  wheels  down  the  streets,  which  showed  the  smaUness 
of  their  carriages ;  the  little  streets  themselves ;  the  little 
houses ;  the  ridiculously  little  rooms,  no  larger  than  a  light 
closet ;  the  little  shops,  and  even  the  Httle  temples,  seemed 
calculated  for  a  race  of  pigmies ;  and  one  could  hardly  un- 
derstand how  that  portly  personage — ^a  Eoman  in  his  toga, 
could  have  moved  about  in  them.* 

But  I  forget  that  I  am  at  Tusculum,  not  at  Pompeii. 
Its  few  remaiQs  that  are  above  ground  I  have  already 
noticed.  It  seems  to  have  been  built  upon  the  bed  of  some 
volcanic  eruption  of  incomputable  antiquity,  for  lavas  have 
been  dug  out  below  the  ruins,  and  also  quantities  of  cinders, 
like  those  of  Vesuvius ;  with  which,  indeed,  the  whole  hill 
is  covered.  In  this  respect,  too,  it  resembles  Pompeii, 
where,  beneath  the  foundations  of  the  houses,  lavas,  &c. 
are  brought  up ;  and  even  at  the  distance  of  three  hundred 

Ealmst  below  the  surface  (the  greatest  depth  that  has  been 
ored),  volcanic  matter  is  stiU  found. 
Prom  the  summit  of  the  hill  of  Prascati,  the  view  is  most 
grand  and  extensive.  The  eye,  resting  for  a  moment  on 
the  towers  and  cupolas  of  Home,  and,  more  than  all,  on  the 
great  dome  of  St.  Peter's,  wanders  far  over  the  wide  plain 
of  the  Campagna,  to  the  purple  heights  of  Mount  Ciminus 
and  Soracte,  on  the  north ;  to  the  Sabine  Hills,  backed  by 

*  Excavations  have  been  carried  on  to  such  an  extent  at  Pompeii 
since  the  authoress  visited  it,  that  many  larger  streets  and  buildings 
may  probably  have  been  brought  to  light. 

t  Upwards  of  170  feet. 


Digitized  by 


Google 


348  BOHX. 

the  lof^  Apemunes,  on  the  east ;  and  to  the  blue  waters 
of  the  Mediterranean,  which  bound  the  prospect,  on  the 
west. 

On  our  left,  immediately  above  ns,  rose  the  wood-covered 
height  of  Monte  Cavo,  towering  in  majesty  to  the  skies. 
Far  beneath  us,  on  the  right,  the  little  lake  of  Gabii,  where 
stood  the  ancient  city  of  that  name,  attracted  the  eye  by 
its  gleaming  waters ;  so  totally  destitute  of  banks,  that  it 
looked  like  a  looking-glass  lying  on  the  ground. 

In  descending,  we  stopped  at  the  Euffinella.  Lucien 
Buonaparte  has  bestowed  much  money,  but  little  taste,  in 
its  embellishment.  Ancient  ilex,  the  growth  of  ages,  have 
been  lopped  into  skeleton  trees,  and  are  interspersed  with 
little  parterres,  newly  made,  embroidered  with  the  names 
of  Homer,  Virgil,  Eacine,  Ac,  planted  in  box,  and  framed 
in  the  same!  The  statue  of  Apollo  has  been  stuck  up 
amongst  them,  as  if  this  ingenious  device  had  been  inspired 
by  that  god  himself.  There  is  no  want  of  bad  busts  and 
modem  statues,  clipped  hedges,  and  formal  ^rass  walks. 
Forlorn  dirty  offices  meet  the  eye ;  the  slovenly,  neglected 
appearance  of  everythiag  gives  this  princely  villa  an  air 
of  utter  wretchedness ;  and  we  look  in  vain  for  flowers  or 
shrubs,  for  bloom  or  fi*agrance,  for  nature  or  beauty. 

The  chapel  in  the  interior  is  pretty,  and  contams  three 
tolerable  paintings  by  Carlo  Maratti, — ^a  monument,  erected 
by  Prince  Lucien  to  his  first  wife,  who  died  at  the  age  of 
twenty-six;  another  to  his  son,  who  died  in  the  prime  of 
youth ;  and  a  third  to  his  own  and  Napoleon's  father,  who 
was  bom  at  Corsica,  and  died  at  Mon^elier,  at  the  age  of 
thirty-six,  and  who,  judging  from  his  bust,  must  have  had 
an  uncommonly  fine  commanding  coimtenanee. 

In  the  little  town  of  Frascati,  we  saw  the  tomb  of 
Lucullus,  a  name  which  tradition  alone  has  given.  Once 
it  has  been  a  magnificent  building,  but  now  it  serves  for  a 
•ig-stye.  The  exterior  is  nearly  destroyed,  and  two  dirty 
lOuses  are  bmlt  against  it. 

I  forgot  to  mention,  in  their  proper  place,  the  (knironi 
di  Lucmlo,  as  the  country  people  call  some  curious  and  very 
extensive  substractions,  in  the  form  of  an  oblong  square, 
which  Centroni  they  maintain  to  have  been  the  cellars  of 


t 

n< 


Digitized  by 


Google 


TOMB  OF  THB  STTTAET  TAMILT.  349 

that  great  epicurean's  villa.  Their  extent,  indeed,  enormous 
as  it  is  (and  by  pacing,  the  gentlemen  of  our  party  com- 
puted it  to  be  about  450  feet  in  length),  would  scarcely 
be  disproporfcioned  to  that  of  a  yilla,  which,  according  to 
Pliny,*  covered  whole  acres,  and  "  made  land  scarce." 

According  to  some  accounts,  Prascati  was  the  real  birth- 
place of  Metastasio. 

In  the  cathedral, — ^a  paltry  structure, — ^is  a  paltry  monu- 
ment to  Cardinal  York,  the  last  of  the  Stuarts,  who  was 
cardinal  bishop  of  this  diocese;  and  another  to  Prince 
Charles  Edward,  the  Pretender. 

The  inscription,  which  is  sufficiently  simple,  you  may 
perhaps  like  to  see.     It  is  as  follows : — 

"Hie  situs  est  Carolns  Odoardus  cut  Pater  Jacobus  III.  Eez  AnglisB, 
Scotise,  Francise,  Hibemise,  Primus  Katorum,  patemi  Juris  et  regisa 
dignitatis  successor  et  hasres,  qui  domicilio  sibi  Bomae  delecto  Comes 
Albaniensis  dictus  est 

"Vixit  Annos  LVII  et  mensem;  decessit  in  Pace. — Pridie  Kal. 
Feb.  Anno  MDCCLXXXVIl.  " 

It  was  not  over  the  dust  of  the  last  of  this  ill-fated  race, 
that  we  could  recal  to  mind  their  errors ;  pity  for  their  mis- 
fortunes could  not  fail  to  find  its  way  to  our  hearts ;  yet  we 
could  not  but  reflect,  that  had  they  sat  on  the  throne  of 
their  fathers,  and  their  royal  tomb  arisen  in  the  land  of 
their  birth,  we  might  now  have  had  cause  to  mourn  for  the 
wrongs  and  liberties  of  our  country,  instead  of  the  misfor- 
tunes of  her  expelled  kings. 

♦  Pliny,  lib.  iv,  cap.  6. 


Digitized  by 


Google 


850  BOHS. 


LETTEB  XCI. 

Gbotta  Febbata — CiCBBo's  Villa — Dou^miosrso'B 
Fbesoos — Mabiko. 

NoTHtNCh  caa  exceed  the  beauty  of  the  diire  from  Frascati 
to  Albano ;  for  nine  miles  we  continue  to  pasa  through  a 
varied  succesBion  of  the  most  romantic  and  picturesque 
scenery!  We  first  drove  through  the  grounds  of  the  Villa 
Giustiniani,  and.  along  a  road  sh^^cLe^  with  umbrageous 
woods  of  oak  and  ilei,  to  the  church  and  convent  of  Grotta 
Ferrata,  one  of  the  supposfed  sites  of  Cicero's  Tusculan 
ViUa.  The  situation  is  delightful;  the  ancient  trees  and 
so£k  verdant  meadows  around  it,  almost  remiaded  me  of 
soffl,e'Of  the  loveliest  scenes  of  England;  and  the  little 
brook  "that  babbles  by,"  was  not  the  less  interesting,  from, 
the  thought  that  its  murmurs  might,  perchance,  have  once 
soothed  the  ear  of  Cicero.  It  is  now  called  the  Marana, 
but  is  generally  thought  to  be  the  Aqtia  Orahra,  which  he 
celebrates.  Certainly  this  rivulet  affords  a  strong  presump- 
tion that  it  is  the  true  site  of  Cicero's  Villa.  He  would 
scarcely  have  described  it  as  he  does,  had  it  been  two  miles 
off.  Some  remarkable  pieces  of  sculpture  are  said  to  have 
been  discovered  here,  which  answer  to  descriptions  he  gives 
in  his  letters  of  the  ornaments  of  his  villa — ^particularly  a 
Hermathene,  or  united  statue  of  Mercury  and  Minerva — 
and  a  table  supported  by  images  of  the  Gods.  A  headless 
bust  inscribed  with  his  name  was  also  dug  up  here ;  and  a 
medal  with  a  head  of  Cicero,  in  fine  preservation,  is  also 
said  to  have  been  found  here.  Two  small  bas-reliefs,  which 
are  placed  in  the  adjacent  episcopal  palace,*  are  still  to  be 

•  The  same  palace  fonnerly  inhabited  by  Cardinal  York,  which  at 
the  time  of  our  visit,  was  in  the  posaession  of  Cardinal  Qonsalvo,  the 
then  Bishop  of  FrascatL 


Digitized  by 


Google 


Digitized  by 


Google 


r- 


I  TIL. 


^■-.H-^    i 


Digitized  by 


Google 


GEOTTA  rSBEiiBA.  851 

t9een.  One  represents  a  young  philosoplier,  sitting  with  a 
scroll  in  his  hand;  the  other  (a  strange  subject),  martial 
figures,  supporting  legs  of  a  semi-colossal  size. 

But  so  numerous  and  thickly  set  were  the  yillas  of  the 
Bomans  at  Tusculum  in  all  ages  of  the  republic  and  empire, 
that  perhaps  fancy  alone  could  lead  us  to  suppose  it  pos- 
sible now  to  trace  the  vestiges  or  the  site  of  the  only  one 
which  excites  our  interest — ^the  Villa  of  Cicero;  and  the 
spot  we  view  with  veneration  as  consecrated  by  his  genius, 
may  have  been  the  retreat  of  the  infamous  Agnppina.* 

The  convent  of  G^reek  BasiHan  monks  at  Qrotta  Eerrata 
was  founded  by  a  St.  Nilo,  or  Nilus,  in  the  tenth  century, 
and  if  there  was  anything  so  heathenish  as  a  vestige  of 
Cicero's  Villa  at  that  time,  no  doubt  he  would  piously  sweep 
it  all  away.  But  the  loss  of  the  ruins  of  Cicero's  Villa  did 
not  give  me  half  so  much  pain  as  the  sight  of  the  ruins  of 
Domenichino's  eighteen  frescos,  which  are  mouldering  on 
the  mildewed  walls  of  the  musty  old  chapels  of  the  saints, 
and  are  already  so  destroyed  that  the  next  generation  will 
probably  never  behold  them.  Yet  there  is  one  of  them  (the 
Demoniac  Boy)  which  is  beyond  all  comparison  the  finest 
of  his  works, — ^not  even,  I  tmnk,  excepting  the  Communion 
of  St.  Jerome ;  nor  do  I  know  any  painting  in  the  world 
that  surpasses  it,  except  some  of  Itaphad's.  You  will 
remember  that  the  subject  is  the  same  tnat  forms  the  lower 
and  principal  picture  of  the  Transfiguration ;  but  Domeni- 
chino  has  avoided  all  approach  to  it,  as  completely  as  if  he 
had  never  seen  the  work  of  his  great  predecessor.  The  poor 
possessed  boy, — ^the  touching  agony  expressed  in  his  twisted 
muscles  and  distorted  features, — ^his  upturned  eyes,  his 
gasping  mouth,  his  convulsed  Hmbs,  ana  his  whole  figure, 
struggSng  in  the  arms  of  his  afflicted  father,  perhaps  equal, 
— and,  if  I  may  be  allowed  to  say  so,  surpass — the  iJemoniac 
of  !fiaphael.  In  other  respects,  the  composition  is  less 
learned  and  complicated.  There  are  fewer  figures, — conse- 
quently not  the  same  room  for  the  masterly  variety,  and 
contrast  of  forms,  expression,  and  attitude,  that  excite 
never-ending  admiration,  in  the  crowd  without  confusion 

*  Agrippina  had  a  splendid  villa  here.  Tacitns,  Ann.  lib.  ziv, 
cap.  3. 


Digitized  by 


Google 


852  BOMi. 

that  fills  the  canvas  of  Bapbael.  But  the  few  figures  that 
Domenichino  has  introduceo,  perhaps  possess,  &om  that  rery 
circumstance,  a  deeper  interest,  and  an  expression  that  takes 
more  forcible  hold  on  the  mind.  The  saint,  whose  finger  is 
pressed  on  the  lip  of  the  poor  sufferer,  while  his  other  hand 
reaches  the  sacred  oil  that  is  to  work  the  cure,  is  stnkinglj' 
fine ;  and  the  earnest  attention  of  the  two  little  boys  looking 
on,  is  nature  itself.  But  the  mother  kneeling,  watching  in 
breathless  suspense  the  fate  of  her  child,  as  if  life  hung  upon 
its  gasp, — the  whole  expression,  countenance,  attitude,  and 
drapery  of  this  figure,  are  a  masterpiece  of  perfection,  and 
may  well  stand  a  comparison  with  the  female  in  the  l^^ans- 
figuration. 

The  next  in  merit  of  these  frescos,  is  the  visit  of  the 
emperor  to  this  convent,  and  his  reception  by  St.  Nilus, — 
with  all  the  pomps  of  attendants  and  horses;  a  splendid 
composition,  full  of  spirit  and  life.  In  the  youth  who  is 
retreating  from  an  unruly  horse,  Domenichino  is  said  to 
have  painted  the  portrait  of  the  young  woman  of  Erascati 
with  whom  he  was  in  love,  but  who  was  refused  him  by  her 
parents.  St.  Nilus  is  also  the  portrait  of  one  of  the  monks, 
a  friend  of  Domenichino' s. 

The  next  fresco  represents  a  miracle  which  took  place  at 
the  building  of  the  very  chapel  in  which  we  are  stending. 
We  behold  the  fell  of  a  column  upon  the  afl&ighted  people, 
in  consequence  of  the  ropes  breaking  by  which  the  work- 
men were  raising  it ;  but  it  luckily  happens  that  St.  Bartho- 
lomew is  looking  at  the  plan  of  the  bunding  at  the  moment, 
and,  therefore,  one  of  his  disciples  miraciuously  saves  the 
people's  heads  from  being  broken  by  propping  up  the  falling 
column.  This  is  an  admirable  production,  but  it  is  even 
more  injured  than  the  other. 

Another  fresco,  but  of  somewhat  inferior  merit,  represents 
St.  Bartholomew,  by  his  prayers,  saving  the  harvest  of  his 
convent  from  destruction  by  rain.  Another  seems  to  repre- 
sent the  assembled  monks,  attended  by  a  long  frmeral  train, 
praying  around  the  dead  body  of  St.  Nilus.  In  another, 
and  one  of  the  finest  of  the  whole,  the  Virgin  appears 
surrounded  with  angels  and  seraphim  stooping  from  the 
clouds  to  present  to  the  kneeling  saints  (Nilus  and  Bartho- 


Digitized  by 


Google 


MABnro.  853 

IcMnew)  a  golden  apple.  Of  the  rest,  the  subjects  can  now 
be  scarcely  traced. 

At  Marino — a  pretty  little  town,  most  picturesquely  situ- 
ated on  the  summit  of  a  rocky  hill,  overhanging  a  romantic 
woody  deU — ^we  stopped  to  see  the  churches,  which,  being 
Priday  evening,  were  crowded  with  people.  At  one  of 
them  we  saw — what  I  had  rather  not  have  seen — ^the  Trinity 
by  Guido — in  which  the  Eternal  Father  is  represented  as  a 
stupid-looking  old  man  in  a  red  cloak.  In  the  cathedral 
we  saw  an  injured  but  very  fine  painting  of  Gruercino's  St. 
Bartholomew  ready  to  suffer  Death — ^two  ruffian  execution- 
ers by  his  side.  At  another  altar  there  is  a  painting  of 
considerable  but  inferior  merit,  which  seems  to  be  only  in 
part  his  work.  It  represents  the  martyrdom  of  St.  Barna- 
bas, who  was  roasted  alive,  and  who  is  supposed  throughout 
Italy  to  be  the  great  protector  from  fire.  A  little  penny 
print  of  this  saint  pasted  on  their  cottage-doors,  is  esteemed 
by  the  Italian  peasants  a  far  surer  guarantee  against  the 
injuries  of  the  devouring  element,  than  all  the  stamps  of 
the  fire-insurance  offices  amongst  us. 

Marino,  anciently  Ferentinum,  was  so  called  from  the 
fountain  of  the  Aqua  FerentinaB,  the  source  of  which  is  still 
shown  in  the  Colonna  gardens.  A  ruined  building  in  the 
woods,  which,  unfortunately,  the  closing  day  forbade  us  to 
visit,  we  were  assured,  is  the  remains  of  the  Temple  of 
Ferentina. 

Pursuing  our  way,  we  walked  down  the  steep  hill  into 
the  romantic  dell  below,  the  carriages  following.  At  the 
bottom,  the  bridge  crossing  the  brawling  stream;  the  rocks 
overhanging  it,  shaded  by  drooping  plants ;  the  ruined  ivy- 
covered  Gothic  tower,  rising  far  above  the  deep  thick  woods 
of  oak  and  ilex ;  and  the  bright  verdure  of  the  gay  meadows; 
formed  one  of  the  most  delightful  scenes  I  ever  beheld, — 
admirably  calculated  for  painting.  In  the  foreground  was 
the  road  winding  abruptly  round,  and  at  one  comer,  a 
fountain  and  large  peservou*,  at  which  the  country  women, 
in  the  most  picturesque  dresses  imaginable,  were  washing 
and  beating  their  clothes,  talking  and  laughing  with  a 
hilarity  that  was  Cfoite  new  to  us,  after  bemg  so  many 
months  shut  up  with  the  sombre  Eomans.    We  proceeded 

VOL.  II.  2  A. 


Digitized  by 


Google 


354  BOMS. 

along  thiB  beautiful  woody  dell,,  with  Monte  Gavo  towermg 
above  us,  till  we  came  at  once  into  full  view  of  the  Lake  of 
Albano,  and  beheld  the  deep  clear  basin  of  its  waters,  the 
bright  verdure  of  its  sloping  banks,  the  rich  foHage  of  the 
chesnut-trees,  contrasting  with  the  dark  Cyprus  and  ilex, 
and  the  glowing  tints  of  the  evening  sky,  which  assumed 
every  varying  hue  as  we  contiaued  to  wina  along  above  the 
lake.  Passing  Castel  Gandolfo,  the  summer  residence  of 
the  Pope,  we  entered  Albano  by  an  avenue  of  noble  ilex 
trees,,  two  miles  in  length. 


Digitized  by 


Google 


I:  ■  .   -\ 


Digitized  by 


Google 


Digitized  by 


Google 


THE  ALBAir  LAKE.  355 


LETTEE  XCn. 

AlTTIQXTITIES    OP    AlBAJ^O  —  ThB     EmISSABITTH     OF     THE 

Alban  Lake — The  Nymphjeum  of  Domitiaw — ^Eijlns 
OF  Domitian's  Villa — Tomb  of  Ascaniijs — Tomb  of 
Pompet — ^Alba  Lokga — ^ANTEDiLimAir  Vases. 

These  is  no  antiquity  in  the  world  more  remarkable  than 
the  great  Emissarium,  or  outlet  of  the  Alban  Lake..  It 
was  made  nearly  four  hundred  years  before  the  Christian 
era,  when  Eome  was  an  infant  state.  It  is  a  tunnel  a  mile 
and  a  half  in  length,  bored  through  the  mountain  of  Albano, 
for  the  most  part  through  the  solid  rock,  and  built  of  solid 
mason-work.  It  was  done  to  carry  off  the  waters  of  the 
lake,  which,  without  any  apparent  cause,  had  suddenly  over- 
flowed their  banks,  and  then  risen  to  such  a  height  as  to 
threaten  Eome  itself,  and  the  whole  plain  of  Latiimi,  with 
inundation.  This  happened  during  the  long-protracted  siege 
of  Veii.  Messengers  were  sent  to  consult  the  Delphic 
oracle,  who  brought  back  for  answer,  that  Eome  would 
never  be  safe,  nor  Veii  taken,  till  the  waters  of  the  Alban 
Lake  were  made  to  flow  to  the  sea.  A  Veian  prophet  and 
prisoner  had  previously  announced  the  same  fiat.  Inspired 
at  once  by  fear  and  hope,  this  wonderful  work,  which 
seemed  to  require  a  degree  of  skill  and  science  far  beyond 
that  early  age,  was,  in  the  same  year,  begun  and  ended ; 
and  so  executed,  that  it  would  shame  this  degenerate  age. 
After  a  lapse  of  twenty-two  centuries,  we  find  it  still  answer- 
ing its  original  purpose,  as  if  only  built  yesterday,  and 
behold  the  waters  or  the  Alban  Lake  still  flowing  through 
it,  as  they  did  in  the  days  of  Camillus.  The  channel  is  six 
feet  in  height,  by  three  and  a  half  in  breadth.  Three  men 
only  could  have  laboured  in  it  once;  and  it  is  calculated 
that  by  three  men  (beginning  at  each  end)  the  most  un- 
remittmg  perseverence  would  not  have  brought  it  to  a 
conclusion  during  at  least  three  years.   How  it  was  finished 

2  A  2 


Digitized  by 


Google 


856  BOMX. 

in  one,  is  the  question.  Piranesi  supposes  that  thej  bored 
pits  in  several  places  through  the  mountain,  down  to  the 
proper  level,  ancl  let  men  down  to  continue  the  works,  just 
as  tunnels  are  excavated  at  the  present  time;  and  it  is 
curious  to  think,  if  such  was  the  case,  that  the  ancient 
Eoman  (or  more  properly  Etruscan)  system  of  engineering 
should  have  descended  down  to  us,  even  to  the  present  day. 
Be  this  as  it  may,  we  cannot  otherwise  now  understand  the 
rapidity  with  wliich  it  was  executed;  we  can  only  admire 
the  perfection  and  durability  of  this  grand  piece  of  architec- 
ture, which  is,  perhaps,  without  exception,  the  most  ancient 
and  the  most  noble  work  of  Eoman  tunes.  The  arch,  which 
is  still  standing  here,  must  convince  the  most  sceptical,  that 
the  structure  of  the  arch  was  known  to  the  Bomans  at  least 
four  hundred  years  before  the  Christian  era,  and  three  hun- 
dred before  the  epoch  at  which  certain  connoisseurs  have 
fixed  its  introduction.  But  if  they  shall  still  maintain  that 
the  polished  Greeks,  even  while  they  raised  those  magnifi- 
cent buildings  that  have  been  the  sole  models  to  succeeding 
ages  and  nations,  were  ignorant  of  this — one  of  the  first 
principles  of  architecture ; — ^if  they  shall  still  maintain,  that, 
though  practised  during  so  many  centuries  by  their*  rude 
neighbours,  the  Etruscans  and  Komans  (with  whom,  too, 
they  held  constant  intercourse),  it  was  unknown  to  them, 
I  shall  certainly  leave  them  in  undisputed  possession  of 
their  paradox. 

In  front  of  the  channel  of  the  Emissarium  is  an  open 
chamber,  or  vestibule, — ^if  I  may  call  it  so, — ^which  is  in 
some  degree  ruined ;  and  the  machines,  works,  &c.,  that 
were  attached  to  it  for  relating  the  flow  of  water,  as  well 
as  those  for  the  takine  of  fish,  have,  of  course,  long  since 
vanished.  On  one  si<k  of  the  arch  of  the  Emissarium,  from 
amongst  the  immense  blocks  of  stone  which  form  the 
massive  walls,  an  ilex  tree — ^the  largest  I  ever  beheld,  that 
almost  seems  coeval  with  the  building  itself— has  wreathed 
its  old  fantastic  roots,  and  stretching  ^rth  into  four  immense 
trunks,  spreads  its  broad  honzontal  branches  and  luxuriant 
depth  of  shade  over  the  whcde  court. 

^ot  far  firom  hence,  along  the  shore  of  the  lake,  are  some 
lo%  artificial  cavesy  or  grottos,  hoUowed  out  in  its  rocky, 


Digitized  by 


Google 


I 


GBOTTOS   07  ALBAKO.  357 

precipitous  banks,  called,  by  the  country  people,  the  Bagni 
di  XHuma,  or  Orotto  delle  Ninfe,  which  are  supposed  to  be 
the  remains  of  a  NymphsDum  built  by  Domitian. 

A  soft  green  sward,  spotted  with  magnificent  trees,  gently 
slopes  to  the  margin  of  the  water ;  luxuriant  ivy,  hanging  in 
wreaths  nearly  to  the  ground,  shades  its  mouth,  and  a 
multitude  of  wild  plants  mingle  their  green  pensile  foHage 
from,  the  rocks  above.  The  natural  grandeur  of  this  im- 
mense cavern,  the  vaulted  roof,  the  lofty  arches,  and  long 
withdrawing  recesses,  partially  seen  within  the  deep  shade 
of  its  interior ;  the  sunny  brightness  of  the  rocks  ana  trees, 
and  romantic  banks  without;  the  woody  height  of  Monte 
Cavo  towering  into  the  bright  blue  heavens,  and  reflected  in 
the  (»*ystal  mirror  of  the  lake;  the  verdure  and  stillness 
and  seclusion  that  breathe  around,  fbiin  one  of  the  most 
enchanting  scenes  I  ever  beheld. 

The  ancient  nymphsBa  were  generally  hollowed  out  like 
this  in  the  sides  of  steep  hills,  and  no  place  could  be  more 
happily  chosen  for  this  purpose  than  the  cool  margin  of  the 
Alban  Lake.  I  have  alreaay  noticed  those  delicious  retreats 
of  coolness  and  of  shade,  where  the  luxurious  Eomans,  in 
the  oppressive  heats  of  suinmer,  used  to  recline  on  marble 
-seats,  to  breathe  in  stillness  and  repose,  amidst  their  fresh 
flowing  fountains,  and  to  gaze  on  theur  limpid  basins,  which 
reflected  the  statues  of  the  nymphs  that  were  fabled  to 
haunt  them. 

Virgil  beautifully  describes  them : 

'^  Fronte  sub  adversa  scopulis  pendentibus  antrum ; 
Intus  aquae  dulces,  vivoque  sedilia  saxo ; 
Kympharum  domus."* 

As  the  grottos  on  this  lake,  however,  form,  so  far  as  I 
know,  the  only  undoubted  remains  of  an  ancient  nymphseum 
now  left  in  the  world,  I  shall  give  you  a  more  particular 
account  of  them.*  The  entrance  of  the  principal  grotto  is  a 
widei^and  lofty  arch  of  fine  Eoman  brickwork,  through  which 
the  sunbeams,  playing  amidst  waving  wreaths  of  ivy,  break 

•  Mn.  lib.  i,  ver.  167. 
"t  An  andent  mosaic  picture  of  a  Kymphaeum  was  found  on  the 
Quirinal  Hill,  and  fonnerlj  was  in  the  Barberini  CollectioE.    There  is 
an  engraving  of  it  in  the  Rom.  Ant  torn,  iv^  p.  99d. 


Digitized  by 


Google 


858 


BOILB. 


beautifiiUj  on  the  cavemed  roof.  On  the  left,  on  entering, 
is  a  large  semicircular  recess,  or  alcove ;  on  the  right,  four 
niches  for  statues.  Another  arch,  of  the  same  span  as  the 
entrance,  here  crosses  the  grotto,  and  beyond  it,  on  either 
side,  are  three  niches  for  statues. 

Opposite,  at  the  far  extremity  of  the  grotto,  two  arches 
of  unequal  size  divide  the  breadth  into  two  .alcoves,  op 
recesses ;  the  largest  contains  one  reservoir  which  has  much 
the  appearance  of  a  bath ;  the  other  has  two  smaller  reser- 
voirs, or  baths,  close  to  each  other.  Behind  the  wall  on  the 
left  side,  which  contains  the  alcove  and  the  three  niches 
already  mentioned,  and  between  it  and  the  rock,  a  narrow 
concealed  passage  runs  along,  and  issues  out  in  the  large 
alcove  at  the  farther  extremity  of  the  grotto.  But  a  sketch 
of  the  plan,  however  clumsily  drawn,  wiU  perhaps  give  you  a 
clearer  idea  of  it  than  my  description. 

Larger  Becesa, 


Smaller  Recess. 


Arch  of  Entrance. 

The  channels  for  the  water  to  flow  down  the  rock  into  the 
reservoirs  are  still  distinctly  visible,  and  the  reservoirs  are 


Digitized  by 


Google 


DOMITIASr's  VILLA.  869 

yet  more  than  lialf-filled  with  water.  The  irregularity  of 
their  size  and  that  of  the  whole  plan  is  singular,  and  the  nse 
of  the  concealed  passage  rather  unaccountable.  Perhaps 
the  great  recess  at  the  side  contained  the  statue  of  Diana, 
and  the  ten  niches  the  statues  of  her  nymphs.  I  should 
suppose  this  grotto  to  have  been  a  natimil  one,  but  con- 
Biderably  enlarged  by  art.  There  is  a  smaller  cave  formed 
in  the  rock  on  each  side  of  this,  but  no  remains  of  bmlding 
about  either  of  them.  The  mouth  of  one  of  them  is  so 
choked  up  with  trees  and  wild  bushes,  that  it  is  difficult  to 
discover  it,  and  stiU  more  difficult  to  penetrate  into  it,  which 
we  did,  without  making  any  very  notable  discoveries  in 
reward  for  the  scratches  we  received. 

These  are  by  no  means  the  only  remains  of  the  erections 
of  Domitian  at  Albano.  Among  the  extensive  grounds  of 
the  YiOa  Barberini,  near  the  town,  on  the  hill  above,  are 
scattered  many  vestiges  of  his  magnificent  villa,  which  is 
said  to  have  comprised  the  ViOas  of  Clodius  and  of  Pompey. 
The  most  curious  of  these  are  some  long  ranges  of  a  Crypto 
JPartico,  by  some  thought  a  part  of  Clodius* s  "insane 
structures,"  as  Cicero  calls  them.*  Inunense  conduits  for 
water,  shattered  waUs,  and  other  fragments  of  ancient 
buildiiigs,  are  met  with  here  and  there  overgrown  with  a 

Profusion  of  ivy,  half-lost  in  thickets  of  laurel,  myrtle,  and 
oily, — ^while  ilex-trees,  the  growth  of  centuries,  throw  over 
them  their  impenetrable  depth  of  shade. 

The  view  from  the  terrace  of  this  villa,  which  is  supported 
on  these  ancient  arches  and  substructions  of  Domitian' s 
(perhaps,  too,  Clodius' s)  Villa,  is  in  the  highest  degree 
striking  and  beautiful ;  but  I  resist  the  temptation  of  de- 
scribing it,  although  the  Mils,  the  plains,  the  shores,  were 

*  "Insanis  molibus  oppresserat." — Oic.  pro  T.  Ann,  MUone.  It  was 
impossible,  amidst  these  hills  and  "  sacred  groves/'  not  to  remember 
Cicero's  beautifal  invocation  to  them,  towards  the  close  of  the  above 
unparalleled  oration,  or  to  raise  our  eyes  to  the  majestic  summit  of  that 
lofty  mount,  without  being  tempted  to  exclaim  with  him, — "  Tuque  ex 
tuo  edito  monte,  Latialis  sancte  Jupiter,  cujus  ille  lacus,  nemora, 
finesque,"  &c. 

At  a  place  called  Le  Fratocchie,  formerly  Bovillee,  near  the  base  of 
the  Alban  Mount,  the  murder  of  Clodius  by  Milo  is  supposed  to  have 
taken  place. 


Digitized  by 


Google 


360  BOlfE. 

replete  with  a  thousand  classic  remembrances ;  and  far  over 
the  blue  waters  of  the  Mediterranean,  which  bathes  the  long 
line  of  coast,  my  eye  was  caught  by  the  Island  of  Ponza,  the 
ancient  abode  of  illustrious  IU)man  exiles. 

At  the  Convent  of  St.  Paul,  are  some  walls  built  of  large 
square  blocks  of  stone,  supposed  to  have  formed  part  of 
Domitian*s  PrsBtorian  Camp;  and  in  the  gardens  of  the 
convent  are  some  ruins  of  an  amphitheatre. 

In  a  vineyard,  called,  I  think,  the  Vigna  Marzellif  for- 
merly belonging  to  the  Jesuits,  are  some  trifling  remains  of 
an  aqueduct,  and  of  a  building  called  the  Tomb  of  Tullia. 

The  ruins  called  the  Celle  3fo;e,. obviously  Gella  Moffni— 
or  halls  of  the  Great  [Pompey],  must  have  Deen  remains  of 
his  villa. 

We  also  observed  a  church  which  seems  to  have  been 
an  ancient  circular  building — probably  the  Eotunda  to  some 
Thermae. 

At  either  end  of  the  tovm  of  Albano,  an  ancient  tomb 
excites  the  attention  of  the  traveller.  That  which  stands  a 
little  on  the  left  of  the  road,  on  entering  Albano  fix)mEome, 
is  a  high  pyramidal  structure,  once  covered  with  marble  and 
adorned  with  three  orders  of  marble  columns,  but  now 
entirely  despoiled :  it  is  called  the  Tomb  of  Ascanius.  The 
other,  at  the  southern  extremity  of  -the  tovm,  and  on  the 
road  to  Naples,  is  a  square  edifice  of  immense  soHdity,  built 
of  large  blocks  of  stone,  and  crovnied  with  five  small  pyra- 
mids, of  which  two  only  are  now  entire.  This  is  called  the 
Tomb  of  the  Horatii  and  Curiatii,  the  ^ye  pyramids  being 
thought  to  commemorate  the  five  slaughtered  combatants; 
and  accordingly  an  inscription,  placed  upon  it  by  a  modem 
Eoman  family,  asserts  tiie  facH  But  Livy  tells  us,  the 
scene  of  that  memorable  combat  was  at  the  Mssa  Ohdlia^ 
the  spot  where  Hannibal  afterwards  encamped,  supposed  to 
be  on  the  Yia  Latina,  beside  the  reputed  temple  of  Fortuna 
MuMebris;  and  certainly  vdthin  five  miles  of  Home;*  and 
as  the  five  fallen  combatants  were  interred  on  the  field  of 
battle,  it  is  vain  to  look  for  their  tomb  here. 

By  others,  this  sepulchre  is  denominated  the  Tomb  of 

^  lAvjy  lib.  i,  c.  23 ;  lib.  ii,  c.  89.  Liyy  also  states  that  Haimibal 
afterwards  encamped  upon  the  same  spot. 


y  Google 


CITY  07  AI.B1.  LOlfTGA.  861 

V 

Pbmpey,  whose  ashes,  according  to  Plutarch,  were  brought 
from  Egypt  by  Cornelia.  According  to  Pliny,  Strabo,  and 
many  ancient  authors,  he  was  buried  at  Moimt  Casius,  in 
Egypt.*  According  to  a  third  supposition,  it  is  a  cenotaph 
erected  to  his  memory ;  and,  in  either  case,  the  five  pyra- 
mids are  supposed  to  commemorate  the  five  victories  he 
gained  before  his  first  consulship.  Plutarch  also  tells  us, 
that  the  family  mausoleum  of  Pompey  was  at  Alba  Longa, 
but  we  have  no  reason  to  imagine  tms  to  be  it.  The  fact  is, 
that  this  ancient  sepulchre,  as  well  as  *  the  Tomb  of  Asca- 
nius,'  is  unknown,  and  busy  conjecture  has  supplied  the 
place  of  history. 

According  to  Dionysius  Halicamassus,  th6  ancient  city  of 
Alba  Longa  was  between  the  Alban  Mount  and  the  sea. 
Any  of  the  antiquaries  will  show  you  the  exact  site,  and  you 
may  choose  out  of  the  variety  you  will  see,  if  you  apply  to 
them  all.     There  is  not,  of  course,  a  single  vestige  of  it, 

A  great  deal  of  noise  was  made  about  some  cinerary  urns 
of  terra-cotta,  which  were  dug  up  near  Castel  Grandolfo,  and 
which  we  were  gravely  assured  last  winter,  were  antedilu- 
vian, and  had  been  deposited  in  that  spot  before  the 
Peluge!  Several  treatises  of  great  length  and  learning 
were  written  to  prove  this,  and  it  was  established  in  the 
most  satisfactory  manner,  till  suddenly,  to  the  confusion 
of  the  antediluvians,  they  proved  to  be  Gothic!  Some 
foreigners  (in  their  right  senses)  brought  indisputable 
evidence  of  urns,  so  precisely  similar,  having  been  found  in 
Prussia,  and  various  parts  of  G-ermany,  in  Sweden,  Den- 
mark, and  England,  that  even  the  antediluvians  were  com- 
pelled to  admit  the  truth.  What  can  we  think  of  the 
sanity  of  a  set  of  archeological  Academicians,  that  gravely 
pronounced  some  clay  urns  to  be  antediluvian ! 

I  ought  to  have  told  you  that  this  notion  was  put  into 
their  heads,  in  consequence  of  finding  the  urns,  as  was 
pretended,  under  a  stratum  of  tufo.  If  this  was  true,  the 
stone  might  have  been  subsequently  formed  without  being 
antediluvian.  Modern  geological  discoveries  prove  not  only 
the  possibility,  but  frequency  of  such  formations. 

*  Pliny,  lib.  xii. 


Digitized  by 


Google 


BOMJS. 


LETTER  XCin. 

Ascent  of  the  Albait  Mouttt — Camp  of  HANismsAL — 
Tbiumphal  Wat — Convent  ,or  Feiaes — ^Yolcanos — 
Lake  of  Nemi — Aeicia — Civita  Layinia — Coea — 
Temple  of  Heectjles — Cyclopean  Walls. 

If  I  could,  by  description,  convey  to  you  any  part  of  the 
pleasure  I  myself  enjoyed  in  our  expedition  to  the  top  of 
Monte  Cavo,  I  would  give  it  to  you  at  large ;  but  as  mere 
words  can  never  paint  the  varied  beauty  of  such  scenery,  I 
shall  be  as  sparing  of  them  as  possible. 

After  breakfast;  on  a  beautiful  May  morning,  at  the  door 
of  the  inn  we  mounted  our  donkeys,  which  carried  us  all 
with  great  ease  and  safety,  although  the  long  legs  of  some  of 
the  gentlemen  neariy  touched  the  ground.  We  passed  the 
Capuchin  convent,  the  terrace  of  which — ^forbidden  to  women 
— commands  a  most  beautiful  prospect,  and  then,  turning 
along  the  banks  of  the  lake,  wound  through  magnificent 
woods  and  thick  copses  of  oak,  chesnut,  and  hazel,  looking 
down  into  the  deep  crystal  basin  below,  and  above  to  the 
towering  summit  of  the  classic  mountain,  whose  sylvan  sides 
we  were  ascending.  I  observed  some  ancient  broken  con- 
duits for  water  here  and  there  in  the  ground  on  our  right. 
Amidst  the  trees  appeared  a  rustic  chapel  to  the  Madonna. 
She  is  called  La  Madonna  del  Tufo^  because  she  was  found 
under  the  tufo  or  soft  volcanic  stone.  Like  the  vases,  I 
wonder  they  did  not  make  her  out  to  be  an  antediluvian 
Madonna.  But  she  is  a  very  miraculous  Madonna;  and  I 
am  assured  the  day  never  passes  without  her  working  some 
miracle,  more  especially  in  the  curing  of  cows,  for  which  she 
is  highly  famed.  We  soon  passed  Palazzuola  (the  most 
favourite  site  for  Alba  Longa),  which  is  now  a  villa  of  the 


Digitized  by 


Google 


MOKTE   OAVO  363 

Coloniia  family,  with  anotliep  convent  of  Franciscans  attached 
to  it.  Near  it,  by  the  road-side,  are  some  immense  caverns, 
supported  by  pillars  of  rock,  said  be  natural,  but  evidently 
much  enlarged  by  art.  The  wide  arches  of  the  rocky  roof, 
the  long  perspective  of  the  interior,  indistinctly  seen  in  dis- 
tance, dividing  into  remote  passages  and  crossing  arches,  had 
a  singularly  fine  effect  beneath  the  hanging  rocks  and  ancient 
trees  that  bend  over  them.  The  country  people  call  them 
the  Grottos  of  Ascanius,  and  a  tomb,  a  httle  farther  along, 
they  call  the  Tomb  of  Ascanius,  not  satisfied  with  the  one 
he  has  already  got  possession  of  at  Albano.  But  as  As- 
canius was  not  a  Boman  consul,  and  as  this  tomb  has  twelve 
consular  fasces,  with  the  axes,  it  must  have  been  the  tomb 
of  a  consul,  and  consequently  not  his.  It  has  also  a  Eoman 
eagle  and  a  globe  resting  on  a  sceptre,  sculptured  upon  it, 
so  that  it  would  seem  to  have  been  the  tomb  of  an  emperor. 
Some,  however,  think  that  it  was  an  habitation  for  the  living, 
not  for  the  dead  ;  a  part  of  the  Consular  House,  where  the 
Boman  consuls  slept  during  the  celebration  of  the  Ferice 
LatifKP,  which  the  deputies  of  forty-seven  cities  attended. 
This  solemnity,  in  latter  times,  lasted  four  days ;  and  if  any 
informality  or  omission  had  taken  place  in  the  ceremony, 
the  whole  was  recommenced  JS-om  the  beginning.  The 
principal  magistrates  of  all  the  cities  of  Latium  assembled 
lor  this  purpose,  and,  led  by  the  Boman  consul,  ascended  in 
solemn  procession  to  the  Temple  of  Jupiter  Latialis,  where 
they  offered  the  sacrifice  of  an  ox,  of  which  every  one 
carried  away  a  portion.  States  at  war  with  each  other 
desisted  from  hostilities  during  this  holy  "truce  of  Grod;" 
and  every  treaty  or  engagement  was  here  solemnly  ratified 
in  the  sacred  presence  of  their  Supreme  Deity. 

StiU  ascendmg  through  the  woods,  we  at  length  emerged 
from  them  at  the  village  of  Bocca  di  Papa,  anciently  Forum 
iPoptdi,  which  hangs  over  the  lake  on  a  steep  shelving  ledge 
of  bare  rock  that  terminates  in  a  fine  point,  crowned  with 
tufted  ilex.  We  scrambled  through  this  almost  perpendi- 
cular village,  on  our  feet,  the  poor  asses  being  here  scarcely 
able  to  pull  themselves  up,  and  were  much  pleased  with  the 
appearance  of  the  people,  who  seem  a  much  hardier,  more 
industrious  and  contented  race  than  those  of  the  plain. 


Digitized  by 


Google 


364  BOMS, 

The  women,  decently  and  most  picturesquely  dresised,  were 
sitting  twirling  the  spindle  at  their  ootta^doors;  and, 
strange  to  tell,  they  did  not  beg  I  The  children,  too,  had 
genendly  shoes  and  stockings ;  a  change  I  had  also  obseired 
at  Prascati  and  Albano. 

The  soil  green  sloping  lawns  above  the  village,  which  we 
next  passed  through,  are  called  I  Fruti  d*  Annibale;  and 
the  tradition  is  still  told,  that  the  Carthaginian  pitched  his 
camp  here,  and  looked  down  upon  the  city  he  meant  to 
suboue.  There  is  nothing  improbable  in  the  tale ;  for,  from. 
the  account  Livy  gives  of  Hannibal's  route,  both  on  his 
way  fix)m  Campania,  when  he  vainly  summoned  Tusculum 
to  surrender,  and  back  again,  after  his  unsuccessM  bravado 
at  the  gates  of  Eome,  it  is  plaiQ  he  passed  over  these  lulls.* 
Previous  to  this,  on  his  way  to  Capua,  inmediately  after  the 
fatal  battle  of  CanmB,  it  would  seem  he  made  a  halt  upon 
the  mountains  near  Eome.t 

We  now  began  to  ascend  the  last  and  steepest  part  of  the 
mountain,  through  thick  woods  of  chesnut,  and  soon  joined 
the  ancient  Via  Triumphalis,  which  is  paved  in  the  usual 
way  with  large  irregular  shaped  stones  closely  fitted  to- 
gether, and  forming  a  flat  surface.  It  has  the  letters  Y  and 
N  in  many  places  still  engraved  upon  it.  The  road  is  in 
high  preservation,  about  the  same  breadth  as  the  streets  of 
Pompeii,  and  like  them  marked  with  the  wheels  of  the  cars 
or  carriages.  In  this  case,  however,  it  could  not  be  the 
track  of  the  triumphal  cars,  for  the  lesser  triumph  only,  the 
ovation,  was  celebrated  here,  when  the  victor  walked  on 
foot.  Pope  Alexander  VII,  indeed,  was  drawn  up  it  in 
triumph  in  a  carriaige ! 

The  summit  of  the  mountain  is  covered  with  soft  green 
turf,  perhaps  one-fourth  of  a  mile  in  circumference,  the 
centa'e  of  which  is  occupied,  not  by  the  proud  temple  of 
Jupiter  Latialis,  but  by  a  convent  of  Passionist  Friars, 
built  on  its  substructions ;  and  some  large  blocks  of  stone, 
which  form  the  only  remains  of  it,  are  set  up  to  form  a 
slovenly  fence  for  their  weed-covered  garden,  which  they  are 

*  Livy,  lit),  xxvi,  cap.  It). 

t  "In  propinquis  urbis  montlbus  moratus  est" — Com.  Nepos,  in 
Hannibal. 


Digitized  by 


Google 


HISTOBIO   BGEHTEUr,  865 

too  lazy  even  to  cultivate.  These  good  fathers  were,  luckily 
for  us,  at  dinner  when  we  arrived,  and  weU  knowing  we 
should  obtain  no  admittance  with  their  consent,  we  stole  in 
at  the  open  door,  and  proceeded  straight  up  to  the  very  top 
of  the  convent,  from  whence  we  enjoyed  one  of  the  most 
beautiM,  extended,  and  classic  prospects  in  the  worid.  All 
Latium  lay  like  a  map  beneath  our  feet ;  the  regions  far  to 
the  south,  which,  in  returning  from  Naples,  we  had  seemed 
to  leave  behind  for  ever,  were  once  more  revealed  to  our 
view.  From  the  rocky  cliffs  of  Anxur  washed  by  the  waves, 
where  fancr^,  even  at  this  distance,  almost  seemed  to  give  to 
our  sight  the  ruined  temples  we  had  visited  on  its  height ; 
along  the  low  marshy  waste  of  the  Pontine  Marshes, 
bounded  on  one  side  by  the  range  of  the  Yolscian  Hills, 
on  the  other  by  the  blue  line  of  the  Mediterranean,  whose 
waters  encircled  the  lofty  promontory  of  Circe,  and  bathed 
the  depopulated  walls  of  Antium,  Lavinium,  and  Lauren- 
tium;  we  gazed  upon  towns  and  villages,  and  mountains, 
&med  in  early  history  and  in  classic  song ;  upon  the  very 
field  of  all  the  battles  in  the  iEneid,  where  Tumus  and 
^neas  had  fought,  and 

"  The  Bwift  Camilla  Bcoured  along  the  plain  ;'^ 

— ^upon  the  ancient  Tiber,  winding  its  silent  course  through 
the  deserted  Campagna,  and  encircling,  in  a  last  embrace, 
the  Insula  Sacra,  Defore  its  waters  mingled  with  the  ocean ; 
— upon  Eome,  with  the  stupendous  ruins  of  the  Colosseum, 
and  the  proud  dome  of  St.  Peter's; — ^upon  the  northern 
heights  of  Mount  Ciminus  and  Soracte,  that  seemed  to  shut 
us  from  the  land  of  our  birth ; — ^and  upon  the  range  of  the 
Sabine  EiUs,  and  the  lofty  summits  of  the  Apennines,  that 
in  proud  and  embattled  grandeur  rose  up  into  the  heavens, 
as  if  to  fence  in  the  classic  plains  of  Italy.  The  very  spot 
on  which  we  stood,  at  the  summit  of  the  mountain,  was  the 
same  from  whence  Juno  surveyed  the  two  contending 
armies,  previous  to  the  last  combat  of  the  -Slneid,  and 
addressed  her  angry  complaints  to  Jutuma,  the  goddess 
of  the  lake  below,  the  transformed  sister  of  the  msfartii- 
nate  l\imus. 


Digitized  by 


Google 


866  BOMS. 

At  Juno,  e  summo,  qui  nunc  Albanus  babetnr, 

Turn  neque  nomen  erat,  nee  honos  aut  gloria  monti* 

Prospiciens  tumulo,  campum  adspectabat,  et  ambas 

Laurentum  TroUmque  acies,  urbemque  Latini. 

Eztemplo  Tumi  sic  est  affata  sororem, 

Dira  deam,  stagnis  quae,  fluminibusque  fiororis, 

Pnesidety  Ac.  &c.  Ms.  lib.  zii,  y.  134. 

"We  were  disturbed  from  the  enjoyment  of  tracing,  in  this 
delightful  prospect,  a  thousand  spots  which  our  early  studies 
had  made  almost  as  interesting  to  us  as  the  very  recollec- 
tions of  our  childhood,  by  the  approach  of  the  fat  old  friars, 
who  came  puffing  and  blowing  up  the  stairs,  in  grievous 
horror  and  perturbation,  caused  by  hearing  of  our  daring 
profanation  of  their  holy  j^remises,  and  who,  at  the  sight  of 
a  party  of  young  ladies,  in  actual  possession  of  the  very 
heights  of  the  convent,  commenced  an  outcry  such  as  it  was 
hardly  possible  to  hear  with  gravity.  Doubtless  their  rage 
and  despair  were  exceedingly  increased  by  the  thought  of 
the  smoking  viands  they  had  left  in  the  refectory  below. 
They  are  a  convent  of  renitents ;  and,  to  judge  from  their 
appearance,  eating  and  drinking  must  be  to  them  a  great 
penance,  and  one  they  practise  most  rigorously,  for  they 
are  twelve  as  fat  Iriars  as  ever  wore  a  cowl, — ^more  especially 
the  one  whose  superior  authority  was  denoted  by  his  supe- 
rior corpulency,  and  who  continued  to  vociferate  in  alternate 
tones  of  anger,  lamentation,  menace,  and  supplication,  his 
desire  for  us  to  depart.  At  last  we  did  so,  and  our  parting 
donation,  I  believe,  almost  reconciled  them  to  our  trespass. 

It  is  impossible  to  look  down  from  this  height,  into  the 
basin  of  the  Alban  Lake,  deep  sunk  within  its  high  and 
shelving  banks,  without  feeling  impressed  with  the  popular 
behef  that  it  has  once  been  the  crater  of  a  volcano.  Its 
form  is  circular,  its  circumference  is  not  more  than  five 
miles  ;  and  the  hiUs,  the  rocks,  the  plains,  the  very  crust  of 
the  earth  all  around,  are  so  evidently  composed  of  volcanic 
matter,  that  this  conviction  is  irresistibly  impressed  on  our 
minds.  The  Frati  d'  Armiffale, — the  green  meadows  where 
Hannibal  was  encamped, — are  generally  thought  to  have 
been  the  last  mouth  oi  the  flaming  volcano ;  and  all  around 


Digitized  by 


Google 


LAKE  07  ITEMI.  367 

the  village  of  Eocca  di  Papa,  we  observed  great  masses  of 
lava,  and  other  volcanic  stones,  precisely  similar  to  many  of 
the  specimens  we  brought  from  Mount  Vesuvius.  It  is 
curious,  if  this  spot  was  once  the  reservoir  of  fire,  that  it  is 
aiow  that  of  snow.  Home  is  supplied  with  ice  from  hence, 
and  it  is  kept  here  in  pits  of  fifty  feet  in  depth,  with  a  drain 
at  the  bottom. 

The  beautiful  little  Lake  of  Nemi,  a  few  miles  further  to 
the  south,  which  we  had  visited  on  the  road  to  Naples,  by 
all  the  vulgar,  and  most  of  the  scientific,  is  believed  to  have 
been  once  a  crater.  It  is  still  smaller  in  circumference — 
stiU  more  deeply  sunk  in  woody  banks  than  that  of  Albano. 
So  deep,  indeed,  is  the  gulf,  and  so  small  the  aperture,  that 
it  is  said  even  the  stormy  winds  have  no  power  to  ruffle  its 
calm  basin,  and  the  poets,  therefore,  caUed  it  the  Speculum 
Dtams.  Near  this  beautiful  looking-glass,  the  goddess  had 
her  celebrated  temple.  The  high  priest  was  called  Bex 
Nemcyrensis,  and  was  always  a  fugitive  slave,  who  had  ob- 
tained his  office  by  killing  his  predecessor  in  single  combat, 
and  who  held  it  by  the  tenure  of  fighting  all  the  candidates 
that  aspired  to  it.  The  Capuchm  convent  here,  which 
commands  one  of  the  most  heavenly  prospects  I  ever  beheld, 
is  supposed  to  stand  on  the  hiU  and  grove  of  Yirbius.*  An 
ancient  circidar  tower,  one  hundred  and  twenty  feet  in 
height,  called  the  Torre  di  Diana,  built  on  a  rock  projecting 
over  the  lake,  has  a  strikingly  picturesque  effect,  and  the 
old  castle  of  the  Duca  di  Braschi  beneath  it  is  the  very 
scene  for  a  story  of  romance. 

An  ancient  Eoman  ship  was  found  under  water  in  this 
lake,  in  the  fifteenth  century,  which  is  called  by  Di  Marchi, 

*  Where,  after  Hippolytus  had  been  mardered  an^  brought  back 
to  life, — 

"  Peeoniis  revocatum  herbis,  et  amore  DianaB," 
and  Father  Jupiter,  in,  a  passion,   had  sent  old   iEsculapius  to  the 
Stygian  waves  for  his  pains,  he  was  concealed  by  Diana — 

"  At  Trivia  Hippolytum  secretis  alma  recondit 
Sedibus,  et  nymphes  Egeriae  nemorique  relegat; 
Solus  ubi  in  silvis  Italis  ignobilis  sevum 
Exigeret,  versoque  ubi  nomine  Yirbius  esset." 

Ms,  lib.  vii,  v.  774. 


Digitized  by 


Google 


868  BOME. 

'  the  bark  of  Trajan,'  though  the  leaden  pipes  were  inseribed 
-with  the  name  of  Tiberius.  It  is  minutely  described  by 
Pope  Pius  II.,  in  the  seeond  book  of  his  Commentaries.  It 
seems  to. have,  been  a  sort  of  floating  summer  vOla  for  the 
Emperor,  and  to  have  been  fitted  up  with  astonishing  splen^ 
dour;  yet  still  it  did  not  approach  to  the  immensity  and 
magnincence  of  the  bark  of  Hiero  of  Syracuse,  which  con- 
tained haUs  paved  with  mosaic,  baths,  theatres,  and  temples ; 
nay,  even  gardens  and  aqueducts. 

Upon  the  Lake  of  Nemi  is  the  pretty  li^le  town  of  Glen- 
sano,  the  name  of  which  far-fetching  .etymologists  derive 
from  Ckfnthianum,*  or  the  fane  of  Cynthia.  Between  G-en- 
sano  and  Albano  is  La  Poiocia,  or  Aricia,  where  Horace  slept 
•the  first  night,  of  his  journey  to  Brundusium.  The  Yia 
Appia,  which  crosses  the  vaUev  below  the  town,  is  supported 
by  an  immenfle  mole,  with  arcUes;  a  truly  Eosian  work,  and 
well  worth  seeing,  although  it  is  generally  passed  unnoticed. 
It  is  necessary  to  descend  into  the  valley  in  order  to  have 
a  good  view  of  it^  for  from  above,  it  ia  so  overgrown  with 
wild  plants,  that  nothing  is  disceimible,  andTOu  may  travel 
along  it  without  discovering  it.  This  beautiSil  valley,-r-the 
Vhr  Aricia,  is  the  far-famed  spot  where  the  nymph  Egeria 
retired  to  mourn  for  Numa,  and  where,  changed  into  a 
fountain,  her  niuriniirs  still  teU  to  the  woods  her  grief. 
The  fountain  of  Egeria,  or  Fonts  Gendo,  a.8  itjis  now  cdled, 
rushes  forth  such  a  powerful  and  impetuous  torrent,  that  it 
immediately  turns. mills.. 

From  La  Eiccia  we  made  an,  excursion, to  Ciyita  Lavuu% 
the  Lanuvium  of  republican  days,  and  passed  on  the  right 
the  riiins  of  the  famous  Temple  of  Juno  Lamuvina,  or 
Argiya ;  so  at  least  it  was  conjectured,  because  the  statue 
of  the  goddess  was  found  here,  whose  rites  were  celebrated 
with  almost,  as  much  secrecy  as  those  of  the  Bona  Dea,  or 
the  Eleusinian  mysteries.  We  were,  however,  assiired  that 
these  ruins  were  a  part  of  the  Palace  of  Evander !  At 
Civita  Lavinia  we  saw  a  ring,  to  which  we  were  gravely 
informed  that  iElneas  had  moored  his  ship!    But  the  La- 

*  Corrupted  into  Gensanum,  OeMano.  It  may  be  ©beerved  that 
nearly  all  the  Italian  nouns,  whether  proper  or  common,  are  taken  from 
the  ablative  of  the  Latin  noon. 


Digitized  by 


Google 


ed  by  Google 


r: 


Digitized  by 


Google 


TISIT  TO  GOBI.  869 

viiiium  of  ^neas  is  supposed  by  the  learned  to  have  been 
at  a  place  now  called  Santa  PetroniUa,  about  eight  nules 
north  of  Nettuno,  (the  ancient  Antium,)  at  the  source  of 
the  Numicus, — or  what  they  call  the  Numicus,  which  runs 
into  the  sea  after  a  course  of  three  miles.  We  saw  some 
ancient  Cyclopean  walls  at  Civita  Lavinia ;  but  the  Cyclopean 
walls  at  Cora  are  far  more  perfect  and  entire.  In  our 
journey  to  Naples,  we  made  an  excursion  from  Velletri,* 
oyer  the  Volscian  HiUs,  to  that  ancient  city.  Cistema 
would  have  been  a  much  nearer  noint  to  Cora,  but  there 
we  could  not  procure  donkeys ;  ana  our  pilgrimage  of  four- 
and-twenty  mortal  nules  on  the  backs  of  these  slow  animals, 
which  occupied  us  from  the  dawn  of  day  to  the  fall  of 
night,  through  untracked  woods  and  wilds,  was  not  unat- 
tended with  fatigue,  and  eyen  peril ;  these  hills  being  the 
notorious  haunt  of  banditti,  and  Cora  itself  one  of  the 
chief  places  of  their  abode.  Luckily,  however,  we  accom- 
plished it  in  safety,  and  persuaded  ourselves  that  the  sight 
of  its  antiquities  was  a  sufficient  recompense.  The  most 
striking  of  these  are  the  remains  of  the  Temple  of  Hercules. 
The  ancient  Doric  portico,  with  its  whole  entablature,  is 
entire.  It  has  four  Doric  columns  in  front,  which  sustain 
the  simple  and  beautiful  frieze  and  pediment.  Its  archi- 
tecture was  much  admired  by  Baphael,  who  studied  it  with 
great  attention  at  the  time  he  was  employed  in  the  build- 
ing of  St.  Peter's  at  Eome. 

This  beautiM  portico  stands  in  a  singularly  fine  situation, 
upon  a  led^e,  or  platform,  supported  by  an  ancient  wall,  on 
wnich  the  murels  and  cypress,  the  rocks  and  wild-spnngiQg 
aloes,  form  a  fine  foreground.  Even  the  old  tower  of  the 
church,  rising  behind  it,  adds  to  the  picturesque  efiect. 

In  this  church,  we  saw  a  beautiful  Pagan  altar  found 
here,  sculptured  with  rams'  heads  and  wreaths  of  flowers, 

*  At  Velletri  I  was  amused  to  see  how  aH  the  Velletriang,— even  the 
dirty  camerieri  of  onr  beggarly  inn,  piqued  themselves  upon  Augustus 
having  been  a  native  of  Uieir  town , — not  that  this  was  really  the  case, 
for  he  was  only  nursed  there.  Suetonius  (Augustus,  5)  expressly  says, 
that  Augustus  was  bom  at  Rome,  in  the  ward  of  the  Palatium,  at  ^e 
sign  of  the  Oz-heads,  where  an  JSdicola  was  afterwards  dedicated  to 
him.  The  good  people  of  Velletri,  however,  have  actually  got  his  head 
stuck  up  for  a  sign-post  at  a  public-house. 

VOL.   II.  2  B 


Digiti 


ized  by  Google 


370  SOME. 

and  a  noble  ancient  yase,  wbich  seires  for  a  baptismal  font. 
In  the  walls  of  this  church  there  is  a  blocked-up  doorway; 
above  which  I  observed  the  following  inscription : — 

M.  MANLIUS  M.  F LIVR. 

FILIUS  D.  DUOMVIRES 

PASINASUS  ....  ENTB  AEDBM. 

FACIENDAM  COLA  VERUNTE 

lODAMQUE  PROLAXBRA.* 

It  is  curious  that  the  name  of  this  man  should  be  M. 
Manlius,  for  none  of  the  family  of  Manlius  were  ever 
allowed  to  bear  the  name  of  Miircus,  after  the  death  of 
Capitolinus;  and  I  do  not  remember  that  there  was  any 
other  family  of  that  name  of  any  note.  In  another  part  of 
the  town,  and  at  another  church,  are  the  remains  of  the 
Temple  of  Castor  and  Pollux,  which  chiefly  consist  of  two 
noble  Corinthian  columns,  and  a  fragment  of  the  Meze,  on 
which  is  inscribed, — 

M.  CASTORE  POLLUCIDE,  C.  S.  FAC 

M.  CALYIUS.  M  .  .  .  .  P.  N. 

In  the  court  of  a  house  are  two  small  Doric  pillars,  said 
to  have  belonged  to  the  Temple  of  Diana.  But  the  most 
curious  of  the  antiquities  at  Cora  are  the  Cyclopean  Walls, 
of  which  there  are  very  extensive  remains.  They  are  of 
immense  solidity,  at  least  thirty  feet  in  height,  ana  built  of 
enormous  irregular-shaped  stones,  set  up  like  flags,  with 
their  smooth  flat  expanse  outwards,  and  fitted  to  each  other 
with  the  greatest  nicety,  but  without  any  cement.  They 
really  look  as  if  they  had  been  hammered  together  by  the 
labour  of  the  Cyclops.  It  has  been  justly  remarked,  that 
they  most  resemble  the  ancient  pavement  of  the  Via  Appia, 
or  the  streets  of  Pompeii,  set  up  vertically .f 

One  of  the  most  striking  peculiarities  in  these  Cyclopean 
walls — and  one  that,  as  far  as  I  know,  has  never  yet  been 
noticed,  is  that  they  are  built  in  continual  angles,  something 

*  The  marks  in  this  inBcription  I  have  made  to  signify  obliterated 
letters. 

t  Vide  Winkelman  but  rArchitectnre. 


Digitized  by 


Google 


CTCLOPEAir  WALLS.  871 

like  the  creases  of  a  great  Indian  screen,  when  not  mucli 
drawn  out — -in  this  manner — 


There  is  a  very  curious  ancient  bridge,  too,  called  the  Ponte 
di  Catena,  built  in  the  same  Cyclopean  mode  of  construc- 
tion, but,  of  course,  not  in  these  angles.  Yitruvius,  in 
speaking  of  these  very  walls  of  Cora,  calls  this  extraordinary 
style  of  building,  *  antiquum,'  and  *  incertum,'  but  throws  no 
light  upon  its  origin.  *  Dubious'  it  must  still  continue  to 
be.  There  is  no  account  more  satisfactory  in  Winkelman, 
or  any  other  author  of  it ;  and,  excepting  that  it  is  of  the 
highest  antiquity,  nothing  respecting  it  seems  to  be  known. 
One  writer  (Father  Volpi),  attributes  it  to  the  Groths;  but 
more  enlightened  critics  will  recognize  these  Cyclopean 
walls  as  works  of  a  very  ancient  period. 

On  Trajan's  colmnn,  an  ancient  city  is  represented,  with 
walls  of  this  construction ;  and  remams  of  it  are  found  in 
several  parts  of  Greece,  and  in  many  of  the  ancient  towns 
near  Rome,  which,  like  Cora,  boast  a  Greek  origin.  At  the 
ruins  of  a  city  among  the  Volscian  Hills,  about  five  miles 
from  hence,  called  Civita  Penatoria,  and  which  I  believe  was 
anciently  called  Alatri;*  at  Fondi,  in  the  kingdom  of 
Naples,  where  we  also  saw  them  ;  at  Civita  Lavinia,  and  at 
Palestrina,  vestiges  of  them  still  stand. 

