TRAVELS 
 
 FROM 
 
 PARIS 
 
 THROUGH 
 
 SWITZERLAND AND ITALY, 
 
 IN THE YEARS 
 1801 AND 1802. 
 
 WITH 
 
 SKETCHES 
 
 OF THE 
 
 MANNERS AND CHARACTERS 
 
 OF THE 
 
 RESPECTIVE INHABITANTS. 
 
 BY A NATIVE OF PENNSYLVANIA. 
 
 LONDON: 
 
 miNTED for RICHARD PHILLIPS, 6, new bridge street 
 
 BLACKFRIARS, 
 By J. G. Barnard, 57, Stwzo Hill. 
 
 1808. 
 
ADVERTISEMENT. 
 
 The following Letters from Europe begin 
 at Paris. It was the Author's original inten- 
 tion to have given his countrymen an oppor- 
 tunity of beholding the rival Empires of France 
 and England, as they appear to an American 
 eye; but conceiving that his principles would 
 be canvassed with suspicion, by the wakeful 
 prejudices of party, (which he is rather disposed 
 to allay than foment) he now offers to the 
 Public that part only of his European Tour to 
 which political objections cannot so readily 
 apply. 
 
 A % 
 
TRAVELS 
 
 THROUGH 
 
 SWITZERLAND AND ITALY. 
 
 LETTER I. 
 
 OUTSET FKOM PARIS.— ROUTE THROUGH CHAMPAGNE.-— 
 
 We staid three months at Paris, in daily expectation 
 of that intelligence from Philadelphia, which should have 
 induced our return, if any thing had occurred at home to 
 render it necessary. But our letters were unaccountably 
 mislaid at London, and my wife's health, though greatly 
 improved by our residence in the south of Fiance, de- 
 manded, for the approaching winter, the genial warmth of. 
 an Italian climate. 
 
 The flames of war, by which the fairest countries in 
 Europe had so long been desolated, were now happily ex- 
 tinguished, by the treaty of Luneville, our inclination to 
 see Rome revived ; and the respectable banking-house of 
 Perregaux and Company, which has maintained private 
 credit amidst national bankruptcy, had offered with 
 obliging confidence, to furnish a passing stranger with the 
 necessary letters of credit. 
 
 Our old post-chariot, the running gear of which had 
 been sadly dislocated by the stony ruts of the Bourdeaux 
 road, was therefore again fitted up, on the presumption 
 that it might hold together as far as Basil, where it would 
 be no longer wanted, for post-horses are not to be had in 
 Switzerland, and it is next to impossible to convey a car- 
 riage over the Alps. 
 
 On the 1 7th of July we set out from our gay lodgings on 
 the Boulevards de Paris, for Rome (perhaps for Naples) 
 
 DESCBIPTION OF BASIL. 
 
 Basil, August 1st. 1801. 
 
 My Dear Friends, 
 
 an excursion which my dear B 
 
 had promised herself 
 
6 
 
 TRAVELS THROUGH 
 
 in her youthful reveries,, however unlikely to have been re* 
 alized by the daughter of a Jersey farmer. # 
 
 We drove off fulT gallop, a la mode de France, and 
 having happily missed running over any body in the crowd- 
 ed Rue St. Denis, or upon the busy Pont Neiif) we rattled 
 along the pave toward Fontainebleau, at a rate which would 
 infallibly have lodged us there that night; but French car- 
 riages, French roads, and French post boys, conspire 
 against expedition, and our rapid career would have come 
 to a full stop, at the first village on the road, if an honest 
 wheelwright had not, in pure compassion, furnished les vol/- 
 ageurs etr angers, with a pair of old shafts, at double the 
 price of new ones, our own having completely gone to 
 pieces, though repaired but the day before, by one of the 
 first workmen in Paris. 
 
 At the second town, a disinterested blacksmith, who gave 
 his advice like a friend, persuaded me to let him put a clamp 
 upon the tire of one of the wheels. At the third, a bro- 
 ther of the trade convinced me that it would be better to 
 take it off again. 
 
 By this time it was almost night, and being now suffi- 
 ciently humbled by repeated vexations, we were glad to 
 take up with meaner lodgings than might have been ex- 
 pected in the neighbourhood of a palace. 
 
 Nextday, however, we reached Fontainebleau time enough 
 to ramble in the royal gardens. They were planted by 
 Francis the First, (the rival of Harry the Eighth at tilt and 
 tournes) in quincunxes and rhomboids, labyrinths and 
 parterres. But the alleys and the fish-ponds were over- 
 run with weeds and bulrushes, grass was growing upon the 
 steps of the porch, so late the gay resort of pomp and plea- 
 sure, and we did not care to subject ourselves, as we had 
 once done at Versailles, to the refusal of the surly repub- 
 lican, that guarded the folding doors of the antiquated cha- 
 teau. One of its apartments, in days of yore, was nobly 
 ornamented with branching antlers, the triumphs of the 
 chace, and another was hung with portraits of the peerless 
 damsels, at whose feet, in a romantic age, they had been 
 courteously laid. 
 
 On our return to the inn, the Argus of the road had dis- 
 covered that the crane neck of our carriage was cracked 
 
 * In America the word farmer does not indicate the tenant of a manor, under 
 the controul of a landlord, or his bailiff; but an independant yeoman, who 
 cultivates his own grounds, keeps a hospitable table, may be in the commission 
 of the peace, or represent his county hi either House of Congress. 
 
SWITZERLAND AND ITALY. 
 
 7 
 
 across, and for a couple of crowns he made it exactly strong 
 enough to hold together to the next town, which we reached 
 early in the day, but not before the blacksmiths of the 
 place were looking out for the custom which the post boys 
 are sure to bring them, by driving full speed over roads 
 paved with granite. 
 
 They readily found a flaw in the new work, but I could 
 not or would not believe them, though they how spoke the 
 truth, and we drove on till the slender clamps would hold 
 together no longer. When 1 perceived that the carriage 
 be gan to settle, it was with difficulty that I could arrest tjjfe 
 gay career of the gar f on de poste, who would have left his 
 charge in the road, without knowing it, as he galloped on 
 like a trooper, heedless of mishap. We were in sight of 
 the post house when the accident happened, yet the 
 modest fellow demanded an allowance for lost time ; and a 
 diffident beggar, observing our misfortune, embraced the 
 favourable moment to teaze us with complaints. 
 
 We sheltered our degraded heads in a paltry cabaret, 
 where we reconciled ourselves as well as we could to the 
 unavoidable delay of giving the crane a complete repair. 
 It was done before night, yet as if the very climax of im- 
 position ,was to be suffered by us, for the information of 
 succeeding travellers, the greedy cyclop expected for his 
 day's work, no less than five louis d'ors. Astonished at the 
 charge, I called in the landlord, demanded the police, and 
 ended with giving the fellow half the money, rather than 
 purchase justice at the expence of ease. 
 
 With heavy hearts we set out again next morning, antici- 
 pating, in perspective, the pains and penalties of two hun- 
 dred miles to come. But we were now agreeably disap-. 
 pointed, for during the remainder of the journey we met 
 with no accident worth mentioning, as we drove rapidly- 
 through Sens, Troyes, and Langres, across the delightful 
 plains of Champagne, smiling with the clustres of ap- 
 proaching vintage. 
 
 The hills began to rise as we entered Alsace, and at 
 Alten-Kirchen we found ourselves surrounded by an amphi- 
 theatre of mountains, stretching from the slopes of Bur- 
 gundy, across Switzerland, into Swabia, and terminating 
 to the eye in the Black Forest, the impenetrable retreat of 
 German barbarians, in the days of all-conquering Rome, 
 as are now the back woods of America to the copper- 
 coloured race, whom we in our turn -call savage Indians. 
 
 Just before we entered Switzerland, a French centinel 
 
8 
 
 TRAVELS THROUGH 
 
 enquired hoto much gold toe had with us. On the reply, he 
 demanded with an air of disappointment, whether the citizen 
 Jcnezo that if he were to search the carriage and find more, it 
 would be forfeited to the Republic, J Lold him I knew 
 it, with an air that satisfied his doubts, and the vigi- 
 lant inquisitor permitted us to drive on without further 
 trouble. 
 
 Basil is a little old-fashioned town, situated on both 
 sides of the Rhine, which is here a boatable stream, de- 
 scending with rapidity from the Rhcetian Alps, along the 
 winding vallies of the most romantic country upon earth. 
 Curiosity, impatiently demands a nearer view of the pecu- 
 liar scenery of Switzerland ; hut we must first recruit our 
 exhausted spirits, and we shall content ourselves for the 
 present, without overlooking the river from our apartment 
 at the Three Kings, a capital inn, the dining-room of 
 which overhangs the green current of the Rhine, in such 
 a manner, that those who are fond of fishing may enjoy 
 their sport from the windows. 
 
 There is nothing gay at Basil but this beautiful stream, 
 and the wooden bridge which crosses it, enlivened by the 
 necessary intercourse of the two quarters of the town, for 
 the streets of Basil are unfrequented by the busy, and the 
 chief amusement of the idle is to reconnoitre the silent 
 avenues from projecting lattices, the use of which a stran- 
 ger cannot immediately divine. 
 
 Amidst such congenial accompaniments, you visit with all 
 the serenity of recollection, the lone church yard, which 
 belonged to the convent of the Friars Predicant, when 
 Basil was depopulated by the plague, during the session of 
 the General Council assembled here in 1431, at which were 
 present the emperor Sigismund, the duke of Milan, and 
 several other christian princes. 
 
 Some contemporary artist, struck with the awful visita- 
 tion that swept away together the prince and the peasant, 
 the cardinal and the capauchin, depicted upon the gloomy 
 walls a Dance of Death, the original of the famous 
 sketches of Holbein. In this dismal masquerade, a hun- 
 dred skeletons, whose distorted attitudes bespeak horrific 
 inirih, lead np in melancholy duet, the reluctant victim of 
 the king of terrors. 
 
 It was here, by the light of flaring torches, in the court- 
 yard of an antiquated hotel, that Maria Theresa (the only 
 member of the immediate family of Lewis the Sixteenth 
 that was permitted to survive the revolution, which hurled 
 
SWITZERLAND AND ITALY. 
 
 3 
 
 the monarch from his throne) was received by the Imperial 
 ambassador, who indignantly rejected the splendid out-fit 
 with which the national assembly had thought proper to 
 send away the daughter of their sovereign.- 
 
 The public library preserves; with appropriate veneration, 
 some portraits from the pencil of Holbein, a contemporary 
 copy of the minutes of the council, and the letters of 
 Erasmus written to his friend Amberbachuis, when the 
 cautious and timid reformer quitted Basil, on account of the 
 religious or political disputes that disturbed his philoso- 
 phic repose. 
 
 But the absurd custom of keeping the clocks an hour 
 faster than the true time of day, no longer puzzles the 
 curiosity of travellers, who are become in this age of inno- 
 vations, equally indifferent whether it originated from the 
 indolence of the council, the vigilance of 'the magistrates, 
 or the declination of the sun dial, which not having been 
 corrected at the reformation, the scrupulous municipality 
 could never afterward be persuaded to reform. 
 
 There was a Roman colony in this neighbourhood, and the 
 country people here often plough upthe coins of the em- 
 perors, from Augustus to Constantine, as they do in Ame- 
 rica arrow heads and stone axes, the silent testimonials of 
 Aboriginal population, 
 
 Strangers seldom quit Basil without carrying away with 
 them some memorials of Switzerland from the print shop 
 of Merhel, the celebrated engraver, who has made as 
 simple a collection of Swiss views, the mountain and the 
 valley, the glacier and the lake, to which he has given 
 historic interest, by scrupulously preserving those local 
 habiliments handed down from father to son, by the plod- 
 ding peasantry of the isolated cantons. 
 
 We have sold our carriage to the innkeeper, and to- 
 morrow we prosecute our journey in a heavy phaeton, hired 
 by the day, a circumstance no less unpromising of expedi- 
 tion than the driver's pipe: but no matter, l am sick of 
 the impositions of the post, and we can amuse ourselves 
 with walking, whenever we are tired <sf riding a saail^ 
 gallop. 
 
10 
 
 TRAVELS THROUGH 
 
 LETTER If. 
 
 JOURNEY THROUGH SWITZERLAND. — DESCRIPTION OF 
 
 ZURICH. 
 
 QUITTING Basil in the cool of the morning, we rode 
 or walked all day, up hill and down, across a corner of 
 Germany, ostensibly consecrated to catholic uses by wooden 
 crosses and stone chapels innumerable. Among them we 
 perceived for the first time, with a degree of veneration, 
 which had more in it of poetry than protestantism, 
 
 a Friar of orders grey, 
 
 counting his beads, and mumbling over his prayer book, 
 if not with zeal according to knowledge, at least with all the 
 abstractedness and tranquillity of a pi /grim and a sojourner 
 upon earth. 
 
 We stopped for the night at a little town, Rheinfelden- 
 Lauffenberg, or Wildenstein, in which a narrow street of 
 ten houses of a side, is blocked up at each end by a gate- 
 way, and hemmed in by a wall, or a precipice; at the foot 
 of which rolls a torrent beneath a covered bridge ; images 
 of confinement, so insupportable to an American, that I 
 could not sit down to supper, tilt I had convinced myself 
 we were at large, by rambling into the adjacent fields and 
 surveying the distant horizon. 
 
 Next morning, quitting the territory of Basil, we passed 
 through the town of Baden, as the peasantry of the neigh- 
 bourhood were collecting in the great church to prostrate 
 themselves before a tinsel Madonna, or crocus saint, and 
 we arrived before noon at Zurich, having passed in a few 
 hours from protestantism to popery, and from popery to 
 protestantism again ; for the religion has been subjected in 
 Switzerland to geographical boundaries, and the hereditary 
 burgher is catholic or protestant, according to the decree 
 of the sovereign council of his canton, when at the pe- 
 riod of the reformation the religion of the state was de- 
 cided, like a political question, by the majority of the 
 votes. J 
 
 This part of Switzerland is hilly, but not mountainous; 
 cultivated, but not fertile ; inhabited, but not populous ; 
 
SWITZERLAND AND ITALY. 
 
 and it exhibit nothing more remarkable to a foreign eye 
 than the beggars idling upon the road, and the women in 
 short petticoats and black caps at work in the fields. 
 
 As you approach Zurich, a manufacturing town often 
 thousand people, beautifully situated at the north end of 
 the lake which bears its name; a charming expanse of 
 water ten leagues in length and one in breadth ; the neigh- 
 bouring hills rise into a stupendous amphitheatre sloping 
 gradually down to the lucid arena, which is every where 
 bordered with vines and pasture grounds, dotted with alter- 
 nate villas, villages, and towns, and pointed with the glis- 
 tening spires of the capital at one end, and the snowy 
 peaks of Schweitz and Glarus at the other. 
 
 The transparent Limmat flows from the lake through the 
 middle of the town, and a broad wooden bridge serves alike 
 for a market-place and a public walk, where walking is not 
 quite so fashionable an amusement as it is in France and 
 England. The principal inn, where we had the good for- 
 tune to find the pleasantest apartments unoccupied, en- 
 croaches upon one side of the bridge, and presents between 
 the tall spires of the churches on the right and left the 
 distant chain of Alpine summits, white with the frost of 
 ages. 
 
 Here we have pitched our tents, as from this command- 
 ing station we can reconnoitre Switzerland, and direct 
 scouting parties at will to scale the walls of the mountain, 
 explore the defiles of the glacier, or lodge in ambush 
 among the islands of the lake, or the thickets of the val- 
 ley* 
 
 Zurich was the first town in Switzerland that separated 
 itself from the prescriptive corruptions of Mother Church. 
 It was here that the moderate and charitable Zuingiius, ori- 
 ginally a priest of Glarus, had ventured to preach against 
 vows, pilgrimages, and votive offerings, before the effer- 
 vescence of reformation had been provoked by the un- 
 limited sale of indulgences. 
 
 The communion had been peaceably substituted for the 
 mass, by a resolution of the magistrates, as early as the 
 year 1524; but the reformers of Zurich being unhappily 
 seized with the rage for propagating the principles of good 
 will to men, by the arguments of fire and sword, instituted 
 a protestant crusade against the neighbouring cantons of 
 Schweitz and Uris ; and, at the battle of Kappel, Zuin- 
 giius himself (1 hi. sh for the inconsistency of the minister 
 of the gospel) fella victim to misguided zeal, in defending, 
 
TRAVELS THROUGH 
 
 at the command of the magistrates, another banner than 
 that of the Prince of Peace. 
 
 The streets of Zurich are narrow and crooked, but there 
 is a beautiful little square, the court-yard of a forsaken con- 
 vent, upon the brow of a neighbouring eminence, to which 
 we often walk of an evening, to see the last beams of sun- 
 shine linger upon the white peaks that overlook the farther 
 extremity of the lake. Sometimes at high noon, in pensive 
 guise, we rove along the double rows of lime trees, which 
 border the junction of the Sill and the Limmat, and cast 
 a night of shade upon the tomb of Gessner, the pastoral 
 poet, who was buried, at his own request, in one of the 
 thickets of the grove. 
 
 In the library of Zurich is preserved the original manu- 
 script of Quintilian, from which the first modern edition 
 was printed. It was discovered, on the revival of learning, 
 together with several other unique copies of the classics, 
 aniong the musty legends of the Benedictine abbey of St. 
 Gajl, where the neglected ancients had slumbered in tran- 
 quillity a thousand years. 
 
 In the arsenal was exhibited, until the French revolu- 
 tionists destroyed the political relique, a bow and arrow 
 with which William Tell, the traditionary hero of Switzer- 
 land, was said to have shot the apple from the head of his 
 son, at tHe command of the tyrant Gessler. 
 
 Far more to be regretted, as occasioned by the same 
 event, is the premature loss of John Gaspard Lavater. The 
 reviver, or the inventor of the science of physiognomy, re- 
 ceived his death wound before bis own door, when the 
 Russians were driven out of the city by the French, in 1799, 
 though he lingered near twelve months, and retained the 
 enjoyment of his faculties sufficiently to preach a farewel 
 sermon to his beloved parishioners but a week before his 
 tranquil departure for the World of Spirits. 
 
 This speculative philanthropist was often approached 
 with trepidation by persons who dreaded to expose their 
 frailties to his penetrating eye. On such occasions he 
 would frequently remark, that no man need fear the -presence 
 of another, since every one must be conscious of his own de- 
 fects. 
 
 Lavater inhabited a modest mansion, characteristically 
 furnished with a little gazebo, which commands a court 
 leading to his parish church, every avenue of which re- 
 sounds on holidays with decent peasantry in hob-nailed 
 shoes and wooden heels, stamping along with downright 
 
SWITZERLAND AND ITALY. 
 
 iieal, to hear an antiquated ecclesiastic, starched with the 
 Vandyke frill, vociferously ejaculate the gentle admonitions 
 ©f the code of life and peace. 
 
 Though the ancient custom of saluting all strangers of 
 respectable appearance still prevails at Zurich, yet such 
 was ihe sternness of religious reformation, that the mos€ 
 formal prigs, who make a parade of uncovering themselves 
 in the street, do not scruple to sit with their hats on at 
 church ; and so little are the rules of common civility re- 
 garded in the house of prayer, that it happened to us more 
 than once to be displaced, without apology, after we had 
 taken our seats on public benches. The virtues at Zurich 
 are probably of the more substantial cast, since Lavater 
 used to say, that he had never had occasion to preach a 
 sermon against immorality. 
 
 A day or two ago we hired a clumsy Swiss chariot, com- 
 fortably lined with blue cloth, and drove slowly through 
 clouds of dust, for the weather had been long hot and dry, 
 to see the celebrated falls of the Rhine near Schaffhausen. 
 
 The river is here several hundred feet wide, and pours 
 itself with thundering impetuosity over a ledge of broken 
 rocks, forty or fifty feet high. In time of floods the water 
 sometimes rises twenty or thirty feet, and the current then 
 exhibits a rumbling torrent of terrific sublimity. 
 
 We crossed the river in a boat, a little below the fall, 
 admiring the rainbow in its spray, and ascended to the 
 castle of Lauffen, whose mouldering walls overhang the 
 cataract, keep time to its tremulous undulation, and rever 
 berate its eternal roar. 
 
 Finding we might lodge at the castle, where it is cus- 
 tomary to entertain visitors, we rambled about among the 
 rocks till night, and afterwards amused ourselves in the 
 museum with looking over an interesting collection of 
 Swiss views, the production of a family of genius which 
 inhabits this congenial site. The father sketches from na- 
 ture, and his daughters colour the designs. 
 
 The fall of Lauffen is particularly interesting by moon- 
 light. We were told that when the emperor Joseph was 
 there, he rose at midnight to contemplate the effect. It 
 was flattering to tread in imperial footsteps. We also got 
 up an hour or two before day, and ran half dressed to a 
 little summer-house which overlooks the raging torrent; 
 "but here we were impatient to be nearer, and haft running, 
 half tumbling down the rough descent, we mounted, with 
 all the eagerness of curiosity, a wooden station that has 
 
14 
 
 TRAVELS THROUGH 
 
 been erected in the very spray of the cataract, directly 
 over the boiling foam, which rises perpetually in swelling 
 surges from the roaring gulph. Here the sweeping torrent 
 seems continually advancing, without ever drawing nearer; 
 and its monotonous roar grows louder and louder to the 
 listening ear. But fair and softly. The fall of Lauffen, 
 with all its terrors, is no more than a water-spout to the 
 cataract of Niagara; by which are precipitated in one deaf- 
 ening torrent the overflow of congregated seas ; one of 
 which, lake Superior, would drown Switzerland, and ab- 
 sorb all the lakes in Europe. 
 
 LETTER 111. 
 
 PEDESTRIAN TOUR AMONG THE LESSER CANTONS. 
 
 There is a constant succession of agreeable company 
 from all parts of Europe at the genteel Table d'Hotes, in 
 Switzerland; and they are frequented, without scruple, by 
 ladies as well as gentlemen : even English travellers here 
 overcome their national aversion to a public table, and em- 
 brace, without scruple, the pleasures of general inter- 
 course, and thebenefit of mutual information. Where all 
 are strangers no one is strange; and a new comer readily 
 familiarises himself with persons in the same predicament, 
 though he has never seen them before, and may never see 
 them again. When all are supposed to be ignorant of 
 each other, nobody enquires who such a one is of another ; 
 and every traveller is too much absorbed in his own whence 
 and whither to trouble himself about other people's. 
 
 In such a situation, my B had no inclination to 
 
 expose her wavering health to the fatigues of a desultory 
 ramble from mountain to mountain, and from valley to 
 valley, and preferring the tranquil amusements of Zurich 
 to all the scenery of the Alps, she permitted her husband, 
 and a French gentleman, actuated by the same restless 
 curiosity, to fatigue themselves at leisure in a pedestrian 
 tour through the lesser cantons, so singularly isolated from 
 the rest of the world by adamantine ridges. 
 
 The cultivated tracts of the heart of Switzerland exhibit 
 little distinctive character beyond the peculiarly sheltered 
 look of broad-thatched roofs projecting over low wa)ls, and 
 
SWITZERLAND AND ITALY. 
 
 parsimoniously including under one inclosure, house, barn, 
 and stable. We therefore took coach for Berne, and must 
 have been half asleep in our stupifying conveyance, which 
 was admirably calculated for the exclusion of extensive 
 prospects, since we traversed the vallies watered by the 
 Keuss, the Limmat, and the Aar, without noticing, amidst 
 surrounding thickets, the mingled ruins of the ancient 
 Vindonissa and the modern Hapsburg, the modest patri- 
 mony of Rodolph, a Swiss baron, who became, in an age 
 less fertile than the present of political revolutions, emperor 
 of Germany, and founder of the House of Austria. 
 
 The bridge of Wettingen, celebrated as the last work of 
 Uiric Grubenman, suspended over the Limmat by an arch 
 of timber two hundred and forty feet over, was destroyed 
 by the French. It was covered by a hamge-werk, or pent- 
 house, as usual in Switzerland ; a style of finish totally de- 
 structive of picturesque effect, but it must have been the 
 widest arch in the world, excepting that which has been 
 thrown two hundred and forty-four feet over the river 
 Piscatagua, in New Hampshire, by Timothy Palmer, ano- 
 ther self-taught architect, since it somewhat exceeded the 
 justly boasted iron bridge at Sunderland, in Great Britain.* 
 
 As we passed through Hindelbaneck we stopped to see 
 the famous tomb, whose striking design has given it a cele- 
 brity to which its execution could not entitle it. The wife 
 of a pastor of the village happening to die in child-bed, 
 while an eminent statuary was employed in erecting a 
 monument for a person of quality, he conceived the sub- 
 lime idea of representing the mother bursting through a 
 flat tomb-stone, at the sound of the last trumpet, and ex- 
 claiming as she ascends to glory with the child in her 
 arms, 
 
 Herr, hier Lin ich, und das kind so du mir gogebenhast.f- 
 
 Strangers now rarely pass through the town of Hindel- 
 baneck without enquiring for the tomb of Madame Langham; 
 but the mausoleum of Count d'Erlach would never have 
 been heard of had it not been for the beautiful idea to 
 which it accidentally gave birth. 
 
 Berne I had seen before, and the houses locked as dark, 
 and the streets as solitary as ever ; the few passengers there 
 
 * The Pent y Pridd, sprung over the jjiver Taafe in Wales, by William Ed- 
 ward, in 17j6, is supposed to be the boldest stone arch in the world lt& 
 chord^ is one hundred and forty feet. 
 
 + Lord, here am I, and the shiid which thou hast given, me. 
 
16 
 
 TRAVELS THROUGH 
 
 are being hid . by the low arcades on which the houses fire 
 erected. It is almost sui rounded by the Aar, and from the 
 battlement of town you see the snowy peaks of Jungfrau- 
 horn, Schreckhorn, and Wetterhorn, rising like white 
 clouds upon the distant horizon. 
 
 The public walk rises a hundred feet perpendicular over 
 the rimpling stream; yet we were told that a man had 
 once fallen from the parapet, or jumped over it, without 
 breaking his neck. 
 
 Society is on an agreeable footing at Berne, it bein^ the 
 residence of a number of genteel families, who assemble 
 every afternoon at each others houses, and receive strangers 
 without reserve, to give a zest to their domestic amusements : 
 for the occupations of commerce are deemed degrading by 
 the petty lords of Berne ; and most of them have been long 
 enough in foreign service to have a relish for political in- 
 quiries. 
 
 Criminals are employed at Berne in useful labour to de- 
 fray the expences of their maintenance, but with too little 
 regard to their own feelings, or the sensibility of others, 
 which are equally wounded by the unnecessary exposure 
 of the unfortunate objects of public justice. 
 
 In the town ditch was formerly exhibited a sight less 
 offensive to the feelings of humanity — a succession of Al- 
 pine bears, the symbols or the supporters of the arms of 
 Berne, had been kept up from time immemorial. They 
 were cherished with religious care as the palladium of the 
 state ; but, like the eagles of Geneva, the bears of Berne, 
 have long since changed their native clime for the mena- 
 gerie of Paris, where the Gallic cock claps his new fledged 
 wings, and crows over all the beasts in Europe. 
 
 We now set out on foot, and arriving at Neufchatel, 
 thirty miles from Berne, as the setting sun glittered upon 
 its slender pinnacles, we passed the boasted town-house 
 without stopping to enquire at whose expense it was erected, 
 and when once seated at the inn, we could have dispensed 
 with our suppers in favour of our beds, which we were in 
 no hurry to quit the next morning. 
 
 Neufchatel stands upon the declivity of a hill, and the 
 neighbouring vineyards have been formed with persevering 
 industry upon the precipitous slope, by means of parallel 
 walls, whose narrow intervals are filled with earth, which 
 has been carried up in baskets from below. 
 
 After dining upon trout from the lake, without Having 
 made such minute enquiries into the state of the mani? 
 
SWITZERLAND AND ITALY. 
 
 17 
 
 factories as would have interested dealers in watches or 
 printed calicoes, or appreciated, like politicians, the pri- 
 vileges of the place, which acknowledges the sovereignty 
 and enjoys the protection of the king of Prussia, as heir to 
 its lh'ge lords, the ancient counts of Chalons, we pursued 
 our walk toward the pass of Pontarlier, a natural postern 
 in the wall of Mount Jura, like the wind-gap of the Blue 
 Ridge, near the forks of Delaware, apparently designed by 
 providence, to facilitate the intercourses of civilized life. 
 
 We should not have stopped for the night at a village 
 tifteen miles on the road to Burgundy, had we been able 
 to have reached before dark Moutiers-Travers, a moun- 
 tain hamlet, famous for its picturesque situation, and the 
 temporary residence of the celebrated John James Rous- 
 seau. 
 
 The little cluster of cottages is situated in the midst of 
 broken crags, only accessible, on the French side, by a 
 defile, so narrow, that a chain may be stretched from rock 
 to rock. In the year 14?6, at the head of a numerous 
 army, Charles the Bold, duke of Burgundy, here attempted 
 in vain, to force his way into Switzerland,, and the impe- 
 tuous prince was only more successful at the pass of Joigne, 
 to provoke defeat at the lake of Morat, and death at the 
 battle of Nancy. 
 
 Rousseau here occupied a little wooden thatch, in front 
 of which there is a narrow gallery, boarded up at the ends, 
 to shelter its humble tenants from the driving winds, which 
 often rush in tornadoes from the neighbouring gullies. 
 The eccentric philosopher had bored holes through this 
 partition, by means of which he could reconnoitre ap- 
 proaching visitors, and admit or refuse them according to 
 his humour. 
 
 From this sequestered corner issued forth upon the world 
 the Lettres tcrites de la Montague, among other productions 
 of the most fertile and fascinating pen, that ever was bran- 
 dished in the cause of infidelity. 
 
 Whilst Rousseau resided here, in a state of abject 
 poverty, the great Frederick offered him a pension of a 
 hundred a year ; but the proud philosopher refused the 
 princely boon with as much haughtiness as Diogenes him- 
 self, when the inhabitant of a tub, desired Alexander not 
 to stand in his light, as the only favour he had to ask from 
 royal munificence. 
 
 After residing three years in this secluded situation, the 
 modern cynic gave or received offence, and the unhappy 
 
 c 
 
18 TRAVELS THROUGH 
 
 victim of both real and imaginary persecutions, took re- 
 fuge in the little island of St. Pierre, in the lake of 
 Bienne, a romantic spot which we visited on our return to 
 Zurich, and were entertained at a farm house, which had 
 been formerly a convent, where the apartment of Jean 
 Jaques is still shewn to strangers, many of whom leave 
 their names and lucubrations upon the walls. 
 
 Here Rousseau thought he could have been perfectly 
 happy, and had actually begun to amuse himself with bota- 
 nical researches ; but the orthodox government of Berne 
 would not suffer the disseminator of infidelity to remain in 
 their territories, and he was obliged to seek another shelter 
 from the storms which he had himself excited. 
 
 We turned our backs, without regret, upon the verdant 
 solitude, friDged with shrubbery, and bordered with trans- 
 parent waves, although the theoretical visionary describes 
 the listless moments he spent here, sauntering about the 
 fields, or paddling in the water, unnoticed, and unem- 
 ployed, as the happiest period of his restless and eventful 
 
 life. „ , , , , 
 
 Landing upon the east side of the lake, we pursued our 
 route toward Berne. But night overtook us before we 
 reached the inn where we meant to lodge, and we walked 
 for an hour or two in the dark, losing one object of hope 
 after another, in that silent expectation which accompanies 
 the. unlooked-for delay of benighted wanderers. 
 
 At length, however, we distinguished with certainty the 
 welcome sign post, and gladly took shelter in a little 
 wirths-ham, though it was crowded with noisy topers, de- 
 veloped in clouds of smoke. „ _ . . 
 
 Next morning we rose with the lark, walked through 
 Berne before the easy cits had left their beds, breakfasted 
 on the banks of the Aar, upon a loaf of bread and a bottle 
 of wine, and brandishing our staffs, went on again with 
 fresh spirits for Thun. But as it often happens with occa- 
 sional walkers, we had by this time overdone our strength, 
 and about ten o'clock we condescended to embrace the 
 friendly relief of a Swiss light waggon, in which five or 
 six people are conveniently drawn by a single horse. 
 
 By this means we reached the place we aimed at before 
 noon, where a passage boat for the other end of the lake 
 bein<* ready for us by the time we had dined, we embarked, 
 for the village of Unterseen, ten or twelve miles distant. 
 
 We sailed the distance in a few hours, and toward even- 
 ing landed upon the narrow isthmus which separates the 
 
SWITZERLAND AND ITALY 
 
 lakes of Thun and Brientz. Grey rocks close it up on one 
 side, and on the other, the resplendent peak of Jungfrauhorn, 
 the virgin summit, that has never yet been scaled by the 
 most adventurous hunters, in pursuit of the bounding 
 marmot, or the flying chanieis. 
 
 I regretted that time would not permit our visiting the 
 glaciers in the vicinity, though I had seen those of the 
 valley of Chamoune, when I was first in Switzerland. 
 These accumulated masses of snow congealed to solid ice 
 by the alternate operations of thawing and freezing, occupy 
 the upper vallies, like, so many frozen lakes, the surface of 
 which is riven into unfathomable fissures, by the occasional 
 variations of the atmosphere. 
 
 The town of Unterseen, that occupies this sequestered 
 rock, is in perfect unison with the Alpine scenerv, with 
 which it is overhung. Its timber hovels, covered with grey 
 moss, stand in and out, back or edge, as if they had grown 
 out of the rocks, or been huddled together in haste, for 
 mutual shelter, around the jagged caves, and forked pin- 
 nacles of a grim town house. Large stones piled upon the 
 roofs, to prevent their being blown away, bespeak the vio- 
 lence of the winters winds, and projecting eaves indicate 
 the concomitant danger of being overwhelmed in drifted 
 snow. 
 
 The meagre inhabitants of this Alpine valley reconnoitred 
 our straggling party from every peep hole, and crowds of 
 women and child ren followed us through the town to satis- 
 fy their famished curiosity with the outlandish sight. 
 
 I could have spent an hour or two in fixing upon my 
 memory, the characteristic appendages of a place so roman- 
 tically wild, but night approached," and a second boat was 
 waiting for us on the lake of Brientz, to convey us to the 
 valley of Hassli. 
 
 The lake of Brientz is not so wide as that, of Thun 
 being hemmed in by stupendous precipices, which descend 
 almost perpendicularly to the water's edge, and render its 
 navigation both difficult and dangerous. 
 
 Dark clouds had already begun to roll round the loftiest 
 peaks, and as they descended along the ravines, in whelm in° 
 tornadoes, the last gleam of sunshine, pale and colourless' 
 shot a sinister ray athwart impending horrors. JNio-ht 
 closed upon us, by degrees, and we dashed from wave°to 
 wave in gloomy silence, till the moon arose in clouded 
 majesty, over the eastern ridges, and lighted us to the place 
 of our destination. 
 
TRAVELS THROUGH 
 
 The next day we laid by till afternoon, and then pro- 
 curing a guide to conduct us over the heights, we walked 
 through a mountain village, and cordially returned the 
 hearty salutations of the good people of the place, who 
 were enjoying the repose of a holiday in knots and clusters, 
 with a simplicity that recalled the fabled innocence of the 
 golden age. 
 
 In two hours we attained the summit of the ridge, which 
 separates the heretical canton of Berne, from the orthodox 
 district of Untervvalden, whose inhabitants preserve, in the 
 bosom of surrounding mountains, the minutest ceremonies 
 of the religion of their fathers. 
 
 From this commanding eminence we had a charming 
 view of the valley of Hassli, and unwillingly turned our 
 backs upon the fairy scene, studded with cottages, and 
 embroidered with alternate fields and woods, to jump after 
 our guide from rock to rock, hewn with laborious persever- 
 auce into shapeless steps, to form a practicable descent 
 into the narrow vale of Unterwalden, whose winding course 
 includes a separate system of policy, as well as religion, 
 for the government of a few hundreds of isolated moun- 
 taineers. 
 
 Literally descending from the clouds, We landed toward 
 evening upon a little plain, just big enough for a lake and 
 a village, overtopped by rugged mountains, which must 
 in winter almost totally exclude the sun. 
 
 Next morning we would gladly have procured a convey- 
 ance of some kind, but nothing half so good as a Penn- 
 sylvania market cart was to be had in the place ; and we 
 afterward discovered at our leisure, that the road, or rather 
 pathway, was too steep and stony to admit of any thing better. 
 
 We arrived however by noon at Alpnach, a straggling 
 village upon the lake of the Four Cantons, the centre of 
 this romantic country, and the scene of many a traditionary 
 tale. - 
 
 Here we took boat twelve miles on our way towa/d 
 Zurich. About half way wc passed by that arm of the lake 
 over which Lucerne displays its picturesque turrets, and saw 
 the rays of the descending sun irradiate the vapoury clouds 
 that perpetually hover round a stupendous peak of rocks, 
 which rises perpendicularly from the lake.. 
 
 We regretted missing a sight of the celebrated model 
 of this port of Switzerland, in which General Pfeifter, 
 citizen of Lucerrje, has represented with equal accuracy, 
 mountains and vallies, rivers and cataracts, cottages a»d 
 
SWITZERLAND AND ITALY. 
 
 towns, exhibiting in one view the cantons of Lucerne, Zug, 
 Berne, Uri, Schweitz, and Unterwalden ; but we were now 
 in haste to return to Zurich, where i was by this time 
 impatiently expected. 
 
 Next morning therefore we continued our route on foot, 
 after stopping to contemplate a little chapel erected on the 
 spot where (according to tradition, in despite of the silence 
 of history) Tell shot the tyrant Gessler, and asserted the 
 liberties of his country. - Over the entrance are the follow- 
 ing quaint but ominous lines :■ — 
 
 Ilier ist Gessler's hochmuth vom Tell erchosscn 
 Unci der Schweitzer edle freiheit tntsprossen 
 Wie lang wird aber solche w&hren 
 Nocli king wann wir die Aelte waren.* 
 
 Arriving at the lake of Zug, surrounded by hanging 
 vineyards and cultivated fields, we took boat again for the 
 capital of the canton, and continuing our walk fifteen miles 
 further, across fields and plains, we again reached Zurich, 
 after having made a circuit of three hundred miles, the 
 greatest part of which had been performed an foot, with an 
 advantage of observation, richly worth the purchase of 
 fatigue. 
 
 LETTER IV 7 . 
 
 JOURNEY ACROSS MOUNT ST. COTHARD TO M J LAN. — DE- 
 SCRIPTION OF THE CATHEDRAL. 
 
 We had now nothing more pressing than to prepare 
 for Italy, and on the 1st of September, we took coach for 
 Branner, a little village on the lake of the Four Cantons, 
 where we arrived next day at noon, after passing through, 
 a rugged and mountainous country, J/hick set with com- 
 fortable farm houses, as in the settled parts of the United 
 States. 
 
 Passing by Schweitz, the capital of a small canton of 
 the same name, we were struck with the picturesque effecr. 
 
 * Here the proud tyrant Gessler fell, 
 And liberty was won by Tell. 
 Houu long wli't last, you ask, and tremble— 
 Long as the Swiss their sires resemble. - A 
 5 
 
TRAVELS THROUGH 
 
 of the clouds, which had gathered in circling volumes 
 round the body of an isolated mountain, while its rocky 
 summit, invisibly supported in the air, glowed with the warm 
 refulgence of a noon-day sun. 
 
 At Brannen, where the cantons of Urix, Schweitz, and 
 Unterwalden, first allied themselves by a defensive treaty, 
 we took boat for Fluellen, rowing between rugged moun- 
 tains, shagged with firs. Among them we frequently es- 
 pied cubic cottages, surrounded with little patches of cul- 
 tivation, perched at such tremendous heights, upon the 
 very edge of overhanging precipices, that we couldfscarcely 
 contemplate them without apprehensions that some of the 
 little boxes would slide off their shelving ledges, and come 
 down upon our heads. 
 
 One of these cultivated specks actually fell into the lake 
 not long since, together with its little tenement, and all that 
 it contained. 
 
 At the foot of a neighbouring ridge is the valley of Gerisan, 
 which forms the smallest republic in Europe. It can only 
 be approached by water, and the Lilliputian commonwealth 
 is little more than two leagues in length, yet it contains 
 twelve hundred souls, among whom sumptuary laws would 
 be superfluous, since the keeping of a saddle horse is there 
 an unknown luxury. 
 
 Near the upper end of the lake, a little chapel appears 
 upon the left ; it is erected upon the very spot, says tradition, 
 where Tell escaped from his persecutors, when they were 
 conveying him to prison. As the boat coasted the shore to 
 avoid arising tempest, the hero jumpted out upon the rocks 
 at a desperate leap, and mocked the tardy pursuit of his 
 conductors. 
 
 We landed to contemplate the venerated spot, and found 
 the walls of the chapel rudely painted with the real or 
 imaginary exploits of the patron of Switzerland. — Recol- 
 lecting with patriotic sensations the reception of William 
 Penn, at Shackamaxon, in the wig-wam of king Tammany. 
 
 We disembarked at Fluellen, the port of communication 
 between Switzerland and Italy, for the exchange of cattle 
 and cheese against rice, silk stuffs, &c. and walked a mile 
 or two to Altdorf, the capital of Uri. A place that was 
 burnt by the French, when they retreated before the Rus- 
 sians in 1799- It is now rapidly rebuilding in a good modern 
 stile, which gives it the lively air of an American town, 
 new houses rising on all sides, beneath thick groves, pie- 
 served as a security from falling avalanches. 
 
SWITZERLAND AND ITALY. 
 
 The venerable tree was long preserved in the market- 
 place of Altdorf, to which the son of the hero of Switzer- 
 land was bound with thongs, when the father shot the apple 
 from the head of his son, and told the enquiring tyrant for 
 zchom he intended another arrow — if he had missed his aim. 
 
 From hence we sent forward our baggage to Andermat, 
 in the valley of Urseren, being resolvecUo ascend St. Goth- 
 ard, at our leisure, on foot. 
 
 A walk of seven miles, through a pleasant valley, watered 
 by the recess, brought us to the foot of the mountain, from 
 whence it is near twenty miles to the hermitage on its 
 summit. 
 
 We dined at a rural inn, and in the afternoon began to 
 ascend the elevated spine of the Alps, by a winding road 
 that skirts the precipices which overhang a roaring torrent, 
 as it descends from the crown level, and forms one of the 
 sources of the Rhine. It is frequently concealed from the 
 sight by dark firs, among which, in alternate shade and sun- 
 shine, we met long trains of mules loaded with Italian 
 luxuries, tracing a zig-zag course, in opposite directions. 
 
 At the end of five or six miles we reached Wasen, a 
 wretched village, situated among awful rocks. The inn 
 was already taken up by French soldiers. There was there- 
 fore no alternative, but to beg a night's lodging in the 
 neighbourhood. A hopeless errand, you'll say, without the 
 language of the country to explain our wants; but the 
 first door I knocked at, was opened with an accommodating 
 air, and I have since been pleased that the occasion had 
 once occurred to prove the native hospitality of a Swiss 
 cottage. 
 
 Next morning, before we pursued our journey, I followed 
 the peasants of the village to a little chapel, where an art- 
 less priest was celebrating the morning mass. I was there 
 shocked for the first time, with a sight very common in 
 catholic countries, 1 mean an open charnel house, in which 
 gaping sculls are indecently exposed to view, for the pur- 
 pose of exciting commiseration for the souls in purgatory. 
 A horrid custom, peculiarly to be regretted in these Alpine 
 valleys, where the ceremonies of religion are the principal 
 amusements of the secluded inhabitants, and the knelling 
 bell is the only sound that interrupts the monotony of soli- 
 tude. 
 
 We now applied ourselves to ascend the barren valley of 
 Schoellenen, insensible of fatigue, engrossed as we were by 
 the stupendous objects, with which we were surrounded, 
 
TRAVELS THROUGH 
 
 every now and then encountering, not without a slight 
 tincture of apprehension, straggling parties of disbanded 
 soldiers returning from Italy, and shivering with cold, while 
 we were sweltering with heat. The poor fellows were only 
 three days from Milan, where they told us it was too hot 
 to stir in the day time, or to sleep at night, as we sometimes 
 have it in America, when the wind is from the south. 
 
 Now and then a capuchin friar, with his beard and 
 sandals, gave peculiar interest to the Alpine scenery. 
 
 After winding about for some hours round perpendicular 
 rocks, which seemed to have been cleft asunder on purpose 
 to form the tortuous passage, strong puffs of wind, accom- 
 panied with spray, warned us before we could see it of our 
 approach to the foaming cataract, over which has been 
 thrown an aerial arch, called the Devil's Bridge. 
 
 This tremendous pass was obstinately disputed by the 
 French, when General Suwarrow entered Switzerland, at 
 the head of 20,000 men. A small body of French troops, 
 retreating before superior force, had destroyed the bridge 
 behind them, and they continued to defend the yawning 
 gulph against the murderous fire of the invaders, until a few 
 planks slightly fastened together with officers scarfs, were 
 thrown across the breach, and the dauntless corps, the 
 greatest part of which had by this lime fallen into the pre- 
 cipice they defended, was overpowered by numbers, rushing 
 desperately over the frightful chasm, the crevices of which 
 were heaped with the bodies of the slain. 
 
 The object of Suwarrow was to form a junction with 
 the Russian and Austrian forces, then encamped in the 
 neighbourhood of Zurich. But they had been defeated by 
 Massena, at the critical juncture, and the Russian veteran 
 was fain to throw his artillery into the lakes, and effect his 
 retreat across ridges till then deemed impassable by any 
 thing but goats. 
 
 After crossing the bridge, this singular road enters a sub- 
 terraneous passage, which has been cut several hundred 
 feet through the solid rock, from whose midnight darkness 
 you suddenly emerge upon broad day light, in the valley of 
 Urseren, an opening scene of pastoral tranquillity, in which, 
 at a little distance, appears the village of Andermat, shelter- 
 ed by a ridge of firs, the only trees that will grow in so 
 elevated and confined a situation. 
 
 The vale of Urseren is 4000 feet above the level of the 
 sea, and it is probably the highest spot in the world, in- 
 habited by twelve hundred people. They would be totally 
 
SWITZERLAND AND ITALY* ^5 
 
 Separated from the rest of mankind, if it was not for theT 
 winding mule path, whklj has here crossed the Alps, eve 
 Slice the days of Julius Caesar, who ts said to have first 
 surmounted the stupendous barrier. 
 
 This is now one of the easiest and most frequented passes 
 into Italy, and it is practicable at all times of the year, 
 though sometimes under drifts of .now through which the 
 neighbouring peasants are constantly employed to keep the 
 
 10 We P had no sooner recovered from the fatigue we had 
 undergone, than we set out on an excursion into the country 
 of the & Orisons. The first village of which though but 
 twelve miles distant, is so completely separated from Ander- 
 mat by roc ks and mountains piled upon one another, till 
 thev literally reach the clouds, that the inhabitants speak 
 a different language, which preserves to this day a number 
 of Latin words and phrases, received from their Roman con- 
 querors, two thousand years ago. 
 
 From the top of a mountain on our way between snowy 
 summits, rising like a boundless ocean, wave beyond wave, 
 we had an interesting prospect of 
 
 Those billy regions where, embraced 
 
 In peaceful vales, the happy Gnsons dwell,* 
 
 under the characteristic or endearing appellations of The 
 grey League. The League of Ten Jurisdictions, — or, lhe 
 league of God's House. . 
 
 Such is here the transparent purity of the air, that the 
 sky assumes a peculiar blue. Immense glaciers glittered 
 around us in sparkling sunshine, and from the nearest 
 of them, we felt the wind so sharp and piercing, that we 
 were insensible of fatigue, though we had been clambering 
 for hours up frightful precipices. But my B- had un- 
 fortunately sprained her ancle, in endeavouring to spare 
 her supporter, and before we could reach lavetch in the 
 valley of Sopra Selva, she was hardly able to lift her right 
 foot from the ground. 
 
 At the inn, or rather ale-house, which was not distin- 
 guished, even by a bush, from the private houses of the 
 village we found a jolly Benedictine from the abbey or 
 Dissentis, a lordly monastery, which has been destroyed by 
 the French. He was a son of the family, and now lived 
 
 * Thomson. 
 
TRAVELS THROUGH 
 
 devotion, by the gliding Sgbt JT^I^ 
 
 A few men attended in a corner, who ioin^d \ t >h 
 responses with languid indifference ' 1 PP J Jv be tw en 
 
 found in fH 8 J-ff hlDg DC T' , nd P erh *P s the cause might be 
 living ™ dlfference of th eir constitutions, and mode of 
 
 I u lhe act 'r-P a,t for ^hich men are fitted and 
 Wbich they are obliged to take in the perplexing affairs of 
 
 ife, naturally absorbs the attention in a wetter decree 
 than the tranquil round of f^ale avocatiol^wWct^ 
 ever necessary, or laborious in domestic economy, leave 
 religTon/ " 01 '^ ,beitJ t0 diSpOSe it8elf for the d ^s of 
 In this secluded valley, shaded by frowning ridees from 
 
 he noon-day sun, trees degenerate into buWs^and the 
 little rye or barley that is only ripened with unremitting 
 attention, must be dried rather by cold than hea™ upSI 
 
 Tgltl ' WhlCh laiSe hai VCSt t0 search" 
 
 On our return to Andermat, the weather became cold 
 and rainy, and we gladly embraced the first opportunity to 
 make our escape out of the uncomfortable valley, over 
 of the year?' " whelmin S fo g s > «ght or nine months 
 A rough ascent ; of six or seven miles, during which we pass- 
 ed at intervals through dripping clouds, whieh magnified 
 the savage horrors of perpendicular precipices, and leaping 
 cataracts, brought us to the shaggy summit of St. GotharcP 
 or rather to the stony level 6000 feet high, on which is the* 
 Hospice surround by insulated crags of granite, the frag- 
 ments of a broken world, over which the friendly power of 
 vegetation has never been able to spread its verdant mantle. 
 
 We gladly left behind us the misty vapours from which 
 the north side of the mountain is seldom clear, and were 
 rejoiced to find the weather brighten upon us, as we descend- 
 ed into warmer climes, by a zig-zag road, frequently overhang- 
 ing tremendous precipices, that form the bed of the TessinS 
 
SWITZERLAND AND ITALY. 
 
 27 
 
 a branch of the Po, which, with the sources of the Rhine 
 and the Rhone, here take their rise within a day's journey 
 of each other. But we were- now too much panic struck to 
 philosophise upon their various course to distant oceans, for 
 
 my B * was obliged by her sprain, to descend the stony 
 
 ladder on horse-back, and a single mis-step would have 
 endangered her life. 
 
 We were glad to arrive with whole bones at Airolo, still, 
 in a Swiss bailliage, though in a different climate, where 
 the people speak another language, in tones of harmony, 
 to ears which had long been deafened with discordant dia- 
 lects. 
 
 The remaining descent into the plains of Lombardy by 
 the Val Lavantin, is singularly romantic and picturesque; 
 it has been in several places broken by art or nature through 
 perpendicular ledges of rock, overhung with spiry larches 
 and weeping birch. Now and then it winds round pro- 
 digious masses of solid stone, some of which had been 
 moulded by the hand of nature into the artificial forms of 
 domes, pyramids, and amphitheatres, gracefully enriched 
 with pendant shrubbery. 
 
 Being no mineralogist, I cannot entertain you with 
 physical disquisitions upon the nature of quartz, mica, 
 schorl, or feld-spar, with which these ridges abound, or 
 give you a description of the various specimens of the pre- 
 cious metals, which are found in the beds of the torrents ; 
 but you will excuse the defect, as mineralogy is little 
 studied in America. There wejiave enough to do to clear 
 the surface, without penetrating into the bowels of the 
 earth. 
 
 Near Giornico, the place where in 1478, six hundred 
 Swiss repulsed with great slaughter, fifteen thousand Mila- 
 nese, we met a French general officer, attended by his 
 aid-de-camps, and a troop of horse; and the citizen-gene- 
 ral saluted our party with all the urbanity of the old school, 
 notwithstanding the motley appearance of a cavalcade, part 
 of which was dismounted, and the rest ready to halt. 
 
 Vegetation is here astonishingly luxuriant, the chesnut 
 trees in particular attaining a prodigious size. Plantations 
 of hemp and flax overspread the plain, while grey convents 
 and mossy cells, occupy, with appropriate seclusion, the 
 neighbouring peaks. 
 
 As the valley grew wider, the descent became less diffi- 
 cult, and being now no longer apprehensive for the safety 
 
 of my B , who was by this time well-mounted, I di- 
 
 b 2 
 
fig 
 
 TRAVELS THROUGH 
 
 reeled our attendants to go on with the baggage, that we 
 might loiter along, in our own way, refreshing ourselves, 
 at pleasure, under mantling vines, with which the road wa« 
 frequently overhung. 
 
 After a while, however, the foot path struck across a 
 meadow, and the horse-way insensibly wound out of sight. 
 In the mean time night came on, and the two ways met no 
 more till they reached together the gates of Bellingona. 
 There my impatient enquiries produced no intelligence of 
 the solitary wanderer, and I hurried on to the inn, dis- 
 tracted with apprehensions for the partner of my heart. 
 Judge of my happiness when 1 found her at the door, ex- 
 pecting my arrival, without anxiety, and less disposed than 
 myself to reflect upon the inattention which had separated 
 us for several miles in the recesses of an Alpine valley. 
 
 The walls of Bellingona separate this beautiful valley 
 from the plains of Italy, against which it is defended by 
 the castles of the Regent Cantons, three keys, with which 
 it was easy to lock up the Val Lavantina, when the dukeg 
 of Milan disputed the doubtful pretences of Uri, Schweitz, 
 and Unterwalden, to give laws beyond the Alps. 
 
 The Tessino now runs right across a sandy plain, till it 
 reaches the Lago Maggiore, a broad and beautiful expanse 
 of water, bordered by lofty mountains, whose dark sides 
 are deeply shaded by vineyards and chesnut groves, through 
 which appear at intervals, the white fronts of towns and 
 villas, reflected with undiminished brightness, in the crys- 
 tal mirror of the lake. 
 
 At the first fishing village we took boat for the Borro- 
 mean islands, fondly hastening to exchange the dingy 
 valley of Urseren, for the verdant paradise of the Lago 
 Maggiore. 
 
 Isola Bella, the first of these celebrated islands, came 
 in view toward evening, as we turned a point of land, fea- 
 thered to the waters' edge with aromatic shrubbery. The 
 fairy vision seemed to rise out of the lake, like an enchanted 
 castle, flanked to the right and left with storied terraces, 
 and long arcades. 
 
 Isola Madre soon appeared, ak a little distance, and mo- 
 destly unveiled its milder graces, elegantly skreened from 
 the eye of day, by lattice work and curling vines. 
 
 Attracted by the artificial splendour of Isola Bella, we 
 landed at the foot of the palace, which, however, we did 
 not enter, as it were upon a nearer view, the forbidding 
 aspect of partial dilapidation; and impatiently rambling 
 
SWITZERLAND AND ITALT. 
 
 over the measured islet, we wondered to find ourselves so 
 soon weary of pacing over its formal walks, and covered 
 vistas, though they are lined with oranges and citrons, 
 bending under the golden fruit, and bordered or terminated, 
 with spouting fountains, and gigantic statuary. 
 
 Behind this glittering prison, we beheld with commisera- 
 tion, a fishing village, the meagre inhabitants of which 
 appeared to us to have been crowded into the lake, to 
 make room for an overgrown landlord to stretch his legs in 
 three or four times in the year. 
 
 We quitted these celebrated islands without regret, and 
 stopped for the night at a neighbouring town, where we 
 had the next morning in an extravagant bill, the first gross 
 specimens of Italian imposition, which J. have since learned 
 to dispute, by dint of practice. 
 
 Here, however, having left the mountains behind us, 
 we again saw the sun rise upon a distant horison, accom- 
 panied with the brilliant colouring of an Italian sky. 
 
 We found that we had quilted the protection of the hero 
 Tell, for the mediation of St. Anthony, of Padua; and we 
 passed, in prosecuting our voyage to Sesto, a bronze statue 
 of San Carlo Boromeo, tall enough to serve for a steeple 
 to a seminary of priests, founded by him at Arona, the place 
 of his nativity. The munificent nephew of Pius the Fourth 
 does not appear to have been troubled with the squeamish 
 idea of the man of Ross, 
 
 Who builds a church to God, and not to fame, 
 Will never mark the marble with his name.* 
 
 I recollect nothing more interesting till we reached Mi- 
 lan ; in the low grounds, about which a great deal of rice 
 is raised, some parts of them are said to be not less than 
 eighty feet below the surface of the Lago Maggiore ; they 
 can therefore be watered at pleasure, like the savanahs of 
 Louisiana ; and the grass produced by this profuse irri- 
 gation is said to be cut as often as five or six times in a 
 year. 
 
 Milan is a large and populous town, but not very plea- 
 sant to a stranger, from the lowness of its situation, and the 
 narrowness and dampness of its streets. 
 
 It was often, however, the temporary residence of the 
 Roman emperors, when in the decline of the empire, they 
 
 # Pope, 
 
50 
 
 TRAVELS THROUGH 
 
 found it necessary to defend their frontiers from the in- 
 cursions of the Barbarians. In one of the streets may sti ! I 
 be seen a Doric colonnade, of Roman antiquity ; and in the 
 church of St. Ambrose, the ant iquated choir is yet inclosed 
 b\' the identical bronze gates, which the holy Father is said 
 t<9 have shut with indignation in .the face of the emperor 
 Theodosius, on account of the massacre at Thessalonica. 
 
 In the refectory of the convent of Santa Maria della 
 Graeie is the celebrated Last Supper, of Leonardo da Vinci, 
 much damaged by time, probably more by injudicious re- 
 pairs ; here is not now a single fine head in the groupe ; 
 and, among the twelve communicants, you are ready to 
 suspect half a dozen Judas's instead of one. — A story goes, 
 that the painter, provoked by the parsimony of the prior, put 
 Mm down for the disciple that carried the bag. 
 
 The cathedral of Milan is an immense pile of Gothic ar- 
 chitecture, executed at an incredible expence in white 
 marble. It was begun about four hundred years ago, but 
 the front of it is still unfinished, though the building has 
 been riehly endowed with posthumous donations, and large 
 sums were annually expended on it, until the Revolution, 
 by the devout House of Austria. 
 
 -The sides of this superb edifice are ornamented with an 
 amazing number of statues — how many I shall not say, as I 
 did not count them ; and wonders of that nature are too 
 generally exaggerated to be taken on report. Suffice it that 
 the steeple has been completely finished in the richest open 
 work. Figured buttresses and storied pinnacles support, 
 or seem to support a spiral stair-case, which terminates in 
 a cone. It is surmounted by a colossal statue of the Virgin 
 Mary, at the foot of which there is a boundless prospect 
 of the plains of Lombardy, from the Alps to the Apen- 
 nines. 
 
 The interior of this majestic edifice is strikingly impres- 
 sive of religious veneration. Its dark and lofty arcades are 
 drawn into undistinguishable length by five dim aisles. 
 They open into the secluded choir, embowed with ribbed 
 arches and clustered columns, between which painted win- 
 dows of prodigious magnitude are scarcely penetrated by 
 rays of coloured light, sufficiently to render visible scarlet 
 canopies and painted banners, suspended in the dusky air. 
 
 Beneath the high altar is an open stairway, descending 
 to a subterraneous chapel, in which is deposited in a chrys- 
 tal shrine the body of Sun Carlo, and the history of the 
 
SWITZERLAND AND ITALY. 31 
 
 Saint was once narrated upon the walls in bas-reliefs of 
 solid silver. s Ui 
 
 Returning to the twilight of the nave, its twinkling lamps 
 serve but to make darkness visible, and the Ions arcades 
 drippmg with the dampness of a vault, reverberate the 
 solitary footstep, or the slamming door. 
 
 I leave you to conceive the effect of a Te Deum chaunted, 
 at the command of the conqueror, within the chillino- re- 
 cesses of such a catacomb, when the battle of MarenL^had 
 
 Sfgtavt emy th ° USand ° f fellow - creatu ^ ioan un- 
 
 LETTER V. 
 
 A BIRD'S EYE VIEW OF SWITZERLAND 
 
 HAVING traversed on foot the greatest part of Switzer- 
 land, the prominent features of that romantic country have 
 left an impression on my imagination that can , eve r be 
 obliterated, however faintly I may trace the majestic out 
 lnrtop^ a 'y; S " eJe ^-'^---tforbeaf^'tem;: 
 Ascending then to the necessary elevation in the pendant 
 cradle of an a,r balloon, since the discoverie^of ICt" 
 fier have enabled the moderns to realize the fabled ffi, 
 of antiquity, the thirteen cantons of the Swiss confederacy 
 extending two hundred miles from east to west, and a hun' 
 dred and thirty from north to south, would 1 e at the feet 
 of a soaring aeronaut, who might look down witl e^se and 
 safety upon the tremendous precipices of Der Schreckhora 
 (the peak of terror) surrounded at unequal dis tances bv 
 piral protuberances of solid granite, wlLe perpendLlar 
 strata would be seen to rise out of a troubled ocean of snow 
 and ice, in the shape of battered pyramids, and brokel 
 obelisks, now whelmed in clouds, reverberating thun dei 
 now penetrating in unbroken silence, the ambient air ' 
 Fai beneath these stupendous crags would be seen at 
 and'vil S ' ^« vales anJ mn ^ Studd ^ with town 
 and-vil ages, whose slender spiracles plated with tin wc u d 
 glnter in the sun, while the ^unta.n^torrenT or the W^h 
 way of the heath, would ghew a streak of s ilve" ££££ 
 
3£ TRAVELS THItOUGJl 
 
 the winding valley, or traversing, with maiked direction, 
 the extended plain. , - . 
 
 The lake of Constance would limit the fairy scene on 
 the north-east, and on the south-west the lucid crescent 
 which receives the Rhone from the Pais de Vallais, and 
 imperceptibly conveys it by Lausanne (the calm retirement 
 10 which Gibbon contemplated the decay ot empires) to 
 pierce the walls of Geneva, and join the torrent ot the 
 
 Al Oiit he north, the green current of the Rhine, like the 
 coloured pencilling of a map, would mark the confines o 
 Germany f on the west the blue ridge of Mount Jura would 
 distinguish it from France, and on the south from Italy, the 
 long chain of Alpine summits whitened with ice and snow. 
 
 Among the central peaks of St. Gothard would be seen 
 to issue from transparent glaciers the Rhine, the Rhone, 
 and a source of the Po, descending in bright cascades to 
 -irrigate the plains of Europe, and empty themselves into 
 the Atlantac, the Mediterranean, or the Adriatic Gulph. 
 
 In the heart of this chaos of rocks and woods, m who* 
 profound recesses hardy swains, descended from aboriginal 
 mountaineers, had quietly submitted to the German yoke 
 ever since the decline of the Roman empire, in the ; year 
 one thousand three hundred and eight W erner de Stauf- 
 facen of Schweitz, Walter Furst ot Un, and Arnold de 
 MelchthalofUnterwalden, a patriotic triumvirate, devised 
 and effected the independence of their country, by expel- 
 ling the proconsular tyrants, whose growing impositions 
 bad at length become insupportable. t 
 
 The emperor Albert, then reigning, was assassinated by 
 his own nephew, John of Hapsburg, as he was preparing 
 to quell the insurrection, and the insurgents 
 such strength by the time that Leopold duke of A«st»ia 
 marched against the confederated cantons, in 1315, that 
 Sirteen hundred Swiss defended the pass of Morgasten 
 against twenty thousand Austrians, and repulsed the in- 
 vaders with dreadful slaughter. 
 
 The cantons of Uri, Schweitz, and Unterwalden, now 
 contracted a perpetual alliance, that became the foundation 
 of the Helvetic confederacy, which was successively ac- 
 ceded to, for mutual defence, by the neighbouring cantons 
 of Zurich, Glarus, Zug, Berne, Lucerne, Fnburgh, So- 
 leure, SchafThausen, Basil, and Appenzel. A motley in- 
 termixture of aristocratic and democratic republics, which 
 maintained their independence, and preserved inviolate the 
 
SWITZERLAND AND ITALY. 
 
 advantages ; and the defects of their antiquated constitu- , 
 lions, till the compact of five hundred years was dissolved 
 in a moment by the seducing professions of a modern de- 
 mocracy, to whose gigantic empire the Swiss cantons now 
 form an insignificant appendage. 
 
 Yet a free and equal citizen of the American republic, 
 whether naturalized or native born, Can see but little to 
 regret in the exchange of a despotic oligarchy, for a foreign 
 dictator, of oppressive prescriptions, for forced loans, of 
 national independence, for individual emancipation. 
 
 The narrow policy of Swiss republicanism, perhaps the 
 natural defect of popular constitutions, formed when the 
 principles of liberty were little understood, even by the 
 people themselves, confined the privileges of burghership 
 to a few families, excluding all others, natives as well as 
 strangers, not merely from the honorary claim of electing, 
 or being elected, to places of trust or profit, but from the 
 essential rights of buying and selling, of establishing a 
 manufactory, or exercising a handicraft.* 
 
 In some places a new citizen had not been admitted 
 within a hundred and fifty years, and a candidate must 
 have then resided in the place at least ten ; if he was a na- 
 tive of another canton, twenty; but if a foreigner, the 
 qualifying period was again doubled, and he was obliged to 
 pay double the usual fine upon admission. In others, when 
 the rights of citizenship had been purchased at a great ex- 
 pence, it was only to the third generation that the sparing 
 clause accorded the privileges of eligibility to any office in 
 the state. 
 
 Yet under the ancient system, with all its defects, the 
 patient Swiss were remarkable for that love of country 
 which is observed to be most powerful in those parts of the 
 WOrld that have a strongly marked or peculiar character, to 
 which the youthful imagination irresistibly attaches the 
 growing passions. 
 
 Thus a poetic traveller has observed, with equal truth and 
 beauty of the Swiss peasant, struggling with innumerable 
 hardships, 
 
 * In America, the love of equal freedom has carried the liberal frames 
 of our constitutions to the opposite extreme. The rapid influx ot foreigner:,, 
 admitted almost without restriction to every privilege ot citizenship, may 
 imperceptibly alienate the public councils, as well as the national manners 
 of our peaceful country. 
 
 SWITZERLAND.] * 
 
34 
 
 TRAVELS THROUGH 
 
 Denr is that shed to which his soul conforms, 
 And dear that hill which lifts him to the storms.* 
 
 Such accordingly was the patriotic emotion which a fa- 
 miliar, called the llanz des vaches, never failed to excite 
 in the breasts of Swiss troops in foreign service, that the 
 Milk Maid's Carol was forbidden under the several penal- 
 ties, as being sure to produce among them discontent or 
 desertions. 
 
 Switzerland is a triangular rock in the centre of Europe, 
 inhabited by two millions of moral and industrious people, 
 catholic or protestant, according to the boundaries of their 
 canton, and speaking as their national language, German, 
 French, or Italian, according to the frontier thcv approxi- 
 mate. 
 
 It includes, at different degrees of elevation, the tempe- 
 rature of every climate, from the frozen circle to the burn- 
 ing zone, and the delighted naturalist inriy there trace, in 
 the succession of a morning walk, the various productions 
 of Italy, Germany, and Lapland. 
 
 An elevation of thirty fathoms is' equal to a degree of 
 distance from the equator. At twelve or thirteen hundred 
 fathoms (seven or eight thousand feet) you experience the 
 frigidity of the eightieth degree of north latitude, and at 
 nine thousand feet above the level of the sea, snow rarely 
 melts, even in the height of summer, a degree of cold 
 in which nothing will vegetate but mosses and lichens. 
 
 Yet the general impression perceived by those who 
 ascend the higher mountains is an unknown facility in 
 breathing, a lightness of body, and a serenity of mind. 
 The air is felt to be more pure and subtile, and meditation 
 there enjoys a degree of sensibility approaching tranquil 
 rapture. 
 
 ; Mont Blanc, and several other summits of the great 
 chain of the Alps, are fifteen thousand feet high, and' may 
 be considered as the highest mountains in the old world, 
 since they considerably exceed the elevation of Mount 
 Etna and the Peak of Teneriffe, but they yield the prece- 
 dence, without dispute to Chimberazzo, in South America, 
 which is at least twenty thousand feet, or four miles, in per- 
 pendicular altitude, and whose frigid summit has never 
 been attained by the boldest adventurers. It is, perhaps, 
 for ever inaccessible to the researches of philosophy, since 
 the human frame is incapable of supporting the rarefaction 
 
 * Goldsmith. 
 
SWITZERLAND AND ITALY. 
 
 35 
 
 of the atmosphere at a much smaller elevation than that of 
 tiie summits of the Ancles. 
 
 We are informed by a scientific observer, that fossil shells,, 
 and other marine petrefactions, are found in the Alps and 
 Pyrenees, as high as nine thousand feet above the level of 
 the sea. Beyond these secondary mountains ride naked 
 rocks, which contain nothing but the simplest aggregations 
 of mineral substances, and would therefore appear to have 
 emerged from the waters bofore the creation of the aquatic 
 tribes. 
 
 The crags of Switzerland abound with rock crystal, 
 which is industriously collected by the peasants to orna- 
 ment the cabinets of the curious, and mines of iron and 
 quarries of rock salt are worked in different vallies, for 
 foreign and dqmestic consumption. 
 
 The lakes teem with fish, particularly trout, which have 
 been sometimes caught weighing forty or fifty pounds. 
 
 Goats browze upon the edge of the precipices, and thefr 
 picturesque forms are seen to follow each other, Indian 
 file, up and down the loftiest crags. 
 
 But the cultivation of the farinaceous grains is here of 
 such uncertain product, that public granaries are establish- 
 ed in every town, in which a stock of corn is regularly 
 supplied by France and Holland, under express treaties 
 stipulating a certain number of soldiers to be annually 
 raised out of the surplus population of a country that is not 
 capable of supporting the natural increase of its inha- 
 bitants. 
 
 The staple commodity of Switzerland is horned cattle ; 
 for a rocky pasturage encircles the very foot of the glaciers, 
 and descends with increasing luxuriance into the shady 
 vales, watered by translucent rivulets, which, flowing from 
 icy sources, are then most plentiful when the neighbour- 
 ing plains are parched with heat and drought. 
 
 But the limpid spring is often impregnated with tufts, 
 whose tendency to concrete among the glands of the neck, 
 aided perhaps by the concentrated heat and stagnant eva- 
 poration of narrow vallies, frequently produces wenny pro- 
 tuberances, and sometimes mental imbecility. Now and. 
 then thundering avalanches break without warning from 
 over-hanging orows, and bury at once, beneath hills of 
 snow, the tranquil cottage, and the crystal stream. 
 
 These, however, are rare calamities : they must not be 
 supposed to hinder the current of common life from gliding 
 smoothly along the vale of domestic felicity, since misery 
 
 E 2 
 
36 
 
 TRAVELS THROUGH 
 
 is an intruding beldame, whose prominent features force 
 themselves upon the sight, while happiness, like a retiring 
 maiden, must be courted to be seen. 
 
 LETTER VI. 
 
 'JOURNEY FROM MILAN TO FLORENCE, ACROSS THE 
 APEN NINES. 
 
