The habitable world described: or the present state of the people in all parts of the globe, from north to south; shewing the situation, extent, climate, ... including all the new discoveries: ... With a great variety of maps and copper-plates, ... By the Rev. Dr. John Trusler. ... [pt.16]

Table of contents

- [engravedtitlepage]

- [titlepage]

- NAPLES.

- CHAP X. Of the Two Calabrias.

- CHAP. XI. Of their Amusements, and Mode of Travelling.

- CHAP. XII. Of their Births, Education, Marriages, Physic, Funerals, &c.

- CHAP. XIII. Of their Commerce, Trade, and Manufactories.

- CHAP. XIV. Of their Army and Navy, Constitution, Revenue, Laws.

- CHAP XV. Of their Religion.

- CHAP. XVI. Of their Learning, Arts, Sciences, &c.

- OF THE ISLAND OF SICILY. FROM BUSCHING, BRYDONE, SWINBURNE, NON, KEYSLER, &c.

- CHAP. I. Of the Country, Climate, Productions, &c.

- CHAP. II. Of their History.

- CHAP. III. Of Mount Aetna.

- CHAP IV. Of the Cities, and their Inhabitants, particularly of Messina.

- CHAP. V. Of Palermo and its Environs.

- CHAP. VI. Of the Festival of Rosolia, at Palermo.

- CHAP. VII. Of Catania.

- CHAP. VIII. Of Syracuse, and the chief Antiquities of the Island.

- CHAP. IX. Of the Manners of the Sicilians, their Amusements, and Travelling.

- CHAP X. On their Government, &c.

- ERRATA.

- A DESCRIPTION OF THE ISLAND OF MALTA. FROM DE NON, BRYDONE, AND OTHERS.

- CHAP. I. Of the History, Constitution, &c.

- CHAP. II. Of the Island, its Productions, People, &c.

- [map]

- A DESCRIPTION OF THE POPE'S TERRITORIES. FROM BUSCHING, KEYSLER, MOORE, MARTYN, GROSLEY, SHERLOCK, SHARP, MILLAR, PIOZZI, BARRETTI, AND OTHERS.

- CHAP I. Situation, Extent, and general View.

- CHAP. II. Of the City of Rome.

- CHAP. III. St. Peter's—Pantheon—and Amphitheatre of Vespasian.

- CHAP. IV. Forum Romanum—Triumphal Arches—Tarpeian Rock. Trajan's Pillar, and other Remains of Antiquity.

- CHAP. V. Papal and other Palaces, with their Antique Statues, &c.

- CHAP VI. Churches, Colleges, Hospitals, and general Remarks.

- CHAP. VII. Environs of Rome.

- CHAP. VIII. Amusements and Religious Functions.

- CHAP. IX. People, their Character, Customs, and Manners.

- Error in the Writing to two Plates of Vol. XVI.

THE Habitable World DESCRIBED.

Inscribed by Permission to His Royal Highness Frederick, DUKE OF YORK, &c. &c.

HONI SOIT QUI MAL Y PENSE

LONDON: Published as the Act directs, by the Author No. 62. Wardour Street, Soho.

1795.

THE HABITABLE WORLD DESCRIBED, OR THE PRESENT STATE OF THE PEOPLE IN ALL PARTS OF THE GLOBE, FROM NORTH TO SOUTH; SHEWING The Situation, Extent, Climate, Productions, Animals, &c. &c. of the different Kingdoms and States; Including all the new Discoveries: TOGETHER WITH The Genius, Manners, Customs, Trade, Religion, Forms of Government, &c. of the Inhabitants, and every thing respecting them, that can be either entertaining or informing to the Reader, collected from the earliest and latest Accounts of Historians and Travellers of all Nations; With some that have never been published in this Kingdom; And nothing advanced but on the best Authorities.

WITH A great Variety of MAPS and COPPER-PLATES, engraved in a capital Style, the Subjects of which are mostly new, and such as have never yet been given in any English work.

BY THE REV. DR. JOHN TRUSLER.

VOL. XVI.

LONDON: Printed for the AUTHOR, and sold by J. PARSONS, Paternoster-Row, and all Booksellers.

M DCC XCIV.

NAPLES.

CHAP X. Of the Two Calabrias.

FROM Tarento southward, run the provinces of the Calabrias, which comprise that whole peninsula, called the foot of Italy, from its resembling the foot, as the Terra di Otranto does the heel, and is so called on that account. The country extends from latitude 40, to below 38, and is that part of Naples which suffered so much by an earthquake.

At the mouth of the river Basiento, near Terre di Mare, a town in ruins, built by the Angevino kings, as a safeguard to the coast, are two rows of coarse marble columns, that mark the situation of Metapontum; ten in one row, and five in the other; their diameter, five feet; their height, sixteen feet; the interstices ten feet: they are of the ancient Doric order. These are all the vestiges of Metapontum; a city which, two thousand years ago, stood in the skirts of a plain, twenty-five miles in length, and was in the zenith of its glory. Pythagoras spent the last years of his life here. The Metapontines were warm partizans of Hannibal. He made this city his head quarters; and, in the retreat of the Carthaginians, it was punished by the Romans, for its attachment to Hannibal, with its loss of liberty. This whole district was a colony of industrious and wealthy farmers; and there cannot be a sight more mortifying to the pride of man, than this wide stretched tract of land, almost without an inhabitant, full of briars and marshes, and stagnant pools; and, instead of navigable rivers, in whose deep and capacious bosom, whole fleets might moor with safety, the Basianto road, has the appearance of a straggling torrent; impeded by sand-banks, that shift at every shower, and drive the waters back over half the plain, keeping them there to putrify.

At the wood near the banks of the Agri, eleven miles more to the South, and about three miles from the sea, are some heaps of rubbish, that fix the situation of Heraclea; and near the mouth of the Linno, stood the city of Tyris, founded by the Trojans, and renowned for its college of priests, skilled in cabalistic lore. Heraclea was the place of rendezvous, agreed on by the whole Greek confederacy, where their general interests and disputes were to be settled.

Upper Calabria, says Swinburne, seems decreasing in its number of people; owing, as it is supposed, to the custom of the Calabrians never marrying beyond the limits of their own township. Farms are here let for two years only; indeed, the Baians consider little but their own pleasure, and keep the lands waste, for the sake of extending their chace; so that the peasants, their vassals, have neither room nor opportunity, to raise sufficient food for their support; they fly, therefore, to the convents, and take the religious habit. And the father of a family, when pressed for payment of taxes, and sinking beneath the load of hunger and distress, va alla montagna, that is, retires to the woods; where he meets with fellow sufferers, turns smuggler, and becomes, by degrees, an outlaw, robber, and an assassin.

The women here breed fast, and bring forth their offspring almost without a pain. It is a common thing for a woman, pregnant with child, to go up to the forest for fuel, to be there surprised with the pains of childbirth, to deliver herself without dismay, and fold up her infant in her apron; and, after a little rest, return to her cottage. Che una serva Calabrese piu ama far un figlio che un bucato, is a proverb much in use in the neighbouring provinces; that is, "A Calabrian maid-servant prefers the labour of a childbirth, to that of a wash."

The territory of Rosetta produces olives, capers, corn, safforn, and cotton. The mountains abound with fine oak timber, fit for shipping; and the woods are well stocked with game. Calabria is too hilly to admit of hunting. All game is brought down by the gun, or taken in the net. They have an exceeding good spaniel; so good, that the king has taken pains to increase the breed. The lower parts of the mountains abound with the Ormus, or small-leaved flowering Manna-ash, which grows spontaneously. About the end of July, the manna-gatherers make a horizontal gash in the bole of a tree, inclining upwards; as the liquor never oozes out the first day, another cut is given on the second, and then the woodman fixes the the stalk of a maple leaf in the upper wound, and the end of the leaf in the lower one, so as to form a cup to receive the gum, as it oozes from each cut. All manna belongs to the king, who farms it to a set of contractors.

All live animals in Calabria are taxed; another check on husbandry; three shillings a year are paid for an ox. Arable land is here ploughed four times; the first in May, but the work is badly done. They never lay down their lands with artificial grasses; but a Calabrian farmer thinks he does his farm ample justice, if he lets it lie barren three or four years, and cover itself with natural grass.

The roads through Calabria are very bad; there is but here and there an inn, and at these the accommodations are very poor. Those who travel this country must proceed on horseback, and get recommended from city to city. At Rossaro, Swinburne says, there was an encampment of zingari, or gypsies, who are great thieves. The gypsies of Calabria do not mix with the other people; they marry among themselves. They have no fixed place of abode, but carry their tents with them, and pitch them where they please. They support themselves by little handicrafts; and by swopping, or trucking, asses and horses. Their chief work is in making trivets, knitting needles, bodkins, and the like, in iron. Their dress is poor; they shave their faces, but let their hair grow very long. At their weddings they carry torches, and have para-nymphs to give the bride away. They are accounted to be great pilferers, cheats; and to be faithless, shameless, and abandoned to all manner of dissoluteness. The following anecdote will shew how little they are under the controul of modesty, or fear of shame.

A gang of gypsies assembled at a fair, with an intention of robbing the shops; for which purpose, a proper number of them were dispersed in the throng, to draw off the attention of the people from their property. Some of these men and women went into the adjacent fields, and proceeded to such indecent liberties, as soon brought most of the people of the fair about them, and left their shops a prey to the confident thieves. They tell fortunes, and play juggling tricks, as they do in all other countries where they are tolerated. A gypsey, being brought to Nice for larceny, declared, that his law allowed him to take from others, as much every day as sufficed for his maintenance. They speak here an oriental jargon of their own; and one of the most intelligent among them, being asked, why their nation was a wandering one? replied, they could not remain long in one place, without being over-run with lice. Their propensity to breed vermin proceeds from their excessive filthiness; they sleep like dogs in a kennel, men, women, and children, and take up no more room when asleep, than if in their graves.

In Calabria, all the oxen are white, large, and long horned, except those of the red breed, lately introduced into Sicily. Their buffaloes are black; so are most of the goats, sheep, and hogs. Their hogs have no hair, but are as sleek in their hides as the elephant. Dormice are here accounted delicate game, as they were in ancient Rome, where they were kept in warrens, and fatted for the tables of the epicures. The Calabrian horses are pretty spirited, and brilliant in their motions; but are low, and seldom free from vice; but will travel two hundred and fifty miles in five days, in hot weather.

Croton, the Greek city, whose walls enclosed a circumference of twelve miles, and alone furnished succour to the mother-country, when invaded by the Persians, is now but a small place, and bears the name of Crotone; and no vestiges of the ancient city remain. Near Crotone is an island, considered as the habitation of Calypso, but is a rock scarcely able to feed a sheep.

There are some customs in Calabria, that explain some allusions in Horace. When he says, "Death treads, with impartial foot, the doors of palaces and of cottages."

Pallida morsaeque pulsat peda paupeum tabernas

Regumque turres.—

He alludes to a custom now existing, that of the bailiff kicking furiously at the door of a debtor, or tenant, that refuses to pay, and shuts himself up in his house for safety; which implies, that he means to give no quarter. So Horace means, that death is inexorably bent in exacting the debt of nature. His account of the hardy education, and filial obedience of the Roman youth,

—Rusticorum mascula militum

Proles, &c.

Is still exact with respect to the young Calabrian peasant. After hoeing the ground all day, with no better fare than bread and water, and an onion; he does not presume to present himself before his mother, without bringing her a faggot, or some other wood. His animated description of a mother, longing for the return of her son,

Ut mater juvenem, quem natus invide

Flatu Carpathii, &c.

May still be applied to the Calabrian matrons. If the feluccas do not appear at the usual term of their annual voyage; the mothers, and wives of the sailors, offer up incessant prayers, call on the beloved person by name, and remain at their windows, with eyes fixed on the cape, which the bark is to double. The instant a boat is seen coming round the point, the whole town resounds with joyful cries of Barca! Barca! The boys ring the bells; and, as soon as they can distinguish what felucca it is, run to the relations to claim something to drink for the good news.

Castelvetere, in a lofty situation, three miles from the sea, occupies the scite of Caulon, of which some vestiges are said to exist. Caulon was one of the earliest Greek settlements, but demolished by Dionysius, four hundred years before Christ. Swinburne tells us, that when he was in this neighbourhood, he joined a crowd one evening, that was dragging a woman to church, in order to have the devil driven out of her, by exorcism. She was a middle-aged person, and seemed to be in strong convulsions, which every one supposed to proceed from a demoniacal possession. The priest refusing to attend, some of the assistants grew impatient, and pulled the woman about so roughly, that Beelzebub thought proper to decamp. The patient recovered her senses, got up, and ran away full speed; so that it appeared, there was more roguery in her case, than real disorder. All convulsions of this kind are, however, attributed to assaults of malignant spirits. Near fifteen hundred women, pretending to be thus tormented, go up annually to Soriano, to be cured, by looking at a portrait of St. Dominick, sent down, as they suppose, from Heaven. Under these pretexts, they obtain leave of their tyrannical spouses, to make this pleasant pilgrimage, and a pair of holiday shoes for the purpose; without which they dare not appear before the picture. A priest of that convent, says Swinburne, told me a story of a female demoniac, who, after going through the usual course of cure, was sent to him to confess her sins. Being perfectly well acquainted with the common tricks, he ordered her to give him the true reason of her acting that farce, threatening her in case of obstinacy, with a visit from a real devil, who would torment her in good earnest. The poor woman terrified at the menace, freely confessed; that, having been married against her inclinations to a goat-herd, who stank intolerably of his goats and cheeses, she shunned his approach, and feigned demoniac possession, to avoid cohabiting with him. Having thus got the secret from her, the priest, in hopes of alleviating her misfortune, sent for her husband, and knowing it would be in vain to urge him out of a belief of the devil's being in his wife, planned a different mode of attack, and informed the simple fellow, that he had discovered what particular kind of spirit it was; that this demon was remarkable for an outrageous antipathy to goat-herds, and that no exorcisms could prevent him from plaguing him. The poor man, whose first profession had been gardening, and whose success in the other line of business had not been very great, readily consented to his old way of labour, in order to keep Satan from his house, The friar procured a garden for him, and a chapman for his herd of goats, and soon had the happiness of seeing the married couple well settled, and perfectly satisfied with each other.

It is remarkable that the Albanian dialect, in Calabria, has many English words, bearing the same meaning as with us; as for example, aunt, boor, breeches, breast, car, chimney, chide, cough, crab, door, dream, feather, grumble, hunger, and many others. These people are settled in Calabria, and emigrated from Albanie, only a few centuries ago: they amount to, at least, 100,000, and are dispersed in two hundred villages, or towns; but, many of these settlements are wretchedly poor, and much decayed; those in the neighbourhood of Bova remarkably so. They are a quiet industrious people, and their women remarkable for regularity of conduct. In their dress they preserve the costume of Illyricum, from whence their forefathers came. The most beautiful women are generally given in marriage to clergymen, and are exceedingly proud of their husbands; for, among them, priesthood is the highest nobility. When an ecclesiastic dies, his widow never enters into a second engagement, because none but a virgin can aspire to the hand of a priest, and any other is beneath her acceptance.

Reggio is the capital of Lower Calabria, an archbishopric, and is situated on the sea-coast, at the Southern extremity of Italy, and adjoins the Faro, or streights of Messina. The approach to this place is charming, every cottage of the suburb being shaded with a beautiful arbour of vines, and loaded with clusters of grapes, that produce a very good sort of wine. Oranges, and their kindred fruits, reach great perfection in these plains, which are said to be the first spot in Italy, where their culture was attempted. They are found to be much hardier than was at first suspected; many large plantations thriving at the foot of the Appenines, twenty miles from the sea; where, in winter, there is frost enough to congeal water. The Reggians trade with the Genoese, in essence of citron, orange and bergamot. This spirit is extracted, by paring off the rind of the fruit with a broad knife, squeezing the peel with wooden pincers, against a sponge, and when the sponge is full, it is squeezed out into a phial, and sold at five shillings and sixpence English per ounce.

The country, round Reggio, is a rich delicious garden, shaded by groves, and avenues of poplars and mulberry-trees; divided by hedges of pomegranates, inclosing vineyards and orchards of orange, citron, and various other kinds of aromatic fruits. Copious streams meander through these agreeable plains, and distribute life and vigour to every plant.

The exportation of oil brings into Lower Calabria, half a million of ducats yearly. On each side of the wood, are houses erected for silk-worms, on a particular construction. The windows are long, and not more than six inches wide, to prevent too much air being admitted at a time. When the eggs are about to hatch, these windows are shut, and a moderate fire kept up in the rooms. The worms, as soon as out, are placed on beds of reeds, and there fed with the leaves of the red mulberry-tree. These houses are built by the people of Reggio, who furnish every thing, and take two-thirds of the profits.

Figs here have a fine flavour, and the first, ever seen in Italy, was brought from Sicily, by Dionysius the tyrant, and planted in his garden at Reggio. The hills, that skirt the great chain of mountains, abound with chesnut-trees, producing a very large, sweet fruit, which the people dry, grind, knead into a paste, and use instead of bread.

Between Reggio and Scylla, a silver-mine was opened by the present King of Spain; but, the vein dipping towards the sea, and in a rock, the expences would be more than the profits; of course, it was abandoned.

Reggio can neither boast of beautiful buildings, nor strong fortifications. Of all edifices, the Gothic cathedral is the only striking one. There is plenty of fresh water here; wherever a hole is made in the sands, though within a foot of the sea, fresh water bubbles up. The views all around are enchanting. Messina rises out of the waves like a grand amphitheatre; and the Faro, or streight, lined with villages and towns, seems a noble view, winding between two bold shores. Sometimes, though very rarely, Swinburne says, it exhibits a very curious phenomenon, called La Fata Morgana, as if produced by a fairy, or magician. The populace are delighted, whenever the vision appears, and are seen about the streets, shouting for joy. The philosophic reader will find its causes and operations accounted for, in Kircher, Minais, and other authors. Father Angelucci was the first person who described the appearance with any accuracy.

On the 15th of August, 1643, as I stood at my window, says he, I was surprised with a most wonderful delectable vision. The sea, that washes the Sicilian shore, swelled up, and became, for ten miles in length, like a chain of dark mountains; whilst the waters, near our Calabrian coast, grew quite smooth, and in an instant, appeared as one clear polished mirror, reclining against the aforesaid ridge. On this glass was depicted, in chiaro obscuro, a string of several thousands of pilasters, all equal in altitude, distance, and degree of light and shade. In a moment, they lost half their height, and bent into arcades, like Roman aqueducts. A long cornice was next formed on the top; and above it rose castles innumerable, all perfectly alike. These soon split into towers, which were shortly after lost in colonades, then windows; and at last ended in pines, cypresses, and other trees, even and similar. This is the Fata Morgana, which, for twenty-six years, I considered as a fable.

To produce this pleasing deception, says Swinburne, many circumstances must concur, which are not known to exist in any other situation. The spectator too must be particularly situated. The winds must be hushed, the surface of the Faro quite smooth, the tide at its height, and the waters pressed by currents, to great elevation in the middle of the channel. All these events coinciding, as soon as the sun rises to a certain height, every object existing or moving at Reggio, will be repeated a thousand-fold on this marine looking-glass; and, as the day advances, each image will pass rapidly off in succession.

Tropea is the next city of note, travelling Northward on the coast of Calabria, from Reggio to Naples. It is a bishop's see, containing about four thousand people. It derives its name, says Swinburne, from the trophies erected by Scipio, in his triumphant return from Carthage; or from those of Sextus Pompeius, after his naval victory, off the neighbouring cape. It is situated on the point of a lofty rock, hanging over the sea, and joined to the main land by an isthmus; almost cut through at the gates, leaving only a narrow passage to the town. A little to the North is a large island, kept as a pasture for sheep, and a small one, with a hermitage on its summit, most romantically situated. They have a pleasing effect from Tropea.

The streets of the town are narrow, the houses high, and built of stone, with great solidity. It has two gates; one towards the Nile that rises from the bay; and the other along the isthmus, leading to a high plain; in which there is a pleasant walk near two miles in length, and half a mile broad, between the sea and chain of mountains; so steep and rugged, as seems to cut off all communication by land, with the rest of Calabria. The whole flat, and the sides of the hills, yield grapes, mulberries, olives, pulse, and vegetables; and garden fruit in great plenty. Copious streams rush from the mountain; and, after watering the orchards, are collected into one body, and turn a number of mills. The water is conveyed, in a channel, to the edge of a high precipice over the mill, there received into a stone well, from whence it falls a considerable height upon an over-shot wheel; and, having turned this, is again collected for a second mill in a similar way, and thus turns many, before it reaches the sands. Some of these cascades, as they fall through arbours of vines, and groves of orange-trees, are exceedingly beautiful. The wealthy inhabitants of Tropea reside within the walls; husbandmen, and labourers dwell on the outskirts, on the land they cultivate.

Two miles East of this town is Paralia; a village inhabited by manufacturers and mariners; who make cotton blankets, and carry them in their own barks to Marseilles and Genoa.

Strombolo, a volcano, on an island sixteen leagues West of this coast, on our way to Naples, is continually throwing up flames; and yet the place is inhabited by fishermen, who watch their opportunities, for a quiet moment, to pass along the strand, or they would otherwise be buried under a shower of red-hot stones.

Strombolo is one of the Lipari islands, and a mountain about ten miles round, rising suddenly from the sea, and is more lofty than Vesuvius, only not so conical: in clear weather, it is discoverable at twenty-five leagues distance, at sea; and at night its flames are to be seen much farther; so that the visible horizon, seen from the top, cannot be less than five hundred miles; of course, it is of great elevation. It is wonderful, that this volcano has been continually burning, for more than a thousand years. It is the lighthouse of the whole coast, whose fires are never extinguished. This is the island, supposed by Virgil, to be the habitation of Aeolus. Indeed, all the Lipari islands were called Aeolian. Being full of vast caverns, says Bridone, roaring with internal fires; the poets feigned, that Aeolus here kept the winds prisoners, and let them out at his pleasure.

The forge of Vulcan too has been supposed, by the poets, to be placed in Hiera, one of these islands. Virgil sends him here, to make the celestial armour for Aeneas, and gives a noble description of this gloomy habitation, where he found the Cyclops busy forging a thunderbolt for Jupiter; the account of which is very singular.

Beneath their hands, tremendous to survey!

Half rough, half form'd, the dreadful engine lay.

Three points of rain, three forks of hail conspire;

Three arm'd with wind, and three were barb'd with fire:

The mass they tempered thick with livid rays,

Fear, wrath, and terror, and the light'ning's blaze. PITT.

This island is now called Volcano. All the Lipari islands bring no inconsiderable revenue to the King of Naples. They produce great quantities of allum, sulphur, nitre, cinnabar, and most sorts of fruits; particularly raisins, currants, and figs, in great perfection. Some of their wines are also much esteemed, particularly the Malvasia, well known all over Europe. The isle of Lipari, from which the rest take their name, is by much the largest, and most fertile.

It is bad travelling in the province of Calabria; the post-houses not being obliged to keep more than three horses, travellers find it difficult to get on. The country round Tropea resembles a park, being quite open, but shaded with irregular avenues and straggling clumps of olive-trees, large enough to cut for timber. Monteleone is a considerable town, on the brow of a hill, situated in this open country. The barons castle occupies the highest part, embowered in ever-greens; the town covers the rest of the slope in a very happy manner. The prospects are enchanting, the vales covered with wood, and a fine river winds its way through them: the distant mountains, darkened with extensive forests, and lesser hills at their feet, swelling into view, and intersected by numberless glens, from the bosom of which rises the smoke of many sequestered villages. Monteleone contains three parishes, twelve religious houses, and thirteen thousand people. The scenes, and environs of this place, equal in beauty the most delightful spots in Sicily; and, on the whole, has greatly the advantage over that island in its general aspect.

This country seems to be stocked with swine. Swinburne says, he saw many very large herds, attended by one or two herdsmen, who led them on by the sound of a great bagpipe. He is persuaded, that the present Calabrian swineherds, are the exact copies of the ancient ones; and, that their mode of managing these stubborn animals, has been transmitted down by a regular tradition. The hogs are well acquainted with their herdsman's note; and if, by accident, two or three herds should meet together, the sound of each herd's bagpipe, will immediately separate them.

The Calabrian accent is very different from the Sicilian; being more guttural, and fuller of aspirations.

Paula is a town, on the Western coast of South Calabria, not a great way from the city of Cosenza, renowned for being the birth-place of St. Francis, the founder of the order of Minims. He was a peasant's son, and became the favourite saint, and patron of his native country. The Calabrians have still a great confidence in his mediation with our Saviour; but their mode of applying to him is extraordinary. They approach his statue, with reverential awe, holding in both hands an ass's halter; this they suddenly throw over the head of the statue; and, after fixing the slipknot with a smart pull, repeat their petition, and leave the rope. Swinburne says, there was two hundred pounds weight of rope on his shoulders when he saw it. St. Francis kept a small stock of pigeons, for the use of the infirmary which he founded; and, as they are seldom killed for that purpose, and held as sacred, by all the neighbourhood; these birds have, in the course of near three centuries, increased incredibly, and are great nuisances. Some farmers go so far as to sow plots of ground for them, and this from a selfish view; being persuaded, that these pigeons have too much honour to meddle with any seed but what is allotted them, unless such provision be not made for them.

Cosenza is an archbishopric, the residence of the governor of the province; was the capital of the Brutian state, and of some consequence during the second Punic war. The Saracens reduced it to ashes in the tenth century; but it soon recovered from the calamity. Louis the Third, of Anjou, died here in 1434, and was buried in the cathedral.

It is pleasantly situated, at the Southern extremity of a spacious plain, twenty miles along the river Crati, very broad, and about twelve miles from the Mediterranean sea. The city stands upon seven hills. From an ancient castle, on the highest of the seven hills, the prospect is very grand over the mountains, on three sides, and down the plain on the other.

There is a great difference in the dress and manners of the two Calabrias. The people of South Calabria resemble the Sicilians; and, like them, the men wear bonnets: North of Regliagno, the boundary of the two provinces, hats are universally worn. It has been remarked that the Sicilians, even now, betray strong marks in their character, of their ancient connections with the Africans; and the North Calabrese of German solidity, arising from colonies transplanted there by the Swabian princes; and, in the South Calabrese, the Neapolitans are evident traces of Grecian manners, and turn of mind; but more so in the latter.

Though Calabria is stigmatised with dishonesty, and supposed to be over-run with banditti, they are certainly honest to each other; for their doors have neither bars, nor bolts; and, during the absence of the master, the house is left to the mercy of every passenger.

CHAP. XI. Of their Amusements, and Mode of Travelling.

WE have given some of the amusements of this country, when speaking of Naples, but there still remain some few to be treated of, particularly the Carnival.

The Carnival is a festival that precedes Lent, or the time of fasting; and is pretty general throughout Italy. It begins on St. Charles's day, and continues till Lent. All this time the city of Naples is very gay, with the customary amusements of operas, balls, masquerades, &c. terminating with horse-races in the Strada Toledo; and, sometimes, with a royal masquerade procession of the Grand Signior to Mecca, which is a most magnificent spectacle. The barbarous Cocagna, in which a prodigious number of calves, sheep, hogs, lambs, and poultry, were assembled every Sunday, in carnival-time, to be torn in pieces by the populace, is now discontinued; and, of course, ought not to be related.

There are three Conservatories in Naples, for the education of boys in the profession of music. These furnish a band for the church of Franciscans, morning and evening, during eight days in October. The octaves, indeed, or eight days following the festival of the patron-saint of every church, are a continual solemnity, at which the finest voices, and best performers attend, both morning and evening; and the churches at Naples are so numerous, that the octaves make one continued entertainment throughout the year. At the festival of Corpus Christi, the richest churches engross the whole opera, voices, instruments, machines, and decorations.

To give me an idea of this spectacle, says Grosley, I was told that the santissimo, being carried up on clouds almost to the roof of the church of the Jesuits, descends of itself, for the benediction; making its way through the clouds, which separate; and, receiving in its passage the veneration of angels, and other beings, part of whom leave their stations to attend on it. What can the Greeks think, at the fight of spectacles like these; they, who have no better way of keeping the Eucharist, than in a leather purse, hung up against the wall, in the sacristy of their churches?

The common people of Naples are very devout, or rather superstitious. Next to St. Gennaro, their patron saint, the Madonnas, which are frequent in the streets, seem most to attract their attention. On Christmas-eve they play off fire-works the whole night. Indeed, at Christmas-time, all quarters of Naples resound with Pastorali, or Siciliane; a kind of simple, rural music, performed by Abruzzese, or Calabrian shepherds, on a species of bagpipes. The tunes vary according to the provinces. In the South, they have three different airs; the Northern shepherds know only two; to which they add such variations, as their own genius inspires. The boys learn of their fathers, to play on this instrument, as the means of subsistance. At other seasons, it is rare, says Swinburne, to hear any agreeable sounds in the streets of Naples, though it is the nursery of musical professors. There is no such thing as a national music, unless we give that name to a monotanous, dralling seguidilla, used by the nurses to lull children to sleep, and seems borrowed from the Spaniards, who learnt it of the Moors.

They do not even dance to music, but perform the tarantella, which is a low dance; consisting of turns on the heel, much footing and snapping of the fingers. Indeed, persons of all ranks here dance very low, but mark the time as perfectly with their steps, as other nations do by springing from the ground. The tarantella dance is the delight of their soul, and a constant holiday diversion of the young women.

Bull-baiting is a common diversion; there is a large square at Naples, walled in for the purpose. Hunting is laid aside; but gentlemen, throughout the country, hunt hares, foxes, and sometimes wild boars, with hounds, or lurchers, and sometimes with both. In autumn, fowlers use nets, springes, or bird-lime, to take birds; and in winter, guns. All the country is free to those who buy the king's licence, except some few enclosures, where the barons endeavour to preserve the game. A licence for fowling in the plains of Naples, with bird-calls, costs ten carlines a year; in the plains and woods, twenty-four, and sixty with nets. At a distance from the capital, it is only four carlines. Calabria is too hilly for hunting, all game is brought down by the gun, or taken in nets.

The road, from Rome to Naples, is bad enough, says Sharp, and the inns worse. He travelled in 1765. Nothing but vermin and nastiness in their beds, on the Appian to Brindisi; the road that Horace travelled has nothing in it desirable. The swampy soil and marshes on the right; and the string of barren mountains on the left, for scores of miles together, may amuse, but cannot delight a traveller.

In travelling through the kingdom of Naples, and the ecclesiastical state, an Englishman is struck at the scarcity of villages and cottages; indeed, one may almost assert, says Sharp, that there is no such thing as a village, or even a cluster of houses resembling one. What single, separate houses there are, you see at a small distance from the town; and, as the country is so thinly inhabited, the towns swarm with inhabitants. If any of these labour in the fields, they must travel far for that purpose; but there are multitudes of idle people, who wrap themselves up in their cloaks, and stand pensively and stupid in the streets, from morning to night. On holidays, every soul is in this sauntering attitude.

The towns stand on the summit of hills; and, at some distance, afford a pleasant prospect, being built with stone, and having flat roofs; but, when you enter within the walls, and see the houses so offensively nasty, and the windows not only without glass, but without shutters; the marks of dirty poverty are so strong, as almost to turn the stomach. Some of the inns, on this road, exceed in filth and bad accommodations, every thing that can be conceived. I do sincerely believe, says Sharp, they no more think of wiping down a cobweb in a bedchamber, than our farmers do of sweeping them away in an old barn; and can declare, upon my honour, that was a spider to fall from his mansion, every guest would be liable to receive it in his face as he lies in bed, for the whole cieling is covered with them.

Between the Mediterranean sea and the Adriatic, are many forests, where robbers are said to be continually lurking; and, as an escort, government has stationed certain detachments of troopers, at proper distances, to take travellers and merchants under their protection.

In the months of February and March, says Keysler, who travelled it in 1730, a person must be very expeditious to travel seven stages in a post-chaise, from sun-rising to sun-set; but, in summer, the seventeen stages and a half, between Rome and Naples, are easily performed in two days. For the two chaise-horses at every stage, within the kingdom of Naples, we pay eleven carlines, (three shillings and eightpence English) and half as much for the chaise, if wanted. The goodness of the roads (this contradicts Sharp) the fertility of the country, and the vigour and strength of the horses, make travelling extremely pleasant in the Neapolitan territories. However, we cannot be too careful, that the louis d'ors, or Spanish pistoles, which a traveller brings into this country, be of right weight; for, both at Naples, and on the road, all gold coins are weighed with more cunning than equity, and needless cavils raised, to make them appear to be under weight.

CHAP. XII. Of their Births, Education, Marriages, Physic, Funerals, &c.

THE Neapolitan people, says Bisani, are known by their disposition to rebel. The peasants are vigorous, robust, strong, muscular, full of fire, active, and very laborious; they resemble the Italians only in sobriety. This race of men glory in their descent from the Greeks, whom they resemble. The other class of people are voluptuous to an excess.

Though the Neapolitan gentry are at a very small expence for their tables, keeping little or no company; yet, upon weddings, lyings-inn, and funerals, they are very pompous. Lying-in ladies receive company, in great crowds, the day after their delivery; who, as soon as their compliments are paid, retire to adjacent chambers, forming themselves into card-parties, or converzationi, and are regaled with every dainty the confectioner can furnish. These compliments are continued nine days.

The establishment of a Neapolitan grandee's house, as has been observed, is upon a very expensive plan. The number of servants, carriages, horses, and running footmen, would suffice for a sovereign prince; and the wardrobes of their wives is formed on the same magnificent scale; yet, it is a fixed rule, says Swinburne, that all ladies whatever, be the circumstances of their husbands affluent or circumscribed, have an hundred ducats a month, and no more, allowed them for pin-money, (about seventeen guineas English.) At the birth of every child, the husband makes the wife a present of an hundred ounces, and some valuable trinkets, according to his fortune. In the plains it is customary for a peasant, on the birth of a daughter, to plant a row of poplar-trees, which are cut down and sold, at the end of seventeen years, to make up a fortune for her. The proverbial benediction of Figlij Maschi, i. e. male children, which a Neapolitan gives a woman when she sneezes, is founded on the great facility with which the common people provide for their sons: as soon as they can run about, they are able to earn their bread; while their sisters remain idle at home, or beg till they are old enough to attract the notice of the men.

Swinburne says, that the Neapolitans have tears at command, and are very easily moved to shew them, that neither blows nor caresses can stop their children when once they begin to cry; that they must roar till they are tired; that all nurses have a notion of singing, a monotanous, drawling, sequidilla, by which they lull children to sleep; but that they provided against its wakeful influence, by such doses of Venice treacle, as to render it a material article of importation.

Now I am speaking of nurses, it may not be amiss to tell my readers, from Mrs. Piozzi, that it is a common thing, for the wives of the lower class of men, to suckle the lap-dogs of ladies of quality; nay, many a woman of fashion has fuckled her own dog herself.

Education, says Martyn, has been little attended to. Few people of rank will suffer their children to frequent academies, or public schools, but keep them at home; where in this soft climate they acquire indolence and effeminacy. All literary distinctions have been beneath their rank, and it was not thought expedient to cloud the playful innocence of childhood, or the amiable gaiety of youth, with severe study. The nobility of this country, very seldom travel; and the only dramatic pieces here represented, are operas; in which music, not sentiment, is the principal thing attended to. But, the pains and expence government has been at, in establishing public seminaries; the patriotic effects of the new academy of sciences and belles lettres, and the fashion which begins to prevail, among the nobility, of visiting foreign countries; will, probably, bring on a gradual improvement.

Marriage-portions are not very great in general. It does not cost a nobleman more to marry a daughter, than it does to make her a nun; five thousand pounds will not defray the expence of the ceremonies and profession; she must have a pension settled on her; and reserves, besides, a power over her inheritance, in case she arrives at any dignity in the convent, and wishes to enrich it with buildings, plate, or vestments.

Servants, and artificers of the city of Naples, give from fifty to an hundred ducats with their daughters. Peasants, and country workmen, go as far as three hundred. Females at, or near Naples, are esteemed helpless and indolent, and therefore have always twice or thrice as much fortune as their brothers, who have greater resources in their strength and activity. A girl would scarce get a husband, if her lover did not expect to be re-imbursed, by her portion, for the sum he paid away with his own sisters.

In funeral ceremonies, it is usual to hire clergymen; who, having no patrimony, earn as much by their fees on these occasions, as pays for their ordination; but it is very common, says Swinburne, for them to dress up the vagabonds of the streets, in their clothes, and send them to sing and pray in their stead. These fellows are always attended by a friend, who holds a paper bag with a taper in it, in which they make the taper sweal and waste as much as possible. At the burial of an archbishop of Naples, four hundred friars attended with wax lights; but some thieves let loose a mad ox among them; and, in the confusion, ran away with the candles. At another great funeral, a gang of rogues disguised themselves like clerks and sacristans, and demanded from each assistant his taper, which they extinguished, and carried off with the utmost hypocritical composure.

The manner of burying their dead, here, is very shocking to an Englishman. Their custom is, to carry the corpse, drest in his usual wearing apparel, with his face exposed, on an open bier, through the streets to the church, where the service is read; after which it is stripped, and at a convenient hour, buried: but there is a pride and rivalry among the middling rank of people, in dressing out their children for this exhibition, which is truly laughable. The other day, says Sharp, there passed under my window, the body of a boy about eight years old, whose figure and face were as hideous, as death and the small-pox could make him. The parents had dressed him in a fine laced hat, bag-wig, blue and silver cloaths, &c. and above all things, they don't forget to stick a sword by his side. The origin of this custom I could not learn, but apprehend, continues this author, it was at first designed to prevent foul play. The reality of every man's death, is even evident to the whole parish; and no young spendthrift can spirit away a father, or rich uncle, and fill a coffin with stones, send it to the grave, and take possession of the estate.

Dr. Moore tells us, he met with a similar funeral procession. The deceased was a tradesman, whose widow had bestowed, not only the utmost attention, but more than she could afford, in dressing him to the greatest advantage on this solemn occasion. He had on quite a new suit of clothes, a laced hat on his head, ruffles, his hair finely powdered, and a large blooming nosegay in his left-hand, while the right was very gracefully stuck in his side.

It is the fashion to visit the widow, or nearest relation of the deceased, the day after his, or her death; and this compliment of condolence is also paid, by every acquaintance, before the expiration of nine days.

In all the countries I have seen, says Grosley, there is not a town, Langres in France excepted, where the walls of churches are so crouded with epitaphs, and funeral inscriptions, as at Naples; and they generally savour very strongly of the country: grief expresses itself in epigrams, antitheses, and puns; a diction quite opposite to the stile used by the ancients, on these solemn occasions. Misson has inserted a great many of these epitaphs, taken as they come. The following is one he omitted. It is in a stone sarcophagus, surmounted with a little Bacchus, in a chapel of the Mount of Olives church, and was composed by king Alphonso, the magnanimous, in honour of a favourite, called Mussimo.

Qui fuit Alfonsi quondam pars maxima regis:

Maximus, hâc tenui nunc tumulatur humo.

The burial ground, set apart for English, who die at Naples, says Mrs. Piozzi, is a dirty garden near the city, contemptuously called Buco Protestante; where not less than an hundred Englishmen are annually interred; leaving, on a moderate computation, fifty or sixty thousand pounds each. It is literally a kitchen garden; on which cabbages, cauliflowers, &c. are carried to market, and sold in the city. The catacombs of Naples we have mentioned.

CHAP. XIII. Of their Commerce, Trade, and Manufactories.

NAPLES, by its situation and harbour, has always been the centre of a commerce, which it lies in its own breast to enlarge, and that very considerably; but, notwithstanding its situation, and that no kingdom produces the necessaries and luxuries of life in greater profusion; yet trade is but in a languishing condition; the best silks come from Lyons; the best woollen goods from England.

The following merchandize, says Swinburne, is imported in Naples.

From England—Woollen goods of all sorts, silk and worsted stockings, hats, tanned hides, lead, tin, pepper, hardware, linens, fans, canes, guns, dying-woods, drugs, watches, clocks, mathematical instruments, household furniture, salt-cod, pilchards, herrings, coffee, tea, cocoa, sugar, and occasionally callicoes, and East-India goods.

From Holland—Cinnamon, cloves, nutmegs, pepper, drugs from the East and West-Indies; fine cloths, particularly black, called Segovia; linens, muslins, chintz, callicoes, cocoa, whalebone, tobacco, silk stuffs, and velvet.

From France—Great quantities of sugar, indigo, coffee, dying-woods, verdigrease, Levant drugs, cocoa, hardware, silk-stuffs, gold and silver, sags of le mans, du roy, cloths of Elbeuf, and all sorts of women's apparel.

From Spain—Sugar, cochineal, dying-woods, cocoa, hides salted, and in the hair; American drugs, divers cloths, wine, tobacco, Seville and Havannah snuff, lead, gun-barrels, honey, &c.

From Portugal—Brazil sugars, tobacco, cocoa of Maringan, drugs, hides, &c.

From Venice—Books, cordovans, looking-glasses of all sorts, lustres, coach and window-glasses, Padua cloths, fine Verona cloths, equal to English scarlet; stockings, woollen caps, fine hats, wax candles, white loaf sugar, fine linen, medicinal and Levant drugs; all sorts of paints, sublimate, cinnabar, quicksilver, turpentine, dragon's blood, copper, iron, manufactures of Germany and Brescia, and excellent paper.

From Genoa—American goods from the Spanish main, and the Portuguese West-Indies; velvets, iron in great quantities, nails, common hats; wax, from Tunis and Africa.

From Leghorn—All sorts of second-hand goods from the Levant, Barbary wools, Egypt linens, wax, and many silk manufactures.

From Petersburg—Hides, wax, iron, furs, &c.

From Sardinia—Great quantities of tunny fish, and white cheese.

From Germany—Silesia linens of all sorts, white and painted iron of divers manufactures, Hungary vitriol, Bohemia chrystals, large glasses for coaches and windows; hats, and goods of Vienna fabrick; turpentine, quicksilver, hardware, manufactures of Osnaburg, and Nuremberg; copper, tin-plates, boards, cloth, &c.

The duties, on imports in general, are twenty-five per cent. on the custom-house valuation; sugars and rum pay forty or fifty per cent. on the market price; the duty on sugar produces, annually, about 80,000 ducats.

The exports are, hemp, flax, goat's hair, silk, dried fruits, manna, horses, excellent ship timber, and different sorts of grain. In the city of Naples there are several manufactories of silk, velvets, velverets, handkerchiefs, and stockings. Their soap is much esteemed. They also make liqueurs, essences, artificial flowers, and abundance of macaroni. The best musical strings are made here, from lambs-gut. There is a manufactory of tortoise-shell, which they inlay occasionally with gold, for snuff-boxes, and other articles; and they carry on a considerable commerce in polished marbles and lava's. They are thought to embroider here, better than in France; their macaroni is preferred to any modern Italy; and they have one kind of confection called Diabolonis, a drug of a very hot and stimulating nature, sold at a very high price, four or five guineas for a handful.

The wines of Naples are the best in Italy, and the clergy are the greatest wine-merchants. The wine-cellar, belonging to the Jesuits, if we may credit Dr. Burnet, is a vast vault, that contains above a thousand hogsheads. The people here, from the highest to the lowest, will drink no wine, or other liquors, not even water, if it has not been some time in snow, which they use instead of ice; affirming, that snow cools liquor sooner; and, according to Mr. Addison, a scarcity of snow would raise a mutiny at Naples, as soon as a dearth of corn, or provisions, in another country. There are persons who contract under government, to serve the city at so much a pound. There is a high mountain about eighteen miles from Naples, in which several pits are dug; and here labourers are employed at certain seasons, to roll in vast balls of snow, which they ram close together and cover from the sun; and out of these reservoirs of snow, they cut great lumps as they have occasion, and send them on asses to the sea-side, whence they are carried in boats to Naples, and sold to the several shops at a fixed price.

CHAP. XIV. Of their Army and Navy, Constitution, Revenue, Laws.

THE standing forces, horse and foot, in time of peace, throughout the kingdom, do not exceed 27,000 men; of which 1,700 are foreigners; Swiss, Italians, and Spaniards: a number very insufficient for keeping the inhabitants in awe, on the approach of an enemy. The officers, in the Neapolitan service, says Grosley, are distinguished, from the ensign to the colonel, by the heads of their canes. Their pay is small; a captain having but three hundred dollars a year. No officer can marry without the King's consent, in order to prevent their marrying below their rank; and they say his Majesty is very strict in his enquiries, before he grants the lady the request; for it is she that must ask the permission.

The soldiers seem dissatisfied with their situation, and are always complaining of their hardships; but this is of little moment, the frontiers being too well secured for any of them to escape. One act of humanity, however, in their government, deserves notice; that on deserters being brought back to their corps, they are only imprisoned, and fed on bread and water for a few days; for the second offence, the punishment is heavier, but never death.

Among their regiments there is a corps of light infantry, armed and drest after the fashion of the Catalonian miquelets. Their uniform is yellow; their accoutrements light, and fit for desultory attacks; their persons well chosen, and proper for the duty. This regiment is called Fucilieii di Compagna, country fuzileers, and their office is to patrole the roads, and escort travellers from place to place.

The King has a fleet, as hath been observed, of armed gallies, and a few men of war, but unworthy the name of a fleet; so that the state is not secure from the bombardment of a naval force. The whole navy of the kingdom, says Sharp, may be seen in the port of Naples; for, as magnificent as it may appear to an Englishman, it is much larger than they have any use for. The only purpose for which they employ their ships of war, and frigates, is a cruise against the Barbary rovers, and this happens but rarely. They seem, at last, to have discovered, that gallies are but a poor defence against frigates, and such as English privateers; for which reason, they never fit them out for sea, but reserve them merely as prisons. The following was a true list of their fleet in 1766. Two men of war, one of 64 guns, and the other of 54; two frigates of 32 guns each; four gallies, four galliots, and six xebecks; a formidable army against Lilliput, or their neighbouring potentate the pope.

As the nobility hold their lands by feudal tenure, and were obliged to furnish a certain number of soldiers, it was formerly calculated, that they could bring into the field 100,000 horse, and 150,000 foot; but most of these military services are now turned into rents; and the sovereign chuses to rely rather upon foreign troops, than his own people.

The title of King of both Sicilies was first used in the twelfth century, when Roger II. earl of Sicily, was also king of Naples. The title of investiture, which the pope claims for the kingdom, commenced in the eleventh century, when pope Leo IX. invested count Humphrey, the Norman, and his heirs, with Apulia, Calabria, and whatever he should conquer in Sicily. Though this investiture meant no more, than that the pope wished success to the Norman arms, and pronounced their future conquests lawful; yet, in 1059, it was made more absolute, and the province of the kingdom of Naples, was considered as fiefs to the popedom. The pope now accepts the city of Benevento, from the King of Naples, for the investiture; and sends to Naples annually, a present of a white palfrey, and a purse of six thousand ducats. The King's eldest son is stiled prince of Calabria. The arms of the kingdom is a blue field, interspersed with lilies; or, with a tournament collar of five lappets gules.

Here is one order, that of St. Januarius, instituted in 1728. Its badge is an image of that saint, appendant to a watered carnation ribband hanging from the right shoulder to the left side, and on the left breast a silver cross.

The nobility are numerous, too much so for the extent of the kingdom. There are 119 princes, 156 dukes, 173 marquisses, 42 counts, and 445 barons; all vassals of the crown. Many a spot of land, not worth fifty dollars a year, gives the title of marquis to the owners; so that, in general, they are very poor.

The kingdom of Naples is still governed by laws, which the Normans introduced in the eleventh century, viz. the annual feudal law in all its origin; a proof of its former conquest by the Normans. The peasants, of course, are poor; and it depends entirely on the personal character of the masters, whether their poverty is not the least of their grievances. The court of Naples has not yet ventured, says Moore, by one open act of authority, to abolish the immediate power of the lords over their tenants; but, it is believed, the minister wishes secretly for its destruction.

Though the Neapolitan nobility still retain, as I said, the ancient feudal authority over the peasants; yet their personal importance depends, in a great measure, on the favour of the king; who, under pretext of any offence, can confine them to their own estates, or imprison them at pleasure; or, which is worse to them, can forbid them the court. Unless the king was to affront all the nobility at once, he has little to fear from their resentment. Even in case of such a union, as the nobles have lost the affection and attachment of their peasants; what could they do, in opposition to a standing army of 30,000 men, (some of whom are Swiss) entirely devoted to the crown?

There are a number of state officers in the service of the crown; but men of high birth are seldom here called to the management of public affairs; of course, they live a great deal upon their estates, and these save money, to make a figure occasionally at Naples. The country seats, of the nobility, are castles; with a single wall, or ditch about them, like the gentlemen's chateaus, or seats, in Flanders; sufficient to secure them against a troop of banditti, but by no means capable of resisting an army.

Dr. Burnet says, the clergy are possessed of one-third of the lands of the whole kingdom; the crown, nobility, and gentry, possess almost all the rest. Tradesmen and peasants have scarce any they can call their own; being no better than tenants at will. They manure the lord's lands, plant and prune his vines and olives, and are allowed no more than a bare subsisttance for their poor families. They come for justice to the courts of their respective lords, in all cases that are not capital, or highly criminal; and are, in all respects, subject to these petty sovereigns. As the crown lands pay no taxes, and those of the clergy none, but what they think proper; the charges of government are born chiefly by the nobility and gentry.

The revenues of the Crown amount to about one million sterling per year; and arise from the monopoly of salt, gunpowder, and from excise and different taxes, ports-royal, and an annual free gift of the nobility, clergy, and feudal states. But there is not above eight or nine millions of ducats, current coin, in the kingdom; including gold, silver, and brass; which is not sufficient for the circulation of a very extensive commerce; for, although the notes of seven public banks, established in Naples, circulate even down to the value of the smallest sums; yet the cash for these notes is paid into these banks, as into bankers hands in London, and without interest; of course, this paper money does not increase the quantity of specie circulated, it only saves trouble. These banks take in pawns to an immense value, at stated interests, and lend money on other securities.

All manufactures sent from the capital into the provinces, and exported out of the kingdom, are liable to a duty of sixteen to twenty per cent. and these duties arise annually to 74909 ducats—a ducat is 3s. 4d. sterling.

There is a great scarcity of gold, but much silver, and vast quantities of copper coin in circulation. Gold is so scarce, says Sharp, that I have seen five or six gentlemen, not choosing to carry a load of silver, sit down to cards, and be under the necessity of marking their losings. On the contrary, there is such a profusion of copper, and retail taaders are overloaded with it to such a degree, as to oblige them to make a certain allowance for the exchange. In consequence of this necessity, we see, in the market-places and streets, great numbers of money-changers, who have a little stall heaped up with copper money, which they deliver out for silver to those who want change; and they receive of the shopkeepers, about a halfpenny for every four shillings worth.

The feudal system is here in its full force, it begins with the person of the king, and extends itself through all classes. The kingdom of Naples is a fief to the holy see of Rome; but, since the year 1788, the King has not paid his homage. Many of the fiefs in the two Sicilies, are in the hands of the Venetians, and the Genoese.