Circumstances,  over  which  I  have  no  control,  have  pre- 
vented me  from  visiting  Palestrina,  so  that  I  can  give  you 
no  account  of  the  Cyclopean  walls  there — ^nor  yet  favour 
you  with  my  opinion,  in  addition  to  the  numbers  already 
given,  on  the  subject  of  the  famous  mosaic  of  the  Temple  of 
Fortune,  which  is  preserved  in  a  palace  there,  to  perplex  the 
heads  of  antiquaries  and  cognoscenti.  These  are  misfor- 
tunes which  probably  you  will  not  lament  very  deeply, 
neither  do  I ;  but  Palestrina  was  the  ancient  PrsBneste, — 
therefore  I  should  have  Hked  to  have  seen  it;  though  of 
Praeneste  there  are  now  no  remains.    Even  of  the  celebrated 

*  Alatri  was  one  of  the  five  Satumian  cities.  The  names  of  the 
others  are  Anagni,  Atina^  Arce,  and  Arpino. 

2  B  2 


Digitized  by 


Google 


372  BOM£. 

temple  of  'Hhat  most  fortunate  of  Fortunes,"  as  Cameades 
tlie  Athenian,  from  its  surpassing  magnificence,  called  tlie 
Fortune  of  P^SBneste, — ^there  is  not  now  one  stone  left  upon 
another,  though  the  platform  on  which  it  stood  can  stiU  be 
distinctly  traced. 

At  the  Church  of  La  Madonna  della  ViUa  (so  called  from 
the  ruins  of  a  Eoman  imperial  viUa  on  which  it  was  built), 
in  the  town  of  Falestrina,  I  am  assured  that  considerable 
remains  of  porticos,  halls,  baths,  and  corridors,  can  still  be 
traced.  At  a  place  called  Volmontone,  about  five  miles 
from  the  town,  there  is  a  great  hall  painted  in  fresco,  by 
Ghispar  Foussin,  said  to  be  one  of  his  finest  works.  But  at 
Genezzano,  about  six  miles  from  Falestrina,  there  is  an 
object  much  more  visited, — a  far-famed  miraculous  Madonna 
who,  in  emulation  of  the  renowned  Virgin  of  Loretto,  flew 
there,  all  the  way  fi^m  Albania, — ^not,  however,  bringing 
her  house  along  with  her.  But,  in  other  respects,  her 
exploits,  if  I  had  time  to  narrate  them,  do  by  no  means  flail 
short  of  hers  of  Loretto.  Many  are  the  pilgrims,  among 
whom  may  be  reckoned  crowned  heads  even  of  this  genera- 
tion, who  have  come  from  distant  countries  to  visit  the 
shrine  of  this  flying  Virgin  of  QeneMano.  The  nuts  and 
roses,  for  which  FraBneste  was  £Eunous  in  Eoman  days,  I  am 
.assured  still  abound  there. 


Digitized  by 


Google 


FBASCATI.  373 


LETTEE  XCIY. 
Feascati — Bai^ditti. 

CoH^STEBNATiON  fills  this  little  peaceftil  town.  Yesterday 
evening  Lucien  Bonaparte's  viUa  was  entered  by  a  gang  of 
banditti; — ^but  I  must  tell  you  the  story  in  order  as  it 
happened. 

About  four  in  the  afternoon  Monswnore  (as  the  old  priest 
of  the  fanuly  is  through  courtesy  cafled)  set  out  to  take  his 
accustomed  walk;  and,  unluckily  for  himself,  directed  his 
steps  up  the  hill  to  the  ruins  of  ancient  Tusculum ;  when, 
suddenly,  from  the  bushes  which  shade  the  cavity  of  the 
amphitheatre,  two  armed  robbers  sprung  out,  dragged  him 
among  the  thickets,  where  four  others  were  lying  in  ambush ; 
and  having  stripped  him  of  his  watch,  money,  and  clothes, 
they  tied  his  hands  behind  his  back,  and  gave  him  notice, 
that  the  first  moment  he  attempted  to  speak,  or  make  the 
smallest  noise,  would  be  the  last  of  his  life.  They  kept 
him  prisoner  there  tiU  after  sunset,  when  they  crept  through 
the  wood  to  the  house,  and  made  a  halt  among  the  thick 
laurels  and  shrubs  close  to  it.  In  the  meantime  the  dinner- 
bell  rang,  the  family  sat  down  to  table ;  but  as  MoBsignore 
was  not  to  be  found,  a  servant  was  sent  into  the  pJeasure- 
ground  in  search  of  him,  who  left  the  house-door  unfastened. 
The  banditti  softly  made  their  approaches.  Five  of  them 
entered  unseen  and  unheard,  and  the  sixth  staid  to  guard 
the  door.  Monsignore  seized  this  moment  to  betake  himself 
to  his  heels,  and  gained  a  remote  out-house,  where  he  buried 
himself  overhead  among  straw,  and  was  found  many  hours 
after  more  dead  than  alive. 

In  the  meantime  the  five  robbers,  with  their  fire-arms 
presented,  cautiously  advanced  into  the  house,  but  they 
were  soon  descried  by  the  servants,  whose  shrieks  they 


Digitized  by 


Google 


374  BOMS. 

stilled  in  a  moment  by  the  menace  of  instant  death  if  they 
moved  a  step  or  uttered  a  sound.  One  maid-servant,  how- 
ever, escapea,  and  gave  the  alarm  to  the  party  in  the 
dining-room,  who  all  fled  in  different  directions  to  conceal 
themselves,  excepting  the  imfortunate  secretary,  who  had 
previously  left  the  room  to  inquire  into  the  cause  of  the 
tumult,  and  was  seized,  on  his  way  down  stairs,  by  the 
robbers,  who  mistook  him  for  the  Prince ;  and,  in  spite  of 
his  protestations,  was  carried  off,  together  with  the  head- 
butler,  and  a  poor  facchino*  whom  they  encoimtered  on  the 
grounds,  to  the  mountain  above  Yelletn,  a  distance  of  seven 
miles,  without  stopping. 

This  morning  the  captured ^occAww,  like  another  Eegulus, 
has  been  sent  as  ambassador,  or  charge  d^affavres^  from  the 
banditti  to  the  Prince,  to  propose  terms,  which  are,  to 
deliver  up  their  prisoners  on  the  payment  of  a  ransom  of 
4000  crowns ;  or,  on  the  non-payment  of  it,  within  four-and- 
twenty  hours,  to  shoot  them.  Lucien  Bonaparte  sent  back 
one  half  of  their  demand  in  money,  and  an  order  on  his 
banker  for  the  rest.  The  robbers  sent  back  the  order,  torn 
through  the  middle,  with  a  further  demand  of  4000  crowns, 
in  hard  money,  besides  the  2000  they  had  already  received 
under  pain  of  the  immediate  death  of  their  prisoners.  The 
Prince  received  this  insolent  mandate  in  his  palace  at  Eome, 
where  he  took  refuge  this  morning,  and  has  been  obliged  to 
obey  it. 

I  wonder  the  government  do  not  feel  ashamed  that  such 
outrages  should  be  perpetrated  within  ten  miles  of  Eome, 
and  that  they  should  be  obliged  to  admit  delegates  firom 
banditti  into  the  very  seat  of  government — ^the  capital 
itself.  A  detachment  of  troops,  and  about  two  hundred 
armed  peasants,  levied  by  Lucien  Bonaparte,  are  ready  for 
the  pursuit  of  the  villains,  the  moment  their  captives  are 
released — ^but,  till  then,  they  dare  not  move ;  for  the  eyrie 
on  which  they  have  perched  themselves  commands  a  view  of 
the  whole  country  in  every  direction,  and  they  have  sworn 
to  put  the  prisoners  to  death  the  moment  they  see  the 
approach  of  an  armed  man. 

The  Pope's  soldiers,  indeed,  it  would  seem,  are  not  much 

•  Porter,  or  out-door  labourer. 


Digitized  by 


Google 


BAITDITTI.  375 

to  be  depended  upon  themselves,  for  it  is  not  long  since  the 
guard  from  the  Trinita  de'  Monti,  and  the  Porta  del  Popolo, 
at  Eome,  walked  off  one  fine  moonlight  night,  with  their 
arms  and  accoutrements,  to  the  hills,  and  joined  a  party  of 
banditti. 

It  was  the  intention  of  the  banditti  who  entered  Lucien 
Bonaparte's  villa,  to  have  seized  both  him  and  his  daughter, 
who  had  been  betrothed  that  very  day  to  Prince  Ercolani,  a 
young  Bolognese  nobleman ;  and  haa  they  succeeded,  their 
demands  would  haye  had  no  bounds. 


Frascati,  Nov.  19. 

After  a  captivity  of  two  days  and  a  half,  the  prisoners 
returned,  and  the  troops  ana  armed  peasantry  mstantly 
began  the  pursuit.  The  mountain  on  which  they  were 
stationed,  it  is  said,  was  previously  completely  surrounded 
with  guards,  and  every  part  of  it  has  been  searched, — an 
immense  reward  has  been  offered  for  the  apprehension  even 
of  one  of  them, — but  all  in  vain.  No  traces  of  them  have 
been  discovered ;  and  Lucien  Bonaparte,  in  addition  k)  the 
ransom,  has  had  to  pay  an  immense  sum  to  the  peasantry  he 
hired,  without  the  satisfaction  of  bringing  the  offenders  to 
justice.  > 

The  unfortunate  secretary  has  been  confined  to  bed  ever 
since,  partly  from  the  effects  of  fright,  fatigue,  and  cold,  and 
partly  from  a  wound  he  received  in  his  forehead  in  the 
scuffle,  when  he  was  first  taken  prisoner.  The  captured 
butler,  andi  facchino,  whom  I  have  seen,  say  that  the  robbers 
did  not  treat  them  ill,  and  gave  them  plenty  of  food ;  more, 
indeed,  than  they  could  eat ;  for  it  may  be  supposed  that  in 
such  a  situation  their  appetite  could  not  be  very  keen. 
Neither  could  they  enjoy  much  repose,  surrounded  with 
cocked  carbines.  The  captain  of  those  banditti,  who  was  a 
remarkably  little  man,  used  to  say  to  them,  with  great 
politeness,  "  We  shall  really  be  sorry  to  murder  you,  gen- 
tlemen ;  but  if  the  Prince  does  hot  send  the  money  we  must 
do  it — our  honour  is  engaged." 


Digitized  by 


Google 


376  SOME. 

They  knew,  indeed,  too  well,  he  would  keep  liis  word,  for 
it  is  not  long  since  a  joung  woman  was  earned  off  between 
Yelletri  and  Terracina,  and  the  ransom  they  required  not 
being  paid,  she  was  murdered,  and  her  body  left  on  the 
mountains. 

Nor  is  this  the  only  exploit  of  the  sort  in  this  neighbour- 
hood. A  few  weeks  ago,  a  Soman  gentleman  and  his 
daughters  were  taking  a  walk  after  mass  on  a  Sunday,  close 
to  tne  town  of  Palestrina,  when  a  party  of  banditti  rushed 
upon  them,  and  carried  them  off  to  the  mountains.  The 
poor  old  man,  who  was  asthmatic,  and  unable  to  keep  pace 
with  the  rapidity  of  the  flight,  was  brutally  murdered  before 
the  eyes  of  his  unfortunate  daughters,  whose  ransom  en- 
riched these  monsters  with  the  wealth  of  the  man  they  had 
slain. 

About  two  months  ago,  a  bride,  on  the  day  of  her 
nuptials,  was  carried  off  from  a  villa  near  Albano,  while 
sitting  at  table,  surrounded  by  her  husband  and  relations, 
and  after  passing  a  night  on  the  mountain,  she  was  libe- 
rated, on  the  payment  of  a  heavy  ransom,  without  insult  or 
injury. 


Digitized  by 


Google 


BAITDITTI.  877 


LETTEE  XCV. 

BA3n)ITTI. 

Eome,  Febniary  4th,  1818. 
Tor  haye  been  misinformed  about  our  robbery.  It  is 
true,  that  about  half  an  hour  after  sunset,  and  by  the  light 
of  an  early  moon,  the  carriage  was  stopped  by  a  ferocious 
looking  party  of  brigands,  who,  armed  to  the  teeth,  and  with 
cocked  pistols  held  at  our  heads,  demanded  our  money  or 
our  lives.  But  it  is  not  true  that  thej^  personally  mal- 
treated us.  Our  ears  were  not  cut  off,  neither  were  we  left 
without  any  clothes ;  and  I  must  beg  to  assure  you,  what- 
ever you  may  have  heard  to  the  contrary,  that  we  were  not 
murdered.  Our  assailants,  who  were  four  in  nvimber,  or 
perhaps  more  (but  four  only  appeared),  were,  indeed,  by  no 
means  sparing  in  their  threats  to  put  an  end  to  us,  and 
flourished  then*  glittering  knives,  and  held  their  disagreeable 
pistols  to  our  ears,  with  great  perseverance;  but  this  was 
done  in  order  to  frighten  us  iuto  giving  them  aU  we  had ; 
for  though  I  am  convinced  they  would  have  had  no  more 
scruple  in  kiQiug  us  than  a  butcher  a  sheep,  or  a  sportsman 
a  partridge,  if  they  could  have  got  a  single  ducat  by  it ;  yet, 
as  that  was  not  the  case, — and  as  the  mere  abstract  act  of 
murdering  a  set  of  harmless  people  cannot  afford  any  extra- 
ordinary gratification,  they  granted  my  reiterated  prayer, 

(which  W disdained  to  second,)  to  take  our  money  and 

spare  our  lives ;  and  we  have  good  reason  to  bless  ourselves 
in  escaping  out  of  the  hands  of  these  banditti  with  no  injury 
except  to  our  purses.  Some  gentlemen  of  our  acquaintance 
have  not  been  so  fortunate,  having  been  very  roughly 
handled ;  but  that  I  attribute  entirely  to  their  having  had 
pistols,  and  not  having  had  a  lady  to  plead  for  them,  and 
cajole  the  ruffians  with  her  silvery  tongue.  However,  I 
contrived  to  save  a  bag  of  gold, — the  chief  part  of  the  money 
we  had ;  but  I  was  nearly  murdered  for  diamonds  which  I 

had  not.     Lady ,  whose  carriage  these  banditti  were 

waylaying,  and  expected  they  had  stopped,  was  known  to 


Digitized  by 


Google 


378  ROME. 

have  jewels  of  immese  value,  having  shown  them  impru- 
dently on  the  journey.  Her  ladyship,  however,  unex- 
pectedly stopped  for  the  night  at  the  last  post  on  our 
journey,  where  she  had  vainly  tried  to  induce  us  to  remain 
also,  in  consequence  of  the  alarm  about  banditti ;  and  thus, 
having  been  mistaken  for  her,  I  became  the  victim,  and  was 
very  neariy  shot  for  not  dehvering  up  diamonds  which  I  did 
not  possess.  JSTay,  I  believe  I  should  have  been  shot,  but 
for  an  alarm  we  opportunely  raised  that  the  troops  we  had 
left  behind  at  the  last  post  were  coming  up. 

"We  hear  fresh  accounts  every  day  of  captives  carried  off 
to  the  moimtains  by  the  banditti,  and  the  most  daring  out- 
rages practised  with  impunity.  A  party  of  them  came  down 
the  other  evening  into  the  town  of  Terracina,  took  the  post- 
master out  of  his  own  house,  and  barbarously  murdered  him. 
They  had,  it  seems,  vowed  vengeance  against  him,  on  ac- 
count of  the  steps  he  had  taken  to  bring  them  to  justice. 

A  few  days  ago,  Barbone,  the  noted  chief  who  holds  his 
reign  in  the  woody  fastnesses  of  Monte  Algido,*  in  defiance 
of  the  powers  of  papal  justice,  and  who,  during  four  years, 
has  been  the  terror  of  the  whole  country,  after  performing 
various  recent  achievements  at  the  head  of  his  band,  went 
in  open  day  alone  into  the  town  of  Velletri,  ordered,  and 
ate  an  excellent  dinner  at  the  inn,  drank  the  best  wines, 
walked  about  with  the  utmost  nonchalance,  and  talked  about 
the  very  robberies  he  had  been  committing.  He  was,  how- 
ever, recognized  at  last;  but  strange  to  say,  he  made  his 
escape,  though  slightly  wounded  in  the  leg  by  a  shot. 

The  numerous  bands  of  robbers  which  infest  this  country, 
by  no  means  live  either  upon  their  depredations  on  travel- 
lers, or  the  ransom  of  their  prisoners ;  their  grand  resource 
is  the  plunder  of  the  farmers,  particularly  those  who  live 
among  the  hills,  many  of  whom  are  extremely  rich,  not  only 
in  flocks  and  cattle,  and  such  sort  of  rural  property,  but  in 
money.  The  whole  range  of  Volscian  hiUs,  which  extend 
from  the  Alban  Mount  far  into  the  kingdom  of  Naples,  and 
branch  off  into  various  chains,  stretching  up  to  the  Appen- 
nines,  and  through  the  heart  of  Calabria,  are  all  infested 

*  Anciently  Mount  Algidum,  a  high  and  beautiful  hill  in  the  same 
chain  as  the  Alhan  Mounts  about  twelve  miles  from  Borne. 


Digitized  by 


Google 


IMPBISONED  EOBBEBS.  379 

with  banditti.  The  Frencli  would  allow  no  robbers  but 
themselves,  and  kept  the  country  tolerably  clear  of  them ; 
but  since  they  went  away,  they  have  increased  and  mul- 
tiplied.* 

The  consequence  of  all  the  horrible  outrages  that  have 
been  practised  during  these  nine  months,  has  been,  that  the 
Secretary  of  State  has  gone  in  person  to  Terracina  to  hold  a 
solemn  conference  with  the  brigand  chiefs ;  has  entered  into 
a  formal  treaty  with  them,  complied  with  their  terms,  and 
offered  friendship,  protection,  and  reward,  to  hands  still 
dripping  with  innocent  blood !  In  the  name  of  His  Hoh- 
ness,  a  general  proclamation  has  been  issued,  inviting  all  the 
banditti  to  surrender  themselves,  and  engaging  to  pay  them 
a  certain  sum  per  day,  to  maintain  them  at  the  public 
charge,  and  to  furnish  them  with  good  accommodations  in 
the  Castle  of  St.  Angelo,  and  after  six  months'  honourable 
imprisonment  to  liberate  them  again ! 

This  is  a  high  premium  for  robbeiy  and  murder !  And 
the  more  heinous  the  crimes  they  have  committed,  the 
higher  is  to  be  their  reward!  The  chiefs  get  double  as 
much  as  the  rest.  The  way  for  a  man  to  get  a  pension  in 
Itome,  seems  to  be  to  turn  an  assassin. 

A  considerable  body  of  these  banditti  have  already  de- 
livered themselves  up  upon  the  faith  of  this  engagement, 
and  are  now  living  m  clover  at  the  Castle  of  St.  Angelo. 
People  flock  to  see  them  as  if  they  were  wild  beasts.  We 
went  a  few  days  ago,  and  I  intend  to  repeat  my  visit,  for 
their  appearance  and  manners  are  beyond  description  inte- 
resting. We  found  them  amusing  themselves  m  a  large 
open  court,  apparently  enjoying  the  novelty  of  their  situa- 
tion, and  the  notice  they  attracted.     They  are  a  very  fine 

*  The  English  completely  rid  Sicily  of  robbers,  simply  by  making  all 
proprietors,  townships,  &c.  responsible  for  the  robberies  committed 
within  their  estate,  or  jurisdiction.  The  system  they  established  is 
still  persevered  in;  and,  from  being  the  most  notorious  country  for 
robbery  in  the  worid,  the  crime  is  now  unheard  of.  A  man  may  now 
[1818]  travel  alone,  and  unguarded,  all  over  the  Island  of  Sicily  with  a 
bag  of  money  in  his  hand,  in  perfect  safety.  Several  friends  of  ours, 
lately,  though  known  to  be  remarkably  well  furnished  with  cash,  made 
the  whole  tour,  at  different  times,  without  fire-arms,  and  with  only  one 
attendant 


Digitized  by 


Google 


880  BOME. 

looking  set  of  men, — ^fine  limbs,  fine  features,  fine  flashing 
dark  eyes  and  hair,  and  bright  brown  complexions.  Their 
air  ana  deportment  is  &ee  and  independent,  expressing  un- 
daunted confidence  and  fearless  resolution.  But  their  coun- 
tenance ! — ^I  can  give  you  no  idea  of  the  sinister  expression 
— ^the  confirmed  villany  that  many  of  them  wore,  especially 
when  they  talked  and  laughed. 

Their  dresses  were  very  rich  and  picturesque.  One  of 
them  had  a  magnificent  embroidered  scarf  twisted  round 
him,  which  he  laughed  as  he  said  he  had  taken  from  a  lady. 

Tie  captain  boasted  of  having  killed  eighteen  men  with 
his  own  hand.  His  wife  waa  with  him :  she  is  only  nineteen, 
and  really  the  most  beautiful  creature  I  think  I  ever  beheld. 
Several  people  have  made  presents  to  these  wretches,  and 
more  especially  to  this  woman,  a  practice  I  must  say  I  think 
highly  reprehensible ;  and  I  am  afraid  the  example  was  set 
bv  an  English  lady  of  high  rank,  the  Duchess  of  Devon- 
shire, who,  as  the  patroness  of  learning,  taste,  and  talent,  I 
should  have  thought  would  scarcely  have  deigned  to  become 
the  patroness  of  robbers. 

Several  of  them  had  little  images  of  the  Virgin  and  the 
saints  suspended  round  their  necks.  One  of  them  took  out 
his  little  Madonna,  kissed  it,  and  said  he  should  never  have 
had  any  success  without  it, — that  it  had  often  saved  his  life, 
and  that  whenever  he  wanted  anything,  he  always  prayed  to 
it.  Another,  being  asked  what  they  would  do  when  they 
were  liberated,  replied,  with  a  face  which  it  would  be  vain 
to  describe, — "Oh,  we  shall  repent!" — (ci  pentvremo^  I 
wonder  if  the  poor  wretches  who  were  executed  on  the 
guillotine  the  other  day  deserved  it  better  than  those  who, 
in  six  months,  are  to  be  released  with  free  pardons  to  prey 
on  society  again.* 

The  whole  system  of  the  government  is  marked  by  the 
same  weakness  and  iucapacity.  It  would  be  endless  to 
enter  iuto  the  minutiae  of  the  mal-administration  which  per- 
vades every  department;  but,  for  example,  the  petty  im- 

*  After  my  retam  from  Italy,  I  learnt  that  the  Roman  Qovemment 
did  not  keep  their  faith  with  the  robbers,  and  that  at  the  end  of  twelve 
months  they  were  still  in  the  Castle  St.  Angelo.  I  leave  the  whole  of 
this  transaction  without  any  comment. 


Digitized  by 


Google 


TEXATIOTTS  IMPOSTS.  381 

posts,  absurd  restrictions,  ruinous  monopolies,  and  frivolous 
impediments,  with  which  commerce  is  fettered,  act  as  a 
complete  interdict  to  it.  So  many  difficulties  and  perplex- 
ities are  in  the  way  of  every  branch  of  business,  and  so 
many  delays  and  forms,  and  offices  and  vexations,  have  to  be 
passed  through  in  the  importation  and  exportation  of  evenr 
commodity — even  of  the  native  produce  of  the  Pope's  domi- 
nions, in  their  passage  from  one  part  of  it  to  another — ^that 
a  man  had  need  of  the  patience  of  Job  to  transact  business 
at  Eome. 

To  give  you  some  faint  notion  of  this :  the  wine  of  Monte- 
fiascone,  though  remarkably  delicious,  is  scarcely  to  be  had 
in  Eome  at  all;  and  that  of  Orvietto,  though  grown  at  a 
trifling  distance,  sells  at  nearly  treble  its  price  on  the  spot. 
The  Annona  laws,  with  aU  their  absurdities,  are  still  in 
force ;  and  the  popularity  of  the  Pope  and  his  ministers  is 
by  no  means  increased  by  the  heavy  duties  {gabelle)  which 
their  wisdom  has  seen  fit  to  lay  on  every  sort  of  article- 
Duties  carried  to  excess  equally  impoverish  the  revenue 
and  the  subject.  The  consumption  is  so  materially  dimi- 
nished, that  the  smaU  quantitv  used  produces  far  less  under 
an  extravagant  tax,  than  a  large  quantity  would  under  a 
moderate  one ;  not  to  mention  the  temptation  to  smuggling, 
the  expense  of  keeping  up  a  check  upon  it,  and  the  impos- 
sibility of  preventing  it.  Besides,  the  smaller,  quantity  of 
your  neighbour's  produce  you  import,  the  less  of  yours  they 
can  afford  to  take  from  you;  for  all  commerce  is  barter. 
There  are  many  instances  of  governments  acting  on  this  dog 
and  the  shadow  kind  of  principle ;  but  none,  I  imagine,  ever 
carried  it  to  moi«  perfection  than  this.  If  a  merchant  from 
any  remote  part  chooses  to  send  his  wine,  or  oil,  or  cheese,' 
or  wool,  or  Hnt,  or  cloth,  or  what  not,  to  this  metropolis,  he 
must  pay  a  heavy  duty,  not  only  on  entering  the  city,  but  at 
every  town  it  passes  through.;  while  there  are  various  sapient 
laws  enacted  against  the  exportation  of  the  chief  articles  of 
native  produce. 

The  government  here  looks  with  a  jealous  eye  on  Austria, 
who  intermeddles  strangdy  in  all  affairs ;  so  much  so,  that 
sundry  sagacious  politicians  have  predicted  that  the  Pope 
will  soon  no  longer  be  armed  wim  independent  temporal 


Digitized  by 


Google 


882  HOME. 

power,  and  tliat  the  Papal  will  soon  be  merged  in  the 
Austrian  States.  Of  this,  however,  I  should  hope  there  is 
little  probability;  for  though  an  ecclesiastical  government 
is,  and  must  be  bad,  an  Austrian  one  is  ten  times  worse. 
It  would  really  be  to  fall,  as  they  say  themselves,  "  dalla 
padella  nelle  brace;**  or,  according  to  our  homely  equivalent 
proverb,  "  out  of  the  frying-pan  into  the  fire." 

Bad  as  the  papal  government  is,  indeed,  it  is  by  no  means 
so  bad  as  that  beneath  which  a  great  part  of  Italy  is  groan- 
ing. Not  so  bad,  for  instance,  as  Naples,  or  Piedmont,  or 
Genoa,  abandoned  by  English  broken  faith  to  Sardinia ;  or 
ill-fated  Lombardy ;  or  expiring  Venice ;  or  even  the  little 
Duchy  of  Parma;  or  the  stiQ  smaller  morsel  of  Lucca, 
which  have  been  carved  out  to  satisfy  the  cravings  of  king- 
domless  royalty. 

Tuscany,  upon  the  whole,  has  by  far  the  least  to  com- 
plain of.  But  people  in  England  who  talk  of  erecting  Italy 
mto  one  great  independent  kingdom,  know  nothing  of  the 
Italians.  They  hate  each  other  with  a  hatred  surpassing 
that  of  common  Christians,  and  the  nearer  the  neighbour- 
hood, the  more  inveterate  the  animosity. 

Eome  and  Naples,  Pisa  and  Florence,  Florence  and  Siena, 
Modena  and  Bologna, — in  short,  wherever  there  are  two 
cities  within  a  reasonable  distance  of  each  other,  be  sure 
the  most  cordial  detestation  reigns  between  them.  A  man 
from  a  little  town  or  village  ten  miles  off,  calls  himself  a 
foreigner,  and  is  considered  so  by  the  people  he  comes 
amongst,  just  as  much  as  if  he  came  from  the  other  end  of 
the  world.  A  man's  *  patria,'  in  Italy,  is  the  most  limited 
thing  imaginable.  It  is  confined  to  the  village  which  gave 
him  birth. 

It  is  true,  that  there  was,  and  is,  a  strong  spirit  of  inde- 
pendence in  the  north,  and,  indeed,  over  the  whole  of  Italy, 
and  it  was  the  want  of  that  principle  of  union,  to  which  I 
have  alluded,  that  alone  prevented  them  from  asserting  their 
liberty,  in  that  auspicious  moment  when  the  French  yoke 
was  taken  off,  and  no  other  was  yet  imposed.  At  present, 
however,  the  friends  of  freedom,  or  the  faction  of  the  car- 
honari,  as  they  call  themselves,  increase  every  day ;  and  it 
will  be  strange,  if  in  Lombardy,  at  least,  they  do  not  soon 
assume  courage  enough  to  break  their  chauis. 


Digitized  by 


Google 


AKTI-GAXHCAK   SPIBIT.  383 


They  want  no  masters,  neither  French  nor  Austrian. 
"  Oe  sono  clue  hestie,'*  said  a  Milanese  to  me,  with  a  bitter 
gesture  of  detestation.  Of  the  two,  however,  the  present 
•  bestia '  1/  should  suppose  to  be  by  far  the  most  generalljr 
and  deservedly  detested.  Such,  certainly,  was  the  senti- 
ment of  a' pocfr  man,  to  whom  I  happened  to  observe,  that 
they  had  n«w  got  the  Austrian  eagle  with  two  necks,  instead 
of  the  rrenkh  with  one.  "  Si,  Signora,^^  he  replied,  heaving 
a  deep  sigh,  *^  e  mangia  doppioy 

Indeed,  the  French  ought  to  be  beloved  at  Milan,  if  any- 
where; for  they  did  a  great  deal  for  it;  instituted  new 
manufactures — erected  new  buildings — elevated  it  into  the 
seat  of  government,  the  capital  of  the  kingdom — ^made  the 
wealth  of  the  country  flow  into  it,  and  in  a  great  measure 
sacrificed  to  it  the  rest  of  Italy. 

And  yet  their  government  was  so  far  from  popular,  that 
the  moment  the  terror  of  their  arms  was  removed,  we  know 
that  the  governor  was  literally  torn  in  pieces.  If,  therefore, 
they  were  so  little  liked  at  Milan,  which  they  had  patro- 
nized, we  may  conclude  they  could  not  be  much  beloved  at 
Borne,  which  they  had  oppressed;  or  Venice,  which  they 
had  destroyed.  Much  good,  however,  and  much  evil,  may 
with  truth  be  reported  of  the  French ;  but  the  good  is  gone, 
and  the  evil  remains.  At  the  same  time,  it  must  be  owned, 
that  if  they  were  equally  rapacious  and  despotic,  they  were 
by  no  means  so  senseless,  as  the  governments  which  have 
succeeded  them;  and  which  seem  to  have  vied  with  each 
other  in  the  generous  design  to  whitewash  their  character 
at  the  expense  of  their  own. 

Independent  of  this  contrast,  however,  I  own  I  cannot 
see  that  anything  Napoleon  ever  did  for  Italy  was  so  very 
surprising.  He  made  himself  master  not  only  of  the  im- 
mense revenues  of  churches  and  convents,  but  too  often  of 
hospitals ;  he  imposed  heavy  burdens  on  the  people ;  and  at 
Home,  at  least,  reduced  many  of  the  nobles  to  beggary,  by 
exorbitant  contributions.  Possessed  of  these  immense  re- 
sources, he  made  military  roads  for  the  progress  of  his 
ambition,  and  built  triumphal  arches  for  the  gratification  of 
his  vanity.  Ambition  he  possessed — ^insatiate  ambition — 
but  not  tnat  ambition  which  is 

**  The  glorious  fault  of  heroes  and  of  gods;^ 

Digitized  by  LjOOQ IC 


384  BOHS. 

his  ambition  was  for  power,  not  for  glorj ;  to  suliogate,  not 
to  bless  the  world.  It  was  the  vice  of  a  demcti,  not  the 
failing  of  an  angel. 

I  am  aware  these  observations  will  give  great  offence  to 
that  numerous  body  of  English,  who  pour  forth  iQtjualified 
praise  of  Napoleon's  reign  in  Italy;  and  who,  -'lule  they 
profess  themselves  warm  advocates  of  liberty,  vefy  consist- 
ently eulogize  the  man  who  sought  to  establish  universal 
despotism  through  blood  and  carnage — ^to  lay  bas  iron-bound 
tyranny,  not  onlv  over  the  persons,  but  the  minds  of  men, — 
over  the  press,  the  commerce,  the  literature  of  Europe. 

The  desolating  effects  of  his  reign,  I  fear,  Europe  will 
long  feel,  in  the  exhausted  resources,  increased  burdens, 
and  palsied  commerce^  which  weigh  down  her  states ;  and 
the  hopeless  atheism,  and  dread  demoralization,  which  poison 
her  people. 

But  I  have  fallen  into  a  gloomy  vein.    So  adieu  I 


Digitized  by 


Google 


XXCUBBIOir  TO  OSTIA.  3JBd 


LETTEE  XCVI. 

OSTIA. 

Otjb  last  excursion  from  Eome  was  to  Ostia.  Nothing 
can  be  more  dreary  than  the  ride  to  this  once  magnficent 
sea-port.  Even  before  you  leave  the  gates  of  Eome,  you  find 
yourself  in  a  desert.  Tou  issue  out  through  the  Porta  San 
j?aola;  pass  the  graves  of  your  countrymen,  and  the  proud 
sepulchral  pyramid  of  Caius  Cestius,  the  deserted  convent  of 
San  Paola  alle  Tre  Fontane — and  proceed  through  a  con- 
tinued scene  of  dismal  and  heart-sinking  desolation;  no  fields, 
no  dwellings,  no  trees,  no  landmarks,  no  signs  of  cultivation 
— except  a  few  scanty  patches  of  com,  thimy  scattered  over 
the  waste,  and  huts,  like  wigwams,  to  shelter  the  wretched 
and  half  savage  people  that  are  doomed  to  live  on  this  field 
of  death.  For,  by  a  strange  paradox,  man,  in  order  to  drag 
on  a  miserable  existence,  is  here  driven  into  the  very  jaws  of 
certain  destruction. 

The  Tiber,  rolling  turbidly  along  in  his  solitary  course, 
seems  sullenly  to  behold  the  altered  scenes  that  have  withered 
around  him.  Two  thousand  years  ago,  and  his  shores  were 
blooming  in  beauty,  and  crowded  with  the  proud  palaces  of 
the  great  and  the  gay.  Here,  it  is  not  only  the  works  of 
man  that  have  perished;  Nature  herself  seems  to  have  fallen 
into  decay :  and  the  total  absence  of  existing  objects  seems 
to  give  more  place  for  remembrances. 

A  few  miles  from  Ostia,  we  entered  upon  a  wilderness 
indeed.  A  dreary  swamp  extended  all  around,  intermingled 
with  thickets,  through  which  roamed  wild  buffaloes,  the  only 
inhabitants  of  the  waste — sometimes  seen  breaking  through 
the  brake,  or  treading  down  reeds  higher  than  themselves — 
sometimes  swimming  across  the  stagnant  waters — in  their 
habits  grown  amphibious,  Uke  the  scenes  they  tenanted. 
TOL.  n.  2  0 


Digitized  by 


Google 


aw  Bou. 

A  considerable  part  of  the  way  was  upon  the  ancient  pave- 
ment of  the  Via  Ostiensis,  in  some  places  in  good  preserva- 
tion, in  others  broken  up  and  destroyed.  When  this  flailed 
us,  the  road  was  execrable. 

The  modem  fortifications  of  Ostia  appeared  before  us  long 
before  we  reached  them.  At  lenp;th  we  entered  its  gate, 
guarded  by  no  sentinel;  on  its  bastions  appeared  no  soldier; 
no  children  ran  out  from  its  houses  to  gaze  at  the  rare  splen- 
dour of  a  carriage ;  no  woman  stood  with  rock  and  spmdle 
at  her  cottage-aoor ;  no  passenger  was  seen  in  the  grass- 
grown  street.  It  presented  the  strange  spectacle  of  a  town 
without  inhabitants.  After  some  beating  and  hallooing,  on 
the  part  of  the  coachman  and  lacquey,  at  the  shut-up  door  of 
one  of  the  houses,  a  woman,  unclosing  the  shutter  of  an  upper 
window,  presented  her  ghastly  face ;  and  having  first  care- 
fully reconnoitred  us,  slowly  and  reluctantly  admitted  us 
into  her  wretched  hovel. 

"  Where  are  aU  the  people  of  the  town  ?"  we  enquired. 

"  Dead !"  was  the  brief  reply. 

The  fever  of  the  malaria  annually  carries  off  almost  all 
whom  necessitv  confines  to  this  pestilential  region.  But  this 
was  the  month  of  April,  the  season  of  comparative  health, 
and  we  learnt,  on  more  strict  inquiry,  that  the  population  of 
Ostia,  at  present,  nominally  consisted  of  twelve  men,  four 
women,  no  children,  and  two  priests.  A  body  of  convicts, 
whose  lives  it  is  found  convenient  to  shorten,  are  also  kejpt 
here;  but  they,  with  the  few  soldiers  who  constitute  their 
guard,  were  out  at  labour  when  we  arrived  ;*  the  men  were 
roaming  about  the  marshes,  shooting  birds  and  buffaloes,  and 
the  woman  whom  we  saw  was  HteraUy  the  only  person  in  this 
deserted  town.  Yet  it  still  has  three  churches,  and  is  the 
see  of  a  bishop. 

The  ruins  of  Old  Ostia  are  farther  in  the  wilderness.  The 
sea  is  now  two  miles,  or  nearly,  from  the  ancient  port.  The 
cause  of  this,  in  a  great  measure,  seems  to  be,  that  the  extreme 

*  I  understand  their  principal  work  is  at  the  atagni,  or  salt  manihes, 
where,  by  natural  evaporation,  the  salt  is  made  (and  very  bad  it  is) 
that  is  used  in  Rome.  One  of  the  priests  told  me  the  conTict^tation 
k«re  was  an  asylum  for  criminals,  and  that,  guil^  of  whatever  crimes, 
if  they  fled  here  they  escaped  trial  and  further  poniahment,  bat  that 
few  x>r  none  sought  it  uncondemned. 


Digitized  by 


Google 


08Tii..  387 

flaiaieas  of  the  land  does  not  allow  the  Tiber  to  carry  off  the 
immense  quantity  of  earth  and  mud  its  turbid  waters  bring 
down ;  and  the  more  that  is  dejposited,  the  more  sluggishly  it 
flows;  and  thus  the  shore  rises,  the  sea  recedes,  and  the 
marshes  extend. 

Ostia  was  originally  founded  by  Ancus  Martins,*  and  it 
continued  to  be  the  only  port  of  Borne  until  the  time  of 
.  Claudius,  who  built  Porto,  on  the  opposite  bank  of  the  river. 
The  marshy  Insula  Sacra,  in  the  middle  of  the  river,  once 
sacred  to  Apollo,  and  now  inhabited  by  wild  buffaloes,  divides 
the  two  ancient  harbours  which  Cassiodorus  calls  *  the  eyes 
of  £ome.'  After  the  building  of  Claudiuses  new  port  on  the 
right  bank  of  the  river,  the  Mt  stream,  by  which  Maeas  had 
entered  its  "yellow"  tide,  and  on  which  Ostia  stands,  was 
quite  deserted. 

We  had  intended  to  have  crossed  to  the  Sacred  Island,  and 
firom  thence  to  the  village  of  Fiumicino,  on  the  other  side, 
where  there  are  said  to  be  still  some  noble  remains  of  ancient 
Porto,  particularly  of  the  mole ;  but  a  storm  suddenly  came 
on,  with  such  tremendous  fury,  that  it  was  with  the  utmost 
difficulty  we  could  keep  our  reet ;  and  our  plan  of  crossing 
the  wide  mouth  of  the  Tiber,  in  a  crazy  boat,  was  wholly 
frustrated.  Bribery  itself  would  not  induce  the  boatmen 
to  venture. 

The  hats  of  the  gentlemen  were  bound  on  their  heads  with 
handkerchiefs,  and  arm-in-arm  wo  tried  to  conteind  with  the 
fury  of  the  blast,  so  far  as  to  see  the  remains  of  Old  Ostia. 
They  are  on  higher  ground,  scattered  over  a  green  plain, 
**  purpled  with  vernal  flowers."  Broken  columns  of  granite, 
slabs  of  marble,  and  fragments  of  inscriptions  without  num- 
ber, were  strewed  along  the  grass.  AU  over  it  the  turf  was 
heaved  in  many  a  verdfmt  hillock,  which  seemed  to  cover  the 
ruins  of  magnificent  temples  and  palaces. 

We  saw  the  fine  Boman  brick  walls  of  an  ancient  buil- 
ding, called  by  the  vulgar  a  Temple,  and  by  antiquaries  a 
Curia, — but  why  a  senate-house  at  Ostia?  We  looked  in 
vain  for  any  traces  of  the  camp  of  -/Eneas,which  must  have 
been  near  here ;  and  as  for  the  Numicus — the 
"  Fontis  stagna  Kumici," 

♦  Liyy,  1.  i,  c.  83 ;  "  In  ore  Tiberia  Oatia  urbs  condita,"  &c. 

2  0  2 


Digitized  by 


Google 


388  BOicB. 

it  is  nowhere  to  be  seen,  not  even  by  antiquarian  eyes,  along 
the  whole  extent  of  coast. 

We  saw,  indeed,  the  diy  bed  of  a  stream,  called  the 
Mume  MortOy  but  it  is  close  to,  and  has  evidently  been,  the 
bed  of  the  Tiber.  Another  Mume  Morto,  the  people  told 
us,  is  in  the  Isola  Sacra. 

Our  examination  of  the  remaLos  of  antiquiiy  at  Ostia,  if 
any  more  there  be,  was,  however,  abruptly  terminated. 
Obliged  to  yield  to  the  increasing  violence  of  the  storm,  we 
were  driven  back  to  the  wretched  osteria  we  had  left.  In 
its  large  black  kitchen,  hall,  and  common  apartment,  the 
only  habitable  place  in  it,  we  found  assembled  some  wild 
ruman-lookiQg  men,  who  had  sought  shelter,  like  ourselves, 
from  the  gale ;  two  of  them  were  playing  at  the  game  of 
morra,  theur  countenance  inflamed  with  eagerness,  and  ooca- 
sionally  with  passion,  as  disputes  arose  about  the  number  of 
fingers  they  had  shown.*  But  no  bloody  termination  en- 
sued.   Three  or  four  of  their  companions  were  lookiag  on. 

They  soon  resigned  to  us  the  dirty  table  of  boards,  and 
the  wooden  benches,  which,  except  a  few  crazy  stools  and 
empty  casks,  formed  the  only  furniture  of  the  place;  and 
here  we  ate  the  cold  dinner  we  had  brought  with  us  from. 
Bome. 

The  storm  also  prevented  us  from  visiting  the  site  of 
Laurentinum,  the  wmter  villa  of  the  Younger  Pliny,t  which 
is  about  four  miles  from  hence,  on  the  coast.  Some  of  the 
walls,  I  tmderstand,  are  still  standing. 

"We  delayed  our  departure  as  long  as  possible,  in  hopes 
the  storm  would  abate ;  but  in  vain.  We  returned  at  last 
without  having  visited  the  Insula  Sacra,  or  the  ruins  of  the 
Port,  on  the  opposite  shore,  where  now  stands  the  village  of 
iPiumicino.  we  consoled  ourselves  for  our  disappointment 
by  the  resolution  to  make  another  excursion  to  tnem  from 
Bome  by  the  other  side  of  the  Tiber ;  but  this,  like  many 
such  resolutions,  has  never  been  accomplished. 

*  For  some  account  of  this  gamot  see  Letter  LII. 
t  The  same  so  nxinately  described  ia  Wmj,  1.  ii,  Epist.  17. 


Digitized  by 


Googk 


8UKBET  OK  THI  PALATHfE. 


LETTER  XCVn. 

SxJirsBT  ON  THE  Palatiite — ^Thb  Colosseum  and  the 
EoBiTM  BY  Moonlight. 

On  one  of  those  delicious  evenings  that  close  the  bright 
andbeantiM  days  of  autumn  in  tms  country,  I  lingered  on 
the  Palatine  until  the  sun  sunk  in  a  flood  of  light  and  glory, 
such  as  no  power  of  language  or  of  painting  can  portray. 
Vainly  would  imagination  try  to  body  forth  the  beauty  of 
an  hour  like  this  beneath  the  heavenly  sky  of  Italy.  The 
Boft  mist  that  floated  over  the  landscape  like  a  silver 
▼efl,  softened,  without  obscuring,  every  object,  and  gave  a 
shadowy  beauty  to  the  grev  tombs  that  covered  the  wide 

glain  of  the  Campagna,  wmle  the  hues  that  painted  the 
•abine  Hills,  the  purple  lights  that,  fading,  blended  into 
distance,  and  the  last  crimson  glow  that  was  reflected  from 
tihe  tops  of  the  embattled  Apennines,  altogether  formed  a 
picture  that  would  have  awakened  admiration  in  the  coldest 
breast. 

I  stood  on  the  terrace  of  the  Palace  of  the  CaBsars,— on 
that  ancient  hill  where  the  kings  of  Eome,  the  heroes  of  the 
Bepublic,  and  the  imperial  tyrants  of  the  world,  had  suc- 
cessively triumphed  and  passed  away. 

The  last  honzontal  beam  of  the  god  of  day,  darting  under 
the  broad  shade  of  the  dark  pine-tree,  fell  on  the  shattered 
ruins  at  mj  feet.  Eighteen  centuries  had  now  almost  com- 
pleted then*  course  since  first  his  radiance  had  illumined  the 
golden  walls  of  this  magnificent  fabric ;  a  thousand  years  his 
light  had  seen  them  laid  in  ruins,  and  still  his  setting  ray 
seemed  to  shine  with  redoubled  splendour  on  the  fallen 


Digitized  by 


Google 


300  Bon. 

marbles  of  that  proud  fane  within  which  he  was  once 
adored.* 

**  Slow  Binkfl,  more  lorel j  ere  his  course  be  run. 
O'er  Latinm's  desert  plains — the  setting  sun; 
Not,  as  in  northern  climes,  obscurely  bright^ 
Bat  one  unclouded  blaze  of  living  light : 
O'er  Home's  proud  seat,  o'er  Tiber's  sacred  isle. 
The  god  of  gladness  sheds  his  paring  smile; 
O'er  his  own  regions  lingering  lores  to  shine, 
Though  there  lus  altars  are  no  more  divine." 

Transitoiy  as  beautiM,  the  deep  glow  of  the  western  sk^r 
quickly  faded  away ; — the  shades  of  evening  rapidly  closed 
around — ^no  twilight  here  interposed  its  meditative  hour, 
but  the  moon  arose  with  a  brightness  and  beauty  unknown 
to  our  wintry  climate,  and  the  evening  star  hghted  her 
glowing  lamp  in  the  west ;  as  beneath  their  mingled  rays, 
which  trembled  through  the  dark  shade  of  the  tall  cvpresses, 
we  slowly  passed  along  the  now  forsaken  Triumphal  Wa^y 
towards  the  Colosseum.  Would  that  I  could  describe  it  to 
you  as  it  stood  in  its  ruined  loneliness  amidst  the  deserted, 
hills  of  ancient  Eome,  surrounded  with  the  remains  of  over- 
thrown temples,  imperial  palaces,  triumphal  arches,  and 
buried  thermffi, — mighty  even  in  decay ! 

The  still,  pale  moonbeam  fell  on  the  lines  of  its  projecting 
columns,  range  above  range,  to  the  lofby  attic,  in  ealvef^ 
light,  leaving  the  black  arches  in  mysterious  darkness. 

We  passed  under  the  great  arch  of  entrance,  crossed  the 
grass-grown  area,  ascended  the  long  staircases,  and  tra- 
versed the  circling  corridors.  No  sound  met  our  ear  but 
the  measured  tread  of  our  own  footsteps,  and  the  whispered 
murmurs  of  our  own  voices.  The  deep  solitude  and  sLLencey 
the  immensity  and  the  ruin  of  the  great  fabric  that  sur- 
rounded us,  filled  our  minds  with  awe ;  and  as  we  caught 
the  view  of  the  stars  appearing  and  disappearing  through 
the  opening  arcades,  marked  the  moonbeams  iUumining  the 
wide  range  of  these  loffcy  walls,  and  raised  our  eyes  to  the 
beauty  of  the  calm,  dear  firmament  above  our  head, — ^we 

*  The  broken  Corinthian  columns,  and  capitals  of  a  temple  on  thia 
hin,  are  supposed  to  be  the  ruins  of  the  famous  Temple  of  Apollo  on 
tlie  Palatine. 


Digitized  by 


Google 


DESOLATED  XUINB.  981 

dovld  not  but  remember  that,  msaj  Ages  past,  these  eternal 
lights  of  heaven  had  shone  on  the  sloping  sides  of  this  vast 
amphitheatre  when  thejr  were  crowded  with  thousandB  of 
humaa-  beings,  impatient  for  the  barbaroos  sports  of  the 
rising  day, — where  now  only  the  wild  weeds  wared  as  1^ 
night-breeze  passed  over  them.* 

Ib^ature  holds  her  eternal  course ; — ^the  works  of  man 
perish.  Earth  is  strewed  over  with  the  mouldering  vestiges 
of  his  vanity  and  ambition ;  and  yet,  compared  with  his  own 
little  space,  how  durable  are  even  those  mute  memorials  1 
How  wonderful  is  the  discrepancy  between  the  duration  of 
his  works  and  his  own  existence !  The  bmldings  he  raises, 
the  characters  he  impresses  on  the  page,  the  colours  he 
spreads  on  the  canvas,  the  forms  he  creates  in  the  breathing 
marble — ^live ;  they  enjoy  a  species  of  immortality  on  earth : 
but  he  passes  away  like  a  shadow. 

"We  gazed  around  us  on  the  gigantic  wreck  of  this  mighty 
fabric ;  and  as  we  recalled  what  it  had  once  been,  the  long 
procession  of  years  which  had  gone  bv — ^the  silent  march  of 
time — the  countless  generations  that  had  gone  down  to  the 
dust,  rushed  forcibly  upon  our  mind.  The  proud  masters 
of  the  world  were  no  more ;  and  we,  pilgrims  from  a  then 
despised  and  barbarous  land,  were  wandering  amidst  the 
ruined  moniunents  of  their  pride  and  their  power,  to  admire 
their  grandeur  and  to  mourn  over  their  decay  1 

We  quitted  the  Colosseum;  we  passed  along  the  im- 
tracked  course  of  the  Yia  Sacra,  amidst  ruined  temples 
and  tottering  arches ;  we  beheld  before  us  the  once-proud 
Capitol;  we  stood  in  the  Boman  Forum.  How  well  did 
this  hour  of  stillness,  when  nature  itself  seemed  hushed, 
accord  with  this  scene  of  ancient  glorv !  How  softly  the 
silver  moonbeams  fell  on  the  Corinthian  columns  and 
broken  porticos  of  the  temples,  whose  very  gods  are  for- 
gotten! How  distinctly  its  clear  light  marked  the  dark 
decaying  marble  of  that  proud  sculpture,  meant  to  immor- 
talize the  triumphs  of  heroes  ;  and  how  beautifully  its  pale 
and  moumM  rav  harmonized  with  the  mouldering  anehes 
sunk  in  earth,  like  the  deeds  they  commemorate !  I  could 

*  It  was  customary  for  the  common  people  thus  to  secure  places 
over-night  to  see  the  games. 


Digitized  by 


Google 


SOICB. 

almost  hare  fancied  that  I  saw  Time  seated  amidst  l^e 
rains  he  had  made,  mocking  at  their  yanity,  as  he  wovked 
at  their  destruction.  Our  thoughts  turned  upon  those 
over  whom  he  has  no  power, — ^for  whom  there  is  no  monu- 
ment,— ^but  whose  memory  is  immortal  on  earth ;  and  we 
felt,  not  without  emotion,  that  we  stood  on  the  yenerable 
soil  where  CamiUus,  and  Scipio,  and  Brutus,  and  Cicero 
had  trod: 

In  future  years,  how  often  in  my  nafciye  land  shall  I 
recal  to  my  mind 

"  that  in  my  youth 
When  I  was  wandering, — upon  such  a  night 
I  stood  within  the  Colosseum's  walls, 
'Midst  the  chief  relics  of  almighty  Bome. 
The  trees  which  grew  along  the  broken  arches 
Wared  dark  in  the  blue  midnight,  and  the  star& 
Shone,  through  the  rents  of  ruin ;  from  afar 
The  watch-dog  bayed  beyond  the  Tiber;  and 
More  near  from  out  the  Caesar's  palace  came 
The  owl's  long  cry ;  and  interruptedly 
Of  distant  sentinels  the  fitful  song 
Begun  and  died  upon  the  gentle  wind." 


And  thou  didst  shine,  thou  rolling  moon^  upon 

All  this,  and  cast  a  wide  and  tender  light 

Which  soften'd  down  the  hoar  austerity 

Of  rugged  desoUtion,  and  fiU'd  up. 

As  't  were,  anew,  the  gaps  of  centuries ; 

Leaving  that  beautiful  which  still  was  so. 

And  making  that  which  was  not,  till  the  place 

Became  religious,  and  the  heart  ran  o'er 

With  silent  worship  of  the  great  of  old. 

The  dead  but  sceptred  sovereigns,  who  still  rule  — 

Our  spirits  from  their  urns !" 

LoBD  Btbon. 

"Whilst  our  hearts  were  touched  with  feelings  such  as 
these,  a  bell  from  a  distant  convent  on  the  Ceelian  Hill, 
which  tolled  to  call  the  friars  to  their  midnight  devotions, 
broke  upon  the  silence  of  night.  At  the  sound,  a  figure 
glided  from  the  shade  of  the  Temple  of  Concord,  passed 
before  us  like  a  shadow,  and  disappeared  among  the  trees. 


Digitized  by 


Google 


THE  FABSWXLL.  396 

We  were  somewhat  startled  at  this  apparition,  which,  ac- 
cording to  all  the  rules  of  romance,  should  have  served 
88  the  prelude  to  some  mysterious  adventure ;  but  it  only 
served  to  warn  us  to  go  home  to  bed ;  and,  as  it  appeared 
to  us  no  more,  nor  even  condescended  to  explain  why  it  had 
appeared  at  all,  you  may  conceive  it  to  have  been  a  ghost 
or  a  man,  a  monk  or  an  assassin,  as  best  suits  your  mncy. 
Parewell. 


Digitized  by 


Google 


Digitized  by 


Google 


INDEX. 


Absolution  granted  by  the  Pope, 

1.421 
Academy  of  Fine  Arts,  at  Siena, 

i.  33,  35 
French,  establidied  in 

Rome,  ii.  163 

of  St.  Luke,  ii.  89,  90 

-  of  Music,  ii.  263 


Acanthus,  wild  luxuriance  of  the, 
contrasted  with  its  sculptured 
form,  i.  142;  growth  and  bloom 
of,  i.  143;  decorative  use  of,  in 
architecture,  i.  222 

Accademia  of  sacred  music,  ii.  189 

Accius  NseTius,  i.  3 

Acqua  Pendente,  romantic  fiitu»- 

t    tion  of,  i.  46 

Actors  first  sent  to  Rome,  from 
Etruria,  i.  274;  present  infe- 
riority of,  ii.  269 

:.£diles  plebeian,  i.  835,  n. 

.^sop,  a  celebrated  actor  of  anti- 
quity, i.  277 

'  Aggeres,  or  mounds  of  defence,  i. 
159 

Agrippa,  battles  of,  1.  304 

iAlaric,  destruction  of  Rome  by, 
i.  124 

Alba  Longa,  the  Trojan  town,  the 
mother  of  Rome,  i.  89,  ii.  361; 
site  of,  i.  150 

Alban  Lake,  once  the  crater  of 
a  Tolcano,  ii.  366;  remarkable 
outlet  to,  ii.  355 

—  Mount,  first  view  of,  i,  89; 
afleent  of,  ii.  362,  364 


Albano^  situation  of,  1.  89;  anti- 
quities qX,  ii.  355;  grottos  of, 
ii.  354,  357,  359 

Alexander  Severus,  aqueduct  ^, 
i.  348 

Alfieri,  tragedies  of,  ii.  265 

Algidum,  city  of,  ii.  342,  378 

Algido,  Monte,  ii.  378 

Almo,  chissic  stream  of,  i.  384, 430 

Alter  of  Census,  i.  259 

Alter  of  the  Elician  Jove,  erected 
by  Numa,  i.  164,  165 

of  Jupiter  Viminalis,  1. 177 

to  MiE^ortune,  i.  175 

of  Murcia,  i.  259. 

Pagan,  at  Siena,  i.  32 

of  Serapis,  i.  268 

to  the  god  of  Secrecy,  i.  259 

to  the  god  Terminus,  i.  154 

of  Vulcan,  i.  199 

Amazons,  stetues  of,  it  76;  battle 
of  the,  ii.  78 

Amici  (Amisi),  improvements  in*, 
the  microscope  by,  ii.  385. 

Amphitheatre  of  Pompeii,  i.  289 

Amphitheatres  first  built  in  Rome, 
i.  286 ;  wild  beasts,  for  the,  fed  . 
with  criminals,  1.  291 

of  wood,  built  by 


Nero,  i.  286 
Flavian.— See  Co* 

loMeum. 
Amphitheatmm  CaBtrenae,  i.  122, 

199,  222 
Ancient  bridges  of  Rome,  i  338 
Temple  of  Piety,  erected  to 


Digitized  by 


Google 


IKBIX. 


the  Roman  daughter,  who  Bayed 
her  father  when  condemned  to 
perish    with    hunger,    i.    249; 
ehurch  on  the  site  of  the,  ibid. 
-  Temple  of  Bellona,  site  of. 


i  251 ;  priests  of,  ibid. 

Temple  of  Janus,  i.  260 

■■  Borne,  remains  of,  i.  75; 

mins  of,  i.  450 
Anens  Martiiis,  i.  114 
Animals,  hall  of,  i.  96 
Anio,  a  river  which  runs  into  the 

Tiber,  i.  335;  cascades  of  the,  il 

338;  petrifying  quality  of  the 

water,  ii.  387;  rock-deposits  of, 
r    ibid. 
Annibale  Oaracci,  frescoes  of.    See 

Fre$eo€9, 
i^— paintings  of.  See 

Paintings, 
Annunciation,  festa  of  the,  ii.  177 
Antiques,  manufactory  of,  ii.  812 
Antiquity,  remaius  of,  on  the  Via 
'     Appia,  i   884 ;  on  the  Via  La- 

tina»  i.  889;  yestiges  of,  found 

in  the  walls  of  Rome,  i.  119 
Antiquarianism,  trite  definition  of, 

i.l49 
Antiquities,  natural,  of  Rome,  ii. 
.     283 

-Antium,  the  birth-place  of  Nero,  i. 
r    106  ;  ancient  town  of,  ii.  369 
Antoninus  Pius,  Forum  of,  i.  211 ; 

temple  of,  i.  213 
'  A&tinotis,  colossal  statue  of,  ii.  122; 

far-famed  rilieyo  of,  ii.  169, 170 
Anxur,  yiew  from  the  clifis  of,  ii. 

366  . 
Apartment  in  Caesar's  palace,  i. 

136 
'  Apellicon,  library  of,  i.  284 
Apennines,  the,  1.  21,  89 
Apollo,  statue    of,    i.   6;    temple 

of,   on   the    Palatine,    i.    141 ; 

library  and  museum  of,  i.  142 ; 

colossal  statue  of,  i.  269,  ii  86 
Apollo  Belyidere,  i.  104, 105 
Apotheosis  of  Homer,  ii.  100 


Appius,  tribunal  of,  i.  199 

Aqua  Acetosa,  or  mineral  sprii^, 
876 

Appia,   Aqua  Martia,  and 

Aqua  Tepula,  waters  with  which 
Rome  was  supplied,  i.  347 

Crabra,  celebrated  by  Cicero^ 

ii.  360. 

Aqueducts  first  constructed  in 
Rome,  L  347;  care  of,  under 
Augustus,  i.  348;  description  of 
the,  ii  338;  destruction  of,  i. 
349 

Aqueduct  of  Alexander  Seyema;  i. 
348 

'  of  Augustus,  i  347 

of  Claudius,  arch  of,  L 


123,  346,  ii  338;  remains  of 
the,  i  348 

-  Martian,  ruins  of,  i.  347; 


immense  reseryoir  of,  i.  350 
of  Nero,  i  346 


Ara  Coeli,  church  and  conyent  of, 
i  76,  ii.  15;  situation  of,  L 
154 

Maxima,  the  great  altar  con- 
secrated to  Hercules,  i.  166,  235 

Arabesques,  by  Raphael,  in  the 
Vatican,  i  316;  in  the  baths  of 
Titus,  i  316 

Arbor  Sancta,  or  sacred  tree,  i.  172 

Arch  of  Claudius  Drusus  Nero, 
i  340,  344 

of  Constantino,  i  81,  342 

of  Dolabella  and  Silanus,   L 

344 

of  the  Fabii,  i  183 

of  Fabius  the  Censor,  i.  199 

of  Gallienus,  i.  344 

— ^  of  Germanicus,  i  844,  346 

of  Gordian,  i.  340 

of  Janus,  i  843 

of  Marcus  Aurelius,  L  345 ; 

ii  86 

of  Musagetcs,  i.  98 

of  Nero,  L  157  «. 

of  San  Lorenzo,  i  344 

of  Scipio  Africanus,  i.  157 


Digitized  by 


Google 


HTDEX. 


897 


Arch  of  Septimins  Seyerns,  i.  79 ; 

ezeaTation  of  the,  by  the  French, 

ibid ;  rains  of,  i.  190,  841 

of  Tiberius,  i.  197 

ofTitus,  181,341 

of  Trajan,  i.  209  n. 

Archias  the  poet,  villa  of,  ii.  S36 
Archdukes,  palace  and  tomb  of  the, 

at  Florence,  i.  9 
Aricia  or  La  Riccia,  where  Horace 

slept  on  his  way  to  Brundnsium, 

U.  368;  valley  of,  ibid. 
Amo,  i.  21 
Arnold  of  Brescia,  the  champion  of 

civil  and  religious  liberty,  i.  160 
Artists  of  modern  Rome,  ii.  298 
Asbestos,  cloth  of,  impervious  to 

fire,  ii.  34 
Ascanius,  grottos  of,  ii.  363 ;  tomb 

of,  ii.  360 
Asylum   for  outlaws,  consecrated 

by  Romulus,  i.  167 ;  ibid.  n. 
Athenaeum,  or   public    library,  i. 

159 
Augustus,  house  of,  i.  185,  145; 

temple  of  Apollo,  built  by,  i. 

141;    hippodrome   of,    i.    146; 

crimes  of,  i.  254,  n.;  mausoleum 

of,  i.  369;  the  sarcophagus  of, 

i.  370,  birth-place  of,  ii.  369,  n. 
Augustinian  convent,  monks  and 

library  of  the,  ii.  3 
Aurelius,  column  of,  i.  88,  213 
Aventine  Hill,  i.  163 ;  origin  of  ii* 

name,  ibid.;  extent  of,  i.  164; 

church  on  the  summit  of,  1. 165; 

view  from  the,  i.  166;  temples 

on  the,  i.  166, 167 
Aventinns,  King  of  Alba,  i.  163 


Baccano,  near  it  is  obtained  the 
first  view  of  Rome,  i.  61 

Bacchus,  Indian,  statue  of,  i.  101 

Balthazar  Penizzi,  remarkable 
painting  by,  "The  Sibyl  pro- 
phesying  the  birth  of  our 
Saviour,'*  i.  36 

Bambino,  or  infant  Jesns,  remark- 
able image  of,  ii.  16, 17 

Banditti,  ii.  373,  378 ;  imprison- 
ment of,  ii.  379 ;  negotiation  of 
the  Papal  Gk>vemment  with, 
ibid  ;  noted  haunts  of,  i.  89 

Baptistery  of  St.  John  Lateran,  i. 
400 

Barberini  palace,  ii,  106;  piazza^ 
i.  257 

Barbone,  a  noted  chief  of  banditti, 
ii.  878 

Basalt,  Egyptian,  lions  of,  men- 
tioned by  Madame  de  Stifcel,  t 
155 

Basaltic  columns,  i.  43,  46,  51 

Basilicas,  or  ancient  Ronun 
churches,  i.  393,  429 

Basilica  Emilia,  i.  198 

Julia,  i.  196 

of  Livia,  i.  141 

of  Panlus  iEmilitts,   re- 


mains of,  i.  80, 198 

Porcia,  remains  of,  most 


ancient  in  Rome,  i.  191 

of  St  John  Latenin,  i. 


393,  397 

.  of  St.  Peter,  i.  70,  7«» 


423,  426 
of  Santa  Maria  Maggiore, 

i.  428 ;  Christmas  ceremony  in, 

ii.  211 

of  St.  Paul,  i.  430 

of  Santa  Croce,  i.  488 

of  San  Lorenzo,  i.  436 

•  of  San  Sebastiano,  i,  88S> 


435 


Ulpia»  i.  208 


Digitized  by 


Google 


808 


IITDXX. 


Baths  of  Agrippft.  i.  304 

of  CaracaUa,  i.  305 ;  plan  of, 

i.  806 ;  halls  of,  i.  308 ;  statues 

found  in  the,  and  present  pre- 

Yervation  of,  i.  810 
of  ConBtantine,  1.  177,  304; 

ii.  102 
of  Decins,  i.  805 

—  of  Diocletian,  i.  177;  con- 
verted into  a  Christian  church, 
L882 

of  the  Empress  Helena,  i. 

804;  ruins  of  the,  ii.  161 
for  women,  in  Hadrian's  villa, 

U.  325 

of  Nero,  i.  144;  U.  123 

of   St.    Philip,    calcareou 

springs  at,  i.  43 
-*—  of  Tiberius,  i.  141 
of  Titus,  i.  311 ;  vestiges  of, 

L82 
ancient,  of  the  Romans,  i. 