 1 RAVELLING in Italy may be performed by post, by 
 voiture, or by procache; but this alternative, apparently 
 so liberal, is nothing more than a choice of difficulties. By 
 post you must have your own carriage, and put yourself 
 under the direction of a travelling lacquey. By voiture 
 you must take up with chance company, and be content to 
 creep forward at the rate of three miles an hour. By pro- 
 cache you must be trailed along in a string of coaches till 
 you reach fixed stages, though you should drive every night 
 till bed-time, and turn out every morning before day, fret- 
 ted with scanty fare and sordid lodging. In your own 
 carriage, as in that of the vettorino, "you run the risk of 
 robbery and assasination, an inconvenience ''from which you 
 are secured in the caravan of the procache by a guard of 
 soldiers, allotted by the feeble government of Italy for the 
 protection of public stages. 
 
 For those who do not speak Italian, and are not in haste, 
 the voiture is the least exceptionable conveyance of the 
 three, since the advantage of an interpreter upon the road, 
 and a paymaster at the inns, fully compensates an unprac- 
 tised stranger for the tedium of delay. 
 
 The voiture is a clumsy coach drawn by three mules, and 
 conducted by a vettorino, who rides post upon one of them. 
 They ply for travellers at the principal inns, and set out 
 from town to town, as often as four seats are engaged, the 
 vettorino furnishing every night a supper and a bed. 
 
 To avoid the importunacy of indifferent company, and at 
 the same time to spare ourselves the necessity of disputing 
 the ground, inch by inch, with inn-keepers and post-boys, 
 we took a voiture to ourselves for Bologna, at the foot of 
 the Apennines. 
 
 An Italian vettorino, however, only undertakes to guard 
 you from the impositions of others— his own are not in-, 
 eluded in the convenient exemption. 
 
SWITZERLAND AND ITALY. 
 
 37 
 
 Accordingly, at the moment of setting forward, while I 
 was discharging the extravagant bill of the landlord, and 
 satisfying the expectations of the till then inattentive 
 waiters, our civil coachman ushered in without ceremony a 
 Dominican friar, in the weeds of his order, and asked my 
 consent to his going along with us ; not as you may sup- 
 pose on condition of paying me for his seat, but that he 
 (honest fellow) might be paid for it over again, at the ex- 
 pence of that verij convenience for which 1 had expressly 
 stipulated. 
 
 It grieved me to the heart to deny the good father, who 
 urged his suit with a humility becoming his profession ; but 
 my mind was made up before he opened his plea, and I 
 insisted upon my bargain to have the carriage to ourselves. 
 
 Quitting Milan the 23d of September, we had the plea- 
 sure of beholding the plains of Lombardy clothed in their 
 autumnal livery. The fields of grain, or grass, were striped 
 with those beautiful poplars lately introduced into America 
 by a patriotic traveller,* and embroidered with grape vines, 
 which, as in the days of Virgil, hung in gay festoons from 
 tree to tree, and gracefully displayed their purple clusters 
 under half concealing foliage. 
 
 Toward evening we crossed the bridge of Lodi, famous 
 in the annals of the war for one of the early victories of the 
 conqueror of Italy. 
 
 The rich meadows in the neighbourhood are watered by 
 sluices, and usually mowed four times in a year. The 
 number of cows kept in this little province is estimated at 
 thirty thousand; and the cheeses made here are reckoned 
 the best of the Parmesan, though much of it is made about 
 Pavia, and in the Milanese. 
 
 Next morning we continued our route toward Parma, 
 amid rows of elms, alders, and maples, planted by the hus- 
 bandmen for the support of clustering vines. 
 
 This, however, is the only beauty of this part of Italy, 
 though it is described by Tacitus as 
 
 Florentissimum Italice latus,f 
 
 for pothing interrupts the tedious sameness of an endless 
 plain, and bounded horizon, but the stony beds of rivers or 
 rivulets — in summer rolling two or three muddy streams 
 along the wide-spread devastation of their wintry over- 
 flow. 
 
 * W H Esq. 
 
 f The roost flourishing side of Italy; 
 
3S 
 
 TRAVELS THROUGH 
 
 These you get over, as well as you can, it being difficult 
 to keep up bridges under such untiayourWe circumstances, 
 as the massy ruins or* Roman causeways abundantly testify. 
 Modern Italians rest satisfied with the proof, and leave the 
 affrighted traveller to be whirled over the Po by ragged 
 ruffians, or swamped among its wandering branches, for 
 want of a guide post to point out the shifting fords. 
 
 According to the poets, Phaeton was precipitated into the 
 Po, and his disconsolate sisters were changed into the 
 poplar, or the weeping willows, which ever since adorn its 
 banks. 
 
 Entering the duchy of Parma at Placentia, the roads- 
 improve as you approach the capital, and the country ap- 
 pears thickly settled with industrious peasantry. 
 
 This is a healthy as well as a plentiful country, famous 
 even in the days of Pliny for the- longevity of its peaceful 
 inhabitants, among whom he mentions three persons of a 
 hundred and forty. 
 
 At Placentia began the Via JEmilia, which extended to 
 Rimini on the Adriatic. 
 
 Here we met a train of six or seven coaches drawn, like 
 our own, by mules, ornamented with towering collar-pieces, 
 flaring with tinsel, and jingling with bells. They contained 
 the travelling domestics of the new-made king of Etruria, 
 returning to Spain by this circuitous route. 
 
 The duke of Parma is suffered to preserve his dominions, 
 whilst all around him crouches under the ascendency of 
 France, in favour of his affinity to the crown of Spain, 
 the tributary ally of La grande Nation. 
 
 The connexion is of that degree of consanguinity, com- 
 mon in the royal families of Spain and Portugal, although 
 forbidden by the canons of the church. If I mistake not 
 the mixed relationship, the present king married the sister 
 of the present duke, and the duke's son, now by the grace 
 of Bonaparte, king of Etruria, married the king's daughter. 
 
 Near the town we met four monks, big and burly, in the 
 habit of their order, taking the air in the duke's coach, 
 and the sentinels who demanded our passports at the gate, 
 were dressed in white, the Bourbon uniform, and wore 
 their hair in clubs and powder, instead of the sans-culotte 
 crop. 
 
 The city of Parma is well built and agreeably situated on 
 "both sides of a little river which bears its name, and may 
 contain fifty thousand people, with an appearance of opu- 
 
SWITZERLAND AND ITALY. SQ 
 
 lence and splendour, hardly to be expected in so small a 
 
 The ducal palace, a little without the town, scarcely 
 excels the mansion house of an English gentleman. The 
 cathedral ,s vast and gloomy, and the last Judgment, of 
 
 £™f rf 1 fa . di '^ fr T the waIls ' The wooden theatre, 
 emarkable for its distnbut.on of sounds, is out of use and 
 Ming to rum But in the ancient church of St. Baptiste, 
 s a baptismal font, so large, that it was probably constructed 
 for plenary immersion, before the convenient substitution 
 took place of sprinkling with water, in the iniatory cere- 
 mony ot baptism. J 
 
 AltL Reggi0 y ? U i 6nt f r , the , territories of the late duchy of 
 Modena, annihilated by the powerful wand of the Cor- 
 sican magician. 
 
 reo bHr P 1 secondary town of the Cisalpine 
 republic, is a large city, but its streets have a gloomy 
 appearance, from the iron gates before the windows of tt*e 
 ground-floors, and the melancholy dress of the women 
 who look as i they were all clad in widow's weed , w'th 
 their long black cloaks and hoods. 
 
 In the neighbourhood are frequently dug up shells and 
 pea-weed, together with branches and trunksV t eeT- 
 sometimes pavements of streets, and walls of house s 
 parently coeval remains of incalculable convulsions ' ? 
 
 I he road was thronged when we entered the town, with 
 
 stoie houses. The whole country, as far as Bologna, fan 
 appendage of the papacy, till it was also touched by the Cir- 
 cean wand, and became a fief to the new republic) ex- 
 h.bued but one continued scene of in-gatherin^ and 
 merry-making, the blessful concomitants of a^lenteoSs vm- 
 
 fronts 1 ^"" f P ^ ^TY a PP eara ^e, from the 
 
 rronts ot the houses being built upon arcades Ik 
 
 zzz- xlr: j: e r eran * employed in ihe 
 
 The cathedral, a modern structure, is elegantly finished 
 jv.th.n and without, and for the north of Itfly if is oecu 
 bar y rich ,n marble decorations. It was also once adorned 
 with the exquisite paintings of the Lombard school, Bolo-na 
 having been the birth-place of the Caraccis, Guido°Bo- 
 menichino, and other eminent painters, who had enriched 
 their ■ native c.y, with many of fe admirable pioducdont 
 But the ancjent collections in this part of Ital/have- been 
 
40 TRAVELS THROUGH 
 
 so thinned by Parisian requisitions, that 1 have generally 
 spared myself the mortification and disappointment, which 
 might attend an enquiry for what is no longer to be found. 
 
 Yet in the tribune of the cathedral of Bologna, may 
 still be seen the annunciation of the angel Gabriel to the 
 Virgin of the house of David, the last flight of the expiring 
 genius of Lodovico Caracci. 
 
 In the year 1529, the emperor Charles the Fifth was 
 crowned king of Lombardy by pope Clement the Seventh, 
 within thoo-loomy walls of the church or bt. Petronius, a 
 gothic edifice, which has been erected near the town-house, 
 that the patron saint might be at hand for the protection of 
 the government. In it is an old wooden image of the tute- 
 lary divinity, before which a glimmering lamp is kept con- 
 tinually burning, although on the floor beneath is traced in 
 brass and marble, the meridian line of Cassini, which from 
 June to January marks the point of mid-day. 
 
 The front of this vast pile, like those of many other 
 Italian cKurches, is still unfinished, possibly because the 
 intended incrustation was too costly to be executed ; but 
 more probably, because it has been found convenient to 
 preserve a constant object for the contributions of the de- 
 
 vout. . . , 
 
 In the square before it. is a magnificent fountain, with a 
 colossal statue of Neptune, a celebrated work of Giovanni 
 di Bologna, another son of the place, in the happiest period 
 of the arts. e 
 
 Without the walls there is a convent on the top of a moun- 
 tain, which boasts a miraculous image, one of the Ma- 
 donas of St. Luke. A covered passage leads to it irom 
 the o-ates of the town, said to be three miles in length. 
 
 We ascended this gallery the day after our arrival, no- 
 ticing as we passed, the pious individuals and holy tratei- 
 nitie?, who had purchased the privilege of inscribing their 
 names for the veneration of posterity, by erecting one or 
 more of its innumerable arcades. 
 
 From the windows of the convent, the fathers enjoy an 
 unbounded prospect of the plains of Lombardy sprinkled 
 with villages and towns, and a view of the rising hillocks of 
 the Apennines, here exactly resembling the waves ot^a 
 troubled sea, suddenly transfixed and motionless. 
 
 Next morning, a new vettorino, with whom 1 had made 
 the customary agreement, without stipulating to have the 
 carriage to ourselves, called us up before day light to set 
 out for Florence. 
 
SWITZERLAND AND ITALY,! 4l 
 
 We were soon ready, and happy to find but one person 
 in the voiture, with whom we conversed familiarly till day- 
 break. Judge of our surprise when we perceived it was 
 the very monk to whom I had so ungraciously refused a 
 passage from Milan. 
 
 I excused the unfavourable circumstance, as well as I 
 could, and the meek religiou* declared himself satisfied with 
 my reasons, though he had suffered by them severely, 
 having fallen among a company of French players, vvitll 
 w hom he had been kept shut up all day, and almost all 
 night, ever since. 
 
 We now however jogged along together upon the most 
 friendly terms imaginable. When we chose to refresh our- 
 selves upon the road, the father was spokesman and pay- 
 master, and when he in his corner muttered over a prayer 
 book, or bowed to the right and left to the Blessed Virgin, 
 or the sign of the cross, we never interrupted his devotions; 
 though I could not but remark, that he was himself almost 
 wearied with their frequency, and would actually spare 
 himself the trouble of saluting whenever the sacred images 
 had been defaced by accident or design. 
 
 This disciple of St. Dominic was <m elderly man. He 
 spoke French indifferently, and had once, he told us, obtained 
 a smattering of English, but he had almost forgotten super- 
 ficial learning, since he had devoted himself' to the pi-ofoundcr 
 jstudy of theology. 
 
 He was now going to Rome to fill a professor's chair, in 
 a college of his order; and he shewed us in the simplicity 
 of his heart, a purse of gold which his friends had forced 
 upon him on his leaving the convent in which he had been 
 matriculated. — More money, he said, than ever he had been 
 master of before. 
 
 We ascended the Apennines by a circuitous route, and 
 were surprised to find towns, villages, and even cultivated 
 fields to their very summits, though their general appear- 
 ance is as dreary and desolate as that of the high lands o£ 
 Scotland, such is the genial influence of the sun in a warm 
 climate even upon an ungrateful soil. 
 
 From one eminence there is a casual glimpse of the 
 gulph of Ancona, upon the distant Adriatic. 
 
 Early in the afternoon of the second day, we had a view 
 of Florence, and the neighbouring towns and villages, so 
 thickly strewed in the delightful vale of Arno, gaily inter- 
 spersed with white houses, fields, and woods, among whick 
 winds the meandering river, as far as the eye can reach, 
 
 SWITZERLAND.] F 
 
4<± 
 
 TRAVELS THROUGH 
 
 But this was a transient view, we lost sight of it as we 
 descended to Fiesole, the classic eminence celebrated by 
 Milton, when comparing the shield of Satan to the moon, 
 
 . 1 — — — — whose orb, 
 
 Through optic glass, the Tuscan artist views, 
 At evening from the top of Fiesole, Valdarno, 
 Or in Valdarno, to descry new lands, 
 Rivers, or mountains, on her spotly globe. 
 
 Here, too, a solitary mule-path invites the zealous or 
 romantic pilgrim to visit the secluded valley, occupied a 
 thousand years by the votaries of St. Benedict, from whose 
 chesnut groves the British Homer so happily illustrates the 
 multitude of the fallen angels stretched on the banks of 
 hell : 
 
 Thick as autumnal leaves that strew the brooks 
 In Valombrosa, where the Etrurian shades, 
 High over-arch'd embower. 
 
 We entered Florence by the triumphal arch erected in 
 honour of the Austrian family, and took some pains to 
 find a lodging to our minds, as we intended to stay several 
 days in so interesting a place. 
 
 Our catholic companion, expecting to be accomodated 
 by the brotherhood of St. Dominic, desired the vettorino 
 to set him down at the convent of St. Mark. There ac- 
 cordingly his trunk was taken off, and they both disappeared 
 for some time in the cloisters of the monasterv, when to our 
 great surprise, out again came our meek religious, bag and 
 baggage, with two or three ill-looking friars at his heels. 
 One of them particularly pursey and ill-favoured, seemed 
 to be rating at the vettorino for bringing the brother there, 
 and our poor monk got quietly into the coach again, mildly 
 telling us that he could not lodge there, but that there teas 
 another content of his order, where he hoped to be taken in. 
 
 Here, as hospitality would have it, there was room for 
 a stranger, and we finally separated with mutual good- 
 wishes — perhaps with mutual good-will^ — notwithstanding 
 the aversion of his order to incorrigible schismatics. 
 
SWITZERLAND AND ITALY. 
 
 43 
 
 LETTER VII. 
 
 DESCRIPTION OF FLORENCE. — THE DUCAL GALLERY, &C 
 
 ThE morning after our arrival, we rambled over this 
 beautiful town, which is not unjustly denominated Flo- 
 rence the Fair. The streets are paved with flat stone from 
 side to side, (like those courts of the city of Bath, which 
 are designed to exclude the rattle of coaches, for the tran- 
 quillity of invalids), the houses are built in a good taste, 
 and most of the palaces front each other on both sides of 
 the Arno, over which are thrown several fine bridges. 
 One of them looks gay with the statues of the seasons, and 
 another exhibits cycloidal arches, constructed byAmma- 
 nati. 
 
 The banks of the river are one continued quay, unob- 
 structed by the stir of commerce, (for Leghorn is the port 
 of Tuscany,) yet enlivened with the pursuits of pomp and 
 pleasure, which create a continual drive upon the three 
 bridges, as the ducal, now royal, palace, is on the least 
 populous side of the river. 
 
 The squares are ornamented with fountains and obelisks, 
 and the public walks are extensive and well designed. One 
 of them is beautifully traced upon the borders of the Arno. 
 
 The old ducal palace, or palazzo vecchio is interesting 
 to curiosity, from the long residence of the Medicis, those 
 celebrated patrons of the fine arts, which were first revived 
 at Florence by artists invited over from Greece, soon after 
 the excursions of the crusades had given the rising nations 
 of Europe a taste for the luxuries of the east. The gloomy 
 edifice was erected by Arnolfo, the disciple of Cimabue, 
 in the thirteenth century, that equivocal period, when su- 
 perstition and ferocity were so strangely blended. It is a 
 heavy structure, immensely high, crowned with a square 
 tower, the projecting quoins at the top of which make it 
 look dangerously top-heavy from below. In it is preserved 
 the original copy of the Pandects of Justinian, discovered 
 at Amalphi in the year 1137. 
 
 . At the great door are two gigantic groupes, David slay- 
 ing Goliah, and some other bloody story, the subject of 
 which I have forgotten; but I shall not easily forget the 
 
 f 2 
 
41. 
 
 TRAVELS THROUGH 
 
 chilling impression made by the dark and massy hall, over 
 which are now held the courts of justice, so often in the 
 old countries teeming with deeds of horror. 
 
 Another side of the court is formed by the celebrated 
 Loggia, an arcade of three arches, in one of which is placed 
 the famous master-piece of Benevenuto Cellini. Perseus 
 standing over the bleeding carcass of Medusa, holds aloft 
 by the hair, in his left hand, the head which he has just 
 severed from the body, with the sword which he grasps in 
 his right. In another stands the Judith and Holofernes of 
 J)onatellq. In the third Giovanni di Bologna has repre- 
 sented with equal spirit, the Rape of a Sabine Virgin by a 
 Roman warrior. 
 
 A moralist cannot but regret that the finest talents 
 should be thus employed in perpetuating acts of violence 
 and cruelty ; but such is the fatality of statuary, that it is 
 difficult to invent a harmless circumstance, that can be 
 accompanied with the degree of action, which is necessary 
 to animate a groupe. 
 
 On one side of the square is an equestrian statue of 
 Cosmo the first, by Giovanni di Bologna. 
 
 Double corridors form a street to the left of the palace, 
 opening upon the river by arcades. Over these is carried 
 the celebrated gallery, which communicated with the 
 palace, when it was inhabited by the grand duke, by means 
 of an arch thrown over the intermediate street. 
 
 You enter it from the court by long flights of steps, by 
 which you ascend to the upper story of the building, and 
 approach the long corridors through a double anti-chamber 
 in the first cube of which are ten busts of the Medicean 
 princes. In the second is a horse and a wild boar, both 
 antiques ; and over the door is a bust of Leopold, the first 
 grand duke of the Austrian family, who afterward ascend- 
 ed the imperial throne. 
 
 In the first wing of the corridors are antique statues and 
 sarcophaguses, with busts of almost all the Roman emperors. 
 , J° tne second, which commands a pleasing view of the 
 river, the principal objects, worth notice, are a Venus sitting 
 in a shell, and a Torso, or mutilated statue, of exquisite work- 
 manship. 
 
 In the third, you observe a Morpheus in touch stone and 
 a copy of the Laocoon. 
 
 The size and proportions of this famous gallery are far 
 from answering the elevated idea generally entertained of 
 its magnificence. It is both low and narrow for its length 
 
SWITZEHLAN© AND ITALY. 
 
 45 
 
 and the master pieces of painting and sculpture, with which' 
 it is lined, are degraded by an endless row of uninteresting 
 portraits. 
 
 It now however shews to disadvantage, having been 
 first stripped by the abdicated grand Puke himself of the 
 celebrated Venus, and other objects esteemed most valuable 
 (to place them in safety at Palermo) arid afterward deci- 
 mated tor the gallery of Paris, at the will of the conqueror 
 of Italy. 
 
 Yet "a suit of twenty cabinets still includes immense num- 
 bers of ancient and modern curiosities, suitably arranged. 
 
 The first of these contains, or did contain, for I did not 
 allow myself time enough at Florence, on my zcaij to Rome, 
 to examine them all, the celebrated bust of Alexander the 
 Great, those of Junius Brutus, of Tullius Cicero, and a 
 statue of the Genio delta Morte, not as the scare-crow of the 
 nurse, or the schoolmistress, but as the angel of death, that 
 (in the figures of Gibbon) expects the conqueror in the 
 field of victory. 
 
 In the second cabinet, among many other objects, for I 
 should tire myself and my readers, if I were to particularise 
 them all, are two busts of Seneca. 
 
 In the third, is a head of Medusa, by Leonardo da Vinci, 
 with portraits of Dante and Petrarch. 
 
 In the fourth, called the Tribune, was once placed the 
 Venus de Medicis, " the statue," says Thomson, " that 
 enchants the world." Around it were an Apollo, a dancing 
 Fawn, the Wrestlers, and the listening Slave ; and the sur- 
 rounding walls were hung with all the graces of the Italian 
 pencil. There was a Virgin of Guido, a Holy Family of 
 Michael Angelo, another of Correggio, pope Julius II, by 
 Raphael, a Venus by Titian, and other admirable produc- 
 tions of Mantegna, Perrigino, Da Vinci, Del Sarto, Guer- 
 cino, Domenchmo, Rubens, and Vandyke. 
 
 In the fifth, are several sketches, and some finished pieces, 
 of Salvator Rosa. 
 
 In the sixth were a number of paintings of the Dutch 
 school, such as Peasants at table by Van Mieris, a Candle- 
 light piece by Van Ostade, and two other homely scenes by 
 Gerard Dow. This low-lived scenery must have formed a 
 striking contrast to the elevated productions of the Italian 
 school. '■' The one," it has been well said, " aimed at sur- 
 passing nature, the other at debasing it." 
 
 In the seventh were arranged Flemish and German pro- 
 ductions by Neeffs., Teniers, Rubens, and Vandyke, 
 
46 
 
 TRAVELS THROUGH 
 
 In the eighth, those of the French school, such as battle., 
 by Bourguiguon, a history by Prussia, a landscape by his 
 brother, &c. 
 
 In the ninth are preserved vases, bronze figures, small 
 columns of marble, &c. &c. 
 
 In the tenth and eleventh, portraits of eminent painters, 
 chiefly drawn by themselves. 
 
 In the twelfth, statues, busts, inscriptions, Stc. 
 
 In the thirteenth, paintings. 
 
 In the fourteenth, the famous Groupe of Niobe and. her 
 Children struck with lightning. 
 
 In the fifteenth, Grecian Vases, and Votive Offerings. 
 
 In the sixteenth, statues and bas-reliefs in bronze, among 
 which is a Mercury standing on the wind, by Giovanni di 
 Bologna. 
 
 In the seventeenth, Etruscan statues, sacrificial and 
 chirurgical instruments, candelabra, lamps, rings, bracelets, 
 ear-rings, metal mirrors (which preceded the use of glass, 
 scarcely known in antiquity) domestic utensils, and mark- 
 ing stamps, which must have been used so much in the 
 manner of types, that it is surprising the compendious idea 
 of printing never occurred to the ancients. 
 
 This superb collection is thrown open to the public 
 every day, morning and afternoon ; as are also 
 
 The Academia lieale delle belle Arte, with its schools for 
 the study of architecture and practical mechanics, and its 
 manufactory of inlaid marble, called Florentine work. 
 
 And the Muses d'lstoria Naturale, both of which were 
 instituted by the munificence of Leopold. 
 
 The anatomical preparations in wax and wood, belong- 
 ing to the latter, are supposed to be the finest in the world. 
 They are so numerous as to require twenty rooms for their 
 systematical arrangement. In one of them is exhibited the 
 progress of corruption, from the moment of decease, to the 
 total decay of the body. In another are preserved the 
 celebrated representations of the plague, done in the time 
 of the Medicean princes, so painfully fine, that few per- 
 sons can bear to examine them. 
 
 There is an observatory attached to this splended museum, 
 furnished with ample apparatus, for mechanical, mathe- 
 matical, electrical, and hydraulic experiments ; as well as 
 a numerous collection of animals, plants, and minerals, 
 systematically arranged. 
 
 Not far from the Academia Reale, and in the care of the 
 same custody are the cloisters of the suppressed brother- 
 
SWITZERLAND AND ITALY. 
 
 47 
 
 hood of San Giovanni Battista, in which Andrea del Sarto 
 has painted, in twelve compartments, the life of John the 
 Baptist, beginning with the dumbness of Zacharias, in- 
 flicted for his unbelief, and ending with the presentation 
 of the prophet's head to the revengeful Herodias. For 
 these exquisite performances, Andrea is said to have received 
 but twenty livres a piece. 
 
 The modem residence of the grand dukes, still calle'd 
 the Palazzo Pitti, from the name of a merchant of Florence, 
 in the fifteenth century, who ruined himself by building 
 it, and from whom, or his assigns, it was bought by the duke 
 then reigning for a trifle, is a heavy and tasteless structure, 
 though designed by Brunellesco, and executed by Ammanati. 
 
 The royal apartments however are richly gilt, and su- 
 perbly ornamented, with cielings painted by Pietro da, 
 Cortona. They were once splendidly hung with the finest 
 pictures of the Italian schools, but most of them had been 
 removed to Paris before the inauguration of the new 
 sovereign. Those in which the grand dukes used to receive 
 company, are at once splendid and comfortable. 
 
 In the collection, were the well-known portraits ofTitiaa, 
 Julius II, Philip of Spain, and Paul 111, together with 
 the celebrated one of his own mistress, the famous picture 
 of Raphael, in which he has introduced the cardinals, 
 Giulio de Medicis, afterward Clement VII, and Luigi de 
 Rossi, in the presence of Leo X ; Rubens's family piece, 
 including his philosophic friends, Grotius and Lipsius ; 
 another of Cardinal Bentivoglio by Vandyke, one by Rem- 
 brandt, and a Holy Child sleeping, by Carlo Dolce. 
 
 There was also a drawing of the Fatal Sisters by Michael 
 Angelo, which may probably remain upon the walls, for 
 the French do not relish his pindaric fire, as much as the 
 English ; their taste is better suited with the air of Raphael, 
 and the grace of Guido. 
 
 In some gloomy chambers were hung three battle pieces, 
 and the conspiracy of Catiline, dark with the savage dashes 
 of Salvator Rosa. 
 
 The adjoining gardens are nobly ornamented with a 
 cpouting fountain that falls into a bason of granite, twenty 
 feet diameter, in which a marble Neptune, by Giovanni di < 
 Bologna, is attended by recumbent statuesof the Euphrates, 
 the Ganges, and the Nile : and in a dripping grotto are four 
 unfinished figures from the chisel of Michael Angelo, pre- 
 served like the Torso, from the touch of inferior artists. 
 
 5 
 
4S 
 
 TRAVELS THROUGH 
 
 In tins genial climate, the poplar and the phillyrea 
 retain their leaves till the end of December, and among 
 groves of evergreens are here remarked the olive, the cy- 
 press, the holly, and all the branches of the family of 
 pines, plentifully interspersed with laureis. 
 
 At the rural retreat, called Carreggi do Med'ci, on the 
 banks of the Arno>in the days of Lorenzo the magnificent, 
 the platonic society used to assemble every week to plan 
 public edifices and useful institutions. 
 
 At Pratolino, another royal villa, in the neighbourhood, 
 is a marble statue of the genius of the Apennines, executed 
 by the gigantic standard of sixty feet. 
 
 'On the vigil of San Giovanni, the wives and daughters 
 of the neighbouring peasants, with their languishing black 
 eyes, and lofty eye-brows, set off by Arcadian dresses, crowd 
 the streets of the capital to see the chariots of the nobility 
 drive round the stajue of Ferdinand the first, in the square 
 of the Annunciation ; and to behold the dangerous horse 
 races of the Strada del Duomo, which are evident modifi- 
 cations of the games of the ancient Romans. 
 
 Within the cloisters of the church that fronts this square, 
 is the clebrated fresco of the Madonna del Sacco, so called 
 from having been executed for the fathers of the convent, 
 during a period of famine, for the price of a sack of corn. 
 Jn a semicircle of one of the arcades, the painter has re- 
 presented the Holy Family at their devotions. Mary sits in 
 the centre, with her infant child, and listens with earnest, 
 but resigned attention to Joseph, reclining on a sack, and 
 reading to the mother and her Son, the prediction of the 
 prophet's, which announce the sufferings of the Messiah, 
 before he should enter into glory. 
 
 The cathedral church, remarkable for being the first 
 dome that was raised in Europe, after the decline of the 
 Roman empire, was begun in 1294 by Arnolfo, the disciple 
 of Cimabue, and finished in 1415 by Brunelleseo, the con- 
 temporary of Michael Angelo. The prince of architects 
 is here said to have complimented his fellow-citizen, when 
 he was himself employed in swelling the hemisphere of 
 St. Peter's, in an Italian adage : 
 
 Come te non volo — meglio de te ooh posso.* 
 But this unmerited flattery savours too little of the con- 
 
 t I will not imitate thee, though I cannot excel. 
 
SWITZERLAND AND ITALY. 
 
 48 
 
 scious superiority of genius ever to have escaped the 
 painter of the Prophets and Sybils of the Capella Sistina.- 
 
 The dome of Santa Maria del Fiore (for most of thd 
 cathedrals of Italy are dedicated to the Virgin) is nothing 
 more than a vast and gloomy concave, which has been 
 dimly impressed with the innumerable figures of the last 
 Judgment, trembling before the dreaded tribunal of final 
 recompenses; while the sanctum sanctorum, inclosed below 
 it, from vulgar profanation, swarms alike with equivocal 
 beatitudes, and candidates for purgatory. 
 
 Behind the dingy altar is a marble Pieta [the mournful 
 Mother weeping over the body of her Son] that is said to 
 have been the last work of Michael Angelo, at which the 
 superannuated sculptor was arrested by the hand of Death. 
 
 In. one of the darkened chapels, which surrounded the 
 choir, under the patronage of San Zenobi, is a bronze 
 Ciborio, by Lorenzo Ghiberti, glimmering at noon day, witli 
 the dubious light of waxen tapers, flaring round a christian 
 sanctuary; while the surrounding pavement is blackened 
 with the cloaks and veils of prostrate suppliants, uninten- 
 tionally emblematic of superstitious horror. 
 
 Within this gloomy vault, too well adapted to the per- 
 petration of deeds of darkness, in the year 1478, at the 
 instigation of the then Pope, Sixtus IV, upon a solemn 
 festival, at the moment of the elevation of the host, when 
 all the people were prostrate before the altar, Julian de 
 Medicis and his brother Lorenzo, since surnamed the 
 Magnificent, were at the same instant stabbed by desperate 
 assassins ! The wound of Lorenzo wa.s not mortal, and he 
 took refuge in the vestry ; but Julian died upon the spot, 
 leaving behind him a posthumous son, who afterward, as 
 Pope Clement VII, played over again upon the theatre 
 of Christendom the same horrid game. 
 
 Itl the damp and dingy nave are seen rude mosaics, 
 executed in the infancy of the art, by Ghirlandajo, and 
 feacldo Gaddi, and dusky monuments stuck here and" there 
 upon the walls, contribute, to the general gloom. 
 
 The front of this immense pile has never been finished, 
 although the campanile, a tower erected to suspend the 
 thundering bell two hundred feet in the air, was designed 
 by Giotto, and completely encrusted with white and black 
 marble, in alternate squares, as long ago as the year 1334/ 
 a period when Italian architecture was neither Gothic nor 
 Grecian, but a whimsical intermixture of both. 
 
 SWITZEKLAN D.] <J 
 
50 
 
 TRAVELS THROUGH 
 
 On the opposite side of the square is the chapel of the 
 baptistery, detached like the steeple from the body of the 
 church, as is often the case in Italy. It is an octagonal 
 structure, said to have been originally a heathen temple. 
 
 The mosaics of the dome were done by Apollonius, a 
 Grecian artist, in the twelfth century; but they are scarcely 
 visible by the twilight glimmer that is admitted from with- 
 out, in meridian sun-shine. 
 
 The bronze door of this gloomy edifice, executed by 
 Ghiberti, upon the designs of Arnolfo, is a miracle of art, 
 representing in eight compartments of three or four feet 
 square, as many scripture histories, from the dividing of 
 light from darkness, on the first day of creation, to the 
 banishment of Adam and Eve from the garden of Eden. 
 The figures are but a few inches high, yet they are finish- 
 ed to the minutest feature, and project from the surface 
 with perspective relief. 
 
 Neither is the door-case unworthy of the door, though 
 it was wrought by another artist in flowers and foliage, 
 among which are elegantly interwoven birds and fruit. 
 
 Two lateral doors are also curious performances of con- 
 temporary genius, exhibiting in smaller compartments, the 
 awful history of the Life, Sufferings, and Death of Christ, 
 and they are alike, richly framed with fruit and flowers. 
 
 Behind the high altar of the church of San Lorenzo, 
 is the costly mausoleum of the Medicean princes, which 
 remained unfinished when the aspiring family became 
 extinct. 
 
 It is an octagon of fifty feet diameter, crowned with a 
 dome, the walls of which are lined with Sicilian jasper, and 
 richly inlaid with precious stones. 
 
 Upon six of its sides are marble sarcophaguses, designed 
 by the prolific genius of Michael Angelo, two of which are 
 surmounted by regal crowns, placed upon cushions of red 
 jasper, and studded with transparent gems. 
 
 Near it is the Capella de Principi, a secluded chapel, 
 designed by the same creative pencil, and filled by the same 
 various hand with the tombs of Giuliano, duke of Nemours, 
 and brother to Leo X, and Lorenza, duke of Urbino, on 
 the right and left of the altar. 
 
 Each of them exhibits its princely occupant in complete 
 armour, sitting within a niche behind his tomb; the former 
 accompanied by recumbent figures of Day and Night ; the 
 latter by day-break and twilight. Ideas happily emble- 
 matic of monumental fume, in which, as in the parish register, 
 
SWITZERLAND AND ITALY. 
 
 ■ ■ —to be born and die, 
 Of rich and poor makes ail the history.* 
 
 In the adjoining convent there is a noble library, particu- 
 larly rich in ancient manuscripts, and early editions of 
 the classics. 
 
 Among the former, there is a Bible of the vulgate trans- 
 lation, supposed to have been written as early as the seventh 
 century, in which the curious have observed the omission 
 of the controverted text of St. John, u there are three that 
 bear record in heaven." 
 
 There is also a copy of Virgil's iEneid, said to be of the 
 fifth century, in which the four first verses, 
 
 Ille ego qui quondam, &c.f 
 
 are wanting. The poem begins with 
 
 Anna virumque cano.J 
 
 The anti-chamber and stair-case of this famous library 
 were designed by Michael Angelo, and are deservedly 
 admired. 
 
 In the church of Santa Croce, which belongs to a con- 
 vent of Benedictines, a Gothic edifice, erected by Arnolfo 
 in ] f 294, are seen a number of interesting monuments, par- 
 ticularly those of Galileo, the precursor of Astronomical 
 Truth, and of Michael Angelo Buonaroti, who died at 
 Rome in his 89th year, but was here interred by command 
 of the reigning duke. § 
 
 Galileo is happily represented upon his funeral urn, as 
 having gazed through his telescope until weariness obliges 
 him to discontinue his contemplations. He is accompanied 
 on one side by the genius of Astronomy, on the other by 
 that of Geometry, with their discriminating attributes. 
 
 Buonaroti reposes upon a monumental stone, surrounded 
 by the sister arts of Painting, Sculpture, and Architecture, 
 weeping over the happy Genius by whom they were once, 
 and but onee united, 
 
 * Pope. 
 
 f I who but lately sung, &c. 
 % Arms and the man I sing. 
 
 § I need not roll the well-known story of the persecution of the astrono- 
 mer, because his discoveries were supposed to controvert the descriptions 
 of the sacred books; nor need I add the mortifying recantation, by which 
 the philosopher was fain to make his peace with the bigots of his age. 
 But it may not be generally known, that some of the works of Galileo are 
 yet prohibited i i his native city. 
 
 G2 
 
58 
 
 TRAVELS THROUGH 
 
 LETTER VIII. 
 
 MISCELLANEOUS REMARKS. — 'TRAVELLING ANECDOTE*, 
 
 AmERIGUS Vesputius, the reputed discoverer of the 
 western continent, who has had the honour of giving his 
 name to the new world, to the prejudice of Columbus 
 (whose comprehensive genius had penetrated with an eagle's 
 eye, the western horizon) was a native of Florence. 
 
 The Academia della Crusca boasts among its members, 
 many persons of distinguished eminence in learning and 
 the arts, and the salutary institutions of the grand duke, 
 Leopold, afterward Emperor of Germany, however dis- 
 graced by his bigoted prohibition of protestant doctrines, 
 entitle him to rank with Howard, Rumford, Lownes, and 
 pther benevolent individuals in Europe and America, who 
 have reduced the theories of philanthropy to national 
 practice, and displayed to the expecting world, the en- 
 couraging example of successful experiment in the tem- 
 perate correction of idleness and vice. 
 
 During the reign of Leopold, no Florentine could he 
 imprisoned for debt, though his creditors might seize his 
 property to satisfy their demands ; and no offence whatever 
 was punishable with death, though murder incurred asen- 
 tence more dreadful to hardened villainy, perpetual labour 
 in the gallies. By these and other political measures, such 
 as the protection of the Jews, those active agents of comme»> 
 cial enterprise; the abolition of sanctuaries, so mischievously 
 privileged to shelter crimes; and the absurd or rapacious 
 penalty of confiscation of family property, which punishes 
 the innocent for the sins of the guilty ; together with 
 the natural progress of things in the eighteenth century, 
 Tuscany was cleared of robbery and murder, and the happy 
 subjects of the grand duke were increased from a million, 
 to twelve hundred thousand souls. 
 
 Florence has always been remarkable, even among the 
 cities of Italy, for the most superstitious attachment to monks 
 and friars. Churches and convents accordingly abound, 
 and painted Madonnas, the usual mark of popular devo- 
 tion, are not wanting at the corners, of the streets. 
 
SWITZERLAND AND ITALY, 
 
 53 
 
 The ignoble custom, so often remarked by travellers, of 
 'keeping a wine cellar in the palaces of the first nobility, 
 where wines are retailed by the flask, is still continued at 
 Florence, to the great accommodation of those who love a 
 glass of the pure juice of the grape, which is here parti- 
 cularly luscious. The petty negociation takes place iu the 
 open street, at an obscure window on the ground floor, to the 
 astonishment of English dignity, and the utter confusion 
 of German etiquette. 
 
 The dialect of the Italian tongue, which is spoken in 
 Tuscany, is more favourable than any other, for that exer- 
 tion of rhyming promptitude, described by most travellers, 
 the practitioners of which are here called improvisator!. 
 The interesting writer, who has favoured the world with a 
 view of society and manners in France and Italy, mentions 
 one of them, named Corilla, that he had heard himself. 
 She was so eminent an improvisatrice, that she had been 
 crowned in the capital of Rome with the wreath of poesy. 
 
 Yet the exertion of genius among the occasional orators 
 of the debating societies in England, is in reality far more 
 brilliant. 
 
 To string together at pleasure extempore verses of com- 
 pliment-or condolence, undoubtedly requires, in any lan- 
 guage, a fertile imagination, and a ready wit ; but the 
 Italian is peculiarly adapted to favour this particular species 
 of impromptu. 
 
 It contains an unusual number of synonyms, and allows 
 a liberty of mutilating words unknown to other languages, 
 to say nothing of the convenient augmentalives and dimi- 
 nutives, by which, for instance, 
 
 Grande may be, at the will of the singer, 
 
 Grandio, or if it suit better, 
 
 Grandioso, or if the measure require it 
 
 Grandissimo ; and 
 
 Piccolo, a little fellow, may be varied to 
 Piccolissimo, or 
 
 Povera, a poor girl, may be, and often is by whining 
 beggars, most musically converted into 
 Poverella. 
 
 The language abounds in vowels. Several letters at a 
 time may be dropped at will. Whole sentences as well as 
 particular words are used only in poetry. Thus every 
 phrase may be a verse, and every word a rhyme, and the 
 Italians, amused and deceived by the melody of their lan- 
 guage, and charmed with the pleasure which it affords the 
 
TRAVELS THROUGH 
 
 ear, require from the rapid improvisatrice neither sentiments 
 nor ideas, and permit her to introduce the lowest vulgarities, 
 as well as the most unnatural images and overstrained 
 allusions. 
 
 By the help of all these favourable circumstances, a man, 
 but especially a woman, of parts little quicker than ordinary, 
 may produce, zoithout a miracle, amusement enough for 
 people disposed to be amused. 
 
 Even in our own stubborn English, did not the unweildy 
 Johnson string together extempore stanzas amid the relax- 
 ation of the tea-table.* 
 
 At Florence the usual salutation of profound respect to a 
 superior, or a lady, is to kiss the hand, a custom which was 
 accidentally illustrated the other day by a Tuscan prince, 
 whose apartments at the hotel were on the same floor with 
 ours. 
 
 Happening to return to his lodgings in the dusk of the 
 evening, his highness mistook our rooms for his own, till 
 he found my wife coming out of her chamber, expecting to 
 meet her husband. The prince made a thousand apologies 
 for the unintentional intrusion, and begged to have the 
 honour of kissing the lady's hand before he withdrew. She 
 unluckily knew nothing of the customs of Florence, and 
 peremptorily refused to receive the compliment, assuring 
 him she did not understand such freedom. Upon which the 
 disconcerted prince, retreating in a passion, slammed the 
 door after him, and called out for his servants, exclaiming 
 
 * In a tea conversation at the house of Sir Joshua Reynolds, speaking 
 of Percy's reliques of ancient English Poetry, Dr. Johnson ridiculed that 
 kind of writing, by addressing extempore, the following stanzas to the young 
 lady who made the tea : 
 
 I pray thee, gentle Kenny, dear, 
 That thou wilt give to me, 
 With cream and sugar temper'd well, 
 Another dish of tea. 
 
 Nor fear that I, my gentle maid, 
 
 Shall long detain the cup, 
 When once unto the bottom I 
 
 Have drank the liquor up. 
 
 Yet hear at last this mournful truth, 
 
 Nor hear it with a frown, 
 Thou canst not make the tea so fast 
 
 As I can gulp it down. 
 
SWITZERLAND AND ITALY* 
 
 55 
 
 in a paroxysm of vexation, that he had met with a lady, 
 who refused to let him kiss her hand. 
 
 I came in soon after, and chid my determined spouse for 
 refusing so small an act of condescension to a prince ; but 
 her spirits were still ruffled by the adventure, and she re- 
 torted on me with asperity : " How should I "know a prince 
 from a pedlar, without his pack ?" 
 
 LETTER IX. 
 
 JOURNEY FROM FLORENCE TO ROME. 
 
 Rome, October [Oth, 1S0U 
 We left Florence with impatience, as the last place that 
 should check our progress toward Rome. 
 
 As far as Sienna the soil is tolerably fertile, though verj 
 hilly. We entered the town under an elegant gateway, 
 and while the horses were feeding, went to see the cathe- 
 dral, a gothic edifice, built of black and white marble in 
 alternate stripes, which gives it a whimsical linsey-wolsey 
 appearance. 
 
 While we were crossing the market-place in the great 
 square, a mass was said under an open portico, and at the 
 elevation of the host, both buyers and sellers fell upon 
 their knees in the dirt. All however resumed their chat- 
 tering as soon as the bell ceased to tinkle, with as much 
 eagerness as if nothing had happened to interrupt their 
 •ccupations. 
 
 On quitting Sienna we soon entered a dreary country, 
 with few intervals of cultivation, between scattered villages, 
 perched upon the peaks of barren hills; and gladly passed 
 by without stopping at Radicofani, for aught I know, the 
 antient Clusium, the capital of Porsenna. 
 
 Between this forsaken city, hanging like an eagle's nest 
 upon the crag of a mountain, silent and solitary as a 
 haunted castle, and Aqua Pendente, the first town in the 
 Papal territores, the neglected road runs along the very 
 bed of a winding torrent, which often renders it quite impass- 
 able. We however laboured through it, with the help of 
 two, or three yoke of oxen ; and toward night were tugged 
 up a steep kill, to be filched by the officers of the pope's 
 
 5 
 
56 
 
 TRAVELS THfeOtClt 
 
 dogana/ who expected us at the gate. The starveling 
 placemen dismissed us after a short examination, to choose 
 the best lodgings we could find in the wretchedest inn in 
 Which we had ever yet had the misfortune to be detained. 
 
 Next day we passed through Bolsena and Montefiascont 
 to Viterbo, the last town of any importance short of Rome. 
 
 As we rode out of this place, the inhabitants of which 
 support the specious idleness of twenty-four convents of 
 monks and nuns, the peasants were going to mass in crowds, 
 though it was an hour before day, to indulge, or to exhibit 
 their zealous devotion to some favourite saint. 
 
 The morning was hazy, and our Italian fellow-travellers 
 handed us their smelling bottles, and put up the glasses of 
 the coach, to shut out the foul air of this forsaken tract, 
 which is described by Varro as a continued orchard, excell- 
 ing in fertility all the provinces of an empire which em- 
 braced every climate, from the equator to the pole.f 
 
 The Roman territories being depopulated by oppression 
 and celibacy, the air of the mountains is preferred to that 
 of the plains, which is rendered unwholesome and almost 
 pestiferous by the noxious vapours arising from stagnant 
 waters and volcanic soils. The latter were more or less 
 pernicious in ancient times, as we learn from Livy ; but 
 their virulence was then corrected by the salutary process 
 ef vegetation, and the balmy breath of flocks and herds. 
 
 Toward ten o'clock the clouds broke away, and permitted 
 us to behold the dome of St. Peter's towering in the air, 
 as we crossed, by the Flaminian way, the deserted plains 
 of the Campania, dotted here and there with decayed trees, 
 and ruined towers, but not of Roman antiquity ; monu- 
 ments of those barbarous ages, of which these fertile land* 
 have never recovered the devastations. 
 
 The approach of Rome was indicated by no signs of 
 opulence, or animation, though the road was lined for 
 some miles with crumbling masses of ancient magnificence, 
 in the half obliterated shape of tombs and temples. 
 
 But on crossing ihe Tiber, a muddy current, half as 
 wide us the Schuylkill at Philadelphia, by the Ponte Molle, 
 or Pons Milvius of antiquity, and entering the eternal city, 
 by the Porta del Popolo, erected by one of the Medicean 
 popes, from a design of Michael Angelo, we were instantly 
 ' v 
 
 Custom-liouse. 
 
 f Nulla woe tarn tota sil culta. Arboribus consita Italia est., ut tota 
 poinariuiu videatur. Varro de re Ilustica, Lib. I. c. 2. 
 
SWITZERLAND AND ITALY. 57 
 
 satisfied with an exhibition of antient and modern grandeur 
 no where united but at Rome. 
 
 An oblong square in the middle of which rises an Egyp- 
 tian obelisk, covered with hieroglyphics, terminates with 
 two churches of Grecian architecture, between which 
 opens the Corso, a fine street of a mile in length, leading 
 directly to the ascent of the capital, while two others 
 equally straight diverge to the right and left toward St. 
 Peter's, and St. John de Lateran.* 
 
 Here while we were shewing our passports, a valet de 
 place introduced himself without ceremony, as having had 
 the honour to serve several Milors, to whom he was proud 
 to have given the utmost satisfaction, and without, asking 
 permission he jumped up by the side of the coachman, 
 and went with us to the Dogana, which has been fitted up 
 within the colonnade of an ancient temple. 
 
 By the assistance of our Cicerone, for he serves occasi- 
 onally in both characters, we have procured very agreeable 
 lodgings at the house of a statuary, directly opposite the 
 church of San Carlo, an elegant edifice, near the middle of 
 the Corso; the principal objections to which we soon found 
 to be universal at Rome, viz. an open door was besieged by 
 idlers, and a public stair-case stinking with filth. 
 
 We had no sooner dined, than I set out to find St. Peter's, 
 but soon losing myself among crooked streets, narrow and 
 badly paved, I had recourse to my usual method in a strange 
 place, of walking far enough out of town to see the situ- 
 ation of the principal objects, when I found myself diame- 
 trically wrong, and was obliged to cross the whole town to 
 come at the bridge and castle of St. Angelo, from whence 
 a narrow passage leads directly to the papal Basilica. 
 
 LETTER X. 
 
 st. peter's "church. 
 
 ThE cathedral of St. Peter, before whose encircling 
 porticos, stupendous frontispiece, and gigantic dome, the 
 proudest temples of antiquity diminish into coinp.-rat'-ve 
 insignificance, is erected in the shape of a cross, upon the 
 
 * There are several inscriptions upon this obelisk. That of Aueushja 
 ^^WSS^S^^^ in potest, Populi Roi^i 
 SWITZERLAND.] h 
 
55 TRAVELS THROUGH 
 
 very site of the circus of Nero, which had been so often 
 stained with the blood of christian martyrs, as it to signa- 
 lize the triumph of Christianity over the pride and cruelty 
 
 of heathen Rome. 
 
 The hemisphere of the dome is seen from all parts ot 
 the Campagna di Roma, towering over the subjacent city, 
 at the western extremity of the suburb of Transtevere, a 
 name that defines its situation, beyond the Tiber, which 
 separates it alike (though not with the clear stream of the 
 ancients) from the seven hills of the Consular city, and 
 the plain at their foot, into which Papal Rome has imper- 
 ceptibly descended. / . , 
 
 The turbid current is traversed with equal enthusiasm by 
 the pilgrim and the traveller, who from the remotest regions 
 of the globe jostle each other upon the bridge of St. Angelo, 
 and scarcely noticing the castle (itself an object of two- 
 fold superstition, as the bulwark of the church and the 
 mausoleum of Adrian) press onward, through a dark and 
 narrow passage, which leads directly into the area of St. 
 
 Peter's square. . c 
 
 Dazzled with the sudden blaze of incredible magnificence, 
 the astonished spectator halts instinctively, to contemplate 
 the glorious vision, of whose reality he can scarcely assure 
 • himself, yet fondly cherishes the seeming illusion. 
 
 A sweeping forest of three hundred columns surrounds 
 the outer count with the swell of an amphitheatre, and 
 the circling colonnades are aptly inscribed with the meta- 
 phoric promise : There shall be a tabernacle, for a shadozo 
 from the heat, and for a covert from stonn and from rain, 
 Thev lead to ascending corridors, which form an inner 
 court four hundred feet square, and open into either end ot 
 the portico of the church, under the pathetic invitation : 
 Come and let us go up unto the mountain oj the Lord, to the 
 house of the God of Jacob. ... f , 
 
 An Egyptian obelisk of a single piece of red gram e, 
 originally brought from Heliopolis by the emperor Cahgul a, 
 occupies the centre of the outer court. It is eighty-five 
 feethMi, and nine feet square at the base, and on either 
 hind of the stupendous cone an ample fountain spouts a 
 column of water, which showers into a marble bason twenty 
 
 fe Six hundred feet beyond this glittering screen, oyer a 
 quarry of steps, rises the gigantic frontispiece It .n of 
 Se-stone, four hundred feet long, and a hundred and 6ft? 
 hi-b, supported by twelve columns of the Corinthian order, 
 
SWITZERLAND AND ITALY. 
 
 59 
 
 whose broad entablature is surmounted by an attic story, 
 and crowned with a balustrade. 
 
 Upon the apex of the pediment, embracing in his right 
 hand the symbol of salvation, there stands a statue of 
 Jesus of Nazareth, which is accompanied, upon the piers 
 of the balustrade, by the twelve Disciples that followed his 
 footsteps in the land of Judah. 
 
 At a distance of four hundred feet within the massy 
 frontispiece, is seen to tower aloft the immense rotunda of 
 the dome, surmounted, at an elevation of four hundred and 
 fifty feet, with a lanthorn, ball, and cross. 
 
 The great dome is accompanied by two lesser ones, 
 which, though fifty feet diameter and a hundred high, are 
 scarcely noticed in the stupendous out- line, for such is the 
 charm of proportion, that the greatness of the parts is lost 
 in the immensity of the whole. It is only by comparison 
 with objects of known dimensions that you can form an 
 idea of the unparalleled magnitude of the columns, the 
 entablature, or the statues of the frontispiece. You must 
 actually enter the doors of the portico, which you reckon 
 diminutive, to convince yourself that they are wide enough 
 for entering and retiring crowds to intermingle upon their 
 thresholds. 
 
 The portico, an interior arcade running the whole length 
 of the front, and forming the foot of the prostrate cross, 
 is fifty feet wide and five hundred long, including the width 
 of the two corridors at the ends, in each of which appears 
 an equestrian statue ; on the right Constantine the Great, 
 on the left Charlemagne, at distant periods the Champions 
 of the Church. 
 
 A stranger at his first visit to St. Peter's cursorily glances 
 over the marble columns, the brazen gates, and the stuccoed 
 arches of this magnificent vestibule, impatient to open on 
 the middle aisle, six hundred feet long, ninety wide, and 
 a hundred and fifty high. But at first sight of the Corin- 
 thian arcade, glittering in white and gold, it does not 
 strike the disappointed visitor as very long, very wide, or 
 very high, for neither length, breadth, nor height predomi- 
 nate in the proportions of this peerless nave, and he doubts 
 for a moment whether he beholds the largest as well as the 
 most beautiful structure that ever was erected by human 
 hands. 
 
 He compares St. Peter's to the rival edifices of London^ 
 Milan, or Constantinople, and scarcely suspects his error 
 till he approaches one of the fonts, and perceives that the 
 
 ii 3 
 
tkavels through 
 
 cherubs which support them are chubby giants. He looks 
 lip again at the resplendent vault, and discovers that he 
 cannot distinctly perceive the variegated fret work of the 
 immense compartments. He turns his eye across the 
 marble pavement, and remarks that he can scarcely hear 
 the distant footstep that slowly advances on the other side 
 of the nave. He darts a glance of astonishment toward 
 the golden tribune, at the west end of the temple, and if 
 the setting sun illumes the brazen canopy supported over 
 the altar of the dome by twisted columns, and irradiates 
 the tiaming glories that surround the Dove descending on 
 St. Peter's chair, as he approaches the bending radiance, 
 it will seem to fly before him, like the rain-bow of a passintr 
 shower. r ° 
 
 He presses on however, without stopping before the 
 chapels shining with marble, and glowing ' with mosaic 
 tints, to the opening of the dome, a hundred and fifty feet 
 diameter, and three hundred high, lighted by sixteen win- 
 dows, and ribbed into lateral divisions, in whose broad 
 circumference the twelve Apostles attend the Saviour, while 
 above them, in contracting rows, Angels and Cherubs en- 
 circle the mysterious ring, through which is faintly seen 
 the forbidden Image of the eternal Father. 
 
 Here he finds the altar, with its refulgent canopy, and 
 the chair supported by colossal saints, still at a distance 
 which he no longer ventures to estimate, and glancing his 
 eye along the transepts to the right and left, draws back- 
 ward, satiated with magnificence. 
 
 Recovering himself, by degrees, he listens to the dyinff 
 murmur of the pigmies that surround him, absorbed in the 
 profound recesses through which they are seen to enter or 
 emerge, when suddenly from a side chapel, before un- 
 noticed, the anthems of the choir arise in measured strains, 
 and the aerial vaults resound with seraphic symphonies, 
 now vibrating to single voices, mellifluous as the breath of 
 zephyrs through Eolian harps, now swelling with the full 
 toned organ to hallelujahs, solemn as the music of the 
 spheres. 
 
 His nerves thrill with rapture; he looks downward to the 
 hundred lamps, that burn continually in golden branches 
 ground the sanctuary, and (if a catholic) he humbles him- 
 self at the shrine of St. Peter, as did the queen of Sheba, 
 in the temple of Solomon. 
 
 Around the rim of the lanthorn, in the centre of the 
 dome, three hundred and thirty feet froin the pavement, is 
 
SWITZERLAND AND ITALY. 
 
 61 
 
 inscribed the dedication to St. Peter, by Sixtus the fifth: 
 
 S. PETRI GLORIJE, SIXTUS P. P. V. A. MDXC., 
 PONTiF V.* 
 
 And upon the frieze of the entablature, around the drum of 
 the cupola, is ostentatiously exhibited in letters of gold, 
 the ambiguous passage of St. Matthew : 
 
 TU ES PETRUS, ET SUPER HANC PETRAM CEDI- 
 FICABO ECCLES1AM MEAM ET TIBI 
 DABO CLAVES EE6N1 CCELORUM.f 
 
 Although it is sufficiently obvious that the text refers not 
 to Peter, the frail disciple that afterwards denied his Mas- 
 ter in the hall of "the high priest, but to the revelation of 
 the Son by the Father, as the sure foundation upon which 
 the church of Christ should be built, a spiritual building, a 
 house not made with hands, against which the gates of hell 
 should never be able to prevail. 
 
 On entering for the.first time, this imposing edifice, the eye 
 is too much dazzled by the splendour of the nave to remark 
 its surrounding accompaniments, however commensurate, 
 and the most attentive observer scarcely descries, athwart 
 the vast arcades, the vaulted roofs of the side chapels, 
 glowing at an awful elevation, with symbolic imagery, 
 from the visions of Ezekiel, and the Revelations of John. 
 
 In six elliptical compartments, three of them on either 
 hand, are displayed in brilliant mosaics, designed by the 
 first masters, after the descriptions of the prophets and 
 evangelists, the splendid emblems of supernatural agency, 
 that visibly accompanied the promulgation of the law, and 
 the introduction of the gospel. 
 
 The religious or poetical enthusiast may stand astonished 
 under the Flying Chariot, of the River of Chebar; or the Throne 
 set in Heaven, of the Isle of Patmos. The descending Glory 
 that announced the Promised Saviour, when he was baptized 
 of John in Jordan; or the opening Heavens, as when the 
 Martyr Stephen beheld the Soti of the Virgin standing at the 
 right hand of the Father Almighty. 
 
 But the rainbow of the nave is altogether independant 
 
 * To the glory of St. Peter, Pope Sixtus V, in the year 1590, the fifth of 
 his pontificate. 
 
 t Thou art Peter, and upon this rock will I build my church, and I will 
 give unto thee the keys of the kingdom of Heaven. 
 
62 
 
 TRAVELS THROUGH 
 
 of these sublime emanations, and you may count its colours 
 or pursue its flight, without ever perceiving the transcend- 
 ant appendages. 
 
 The cupola over the entrance to the chapel of the Sacra- 
 ment, which is the last on the right hand, less exception" 
 ably exhibits a Celestial Choir of Saints and Angels, per- 
 fuming an aerial Altar with clouds of incence, wafted from 
 golden censers, waving in the wind. 
 
 Within the iron gates of the chapel, interleaved with 
 glass to reflect the illuminations of the altar, is seen a cir- 
 cular Ciborio or Tabernacle for the Host, on either side of 
 which a golden Angel extends his protecting wings, in 
 imitation of the Cherubims of Glory, shadowing the Mercy 
 Seat. 
 
 Directly opposite is the chapel of the choir, a noble 
 apartment forty feet by fifty, with a splendid mosaic over 
 the altar, representing the Virgin Mother, under the mis- 
 taken emblems of the Spouse of Christ; the Wonder that was 
 seen in Heaven, a Woman cloathed zoith the Sun, having the 
 Moon under her feet, and upon her head a Crown of twelve 
 Stars. 
 
 The most pompous exhibition of ceremony or parade 
 rather diminishes than increases the effect of this wonder- 
 fid edifice. It is never more impressive, than, when silence 
 reigns over its vast vacuities, unhroken by distant and soli- 
 tary foot-steps retiring for the night, the unnoticed windows, 
 at the approach of evening, shedding a mystic twilight, 
 nndazzled by the glimmering lamps that twinkle around 
 the sanctuary. 
 
 Beneath the vast circumference of this aerial canopy 
 there reigns, day and night, summer and winter, that even 
 temperature, so favourable to meditation, since the double 
 doors never admit enough external air to alter the medium 
 of thirty-five millions of cubic feet, and the thickness of 
 the walls renders them impervious to heat or moisture. 
 
 You ascend to the summit of this prodigious edifice, by 
 the innumerable evolutions of a spiral ascent of no greater 
 inclination than will admit of the use of mules, for the pur- 
 poses of the building. Near the top of it are inscribed 
 the names of all the foreign potentates who in the course 
 of two centuries have done homage to the imperial pile. 
 
 This winding stair-way terminates at the flat surface of 
 the roof in a room for the custodi, from which you look 
 out upon a village of belfries and cupolas, concealed from 
 below by the massy balustrade, excepting the great dome,, 
 
SWITZERLAND AND ITALY. 
 
 63 
 
 which has heen boldly denominated the sun of the Vatican, 
 with its attendant satellites, and a galaxy of statues, whose 
 gigantic proportions must be measured by a standard of 
 twenty feet. 
 
 Here you may ramble about till you are weary upon a 
 pavement of brick or stone, the interstices of which are 
 filled up with an impenetrable cement. 
 
 Two external walks or galleries surround the basis ot 
 the dome, one of which is upon the mouldings of the base- 
 ment, and the other ten feet higher is continued through 
 the projecting abutments, which support the drum of the 
 vaults ; these galleries are three hundred paces in circum- 
 ference, little less than the eighth part of a mile. 
 
 From the former vou pass by a long entry into the inner 
 eallery, at a height" of two hundred feet from the floor. 
 This is four hundred feet round, and from its iron railing 
 vou may look down with safety upon the brazen canopy 
 of the altar (itself ninety feet high) and into the sunken 
 recesses of the sanctuary, surrounded by kneeling devotees. 
 
 At this elevation may be distinctly seen the mosaics 
 of the Four Evangelists, with their appropriate symbols, 
 occupying the angles which support the drum of the dome. 
 Of their enormous magnitude, an idea may be formed by 
 that of the cross keys, an ornamental appendage, which is 
 said to measure twenty-two feet in length. 
 
 The drum of the dome is ornamented by coupled pilasters 
 betweea the windows, upon the continued basement of 
 which are Cherubs supporting festoons. 
 
 Returning to the passage, you turn to the right or left, 
 for the avenues are double, and wind round the imper- 
 ceptible circle, between an outer and an inner wall, until 
 you come to a spiral stair-case, by which you mount per- 
 pendicularly fifty feet higher, and enter another gallery 
 within the dome, just under the spring of the vault. 
 
 From this elevated scaffold, you can perceive the coarse- 
 ness of the mosaic cubes, with which are formed the gigantic 
 figures of the concave, and you may thrust your hand into 
 a gaping fissure invisible from below. 
 
 You now ascend diametrically by unequal steps practised 
 between the inner and outer coping of the vault. 
 
 At the summit of the dome blind windows occasionally 
 open into the lanthorn, itself a cupola twenty feet diameter 
 and fifty high. t , , ; , , 
 
 From this stupendous elevation, little less than three hun- 
 dred and fifty feet, if you venture to look down upon the 
 
6<i TRAVELS THROUGH 
 
 pavement, the processions passing to and fro upon the che- 
 quered floor, remind you of ants upon a mole hill, and so 
 contracted is the perspective of the well of the dome, 
 that you mistrust with apprehension the perpendicularity 
 or the walls, and suspect the sufficiency of the lessening 
 pillars to support the superincumbent mass. 
 
 A rushing wind sets constantly from below, whenever 
 these windows are opened, and you gladly mount ten feet 
 higher to the outer gallery of the lanthorn, from which 
 you behold Rome at your feet, and stretch your eye over 
 the deserted plains of the Campagna to the Apennines on 
 one side, and the Mediterranean on the other. 
 
 Here you ascend fifty feet higher by another flight of 
 narrow steps turned within one of the butments, which 
 support the lanthorn, barely wide enough to admit one 
 person at a time. 
 
 This windiug passage lands you upon the floor of a co- 
 nical chamber, directly over the centre of the dome, from 
 which you pass into the upper gallery of the cupola, or 
 ascend, by a perpendicular ladder, into the hollow of the 
 ball. ■ i 
 
 Within this brazen globe, a man of six feet high may 
 stretch out his arms, or stand on tip-toe, while through ac- 
 cidental crevices in the beaten copper he perceives the 
 tremendous height, at which he is soaring in the air. 
 
 It takes ten minutes to descend from this stupendous 
 elevation, and when you emerge from its dark passage arid 
 winding stair-ways, you are glad to find yourself once more 
 upon the surface of the earth. 
 
 Such is this unrivalled monument of modern art, which 
 bears no marks of age or incongruity, although it was three 
 Hundred years in building, by the hands of twenty different 
 architects. 
 
 Begun under Nicholas V. in 14,50, it was carried on by 
 ISramante under Julius II. by Sangallo and Peruzzi under 
 .Leo A. and by Michael Angelo, who moulded the immense 
 concavity of the dome under Paul III. though he died 
 SixtuTv' finisIied b ^ Fontana , in the pontificate of 
 
 Succeeding popes and succeeding architects successively 
 added the lesser domes, the portico, the piazzas, and the 
 vestry intermediately ornamenting the interior with brass 
 ana: marble, and gradually securing the • paintings from 
 tne corrosive touch of time by incorporating them with 
 the wails in everlasting mosaic. 
 
 6 
 
SWITZERLAND AND ITALY. 
 
 Exclusive of the dome and piazzas, St. Peter's church 
 is twice as long, twice as broad, and twice as hHi as the 
 temple of Jupiter Olympius, one of the wonders & of anti- 
 quity, that still exhibits to tiie wondering traveller silent 
 of Greece" 7 P ° rtiC ° S stretchin S over th * prostrate' plains 
 
 St. Paul's at London, the only edifice of modern times 
 with which it can be worthily compared, does not inclose 
 within its vast vacuities, including its porticos, its turrets 
 and its dome, one fourth part of the cubic square of St' 
 Peters, the corridors of which would encompass Ludo-ate 
 Hill and the crowd of Fleet-Street, roaring with carts and 
 coaches, might rush on under cover of the circling piazzas, 
 as tar as Temple Bar.* ° r ' 
 
 It requires a quarter of an hour to walk round this made 
 circle, its circumference cannot therefore be less than a 
 pile, beven times as much would now encircle the crow- 
 ing metropolis of the United States; and the materials of 
 all its public buildings, though they conveniently accom- 
 modate the business, the pleasures,* and the devotions of 
 seventy thousand people, would be insufficient to create 
 such another edifice as the cathedral of St. Peter's the 
 most glorious structure that has ever been dedicated to 
 the purposes of religion. 
 
 iWta m ° St ri S id /^nter from the mosl rigid protestants 
 that have separated themselves from the corruptions of the 
 Romish apostacy might feel some flushes of enthusiasm at 
 the sight of a christian temple, more glorious than that of 
 Solomon, so long the admiration of the chosen people • 
 however convinced that the heart of man is the temple of 
 the Lord, and that a contrite spirit, the offering of the gospel 
 is a more acceptable sacrifice than thousands of ram, or 
 tens of thousands of rivers of oil. 
 
 The most frugal moralist among those reformed societies 
 that have brought their practice, the nearest to the simpli- 
 city of their profession, might hear without regret of the 
 
 and Charles Maderue, to render the cathedral of Christendom a monu^ 
 ment of Christ and his apostles. This obliged them to divide the frontis- 
 piece by a regular intercolumniation, upon the twelve piers of which should 
 thechurch 6 emphatically indicated as the pillars ef 
 
 SWITZERLAND.] j 
 
06 
 
 TRAVELS THROUGH 
 
 uncounted millions bestowed by Leo X. upon this splendid 
 edifice, since it was the unlimited sale of indulgences, oc- 
 casioned by this lavish expenditure, that gave rise to the 
 Reclamations of Luther and Calvin, against the impositions 
 of the Papal hierarchy. 
 
 ' Every professor of Christianity, traditional., or conscien- 
 tious, whether his creed adopts the sign for the substance, 
 or the substance for the sign, must turn with complacency, 
 perhaps with veneration, from temples dedicated to voluptu- 
 ous deities and exterminating heroes, to a church whose 
 original foundations were laid in the fourth century, by 
 Jhe survivors of the tenth persecution, for the worship of 
 a meek and self-denying Saviour. 
 
 LETTER XL 
 
 THE APPENDAGES OF ST. PETER'S. 
 
 BeNEATH the elevated balcony, from which are pro- 
 pounced over kneeling multitudes, the benedictions and the 
 anathemas of the tiara, and upon the bronze enclosure qf 
 the chair of St. Peter, at the west end of the nave, are ex- 
 quisitely embossed in brass and marble, the story of the 
 preat Shepherd, charging Peter to feed his sheep, and 
 that of his presenting him with the keys of the kingdom. 
 When the well-known allusion was made to the name ot 
 the apostle, as also signifying a stone. 
 
 ; Pretended infallibility might disclaim its literal construc- 
 tion'of the equivocal epithet, or recurring to the patriarchal 
 prediction of the stone of Israel; * the prophetic anticipation 
 of the royal psalmist, that the stone which the builders would 
 reject, should become the head of the comer or the promise 
 of the God of Abraham, by the mouth of the evangelical 
 prophet, " Behold I lay in Zion for a foundation, a stone^ 
 a tried stone, a precious corner stone.^ 
 
 " If however by this sublime annunciation concurring 
 prophets can be supposed to have proclaimed the apostle, 
 let ' the apostle himself explain the prophets: "Be it 
 known unto vou all (said Peter to the unbelieving Jews) 
 
 * Genesis xlix. 24. t Psalm cxviii. 22. J Isaiah xxviii. 16. 
 
SWITZERLAND AND ITALY. 67 
 
 that Jesus Christ of Nazareth, whom God raised from the 
 dead, is the stone which was set at nought of you builders ; 
 which is become the head of the corner* " 
 
 Among the monuments of art, with which St. Petei's 
 abounds in painting and sculpture, the most remarkable 
 are the Transfiguration of Raphael, the Communion of 
 Domenichino, and the St. Petronilla of Guercino da Cento. 
 
 These celebrated master-pieces are exquisitely copied 
 from the originals, in mosaic work, a species of colouring 
 which consists of square pieces of marble or composition^ 
 so perfectly arranged, that at the distance of a few feet, it 
 can only be distinguished from painting in oil, by the 
 marble gloss, that renders the colours more vivid. 
 
 Each of them contains fifteen or twenty figures larger 
 than the life, in a pannel fifteen feet wide, and twenty-rive 
 or thirty high. 
 
 I have mentioned them in the order in which thev are 
 usually esteemed at Rome, which is the scale of "their 
 respective authors, in the estimation of Italian conn6isseurs 5 
 but foreign taste, regardless of rules and reputation, fre- 
 quently reverses the rank of these particular productions of 
 those inestimable artists. 
 
 The ascension of St. Petronilla (a saint unknown to 
 protestants, but in the Romish kalendar, the daughter of 
 St. Peter) represents two scenes immediately dependant 
 on each other, however irreconcileable with the canonical 
 idea of the resurrection of the body, and the day of judg- 
 ment. At the bottom of the picture, two men are seen 
 lowering the corpse into the grave, adorned with flowers 
 alter the manner of antiquity, while the spirit appears 
 above in shining garments — the gracious Being that said 
 to the penitent thief on the cross, " this day shalt thou be 
 with me in paradise," receiving her into heaven without 
 the intervention of purgatorial fire : but it is not my inten- 
 tion, to implicate the faith of the painter, there is no heresy 
 in his performance, yet the peculiar delusion of this piece 
 is owing to the happy application of mosaic tints to the 
 strong colouring of Guercino, which produces upon the 
 polished surface the effect of a real bas-relief in coloured 
 marbles. 
 