The sovereign authority is not unlimited; it is in some measure curbed, by the states of the kingdom, who assemble annually. There are six thousand noble families in the kingdom of Naples only, the great dignities are as numerous as in Spain; and in every town there are inferior jurisdictions. Justice is administered by upper tribunals, in every province, with an appeal to the great court in Naples; even from Sicily itself.

The forms of criminal jurisprudence are here so ill ordained, says Swinburne, so multiplied, and so complex; that, if the king was to insist upon a villain's taken in the fact being tried, and if found guilty, hanged before the end of three days; the dispatch would almost kill the judges with fatigue; for the trial and procedures would employ them full eighteen hours out of every twenty-four. First, the accusation must be laid according to rule, and witnesses examined; next, the counsel for the prisoner pleads a couple of hours; the counsel for the crown one hour; then the counsel for the prisoner, if he pleases, two hours more. This done, every one of the judges harangues. Then all the notifications are made, examinations canvassed, proofs debated, and a thousand trifling formalities observed, which occasion such shameful, unsurmountable delays, as eternise a criminal process. It happened lately, continues Swinburne, that on the final determination of the trial, and condemnation of a malefactor, a messenger was sent to the jailer, to bring the culprit into court, in order to receive sentence; when behold! the turnkey appeared, and made an affidavit, that the prisoner had died of a long fit of sickness, the Christmas twelvemonth before.

As the salary of a judge, in Naples, is only fifty ducats a month (9l. 7s. 6d. English) he cannot afford to be honest, or expeditious; but the case is still worse in the provinces, where the judges have but half the sum; and with that must keep a coach, and proper household establishment. Those who serve warrants, writs, &c. are allowed no pay, though they must keep thirty bailiffs each under them; of course, they are naturally very active in taking up an offender, where there is a possibility of extorting any money out of him; when once in durance, the prisoner ceases to be an object of consideration to them, and therefore they take no pains to forward his trial. There were above twelve thousand criminals, rotting in the different prisons of the kingdom, when Mr. Swinburne was there, whose maintenance cost the state above two hundred thousand ducats a year, (37,500l.).

The plaintiff and defendant are not brought, face to face, before a judge; but the cause is brought on by an attorney, on the part of each; one states the accusation, the other the defence; after this, the judges, by a plurality of voices, determine according to the evidence; of course the delays of criminal causes, become as tedious as those of civil ones.

The prisoners, condemned to the galleys, of which there are generally about two thousand, are chained two and two, and may be thought to suffer by lying on the decks; but their condition is far preferable to that of many of the poor, who lie in the streets. Besides, they have a certain allowance of bread from the king, and wear some cloathing. The galley slaves lead an idle life; whatever work they do a-board, is chiefly for their own benefit; for few of them are employed in cruising. If a taylor, or a shoemaker, earns a few pence, he puts a part of it into his pocket, and purchases some rarity with it. A man, says Sharp, who has visited them as often as I have done, will never, when he means to picture extreme misery, represent it in the shape of a galley-slave. I have seen a musician, on board, entertaining them with vocal and instrumental music, whom they paid for his performance; and I have no doubt, but this poor man stiled those we call wretches, his good masters.

CHAP XV. Of their Religion.

THE Roman Catholic religion, here, is on a very bad footing; and the best that can be said of the ecclesiastical constitution is, that the Neapolitans have always resolutely opposed the introducing of the inquisition. The number of monasteries and convents is astonishing; and the clergy may be said to be all wealthy, but the laity, poor. We have said, that the clergy possess a third of the kingdom; but Giannone, who wrote with such veracity and freedom, on the ambition of avarice, of the Neapolitan clergy, and thereby involved himself in misfortunes, mentions, as a general received opinion, that were the country divided into five parts, four would be found in the hands of the church, as being in actual possession of half the land; and having, upon an average, procured by legacies and donations, a fifth, and a half-fifth more; scarce a person dying, without leaving something to a church, or a convent. Indeed, such is the power and opulence of the clergy, of this country, says Keysler, and the veneration paid them, that more than once they have been ready to seize the civil power. The laity have often, in the strongest manner, petitioned their sovereign, that the clergy should be no longer allowed to purchase lands; but all endeavours were fruitless, till 1751, when measures were invented, for the pope's consent, for lessening the number of convents.

As to external ceremonies, the devotion of the Roman Catholics, here, is not so outrageous as in several provinces of Germany. At the elevation of the host, in churches, protestants are not compelled to kneel; and travellers are allowed to eat flesh in Lent. In this kingdom are twenty-one archbishopricks, and one hundred and twenty-three bishopricks; in 1782, the kingdom of Naples, alone, contained 45,525 priests; 24,694 monks, and 20,973 nuns: the abbeys, priories, commendaries, in the two kingdoms, are very rich, and amount to one hundred and twenty.

The most common procession, which is exhibited almost every day, is not so much intended to create devotion, as to raise a fund for penitent prostitutes; who have quitted their abandoned way of living, and retired to a convent. In order the more effectually to move the spectator to charity, the youngest and most beautiful of these penitents are selected, who are ordered to walk bare-footed, through the city, two a-breast. At some particular places they kneel down, acknowledge their past wickedness, and sing penitential hymns; the ecclesiastic, and a lay assistant, who attend them, in the mean time, receiving the contributions of the public, in a purse fastened to the end of a stick. Their habit, on these occasions, is a violet coloured gown, tied round the waist with a cord of the same colour. Their heads are shaved, but they wear a blue veil, which, however, is thin enough to give a sight of the charms of youth and beauty, as powerful incentives to a liberal contribution.

The Neapolitans have a tendency to Atheism, says Keysler. Molines had a strong party in this city; and many, in their heart, are Jansenists. Naples is the place, of all Italy, where booksellers are under the least restraint; books written by Protestants are openly sold.

At Naples they have a practice, unknown at Rome; and which is meant as a piece of devotional compliment to the Saviour of the world. From the Friday to the Sunday, inclusive, which three days our Lord remained interred in the earth, persons of quality visit in chairs; and those of inferior rank, walk. No carriages are allowed at that time to pass the streets; left, by their clatter, they should disturb our Saviour in his grave. I speak not this ludicrously, says Sharp; there are thousands who believe him at this time in the bowels of the earth.

Among other ridiculous practices which are meant as sacred ones in the holy week; they fasten a man on a cross, and carry him in procession through the streets of Naples. On each side of the cross are two vulgar women, who, with their hair dishevelled, and some gestures of lamentation, represent Mary, and Mary Magdalen in tears. The man, who represents our Saviour, is some poor fellow, who is paid a shilling or two for his trouble; the extension of his arms, for a length of time, being very uneasy and painful to him.

They have even admitted into their devotion, the noise and explosion of gunpowder. I was roused one day from my seat, continues Sharp, by a universal discharge of the whole artillery of Naples; and on enquiry, was informed the guns were fired for the immaculate conception of the Virgin Mary. In truth, the Neapolitans are the greatest gunpowder nation in the world. No merchant sends a few casks of wine into the city, but they are preceded by squibs, crackers, and the firing of musquets; and, during the Christmas week, all the young men, boys, and little children, spend every farthing they can scrape together, in gunpowder; and pop and shoot all day, and all night, to the great annoyance of the healthy, and the disturbance of the sick.

One of the greatest singularities of Naples, at Christmas, is the Presepe; which is a representation of the birth of our Saviour, with all its concomitant circumstances, in small figures. It is exposed either in a suite of apartments, or on the flat top of a house; and, by means of masses, popes, cork, and branches of trees, form an historical landscape. Some of these presepes are pretty enough; they contrive to make the sky, and distant country, a part of it; and optical illusions are wonderful.

The presepe, or presepio, properly signifies a manger; and this is a dedication of the presepio to the virgin and her infant; not only in churches, but in houses. Among the puppets exhibited, we often see the wise men of the East, with the star over their heads, on one spot; the shepherds attending their flocks, with the angel descending towards them, on another. The Virgin, the Infant, Joseph, and the ass, on another. In short, the composer introduces such figures and historical facts into the group, as the new Testament, and sometimes his own fancy, suggests. But what renders this made-picture really an object, for a man of taste, is the artful disposition of the figures, amidst a scenery of perspective astonishingly deceitful to the eye. These are often made at a very great expence, from five hundred to as many thousand pounds, and are always kept up. The poor, if they are not already provided with a presepio, purchase a cheap trumpery one at Christmas, which they lock up with care the whole year; or, perhaps, for their lives.

In time of Lent, fine preachers, from every monkery, travel to distant provinces to hold forth to the public; and Naples is generally visited by some of the best. Mr. Sharp tells us, he was induced to go and hear one or two of them, that were in the highest estimation for their eloquence. Some of the pulpits are a kind of gallery, which admit of great scope for action, running from one end to the other; and injudicious preachers do not fail to take advantage of it. It is the habit of this country, to employ much action and gestures, in the most trifling conversations. This habit infests the bar and the pulpit; and from an indiscriminate application of it, on slight occasions, its force and effect are lost in great ones.

But what gives more offence, is a familiarity of style, which they have introduced into their compositions; when even God Almighty, and our Saviour, are the subjects in question. I went the other day, says Sharp, when the most celebrated preacher was in Naples; this was in 1766; who, among other inelegancies, gave us a familiar dialogue, and in a very familiar manner, betwixt God and Jesus Christ, in which our Saviour begged and prayed that he would not damn mankind; but God being inexorable, and deaf to all intreaty, our Saviour said, "Why then, if your justice must exceed your mercy, be so good to damn me, and spare them. This the preacher told us, God was so good as to comply with. I believe, continues Sharp, I have not mistaken him a jot; because another gentleman, who was present, agreed with me in every particular, word for word; and I was so fearful of misrepresenting the truth, that I immediately committed it to paper.

There has crept also into fashion, an idle custom of telling a story in their sermons; with which they sometimes finish their discourse, as our clergy do with a practical inference. They mean, that the moral of their stories should be a religious one; but their attempts to tell, in the character of a man of the world, often miscarries. A certain Catholic lady, continues this author, informed me, that last year she was at church, when a celebrated Jesuit told the following story: "That queen Elizabeth, so famous throughout the world for her heresy, made a compact with the devil, that if he would indulge her in all she desired, and suffer her to reign so many years, she would surrender her soul at the conclusion of that term." Accordingly, the day she died, there was a great black cloud ascended from the Thames, which drew the attention of an infinite number of spectators; who, at last, heard a voice from the cloud pronounce these words: I am the soul of queen Elizabeth, now going to the devil for the sins I have committed. There is one week in Lent, that most of the ladies of distinction go, every day, to hear a sermon at the Jesuit's church; and it was on one of those days that the preacher told this story to the politest congregation at Naples.

The preachers here have a moveable crucifix in the pulpit, about two feet high, standing close to their elbow. The Christ on it has generally a crown of thorns; and the stream of blood, down his face and breast, are painted with a lively red. At the conclusion of the sermon, or on any other apposite occasion, when the preacher is to set forth the sufferings and agonies of our Saviour, dying for the salvation of the world, he takes the crucifix in his hands, displays the bleeding wounds of the image; and, if he has any pathetic powers, never fails to extort such marks of contrition and horror from the congregation, such knockings on the breast, such an effusion of tears, and sometimes, amongst the women, such involuntary hysterical screams, as Protestants have no idea of.

But powerful as the crucifix usually is, particularly in the hands of an eloquent preacher, I am tempted, says Sharp, to tell a ludicrious story, bordering upon prophaneness, where its efficacy failed. It is one of those instances, where a burning zeal, through a deplorable ignorance, furnishes matters of raillery to scoffers, and compassion to such as are truly religious. At Naples, there is a place called Largo del Castello, not unlike our Tower-hill, the resort of the idle. Here, every afternoon, monks, mountebanks, pickpockets, and conjurors, follow their several occupations. The monk, (for I never saw more than one at a time) holds forth like our itinerant field-preachers, to what congregation he can collect. The mountebank, by means of punch, and his fellow comedians, endeavours to gather as great an audience as he can. It happened one day, that punch succeeded wonderfully, and the poor monk preached to the air, for not a living creature was near him. Mortified and provoked, that a puppet-shew, within thirty yards of him, should draw the attention of the people from the gospel, to such idle trash; with a mixture of rage and religion, he held up his crucifix and called aloud, "Ecco il vero pulcinella." "Here is the true pulchinello; come here—come here." This story is so well known in Naples to be true, that the most devout people tell it; and were it not for such a sanction, I should not have repeated it.

To be more serious, Mrs. Piozzi tells us, that she saw a very odd scene one morning at church; which, though new to her, perhaps, from its frequent repetition, seemed to strike no one but herself.

A lady, with a long white dress, and veiled, came in her carriage, which waited for her at the door, with her own arms on it; and three servants, better dressed than is here common, followed and put a lighted taper in her hand. En cet etât, she moved slowly up the church, looking like Jane Shore, in the last act, but not so feeble; and, having reached the steps of the high altar, threw herself quite upon her face before it; remaining there prostrate, at least five minutes, in the face of the whole congregation; who neither stared, sneered, smiled, nor lamented; but minded their own private devotions (no mass was saying). The lady rose, kissed the steps, and bathed them with her tears, mingled with sobs of an affected penitence; this done, she retired to her seat, where she waited with others, the commencement of the sacred office.

Let not this story, however, continues our fair authoress, lead any one to think, that more general decorum, or true devotion, can be found in churches of the Romish persuasion, than in ours—quite the reverse. This burst of penitential piety was, in itself, an indecorous thing; but it is the nature and genius of the people, not to mind pretenders. Dogs are suffered to run about and dirty the churches, during the whole time of service; whilst the crying of children, and the most indecent methods taken by the women to pacify them, give one still juster offence. In all the churches of Italy, there is no treading for spittle and nastiness, but more so at Naples.

I will conclude these anecdotes of their religion, with the customary miracle of the liquefaction of the blood of St. Januarius, their patron saint, which is kept in two different phials (one holding near an ounce, and the other a few drops) in one of the chapels of the church, dedicated to that saint. Both the phials resemble the ladies' smelling bottles for salts; the larger being a depressed spheroid, like a flat watch-case, of three inches diameter, with glasses before and behind; the smaller, a narrow cylindrical one. They are contained in a gold case, between two circular glasses, of about three inches diameter, supported on a thin pedestal; by which means, when it is held up against light, or a candle placed behind, the spectator sees clearly the bottles, and their contents; which seems to be a congealed substance, not unlike a lump of Spanish snuff. Keysler says, it is of a brownish red, and looks like balsam of Peru, which may be very easily liquified. The pretended liquefaction of the coagulated blood in the phials, when placed near the head, is known to all the world. This farce is acted the first Sunday in May; and on the success, or failure of this miracle, the prosperity, or calamity of the succeeding year, is supposed to depend. As its success, that is, its liquefaction, occasions great rejoicings; so, if the blood remains coagulated, recourse is had to processions, and public flagellations, &c. to avert the impending danger.

On the day when this miracle is to be exhibited, the phials, containing the blood, stand surrounded with a great number of lights. They are applied to the mouths and foreheads of an innumerable multitude of people, who throng to partake of such a blessing; the priest all the while burning it every way; so that, by the continual agitation, the warmth of his hands, the heat from the lights, the effluvia from the crowd, the sultriness of the weather, &c. it is not unreasonable to suppose, a condensed fluid, may be gradually restored to its liquid state. This operation, Sharp says, is generally executed in eight, ten, fifteen, or twenty minutes; but when he was present, it was near an hour and half, it being a very cold morning. Some hereticks, finding how slowly the miracle operated, thought proper to retire, to save their bones from being broke; for the Neapolitans entertain an opinion, that the saint refuses to act when hereticks are present; and as the refusal is esteemed ominous, they have, sometimes, drove them very rudely from the altar. I heard, continues he, a woman declare, that it must be owing to the presence of some Protestants in the churches, that the miracle went on so slowly. The liquefaction in the larger phial was evident; in the smaller, the matter, after the miracle, appeared of a more vivid red. I cannot say it resembled blood very much in either of them. As soon as the liquefaction takes place, the priests cry out, Il miraculo e fatto. "The miracle is done," which is immediately answered by a Te Deum, amid the acclamations of the people, and a discharge of cannon. In 1733, Mr. Neuman, a celebrated chemist at Berlin, invented a method to liquefy coagulated blood easily, at any time; so that, admitting the contents of the phial to be blood, (which most likely is not the case) there is nothing wonderful in the business.

CHAP. XVI. Of their Learning, Arts, Sciences, &c.

THE Neapolitans are far from being deficient in understanding; but, notwithstanding all their schools, universities, and academies, their religion must be a perpetual bar to the improvement and increase of solid literature. Though the booksellers in Naples enjoy more liberty than in other Italian states; yet they are under very mortifying restrictions, says Busching, with regard to the publication and vending of books.

Dr. Burnet, who would not allow the clergy of Naples any great share of learning, observes, however, that there were societies of men in this city, of finer thoughts, than could be found in any other part of Italy.

At Naples, there is a university; several public libraries, and professors, read lectures here on theology, medicine, politics, law, mathematics, physics, history, humanity, and languages. In the two kingdoms, there are four universities, and many academies of science, music, sculpture, and architecture.

With respect to the arts, Naples has been infinitely more happy in painting, than in architects. Lanfranc, Diminichini, Guido, and of the Bologna school; Lucca Giordano, and Massimo.

The architecture of both sacred and civil, public and private edifices, is no longer the architecture of Rome; the outside of most of the churches, even the most stately and splendid, is, all over Italy, only a bare wall standing, as it were, in expectation of a portal. Their churches are ill built, in the form of a cup, with a cupola over the junction; all their gates and doors are loaded with heavy balconies, supported by brackets, heavier than what they bear, or suspended by a miracle. The insides are rather rich and glaring, than fine; and the decorations and distributions every where uniform.

The fountains, says Grosley, in the several parts of the city, bear the marks of the same bad taste; but no where does Neapolitan taste shine with so much lustre, as in the pyramids or obelisks, erected in squares fronting the principal churches. In the monstrous expence of them, in the uncouth assemblage of the various marbles, they exceed all the enormities of Gothic rudeness.

It is universally known, that Naples is the centre of the best music in Italy, and the non plus ultra in execution. It is to all Italy, in music, what Athens was to Greece, in eloquence and philosophy; but its music, like other arts, savours a little of the national fondness for the Capriccioso and the Stravagante.

Naples has, for a long time, been the school and seminary of the best violins; yet, they question their skill, till they have been tried by the renowned Tartini, of Padua, where they flock to covet his approbation. Tartini cooly hears them; and after very attentively listening to what they propose to execute, "That's fine," says he, or, "that is very difficult; that is brilliantly executed," "but," adds he, putting his finger to his breast, "It did not reach hither."

The study of music is so much neglected, says Sharp, at Naples, that I found it as impossible here as at Venice, to have a harpsichord to play on; nor do they ever print their operas or favourite airs.

The Italians count their hours to twenty-four o'clock, beginning the day from the time it is almost dark; so that time varies with them, in conformity to the setting of the sun. For example, if they begin to count from our six-in the evening; when it is seven with us, it will be one with them; and the next day, when it is seven in the evening, it will be a little past one with them; as many minutes as the day is lengthened, To obviate, therefore, this error in time, they alter their clocks and watches, as often as the error amounts to fifteen minutes; advancing, or putting them back, as the days shorten or lengthen. If a man forgets to alter his watch, he loses or gains a quarter of an hour; and, of course, cannot be very punctual to his engagements. There is no man sufficiently learned in this place, to know the origin of this method of reckoning.

OF THE ISLAND OF SICILY. FROM BUSCHING, BRYDONE, SWINBURNE, NON, KEYSLER, &c.

CHAP. I. Of the Country, Climate, Productions, &c.

SICILY is in the shape of a triangle, situated between 37 and 38 degrees, 40 min. North latitude, and between the 12th and 16th degrees of East longitude; being about two hundred and ten miles long, from East to West; and one hundred and thirty-three broad, from North to South; three hundred round; and the largest of all the Mediterranean islands. It was anciently called Sicania; but the Siculi conquering great part of it, gave it the name of Sicilia. It has been held, that Sicily was originally joined to the continent of Italy, but gradually separated from it by the encroachment of the sea, and the devastations of earthquakes. The streights, between Sicily and Calabria, were, by the Latins, called Fretum Siculum; but its common name is, Il Faro de Messina; from Pharus, the light-house at the bottom of Cape di Faro. Opposite this cape, in Calabria, stands the rocky promontory of Scylla, at the distance of about five miles across. The ebb and flood, in these streights, are very irregular and strong; where it is narrowest, between Faro and Sciglio, extremely impetuous. The flux of the sea is much more violent in its descent towards Greece, than in its return upwards. During this descent, there is no stemming the tide, even in a strong southerly wind; so that it is usual to have the vessels hauled up along the coast of Calabria by men; and it is also impracticable for any vessels to cross the current, from Calabria to Sicily. Mr. Popowitsch conceives, that this rapidity proceeds from the course of the waters issuing out of the Atlantic ocean, into the Mediterranean, which directly bear upon this part of Calabria. It is, therefore, natural to think, that it is this direct impulse of the sea, on the coast of Calabria, which among the ancients, raised such terrifying ideas of Cape Scylla, or Sciglio; for, till experience had shewn how to avoid the danger, ships were often driven against this promontory, and dashed to pieces. This rock is near two hundred feet high, has a large castle on its summit; and from it a line of houses extends, on both sides, in a slope, to the beach, semicircular, planted with trees, and sheltered with very high clifts; containing three or four hundred inhabitants; and gives the tide of prince, to a Calabrese family. There are many small rocks that shew their heads, at the base of the large one; and are, probably, the dogs, that are described as howling round the monster Scylla.

The whirlpool Charybdis, which was once supposed to be an abyss, into which the waters precipitated themselves, is a kind of vortex, arising from the currents of the sea, at particular winds, opposing each other. In a calm, and when the South wind does not blow, this place is so smooth, that a boat may cross it with safety. It lies close on the outside of the harbour of Messina. Vessels in this passage, are obliged to go as near as possible to the coast of Calabria, to avoid the suction occasioned by the whirling of Charybdis; that when they come to the narrowest and most rapid part of the streights, they are in danger of being carried on the rock of Scylla. From whence the proverb, still applied to those, who, in attempting to avoid one evil, fall into another.

Incidit in Scyllam, cupiens evitare Caribdem.

There is a fine fountain of white marble on the key of Messina, representing Neptune holding Scylla and Charybdis chained, under the emblematical figures of two sea monsters, as represented by the poets.

Sicily is so hot a country, that even in the beginning of January, the shade is refreshing; and it is only for a few months, in March, &c. that any chilling winds are felt, and even then a little fire suffices to banish the cold. The only appearance of winter, is toward the summit of Mount Aetna; where snow falls, and where it is preserved for use in the following manner. Pits are dug in the open air; and in these they lay the snow, with straw or stubble, and salt. Stratum super stratum, layer upon layer, and then cover the place with earth. In summer, when wanted, one of these pits are opened on one side, and the snow being taken out, the hole is again closed.

The hot sirroc winds are as powerful here as at Naples. Though the island appears to be one entire rock, the soil is exceedingly fertile. Anciently it was stiled the granary of Rome; and now it exports great quantities to Naples, which would otherwise be distressed. It is, however, far from being well cultivated; several tracts on the western side lying waste. Its wine is excellent, as are also all fruits, together with honey, oil, salt, saffron, and sugar; which last is produced in the neighbourhood of Mount Aetna. All the coasts afford good fisheries, particularly for •unny; the cattle are fine, and all sorts of game in plenty. Great profits are made here of silk, where it was introduced in 1130, from the Holy Land, and hence soon spread to Naples, Spain, and the French provinces bordering on Italy. In this island are also found gems, or marble stones; metals and minerals, as gold, silver, copper, tin, lead, iron, allum, and a variety of hot baths, and medicinal springs.

Many of their springs are boiling hot; others still more singular, are colder than ice, and yet never freeze.

In several places, they have fountains, that throw up a kind of oil on their surface, which the peasants burn in lamps, and use for many other purposes. There is still one more remarkable at Nicosia, called Il fonia Canaletto. This is covered with a thick scum, like pitch, which the country people esteem a sovereign remedy in rheumatic, and other complaints.

The water of a small lake, near Naso, is celebrated for dying every thing, put into it, black; though the water is remarkably pure and transparent. They have a variety of sulphureous baths, where the patient is thrown into a profuse sweat, only from the heat of the vapour. About a mile and a half from Palermo, at a small beach where the people go to swim; there are many springs of warm water, that rise even with the sea, at the depth of five or six feet.

Brydone is of opinion, that not only Mount Aetna, but the greatest part of Sicily, and almost the whole of the circumjacent islands, have been originally formed by subterraneous fire; from the distant hot springs, and from throwing lava, pumice, and tuffa, at a great distance from Aetna.

At Trapany is a considerable coral-fishery; in short, whatever seems requisite in point of necessity, delight, or ornament, this country affords in such a liberal manner; that the inhabitants, notwithstanding how much it is burdened by their viceroys, live at their ease and grow rich.

The great standing commodity, as I have observed, is wheat. They preserve their grain, not by exposing it to the air, as we do, but by shutting it up in pits, or where the soil is dry, or in caverns in the rock. These open by a small hole at top, and widen below; here they pour down their wheat, after it has been made exceedingly dry; and, ramming it hard, they cover up the hole, to protect it from rain; and assure us, it will preserve in this manner for many years.

The soda is a plant much cultivated here, and turns out to good account. This is the vegetable, that by the action of the fire, is afterwards converted into mirrors and chrystals. Great quantities are sent annually to Venice, to supply the glass-houses. Their honey is delicious, even superior to that of Minorca. It is found by the peasants in the hollows of trees, and rocks. The sugar-cane thrives well here, and they make sugar enough for home-consumption. Liquorice juice is preferred both here and in Calabria. The juice is squeezed out of the roots; after which it is boiled to a consistency, and formed into cakes, which are packed up with bay-leaves, and exported in the same order as we receive them.

In some of the Northern parts of the island, they find shell-fish, that produces a kind of flax, of which gloves and stockings are made. This is the muscle, found in great quantities at Tarentum.

The pistachio nut is much cultivated here, and with great success. These trees, like many others, are male and female; the male is always barren; but, unless a quantity of these are mixed in every plantation, the pistachio-tree never bears a nut. But of all the variety cultivated in Sicily, the manna-tree is esteemed the most profitable. It is a kind of ash, and resembles it much. About the beginning of August, during the greatest heat, an incision is made in the bark near the root, and a thick, whitish liquor is immediately discharged from the wound, which soon hardens in the sun; when it is carefully taken off, and and gathered into boxes. They renew these incisions every day during the season; wounding the tree on one side only, reserving the other side for the next year.

The cantharides fly is a Sicilian commodity, found on several trees of Aetna.

The marbles of Sicily would be a great source of opulence, if the quarries were encouraged; at Centorbi, they have a kind of soft stone, that dissolves in water, and is used to wash linen instead of soap, from which property it is called Pietra Saponaro; soapy stone. They likewise find here, as well as in Calabria, the celebrated stone, which, on being watered, and exposed to a pretty violent degree of heat, produces a plentiful crop of mushrooms: but, it would be endless to give an account of all the various commodities, and curious productions of this island. It is also well watered; for it has five principal rivers.

CHAP. II. Of their History.

SICILY has had many masters, and being classic ground, it may not be unentertaining to our readers, to have a short sketch of its history. This island was invaded by the Greeks, six or seven centuries before the birth of Christ, and they became blended with the natives. Aristocracy prevailed first; tyranny succeeded, under Phalaris os Agrigentum, six hundred years before Christ; and democracy followed. Syracuse went to pieces by dissention, and their arts and sciences fell before it. Soon after the settlement of the Grecians; the Carthaginians, from Africa, invaded it with large bodies of forces; and, about five hundred before Christ, made themselves masters of all the Western parts. The old inhabitants, the Siculi, kept the midland county, and the Greeks the eastern coasts.

Dionysius, the elder, had the supreme command at Syracuse. Avarice, despotism, and cruelty, marked his reign; and his son, Dionysius, the younger, succeeded him, who was the greater tyrant of the two▪ Agathocles, a tyrant, however, seized the throne, and deluged the country with blood. This man, at war with the Carthaginians, drove them off his coast, followed them to Africa, routed them in a pitched battle, burnt their fleet, and laid their territory waste. But the Sicilian forces were men of no principle; murder, and riot ensued upon the victory. They murdered the friends and children of their king; he escaped to Sicily, and there met a death which his crimes deserved.

Pyrrhus, king of Epirus, now took the lead, reduced all parties to obedience; but, making Sicily feel the weight of his hand, the Sicilians soon drove him out. At this time, a crew of miscreant Romans took Messina, slaughtered the inhabitants; eslablished a republic there, and became troublesome to Hiero II. whom the Greeks raised to the chies command at Syracuse. He leagued with Carthage to turn out the Romans; but, being assisted from Italy, defeated the Carthaginians, and Hiero became an ally of the republic. This began the first punic war.[*] Hamilcar Barcas long supported the African cause; but, not succceding to his wishes, led the Carthaginians to purchase peace of the prince of Sicily. This did for some time; but the vanquished party gaining strength, Hannibal, Hamilcar's son, persuaded them to renew the combat; and for sixteen years carried war into the heart of the Roman territories. This was the second punic war. Hiero, of Syracuse, kept terms with both parties; but, being succeeded by his grandson Hieronymus, who contracted an alliance with Carthage, he soon fell a victim to his own folly. Syracuse was now independent; but Marcellus soon after besieged it, under the advice of Archimedes, and took it.

From this time, Sicily relinquished all martial ideas, for many generations; the people turned their thoughts to peace and agriculture, till, in 827, the Saracens subdued the country, and chose Palermo for their capital, and the standard of Mahomet triumphed for about two hundred years.

In 1038, George Maniaces was sent with great force, by the Greek empire, to attack Sicily. He did this, in conjunction with some Norman troops, whom he took into pay, and succeeded. Robert and Roger, Normans of Hauteville, afterwards conquered Sicily on their own account. After a ten years struggle, the Saracens yielded it up in 1072, and Robert ceded it to his brother Roger, who assumed the title of Great
JOHN of PROCIDA

Earl of Sicily. He was succeeded by Simon, his eldest son, and Simon by Roger, in 1127, who called himself king. Hence the kingdom descended, from son to son, till the reign of William III. who was vanquished by Henry of Swabia. Thus, it continued with the Germans, till after the battle of Benevento, when it submitted to Charles of Anjou; and, for several years, obeyed him; notwithstanding the wanton cruelty with which they were treated. But, a day of retribution came at last; Sicily had been revenged, for twelve years, by as many tyrants, as it contained Frenchmen; no redress could be obtained, nor hope left of future indulgence. Their best appeal, therefore, was a dagger. John of Procida, with the connivance of the Greek emperor, and the king of Arragon, son-in-law to Manfred, who had been king of Sicily, encouraged the growing ferment; and, on Easter-Monday, 1282, at the Vesper-bell, the people of Palermo rose, and slew every Frenchman they could find; man, woman, and child. Their example was followed by the whole island; not a French person was left living. No pardon could be expected from Charles. The insurgents, therefore, offered the crown to Peter I. king of Arragon, who defended, and kept it. In his family it continued till 1469, when the line of Arragon becoming extinct, it fell to Ferdinand I. of Castile. With this family it continued, till the death of John, king of Navarre; and, at the peace of Utrecht, it was ceded to Victor, duke of Savoy.

Not many years afterwards, the emperor Charles VI. forced him to relinquish Sicily, and take that of Sardinia in lieu of it: but, as the Spaniards had no concern in these bargains, they made a sudden attempt to recover Sicily; in this they failed, owing to the vigilance of the English admiral, Byng, who destroyed their fleet in 1718.

In 1734, the Spaniards resumed their design with success. The infant, Don Carlos, drove the Germans out, and was crowned king of the two Sicilies, at Palermo: this kingdom being ceded to him, on condition it was never united to Spain. When he took the crown of Spain in 1759, he transferred that of Sicily to his second son, Ferdinand the Third of Sicily, and Fourth of Naples; his eldest son being an idiot, and established the succession to the heirs male of Ferdinand, and his younger brother; and, in default of male issue, to the females.

CHAP. III. Of Mount Aetna.

THE principal mountain is Aetna; a volcano, that appears at sea, when first discovered, as a prodigious chimney, or a very large rugged pillar. The perpendicular height, to the the top, is between two and three miles; some have imagined it more, and some rather less.

The whole mountain is divided into three distinct regions; the fertile, the woody, and the barren. These three are as different, both in climate and productions, as the three zones of the earth. The fertile region surrounds the foot of the mountain, and is rich in the extreme, to the extent of about fourteen or fifteen miles, where the woody region begins; being composed almost entirely of lava; which, after a number of ages, is, at last, converted into the most fertile of soils. From Catania, to Nicolesi, twelve miles up the mountain; though its perpendicular elevation is not, probably, more than three thousand feet; the climate, says Brydone, who ascended it in 1770, was totally changed. It was at the latter end of the month of May; and, at Catania, the harvest was entirely over, and the heats insupportable. Here they were more moderate; and, in many places, the corn is as yet green. The road up was very bad, over old lavas, and mouths of extintinguished volcanoes, now converted into corn-fields, vineyards, and orchards. The fruit of this region is reckoned the finest in Sicily, particularly the figs.

The lavas, forming this region of the mountain, have thrown up an infinite number of beautiful little mountains; every where scattered on the immense declivity of Aetna, all of a regular figure, and almost covered with beautiful trees, and the richest verdure. Each of these mountains has been transformed by one irruption, and, perhaps, in the course of a few days; in the irruption of 1669, the stones and ashes, thrown out for months, formed a mountain of a great size, seven or eight miles round, and a thousand feet in perpendicular height; other mountains are not above three or four miles round, and three or four hundred feet high.

The progress of an irruption is as follows. The mountain, after shaking for vent, bursts open, somewhere in its side. At first, it only sends forth thick smoke, and showers of ashes, that lays waste the adjacent country. These are soon followed by red-hot stones, and rocks of a great size, thrown to an immense height in the air. The fall of these stones, with the ashes, form the mountains mentioned. After the new mountain is formed, the lava generally bursts out, from its lower side, and braving every thing before it, is generally terminated by the sea. It sometimes happens, though rarely, that the lava bursts out at once, from the side of the mountain, without all these attendant circumstances, as is the case with Vesuvius; where, the elevation being so much smaller, the melted matter is generally carried up into the crater of the mountain, discharging showers of stones and ashes from the mouth; without forming any new mountain, only adding considerably to the old one. At last, the lava, rising near the summit, bursts the sides of the crater, and runs down in an ocean of liquid fire. Aetna, being on a much larger scale, one crater is not enough to give its lava vent.

Brydone was well assured, by a person of credit, that he saw, in an irruption of Aetna, large rocks of fire discharged to the height of some thousand feet, with a noise more terrible than that of thunder. This person took notice, that from their greatest height of these rocks of fire, till they reached the ground, it was twenty-one seconds of time; which, according to philosophic measurement, must have been upwards of seven thousand feet.

We cannot pretend to follow Mr. Brydone, through all his description of this mountain. Those who wish for more information must have recourse to his tour through Sicily and Malta; but we will mention some of the most curious particularities. The country of Hybla, celebrated for its honey, was overwhelmed by an irruption; it was called Mel Passi; but, when overwhelmed, became barren, and was called Mal Passi. In a second irruption, by a shower of ashes on it, it was again rendered fertile, and its name was then changed to Bel Passi; but, in the great volcanic irruption of 1669, it was laid under an ocean of fire, and reduced to the utmost state of barrenness, and has since been called Mal Passi. The lava, however, in its course over this beautiful country, has left several little islands, or hillocks, uncovered; just enough to shew what it formerly was. These make a singular appearance, in all the bloom of luxuriant vegetation, surrounded, and rendered almost inaccessible, by large fields of black and rugged lava, that issued from a mountain not more than three hundred feet high, first formed itself by an irruption of Aetna.

Massa says, that in some irruptions of Aetna, the lava has poured down with such a sudden impetuosity; that, in the course of a few hours, churches, palaces, and villages, have been melted down, and the whole run off in fusion, without leaving the least mark of their former existence: for, these churches and villages having been built with lava, it is the property of such matter, to melt down instantly, on being over-run with other melted lava, and thus mingle in the general fusion.

The great irruption of 1669, after shaking the whole country round for four months, and forming a very large mountain of stones and ashes, burst out about a mile above the mountain Montpeliere, then below it; and, descending like a torrent, bore directly against the middle of that mountain; and, as they pretend, perforated it from side to side: however, it is certain, it pierced it very deep. It then divided into two branches; and, surrounding this mountain, joined again on its south side, laying waste the whole country, between that and Catania; scaled the walls of that city, and poured its flaming torrent into the ocean. In its way, it is said to have destroyed the possessions of thirty thousand people, and reduced them to beggary; it formed several hills, where vallies were before, and filled up a large lake. Among other singular circumstances, says Brydone, the following is well ascertained.

A vineyard, belonging to a convent of jesuits, lay directly in its way. This vineyard was formed on an ancient lava, probably a thin one, with a number of caverns and crevices under it; the liquid lava entering into these caverns, soon filled them up; and, by degrees, tore up the vineyard; and the jesuits, who every moment expected to see it buried, beheld, with amasement, the whole field begin to move off. It was carried, on the surface of the lava, to a considerable distance: though the greatest part was destroyed, yet some of it remains to this day.

There is a great wildness, ferocity, and credulity, in the inhabitants of this mountain; they conceive the crater of Aetna, to be the mouth of hell. They, thinking, says Brydone, that we were come to look for hidden treasures, flocked round me, and watched every bit of stone I took up; seemed to entertain a bad opinion of the English, considering them as heretics, deserving of damnation; and gave me to understand, that the English had a queen, Anne Boleyn, who was wife to a Christian King; that she made a heretic of him, and was, in consequence, condemned to burn for ever in Mount Aetna. I asked them, if her husband was there too, for he deserved it much better than she. Sicuro said, they are safe enough, and all his heretic subjects; and, if you are of that number, you need not be in such a hurry to get there; you will be sure of it at last.

On leaving Nicolesi, and in an hour and a half travelling over barren ashes and lava, we arrived on the confines of the woody region, or temperate zone. As soon as we entered these delightful forests, we seemed got into another world. The air, which was before sultry and hot, was now cool and refreshing, and every breeze was loaded with a thousand perfumes; the whole ground being covered with the richest aromatic plants. Many parts of this region are, surely, the most heavenly spots upon earth; and, if Aetna resembles hell, it may, with equal justice, be said to resemble paradise without.

It is, indeed, a curious consideration, that this mountain should re-unite every beauty, and every horror; but, our astonishment encreases, in casting our eyes on its higher regions. There we behold in perpetual union, the two elements that are at continual war, an immense gulph of fire, for ever existing in the midst of snows, which it has not power to melt; and immense fields of snow and ice, for ever surrounding this gulph of fire, which they have not power to extinguish.

The woody region ascends for about eight or nine miles, forming a girdle of the brightest green all round the mountain. Brydone, and his company, in the course of one night, got about half through, and reached, before sun-set, a large cave; where they lodged. It was surrounded with stately and majestic oaks; they kindled a fire, and made comfortable beds of the dried leaves. The thermometer, which was at 71, at Nicolesi, now fell below 60. The barometer stood at 24. 2.

Not a great way from this cavern, are two of the most beautiful mountains that spring from Aetna. I mounted a mule, and rode to the top of one of them, a little before sun-set. The prospect of Sicily, with the surrounding sea, and its islands, was wonderfully noble.

The next day we scrambled, on foot, seven miles, over the barren regions, or frigid zone, till we reached, a little before break of day, the ruins of an ancient structure, called the philosopher's tower; supposed to have been built by the philosopher Empedocles, who took up his habitation here, the better to study the nature of the mountain. The mercury here fell to 20. 6. we had now time, says Brydone, to pay our adorations, in silent contemplation of the sublime objects of nature. The sky was clear, and the immense vault of the heavens, appeared in awful majesty and splendor. We found ourselves more struck with veneration than below; the number of stars seeming to be infinitely increased, and the light of each appeared brighter than usual; the whiteness of the milky way was like a pure flame, that shot across the heavens; and, with the naked eye, we could discern clusters of stars, invisible in the regions below. We were amazed at the distinctness of vision, not recollecting that we had now passed through ten or twelve thousand feet of gross vapour, that blunts and confuses every ray, before it reaches the surface of the earth. We took notice of several of these meteors, called falling stars; which seemed as much above, as they do when standing on the earth below.

In about an hour's climbing, we reached a place where there was no snow; and where a warm, and comfortable vapour issued from the mountain, which induced us to halt. The mercury here was at 19. 6 ½. The thermometer three degrees below the freezing point; and, before we left the summit of Aetna, it fell two degrees more, to 27. From that spot, it was only about three hundred yards to the highest summit; where we arrived in full time, to see the most wonderful, and most sublime sight in nature.

Description must ever fall short; for no imagination has dared to form an idea, of so glorious, and so magnificent a scene; nor is there on the surface of the globe, any one point, that unites so many awful and sublime objects.—The immense elevation, from the surface of the earth; drawn, as it were, to a single point, without any neighbouring mountain, for the senses and imagination to rest on, and recover from their astonishment, in their way down to the world: this point, or pinnacle, raised on the point of a bottomless gulph, as old as the world; often discharging rivers of fire, and throwing out burning rocks, with a noise that shakes the whole island. Add to this, the unbounded extent of the prospect, comprehending the greatest diversity, and most beautiful scenery in nature; with the rising sun, advancing in the East, to illumine the wondrous scene.

The whole atmosphere, by degrees, kindle up, and shew, dimly and faintly, the boundless prospect round. Both sea and land look dark and confused, as if only emerging from their original chaos; and light and darkness seem still undivided; till the morning, advancing by degrees, completes the separation. The stars are extinguished, and the shades disappear. The forests, which till now, seemed black and bottomless gulphs; from whence no ray was reflected, to shew their form or colours, appear a new creation, rising to the sight, catching life and beauty from every increasing beam. The scene still enlarges, and the horizon widens and expands around; till the sun, like the Creator, appears in the East; and, with his plastic ray, completes the mighty scene.—All appears enchantment, and it is with difficulty we can believe that we are still on earth. The senses, unaccustomed to the sublimity of such a scene, are bewildered and confounded; and it is not till after some time, they are capable of separating and judging of the objects that compose it. The body of the sun is seen rising from the ocean; immense tracks, both of sea and land, intervening. The islands of Lipari, Panari, Alicudi, Strombolo and Volcano, with their smoaking summits, appear under your feet; and you look down on the whole of Sicily as on a map, and can trace every river, through all its windings, from its source to its mouth. The view is absolutely boundless on every side; nor is there one object within the circle of vision to interrupt it, so that the sight is every where best in the immensity; and I am persuaded, continues Brydone, it is only from the imperfection of our organs, that the coasts of Africa are not discovered; as they are certainly above the horizon. Could the eye see so far, the distance of two thousand miles would be discoverable, from the top of Aetna. At Malta, which is near two hundred miles, they perceived the irruptions from the second region of Aetna; and that island is often discovered when we are half-way up the mountain. Massa, a Sicilian writer, says, that the African coast, as well as that of Naples, with many of its islands, have been seen from the top of Aetna.

The circumference of the great circle of Aetna, that is, of the woody part that surrounds it, is not less than seventy or eighty miles; and the circumference of the mountain at bottom, according to Recupero, is an hundred and eighty-three miles.

The present crater, at the top of this immense volcano, is a circle of about three miles and a half. It goes shelving down on each side, and forms a regular hollow, like a vast amphitheatre. From many places, of this space, issue volumes of sulphureous smoke; and, immediately on clearing the crater, rolls down the mountain side like a torrent; till reaching that part of the atmosphere, of equal gravity with itself, it shoots off horizontally, and forms a large track in the air, according to the direction of the wind. We did not attempt to go down into the crater; in the centre of which is the great mouth of the volcano. We looked down, and beheld it with awe and horror, and were not surprised, it had been considered as the place of the damned. When we reflect on the immensity of its depth, the vast cells and caverns, whence so many lava have issued; the force of its internal fire, to carry up these lavas so high into the air, with all the dreadful accompaniments; the boiling of the matter, the shaking of the mountain, the explosions of the flaming rocks, &c. we must allow, that the most enthusiastic imagination, in the midst of all its terrors, hardly ever formed an idea of a hell more dreadful.

Empedocles was a native of Agrigentum, and is supposed to have died four hundred years before the Christian aera. Perhaps his vanity, more than his philosophy, led him to have erected the philosopher's tower; nay, it is said to have carried him still farther; that he might be considered as a god, and that the people might suppose he was taken up to heaven, he is recorded to have thrown himself headlong into the great gulph of Mount Aetna, never supposing his death could be discovered to mankind; but the treacherous mountain threw out his slippers, which were of brass, and announced to the world the fate of this philosopher.

We left the summit of the mountain at six in the morning, and it was eight at night before we reached Catania. On first entering the forests, the trees were still as bare as in December; but, after we had descended a few miles, we found ourselves in the mildest, and sofest of climates; the trees in full verdure, and the fields covered with all the flowers of summer; but, as soon as we got out of the woods, and entered the torrid zone below them, we found the heat insupportable, and suffered dreadfully before we reached the city.

The productions of the island are numberless, some of which I shall mention by and by; but Aetna alone affords a greater variety, than many of the most extensive kingdoms; and is, not less an epitome of the whole earth, in its soil and climate, than in the variety of its productions. Besides the corn, the wine, the oil, the silk, the spice, the delicious fruits of its lower region; the beautiful forests, the flocks, the game, the tar, the cork, the honey, of its second; the snow and ice of its third; it affords, from its caverns, a variety of minerals, as cinnabar, mercury, sulphur, allum, nitre, and vitriol; so that this wonderful mountain produces every necessary, and every luxury of life.

We are not then to be surprised at the obstinate attachment of the people to this mountain; and that all its terrors have not been able to drive them away from him; for, though he sometimes chastises, he mixes such blessings with his chastisements, that their affections can never be estranged; for, at the same time, that he threatens with a rod of iron, he pours down upon them all the blessings of the ape of gold.

Swinburne describes the remarkable large chesnut-tree, in the first region of Aetna, called, from its astonishing size, Castagno di cento cavalli, as supposing it capable of sheltering a hundred horse under the canopy of its boughs. It stands single, on a gentle rising; the ground round it, an open pasture. Its height has been diminished, by cutting the tops of its branches, to encrease its bearing. It appears to be a group of trees; but is, in fact, an old trunk split down to the surface of the earth, but united in one body at a very small depth below. Its circumference, one inch from the ground, is one hundred and ninety-six English feet. From this trunk rise five divisions; each of which sends forth enormous branches. The outer surface of these divisions, or stems, are covered with bark; the inner surface has no bark, and they all turn towards a common centre; a proof that all these stems were once united. Between two of the stems, two coaches may drive a-breast; and, in the centre of the five is built a hut, where the fruit of the tree is deposited. It is a wonderful production of the vegetable kingdom.

CHAP IV. Of the Cities, and their Inhabitants, particularly of Messina.

SICILY consists of three provinces, which are called Vallies, and has two principal cities, Palermo and Messina. Syracuse was anciently the capital, and a very flourishing republic; but is, at present, extremely reduced by a series of calamities, especially by the earthquake in 1693. It is an archbishopric; has a harbour and some fortifications. It was taken by the Spaniards in 1735. Palermo is now the capital; though Messina claims to be the capital also.

Messina being the first city we approach, in our way from Calabria, we will speak of Messina first. This city is reckoned about twelve miles from Reggio, on the coast of Calabria. The harbour is one of the most beautiful ever formed by nature; on the Northside runs, Westward, a semicircular tongue, or slip of land; on which stands the light-house, and some salt ponds; on the opposite side of the harbour stands the city, upon rising ground, on a semicircular shore; forming together a circular harbour, and something like a horse-shoe; open to the sea at the West, but commanded by four forts; and, at the upper end of the harbour, in the centre, stands the governor's house, and a pentagon fortress, called the citadel; behind the city, rise immediately a number of lofty mountains, well secured, and Aetna as a pinnacle above the whole.

From the palace, now the governor's house, at the foot of these mountains, ran one of the broadest, cleanest, and finest quays in Europe; ornamented with statues and fountains, more than a mile in length; with a beautiful range of regular lofty houses; with nineteen gates, answering to as many streets; it followed the semicircular bend of the port, quite to the sea, hiding the lower houses of the city, and showing only the more beautiful, that stand on the rise of the hill above it. I say ran, for this beautiful pile of buildings was thrown down in the earthquake of 1783, but is to be rebuilt. The anchorage is beyond the reach of a cannon-shot from the sea, and there is two hundred fathom water. The harbour, in short, is so deep, close to the quay, that vessels of the greatest tonnage can unload upon it; and the harbour is large enough to contain all the ships of Europe. Messina has been declared a free port since 1728.

The inner part of Messina is dirty, says Swinburne, though it contains a great number of churches, and large substantial dwellings. De Non says, there are handsome streets, beautiful squares, elegant marble fountains, equestrian and pedestrian statues of bronze; large and handsome churches, vast convents, and well-built hotels. He was there in 1778. Swinburne, about the same time. The population, says De Non, formerly corresponded with the appearance of the city; but the plague of 1743 or 1744, reduced it from one hundred thousand souls, to thirty thousand. Messina could never recover this loss; and, of course, the remote parts of the city are deserted. The cathedral is Gothic, and enriched with Saracenic mosaics on the altars and shrines. In the treasury of the church is preserved, the Palladium of Messina. This is a letter from the Virgin Mary to its citizens, in latin the purport of which is, "An acknowledgment from her, that her son is the son of God; in his nature, both God and man; and that, after his resurrection, he ascended into heaven; and that Paul was an apostle, chosen to preach the way of truth; dated in the year of Christ, forty-two." The story is as follows: After St. Paul had made some stay at Messina, the Messinese prevailed on him to return to Jerusalem, with an embassy of four persons, sent by the city to the Virgin Mary. Their excellencies, says Swinburne, were graciously received by her; and brought back a letter, written by her own hand, in the Hebrew tongue, which St. Paul translated into Greek. By the irruption of the Saracens, this invaluable treasure was lost, and utterly forgotten, till the year 1467; when Constantine Lascaris, a refugee Greek, found a copy of it; and, turning it into Latin, made it known to the citizens, and then to all the Catholic world; and its authenticity is so well established at Messina, that whoever confesses a doubt on the subject, is considered as an infidel.

In the dates to this curious letter, says Swinburne, for there are more than one, there are some astronomical blunders; and Lascaris having annexed the date, Anno Christi 42, was not aware, that Denis the Little, a Syrian monk, in the sixth century, was the first that made use of the aera, that commences at our Saviour's birth.

This favoured letter, is that on which the Messinese built their pretensions to pre-eminence, over the whole world; to its virtues and patronage they attribute every piece of good fortune, and to their own unworthiness all sinister events that have befallen them.