801 ;  uses,  and  remains  of,  i.  302, 

304;  various  kinds  of,  i.  309 

—  antique,  in  the  court  of  the 
Vatican,  i.  95 

Beatrice  Genci,  portrait  of,  by 
Guido,  ii.  103;  history  of,  ii.  104 

Befano,  the,  ii.  235 

Belisarius,  prophetic  warning  of, 
to  Totila,  i.  125;  troops  of, 
lodged  in  the  palace  of  the 
Caesars,  i.  139;  stone,  bearing 
the  inscription  of  the  death  o^ 
i.  121 

Bellona,  temple  of,  i.  251,  254; 
priests  of,  i.  251,  252 

Belvedere,  extensive  view  from,  i. 
165 

museum,  i.  98 

Benediction  of  the  Pope  at  the 
close  of  the  Holy  Week,  ii.  205; 
extent  of  the,  ii.  206 

Bernini,  colonnades  by,  in  St. 
Peter's,  i.  74 ;  statues  by,  i.  23; 
remarkable  group  by,  i.  459 

Besendina,  i.  48 

Bibliotheca  Ulpia,  i.  828 


Boas,  wild,  among  the  Sabine 
Hills,  ii.  296 

Bocca  della  Verity,  a  singular 
stone  in  the  church  of  Santa 
Maria  in  C!osmedin,  i.  284 

Bologna,  John  of,  statue  of  Mer- 
cury by,  i.  7 

cemetery  of,  ii.  290. 

Bolsena  once  destroyed  by  lire 
from  heaven,  i.  48  ;  lake  of,  ib.; 
antiquity  of,  i.  49;  temple  of, 
ibid.;  forest  of,  i.  60,  51 

Bona  Dea,  temple  of,  i.  167;  femide 
freemasonry  of,  ibid. 

Bonaparte,  his  spoliations  in  Italy, 
ii.  383 

Lucien,  ii.  348,  873 

Borghese  palace,  ii.  124 

chapel,  i.  429 

Borgo  San  Spirito,  or  great  hos- 
pital of  Rome,  ii.  28 

Botanical  riches  of  Rome,  ii.  284 

Brickwork,  excellent,  of  the  reigns 
of  Augustus,  Kero,  and  Titus, 
i.  242 

Bridge  ^lius,  i.  334 

of  Caligula,  i.  187 

of  Cestius,  i.  883 

first,  built  of  wood,  i.  881 

of  stone,  i.  382 


of  Fabricius,  mentioned  by 

Horace,  i.  882,  388 ;  ii.  17 

Janiculensis,  L  833 

Milvian,  the  only  bridge 


over  the  Tiber  out  of  Rome, 

i.  334 

Palatine,  i.  832 

of  San  Angelo,  i.  384,  402 

of  Santa  Trinit4,  view  of 


Florence  from  the,  i.  16 
triumphal,  still  visible  on 

the  Tiber,  i.  333 
Bridges,  ancient  and  modem,  i. 

331,  339 
Britons,  sale  of,  in  Rome  as  slaves, 

i.  195;  the  proximate  cause  of 

the  introduction  of  Christianity 

into  this  country,  i.  196 


Digitized  by 


Google 


I9BSX. 


Boll-fight  in  the  ColoflBeum,  L  293 
Buon  Convento,  village  of,  i  39 
Boiattini,  ii.  267 
Burials  in  Borne,  1.  356 ;  ii  288 
Busts,  antique,  ii  69 
— _  of  the  Emperors,  ii.  73 
■  of  the  Poets,  in  the  Pan- 

theon, i.  228 


CABDiKr,  Profane,  in  the  Vatican, 

ii.  37 

Sacred,  in  the  Vatican,  ii.  35 

Oaciis,  cave  of,  i.  165, 169 
CsBsar,  palace  of,i.  139;  apartment 

in,  i.  136 
Cnnaenla,  or  eating  rooms,  1 144 
Gains  Cestius,  pyramids  of,  i.  367, 

369 

■  BailiiUy  the  first  Boman  who 
gained  a  naval  victory,  i.  250 

-  and  Lucius,  colossal  statues 
of,  L  155 

Caligula,  houses  of,  i.  136 ;  bridge 

built  by,  ibid.  n. 
r  OaUimaehus,  L  142 
Cameos,  ii.  812 
Camere  of  Raphael,  ii.  46 
Camnccini,  the  Artist,  ii.  134 ;  his 

fine  cabinet  of  paintings,  ibid. 
Camp  of  Hannibal,  ii.  860,  364 
Praetorian,  of  Domitian,  ruins 

ofthe,  11.360 

for  foreign  soldiers,  i.  173 

Campagna,  view  over  the,  i.  61-64; 

rains  on  the,  i.  378 
Campidpglio,  pUice   of  execution 

for  male&ctors,  i.  75 
Campo    Santo,    or   cemetery    of 

I^iq>les,  ii.  290. 

Vaccine,  i.  76 

Campus  Martins,  i.  70,  88,  119 

Sceleratus,  in  which  the 

Vestal  virgins  were  buried  alive, 

.     i.  124,  270 

■  Ustrinns,  i.  867 


Caaova,  Perseus  and  Pugllisto  of, 
i.  107 ;  the  first  Italian  sculptor 
of  the  age,  ii  298 ;  works  of,  ii. 
299,  301 

Capitol,  modem,  i  75,  )i9;  i»azza 
of  the,  once  the  place  of  ezecntion 
for  malefactors,  ibid.;  tower  of, 
i.  85;  view  of  modem  and 
ancient  Rome  from,  ibid.;  re- 
mains of,  i  153 

Capitoline  Hill,  colossal  statues  on 
the,  i.  155;  temples  and  aUars 
on,  i  156, 159 

Capuchins,  diturch  of  the,  ii  9; 
convent  of,  ii.  362,  367;  museum 
of  bones  of  monks,  ii  11 

Car,  used  in  chariot-races,  model 
of.  in  the  Vatican,  i  264 

Caracalla,  baths  of,  i.  305;  civens 
of,  i  265,  354 

Caracci,  paintings  of,  in  the  palace 
of  Lucien  Bonaparte,  ii.  130 

Caravaggio,  paintings  of.  See 
Paintings* 

Carceres,  divisions  for  cars  in  the 
circus,  ii.  266 

Cardinal,  at  confession,  i  41.8 

Oonsalvo,  i.  455 

Fesch,    his   galleiy   of 

paintings,  ii  135 

Carlo  Maratti,  tomb  of,  i.  326 

Carnival,  festivities  of,  ii.  253,  259 

Carthusians,  church  and  convent 
of,  i  827 

Cartoons  of  Raphael,  i  101 ;  ii  47 

Caryatides,  i  99 

Casa  Romuli,  or  thatched  cottage 
of  Romulus,  i  193 

Cascade,  artificial,  made  by  Sixtus 
v.,  ii.  336 

Cascades  of  Tivoli,  ii.  329 

Casino,  Roman,  description  of,  ii. 
160 

in  the  Borghese  gardens, 

U.  160 

of  Raphael,  ii  166 

Castel.  Qandolfo,  the  summer  resi- 
dence of  the  Pope,  ii.  854 


Digitized  by 


Google 


400 


nrssx. 


GuteUo  Arehione,  gothio  fortreai 

of,  IL  819 
Gtstle  of  Si  Angelo,  i.  408 ;  pre- 

Bont  employment  of,  L  4C4  n.; 

firewcd'ks  from,  at  Easter^  ii.  209  ; 

impriflonmeiit   of    baniUtti   in, 

it  879 
Castor  and  Pollux,  colossal  statues 

of  L  155;  appearance  of,  i  189, 

190;  temple  of,  i.  189;  ancient 

remains  of  the,  ii.  878 
Gaatra  Peregrina,    or   camp    for 

foreign  soldiers,  i.  178 
Catacombs,  extent  and  primary  use 

of,  i  880,  881;  comparison  be- 
tween those  of  Naples  and  Rome, 

ii.882 
Cataracts  of  Tivoli,  ii.  880 
Cathedral  of  Florence,  baptistery 

and  remarkable  gates  of,  i.  12, 16 

ofMUan,  i.  451 

■■     Portuguese,  ceremonies 

in  the,  on  Christmas-eve,  ii.  211 

of  Siena,  1.30 

-of  St.  Peter's  i.  69 


Cathedral  of  Yiterbo,  murder  at 

the  altar  of,  by  De  Montfort,  i.  56 
Cathedrals,  comparative  length  of, 

thronghont  the  world,  i.  416 
Cato,  birth-place  of,  ii.  842 
Catullus,  villa  of,  iL  335 
CavsBdium,  or  corridor  of  Hadrian's 

villa,  ii.  828 
Cave  of  Cacus,  L  165, 169 

of  Sirens,  ii.  329 

Caverns,  immense  natural,  ii.  868 
Caves,  artificial,  ii.  356 
Cecilia  Metella,  tower  of,  i, 

tomb  of,  i.  365,  366 
Cella  Solearis,  i.  308 
Cemeteiy  of  Bologna,  ii.  290    ^ 

of  Florence,  Ii.  290 

of  Naples,  ii.  290 

Cemeteries  of  Italy,  ii.  290 
Cento  Camerelle,  of  Hadrian's  villa, 

u.  826 
Celle,  ruins  on  the  Campagna, 

i878 


86; 


Centaurs  and  LapiUue,  combat  of, 

i.  99 
Centum  Qradus,  the  western  ascent 

of  the  capitol,  i  162 
CesUus,  bridge  of,  L  833 

Chapel  of  the  early  Christians, 
i  320 

of  La  Madonna  del  Tufou 

U.  862 

subterranean,  of  St.  Peter'^ 

L408 

Chariot-races,  description  of,  L  263; 
exhibition  of,  by  Nero,  i.  264 

Charlemagne,  marble  statue  o(  L 
71 

Chartreuse,  retreat  of  Pius  VI.,  in 
exile,  i.  25 

Christ,  fourteen  representations  of, 
bearing  the  cross,  according  to 
Bomish  tradition,  i.  liZ,n,;  the 
true  cross  of,  i.  488 ;  sepulchre 
of,  ii.  189;  ceremony  of  the  en- 
tombment of,  ii.  115, 195;  resur- 
rection of,  iL  201;  miraculous 
discovery  of  the  real  blood  o^  ii. 
232;  alleged  marriage  of,  with 
St  Catherine,  i.  88 

■  ■  painting  of  the  flagellation 
of,  by  Sebastian  del  Piombo,  ii. 
26 

statue  by  Michael  Angelo, 

i.  456 

Christian  church,  i.  198 

Christians,  put  to  death  in  the  Cir- 
cus of  Nero,  i  258;  ten  thou- 
sand  put  to  death  in  one  day, 
i.  432 

Christianity  established  in  Bome, 
i.  129 ;  triumph  of,  i.  334 ;  free- 
dom of,  from  human  samfice,  a 
proof  of  its  divine  origin,  L  258 

Christina,  Queen  of  Sweden,  resi- 
dence o(  ii.  161;  credulity  of, 
ibid. 

Christmas  ceremonies  in  the 
Church  of  Borne,  ii.  211 

Church  of  Ara  Coeli,  i.  154;  ii.  15, 
flight  of  124  steps  ascended  on 


Digitized  by 


Google 


I2n)EX. 


401 


the  knees  by  Julius  Caesar,  ii.  16; 

origin  of  the  name  of,  ii.  17 
Church  of  the  Capuchins,  ii.  10; 

painting     of     the      Archangel 

Alichael    trampling    Satan,    by 

Guide,    ibid.;    ecstacy    of    St. 

Francis,  by  Domenichino,  ibid. 
— of  Franciscan   friars,    at 

Viterbo,  i.  55,  66 

of  Grotta  Ferrata,  ii.  362 

■  of  the  Jesuits,  i.  464 

of  La  Maddalena,  i.  464 

of  St.  Agnes,  i.  440,  441 

of  S.  Alessio,  1.  168 

of  St.  Andrea  deUa  Valle, 

31  ii. 

■■  San  Andrea  al  Noviziato 

de'  PP.  Gesuiti,  i.  454 
-  Santa    Anna,  ii.  263 


sepulchre  of  Christ  in  the,  ii. 

189 

St.  Adrian,  i.  198,  204 

St.  Augustin,  ii.  3 

8.  Antonio  de*  Portoghesi, 

ii.  189 
— —  St.  Bartholomew,  ii.  18 

San  Bernardo,  i.  823 

of  Sta.  Bibiana,  i.  246 

-  of  San  Carlo  al  Catinari,  ii. 


14 


1.460 


-  Santa  Cecilia  in  Trastevere, 


of  St.  Clement,  the  most 


ancient  existing  church  in  the 
world,  i.  488 

•  Sts.  Cosmo  and  Damiano, 


i.  238 


332 


of  Santa  Croce,  i.  433 
S.  Georgio,  at  Tivoli,  ii. 


-  of  St.  John  Lateran,  i.  393, 

396;    remarkable   relics    in,  i. 

398;  baptistery  of,  i.  400 
of    San  Lorenzo  fuori  le 

murll,  erected  by  Constantine,  i. 

436 
San  Luigi  do'  Francesi,  ii. 


Church  of  La  Madonna  de'  Monti. 

1.  174 
della  Villa,  in 

Palestnna,  ii.  372 
of  Santa  Maria  degli  An- 

geli,  i.  825 


ii.  13 


solazione,  i  196 


dell*  Anima, 
della  Con- 
in    Cosme- 

din,  the  supposed  school  of  St. 

Augustin,  i.  233,  234 

Liberatrice, 

di   Loretto, 


i.  80 


1.460 


nerva,  i.  465 


173 


-Maggi^re,  i. 
428;  remarkable  relics  in,  i. 
429,  434;  religious  ceremonies 
in,  on  Christmas-day,  ii.  211 

Bopra     Mi- 


-  Navicella,  i. 

-  della  Pace, 

-  del  Priorata, 
-in  Trastevere 
-of  theTrinia 

-  Vallicella,  H. 


ii.  2 


i.  166,  167 


ii.  13,  28 


de'  Monti,  i.  88 


12 ;  built  by  St.  Filippo  Nerij 

ibid.;    portrait    of,    by  Guido, 

ibid. 
of  SS.  Martin  and  Sylvester, 

i.819 
of  Santa  Martina,  i.  197 

of  Santa  Martina  and  St. 

Luca,  i.  183, 197 

of  San  Nicola  in  Carcere. 

i.249 

--    in   Pane 


Pema,  i.  176 

of  Sant'  Onofrio,  where  the 

remains  of  Tasso  repose,  ii.  24 
2  D 


Digitized  by 


Google 


402 


XNDSX. 


Ohnrch  of  St.  Pitul  faori  le  mxak  i. 

43 
■  alio  ire  fontaae^ 

the  place  of  the  Apostle's  mar- 

tyidom,  i.  482 

of  St.  Peter,  i.   70,  78; 

colonnades  of,  i.  74 ;  erection  of, 
i.  407;  subterranean  chapel  in, 
L  408;  confessionals  of,  1.  415; 
services  in,  during  the  Holj 
Week,  ii.  186, 189;  illumination 
of,  ii.  208 

— —     St.      Pietro^     on     the 
Bsquiline,  i.  456 

St.  Pietro    in   Montorio, 

Tiew  of  ancient  uid  modem 
Borne  from,  ii.  25 

>     ■      Santa  Sabina,  i  168 

of  St.  Sebastian,  i.  388,  435 

of  S.  SUvestro,  i.  819 

of   San  Ste&no,  I  442; 


Botondo,  i.  171 

of  St.  Theodore,  i.  86;  here 

the  twins  were  exposed  and 
suckled  by  the  wolf,  ibid.;  re- 
building of,  193  n. 

St.  Urban  VIII.,  I  886 

Cicero,  connection  of,  with  the 
Boman  forum,  i.  78;  eloquence 
and  fame  of,  i.  79;  murder  of, 
i.  78;  house  of,  i.  129;  Bostrum 
of,  ii.  224;  Tusculum  villa  of,  ii. 
343 ;  school  of,  ii.  344  n. 
Cimabue,  the  father  of  painting, 

i.  35 
Oimlnus,  the  ancient,  i.  57 
Circle,  ancient  symbolical  meaning 

of,  ii.  321 
Circus,  sports  of,  i.  260 ;  the  only 
remaining  one,  i.  264, 265;  right 
of  place  in,  i.  267 

. Agonalis,  games  of,  i.  256 

Flaminius,  i.  256 

of  Caracalla,  i.  265,  354 

of  Flora,  games  of,  exhi- 
bited every  spring  festival,  still 
retained,  i.  267 
——- of  Hadrian,  .258 


Cirous    Maximus,     i.    256,   259; 

260;  plan  of  the,  i.  258 
of  Nero,  i.  267 ;  ChristiaiLs 

put  to  death  in,  i.  258 
of  Sallnst,  i.  257 ;  site  and 

form  of,  i.  269 
Civita  OastelUma,  L  373 
Lavinia,  ii.  368 


Classic  mountains,  i.  89,  90 

Claude  Lorraine,  house  of,  mi^^- 
ficent  view  from,  ii.  11.  See 
Paintings, 

Claudius,  temple  of,  in  Britain, 
near  the  Thames,  i.  213;  banish- 
ment of  the  Jews  from  Borne, 
by,  i.  285;  aqueduct  of,  ii.  338 

Drusus  Nero,  arch  of, 

i.  340 ;  fame  of,  ibid. 

Cleopatra,  beautiful  statue  of,  i.  97 

Clivus  Asyli,  ascent  from  the 
Forum  to  the  altar  of  Bomulus, 
i.  162 

Publicii,  ascent  of  Mount 

Aventine,  i.  165 

Cloaca  Maxima,  most  ancient  of 
the  Boman  remains,  i.  217;  pre- 
sent utility  of,  after  a  lapse  of 
3000  years,  ibid. 

Clodius,  villa  of,  ii.  359 ;  murder 
of,  ibid.  n. 

Cocles,  Horatius,  defence  of  the 
Pons  Sublicius  by,  i.  87 ;  statue 
of,  i.  202 

Coelian  mount,  i.  82;  oonyent  of,  i. 
170,  171;  temples  and  monu- 
ments on  the,  i.  172 

Coins,  Boman,  i.  138 

Cola  di  Bienzi,  abode  of,  i.  447;  cha- 
racter of,  ibid.;  titles  of,  i.  446; 
coronation  of,  i.  448;  rise  and 
fall  of,  ibid. ;  death  of,  i.  449, 450 

Collis  Hortulorum,  (m  the  Pincian 
Hill,  i.  66 

Colonna  palace,  gallery  of,  ii.  100. 
105;  statuary  and  painting  of 
the,  ii.  101,  103 

Colonnades  of  St.  Peter^s,  i.  74; 
the  work  of  Bernini,  ibid. 


Digitized  by 


Google 


INDEX. 


403 


OoloBBal  Btataes,  i.  155, 177;  ii.  63 
Coloeseum,  ruins  of  the,  i.  81 ;  sitn- 
ation  of,  i.  82;  conBecration  of, 
by  Benedict  XIY.,  ibid. ;  dese- 
cration of,  by  the  French,  i.  83 ; 
prophecy  of  Bede  respecting  the, 
i.  286 ;  opening  of,  by  Titus,  i. 
287 ;  architecture  and  plan  of,  i. 
288,  289;  £all  of,  i.  292,  295; 
gigantic  ruins  of,  i.  299 ;  romantic 
Tiew  of,  by  moonlight,  ii.  390 
Columbaria,  or  sepulchral   cham- 
bers, i.  365 
Column  of  Aurelius,  i.  88,  213 

Phocas,  i.  186 

Rostral,  ii.  85 

of  Trajan,  i.  88,  211 

Colnmna  Bellica,  i.  251 ;  the  ab- 
surdly reputed,  ii.  103 
Columns,  aatique,  i.  431 
— —  Corinthian,   of  Grecian 
marble,  i.  79,  185;  dispute  re- 
specting, i.  187 
Combats  of  wild   beasts,  i.  290; 
Christians  exposed  to  the  rage 
of,  i.  291 
Comedy,  Roman,  i.  275 
Comitium,  the,  i.  187,  203 
Commerce  of  Italy,  ii.  93 
Commodus  fights  as  a  gladiator, 
i.  291 ;  body  of,  hurled  from  the 
Pons  Sublicius,  i.  331 
Commons,  want  of,  ii.  247 
Concord,  temple  of,  i.  185,  199 
Confessionals  in  St.  Peter's,  i.  415, 
Confefasors,  i.  416,  417;  ii.  202 
Constantia,  one  of  the  first  Chris- 
tian princesses  in  the  world,  i. 
100 
Constantino  the  Great,  arch  of,  i, 
876;  marble  statue  of,  i.  71; 
hipi>odrome    of,    i.    378,    441; 
defeat  of  Hazentius  by,  i.  384; 
church  erected  over  the  tomb  of 
St.  Paul,  by,  i.  480;  mother  of, 
1.  379  n. 
Census,  altar  of,  on  the  Metae,  i.  259 
Oonyents,  existing  number  of,  in 


Rome,  ii.  213 ;  general  pnctke 

of  retiring  to,  ii.  223 
Convents  of  Viterbo,  twenty-eight 

in  number,  i.  63 
Convent  of  Carthusians,  i.  25 

of  the  Chartreuse,  i.  26  - 

of  Greek  Basiliean  monks 


at  Grotta  Ferrata,  ii.  350,  361 

of  Passionist  friars,  ii.  864 

of  Penitents,  ii.  366 

of  St.  Augustin,  ii.  8 

of  Santa  Croce,  i.  436 

of  St.  Gregory,  ii.  6;  le- 


markable  frescos  in,  ii.  6 

of  St.  John,  i.  82 ;  ii.  228 

-  of  Santa  Maria  dell'  Im- 


prunata,  1.  25;  famous  image  of 

the  Virgin  in  the,  1.  26 

of  St.  Paul,  i.  82 ;  ii.  223 

of  Santa  Rosa,  i.  54 

of  S.  Sylvestro,  ii.  213; 


ceremony  of  tiding  the  veil  in, 
ii.  215,  218 

of  Santa  Theresa,  ii.  221 

Sepolto  Vivo,  in  which 


contumacious   nuns  «re   impri- 
soned, ii.  221 

of  Tor'  de'  Specchl,  ii.  222 

of  the  Vallombrosa,  i.  21 


Conversazioni,  ii.  259 

Cora,  ancient  city  of,  ii.  369 ;  anti- 
quities of,  ii.  370 

Corsini  chapel,  in  the  church  of 
St.  John  Lateran,  i.  396;  palaee, 
ii  187 

palace  of,  ii.  189 

Cono,  &e  principal  street  of  the 
city  of  Rome,  i.  66;  ii.  256 

Cosmo  de'  Medicis,  tomb  of,  at 
Florence,  i.  11;  character  and 
fame  of,  ibid;  i.  12 

Criminals,  public  execution  of,  ii. 
268 

Critics,  court  of,  instituted  by  Au- 
gustus, i.  142 

Cross,  illuminated,  in  St.  Peter's, 
ii  188;  illustrious  votaries  of 
the,  ibid. 

2  D  2 


Digitized  by 


Google 


4M 


HTDEX. 


Curia  or  Soman  Benate-houec^  i.  80 
Calabra,  where  the  priefits 

made  their  astronomical  obsenra- 

tions  to  fix  the  Ides  and  Nones, 

i.  158 
Hostilia,  the  senate-house  of 

TuUus  Ho8tiliu8,i.  171--174 

Julia,!.  188 

of08tia,ii.  887 

Curiatii,  tomb  of  the,  ii.  360 
Curius  Dentatus,  humble  abode  of, 

ii.  842 
Custom-house,  on  the  Soman  fron- 
tier, i.  43,  44 

at  Rome,  i.  ^& 

Cyclopean  walls,  ii.  869,  371 
Cjrbele,  first   temple  of,    i.   143; 
jmnual  feast  of,  ii.  259 


D. 

Dancing  ?aun,  statue  of  the,  i.  4 
Dante,  portrait  of,  i.  16;  inspired 

muse  of,  i.  18 
Decius,  baths  of,  i.  304 
Deity,  statue  of  the,  i.  14 
Delubrum,  a  temple  dedicated  to 

many  gods,  i.  224 
Depraved  state  of  morals  in  Borne, 

ii..245 
Diana,  temple  of,   i.    166,    1G9 ; 

prayer  of  Gracchus  in  the,  i.  170; 

statue  of,  ii.  63;  bronze  sculp- 
ture of,  as  the  Pagan  Trinity,  ii. 

72;  baths  of,  ii.  357;  tower  of, 

ii.  367 
Diocletian,  parentage  of,  i.  320,  n; 

baths  of,  i.  323 ;  massacre  of  his 

subjects  by,  1.  328 
Discobolus,  statue  of  the,  i.  101 
— in  the  Palazzo  Massimi, 

ii.  113 
Disputed  columns,  the,  i.  187, 189 
Dogana,    on  the  Soman  frontier, 

i.  43,44;  of  Some,  i.  66 


Domenichino,  frescos  of,  ii.  6,  13,. 
24.  Seei^rftrcoes;  paintings  «f, 
ii.  88,  95,  125,  145,  153,  154. 
Sec  Paintings ;  remnants  of  the 
frescos  of,  ii.  351,  352 
Domitian,  tomb  of  the  family  of, 
i.  120;  celebrated  ancestor  of, 
i.  190  n;  only  statue  of,  ii  166 : 
villa  of,  ii.  359 ;  nymphamn  of, 
ii.  357;  camp  of,  ii.  360 
Doria,  palace  of,  u.  94 ;  gallery  of, 

ii.  95,99 
Dramas,  first  performed  in  Greece, 
and  in  Some,  i.  275  ;  invention 
of,  traced  to  Egypt,  ibid;  present 
state  of  in  Italy,  ii.  269 ;  sacred, 
ii.  268 
Duilius,  the  first  Soman  who  ob- 
tained a  naval  triumph,  i.  250 
Dying  Ghidiator,  statue  of,  ii.  79, 
82;    Winkelman's    opinion    of, 
ibid,  n. 


Early  Christians,  martyrdom  of 
the,  i.  291,  321,  432;  altar  of,  in 
the  Church  of  St.  Sylvester, 
i.  320 ;  place  of  concealment  of, 
i.  380;  chapel  of,  i.  882;  ex- 
posed to  the  wild  beasts,  i.  291 

Easter  Sunday,  festival  of,  ii.  203 

Egeria,  fountain  of,  i.  384  ;  grotto 
of,  i.  385 ;  supposed  transforma- 
tion of  the  nymph,  ii.  368 

Egina  Marbles,  ii.  313;  discovery 
of,  ii.  314,  316;  interesting 
group  of,  ii.  315 

Egypt,  Obelises  of,  i.  259;  brought 
to  Some,  i.  851,  855 

Egyptian  ancient  sculpture,  ii.  65 
Caryatides,  of  granite, 


supposed  to  represent  AntinoUs 

as  a  priest,  i.  99, 100 

lions  in  basalt,    i.  155 

obelisk  of  granite,  i  6jf 


N 


Digitized  by 


Google 


iin)Ex. 


405 


Egyptian  temple,  ii.  325 

JEjmissarium,  the,  or  outlet  to  the 
Alban  Lake,  ii.  855 

ISmeiald  plasm,  sculpture  in,  ii. 
168 

Eminentissimi,  a  title  given  to 
Cardinals,  ii.  177 

Emperors,  busts  of  the,  ii.  73,  74 

— forums  of  the,  i.  214 

— statues  of  the,  i.  98 

Empress  Helena,  said  to  kaye  been 
an  Englishwoman,  i.  879.  n; 
ohurch  of  Santa  Croce  built  by,  i. 
438 ;  relics  from  the  Holy  Land, 
collected  by,  i.  484;  sarcophagus 
of,  i.  100 

Eficsenia,  celebration  of  the,  at 
Hadrian's  villa,  ii.  325 

Ennius,  the  first  poet  of  Eome, 
i.  166 

Epiphany,  festa  of  the,  ii.  235 

Equestrian  statue  of  Trajan,  i.  210 

of  Marcus  Aure- 

lius,  i.  76 

Esculapius,  temple  of,  in  the  sacred 
island,  ii.  18 

Esquiline  Hill,  ruins  of,  i.  178, 
174;  derivation  of  its  name, 
i.  175 ;  palace  of  Tullius  on  the 
summit,  i.  174 ;  Imperial  dwel- 
lings on,  ibid  ;  ii.  161 

Eternal  Father,  statue  of  the,  i.  14 

Etruria,  i.  49 

Etrurians,  obscurity  of  their  his- 
toiy,  i.  49;  cultivation  of  the 
fine  arts  by,  i.  50 ;  ii.  70 

Etruscan  yascs,  i.  6 

sculpture,  ii.  313 

statue,  i.  193 


356 


-  system  of  engineering,  ii. 


Euripus,  canal  round  the  circus,  i. 

260 
Executions,  public  at  Itome,  pre- 

noiis  to  the  carnival,  ii.   258, 

259 


Fabius,  the  Roman  Consul,  i.  57 
"■  the  censor,  arch  of,  i.  199 

Fabii,  arch  of  the,  i.  183 

Fabricius,  bridge  of,  mentioned  by 
Horace,  i.  332 ;  ii.  17 

Falconieri  PaUce,  paintings  in,  ii. 
183,  135 

Fantoccini,  or  Burattini,  Italian 
puppet-dramas,  ii.  267 

Farce,  Oscan,  or  Atellanas,  plays 
performed  by  young  Roman 
amateurs,  i.  274 

Farm,  Sabine,  of  Horace,  ii.  337 

Famese,  Popes  and  Princes,  i. 
189  ;  gardens,  i.  140,  143 ;  con- 
vent, ibid;  palace,  ii.  142 

Famesinay  painted  hall  of  the,  ii. 
140 

Fasti  Consulares.  ii.  87 

Faun,  Dancing,  statue  of,  i.  4 

Ferentinum,  modern  Marino,  foun- 
tain and  temple  of,  ii.  353 

Feri80  Latinaj,  i.  89;  celebration 
of  the,  ii.  363 

Festa  of  the  Annunciation,  ii.  177 

of  the  Epiphany,  ii.  285 

Festival  of  St.  Peter's,  ii.  208 
Festini,  or  public  masked  balls,  ii. 

257 
Feudal  ruins,  i.  391 
wars,  of  the  Homan  nobles, 

i.  139 
Fiano  Palace,  ii.  93 
Ficus  Naevia,  i.  194 

Ruminails,  the  tree  beneath 

which  Romulus  and  Remus  were 
nurtured  by  a  wolf,  i.  86,  192—4 

Fiesole,  romantic  situation  of,  i.  17 : 
convent  on  the  summit  of,  once 
the  residence  of  Milton,  i.  21 

Filatrice,  statue  of,  ii.  307 

FilippoNeri,  St.,mii'acle  performed 
by,  ii.  113 


Digitized  by 


Google 


406 


uxumx. 


Fine  Arts,  pre-eminence  of  the,  i. 
18,  20 ;  academy  of,  i.  83,  35  ; 
general  adaptation  of,  by  the 
ancients,  ii.  70^  71 ;  cultivation 
of,  in  Rome,  ii.  309,  312; 
parsimony  of  the  British  gorem- 
liient  in  all  that  relates  to,  ii. 
133,  317 

FlaminiuB,  circus  of,  i.  256 

Flavian  Amphitheatre,  See  Colos- 
seum. 

Flora,  a  favourite  goddess  among 
the  Romans,  i.  257;  games  in 
honour  of,  ibid 

Floralia,  or  games  of  Flora,  i.  257 

Florence,  i.  12,  17  ;  the  Athens  of 
Italy,  i.  18 ;  museum  of,  i.  6,  9 ; 
cathedral  of,  i.  12, 13 ;  sculptured 
altar-piece  of  ditto,  by  Michel 
Angelo,  i.  14 ;  gates  of  ditto, 
representing  the  histoiy  of  the 
Old  and  New  Testament,  i.  15  ; 
last  view  of,  i.  21 ;  residence  of 
Milton,  in  the  vicinity  of,  i.  21 ; 
hospital  of,  ii.  229 ;  cemetery  of, 
ii.  290  ;  mosaics  of,  ii.  311 

Florentine  gallery  of  sculpture,  i. 
1,  5,  92 

Florentini  theatre  of  Naples,  ii.  264 

Fons  Olei,  or  fountain  of  sacred  oil, 
ii.  23 

Fontana  di  Felice  or  di  Termini, 
ii.  30 

Paolina,  ii.  28 

in  the  Piazza  Barberini, 

ii.32 

of  the  Piazza  Navona,  i. 

854,  ii.  31 

of  St.  Peter's,  ii.  32 

di  Termini,  so  contrived 


as  to  overflow  during  the  heat  of 

summer,  ii.  31,  32 
Fonte  Gerulo,  ancient  fountain  of 

Egeria,  ii.  368 
Fora  Civilia,  for  the  transaction  of 

public  business,  i.  182 
or  Fonims,  of  which  there 

were  anciently  two  kinds,  i.  182 


Fora  Yenaliay  a  market,  L  182 

Fomarina,  the  beloved  mistrew  of 
Raphael,  portrait  of,  i.  5,  6 

Fortune,  Temple  of,  inscriptioa  on 
the,  i.  185,  n ;  statue  of,  in  tiie 
Vatican,  i.  93 

Forum  of  Antoninus  Pius,  i.  211; 
remains  of,  converted  into  a 
Custom-house,  i.  212 

— —  of  Augustuai,  i.  205 

Boarium,  or  cattle-market, 

description  of,  i.  214,  215;  living 
sacrifices  offered  in  the,  L  216, 
217 

of  Julius  Csesar,  i.  204 

of  Mars,  i.  205 

of  Nerva,  i.  205  ;  remains 

of,  still  extant,  i.  205,  207 

Olitorium,  i.  249 

of  Peace,  i.  205,  241,  ». 

Populi,  ii.  363 

Roman,  degradati(m  of,  to 

a  cattle  market,  i.  76;  Corinthian 
columns,  triumphal  arches,  and 
ruined  temples  in,  i.  77;  plan 
of  the,  179,  188,  191 ;  in  tiie 
plain  of  this  Forum  was  fought 
the  battle  between  the  ravishers 
of  the  Sabine  women  and  their 
foes,  i.  86 ;  remarkable  buildings 
of,  i.  190,  202;  ruins  of,  i.  190, 
199;  lakes,  gulf^,  groves,  &c.  of,  i. 
201,  202 ;  remarkable  scenes  in, 
i.  78,  203;  visit  to,  by  moon- 
light, ii.  391 

of  Trajan,  piazza  of,  exca- 
vated by  the  French,  i.  207, 208; 
erection  of,  by  Apollodorus,  i. 
209;  library  of,i.  210;  statues  of,, 
i.  211 

Forums  of  the  Fmperors,  i.  214 

Forum&  of  Greece  and  Rome  com^ 
pared,  i.  182 

Fossa  Cluilia,  i.  391 ;  scene  of  the 
combat  between  the  Horatii  and 
Curiatii,  ii.  360 

Quiritium,  i.  115 

Fountain  of  Juturna,  i.  219 


Digitized  by 


Google 


INSBX. 


407 


FonntAin  Of  Meta  Sadans,  i.  299 
— —  of  the  Aqua  Ferentinee, 

u.  353 
of  the  nymph  Bgeria,  i. 

384 ;  medicinal  properties  of  its 

waters,  ibid. 

-  of  the  Tartarache,  in  the 


Piazza  Mattel,  ii. 
•  of  Trevi,  ii. 


Fountains  of  Rome,  ii.  29.  32 

Fraacati,  i.  62  ;  modem  road  to,  i. 
389,  ii.  340 ;  origin  of  the  name, 
ibid, ;  viJlas  of,  ii.  341;  extensive 
view  from,  ii.  347 

French  taste  in  converting  the 
Boman  Forum  into  a  promenade, 
1.179 

academy,    established  in 

Some,  ii,  163;  occupation  of 
Italy  by  the,  i.  180,  ii.  174; 
desecration  of  the  Colosseum  by 
the,  L  83 

Frescoes  by  Albani,  '  Centaur  car- 
rying off  Dejanira,  and  Hercules 
slaying  him  with  an  arrow,'  ii. 
117. 

■  by  Agostino  Caracci,  '  Tri- 

umph of  Galatea ;'  '  Aurora  car- 
rying off  Cephalus,''  ii.  142. 

by  Annibale    Caracci,    of 


the '  Eternal  Father,'  ii.  17; '  Tri- 
umph of  Bacchus  and  Ariadne,' 
ii.  142 ;  '  Perseus  and  Andro- 
meda,' ii.  143 ;  '  Nymph  and 
Unicom,'  ibid. 

-  by  Camuccini, '  Marriage  of 


Cupid  and  Psyche,'  ii.  133, 

by  Daniel  da  Volteria,  ii. 

141. 

'  by  Domenicheno,  '  Martyr- 
dom of  St.  Sebastian,'  i.  326; 
''The  Angel  presenting  crowns 
to  St.  Cecilia  and  Valerian,'  ii. 
4 ;  '  Death  of  St.  Cecilia/  ibid. ; 
'  Flagellation  of  St.  Andrew,'  ii. 
6;  'Flagellation  and  Glorifica- 
tion of  St.  Andrew,'  ii.  13 ; '  The 
Four   Evangelist 8^'  ibid;  'The 


Cardinal  Yirtnes/  ii.  14; '  David 
dancing  before  the  ark,'  ibid.; 
Judith  with  the  head  of  Holo- 
femes,'  ibid. ; '  Esther  before  Aha- 
suems,'  ibid. ;  '  Solomon  and  the 
Queen  of  Sheba,'  ibid ;  '  The  As- 
sumption/ ibid;  'Baptism  of 
Si  Jerome/  ii.  25 ;  '  St  Jerome 
tempted  by  the  Devil/  ibid.; 
'  St.  Jerome  scourged  by  Angels,* 
ibid. ;  *  Apollo/  ii.  117  ;  *  Time 
seizing  hold  of  Tmth,'  ibid; 
'  Baehael  and  Jacob/'  u.  18 ; 
minsof  18  frescoes,  ii.  351. 
Frescoes  by  Giotto,  *  St.  Peter 
walking  on  the  waves,'  in  the 
church  of  the  Capuchins,  ii,  10. 
by  Guercino,  'Aurora,'  in 


the  villa  Ludovisi,  ii.  149,  150. 

by  Guide, '  Flagellation  of 

St.  Andrew,*  ii.  6 ;  '  Angel  and 
Beggars  at  dinner  with  St. 
Gregory/  ii.  7;  'Choir  of  An- 
gels,' ibid. ; '  The  Annunciation/ 
ii.  145 ;  'Aurora/  ii.  147, 

by  Giulio  Bomano,  ii.  162 

by    Lanfranco,    '  Polyphe- 


mus and  Galatea,'  ii.  117. 

by  Michael  Angelo,  'The 

Last  Judgment,'  ii.  40,  42 ;  '  Si- 
byls and  Prophets,'  ii  42 ;  '  The 
Eternal  Father/  ibid.;  'The 
Creation  of  Man  and  Woman,' 
ibid. ;  Expulsion  from  Paradise/ 
ibid.;  ' Paradise/ ibid. 

by  Balthasar  Perazzi, '  Tho 

Presentation  in  the  Temple,'  ii. 
141. 

by  Pietro  di  Cortona, '  The 


Archangel  bearing  the  symbols 
of  our  Saviour's  Passion  to  Hea- 
ven/ ii.  12. 

by  Raphael,  '  Burning  of 

the  Borgo  San  Spirito ;'  '  Libe- 
ration of  St.  Peter  from  Ptison;' 
*  School  of  Athens,'  ii.  48 ;  '  Co- 
ronation of  Charlemagne  by  Leo 
III./ ii.  ^9;  'Dispute  upon  the 


Digitized  by 


Google 


40S. 


I^fPSX. 


Sftcrament/  ii.  51 ;  '  ApoUo  on 
Mount  Parnassus,'  ibid. ;  *  Mi- 
racle of  Botoena/  ibid. ;  '  Meet- 
ing of  Attila  with  Pope  Leo  I.,' 
ibid. ;  '  Expulsion  of  Heliodorus 
from  the  Temple  by  Angels/  ii. 
52 ;  '  Cupid  and  Payche/  ii.  140  ; 
'Nuptials  of  Alexander  the 
Qreat  and  Boxana,'  ii.  157. 

Funeral  of  a  cardinal,  it  298 

Funerals,  origin  of  the  term,  i. 
866 ;  early  practice  of  parrying 
lights  at,  still  enforced  by  Boman 
Catholics,  ibid. 

— —  in  Borne,  ii.  288 ;  simi- 
larity between  the  modem  and 
ancient  processions,  ii.  289 

Fnrietti  mosaic,  the,  found  in 
Hadrian's  Tilla»  ii.  72 


Gabu,  the  ancient,  i.  89 
Qabinetto  di   Kerone,  or  balcony 
whence  Nero  riewed  the  circus 
games,  i.  145 
Oabinus,  yillaof,  ii.  345 
Galileo,  monument  of,  i.  12 
Gallery,  geographical,  in  the  Vati- 
can, i.  101 
of  paintings  in  the  Va- 


tican, i.  103 

-  of  Statues,  i.  07 


Gallienus,  arch  of,  i.  844 
Gambling,  in  Borne,  ii.  295 
Games,  Agonal,  i.  257 
—- of  the  Amphitheatre,  i.  290; 

total  abolition  of,  i.  301 
of  the  Circus,  i.  260,  261 ; 

signal  for  commencing,  i.  262 
-  of  Flora,  i.  257 


—  Javanese,  i.  300 
—  Secular,     in     honour 


of 


Apollo,  i.  269 
of  Trastevere,  ii.  21 


Gardens,  Boighese,  iL  158,  SCO 

— — —  of  Julius  Cffisar,  ii.  157 

Gaspar  Poussin,  landscapes  painted 
by,  L  319 

Gate  of  Pompeii,  i.  356 

triumphal,  at  the  end  of  the 

Circus,  i  26<{ 

Gates  of  Borne,  i.  117,  128,  124, 
125;  ancient  inscriptions  on  the 
Porta  Maggiore,  i.  117,  n;  at 
the  Porta  Pinciana  is  an  inscrip- 
tion to  Belisarius,  i.  121 

Gauls^  defeat  of  the,  by  the  intrepid 
Manlius,  i.  837 

Gems,  ii.  812 

Genezzano,  a  town  near  Palestrina, 
ii.  372 ;  miiacolous  Madonna  of, 
ibid. 

Gensano,  a  town  on  the  lake  of 
Nemi,  ii.  368 

Genseric  the  Vandal,  iuTasion  of 
Borne  by,  i.  124;  pillage  of  the 
palace  of  the  Caesars  by,  i.  189 ; 
spoils  taken  from  the  Pantheon 
by,  i.  227 

Germanicus,  enthusiasm  of  the 
people  at  the  supposed  recovery 
of,  i.  226,  «.;  arch  of,  i.  344, 
845 

Germany,  music  of,  ii.  262 

Ghetto,  the  quarter  where  the  Jews 
are  compelled  to  reside  in  Borne, 
i.  284 

Giotto,  the  Siencse  painter,  sculp- 
tor, and  architect,  origin  and 
fame  of,  i.  35 

Girandola,  the,  ii.  208 

Giuliano  de'  Medici,  assassination 
of  in  the  Cathedral  of  Florence, 
i.  14 

Gladiators,  combats  of,  i.  84 ;  shows 
of,  i.  204;  death  of,  i.  292;  ex- 
pensive  exhibition  of,  by  Caesar, 
in  the  Circus,  i.  261 ;  senators, 
and  women  of  rank  fought 
as,  i.  262 ;  statue  of  the  Dying' 
Gladiator,  ii.  79,  82 

Glass,  use  of  by  the  ancients,  i. 


Digitized  by 


Google 


INDEX. 


409 


182;  discovery  of,  at  Hercnlft- 
neum,  ibid. 

Glazing,  art  of,  when  introduced, 
i.  132 

Golden  house  of  Nero,  i.  186-137 

Goldoni,  plays  of,  ii.  264,  265, 
267 

Good  Friday,  services  on,  in  Roman 
Catholic  churches,  ii.  191 

Gothic  architecture,  i.  73 

Government  of  Italy,  ii.  380,  382 

Gracchi,  the,  i.  196 

Gracchus,  prophetic  prayer  of,  ful- 
filled in  Rome's  debasement, 
i.  170 

GrsBooBtasis,  or  hall  for  foreign 
ambassadors,  i.  190, 191,  n. 

Grecian  architecture,  i.  78 

Graces,  ancient  group  of, 

1.32 

.— .  sculpture,  i.  3,  4  ;  ii.  113 

statues,  the  pride  of  Flo- 
rence, i.  2 

Greece,  forums  of,  i.  182 

Gregory  the  Great,  remarks  of,  in 
the  slave  market,  i.  195,  196 

Grotto  of  Bgeria,  i.  385,  ii.  868 

—  Ferrata,  ii.  850;  convent 

of  Greek  monks  in  the,  ii.  351 
-of  Neptune,  ii.  329,  388, 


337 

Gvottos  of  Ascanins,  ii.  363 
of  Albano,  plan  of  the,  ii. 

^58 
Grove  of  Laurels,  on  the  Aventine, 

i.  163 
Sacred,  of  the  vestal  virgins, 

i.  192 
of  Virbius,  beautiful  prospect 

from  the,  ii.  367 
Guard,    PraBtorian,    ruins    of  the 

quarters  of  the,  ii.  824 
Ouido  di  Siena,  i.  34  ;  frescoes  of, 

ii.  6.  See  Frescoes ;  remarkable 

painting     by,     the    Arehangel 

trampling  upon  Satan,  ii.   10 ; 

f>aintings  of,  ii.  89,  183,  184, 

146, 147.    See  Paintings. 


GnlfofOnrtius,  1.202 
Gymnasium,  or  Paleestra,  arena  of, 
i.  325 


H. 

Habits  and  food  of  the  Italians, 
ii.  294,  295 

Hadrian,  splendid  temple  erected 
by,  i.  244 ;  inhuman  murder  of 
the  artist  who  ci-iticised  the  plan, 
i.  209,  244 ;  death  of  the  wife  of, 
i.  245;  patronage  of  arts  and 
letters  by,  i.  245 ;  ii.  72 ;  circus 
of,  1.  258  ;  tomb  of,  i.  404;  villa 
of,  ii.  321 ;  mosaic  found  in  the, 
ii.  72 ;  mausoleum  of,  i.  370 

Hair  of  a  Roman  lady  found  in  a 
tomb  in  the  Appian  way,  ii.  37 

Hannibal,  retreat  of,  from  Rome, 
temple  in  honour  of,  i.  387 ; 
camp  of,  i.  388,  ii.  860 

Hall  of  Animals,  in  Uie  Vatican, 
i.  96 

oftheBiga,  i.  100 

of  the  Grecian  cross,  i.  99, 

100 

of  Inscriptions,  in  the  museum 

of  the  Capitol,  ii.  66,70 

of  the  Muses,  i.  98,  99 

of  Niobe,  i.  7. 

of  the  great  Porphyiy  vase,  i. 

199 

Hawkswood,  Sir  John,  i.  IS 

Heliogabalns,  Baths  of,  i.  310; 
body  of,  hurled  from  the  Pons 
Sublicius,  i.  331 ;  hippodrome  of, 
i,  146 

Herculaneum,  library  at,  i.  136 

Hercules,  great  altar  of,  i.  285  ; 
temple  of,  ii.  332 ;  town  sacred 
to,  ibid;  remains  of  the  temple 
of  11.369 

Hills,  the  seven,  i.  127 


Digitized  by 


Google 


410 


imiBX. 


Hippodrome,  the  place  appointed 

for  chariot  races,  i.  255 
— — of   Constantme,  i. 


441 


u.  322 


146 


■  of  Hadrian's  villa, 
of  Heliogabalus,  i. 


Historic  scenery,  i.  62,  63,  89 ;  ii. 
365 

from  the  Pala- 
tine, i.  147,  148 

Holy  days,  obserrance  of,  in  Borne, 
ii,  235 

doors,  i.  421,  422 

Sepulchre,  i.  149 

staircase,  which  Christ  de- 
scended from  the  judgment  seat 
of  Pilate,  i.  398 

week,  services  of  the,  ii.  183, 

202 

years,  invented  by  Boniface 

VIII,  i.  421,  422 

Homes  of  the  Italians,  ii.  292 

Honorius,  games  of  the  amphi- 
theatre abolished  by,  i.  300 

Horace,  Sabine  farm  of,  ii.  329; 
villa  of,  ii.  335 

Horatii,  tomb  of  the,  ii.  860 

Horse-races  during  the  Carnival, 
ii.  267 

Horses,  Bomish  ceremony  of  bles- 
sing, ii.  233 

Hospital  of  Florence,  ii.  229 

of  Hadrian's  villa,  ii.  323 

■  of  San  Spirito,  at  Bome, 

ii.  229 


of  the  TriniUfc  de'  Pelle- 
grini, here  pilgrims  are  lodged 
during  the  holy  week,  ii.  196 
Hospitals,    Italian,    situation  and 

character  of,  ii.  229 
House  of  Augustus,  i.  135, 145 

of  Claude  Lorraine,  ii.  11 

of  Meceenas,  i.  312 

of  Nero,  i.  136,137 

of  Nicholas  Poussin,  ii.  11 

of  Ovid,  site  of  the,  i.  159 


House  of  Pilate,  i.  445 ;  insoriptiflii 
upon  the,  i.  446;  the  resideaee 
of  Cola  di  Bienzi,  i.  447 

of  Plautius  Lateranus,  i.  398 

ofPliny,  i.  175 

of  Baphael,  ii.  147 

of  St.  Catherine,  i  38 

of  SaUust,  I  270 

of  Salvator  Bosa,  ii.  12 

of  the  Scipios,  i.  179;  ii.  103 

of  Tiberius,  i.  136,  146 


of  Virgil,  i.  175 

of  the  Virgin,  i.  434 


Houses  of  ancient  Borne,  i.  130 

of  Caligula,  i.  136 

of  Pompeii,  i.  131 

of  the  ancients,  i.  133,  ld4; 


methods  of  warming,  as  related 
by  Virgil  and  Horace,  ibid. 

Human  sacrifices,  i.  254 

Hunting,  ii.  236,  237,  296 


loHNOoBAPHT,  or  plan  of  Borne,  i. 
188,  n. 

Iliac  table,  representii^  the  prin- 
cipal scenes  of  the  Iliad,  ii.  71 

Illumination  of  St.  Peter's,  and 
fireworks  from,  ii,  200 

Image,  miradulous,  in  St.  Peter's^ 
i.  413 

Immorality  of  the  middle  classes 
in  Bome,  ii.  250,  251 

Imperial  Palace,  baths  of  the,  i, 
140, 141 

Improvisatore,  Sgricci,  the  celebra- 
ted, ii.  273 

Improvisatori,  academy  of  in.-  Bome, 
ii.  272,  276 

Improvisatrice,  ii.  276,  277 

Indolence  of  the  Italians,  ii.  287, 
296 

Indulgences,  sale  of  inthechorehes 
of  Bome,  i.  398,  419,  420,  n. 


Digitized  by 


Google 


ISfSXX. 


411 


Indulgences  promised  to  the  to- 
t&ries  of  the  black  cross  in  the 
arena  of  the  Colosseum,  i.  83 

. plenaiy,  ii.  19  ;  theo- 
logical conference  respecting, 
ibid. 

Inquisition  of  Rome,  i.  455,  ii. 
309  ;  founder  of  the,  i.  169 

Inscriptions,  hall  of,  ii.  66,  70 

Instruments  used  in  sacrifice,  com- 
pared with  those  now  used  in 
Boman  churches,  i.  216 

Interment  of  Christ  on  Holy  Thurs- 
day, iL  195 

Isis,  temple  of,  i.  166;  fine  Grecian 
Btatue  of,  ii.  77  ,*  ancient  statue 
of,  ii.  167 

Island,  Sacred,  i.  87 ;  ii.  18,  387 

Italy,  scenery  of,  i.  28,  379;  palaces 
of,  ii.  91,  92 ;  commerce  of,  ibid ; 
occupation  of  by  the  French,  ii. 
174;  gardens  of,  ii.  159;  hospi- 
tals of,  ii.  229;  superstitious 
character  of  the  inhabitants,  ii. 
284;  vexatious  imposts  in,  ii, 
881 

Italian  character,  ii.  20,  248 ;  cook- 
exy,  ii.  293 ;  literature,  ii.  282 ; 
marriages,  ii.  243;  nobility  ii. 
98,  245,  246,  248;  peasantry, 
i.  272;  preachings,  ii.  193; 
servants,  ii  125;  women,  ii. 
>  219 

Intermontium,  in  which  stood  the 
Zelum  consecrated  by  Romulus, 
1.167 

Island  of  Ponzo,  to  which  the  early 
Romans  were  exiled,  ii.  360 

Itinerant  mumcians,  ii.  261 


Jani  of  ancient  Rome,  i.  215 
Janiculum,  mount,  i.  87, 114, 166, 
206 


JTanus,  arch  of,  i.  343 

Quadrifrontis,  ruin  of,  i.  214 

Jews,  Roman,  i.  284,  285 ;  banish- 
ment of,  by  Claudius,  ibid; 
baptism  of,  during  the  Holy  Week 
in  Rome,  ii.  198 

John  of  Bologna,  fiune  of,  i.  7 

Jugurtha,  imprisonment  and  death 
of,  i.  160 

Julius  Caesar,  birth  place  of,  i.  175; 
temple  of,  converted  into  a  slave 
market,  i.  196;  forum  of,  i. 
204 ;  descent  of,  from  the  god^ 
dess  Yenus,  i.  248,  n ;  exhibition 
of  gladiators  by,  i.  261;  hia 
value  of  time,  ibid ;  divorce  of 
the  wife  of,  i.  167;  monument 
of,  i.  459 

Juno  Lucina,  beautiful  statue  of,  in 
the  Villa  Albani,  ii.  166 

Jupiter,  remarkable  statue  of,  in 
the  Vatican,  i.  97 

Capitolinus,  temple  of,   i. 

75 ;  statue  of,  i.  154 

Feretrius,  i.  153,  164 

OptimuB  Maximus,  i.  200 

Stator,  templo  of,  i.   152, 

n  ;  the  first  temple  dedicated  ta 
that  g^d  in  Rome,  i.  80 

Tonans,  temple  of,  i.   79 ; 

statue  of,  ii.  169 

-  Viminalis,  altar  of,  i.  177 


Justinian,  Pandects  of,  i.  12 
Jutuma,  lake  of,  i.  190;  miraculous 
appearance  of  Castor  and  Pollux, 
twice  on  the  margin  of  the,  ibid; 
fountain  of,  i.  219 


K. 

Kino  of  Spain,  residence  of  the, 

in  Rome,  i.  168 
Knights  of  Malta,  church  in  Rome^ 

belonging  to  the,  i   167;  gar- 

dens  of,  ibid. 


Digitized  by 


Google 


412 


I^PEX. 


IiACUB»  i.  187 
Ladies,  litenury,  ii.  249 
Lago  di  Patria,  1.  361 
Lake,  Alban,  ii.  355,  366 

—  of  Bolsena,  i.  48 ;  two  floating 
iBlaada  of,  ibid. 

—  of  Jaturna,  situation,  i.  190; 
remarkable  appearance  of  Castor 
and  Polloz  on  the  borders  of, 
ibid. 

of  Nemi,  ii.  868 

— ^-  of  Nero's  Golden  House,  i.  137 

— ^  RegiUus,  ii.  342 

Sulphureous,  ii.  319 

Tartarean,  ii.  318;  petrify- 
ing quality  of,  ii.  319 

ofVico,  L57 

of  Viterbo,  I  56 

L^mbs,  ceremony  of  blessing  the, 
ii.  234 

Language  of  signs^  use  of,  by  the 
Italians^  ii.  255 

Laocoon,  statue  of  the,  i.  110,  111 ; 
discovery  and  restoration  of,  i. 
112, «.,  i.  318 

Li^is  specularis,  use  of  for  glazing 
windows,  i.  133;  found  chiefly 
in  Spain,  ibid. 

LaScala,  i.  41 

Last  Judgment,  the  noted  fresco 
of  Michel  Angelo,  ii.  41 

Lateran  Baptistery,  i.  400,  401 

paUwe,  i.  400 

Laurentinum  villa  of  the  younger 
Pliny,  ii.  388 

Lavinium  of  the  Trojans,  i.  150,  ii. 
368 

Lectistemum,  entertainment  given 
to  the  gods,  i.  273,  368,  n. 

Leonardo  da  Vinci,  character  and 
genius  of,  ii.  110;  works  and 
jesidence  of,  ibid;  portrait  of, 
ii.  112  ;  portrait  of  Joan  of  Arra- 
gon  by,  ii.  97 ;  origin  and  fame 
of,  ii.  110,  111.    See  Paintings. 


Lepidus,  villa  of,  ii.  336 
Libraiy  of  Apellicon,  i.  284 

at  Hercnlaneum,  i  136,  n. 

Laurentian,  in  Florence, 

i.  12 
of  Liberty,  the  first  public 

library  in  Home,  i.  166 

of  Marcellus,  i.  149 

at  Milan,  i.  36 

"■  Palatine,  i.  142 

Ulpian,  i.  210 

— —  of  the  Vatican,  ii.  33,  38  ; 

sacred  and  profane  cabinets  of, 

ii.  35;  papyrus  manuscripts  of, 

ii.  36 
Libraries  of  Hadrian  s  villa,  ii.  323 
Lintemum,  i.  361  • 

Literature  of  Italy,  ii.  249,  282 
Livia,  battles  of,  i.  141 ;  villa  of, 

i.  374 
Loggie  of  Baphael,  i.  92 ;  ii.  56 
of  the  Vatican,  ii.  59 


Lorenzo  the  Magnificent,  duke  of 
Florence,  character  of,  L  12; 
library  founded  by,  ibid ;  attemp- 
ted assassination  of,  i.  14 

Lotus,  planting  of  the,  by  Romulus, 
coeval  with  the  cypress,  i.  199  ; 
ornamental  use  of  in  statuary, 
ii.  65,  72 ;  relievo  of  AntinoUs 
crowned  with,  ii.  169 

Lucien  Bonaparte,  villa  of,  ii. 
343  ;  occupation  of  by  banditti, 
ii.  373;  stratagem  of,  to  hold 
communion  with  Kapoleon  in 
Elba,  ii.  835,  n. 

Lucius  Verus,  villa  and  gardens  of, 
i.  374 ;  busts  of,  ibid.  n. 

LucuUuB,  tomb  of,  ii.  348 ;  exten- 
sive cellars  in  the  villa  of,  ii.  349 

Ludus  Matutinus,  ii.  161 

Lung*  Amo,  i.  17 

Lupercal,  antiquity  and  situation 
of,  i.  194, 195 

Lupercalia,  feasts  of  the,  i.  253 

Lutheranism,  toleration  of,,  in 
Bome,  i.  175 


Digitized  by 


Google 


INDEX. 


413 


M. 

Macelluh    Maonitm,    or   market 

-for  provisions  in  Komc«  i.  173 
Madama,  villa  of,  ii.  164 
Madonna,  by  St.  Luke,  i.  16 
miracles  wrought    by 

the,  ii.  226 
Maestre     Pie,     communities     of 

females  for  the  education  of  the 

the  poor,  ii.  222 
Magna  Grsecia,  climate  of,  i.  134; 

here  the  Acanthus    blooms,  i. 

143 
Malaria  of  Bolscna,  i.  47,  50 

of  Rome,  i.  64,  ii.  23,  386 

Malediction,     on     Jews,    Turks, 

and  Heretics,  ii.  207 
Mamertine  prisons,  dungeons  of,  i. 

160,  161;  here  St.  Peter  and  St, 

Paul  were  imprisoned,  ibid. 
ManliuB  Capitolinus,  site  of  the 

house  of,  i.  153 
'  Torquatus,  origin  of  the 

surname,  i.  337 ;  inscription  in 

memory  of,  ii.  370 
Mantua,  relics  found  at,  ii.  232 
Manuscripts,  rare  and  vabiablc,  in 

the  Laurentian  library,    i.   12; 
— on   papyrus,    in    the 

Vatican,  ii.  36 
Marana,  or  Aqua  Crabra  of  Cicero, 

11.  350 
Marbles,  Egina,  ii.  313 

Phigalian,  ii.  316  «. 

Marcellus,  library  and  museum  of, 

i.  142;  statue  of,  ii.  123 
Marcus  Agrippa,  urn  of,  1.  395 

Aurelius,  ancient  temple 

of,  i.  66;  famous  equestrian 
statue  of,  i.  76  ;  statue  of,  i.  93  ; 
triumphal  arch  of,  i.  211,  345; 
11.86 

Marino,  picturesque  situation  of,  ii. 

353 ;  churches  and  ancient  name 

of,  ibid. 
MarioneUcs,  theatre  of,  Ii.  267 


Marius,   disputed  trophies  of,    i. 

155,  156 
Mark  Anthony,  the  murderer  of 

Cicero,  1.  78 
Market  for  slaves,  i.  195 

for  provisions,  i.  173 

Marriages  in  Italy,  ii.  243;  periods 

of  the  year  when  forbidden,  ii. 

287 ;    ceremony  of,  in  Catholic 

churches,  ibid 
Mars,  temple  of,  erected  by  Augus- 
tus, 1.  197 ;  church  on  the  site 

of,    ibid.;    forum    of,    1.    205; 

priests  of,  i.  262 
Marsyas,  statue  of,  in  the  Floren- 
tine gallery,  1.  8,  n. 
Martona,  i.  48 
Martyrdom  of  Saints,  i.  319 
Martyrs,  ground  of  the  Colosseum 

consecrated  by  the  blocd  of,  i. 

82;  place    of  Interment  of,    i. 

459;  relics  of,  sold  throughout 

Christendom,  i.  382 
Masaccio's  fresco  of  St.  Catherine, 

in  the  church  of  St.  Clement, 

i.  439 ;  death  of,  i.  440 
Masquerade  at    the    Carnival    in 

Kome,  ii.  254,  257 
Mass,    when    performed   at    the 

great  altar  of  St.  Peter's,  i.  416 
Mausoleum  of  Augustus,  i.  3G9 

of  the  dukes  de  Mcdicis, 


i.  11 


37a 


-  of  Hadrian,  1.  861 
of  Santa  Constantia,  1. 


Maxentius,  defeat  of,  by  Constan- 
tino, 1.  334 ;  remarkable  appari- 
tion previous,  ibid. 

Mazimus,  The  Circus,  L  256 ;  plan 
of  the,  1.  258 

Mec8enas,  house  of,  i.  312 ;  classic 
remains  of,  1.  313 

Medical  profession  in  Rome,  Ii. 
247 

Medusa,  head  of,  i.  99 

Meleager,  one  of  the  finest  statues 
In  the  world,  1.  95, 109 


Digitized  by 


Google 


414 


nn)Ex. 


Memmi,  Simone,  i.  35 

Mercury,  statue  of,  by  John  of 
Bologna,  i.  7 

Meridian,  traced  by  Bianchini  in 
1701,  i.  827 

Meta  Sudans,  fountain  of,  i.  299 

Metaatasio,  birth-place  of,  ii.  849 

Michael  Angelo  Buonarotti,  in- 
feriority of  existing  works  to  the 
fame  of,  i.  6,  10 ;  tomb  of,  i.  22; 
life  and  character  of,  i.  458; 
favourite  study  of  Torso,  i.  93 ; 
painting  of  the  Virgin  and  dead 
Christ,  in  St.  Peter's,  i.  412; 
frescos  of.  See  Frescoes;  the 
Last  Judgment  by,  ibid. ;  statue 
of  Christ  by,  i.  466;  statue  of 
Moses,  ibid. 

Milan,  the  metropolis  of  literature, 
ii.  285;  cathedral  of,  i.  451; 
library  of,  i.  36 

Mile-stone,  recording  the  distance 
of  the  great  Boman  roads,  i. 
196 

— — ancient  Roman,  i.  155 ; 

in  marble,  ii.  66 

ancient  Eoman,  disco- 


very of,  i.  124,  w. 

Milliarium  Aureum,  i.  196 

Military  amphitheatre,  ancient  re- 
mains of,  i.  122 

Milton,  residence  of  in  the  convent 
of  Fiesole,  i.  196 ;  scenes  in  the 
vicinity  of  Florence,  consecrated 
in  his  Paradise  Lost,  ibid. 

Miltonic  pictures  in  the  Sistine 
chapel,  ii.  43 

Minerva  Medica,  i.  86 

■  pi-ocession    to    the,    on 

Palm  Sunday,  ii.  176 

-  the  finest  statue  of  in  the 


world,  ii.  169;  church  of,  i.  456; 

procession   to    the    church    of, 

ii.  176 
Mint,  the,  i.  153 
Miracles,   Pagan  and  Boman,  ii. 