 In the communion of St. Jerome, the dying saint dis- 
 plays the christian triumph over death, hell, and the grave, 
 as one about to receive the welcome sentence of, * f Well 
 
 * Acts iv. to, 11. 
 1 2 
 
05 
 
 TRAVELS THROUGH 
 
 done, good and faithful servant! enter thou into the joy 
 of the Lord." Yet the administering priests attend with 
 an air of affectation or indifference, but too well drawn 
 from the life. The shadow of the platter on which the 
 superannuated ofliciator tremulously conveys the conse- 
 crated wafer, falls So naturally upon the face of a kneeling 
 attendant, that fancy aids the illusion, and it seems to 
 waver under his palsied hand. 
 
 The transfiguration' of Christ before Peter, James and 
 John, when Moses and Elias appeared with him on Mount 
 Tabor, is exquisitely fine in the principal figure, self- 
 balanced in the air, and beaming with light. But the at- 
 tendant Prophets only serve as foils, and the story of the 
 Maniac, from whom the Disciples could not cast out an 
 evil Spirit, in the absence of their master, is strangely intro- 
 duced below, though we are told that the transfiguration 
 happened on a high mountain, apart. 
 
 The finest things in sculpture, as to design and execu- 
 tion, for all the monuments of St. Peter's are inconceivably 
 rich in variegated marbles, are the tomb of Clement XIII. 
 by Canova, a living artist, and that of Paul III. by William 
 de la Porte, a pupil of Michael Angelo. 
 
 These unequalled essays of modern sculpture are invari- 
 ably distinguished from other mausoleums of popes and 
 princes, equally rich and splendid, by the spontaneous 
 admiration of surrounding crowds. 
 
 The design of the former is equally simple and majestic. 
 A Genius in a disconsolate attitude extinguishing the torch 
 of life, and Religion triumphant, having at their feet two 
 lions, one sleeping, the other watchful, support a square 
 tomb, upon which the 'Pope appears kneeling in his ponti- 
 fical habits, the tiara at his feet. This incomparable 
 cenotaph is not less than twenty feet high, the whole exe- 
 cuted in white marble, except the lions and their pedestals, 
 in grey. 
 
 In the latter, Justice and Prudence lie recumbent on a 
 pedestal before the tomb of Paul III. who sits above in 
 the attitude of giving the benediction, the tiara on his head, 
 and on his finger the episcopal ring. The figure of the 
 Pope is of bronze, but those of Justice and Prudence of 
 white marble; the latter an aged matron, the former ayouth- 
 ful virgin, so charming in nature, dignity and grace, that it 
 was found indispensibly necessary to cover a part of the 
 body with bronze drapery. 
 
SWITZERLAND AND ITALY. 
 
 69 
 
 The statuary of Michael Angelo, and the Chevalier Ber- 
 nini at St. Peter's, is greatly inferior to these incomparable 
 performances. You must therefore here study the genius 
 of the former in the aery concave of the dome, and of the 
 latter in the splendid designs executed in gilt bronze, for 
 the decoration of the high altar and the papal chair. 
 
 It requires an hour or two to walk round the sequestered 
 aisles, and contemplate at leisure the splendid monuments 
 of the latter popes, and of such other sovereign princes as 
 have died at Rome, no meaner dust being suffered to repose 
 in state beneath this imperial canopy. 
 
 The cenotaph of Innocent VIII. whose pontificate says 
 his epitaph was illustrated by the discovery of a new world, 
 and that of Sixtus IV. both of them executed in bronze 
 by Antonio Bollajolo, a Florentine artist of the fifteenth 
 century, .were brought thither from the old church, the 
 floor of which had been arched over on building the new 
 one, as monumeuts of art too precious to be left behind in 
 its now subterranean recesses. 
 
 That of Sixtus is a low altar tomb upon the floor of the 
 chapel of the sacrament, on which the Pope lies at length 
 in his pontifical robes, surrounded by emblematical per- 
 sonifications of the Arts and Sciences, exquisitely embossed, 
 in demi-relief, upon its sloping sides. 
 
 Paul III. and Urban VIII. were the first eminent popes 
 inhumed in the new edifice ; both Sixtus V. and Paul V. 
 though one of them finished the dome, and the other the 
 frontispiece, having chosen to be laid in chapels of their 
 own, under the more immediate protection of the Virgin, at 
 Santa Marior Maggiore. 
 
 Queen Christina of Sweden, that singular compound of 
 fgrocity and devotion, who abjured her religion, and abdi- 
 cated her crown to spend her days in visiting the churches 
 and convents of Rome, lies here beneath a splendid monu- 
 ment, near the supposed remains of the countess Matilda, 
 so famous for her princely donation to the popes. 
 
 Here also repose the reliques of Mary, grand-daughter 
 of John Sobieski, king of Poland, and wife of the pretender, 
 the natural or the lawful son of James II. who long resided 
 at Rome with the empty title of king of Great Britain. 
 
 Beside these regal mausoleums, the most remarkable 
 tomb to an observer, who has more regard to the progress 
 of information, than to the attributes of infallibility, or the 
 perfections of art, is that of Gregory XI II. with a bas-relief, 
 representing the correction, of the kalendar, which was or- 
 
70 
 
 TRAVELS THROUGH 
 
 dained by that pontiff in 1584, though it was not till 1752 
 that England, habitually suspicious of papistical precedents, 
 could be persuaded to adopt the alteration of the style. "I 
 do not like new fangled notions/' said the old duke of 
 B- ,when the measure was proposed to him by the vola- 
 tile Chesterfield^ for his support in the house of peers.* 
 
 Such a reader as his grace of B would skim over the 
 
 technical information, that this historical monument was 
 sculptured by Rusconi, and is supported by colossal figures of 
 Religion and Strength ; he might perhaps mumble through 
 the various expressions in brass and marble, of the fertile 
 fancy of Monot or Algardi, but he would certainly drop 
 asleep, should I attempt to distinguish the vigorous pro- 
 ductions of Bernini in the statue of Longinus, and the tomb 
 of Urban, from the feeble efforts of his expiring genius 
 in the crowded cenotaph of the last pope Alexander. 
 
 An unbeliever in the christian system, will learn with 
 triumph or contempt, the imaginary miracles that strike 
 the eye at Su Peter's, with the aggravation of contrast, 
 amidstthe real wonders of art, by which they are surrounded. 
 
 Here an antiquated picture of the Virgin, preserved from 
 the rubbish of the old church, is hung, though but scantily 
 with votive tablets, and ludicrous representations of hair 
 breadth escapes. There St. Peter and St. Paul, the pro- 
 mulgators of piety and peace appear, in the clouds, sword 
 in hand, to defend Pope Leo from the incursions ofAttila, 
 king of the Huns. 
 
 Here Gregory the great converts the consecrated wafer 
 into a shoulder of mutton, to the utter confusion of an 
 unbeliever in the real presence. There some female martyr, 
 in emulation of St. Denis, carries her own head in her 
 hands to place it upon an altar, for the veneration of the 
 faithful. 
 
 But at Rome miracles are familiar, and all these wonder- 
 working saints attract little attention, in comparison of a 
 
 * Chesterfield liumorouFiv describes his own ignorance of the subject 
 ill the celebrated Letters to his son, of whom he would so gladly have made 
 a statesman or a philosopher ; but he was not do bois doat on en fait [the 
 stuff of which such things are made.] It was Lord Maccelesfield that framed 
 the bill, and supported it in a scientiheai speech, that nobody understood, 
 while Chesterfield displayed to such advantage, the astronomical phrases 
 be had got by heart on the occasion, plentifully interlarded with amusing; 
 episodes, and rhetorical flourishes, that it was his speech convinced their 
 lordships, and rang through all Europe as a master-piece of modern elo- 
 
SWITZERLAND AND ITALY. 
 
 71 
 
 brazen image of St. Peter, which was cast out of a broken 
 statue of Jupiter Capitolinus. It sits upon a marble pede- 
 stal, beneath a scarlet canopy, on the right hand of the 
 altar: a lamp burns constantly before it, the accompaniment 
 of the keys is not forgotten, the right foot extends with 
 a magisterial air, and men, women and children kiss it as 
 they pass, bowing and scraping adoration ! 
 
 A hundred clerks peiform the offices of the choir in the 
 various grades of priest-hood, from the caudle-snuffer to 
 the canon and the cardinal arch-priest, all of whom are 
 bound to live in a state of celibacy, and have apartments 
 in the vestry. 
 
 They assemble twice a day, in full dress, for matins 
 and vespers, when the pomp of instrumental music is ac- 
 companied by half a dozen eunuchs, whose enchanting 
 voices are sadly contrasted by their pallid faces and dis- 
 torted limbs. 
 
 It is a singular fact in the history of superstition, that 
 the chapter of St. Peter's, in white and silver, glittering 
 with illumination and fuming with incense, attracts but 
 few spectators, even among the church-going populace of 
 Rome. While crowds of devotees collect every evening to 
 chant the litany before a portrait of the weeping Virgin* in 
 a little chapel of the Piazza Colonna. 
 
 But the privileged performers of the papal cathedral, 
 do not even affect the semblances of zeal. JSioviciates often 
 smile at the awkwardness of initiation, and the canons 
 themselves sometimes slumber in their stalls. 
 
 The splendid mosaic of the chapel glistens with the 
 tapers of the altar, which is served with vessels of silver, 
 and covered with cloth of gold. On either hand is a 
 gallery for the musicians, and 1 have often heard thirty 
 performers at a time arrayed in linen vestments, chant- 
 ing alternately the responses of the choral service, in 
 which the canons and the clerks occasionally join, from 
 ascending desks parallel with the galleries, before which 
 benches are placed transversely for spectators ; but so few 
 attend at St. Peter's, that a philosophical observer may 
 speculate at his ease upon the ceremonies of the choir, 
 where no mark of co-operation or obeisance is expected 
 from strangers. 
 
 If tli is were not the case, the doubts of a protestant, or 
 £he scruples of a dissenter^ might be lulled to rest by tb.e. 
 
 * Mater Dolorissuna. 
 
72 
 
 TRAVELS THBOUCH 
 
 inscription over the organ loft, selected from the pious 
 rhapsodies of the sweet singer of Israel : 
 
 PSALLITE DEO NOSlRO* 
 
 But when the song of praise ascends, from the graduated 
 band of voices and instruments, sceptics and infidels might 
 listen with rising fervour to repeated hallelujahs, and bow 
 to the valedictory ascription of 
 
 GLORIA PATRl! ET FILIO ! ET SPIRITO SANCTO! 
 
 St. Peter's and its appendages are supposed to have cost 
 twenty millions sterling; as many centuries of progressive 
 ingenuity must have preceded the bold design ; and suc- 
 cessive generations have concurred to raise and to decorate 
 this magnificent temple, which concentrates the sublime 
 conceptions of a Raphael, a Canova, and a Michael An- 
 gelo, the painter, the sculptor, and the architect of a re- 
 volving period of the arts, which returns (if it returns 
 at all) like the comet of Newton, in an ellipsis of ages. 
 
 LETTER XII. 
 
 THE PALACE OF THE VATICAN. 
 
 The morning of yesterday, was fully employed in 
 r j un bling over the endless apartments of the papal palace, 
 t J e number of which you are gravely told exceeds eleven 
 thousand. Be that as it may, they have remained unoc- 
 c upied ever since the departure of Pius VI. the present 
 Pope residing altogether in the Quirinal, or Summer 
 Palace, in which his state can be maintained with a far 
 less expensive establishment than would be necessary to 
 people the twenty courts, and two hundred staircases of the 
 Vatican. 
 
 This irregular edifice, or mass of edifices, has been 
 erected at different periods, without any general plan, ac- 
 cording to the taste or convenience of successive priests and 
 princes. It has arisen by degrees, from the humble dor- 
 
 Sing unto our God. 
 
SWITZERLAND AND ITALY. 
 
 73 
 
 roitory of St. Liberius, or St. Symmachus, in the fifth cen- 
 tury, to the royal palace of Sixtus V. who erected the 
 magnificent court of St. Damasus, which has been ever 
 since the winter residence of the sovereign pontiffs, and 
 the Imperial Museum of Pius VI. who added to the dark- 
 some galleries of Sixtus, the splended Rotundas that 
 once inclosed the proudest monuments of the Arts. 
 
 The imposing pile is heheld as you approach the dome 
 of St. Peter's, towering over the northern ' Piazza, through 
 which coaches may drive under cover, a thousand or twelve^ 
 hundred feet, and set down at the entrance of the right 
 hand corridor, in the side of which a private door way 
 leads, by a winding ascent, into the great court or cloister; 
 around which, in three stories, run the celebrated piazzas, 
 one of which has been ornamented three hundred years by 
 the luxuriant fancy of Raphael. 
 
 But to go on by the principal entrance, the corridor, four 
 hundred feet long, terminates in the angle of the portico of 
 St. Peter's, in which is the statue of Constantine, astonish* 
 ed at the Vision of the Cross. 
 
 Here you instinctively cast an eye to the left, ranging 
 four hundred feet along the vaulted portico, to the distant 
 figure of Charlemagne, in the opposite corridor, before 
 you prepare yourself to ascend the marble steps of the 
 great stair-case. They extend from wall to wall, beneath 
 an Ionic colonnade, terminating in a half pace, from 
 whence another flight leads yon into the great hall, at the 
 far end of which you enter the chapel, where the car- 
 dinals assemble in conclave for the election of the 
 popes.* 
 
 It is in this chapel, called the Capella Sistina, because 
 it was erected by Sixtus IV. that the gigantic genius of 
 Michael Angelo has displaced all its sublimity, uncon- 
 
 * The great hall is called the Sala Itegia, because it was there that the 
 popes g ive audience to foreign ambassadors. In it, among other paintings 
 by Georgio Vasari, and other second rate painters, is Alexander III. (the 
 haughty pontiff that made the kings of France and England hold his stirrup, 
 and lead his mule) setting his foot upon the neck of the Emperor Frederick. 
 The Return of Gregory XI. from Avignon to Home; the Battle of Lcpanto, 
 gained over the Turks by Pius V. in which 30,000 Mahometans were slain, 
 and tbe Massacre of St." Bartholomew at Paris, during the pontificate of 
 Gregory XIII. by whom a medal was struck in commemoration of that 
 shocking event; on the reverse of which appears the destroying 
 Angel, with the cross in one hand, and the exterminating sword hi 
 the other ! * 
 
 SWITZERLAND.] K 
 
47 
 
 TRAVELS THROUGH 
 
 trolled, it is true, by the rules of decency, and unshackled by- 
 the fetters of truth. 
 
 Over the papal altar, at the west end of the chapel, in 
 a space forty feet wide, and fifty or sixty high, the daring 
 painter has depicted the Day of righteous* Retribution, when 
 the actions of men will be weighed in the unerring balance 
 of the Sanctuary. It swarms with innumerable figures of 
 angels, men, and devils, under the various impressions of 
 hope and fear. 
 
 But it is upon the coved deling of this celebrated chapel* 
 that Michael Angelo has peculiarly stamped the superna- 
 tural ideas of his fervid imagination. 
 
 The whole space is divided into compartments of dif- 
 ferent dimensions, with intervals for correspondent accom- 
 paniments. Along the middle of the vault are represented 
 Scripture Histories, from the stupendous moment of Crea- 
 tion, when God said, " Let there be light," and there was 
 light, to the portentous hour when our first parents were 
 driven out of Paradise, by the Angel with a liamimx 
 s.word. 
 
 At each end, and on both sides, prophets and sibyls 
 alternately impress the trembling spectator with the lamen- 
 tation of Jeremiah, and the visions of Ezekiel ; or contrast 
 the prediction of Isaiah, " Behold a Virgin shall conceive! 
 a Fir gin! bear a Son," with the incantations of the Delphic 
 Sibyl, who is said to have foretold the birth of Christ. Two 
 youths in concomitant postures of grief, of wonder, or of 
 fear, wait upon the revelations of the prophet or the sibyl, 
 and imbibe or impart the visionary rapture. While con- 
 tiguous angelsdevelope men or women, whose attitudes are 
 legibly impressed with the melancholy, the terror, or the 
 extacy of the particular Visionary to whom they refer; 
 or introduce some episode of Jewish story, fraught with the 
 accomplishrnentof prophetic denunciation, grisly Heads hung 
 out of a window, or new born Infants dashed against the wall* 
 
 * This famous dieting is said to have been painted forty years before 
 the picture of the Last Judgment, which must therefore have been a pro- 
 duction of declining age, especially as it employed the labour of elgbt 
 years. hiiagio, the then pope's master of the ceremonies, having ventured 
 some remark upon the shameless nudities with which the piece abounds, 
 the painter drew him as a Demon, and placed the poor courtier in hell, 
 from which situation he wittily excused himself from complying with the 
 pope's solicitation for his release: "If he had been in purgatory, vour 
 holiness could no doubt have released him, but in hell there is no re- 
 demption." 
 
SWITZERLAND AND ITALY- 
 
 At the other end of the great hall is the Capella Paulina, 
 in which are some rough sketches by the same master-' 
 hand ; this chapel being only intended for ceremonies that 
 require illumination, such as the exposition of the forty 
 hours, and the tenebm of the holy week. 
 
 On one side is another large hall, which leads to the 
 celebrated lodges of Raphael. They consist of thirteen 
 lofty arcades, erected by Leo X. forming one wing of the 
 second story of the court of St. Daraasus. 
 
 What is" usually reckoned the most remarkable in this 
 famous-gallery, is the Sacred History on the sides of the 
 coving of every lodge, from the dawn of Creation to the 
 last Supper of our blessed Lord. The latter is said to be 
 the only piece of the series immediately from the pencil 
 of Raphael, all the others having been painted by his 
 scholars, from the designs of their master. 
 
 But the infinite variety of invention, in the grotesque 
 ornaments, with which these lodges are covered, forms a 
 much fiuer specimen of the peculiar talents of this great 
 painter; and some libidinous exhibitions, that lie perdue 
 here and there, grossly indicate that the expenses of 
 St. Peter's were not the only temporal causes of the refor- 
 mation. 
 
 At the end of these lodges, a side-door opens into the 
 state a partments of Julius II. comonly called the chambers 
 of Raphael, because they were painted by him and his 
 scholars. They are four in number, all drawn from the 
 designs of Raphael, though those of the third only are 
 painted by his own unrivalled hand. 
 
 The first of them, called the Hall of Constantine, is a room 
 of thirty feet by sixty, the corners of which are ornamented 
 with Virtues, Geniuses, &c. among which Justice and Cle- 
 mency are easily distinguishable to the eye of taste, as 
 emanating from his own pencil. They are seen too with 
 peculiar Interest, from having been in hand at the time 
 ofhis early decease. 
 
 These figures form noble accompaniments to an immense 
 picture, which covers one side of the hall, representing the 
 Victory of Constantine the Great over the tyrant Maxentius 
 at the 'Ponte Molle. At one end of the apartment is seen the 
 pretended apparition of the Cross, while the Emperor was 
 haranguing his army before the battle, which is said to have 
 been accompanied' with these encouraging words, though 
 they were probably of much later invention, 
 
 s'2 
 
76 
 
 TR A.V E US T HR 0 U G H 
 
 In hop. -signo vincc?.* 
 
 In consequence of this victory, Conslaut'me is said to have 
 submitted to be baptized as a christian, by Pope Sylvester, 
 as is represented at the ether end of the room ; and between 
 the windows is depicted the Imperial Donation, afterward 
 made to the prelates of the Roman See. 
 
 The second chamber, twenty-five feet square on one side, 
 represents the apocryphal sto"ry of Heliodorus, prefect of 
 Seleucus, King of Assyria, when he was sent to pillage the 
 Temple of Jerusalem, from which he is driven awav by two 
 angels at the prayer of the high priest Onias. Here the 
 vanity of Julius has forced Raphael into an anachronism 
 equally false and incongruous. The Pontiff in a velvet 
 cap and slippers, appears tranquilly seated in an armed 
 chair, upon the shoulders of his Vacant porters, in the 
 midst of this scene of confusion. 
 
 Opposite, St. Leo the Great, in the likeness of Leo X. 
 attended by two cardinals mounted upon mules, which are 
 almost entirely covered by their flowing robes, meets Attilu 
 on his way to Rome, and threatens the ^barbarian character- 
 istically enough, with the vengeance of St. Peter and St. 
 Paul. The meek Apostles accordingly appear in the clouds, 
 brandishing naked swords, over the affrighted chieftain, 
 notwithstanding they have themselves left it upon record, 
 that the weapons of their warfare were not carnal. This 
 piece however is said to be by Raphael's own hand. 
 
 On one side of this chamber, Julius is again present, 
 kneeling at an altar; while his brawny porters "repose them* 
 selves below, at which a priest of Bolsena is represented 
 elevating the Host, from which are seen to trickle drops 
 of blood, to convince the astonished offieiator of the doc- 
 trine of the real presence, of which he is said to have before 
 entertained some doubts; a fictitious miracle, which however 
 seasonably wrought, at the moment when the harbingers 
 of reformation first dared to disbelieve, proved altogether 
 ineffectual to arrest the progress of reviving truth. 
 
 Between the windows is" St. Peter in prison, when the 
 Angel came to him by night, caused ilk chain to fall from 
 off his hands, and led him forth into the streets of Jerusalem. 
 In this piece three different lights are thought to be very 
 
 * Under tfcis baime* thou shalt ctmquetv 
 
SWITZERLAND AND ITALY. 
 
 77 
 
 happily expressed, but I should have preferred the un- 
 broken effect of a single one, emanating from the effulgent ^. 
 Angel. 
 
 The third chamber, which was entirely wrought by 
 Raphael himself, contains his master-piece, the School of 
 Athens, which was also his first essay at Rome. In this 
 admirable performance you aro at a loss, whether most 
 io admire the invention, the character, or the style. The 
 scene is an open portico of magnificent architecture. Plato 
 and Aristotle appear in the midst discoursing philosophical- 
 ly. On one side Socrates lectures Alcihiades. Below Py- •"•V*- 
 thagoras in the midst of his pupils descants upon the prin- 
 ciples of harmony. Diogenes reposes upon one of the 
 steps, enjoying his book and his porringer, and Archimedes 
 traces a hexagon upon the floor, for the instruction of a 
 noble youth ; while Zoroaster contemplates a globe, near 
 which the painter has introduced himself, his master 
 Peragino, and his patron Bramante. 
 
 In the opposite pannel, the Doctors of the Church bold 
 a theological argument upon the mystery of the Sacrament, 
 one of those things that have been hid from the wise aad pru- 
 dent, to be revealed unto babes and sucklings. 
 
 Over the windows on the right and left are subjects, 
 indifferently treated, though by the pencil of Raphael, who 
 has however introduced among the ornaments of the 
 cieling allegorical personifications, sublimely characteristic 
 of Poetry, Philosophy, &c; the eye of the former, as Shake- 
 speare says, in a fine phrensj/ rolling. 
 
 In the fourth and last chamber, the only picture attri- 
 buted to the hand of Raphael is the Conflagration that 
 happened in the neighbourhood of the cathedral, in the 
 time of St. Leo IV. who shews himself at a window of 
 the old church, and the superstitious multitude prostrate 
 themselves at his feet for his apostolic intercession. 
 
 Opposite to this sketch, the perspective of which is very 
 defective, Leo 111. another equivocal saint, canonkalh/ 
 purges himself from the crimes imputed to him, in the 
 presence of Chademagne. On the third face, the Prelate 
 crowns the Prince in the church of St. Peter; and on the 
 fourth another Leo, of still more dubious sanctity, tri- 
 umphs over the Saracens at the port of Ostia. 
 
 Returning to the Loggia, and continuing along the 
 second and third wing, you enter the private apartments, 
 from whigh a covered gallery ; carried over intervening streets 
 
TRAVELS THROUGH 
 
 and houses for the space of half a mile, connects the pon- 
 tifical palace with the castle of St. Angelo.* 
 
 Descending to the ground floor, a door on the left opens 
 into the grand corridor of the Belvidere, twenty feet wide, 
 and nine hundred long. An iron gate half-wav along this 
 gallery is the entrance to the Vatican Library, it was 
 formerly kept a* St. John de Lateran's, hut Martin V. re- 
 moved it to this palace, the old apartments having be- 
 come too small, in consequence of the large addition made 
 to the Papal library by Nicholas V. and Sixtus IV. 
 
 Sixtus V. erected the present superb apartment. It is 
 divided into a double arcade, two hundred feet long and 
 fifty wide, by a range or quadrangular piers, around which 
 as well as along the walls, the books and manuscripts are- 
 preserved in close presses, the uppermost shelves or which 
 are within reach from the floor. 
 
 In this famous library, in which Nicholas V. liberally 
 deposited the literary treasures of the east, which he ac- 
 quired from the Greeks who fled into Europe on the taking 
 of Constantinople, there is a small folio of Virgil, sup- 
 posed to be at least thirteen hundred years old. It is 
 broader than it is long, and the text is written wholly in 
 capital -letters without points. 
 
 But the curiosity of an Englishman will be much more 
 powerfully excited by Henry Villth's Defence of the Seven 
 Sacraments, against the exceptions of Martin Luther, 
 which procured for the sovereigns of England, the title 
 they still maintain of Defenders of the Faith. It is inscribed 
 upon the title page with the following monkish distich: 
 
 Anglcrum Rex Henrious Leo Deciino niittit 
 Hoc Ouus et fidei tesiem ot amicitiay.f 
 
 The letter which accompanied it is also preserved. It 
 begins thus, " Beatissdme Pater post humillimam commen- 
 
 * By this gallery in 152?*, when Rome was sacked for the lust time by 
 the troops of Charles V. under the command of the Constable de Bour- 
 bon, Clement VII.. saved himself from the fury of the onset in which the 
 city was given up to pillage ami slaughter, not as in barbarous ages by 
 Goths and Vandals, but by the subjects of a catholic prince, who kept his 
 spiritual father a long w.hile in close confinement ; yet at. Madrid the im- 
 pel ial hypocrite could blind the eyes of the faithful, by directing prayers and 
 processions for the deliverance of the head of the church. .. 
 
 t Henry king of England presents to Leo X. this testimony of his 
 faith and friendship. 
 
SWITZERLAND AND ITALY. 
 
 79 
 
 dationern et devotissima pedum oscula beatorum." * The 
 superscription runs 
 
 Sanctisshno clementissimoqiie Domino Patro Papje.f 
 The two fiht points asserted by Luther appear to have 
 been, " Indulgentiai sunt adulatorum Romanorum ne~ 
 quitia;," and " Papatus est robusta- venatio Romani Pon- 
 tifieis.j " 
 
 There are also seven love letters written to Anna Boleyrj, 
 before marriage,, in the barbarous French of that age. One 
 of them begins thus, (< Ma Mastres et Amye, Moy et moa 
 coeur se niestet en vom mains, vous suppliant lesavoir pur 
 reconVmandgsi a votre bonne grace, et que par absem votre 
 affection ne leur soit diminue." <?> 
 
 At the end of the hall you enter a transverse gallery, 
 the left wing of which is richly furnished with Etruscaa 
 vases, and christian antiquities; the latter very rude, having 
 been mosiiy discovered in the catacombs. 
 
 It terminates in a cabinet, the walls of which are lined 
 with Egyptian papyrus, and the ceiling is painted in fresco 
 by Mengs, the last painter of original genius that was bora 
 or patronised in Italy. He has here depicted a beautiful 
 allegory of History, writing her memorandums upon the back 
 of Time, jj 
 
 In the right wing there is a collection of engravings, and 
 a cabinet of antiques, particularly rich in medals, cameos, 
 intaglios, gfcc. At this end of the gallery, an iron gate 
 richly ornamented, communicates with the great stair-case 
 of the Clementine Museum. 
 
 Returning through the library into the great corridor 
 and going on towards the Museum, you observe upon the 
 right hand wall, an immense number of antique tablets, 
 with inscriptions in Greek and Latin, an 
 
 — ample page, 
 
 JUch with the spoils of Time 
 
 * Most holy Father, after my humble duty, and devout salutation of 
 your sacred feet. 
 
 t To the most holy and most clement Lord r-.nd Father the Pope. 
 
 J Indulgences ;ire an iniquitous invention of the Roman courtiers. The 
 papacy is the great sin of the Roman pontificate. 
 
 § Sweet heart, I put myself and my heart into your keeping, beseeching 
 you to accept this recommendation to your favour, that absence may not 
 diminish your affection, ike. 
 
 || jVIen-s was a -German. Carlo Marratti, who flourished in the seven- 
 teenth century, was the last Italian artist, whose works are legibly supep* 
 scribed, « to posterity," in the universal langunge of truth and nature. 
 
06 
 
 TRAVELS THROUGH 
 
 You come at length to a flight of steps, at the top of which 
 is an iron gate, by which you enter the unparalleled Museum 
 founded by Clement XLV. and perfected by Pius VI. 
 
 It is a' suite of ten or twelve magnificent apartments, 
 superbly enriched with sculptured walls, and painted cieh- 
 ings, in which have been arranged with correspondent 
 dignity the various objects of inventive art, that once 
 decorated the baths, the palaces, the forums, the temples, 
 and the tombs of the conquerors of the world. 
 
 In the outer vestibule, a small cube, among other less 
 interesting objects, are preserved the monuments lately dis- 
 covered in the tomb of the Scipios on the Appian way. 
 
 These precious reliques consist of a sarcophagus, 
 ornamented with roses and triglyphs, surmounted with 
 folding scrolls, and inscribed with the name and honours 
 of Scipio Barbutus, the bust of a youth crowned with laurel, 
 no doubt one of the three mentioned by Cicero, in descri- 
 bing the tomb of the Comelii, two of which were of that 
 noble family, and one of their protegee, the poet Eh ni as, 
 (some fragments only of which poets have escaped the 
 ravages of time) and a number of laconic inscriptions, one 
 of which records Cn. Cornelius Scipio Hispanus, and 
 another Cornelius Scipio Comatus, a youth that died at the 
 age of sixteen*. 
 
 The inner vestibule is a circle, in the midst of which 
 was once placed upon a, pedestal, the famous Torso of the 
 Belvidere, the workmanship of Apollonius, the son of 
 Nestor. It was a headless trunk, without arms or leg-, 
 greatly admired by Michael Angelo, and after him by all 
 professed artists andconnoissures, though a common observer 
 would not be likely much to regret that it is now replaced 
 by a plaster cast, the French having conveyed the original 
 to Paris. 
 
 Each of the four niches with which it is surrounded, 
 contains other admired fragments, for the contemplation of 
 the curious ; but as I prefer legs with feet, and necks with 
 
 * Scipio Barbatus was consul in the year of Rome 456, three hundred 
 years before Christ, the inscription upon this, tomb is therefore one of the 
 most ancient that has come down to our times. It follows, -verbatim el 
 literatim, for the satisfaction of the curious. 
 
 CORNF.TTVS. EVCIVS. SCIPIO. RARBATVS. 6NAIV0E. PATE PROGNA1VS. 
 TORTIS. VIR. SAPIENSQUE. — QVOIVS. FORMA. VI RTVTET. PARISVMA. EVIT. 
 
 CONSOL. CESOR. ^DILIS. QVEI. FVIT. APVD. VOS.— TAVU ASI A . CISAV- 
 
 5IA. SAMINIO, CEPIT. — SUBIGIT. OMNE. LOVCANAi 0P3IDESQ V£. ABDOV- 
 CIT. 
 
SWITZERLAND AND ITALY. 81 
 
 heads on, to all the mutilations of time and chance, I shall 
 pass on through the chamber of Bacchus, where I see 
 nothing worth particular notice, to 
 
 The court of statues, under the colonnades of which, 
 among sareophaguses of marble, and basons of basal tea 
 and\granite, the edges of which are as square as if they 
 had been cut hut yesterday, by chisels of forgotten temper, 
 were exhibited to the admiration of successive ; ges r those 
 miracles of art, the Apollo Belvidere, and the Groupe of 
 Laocoon ; hut the French have transported them both 
 beyond the Alps, and they are now replaced by models m 
 -plaster. 
 
 From the court you enter the hall of Rivers, winch 
 begins the unparalleled suit of rooms that was added to this 
 museum bv Pius VI. . 
 
 A vestibule formed by colonnades, divides the had into 
 two, for tee reception of recumbent statues of thev Tiber 
 and' the Nile, the original" of which now repose upon the 
 banks of the Seine. 
 
 The vestibule is paved with ancient mosaics, representing 
 among other objects an eagle devouring a hare; and it is 
 lined,"as are the two wings, with an infinite variety of birds 
 and beasts, executed in the richest and hardest marbles, 
 emulating the natural colours of the animals they represent. 
 
 The hall of Rivers communicates on the right with the 
 gallery of statues, where among many fine things there_ 
 is nothing worth particular notice,since the sitting figures ot 
 Posidippus and Menander, of Trajan and Demosthenes, 
 (the emperor holding in his hand a globe, as the sign or 
 universal empire) have been removed to Paris, together 
 with the recumbent effigy of Cleopatra, with the asp upon 
 her arm. 
 
 At the. end of the gallery, two columns and an arch 
 successively admit you'into three chambers of bustos, in 
 which, upon marble slabs, continued round the rooms, are 
 placed a vast number of antique heads. Among them you 
 readily select the well known characters of the elder Brutus, 
 of Scipio Africanus, of J ulius Caesar, &c. In the middle of 
 the second of these chambers are two superb tables of verde 
 antique, and within a niche at the end of the third, is a 
 Jupiter Fulminans, which the French have left (I know not 
 for what reason) sitting upon his eagle, the scepter in one 
 hand, and the thunder-bolt in the other. 
 
 From these chambers you pass intoan open balcony, lined 
 
 SWITZERLAND.] L 
 
TRAVELS THROUGH 
 
 with statues, which reconducts you to the upper end of the 
 gallery, through a cabinet elegantly decorated with all the 
 reHnements of modern taste, for the reception of some 
 beautiful statues of Venus, Adonis, Ganymede, &c. with 
 correspondent has reliefs, and a tesselated pavement, 
 found in ihe Villa Adriana, with a most beautiful border of 
 fruit and flowers. 
 
 You now re-enter the right wing of the hall of Rivers, the 
 vestibule of which leads into the chamber of the' Muses, 
 a vast and beautiful apartment, whose cieling, blooming 
 with the Loves and Graces, is supported by sixteen columns 
 of Carrara marble, with antique capitals from the Villa 
 Adriana. 
 
 Here are richly enshrined, Apollo, and the fabled Nine, 
 flere are, did I say ? I should have said, here were, for 
 Thalia and Melpomene, Clio, Erato, Calliope, Urania, 
 Euterpe, Terpsichore, and Polyhymnia, were all swept 
 away at a stroke, together with, the Termini of the Grecian 
 sages, by which they were originally accompanied. Some 
 of the blocks were with heads, and some of them without. 
 Among the latter, alas! Solon and Pittacus. Among 
 the former Plato, Epicurus, Demosthenes, Zeno, and 
 Periander. 
 
 Let us go on to the Rotunda, a hall of fifty feet 
 diameter, with ten windows, richly intercolumniated, and 
 a vaulted roof ornamented with stucco. 
 
 Ten collossal busts, of peculiar elegance, once stood 
 around the superb apartment upon blocks of porphyry. 
 The most remarkable of them were those of Adrian and 
 Antinous, the Sun and the Ocean, and the geniuses of Tra- 
 gedy and Comedy, all of which had been found in that 
 inexhaustible mine of antiquities, the Villa of Adrian. 
 
 The colossal statues, intended to adorn this Rotunda, had 
 riot been placed in their niches when the French depredators 
 decimated this unparalleled collection, to enrich the gallery 
 of Paris. The most remarkable of them were those' of 
 the Goddess Juno, and of the Emperor Nerva. 
 
 The pavement is black and white mosaic, representing 
 Medusa's head, with a. border of Sea Monsters, was found 
 at Otricoli, and in the midst, upon a bronze-stand four feet 
 lijgh, is a bason of porphyry, fifteen feet diameter. 
 
 From this Imperial Hall, you pass into a chamber in the 
 shape of a Greek cross, by a bronze door, the jambs of 
 which are of red granite," and they are supported by 
 
 \ 
 
Switzerland and italy. 
 
 S3 
 
 Egyptian Caryatides of the same imperishable material, 
 twelve feet in height. They stand on pedestals, and bear 
 vases upon their heads, or rather upon an entablature, the 
 frieze of which is an antique bas relief, representing a 
 combat of lions and gladiators. 
 
 The most remakable objects iri this room are two pro- 
 digious blocks of porphyry, embossed with figures, the 
 heads of which are in full relief. One of them was brought 
 from the ancient temple of Bacchus, now the church of St. 
 Constantia, where it contained the ashes of the daughter 
 of Constantine. The other was found among the ruins 
 of the tower, called Pignatara, a few miles without the 
 gates of Rome j and is supposed to have been the tomb of 
 St. Helena, the mother of the first Christian Emperor. 
 The pavement is a mosaic, which was found at Tusculum. 
 
 This apartment opens into the great stair-case. It is of 
 Carrara marble, divided into three flights. One of them 
 descends to the library, the garden, 8&c. and the other two 
 lead to the upper galleries. It is decorated with twenty 
 columns of granite, beside statues, vases, &c. 
 
 Asceading the marble steps, you enter a long gallery, 
 divided into six apartments, by as many arches, supported 
 by Ionic columns. They are all lined with Vases, Tripods, 
 Candelabra, Demi-columns, and Egyptian Idols of the 
 rarest marbles. 
 
 But before you advance, art iron gate invites you to peep 
 into a lesser Rotunda, still more richly decorated than the 
 former^ and ennobled by a view of the dome of St. Peter's, 
 which appears at a distance through one of the windows. 
 In the middle of the apartment is an antique Car with two 
 Horses, driven by a victor at the Olympic games. 
 
 Passing through the six divisions of the gallery of vases, 
 with a cursory glance at the innumerable objects they 
 contain, you enter the picture gallery of the Belvidere, of 
 which I shall say nothing, as every thing particularly 
 valuable has been selected by the French. 
 
 Returning to the great-stair case, you may descend into 
 the garden, if you choose ; but it contains nothing remarka- 
 ble to a French or English traveller, excepting the pedestal 
 of the column of Antoninus Pius, which was raised to hi£ 
 memory by his adopted sons Marcus Antoninus and Lucius 
 Verus. 
 
 It is a single block of white marble twelve or fourteen fee* 
 equare^ ornamented with superb bas reliefs.. One of theia 
 
 h 3 
 
43 
 
 TRAVELS THROUGH 
 
 represents the Apotheosis of Antoninus and Faust ina, with 
 whom a powerful Angel ascends to heaven. Below this 
 groupe, on one side is a Roma Triumphans, on the other a 
 figure of Eternity, embracing an obelisk. 
 
 LETTER XHI 
 
 XOilAN TEMPLES AND OTHER ANTIQUE ED] F1C k9. 
 
 Of the many heathen temples at Rome/ which have been 
 converted into Christian churches, although several are 
 strikingly beautiful, yet none are comparable to the 
 Pantheon in respect either of sublimity or preservation. 
 
 This majestic Rotunda has withstood the injuries of time 
 and nature ever since the age of the Consuls. By them the 
 gigantic concave was dedicated to Cybele, the fancied 
 mother of the gods, and her numerous progeny, celestial, 
 terrestrial, and infernal, as in after times, by the Popes, to 
 the Virgin Mary, and all the saints of the kalendar. 
 
 It was originally a simple dome, a form of all others, 
 the least liable to decay, as if intended by its founders to 
 endure for ever. 
 
 The interior is a hundred and fifty feet diameter, and an 
 hundred and fifty high, within solid walls of Roman brick, 
 little less than twenty feet in thickness. They are only 
 perforated by a single door, twenty feet wide, and a single 
 window, in the centre of the vault, large enough to admit 
 at once a sufficiency of light and air. 
 
 Agrippa, the son-in-law of Augustus, added the marble 
 portico, forty feet by eighty, or ninety, supported by sixteen 
 Corinthian columns, five feet diameter and forty high, 
 although each of them is but a single piece of red granite, 
 with bases and capitals of white marble. The Augustan 
 inscription is still legible upon the frieze. 
 
 M. AGRlPPA It: F.COS. TERTIUM FECIT*. 
 
 Within a lofty niche, on each side of the entrance, the 
 royal favourite proudly or impiously placed colossal statues 
 
 * Erected by M. Agrippa, the son of L, in his fehird consulate. 
 
SWITZERLAND AND ITALY. 
 
 of himself, and his adoptive father, and the self-created 
 deities are supposed to have appeared again above in, 
 triumphal cars, upon the square towers which rise to the 
 entablature of the edifice, and now terminate in modern 
 belfries. But every thing of that kind, on the outside of the 
 building, has long been overthrown and buried in the 
 accumulated rubbish of surrounding ruins, occasioned by 
 the ravages of the Goths and Vandals, the effect of* 
 successive conflagrations, and the silent devastation of 
 corroding time. 
 
 The bold concavity within remained uninjured, amidst 
 the fallen walls of neighbouring edifices, by which two of 
 the massy columns of the portico had been crushed to pieces, 
 and a sallow hue is to this day the only indication of remote 
 antiquity in the minutest mouldings of the pediments, sup- 
 ported over the perpetual altars, by coeval pillars of por- 
 phyry and granite. 
 
 This magnificent temple was stripped of its images, its 
 sacrificial vessels of gold and silver, and its ornaments of 
 precious stones, by Constantine II. who removed them to 
 Constantinople, then the seat of empire ; and the bronze 
 doors, curiously embossed, were taken away by Genseiic 
 king of the Vandals, and afterwards lost in the Sicilian Sea. 
 It remained for Pope Urban VIII. in our own times, to 
 strip the beams of the portico of their bronze plates, for the 
 brazen canopy of St. Peter's. 
 
 On beholding, for the first time, this prodigious rotunda, 
 the spectator involuntarily stops at the entrance, and surveys 
 with astonishment, tinctured, perhaps, with apprehension, 
 the immense concavity of the dome, which is seen so 
 much nearer the eye than that of St. Peter's, as to impress 
 more strongly with an idea of physical impossibility and 
 invisible support. 
 
 From hence the opening in the centre, appears to be of 
 moderate dimensions, although it is little less than thirty 
 feet diameter; and through it the sight of clouds and azure 
 in the ambient air adds unspeakable sublimity to the arti- 
 ficial hemisphere. 
 
 The circling walls, encrusted with marble, presents alter- 
 nate niches and colonnades, forming ample recesses within 
 the thickness of the walls ; and the compartments of the 
 vault are said to have been originally plated with silver. 
 
 The everlasting pavement has been chiefly laid" with, 
 porphyry and granite,, and the centre piece, a circle, of 
 
86 
 
 travels TiiRornn 
 
 tea or twenty feet diameter, is perforated with holes, 
 to carry off the rain which occasionally enters from above. 
 
 There is nothing remarkable among the seven altars, 
 which have supplanted the pedestal* of the heathen Gods 
 ever since the year 606, when the Emperor Phocas assigned 
 this temple to Pope Boniface the fourth. 
 
 The busts of .Raphael, of Annibal Caracci, of Poussin, of 
 Metastasio, of Winkelman, and of Merits, are modestly 
 placed in circular niches around the wails, and serve to 
 point or to recal appropriate meditations, which are 
 here frequently disturbed by clamorous beggars, and idle 
 devotees. 
 
 Towards evening, when these were withdrawn, I have 
 often niched myseif in a corner of one of the recesses, to 
 review the evanescent Scenes connected with the history 
 of this everlasting edifice, when, separated from the 
 jarring world by the impervious circle, I could fancy 
 myself secured, like it, from the effects of years and 
 revolutions. 
 
 But the Pantheon is not the only monument of Roman 
 magnificence, that rears its venerable head in a form that 
 promises to endure as long as the globe on which it stands : 
 two others remain uninjured, the witnesses, and the survivors 
 of the decline and fall of the Empire of the World. 1 mean 
 the Doric columns, erected in the respective forums of 
 Trajan and Antonine. 
 
 Of these unparalled pillars, a single block of white marble, 
 two-and-tvventy feet square, forms the plinth ; fonr others, 
 placed two along, and two across, makes the pedestal ; 
 another gives the base ; twenty or thirty more turn the 
 shaft, in circular blocks, often or twelve feet diameter; 
 and another, twenty feet square, displays the soaring 
 capital, a hundred and twenty or thirty feet 'in the air. 
 
 The pedestal of that of "Trajan is enriched with bas 
 reliefs, representing missile weapons, and coats of mail, 
 and the shafts of both these matchless columns are fretted 
 with tiie historic scenery of the successful expeditions of 
 the respective emperors, represented by some thousands of 
 figures, occasionally interspersed with towers and gal lies, 
 curiously embossed upon a spiral bandelet three feet 
 leide, which forms fifteen or twenty evolutions, gradually 
 rising to the abacus. 
 
 A door in each pedestal opens into a spiral stair-c:ise, 
 •which perforates the shafts, and leads out upon the capitals, 
 
SWITZERLAND AND IT A£"Y« 87 
 
 on whose proi>d elevation were anciently placed colossal 
 statues of Trajan and Antonine ; but the mutilated remains, 
 which survived the devastation of the middle ages, mere 
 removed by the princely prelate Sixtus V. to make way for 
 those of the chief of the apostles, St; Peter and St. Paul. 
 
 These superb columns are of a dingy hue, and to the 
 height of forty or fifty feet, they bear the marks of manv a 
 heavy shock, from the fail of surrounding edifices. They 
 now stand, like the effects of enchantment, in the midst of 
 modern buildings, which have successively risen upon the 
 rums of the ancient forums, and effaced every vestige of 
 contempo rary gran d e n r* . 
 
 Having contemplated the remaining monuments of 
 ancient Rome, which preserve entirely the perfect hannonv 
 of their original proportions, let us now take a walk across 
 the elevated site of the capitol, which is disguised by the 
 porch and turret of a modern town house, and after looking 
 down the precipice of the Tarpeian rock, a cliff that would 
 now scarcely give tragic sublimity to a lover's leap, let us 
 descend into 
 
 The Roman Forum, now a common field without the town, 
 only distinguishable here and there by a broken portico, or a 
 mutilated arch, interspersed with prostrate columns, and 
 mouldering capitals, half buried in the earth. On one 
 side are the remaining vaults of the temple of Peace, in 
 which were deposited the spoils of the Sanctum Sanctorum, 
 whose sacred vessels had been restored by Cyrus, together 
 with the children of the captivity ; on the other "the shapeless 
 ruins of the palace of the Cesars, overshadowed with 
 funeral cypresses, which have emblematically supplanted the 
 laurels of the Palatine hill. In front are the yet undilapidat- 
 ed arcades of the gigantic Coliseum,, towering at a respectful 
 
 * Trajan died of a dysentery, in the city of Seleucia, while they were 
 finishing at Rome, the column that should perpetuate his victories. 
 Adrian, however, transported his remains from Asia, and placed the 
 ashes in a golden «;lobe in the left baud of a colossal statue of Irs 
 benefactor. On one side of the pedestal may still be read the followhur 
 nwnpuon : f 
 
 S. P. Q. R. 
 
 IMP. C^ESARI. D. NERV.7E F. 
 NERVJE TRAJANO AUG. GERM. DACICO. 
 POXTIF. MAX. TRIB. POT. XI L IMP. III. COS. VI» 
 P. P. 
 
 AD DECtAHANDUM QUANT* AETITVDIMS. 
 MOM S. FT J.OCUS TANTIS OPESIBUS SIT EG EST Vt. 
 
SS TRAVELS' THROUGH 
 
 distance, over intermediate objects of majestic ruin ; .among 
 which are the fallen Temples of the Sun and Moon. 
 
 Going down the venerable hill, you pass between three 
 columns and a piece of entablature, exquisitely wrought, 
 which once formed a corner of the magnificent Temple ot 
 Jupiter the Thunderer, ( erected by Augustus in gratitude 
 for his safety, when a freed man was struck dead by his 
 side) and an Ionic colonnade, the only remains of that 
 Temple of Concord in which Cicero convened the senate, 
 to impeach the treachery of Catiline. 
 
 On the frieze of the latter, may still be read this la- 
 conic inscription. 
 
 S. P. p. R. INCENDIO CONSUMTTUM R EST ITU E RU N T * 
 
 Below these interesting mementos of classical antiquity, 
 you pass through the Triumphal Arch of Septimus Severus. 
 It is now almost buried in a hill of rum, and the Imperial 
 Car with its four brazen Horses, has long been tumbled 
 from the crumbling entablature. > 
 
 Farther on is a little chapel, which has been erected 
 over the dungeons of the Mammerline prison, whose dark 
 and humid cell is now venerated by all good catholics, as 
 the place where St. Peter and St. Paul were confined by 
 the tyrant Nero. There also the unfortunate Jugurtha 
 was starved to death, by the civilized savages of antiquity 
 
 On one side of this horrid dungeon is the Scala Gemonia, 
 or hill of groans, upon which the bodies of real or pre- 
 tended malefactors, executed in the prison, were barba- 
 rously thrown out, to amuse the ferocious curiosity ot the 
 populace of Rome. ... 
 
 Advancing along the Via Sacra, so called from the religi- 
 ous processions of heathen Rome, you pass on the left 
 the portico of the Temple of Antoninus and Faustina, 
 the body of which has long been converted into a christian 
 
 church. ii 
 
 At a distance on the right, there stands a single column 
 of some unknown edifice/not one stone of which has been 
 left upon another, excepting the shaft and capital of this soli- 
 tary pillar, which looks as if it had been dropped from the 
 clouds, among the miserable hovels that have been framed 
 around it.. 
 
 A little farther you see three noble columns, which stitJ 
 
 * Restored by the S. P. Q. R. when consumed by fire. 
 
SWITZERLAND AND ITALY. 
 
 - -69 
 
 supports a massy portion of the rich entablature, of the 
 Temple of Fupiter Stator. 
 
 Beyond these are the fallen arches of the Imperial 
 Palace, on<e-the abode of the Roman Caesars, now a mass 
 of undistin,niishable ruins, concealed by rubbish, and en- 
 tangled wih briars and thorns. 
 
 Two semcircular piles, however, at a prodigious distance 
 from each nher, still exhibit half a rotunda, and support 
 in the air half a dome, the naked compartment of which 
 once plated with silver, vaulted over a colonnade of the 
 richest marbles of Paros or Numidia, glittering with fo- 
 liage of Co-inthian brass. 
 
 But the towers of the Septizonium, seven ranges of 
 columns which reared aloft the eastern portico are now 
 totally pnstrated, and their precise situation is no longer 
 remembered. Three stories of this superb colonnade re- 
 mained uishaken, till the time of Sixtus V, when they 
 were removed by that indefatigable pontiff, to decorate 
 the tombs md altar-pieces of the cathedral of St. Peter. 
 
 From tie proud balconies of this incomparable palace, 
 Tiberius aid Mero, Commodus and Domitian, could over- 
 look the irea of the circus Maximus, whose incredible 
 dimension occupied the whole space between the Palatine 
 Mount aid the Aventine hill. Within its vast circum- 
 ference, u the sight of a hundred and fifty thousand spec- 
 tors, the iharioteers of Rome used to drive seven times 
 around tie conical goals, which terminated the Sptttf, 
 frequently overturning, and trampling upon each other, 
 in their hjadlong course. 
 
 One oi these balconies remains unbroken, or at least 
 repaired, from whence the imperial Pandars sometimes 
 directed tie public amusements, sometimes ignobly descend- 
 ed into tie area, to assist in person at the foot races, or 
 the cours-s of horses and chariots, round the Egyptian 
 obelisks, vhich now dignify the Piazza del Popolo, and 
 the court >F St. John. 
 
 The central spina was then surrounded by a broad and 
 deep can;l, upon which sea-fights were sometimes exhibit- 
 ed, a boist of Rome, that "would now be the jest of 
 Britain. 
 
 But th> chariots and the obelisks, the gallies and the 
 canal, h;ve disappeared alike, and the length and the 
 breadth o' the wide extended area, can now oqly be traced 
 upon the slopes of a cabbage garden ! 
 
 Let us return to the forum. Opposite to the palace^ 
 
 6WITZER.AjSD.] m 
 
$0 
 
 TRAVELS THROUGH 
 
 are the three brick arches, that once formed as many re* 
 cesses of the Temple of Peace, the vast concaves officii 
 are fretted into square compartments, that have long since - 
 lost the sculptured roses of stucco, of marble, perhaps of 
 silver or of gold, with which they were once interleaved. 
 
 Here this venerable field, so richly strewed with the spoils 
 of antiquity, contracts itself to a single arch, which is sup- 
 ported by Corinthian columns, and fretted with bas reliefs 
 - of the most exquisite workmanship. It is that of Titus 
 erected in the commemoration of the destruction of Jeru- 
 salem, and the dispersion of the Jews, those awful events 
 which had been expressly predicted in the sacred records. 
 
 I could never contemplate this arch but with a deoree 
 pf veneration, as a visible proof of scripture historv, sina-u- 
 3arly corroborating that of the actual situation of the chil- 
 dren of Isarel, without a king, and without a prince, without 
 a sacrifice, and zcithout teraphim. 
 
 Within the arch is a marble bas relief, five or six feet 
 \n height, and ten or twelve in length, in which are repre- 
 sented the sacred vessels of the Holy of holies, which Moses 
 was commanded to make in the wilderness of Zin, according 
 to the pattern which had been shown him on the mount, jfs 
 the table of shew- bread, with its rings aud its staves; the cup 
 of libations; the silver trumpets, with which the sons of Aaron, 
 ■ were to gather together the congregation, to sound an alarm, or 
 to sanctify a fast ; and the golden candlestick of seven branches 
 with its bowls, its knops and its forcers, three branches coming- 
 out of the one side, and th ree out of the other. 
 
 Upon the frieze of the southern frontspiece, a reclining 
 Jordan is conveyed in triumph by the people of the prince 
 that should come ( so said the prophet Daniel, 'in the days 
 of Darius the Mede ) to destroy the city and the sanctuary, 
 and to cause the sacrifice, and the" oblation to cease. 
 
 It is said that the Jews of Rome have always avoided 
 pacing under the arch of Titus, as a monument of their 
 national subjugation, and departed polity. 
 
 However this may be beggars frequent it without scruple, 
 and deafen the curious observer while he is studying remote 
 allusions, or poring over the adulatory inscription : 
 
 SENATUS POPULUSQUE ROMANES, DIVO TITO, &C.^ 
 
 With vociferous exclamations of « Dio vo'aceompagn'a 
 * The senate aad p eo pie of Rome to the god Titus. 
 
... \ 1. ■ i • <il 
 
 SWITZERLAND AND ITALY. 91 
 
 <<ia Madonna !* or " Date me quelq'ose per le anirtie Sante 
 del Purgatorio !"* 
 
 This venerable arch is at the entrance of a long passage, 
 enclosed between high walls, which being a noted resort 
 of foreigners, is generally lined with whole families of the 
 begging tribe, among them I once overheard a mother 
 teaching her child the trade. • 
 
 At the end of this passage is a second held Or common, 
 in which are situated the amphitheatre of Vespasian, and 
 the Arch of Constantinfe the great ; at a little distance are 
 also massy fragments of the baths of Titus, in which was 
 found the wonderful grouse of the Laocoon, and the 
 painting of the Roman Marriage, which is allowed to be 
 the finest specimen of that art, among the ancients, which 
 has been recovered from the ruins of ages. 
 
 We are now in the forum of the Flavian amphitheatre, 
 the most imposing edifice, excepting the Pyramid of Cheops, 
 that has decended from antiquity, to confound the calcu- 
 lations of modern art. The amphitheatre, however, enclo- 
 ses an area of no less extent than that of the pyramid. 
 
 One side of the majestic circumference still rises to 
 the height of one hundred feet, by three rows of open 
 arcades, and one imperforated story, ornamented with 
 intermediate columns and pilasters of all the Grecian orders, 
 surrounded with the Roman composite. 
 
 The other half of this immeasurable structure has 
 been long partially dilapidated, not by the incursions 
 of Goths and Vandals, nor the explosion of an_ earth- 
 quake, but by domestic and ignoble enemies, the Farneses 
 and the Barberini, who found in its solid masses a quarry 
 of marble or a pit of limestone, for the enormous piles they 
 reared in the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries, under 
 the fostering indulgence of Paul HI. and Urban VIII. 
 
 Quod non fecef unt barbari fecetunt Barberini,* 
 
 said the indignant populace, at the shameful abuse of this 
 unparalleled monument of the glory of their ancestors. 
 
 The external arcade forms an oval of six hundred feet 
 Ion"-, and four hundred wide, originally shelving down 
 within by marble seats, whose contracting rows formed an 
 area for the exhibitions three or four hundred feet over. 
 
 * God accompany you to the Madonna ! Give me something fo- tee 
 salce of the holy souls in purgatory. \ . . 
 
 f What the barbarians left has been destroyed by the Harbermi. 
 
S' 2 TRAVELS THROUGH 
 
 Iti thh vast arena, Titus is said to have produced fe« 
 thousand W1 ld beasts, on the day of its dedication to enter": 
 Umwith s lg hts of cruelty and honor, the idlers of ImpS 
 
 *hSP with 'hvfr f th 1 naked S ladiat or S> 
 
 armea with a shield and a dapper tpmn^ 
 
 ? ual conflict with the i^'iSS^^lJ^^Stk 
 
 ^Sto? en % 9 ^ the UDh W etches were often 
 ommanded to turn their arms against each other, and hVht 
 till one or the other fell, when°the fainting victim if not 
 already dead, received from the roaring gal]?r es accord W 
 
 dismrssar 1 " ° fthe m ° m ™> the ^eng^S 4 ^ 
 
 Enough ; perhaps too much of Roman crueltv, or I could 
 
 ^ii:izt hoim > barbarous as ^ 
 
 ihlchurT ncT d P 0t h t S beeU latterI ^ consecrated by 
 s T T ffe^ r ^ r f v U5 e P,a 7 c 7 e . wbere T ny ° fthe first Christians 
 
 S mS"' g toJlght ™ th heasts > as ms *• 
 
 A wooden cross now occupies the centre of the area 
 privileged (if 1 recollect right) to confer forty days of P S 
 
 mss UP a°nd tT who shall gss ft ^sTey 
 
 pas,, and the inner circumference of the stupendous 
 elhpsis „ now christened with fourteen equi distant chapels 
 "pon tile frontispieces of which are painted a 3 
 cumstancesof the eventful story of our blessed Redeems 
 wh^arehere called the fourteen mysteries of £ ! pS 
 
 These chapels are occasionally visited by the neidi- 
 bhilS T nk$, ' Wh ^ a / 6 ™QWe/bjr -owds o J f women a^ d 
 children, to recite before each of them with noisv zeal a 
 certain portion of the litany * ' 
 
 andhssZ I f p leyea 'V t,lhlk first of May, the lads 
 and lasses of Rome affect a pilgrimage to the distmt 
 churches many of which now lid a Sille or two i tl e 
 con^Sd^ gth f ° rSaken ^ the s — ive regulars that 
 tion to f/ TT i t0 - a § e ?. wit{) real or pretended devo- 
 
 lament a I** ^ the P °P e and hi * cardinals, to 
 
 So*? Qn CaptU! ^ ^ tbe livers of » modern 
 
 On these edifying occasions I have seen the spnVhtlv 
 pilgums romping with jocund glee, from church tofhurch, 
 hU the playful truants of a country school, alter- 
 
SWITZERLAND AND ITALY. 
 
 Bately bestowing their balmy kisses upon the forsaken 
 images, and upoa each other, with mingled merriment and 
 devotion. 
 
 The arch of Constantine has a centre and two posterns. 
 It is adorned with columns supporting- an attic, and inter- 
 spersed with bas reliefs, which exhibit a striking proof of 
 the decay of the arts, before the decline of the empire. A 
 number of them of the boldest design and the freest relief, 
 were taken from an arch of Trajan, and strangely contrast 
 with the unvaried outline and flat projection of those 
 which were made on purpose for the last Imperial arch, in 
 the beginning of the fourth century. 
 
 They exhibit rude indications of approaching barbarism, 
 yet the inscription ascribes to the emperor the saving of the 
 state, with ail the pomp of Roman eloquence in the best 
 days of the republic. 
 
 iXSTINCTU D1VINITATIS, ET MENTIS MAGN1TUDINE.* 
 
 The entablature is nobly ornamented on each front by 
 four Dacian Captives of exquisite workmanship, in atti- 
 tudes expressive of their melancholy situation. These were 
 taken, as well as the beforementioned bas reliefs, from 
 the dilapidated arch of Trajan, in whose time the arts had 
 attained that pitch of perfection, from which they so sud- 
 de»ly declined. 
 
 It has been fondly imagined that the inscription upon 
 this arch alludes to the vision of the cross, and the accom- 
 panying promise, in hoc signo vinces; but if such sounds w ere 
 really heard before the battle of the Milvian Bridge, a 
 Christian can feel no hesitation in describing them to any 
 other power than that of the Prince of peace.f 
 
 Between the Coliseum and the Tiber you may examine 
 the open tunnel of the Cloaca Maxima, a part of which 
 is still in good repair, though constructed by Tarquinius 
 Priseus, in the infancy of Rome; and successively con- 
 
 * By the inspiration of the divinity, and the greatness of his own 
 Blind. 
 
 f I have often hcen shocked with the unseemly arrogation of this appro- 
 priate title by u Spanish Grandee, and wondered that foreign prints kavr: 
 so familiarly adopted a distinction that borders on impiety. As to the 
 Spaniards themselves it is quite of a piece with their Co:iceptio, their 
 Santksima Tvlnidada, and their Salvador del Mundo, applied with no les 
 absurdity tba n irreverenee to ships c>f war the u;o 3 t powerful en&iucs of 
 destruction, 
 
g4 TKAvfeLS TIlTtOUGJt 
 
 template the venerable temples dedicated to Vesta and to 
 Fortuna Virilis, by Numa Pompilius and Servius Tutlias, 
 the second and the sixth kings of Rome, now disfigured by 
 modern reparations. ' ' , . i ' r 
 
 Then tracing in the bed of the river the foundations ot 
 the triumphal bridge, over which none were permitted to 
 pa^s but the generals and their legions, returning in trr- 
 mnph from the kingdoms they had subdued, you may 
 moralize upon the countless horrors of three hundred and 
 twenty two triumphs, which were granted between the days 
 of Romulus and Probus, to the cruel claim of destroy- 
 ing, in a single battle, five thousand of the enemies ot 
 
 Rome. > T . « , G , r • . 
 
 Farther on yoit may discover the remains ot the bublician 
 Bridge, so called from the beams of timber with which it 
 was originally constructed, and from which, after it had 
 been converted into marble, were precipitated into the 
 Tvber the brutal emperors Comtnodus and Heliogabalus, 
 W the vengeful fury of that very populace upon whose 
 necks they had till that moment trampled with lm- 
 
 PU Above are seen the picturesque arches of the Ponte. 
 Rotto, or broken bridge, originally the Pons 1 alatinus, 
 which had been rebuilt as lately as the sixteenth century,- 
 but was soon afterward half swept away by an inundation, 
 and has never since been repaired. > ■ 
 
 Not far distant is the only bridge now remaining at 
 Rome of the age of the Consuls and the Caesars. It has 
 b^en thrown at twice over the Tyber, by means ot an island 
 in the river, now covered with houses ; and remaining in- 
 scriptions preserve the memory of the respective foun- 
 ders, Fabrieius. and Curtius, two consuls ot the ancient 
 
 16 P^rsuincr our route toward the walls we see the church 
 of San Stel'ano Rotundo, the elegant colonnades of which 
 were originally dedicated to some heathen god ; and we 
 may perceive at a distance the Pyramid of Cams Cestius, 
 tipon the Via Astia, the only monument ot that form now 
 remaining at Rome.* 
 
 * This indestructible rmuisoleup is a hundred feet square, and as many 
 high. There are several inscriptions upon it; By one of thern 
 
 C. CESTIU9. I.. F. POB. EPULO. PR. TR. PL. 
 VII. VIE. EPULOrlUM. 
 
 fcs illustrious occupant appears to have been one of the seven officers wh* 
 tad the directions of the sacrificial feasts* 
 5 
 
SWITZERLAND AND ITALY. $5 
 
 Reaching at length, through crooked lanes, formed bv 
 *hewa Is of surrounding vineyards, the gate of St. Sebas- 
 tian, the Portus Capenus of the wall of Aurelian, without 
 burning aside to trace the endless labyrinth of the baths of 
 karaca la, or to examine the unaccountable composition of 
 of the MonsTestaceus, a considerable hill entirely formed 
 pi fragments of ancient pottery, we behold with veneration 
 the everlasting pavement of the Appian Way * 
 
 On the left hand is the tomb of the Horatii, now a shape- 
 Jess mass ot Roman brick, disguised by a modern turret, 
 tox the convenience of a vine-dresser. 
 
 On the right, if I mistake not, is that of the Scipios, 
 forgotten by tradition, though recorded by Livy, till it was 
 accidentally discovered in 1780, when its precious contents 
 were lodged in the museum of the Vatican.f 
 
 JVpt far distant is the principal opening of the catacombs 
 thpse endless excavations, which were originally formed bv 
 digging puzzolana for the enormous edifices* of ancient 
 itome, and are now venerated by the Catholic church is 
 the burying-place of the primitive Martyrs, into which I 
 shall not venture to descend, nor shall I pledge my veraeitv 
 upon the number of miles, through wbicrTit i* said the 
 Winding cavities may be pursued. * 
 
 On the opposite side of the Roman way, at the distance 
 p a mile or two after the ancient pavement has been quitted 
 by the modern road, is the superb mausoleum of the wife 
 Ot Crassus, that Crassus whose wealth was a counterpoise 
 to the name of Pompey, and the fortune of C.-esar since 
 he was one of the Triumvirate, which at Lucca divided 
 the dominions of the Roman world. 
 This noble monument, more durable, perhaps moresplen- 
 
 pftrS^Sw^ f an *f- , race amons the endless waIIs of t1ie 
 librnHes nn P ! U ' n ' ^*y*«» a » ™™>™ rotunda, a theatre, two 
 
 Plane r,li f t' J***?*") a grove (then planted with the 
 KK e) 11 wl,,ch wer f P laced chairs for poets, philosophers, and rhe! 
 SS\£iS? tuples; beside the rooL wheVe the" wrestlers ut 
 
 tkh ^ IZ 7 Weie S ^V edwUhduSt aft£T havm * beea anointed 
 witti oil, where they sunned themselves, and where tbcv exhihitoH fcfe* 
 
 r p T S cina g r S; IT' bCSlde te,TaCeS fm *W*S the di s e cu b so 
 W pf,f ' * P °° ° r Swm,mers ' and baths whether cold, tepid, warm or 
 £of SS S Tt 10 accommoda te three thousand per ons at a Sme! 
 pr Perfv 2g* b-umsf to which the batlj 
 
 properly so called^were nothing more than a sensual appendage 
 
 status M,n?. P ° rtam ca P cmi ™"**>'s in Scipionum monutnento tres 
 
 fm. MSJr^ 641 - *J^**~? tertian 
 
TRAVELS THROUGH 
 
 ■XA than the tomb of Mausolus, erected by Artemisia (a 
 toM of ancient Greece, when she proudly despised *e- 
 J?. an of the west) is a round tower sixty feet clminetei, 
 ^ f"om a s qu «« basement. It was once 
 Si h°a dome, and there still remains a beautiful entab atu e 
 o wh^te inarble. It is of the Doric order, bearing ox-heads 
 llT, with garlands, in the alternate metopes, which shew 
 no marks of age, but the perfection of the workmanship, 
 and the laconism of the inscription, 
 
 CiEClLIiE 
 Q. CRETlci F. 
 METELL.E CJJASSl* 
 
 inscribed in large capitals upon a marble pannel. 
 
 The form and the materials of this magmhceut structure 
 would seem to have entitled it to endless duration, if * 
 I d been left to time and nature; but the dome was le- 
 velled to make room for a fortification in the wars of the 
 I, rons and in less turbulent times, when the ort became 
 immense blocks of stone were successively drawn 
 awa fro "one side of the tower, for the purposes of neigh- 
 WvnUuildings, until it was discovered that there ; wa 
 celT n°the centre. It was broken into with avidity in the 
 hoi o treasure, and the dust of Cecilia, which had reposed 
 aXoivlnd year's in a marble -cophagus,^ ded y im- 
 penetrable darkness, was in a moment scattered to 
 
 ™ Noifor from hence, in a winding valley, is the fountain of 
 the nvmp Eoeria, visited- in ancient days lor oracular 
 1 in" 2 by the pious Noma ; but the spot is now scarce- 
 iraistu^s&le amidst surrounding thickets, by a broken 
 
 *1^g Sdflfome^ithout visiting the ambiguous 
 of The^Circus of Caracalla, in crumbling brick work. 
 
 f-M-t r were move probable ttsat uxt wmp _ 
 ftioric substance, winch aright kindle 6« the aduns^o^ of an. 
 
SWITZERLAND AND ITALY. 97 
 
 But before we turn our backs upon this seat of deso- 
 iation, silent and solitary as the deserts of Arabia, let us 
 walk through one of the arches of those stupendous aque- 
 ducts which conveyed to Rome the water of distant springs, 
 not by the simple principle of hydrostatics, the discovery 
 of which in our times has precluded the necessity of such 
 expensive structures, but by an artificial level, procured 
 with immense labour, by piercing through hills and arch- 
 ing over valiies. The gigantic arcades 'yet stretch their 
 interminable arches in various directions across the deso- 
 lated plain> like endless chains of inconceivable communi- 
 cation realized from the fictions of romance. 
 
 As we go on toward the city by the pavement of the 
 Appian way, let us examine the artificial construction by 
 which the ancients seem to have bespoken for their works 
 the perpetuity they inherit. The pentangul ar stones are 
 of a bluish flint, and they have been selected of unequal 
 sizes from one to three feet diameter, and twelve inches 
 thick. They were bedded in a layer of gravel, which has 
 since hardened into one solid mass, and the layer itself 
 rests upon a bed of sand, closely rammed down. The 
 surface is flat and the joints never run in the direction of 
 the road, thus the carriage wheels were prevented from 
 ploughing up the pavement by running between the stones. 
 Ihe Appian and Flaminian ways are scarcely fifteen feet 
 wide, and would therefore be insufficient for two modern 
 carnages to pass at once, but they were sufficiently spaci- 
 ous for two. and even three of the ancient cars. 
 
 By making a considerable circuit without the walls we 
 may visit the church of St. Constantia, the daughter of 
 Constantjne ihe Great, all the females of whose family 
 have been sainted by the gratitude of the Popes. 
 
 Passing by the gate of St. Lawrence, we can see withia 
 the walls the ruined temple of Minerva Medica, a majestic 
 decagon, whose soaring dome, irregularly perforated by 
 decay, and hung round with ivy, in the inimitable taste 
 of time and nature, has long formed one of those picturesque 
 objects which artists intuitively select for elegant imitation. 
 