Brydone says, the number of gallies and galliots, in this harbour, adds greatly to its beauty. They are commissioned to cruize round the island, in order to protect it from the sudden invasions of the Barbarians, who are often very troublesome on the South coast. These vessels, when sailing out of the harbour, make a very picturesque appearance; their oars rowing all together, and with the greatest regularity. There are nine or ten men to each oar. Rowing seems the hardest work imaginable, for they all rise at every stroke of the oar; and when they pull, they almost throw themselves on their backs, and seem to exert their utmost force. These galley-slaves are chained to their oars, and sleep every night on the bare benches, without any thing to throw over them.

On the 20th of May is celebrated a great festival here, in honour of St. Francis. The Saint is carried in procession, with vast ceremony, to the top of a hill, without the city; and receives there the homage of the people with becoming dignity. After this, he is lodged again in his chapel, and the people dance and make merry till sun-set. The assembly-room was one fine green plain on the top of this hill, and a range of two thousand small cannon were fired, so quick after each other, by a train of running fire, that the ear could not separate the reports; their echo among the mountains, prolonged the sound, and had a fine effect.

The view, from the top of this, is beautiful beyond description. The streights, between Sicily and Italy, appear like a vast majestic river, flowing slowly betwixt two ridges of mountains; its banks adorned with rich corn-fields, vineyards, orchards, towns, villages, and churches; and the prospect terminated on each side, by the tops of high mountains covered with wood.

The lark-spur, Venus' look-glass, hawks-weed, and very fine lupins, grow wild over all the mountains round Messina; also a variety of flowering shrubs. All the fields are covered with the richest white clover, intermixed with a variety of aromatic plants, which perfume the air, and render their walks delightful. There are many fine shady walks on all sides of Messina. The houses are large, and most of the articles of life cheap, and in plenty, particularly fish; which is reckoned better here, than any where else in the Mediterranean. Hire of lodging is next to nothing. Almost half that noble range of buildings, on the quay, was absolutely uninhabited, even before the last earthquake; so that the owners are glad to get tenants on any terms; of course, all things considered, Brydone is of opinion, it is a place admirably calculated for valetudinarians, who search a warm climate. Even their winter-season is preferable to that of Naples; and it has many advantages over Naples. They have, indeed, heavy rains sometimes, for two or three weeks, but they never last longer; for even in these, there are some fair hours every day; and the soil being a light gravel, the rain is no sooner over, than the walks are dry.

CHAP. V. Of Palermo and its Environs.

PALERMO is the capital of Sicily, and the residence of the viceroy; well fortified, with a harbour, the entrance to which is defended by two strong citidels. It carries on a brisk trade, and is said to contain upwards of twenty thousand inhabitants. It is an archbishopric, united with Monte Reale; has a university, fifty-two convents, twenty-two nunneries, and is the usual abode of many princes, and others of the chief nobility. The city is divided into four divisions; in the first is the royal palace, where the viceroy resides, and the parliament holds its meetings, and a large hospital; in the second, the cathedral, called in Italy, La Matrice; in the third, the town house, a handsome edifice; and in the fourth, a Dominican church, and several other fine buildings. This city suffered much in the earthquakes of 1693 and 1726.

The more we see of Palermo, says De Non, and the more minutely it is examined, the more we shall be sensible of its beauty; handsome streets, large and beautiful squares, public fountains, and private ones, even on the fourth story of every house; superb churches, and delightful walks; a good air, a vast population, with a cleanliness not to be found in any other city of the kingdom; a tolerable extensive commerce, though not a twelfth part of what it might be; a great number of houses, at once rich, noble, and triumphant; a warm climate, lively passions, pleasing women, and the luxury of the Sybaerites, are all found there.

Palermo, the capital of Sicily, washed by the Tyrrhenian sea, says Bisani, is situated at the foot of a chain of mountains, which forms a kind of amphitheatre, and supplies it with plenty of clear, pure, and healthy water. Though, apparently a small city, viewed from without, it is a large, fine, place; six miles in circumference. Two large streets, more than a mile long, cross each other in right angles, and divide it into four parts, corresponding to four principal gates. These streets are well paved, and have a broad pavement for foot passengers; fine buildings, and well lighted at night. The central place, where the great streets cross each other, forming a fine octagon, is called Piazza Villena; each side of which exhibits a re-union of the three orders of architecture, Doric, Ionic, and Corinthian; three statues and a fountain. there is not such a coup d'oeil, in any other city in Europe. The lesser streets run parallel to these great ones.

The places, the statues, the obelisks, the fountains, are not the most remarkable objects here. Besides the fountain De Preteur, which, for the beauty of its marble, its design, the great number of animals, monsters, and statues, of which it is composed; its circumference of five hundred and fifteen feet, and the disposition of its balustrades, is allowed by connoisseurs, as a chef d'oeuvre of art; the churches are enriched with fine marbles, and alabaster, peculiar to this island; porphyry, precious stones, and a profusion of gold and silver vessels. Some of them boast of excellent architecture; and, in many, are pictures of the best Italian masters. As the climate inspires indolence and devotion, here are no less than eighty convents of monks and nuns; which are very humane and charitable. Here are about seven hospitals, and a general asylum for the poor.

One of the city gates opens to the marino, a delightful walk, which constitutes one of the great pleasures of the nobility of Palermo. It is bounded, on one side, by the city-wall; and, on the other, by the sea; from whence there is always an agreeable breeze. In the centre of the marino, they have erected a kind of temple, as an orchestra for music; and, in the summer seasons, they are obliged to convert the night into day; the concert does not begin till midnight. At that time, the walk is crouded with carriages, and people on foot; and, the better to favour pleasure and intrigue, there is an order, that no person shall carry a light with him. The flambeaux are put out at the city-gate, where the servants wait for the return of the carriages; and the company generally continue an hour or two in utter darkness; except when the intruding moon, says Brydone, with her horns and her chastity, comes to disturb them. The concert ends about two in the morning; when, for the most part, every husband goes home to his own wife. This is an admirable institution, and never produces any scandal. No husband is such a brute as to deny his wife the marino; and the ladies are so cautious and circumspect, on their side, that, the more to avoid giving offence, they very often put on masques.

In this hallowed walk, says De Non, the most mysterious obscurity, and most rigorously respected, reigns. The whole company is intermingled without distinction. They seek for and find each other; supper parties are formed, and carried snugly into execution; and upon the spot, at taverns, built along the walls of the rampart.

Thus do the inhabitants of Palermo vary the order of nature, and preserve themselves from feeling, and almost from recollecting the heat of their climate. They rise, says De Non, at noon, when the sea-breeze, which springs up at ten, has tempered the heat; they then repair either for business or pleasure, to the Cassaro, a large, and superb street, which crosses the whole city, from North to South. The prodigious population of Palermo, which is about 110,000 persons; is as great in proportion as that of Naples, and is here particularly discovered. The number of carriages is truly astonishing; for these are so much in fashion at Palermo, that a coach is become a matter of absolute necessity. There are no hackney-coaches; those let out for hire, as well as those of the nobility, are antique, inconvenient vehicles, drawn by mules. In summer, their carriages are more elegant.

The nobility parade in the Cassaro, till three in the afternoon; they then dine; thence they go to the Marino, where a band of music awaits them two hours before night. From hence they pass to the Conversaziones; or the opera, which is the only public entertainment, beginning an hour before night, and ending as do the Conversaziones, at midnight, or one in the morning; when they return to the Marino, the constantly recurring amusement of the Palermian day. This diurnal round of pleasure is interrupted, only by the Carnival; which changes the order of enjoyments, only to render them more lively, by the two seasons for the country, which are May and October; and by the festival of Saint Rosalia, which exhibits the most splendid, and most agreeable enthusiasm of devotion, and which I shall speak of in its course.

There are a variety of conversaziones every night. There is one general one, supported by the subscription of the nobility; open every evening at sun set, and continuing till midnight, when the marino begins. At these meetings, the company merely converse; few play at cards, and these not long. At this assembly there are a number of apartments, lighted with wax-lights, and kept exceeding cool and agreeable. The private conversaziones are always held, says Brydone, in the apartments of lying-in ladies; from this happy climate, childbearing is divested of all its terror, and is only considered as a party of pleasure. Brydone went to one of these, that of princess Palerno, the evening she was brought to bed. The princess sat up in her bed, in an elegant undress, with a number of her friends about her; she talked as usual, and seemed perfectly well. The conversation is repeated every night, during her convalescence, which generally lasts-eleven or twelve days. This custom is universal; and, as the ladies here are very prolific, three or four of these meetings occur every night; possibly the Marino may not a little contribute towards them.

Mr. Brydone spoke so free of the ladies of fashion at Palermo, and his tour to Sicily, being translated into French, and spreading to Palermo, the nobility have determined never to pay any attention to letters of recommendation, in favour of the English, nor receive them on their travels. In consequence of this, Swinburne, who followed Brydone, says, he could not obtain access into any family.

The Sicilian ladies, says Brydone, marry at thirteen, or fourteen; and are, sometimes, grandmothers before thirty. I was presented, by count Stetela, to the princess Partana, who had twelze children, the eldest of whom was a fine girl of fifteen. I talked to the princess, continues he, for half an hour, and concluded I was speaking to her daughter; and, when the young lady entered, it was not easy to say which was youngest, or which was handsomest. The princess assured me, she never enjoyed more perfect health than when in childbed; that, during her pregnancy, she was often indisposed; but that, immediately on delivery, she was cured of all complaints, and was capable of enjoying the company of her friends, even more than at any other time. When I told her that the English ladies often died in childbed, and that the most easy deliveries were attended with violent pain and anguish; she lamented their fate, and thanked heaven she was born a Sicilian.

Their ease, in childbirth, is owing to the climate, which relaxes the frame. Among the cold Alps, half their women die in labour; and those who can afford it, often go dawn to the low countries, some weeks before they lie-in, and find their deliveries much easier.

Swinburne went out to sea, purposely to view Palermo from it; and says, its extensive bay is confined by a circle of mountains, of various elevations and forms; and the steeples, cupolas, and towers of the city, rise on the plain that extends from their foot, and line the shore.

Palermo is walled round, almost in a circular form, and the principal streets are so decorated with statues, fountains, and buildings, as to present the idea of a royal city. Most of the other streets are narrow and crooked; and, being wretchedly paved, are buried in dirt during the winter. The city is well lighted, with reverberating lamps; and, in wet weather, moveable wooden bridges are provided for crossing the kennels, which then become rapid torrents.

The cathedral was built in 1185, and is in a very ruinous condition. It is a Gothic edifice, but heavy, and void of all the chaste proportions of the Grecian art. It contains several tombs of sovereigns; and, at the foot of the altar, rests the heroic earl Roger, conqueror of Sicily, and terror of infidels.

Most of the churches are rich, in silver, gems, and marble; but their architecture, and embellishments, horrid. In several, the walls within are lined with red, or yellow marble; upon which, from the cieling to the floor, are glued basso relievo figures of angels, busts, and flowers in white marble.

The palace, which stands near the small gate, is an immense mass of discordant parts, built at different periods. The halls are of noble size, the courts of justice are held on a ground floor, and batteries of cannon defend the approach.

The assemblies, at the viceroy's palaces, says Swinburne, gave me an opportunity of seeing the whole corps of nobility collected together. The men are rather a comely race; but the ladies are little favoured by nature. Two girls, under eight years of age, heiresses of great families, and already betrothed, made their appearance in the ball-room, decked out in the very excess of the mode; their showy dresses, their diminutive size, and affected gravity, in dancing a minuet; joined to the fatherly care, their future husbands anxiously took of them, reminded me of dolls made to move round a table by clock-work.

In the streets women hide their heads, in black veils; a very ancient mode of dress in this island, and very lately introduced at Naples, and there become fashionable.

The viceroy, like the viceroy of Ireland, affects in every thing the pageantry of royalty. His train of coaches are as splendid; a strong, well-dressed body of guards attends his person; and, on parade days, his coachmen, postillions, and livery-servants, are dressed in flowing wigs, without hats. When he goes to church, he receives the tribute of a cloud of incense; and he, alone, with great solemnity, puts on his hat. On the 21st of December, he makes an annual visit to the jails, where he pardons as many prisoners as he pleases. All law is that day dormant; and, although the magistrates have a right to remonstrate, he is under no obligation to follow their advice; but, the viceroys are very cautious not to abuse this privilege. If they pardon, it is on a report from the judges.

The Sicilians, says Brydone, appear frank and sincere; and their politeness does not consist in shew and grimace, like some of the polite nations of the continent. The viceroy sets the pattern of hospitality, and he is followed by the rest of the nobles. Notwithstanding his great authority, he is affable and familiar, and makes his house agreeable to every body. His table is served with elegance and magnificence, much superior to that of his Sicilian majesty; who eats off a service of plate, at least, three hundred years old, very black and rusty, as if it had been dug out of Herculaneum.

Sicilian cookery is a mixture of French and Spanish; the olio still preserves its rank and dignity, in the centre of the table, surrounded by a numerous train of fricasees, fricandeaus, ragouts, and pet de loups, like a grave Spanish don, amid a number of little smart marquisses. All the nobility, are magnificent in their entertainments; particularly in their deserts and ices; of which there is a greater variety than in most countries. They are very temperate in their wines; but, having learnt from the English the method of hob-a-nobbing, and toasting ladies, they are more free in drinking than they used to be; and say, the English have made them drunkards. In their ordinary living, they are very frugal and temperate.

Brydone dined with the bishop of Agrigentum, the richest bishop in the kingdom; thirty were at table, and there were not less than a hundred dishes, dressed with the richest and most delicate sauces. By a modern refinement in luxury, they contrive to make the livers of their fowls, grow to a large size, and acquire a rich and high flavour; it is a cruel mode, which occasions lingering death to the poor animal; and it is, therefore, best not to mention it. In their deserts, besides a variety of fruit, they introduce a profusion of ices, in the shape of peaches, figs, oranges, nuts, &c. The company were chiefly priests, but were very fond of punch, which they persuaded Mr. Brydone and his friend to make; called it Pontio; and spoke loudly in its praise; declaring Pontio, alluding to Pontius Pilate, was a much better fellow than they had ever taken him for. One of the canons growing sick, with drinking too much of it, and vomiting, exclaimed, shaking his head and groaning, Ah signior Capitano, sapeva sempre che Pontio era un grande traditore. "I always knew that Pontius was a great traitor." Their conversation ran on the pleasures of the world; they said they were a happy fraternity; had long exploded every thing that is dismal and melancholy; and were convinced, a chearful life on earth was the best preparation for happiness hereafter; that abstinence, from lawful pleasures, was a sin.

For God is paid when man receives:

T'enjoy is to obey.

The Sicilians, continues Brydone, have always had the character of being very amorous, and surely not without reason. The whole nation are poets; even the peasants; and a man stands a poor chance of a mistress, that cannot celebrate her muses. Gallantry, here, is much on the same footing as in Italy. The establishment of cicisbeos is also pretty general, though not quite so universal as on the continent. A breach, however, of the married vow, is not looked upon as a deadly sin. Husbands are content; and, like able generals, make up for the loss of one fortress, by taking another. Female licentiousness, however, has, by no means, come to such a height as in Italy. We saw a great deal of domestic happiness. Husbands and wives that truly love one another: sights that are very rare on the continent. Indeed the style that young ladies are brought up in here, seems to lay a more solid foundation for matrimonial happiness, than either in France or Italy. The young ladies are not shut up in convents till the day of their marriage; but live with their parents, and visit with them, being allowed as much liberty as with us. In their great assemblies, we often see a number of young people, of both sexes, get together in a corner, and amuse themselves for hours, at cross-purposes, or such like games, without the mother being at all uneasy. In general, they are quick and lively, and have a number of those jeux d'esprit, which is a proof, in all countries, of a familiar intercourse of the sexes; for all these games are insipid, if they are not seasoned by something of that invisible and subtil agency, which renders every thing more interesting, in these mixed societies, than in the lifeless one, composed of only one sex.

In the gardens, about Palermo, there are a profusion of fine flowers. Swinburne was here in December, and says, the borders were full of roses, and other flowers in bloom, and very highly scented; and violets and carnations had been in flower since October. Many fruit-trees, here, bear two crops; they produce a fruit at the usual season; then bud again, and bear fruit, a second time, near the middle of September; though the second fruit is not so large and fine flavoured as the first. The manna-tree yields, annually, about a pound of manna, worth four hundred tari and a half; the tari equal to the carline of Naples. These trees never arrive at a great size, owing to their annual bleedings; but will yield manna for a hundred years. The sugar-cane, on the Eastern coast of Valdinote, grows to a fine size, and is very juicy; thrives almost without care; has heat and mixture enough; and neither hurricanes nor insects to destroy them, but, hands are scarce, and labour dear; and, of course, not much is done in it.

There are two small countries, one to the East, the other to the West of Palermo, where the principal nobility have their county palaces. I shall only speak of one; which, for all its singularity, is certainly not to be parallelled on the face of the earth; it belongs to the prince of Patagonia; a man of immense fortune; who has devoted his whole life, to the study of monsters and chimaeras; greater, and more ridiculous than ever entered into the imagination of the wildest writers of romance, or knight-errantry.

The amazing croud of statues, that surround his house, appear at a distance, like a little army, drawn up for its defence; but, when you get among them, says Brydone, you imagine you have got into the regions of delusion and enchantment; for of all that immense group, there is not one made to represent any object in nature; nor is the absurdity of the wretched imagination that created them less astonishing, than its wonderful fertility. He has put the heads of men, to the bodies of every sort of animal; and the heads of every other animal, to the bodies of men; sometimes he makes a compound of five or six animals, that have no resemblance in nature. He puts the head of a lion to the neck of a goose, the body of a lizard, the legs of a goat, and the tail of a fox; on the back of this monster he puts another, if possible, still more hideous, with five or six heads, and a bush of horns, that beat the beast in the revelations, all to nothing. There is not a horn in the world that he has not collected; and his pleasure is to see them flourishing on the same head. This is a strange piece of madness, and is truly unaccountable, that he has not been shut up many years ago; but, he is perfectly innocent, and troubles no one by the indulgence of his phrenzy. I have conversed with him, continues Brydone, and heard him talk speciously enough, on all occasions; and he gives bread to a number of statuaries and workmen, whom he rewards, in proportion as they can bring their imaginations to coincide with his own.

To this extraordinary place, says Swinburne, the traveller is admitted through a large gate; on the plinth of which are fixed, six colossal white-washed statues of hussars, or halberdiers, to dispute the entrance of an avenue, three hundred yards long; not of cypresses, elms, or orange-trees; but of monsters, to the number of six hundred. On each side of this avenue is a parapet-wall, loaded with more horrible figures than were ever raised by Armida, and all the enchantment of Ariosto. Busts of punchinellos and harlequins, with snakes twisted round them. Heads of dwarfs, with huge perriwigs; of asses and horses, with laced cravats, and ruffs, compose the lower range of this gallery; and, at intervals of an hundred yards, are clustered pillars, supporting curious groups of figures; some are musicians, others pigmies, opera-heroes, old women grinning; lions, and other beasts, seated at tables, with napkins under their chins, eating oysters; princesses with feathers and fur-belows, ostriches in hoops, and cats in boots.

The old ornaments, in the court that surrounds the palace, that were put up by his father, who was a man of taste and sense, have been all knocked to pieces, to make room for this new creation. These monsters, and animals, line the battlements of the mansion; and stand so thick, and in such menacing attitudes, as it would not be safe to approach in a windy day. They are all carved out of very soft stone, that crumbles away, and will not last long. The walls are cased with basso-relievos, masks, medallions, scriptural subjects, heathen gods, emperors, and posture-masters; some in a good style, copied from the antique; but, the greatest part consists of such figures, as we meet with in Dutch fairs, representing the seasons and elements.

The inside of this enchanted castle, says Brydone, corresponds exactly with the out; it is, in every respect, as whimsical and fantastical; and, you cannot turn yourself to any side, where you are not stared in the face by some hideous figure, or other. Some of the apartments are spacious and magnificent, with high arched roofs; which, instead of plaister or stucco, are composed entirely of large mirrors, nicely joined together. The effect that these produce, (as each of them make a small angle with the other) is exactly a multiplying-glass; so that, when three or four people are walking below, there is always the appearance of three or four hundred walking above. The whole of the doors are, likewise, covered over with small pieces of looking-glass; cut into the most ridiculous shapes, and intermixed with a great variety of chrystal and glass of different colours. All the chimney-pieces, windows, and side-boards, are crowded with pyramids and pillars of tea-pots, candle cups, bowls, cups, saucers, &c. strongly cemented together. Some of these columns are not without their beauty. One of them has a large china chamberpot for its base, and a circle of pretty little flower-pots for its capital; the shaft of the column, upwards of four feet long, is composed entirely of tea-pots, of different sizes, diminishing gradually from the base to the capital. The profusion of choice, that has been employed in forming these columns, is incredible. There are not less than forty of them.

Most of the rooms are paved with fine marble tiles of different colours, that look like so many tomb-stones; some of these very richly wrought, with lapis lazuli, porphyry, and other valuable stones. The windows are composed of a variety of glass, of every colour, mixed without order or regularity. The house-clock is cased in the body a statue; the eyes of the figure moves with the pendulum, turning up their white and black, alternately, and make a hideous appearance.

His bed-chamber and dressing-room are like two apartments of Noah's ark; there is scarce a beast, however vile, that he has not placed there; birds, pigs, serpents, lizards, scorpions, all cut in marble, in their respective colours. There are a good many busts too, not less singularly imagined. Some of these make a very handsome profile on one side; turn to the other and you have a skeleton; here you see a nurse with a child in her arms, its back is exactly that of an infant; its face, that of a wrinkled old woman of ninety.

For some minutes we can laugh at these follies, says Brydone; but indignation and contempt, soon get the better of your mirth, and the laugh is turned into a sneer.

The family-statues are charming; they have been done from some old pictures, and make a most venerable appearance; but, this man has dressed them out, from head to foot, in new and elegant suits of marble; and the effect it produces, is more ridiculous than any thing that can be conceived. Their shoes are made of black marble; their stockings are chiefly of red; their clothes of different colours, blue, green, and variegated, with a rich lace of Giall'antique. The wigs of men, and head-dresses of the ladies, are of white marble; so are their shirts, with long flowing ruffles of alabaster.

These fooleries, says De Non, must create in us a contempt for the owner; who is, otherwise, a very amiable man. Fortunately, the confusion of the objects effaces them from the mind, as soon as they are seen, and leaves only an indistinct idea of this collection; apparently formed without motive, and as difficult to describe, as disagreeable to behold.

The prince of P. author of this collection, is a poor, miserable, lean figure; shivering at a breeze, and seems to be afraid of every body he speaks to. He is one of the richest subjects in the island; and, it is thought, has not laid out less than twenty thousand pounds, (Swinburne says, forty thousand pounds, in the creation of this world of monsters and chimaeras; however, as we have observed, it gives bread to a number of poor people, to whom he is an excellent master. His house, at Palermo, is a good deal in the same stile; his carriages are covered with plates of brass, and some of them musket-proof.

Government have had serious thoughts of demolishing the regiment of monsters he has placed round his house; but, as he is humane and inoffensive, and as this would certainly break his heart, they have yet forborne. Seeing of them, it is said, by women with child, has been already attended with very unfortunate circumstances. Several living monsters have been brought forth in the neighbourhood. The ladies, says Brydone, complain, that they dare not take an airing that way; that some hideous form always haunts their imagination for some time after; their husbands too, are as little satisfied with the great variety of horns.

In the midst of this extravagance of the prince, says Swinburne, his family has often wanted clothes and victuals. Having run himself out, his relations have taken upon them the administration of his estate, and he has left the place. Since he has been debarred the pleasure of raising devils, he has attached himself to saints, and spends his time in following processions, and visiting churches. On being asked what part of the globe the originals of the figures upon his walls, are to be met with; he replied, in Egypt; where Diodorus Siculus says, the rays of the sun act so powerfully, on the fat slime left by the Nile, that it engenders all sorts of uncouth, and otherwise, unknown animals.

CHAP. VI. Of the Festival of Rosolia, at Palermo.

ONE of the most magnificent, and brilliant spectacles in the world, is the festival held annually at Palermo, on the twelfth of July, and the four following days, in memory and honour of Saint Rosolia, the patroness of the city.

Rosolia, or Rosolia, for she is thus differently called, as report goes, was the daughter of a count Sinibaldus; and, in the twelfth century, to save her virginity from the brutality of the Saracens, she retired to a cave in Mount Quisquina, and afterwards came to live in Mount Pellegrino, a mountain quite detached from others, about a mile from the gates of Palermo. It is a tall rock, without a tree or a shrub, except near the top. Here was her grotto, and here she died, and remained unknown till in the year 1624. During the time of a dreadful plague, a holy man had a vision, that the saint's bones were lying in a cave near the top of this mountain; that, if they were taken up with due reverence, and carried in procession, thrice round the walls of the city, the plague would cease; he was listened to by the vulgar, they rose and supported his cause; and, the magistrates to appease them, sent to Monte Pellegrino; when Io! the mighty discovery was made; the sacred bones were found. The city was freed from the plague. Rosalia became the greatest saint in the calendar; churches were reared, altars were dedicated, and monasteries appointed to this new divinity; whose dignity and consequence, have ever since been supported at an incredible expence.

There is a zig-zag road up the side of this mountain, in length, about an hour's walk, made at the expence of the state; the senate levying a tax upon meat for the purpose. A convent and portico close up the entrance of a spacious •avern. A rich altar covers the marble effigy of the saint, represented lying at full length. It is covered with a silver vest, the gift of the King of Spain.

People of education are very grave here, and despise the wild superstition of the vulgar; yet, they go to mass regularly, and attend the ordinances with great respect and decency, and are pleased with us for conforming to their customs, and for not appearing openly to despise their rites and ceremonies. This attention of theirs, not to offend weak minds, shews a good heart and understanding. They boast not of their infidelity; neither do they pester you with it, as in France; and where, although they pretend to be lawless; they do, in fact, believe more than any nation on the continent.

A man can have no good principles, who makes a parade of his contempt for things held sacred; it is an open insult to the judgment of the public. An Englishman, says Brydone, a few years ago, offended egregiously in this respect, and the people of Palermo still speak of him with contempt and detestation. It happened one day, in the great church, during the elevation of the host, when every one else were on their knees, that this man was standing, without any appearance of respect to the ceremony; a young nobleman near him expressed his surprise at it: "It is strange, Sir, (said he) that you who have had the education of a gentleman, and ought to have the sentiments of one, should chuse thus to give so very public offence." "Why, 'tis, (said the Englishman) I don't believe in transubstantiation."—"Neither do I, Sir, (replied the other) and yet you see I kneel."

Mr. Brydone was present at the festival of St. Rosalio, and gives us the following full and entertaining account of it.

The corso is one of the great streets that crosses the city; it is a mile long, and extends to the maund, or public walk, which continues its length another mile, along the sea-side. The surface of the street is concave; and, of course, we can see easily from end to end. Some time before the festival, great preparations are made for illuminating this street, the marino, and the other great street that crosses the corso. This is done by the erection of pyramids and arches. They are erected on each side the streets, betwixt the front path and the pavement, and run in two right lines, exactly parallel from one end to the other; the four gates, at the end of these cross streets, are also illuminated; so that, from the square in the centre of the city, the whole of this illumination can be seen at once. The number of pyramids, and arches, exceed two thousand. Two great theatres are also erected for fire-works; one fronting the viceroy's palace, and almost equal to it in size; and the other on piles, driven into the sea, exactly opposite to the great orchestra, in the centre of the marino.

The cathedral too is illuminated, both roof and walls; and within, they are entirely covered over, on this occasion, with looking-glass, intermixed with gold and silver paper, and an infinite variety of artificial flowers, all arranged with great taste and judgment. Every altar, chapel, and column, is decorated in the same manner. The roof is hung with innumerable lustres filled with candles; the saints are dressed out in all their glory, and the fairy queen, herself, was never finer than St. Rosalio.

On the evening of the twelfth of July, at five o'clock, the festival begins. A triumphal car is drawn, from the middle of the marino, through the centre of the city to its furthest gate; preceded by a troop of horse, with trumpets and kettle-drums, and all the city-officers in their gala uniforms. The car is an enormous machine, on wheels, seventy feet long, thirty wide, and more than eighty high; and, as it passed along, overtopped the loftiest houses of Palermo. The form of its under part is like that of the Roman gallies, but smaller as it advances in height. The front assumes an oval shape, like an amphitheatre, with seats placed in the stile of a theatre. This is the great orchestra, filled with a numerous band of musicians, in rows one above another. Over this orchestra, and a little behind it, there is a large dome, supported by six large Corinthian columns, and adorned with a number of figures of saints and angels; and, on the summit of the dome, a gigantic silver statue of
FESTIVAL of ROSALIA.

St. Rosalio. The whole machine is dressed out with orange-trees, flower-pots, and trees of artificial coral. The car stopped every fifty or sixty yards; when the orchestra performed a piece of music; with songs, in honour of the saint. It appeared a moving castle, and completely filled the great street, from side to side. This vast fabric was drawn by fifty-six huge mules, two a-breast, curiously caparisoned, and mounted by twenty-eight postilions, dressed in gold and silver stuffs, with great plumes of ostrich feathers in their hats. Every window, and balcony, both sides of the street, were full of well dressed people; and the car was followed by many thousands of the lower sort. The triumph was finished in about three hours, and was succeeded by the beautiful illumination of the marino. (See the Plate.)

From end to end of the marino, pyramids and arches were erected, as in the great street; and so entirely were they covered with lamps, that, at a little distance, they seemed pyramids and arches of flame. The whole chain of this illumination was about a mile in length, and nothing can be conceived more splendid; no break, or imperfection any where, nor a single lamp extinguished: so still was the night.

Opposite to the centre, of this great line of light, was a magnificent pavilion, erected for the viceroy and his company, which consisted of the whole nobility of Palermo; and, at the entrance of this, at some little distance in the sea, stood the great fireworks; representing the front of a palace, adorned with columns, arches, trophies, and every ornament of architecture. All the xebecs, gallies, galliots, and other shipping, were ranged round this palace, and formed a kind of amphitheatre in the sea, enclosing it in the centre. These began the show, by a discharge of their artillery; the sound of which reechoed from the mountains; and, in a still night, produced a very noble effect. A variety of water-rockets, and bombs of a curious construction, were next played off, that often burst below water. This continued for half an hour; when, in an instant, the whole of the palace was beautifully illuminated. This was the signal for the shipping to cease; and appeared, indeed, like a piece of enchantment, being done instantaneously, altogether, and without the appearance of any agent: at the same time, the fountains, that were represented in the court, before the palace, began to spout out fire, resembling the great Jet d'eaus of Versailles and Marly. As soon as these were extinguished, the court of this palace took on the form of a great parterre, embellished with a variety of palm-trees of fire, interspersed with orange-trees, flower-pots, vases, and other ornaments; and the front of it broke out into a variety of suns, stars, and wheels of fire; which, in a short time, reduced the whole erection to a perfect ruin. All now seemed over; when, unexpectedly, there burst from the centre of the pile, a vast explosion of two thousand rockets, bombs, serpents, squibs, and devils; which seemed to fill the whole atmosphere. During this exhibition, coffee, ices, sweetmeats, and a variety of excellent wines, were handed round in the pavilion, in the centre of the marino. This was at the expence of the duke of Castellano, the praetor, or mayor of the city. The principal nobility give these entertainments by turns, every night during the festival, and vie with each other in magnificence.

The firework being finished, the viceroy went out to sea in a galley, richly illuminated. Brydone continued on shore, to see the effect. It was rowed by seventy-two oars; and, he says, made one of the most beautiful objects imaginable; flying with vast velocity over the waters, then as smooth and as clear as glass; which shone round it like a flame, and reflected its splendor on all sides. The oars beat time to the French-horns, clarinets, and trumpets, of which there was a numerous band in the prow.

The day's entertainment was concluded by the corso; which began exactly at midnight, and lasted two hours. This great street was illuminated in the same manner as the marino. The arches and pyramids were erected, at little distances from each other, on both sides, betwixt the foot-path and the space for carriages; and, when seen from either of the city gates, at the end of the street, appeared to be two continued lines of the brightest flame. Indeed, says Brydone, these illuminations are so very different, and so much superior, to any I ever saw, that I find it difficult to give an idea of them. Two lines of coaches occupied the space between these two lines of illumination. They in their greatest gala; and, as these coaches open in the middle, and let down on each side, the beauty of the ladies, the richness of their dress, and brilliance of their jewels, were displayed in the most advantageous manner.

The beautiful train moved slowly, round and round, for two hours. They seemed all joy and exultation; scarce two coaches past, without some mutual acknowledgment of affection, or respect; and the pleasure, that sparkled from every eye, seemed to be reflected and communicated by sympathy through the whole.

In such an assembly, continues Brydone, it was impossible for the heart not to dilate and expand itself. I own, mine was so full, that I could hardly find utterance; and, I have seen a tragedy with less emotion, than this scene of festivity. The universal joy seemed here to spring from the heart; it brightened every countenance, and spoke affection and friendship from every face.—No stately air—no supercilious look—all appeared friends and equals—and, sure I am, that the beauty of the ladies was not half so much heightened, either by their dress or their jewels, as by that air of complacency and good-humour, with which it was animated.

The next day, I thought there would be a falling off. The entertainments of the thirteenth began by horse-races. Of these there were three; six horses started each time, mounted by boys, about twelve years old, without either saddle or bridle; only a small piece of cord, by way of bit in the horse's mouth, which it seems is sufficient to stop them. The great street was the course; and for this purpose it was covered with earth, five or six inches deep. The firing of a gun was the signal for starting; the horses understood this, for they all sat off at once, full speed, from one gate; and continued at their utmost stretch to the other; exactly a mile, and ran it in a minute and thirty-five seconds; the horses scarce fourteen hands high; barbs, or a mixed breed, between a Sicilian and a barb. The boys were gaudily dressed, and made a pretty appearance. They kept their seat by leaning forward, and laying fast hold of the mane.

The moment before starting, the street appeared full of people; nor did we conceive how the race could be run; and we were alarmed at seeing the horses run full speed, at the very thickest of the crowd, which did not begin to open, till they were almost close upon it. The people then opened, and fell back on each side, by a regular uniform motion, from one end of the street to the other. This singular manoeuvre seemed to be performed without any bustle or confusion; and, the moment the horses were past, the people closed again behind them. The victor was conducted along the street in triumph, with his prize before him; viz. a piece of white silk, embroidered and worked with gold.

The great street was illuminated in the same manner as before; and the grand assembly of the nobles was held at the archbishop's palace, which was richly fitted up on the occasion. The gardens were finely illuminated, like our Vauxhall on an extra day; an orchestra was erected at each end, and two very good bands of music played. The entertainment was splendid.

About ten at night, the great triumphal car was drawn back again, in procession, to the marino; richly illuminated with wax tapers, and made a most formidable figure. Don Qaixole would have been excusable in taking it for an enchanted castle, moving through the air. The corso was illuminated, as the night before, and the same parading of carriages took place.

On the fourteenth, at night, the two great streets, and the city gates that terminate them, were illuminated in the most splendid manner. The square, in the centre, where the streets cross each other, was richly ornamented with tapestry, statues, and artificial flowers; and, as the buildings which form its four sides are uniform, and of fine architecture, and at the same time highly illuminated, it had a wonderful effect. There were four orchestras erected in it; and the fine bands of music were greater, than it could be supposed Palermo could furnish. From the centre of this square, we have a view of the whole city, thus dressed out in its glory; and the effect it produces, surpasses belief.

The nobles assembled in the viceroy's palace; and the entertainment, was still more magnificent, than either of the former evenings. The great fire-works, opposite the front of the palace, began at ten o'clock, and ended at midnight; after this, the parading in the corso, as before, till two. The fireworks were more superb than those on the sea; though it had not so good an effect.

On the fifteenth, three races, six horses each, as before. The great assembly of the nobility was at the justice Monarchias, an officer of high rank and dignity. Here, also, was a sumptuous entertainment, and a concert. At eleven at night, the viceroy, and the whole company, walked to visit the square and the great church; a prodigious train; for, though the city was all a lamp of light, the servants of the viceroy and nobles, preceded with flambeaus. As soon as the viceroy entered the square, the five orchestras played, and continued playing till he left it.

The crowd round the church was very great, but the attendants soon cleared the way; and, entering at the great gate, we beheld the most splendid scene in the world. The whole church appeared a flame of light, which reflected from ten thousand bright and shining surfaces, of different colours, and different angles, produced an effect, which no description of enchantment can equal. The whole church, walls, roof, pillars, &c. were entirely covered over with looking-glass, as I have observed, interspersed with gold and silver paper, and artificial flowers; so that not one inch of stone, or plaster, could be seen. Form an idea of one of our great cathedrals dressed out in this manner, and illuminated with twenty thousand wax-tapers, and it will give some faint notion of this splendid scene. I never could have supposed, says Brydone, that human art could have devised any thing so splendid. The scene was too glaring to bear any considerable time; and the heat, occasioned by the lights, soon became intolerable. In this cathedral there were twenty-eight altars, fourteen on each side; these were dressed out with the utmost magnificence; and the great altar was still more splendid than all. From the church, the company went to the corso; which concluded, as usual, the entertainments of the day.

On the sixteenth, the streets were fully illuminated. The assembly was held at the praeters, with an elegant entertainment and a concert. Pacherotti and Gabrielli sung; for they were here for the opera. The great procession, that closed the festival, began at ten o'clock. It differed only from the other procession in this; that, besides all the priests, friars, and religious orders of the city; there were placed, at equal distances from each, other, ten lofty machines of wood and pasteboard; representing temples, tabernacles, and a variety of beautiful pieces of architecture. These are furnished by the different convents, and religious fraternities, who vie with each other in the richness and elegance of the work; some of them are not less than sixty feet high. They were filled with figures of saints and angels, made of wax; so natural, and so admirably well painted, that many of them seemed alive. All these figures are prepared by the nuns, and dressed out in rich robes of gold and silver tissue. A great silver box, containing the bones of St. Rosalia, closed the procession. It was carried by thirty-six of the most respectable burgesses of the city, who look upon this as the greatest honour. The archbishop walked behind it, giving his benediction to the people as they passed.

No sooner had the procession finished the tour of the great square, before the praeter's palace, than the fountain in the centre, one of the largest and finest in Europe, was converted into a fountain of fire; throwing it up on all sides, and making a very beautiful appearance. It only lasted a few minutes, and was extinguished by a vast explosion that concluded the whole; and we may say, with truth, that the entertainments of the feast of St. Rosalio, are much beyond those of the holy week at Rome; of the Ascension at Venice; or, indeed, any other Romish festival.

On these occasions, we cannot but remark, says De Non, the gravity of the Sicilians; who enjoy all this, without the smallest external symptom of joy, or pleasure. They would, perhaps, revolt, if the senate was to put a stop to this festival; yet, they look on it with composure, without a smile, or any token of satisfaction; observing the most perfect good order, without requiring the interposition of the justice. No tumult ever happens; and, though there are upwards of one hundred thousand persons collected on the same spot, there never is any crouding. The inhabitants, of themselves, divide the street between them; one side for those coming up, and the other for the passengers going down. They are very different from our populace, who want to see every thing before it begins, keep looking when it has begun, and still push forward to stare about them when all is over; who never remain quiet so long as a lamp is burning, and can hardly prevail on themselves to retire, even when the lights are out. Here the labourer, or mechanic, as soon as midnight comes, leads off his wife, or mistress, whose arm he has never quitted, and resigns his place, without clamour to the nobility; who enter with the same order, and display, with true Italian pomp, their magnificent equipages, and gala liveries.

Another curiosity, near Palermo, is the sepultures of the dead, of the convent of Capuchins, about a mile from it. This is a vast subterraneous apartment, divided into large commodious galleries; the walls, on each side of which, are hollowed into a variety of niches, as if intended for a great collection of statues. These niches are filled with dead bodies of men, (for they will not permit women to be placed there) set upright upon their legs, and fixed by the back to the inside of the niche. Their number is about three hundred; all dressed in the clothes they usually wore. The skin and muscles, by a certain preparation, become as dry and hard, as a piece of stock-fish; and, although many of them have been there upwards of two hundred and fifty years, yet none are reduced to skeletons. The muscles are, indeed, more shrunk in some than in others; possibly, because they might have been more wasted at the time of their death. The sight of objects, like these, must raise in the spectator such emotions, as are not easily stifled. It is equally disagreeable to find, that they mortify our vanity, by destroying those fanciful chimaeras of happiness, and those great projects which the imagination is pleased to form. I experienced this, says Bisani, among others; but, no sooner were those ideas passed, than I could look on these spestres with calmness. Some inspired me with terror, some made me laugh, and seemed to laugh in their turn; all, however, afforded this lesson; that since we are born only to look round us, and to fall and confound our ashes with those of our ancestors, we should enjoy life; that life, whose days are so fugitive; and yet in such enjoyment, not forget, that virtue is the first of duties, and the parent of pleasure.

Here, says Brydone, the people of Palermo pay daily visits to their deceased friends, and regret the scenes of their past life; here they familiarise themselves with their future state, and chuse the company they would keep in the other world. It is a common thing to make choice of their niches, and try if their body fits it, that no alterations may be necessary after their death; and, sometimes by way of penance, they accustom themselves to stand for hours in these niches.

The bodies of the princes, and first nobility, are deposited in handsome chests, or trunks; some of them richly adorned. The keys are kept by the nearest relations of the family; who, sometimes, come and drop a tear over their departed friends.

These preserved bodies are, by no means, great objects of horror; they retain a strong likeness to what they were when alive; so that, as soon as the first feeling excited by these venerable figures is conquered, it may be considered as a vast gallery of original portraits, drawn by the pencil of truth.

Description is of all things the most insipid; for words, and writing, convey ideas only by a slow and regular kind of progress; and, whilst we gain one, we generally lose another; so that the fancy seldom embraces the whole: to relieve my readers, I have often, therefore, introduced anecdotes, and stories, perhaps not very pertinent to the subject; but merely to enliven the work, that might otherwise become dull and tiresome. It is on this principle, I shall give the following laughable story from Brydone. He dined with a nobleman at Palermo; and an abbé present gave him this anecdote of a friend of his, who was formerly a brother of the Capuchin convent, known by the name of Fra Pasqual, and who had passed through many singular scenes of life. He was one of the banditti of this kingdom, in which he had been enrolled some time; (of this banditti we shall speak hereafter) but, tired of the danger to which he was continually exposed, he changed the character of hero, for that of saint, and became a capuchin friar. He took the vows of poverty and chastity, and entered into all the rigours of a monastic life; determining to atone for his sins, by spending the remainder of it, in mortification and penance. He went bare-footed, wore a large rosary, and a thicker cord of discipline, than any monk in the convent; and, his whole deportment gave testimony of the most unfeigned repentance; this lasted only a few weeks. The devil was still at work in the heart of Pasqual; and, all these external mortifications only made him work the harder. In short, Pasqual finding it impossible to drive him out; and afraid, left the enemy should, at last, get the better of him, he thought it adviseable to leave, at Palermo, the character of sanctity he had acquired, and began a new life at a new place. He embarked for Naples, and was soon there admitted into a capuchin convent.

Pasqual knowing from experience, that the dull uniformity of a monastic life required some renovation, and amusement to render it supportable, set about it; the first thing he did, was to find himself a mistress, in a snug corner, where he might sleep at night, occasionally, from his convent, and indulge in that enjoyment which his austere order forbids. He soon fixed his eye on a celebrated courtezan; who, like our London ladies of easy virtue, though they admit for pay no visits from strangers, but those that are wealthy; will take up with lovers, at times, more suited to their own cast and inclinations. This lady admitted to her bed, at certain times, when she was otherwise engaged, a life-guard-man, six feet two inches high; a fellow with a spada, or toledo, of uncommon length; and wore a pair of curled whiskers, that would frighten any man, whose nerves were not uncommonly strong. This man was kept by her as her champion, and paid by those favours she had occasionally to spare; but, having an art of winning her affections, more than by fighting her battles, he had got the ascendancy over her; and never suffered her to receive any visits, but from those he was made acquainted with; which were generally old fools, who had more money than wit; and, would often sacrifice the former at the shrine of their idolatry. This lady, however, had a penchant of her own; and, having no idea of being confined to one youthful admirer, was determined to receive any other she pleased. At this time the capuchin, one night, fell in her way. When she knew her life-guard-man would be on duty, she invited him to her bed; and, to make her favours more valuable, told him, she had a lover, who was exceedingly jealous of her; that, if he knew of her intriguing, or admitting the visits of any other person, he would be the death of them both; for that he was a soldier, and a man in disposition as furious as a lion; but, that as he was then on duty, there would be no danger, and she should be glad to see him.

The capuchin, who had been originally bred to arms, having no fear, and liking difficulties, was more eager than ever to accept this lady's invitation. He, accordingly, stept out of his convent, and hied to the apartments of his mistress. But it so happened, that about one in the morning, when he was asleep, with his fair enchantress, the life-guard-man, unexpectedly returned. The noise he made at the door, soon awaked and alarmed them; the lady was frightened out of her wits, told the capuchin it was her lover, and that she expected nothing less than that both would be put to death. The capuchin, being unarmed, was also not a little frightened. Not finding a ready admittance, the soldier stormed and made a louder noise; and the capuchin, having no time to reflect, gathered up his rags and crept under the bed; which, being rather corpulent, he found a difficulty in doing. He was no sooner there than she opened the door, which was a ground-floor-room, and the giant stalked in, angry that he was kept at the door so long. However, as he returned in an amorous mood, her winning ways soon put him into good humour. There was no light in the room; and, of course, the monk did not fear a discovery. Strike a light said the soldier, that I may see to undress. The monk trembled, and the bed shook. What makes the bed shake so, says he, 'tis I, returned the lady, that ran against it in searching for the tinder-box. It was found, and the monk quaked within him: but, she having designedly, from the chamberpot, thrown some water into it; the tinder would not take fire. Till the capuchin knew this, every stroke of the flint was to him a double knell; but, when both had tried, and his rival swore at the tinder's not kindling, saying, it was wet; his spirits recovered. She advised him to go to the guard-house for a light, being only at the end of the street: here the monk had fresh hopes, which sunk again, on hearing the soldier say that he left his duty without leave, and dared not go, and would rather undress in the dark. He then began to grope about under the bed, for a bottle of liquors that he knew was there, and had very nearly laid hold of the capuchin's head; but, madam finding what he was at, sprung to the bed and reached it for him. He was now undressed, and they got into bed. The weight of this giant gave the poor monk less room, for he lay just over him; he was squeezed quite flat, and was nearly suffocated. He had now a little time to think; and, it first struck him, that he would rush out into the street; but then he was stark naked, for the capuchins wear no shirts; this would alarm the police; next he thought of seizing the toledo, and then, threatening the life-guard-man, demand honourable terms of capitulation, for both himself and the lady. A thousand ideas rolled in his mind. He could neither attend to any thing that was passing, nor be sensible of the pressure that was over him. At last, the man of war fell asleep, and the capuchin heard him snore; this was music to his heart; till he heard this, he was determined to keep his place till the morning; but now, he ventured, if possible, to escape. He, accordingly, worked his way out from under the bed; and, laying hold of the sword, relinquished the cowardly idea of escaping, and felt himself bold; his thoughts now were to be revenged of his rival, and make him suffer in his turn. He accordingly dressed himself in the soldier's uniform, and placed his greasy cloaths, cowl, &c. in a chair before the bed, where the soldier had placed his, and sallied forth into the street. Here he had time to think. Shall I go back, says he to himself, in the character of another life-guard man, and pretend I am sent by the officer on guard, in search of him, and take him to the guard-house as a deserter? No, this would be treacherous, and not a sufficient retaliation. I will go and acquaint the guard, who hate the capuchin friars, for the ill opinion they entertain of the licentiousness of the army, that I have traced one of that order to a house of ill fame, and induce them to accompany me and unkennel the fox. This he did; he told the officer then on duty, that, as the capuchins were very apt to censure the army, he had now an opportunity of being revenged; that he had noticed a Franciscan friar in his habit, skulking in the streets; had watched him, and traced him to the house of a common woman; that he had listened at the window, and heard them go to bed; and, that if the officer would accompany him, he would enjoy not only great diversion, but would, when he heard the capuchins inveigh against the army, be able, in future, to turn the laugh against them. The officer, pleased with the idea, took the guard with him, and followed the capuchin to the house. they rapped loud at the door, and demanded admittance for the night-guard. The noise waked the sleepy couple; and, the soldier fearing it was the guard come to apprehend him for quitting his duty, was, in his turn, much more afraid than the monk, when his rival announced his return. In his panic, he got out of bed, took up in the dark the capuchin's clothes that laid in the chair, supposing them to be his own, and hid himself where the priest had done before. The capuchin not readily gaining admittance, put his foot to the door, and forced it open. The guard entered, and demanded of the lady the body of a capuchin friar, that lodged with her that night. She hearing the monk, when he quitted her chamber, and not supposing he would inform against himself, protested she had no capuchin with her, and called upon all the saints in support of her assertion. But, the monk suspecting the retreat of his rival, stooped, and pulled from under the bed the cowl, the cloak, the sandals, the rosary, and the cord of discipline, one after the other, crying out, No capuchin! No capuchin! These are damning proofs, proofs not to be controverted; and, then stooping to the ground, cryed out, soho!— I nose him; he stinks like a fox. The only way to find a capuchin, is to nose him.—We may wind them a mile off. The lanthorn was now held down, and the man of ardour was found squeezed beneath the bed, almost stifled. Ecco lo, cries the capuchin, here he is—here he is.—The reverend father is come, you see, to do penance: let us assist him in his discipline. With this they drew him out, and belaboured him well with the cord, crying out Andiamo Signior Padre, Andiamo. The poor soldier, being without his clothes, felt the weight of St. Francis, heavier than what he liked, and bawled out that he was no capuchin, and that they were all mistaken. This occasioned a repetion of the scourging. The monk laid it on now the heavier, saying, he deserved this for denying his master, and his order. The guards lay all round the bed, in convulsions of laughter, at the scene.

The lady was frightened, and alarmed; she ran about the room exclaiming, Oime! siamo perduti— siamo incantati—siamo insorcelati! that is, "Ah me! I am ruined—I am under an enchantment—I am bewitched!

The monk, delighted at the success of his scheme, thought it was best that he should get off, before he was discovered; therefore, made an excuse to the officer for leaving him, saying, his hour of duty was come, and he was obliged to join his corps; but, recommended to to him, with a sneer, to treat the holy father with all all that respect and reverence due to so sacred a person.

