our country, the art of creating landscape, is, in Italy, the art of marring it.

In my enthusiasm for the Aurora of Guido, I forgot to mention the paintings of the Rospigliosi Palace.

You are taken, reluctantly, from the contemplation of the Aurora, into 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 all the birds of the air and beasts of the field, and reptiles that ever crawled upon the earth; and in the middle of them stand our first Parents, in a most unenviable situation.

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. They were found in the baths of Constantine, upon a part of which this palace was built. Here is a pretty little 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 of Trajan; and the larger ones are said to have been brought from his Forum. They are placed at such a height from the ground, that the beauty of the sculpture is lost.

Two magnificent columns of Rosso Antico, the only ones of this size in the world, are judiciously wedged into the wall of the Casino, and so totally hidden in it, that they would pass unobserved were

they not pointed out. If they were made of painted stucco, they would look quite as well 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 paintings generally passed over in haste, for what stranger can view them with patience, before he sees the Aurora; and after it, how can he admire them? Among them however, are some paintings of considerable merit.

Guido's Andromeda is one of these. It is seldom Guido erred from want of expression, but she is surely too calm, and too placid, for such a situation. Neither Perseus winging his flight to her rescue, nor the Sea Monster raising its jaws to devour her, seem 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.

Domenichino's Triumph of David, is not, on the whole, one of his finest compositions. The figures are larger than 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.

Samson, pulling down the Temple on the Philistines, by L. Caracci, is extremely admired; but the subject is, I think, a peculiarly unfortunate one for painting. The gigantic columns, and tumbling roofs, yielding to the force of a single man of human size, has something in it of revolting impossibility and disproportion.

Eighteen ancient frescos, found in the baths of

Constantine, 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 Prince Rospigliosi carried them off with him to Florence, where he now resides; and his servants there, maintained they were at Rome. They are not now to be seen or heard of any where.

LETTER LXIX.

ROMAN VILLAS-RAPHAEL'S CASINO, AND FRESCOS -BORGHESE GARDENS-ITALIAN AND ENGLISH GARDENING-VILLAS ALDOBRANDINI, ALTIERI, GIRAUD, PAMFILI DORIA, AND LANTI-FRENCH ACADEMY-UTILITY OF AN ENGLISH ONE-VISIT

TO MONTE

MARIO-VILLA MADAMA-PASTOR FIDO-RAPHAEL'S FRESCOS.

SINCE I have been in Rome, many are the visits I have paid to the Casino of Raphael, 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 Raffaello; for it still bears his name, though it now belongs to Signore Nelli. It is unfurnished, except with casks of wine, and uninhabited, except by a Contadina, who shews it to strangers.

We passed through two rooms, painted by his scholars ;-the third, which was his bed-room, is entirely adorned with the work of his own hands.

It is a small pleasant apartment, looking out on a little green lawn, fenced in with wood irregularly planted. The walls are covered with arabesques, in various whimsical and beautiful designs,-such as the sports of children; Loves balancing themselves on poles, or mounted on horseback, full of glee and mirth; Fauns and Satyrs; Mercury and Minerva; flowers and curling tendrils, and every beautiful composition 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 Fornarina-it seemed as if he took pleasure in multiplying that beloved object, so that wherever his eyes turned her image might meet them. There are three other paintings, 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 laying asleep on the ground, his quiver empty beside him. One or two roguish-looking Loves are creeping about on the ground, one of them bearing a lighted torch. The marksmen 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 of a couch, with an altar before him, in a temple or rotunda; and from gardens which appear in perspective through its