 Ihe church of St. Constantia was once a temple of 
 Bacchus. Its interior is still the most beautiful, though 
 not the most magnificent, specimen of ancient architecture 
 in its kind. 
 
 A lofty dome springs lightly from the arches of a circu- 
 lar colonnade (I think of doric columns) coupled, not 
 longitudinally but diametrically, and by that means unitine 
 
 SWITZERLAND.] jf 
 
OS 
 
 TRAVELS THROUGH 
 
 strength with lightness, a beauty rarely aimed at in Grecian 
 architecture ; and an exterior row of single columns ori- 
 ginally farmed a circular aisle around the graceful cell. 
 
 But the outer colonnade is now walled up, and the ex- 
 terior elegance of the aerial structure, once open on all 
 sides to the approaching votary, has been totally obliterated 
 by concealing the swell of the dome, with an angular roof. 
 
 Again entering within the walls of Rome by the Porta 
 Pia, after walking a long way, between the parallel walls 
 of vineyards and gardens, we may admire the frontispiece 
 of the Fontana Sislina, erected by Sixtus V. to ornament 
 the reservoir of an ancient aqueduct, repaired by that 
 magnificent prelate, among the many stupendous works 
 which will ever illustrate the five years of his pontificate. 
 
 Within its lofty arcades is represented in alto relievo, 
 the appropriate story of Moses striking the rock, in the 
 wilderness of Kadesh, and before them are placed in gardant 
 attitudes, four Lions of Egyptian workmanship, the hard- 
 ness of whose materials had preserved them from being 
 crushed to pieces beneath the falling columns of the 
 Pantheon. 
 
 This elegant and useful structure is surrounded by the 
 wide spread departments of the bath of Diocletian, some 
 of the recesses of which have been turned into public store- 
 houses for wine and oil, and others of them have been 
 converted into churches and convents. But the greatest 
 part of them now exhibit to the curious spectator little 
 more than frowning arches and mouldering walls. 
 
 LETTER XIV. 
 
 MODERN CHURCHES. 
 
 AFTER having seen St. Peter's, it is natural to suppose 
 that no other church can engage curiosity or arrest 
 attention, yet among the two or three hundred that 
 embellish Rome, numbers are astonishingly rich and beau- 
 tiful. 
 
 Some of these, which are comparatively small, present 
 fronts adorned with columns and pilasters, one or two stories 
 high, in every imaginable combination of architectural sym- 
 metry, and are gracefully moulded withii* into rounds and 
 
SWITZERLAND AND ITALY. 
 
 09 
 
 e>va'ls, or distributed into aisles and domes, their walls encr ust- 
 ed with painting and marble, and their cielings pannelled 
 with stucco, often richly gilded, and sometimes hung 
 with festoons of fruit and flowers, in gilt bronze, according 
 to the purest style of Grecian ordonnanee. 
 
 Several of them defy the effect of comparison, even in 
 point of size, as soon as you enter their folding doors, 
 and perceive that thousands of such beings as you'' behold, 
 traversing the aisles, or kneeling before the altars, might 
 range the ample pavement, without incommoding each 
 other; and some of these contain single altar pieces in the 
 name of favourite Saints, far superior in size and rich- 
 ness to any at St. Peter's, where particular decora- 
 tion has been necessarily sacrificed to general uni- 
 formity. 
 
 Of the principal churches, whether within or without 
 the walls, I shall take particular notice, after having 
 mentioned several others, in which there are single objects 
 that merit description. 
 
 At the Trinita da Monte, the chapel of a convent, which 
 owe* its foundation to St. Lewis, and which has shewn its 
 gratitude to the memory of its founder by portraits of the 
 long list of French monarchs painted on the walls of its 
 cloister (now probably terminated for ever by that of 
 Lewis XVI.) is a celebrated fresco of the Descent from the 
 Cross by Daniel de Volterre. 
 
 At the convent of Capuchins in the Piazza Barberini, 
 is Michael chaining the Dragon, a painting by Guido, 
 from which was taken the Mosaic at St. Peter's, the coun- 
 tenance of the Archangel, beaming with celestial mildness, 
 a little of which has been lost in the copy, however admira- 
 ble in other respects. 
 
 At the church of the Augustines is the Isaiah of Raphael, 
 which is said to have been attempted in emulation of the 
 Prophets of Michael Angelo, in the Capella Sistina. A 
 vain attempt. There is no more holy zeal in the Prophets 
 of Raphael, than virgin purity in his Madonnas ; no won- 
 der, since the latter are supposed to be nothing more 
 than portraits of the favourite mistresses of a dissipated 
 youth. 
 
 At St. Andrea della Valle are admired the cupola paint- 
 ed by Lanfranc, and the St. John of Domenichino. 
 
 At St. i\gnes, a beautiful little church, with a noble 
 dome, elegantly contrasted without by two open spires 
 or turrets, \ s a bas relief, by Algardi, representing the 
 
 N % 
 
100 
 
 TRAVELS THROUGH 
 
 Saint (a Roman Virgin) miraculously covered by her own 
 Lair; when dragged into the Lupanaria of the Circus Ago-? 
 nalis, in. order to be defiled. 
 
 At St. Pietro in Vincoli is the unfinished tomb of 
 Julius II. celebrated for a statue of Moses, by Michael 
 Angelp. 
 
 A beautiful chapel on the Quirinal Hill is remarkable 
 for being erected on a ground plot, no more than 
 equal to that of one of the piers which support the dome of 
 St. Peter's. 
 
 The church of Santa Maria delta Pace is celebrated 
 for a fresco of Raphael, which represented the Sibyls of 
 antiquity receiving or communicating oracular inspiration^ 
 but it is fading from the walls. 
 
 Those of San Pietro Montorio, and San Jeronimo della, 
 Carila, have been stripped of their ancient boast, the 
 master pieces in oil by Raphael and Domenichino 
 (originals of the Ascension and Communion of St. Peter's) 
 to enrich the insatiable corridor of tlpe gallery of 
 Paris. 
 
 The venerable church of St. John de Lateran was 
 originally built by Constantine the great, together with an 
 adjoining palace in which the bishops of Rome resided for 
 many ages before they assumed the. title of Pope, and 
 exchanged the Mitre for the Tiara. 
 
 They were both destroyed by fires in the fifteenth cen- 
 tury, and the church was soon rebuilt, but the Pontiffs 
 then preferring the more central residence of the Vatican., 
 the Palace remained in ruins, till the time of Sixtus V. who 
 erected a superb edifice for occasional residence, which has 
 never yet been occupied. 
 
 Clement XII. in the beginning of the present century, 
 ornamented one of the chapels for his own burial place, and 
 added the eastern portico, to dignify the spot. 
 
 It is the grandest modern colonnade in the world, 
 though that of the ^ouvre at Paris exceeds it in beauty. 
 It is a hundred and fifty feet long, and a hundred high, in 
 two stories, formed by coupled columns, Corinthian and 
 composite, surmounted by a central pediment, a balus- 
 trade, and colossal statues of John the Baptist, and other 
 . faints. 
 
 Upon the elevated frieze is written in letters of gold the 
 dedication to Christ and St. John, and somewhere, else (I 
 cannot recollect where) is inscribed the antiquated an4 
 disputable title of Mother Church. 
 
SWITZERLAND AND ITALY, 
 
 101 
 
 OMNIUM ECCLESIARUM URBIS ET ORBtS TERRARUM, 
 MATER ET CAPUT.* 
 
 The Pope of Rome still considers himself as Bishop of 
 this church, and it is the closing act of his installation to 
 take possession in form of the supposed See of St. Peter, 
 when he pronounces the papal benediction from the central 
 balcony, in the second story of the portico. A ceremony 
 that I shall describe in course, as preparations are now 
 jnaking for its celebration, which his present holiness had 
 thought it prudent to defer till the continental peace should 
 confirm his tottering elevation. 
 
 On entering this august edifice, you find yourself ia 
 a long and broad aisle with a flat cieling, richly gilt, ia 
 massy compartments. At the end of it is a gothic taberna- 
 cle erected over the high altar. Behind this is the cross 
 aisle, and farther still a semicircular tribune, the vault of 
 which is covered with ancient mosaics, rudely represent- 
 ing the Saviour, and if 1 remember right the four and 
 twenty Elders of the Apocalypse. 
 
 But the sides of the nave are nobly ornamented with 
 colossal statues of the twelve Apostles. They stand in 
 ample niches, separated from each other by the arcades of 
 the side aisles, under dove-coloured pediments, supported 
 by beautiful columns of verde antique. 
 
 These statues are all well designed, and exquisitely 
 wrought in flowing draperies, by the best artists of the 
 last age. Those of St. feter and St. Paul, on the right 
 and left of the altar, are by Monot, one of them, as usual^ 
 displaying the keys of the pearl gates ; and the other reason- 
 ing of righteousness, temperance, and judgment to come, with 
 that impressive animation which made Felix tremble, and 
 almost persuaded king Agrippa to be a Christian.^ 
 
 Those of St. Thomas and St, Bartholomew are by Le 
 
 Gros. tot i 
 
 Those of St. Andrew the uncle, and St. James the 
 brother of our Lord, are by Rusconi, as is also that of 
 St. John, the youngest of his disciples, lopking upward 
 
 * The mother and head of all the churches in the world. 
 
 ■\ Except these bonds (said the dignified confessor of Jesus from the 
 accusing bar to the convicted bench) i would to God that not only thou, 
 but also all that hear me this day, were both, almost and altogether suck 
 
 as I am." 
 
103 
 
 TRAVELS THROUGH 
 
 with that eagle-eye, which should afterward penetrate into 
 the remotest ages, w r hen (banished to the Isle of Patmos) 
 he should be in the spirit, on the Lord's day. 
 
 But an unknown sculptor deserves equal praise for a 
 representation equaiiy meritorious of St. Matthew, examin- 
 ing his Gospel, and neglecting a bag of money, which he 
 scatters at his feet, with the disinterested ardour of that 
 disciple, who (sitting at the receipt of custom) when Jesus 
 called him, immediately arose, and followed him that had 
 not where to lay his head. 
 
 Four antique columns of gilt bronze ornament the 
 altar of the Transept. They were preserved from the di- 
 lapidation of Jupiter Capitolinus, and are said to have been 
 brought by Titus from the temple of Jerusalem. 
 
 The Corsini chapel, supposed the finest in the world, 
 is encrusted with marble, and richly gilt. Its altar pre- 
 sents a picture by Guido, of some equivocal Saint of the 
 Pope's lineage, and the remains of Clement now repose 
 in the famous porphyry Urn, which was found in the 
 mausoleum of Adrian, and is supposed to have contained 
 his ashes. Upon it lies the triple trown, glittering with 
 precious stones, at the foot of the papal effigy, in gilt bronze. 
 
 In the cloisters is the tomb of $t. Helena, the mother 
 of Constantine the Great, and two seats of uiarmo rosso^ 
 found in the Imperial baths. 
 
 In one of the courts of this church, the indefatigable 
 Sixtus erected again, an obelisk of red granite, the largest 
 in the world. It is covered with Egyptian hieroglyphics, 
 the edges of which are still correct, although twelve hundred 
 years before the Christian a?ra, it had been placed by Rameses, 
 King of Egypt, in a Theban temple, from whence it was 
 brought to Rome by the Emperor Constantius, and by him 
 set up in the Circus Maximus, the gigantic appendage of 
 the palace of the Cassars. 
 
 It was then a single stone, ten feet in diameter, and one 
 hundred and twenty-five in length ; but when Sixtus em- 
 ployed Fontana to set up a third time the incredible mass, 
 it was buried in sixteen feet of rubbish, aud had been 
 broken into three pieces by its fall.* 
 
 * In the interesting account of Egypt, lately published in France by 
 the ingenious Denon, the operation by which such enormous blocks were 
 detached from their native beds, is curiously described. A cleft as long as 
 the intended monument was first cut into the solid rock, and then the 
 whole mass was split off at once, by means of a line of wedges struck in at 
 the same moment. The marks of these first operations, says that curjoui 
 
 1 ' 
 
SWITZERLAND AND ITALY. 2Q% 
 
 In another court is the S'cala Santa, or holy stair-case 
 so called from having been ascended by our Saviour, when 
 he was arraigned,before Pontius Pilate, by the rulers of 
 the Jews. 
 
 Whether this was or was not the identical stair-case of 
 the praetorium of Palestine, when the prototype of the 
 Paschal Lamb, was brought before the Roman governor 
 of Judea, at the time of the celebration of the typical pass- 
 over, which be was about to abrogate, it was undoubtedly 
 brought from Jerusalem at the time of the crusades, and 
 here set up for the adoration of the faithful, who creep up 
 it upon their hands and knees, and descend again by a 
 less holy flight, on either side of the venerated steps, which 
 are nearly worn through by the zeal of the devout. 
 
 The church of St. Paul stands upon the banks of the 
 Tiber, a mile without the walls of Rome, on the very spot 
 (said its founder, the Emperor Theodosius) where the holy 
 apostle was buried, three hundred years before, after 
 having been beheaded at the command of Nero. 
 
 You enter this venerable edifice from the great road 
 behind the high altar, standing under a gothic canopy, 
 with fretted pinnacles, before which the nave stretches 
 out in barren vacancy, like a great barn, seventy feet wide,, 
 and three hundred long, covered with painted rafters of 
 unknown antiquity, intended for a flat cieling, and a broken 
 pavement, made up of the fragments of antient tomb stones. 
 
 Yet is this damp and gloomy nave divided from four 
 side aisles by double rows of fluted columns of the most 
 precious marbles, taken from the mausoleum of Adrian ; 
 and over the superb colonnade is continued all round the 
 church an historical series of the two or three hundred pre- 
 lates who have successively occupied the chair of St. Peter, 
 from the days of the prince of the apostles, for such 
 is now the designation of Simon Peter, in the very 
 place where he is supposed to have suffered an ignomini- 
 ous death.* 
 
 observer, are preserved so fresh in this unalterable material, that one 
 might suppose the work to have been lately interrupted,, for such is the 
 hardness of Egyptian granite that the rocks which have been brushed ever 
 since She deluge by the current of the Nile, are not worn, but only polished, 
 by the friction of the waves. 
 
 * They are drawn in half length ovals, the last of which was actually the 
 only one left vacant on the demise of Pius VI. This successor has filled it 
 up, aod to avert the evil omen which three years since might have been sup- 
 posed to threatea the extinction of the papal hierarchy, he has already em- 
 
104 
 
 tRAVfcLS TMROilGrf 
 
 Toward the river is a portico not long since erected 
 upon clustered pilasters, crowned with arcades, the noble 
 simplicity of which imposes veneration, as do the mystic 
 symbols of the four evangelists, which are seen in ami* 
 quated mosaics under the covings of the eaves; 
 
 Over the great arch of the nave is a mosaic head of 
 the Saviour, which was made in 440, and the central door 
 in bronze, embossed with bas reliefs, was cast at Constan- 
 tinople in the year 1070. 
 
 There was in the middle ages a covered passage of a mile 
 in length from the gate of Ostia to the cloisters of St. Paul, 
 but it has been suffered to go to ruin since the antiquated 
 shrine has been almost forsaken for nearer or move recent 
 sanctuaries. San Carlo Borromeo, or San Felipo Neri, are 
 now preferred by the devout to St. Peter and St. Paul, who 
 may be thought to have forgotten their ancient partiality 
 for the good people of Rome. 
 
 The church of Santa Maria Maggiore was erected upon 
 the foundations of a temple of Juno Lucina, in the year 
 335, by a Roman citizen, to whom the Virgin appeared 
 (says the legend) and directed him to build this chapel to 
 her honour, the outline of which she promised to mark 
 the next day, the first of June, (some say of August) by a 
 fall of snow, which should exactly cover the spot she de- 
 signed for the building. 
 
 . Several paintings in the church represent the snow as 
 falling accordingly, and whether it fell or not, the edifice 
 was then built, where it now stands, and it is inscribed with 
 primitive simplicity. 
 
 Xystus Episcopus plebi Dei.* 
 
 Mosaic representations coeval with the miraculous 
 period, still existing over the arch of the tribune, imply the 
 corruptions of Christianity which had already obtained in 
 the fourth century. They depict the adoration of the virgin, 
 the use of images and other innovations so suddenly intro- 
 duced into the christian church. 
 
 ployed a painter to sketch another row, and ocoopy the first angle immedi- 
 ately with his own portrait, unwilling to rely any longer upon the unbroken 
 succession of the j»acred college. 
 
 * Bishop Sixtus to the people of God. 
 
SWITZERLAND AND ITALY. 
 
 This historical scenery is darkly represented with the 
 concomitant barbarism of the decline of the arts, and the 
 dins;y colouring is now so faded that an attentive spectator 
 might pass under the arch itself without ever suspecting that 
 he beheld the most ancient and most remarkable monument 
 of Christian History extant. Since the innumerable pieces 
 of the true cross, the nails or the spear that pierced the Son 
 of the blessed, the holy handkerchief that received the im- 
 pression of his face, when he sweated drops of blood, the 
 pictures of the Virgin, painted by St. Luke, the identical 
 heads of St. Peter and St. Paul, and the wooden crucifixes 
 which have bowed to the invocations of favoured votaries, 
 can only he contemplated by protestants with that kind 
 of admiration which is provoked by the boldness of impos- 
 ture and the credulity of zeal. 
 
 Excepting this arch, and the Ionic columns of the nave, 
 most probably borrowed from the ancient temple, little 
 now remains of the original edifice, which different 
 Popes in distant ages have vied with each other to decorate 
 or to repair. 
 
 The doable portico at the east end is a noble specimen of 
 Grecian architecture, not long since erected. 
 
 The cieling of the nave is flat and heavy, but its massy 
 compartments are richly gilded; it is said with the first 
 gold that was brought from South America At the upper 
 end, opposite the high altar, over which there is a superb 
 canopy supported by columns of gilt bronze, are the two 
 magnificent chapels of Sixtus V. and Paul V. 
 
 These beautiful chapels are separated from the nave by 
 folding gates of wrought iron. That of Sixtus is on the 
 right. He appears on one side, upon his knees, in white 
 marble surrounded with exquisite has reliefs, representing 
 the erection of fallen obelisks, the rearing of the dome of 
 St. Peter's, and other remarkable circumstances of his 
 active reign. The other side of the chapel was by him 
 gratefully devoted to St. Pius V. to whom he owed his car- 
 dinal's hat. 
 
 Pius is the last of their own order, on whom the Popes 
 have thought proper to bestow the honours of canonization, 
 however liberally they continue to confer them upon others-. 
 Perhaps the holy fathers, his successors> may have less 
 deserved the distinction by acts of piety and devotion, 
 yet the emaciated figure of the last papal Saint is here dis- 
 played among unsanctified representations of battles and 
 
 SWITZERLAND.] O 
 
TRAVELS THROUGH 
 
 sieges, of pillage and slaughter, as the leading features of 
 his holy pontificate.* 
 
 The Borghese chapel on the left is esteemed one of the 
 finest in Rome. It is profusely ornamented with painting 
 and statuary, bas reliefs and stucco. The altar, enriched 
 with agate and oriental jasper, over a row of candlesticks 
 of massy silver, displays on solemn occasions upon a 
 ground of lapis lazuli, a dingy picture of the Virgin, one 
 of the many that were or were not painted by Luke the 
 evangelist. On one side of the chapel is Paul"in the atti- 
 tude of prayer. On the other is his successor Clement 
 VIII. the peaceful prelate who took possession ofFerrara, 
 at the head of twenty thousand men, the last military 
 exploit of the prince bishops of the Roman see.f 
 
 The church of Santa Maria degli Angeli was formed by 
 Michael Angelo, at the command of Pius IV. out of the 
 Pinaxotheca of the baths of Diocletian, in honour of the 
 forty thousand Christians who are said to have been em- 
 ployed in the building, and afterward massacred, by the 
 inhuman tyrant in the last persecution suffered by the 
 Catholic Church, but a few years before Christianity was 
 embraced by the Emperors of Rome. 
 
 It is two hundred feet long; and the ceiling, a hundred 
 high, is still supported by eight blocks of aranitello, five 
 feet diameter, and little less than fifty high. The en- 
 trance, a rotunda, was one of the caledariums or stews 
 belonging to the baths. 
 
 This vast edifice is little frequented, and the daily mass 
 is often mumbled over to an audience of two or three per- 
 sons, sometimes to the naked walls, which re-echo the 
 mysterious chant in hollow murmurs. 
 
 The church of the Holy Apostles was erected by Con- 
 stantine, and rebuilt under the direction of Fontana. 
 The ceiling of the nave represents the Apotheosis of St. 
 Francis, and the Fall of the Angels is so boldly throwa 
 over the entablature of the Tribune, that you are appre- 
 
 * I find from history that Pius V. assisted Charles IX. against his pro- 
 testant subjects with an army of 5000 Men; excommunicated Queen 
 Mizabeth, and made war, m conjHnction with the Spaniards and Venetians 
 against Selim then Emperor of the Turks. 
 
 t Traversing _ this church, my profane eyes glanced upon an inscription 
 intended only for the faithful. It was written over the door of the vestry 
 and imported that whosoever should introduce a woman into that sacred iu- 
 Cjosure should stand excommunicated ipsofucto. 
 
SWITZERLAND AND ITALY. 
 
 107 
 
 hensive, at first sight, for the safety of the priest that offici- 
 ates below. 
 
 Here are three rich and beautiful chapels, formed in 
 the arcades of the side aisles, one of "them is cieled with 
 gilt stucco, and they are all encrusted with the richest 
 marbles. 
 
 Over the door of the vestry is the tomb of Clement XIV. 
 by Canova, in which the sculptor has aptly placed the phi- 
 losophic Ganganelli, between expressive figures of Tem- 
 perance and Meekness. 
 
 The church of St. Ignatius, one of the finest in 
 Rome, was built by Cardinal Ludpvisi, the nephew of 
 Gregory XV 7 . 
 
 The eieling of the nave, sixty feet wide and two hun- 
 dred long, supported by Corinthian pilasters in coupled 
 rows, was painted by Father Pozzi, a brother of the order, 
 with the apotheosis of St. Ignatius, from whose head issue 
 rays of light, illuminating the four quarters of the globe. 
 They are boldly personified with their respective attri- 
 butes, amidst architectural perspectives, and accompanied 
 with a blasphemous representation of the Elect as ris- 
 ing up toward the Saint, while the reprobate are 
 seen below falling before him through the opening 
 clouds. 
 
 Over the tribune is a puerile perversion of the saying of 
 St. Paul: 
 
 Ego vobis Romse propitius ero * 
 
 This magnificent edifice was intended to have a 
 dome, which would have been second only to that of St. 
 Peter's; but the pontiff and his nephew both dying before 
 it could be raised, the centre of the aisles is covered in at 
 a vast height, with a flat cieliog, painted blue. The 
 angles however of the intended cupola are richly adorned 
 with bloody stories, characteristic of that domineering genius 
 which eventually occasioned the abolition of the order, 
 such as Judith with the head of Holofernes, Jael slaying 
 Sisera, &c. &c. 
 
 One gladly turns from these disgusting objects, in which 
 the finest talents have been so often prostituted, to the 
 splendid altars of the transept, the marble frontispieces of 
 each of which suitably fill a space sixty feet wide, and 
 
 * I will be favourable to you Rofhaus. 
 O 3 
 
108 
 
 TRAVELS THROUGH 
 
 ninety or -a hundred high, but as they are both finished 
 in the same style, I shall only describe the finest. It is that 
 to the right. 
 
 The altar, placed upon a broad basement of white mar- 
 ble, is a tomb encrusted with lapis lazuli, and richly gilt. 
 The front of it is wrought in open work, and a lamp 
 burning within, glitters upon the gilding, with brilliant 
 effulgence. 
 
 Above is a superb bas relief, by Le Gros, eight or ten feet 
 wide, and fifteen ortwenty high. It represents the Ascen- 
 sion, not of Jesus Christ, but of San Luigi Gonzagua 
 
 Two twisted columns of the richest marble, projecting 
 on each side obliquely from the wall, support over it at a 
 vast height a marble pediment, while on the pavement 
 stone balustrades keep kneeling devotees at a respect- 
 ful distance, and marble angels hold golden lamps, 
 which glimmer day and night before the resplendent 
 shrine. 
 
 In a side chapel is the tomb of Gregory, likewise by 
 Le Gros, from which flying angels withdraw a curtain of 
 Sicilian jasper, and display the Pope sitting in his robes 
 of state, a medallion of the cardinal at his feet. 
 
 The church of Jesu belonged to the same order before it 
 was suppressed It was built by Cardinal Farnese, upon a 
 plan of Vignola. 
 
 The frescos of the nave and cupola are beautiful, and 
 richly adorned with gilded panels; but as ihe subjects 
 are still catholic saints and Jewish heroines, I shall pass 
 on to the altar of St. Ignatius, the finest in Rome. It was 
 erected upon the design of the same father Pozzi, at the 
 end of the north transept, in a space of fifty feet wide, and 
 seventy or eighty high. 
 
 The altar, blazing with gold and precious stones, is 
 elevated upon an ample platform, to which the priest 
 ascends by four or five broad steps of white marble, 
 encircled by a sweeping balustrade, which is surmount- 
 ed by four angels of gilt bronze, holding aloft lighted 
 lamps. 
 
 Over it in a niche encrusted with lapis lazuli of the most 
 vivid blue, was onfce a silver statue of St. Ignatius, nine 
 feet -high, attended by three angeh of the same precious 
 metal, and the habit of the saint sparkled with precious 
 stones; but all these valuables were Swept away by the 
 French, and a curtain or a picture now ^conceals the 
 deficiency. 
 
SWITZERLAND AND ITALY. 
 
 109 
 
 The coupled columns which support the magnificent 
 pediment, shining with coloured marbles, at a height of 
 Ufty feet, are of gilt bronze, fluted with lapis lazuli; the 
 bases and capitals of Corinthian brass; and the broken 
 apex is filled with a presumptuous personification of the 
 Majesty of Heaven, holding in his right hand a globe 
 of lapis lazuli, the largest and the purest that ever was 
 seen. 
 
 In the angles of the wall below are splendid accom- 
 paniments of gilt bronze, and seven -massy candle- 
 sticks upon the altar, once glittered with burnished 
 gold.* 
 
 The church of Santa Maria in Vallicella was erected by 
 Felipo Neri, afterward sainted by I know not what Pope, 
 
 ♦ From this splendid church, one of the two or three dedicated at Rome, 
 to the name of Jesus, the famous, perhaps I should say, the infamous order 
 of Jesuits took its denomination. It was given them by cardinal Farnese, 
 a nephew of Paul I'M. by whose bull the order had been then lately created. 
 Ignatius Loyola, the founder of this imperious order, was originally a pro- 
 fligate officer in die Spanish service, which he quitted to devote himself to 
 the cloister, on being wounded at the siege of Pampeluna in 1521. The 
 gloomy enthusiast obtained the papal sanction, for the professors of his rules 
 in 1540; he was eventually canonized at Rome in 1609. This celebrated 
 sect of the Chiesa Catolica, Apostolica, e Roma?ia, devoted itself to the 
 Virgin, and undertook the education of youth, to which circumstance is to- 
 be attributed the ascendancy attained by its members in the cabinets 
 of princes. The fathers of the order selected their noviciates from the 
 most promising youths, entrusted to their tuition, watched their opening 
 faculties, and cultivated instead of checking the opening propensities of 
 nature. By this means they had soon professors fit for the most elevated, 
 situations, and capable of undertaking, and fulfilling with address, the most 
 secret charge, and the most dangerous mission. Incredible as it may ap- 
 pear in this philosophic age, so temperate in church affairs, some gloomy 
 dispositions were regularly trained by these ghostly fathers, to emulate the 
 crown, and to endure the sufferings of martyrdom. These hopeful scyons 
 were afterward planted in both the Indies, and at one time they had insinuated 
 themselves into the jealous court of China, and created an absolute do- 
 minion among the savages of Paraguay, where they" have been wittily said 
 to have become themselves more than half Pagans, to make their wavering 
 proselytes less than half christians. But their craftier brethren at home 
 contrived to sway the conciences, a;id direct the councils of all the catholic 
 princes in Europe, without departing in the least from the rules of cano- 
 nical orthodoxy. Obedience was the hand of the order, policy was its 
 rule, and courtesy no less a badge of the modern knight errants of the 
 church, than it had been of the antiquated devotees of chivalry. But the 
 morals of this insinuating order, became at last so infamous, and their 
 principles so detestable, that they were banished from one state after 
 another, and finally abrogated by the apostolic see, when the papal chair 
 was filled by the enlightened Ganganelli. The education of the catholic 
 youth, their devolved upon the Dominicans, and the churches of the Jesuits 
 y«er« given to other fraternities. 
 
ISO 
 
 TRATELS THROUGH 
 
 wpon a design of Pietro da Cortona, who painted the eielin<» 
 of the nave, the cupola, and the tribune. 
 
 The rich little chapel of San Felipo is on the left of the 
 high altar. It is with difficulty the curious can get within 
 it for the crowd of devotees with which it is always 
 surrounded. The altar piece represents the saint drawn bv 
 Guido, and its polished walls, and gilded cielin^, reflect 
 the lights which are always blazing below. 
 
 Santa Maria sopra Minerva belongs to a convent of Do- 
 minicans, and it was here that the tribunal of the inquisit ion, 
 happily no longer dreaded in Italy, long held its merciless 
 inquest. 
 
 The church is a Gothic structure, and its lon«- and 
 gloomy aisles exhibit nothing more remarkable than the 
 amazing number of altars and chapels, founded or endowed 
 in artkulo mortis, by the trembling sinners who in the 
 lapse of ages have been interred at their feet, trusting to 
 escape the vengeance of heaven by presenting themselves 
 to Peter in the weeds of St. Dominic. 
 
 $ome 0 f these have been specially privileged by favour- 
 ing Popes, and either here or elsewhere I have been shock- 
 ed with the arrogant inscription of: 
 
 IN DTJLGENTI A PLEN A RI A £UOTIDlANA PEEPETTJA, PEG 
 V1VIS ET DEFUNCTIS.* 
 
 and the insidious composition of the poor box, inscribed 
 with. 
 
 ELEMOSIN A PER LA MADOKNA.f 
 
 There is however a statue of the Saviour holding his 
 cross, by Michael Angelo, but it owes its celebrity to the 
 fame of its sculptor; and the tomb of a Pope, elegantlv 
 wrought by some later artist. 
 
 In the square before this church is a small Egyptian 
 obelisk, which has been appositely elevated upon the back 
 of a marble elephant. 
 
 The church of San Martino in Monte is erected over a 
 chamber of the baths of Titus. In it Pope Silvester held a 
 council, at which Constanrine and his mother, the empress 
 Helena, condescended to assist. 
 
 * Plenary indulgeftce every day for ever, for the living and the dead, 
 | Alms fur our Laily. 
 
SWITZERLAND AND ITALY. |j| 
 
 The present edifice is as brilliant as a ball roam. MarbJe 
 Columns with gilded capitals, drawn from the Villa of 
 Anan, divide the aisles; the walls are covered with land- 
 scapes, by the joint efforts of the two Poussins, one of 
 whom painted the scenery, and the other the figures ; and 
 the tabe made for the host is a gilded dome supported by 
 pillars of African marble, and exhibited upon a lofty altar 
 before a blaze of light. 
 
 On one side a 'little chapel, gay as the church with 
 glossy incrustations, presents an illuminated altar, and a 
 picture of Purgatory, in which an angel descending with 
 his warrant in his hand, (the consecrated wafer) delivers one 
 soul at a time from the tormenting flames, which are made 
 to crackle in the candles burning on the altar, to heighten 
 the stage effect of this painted tragedy. An unworthy mis- 
 representation of the doctrine of the atonement, which was 
 made through the eternal Spirit, without the gates of Jerusa- 
 lem, zvhen by one offering were perfected for ever all them 
 that are sanctified. 
 
 San Carl£ al Corso, designed by Pietro da Cortona, fs 
 one of the* most beautiful churches in Rome. The front 
 rising upon a flight of steps, which runs its whole length, is 
 formed by four three-quarter columns of the Corinthian 
 order, sixty feet high, surmounted by a rich pediment, 
 over which in a side view, the well proportioned dome 
 may be seen from the street, supported by clustered 
 co umns, and terminating in an open lanthorn, with a 
 gilded spire. 
 
 The aisles, the dome, and the choir are finely propor- 
 tioned, and every where richly ornamented with Corinthian 
 sculpture, though it is here lavished with less profusion 
 thjm is usual at Rome. 
 
 Where the nave opens into the dome the eye is com- 
 pletely gratified with its aerial swell, lighted by eight or 
 ten windows, and relieved by stuccoed roses, terminating 
 in an open cupola. a 
 
 On the right and left, at the terminations of the tran- 
 septs, are seen superb frontispieces to the principal altars, 
 or the consl ruction before described, but like the body 
 of this beautiful church* less profusely than elegantly 
 adorned. & J 
 
 This elegant structure being directly opposite to our 
 lodgings, 1 have sometimes risen before day, to observe the 
 effect or darkness upon its distinct proportions, when 
 fcuntfy dissipated by the glimmering tapers of the morning 
 
TRAVELS THROUGH 
 
 mass, which in the winter solstice is celebrated before day- 
 light. 
 
 The interior of San Lnigi de Francisi is similarly dis- 
 tributed, and more richly adorned. But you are tired of 
 churches, so am I, and 1 would break off directly, did not 
 the matchless frescos of San Carlo a Catenari imperiously 
 demand description. 
 
 This beautiful edifice is a dome of fifty feet diameter, 
 branching into the recesses formed by a Greek cross. It is 
 supported by superb pilasters of the Corinthian order, with 
 an entablature of the richest sculpture, from which spring 
 stuccoed arches, the unity of whose majestic masses is no 
 where disturbed by gilding. 
 
 In the four angles of this charming dome Domenichino, 
 has painted the Cardinal Virtues, which characteristic 
 accompaniments, and the colours of these exquisite perform- 
 ances, seem endowed with indelible vividity, bearing no 
 marks of decay, though they have not been painted less 
 than two hundred years. 
 
 LETTER XV. 
 
 1* A LACES AUD MUSEUMS. 
 
 ThE site of the ancient capital is now occupied by the 
 modern town house, but you still approach it by the long 
 ascent which has been so often trod by the senate and 
 people of Koine, in the days of the Consuls and the 
 Czesars. 
 
 It had been enclosed with porticoes by the Conscript 
 Fathers, whose generals conquered the world ; and Nero, 
 who never fought with any thing but beasts, had vainly 
 erected in its centre a triumphal arch. 
 
 The venerable area was surrounded with temples, of which 
 the most ancient was that of Jupiter Feretrius, built by 
 Romulus in the infancy of the city ; the most magnificent 
 that of Jupiter Capitolinus, erected by Tarquin the Superb. 
 
 In the latter were deposited the spoils of conquered 
 nations, and offerings Lo the imaginary deity, whose statue 
 w as of solidgold. 
 
Switzerland and italy. 
 
 113 
 
 But Jupiter Capitolinus has long since given way to 
 Maria d'Ara Cceli, though the columns of the temple still 
 support the nave of the church. 
 
 Nothing else remains oF ancient dignity upon this 
 imperial eminence, the temples of other Jupiters, of various 
 fortunes, of Egyptian gods, adopted by their superstitious 
 conquerors, having totally disappeared, with the immobile 
 saxum of the capitol. 
 
 Thanks, however, to the genius of destruction, the 
 sculptures of antiquity have been preserved, under protecting 
 ruins, daily to reward the industrious antiquary, with the 
 discovery of precious objects, among the accumulated 
 rubbish of two thousand years, which covers the ancient 
 surface to the depth of fifteen or twenty feet. 
 
 A statue of Tiberius was lately found at Piperno; another 
 of Minerva has just been discovered at Veletri ; and one of 
 Antinous at Palestrina. 
 
 Two lionesses of Egyptian basaltes guard the ascent to 
 the capitol; and the headless trunk of a statue of porphyry 
 exquisitely draped, indicates alike the evanescency* of 
 empire, and the perpetuity of Rome. 
 
 Two colossal statues of Grecian sculpture, Castor and 
 Pollux, leading their horses, ornament the top of the 
 steps, and on a line with them to the right and left, are 
 trophies taken from the arch of Trajan, and ancient mile 
 stones ; one of which was that which marked the first stage 
 from the Forum Romanum, towards the distant provinces 
 of Spain, of Britain, or of Egypt. 
 
 An equestrian statue of Marcus Aurelius in bronze, once 
 gilt, now occupies the centre of the platform; and before 
 the steps of the senatorial palace, is a sitting figure of Rome 
 triumphant, supported by the Tiber and the Nile. 
 
 On the right is the conservatory, on the left the museum ; 
 upon the former, within a gloomy court, you again see a 
 Roma triumphans attended by conquered Provinces; a 
 lion devouring a horse ; and two prodigious heads, two feet 
 and one hand, of colossal statues of Commodusand Domitian, 
 which had been mutilated by the people, on the death of 
 those inhuman monsters. 
 
 Julius and Augustus occupy the arcades, leading to the 
 stair-case, at the foot of 'which is a rostral column, 
 supplied by some modern artist to the original inscription 
 of that celebrated pillar, from whose customarv orations 
 popular declaimers are still said to mount the rostrum,, 
 
 SWITZERLAND.] J 
 
114 
 
 TRAVELS THROUGH 
 
 The landing-place is ornamented with superb bas-reliefs 
 preserved from the late dilapidation of an arch of Antoninus 
 Pius. 
 
 The official apartments are indifferently painted with 
 Roman history, ancient and modern ; but the side of one 
 room is lined with the shattered pannels of a tabular list of 
 the ancient Consuls ; and its centre is occupied by the 
 identical bronze wolf, which is said to have been struck 
 with lightning at the fall of Caesar. 
 
 Here is also a gallery of paintings, but it has been so 
 stripped by the French, that little is left worth notice. Yet 
 there remains a portrait of Guido, and another of Michael 
 Angelo, painted by themselves, the features of which are 
 strongly marked with their respective characteristics of 
 gracefulness and sublimity. 
 
 In the court of the museum is the statue on which were 
 pasted the replies of Marforio to the interrogatories of Pas- 
 quin, in days when the repose of power could only be dis- 
 turbed by the sting of ridicule*. / 
 
 Under the arcades is the tomb of Severus, and his mother 
 Mammea, with their effigies in reclining postures ; and on 
 the stair-case are inserted in the walls, the mutilated 
 fragments of a plan of ancient Rome, which was found on 
 the pavement of a temple when it was converted into a 
 church. 
 
 Heie an infinity of sculptures are arranged in different 
 apartments. 
 
 One of them contains Egyptian idols, more curious for 
 the hardness of the materials in which they were wrought, 
 than for the truth of their forms, or the beauty of their 
 features, the cheeks round and full, the lips thick, the mouth 
 large ; in short, the African physiognomy, which in the 
 
 • The story of Pasquin wearing a dirty shirt, because his washerwoman 
 had been made a princess, by the elevation of Sixtus V. is two well known to 
 be repeated ; but when Clement XI. became the butt of satire, much 
 better jokes were sported and forgotten. Soon after the election of 
 Clement, in the room of Innocent XII. whose arms were three pots, 
 Pasquin was represented bewailing himself, with a broken vase in his hand, 
 Marforio asks what he is crying about, and Pasquin replies "Come! non 
 vuvi che lm lagni se per tre pile che havevo m'hanno dato un boccale ' 
 [Don't you see that for three pots they've given me nothing but a cracked 
 pitcher!] Clement gravely employing himself in regulating the canonical 
 length of cassocks and perriwigs at a time when the imperial troops were 
 preparing to enter Italy, Marforio asks Pasquin what he thinks of the Pope. 
 Pasquin replies, " Clemens Undecimus Pontifex Maximus in minimis — 
 minimus in raaximis.'' [Clement is great in little things— little in great 
 one*.] 
 
SWITZERLAND AND ITALY. 
 
 115 
 
 modern negro is stigmatized by interested prejudice as the 
 legible type of ignorance and stupidity. 
 
 A second constitutes a receptacle for marble sarcophaguses, 
 embossed with the games or customs of antiquity, and the 
 ambiguous emblems of heathen mythology. 
 
 A third exhibits statues of bronze, of Parian marble, or 
 of Egyptian stones of adamantine hardness. 
 
 A fourth contains busts of consuls and emperors, philo- 
 sophers and heroes,, poets and historians, of the flourishing 
 periods of Greece and Rome, whose names are familiar to 
 the civilized world, after the lapse of twenty or thirty 
 centuries. 
 
 In the wall of a cabinet is preserved a tablet of mosaic 
 work, representing four doves sipping out of a bowl, as 
 perfect as when it was described by Pliny, as a master-piece 
 then existing in the villa of Adrian 
 
 This art ; however, has been improved by the modern 
 Romans, and I have myself a copy of the four doves much 
 better executed, by an unknown artist. 
 
 To describe all the paintings, and the sculptures, the 
 cameos and intaglios, the medals and the precious stones, 
 collected by the nephews of Popes and Cardinals, and 
 preserved in the palaces of Rome, where they are readily 
 exhibited to the curiosity of strangers, would require 
 additional volumes, notwithstanding the merciless requi- 
 sition of French rapacity, which swept away at once, 
 a hundred statues, a hundred busts, a hundred vases, 
 and a hundred pictures, together with gems and medals 
 innumerable. 
 
 I shall therefore confine myself to the principal collec- 
 tions, and to the principle objects which they contain, 
 excusing myself from noticing many others, though one of 
 them may justly boast of a Madona, by Guido ; another of 
 a bust of Cicero, and another of that very statue of Pompey, 
 at the foot of which Julius Caesar wrapped himself in his 
 mantle, and received twenty-five mortal wounds, saying 
 " And thou too Brutus 1" when he perceived his own son 
 among the assassins. 
 
 Others abounding with pictures, have alienated to the 
 French the portraits of Titian, the Venuses of Raphael, and 
 the Madonnas of Guido. 
 
 All of them, excepting only the Palazzo Doria, have 
 exchanged for British gold the landscapes of Claude 
 Lorraine, glowing with cerulean hues. 
 
 v 2 
 
116 
 
 TRAVELS THROUGH 
 
 The palazzo Colonna belongs to one of the most ancient 
 families of Rome, and adulatory genealogists have found 
 or sought to find in their surname, an allusion to the pillars 
 of Hercules, or the columns of Trajan, the magnificent 
 monument which rears its venerable head in the vicinity of 
 their palace. 
 
 Their wealth, however, like that of all the other great 
 families of Rome, may be traced from the papal chair, 
 though often by doubtful or illegitimate consanguinity, and 
 Martin V. the restorer of the Romish hierarchy, after the 
 long defection of Avignon, is the first pope who endowed 
 his family with the title and the revenue of princes. 
 
 This palace, like most of the palaces in Italy, is built 
 round a court with open colonnades, in which the owner 
 may alight under cover, and ascend a marble stair-case to 
 the servant's hall, preceding the state apartments, which are 
 usually uninhabited, the family residing in an upper story, 
 or a distant wing. 
 
 Its gallery is the noblest in Rome, belonging to a subject, 
 being a room of forty feet by a hundred and twenty, opening 
 into a pavilion at each end; one of which communicates 
 with the gardens, which are very extensive, and laid out 
 like those of the palaces upon the Continent, in that formal 
 manner known in England as the style of William III. 
 
 The ceiling is painted with the victories of Mark Antony 
 Colonna, the general of Paul V. over the Turks, and the 
 walls are adorned with the finest productions of the Italian 
 pencil. 
 
 The first pavilion is or was chiefly hung with landscapes 
 by Claude Lorraine, Gaspar Poussin, and Salvator Rosa. 
 It also contains a cabinet of precious stones, the door of 
 which is embossed in ivory, with the last Judgment of the 
 Capella Sistina. 
 
 In the gallery itself, the multiplicity of objects confuse 
 my recollection, as I saw it but once, and 1 can now only 
 remember the distinct impression made by a picture of 
 Titian, in which an old nobleman, in his armed chair, 
 listens with attention and complacency to a young amanuen- 
 sis who reads to him standing from a written paper, with a 
 captivating air of modesty and deference. 
 
 In one of the smaller apartments is a Magdalen of Guido., 
 with dishevelled hair, and at the end of a corridor, either 
 is or was the Belgic column, once placed in the temple ot 
 JSellona. 
 
SWITZERLAND AND ITALY. 
 
 117 
 
 The pallazzo Farnese, an immense hollow square, three 
 stories high, is now chiefly remarkable for having been built 
 by Michael Angelo, and painted by Annibal Caracci, as 
 it is at prent uninhabited, and has been long stripped of the 
 Flora, the Hercules, and the Tauro. those celebrated sculp- 
 tures which still bear the name of the family, though the 
 heiress of the house has dissolved it by an alliance s wkh the 
 king of the two Sicilies, who has conveyed every thing 
 that was moveable to Naples. 
 
 Annibal spent the greatest part of his life in ornamenting 
 the gallery, and he is said to have died of mortification, 
 on being inadequately rewarded by Cardinal Farnese. 
 
 The vaulted ceiling is divided into seven square compart- 
 ments, and eight rounds, supported by academic figures in 
 all imaginable attitudes. 
 
 In the compartments are represented the triumph of 
 Bacchus and Ariadne, Pan offering the wool of his flocks to 
 Diana, Paris receiving from Mercury the golden apple, 
 Aurora and Cephalus, Venus and Anchises, Hercules and 
 Iole, with many other lascivious stories, drawn from 
 the Metamorphoses of Ovid, and other fables of ancient 
 mythology. * 
 
 Thepalazzo Barberini, built by a nephew of Urban VIII. 
 is a prodigious edifice, containing a valuable library, and 
 an immense collection of painting and sculpture. 
 
 The ceiling of the great hall was painted by Pietro da 
 Cortona, with the apotheosis of Urban ; and in the apart- 
 ments I particularly recollected two heads of Modesty and 
 Vanity, by Leonardo da Vinci, a whole length Magdalen 
 of Guido, and half length of the four Evangelists by 
 Guercino da Cento. 
 
 On the ground floor are several rooms lined with statuary, 
 among which are busts of Marius and Sylla ; but the 
 celebrated bleeping fawn, from the mausoleum of Adrian, 
 has been lately sold, or presented, to the king of Spain. 
 
 The palazzo Doria, built, if! recollect right, under the 
 patronages of Innocent X. [Pamfili] from whose family it 
 passed by marriage to the Dorias, fronts the Corso, and has 
 been planned with more attention to convenience, than is 
 usual in the palaces of Italy. 
 
 Its gallery runs round the four sides of a square, near the 
 entrance of which is an aerial Claude, the finest now 
 remaining in Rome, near which a landscape sketched by 
 Domenichino grates the eye of the connoisseur. There are 
 several other Claudes in this gallery, though none of them 
 
TRAVELS THROUGH 
 
 have been so lightly touched by his magic hand, fine 
 portraits of Luther and Calvin, by Titian, &c. &c. 
 
 In one of the leading apartments is a head of Christ, 
 crowned with thorns, and bearing the cross, with a look of 
 patient suffering, which I shall never forget, it was paint- 
 ed by Andrea Mantegna, the master of Michael Angelo. 
 
 The palazzo Braschi, the last palace built in Rome, and 
 indeed not yet finished,, though it has been in hand ever 
 since the beginning of the pontificate of Pius VI. is built 
 on one side of the piazza Navona, in the centre of modern 
 Rome. 
 
 Here the nephew of the late pope, immured in a corner 
 of the unfinished pile, now spends with profusion, what had 
 been gained by rapacity, in decorating with all the elegancies 
 of painting and sculpture} a palace he can himself hardly 
 ever expect to inhabit. 
 
 The great stair-case, however, is now nearly finished, 
 and is probably, the most expensive and magnificent 
 apartment of the size, that ever was adorned with the 
 perfections of art. It is thirty feet by forty and ninety 
 high. 
 
 Over the great doors, on the ground floor, are bustoes of 
 ancient philosophers. The steps are of white marble 
 ten feet long, the balustrade is of wrought iron, and every 
 flight is adorned with an antique statue, and supported by 
 columns of Egyptian granite. 
 
 The gallery displays two doors of mahogany, encased 
 with marble, surmounted with bas-reliefs, and separated by 
 a niche and a statue. 
 
 Arches springing from the columns, form compartments 
 in the newest taste, and the cieling, elegantly ribbed and 
 fretted, terminates in an ample sky-light. 
 
 The palazzo Borghese, the costly monument of the 
 nepotism of Paul V. now contains but few paintings worth 
 notice, though many pieces in this still ample collection 
 are by the first names in the annals of the schools. 
 
 But the Casino or villa of the same family without the 
 Porta del Popolo, still remains a perfect mass of ancient 
 modern sculpture. 
 
 The front of this building is covered with bas-reliefs, 
 distributed in the form of pannels, above, below, and 
 between the windows, and the portico is peopled with 
 bustoes and statues. 
 
 In the hall are busts of the twelve Caesars, and an 
 equestrian statue of Curtius leaping into the gulph. 
 
[SWITZERLAND AND ITALY. 
 
 H9 
 
 In other apartments are seen the Hermaphrodite of 
 obscene celebrity; the fighting Gladiator, by an Ephesiat* 
 sculptor, thought to be the finest statue now remaining in 
 Rome; a groupe of sleeping boys, by Algardi ; and David 
 with the sling and stone with which he smote Goliah, I 
 think the master-piece of Bernini. 
 
 In the gardens of this palace, the Italian honey-suckle 
 retains its verdure through the winter, and the single gilly- 
 flower and glowing ranunculus there bloom throughout the 
 Year. 
 
 The palazzo Madama, is now only remarkable for a. 
 facade of uncommon elegance, erected by Catharine de 
 Medicis, before she was married to Henry II. of France. 
 
 In the villa Aldobrandini is preserved an antique fresco 
 which was found in the baths of Titus. It represents a 
 Roman marriage, in the same bas-relief style in which all 
 the antique paintings yet found exhibit figures, with little 
 attention to grouping or perspective, though with a 
 perfection of form and drapery apparently copied from the 
 finished works of contemporary sculptors. None of them, 
 give a high idea of the progress of painting among the 
 ancients. 
 
 In the casino Farnesina, on the right banks of the Tibei^ 
 erected by Augustine Chegi, a famous banker in the time 
 of Leo X. and afterwards purchased by the Faruese 
 family, is an oblong saloon on the ceiling of which is 
 represented the fable of Cupid and Psyche, in different 
 compartments, separated by rich festoons of fruit and 
 flowers, designed by Raphael, and painted by his scholars. 
 
 In an adjoining apartment is the Galatea of the same 
 inimitable master, painted by his own hand. The imaginary 
 deity sails through the water in a scollop shell, drawn by 
 dolphins, and surrounded by Nereids and Tritons, blowing 
 conch shells, and sporting with the waves. 
 
 In one of the angles of the same apartment, is a colossal 
 head roughly drawn with charcoal, which tradition de 
 clares to have been sketched by Michael Angelo, to rej 
 prove the delicacy of Raphael. 
 
 In the palazzo Costagiui, are six painted ceilings, two of 
 which are strikingly fine. One of them,, by Guercino, ex- 
 hibits Rinaldo in the car of Armida, drawn through the 
 air by winged dragons; the other, Apollo, in the chariot of 
 the sun, by Domenichino. 
 
 In the gardens of the pal azzo Rospigliosi, on the ceilinc • 
 
120 
 
 TRAVELS THROUGH 
 
 of an ablong pavilion, is the Aurora of Guido, one of the 
 finest frescos in the world. 
 
 At the moment of sun rise, Apollo, seated in his car, 
 drawn by four horses, and surrounded by the dancing 
 hours, in attitudes of graceful motion, begins his brilliant 
 career. Lucifer flies before him, with an expiring light, 
 and Flora, hovering round the mystic circle, scatters open- 
 ing flowers upon the morning air. 
 
 In the villa Ludovisi, within the Pincian gate, is an- 
 other sublime effort of genius, upon the same subject, 
 though this is day-break, a moment better adapted to the 
 strong shades of Gnercino. 
 
 Aurora in a car drawn through the clouds by piecl horses 
 scatters flowers upon the earth, and before her fly the stars 
 of night, while in semicircular compartments behind her 
 a woman watches a sleeping boy, over a midnight lamp, 
 and before her the son of the morning, extinguishes his 
 torch/ and shakes his wings for flight. 
 
 LETTER XVI. 
 
 GENERAL VIEW OF ROME FROM THE JANICUL1NE 
 MOUNT. 
 
 THREE things, said a Latin Father of the fourth cen- 
 tury, 1 could wish to have seen, 
 
 Christum in carne, Paulum in ore, et Romam in flore * 
 
 The last of these three wishes was enjoyed in perfec 
 tion by the poet Martial, from his commanding villa, 
 which 'was situated on this very mount. Hie, says the 
 satirist in his epigrams, 
 
 Hie septetn dominos videre montes, 
 p,t totam lice aastimare Romam, 
 Albanos quoque, Tusculosque, colles. 
 
 • Christ in the flesh ; the face ©f St. Paul, and Rome in its glory. 
 
SWITZERLAND AND ITALY. - f$j 
 
 eternhy! ^ * th ° USand ^ arS have rolIed 
 
 O'er Rome's seven hills the admiring eye may stray 
 Albano too, and Tusculum survey. 
 
 thiTk e th aSS - 0f a r ipl<? ' walIs are twenty feet 
 
 h n 't£ Cir f ltof ^ amphitheatre, which could receive 
 thirty thousand or e.ghty thousand spectators, for suci is 
 the difference of computation allowed by its ample scone 
 or the extent of imperial baths spread out like so m P * 
 cmes, into halls and galleries, court!, porticos and TsoCeY 
 may well excite astonishment in the native of a countrv 
 4 hUV CarCfely d T" C T hered ° f the forests with wS 
 
 who"* town CO r red ^ thG hand ° f natu ^ the building of 
 whose towns have not yet exceeded the proportion* «f 
 necessity or convenience. piopoition* of 
 
 One who had been accustomed from childhood ti 
 venerate the antiquities it afforded of the age of Winthroo 
 of Calvert, or of Penn, the perishable materials of which are' 
 already crumbling into dust, may be allowed t contemn^ tt 
 with .enthusiasm inscriptions which have been read bv! 
 
 ger^rutus may frown for ever u P on\C ^JeTTl 
 
 of^rTitrT'^f the Mons Janiculus, on the west side 
 or tne liber, abruptly rising; over the seven hilk „f .u 
 imperial e,ty, the mount of the Vatiean, a„ the plat of 
 
 IZteJt'ST" T a g f neral of chure P he 'and 
 temples, fountains and aqueducts, convents and tUof 
 
 ancient and the modern world. 
 
 Here an obelisk, transported from Africa Hv n "R 
 
 Memphis orofThebe*, no less tha'n the PyraS of thl 
 
J £2 
 
 TRAVELS THROUGH 
 
 Sacred History, in conjunction with the unaccountable 
 existence of the Jews, to manifest the accomplishment of 
 Hebrew prophecy, in the destruction of the holy city, and the 
 dispersion of the chosen people. 
 
 Every where the shattered columns of innumerable tem- 
 ples, in some of which ebriety, in others prostitution, were 
 acknowledged rites, whilst in more than one of them ima- 
 ginary malevolence was vainly deprecated by human 
 sacrifices, recal the absurdities of heathen mythology, 
 which impiously imagined, 
 
 Gods faithless, vicious, cruel, and unjust, 
 Whose attributes were rage, revenge, and lust. 
 
 Here and there the crumbling walls of theatre's where 
 gladiators were fed, that they might bleed freely and taught 
 to die gracefully for the amusement of unfeeling spectators, 
 women as well as men, silently demonstrate how much the 
 civilized world has gained by the introduction of Christia- 
 nity, obscured as it is by traditional superstitions, and 
 national wars.* . , 
 
 Heathen temples dedicated to Christian saints, and the 
 statues of the apostles elevated upon the columns of the 
 emperors, indicate the triumph of Christianity over pagan 
 Home, although the successors of the martyrs adopted hea- 
 then rites, and ingrafted profane ceremonies upon the sim- 
 plicity of Christian worship-t 
 
 *' The statues of heroes," says a clerical tourist, " were 
 converted into those of saints, still to receive adoration, 
 and to preside at consecrated altars. Those who entered 
 the church, like those who entered the temple, sprinkled 
 themselves with lustral water, inhaled perfumed incense, 
 
 * At the savage exhibition of these infernal orgies (the Barbarians of 
 America will discredit my veracity, should the story be related around some 
 council fire) an honourable place was allotted for the vestal virgins, the 
 priestesses of heathen purity, devoted to perpetual virginity, under pain of 
 being buried alive ! 
 
 t Upou the Esquiline Hill the Roman matrons had been accustomed to 
 solicit the favourable wispices of Juno Lucina. — Catholic wives expect the 
 same assistance from Santa Maria Maggiore, whose magnificent church now 
 occupies the site, and inherits the privile ges of the abdicated temple. At 
 the altar of Romulus and Remus mothers presented their children, when 
 they were afflicted with obstinate diseases, and to this day, in desperate 
 cases, infant's are carried to the very same edifice for the intercession of St. 
 Theodore. 
 
SWITZERLAND AND ITALY. 
 
 beheld the lighted taper, and hung up the votive 
 tablet."* 
 
 A defection however unlikely in the days of St. Paul, yet 
 by him expressly predicted ; 
 
 The day of Christ shall not come, except there come a falling away first, 
 and the man of sin be revealed, the son of perdition. 
 
 Under the shade of the Fontana Paulina, upon the sum- 
 mit of the Mons Janiculus, whilst on the right the setting 
 sun gilds anew the fretted vaults of the temple of Peace, 
 and illumines with a golden gleam the broken rotundas of 
 the palace of the Caesars, and the crumbling monuments of 
 the Appian Way, at the same time gaily glittering on the 
 left upon the domes and turrets of modern Rome, let us take 
 a general view of the rival structures of imperial and ponti- 
 fical magnificence. 
 
 Immediately below us on the left is the dome of St. 
 Peter's soaring above its colonnades, its fountains, and its 
 obelisk ; beyond it are the courts and galleries of the 
 Vatican, and before it at a respectful distance is the swell- 
 ing tower of St. Angelo, surmounted by a flying angel with 
 a flaming sword. 
 
 There a bridge crosses the Tiber, adorned with statues, 
 and the venerable river is seen to wind on either side 
 betwixt domes and palaces, ruins and vineyards, till.it 
 reaches the antiquated walls which present the towers of 
 seventeen gates, and inclose a circumference of thirteen 
 miles. They were erected by Aurelian, two hundred and 
 seventy years after Christ, and have been ever since 
 kept in repair by the princely successors of the fisherman of 
 Galilee. 
 
 Without the walls are seen lonely churches, particularly 
 that of St. Paul, far to the right. They were once in the 
 heart of populous suburbs, which surrounded on all sides the 
 imperial city. 
 
 Farther on are shapeless ruins standing, in a barren de- 
 sert, that extends fifteen or twenty miles to the foot of dist- 
 ant hills, upon which may be faintly discerned Albano, 
 Tivoli, and the ancient Tusculum, founded, says tradition, 
 by Telemachus, the son of. Ulysses, and in after times 
 
 * At the entrance of the Via Sacra, Esculapius is turned into St. Bartho- 
 lomew, and at St. Agnes, fuori della porta, a statue of Diana is still 
 venerated under the name of the saint. 
 
 9 2 
 
124 
 
 TRAVELS THROUGH 
 
 the birth-place of Cato, the censor, and the retreat of 
 Cicero. 
 
 Among the crowd of nearer objects in front the sight is 
 arrested by the globular roof of the pantheon, rising into 
 view like the side of a hill, 
 
 Near it are seen the solar obelisk of Augustus, restored 
 by the late pope (it once shewed the hours of the day by its 
 shadow falling upon lines of brass) and the coluran_ of 
 Antonine, that still occupies the spot on which it was placed 
 by Marcus Aurelius. 
 
 Farther an is the column of Trajan. 
 
 Above it, on the Qqirinal Hill, is the summer-palace of 
 the popes, and the church of Santa Maria Maggiore. 
 
 To the right lies the Capitol, now a modern town 
 house. 
 
 Behind it is the Forum Romanum, surrounded by the 
 broken porticos of temples, the falling arcades of the 
 palace of the Caesars, and the sunken arches through which 
 the insulted dignity of captive monarchs were led in chains, 
 to swell the triumph of returning conquerors. A practice 
 which would have been more suitably accompanied by the 
 war-whoop of Canadian savages than by the clangor tuba- 
 rum of civilized Rome. Even queens were not exempted 
 from this barbarous usage. It was suffered by a Parthian 
 princess, the splendour of whose court is still attested by 
 the ruins of Palmyra, and the last descendant of the Egyp- 
 tian Ptolomies only escaped the insupportable indignity by 
 a voluntary death. 
 
 Beyond them are seen the sweeping stories of the 
 Coliseum, one of its ample sides frowning in naked majesty 
 over the dilapidated ruins of the other. 
 
 Farther on are the turrets of St. John de ^ateran, with 
 the gigantic obelisk by which they are overlooked. 
 
 Not far distant is the pyramidal tomb of Caius Cestius, at 
 the foot of which pratestants who die at Rome are permitted 
 to repose in peace. 
 
 To the right we look down upon the multifarious depart- 
 ments of the baths of Caracal la (the Caracul of Ossian, king 
 of the world) extending over whole acres of ground, in un- 
 distinguishable ruin. 
 
 Without the gate of St. Sebastian, anciently the Portus 
 Capenus, the Appian Way 1 may be traced for miles 
 by double rows of crumbling monuments, like a funeral 
 procession attending the obsequies of imperial Rome. 
 
SWITZERLAND AND ITALY. 
 
 125 
 
 ft All is now silent and solitary/' I quote the language of 
 the eloquent historian of the empire, .ff where the pave- 
 ment once resounded to the hasty proof's of the messen- 
 gers of command, and the harbingers of victory, en- 
 countering each other from the remotest parts of the 
 earth." 
 
 Farther on are seen diverging from their centre the 
 interrupted chains of broken aqueducts, stretching with 
 gigantic strides, as far as the eye can reach across the 
 desolated plain. 
 
 Methinks I see the venerable shades of Roman virtue 
 hovering over the scenes of their patriotic devotion ! The 
 unconquerable captive, who, in those very fields below me 
 thurst his hand into the flames, to defy the impotence of 
 victory ; the dauntless knight who singly defended yonder 
 broken bridge, against a host of foes ; the generous citizen 
 who leaped into a bursting gulph to save his country, in the 
 area which is now surrounded by yon mouldering ruins • 
 the voluntary hostage, who returned to Carthage through 
 yonder streets, to devote his life where he had pledged his 
 honour ; the relenting conqueror, who suffered himself to 
 be vanquished, without those gates, at the head of a victo- 
 rious army, by the intercession of a Roman matron.* 
 
 But before all the heroes of antiquity, many of whose 
 crumbling tombs may yet be traced around me, let me call 
 to mind the disinterested patriot, who repeatedly descended 
 from the curule chair to dress again the neglected fields of 
 his humble patrimony at the foot of yonder hills. 
 
 The example of Cincinnatus, after a lapse of ages, has 
 been revived or exceeded amid the forests of America bv 
 the unassuming cultivator of the banks of the Patowmak 
 Washington, like the Roman sage, too rich in himself to 
 be seduced by wealth or honours, to forsake the calm enjoy- 
 ments of domestic life, obeyed again and again the 
 summons of his country, to devote himself to the emergen- 
 cies of the state. 
 
 Mankind I trust will one day become wise enough to 
 transfer their admiration from their conquerors to & their 
 benefactors. The virtues of Washington and Cincinnatus 
 
 * " The noble sister of Publicola, 
 
 " The moon of Rome, chaste as the icicle 
 " That's curdled by the frost from purest snow, 
 H And hangs on Dian's temple.'' •— 
 
126 TRAVELS THROUGH 
 
 will then efface the victories of Buonaparte and Alexander, and 
 the modest mantle of republican simplicity will eclipse the frip- 
 perv of imperial robes. 
 
 The little rotunda which appears upon the right, behind 
 those pointed roofs, marks the very spot where the new born 
 infants, Romulus and Remus, exposed upon the Tiber by the 
 command of Amulius, were found and fostered by a neighbour- 
 ing shepherd. 
 
 Its impenetrable cope has successively protected a temple and 
 a church ; and tradition, pointing to the solid hemisphere, has 
 told the story of the suckling wolf to a hundred generations, 
 which have fallen around it like the leaves of autumn. 
 
 Within yon shapeless mass of Roman brick that can scarcely 
 be discerned on the left, amidst clustering battlements, were 
 deposited the remains of Caesar Augustus ; the same who at the 
 auspicious birth of the babe of Bethlehem, had sent forth a 
 decree, that all the world should be taxed. 
 
 It was once a pompous mausoleum, surrounded by alleys of 
 evergreens, and distinguished by obelisks of granite, whose solid 
 masses promised to illustrate it for ever. 
 
 But the groves have been supplanted by plebeian hovels, and 
 the obelisks themselves, after having been overturned and buried 
 in the dust, have been removed to other courts, to gratify the 
 pride of other princes. 
 
 Somewhere hereabout were the gardens of JLucuilus, and 
 somewhere there was the palace of Mecamas, where Virgil may 
 have penned his iEneid, or Horace pointed his satires, specu- 
 lating at their ease upon life and manners, under the convenient 
 patronage of the rich and great. 
 
 Yon insignificant turret disguises the spot where Cato rea- 
 soned, and Cicero declaimed, in the venerable audience of tlie 
 conscript fathers of imperial Rome. 
 
 In the same direction, though not within sight, are the re- 
 mains of Jppii Forum, and the reputed ruins of the Three 
 Taverns, zohere the Brethren of Rome met St. Paul on his arrival 
 from Judea ; " whom, when Paul saw," says the author of the 
 Acts of the Apostles, " he thauked God and took courage." 
 
 Below us is the very street in which the eloquent Apostle of 
 the Gentiles, having appealed to Casar, dicelt two whole years 
 in his own hired house, and received all that came in unto 
 him preaching the kingdom of God, and teaching those things 
 which concern the Lord Jesus Christ, with all conjidence—no 
 man forbidding him. . V r ' r 
 
 It'was there that, being rejected -by the chief of the J exes, 
 though bound for the hope of Israel, he prophetically declared 
 
SWITZERLAND AND ITALY. 
 
 127 
 
 the salvation of God was sent unto the Gentiles, and that they 
 would hear iU — A prediction which was marvellously fulfilled 
 upou this very spot, though ten persecutions afterward oppressed 
 the church. 
 
 Just below me, on the right, is the roof of Santa Maria in 
 Transtevere, a church that was built in the year 222, and dedi- 
 cated by Calixtus, then bishop of Rome, to the Virgin Mary. 
 
 ft marks, I believe, the first palpable departure from primi- 
 tive purity, in point of worship, though professing Christians had 
 long before enlisted in the Roman legions, ingloripusly deserting 
 the banner of the Prince of Peace. 
 
 Around me 1 can still trace several monuments of the piety, 
 perhaps the policy of Constautine, when Christianity became the 
 predominating religion of the empire. 
 
 Those fields upon my left were the scene of the pretended 
 Vision of the Cross, on the strength of which the first Christian 
 emperor actually gained a victory over his rival Maxentius, who 
 perished in the Tiber, below yon distant bridge. 
 
 Within the next three centuries were instituted some of the 
 many convents that might be counted from where I stand, in 
 which numerous fraternities of devoted regulars have dozed away 
 their useless lives in unbroken succession for a thousand years. 
 
 From the courts of the Vatican, on my left, issued for ages 
 the Papal bulls, which could dissolve private obligation, and 
 dispense with public allegiance, until the princes of Christendom 
 were taught by the harbingers of reformation to dispute the 
 supremacy, and to doubt the infallibility of the supposed vicar 
 of Christ. 
 
 The everlasting High Priest of the Christian dispensation, far 
 from appointing a lordly successor to rule over his flock, ex- 
 pressly abolished the Levitical priesthood, that he might teach 
 his people himself '. , 
 
 Yon gloomy turret betrays the Dominican cloister in which 
 the tribunal of the Inquisition long strove, in vain, to stifle the 
 vigorous birth of heaven-born truth. 
 
 In the plain upon our right, two centuries before Augustus, 
 encamped the veteran Hannibal, after he bad thrice defeated 
 the Roman consuls and dictators, in a toilsome march from the 
 Straits of Gibraltar through Spain, France, and Italy, across 
 the Alps and the Apennines. 
 
 Yet, while at one gate lay the victorius Carthagenian, the, 
 imperturbable senate sent off recruits, by another, to the army 
 in Spain. 
 
 But below me (behind the palace, or the castle) is a modern 
 postern, through which general Berthier, having encamped his 
 
128 
 
 TRAVELS THROUGH 
 
 forces on the Monte Maria, penetrated the Papal citadel, and 
 ascended without striking a blow, the capitol of the Cassars. 
 
 Such was, and such is Rome, alike in the tropes of Cicero, 
 and the figures of Gibbon, the citadel of nations, and the metro- 
 polis of the globe — the eternal citiy, that survived the empire of 
 the world, to establish a new dominion over the nations of the 
 earth. 
 
 CHAP. XVII. 
 
 SKETCHES OF LIFE AND MANNERS. 
 
 ThE Italian populace is every where idle, rude, and noisy. 
 In Rome itself the meanest of the people make way for no one ; 
 and as they stand chattering upon the narrow footways, where 
 there happens to be any, will oblige the genteelest passengers to 
 turn into the street ; nay, retort upon them with insolence, if 
 requested to give way even for a lady. 
 
 Yet, in polite address, the French and English second person 
 plural, and the German third, are in Italy sublimely refined into 
 the feminine gender, and John Bull is struck dumb on his ar- 
 rival at Rome to hear himself ceremoniously announced as 
 " Sua Excellenza." 
 
 A common tradesman is designated in writing with " Illus- 
 trissime Signor, Signor ;" and the usual form of subscription to 
 a letter of business is " Your Slave that of ?nost humble 
 servant (unworthy as it is of English sincerity) not being quite 
 abject enough for Italian adulation. 
 
 The nobility are princes, their houses are palaces, their sons 
 are Caesars and Scipios ; nay, their cooks are " Ministia della 
 Cucina," and their scullions are " Delia Famiglia" of such and 
 such a grandee. 
 
 In Rome idle beggars will stretch themselves quite across the 
 pavement, and oblige all that pass by to turn out into the mud, 
 or step over their extended limbs, nauseous with real or pre- 
 tended ulcers. 
 
 In the porticoes of frequented churches, lazy raggamuffins 
 will sun themselves upon the steps, and pick vermin from their 
 bodies, in a manner which decency forbids me to describe. 
 
 Tie market-place, a large oblong square, ornamented with 
 
SWITZERLAND AND ITALY. Jgg 
 
 sculptured fountains, under the elegant appellation of Piazza 
 Navona, exhibits twice a week an unparalleled scene of uproar 
 and confusion. 
 