The life-guard-man, no sooner got from under the bed, than he looked for his clothes, and not seeing any but the greasy robes of a capuchin friar, was persuaded that God had given him over to the devil, as a punishment for his offences; for of all men, the Neapolitan soldiers are most superstitious; and he recollected it was Friday, a fast-day; and that, in passing the statue of St. Januarius, he had not offered up a prayer to it. This is the consequence, says he, moaning, of offending heaven. I acknowledge my sin; I knew it was Friday, and yet, O flesh, flesh:—had it been any other day, I should not have been thus metamorphosed; now, must I no longer carry a sword, but a crucifix. Oh St. Januarius, thy all-searching eye has found me out!—Do, gentlemen, what you please with me. I am not what I seem to be. "True enough (said the officer) we are sensible of that. Come, Signior Padre, put on your filthy garments, and march; for we have no time to lose." Here corporal (giving him the cord) tie his hands, and let St. Francis bind him. The poor son of Mars was perfectly passive; they arrayed him in the sandals, the cloak and cowl of the capuchin, and put the great rosary round his neck; he hung his head, and a woeful figure he made.—Look in the glass, said the officer, turning him about, and see if you know yourself? Are you a capuchin now? He was shocked at his own appearance, but bore all with resignation. Thus equipped, they conducted him to the guard-house, scourging him all the way with the cord, and asking him, at every stroke, if he knew his master now?

The capuchin, during this time, had sneaked, unperceived, into his convent; and, having a second dress, put it on; taking the clothes of the life-guard-man, and laying them in a heap, before it was light, near the gate of another capuchin convent, at some distance from his own; not forgetting to pocket the trifle of money he found in the soldier's breeches, to atone for the loss of his garments. Capuchins are forbidden, by their order, to carry money; and this man says, he should not have thought of doing it, but to prevent any other from making an unlawful prize of it.

The poor soldier's comrades soon heard of his transformation, and came in troops to see him, and jeer him, in his metamorphosis; but, as he thought himself under the finger of Heaven, and does to this day, he bore all with meekness. They kept him a prisoner for a day or two; but, his clothes being found, he was set at liberty. It has been of some use to him, for he never passes St. Januarius, without muttering a prayer; nor ever visits his mistress on a Friday.

About five miles from Palermo is the city of Monreale, a small place on the brow of a very high hill, but the see of an archbishop; remarkable for its grand approach, or paved road, made by the Diocesan, winding up the mountain, supported by strong buttresses and breast-works, and adorned with borders of flowering-shrubs, urns, fountains, and inscriptions. About the midway, close to the road, rises a huge barren rock; out of the bowels of which, a fine stream gushes with great force. An artist has been employed to improve this natural fountain, which he has done, by adding to the original cliff, large masses of rugged stone, which pen up the water into one full, but irregular body; it then dashes headlong into a capacious bason, overgrown with the broad leaves of the lotus, flag, and water-lily. On the summit of this artificial rock is the statue of a boy, armed with a hatchet, watching a serpent, that seems creeping towards the water; another boy, as if roused by alarm, is represented climbing up, with a stone in his hand; whilst a little girl, with dismay strongly marked in every feature, is hiding herself behind the stump of a tree.

A gate terminates this fine approach to Monreale; the other end of the road joins an avenue of aged trees, (some of which are plantanes) leading through the plain to the gates of Palermo; which plain, for many miles, is a continued orange-garden, and fine scenery; the air perfumed. Monreale is hemmed in on every side but the northern, by lofty mountains; but, on the North, a view opens over hanging woods of olive, and of orange-trees, to Palermo, and the sea; a noble and most extensive scene.

The city is clean and neatly built, and contains above eight thousand inhabitants; but the cathedral, the second in the island, exhibits a very disagreeable specimen of Gothic taste; and, to mend it, they have white-washed the outside. Let me notice, in the way back to Palermo, the Torre Zizza, and I have done. This is a country house, of very ancient foundation, and remarkable architecture; it was built by the Saracens, during their abode in Sicily, in the ninth or tenth century, and is almost coeval with the mosque at Cordova, in Spain; but differs widely from it, in the character of its architecture. The windows of la Zizza are long, and almost round at top; instead of being pointed, or arched like a horseshoe. It is a square stone tower, three stories high, of regular courses of masonry, not at all decayed by age, with a battlement on the top; on each stone of which is a letter of some alphabet, used by the Saracens; which Mr. Swinburne supposes to be the Cufick, now only to be found in the oldest Mahomedan manuscripts. The inside is decorated with thin arches, and frosted cielings, hanging down in drops; a fountain plays in the hall, and fragrant gardens, with rich decorations, adjoin it. The tale of this town, handed down by tradition, is, that a sultan erected it, for the purpose of consining his beautiful daughter Zizza; but, as this word is said to imply gay, flowery, deckedout, this tower might have been called so from its ornaments. Even now, when the Sicilians speak of a well-drest lady, they say she is a zizzata.

CHAP. VII. Of Catania.

CATANIA is a city standing on the Western coast of Sicily; it lies at the foot of Mount Aetna, and has been several times destroyed by it. It evidently appears, says Brydone, that the irruptions of the mountain have formed the whole coast; and, in many places, have driven back the sea, for several miles, from its ancient boundaries. The account given by Sicilian authors, of the conflict between these two adverse elements, fire and water, is truly tremendous; and, in relating it, they seem to have been shaken with horror. Conceive the front of a torrent of fire, ten miles in breadth, and heaped up to an enormous height, rolling down the mountain, and pouring its flames into the ocean! The noise more dreadful than the loudest thunder; and heard, through the whole country, to an immense distance. The water seeming to retire and hide its head before its antagonist, and to confess its superiority; yielding up its possessions, and contracting its banks: salt vapours darkening the face of the sun, covering up this scene under a veil of horror, and of night; and laying waste every field and vineyard in these regions of the island. This city was in great want of a port; till, by an irruption in the sixteenth century, a stream of lava running into the sea, formed a mole, which no expence could have furnished. This lasted for some time, a safe and commodious harbour; till, at last, by a subsequent irruption, it was entirely filled up, and demolished. At this time, the torrent burst over the walls; and, laying waste great part of this beautiful city, poured into the sea. But, the superstition of the people is so great, and so great is their reliance on St. Agatha, their saint, that they cannot be made to believe, but that when such irruptions injure them, it is, because they have offended Agatha, whose influence and power can prevent such accidents if she pleases; nor would they be persuaded to remove their situation, if the lava were at their walls; from an opinion, that Agatha can keep it fromentering the city. Neither is it the veil of the saint alone, that, in their opinion, can do this, which they have long preserved as a relick; but they conceive, says Brydone, every thing, that has touched that piece of sacred attire, possessing the same miraculous property. Thus, there is a number of little bits of cotton, and linen fixed to the veil, which, after being blessed by the bishop, are supposed to acquire power enough to save any person's house, or garden; and, wherever this expedient has failed, it is always attributed to want of faith of the person, not want of faith in the veil.

Catania was founded by the Chalcidians; soon after the settlement of Syracuse, it fell into the hands of the Romans, among their earliest acquisitions in Sicily, and became the residence of the praeter; it was adorned with sumptuous buildings, and every convenience was procured to supply the natural and artificial wants of life. It was destroyed by Pompey's son, but restored with superior magnificence, by Augustus. In the reign of Decius, St. Agatha, its patroness, was martyred; on every emergency her intercession is implored; she is piously believed to have preserved Catania, from being overwhelmed by torrents of lava, or shaken to pieces by earthquakes; yet, its ancient edifices are covered, by repeated streams of volcanic matter, and almost every house; even her own church has been thrown to the ground; once, by an irruption of Aetna, twenty thousand Catanians, with their pastor at their head, were destroyed, before the sacred veil could be properly placed to check the flames. And in the last century, the irruptions, and earthquakes, raged with redoubled violence, and Catania was quite demolished.

The prince of Biscari has been at infinite pains, and spent a large sum of money, in working down to the ancient town. We descended into baths, says Swinburne, into sepulchres, an amphitheatre, and a theatre, all very much injured. They were erected on old beds of lava, and even built with square pieces of the same substance; which does not appear to have been fused by the contact of new lava.

This city has been frequently defended, from the burning streams, by the solid mass of its own ramparts; and by the air compressed between them and the lava. This appears, by the torrent having stopped, within a small distance of the walls, and taken another direction; but when the walls were broken, or low, the lava collected itself, till it rose to a great height, and then poured over in a curve. There is a wall at the foot of the old walls, where the lava, after running along the parapet, and then falling forwards, has produced a very complete lofty arch over the spring.

Since its destruction, by an irruption, in 1669, and its overthrow, by an earthquake, in 1693, Catania is reviving with great splendor; and, when all the houses now building are finished, will be a very handsome city. It has much more the features of a metropolis, and royal residence, than Palermo; the principal streets are wide, straight, and well paved with lava. An obelisk of red granite, placed on the back of an antique elephant of touchstone, or lava; a fine monument of antiquity stands in the centre of the great square; which is formed by the town-hall seminary and cathedral. One would naturally suppose, that men would be backward in erecting new habitations, especially with any degree of grandeur, on a ground so often shaken to its centre, and so often buried under the ashes of a volcano; but such is the attachment of an Italian to his native soil, and such his contempt to dangers to which they are habituated; that, like the martin, which builds its nests under the eves of houses; pull it down as often as you please, it will immediately proceed to re-building it; so will the Italians rebuild their houses, on the warm cinders of Vesuvius, the quaking plains of Calabria, and the black mountains of Sciarra, at Catania. There is a great deal of activity in the disposition of this people; they know by tradition, that their ancestors carried on a flourishing commerce; and that, before the fiery river filled it up, they had a spacious, convenient harbour, where they now have scarcely a creek for a felucca; they, therefore, wish to restore these advantages to Catania; and have often applied to government for assistance, towards forming a mole and a port.

The number of inhabitants, in Catania, amounts to about thirty thousand men; the Catanians say sixty thousand. Great part of this number belongs to the university, the only one in the island, and the nursery of all the lawyers.

The prince of Biscari has inclosed a large tract of the lava, of 1669, near the sea-side, surrounded the old fortress, where the kings of Arragon used to reside; and, in this black impenetrable surface, has made a garden, built houses, carried on a good coach road round it; planted trees, in earth brought from other places; and, what seems almost incomprehensible, has formed two large ponds of fresh water, supplied by springs, that ooze through the lava; stocked them them with fish, and water-sowl, and preserved them from the fury of the sea, by a strong pier, the only barrier between the salt and fresh water. The spot, where his villa stands on the lava, was formerly fifty feet deep in water; and the height of the lava, above the present level of the sea, is not less than fifty feet more.

This prince has a museum of the antiquities, he has dug out of the ruins of Catania. His collection is very rich and extensive, especially in Etruscan vases, lamps, and antiquities, of terra cotta. One of the most remarkable lamps is moulded into the form of a camel, with an amphora on each side, fixed in a cradle. The water-carriers, at Palermo, use a similar contrivance to this day, for conveying water upon asses. Among his busts and statues, some are conspicuous for the perfection of their sculpture; others for the persons they represent. It would require a volume to describe them; let it suffice to say, that his collection consists of whatever Catania and Sicily produce, that is curious in antiquity.

Among other curiosities, is the organ at the Benedictine convent, built by a Neapolitan priest. The tunes of all sorts of wind and strung instruments are imitated with the most perfect illusion. One of the pipes gives an echo in so aerial a manner, that you follow the sound to its distant reverberations, till it loses itself in space.

Catania, says Brydone, is looked upon as one of the most ancient cities in the world. Their legends aver, that it was founded by the Cyclops, or giants of Aetna, supposed to be the first inhabitants of Sicily, after the deluge; and, some Sicilian writers pretend, it was built by Deucalion and Pyrrha, as soon as the waters subsided, and had got down again to the foot of the mountain. Its ancient name was Cataetna, or the city of Aetna. It is now reckoned the third city in the kingdom; though, since Messina has been destroyed, it may well be considered as the second. It has a bishop; and the bishop's revenues, which are considerable, arise principally from the sale of the snow on Mount Aetna; one small portion of which, lying in the north of the mountain, is said to bring him in upwards of a thousand pounds a year; for Aetna furnishes snow and ice, not only to the whole island of Sicily, but likewise to Malta, and a great part of Italy, and makes a very considerable branch of commerce; for, even the peasants in these hot countries, regalo themselves with ices, during the summer heats; and, there is no entertainment, given by the nobility, of which these do not always make a principal part. A famine of snow, they say, would be more grievous, than a famine of either corn or wine. It is a common observation among them, that without the snows of Aetna, their island could not be inhabited; but, Aetna not only cools them in summer, but warms them in winter; the fuel for the greater part of the island, being carried from the immense and inexhaustible forests of this volcano.

Near to the walls of the ancient city, many of which are standing, near sixty feet high, and of great strength, and yet the lava of 1669 overflowed them; near to these walls, and the Benedictine convent, they have discovered the fragments of a famous temple of Ceres, a nymphaeum, the gymnasium, and a naumachia, that was near the castle; the vestiges of which were to be seen, before the lava of 1669 had covered them; and two arches of the aqueducts, leading to which, are still visible in the lava.

So many public edifices, crouded together in so small a space, must have left but little room for the houses of individuals, which may lead us to conclude, that this city has been embellished, at different periods; or, that the private houses were extremely small, in comparison to the public buildings; or, that ancient Catania was still more ornamented than extensive; and, consequently, more rich than popular. The modern town is of the same nature; for, though the Catanians estimate their number at sixty thousand, we see nothing in the streets but convents, churches, and palaces, separated by a few private houses.

It is difficult to assign the epocha of this splendor of Catania. The great quantity of Latin inscriptions, discovered in the different edifices, the baths, the naumachia, &c. known only to the Romans, lead us to determine its splendor to have been in their time, which continued to the incursions of the Barbarians; who broke the statues, pillaged the bronzes, and melted down the metals to carry them off. Next came the Normans; who, barbarously catholic, piously despoiled the beautiful temples of their marbles, to construct their miserable churches.

Catania, now a handsome city, but without an inn, is, most likely, to be again destroyed by commotion of the mountain. Catania is now purged and purified from all the infection contracted from heathen rites; and the rotundo, like the pantheon at Rome, which seems to have out-lived other buildings, owing to its singular form, is become a Christian church. It is not a little curious to consider, says Brydone, how small the deviation is, in the present rites, from those of the ancients, in almost every article. It is a just observation; that, during the long reign of heathenism, superstition had exhausted her talent for invention; so that, when a superstitious spirit seized Christians, they were under a necessity of borrowing from their predecessors, and imitating some part of their idolatry. In some places, the very images still remain. They have only christened them; and, the statue that bore the name of Venus, or Proserpine, is now called Mary Magdalene, or the Virgin. The same ceremonies are daily performed before these images, in the same language, and nearly in the same manner. The saints are perpetually coming down in person, and working miracles, as did the heathen gods of old. The walls of the temples are covered with the vows of pilgrims, as they were formerly. The holy-water, which was held in such detestation by the first Christians, is again revered and sprinkled about with the same devotion, as in the time of Paganism. The same incest is burnt by priests, arrayed in the same manner, with the same grimaces, genuflexions, before the same images, and in the same temples too. In short, so nearly do the rites coincide, that, were the pagan high-priest to return and re-assume his functions, he would only have to learn a few new names; to get the mass, the paters, and the eves by heart. Brydone says, he took notice of this to a Roman Catholic nobleman, who is not the most zealous sectary in the world, and he frankly owned the truth of the observation.

Not far from Catania, between that and Messina, is the city of Iaci; near which Homer has placed the landing of Ulysses, and which still bears the name of Porto d'Ulysse. Homer must have made a very bad choice, for a place to land his hero, or else the lava has greatly changed its form. The shoals, or rocks, between this and Catania, which are a hundred feet above the level of the sea; and, probably, as many below it, are entire masses of lava. It is impossible to conceive, how these masses have become insulated, with gulphs between them, of such profundity, as to make the water black as ink; unless some dreadful convulsions of the North have removed the sandy bottom, on which these masses had run, when liquid; and have thus separated them from the shore, and formed them into rocks.

CHAP. VIII. Of Syracuse, and the chief Antiquities of the Island.

THE great and mighty Syracuse, whose spacious harbour once received innumerable fleets; whose battles were fought by the Athenians, within its circumference; and, where the triumphant Carthaginians found their tombs, is now a desolate, and a filthy wretched place; but, the isle of Ortyra, which is the modern town, and was anciently the fortress and castle of Dionysius, has been fortified by the King of Spain, though without artillery. Those who come here, by sea, are obliged to perform quarantine, at the instance of those who farm out the lazarettos of Sicily, and oblige all vessels to quarantine, though there is not a shed, nor even ground enough for the prows, of the little craft that come here, to rest upon. This difficulty they oblige mariners to put up with, for twenty-eight days, in order to fill the pockets of those who guard the vessel, by little indulgencies they shew them.

The fountain of Arethusa is one of the chief curiosities, and pieces of antiquity here. It is an angular bason, of sulphureous water, close to the sea, formed by two wells, but not antique wells, and where now the dirtiest linen is washed, by a number of still dirtier women; who, almost naked, and with their petticoats tucked up, present the most disgusting scene immodesty can display. Notwithstanding the wretched condition of this fountain, it appears miraculous, that, from the centre of a rock, almost surrounded by the sea, a spring should break out in streams; which, when united, must rather have resembled the mouth of a river, than a fountain. Near this fountain, was the palace of Verres, and that delicious walk which Cicero accuses the proconsul of converting into a scene of debauchery. It is still the public walk, but has now no delights; being nothing but a narrow sauntering place, between a great wall; and the parapet of the harbour planted with a few sorry birches. At the bottom of the wall are two fragments, of a Norman building, which might have been part of the palace of Verres.

Of the temples of Diana and Minerva, the palace of Dyonisius, his garden, his tomb, and those famous baths, of the celebrated Daphnis, the son of Mercury, and a nymph, the inventor of pastoral poetry, who charmed Diana by his songs and verses, and was punished with blindness for his infidelity, nothing remains but the temple of Minerva, converted into a cathedral; and part of the temple of Diana, now in the chamber of a private individual, being two pieces of columns, fixed up to support a roof, and enlarge bis apartment.

In Acradina, originally part of Syracuse, stands the church of St. John, in some low grounds, covering the entrance of immense catacombs, where the ancient Sicilians buried their dead; the primitive saithful are supposed to have assembled here, in times of persecution; and to have interred their brethren in these vaults. These vaults are formed in streets, cut through one continued stratum of soft stone, a sediment of marine bodies; crossing each other in many directions, and are hewn with more care and regularity, than the catacombs of St. Januarius, at Naples. At stated distances, there are large circular rooms, lined with stucco, and pierced at the top, so as to admit light and air. On each side of the walls, are recesses cut into the rock; and, in the floor of these cavities, coffins of all sizes have been hollowed out. In some places, there have been twenty troughs, one behind another; and skeletons have been found in them, with a piece of money in their mouths.

Near the port, they shew the spot where stood Archimedes's house; and also the tower, from whence he is said to have set fire to the Roman galleys, with his burning glasses. Mr. Brydone thinks, if there is any degree of truth in this story, it must have been with a number of looking-glasses, not convex glasses, or concave speculums; as it would have been difficult, with such glasses, to have caused a focus of such a great length; but, Mr. Buffon has made the experiment with looking-glasses. He fixed four hundred small mirrors in a kind of frame, and disposed them in such a manner, that the rays, reflected from each of them, fell exactly on the same point; by which means he melted lead, at the distance of a hundred and twenty feet, and set fire to a hay-stack, at a much greater distance.

The end of this philosopher was remarkable. When Marcellus, the Roman general, was before the
ARCHIMEDES SUMMONED before the ROMAN GENERAL.

walls of this city, the same of Archimedes reached him; and he dispatched a Roman soldier to bring him. On his arrival at his house, he told the philosopher his message; but, he being too taken up with studies, paid little attention to the summons; which so exasperated the soldier, that, to revenge his disobedience to the general, he immediately ran him through the body, and killed him.

The chief remains of antiquity, besides those I have mentioned, are a theatre, and amphitheatre; many sepulchres, the latomic, and the ear of Dionysius. The latomie now makes a noble subterraneous garden; and is, indeed, a romantic and beautiful spot. Most of it is about a hundred feet below the level of the earth, and of an incredible extent. The whole is hewn out of a rock, composed of a concretion of shells, gravel, and other marine bodies. The bottom of this immense quarry, from whence, probably, the greatest part of Syracuse was built, is now covered with an exceeding rich soil; and, as no wind from any part of the compass can touch it, it is filled with a great variety of the finest shrubs and fruit-trees, which bear, with vast luxuriance, and are never blasted. The oranges, citrons, bergamots, pomegranates, figs, &c. are all of a remarkable size, and fine quality. Some of these trees, but more particularly the olives, grow out of the hard rock, where there is no visible soil, and exhibit a very uncommon and pleasing appearance. This is the same spot, so celebrated by Cicero, about eighteen hundred years ago. Opus est ingens, says he, magnificum regum ac tyrannorum. Totum ex saxo in mirandam altitudinem depresso, &c.

The ear of Dionysius is no less a monument, of ingenuity and magnificence, than of the cruelty of that tyrant. It is a huge cavern, cut out of the hard rock, in form of a human ear; the perpendicular height, about eighty feet; and its length, no less than two hundred and fifty. This cavern was said to be so contrived, that every sound made in it was collected, and united into one focus, which was called the tympanum; and, exactly opposite to it, the tyrant had made a small hole, which communicated with a little apartment, where he used to conceal himself. He applied his own ear at this hole, and is said to have heard distinctly, every word that was spoken in the cavern below. This apartment was no sooner finished, than he put to death all the workmen that had been employed in it. He then confined all that he suspected were his enemies; and, by over-hearing their conversation, judged of their guilt; and condemned, or acquitted them, accordingly.

The amphitheatre is in the form of a very eccentric ellipse, and much fallen to decay; but the theatre is so entire, that most of the seats still remain. There are near twenty remains of temples, but none that are distinguishable; a few fine columns of Jupiter Olympus still remain; and the temple of Minerva, now converted, as I have observed, into the cathedral, is almost entire.

Syracuse was composed of four cities; Ortygia is the only one remaining, by much the smallest, situated in the island of that name; is about two miles round, and contains about fourteen thousand people. The ruins of the other three, Tycha, Acradina, and Neapoli, are computed at twenty-two miles in circumference; almost the whole space of which is now converted into rich vineyards, orchards, and cornfields. The walls of these are, indeed, built with broken marbles, full of engravings and inscriptions, but most of them defaced and spoiled.

On a hill, near Ortygia, is a convent of capuchin friars. When a stranger walks up to this monastery, he sees neither verdure nor tree, all appears one dreary rock; and, little does he suspect he is within reach of extensive orchards, which, by their produce, yield a handsome income to the friars. No sight can be more singular than the gardens of this convent, which are, in some measure, subterraneous; being contained in the areas of immense excavations, made by cutting stone for the ancient city. These areas are covered with a thick grove of trees, loaded with rich scented blossoms, and beautiful fruit. The vaults, of this convent, have the property of drying the bodies of the dead, in a very short space of time; after which, they are dressed in religious habits, and placed as statues in niches, on each side of the subterranean alleys.

The diocese of Syracuse produces above forty different sorts of wine; the honey of the hills is as clear as amber, and of delicious flavour; and vegetables are admirable in their kind, particularly brocoli, which grows to a very great size. Syracuse is the mildest climate that can be for a winter's residence; two or three days of sharp Easterly winds excepted; the remainder of the winter months is a continual spring. On the 16th of January, the vines which are kept low, and closed pruned, had shot out new leaves; the gardens were shaded with flowers, and fresh almonds were gathered from the trees. The river, at Ortygia, throws up great quantities of fine amber. Sugar-canes, ready jointed for chewing, are sold in the market, and salt may be had gratis.

Agrigentum, now Girgenti, was the second ancient city, in size, to Syracuse; it is situated on the East coast of Sicily, on the top of a mountain, eleven hundred feet above the level of the sea, and about four miles distant from the port of Agrigentum; from which place the road, on each side, is bordered by a row of exceeding large American aloes. When Brydone was there, upwards of one-third of them were in full bloom, and making the most beautiful appearance. The flower stems, of this noble plant, are, in general, between twenty and thirty feet high (some more) and are covered with flowers from top to bottom, which taper regularly, and form a beautiful kind of pyramid; the base, or pedestal of which, is the fine spreading leaves of that plant. With us, they are reckoned only to flower once in a hundred years; but in Sicily they blow always at the latest, the sixth year; and often the fifth. The whole substance of the plant being carried into the stem and the flowers, the leaves begin to decay, as soon as the bloom is completed, and a numerous offspring of young plants are produced round the root of the old one; these are slipped off, and formed into new plantations; either for hedges, or for avenues to their country houses.

The city of Girgenti is irregular and ugly, but it looks grand at a distance; lying on the slope of the mountain. The houses are mean, the streets dirty, crooked and narrow, yet it contains near twenty thousand people; a sad reduction from its ancient grandeur, when it was said to consist of no less than eight hundred thousand.

The antiquities of this place are, perhaps, more considerable than any in Sicily. The ruins, of the ancient city, lie about eight miles from the modern one. These, like those of the Syracuse, are mostly converted into corn-fields, vineyards, and orchards; but the remains of the temples, here, are more conspicuous. Four of these temples stood pretty much in a right line. Half of the first remains; the second has every column standing; consisting of thirteen fluted Doric pillars, with all their bases, capitals, entablatures, &c. complete. The third temple is that of Hercules, and contained that famous statue so much celebrated by Cicero. Near to this lie ruins of the temple of Jupiter Olympus, supposed to have been the largest in the heathen world. It is now called the giant's temple, but is a perfect ruin. It was exactly, we are told, of the same dimensions with the church of St. Peter, at Rome; but this we apprehend not to be true: the temple of Esculapius (the ruins of which are still to be seen) are not less celebrated for a statue of Apollo, which was taken from this temple by the Carthaginians, and continued the greatest ornament of Carthage for many years; and was, at last, restored by Scipio, at the final destruction of that city. Some Sicilians alledge, that it was afterwards carried to Rome, and is the Apollo of Belvidere.

The ancient walls are mostly cut out of the rock; the catacombs and sepulchres are all very great; and the monument of Tero, king of Agrigentum, one of the first of the Sicilian tyrants, whose name is mentioned by Herodotus and Pindar, must be more than two thousand years old.

All these mighty ruins, and the whole mountain on which it stands, are composed of a concretion of sea-shells, and cemented by a kind of sand, or gravel, and now become as hard, and, perhaps, more durable than marble; a proof, that this globe must have under-gone many convulsions, not recorded in any history.

The magnificence, the pomp, the hospitality of the ancient inhabitants of Agrigentum, may be read in Diodorus Siculus, Pliny, Solinus, Virgil, Timeus, and others. In the great church, at Agrigentum, there is a remarkable echo; something in the manner of our whispering gallery at St. Paul's, though more difficult to be accounted for. If one person stands at the West gate, and another places himself on the cornice, at the most distant point of the church, exactly behind the great altar, they can hold a conversation in very low whispers. For many years this singularity was not known; and, several of the confessing chairs being placed near the great altar, the wags, who were in the secret, used to take their station at the door of the cathedral; and thus heard, distinctly, every word that passed between the confessor and his penitent; of which they did not fail to make their own use, when occasion offered. The most secret intrigues were discovered; and such ladies as were disposed to intrigue, were very well known. This lead every woman in Agrigentum to change, either her gallant, or her confessor. Yet, still it was the same.—At last, however, the cause was found out; the chairs were removed, and other precautions taken, to prevent the future discovery of such sacred mysteries.

CHAP. IX. Of the Manners of the Sicilians, their Amusements, and Travelling.

THE Sicilians, says Brydone, are much more animated in conversation, than either the French or Neapolitans; and their action is generally so just, and so expressive of their sentiments, that without hearing what is said, one may comprehend the subject of their discourse. The origin of this custom they carry so far back, as the time of the earliest tyrants of Syracuse; who, to prevent conspiracies, had forbidden their subjects, under heavy penalties, to be seen talking together in parties. This induced them to invent a method of communicating their ideas by action, which they pretend has been transmitted to posterity ever since.

The people of Sicily, till lately, retained a great many ridiculous and superstitious customs, particularly in their marriage and funeral ceremonies; some of them are still retained in the wild and mountainous part of the island. As soon as the marriage ceremony is performed, two of the attendants are ready to cram a spoonful of honey into the mouths of the bride and bridegroom, as emblematical of their love and union, which they hope will continue as sweet to their souls, as is honey to their palates; they then begin to throw handfuls of wheat upon them, which is continued all the way to the house of the bridegroom; probably, some remains of an ancient rite to Ceres. They fancy it procures them a numerous progeny; but, without this, they are abundantly prolific. Women frequently, says Brydone, having upwards of forty children. Carrera mentions one who had forty-seven. The young couple are not allowed to partake of the marriage-feast; and this to teach them temperance, and patience; but, when dinner is finished, a great bone is presented to the bridegroom, by the bride's father, or one of her nearest relations, who pronounces these words, "Rodi tu quest' osso, &c." "Pick you this bone, for you have now taken in hand to pick one, which you will find much harder, and of more difficult digestion." Hence, probably, the old saying, "I'll give him a bone to pick."

Like most other nations in Europe, they carefully avoid marrying in the month of May, as inauspicious; a piece of superstition, perhaps, older than the time of the Romans. But the marriages, of the Sicilian nobility, are celebrated with great magnificence. The ladies marry very young, and often live to see the fifth or sixth generation. They are generally sprightly and agreeable, says Brydone; but what the English would call ordinary. They have remarkable fine hair, know how to adorn it to the greatest advantage, and pride themselves on their female ancestors', in a dearth of bow-strings, when Palermo was besieged, cutting off their hair, and twisting it into strings, for destruction to their enemies; which heroism saved the town till assistance was procured. Their hair, now, discharges no other shafts than those of Cupid; and the only cords it forms, are the cords of love.

The Sicilians are much fonder of study, than their neighbours on the continent, and their education much more attended to; so opposite are they to the Italian nobility in general, who have nothing but small-talk; the Sicilian nobility talk on subjects of literature, history, and politics, but chiefly of poetry; this is a universal topic. Every one, in some period of his life, is sure to be inspired; and a lover is never believed, whilst he speaks in prose; but is reckoned true, in proportion as he is poetical.

Many of the young nobility speak English, and are well acquainted with our poets and philosophers; our language is a part of their polite education, and they pride themselves in associating with the well-bred English; but do not seem pleased with their neighbours of the continent.

The native language of Sicily is now a mixture, of Norman, Roman, German, Italian, Spanish, and some remnants of the old tongue; the island having been over-run, at times, by these nations. I searched among their literature, says Swinburne, and met with no good prose-composition; and scarcely a poet of moderate genius is to be discovered among versifiers that have rhymed their native dialect.

The luxury of the people here, says Brydone, like that of the Neapolitans, consists chiefly in their equipages and horses; but, by a wise law of the King of Sardinia, still in force, the viceroy alone is allowed to drive in Palermo with six horses; the praeter, the archbishop, the president of the parliament, with four; all the rest of the nobility are restricted to two, but drive four out of the city. Every family of distinction has, at least, two or three carriages in daily use; the wife of a man of fashion has always one at her command; and the upper servants of the first families have one also for them.

Prince is a common title here; the eldest sons take the title of marquis, or count, and the younger sons are called dons; the daughters donnas, before their christian names; as we call the daughters, and younger sons of dukes, lady and lord.

They make very splendid entertainments; and it is a custom, says Swinburne, at such entertainments at Girgenti, (he is not sure it was the same at Palermo) that none of the family will taste a morsel till the strangers have helped themselves; they are then to help the persons of the family they dine with. This custom, he apprehends, was founded on an idea, of having given every thing to the guest, and then receiving at his hands what he could spare.

Some of their amusements we have described. They have a very good opera at Palermo; and Brydone says, he was present at a ballet, which consisted of a representation of Vauxhall Gardens, in London; in which all the outrè characters of the English, in dress, and manner, caricatured, from the upper to the lower class of people, are exhibited, and with no small degree of humour. Three quakers were introduced, as duped by three ladies of the town, in concert with three jack-tars, their lovers.

The Sicilians are passionately fond of loud wind and instrumental music; and, upon great holidays, will collect before a church-door, forty or fifty drums, all beating together; for the greater the noise, the more honour for the saint.

The account of travelling in Sicily, where there are no post-roads, no public-carriages, or any inns, we will give our readers from Brydone; who crossed the island in two or three places. Being well recommended, he had the favour of those who could accommodate him with mules, guards, &c.

When Mr. Brydone proposed setting off from Messina, towards Catania, the prince of Villa Franca told him, he would give orders for guards to attend him, who should be answerable for every thing; that whatever number of mules he had occasion for, should be at the door of the inn, at any hour he should appoint; that the guards he should send, were men of the most determined resolution, as well as the most approved fidelity; and would not fail to chastise, on the spot, any person who should presume to impose on him.

These guards, Mr. Brydone discovered afterwards, to be some of the most daring, and hardened villains, perhaps, that are to be met with upon earth; who, in any other country, would have been broken on the wheel, or hung in chains; but are here publicly protected. The prince's secretary told him, that in the East part of the island, called Val Demoni (from the devils that are supposed to inhabit Mount Aetna) it has ever been found impracticable to extirpate the banditti; there being numberless caverns, and subterraneous passages, in that mountain, where no troops could possibly pursue them; that, besides, as they are known to take a dreadful revenge on all who have offended them, the prince of Villa Franca has embraced it, not only as the safest, but as the wisest and most political scheme, to become their declared patron and protector; and such of them as think proper to leave their recesses, though only for a time, are sure to meet with good encouragement and security in his service. They enjoy the most unbounded confidence; which, in no instance, they have ever yet been found to make an improper, or a dishonest use of. They are cloathed in the prince's livery, yellow and green, with silverlace; and wear likewise a badge of their honourable order, which entitles them to universal fear and respect from the people.

In some circumstances, these banditti are the most respectable people in the island; and have, by much, the highest and most romantic notions of what they call their point of honour; that, however criminal they may be with regard to society in general; yet, with respect to one another, and to every person, to whom they have once professed it, they have ever maintained the most unshaken fidelity. The magistrates have often been obliged to protect them, and even pay them court, being known to be perfectly determined and desperate; and so extremely vindictive, that they will put any person to death, who has ever given them just cause of provocation. On the other hand, Brydone was well-informed, that it never was known, that any person who had put himself under their protection, and shewed that he had confidence in them, had cause to repent it, or was injured by them, in the most minute trifle; but, on the contrary, they will protect him from impositions of every kind, and scorn to go halves with the landlord, like most other conductors and travelling servants; and will defend them with their lives, if there is occasion. But those, of their number, who have enlisted themselves in the service of society, are known and respected by the other banditti all over the island; and the persons of those they accompany, are ever held sacred. For these reasons, most travellers chuse to hire a couple of them, from town to town, and may then travel over the island in safety. Two recent stories will serve to illustrate their character.

A number of people were found digging in a place, where some treasure was supposed to have been concealed, during the plague; this being forbidden under severe penalties, they were immediately taken to prison, and expected to have been treated without mercy; but, luckily for the rest, one of these banditti happened to be of the number. He wrote to the prince of Villa Franca, and made use of such powerful arguments in their favour, they were all immediately set at liberty. This serves to shew their consequence with the civil power. The other story will give our readers a strong idea of their barbarous ferocity, and the horrid mixture of stubborn vice, and virtue, (if it may be called by that name) that seems to direct their actions. They have a practice of borrowing money from the country-people, who dare never refuse them; and, if they promise to pay it, they have ever been found punctual and exact, both as to the time and sum; and would rather rob and murder an innocent person, than fail of payment at the day appointed; and this they have been often obliged to do, in order (as they say) to fulfil their engagements, and save their honour.

It happened, at the time Mr. Brydone was at Messina, that the brother of one of these fellows having occasion for money, and not knowing how to procure it, determined to make use of his brother's name and authority; an artifice, which he thought would not easily be discovered. He, accordingly, went to a country priest, and told him, his brother had occasion for twenty ducats, which he desired he would immediately lend him. The priest assured him, he had not then so large a sum; but that, if he would return in a few days, it should be ready for him. The other replied, that he was afraid to return to his brother with that answer; and desired that he would, by all means, take care to keep out of his way, at least, till such time as he had pacified him; otherwise, he could not be answerable for the consequences. As bad fortune would have it, the priest and the robber met in a narrow road. The former trembled, as the latter approached; and, at last, dropped on his knees to beg for mercy. The robber, astonished at his behaviour, desired to know the cause of it. The trembling priest answered, "Il denaro, il denaro," "The money, the money"—but send your brother to-morrow and you shall have it. The haughty robber assured him, that he disdained taking money of a poor priest; adding, that if any of his brothers had been low enough to make such a demand, he himself was ready to advance the sum. The priest then acquainted him with the visit he had received the preceding night, from his brother, by his order; assuring him, that had he been master of the sum, he should immediately have lent it. Well, said the robber, I will now convince you, whether my brother or I are most to be believed; you shall go with me to his house, which is but a few miles off. On their arrival at the door, the robber called on his brother; who, never suspecting the discovery, came immediately to the balcony; but, on perceiving the priest, began to make excuses for his conduct. The robber told him, there was no excuse to be made, that he only desired to know the fact, whether he had gone to borrow money of that priest, in his name? On his saying he had, the robber with deliberate coolness, raised his blunderbuss to his shoulder, and shot him dead; and, turning to the astonished priest, "You will now be persuaded," said he, "that I have no intention of robbing you at least."

This hero might have been one of the guards, appointed to conduct Mr. Brydone and his company on the road; for, the prince's secretary told him, that if any person should presume to impose upon him, to the value of a single baioc (which is a very small coin) he would certainly put him to death. He gave the secretary an ounce, about eleven shillings, on which he thanked his excellency, for so he called him; and declared, bowing, he was the most honorabilis signor, he had ever met with; and that, if he pleased, he himself would have the honour of attending him, and would chastise any person who should presume to take the wall of him, or affront him in the least.

The guards sent with Mr. Brydone, were two of the most resolute, and desperate of this gang; two great drawcansir figures, armed cap-a-pie, with a broad hanger each, two enormous pistols, and a long arquebuse, kept cocked and ready for action, in all suspicious places; where they recounted wonderful stories of robberies and murders, in which they had been the principal actors. They took great pains that the travellers, under their escort, should not pay too much, taxing the bills as they thought proper. So, one day's dinner, for eleven men, and feeding ten mules and horses, did not amount to half-a-guinea; and, though these guards are paid one ounce each, per day; they save, at least, one-half of it in the bills. They entertained their company with some of their feats, and made no scruple of owning, that they had put several people to death; but added, Mas tutti, tutti honorabilmenté. That is to say, they did not do it in a dastardly manner, nor without just provocation. There possibly may be truth in their stories; a number of gibbets being erected on the road in terrorem; and every little baron has the power of life and death in his own domain. Four-and-twenty of these desperate banditti, were lately seized, after a strong resistance, wherein several were killed on both sides; and, notwithstanding some were under the protection of the nobility, and in their service, they were all hanged.

CHAP X. On their Government, &c.

THE feudal system was first introduced here, by count Rugiero, about the middle of the eleventh century; immediately after he had driven the Saracens out of the island, and has continued ever since. He divided Sicily into three parts; the first, by consent of his army, was given to the church; the second he bestowed on his officers; and the third he reserved for himself.

Of these three branches, or as they call them, braccios (arms) he composed his parliament; and the form still remains. The braccio militare is composed of all the barons of the kingdom, to the number of two hundred and fifty-one, who are still obliged to military service. Their chief is the prince of Butero, who is hereditary president of the parliament; for, in conformity to the feudal government, some of the great officers are still hereditary. The three archbishops, all the bishops, abbé's, priors, and dignified clergy, amounting to near seventy, form the braccio ecclesiastice. The archbishop of Palermo is their chief. The braccio demaniale is formed by election, like our House of Commons. There are forty-three royal cities, stiled Demaniale, that have a right to elect members. Every house-holder has a vote at this election. Their chief is the member for Palermo, who is also praeter, or mayor of the city. He is an officer of the highest rank, and his power is very extensive; inferior only to the viceroy, in whose absence the greatest part of the authority devolves on him. He has a company of grenadiers for his body-guard, and receives the title of Excellency.

The praeter, with six senators, who are styled patricians, have the management of the civil government of the city. He is appointed every year by the King, or by the viceroy, which is the same thing; for the people do not even think of acting; so that the very shadow of liberty has now disappeared, as well as the substance. In short, all courts, both civil and criminal, are appointed by royal authority; and all offices depend entirely on the caprice of the sovereign; but they have no inquisition.

The laws of Sicily are scattered through a number of volumes; these, the King of Sardinia intended to abridge, and collect into one code; but, unfortunately, was not long enough in possession of the island, to accomplish this useful work; but, where there is an authority above law, law can be of little use.

The power of the viceroy is very absolute; he has not only the command of all the military force in the kingdom, but likewise presides with unbounded authority in all civil tribunals; and, being also invested with the legantine power, his sway is equally great in matters of religion. He has the right of nominating to all the great offices in the kingdom, and confirming of all dignities, both civil and ecclesiastical.

In visiting the prisons, a ceremony which he performs with great pomp, twice a year; he has the power of liberating whatever prisoners he pleases; of reducing, or altering their sentences; their crimes and accusations having been first read over to him. And, that there may be some appearance of a regard to law and justice, his counsellor always attends him, on these occasions, to point out the limits of the law.

The whole military force of Sicily, amounts, at present, to nine thousand five hundred men; about twelve hundred of which are cavalry. Many of their cities and fortresses would require a very numerous garrison to defend them; particularly Messina, Syracuse, or Palermo: but, indeed, the state of their fortifications is such, as well as that of their artillery, that were they inclined, they could but make a small defence.

If this island had a good navy, or was in the hands of a good naval power, it must command the whole trade of the Levant. There are several little ports at each end of it; besides the great ones of Trapani, Syracuse, and Messina, which lie pretty near the three angles of the triangle. Whatever ships had passed either of these, the others would be apprized of, in the space of half an hour, by means of signal towers, which are erected all round the island, to warn them against sudden invasions from the Barbary coast. These towers are built on every little promontory, within sight of each other. Fires are always kept ready for lighting, and a person is appointed to watch at each of them; so that the whole island, they say, can be alarmed in the space of an hour.

The Sicilians have no other means, says De Non, of borrowing on their land, but of the farmers, on the renewal of their leases; the lands being ever entailed on the eldest son, and subject to no other incumberance, than annuities for the younger boys, or portions for the girls; the feudal laws being in as full force for the nobility, in Sicily, as at the Norman conquest, which produces law-suits for inheritances without end; and enriches a swarm of lawyers, who are found in crowds at Palermo, and who are all wealthy. Right being here put up to auction, and justice become a branch of commerce, all the money in the kingdom flows into this city, through the channel of the tribunals; and is again distributed among the public, by the luxury of their presidents and counsellors.

Remote from their King, whom they know only by his representative, the Sicilians are accustomed to consider him as a pensioner; whom they defraud of his due, whilst they pride themselves in granting him free gifts; and, from time to time, make experiments of disobedience, with the sole view of performing an act that may assert their freedom.

The Sicilians have had so many sovereigns, that they are accustomed to like none of them; and to give the preference only to him, with whom they can make the best conditions. They are ever ready to receive the sovereign, who establishes his authority by force, or him who grants them the most favourable terms; but always with the implied reserve of recurring, in case of violence and tyranny, to the well-known methods of revolt, Sicilian vespers, or others of the same nature. Their country furnishing them with all sorts of productions in abundance, they are more difficult to reduce, than any nation; it being impossible to keep them in subjection, by refusing them any kind of supplies. They may be despoiled, but can never be starved, or ruined.

ERRATA.

- VOL. XV. Page 318, line 8, for Chian and Valernian, read Chios and Falernian.

- VOL. XVI. Page 9, the last line but one should read thus, Pallida mors aequo pulsat pede pauperum tabernas,

A DESCRIPTION OF THE ISLAND OF MALTA. FROM DE NON, BRYDONE, AND OTHERS.

CHAP. I. Of the History, Constitution, &c.

MALTA was anciently called Iberia, afterwards Ogygia; and by the Greeks, Melite; from which, at last, the Saracens formed the appellation of Malta. Mention is made of this island, Acts xxviii. Its length is computed at about twenty Italian miles; its greatest breadth twelve; and its circumference sixty. It is situated in the Mediterranean sea, eighty miles South of Sicily; lying in North Latitude 36, and between 14 and 15 degrees West Longitude.

Malta, as well as Sicily, was long under the tyranny of the Saracens; from which they were both delivered about the middle of the eleventh century, by the valour of the Normans; after which time, the fate of Malta commonly rested on that of Sicily; till the emperor Charles V. about 1530, gave it, together with the adjoining island of Gozzo, to the knights of St. John, of Jerusalem; who, at that time, had lost the island of Rhodes. In testimony of this concession, the grand master is still obliged, every year, to send a falcon to the King of Sicily, or his viceroy; and, on every new succession, to swear allegiance: and to receive, from the hands of the Sicilian monarch, the investiture of these two islands.

Unproductive in itself, (for it is one solid rock, not covered five inches with soil) the garrison, and fortifications necessary for its defence, were too burthen-some for its successive sovereigns. It became the emporium, and place of refreshment, for all European vessels, trading in the Mediterranean; and fell, successively, under the power of every invader. It required, therefore, a sovereignty, which, from its nature could only remain neuter; too feeble to give umbrage to any other power, and derives all it subsistance from without. It was necessary also, that its possessors, wealthy in other countries, should bring with them, in specie, what the island is obliged to expend in the purchase of articles of subsistence; that they should be at once monks, soldiers, and bachelors, composing one and the same family; the economy of whose individual members should revert, by inheritance, to the accumulated mass, which pays the labour, and provides for the subsistence, of the active inhabitants; who had encreased, since the establishment of the order, from 10,000, to 50,000, including the two adjoining isles of Gozzo and Cumino.

Could the sovereign then do a more politic thing, than bestow it on the knights, as he did; by which it is become an epitome of all Europe, and an assemblage of the younger brothers, who are commonly the best, of its first families? It is, probably, one of the best academies for politeness, in this part of the globe; besides, where every one is entitled, by law, to demand satisfaction for the least breach of it, people are under a necessity of being very exact, and circumspect, in their words and actions.

All the knights, and commanders, have much the appearance of gentlemen, and men of the world. Here are no characters in the extreme. The ridicules and prejudices, of every particular nation, are, by degrees softened, and worn off, by the familiar intercourse and collision of each other. It is curious, says Brydone, to observe the effect it produces upon various people, that compose this little medley. The French skip, the German strut, and the Spanish stalk, are mingled together, in such small proportions, that none are striking; yet every one of these nations still retain something of their original chacteristic; for though the Parisian has, in a great measure, lost his assuming air; the Spaniard his taciturnity and solemnity; the German his formality and his pride; yet, still you see the German, the Frenchman, and the Spaniard.

This institution, which is a strange compound of military and ecclesiastic, has now subsisted for near seven hundred years; and, though one of the first-born, has long survived every other child of chivalry. It possesses great riches, in most of the Catholic counties of Europe; and did so in England, before the time of Henry VIII. but that capricious tyrant seized on all their possessions, when he plundered the church.

The grand master, who is the sovereign of this little country, is chosen by a committee of twenty-one, nominated by seven nations, three out of each nation. The election must be over within three days after the death of the former grand master; and, during these three days, scarce a soul sleeps at Malta. All is cabal and intrigue; and most of the knights are masked, to prevent their particular attachment, and connexions from being known. The moment the election is over, every thing returns to its former channel.

When we consider the credit of the work from which the following story is taken, namely, the well-written History of the Order of Malta, by the Abbé Vertot, our readers may possibly be pleased with a relation of it, as it occurred under the grand master Helion of Villeneuve, about the year 1342.

On this island, according to the record of all the authors of that time, was a crocodile of an enormous size: this amphibious animal kept its abode, in a hollow ground, at the top of the mountain St. Ettienne, two miles distant from the town; from whence it made its appearance, from time to time. Sheep, cows, and even shepherds, were suddenly missed, and became the prey of this monster. Several knights went forth to destroy it, but none returned; but at the commencement of the fourteenth century fire-arms were not invented, and the skin of this animal, being covered with scales, was impregnable to arrows, and javelins. He fought to advantage, and was conqueror in every combat. This urged the grand master to forbid any further attempts of the knights to destroy it, on pain of expulsion from the order.

One only broke through this strict injunction. Dieu-don de Gozon, with a heroism peculiar to the times, determined once more to make the attempt; notwithstanding the ill-fate of his brethren, and the command of the grand master to the contrary; chusing rather to lose his life in the conflict, than suffer such a dangerous animal to exist.

Animated by the true spirit of chivalry, Gozon meditated on means to carry his design into execution; and retired, for that purpose, to Castle Gozon, in Languedoc. Having observed that the crocodile had no scales upon its belly, he regulated his measures accordingly.

He ordered a figure of this beast to be made, in wood, which he carried in his mind, and had it painted of the natural colour. This done, he taught two dogs, at his call, to attack it about the belly; whilst he stood by on horseback, covered with a coat of mail, and struck him often with his lance.

After having practised them in this, for some months, and taught his dogs perfectly, Gozon returned to Rhodes. Immediately on his arrival, without discovering his intent, he sent his arms, un-noticed, to a church, on the mountain of St. Ettienne, and followed there himself, attended by two servants, whom
GOZON KILLING the CROCODILE.

he brought with him from France. Having offered up his prayers to God, in the church, he put on his armour, mounted his horse, and ordered his two servants to return to France, in case he should perish in the combat, and acquaint his countrymen with the disaster; but, in case he should fortunately wound the monster, or kill him, to come up to him with all expedition. He then rode down the mountain, accompanied by his dogs, and approached the crocodile's abode, with manly courage. The monster appeared, and ran at the knight, with open mouth, and eyes flaming with rage and fire. Gozon attempted to pierce it with his lance, but without effect; its scales were impenetrable. He was on the point of giving him a second thrust; but his horse took fright, at the noise, and stench, of an animal he had never seen before. It darted on one side, he fell off, and would have caused the death of his master, had be not, with wonderful coolness, drawn his sword; and, assisted by his two dogs, attacked the crocodile again. The thrusts of his sword were as fruitless as those of his lance. The monster threw him down with the stroke of his tail; and the knight would inevitably have perished, had not his dogs seized the crocodile, by the belly, and severely wounded it.

This gave the knight time to rise again, and to run his sword, to the haft, into the belly of the animal, at a place where it was not covered with scales. The blood ran rapidly from the wound, and the monster fell, mortally wounded, on its back; and this threw the knight on the ground again. He would now have been pressed to death, by the weight of the crocodile, had his two servants not hastened up, and drawn him from under it. He was in a fit, and they thought him dead; but, having taken the helmet from his head, he opened his eyes; and the first agreeable object, that struck him, was the death of the enemy. The honour of having overcome a monster, that had been the death of several of his brethren, gave fresh motion to his blood, and fresh elasticity to his nerves.

The news of this victory; and the death of the crocodile, had scarce reached the town, when multitudes came forth to the field of battle; and the knights of Malta conducted their brother, in triumph, to the palace of the grand master. But how great was Gozon's astonishment, when he saw the grand master approach him with anger. Had you forgot my order, said Villeneuve, with the tone of a regent? Can you hope to escape with impunity, in having offended against my commands? Gozon was instantly carried to prison, without being suffered to say a word in his defence; nor could all that the knights, in general, say, soften Villeneuve's resentment. The grand master called a council of war; and represented to them, that it was absolutely necessary to punish his disobedience; which was far more injurious to the order, than many such monsters. Like Manlius, the Roman, he insisted upon it that the conqueror should be punished for this victory.

