for the tomb. A young friar, the only person in the chapel, happened to be kneeling at his vespers on the very slab in the pavement, which covers the dust, and is inscribed with the name of the divine poet. The kind-hearted ecclesiastic, guessing my errand, rose and after pointing to the spot without uttering a word, knelt at a little distance to finish his evening devotions. I followed his example in kneeling, for the less pious purpose of enabling me in the obscurity of twilight to read the inscription, which was found to be as follows:-" Torquati Tassi ossa hic jacent"-here rest the remains of Torquato Tasso. He died in 1644, at the age of 51, after a series of persecutions and misfortunes, such as Italian genius seems to have been destined in all cases to experience, amidst the collision of parties, the intolerance of the church, the tyranny of petty sovereignties, and the jealousies of individuals. On the wall opposite the slab covering his ashes, is a handsome monument to his memory, consisting of a marble tablet, bearing a long Latin epitaph; a beautiful medallion of the poet, with other decorations in good taste, the whole surmounted by a cross.

On the 14th, all our party went to the Corsini Palace, situated beyond the Tiber, at the foot of the Janjculum. The principal object of our visit was to look at the gallery' of statues and paintings. Of the former the number is small and uninteresting, in comparson with the museums at the Capitol and Vatican; but the collection of pictures contains some of the choicest specimens we have found in Italy. The walls of several apartments are covered with the productions of the first artists, and there is scarcely a mean work in the gallery. Before all others, I had almost said here or elsewhere, is an Ecce Homo, the head of the Saviour, by Guercino. It is a sublime effort of the mighty master, and will produce an emotion in every mind, however unschooled in the arts.

From the Corsini Palace, we pursued our excursion to the summit of Janiculum, whence a splendid panoramic view of Rome and its environs was obtained. Near the top is the noble Fountain of Paul V. one of the finest among the hundred, which purify, refresh, and adorn the imperial city. Not merely a brook, but a river, brought thirty-five miles in an aqueduct, here gushes through five apertures in a wall, and descends in foam into a magnificent marble basin. Between the silver streams are half a dozen splendid Ionic

columns of red'granite, surmounted by a rich frieze, all taken from the Forum of Nerva.

Passing out of the Porta di San Pancrazio, which spans the old Aurelian Way, we visited the Villa Doria Pamfili, belonging to a descendant of the Genoese Liberator. It is one of the most extensive in the environs of Rome, being about four miles in circuit. The grounds are filled with groves, walks, lakes, and fountains, much resembling in style, the gardens at Versailles. In some instances, the woods and waters are fine. The most conspicuous tree is the pine, rising to a moderate height, with a flat spreading top. In the embellishment of this park, art has done too much. Every object has been distorted, and few of the negligent graces of nature are left.

The next day we went to the Doria Palace in the Corso. It is a large and magnificent structure, presenting a handsome front to the street. The apartments are generally elegant: one of them is peculiarly splendid, the walls being covered with mirrors, somewhat in the style of the Serra, at Genoa. The gallery of pictures comprises a rare collection. Two of the finest are Cain slaying Abel, and Belisarius, both by Salvator Rosa. The latter is an admirable production, characterized by all the wild and gloomy grandeur of its author's imagination. A landscape view is in perfect harmony with the character of the hero, who is represented with an erect form and undaunted brow, treading amidst ruins. There is sublimity in the angry sky, and forests shattered by the storm. The contrast between such a scene and some of Claude Lorraine's soft, sunny, and quiet landscapes, in the same collection, is peculiarly striking. There is not a wider difference between the poetry of Thompson and Byron. Several of Claude's most finished pieces, are in this gallery. For one of them, not more than four feet square, an English nobleman offered $20,000. He is wholly inimitable and in comparable in his department, as far transcending other artists in rural scenery, as Raphael does in portraits.

After dinner we strolled for an hour through the Corso, to look at the living, moving, and busy world of fashion. The display in this street, between 6 and 7 o'clock each evening, is a spectacle worth seeing. Eyes which have slept away the day, then begin to sparkle, and the reign of pleasure commences. A spirit of rivalship in show and luxury, something in the style of the old patricians, still prevails among

the Romans. Many of their coaches, horses, and equipages, are splendid. The carriage of Torlonia the banker, alias the Duke of Bracciano, was observed among the foremost of the glittering throng, drawn by palfreys, and bearing the escutcheons of purchased nobility.

We were this evening honoured with a call from Signor Trentanove, the celebrated sculptor, whose reputation is so well known to our countrymen, as the pupil and successor of Canova. He sat with us an hour, and we were delighted with an interview, which subsequently led to a more intimate acquaintance. He is yet quite a young man, handsome in his person, with a fine forehead, and a keen dark eye. Genius and intellect are very legibly written in the lines of his face. In his manners he is modest, affable, and extremely prepossessing, manifesting great cordiality and kindness of heart. On taking leave, he politely tendered his good offices, and offered any facilities in his power, to enable us to examine the works of art, and other objects of interest at Rome. The sequel will prove, that this act of civility was not a mere compliment, but resulted in many kind attentions and valuable services.