 Imagine the hubbub of ten thousand voices, rough with the 
 jargon of a dozen dialects, and hoarse with incessant outcry 
 opening at once upon the turn of a corner. 
 • A Philadelphian would think there was a fire, and that every 
 man was calling upon his neighbour to help to put it out :— no 
 such matter, they are only endeavouring to cheat one another 
 in counting cabbages and measuring potatoes. 
 
 In this interesting operation the buyer struggles for over- 
 measure, and the seller shuffles off under weight, with deafening- 
 vociferation. & 
 
 This amicable mode of interchanging the commodities of life 
 so frequently extends to blows, and would otherwise terminate 
 in pitched battles, that a file of soldiers constantly attend, with 
 shouldered firelocks, to keep the citizens and the country people 
 from tailing together by the ears. 
 
 In the Corso itself, the chief street of Rome, lined as it is 
 with churches and palaces, we are stunned every morning by 
 day-break with the shrill cries of those who sell fried minnows, 
 or roasted chesnuts, the price of which I shall never forget, for 
 my ears ring with the discordant sounds of 
 
 Quattro baioce ! Quattro baioce ! Quattro baioce ! 
 
 We learn to count Italian, without intending it, from a butch- 
 er's stall just under our windows, where we overhear continually 
 an idle custom, I believe, peculiar to these noisy people, of 
 counting aloud every penny of change, one by one. 
 
 , For instance, beef is four-pence a pound, and supposing a 
 slip-shod slattern (for such is the appearance of low life in Italy) 
 has bought. a pound and a quarter, she will be sure to count out 
 her broad copper baioces, 
 
 Uno ! Due ! Tre ! Quattro ! Chinque ! 
 
 in the tones of a bell-man or a ballad-singer. 
 
 The Italians still estimate the beginning of the day from the 
 end of it, and count the circling hours from sun-set to four-and- 
 twenty. At noon accordingly, in the summer solstice, the clock 
 strikes sixteen, in the winter nineteen, and as the increase or 
 decrease is often several minutes in a day, the town clocks are 
 hardly ever right, they being only corrected as often as this dif- 
 ference amounts to a quarter of an hour. Thus, for instance 
 you are gravely advertised by the almanac, that from the 16th 
 
 SWITZERLAND.] R 
 
130 
 
 TRAVELS THROUGH 
 
 ©f February to the 24th, it will be noon at a quarter past eigh- 
 teen ; but that on the 24th it will be noon at eighteen o'clock 
 precisely, and so continue till the 6th of March. 
 
 The beggars seldom tuin out to earn their daily bread till 
 toward noon, when they begin to be hungry, and then you are 
 occasionally serenaded with loud and continual moans, most 
 probably from some impostor more shameless than ordinary, 
 who will exhibit an appearance of accident or disease too shock- 
 j lg to be examined, from which those who choose to drop any- 
 thing into his hat, turn aw ay their eyes ; and those who do not 
 3i e fain to cross over the way, or turn about and take up the 
 next street. 
 
 This, however, is too great an exertion to be continued long, 
 and too bold an imposition to be suffered twice in the same place; 
 a silent display of palpable wretchedness is much more frequent, 
 like that of Lazarus at the door of Dives. 
 
 Of such there were several in my daily walks, whose well- 
 known stations I always avoided by going about, if I had it not 
 in my power to deal out to them the customary tribute ; for one 
 must be loaded w ith pence at Rome, as well as at London, to 
 satisfy all the beggars one meets. 
 
 When 1 first arrived at Rome, I resolved to give nothing to 
 any of the tribe whose age or decrepitude did not interest my 
 feelings, but this resolution cost me more than I gained by it ; 
 and 1 am convinced I should have done better to have taken the 
 opposite extreme, and kept my pocket ready for every applicant, 
 as the cheapest w ay to get rid of them. 
 
 But 1 could not help being scrupulous of supporting such 
 w orthlessness, and my English temper was besides unwilling to 
 yield to their irritating importunacy, especially in the churches, 
 -where it provoked me beyond measure to see them disturb peo- 
 ple at their devotions. 
 
 I once saw a dirty sibyl persecute by turns a whole string of 
 kneeling nuns, w hispering their orisons two by two before an 
 altar, till she drove them all away, and then turned round to me 
 you will readily believe for a frowning reprimand. 
 
 Another time, while I was sitting in the dusk of the evening 
 at the foot of the statue of St. Andrew, which occupies th« 
 hollow face of one of the pillars that support the dome of St. 
 Peter's, two French soldiers suddenly advanced from the Nave, 
 cast their eyes into the air, and walking round to where I sat, 
 asked me in respectful tones, " Est ce done ici Monsieur la 
 coupole dout on parle tant ?"* They were pursued by a ragged, 
 
 * I» this the dome of which so much is said, Sir? 
 
SWITZERLAND AND ITALY. 
 
 slattern, as keen as a hawk, teasing them for charity; and though 
 they politely assured her that they had no money to give, she 
 followed them with increasing importunity as far as I could see 
 them. 
 
 Besides occasionally collections at St. Peter's, one old woman 
 had a stationary residence in a corner of the Tribune, where she 
 levied a tax upon all who ventured to ascend it ; and another at 
 a distance, far beyond the sphere of her influence, got a living 
 by holding up the curtain of a door whenever she saw any body 
 going out that way likely to reward the service. 
 
 Every good Catholic seems to hold beggars sacred, as the 
 East Indians are said to venerate their Crazy Santos. 
 
 I soon found that nobody repelled their importunities but 
 myself ; nay, that if they asked alms in the name of the Virgin, 
 " Per la Madonna Santissima," or any favourite saint, such as 
 St. Joseph (the betrothed husband of the Virgin Mother) ; the 
 St. Francis de Sales, or St. Anthony of Padua, a good Catholic 
 would lift one hand to his hat, though he should not put the 
 other in bis pocket. 
 
 I must certainly pass for an arch heretic in the streets of 
 Rome, notwithstanding my devout attendance at St. Peter's ; for 
 J often refuse importunate beggars without minding what Saint 
 they invoke, yet my credit may be sometimes locally restored 
 when a decrepid old woman kneels before the next Madonna, 
 and prays for the soul of the stranger, that has put into her 
 palsied hand a paid or a scudi. 
 
 Their usual resource of the convents has been cut off ever 
 since the French revolution, but they still hold every devotee 
 under a contribution, which they levy with inexorable strictness 
 on the day of his tutelar saint, and you often see them running 
 in crowds from house to house and demanding their money, as 
 confidentially as if they were suing for a debt. 
 
 Perhaps, indeed, they may be thought to earn the gratuity by 
 a Pater-noster, or an Ave-Maria, which the beggar is alwavs 
 expected to say for the soul's health of his benefactor. An ad- 
 ditional reason for giving to all that ask, as however little 
 the slender faith of a Protestant may be disposed to rely for sal- 
 vation upon the prayers of another, what sectarian would suffer 
 himself to be suspected of heresy in the sight of the hereditary 
 representatives of the primitive church, when such a trifle would 
 make him pass for a true believer. 
 
 The nobility of Rome (for there is no social gradation in Italy 
 comparable to that of gentry in England, and the United Stales, 
 which, admitting scientific and commercial pursuits, embraces 
 almost exclusivsly the useful and the agreeable of life) were 
 
 * 2 
 
132 
 
 TRAVELS THROUGH 
 
 never remarkable for their attention to strangers; indeed 
 the very construction of a Roman palace almost precludes 
 the enjoyment of social intercourse, and the exercise of 
 domestic hospitality. 
 
 Their family accommodations are inconvenient and re- 
 mote, and the state apartments of their palaces, or rather 
 museums of painting and sculpture, are only adapted for 
 the gratification of curiosity, or the fluttering circulation 
 of a hundred butterflies at a time, through the prolonged 
 train of anti-chambers, saloons, and drawing-rooms, at a 
 conversazione, or a masquerade. 
 
 Their little curiosity, and less exertion, (since the frater- 
 nal embraces of the French revolutionists have squeezed 
 their purses) has shut most of them up within their palaces, 
 where they can avoid all expences but those of equipage 
 and attendance; contenting themselves with the occa- 
 sional display of an old-fashioned coach and six rattling 
 across the ring of the Corso, with half a dozen attend- 
 ants. 
 
 The right honourable practice, however inconsistent with 
 the duty of public worship, indispensible to humbler Chris- 
 tians, which allows the indulgence of a private chapel, or 
 a domestic chaplain, sheds convenient obscurity upon the 
 idleness or inattention of private service. At Rome, as 
 ^veli as at London, the nobility are rarely seen at church. 
 Indeed, throughout Europe, the public practice of the 
 duties of religion is every where left to the decent atten- 
 tion of the middling, and the zealous fervour of the lower 
 classes of society. 
 
 I have, however, seen a Roman prince stop his chariot 
 in the dusk of the evening, upon the bridge of St. Angelo, 
 and kneel down in the dirt before a brazen image. A beg- 
 gar was soon at his side, and as his highness rose from his 
 knees he handed a baioce to the kneeling suppliant, pleased 
 with the opportunity of discharging, at once, the irksome 
 obligations of penitence and charity. 
 
 Before the Revolution, the Cardinal de Bernis, s/o justly 
 celebrated by grateful travellers for his liberal hospitality 
 and polite attention to strangers, prided himself upon re- 
 flecting upon the splendour of his court, whose ample al- 
 lowance to its ambassadors, together with the perquisites 
 of cardinal protector to the Gallician church, enabled the 
 courtly prelate to maintain at Rome the munificence of a 
 prince. His Eminence used to say, with characteristic 
 
SWITZERLAND AND ITALY. 
 
 gaiety, " Je tiens l'Hotel de la France, an Carrefour de 
 I'Europe.* 
 
 In J769 (if I recollect right) when the emperor Joseph 
 visited Cardinal Albani, at his celebrated villa, near the 
 Porta Pinciana, the astonished prince praised it so exces- 
 sively, that the cardinal could do no less than beseech !m 
 majesty to accept of the trifling bauble. The extravagance 
 of Roman generosity at first embarrassed ihe titular king of 
 the Romans; but recollecting himself with magnanimity, 
 Joseph II. restored the princely donation, with the royal 
 compliment, that he was not rich enough to make a suitabla 
 return. 
 
 The general idleness of the people of Rome is provoking 
 a? well as contemptible to strangers. If you stop to look at 
 any thing, others will stop to look at you. If you cheapen 
 a print or a medal (an indispensible operation in buying anv 
 thing upon the continent of Europe, however disagreeable 
 to the feelings of an American) a dozen idlers will be sure 
 to look on till the conclusion of the bargain ; perhaps to 
 satisfy their impertinent curiosity, by minutely examining; 
 the object of your fancy. 
 
 The Romans themselves think it a recommendation to a 
 tradesman, or a confidant, to be a foreigner; and even the 
 members of the Sacred College are rarely natives of Rome. 
 
 The few manufactories of mercery or hard-w r aie are so 
 coarsely finished, that those of France or England are de- 
 cisively preferred. The art of painting has been again lost 
 at Rome, notwithstanding the pompous apparatus of the 
 Schools of the Conservatory. Only in music, in statuary, 
 and mosaic-work, do they maintain the proud superiority 
 of the Roman name, though engravings, cameog, and in- 
 taglios, are yet done at Rome. 
 
 Perhaps some of these circumstances may be traced from 
 physical causes. The gradual progress of sculpture indispen- 
 sibly requires a patient and steady hand. My own acquaint- 
 ance with statuaries, chiefly in Italy, confirms the observa- 
 tion : to a man I have found them mild and tranquil, ho 
 less regular in their motions than steady in their pursuits. 
 
 There is certainly something enervating in the general 
 mildness, and occasional heat of the climate of Italy, notwith? 
 standing the enterprising character of the ancient Romans. 
 Bqt it has materially changed since their day ; for we learn 
 from Horace, that the .streets of Rome were filled, during 
 
 * I keep the French H«te!. at the cross roads of Europe. 
 
134 
 
 TRAVELS THROUGH 
 
 winter, with ice and snow ; and it appears from the satires 
 ©f Juvenal, that it was nothing uncommon to see the Tiber 
 frozen over, and covered with skating boys, as the surface 
 of the Delaware often is at this day ; whereas, at present, 
 the fields are rarely whitened by snow, and the river hag 
 not been frozen within the memory of man. 
 
 In modern Rome, an essay upcn any thing but the won* 
 derfiil life of the saint that was last canonized would be 
 itself a wonder; and the only newspaper that can be seen 
 at the coffee-houses, or the book-stores, is the still solitary 
 Gazetta of Venice, whose name bespeaks the antiquated 
 origiual of the innumerable advertisers of Europe and Ame- 
 rica. 
 
 Accordingly of the history or geography, the religion or 
 the politics of the surrounding countries, nothing is dis- 
 tinctly l«nown at Rome, and Cardinal A , when: 
 
 our countryman, W , was introduced for his protection, 
 
 as a student of painting from Philadelphia, being thert 
 blind with age, desired to feel the features of the young 
 American — the first that had ever appeared at Rome, and 
 with a smile of courtly condescension, he expressed him- 
 self agreeably surprised to find that they were not unlike 
 his own. 
 
 It is told, I think of Ganganelli, perhaps, because it could 
 not be supposed with probability of any other head which 
 has worn the triple crown since Sixtus V. that his holiness 
 once meeting a capuchin well mounted, humorously asked 
 the bare- footed friar how long it was since St. Francis 
 rode on horseback, and was tartly answered, " Ever since 
 St. Peter rode in a coach." 
 
 It is said too, that the same Pope asked Cardinal B 
 
 if he was sincere when he wished he might live for ever, 
 according to the phraseology of etiquette, on his elevation 
 to the papal chair; " As much so," replied his Eminence, 
 '* as your Holiness, when you did homage to your beatified 
 predecessor." 
 
 At Rome, at least before the French and English taught 
 a better taste, the palm of excellence was distributed among 
 the unrivalled painters of the age of Leo X. by the rules 
 of devotion, rather than those of taste. The Transfigura- 
 tion of Raphael, the Communion of Domenichino, the 
 Crucifixion of Daniel de Volterre, and the St. Ilomuald of 
 Andrea Sacchi, were long considered as the finest paintings 
 in Rome, by the devout amateurs of Italy; but since those 
 philosophic nations have revived the an of* painting, which 
 6 
 
SWITZERLAND AND ITALY. 135 
 
 may be said to have died in Italy with Carlo Marratti, at 
 the expiration of the seventeenth century, the four paint- 
 ings most esteemed at Rome, at least by foreigners, are the 
 Scripture History of the Capella Sistina, by Michael An- 
 gelo ; the School of Athens, by Raphael ; the Aurora, of 
 Guido ; and the Cardinal Virtues of Domenichino. 
 
 Even in the Capella Sistina, contemporary Romans fixed 
 their admiration upon the picture of the Last Day, in which 
 there are more defects of judgment than flights of imagi- 
 nation. It has been reserved lor critics of the French and 
 English schools to distinguish the master-strokes of Michael 
 Aagelo among the prophets and sibyls, which had nearly- 
 faded from the ceiling before tbe Italians thought of en- 
 graving those matchless compositions of poetic enthusiasm. 
 
 Thus too, the Madonna deila Sedia of the Palazzo Pitti, 
 now in the private apartments of the Thuilleries, passed cur- 
 rent under the name of its author (il divino Raphaello) for one 
 of the finest things in the world, till Dr. Moore ventured to 
 promulgate the pictorial heresy, that the Virgin was no- 
 thing more than a buxom lass, and the child only a hearty 
 urchin. 7 
 
 The merits of statuary have been alike determined by 
 predilection for a name, witness the monstrous model of 
 the Hercules of Glycon, which, at London, in the full 
 extravagance of unnatural proportions, oppresses, with 
 ponderous and unvveildy limbs, the stair-case of the Royal 
 Academy. 
 
 At Rome, the devotion of the commonalty is constant 
 and invariable} you would think they had nothing to do 
 but attend to the ceremonies of the church ; yet°such is 
 the ferment occasioned by the drawing of the lottery, that 
 the quantity of bread then consumed at Rome is observed 
 by the bakers to be perceptibly less than usual. Many of 
 them hear a mass at the next chapel every morning, though 
 in winter, mattins take place an hour before day, and be- 
 tween the frequent holydays there is always an illumination; 
 a concert, or a representation in dumb-shew of scripture- 
 history, at one or other of the innumerable churches to 
 amuse eyery day of the tedious interval between Christmas 
 and Easter, between Easter and the anniversary of St. 
 Peter and Paul, between the anniversary and that of the 
 reigning Pope, and between that and Christmas, beginning 
 aguin the never ceasing round. . ° 
 
 But the sameness of the annual exhibitions is seasonably 
 varied, by occasional interludes, the coronation of a pope, 
 
TRAVELS THROUGH 
 
 or the' interment of a cardinal, expected with equal eager- 
 ness and enjoyed with equal satisfaction by gaping crowds, 
 who thus without perceiving it barter their individual inter- 
 ests for the splendour of the church. 
 
 All these operations however are performed with the" 
 usual indifference of matters of course. Polite people will 
 compliment one another whilst on their knees before the 
 altar. Devotees will give or take a pinch of snuff, with all 
 the ease of good breeding, between a pater and an ave. 
 The very canons of Saint Peter's will snuff up incense from 
 the consecrated censer, when it is offered them with affected 
 veneration, resume their seats with indifference, and talk 
 away the tedious moments whilst the same ceremony is 
 performed, with graduated abatements, before the benefi- 
 ciaries and residentiary clerks, nay his holiness himself 
 when kneeling in silent prayer ( a custom derived no doubt 
 from the usage of the primitive church) will be surrounded 
 "by four of his life-guards, with their hats upon their heads, 
 and drawn swords glittering in their hands 3 whilst the silence 
 of his clerical attendants is disturbed by the whisperings 
 of impatience, and the importunities of beggary. 
 
 The only ceremony that I ever observed to be accom- 
 panied with much appearance of mental fervour, or heart- 
 felt zeal, was the singing of the litany in a kind of evening' 
 service, which is peiormed before the Madonnas, at the 
 corners of the streets. 
 
 The assistants at this ceremony, like those who sing 
 psalms in protestant churches, are seldom deficient in zeal, 
 whatever else they may lack, and it has often stirred up 
 my own stagnant piety, to hear them from our windows 
 of an evening praying wiih devout vociferation, before 
 an image in the corso, in a language they did not under- 
 stand. 
 
 Virgo pussima ! Ora pro nobis! 
 Mater dbWissiiria ! Ora pro nobis! 
 Itegina altissima! Ora pro nobis!* 
 
 •When they have all their changes to the same monoton- 
 ous tune, they generally conclude with a solemn intonation 
 in their native tongue : 
 
 * Most pious virgin ! Pray for us! 
 Most sorrowful mother! Pray forus! 
 Most potent queen ! Pray for us! 
 
SWITZERLAND" AND ITALY* 
 
 Eviva! Maria! 
 Maria! Eviva! 
 
 Eviva ! Maria ! Eviva ! Eviva ! 
 Eviva! Maria! E'chi la creo!* 
 
 LETTER XVIIL 
 
 dEREMONIES OF THE CHURCH OF ROME* 
 
 In the month of October the pope performs an apostolical 
 visitation, going every day in state to assist at high mass 
 in one or other of the innumerable temples, whose privi- 
 leged shrines have given to Rome the surname of La Santa, 
 and his holiness compliments the patrons of eight or ten 
 particular churches by attending on the day of their anni* 
 versaries, when he is borne aloft on men's shoulders, through 
 the, long-drawn aisles. 
 
 The papal functions at the celebration of Christmas 
 begin an hour before midnight, at the private chapel of 
 the palace on Monte Cavallo. 
 
 The Capella Paulina is a parallelogram of thirty feet by 
 ninety, with a flat ceiling. At one end of it is an altar 
 overshadowed by a purple canopy, on one side of which is 
 the pontifical throne, on the other a gallery for the papal 
 band, concealed from view by a screen of trellis work. 
 Between them are raised seats for the cardinals, before 
 which are footstools for their clerical attendants, whose 
 business it is to adjust the robes of their eminences, accord- 
 ing to the established ceremonial. 
 
 The Sanctum Sanctorum is separated from the lower 
 end of the chapel, in which attendants and spectators are 
 allowed to stand promiscuously, by a low railing, on which 
 are placed six or eight massy candlesticks, with enormous 
 wax candles, which are always kept burning in time of ser- 
 vice, whether it be day or night. 
 
 Near the railing is a raised pew, latticed round, in which 
 ladies are permitted to attend, provided they appear in 
 black, and veiled. 
 
 Into this chapel, illuminated with consecrated tapers, 
 the cardinals in robes of scarlet, having been previously 
 seated around the papal throne, at eleven o'clock on Christ- 
 mass eve, in the year 1801 entered Pius VII, arrayed in a 
 scarlet robe, embroidered with gold, having on his head 
 
 * Long live Mary, and he who created her! 
 SWITZERLAND.] f> 
 
TRAVELS THROUGH 
 
 an episcopal mitre, sparkling with precious stones, the 
 united voices of a dozen musicians ascending at the same 
 moment. 
 
 When the pope had seated himself on the throne he 
 graciously received the homage of the cardinals, who 
 approached his footstool one by one, in a continued row 
 of adulatory attendance, under a thundering intonation 
 from the gallery, which continued till their eminenciesK 
 had resumed their seats, received the papal blessing, which 
 was three times thrown over the beaming circle, and gra- 
 ciously snuffed up the smoking incense, which had been 
 cast by his holiness himself upon the live coal of the cen- 
 ser, presented to him by kneeling prelates, after having 
 been consecrated at the altar to scent with its spicy odours, 
 perhaps to purify with its penetrating fumes, the possible, 
 or probable uncleanness of princely ministration. 
 
 After this ceremony had been performed, the music 
 ceased; silence prevailed for half an hour, their eminences 
 muttering private ejaculations with different degrees of 
 zeal. At midnight all was still : during the solemn pause, 
 anxious with expectation, cardinal Litta, a tall and grace- 
 ful figure, advanced with a measured step to the middle 
 of the floor, which is on this occasion covered with green 
 cloth; his scarlet robes flowing behind him, in an ample 
 train, and pronounced aloud, from a brazen eagle ( upon 
 whose outspread wings had been unfolded the sacred 
 volume) those passages of unparalleled sublimity, in which 
 St. Luke has recorded the annunciation of the Messiah. 
 
 Now you hear the magnificent prelude of John the 
 Baptist ; 
 
 Vox clamantis in deserto, Parate viam Domini,* 
 
 Anon you listen to the grand accompaniment of the Hea- 
 venly Host, singing and praising God in the air : 
 
 Gloria in excelsis Deo, et in terra, pax in Homines benevoIentia.t 
 
 And you retire from the imposing scene, your ears stili 
 tingling with the joyful acclamation of Simeon, the man 
 just and devout, that had long waited for the consolation 
 of Isarel, who when the child Jesus was presented in the 
 Temple took him up in his arms and blessed the God of 
 
 * The voice of one crying in the wilderness ; Prepare ye the way of the Lor& 
 f Glory to God in the highest. Peace on earth and good will to men. 
 
SWITZERLAND AND ITALY. 129 
 
 Israel, who had raised him up, according to his promise, 
 a Horn of Salvation in the house of his servant David : 
 
 Nunc dimittis servum tuum Domine !* 
 
 Nobody goes lo bed at Rome on Cbristmas-eve ; men wo- 
 men and children are up in arms the whole night, running 
 about from, concert to illumination, and from illumination 
 to concert. 
 
 There was a splendid illumination of the high altar at 
 the beautiful church of San Luigi de Francisi, where the 
 innumerable lights had a brilliant effect upon the gilded 
 stucco of the nave; but the clergy of St. Apollinaire, JE 
 know not for what reason, disappointed the public of a 
 concert which had been devoutly expected. 
 
 This desultory movement wears away the night, and 
 toward morning every body flocks to see the Bambino, at 
 Santa Maria Maggiore. 
 
 Here a wax baby is produced by the canon, in a side 
 chapel at the lower end of the church. We were told they 
 had one of silver before the incursion of the French. 
 
 The Bambino is carried in procession upon a bed of state, 
 beneath a lofty canopy, thousands of Transteverini follow- 
 ing pellmell, and singing with all their might, to the upper 
 end of the church, where the iron gates of the chapel of 
 Sixtus V are thrown open to receive it, and a concert of 
 instrumental music is performed from the organ loft, in 
 emulation of the symphonies of the Heavenly Host, when 
 the real Messiah was ushered into the world. 
 
 At day-break it is brought forth, with the profoundest 
 reverence and placed upon the high altar, between two 
 Seraphs, who guard it with their wings. 
 
 Here it remains all day to receive the tardy and less 
 tumultuous homage of thegenteeler classes of society. 
 
 As we went home to breakfast charity was asked in the 
 name of the new born Bambino, to whom even the Ma- 
 donna Santissima yields the precedence on Christmas day. 
 
 She had been serenaded every morning for a month 
 past, at the corners of the streets, by Calabrian pipers, 
 whose devout attendance ceasing on the happy delivery, 
 the monks of Santa Maria now vied with the nuns of St. 
 Joseph in their respective exhibitions of the holy family in 
 the stable of Bethlehem. 
 
 At ten o'clock high mass was celebrated by the pope 
 
 * L?rd now Jcttest thou thy servant depart in peace,. 
 S 8 
 
340 
 
 TRAVELS THROUGH 
 
 himself at St. Peter's, attended by all the cardinals, in epis- 
 copal habits flowered with silver, and bordered with Brussels 
 lace, a temporary throne and seats having been erected for 
 their accommodation in the tribune. 
 
 On this occasion the Latin and Greek gospels were 
 chanted bv the priests of the respective churches, with that 
 pe . uliar monotony, which seems to have been appropriated 
 to the reading of the scriptures, by ancient and modern Chris- 
 tians, with universal consent. 
 
 The pope's dress was frequently changed during the 
 ceremony, as some operations were to be performed in a red 
 cloak, and some in a white one, and some things were to be 
 done with the mitre on, and some with it off. 
 
 He received the communion in both kinds himself, suck~ 
 ing a drop of wine from the chalice, through a golden 
 pipe, a custom introduced, it seems, about the tenth 
 cei.tury, and since discontinued, except by the pope, 
 whose peculiar privilege it is to do nothing like other 
 people. 
 
 The pontiff afterward administered the wafer to each 
 of the cardinals, and was borne away on men's shoulders, 
 •under a silken canopy, a fan of ostrich feathers waving on 
 each side of his chair, while drawn swords glittered before 
 and behind. 
 
 There must have been five thousand people at St. Peter's 
 on this occasion, yet there was no crowding : there would 
 have been room for as many more within the circumference 
 of the dome alone, and I make no doubt but that all the 
 people in Philadelphia, might have been present, and left 
 loom to spare in the immense recesses of this gigantic 
 edifice. 
 
 On such occasions the pope is slowly conveyed to church 
 \n an old fashioned state coach, drawn by six horses, the 
 postillions riding before his holiness, bare-headed, a low 
 coachman's box covered with scarlet damask, the livery of 
 the postillions being always left vacant to give a full view 
 through the fote glass. 
 
 This vain parade is preceded by an ecclesiastic, mounted 
 npon an ass, though bearing in his hand a golden cross. 
 Thus proudly imitating the humble Jesus, when he rode into. 
 Jerusalem upon an ass's colt. The way too is strewed 
 With tanners' bark, in imitation of the palms and garments 
 which were then strewed before the Son of David. 
 
 But when the prince bishop rides out to take the air, he 
 drives furiously through the streets of Home in a travelling 
 
SWITZERLAND AND ITALY. J41 
 
 coach, preceded by horse-guards, with their swords drawn, 
 and followed by attendant ecclesiastics, in two or three 
 coaches and four. 
 
 Every body runs to the window at the cry of, II papa 1 
 II papa! the devout kneel before this heterogeneous rattle 
 in which the prelate would be quite lost in the prince, if his 
 equivocal holiness did not betow his blessing as he passes, 
 by waving his right hand over the prostrate crowd, while 
 strangers stare or smile at the incongruous medley of thines 
 sacred and profane. 
 
 The officers of the pope's army, more willingly contem- 
 plate him as a prince than as a priest. They never speak of 
 the pontiff, but always of the sovereign, and they scarce ly 
 know how to keep themselves in countenance at the head of 
 their ranks, -when according to the established etiquette 
 they fall upon one knee and ground their arms before the 
 pope's coach, or face about to that of a cardinal with the 
 military salute. 
 
 The papal troops, however, have at last thrown away their 
 antiquated helmets and breastplates, and now appear equally 
 formidable in a hat and feather; but they still perform the 
 evolutions of tactics with less dexterity than the ceremonies 
 of religion. 
 
 Even the regimental band, when it plays martial airs, 
 seems like church music in comparison of the deafenino- cl»I 
 mour of English drums, and the penetrating vibration of 
 Trench trumpets, the favourite instruments of those rival 
 nations, with which they are always threatening reverse or 
 breathing defiance against each other. 
 
 Modern Rome has been emphatically called the king- 
 dom of priests. Every third or fourth* person you meet 
 is a Jimb of the priesthood, and many of them make a 
 very genteel appearance in suits of black, being only distin- 
 guished from laymen by their flapped hats and silken 
 skirts. 
 
 The same three cornered hat which is worn at Bethlehem 
 or Philadelphia by the brother or the friend, at Rome would 
 bespeak an abbe, perhaps a cardinal, for the red hat is only 
 worn in full dress, and a lady abbess in the streets of 
 Philadelphia might pass for a single Sister or a Matron 
 Jnend. 
 
 These are the gentry of the church, and to say nothing 
 of the cardinals in their coaches, with three footmen in 
 laced liveries behind, and a spare carriage for attendant 
 ecclesiastics, they contrast as much- as laymen themselves 
 
'Ht TRAVELS TH&OUGlt 
 
 with the vulgar herd of monks and friars, in the livery of St. 
 Benedict, St. Dominic, or St. Francis. 
 
 The latter use no linen, wear sandals, instead of shoes, 
 and carry a knotted rope about their middle, the symbol, 
 perhaps the instrument of penance and mortification. 
 
 Yet even these pure patterns of catholic humility some- 
 times throw away the dingy weeds of their order for the im- 
 perial purple of the college of cardinals, and ascend in their 
 turn the papal throne to wield with one hand the temporal 
 sword, and with the other the spiritual rod, over the prostrate 
 subjects of this twofold empire. 
 
 The other day there was high mass at the pope's chapel, I 
 forget on what occasion, but I perfectly remember the 
 ceremony. 
 
 Ascending to Monte Cavallo, at eleven o'clock, I found 
 the court-yard rattling with the coaches of the cardinals, and 
 mounting the great stair-case with a crowd or" priestly perso- 
 nages, some of them in red hats, I amused myself with see- 
 ing their eminences robed by their attendants without the 
 rails of the chapel. 
 
 Among the rest came Cardinal York, bending under the 
 weight of years and infirmities. His approach was marked 
 by unusual respect from the opening crowd of attendants 
 and spectators, in the lobby of the chapel, and the good 
 old man made every body happy, by that familiar affability, 
 
 which distinguishes his royal cousin, the K of G 
 
 B . He resembles him as much in countenance, and thai 
 
 legitimacy need no longer be denied to the cardinal Duca, 
 which was politically disputed with the elder scyon of the 
 unfortunate house of Stuart, in the person of the pre- 
 tender. 
 
 The cardinal is now the last representative of the abdi- 
 cated family, and has merited by his peculiar protection of 
 Englishmen at Rome, the royal pension of 50001. sterling, 
 which has been nobly remitted him from England, ever since 
 the late revolution, to enable him to support the dignity of 
 a prince of the blood of England. 
 
 When the consistory was assembled, the pope entered, 
 the band singing an anthem, unaccompanied by instru- 
 ments, none being allowed in the presence of the pontiff. I 
 suppose, from the usage immemorial of the catholic 
 church. 
 
 His holiness having seated himself upon the throne, 
 and being attended on the right hand by a solemn pageant 
 in a black gown and full bottomed wig, too aptly represent- 
 
SWITZERLAND AND ITALY. 14s 
 
 ^^£^ ded ^m^omm senator, received the 
 tut Til h0ma 8 e > and P*™*** the cusWm^ ofe 
 m the unposing att.tude of standi.^ UD a d Y t u r * 
 «g ;out the right hand, with expanded fibers! ' 
 
 After the adoration mass was said by a carding ri i.< 
 attired m episcopal snrcoats, an attendan ecc Sa t holt 
 ng up the white silk cloak, embroidered with £ er V 7 
 ugh enough to shew his red shoes, and he fie 1 ,ce V 
 lawn g surphce, over the glowing irf, }j X^ai* 
 
 - During the celebration, a cardinal hi«fc«* 1, • 
 
 £p|le^^^ 
 
 deafness of .he patriarchs of the exarch ' the 
 
 When the pope had received the communion f„ T, .1 
 kmds, kneeling before the altar, during X" ? cc 1 ' 
 there was total silence, and was again seated on hi?,! J ' 
 the band bnrst forth in tones of emul ation t T' 
 ponttff and afterward the cardinals S in . 
 were liberally periled with incense by ^LrJSJS^ 
 who tossed the censor before their sancttties whh n r 
 the proloundest veneration. with an air ot 
 
 genteeler classes °„f ^ ^ t ■^wf."'^^ '° ft 
 « s ™ non emi^oie'TntSro* W?'^ 
 
 he pronounced with all the distinctness o em,, :. ' ^ 
 
TRAVELS THROUGH 
 
 Bated altar, which is attended in turn by the priests of the 
 respective churches, where it is exhibited once a year, and 
 visited by all the devout of the neighbourhood, who em- 
 brace these opportunities to signalize their zeal by midnight 
 devotion. c 
 The celebration of the Ottavario delle Morte (the week ot 
 the dead) peculiarly belongs to this consecrated brother- 
 hood, though every church in Rome then exhibits upon its 
 pavement a general pall crowned with a death's head and 
 hung with cross bones. Around this simulatory the friends 
 and relations of all who have perished in the ocean, or been 
 slain in battle during the past year, have an opportunity to 
 attend the imaginary obsequies, and thus bestow on their 
 unburied reliques the benefit of Christian burial. 
 
 On this occasion the vaults of " our lady," adjured by the 
 solemn surnames « of prayer" and " of death", completely 
 lined, paved, and arched over with human bones in every 
 variety of arrangement, sometimes ridiculously horrible, are 
 fitted up with a dramatic representation of the pool ot 
 Bethesda, designed to induce the crowding populace to 
 have masses said in the church above for the souls or their 
 departed friends, who may be thus (say the priests at the 
 altar) as surely delivered from the pains of purgatory, as the 
 infirm man in the gospel would have been cured of his in- 
 firmity, if he had any body to have thrown him into the pool, 
 when the angel troubled the water. 
 
 Marvel not, gentle reader, at the furniture of this sepul- 
 chre, a vault is a suitable receptacle for dead men's bones. 
 I could take thee to a church beside the dome of St. Peter's 
 where thou mightest see the walls of a frequented chapel, 
 entirely constructed with the bones of thy fellow creatures, 
 exposed in the face of day. . 
 
 There death's heads would mock thee from storied win- 
 dows, and disjointed bones would threaten thee from totter- 
 ing pinnacles, reared upon gothic buttments of fantastic 
 lightness, knotted with the balls and sockets of kness and 
 elbows, bleaching in the wind. 
 
 But dry bones are not the only reliques of the dead, which 
 are indecently exposed in catho'lic countries. Their sallow 
 corpses are conveyed to church upon an open bier, accom- 
 panied by hired fraternities, who attend in white frocks, 
 under the disguise of a mask, and the rude mummers 
 often talk and sometimes laugh aloud as they roar out un- 
 hallowed hymns along the inattentive streets. 
 
 A prince or a prelate will lie in state for a day or two* 
 
SWITZERLAND AND ITALY. 
 
 nlv^tf Wlth ^T"? tapers u P° n tbe Pavement of » 
 W» L an , d / an °P! ed ^ the arcades of a church, W with 
 black and fringed with tinsel. ' *> 
 
 V CW dayS a§ ° J SaW the eraaciate <* Matures of the Prince 
 de M_ exposed in this shocking manner, in full dress "o 
 
 his side , and his shoes on his feet, while masses'' were sav- 
 vng in a dozen chapels for the doubtful repose of his soX 
 though I never understood but what he was a wod catholic 
 and as such must have had the benefit of plemryirXZ ^ 
 and apostolic benediction. * plenary indulgent 
 
 Enough, you'll say , of the cer emonies of the holy Roma* 
 church; but the scene must change to a guard-house \ 
 
 Sffi / 0 "^ 0 " bdieVe the insldeof a Pri on, 
 and felt the feverish impatience of involuntary confinement 
 for four-and-twenty hours together. ^""iiement 
 The last moonlight nights tempted me to break through 
 the gentle restraints of my prudent adviser, on a sol £ 
 excursion through the most unfrequented parts of Rome 7 
 
 *i;™T St T S6e u the d , andn S m ^n-beams shoot i fairv 
 glimmer athwart the colonnades of St. Peter's and n«Z 
 a stream of silver across the mountain of the dome 
 
 1 must needs explore the bleak arcades of the amohi 
 theatre infamous for the resort of thieves and murderer 
 when then- frowning horrors were dimly reflect^ ^ the 
 
 As I contemplated the vast circumference and unequal rli- 
 
 p&^. b Veering' °f |f 
 
 hallowed VVhiCh been CreCted 10 C " »> P 
 
 lim^in'i" 01 been an inco ^ible amateur of the sub- 
 lime, in the composition of which, unfortunately terror 
 
 from ;L d 7 enS,ble 1 ™^ h -'e S 2 
 
 t om the dozing mutterer, and gone home while I was well • 
 
 the portic 0 S of S? 0 { h H r ° f de ^>' 
 
 Thebes dG Laterdn ^ and & e obelis * of 
 
 I scanned the mystic column, and I viewed the elevation 
 ^Zt't^f^i™ ° f P^uresqne effect, t l° a 
 cham wl* b f° re 'j 1 *^ and dissolved the 
 SS Y here «pon I turned about for home, which mv 
 
146 
 
 TRAVELS THROUGH 
 
 hour, and bless me again with the smiles of expeting 
 affection. 
 
 But the moment I reached the portentous walls of the 
 Coliseum, I was arrested with a shrill " Chi e r" # It was 
 uttered by the nightly watch, who meeting me at such 
 an hour, in a place so suspicious, demanded my pass- 
 port. I felt for it, but found it not, and though I had in 
 my head a smattering of half the languages in Europe, I was 
 unable to make them understand me. They therefore hurried 
 liie to the guard-house, and left me to ruminate upon my situ- 
 ation in charge of the corporal of the night. 
 
 I sent off one soldier after another to relieve the anxiety 
 of my wife, with the intelligence of my confinement. 
 But they returned, one after another, without finding my 
 lodgings, though I could repeat to them by heart that they 
 were " Incontro San Carlo al Corso."t 
 
 I vented myself at first by rating at their unaccountable 
 stupidity in a hodge podge of languages, the chief ingre- 
 dient of which was French, though it was highly seasoned 
 with Latin and Italian phrases of vexation and contempt ; 
 but toward midnight 1 was stung to desperation by 
 the distress of my wife, and compelled the astonished corpo- 
 ral to let me go, under a guard, on a promise to return us 
 soon as I had informed her of my situation. 
 
 By this time the moon was obscured by clouds, there fell 
 a drizzling rain, we made a circuit through lanes and alleys 
 to avoid being hailed by the main-guard, and as soon as [ 
 came within sight of our chambers, I perceived the 
 partner of my heart at her windows listening to every 
 breeze. 
 
 The sight of me was sufficient, though under a guard of 
 soldiers, and she willingly permitted me to go back with 
 them, accompanied by our landlord, whom she had vainly 
 importuned to go in search of her husband, among the 
 broken vaults of the Coliseum, where she had fancied him 
 weltering in his blood. 
 
 The landlady, however, had endeavoured to console 
 her by praying before a picture of " Our lady of miracles," 
 that the unhappy Forestiesi might be restored by her pro- 
 pitious interference. 
 
 Next morning I was transferred to the main-guard, in 
 the Piazza Colonna, between two soldiers, who had 
 
 * Whos there r f Opposite to St. Charles's in the Corso. 
 
SWITZERLAND AND ITALY. 147 
 
 been directed to leave their arras behind them, in deference 
 to the confidential appearance of their prisoner. 
 ^ Here I could contemplate at leisure the bas-reliefs of the 
 Colonna Autonina, in the middle of the square, for the 
 officers on duty received me with politeness, and left me at 
 large, in their own apartments, excusing the unnecessary 
 * officiousness of the watch. 
 
 [ was soon waited on by the Abbe C , a lively little 
 
 Cicerone, well known to the officers of government, at the 
 request of our affectionate landlord, who assured me, with 
 tears in his eyes, that he would not rest till he had procured 
 my enlargement. 
 
 The Abbe was no sooner withdrawn than my dear B 
 
 ascended the stairs of my prison, through a file of soldiers, 
 and entered, with a smile of serenity, before the officers of 
 the guard. 
 
 But it was not till after night that our worthy landlord 
 brought me a discharge, which it had been impossible to 
 procure before, from the insolence of power or the delays 
 of office, telling me in a whisper, that I might think myse'tf 
 well off to have fallen into the hands of the soldiers, for the 
 sbirn (a sort of constables) would have stripped me of my 
 watch and money, as the perquisites of their rapacity, for 
 which there was no redress, asihey were under the protection 
 of a well known cardinal. 
 
 A few days after this vexatious adventure took place, the 
 coronation of the immortal Pio Settimo, as the' modem 
 Romans make no more scruple to call one tottering pre- 
 late after another than did the ancient to' deify their living 
 emperors. ^ & 
 
 This ceremony is perhaps more properly the taking posses- 
 sion of the church of St. John de Lateran, and oeing in- 
 stalled as universal bishop in the see of Rome. It had 
 been deferred nearly two years for political reasons, but Was 
 now performed with great pomp in the presence of a hundred 
 thousand spectators. 
 
 The day was fine, and the streets of Rome, from the' 
 palace to the church, were lined with impatient crowds, 
 and gaily adorned with silken tapestry, streaming from everv 
 window. J 
 
 The courts and the fields around the church, for like many 
 other ancient churches at Rome, St. John's is now quite out of 
 town, though within the walls of the ancient city, swarmed 
 with people on foot and in carriages. 
 
 At some distance to the left of the noble portico, already 
 
 t 2 
 
H8 
 
 TRAVELS THROUGH 
 
 described, a pavillion had been fitted up for tb» Senator ©f 
 Rome, the representative of the temporal administration of 
 this ghostly empire. 
 
 His lordship soon appeared in a state-coach, and took the 
 station, from which he was to address the pontiff in a set 
 speech, upon his arrival on the ground. 
 
 The train of the state pageant was followed by those of 
 the temporal barons, who alighted in the court, and ranged 
 themselves, according to their rank, within the portico, 
 where they were to do homage to their spiritual sovereign, as 
 he passed into the church. 
 
 The papal troops now took possession of the avenues, 
 and ranged a dozen pieces of cannon hi front of the 
 parade. 
 
 An hour afterward appeared the pope, drawn in a magni- 
 ficent coach of state, in which he was attended by two pre- 
 lates bare-headed. 
 
 He was arrayed in white and silver, and listened with con* 
 descending inattention to the tedious harangue of the 
 senator, at the coach side, being evidently discomposed at 
 the sight of the innumerable multitude by which he was 
 surrounded. ' 
 
 From time immemorial their holinesses on this occasion 
 have been reverently led to church, mounted upon a white 
 palfrey, and sheltered from *rain or sunshine, by a sill; 
 umbrella, held over their heads by a sturdy priest. Gan- 
 ganelli, was, I think, the first that ventured to break 
 through the antiquated custom in this age of universal in-* 
 novation. 
 
 Their clerical attendants however still ride after them, 
 in the style of antiquity, and make a respectable appearance 
 on horseback, as they follow two and two, in flowing cloaks 
 of purple cloth. 
 
 While the pope was received on the steps, and con 
 ducted into the portico to accept the homage of the barons 
 we got into the church, with great difficulty, under favou 
 of the guards on duty. 
 
 We found the spacious aisles by no means crowded, 
 though thousands of people genteely dressed, no others 
 being admitted, were already ranged op both sides of the 
 files of soldiers, which lined a broad passage from the 
 great door to the high altar, a distance of two hundred 
 feet. 
 
 The pope*s band, in Linen vestments, waited within the 
 folding, doors, and the moment they were thrown open they 
 
SWITZERLAND AND ITALY. 149 
 
 raised a Solemn intonation, as the new pope entered the 
 majestic aisle, which is so nobly ornamented bv eolossal 
 statues of the twelve apostles, the college of cardinals fall- 
 ing into his train from a side chapel richly habited in 
 episcopal garments of white silk, embroidered with silver, 
 having mitres of the same on their heads. 
 
 The pope now paid his devotion, during a pause of silence 
 at a side altar, and returning to the nave with the attendant 
 train of cardinal bishops, he proceeded round the high 
 altar to the tribune, ascended the throne, and was invested 
 with the triple crown, sparkling with diamonds, and beam- 
 ing with rubies and sapphires. 
 
 After the coronation, the pope ascended to the second story 
 of the portico. The great doors were thrown open below, 
 and every body hastened to the principal front of this venera- 
 ble edifice to see " the vicar of Christ" appear at the bal- 
 cony, and pronounce absolvatory benediction from an ele- 
 vation of fifty feet. 
 
 The moment the pope advances, like a fairy vision, 
 invisibly supported over the heads of attending cardinals, the 
 cannons roar ; they are reverberated from the distant castle ; 
 the great bell of St. John's rings out, and ten thousand voices 
 shout at once, 
 
 Eviva ! Eviva ! 
 
 The pope rises from -his seat. All is instantly still as 
 midnight. The people throw themselves upon their knees, 
 to receive the apostolic benediction. The pope pronounces 
 it, with extended arms, and is again withdrawn, as if by 
 art magic, during a thundering peal of universal accla- 
 mation. 
 
 LETTER XIX. 
 
 A HISTORICAL ACCOUNT OF THE CORRUPTION OF CHRIS- 
 TIANITY, AND THE INTRODUCTION OF THE PAPAL 
 HIERARCHY. 
 
 Rome, if not the birth-place, maybe considered as the 
 nursery of Christianity, in which the doctrine of a crucified 
 lledeemer was declared by the companions of his suffer- 
 
150 
 
 TRAVELS THROUGH 
 
 ings, and the witnesses of his resurrection. Ever}* thing 
 here calls to mind the religion of Jesus. The churches 
 and even the palaces abound with the most correct represen- 
 tations of sacred history ; the self-denial and humility of 
 the monastic orders are palpahle indications of primitive 
 simplicity ; and the life and conversation of the Son of God 
 arc perpetually recalled by a round of imitative ceremonies, 
 which, together with the essential circumstances of his birth 
 and death, renew to the eye the minute transactions of 
 appearing before Pi/ate, or Kasking his disciples' feet. The 
 angel of the church, to use a scripture metaphor, has not yet 
 lost alf his original brightness, 
 
 Nor appears less than arch-an^clruinM, 
 And tii' excess of glory obscur*d.# 
 
 A secret reformation, at least of life and manners, has 
 talcen place even at Rome, since the rise and establishment 
 of the protestant professions; and the important variation 
 has been observed to obtain in catholic countries, in propor- 
 tion as they communicate with the reformed. The Saviour 
 of the world was himself born in a province of the Roman 
 empire, and suffered for our sins without the gates of Jeru- 
 salem, under the authority of Pontius Pilate, the proconsul 
 of Judea, as we learn from the text of Tacitus, as well as the 
 united testimony of the four Evangelists, 
 
 Auctor nominis ejus Christus, qui Tiberio imperitante, per procuratorem 
 Pentium Pilatum supplicio affectus erat.f 
 
 After the dissemination of the gospel, and the settlement 
 of the churches, so eloquently described by St. Luke in his 
 narrative of the acts of the Apostles, in the sixty-fourth 
 year of Christ, the tyrant Nero fomented against the Chris- 
 tians throughout the Roman empire, which then included 
 the greater part of the civilized world, the first general per- 
 secution, in which suffered martyrdom at Rome the holy 
 apostles St. Peter and St. Paul. This affliction terminated 
 with the untimely death of that inhuman monster, and it, 
 was not till the ninety-third year of the Christian &ra, that 
 the second persecution, which also involved the Jews, was 
 
 * Milton. 
 
 f The name (Christians) was derived from Christ, who suffered in the reign 
 
 of Tiberius, under Pontius Pilate, the procurator of Judea. — Tacitus* 
 
 Annal. 15. s. -11. 
 
SWITZERLAND AND ITALY. 
 
 151 
 
 instigated by the jealousy of Domitian, a worthless prince, 
 who was weak enough to dread the rivalry of the house of 
 David, although, as had been foretold by the prophets, it 
 had ceased to sit upon the throne of Israel. It was during 
 this persecution that the apostle John, who had so long sur- 
 vived his lord, was banished to the isle of Patmos, where 
 be wrote the celebrated visions of futurity, so sublimely 
 couched in the mystic verses of the book "of Revelations. 
 The canonical books of the New Testament are supposed 
 to have received the sanction of the church before the death 
 of the beloved discip/c, who departed this life at the venerable 
 age of a hundred, or as some say a hundred and tiventy 
 years. Clemens? then bishop of Rome, who afterward 
 sealed with his blood the testimony of Jesus, was par- 
 ticularly instrumental in the collection of the sacred re- 
 cords. 
 
 Very soon after the removal of the last of the apostles, 
 whose parting admonitions to the church of Ephesus are 
 said to have been little more than a melting effusion of pas- 
 toral anxiety, "little children, love one another," those 
 national councils began to be held in Greece, which by re- 
 ducing the privileges of the people, and augmenting the 
 authority of the priests, gave rise to that overbearing pre- 
 scription, which afterward absorbed the independence of the 
 churches, and made way for the introduction of an an ti- 
 christian hierarchy. 
 
 It appears by Paul's Epistles, and by the revelations of 
 John, that heresies and disputes had troubled the church 
 even in the age of the apostles.* Separate associations were 
 established among the believers, within the first century of 
 Christianity ;«the practice of fasting was early superadded to 
 the precepts of Christ, and it was not long before the church 
 was divided into two sects, who peculiarly adhered to the 
 ceremonies of the law, or the simplicity of the gospel. 
 Both parties however were jealous toward God, and suffered 
 indiscriminately, as confessors of Christ, the persecution of, 
 the heathen magistrates, who had now become jealous for the 
 honour of their discredited divinities. 
 
 In the second century, the splendid a?ra of Trajan, Adrian, 
 and the Antonines (notwithstanding the apologies of Justin 
 Martyr, Athenagoras and Tatian, in defence of their Chris- 
 tian brethren) prevailed with unrelenting rigour the third, 
 fourth and fifth persecutions, during which Ignatius bishop 
 
 * See Galaiians i. q, and iii. 1—3. ami Revelations ii. 1—29. and iii.l— ia 
 
152 
 
 TRAVELS TftROTJOH 
 
 of Antioch was conveyed to Rome and exposed to wild 
 beasts in the public theatre, and Polycarp bishop of Smyrna, 
 was cruelly slain. In the dxiys of Trajan, the philosophic 
 Pliny, being then governor of Pontus and Bithynia, wrote 
 to the emperor, who was celebrated for the general equity of 
 his administration, to know his will as to the rigorous prose- 
 cution of the laws against the Christians. " Because," says the 
 mild proconsul, ** those of them whom I have examined 
 maintained that they hud been guilty of no crime, saying 
 that they used to assemble before day-light to sing hymns 
 to Christ, as unto God j and that " they sometimes came 
 together for the purpose of breaking bread in common ; but 
 that they were bound not to lie, nor steal, nor yet withhold 
 the property of others, but to abstain from all iniquity 
 The emperor's reply bears equal testimony to the innocency 
 of the first Christians: u they need not be sought after/* 
 says he, " but if they are brought before you they must be 
 punished."* [n the reign of Marcus Aurelius occurred the 
 supposed miracle of the Christian legion {for professing 
 Christians had already forgotten the peaceful precepts of 
 him that taught his followers to love their enemits). In the 
 wars of Germany the doubtful event of a battle had been 
 decided in favour of the Romans by a storm which blew 
 directly in the faces of their adversaries, when the zealots 
 of the camp attributed to their urgent prayers a natural 
 effect, which was with equal devotion ascribed by the rest of 
 the army to the signal piety of the heathen emperor ; as the 
 figure of Jupiter Fluvius pouring rain on the fainting 
 Romans, and thunderbolts on their enemies (which may be 
 seen to this day in the bas-reliefs of the pillar of Antoninus) 
 evidently testifies. Yet Christianity appears to have flou- 
 rished in the second century, since churches were then 
 established in the western provinces of the empire, and 
 several philosophers and men of learning had embraced the 
 
 * I subjoin for the satisfaction of the curious, the original of these une- 
 quivocal testimonials. They were written in the 7th year ofTrajau, whick 
 answers to the 105th of the Christian aera. Pliny, the younger, to the emperor 
 Trajan. " Affirnmbaut autem, hanc fuisse suimnnm,' vel culpa; sua;, vcl 
 erroris, quod essent solid stato die ante lucem convenire, carnaenque Christo, 
 quasi Deo, diccre secuin invicem : seque sacrainento non in scelus aliquod 
 obstringere, sed ne furta, ne latrocinia, neadulteria committereut, ue fidcm 
 fullerent, ne depositum appellati abnegarent. Quibus peractis morem sibi 
 discedendi fuisse, rursusque coeundi ud capiendum cihum, promiscuum 
 tamen, et innoxium." Book X. Ep. 97. Trajan to Pliny " Conquirendinon. 
 sunt: si deferautur et arguantur, puniendi sunt." Book X. Ep. 9tf. 
 
SWITZERLAND AND ITALY. 153 
 
 faith of Christ. The sixth persecution took place in the 
 beginning of the third century, under the emperor Severus, 
 although the cause of the Christians was now ably defended 
 by Tertullian, Origen, and Irenseus. 
 
 A sect of ascetics had already begun to spread itself in 
 Egypt, though the professors of austerity did notyet form 
 themselves into those regular communities by which the 
 Christian world was afterward over-run. They introduced 
 the system of voluntary mortifications by denying them- 
 selves the use of wine, of flesh, and even the exercise of the 
 lawful rights of commerce and matrimony. A dereliction 
 of first principles rapid indeed, since forbidding to marry, 
 and commanding to abstain from meats, had been indicated 
 by St. Paul, as a doctrine of devils, which should designate the 
 institutions of the future antichrist. At Rome ceremonious 
 observances were early introduced, under the specious 
 pretence of alluring the Jews, and even the heathens, to the 
 profession of Christianity, by the adoption of some of their 
 rites; and before the end of the second century, the purity 
 of gospel worship had been adulterated with anniversary festi- 
 vals and officiating garments j the payment of tithes had 
 succeeded to the voluntary contributions of the faithful ; and 
 the love feast of the communion was converted into an 'ima- 
 ginary sacrifice. 
 
 Early in the third century churches were established in 
 .transalpine Gaul, and among the forests of Germanv ; but 
 a seventh persecution arose under Maximin ; which was 
 followed by the eighth under Decius, Gallus, and Volusianus- 
 as was that by the ninth, under Valerian. Yet before the 
 tenth and last persecution, under the magnificent Diocletian 
 (who is sa^d to have employed forty thousand Christians in 
 the construction of those baths, whose imperial extent is now 
 occupied by the cells and gardens of a Carthusian convent) 
 tbj Qhtii^fe had become powerful and even splendid. 
 •Ldifices had been erected for public worship, embellished 
 with painting and mosaics; vessels of silver and gold were 
 used in the pompous celebration of the sacraments, and the 
 dignified clergy, among whom the bishops of Rome 
 Antioch, and Alexandria, had obtained the pre-eminencv 
 of their brethren in the sacerdotal office, had appropriated 
 to the episcopal functions the use of canopies and thrones 
 1 he clergy of the adulterated church were not yet however 
 forbidden to marry, although abstinence was already respect- 
 ed as a clerical virtue. r 
 The Diocletian persecution, which had been suggested 
 
 SWITZERLAND.] y 03 
 
154 
 
 TRAVELS THROUGH 
 
 by the priests of polytheism, upon malicious charges of 
 disloyalty and sedition, not improbably provoked by the 
 ostentatious presumption of the christian bishops (among 
 of whom, however, the life of Cyprian bishop of Carthage 
 appears to have adorned the doctrine of the Gospel) began in 
 the year 303, and continued to rage with different degrees 
 of inveteracy, under Galerius Max imin, until in 313, Con- 
 stantine, surnamed the Great, having been invested with the 
 imperial purple by the legions of Britain, overthrew his 
 rival Maxentius upon the banks of the Tyber, under the 
 influence of a pretended vision of the cross, and from 
 motives of policy or conviction embraced the profession 
 of Christianity, which had become in three centuries, 
 under ten persecutions, the prevailing religion of the 
 Roman Empire. 
 
 The imperial conversion was not however promulgated 
 by laws and edicts till the year 324, and it was not until the 
 latter end of his life and reign that the political proselyte 
 thought proper to prohibit heathen sacrifices, and shut 
 the temples of the gods. Nay, Constantine himself did 
 not submit to receive the rite of baptism till a few days 
 before his death, in 337; and his equivocal faith maybe 
 fairly presumed from the absence of the cross in all the 
 statues and bas-reliefs which have yet been discovered 
 of the first christian emperor. Theodosius the elder, the 
 purity of whose belief is demonstrated to indulgent credu- 
 lity by the magnificent edifice he dedicated to St. Paul, 
 which is yet standing in forsaken solitude without the walls 
 of Rome) is the first of his sucessors whose ambiguous piety 
 the church has thought proper to celebrate. Nor was it till 
 the reign of Honorius, and the opening of the fourth cen- 
 tury, that the profession of Christianity, adopted by the 
 emperors, was finally embraced throghout the empire, which 
 tardily relinquished the worship of its idols. 
 
 But the impending corruption of Christianity awaited 
 not its complete induction. Father Antony in Egypt, and 
 in Fiance Martin of Tours formed regular communities, 
 and prescribed fixed rules for that abstinence and seclu- 
 sion which had been already observed by solitary hermits 
 and sequestered virgins, who conceiving that communion 
 with God was to be obtained by withdrawing ihe rmnd 
 from external objects, began their noviciate by mortifying 
 sense and macerating the rebellious body with hunger 
 and fatigue. The provinces of the East were soon filled 
 with these speculative professors, their arid climate pre- 
 
SWITZERLAND AND ITALY. 
 
 155 
 
 disposing them to temperance and contemplation ; but 
 though monastic institutions were peopled in the West 
 with equal ardour and devotion, their indulgent inhabitants 
 were long accused by the eastern visionaries of voracious- 
 ness and gluttony. On the other hand, at the council of 
 Nice, at which appeared ecclesiastical delegates from all 
 the churches in Christendom, the noviciate emperor pre- 
 sided in person, and the innovating bishops, not content 
 with excluding the people from all share in the administra- 
 tion of ecclesiastical affairs, now boldly encroached upon 
 the authority of the presbyters, who appear to have been 
 thenceforward little more than humble ministers to the 
 arrogance and luxury of their lordly superiors. Although 
 Christ himself had said to his immediate follower, "One 
 is your Master, even Christ, and all ye are brethren."* 
 
 Pictures were not yet common in churches, and statues 
 were unknown: but the names of departed saints were al- 
 ready venerated; the antiquated practice of christian per- 
 fection was relinquished, for the vain hope of future puri- 
 fication; and the duties of social life were commuted for 
 idle visits to the tombs of the martyrs, and vagrant pil- 
 grimages to the holy land. Baptismal fonts were now 
 setup in the porch of every church, and bread and wine 
 of the communion began to be held up for the veneration 
 of the people. Yet the ceremony of the Lord's Supper 
 was still only celebrated on the first day of the week, and 
 other festivals; and all the communicants were yet suffered 
 to partake of both the symbols of the flesh and blood of 
 Christ, then and since so grossly mistaken, as referring to 
 the carnal body of Him who himself declared to the worldly 
 minded Jews, " The flesh profiteth nothing. My words 
 they are spirit and they are life".f 
 
 In the fourth century however flourished Eusebius the 
 historian, bishop of Cajsarea ; Augustine bishop of Hippo 
 in Africa; Ambrose, bishop of Milan; and Jerome, the monk 
 of Palestine, to whose labours we are indebted for the 
 Latin translation of the Scriptures, which has been chiefly 
 followed by the pious divines, who have transfused the 
 glad tidings of the Gospel into the languages of modern 
 Europe. 
 
 The fifth century, unhappily for Christianity, together 
 with an indiscriminate reception of proselytes to policy 
 or conviction, adopted without reserve the heathen custom 
 of ornamenting temples with painting and statuary; the 
 
 * Matt, xxiij. 8. f John iv. 63. 
 U 2 
 
156 
 
 TRAVELS THROUGH 
 
 embroidering of sacerdotal garments with gold and silver,, 
 and the institution of novel and ostentatious ceremonies. 
 Pagan ideas were also now imbibed concerning departed 
 souls, heroes, demons, &c. and the absolvatory penance of 
 grievous sinners, originally made in the presence of the 
 congregation was commuted, with courtly indulgence, 
 by Leo the Great, for private confession, in the ear of a 
 listening priest. 
 
 , The second general council, that of Constantinople, 
 which had established the doctrine of the Trinity in the year 
 381, was followed by the council of Ephesus, called toge- 
 ther by Theodosius the younger, not as St. Paul advised the 
 believers to provoke one another to love and good works; but 
 to determine a dispute between Nestorius and Cyril, in 
 which the apostate doctors anathematized each other with 
 mutual animosity, whether the title of mother of God should 
 be conferred upon the Virgin Mary, or only that of mother 
 of Christ. This sage consulta met again ten years later to 
 decide upon the two natures of Christ, when the heretical 
 doctrine of one incarnate nature triumphed among the 
 benighted fathers, and Flavianus, its principal opponent, was 
 by their order ignominiously whipped. 
 
 The fourth council, called the council of Chalcedon, 
 which was summoned by Marcian in 451, annulled the acts 
 of the second session of the council of Ephesus, condemned 
 its president, Dioscorous bishop of Alexandria, to deposition 
 and banishment, and finally established the orthodox doc- 
 trine of two distinct natures, the human and the divine, in 
 the person of Christ. The council of Chalcedon is the last 
 general council whose decisions are respected by the protes- 
 tant communions, for in the sixth century the Roman 
 pontiffs began to assume universal dominion, and finally 
 annihilated the prerogatives of the church. 
 
 In the year 529, the order of Benedictines was instituted 
 on Mount Cassin, by Benedict of Nursia, a man- of unaffect- 
 ed piety, whose rule was neither favourable to luxury nor 
 ambition ; and the new modification of catholic superstition 
 spread with rapidity over all Europe, eventually absorbing 
 all the professions of religious austerity by which it had been 
 preceded. 
 
 The public worship was yet celebrated in the vernacular 
 tongue, though political revolutions had begun to annihi- 
 late the Latin language, which continued to be used in the 
 ritual of the catholic church when it had ceased to be un- 
 derstood by unlettered congregations. The Anglo-Saxon 
 
SWITZERLAND AND ITALY. 
 
 157 
 
 kings were now converted to Christianity by the ministry of 
 Augustine, and the belief of the gospel spread itself with 
 facility from the island of Albion to the neighbouring coasts 
 of Belgium and Batavia. In this century flourished Gildas, a 
 monk of Bangor, the first British writer whose works have 
 descended to posterity. 
 
 A new method of celebrating the last supper was intro- 
 duced about this time by Gregory the Great. The daring 
 pontiff added without scruple punctilious ceremonies to the 
 recommendation of his Master ; who simply blessing the 
 bread, and handing it to his disciples, had directed them to 
 do so in remembrance of his death, until his spiritual 
 appearance, or second coming without sin unto salvution.* In 
 these additions originated the complex canon of the mass, 
 which was not universally adopted, even by the Latin 
 churches, for many ages after the ambitious Gregory, who 
 is represented in,pne of the mosaics of St. Peter's as perform- 
 ing a miracle to confirm his suspected innovation. 
 
 Amid the gloom of the seventh century the emperor 
 Heraclius amused himself with persecuting the Jews, while 
 the impostor, Mahomet, arose in Arabia ; and in the next 
 darkening period the Greek and Latin churches were occu- 
 pied in a bloody quarrel about the worship of images, while 
 the Saracens strengthened themselves in the East, made 
 powerful descents upon the coasts of the Mediterranean, 
 and possessed themselves of the fertile islands of Sicily and 
 Sardinia. 
 
 Every succeeding pope now added some new ceremony to 
 the Romish ritual. The worship of images was at length, 
 systematically ordained; the bones of saints and pieces or 
 the true cross were venerated and enshrined ; and the 
 dreaded punishments of sin were conveniently deprecated 
 by donations " to God and holy Church." The bequests of 
 dying sinners were conditioned^/' the redemption of their 
 souls, and the deprecatory gifts were denominated by the 
 accommodating church " the price of transgressions." 
 
 In the year 751, the popes of Rome sanctioned the depo- 
 sition of Childeric III. king of France, and received in 
 acknowledgment from the usurper, Pepin, the exarchate of 
 Ravenna, which first raised them to the rank of temporal 
 princes, though the authority of the bishops of Rome is 
 fondly derived from the traditionary donation of Constantme. 
 In 774 Charlemagne, son of Pepin, overturned the kingdom 
 
 * See Matth. xxvi. 26—29. Luke xx'ii. 19, 20. and xxiv. 30. and Heb. ix. 28. 
 
153 
 
 TRAVELS THROUGH 
 
 of the Lombards, visited Rome, and enriched the papacy* 
 with new donations, the uncertainty of whose ample clauses 
 did or did not include Corsica, Sicily, and Sardinia, the 
 territory ofSabina, the duchies of Spoleto, of Parma, and 
 Placentia, and the cities of Florence aud Commachio. In 
 acknowledgment of such unparalleled generosity, Poper 
 Leo III. in the year 800, inaugurated Charlemagne emperor 
 of the West. 
 
 For the regular performance of the encreasing ceremonies 
 of the church, the order of canons was about this time insti- 
 tuted, being a grade of priesthood between the regular 
 monks and the secular clergy ; and scholastic divines con- 
 tinued to puzzle believers with metaphysical difficul- 
 ties. 
 
 In the ninth century the idea of transubstantiation, or. 
 the real presence, was superadded to the inventions of Gre- 
 gory ; departed saints were canonized by the popes, and the 
 encroaching pontiffs persuaded priests and people that as they 
 derived their authority from heaven, the bishops could 
 derive theirs from them alone. Yet the election of the pre- 
 tended vicegerent of the prince of peace was now canvassed 
 without the least regard to law, order, or even decency ; 
 and, in this climax of clerical confusion, a woman disguised 
 her sex, and filled about this time, without discovery, the 
 papal chair. 
 
 The more than midnight darkness which prevailed in the 
 tenth century over the apostate church, was heightened to 
 fearful apprehensions that the end of all things was at hand: 
 for so was expounded by the purblind divines the predicted 
 unloosing of Satan, after having been bound for a thousand 
 years*. So strongly was this idea entertained, that temporal 
 business was neglected, and even churches and convents 
 were suffered to go to ruin for want of repairs. In the mean- 
 time, to dispel the tedium of expectation, the festival of 
 departed souls was added to the crowded kalendar; the 
 office of the virgin was instituted by her peculiar votaries, 
 and the vengeance of heaven was vainly deprecated by Jive- 
 Maries, and Pater Nosters, in the endless repetitions of 
 the rosary. The critical period passing by without pro- 
 ducing the dreaded event, the spirits of the people revived, 
 and the Roman pontiffs began to concert measures for driv- 
 ing the Saracens out of Palestine. 
 
 Gregory VII. the most enterprizing prelate that ever 
 cccupied the chair of St. Peter, inflamed to madness by the 
 
 * See Revelations xx. 1, % 3. 
 
 2 
 
SWITZERLAND AND ITALY. 
 
 159 
 
 complaints of the Asiatic Christians of the grievous oppres- 
 sion which they suffered from the infidels, resolved to head 
 an army in person for the delivery of the holy sepulchre, 
 and fifty thousand men were already collected for the pur- 
 pose, when the pontiffs quarrel with the emperor Henry IV. 
 obliged him to relinquish the idea of his favourite expedi- 
 tion. Toward the end of the eleventh century the absurd 
 project was unexpectedly revived by the enthusiasm of an. 
 obscure individual. One Peter, surnamed the hermit, a 
 recluse of Amiens, had visited the holy places in the year 
 JOgo, and suffered in his own person the impositions of the 
 Saracens. On his return to Europe, the rambling visionary, 
 having implored in vain the interference of the pope of 
 Ro me, and the patriarch of Constantinople, boldly sounded 
 the alarm of war in the ears of the temporal princes, who 
 were easily animated, by a pretence of religion, to a war of 
 rapine and revenge. Urged by the spirit of the times Urban 
 now assembled a council at Placentia, and afterward met 
 another at Clermont in Auvergne, wherein the sacred ex- 
 pedition was recommended with the liberal promise of ple- 
 nary indulgence. An innumerable multitude of all ranks 
 and descriptions immediately flocked around the standard of 
 the church. The expedition was called a crusade, because 
 its object was to wrest the cross of Christ cut of the hands of 
 infidels; and every bandit of the gang displayed upon his 
 shoulder the prostituted badge of Christian meekness. Jn 
 the year lOQfj, 800,000 men set out for Constantinople to 
 receive directions from Alexius Comnenius, the Grecian em- 
 peror, before they should pursue their march into Asia. 
 One of the principal divisions of this wandering banditti 
 was headed by Peter himself, with a rope for his girdle, 
 assisted by Walter the Pennyless. In their desultory ad- 
 vances through Hungary and Thrace the motley rabble 
 committed the most flagitious crimes, under the eyes of 
 their sanctimonious leaders, and multitudes of them fell 
 victims to the vengeance which they every where exaspe- 
 rated. After the scum of popular fermentation*' had thus 
 worked itself off, Godfrey of Bouillon, duke of Lorraine, and 
 his brother Baldwyn, led a regular army of 80,000 horse 
 and foot across the heart of Germany ; another formidable 
 body, headed by Raimond count of Thoulouse, made their 
 way through Sclavonia; and Robert duke of Normandy, 
 eldest son of the conqueror of England, Hugh brother to 
 Philip I. of Frauce, and Robert earl of Flanders, embarked 
 their respective forces at Brundisi and Taranto, from 
 
160 
 
 TRAVELS THROUGH 
 
 whence they were transported to Dyrrachuim, whither 
 they were quickly followed by Bcemond duke of Calabria, 
 who was accompanied by his cousin Tanored, the hero of 
 lomance. This formidable levy passed without accident the 
 straits of Gallipolis; stormed Nice, the capital of Bithynia ; 
 subdued Antioch; and finally overran Judea. In the year 
 1099, Godfrey of Bouillon, was saluted king of Jerusalem, 
 and the Christian armies returned to Europe loaded with 
 reliques, and inspired with a taste for the arts and manners 
 of the East. 
 