226,  230 
by  Madonnas,  ii.  226 


Miserere,  service  of  the,  in  the 

holy  week,  ii.  182, 185 
Mithra,  worship  of,  first  introduced 

into  Rome,  i.  96;  statue  of,  ibid.; 

rilievo  of  the  sacrifices  of,  ii.  168 
Modem  Rome,  i.  88 
Monasterio,  a  nunnery,  ii.  22,  218 
Mons  Albanus,  i.  89  ;  ii.  362,  364 
Mons  Janiculus,  i.  114 
Mons  Sacer,  the  hill  to  which  the 

Roman  army  retired  during  the 

civil  wars,  i.  335,  336 

Soracte,  i.  88 

Monte  Algido,  i.  89;  the  site  of 

the  city  of  Algidum,  ii.  342 ;  now 

the  resort  of  banditti,  ii.  378 

Caprino,  i.  153;  ii.  158 

Cavallo,  the  modem  name 


of  the  Quirinal,  i.  177 

Cavo,  i.  89,  ii.  362 ;  ascent 


of,  ii.  363  ;  summit  of,  ii.  364 

Falcone,  ii.  342 

Mario,  i.  164  ;  ascent  of,  ii. 

163;  geological  treasures  of,  ii. 
283 

Montorio,  i.  114 

Porcio,  the    birthplace   of 

Cato,  ii.  342 

Testaccio,  formed  of  frag- 
ments of  earthenware,  i.  429 : 
wine-stores  formed  in  the,  i.  430 

Montefiascone,  i.  52;  celebrated 
wine  of,  i.  53 ;  ruins  of,  ii.  381 

Monterosi,  i.  59 

Monti  di  Pie«l,  of  Rome,  ii.  295 

Monument  of  Salvator  Rosa,  i.  326 

to  Julius  CsBsar,  i.  457 

Morals,  depraved  state  of,  in  Rome, 
ii.  245 

Mosaic  painting  in  St.  Peter's,  i. 
413 

Mosaic  pavement  in  the  cathedral 
of  Siena,  i.  31 

in  the  hall  of  the 

Vatican,  i.  99, 100 

Mosaics,  beauty  and  indestructi- 
bility of,  i.  413;  remarkable  one 
found    in   the    churdi    of  San 


Digitized  by 


Google 


IKPEX. 


415 


Lorenzo,  i.  437 ;  ancient  ones  in 

the  Hall  of  Inscriptions,  ii.  68, 

72;    manu&ctory   of,   ii.    809, 

311 
Moses,  statne  of,  by  Michael  An- 

gelo,  i.  456 
Mount  Augustus,  1. 172 

Aventine,  i.l64 

Ciminus,  ii.  346 

C<Elius,  L  113 

Janicukun,  i.  87, 114, 166, 

206. 

■     Soracte,  i.  63,  88,  89 ;  ii, 

847 

Badicofoni,  i.  41 

Mountains,  classic,  i.  89 
Mnrcia,  altar  of  the  Meta,  1. 159 
Muio  Torto,  the,  i.  119, 121 
Musa,-  Antonius,  i.  93 
Museo  Ghiaramonti,  i.  92 
■  Pio  Clementino,  i.  93 

Muses,  hall  of  the,  i.  98 

sacred,  ii.  189 

Museum,  Bclvidere,  i.  98 

of  the  Capitol,  ii.  62,  71 

of    the     bones    of     the 

Capuchins,  ii.  11 

of  Florence,  i.  6,  9 

of  Mareellus,  i.  142 

—  -  of  Natural  History,  i.  142 
of    Paintings,    at    the 


Capitol,  ii.  84—89 

-  of  the  Vatican,  ii. 


61 


Music,  academy  of,  ii.  263 

of  England,  ii.  271 

of  France,  ii.  270 

of  Germany,  ii,  262 

ofItaly,ii.  270,  271 

of  Naples,  ii.  261 

Musicians,  itinerant,  ii.  261 


IN. 

Nafues,  music  of,  11. 261 ;  cemetery 
of,  ii.  290;  catacombs  of,  ii,  382 


Naples,  theatres  of,  ii.  269 

botanical  gardens  of,    ii. 


285 
Napoleon,  imprisonment  of  monks 

by,  ii.  224 ;  stratagem  by  which 

he  held  communication  with  his 

brother  Lucien,  when  in  Elba,  ii. 

336,  «.;  reign  of  in  Italy,  ii. 

384 ;    despotism    of,    ii.     224 ; 

tomb  of  the  father  of,  ii.  348 
National  dances,  ii.  291 

habits  of  the  lower  classes. 


ii.  294,  297 

Natural  antiquities  of  Borne,  ii. 
283,  284 

Naumachia,  curious  ruins  of  the, 
ii.  325 

Navalia,  the,  i.  66 

Nemi,  lake  of,  ii.  368 

Nero,  tower  of,  i.  45;  palace  or 
golden  house  of,  i.  136,  137  ; 
destruction  of  the,  i.  138  ;  baths 
of,  i.  144,  ii.  123;  arch  of,  i. 
157  ;  descent  of,  i.  190  n ;  circus 
of,  i.  257 ;  escape  of,  from  assas- 
sination, i.  334;  death  of,  i.  336; 
tower  of,  i.  450 ;  tomb  of,  i.  64, 
120,  371;  remarkable  tree  grow- 
ing therefrom,  ibid.;  aqueducts 
of,  i.  346 ;  arch  of,  i.  157,  n. 

Nettuno,  the  ancient  Antium,  ii. 
369 

Nile,  statue  of  the,  i.  244 

Niobe,  statue  of,  and  her  fourteen 
children,  i.  7,  8 ;  casts  of  in  the 
British  Museum,  i.  8,  n. ;  hall  of 
i.  7 

Nozze  Aldobrandini,  celebrated 
painting  in  the  baths  of  Titus,  i. 
316;  ii.  97 

Numa,  visits  of  to  the  grotto  of 
Egeria,  i.  385;  burial-place  of, 
i.  87 ;  site  of  the  Capitol  of,  ii. 
108 

Numicns,  a  river  of  Nettuno,  ii. 
369,  387 

Nymph  Egeria,  ii.  368 

NymphBBum,  a  place  of  cool  retreat 


Digitized  by 


Google 


416 


IHDEX. 


attached  to  Roman  viUag,  i.  386; 
only  remaina  of,  ii.  357;  plan  of, 
ii.  358 
Kymphniim  of  Domitian,  ii.  357 


OsELiscon  the  Ooelian  Hill,  i.  354 
in  the  Church  of  Santa  Ma- 
ria Maggiore,  i.  354 

-  Church  of  Santa  Ma- 


ria fiopra  Minerva,  i.  354 
—  Egyptian,  i.  65 

Fameaina,  the,  ii.  139 

Fiano,  ii.  93 

-  on  the    Fountain   of  the 


Piazza  Navona,  i.  854 

-  on    the   Fountain    in  the 


Piazza  della  Botonda,  i.  354 
-  in  the  court  of  the  Vatican 


Palace,  i.  354 

Palaestrina,  i.  325 

■  Pincian,  'in  the  Circus 
of  Sallust,  present  position  and 
description  of,  i.  355 

" —  on  the  Pincian  Hill,  i.  354 

of  Titus,  i.  312 

Obelises  of  Egypt,  brought  to 
Rome,  i.  351,  355;  description 
of  that  before  St.  Peter's,  i.  70, 
352 

in  the  Piazza  del  Popolo, 

brought  from  Egypt  by  Augus- 
tus, i.  352 

at  the  entrance  of  the 

Mausoleum  of  Augustus,  sup- 
posed to  have  been  erected  one 
thousand  years  before  Christ,  i. 
354,  869 

in    the  Campus  Martins, 


i.  353 


1.  364 


in  the  Circus  of  Caracalla, 


353 


in  the  Circus  Mazimns,  i. 


Obelise  in  the  Circus  of  Sallust^  I. 
259,  354 

Objects  of  worship  in  the  Italian 
churches,  i.  15,  16 

Octavia,  the  neglected  wife  of  An- 
thony, i.  282 ;  portico  of,  ibid ; 
284 

Operas  and  opera-singers,  ii.  263, 
269 

Oppius  and  Cispius,  summits  of 
the  Esquiline  Hill,  i.  175, 176 

Oracles  at  Bome,  i.  251,  252 

Orizonti,  landscapes  of,  ii.  101 

Orvietto,  i.  53 ;  wines  of,  iL  881 

Orti  Famesiani,  or  Famese  gar- 
dens, i.  143 

Ostia,  gate  leading  to,  i.  124;  for- 
tifications of,  ii.  386  ;  population 
of,  ibid. ;  origin,  and  remains  of, 
ii.  387 

Ovid,  house  of,  i.  159 ;  villa  of,  i. 
374 ;  tomb  of,  ibid. 


P. 

Padua,  botanical  gardens  of,   Ii. 

285 
Paganism,  religious  rites  and  faith 

of,  i.  253 
Pagan  miracles,  ii.  227 
altar    of   Parian    marble, 

i.  32 ;  remains  of,  i.  49 

temple  and  worship,  simi- 


litude between,  and  Roman  Ca- 
tholic churches,  ii.  26,  27 

Psecile,  of  Hadrian's  villa,  ii.  322 

Painters,  celebrated,  risen  from  the 
lower  classes,  ii.  110 

Paintings,  by  Albani,   *Vennses,' 
ii.  126. 

■  by   Albano,    'Rape   of 

Europa,'  ii.  102. 

by   Andrea    del    Sarto, 


*  Holy  Family,'  ii.  109 ;  ♦  Por- 
trait of  Leo  X.,' ibid. 


Digitized  by 


Google 


I>"DEX. 


417 


Paintings  by  Andrea  Sacclii,  'Dream 
of  St.  Bruno/  ii.  59 ;  '  Apostles/ 
ii.  108. 

by    Annibale     Caracci, 

'  Magdalen  in  the  Desert/'  ii.  95 ; 
'  La  Pieta/  ii.  96 ;  '  Peasant  at 
dinner/  ii.  101;  'Madonna/  ii. 
102;  *  Landscape/  iL  127 ;  'Christ 
and  Mary  Magdalene/  ii.  181. 

by     Fra'     Bartolomeo, 


'Holy  Family/  ii.  109, 110, 139; 
'  St  Peter  and  St.  Paul/  ii.  145 
by   Agostino    Caracd, 


'Baising  lie  Widow's  child/  ii. 
131 

by    Lndovico    Caracci, 

'  Christ  giving  sight  to  the  Blind,' 
ii.  131 ;  '  Samson  pulling  down 
the  Temple/ ii.  154 

by  Caravaggio,  *  Game- 


sters/ii.  112  ;  '  Judas  returning 
the  thirty  pieces  of  sllyer  to  the 
Chief  Priest,'  ii.  113  ;  '  St.  Anne 
teaching  the  Virgin  to  sew,'  ii. 
116;  'David  with  Goliath's 
head/  ii.  126.  'Holy  Family,' 
ii.  138. 

by    Cignani,    '  Joseph 


and  Potiphar's  Wife,'  ii.  108 

by  Claude  Lorraine,  the 


'Molino,'  ii.  94;  the  'Tempio 
d'Apollo,'  ibid;  'Temple  of 
Venus/  ii.  101 

by  Daniel  da  Volterra, 


'  Deposition  from  the  Cross/  ii, 
11;  'St.  Helena's  Discovery  of 
the  Cross,  ibid. 

by  Domenichino,  '  Com- 
munion of  St.  Jerome/  ii.  67, 
59 ;  '  Sibyl/  ii.  88 ;  '  Murder  of 
Peter  the  Martyr,'  ii.  95 ;  *  Sports 
of  Diana  and  her  Nymphs,'  ii. 
125;  'Ecce  Homo/  ii.  145; 
'Adam  and  Eve  in  Paradise,' 
ii.  153 ;  '  Triumph  of  David,'  ii. 
154 

by  Francisco  Mola, '  An 


old  Woman  with  a  Dog.  ii.  131 


Paintings  by  Garofalo,  ii.  99 

:  by  Gherardo  delle  Notti, 

*  Christ  before  Pilate,'  ii.  130 

by  Giulio  Romano, '  The 

Nativity,  ii.  13  ;  *  Image  of  the 
Almighty,'  ii.  57;  'Battle  be- 
tween Constantino  and  Maxen- 
tius,'  ii.  53 ;  'Venus  in  the  Bath/ 
ii.  128 ;  '  Christ  and  the  Woman 
of  Samaria,'  ii.  131 ;  Bacchana- 
lian Feasts/ ii.  146 

by  Guercino,  'Santa  Pe- 

tronilla,'  ii.  60 ;  '  Sibyl,  ii.  88  ; 
'  Magdalen,'  ii.  96 ;  *  Prodigal 
Son,'  ii.  98;  'Saints,'  ii.  112; 
'  Rinaldo  and  Armida,'  ii.  117 ; 
'  Fame  blowing  her  Trumpet/  ii. 
150 ,  'Saul  and  David,'  ii.  144 ; 
'  Ecce  Homo,*  ii.  137. 

by    Guido,    '  Archangel 


Michael  trampling  upon  Satan/ 
ii.  10;  'Fortune/  ii.  59;  'Bac- 
chus and  Ariadne,  'ii.  89  ;  Por- 
trait of '  Beatrice  Cenci,'  ii.  103 ; 
'St.  Sebastian/  ii.  102;  'The 
Ascension/  ii.  133 ;  '  Marys  at 
the  Cross/  ii.  134 ;  '  Madonna 
and  Infant  Christ/  ibid ;  '  The 
Annunciation,'  ii.  145  ;  '  Andro- 
meda,' ii.  154 

by  Lanfranco,   'Justice 


and  Peace,'  ii.  118  ;  'Oreo  seiz- 
ing Lucilla/  ii.  128 

by  Leonardo  da  Vine', 

portrait  of  '  Queen  Joan  of  Ar- 
ragon/  ii.  97 ;  *  Leda,'  ii.  127 ; 
'  Modesty  and  Vanity,'  ii.  131 

by      Michael     Angelo, 

'  Prophets  and  Sibyls,'  ii.  3,  43 

by  Parmegiano,  'Mar- 
riage of  St.  Catherine,  ii.  127 

by  Pietro  da  Cortona, 

*  Triumph  of  Bacchus,'  ii.  88 

by  Pietro  Perugino,  'The 

Nativity,'    *  Annunciation,'   and 
Crucifixion,'  ii.  146 

by  G.   Poussin,  'Land- 


scapes,' ii.  94 


2  £ 


Digitized  by 


Google 


418 


UTDBI. 


PahitingB  by  N.  Pouasin,  '  Tri- 
umph of  Flora/  u.  88;  'Or- 
pheus,' ibid ;  copy  of  the '  Kozze 
Aldobrandini/  ii.  97,  101; 
'Death  of  Qermaaicus,  iL  107; 
<  Miracle  of  St.  Peter^  ibid ; '  The 
MasBacre  of  the  Ixmocenta,'  ii. 
ISO 

«^_ by  Qttintin  Matays,  'The 

Four  MiserBy'  ii.  99 

— by  Eaphael,  '  St.  John 

the  Baptist/  ii.  5;  'Transfi- 
guration/ i.  229;  ii.  57,  59: 
'Sibyls/  ii.  2;  'Justice  and 
Mercy/  ii.  53 ;  '  Baptism  of 
Christ/  ii.  57 ;  '  Madonna  del 
Foligno/  ii.  69;  'St.  Luke 
painting  the  Virgin's  portrait/ 
ii.  90 ;  *  Portrait  of  Fomarina,' 
u.  107;  'Holy  FamUy/  ibid; 
'Portrait  of  a  Musician/  ii.  112 ; 
'Deposition  from  the  Cross,'  ii. 
128;  'La  Madonna  de'  Cande- 
labri^  ii.  131 ;  '  Portraits/  ii. 
188 

■  by     Rubens,     'Altar- 

Pieces/  ii.  12;  'Portrait  of 
Bubens'  Confessor/  ii.  99  ;  '  Por- 
traits, ii.  131 ;  '  Tiger  Hunt,  ii. 
138 

by  Salvator  Rosa, '  Beli- 


sariuB,'  ii.  95 ;  '  Landscs^es,  ii. 
138,  146 

by  Sasso  Ferrate, '  Holy 

Family,'  ii.  96 ;  'St.  Joseph/  u. 
97 ;  '  Madonnas/  ibid. 

-^— on  touch-stone,  by  Si- 
rani,  'Judith  in  prayer/  ii.  127 

— by  Sebastian  del  Piombo, 

'  La  Pieti/  i.  55 ;  '  Christ  tied  to 
the  column/  ii.  12;  'Flagella- 
tion of  Christ,'  ii.  26  ; '  Resurrec- 
tion of  Lazarus/  ibid. 

— by  Paul  Veronese,   'St. 

Anthony  preaching  to  the  Fishes,' 
ii.  127 

by  Tintoretto,  'Christ/ 

ii.  107 


Paintings  by  Titian,  'Martyxdom 
of  St.  Sebastian/  ii.  60;  *  Mag- 
dalen,' ii.  96 ; '  Sacrifice  of  Isaac, 
ibid;  portrait  of '  Andrea D<Nria» 
ibid ;  '  Luther  and  Calvin,*  ibid ; 
St.  Catherine,'  ibid;  'Giaoes,' 
125 ;  Sacred  and  Profane  Love^* 
ibid;  'Prodigal  Son/  u.  126; 
'  Landscapes,'  ii.  135 

by  Van  MoUe, '  Diogenes 

looking  for  an  Honest  Man,'  ii. 
131 

. —  by  Vandyke,  'Portrait 

of  Rubens/  ii.  131 
Palace,  origin  of  the  term,  i.  129 

—  of  the  Caesars,  founded  by 

Augustus,  i.  134;  situation,  of, 
i.  135 ;  destruction  of,  i.  189 

Corsini,  the,  ii.  137 

of  Domitian,  ii  359 

of  Evander,  ii.  868 

of  Licinius,  i.  246 

of  Nero,  i.  145,  147  «. 

Palaces  of  Rome,  ii.  91 

of  modem  Rome,  ii.  308 

of  Siena,  i.  29 


Palatine  Hill,  form  and  height  of, 
i.  127 ;  valley  of,  celebrated  for 
the  capture  of  the  Sabine  women, 
i.  86;  history  of  the,  i.  128; 
etymology  of,  ibid.;  stntetores 
of,  i.  129;  ruins  of,  i.  130, 147; 
discovery  of  paintings  in  a  laige 
hall  on  the,  i.  138 ;  temples  of, 
i.  143 ;  sunset  on  the,  ii.  389 

libraiy,  i.  142 

Palazzo  Albani,  ii.  146 

Altieri,  ii.  147 

— Barberini,  iL  106 ;  pFMsnt 

prince  of,  ibid.,  museum  of,  ibid., 
gardens  of«  ii.  108 

Borghese,  one  of  the  largest 

palaces  in  Rome,  ii.  124;  seu^ 
ture  of,  ii.  125;  galley  of,  ii. 
126, 128 ;  gardens  of  the,  iL  159 
Brasehi,    noble  ardiitee- 


ture  of,  ii.  121;  gallery  of  the, 
iL  122 


Digitized  by 


Google 


IKDEX. 


419 


Palazzo  Caffarelli,  ii.  147 
of  the  Colonna  fiunUy,  ii. 

362 

de*  Conservatori,  ii.  84 

Costaguti,  freacoa   in  the, 

ii.  117 
— —  Dona,  ii.  94 

Falconieri,  ii.  138, 136 

Farnese,  ii.  143 

Giustiniani,  i.  221,  ii.  122 

Imperiale,  of  the  French, 

ii.  144 
Luciano,  gallery  of,  ii.  130; 

paintings  of  Carracci,    in   the, 

ii.  131 
Massimi,  chapels   of  the, 

ii.  113,*  in  the  stables  are  the 

remains   of   Pompey's   theatre, 

ii.  114 

Mattei,  ii.  118 

Nuovo  di  Torlonia,  ii.  132 

Pitti,  at  Florence,  gallery 

of  scalptare  in  the,  i.  9 

Poniaiowski,  ii.  147 

■  Quirinal,  ii.  144 

-  Bospigliosi,  ii.   147;   con- 


tains the  fomoos  fresco  of  Qnido 
'Aurora,'  ibid. 
—  Ruspoli.  ii.  147 

Sciarra,  paintings  in  the. 


ii.  109, 112 

Spada,  description  of,  ii. 


116 ;  remarkable  statue  of  Pom- 

pey,  in  the,  ii.  114, 116 

Stoppani,  ii.  147 

Vecchio,  i  20 

'  Verospi,  ii.  147 


Palestrina,  ancient  Prssneste,  i.  89; 

cydopean  walls  of,  ii.  371 
Palilla,  or  festiTals  in  honour  of  the 

god  Pales,  i.  129 
Pallas,  temple  of,  i,  29 
Palm  Sunday  in  Bome,  ii.  176 
Falmsy  artificial,  bome  in  proces- 

tions,  ii.  181 
Palombara.  or  gunpowder  maaa- 

ftctoiy  of  Bome,  i.  311 


Pandects  of  Justinian,  i.  12 

Pantheon,  now  the  Botunda,  i.  219 ; 
degraded  state  of,  i.  220;  con- 
secration of,  as  a  Christian 
church,  ibid. ;  plunder  of,  by 
Gonstantine,  i.  221 ;  height, 
diameter,  and  circumference  of, 
i.  123  n, ;  statues  in  the,  i.  227 
n. ;  best  view  of,  ii.  123 

Pantomines  represented  in  Rome, 
i.  274 

Paolina  chapel,  ii.  44;  illumination 
of,  ii.  186 

Papal  goremment,  ii.  880 

Papyri,  chamber  of,  in  the  Vatican, 
ii.  36 

Papyrus,  manuscripts  on,  in  the 
Vatican,  ii.  36 

Paris,  statue  of,  L  97 

Partisans,  supporters  of  colours  in 
the  chariot-races,  i.  263 

Pasquin,  statue  of,  ii.  120;  pas- 
quinades or  witticisms  of,  ibid. 

Peace,  temple  of,  i.  240 

forum  of,  i.  206,  241 

Peasants  at  confession,  i.  417 

Penitents,  convent  of,  ii.  366 

frequent  processions  of, 

ii.  171. 

Penitenza  Maggiore,  or  eardinal 
who  absolves  from  crhnes  which 
no  other  priest  can,  ii.  187 

Perseus,  statue  of,  i.  107,  108 ; 
imprisonment  of,  i.  161 

Pestilence,  expedients  for  staying 
the  progress  ot;  in  Bome,  i.  273 

Phaontes,  Nero's  freedman,  under 
whose  roof  that  emperor  slew 
himself,  i.  886 

Phidias  and  Praxiteles^  colossal 
statues  by,  i.  178 

Phigalian  marbles,  ii.  313,  816  n. 

Philosophers,  busts  ot,  iii  76; 
theatre  of,  i.  276 

Phocas,  column  of,  i.  186 

Piazza  Barberini,  i.  267 

of  the  Capitol,  now  Campi- 

doglio,  i.  76 

2  E  2 


Digitized  by 


Google 


420 


KTDEX. 


Piazza  of  St.  Peter*s,  description 

of.  i.  74 

Navona,  i.  250 

della  Botonda,  i.  220 

Tnyana,  i.  207 

Vatican©,  ii.  147 

Pietre  Dure,  at  Florence,  ii.  811 
Pictures,  Mil  tonic,  in  the  Sistine 

chapel,  ii'  43 

■  of  statuaiy  in  the  Egina 

marbles,  ii.  815 
Pila  Horatii,  on  which  the  Rpoils  of 

the  Curiatii  were  heaped,  i.  202 
Pilate,  house  of,  i.  445 
Pilgrims   to   the    church   of  St. 

Peter's,  i.  419 
Pincian  hill,  i.  66 
Pine,  luxuriance  of  the,  in  southern 

climates,  ii.  159 
Pindemonte,  the  poet,  ii.  280 
Pisa,  botanical  gardens  of.  11.  285 
Piscina  Publicaor  public  reservoir, 

i.  311 
Plan  of  the  Circus  Maximug,  1. 

258 

of  the  Forum,  i.  179 

of  the  walls,  gates,  and  seven 

hills  of  Rome.  L  118 

of  Pompey*s  theatre,  i.  218 

of  Bome.  ii.  68 

of  the  Roman  towns,  ii.  391 

Plautius,  Lateranus.  house  of.  i.  75 

M.,  tomb  of,  ii.  820 

Plays  first  introduced  into  Rome, 

1.  273;  cause  of  their  introduc- 
tion, ibid. ;   representation   of, 

before  the  court  of  critics,  i.  142 

extempore,  ii.  267 

of  Goldoni,  ii.  265 

of  Alfieri,  ii.  265 

Plebeian  ^diles^  establishment  of, 

1.  885  n. 
Plenary  indulgence,   doctrine  of, 

i.  419,  420  w. 
Pliny,  house  of,  i.  175 
Poe^,  and  poets  of  Italy,  ii.  279, 

281 
Poets,  busts  of  the,  i.  228 


Poggibonzi,  i.  26 

Pomoerium,  the.  i.  115 

Pompa  Circenais,  i.  262 

Pompeii,  houses  of,  i.  131;  climate 

of.  i.  134;  amphitheatre   of,    i. 

289;  ruins  of,  ii.  345  n.,    346. 

847 
Pompey,    remarkable    statue    of. 

ii.  114;  remain?  of  the  theatre 

of,  ibid. ;  tomb  of  the  family  of, 

ii.  360 ;  mausoleum  of,  ii.  361 ; 

halls  of,  ii.  360 
Pons  iElius.  i.  334 

Cestius,  i.  333,  now  Ponte 

Bartolomeo,  ii.  18 

Fabricius,  i.  332,  now  Ponte 

Quattro  Capi,  ii.  17 

Janiculensis,  i.  33 

Milvius,  i.  65 

Komentanus,  i.  335 

Namiensis,  or  ruined  bridge 

ofNami,  i.  338 

Palatinus,  i.  332 

Sublicius,  the  first  bridge  of 

wood  in  Rome,  i.  114. 331 

Triumphalis,  i.  333 

Pont  au  Gard.  i.  388 
Ponte  Bartolomeo,  ii.  18 
Pontecelli,  a  bridge  over  the  Anio, 

ii.  833 
Ponte  di  Catena,  ii.  371 
della  Santissima  Trinita,  i. 

17 

del  Lupo,  at  Tivoli,  ii.  329 

Lamentano,  i.  385 

Lucano,  ii.  320 

Mammolo,  i.  335,  ii.  318 

MoUe,  i.  65;  the  scene  of  the 

eventful  battle  between  Constan- 

tine  and  Maxentius,  i.  384 

Quattro  Capi,  ii.  17 

Rotto,  the  first  stone  bridge 

in  Rome,  i.  832 

Salario,    remarkable  tower 

of,  i.  386;  here  Hannibal  pitched 
his  tent,  i.  338 

San  Angelo,  L  70,  334 

Sisto,  I  334 


Digitized  by 


Google 


ISTDBX. 


421 


Ponte  Vecchio,  i.  17 

Ponzo,  island  of,  ii.  360 

Pope  Pius  VII.,  palace  of,  i.  88 ; 
character  of,  i.  455;  meeting 
with,  ii,  8,  9 ;  belief  of  the  friars 
in  his  power  to  pardon  sin,  ii.  19 ; 
presentation  to  the,  ii.  173 ;  bene- 
diction of,  on  Easter  Sunday, 
ii.  204,  207 

Porcia  Basilica,  the  most  ancient 
remains  of  a  Roman  church,  i. 
191 

Porcian  meadows,  ii.  342 

Porta  Asinaria,  i.  125 

Capena,  or  San  Sebastiano, 

i.  124 

Collina,  i.  124,  247 

Flaminia,  i.  65 

Latina,  L  125 

Maggiore,  the  finest  gate  of 

Kome,  i.  123 

Portese,  i.  117 

Pia,  i.  125 

Salaria,     Quirinalis,     or 

Scelerata,  i.  1 24 

San  Giovanni,  i.  119,  ii.  338 

San  Lorenzo,  i.  121, 125 

San  Paola,  i.  124 

Santa,  or  holy  door  in  St. 

Peter's,  i.  421 

del  Popolo,  i.  65,  124 

Portico,  Doric,  of  the  temple  of 
Hercules,  ii.  369 

of  Clodius,  ii  359 

of  Liberty,  i.  166,  198,  284 

of  Octavia,  erected  by  Au- 
gustus, i.  282 ;  library  of,  i.  284 ; 
remains  of,  i.  285 

Public,  i.  168,  282 

of  St.  Peter's,  i.  71 

Porticos  of  ancient  Rome,  1.  282, 
284 

Portland  vase,  discovery  of,  ii.  67  ; 
destruction  of,  in  the  British 
Museum,  ibid,  n, 

Porto,  the  port  built  by  Claudius 
on  the  Tiber,  ii.  387 

Poussin,    landscapes   of,    i.    319, 


ii.    88;  house  of,  ii.  11.    See 

Paintings. 
Prati  Porcii,  or  Porcian  meadows, 

ii.  342 
d*  Annibale,  or  meadows  of 

Hannibal's  encampment,  ii.  364, 

366 
Praesepio,  ii.  16 
Precious    stones,     costly    figures 

wrought  in,  i.  7 
Pretorian  camp,  remains  of,  i.  119; 

form  of,  i.  121 
Priests,  ordination  of,  ii.  200 
Prisons,  Mamertino,  of  Rome,  i. 

160,  163;    here  St.  Peter  was 

imprisoned     by    command    of 

Nero,  i.  161 
— _  of  the  Decemviri,  beautiful 

temple  in  the,  i.  249 
Procession  in  the  Sistine  chapel  on 

Palm  Sunday,  ii.  180 

on 


Easter  Sunday,  ii.  203,  204 
Processions  during  the  Holy  week, 

ii.  179, 181 
Processions  of  knights,  priests,  &e., 

in  Pagan  times,  i.  252 
— —  of  penitents,  ii.  176, 

259 
Praeficsa,  or  hired  mourners,  ii.  77 
Proeneste,  now  Palestrina,  ii.  371 
Promethean  creation  of  man,  ii.  73 
Protestant  burial-ground  in  Rome, 

i.  368 
Protestantism  at  Rome,  ii.  175 
Piytaneum,  at  Hadrian's  villa,  the 

residences  of  the  judges,  ii.  825 
Pulchrum  Littus,  or  beautl^l  shore 

of  the  Tiber,  i.  233 
Purgatory,  doctrine  of,  i.  383 
Pyramids  of  Caius  Cestius,  i.  367, 

369 


Digitized  by 


Google 


4&2 


IITDXX. 


QuBur  GHBisnyA  of  Bwedra,  her 
abdication  of  a  proiestant  crown 
to  embrace  the  catholic  faith,  i. 
409 ;  reudence  of,  ii.  161 
•  Zenobia,  supposed  palace 

of,  ii.  S20 

Qiiirinal  Hill,  etymology,  popola- 
tion,  and  ancient  buildings  of, 
i.  177;  colossal  statues  on  the 
summit  of,  i.  177, 178 

Palace,  a  144 


Radioofovi,  mountain  of,  i.  41, 
42 ;  village  and  fort  of,  ibid. 

Baphael,  house  of,  iL  147;  grave 
of,  i.  229 ;  painting  of  St.  John 
the  Baptist  by,  i.  5 ;  first  fresco 
of,  i.  32,  33;  sibyls  of,  ii.  2; 
frescos  of,  ii.  61,  57 ;  last  work 
of,  i.  229 ;  arabesques  of,  i.  315, 
316;  cartoons  of,  ii.  47;  his- 
torical paintings  of,  ii,  47,  49; 
loggie  of,  i.  93;  ii.  56;  oil 
paintings,  in  the  Vatican,  com- 
pared with  those  of  Domenichino, 
ii.  57;  skull  of,  preserved  in 
Some,  ii.  90;  earliest  paintings 
of,  ii.  128;  casino  of,  ii.  156; 
mosaic  copy  of  the  Transfigura- 
tion by,  ii.  310.     See  Paintings. 

Keclusorio  for  females  in  Rome,  i. 
435 

Becords,  public,  destruction  and 
restoration  of,  by  Vespasian, 
i.  158 

Eediculus,  temple  of,  i.  387 

Belies  of  the  martyrs,  sale  of, 
throughout  Christendom,  i.  328 

— —  from  the  Holy  Land,  i.  397, 
398,  433,  434 


Belies  at  St.  Peter's,  exhibitioii  of, 
ii.  189 

Beligicm,  rites  of,  among  the 
ancients,  i.  252 

Remains  of  the  circus,  L  266 

Besurrection  of  our  Saviour,  iL  200 

Bienzi,  abode  of,  i.  447 ;  character 
of,  ibid.;  coronation  of,  i.  448; 
rapid  fall  and  disgrace  of,  ibid. 

Bipa  Grande,  the  modem  port  of 
Bome,  i.  87,  166 

Bival  frescos  of  Guide  and  Dome- 
nichino, ii.  6 

Eiver  gods,  i.  76 

Beads,  Boman,  i.  201 

of  Boma  Vecchia,  i.  391 


Bocca  Brune,  ii.  326 

di  Papa,  anciently  the  Forum 

Populi,  ii.  363 

Bodolph  Schadow,  a  Prussian 
sculptor,  works  of,  ii.  307 

Roma  Vecchia,  i.  391 

Boman  Catholic  churches  and  cere- 
monies, compared  with  pagan 
temples  and  worship,  ii.  26 

coins,  discovery  of,  i.  138 

Forum,    erection    of    by 


Constantino  the  Great,  L  184; 
179;  excavation  of,  by  the 
English  and  French,  i.  180,  181; 
monuments  of  the,  L  183;  dis- 
puted columns  in,  i.  187,  189; 
ruins  of,  i.  190 

houses,  i.  180,  132,  ii.  92, 


93;  ancient  remains  of,  i.  243 
palaces,  general  description 

of,  ii.  91,  94 

roads,  i.  201 

senators,  i.  159;  office  and 


appointment  of,  1. 160 
society,  ii.  93,  238,  241 ; 

great  defect  in  the  constitution 

of,  ii.  247,  297 
Bome,  first  view  of,  i.   61;  cam- 

pagna  and  surrounding  hills,!. 

62,  63;  climate  of,   i.   64,   69; 

gradual  extension  of  the   city, 

i.  114,  118;  when  founded,  1. 


Digitized  by 


Google 


UfTDEX. 


423 


129;  ooiiflAgrati<m  of,  in  ^e 
reign  of  Nero,  i.  146.  147,  «.  ; 
%€aicer*8  poetic  description  of, 
i.  148 ;  early  legends  of,  i.  151 ; 
modes  of  supplying  the  city  with 
water,  i.  346,  849,  ii.  80 ;  laws  of 
interment,  i.  256,  ii.  288;  desert 
country  around,  i.  875;  ancient 
streets  of,  i.  452,  458 ;  churches 
of,  i.  454;  plan  of,  i.  238,  ii. 
68 ;  botanical  riches  of,  ii.  284 
view  of,  from  the  tower  of 
the  Capitol,  i.  85;  from  the 
dome  of  St.  Peter's,  i.  425 

Homalus^  the  deified  founder  of 
Bome,  i.  153 ;  straw-roofed  cot- 
tage of,  i.  129 ;  citadel  of,  i.  86 ; 
temple  of,  converted  into  a 
Christian  church,  i.  193;  alleged 
translation  of  from  earth  to 
heaven,  i.  1 99 ;  point  from  whence 
he  set  out  to  trace  the  boundary 
of  his  infont  city,  i.  215;  statue 
of,  ii.  86 

Ronciglione,  ruins  of,  i.  67,  69 

Hosa  Taddei,  a  celebrated  impro- 
visatrice,  ii.  275,  277 

Bostra,  Julian,  position  of  the,  in 
the  forum,  i.  191,  n. 

E^stral  column,  ii.  85 

JKostrum,  site  and  total  ruin  of, 
i.  78 

of  Cicero,  ii.  224 

Botondo  of  the  Pantheon,  i.  222 

Buffinella,  the  residence  of  Lucien 
Buonaparte,  ii.  848;  chapel  of, 
ii.  348 

Bnins  of  the  Colosseum,  i.  83, 
85 

in  the  Pish  market,  i.  284 


Sabinb  Hills,  first  view  of,  i.  62 
'■ ' distant  view  of,  ii.  347 


Sabine  farm  of  Horace,  ii,  387 
Sacellum,  i.  172 

Sacred  Dramas,  performed  in  Borne, 
ii.  268 

•   island,    origin    of,  i,  87; 

natural  formation  of,  according 
to  Pliny,  ii.  18 ;  present  occupa- 
tion of,  ii.  387 
Sacrifices,  human,  i.  254 
Saints,  martyrdom  of,  1.  321 
Sala  della    Lavatura,    where    tho 
Pope  washes  the  feet  of  pilgrims, 
ii.  186 

della  Tavola,  ii.  187 

Sale  of  indulgences,  i.  420  n. 
Sallust,  circus  of,  i.  269 ;  ruins  of 

the  house  of,  i.  270 
Salt  marshes  near  Borne,  ii.  386  n. 
Saltarello,  ii.  291 
Salvator    Bosa,    house  of,  ii.   12 ; 

tomb  of,  i.  326 ;  See  Paintings 
San  Casciano,  town  of,  i.  25 

Lorenzo  Nuovo,  built  by  Pins 

VI.,  i.  47 

— —  Bovinato,  picturesque 

ruins  of,  i.  48 
Sancta  Sanctorum,  i.  299 
Santa  Casa,  or  house  of  the  Virgin, 
i.  434,  445 

Constantia,  tomb  of,  i.  376 

Croce,  convent  of,  i.  436 

Petronilla,  the  ancient   La- 

vinium ,  ii.  369 

Bosa,  visit  to  the  convent  of, 

i.  54 

• Sabina,    thrown    into   the 

Tiber,    for    her    adherence    to 
Christianity,  i.  169 
— -  Theresa,  convent  of,  ii.  221 

Trinita,  bridge  of,  ii.  221 

Santo  Spirito,  hospital  of,  ii.  229 
Saraconi,  or  Sienese  Palace,  i.  87 
Sarcophagi  of  the  Empress  Helena, 

and  Constantia,  i.  100 
Sarcophagus  of  Augustus,  i.  370 
of  Lorenzo,  in  the  anti- 
chapel  or  Capello  de'  Depositi, 
i.  9 


Digitized  by 


Google 


424 


INDEX. 


Sarcophagus  of  Scipio   Barbatna, 

i.95 
-^— of    ancient    Grecian 

scalpiiire,  i.  50 
Sasso  Ferrato,  paintings  of,  ii.  96 ; 

See  paintings. 
Saturnalia,  modem  (The  Camiyal), 

ii.  252,  259 
Satyrce,  dramas  of  Etruscano  rigin, 

1.274 
Saxa  Rubra,  or  Grotto  Rosso,  the 

resort  of  Mark  Antony,  i.  375 
Scala  Cordonata.  the  ascent  to  the 

modem  Piazza  of  the  capitol,  i. 

76  n. 
Scenery,   comparatiyc,  of  France 

and  Italy,  i  23 
Bchola  Xanthi,  or  office  of  public 

notaries,  i.  197 
School  of  arms  and  letters,  i.  172 
— ^-  of  gladiators,  i.  172 
— —  of  St.  Augustine,  i.  234 

of  painting,  i.  34 

Schools  of  the  philosophers,  ii.  825 
Science,  depressed  state  of  under 

the  papal  goyemment,  ii.  282, 

285 
Scipio  Africanus,   triumphal  arch 

of,    i.    157;  tomb    of,    i.    359; 

marble  bust  of,  ii.  69 ;  house  of, 

ii.  103 
Sculptors,  Italian— Canoya,  ii.  298, 

300,  304 ;  Thorwaldsen,  ii.  305 ; 

Rodolph  Schadow,  ii.  307,  308 
Sculpture,  museum  of,  in  the  Capitol, 

a  70,  84 

— • Egyptian,  ii.  64 

Grecian,  ii.  85, 133 

Hall  of,  in  the  Vatican, 

i.  103 
Scythian,   commanded  by  Apollo 

to  flay  Marsyas,  i.  3 
Secretarium    Senatus,    where   the 

writings  of  the  senate  were  kept, 

i.  197 
Senate  House,   or   Roman   Curia, 

i.  80,  188 ;  dungeons  of,  i.   160, 

161 


Senator  of  Rome,  i.  159;  original 
appointment  of,  160 

Senator's  Palace,  i.  75;  statue  of 
Rome  Triumphant,  at  the  foot  of 
the  steps  to  the,  i.  76  ;  remains 
of  an  ancient  edifice  beneath,  i. 
158 

Sepolto  Vivo,  conyent  in  wliich 
nuns  are  imprisoned,  ii.  221 

Septimius  Severus,  little  arch  of, 
i.  214 

triumphal  arch 

of,  i.  79 

Septizonium,  i.  138 

Sepulchre  of  Christ  at  St.  Antonio 
de'  Portoghesi,  ii.  189 

Serapis,  altar  of,  i.  268 

Serenades,  ii.  264 

Seryices  of  the  Holy  week,  ii.  3  83, 
187 

Servius  TuUius,  murder  of,  by  his 
son-in-law,  i.  174 

Sette  Salle,  ruins  of  the,  i.  322 

Seyen  Hills  of  Rome,  i.  88,  114, 
126 

Sgricci,  the  improvisatore,  remark- 
able talent  of,  ii.  273 

Shops  of  Rome,  ii.  92,  93 

or  Tabemae,  ancient  remains 

of,  i.  146 

Sibyl,  ancient  books  of  the,  i.  142, 
n. ; ,  temple  of  the,  at  Tivoli, 
ii.  330,  331 

Sicily,  improved  condition  of  so- 
ciety in,  ii.  379,  n. 

Siena,  volcanic  formations  in  tlie 
vicinity  of,  i.  28 ;  antiquity, 
population,  language,  and  society 
of,  i.  29,  38  ;  cathedral  of,  i.  30 ; 
pagan  altar  of  Parian  marble  in 
the  church  of,  i.  32 

Sienese  school  of  painting,  i.  34 

Signs,  language  of,  used  by  the 
Italians,  ii.  255 

Simulacrum,  a  sacred  stone,  said  to 
have  fallen  from  Heaven,  i.  385 

Siren's  Cave  at  Tivoli,  ii.  829 

Sistine  Chapel,  containing  the  four 


Digitized  by 


Google 


IKDEX. 


425 


frescos  of  Michel  Angelo,  ii.  40, 

45 ;  services  in,  during  the  Holy 

Week,  ii.  182, 187 
Slaughter  of  Roman  citizens  by 

Sylla,  Marius,  and  Augustus,  i. 

254 
Slave,  statue  of  the,  overhearing 

the  conspiracy  of  Cataline,  i.  2 
Slaves,  traffic  in,  i.  195 
Sober  habits  of  the  Italians,  ii.  295 
Spectacles,  Roman,  corresponding 

to  the  melo-drama  of  England,  i. 

277 
St.  Angelo,  castle  of,  i.  402 

—  Jolm  the  Baptist,  painting  of, 
by  Baphael,  i.  5 

—  Philip,  baths  of,  i.  43 
Speculum  Dianae,  or  looking-glass 

of  Diana  on  the  lake  of  Nemi, 
ii.  367 

Spoils  of  the  Temple  of  Jerusalem, 
i.  243;  restoration  of,  by  Jus- 
tinian, ibid. 

Stadium  for  foot-races,  i.  255 

Statue  of  the  Eternal  Father,  i.  14 

of  Marcus  Aurelins,  i.  76 

of  the  Nile,  i.  244 

Statues,  Grecian,  i.  2 

St.  Anthony,  blessing  of,  on  horses, 
ii.  233,244 

—  Augustin,  supposed  school  of, 
i.  234 ;  convent  of,  ii.  3 

—  Catherine  of  Siena,  house  of, 
i.  38 ;  alleged  marriage  of,  and 
correspondence  with  Christ,  ibid. 

—  Cecilia,  the  inventor  of  the 
organ,  i.  460  ;  church  of,  ibid. 

—  Dominic,  founder  of  the  Inqui- 
sition, i.  169 

—  Ctregorj',  convent  of,  ii.  5; 
statue  of,  ii.  7 

—  John,  convent  of,  ii.  223; 
giurdens  of  the,  ii.  224 

—  John  Lateran,  church  of,  i.  393 

—  Luke,  academy  of,  ii.  89 

—  Lorenzo,  martyrdom  of,  i.  176 ; 
church  of,  ibid. 


St.  Paul,  imprisonment  of,  i.  161 ; 

martyrdom  of,  i.  432 
*-  Paul's  cathedral,  contrasted  with 

St.  Peter's  at  Rome,  i.74 

—  Peter,  imprisonment  of  by  Nero, 
i.  161 ;  dungeon  of,  with  mira- 
culous spring  of  water,  ibid.; 
pillar  of,  ibid ;  death  of,  i.  405 ; 
visit  to  the  sepulchre  of,  i.  408,. 
409 

—  Peter's,  cathedral  of,  i.  69;  inte- 
rior and  exterior  view  of,  72, 73 ; 
colonnade  of,  74 ;  tomb  and  chain 
of  St.  Peter  in,  I  406,  408 ;  ge- 
neral plan  of,  i.  407 ;  tombs  <^ 
the  popes  in,  i.  412;  ascent  to 
the  top  of,  i.  423 ;  view  from 
the  dome  of,  1.  425;  illumina- 
tions of,  ii.  208,  209 

—  Sebastian,  martyrdom  of,  i.  146  » 
painting  of  the,  i.  326 

Statues,  ^lleiy  of,  in  the  Vatican, 

i.  103 
Steps  to  the  church  of  Ara  Coeli, 

ascended  by  Julius  Caesar,  ii.  16 
Stone,    Tiburtine,    of    which    St. 

Peter's  is  built,  i.  74 ;  properties 

of,  ibid. 

first  bridge  of,  i.  832 

Street  of  tombs,  1.  356 
Suburbs  of  Rome,  i.  116,  118 
Sybilline  books,  preservation  of  by 

Augustus,  i.  142 


Tabulariuu,  an  ancient  edifice 
in  which  the  laws  and  public 
records  were  kept,  i.  158;  de- 
struction of,  in  the  reign  of 
Vespasian,  ibid. 

Tapestries  from  the  cartoons  of 
Raphael,  i.  101 ;  removal  of,  by 
the  French,  and  recovery  by  tlie 
present  Pope,  i.  102 


Digitized  by 


Google 


426 


UTDXX. 


Tapesizy  chAmbera  in  the  Yatican, 

ilOl 
TanntellA,  origin  of  the  dance,  ii. 

291 
Taip«ian  rock,  origin  of  the  name, 

i.  151;  downifhich  malefactors 

were  thrown,   i.  152;   present 

elevation  of,   i.  153;    Milton's 

description  of,  ibid. 
Tasso,  tomb  of,  ii.  24 
Taremella,  town  of,  i.  25 
Telemaehas,  an  Asiatic  monk,  who 

died  a  martyr  to  the  cause  of 

humanity,  i.  801 
Tempo,  vale  of,  ii  323 
Temple  of  Antoninus  and  Faustina, 

description  and  plan  of^  i.  183 

237 
of  Apollo,  built  by  Augus- 
tus after  the  battle  of  Actium,  i. 

141,  202;  ii.  326 

of  Antoninus  Pius,  i.  218 

of  -fflsculapius,  ii.  18 

of  Bacchus,  i.  877 

— — —  of  Bellona,  i.  251 ;  priests 

of,  ibid. 

of  the  Bona  Dea,  i.  167 

of  Canopus,  the  Egyptian 

Neptune,  ii.  325 

of  the  goddess  Camse,  i. 


172 


of   Claudius,    i.  172;    in 
Britain,  i.  213 

•  of  Castor  and  Pollux,  situ- 


ation and  antiquity  of,  i  189; 
remains  of,  ii.  370 

•  of  Concord,  in  the  Forum, 


i.  77, 185 ;  Ionic  portico  of,  ibid. 

of  the  Cough,  ii.  333  n. 

of  Diana,  site  of  the,  i.  167 

ofEgina,  ii.  315 

of  the  Faun,  ii.  320 

of  Fortune,  I  81, 185 

of  Fortuna  Muliebris,    or 


Fortune  of  women,  built  in  com 
memoration  of  Coriolanus  spar- 
ing Rome  at  the  entreaties  of 
his  wife  and  mother,  i.  389 


Temple  of  Hercules^  L  280;   at 
Coii»  ii  369 

of  Hope,  i.  250 ;  roiiffi  of 


the,  i  379 

of  Isis,  i.  166 

of  Janus,  i.  260  n 

— —  of  Juno  Honeta,    ©r  the      ^ 


mint,  i.  153 

of  Juno  Lanuvina,  mins  of 


the,  u.  86d 


Begina,  i.  167 
Sospita,  i.  250 


i  282 


-  of  Juno  in  the  fish-maiket. 


236 


372 


.Virilis,i232,  235, 
at    Prsdneste,    ii. 


•  of  Julius  Csesar,  i  195, 196 

of  Jupiter  Capitolinus,  i. 

75;  statue  of,  i.  154 

Feretrius^     i. 


151 ;  the  most  ancient  temple 
in  Bome,  i  154 

-  of  Jupiter  Latialis,  i.  60 ; 


convent  of  Friore  on  the  site  of, 
view  from,  ii.  364 

■  Optimus  Maxi- 


mus,  i.  200 

-  of  Jupitor  Stator,  the  first 


temple  vowed   to  the  gods  in 
Rome,  i.  80, 185 

Tonans,  i  79; 


excavation  of  by  the  French,  i. 

180;   disputed    columns    of,    i. 

186;  ruins  of,  i  192 

of  Liberty,  i.  166 

of  Marcus  Aurelius,  i.  66 

of  Mars,    erected  by  Au- 


gustus, i  197, 252 

of  Minerva,  i.  206 

•  Medica,  i.  245 ; 


architecture  of,  i.  247 

of  the  Muses,  i.  386 

of  Neptune,  i.  92 

of  Nerva,  i.  88 

-  of  the  Palatine  Apollo,  i 


141 


Digitized  by 


Google 


INPSX. 


427 


Temple  of  Pallas,  i.  207 

of  Peace,!.  81, 239 ;  destruc- 
tion and  re-erection  of,  i.  240; 
cause  of  its  original  erection, 
i.243 

— : of  Piety,  erected  in  honour 

of  the  daughter  who  saved  the 
life  of  her  father,  i.  249 

-  of  Rome,  remains  of,  i.  75 ; 


ruins  of,  i.  450 

of  St  Urban,  i.  386 

-  of  Romulus  and  Remus,  L 


86 ;  present  occupation  of,  i.  238 
Quirinus,    i. 


88, 114,  177 

of  Saturn,  i.  80, 196 

—  of  the  seven  wise  men  of 


Greece,  it  323 

Sibyl,  at  Tiroli,  ii. 


330,  331 


•  Sun,  ii.  102 


270 


■  of  Venus  Erycina,  L  247, 


Genetrix,  i.  248 
and   Diana,    in 


the  Yale  of  Tempe,  ii.  324 

■  and  Rome,  i.  82; 


one    of  the   most  splendid  of 
Hadrian's  works,  i.  244 

in   the    Circus 


Mazimus,  i.  258 


and  Cupid,  i. 
247;  inscription  on  the  statue 
of  the  goddess,  i.  247  n. 

of  Vesta,  disputed  situa- 


tion of,  i.  132,  230,  232,  270,  ii. 
331 

-  of  Virtue  and  Honour,  i. 


269,  386 

■  of  the  god  Rediculus :  ori- 


gin of  the  name,  i.  387 

—  of  the  goddess  Voltumna, 


magnitude  and  magnificence  of, 

i.  49 
Temples   on    the    Palatine    Hill, 

i.  143 
Tepidarium  of  the  Baths,  i.  324 
Terminal  figures,  ii.  167 


Terracina,  town  of,  the  resort  of 

banditti,  ii.  378,  379 
Terra-cotta,  Etruscan  and  Grecian 
vases  of,  i.  6 ;  urns  of,  suppoaed 
to  be  antediluvian,  ii.  361 
Theatre  Alberto,  ii.  257 

of  C.  Balbus,  i.  280 

Grecian,  i.  273,  275 

of  Marcellus,  i.  249;  re- 
mains of,  i.  280 

-  Marine,  in  Hadrian's  villa. 


ii.  823 


of  Pompey,  i.  218 
— — -  of  Scaurus,  i.  276 
in  the  convent  of  S.  Syl- 

vestro,  ii.  214 

of  Jja  Valle,  ii.  264 

Theatres,  Roman,  i.  273,  275 ;  first 

built  by  Pompey,  i.  276;  plan 

of,  i.  278 
existing   state    of,    in 

Rome,  ii.  264,  269 
Theatrical  Presepio,  or  exhibition 

of  the  Virgin  and  infant  Jesus 

at  the  church  of  Ara  Coeli,  ii.  16 
Thermae,  or  baths  of  the  Romans, 

1.  301,  311 ;  total  destruction  of, 

i.  331 
Thermae  of  Consiantine,  remains 

of,  in  the  Colonna  gardens,  i. 

330 

ancient,  at  Albano,  ii.  360 

of  Diocletian,  i.  323 

of  Nero,  i.  64,  120,  371 

of  Titus,  i.  311 ;    paint- 
ings in,  i.  316;  temperature  of, 

i.  318 ;  remains  of  one  especially 

used    by  the  Emperors,  ibid. ; 

ruins  of,  i.  319 

Trajanse,  i.  3?3 

Thetis,  statue  of,  now   at  Paris, 

ii.  171 
Thorwaldsen,  the  first  sculptor  in 

rilievo  of  modern  times,  ii.  146; 

works  of,  ii.  304,  306 
Tiber,  first  view  of,  i.  64 ;  sacred 

island  of,  i.  87;  inundation  of 

the,  i.  274 


Digitized  by 


Google 


428 


IXDEX. 


Tiberius^  baths  of,  i.  141 ;  house  of, 
i.  136, 146;  triumphal  arch  of^  i. 
197 
Tibur,  ii.  332 ;  antiquity  of,  ibid. 
Tiburtine  stone,  of  which  St.  Peter's 

is  built,  i.  74 
Time,  mode  of  reckoning,  in  the 

south  of  Italy,  ii.  9  n. 
Titian,  picture  of  the  Graces,  by, 
*  ii.  125,  126 ;  sacred  and  profane 

Love,  by,  ibid.  See  Paintings, 
Titus,  baths  of,  i.  311;  triumphal 

arch  of,  i.  81,  341 
Tiyoli,  i.  89;  ii.  828  ;  cascades  of, 
ii.  329,  330;  beautiful  scenery  of, 
ii.  339;  temple  of  the  Sibyl  at, 
ii.  330;  its  projected  removal,  ii. 
331 
Tomb  of  AscaniuB,  ii.  360,  363 

< of  the  Archdukes,    in  the 

cathedral  of  Florence,  i.  9 

of  Cecilia  Metella,  the  most 

beautiful  sepulchral  monument 
in  the  world,  i.  365,  366 
— —  of  the  Claudian  family,  i.  358 

of  Clement  XII ,  i.  395 

■  of  Cosmo  de*  Medici,  i.  11 

Dante,  i.  16 

of  the  Empress  Helena,  i.  379 

of  the  Horatii  and  Curiatii, 

ii.  360,  663 

of  Lucullus,  ii.  348 

M.  Plautius  and  his  family, 

ii.  320 

of  the  Magnilla  family,  i.  366 

of  Michael  Angelo,  i.  12 

— ■ —  of  Nero,  i.  64 

of  Ovid,  i.  374 

of  Paul  III.,  i.  410 

Pompey,  ii.  360 

of  ^alvator  Rosa,  i.  326 

of  Santa  Constantia,  i.  376 

of  the  Scipios,  recent  dis- 
covery of,  i.  359 ;  reputed  tomb 
of  the,  i,  364 

of  the  Servilia  family,  i.  365 

of  the  Stuart  ftimily,  ii.  349 

of  St.  Peter,  i.  72,  406 


Tomb  of  Tasso,  ii.  24 

-—  TuUia,  ii.  360 

Urban  VIII.,  in  SL  Peter's, 

1.41 
of  Vibius  Marios,  at  Siena,  L 

86 
Tombs  of  the  Popes  in  St.  Peter's, 

i.  411 

of  the  Eomans,  i.  356,  35S 


form  and  arrangement  of,  i.  363: 
inscription  on  one  of  the  few  per- 
mitted within  the  city,  i.  357  n. 
streets  of  i.  356 

Torre  di  Quinto,  i.  372 

Torso,  the  favourite  study  of 
Michael  Angelo,  i.  94;  criticisms 
on  the,  by  Winkelman,  i.  94  n. 

Totila,  destruction  of  Aurelian's 
walls  by,  i.  118 ;  entry  of,  into 
Home,  i.  125;  threatened  de- 
struction of  the  city  by,  ibid. ; 
bridge  destroyed  by,  i.  337 

Tower  of  Cecilia  Metella,  i.  86 

' of  the  Capitol,  view  of  Eome 

from,  i.  85 

on  the  Ponte  Lucano,  ii.  320 

of  Nero,  i.  45 

Trajan,  forum  of,  i.  207;  famous 
equestrian  statue  of,  i,  210; 
triumphal  arch  of,  i.  211 ;  bark 
of,  discovered  in  the  Lake  of 
Nemi,  ii.  367 :  column  of,  i.  9^2, 
211,  ii.  371 

Trastevere,  that  part  of  Rome  be- 
yond the  Tiber,  ii.  19;  insalu- 
brious climate  of,  ii.  22 ;  church 
of  Santa  Maria  in,  ii.  23 

Travertine  stone,  used  in  Italian 
buildings,  i.  74 

Tre  Ore,  or  "  three  hours  of  agony," 
service  of  the,  ii.  191,  192 

Trevi,  fountains  of,  ii.  29 

Tribunal  named  the  Sessorium,  i. 
247 

Tribune,  gallery  of,  paintings  in 
the,  i.  6. 

in  the  Sistine  chapel,  ii. 

183 


Digitized  by 


Google 


INDEX. 


429 


Trinity  de'  Monti,  the  favourite 
residence  of  men  of  genius,  ii.  12; 
Tiew  of  the  illumination  of  St. 
Peter's  from,  ii.  209 

Triumphal  Way,  ii.  364 

Trophies  of  Marius,  on  the  Gapito- 
line  Hill,  i.  156 ;  ruins  of  the, 
ii.  161 

True  Cross,  portion  of  the,  exhi- 
bited in  the  church  of  Santa 
Croce,  i.  433 ;  discoyery  of,  at 
Jemsalem,  ibid.;  exhibition  of 
the,  at  St.  Peter's,  during  the 
Holy  Week,  ii.  189 

Tullia,  tomb  of,  ii.  360 

Tallian  Wall,  i.  119 

or  Mamertine  Prisons,  i. 

160 

TuUus  Hostilius,  extension  of  Borne 
by,  i.  114 

Tascnlum,  site  of,  ii.  343;  exca- 
vated ruins  of,  ii.  345 

Twins,  royal,  nurtured  by  a  wolf, 
i.  86;  Etruscan  statue  of,  i.  193; 
dedication  of,  1 192 


U. 

Ulpian  library. 

Unfinished      statues    by    Michel 

Angelo,  i.  10 
Unique  Grecian  sculpture,  i.  5,  34 
Urban  VIII.,  tomb  of,  i.  411 


V. 

Val  Aricia,  ii.  368 
Vale  of  Tempe,  ii.  828 

Murcia,  or  Myrtia,  i.  259 

Vallombrosa,  yineyards  and  olive- 
groves  of,  i.  21,  22 
Vase,  Portland,  ii.  67 
Vases,  ancient  and  modem,  i.  7 

in  the  gallery  of  the  Vatican, 

ii.  70 


Vases,  Antediluvian,  ii.  361 

Vatican,  description  of,  i.  91,  96  ; 
statues  of  heroes,  emperors,  and 
gods  in  the,  i.  93;  octagonal 
court  of,  i.  95 ;  hall  of  animals 
in  the,  i.  96;  origin  of  the  name, 
i.  98 ;  geographical  galleries  of, 
i.  101 ;  gallery  of  statues,  i.  108; 
library  of,  ii.  33,  88 ;  loggie  of 
the,  ii.  59 ;  museum  of,  ii.  61 ; 
picture-gallery  of,  i.  103 

Vegetation,  luxuriance  of,  in  the 
southern  climates,  i.  21 

Veii,  site  of  the  ancient  city  of, 
i.  373  ;  siege  of,  ii.  355 

Veil,  ceremony  of  taking,  ii.  215, 
218 

Velabrum,  the,  i.  192,  215 

Velletri,  reputed  birthplace  of 
Augustus,  ii.  369;  now  the 
resort  of  robbers,  ii.  374 

Venetian  school  of  painting,  ii 
39,  n ;  music  of,  ii.  261 

Venus,  Cnidian,  of  Praxiteles,  de- 
scription of,  by  Pliny,  i.  9 

of  Canova,  i.  9,  ii.  301 

di  Medicis,  description  of, 

i.  1,2 


■of  Titian,  i.  5 

temples  of,  i.  244,  247,  252 

Vesta,  temple  and  sacred  grove  of, 

i.  192 
Vestal  virgins,  first  institution  of, 

by  Numa,  i.  192 

■  buried  alive,  i.  271 ; 

Vesuvio,  the  generic  name  for  a 

volcano  in  Italy,  i.  43 
Vesuvius,  eruptions  of,  ii.  346,  n. 

place  of  interment,  i.  124 
Vetturino  travelling,  i.  24 
Via  Appia,  i.  146,  ii.  868, 384 

Argentina,  i.  364 

Cassia,  i.  53, 64 

Crucis,  i.  143 

Flaminia,  i.  64 

—  Latina,  the  modern  road  fo 
Prascati,  i.  389 ;  remains  of  an- 
tiquity on  the,  i.  390 


Digitized  by 


Google 


430 


iin>xx. 


Via  Komeataiut,  1 122,  335 

Nova,  i  201 

OstensiB,  ii.  386 

Sacra,  origin  of  the  term.  i.  87; 

description  of,  i.  200 

Triumphalia,  i.  82  ;  ii.  868 

Valeria,  i.  864 

Yibing  Marians,  tomb  of,  i.  64 
Yico,  lake  of,  i.  57 

de  Come\j,  i  79 

Yicns  Jugarius,  L  201 

TuBcoB,  i.  201,  f>. 

View  of  Florence,  i.  12 

of  Rome,  L  61,  85, 147, 148, 

425 
Villa  Adrianay  inyalnable  stataes 

found  in,  i.  98 
— —  Aldobmndini,  ii.  160,  841 
»—  Albani,  ii.  165;  mnseum  of, 

ibid. ;  description  of,  ii.  166 

Altieri,  ii.  161 

of  Archias,  the  poet,  il  386 

Barberini,  ii.  359 ;  view  from 

the  terrace  of,  ibid. 
of  Catullus,  ii.  835 

—  of  Cicero,  ii.  360 

of  Ciodius,  iL  359;  portico 

of,  ibid. 

of     Domitian,     scattered 

yestiges  of,  ii.  359 

d'Este.  erected  by  Cardinal 

Hippolito  d'Este,  ii.  336 

of  Qabinius,  ruins  of  the,  ii. 

345 

—  Giraud,  in  Trastcvere,  remark- 
able Casino  of,  ii.  162 

of  Horace,  ii.  335 

—  of  Hadrian,  ii.  321 ;  ruins  of, 
ii.  322,  326;  destruction  of, 
ii.  327 

Lanti,  ii.  162 

of  Lepidus,  ii.  336 

—  of  Liyia,  i.  874 

Ludovisi,  iL  149;  statues  and 

paintings  of,  ii.  150, 153 

Hadama,  on  Monte  Mario, 

li.  164 

—  Magnani  or  Spada,  L  144 


Villa  Masaimi,  i.  828 

Mattel,  ii.  162 

of  Mecsenas,  ii.  884 

Medicis,    on    the    Pineian 

Hill,  ii.  162 

MondrBgone>  ii.  342;  xiuig- 

n|ficent  avenues  of  the,  ibid. 

—  Palombara,  ii.  161 

—  Pamfili,on  Mount  Janiculum, 
ii.  162 

of  Piso,  ii  386 

—  of  Pliny  the  younger,  ii.  898 
Roman,  rooms  in  a,  i.  889 

Tusculan,  of  Cicero,  i.   89; 

mosaics  brought  from,  i.  100; 
site  of  the,  iL  343,  350 

of  Pompey,  ii.  359 ;  remains 

of,  ii.  360 

—  Gt  Propertius,  ii.  386 

of  Quintilius  Varus,  iL  835 

of  Vopiscus,  iL  836,  n. 

Villas  of  Modem  Rome,  ii.  156 
Viminal  Hill,  present  uncertainty 

of  its  locality,  L  176 ;  etymology 

of,  i.  77 
Vines  and  vineyards  of  Italy,  L  23; 

mode  of  cultivating,  in  Madeira, 

ibid. 
Vintage  feast,  in  Trastevere,  iL  22 
Virbius,  grove  of,  iL  867 
Virgil,  manuscript  copy  of,  in  the 

libraiy  of  Milan,  L  86 ;  house  of, 

175 
Virgin  Mary,  preference  given  to, 

as  an  object  of  worship  in  Italian 

churches,    L    15;     miraculous 

image    of,    L  25;    portrait    of, 

painted  by  St.  Luke,  LI  68;  house 

of,  L  434,  435 
Virglnius,  site  of  the  murder  of 

Virginia  by,  L  199 
Viterbo,  this   town    contains   28 

convents,  i.  58 ;  churches  o^  i. 

54,  55 

battle  of,  L  66 

mountains  of,  thedanical 


Ciminus,  i.  57 
Vivarium,  in  which  wild  beasts  mce 


Digitized  by 


Google 


INDEX. 


431 


kept  for  exhibition  in  the  Colos- 
seum, i.  297 
Volcanos,  i.  28,  ii.  347,  366,  367 
Volscian  Hills,  extent  of  the,  ii. 