On the following day, we all went to the Palazzo Rospigliosi, standing on the ruins of Constantine's Baths, in the region of Monte Cavallo. In a pretty garden filled with oranges, citrons, and flowers, is a pavilion of no great beauty, the ceiling of which is adorned with the celebrated Aurora of Guido, esteemed one of the finest frescos at Rome. The design is grand, but we were somewhat disappointed in the execution, being unable to discover those masterly touches, which have called forth the admiration of others. A quadrige or four-horse chariot, is driven by Phoebus. The heads of the horses are fine; but the figure, face, and attitude of the god of day appeared to us peculiarly awkward, and unworthy of so brilliant a divinity. If Phæton did not drive with more spirit, no wonder he was thrown into the Po. Just above the fiery steeds appears the Morning Star, in the guise of a Cupid bearing a torch. Round the chariot of the Sun dance the Hours, in the shape of nymphs, seven in number. Their forms are gross and heavy, their legs large, and their arms brawny, forming an odd personification of those winged, aerial spirits, who are supposed to tread with light footsteps, and flit by, almost unperceived. They are clad in costumes of different colours, in which the favourite blue of the artist

predominates. The skies and clouds present a tolerable picture of the mingled hues and reflected blushes of morning. In front of the steeds is Aurora herself, the precursor and guide of Phoebus. She is represented in the form of a beautiful female, flying through the heavens and lighting up the orient with her smiles. It is, on the whole, a pretty picture, defective as parts of it appear in detail.

I was much pleased with a basaltic bust of Scipio Africanus, found at Liternum or Patria, the place of his exile, between Gaeta and Cuma. It is the most striking head I have seen at Rome. The venerable warrior and patriot is represented as perfectly bald, and exhibiting a scar on his right brow. His face is strongly marked with the lines of thought.

LETTER LXXVI.

ROME CONTINUED-NERO'S TOWER-VILLA ÂLBANI—STUDIO OF TRENTANOVE BORGHESE PALACE-EXCURSION TO MONS SACER-CANONIZATION OF A NEW SAINT-SUNDAY IN ROME BORGHESE-FI

SPADA AND

FARNESE PALACES-VILLA

NALE OF THE POPE'S SAINT.

June, 1826.-On the Quirinal Hill, stands the tower on which Nero is said to have sat and fiddled, while Rome was in flames. Vague and improbable as the tradition is, we sought permission to enter, and follow the footsteps of the tyrant to the summit, but were repulsed at the door. The base of the monument is occupied as a nunnery, and of course there is no admission to the cells of the holy sisterhood.

Foiled in this attempt, we made an excursion to the Villa Albani, beyond the Fountain of Termine,* and near the Porta Pia, or Gate of Pius IV. which is one of the most magnificent at Rome. The villa commands an enchanting view of Tivoli and the Alban Mount. Its grounds and gardens are extensive, sloping gently towards the Campagna, and forming one of the most delightful situations in the suburbs of the city. Yet with all these natural advantages, Albani exhibits

*This is one of the finest works of the kind in the city. Its embellishments are peculiarly appropriate, consisting of a statue of Moses bringing water from the rock, and a bas-relief, representing Aaron leading the Israelites to slake their thirst at the fountain.

little taste and few attractions. Its walks are laid out in the most formal manner; its squares and alleys are all rightangled; its trees are despoiled of their native charms; and its fountains resemble the locks of a canal.

Within the enclosure are three edifices, designed merely as lodges, galleries, and places of occasional resort for amusement. The principal edifice is lofty, light, and airy, with a beautiful porch extending the whole length in front, fifteen or twenty feet in depth, supported by à long range of pillars. Its roof is arched, and the pavement is a splendid mosaic, composed of black and white marble. This portico is worth more than all the rest of the building, on which immense sums of money have been squandered. Along the front are semicircular recesses, forming the entrances to the stairways, and ornamented with statues, busts, and hermes. With a few exceptions it is a poor lot of sculpture.

At evening we made an excursion across the Milvian Bridge, and thence down the right bank of the Tiber, along the foot of Monte Mario, to the Porta-Angelica, near the Vatican-a circuit of four or five miles, affording many fine views of the hills, the river, the walls, and the distant towers of the city. For the greater part of the way, the path pursues the windings of the Tiber, the borders of which are rural and flowery. In the summer months this is the fashiona ble drive with the Romans.

On the following day, we visited the Studio of Trentanove. He was closeted with an English lady, who was sitting for her bust; but he requested us to make ourselves at home in This study, if it could afford any amusement. We found it rich in statues, and exquisite specimens of sculpture. Copies of the Venus de' Medicis and the Apollino are worthy of the original in the Gallery at Florence. I was delighted with a group of two children; one with a bird, and the other with its nest. The former is laughing, and the latter in tears. In attitude and expression, both are true to nature. It is a beautiful production, as well in design as in execution, and would form a fine decoration for a drawing-room. We here found a gallery, composed of the busts of our countrymen, from Washington and Franklin down to some of our personal acquaintances, whose faces were instantly recognized. In his general style, Trentanove adheres to the instructions of his great master, Canova, though not so rigidly as to copy his faults. He is an artist of discriminating mind and