 It was in the eleventh century that Nicholas II. instituted 
 the college of cardinals, which first consisted of the seven 
 bishops of the Roman state, and the twenty-eight presbyters 
 of the parish churches of Rome. To these were afterward 
 added the prior of St. John de Lateran, St. Peter, and 
 Santa Maria Maggiore, the abbots of St. Paul and St. 
 Lawrence, and finally as many other clerical personages as 
 the popes inclined to favour, to the canonical number of 
 seventy, which has never been exceeded. The celibacy of 
 the clergy had been enforced by Gregory VII. in a council 
 held at Rome in 1074, and the hardy pontiff proceeded to 
 anathematize whosoever should receive the investiture 
 of a bishopric or an abbacy from the hands of a lay- 
 man. 
 
 In the meantime the Greeks accused the Latins that they 
 impiously made use of unleavened bread, in the celebration 
 of the supper ; that the monks of their communion scrupled 
 not to eat lard ; thatthe priests of the altar had the indecency 
 to shave their chins, and that in the rite of baptism the 
 western church used but one immersion, instead of 
 three ! 
 
 LETTER XX. 
 
 THE RISE ANT) PROGRESS OF THE REFORMATION, FROM 
 ITS EARLIEST DAWN1NGS IN THE VALLIES OF flED- 
 MONT. 
 
 ' Who is this, that cometh up from the wilderness, 
 leaning upon her beloved ?"* Is it not the true church ? 
 the spouse of Christ, made up of vital Christians, not only 
 
 * Canticles viii. 
 
SWITZERLAND AND ITALY. 
 
 161 
 
 of all denominations possessing the religion of Jesus; but 
 of them that zcork righteousness every nation, kindred, tongue 
 and peopk.* The great multitude that John saw stand- 
 ing before the Throne of God, which was to be added unto 
 the hundred and forty and four thousand that had been 
 sealed among the tribes of Israel.f 
 
 Evangelic purity of faith and worship may be traced 
 from the remotest ages, among the humble inhabitants of 
 the val lies of Piedmont, who were long afterward denomi* 
 nated Waldenses, from the pious merchant of Lyons, who 
 attached himself to their communion in the latter end of 
 the twelfth century. 
 
 As early as the year 823, Claudius bishop of Turin, con- 
 temning relics and censuring pilgrimages, had ordei'ed 
 all images, and even crosses, to be removed from the 
 churches of his diocese; and in the last year of the tenth 
 century Leutard, a priest of Chalons, among whose scattered 
 disciples is supposed to have originated the sect of refor- 
 mers, known in France by the name of Albigenses, de- 
 cried the worship of images, and the exaction of tythes. In 
 1004, Leutheric, archbishop of Sens, maintained that none 
 but saints and true believers received the body of Christ 
 in the sacrament; a doctrine which though he weakly 
 abjured on being summoned to Rome, he afterwards again 
 professed, and supported the same till his death, being 
 confirmed therein by many adherents. In 1045 Berenger 
 of Tours, afterwards archbishop of Angers, a man of great 
 learning and exemplary sanctity, publicly taught that the 
 bread and wine were not changed, in the eucharist, into 
 the body and blood of Christ, but that they still preserved 
 their natural qualities, and were nothing more than figures 
 of the elementary substances, which were to be spiritually 
 received. In the latter part of his life, Berenger retired 
 from persecution to the isle of St. Cosme, near Tours, 
 where the canons of that antient cathedral continued to 
 honour his memory, until the late revolution, by an annual 
 procession around his tomb. 
 
 In the year 1017, there had been an assembly of these 
 pious christians at Orleans, the leading members of which 
 were twelve canons of the cathedral. They placed the 
 sum of religion in the internal contemplation of God, and 
 the elevation of the soul to celestial objects, rejecting all 
 external rites and ceremonies., and laying aside even th$ 
 
 * Acts x. 35. f Revelations vn. 4—9, 
 
 SWITZERLAND.] X 
 ft 
 
TRAVELS THROUGH 
 
 sacraments of the church, as destitute of any spiritual 
 efficacy. Their public profession of such unpopular doc- 
 trines was expiated in the flames of persecution; and an- 
 other congregation of devout men at Arras, whose principles 
 struck still more deeply at the root of the corrupt tree 
 which then overshadowed ihe christian world, was induced 
 to recant and abjure. For the sons of the morn ing, who 
 worshipped the Father in spirit, after the night of apostacy 
 ( foreseen by the apostle) in which the Man of Sin should be 
 revealed*, like the professors of divine truth in every age, 
 " of whom the world is not worthy, underwent cruel mock- 
 ings and scourgings, bonds and imprisonment. They 
 were stoned, they were sawn asunder, were tempted, were 
 slain with the sword. They wandered about in sheep-skins 
 and goat-skins, being destitute, afflicted, tormented, in 
 deserts and in mountains, in dens and caves of the earthf." 
 
 They trod to glory "the path which no fowl knoweth, 
 and which the vulture's eye hath not seen, which the lion's 
 whelps have not trodden, neither hath the fierce lion 
 passed by it|". Whilst poets and historians have strewed 
 the graves of heroes and philosophers with the unfading 
 flowers of eloquence and song, the confessors of Jesus, 
 who, like their Master, devoted themselves to the glory 
 of God, have perished in dungeons and in flames, without 
 Other memorial than the narrative of their sufferings, 
 preserved in homely phrase by their zealous contempo- 
 raries, to be ungratefully forgotten by us, who reap in 
 peace the harvest of their blood. " The tongue of the 
 Teamed and the pen of the ready writer" have been em- 
 ployed, if employed at all, in telling the sad story of the 
 martyrs of truth, to cast a shade of doubt or disparagement 
 over the heroic constancy of " those who loved not their 
 lives unto death, that they might preserve a conscience 
 void of offence toward God It matters not: " their 
 names are written in the book of life". The palm of mar- 
 tyrdom is a plant that blooms for ever in the Paradise of 
 
 * 2 Thessalonians ii. 3. | Hebrews xi. 36, 7 and 8. 
 
 J Job xxviii. 7. 
 
 § See the 3d, 4th and 7th chapters of the philosophic Hume, in his his- 
 tory of the House of Tudor; and more particularly the lath and 16th 
 chapters of the eloquent and sceptical Gibbon. The two historians may 
 be pardoned for their unbelief; but I hold them inexcusable for so 
 lightly estimating those practical reformers, without whose courageous 
 intervention they might have been occupied in prostrating themselves 
 before the girdle of the Virgin, or the rood of grace, instead of describ- 
 ing at their ease the sufferings which procured their emancipation from 
 spiritual bondage. 
 
SWITZERLAND AND ITALY. 
 
 163 
 
 God. What though they lived unknown, and died in ig- 
 nominy, when "the heavens shall be rolled up as a scroll, 
 and the elements shall melt with fervent heat," then will 
 their relenting persecutors confess, " we fools counted their 
 life madness, and their latter end to be without honour: 
 but now, how are they counted among the just, and their 
 portion is with the saints*. 
 
 Although the confessors of Arras, were not ready to 
 " contend for the faith delivered to the Saints", or to seal 
 the revelation with their blood, they had not been awed 
 into silence before they had widely disseminated their chris- 
 tian principles. These pious men men denied " the in- 
 herent sanctity of churches and altars, refused to adore 
 images and crosses, disapproved of the use of oil and in- 
 cense, bells, funeral rites, instrumental music, &.c." They 
 considered " voluntary penance as unprofitable," denied 
 " the doctrine of purgatory", and declared that "the 
 guilt of sin could not be expiated by the celebration of 
 masses for the dead, or the distribution of alms among the 
 poor." They were particularly shocked " at the distinc- 
 tions established among the clergy", and maintained that 
 " the appointment of stated ministers was unnecessary in 
 the congregations of the faithful." Like their brethren 
 of Orleans they rejected " baptism, especially the baptism 
 of infants, and "the sacrament of the Lord's Supper, as 
 not being essential to salvation ; and like them they were 
 accused " by their enemies" of the secret commission of 
 unnatural crimes, with what probability it is now easy to 
 judge from the harmless tenor of their acknowledged 
 doctrines. 
 
 Amid the darkness of the middle ages, which involved 
 alike the Eastern and the Western churches, the Greek 
 emperors had banished the scanty remnant of the Mani- 
 chaeans or Paulicians, as they were sometimes called (per- 
 haps from their adherence to the great apostle of the Gen- 
 tiles) a sect of the primitive church, which yet remained 
 in Palestine and Bithynia, into Bulgaria and Thrace, from 
 whence some of them had about this time found their way 
 into Lombardy, and were exploring France and Germany 
 to find a refuge from the unrelaxing persecutions which 
 pursued their wandering footsteps. But large bodies of 
 these traditionary primitives fell into the train of the Gallic 
 armies, which returned from Palestine by the proviooe ©f 
 
 * Book of Wisdom, v. 4> 
 x 2 
 
164 
 
 TRAVELS THROUGH 
 
 Bulgaria, and settled themselves 'in the south of France> 
 where they readily coalesced with the sincere professors 
 who had separated themselves from the corrupt establish- 
 ment. Numerous congregations of their posterity remain 
 in Languedoc to this day, notwithstanding perpetual persecution, 
 never relieved but by the edict of Nantz, until the last of the 
 Lewis's (one of the mildest princes that ever filled a throne) 
 suspended in their favour the operation of the penal laws. 
 
 In Italy, the devout Separatists, who now began to be nu- 
 merous, were called Cathari, or Purists, for in every age con- 
 temptuous appellations have been bestowed upon the humble 
 followers of Jesus (who was himself despised of the Jews.) In 
 the vallies of Piedmont they were called Waldenses ; in Ger- 
 many, Beghards; in England, Lollards; and in France they 
 were calumniously designated by a name of reproach too infamous 
 to be repeated, 
 
 The Waldenses were so called after Peter Waldus, a merchant 
 or manufacturer of Lyons, who, about the year 1160, employed 
 a poor priest to translate the four Gospels into French ; and 
 perusing them with attention, perceived that the religion then 
 taught in the church was essentially different from that which was 
 originally inculcated by Christ and his apostles. Impressed with 
 the self-denying precepts of the Gospel, he abandoned his call- 
 ing, distributed his goods among the poor, and in 1180 began 
 to preach (without clerical ordination) the doctrine of Jesus. 
 His followers soon became numerous among the simple-hearted 
 believers in France and Lombardy. They denied the supremacy 
 of the Roman pontiff, whom they were rather inclined to con- 
 sider as the Whore of Babylon, than the Head of the Church. 
 Professing no new doctrines, these sober reformers aimed at 
 nothing more than reducing the form of church government, and 
 the lives and manners of both priests and people, to the original 
 simplicity of the apostolic age, when the ministers of the Gospel 
 maintained themselves by the labour of their own hands.* The 
 sermon of Christ on the Mount was their rule of life and man- 
 ners, the precepts of which they accepted literally, and of conse- 
 quence condemned the acquisition of riches, and forbade self" 
 defence, the taking of oaths,f &c. 
 
 W hile the true Christian doctrine was thus gaining ground in 
 unnoticed obscurity, a second crusade was undertaken by Lewis 
 VII. of France, and Conrad III. emperor of Germany ; but the 
 united forces of these two powerful monarchs, melting away by 
 (famine, shipwreck, and the sword, were at length entirely dissi- 
 
 *i. See Acts xx. S*. 
 
 t Matlh. v. 34. and 39, and xxxvi. 19. 
 
SWITZERLAND AND ITALY. \QS 
 
 pated by intestine divisions, and the perfidy of the Greeks ; who- 
 had learned to dread the alliance of the Western Christians more 
 than the hostility of their Mahometan invaders. Yet such was 
 the blind enthusiasm of the age, that when Saladin, sultan of E*ypt 
 and byria, m a pitched battle fought near the sea of Tibenas, 
 took prisoner Guy de Lusignan, king of Jerusalem, at the insti- 
 gation of Bernard, abbot of Clairval, who boldly prophecied 
 success to the avengers of the Christian cause, the Roman Pon- 
 tiff, m 1189, proclaimed a third expedition to the Holu Land. 
 flushed with the confidence of victory, Frederick Barbarossa, 
 one of the nominal successors of the emperors of the West, 
 marched into the Lesser Asia, where he defeated the sultan of 
 lcomum, and penetrated in triumph to the borders of the pro- 
 mised land : But the hardy German, in traversing the river Sa- 
 leph, sunk into a watery grave, and a pestilence interred his 
 army in the neighbouring plains. A scanty remnant of the Chris- 
 tian host returned to tell the tale. The next year Philip Au- 
 gustus, king of France, and Richard, surnamed Coeur de Lion, 
 king of England, set sail from the seaports of their maritime 
 dominions, with an innumerable fleet of ships and transports. 
 1 heir united forces reduced Ptolemais, now St. John d'Acre 
 ™°"S h th . e P Iace wa * strenuously defended bv the Saracens : but 
 Philip, disgusted with fatigue or danger, returned in doubtful 
 haste to sway the sceptre of the fairest realm in Europe : and 
 the dauntless Richard, after defeating Saladin in several engage- 
 ments, gladly embraced the proposal of a truce, under cover°of 
 which the Holy Land was evacuated by the Western Christians 
 m 1192. Richard, on his return through Germany, pe »sivless 
 and forlorn (I remember from my childhood the romantic storv 
 m some quaint historian of the Holie War re) was thrown into "a 
 dungeon by the command of the emperor, and the royal vaga- 
 bond, who had defended Palestine against the Turks, was fain to 
 redeem his person, by an ample ransom, from the unfriendly gripe 
 or a Christian brother. In 1248, notwithstanding, Lewis IX. since 
 called St. Lewis, on account of this holy expedition, set sail for 
 \be coast of Egypt with a well-appointed army. At the siege of Da- 
 mietta his brother, the Count d'Artois was slain, and the king 
 himself was afterward made, prisoner by the victorious Saracens 
 Yet m 1270, the devoted victim to superstitious phrenzy, unin- 
 slructed by the lessons of experience, again descended upon the 
 coast of Africa, and perished with the flower of his nobility by 
 a wasting pestilence. Thus terminated the latest of those anti- 
 chnstian expeditions, by which, for two centuries, all Europe 
 was kept in arms to disturb the peace of Asia, under the pretence 
 
165 
 
 TRAVELS THROUGH 
 
 of religious obligation to rescue the holy sepulchre from the hands 
 of infidels. 
 
 These holy, or unholy wars, gave rise to the three military 
 orders of the catholic church, knights of St. John of Jerusalem, 
 (since established at Malta) knights templars, (afterward so arbi- 
 trarily abolished) and Teutonic knights, an institution that still 
 forms a part of the singular constitution of the German empire. 
 
 In the year 1233 Dominic de Guzman, canon of Osma, had 
 been commissioned by the reigning pope to extirpate with fire 
 and sword, the heretics of Thoulouse, and in the bloody institu- 
 tions of this antiehristian priest, originated the unholy office of the 
 Inquisition, whose cruel process still disgraces the catholic king- 
 doms of Portugal and Spain. About the same time Francis de 
 Assisi appeared in Umbria, and the variegated tribes of Western 
 Asiatics soon ranged themselves under the streaming banners of 
 these two popular leaders. But the flame of superstition now 
 blazed with a degree of fury that alarmed the tranquillity of the 
 sovereign pontiffs themselves, for about the middle of the thir- 
 teenth century there arose in Italy a sect of disciplinarians, so ex- 
 travagant in their ideas of voluntary penance, that the pope was 
 fain to check the ebullitions of their zeal by preventing the fiery 
 zealots from lacerating with thongs their naked bodies in fanatical 
 processions from town to town. 
 
 Upon the demise of Nicholas IV. in 1292, a vacancy of three 
 ""years interrupted the unbroken succession of the papal see; and 
 in the year 1300 Bonifice VIII. a bold and enterprising prelate, 
 who had assumed the triple crown, and fortified the castle of St. 
 Angelo, proceeded to palm upon the Christian church a motly 
 imitation of the Roman secular games, and the israelitish jubilee. 
 Boniface affected, with unblushing front, to trace his institution 
 from the usage of the primitive church, and proclaimed a year 
 of plenary remission for all those who should confess their sins, 
 and visit with contrite hearts, the metropolitan churches of St. 
 Peter and St. Paul*. This glaring innovation was soon fol- 
 lowed by the festival of the holy sacrament, or Corpus Chrisii, 
 in honour of the supposed transubstantiation of the bread and 
 wine of the Last Supper into the body and blood of Jesus. 
 
 In the year 1305 Bertrand de Got, archbishop of Bourdeaux, 
 being elevated to the papacy, and assuming the name of Cle- 
 ment V, the patriotic prelate could not be persuaded to quit hi* 
 
 * In the year 1600? the jubilee year of Clement VIII. it was omputed 
 that five hundred thousand pilgrims visited Rome, fov tbebeBC&t of absolu- 
 tion, qr the indulgence of curiosity. 
 
SWITZERLAND AND ITALY. 
 
 167 
 
 native country, and established his see in the delightful climate 
 of Avignon, upon the banks of the Rhone. On the decease of 
 Clement in 1314 there was another interval of two years in the 
 perpetual succession, when he was succeeded in turn by John 
 XXU. Benedict X LI. Clement VI. Innocent VI. Urban V. 
 and Gregory XI. who returned to the eternal city in 1376, to 
 the unbounded joy of the people of Rome, who compared the 
 seventy years defection of the sovereign pontiffs to the carrying 
 away into Babylon. 
 
 Upon the decease of Gregory a schism took place in the sacred 
 college, that embroiled the unity of the church with a double 
 election, under which Urban VI. remained at Rome, and Cle- 
 ment VII. repaired to Avignon, where his doubtful cause was 
 espoused by the kings of France and Spain, of Scotland, Sicily, 
 and Cyprus. During fifty years from the period of this equi- 
 vocal partition of papal infallibility ', the divided body of the 
 universal church, continued to own or to disclaim two, and some- 
 times three, different heads, which fulminated against each other 
 inveterate but powerless excommunications, until the council of* 
 Constance, assembled in 1414 by John XXII I. at the instiga- 
 tion of the Emperor Sigismund, declared that the Roman pontiff 
 was himself subject to the decrees of a general council. The 
 assembled fathers soon afterward proceeded to depose the very 
 pope by whom they had been constituted. Gregory XII. sent 
 jn a voluntary resignation of his claim to the pontificate, and in 
 1417 Benedict XIII. the only remaining pretender to the tripla 
 crown, was solemnly degraded, and Otto de Colonna was pro- 
 claimed sole head of the church, under the name of Martin V. 
 who united to his disputable pretensions the preponderance of 
 one of those powerful families which had long divided the Aris- 
 tocracy of Rome. Yet the superannuated Benedict persisted till 
 his death in 1423, in assuming the title and the prerogatives of 
 the papacy ; nay, when the forsaken pontiff drew his last] breath 
 in the arms of two solitary cardinals, who had devoted them- 
 selves to his desperate fortunes, one of the persevering prelates 
 elected the other to fill again the vacant chair. He assumed with- 
 out hesitation the name of Clement VIII. but was easily persuaded 
 to resign his pretensions to the ascendancy of Martin, thus termi- 
 nating the ambiguous schism which had, for half a century, di- 
 vided the church, and scandalized the believers. 
 
 At the council of Constance was first ordained the growing 
 practice of administering the eucharist to the laity in one kind 
 only, reserving the wine for the clergy alone ; thus separating the 
 supposed body from the blood, which in the figure of the Last 
 Supper were expressly joined together, by Christ himself : " Hie 
 
TRAVELS THROUGH 
 
 that eateth my flesh, and drinketh my blood, dwelleth in me, and 
 I in him *." 
 
 The hardy innovators did not dissolve the council before they 
 had condemned to the flames John Huss, and Jerome of Prague, 
 for having inveighed against the corruptions of the clergy. But 
 these reformers had kindled a flame in Bohemia, which was 
 not to he quenched at Constance, and a hundred years later, 
 the followers of Huss saluted Martin Luther as their second 
 hope. 
 
 In the mean time John Wickliffe, rector of Lutterworth, in 
 Leicestershire, had ventured to defend the privileges of the uni- 
 versity of Oxford against the pretensions of the friars mendicant ; 
 to censure the encroachments of the Pope upon the liberties of 
 the church of England ; and about the year 1370 to translate the 
 Scriptures into English. 
 
 The opinions of this illustrious reformer were condemned in 
 full consistory by Gregory XL for Wickliffe, though he was 
 himself a priest, was for rejecting " all human rites and tradi- 
 tions," and reducing " church government to the apostolic order 
 of bishops and deacons declaring that " the baptism of water 
 profiteth not, without the baptism of the spirit f and that " in 
 the days of Paul, a priest and a bishop was one and the same 
 thing." He died peaceably, however, at Lutterworth, in 1387, 
 though the bones of the prophet were dug up and publicly burned, 
 when his increasing followers became the objects of relentless 
 persecution, under the name of Lollards, in the boasted reign of 
 Henry V. Wickliffe is the first Englishman that is mentioned in 
 history as espousing the cause of reformation, although it may be 
 fairly presumed to have already gained considerable strength, 
 since he was openly protected by the famous Duke of Lancaster, 
 called John of Gaunt. 
 
 In the twelfth century, the doctors of the church had been 
 divided by the frivolous question of the immaculate conception, 
 not of the infant Jesus, but of the Virgin Mart/; in the fourteenth 
 arose scholastic disputations upon the learned errors of Duns 
 Scotus, and Thomas Aquinas ; and the partizans of St. Francis and 
 St. Dominic contended about the passive or positive poverty of 
 Christ. In the year 139,2 it was gravely propounded to the di- 
 vines of Paris, by the infallible expositor himself, " whether or 
 not those were to be deemed heretics, who maintained that 
 Jesus Christ, and his apostles, had neither common nor personal 
 property in any thing that they possessed ;" and the cordeliers 
 entered the lists with a dogmatic proposition, " whether the 
 
 * John vi, 56, 
 
SWITZERLAND AND ITALY. ifig 
 
 "blood pf few was separated from his body, while he 
 lay in the grave." But no wonder the various sects of the 
 catholic church differed with each other, since the que- 
 rulous celibatists frequently disagreed between themselves. 
 Among the Franciscans in particular some were for " rigor- 
 ous discipline/' others for "more gentle chastisement of 
 the flesh." Some were for " laying up winter stores," others 
 for " trusting to providence, for occasional supplies." Some 
 were for " wearing their garments long," others were for 
 "cutting them short." In these momentous contests the 
 sturdy disputants alternately ejected each other from 
 the brawling refectory, till the most obstinate zealots for 
 unconditional poverty were « convinced" of the lawfulness 
 of making provision for the future, by the ff unanswerable" 
 arguments of fire and faggot. Yet the turbulent .Fran- 
 ciscans united in maintaining that the founder of their order 
 was nothing less than "a second Christ," and that "their" 
 rule of discipline was « the true economy of Jesus." In 
 the year 1383, a book was published under the patronage 
 ot the society, entitled "The Conformities of St. Francis, 
 with Jesus Christ ;" and in the convent of Santa Croce at 
 Florence may be seen to this day, a series of paintings drawn 
 by Lnotto, m the infancy of the art, one half of which re- 
 present the life of Jesus, and the other that of Francis de 
 Agsisi. 
 
 About this time the Greeks apprehending themselves 
 likely to stand in need of the assistance of the Latins, against 
 the increasing ascendancy of the Turks in Asia, affected a 
 willingness to submit their creed to the canons of the catho- 
 lic church In the year J 369, John Palasologus, the de- 
 clining shadow of the emperors of the East, paid- a visit of 
 obeisance to the Roman pontiff, and subscribed a confes- 
 sion of faith dictated to him by Urban V. But the Greek 
 priests could never be brought to submit to the political 
 confession of their prince, and the union of the Greek and 
 L,atin churches could not be effected, though one of the 
 principal points in dispute was "whether souls in purgatory 
 are purified by mental anguish, or material fire." The 
 Latins accordingly looked on . with indifference while the 
 Mahometans encroached upon the fainting Greeks, and in 
 the year 1453, Mahomet II. took Constantinople by assault, 
 and finally extinguished the empire of the East. 
 xaH hn X nme y™ YS after that important event, in the vear 
 1492, Christopher Columbus discovered a new world in 
 the West, by the settlement of which with European colonists 
 
 SWITZERLAND.] y r 
 
170 fttAVEIS THROUGH 
 
 the papal empire has since obtained a greater accession of 
 power and wealth, than could have resulted from the flatter- 
 ing conversion of the Greeks. 
 
 The rulers of the church now spent their days in luxurious 
 indolence, and in the open practice of all kinds of vice, to 
 the utter scandal of the temporal princes of Christendom, in 
 compliance with whose solicitations for the reformation of 
 the church, Martin V. had summoned the council of Basil ; 
 but the pontiff died as the prelates were assembling, and left 
 the Synod to be opened by the proxy of his successor, 
 EugeniusIV. in the year 1431. The points proposed for 
 deliberation in this grave assembly were the union ot the 
 Greek and Latin churches, and the reformation of the 
 Church universal, in its head, and in its members, according^ 
 to a resolution of the council of Constance. The council ot 
 Basil, after the critical example which had been set by their 
 predecessors, deposed Eugenius in the year 1439* and 
 elected in his room Amadeus duke of Savoy, who took the 
 name of Felix V. But Eugenius maintained his authority 
 under the sanction of the "council of Florence until the 
 fathers of Basil separated in 1443, declaring themselves not 
 dissolved, but capable of meeting again whenever they 
 should think fit. Eugenius dying in 1447, was succeeded 
 by Nicholas V. a man of genius and erudition, and a patron 
 of learning and the arts. In his time were laid the new 
 foundations of St. Peter's, and the art of printing was intro- 
 duced at Rome, which after having been invented by 
 Costar of Haerlem, about the year 1440, had been perfected 
 at Mayence, and applied bv Faust and Schoffer to the ines- 
 timable purpose of disseminating ad infinitum the productions 
 of genius. Two years after the accession of Nicholas 
 Felix resigned his pretensions, and retired to a hermitage 
 at Ripaille on the borders of the Leman Lake. In 1455, 
 Nicholas himself is said to have died of grief for the taking 
 .of Constantinople. . . 
 
 In the year 14Q2, succeeded to the papal chair Koderic 
 Borgia, otherwise" Alexander VI. a man destitute ofpnnj 
 ciple and regardless of decency. This shameless pope had 
 four sons by one of his concubines, among whom was the 
 infamous Csesar Borgia. His profligate career was termi- 
 nated in 1502 by a dose of poisun, which he, or hid graceless 
 son, had mingled for others who stood in the way of their 
 avarice or ambition. 
 
 The principal places in the public schools were now oc- 
 cupied by bigoted monks, who loaded the .memories of 
 
SWITZERLAND AND ITALY, 
 
 171 
 
 their pupils with barbarous terms, senseless distinctions, and 
 scholastic precepts ; and the public exercises were perplexed 
 with disputes between Scotists and Thomists, Realists and 
 Nominalists, Positivi and Sententiarii. So rare was real 
 learning that when Luther appeared in the next century 
 there could not be found, even in the university of Paris, 
 a single doctor competent to examine, much less to oppose, 
 his tenets by the text of scripture. The few priests who were 
 now at all qualified to teach the people strove rather to 
 amuse than to instruct, with wretched quibbles, tedious 
 narratives of fictitious miracles, and idle declamations upon 
 the merits of the saints, the glory of the Virgin, and the 
 torments of purgatory. Nay the ethics of Aristotle had well 
 nigh supplanted the precepts of Christ. The richer monks, 
 particularly those of the Augustine and Benedictine orders, 
 perverting their revenues to the gratification of their lusts, 
 drew upon themselves popular odium by their sensuality and 
 licentiousness. The Mendicant orders, especially the 
 Dominicans and Franciscans, amused themselves with 
 quarrelling over intricate or superstitious questions, only 
 agreeing that m the vow of poverty was the true Christian life. 
 Yet, amid the gloom of a German Cloister, Thomas & 
 Kempis was visited with that radiation of gospel light from 
 which emanated his spiritual treatise, « On the Imitation of 
 Jesus Christ," a work comparable to " Pilgrim's Progress,'* 
 the impressive allegory, which afterward issued from an 
 English prison, under the similitude of a dream. 
 
 In the beginning of the sixteenth century, the Roman 
 pontiffs slumbered in unsuspecting security, the commo- 
 tions which had been excited in preceding ages, by the 
 persecution of the Waldenses, Albigenses, and Beghards ; 
 and latterly, by that of the Lollards and Bohemian bre- 
 thren, having been temporarily suppressed. But several 
 princes and free states now began to exclaim against the 
 despotic sway of the ghostly fathers, their fraud, avarice, 
 and injustice ; the arrogance, tyranny, and extortion of 
 their legates ; and the unbridled licentiousness of the monks, 
 loudly demanding a general council for the reformation of 
 the church. The gloomy empire of superstition was also 
 now undermined by the restoration of learning. Erasmus, 
 and other learned men, pointed their attacks particularly 
 against the bigotry and ignorance of the clergy ; but none 
 of these had yet the boldness to call in question the deeply- 
 rooted opinion that Christ had himself established a vice- 
 gerent at Rome, invested with his ozvn supreme and unlimited 
 
 y 2 
 
172 
 
 TRAVELS THROUGH 
 
 authority. The popes therefore continued to lull themselves 
 in the lap of ease, and gratify without restraint the bent of 
 their lusts, which may be traced to conviction among the 
 master-pieces of the imitative arts, which still adorn the 
 lodges of Raphael, the chambers of the Vatican, and even 
 the altar-piece of the Papal Chapel. 
 
 The monster, Alexander, had been succeeded in 1503, 
 by Pius III. who survived his elevation no more than a 
 month, when his decease made way for the election of the 
 despotic Julian de la Rovere, who assumed the denomina- 
 tion of Julius II. and whose reign of ten years was one con^ 
 tinued scene of military tumult. In the year 1511, under 
 the patronage of Maximilian I. and Lewis XII. several 
 cardinals assembled a council at Pisa, with the intention of 
 setting bounds to the tyranny of this furious pontiff. Its 
 proceedings were anathematised at Rome. But the days of 
 Julius were numbered, and he was succeeded in 1513 by the 
 celebrated Leo X. of the house of Medices, a man equally 
 indifferent to the principles of religion. The time of this 
 famous pontiff, respectable in the history of the arts, was 
 divided between the pursuits of pleasure, and the conver- 
 sation of men of letters. He was prodigal, luxurious, and 
 jmpruderit, and he has been charged with the singular 
 crimes of impiety, and even atheism. 
 
 Among the many contrivances which had long been em- 
 ployed by the popes, to draw into their coffers the wealth 
 of Christendom, was the sale of indulgences, which not 
 only procured the remission of the temporal pains and; penal-* 
 ties which the church had annexed to certain transgress 
 sions ; but even pretended to abolish the punishnetits appre- 
 hended in a future state, by the workers of iniquity. In the 
 year 1517, Leo, having incurred enormous ex.pences in 
 prosecuting the building of St. Peter's church, thought 
 proper to replenish the exhausted treasury, by causing a 
 plenary indulgence for all offences past, present, and to 
 come, to be proclaimed throughout Christendom, for the 
 exclusive benefit of such as were able and willing to exr 
 change the temporal pound for the spiritual penny. When 
 this sweeping edict was promulgated at Wittemberg, in 
 Saxony, Martin Luther, an Augustine Friar, (and at the 
 same time professor of divinity, in an academy instituted at 
 that place, by the elector Frederick), publicly censured the 
 extortions of the questors, and even ventured to implicate 
 the motives of the sovereign pontiff himself, in suffering 
 the people to be seduced by such delusipnsj from placmg 
 
SWITZERLAND AND ITALY. 
 
 173 
 
 their trust and confidence in Christ. The sentiments of 
 Luther were received with approbation, by the greatest 
 part of Germany, which had long groaned under the impo- 
 sitions of the pontiffs, and the contrivances of their collec- 
 tors, to empty the pockets of the rich, and to grind the 
 faces of the poor. Yet the bold reformer, who had been 
 summoned to answer for his conduct at Rome, by the 
 jealous Dominicans, to whom the negociation of the indul- 
 gences had been entrusted by the pope, defended himself 
 in writing, and professed intentional submission, if con- 
 victed of error. 
 
 At first, the imperial pontiff beheld this obscure contro- 
 versy with indifference, or contempt ; but on being informed 
 by the Emperor Maximilian, of the serious divisions it was 
 likely to produce in Germany, he summoned Luther to ap- 
 pear before him at Rome: but the Papal summons was su- 
 perseded by the elector, his sovereign, who insisted that the 
 cause belonged to the jurisdiction of a German tribunal, 
 and ought to be decided by the ecclesiastical laws of the 
 empire. The pontiff reluctantly yielded to the remon- 
 strances of the prince, and Luther was ordered to answer 
 for his heretical opinions, before Cardinal Cajetan, who 
 was then legate at the diet of Augsburg. Unfortunately for 
 the interests of the Papacy, the legate was himself a Domi- 
 nican; and consequently little disposed to adopt conciliatory 
 measures with the innovator, that struck directly at the ira* 
 munities of his order. The imperious legate, "and the un- 
 daunted reformer, had three conferences at Augsburg, 
 which terminated as might have been foretold, without the 
 gift of prophecy, in passion on one side, and contumacy on 
 the other. Luther yet referred his cause to the ultimate 
 decisions of the Roman pontiff ; but he retracted the sub- 
 mission, and appealed to the future decisions of a general 
 council, upon the pope's issuing a special edict, which 
 commanded his spiritual subjects to acknowledge his power 
 of delivering from all the punishments due to sin and trans- 
 gression. 
 
 Philip Melancthon, then professor of Greek at Wittem- 
 berg,. whose natural mildness of temper, and elegant taste 
 for polite literature, inclined him to moderation and quie- 
 tude, laboured in vain to reconcile the contending parties, 
 and bring about a reformation in the church, if possible, 
 without a schism. Yet before the defection of Luther, 
 tJlrie Jiuinglius, a canon of Zurich, in Switzerland, of ex- 
 tensive learning, uncommon sagacity, and heroic courage, 
 
m 
 
 TRAVELS THROUGH 
 
 offended from his earliest years with the superstitious prac- 
 tices of the church, in which he was educated, had begun 
 to explain the Scriptures to the people, to censure the mis- 
 conduct of the clergy, and to pronounce the necessity of a 
 reform. Encouraged by the example and the success of 
 Luther, he openly opposed the ministry of an Italian monk, 
 ■who was carrying on in Switzerland the impious traffic of 
 indulgences, and the pope's supremacy was eventually 
 rejected in the principal cantons of the confederated re- 
 publics. ' 
 
 In the year 1520, Leo formally condemned forty-one pre- 
 tended heresies, and in 1521 he proceeded to extremities, 
 "by excommunicating Luther, who now, in conjunction 
 With Melancthon, threw off all pretensions of allegiance to 
 the Papal see. 
 
 In the mean time, Charles V. of Spain, the history of 
 tvliose age lias been elucidated by the pen of Robertson* 
 succeeded to the empire of Germany, on the demise of his 
 grandfather, Maximilian ; and the new emperor, who prided 
 himself on being a faithful son of the church, at the insti- 
 gation of Leo, summoned a diet at Worms, for the trial and 
 punishment of the contumacious heretic. The reformer was 
 now however powerfully defended by the elector, his 
 sovereign, who could claim some indulgence from the new 
 emperor, as having been the principal means of preventing 
 the rival pretensions of Francis I. to the imperial throne. 
 Vet at this diet Luther was declared an enemy to the holy 
 Roman empire; and the daring innovator was only sheltered 
 from capital punishment by his prudent protector, who 
 secreted him ten months in the castle of Wallenberg. Here 
 Luther employed his active mind in translating the Nw 
 Testament Wo German; but before he had finished the 
 work he impatiently broke away from his confinement, and 
 repaired to Wittemberg, where the friends of the reformation 
 (so Httle did the progress of reform now depend upon 
 Luther) had already proceeded -to greater lengths than then- 
 acknowledged leader himself approved; for Luther was 
 rather disposed to treat with toleration altars, images, waxen 
 tapers, and private confession. He now, however, with 
 the assistance of several 'Other learned and pious men, com- 
 pleted his translation of the scriptures, which probably con- 
 tributed more than all other causes to strengthen the founda- 
 tions of the Lutheran church. 
 
 The tear Ji>'22 terminated the life and reign of Leo X. 
 ■who after having erected the stupendous pillars which 
 
SWITZERLAND AND ITAI/Y. 
 
 17.5 
 
 should support a regal canopy over the supposed sepulchre 
 of St. Peter and St. Paul, was himself deposited beneath a 
 nameless stone, in a Dominican convent. 
 
 Several diets were about this time successively convened 
 at Nuremberg, from which the popish legate finally with- 
 drew in disgust, on finding that the German princes ia 
 general were no enemies to the reformation. 
 
 But the friends of the reformation now divided among 
 themselves. Luther and his followers, though they rejected 
 the Romish doetrine of substantiation (the conversion of 
 the bread and wine into the real body and blood of Christ) 
 were nevertheless of opinion that the partakers of the Lord's 
 supper received, together with the bread and the wine, the 
 body and the blood. Zuinglius on the contrary, and the 
 Swiss reformers, at the head of whom it is usual to place 
 John Calvin (a native of Picardy, who not long afterward 
 took the lead at Geneva) maintained that the body and 
 blood were no way present in the Eucharist, for that the 
 bread and wine were nothing more than external symbols, 
 designed to excite the remembrance of the sufferings and 
 death of the Redeemer. Hence arose in 1524, a vehement 
 controversy, which finally terminated in that distinction of 
 doctrine and worship, which now divides the greatest part 
 of the protestant world, under the distinguishing appellations 
 of Lutherans and Calvinists.. 
 
 In 1529, Charles V-. zealous for the unity of faith and wor*- 
 ship, convoked another diet at Spires, in which every 
 change in the doctrine, discipline, and worship of the 
 catholic church, was declared impious and unlawful. 
 Against this arbitrary decree, John, elector of Saxony, 
 George, elector of Brandenburgh, (ancestor of the kings of 
 Prussia) the landgrave of Hesse, the prince of Anhalt, and 
 the duke of Lunenburgh, (progenitor of the house of Han- 
 over) protested in form, and their protest was powerfully 
 seconded by Strasburgh, Constance, and eleven other free 
 cities of the empire. From this celebrated protest originated 
 the name of protestants, now unanimously adopted by all 
 professing Christians, who have abjured the Romish com- 
 munion. After the dissolution of the diet, the protestant 
 princes reassembled at Augsburgh to strengthen themselves 
 by a league and covenant; and it was then that Melanc- 
 thon drew up the famous confession of faith, which 
 has ever since formed the basis of the Lutheran 
 system. 
 
 About this time the Swedes* under Gustavus Vasa, em* 
 
176 
 
 TRAVELS THROUGH 
 
 braced the reformation, at the preaching of Ohms Petri, 
 who had translated the Bible into the Swedish tongue; as 
 did the Danes, soon afterward, under Christiern 111. In 
 France the reformed opinions had been received by great 
 numbers of zealous Christians as early as the year 1523. 
 But they were persecuted with outrageous zeal by Francis I. 
 although the protestants were countenanced by the king's 
 sister,° Margaret queen of Navarre, the mother of that 
 Henry de Bourbon who afterward abjured his religion to 
 facilitate his accession to the throne of France, under the 
 well known name of Henry IV. 
 
 The protestant doctrines had also been embraced by mul- 
 titudes of devout professors in Hungary, Bohemia, the 
 .Netherlands, and the British Islands, when Henry VIII. 
 broke with the church of Rome, because Clement VII. 
 would not consent to dissolve his marriage with Catharine of 
 Arragon, aunt to Charles V. who having been first espoused 
 by his brother Arthur, the inconstant Henry either felt or 
 affected scruples of conscience, on account of consanguinity. 
 To this measure the monarch is supposed to have been insti- 
 gated by Thomas Cranmer, a student of divinity, who had 
 embraced the new doctrines, and was afterward elevated to 
 the see of Canterbury. But the uxorious tyrant little de- 
 serves to be ranked with the heads of the reformation, since 
 he persecuted to death all who presumed to differ from his 
 own inconstant standard of faith or practice. The furious 
 bigot once caused to be burned at the same stake three 
 witnesses against the invocation of saints, and three con- 
 scientious sticklers for the pope's supremacy; and he sacri-, 
 ficed with relentless animosity his own lord chancellor, the 
 philosophic More, for refusing to abjure the religion of his 
 fathers. 
 
 The divorce to which has been so lightly attributed the, 
 origin of the reformation in England, did not take place till, 
 the year 1533 ; but Tyndal's translation of the New Testa- 
 ment had been printed at Antwerp in 1527, and was eagerly 
 read throughout the nation, notwithstanding the powerful 
 exertions of the pretended reformer to suppress the sacred 
 book. It was not until the irresistible progress of the refor- 
 mation overcame the opposition of the superior clergy, that 
 Miles Coverdale, and John Rogers, were permitted to 
 correct Tyndal's Bible, which had been printed at Hamburgh 
 in 15^2, and to publish the same (after having undergone 
 the royal expurgation) under the name of Cranmer. Even 
 this translation, which he had sanctioned himself, was after- 
 
 I 
 
SWITZERLAND AND ITALY. 177 
 
 ward forbidden by the peevish Reformado, who had become 
 so corpulent that he could no longer move without difficulty, 
 when an inveterate ulcer removed the incumbrance from the 
 world.* 
 
 In the year 1559, John Knox, a disciple of Calvin, returned 
 to Scotland from Geneva, and soon established presbvteri- 
 anism upon the ruins of prelac}\ 
 
 The reformation had not been long confirmed in Britain 
 when the Belgic provinces united together by a respectable 
 confederacy, withdrew from their spiritual allegiance to the 
 Roman pontiff. Their catholic sovereign, Philip H. at- 
 tempted to establish the hateful tribunal of the inquisition to 
 check their innovating spirit; but the nobility associating to 
 defend themselves from such tyranny, the duke of Alva was 
 sent to quell the revolters, and a long and bloody contest 
 ensued between Spain and Holland, which was at length 
 happily terminated by William of Nassau, aided by the 
 assistance of queen Elizabeth, who then swayed the sceptre 
 of Britain. Even in Italy and Spain reformed doctrines 
 were now disseminated ; but in those bigoted countries 
 the solitary reformers were utterly extirpated by fire and 
 sword. 
 
 In England, during the short reign of Edward VI. the 
 son and successor of Henry, the reformation made a Vapid 
 progress, under the fostering influence of archbishop Cranmer, 
 and the protector Somerset, although (I mention it with 
 grief) the protestant prelate unfeelingly persecuted to the 
 stake, the German anabaptists, who fled into England 
 from the devastation of « the rustic war". 
 
 During this interval of tranquillity began the first schism, 
 in the church of England, which eventually gave rise to 
 the denomination of Puritans, an epithet of reproach that 
 was applied to those persons of tender conscience, who with 
 Hooper, a pious and learned divine that lately returned 
 from Zurich, refused to officiate at the ancient altars, to 
 make the sign of the cross, to invest themselves with 
 
 • By a statute of the 35th of Henry VIII. it is enacted, « That the Bible 
 shall not be read m any church :" and the prohibitory document particu- 
 larizes, with whimsical asperity, « That no women or artificers, apprentices 
 journeymen, serving men, husbandmen, or labourers, shall read the New 
 lestamentin English."— But a hundred years earlier an interdict had been 
 fulminated by Henry V. the conqueror of Agincourt, " That whoever thev 
 were that should read the scriptures in the mother tongue, they should for- 
 feit lands, cate , l.f, and godes from their heyres for ever ; and so be con- 
 dempned (to the flames) for heretykes to God, enemies to the crowne, and 
 most errant traitors to the lande." 
 
 SWITZERLAND.] z 
 
TRAVELS THROUGH 
 
 the symbolic garments of the papistical priesthood. Hooper 
 permitted his scruples to melt away, in the sunshine of 
 royal favour, and compromised with conformity by suffer- 
 ing himself to be consecrated bishop of Gloucester in a 
 square cap, a scarlet hood, and a linen rochet, provided 
 he might be suffered to preach in private, in the sober 
 habit of a christian minister. But the more zealous refoi> 
 mers, such as Latimer, Coverdale, Taylor, Philpot and 
 Bradford, would not be persuaded to ptut on the popish 
 vestments; and when in the next reign the venerable Cran- 
 mer was himself degraded from his episcopal dignity, 
 he cast a smile of contempt upon the antichristian orna- 
 ments, of which he was spitefully disrobed. The dispute 
 (significant or insignificant) was blown ayvay for the pre- 
 sent by a rising blast, which involved the disputants in one 
 common danger. 
 
 King Edwarcl dying at the age of sixteen, he was suc- 
 ceeded by his eldest sister, the daughter of Catherine of 
 Arragon, emphatically styled the bloody Mary, because in a 
 reign of no more than five years, she caused to be burned at 
 \he stake two hundred, and sevent3 r -seven persons (among 
 whom were fifty-five women and four children) in a vain 
 attempt to restore the realm of England to the supremacy 
 of the pope. 
 
 In the year 1558, the fiery zealot was succeeded by queer\ 
 Elizabeth, in whose long and prosperous reign, the church 
 of England was too firmly established to be shaken by the 
 secret or open Catholicism of her successors of the house of 
 Stuart, though a protestant historian must notice with re- 
 gret, that Elizabeth instead of prosecuting the reformation^ 
 after the example and intentions of her royal brother, con- 
 ceived that the pious Edward had already gone too far in 
 stripping religion of her ornaments, being herself disposed to 
 retain the use of crucifixes, lighted tapers and instrumental 
 music, as well as the sacerdotal vestments, which contribute 
 to the pomp and splendour with which rma* aspiring prin- 
 cess delighted to invest the throne. It is even suggested, 
 that the, tc virgin queen" would have forbidden the mar- 
 riage of the clergy, if her secretary, Cecil, had not interposed 
 in their behalf. 
 
 The zealous professors who had escaped from the Marian 
 persecution, by withdrawing into foreign countries, and 
 who now returned in great numbers from Frankfort, Stras- 
 burgh, Basil, Zurich and Geneva, were naturally offended 
 by the retrograde motions of the national establishment^ 
 
SWITZERLAND ANt) ITAL?. 
 
 179 
 
 and after ineffectual attempts to promote the reformation int 
 the bosom of the church, they finally separated them- 
 selves from her communion, for the liberty of discharging 
 their christian duty, according to their own ideas of gospel 
 order and religious obligation. 
 
 The dissenting congregations now suffered persecution: 
 from the national church, which had succeeded to the 
 power and wealth of the abrogated system. But it must 
 not be forgotten that cruelty was the vice of the age. Cle- 
 rical synods were not likely to shake off intolerance, whilst 
 courts of justice (at Paris as well as at London) accredited 
 prosecutions for sorcery and witchcraft ; and if the theolo- 
 gians of Edinburgh and Geneva, groped their way among 
 the mazes of election and reprobation, contemporary astro- 
 logers prognosticated events from the aspect of the heavens, 
 and alchemists perceived in the combination of metals the 
 phantom of the philosopher's stone. 
 
 Among the dissenters of great Britain "successively" 
 arose the presbyterians, the baptists, and the quakers, ( scorn- 
 fully so called in England, though better known in America 
 by the characteristic epithet of friends) each of whom en- 
 deavoured " in turn" to advance upon their predecessors, 
 in reducing the christian discipline and worship to the per- 
 fect standard of primitive simplicity. 
 
 In a new world, on the western side of the Atlantic, the 
 heterogeneous alliance between church and state, has 
 been at length abolished. The elective government of the 
 United States, unfettered by the shackles of prescription, 
 disclaims all right of interference in matters of conscience^ 
 From New Hampshire to Georgia, the various professors; 
 of Christianity (whether catholic or protestant) have relin- 
 quished exclusive pretensions for mutual forbearance ; and 
 their various modifications, like the flowers of a parterre, 
 contribute to the embellishment of " the garden of the 
 Lord." 
 
 For the unexpected length of these historical sketches of 
 the corruption of Christianity, and the rise and progress of 
 the reformation, I shall make no apology ; for the events of 
 christian history since the days of the apostles, are too little 
 known in America, and they can hardly fail to excite the 
 curiosity, if not the sensibility of every professor of the 
 christian faith. 
 
 I have drawn the " earlier" facts, from Mosheim's Eccle- 
 siastical History, and the " latter" from Neal's History of 
 ?he Puritans. But it was not to be expected that a " youth-' 
 
180 
 
 TRAVELS THROUGH SWITZERLAND, &C. 
 
 full layman" should take up the spectacles of a " Lutheran 
 professor, or a puritan divine :" and it will be easily perceived 
 that I have contemplated them through a different medium, 
 and placed them in another point of light. 
 
 I have compared my leading authorities with the histories 
 of the reformation, the writings of the fathers, and the in* 
 spired productions of the prophets and evangelists; and I 
 can scarcely refrain from closing the eventful narrative with 
 the singular coincidences of prophetic anticipation with his- 
 torical fact. 
 
 In the days of which kings,'' said Daniel, interpreting 
 the dream that troubled the spirit of the king of Babylon, 
 " shall the God of heaven set up a kingdom, that shall 
 never be destroyed." — " I saw," said John, " a woman 
 arrayed in purple and scarlet colour, and decked with pearls 
 and precious stones, having in her hand a golden cup, and 
 upon her forehead names of blasphemy; and sitting upon 
 seven mountains, in that city which rtigneth over the kings of 
 the earth." 
 
 But I forbear the invidious application, since the book of 
 prophecy has been sealed as with seven seals, from the pry- 
 ing researches of prophane curiosity ; and 1 shall conclude 
 with a remark which must be obvious to every reader, that 
 the long duration of the papal hierarchy, so clearly pre- 
 dicted, and accurately described, in the Gospels, the Epis- 
 tles, and the Revelations, is a proof of the divine authority 
 of the New Testament, no less irrefragable than the existence 
 of the Jews is of that of the Old, " sifted," as the prophet 
 Amos, had foretold, " among all nations as corn is sifted in a 
 sieve." 
 
 The chronology of both these miraculous circumstances 
 in the history of mankind, however they have been enve- 
 loped in the mantle of time, may yet be corroborated at 
 Rome by existing monuments of coeval antiquity. The bas- 
 reliefs of the arch of Titus (the prince that was to destroy the 
 city and the sanctuary) have preserved the figure of the well 
 known vessels of the Jewish Temple, ever since the destruc- 
 tion of the Holy City ; and the rude mosaics of the church 
 of Santa Maria Maggiore demonstrate the corruption of 
 Christianity at an age so remote from that of the piotestant 
 professions, as to give ample scope for the twelve hundred 
 and sixty years of intermediate desolation, foreseen alike by 
 Daniel the prophet, and John the divine. 
 
£ 181 ] 
 
 LETTER XXL 
 
 THE LIFE OF PIUS THE SIXTH. 
 
 A 
 
 -^*-FTER ruling with a rod of iron during a period of a 
 tn ousand years, if we reckon from the donation of Charle- 
 magne; of twelve hundred, if from the privileges granted bv 
 Phocas ; of fifteen, if we ascend to the conversion of Coii- 
 stantine, the papal chair has been swept from the Vatican 
 by an irruption of modern Goths ; and if since the deposition 
 and decease of Pius the sixth, whose portrait occupied the 
 last vacancy in the papal gallery which surmounts the 
 colonnades of St. Paul's with the heads of two hundred and 
 sixty successors of St. Peter, another Pius has been allowed 
 to reassume the name and honours of the papacy, the feeble 
 representative of the ancient popes must submit to hold his 
 doubtful elevation, during the pleasure of a foreign dictator, 
 at the expense of the dismemberment of the ecclesiastical 
 state, which has left to the titular pope little more of power 
 or revenue than falls to the share of the princely bishops of 
 Saltzburgor Mayence. The unfortunate Braschi may be 
 considered as the last of the long drawn dynasty that inhe- 
 rited the temporal as well as the spiritual crown, so absurdly 
 derived from the fisherman of Galilee ; and the eventful life 
 of Pius the sixth may be read with additional interest, 
 as that of the last imperial pontiff of the see of Rome. 
 
 On the demise of Clement XHI. Fi ancesco Lorenzo Gan- 
 ganelli had been elected to the papal chair, through the 
 influence of the two courts of Madrid and Versailles. The 
 house of Bourbon had then lately expelled the Jesuits from 
 their dominions, and the abolition of the prescribed frater- 
 nity had been made a condition of the election of Clement 
 the fourteenth. In 1773, the new pope accordingly sub- 
 scribed, with a trembling hand, the famous bull which pro- 
 nounced the extinction of the brotherhood. Clement hesi- 
 tated to the last, and finally put his name to the fatal instru- 
 ment with these memorable words, the keenest reproach that 
 «as ever been uttered against the pretended companions of 
 
382 
 
 TRAVELS THROUCHt 
 
 Jesus : " I know that I am about to sign ray owri death wrfr-* 
 rant. — But it does not signify*— ^-The die is cast." The phi- 
 losophic Ganganelli was accordingly removed by poison 
 before the end of another year. 
 
 After the usual intrigues of the sacred college, which 
 perplexed the assembled fathers from September till Febru- 
 ary, Clement XIV. was succeeded by John Angelo Braschi, 
 who was bom at Cesena in 1717. Upon the new {topes 
 assuming the appellation of Pius the sixth, the omen 
 was thought unfavourable, and the people of Rome recol- 
 lected with superstitious apprehensions, a Latin pentameter, 
 which had been applied in the disastrous days of the sixth 
 Alexander: 
 
 Semper sub Sextis perditalloma fuit.* 
 
 Puis the sixth was excessively vain. To the two winds, 
 the modest coat of arms of his ancestors, he added an eagle, 
 fleurs de lis and stars. These splendid insignia were after- 
 ward ostentatiously affixed, not only to all the monuments 
 that he erected himself, but to all others which he either 
 altered or repaired. A circumstance of puerile gratification, 
 which must have cost the ecclesiastical state some hundred 
 thousands of crowns. The people revenged themselves upon 
 their sovereign in a Latin distich : 
 
 Redde aquilam Tmperio Francorum lilia regi 
 Sidera redde pok> cajtera Braschi tua.f 
 
 Pius had once been abbot of Subiaco, which was a suffi- 
 cient reason for decorating that monastery with a palace, a 
 church, and a library, of princely magnificence. At the 
 expence of 1,()00,000 crowns he afterward constructed the 
 sacristy of St. Peter's, that nothing might be wanting to the 
 splendour of the clerical functions in the cathedral of the 
 Roman world. He enriched the museum of the Vatican 
 with innumerable objects of art; he called the enlarged 
 collection by his own name ; and upon every piece of sculp- 
 ture which he had acquired himself, he ordered these words 
 to be engraven in letters of gold : 
 
 Ml/KIFICENTIA Ml SZXTt. 
 
 * The Sixes are sinister at Rome, 
 f Yield the eagle to the empire, the lilies to the crown, 
 The stars to the firmament— the puffs are all thy own, 
 
SWITZERLAND AND ITALY. I83 
 
 But the munificence of the prince impoverished the people, 
 and they parodied with infamy the favourite inscription.* 
 His long pontificate was itself a grievance, which neither the 
 members of the sacred college nor the people of Rome 
 could forgive. These had long waited for the chances of 
 another election, and those were impatient for the amus- 
 ing ceremonies of a papal funeral and a pontifical ordi- 
 nation, which had scarcely ever before been so enhanced by 
 rarity. 
 
 Of all the enterprizes of Pins the sixth, the most useful 
 was the attempt to drain the Pontine Marshes, though the 
 expences incurred by it exhausted the papal treasury, and 
 provoked the impatience of the people of Rome. The Via 
 Appia, a road so called from having been constructed by 
 Appius Claudius the censor, three centuries before the 
 Christian aera, led directly across these marshes, whose 
 pestiferous exhalation is supplied by two rivers, which bear 
 to this day the identical names that were given them by the 
 ancient Romans. A hundred and fifty years after the con- 
 struction of this road, Cornelius Cethegus, the consul, under- 
 took to drain the marshes ; but attempted it in vain 
 Augustus succeeded a hundred years later by cutting alonff 
 the Appian Way a canal sufficiently deep and wide for the 
 purposes of inland navigation. It was upon this canal that 
 the Poet Horace embarked when he went to Brundusium 
 on the journey which he has so humorously described in 
 the fifth satire of his first book. But time and nature had 
 long since resumed their rights, when Boniface VIII. Martin 
 V. Leo X. and Sixtus V. renewed the labours of antiquity - 
 and the names of Rio Martino and Fuime Sisto still direct 
 the eye of observation to the particular operations of the 
 respective pontiffs. The supine successors of these enter- 
 prizing prelates suffered their works to q;o to ruin ; and when 
 Pius the sixth succeeded to the papal chair, the Pontine 
 marshes had again become totally impassable. Pius beo- an 
 his operations by clearing away the accumulated rubbish* 5 of 
 two thousand years, which discovered again the original 
 pavement of the Appian Way, marked with the narrow 
 traces of the ancient cars. He then raised the surface several 
 feet higher, called it the Via Pia, planned a city in the 
 
 * The bread of Rome is made up in little rolls called pagnotti, which are 
 sold at a fixed rate, and made larger or less according to the price of flour 
 During a urne of scarcity, a very little pagnotta was put into the hand of 
 I asqum, and undent appeared the well known inscription : 
 MUNlflCENTiA PII SEXfl. 
 
184 
 
 TRAVELS THROUGH 
 
 midst of tine marshes, and dug a broad canal from the cause- 
 way to the Mediterranean, to drain the unwholesome bog of 
 its superfluous moisture. But the surface of the marsh was 
 now discovered to be lower than that of the sea; repeated 
 inundations overwhelmed the unfinished works; after the 
 labour of twelve years the Pontine marshes still remained a 
 pestilential morass; and the expensive and successless un- 
 dertaking became a prpverb for money thrown away. Sono 
 mutate alle Paludi Pontine* The works had been under- 
 taken and paid for by the apostolic chamber (such is the 
 singular style of the papal exchequer) and the immense 
 sums appropriated to them were, as usual, abandoned with- 
 out restriction to clerical rapacity and official embezzle- 
 ment. 
 
 In the superannuated court of Rome, the place of the 
 favourites and mistresses of other sovereigns was generally 
 iilled by the nephews of the popes, a serious evil to the eccle- 
 siastical state, since temporal despots can dismiss their 
 minions at pleasure, whilst family pride insures the con- 
 stancy of papal favouritism. In former ages the popes 
 nephews had it in their power to enrich themselves, at leisure, 
 by means of the pius tribute which then flowed from every 
 part of Europe into the treasury of their doting uncle. But 
 since their source has gradually dried away, it has been only 
 by oppressing their immediate subjects, that the popes have 
 been able to indulge the extravagance of nepotism. Unfor- 
 tunately for himself and his flock, Pius the sixth had a 
 sister, whose two sons bore their father's name (Onesti) till 
 assuming that of the exalted successor of the humble fisher- 
 man of the lake of Gennesaret, he raised one of them to the 
 purple, and the other to a dukedom. The duke was after- 
 ward married (so skilful are the childless popes in creating 
 papal families) to the daughter of that Signora Falconieri, 
 who was said to have been his uncle's mistress in the days of 
 his noviciate. 
 
 But none of the imprudencies of Pius the sixth had a 
 more immediate tendency to degrade the papacy than his 
 journey to Vienna in 1782, upon the hopeless errand to 
 dissuade the emperor Joseph from prosecuting his philo- 
 sophic reforms. Yet was the sovereign pontiff weak enough 
 to be flattered by the adulation of the people, and deceived 
 by the courtesy of the prince. On the road the pious 
 Braschi paid his devotions to our lady of Loretto, embraced 
 
 * It is gone to the Pontine marches, 
 
SWITZERLAND AND ITALY. " 
 
 bis own family at Cesena, and received with his accustomed 
 dignity the compliments of count Zambeccari on behalf of 
 his catholic master Charles III. At lmola a similar deputa- 
 tion saluted his holiness from the king of Sardinia; but the 
 devout duke of Parma attended in person, embraced the 
 sacred slipper, and returned in peace. The universal eager- 
 ness to behold the head of the church, now bordered upon 
 phrenzy. On the banks of the Po the Venetian Bucentoro 
 and a multitude of the faithful, impatiently awaited the 
 successor of St. Peter. Acclaiming crowds conducted him 
 in triumph to the Island of Chiozza, where in sight of the 
 glittering turrets of the queen of the seas, the holy father 
 was complimented by a deputation from the do$e (a prisoner 
 of state, who can never quit Venice without "forfeiting his 
 dignity) attended by such a press of barques and o-ondolas 
 that it was scarcely possible to advance. He disembarked 
 at Melgara upon a Turkey carpet, and was received at 
 Mestre by all the nobility of the environs, assembled to 
 crave a blessing as he passed. On entering Austria the 
 pious Germans flocked around the ghostly father with a mix- 
 ture of curiosity and veneration scarcely to be satisfied with- 
 out « touching the hem of his garment," Joseph himself 
 and his brother Maximilian came out to meet the pontiff 
 on his approach to the capital of the empire. The emperor 
 seated the pope in his own carriage; and the affectionate 
 pair entered Vienna together, amidst united acclamations 
 of loyalty and devotion. A month or two passed away in 
 the empty reciprocation of homage and etiquette, and mag- 
 nificent presents were given and received by the spiritual 
 and temporal pageants of the holv Roman empire. Yet 
 Pius gained nothing by his expensive parade, but the suspen- 
 sion of an oath of allegiance, which had been required of 
 the clergy, and the privilege of prescribing some insignifi- 
 cant monastic regulations. The pontiff returned through 
 Munich and Augsburg, where he obtained without difficulty 
 from the precise professors of the Lutheran confession, that 
 homage as sovereign, which they would have deemed it 
 impious to allow him as pope. When the equivocal poten- 
 tate re-entered Italy the lucid surface of the Adige reflected 
 the illumination of the palaces on its banks, and Venice 
 had deferred for his entertainment the annual ceremony, 
 equally pompous and absurd, of espousing the Adriatic with 
 a ring and a scourge. But the pride of the imperial pontiff 
 was more nobly gratified, when he waved the apostolic bene- 
 diction over thousands of the faithful, who prostrated them- 
 
 SWITZERLAND.] A a 
 
lg§ TRAVELS THROUGH 
 
 selves at his feet in the amphitheatre of Verona, one of the 
 noblest monuments of antiquity that has survived the ravages 
 
 of time. -11 
 
 The returning sovereign was received at Rome with the 
 ringing of bells, and firing of canon; but those uncertain 
 indications of public rejoicing were insufficient to drown the 
 complaints of his subjects, who were then suffering under a 
 scarcity of provisions, occasioned by the profusion and mis- 
 management of their ecclesiastical governors. The shores 
 pf the Adriatic produced almost spontaneously corn, wine, 
 and oil, the peculiar productions of the land of promise j but 
 on the coasts of the Mediterranean not a tvyentieth part of 
 the soil was in a state of cultivation. The government 
 bought up the crops at its own price, forbidding the expor- 
 tation of corn, by an edict equally impolitic and unjust, for 
 occasional permissions were granted without reserve to enrich 
 particular favourites; whilst the articles of wool and silk 
 were chiefly sent abroad, instead of furnishing employ and 
 emolument by being manufactured at home. Cattle 
 brought to market were rated at a low price, and oil was ext 
 clusively monopolized by the popes' nephews. Every thing 
 in short that was produced by the bounty of nature in the 
 ecclesiastical state was brought for sale to Rome, and there 
 the price of it was fixed by the department of La Grasaa, 
 by which it was afterward retailed to the people at advanced 
 rates At the head of the department of subsistence vyas a 
 prefect, who was particularly charged with the victualling of 
 Rome; but the result of the means pursued to furnish the 
 people' of Rome with provisions, was a scarcity of meat, 
 bread, and oil; and the several establishments charged with 
 the management of these enervating monopolies were 
 directed with so little address, that the result did not enrich 
 the state, while it impoverished the subject. The ordinary 
 revenues of the ecclesiastical state were estimated at two 
 millions and a half of Roman crowns (little differing m 
 value from the Mexican dollar current in the United btates) 
 of which the territorial income might alone have been made 
 to produce 800,000, hut it scarcely yielded 450, inatten- 
 tion and rapacity swallowed up the rest. 
 
 ' The supine administration was no less destitute ot energy 
 for the protection of property and the repression of crimes, 
 than of intelligence for the encouragement of industry and 
 the management of finance. During the eleven years ot 
 Clement X HI. 1 0,000 murders are said to have been com- 
 mitted in, the' ecclesiastical state, 4000 of which had been 
 
Switzerland and italy. 
 
 187 
 
 perpetrated in the capital, for it was there one of the prero- 
 gatives of greatness to be surrounded with unpunished 
 assassins. Yet amidst all this relaxation, the Jews of Rome.; 
 to the number of 12 } ®00, were obliged to wear Upon their 
 heads a badge of infamy ; they were forbidden under 
 penalty of the gallies to approach the sacred convent 6f 
 the Annunciatiou; and they were bound on pain of death to 
 be within the Ghetto or Jewish quarter (a scanty precinct; 
 little better than the confinement of a dungeon) an hour 
 after sun-set. In a more barbarous age the unfortunate 
 posterity of Abraham had been obliged to run foot-races 
 during the carnival, for the diversion of the Christian popu- 
 lace ; and they were still required, to the number of 300 
 at a time to attend a lecture every Sabbath-day, in which a 
 Dominican friar exhorted them in maledictions, and wooed 
 them to the bosom of the churchy with threats of hell and 
 damnation. 
 
 Joseph the second was not now the only refractory soil 
 of the church. Attempts had been made by the most chris- 
 tian and most catholic kings to abridge the privileges of the 
 apaey, and even the most faithful dynasty of Portuo-at 
 egan to conceive ideas of ecclesiastical reform, which were 
 only postponed by the premature decease of the prince of 
 Brazil, the heir apparent of the realm. The interests of the 
 papal see were no longer supported in the courts of princes, 
 by the intrigues of the jesuits ; and the progress of philoso- 
 phy, haying confuted the errors of prejudice, was proceed- 
 ing to implicate the antiquated claims of prescription. 
 Slumbering at ease in the arms of indulgence, the superior- 
 clergy scarcely deemed it necessary to affect the semblances 
 of zeal ; immorality was known to prevail in secret under 
 the mark of devotion, and even the dignitaries of the church 
 no longer forbore to ridicule in private, the functions, which 
 they were obliged to perform in public with apparent solem- 
 nit\\ Under all these circumstances of evil omen the apos- 
 tolic chamber became Overburdened with debt. 
 
 So long ago as the year J 585 SixtnsV. had borrowed 
 J 0,000,000 of crowns, one-half of which he had laid up in 
 the castle of St. Angelo as a reserve for critical emergen- 
 cies. The public debt had increased under each of° his 
 successors, excepting the temperate Ganganelli. In the 
 days of Pius the sixth, the annual expenditure exceeded the 
 receipts by some hundred thousands of crowns. To provide 
 for the excess, the imprudent pontiff had recourse to the 
 
 a a Q 
 
188 
 
 TRAVELS THROUGH 
 
 dangerous expedient of an emission of paper money, by 
 whose immediate depreciation the fainting efforts of the 
 papal government were completely paralysed long before 
 the unparalleled revolution in France, after suddenly 
 overturning the most ancient and powerful throne in 
 Europe, had begun to threaten the existence of surrounding 
 dynasties. 
 
 The sovereign pontiff and the devotees of Rome had not 
 teen unmindful of a civil broil, so peculiarly inimical to 
 priests and princes. Their political creed had been already 
 professed with too little reserve to escape the examination 
 of the new inquisitors. But when the post from Turin 
 brought intelligence of the escape of Lewis XVI. public re- 
 joicings were made at Rome. The populace hurried to the 
 palace where the Cardinal de Bernis entertained the 
 two aunts of the French monarch, and rent the air with 
 shouts of 
 
 Viva il Re di Francis !* 
 
 The most oppressive vigilance was exercised toward French 
 citizens at Rome; several of them were arbitrarily confined 
 in prisons, and while professing to preserve a strict neutra- 
 lity the pope raised troops and invited General Caprara to 
 assume the command. But the hardy German, on reviewing 
 the new levies, whose grotesque accoutrements and desultory 
 manoeuvres alternately excited ridicule and indignation, 
 declared in plain terms that " with such troops it would be 
 useless to face the enemy, for at the first discharge he was 
 sure they would all run away." Thus did the govern- 
 ment of Rome attract the threatening clouds which were 
 soon to burst in thunder over its defenceless head. 
 
 As early as the year 1798, the French revolutionists at 
 Rome had openly assembled in the palace of the academy, 
 one of the noblest monuments of the munificence of Lewis 
 XIV.; but when Basseville, the agent of the directory, drove 
 publicly along the Corso, with the tri-coloured cockade in 
 his hat, the populace stung with the sight of the insurrec- 
 tionary symbol, assailed the carriage with sticks and stones., 
 and the imprudent offender fell an easy prey to their un- 
 governable fury. At the beginning of 1 7Q5, various circum« 
 stances had concurred to irritate the populace of Romeo 
 During the three preceding years the pope had thought 
 
 * Long lire the king of France, 
 
SWITZERLAND AND ITALY. 
 
 189 
 
 proper to prohibit tlie customary diversions of the carnival, 
 in consideration of the calamities, or of the dangers of the 
 church. Impatient of the unwelcome restraint, upon the 
 approach of lent this year, the Transteverini ran about the 
 streets in masks. The patroles attempted to suppress these 
 whimsical sallies of vulgar merriment. They were repelled 
 with knives and stilettoes, and the papal satellites disap- 
 peared with expedition before rattling vollies of dirt and 
 stones. The populace, on finding themselves masters of the 
 field, attacked the defenceless Palazzo Borghese ; but suf- 
 fered their military ardour to be dissipated by a few handfuls 
 of gold and silver, opportunely distributed from the win- 
 dows; that of duke Braschi (still unfinished after ten years 
 labour, and an expenditure of millions) sustained a more 
 serious assault ; and those of Chigi and Piombino were saved 
 from pillage by repelling the ephemeral assailants. The 
 government did not attempt to interpose till the storm began 
 to subside, when the pope peeping out of his covert ventured 
 to echo a retiring peal, by fulminating an anathema upon the 
 guilty head which should presume again to resist the autho- 
 rity of a Sbirro. 
 
 The victorious Bonaparte was by this time master of 
 Lombardy, and threatened with immediate incursion all 
 Italy, and especially the ecclesiastical state. Bologna, 
 Ferrara, and even Ancona were already in the hands of the 
 French, when the Chevalier Azara, then minister of Spain 
 at the papal court (from whose anonymous account of the 
 Koman revolution 1 have deduced my own) was dispatched to 
 meet the conqueror with unlimited offers of concession. 
 To conciliate the result of the supplicatory intervention the 
 priests crowded about the shrines of the saints, threw open 
 the treasures of spiritual liberality, and proclaimed a peni- 
 tentiary procession, in which ladies of the first rank walked 
 bare foot, with dishevelled hair, from Santa Maria in 
 Vallicella, to the tomb of St. Peter and St. Paul. Madonnas, 
 now opened and shut their eyes near them, withered flowers 
 recovered their bloom, dry branches resumed their verdure, 
 and 40,000 years of indulgence were promised to be the por- 
 tion of whosoever should assist in repelling the sacrilegious 
 invaders. Notwithstanding these auspicious appearances, 
 the principal families were seen to withdraw from the 
 devoted city, the cardinals were preparing to follow them, 
 and the populace stood mute with consternation, when a 
 courier arrived from Bologna, with the welcome intelli- 
 gence of an armistice, procured with difficulty, by the 
 
traVeIs through 
 
 sacrifice of the Legantine provinces of Bologna and ferrsfa'y 
 the finest paintings, the most beautiful statues of the Museum 
 Pium Clemen tinum, and a contribution in money of 
 15,000,000. Public prnyers, thanksgiving, and proeiama 
 tions announced at once the deliverance and the necessities 
 of the state. The contribution must be raised without delay. 
 The obsolete deposit of Sixtus V. was now broken up. The 
 clergy were required to deliver all the vessels of gold and 
 silver with which they could possibly dispense, and the 
 laity were invited to send into the treasury their super- 
 fluous plate. On this occasion, prince Doria Pamlile 
 presented a donation that was valued at half a million. 
 