378 
YoMnium.  site  of,  i.  48,  50 
Vulcan,  altar  of,  i.  199;  here  blood 
rained  from  heaven  for  2  days, 
ibid. 


W. 

Walls  of  Aurelian,  i.  116, 118 
Walls   of  the  city,  and  Praetorian 

camp,  i.  121 
Cyclopean,  remains  of,  at 

Cora,  ii.  370;  peculiar  formation 

of,  ii  371 
at    Palestrina, 

ii.  371 
of  the  palace  of  the  CsBsars, 

built  of  brick,  i.  242;  durability 

of,  i.  243 

of  Rome,  i.  113,  115,119; 


ancient  buildings  comprised  in 
them,  i.   120,   122 ;  vestiges  of 
antiquity  found  in  the,  i.  119 
of  Republican  Rome,  i.  271 


Walls  of  Servius  TuUius,  i.  119 

271 
Waterloo  Bridge,  Canova*s  opinion 

of,  i.  339,  w. 
Whetter,  Remouleur  or  Arrotino, 

i.  2,  4 ;   Livy's  account  of  the 

statue,  i.  3 
Wild  beasts  for  the  Amphitheatre, 

fed  with  criminals,  i.  291 ;  com- 
bats of,  ibid. ;  dens  for,  i.  297 
-^-  Boars   in    the    vicinity    of 

Rome,  ii.  296 
Windows,  adaptation  of  to  Gothic 

architecture,  not  to  Grecian,  i. 

73;    disputed   existence    of  in 

Roman    houses,    i.    131,    132, 

133,  n. 
Wolf  and  Twins,  bronze  statue  of, 

i.  193 ;  ii.  86 
Wool,  sacred,  manufactured    into 

robes  for  the  Archbishops,  ii.  234 
Works  in  precious  stones,  i.  7 
Wrestlers,  the  famous  group  of,  in 

the  Florentine  Gallery,  i.  4 

Xystum,  or  place  for  wrestling,  i. 
325 

Zelum,  or  asylum  for  outlaws,  i. 
157 


Digitized  by 


Google 


PKIITTED  BY  nABBISON  AND  SOK, 

LONDON  CSAZETTE  OFFICE,  ST.  HAXTIK'S  LANK; 

AND 

OSCHAEO  STBKKT,  WISTMINSTSa. 


Digitized  by 


Google 


^  SbeUtt  eatalogtu  ti 
NEW  BOOKS  AT  REDUCED  PRICES, 

PUBLISnxO  ox  SOLD  BT 

HENRY  G.  BOHN, 

YORK  STREET,  COVENT  GARDEN,  LONDON. 


THX    COltPLSTX  CATALOOUS  OF  MKW  BOOKS  AND   XXHAIHOSXS,  IS   100  PAOM,  XAt 

BE  HAD  GKATIS. 

*«*  JU  the  Books  advertised  i»  the  present  Catalogut  are  ueatlf  hoarded  U  elotk, 
or  hound. 


FINE  ARTS.  ARCHITECTURE.  SCULPTURE,  PAINTINO,  HERALDRY, 
ANTIQUITIES,  TOPOGRAPHY,  SPORTING,  PICTORIAL  AND  HIGHLY 
ILLUSTRATED  WORKS,  ETC.  ETC. 


\NCLER  S  SOUVENIR.  Feap.  Sro,  embellUhed  w!tk  upward!  of  66  beavUtal  EofniTlng*  on 
Ste«I  by  Bbckwith  and  Totham,  and  hundreds  of  engravtfd  Borders.  eTory  pace  being  sur- 
rounded (pub.  at  18«.),  doth,  gilt,  »«.  7W,  ISSf 

ARTIST'S  BOOK  OF  FABLES,  conmrisin*  a  Series  of  Original  Fftbles,  fliuatrated  by  166 
exquisitely  beautiful  Engravings  on  wood,  by  Haktby  and  other  eminent  Artists,  after  De- 
signs by  the  late  Jaus  Northcotx,  ILA.  Poet  Sto,  Portrait  (pub.  at  1/.  U.),  cloth, 
gilt,  9«.  1846 

BARBER'S  ISLE  OF  WIGHT.  42  fine  Steel  Plates,  and  Dk.  Maittsu's  Gbolmical  Mav. 
STO,  gilt,  cloth,  10«.  6d.  1646 

BEWICK'S  SELECT  FABLES,  with  a  Memoir,  8to,  with  several  Portraits  of  Bewick,  and 
upwards  of  350  Engravings  on  Wood,   original   impressions   (pub.  at  U.  1«.),  bds.  lOi* 

JVewewiAr,  ISSO 

BILUNGTON'S  ARCHITECTURAL  DIRECTOR,  being  an  approved  Guide  to  ArehU 
tecta.  Draughtsmen,  Students,  Builders,  and  Workmen,  to  which  is  added  a  History  of  the- 
Art,  he.  and  a  Glossary  of  Architecture.  New  Edition,  enlarged,  8vo,  166  Plates,  cloth  lettered 
(pub.  at  \L  8«.)  10«.  M.  1848 

BOOK  OF  COSTUME,  from  the  earliest  period  to  the  present  time.  Upwards <$f  200  beautiftd 
Sogravhtga  on  Wood,  by  Luttov.    8vo  (pub.  at  U.  1«.),  gilt  cloth,  gilt  edges,  16f.  M,         1647 

BOOK   OF   GEMS,    OR    THE   POETS  AND  ARTISTS   OF  GREAT  BRITAIN. 

3  vols.  8to.  150  exquisite  Line  Engravings  after  ToKyBR,  Boni  kgtoit,  Laxdbbbb,  Robbrtm, 
HvLRBAST,  etc.  etc.;  also  numerous  Autographs  (pub.  at  4^  14«.  M.)  Cloth  eiegantly  gilt, 
3i.  &«.,  or  in  morocco,  3/.  3«. 

BOOK  or  GEMS,  OR  THE    MODERN   POETS  AND  ARTISTS  OF  GREAT 

BRITAIN.  8vo.  50  exquisitely  beautiful  Line  Engravings  after Tvkmbk,  Bovuraiov,  etc. 
etc  (pub.  at  U.  lit.  Cd.),  cloth  elegantly  gilt,  15«.,  or  morocco,  \L  1«.  1644 

BOOK  OF  RAPHAEL'S  CARTOONS,  BY  CATTERMOLE.  8vo.  with  an  exquisite 
Portrait  of  Ra]ihael,  a  View  of  HHmnton  Court,  and  seven  very  hirhly  finished  Steel  Engrav- 
ings of  the  celebrated  Cartoons  at  Hamptni.  Court  (pub.  at  13«.),  cloth,  gilt,  7t.  M,  1646 

BOOK  OF  SHAKSPEARE  GEMS.  A  Series  of  Landscape  lUustrations  of  the  most  inte- 
resting localities  of  Shakspeare's  Dramas;  with  Histories]  and  Descriptive  Accounto,  by 
Washivotov  Ixtiko,  Jbssb,  W.  Howitt,  WoKnswoBTH,  Ihglib,  and  others,  svo, 
wiA  4S  highly-finished  Steel  Engravic^s  (pub.  at  1/.  lU.  Cc/.)  gilt  cloth,  I4s.  ',i64S 

BOOK  OF  WAVER  LY  GEMS.  A  Series  or 64  hlghly-fiolihed  Line  Engravings  of  th^  uect 
interesting  Incidents  and  dcenerr  in  Walter  Scarfs  Me  veis,  o/  ^iBAta,  rxBDBV,  Rolls  iSBd 
etiiers.  after  Pictures  l)y  Leslie,  SroTHARn,  Coopkr,  He  warp,  ftc-.,  with  iUostntive  VMn^ 
,  STO.  (pub.  at  11.  lis.  U. ),  cloth,  elegantly  gUt,  lie.  if  4t 

B 

Digitized  byVjOOQlC 


CATALOOUB  OF  NEW  BOOKS 


BROCKEDON'S  PASSES  OF  THE  ALPS,    t  toIi.  m«Uom  4to.   Coatalnijig  log  beavtife. 
EDKraringi  (pub.  at  lOL  lOt.  in  boards),  balf-bouad  moreeoo,  gilt  cdgM,  iLlZ»,6d,  u» 


BRtTTON'S  CATHEDRAL  CHURCH  ,QF  UNCOLM,  4to.  ufina  PUtet,  by  Lb  Kbxtx. 
(pab.  at  3/.  U.),  clotli,  U.  U.    lU^al  «to,  Lwf*  Paper,  doth  !«.  11«.  «d.  18S7 

ThU  vMuma  vaa  publlalMd  to  eomploto  Mr.  Britton's  Catbedrait,  aad  Is  wastlnc  in  most  of 
the  sets. 

BRYAN'S  OICTfONARY  OF  PAINTBR8  ANP  ENORAVERB.  V^  Edition,  cor. 
rrcted,  freatljr  ealarged,*lu)d  continnod  to  th«  present  time,  by  Oaonon  Staviat,  Esq.,  oon- 
plete  in  one  laqfe  voliune,  impL  Sto,  namoroos  plates  of  monocranu,  tL  ii. 

BULWER'S  PILGRIMS  OF  THE  RHINE.  l«o.  Babelltoliod  with  27  exocdslte  Line  Bn- 
vraviugs  after  l>avid  Roberts,  MaellM,  and  Partis  (pab.  at  1/.  11«.  6d.),  cloth  gilt,  14«. 

BURNETTS  ILLUSTRATED  EDITIQN  Of  BIR  X)6HUA  REYNOLDS  ON 
PA i NTIN 0. 4to,  12  line  Plates,  clouT (pabl  at  It.  U. ),  U.  U.  ISU 

■  the  same,  large  papar,  royal  4to,  proof  impressions  of  Platos,  cloth  (pub.  at  41  4s.),  8f.  U. 

CANOVA'S  WORKS,  oagmved  la  ontUne  by  Moses,  with  Descriptions  and  a  Biographical 
Memoir  by  CicoKoara.  S  Tols.  imp.  Svo,  IM  plates,  and  fine  Portrait  by  Worthington,  half' 
bound  morocco  (pub.  atO<.  12«.)  it.  fit. 

■  tlie  same,  3  toIs.  4to,  large  paper,  balf-bonnd,  uncot  (pab.  at  9U  ISt,),  4<  it. 

*  the  same,  9  voU.  «to,  la^e  paper,  India  Proofs,  in  pmn»\  (pub.  at  ISL  lit,)  tU  10«. 

CARTER'S  ANCIENT  ARCHITECTURE  OF  ENGLAND.  IQastrated  by  103  Copper. 
ploxc  Engravings,  comprising  irp wards  of  Two  TbousMid  tpeeimcoa*  JStUtod  by  Jaiur  BttJx- 
tON,  Esa.    Royal  foHo  (pub.  at  124  ia«.),  half-bound  morocco,  4;.  4«.  1837 

CARTERS    ANCIENT    SCULPTURE    AND    PAINTING    NOW    REMAINING 

IN  ENGI^ND,  from  the  Earliest  Period  to  the  Reign  of  Henry  VIII.  With  UUtorieal  aad 
Critical  Illastrations,  by  Doi;ck.  Ooooh,  Mkvkick,  Dawbox  Tvkvbr,  and  Burrox. 
Royal  folio,  with  120  large  Engravings,  many  of  which  are  beautifUly  coloured,  and  aeTml 
illuminated  with  gold  (pub.  at  lU.  1A«<),  half-beond  moroooo,  %U  ««.  1838 

QARTER'^  ^JHIP  AMMITfl^TlJftE.  nA  Auikutx  Biiiitfi«s  In  Englaad,  «itiL  120 
Viewtf,  etched  by  himsclL    4  vols,  square  12mo  (puh.  at V.  2t.)„bfttf  noroeco,  Us.  1824 

CATLIN'S  NORTH  AMERICAN  INDIANS.  S  vols.  Imp],  tvo.  sm  Eagiavinga  (pub.  at 
2L  12*.  6d.),  cloth,  emblematically  gilt,  1^  Mto.  1648 

CATTERMOLE'8  EVENINGS  AT  HAQDON  HA1«L  S4«»i«lrftoBtgnM4aM«m8tBel« 
f^om  Designs  by  himselt   Post  8vo  (ortginaUy  pub.  at  1/.  lis.  M.),  gUt  cloth, «ilt«dges,  7*.  6dL 

CHAMBERLAINE'S  IMITATIONS  OF  DRAWINGS  from  the  Great  Masters,  in  tlie 
rai  Collection,  engmved  by  Bajltou 
r*boai>d  morocco,  gili  edges,  iL  U. 

CJJVUOrS  LIBER  VERITATIS.    A  Collection  of  SOO  Engravings  in  imitation  of  the  original 

Drawings  of  Claodx,  by  Ea&lok.   3  vols,  folio  (pub.  at  31^  10«.),  half-bound  morooen,  gilt 

edges,  lOL  lOfc 
CLAUDE,  BEAUTIES  OF,  24  FINE  ENGRAVINGS,  containii*  none  of  hie  choicest 

Landscapes,  heautiftoUy  EagcaTed  on  8te«J»  folio,  withdeteiiptivo  tettes»srM«,aiidP<utraii» 

in  a  portfoUo  (pub.  at3A  12f.)i  U*  A«> 

OOESVELT'S  PICTURE  GALLERY.  With  an  Introdactlon  by  Mu.  Jamxsov.  Royal  4to 
M  Plates  beauUftilly  engraved  in  outliM*  India  Proob  (pah.  at  U.  &i.),  haU-bouad  morocco 
extra,  il.  f.  lae 

COOKE'S  SHIPPING  AND  CRAFT.  A  teries  of  U  brilliaiktiStcUBta,  comprising  Pictur- 
esque, but  at  the  same  time  extremely  acearatoRepreaentationa.  Royal 4lo(pab.at  Si.  Ma.M.}, 
gilt  cloth, !(.! !«.()((. 

COOKES  PICTURESQUE  SCENERY  OF  LONDON  AND  ITS  WIClNmr.  Whcau- 
tiful  Etcbiugs,  after  Drawings  by  CaIiCott,  SxAnnxtD,  Pkoux,  Roaskxs,  Haabixg, 
SxASJC,  and  CoTXAV.    Royal  4to.    Proo|li<pab.at«i.),giiteloth,  3^2«. 

CONEY'S   FOREIGN   CATHEDRALS,   HOTELS  OE    VILLE,   TOWN    Hia.LS, 

AND  OTHER  REMARKABLE  BUILDINGS  IN  FRANCE,  HOLLAND,  GERMANY, 
AND  ITALY.  t>  flua  large  Plates.  Imperial  foUo  Cpnb.  atlM.  10«.},  half  morocco,  gilt  edges, 
«;.13«.8a.  184S 

CORNWALL,  AN  ILLUSTRATED  ITINERARY  OF:  liieludlagHlitQiieal  aadDeaeiip- 
tive  Accounts.  Imperial  8vo,  illustrated  by  118  beau tiiUl Engravings  on  Steel ai>d  Wood,  by 
Laxoxlls,  UixcMCLU'n,  JAOxaov,  WiXiUAMs,  8XiY,  etc  altar  dxawinga  bgr  Cuowxck. 
(Puh.  at  16«.),  half  morocco,  8i.  1842 

Cornwall  is  uitdovbtedly  the  most  interesting  county  in  England. 

CORONATION  OF  QiORGE  THE  FOURTH,  bySn  Oboros  NAnj(»,  in  a9«rtoa  of 

above  40  magnificent  Paintings  of  the  Procession,  Ceremonial,  and  Banqunt,  compreiMnding 
fititbful  portiaiu  of  many  of  the  distinguished  Individuals  who  were  present;  with  hisaorical 
and  descriptive  letter-preee,  atlaa  folio  (pub.  at  HI.  10s.),  half  bound  moraceq^filt  •dges, 
12^.  12«. 

COTMAN-S  SEPULCHRAL  BRASSES  IN  NORFOLK  AND  SUFFOLK,  tandSng  to 
illnstrate  the  Ecclesiastical,  Military,  and  Civil  Costume  of  former  aoes,  with  Letter-press 
Descriptioas,  etc.  by  Dawson  Tuaxna,  Sir  S.  Mbtxiok,  etc.  173  Plates.  The  enaaaelled 
Brass%«  are  splendidly  illuminated,  2  vols.  impl.  4tu  half-bound  morocco,  gilt  edges,  6^  6k.  IkSC 

— — —  tas  saae,  larg^  pa;ter,  imperial  folio,  half  aoxoocs,  iUl  oJl£«a,  it,  it. 


Royal  Collection,  engmved  by  B  ajltoi,oux  and  others,  impl.  fol.  70  Plates  (pub.  at  12<.  12«.  j, 


Digitized  by 


Google 


PUBLISHED  OB  SOLD  BT  H^  a«  B0II17. 


CffrMANS  ETCHINeS  OF  ARCHITECTURAL  RtWAIWS  to  ^arfoiit  cMirtlMta 
iSgland,  with  L«tt«r-preM  D«cripliwi»  by  Aickm  a».  2  »«to.  imp«rial  toUo,  containlos  UQ 
nif^  tplrited  Etchings  (pub.  at  a«.),  balfraoroooo,  81.  S«.  1»8 

DANIELL'S  ORIENTAL  SCENERY  AND  ANTIQUITIES.  The  original  raawiacent 
•ditlDii.  150  splendid  coiourad  Vtewa,  on  the  largest  iieate,  of  the  Architeeture,  Antiquttiea,  and 
Landscape  Soenerr  of  Hlndoostan,  6  vols.  In  8,  elephant  folio  (pub.  at  2l0t,),  elegantly  half- 
bound  moroeeo,  522. 10s. 

DANIELL'S  ORIENTAL  SCENERY.  6  toIs.  In  8,  snuU  folio,  150  Plates  (pub.  at  IH.  18<. 
baif-boucd  inoroeco,  61. 6*.  .        ,  .  .         . 

Thift  is  reduced  Zrom  the  preceding  large  wosk,  and  is  uncoloofed* 

DANIELL'S  AI>flMATED  NATURE,  being  Picturesque  Delineatinns  of  the  most  Intevesting 
Sahiects  from  all  Branches  of  Natural  History,  125  Engravings,  with  Letter-pres«  T'>B*vtM»ilon» 
2  Tels.  small  folio  (pub.  at  1S<.  !&•.)•  half  morocco  (uniform  with  the  Oriental  Scenery),  it,  3«. 


DON  QUIXOTE,  PICTORIAL  EDITION.  Translated  by  Jakvis,  car«fUlly  revised. 
WlUi  a  copious  origtaal  Memoir  of  Cervantes.  Illustrated  by  upwards  of  820  beautiftil  Wood 
Engravings,  after  the  celebrated  Designs  of  Toxv  Johamkot,  including  16  new  and  beautiful 
large  Cuts,  by  A&hstrono,  now  first  added.  2  vols,  royal  8vo  (pub.  at  2^.  lOt.),  cloth  gl.t, 
li.  St.  1W9 

DULWICH  QALLERY.  a  Series  of  50  BeaatilUlly  Coloured  Plates  from  the  most  Celebrated 
Pictures  in  this  Renuirkahle    Collection;   executed  by  R.  CocKBOaH    (Custodian^.     All 


*  This  is  one  of  the  most  splendid  and  interesting  « 
forsome  years  been  quite  unatuinable,  even  at  the  full  price.' 

EOYIT  AMD  THE'  PYRAMIDS.-COL.  VYSES^  GREAT  WORK  ON  THE 
PYRAMIDS  OP  GIZEH.  With  an  Appendix,  by  J.  S.  Ferwno,  Es«.,  on  the  Pyramids  at 
A9>«tt  Roash,  the  Fayoum,  &c.  &c.  2  vols,  imperial  8vo,  with  66  Plates,  litliogtapbed  by 
HA9HS  (pub.  at  21,  12«.  6d.),  1^  Is.  IMO 

EGYPT— PERRINGS   FIFTY-EIGHT  LARGE  VIEWS  AND  ILLUSTRATIONS  OF 

THE  PYRAMIDS  OF  OIZEH,  ABOU  ROASH,  Stc.  Drawn  from  actual  Survey  and 
Admeasurement.  With  Notes  and  References  to  Col.  Vyse's  great  Work,  also  to  Denon,  the 
neat  French  Work  on  Egypt,  RoselUni,  Belzuni,  Burckhardt,  Sir  Gardner  Wilkinson,  Lane, 
and  others.  3  Parts,  elephant  folio,  the  size  of  the  great  French  '*  Egypte"  (pub.  at  iil,  ISa.y 
In  printed  wrappers^  U,  3*.i  half-boend  morocco,  U.  14*.  Ad.  1843 

ENGLEFIELD'S  ISLE  OF  WIGHT.  4to.  so  laxgt  Flatee,  EagraTed  bj  CooKXt  and  a  Geo 
logical  Map  (pub.  7L  7«.),  cloth,  2/.  U.  1816 

FLAXMAN'S  HOMEI?.  Serenty-flve  beautlf\t1  Compositions  to  the  Iliad  and  Odysbmt, 
engraved  under  Flaxmas's  inspection,  by  Fmou,  Mosxs,  and  BLakk.  2  vols,  oblong  fvlld 
( pab.  at  5^  5fc ),  boards  2/.  2s.  ISOi 

FLAXMAN'S  /ESCHYLUS,  Thirty-ilx  beautlAil  Composidona  from.  Obleng  fblio  (pub.  at 
21.  Iflfc  6d.),  boards  11.  It.  1831 

FLAXMAN'S  HESIOD»  Thirty-seven  beautifbl  Compositions  from.     Oblong  fblio  (pub.  at 

3<.  12«.6d.),  boards  U.5«.  1817 

"  Flaxman's  unequalled  Compositions  fri>m  HcHner.  .Ssehylos,  attd  Hesiod.  have  long 

hevn  the  admiration  of  Europe;  of  their  simplicity  and  beauty  the  pen  is  quite  incapable  of 

conveying  an  adequate  impression."— 5ir  Tkoman  Lawrence. 

FLAXMAN'S  ACTS  OF  MERCY.  A  Series  of  Eight  Compositions,  In  the  manner  of 
Ancient  Sculpture,  engraved  in  imitation  of  the  originai  Dtawiugs,  by  F.  C.  Lxwx*.  Oblong 
folio  (pub.  at  2L  2«.),  half-bound  morocco,  16t.  1831 

FROtSSART.  ILLUMINATED  ILLUSTRATIONS  OF.  Seventy-four  Plates,  printed  in 
Oeld  and  CNiloars.    2  vols,  super-royal  8vo,  half-bound,  uncut  (pub.  at  4/.  10«. ),  it.  10*. 

.  the  sams,  large  paper,  2  vols,  royal  4to,  half-bound,  anout  (pub.  at  lo:.  lOe.),  6/.  6*. 

0£LL  AND  GANDY'S    POMPEIANA ;   or,  /ipography.  Edifices,  and  Ornaments  c/ 

Pompeii.  Original  Series,  containing  the  Resiftt'of  the  Excavations  previous  to  1811,  2  vols, 
reyafsvo,  best  edition,  with  upwards  of  100  beautiful  Line  Engravinga  by  Ooodai.l,  Cookk 
HSATH,  PtB,  etc.  (pub.  at  ?/.  4s.),  boards,  U.  St.  1824 

QEM8  OF  ART,  36  FINE  ENGRAVINGS,  alter  Rbxbsaitbt,  Cvtt,  Rbtvoldh,  Povs- 
sis,  MvRD.io,  Tbhibrs,  Cobbboio,  VAX  DBS  vblux,  folio,  prooflmpressions,  in  portfolio 
(pub.at8/.8«.),  W.  llt.6d. 


(sKaetiy 

-    :,  gilt  ed^es,  8<.  H. 

GILPIN'S   PRACTICAL   HINTS  UPON    LANDSCAPE  GAROEWNG»   wiUi  i 
~        '  ■  en  Domtstie  Aitsliiteeture.    Royal  ixo,  Plates,  cloth  (pub.  at  If.),  7«. 


QOETHE'S  FAUST,  ILLUSTRATED  BY  RETZSCH   in 
mjp9t.  at  \L  is.),  gllLcloth,  Mto.  «•    ^       .  ,    . 
This  adOtton  oontaiu  a  traaslatiea  oT  the  efficiail  potm,  wxm  1 


28  beautUU  Outlines.    BAyM 
htetori^Al  anddeseripUve  notes. 
B   2 


CATALOGUE  OF  NEW  BOOKS 


GOODWIN'S  DOMESTIC  ARCHITECTURE.  ▲  BerlM  of  New  Daigas  for  MnslMMk 
villas.  Rcetoiy-Hottscs,  P«x«onag«-H<>u*M;  BailUTs,  Oardener'a,  OanM^ceper's,  aiid  Park- 
Gate  LodKes:  Cottacca  and  other  Residences,  in  the  Orcclan,  Italian,  and  Old  English  Stvle 
of  Aichitectoie :  with  Batimates.    3  toU.  royal  4to,  96  Platos  (pab.  at  M.  ft*.)*  cloth,  iU  Its.  fid. 

/^RINDLArS  (CAPT.)  VIEWS  IN  INDIA,  SCENERY,  COSTUME,  AND  ARCHI- 
TECTURE :  chlfOr  on  the  Western  Side  of  India.    Atlas  4to.    Consisting  of  S6  most  beauU- 


:hl*<lr  OB  the  Western  Side  of  India.    Atlas  4to.    Consisting  of  S6  most  beauti- 
Plates,  hIglilT  flniahed,  in  imiution  of  Drawlnfs;   vith  DeacripUw  Lettet- 
It  12/.  12«.),  half-hoand  morocco,  gilt  edges.  U,  8«.  lS3t 

ps  tha  most  exqaisltely-ooloured  volume  of  landscapes  ever  produced. 

HANSARD'S  ILLUSTRATED  BOOK  OF  ARCHERY.  Being  the  complete  Hlstoiy  and 
Practice  of  the  Art:  Interspersed  vith  namerous  Anecdotes;  forming  a  completa  Manual  far 
tit  Howman.  8vo.  Illustrated  by  39  beautiful  Line  EngraTlngs,  exquisitely  finished,  liv 
EvoLBHaAAT,  PoKTBVRT,  otc,  after  Designs  by  Stkphaxofv  (pub.  at  U.  lU.fid.),  gilt  doth, 
10«.  9d. 

HARRIS'S  GAME  AND  WILD  ANIMALS  OF  SOUTHERN  AFRICA.  Lam  Impl. 
folio.  SO  beautlfUly  coloured  EngraTlngs,  with  SO  YignetCea  of  Heads,  SkiJu,  te.  (pnb.  at 
10/.  lOf.),  hf.  morocco,  0/.  St.  1844 

HARRIS'S  WILD  SPORTS  OF  SOUTHERN  AFRICA.  Impl.  Sro.  K  baaatlAUIy  eo. 
loured  Engravings,  and  a  Map  (pub.  at  ML  Is.),  gilt  cloth,  gilt  edges,  If.  U.  lu* 

HEATH'S  CARICATURE  SCRAP  BOOK,  on 60SheeU,conUinlngap«ardaofl000 Comic 
Subjects  after  Sbtmouk,  Cruiksujlvx,  Phis,  and  oth«r  eminent  Caricaturists,  oblong  folio 
(pub.  at  2/.  U.),  cloth,  giU,  li$. 

This  clever  and  enterUlning  volume  Is  now  enlarged  bv  ten  additional  sheets,  each  eon- 
taining  numerous  subjects.  It  Includes  the  whole  of  Heath's  Omnium  Oatherum,  both  Series ; 
Illustrations  of  Demonolofty  and  Witchcraft ;  Old  Ways  and  New  Wars;  Nautical  DIctlonajy ; 
Scenes  in  London ;  Sayings  and  Doings,  etc. ;  a  series  of  humorous  illustrations  of  Proverbs, 
etc.  As  a  laiig«  and  almost  infinite  storehouse  of  humour  it  stands  alone.  To  tha  yvang 
artist  it  would  be  found  a  most  valuable  collection  of  studies;  and  to  the  fhmilj  circle  a  coa- 
atant  source  of  unexceptionable  amusement. 

HOGARTH'S  WORKS  ENGRAVED  BY  HIMSELF,  iss  fine  PUt««  (lacladlw  tlw  twa 
well-known  "  nuppressed  Plates*'),  with  elaborate  Letter- press  Descriptions,  by  J.  NiCHOLa. 
Atlas  folio  (pub.  at  50/.),  half-bound  morocco,  gilt  back  and  edges,  with  a  secret  pocket  for 
suppressed  plates,  7/.  7«.  ISSS 

HOLBEIN'S  COURT  OF  HENRY  THE  EIGHTH.  A  Series  of  M  exquiaitely  beautiftil 
Portraits,  engraved  by  Bartolozzi,  Coopbr,  and  others,  in  imitation  of  the  original' 
Drawings  preserved  in  the  Royal  Collection  at  Windsor;  with  Historical  and  Biographical' 
Letter-press  by  Edicvvd  Lodoe,  Esq.  Published  by  Johv  Chambbrlaixb.  Imperial  4to 
(pid).  at  15/.  15«.),  half-bound  morocco,  ftill  gilt  back  and  edges,  iL  15t.  W.  ISU 

HOFLAND'S  BRITISH  ANGLER'S  MANUAL:  Edited  by  Edwabo  Jbsbb,  Es«.;  or. 

the  Art  of  Angling  in  England,  Scotland,  Wales,  and  Ireland;  ucluding  a  Piscatorial  Account 
of  the  principal  Rivers,  Lakes,  and  Trout  Streams;  wiUi  Instructions  in  Fly  Pishing,  TrolBng, 
and  Angling  of  everv  Description.  With  upwards  of  M  exquisite  Plates,  many  of  which  are 
highly-Bnished  Landscapes  engraved  on  Steel,  the  remainder  beautifully  engtaved  on  Wood. 
Svo,  elegant  in  gilt  cloth,  12«.  lUS 

HOPE'S  COSTUME  OF  THE  ANCIENTS.  Illustrated  In  upwards  of  S20  bwrnUIUly- 
engraved  Plates,  containing  RepresentaUons  of  Egyptian,  Greek,  and  Roman  Habiu  and 
Dresses.  2  vols,  royal  Svo,  New  Edition,  with  nearly  20  additional  Plates,  boaids,  reduced 
to2/.5..  .  /  .  -.         ^^^ 

HOWARD  (FRANK)  ON  COLOUR,  as  a  Meavs  of  Art,  being  an  adaptation  of  the  Expe- 
rience of  Professors  to  the  practice  of  Amateurs,  illustrated  by  18  coloured  Flataa,  post  svo, 
cloth  gilt,  8«.  — ,r-         » 

In  this  afile  volume  are  shown  the  ground  colours  in  which  the  most  celebrated  palntera 
worked.  It  is  very  valuable  to  the  connoisseur,  as  well  as  the  student,  in  painting  and  water- 
colour  drawing. 

HOWARD'S  (HENRY,  R.  A.)  LECTURES  ON  PAINTING.  Delivered  «t  the  Boyal 
Academy,  with  a  Memoir,  by  his  son,  Fbakk  Howabd,  large  post  Svo,  cloth,  7t.  M.  ISIS 

HOWARD'S  (FRANK)  SPIRIT  OF  SHAKSPEARE.    48S  fine  outline  Platea.  illuatratlve  of 

all  the  principal  Incidents  in  the  Dramas  of  our  national  Bard,  5  vols.  Svo  (pub.  at  l4i.S«.)« 

cloth,  2/.  2«.  1827--3S 

•»*  Tlie  483  Plates  nUiy  be  had  without  the  letter-press,  for  Ulustratiag  all  Svo  ediUons  of 

Shakspeare,  for  1/.  lit.  Cd. 

HUMPHREYS  (H.  NOEU  ART  OF  ILLUMINATION  AND  MISSAL  PAINTINa 

illustrated  with  12  splendid  Examples  flrom  the  Orcat  Masters  of  the  Art,  aelectad  Atom  MlasaU, 
all  beautlAilly  illuminated.    Square  12mo,  decorated  blading,  1/.  It. 

HUMPHREY'S  COINS  OF  ENGLAND,  a  Sketch  of  the  progreea  of  the  English  i 

from  the  earliest  period  to  the  present  time,  with  228  beautiAd  fae*similes  of  the  most  I 

ing  specimens,  illumiuated  in  gold,  silver,  and  copper,  square  Svo,  neatly  decorated  binding,  IS*. 

"Ky"^^E.XAMPLES  OF  TUDOR  ARCHITECTURE  ADAPTED  TO  MODERN 
HABITATIONS.    Royal  4to,  S7  PUtes  (pub.  at  2/.  2t.),  half  morocco  1/.  4«. 

**"il'n?i,Pf®'pNS  FOR  PARSONAGE-HOUSES,  ALMSHOUSES^  ETC.  Boyal 
4*.<VV  Plates  (p'^b.  at  1/.  It.),  half  monii.^n,  lis.  ^  ISU 


Digitized  by 


Google 


FUBLISHED  OR  SOLD  BT  H.  Q.  BOHK. 


»*'S'''^.P^1S'!!*  ^O"  J^i^T^  lr9P^^^f  GAMEKEEPERS-  COTTAGES,  ETC. 

Aojral  4to,  13  Platei  ( pau.  at  II.  It. ),  half  morocoo,  lU.  IM 1 

HUNTS  ARCHITETTURA  CAMPESTRE;  OR,  DESIGNS  FOR  LODGES,  OAR- 
DBNERS'  HOUSES,  etc.  IM  THE  ITALIAN  STYLE.  »  Plates,  royal  4to  (pub.  it 
U.  1«.),  halfmorooco,  14s.  1827 

ILLUMINATED  BOOK  OF  CHRISTMAS  CAROLS,  aqoan  Sro.  14  Boidcn  inoinlnated 
iB  Gold  and  Coloun,  and  4  beaatiful  Minlatuni,  richly  OmauMBltd  Binding  (pub.  at  U.  5«. ). 

15«.  1846 

ILLUMINATED  BOOK  OF  NEEDLEWORK,  By  Mm.  Owxk.  withaHistoiT  oTKeedle. 
work,  by  the  Couktxss  of  Wiliok,  Colonred  Plates,  post  syo  (pob.  at  Ut.),  gilt  cloth,  ite.   1847 

ILLUMINATED  CALENDAR  FOR  1850.  Copied  from  a  celebrated  If  issal  known  as  the 
*'  Hoars  "  of  the  Duke  of  Anjou,  Imperial  8to,  36  exquisite  Miniatures  and  Borders,  in  gold  and 
colours.  Ornamented  Binding  (pub.  at  2/.  2t.},  15«. 

ILLUSTRATED  FLY-FISHER'S  TEXT  BOOK.  A  Complete  Guide  to  the  Science  of  Trent, 
and  Salmon  Fishing.  By  Thbophxlub  Sovth.  Gent.  (Ed.  Chittt,  Babjustsr).  With 
23  beautidt]  Engravings  on  Steel,  alter  Paintings  by  Coopxx,  NxwiOK,  Fxeldiko,  Lee,  and 
others.    8T0  (pub.  at  U.  lit.  6d,),  cloth,  gilt,  lOt.  6d.  IMS 

ITALIAN  SCHOOL  OF  DESIGN.  Consisting  of  too  Plates,  chiefly  engraTcd  by  Bakto- 
z.ozei,  after  the  original  Pictures  and  Drawings  of  Guerciho,  MiCHABt.  AxeEZA,  Dombvi- 
CHixo,  AmriBALB,  LvBOVico,  and  Agostivo  Cakacci,  Pietro  da  Cobtoha,  Carlo  Ma- 
3LATTI,  and  others,  in  the  Collection  of  Her  Majesty.  Imperial  4to  (pub.  at  1(0. 10*.),  half  mo- 
roeeo,  gilt  edges,  it.  it.  1812 

JAMES'  (G.  P.  R.)  BOOK  OF  THE  PASSIONS,  royal  8yo,  Uhistrated  with  16  splendid 
Line  EngraTinn,  after  drawii^eby  Edward  Courbould  STSrHAVoFr  Chalov,  Kehmt 
MsAoows,  and  Jevkixs;  engraved  under  the  superintendence  of  Charles  Heath.  New 
and  iminroved  edition  (Jvsi  pobliahedj,  elegant  ia  gilt  cloth,  gilt  edges  (pub.  at  ll.  lu.  6cf.), 
IS*. 

JAMESON'S  BEAUTIES  OF  THE  COURT  OF  CHARLES  THE  SECOND.  ItoU. 
Inpl.  8vo,  n  beautlAil  Portndti  (pub.  at  U.  Sfc),  cloth,  U.  U.  1838^ 

JOHNSON'S  SPORTSMAN'S  CYCLOPEDIA  ofthe  Science  and  Practice  of  the  Field,  the 
Turf,  and  the  Sod,  or  operations  of  the  Chase,  the  Course,  and  the  Stream,  ih  one  very  thick 
Tol.  Svo,  illustrated  with  upwards  of  50  Steel  Engravings,  after  Coopbr,  Ward,  Havcock,  and 
others  (pub.  at  U.1U.  6d.),  eloth,  15t. 

KMIGHTS  (HENRY  GALLY).  ECCLESIASTICAL  ARCHITECTURE  OF  ITALY, 

FROM  THE  TIME  OF  CONSTAMTINE  TO  THE  FIFTEENTH  CENTURY.  With  an 
Introduction  and  Text.  Imperial  Ibllo.  First  Series,  containing  49  beautiful  and  highly  Inte- 
resting Views  of  Ecclesiastical  Buildings  in  Italy,  several  of  which  are  expensively  iliuminated 
In  gold  and  colours,  half-bound  morocco,  M.  b$.  1843 

g  Views  of  Eccle- 

tive  Letter-press. 

1844 


Second  and  Concluding  Series,  containing  41  beantlfhland  highbr-interesting  V 
elastical  Buildings  in  Italy,  arranged  In  Chronological  Older;  with  Descriptive 
Imperial  fblio,  half-bound  morocco,  51. 5«. 


KNIGHTS  (HENRY  GALLY)  SARACENIC  AND  NORMAN  REMAINS.   ToUlns* 

trate  the  Normans  In  Sicily.    Imperial  folio.    SO  large  Engravings,  consisting  of  Picturesque 

Views,  Afchiteetural  Remains,  Interiors  and  Kxterlon  of  Buildings,  with  Deserlptive  Letter* 

press.     Coloured  like  Drawings,  half-bound  morocco,  U.  St.  1840 

But  very  few  copies  are  now  first  executed  in  this  expensive  manner. 

KNIGHTS  PICTORIAL  LONDON.  6  voU.  bound  in  s  thick  handsome  rolt.  imperial  Svo, 
illustrated  by  650  Wood  Engravings  (pub.  at  ZU  3«.),  cloth,  gUt,  II.  18«.  1841-44 

LONDON.-WILKINSON'S  LONDINA  ILLUSTRATA ;  OR,  GRAPHIC  AND 
HISTORICAL  ILLUSTRATIONS  of  the  most  Interesting  and  Curious  Architectural 
Monumente  of  the  City  and  Suburbs  of  Loadon  and  Westminster,  e.y..  Monasteries,  Churches, 
Charlteble  Foundations,  Palaces,  Halls,  Courte,  Processions,  Places  of  early  Amusements, 
Theatres,  and  Old  Houses.  2  vols,  imperial  4to,  containing  207  Copper-plate  Engravings,  with 
Historical  and  Descriptive  Letter-press  (pub.  at  761.  St.),  half-bound  morocco,  6L  &§.     1819  -25 

LOUDON'S  EDITION  OF  REPTON  ON  LANDSCAPE  GARDENING  AND 
LANDSCAPE  ARCHITECTURE.  New  Edition,  350  Wood  Cute,  Portrait,  thick  8T0,  cloth 
lettered  (pub.  at  li.  10«.),  15«. 

LVSON'S  ENVIRONS  OF  LONDON ;  being  an  Histerieal  Account  of  the  Towns,  Villages 
and  Hamletolnthe  Counties  of  Surrey,  Kent,  Essex,  Herte,  and  Middlesex,  5  Tols.4te,  FUtes 
(pub.  at  101. 10s.),  cloth,  21. 10«. 
The  same,  large  paper,  5  vols,  royal  4to  (pub.  at  15/.  15t.),  cloth,  3/.  U. 

MACGREGOR'S    PROGRESS    OF    AMERICA    FROM    THE    DISCOVERY    BY 

COLUMBUS,  to  the  year  1848,  comprising  Ite  History  and  StstiaUcs,  2  remarkably  thick 
voliunes,  imperial  Svo.  cloth  lettered  (pub.  at  4/.  I4«.6tf.),l<.il«.6<(.  1847 

MARTIN'S  CIVIL  COSTUME  OF  ENGLAND,  ftt)m  the  Conquest  to  the  PteientPerio*. 
ftpm  Tapestry,  MSS.  fte.  ^yal  4m  61  PUtes,  l>eautiAiUy  lUumluated  In  Gold  and  Colours, 
cloth,  f Ut,  2/.  12*.  6(<.  INt 

Digitized  byVjOOQlC 


CATALOGUE  OF  NEW  BOOKS 


S  vTineai  iBquiry  loio  Ansieat  Armour  mm  n  cswicu  in  amcvp«,  dim  pawuviuMrij  in  sngHuia, 
from  tbc  Nornuut  Conquest  to  the  Reign  of  Charles  II,  with  a  Oiossknr,  etc.  by  Sir  SiLitCBi. 
RusM  Mbtbick,  LL.O.,  F.8.A.,  etc.,  new  aid  greatly  improvod  EditioQ,  cocrectcil  and  en- 
l*qie4  ilirougbout  b*  the  Author  hltoaelt;  with  the  aasUtaace  of  Ufnxj  and  AatiqaBTian 
Frlenda  (Albbkt  way,  etc.)t  3  vola.  Imperial  4to,  lllustratad  by  more  than  100  Plates, 
■plendiilly  Illuminated,  mostly  In  gold  ana  silver,  exhibiting  some  of  the  finest  Specimens 
extotkig  in  England;  alio  a  new  Plate  of  the  TourMmMife  of  Locka  and  K^f  (jfah» ai 3tU.U 
hair-bound  morocco,  gUt  edges,  191.  lOt.  Uii 

Six  Walter  Scon  Justly  descrtbei  title  eottectton  u  -twB  XMCOurxMUMtM  ammovxx." 
..JSiUnburgk  Rnitw. 

MEYRICK'S  DESCRIPTION  OF  ANCIENT  ARMS  AND  ARMOUR,  in  the  Collee- 
tlon  of  Oeodrlch  Court,  IM  Bngrarlngs  by  Jos.  Skbltov,  2  toU.  folio  (pab.  at  lU.  lU.), 
half  nsoroeeo,  top  edgea  gilt,  4L  lU.  6d. 

MILLINGEN'S  ANCIENT  UNEDITED  MONUMENTS:  eomprislng  Painted  Greek 
Vases,  SUtues,  Busta,  Baa-Reliefs,  and  other  Remains  of  Oreciaa  ArL  62  lane  and  beaiitifUl 
Engravings,  mostly  coloured,  with  Letler^ress  DeicriptioMU  fanpeiitl4tB  mib.  at  SL  Bs.). 
half  morocco,  iL  lit.  td.  1822 

MOSES'  ANTIQUE  VASES,  CANDELABRA,  LAMPS.  TRIPODS,  PATERi€, 
Taxsas,  Tombs,  Mausoleums,  Sepulchral  Chambers,  Cinerary  Urnsi  Sarcophagi,  Cippl;  and 
other  Ornaments,  170  Plaus,  several  of  irUch  are  eolooxed,  vtth  Lettn^press,  by  aofi,  small 
tvo  ( pub.  at  at.  St.),  cloth,  it.  it.  I8i« 

MURPHY'S  ARABIAN  ANTIQUITIES  OF  SPAIN;  representing,  in  lOO  Tery  highly 
flniahed  line  Engrsvings,  by  Lx  Kxox,  Fiwdbk,  LxyDSXEX,  O.  Cooks,  &e.,  the  most 
remarkable  Remains  of  the  Architecture,  Sculpture,  Paiatiogs,  and  Mosaics  of  the  Spanish 


MURPHY'S  ANOIEIfrCHUilOH  OF  BATALH^  IN  PQRTUQAU  Piu«,  Ete- 
vattons.  Sections,  and  Views  of  Uie;  with  its  History  and  Description,  and  sn  Introductory 
Discourse  on  OOTHIC  ARCHITECTURE,  imperial  fblio,  37  fine  Copper  Plates,  engraved 
by  Lo  wjiT  (pub.  at  4U.  fi«.) ,  half  morocco,  U»  u»  WS 

NAPOLEON  GALLERY;  Or  IIlustntiQns  of  the  U(h  asd  Times  of  the  Bmperark  with  99 
Rtchlngs  on  Steel  by  Rbvxil,  and  other  eminent  Artists,  ia  one  thick  Teiume  post  STO^^pub. 
at  1/.  If.),  gUt  cloth,  gUt  edges,  10«.  9d,  184S 

NttOLAS'S  (SIR  HAMtlS)  HISTORY  OF  THE  ORDERS  OF   KNIGHTHOOD 

aw  THE  B1UTI8U  EMPIRE;  with  an  Acooant  of  the  Medals,  Ctos«ca,and  Clasps  which 
have  bees  conferred  for  Naval  a»d  Military  Services :  together  with  a  History  of  the  Order  of 
the  Onelplis  of  Hanover.  4  vols.  Imperlsl  4to,  splendidly  printed  snd  Ulttstratcd  by  numerous 
flae  Woodcuts  of  Badges,  Crosses,  Collars,  Stars,  Medals,  Ribbands,  Clasps,  etc.  and  msny 
large  Ptates,  illuminated  In  gold  and  caiours,  including  fuU*  length  Portrarts  of  Queea  Vlc- 
tom.  Prbice  Albert,  the  King  of  Hanover,  and  the  Dukes  of  Cambridge  and  Sussex.  (Pub. 
at  Ui  14«.),  cloth,  with  morocco  backs,  it.  15«.  6rf.  •4»*  Con^tiete  to  1847 

•  the  same,  wldi  the  PUttt  .rhShly  cotovied  'but  not  ISviniiiated*  xnd  wdfttHt  the 


extre  portraits,  4  vols,  royal  4to.  clotii,  8^.  I0fl>  M. 

Sir  ITaRle  Nicolaa  has  produced  the-flnt  comprefaenaive  Hleter;j'of  the  BtilMi  (^ersof 


Knighthood:  and  it  Is  one  (fftKe mott  etm^ntely prepmte«l tntl  ipkndidlp prmted  'workt  th*i  ever 
*  iteued from  the  preit.  The  Author  appears  to  ns  to  have  neglected  no  sources  of  Informstton, 
snd  to  have  exnausted  them,  as  fbr  as  regards  the  general  scope  and  purpose  of  the  inquiry. 
The  Ghwphleal  IHustratioas  are  such  as  Moeme  a  work  of  thiaeharacter  upon  such  a  auhieot; 
at,  o fcourse,  a  lavish  cost.  The  reseuniea  of  the  recently re«l«ed  art  of  wood-engsavhagbave 
been  combined  with  the  new  art  of  printing  in  colours,  so  as  to  produce  a  rich  effect,  almost 
rivslling  -that  of  the  monastic  illumtnaaons.  Snek  n  b9ok  it  ture  ^  «  jilesf  m  -eneiy  great-  Hbrary. 
It  contains  matter  ealculatcd  to  interest  extensive  classes  of  xeadeie,  axd  w«<hDpe  by  our 
specimw  to  excite  their  corlosity."— ^MNtrfy  Anrirw. 

NICHOLSON'S  ARCHITEOTURC:  ITS  PRlNQtPLES  AND  PRACTIC&  2lf 
Plates  by  LowftK,  new  edttloB,  reviled  by  Joe.  Owux,  Bm.,  one  Yohuuey  r^Nl  8vo, 
l^llt.6d.  1849 

For  elassiea]  Architecture,  the  text  book  of  the  Profession,  the  most  uaeftil  0<tiide  to  the 
Student,  and  the  best  Compendium  for  the  Amsteur.  An  emtuent  Architect  has  declared 
it  to  be  '*  not  only  the  most  usefUl  book  of  the  kind  ever  published,  butabtoltttely  Indlipen- 
aable  to  the  Student." 

PICTORIAL  HISTORY  OF  GERMANY  DURIfiQ  THE  RCIGN  OF  FREDERICK 

THE  GREAT,  including  a  complete  History  of  the  Seven  Years'  War.  By  Fiusvcis 
KcoLxa.  Illustrated  by  Ajmuh  MBirBsx..  iLtiai  «v>tf,  with  ahov*  fi«ft  WoedWU  (pub.  at 
ICSf.),  cloth  gUt,12«.  laiS 

PICTORIAL  UALLERY  OP  RACE'HORSCS.  Contalnlog  Poftnite  of  all  the  Wisning 
Horses  of  the  Derby,  Oaks,  and  Su  Leger  Stakes  during  the  laatTMrteea  Yeant,  aad  a  His- 
tory of  the  principal  Operations  of  the  Turf.  By  Wilpxakb  (Qee.  Tatteraall,  EsoJ.  Royal 
ivo,  containing  9ft  beautiftil  Engravings  of  Horses,  sfler  Pwtures  by  Coopbr,  fftewnw, 
Hamcocx,  Af.KBii,  Jte.  Also  fttll-leng^  characteristie  Porfraiu  of  eeiebtated  Uvlac  BMrte- 
nen  (''Creeks  of  the  Dav"),  by  Sxtxoux  (p>*b.  at  U.  S«.),  scarlet  cle*h,  gilt,  II.  1^ 


Digitized  by 


Google 


PUBIOSHBD  OR  80LD  BY  H.  G.  BOHN. 


PiCTURESqUE  TOUR  OF  THE  RIVER  THAMES,  in  Ita  WMton  Coarw,  ineluilte 

£  articular  PeBcriptions  of  Richmond,  Windsor,  and  Hampton  Court.  By  Joliir  Pishsk 
[VJUU.T.  Illustrated  V  upwards  of  100  very  liigbly-fi niched  Wood  EngraTiugs  by  Orriv 
Smith.  Bkakbton,  Landblls,  Limton,  aod  «ther  eminent  artista;  to  which  ai«  add«4 
eeveral  beautlfal  Copper  and  Steel  Plate  BnmTings  by  Cooks  and  others.  Oo«  luge  kand- 
Kome  volume,  royal  8vo  (pub.  at  R  5a.\  flit  cloth,  10«.  6d.  IMi 

The  most  bMutifttl  volume  of  Topographical  Lignegraphs  ever  pvodueed. 

PINELU'S  ETCHINQS  OF  ITAUAN  MANNERS  AND  COSTUME,  Includtng  hb 
Carnival,  Banditti,  ftc,  37  Plates,  ImpeKial  4to,  haIf>bound  morooeo,  Ite.  iioMe,  IMt 

PRICE  (SIR  UVEDALE)  ON  THE  PICTURESQUE  in  Scenery  and  Landscape  Garden, 
ing,  vlth  an  Essay  on  the  Origin  of  Taste,  and  much  additional  matter.  By  Sir  Thomas 
Dick  Laudkk,  Bart.  8vo,  with  60  beautuUl  Wood  Bngnvings  by  Movtaav  Stamlbt 
(pub.  at !(.  1«.),  gilt  eloth,  12*.  IMf 

PUGIN'S  GLOSSARY  OF  ECCLESIASTICAL  ORNAMENT  AND  COSTUME; 

setting  forth  the  Origin,  UUtory,  and  Slmlflcatlon  of  the  various  Emblems,  I>evlees,  and  Sym. 
bolical  Colours,  peculiar  to  Cbilatlan  Designs  of  the  Middle  Agas.  Illustrated  by  nearly  M 
Plates,  splendidly  printed  In  gold  and  colours.  Boyal  4to,  half  moroceo  eadra,  top  edges  gilt, 
7t7«. 

PUGIN'S  ORNAMENTAL  TIMBER  GABLES,  selected  from  Andant  Examples  In 
England  and  Normandy.    Boyal  4to,  ao  Plates,  cloth,  II.  U.  1830 

PUGIN'S  EXAMPLES  OF  GOTHIC  ARCHITECTURE,  selected  from  Ancient 
Edifices  In  England;  consisting  of  Plans,  Elevations,  Sections,  and  Parte  at  large,  with  Histo- 
rical and  DescriptlTe  letter-press,  Illustrated  by  225  Engravings  by  Lx  Kaox.  8  vols.  4te 
(pub.  at  12A  12*.),  cloth,  71. 17«.  td.  Ulg 

PUGIN'S  GOTHIC  ORNAMENTS.  90  fine  Plate*,  drawn  on  Stone  by  J.  D.  Hammho  and 
others.    Boyal  4to,  half  morocco,  3i.  3*.  1844 

MUCIN'S  NEW  WORK  ON  FLORIATED  ORNAMENT,  with  so  plates,  splendidly 
printed  in  Gold  and  Colonn,  royal  4to,  elegantly  bound  la  cloth,  with  rich  gold  ornamantik 
3L3». 

RADCLIFFE'S  NOBLE  SCIENCE  OF  FOX-HUNTING,  for  the  use  of  Sportemen,  royal 
8vo.,  nearly  40  beautiful  Wood  Cute  of  Hunting,  Hounds,  ftc  (pub.  at  1/.  8<.),  Cloth  gilt, 
10*.  id.  lot 

RETZSCH'S    OUTUNES  TO  SCHILLER'S   "FIGHT    WITH  THE  DRAGON," 

Boyal  4to.,  eontelning  16  Plates,  Bngraved  by  Mosxa,  stllT  covers,  7t.  6d. 

RETZSCH'S  ILLUSTRATIONS  TO  SCHfLLER'S  ^FRIDOLIN,"  Boyal  4to.,  contain. 
Ing  8  Piatea,  Engraved  by  Moses,  stiff  covers,  4«.  6d. 

REYNOLDS'  (SIR  JOSHUA^  GRAPHIC  WORKS,  mo  beautlftal  EnaraVioa  (com. 
prising  nearly  400  subjecte)  after  thia  deligbtftal  painter,  engraved  on  Steel  by  8.  W.  Baynolda. 
3  vols,  folio  (pub.  at  36^.),  half  bound  morocco,  gilt  edges,  12/.  12«. 

REYNOLDS'  (SIR  JOSHUA)  LITERARY  WORKS.  Comprising  his  Discourses, 
delivered  at  the  Boyal  Academy,  on  the  Theory  and  Practice  of  Painting;  his  Journey  te 
zanders  and  Holland,  with  Criticisms  on  Pictures;  Du  Fresnov's  Art  of  Painting,  with  Notes 
xe  which  is  preflxed,  a  Memoir  of  the  Author,  with  Bemarks  illustrative  of  his  Principles  and 
>i8etice,  by  Bbxckxt.  New  Edition.  2  vols.  fcap.  8vo,  with  Portrait  (pub.  at  18i.), gitt 
xjoth,  lot.  1846 

**Hls  admirable  Dlscouzees  contain  such  a  body  of  Just  criticism,  clothed  la  such  perspicnousi 
elegant,  and  nervous  lai^uage,  that  it  is  no  exaggerated  panegyric  to  assert,  that  tliey  will  last 
as  long  as  the  English  tongue,  and  contribute,  not  less  Uian  the  productions  of  his  pencil,  to 
render  his  name  ImmortaL*'— iVbrtAeote. 

ROBINSON'S  RURAL  ARCHITECTURE;  being  a  Series  of  Designs  for  Ornamental 
Cotteges,  in  96  Plates,  with  Estimates.  Fonxth,  greatly  improved.  Edition.  Boyal  4to  (pub. 
at  4/.  4i.),  half  morocco,  2/.  6«. 

ROBINSON'S  NEW  SERIES  OF  ORNAMENTAL  COTTAGES  AND  VILLAS. 

86  Plates  by  H  ardivo  and  Allom.    Boyal  4to,  half  morocco,  2^  2s. 

ROBINSON'S  ORNAMENTAL  VILLAS^   MPlataa(pub.«t4i.4s.),ha]fmon>coo,tLU. 
ROBINSON'S  FARM  BUILDINGS.  66 Plates  (pub.  at2<.3s.),  half noiocco,]/.  lis.  64. 

ROBINSON'S  LODGES  AND  PARK  ENTRANCES.   4S  Plates  (pnb.  at  St  Ss.),  half 

morocco,  iL  11<.  6d. 
ROBINSON'S  VILLAGE  ARCHITECTURE.    Fourth  Xditkm.  wMh  addlttonal  Plate.   «1 

Plates  (pub  at  lU  16s.),  half  bound  uniform,  it  4k 

buS  House,  by  Johk  Bwttoh,  Imperial  foUo,  60  fine  angravlngs,  by  La  lU»x  (pub.  a 
IW.  16». )  half  morocco,  gilt  edges,  31. 13«.  6d.  '"^ 

any  At-    VICTORIA    GALLERY,    comprising  33  beanttftil  Engraringe,  after  plehires  a 
•^^MbKIN^S  PA?A5t%'SW^  'is  °*Vd"SJ'  ISSS'cK  Tw 

Dow,  Both.  Cvrr.  Bktvolds,  Titiax,  and  Bubkks,  engraved  by  GaxATBACK,  s.  w 
BxncOTSsT  PaxsBWxy,  Bwrkxi;  lie.;  with  letter-prass  by  L»«»xl.^  royal  4to  Cp»b.  • 
4/.  4j.),  half  morocco*  U.  lit.  tO.  r^  i 

Digitized  byVjOOQlC 


CATALOGUE  OF  VEW  BOOKS 


RUOINQ'8    ANNALS    OF   THE   COINAGE   OF  GREAT   BRITAIN   AND   ITS 
DBPBNDBMClJttS.    Three  Toit.,  4to^  159 pUUa,  (pab.  at «!.  «t.)  eloth,  iLU.  Uto 


SHAKSPEARE  PORTFOLIO;  a  8«riM  oTM  Okafhic  iLLUsnATiovs,  alter  Deilgm  br 
,. _. «_...-v  .^.-.-    ._-..-..__  »_._,..    «._...„.    „.^^ ^  Cooper,  WMtalf, 

ins,  L^ornouui,  uiinc,  «c.,  oeauuiaiijr  mfravea  ity  /"    '"     " 
Pjre,  Flnden,  Enfflehart,  Ai 
with  iMtlitr  back.  Imperial  8vo,  IL  U, 


the  moBt  emtiMBt  Britlab  Artieta.  IndudiDf  Smirke,  Stotbard,  Stapbanoft^ Cooper.  Westalf. 
Hnton,  Leslie,  Brlnt,  Corboukl,  Clint,  fce.,  beautiftallj  rnfraved  by  HeMb,  Greaibacfa, 
BohioMD,  Pye,  Flndan,  Enfflebart,  Arastioag,  Bolla,  and  otbars  (pab.  atU.  8«.),  in  a  case. 


SHAW  AND  BRIDOENS'  DESIGNS  FOR  FURN ITURE,  with  Candelabra  and  laHerior 

DeeoraUoa,  fo  Plataa,  royal  4to,  ( pub.  at  3L  3a.)>  balf.bouod,  uncut,  li.  lit.  6d.  isa 

The  Hunai  large  paper,  ImpL  4to,  the  Plates  coloured  (pub.  at  6^  <•.),  ht-bd..,  naeut, iL  3s. 

SHAVrS  LUTON  CHAPEL,  >«*  Arehttcctore  and  Omammte,  Ulofltnted  in  a  aeiiea  of  2ft 

highly  ftniahed  Una  BngraTiJWa,  Inparlal  folio  (pub.  atS^.  Sfc),  half  morocco,  uncut,  U.  16: 

lUO 

SILVESTRE^  UNIVERSAL  PALEOGRAPHY,  or  Facafanfles  of  tba  writings  of  ererr 
aae,  taken  from  the  most  authentic  Missals  and  other  inttreetlag  Manuscripts  existiag  in  the 
libraries  of  France,  Italy,  Germany,  and  England.  By  M.Slfrestre,  eoauining  upwards  of 
~~0  large  and  most  baautifully  executed  fac-stmiies,  on  Copper  and  Stone,  most  richly  lilumi- 
itad  in  the  finest  style  of  art,  2  vols,  atlas  folio,  half  morocco  extra,  gilt  edges,  3U.  lOa. 

ac,  and  Cham- 


Tha  Historical  and  Descriptive  Lfttei^press  by  Charapnliion,  Figea 
.    With  additions  and  corrMUoiu  by  str  Frederick  Madden,    a  v< 


polUon,  jun.    With  additions  and  corrtctioiu  by  Str  Frederick  Madden,    a  vol*,  royal  Svo, 

etoCh,  \U  l«t.  1S50 

— »— —  the  same,  1  toIb.  royal  8to,  ht  mor.  gilt  edges  (tmifbrm  with  the  fbUo  work),  it.  as. 

of 


«c.  ■  containing  i^  x'ia»«>,  avutv  ■» 
halxmorocco,  uncut,  rsdueed  to  V. 

SMITH'S  ANCIENT  COSTUME  OF  GREAT  BRITAIN  AND  IRELAND.  From 
the  7th  to  the  ICth  Centnnr,  with  Historical  Illustrations,  foUo,  with  «a  coloured  plates ttlo- 
minated  with  gold  and  sUvsr,  and  highly  flniahed  (pub.  at  lOL  I0t.j  half  bound,  morocco, 
extra,  gUt  edges,  s;.  Vis.  ftd. 

SPORTSMAN'S  REPOSITORY:  comprising  a  Series  of  highly  llnisbed  Line  En«rsvlng«, 
reprasenting  Uie  Horse  and  the  Dog,  in  all  their  varieties,  by  the  celebrated  engraver  JoHX 
Scott,  from  original  paintings  by  Reinagle,  Gilpin,  Stubbs,  Cooper,  and  Landseer,  arooafr- 
panied  by  n  comprehensive  Description  by  the  Author  of  the  <*  BriUsh  Field  Sports,"  4to,  with 
37  large  Couper  riaUs,  and  nomaroua  Wood  Cuts  by  Baractt  and  others  (pub.  at  3/.  12«.  (xL), 
cloth  gilt,  I/.  1«. 

STOREfff  CATHEDRAL  ANTIQUITIES  OF  ENGLAND  AND  WALES.  4  vols. 
•to.,  wltti  3A6  engravings  (pub.  at  7*.  iOs.),  half  morocco,  31. 12. 6 J. 

STOTHARD'S  MONUMENTAL  EFFIGIES  OF  GREAT  BRITAIN  ur  beautBUHy 
flniahed  Etchings,  all  of  which  arr  more  or  less  tinted,  and  some  of  them  highly  illuminated  in 
gold  and  colours,  with  Historical  DescripUons  and  Introduction,  by  Kkxpk.  FoUo  (pub.  at 
\9L)t  half  morocco,  St.  9s. 

STRUTTS  SYLVA  BRITANNICA  ET  S*^TICA;  or,  Portraits  of  Forest  Trees,  dbtin- 
guiahed  tor  their  Antiquity,  Magnitude,  or  Beauty,  comprising  M  very  large  and  hlghly-flmshed 
painters'  Etchings,  imperial  folio  (pub.  at  9/.  9«.),  half  morocco  extra,  gilt  edgea,  4L  l««. 

1S36 

STRUTTS  DRESSES  AND  HABITS  OF  THE  PEOPLE  OF  ENGLAND,  from 
the  Establiahment  of  the  Saxons  in  BriUin  to  the  present  time;  with  an  historical  and 
Critical  Inquiry  Into  every  Itranch  of  Costume.  New  and  greatly  improved  Edition,  with  Cri- 
tiftal  and  Explanatory  Notes,  by  J.  R.  Plakche',  Esq.,  F.S.A.  3  vols,  royal  4to.  153  Plates, 
cloth,  4/.  4s.  Tlie  Plates,  coloured,  7^.  7*.  The  Plates  splendidly  illuminated  in  gold,  sUver, 
and  opaque  colours,  in  the  Missal  style,  20/.  1B4S 

STRUTTS  REGAL  AND    ECCLESIASTICAL    ANTIQUITIES   OF    ENGLAND- 

ConUiningthe  most  authentic  Representations  of  all  the  EnRlIsh  Mouarchs  ft-om  Edward  tiie 
Confessor  to  Henry  the  Eiahtb ;  together  with  many  of  the  Great  Personages  that  wem  asM- 
nent  under  their  several  Reigns.  New  and  greatly  improved  Editton,  by  J.  R.  Pijlxch^. 
Esa.,  F.S.A.  Royal  4to,  72  Plates,  cloth,  2/.  2s.  llie  Plates  coloured,  4L  is.  Splendidlj 
illuminated,  uniform  with  the  Dresses,  I2i.  I2«.  MIZ 

STUBBS'  ANATOMY  OF  THE  HORSE.  34  fine  large  Copper-plate  Engravinga.  Impe. 
rial  folio  (pub.  at  U.  is.),  boards,  leather  back,  1/.  lit.  6d. 

The  original  edition  of  this  fine  old  woik,  which  is  indispensable  to  artists.    It  baa  loBgbtek 
considered  rare. 

TATTERSALL'S  SPORTING  ARCHITECTURE,  comprising  the  Srad  Farm,  the  Stall, 
the  Stable,  the  Kennel,  Race  Studs,  &c.  with  43  beautilUl  staei  and  wood  illnstrations,  sa^«r»I 
after  Hakcock,  cloth  gUt  (pub.  at  1/.  lu.  6d.),  It.  is.  '  ISM 

TAYLOR'S  HISTORY  OF  THE  FINE  ARTS  IN  GREAT  BRITAIN.  3  toIs.  post 
svo.  WoodcuU  (pub.  at  U.  1«.),  cloth,  7«.  Sd.  IMi 

"  The  best  view  of  the  sUte  of  modern  art."— I7m'i«d  States*  Gaxette. 