The unfortunate Gozon was consequently adjudged to have forfeited the robe of the order; a punishment more severe to him than death itself. But the grand master, after having satisfied the law, so arranged matters, that he was requested to grant a favour, which he himself would have begged, had he not been grand master. At the request of the knights, he restored the robe to the chevalier, and loaded him with favours; and the head of the monster was fixed up, at one of the town-gates, as a monument of victory. Thevenot says, in his travels, which he published in 1637, either that he saw it, or a picture of it. According to this author, the jaw split to the ears, his teeth and eyes were of an uncommon size, the nostrils round, and the colour grey.

We have given this account as we find it in Vertot, leaving it to the judgment of our readers to decide on its probability. So much we find in cotemporary writers, from inscriptions, and other tokens of the same period, that chevalier Gozon had killed a great formidable animal, and had acquired great honour among the people of Rhodes in so doing; who considered him as their deliverer. This may easily be credited.

The grand master gave him, soon after, several lucrative places, to indemnify him; and, finding that Gozon had as much prudence as valour, appointed him his lieutenant; convinced that a man, who had so nobly ventured his life for the good of his countrymen; would defend them, in war, against any enterpize of an enemy, with equal, if not still greater, courage.

Of this renowned man we will give another anecdote, still more characteristic. The grand master, Villeneuve, died in 1346. Many aspired to this important office. The elder knights, though resting in peace, after the actions of their younger days, wished for a grand master of a peaceful disposition. The younger ones were of a contrary turn; they coveted a keen and fiery chief, who would lead them to war; and give them an opportunity of acquiring glory and riches. Gozon was one of the competitors; and, on entering the council, or conclave, he said, "On my admission here, I took a solemn oath to give my suffrage to the worthiest knight; and propose, to this exalted post, the man, who, in my opinion, has most the good of the order at heart. Having considered seriously on the state of Christendom; having taken into consideration the continual war we have to carry on against the Infidels; in a word, having impartially considered that firmness of character, which a grand master ought to be possessed of, in order to support the laws with respect, to counteract every disorder in the state, and shew an intrepidity in the most dangerous situations; I having weighed all this in my mind, I declare it to be my opinion, that no one can fill this post better than—myself." Gozon then enlarged, in a very eloquent speech, on his own merits and virtues. The combat with the monster was not forgotten, but he particularly brought to mind his conduct, whilst he was lieutenant to the grand master. "You already know," continued he, "my manner of governing;—you know what you have to expect from me;—and you know also that you cannot, without injustice, deny me your votes." The surprized assembly acknowledged his merits, and chose him grand master, unanimously.

Since this time it has been the custom to ask for the grand mastership of Malta, without having killed a monster.

The grand master of Malta is called Serene Highness, and Eminence. He has the disposal of all lucrative places, makes whom he pleases of his council; and in all the councils, that compose the jurisdiction of this little nation, he presides himself, and has two votes. He has the disposal of twenty-one commendaries, worth upwards of £. 2000 a year, and one priory every five years; and, as there are always a number of competitors, and expectants, he is very much crushed. He is always a priest; and esteems his situation the most eminent a private individual can obtain, except the Papacy. In short, says Brydone, he is more absolute, and possesses more power, than most sovereign princes. His houshold attendance, and court, are all very princely; and yet, says De Non, he is only what a consul was at Rome, an archon at Athens; and what a landman now is in Switzerland. But he has a privy council; where every matter, to be discussed, must be proposed by the grand master; so that, unless he sees he can carry his point, he is silent; and, of course, absolute. Notwithstanding this, he may not be so happy. Surrounded by ambitious pretenders, his court is a prey to intrigue; and his territory is so limited, that he can never remove far from his tomb, towards which he will hasten, though a thousand of his brotherhood regret that his approaches are so slow. Nay, when within his palace, under ties to all the sovereigns of Europe, who grant unmeaning honours to his flag; and without a force sufficient to act the part of a neutral power, he is continually reduced to the necessity of making apologies; and to atone, for every seeming offence, to those princes who demand it; and, in his own country, surrounded with fortifications, with mortars, and with cannon, this unfortunate sovereign is perpetually, on the defence, against intestine cabals, conspiracies, and revolts; and cannot have a moment's ease.

The land-force of Malta is equal to the number of men in the island, fit to bear arms. They have about five hundred regulars, belonging to the ships of war; and one hundred and fifty compose the guard of the prince. The two islands, of Malta and Gozzo, contain about one hundred and fifty thousand inhabitants. The men are exceedingly robust and hardy; and will row standing, shoving the handle of the oars from them, for ten or twelve hours, without intermission.

Their navy consists of four gallies, three galliots, four ships, of sixty guns, and a frigate of thirty-six; besides a number of quick sailing little vessels, called Scampaira's, or run-aways. Their ships, gallies, and fortifications, are not only well supplied with excellent artillery, but they have invented an ordnance of their own, unknown to all the world besides; their very rocks are cut into artillery, being hollowed out, in many places, in the form of vast mortars; the charge of which is said to be a barrel of gunpowder; on which they place a lage piece of wood, made exactly to fit the mouth of the chamber. On this they heap a great quantity of cannon balls, shells, or other deadly materials; and, when an enemy's ship approaches the harbour, they fire the whole into the air; making a shower, for two or three hundred yards round, that would sink any vessel.

Brydone has just seen the naval force of Malta, in its greatest gala. It was the departure of a Maltese squadron, to assist the French against the Bey of Tunis; who had offended the French King, by refusing to deliver up, without ransom, the Corsican slaves, that were taken, before the French were in possession of that island. The squadron consisted of three gallies, the largest with nine hundred men; each of the others with seven hundred; three galliots, and several scampaira's. These immense bodies were all worked by oars, and moved with great regularity. The admiral went first, and the rest in order, according to their dignity. The sea was crouded with boats, it was a fine evening, and the ramparts, and fortifications, were filled with company. The port resounded, on all sides, with the discharge of heavy artillery, announced by the gallies, and galliots, as they left the harbour; and, as the echo here is uncommonly great, it had a very noble effect. There were about thirty knights in each galley, making signals, all the way, to their mistresses, who were weeping for their departure upon the bastions.

Notwithstanding the supposed bigotry of the Maltese, the spirit of toleration is so strong, that they have suffered the Turks, their sworn enemies, to erect a mosque, and punish any who disturb them.

Perhaps Malta is the only country where duelling is permitted by law; for, as their establishment originated in chivalry, they appear, in some points, to keep it up; though they so restrict this toleration, as greatly to lessen its danger. The duelists are obliged to fight in one particular street of the city; and are obliged, under severe censure, to put up their swords, when ordered so to do by a woman, a priest, or a knight. But even this does not prevent bloodshed. A cross is always painted on the wall, opposite to the spot where a knight has been killed in a duel; and this is in commemoration of his fall. Brydone says he counted about twenty of such crosses.

Brydone says, about three months before he was there, two knights had a dispute at a billiard table. One of them, after a great deal of abusive language, gave the other a blow; and, to the astonishment of all Malta, after so great an affront, absolutely refused to fight his antagonist.—The challenge was repeated; he had time to reflect on the consequences, and still refused. For this he was condemned to make the amende honorable, in the great church, for forty-five days, successively; then to be confined to a dark dungeon, for five years; and, after this, to remain a prisoner for life. The unfortunate young man, who received the blow, was also in disgrace, not having had an opportunity of wiping it out, in the blood of his adversary.

CHAP. II. Of the Island, its Productions, People, &c.

MR. Brydone, and his company, approached Malta by sea; having passed from Sicily in a six-oared shallow boat, scarce able to hold six persons, besides the rowers; but the sea, in the channel between the two islands, being pretty calm, at certain seasons, it is the only vessel that passes it.

The aspect of the country, says he, is far from pleasing; the whole being, as I observed, on a rock of free-stone, thinly covered with earth; yet their crops, in general, were abundant, owing to the dews that fall, during the spring and summer months, and their corn and cotton looked well; it was then in the beginning of the month of June. Their barley harvest was then over, and they were just finishing that of wheat. All the corn, grown in the island, will support the people but five months; the crop they must depend on is the cotton. They begin sowing in the middle of May, finish in the middle of June, and reap in October, and beginning of November.

The cotton-plant rises to the height of eighteen inches, and is covered with a number of nuts, or pods, full of cotton. These, when ripe, they cut off every morning, before the sun rises; as the sun's heat turns it yellow. They manufacture this into a variety of stuffs, and very fine stockings; some have been sold for ten sequins a pair, near seven pounds ten shillings English. Their worsteds and blankets are esteemed all over Europe. The chief manufactures are at Gozzo. Small quantities of the sugar-cane are here cultivated. The Maltese oranges are reckoned the finest in the world. The trees are covered with fruit, from November till the middle of June. They are red oranges; the juice is red as blood; being the common orange-bud, grafted on the pomegranate stock. The greatest part of this crop is sent, as presents, to crowned-heads, and to the relations of the knights.

The industry of the Maltese, in cultivating their little island, is inconceivable. There is not an inch of ground lost in any part of it; and, where the soil failed, they have covered the stone with earth, brought from Sicily, in ships and boats. The whole island is full of enclosures of free-stone; which, in summer, reflects so much light, and heat, as to be very troublesome to the eyes.

The island is covered with country-houses, and villages, besides the towns which they call cities; though there are only two, the Valetta, and the Citta Vecchia, that deserve that name. Every little village has a noble church, elegantly finished, and adorned with marble statues, rich tapestry, and a profusion of silver plate. They are, says Brydone, by much the handsomest churches I ever saw.

The city of Valetta stands upon a peninsula, between two of the finest ports in the world; which are defended, by almost impregnable fortifications. That on the south-west side of the city is the largest, is scarce a quarter of a mile broad, at the mouth, commanded, on each side, by batteries that would tear the strongest ship to pieces, before she could enter. Besides
A PLAN of the CITY of MALTA. References.

- 1 〈◊〉 o• St. 〈◊〉

- 2 Women's Hospital

- 3 Magis•••• Palace

- 4 St. Mary Magdalen

- 5 The 〈◊〉

- 6 〈◊〉 Prison

- 7 St. 〈…〉 Chapel

- 8 〈◊〉 Church & College

- 9 Our Lady Chapel

- 10 Dominician Church

- 11 St. 〈◊〉 Church

- 12 St. 〈◊〉

- 13 St. John Bap•. Church

- 14 The Market Place

- 15 Monast•ry of St. U•••••

- 16 〈…〉

- 17 French Chapel

- 18 〈◊◊〉 of Portugal

- 19 St. 〈◊〉 of holy Ch•.

- 20 St. James 〈◊〉

- 21 〈◊〉 Church

- 22 Conservatory Palace

- 23 St. L•••ie

- 24 Treasury Palace

- 25 ••a•cery Palace

- 26 German Hotel

- 27 Arr•gon Hotel

- 28 The Barrack

- 29 Augustin's 〈◊〉

- 30 The Mill & Oven

- 31 〈◊◊〉

- 32 Place of 〈◊〉

- 33 〈◊〉 Hotel

- 34 St. John C•••liers

- 35 St. James C••••iers

- 36 Wood 〈◊〉

- 37 Wind Mill

- 38 〈◊〉 Church

- 39 〈◊◊◊〉

- 40 〈◊〉 St. Church

- 41 Hospital for Men

- 42 Do.... for Women

- 43 〈◊◊〉

- 44 Riccaroli Port

- 45 Salvador Cattle

- 46 St. Agne Cattle

- 47 Butcher Row

- 48 Galley Hotel for Generals

- 49 Galley Hotel for Captaine

- 50 Wood Magazine

- 51 St. Margaret's Monestry

- 52 St. Lawrence Church

- 53 Dominican Church

- 54 Inguisition Palace

- 55 Corps Barrack

- 56 Cormes Barefooted

- 57 St. Crucifix Church

- 58 St. Paul's Chapel

- 59 Market Pl!

- 60 St. John's Chu!

- 61 Magazine for the Mature

- 62 Ship's Magazine

- 63 St. Cross Church

- 64 Manoel Carden

- 65 Mature Magazine

- 66 St. Philip Church

- 67 The Syren Carden

- A City Valette

- B Lower Town

- C Lasencle Town

- D The Bormola

- E Victorause City

it is fronted by a quadruple battery, one above another; the largest of which is on a level with the water. Within the mouth, the harbour widens into a beautiful bason; running up two miles into the heart of the island; divided into five distinct harbours, all equally safe; each capable of containing an immense number of shipping. The soundings are here so very deep, and surrounded by such high grounds, and fortifications, that the largest ships of war may ride here, almost without a cable, in the roughest weather. These batteries are mounted with about eighty of their heaviest artillery; and the harbour, of course, may be considered as impregnable. The Turks have ever found it so.

The harbour, on the north side of the city, although only used for fishing, and as a place of quarantine, would, in any other part of the world, be considered as inestimable. It is ably defended by very strong works; and in the centre of the bason is an island, on which is built a castle and a lazaretto.

The fortifications of Malta are indeed a most stupenduous work. All the boasted catacombs of Rome, and Naples, are a trifle to the immense excavations that have been made in this little island. The ditches, of a vast size, are all cut out of a solid rock. These extend for many miles, and raise our astonishment to think that so small a state has been ever able to make them.

One side of the island is so completely fortified by nature, that there was nothing left for art. The rock is of a great height, and absolutely perpendicular, from the sea, for several miles. Yet, even on this side, there are still the vestiges of several ancient roads, with the tracks of carriages worn deep in the rocks. These roads are now terminated by the precipices with the sea beneath; and clearly shew that, in former ages, this island has been much larger than it is. Indeed it has often been observed to have been affected by the irruption of mount Aetna; which may be clearly seen from this. They reckon the distance near two hundred Italian miles; and the people declare that, during the irruption, the whole island is illuminated; and, from the reflection in the water, there appears a great track of fire in the sea, all the way from Malta to Sicily. The thundering of the mountain is also distinctly heard.

The city of Valetta is built upon a hill. None of the streets, except the key, are level. They are all paved with white free-stone, which creates a great dust; and, by its glare, burts the eyes of the people. There are two good inns in the town. Beautiful and spacious flights of stone steps conduct to large streets, perfectly strait, and well paved. The houses are built of free stone, and continue so beautifully white, as to look like new. In short, on approaching the harbour, the superb prospect, within its innumerable forts, and its two towns, the old and the new, built in an amphitheatre, gives it an appearance, and renders it more magnificent, than any other city in the world. Every edifice, public and private, is remarkably well-built; and the whole seems founded on vast, and noble bastions.

The principal public buildings are, the palace, the infirmary, the arsenal, the hotels of the seven tongues of the great church of St John.—The palace is a noble, though plain, structure; and the grand master is more comfortably lodged than any prince in Europe, except the King of Sardinia. St. John's is a magnificent church; the pavement is reckoned the richest in the world. It is entirely composed of sepulchral monuments, of the finest marbles, porphyry, lapis lazuli, and a variety of other valuable stones, admirably joined together, at an incredible expence; representing, in a kind of Mosaic, the arms, insignia, &c. of the persons they commemorate. There are but two inns, as I have observed, in this city, the Falcon and the Three Kings; the accommodations are good, the treatment civil, and the entertainment of the best, for half-a-crown a day, each.

No spot on earth can be more fortunate, and more fertile, than Sicily; none can be more unfruitful, more barren, or more wretchedly situated, says De Non, than Malta. In Sicily crops of every kind are produced; and though they rapidly succeed, and press upon each other, the peasant, there, is poor, languid, and disgustingly dirty. At Malta, the farmer can force from the soil a little corn, and cotton; yet poverty there is so active, so industrious, and so neat, that it has the air only of abstinence. Large breeches and a shirt of blue linen, a broad sash, and the arms and feet left naked, form the whole description of the light dress and ornaments of the Maltese. Their features and complexion are as Arabian as their language. Interesting and artful in all their bargains, they are scupulously faithful, in fulfilling every contract, which renders all commercial intercourse with them safe, and easy. The women are exempted from every kind of labour, which is entirely performed by the men, even to the most trivial houshold-work. In imitation of the Levantine and Eastern customs, it seems as if they limited the use of the sex, to the sole department of pleasure. Though under a burning sky, they possess the fair skin of the inhabitants of the North, with the impassioned expression of the Orientals; their beauty is neither Grecian, nor majestic. but is not, on that account, the less seducing. With fine complexions, which they carefully preserve, they have almost all of them large eyes; in which love seems to lie in ambush, beneath their long eyelids, that gives them a pleasing air of languor, not a little resembling modesty. Those of the country are said to be faithful to their husbands; but the women of the city know no more how to resist the gold of Baillis, than the amorous sighs of the youthful knights; and we accordingly find, at Malta, the utmost licentiousness of celibacy. Their cresses display more of coquetry than magnificence. Elegance and neatness constitute their luxury. They have a custom of shaving themselves, like the men; but then it is with so much art, that you must come very close to them, to discover the voluptuous effect of this practise. This operation they perform, very dextrously, with broken glass.

The 6th of June is held as a thanksgiving for their deliverance from a terrible conspiracy, that was formed, between thirty and forty years ago, by the Turkish slaves; at one stroke to put an end to the whole order of Malta. All the fountains of the palace were to be poisoned; and every slave had taken a solemn oath to put his master to death.

It was discovered by a Jew, who kept a coffee-house. He understood the Turkish language; and, over-hearing some discourse he thought suspicious, went and informed the grand master. The suspected persons were instantly seized, and put to the torture, and soon confessed the whole. The executions were shocking. One hundred and twenty-five were put to death, by various torments; some were burned alive, some were broken on the wheel, and some torn to pieces by four gallies, rowing different ways, and each bringing off its limb. Since that time the slaves have been more narrowly watched, and have less liberty, than formerly.

The horse-races of Malta are of a very uncommon kind; performed without either saddle, bridle, whip, or spur; and yet the horses run full speed, and afford much diversion. They are accustomed to the ground for some weeks before; and, though it is entirely over rock and pavement, there are seldom any accidents. They have races of asses and mules, performed in the same manner, four times a year. The rider is only furnished with a weapon like a shoemaker's awl, to push on his courser, if he is lazy.

The ancient city of Melita stands, nearly, in the centre of the island; and, from its high situation, commands a view of the whole; and, in clear weather, they say, of part of Barbary and Sicily. It is strongly fortified, and governed by an officer, called the Hahem. The cathedral is a fine church, exceedingly large; and was hung, when Brydone was there, with crimson damask, richly laced with gold.

Not far from the old city is a small church, dedicated to St. Paul; and just by the church, a miraculous statue of the Saint, with a viper in his hand; supposed to be placed on the very spot on which the house stood, where he was received after his shipwreck on this island; and where he shook the viper off his hand, into the fire, without being hurt by it; at which time, the Maltese say, the Saint cursed all the venomous animals of the island, and banished them for ever; as St Peter healed those of his favourite isle. Whether this be the cause or not, there are no venomous animals in Malta; and the people say, that vipers have been brought from Sicily, and died, almost, immediately on their arrival.

Adjoining the church there is the celebrated grotto, in which St. Paul was imprisoned. It is very damp, and produces a whitish kind of stone; which, they aver, when reduced to powder, is a sovereign remedy in many diseases. Boxes of it are sent, annually, to Sicily, Italy, the Levant, and the East Indies; and what is considered as a standing miracle, notwithstanding this consumption, it has never been exhausted, nor ever sensibly diminished; the Saint always taking care to supply them, with a fresh quantity, the day following. It is something like magnesia, in look and taste. They give a tea-spoonful to children in fevers, and the small-pox; which produces a copious sweat, about an hour after, and never fails, they say, to be of service. It is esteemed a certain remedy against the bite of all venomous animals. There is a very fine statue of St. Paul, in the middle of this grotto, to which is ascribed great power. St. Paul, after his shipwreck, continued in this island three months, and preached the gospel.

The catacombs, not far from this city, are a great work. They are said to extend fifteen miles under ground. Many people, they say, have been lost in tracing them; for, branching out into so many parts, they could not find their way back. The passages, or galleries, are so very narrow, that only one person can pass at a time; but they are well finished, and well preserved.

The grand master's country palace is represented as an extensive place, with fine hunting in the woods; but, in fact, it only contains a few scattered trees, and about half-a-dozen deers; yet, this being the only thing like a wood in the island, it is esteemed a great curiosity. The palace is as poor a thing; and the furniture three or four hundred years old, in the most Gothic taste; but the grand master never resides here.

Great source of water, that supplies the city of Valetta, takes its rise near this place; and is conveyed by an aqueduct of some thousand arches. The carriages, to pass from one part of the island to another, are coaches drawn by one mule; the only kind of vehicle they have.

Indeed you here go out of town, without finding the country; for what is so called, is as much covered with buildings, as the city, and seems as strongly fortified, by large continued walls, which hold up or incase the little earth there is naturally in the island, or what is brought, or fabricated there; for, by breaking the soft soil, and mixing it with earth and rolling it, the indefatigable Maltese compose a soil fit for cotton, and they abandon, almost, every other species of culture for this; which, by its sale, supplies the want of every other production.

The grand master has lately laid the foundation of a museum, to be the property of the order, as is the library, which is considerable. They have found some marble bas-reliefs here, Roman works, which appear, says De Non, to be portraits; among these is a head of Cicero's daughter.

The isle of Gozzo has been imagined, by many of our modern antiquaries, to have been the island of Calypso; but this opinion has been some years out of fashion; and though there is nothing at Malta, which in the least resembles the description of that island, by Homer and Fenelon, they have now transferred the residence of that amorous nymph there; and placed her palace at the bottom of the harbour of la Melleha. Here are a number of romantic characters, cut out of the rock, more like hermit's cells than any other thing; and yet they call one of these Calypso's dressing room. It is possible for imagination to destroy all that now exists, and suppose things to exist, which never could exist; yet still it is imagination, after all, and nothing else.

The Greeks, undoubtedly, had settlements at Gozzo; for some coins, of Gozzo itself, are found, representing a head of Diana, with a crescent over it; and, on the other side, a soldier armed with a sword and buckler, in the action of attack.

A. Map of the POPES TERRITORIES from MONSR. DANVILLE.

A DESCRIPTION OF THE POPE'S TERRITORIES. FROM BUSCHING, KEYSLER, MOORE, MARTYN, GROSLEY, SHERLOCK, SHARP, MILLAR, PIOZZI, BARRETTI, AND OTHERS.

CHAP I. Situation, Extent, and general View.

THE dominions of the Holy See compose what the Italians call stato della chiesa; and are bounded, on the North, by the territories of the states of Venice; by the Adriatic Sea, on the North-East; by Naples, on the South-East; by the Tuscan Sea, on the South-West; by Tuscany, on the North-West; and by the duchies of Modena and Mantua, on the West; which it encompasses on three sides.

These dominions consist of the compagna of Rome; St. Peter's patrimony; the duchies of Castro, Spoletto and Urbino; the marquisate of Ancona; the Sabinese, the Romagna; which comprehends the Bolognese and duchy of Ferrara; the Perrugin; and the territory of Orvieto. Besides these provinces, the duchy of Benevento, in the kingdom of Naples, and the county of Avignon, in the South of France, belong to the Pope.

The greatest length of this country may be about two hundred and forty Italian miles; as to the breadth, from Civita Vecchia to Ancona, is about one hundred and thirty miles; but, in many other places, it is not near so broad; and, in some parts, is scarce twenty miles.

On considering that the Pope's dominions generally consist of a very fertile, and excellent soil; that his harbours, both on the Adriatic and Mediterranean seas, are very advantageously situated for trade; that he receives considerable sums from other parts; that his country is visited by numbers of foreigners, who spend a great deal of money in it; and that, on account of the supposed sanctity of his person and character, his government should seem best calculated for the welfare of his subjects: one would be apt to imagine that, of all states, this ought to be the most flourishing, were not the reverse manifest.

The country is but ill cultivated, and very poor, and thin of inhabitants; the city of Bologna, alone, excepted. Trade and manufactures are totally stagnant; and did not the bounty of Providence furnish the inhabitants with dates, almonds, figs, olives, fruits, and such like products of the earth, growing spontaneously, and without any culture; and deal out to them bread and wine, at the expence of very little labour, their sloth would absolutely starve them.

Their little inclination, and spirit for work, is not to be wondered at; because they are conscious, that if they have much, much will be taken from them; and, in the end, nothing will be left them. The many holidays, which are such an impediment to trade and business; the great number of young sturdy beggars, strolling about, and burthening the inhabitants, under the appearance of pilgrims; the many hospitals, which confirm the people in idleness; the multitude of convents, that hinder the increase of inhabitants; the inconceivable wealth of churches and convents, which lie dormant, without the least advantage to the public; the inquisition, which will not permit the want of the inhabitants to be supplied, by those of another religion; are some great causes of the wretched condition of the papal dominions; though there are others attended with still worse consequences.

No government equals the papal in rigour; the temporal sword being not the only one used; but also, on several occasions, the spiritual, or inquisition. Besides, nothing is so monstrous as the passion by which popes, cardinals, and other great prelates have been carried away, for enriching and promoting their nephews and relations; and nothing is so vain as the ambition of gaining for themselves a great name, by founding convents and churches. The regulars vie with each other in the number, splendor, and riches of their churches and chapels; but it is from the sweat of the poor inhabitants that the money is generally extracted for the support of this frivolous rivalship. The legates, governors, and other inferior officers in the provinces, knowing that the time of holding their charge is short and uncertain, scruple no kind of rapaciousness. By collating these causes it will no longer be a subject of surprize, if, in all parts of Europe, there is not a more wretched people than the Pope's temporal subjects.

The campagna of Rome, in which is situated the capital, is the most depopulated, and unhealthy, of all the ecclesiastical territories. This
PLAN of the CITY OF ROME. References.

- 1 St. Peter

- 2 St. Peter Place

- 3 Castle of St. Angelo

- 4 Palace of the Vatican

- 5 St. Lawrence

- 6 St. Spirit•

- 7 〈◊〉 Palace

- 8 St. 〈◊〉

- 9 St. M. Queen of Heaven

- 10 St. Peter in 〈◊〉

- 11 〈◊〉 & D••••i••

- 12 〈◊〉 Aplico of St. Michael

- 13 St. 〈◊〉 in Tr••••erere

- 14 〈◊〉 of the most Holy Conception

- 15 St. M. of the Angels

- 16 Barbe•i•i Palace

- 17 St. Anthony Abbey

- 18 St. Nicholas

- 19 Mig〈7 letters〉i Palace

- 20 St. Lawrence in Pain and Pe•••a

- 21 St. John in L•••r

- 22 St. Mary of the Holy Mount

- 23 St. Sil••••ro in Capet

- 24 〈…〉 Palace

- 25 〈◊〉 Palace

- 26 St. Dominick & Si•••a

- 27 St. Co••o &c D••••i•••

- 28 Titus Arch

- 29 Clementino College

- 30 〈◊〉 Palace

- 31 St. Lawrence in Lucia

- 32 〈◊〉 Palace

- 33 〈◊〉 Palace

- 34 St. M. •pper the 〈◊〉

- 35 J••••

- 36 St. Mary of the Consolation

- 37 St. A•o••ino

- 38 〈◊〉 Palace

- 39 St. L••••••io

- 40 Mattei Palace

- 41 St. M. in Vallicella

- 42 Sforza Cezarina Palace

- 43 St. Mary al Monserrato

- 44 St. Thomas English College

- 45 Farnese Palace

- 46 Spada Palace

- 47 Pellegrin St. Trinity

- 48 St. Francis Pomaria

- 49 Giano Arch

- 50 St. M. Co••••din

- 51 St. M. Egeziaco

- 52 St. Lawrence in Miranda

- 54 St. Adrian

- 55 Gallieno Arch

- 56 Coloseo

- 57 Mount Tertaccio

- 58 St. M. d'Ara Ceti

- 59 St. Galla

- 60 St. John Calibita

- 61 St. Bartholomew

- 62 St. Offlrio Palace

- 63 St. Peters Seminary

- 64 People Gate

- 65 Pinciana Gate

- 66 St. Lawrence Gate

- 67 the Great Gate

- 68 Castrense Amphith!

- 69 St. Johns Gate

- 70 Latina Gate

- 71 Sebastian Gate

- 72 St. Pauls Gate

- 73 Portesse Gate

- 74 St. Pacrazio Gate

- 75 Cavalliggaria Gate

- 76 Angelica Gate

- 77 Castle Gate

- 78 Pia Gate

province is under the immediate jurisdiction of the Pope; the others are governed by legates and vicegerents. This territory, anciently called Latium, is blessed with a very fruitful soil; but, for want of cultivation, the inhabitants are wretchedly poor. Delicious plains are seen in it, with scarce so much as a village; so that the few inhabitants it contains, in order to get in their harvest, are under the necessity of employing the peasants of the adjoining districts. It is said, on a very moderate computation, that there were more inhabitants in the campagna of old Rome, than are, at present, in all Italy; yet this spot is now accounted so unwholesome, and so pestilential, that no no traveller, not even an Italian, will sleep there, if he can avoid it.

CHAP. II. Of the City of Rome.

ROME, the metropolis of the dominions of the Pope, and anciently the whole Roman empire, derives its name, according to some ancient writers, from Roma, a Trojan lady; but according to others, from Romulus, the founder. There are some who affirm it was called Roma, before the days of Romulus; and that he only enlarged the city, and it was called after his name; as princes and great men are, to this day, named from the places of their residence. Others reject the story of Romulus and Remus, as fabulous; and indeed nothing satisfactory is to be met with on this subject, any more than as to the aera of its foundation; some writers affirming it was founded in the year of the world 3301, or, 753 years before Christ; and others in the year 3198.

This city is situated on the river Tyber, about sixteen miles North-East of the Tuscan Sea; in 41 degrees and 45 minutes of North latitude; and thirty-two degrees odd minutes, to the eastward of London.

The city of Rome has suffered so much from the ancient Gauls, Vandals, Heruli, Ostro and Visi-Goths, and lastly from the German troops, especially in the year 1527, under Charles of Bourbon, that, besides smaller damages, it is computed to have been pillaged seven times. Others affirm that Rome was plundered twelve times; this, however, is certain, that the surface of the ground the city stands upon must have been altered, by such frequent ravages. At present it is difficult to distinguish the seven hills, on which Rome was anciently built; the low grounds having been filled up by the ruins of whole streets; so that, sometimes, it is scarce observable that we are ascending an eminence, celebrated by the ancients. Antiquity informs us that the ascent, from the street into the pantheon, or rotunda, consisted of thirteen steps; whereas now the whole area about it is on a level with the pavement of that temple. It is very common, by digging deep for the foundation of houses, &c. to find pillars, statues, and the fragments of ancient buildings; and, in some places, parts of the pavement of the old city have been found to be twenty, or thirty, feet below the present surface of the ground. It is probable, that this must also have occasioned great alteration, with regard to the salubrity of the air.

The stupendous Cloacoe, or common shores and aqueducts, by which the filth and dirt of the ancient city were conveyed into the Cloaca maxima, have, indeed, many openings remaining for the passage of the soil and water; but most of the outlets are stopped, and the Cloaca maxima itself is in very bad order. This must necessarily cause a putrefaction in the air, which is sensibly perceived by those who dig deep into the earth, and happen to light on the aperture of such obstructed sink, or shore; there being many instances of workmen losing their lives by those putrid effluviae. The same alterations are likewise manifest in the country. Anciently several parts of Italy, near the sea, were not only full of fine towns, villas and palaces, but resorted to, as the most healthy places, in time of pestilence; but now it is quite the reverse: for the greatest part of the sea-coast is moist and marshy; and the air so bad, that, during the summer-heats, many convents are uninhabited; and the monks remove, for some months, to a healthier climate. Even in the neighbourhood of Rome the soil is but badly cultivated; and, in the night-time, covered with fogs, and igneous vapours. These must have been very uncommon in the time of the ancient Romans; for Livy frequently mentions such phoenomena as prodigies, and omens, which occasioned propitiatory sacrifice and offerings. Sulphur is usually dug up, like white earth, at Rome, and afterwards purified by sublimation. Great quantities of vitriol are also made here; and the green, found in the copper mines, is particularly called Roman vitriol. Roch allum is also prepared within a small distance of Rome; and, in some places, arsenic is made. These are works which necessarily produce very noxious effluvia, from which ancient Rome was free; for these minerals were then either unknown, or, at least, not dug up.

It is probable a concurrence of all these causes may have occasioned that alteration of weather, which has been observed, with regard to the mildness of the winters, in this climate. Some passages in Homer shew, that, in his time, the snow often lay very deep in the streets of Rome; and it is plain, from the sixth satyre of Juvenal, that it was far from being unusual to see the Tyber frozen in winter; but, in the present age, it must be a very sharp winter, if the snow lays in Rome but a day or two; as for the Tyber, it has not been frozen in the memory of any man living.

The river also has suffered by the alteration of the countries, through which it takes its course; its mouth, where it disembogues itself into the sea, is become very narrow, and choaked with sand-banks; and its bed, by the rubbish of houses on its banks, very much contracted; which, in a strong south wind, causes inundations, that do great damage, both in the city, and the neighbouring country,

In regard to its present extent, and number of inhabitants, several cities may be found, both in Europe and other parts of the world, superior to modern Rome; but if we consider its ancient power, and its sovereignty over so many powerful nations, for such a series of years, the whole world never produced its equal. The remains of the ancient walls and buildings of the city demonstrate, that, for its vast circumference, it might justly be classed among the principal cities in the world. According to Pliny the city walls, in Vespasian's time, were thirteen thousand paces, in circumference; and Vossius, who wrote in Aurelius's time, magnifies them to fifty thousand. This must either be a notorious error in the transcriber, or such a circuit must have included the seats, and gardens, in the neigbourhood of Rome. What Vossius, in his Varioe Observationes, endeavours to prove, is very weak and absurd; for he fain would persuade his readers, that Rome was twenty times as large as Paris and London, put together; that Nero's palace, alone, occupied more ground, than the greatest of our modern European cities; that the number of slaves, in Rome, amounted to eight millions; and the inhabitants, in general, to fourteen millions. Whoever gives credit to these bare assertions, should not dispute with him, when he affirms, the inhabitants of Nanquin, a single city in China, to be above twenty millions. These exaggerations are still far short of Rolefincks, who computes the inhabitants of Rome, in her highest prosperity, at twenty-seven millions.

Nay, such is the infatuation of Lipsius, to magnifying the extent of Rome, and the number of its inhabitants, says Keysler, that he does not scruple to alter, and falsify, such passages, in ancient writers, as make against his chimeras; and blindly follows the most absurd, and extravagant assertions of the Greeks, who were remarkable for their flattery to the Romans. Was ever any thing more ridiculous than what the orator, Aristides, says of Rome, in Adrian's time? "It is so large, says this writer, that, in any part of it, a person may always, with some reason, think himself in the centre of it; so that a whole year is not sufficient to enumerate other cities, that are, as it were, included in this celestial city: whole nations, as Capadocians, Scythians, and others, having, in numberless multitudes, at once settled in Rome." This boast, however, can relate only to the few quarters, or wards, where some individuals, of those nations, used chiefly to live. Vespasian's amphitheatre was about one hundred and fifty feet in height; yet Ammianus Marcelinus is pleased to say, that its height is scarce discernable by human eyes.

Authors, says Moore, differ very much in opinion, with respect to the number of inhabitants which Rome contained, at the period when it was most populous. Some accounts make them seven millions, he adds, and others a much greater number. These seem all to be incredible exaggerations. It is not probable that what is properly called the city of Rome, ever extended beyond the wall built by Bellisarius, after he had defeated the Goths. This wall has been frequently repaired since, and is still standing; it is about thirteen or fourteen miles in circuit, which is nearly the size that Rome was of, in the days of Vespasian. Those who assert that the number of inhabitants in ancient Rome, when it was most populous, could not exceed a million, exclusive of slaves, are thought moderate in their calculation; but when we consider that the circumference, of thirteen or fourteen miles, is not equal to that of either Paris or London; that the Campus Martius, which is the best built part of modern Rome, was a field, without a house upon it, anciently; and that the rising ground, where St Peter's church and the vatican stand, was no part of old Rome; it will be difficult to conceive that ever Rome could boast a million of inhabitants. If the wall of Bellisarius be admitted as the boundary of the ancient city, it is not easy to imagine that it could have, at any time, contained above five or six hundred thousand, without supposing the masters of the world to have been the worst lodged people in it.

But if in the computations above-mentioned the suburbs are included; if those who lived without the walls are considered as inhabitants; in that case, there will be room enough for any number, the limits of the suburbs not being ascertained.

The buildings immediately without the walls of Rome, which were connectedly continued so as to merit the name of suburbs, were certainly of vast extent; and, with the inhabitants of the town itself, must have contained a prodigious number of people. By a calculation, made by Mr. Byres, the Circus Maximus was of sufficient size to accommodate three hundred and eighty thousand spectators; and, we are told by the Latin poets, that it was usually full. Now if allowance be made for the superannuated, the sick, and the infirm; also for children, and those employed in their private business, and for slaves who were not permitted to remain in the Circus, during the games; Mr. Byres imagines that such a number could not be supplied by a city and suburbs, the number of whose inhabitants were much under three millions.

Whatever may have been the extent of the suburbs of Rome, it is probable, they were only formed of ordinary houses, and inhabited by people of inferior rank. There are no remains of palaces, or magnificent buildings of any kind, to be now seen near the walls, or, indeed, over the whole Campagna; yet, it it is asserted by some authors, that this wide surface was peopled, at one period, like a continued village; and, we are told of strangers, who, viewing this immense plain covered with houses, imagined they had already entered Rome, when they were thirty miles from the walls of that city.

Though this city is thought now not to contain above one hundred and sixty, or seventy thousand inhabitants; a number greatly inferior to what it contained in the days of its ancient power; yet this number is greater than it has generally been able to boast, since the fall of the empire. There is good authority for believing, that Rome, at particular periods, since that time, some of them not very remote, has been reduced to between thirty and forty thousand inhabitants. The numbers have gradually increased, during the whole of this century. As it was much less expensive to purchase new ground for building upon, than to clear away ruins, which, by time, had acquired the consistence of rock. Great part of the modern city, is built upon what was the ancient Campus Martius.

The river Tyber divides the city, properly so called, from the Transtevere, or quarter, in which is the church of St. Peter, and the palace of the Vatican. This river is about three hundred and fifteen feet wide, at the bridge of St. Angelo, and is navigable for large barges; the water is yellow and turbid.

Many are of opinion, that, by turning this river out of its channel for a time, vast riches and valuable antiquities thrown into it, at different times, when the city has been sacked and pillaged; would be found. The water of this river, says Keysler, is so thick and foul, that it is not fit for horses to drink, till it has stood two or three days for the filth to subside.

There are now three bridges at Rome: that of St. Angelo, anciently Pons Aelius, leading to the castle of St. Angelo, is the principal. All the upper part of it is finished by Bernini, in a good taste; but the statues on it are heavy and disagreeable. Ancient Rome had six bridges. There are some small remains of the Sublician bridge, which was only one, when Horatius Cocles defended it so valiantly. It was then of wood, but afterwards built of stone by Lepidus.

The ruins of the triumphal bridge, near S. Angelo, is an object that cannot but strike a man of letters. This was the bridge, over which every general marched into the city, to whom a triumph was decreed, either for the conquest of a province, or any other signal victory. From the time of Romulus, to that of the emperor Probus, there were about three hundred and twenty of these triumphs There are now only a few remains of the piers. Who can behold this scene, without ruminating on the nature of the human heart, and recollecting to what trials it must have been exposed, in the course of so proud, and so flattering a procession?

A traveller, says Sharp, on his arrival at Rome, is not much animated by its appearance; the narrowness of many of the streets, the thinness of inhabitants, the prodigious quantity of monks and beggars, give but a gloomy aspect to this renowned city. There are no rich tradesmen in it, who, by their acquisitions, either ennoble their sons, or marry their daughters into the houses of princes. All the shops seem empty, and the shopkeepers poor; not one hackney-coach in so large a town; a proof that there is no middle station, between those who always ride, and those who always walk. This is the first impression; but let the eye be turned from that point of view to the magnificence of their churches; to the venerable remains of ancient Rome; to the prodigious collection of pictures, and antique statues; to the very river, and ground itself, formerly the habitation of that people which, from our cradles, we have been taught to admire; and, with a very few grains of enthusiasm, he will be more than delighted.

The magnificence of the Roman emperors, in embellishing the city, rose to such a height, that they ransacked all the quarries of Egypt for alabaster, granite, porphyry, and every kind of marble that country afforded; and, though time and Gothic rage must have destroyed great quantities, yet such was the profusion brought to Rome, that, besides the infinite number of columns, statues, vases, and tables still preserved entire; one may see the very posts in the streets, all of them, without exception, made of granite, alabaster, or marble; but the most stupendous sight of all, are the monstrous obelisks, which consist of only one piece of marble. I meditate on these objects, says Sharpe, till I am lost in wonder and confusion. We have no idea of the mechanical powers by which they are dug out of the quarry, and brought from Egypt. We are astonished at the enormous size of the stones at Stonehenge, cannot comprehend by what contrivance they were carried, and laid in that form; but the biggest of them is small, when compared to the largest obelisk at Rome.

In the beauty and magnificence of the religious buildings and palaces, says Busching, modern Rome, by far, surpasses the ancient; having a multitude of splendid churches, stately palaces, and large houses. The parish churches alone amount to eighty, together with upwards of thirty alms-houses. Most of the houses are of brick, but those of the better sort have the doors, windows, and supporters, of free-stone. Above two-thirds of the houses are the property of the churches, and convents, to which new purpurchases are continually annexed. The streets are well paved, and some of them with brick; but neither kept clean, nor carefully illuminated.

London seems to be the only town, in Europe, where that convenience is rightly understood, and carried effectually into execution; for at Paris, the candles, in their brown glass lanterns, give but little light whilst they burn; and, being small, are soon extinguished. It is astonishing this evil should not be reformed, as every night's experience shews how much darkness invites to the perpetration of shameful, and atrocious deeds. The cardinals are allowed to take flambeaux behind their coaches; all their princes, and people of quality, are forbidden to use any other light than small lanterns; of which every footman, behind the coach, carries one.

Nothing can be more magnificent than the entrance into Rome, by the porta del popolo; the road is fine, the approach beautiful, and the gate handsome. The traveller immediately enters a large area, from the farther side of which he sees the three principal streets of the city, diverging, and flanked by the fronts of two handsome churches. In the middle is a noble Egyptian obelisk, and a fountain. The numerous gates of the city are by no means handsome, or ornamented. The Flaminean gate, or porta del popolo, is the best of them; the outside by Buonarotti, and that next the city by Bernini.

Some of the principal streets are of considerable length, and perfectly straight. That called the Corso is most frequented. It runs from the Porto del popolo, along the side of the Campus Martius. Here the nobility display their equipages during the carnival, and take the air in the evenings, in fine weather. It is, indeed, the great scene of Roman magnificence and amusement.

The shops, on each side, are three or four feet higher than the street, and there is a path for the convenience of foot-passengers, on a level with the shop. The palaces, of which there are several in this street, range in a line with the houses, having no court before them, like the hotels of Paris; and are not shut up from the sight of the citizens, by high and gloomy walls, like Devonshire and Burlington houses, in London. Such dismal barricades are more suitable to the unsociable character of a proud baron, in the days of aristocratic tyranny, than to the hospitable and benevolent disposition of their present proprietors.

The corso commences at the fine area, immediately within the Porto del popolo. This gate is built in a noble stile of elegant simplicity, from the design of Michael Angelo, executed by Bernini.

The strada felice, in the higher part of the city, is about a mile and a half in length, from the Trinita del monte, to the church of St. John Lateran, on the Pincean hill. This street runs all in one line, the view, only interrupted by the fine church of St. Maria Maggiora. The strada felice is crossed by another straight street, called the Strada di Porta Pia, considerably above a mile in length, terminated at one end by that gate; and, at the other, by four colossal statues, in white marble, of two horses led by two men; supposed, by some, to be representations of Alexander taming Bucephalus; and, according to others, of Castor and Pollux. They are placed before the pope's palace, on the Quirinal hill, and have a noble effect.

It would be more difficult to convey an idea of the smaller and less regular streets. We shall, therefore, only observe in general, that Rome, at present, exhibits a strange mixture of magnificent and interesting, and of common and beggarly objects; the former consists of palaces, churches, and fountains; and, above all, of the remains of antiquity. The latter comprehends all the rest of the city.

There are many squares in Rome, the principal ornaments of which are fountains. That in the Piazza Novana is the most magnificent in the whole world. It is a vast rock, pierced through and through, so as to be divided into four parts, which unite at the top where the obelisk is placed: towards the bottom, of each part of the rock, is seated a colossal figure, representing the principal rivers with their attributes. The fountain of Paul V. is in a very bad style; but, the water is so rapid, as to turn several mills. It was brought by Augustus from the lake of Bracciano, thirty-five miles from Rome, to supply his naumachia; and there are now some remains of the aqueduct, near the villa Pamsili. The Fontana di Trevi is a noble fountain. This is the only water which now comes to Rome by an ancient aqueduct; it is chiefly under ground, which is the reason that it has been so much better preserved than any other. This is also the best water in Rome; and all the lower parts of the city being furnished from the fountain of Trevi, those who prefer good water to good air, live in those parts. It was brought from the Sabina, by Agrippa, to supply the Campus Martius.

These fountains are the remains of the munificence and industry of the ancient Romans, who were extremely delicate in the article of water: but, great applause, however, is also due to the different popes, who have been at the expence of restoring and repairing those noble channels of health, pleasure, and convenience. This great plenty of water, nevertheless, has not induced the Romans to be cleanly. Their streets, and even their palaces, are disgraced with filth. The noble Piazza Novana, though adorned with three or four fountains, one of which, the most magnificent, perhaps, that Europe can produce, is, notwithstanding this provision, almost as dirty as West Smithfield, where the cattle are sold in London. The corridors, arcades, and even staircases, belonging to their most elegant palaces, are depositories of nastiness; and, indeed, in summer, smell as strong as spirits of hartshorn. It is highly probable, their ancestors were not much more cleanly. If we consider that the cities and suburbs of Rome, in the reign of Claudius, contained about seven millions of inhabitants; a number, at least, equal to the sum total of all the souls in England; that great part of ancient Rome was allotted to temples, porticos, basilicae, theatres, baths, circuses, public and private walks and gardens; where very few, if any, of this great number lodged; that by far the greater part of these inhabitants were slaves, and did not enjoy the conveniences of life; and, that the use of linen was scarce known; we must naturally conclude, they were strangely crouded together; and that, in general, they were a very frowzy generation. That they were crouded together, appears from the height of their houses, which the poet Rutilius compared to towers made for scaling heaven. In order to remedy this inconvenience, Augustus Caesar published a decree, that for the future no houses should be built above seventy feet high; which, at a moderate computation, might make six stories. But what seems, beyond all dispute, to prove that the ancients were dirty creatures, are these two particulars. Vespasian laid a tax upon urine and ordure, on pretence of being at great expence in clearing the streets from such a nuisance; an imposition which amounted to about fourteen-pence a year, for each individual; and when Heliogabalus ordered all the cobwebs of the city, and suburbs, to be collected, they were found to weigh ten thousand pounds. This was intended as a demonstration of the great number of inhabitants; but it was proof of their dirt, rather than of their popularity. To this we may likewise add the delicate custom of taking vomits, at each others houses, when they were invited to dinner, or supper, that they might prepare their stomach for gormandizing; a beastly proof of their nastiness, as well as gluttony. Horace, in his description of the banquet of Nasidenus, says, that when the canopy, under which they sat, fell down, it brought along with it as much dirt, as is raised by a hard gale of wind in dry weather.

I believe, adds Smollett, the moderns retain more of the customs of the ancient Romans, than is generally imagined. When I first saw the infants, at the foundling hospital in Paris, so swathed with bandages that the very sight of them made my eyes water; I little dreamed that the prescription of the ancients could be pleaded for this custom, equally shocking and absurd; but, in the capital at Rome, I met with the antique statue of a child emailloté, exactly in the same manner, rolled up, like an Egyptian mummy, from the feet. The circulation of the blood, in such a case, must be obstructed on the whole surface of the body, and nothing at liberty but the head; which is the only part that ought to be confined. Is it not surprising that common sense should not point out, even to the most ignorant, that these bandages must heat the tender infant into a fever; must hinder the return of the muscles, and the play of the joints, so necessary to health and nutrition; and that while the refluent blood is obstructed in the veins, which run on the surface of the body, the arteries, which lie deep, without the reach of compression, are continually pouring their contents into the head, where the blood meets with no resistance? The vessels of the brain are naturally lax, and the very futures of the skull are yet open. What are the consequences of this cruel swaddling? The limbs are wasted; the joints grow rickety; the brain is compressed, and a hydrocephalus, with a great head, and sore eyes, ensues. This abominable custom is, perhaps, one great cause of the bandy legs, diminutive bodies, and large heads, so frequent in the south of France, and Italy.

I was no less surprized to find the modern fashion of curling the hair, borrowed, in a great measure, from the coxcombs and coquettes of antiquity. I saw a bust of Nero in the gallery at Florence, the hair represented in rows of buckles, like that of a French petit-maitre, conformable to the picture drawn of him by Suetonius. But there is a bust in the capital of Julia Pia, the second wife of Septimus Severus, with a moveable peruke, dressed exactly in the fashionable mode, with this difference, that there is no part of it frizzed; nor is there any appearance of pomatum and powder. These improvements the beau monde have borrowed from the natives of the Cape of Good Hope.

In a part of the city, across the Tyber, dwelt the Transtyberini, or Transteveri, the descendants, as they call themselves, of the ancient Romans. This people were once called other people of Rome, but intermarry among themselves. Their features are very different from the rest of the inhabitants of Rome; and they are as distinguishable by their common oaths, as by their other customs. A Transtyberinian will swear by the head of Bacchus, and the body of Jove, when other inhabitants of Rome will swear by the blood of Christ, and by the several saints. There is a prince, and several noblemen, of this fraternity.

