step, and on each of the succeeding ones they pause to whisper a short prayer. The ascent occupies half or three quarters of an hour. It is at once painful and melancholy, to see delicate females struggling in the performance of this superstitious penance, imposed as a religious duty. In all my visits, I do not recollect to have seen one of the priesthood reducing his corpulency, or soiling his sacerdotal robes, by such an act of humility. At the head of the stairs is a little chapel, denominated the sanctum sanctorum, from its peculiar holiness. It contains a precious crucifix, and two of the nails from the cross, brought from Jerusalem. We had an indistinct view of these relics, through a lattice and by the faint glimmer of a taper, kept forever burning in the sacred shrine. The picture of superstition is here more gross and revolting, than I have found it in any other part of Italy, because it is accompanied with bodily pain. Of all the churches at Rome or in Italy, so far as my observation has extended, none will sustain a comparison in elegance of form, richness of materials, and splendour of ornament, with Santa Maria Maggiore. It is situated upon the summit of the Esquiline Hill, and covers ground once occupied by a temple of Juno. The shrine of the Virgin Mother no doubt far surpasses in sumptuousness that of the Queen of Heaven. At all events, the brilliancy of its decorations is better suited to a theatre, a pavilion, or a ball-room, than to the character of that religion, which in its origin is associated with a manger, and the prevailing spirit of which is lowliness of heart. Yet here the holy babe is annually born, and rocked in a more splendid cradle, than ever lulled the slumbers of an earthly monarch. The form of this church is that of the ancient basilica, allowed to be the most perfect, so far as it respects symmetry and beauty. Nothing can exceed in richness and elegance the view from the front door, towards the high altar and the tribune. Forty beautiful antique pillars of the Ionic order line the nave, and support galleries, which are divided into compartments, filled with paintings. The glories of the ceiling vie with the mosaics of the pavement. Between the nave and the choir, rises a canopy supported by four porphyry pillars, wreathed with gold, and only surpassed in splendour by the profusion of lapis-lazuli, agate, and jasper, which glitter on the alters around. Two magnificent chapels open on either hand, and are filled with piles of monumental marble, of the most ex quisite workmanship. Among these are the tombs of four Popes. In one of the chapels is a beautiful tabernacle supported by angels of bronze gilt. The outside of Santa Maria Maggiore does not fully correspond in magnificence with the interior. Its roof is crowned with two domes and a misshapen steeple. On one side stands an Egyptian Obelisk, taken from the tomb of Augustus; and on the other, a column from the temple of Peace, surmounted by a statue of the Madonna. The church of St. Maria of the Angels possesses an interest entirely different from that of the one just described. It stands on the ruins of Diocletian's Baths, and in fact once formed a part of that imperial and luxurious establishment, which covered several acres. Michael Angelo converted that portion which was denominated the Xystum, or the arena for wrestlers and gladiators in unpleasant weather, into the present church, and made it one of the grandest in Rome. Its form is perfect, being a Greek Cross, from the intersection of which every object in the edifice may be distinctly seen. The nave is nearly two hundred feet in length, and upwards of one hundred in height, supported by antique columns of granite, sixteen feet in circumference. On the splendid mosaic pavement is a delineation of the Ecliptic, exhibiting the signs of the zodiac, the most remarkable stars within the limits of the solar path, and the feasts of the church, all finely executed. The line extends diagonally the length of the church. In the vestibule, which was one of the hot baths of Diocletian, are the tombs of Salvator Rosa and Carlo Maratta, two eminent artists. That of the former is of beautiful white marble, comprising a statue of himself, with two children at the base, and a very neat appropriate inscription. I made two excursions to St. Paul's without the walls, several miles from the city, taking in my way several intermediate objects, among the most interesting of which are Monte Testaccio, the tomb of Caius Cestius, and the Protestant Cemetery. The Mons Testaceus, as it was called by the old Romans, situated near the left bank of the Tiber, is nearly two hundred feet in height, and five or six hundred feet in circumference. It is entirely artificial, composed of broken porcelain, thrown out as refuse ware by workmen in the potteries. It is now covered with green sward, and on its summit an annual festival is celebrated, resembling the A ancient Saturnalia. Not far from its base, rises to the height of about 120 feet the proud and substantial pyramid, in honour of Caius Cestius, the purveyor for the feasts of the gods, who seems to have possessed nothing beyond official dignity, to entitle him to such a distinction. A lateral door, kept under lock and key, opens into the spacious vault, arched at top, in which the sarcophagus was deposited, in the style of the Egyptian kings. A cicerone conducted us down a flight of steps into the vacant, murky, and gloomy sepulchre, pointing out the half obliterated frescos upon the roof. But it contains little that deserves the attention of the visitant. The name of the wealthy Roman is pompously displayed on one of the faces of the exterior. The burying-ground for strangers is not less beautiful and interesting than the Protestant Cemetery at Leghorn, described in a former letter. It lies in the form of an exact square, enclosed by a moat ten feet