TODS  ANNALS  AND  ANTIQUITIES  OF  RAJASTHAN :  OR,  THE  CENTRAL 
AND  WESTERN  RAJPOOT  STATES  OF  INDIA,  COMMONLY  CAIlED  RAJPOOT- 
ANA).  By  Lieut.-  Colonel  J.  Ton,  imperul  4to,  embellished  with  above  28  extramely  baauti- 
ntl  line  Engravings  by  FiMsxv,  and  oapttai  Vug%  fohUng  map  (4(.  14«.  fid.),  cloth,  SmT       U3» 


Digitized  by 


Google 


PUBLISHED  OB  SOLD  BT  H.  O.  BOHN. 


TURNER  AND  GIRTIN'S  RIVER  SCENERY;  tolio,  so  beautiful  ennavlBn  on  ite«L 
after  the  drawlnpi  of  J.  M.  W.  TirKirK&,  brilUant  impmiioni,  in  a  portfolio,  vftli  morocea 
back  (pub.  at  U.  5t.).  reduced  to  1/.  lit.  6cf. 

the  same,  with  thick  glazed  paper  between  the  platea,  half  bound  morocco:  riit 

mt  I'.l    C    \     m^AttttmA  *A  •#    o«  '  " 


edges  (pub.  at  it.  6i.),  reduced  to  2U  2«. 

WALKER'S  ANALYSIS  OF  BEAUTY  IN  WOMAN.    Preceded  ^7  a  critical  View  of  the 

Sneral  H}-pothese8  respecting  Beauty,,  by  Lsovakdo  da  Vixcj,  Mbkos,  Wivckeluamk, 
UME,  HooARTH,  BuRKE,  Kkiuht,  Alisov,  and  others.  New  Edition,  royal  gvo,  illus- 
trated by  22  beautiful  Plates,  after  drawings  from  life,  by  H.  Howaxj>.  by  Gauci  and  Lav r 
(pub.  at  2i.2«.),gUt  cloth,  1/.U.  1M6 

WALPOLE*S  (HORACE)  ANECDOTES  OF  PAINTING  IN  ENGLAND,  with  some 
Account  oftlie  Principal  Artists,  and  CaUlojrue  of  EngraTers,  who  hare  been  bom  or  resided 
in  England,  with  Notes  br  Dallawat;  New  Edition,  Revised  and  Enlarged,  by  Rai^pii 
WoRMiM,  Esq.,  complete  in  3  toIb.  8to,  with  nmneroua  beautiAil  portralta  and  plates.  Si.  2«. 

WATTS'S  PSALMS  AND  HYMNS,  Itr.vsTRATBD  Editioit,  complete,  with  Indexes  of 
'*  Sul^ccts,"  "  First  Lines,'*  and  a  Table  of  Scriptures,  Sto,  printed  in  a  very  large  and  beauti- 
Ail  type,/embe]tished  with  24  beautiful  Wood  CuU  by  Martin,  Westall,  and  others  (pub.  at 
U.  1*.),  gUt  cloth,  7«.  6d. 

WHISTON'S  JOSEPHUS»  ILLUSTRATED  EDITION,  complete:  containing  both  the 
Antiquities  and  the  Wars  of  the  Jews.  2  vols.  8to,  handsomely  printed,  emhelliiibed  with  AS 
beautiAil  Wood  Engraving*,  by  various  Artists  (pub.  at  IL  is.),  cloth  lids.,  eiegantly  gilt,  14s. 

WHITTOCK'S  DECORATIVE  PAINTER'S  AND  GLAZIER'S  GUIDE,  eonUining  the 
moHt  approved  metliuds  of  imitating  every  kind  of  fkncy  W^ood  and  Marble,  in  Oil  or  Distemper 
Colour,  Designs  for  De;,orating  ApartmenU,  and  tlie  Art  of  Staining  and  Painting  on  Olass, 
&c.,  with  Examples  fr-im  Ancient  Wlndov^b,  with  the  Supplement,  4to,  illustrated  with  104 
plates,  ofwhich  44  are  coloured,  (pub.  at  21. 14«.)  cloth,  U.  lOt. 

WHITTOCK'S  MINIATURE  PAINTER'S  MANUAL  Foolscap  Svo.,  t  eolotmd  pUtes. 
aad  numerous  woodcuts  (pub.  at  5«.)  cloth,  3$. 

WIGHTWICK'S  PALACE  OF  ARCHITECTURE,  a  Romance  of  Art  and  Hiatorv.  Tmpc 
rial  Svo,  with  211  Illustrations,  Steel  PUtes,  and  Woodcuto  (pub.  at  2U  1S«.  6iL),  doth,  II.  1*. 

1S40 

WILD'S  ARCHITECTURAL  GRANDEUR  of  Belgium.  Germany,  and  France,  S4flne 
Plates  by  Le  Keux,  &c.    Imperial  4to  (pub.  at  If.  18«.|,  half  morocco,  H.  4a.  1197 

WILD'S  FOREIGN  CATHEDRALS,  is  Plates,  coloured  and  mounted  like  Drawings,  In  a 
handsome  portfilio  (pub.  at  I2l.  12«.),  imperial  folio,  iL  ft*. 

WILLIAMS'  VIEWS  IN  GREECE,  64  beautiful  Line  Enjrravings  by  Mtt.t.xii,  Horsbvmh, 
and  others.    2  vols,  imperial  Svo  (pub.  at  6<.  6«.),  half  bound  mor.  extra,  gilt  edges,  2L  12i.  U. 

ISSV 

WINDSOR  CASTLE  AND  ITS  ENVIRONS,  INCLUDING  ETON,  hj  tziTcn 
Reitchie,  new  edition,  edited  by  E.  Jes8E,  Esq.,  illustrated  with  upwards  of  SO  beaunnu 
Engravings  on  Steel  and  Wood,  ruyal  8vo.,  gilt  cloth,  lia. 

WOOD'S  ARCHITECTURAL  ANTIQUITIES  AND  RUINS  OF  PALMYRA  AND 
BALREC.  2 {vols,  in  1.  imperial  folio,  eontninlng  110  flue  Copper-plate  Engravings,  some 
very  large  and  folding  (pub.  at  71.  7<.),  half  morocco,  uncut,  3/.  13i.  6d,  M27 


iaatural  l^istors,  glgrfculture,  ice. 

ANDREWS'  FIGURES  OF  HEATHS,  wtth  Scientific  Descriptions.  <  vols,  royal  )»v«, 
with  300  beautifully  coloured  Plates  (pub.  at  lU.),  cloth,  gilt,  7/.  10«.  ISift 

BARTON  AND  CASTLES  BRITISH  FLORA  MEDICA ;  OR,  HISTORY  OP  THE 
^IKDICINAL  PLANTS  OF  GREAT  BRITAIN.  2  vols.  Svo,  illustrated  by  upwards  of  20« 
Coloured  Figures  of  PlanU  (pub.  at  31.  3«.),  cloth,  1/.  16«.  184S 

BAUER    AND    HOOKER'S   ILLUSTRATIONS  OF  THE  GENERA  OF  FERNS, 

in  which  the  characters  ofeact.  Genus  are  displayed  in  the  most  elaborate  manner,  In  a  series 
of  magnified  Dlbsections  and  Figures,  highly  finished  in  Colours.    Imp.  Svo,  Plates,  6/.  18SS-4S 

BEECHEY.  — BOTANY  OF  CAPTAIN  BEECHETS  VOYAGE,  compriMn;  an 
Account  of  the  Plants  collected  by  Messrs.  Lat  and  Collie,  and  otiier  Officers  of  the 
Expedition,  during  the  Voyage  to  the  Pacific  and  Behring's  Straits.  By  Sir  William 
Jacemcv  Hooker,  and  G.  A.  W.  Arkott,  Esq.,  illustrated  by  100  Plates,  beautlfiillv  en- 
graved, complete  in  10  parts,  4to  (pub.  at  71. 10a.),  &/.  183M1 

BEECHEY.— ZOOLOGY  OF  CAPTAIN  BEECHEY'S  VOYAGE,  compiled  from  the 
Collections  and  Notes  of  Captain  Beecitbt  and  the  Sriendfie  Gentlemen  who  accompanied 
the  Expedition.  The  Mammalia,  by  Dr.  Richartison  :  Ornithology,  by  N.  A.  Vigors,  Esq., 
Fishes,  by  G.  T.  Lat,  Esq.,  and  E.  T.  Bekxbtt,  Esq.;  Crustacea,  by  Rich  Ann  Owbx; 
Esq.;  Reptiles,  by  Jonv  Edward  Gray,  Esq.;  Shells,  by  W.  Sowbrby,  Esq.;  and  Geology, 
by  the  Rev.  Dr.  Bucklakd.  4to,  illustrated  by  47  Plates,  containing  many  hundred  Figures, 
beautifully  colcured  by  Sowbrby  (pub.  itiU  U,),  cloth,  3i.  I3a.  OiL  IS3S 


10  CATALOGUE  OP  »BW  BOOKS 


BOLTON'S  NATURAL  HISTORY  OF  BRITtSH  SONG  BIRDS.  lUustnted  nitb 
FIfiirM,  th«  liie  of  Llf»,  oftbe  Birdi,  both  Mfele  and  F«inaJe,  in  their  moat  Natural  Attitudes: 
their  Neeti  and  Enr^t  rood,  Favourite  Plants,  Shrubs,  Trees,  ftc.  fee.  New  Edition,  revisea 
and  very  eonsiderabiv  augmented,  a  vols,  in  1,  medium  4to,  containing  80  Iwaatifull/  coloured 
plates  ( pub.  at  li.  S«. ) ,  bslf  bound  morocco,  gilt  badcs,  gilt  edgtM,  31.  St,  1845 

BRmSH  FLORIST,  OR  LADY'S  JOURNAL  OF  HORTICULTURE.  •toIs.8«o.  n 
coIoutmI  plates  of  flowers  and  groups  (pub.  at  4t.  lOs.),  eloth,  U.  lis.  1849 

BROWN'S  ILLUSTRATIONS  OF  THE  LAND  AND   FRESH  WATER  SHELLS 

OF  GREAT  BRITAIN  AND  IRELAND;  with  Figures,  DcaAcipCions,  and  Local iUes  of  aU 
the  Species.  Royal  8?o,  containing  on  27  large  Plates,  330  Figures  of  all  the  known  British 
Species,  la  their  tail  alM,  aMUrateijr  Atvitu  teoux  Natura  (puh.  at  iSfc),  cloth,  I0».  6ef.  1845 

CURTIS'S  FLORA  LONDINENSIS;  EeTlsed  and  Improred  hy  Qnomos  Gkatbs,  ex- 
tended and  continued  by  Sir  W.  Jacksov  Hookbr;  comprising  the  History  of  Plants  indi- 
C nous  to  Oreat  Britain,  with  Indexes;  the  Drawings  made  by  Stdenhax,  Edwards,  and 
MDZimr.  6  vols,  royal  folio  (or  10»  parts),  containing  647  Plates,  exhibiting  the  fbll  natural 
dM  of  each  Plant,  with  magnifled  Dissections  of  the  Parts  of  Fructification,  ftc,  aU  bcauti- 
ftdly  colonrad  ( pub.  at  STi.  4t.  in  parts),  half  bound  morocco,  top  edge*  gilt,  30i.  183S 

DENNY— MONOQRAPHIA  ANOPLURORUM  BRITANNliC,  OR  BRITISH 
SPBCIBS  OP  PARASITE  INSECTS  (published  under  the  patronage  of  the  Britbh  Assoefa. 
tlon),  8to,  numerous  beautiftillf  eotoured  plates  of  Lice,  eontailnlng  several  hundred  magnified 
flgures,  cloth,  li.  lis.  fid.  1849 

DON'S  GENERAL  SYSTEM  OF  GARDENING  AND  BOTANY.  4  ToiomM,  royal  4to, 
nnmeions  woodcuts  (pub.  at  UL  8«.},  cloth.  If.  lU.  Set.  183UlgS8 

DON'S  HORTU8  CANTABRIGIENSIS;  thirteenth  Edition,  8vo  (pub.  at  12. 4i.),  elotb,  U». 

1843 

DONOVAN  S  NATURAL  HISTORY  OF  THE  INSECTS  OF  INDIA.  Enlarged,  by 
J.  O.  Wbstwood,  Esq.,  F.L.S.,  4to,  with  58  pistes,  containing  upwards  of  120  exquisitely 
coloured  figures  (pub.  at  61.  Ot.),  cloth,  gilt,  reonced  to  21.  2«.  1842 

DONOVAN  S  NATURAL  HISTORY  OF  THE  INSECTS  OF  CHINA.  Enlarged,  by 
J.  O.  Westwood.  Esq.,  F.L.S.,  4to,  with  so  plates,  containing  upwards  of  180  exquisitely 
coloured  flgures  (pub.  at  8/.  0«.)»  clotn,  gilt,  2/.  5«. 

**  Donovan's  works  on  the  InseeU  of  India  and  China  are  splendidly  Illustrated  and  ex- 
t^maly  useful."— iVa/urati*<. 

''The  entomological  plates  of  our  countnrman  Donovan,  are  highly  coloured,  elegant,  and 
_jeful,  especially  those  contained  In  his  quarto  volumes  ('  ..    ..        .-,...      .. 

great  nnniber  of  speciea  are  delineated  for  the  first  time."- 

DONOVAN'S  WORKS  ON  BRITISH  NATURAL  HISTORY.    Vis.-Insects,  16  vols. 


•»Blrds,  10  vols.— Shells,  5  vols.— FIsIms,  5  vols.— duadrupeds,  3  vols.— together  39  vols.  Svo. 
oontalniiw  1 108  beautifully  coloured  plates  (pub.  at  66<.  Ot. ) ,  boards,  2U.  17«.  The  same  set  of 
89  vols,  bound  in  21  (pub.  at  73/.  10«.),  half  green  morocco  extra,  gilt  edges,  gilt  backs,  SOf. 
Any  of  the  classes  may  be  had  separately. 

DOYLE'S  CYCLOPEDIA  OF  PRACTICAL  HUSBANDRY,  and  Run!  Aflhlrs  In 
General,  New  Edition,  Enlarged,  thick  8vo.,  witii  70  wood  engT««4ngs  (pub.  at  13««),  doth, 
8».  fld.  IVl 

ORURY'S  ILLUSTRATIONS  OF  FOREIGN  ENTOMOLOGY;  wherein  are  exhibi  ed 
upwards  of  600  exotic  Insects,  of  the  Bast  and  West  Indies,  China,  New  Holland,  North  and 
Sooth  America,  Germany,  Stc.  By  J.  O.  Wxstwood,  Esq.,  F.L.S.,  Secretary  of  the  Entomo- 
logical Society,  ftc.  3  vols.  4to,  150  Plates,  most  beautifully  coloured,  conUining  above  600 
flgures  of  Insects  (originally  pub.  at  15/.  \&t.),  half  bound  morocco,  6/.  16«.  M,  1837 

EVELYNS  SYLVA  AND  TERRA.  A  Discourse  of  Forest  Trees,  and  the  Propagation  of 
Timber,  a  Philosophical  Discourse  of  the  Earth:  with  Life  of  the  Author,  and  Notes  by  Dr.  A. 
Hunter,  3  vols,  royal  4to.    Fifth  improved  Edition,  with  46  Plates  (p^b.  at  5L  St.),  cloth,  V. 

FtTZROY  AND   DARWIN.-ZOOLOGY  OF  THE  VOYAGE  IN  THE  BEAGLE 

166  plates,  mostly  coloured,  3  vols,  royal  4to.  (pub.  at  9/.),  cloth,  at,  5*.  1838-43 

GREVILLE'S  CRYPTOGAMIC  FLORA,  compriilng  the  Principal  Species  found  in  Great 
Britain,  Inclusive  of  all  the  New  Species  recently  discovered  in  Scotland.  6  vols,  royal  8vo, 
360  beautifully  coloured  PUtes  (pub.  at  lit.  16«0*  half  moioceo,  SL  8«.  1833-8 

This,  though  a  complete  Work  in  itself,  forms  an  almost  indispensable  Strnplement  to  the 
thlrty'six  volumes  of  Sowerby's  English  Botany,  which  does  not  comprehend  Cryptogamous 
Plants.  It  is  one  of  the  mort  seientifle  sad  best  executed  work*  ou  IndigenouaBoteny  ever 
produced  in  this  country. 

HARDWICKE  AND  GRAY'S  INDIAN  ZOOLOGY..  Tw«ty  parts,  forming  two  vols., 
royal  folia,  303  coionied  plate*  (pub.  at  21/.),  sewed,  OL  Us.,  or  half  morocoa,  gilt  edges, 
14/.  14«. 

HARRIS'S    AURELIAN;    OR    ENGLISH   MOTHS  AND    BUTTERFLIES,    Their 


This  extremety  beantiful  work  is  the  only  one  wfaiah_  contains  our  English  Moths  and  Batter- 
Otes  of  the  full  natural  sine,  in  all  their  changes  of  Olterpttlar,  Chrysalia,  fte.,  wMh  the  planM 
en  which  they  feer<  ^  , 

Digitized  byVjOOQlC 


FCBLXSHEB  OR  SOLD  BT  H.  G.  BOHN.  11 

HOOKLR    AND   QITEVILLE,    ICONES    FILICUM:    OA.   FIQURCS  OF   FERNS' 

With  DESCRIPTIONS,  many  ervhiob  bavebcen  altosetber  iinii«ticed  1^  Botuilatt,  or  have 

not  been  correcUy  flgrured.    2  vols.  foUo,  with  340  beaudAiUy  eolound  PlatM  (p«ib.  at  25/.  4«.  i, 

half  morocco,  gilt  edges,  lai.  12*.  1829^1 

The  grandest  and  most  ralnable  ofUie  many  sctoatlAc  Works  ytodae«d  byStrWIUlam  Hpoker. 

HOOKEft'S  EXOTIC  FLORA,  conUlning  Figures  and  DescrlpllonB  of  Rare,  or  otherwia«,> 
interesting  Exotic  PlanU,  especially  of  such  as  are  deserving  of  being  cultivated  in  our  Gar- 
dens. 3  vols.  Impeilal  Svo,  containing  232  large  and  beautifully  coloured  Plates  (pub.  at  15^.), 
cloth,  6L  6«.  1823-1827 

,    This  is  the  most  superb  and  attractive  of  all  Dr.  Hoo1cer*s  valuable  works. 

••The  •  Exotic  Flora,'  by  Dr.  Hooker,  U  like  that  of  all  the  Botanical  publicatiom  of  the  in- 
defatigable author,  excellent;  and  It  assumes  an  appearance  of  finish  and  perfection  to 
which  neither  the  Botanical  Magazine  nor  Register  can  extemaUy  lay  claim."— loiuteii. 

HOOKER'S  JOURNAL  OF  BOTANY;  coatalnlag  Figures  and  Desertptions  of  such  Plants 
as  recommend  themselves  bv  their  novelty,  rarity,  or  history,  or  by  the  uses  to  which  they  are 

g>plied  in  the  Arts,  In  Medicine,  and  In   Domestic  Economy;  together  with  occasional 
oUnieal  Notices  and    Information,   and  occasional   Fortraiu  and   Memoirs  of  eminent 
Botanists.    4  vols.  8vo,  numerous  plates,  some  coloured  (pub.  at  8/. ),  cloth,  II.  1834-42 

HOOKER'S  BOTANICAL  MISCELLANY;  containing  Figures  and  Descrtptloits  of  Plants 
which  recommend  themselves  by  their  novelty,  rarity,  or  history,  or  by  the  uses  to  which  they 
are  applied  in  the  Arta,  in  Medicine,  and  in  Domestic  Economy,  together  with  occanional 
Botanical  Notices  and  Information,  including  many  valuable  Communications  f^om  distin- 
guished Scientific  Travellers.  Complete  in  3  thick  v<ds.  royaf  8vo,  wltii  153  plates,  many  finely 
coloured  (pub.  at  51,  5«.),  gilt  cloth,  iL  13«.  6d.  1830-33 

HOOKER'S  FLORA  BORrALi-AMERICANA;  OR,  THE  BOTANY  OF  BRITISH 
NORTH  AMERICA.  Illustrated  by  840  plates,  complete  in  Twelve  Parta,  royal  4to,  (pub. 
•t  12^.  12a.),  8^    The  Twelve  Parte  compute,  done  up  in  2  vols,  royal  4to,  extra clotli,  9L 

1829-40 

HUISH  ON  BEES;  THEIR  NATURAL  HISTORY  AND  GENERAL  MANAGEMENT. 
New  and  greatly  improved  Edition,  containing  alao  the  latest  Discoveries  and  Improvemcnta 
In  every  department  of  the  Apiary,  with  a  desciiptlon  of  the  most  approved  Hivxa  now  in  use, 
thick  12mo,  Portrait  and  numerous  WoodcuU  (pub.  at  10*.  M.),  cloth,  gilt,  t$.  6d.  1S44 

JOHNSON'S  GARDENER,  complete  in  12  vols,  with  numerous  woodeuta.  containing  the 
potato,  one  vol.— Cucumber,  one  vol.— Grape 'tine,  »wo  tiris.— Auricula  and  Asparagus,  one 
vol.— Pine  Apple,twovolB.— Strawberry,  one  vol.— Dahlia,  tmt  vol.— Peach,  one  voL— Apple, 
two  vols.— together  12  vols.    12mo,  woodeuta  (pub.  at  II.  ie«.),  cloth.  It*.  1847 

■  I         '  dtlierdfthevolMneB  may  be  had  aeparataly  (pub.  atts.M.),  at  la. 

JOHNSON'S  OfCTIONARY  OF  MODERN  GARDENtNG,  mnnmona  Woodeuta,  very 
thiek  lamo,  cloth  lettered  (pub.  at  10«.  6d.),  4«.     A  comprehensive  and  elegant  volume.      1846 

LATHAM'S  GENERAL  HISTORY  OF-  BIRDS.  Being  the  Natural  History  and  Descrip- 
tioa  of  all  the  Birds  (above  four  thoussnd)  hitherto  known  or  described  by  Naturalista,  with 
the  Synonymes  of  preceding  Writers :  the  second  enlarged  and  Improved  Edition,  compre- 
hending all  the  discoveries  fin  Ornithology  subsequent  to  the  former  pul)Iication,  and  a  General 
Index,  11  vols.  In  10,  4to,  with  upwards  of  800 coloured  Platas,  lettered  (pub.  at  26/.  8*.),  clotii, 
71. 17'.  6d.  Wmchuter,  1821-28.  The  same  with  Che  plates  exquisitely  coloured  like  drawings, 
11  vols,  in  10,  eleganljy  half  bound,  greooimoroooo,  gilt  edges,  \2l.  12«. 

^EWIN'S  NATURAL  HISTORY  OF  THE  BIRDS   OF   NEW  SOUTH    WALES. 

Third  Edition,  with  an  Index  of  the  Scientific  Names  and  Synonymes  by  Mr.  6ovu>and  Mr. 
Bytok,  folio,  27  plates,  coloured  (pub.  at  4/.  it.),  hL  bd.  morocco,  2/.  tt.  1838 

LINDLEY'S  BRITISH  FRUITS  J  OR,  FIGURES  AND  DESCRIPTIONS  OF  THE  MOST 
IMPORTANT  VARIETIES  OF  FRUIT  CULTIVATED  IN  GREAT  BRITAIN.  3  vols, 
royal  8vo,  containing  132  most  beautifully  coloured  plaUs,  chiefly  by  Mas.  Withbks,  Artist 
to  the  Horticultural  Society  (pub.  at  lOL  10*.),  half  bound,  morocco  extra,  gilt  edges,  U.  &$. 

1841 
••This  la  an  exqulsitaly  beautiful  work.    Every  plate  la  Ilk*  a^hlghly  iinlshed  dnwlngt 
dmllar  to  those  In  the  Horticultural  Transactions." 

LtNDLEY^  DIGITALIUM  MONOGRAPHIA.    Folio,  S8  plates  of  the  Fbxglofe  (pnh.  at 

4/.4«.),eloth,  W.  ll«.6d. 

—     ■    ■  the  same,  the  plates  beautifully  coloured  (pub.  at  tL  <•.),  clotli,  U,  VU.  9d, 

LOUDON'S  (MRS.)  ENTERTAINING  NATURALIST,  being  Popular  DeseriptloM, 
Tales,  and  Anecdotes  of  more  than  Five  Hundred  Animals,  cemprebendmg  all  the  Quadropeua, 
Birds,  Pislies,  Reptiles,  I nsecta,  &c.  of  which  a  knowledge  Is  indispensable  in  polite  educa> 
tlon.  With  Indexes  of  Scientific  aii  Popular  Names,  an  Explanation  of  Terns,  and  an  Ap- 
pendix of  Fabulous  Animals,  illustrated  by  upwards  of  soo  beautiful  woodcuts  by  B&wicz, 
Hakvbt,  Whtmpkk,  and  others.  New  Edition,  revised,  enlarged,  and  corrected  te  Hi* 
present  state  of  Zoological  Knowledge .    In  one  thick  vol.  post  8vo.  gill  cloth,  7a.  id.  1858 

LOUDON'S  (J.  C.)  ARBORETUM  ET  FRUTICETUM  BRITANNICUM,  or  th» 
Trees  and  ShruliS  of  Britain,  Native  and  Foreign,  delineated  and  described;  with  their  propa- 
gation, culture,  manMoment,  and  uses.  Second  improved  Edition,  8  vols.  8vo,  with  abovo 
400  platea  of  Uees,  and  upwasda  of  aato  woedcuu  of  uses  and  shrubs  (pub.  at  IW.),  U.  8«.   18M 


12  CATALOGUE  OF  KBW  BOOKS 

MANTELL'S  (DR.)  NEW  QEOLOQtCAL  WORK.  THE  MEDALS  OF  CREATIOir 
or  First  LMamu  In  Ocology,  and  In  the  Study  of  Omnie  Remsina;  ineludinK  Oeolofricn!  Ex~ 
cuntons  to  the  Itio  of  Shtppey,  Brighton,  Level,  TUgnte  Forest.  Charnwood  Forest,  Fsrrtng' 
dun,  Swindon,  Calne,  Bath,  Bristol,  Clifton,  Matlork,  Crich  HilL  &c.  By  Oidbok  Alokr- 
Nov  Mantbu.,  Esq.,  LL.D.,  F.B.S..  &c.  Tvo  thick  vols,  foolscap  8vo,  vith  colourad 
Vlates,  and  seveiml  hundred  beaatiAil  WoodcuU  of  Fo*sU  Remains,  cloth  gUt,  IL  U. '  IBM 

MANTELL'S  WONDERS  OF  GEOLOGY,    or  a  Familiar  EzposlUon  of  Geologieal  Phe- 
nomena.   Sixth  greatly  enlarged  and  improved  r 
upwards  of  8M  WoodcuU,  gilt  cloth,  IBf. 


nomena.    Sixth  greatly  enlarged  and  improved  Edltloii.    3  Tols.  post  Svo,  coloured  Pistes,  and 


MANTELL'S  GEOLOGICAL   EXCURSION    ROUND   THE    ISLE    OF    WIGHT, 

and  along  the  adjacent  Coast  of  Dorsetshire.    In  1  vol.  post  8v«,  with  numerous  beautifully 
cxecuUd  Woodcuts,  and  a  Geological  Map,  cloth  gilt,  13f.  IM 

MUDIE'S  NATURAL  HISTORY  OF  BRITISH  BIRDS;  OR,  THE  FEATHERED 
TIIIBES  CF  THE  BRITISH  ISIJiNDS.  3  vols.  8vo.  Mew  Edition,  the  FUtes  beanti- 
fuUy  coloured  (pub.  at  1/.  8<.),  cloth  gilt,  16«.  183S 

'*  Tills  is,  without  any  exception,  the  most  truly  chsrmiag  work  on  Omitbology  which  has . 
hitherto  appeared,  ftrom  the  days  of  WUIoughby  downwards.  Other  authors  describe,. 
■  Mudie  paints;  other  authors  give  the  husk,  Mudie  the  kerneL  We  most  heartily  concur 
with  the  opinion  expressed  of  tliis  work  by  Leigh  Hunt  (a  kindred  spirit)  in  the  first  few 
numticrs  of  his  right  pleasant  Lmdon  JnumaL  The  descriptions  of  Bewick,  Pennant, 
Lewin,  Montagu,  and  even  Wilson,  will  not  for  an  instant  stand  comparison  with  tho' 
splrit-stirring  emsnatlons  of  Mudie's  *  living  pen,'  as  it  has  been  called.  We  are  not  ac- 
quainted with  any  author  who  so  felicitously  unites  beauty  of  stvle  with  strength  and  nerve 
of  expression ;  he  does  not  specify,  but  paints."—  WooePi  Omitkoioffieal  Guidt, 

RICHARDSON'S  GEOLOGY  FOR  BEGINNERS,  comprising  a  fhmiliar  Explanation  of 
Oeology  and  ita  associate  Sciences,  Mlnpralc^rri  Physical  Oeolonr,  Fossil  Conchology,  Fossil 
Botany,  and  Paleontology,  including  Dircctions  for  forming  Collections,  ftc.  By  G.  F.' 
RicHAnDsoK,  F.Q.S.  (formerly  with  Dr.  Mantell,  now  of  the  British  Museum).  Second 
Edition,  considerably  enlarged  and  improved.  One  thick  voL  post  8vo,  illustrated  by  upwards 
of  160  WoodcuU  (pub.  at  10«.  6d.),  cloth,  7«.  6d.  IMI 

SELSrS  COMPLETE  BRITISH  ORNITHOLOGY.  A  most  msgnlfleent  work  of  the 
Figures  of  British  Birds,  containing  exact  and  faithfVil  representations  in  their  ftall  natural  sixe, 
of  all  tiie  known  species  found  in  Qreat  Britain,  S83  Figures  in  238  beautifully  coloured  Plates. 
2  vols,  elephant  folio,  elegantly  half  bound  morocco  (pub.  at  I05l.)i  gilt  back  and  gilt  edges, 
91/.  1U«.  1884^ 

*' The  grandest  work  on  Ornithology  published  in  this  country,  the  same  for  Britbk  Birds' 
that  Audubon's  Is  for  the  birds  of  America.  Every  figure,  excepting  in  a  very  fsw  instances  of 
extremely  large  birds,  is  of  the  fiUI  natural  sixe,  beautifully  and  accurately  drawn,  with  all  the 
spirit  of  life."— OmtlAo/oou<'«  Tait  Book. 

"  What  a  treasure,  during  a  rainy  forenoon  In  the  country,  is  such  a  gloriously  Uhunfaiated 
work  as  this  of  Mr.  SelbyT  It  is,  without  doubt,  the  most  splendid  of  the  kind  ersfr  published 
in  Britain,  and  will  stMid  a  companson,  without  any  eclipse  of  its  lustre,  with  the  most  magni- 
ficent ornithological  illuatrations  of  the  French  school.  Mr.  Selby  has  long  and  doatcredly 
ranked  high  as  a  scientific  naturalist."— ^tectitwod'*  Maffusme. 

SELBY'S   ILLUSTRATIONS   OF   BRITISH    ORNITHOLOGY.   3  toIs.  tro. 

Edition  (pub.  at  It.  Is.),  boards,  13i.  1833 

SIBTHORP'S  FLORA  GR^CA.  The  most  costly  and  magnificent  Botanical  work  o^er  pub- 
lixhed.  10  vols,  folio,  with  1000  beautiftilly  coloured  Plates,  half  bound  morocco,  pabliahing 
br  subscription,  and  the  number  strictly  limited  to  those  subscribed  for  (pub.  at  SSSt),  63i. 

Separate  Prospectuses  of  this  work  are  now  ready  for  delivery.  Onlv  forty  copies  of  tfat 
original  stock  exist.    Mo  greater  number  of  subscribers'  names  can  therefore  be  rocdivod. 

SIBTHORP'S  FLORA  GRACA  PRODROMUS.  SIve  Plantarum  omnium  Enameratio, 
quas  in  Provinciis  aut  Insulls  Craciic  invenit  Joh.  SiBTiionp:  Oharacteres  et  Synonyms 
omnium  cum  AnnoUtionibus  Jac.  Est.  Smith.  Four  parU,  in  3  thick  vols,  8vo  (pub.  ati 
2/.2«.),  U«.  loiKCmt,  1818- 


SOWERBY'S  MANUAL  OF  CONCHOLOGY.  Containing  a  complete  Introduction  to  the 
Science,  illustrated  by  upwards  of  6A0  Figures  of  Shells,  etched  on  copper-plates,  in  which  the 
most  characteristic  examples  are  given  of  all  the  Genera  established  up  to  the  present  time, 
(•rninged  in  Lamarekian  Order,  accompanied  t>y  copious  Explanations:  Observations  respect- 
ing the  OeoKraphical  or  Geological  distribution  of  each;  Thbular  Vlewa  of  the  Systems  of 
Lamsrck  and  De  BZainvillr :  a  Glosssry  of  Technical  Terma,  tte.  New  Edition,  eoosidenhl}" 
enlarged  and  Improved,  with  nnmetoas  WoodcuU  in  the  text,  now  flrst  added,  gvo,  cloth,  IS«. 
The  plaus  coloured,  cloth,  1/.  16*.  181S 

SOWERBY'S  CpNCHOLOGICAL  ILLUSTRATIONS;  OR,  cOLorRSD  FIGURES 
OF  ALL  THE  HITHERTO  UNFIOURBD  SHELLS,  complete  In  MO  S^tells,  8vo,  compris- 
ing several  thousand  Flgurea,  in  parU,  all  beautifully  eoloured  (pub.  at  15/.),  74  10s.  1815 


SPffYS  BRITISH  COLEOPTEKA  DELINEATED;  containing  Figures  and  Descriptions 
of  all  the  Genera  of  British  Beetles,  edited  by  Siiitckaiio,  8vo,  with  94  plates,  comprising  688 
figures  of  Beetles,  beaotlftdly  and  most  accurately  drawn  (pub.  at  ^4  3*. ),  cloth,  \L  U.       1848 
**  The  most  perfect  work  vet  published  in  this  department  of  British  £ntomol«c7.*« 

STEPHENS'  BRITISH  ENTOMOLOGY,  12  voU.  Svo,  loo  coloured  PUtea  (pnb.atsil.V 
half  bound.  6l.it.  m|g  |{ 

—Or  separat«iy,  Lkpidoptsra.  4  vols.  4/.  4«.  CotxopTERA,  S  vols.  4L  It.  OsaaKArmuk. 
OnTUOP.,  Mi(0««fV  ,*LO,t  vol  U  m     UvMtKu»Tss.A,  2  vohi.  SL  U,  ^^ 


Digitized  by 


Google 


PUBLISHED  OR  SOLD  BY  H.  G.  BOHIT.  13 


SWAINSON'S  EXOTIC  CONCHOLOGY;  OIL  FIOUBS8  AND  DESCRIPTIONS  OF 
RAKE,  BEAUTIFUL,  OR  UNDESCUlBED  SHELLS.  RoyaUto,  contiinin^;  M  large  and 
beautifully  colouxed  figures  of  Shells,  half  bound  mor.  gilt  edges  (pub.  at  M.  5«),  2^  13i.  M. 

SWAINSON'S  ZOOLOGICAL  ILLUSTRATIONS;  OR,  ORIGINAL  FIGURES  AND 
DESCRIPTIONS  OP  NEW,  RARE,  OR  INTERESTING  ANIMALS,  selected  chieflj 
tiom  the  Classos  of  Ornithology,  Entomology,  and  Conchology.  6  vols,  ro^-al  8to,  containing 
S18  finely  coloured  plates  ( pub.  at  16^.  16*. ) ,  half  bound  morocco,  gilt  edges,  91. 9*. 

SWEETS  FLORA  AUSTRALASiCA;  OR.  A  SELECTION  OF  HANDSOME  OR 
CURIOUS  PLANTS,  Natires  of  New  Holland  and  the  South  Sea  Islands.  15  Nos.  forming 
1  Tol.  royal  two,  complete,  with  56  beautifully  coloured  plates  (pub.  at  s;.  15*.},  cloth,  U.  16a. 

1827-2S 

SWEETS  CISTINE>E;  OB,  NATURAL  ORDER  OF  CISTUS,  OR  ROCK  ROSE.  SO 
Nos.  forming  1  vol.  ro/al  Svo,  complete,  with  112  beautifully  coloured  plates  (pub.  at  U.  5*.), 
cloth,  3^.  lit.  td.  183t 

**  One  of  the  moat  interwtliiff,  and  hitherto  the  scareeit  of  Mr.  Sweet's  beautiful  publieationi." 


iKtscellaneottS  dBnt^Mfiif)  Hiteraturt, 

INGLVDIXO 

HISTORY,  BIOGRAPHY,  VOYAGES  AND  TRAVELS,  POETRY  AND  THE 
DRAMA,  MORALS,  AND  MISCELLANIES. 


BACON'S  WORKS,  both  English  and  Latin.  With  an  Introductory  Essav,  and  copious 
Indeaus.    Complete  in  2  large  yoU.  imperial  Sro,  PortraU  (pub.  at  »U  »$.),  cloth,  i:.  16*.    ia» 

BACON'S  ESSAYS  AND  ADVANCEMENT  OF  LEARNING,  with  Memoir  and  Notei 
by  Dr.  Taylor,  square  12mo,  with  34  Woodeuta  (pub.  ai  4*.),  ornamental  wrapper,  It.  td, 

BANCROFTS  HISTORY  OF  THE  UNITED  STATES,  from  the  Discovery  of  the 
American  Continent.    Tweliih  Edition,  3  vola,  Sto  (publiahed  at  2L  10*.),  doth,  1^  lb.  td, 

1847 

BATTLES  OF  THE  BRITISH  NAVY,  from  a.b.  looo  to  1840.  By  Josbph  Allbw,  of 
Greenwich  Hospital.  3  thick  elegantly  printed  vols,  foolscap  8to,  illustrated  by  24  PortralU 
of  British  Admirals,  beautifully  engraved  on  Steel,  and  numerous  Woodcuu  of  Battles  (pub. 
at  U.  1*.),  cloth  gilt,  14*.  1842 

*« These  volumes  are  invaluable;  they  contain  the  very  pith  and  marrow  of  our  best  NaYal 
Ulatories  and  Chronicles."— Snk. 

**The  best  and  most  complete  repository  of  the  triumphs  of  the  BiiUsh  Navy  which  haa  yet 
issued  firom  the  press."— (/nttrd  Service  Gtutette. 

BORDERER'S,  THE  TABLE  BOOK,  or  Gatherings  of  the  Local  History  and  Romance  of 

the  English  and  Scottish  Borders,  by  M.  A.  Ricraxdsok  (of  Newcastle),  8  vols,  hound  In  4, 

royal  tvo,  Illoatrated  with  nearly  1000  interesting  WoodcuU,  extra  cloth  (pub.  at  3^.  lOt.), 

1/.  lU.  NewaulU,  1846 

«»*  One  of  the  cheapest  and  moat  attractive  seta  of  books  imaginable. 

BOSWELL'S  UFE  OF  DR.  JOHNSON;   BY  THE  RIGHT  HON.  J.  C.  CROKER, 

Incorporating  hia  Tour  to  the  Hebrlde8,and  accompanied  by  the  Commentaries  of  all  pre- 
ceding Editors:  with  numerous  additional  Notes  and  lUustratfve  Anecdotes;  to  which  are 
added  Two  Supplementary  Volumes  of  Anecdotes  bv  Hawkiks,  Piozzi,  Murphy,  Tykes, 
KKyKOi.DS,  Stjsjsvkns,  and  others.  10  vols.  13mo,  illustrated  by  upwards  of  so  Views,  Por- 
traits, and  Sheets  of  Autographs,  finely  engraved  on  Steel,  from  Drawings  by  Stanfield,  Hard- 
ing, &e.,  cloth,  reduced  to  11. 10*.  IMg 
Tills  new,  improved,  and  greatly  enlarged  edition,  beautifully  printed  In  the  popular  form  of 
Sir  Walter  Scott,  and  Byron's  Works,  is  just  such  an  edition  as  Dr.  Johnson  himself  loved  and 
recommended.  In  one  of  tlie  Ana  recorded  in  the  supplementsry  volumes  of  the  present  edi- 
tion, he  says:  **  Books  that  you  may  carry  to  the  Are,  and  hold  readily  in  your  band,  are  tbo 
most  useful  after  all.    Such  books  form  the  maas  of  general  and  easy  reading." 

BOURRIENNE'S  MEMOIRS  OF  NAPOLEON,  one  stout,  closely,  but  elegantlv  printed 
vol.,  foolscap  12mo,  with  fine  equestrian  Portrait  of  Napoleon  and  Frontispiece  (pub.  at  A*.), 
ctotli,  3*.  6d.  1814 

BRITISH  ESSAYISTS,  vlx.,  Spectator,  Tatler,  Guardian,  Bainbler,  Adventurer,  Idler,  and 
Coniioiseur,  3  thick  vols.  8vo,  portraits  (pub.  at  21.  5*.),  doth,  1/.  7*.  £ilber  volume  may  be 
had  separate. 

BRITISH  POETS,  CABINET  EDITION,  containlPg  the  complete  works  of  the  principal 
English  poetJi,  from  Milton  to  Kirke  While.  4  vols,  post  8vo  (size  of  Standard  Library) 
printed  in  a  very  small  but  beauiilul  t)  pp,  22  Mraalliou  rortraiu  (nub.  at  2^  3*.},  cloth,  13s. 


14  04TALOOI7E  OF  VBW  BOOKS 

KHOUQHAM'S  (UORO)  POLITICAL  PHILOSOPHY,  uASM«y«mth«BillMi( 

Uoa,  S  volt.  8vo  (pub.  at  IL  lb.  6^}.  clgtli,  IL  U. 
I  BfftUib  CoaaUtutiM  (a  pailloa  of  tha  praaaiWag  ««fc)r  tva,  aloth.  U, 

BKOUOHAM'S  (LORD)  HISTOMCAL  SKETCHES  OF  STATESNIEN.  aad 
Public  Cbaraetan  of  th«  ttae  of  Ooa«|«  III.  Ttd.  III.  toftX  »vo,  wMi  !•  fiae  p« 
(pub.  at  li.  U. ),  cloU^  lOb  td.  IMO 

BROUGHAM'S  (LORD)  UVES  OF  MCN  OF  LETTERS  AND  SCIENCE.    Vho 

lloumbed  la  tlia  time  of  Oaori*  III,  rojal  Svo,  vttli  10  flaa  poctnita  (pub. at  1^  U.),  elotb,  12i. 

x^—  th«  ttwa,  alao  vHh  tht  portnlla,  temj  tro  (pub.  at  U.  Uk  doth,  10«.  fti.  1H6 

BROWNE'S  (SIR  THOMAS)  WORKS,  COMPLETE.  ineludlBg  Ma  Vulgar  Etiwa. 
Bellflo  Mediclf  Urn  Burial,  Chrlatlan  MaraiB,  Cormpandeac^  Jounala,  aad  ftecta,  laaBy  of 
tham  hitherto  unpublished.  The  whole  oollaotod  aad  adMad  by  Suiox  Wujeik,  F.L^.  « 
vols.  8to,  fine  Portrait  (pub.  at  U.  ••.),  cloth,  1^  11«.  9d.  Piekamif,  1836 

**8ir  Thonus  Browne,  the  coatanporajy  of  Jaranjr  Tajtor,  Hotke,  Baean,  SeMcp^  and 
Kol>«rt  Burton,  Is  nndoubtadlf  one  of  the  most  eloquent  and  poetical  of  that  great  literary  era. 
Uis  thoughts  arc  often  trulj  aublime,  and  always  conveyed  la  the  most  ImpressiTe  laaguascS 


BUCKINGHAM'S  AMERICA;  HISTORICAU  STATISTICAL,  AND  DESCRIPTIVE, 

▼ia. :  Northern  States,  3  rola.:  Eastern  and  Western  Sutes,  3  vols. ;  Soutbara  or  Slave  States, 
i  vols.;  Canada.  Nova  Scotia,  New  Brunswick,  and  tiie  other  British  Paovinces  in  Noztii 
America,  1  vol.  Toffatber  9  stout  vols.  8vo,  uumerons  fine  Enrravlnss  (pubi.'at  GL  10«.  btL), 
cloth,  Si.  iti.  Od,  1841-43 

**Mr.  Bttckingliam  goes  deliberately  fhroufili  the  Statea,  treating  of  all,  hiatiMlcally  and  ata- 
ttstically— of  Uielr  rise  aad  progress,  their  manufactures,  trade,  population,  topography,  fer- 
ttUty,  resourctfs,  morals,  manners,  education,  and  so  forth.  Hit  vintmet  wiU  U/oiatdm  tUn- 
homae  qf  tiunnUdge.".^Aiktiimim. 

**  A  very  entire  and  comprehendTe  view  of  the  United  Statas,  dlOgantly  collected  by  a  mam 
of  great  acuteness  and  observation."— /.aerai^  Gasetle. 

BURKE'S  (EDMUND)  WORKS.  With  a  Blocraphlcal  and  Critical  Introduction  by  Bogcks.  ' 
a  vols,  imperial  Svo,  closely  but  bandaomeiy  printed  ( pub.  at  ai.  2s.),  cloth,  lU  lOc.  IMI 

BURKE'S    ENCYCLOP/EOtA    OF    HERALDRY;     OR,    GENERAL    ARMOURY 

OF  ENGLAND,  SCOTLAND,.  AND  IJB^LAND.  ComprUing  a  Registry  of  all  AmociM 
Bearings,  CreaU,  and  Mottoes,  ftwn  the  EarUeet  Period  to  the  Present  Time,  including  tte 
lata  OtanU  by  Oe  GoUaga  of  Anas.  WHh  an  Introduction  to  Heraldry,  and  a  Didtidaary  of 
Terms.  Third  Edition,  with  a  Sunplement.  One  verj'  large  vol.  imperial  8vo,  beautiAilly 
printed  in  small  type,  in  double  columns,  by  Whittihcham,  emhellUaed  with  aa  elaboaUa 
Fiontisplece,  ricMy  Ulwnlaated  in  gold  aad  colours;  also  Woodcuts  (pub.  at  2^.  S*.),  dou 
(lit,  1/.  to.  1844 

Tlie  most  elaborate  and  nsefiil  Work  of  the  kind  ever  published.  It  contains  upwards  of 
M,000  snnorisl  bearings,  and  incorparatcs  all  that  bave  hitherto  been  «lven  by  Goultm,  Si^ 
mondson,  ColUns,  Nishel,  Berry,  Ilobson,  and  oUiers;  besides  many  thousand  names  which 
have  never  appeared  in  any  previous  Work*  I'bis  volume,  in  Xact,  in  a  asnaU  compass,  but 
without  abridgment,  contains  more  than  four  ordinary  quartos. 

BURNS'  WORKS,  WITH   LIFE  BY  ALLAN  CUNNfHGHAM.  AND  NOTES  BY 

SIR  WALTER  SCOTT,  CAMPBELL,  WORDSWORTH,  LOCKHA&T,  Ac  Boyal  8vo, 
fine  Portrait  and  Plates  (pub.  at  18«.),  cloth,  uniform  with  Byron,  I9:.6d.  Wt2 

Tills  is  positively  the  only  complete  edition  of  Burns,  in  a  ainglc  volume,  Svo.  It  contains 
not  only  every  scrap  which  Bums  ever  wrois.  wketlier  proae  ar  veiae,  but  also  a  ooaaldec^ie 
number  of  Scutch  national  airs,  collected  and  iUustrsted  by  him  (not  given  elsewhere)  and  full 
and  interesting  accounts  of  the  occasions  and  clroumstances  of  his  various  writiqgs.  The 
vary  complete  and  interesting  Life  by  Allan  Cunningham  alone  occupies  164  pages,  and  the 
Indices  and  Glossary  are  very  copious.  The  whole  forms  a  thick  elegantly  printed  volume, 
extending  in  all  to  848  pages.  The  other  editions,  including  one  published  in  similar  shape, 
with  an  nbridement  or  the.  Life  by  Ad  Ian  Cunniagbam,  comprised  in  only  47  pages,  and  tb« 
whole  volume  in  only  504  pages,  ;«io  .not  contain  above  two^hiMs  of  the  bbove. 

CAMI^BELL'SUFE  AND  TIMBS<OF  PETRARCH.  With  Notices  alBoceaccio  and  hia 
lUnatrlous  Contemporaries.  Second  Edition.  2  vols.  8vo,  ftne  Poftaaiu  aad  Plates  (pub.  at 
IL  11«.  6d. ),  cleith,  12*.  IMi 

GARY'S  EARLY  FRENCH  POETS,  a  Seiiaa  of  Notices  and  TraoalaUons,  with  an  Intro, 
ductory  Sketch  of  the  Uiatoiy  oCftaneh  Poetry;  Edited  by  his  Son,  the  Bev.HxKnr  Cjiar. 
foolscap,  8vo,  cloth,  a.  IIU& 

CARYS  LIVES  OF  ENGLISH  POETS,  anpplemenlary  to  Dr.  JomrsoK's  "Lives.»» 
Edited  by  his  Son,  foolscap  Svo,  cloth,  7«.  IMS 

CHATHAM  f>APERS,  being  the  Correspondence  of  Wllltam  Pitt,  Earl  of  Chatham 
Edited  i>y  the  Executors  of  his  Son,  John  Earl  of  Chatham,  and  pnblished  (torn  the  Origins. 
ManuscripU  in  their  possession.    4  vols.  8vo  (pub.  at  3/.  12i.),  cloth,  1/.  &«. 

AfMirsy,  1828.49 
'*A  production  of  greater  historical  interest  could  hardly  be  imagined.    It  is  a  standard 
work,  which  will  directly  pass  into  every  library."— Lifprary  Gatttte. 

"  There  is  hardly  any  man  in  modern  times  who  fills  so  large  a  space  in  our  history,  sftd  of 
whom  we  know  so  little,  as  Lord  Chatham ;  be  was  the  greatest  Statesman  and  Oratir  tlMfl 
this  country  ever  produced.    We  regard  this  Work,  therefore,  aa  one  of  the  greatest  vai«a."<« 


Digitized  by 


Google 


PtIBElSnEl>  Oft  SOtD  BT  H.  G.  BOHN.  iS 

CHATTEIITON'S  WORKSt  both  Prose  and  Poetiral,  Includlns  kU  Letters;  with  Notices 
of  his  Life,  History  of  the  Rowlev  Controversy,  and  Notes  CnlicKi  aiio  Explanatory.  2  vol'c 
Mst  Sto,  elefantiy  priatcd,  with  Kn|;rwred  Ftc^slmfle*  of  Chatterton's  Hatidwrltins  and  tho 
Jbnriey  M88;  (paib. 44 IM.),  eiotii,  9H  Lwge  P*p«r,  3^ol8<  crown  tvo  (pnb.  at  IL  U.).  cloth. 
USi  1842 

**'WtatmL,  Ms(Ien»i  Croft,  Dr.  Knox,  Dr.  Shefirln.  and  others,  tn  prase;  and  Scott,  Words- 
Worth,  Kirlce  White,  Mont^mrry,  Shelley,  Coleridft,  and  KaaUi  in  veiM ;  have  coaferred 
jMtin*  immortality  upon  the  Poems  of  Chatterton." 

*'  ChattertoH's  iraa  a  veniiia  I  >  that  of  Homer  and  ShakspMre,  wttteh  stppcan  n«t  abore 
once  In  mnny  eentnrlos.^'— FWifsnn  Anor. 

CLARKE'S  (DR.  E.  D.)  TRAVELS  IN  VARIOUS  COUNTRIES  OF  EUROPE, 
ASIA,  AND  APR1 CA,  11  vols.  «to  ,  mstps  and  plsIM  (puh.  al  MM. ),  cloth,  91,  9s.  1827-34 

CLASSIC  TALES,  Cabinet  EdKlon,  eomprlslnr  the  Vlenr  of  Walccftcid,  RliKabetb,  Patil  and 
Virsioia,  Onlliver's  Travels,  Sterne's  Sentimental  Jonmey,  Sorrows  ot  Werter,  l'h«odasias 
andConstantla,  Castle  of  Otranto.  and  Raaselas,  compleu  to  1  vol.  lamo.;  7  medalUen  por- 
traits (pub.  at  10b.  Oct.),  cloth,  3«.  Od. 

COLMKN'S  (QEORGE)  POETICAL  WORKS,  containing  his  Broad  Orlns.  Vagaries,  and 
Eecentrieltles,  2'4mo,  woodcuU  (pnb.  at  2$.  M.),  cloth,  is.  Od,  18it) 

COOPER'S  (J.  F.)  HISTORY  OF  THE  NAVY  OF  THE  UNITED  STATES  OT 
AMERICA,  from  the  Earliest  Perloa  to  the  Peace  of  ItlA,  J  voki«  Svo  (pub.  at  IL  I9t.),  gilt 
cloth,  12>.  issa 

COPLEY'S  (FORMERLY  MRS.  HEWLETT)  HISTORY  OF  SLAVERY  AND  ITS 
ABOLITION.  Second  Edition,  with  an  Apfpendlt,  thick  small  avo,  fine  Portrait  of 
ClarksoD  (pub.  «t  8«. ),  elotb,  4s.  6d.  Itit 

COSTELLOS  SPECIMENS  OF  THE  EARLY  FRENCH  POETRY,  from  the  time  of 
the  TroubadoanXo  the  Reign  of  Henry  IV,  post  Svo,  with  4  Plates,  epiendklly  illumlaated  in 
gold  and  colours,  cloth  gilt,  I8t.  1835 

COWPERB  COMPLETE  WORKS,  EDITED  BY  SOUTHEY;  comprlsiag  his  Poems. 
Correspondence,  and  Translations;  with  a  Life  of  the  Author.  U  vols,  post  Svo,  cmbeilished 
witta^merons  exquisite  Engravinga,  after  tlnr  designs  of  HanvST  (rnk  at  3^4  I5«.),rieth, 

This  is  the  only  complete  edition  of  Cowper's  Works,  prose  and  poetical,  which  has  ever 
been  given  to  the  world.  Many  of  them  are  etiU  excluiavely  copyright,  and  coose^ently 
cimnet'appear  In  any  other  edition. 

CRAWFURD'S  (J.)  EMBASSY  TO  SIAM  AND  COCHIN-CHINA,  s  role.  8vn. 
Maps,  And  M  PlaUs  (pub.  at  U,  lit.  6d.),  ololh,  13a.  18M 

CRAWFURD'S  EMBASSY  TO  AVAj  *ith  an  Apjendfx  on  Fossil  Remains  by  Professor 
BucKiJiKi}.     3  vols.  8V0,  with  13  Maps,  Plates,  and  >  jgnettes  (pub.  at  1/.  lU.  id.),  cloth. 

cilUIKSHANKS  THREE  COURSES  AND  A  DESSERT.  A  Series  of  Tales,  in  Three 
Bets,  viz.,  Irish,  Legal,  and  Misceilaoemis.  Crown  8vo.  with  51  extremely  clever  and  comic 
JUnstrations  ( publishing  in  the  lilustraled  Library  alit.) 

"This  is  an  extraordinasy  performanre.  Such  an  union  of  the  painter,  the  poet,  uid  the 
novelist,  in  one  person,  is  unexampled.  A  tithe  of  the  ulent  Uiat  goes  to  making  the  storlea 
wmM  set  up  a  dotan  of  annual  writers ;  and  a  tithe  oftbe  inventive  genius  that  is  displayed  ill 
theillnstratfons  would  finish  a  gallery."— ^rta/or. 

DAVIS'S  SKETCHES  OF  CHINA,  During  an  Inland  Jotmiey  of  Four  Months;  with  an 
Aceeunt  or  the  War.  Two  vela.,  pestgvo,  with  a  new  map  of  China  (pnb,  at  Ms.),  doth,  9: 

1841 

OIBDIN'S  BIBUOMANIA:  OR  BOOK-MADNESS.  A  Bibliographical  Ronmnce.  New 
Edition,  with  considerable  Additions,  including  a  Key  to  the  assumed  Characters  in  the 
Drama,  and  a  Supplement.  8  vols,  royal  8vo,  handsomely  printed,  embellished  by  nwnierooa 
Woodcuts,  many  of  which  are  now  first  added  ( pub.  at  3/.  3*. ) ,  cloth,  W.  1 U.  6ii.  Large  Paper, 
imperial  »vo,  of'^whteh  eniy  very  few  copies  were  printed  (pub.  at  5<.  5«.),  cloth,  3/.  I3«.  6d. 

This  celebrated  Work,  which  unites  the  entertainment  of  a  romance  with  the  most  valuable 
'^^ — "'on  on  an  bibliographical  snhjeets,  has  long  been  very  scarce  and  sold  for  coaaldorabl* 
B  small  paper  for  ti.  8s.,  and  the  large  'paper  fnr  upwards  of  SO  guineas  i  1 1 

niimffS  (CHARLES)  SONGS,  Admiralty  edition,  complete,  with  a  Memoir  by  T. 
DVtOxyr^  IJhistrated  with  12  Characteristic  Sketches,  engraved  on  Steel  by  Oxonon  Cnuix- 
•HAiTK,  12mo,  cloth  lettered,  5«.  1848 

DOMESTIC  COOKERY,  by  a  Lady  (Mr*.  Rvmcti.)  New  EdKfon,  with  numerous  additional 
Receipu,hy  Mrs.  Birch,  12mo.,  with  9  plates  (pub.  at  Ct.)  cloth,  3«.  1846 

OBAKE'S  SHAK6PEARE  AND  HIS  TIMES,  ineluding  the  Biography  of  the  Poet, 
Criticisms  on  his  Genius  and  Writings,  a  new  Chronology  of  his  Plays,  and  a  History  of  the 
Maaaers,  Customs,  and  AnMiscments,  Superstitions,  Poetry,  and  Literature  of  the  Eiisahethaa 
Era.  2  vols.  4to  (above  1400  pages),  with  fine  Portrait  and  a  Plate  of  Autographs  (pnh.  at 
5t.  5«.),  cloth,  W.  U.  1817 

*'A  masterly  production,  the  publication  of  which  will  form  an  epoch  in  the  Shaksiierlan  his- 
torr  of  tMs  country.  It  comprises  also  a  complete  and  critical  analysis  of  all  the  Plays  and 
P^eow  of  Shakspeare :  and  a  compreoensive  and  powerful  sketch  of  the  conteai|t>rary  Utcnu 
tun*"—Genileiiian'i  Mv^ugiM. 


Digitized  by 


Google 


CATAKMSms  OF  KKW  BOOXJ 


CNQU8H  CAUSES  CELEBRES,  OB,  RKMARKABLB  TRIALS.  Sqoan  Umo,  («#■. 
M  4t. ),  onnmtBtol  wrapper,  U,  fvM 

PENH'S  PASrON  LETTERS,  Wgtiul  Lettm  orthe  Parton  Vtotly,  wrtttea  dn^  lh« 
JUisBS  of  Henry  VI,  Bdwanl  iV,  ud  Bichwd  III.  Lj  TBrimu  Pcrwiia  of  Bsnk  u^^Mike- 
^oenco,  chiefly  oo  Hiitorleal  SnVlocts.  Now  Bditton,  wtth  Notes  and  Correctfons,  cmnplcto, 
S  toIb.  bouad  la  1,  iquAro  Ifno  (pub.  ot  Ito.),  cloth  gilt,  te.  Quaintly  boand  ia  maraoii 
aoroceo,  carved  boards,  ia  the  early  style,  gilt  edges,  lit.  «IM9 

The  original  edition  of  this  very  cwloos  and  interesting  Sf  ries  of  historical  Letters  ia  a  rare 
book,  and  sells  for  upwards  of  ten  guineas.  Tbe  present  is  not  an  abridgment,  as  might  be 
sappoaed  from  its  form,  but  give*  the  whole  matter  by  omitting  the  duplicate  Terstoaor^he 
letters  written  in  an  obsolete  language,  and  adopting  oaly  the  mora  moaem,  nadable  venioa 
mbllshed  by  Feaa. 

*'  Tbe  Fasten  Letters  are  an  faaportaat  testimony  to  the  progresslTe  condition  of  society,  aad 
come  in  as  a  precious  link  In  the  chain  of  the  moral  histoty  ef  Eaglaad,  which  they  aloim  te 
this  period  supply.    They  itaad  Indeed  singly  in  Europe."-— Aeiten. 

FIELDING'S  WORKS,  EDITED  BY  ROSCOE,  COMPLETE  IN  ONE  VOLUME. 
(Tom  Jones,  Amelia,  Jonathan  Wild,  Joseph  Andrews.  Flays,  Esssts,  and  Miscellanies.) 
Medium  8to,  with  20  capital  Plates  by  CnaiKsii  avk  vpub.  at  U.  4«.),  cloth  ^It,  14«.  I»4t 

*'  Of  all  the  works  of  imagiaatioa  to  which  English  geaius  has  giren  «»iMi,  the  wtftincs  of 
Hennr  Fieldinr  are  perfaaps  most  decidedly  and  exclusively  her  own."— Ar  WmlUr  Srett. 

**The  prose  Homet  of  hnmaa  nature."— /.ore/  ^yron. 

FOSTER'S  ESSAYS  ON  DECISION  OF  CHARACTER;  on  a  Man's  Writtas  Memoirs 
of  Himself :  on  the  epithet  Romantic:  on  the  Aversion  of  Men  of  Taste  to  Evaagelteal  Reli- 
gion, ftc.    PcKp.8vo,  Eighteenth  Edition  (pub.  at  6«.),  cloth,  ««.  184S 
**  I  have  read  with  the  greatest  admiration  the  Essays  of  Mr.  Pouter.    He  is  one  of  the  most 
profound  and  eloquent  writers  that  England  has  produced."— Sir  Jtmea  Jtfsettiteak. 

FOSTER'S  ESSAY  ON  THE  EVILS  OF  POPULAR  IGNORANCE.  NewBditioa, 
elecantly  printed,  ia  tup.  Svo,  now  flrat  uaifonn  with  bla  Essays  on  Decision  of  Character, 
cloth,  ii.  1S47 

**Mr.  Foster  alwaye  eoasidered  this  his  best  work,  and  the  oae  by  which  he  wished  hia 
literary  claims  to  be  estimated." 

'*  A  work  which,  popular  aad  admind  as  it  eoafsssedly  Is,  has  never  met  with  the  thoaaandfk 
part  of  the  attention  which  It  deserves."— Z>r.  P^  SmUh. 

FROIS5ARTS  CHRONICLES  OF  ENGLAND.  FRANCE,  AND  SPAIN,  &C.    New 

Edition,  by  Colonel  Jobnes,  with  UO  beautUUl  Woodcuts,  2  vols,  super-royal  Ivo,  doth 
lettered  (pub.  at  U.  16f.),  U.  8*.  lS4t 

FROISSART,  ILLUMINATED  ILLUSTRATIONS  OF,  74  plates,  printed  la  sold  and 
colouxa,  S  vols,  super-royal  Svo,  half  bouad,  uncut  (pub.  at  4/.  10*.),  3/.  lOt. 
■  the  same,  large  paper,  S  vols,  royal  4to,  half  bound,  uncut  (pub.  at  lOl,  lOt.),  6/.  6s 

FROISSARTS  CHRONICLES,  WITH  THB  74  ILLUMINATED  ILLUSTRATIONS 
INSERTED,  S  vols,  auper-royal  tvo,  elegantly  half  bound  red  morocco,  gilt  edgea,  emble- 
matically tooled  (pub.  at  6L  te.},  *L  10*.  1S49 

GAZETTEER.-NEW  EDINBURGH  UNIVERSAL  GAZETTEER.  AND  GEOGRA- 
PHICAL DICTIONARY,  mora  complete  than  any  hUberto  pnbliahed.  New  Edition,  nvimd. 
and  completed  to  the  present  time,  by  Johv  Tbomsov  (Editor  of  the  Univenal  Atttu^  ftc), 
verv thick  8vo  (1040  pages),  Maps  (pub.  at  18«.),  cloth,  12«. 

Tnis  comprehensive  volume  is  the  latest,  and  by  far  the  best  Universal  Gaxetteer  of  Its  siae. 
It  Includes  a  full  account  of  Affghanistan,  New  Zealand,  ftc  ftc 

CELL'S  (SIR  WILLIAM)  TOPOGRAPHY  OF  ROME  AND  ITS  VICINITY.   An 

improved  Edition,  complete  in  1  vol.  Svo,  with  several  Plates,  cloth,  lU,  With  a  very  li 
Map  of  Rome  and  its  Environs  (from  a  most  careftil  trigonometrical  survey),  mounted  on  ch 
andfoldedlnacasesoas  toformavolume.    Together  2  vols.  8vo,  cloth.  If.  l«. 

hat  is  ^ 

leagre  i 

, „ jeranr  e , , „ ^ 

anee,  and  one  dear,  not  only  to  every  scholar,  but  to  every  reader  of  inteUigenoe  to  whom  the 
truth  ef  history  is  an  object  of  consideration." 


imi^oved  Edition,  complete  in  1  vol.  8vo,  with^seyeral  Pjates,  cloth^U*.    With  a  very  large 

184S 

"These  volumes  are  so  replete  with  what  Is  valuable,  that  wera  we  to  employ  «ar  enttro 
Jouinal,  we  could,  after  all,  afford  but  a  meagre  indication  of  their  interest  and  worth.  It  is, 
indeod,  a  lasting  memorial  of  eminent  literanr  exertion,  devoted  to  a  subject  of  grant  Import- 


GILLIES'  (DR.)  HISTORICAL  COLLECTIONS,  Relating  to  Remarkable  Periods  of  the 
Success  of  tbe  Gospel,  including  tbe  Appendix  and  Supplement,  with  PreCacee  aad  Con- 
tinuation by  the  Rev.  H.  Bovax,  royal  8vo  (pub.  at  lit,  od. ),  cloth,  7s.  td,  1S45 


GLEIG'S  MEMOIRS  OF  WARREN  HASTINGS,  first  Govemor-Oenerml  of  Bengal,  s 
vols.  8V0,  fine  Portrait  fpub.  at  2L  te. ),  cl<Uh,  1/.  1«.  1841 

GOETHE'S  FAUST,  PART  THE  SECOND,  as  completed  in  mi,  translated  into  EagUsh 
Verse  by  Johv  Macdokau)  Bbzx,  Esq.  Second  Edition,  fiuip.  ivo  (pub.  at  St.),  cloth,  as. 

