an ancient wall, beyond which the ground falls perpendicularly; and the laurels and cypress, the rocks and wild-springing aloes in front of it, form a fine foreground. Even the old tower of the church, rising behind it, adds to the picturesque effect.

In this church, we saw a beautiful Pagan altar found here, sculptured with rams heads, and wreaths of flowers; and a noble ancient vase, which serves for a baptismal font. In the walls of this church there is a blocked up door-way, above which I observed the following inscription:

M. MANLIUS M. F. | | | * LIVR.
FILIUS D. DUOMVIRES

PASINASUS | | | | ENTE | AEDEM
FACENDAM CORA VERUNTE

IODAMQUE PROLAXERA.

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 Marcus, 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 fricze, on which is inscribed,

M. CASTORE POLLUCIDE, C. S. FAC
M. CALVIUS. M. | P. N.

These marks I have made to signify obliterated letters.

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, and 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.*

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 curves, or angles, something like the creases of a great Indian screen, when not much 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 construction, but, of course, not in these angles. Vitruvius, 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

* Vide Winkelman sur l'Architecture.

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 Goths!

On Trajan's column, an ancient city is represented, with walls of this construction, and remains 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 Penatorio, and which I believe was anciently 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 controul, have prevented 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 misfortunes which probably you will not lament very deeply, neither do I; but Palestrina was the ancient Præneste, therefore, I should have liked to have seen it; though of Præneste there are now no remains. Even of the celebrated temple of " that host fortunate of fortunes," as Carneades the Athe

ian, from its surpassing magnificence, called the Fortune of Præneste,-there is not now one stone Lift upon another, though the platform on which it stood can still be distinctly traced.

LETTER XCVI.

FRASCATI-BANDITTI.

Frascati, Nov. 11, 1818.

CONSTERNATION fills this little peaceful town. Yesterday evening, Lucien Buonaparte's villa was entered by a gang of banditti ;—but I must tell you the story in order as it happened.

About four in the afternoon, Monsignore, the old priest of the family, 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; 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 till 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 dinnerbell rang, the family sat down to table, but as Monsignore was not to be found, a servant was sent into the pleasure-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 firearms presented, cautiously advanced into the house, but they were soon descried by the servants, whose shrieks they stilled in a moment by the menace of instant death, if they moved a step, or uttered a sound. One maid-servant, however, escaped, and gave the alarm to the party in the dining-room, who all fled in different directions, to conceal themselves, while the unfortunate secretary, who had previously left the room to inquire into the cause of the tumult, 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 encountered on the grounds, to

+ Porter, or out-door labourer.