 But when intelligence was received at Rome that Bona- 
 parte had been obliged to raise the siege of Mantua, the 
 pope precipitately dispatched a legate to resume possession 
 of Ferrara ; French citizens were again iusulted in the 
 streets of Rome ; and the superannuated Zelada, unable to 
 brook any longer the irregularities he found it impossible to 
 restrain, resigned his office to Cardinal Busca, who was 
 destined to accelerate rather than retard the ruin of the 
 papacy. , 
 
 Anew consistory was now summoned to examine the con- 
 ditions of peace propounded by the French directory* and 
 rejected them as inadmissible. Preparations were made for 
 war, which heightened the discontent of the people. The 
 coin was depreciated by reducing its nominal value one- 
 fourth. The remaining*plate was called for. The farmers 
 were obliged to sell their corn at a reduced price and take 
 cedole at par, though the depreciated medium was subject 
 to a discount of fifty per cent. A civic guard was organized,, 
 of which the senator Rezzonico was nominated general- 
 issimo, and the princes Aldobrandini, Gabrielli, and Justini- 
 arii accepted in the militia the rank of colonels, while the 
 constable Colonna equipped at his own expence a regiment 
 of infantry, and the banker Torionia a troop of horse. On 
 the 6th of January 1797, were consecrated in St. Peter's 
 ehurch the colours of the several corps which were now- 
 ready to take the field. They were embroidered with a 
 cross, in imitation of the Labarum of Constantine, and the 
 sacred talisman was accompanied with the well known in- 
 scription " In hocsigno vinces." " Go!" cried the fanatical 
 monks, who were commissioned to pronounce the papal be- 
 " nediction, " imitate your ancestors, and conquer the nni- 
 ■verse.' 5 ' 
 
 The year I7'j6 had terminated with the rapid successes of 
 
SWITZERLAND AND ITALY. 
 
 the mvaders of Italy. Early in 1 769, from bead quarters 
 at Bologna, the imperious republican declared that the 
 armistice was broken by the pope's neglecting to answer the 
 pacific overtures which had been made to him from Milan. 
 Bonaparte accordingly invaded the ecclesiastical state, lie 
 possessed himself* without difficulty of La Romagna, the 
 duchy of Urbiuo, and the marquisate of Ancona, paid a visit 
 of depredation to our lady of Loretto, and wrote to Cardinal 
 Mattel, whom he personally knew, that he would tarrv five 
 days at Foligno, to give his master an opportunity of depre- 
 cating the vengeance of the republic. His eminence was 
 commissioned to repair to the victor without delay, and 
 returned with new conditions of political penance! The 
 pope was now to pay the republic thirty-one millions, to fur- 
 nish the army with ]600 horses, tq leave Romagna free, 
 and to receive a French garrison at Ancona. Whilst this 
 humiliating negociation pended in uncertainty all was in 
 confusion at Rome. The ghostly sovereign himself was 
 preparing to retire to Maples, and leave the people to their 
 rate. 
 
 The portentous interval of uncertainty was thus wasting 
 away in torpid irresolution, when Joseph Bonaparte, bro- 
 ther to the general, arrived from Paris as minister pleni- 
 potentiary from the redoubtable republic. The first days of 
 the minister's reception had been spent in pompous enter- 
 tainments and idle altercations, when a popular commotion 
 took place in the streets, and the insurgents took shelter in 
 the palace of the ambassador, the palazzo Corsini, iu the 
 suburb of Transtevere. 
 
 It was on the '28th of December 1797, a few days after 
 the preceding event, that the papal troops no longerable to 
 restrain their indignation at the sight of the insurgents, 
 braving ihem with impunity in the palace of the republic; 
 forcibly violated the privileged asylum to arrest the dis- 
 turbers of the public peace. The honour of th e French 
 ambassador would not permit him to remain a quiet spec- 
 tator of such an event, whether his principles were impli- 
 cated in it or pot. He appeared at a balcony, but strove in 
 vain to be heard, while general Duphor, a member of his 
 household, in attempting to repel the rioters, fell a victim to 
 their rage. The pope was indisposed. The cardinal secre- 
 tary was wholly unacquainted with what had happened, and 
 such was the supineness of clerical administration, that it was 
 two hours after the sinister event, before any public notice 
 : was taken of the affair,, fourteen had expired before official 
 
TRAVELS THROUGH 
 
 inquiry was made upon the spot. During that interval the 
 stupor of the cardinal secretary had been aroused by a letter 
 from the ambassador to acquaint him with his determination 
 to quit immediately the inhospitable city, and to demand of 
 him the necessary passports. The brother of Bonaparte 
 Was at length in vain solicited to remain at Rome. He 
 departed the next morning for Florence, from whence he- 
 transmitted to the directory an irritating narrative of the 
 unpardonable event. The enraged ambassador conde- 
 scended however to charge himself with a dispatch for the 
 marquis Massimi, the pope's minister at Paris (of a family 
 that claims descent from the Fabii Maxim i of antiquity) in 
 which cardinal Doria, the minister who steered with feeble 
 hands the barque of St. Peter, when the shattered hull 
 was ingulphed by the revolutionary whirlpool, declared 
 himself with " the meekness of a primitive apostle," desir- 
 ous to make any satisfaction that should be demanded for 
 the unfortunate affair, which he could neither foresee nor 
 prevent. 
 
 But no reparation from the zoeak could appease the resent- 
 ment of the strong.— The fable of the wolf and the lamb 
 was to be realized, and the plea of incapacity was disallowed 
 by the thirst of rapine. The armies of the republic in the 
 Cisalpine did not wait for orders to take exemplary ven- 
 geance on the helplessness of Rome. They marched with- 
 out delay for the banks of the Tiber, and general Berthier 
 had already taken the command of the forces, collected at 
 Ancona, on the 2oth of January. Only retarded by the 
 snows of the Apennine, the general of the republic advanced, 
 without resistance, to the very gates of Rome, preceded by 
 a manifesto, in the usual style of military policy, offering 
 peace to one party, on condition of " assisting to extermi- 
 nate the other." 
 
 Emboldened by these assurances, on the 15th of February 
 1798, the malcontents assembled in the " Campo Vaccino," 
 the forum which had teemed with Scipios and Csesars, pro- 
 claimed Rome independent of its clerical sovereign, and 
 planted, without opposition, the tree of liberty in the soil 
 of the capital. At noon a deputation of patriots was sent to, 
 general Berthier to acquaint him with the revolution which 
 had been so easily effected; and the same evening, preceded 
 by martial music, surrounded by staff officers, and followed 
 by a troop of horse, the republican commander traversed 
 amidst an innumerable multitude the Piazza del Popolo, and 
 by the Strada del Corso, ascended the hill of the capito], 
 
SWITZERLAND AND ITALY. ig3 
 
 where he apostrophised the manes of the Cato's, the Brutus's, 
 and the Pompey's, promised to re-edify the altar of Roman 
 freedom, and returned in triumph to his expecting 
 troops. 3 
 
 In the mean time the astonished members of the sacred 
 College assembled, in silence and solitude, in the echoing 
 vestibules, and airy halls, which they had been accustomed 
 to ascend, amidst opening crowds, obsequious to the rustle 
 of imperial robes. In this parting interview, in which Pius 
 bade farewell, " a long farewell to all his greatness," he is 
 said to have retained the majesty of misfortune, whilst the 
 adulatory brotherhood knelt once more before the throne of 
 their aspiration, saluted each other with the kiss of 
 peace ; and withdrew to seek their safety in concealment or 
 in flight. 
 
 A provisional government was soon established, which 
 subsisted under different modifications till the directory 
 thought proper to abandon their conquest. The remaining 
 cardinals were obliged to quit Rome, and leave their effects 
 behind them at the mercy of the conquerors. Some of the 
 despairing fathers withdrew to Naples, others to Milan, 
 Bologna, Florence, but the greatest number of them took 
 refuge in the Venetian territories ; where Chiaramonti was 
 elected, on the decease of Pius the sixth, to re-occupy the 
 abdicated chair. The pope's nephews, the cardinal, and 
 the duke, were stripped of their ill-gotten wealth, without 
 mercy or commiseration; and the pontiff himself was soon 
 informed that the public safety required his absence from 
 the territories of the new republic, 
 
 Pius submitted without a murmur to the decree that 
 exiled him from the theatre of pomp and power, of intrigue 
 and apprehension ; but he is said to have shed tears in secret 
 over the splendid museum, which it had been the-pride of his 
 heart to denominate and enrich. 
 
 The venerable priest was first conducted to Sienna, where 
 he was lodged in the convent of St. Barbara ; but he was 
 soon afterward removed to Florence, that he might be under 
 the eye of the minister of the French republic. The totter- 
 ing grand duke saluted the falling pontiff with tears of sym- 
 pathetic apprehension, and assigned for the residence of the 
 holy father a carthusian monastery, in the vicinity of his 
 capital. 
 
 In this situation the exiled sovereign is said to have still 
 indulged his peculiar relish for a luxurious table, and even 
 
 SWITZERLAND.} B b 
 
194 
 
 TRAVELS THROUGH 
 
 the gusto of his personal vanity, which could yet be gratified 
 with a flattering portrait of his florid age. 
 
 But when he was summoned to Paris to swell the triumph 
 of the unchristian directory over the religious establishments 
 of antiquity; and was happily detained by their sudden 
 downfall in the city of Valence, whose crumbling battle- 
 ments reminded him of his own decay, the mortified prelate 
 renounced all hope of restoration to the seat of spiritual 
 empire, and contented himself in the society of the arch- 
 bishop of Corinth, and a few devoted attendants, who daily 
 wheeled his armed chair into an open balcony, to receive 
 the homage of the faithful, and scatter a parting benediction 
 over his dispersed flock. 
 
 -.LETTER XXII. 
 
 JOURNEY TO NAPLES. 
 
 We quitted Rome about sun-rise, in the caravan of the 
 Procache, a line of stage coaches which runs between Rome 
 and Naples, under the protection of both governments, and 
 is therefore often preferred to a private carriage, for fear 
 of robbers, with whom the frontiers of the ecclesiastical 
 state and the kingdom of Naples are openly infested. We 
 formed a train of six clumsy coaches and a baggage waggon, 
 and several private coaches fell into our rear to take the 
 benefit of protection from the military escort, which is mutu- 
 ally exchanged upon the frontiers. 
 
 The charge for this lingering conveyance includes lodging 
 and supper, while on the road, which prevents imposition 
 and spares you the trouble of shifting for yourself, a material 
 accommodation to travellers not acquainted with the lan- 
 guages and usages of the country. 
 
 We drove over the deserted plains of the Campania, 
 by the ruins of temples and aqueducts, to the slopes of 
 Frescati, gayly ornamented with the summer retreats of 
 princes and cardinals. 
 
 On the road was no throng of business, bespeaking the 
 neighbourhood of a capital. No carts nor waggons were to 
 
SWITZERLAND AND ITALY. ig$ 
 
 be seer, loaded with bales of merchandise, or sacks of grain. 
 A peasant driving an ass, with a pannier of herbage, was 
 the Appinn °wa rn yP ° n the everlastill S pavement cf 
 
 Not far from these is the lake of Albano, supposed to be 
 the crater of an extinct volcano, seven or eight miles in cir- 
 cumference, the outlet of which, called the °« Emissarlb", a 
 tunnel cut through a mountain, one of the most stupend- 
 ous works of the ancient Romans, is said to have been com- 
 peted during the s.ege of Veii, at the instigation of the 
 iJelph.c Oracle. It is three feet and a half wide, six high, 
 and two miles long; and it still answers the purpose ?or 
 which it was constructed, four hundred years before the 
 christian sera. 
 
 We did not reach Veletri till sometime after ni-ht, and were 
 then meanly entertained, it being a meagre day, (a circum- 
 stance of which Italian innkeepers always avaiUhemselves) 
 nd still worse lodged though in a large town, but twenty 
 
 ^^^^ d b,nh ° f AUSUStUS ' ^ 
 
 Jext morning we entered on the Pontine marshes, the 
 draining of wh.cn had baffled the councils of the emperors, 
 of the labours of one of whom (Nerva) we saw a proof; in a 
 Roman milestone, which had been set up again on the new 
 road. It n inscribed with the same numerical letters now 
 in use I think they were (XXXV.) to mark the thirty-fifth 
 mile from the city of Rome. « Egressurn", says Horace, 
 describing the same road. , 
 
 Egressum magna me accepit Ariria Roma 
 Hospitio modico*. 
 
 The travellers fare is still moderate oh this journey, and 
 he that sleeps upon the road may yet exclaim with the poet: 
 
 ' M a 'i culices ranceque pa'ustres 
 
 Avertunt somnos t. 
 
 Toward evening we reached Terracina, where, in ancient 
 days on the white rocks of Anxur, there stood a temple 
 erected by the consul Posthumius, upon a design of Vitro- 
 vius Pollio, and dedicated to Jupiter. Its lofty pediment 
 
 * "*t eavin g imperial Rome my course I steer 
 ' 1 o poor Anria and its moderate cheer." 
 
 t " The fenny frogs with croaking, hoarse and deep, 
 And gnats loud buzzing drive away our sleep.'' 
 
 b b 3 
 
 FRANCIS. 
 IBID. 
 
190 
 
 TRAVELS THROUGH 
 
 was long an object for the vows of distressed mariners, 
 upon the Mediterranean ; as is still the dome of our lady of 
 Loretto, upon the Adriatic Gulpb. 
 
 The vicinity exhibits a luxuriant display of the produc- 
 tions of an Italian climate. As we skirted a bay of the sea, 
 the waves breaking furiously upon the beach, we admired 
 the fine hills, round the foot of which the road gradually 
 winds. Their sloping sides are covered with myrtles, bays, 
 palm-trees and aloes, under which sbeep and goats browse 
 deliciously among flowering shrubs. 
 
 On entering the Neapolitan dominions, at the Torre de 
 Confini, our passports were demanded by the guard, and we 
 were amused with the foreign air which had been cast upon 
 our names. Beneath a cardinal's hat of the old cut, orna-r 
 mented with strings and tassels, was " Permit," &c. " Don 
 Guiseppe S— — , con sua Sposa, Donna vViola, without let 
 or molestation, quietly to pass," 8tc. &c. 
 
 As we approached Fundi, we were struck with the sight 
 of an orange grove, the first that we had seen in the open 
 fields, glittering with green and gold. Cork trees also 
 abound in this district, and retain their leaves all winter. 
 
 Fundi still retains the character given of its inhabitants 
 by Cicero, who was afterwards murdered in this very neigh- 
 bourhood ; and they terrified us as they lined the streets, in 
 idle throngs, with the suspicious concealment of their tat- 
 tered cloaks and downcast looks. 
 
 The savages of the neighbouring coast, were the Lestri- 
 gones, or men eaters, described by Homer; who, like the 
 modern furies of the coast of Cornwall, make a prey of 
 shipwrecked mariners. 
 
 Mola di Gaeto is a fishing town, beautifully situated at 
 • the bottom of a delightful bay; but the neighbourhood 
 swarms with inhabitants, who seem content with indolence, 
 amidst poverty and dirt. 
 
 Here we had like to have been detained all day by a, 
 heavy fall of rain, which had rendered the Gangliano, the 
 silent Liris of the poets, and the boundary of ancient Latium, 
 furious torrent. 
 
 After dinner, while we were waiting the return of a messen- 
 ger, who had been sent to see whether it was possible tq 
 cross the river, a youth of the party, who had been bred in 
 France, beguiled the tedious moments by thrumming his 
 guitar to the tune of a complimentary " chanson", which 
 he politely addressed to " madame": for in Italy we speak 
 French, and pass without scruple for citizens de la Repub? 
 
SWITZERLAND AND ITALY. 
 
 197 
 
 lique Fracuise; though I believe we are generally taken for 
 a sort of" emigre's, or ci-devants. , 
 
 When we rose from table, a walk was proposed, to Borgo 
 di Gaeta, a fortified town that was taken by Charles V. when 
 he ravaged Italy. 
 
 In the citadel of this fortress the skeleton of Bourbon, 
 the constable of France, who deserted the standard of his 
 royal master, and afterward perished in the act of scaling 
 the walls of Rome, was long preserved in an open press, 
 for the amusement of idle curiosity, leaving, as was said 
 of the ferocious Swede, 
 
 ■" — —a name at which the world grew pale, 
 
 To point a moral or adorn a tale*. 
 
 But we were soon overtaken by our returning messenger 
 who brought us word that the ferry was practicable ; and 
 we willingly relinquished an excursion that would have con- 
 fined us for the night, in the dark and dirty apartments of 
 an Italian inn, to whose disgusting accommodations for 
 nocturnal repose, English travellers frequently prefer doz- 
 ing the night away in their carriages. 
 
 We were surprised to find the dreaded river not wider 
 at its mouth than Rancocas creek, the unnoticed current that 
 pours its tributary stream into the Delaware, ten miles above 
 Philadelphia, and a hundred and thirty from the sea. But 
 we had sufficient cause to be alarmed before we got over 
 the muddy torrent, in a leaky scow, so akwardly managed 
 by descendants of the ancient Romans, or their gallant 
 neighbours the people of Tarentum, that we were in great 
 danger of breaking loose, and driving out to sea. 
 
 At St. Agade, or Francolesi, the caravan was roused at 
 midnight to make up for the delay, and we might have tra- 
 velled till daylight without much apprehension, if the guard 
 had not been doubled to conduct us as far as Capua, a 
 modern town, not far from the ancient city , in which the 
 troops of Hannibal debauched themselves with the luxu- 
 ries of Italy. 
 
 This is not more than twenty miles from the capital, and 
 the interval is a continued vineyard, interspersed with fields 
 of grain and orchards of olive trees. 
 
 We entered the town toward evening, and after having 
 been sometime delayed at the dogana, we rejected the 
 lodgings to which our vettorino conducted us, under pre- 
 
 * Milton. 
 
TRAVELS THROUGH 
 
 tence that he could not find the hotel for which we had a 
 card ; bat we were ourselves refused in turn, at two or three 
 other places, and were at last glad to take shelter for the 
 night in an obscure lodging-house near the port. 
 
 LETTER XXIII. 
 
 DESCRIPTION OF NAPLES — THE BAY — THE PALACE O? 
 
 CASERTA. 
 
 .A.BOUT the origin of Naples, in Italian Napoli, f shall say 
 but little, because little is certainly known, though it is, 
 fondly ascribed to Hercules ; to. a wandring Argonaut; to 
 Grecian colonies from Athens and Chalcis. 
 
 But the Phoenicians, the circumnavigators of antiquity, 
 called it Parthenope, from its delightful situation; and 
 Augustus gave it the name of Neapolis, which it retains 
 with so little variation in the modern languages of Europe. 
 
 The beautiful bay, which is supposed to be the finest in 
 the world, unless rivelled by that of New York, or excelled 
 by that of. Constantinople, is indeed a glorious semicircle, 
 ten or fifteen miles diameter, crowned by the domes of 
 Naples, and surmounted with castles and convents, upon 
 the summits of the adjacent hills. White houses and cheer- 
 ful villages encircle the transparent waves, and at a distance 
 the promontory of Misenum, and the island of Capri, res- 
 train the turbulence of the Mediterranean.. 
 
 On the right, toward the chain of hills, through which 
 has been scooped the subterraneous passage of Pausillipo ; 
 a delightful walk skirts the shores of the bay, in the centre 
 of which has lately been placed the astonishing groupe 
 called the Tauro Farnese, which represents Amphion and 
 Zethus tying their mother to the horns of a wild bull, in 
 order to throw her with it into the sea. It originally stood 
 in the baths of Caracalla, and is mentioned by Pliny in the 
 thirty-sixth book of his .Natural History. 
 
 Within a vineyard, at the entrance of the grotto, is the 
 reputed tomb of Virgil, a misshapen pile, not unlike an 
 oven. It was formerly however overshadowed with ever- 
 greens; but the French (those monopolizers of laurels) are 
 said to have gathered them all. 
 
SWITZERLAND AND ITALY. \QQ 
 
 The passage of Pausillipo, a work of unkn°vvn antiquity 
 is very dark notwithstanding its great height, and a brladdi 
 which will admit of three or fou? carriage* at a time At 
 the end of a quarter of a mile you pass a little chaoel 
 cut into the rock in which, by tfie light of a g mmS 
 taper, a reverend hermit collects a scanty muTcTlorl 
 ^^^^ a llfG <* P«l ^Lce^ncfT 
 
 Not to him returns 
 
 --"^ iciurns 
 Day, or the sweet approach of ev'n or morn • 
 But cloud instead, and evei-during dark ' 
 burrounds him*. 
 
 He has the satisfaction, however, of considering himself 
 as the tutelar saint of the place, whose auspices p?otec?the 
 traveller from robbery and murder. The recluse gives hU 
 blessing, as farthings drop into his box, and you L soon 
 cheered with a glimpse of returning daylight, which ap- 
 pears at first sight like a brilliant sta?. The 8 light distend^ 
 itself as you advance, and you emerge from the gloom of 
 midnight into the splendour of meridian day 
 
 A strait road through continued vineyards, leads y OU 
 to the shores of Baia, where the first object that strikes^ 
 eye is the town of Puzzuoli, decayed since the age of he 
 apostles, from a great city, in which St. Paul preached on 
 his arrival from Malta. A stupendous mole yet stretches 
 into the foaming ocean with gigantic strides ; and the ruins 
 
 Beyond these interesting objects, skirting the bay to the 
 projecting promontory, may be traced tlfe vestiges of an- 
 cient villas, ho favourite retreats of Pompey and Cicero 
 withdrawing from the cares of state, to the studies of phi o- 
 sophy ; or the infamous resort of Nero or Lucullus, for the 
 gratification of gluttony and licentiousness. 
 
 Some of those ruins are now covered by the waves of 
 the bay and others are converted into stables and wine 
 cellars; but several temples yet remain, partially dilapidated 
 together with a portal of Cuma (once a noble city P t hou4' 
 now totally deserted) and the Piscina Mirabilis, {' llZfd 
 reservoir of sufficient capacity to supply the Roman fleets 
 when they rendezvoused at Misenum ' ' 
 
 Not far distant is the cave where the Cumean Sibyl uttered 
 
 * Miltau, 
 
200 
 
 TBAVELS THROUGH 
 
 her oracles, and predicted, says St. Jerome, tlie birth of 
 Christ. The river Styx, and the Stygian lake of Virgil, the 
 banks of which were his Elysian fields. The vapour baths, 
 the water of which will boil an egg in a few minutes. The 
 Solfaterra, where alum vitriol and sal-ammoniac are extracted 
 from the volcanic substances within the crater of this extin- 
 guished volcano. The Grotta del Cane, whose mephitic 
 vapour is fatal to animal life, and will extinguish a lighted 
 torch. The Pisciarelli, a rivulet of boiling water, issuing 
 from the cone of the Solfaterra, strongly impregnated with 
 alum and vitriol, the latter of which preponderates to such 
 a degree as to produce ink when mixed with galls. The 
 crator of another extinguished volcano, four or five miles 
 round, which has been wailed in for a royal park, and is well 
 stocked with stags and boars. 
 
 Scipio Africanus, when accused of peculation by an act 
 of ingratitude, perhaps characteristic of republican jealousy, 
 (since the temperate Washington has been charged with 
 official profusion) retired to the neighbouring coast, where 
 the poetEnnius amused his voluntary solitude, and Seneca, 
 the heathen moralist, long afterward defended his memory 
 from contemporary injustice.* 
 
 On the other side of this beautiful bay, five miles from 
 Naples, is Mount Vesuvius,. the celebrated volcano that has 
 alternately vomited fire and smoke, ever since the earliest 
 notices of history or tradition. 
 
 At Naples, for the first time in a European capital, I have 
 been unable to procure agreeable lodgings, those opening 
 upon the water being so crowded that I could meet with none 
 vacant to my mind. 
 
 Determined however to be within sight of the bay, 1 
 once engaged a suit of rooms near the Castello, of which we 
 took possession in the morning, but were before night so 
 heartily tired of the clanking of galley slaves frequently 
 passing by in irons from the castle, and so terrified with the 
 loneliness of our apartment, within call of nothing but the 
 very dregs of the Neapolitan populace, that we gladly paid 
 
 • " In ipsa Scipionis villa hac scribo adoratis manibus ejus et sepulchre. 
 Animum quidem ejus in coelum exquo erat rediisse persuadeo miln 
 obegreaiam moderationetn pietatemque magis in lllo adimrabilem cum 
 reliquit patriam quarn cum defendit." (I write, with veneration in that 
 very villa from which, I doubt not, the soul of Scipio returned to his native 
 sky, a hero more to be admired when he relinquished his country, than 
 when he defended it.) 
 
SWITZERLAND AND ITALY. 
 
 the forfeit of a week's advance, and returned again in the 
 evening to our old lodgings. . « _ 
 
 Excepting the great hotels upon the Chiaia, of which Eng- 
 lish travellers are so fond, the delightful borders of the most 
 beautiful bay in the world are only inhabited by fishermen 
 and lazzarone. 
 
 The latter may be seen sunning themselves in crowds, 
 under the very windows of the royal palace, where this 
 enchanting promenade begins, and its whole length is in- 
 fested with beggars that lie basking in the sun, many of 
 whom exhibit their deformities in a manner too offensive 
 to be described. Of some shocking figures t should gladly 
 discharge my wounded memory, but the impression is in- 
 delible. 
 
 In the middle of a square that fronts the Opera, defence- 
 less, on the very edge of the full drive of hurry and dissipa- 
 tion, i have seen adults lie roaring in the mud, half naked, 
 and whole families of children left sprawling upon a litter 
 of straw, to attract the notice of passengers by their continual 
 cries. 
 
 But here as well as elsewhere in European capitals, the 
 rich and great whirl rapidly by in their coaches, and leave 
 the importunities of beggars to be felt and relieved by the 
 humbler classes of society. 
 
 I am satisfied that more objects of this description might 
 be picked up in the streets of Naples than could be fur- 
 nished by all the hospitals in the United States, though 
 eleemosynary institutions are by no means wanting at 
 Naples. But police is here a court sinecure, and 
 the funds of hospitals are managed by pensioned go- 
 vernors. 
 
 Caserta, the Neapolitan rival of Versailles, is situated in 
 the Campagna Felice, sixteen miles from the capital, a 
 distance the Prince Royal makes nothing of driving at all 
 hours of day or night, preceded by half a dozen running 
 footmen, the first we have seen, this inhuman appendage 
 of royal or noble ostentation being now every where else ex- 
 ploded. I say the prince, because the king has not yet ven- 
 tured to return from Sicily, whither he withdrew on the 
 rumour of the arrival of the French. 
 
 The palace may indeed be compared to the proud resi- 
 dence of Lewis XIV. in point of size, being an oblong 
 square, seven hundred feet long, and five or six hundred wide. 
 It is divided by intermediate ranges into four courts. In the 
 
 SWITZERLAND.] C c 
 
20'2 
 
 TRAVELS THROUGH 
 
 centre is an open vestibule, in which his Sicilian majesty 
 alights under cover, at the foot of a stair-case sixty feet by 
 ninety, which lands him by double flights upon the level 
 of the state apartments in an octagonal saloon ninety feet 
 diameter, which is divided by eight marble columns into a 
 circle and surrounding gallery. On one side is the tedious 
 string of anti-chambers, leading by due degrees into halls of 
 audience, presence chambers, and state bed rooms, with 
 cabinets, wardrobes, and waiting rooms, without number • 
 on another the comfortable range of private apartments^ 
 adapted to domestic convenience; on a third the splendid 
 chapel,, not inferior in size or decoration to that of Ver- 
 sailles. 
 
 But Caserta wants the gallery, that was painted by Le 
 Brun, with the victories of Lewis, and the brilliant water- 
 works which distinguish Versailles from all the palaces upon 
 earth. r 
 
 A superb aqueduct brings a rivulet of the Apennines to 
 supply the reservoirs of Caserta. In the course of nine 
 leagues it pierces through five different spurs of the mountain, 
 and flows at a great height over intermediate vallies. 
 
 Caserta is not yet finished, and probably never will be, 
 though it has been in hand for half a century, as the situa- 
 tion is so flat as to be incapable of modern decoration ; and 
 his present majesty takes more pleasure in the neighbouring 
 mansion-house of Santa Leuce, where he amuses him- 
 self with superintending a manufactory of silks and 
 gauzes. 
 
 Retu rning late from Caserta we drove through the throng 
 of the Strada di Toledo by torch-light, expecting every 
 moment to run over the noisy crowd, which filling the 
 street from side to side opens "on the approach of a carriage, 
 and closes up again the moment it has passed with incredible 
 alertness. 
 
 At Naples every thing is done in the street. There mer- 
 chants buy and sell. There tradesmen ply their tools, the 
 blacksmith shoes his horse, and the cobler heel-taps his 
 customer. There loungers ride, or walk, or saunter to kill 
 time, or take the air. There dinners and suppers are cooked 
 and eaten, nay, such tractable animals as swine and bullocks 
 are struck or knocked on the head, in the less frequented 
 greets, where many a lazzarone makes his bed upon the 
 smoothest stone he can find. 
 
 It is said there are forty thousand of these idle vagrants 
 that live in the streets without any stationary home^ and 
 
SWITZERLAND AND ITALY. 
 
 203. 
 
 three or four times the number, a groat above beggary, 
 crowd the avenues of Naples from morning till night. With 
 them the sovereign good is to do nothing, and they only 
 work as much as is necessary to keep themselves from starv- 
 ing. A sup of Maccaroni, and a handful of roasted ches- 
 nuts, will satisfy the cravings of hunger, without resource to 
 experiments ; and accordingly a cargo of potatoes was lately 
 thrown overboard in the harbour, the good people of Naples 
 would not take them as a gift. 
 
 Upon the road to Portici, and the neighbouring villages, 
 one-horse calashes are kept for hire, by ragged drivers, and 
 so many of these are often seen driving furiously at once, 
 with two, three, four, and even five lazy raggamuffins hang- 
 ing on at a time, that I have seen whole streets look as if 
 they were flying away with rags. 
 
 The air of Naples, between the autumnal rains and the 
 .summer-heats, is perhaps the purest upon earth. It is 
 perceptibly invigorating, and may account for, though it 
 cannot excuse, the licentiousness of the Neapolitans, which 
 seems as if it might be imbibed from the surrounding atmo- 
 sphere, springing with elasticity. * 
 
 Well might Roger Ascham say, in the homely phrase- 
 ology of his age, " I take goying thither, and living there, 
 for a yonge gentleman that doth not goe under the kepe 
 and garde of such a manne as both by wisdom can, and by 
 authoritie dare rewle him, to be marvellous dangerous." 
 
 The public amusements of Naples are accordingly various 
 and splendid. The Opera house is said to exceleven that 
 of Paris, and the musical entertainments at the churches are 
 performed in the grandest style. 
 
 Dramatic enthusiasts declare that the theatre of San 
 Carlo would be, when illuminated, the most imposing scene 
 in the world, if the size of the building, and the noise of the 
 spectators, did not prevent both voices and instruments 
 from being distinctly heard. Such is at Naples the rage of 
 dissipation that it is common to receive company in the 
 boxes, to take ices, and other refreshments, and even to sup 
 and to play at cards. The dancers only command the eyes 
 and ears of an Italian audience. 
 
 The Opera girls keep their chariots upon the wages of 
 prostitution, and the carnival of Naples makes up in disso- 
 luteness anything it may want in parade, when compared to 
 those of Rome and Venice. 
 
 To see the people indulging themselves in every kind 
 of licentiousness, in which the clergy, and even the monks 
 
 e c 2 
 
204 
 
 TRAVELS THROUGH 
 
 of Naples, openly partake, you would not think they 
 were within reach of an open volcano, which could 
 sweep them all in a moment from the face of the earth. 
 
 But the populace of Naples possess a tranquillizing faith, 
 unknown to protestant communities. They can delegate 
 their lives and fortunes to the care of San Gennaro, secure 
 in the watchful protection of the saint. He is stationed 
 upon a bridge between the town and the mountain, where he 
 extends his right hand to stay the furious volcano, with a 
 look that seems to threaten it for daring to disturb the good 
 people of Naples, the worthy objects of his peculiar favour. 
 
 LETTER XXIV. 
 
 VESUVIUS — HERCULANEUM — POMPEII. 
 
 V ESU V1US since we have been in its neighbourhood has 
 only rolled out volumes of smoke, sometimes gracefully 
 mounting into the air, sometimes lowering about the crater, 
 according to the state of the atmosphere, and the direction 
 of the wind. There has been no flame since the eruption 
 of 1794,* though the mountain has been often thought to 
 threaten. 
 
 A day or two ago we rambled up its sides, as far as the 
 foot of the cone. They exhibit the most singular contrast 
 of barrenness and fertility, according to the course of the 
 torrents of lava, the intervals between which are covered 
 with chesnut-trees and vineyards, from which are made the 
 luscious wines called the Lachryma Christi and Muscadel. 
 
 At the top of the ascent, where you are still a mile and a 
 half from the crater, there was before the insurrection a 
 convent of monks, where refreshments could be procured ; 
 but it is now deserted, and the weary visitant must content 
 himself with the enchanting prospect which throws the bay 
 of Naples, with its cities and its islands, its hills and its 
 vallies, at once at his feet, bordered with a sparkling semi- 
 circle in the open sea, terminating every evening with the 
 indescribable glories of an Italian sky. 
 
 We approached the crater, a hill of ashes and pumice 
 stones in the shape of a cone, half a mile in diameter, and 
 
 * Our author is here under a slight mistake; he has probably never heard 
 of the eruption which took place in November 1804, at the time Kotzebue 
 was at Naples; and which is so interestingly described in the fourth Volume 
 of this work. Ed, 
 
SWITZERLAND AND ITALY. 0()5 
 
 five hundred feet high, near enough to hear the great pot 
 boil; the continual bubbling of the liquid lava produc- 
 ing a sound that exactly resembles the boiling of a cauldron 
 i*ut as this conical hill cannot be ascended without ex- 
 cessive fatigue, from sinking every step half leg deep in 
 ashes, hot enough to scorch a pair of boots; and Ss we had 
 nad an account of the present situation of the mouth of the 
 crater from a French gentleman who had descended into it 
 the day before, we suffered curiosity to press us no fur- 
 tnei, and amused ourselves with tracing across the sub- 
 jacent country the various currents of lava with which 
 tertile valhes have been desolated, and nourishing cities 
 overwhelmed. 43 
 
 Toward Midsummer 1794, Vesuvius had ceased to vomit 
 either tire or smoke, a circumstance which generally pre- 
 sages an eruption j and at half past three o^cfock on the 
 morning of the 13th of July, the inhabitants of the foot of 
 the mountain were suddenly alarmed with a shock, like that 
 
 JeaZ ea " h T ke - T his terri ^ in S stroke ™ thrice re- 
 £hp?J \u ? 6 ? pIe ,mmediat ely fled into their gardens, 
 
 pectaUon^ P iemain der of the night in anxious ex- 
 
 r,3T\ m ? Vnm§ n ° thin « was to be seen M Naples but 
 Sn i P ,ocess,ons of men,- women, and children, 
 
 oft^nl^ 10 Cathedial t0 impl ° ,e the P 10tectl0 » 
 For the next three days the weather was tempestuous, and 
 the air loaded with vapours, with which, together with rlouds 
 crashes, it was sometimes supernatural^ darkened ; and dur- 
 ing this terrific interval several slighter shocks were felt, 
 attended with rumbling noises, like distant thunder; when 
 about two o clock on the morning of the 17th there 
 was heard an explosion so loud and long, that it could 
 only be compared to a continual discharge of heavy cannon • 
 and a torrent of flaming lava was seen to burst from the 
 western side of the crater, and pour down the sides of the 
 mountain in various directions. 
 
 The principal stream, a mile in width, bent its destructive 
 course toward Torre del Greco, a town of fifteen or twemy 
 thousand people situated upon the bay, ten miles from 
 Naples, and five from the crater of Vesuvius. 
 
 A col umn of dense smoke now ascended from the orifice 
 in the shape of a cylinder, out of which darted in every direc- 
 tion immense stones jn a state of ignition, producing the 
 
206 TRAVELS THROUGH 
 
 effect of forked lightnings, as they were impelled, with ino 
 sistible violence, to a distance of several miles. 
 
 The fiery lava swept every thing before it, and in less 
 than three hours overwhelmed Tone del Greco, and tumbled 
 into the sea with a horrible explosion, of which some idea 
 may be formed from the violent effects produced by the eon- 
 tact of water with red-hot iron. 
 
 The sea hissed with a noise like that of the sharpest thun- 
 der, and the lava, curling itself up, as if sensible to the touch 
 of the adverse element, instantly petrified into undescnbable 
 crimps andjags. . 
 
 The vivid reflection of this fiery torrent illuminated the 
 city of Naples till the dawn of day, and the furious concus- 
 sion of the jarring elements continued all the next morning, 
 and raised a. ragged mole in the bay a quarter of a mile 
 square. , 
 
 This dreadful explosion had been awfully preceded by 
 a sudden flow of the sea, probably occasioned by the 
 impetuous rush that would naturally follow an abrupt 
 absorption of its waters in the cavities of the mountain, 
 which are supposed to run under the bed of the bay. 
 
 Such an accident would have been sufficient to cause 
 the instantaneous ejection of the liquid fire then boiling in 
 the bowels ot the volcano, by whose fearful contact the tre- 
 mendous thunder with which it was accompanied might well 
 have been produced. 
 
 The surface of the boiling liquid gradually hardened as it 
 cooled, about the mouth of the orifice, from which it had 
 issued, and soon formed a crust of pumice and lava over the 
 unfathomable pit, through the interstices of which the crater 
 has continued to smoke ever since. 
 
 The French gentleman before mentioned, in company 
 with two or three other inquisitive foreigners, actually 
 descended to this false bottom, and examined the smoking 
 crannies of the platform that conceals the boiling gulph, 
 whilst their trembling guides protested against their presump- 
 tion, and on their kness invoked St. Anthony, the catholic 
 guardian against fire, for the preservation of their adventur- 
 ous charge. 
 
 Our fellow traveller brought away with him a large lump 
 of cristallized salts, that he had himself picked out 
 of the principal orifice, the air of which, fuming from 
 beneath a volcanic rock, was hot enough to singe his 
 h:ur. 
 
SWITZERLAND AND ITALY. %Q 7 
 
 Torre del Greco now exhibits an appearance little W 
 curious than Herculaneum or Pompeii, iifany of the houses 
 T e f cavated ^ <™d others rebuilt upon the same snot 
 
 though the lava continued warm in some placed fTseveTai 
 yeais, ana his Sicilian majesty had offered the inhabitants \s 
 much ground in another place, to induce them to rebu Id the 
 town m a less dangerous situation. 
 
 beenblown 8 ,^ f hiS 7 me f ° r . mer eru P tion ™ *M to have 
 been blown as far as Constantinople, to the ff reat terror of 
 he superstitious Turks; aud it is certain that a month before 
 the memorable one I have just described, while 
 was disgorging stones and fire at its anc ent vomitory a 
 dense cloud was seen at Radicofani, comina from^e" 
 south-east, the direction of Vesuvius (two hnrfdrpd m u 
 distant) from which there fell a shower o^hetn^l"^ 
 
 Du 
 
 during an eruption which took place in the year 15*9 n 
 new hill arose in the vicinity, to the height of 60C feet a'nd 
 many of the mountains between Rome alid Naples are > "id 
 to discover traces of a similar origin. P * 
 
 1 he eruption which overwhelmed Herculaneum md 
 
 is aescnbed by Plmy and other ancient authors, 
 bince then several other eruptions have taken 
 
 as appeals by the various laminse which have been form/rf 
 one upon another over the site of Herculaneum * 
 j2';T d other ancie "t abhors, speak of this as a great 
 m^te'mSjy? ^ M Alex -drian chronicle me n ! 
 Trov Dion r g been fl built J slxt J years before the siege of 
 noy. JJion Cassius thus describes its destruction whirh 
 
 o en!" it e r nth of A i ugnst - (< An ^K^Sg 
 
 o cindeis filled the air, and covered the earth and the sea 
 
 cities wbtf; Z rz ers of ashes entirel ^ bu,,ied ^o 
 
 tines, while their inhabitants were seated in the thf»itrp«' 
 an^cmders were carried by the wind as farlVthe co^ of 
 
 calleTilrt'e?!; T^T" theS " eof Herculaneiini, since 
 wuiep I oitici, and now the summer res dence of his Sicilian 
 
 "ny taie, when a peasant, sinking a well in the vear I7ii 
 came aeross several blocks of mafble. These bei^ wanted 
 
 in \t CO ™ POS, L ion ° f Stlicco > f0f ^ palace then%uS 
 the neighbourhood by the prince d'JSl Bceuf, hi. high? ■ 
 
208 TRAVELS THROUGH 
 
 ness purchased of the peasant a right to search for more, and 
 in so doing restored to light a statute ot Hercules and an- 
 other of Cleopatra. . wl , pn 
 
 This success induced him to produce with ardom, when 
 seven Roman vestals, and forty-eight alabaster columns, 
 were the reward of his labour. ■ " . 
 
 Such acquisitions were viewed by the admmis jration 
 With I jealous eye, and the prince was commanded to 
 
 d t S was not till the year 1736, when Don Carlos became 
 king of Naples, and purchased the newly erected palace, that 
 ^subterranean city was discovered, «"^r the r^oyal d .ec- 
 tion, together with the bed of a river which had once run 
 
 ,h A tfmple of Jupiter was soon cleared out, and the amphi- 
 theatre completely excavated. ..„,... ,:l 
 
 Great numbers of statues, paintings, and ancient utensils, 
 were now discovered, and carefully deposited in the 
 of Portici; yet the number of workmen employed by the 
 crown was gradually reduced, and the excavations have been 
 lono- since totally discontinued. , , . : t • 
 
 fhe most considerable edifice discovered during this 
 interval was a forum, or rectangular court, ^^r^et 
 long, encompassed with porticos. It was paved with maible, 
 and adorned with paintings. 
 
 In the grand entrance, composed of five ai cades, were as 
 many equestrian statues, two of which are now presei ved m 
 the vestibule of the palace * . 
 
 At the opposite end, upon an elevation of three steps, was 
 a statue of Vespasian, between two sitting figures, in cuiulc 
 
 Ch This superb forum was connected with two temples by ad- 
 
 ^^cit^? terculaneum has been buried by succe.ive 
 showers of ashes, and floods of lava, to the depth of sixty ox 
 eighty feet. Its subterranean excavations can tbeietore 
 only be seen by the light of flambeaux, which must be held 
 up Yo the dripping wall to display the fresco pa.ntmgs and 
 dedicatory inscriptions, which in musty cavities, lor ever 
 
 * These are the only equestrian statues W hich have yet been discovered, 
 in marble. One of them was inscribed : 
 
 M. NONIO M. F. BALBO PR. PRO. COS. HERCULANENSEO. 
 
 (Erected, by the people of Herculaneum, to Marcus, Nonius, Balbus, 
 ♦f Marcus, procurator and proconsul.) 
 
SWITZERLAND AND ITALY. 
 
 hidden, from the face of day, preserve for modern eyes 
 the obsolete language of ancient Rome. 
 
 Pompeii on the contrary, an inland town on the other 
 side of the mountain, having only been covered hy a fall 
 of ashes fifteen or twenty feet deep, the removal of which 
 has again exposed the buried streets and houses to the open 
 air, exhibits to the astonished eye the entire skeleton of a 
 departed city, whose solitary passages one ventures to tread 
 with a surprise mixed with horror, like that which is in- 
 spired by the idea of an apparition rising from the dead. 
 
 In the suburbs of the town are seen the soldiers' quarters, 
 with Roman names and obscene figures scratched upon the 
 walls, two thousand years ago, in the very style of a mo- 
 dern guard-house ; the platform and proscenia of two 
 theatres, from which we may presume the Roman legions 
 to have been no less addicted to their public shews, than 
 the French troops now are to their "spectacles;" and an 
 entire plan of a Temple of Isis, with the ccenabulum, in 
 which were found the bones of some fish, the slaughter- 
 house, with the very ring to which the struggling victim 
 was attached, and the channel by which the blood was con- 
 veyed away, the corner into which the priests squeezed them 
 selves when they spoke for the oracular statue, and the se- 
 cret stairs by which they went up into the " Sanctum 
 Sanctorum." 
 
 Here were' found candelabrae, sacrificial instruments, 
 and human skeletons, probably those of priests, deprecat- 
 ing the vengeance of their gods at the time of the erup- 
 tion. 
 
 In the guard-house, iron stocks were found, with skele- 
 tons standing in them, and you are still shewn the impres- 
 sion of a flying foot which had sunk in yielding lava. 
 
 From the suburb you cross a vineyard to the town itself, 
 through the principal street of which runs the pavement 
 of the Appian Way. 
 
 On descending to the ancient surface, you behold two 
 narrow streets, diverging obliquely from a public fountain. 
 
 The. pavement, worn into ruts by the wheels of ancient 
 cars, and the footways, raised as they now are in Eng- 
 lish and American towns once sullied with the litter of 
 continual passengers, now appear bleached by wind and rain. 
 
 Neither of these streets is more than fifteen feet in width, 
 and the carriage way is not above ten, yet there was room 
 enough for two of the ancient cars to pass at a time, the 
 tracks of which are but four feet asunder. 
 
 SWITZERLAND. D d 
 
TRAVELS THROUGH 
 
 You contemplate with serious reflections, rows of houses, 
 now unroofed and silent as the grave, once the cheerful 
 habitations of Roman citizens; and as you pass along by 
 the gaping doors and windows, you perceive the stain of 
 a heated cup on the front slab of a tavern, and the inde- 
 cent emblem of licentiousness over the entrance of a 
 brothel. 
 
 On entering into some of the houses you still read 
 upon their thresholds, in large letters, wrought in black 
 and white mosaic, of which all the floors are constructed, 
 the " salve" that welcomed the guests of antiquity ; and 
 perceive upon the walls, by the help of a little water to 
 freshen the colours, the ornamental devices of ancient in- 
 genuity. 
 
 The finest specimens, however, are nothing more than 
 small sketches of figures or landscapes, with Arabesque 
 borders, representing for instance, Venus attired by the 
 Graces ; Cupid playing on the tibia ; a dancing Bacchante; 
 fighting Gladiators; a temple ; an altar, with a cock, for a 
 sacrifice to iEsculapius ; a Roman villa; fish j game; 
 flowers, &ct 
 
 The houses are generally very small, yet some of them 
 are built round a court, which had a fountain in the 
 middle. 
 
 The windows were mostly closed with wooden shutters, 
 yet some few of them had glass in them, which was not 
 perfectly transparent, and others were shaded with isin- 
 glass split into thin plates. 
 
 In one of the houses were found chirurgical instruments, 
 and manuscript rolls ; the utensils now used by soap boil- 
 ers were found in another. 1 11 one of the courts was the 
 iron-work of a calash, which must have been exactly like 
 those now used at Naples, though the modern Neapolitans 
 have forgotton the use of footways. 
 
 Passing through the main street to the walls of the 
 town you see beyond the houses a court, containing a broad 
 flat stone for the burning of the dead, round which are 
 still seen upon the wall enormous masks of "terra cotta," 
 with mournful countenances. 
 
 Here also are several family tombs, one of which is in- 
 scribed with the name of its founder, and the laconic in- 
 cription, 
 
 SIBI ETSUIS.* 
 
 *-For him and his. 
 
SWITZERLAND AND ITALY. 
 
 211 
 
 Farther on is a semicircular bench for repose or conver- 
 sation ; and a sentry box for the city guard remains just 
 within the town gate. 
 
 Another cleared spot in the neighbourhood exhibits a 
 complete specimen of an ancient villa. 
 
 The whole plan of the house, its out-houses, its gardens, 
 and its fish pond may he accurately traced : the kitchen 
 and the bath-house are almost entire, with their boilers and 
 tunnels, vet fit for use, and the cellars still contain earthen 
 jars with wine encrusted to ashes. 
 
 From the principal floor of this villa, a terrace projects 
 on each side, under which runs a gallery, and other apart- 
 ments for summer residence, in one of which was found, 
 the skeleton of the master, with the house-key and a purse 
 
 of gold. ' . 
 
 Pompeii appears to have been itself chiefly built and 
 and paved with lava. It was not buried so deep but that 
 the battlements of the houses remained above the surface, 
 and pointed by their crumbling pinnacles to the scene of 
 destruction : yet it was not till the year 1750 that it was 
 thought worth while to search into the ruins, when the 
 parts above described were easily cleared of the loose soil, 
 with which they had been so long concealed, and displayed 
 the shocking spectacle of those who had been buried alive 
 in burnine; cinders. , 
 
 Skeletons were found heaped together in the houses and 
 in the streets, and the untasted food of the suffocated inha- 
 bitants was still discernible upon their tables. 
 
 At the royal palace of Portici, are preserved the innu- 
 merable objects of curiosity, which have been drawn from 
 Herculaneum and Pompeii. ■ 
 
 Thcv are nrranged in long strings of rooms paved with 
 ancient mosaics, ornamented with ancient frescos, and fur- 
 nished with every article of domestic utility, known to the 
 Romans. In one of them are seen the culinary utensils, 
 which are scarcely exceeded by the inventions ot modern 
 rehneme n t. 
 
 In another, instruments of husbandry, sufficiently prov- 
 ing bv their resemblance to those now in use, that human 
 ingenuity, as well as animal instinct, operates universally 
 similar ends by similar means. ; 
 
 In another are preserved sacrificial and chirurgical in- 
 d d % 
 
TRAVELS THROUGH 
 
 struments, among which the lancet " that favourite imple- 
 ment of some modern practitioners," is observed to be 
 wanting; scales and weights, steel-yards, Sic. like those 
 now in use; nails, screws, locks, keys, latches, hinges, 
 bolls, &c. 
 
 In another, lamps, lachrymatories, Etruscan vases, and 
 caledaria, with heaters, which are said to have first sug- 
 gested the idea of tea urns. 
 
 In another, eatables, retaining their original shape, such 
 as corn, flour, bread, a pie in its pan, peas, beans, nuts, 
 almonds, grapes, figs, dates, wine, oil, fish and eggs; 
 lace, linen, nets, helmets and coats of mail, swords and 
 shields. 
 
 The scrolls of papyras, containing ancient manuscripts, 
 of which there are near a thousand, are preserved with 
 particular care. They have been consolidated by heat and 
 moisture into hard rolls. 
 
 A few of them, however, have been unfolded by a tedi- 
 ous process ; but instead of the lost books of Livy or Po- 
 ly bins, they preserve nothing but uninteresting treatises 
 upon music, rhetoric, and theology ; and only two of these 
 manuscripts, undoubtedly the most ancient now extan^, 
 have been thought worth publishing to the world. 
 
 The scrolls are in a state of calcination, as if just drawn 
 out of an oven ; but their being written on one side only, 
 admits of gluing the leaves to a thin pellicle, upon which 
 they are gradually unrolled. 
 
 Among the statues found here there is nothing very ex- 
 traordinary in point of art, and some of them are too inde- 
 cent and immoral to be publicly exposed. 
 
 In the gardens of the palace of Portici, there are* swings 
 and wooden horses fixed upon round-abouts, such as de- 
 light the populace at English fairs, They are here erected for 
 the particular amusement of the Court ; and on holidays 
 the people flock from Naples in crowds, to see the grown 
 gentlemen divert themselves with this masculine amuse- 
 ment. 
 
 We were yesterday at the Palazzo degli Studi Publici, an 
 immense edifice, in which are preserved the anticjue sta- 
 tues inherited from the house of Farnese, many of which 
 are exquisitly fine. 
 
 Th ere is the famous Hercules, of equivocal merit ; the 
 Flora, of indisputable elegance; a head of Homer, of the 
 most venerable sublimity ; and a falling Gladiator, whose 
 
SWITZERLAND AND ITALY, 213 
 
 attitude is so impressed with fainting weakness, that you 
 approach the pedestal with caution, for fear the statue 
 should actually fall. 
 
 We have not seen the three doric temples of Peestum the 
 ancient Possidonia, which have lately risen into notice from 
 the midst of Calabrian thickets; nor the Phrygian caps 
 and Grecian veils of the peasants, who preserve, in the 
 little island of Procida, all the peculiarities of a Grecian 
 colony ; neither have we visited a tenth part of the churches 
 and convents of this catholic city. 
 
 Yet, to-morrow we return to Rome, by the same tardy 
 conveyance, which experience has taught us to prefer in 
 Italy to any other. 
 
 LETTER XXV. 
 
 RETURN TO ROM E.— CANOV A . VOLP ATO. EXCURSION TO 
 
 TIVOLI. 
 
 iilTTLE occurred worth mentioning between Naples 
 and Rome. Our only companion in the coach was an Italian 
 lady, who spoke no language but her mother-tongue/ and 
 we found ourselves, for the first time, reduced toandiculous 
 dilemma, of hearing without understanding, and speaking 
 without being understood. a 
 The lady, however, though a married woman, on the 
 wrong side of forty, soon found a cisisbeo in one of the 
 other coaches, who was always at the door to hand her 
 out and in. 
 
 At night he was her valet de chambre, in the morning 
 her hair dresser ; in short that amphibious animal, indispen- 
 sible to the helplessness of an Italian fine lady ; and to his 
 obsequious attentions I willingly resigned her. 
 
 At the wretched inns upon the respective frontiers, tra- 
 vellers are incommoded by the unfriendliness of the neigh- 
 bouring states, neither of whose inhabitants will receive the 
 current coin of the other beyond the boundary line, which 
 separates the good catholics of the kingdom of Naples 
 from those of the patrimony of St. Peter. 
 
 After leaving the noisy crowd of Naples, it seemed like 
 going into the country, to return to the monastic quietude 
 
214 TRAVELS THROUGH 
 
 ttmne and we were happy to find our old lodgings still 
 vaoit an" o« affectionifflandlord and mswiie ready to 
 
 reC ^' e US nt a ^ ^™day to the work-shop of 
 We went with "^ ml " e * nn lv statuary that modern 
 Canova, cunous to bebo d the o b ^.J^ 
 
 rSrCknowa a^strf Z Venus de Medicis, and the 
 
 a Sive of Venice, wi| intelligent teatures, s.ngula.ly 
 m ild and unassuming .irokes to a figure of 
 
 ^tiisf v h Tp:;r oaels antiq y ' 
 
 W hich now grace t«e gjy o ^" bust 0 f Washington, 
 I asked him if he could make je a confining l m , 
 
 the regions of »dea^beauty. the bgst 
 
 Jfl ^te^e^ dea?h of Phanesi, the local 
 § raVer l.t seems o have been formed among the moni, 
 
 :t s » tbera ^ betoie they crum 1 
 
 dust, ^a^!^^^ he could yet be pleased 
 
 Volpato is s"^ 61 ^ 11 ". ^^"i^n visitor. His pnnci- 
 
 With fhe ^P^^ -^SS of Raphael and 
 pal Performances ^ef.omu ^ mr b best 
 
 the landscapes of C Ui de P o ^ loyed upon 
 
 adapted to I think Irom the 
 
 yesterday, on 
 * I strolled to the Tivoli the a y ^ ^ 
 
 foot, and alone, to be w&cVJ ]q (a§ ^ ia ^enomi- 
 plate the beaut.es of the Jg*£ y ^ ounded ruins of the 
 Ued by common fe^W J^J ■ £, wretched town , 
 V illa of Adrian, ^W|| tteI than Indian wg- 
 S£ V tether, in streets narrow and 
 
SWITZERLAND AND ITALY. OJ 5 
 
 Campagna di Romaj t |, e g?d Latium, at the disease 
 ot fi teen or eighteen- miles from Rome'. It wa S 
 five : hundred years before the days of Romulu" yet t 
 
 The Consular road which still leads to it, was once bor- 
 dered with magnificent sepulchres, of which shaoele s 
 ruins yet remain. *"ipeiebs 
 
 About twelve miles from Rome there is a volcanic lake 
 from which bituminous and sulphureous vapours, constantly 
 
 l^t' M r r th K G Vichlit ^ ««hinhabitable\o man or 
 beast. xMaterial substances condense in its petrifying 
 waters, and floating islands are often formed upon* thf 
 surface, of compacted reeds and bulrushes. P 
 
 1 wo miles farther, you cross the Anio, or Teverone, by 
 the Lucanian bridge, so called from a victory which th£ 
 followers of Romulus there gained over the ancient Luca! 
 
 11 IlLUS. 
 
 This bridge was repaired by Tiberius Plautius, perhaps 
 the sane that accompanied the Emperor Claudiuson his 
 
 bis Pe fauX tdf " a ' n ; C '° Seb y it i3the "oble toiDb of 
 rf • S'. ,, , r ° Und tower » nearly resemblino- ihat of 
 Cecilia Metella already described, which lo^elher ;vid. 
 the bridge of a single arch, forms one of tho S„ r e n„i 
 objects, which furnish ample materiik fij .1? • *. q 
 arts in the neighbourhood Rome lm " atVe 
 
 shadowed by branching KSgSS&S **%X 
 soil. tJut the road leads vou to Tivnli an A , Srt »"y 
 
 sffiE?? witho , u ; "„ £22 Tt 
 
 Ferrara, another illustrious patron of ?he m, t u * 
 name is handed down with the works of Aiiosto ^ 
 
 Between these you pass up the hill of Tivoli anrl ;„ 
 quire your way, through blind D assa MS anrf J !, i 
 
o\Q TRAVELS THROUGH 
 
 The temple of Vesta, commonly called the Sibyl's tem- 
 ple, from the cave of Sibylla Tiburtina, which still exists 
 not far from it, under the disguise of a church, was once 
 a hollow cone, a shape symbolical of the universe, 
 twenty feet diameter, and as many high, terminating in 1a 
 dome, and surrounded with eighteen fluted columns, ot the 
 Corinthian order, that formed a circular colonnade around 
 the secret cell, in which the holy fire was kept alive by 
 spotless virgins, devoted like the nuns of modern supersti- 
 tion to perpetual virginity. '■ ' 4 \. 
 
 The inner side of this venerable edifice has been torn 
 away by ruffian violence, for time and nature respected the 
 well" proportioned mass. The dome has fallen in, and seven 
 or eight prostrate columns have been removed for the do- 
 mestic* purposes of a neighbourhood, which has no venera- 
 tion for the legacies of antiquity. . 
 
 But the outer semicircle of the cone, with its concomi- 
 tant columns, connected with it by single slabs ot niaibie, 
 which forms at once the frieze of the entablature, hung 
 with festoons of flowers, attached to the horns or saciiticiai 
 heifers, and the flat ceiling of the portico, richly wrought in 
 figured compartments, remain for the admiration or suc- 
 cessive ages, as one of the most beautiful specimens ot 
 the majestic graces of Grecian architecture. 
 
 Upon the overhanging brow of a ledge of ™cks, wmn 
 
 * . .° ° . U^tUor uiPlVPfl IlOUl 
 
 into 
 
 caverns by an incessant cataract, whether viewed horn 
 the eager proximity of close examination, or the halt con- 
 cealing distance of picturesque effect, perched upon the 
 summit of a perpendicular precipice, foaming wit the 
 spray of a furious cascade, the beauteous rums soar above 
 the. yawning gulph, like the hall of Satan, rising by poetic 
 incantation, over the fathomless abyss. 
 
 The three grades of Grecian architecture, the .Done, tnc 
 Ionic, and the Corinthian, for the Tuscan and the Compo- 
 site are Roman modulations of those sublime and cbabte 
 originals, had received the fixed proportions of unc ^"S e ; 
 able perfection soon after the earliest dates of p otane 
 history; yet in comparison with the elegance ot a ^cian 
 temple, the pyramids of Memphis, and ■teW&S* 
 Pekin, must rank alike among the tasteless efforts ot J»m 
 barian strength.* 
 
 * I say nothing of the temple of Belus, supposed 
 of the wills of Babylon, which notwithstanding the , au j hollt y ^ te G 'X 
 historians, the earliest of whom wrote his V^jf^^J^ w 
 doubtful masses had fallen to the earth, could hardly have been so long, so 
 
SWITZERLAND AND ITALY. 0,7 
 
 orderst i ffifi*£ ffit^ ° f 
 
 was mistress of th wo Id and of ,h ° when she 
 
 modern £ ur ope vvhich i^. / 6 P ol,shed empires of 
 
 of civilization? ' °° W u P on pinnacle. 
 
 is the grotto of NepS 'a ri 
 
 recesses the various effects of Ifet and had, 
 
 illness, are infinitely contrasted" ^ T"* au « 
 
 lhey are said to have been the frequent resort of CU a 
 Lorraui, Sa valor Rosa d 4 . ,. res01 6 °* Uaude 
 
 favourites of nature tit %\ ' P ° USS,n > Y einet , and other 
 painting. the 1 homson8 and ^ Gray's of 
 
 Jl^ough twining brakes/and dS cteTt^ i"^'^ 
 headlong shoot • 1 0 Ctlve,ns > to its last 
 
 surface til. it was in™, ved ^'owij™ ,, * 
 
 Wteetf rflwf ^ * 6 mi "-'' aCe that has turned the 
 nneels ot the iron and copper-works near Tivnli k V 
 
 mto the grand arcade, and tiding WytShL'^ 
 supplanted the A^v^O^Sh^S ^ ? M ^ Pereiao frKS 
 
TRAVELS THROUGH 
 
 818 ~ . t 
 
 & hundred feet to*-^*? ^ the endless de- 
 S^nit^ightamuse a curiLs observer, tor days or 
 %Yert *e great ^fe"^^^ 
 
 Sara — ?* 
 
 the seats of the spectators. of ^ 
 
 There are J"thia o, he elu.ition of sea-fights; 
 theatres, of a Nauoiacnia to . ball)s _ 
 
 a Hippodrome, a gymna mm, an I pubfic I ^ 
 
 In the centre was the ™P«^\*£^ t oceW<»< hundred 
 high, anditisstdlsnrronndedu.d thccen o c , 
 
 chambers of i'H/jH^SSS U withdrawn 
 
 5 prevent i»»'«^^SMrib«a, -'■= Ubrary, 
 the^S.' ' fof 'SnTc'al IS /and the hail of the stores, 
 
 Around them, in vaiiu f & r>; onn ^ 0 f Seranis, an ima- 
 
 more supcvslitious R«i»» beautiful frescos and 
 
 ornaments ot rtnce»..yev. innumerable statues, vases, 
 Wing ruins h«e-hW «g »»« 'J ™iTperial luxury, which 
 
 so -he ^saSKS 
 
 Hodfef oTXom X" oUr't $2$ in the ready 
 
 Quinttlms Varus. , j} a ,. at ies Flac- 
 
 Tcn miles above 1 .yob, was the fa » » «ftite 
 cus , so often hjnjed - tm .1 E ^tlonging to the 
 poets. It s now one o ^ more 
 
 D»ca, count Women, the 
 
SWITZERLAND AND ITALY. 
 
 219 
 
 duke de Bracciano, and three or four more, belonging to 
 the prince Borghese, adorn the beautiful slopes of frescati. 
 But it will not be worth while to go three miles out of my 
 way to see them, as Italian villas, laid out in the English 
 taste, are puerile to those of England; and palaces in the 
 fonrml style, are totally eclipsed by the statues, the vases, 
 the fountains, and the trellises of Versailles, and Fontaine- 
 bleau. 
 
 I saw the sun go down upon the crumbling walls of trie 
 villa of Adrian y and, at ten o'clock at night, as I sit in a 
 large room, scantily furnished, and hung round with the 
 scrawls of wandering travellers, I hear the roar of the 
 Anio, and my windows rattle with the rising blast, that 
 whistles through the shattered columns of the temple of 
 Vesta. 
 
 It reminds me that I am alone; five thousand miles from 
 inv own fire-side. 
 
 The thought is serious ; it stops my rambling pen. 
 
 Farewell. 
 
 LETTER XXVI. 
 
 OBSEQUIES OF PIUS VI — FOLLIES OF THE CARNIVAL. 
 
 The time was now come when the wish of our landlord, 
 who marked with pleasure my attention to the ceremonies 
 of the church, could be innocently gratified with an oppor- 
 tunity to shew his guests the splendid functions of a papal 
 funeral. 
 
 The body of Pius VI. had been craved of the hero of 
 Marengo, and granted by that obedient son of the church, 
 at the request of his spiritual father. 
 
 The funeral convoy "had been long delayed, by the offici- 
 ous zeal of the towns within the patrimony of St. Peter. They 
 had vied with each other in celebrating, over and over 
 again, the soothing ceremonies of which the venerated body 
 had been deprived at its actual inhumation. 
 
 It was not till within four days of the unholy period of 
 the carnival, that the hearse and its attendants arrived in 
 the vicinity of Rome, where •> little chapel had been fitted 
 up for its reception, without the Porta del Popolo. There 
 it was lodged for the night, and continual masses were 
 
 E e 2 
 
£20 
 
 TRAVELS THROL'Gfl 
 
 said over it, by officiating priests, who relieved each other 
 in turn. 
 
 It was visited in the evening incognito, by those cardi- 
 nals who owed to the defunct their elevation to the sacred 
 college, and it would have been surrounded by all the 
 populace of Rome, if the gate had not been kept shut, 
 and nobody permitted to pass without the consent of the 
 captain of the guard. 
 
 This permission I obtained, among others, and on drawing 
 the curtain of the chapel, 1 beheld upon the floor a scarlet 
 pall, surmounted by the triple crown. 
 
 Next day all the clergy of Rome, except the living pope, 
 and the members of the sacred college, assembled in the 
 three churches of the square within the Porta del Popolo. 
 
 At the appointed hour, the various orders of monks and 
 canons, in their respective habits, set out in procession for 
 St. Peter's, holding in their hands lighted tapers, and chant- 
 ing with united voices a funeral dirge. 
 
 The body followed, under an ample pall of cloth of gold, 
 pn which was placed the papal crown, supported by all 
 the nobility of I he Roman State. The cardinals that had 
 been created by the deceased pope followed on horseback, 
 in mourning cloaks, as the children of the spiritual Father, 
 The papal troops brought up the rear, with their arms 
 clubbed, and their drums muffled, beating the dead march. 
 
 After having seen the procession from our windows in 
 the Corso, I hastily crossed the empty streets to the Ponte 
 Sesto, and approaching the cathedral by the suburb of 
 Transterere, had a picturesque view from the opposite quay, 
 pf the scarlet pall, slowly crossing the bridge of St. Angelo, 
 under the fire ot\ minute guns from the castle, and the 
 solemn tolling of the great bell of St. Peter's. 
 
 On its arrival within the portico of the church, the fold- 
 ing doors were thrown open, and the reigning pope, in epis- 
 copal vestments, attended by the sacred college, advanced 
 from a side chapel to receive the reliques of his predecessor. 
 
 A solemn intonation from the papal band, accompanied 
 the body to the upper end of the nave, where it was lodged 
 for the night in the chapel of the choir. 
 
 Next morning the coffin, covered with cloth of gold, and 
 surmounted by the tiara, having been placed upon a funeral 
 pile, thirty feet square, anc[ as'many high, was illuminated 
 with a thousand lights ; and at ten o'clock the catholic cere- 
 pionies^ for the y^ppse of the dead, were as jealously repeated 
 
SWITZERLAND AND ITALY. r>nl 
 l bus the body lay in state three days, the same ceremonip* 
 
 where a superb monument is to bJ erected to hi/ 
 The body of the unfortunate Pius was scsifcM ««J*f f 
 fi "^or lw v,„ e ' U ' 0US carnival, when 
 
 in ^he 1 CoTso ni Iv g hi h " ,e ' aSt - eight d "J» lhm i^horse-race 
 >n we ^oiso, which an antiquarian mieht venerate »f 5 
 l ehque of the ancient games of ,l, e Circus or *L H- 
 
 turned by ai^^SSS^ ~- 
 
 by pee,?„ s at tlo^l * 00 p d ' Stmgl " Sh in the CI0 ^ 
 
 sturdy T Wi ' h repetili ° n ' »M« « 
 
 tatters of a fimle viuf ,! n , ' m the ra S s an d 
 habitual beg^y ^K^'ife , We " k "°™ ^ok of 
 
 hshmen remark with conscious sunerio,- , v 5™* ?Ij t0 , a Second - E »8- 
 4 English miles has been com pie E ! 2' f ~ Newma,ket the course ff 
 of 50 feet to a second S2 f hatl 7 mit '"tes, which is upwards 
 
 abuse of tte^bSt Jflw^l" 0 '^ ! h0,, f ht t0 SanCti0n this ba CS 
 lft|! service of man? ' W ** h volu »^y attach themselves* 
 
002 TRAVELS THROUGH 
 
 children starving at home," she entreated the charity of all 
 "ood Christians, " in the name of the blessed Virgin, and the 
 £oly souls in purgatory." 
 
 Amid the general confusion, the unguarded stare ot a 
 gapin°- bystander was now and then suddenly alarmed with 
 the report of a cracker: but the harlequins, the scaramou- 
 ches, the punchinellos, and the pantaloons were%ll m the 
 sullens. They had been bound over to their good behaviour 
 \>y the prohibition of masks, a disguise too dangerous to be 
 permitted in this age of revolutions. 
 
 Simple dominos were fain to stagger along as drunkards, 
 to hobble onwards under the affectation of some personal 
 deformity, or in women's cloaths to mince over the 
 ^utters, with the officious assistance of a dwarf gallant. 
 
 On the last evening, as soon as the race is over, an expi- 
 atory mass is said in the church of Jesus, and next morning 
 begin the forty days of lent, which precede the ceremonies or 
 Jiaster. 
 
 During this holy time it is unlawful to eat flesh without 
 permission, but a general dispensation was now published at 
 Rome, I know not for what reason, and sermons were 
 preached to the people in many of the churches. I was soon 
 weary of the rory faces and violent contorsions of monkish 
 oratory, to which an Italian devotee pays unremitted atten- 
 tion. A Tillotson would lull him to sleep. 
 