COLDSMITH'S  WORKS,  with  a  Life  and  Notes.  4  vela.  feap.  »vo.  with  engraved  Tttlee  and 
Plates  by  Stotkakd  and  Cjivxxshavk.  New  aad  elegant  AdUtion  (pub.  at  U.),  extra 
cloth,  12«.  ISM 

"Can  any  anOior— can  even  Sir  Walter  Scott,  be  compared  with  Goldsmith  for  the  variety, 
beauty,  and  power  of  his  compositions  r  You  may  take  him  and  *  cut  him  out  in  little  atars,*  ao 
many  iighU  does  be  present  to  the  Imafrination."— W^Aentfum. 

"Tlie  volumes  of  Goldsmith  will  ever  constitute  one  of  the  moat  preclocu  'wells  of  BaetHi 
nndefiled.'"— Quar^eWy^OTno. 

GORDON'S  HISTORY  OF  THE  GREEK  REVOLUTION,  and  of  the  Wan  and  Cam. 

paiffns  arising  ft-om  the  Struggles  of  the  Greek  PatrioU  in  emanclpatlng-thcir  country  from  the 
Turkish  yoke.  By  the  late  Thomas  Gordok,  General  of  a  Division  of  the  Greek  Anar. 
lecond  Edition,  S  vols,  svo.  Maps  aad  Plans  (pub.  at  U.  Ite. ),  cloth,  Ite.  fid.  lats 

Digitized  byVjOOQlC 


rUBLISHED  OB  SOLD  BT  H.  G.  BOHN.  17 

QOftTON'S  BIOGRAPHICAL  DICTIONARY,  S  thick  toIi.  Svo,  cloth  l«tt«rcd  (pnb.  m 

2/.  2«.)tW•"«.w• 
GBAflVlLLE8  (OR.)  SPAS  OF  ENGLAND  wd  Principal  Sm  Btthhig  Plieei.    9  to!*. 

pott  8V0,'  with  larve  Map,  aad  upwards  of  M  beautiful  Woodcnto  (pub.  at  U.  ISt.),  cloth.  Uf. 

It41 

GRANVILLE'S  (DR.)  SPAS  OF  GERMANY,  Iro,  vitfa  »  Woodcuts  and  Mapa  (pub.  ac 
18..),  cloth,  9#.  IWJ 

HALL'S  (CAPTAIN  BASIL)  PATCHWORK,  eon>istinr  of  TraTcIs,  and  Adventures  In 
Switzerland,  Italy,  France,  Sicily,  Malta,  ke.  3  vols,  Uoio,  Second  Edition,  cloth,  fUt  (pub.  at 

HEEREN'S  (PROFESSOR)  HISTORICAL  WORKS,  translated  from  tho  Gorman,  vix.- 
Asia,  New  Edition,  complete  in  S  vols.— Aprjca,  I  vol.— Europb  akd  its  CoLOiaBfl,  t 
vol.— AncisiiT  Grescb,  and  Historicai.  Treatisxs,  1  vol Mamval  or  Aroirvt  Bis- 
tort. 1  vol.— together  6  vols.  8vo  (fbmerly  pub.  at  7'.)*  cloth  lettered,  uniform.  Si.  Sf. 

*»*  New  and  Canute  Editknu,  wUh  General  Indexe$. 
.  **  Professor  Heeren's  Historical  Researches  stand  in  the  very  highest  rank  among  those  with 
which  modem  Gwrnany  has  enriched  the  Literature  of  Europe."— QH«rf«r<y  Jtrvieto. 

HEEREN'S  HISTORICAL  RESEARCHES  INTO  THE  POUTICS,  INTERCOURSE, 
AKO  TRADES  OP  TBS  ANCIENT  NATIONS  OP  AFRICA ;  including  the  CarthaglnlanB, 
Etbiopiana,  and  Egrptlans.  New  Edition,  corrected  tliroughoui,  with  an  Index,  Lile  of  the 
Author,  new  AppendiRes,  and  other  Additions.    Complete  in  1  vol.  8vo,  cloth,  16«.  I860 

HEEREN'S  HISTORICAL  RESEARCHES  INTO  THE  POLITICS,  INTERCOURSE, 
AND  TRADES  OP  THE  ANCIENT  NATIONS  OF  ASIA;  including  the  Persians,  Phv- 
nicians,  Babylonians,  Scythiank,  and  Indians.  New  and  Improved  Edition,  complete  in  S 
vols.  8vo,  elegantly  printed  (pub.  originally  at  2^  M.),  cloth,  1^  la.  1846 

<*  One  of  the  most  valuable  acquisitions  made  to  our  historical  stories  since  the  days  of 
Qihhan,"-Atkenaunu 

HEEREN'S  MANUAL  OF  THE  HISTORY  OF  THE  POLITICAL  SYSTEM  OF 

EUROPE  AND  ITS  COLONIES,  from  lU  formation  at  the  close  of  the  Fifteenth  Century, 
to  its  re-estahHshment  upon  the  Fall  of  Napoleon,  translated  from  the  Fifth  German  Edition. 
New  EdIUon,  complete  in  1  vol.  ftvo,  cloth,  U*.  184fi 

«*The  best  History  of  Modem  Europe  that  has  yet  appeared,  and  it  la  Ukely  long  to  remain 
without  a  rivaJ."— W<A«ii*wiit, 

''A  work  of  sterling  value,  which  will  dilTnse  usefiil  knowledre  for  generations,  after  all  the 
shallow  pretenders  to  that  distinction  are  fortunately  forgotten."— Ii/erery  GmzetU. 

HEEREN'S  ANCIENT  GREECE,  translated  by  Barcrovt;  and  HISTORICAL 
TREATISES;  viz:— 1.  The  Political  Consequences  of  the  Reformation.  II.  The  Rise,  Pro- 
gress, and  Practical  Influence  ofPolitical  Tlieories.  III.  The  Rise  and  Growth  of  tlie  Conti- 
nental Interests  of  Great  Britain.    In  1  vol.  8vo,  with  Index,  cloth,  lit,  18i7 

HEEREN'S  MANUAL  OF  ANCIENT  HISTORY,  particularly  with  regard  to  the  Consti- 
tutions, the  Commerce,  and  the  Colonies  of  the  States  of  Antiquity.    Third  Edition,  corrected 
and  improved.    8vo  (pub.  at  15*.),  cloth,  12«. 
«•«  Ar«i0  EdUim,  wUh  Index.  1847 

**  We  never  remember  to  have  seen  a  Work  in  which  so  much  usefhl  knowledge  was  con- 
densed into  eo  small  a  compass.  A  earoftal  examination  convlncea  us  that  this  book  will  b^ 
QsefUl  for  our  English  higher  schools  or  colleges,  and  will  contributa  to  direct  attention  to  the 
better  and  more  instructive  porta  of  history.  The  txanalation  Is  exocutod  with  great  fidelity." 
—Quarlerly  Journal  q/"  Education. 

HEEREN'S  MANUAL  OF  ANCIENT  GEOGRAPHY.  For  the  use  of  Schools  and 
Private  Tuition.  Compiled  from  tlie  Works  of  A.  H.  L.  Hxbrxr,  Umo  (pub.  at  U.  $(i.>, 
cloth,  tt.  Or/orri,  7>i<6oyt,  1830 

**  An  excellent  and  most  usefiil  little  volume,  and  admirably  adapted  for  the  use  of  schools 
and  private  instruction."— £i/rrary  Gazette. 

**  A  valuable  addition  to  our  list  of  school  hockt.**— Athenian, 

JACOB'S  HISTORICAL  INQUIRY  INTO  THE  PRODUCTION  AND  CON- 
SUMPTION OF  THE  PRECIOUS  METALS,  2  vols.  8vo  (pub.  at  It.  4«.),  cloth,  16«.      18SI 

JAMES'S  WILLIAM  THE  THIRD,  comprising  the  History  of  his  Reign,  illustrated  in  a 
series  of  unpublished  letters,  addressed  to  the  Duke  of  Shrewsbury,  by  Jaxbs  Vrrvon, 
Secretary  of  State,  with  Introduction  and  Notes,  by  O.  P.  R.  Jaxrb,  Esq.  8  vols.  8vo,  Per 
traits,  (pub.  at  2/.  2«.),  cloth,  iSa.  1841 

JAENISCH'S  CHESS  PRECEPTOR;  a  new  Analysis  of  tkeopenlnst  of  Games;  translated, 
with  Notes,  by  Walxsr,  8vo,  eloUi  lettered  (pub.  at  19«.),  t$.  M.  1S47 

.lOHNSON'S  (DR.)  ENGLISH  DICTIONARY,  printed  verbatim  fhm  the  Author's  last 
Folio  Edition.  With  all  the  Examples  In  foil.  To  which  are  prefixed  a  Histonr  of  tho  Lan- 
gua^re,  and  an  English  Grammar.    1  large  voL  Imperial  Svo  (pub.  at  2/.  2f.),  cloth.  If.  8«.    184C 

'OHNSON'S  (DR.)  LIFE  AND  WORKS,  hjMvnrnr.  New  and  tanproved  Edition,  com- 
plete  in  2  thick  vols.  Svo,  Portrait,  cloth  lettered  fpnb.  at  IL  lis.  dd.),  Ite.  m» 

nHNSONIANA;  a  Collection  of  MiscellRneous  Anecdotes  and  Sayings,  gathered  firom  noarly  a 
hundred  different  Publications,  and  not  contained  in  BoawxLi/s  Life  of  Johnson.  Edited  by 
J.  W.  Cmkbr,  M.P.  thick  foap.  ««»•  oon««it»ud  fronUsplece  (pub.  at  10«.},  cloth,  4«.  6d. 


Digitized  by 


Google 


IS  CATALOGUE  OF  VSW  BOOKS 

JONIMTOM9  TIIA\MELS  IN  SOUTHEITN  ABYSSINIA,  tbnMih  ths  Covatoj  oTitdflL 
tSTihe  iSEifd^m  of  ShoaTs  volt.  tvo.  nmp  and  plaiM  (pab.  at'u.  8*.).  «lolii,  IM.  6A  iSS 

MMSrS  WONOIRPUL  MUSEUM,  f  vsk.  tro,  npvanU  of  IM  mulou  pMtnita  nA 
ptalM  <pui».  tt^^.  4k),  alelkt  U.  u. 

KNIQHTS  JOURNEY-BOOKS  OF  ENGLAND.  BBRKSHIRE.lneludiBf  ftfUIDcmip- 

HAMPSHIRE,  ineladtaf  th«  Iil«  of  Wight.    WUk  11  Xagnvlnfi  on  Wood,  and  a  large  iltair 

■tMtodllM.    Raducodtote. 
JHIRR, 


DSRBY8HIRR,  tnaladlB*  tha  PaaK,  *«.    With  »  Eagiavliiga  m  Wood,  asd  a  larga  Uhuai- 

MUdf-         "  - 

KENT. 


nal«d  Map.    Reduced  to  U.  fid. 

Wlth5aBnfravlnfaonWood,aiidanaigaUliimiDatadMap.    RadiKad  to  3*.  M. 


KNOWLES'S  IMPROVED  WALKER'S  PRONOUNCING  DICTIONARY,  eontainlna 
aboT*  MfOOftadditional  Wordai  to  which  ia  added  vb  Acceataated  Vocabnlary  of  Oataical  and 
Scripture  Proper  NaoMa,  new  Bditioa,  ia  1  thteh  hawrtiama  ^ioma,  large  Sro,  with  Portrait, 
cloth  lettered  (pub.  at  U.  it. ) ,  7«.  fid.  1M9 

LACONICS;   OR,  THC  BEST  WORDS   OF  THE   BESTT  AUTHORa    SeTenth 

BdiUoB.    3  'vola.  llMa,  with  elefaat  T^oatlapiecea,  eontatnlBg  30  PortralU  ( pab.  at  15*. ) ,  cloth 

gilt,  T.  fid.  TiUt  1848 

Thto  pleaaantoallactioa  ofvlflqr  and  aanteatlatti  raadlaga,  ftma  tha  beat  SagUah  aathon  off 

all  ages,  baa  loag  •lUoT'd  great  and  deaenred  popttlailtjr. 

LANE'S  KORAN,  SELECTIONS  FROM  THE,  with  an  iatarwoTan  ConmaataTy,  traaa. 
lated  Arom  the  Arabic,  methodlcallj  arraagad,  aad  Uloatxated  hj  Motes,  8to  (pub.  atlOs.  ecL), 


LEAKC?  (COL.)  TRAVELS  IN  THE  MOREA.   3T0ls.gvo.   With  a  Tcrj  large  Map  of 

the  Morea,  and  uvwaros  of  3*^ — ' — ** —  '*' —    **""" * — ' — '  " — *"  ' '"" *"~ 

(pub.  at  2L  ft*.)  cloth,  IL  I 


r  30  faxioua  Maps,  Flaai,  Platea  of  aadaat  Greek  laacriptiaBi^  ftc 


LEWIS'S  (MONK)  LIFE  AND  CORRESPONDENCE,  with  iiuui7  Pieces  ia  Praaa  and 
Verse  never  before  pabUihfd.    3Tola.8vo,  portxait(pab.at4^tK),oletii,  Us.  1338 

LISTER'S  UFE  OF  EDWARD  FIRST  EARL  OF  CLARENDON.  With  OrialBal 
Correapeadeoee  aad  Authaatto  Papaia,  never  baiore  pubUshied.  3  vela*  fro.  Portrait  (pnb.  at 
3^.  Bt.}.cloth,  18«.  18S8 

"  A  Work  of  laberloos  raaaaich,  written  with  BMaterlj  tLWIItj.**-'Allm, 


LOCKHART'S  HISTORY  OF  THE  CONQUEST  OF  MEXICO  AND  NEW  SPAIN, 

AND   MBMOIHS   OF    THE    CONaUISrXboR,   BERNAL  DIAZ   DEL   CAST^LLo! 

Written  by  bimself.  and  now  flint  oowplataljr  tranalated  flrom  the  original  Spanish,    g  vola. 

tYO,  (pub.  at  U.  U.),  cloth,  13«.  Ig44 

«'Bernal  Dias'a  account  bean  all  the  BMrka  of  nathentlclty,  and  Is  aecMnpankd  with  noclt 

-    pleasant  nalvetA,  with  each  intereatlag  details,  and  such  amusing  vanity,  aad  yet  so  pardonable 

'    in  an  old  soldier,  who  has  been,  aa  he  ooasU,  in  a  hundred  and  nlnetaw[i  battles,  a»  rcndera  bis 

book  one  of  the  moat  alngnlar  that  is  to  be  found  in  any  language.*'— Dr.  Robertmm  te  Asa 

**HiUorvqfAmeHem," 

LODGE'S  (EDMUND)  ILLUSTRATIONS  OF  BRITISH  HISTORY.  BIOGRAPHY, 
AND  MANNERS,  in  the  Reigns  of  Henry  VIII.,  Edhrard  VI.,  Mary,  Ellxabetb,  aad  Jamea  I. 
Second  Edition,  with  above  80  autographs  of  the  principal  ehanctera  of  the  period.  Tbree 
vola.8vo(pub.atU..Ms.),ota4h,l<.  183S 


MACGREGOR'S    PROQHB99   OF    AMERICA    FROM  ^TME    DISCOVERY  _BY 

COLUMBUS,  to  the  year  iMfi,  comprising  its  Blatory  aad  Str''-'' ^-•■'-  '^•-"- 

▼olumaa,  imp.  Svo,  doth  lettered  (pvb.  at  4L  lU.  8dL),  U.  lie  fid. 


MALCOLM'S  MEMOIR  OF  CENTRAL  INDIA.  Two  vols,  fivo,  thiid  edltloa,witk  tana 
nap  ( pub.  at  U.  8fc ),  doth,  IS*.  ■"'  Ittt 

MARTINS  (MONTGOMERY)  BRITISH  COLONIAL  LIBRARY?  fonnlaa  aoopular 
and  Authentic  Description  of  all  the  Colonies  of  the  British  Empire,  and  embradng  the 
Histoiy^Physical  Oeegrapky—Ocelogy—CI&natfr— Animal,  VeKCtaole,  and  Mineral  Ktng- 
doma—Oovemment— Finance— Military  Defence— Commerce— Shipptng^Monetary  Syatem — 
Religion- Population,  White  and  Coloured— Bdocation  and  the  Press-Emigratlota— Social 
State,  ftc,  or  each  Settlement.  Founded  ua  OflVciai  aad  Public  Documenta,  furnlshad  1^ 
Oovemment,  the  Hon.  Bast  India  Company,  ftc.  Illoatratad  by  original  Mapa  aad  Ptetea. 
10  vols,  foolacap  Svo  (puh.  at  3/.),  cloth,  1/.  15*. 

These  10  vols,  contain  the  S  voia.  Svo,  verbatim,  with  a  few  addlttpna.  Each  foloneof  tlie 
above  aeries  Is  eomplata  In  itsaU;  and  aold  separately,  aa  fellowa,  at  Sr  fid.  :— 

Vol.  I.— Tna  Cakadas,  Uvraa  and  Lowaa. 

Vol.  II.— Miir  SovTH  WALaa,  Vav  DiSKav's  Lavd,  Sitav  RxTsa,  aad  Soxm  Av8« 

nALIA. 

Vol.  III.— Taa  Cavk ov  Gaon  Hovs. MAtrarnvataadSBTCsauxg. 

Vol.  IV.— Tna  Wear  iKDtsa.    Voi.  I.-nJaaiaica,  Headiuaa,  Triaidad,  IWbago, 
the  Bahamaa,  and  the  Virgin  Isles.  _ 

Vol.  V.~THa  Wasx  InniBa.    VoL  II.— BrWak  Gaiaaa.  Barbadoea,  St.  Lucia,  St.  VlaeMrt^ 

Scmerara,  Eaaeqalha,  Barbica,  AagoiBa,  Tortala,  81.  KittX  Barboda,  '-** —  *•—*- ' 

Dominica*  aad  Nevis.  ^  ^         «  «  „  .    - 

Vol.  VI.— NoYA  Scotia,  Naw  Bav^stvicK,  CAva  Baaroa,  Paixcx  BawAao'a  ImxM, 
TBaBaaaVDAa,  NawFoomJtAaD,  aad  Hanaoa'a  Bat. 

Vol.  VII.— GiBaALTAa.  Malca,  Taa  Ioxiak  laLAXoa,  He, 

Vol.  VIII.— Thb  East  Ikdibs.    Vol.  I.  containing  Bengal,  lIa'.nB,  Bombay,  Agn,  ka. 

Vol.  IX.-TRa  EA8T  Ivaiaa.    Vd.  II. 
_Vol.  X.— BaiTian  Posaaasiovs  ix  ma  laaiAv  Aim  ATi^Aanc  OeaAva,  vis.— CMea, 
filnaag,  Malacca,  SInRapore,  Sferra  I^oni  tlrt  Gambia,  Ca,ia  Ceaat  Oaatlfi^  As«n,  tfeb  fklk- 
«J»i  Islands,  ttt.  lle>na  and  A«<:cn«iAa 


Digitized  by 


Google 


PUBLISHED  OR  SOLD  BT  H.  G.  BQHK.  1^ 

MAITTIN^S  (MONTGOMERY)  CHINA,    PolRIral,  ComneRial,  «ad  S«M.    two  vote. 

8vo,  6  maiM,  itotilUeal  tables,  fte.  ( pub.  at  IL  4«. ),  clolh,  Ua.  1M7 

MAXWELL'S  LIFE  OF  THE  DUKE  OF  WELLINGTON,  s  bandamne  «olmiMa,  Iro. 
•EmbelUshtd  with  numerona  hff^ty-ftiilihed  Liae-Engraviags  by  Coopbk  and  otfeer  nnineKt 
Artlita,  eonstotlDs  of  Bcttle^Piecea.  Portrait«,  Military  Plans  aod  Maps;  bwidaa  a  tTMt 
•mimb«r  of  flat  Wood  Engrarings.  (Pub.  at  S/.  7i.},  elegant  in  gilt  cloth,  IL  18».  Large  iMtper, 
'India  prooft  (pttb.  at  &L),filt  cloth,  81.  Sf.  1839-41 

**  Mr.  Maxwell's  *  Life  oitha  Duke  of  Wellington,'  In  oar  opiaion,  has  no  rival  among  similar 

publications  of  the  day We  pronounce  It  fVee  from  flirttery  and  bomheat,  snccioct 

■ad  masterly The  type  and  mechanical  execatlon  are  admirable;  the  plans  of 

battles  and  lieges  numerous,  aaiple,  and  useful ;  the  portraita  of  the  Doite  and  his  warrior 
conlamporaries  maay  and  faithlul;  tlie  battle  pictures  animated  and  brilliant;  ami  the 
-eiRncttes  of  costumes  aad  maonan  worthy  of  the  military  genius  of  Horace  Vorset  himself.  "-> 

SfMS. 

MILUS  ELEMENTS  OF  POUTtCAL  ECONOMY,  aew  Edition,  reviMA  and  cometed. 


Sto  (pub.  at  St.),  cloth, as.  6d. 


MILTON'S  WOAKS,  BOTH  PROSE  AND  POETICAL,  with  an  Introductory  Beview, 
by  PLETCHX1^  complete  in  1  thicic  vol.  imperial  8vo  (pub.  at  lU  5s.),  eloth  lettered,  IL 1$.  1838 
This  is  tlie  only  complete  edition  of  Milton's  Prose  Worlcs,  at  a  moderate  fwlee. 

MITFORO  S  HISTORY  OF  QIIEECE*  BY  LORD  REDESOALE,  the  ehraaology  cor- 
rected  and  comitared  with  CUntonUFtmU  UeUtnieii  by  Kive,  (Cadell's  laafrandimuch  the  best 
EdHion,  18S8)  8  vols.  8vo  (pub.  at4i.  4s.),  gHt  cloth,  lU  1S«. 

Tree-marbled  calf  extra,  hj  Clakkb,  4L  4«. 

In  respect  to  this  new  and  improved  edition,  one  of  the  most  eminent  scholars  of  the  present 
dor  has  expressed  his  oninlon  that  **tbe  increased  advantages  given  to  It  liave  doubled  the 
mnginal  value  of  the  worx." 

It  should  be  observed  that  the  nwneroua  additions  and  the  amended  Chronology,  from  that 
valuable  performance,  Hie  FomU  Hellenicit  are  sul^oined  in  the  shape  of  Notes,  sou  not  to 
Interfere  with  the  integrity  of  the  text. 

As  there  are  many  editions  of  Mittord's  Oraece  before  the  public,  it  mav  be  necessary  to 
9l«erve  that  the  present  octavo  edition  is  the  only  one  which  contains  Mr.  lung's  last  correc- 
tions and  additions  (which,  as  stated  in  his  advertisement,  are  mateiiaJ);  it  is  at  the  samo 
time  the  only  edition  which  should  at  the  present  day  be  ehoran  for  the  genUeman's  library, 
being  the  handsomest,  the  most  correct,  and  the  roost  coaipIe«e. 

Lord  Byron  says  ofMitford,  "His  is  the  best  Modern  Histcvy  of  Greece  In  any  language, 
and  he  is  perhaps  the  best  of  all  modern  historians  Hrhatsoever.  His  virtues  are  learning, 
labour,  research,  and  earnestness." 

**  Considered  with  respect,  not  only  to  the  *holoaei4ea  of  ancient  evonta  ivhifih  it  comprises, 
but  also  to  anv  very  prominent  portion  of  that  seriaa,  Mr.  Mitfotd'a  History  is  the  beat  that 
has  appeared  since  the  days  of  Xenophon."— £<tiniiur^A  Review. 

MONSTRELETS  CHRONICLES  OF  ENGLAND  AND  FRANCE,  by  Colonel 
John  as,  with  Notes,  and  upwards  of  100  Woodeats  (tthiform  with  Frolssart),  2  vols,  super- 
royal  8 vo,  eloth  lettered  ( pub.  at  1/.  10«. ) ,  1/.  4s. 

MOORE'S  (THOMAS)  EPICUREAN,  A  TALE;    AND  ALCIPHRON,  A  POEM. 

TuRNKR's  Illunrated  Edition,  fcap.  8vo,  4  beautiihl  Engravings  (pub.  at  Me.  6d.)«  clotii,  St., 
or  elegantly  bound  in  morocco,  7<.  Od.  1839 

MORES  UTOPIA,  OR,  THE  HAPPY  REPUBLIC,  a  Philosophical  Komance;  to  which 
is  added,  THE  NEW  ATLANTIS,  by  Lord  Bacov;  with  a  Preliminary  Discourse,  and 
Notes,  by  J.  A.  St.  JoHK,  fcap.  8vo  (pub.  at  6>.),  clotli.  4>.  (M.— With  the  Life  of  Sir  Thomas 
Mere,  by  Sir  J Axna  Mack  iktosh,  3  vols.  fcap.  Svo,  cloth,  as.  1845 

NELSON'S  LETTERS  AND  DISPATCHES,  by  Sir  HAmms  Nicoi;a8,  7  vo1b.8vo  (pub. 
at  5^.  10«.),  cloth,  3/.  10<.  18W-4< 

NtEBUHR'S  HISTORY  OF  ROME  epitomised,  wlfhOhronoiogieal  Tables  and  an  Aim 
pendix,  by  Travers  Twiss,  B.C.L.  2  vols.  8vo,  cloth  (pub.  at  1^  l«.),  ia«.  fid. 
■  ""  ■  the  same,  in  calf,  glit  (for  school  prizes),  1ft*. 

OSSIAN'S  POEMS,  translateit  by  MacphbK90w.  with  Disseitationa  concerning  the  Era  and 
Poems  of  Or  SI  ax;  and  Dr.  Blair's  Critical  Dissertation,  complete  in  1  neatly  printed  vol. 
ISmo,  Frontispiece  ( poh.  at  4«. ),  cloth,  3f.  1844 

OUSELErS  (SIR  WILLIAM)  TRAVELS  IN  VARIOUS  COUNTRIES  OF  THE 
EAST,  MORE  PAR'ncULARLY.PERatA;  with  Extracta  Item  rare  and  viriuableOrienUa 
ManuseripU ;  and  89  Platea  and  Maps,  9  vols.  4to  (pub.  at  11/.),  extra  doth  boards,  U.  8s. 

OXFORD  ENGLISH  PRIZE  ESSAYS,  new  Editien,  brought  down  to  18S6,  8  vols,  crown 
8vo,  cloth  lettered  (pub.  at  2i.  is.),  U.  5<. 

PARDOE'S  (MISS)  CITY  OF  THE  MAGYAR.  Or  KnnwaijaDdher  lastttntiona  in  issg. 
40,  3  vols.  8vo,  with  9  Engravings  (pun.  at  U.  lit.  M.),  gUt  cloth,  10«.  1UU  1849 

PARRY'S  CAMBRIAN  PLUTARCH,  comprising  Memoirs  of  soma  of  the  moat  eminent 
Welshmen,  from  the  earliest  times  to  the  present,  8vo  (pub.  at  18«.  M.),  cloth,  it.  1834 

PERCY'S  RELIQUES  OF^ANCIENT^ENGUSH  POETRY,  consisting  of  Old  Heroic 
Ballads,  Songs,  and  other  Pieces  of  our  Earlier  Poets,  together  with  some  few  of  later  date, 
and  a  coplovs  Glossary,  complete  In  I  vol.  medium  8vo.  New  and  elegant  Edition,  with  beao- 
tUnlly  engraved  Title  and  Frontispiece, by  STEPHAKorF  (pnb.  at  \is.).  cloth,  gilt,  7'.  6d.    1844 

**But  above  all,  I  then  first  became  acquainted  witli  Bishop  Percy's  ^llelhjues  of  Ancient 
Foetry.'  The  first  time,  too,  I  could  scrape  a  few  ahillings  together,  I  boutrfat  unto  myself « 
amy  of  these  beloved  volumes : .  nor  do  I  believe  I  ever  read  a  book  half  so  frequently,  or  witi 
Wtf  the  enthnsiasm."— Sir  Walter  ScoU. 

^  Percy's  Reliques  are  the  most  agreeable  lelaetlon,  ptihape,  which  axlsta  In  aay  langvi^ga.** 

Digitized  byVjOOQlC 


20  CATALOetTk  OF  KBW  BOOKS 

POPULAR  ERRORS  EXPLAINED  AND  ILLUSTRATEa  By  Joinr  Tmm  fA«»or 
of  LMoaiM,  and  Editor  of  Uie  "  lUnstnUd  LoadM  Mews,")  thick  feap.  •to,  eloMly  hut 
•Isfsatly  prloud,  Frontbplece,  cioth,  redactd  to  it.  IMl 

PRIOR'S  LIFE  OF  EDMUND  BURKE,  vfth  anpabltohed  SpMkMDi  of  hU  P^eicv  and 
L^n.  TbM  Md  nneh  improTod  Edidon,  Sto,  PortraU  and  Autognpha  (pub.  at  U«.|,  rilt 
cloth.  9i.  ^*^ 

**Ksc«UaBt  IhoUnr,  la  panplcuoaa  and  forcible  lantuaga."— <2icartor<|r  Remew, 

PRIOR'S  LIFE  OF  OLIVER  GOLDSMITH,  from  a  vailety  of  Original  Sources,  7  yoU,  Sto, 
handMrnelyprioted  (pub.  at  1/.  iw.).  g»l»  cloth,  m.        ^ ^ ^^_  ^^     jm 


Ivprioted   pub.  at  1/.1M.).  Kilt  Cloth,  m.  ..'""^ 

The  ■olidworth  or  this  hlosraphy  consiati  in  the  many  striking  anecdotes  vhleh  Mr.  Pnor 
has  gathered  in  the  course  of  his  anxious  researches  among  Ooidsmlth's  surviving  aeouaint. 
ances,  and  the  immediate  descendants  of  his  personal  friends  in  London,  ard  relatfoBs  in 
Ireland;  above  alt,  in  the  rich  mass  of  the  poet's  ova  familiar  letters,  which  he  ha*  been 
enabled  to  bring  together  for  the  first  time.  No  poet's  letters  In  the  world,  not  even  those  of 
Cowper,  appear  to  us  more  tnUresting."— <2HaWer/y  Review. 
RAFFLES'  HISTORY  OF  JAVA,  AND  LIFE,  with  an  account  af  Beneoolen,  an4  Details 
of  the  Commerce  and  Resources  of  the  Indian  Archipelago.  Edited  bv  La&t  RArrvKs. 
Together  4  vols,  gvo,  and  a  splendid  quarto  atlas,  containing  upwards  of  lOOTlatoa  bjr  I>aklki:, 
many  finelj  coloured  (pub.  at  4/.  14«.),  cloth,  2L  8e.  189a-3» 

RICH'S  BABYLON  AND  PERSEPOLIS,  via.  Narrative  of  a  JounMj  to  the  Site  of 
Babylon ;  Two  Memoirs  on  tlie  Kuins ;  Remarica  an  the  Topography  of  Andent  Babylon,  by 
Maior  RBNasLL:  Narrative  of  a  Journey  to  Peraepoiis,  with  hitherto  unpubUaliad  Cuneiform 
InacripUons.    Svo,  Maps  and  Plates  (pub.  at  1^  !<.),  cloth,  10*.  fid.  iHaiean^  18» 

RITSON'S  VARIOUS  WORKS  AND  METRICAL  ROMANCES,  as  Published  by 
Pickering,  the  Set,  vis :— Robin  Hood,  2  vols.— Annals  of  the  Caledonians,  3  vols. — ^Ancient 
Songs  and  Ballads,  a  vola.— Memoirs  of  the  Celts,  1  vol.— Life  of  King  Arthur,  1  voL— Ancjent 
Popular  Poetry,  1  vol.— Fairy  Talea,  1  vol.— Letters  and  Memoirs  of  Bitson,  S  vols :  toKether 
U  vola.  post  Svo  (pub.  at  6^  te.  fid.),  cloth  gilt,  3^.  S«.  1827-» 

Or  leforately  mfoUMot : 

RITSON'S  ROBIN  HOOD,  a  Collection  of  Ancient  Poems,  Songs,  and  Ballads,  relative  to  that 
celebrated  Outlaw;  with  Histoilcai  Anecdotes  of  bis  Life.    2  vola.  10*. 

RITSON'S  ANNALS  OF  THE  CALEDONIANS,  PICTS,  AND  SCOTS.    3  vola,  Ifis. 

RITSON'S  MEMOIRS  OF  THE  CELTS  OR  GAULS.    lOfc 

RITSON'S  ANCIENT  SONGS  AND  BALLADS.    2  vols.  18*. 

RITSON'S  PIECES  OF  ANCIENT  POPULAR  POETRY.    Poat  fivo,  7«. 

RITSON'S  FAIRY  TALES,  now  first  coUectad;  to  which  are  preSxed  two  Dis8ertattona_l.  On 
Pigmies,    t.  On  Fairies,  8«. 

RITSON'S  LIFE  AND  LETTERS  OF  JOSEPH  RITSON,  Esq.  edited  from  Ocigliiala^a  tho 
Possession  of  his  Nephew,  by  Sin  Harkis  Nicolas,  3  vols.  16«. 

"  No  library  can  be  called  complete  in  old  EnKlish  lore,  which  has  not  the  whole  of  the  pro- 
ductions of  this  laborious  and  suceessflil  antiquary."— wt^A^meitm. 
"Joseph  Ritson  was  an  antiquary  of  the  first  order."— <hMr<er<y  Renew, 

ROBINSON  CRUSOE,  Cabinet  Pictorial  Edition,  including  hia  Further  Adventured,  with 
Life  of  Defoe,  fte.  upwards  of  fio  fine  Woodcuts,  from  Designa  by  Hakvxy,  ibap.  Svo,  New 
and  improved  Edition,  with  additional  cuu,  cloth  gilt,  &•.  IS46 

The  only  small  edition  which  is  quite  complete. 

**  Perhaps  tliere  exists  no  work,  either  of  instruction  or  entertainment,  in  the  EngllA  lan- 
guage which  has  been  more  generally  read,  or  mora  deservedly  admired,  than  the  Life  and 
Adventures  of  Robinson  Cr  isoe."— &'r  WtMer  SeoU. 

RODNEY'S  (LORD)  LIFE,  by  Lieut..Oen.  Hvvdt,  New  Edition,  fcap.  Svo,  Portrait^  doth 
(pub.atfi>.),3«.6d. 

ROLUN'S  ANCIENT  HISTORY,  a  New  and  complete  Edition,  with  engraved  Fraatlapleoes 

and  7  Maps.   3  vols,  bound  in  1  stout  handsome  vol.  royal  Svo  (pub.  at  1/.  4«.),  cloth,  lat.    184« 

The  only  complete  mlition  in  a  compact  form;  it  is  uniform  in  size  and  appearance  with 

Moxon's  Series  of  Dramatists,  ftc.    The  previous  editions  of  Rollin  in  a  single  volume  are 

greatly  abridged,  and  contain  scarcely  half  the  work. 

ROSCOE'S  LIFE  AND  PONTIFICATE  OF  LEO  THE  TENTH.  New  and  much 
improved  Edition,  edited  by  his  Son,  Thou  as  Roscob.  Complete  in  1  stout  vol.  Svo,  closely 
but  very  handsomely  printed,  illustrated  by  3  fine  Portraito,  and  numerous  Ulustrative  En- 
gravings, as  head  and  tall-pieces,  cloth,  1^.  it.  ISiS 

ROSCOE'S  LIFE  OF  LORENZO  DE  MEDICI,  CALLED  "THE  MAGNinCENT." 

New  and  much  improved  Edition,  edited  by  his  Son,  Thumas  Roscob.  Complete  in  1  stout 
vol.  Svo,  closelv  but  very  handsomely  printed,  illustrated  by  numerous  Engravings,  introduced 
aa  head  and  tail-pieces,  cloth,  12«.  ISIS 

**  I  have  not  terms  sufflelent  to  express  my  admiration  of  Mr.  Roscoe's  genius  and  eroditioa,- 
or  my  gratitude  for  the  amusement  and  information  I  have  received.  I  recommend  his  labours 
to  our  country  as  works  of  unquestionable  genius  and  uncommon  merit.  They  add  the  name  of 
Boseoe  to  the  verv  first  rank  oi  Englhih  Classical  Historians."— ^M//Aia«,  FunuUtqfLUentture. 

**  Roscoe  is,  1  think,  by  far  the  best  of  our  Historians,  both  for  beauty  of  style  and  for  deep 
refiections;  and  bis  translations  of  poetry  are  eaual  to  the  origiaala."— IFe^pote,  Eturi^fOffotA, 

ROSCOE'S    ILLUSTRATIONS,    HISTORICAL   AND    CRITICAL,   of  the  Life  of 
Lorenzo  de  Medici,  with  an  Appendix  of  Original  Documents.    Svo,  Portrait  of  Loranao,  and 
Plates  (pub.  at  14«.),  boards,  7<..  or  in  4to,  priutAd  to  match  the  original  edittoa.    Paitall 
•nd Plates  (pub.  at  1/.  ll«.  9d.),  HIards,  10.. 
*•«  This  volume  is  supplementary  to  all  editions  of  the  work. 

Digitized  byVjOOQlC 


PUBLISHED  OR  SOLD  BT  H.  G.  BOnX.  21 

BOXBURGHE  BALLADS,  edited  by  Johx  Patw  CoLtTXR,  post  4to,beantifoll]r printed 
Inr  WumivoHAX,  and  embelltohed  with  M  eoiioiu  WoodcuU,  half  bound  morocco,  ia  the 
Boxburffh  style  (pub.  at  If.  4«.  )>  13«.  U47 

SCOTTS  (SIR  WALTER)  POETICAL  WORKS.  Containing  Uyof  the  Lait  Minetwl. 
iTannion,  Lady  of  the  Lake,  Don  Roderic,  Rokeby,  Ballade,  Lyncs,  and  Songe,  with  Notes 
and  a  Life  of  the  Author,  complete  in  one  elegantly  printed  toL  Mmo,  Portrait  and  Frontis- 
piece (pub.  at  St.),  cloth,  3«.  id,  IStt 

SHAKESPEARE'S  PLAYS  AND  POEMS.  Valpt's  Cabinet  Pictorial  Edition,  with  Life. 
Olosaarial  Notes,  and  Historical  Digests  of  each  Play,  ftc.  15  vols.  fcap.  Sto,  with  171  Plat« 
enRraved  on  Steel  after  designs  of  the  most  distinguished  British  Artists,  also  Fac-aimiles  ^i 
all  the  known  Autographs  of  Shakespeare  (pub.  at  SI.  U$.),  cloth,  richly  gilt,  tl.  U.  IMS 

SHAKSPEARE'S  PLAYS  AND  POEMS,  in  1  vol.  s*o,  with  Explanatory  Notes,  tad  a 
Memoir  by  Dn.  Johksov,  portrait  (pub.  at  15«.),  cloth,  7«.  M. 

SHAKSPEARE'S  PLAYS  AND  POEMS,  Pocket  Edition,  with  a  Life  by  Aj.MXAmin 
Chalmbks,  complete  in  1  thick  vol.  12mo,  printed  in  a  Diamond  type,  with  40  steel  Engrav- 
ings (pub.  at  lOf.  ed.),  cloth,  it.  1848 

SHERIDAN'S  (THE  RIGHT  HON.  R.  BRINSLEY)  SPEECHES,  wttii  a  Sketch  of  hia 
Life,  Edited  by  a  Constitutional  Friend.  New  and  handsome  Ubnuy  Edition,  with  Portrait, 
complete  in  3  vols.  Svo  (pub.  at  It.  St. ),  cloth,  lis.  IMX 

*'  Whatever  Sheridan  has  done,  has  bten  par  ejteellenett  always  the  beit  of  its  kind.  He  has 
written  the  bett  comedy  (School  for  Scandal),  the  bett  drama  (The  Duenna),  the  betl  farce  (The 
Critic),  and  the  bttt  adoress  (Monologue  on  Ganrick) :  and  to  erovn  all,  delivered  tlie  very 
best  oration  (the  famous  Begum  Speech)  ever  conceived  or  heard  in  this  country.'*'iryroib 

SHIPWRECKS  AND  DISASTERS  AT  SEA ;  narratives  of  the  most  remarkable  Wrecks. 
Conflagrations,  Mutinies,  St.  comprising  the  *'  Loss  of  the  Wager,"  "Mutiny  of  the  Bounty," 
he.  Umo,  firontlspiece  and  vignette  (pub.  at  b.},  cloth,  U.  1S4C 

8M0LLETTS  WORKS,  Edited  by  Roscos.  Complete  in  1  voU  (Boderick  Bandom,  Hum* 
phrey  CHnker,  Peregrine  Pickle,  Launcelot  Greaves,  Count  Fathom,  Adventures  of  an  Atom, 
Travels,  Playa,  fte.)  Medium  <vo,  with  21  capital  Plates,  by  Ckvixbuavk  (pub.  at  1^  4t.), 
cloth  glit,  14i.  •  1MB 

**  Perhaps  no  books  ever  written  excited  such  peala  of  inczUngulahable  laughter  as  Smol- 
lett's."—&r  Walter  Seott. 

SOUTH  EY'S  LIVES  OF  UNEDUCATED  POETS.  To  which  are  added,  » Attempts  la 
Verse,"  by  Johv  Jovxa,  an  Old  Servant.   Crown  8vo  (pub.  at  lOi.  M.),  cloth,  it.  M. 

Murray,  1836 

SPENSER'S  POETICAL  WORKS.  Complete,  irith  Introductory  Observations  on  the 
Faerie  Queen,  and  Oloesaiial  Notes,  handsomely  adnted  in  5  volk.  poet  tvo,  fine  Portrait 
( pub.  at  8i.  IK.  6d. ),  cloth,  li.  1«.  1M5 

STERNE'S  WORKS,  complete  la  1  vol.  Svo,  Fortntt  and  vignette  (pub.  at  ISs.),  cloth,  io«.  M. 

ST.  PIERRE'S  WORKS,  inelnding  the  "Studies  of  Nature."  *«Panl  and  Virginia,"  and  the 
"Indian  Cottage,"  wHh  a  Memoir  of  the  Author,  and  Notes,  by  the  Bav.  E.  Cla&xb, 
complete  in  2  thick  vols.  fcap.  Svo,  Portrait  and  Frontispieces  (pub.  at  16«.),  cloth,  7«.        184S 

SWIFTS  WORKS,  Edited  by  Boacos.  Complete  in  2  vols.  Medium  8vo,  Portrait  (pub.  at 
1;.  13*.),  cloth  gilt,  H.  4s.  184S 

"  Whoever  in  the  three  kingdoms  has  any  books  at  all,  has  Swift."— lord  ChetterfitU. 

TAYLOR'S  (W.  B.  S.)  HISTORY  OF  THE  UNIVERSITY  OF  DUBUN,  numntwa 
Wood  Engravings  of  its  Buildings  and  Academic  Costumes  (pub.  at  1^.},  cloth,  7«.  6d.        184f 

THIERS'  HISTORY  OF  THE  FRENCH  REVOLUTION,  the  10  parts  in  1  thick  vol. 
royal  Svo,  handsomely  printed,  cloth  lettered  (pub.  at  U.  it.),  los. 

the  same,  the  parta  separately,  each  (pub.  at  it.  6d.)  1«.  6tf. 

THIERS'  HISTORY  OF  THE  CONSULATE  AND  EMPIRE  OF  NAPOLEON, 
the  10  parta  in  i  thick  volume,  royal  Svo,  handsomely  printed,  doth  lettered  (pub.  at  U. ««.), 

■  '    ■  '•  the  same,  the  parts  separately,  each  (pub.  at  it.  6d.)  Is.  td, 

TUCKER'S  LIGHT  OF  NATURE  PURSUED.  Complete  la  s  tola.  Svo  (pub.  at  U.  10..I, 
ciotib  lit.  liii 

"The  'Light  of  Nature'  la  a  work  which,  after  much  eonaideration,  I  think  myself  < 
rlzed  to  call  the  moet  original  and  profound  that  haa  ever  appeared  on  moral  plUloeophy. 

.TYTLER-S^ ELEMENTS  OF  GENERAL  HISTORY,  New  Edition,  thick  Um«  (fM 
closely  printed  pages),  steel  fh>ntl*piece  (pub.  at  it.)  cloth,  St.  6d.  1S47 

WADE'S  BRITISH  HISTORY,  CHRONOLOGICALLY  ARRANGED.  Comprehending 
a  Classified  Analysia  of  Events  and  Occurrences  in  Church  and  Statu,  and  of  the  ConstttuttoMuT 
Political,  Commercial.  Intellectual,  and  Social  Progress  of  the  United  Kingdom,  ttom  the  first 
Invasion  by  the  Romans  to  the  Accession  of  dueeii  Victoria,  with  very  copious  Index  ana 
Supniemcnt.     New  Eaition.    1  large  and  remarkably  thick  vol.  royal  Svo  (1200  paSMh 

Digitized  byVjOOQlC 


CATALOaVK  OF  KSW  BOOKS 


WATEASTCM'S  CYCLOPitlNA  OF  GDMMEIICC.  HBBCAKTrUB,  LAW,  FIlNllielt. 
COMMERCIAL,  OBOOJLAPHY  AND  NAVIGATION.  N«»  BMtloB,  ineludlnr tbeHew 
Tariff  (complete  to  the  prcMiit  time):  the  French  Tariff,  ai  far  as  It  ooncems  thts  eovntxy; 
and  a  TreatUe  on  the  Primiiple*,  Practicc»  and  HiMtorjr  of  Commoree,  by  J.  &.  M*Cq&xach. 
1  vary  ikkk  cloaaiy  prinlMl  vol.  Svo  (900  pasaa),  vitfa  4  Mapa  (imb.  at  IL  U.),  axtra  dotk, 

1847 


Tkia  eapltal  work  vUl  U  fe«B4  a  Mart  TalMUa  namud  toovaix 
nil  hook  to  the  raneral  raadar. 


Weftil  hook  to  the  ireneral 

WIBSTER'S    ENLARQEO    DICTfONARY    OF    THE     ENCLI8H     LANQUAOC, 

ConUlnlna  the  whole  of  the  former  odittone.  and  lefgaaddltlona,  to  which  fa  prefixed  aa  iMto- 
4uelory  Dbeartailon  oa  the  eonnection  of  the  lanna«ee  of  Weatern  Aeia  and  Europe,  edited 
by  Chavucbt  A.  Omtbmch,  la  oae  «Uek  alagai^  piiaMd  votana,  Mo.,  cloth,  2L  U.  (Tbe 
most  conpleu  dictionary  axtant).  um 

WHITE'S  FARRIERY,  imprwad  by  Bmibb,  tfo,  wRk  piatai  angrtrad  on  Steel  (pab.  at  14*.), 
cloth,  7i.  IMV 

WHYTE'8  HISTORY  OF  THE  BRITISH  TURF,  mOM  THB  SAHXJBST  PERIOD 
TO  THE  PRESENT  DAT.    3  vole.  Sto,  Plates  (pab.  at  U.  St.),  clath.  Mi.  1840 


active  and  laqulsitlvc  traveller,  throoch  some  of  the  moat  lotarestl&c  paiU  of  Eurepa. 
cariosity  and  love  of  enterprise  are  naDounded.  The  narrative  to  told  in  easy,  fluent  laa^ 
with  a  poet's  power  of  iUust(ation.**~&iiMtarf4  Jtmnow 

WORCESTER'S  NEW  CRITICAL  AND  PRONOUNCING  DICTIONARY  OF 
THE  ENGLISH  LANGUAGE,  to  which  to  added  Walker's  Key,  and  a  ProaooneinK  To«a>- 
bttlary  of  modem  Geographical  Names,  thick  Imperial  «vo  (pub.  at  1^  fa.),  doth,  18s^  1847 

•••  The  most  eztanslva  aatalovaa  af  words  ever  pradocad. 

WRANQELLB   EXPEDITION   TO   SIBERtA   AND   THE   POLAR   SEA^adltodby 

Lle«t.«CeL  SaMne,  thick  Umo,  large  m^  and  port.  ( pub.  at  6$. ),  doth,  4«.  «d.  1844 

WRIGHTS  COURT  HAND  RESTORED,  or  the  student  aiatoted  in  raadbv  old  ckarters, 
"     '    " 'i4to,l8pialea(pnb.atU.8«.),cloth,  lb.  1848 


prologs,  jnotalSi  <SccUs(astteal  Utotarg^  to. 


BINQHAM'S  ANTIQUITIES  OF  THEOHRISTrAN 'CHUROH.    New  and  faaprovad 

Edition,  carefully  revised,  with  aa  enlarged  Index.    3  vols.  Imnl.  8«04«loth,  U.  lU.  6d.       1888 

**  Bingham  Is  a  writer  who  does  e<|«al  honour  to  the  Bngiish  clergy  and  to  the  Baglbh 

natioa,  and  whose  leamtag  Is  anly  to 'be  equalled  by  his  moderation  and  impartiality." — 

HuMTlerl^  Review. 

BUNYAN'S  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS.  Oalte  complete,  with  a  Ufa  aad  Notes,  br  tlie  Bev 
T.  Scott.  Fcap.  12mo,  with  25  floe  full-sized  Woodcuts  by  Hahtxt,  ooatainliig  all  la 
Southey's  edition ;  also  a  tne  Fronttopiece  and  Vignette,  doth,  U.  9d.  1844 

CALMET'S    DICTIONARY   OF   THE    BIBLE,    WITH   THE    BfBUCAL   FRAG 

MENTS,  by  ^^  ^*«  Chaklks  Tatloh.  6  vols.  4to,  Illustrated  by  208  Copper-plate  En. 
gravings.  Eighth  greatly  enlarged  Edition,  beautilully  priatcd  on  ilna  wove  paper  (pub.  a* 
Sol.  lO*.).  gilt  cloth,  4Z.  if..  8rf.  .  1847 
Mr.  Taylor's  improved  edition  of  Calmet's  Dictionary  to  Indispensably  aeeessarr  to  every 
.......     ^^  addiUons  made  mder  the  tlUe  of  *  Pngnwnts'  are  exftaeted  flnom  the 


Biblical  Student.    The  addiUons  made  mder  the  tlUe  of    _       

most  rare  and  authentic  Voysges  and  Travels  into  Judea  and  other  Oriental  countries, 


oysges 

comprehend  an  assemblage  of  cui 
Indoents,  customs,  --■' 


in  assemblage  of  curloun  and  lllastratlve  deseriptioas,  explanatory  of  Bcriptvxa 
.  toms,  and  manners,  which  oould  not  peestbiy  be  axplainad  by»  aay  alkar  modlam. 

The  numerous  engravings  throw  great  light  on  Oriental  customs."— Aionw. 

CALMETS  DICTIONARY  OF  THE  HOLY  BIBLE,  abridged,  l  large  voL  Imperial  gvv, 
Woodcuu  and  Maps  (pub.at  U.  4t.),  clotb,.lfa.  um 

CARYS  TESTIMONIES  OFTHE  FATHERS  OF  THE  FIRST  FOUR  CENTU- 
RIES, TO  THE  CONSTITUTION  AND  D0CTEINE8  OF  THE  CHURCH  OF 
JSNGLAND,  aa  sat  forth  in  the  XXXIX  Articles,  8vo  (pub.  at  13s.),  doth,  7<.  6d. 

Ojffitrd^  TUbojft. 
**  This  work  may  be  classed  with  those  of  Pearson  and  Biahop  Bull;  aad  such  a  clasalAca»> 
Uan  to  no  mean  lwnour."--CAHrch  q^  BngUmd  QHoHerljf, 

CHARNOCK'S  DISCOURSES  UPON  THE  EXISTENCE  AND  ATTRIBUTES 
OF  GOD.  Complete  in  1  thick  closely  printed  voL  Svo,  with  Portrait  (pub.  at  14k)» 
elotb,  6*.  8ii.        '^  '    *-  j,^ 

**  Perspicuity  and  depth,  metaphyelcal  sublimity  and  evangelical  stmpnelty,  Immense  laanK 
.tag  but  irrefkagabie  reasoning,  conspire  to  render  thU  performance  one  of  the  most  tnestlnuAle 
productious  that  ever  did  honour  to  the  sanctified  Judgment  and  genius  of  a  human  *"' —  " 


Digitized  by 


Google 


PITBWMIBB  on  SOLD  BT  H.  CJ.  BbHN*  S3 

'  "  '  "V 

CHINSVTiAN  EVIOENCCSi  Contaiidnir  fbe  toWowing  Mteemed  Treatises,  with  Prefktor^ 
Memoirs  by  the  Ber.  J. 8.  MkMSs,  L.L.D.  t1* -.—Watson's  Apologj  for  Christianity;  Watson's 
Apology  for  the  Bible;  Paley's  Evidences  of  Christianity;  Paley's  Horse  Paulina:;  Jenyn's 
Internal  Evidence  of  the  Christian  Reiiglm :  Leslie's  lYuth  of  Christianity  Demonstrated; 
Leslie's  Short  and  Easy  Method  with  the  Dsdats;  Leslie's  Short  and  Easy  Method  with  the 
Jews;  Chandler's  Plain  Reasons  for  beine  a  Christian:  Lyttleton  on  the  Conversion  of  St. 
Paal;  CaropbeH's  DlsserUtioB  on  Miracles;  Sheriock's  Trial  of  the  Witnesses,  with  Sequd; 
West  on  the  Besnrrection.    Ia  1  vol.  royal  Svo  (pub.  at  14«.),  oloth,  10*.  184S 

CHRISTIAN  TREASURY.  Consbtlng  of  the  following  Expositions  and  Treatbes,  Edited  by 
Memes,  vis:— Masee's  Discourses  and  Dissertations  on  the  Scriptural  Doetrlnesof  Atonement 
aiMi  Saeriflce;  Witberspoon's  Practical  Treatise  oil  Refeneratlon ;  Boston's  Crook  tn  the  Lot; 
Guild's  Moses  Unveiled;  Quild's  Harmony  of  ail  the  Propbeta;  Less's  Authenticity,  Un. 
corrupted  Preservation)  and  Credibility  or  the  New  Testament;  Stuart's  Letters  on  the 
Divinity  of  Christ.    In  1  vol.  royal  8vo  (pub.  at  13«. ),  cloth,  8«.  1844 

CRUOEN'S  CONGOROANCE  TO  THE  OLD  AND  NEW  TESTAMENT,  revised 
and  condensed  by  6.  H.  Haxxat,  thick  18mo,  beautlAUly  printed  (pub.  at  6t.),  cloth,  S».  6d.   ' 

**An  extremely  nretty  and  very  cheap  edition.    It  contains  all  that  la  useftil  in  the  original 
work,  omittinc  only  prmodtions,  coi^unctions,  ftc.  which  can  never  be  made  available  f«r 
•  purposes  of  reference,    indeed  it  Is  all  that  the  -Sciiptare  atndeiit  can  desire."— Gtiantim. 

FULLER'S  (REV:  ANDREW)  COMPLETE  WORKS;  with  a  Memoir  of  his  Life,  by  his 
Son,  1  large  vol.  imperial  8vo,  New  Sdition,  Portrait  (pub.  at  U.  10«.)>  jcloth,  IL  5s.  1845 

GREGORY'S  (DR.  OLINTHUS)  LETTERS  ON  THE  EVIDENCES*  DOCTRINES* 

AND  DUTIES  OF  THE  CHRISTIAN  RBLiaiON,  addressed  to  a  FHend.  Eighth  Bdlttonl 
with  many  Additions  and  Corrections.  Complete  in  1  thick  well -printed  vol.  fcap.  gvo  (pub. 
at  7«.  6d.),  cloth,  5*.  *  184« 

**  We  earnestly  recommend  this  work  to  the  attentive  perusal  of  all  oaltivated  minds.  We 
are  acquainted  with  no  book  ih  the  circle  of  English  Literature  which  Is  equally  calculated  to 
give  voung  persons  just  vlem  of  the  evidence,  the  nature,  and  the  iMpertaaee  of  revealed 
religion."— ieo6«rt  HelL 

QRAVES'S  (DEAN)  LECTURES  ON  THE  PENTATEUCH,  ara,  N««  Edition  (pvb, 
at  13».),  cloth,  »s.  1840 

HALL'S  (BISHOP)  ENTIRE  WORKS,  with  an  account  of  hU  Life  and  Sufferings.  New 
Edition,  with  condderable  Additions,  a  Translation  of  all  the  Latin  Pieces,  and  a  Glossary, 
Indices,  and  Notes,  by  the  £ev.  Pbteb,  Haxx,  12  rols.  8vo,  Portrait  (pub.  at  7/.  4«.),  cloth,  51. 

Ojr/brrf,  ro/6oy»,  1837-» 

HALL'S  (THE  REV.  ROBERT)  COMPLETE  WORKS,  with  a  Memoir  of  his  Lift,  by 
Br.  OUNTHUS  6REOOiiT,8nd  Observations  on  his  Character  as  a  Preacher,  by  John  Fosteiu 
Author  of  Essays  on  Popular  Ignorance,  Slc  6  vols.  Bvo,  handsomely  printed,  with  beautiAil 
Portrait  (pub.  at  SI.  16*. )•  cloth,  contenU  lettered,  U.  lis.  6d. 

The  same,  printed  in  a  smaller  size,  6  vols.  fcap.  8vo,  1^  1«.  cloth,  lettered. 

**  Whoever  wishes  to  see  the  English  Isngoage  in  Ifs  perfoction  must  read  the  writings  of  that 
great  Divine,  Robert  Hall.  He  combines  the  beauties  of  Johksov,  Addisov,  and  Burxe, 
without  their  Imperfectiona."— Dtura^d  Steioart, 

"  I  cannot  do  better  than  refer  the  acadenrfe  reader  to  the  Iramertal  works  of  Robert  Hall. 
For  moral  grandeur,  for  Christian  truth,  and  for  sublimity,  we  may  doubt  whether  they  have 
their  match  in  the  sacred  oratory  of  any  age  or  country."— /rq/irttor  Sedgtoiek. 

"  The  name  of  Robert  Hall  will  be  placed  by  posterity  amonir  the  best  writers  of  the  are,  as 
well  as  the  most  vigorous  defenders  of  religious  tnsth,  and.the  brightest  exanplea  of  Ohilsttaa 
eharity."— 5ir/i  ifoeMiKeiA. 

HENRY'S  (MATTHEW)  COMMENTARY  ON  THE  BIBLE,   by 
e  vols.  4to,  New  SdltioD,  pdnted  on  fine  paper  (pub.  at  9L  As.),  cloth,  St.  1 

HILL'S  (REV.  ROWLAND)  MEMOIRS,  by  his  Friend,  the  Rev.  W.  Joirss,  Edited,  with 
a  Preface,  by  the  Rev.  JiMsaa  Shbrmav  (^Rowz.akd  Hii.i/a  8 oc cesser  as  Minister  of  Surrev 
Chapel).  Second  Edition,  cavefoUy  revised,  thick  peat  8to,  ftne  Steal  Portrait  (pub.  at  10«.) 
cloth,  5*.  1848 

HOPKINS'S  (BISHOP)  WHOLE  WORKS>  with  a  memoir  of  the  AtithMr,.ia  i  thick  vol. 

royal  8vo  (pub.  at  isa.),  cloth,  14«.    The  same,  with  a  vary  exteaiiTe  general  Index  of  Texts 

and  Subjects,  2  vols,  royal  8vo  (pub.  at  U.  4a.),  cloth,  ISt.  1841 

**  Bishop  Hopkins's  works  form  of  themselvea  a  sooad  bedy  of  dtriiilty.    Eft  laciaar,  Teh»« 

aaent,  aadperanaaive."— fffirto>s<s<A. 

HOWE'S  WORKS,  with  Life,  by  Caaamt,  1  large  vol.  ImBarial  tro,  PorCnat  (ptdk.  si  II.  Ilsj. 

eleth,  1^  l«s.  im 

**  I  have  learned  fax  more  i^em  John  Howe  ttaan  from  any  other  snthor  I  ever  read.   n>ere 

Is  an  8st(Miishing  magnlfleenee  in  hia  coneeptlena.    He  was  nwinaetldnably  the  greatest  oi  the 

poriUu  diviBes?'>-Ao6«r«  EaU. 

HUNTINGDON'S  (COUNTESS  OF)  UFE  AND  TIMES  ByaMemberofth^HouMa 
of  Shiviey  and  HsstlDgas.  Statth  Thonsu&d,  with  a  coplorts  Index.  2  large  vols.  8vo,  Portralta 
of  the  Coantsss,  WUteOeld,  and  Weeley  (pwb.  at  U.  4s. ),  cloth,  14s.  1844 

HUNTINGDON'S  (REV.  W.)  WORKS,  Edited  by  hU  Son,  <  vols.  8vo,  Portraits  and  Platea 
(pub.  at  3^.  18«.  6d.),  cloth,  2L  U, 

'  LEIQHTON'S  (ARCHBISHOP)  WHOLE  WORKS;  to  wh'^'h  Is  prefixed  a  Ufe  of  the 
Author,  hv  the  Rev.  N.  T.  Pearsok.  New  Edition,  3  thick  vols.  8vo,  Portrait  (pitkb  ft  U.  4«.  1 
extra  cloth,  16«.    The  only  complete  Edition.  ^  ,       IM* 

Digitized  byVjOOQlC 


BiCKXKBTETH. 
ISkW.  1 


t4  CATALOGUE  OF  HEW  BOOKS 

LEIQHTON9  COMMENTARY ^ON  PETER:  with  !».  by  Psaxmv,  complete  fa  i 
thick  handMnely  printed  vol.  tvo,  Portrait  (pub.  aft  Mfc),  doth,  te.  1S4» 

LIVES  OF  THE  ENGUSH  SAINTS.  Bj  the  Est.  j.  H.  Nkwxav  ud'otkots,  U  ^is. 
Umo(piib.attLSfc),ee«edlaonianentedeovera,  itl*.  UH-* 

M'CRIE'S  UFE  OF  JOHN  KNOX,  with  lUvatntieai  ef  ae  Hletorr  of  the  Refermatiab  ia 
Scotland.  New  Edition  vMi  nunerotta  Addittoaa,  aod  a  MeBotr,  he.  bjr  Ambmkw  CsievTo x. 
Fcap.  KTO  (pvb.  at  S«. ),  cloth,  Zt.  td,  1M7 

MAGEES  (ARCHBISHOP)  WORKSi  e(»pri«lnf  Dlieovnea  and  DiaaeitatieM  on  the 
Rcriptora]  Doctrines  of  Atonement  and  BacrtAce:  Senaona,  and  Vlalution  Cbargea.  With  a 
Memirfr  ofhla  Life,  by  the  Bev.  A.  H.  Kskitt,  D.D.    I  vols.  Sro  (pub.  at  IZ.  6«. ),  cloth,  lb. 

"DlaeoTen  svch  deep  reeeareh,  ytelda  so  much  Talnahle  infbrmatton,  and  afforda  so  many 
helps  to  the  refbtatlon  of  error,  as  to  constknte  the  most  Taluable  tteaaure  of  Ublical  leanitns, 
of  which  a  Christian  scholar  can  be  possessed.'*— C«ru<ian  Obtener. 

MORES  (HANNAH)  LIFE,  by  the  Rcr.  Hbihit  Thoxsov,  poet  Sro,  printed  tmifomly 
vith  her  works.  Portrait,  andWood  Bngravlnts  (pub.  at  13a.},  extra  cloth,  6«.  Gnlett,  IKM 
*«  This  may  be  called  the  oflldal  edition  of  Hannah  More'a  Ufe.  It  bringa  so  much  new  as  I 
Inteicatlnff  matter  into  the  Held  respectlna  her,  that  it  will  receive  a  hear^  welcome  from  the 
public.  Among  the  rest,  the  partteulan  ormoet  of  her  pobUeatiOBB  will  reward  the  curiosity 
of  literary  readers."— Xiferory  GmgttU. 

MORES  (HANNAH)  SPIRIT  OF  PRAYER,  fci9.»ra,  Portrait  (pub.  at 6«.), cloth,  4f. 


MORE-S   (HANNAH)    STORIES   FOR   THE   MIDDLE    RANKS  OF  SOCIETY, 

and  Tales  for  the  Common  People,  3  vols,  poet  Svo  (pub.  at  14i.),  cloth,  9«.  Cteirtf,  1890 

MORE'S  (HANNAH)  POETICAL  WORKS,  post »vo  (pub.  at  Sh),  cloth,  O.Cd. 