Modern Rome does not cover more than one third of the space within the walls; and those parts that were most frequented of old, are now entirely abandoned. From the capital to the column there is nothing entire, but one or two churches, built with the fragments of ancient edifices. You descend from the capitol between the remaining pillars of two temples, the pedestals, and part of the shafts, sunk in the rubbish; then, passing through the triumphal arch of Septimus Severus, you proceed along the fort of Mons Palatinus, quite covered with the ruins of the ancient palace, belonging to the Roman emperors; and, at the foot of it, there are some beautiful detached pillars still standing. On the left you see the remains of the templum pacis, which seems to have been the largest, and most magnificent, of all the temples in Rome. It was built, and dedicated, by the emperor Vespasian; who brought into it all the treasures, and precious vessels, which he found in the temple of Jerusalem. This temple was likewise famous for its library, mentioned by Aulus Gellius. Fronting you are the noble ruins of that vast amphitheatre, called the Colossaeum, which has been dismantled, and dilapidated, by the Gothic popes and princes of Modern Rome, to build and adorn their paltry palaces, Behind the amphitheatre, were with the thermae of the same emperor, Titus Vespasian. In the same quarter was the Circus Maximus; and the whole space from hence, on both sides, to the walls of Rome, comprehending above twice as much ground as the modern city, is almost covered with the monuments of antiquity. The miserable houses, and even garden walls, of the peasants in this district, are built with the precious materials of shafts, and capitals of marble columns, heads, arms, legs, and mutilated trunks of statues. What pity it is that, among all the remains of antiquity, there is not one of their private dwelling houses existing. I should have been glad, says Smollet, to have known how the senators of Rome were lodged. I want to be better informed touching the cava oedium, focus, the ara deorum penatum, the conclavia, trilinica, and caenationes; the atria, where the women resided, and employed themselves in the woollen manufacture; and the Hysta, which were shady walks, between two porticos, where the men exercised themselves in winter. I am disgusted by the modern taste of architecture, though I am no judge of the art. The churches, and palaces, of their days, are crouded with petty ornaments, which distract the eye; and, by breaking into a variety of little parts, destroy the effect of the whole. Every door and window has its separate ornaments, its moulding, frize, cornice and tympanum; then there is such an assemblage of useless festoons, pillars, pilasters, with their architraves, entablatures, and I know not what, that nothing great or uniform remains to fill the view; and we in vain look for that simplicity of grandeur, those large masses of light and shadow, and the inexpressible tout ensemble, which characterizes the edifices of the ancients. A great edifice, to have its full effect, ought to be isolé, that is, detached from all other, with a large space around it, but the palaces of Rome, and indeed of all the other cities of Italy, are so hemmed in, among other mean houses, that their beauty and magnificence are, in a great measure, concealed. Even those which face open streets, and piazzas, are clean only in front. The other apartments are darkened by the vicinity of ordinary houses; and their views confined by dirty, and disagreeable objects. Within the court there is generally a noble colonnade, all around, and an open corridor above; but the stairs are usually narrow, steep, and high. The want of sash windows, the dullness of thin small glass lozenges, the dirty brick floors, and the crimson hangings, laced with gold, contribute to cast a gloom on their apartments. I might add to these causes, a number of pictures executed on melancholy subjects, antique, mutilated statues, busts, bas-reliefs, and sepulchral stones, with which their rooms are adorned. It must be owned, however, that there are some objections to this general rule. The villa of Cardinal Alexander Albani is light, gay, airy; yet the rooms are too small, and too much decorated with carving and gilding, which is a kind of gingerbread work. The apartments of one of the princes Borghese are furnished in the English taste; and, in the palace of the constable Colonna, there is a saloon, or gallery; which, for the proportions, lights, furniture and ornaments, is the most noble, elegant, and agreeable apartment I ever saw.

It is diverting, adds Smollett, to hear an Italian expatiate on the greatness of modern Rome. He will tell you there are above three hundred palaces in the city; that there is scarce a Roman prince, whose revenue does not exceed two hundred thousand crowns; and that Rome produces, not only the most learned men, but also the most refined politicians, in the universe. To one of them, talking in this strain, I replied, that instead of three hundred palaces, the number did not amount to more than fourscore; that I had been informed, on good authority, there were not six individuals in Rome, who had so much as forty thousand crowns a year, about £. 10,000. sterling; and that to say their princes were so rich, and their politicians so refined, was, in effect, a severe satire upon them, for not employing their wealth, and their talents, for the advantage of their country. I asked why their cardinals and princes did not invite, and encourage, industrious people to settle, and cultivate the campagna of Rome, which is a desart? Why they did not raise a subscription to drain the marshes, in the vicinity of the city, and thus meliorate the air? Why they did not contribute their wealth, and even their political refinements, in augmenting their forces, by sea and land; in introducing commerce and manufactures, and in giving some consequence to their state, which was no more than a mite in the political state of Europe?

The only appearance of a fortification, in this city, is the castle of S. Angelo, situated on the further bank of the Tyber; but this castle, which was formerly the moles Adriani, could not hold out half-a-day, against a battery of ten pieces of cannon, properly directed. It was an expedient lest to the invention of the modern Romans, to convert an ancient tomb into a citadel. It could only serve as a temporary retreat for the Pope, in times of popular commotion, and on other sudden emergencies; as it happened in the case of Pope Clement VII. when the troops of the emperor took the city by assault; and this only while he resided at the Vatican, from whence there is a covered gallery, continued to the castle. The castle of S. Angelo, how ridiculous soever as a fortress, appears reputable as a noble monument of antiquity; and, though standing in a low situation, is one of the finest objects that strike the eye, for a stranger, approaching Rome.

CHAP. III. St. Peter's—Pantheon—and Amphitheatre of Vespasian.

THE incomparable church of St. Peter is built in the form of a Latin cross; and the proportion is so exactly observed in the length, height, and breadth, that the eye cannot perceive any thing extraordinary large, in any of these dimensions, although the whole, taken together, is of a very uncommon bulk and extent. For largeness, and beauty, it may be called the metropolitan church, not only of Rome and Italy, but of the whole world. In this place we see to what an amazing pitch the Romish church, which is so fond of external pomp and splendor, has within two centuries carried its favourite scheme, viz. that of captivating the senses, and inspiring the minds of the ignorant with awe, and submission to the clergy. Fontana, in his account of this church, computes that, in his time, it had cost above eighty millions of Roman crowns; or, about twenty millions sterling. In the opinion of many it surpasses, in size and magnificence, the finest monuments of ancient architecture. The Grecian, and Roman temples, were more distinguished for the elegance of their form, than their magnitude. The Pantheon, which was erected to all the gods, is the most entire antique temple in Rome. It is said that Michael Angelo, to confirm the triumph of modern, over ancient architecture, made the dome of St. Peter's of the same diameter with the pantheon; raising the immense fabric on four pilasters; whereas the whole circle of the rotunda rests upon the ground. This great artist was, perhaps, delighted with the idea of being thought as superior to the ancient architects, as he was conscious of being inferior to some of the sculptors of antiquity.

This church, the most wonderful in the world, has a thousand faults, a thousand bad things in sculpture, painting, &c. &c. But I pity the man, says Sherlock, who thinks of looking for them; when a fault presents itself;, let him advance a step further,—a sublime beauty expects him.

These ideas struck me while I was walking in this church. I went thither with a Pole, a Frenchman, and an Englishman; the Englishman looked for beauties; the Frenchman, for faults; the Pole, for nothing. When we were at the end of the church, "Behold," says the Frenchman, "that Charity of Bernini, how wretched it is! the air of her head is affected, her flesh is without bone, and she makes frightful faces." "These remarks appear to me just enough," replies the Englishman, "but look on the other side of the altar, you will see one of the finest pieces of modern sculpture; the justice of Guglielmo della porta." "You are in the right," says the Frenchman, (without looking at it), "but that child at the foot of the Charity, disgusts me more than its mother." While the Englishman continued to praise the Justice, and the Frenchman to criticise the Charity; the Pole looked at the door by which we entered, and said to me, that "the church was much longer than he imagined."

All who have seen St. Paul's in London, may, by an enlargement of its dimensions, form some idea of the external appearance of St. Peter's. But the resemblance fails entirely, on comparing them within; St. Peter's being lined, in many parts, with the most precious and beautiful marble, adorned with valuable pictures, and all the powers of sculpture.

The approach to St. Peter's church, excells that to St. Paul's in a still greater proportion, than the former surpasses the latter, either in size, or in the richness and beauty of the internal ornaments. A magnificent portico advances on each side from the front, by which means a square court is formed immediately before the steps which lead into the church. The two porticos form two sides of the square, the third is closed by the front of the church, and the fourth is open. A colonnade, four columns deep, commences at the extremities of the porticos; and, embracing in an oval direction, a space far wider than the square, forms the most magnificent area, that perhaps was seen before any building. This oval colonnade is crowned with a balustrade, ornamented by a great number of statues, and consists of above three hundred large pillars, forming three separate walks, which lead to the advanced portico, and from that into the church. In the middle of the immense area, stands an Egyptian obelisk of granite; and, to the right and left of this, two very beautiful fountains refresh the atmosphere with streams of clear water. The delighted eye glancing over these splendid objects, would rest with complete satisfaction on the stupendous fabric, to which they serve as embellishments, if the facade of this celebrated church, had been equal in beauty and elegance to the rest of the building. But this is by no means the case; and every impartial judge must acknowledge, that the front of St. Peter's, is, in those particulars, inferior to that of our St. Paul's.

The length of St. Peter's, taken on the outside, is exactly seven hundred and thirty feet; the breadth, five hundred and twenty; and the height, from the pavement to the top of the cross, which crowns the cupola, four hundred and fifty. The grand portico, before the entrance, is two hundred and sixteen feet in length, and forty in breadth.

It is usual to desire strangers, on their first entering this church, to guess at the size of the objects, which, on account of the distance, seems less than they are in reality. The statues of the angels in particular, which support the founts of holy water, when viewed from the door, seem no bigger than children; but, when approached near, they are found to be six feet high. We make no mistakes, on seeing a living man at the same distance, or at a greater; because the knowledge we have of man's real size precludes the possibility of our being mistaken, and we make allowance for the diminution which distance occasions; but, angels, and other figures in sculpture, having no determined standard, but being under the arbitrary will of the statuary, who gives them the bulk of giants, or dwarfs, as best suits his purpose; we do not know what allowance to make; and the eye un-used to such large masses, is confounded, and incapacitated from forming a right judgment of an object six feet high, or any other dimensions with which it is not previously acquainted.

It has been frequently remarked, that the proportions of this church are so fine, and the symmetry of its different parts so exquisite, that the whole seems considerably smaller than it really is. It was, however, certainly intended to appear a great and sublime object, and to produce admiration from the vastness of its dimensions. It should seem therefore, that any thing which has a tendency to defeat this effect, cannot, with propriety, be called an excellence.

Having noticed St. Peter's church, unquestionably the finest piece of modern architecture in Rome, we will mention some of the best specimens of the ancient. And first, the Pantheon; which, though not the largest of the Roman temples, is the most perfect which now remains. The temple of Jupiter Capitolinus, and the temple of Peace, if we may trust to the accounts we have of the first, and to the ruins of the second, were both much larger than the Pantheon. In spite of the depredations which this last has sustained from Goths, Vandals, and Popes, it still remains a beautiful monument of Roman taste. The pavilion of the great altar, which stands under the cupola of St. Peter's, and the four wreathed pillars of Corinthian brass which support it, were formed out of the spoils of the Pantheon; which, after all, and with the weight of eight hundred years upon its head, has still a probability of outliving its proud rapacious rival. From the round form of this temple, it has obtained the name of Rotunda. Its height is a hundred and fifty feet, and its diameter nearly the same. Within, it is divided into eight parts; the gate at which you enter forming one; the other seven compartments, if they may be so called, are each of them distinguished by two fluted Corinthian pillars, and as many pilastres of Giallo Antico. The capitals and bases are of white marble; these support a circular entablature. The wall is perpendicular for half the height of the temple; it then slopes forward as it ascends, the circumference gradually diminishing, till it terminates in an opening of about five and twenty feet in diameter. There are no windows; the central opening in the vault admitting a sufficiency of light, has a much finer effect than windows could have had. No great inconvenience can happen from this opening. The conical form of the temple prevents the rain from falling near the walls, where the altars now are, and where the statues of the gods were formerly placed. The rain which falls in the middle, immediately drills through holes, which perforate a large piece of porphyry, that forms the centre of the pavements; the whole of which consists of various pieces of marble, agate, and other materials, which have been picked up from the ruins, and now compose a kind of Mosaic work.

The portico was added by Marcus Agrippa, the son-in-law of Augustus. It is supported by sixteen pillows of granite, five feet in diameter, and of a single piece each. Upon the frieze in the front is an inscription in large capitals, signifying that it was founded by Marcus Agrippa, the son of Lucius, during his third consulship. Some are of opinion, that the Pantheon is much more ancient than the Augustan age; and that the porticos, which is the only part those antiquarians admit to be the work of Agrippa, though beautiful in itself, does not correspond with the simplicity of the temple.

As the Pantheon is the most entire, the amphitheatre of Vespasian is the most stupendous, monument of antiquity in Rome. It was finished by his son Titus, and obtained the name of Colosseum, afterwards corrupted into Coliseum, from a colossal statue of Apollo, which was placed before it. This vast structure was built of Tiburtine stone, which is remarkably durable. Had the public buildings, of the ancient Romans, met with no more inveterate enemy than Time, we might, at this day, contemplate the greater number in all their original perfection; they were formed for the admiration of much later ages than the present. This amphitheatre, in particular, might have stood entire for two thousand years to come: for what are the slow corrosions of time, in comparison with the rapid destruction from barbarians, the zeal of bigots, and the avarice of popes and cardinals? The first depredation, made on this stupendous building, was by the inhabitants of Rome themselves; at that time greater Goths than their conquerors. We are told they applied to Theodoric, whose court was then at Ravenna, for liberty to take the stone of this amphitheatre, for some public work they were carrying on. The marble cornices, the frieze, and other ornaments of this building, have been carried away, at various times, to adorn palaces; and the stones have been taken to build churches; and, sometimes, to repair the walls of Rome, the most useless work of all. For of what importance are walls to a city, without a garrison? About one half of the external circuit still remains; from which, and the ruins of the other parts, a pretty exact idea may be formed of the original structure. By a computation made by Mr. Byres it could contain eighty five thousand spectators, making a convenient allowance for each. Fourteen chapels are now erected within. This expedient has saved some of the finest remains of heathen magnificence, from utter destruction.

Our admiration of the Romans is tempered with horror, when we reflect on the use formerly made of this immense building, and the dreadful scenes which were acted in the arena; when not only criminals condemned to death, but also prisoners taken in war, were obliged to butcher each other, for the entertainment of an inhuman populace. The combats of gladiators were at first used at Rome, at funerals only; where prisoners were obliged to assume that profession, and fight before the tombs of deceased generals, or magistrates, in imitation of the barbarous custom of the Greeks, of sacrificing captives at the tombs of their heroes.

This horrid magnificence, which at first was exhibited only on the death of consuls, and men of the highest distinction, came, gradually, to be claimed by every citizen, who was sufficiently rich to defray the expence; and as the people's fondness, for these combats, encreased every day, they were no longer confined to funeral solemnities; but became customary on days of public rejoicings, and were exhibited, at an amazing expence, by some generals, after victories. In the progress of riches, luxury and vice, it became a profession in Rome to deal in gladiators. Men, called Lanistee, made it their business to purchase prisoners, and slaves; to have them instructed in the use of the various weapons; and, when any Roman chose to amuse the people with their favourite show, or to entertain a select company of his own friends, upon any particular occasion, he applied to the Lanistee; who, for a small price, furnished him with as many pair of these unhappy combatants, as he required. They had various names given to them, according to the different manner in which they were armed. Towards the end of the republic, some of the rich, and powerful citizens, had great numbers of gladiators of their own, who were daily exercised by the Lanistee; and always kept ready for fighting, when ordered by their proprietor. Those who were often victorious, or had the good fortune to please their masters, had their liberty granted them; on which they generally quitted the profession; though it sometimes happened that those who were remarkably skilful, continued it, either from vanity, or poverty, even after they had obtained their freedom; and the applause, bestowed on those gladiators, had the effect of inducing men, born free, to chuse this for a profession, which they exercised for money, till age impaired their strength, and address. They then hung up their arms in the temple of Hercules, and appeared no more on the arena.

There were many amphitheatres at Rome, as well as in other towns of Italy, and in many provinces of the empire; but this of Vespasian was the largest that ever was built. That of Verma is the next in size, in Italy; and the remains of the amphitheatre at Nismes prove, that it was the most magnificent structure, of this kind, in any of the Roman provinces. The Romans were so excessively fond of these exhibitions, that where colonies were established, it was found necessary to give public shews of this kind, to induce the emigrants to remain in their new country; and, in the provinces in which it was thought necessary, that a considerable body of troops should remain constantly; structures of this kind were erected at vast labour and expence, and were found the best means of inducing the young officers to submit chearfully, to a long absence from the capital, and preventing the common soldiers from desertion. The profusion of human blood, which was shed in the arena, by the cruel prodigality of the emperors, and the refinements which were invented, to augment the barbarous pleasure of the spectators, are proofs of the dreadful corruption and depravity, to which human nature is capable of attaining, even among a learned and enlightened people, when unrestrained by the mild precepts of a benevolent religion. We are told that the gladiators bred for the use of particular patricians, as well as those kept for hire by the Lanistee, were, for some weeks, before they appeared in the arena, fed upon such succulent diet, as would soonest fill their veins, that they might bleed freely at every wound. They were instructed by the Lanistee, not only in the art of fighting, but also in the most graceful manner of dying; and, when these wretched men felt themselves mortally wounded, they assumed such attitudes, as they knew pleased the beholders; and, they seemed to receive pleasure themselves, from the applause bestowed upon them in their last moments.

When a gladiator was thrown by his antagonist to the ground, and directly laid down his arms, it was a sign that he could resist no longer, and declared himself vanquished, but still his life depended on the spectators. If they were pleased with his performance, or in a merciful disposition, they held up their hands, with the thumb folded down, and the life of the man was spared; but, if they were in the humour to see him die, they held up the hand clenched, with thumb only erect. As soon as the prostrate victim beheld that fatal signal, he knew all hopes of life were vain, and immediately presented his breast to the sword of his adversary; who, whatever his own inclinations might be, was obliged to put him to death instantly.

As these combats formed the supreme pleasure of the inhabitants of Rome, the most cruel of their emperors were sometimes the most popular; merely, because they gratified the people, without restraint, in their favourite amusement. When Marcus Aurelius thought it necessary, for the public service, to recruit his army from the gladiators of Rome; it raised more discontent among the populace, than many of the wildest pranks of Caligula. In the times of some of the Roman emperors, the lower class of Roman citizens were certainly as worthless a set of men as ever existed; stained with all the vices which arise from idleness and dependance; living upon the largesses of the great; passing their whole time in the circus and amphitheatres, where every sentiment of humanity was annihilated within their breasts, and where the agonies and torments of their fellow-creatures were their chief pastime. That no occasion might be lost, of indulging this savage taste of the populace, criminals were condemned to sight with wild beasts, in the arena, or were exposed, unarmed, to be torn in pieces by them; and other times they were blindfolded; and, in that condition, obliged to cut and slaughter each other. So that, instead of victims solemnly sacrificed to public justice, they seemed to be brought in as buffoons, to raise the mirth of the spectators.

Whilst we express horror and indignation at the fondness, which the Romans displayed for the combats of the amphitheatres, let us reflect whether this proceeded from any cruelty of disposition, inherent in that people, or belongs to mankind in general; let us reflect, whether it is probable, that the people of any other nation would be gradually led, by the same degrees, to an equal passion for such horrid entertainments: let us consider whether there is reason to suspect that those who arm cocks with steel, and take pleasure in beholding the spirited little animals cut one another to death, would not take the same, or superior delight, in obliging men to slaughter each other, if they had the power. It is not long since that boxing, cudgelling, and fighting with the broad sword, was introduced into London; and prize-fighters were found, who would cut and flash each other for the amusement of the spectators. And what restrains the continuance, but benevolent laws? Is there no reason to believe, that the influence of a purer religion, and brighter example, than were known to the heathen world, prevents mankind from those enormities, at this time, which were countenanced formerly? As soon as the benevolent principles of christianity were received by the Romans, as the laws of the Deity, the prisoners, and the slaves, were treated with humanity; and the bloody exhibitions in the amphitheatre were abolished.

CHAP. IV. Forum Romanum—Triumphal Arches—Tarpeian Rock. Trajan's Pillar, and other Remains of Antiquity.

FROM the back view of the capitol is beheld the Forum Romanum, now exhibiting a melancholy, but interesting view of the devastation wrought by the united force of time, avarice and bigotry. The first objects which meet the eye, on this side of the hill, are three fine pillars, two-thirds of them buried in the ruins of the old capitol. They are said to be the remains of the temple of Jupiter Tonans, built by Augustus, in gratitude for having escaped death, from a stroke of lightning. Near these are the remains of Jupiter Stator; consisting of three very elegant small Corinthian pillars, with their entablature; the temple of Concord, where Cicero assembled the senate, on the discovery of Cataline's conspiracy; the temple of Romulus and Remus, and that of Antoninus and Faustina, just by it, both converted into modern churches; the ruins of the magnificent temple of Peace, built immediately after the taking of Jerusalem, the Roman empire being then in profound peace. This is said to have been the finest temple in Old Rome; part of the materials of Nero's golden horse, which Vespasian pulled down, were used in erecting this grand edifice. The only entire pillar remaining, of this temple, was placed, by Paul V. before the church of Santa Maria Maggiore. It is a most beautiful fluted Corinthian column, and gives a very high idea of the temple, to which it originally belonged. His holiness has crowned it with an image of the Virgin Mary; and, in the inscription on the pedestal, he gives his reason for choosing a column belonging to the temple of Peace, as an ornament to a church dedicated to the virgin.

Ex cujus visceribus princeps verae pacis genitus est.

i.e. From whose bowels the prince of true peace sprang.

Of many triumphal arches, which formerly stood in Rome, there are only three now remaining, all near the capitol, and forming entrances to the Forum; those of Titus, Septimus Severus, and Constantine. The last is by much the finest of the three; but its chief beauties are not genuine; nor, properly speaking, its own; they consist of some admirable bas-reliefs, stolen from the Forum of Trajan, and representing that emperor's victories over the Dacians. This theft might, perhaps, not have been so notorious to posterity, if the artists of Constantine's time had not added some figures which make the fraud apparent; and, by their great inferiority, evince the degeneracy of the art, in the interval between the reign of these two emperors.

The bas-reliefs of the arch of Titus represent the table of shew-bread, the trumpets, the golden candle-sticks, with seven branches, and other utensils brought from the temple of Jerusalem. The quarter which is allotted for the Jews is not at a great distance from this arch. There are about nine thousand of that unfortunate nation at present in Rome; the lineal descendants of those brought captive, by Titus, from Jerusalem. A striking instance of sensibility in this people is, that they ever cautiously avoid passing through this arch, though it is directly in their way to the Campo Vaccino, chusing rather to make a circuit, and enter the forum at another place.

There are many other interesting ruins in and about the Campo Vaccino, but of some structures which we know formerly stood here, no vestige is now to be seen. This is the case with the arch which was erected in honour of the Fabian family. There is the strongest reason to believe, that the ancient forum was entirely surrounded with temples; basilicae, and public buildings of various kinds, and adorned with porticos and colonades. In the time of the republic assemblies of the people were held there, laws proposed, and justice administered. In it was the rostrum from whence the orators harangued the people. All, who aspired at dignities, came hither to canvass suffrages. The bankers had their office near the forum, as well as those who received the revenues of the commonwealth; and all kind of business was transacted in this place.

The Tarpeian rock is a continuation of that on which the capitol was built; I went to that part, says Moore, from which criminals condemned to death were thrown. M. Byres has measured the height; it is exactly fifty-eight feet perpendicular; and, he thinks the ground at the bottom, from evident marks, is twenty feet higher than it was originally; so that, before, this accumulation of rubbish, the precipice must have been eighty feet perpendicular. In reading the history of the Romans, the vast idea we form of that people naturally extends to the city of Rome; the hills on which it was built, and every thing belonging to it. We imagine the Tarpeian rock as a tremendous precipice; and, if afterwards we ever have an opportunity of actually seeing it, the height falls so short of our expectations, that we are apt to believe it a great deal less than it is in reality. A mistake of this kind, says Moore, has led bishop Burnet into the strange assertion, that the Tarpeian rock is so very low, that a man would think it no great matter to leap down it for his diversion. Criminals, thrown from this precipice, were literally thrown out of the city of old Rome, into the Campus Martius, which was a large plain, of a triangular shape; two sides of the triangle being formed by the Tyber, and the base by the capitol, and by buildings extending three miles nearly in a parallel line with it. The Campus Martius had its name from a small temple, built in it, at a very early period and dedicated to Mars; or it might have this name from the military exercises performed there. In this field, the great assemblies of the people, called census, or lustrum, were held every fifth year; the consuls, censors, and tribunes were elected; the levies of troops were made; and there the Roman youth exercised themselves in riding, driving the chariot, shooting with the bow, using the sling, darting the javelin, throwing the discus or quoit, in wrestling or running; and, when covered with sweat and dust, in consequence of these exercises, they washed their bodies clean by swimming in the Tiber.

The dead bodies, of the most illustrious citizens, were also burnt in this field, which was adorned gradually by statues and trophies, erected to the memory of distinguished men. But every feature of its ancient appearance is now hid, by the streets and buildings of modern Rome.

The inhabitants of modern Rome may be excused in chusing this situation for their houses; though, by so doing, they have deprived us of a view of the Campus Martius. But, surely they ought to shew more solicitude for preserving the antiquities than they do; and they might, without inconvenience, find some place for a cow-market, of less importance than the ancient Forum. It is not in their power to restore it to its former splendor; but they might, at least, have prevented its falling back to the state in which Aeneas found it, when he went to visit the poor Evander.

As Rome increased in size, and number of inhabitants, one Forum was found too small, and many others were erected in process of time; but, when we, speak of the Forum, without any distinguishing epithet, the ancient one is understood. In these Basilicae were built, justice administered, and business likewise transacted. The emperors were fond of having such places named after them. The accounts we have of the Forums of Nerva, and that of Trajan, give the highest idea of their grandeur and elegance; three Corinthian pillars, with their entablature, are all that remain of the former; of the latter, the noble column, placed in the middle, still preserves all its original beauty. It consists of twenty-three circular pieces of white marble, horizontally placed one above the other; it is about twelve feet diameter at the bottom, and ten at the top. The plinth of the base is a piece of marble twenty-one feet square. A staircase, consisting of one hundred and eighty-three steps, and sufficiently wide to admit a person to ascend, is cut out of the solid marble, leaving a small pillar in the middle, round which the stairs wind, from the bottom to the top. The stairs are lighted by forty-one windows, exceedingly narrow on the outside, that they might not interrupt the connection of the bas-reliefs, but which gradually widen within, and by that means give sufficient light. The most remarkable events of Trajan's expedition against the Dacians, are admirably wrought in a continued spiral line, from the bottom of the column to the top. The figures, towards the top, are too far removed from the eye to be seen perfectly. Viewed from any considerable distance, all the sculpture is lost; and a plain fluted pillar, of the same proportions, would have had as fine an effect. But such a frugal plan would not have been so glorious to the prince, whose victories are engraven; or so interesting to the legionary soldiers, many of whom, no doubt, are here personally represented.

Exclusive of the statue, this beautiful pillar is one hundred and twenty feet high. The ashes of Trajan were deposited in an urn at the bottom, and his statue at the top. Pope Sixtus V. in the room of Trajan, has placed a statue of St. Peter upon this column. I observed, says Moore, to a gentleman with whom I visited this pillar, that there did not seem to be much propriety in placing the figure of St. Peter upon a monument representing the victories, and erected in honour of the emperor Trajan. "There is some propriety, however," replied he, "in having made the statue of brass."

Amongst other ruins, of this once imperial mistress of the world, Caracalla's baths are in high estimation, with all the lovers of antiquity. They appear to occupy as much ground as a moderate sized town; and, not only afforded conveniences for near three thousand persons to bathe at one time, without being seen by each other, together with squares and courts for all kinds of sports and other public spectacles; but even science found a place in the circumference of these baths. There were porticos for philosophers to assemble in. The whole adorned with a profusion of statues, and the most precious ornaments luxury could find or invent. What, alas remains! Nothing but broken walls and naked bricks; yet, even these last ate fine in their way, as none can be formed at this day of so large a size; they are also of an extraordinary texture and colour. The pipes, which conveyed the water to a prodigious height into the upper apartments, are made of as fine clay as the old red china, and equally smooth. One part of this immense building remains sufficiently entire, to strike awe into the spectator; it consists of a prodigious dome, which has no support but from the wall, whence it springs; and, like an unfinished rainbow, seems suspended in the air. Close to these baths, stood Caracalla's magnificent palace; but of this there is not the least vestige remaining.

Dioclesian's baths were twelve hundred feet square, and yet not so large as those of Caracalla. They occupied all the gardens of the Carthusian convent, the public granaries, the great square before them, and the church of St. Bernardo, which is circular and antique. A great part of these thermae is converted into a church. The remains of those of Titus are immense vaults, and corridors under ground, painted with arabesques; from which it is said, Raphael took the idea of his paintings, in the loggie of the vatican.

The therma Dioclesianoe, says Smollett, might be termed an august academy, for the use and instruction of the Roman people. The Pinacotheca, of this building, was a complete museum of all the curiosities of art and nature; and there were public schools for all the sciences. They were adorned with all the charms of painting, sculpture, and architecture. The pipes for conveying the water were of silver. Many of the lavaera were of precious marble, illuminated by lamps of chrystal. Among the statues were found, the famous Toro and Hercules Farnese.

Bathing was certainly necessary to health and cleanliness, in a hot country like Italy, especially before the use of linen was known; but these purposes would have been much better answered by plunging into the Tyber, than by using the warm bath in the thermae, which became altogether a point of luxury, borrowed from the effeminate Asiatics, and tended to debilitate the fibres, already too much relaxed by the heat of the climate. True it is, they had baths of cold water for the summer; but, in general, they used them milk-warm, and often perfumed: they likewise indulged in vapour baths, in order to enjoy a pleasing relaxation, which they improved with odoriferous ointments. Of these baths some were mercenary, and some opened gratis. When Marcus Agrippa was Aedile, he opened one hundred and twenty private baths, for the use of the people. In the public baths, where money was taken, each person paid a quadrans, about the value of our halfpenny. But after the hour of bathing was past, centumque petuntur quadrantes, says Martial, a hundred quadrans were demanded.

Though there was no distinction in the places, between the first patrician, and the lowest plebeian, yet the nobility used their silver and gold plate for washing, eating, and drinking in the baths, together with towels of the finest linen. They likewise made use of the instrument called strigil, a kind of flesh-brush.

The circi and naumachia, if considered as buildings and artificial basons, are admirable; but, if examined as arcae, intended for horse and chariot races, and artificial seas for exhibiting naval engagements, they seem to prove, that the ancient Romans were but indifferently skilled and exercised, either in horsemanship, or naval engagements. The inclosure of the emperor Caracalla's circus is still standing, and scarce affords breathing room for an English hunter. The Circus Maximus, by far the largest in Rome, was not so long as the Mall; and St. James's park would make a much more ample and convenient scene for those diversions, This circus was but three hundred yards in breadth, and a great part of it was taken up by spina, or middle space, adorned with temples, and two great obelisks; as well as by the canal made by the order of Julius Caesar, to contain crocodiles, and other aquatic animals, which were killed occasionally. This canal was so large, that Heliogabalus, having filled it with excellent wine, exhibited naval engagements in it for the amusement of the people. It surrounded three sides of the square, so that the whole extent of the race did not much exceed an English mile; and, when Probus was at the expence of filling the plain of it with fir-trees, to form a wood, for the chace of wild beasts, this forest was scarce more extensive than the plantation in St. James's park, on the South side of the canals.

The Roman emperors seemed more disposed to elevate and surprise, than to conduct the public diversions, according to the rules of reason and propriety. One would imagine it was with that view, they instituted their naumachia, or naval engagements, performed by half a dozen small gallies of a side, in an artificial bason of fresh water. These gallies were not so large as fishing smacks, for they were moved by two, three, and four oars on a side, according to their different rates, biremes, triremes, and quadriremes. Some antiquarians, indeed, believe the Roman gallies had different tires, or decks of oars; but this notion is quite contrary to all the figures of them, preserved on ancient coins and medals. Suetonius, in the reign of Domitian, speaks of this emperor giving a mock sea-engagement, in a lake formed on purpose, in the Tyber; the vessels of which were nearly large enough for actual service. Yet, this artificial lake was not larger than the piece of water in Hyde-park. How would it sound in the ears of a British sailor, that a mock engagement, between two squadrons of men of war, would be exhibited on such a day, on the Serpentine river! Or that the ships of the line, taken from the enemy, would be carried in procession, from Hydepark corner to Tower wharf. Certain it is, that Lucallus, in one of his triumphs, had one hundred and ten ships of war carried through the streets of Rome. Nothing can give a more contemptible idea of their naval power, than this testimony of their historians, that their seamen were formed by exercising small row-boats, in an enclosed pool of fresh water. Half-a-dozen English frigates, one may venture to affirm, would have been able to defeat both the contending fleets at the battle of Actium, which has been so much celebrated in the annals of antiquity, as an event that decided the fate of empire.

The common sewers were first made by order of Tarquinius Priscus, not so much with a view to cleanliness, as for subterranean drains to the Vilabrum, which was marshy; and, in order to carry off the stagnant water, which remained in the lower parts, after heavy rains. The different branches of their channels united at the Forum, from whence by the Cloaca maxima, their contents were conveyed into the Tyber. This great cloaca, was the work of Tarquinius Superbus. Other sewers were added by M. Cato, and V. Flaccus, censors. All these drains, having been choaked up and become ruinous, were cleared and restored by M. Agrippa, who likewise undermined the whole city with canals of the same kind, for carrying off the filth; he strengthened and enlarged the cloaca maxima, so as to make it capable of receiving a large cart loaded with hay, and directed seven streams of water into these subterraneous passages, in order to keep them always clean and open. If, notwithstanding all their conveniences, Vespasian was put to great expences in removing the ordure from the public streets; we may fairly conclude, that the ancient Romans were not more cleanly than the modern Italians.

Those who have real pleasure in contemplating the remains of antique, and the noblest specimens of modern, architecture, and who have an unwearied admiration of the charms of painting, may employ a full year with satisfaction in this city.

What is called a regular course with an antiquarian, generally takes up about six weeks; employing three hours a day; in that time, every thing worth seeing, in or near Rome, may be visited. But, after having made this course, says Moore, however distinctly every thing may have been explained by the antiquarian, if the traveller does not visit the most interesting again and again, and reflect on them at more leisure, his labour will be of little use; for the objects are so various, and those seen one day, so apt to be effaced or confounded with, those beheld on another, that he must carry away a very faint and indistinct recollection of any. Many travellers have experienced the truth of this observation.

One young gentleman, says Moore, who happened not to be violently smitten with the charms of virtù, and scorned to affect what he did not feel, thought that two or three hours a day, were rather too much time to bestow on a pursuit in which he felt no pleasure, and saw little utility. The only advantage which, in his opinion, the greatest part of us reaped from our six weeks tour, was, that we could say we had seen a great many fine things, which he had not seen. This was a superiority he could not brook, and which he resolved we should not long enjoy. Being fully convinced the business might, with a little exertion, be dispatched in a short space of time, he prevailed on a proper person to attend him; ordered a post chaise and four horses to be ready early in the morning; and, driving through churches, palaces, villas, and ruins, with all possible expedition, he fairly saw in two days, all that we had beheld during our crawling course of six weeks. I found afterwards, by the list he kept of what he had seen, that we had not the advantage of him in a single picture, or the most mutilated remnant of a statue.

Those travellers who cannot remain a considerable time at Rome, would do well to get a judicious list of the most interesting objects in architecture, sculpture, and painting; these they ought to visit frequently, and these only, by which means they will acquire a strong and distinct impression of what they have seen; instead of that transient and confused idea which a vast number of things viewed superficially, leave in the mind.

CHAP. V. Papal and other Palaces, with their Antique Statues, &c.

THE Pope has three superb palaces; that of the Campidaglio, or ancient capitol; the palace of the Vatican; and that of the Monte Cavallo.

The approach to the modern Campidaglio is very noble, and worthy of the genius of Michael Angelo, who was the architect. This building is raised on part of the ruins of the ancient capitol, and fronts St. Peter's church, with its back to the Forum and old Rome. There are very little remains of the old capitol, or temple of Jupiter Capitolinus, yet enough to make a Christian church. It had the denomination of Capitolinus, says Livy, from the head of a man, casually found here, in digging for the foundations of the famous temple of Jupiter. The capitol was the effect of a vow, made by Tarquinius Priscus, in the Sabine war. The structure stood on a high ridge, taking in four acres of ground. This temple was first consumed by fire in the Marian war, and then rebuilt by Scylla. This too was demolished in the Vitellian sedition. Vespasian undertook a third, which was burnt down about the time of his death. Domitian raised the last and most glorious of them all, in which the very gilding amounted to two millions and a quarter sterling; which immense expenditure, in that single article, gave Plutarch occasion to observe, that he was like Midas, desirous of turning every thing into gold.

The present building was erected in the pontificate of Gregory XIII. It is a large and magnificent palace, with two spacious wings, containing very grand apartments. At the bottom of the stairs are two Egyptian lions, which form two fountains; and, at the top, stand Castor and Pollux, holding their horses, both colossal, in white marble, and representing those heroes as they came express to Rome, with the news of the victory gained over the Tarquins. These two lions are, by some writers, called Sphinxes; so little is the dependance that can be put on the relation of travellers.

The two sphinxes of Basalte, at the bottom of the ascent, though excellent specimens of Egyptian sculpture, says Moore, engage little your attention. Warm with the glory of Rome, you cannot bestow a thought on the hieroglyphics of Egypt. On the other hand, Northall has an express note on this subject, and quotes two other authors in support of his assertion, that they are lions. So very contradictory in their testimony in this particular.

In the centre of the area, fronting the city, stands the famous equestrian bronze statue, of the Roman emperor Marcus Aurelius Antoninus Pius, which was erected to him by the senate and people of Rome. From this exalted station, the emperor seems to take a survey of the city; and, with his hand extended, to be now giving laws to Rome. It is esteemed the finest statue in the world, and was anciently in very high repute. The Romans boast much of this statue at present; and say, the Venetians offered as many sequins of gold for it, as could be inclosed in the belly of the horse, which was refused. What Carlo Maratti is reported to have said to the horse, may give some idea of the excellence of the sculpture. Why dost thou not walk? Hast thou forgot that thou art alive?

At the upper end of the area, says Moore, the eye is caught by a majestic female figure, in a sitting attitude, which, we are told, is a Roma triumphans, brought from Cori, one of the oldest towns of Latium. We view her, says the above writer, with all the warmth of fond enthusiasm, but we recollect she is no longer triumphant; we cast an indignant eye on St. Peter's, to which she also seems to look with indignation. Is there such another instance of the vicissitudes of human things; the proud mistress of the world under the dominion of a priest?

In the two wings of this modern palace, called the Campidaglio, the conservators of the city have apartments; their office is analagous to that of the ancient Aediles. In the main body, an Italian nobleman, appointed by the Pope, has his residence, with the title of Senator of Rome; the miserable representation of that senate, which gave laws to the world. The most defaced ruin, the most shapeless heap of antique rubbish in all Rome, cannot convey a feebler image of the building, to which they belonged, than this deputy of the Pope does of that august assembly.

The upper apartments, and galleries of this place, are filled with a surprising collection of antiquities; all the curious statues and pieces of antiquity, found in and throughout the neighbourhood of the city, having been brought here to the embellishment of the Campidaglio. An antiquarian cannot help being delighted with the chamber of the emperor, where on two rows of steps is displayed a long range of alabaster and marble busts, representing the ancient Roman emperors, and their consorts. There is also a very fine collection of Egyptian deities; each of them quite perfect. In the main building is the gaol for criminals. Near the capitol, is still seen the statue of Marforio. This is a colossal figure lying down, but without much merit, and remarkable, only, that against it are pasted the answers to those satyrical verses, stuck upon another antique statue, called Pasquino, from whence the term Pasquinade arose, so frequently given to scurrilous and abusive poems.

Among other curious antiques in the capitol, says Lady Millar, is a vase of fine bronze, fluted, and in shape somewhat like flower-pots, intended to ornament gardens. This was the favourite cup of Mithridates, king of Pontus, who always had it carried with his baggage, to his encampments, and constantly drank out of it Pompey took a like fancy to it, and had it brought to Rome, where it was borne in triumph. It holds more than six gallons; but seems of the most inconvenient shape imaginable for a drinking cup; no modern mouth could easily take the brim; the capacious jaws of a Polypheme, might, indeed, fill it well.

Here are also the feet, and one hand of a mutilated colossal statue of Apollo, supposed to have been forty-one feet high; the great toe measures thirty-seven inches round.

The superb palace, called the Vatican, is attached to St. Peter's church, and was for many years the residence of the pontiffs. But they have of late preferred Monte Cavallo as a drier and healthier situation. The Vatican, or Mons Vaticanus, owes its name to the answers of the Vates, or prophets, that used to be given here; or from the god Vaticanus; but it seems not to have been enclosed within the walls till the time of Aurelian. This hill was formerly famous for the sepulchre of Scipio Africanus, some remains of which are here still to be seen.

The Vatican is a palace extremely irregular, very lofty, and very spacious. It contains eleven thousand and five hundred apartments. No traveller can be supposed to have either opportunity, or inclination, to examine into the truth of this account, so that we must depend on the veracity of the Pope's officers and domestics, whose authority for what they advance, is the wooden model of this palace, which at present is not to be seen.

This palace having been built and enlarged at different times, there is no proportion or symmetry observed in its several parts; and, to avoid damaging the fine area before St. Peter's church, it has not so much as a portico in front.

The best painters of Italy have striven to display the utmost of their art, in the beautiful pictures that are every where to be seen in these apartments; and Raphael, especially, has done wonders. His master-piece, is a picture representing the history of Attila.

Exclusive of the paintings, the library and the antique statutes are the principal objects, meriting the attention of a traveller.

The Vatican library is the finest, and noblest in the world, being full of manuscripts in Hebrew, Greek, and other languages. Pope Sixtus V. caused it to be built from the very foundation, and spared no cost to enrich it with the best books; but, since his death, it has been augmented by the Heidelberg library, and that of Christina, queen of Sweden. It is generally divided into two parts, the public and private; the one is three hundred feet long, and sixty broad: the other consists of two rooms, into which admittance is not so easily obtained, because of the very scarce manuscripts contained there.

This library is so constructed, as to afford a very agreeable coup d'aeil at the entrance; but, the books being inclosed in presses, which are painted, deprives it entirely of the appearance of a library.

In this library stands a white and transparent column of oriental alabaster, about ten feet high, which is solid and beautifully fluted. Opposite to this pillar is a sarcophagus of white marble, and in it a winding-sheet made of linen, which readily catches fire, but does not consume thereby. This linen is secured by iron-work; and, in order to prove that it stands the fire, our Ciceroni, says Lady Millar, pulled one end of it through the iron, and set fire to it with a lighted bougie. It burnt fast, and presently extinguished of its own accord. The corner, which had endured the flame, appeared rather cleaner and whiter than the rest of the sheet, which was all the effect that the fire produced. There are painted, on large pilasters ranged in the middle of the library, those persons who were reputed to have been the inventors of letters in the ancient languages, with the letters which each are said to have invented, written under their pictures.

They told us, says Lady Millar, that the presses contained seventy thousand printed volumes, and forty thousand manuscripts. They shew a Greek testament, written in capitals, with the accents, nine hundred years old; several curious antique bibles in Hebrew, Syriac, Arabic, &c. an elegant Greek manuscript of the Acts of the Apostles, in gold letters, given by one of the Popes to Charlotte queen of Cyprus; and several others, with curious and high-finished miniatures. Among these is a Pliny, with the pictures of all the animals; a Virgil of the 5th century, written entirely in capitals, with the figures of the Trojans and Latins in their proper habits; a beautiful manuscript of Tasso, and a Dante, with miniatures at the top of each page descriptive of the subjects. Here are also carefully preserved, the original love-letters from King Henry VIII. to Anne Boleyn; and his treatise on the seven sacraments written against Luther; with his dedication, in his own hand-writing, to Pope Leo X.

In the middle of this palace is a spacious square, surrounded with orange-trees and antique statues, and therefore called, says Keysler, il giardino delle statue antiche. It is also called the Belvidere, on account of the glorious prospect seen from it. Here is that noble repository of antique sculpture, called the Clementine Museum; and the present Pope has fitted up a set of apartments, worthy them and him for their better reception. It is said to be the most superb assemblage of the finest statues in the whole world; there are eight in all.

The first remarkable object we meet with is, a large mutilated statue, possibly of Hercules, without head, hands, or feet; but, for the exquisite representation of the muscles, &c. preferred by Michael Angelo, to all the other remains of antiquity. This piece, which is commonly called il tronco di Belvidere, is inclosed with iron-work; and, according to Lancivi's account, was dug up in the Campo di Fiori. In the niche of a portico, surrounding a small open court, is the famous Apollo Belvidere, and the no less famous Laocoon; the former incomparably the finest single figure, and the latter the finest group in the world. Apollo is supposed to have just discharged his arrow at the Python: his attitude is beautiful, natural, and unaffected; his countenance composed and elegant; the workmanship of every part exquisite: he is longer from the middle downwards than nature, says Martyn; but this deviation, from the proportion of the human figure, adds greatly to his dignity; and, upon the whole, he has an unspeakable sublimity, that inspires admiration, awe, and reverence.

When the folding doors were thrown open, of the niche which conceals the statue of Apollo, says Lady Millar, I started back with surprize. Never did I see any sculpture come so near the life, nor animation express so much majesty and dignity. I was struck with awe. The beautiful proportions of the limbs, the grandeur and noble air diffused over the whole figure, his commanding aspect, blended with angelic sweetness, joined to the most perfect feature, made me almost fancy he breathed and was about to speak.

The point of view, says Sherlock, from whence is seen the most perfect union of the sublime and beautiful in nature, is from the top of Vesuvius. The point of view, from whence is seen the most perfect union of the sublime and beautiful in art, is in the court of the Apollo of Belvidere. From the former we see the mouth of the volcano; fields desolated by rivers of lava now frozen; a country of vineyards, of considerable extent, diversified by the most beautiful mixture of plains and hills; the city of Naples, the hill of Paufilippo, a number of islands scattered in a vast sea, &c. &c. In the court we see the Apollo, the Laocoon, the Antinous, and the celebrated torso of Hercules, called the torso of Michael Angelo, on account of the admiration which he had for this precious fragment. Here we see what the Greek nation was. Let me not be told of prejudice for the ancients, I have none; I only do justice to the merit of things, and it is very indifferent to me, says Sherlock, where they are found, or who are their authors. To be just, we must sometimes appear extravagant; when an object is transcendently beautiful, or great, suitable encouragement ought to be given to it. The pen of man cannot do justice to the poetry of Shakspeare, the genius of the King of Prussia, or the works of the Greeks. Many, I know, will condemn me for this last expression; but, I deny them to be judges; they will condemn me only, because they know not my subjects.

It is in the Belvidere that we see the superiority of the Greeks to all the nations of the world. The distance that is between the Apollo, the Laocoon, and all the best works of the French and the Italians, is so great, that it is almost ridiculous to name them together.

Let the young traveller, when he views the Apollo, recollect that what he sees has been a rude block of marble. The first step of the artist was to create the character of this god. Before, therefore, the marble was touched, the sculptor had made an effort of genius; and that effort of genius was so great, that all the men who have succeeded him to this moment, have never been able to make one like it. This eulogium, it may be said, is too strong; it is not an eulogium, it is a fact: if the fact be not true, name me a statue equal in invention. Is it the Susannah of Fiamingo, the Justice of Gulielmo della porta, the Santa Bibiena of Bernini, or is it the Moses of Michael Angelo? No man of sense will ever compare them. The Moses is not inferior to any Italian or French statue; but had we not seen the torso, from which it is evident that Michael Angelo took the original idea of his statue, we should never be astonished at the invention of that production. The invention of the Apollo astonishes all men, and astonishes them in proportion to the time, and attention with which they examine it.

The Apollo of Bernini is a fine statue; it appears indifferent, only because we compare it, often, imperceptibly with the Apollo of Belvidere. Neither is the Apollo of Bouchardon, an indifferent production; but compare the original French statue, with the copy of the Greek statue, in the gardens of Versailles, the difference is incredible; it is the difference between a man and a god. We cannot say what a heathen deity was; but we always feel, on viewing this statue, that it was something more than human.

When genius is unaccompanied by taste, it is often surprized at missing its effect; the character created, it remained for taste to chuse a moment to shew this divinity; that moment ought to be animating and interesting; it ought to be favourable to grace, majesty, and expression; and, it ought to be so chosen, that the disposition of the whole, and the distribution of each part of the statue, should seem to flow from it with simplicity and ease. The artist there has chosen the instant in which this god gives the sublimest proof of his divinity, by an act of benevolence, in destroying an enemy of mankind; it is the instant after he has shot his arrow at the serpent Python; the arrow discharged, he follows it with his eyes to observe its effect; the expression of each part of the body corresponds to that of the face; and, from an idea so simple, this Grecian has been able to form a work which has obtained the applauses of all men, and has made every artist despair.

When a perfect execution is added to genius and taste, man cannot then go farther. The finish of this Apollo is inconceivable, even to the most minute particulars; but the artist might almost have been excused the trouble of so perfectly completing his work; his conception is so sublime, and his distribution so happy, that they alone would have commanded the admiration of all men in all countries; and, a proof of this, is the homage every where paid to the casts of this breathing god.

The best way to give an idea of the superiority, of Greek execution, is to cite a fact. The Laocoon was found only with one arm; they wished to have another; several artists attempted it, and all failed. Michael Angelo, the boldest genius that Italy ever had, who conceived the idea of placing the Pantheon in the air, and who made the dome of St. Peter's on the same dimensions, thought that he could succeed in it; and, after having worked at it for two years, abashed and despairing, be broke his work to pieces. Gulielmo della Porta, whose superb mausoleum, in St. Peter's, shews, that he was an artist of the first rank, said, that it was impossible to make it in marble, but that he would make it in clay; and he made the right-arm in clay, as we see it at present; an incontestible proof of the unattainable perfection of the Greek execution.

I allow it, says Sherlock, to be a bad proof of our being in the right, that a celebrated man is of our opinion; but, I think every reasonable being should well examine, before he determines against a judgment so solid as that of Poussin, and a genius so bright as that of Montesquieu: the former studied incessantly the best works, ancient and modern, on which this was his decision: "Raphael, compared with the moderns, is an angel; compared with the ancients, he is an ass." Compare the most beautiful figure of Raphael, detached, with the Apollo, and his finest group with the Laocoon, and judge for yourself.

France has no man who does her more honour in foreign countries, or who will do her more with posterity than Montesquieu; it is well known that he made some stay in Italy, and that he did not view objects like a superficial observer: this was his idea with regard to the Greeks; "Taste, and the arts have been carried by them to such a height, that to think to surpass them, will be always not to know them."

The Laocoon astonishes and terrifies. There is not a feature, or muscle, which does not express the deepest anguish. Laocoon is represented in the greatest agony, and with his eyes lifted up to heaven. Near him are his two sons, with the serpents turned about them, whom Virgil represents at some distance from the father, and expiring when he came to their relief. The youngest son is fallen down in the agonies of death; the other is not yet hurt, and looking toward his father, wishing to help him, and at the same time wanting help himself. The principle figure, viz. the father, has lost the right-arm, and that of plaster or clay, which hath been substituted in its room, is not to be compared to the other parts of the statue, either for colour or workmanship; even Michael Angelo himself, being ordered to execute another arm for this statue, is said, designedly, never to have put the finishing hand to it.