in width and fifteen in depth, laying bare the pavement of the old Ostian Way. The sides of the entrenchment are neatly walled up with substantial masonry, and a draw-bridge, with a gate kept locked, forms the only entrance. Copses of pine, yew, elm, acacia, and other shrubs, together with a coat of rank grass enamelled with the red poppy and a variety of wild flowers, shade the grounds, half concealing the beautiful white mar ble monuments rising amidst the foliage. Here, as at Leghorn and Naples, rest the remains of several of our countrymen. Among the tombs of strangers, which most interested us, was that of the celebrated Doctor John Bell, of Edinburgh, whose book on Italy has lately been published. The tomb of Percy B. Shelley, the friend of Lord Byron, who was drowned on the coast of Tuscany, is among the most conspicuous in the new cemetery, contiguous to the old one. His epitaph is as eccentric as was the character of his It consists of an odd quotation from the Tempest of Shakspeare: muse. "Nothing of him that doth fade, By the side of the road, between the tomb of Cajus Ces tius and the Church of St. Paul, is a little shrine said to be erected on the spot, where the two Apostles parted just before their execution. A Latin inscription records the mourn' ful event of the last meeting. The identity of the scene, and even the fact of an interview, rests on a vague tradition. St. Paul's without the walls, once second only to St. Peter's in its dimensions and magnificence, is now a mass of bleak ruins, having been a few years since destroyed by fire. Useless as was this splendid temple, in the deserts of the Campagna, where there are no inhabitants within miles of its doors, it is painful to behold such a wreck of the arts. Massive and beautiful fluted pillars of the Corinthian order, shivered and calcined by the flames, strew a mosaic pavement about 250 feet in length, and half that distance in breadth. The whole area is covered with the stumps, shafts, and fragments of capitals and friezes. No less than one hundred and twenty of these immense columns, many of which were from the tomb of Adrian, rose along the nave and aisles of this proud temple, forming colonnades and vistas of unequalled splendour. A monk from a neighbouring convent, the few inmates of which are pallid with sickness, and starving amidst the waste by which they are surrounded, conducted us through his own cloisters, and over the sad remains of the church, prolonging his services as much as possible, with the hope of augmenting his fee. Behind the place where the high altar once stood, now strewed with the molten scoria of its precious gems, he showed the reputed tomb of St. Paul, in the form of a subterranean vault, with a small altar, before which a taper is still kept burning, and flings its dim rays upon the surrounding ruins. In a second visit to St. Paul's, we extended our ride two miles farther on towards Ostia, to a place where it is said the great Apostle of the Gentiles and many of his proselytes suffered martyrdom. To whatever degree of credibility the legend may be entitled, it has been sufficient in the eyes of the faithful to impart peculiar sanctity to the scene of suffering; and here three other churches have been erected, in the very depths of the Campagna, forming the remotest outposts in the chain of ecclesiastical fortresses encircling Rome. The solitudes in this region are absolutely appalling. There is not to my recollection a single dwelling on the road, in the whole distance of four or five miles from the gates of the city. Glimpses of the Tiber, rolling through such a perfect desert, in silent and sullen grandeur, only serve to deepen the picture of desolation. Deep excavations have been made in the undulating surface, for obtaining tufp. We saw here and there a shepherd tending his flock of sheep and goats on the green but lonely waste. The most interesting of the group of churches, standing within a few rods of one another, is St. Paul's of the Three Fountains. It is intrinsically a pretty temple, rich in its decorations, among which are two columns of green porphyry, extremely beautiful. But this chapel relies chiefly on its associations, for its attractions both to pilgrims and travellers. In one corner stands a white marble pillar, protected by an iron grate, and a Latin inscription states that it is the identical block, on which St. Paul was beheaded. One of the two monks, who seem to be the sole residents in the vicinity of these three churches, confirmed the authenticity of the tradition, and was very loquacious in citing authorities. But the marble block, (an odd material for the purposes of decapitation,) is not the greatest wonder in this marvellous shrine. Along the walls are three fountains, which, according to the same legendary tales, burst forth all at once in a miraculous manner. The friar scooped up a ladle full of the water and gave us to drink. It was found to be pure and refreshing. Two or three squalid peasants, who were journeying from the mouth of the Tiber to Rome, and who here halted to kneel at the holy altar, also drank at the fountains, as if there was some peculiar virtue in the draught. LETTER LXXV. ROME CONTINUED-TOMB OF TASSO-CORSINI PALACE-MOUNT JANICULUM-FOUNTAIN OF PAUL V.--VILLA DORIA PAMFILI -DORIA PALACE-SCENE UPON THE CORSO--PALAZZO ROSPIGLIOSI--GUIDO'S AURORA-GALLERY. - June, 1826.-A solitary pilgrimage to the tomb of Tasso afforded me great pleasure. It is in the church of St. Onofrio, situated on the brow of the Janiculum, overhanging the ancient gardens of Cæsar, and commanding a charming view of Rome. A small terrace in front is beautifully shaded with elms, and the cloisters of the Convent, in which the great epic poet of modern Italy died in penury, exhibit an air of deep seclusion. My visit was at evening. Finding no one in the vicinity, I entered the church alone to look |