GnlfU,  ItM 

MORE'S  (HANNAH)  MORAL  SKETCHES  OF  PREVAfUNG  OPINIO^IS  AND 
MANNEES,  Foreifpi  and  Domestic,  with  Beflectlona  on  Prayer,  poet  Bvo  (pub.  at  at.), 
cloth,*..  *^CWf«,M» 

MORE'S  (HANNAH)  ESSAY  ON  THE  CHARACTER  AND  PRACTICAL 
WBITIM08  OF  ST.  PAUL,  post  Svo  (pub.  at  lOf.  6d.),  cloth,  St.  Cadelt^tSt 

MORE'S  (HANNAH)  CHRISTIAN  MORALS.    Poet  tvo  (pub.  at  lte.6d.},  doth,  Ss. 

Cadetl,  1836 

MORE'S  (HANNAH)  PRACTICAL  PIETY;  Or,  the  Influence  of  the  Bellgion  of  the 
Heart  on  tlie  Conduct  of  the  Life,  83mo,  Portrait,  cloth,  3t.  6d.  I8M 

The  only  complete  small  edition.    It  was  revised  lust  before  her  death,  and  cont^os  much 
improvement,  which  is  copyright. 

MORE'S  (HANNAH)  SACRED  DRAMAS,  chiefly  intended  for  Young  People,  to  which  Is 
added  " SensIbUity,"  an  Epistle,  32mo  (pub.  aiU.6d.),gnt  cloth,  gilt  ed^,  2*.  »3o 

This  Is  the  last  genuine  edition,  and  contains  some  copyright  editions,  which  are  not  in  any 
other. 

MORE'S  (HANNAH)  SEARCH  AFTER  HAPPINESS;  with  BaUada,  Tales, HTmnt. 
and  Epitaphs,  S2mo  (pub.  at  2«.  ed. ),  gilt  cloth,  gilt  edges,  1«.  6d.  lUO, 

NEFF  (FELIX)  LIFE  AND  LETTERS  OF,  translated  firom  the  French  of  M.  Bost,  br 
M.  A.  W YATT,  fcap.  Svo,  Portrait  ( pub.  at  6«. ) ,  cloth,  3«.  6d.    .  IStt 

PALEY'S  WORKS,  in  l  vol.  consisting  of  his  Natural  Theology,  Moral  and  Political  Phllosophr, 
Evidences  of  Christianity,  Horse  Paulinae,  Clergyman's  Companion  in  Visiting  the  Sick,  &c. 
Svo,  handsomely  printed  in  double  columns  (pub.  at  19$.  6cL),  cloth,  U.  IH9 

PALEY*S  COMPLETE  WORKS,  with  a  Biographical  Sketch  of  the  Author,  by  Rsr.  D.  S. 
Waxlavs,  8  vols.  Svo  (pub.  at  1^  Ibt.),  cloth,  18«.  1837 

PASCAL'S  THOUGHTS  ON  RELIGION,  and  Adam's  Private  Thonghta  on  BeligioD, 
edited  by  the  Bnv.  £.  Bicxxkbtsth,  fcap.  Svo  (pub.  at  5«.),  cloth,  it.  9d.  1847 

PICTORIAL  DICTIONARY  OF  THE  HOLY  BIBLE,  Or,  a  Cyelopsedla  of  Illustrations, 
Graphic,  Historical,  and  Descriptive  of  the  Sacred  Writings,  by  reference  to  the  Manners, 
Customiu  Bites.  Traditions,  Antiquities,  and  Literature  of  Eastern  Nations,  2  vols.  4to  (up- 
wards of  1430  double  column  pages  in  good  type),  with  upwards  of  1000  illnstratiTe  Woodcuu 
(pub.  21. 10«.),  extra  cloth,  1/.  it.  i^ 

^?TTrS  ^SP-  THOMAS)  COMMENTARY  ON  THE  BIBLE,  with  the  Author'^ 
last  Correenons  and  Improvements,  and  84  beantlAil  Woodcut  lUustrationa  and  Mans.  S  vols. 
Imperial  Svo  (pub.  at  4/.  4i.),  cloth,  IL  16*.  jgg^ 

SIMEON'S  WORKS,  Including  hU  Skeletons  of  Sermons  and  Hone  HomiletieR,  or  Diseounes 
digested  into  one  contlnned  Series,  and  forming  a  Commentary  upon  every  Bo<A  of  the  Old 
and  New  Testament;  to  which  are  anneifed  an  improved  edition  of  Claude's  Essar  on  the 
Composition  or  a  Sennon,  and  very  comprehensive  Indexes,  edited  by  the  Rev.  Thomas 
Hahtwxll  Hoxks,  21  vols.  Svo  (nuH.  at  KM.  10«.),  eloth,  tLrl 


y  Google 


PUBLISHED  OB  SOLD  BT  H.  &.  BOHN.  2S 

ThifoUoming  wdniatwn  editimu  itf  SkmemCtjoofiiUmr  work*  mt  tmifcrnU^  printed  in  Stno,  mud 

THE  CIIIHSTIAN'S  ARMOUB,  9d. 
'  THE  EXCELLENCY  OF  THE  LITUROT,  90. 
THE  OFFICES  OF  THE  HOLY  SPIRIT,  Qrf. 
'     HUMILIATION  OFTHE  SON  OF  GOD:  TWELVE  SERMONS,  9<f. 
APPEAL  TO  MEN  OF  WISDOM  AND  CANDOUR,  9d. 
DISCOURSES  ON  BEHALF  OF  THE  JEWS,  1«.  6d. 
- '     **The  vorks  of  Simeon,  containing  2536  discounM  on  the  principal  passages  of  the  Old  and 
New  Testament  will  be  found  peculiarly  adapted  to  assist  tne  studies  of  the  ju>unger  clergy  iH 
their  preparation  for  the  pulpit;  they  will  likewise  serve  as  a  Body  of  Diltiity:  and  are  by 
many  recommended  as  a  Biblical  Commentary,  well  adapted  to  be  read  in  fomilies.*'— -Xoiifluir*. 

SMYTH'S  (REV.    DR.)    EXPOSITION    OF    VARIOUS    PASSAGES    OF    HOLt 

SCRIPTURE,  adapted  to  the  Use  of  Families,  for  cTcrrDay  throughout  the  Year,  3  vols.  8vo 
(pub.  at  U.  11«.  M,  h  cloth,  9t.  1842 

SOUTH'S  (DR.  ROBERT)  SERMONS:  to  which  are  annexed  the  chief  heads  of  the 
Sermons,  a  Biographical  Memoir,  and  General  Index.  2  toIs.  royal  8vo  (pub.  at  1/.  4«.), 
cloth,  18«.  UU 

STEBBING'S  HISTORY  OF  THE  CHURCH  OF  CHRIST,  ftom  the  Diet  of  Augsburg. 
IS30,  to  the  present  Century,  3  vols.  8vo  (pub.  at  U.  16«.),  cloth,  12«.  1839 

STURM'S      MORNING     COMMUNING     WITH     GOD,     OR      DEVOTIONAL 

MEDITATIONS  FOR  EVERY  DAY  IN  THE  YEAR,  translated  from  the  German.  New 
Edition,  post  8T0,  cloth,  it.  1847 

TAYUOR'S  (JEREMY)  COMPLETE  WORKS,  with  an  Essay,  Biographical  and  CriUc«I« 
S  fairge  TOls.  imperial  8vo,  Portrait  (pub.  at  S^.  Us.),  cloth,  3/.  S«.  1838 

TAYLORS  (ISAAC  OF  ONGAR)  NATURAL  HISTORY  OF  ENTHUSIASM. 
Tenth  Edition,  fcap.  8vo,  cloth,  &t.  1845 

**  It  is  refreshing  to  us  to  meet  with  a  work  bearing,  as  this  unquestionably  does,  the  impress 
,ef  bold,  powerful,  and  original  thought.  Its  most  strikingly  original  views,  however,  never 
Cransgreiss  tbe  bounds  of  pure  Protestant  orthodoxy,  or  violate  the  spirit  of  truth  and  sober- 
ness:  and  yet  it  dlscussA  topics  constituting  the  very  root  and  basis  of  those  ftirioua  polemics 
which  have  shaken  repeatedly  the  whole  intellectual  and  moral  yioTld."—Atheiunam. 

TAYLOR'S  (ISAAC)  FANATICISM.  Third  Edition,  cweAilly  revised.  Fcap,  8vo,  cloth,  6<. 

1843 
*'  It  is  the  reader's  fault  if  he  does  not  rise  firom  the  perusal  of  such  a  volume  as  the  present 
a  Hiser  and  a  better  rcuin."— Eclectic  Review. 

TAYLOR'S  (ISAAC)  SATURDAY  EVENING.    Seventh  Edition.   Fcap.  8vo.  cloth,  5«. 

1844 

** '  Saturday  Eveaing,'  and  *  Natural  History  of  Enthusiasm,'  are  two  noble  productions."— 
BlackwooiPs  Magcumu, 

TAYLOR'S  (ISAAC)  ELEMENTS  OF  THOUGHT,  or  concise  Explanations,  alphabet!- 

eally  arranged,  of  the  principal  Terms  employed  Jn  the  usual  Branches  of  Intellectual  Philo.- 

.  Bophy.    Ninth  Edition.    12mo,  cloth,  4*.  1848 

TAYLORS  (ISAAC)  ANCIENT  CHRISTIANITY,  AND  THE  DOCTRINES  OP  THE 
OXFORD  "TRACTS  FOR  THE  TIMES."  Fourtii  Edition,  with  a  Supplement  and 
Indexes.    S  vols.  8vo  (pub.  at  \l.  4«.),  cloth,  18t.  1844 

TAYLOR  S  (ISAAC)  LECTURES  ON  SPIRITUAL  CHRISTIANITY.    8vo  (pub.  at 

4<.  M.j,  cloth,  3«.  1841 

TOMLINES  (BISHOP)  ELEMENTS  OF  CHRISTIAN  THEOLOGY,  Fourteenth 
Edition,  with  additional  Notes  and  Summary,  by  Sxxbbiiig.  3  vols.  8vo,  cloth,  lettered  (pub. 
at  U,  l«.),  io<.  fid. 

TOMLINES   (BISHOP)   INTRODUCTION  TO  THE  STUDY  OF  THE  BIBLE. 

OR  ELEMENTS  OF  CHRISTIAN  THEOLOGY.  Containing  Prooh  of  the  AuUieuticitr 
and  Inspiration  of  the  Holy  Scriptures;  a  Summary  of  the  History  of  the  Jews;  an  Account  of 
the  Jewish  Sects;  and  a  brief  Statement  of  the  Contents  of  the  several  Books  of  the  Old  and 
New  Testaments.  Nineteenth  Edition,  elegantly  printed  on  fine  paper.  12mo,  (pub.  at  5«.  6tL), 
cloth,  3«.  6</.  1845 

"Well  adapted  as  a  manual  for  students  in  divinity,  and  may  be  read  with  advantage  by  the 
most  experienced  divine."— ^ar*A'<  Lectures. 

WADDINGTONS    (DEAN    OF    DURHAM)    HISTORY     OF    THE     CHURCH, 

FROM  THE  EARLIEST  AGES  TO  THE  REFORMATION.  3  vols.  8vo  (pub.  at  1^.  IM.), 
cloth  boards,  \l.  It. 

WADDINGTONS  (DEAN  OF  DURHAM)  HISTORY  OF  THE  CHURCH, 
DURING  THE  REFORMATION.    3  vols.  Svo  (pub.  at  1^.  n«.  6<i.),  cloth  boards,  18*.     1841 

BERFORCE'S  PRACTICAL  VIEW  OF  CHRISTIANITY.    With  a  comprehensive 

'smolr  or  the  Author,  by  the  Ray.  T.  Pkicb,  ISmo.  printed  in  a  large  handsome  type  (pub.  at 

,  .0..^  gilt  cloth,  2..  6d.  .      .    '  '  •  '    184J 

WILLMOTTS  (R.  A.)  PICTURES  OF  CHRISTIAN  UFE.  Jc»p.  •»•  (pub.ata..). 
eloth,  21.  6tf.  H^tekmdt  U41 


*'VS 


Digitized  by 


Google 


okTAJjOQum  inp  mvw 


Jlporeign  Hanguag^s  ami  literature; 

mcMmiwo 

CLASSICS    AND    TRANSLATIONS,    CLASSICAL    CBITICISM,    DICTION. 

ARIES,  GRAMMARS,  COLLEOS  AND  SCHOOL  BOOKS. 


ATLASES.—WILKINSON'S  CLASSICAL  AND  SCRIPTURAL  ATLAS,  «ith  Histo. 
rical  and  CliBnologlaU  Tables,  impwrUU  4to,  Vtm  juH  Liipravad  EditJoo,  iS  maps,  coioured 
(pub.  at  IL  4t.).  half  bouaa  inorocao,  U.  11*.  Cd.  ISti 

WILKINSON'S  GENERAL  ATLAS.  N«w  aod  Inmovad  SdltloB,  with  «n  tfa*  lUthwda 
iMcrtcdf  Popolatton  aceordlng  to  th«  lait  C«iua«,  FkxUamuttatj  BatiuiM,  fcc  iaip«lal  Ito, 
M  Maps,  colonxad  (pab.  at  IL  16t.),  half  bound  morocco,  IL  As.  UiS 

AINSWORTH'S  LATIN  DICTIONARY,  byDr.  Jahzmok,  u  mlaiMdBdIttoB,  c 
ins  all  the  words  of  ths  auaxto  Dictionary,    lldok  stq,  naaUy  boand  (pub.  at  14s.),  0s. 

BENTLEY*S  (RICHARD)  WORKS.  Containing  Dissertations  npon  the  EpIsUea  ofPhalatis, 
Thembtocles,  Socrataa,  Enrlpidea,  and  tlw  Fables  of  iBsopj  JSplstola  ad  Jo.  Milllum;  Ser- 
mons; Iloyle  Lecture;  Bemarks  on  Proe-thliydng;  Critica]  Works,  ftc  Edttted,  with  copious 
Indices  and  Notes,  br  the  Rev.  Albxavdhb  Drcx.  3  Tola.  Svo ;  a  beauttfbUy  printed  Eaition 
(pab.atlL18t.),oloth,  iLls.  Uafr4t 

BIBLIA  HEBRAICA,  EX  EDITIONE  VANDER  HOOGHT.  BeeasnoTft  J.  D.  Aim- 
XAVJ>.  Very  thick  8vo,  handsomely  printed  (pub.  at  1^  S*.),  cloth,  1(te.  id.    Loud,  Dtmeait,  iSjO 

BIOGRAPHIE  UNIVERSELLE,  Ancienne  et  Modeme.  Moavelle  Edition,  reToe,  conlgte  et 
augment^e  par  une  6oci6t4  de  Gens  de  Lettres  et  de  Savants.  31  toIs.  imperial  8vo  (printed  in 
»  conoireasad  masoar  In  doable  columns,  but  my  clear  ^ype),  sewed  (pub.  at  lOL  lOr.),  Si.  it. 

BnuittUt,  ^t»-47 

BOURNE'S  (VINCENT)  POETICAL  WORKS,  Latin  «nd  BngUah,  Umo  (pnb.  atSs.  «d.), 

eloth,2«.M.  183» 

———«—.—  tha  am»,  laiia  p^>0r,  aa  alsgaBt  Tolnma,  Umo  (pub.  at  8«.),  cloth.  Si.  6tf.       U38 

CICERO'S    UFE,    FAMIUAR    LETTERS,     PiND     LETTERS     TO     ATTICUS, 

by  MtnsLKToy,  Mblmotk,  aod  Usbbkdbii,  oompleteln  one  thick  «d.  xoysl  Svo,  pactrait, 
(pub.  at  1/.  4«.),  cloth,  12«.  1848 

COirPUS  POETARUM  LATTNORUM.  EdMlt  0. 6.  Walksb.  Complete  In  1  Teiy  thick 
vol.  royal  8vo  (pub.  at  21.  2<.),  cloth,  18«. 

Tills  comprehensive  volmne  contains  a  Ubnzy  of  the  poattoal  Latin  daasiea,  coneedj 
printed  from  the  best  texts,  viz: — 
Catullus,  VIrxil,  Lwean,  Balplela,  CalpurnlusJSIcnItu, 

Tlhullus,  Ovid,  Perslns.  Stauus.  Ausonius, 

Propertius,  Horace,  Juvenal  Sllius  Italicns,  Claudian. 

Lucretius,  Phtadxaa,  Martial,  Valerius  Flaceus, 

DAWMII  LEXICON  GR>ECUM,  HOIVtERtCUM  ET  PINDARICUM.   CnraDirxcAx. 

"--  ''^'" '-*  -"  ~  ' '—^   -"  "   -  *    -'-"•i,  II.  1«.  18«8 

r  acknowladced  by  Utetazy 


tyal  4to,  New  Edition,  printed  on  fine  paper  (pub.  at  5^  5«.),  cloth,  I^  l«.  istt 

**  An  excellent  work :  the  mtzits  of  which  have  been  anlversaUy  acta 


characters."— Dr.  Sibdm. 

DEMOSTHENES,  translated  by  Lblahs,  the  two  toIs.  8to.  eomiflete  In  1  vol.  l2mo,  hand- 
somely printed  In  double  columns,  la  peatl  type,  poitrailt  (ptib.  at  Ss,),  doth,  Ss. 

DONNEGAN'S  GREEK  AND  ENGUSH  LEXICON,  enlarged;  with  examples,  literally 
tnuwUted,  selected  from  the  elsssfaul  anthors.  PcurBi  edition,  oomdderably  enlaised,  eare- 
fbUy  i^vlsed,  and  matatlaUy  improved  tluouffaonti  thick  aro  .(17S2  pases)  (pub.  U2Lu.), 
cloth,  IL  U.  1(45 

GAELIC-EMGLISH  AND  ENGLtSlfGAEUC  DICTKSNARY,  wMi  Examples,  Phrases, 
and  Etymcriogical  Remarks,  bv  two  Members  of  the  Hltrhland  Society.    Complete  In  1  thick 


vpl.«vo.    New  Edition,  containing  many  more  words  than  the  ito  Edition  (pub.  at  IL  U.), 
cloth,  lOi.  fid.  1845 

GRAGLIAS  ITALIAN-ENQUSH  AND  ENGLISH-ITALIAN  DICTIONARY,  with  a 

compendious  Italiaa  Qrammar  and  Supplementary  Dictionary  of  NavAl  Terms,  18mo,  roan 
(pub.  at  8«.),  4f.  (W.  18« 

HERMANN'S   MANUAL  OF  THE  POLITICAL  ANinQUmES  OF  GREECE, 

Historically  considered,  translated  from  the  Oerman,  Svo  (pub.  at  Us.),  cloth,  10*.  6d. 

"Hermann's  Manual  of  Greek  Antiquities  Is  most  Important.'*— 7IUKiMSr*£Pu(.  qfGretee, 
TOL  i.  p.  443. 

HERODOTUS,   CARTS   (REV.   MJ    GREEK    AND    ENGUSH    LEXICOiN    TO 

HERODOTUS,  adapted  to  the  Text  of  Oaisford  and  Baahr,  and  aU  other  Editleaa* «««!.  ckelh 
(pub.  at  Ut.),  8c. 

LEMPRIERE'S  CLASSICAL  DICTIONARY.  Miniature  Edition,  eontalnlBg a follAewni 
of  all  the  Proper  Names  mentioned  In  Ancient  Authors,  and  muc^i  useful  information  ratjMt- 
Ins  the  uses  and  habits  of  the  Greeks  and  Romsns.  New  snd  complete  Edition,  eleHUtly 
printed  in  pearl  type,  in  1  very  thick  vol.  18mo  (pub.  at  7».  6d.),  cloth,  U.  6d.  ^Wi 


joogle 


PUBLISOVD  OR  QOhJ}  B7  H.  G.  BOHN.  27 

LEE'S  HEBREW  GRAMMAR,  eompUed  f^m  th«  b«st  Avtliorittes.  and  prfnolpally  flmm 
Oriental  Sources,  designed  for  the  use  of  StudcDU  In  the  Ujilvenities.  New  Edition,  enriched 
.with  much  original  mntter.    Sixth  Thontaad,  8to  (pub.  at  12*.)»  cloth,  St.    Ltmd.  IMacmtt  1840 

LEE'S  HEBREW,  OHALDEE,  AND  ENGLISH  L^ICON.  Compiled  M>m  the  beat 
▲utboritiei.  Oriental  and  Buropeaa,  Jewish  and  Clirbttan,  including  B^xtorp,  Taylor, 
Parxjivrst,  and  Obsbvivs;  containing  all  the  Words,  with  their  Inflections,  Idiomatic 
Usages,  &c.  foand  in  the  Hebrew  and  Chaldee  Text  of  the  Old  Testament;  with  numerous 
corrections  of  former  Lexicographers  -and  Commentators,  followed  bjr  an  EnjgUsh  Index,  in  1 
thick  vol.  8T0.    Third  Thousand  (pub.  at  U,  5«.),  cloth,  15«.  Lendont  1844 

LEVERETTS  LATIN-ENGUSH  AND  ENGLISH-LATIN  LEXIOONj  compBed  iirom 
Pacciolati  and  Schbixbr.    Thick  royal  8vo  (pub.  at  IL  lU.  fid.),  cloth,  U, Ss.  1847 

LIVII     HiSTORIA,     EX     RECENSIONE     DRAKENBORCHll     ET     KREYSSIG;! 

Et  Annotationea  Crbvibbii,  Strothii,  Rupbrti,  etaliorum:  AnimadversionesNiBBUHRU, 
WACMSMVTHU,  et  suas  addidlt  Travbrs  Twiss,  J.  C.  B.  Coll.  Univ.  Oxon.  Socius  et  Tutor.- 
0«m  ladice  ampllseimo,  4  vols.  Svo  (pub.  at  U.  18s.),  eloth,  U.  8«.  Ojtford,  1841 

This  is  the  best  and  most  usefbl  edition  of  Livy  ever  published  in  octavo,  and  it  is  prefbrred 
laAll  out  univecaltiesaBd  clasalcal  aehools. 

LIVY.  Edited  by  PliBHDBvn.i.B.  Livli  Historise  Ilbrl  qnlnqne  piions,  iritli  EnfUsh  Netes,! 
by  Prbki>bvilx.s.    New  Editioa,  12bm>,  neatly  bound  in  rMn,  St.  ISifi 

—  the  same,  Books  I  to  III,  separately,  cloth,  3u  td. 

theaamn, Books  IT  and  Y,  cloth,  as.  Sd. 

NEWMAN'S  PRACTICAL  SYSTEM  OF  RHETORIC;  or,  the  PrtaielplM  and  Butas  of 
Style,  with  Examplea.    Sixth  Edition,  Ubo( pub.  at  5«.«d.),£loth,  4s.  1846  ■ 

NIEBUHR'S  HISTORY  OF  ROME,  epitomised  (for  the  use  of  coUeces  and  schools),  with • 
Chronological  Tables  and  Appendix,  by  Tbatrrs  Twias,  B.O.IX  complete  in  2  vols,  bound  in ' 

I,  Svo  (pub.  at  1^  Is.),  cloth,  lOs.  6(1.  O^rri,  7Vi/toyt,  1837 
*<  This  edition  by  Mr.  Twiss  is  a  very  valuable  addition  to  classical  learning,  clearly  and  ably 

embodying  all  the  latest  efforts  of  the  laborious  Nlabnhn,"— JU/smry  GtuttUe, 

OXFORD  CHRONOLOGICAL  TABLES  OF  UNIVERSAL  HISTORY,  from  the 
earliest  Period  to  the  present  Time;  In  which  all  the  great  Events,  Civil,  Religious,  Si^ntific,. 
and  Literary,  of  the  various  Nations  of  the  World  are  placed,  at  one  view,  under  the  eye  of  the 
Reader  in  a  Series  of  parallel  columns,  so  as  to  exhibit  the  state  of  the  whole  Civilized  World 
at  any  epoch,  and  at  the  same  time  form  a  continuous  chain  of  History,  with  Geneslogical 
Tables  of  all  the  principal  Dynasties.    Complete  in  3  Sections;    viz:— 1.  Ancient  Historr. 

II.  Middle  Ages.  III.  Modem  History.  With  a  most  complete  Index  to  (he  entfxe  work, 
folio  (ppb.  alU.  16*.),  hal/bound  morooco,  \U  is. 

The  above  is  also  sold  separately,  as  follows  :— 

THE  MIDDLE  AGES  AND  MODERN  HISTORY,  3  parts  in  1,  folio  (pub.  at  11. 2f.  6d.)t 

sewed,  iss. 
MODERN  HISTORY,  foUo  (pah.  ailK.),  sewed,  t»^ 

PLUTARCH'S  LIVES,  by  the  LAveHORHBS.  Complete  in  1  thielt  vol.  8vo  (pnb.  at  lb.), 
ehilh,  U.  6d. 

RAMSHORN'S  DICTIONARY  OF  LATIN  SYNONYMES,  for  the  Use  of  Schools  and 
Private  Studentn^  Translated  and  Edited  by  Dr.  Libbbx.  Post  Svo  (pub.  at  7*.),  cloth*  4s.  6<f. 

1841 

AnTER'S  HISTORY  OF  ANCIENT  PH»U090PHY,  tmnslated  fh>m  the  German,  by 
A.  J.  W.  MoRRisov,  BJL  Trtoity  College,  Cambridge..  4  vela.  Svo,  now  completed,  with  a 
General  I  ndex,  cloth,  lettesed  ( pnb.  at  Zt.  4a.),  31. 3«.  Od'brd,  1846 

The  Fourth  Volume  may  be  had  separately.    Cloth,  16* 

**  An  imporunt  work:  itmnr  be  said  to  have  snperseded  all  the  prevlons  histories  of  philo- 
sophy, and  to  have  become  the  standard  work  on  the  subject.  Mr.  Johnson  is  also  exempt 
from  the  usual  fhulta  of  traaalators."— OitasMrty  fUvma,' 

SCMOM ANN'S   HISTORY    OF    THE    AS8EMBUES    OF   THE    ATHENIANS. 

translated  from  the  Latin,  with  a  complete  Index,  8vo  (pub.  at  10s.  6d.),  cloth,  5*.      C^mi6. 1838 
A  book  of.the  same  aebool  and  eharaeter  aa  the  werita  of  Hxbrbv*  Bobchx,  Schx.b«bi.,  ftc. 

ELLENDTS  GREEK' AND  ENGLISH  LEXICON  TO  SOPHOCLES,  translated  by 
Cart.    Svo  (pub.  attSs.),  cloth,  6«.  6d.  Ojtffmt^  ftiboyt^  1841 

STUARTS  HEBREW  OHRE8TOMATI«T,  dMifMdaa  aa  IntrodoetlDD  to  a  Conrsa  of 
Hebrew  Study.   Third  Edition,  8v*  (pub.  at  l4e.V  ....... 


This  work,  which  was  designed  by  iu  learned  author  to  facilitate  the  study  of  Hebrew,  has 
JiMi  n  very  extsaaive  sale  in  America.    It  forms  a  deahable  adinnct  to  all  Heiirer  " 
and  is  sufficient  to  complete  the  system  of  inatroctlon  in  that  language. 


TACITU%  CUM  NOTIS  BROTIERt,  OURM<TE  A.  J.  VALPY. 
Appewiuw..  4  vols.  Svo  (pvb.  at  3/.  I6s* ),  cloth.  M.  &• . 

The  moat  complete  Bditfoa. 

TACITUS,  A  NEW  AND  LITERAL  TRANSI  A^ION.  sto  (pnb.  at  tos.),  cloth,  lOi.  fd. 
^  OVhrd,  7W6Dys,  ISSk 


Digitized  by 


Google 


M  CATALOGCTE  OF  NEW  BOOKS 


TSNNCMANNV  MANUAL  OF  THE  HISTORY  OF  PHILOSOPHY.  tnuBiMlftM 
tlM  Omnum,  to  Um  R**.  Abthvb  JoHvaoir,  MA.  P*»teMn-  of  Anglo-lMUHi  in  Um  UnHcnlrr 
of  Oxford.    U  1  thick  eloMly  pitatod  vol.  Sto  (pub.  at  !«•.),  bouiU,  9k     Oatfltri,  Tmtba^t^  l«» 

**A  WMfk  «Meh  Bwrlueotall  th*  loUlnr  •poehs  la  ohlloaoplur, 
flcal  tnfonnatloa  coneornlas  Uimb,  with  blograpUcal  nottoas  oTtfca 
tha  principal  aehooU,  aropia  taxtt  of  thafar  worka,  and  au  account  of  tha  pilneipal  editloBa. 
a  word,  to  the  atudent  of  phllotophy,  I  know  of  no  work  In  £nff liah  Ukaur  to  proTe  half  ao 
tal."^HtifwM,  in  Uf  Trmmtlmtwm  </  GoHkt't  Am«<. 


Iboadcn  and  falloaran  of 
account  of  tha  prineipal  editloBa.  In 
In  BnfUah  Ukaly  to  proTe  half  ao  aa«- 

TERENTIUS,  CUM  NOTtS  VARIORUM.  CURA  ZEUNII.  eura  Giua;  aeead.  lodax 
eoploaiBalmua.    Complata  tnl  thick  vol.  Ivo  (pub.  at  U«.),  cloth,  It.  tSK 

TURNER'S  (DAWSON  W.)  NOTES  TO  HER00OTUS»  fin  tha  U»  of  CoIlas« 
Studcnti.   tro,  doth,  llfc  lUt 

VALPrS  GREEK  TESTAMENT.  WITH  ENQUSH  NOTES,  aoeompanM  b;  paraDel 
pauacaa  from  tha  Claaaiea.    Fifth  Edition,  S  vola.  tro,  with  t  mapa  (p«h.  at «.),  clotk,  li.  &«. 

1S47 

VIRGIL.  EDWARDS9  SCHOOL  EDITION.    Vbgua  JBneia,  enra  Si>irABPa,et  aaosti. 
onea  VfagfUanK,  or  Notaa  and  Oaaitlona,  adapted  to  ihaiaiddla  fbnna  hn  B^oola,  t  vols.  la  1, 
Mmo,  bound  la  cloth  (pub.  at  6«.  ed.),  Si. 
•••  Either  tha  Text  or  auaationi  may  be  had  lepamtaly  (pub.  at  St.  M.),  1>.  ad. 

WILSON'S  (JAMES,  PROFESSOR  OF  FRENCH  IN  ST.  GREGORYS  COLLEGE) 
FRENCH-ENOL18H  AND  ENGLISH-FRENCH  DICTIONARY,  eoataininff  full  Bxpla- 
natlona,  Deflnitlona,  Synonyma,  Idloma.  Proverbs,  Terma  of  Art  and  Bdenee,  and  RalA  of 
Pronunciation  In  each  Languace.  Cob  piled  (h>m  the  Dlctionartea  of  the  Academy.  Bowtbr, 
Ckambavd,  OAMTBa,  Lavbauz,  Daa  Cauubkb8  auu  Faiv,  JoHvaoK  and  Waucxb.  i 
large  eloacly  printed  vol.  Imperial  Svo  (pub.  at  V.  to.) ,  cloth,  I/,  ti.  X84i 

XCNOPHONT1S  OPERA,  GR.  ET  LAT.  SCHNEIDERI  ET  ZEUNII,  Aecedit  Index 

iponaov  and  BLicaLBT'a  Edition),  10  Tola.  ISmo,  handsomely  printed  In  a  laige  type,  done  up 
ft  »  Tola.  (pub.  at  U,  Ite.),  doth,  lb.  tttt 

«  Tha  lame,  large  paper,  10  toIs.  cvovn  8to,  done  up  In  5  vols,  cloth,  U.  Ss. 

XENOPHON'S  WHOLE  WORKS,  translated  by  SrsucAir  and  othara.  Tha  oBlymii^lato 

EdltlOB,  i  thick  ToL  tvo,  portrait  (pub.  at  1&«.),  doth,  lo^ 


iSobels,  VSioTk%  of  ;ffitUon^  %i^t  IfUatttos, 


AINSWORTH'S  WINDSOR  CASTLE.  An  Historical  Romanea,  niustimtcd  by  Gkobob 
CBViKaHAVK  and  Tovt  Johavbox.  Medium  Sto,  fine  PortnOt,  and  105  Steal  and  Wood 
Engravings,  gUt,  cloth,  St.  IMS 

BREMER'S  (MISS)  HOME:  OR,  FAMILY  CARES  AND  FAMILY  JOYS, tranalatad by 
Mary  Howm.    Second  Edition,  revised,  t  vols,  post  Ovo  (pub.  at  li.  l«.),  doth,  ?«.  Sd.     isa 

THE  NEIGHBOURS,    A    STORY    OF    EVERY    DAY    LIFE.     TVandated    by    XAmr 
Howm.    Third  Edition,  revised.    2  toIs.  poet  Ovo  (pub.  at  IS*.),  cloth,  7«.  6d.  IMS 

f  RUIKSHANK  "  AT  HOME ;"  a  New  Family  Album  of  Endleaa  EntertalnmaBt,  cowriatlnc 
of  a  Scries  of  Tales  and  Sketches  by  the  most  popular  Authors,  with  numerous  devar  and 
humorous  Illustrations  on  Wood,  by  Crvikshavb  and  Sbtmovb.  Also,  CEUIKSHANK*S 
ODD  VOLUME,  OR  BOOK  OF  VARIETY.  Illustrated  by  Two  Odd  FeUows~8«yMOUB. 
and  Cbvikskabk.   Together  4  vols,  bound  In  S,  feap.  Svo  (pub.  at  U.  Uh),  doth,  gilt,  Ito.  6d. 

IMA 

HOWITTS  (WILLIAM)  UFE  AND  ADVENTURES  OF  JACK  OF  THE  MILL 
A  Fireside  Story.  By  Wzujak  Howitt.  Second  Edition.  S  vols.  Heap,  tw,  with  46  lUuar 
trations  on  Wood  (pub.  at  ISi.),  doth,  7«.  6d.  1M$ 

HOWITTS  (WILLIAM)  WANDERINGS  OF  A  JOURNEYMAN  TAILOR, 
THROUGH  EUROPE  AND  THE  EAST,  DURING  THE  YEARS  ISM  to  IMO.  Ikana! 
lated  by  Wu.uam  Howitt.    Fcap.  Sto,  with  Portrait  (pub.  at  0«.),  cloth,  St.  6rf.  is44 

HOWITTS  (WILLIAM)  GERMAN  EXPERIENCES.  Addraaaed  to  the  Bi«iiBh,  both 
Goers  abroad  and  SUyara  at  HoiM.    1  voL  ABap.STO(pub.ates.),«lotii,at.<d.  U44 

JANE'S  (EMMA)  AUCE  CUNNINGHAME,  or,  tha  Chrirttan  as  Daogfater,  Slater,  Friend, 
and  Wife.    Post  Svo  (pub.  at  te.),  cloth,  8^  «d.  IMS 

JOE  MILLER'S  JEST-BOOK;  being  a  Collecdon  of  tha  moat  azeaUent  Bon  Mala, BrUUant 
Jasu,  and  Striking  Anecdotes  in  the  EngllMh  Lsnguage.  Complete  In  I  thick  aad  daealgr  buf 
degantly  printed  vol.  fcap.  12mo,  Frontispiece  (pub.  at  4«.),  doth,  3«.  1S4S 

JERROLD'S  (DOUGLAS)  CAKES  AND  ALE,  A  CoOeetloB  of  humafoua  Taiaa  and 
Sketches.  S  vols,  post  Sro  with  Plates,  by  Gbobob  CBViKanAVX  (puh.  U  lit,),  oioth 
gut,  St.  IMS 


Digitized  by 


Google 


PUBLISHED  OR  SOLD  BT  H.  Q.  BOHX.  89 

LAST  OF  THE  PLANTAGENETS,  uHUtoricalNArr>tlT«,ininlnitliif  tbePoMieB^iirti. 

and  Domestic  and  Eccleiiastieal  Manners  of  the  IStb  and  10th  Centuries.    Fcap.  Svo,  Third 
Edition  (pub.  at  7*.  6d.),  cloth,  St.  dd.  IMS 

UEVER'S  ARTHUR  OLEARY;  HIS  WANDERINGS  AND  PONDERINGS  IN 
MANY  LANDS.  Edited  by  Hakry  LoRKEatrxB.  CRUiKsHAVx'a  New  Illastrated  Edition. 
Complete  in  1  vol.  8vo  (pub.  at  1S<. ),  cloth,  9».  lt4S 

tOVER'S  LEGENDS  AND  STORIES  OF  IRELAND.  Both  Series,  s vote.  Ab^?. sto. 
Fourth  Edition,  embellished  with  Woodcuta,  by  Hartbt  (pah.  at  U$,),  cluth,  9».  6d.  I84T 

LOVER'S  HANDY  ANDY.  A  Tale  of  Irtoh  Lift.  Mediam  Svo.  Third  EdiUon,  wHh  24 
characteristic  Illustrations  on  Steel  (pub.  at  IS*.),  cloth,  7«.  6cL  1849 

LOVER'S  TREASURE  TROVE;  OR  L  S.  D.  A  Romcntie  Irish  Tale  of  the  last  Cen- 
tury. Medium  8vo.  Second  EdiUon,  with  26  characteristic  lUoatratloiis  on  Steel  (pub.  at  14«.)* 
cloth,  9«.  ISM 

MARRYATS  (CAPT.)  POOR  JACK,  Illustrated  by  4«  !««•  aiid  •xgulritel/^beMtlltal 
Engravings  on  Wood,  after  the  masterly  designs  of  CLAXxaoK  STAvnBi.D,  R.A.  1  handsome 
vol.  royal  8vo  (pub.  at  I4«.),  gilt  cloth,  9».  1850 

MARRYATS  PIRATE  AND  THE  THREE  CUTTERS,  iiro,  with  so  most  splendid  line 
Engravings,  after  Stantisld,  Engraved  on  Steel  by  CHAKLsa  Hxatk  (originally  pub.  at 
1/.  4«. ),  gUt  doth,  10«.  6d.  184f 

MILLERS  GODFREY  MALVERN,  OR  THE  UFE  OF  AN,  AUTHOR.  By  the 
Author  of  "Gideon  GUes,"  "Bo>-»ton  Oower,"  "Day  in  the  Woods,"  fcc.  fte.  iToUinl, 
8to,  with  24  clever  Illustrations  by  Phiz  (pub.  at  13».),  cloth,  St.  (kf.  184S 

''  "This  work  has  a  tone  and  an  individuality  which  distinguish  It  from  all  others,  and  cannot 
be  read  without  pleasure.  Mr.  Miller  has  the  forms  and  colours  of  mstio  Ufe  more  completely 
under  his  control  than  any  of  his  predecessors."— i</Anueiun. 

MITFORD'S  (MISS)  OUR  VILLAGE:  complete  in  S  «ola.post8TO,a8«iiMofBiii«ITale« 
and  Sketches.    New  Edition,  beauttfU  WoodcuU,  gilt  cloth,  lOt. 

PHANTASMAGORIA  OF  FUN,  Edited  and  Illustrated  by  Ax,vmxi>  Ckowqvxlk.  S  vols. 
post  8vo,  illustrations  by  Lxbch,  Crviksravk,  fte.  (pub.  at  1S«.),  cloth,  7«.  Od.  istt 

PICTURES  OF  THE  FRENCH.  A  Series  of  Literary  and  Graphic  Dellneatlooa  of  French 
Cntkracter.  By  JuLxs  Jakik,  Balzac,  Cormbvth,  and  other  celebrated  French  Authors. 
1  large  vol.  royal  8vo,  Illustrated  by  upwards  of  230  humorous  and  extremely  clever  Wood 

r^    Engravings  by  distinguished  ArtbiU  (pub.  at  1/.  St.),  cloth  gilt,  Iflt.  1840 

This  book  is  extremely  clever,  both  in  the  letter-press  and  plates,  and  haa  had  an  immenae 
run  in  France,  greater  even  than  the  Pickwick  Papers  In  this  country. 

POOLE'S  COMIC  SKETCH   BOOK:  OR,  SKETCHES  AND  RECOLLECTIONS 

BY  THE  AUTHOR  OF  PAUL  PRY.    Second  EdiUon,  2  vols.,  post  Svo.,  fine  portrait, 
cloth  gilV  with  uev^ comic  ornaments  (pub.  at  I8t.),  7*.  6<f.  1843 

SKETCHES  FROM  FLEMISH  LIFE.  By  Hbvdxix  Covsczxxcx.  Square  ISmo,  UO  Wood 
Engravings  (pub.  at  St.),  cloth,  4t.  6d. 

TROLLOPE-S  (MRS.)  LIFE  AND  ADVENTURES  OF  MICHAEL  ARMSTRONG, 
THE  FACTORY  BOY,  medium  Svo,  with  24  Steel  Plates  (pub.  at  12s.),glU  clotti,  6*.  W.    M40 

TROLLOPES  (MRS.)  JESSIE  PHILLIPS.  A  Tale  of  thai 
and  12  Steel  Plates  (pub.  at  12t.),  cloth  gUt,  St.  6d. 

ooDectloB  of  tka 
17  humoroua  Bn- 
Fortnlts  (pab.  at 


^ubenfle  an&  lEIetnentarg  33ooiis^  (Sfgrnnastfcs^  (re. 

ALPHABET  OF  QUADRUPEDS,  nhistrated  by  Figures  selected  fkom  the  woika  of  the 
Old  Masters,  square  12mo,  with  24  spirited  Engravings  after  Bkxohkx,  BxMBBA.n>T,  Cxm, 
Favx.  Poxtxr,  ftc.  and  with  faoitlal  letters  by  Mr.  Shaw,  cloth,  gilt  edgea  (pub.  at  4s.  W.),  3e. 

. ■■■■■.—  the  same,  the  plates  coloured,  gilt  cloth,  gflt  edges  (]rab.  at  fa,  td,)  5$. 

CRABB'S  (REV.  G.)  NEW  PANTHEON,  or  Mythology  of  all  NatloDs;  eapeeially  fbr  tbo 
Use  of  Schools  and  Young  Persons :  with  Questions  fbr  ExaminatloD  on  the  Plan  of  Pixkock. 
18mo,  with  30  pleasing  Uthographs  (pub.  at  8s. ),  cloth,  St.  1847 

CROWqUILL'S  PICTORIAL  GRAMMAR.  I6m«,  with  uo  humonma  UfaiaeratlonB  (inib. 
at  5t.T,  cloth,  gilt  edges,  2t.  M.  1844 

DRAPERS  JUVENILE  NATURAUST,,or  Country  Walks  in  Snrinff,  Summer,  Autumn, 
an^Wlnter^  square  12mo,  with  80  beautifully  executed  Woodcute  (pub.  at  7«.  M.),  cloth,  flK 

I  improved  editloi 
m's  ownJIook;  i 
IBI^  Itontl^Mce 

Digitized  byVjOOQlC 


,.-  .•t7«.6c(.),  Cloth,  glK- 
«UB«-,  4t.  6d.  'l84S 

ENCYCLOP>EDfA  OF  MANNERS  AND  ETIQUETTE,  eomwlalnf  an  Improve* edition 
of  Chesterfield's  Advice  to  hfai  Son  on  Men  and  Manners j  and  the  Young  Man's  ownJIook;  a 
Manual  of  Polheneas,  Intellectual  Improvement,  and  Monl  Depoitaiont,  Hrn^  Itontl^ece, 
eloth,  gilt  edges,  2t.  r  n  "^        ^  '  lltt* 


80  ojltalogus  of  nevv'  books 

CQUESTIHAN  MANUAL  FOR  LAfHCS.  hy  Fa^n  S^wAm».   reif.t«tt,«p««idaWM 

^feMvtlAU  WiKMteM  ivmh.  ai  4«.h  irllt  eloili,  gilt  cdgM,  l«.  ».«.  -r     -^    r  ^^ 

QAMMER  GRETHEL'S  FAIRY  TALES  AND  POPULAR  TORIES.  tnui.tet«l  fhmi 
tiM  Oennaa  o/  Oftixic  (coDtalnlnf  43  Fairy  Tales),  post  Svo,  Bomerous  Woodeuta  by  Qmowbk 
C»«»aai.AaK  (r«h.atV«.M.),olatfcfUt  to  'f  »  ^j^mombm 

QOOO-NATUREO  BEAR,  a  Stoir  fte  ChliuMB  of  all  Agca,  bf  R.  H.  Hours.  So«ax««To, 
ptalM  (pull,  at  M.)  doth,  St.,  ar  with  thavatweoteua^tU.  ^         itsa 

GRIMM'S  TALES  FROM  EASTERN  LANDS.  Squara  Uiop,  plataa  (pub.  at  «■.)»  elotb, 
Sfc  6dL,  or  plataa  colouio4, 4^  IM.  ^  >>    ^^f 

HALL'S  (CAPTAIN  BASIL)  PATCHWORK,  a  Now  8«iftei  of  Fragmeata  of  Voyafcea  and 
Travals,  Scfond  EdMoa,  Itaao,  cloth,  with  tha  faaak  T017  riahly  aad  appropriately  rUt  whli 
paichvorfc  devkes  (pah.  a»  Ite.),  7s.  Sd.  Ig4i 

HOLIDAY  LIBRARY,  Edited  by  Wiuiak  HASLm.  Vnlfonnly  priotad  In  S  vols,  plates 
<»«h.  St  itfc  Cd.Keloth«  Ite  6ri.,  or  soparataly,  ▼ls;>-Orphan  of  Waterloo,  8«.  «dL  Holly 
Qmm^U^U,    laeaaiti •f Bwhaaahlt aad  Faliy Talea, Is. M.  liu 

HOWITT8  (WILUAM)  «IACK  OF  THE.  MIU.    S  wala,  u«o  (pob.  at  iK.),  eloUi  gilt. 

7s.  ad.  .  1844 

HOWITTS  (MARY)  CHILD'S  PICTURE  AND  VERSE  BOOK,  eommoaly called 
•*  Otto  Speektec's  Fable  Book:"  translatod  late  Enallsh  Verse,  with  French  aad  Oenaan 
Vtrsca  opposHa,  fonnlac  a  Trtelott,  aqMsre  Unao,  wUh  IW  laif*  Wood  Eaffravioga  (pub.  st 
XOi.  6d.).  extra  Turkey  cloth,  glTi  edges.  S«.  *^   1S45 

This  Is  one  of  the  moat  elegant  JuTenlla  books  orer  produced,  and  baa  the  aoTalty  of  being  in 
three  languages. 

LAMB'S  TALES  FROM  SHAKSPEARC,  deataaedpiinclptfljrfBrthouaaofToangPenoBs 
(written  by  Miss  snd  Charlbs  Lamb). Sixth  Edition,  embellislied  with  Mlargaaad  beaatfful 
Woodeiit  BngiBTfaiga,  flnom  designs  by  Habtbt,  fcsp.  Bvo  (pob.  at  7s.  6d.),  cloth  gilt,  St.  I84S 
**  One  of  the  most  useAii  and  agreeable  eempanlons  to  the  understanding  ofShakspeare  which 
ka*e  been  produced.  The  yontbrul  reader  who  is  about  to  taste  the  chams  of  our  great  Bard, 
Is  strongly  recoauaaBded  to  pcepaio  himsolf  by  flratraadlBg  these  elegank  talaa." — QmtrUrty 
Mttwiew, 

t.  E.  L  TRAITS  AND  TRIALS  OF  EARLY  LIFE.  ASerieaofTalesaddiaaeedto 
Young  People.  By  L.  B.  L.  (Miss  Labsow).  Fooftk  Edition,  fbap.  8to,  with  a  beautiful 
Portrait  Engraved  en  Steel  ( pub.  at  5t. ),  gilt  cloth,  St.  1S45 

UHIDON'S  (MRS.)  ENTERTAIN1NQ  NATURALIST,  beteg  popular  D«ierhtlons. 
Tales  and  Anecdotes  of  more  thaa  50*  Animals,  comprehending  all  the  tluadrapeds.  Birds, 
riabcs.  Reptiles,  Insects,  kc.  of  which  a  knowledge  Is  Indispensable  In  Polite  Edueatlhn; 
Ilustoated  by  upwards  of  MO  beautUtei  Woodcuts,  by  Bswzok,  Ha&tbt,  WIukpbb,  snd 
olhan,  poet  8to,  gilt  chrth,  7t.  M .  1850 

MARTIN  AND  WESTALL'S  PICTORIAL  HISTORY  OF  THE  BIBLE,  the  letter- 

Sreas  by  the  Rev.  Hobabt  CAVKTEBi  8to,  1M  extremely  besutlfyil  Wood  Engravings  by  the 
rst  Artiste  (incladtng  reduced  copies  of  Mautiv's  celebtated  Pictures,  Beishassar^s  Feast, 
Tha  Doluga,  FaU  of  Ninavoh,  fta.),  ekrtli  lAU,  giU  adgea,  reduced  to  Us.  Wkalo  boond  mor. 
rkhly  gtlt,  glH  edges,  ist.  ists 

A  most  elegant  present  to  young  people. 

PARt.ErS  (PETERy  WONDERS  Of.  HISTORY.  Square  iflmo,  nuneraua  Woodcuts 
(pub.  at  Ci. ),  cloth,  gilt  edges,  St.  6d.  1846 

PKROY  TALES  OF  THE  KINGS  OF  ENGLAND;  Stories  of  Camps  and  Battla-Flelds, 
win,  and  VIctoriea  (modemlzed  flrom  Holixsubd,  FmorasAUT,  and  the  other  Chroaldcrs), 
9  vols,  in  1,  square  l2mo.  (Parley  size.)  Fbnrth  Edition,  considerably  improved,  completed 
to  the  present  time,  embellished  with  16  exceedingly  beautlnil  Wood  Engravings  (pub.  atdi.), 
cloth  gilt,  gilt  edges,  St.  18M 

This  beautiful  volume  has  enjoyed  a  large  share  of  success,  and  deservedly. 

ROBNHOOD  AND  HIS  M£RRY  FORESTERS.  By  Snraair  Pbrct.  Square  lano, 
S  Illttstratioas  by  Oilbbbt  (pub.  at  U.)^  cloth,  St.  fid.,  or  with  coloured  Plates,  U.  ISJS 

STRICKLAND'S  (MISS)  EDWARD  EVELYN,  aTaleof  theRebelUonofms:  to  which  b 

added  "The  Peaaaat'a  lUe,"  by  JxnBmvs  Tatxak,  teuf*  *^  *  A**  FlaiteB  (iiub.«t&i.), 

elethfilt.  It.  fld.  ists 

By  tho  popukur  Amther  of4ha  Uvoa  of  tlte« 

7t>MKIN*8  BEAUTIES  OF  ENQUSH  POETRY^  aeleoted  for  tha  Use  of  Youth,  snd 
designed  to  Inculcate  the  Practice  of  Virtue.  Twentieth  Edition,  with  considerable  additions, 
rural  lana,  ve^  alagattljr  prlatad,  vMh  a  boanttftdFtaatkpieco  after  HiUtrsT,  elagaatgllt 
ediaa,St.dd.  1847 

WOOD-NOTES  FOR  ALL  SEASONS  (OR  THE  POETRY  OF  BfRDS),  a  Series  of 
Songs  and  Poems  for  Young  People,  eontiibuted  by  Barkv  Coubwali.,  W«iu)awoaTH,. 

MttOUB,   COLBlUSeB,  CAtfPBBLL,  JOAVKA   BAtLLIB,  EUZA   CoOK,   MaBT  HOWITT,  HBS. 

HsaiAxs,  Hogg,  Chabi.ottb  Smith,  &c.  fcsp.  8vo,  very  prettily  printed,  withlS  beautifU 
Wood  Engravings  (pub.  at  St*  <dw),  doth,  gilt  edgea,  St.  I8«t 

YOUTH'S  (THE)  HANDBOOK  OF  ENTERTArNING  KNOWLEDGE,  m  a  Serisa  of 
Familiar  Conversations  on  the  most  interesting  productions  of  Natum  and  Art,  and  on  other 
iBstrucsive  Topica  of  Polite  Education.  By  a  Lady  (Maa.  PAXAiasx,  the  SIsivr  of  Captain 
MnuiTAi),  f  vole.  fcap.  tvo,  Woodcuts  (pub.  at  ite.),  cloth  gilt,  U*  1844 

This  is  a  very  clever  and  lastruetlve  book,  adanted  to  tht,  capacltlw  of  yos'if  paaplgyeathe 
plan  of  the  Conversations  on  Chembtry,  Mineraiog}',  Botai.r,  «c. 


Digitized  by 


Google 


PUBUSHSD  OR  SOtD  ST  R.  6.  BOHK.  81 


£Vlvi%it  an&  i^ttstcal  seaarfcs. 


THE  MUSICAL  LIBRARY.    A  Mcelion  of  flie  bwt  Toeal  and  Imtnanmtel  Miuie,  teth 
Bnslbb  and  Foreign.    Sdited  by  W.  Atktov,  Em.  of  tbm  Ofmtf  Houm.    8  volt,  folio,  com- 
pKbending  more  thjui  400  ptecM  of  Mudc,  besutlniUy  printed  with  meUUie  types  (pub.  «l 
4<.  4f.).  ««wedt  1M1«.  W. 
Tbe  vocal  and  Initrumental  maj  ba  kMt  aepanUdyt  wdi  IB  4  TOls.  181. 

MUSICAL  CABINET  AND  HARMONIST.  A  CoIlectlMi  of  CkMlcal  and  Pomilar  Vocal 
and  iMtnimental  Music:  comprislBg <8al«e1loas  fkvm  the  beat  produetlonB  oT  all  the  Great 

"     "•    ^    —  ^--.-^   w_.^-*_     ^^^^  jjjyyjy  of_tha  National  Ai»  of  other 

"      "  *■*  *  Oallopades;  also 
Piano-forte,  the 
^,  ,.  -.__      „     .                                       .                                           ,  under  the  superin- 
tendence of  an  eminent  Professor.    4  vols,  small  folio,  comprahendiac  mora  thaa  «00  piaess  of 
Music,  beauttfnlly  printed  with  metallic  types  (pub.  at  JL  ai.),  seared,  I6«. 

The  great  sale  of  the  Musical  LlbrMy,  in  consequence  of  Its  extremely  low  price,  bas  induced 
tbe  Advertiser  to  adopt  the  same  plan  of  selling  the  present  capital  selection.  As  the  contents 
are  quite  different  from  the  Musical  Libraiy,  and 'tlie  Intriaile  nerit  of  the  Mlaction  is  eqval, 
the  work  will  no  doubt  meet  With  similar  luccass. 

MUSICAL  GEM ;  a  Oolleetion  of  soo  Modem  Songa,  Duets,  Gleea,  ke,  by  the  most  celebrated 
Composers  of  the  present  day,  adapted  for  the  Voice,  Flute,  or  Violin  (edited  by  Joh  w  Parry), 
3  vols,  in  1,  8vo,  with  a  beautifillly  engraved  Title,  and  a  very  richly  illomiaated  Frontispiece 
(pub.  at  lLU.h  cloth  silt,  lOt.  6d.  1841 

The  above  capital  eolleetion  contains  a  great  munber  of  the  beet  copyright  placea,  Includinf 
aome  of  the  most  popular  songs  of  Braham,  Bishop,  &c  It  fbrms  a  moet  attactlve  volume. 


iWelrtcftte.  Sburgerg,  anatemg,  aDJemfettp, 

BARTON  AND  CASTLE'S  BRITISH  FLORA  MEDICA;  Or.  History  of  the  Medteiaal 
Planu  of  Great  Britain,  2  voia.  Svo,  upwards  of  aOO  finely  coloured  figures  of  Plants  (pub.  at 
S{.8«.),  cloth,  H.  16a.  1845 

An  exceedingly  cheap,  elegant,  and  valuable  work,  necessary  to  every  medical  practitioner. 

BATEMAN   AND   WILLAN'S    DELINEATIONS   OF   CUTANEOUS   DISEASES. 

4to,  containing  72  Plates,  beauti(UIly  and  very  accurately  colotu'ed  under  the  superintendence 
of  an  eminent  Professional  Gentleman  (Dr.  CAKSwau),  (pub.  at  121,  Ut.),  half  bound  mor. 
2LU.  M40 

**Dr.  Bateman*s  valuable  work  baa  done  mora  to  extend  the  knowledge  of  cutaneous  diseases 
than  any  other  that  has  ever  appeared."— Dr.  A.  T.  J%amjuom, 

BEHR'S  HAND-BOOK  OF  ANATOMY,  by  BinKBn(Demonstnlar  al  Ovy'a Hospital), 
thick  l2mo,  closely  printed,  cloth  letteied  (pub.  at  lOt.  6d.),  S«.  6d.  1846 

BOSTOCKS  (DR.)  SYSTEM  OF  PHYSIOLOGY,  comprising  a  Complete  View  of  the 
piesent  state  of  the  Selenaa.  4th  Xdltion,  xevleed  and  coneeted  throu^ont,  svo  (900  psges), 
(pub.  at  IL),  cloth,  f,  1834 

BURNS'S  PRINCIPLES  OF  MIDWIFERY,  toitli  and  beirtadltlon,  thick  Svo,eloth  lettered, 
(ptth.atl6i.)t6«* 

CELSUS  DE  MEDICINA.  Edited  by  B.  MnxxoAir,  H.D.  cum  Indies  copiosisslmo  ex  edit. 
TMwae.    Thidk  Svo,  FrontUpieee  (pub.  at  16t.),  doth,  te.  1831 

This  Is  the  very  best  edition  of  Celsus.  It  contains  critical  and  aedleal  notes,  applicable  to 
the  prsctice  of  this  country:  a  parallel  Table  of  ancient  and  modem  Medical  terms,  svnonymes, 
weighta,  measures,  fte.  and,  indeed,  everything  which  can  be  uaefiil  to  the  Medical  Student; 
togettwr  with  a  aingularly  eactensive  Index. 

HOPE'S  MORBID  ANATOMY,  royal  Svo,  wifli  48  highly  finished  coloured  Plates,  contain- 
ing 260  aocniBte  Dallaeattona  of  Cases  In  ea«Tr  known  \ariely  of  Dlsasee  (pub.  at  6L  bs,\, 
cieth,8f.afc  1834 

LAWRENCE'S  LECTURES  ON  COMPARATIVE  ANATOMY.  PHYSJOLOgY, 
ZOOLOGY,  AND  THB  NATURAL  HlfiTOBT  OF  MAN.  New  Edition,  post  Svo,  with  a 
Frontispiece  of  Portraita,  engraved  on  Steel,  and  12  Plates,  cloth,  6*. 

LAWRENCE  (W.)  ON  THE  DISEASES  OF  THE  EYE.  TWrd  Edition,  revised  md 
enlarged.    Svo  (830  closely  printed  psges),  (pub.  at  1^.  4f.),  cloth,  10s.  6d.  1844 

LEY'S  (DR.)  ESSAY  ON  THE  CROUP,  Svdi,  6  PUtes  Ipvib,  at  i&i.),  cloth,  u,  fid.        1836 
LIFE  OF  SIR   ASTLEY  COOPER,  interspersed  with  his  Sketches  of  Distinguished  Cha- 
racters, by  BXAVSBY  Cooper.    2  vols.  Svo,  with  fine  Poztrait,  after  Sir  Thomss  Lawrence 
(pub.  at  IL  1«.),  cloth,  IM.  M,  18^' 

NEW  LONDON  SURGICAL  POCKET-BOOK,  thick  rojalllmo  (pub.  at  m.),  hf.bd.^. 


Digitized  by 


Google 


32  CATAL0G17E  OF  KBW  BOOKS.  .> 

•'^IILt^SS^fl.^SPIS^^^^  *"»»"^-'  ^^•™-^'  ""^'^^  '^'  «si 

'•^?i*;«iS»^US.^™l.s?''    '^'^   ^**^    "T"^   DIGESTIVE    FUNCTIONS. 

PLUMBE'S  PRACTICAL  TREATISE  ON  THE  DISEASE  OF  THE  SKIN. 
>'oarthtdmomPUtM,tlikk«To(pob.atli.l«.),cloth,6fc«d. 

SINCLAIR^  ISIR  JOHN)  OWJE  OF  HEALTH  AND  LONGEVITY;  Sixth  B4it>en. 
eomplcte  la  1  Utkk  vol.  Sto,  Portrait  ( pub.  at  i^ ),  cloth,  7«.  '  IBM 

SOUTH'S  DESCRIPTipN  OF  THE  BONES,  together  «Uh  thtir  several  connexioiu 
wtth  eeeb  other,  and  with  the  MumIos,  specially  adapted  for  Students  in  Anatomr.  numerous 
Woodottti,  third  edition,  Itaio,  cloth  lettered  (pub.  at  7«. ),  3a.  U.  1837 

rrEPHENSpNS  MEDICAL  ZOOLOGY  AND  MINERALOGY;  including  also  «o 
account  of  the  Aaiaal  and  Minenl  Pol«)ns,  45  coloured  Plates,  royal  8vo  (pub.  at  U.  It.), 
cloth,  I^  U.  1838 

TYRRELL  ON  THE  DISEASES  OF  THE  EYE,  being  a  Practical  Work  on  their  Treat- 
ment, Medically,  Topically,  and  by  Operatloa,  by  F.  Tranxi,!,,  Senior  Surgeon  to  the  Roya! 
London  Ophthalmic  Hospital.  8  thick  vols.  8to,  Ulustxated  by  9  Plates,  containing  upwanU  of 
60  finely  coloured  figutes  (pub.  at  1/.  I6«.),  cloth,  l^  ic  IMO 

WOODVILLE'S  MEDICAL  BOTANY.  Third  Edition,  enlarged  by  Sir  W.  Jacxsoit 
HooXEiu  i  vols.  4to,  with  310  Plates,  Engraved  by  Sowerby,  most  carefully  coloured  (puh. 
at  lot.  10«.)i  hairbound  morocco,  U,  S*.  The  Fiftli,  or  SupplemenUry  Volume,  entirely  by  Sir 
W.  J.  HooxBK,  to  complete  the  old  Editions.  4to,  36  coloured  Plates  (pub.  at2<.  12*.  64t.l, 
boards,  IL  lU.  id,  "  iist 


iWlatletnattcs. 


BRADLEY'S  GEOMETRY,  PERSPECTIVE,  AND  PROJECTION,  for  the  tiic  of 
Artiats.    8  Plates  and  numerous  Woodcuts  (pub.  at  7*. )» eloth,  5«.  1M6 

CUCUD'S  SIX  ELEMENTARY  BOOKS.  bT  Dr.  Laxdnxk,  with  an  Explanatory  Com- 
mentary, Geometrical  Exercises,  and  a  Treatise  on  Solid  (Geometry,  8to,  Ninth  sdition, 
cloth,  C«. 

EUCLID  IN  PARAGRAPHS :  The  Elements  of  Euclid,  containing  the  first  Six  Books,  and 
the  first  Twenty~«ie  Propositions  of  the  Eleventh  Book,  Mmo,  with  the  Planes  shadedTiPub. 
at  6«. ),  cloth,  3«.  6d,  C*Mi.    1843 

JAMIESON'S  MECHANICS  FOR  PRACTICAL  MEN,  including  Treatises  on  the  Com- 
position and  Resolution  of  Forces;  the  Centre  of  Gravity;  and  the  Meehanlcal  Powers;  illus- 
trated by  Examples  and  Designs.  Fourth  Edition,  ffreatiy  hnprared,  8vo  (pub.  at  ist.i, 
cloth,  7*.  6d.  1SS9 

**▲  great  nMhanlcal  treasore."— i>r.  BirJtbeck. 


BOOKS  PRINTED  UNIFORM  WITH  THE  STANDARD  LIBRARY. 

JOYCE'S  SCIEHrriFIC  DIALOGUES,  enlarged  by  Pihvocx,  for  the  InstrucUon  and 
Entertainment  or  Young  People.  New  and  greatly  improved  and  enlarged  Edition,  bv 
William  Pikkocx,  completed  to  the  present  state  of  knowledge  (600^  peges),  numerous 
Woodcttts,  9<. 

«TURM'S    MORNING    COMMUNINGS   WITH    GOD,  or  Devotional  Mediuaona  for 

every  Day  in  the  Year,  St.  uij 

CHILUNGWORTHS  RELIGION  OF  PROTESTANTS.    500pp.3«.6d. 
GARY'S  TRANSLATION  OF  DANTE.    (Upwards  of  600  pages),  extra  blue  cloth,  vith  « 

richly  gUt  back,  7*.  6d.  1847 

MAXWELL'S  VICTORIES  OF  THE  BRITISH  ARMIES,  enlarged  and  improved,  ana 

brought  down  to  the  present  time;  several  highly  finished  Steel  Portraitt,  and  a  Fkontispieee. 

extra  gUt  cloth,  7«.  6d.  1847 

MICHELETS  HISTORY  OF  THE  FRENCH  REVOLUTION,  transuted  oycCocxi, 

3  vols,  in  1, 4f. 
DOBINSON  CRUSOE,  including  his  further  Adventures,  with  a  Lifs  of  Defoe,  ftc.  upwanM 

of  60  fine  Woodcuts,  from  designs  by  Uarvet  and  Whimpex,  5i. 

STARLING'S  (MISS)  NOBLE  DEEDS  OF  WOMAN,  or  Examples  of  Female  Conn*  . 
Fortitude,  and  Virtue,  Third  Edttion.  enlarged  and  improved,  with  two  very  beautinil  FronUf  • 
pieces,  el^^ant  in  cloth,  8«.  IBM 


iiOirpov;  PMjnao  >t  uxxMxaow  aid  »ev,  st.  vaatdt*!  lajra. 

Digitized  by 


Goos 


Digitized  by 


Google 


Digitized  by 


Google 


Digitized  by 


Google 


Digitized  by 


Google