For me, says Moore, to attempt a description of the fine specimens of antique sculpture in the Vatican, which have been described a thousand times, and imitated as often, without once having justice done them, would be equally vain and superfluous. I shall, therefore, confine myself to a very few observations. The most insensible of mankind must be struck with horror at sight of the Laocoon. On one of my visits to the Vatican, I was accompanied by two persons who had never been there before; one of them was accused of being perfectly callous to every thing which did not immediately touch his own person; the other is a worthy good man: the first, after staring for some time with marks of terror at the groupe, at length recovered himself; exclaiming with a laugh,—"Egad, I was afraid these d—d serpents would have left the fellows they are devouring, and made a snap at me; but I am happy to recollect they are of marble."— "I thank you, Sir, most heartily," said the other, for putting me in mind of that circumstance; till you mentioned it, I was in agony for those two youths."

Nothing can be conceived more admirably executed, than this affecting groupe; in all probability, it never would have entered into my imagination that it could have been in any respect improved. But, Mr. Locke, the famous sculptor, it seems has observed, after mentioning the execution of this piece in the highest terms of praise, that, had the figure of Laocoon been alone, it would have been perfect. As a man suffering the most excruciating bodily pain with becoming fortitude, it admits of no improvement; his proportions, his form, his action, his expression, are exquisite. But, when his sons appear, he is no longer an insulated suffering individual; who, when he has met pain and death with dignity, has done all that could be expected from man; he commences father, and a much wider field is opened to the artist. We expect the deepest pathos, in the exhibition of the sublimest character, that art can offer to the contemplation of the human mind; a father forgetting pain, and instant death, to save his children. This sublime and pathetic the artist did not see, or despaired of attaining. Laocoon's sufferings are merely corporal; he is deaf to the cries of his agonizing children, who are calling on him for assistance. But, had he been throwing a look of anguish on his sons, had he seemed to have forgotten his own sufferings in theirs, he would have commanded the sympathy of the spectator in a much higher degree. On the whole, Mr. Locke is of opinion, that the execution of this groupe is perfect, but that the conception is not equal to the execution. Such are Mr. Locke's sentiments; we have only to remark, whether a sudden and instantaneous unexpected pain of the most excruciating kind, possible to be conceived for the human mind to suffer, does not destroy every other sentiment.

Reflecting on the dreadful condition of three persons, entangled in the horrid twinings of serpents, and, after contemplating the varied anguish, so strongly expressed in their countenances, it is a relief to turn the eye to the heavenly figure of the Apollo. To form an adequate idea of the beauty of this statue, it is absolutely necessary to have seen it. With all the advantages of colour and life, the human form never appeared so beautiful; and, we can never sufficiently admire the artist, who has endowed marble with a finer expression of grace, dignity, and understanding, than ever were seen in living figures.

The admired statue of Antinous is in the same court. Nothing can be more light, elegant, and easy; the proportions are exact, and the execution perfect. It is an exquisite representation of the most beautiful youth that ever lived.

The statue of the Apollo represents something superior; and the emotions it excites are all of the sublime cast.

Monte cavallo, the Pope's summer palace, on the Quirinal hill, has its name from two colossal statues, with each a horse, which they formerly held by the bridle. They bear the name of Phidias and Praxiteles; but, whoever was the sculptor, they are certainly Grecian, and much the most pleasing colossal statues in Rome. That which is ascribed to Phidias is the best. The horses have great spirit, but their necks are too thick, and their heads too little. The bridles are lost. Constantine the Great, is said to have brought them out of Greece, and to have placed them in his baths on the Quirinal mount. The figures, in both, have been supposed to represent Alexander and Bucephalus.

Over the doors of the palace is a balcony, supported by two Ionic pillars, from whence the Pope, on solemn occasions, gives his benediction to the people. This palace, from the salubrity of the air, and its fine prospect over a large part of the city of Rome, is preferred by the popes, as a residence to the two former palaces. The building is round a large court, which is surrounded by a portico. A wide double stair-case conducts to the great hall.

The gardens belonging to this palace are large, and laid out in good taste, but not taken care of as they deserve. They are surrounded with very lofty cypress-trees, and laurels, with some hedges of myrtles, and are about a mile in circuit. A delightful laurel-grove leads from hence to a lower garden, where the water-works are very surprising. Some, by the means of organs, imitate the sound of trumpets and kettle-drums; others, the explosion of granadoes and rockets.

At one angle of the large garden, the Pope has built two elegant apartments for his particular retirement, and furnished them after the English taste, even to the most minute articles. This building is called the coffee-house.

The palaces of Rome line the streets and squares, which thus owe their greatest ornament to these vast edifices. The architecture is good in very few; but, in many, the prodigious extent, united to a magnificence of decoration, is striking: such are the Barberini, Borghese, Bracciano, Altieri, and Colonna palaces. In the interior distribution, magnificence is the leading feature, to which convenience often gives place. Smollett says, he was told there were above three hundred palaces in Rome; but that, in fact, their number did not exceed fourscore; and, so far from there being scarce a Roman prince, whose revenue did not exceed fifty thousand pounds; that he scarce found six individuals who had ten thousand pounds.

Of the principal of these palaces we shall give a summary view. The Altieri palace is one of the largest in Rome. It is plain on the outside, and a remarkably good piece of brick-work. The staircase is grand. The library of Clement X. in this palace, is rich in manuscripts, medals, &c. The princess's apartments consist of seven noble rooms well furnished. In the bedchamber, of the Prince Gasper Altieri, is the chariot of the sun in fresco, by F. Chiari; and the cieling, of the room adjoining to it, was painted by Carlo Maratti. The cardinal's bed of state is valued at thirty thousand crowns. Here is also shewn an octangular speculum of rock crystal, ten inches long, and six broad, in a frame of gold set with amethysts, emeralds, sapphires, topazes, and diamonds; the whole weighs twelve pounds, and is by some estimated at fifteen thousand pounds.

The Barberini palace is exceeded only by the Vatican, and contains four thousand rooms or apartments. The two main staircases are extremely grand; and, on one of them is a very large antique lion, much admired for the excellence of the workmanship. This palace resembles two or three joined together; and, contiguous to it, is a very large garden, ornamented with fountains, statues, &c. The collection of fine pictures, antiques, and other curiosities in this palace, is prodigious. The library is in the upper story, one hundred and ninety-seven steps leading up to it; they pretend that there are sixty thousand volumes of printed books, and nine thousand manuscripts. The great room is one hundred feet long, thirty-four broad, and twenty high; with a covered cieling. There is a cabinet of medals, antique gems, bronzes, &c. The jewels of this family, as is the custom with all the great and princely families in Italy, are kept in a large cabinet, and form a kind of regalia. Here is an astonishing quantity of precious stones and pearls. The jewels the duchess wears are magnificent. The diamonds are of a much larger size than any in England, except those belonging to the crown; and there are a vast number of large pearls, of the finest water, and most exact formation.

The celebrated Borghese palace is very bad architecture, both within and without; a vast extent of front without any break, order, or elegance. It is all of brick, stuccoed. The great court has double porticos, supported by an hundred granite columns. In this palace are seventeen hundred original pictures, which are reckoned worth several millions of money.

As this palace exceeds any other in Rome, for paintings, &c. it is surprising to see so much mean furniture, especially the chairs and seats, amidst so much splendor and magnificence.

The palace of Prince Odiscalchi, was, formerly, for paintings and statues, one of the most remarkable in Rome; but, at present, the front of it, by Bernini, is the only thing worth observing. The finest pieces by Corregio and Paul Veronese, as likewise all that belonged to Queen Christina's collection, were sold to the Duke of Orleans, regent of France.

The Colonna palace, fronting to the square of the twelve apostles, is of great extent; and the apartments are magnificent, and handsomely fitted up. They are full of pictures by the best masters. The gallery is one of the finest and richest in Europe, one hundred and thirty-nine feet long, thirty-four broad, and seventy high, and has some capital paintings. Here is a cabinet, studded with precious stones, which belonged to King Charles I. and was sold by Cromwell to Cardinal Mazarine, whose niece married into the Colonna family. Among other expensive furniture is a clock, shewing the hour of the day, the month, year, &c. which is wound up but once a year. Here is also a bed finely gilt, and made in the form of a shell, drawn by four sea-horses, like Neptune's triumphal car. This was the bed in which Maria Marcini, cardinal Mazarine's niece, lay in of her first child. This lady was famous for the passion which Lewis XIV. entertained for her. The constable Colonna's stables are inferior to none in Rome, and well stocked with Spanish, Neapolitan and Barbary horses.

The Corsini is a noble palace, without architecture; twenty-two windows in front, a fine suite of rooms, and a large garden, part of which is in the Janiculeum, and commands one of the noblest views in Rome. The library is well disposed and public. It consists of four rooms, twenty-four feet square, and sixteen high; in one of which is a large collection of prints and drawings; three others for new books, and a gallery seventy feet by twenty.

The Farnese palace, belonging to the king of the two Sicilies, is the most superb in Rome. It was chiefly built by Michael Angelo. In the court are three orders, Doric, Ionic, and Corinthian, with open arcades round it.

In the apartments, of this now deserted palace, are some good statues and busts: but its great ornament is the gallery, painted in fresco, by A. Caracci. The beauty of this palace is not viewed without concern; for not only the famous cube, but several other ornaments, have been brought here from Vespasian's theatre, to the great detriment of that incomparable structure. In the court are several ancient statues of a large size, viz. a gladiator, Flora, and two statues of Hercules, exactly resembling each other, but not equally well cut. That on the left-hand is the Farnesian Hercules, and is the work of Glycon, an Athenian, as appears from the inscription. The statue of Flora near it, is mutilated; but, for the fineness of the drapery, few of the ancient pieces can be compared with it. The Toro Farnesian is also much admired. The subject of this piece is, Amphion and Zethus tying Dirce by the hair to the tail of a bull, in revenge for her having robbed her mother Antiope, of their father's love. Though the figures are larger than life, it is said to be one entire piece of marble. According to Marlyn, these three statues have been very recently removed to Naples.

The Farnesian Hercules, remarks Moore, has been long admired as an exquisite model of masculine strength; yet, admirable as it is, it does not please all the world. The women, in particular, find something unsatisfactory, and even odious in this figure; which, however majestic, is deficient in the charms most agreeable to them; and which might have been expected in the son of Jupiter, and the beauteous Alcmene. A lady, adds Moore, whom I accompanied to the Farnese palace, turned away from it with disgust. I could not imagine what had shocked her. She told me, after recollection, that she could not bear the stern severity of his countenance; that his large brawny limbs, and the club with which he was armed, gave him more the appearance of one of those giants, that, according to the old romances, carried away virgins, and shut them up in gloomy castles, than the gallant Hercules, the lover of Omphale. Finally, the lady declared, that she was convinced this statue could not be a just representation of Hercules; for it was not in the nature of things, that a man so formed could ever have been a reliever of distressed damsels.

Without such powerful supports as that of the fair sex, I should not have exposed myself to the resentment of connoisseurs, by venturing to assert, that the Farnese Hercules is faulty both in form and attitude: the former is too wieldy for active exertion, and the latter exhibits vigour exhausted. A resting attitude is not the most proper, in which the all-conquering god of strength could be represented. Rest implies fatigue; and fatigue, strength exhausted A reposing Hercules is almost a contradiction. Invincible activity, and inexhaustible strength are his characteristics.

Next to Hercules, is a most beautiful statue of Flora. The great advantage, remarks Moore, which the ancient artists had in attending the exercises of the gymnasia, has been repeatedly urged as the reason of their superiority over the moderns in sculpture. We are told that, besides the usual exercises of the gymnasia, all those who proposed to contend at the Olympic games, were obliged by the regulations to prepare themselves, by exercising publickly for a year; and the statuaries and painters constantly attended on the arena, where they beheld the most graceful of the Grecian youths employed in these sports, in which the power of every muscle was exerted; and, where the human form appeared in an infinite variety of attitudes. By constant attendance at such a school, the artists are supposed to have acquired a more animated, true, and graceful style, than can possibly be caught from viewing the tame, mercenary models exhibited in our academies.

On the other hand it is asserted, that the artist, who formed the Farnesian Flora, could not have improved his work, or derived any of its excellencies from the circumstances above enumerated; because, the figure is in a standing posture, and cloathed. In the light easy flow of the drapery, the contour of the body, being as distinctly perceptible, as if the statue was naked, the chief merit of this statue is thought to consist. But this reasoning does not seem just; for the daily opportunities which the antient artists had of seeing naked figures, in every variety of action and attitude, must have given them advantages over the moderns, in forming even drapery figures. At Sparta, the women, upon particular occasions, danced naked. In their own families, they were seen every day clothed in light draperies; and, so secondary was every consideration, even that of decency, to art, that the prettiest women of Agrigentum, it is recorded, were called upon by the legislature, without distinction, to shew themselves naked to a painter, to enable him to paint a Venus. Whilst the moderns, therefore, must acknowledge their inferiority to the ancients in the art of sculpture; they may be allowed merit, on account of the cause, to which it seems in some measure, at least, to be owing.

As prince Giustiniani's palace is one of the most remarkable for excellent paintings, so it exceeds any in Rome for fine statues. The second story consists of a suite of eleven spacious apartments; through all which is a noble vista, superior to any of that kind in Rome. A particular description of the original paintings, which are no less than seven hundred, and the antique monuments which are nineteen hundred, five hundred of which are statues, occupy two volumes folio.

On the spot where this palace stands were, anciently, the baths of Nero and Severus; so that, at laying the new foundation, granates, basalte, and other kinds of fine marbles, with a great number of statues, busts and bas-reliefs, were found there, which are noble ornaments to the palace.

Some idea of the extent of the Pamfili palace may be formed, and which is equally large and magnificent; when our readers are informed, that upwards of four thousand persons were entertained in it; when Prince Doria, the present possessor, received the arch-duke and archduchess of Austria, in the year 1780. There are no less than eighteen palaces belonging to this family, seven of which are in Rome.

CHAP VI. Churches, Colleges, Hospitals, and general Remarks.

IF a city is entitled to the appellation of holy, from the number of its churches, Rome unquestionably merits it. They reckon up no less than three hundred and thirty churches; and, there are few of them in which the architecture does not merit commendation. Of these we shall only notice two or three of the principal; which, exclusive of the paintings and architecture, have some other peculiarities to interest the reader. It is not only the architecture, but the prodigious number of paintings, by the most capital masters, which render so many of the churches in Rome, objects of curiosity to admirers of the arts. In some of them a profusion of riches dazzle the beholder.

Who, says Abbé Coyer, without considering their architecture, can calculate all the riches accumulated in their churches? The chapel alone of S. Ignatius, in the church dedicated to our Saviour, would purchase a whole province. I speak not of its pillars of verd antique, its niches of oriental alabaster, its columns of lapis lazuli, and the gilded bronze, which every where dazzles the eyes; I consider only the silver, the gold, and the precious stones, which are worked up with so much taste.

The principal of these churches, is that of St. John de Lateran; which, though inferior to St. Peter's in dimensions and architecture, is the metropolitan church in Rome. It was built by Constantine, and stiled mater orbis & urbis. The emperors formerly received their crowns in this church; and here, the Pope still takes possession of his dignity, and confers all ecclesiastical benefices. The fabric of this church has been much enlarged, since the time of Constantine, and is very beautiful. It has five doors, one of which is called the 'holy door,' being opened only in the jubilee year. The number of its precious shrines, and other valuable ornaments, is very great; but nothing is more valued than a plain tin chalice, which is said to have been made use of by S. Peter. The most valuable curiosity in this church, is the coffin of Helena, mother to Constantine the Great, made of a single piece of porphyry, with large bas-reliefs, representing horsemen, and other figures. This is even larger than the supposed shrine of Bacchus, in St. Constantin's church, but is damaged in several places. It was dug up in the Via Labicana, about three miles from Rome.

Here are also the famous chairs, or stools, called stellae stercoratoriae, or exploratoriae. They are two in number, and between them is a chair of white marble, elevated something above them; both are of porphyry. Before I had seen them, says Keysler, I was assured they were only the common chairs used by the ancient Romans, in which a hole had been made and lined with wood. But, in viewing them, they did not seem at all adapted for the purpose of night stools; the aperture not being of a sufficient size, and incommodiously placed. It is certain, however, that the popes, at their taking possession of the Lateran, were formerly placed on these stools, or chairs; this the popish writers cannot deny; and Mabillon makes it an act of humility, perfectly agreeable to the words which are sung at this ceremony: "He raises the needy from the dust, and the poor from the dunghill, that he may sit with princes, and possess a throne of glory." Hence this chair came to be called stella stercoraria.

The indecent examination of the Pope's sex, about which some writers have been very jocose, may, perhaps, be justly exploded as fabulous; but, it is not a protestant fable; Roman Catholic writers having first set it on foot, and introduced it into their satyres: as, for instance, the following epigram, among many others of the same kind, by Marcelli, on the Cibo family.

Quid quaeris testes, sit mas an faemina Cibo?

Respice natorum pignora certa gregem.

"Why such the proofs of Cibo's sex? See the number of his children."

The whole history, or fable of pope Joan, passed current before Luther was born; as is evident from the ancient manuscripts of Anastasius, M. Polonus, and others. In a history of modern Rome, written by one Tentzell, and very scarce, is the following passage respecting that lady, which was purloined from the Vatican library. "In the papal succession, it appears, that John, an Englishman, succeeded Leo, and held the pontificate two years, five months, and four days, when there was a vacancy of a month, in the papal chair. This pope is affirmed to have been a woman; who, being disguised like a young man, was carried by her gallant to Athens, and made such a progress in all the sciences, that she publickly read lectures at Rome for three years, the greatest masters being among her auditors; nor was there any equal to her, for parts and learning, in that city. At length, she rose to such a pitch of reputation, as to be unanimously chosen pope; but, during her pontificate, she unhappily conceived by her former gallant; and, being ignorant of the time of her delivery, she fell in labour as she was returning from St. Peters to the Lateran, and was delivered between the Colisaeum and St. Clement's church, where she is said to have expired. The Pope's custom of turning aside when he passes this way, is said to be done, in order to express his detestation of this affair; neither is she set down in the list of popes, on account of her sex.

The Corsini chapel, belonging to this church, is probably the most elegant in Europe, both for its proportions, and the disposition of the marbles.

The Scala Santa is opposite to this church; it consists of twenty-eight marble steps, said to be brought from Pilate's palace at Jerusalem; and, in the spacious area stands a great Egyptian obelisk.

St. Maria Maggiore, is so called from being the largest of the thirty churches, which are dedicated to the Virgin Mary, in this city. The nave of this church is supported by forty antique columns of Greek marble; they are Ionic, and belonged to the temple of Juno Lucina. The roof is flat, and gilt with the first gold which came from Peru. This church is also called St. Mary ad praesepe, from its containing the manger, in which our Saviour is said to have been laid, together with the swaddling clothes he wore, and some straw on which he was placed.

In one of the chapels is a profusion of rich marbles, opaque precious stones, and other magnificent ornaments.

Under the church of St. Sebastian, the portico of which is supported by antique granite columns, are the catacombs. They are very narrow, in comparison with those at Naples, but are commonly said to extend forty miles. They were, originally, quarries of puzzolana, then served for burial places of the heathens, and afterwards of the christians.

Under the church of St. Giuseppe is an ancient Roman prison, built by Tullus Hostilius, and enlarged by Ancus Martius; it is called the prison of St. Peter, who is said to have been here. It has a fine spring, which they tell you issued miraculously, to enable the apostles to baptize the goaler, and forty-seven other persons. A staircase near leads down to the dungeon, from the church; and there is a hole into another dungeon, where Jugurtha ended his days.

St. Maria degli angeli is the noblest church in Rome, next to St. Peter's; it was made out of Dioclesian's thermoe, by Michael Angelo. It was the room in which the youths performed their exercises in bad weather.

St. Maria sopra Minerva, so called from being built where there was a temple decicated to Minerva, by Pompey.

In the church of St. Maria della Pieta, is an epitaph, the thought of which has something uncommon in it.

Fleres, si scires unum, tua tempora, mensem;

Rides cum non fit forsitan una dies.

"You would weep, if you knew that one month would put a period to your existence; and yet you laugh, though not certain of a day."

Il fagro monte della pietà was instituted to prevent the extortions of usurers, by which the distresses of the poor, in other countries, are so extremely aggravated. Here any one receives two-thirds of the value of his pledge; and, if it does not exceed thirty crowns, he pays no interest; but, if above that sum, only two per cent. are required. In case eighteen months should elapse before the pledge be redeemed, it is publicly sold, and the overplus reserved for the owner of the pledge. This sale, however, may be prevented by renewing the obligation.

The church of St. Onofrio is not without some good paintings; but what chiefly draws a foreigner hither, is the fine view which this church affords all over the city of Rome. The remains of the celebrated poet Torquato Tasso lie interred here.

Those who are fond of horses may meet with great entertainment at St. Anthony's church, on the 17th of January; that day being the festival of the saint, when all the horses, mules, &c. belonging to the Pope, cardinals, prelates, princes, and other great men, are drawn up before the church door, where a priest sprinkles them with holy water. If the horses and mules receive no benefit from this practice, the monks, at least, find the sweets of it. At Sienna, the horses which are to run the race on the assumption of the Virgin Mary, are, the day before, blessed in the same manner with holy water, at the door of the cathedral; and the officiating priest has, at least a wax candle, as an offering for every horse. This custom is supposed to have taken its rise from the sprinkling of the horses at the Circensian games.

On the altar of the church of St. Pietro, in Montorio, is the most celebrated picture, at present known in the whole world; it is the transfiguration of Christ on Mount Tabor, and was the last work of Raphael's admirable pencil. No monumental inscription having been thought sufficient to express the praise of that great artist; this picture was set up, near his remains, as the most affecting and strongest proof of the irreparable loss the world sustained, by his premature exit; for he died in the thirty-seventh year of his age.

This transfiguration, says Sherlock, is a school of painting. If the art was lost, and this picture remained, it would be alone sufficient to form painters. All the parts of painting are united in it; the most exact drawing, the most sensible and picturesque disposition, a perfect harmony of colouring, and a sublimity in the upper part of the picture, which transports the spectator as much as the groupes below interest him. Raphael was commanded to paint this subject; and, it is in itself rather barren. A god, cloathed in splendor, and illuminated by the rays of his glory, presents, of itself, so sublime an idea, that the artist could not miss it. But it is the only idea that the subject offers. The painter was forced to create the rest. It is the property of genius, said Leonardo di Vinci, to draw a grand production from a poor subject; as it is that of mediocrity, to form a trifling work upon a rich ground. This sentence, and the transfiguration, determine the rank of Raphael.

The studies of the belles-lettres, and antiquities, are more followed at Rome than the sciences. La sapienza is the principal of the colleges; and, as it were, the centre of the university. There are eight professors of theology, six of civil and canon law, eight of medicine, five of philosophy, one of belles-lettres, and four of the Eastern and Greek languages.

The college of La Propaganda was founded by Gregory XV. There are several professors belonging to it, who give lectures on theology, philosophy, the belles-lettres, and the oriental languages, to the young ecclesiastics, who are designed for foreign mission. The Roman college is a vast, heavy edifice, built by Gregory XIII. This is dedicated to the education of youth, as are also the Clementine and Nazarene colleges.

For the encouragement of learning, there are also many public libraries in Rome. That of the Vatican is universally known. The other principal ones are in the Altieri, Albani, Barberini, Borghese, Corsini, Ghizi, Imperiali, and Pamfili palaces; at the Sapienza, Propaganda, and Roman colleges; in the convents of St. Agostino, Gesu, St. Maria sopra Minerva, &c. Most religious houses of note have, likewise, considerable libraries, which are easily accessible.

It appears that there are very few students in these universities, the Jesuits having every where monopolized the education of youth in the ecclesiastical states.

Rome is full of those foundations, for which religion lays opulence under contribution; such are the conservatories, some of which are for orphans, some for children brought thither by their parents, and not seldom taken from them when their poverty endangers their morals; there are also hours of reformation for children who are disobedient, or taking bad courses; and other for wives, under, the misfortune of having bad husbands. There are no less than thirty hospitals, says Keysler, for the relief of the sick and poor in the city of Rome, but none of them equal the Santo Spirito; in which there are, generally, above a thousand patients, and all well taken care of.

Forty nurses are constantly kept in pay, to take care of the infants; which every night are put into the machines at the foundling hospitals. Besides these, above two thousand nurses, in the city and neighbouring villages, have wages for nursing the children till they are four or five years old; and then the boys are brought to the hospital to be instructed in handicraft trades, or polite arts, according to their different genius, when they are provided with all necessaries, till they are able to maintain themselves. The girls, who generally exceed five hundred in number, are educated under the inspection of a convent of nuns, till they are fit for the convent, or marriageable. If the latter be their choice, they have a portion of a hundred crowns. This hospital, though part of its revenues has been curtailed by some of the popes, to endow other charities which stood in need of its assistance, has still an annual income of five and twenty thousand pounds sterling; besides the produce arising from the circulation of the money, in the bank belonging to it.

The hospital of St. Michael is another admirable foundation for bringing up poor orphans, who are allowed to chuse their trade; and, when they are twenty years old, and able to maintain themselves, they are dismissed from the house, new cloathed from head to foot, with five and twenty crowns in their pockets. Into this hospital are also admitted, old disabled servants, and others incapable, by age and infirmities, of earning their bread. In the chapel, the two sexes are separated from each other by an iron grate; it being Lent, says Keysler, when I visited this hospital, their food consisted of a piece of dried fish, some chesnuts, and bread, with a can of wine.

Every country in Europe, where the Roman Catholic religion is professed, has likewise its hospital for pilgrims, in Rome; but; the hospital of the Trinity, receives all nations indiscriminately; and has frequently entertained fifteen thousand pilgrims under its roof at once. The manner of receiving them is as follows: the pilgrims, as soon as they arrive, present themselves before the officers of the house; and, on producing their certificates, their names are entered in the books of the hospital, and each person receives a medal, or ticket of admission. They are then led into a large chamber; where a priest, having said prayers, washes all their feet, and dresses the wounds of those, whose feet have been hurt, or blistered by travelling; this done, they are led into the refectory; and, having supped, are shewn into the common dormitory, where each individual has his bed assigned him.

The Pazzarella, or hospital for lunatics, very much resembles Bedlam in its institution; except that this charity is more extensive, and provides for people of all nations, who are disordered in their intellects, as appears from two English quakers, who were merchants in Italy, and had learnt the Italian language. These quakers, it seems, from an excess of zeal, looked upon it as meritorious, to endeavour to make a convert of the Pope to quakerism; they, accordingly, applied to his domestics for an audience; nor did they make any secret of their business with his Holiness, which they told in their usual cant terms and jargon. At first, they were laughed at, as people disposed to be merry; but, repeatedly continuing their solicitations with great earnestness, they were looked upon as madmen; and the Pope's officers, out of charity, sent them to the Pazzarella, as it is called. The grvernor of the house, thinking their zeal and transports to be certain indications of a disordered brain, shut them in a dungeon, and treated them with great rigour. The physicians also purged them most violently, repeating and strengthening their doses, as they observed their ravings encrease; but, all proving ineffectual, they were neglected as persons incurable, and permitted to walk about the hospital with the harmless lunatics, where they were seen by some English gentlemen, who, being informed for what reason they were confined, procured their release, and had them shipped off for England.

But, to return to the charitable institutions; almost every company of artisans have their hospital, where they provide for such of their fraternity as are infirm, or otherwise distressed. In the church of the Twelve Apostles, are annually chosen twelve noblemen, and one prelate; who make it their business to go into every corner of the city, in search of poor men ashamed to beg, and relieve their wants. Even the lawyers set apart one day in every week, to defend the causes of the poor, gratis.

CHAP. VII. Environs of Rome.

THE warmth of the climates necessarily makes the inhabitants fond of villas and gardens; where, in summer, they may retire for the benefit of fresh air. Of these there are ten or twelve, in the neighbourhood of the city, usually visited by strangers. From this we may judge what a task they undertake, who resolve to go through the whole; and what kind of an idea they are likely to carry away, who perform this task during a stay of a few months. Of these the villa Borghese ranks first; it is one of the finest spots in all Italy; and, as St. Peter's at Rome is the most superb church in the world; so this villa, for beauty, ornaments, and curiosities, may be said to exceed all other country seats in Italy, or elsewhere.

In short, remarks Smollet, these villas would make a complete academy for painting, and sculpture, especially for the study of ancient marbles; for, exclusive of the statues and busts in the garden, and the vast collection in the different apartments, almost the whole outside of the house is covered with curious pieces in basso, and alto relievo.

It stands at the distance of a quarter of a league from the Porta Pinciana, and is enclosed within a wall, of five Italian miles in compass; containing a variety of situations, high and low, which favour all the natural embellishments one would expect to meet with in a garden, and exhibit a diversity of noble views of the city and adjacent country. The part, says Lady Millar, is fine, and with a few alterations would be esteemed such even in England; the verdure is lively, and the trees old and well grown. To this part, the English are permitted by the Borghese family to repair twice a week, and play at cricket and foot-ball; we women, adds Lady Millar, go sometimes and see the sport, as do the Roman ladies, attended by their abbés, who form a brilliant body of spectators.

In the gardens are, at least, twenty beautiful walks; and all the vista's are terminated by statues and fountains. The espaliers consist of jessamine or orange-trees, myrtle, &c. In other parts of the garden are separate little parks for deers and hares, and a warren for rabbits. Here is also a large canal stocked with swans, and all kinds of aquatic fowls. In two large and lofty aviaries are to be seen all birds of the known feathered species; and the flower-garden exhibits the most beautiful flowers and remarkable vegetables.

At the entrance are the following curious regulations, relating to the garden of the Villa Borghese. "I, the keeper of the Villa Borghese, give notice, that whoever thou art, if thou art free, thou needest not fear any shackles of the law should restrain thee here; go where thou wilt, gather what thou pleasest, and stay or go when it is agreeable to thee. All thou seest, is rather for the entertainment of strangers than of the owner; who, mindful of the inestimable freedom of the golden age, banishes, from these tranquil mansions, laws invented in the iron age: let good manners be the only law to be observed here. But, shouldest thou wantonly and deliberately break the golden rule, that good breeding dictates; beware, left the provoked gardner should also break through the bounds of civility and friendship."

Of the curiosities contained in the palace, we shall confine ourselves to a few remarks on some of the most esteemed. The hermaphrodite, of which there are so many prints and models, is accounted by many, one of the finest pieces of sculpture in the world. The mattrass, upon which this fine figure reclines, is the work of Bernini, and nothing can be more admirably executed. Some critics say, he has performed his task too well, because the admiration of the spectator is divided between the statue and the mattrass. This, however, ought not to be imputed as a fault to that great artist; since he condescended to make it at all, it was his business to make it as perfect as possible. It is said, there was an artist at Versailles, in a different line, who attempted something of the same nature; he had exerted all his abilities in making a periwig for a celebrated preacher, who was to preach on a particular occasion before the court; and, he imagined he had succeeded to a miracle. "I'll be hanged," said he, to one of his companions, "if his Majesty, or any man of taste, will pay much attention to the sermon to-day."

Among the antiques, there is a centaur in marble, with a cupid mounted on his back. The latter has the cestus of Venus, and the ivy crown of Bacchus, in allusion to beauty and wine; he beats the centaur with his fist, and seems to kick with violence, to drive him along. The centaur throws back his head and eyes with a look of remorse, as if he were unwilling, though forced, to proceed. The execution of this groupe is admired by those who look upon it, merely as a jeu d'esprit; but it acquires additional merit, when considered as allegorical of men, hurried on by the violence of their passions, and lamenting their own weakness, while they find themselves unable to resist.

There is another figure which claims attention, more on account of the allegory than the sculpture. This is a small statue of Venus Cloacina, trampling on an impregnated uterus, and tearing the wings of Cupid. The allegory indicates, that prostitution is equally destructive of generation and love.

This villa is also enriched by one of the most animated statues in the world; and which, in the opinion many, comes nearest, and, in the judgment of some, equals the Apollo of the Vatican; this is the statue of the fighting gladiator. It is difficult, however, to compare two pieces whose merits are so different. The Apollo is full of grace, majesty, and conscious superiority; he has shot his arrow, and knows its success. There is, indeed, a strong expression of indignation which opens his lips, distends his nostrils, and contrasts his brows; but, it is the indignation of a superior being, who punishes, whilst he scorns the efforts of his enemy. The gladiator, on the contrary, full of fire and youthful courage, opposes an enemy he does not fear; but whom, it is evident, he thinks worthy of his utmost exertion; every limb, nerve, and sinew is in action; his ardent features indicate the strongest desire, the highest expectation; but not a perfect security of victory. His shape is elegant as well as nervous; expressive of agility as well as strength; and equally distant from the brawny strength of the Farnesian Hercules, and the effeminate softness of the Belvidere Antinous.

Though this fine figure generally goes by the name of the fighting gladiator, some antiquarians cannot allow, that ever it was intended to represent a person of that profession, but a victor at the Olympic games; and assert, that it is the identical statue made by order of the Athenian state, in honour of their countryman Chabrias; and, that it is precisely in the attitude which, according to Cornelius Nepos, that hero assumed when he repulsed the army of Agesilaus.

There are eight or ten of these villas in the outskirts of Rome, highly celebrated for their delightful prospects, their beautiful gardens, their superb collection of antique statues and paintings, by the greatest masters of the art; but, to enumerate them separately would be superfluous and tedious in the description.

Exclusive of these villas belonging to the Roman princes within the precincts, as it were, of the capital; there are several other places, at some small distance from Rome, which have been illustrious in antiquity, and therefore merit a more particular description. The principal of these are, Frescati, Tivoli, and Albano.

Frescati is about twelve miles East of Rome, and situated on, or near, the same spot where the ancient Tusculum stood, and derives its name from the arbours, or tabernacles, built by the inhabitants of Tusculum, when their city was demolished in 1191. This charming place is, at present, the summer residence of several persons of the first rank, who have not only splendid palaces and gardens here, but have taken advantage of this favourable situation, among hills, for making very grand water-works, such as would make a figure even at Versailles. Tusculum is often marked, in ancient history, as the scene of many memorable events; it was the birth-place of Cato the censor, the great grandfather of Cato of Utica; it was rendered illustrious by the celebrated villa of Cicero, to which he frequently retired, and where he composed those so justly admired philosophical dissertations. This place boasts likewise, of having given birth to Metastatio; unquestionably, the first poet in Italy. The town is built on the declivity of a hill, and commands a fine view of the country below, and of the many villas and gardens which clothe and beautify the brow of the mountain.

The principal villa belongs to the Borghese family, and is situated on Monte Dracone, a mile from the town; it is so called from the dragon borne by the family of Borghese in their arms. This house is reckoned one of the largest in Europe, and has a fine portico constructed by Vignoles.

The palace stands on an eminence, and at the end of a very beautiful avenue. At the entrance are the following ostentatious mottos.

Thessala quid Tempe, quid quaeris Adonidis hortos

Haec tibi pro cunctis Villa Draconis erit;

That is,

"Thessalian Tempe and Adonis' groves

No more shall charm, but yield to this recess."

And farther on,

Hesperidum nostris quantum viridaria cedunt,

Custos est tanto mitior ore Draco.

"Hesperian groves are far surpassed by these;

No monster guards this rural calm retreat."

Some idea may be formed of the largeness of this palace from the number of its windows, which are no less than three hundred and seventy-four; and, from one of them, the noble owner has a prospect of part of his own estate to the amount of fifteen thousand pounds sterling a year.

From the terrace is a most beautiful view of Rome, and the adjacent country, till the sea bounds the prospect on that side: villages, ruins, and the Lago Castilione, with mountains from another beautiful prospect; the tout ensemble is truly wonderful and delightful, uniting all the advantages of a near, with all the grandeur of an extensive, prospect.

Here we cannot omit the story of an unfortunate mother and daughter of the family of Cenci, whose portraits are shewn in one of these apartments. The father of the latter was such an abandoned wretch, that he could not refrain from acts of brutal, and even unnatural lust with his wife, in his daughter's presence, and made several violent attempts on her person also. To put a period to such indignities, she had recourse to a most desperate attempt, to which her father's horrid villany prompted her. She concealed two assassins in her chamber, who were to murder her father in his sleep; but, when the dreadful moment came, the two villains were seized with fear, or sudden remorse, and shewed a reluctance to perpetrate the murder. Upon this the daughter, in a transport of rage, snatched a stiletto from the hands of one of the assassins, and stabbed her father as he slept, who expired amidst a deluge of blood. This dreadful catastrophe happened in the time of Paul V. and the mother and brother being privy to the design, they were all three beheaded before the castle of S. Angelo. The Pope shewed them no other favour, notwithstanding they were of a noble family, than that of ordering some guns to be fired, at the time of their execution, from the castle of S. Angelo, as a signal for his Holiness to pronounce a benediction in their behalf. The daughter died with great resolution; and her youth and beauty drew a flood of tears from the spectators.

The villa Aldobrandini is also remarkable for its fine situation, extensive gardens, airy terraces, its grottos and water-works. These form a kind of theatre; and a brass globe, supported on the shoulders of Atlas, ejects water on all sides. Near this statue are a lion and a tyger fighting; and, the water issuing from the mouth and nostrils of the former, exactly imitates the snarling of that animal when enraged. The column of water, in the center of the fountain, rises to the height of seventy-four palmi, and is attended with a noise like the whizzing of sky-rockets. Here is also a Francis, or Polypheme, playing on one of the ancient pastoral pipes, and a Centaur blowing a horn, which is said to be heard four Italian miles. In an arched hall, is also to be seen Mount Parnassus, with Apollo, the Muses, and Pegasus; the music of the choir proceeds from an artificial cuckow, and an organ with a variety of stops, put in play by water, as is another place before the theatre. The keys of these instruments are moved by brass pins, fixed in a cylinder, which turns on its axis by means of a water-mill. Near Mount Parnassus stand the statues of Corinna and Sappho; and, on the walls, Apollo's chief adventures are painted in fresco. Over the door is this distich:

This curious saloon is paved with fine small stones curiously arranged; and, in the center of the pavement is a hole, over which a light globe, or ball, is kept in a perfect equilibrium, at the distance of a span from the floor, only by the impetus of the air, forced up by water through the hole. The cascade consists of sixty-five steps, and on both sides are tortoises, dolphins, and other aquatic animals, cut in stone, and spouting water at each other. In the garden, not far from the cascade, is a wilderness, with several shady, narrow walks in it.

The villa Conti is worth seeing, on account of its garden and water-works, and particularly for the ancient remains of eighteen vaulted buildings, said to have formed part of the menagerie of Lucullus.

The ruins of the ancient town of Tusculum are to be traced above a villa belonging to the Jesuits, called the grottos of Cicero; but, it is by no means certain that these vestiges made part of his villa.

Frescati is the see of a bishop, who is suffragan of Rome, and it is usually held by one of the six eldest cardinals. At present, it belongs to the cardinal of York, who passes the greatest part of his time in the duties and ceremonies of a religion, of whose truth he seems to have the fullest conviction.

Near the bottom of the eminence, on which Tivoli stands, are the ruins of the vast and magnificent villa, built by the Emperor Adrian. These remains cover a large extent of ground. Several country houses have been built upon them, and the greater number of the finest antiques in the Roman collections have been found here. Various authors agree, that this villa was in length three miles; and in breadth, a fifth of that space. Here still remain vestiges of colonades, temples, aqueducts, &c. On part of the gardens is built a religious house for the Jesuits; they are said to have been laid out, formerly, in the most beautiful representation of the Elysian fields, contrasted with the regions of Pluto. Much more may be said of this villa, even in its present ruined state; but, what it has been, may be gathered from a variety of ancient authors. Suffice it to say, that the utmost efforts of the arts and sciences were exhausted in the improvement of a spot, kind and beautiful by nature.

A wet and marshy piece of ground, which was partly under water, and had been an immense bason in front of this villa, is rented by a M. Hamilton, an ingenious English artist, who keeps a great number of men at work upon it, and has succeeded, so far as he has gone, in draining it, with great expence and labour. He very sensibly fixed on this spot, concluding, that many valuable antiques might have been thrown into the water, to preserve them from the barbarous fury of those who demolished this superb edifice; and has already found a great number of curious articles, which will yield him an ample indemnification.

Tivoli is about fifteen miles distant from Frescati, and nearly the same distance from Rome, and situated on a hill. It is the ancient Tibur, and said to have been built by the Greeks. The town itself is a wretched place, and made more disagreeable by a great number of forges. The inhabitants positively affirm, this little town to have been built six hundred and
SMALL CASCADE at TIVOLI.

forty years before the city of Rome; and round its arms still retain the ancient motto, superbum Tibur, "proud Tibur." The cathedral is built upon the the ruins of the temple of Hercules; but the most remarkable antiquity here is the temple of the Sibyl: the beautiful architecture, and fine proportions of this small edifice, strike the eye at first view; its form is most elegant, its sculpture perfect and peculiary graceful. The lines of beauty, so insisted upon by Hogarth, are to be traced in all the ornaments of this building. Its situation is on the brow of a hill; on one side appears the town, and in front the great cascade. This beautiful little temple has been so accurately described by Palladio, Vitruvius, and other architects, that it is surprising it has not been copied in some of the fine gardens in England. The hill, on which this temple stands, affords not only a charming prospect of the cascade, but of the spots where the seats of Horace and Catullus are supposed to have stood. The violence of the fall, or cataract, of the river Teverone, anciently the Anio, down the precipice, turns the water entirely to foam, and has considerably excavated the rocks beneath. About half a league farther up the hill, is another water-fall; but neither of them is to be compared to the cascade formed by the Rhine, near Schaffhausin, or of the Velino, in the district of Terni.

The cascade of Terni is formed by the fall of the river Velino, which Virgil mentions in the seventh Aeneid, Rosea rura Velini. The channel of this river lies very high, and is shaded on all sides by a green forest, made up of several kinds of trees, that preserve their verdure all the year. The neighbouring mountains are served with them; and, by reason of their height, are more exposed to the dews, and drizzling rains, than any of the adjacent parts, which gives occasion to Virgil's Rosea rura (dewy countries). The river runs extremely rapid before its fall, and rushes down a precipice of a hundred yards high; it throws itself into the hollow of a rock, which, probably, has been worn by such a constant fall of water. It is impossible to see the bottom on which it breaks, for the thickness of the mist that rises from it, which looks at a distance like clouds of smoke, ascending from some vast furnace, and distils in perpetual rains on all the places that lie near it. The river Velino, after having found its way out from among the rocks, runs into the river Nera. [See the Plate. The figures on the fore-ground are in the costume, or dress of the country.

After having passed these falls, this river, which takes its rise in the Appenines, fifty miles above Tivoli, loses itself in the Tibur.

THE WATER FALL OF TERNI.

Besides the cascade and the Sibyl's temple, Tivoli has to boast of the villa Estense, which is said to have cost the family, whose name it bears, three millions of crowns; yet this fine house is going to decay as fast as time can effect it. This palace has been much admired for its architecture, sculpture, paintings, gardens, and water-works. Most of the water-works are still kept up; for, being easily supplied from the river Anio, they are not very chargeable. The large bason, before the palace, furnishes a great quantity of water. Near this bason, is a very long row of some hundreds of eagles, pyramids, bases, and other figures, cut in stone, and fixed on pedestals, with bas-reliefs of stories taken from Ovid's Metamorphoses, and water is ejected from all of them. This row of figures, being several hundred paces in length, is a very elegant ornament; and, at the end, stands a ship with its masts and rigging, as it were, engaged and vigorously defending itself, by ejecting water from all parts. On an adjoining eminence, is a representation of ancient Rome, with its temples, theatres, obelisks, baths, columns, triumphal arches and aqueducts. The Girondola, or dragon fountain, throws up a vast column of water, to the height of twenty palmi. The water-organ, is also a curious piece of work; and the deep cascade is in a good taste. Upon the whole, the water-works at Tivoli surpass those at Frescati; but the latter afford a more agreeable prospect; for Tivoli lies on the brow of a chain of hills, by which great part of its prospect is intercepted on one side.

This was a populous and flourishing town in remoter antiquity; but, it appears to have been thinly inhabited in the reign of Augustus. Horace, in an epistle to Mecaenas, says,

Parvum parva decent. Mihi jam non Regia Roma,

Sed vacuum Tibur placet.

That is, "Little things are adapted to little men. It is not royal Rome that pleases me now, but the empty Tibur."

Though the town itself was not populous, the beauty of the situation, and wholesomeness of the air, prompted great numbers of illustrious Romans, both before the final destruction of the republic, and afterwards, in Augustus's time, to build country-houses in the neighbourhood. Julius Caesar had a villa here, which he was under the necessity of selling, to defray the expence of the public shews and games he exhibited to the people during his Aedileship. Plutarch says, that his liberality and magnificence, on this occasion, obscured the glory of all who had preceded him in the office, and gained the hearts of the people to such a degree; that they were ready to invent new offices, and new honours for him. He then laid the foundation of that power and popularity, which enabled him, in the end, to overturn the constitution of his country. Caius Cassius had also a country house here; where Marcus Brutus and he are said to have had frequent meetings, and to have formed the plan, which terminated the ambition of Caesar; and again offered Rome that freedom, which she had not the virtue to accept. Here also, was the villa of Augustus, whose success in life arose at the field of Philippi, from which he fled; was confirmed by the death of the most virtuous citizens of Rome; and who, without the talents, reaped the fruits of the labour, and vast projects of Julius Caesar. Lepidus the triumvir, Cecilius Metellus, Quintillius Varus, the poets Catullus and Propertius, and other distinguished Romans, had villas in this town, or its environs, and the spots are shewn on which they stood; but nothing renders Tibur so interesting, as the frequent mention which Horace makes of it in his writings. His great patron and friend Mecoenas had a villa here, the ruins of which are to be seen on the South bank of the Anio; and, it was pretty generally supposed, that the poet's own house and farm were very near it, and immediately without the walls of Tibur; but it has been of late asserted, with great probability, that Horace's farm was situated nine miles above that of Mecoenas's, at the side of a stream, called Licenza, formerly Digentia, near the hill of Lucretilis, in the country of the ancient Sabines. Those who hold this opinion say, that when Horace talks of Tibur, he alludes to the villa of Mecoenas; but, when he mentions Digentia, or Lucretilis, his own house and farm are to be understood.

But, whether the poet's house and farm were near the town of Tibur, or at a distance from it; his writings sufficiently shew, that he spent much of his time there; and, it is probable, that he composed great part of his works in that favourable retreat. This he, in some measure, declares in that fine ode addressed to Julius Antoninus; the same whom Augustus first pardoned, and afterwards put privately to death, on account of an intrigue, into which he was seduced by the abandoned Julia, the daughter of Augustus. If Tivoli had nothing else to recommend it, but its being so often sung by the most elegant of the poets, and its having been the residence of so many illustrious men, these circumstances alone would render it worthy the attention of travellers.

On the road from Rome to Tivoli, about three miles from the latter, strangers are desired to visit a kind of lake, called Solfatara, formerly Lacus Albulus, and there shewn certain substances, to which they give the name of floating islands. They are nothing more than bunches of bullrushes, springing from a thin soil, formed by dust and sand blown from the adjacent ground, and glued together by the bitumen, which swims on the surface of this lake, and the sulphur with which its waters are impregnated. Some of these islands are twelve or fifteen yards in length; the soil sufficiently strong to bear five or six people; who, by the means of a pole, may move to different parts of the lake, as if they were in a boat. This lake empties itself by a whitish, muddy stream in the Teverone; a vapour, of a sulphureous smell, arising from it as it flows. The ground near this rivulet, as also around the borders of the lake, resounds as if it were hollow, when a horse gallops over it. The water of this lake has the singular quality of covering every substance which it touches, with a hard stony matter. On throwing a bundle of small sticks, or shrubs into it, they will, in a few days, be covered with a white crust; but what seems still more extraordinary, this encrusting quality is not so strong in the lake itself, as in the canal, or little rivulet that runs from it; and the further the water has flowed from the lake, till it is quite lost in the Anio, the stronger is this quality. These small, round encrustations, which cover the sand and pebbles, resembling sugar-plumbs, are called Confetti di Tivoli. Fishes are found in the Anio, both above and below Tivoli, till it receives the Albula; after which, during the rest of the course to the Tibur, there are none. The waters of this lake, had a high medical reputation anciently; but, at present, they are in no esteem.

The road from Frescati to Rome, by Gensano, Marino, La Riccia, and Castel Gondolfo, is delightful. All the villages, and villas, communicate with each other, by fine walks, and avenues of lofty trees; whose intermingling branches form a continual shade for the traveller. Castel Gondolfo is a little village, near the lake of Albano; on one extremity of which is a castle, belonging to his Holiness, from which the village takes its name. There is nothing remarkably fine in this villa, except its situation. Near the village is likewise the villa Barberini; within the gardens of which are the ruins of an immense palace, built by the Emperor Domitian. There is a charming walk, about a mile in length, along the side of the lake, from Castel Gondolfo, to the town of Albano. The lake of Albano is an oval piece of water, about seven or eight miles in circumference, whose margin is finely adorned with groves and trees of various verdures, beautifully reflected from the lake; and which, with the surrounding hills, and the Castel Gondolfo, which crowns one of them, forms a fine picturesque appearance.

The grand scale on which the beauties of nature appear in Switzerland, and the Alps, has been considered by some as too vast for the pencil; but, among the sweet hills and vallies of Italy, her features are brought nearer the eye, are fully seen and understood, and appear in all the bloom of rural loveliness. Tivoli, Albano, and Frescati, therefore, are the favourite abodes of the landscape-painters, who travel into this country for improvement; and, in the opinion of some, these delightful villages furnish studies better, to the powers of their art, than even Switzerland itself. Nothing can surpass the admirable assemblage of hills, meadows, lakes, cascades, gardens, ruins, groves, and terraces; which charm the eye in wandering amid the shades of Frescati and Albano, appearing in new beauty as they are viewed from different points, and captivating the beholder with endless variety.

The most commanding view is from the garden of a convent of capuchins, at no great distance from Albano. Directly in front is the lake, with the mountains and woods which surround it, and the castle of Gondolfo; on one hand is Frescati, with all its villas; on the other, the towns of Albano, La Riccia, and Gensano; beyond these an uninterrupted view of the Campagna, with St. Peter's church, and the city of Rome in the middle; the whole prospect being bounded by the hills of Tivoli, the Appenines, and the Mediterranean.

One of the scenes, generally taken by most painters, is a view near the fountain, between Lericci and Albano, about twenty-five miles on the road from Rome to Naples, with a distant prospect of part of the Campagnia, and the Mediterranean. The figures are in the dress of the country. N. B. The ancient Via Appia, from Rome to Brundusium, went close to this road, of which there are now some remains. [See the Plate.]

While we were contemplating, says Moore, all these objects with pleasure and admiration, an English gentleman observing, that there was not a prospect equal to it in all France or Germany, and not many superior even in England, gave occasion to the following humourous dialogue, between this latter, and a lively old gentleman from Scotland, a man of worth, but no antiquarian; and, indeed, no admirer of any thing ancient or modern, which had not some relation to his native country. "That I well believe," replied the Caledonian; "but, if I had you in Scotland, I could shew you several, with which this is by no means to be compared." "Indeed! Pray in what part of Scotland are they to be seen?" "I presume you never was at the castle of Edinburgh, Sir?" "Never," "Did you ever see Lock Lomond, Sir?" "I never did." "I suppose I need not ask, whether you have ever been in Aberdeenshire, or the Highlands, or —," "I must confess once for all," interrupted
A VIEW between LORICCI and ALBANO

the Englishman, "that I have the misfortune never to have seen any part of Scotland." "Then I am not surprized," said the Scot, taking a large pinch of snuff, "that you think this is the finest view you ever saw." "I presume, you think those in Scotland a great deal finer?" "A very great deal indeed, Sir; why, that lake for example, is a pretty thing enough; I dare swear, many an English nobleman would give a good deal to have such another before his house; but, Loch Lomond, is thirty miles in length, Sir! There are above twenty islands in it, Sir! That is a lake for you. As for their desert of a Campagna, as they call it, no man who has eyes in his head, Sir, will compare the Campagna of Rome, to the fertile valley of Sterling, with the Forth, the most beautiful river in Europe twining through it." "Do you really in your conscience imagine," said the Englishman, "that the Forth is a finer river than the Thames?" "The Thames!" exclaimed the North Briton; "why, my dear Sir, the Thames at London is a mere gutter, in comparison of the Frith of Forth at Edinburgh." "I suppose then," said the Englishman recovering himself, "you do not approve of the view from Windsor castle?" "I ask your pardon," replied the other, "I approve of it very much; it is an exceeding pretty kind of a prospect; the country appears from it, as agreeable to the sight as any plain flat country, crowded by trees, and intersected by inclosures, can well do; but, I own, I am of opinion, that mere fertile woods, rivers, and meadows, can never of themselves perfectly satisfy the eye." "You imagine, no doubt," said the Englishman, "that a few heath-covered mountains and rocks embellish a country very much?" "I am precisely of that opinion," said the Scot; "and you may as soon convince me, that a woman may be completely beautiful with fine eyes, good teeth, and a fine complexion, though she should not have a nose on her face, as that a landscape or country, can be completely beautiful without a mountain." "Well, but here are mountains enough," resumed the other; "look around you." "Mountains!" cried the Caledonian, "very pretty mountains, truly! They call that Castel Gondolfo of theirs, a castle too, and a palace, forsooth! but, does that make it a residence fit for a prince?" "Why, upon my word, I do not think it much amiss," said the other; "it looks full as well as the palace of St. James's." The palace of St. James," exclaimed the Scot, "is a scandal to the nation; it is both a shame and a sin, that so great a monarch as the King of Scotland, England, and Ireland, with his royal consort, and their large family of small children, should live in a shabby old cloister, hardly good enough for monks. The palace of Holyrood-house, indeed, is a residence meet for a king." "And the gardens; pray what sort of gardens have you belonging to that palace?" said the Englishman, "I have been told, you do not excel in those." "But we excel in gardeners," replied the other, "which are as much preferable as the creator is preferable to the created." "I am surprized, however, that in a country like yours," rejoined the South Briton, "where there are so many creators, so very few fruit-gardens should be created." "Why, Sir, it is not to be expected," said the Scotchman, "that any one country should excel in every thing. Some enjoy a climate more favourable for peaches, vines, and nectarines; but, by God, Sir, no country on earth produces better men and women than Scotland." "I dare say none does," replied the other. "So, as France excels in wine, England in wool, and oxen; Arabia in horses, and other countries in animals; you imagine Scotland excels all others in the human species." "What I said, Sir, was, that the human species in no country excel those of Scotland; and that I assert again, and will maintain, Sir, to my last gasp." "I do not intend to deny it," said the Englishman; "but you will permit me to observe, that men being its staple commodity, it must be owned that Scotland carries on a brisk trade, for I know no country that has a greater exportation; for you will find Scotchmen in all countries of the world." "So much the better for all the countries of the world," said the Scotchman, "for every body knows that the Scotch cultivate and improve the arts and sciences wherever they go." "They certainly improve their own fortune wherever they go," rejoined the other: "like their gardeners, though they can create little or nothing at home, they often create very good fortunes in other countries; and this is one reason of our having the pleasure of so much of their country in London." "Whether it affords you pleasure or not, Sir, nothing can be more certain," replied the Scot in the most serious tone, "than that you may improve very much by their company and example. But there are various reasons," continued he, "for so many of our country sojourning in London. The seat of government is there; the King of Scotland, as well as of England, resides there; the Scotch nobility and gentry, have as good a right to be near the person of their sovereign, as the English; and you must allow, that if some Scotchmen make fortunes in England, many of our best estates are also spent there. But you mean to say, that the Scotch, in general, are poor, in comparison of the English. This we do not deny, and cannot possibly forget, as your countrymen refresh our memories with it so often. We all allow, therefore, that you have this advantage over us; and the Persians had the same over the Macedonians, at the battle of Arbela. But, whether Scotland be poor or rich, those Scots who settle in England must carry industry, talents, or wealth with them, otherwise they will starve there as well as elsewhere; and, when one country draws citizens of this description from another, I leave you to judge which has the most reason to complain. And let me tell you, Sir, upon the whole, the advantages, which England derives from the union, are manifest and manifold." "I cannot say," replied the Englishman, "that I have thought much on the subject; but I shall be obliged to you, if you will enumerate a few of them." "In the first place," resumed the Scot, "has she not greatly increased in wealth since that time?" "She has so," replied the other, smiling, "and I never knew the real cause before." "In the next place, has she not acquired a million and a half of subjects, who, otherwise, would have been her enemies? For this, and other reasons, they are equivalent to three millions. In the third place, has she not acquired security, without which, riches are of no value? There is no door open now, Sir, by which the French can enter into your country. They dare as soon be damned as attempt to invade Scotland; so, if you can only defend your own coast, there is no fear of you; but, without a perfect union with Scotland, England could not enjoy the principal benefit she derives from her insular situation." "Not till Scotland shall be subdued," said the Englishman. "Subdued!" repeated the astonished Scot; "let me tell you, Sir, that is a very strange hypothesis; the fruitless attempts of many centuries, might have taught you that the thing is impossible; and, if you are conversant in history, you will find, that after the decline of the Roman empire, the course of conquest was from North to South." "You mean," said the South Briton, "that Scotland would have conquered England." "Sir," replied the other, "I think the English as brave a nation as ever existed, and therefore I will not say the Scotch are braver; far less shall I assert, that they, consisting of only a fifth part of the number, could subdue the English; but I am sure, that rather than submit they would try; and you will admit, that the trial would be no advantage to either country." "Although I am fully convinced," said the Englishman, "how the experiment would end, I should be sorry to see it made, particularly at this time." "Yet, Sir," rejoined the Scot, "there are people of your country as I am told, who, even at this time, endeavour to exasperate the minds of the inhabitants, of one part of Great Britain against the natives of the other, and to create dissensions between two countries, whose mutual safety depends on their good agreement." I do assure you, Sir," said the English gentleman, "I am not of the number of those who wish to raise such dissensions. I love the Scotch; I always thought them a sensible gallant people; and some of the most valued friends I have on earth are of your country." "You are a man of honour and discernment," said the Caledonian, seizing him eagerly by the hand; "and I protest, without prejudice and partiality, that I never knew a man of that character who was not of your way of thinking."

CHAP. VIII. Amusements and Religious Functions.

THERE are no theatrical entertainments permitted in Rome, except during the carnival; but, they are then attended with a degree of ardour unknown in capitals, whose inhabitants are under no such restraint. Every kind of amusement, indeed, in this gay season, is followed with the greatest eagerness. The natural gravity of the Roman citizens is changed into a mirthful vivacity; and the serious sombre city of Rome exceeds Paris itself, in sprightliness and gaiety. This spirit seems gradually to augment, from its commencement; and is at its height in the last of the six weeks which comprehend the carnival. The citizens then appear in the streets, masked, in the characters of harlequins, pantaloons, punchinellos, and all the fantastic variety of a masquerade. This humour spreads to men, women, and children; descends to the lowest ranks, and becomes universal. Even those who put on no masks, and have no desire to remain unknown, reject their usual clothes, and assume some whimsical dress. The coachmen, who are placed in a more conspicuous point of view than others of the same rank in life, and who are perfectly known by the carriages they drive, generally affect some ridiculous disguise; many of them assume a woman's dress, and have their faces painted, and adorned with patches. However dull these fellows may be, when in breeches, they are, in petticoats considered as the pleasantest men in the world, and excite much laughter in every street in which they appear.

The street called the Corso is the great scene of all these masquerades. It is crouded every night with people of all conditions: those of rank come in coaches, or in open carriages made on purpose. A kind of civil war is carried on by the company as they pass each other. The greatest mark of attention, people can shew their friends and acquaintance, is to throw a handful of little white balls, resembling sugar-plumbs, in their faces; and, if they are not deficient in politeness, they will instantly return the compliment. All who wish to make a figure in the corso, come well provided with this kind of ammunition.

Sometimes two or three open carriages on a side, with five or six persons of both sexes in each, draw up opposite to each other, and fight a pitched battle. On these occasions, the combatants are provided with whole bags full of the small shot above-mentioned; which they throw at each other with much apparent fury, till their ammunition is exhausted, and the field of battle is as white as snow.

The peculiar dresses of every nation of the globe, and of every profession, besides all the fantastic characters, usual at masquerades, are to be seen on the corso. Those of harlequin and pantaloon are in great vogue among the men. The citizens wives and daughters generally affect the pomp of women of quality; while their brothers, or other relations, appear as train-bearers and attendants. In general they seem to delight in characters the most remote from their own. Young people assume the long beard; tottering step, and other concomitants of old age; the aged chuse the bib and rattle of childhood; and the women of quality, and women of the town, appear in the characters of country maidens, nuns, and vestal virgins. All endeavour to support the assumed character to the best of their ability; but none succeed so well as those who represent children.

Towards the dusk of the evening, the horse-race takes place. As soon as this is announced, the coaches, cabriolets, triumphal cars, and carriages of every kind, are drawn up and line the street, leaving a space in the middle for the racers to pass. These are five or six horses trained on purpose for this diversion; they are drawn up a-breast in the Piazza del Popolo, exactly where the corso begins. Certain balls, as at Florence, with little sharp spikes, are hung along their sides, which serve to spur them on. As soon as they begin to run, these animals, by their impatience to be gone, shew, that they understand what is required of them, and that they take as much pleasure as the spectators in the sport. A broad piece of canvas, spread across the entrance of the street, prevents them from starting too soon: the dropping that canvas is the signal for the race to begin. The horses fly off together, and, without riders, exert themselves to the utmost; impelled by emulation, the shouts of the populace, and the spurs above-mentioned. They run the whole length of the corso; and the proprietor of the victor is rewarded by a certain quantity of fine scarlet, or purple cloth, which is always furnished by the Jews.

This diversion, such as it is, seems highly entertaining to the Roman populace; though it appears a a mighty foolish business in the eyes of Englishmen.

Masking and horse-races are confined to the last eight days; but there are theatrical entertainments of various kinds, during the whole six weeks of the carnival. The serious opera is most frequented by people of fashion, who generally take boxes for the whole season. The opera, with which this theatre opened, was received with applause, though the music only was new. The Italians do not always think it necessary to compose new works, for what is called a new opera; they often satisfy themselves with new music, to the affecting dramas of Metastasio. The audience, here, seem to lend a more profound and continued attention to the music, than at Venice. This is probably owing to the entertainment being a greater rarity in the one city, than in the other; for I could perceive, says Moore, that people of fashion, who came every night; began, after the opera had been repeated several times, to abate in their attention, to receive visitors in their boxes, and to listen only when some favourite airs were singing; whereas, the audience in the pit uniformly preserved the most perfect silence; which was only interrupted by gentle murmurs of pleasure from a few individuals, or an universal burst of applause from the whole assembly. The sensibility of some of the audience gave me an idea of the power of sounds; which the dullness of my own auditory nerves could never have conveyed to my mind. At certain airs, silent enjoyment was expressed in every countenance; at others, the hands were clasped together, the eyes half shut, and the breath drawn in with a prolonged sigh, as if the soul was expiring in a torrent of delight. One young woman in the pit called out, O dio, dove sono; che piacer via caccia l'alma? "Oh God, where am I! what pleasure ravishes my soul?

On the first night of the opera, after one of these favourite airs, an universal shout of applause took place, intermingled with demands that the composer of the music should appear. Il maestro! il maestro! resounded from every corner of the house. He was present and led the band of music, and was obliged to stand on the bench; where he continued bowing to the spectators, till they were tired of applauding him. One person in the pit, who had displayed great signs of satisfaction from the beginning of the performance, cried out, "He deserves to be made chief musician to the virgin, and to lead a choir of angels." This expression would be thought strong in any country, but it has peculiar energy here, where it is a popular opinion, that the Virgin Mary is very fond, and an excellent judge, of music. I received this information on Christmas morning, when I was looking at two poor Calabrian pipers, says Moore, doing their utmost to please her, and the infant in her arms. They played for a full hour to one of her images which stands at the corner of a street. All the other statues of the virgin, placed in the streets, are serenaded in the same manner every Christmas morning. On enquiry into the meaning of that ceremony, I was told the above-mentioned circumstance. My informer was a pilgrim, who stood listening with great devotion to the pipers. He told me, at the same time, that the virgin's taste was too refined to have much satisfaction in the performance of these poor Calabrians, which was chiefly intended for the infant; and he desired me to remark, that the tunes were plain, simple, and such as might naturally be supposed agreeable to the ear of a child at his time of life.

Though the serious opera is in the highest estimation, and more regularly attended by people of the first fashion; yet, the opera buffon, or burlettas, are not entirely neglected even by them, and are crowded every night by the middle and lower classes. Some admired singers have performed these during the carnival; and the musical composers have rendered them highly pleasing to the general taste.

The prohibition of female performers renders the amusement, of the Roman theatre, very insipid to foreigners. The natural sweetness of the female voice is ill supplied by the artificial trills of wretched castratos; and the awkward agility of robust sinewy fellows, dressed in women's clothes, is a most deplorable substitute for the graceful movements of elegant female dancers. This horrid practice, which is encouraged by their manner of supplying the place of female fingers, is a greater outrage on religion and morality, than can be produced by the evils which their prohibition is intended to prevent. So far from its being possible to believe that purity of sentiment will be preserved, by bringing eunuchs on the stage, it is more than probable that it has a different effect.

All civil and religious ceremonies, attended with pomp and splendor at Rome, are distinguished by the appellation of functions, and are no mean succedaneum to the shows, for which the Roman people had such a rage.

Of all these functions, the most brilliant is that of the Possesso, or the Pope's cavalcade, when he goes to take possession of the church of St. John Lateran, the most ancient of the churches in Rome, and the mother of all the churches in christendom. This ceremony is equivalent to our coronation; and is performed by every Pope, as soon as convenience will permit, after the conclave has declared in his favour. From St. John's Lateran, he proceeds to the capitol, and receives the keys of that fortress. This is the only ceremony in which the Pope appears in all his spiritual and temporal grandeur. He is preceded, and followed, by above two thousand horsemen, divided into squadrons; the variety of which makes a very entertaining shew. The cardinals, the upper and lower dignitaries, and all the Pope's houshold, in ceremonial habits, make a part in this cavalcade. The least showy, and at the same time the least convenient accoutrements, are those of the cardinal: their hats, which are quite flat, are fastened to their head only by strings tied under the chin; their long mantles cover the horse's whole body, like a caparison; and the two corners of the cloak being made fast between his ears, the rider has no means of clearing himself in case of any accident; which, indeed, is little to be apprehended, several footmen going on each side of the horse, and watching its steps. All the finest horses, from Spain and Sicily, are produced on this occasion; and their beauty, and graceful stateliness of motion, add no small addition to the spectacle.

We had a full view of the cavalcade, says Moore, on its return from the church, as it ascended the capitol. The officers, of the Pope's horse-guards, were dressed in a style equally rich and becoming. It was something between the Hungarian and Spanish dress. The Swiss guards were, on this occasion, dressed with less propriety; their uniforms were real coats of mail, with iron helmets on their heads, as if they had been going to take the capitol by storm, and expected a vigorous resistance. Their appearance was strongly contrasted with that of the Roman barons, who were on horseback, without boots, and in full dress; each of them was preceded by four pages; their hair hanging in ringlets to the middle of their backs: they were followed by a number of servants in rich liveries. Bishops, and other ecclesiastics succeeded the barons; and then came the cardinals, on horseback, in their purple robes, which covered every part of the horses, except the head. There is no doubt but that the horses, employed at such ceremonies, are the gentlest that can be found; for, if they were at all unruly, they might not only injure the surrounding crowd, but throw their eminences, who are not celebrated for their skill in horsemanship. Last of all comes the Pope himself, mounted on a milk-white mule, distributing blessings with an unsparing hand among the multitude, who follow him with acclamations of Viva il Santo Padre! i. e. Long live the holy father! and, prostrating themselves on the ground before his mule, Benedizione, Santo Padre, i. e. Your blessing, holy father. The Pope took particular care to wave his hand in the form of a cross, that the blessings he pronounced might have the greater efficacy. As his Holiness is employed in this manner, during the whole procession, he cannot be supposed to give the least attention to his mule, the bridle of which is held by two persons, who walk by his side; with some others, to catch him, and prevent his being thrown to the ground, in case the mule should stumble.

At the entrance of the capitol, he was met by the senator of Rome; who, falling on his knees, delivered the keys into the hands of his Holiness, who pronounced a blessing over him, and restored them to him again. Proceeding from the capitol, the Pope was met by a deputation of Jews, soon after he had passed through the arch of Titus. They were headed by the chief Rabbi, who presented him with a long scroll of parchment, on which was written the whole law of Moses, in Hebrew. His Holiness received the parchment in a very gracious manner; telling the Rabbi, at the same time, that he accepted his present out of respect to the law itself, but entirely rejected his interpretation; for the ancient law, having been fulfilled by the coming of the Messiah, was no longer in force. As this was not a convenient time, or place, for the Rabbi to enter into a controversy on this subject, he bowed in silence, and retired with his countrymen; in full conviction, that the falsehood of the Pope's assertion, would be made manifest to the whole universe in due time. His Holiness, meanwhile, proceeded in triumph, through the principal streets, to the Vatican.

Among the most remarkable functions, during the Santa Settimana, are, first, the ceremonies of Palm Sunday, which commence in the chapel at Monte Cavallo, where the Pope blesses the palms, and hears mass. Two sorts of cardinals are drawn up on each side the altar; the cardinal priests, and cardinal deacons; their vestments violet-colour, ornamented with ermine and lace. Just as the function is about to begin, the cardinals take off their furs and outward drapery, and put on vestments embroidered with gold; they then rise and approach his Holiness, from whose hands they receive the palms. When mass is sung, the passion is recited by two ecclesiastics; one narrates the words and accusation of Jesus Christ, from the evangelists; and the other answers for our blessed Saviour; the clamour and uproar of the Jews is imitated by the clergy. A most curious procession makes part of this function: the streets of Rome, through which it is to pass, are strewed with sand; and the Pontiff, accompanied by the cardinal, makes a public entry, in imitation of our Saviour into Jerusalem, all mounted upon mules, and bearing branches of box-tree in their hands. Vain were the attempt to describe the horsemanship upon this occasion; the obstinacy of the mules, their kicking and curvetting, and the embarrassments arising from the cardinals garments. A litter, covered with crimson velvet, is provided for the Pope's use, in case his Holiness should come to the ground.

The next principal ceremony is the tenebrae of the holy Wednesday, performed at five o'clock in the afternoon, in the chapel of St. Paulina, in the Vatican. The tenebrae are chaunted as in other Roman Catholic churches, but executed with more judgment, and better voices. The miserere d'Allegri, concludes this function, and is performed by vocal musicians only. I own, says Lady Millar, I never heard music before. I supposed I had formed some idea of the power and effects of the human voice; but, had I been conveyed blindfold into this chapel, and no intimation given whence the sounds proceeded, I should should have believed myself in Paradise. How then shall I attempt to convey the slightest idea of this celestial melody, by any description! I must say no more than that I have heard enough to make me dissatisfied with the finest opera, and the most perfect performers, that are to be found out of the chapel of St. Paulina.

On Maundy Thursday, the Pope pronounces his benediction to the people, from a balcony in St. Peter's, where an infinite croud is collected on the occasion. The manner and the form are more suitable to the holiness of his character, says Sharp, than I was aware. I understood he cursed all Turks and heretics on the face of the earth; whereas, that part of the function is performed by two of the cardinal deacons, who read the curse, one in Italian, the other in Latin; and the words are no sooner out of their mouths, than he pronounces the benediction, and wipes off all its efficacy. The Pope is, during this ceremony, supported on the shoulders of twelve men, in an armed chair, holding in his hand a large lighted wax taper; and, in the very instant that the last words of the curse are uttered, the bell tolls, and he throws it down among the people; which circumstance clearly explains the sense of a proverb well known in England, of swearing, or cursing by bell, book and candle. There are three or four exhortations delivered by his Holiness, previous to his reading the benediction; these are, that, if the assembly would sincerely repent of their sins, there was room for absolution; and the benediction seemed to be as little arrogant as that pronounced by our ministers at the end of the liturgy. In the moment that he speaks the benediction, the bell tolls, the drums beat, and the cannon at the castle of St. Angelo fire; which adds to the awfulness of the scene, and renders the performance truly solemn.

There is another curious ceremony performed this day; that of the Pope washing the pilgrim's feet, as it is expressed, and serving them at the table. These are thirteen poor priests of different nations. The priest who sits in the middle represents our Saviour; and the six, on each side of him, his apostles.

On Good-Friday and Easter-eve, there are no extraordinary ceremonies. The common miserere is chaunted; but, in the evening, the church of St. Peter is crouded with people, who walk about and converse. It is remarkable, that Friday and Saturday are not esteemed so sacred as the foregoing days of the holy week; and that, during the said week, no shops are shut; but trade and business go on as usual.

On Easter-day, the same function that was performed on Thursday is repeated; with this difference, that there is no curse, only the benediction. The concourse of people is also greater, as the peasants from the adjacent countries are more at leisure on Sunday, to come and partake of the blessing. As it is a religious ceremony, and the mob make all their religion consist in ceremony, and due submission to the church and the priesthood; there are no riots here as there would be with us. The moment the cannon at the castle of St. Angelo fire, the good people in the neighbourhood, who hear the report, prostrate themselves, and are supposed to have received the benefit of the benediction. There are both days two squadrons of horse, and a battalion of infantry, which are no small ornament of the festival; for, though the troops of his Holiness might possibly make no great figure in a field of battle; they are well cloathed, and add much to the glory of the day, and the beauty of St. Peter's church-yard.

Another very important function, in the church of Rome, is in the Jubilee year. The first Jubilee was instituted by Boniface the Eighth, in the year 1300. Many ceremonies, and institutions of the Roman Catholic church, are founded on those of the old heathens. This is evidently in imitation of the Roman secular games, which were exhibited every hundredth year, in honour of the gods; they lasted three days and three nights; they were attended with great pomp, and drew vast numbers of people to Rome, from all parts of Italy, and the most distant provinces. Boniface recollecting this, determined to institute something analogous, which would immortalize his own name, and promote the interest of the Roman Catholic religion in general, and that of the city of Rome in particular. He embraced the favourable opportunity, which the beginning of a century presented; he invented a few extraordinary ceremonies, and declared the year 1300 the first Jubilee year; during which, he assured mankind that Heaven would be in a particular manner propitious, in granting indulgences and remission of sins, to all who should come to Rome, and attend the functions there to be performed, at this fortunate period, which was not to occur again for a hundred years. This drew a great concourse of wealthy sinners to Rome; and, the extraordinary circulation of money it occasioned, was strongly felt all over the Pope's dominions. Clement the Sixth, regretting that these advantages should occur so seldom, abridged the period, and declared there would be a Jubilee every fifty years; the second was, accordingly, celebrated in the year 1350. Sixtus the Fifth, imagining that the interval was still too long, once more retrenched the half; and, ever since, there has been a Jubilee every twenty-fifth year. It is not likely that any future Pope will think of shortening this period; if any alteration were again to place, it most probably would be, to restore the ancient period of fifty, or a hundred years; for, instead of the wealthy pilgrims who flocked to Rome, from every quarter of Christendom, ninety-nine in a hundred of those who come now, are supported by alms, during their journey, or are barely able to defray their own expences by the strictest economy; and his Holiness is supposed, at present, to derive no other advantage, from the uncommon fatigue he is obliged to go through on the Jubilee year, except the satisfaction he feels in reflecting on the benefit his labours confer on the souls of beggars, and other travellers, who resort from all corners of Italy to Rome, on this blessed occasion. The states, which border on the Pope's dominions, suffer many temporal inconveniences from the zeal of the peasants and manufacturers; the greater part of whom still make a point of visiting St. Peter's on the Jubilee year; the loss sustained by the countries, which such emigrants abandon, is not balanced by any advantage transferred to that to which they resort. By far the greater number of pilgrims come from the kingdom of Naples; whose inhabitants, are said to be of a very devout and amorous disposition. The first prompts them to go to Rome, in search of that absolution which the second renders necessary; and, on the year of the Jubilee, when indulgences are to be had at an easier rate than at any other time, those who can afford it, generally carry away such a stock, as not only is sufficient to clear old scores, but will also serve as an indemnifying fund for future transgressions.

There is one door, into the church of St. Peter's, which is called the holy door. This is always walled up, except on this distinguished year; and even then, no person is permitted to enter by it, but in the humblest posture. The pilgrims, and many others, prefer crawling into the church upon their knees, by this door, to walking in, in the usual way, by any other. The shutting up of this door is performed with great ceremony. The Pope being seated on a raised seat, or kind of throne, surrounded by cardinals and other ecclesiastics; an anthem is sung, accompanied by all sorts of musical instruments. During the performance, his Holiness descends from the throne, with a golden trowel in his hand places the first brick, and applies some mortar; he then returns to his seat, and the door is instantly built up, by more expert workmen, so to remain till the next Jubilee; when it is opened with the same solemnity that it is shut. At the beginning of the last Jubilee, when the wall was thrown down; men, women, and children scrambled, and fought for the fragments with the same eagerness which less enlightened mobs display on days of public rejoicing, when handfuls of money are thrown among them. The Catholics assert, that these pieces of brick have the virtue of curing many of the most obstinate diseases: and, if newspapers were permitted at Rome, there is not the least reason to doubt, that these cures would be attested publicly by the patients, in a manner as satisfactory and convincing, as are the cures performed daily by the pills, powders, drops, and balsams, advertised in the London newspapers. After shutting the holy door, mass is celebrated at midnight, and the ceremony attended by vast multitudes of people.

For my part, says Moore, from whom we have taken the description of this ceremony. I suspended my curiosity till next day, which was Christmas-day, when I went to St. Peter's church, and saw the Pope perform mass on this solemn occasion.

After mass, the Pope gave the benediction to the people assembled, in the grand court, before the church of St. Peter. It was a remarkably fine day; an immense multitude filled that spacious and magnificent area; the horse and foot guards were drawn up in their most showy uniforms. The Pope seated in an open, portable chair, in all the splendor which his wardrobe could give, with the tiara on his head, was carried out of a large window, which opens on a balcony in the front of St. Peter's. The silk hangings, and gold trappings, with which the chair was embellished, concealed the men who carried it, so that to those who viewed him from the area below, his Holiness seemed to sail forward from the window, self-balanced in the air like a celestial being. The instant he appeared, the music struck up, the bells rang from every church, and the cannon thundered from the castle of St. Angelo, in repeated peals. During the intervals, the church of St. Peter's, the palace of the Vatican, and the banks of the Tibur, re-echoed the acclamations of the populace. At length, his Holiness arose from his seat, and an immediate and awful silence ensued. The multitude fell upon their knees, with their hands and eyes raised towards his Holiness, as to a benign deity. After a solemn pause, he pronounced the benediction, with great fervour, elevating his out-stretched arms as high as he could; then closing them together, and bringing them back to his breast, with a slow motion, as if he had got hold of the blessing, and was drawing it gently from Heaven. Finally, he threw his arms open, waving them for some time, as if his intention had been to scatter the benediction, with impartiality, among the people.

No ceremony can be better calculated for striking the senses, and imposing on the understanding, than this of the supreme Pontiff, giving the blessing from the balcony of St. Peter's. For my own part, says Moore, (and other writers have made similar remarks) had I not, in my early youth, received impressions highly unfavourable to the chief actor in this magnificent interlude; I should have been in danger of paying him a degree of respect, very inconsistent with the religion in which I was educated.

CHAP. IX. People, their Character, Customs, and Manners.

THE condition of all the citizens of Rome is as singular as the constitution under which they live; and, it is in this particular, that modern Rome is most like the ancient city. In its most happy times, that is to the year 650, from the foundation, according to Cicero, there were scarce two thousand housekeepers who had any property; "qui rem haberent." And it is much to be feared, whether as many could be found among the hundred and fifty, or two hundred thousand inhabitants, which modern Rome is supposed to contain.

The great officers of state, and eight or ten ancient families, but eclipsed by four or five, whom the triple crown has enriched and promoted; these, together, with foreigners, supply the public luxury; but, in this luxury, alms bear a considerable part. We have seen the richest Roman prince, not spending above one shilling per day on his table, and the furniture of his house suitable to such parsimony, yet distributing thousands of pounds in alms of various kinds. This superabundance of charity, which is to sloth, as honey to hornets, corresponds with the congiaria of the Roman emperors, and is productive of the same effect.

The middle state, every where else formed by citizens and trades-people, is unknown at Rome. There is no medium between opulence and poverty. The rich are the richest of men, and the poor, the most indigent creatures in the world; an excess never known in a well-governed state. Extremities touch each other; every member of the state either gives, or receives alms. No small part of the wages, of the numerous retinue of the cardinals and nobles, consists in alms, under the softening appellation of of buon mancie; "good festivals:" far agosto: "welcomes," or "good journies." The eldest of every family, under the respectable title of decano, is, in this respect, the solicitor, receiver, and cash-keeper to his fellow-servants. In short, it is a saying among the Romans themselves, that there is not a burgess of Rome, but would sell the very sun for a sixpence.

Persons of easy circumstances are not to be met with, among the lower dignitaries of the church; nor among the set of lawyers called curiales; nor among those marquisses and counts, who, with the title of Maestri di camera and Scudieri, are as profoundly versed in all matters of ceremony, as the Germans in civil law; nor, in short, among the placemen belonging to the different officers of the court; all these live more on hope than substance. The demise of a Pope, and the vacancy occasioned thereby, reduces them to alms. The only class of people, whose competence puts them on a footing with the other ranks, are the consistorial counsellors. A fondness for ornament, and parade, is the hobby-horse of the Roman people, to this all other inclinations give way: it regulates and directs the expences of the rich and great; what they save in good cheer, and on comfortable living, they lavish on entertainments, equipages, liveries, and external show. Equally ambitious of this are the people, amid all their penury: the shambles, the butchers, and their stalls, are all set off with linen as white as snow: the fruiterers shops are dispersed in curious designs, as if for a fight: the shoemaker, and even the cobler, decorates his shop with scraps of gilded leather. When some public festival approaches, a whole family shall, for a day or two in a week, abate of their usual sustenance, to furnish coach-hire on these occasions. This passion for glitter and parade opens the door to intrigues. It is found with the lowest poverty. All those of the lower class, decked out so very fine at the public places, have scarce a gown to their backs when at home; one shift is their whole stock, which good housewifery will not allow them to lie in, and which every Saturday, after going through a slop-wash, is displayed at the windows till perfectly dry.

Magnificence, hypocrisy, and sadness reign here: the number of fine palaces, of beautiful churches, of superb fountains, of the treasures of art, and venerable remains of antiquity give an air of grandeur to Rome, which is not to be found in any other country.

The want of public entertainments, the little population, in proportion to the extent of the city; and its situation, surrounded by hills, which prevent a free circulation of air, added to the oppressive weight of the plumbeus auster of Horace; the Scirocco wind, seem to me the chief causes of its real sadness; but what increases this apparent gloom, is the air of sanctity which the Romans affect, and the general dress of the country, which is black. The habit of an Abbé is the court-dress; and, as it is also the cheapest, every one wears it. Every court is the abode of dissimulation; at Rome, there are as many courts as cardinals; every cardinal is a kind of prince, and may become a sovereign; this reason alone is sufficient to shew, that this country must have more hypocritical characters than any other.

Of all the sovereigns whom I have seen, says Sherlock, the Pope represents majesty the best; the cardinals are like Martial's epigrams; some good, some bad, but many more indifferent. Almost all derive honour from their rank.

The women are reserved in public; and in private, extravagant to a degree; the prelates effeminate; the nobility, with some few exceptions, illiterate; and the people, wicked.

The studies, generally pursued, are, the law, antiquities, and divinity; because these are the three principal roads that here lead to fortune. A poet is considered as a dangerous, or at best, as an useless being; and, for this reason, a poetic talent is rather oppressed than encouraged. Metastasio could not there find bread.

We see here frequent occasion to admire the genius of Corneille, for the truth with which he has drawn the Roman women. The assurance of their eye, the firmness of their step, every feature of their face, and every movement of their body, declare the boldness of their souls. They have a very noble air, which is heightened by trailing robes, and which they all wear, down to the women of the third degree.

The nation, adds Sherlock, has something like pride, which is not displeasing to me; it is that sort of haughtiness we see in a man of ancient family fallen to decay. But it has a desire of disguising itself, which pleases no one. The first proverb of the country is, he who knows not how ta dissemble, knows not how to live; and they all know how to live. They love obscurity in every thing.

The Roman has naturally a depth of understanding and strength of character; he is easily moved; and, when he is moved, he is violent to an excess. If the dress of the country were military, we should think ourselves, as we walk the streets, in ancient Rome; the faces we meet, so much resemble the characters that history has transmitted to us. This idea has often struck me among the men; and it is still more striking in the women. You will often say, "There is a woman who might well be the mother of Gracchus, and there is another who might produce a Sylla!" The number of Messalinas is small, that of Lucretias less; and for Sempronias, Qui soepius petunt viros quam petuntur, i. e. "Who oftener seek for gallants, than gallants for them;" they are to be found rather at Naples than at Rome.

The following, says Sherlock, is a mark of national distinction, between a Roman and a Neapolitan woman; a woman of Naples is less modest than one of Rome, and more bashful; Neapolitan women have been often seen to blush, but it is not possible to put a Roman woman out of countenance.

In their external deportment, the Italians, remarks Moore, have a grave solemnity of manner, which is sometimes thought to arise from a natural gloom of disposition. The French, above all other nations, are apt to impute to melancholy, the sedate, serious air which accompanies reflection.

Though in a pulpit, on the theatre, and even in common conversation, the Italians make use of a great deal of action; yet, Italian vivacity is different from the French; the former proceeds from sensibility, the latter from animal spirits.

The inhabitants of this country have not the brisk look, and elastic trip, which is universal in France; they move rather with a flow, composed pace; and the people of the most finished fashion, as well as the neglected vulgar, seem to prefer the unconstrained attitude of the Antinous, and other antique statues, to the artificial graces of a French dancing-master, or the erect strut of a German soldier.

Of all the countries in Europe, Switzerland is that in which the beauties of nature appear in the greatest variety of forms, and on the most magnificent scale; in that country, therefore, the young landscape painter has the best chance of seizing the most sublime ideas; but, Italy is the best school for the historic one, not only from its being enriched with works of the greatest masters, and the noblest models of antique sculpture; but also, on account of the fine expressive stile of the Italian countenance. Here are few, or none, of those fair, flat, glistening, unmeaning faces, so common in the more northern parts of Europe. I happened, says Moore, once, to sit by a foreigner of my acquaintance, at the opera in London, when a certain nobleman, who was then a good deal talked of, entered. I whispered him—"This is Lord —." "Not, surely, the famous Lord —," said he. "Yes," said I, "the very same." "It must then be acknowled," continued he, "that the noble earl does infinite honour to those who had the care of his education." "How so?" rejoined I; "Because," replied the foreigner, "as a countenance, so completely vacant, strongly indicates a deficience of natural abilities; it is to be presumed, the respectable figure he makes in the senate, is entirely owing to instruction."

Strangers, on their arrival at Rome, form no high idea of the beauty of the Roman women, from the specimens they see in the fashionable circles, to which they are first introduced. There are some exceptions; but, in general, it must be acknowledged, that the present race of women, of high rank, are more distinguished by other ornaments, than their beauty. For brilliant red and white, and all the charms of complexion, no women can equal the English. If a hundred English women were taken at random, and compared with the same number at Rome; ninety of the English would be found handsomer than ninety of the Romans; but, probably, two or three in the hundred Italians, might have finer countenances than any of the English. Beauty, in England, is more remarkable in the country, than in towns; the peasantry of no country in Europe can stand a competition, in point of looks, with those of England. This race of people have the conveniences of life, in no other country, in such perfection; they are no where so well fed, so well defended from the injuries of the seasons; and, no where else do they keep themselves so perfectly clean, and free, from all vilifying effects of dirt. In other countries, the female peasants are so hard worked, so ill sed, so tanned, and so dirty, that it is difficult to know whether they have any beauty or not.

With countenances so favourable for the pencil, it will naturally be imagined, that portrait-painting is in the highest perfection in Rome. The reverse, however, of this, is true; that branch of the art is in the lowest estimation all over Italy. In palaces, the best furnished with pictures, a portrait is seldom seen of the proprietor, or of any of his family. A quarter-length of the reigning Pope is, sometimes, the only portrait of a living person, to be seen in the whole palace. Several of the Roman princes affect to have a room of state, or audience-chamber, in which is a raised seat, like a throne, with a canopy over it. In those rooms, the effigies of the pontiffs are hung; they are the works of very inferior artists, and seldom cost above three or four sequins. As soon as his Holiness departs this life, the portrait disappears; and the face of his successor is, in due time, hung up in its stead. This, it may be said, is treating their old sovereign rather unkindly, and paying no very expensive compliment to the new; it is not so economical, however, as what was practised by a certain person in another country. He had a full-length picture of his sovereign, in the principal room of his house; on his Majesty's death, to save himself the expence of a fresh body, and a new suit of ermine, he employed a painter to brush out the face and perriwig, and clap the new king's head on his grandfather's shoulders; which he declared were in the utmost preservation, and fully able to wear out three or four such heads, as painters usually give in these degenerate days.

The Italians very seldom take the trouble of sitting for their pictures. They consider a portrait as a piece of painting, which engages the admiration of no one but the person it represents, or the painter who drew it. Those who are in circumstances to pay the best artists, generally employ them in subjects more universally interesting, than the representation of human countenances, staring out of a piece of canvas.

The summers, at Rome, are very tedious, every one keeping close at home the whole day, and taking their naps at Rome; so that, it is a common saying there, "That none but dogs, ideots, and Frenchmen, walk the streets in the day-time." The heat of the climate makes the Romans passionately fond of spring water, iced and cooling liquors; and great quantities of snow and ice, brought from the mountains, and preserved in ice-houses, are consumed there.

In regard to the unwholesomeness of the air, the dog-days, and some weeks after, are mostly dreaded at Rome. The precautions taken by the Romans, for the preservation of health during these heats, would not be thought of by a foreigner. One of their good rules is expressed in this sentence: "In June, July, and August, a person must have no commerce with the ladies.

But, possibly, this rule is but little observed. It is farther affirmed that a person, used to live at Rome, cannot, without manifest danger, keep within fifteen or twenty miles of that city. And, in travelling to Rome, they take care, in the last day's journey, not to put up within that distance. Even within the city they seldom change their bedchamber, though it be for another in the same house. Removals from one house to another, between St. Peter's and All Saints days, are supposed to be so dangerous at Rome, that a tenant, or lodger, cannot be compelled to leave a house within that term. As mutual compliments pass between friends, in other places, at the beginning of the new year, the like civility is paid here, at the beginning of the month of August. At this time of the year, few people go abroad in the day time; but, after sun-set, divert themselves with taking the air on foot, or in coaches; and the first of August is a great day, in Rome, for feasting and friendly entertainments.

In England, observes Keysler, suicides are most frequent in the beginning, or toward the close of winter, when the Easterly winds most prevail. But, in Rome, the greatest enormities are perpetrated in the two hottest summer months. This is imputed to the blood's being over-heated at this season; however, the exertion of proper severity, and the abolition of asylums in churches, would soon cool this pretended ardour, that prompts the Romans to all manner of wickedness.

That London should be more subject to fevers, and fluxes, when the North-east wind blows, proceeds from the noxious effluvia, which that wind brings from the fens and marshes of Cambridgeshire, Lincolnshire, and Essex. In Rome, the most sickly seasons are, when the South, or South-east wind blows, which the Italians call Sirocco, from the Arabic word Haloque; its course being over the boggy uncultivated coasts of Africa, and the morasses that lie South of Rome.

After all, the Romans make too much ado about the danger of their summer heats; foreigners, who use very little precaution in this respect, enjoy as good a state of health as the natives. How many cardinals come from other countries to Rome, in summer, when a conclave is to be held, without so many timorous fears, and return as well as they came? But no one will pretend to say, that heat has a respect to persons. This chimerical danger, seems to have been unknown in the time of Cicero; from whose epistles it appears, that he frequently resided at Rome, during the summer months, and took many journies to, and from Rome, at that season of the year.

There are few countries, where a true judgment is so formed of strangers, as at Rome, gens emunctae naris, natura cui verba non potuit dare, says a famous Jesuit of the modern Romans. That is, they are people of an acute discernment, to whom nature has not given the power of unfolding their thoughts. Their custom of studying one another, produces this habit of sagacity; this is the polar star, by which they steer their behaviour toward those with whom they have any intercourse. They cannot be long imposed upon, either by a dull or promising physiognomy: to them, this is no more than the persona tragica, the mask to the fox. An appearance of frankness, an air of gaiety, entirely unhinges them; and puzzles them the more, as being less allied to that gravity, in which they muffle themselves up, that others may not see into them.

This gravity never leaves them in public, nor even in the parties of pleasure, which seem contrived to shake it off. In private, however, they make themselves amends. Nothing can be more chearful than their clubs; where a select party freely give themselves up to that tranquil gaiety, suited to the natural seriousness of their character, and in which consisted the urbanitas of the ancient Romans. There one may laugh, even at persons who form part of the company; there the spropositi of a foreigner, esteemed so far as to be admitted among them, and who is never reproved in public, for not speaking the language correct, are made matters of merriment; there they laugh more, and more heartily, than in any other place; and circulate a number of tales, of which they have an inexorable fund; and such excellent relaters are the Romans, that their manner always gives an air of novelty to their story. Let the following serve as a specimen.

In the engagement between the devil and St. Michael the archangel, finding his spear was rather an incumbrance than of any use to him, darted up again to Heaven; and catching up a thunder-bolt, hurled it headlong at Lucifer, so that his body flew about in pieces: his legs fell in France; and hence the petulance of the French, and their passion for rambling: Lucifer's head went into Spain; and to this is owing the pride, stiffness, and overbearing carriage of the Spaniards: the hand, with which the fiend used to pilfer, Naples got; and that, with which he squeezed people, was Genoa's portion: his stomach was picked up in Germany; and the least honourable parts of his body alighted in Rome; and this, adds the Romans, has made all of us such whore-masters as we are.

The Italians have retained those words, which other nations have cashiered; as politeness and good manners began to prevail among them. The objects, expressed by these words, are an ample field for the convivial muses. In short, Italy swarms both with obscene and devout sonnets. They are, from their infancy, accustomed to nudities, as were the Greeks and Romans. Their ears are as little moved with the expression, as their eyes with the representation of objects; the indecency of which has been lessened by habit. It was from a deep-rooted custom, that after Benedict IV. was exalted to the Pontificate, one of the most obscene words in the Italian language, equally escaped him, both in his anger and mirth; that is, it was almost always on his tongue. This word, and its counterpart, are the most common oaths, or rather interjections, among the Romans. Per dio (by God) is seldom or ever heard, on account of the penalties pronounced against persons guilty of blasphemy; but, per dio Bacco, is in every one's mouth.

The merriment of private clubs never shews itself in public, but during the carnival; in no part of Italy, is that festival carried to such a pitch of extravagance and folly, as at Rome; it is a perfect transcript of the ancient saturnalia, in all its mad frolics.

Breach of chastity, in females of low rank, is not considered here in the same heinous light, as in some parts of Germany and Great Britain; where it is deemed a crime of such magnitude, as to require expiation, by a public rebuke from the officiating minister, in the middle of the church. In these countries, those who live in an open and avowed breach of chastity, are generally more daringly wicked and devoid of principle, than the Italian women, who take the same liberties. In Italy, says Moore, women, who never put any value on the virtue of chastity, those who sell their favours for money, display a goodness of character in other respects, and continue their duty and attachment to their parents, as long as they live. Foreigners, who form a connection with a girl in this country, find themselves very often obliged to maintain the father, mother, and whole family to which she belongs. The lover generally considers this as a very troublesome circumstance; and, endeavours to inspire his Italian mistress with that total neglect of her family, which prevails among women of her stamp in other countries; but he very seldom succeeds. An Italian woman is unwilling to quit her native city, and her family, even for a man she loves; and seldom does, till he makes some provision for her nearest relations. They attend mass, and the ceremonies of devotion, with as much punctuality as if their lives were regular in all other respects.

Of their attending to the external functions of their religion, with scrupulous exactness, the above writer cites a remarkable trait in an Italian woman of fashion, who refused to have any farther connexion with her cicisbeo, or lover, because her confessor had refused her absolution. This lady was distinguished at Rome, for a punctilious observance of all the ceremonies appointed by the church; she could not eat meat on a meagre day, or deviate from the canonical regulation, in any point of equal importance, without remorse; but, in matters of gallantry, she had the reputation of being infinitely more liberal, both in her sentiments and practice. She had been, for some time, provided with a very able and respectable lover, of her own country. This did not make her blind to the qualities of a young Englishman, with whom she formed a very intimate connection, soon after his arrival at Rome; not that she preferred him to her last lover, but, merely from a strong sense of the truth and beauty of this arithmetical axiom, that one and one make two. The new arrangement with our countryman, however pleasing to the lady, gave offence to her father confessor. The scrupulous ecclesiastic was of opinion, that a connection of this nature, with a heretic, was more criminal, than with a man of her own communion. The Englishman entered her apartments one day as the confessor went out; she shut the door after him, with a violence that shook the whole house, muttering, as she returned to her seat, "The devil go along with you for an old goose." Her lover expressed his concern on seeing her so much agitated. "No wonder," said she, "that stubborn animalaccio, who has just gone out, has had the insolence to refuse me absolution. As I expected you this morning, I sent for him betimes, that the matter might have been expedited before you should come; but here have I been above an hour, endeavouring to persuade him, but all to no purpose; nothing I could say, was able to mollify the obstinate old greasy scoundrel." The Englishman joined in abusing the confessor's perverseness; hinting, at the same time, she ought to despise it as a matter of no importance; that she was sure of receiving absolution sooner or later; and that, whenever it happened, all the transactions of the internal, would be comprehended in that one act of grace. Upon the strength of this reasoning, he was proceeding to fulfil the purpose of his visit, with as much alacrity, as if the most complete discharge had been granted for all past proceedings—Pian Piano idol mio, "softly, softly, my love," cried the lady, bisogna rimettersi alla voluntà di dio. "We must submit to the will of Heaven." She then told her lover, that, although she despised the confessor as much as he could do, yet she must take care of her soul; that, not having settled her accounts with Heaven for a long time, she was determined not to begin a new score till the old was cleared off; adding, for her principal reason, Patto chiaro, amico caro. "Short accounts make long friends."

END OF VOL. XVI.

Error in the Writing to two Plates of Vol. XVI.

- For View of the Lake of Nerne, called Speculum Diannae, read View of the Lake of Nemi, called Speculum Dianae.

- Celesten III. kicking the Crown, read Celestin III. &c.

Notes

*
For the several dates, see Trusler's Chronology.
↵

Information about this book

Title statement

The habitable world described: or the present state of the people in all parts of the globe, from north to south; shewing the situation, extent, climate, ... including all the new discoveries: ... With a great variety of maps and copper-plates, ... By the Rev. Dr. John Trusler. ... [pt.16]

Trusler, John, 1735-1820.

Publication

Distributor

University of Oxford Text Archive
Oxford University Computing Services
13 Banbury Road
Oxford
OX2 6NN
ota@oucs.ox.ac.uk

ID [ota]

http://ota.ox.ac.uk/id/5050

ID [isbn10]

1106020499

ID [isbn13]

9781106020499

ID [TCP]

K096120.016

ID [BIBNO]

CW3300173194

ID [ECHG]

0161700116

Availability

Distributed by the University of Oxford under a Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 3.0 Unported License

Source

— The habitable world described: or the present state of the people in all parts of the globe, from north to south; shewing the situation, extent, climate, ... including all the new discoveries: ... With a great variety of maps and copper-plates, ... By the Rev. Dr. John Trusler. ..., Trusler, John, 1735-1820.. 20v.,plates : maps ; 8⁰. London :: printed for the author, at the Literary-Press, no. 62, Wardour-Street, Soho; and sold by all booksellers,. 1788-97.. [Vols. 1-3 dated 1788; 4-5, 1789; 6-8, 1790; 9-10, 1791; 11-12, 1792; 13-14, 1793; 15-16, 1794; 17-18, 1795; 19, 1796; 20, 1797.] [Each volume has an additional titlepage, engraved: 'The habitable world described. Inscribed by permission to .. Frederick, Duke of York, &c. &c.'.] [The engraved titlepages are dated: vols. 1-11, 1788; 12-15, 1790; 16-19, 1795.] [Vols. 16-18 bear the imprint: London, printed for the author, and sold by J. Parsons.] [Vols. 19-20 bear the imprint: London, printed for the author, and sold by L. Legoux.] [Reproduction of original from the British Library.] [English Short Title Catalog, ESTCT120079.] [Electronic data. Farmington Hills, Mich. : Thomson Gale, 2003. Page image (PNG). Digitized image of the microfilm version produced in Woodbridge, CT by Research Publications, 1982-2002 (later known as Primary Source Microfilm, an imprint of the Gale Group).]

Creation

Created by converting TCP files to TEI P5 using tcp2p5.xsl, TEI @ Oxford.

Editorial practices

This electronic text file was keyed from page images and partially proofread for accuracy. Character capture and encoding have been done following the guidelines of the ECCO Text Creation Partnership, which correspond roughly to the recommendations found in Level 4 of the TEI in Libraries Guidelines. Digital page images are linked to the text file.