 The other evening I rambled for exercise or amusement 
 up the hill of Monte Cavallo, to the beautiful though 
 irregular square of the pontifical palace. One side ot it is 
 formed by the summer residence of the popes, another by 
 the apostolical datary, a superb edifice, erected for the public 
 offices, but now converted into lodgings for the horse- 
 euards. The third side is occupied by the stables, at a 
 respectable distance, below the proud elevation upon which 
 Paul V. placed the celebrated Castor and Pollux of the baths 
 of Constantine, though the statues are in many respects un- 
 worthy of being ascribed to Phidias and Praxiteles, upon the 
 faith of a modern inscription. The fourth side overlooks the 
 town, being open to the western horizon, and it displays a 
 distant view of the dome of St. Peter's, which was now illu- 
 minated by the sitting sun. , 
 
 The grooms were busy harnessing their horses to the pope s 
 coach, and superbly caparisoning the mottled ass, which 
 was to bear the cross before his holiness on some official 
 occasion. f , 
 
 Arrested by curiosity, I lounged about the courts ot the 
 
SWITZERLAND AND ITALY. 223 
 
 palace till the procession wns formed, taking notice, among 
 other things, of the round tower, that has been erected undesr 
 the orders of some meek and holy pontiff, to command the 
 gate way. It is mounted with half a dozen brass cannon, 
 and could readily clear the Piazza di Monte Cavallo of the 
 insulting throng of a sudden insurrection. 
 
 When the cavalcade filed off, I followed it down the hill to 
 the magnificent church of the holy apostles, which has been 
 already described. 
 
 Here there was a grand illumination of the sacrament. 
 The sparkling ostensory was surrounded by a pyramidal ex- 
 hibition of innumerable lights, in the brilliant radiations of 
 suns and stars, betwixt shining pyramids and blazing 
 spires. 
 
 By this time the approaching dusk began to give to the 
 splendid exhibition its utmost lustre, and when the Pope 
 entered in an episcopal mitre, glittering with silver, a cur- 
 tain was withdrawn, which displayed a figure of the Vir- 
 gin, magnificently dressed, and to the interlude was added 
 the' accompaniment of music; after which the entertain- 
 ment concluded with the solemn farce of the state coach 
 and bare headed postillions. 
 
 A day or two after this our landlady informed us with 
 an air of exultation, that Cardinal Zelada was dead, and 
 that every body was going to see him laid out at his own 
 house, previous to his lying in state at church. 
 
 She was, undoubtedly, a good catholic, for she always 
 dropped upon her knees when the Pope rode by our win- 
 dows; yet, it is my opinion, she would have been, glad tohear. 
 of the decease of half the members of the sacred college, for 
 the sake of seeing them all interred with pontifical ceremony, 
 I knew his eminence had been secretary of state to 
 the unfortunate Pins, and could not but feel some 
 habitual qualms at making matter of amusement out 
 of the obsequies of a, man who had probably died of a 
 broken heart. , 
 
 We went, however, with a multitude, sheltering ourselves 
 under the prudential maxim, '* When you are at Rome you 
 must do as Rome does." 
 
 We found the house crowded with people, coming 
 and going, and we would gladly have returned, if we 
 could have done it with decency, without seeing the ca- 
 daverous exhibition. 
 
 The next day, at church, the body was laid upon a bed 
 of state, arrayed in episcopal vestments, with the mitre on 
 
TRAVELS THROtTGH 
 
 its head, in the style of effigies, so often seen in France 
 and England upon Gothic tombstones. 
 
 The walls of the church were hung with black and gold, 
 and the Pope's band appeared in the organ loft, to begin a 
 slow and solemn incantation as soon as the Pontiff should 
 be seated. 
 
 After the funeral hymn, the Pope arose and sprinkled 
 with holy water the border of the scarlet bed, encircling 
 prelates SeVeial tlmGS ' ^ a swee P in S train of priests and 
 
 Their eminences withdrew from this humbling memento, 
 of what themselves must one day come to, deafened with 
 
 ^' le !- 0f , 5 dear the wa * v! cIear the Wa iT ! for my Lord 
 Cardinal ! and it was with difficulty they could reach their 
 coaches across the inextricable confusion of trampling 
 horses and rattling wheels, dogged by an impatient mo£ 
 which had waited for hours in the adjacent streets. 
 
 ihe rudeness of the Italian populace is, on these occasions, 
 barbarously gross. I have had my coat singed with the 
 pot of coals, without which a Roman slattern never roes 
 irom home in winter; and I have been pushed aside° by 
 a cardinals footman, with as much insolence as if he was 
 making way for his master : but when the Pope's guards 
 have been opemng a passage through the crowd by main 
 lorce, 1 have been sometimes apprehensive of being 
 squeezed to death, in a place where it would be felony, 
 without benefit,of clergy, to strike a blow. 
 
 At the Easter holidays, observed alike by the Jews, as the 
 least ot the Passover, and by christians, as the anniversary 
 of the awful sacrifice of the Son of God, which was pre- 
 figured by that of the Paschal Lamb, funeral ceremonies 
 are performed upon the Holy Eve, in the Capella Sistina, 
 under the solemn chaunt of the papal band, which, on this 
 occaston, pours forth, in penetrating strains, the trembling 
 "Miserere. f? 
 
 The Capella Paulina is at the same time dimly lighted up 
 for a mournful exhibition of the holy sepulchre ; and art 
 illuminated cross is suspended in the air beneath the dome 
 a I & ?lh W th , C s 3 7mbolic refulgence creates sublime 
 effects of light and shade, glittering upon the gilded ceil- 
 ing, running into obscurity in the recesses of the chapels, 
 dying away m the hemisphere of the dome, and fading by 
 deorees on the sides of the nave, and in weaker and weaker 
 reflections of diagonal radiation. 
 
 All this we shall miss by leaving Rome a mouth too soon; 
 
SWITZERLAND AND ITALY. 
 
 and two months later, on the festival of St. Peter and* St. 
 Paul, we might see the illumination of the Colonnade, the 
 Facade, and the Dome, blazing with innumerable lights, 
 and behold the Girandola of St. Angelo, an explosion of 
 five thousand rockets, that fills the atmosphere with spark- 
 ling corruscations. 
 
 Before J quit the Papal metropolis, I must crave for- 
 giveness of my Protestant brethren, for speaking of the 
 sovereign Pontiff in the established style of etiquette. The ho- 
 liness of an unrjoly Pope indicates no more in the courtly no- 
 menclature of Europe, than the grace of an ungracious 
 duke, or the serenity of a passionate prince. Do we not read 
 within the covers of our own Bibles of, that sanctified 
 person, the most high and mighty prince, James, by the 
 grace of Godf &c. ; and even in America, under the au- 
 thority of no general council, under the prescription of no 
 established church, is not the adulatory phraseology re- 
 peated throughout innumerable editions? I hope, how- 
 ever, it will not be long before American editors will ven- 
 ture to omit the whole apocryphal book of the epistle dedi- 
 catory. 
 
 My Catholic readers, especially in America, will de- 
 mand, and deserve, a more serious apology, for the freedom 
 w ith which I have exhibited the real or supposed errors of 
 the Church of Rome. I well know that the Roman Catho- 
 lics in the United States are justly considered as good citi- 
 zens, and pious Christians, particularly at Philadelphia, 
 where the name of Harding, their late venerable pastor, is 
 often coupled, in philanthropic recollections, with that 
 of his revered contemporary Benezet. If many of thera 
 have been heretofore unacquainted with ecclesiastical his- 
 tory, and many more have qualified in America their reli- 
 gious, as well as their political, creed, I beg them to remem- 
 ber, that the revival of historic truths, however unwelcome, is 
 not wilful defamation. The same darkness involved church 
 and state, religion and philosophy, during the long inter- 
 val between the decline of the Roman empire and the re- 
 vival of letters ; and the Catholics of the nineteenth cen- 
 tury are no more responsible for the inventions of the ninth, 
 than are the modern Presbyterians for the intolerance of their 
 forefathers . 
 
 SWITZERLAND. J F f 
 
TRAVELS THROUGH 
 
 LETTER XXV r ll, 
 
 JOURNEY FROM ROME TO LYONS— PASSAGE OF MOUNT 
 CEN1S. 
 
 Lyons, \5th April, 1802. 
 
 We left Rome, with regret, the 19th of March, with a 
 Vettorino, who was to take us to Florence for eight sequins 
 (a Roman coin worth about two dollars), though he had 
 first asked as many Louis d'ors, according to the laudable 
 custom of his country. 
 
 A¥e had for company a German rider, or travelling agent 
 for a manufacturing house, who could speak, for ought I 
 know, all the languages of Europe; yet whether he ex- 
 pressed himself in English, French, or German, his pro- 
 nunciation and phraseology was always that of his mother- 
 tongue. 
 
 He remarked himself, that it was a physical impossibi- 
 lity for a German to pass for any thing else, though by 
 the way an American is an Englishman at London, and 
 with a French tongue in his head, may readily pass for a 
 Frenchman in Italy, and an Italian in France. 
 
 I have known a Frenchman who would have been taken 
 for an Englishman in London ; and 1 once met with an 
 English rider, in Switzerland, who might have passed 
 himself for a Frenchman at Paris, or a German at Vienna. 
 
 When we arrived upon the frontiers our fellow -traveller 
 used to divert himself and us, by rattling over his name, 
 Johann Rudolph Schalch, to the inquiring sentinels ; when 
 tne astonished interrogator, after tvvo or three ineffectual re- 
 petitions, generally handed the redoubtable German pen ink 
 ^nd paper, to be his own amanuensis. 
 
 He was full six feet high, his physiognomy was German ? 
 and with his cocked-hat and pistols, he passed, no doubt, 
 among the chicken-hearted Italians, for a disbanded of- 
 ficer, that might have served under General Suwarrozo^ or 
 Field-marshal Wurmsur ; but no man is a hero to his valet-? 
 
SWITZERLAND AND IT ALT. 
 
 227 
 
 cle-chambrc ; our Vettorino soon discovered that the doughty 
 German was as easily frightened as any body in his voiture i 
 and the fellow frequently diverted himself and us, with covert 
 but intelligible references, to the well known indications of 
 timidity upon a road infamous for assassinations. 
 
 Our hero had been to Palermo, to see the King of the Two 
 Sicilies, upon some business relating to his manufactures. 
 
 lie described to us, in opprobrious terms, the worthless 
 vices of the populace of Sicily, and the slatternly inacti- 
 vity, even of ladies of the ton, in a country that swarms 
 with vermin. 
 
 Sicilian wheat Ins been famous from the earliest ages of 
 civilization, and both in size and flavour, the grapes, the figs, 
 the pomegranates, the oranges, and the pine-apples of Si- 
 cily, are all that we imagine of the island of Calypso, in the 
 fables of Fenelon, or that the youth of America so often 
 realize, to their cost, amid the verdant insalubrity of the 
 western Archipelago. 
 
 A letter of introduction from Prince Charles, the philo- 
 sophic Archduke of the Austrian family, had procured his 
 countryman the honour of a personal interview with his 
 royal brother-in-law ; but his Neapolitan Majesty, when he 
 had sufficiently conned over the brief, graciously signified 
 that he did not Understand such business, and without far- 
 ther notice, referred his petitioner to General Acton, an Eng- 
 lish gentleman who had long spared the sovereign of the 
 Two Sicilies the fatiguing cares of administration. 
 
 Until we reached Sienna, the full blow of spring upon 
 the groves and hedges promised us a favourable passage 
 across the Appcnnines; but a heavy snow had fallen a few 
 days before, between Sienna and Florence. It had however 
 melted away before we reached the capital of Tuscany, con- 
 verted into Etruria by the metamorphosists of France. 
 
 Arriving at Florence before dark, I ran down to the Arno 
 as soon as we alighted, recollecting that it opened to the 
 west, and was amply rewarded with the sight of a glowing 
 eky. A brilliant orange melting into a pea-green, of the 
 most vivid transparency, was richly irradiated from behind 
 a ridge of mountains, upon the distant horizon, empurpled 
 with the fairy tinge of an Italian atmosphere. 
 
 Here we reposed several days, revisited the interesting 
 objects we had already admired, and enquired for those we 
 had missed seeing before. 
 
 The town was unusually gav with the festival, of San Gio- 
 
TRAVELS TH HOUGH 
 
 vanni; and the Northern Hero, who was si III a bachelor, 
 Lad like to have lost his heart at last among the straw hats 
 and blue ribbands of the peasants' dan "liters. 
 
 We set oat again witli anew Vettoriuo, better acquainted 
 with the Appennines, over which we were now to toil ; and 
 ■we gladly reached before night the hospitable Caravansera, 
 that ocenpies the central level— bleak and barren as a Si- 
 berian desert. 
 
 Snow lay fathoms deep in the gnllies, and the melting of 
 that which had till then covered the road, had just yielded 
 to a religious fraternity the melancholy satisfaction of in- 
 terring in holy ground the unfortunate travellers, who had 
 lost their way during the winter, and perished under drifting 
 snows. 
 
 One of the dead bodies was carried along as we approached 
 the inn, or rather stable, where, as in many other places, 
 even in the plains of Italy, horses are accommodated on the 
 first floor, and their riders on the second. 
 
 We willingly arose the next morning, before day-break, 
 to descend from the ragged back-bone of the Appennines ; 
 tmd as we traversed a barren heath we beheld, at a distance, 
 a volcanic flame, which pierces through abed of sand. 
 
 Soon afterwards we entered the first town of the Bologncse, 
 now part of the Cisalpine Republic, and were snlhciently 
 fretted by the particularity, rather than the insolence of the 
 novices at the Custom-house, who knew not what to make of 
 the trunk full of nick-nacks I had brought away from Rome. 
 They would have taken me for a pedlar of small wares, on 
 his way to the next fair, if our German fellow-traveller had. 
 not assured them thai I was an American gentleman travel- 
 ling for his amusement. 
 
 This examination passed us on to Bologna, where I was 
 obliged to make a regular entry of my prints and marbles, 
 and to pay down the" duty upon actual consumption, before 
 I could be permitted to take them across the country. 
 
 At the frontier Dogana however, the money was to be 
 restored to me, upon a certificate; but the signature of au- 
 thority would certainly have stood me in no stead, if a Re- 
 publican Officer, for whom we had then exchanged the Ger- 
 man rider — boiling with professional and constitutional im- 
 patience, had not peremptorily insisted on the suspicious 
 clerk's complying with the requisition of his constituent at 
 Bologna. 
 
 The next town was in the Duchy of Parma, and 1 here 
 
S W I T Z B U L A N 1) AM) ITALY. 
 
 '•'veparcd myself for another attack, but we were suffered 
 to pass on to the capital, and there a trifling douceur secured 
 us from insult and inconvenience. 
 
 The nest morning as we quilted the pluce we met a peni- 
 tential procession ot the Host. It was carried by a priest, 
 under an umbrella, and followed by a multitude of people, 
 decently dressed, and chanting devout hymns, with a degree 
 of zeal warm enough to kindle religious fervour in any bo- 
 som not chilled with professed unbelief. 
 
 At Placentia we quitted the Milan road, to reach Turin hf 
 a nearer route. 
 
 The rugged chain of the Alps, white with everlasting snow, 
 is visible from the plains of Marengo, though not less than 
 fifty miles distant; and in the shining barrier of this natural 
 amphitheatre the eye can trace at once the descent of Han- 
 nibal — of Buonaparte — and of Suwarrow, from the distant 
 peaks of Mount Viso— St. Bernard — and St. Gothard, when- 
 ever their aspiring summits are not concealed by clouds. 
 
 Twenty or thirty miles travelling brings you to Turin, a 
 small but regular city, which was supposed to have been 
 surrounded with impregnable foti Meat ions, until the irresist- 
 able Corsican proved their insufficiency. 
 
 The abdicated Court occupied itself solely with an estab- 
 lished routine of military exercises, and devotional ceremo- 
 nies. The most remarkable object therefore to be seen at 
 Turin, is the stupendous c^ain of the Alps, still twenty 
 or thirty* miles distant, though apparently so near that it 
 might be su pposed to terminate the outlets of some of the 
 linear streets. 
 
 The romantic perspective of one of them exhibits the icy- 
 crags of Mount Viso, from whose majestic summit of ten 
 thousand feet Hannibal encouraged his fainting troops with 
 a sight of the plains of Lombardy — descended to Pinarolum, 
 like a roaring torrent, or a falling avalanche — and defeated 
 the Roman legions under the consul Scipio, who met the de- 
 stroyer on the banks of the Ticinus. 
 
 This incursion of the Carthaginians — one of the most 
 astonishing circumstances of ancient history, is not eclipsed 
 even by the recent passage of St. Bernard — a presumptive 
 impossibility, till it was achieved by the impetuous French*. 
 
 * In the midst of winter, 200 years before Christ, Hannibal, though but 
 twenty-six years of age, at the beginning of the second Punic War, set sail 
 from Septa, the modern Ceuia, in Africa, wich 50,000 foot, 9000 horse, and 
 forty elephants, and landed at Tori/a, one oi the -Pillars of Kercules, now 
 
250 
 
 TRAVELS THROUGIT 
 
 Turin now swarms with French troops, as a 105th department 
 of Hie indefinite Republic — one and indivisible. The disman- 
 tled ramparts arc crowded with priests and friars, who have 
 no where been displaced by the politic subjugator of the 
 South j and every tenth person you meet in the streets, incrc- 
 
 ealled the reck of Gibraltar. From thence he passed through Spain to the 
 camp of SpartorUs, where he was joined by 50,0C0 foot and 3000 horse. March- 
 ing from Carthago Nova, now Carthagena, with a army of 88,000 foot, 12,000 
 horse, and forty elephants, he entered Gaul, passed the Rhone near Avenio,no\y 
 Avignon, transporting his elephants upon floats of timber, covered with earth, 
 and ascended the Alps at Mount Viso. He reached the summit in nine days, 
 with incredible difficulty, being strenuously opposed by the Gauls, who had 
 ported themselves upon the heights, and with horrid outcries tumbled rocks 
 and stones upon the heads of the invaders, already fainting with fatigue. It 
 was now autumn, and snow had begun to fall, which greatly impeded the 
 march, the difficulties of which increased at every step, for when they began to 
 descend upon ice and snow, the beasts of burthen frequentiy slipped down, and 
 swept away all before them. At length they came to a precipice a thousand 
 feet deep, which would have proved an insurmountable bar to their farther pro- 
 gress, if Hannibal had not opened a circuitous passage for his troops, and thus 
 surmounted the supendous barrier of Italy. Scipio, after having in vain at- 
 tempted to stem the descending torrent, retreated to Sempronius, who had hast- 
 ened to his assistance from the fleet in the Mediterranean; and made a second 
 stand behind the Trebia, a river which falls into the Po above Placentia. Here 
 victory again declared for the invader, though crossing the river in rain and 
 snow he lost all his elephants except one. The conqueror wintered at Placentia, 
 but attempting to cross the Appennines too early in the spring, he was forced by 
 cold and hunger to return ; yet the indefatigable Carthaginian again discomfited 
 Sempronius, who had by this time returned from Rome with fresh troops. Han- 
 nibal now again climbed the Appennines, and wading with equal difficulty 
 through a deep morass, mounted, himself, upon the only elephant which had 
 survived the winter, he attacked and routed Flamir.ius, the new consul, en- 
 camped upon the lake of Thrasymenus. The field of battle is a swampy plain, in 
 the middle of which is a bridge, still called Ponte Sanginetto, from the effusion 
 of blood spilt there two thousand years ago. Seven miles from hence, toward 
 Rome, is the village of Ossaia, so called from the human bones which are found 
 in its vicinity ; and in the neighbouring cathedral of Cortona, is preserved an 
 ancient Sarcophagus, embossed with the battle of the Lapithes against the Cen- 
 taurs, which is supposed to have been the tomb of the unfortunate Consul, who 
 perished with 15,000 Romans on the fatal day. The senate now created a dic- 
 tator', to save the republic from the danger with which it was threatened ; but 
 Hannibal having reached Apulia by a circuitous route, baffled the prudent 
 Fabius, and with 40,000 foot and 10,000 horse, the remains of the hundred 
 thousand with which two years before he had set out from Spain, the victo- 
 -rious Carthaginian again conquered at Cannae the dispirited Romans, when, 
 if Polybins may be credited, 80,000 combatants remained upon the field, per- 
 haps the greatest number of human beings that ever perished in a single battle. 
 Hannibal instead of pursuing the fugitives to the astonished capital, quartered 
 his troops for the wimer in the city of Capua, vainly expecting a reinforce- 
 ment from Carthage, to enable him to attack Rome in the spring, with some 
 probability of success. Stung with disappointment and regret, as soon as the 
 season permitted, the conqueror marched his little army, almost annihilated by 
 repeated victories, to the gates of Rome; from whence he withdrew after the 
 fruitless bravado, and was soon recalled to Carthage, where Scipio Africanus, 
 who had himself fled before Hannibal in the plains of jLombardyj afterwards re- 
 venged the Romans upou the ravager of Italy. - . 
 
SWITZERLAND AND ITALY. 
 
 231 
 
 dible as it may appear, is lame, bandy-legged, or otherwise 
 distorted with goitrous excrescences, or detective limbs. 
 
 I engaged a French voiturin to take us over Mount Cenis 
 to L/ons, and Ave seemed again among old acquaintance?; 
 when on getting into the voiture, we were saluted by two 
 French gentlemen, who were returning like ourselves from 
 Italy, and who yielded us the back seat with characteristic 
 politeness. 
 
 One of them however alarmed us with horrid tales of rob- 
 bery and murder; indeed so frequently did one accompany 
 the other in France and Italy, at one period of the revolution, 
 that the word assassination has ever since been used as syno- 
 nimous with robbery. 
 
 He had himself been fired at in a voiture, when travel- 
 ling before day-light upon this very road. His companion 
 fell dead at the first onset, and he oniy escaped himself by 
 falling upon the bottom of the carriage, and being- dragged 
 out for dead. * && 
 
 About noon we passed the Convent of St. Michael, perched 
 upon the very pinnacle of a stupendous rock ; in whose an- 
 tiquated recesses we were told two or three superannuated be- 
 Jiedictines were still permitted to celebrate harmless masses, 
 for the restoration of their catholic sovereign. 
 
 Many of the neighbouring heights are romantically tipped 
 with dismantled fortresses, and near Zacconiero we rode 
 under the proud castle of St . George. 
 
 At Susa, the ancient Segesium, famous in modern history 
 for a bloody battle called the Pas de Suze, we took additional 
 horses to drag us up the foot of the Alps, and after mount- 
 ing for an hour, we entered a winding valley, along which ran 
 the road for several miles. 
 
 By this time it grew dark, and the novelty of our situation, 
 received additional interest from the evening anthems, that 
 rose as we passed through little villages, in devout aspirations 
 from their humble choirs. 
 
 The moonlight now began to reflect from the rocks, and 
 an hour after night we reached Novalezza, a wretched vil- 
 lage, inhabited by guides and porters, at the foot of Mount 
 Cenis. 
 
 Here I again ran the gauntlet with the officers of the Cus- 
 toms, while supper was preparing in one room, and the 
 yoiturin was chattering with half the people of the place in 
 another. 
 
 The wind blew so violently that it was impossible to kindl* 
 
232 
 
 TRAVELS THROUGH 
 
 a fire in our chamber, for the whirling eddy which rushed 
 from the mountain. 
 
 Next morning we set forward, wretchedly mounted upon 
 mules and asses, each having a conductor on foot. 
 
 We knew we were to pass through a temporary winter, and 
 were already threatened by a piercing wind, we had therefore 
 mttffied ourselves with all the clothes in our wardrobe, and 
 every one's hat was tied on with a handkerchief. 
 
 Accordingly When we had ascended for an hour by a 
 xig-zag path /the wind began to blow with almost irresisti- 
 ble violence, and the conductors would fain have persuaded 
 a certain iwpermaietible personage to sit astride, for fear 
 she should be blown off of the saddle. To those who know 
 lier, ! need not add that she kept her posit ? on,and was pro- 
 bably the first woman that ever ascended Mount Cenis 
 upon a side-saddle. 
 
 We now approached an aerial village, the squalid inhabi- 
 tants of which were sadly disfigured with wens and goitres, 
 and soon entered upon the snows, which cover the remainder 
 of the ascent eleven months in the year, a fit resort of bears 
 and wolves that often follow the mules of solitary passengers 
 to feed upon their dung. They arc sometimes seen at a dis- 
 tance hunting the small white hares that inhabit these dreary 
 legions. 
 
 A mile or two on, there is a covered passage, through which 
 alone it is possible to pass when the snow is drifted, and a 
 mile or two more of dillicnlt and often dangerous ascent, lands 
 you upon the crown level, a kind of valley between rugged 
 summits, nine miles over. 
 
 In the middle of this plain is the Post-house, sanctified 
 with a wooden cross. Here we refreshed ourselves with fish 
 and eggs, there being a lake in the plain which produces 
 excellent trout. 
 
 Near it is a little hospital served by two priests, who cha- 
 ritably reside in this dreary situation, to administer relief to 
 those who meet with accidents upou the mounlain. 
 
 The day y -is fine, a glorious sun now rendered us insen- 
 sible of cold, and we rode on in good spirits to the brow of 
 the descent, where some peasants waited to conduct us down 
 the steep declivity in sledges. 
 
 One of them sat at our feet to guide, or to retard, the ra- 
 pid conveyance, and another stood behind like a plough-boy, 
 to direct the descent. 
 
 The apparatus was terrifying, as it was to convey us down. 
 
SWITZERLAND AND ITALY. 
 
 233 
 
 a gulph frowning with firs, to which we could see no bottom; 
 bat we trusted ourselves once more to unavoidable dan- 
 gers, and in five minutes we jumped out at Lanslebourg, a 
 short league from the aery summit from which we had lite- 
 rally flown. 
 
 In the steepest part of the descent we were confined by ne- 
 cessity to a zig-zag direction, in turning the angles of which, 
 we narrowly escaped launching over the precipice : and on 
 reaching the foot of the mountain, where the snow suddenly 
 failed, it required the utmost exertion to save us from being 
 thrown headlong upon stumps and stones. 
 
 New vexations awaited us d la Douane de la Republique, 
 the officers of which were too surly for a bribe, and they not 
 only tumbled over my ill-fated paraphernalia, but obliged 
 me to pay two Louis d'ors, the full import duty, though I 
 gave them proofs sufficient that they were not meant for sale, 
 and proved myself no Frenchman, by submitting to the im- 
 position with a very ill grace. 
 
 We were now however in France, and had nothing farther 
 to dread from official insolence or rapacity, as I intended to 
 ship the troublesome cargo from some French port: well 
 knowing the truth of what the Republicans told me, that if 
 I carried them to England, I should be treated ten times 
 worse. 
 
 We now descended by winding vallies, between chaotic 
 rocks, ascending and descending on the very edge of fearful 
 precipices, darkened by spiral evergreens, every now and then 
 rattling over the pavement of a town, till at last the moun- 
 tains began to sink — the vallies grew wider and wider — and 
 on the second evening we reached Chamberi, the romantic 
 capital of the ancient Duchy of Savoy. 
 
 Every thing in i^ and about it wears an old fashioned air, 
 and fancy might easily convert the Ducal Palace into an en- 
 chanted castle— haunted by the ghosts of murdered chief- 
 tains. 
 
 The antiquated residence has been totally deserted ever 
 since the family acceded to the happier territory of Piedmont; 
 and its vacant courts and lonely towers had already fallen 
 to decay, when Savoy was involved in the vortex of the Re- 
 volution. 
 
 Next morning we set out again by day-break, impa- 
 tient to get from under overhanging mountains, and by ten 
 o'clock we reached the rude and naked rocks called Les 
 Echelles, or the Ladders, because formerly the perpendicular 
 
 SWITZERLAND.] Gg 
 
234 
 
 TRAVELS THROUGH 
 
 precipice could only be scaled by the help of rope ladders 
 ascending walls of rock, and leading through frightful cran- 
 nies and winding crevices. 
 
 But the traveller may now descend at his ease on horse- 
 back, or in a carriage, by a road called La Grotte, which 
 w ^ o cut through the solid rock, by Charles Emanuel, in 
 
 Not far from this astonishing passage, was situated the ro- 
 mantic abbey called the Grande Chartreuse, where, at the 
 bottom of a sequestered glen, superstition had long displayed 
 the Cross of St. Bruno, planted on a spiral rock. 
 
 In this extensive convent there were separate apartments 
 allotted for pilgrims and travellers from all the nations of 
 Christendom, and in the library was kept an A lbum, which 
 had been filled with the effusions of genius, and the offerings 
 of gratitude, in all the languages of Europe. 
 
 But the self-denying Carthusians have been driven from 
 their cells; and the convent and the album no longer ex- 
 ist, but in the visions of poesy, and the romances of de- 
 scription. 
 
 The country now began to open into fields and plains, and 
 at the close of another day, we alighted, like people glad to 
 get home again, at our former lodgings, in the Place Belle- 
 cour. 
 
 Lyons, the Lugdunum of the ancient Romans, was built 
 by them in a fertile and extensive valley, at the confluence 
 of two navigable rivers, the Saone, springing from the inte- 
 rior of France, and the Rhone, which flows with accelerated 
 swiftness from the mountains of Switzerland. 
 
 United they form one of the principal rivers of tlie Euro- 
 pean continent, which runs from Lyons, one hundred and 
 fifty miles due south, as the north river of America descends 
 from Albany. The former, however, is to this day only oc- 
 cupied by flat-bottomed batteaux, or ill constructed barques, 
 little belter than the femporary flotillas which convey lumber 
 from the back woods of Pennsylvania. The latter is already 
 crowded with sharp wherries and tight shallops of the neatest 
 construction in the world. 
 
 The modern Lyons is a town of one hundred thousand 
 souls, so closely wedged in between the two rivers, that the 
 narrow streets are scarcely pervious to the mid-day sun, be- 
 tween houses piled up seven or eight stories high, yet some 
 of them unexpectedly open upon the ample area of the 
 Place Belle-cour, once the most ornamented promenade in 
 
SWITZERLAND AND ITALY. 
 
 325 
 
 a country, remarkable for the finest public squares upon 
 earth.* 
 
 The Place Belle-cour had long excited the envy of the ca- 
 pital, and when the loyalty of Lyons incurred revolutionary 
 vengeance, the interior row of elegant edifices which sur- 
 rounded this magnificent quadrangle, was sacrificed to the 
 demon of destruction . 
 
 Their remains still cover each end of the area with hills of 
 ruin, notwithstanding the world has been pompously adver- 
 tised that the Hero of France had again laid the corner stone 
 of this proud square on his return from Marengo. 
 
 But the centre is still large enough for the rotatory evolu- 
 tions of whole squadrons of horse, with which every decadi 
 it is actually enlivened ; and on one side of it is an um- 
 brageous promenade, which is constantly crowded from 
 noon till night with walkers and talkers, who furnish each 
 other with the usual amusements of restless or communica- 
 tive leisure. Occupe (says Boileau) a ne rien f aire A 
 
 LETTER, XXVIII. 
 
 JOURNEY TO PARIS. — CONSULAR REVIEW, &C. 
 
 Paris, May 25th, 1802. 
 
 _^\_T Lyons, my dear B had a severe attack of bili- 
 ous fever, which detained us there a month. We had large 
 and convenient apartments at the Hotel du Midi, and were 
 quite at home as to domestic arrangements. 
 
 On holidays I frequently went to an old Gothic church in 
 the neighbourhood, where the catholic worship had been 
 lately restored, and was there often edified by the zeal of the 
 poor, who flocked in crowds again to unite in songs of 
 prayer and praise. 
 
 » When his Imperial Majesty Joseph II. visited his afterwards unfortunate 
 sister, Maria Antoinetta of Austria, then Queen of France, entering on his way 
 to Paris, the august amphitheatre formed by art and nature around the Place de 
 Perou, he drew back astonished, and could not forbear whispering to his Ger- 
 man attendants, " Quel donamage que cet Place soit a Montpelier." [What a 
 pity such a Square as this should be at Montpelier.] 
 
 f Busy a doing nothing. 
 
 Gg2 
 
236 
 
 TI1AVELS THROUGH 
 
 The personal neatness of the French formed a pleasing 
 contrast to the slovenliness of the people, so disgusting in 
 the churches of Italy, but the souls of the habitual chorister^ 
 were discordantly attuned. They frequently smiled at one 
 another in their novel metamorphosis, and their white robes, 
 emblematic of spotless purity, were often sullied with re- 
 peated use. 
 
 On the 10th of May we again set out for Paris, now taking 
 the road through the Bourbonnois, as we had already tra- 
 versed the vine-covered hills of Burgundy. 
 
 Nothing remarkable occurred during the journey, which 
 consisted of the usual ups and downs, pains and pleasures, 
 fatigue and repose, across a territory diversified as usual with 
 neglect and cultivation, country and town. 
 
 Romantic ideas were rekindled by the antiquated walls of 
 the Gothic castle with its appendant chapel, shaded with 
 coeval elms, in which, in r the days of chivalry, had resided 
 the Chevalier Bayard, the pink of knighthood ; and the 
 walls of the neighbouring inn were hung with family por- 
 traits from the dilapidated chateau. 
 
 The towns we now passed through began to resemble those 
 of England, enough to remind us of English contiguity, and 
 every thing wore the face of returning to objects we had been 
 used to contemplate with personal affection or national par- 
 tiality. 
 
 As we passed through the forest of Fontainebleau by the 
 light of a brilliant moon, our baggage jolted off without 
 notice, as we rattled over the pavement ; and when we stopped 
 on discovering the disaster, to gather up our trunks again, as 
 they lay scattered about the road, some ill-looking fellows 
 passed by in a cabriolet, who abused us for thieves, and would 
 probably have shared the pretended booty, if they had thought 
 themselves strong enough to have taken it from us by force. 
 
 Next day we approached the good city of Paris by the 
 banks of the Seine, which are here beautifully ornamented 
 with cheerful villages, and proud noblemen's seats, the re- 
 mains of anti-revolutionary grandeur. Among them we 
 were shewn the delightful retreat from which the unhappy 
 Foulon was dragged to the fermenting capital, his mouth 
 stuffed with straw, to expiate, a la lanterne, the unpardon-^ 
 able outrage he had uttered, or was said to have uttered, 
 against the majesty of the many-headed monster. 
 
 The wretched father must have met upon the road with 
 sensations undescribable, the head of his son-in-law 3 hoisted 
 
SWITZERLAND AND ITALY. 
 
 on a pole, round which the cannibals of Paris were dancing 
 ca ira with savage yells. 
 
 But the storm is now blown over ; the approaches of the 
 metropolis of France are no longer st rewed with fallen trunks 
 and mangled limbs, the banks of the Seine again smile with 
 the rays of a temperate sun, and display once more the 
 grateful appearances of peace and plenty. 
 
 Our old lodgings on the Boulevards were not to be had, 
 and as we only meant to look about us and away, I took a 
 suite of rooms upon the square of the Carousel, being the only 
 tolerable apartments I could there find vacant, for the sake 
 of fronting the Consular Palace, through the hall of which 
 we might pass at will into the gardens of the Thuilleries, con- 
 necting across the Place de la Revolution with the Ely- 
 sian Fields, and the adjacent country toward the Bois de 
 Boulogne and the hills of St'. Cloud, so that here in the 
 heart of a crowded capital you may enjoy the air and the 
 openness of a rural retirement. 
 
 Only three doors from us, however, begins the narrow 
 rueNicain, where but a few days before we arrived , a keg 
 of powder had been blown up in a cart, which purposely 
 obstructed the passage at the moment when the First Consul 
 was going in his coach towards the Opera. The carriage 
 however brushed by, and left the adjacent houses to suffer 
 the destruction in which it was intended to have been in- 
 volved. 
 
 Bonaparte betrayed no signs of discomposure on the occa- 
 sion, and spent the same evening at the Opera Comique, 
 which he was so near passing upon that undiscovered bourne^ 
 from zohence no traveller returns. 
 
 The Courts of the Thuilleries now again exhibit all the 
 parade of royalty over the grave of the unfortunate Louis. 
 Once or twice a week they ring with the coaches of the Heads 
 of Departments, Ministers from foreign courts, and strangers 
 of rank, who crowd the consular levee, ambitious of behold- 
 ing the first man in Europe. Once or twice a month, its 
 walls reverberate with the drums and trumpets of eight or 
 ten thousand regular troops, which are constantly stationed 
 in the vicinity of Paris. 
 
 On these occasions the palace swarms with impatient spec- 
 tators, who are then only admitted by tickets difficult to be 
 procured, except, as formerly, by the favour of a kept mis- 
 tress, or a valet-de-chambre ; and the Place de Carousel 
 teems with the good people of Paris, whilst the First Con- 
 sul, mounted on a milk-white charger, in a cocked hat and 
 
^8 TRAVELS THROUGH 
 
 55?«S ? ' t . he 1 u 1 niforn l ^bodyguards, attended by his 
 staff officers m blue and gold, their horses superbly capari- 
 soned, gallops along the ranks-divides them to right anil 
 
 i r r?JP S the,r ra P id evol utions to distinguish a fellow- 
 ^^l^fpffheAl^, theA PPennines, orthePy- 
 renees-of the Rhine, or of the Nile, by presenting )/ m 
 with a sword of honour, which creates the wearer for life, 
 the rampart of his person, or the instrument of his will 
 
 A few days since this hopeful Son of the Church Catho- 
 kque Apostohque et Romaine, absolved by the Genius of 
 
 fW 7 !T 6Vei ? T' ™ s J eceived "J the Constitutional 
 Clergy at the great door of Notre Dame, and conducted to 
 a throne opposite to that of the Bishop or Archbishop of 
 Fans for 1 do not recollect whether it has been judged con- 
 sistent with the policy of state to re-create the metropolitan 
 order of priesthood, though 1 know that the obligation of 
 celibacy has not been thought materially to controvert the 
 equal privileges of the Citoyem dela RepubUque Francaise. 
 Here the Commander-in-chief assisted at high mass and 
 heardwithdevo.it attention a political sermon pronounced 
 by the ci-devant Archbishop of Aix— the same meek and 
 accommodating prelate who twenty years before had congra- 
 tulated Louis XVI. upon his accession to the throne of P his 
 ancestors. 
 
 Instead of dining constantly at home we frequently take 
 a morning walk along the Seine, through the range of ^ar- 
 dens before described, and dine at a traiteur"s in the Elysian 
 fields, where any thing we order is served up in five mi- 
 nutes. After dinner we stroll into the country, or, as we are 
 grave or gay, we amuse ourselves for an hour or two in the 
 picture gallery, or contemplate with humbling sensations, 
 the monuments preserved from revolutionary fury in the 
 Cloisters of the Augustines. 
 
 Sometimes we perambulate the circling Boulevards, to 
 the Jardin des Plantes; sometimes we engage a chariot to 
 drive to Vmcennes, or St. Denis; and sometimes we take 
 boat to St. Cloud. 
 
 When we were here before, a silver key would open the 
 palace ; but it is now fitting up for the residence of the new 
 sovereign, for whose state the pavilion of Malmaison has 
 become too confined. 
 
 The next step forwards will take the First Consul to Ver- 
 sailles, as the retrograde motions of the Revolution brought 
 his royal predecessor from Versailles to St. Cloud, and from 
 fet. Cloud to the prisons of the Temple. 
 
SWITZERLAND AND ITALY. 239 
 
 We miss some agreeable companions with whom we be- 
 fore visited these interesting scenes ; and to-morrow, satisfied 
 with Paris, we set out in a post-chariot for the Straits of 
 Dover. 
 
 LETTER XXIX. 
 
 JOURNEY FROM PARIS TO LONDON, ACROSS THE STRAITS 
 OF DOVER. 
 
 A 
 
 London, June 10, 1802. 
 
 The fellow that brought the chaise from the Remise, tied 
 our trunk between Ihe fore-wheels in such a manner that it 
 soon shook itself loose, yet he conscientiously chained me 
 two crowns for the rope, and when I appealed to the land- 
 lord against the bare-faced imposition, he was quite igno- 
 rant of the value, according to the laudable custom of the 
 old countries, where no by-stander will ever interfere on an 
 appeal against extortion. 
 
 We now rattled for the last time through the streets of 
 Paris, without any occasion to regret the disinterested friends 
 we were leaving behind us, and rolled through the gate of 
 St. Denis, the superb memorial of the pride or the prowess 
 of Louis le Grand, without ever wishing to behold a similar 
 trophy erected in the streets of Philadelphia. For a word 
 in the ear of my American reader— the gates of the modern 
 capitals of Europe, no longer defended by their walls, are 
 huge masses of brick or sfonc, which serve no purpose what- 
 ever, unless the unnecessary one of blocking up the crowded 
 highway ; and if either St. Denis or Temple-bar were at 
 the entrance of Market-street, they would certainly be re- 
 moved as troublesome incumbrances. 
 
 After climbing up the tedious suburb of Montmartre, and 
 clearing the Barriere, we galloped with the headlong speed 
 ot a French postillion along the level pavement that leads 
 directly to St. Denis, between a double row of lofty elms 
 which have happily withstood the whirlwind of the Revol 
 lution. 
 
 T £ ea PP roach of St. Denis is peculiarly interesting from 
 tne Gothic spires of the Benedictine Abbey in the long drawn 
 
240 
 
 TRAVELS THROUGH 
 
 aisle of whose gloomy chapel, from age to age, and from 
 generation to generation, 
 
 Under the high embowed roof, 
 With storied arches massy proof*, 
 
 reposed the Capets and the Bourbons of a thousand years, 
 until its marble sanctuaries were profaned with revolutionary 
 sacrilege, by incarnate furies, violating the asylum of the 
 grave. 
 
 The town itself is mean and unpromising, its dark and 
 dirty streets being always crowded with the meanest cabrio- 
 lets and nacres of Paris j for at St. Denis, even before the 
 Revolution, nothing was princely but the mass priests that 
 prayed their repenting princes out of the pangs of purgatory, 
 of whose pains and penalties the Bourbons were, in general, 
 piously apprehensive, and prudently deprecatory. 
 
 AVe reached Chantilly time enough for an evening walk 
 among the frowning ruins of the castle, whose premature 
 dilapidation, undei the unsparing hand of a mercenary 
 purchaser, will not suffer one stone upon another to survive 
 its last princely possessor — now an exiled wanderer, without 
 a home. 
 
 But a bridge, once defended by cannon, still vaults over 
 the fosse, and exhibits to the returning emigrant, an eques- 
 trian statue of a Conde or a Montmorenci, vainly brandish- 
 ing the abdicated truncheon of a Mareschal of France ; 
 and the moated tower is not yet prostrated, in which the 
 royal Louises were wont to lodge, if they visited their 
 princely cousin on their way to Compeigne, when the Grand 
 Monarques rolled along in state coaches, through admir- 
 ing crowds, preceded by running footmen ; followed by led 
 horses ; and surrounded with body guards. 
 
 Half w ay between Paris and Calais we passed through 
 Amiens, the capital of Picardy, become famous since we 
 first saw it, by the tardy Treaty which has given peace to 
 the world, after a war that had depopulated, dismembered, 
 or revolutionized the fairest realms in Europe ; overturned 
 the richest colonies of Asia, Africa, and America, and in- 
 volved within its whelming vortex the remotest nations of 
 the globe. 
 
 We arrived in the dusk of the evening, and I spent the 
 glimmering twilight in solitary contemplation around the 
 
 * Milton. 
 
SWITZERLAND AND ITALY. 
 
 241 
 
 Yenerable cathedral, which is one of the finest Gothic struc- 
 tures in the world. 
 
 As you approach this imposing edifice, the long rows of 
 flying buttresses, grey with the moss of ages, and solemn 
 with the consecrated emblems of Christian sanctity, im- 
 press the spectator wiih awe and terror; and at the west 
 end, the foot of the prostrate cross, the fretted battlements, 
 and aery pinnacles, terminating at unequal heights, pro- 
 duce an effect of mystical illusion, unknown to the regu- 
 larity of Grecian ordonnance ; while in the centre a broad 
 arcade, contracting within the thickness of the walls, to the 
 just dimensions of a Gothic door-way, exhibits, instead of 
 clustered pillarets, a host of Saints and Angels aspiring to 
 the glorified Redeemer. 
 
 This door is never opened but at the celebration of high 
 mass. We must go round to that of the south transept 
 to enter the hallowed pile. There a little wicket opens at 
 once upon the ribbed arcade, whose conic height and wire- 
 drawn length, abruptly terminate in the deep refulgence of 
 a circular window, forty feet diameter, glowing with all the 
 coiours of the rainbow, which penetrate in radiant spangles 
 the entortillated perforations of Gothic filligree. 
 
 Between Amiens and Abbeville we met a number of Eng- 
 lish post-chaises, and t wo or three coaches and four, driving 
 gaily to Paris under the protection of Lord Whitworth, the 
 British Ambassador, who had been welcomed to France 
 with joyful acclamations; and all the beggars of the de- 
 partment were now collected upon the Calais road, to sa- 
 lute the MiLor'swith, " Madame et Monsieur, 1'effet de 
 votre bonte, je vous en prie : nous mourrons de faim, 
 &c. &c. 
 
 The nobility and gentry of the sea-girt isle, happy to 
 get again upon the Continent, from which they had been 
 so long excluded, took the bowing crowd at their word, for 
 the honour of Old England, and generally threw out an ecu, 
 or a piece de cinq francs, as they drove away from the post- 
 house. 
 
 The circumstance was unfavourable for us, who were be» 
 gieged with equal importunity, though we were going the 
 contrary way, and had been long enough in France to know 
 that nobody was starviug. 
 
 As we entered into Abbeville, a large manufacturing 
 
 * Gentlemen and Ladies, a little charity, if you pl«ase ; we are dying with 
 hunger. 
 
 SWITZERLAND.^ fife. 
 
242 
 
 TRAVELS THROUGH 
 
 place, the postillion's bidet fell down, and the boy proved 
 to demonstration the utility of jack-boots, of which I should 
 otherwise have left France without having been convinced, 
 by drawing his leg unhurt from under the horse's side. 
 
 He was mounted again in a twinkling, and at the post- 
 house door he left us a prey to the beggars, rhale and female, 
 that collected from all quarters on hearing a chaise drive 
 up. 
 
 Here I unluckily affronted the whole irascible tribe, by 
 pettishly advising one of them, with a child in her arms, 
 to go home and mind her business ; and we only escaped be- 
 ing mobbed through the streets of this hospitable town, by 
 hurrying the postillion and driving off full gallop. 
 
 The Barriere brought us up, and as another herd of rag- 
 gamuffins surrounded us here also, and teazed us all the 
 while we were making change, 1 asked the toll-gatherer 
 if there were no means of preventing such a troublesome 
 imposition upon strangers. " Non, Monsieur," was theanswer. 
 On which I assured him they would find the way to stop it 
 in England. " Je le crois bien*," replied he; for a French- 
 man is always ready to allow that things may be better ma- 
 naged in England. 
 
 At the next village I asked a well-dressed man that stood 
 by, whether the people of the place were all beggars ; and 
 on his replying in the negative, I advised him, for the credit 
 of the town, to disperse the imposing rabble, among whom 
 there was not a single one that could plead old age or de- 
 crepitude. 
 
 Montreuil is situated upon a commanding eminence, and 
 strongly fortified, though it was taken by the Duke of 
 Marlborough, when he ravaged the Low Countries. 
 
 Midway between the modern sea-ports of Boulogne and 
 -Calais, was situated the lccius Portus, from whence Julius 
 Caesar embarked for Britain. 
 
 Calais having been taken from the French by Edward III. 
 against whom it had been gallantly defended, as we learn 
 from the story of Eustache de St. Pierre, which has been 
 celebrated by poets and painters, remained in the hands of 
 the English two hundred years, when the Duke of Guise 
 retook it by stratagem in 1558, the last year of Queen 
 Mary. 
 
 Here we drove to the Hotel d'Angleterre, celebrated by 
 Sterne, under the name of its then proprietor, Dessein. 
 
 * I make no doubt of it* 
 
SWITZERLAND AND ITALY. 
 
 2i3 
 
 It is probably the most spacious and convenient inn upon 
 the Continent, containing within itself, a billiard-room, a 
 coffee-house, a theatre, &c. &c. 
 
 Next morning we cleared ourselves out at the custom- 
 house, and took our passage for Dover, in a French packet- 
 boat, the English watermen not being permitted to take 
 passengers from Calais. K 
 
 There were a great many people on board, and when the 
 officers of the customs came to search for money, more 
 than ten Louis d'ors being prohibited under pain of for- 
 feiture, they complimented us by taking our word for it, 
 though they searched their own country-people with sus- 
 picious rigour. 
 
 The wind blew fresh from the north-east, and in half an 
 hour's time we were all sea-sick. The cabin floor, wet with 
 the spray of the sea, was covered over with groaning pa- 
 tients, and the cabin-boys were fully employed in handing 
 their basons from one puling youth to another. 
 
 Three or four hours, however, brought us to an anchor 
 off Dover-sands, and a boat was soon alongside from the 
 town, for it would be contrary to all the rules of imposition 
 for the skipper to land his own passengers. 
 
 The boatmen were at first so extortionate, that we pe- 
 remptorily refused their demand, a guinea a-piece for the, 
 English passengers. The foreigners, sick as they were, must 
 by no means be landed without a permit from the custom- 
 house. 
 
 The fellows hovered round us for an hour, to prevent 
 others from coming off to us, and finally offered to put us 
 ashore for a crown a-piece. This was joyfully agreed to. 
 
 I told them zee zsere foreigners, as we got into the boat ; 
 but they said, they'd risque that, if we'd a mind to pass 
 for English. 
 
 In less than five minutes they run us upon the beach, and 
 we had scarcely got through the breakers, before we were sur- 
 rounded by a dozen waiters from the principal inns, eagerly 
 thrusting their cards into our hands, and soliciting out 
 custom for their respective houses. 
 
 I gave the name of the one for which I had a card, to 
 get rid of their importunities, and one of the follows, with 
 undaunted assurance, offered to lead us thither directly ; but 
 the rogue took us to another, without our knowing it, and 
 actually pocketed a fee for inveigling us to his own house. 
 
 It was the sign of the »Ship, where however wo were 
 well enough lodged, arid could amuse ourselves from ouv 
 
 H h 2 
 
244 
 
 TRAVELS THROUGH 
 
 windows with the continual drive at the door of an English 
 inn ; and the eager motions of the passengers in the street, 
 all of whom appeared to be intent upon some urgent bu- 
 siness. 
 
 Every body looked snug and bold ; and the firm step, 
 haughty air, and tight dress, of the women, struck us with 
 the force of novelty, after having been two years upon the 
 Continent. 
 
 My B was quite exhausted by the fatigues we had 
 
 undergone since we quitted Rome ; but some affairs calling 
 me immediately to London, I left her the next evening, 
 taking a seat for the metropolis in the mail-coach. 
 
 We set out at seven o'clock, starting to a minute. The 
 guard behind made the town ring again, with the harsh 
 sound of his horn, and we drove rapidly along the gravel 
 turnpike, the gates of which flew open as we approached, 
 four stout horses making light of the snug carriage to which 
 they were tightly harnessed. 
 
 Until it became quite dark, I amused myself with ad- 
 miring the sheltered cottages, and trim enclosures, by which 
 we passed; and when the lamps were lighted before, I leaned 
 back and went to sleep in my corner, till I was suddenly 
 roused by the blowing of the horn, as we rattled over the 
 rough pavement of the city of Canterbury. 
 
 Here we stopped at the King's Head, the Fountain, or the 
 Red Lion ; whichever it was, there we supped at midnight, 
 and the whole hour we were there, the neighbourhood ran*- 
 with stage-coaches, coming and going in every direction, 
 as if the whole country was up in arms. 
 
 By day-light we had driven sixty miles, and I waked up 
 to see the varied landscape from Shooter's-hill, the smoking 
 metropolis at a distance; and listen to the smart clack of 
 the bar-maids and hostlers, who occasionally refreshed the 
 coachman or his horses. 
 
 The girls cried, " good morning t'ye," with a sprighf- 
 liness to which I had been long unaccustomed, and the boys 
 would sometimes set us otf again, with a " drive on, coachy," 
 intones that bespoke the hurry of an English road. 
 
 We soon entered the suburbs of the largest city in the world, 
 though it may not be the most populous ; drove through 
 the winding streets of Southwark, rumbled over London- 
 bridge, and dropping the mail at the Post-office, went on to 
 the Angel at St. Clement's. 
 
 I settled my business that morning, found myself alone, 
 "without the companion of my travels, among a million of 
 
"SWITZERLAND AND ITALY. 
 
 245 
 
 people, who were all too much immersed in their own affairs, 
 to trouble their heads about me, and set -out again the same 
 evening for Dover, which 1 readied in time to breakfast 
 with her next morning. 
 
 A day or two afterward I took a post-chaise to whirl fox 
 the third time over the same ground. We dined at Canter- 
 bury upon a neck of mutton, a gooseberry pudding, and a 
 bottle of porter, for we could neither of us yet dispense 
 with soup, on a raw day, or relish English wines, after 
 drinking the pure juice of the grape in France and Italy; 
 and were charged for this sparing meal eleven shillings and 
 sixpence sterling : a sum for which four persons might 
 have feasted in France upon all the delicacies in season. 
 
 After dinner we walked to the Cathedral, in which is some 
 fine painted glass. Upon one of the monuments we were; 
 shown the tattered armour of Edward the Black Prince, who 
 was here interred, from which, our conductor informed us, 
 when the soldiers went oft" upon the expedition to the coasi 
 of Brittany, many of thein took away a shred, as a pledge 
 of conquest. 
 
 Light state-coaches, trim post-chaises, and elegant cha- 
 riots, now frequently enlivened the road ; and we stopped, 
 for the night, at a neat inn at Rochester, where it was 
 cold enough to demand a fire, though we had needed notie 
 since we left Rome, and it was now the beginning of June. 
 
 Next morning we set out, in a drizzling rain, to lose 
 ourselves, once more, in the labyrinth of London. 
 
 LETTER XXX. 
 
 GENERAL SKETCHES OJ? THE SOUTH OF EUROPE. 
 
 London, August 1802. 
 
 Having now made what is called (he lesser tour of 
 Europe, I take up my pen to sketch off a general view of 
 the different nations, which are so strikingly contrasted to 
 each other in a space not greater than that of the United 
 States, and only separated by a current of water, or a ridge 
 of mountains, somedmes by lines of demarcation altogether 
 imperceptible; yet the neighbouring inhabitants of frontier 
 provinces, often inimical, and always unfriendly, are fcuceaT 
 
TRAVELS THROUGH 
 
 against each other by the walls and ramparts of fortified 
 towns, in which the mass of the people remains on both 
 sides wilfully ignorant of the arts, the language, and the 
 religion of their neighbours. 
 
 Travellers, for business or amusement, cannot visit neigh- 
 bouring states without passports, even in time of peace ; 
 nor can they carry with them a change of apparel, without 
 being searched at every frontier, as defrauders of the reve- 
 nue ; a system which has been every where so much over- 
 strained to support official profusion, as to create innume- 
 rable smugglers. 
 
 The coin of one state will not pass in another, without 
 a discount ; no alien is any where allowed to hold lands, or 
 exercise a handicraft among his jealous neighbours ; and 
 national enmity is fomented into personal hatred, as the 
 surest means of opposing rivalry and preventing innova- 
 tion . 
 
 The beneficial operations of commerce are invariably 
 shackled by privileges and exclusions, instead of being left, 
 like the ram of Heaven, to find their own level. Nothing 
 is uncontrolled ; oppressive regulations curb every exertion, 
 and the subjects of European governments have been wit- 
 tily said to be governed to death. 
 
 But under the feudal system, which prevailed in Europe 
 till the twelfth century, the rights of mankind, natural as 
 well as civil, were universally engrossed by Nobles and 
 Ecclesiastics, although the privileged orders scarcely any 
 where formed a hundredth part of the community. 
 
 The poverty of the people enters into the policy of op- 
 pressive governments, and the innumerable multitudes 
 that supply European fleets and armies could never be 
 raised for the horrid purpose of spilling one another's blood, 
 jf the populace of towns, and peasantry of the country, were 
 not upon the point of starving. 
 
 But even the pressure of domestic misery, is not always 
 sufficient to secure the national supplies. France has now 
 recourse to military requisitions, and British press-gangs 
 have long set at nought the boasted liberty of the subject. 
 At the beginning of the present war, the Parliament of Eng- 
 land voted 100,000 men for the service of the Navy alone; 
 and when insurrectionary France repelled at the same time 
 the Prussians and the Austrians on one side, and the Eng- 
 lish and the Royalists on the other, there was a levy en 
 masse, and 1,300,000 men were at once in arms upon tlse 
 long extended frontiers of the new republic. 
 
SWITZERLAND AND ITALY. 
 
 Under the old government the French were as much 
 shackled with exclusive privileges and inclusive restrictions 
 as any of their neighbours, and the spire of every village 
 equally bespoke a religious profession established by law; 
 but since the expulsion of the clergy, you see in broad letters 
 upon the walls of churches, the abbreviated creed of the 
 regne de la terreur, as the tyranny of Robespierre is now 
 expressively denominated : 
 
 LE PEUPLF. FRANCOIS RECONNOIT l'eTRE SUPREME, ET L'lMMORTAUTE 
 DE I.\aME*. 
 
 After the abolition of the laws, public inscriptions were 
 also found useful upon civil edifices. It was common, when 
 I passed through the country, to see written upon walls and 
 out-houses, 
 
 'Citoyens ! respectez les Proprietes Nationaux^f or 
 
 Citoyens respeclez les Proprietcs (Fautrtii. Elles sont les 
 fruit de ses travanx et le recompense de son industrie\. 
 
 Upon the gates of towns and the fronts of palaces had 
 long been read with terror the Revolutionary motto : 
 
 liberte! egalite! fraternite ! ou la mort§! 
 
 The last word of the climax had been effaced .before our 
 arrival, by the authority of the five dictators, or of the 
 three consuls : and while we were at Paris, an obnoxious 
 label, indicating the identical balcony of the Louvre from 
 ■which Charles IX. had fired upon his protestant subjects, 
 on the bloody eve of St. Bartholomew, disappeared in the 
 sight, and was never replaced. 
 
 But the equivocal or delusive exclamation of 
 
 Paix au Peuple ! Guerre au Gowcernement Anglois\\ ! 
 still remained, as it had been long scrawled on the walls of 
 
 * The French Nation acknowledges the Supreme Being and the immortality 
 ©f the soul. 
 
 f Citizens respect the national property. 
 
 | Citizens respect the property of others. It is the fruit of their labour an4 
 the reward of their industry. 
 
 § Liberty, Equality, Fraternity, or Death! 
 
 | Pease to the People! War to the Government of England. 
 
TRAVELS THROUGH 
 
 theatres and guard-houses ; for the French invariably 
 profess the utmost consideration fpr their bnvve enemies the 
 English, and veiit all their rage upon Pitt, with a prolonged 
 Diable ! 
 
 The impositions of government since the Revolutionary 
 rftervescencehas subsided, are now again as patiently suffered 
 as ever they were under the ancien regime. 
 
 A Frenchman never says a word about politics. His un- 
 failing topics are the opera and the theatre — the last battle 
 or the next review. Every town of any size in France 
 boasts its spectacle^ but it takes all the population of the 
 South, including Lyons, and Bourdeaux, Nisraes, Toulon, 
 and Marseilles, to support a single provincial newspaper. 
 Even the Paris journals arc squeezed into a single half sheet, 
 Send only perused to amuse a lounge in the alleys of the 
 Palais Jioyal, or the mall of the Thuillerics, or to kill time 
 at the traitenr's while coffee is preparing, or dinner serving 
 up. 
 
 Under the Princes of the House of Eourbon,the oppressed 
 people frequently revenged themselves upon their supine or 
 vicious Monarchs, when rioting in all the omnipotence of 
 Versailles, with lampoons of the most cutting irony, some of 
 "which, though well known, 1 cannot forbear repeating, as 
 proofs that hollow blasts against religion and royalty pre- 
 ceded the earthquake of the Revolution. 
 
 When Louis XIV forbade the repetition 1 of the pretended 
 miracles that were wrought at the tomb of a certain abbe in 
 Paris, somebody wrote upon the wall of the church-yard, 
 
 De par le Roi! Defense a Dieu 
 De faire miracle en ce lieu*. 
 
 — 
 
 And the equestrian statue of his successor, in the beautiful 
 square that once bore his name, was inscribed, like another 
 tomb-stone, with a provisional epitaph : 
 
 Ci git notre Roi, comme il est a Versailles, 
 Sans foi, sans loi, et sans entraillesf. 
 
 The statue itself, a noble production of the chisel of Bou- 
 chardon, was placed upon, an elevated pedestal, supported 
 
 * By Royal mandate, G — d's forbid 
 To heal the sick or raise the dead. 
 + Behold our royal master in monumental stone, 
 
 M lawless, faithless, braialess, as when upon the throne, 
 
Switzerland and italy. 
 
 by the cardinal virtues* and the adulatory arrangement gave 
 occasion to the cutting gibe^ 
 
 Bouchardon est un animal, 
 
 Et son ouvrage fait pitie, 
 tl monte le Vice a cheval, 
 
 Et laisse les Vertus a pied*.) 
 
 Upon this very spot, the statue having been overthrown, 
 and broken to pieces, the thirtieth sovereign of a dynasty, 
 which had reigned in France a thousand years, lost his head 
 Upon a public scaffold, under the affectionate exclamation 
 of his trembling confessor : 
 
 Son of St. Louis , ascend to Heaveri! 
 
 In Italy, at the boundary of every district, especially in 
 the kingdom of Naples, you behold the apparatus of the 
 crucifixion, completely furnished with the reed, the spear 
 and the sponge ; and your eyes are continually saluted with 
 little images of the Virgin, or coarse paintings representing 
 to the life, monks and friars in the act of delivering out of 
 the flames of purgatory the holy souls of the faithful. [Le 
 anime sante del purgatorio.] 
 
 Upon the fronts of churches and the frontispieces of altars, 
 a protestant eye is there often offended with the incongruous 
 dedication of 
 
 D>EO ET DIVO ANTONIO, OR FRANCESCOf; 
 
 and beholds with aversion the adoration of the Virgin Mary^ 
 under the heathen deification of 
 % 
 
 REGINA CCELlf, 
 
 or the antichristian attribute of 
 
 DEIPARA IN COSiUM ASSUMPTA$. S 
 
 * O fie, Bouchardon, 
 
 What a pitiful brute, 
 To set Vice on horseback, 
 And Virtue on foot, 
 f To God and St. Anthony, or St. Francis. 
 J Queen of Heaven. 
 
 § Mother of God, taken up into Heaven, 
 SWITZERLAND. J ii 
 
250 TRAVELS THROUGH 
 
 One may trace the character of the principal nations of 
 Europe in the appellations of their ships of war. 
 For instance, when we read in the newspapers, of 
 
 The Ocean, \ 
 
 The Goliah f mt mt 
 
 The Terrible, or f 
 
 The Invincible, j 
 
 The Vulture sloop, or 
 
 The Spitfire bomb ketch, we perceive the 
 furious spirit of the Mistress of the Deep. 
 
 The threatening and bombastic vanity of the French, is 
 equally indicated by their 
 
 Sans Pareils, 
 Temeraires, and their 
 Vengeances ; 
 
 While the supine devotion of the Spaniards, and the snug 
 ceconomy of the Dutch, are characterised by the weight of 
 metal of 
 
 II San Josef, or 
 La Mad re de todos los Santos, 
 [The Mother of all the Saints.] 
 And the shallow draft of the broad sixty fours, and spreading 
 Indiamen, which sail from the flat coast of Holland under 
 the homely denomination of 
 
 De Vryheid, 
 . De Brodershap, or 
 De Vrouw een Zulke. 
 [Good Wife such-a-nne.] 
 The British Navy, which uow rides paramount upon the 
 roaring deep, though Spain once fitted out an armada that 
 was judged invincible, and Holland long afterward disputed 
 with 1 he Queen of the Ocean the empire of the seas, has been 
 imperceptibly created by the trade of the nation, while that 
 of the French is occasionally puffed up by the spirit of the 
 
 people. . 
 
 One is the hardy offspring of individual activity. The 
 other is the puny heir of national pride. One is com* 
 manded by practical theorists, the other by theoretical prac- 
 titioners. . 
 
 But French and English philosophers and speculates 
 stand upon equal ground. They discovered at the same 
 moment the principle of the telegraph to regulate the mo- 
 tions of their hostile fleets. By this compendious operation 
 a few minutes is sufficient to convey from London to Ports- 
 mouth, or from Paris to E -est, the will of the First Consul, or 
 the directions of the Admiralty. 
 
SWITZERRLAND AND ITALY. 
 
 251 
 
 The sign-posts of inns, and other public exhibitions, are 
 equally characteristic of national biasses. 
 
 In England it is the King's Head, or that of the Admiral 
 who gained the last sea-tight— a Black Bull— or a Red Lion; 
 and the rooms are hang with some naval victory, or the 
 racers that have won plates at Newmarket. 
 
 In a French town you shall be advertised at the Chapeau 
 d'or, formerly perhaps La Couronne Royale, " Ici on loge 
 a pied et a cheval* ;" and within you may inform yourself 
 at leisure of the next spectacle, or the last review. 
 
 In Catholic countries you may dine at an Aibergo Reale, 
 upon the fare of a muleteer, and lodge in a chamber hung 
 with as many crucifixes and Madonnas as would furnish the 
 cell of a monk. 
 
 Many of the foregoing circumstances may appear at first 
 sight incredibly absurd, but most national peculiarities are 
 the result of causes and necessities which pass unobserved, 
 while their effects are obvious to censure or approbation. 
 
 Thus the fiat bottoms and blunt prows of Dutch mer- 
 chantmen have been formed upon the sands of their coast, 
 and if the naval genius of Britain has originated from her 
 insular situation, and innumerable sea ports, the undaunted 
 spirit of France may be as probably deduced from the en- 
 joyment of a cheerful climate invigorating the animal 
 spirits, without requiring laborious exertion. 
 
 Perhaps the superstitious devotion of the South of Eu- 
 rope, alike prevalent under the ancient and modern empire of 
 Rome, may be also referred to the influence of a relaxing 
 atmosphere, which disposes the body to sensual indulgences, 
 and the mind to indolent contemplations. 
 
 But it is a more palpable fact, that Grecian sculpture sprung 
 out of the quarries of Paros in a genial atmosphere, and 
 that British ingenuity owes its origin to the necessities of an 
 uncomfortable climate, supplied by mines of coal and iron. 
 
 It can hardly be doubted that Egypt owed its astronomical 
 ideas to an unclouded sky, and conceived the design of its 
 massy structures among rocks of granite ; as Rome planned 
 its extensive edifices amidst mountains of free stone, while 
 the still barbarous gable ends of Germany and Holland be- 
 speak the meanness of their naiive materials ; and under an 
 unfosteriiig sun, all the wealth of England is never likely 
 to rival the pride of her nearest neighbour, in the arts of 
 sculpture and architecture. 
 
 * Entertainment for Man and Horse. 
 
 i i2 
 
TRAVELS THROUGH 
 
 A certain Great Personage, who patronises the Royal Aca« 
 demy of London, is said to have early declared his opinion, 
 that England was too cold a country for sculpture ; and the 
 absurdity of shivering through marble halls and open por- 
 ticos, in a climate which requires comfortable accommoda- 
 tions three fourths of the year , has been so universally ob- 
 served, that every modern improver builds his house by the 
 rules of convenience, and only distributes his grounds by 
 those of taste. 
 
 In England, where the day approaches twilight darkness 
 one half of the year, while commerce furnishes plenty of 
 train oil, every town of any size is well lighted at night, 
 and the streets of London, nay the public roads for five 
 miles round the metropolisy^shine every evening with innu- 
 merable lamps ; while in the happier climates of the South, 
 Paris itself is but scantily hung with reverberators suspended 
 'by ropes over the middle of the streets ; and Rome and Na- 
 ples would be left in total darkness, if it were not for the 
 flambeaux of footmen, and the glimmering lamps that twinkle 
 before Madonnas. 
 
 In England the various arts of agriculture, manufactures, 
 and commerce, have been improved to a degree of perfection, 
 of which little idea can be formed by any thing to be seen 
 elsewhere, though the French cultivate their vines with a 
 great deal of skill, and their manufactures of china, tapes- 
 try and plate glass are perhaps unequalled : but their social 
 gaiety is ill adapted to the tedious and solitary operations 
 of commerce and colonisation. Witness the little progress 
 that was made in Canada, while the British colonies were 
 rising into an independent empire ; and the instability of 
 their possessions in both the Indies, which have invariably 
 sunk under the ascendancy of Britain. 
 
 Immense wealth has been the consequence of patient and 
 persevering industry. Improvements of every kind have 
 kept equal pace in England, the gravel turnpikes rattle 
 with the chariots of the nobility and gentry, the post- 
 chaises of genteel travellers, and mail-coaches driven in a 
 style of elegance unknown elsewhere; while the paved 
 roads of France exhibit nothing like riding for pleasure but 
 two-wheeled post-chaises, clumsy stage-coaches, swagging 
 heavily along with a calash before, and a baggage waggon 
 behind, and flying machines for conveying the mail, which 
 jresemble an ammunition cart, or the hearse of an hospital. 
 Alike in the cabriolet and in tiie voiture, the harness is tied 
 
SWITZERLAND AND ITALY. 
 
 253 
 
 together with ropes, and the passengers stream thro ugh the 
 country in their night-caps. 
 
 Only at Paris is it thought necessary to appear with de- 
 cency, and even there, whatever was the case before the Re- 
 volution, you now see nothing like the trim equipages of 
 Pall-mall or Hyde-park. 
 
 There the coachman, an elderly domestic, appears with 
 all the gravity of decorum in a bob wig and laced hat, and 
 the footmen, of whom more than two are rarely crowded on 
 at a time, as is often done upon the Continent, are the tallest 
 and handsomest fellows you see, in rich liveries — their 
 hats fiercely cocked, and their feet on tip-toe, with canes 
 or umbrellas in their hands. 
 
 On an excursion into the country the chariot and four 
 flies rapidly along the highway, with a snug postillion upon 
 each pair, in a jockey cap, a tight jacket, and leather 
 - breeches, booted and spurred — a couple of ont-riders gal- 
 loping after. 
 
 At Paris, for want of this attention to propriety, the 
 coachman often looks more like a gentleman than his master, 
 and the maccaroni footman might pass for a beau of the ton. 
 
 But upon the public roads, the garcons of the post- 
 houses, an establishment which has been suffered to retain 
 its anti-revolutionary privileges, are to the full as inattentive 
 to the duties of their station as our American domestics. 
 The hostler never troubles himself to open the door of your 
 chaise, or to put up the step for you, and the postillion 
 will receive his bonne-main , though half as much again as is 
 given in England, without ever saying he thanks you, much 
 less stirring his hat. — Nay his discontented rapacity often 
 urges him to as>k for, quelque chose pour boire* into the 
 bargain. 
 
 In France the Consular reviews, diplomatic entertain- 
 ments, and anniversary rejoicings, amuse the public, and 
 absorb the wealth of individuals or the state, in conjunction 
 with balls and operas, kept mistresses, and games of 
 chance. 
 
 In England, public dinners, routs, and masquerades, 
 are often the occasion of incredible expence. Thousands 
 are frequently pledged upon the event of a horse-race, and 
 whole estates are sometimes risqued and thrown away upon 
 a cast of the die. 
 
 In Italy, the church itself is a fashionable place of amuse- 
 
 * Something to drink. 
 
254 
 
 TRAVELS THROUGH 
 
 merit, since the ceremonies of the choir pervert it into an 
 opera, to which nothing is wanting but the ballet— Well 
 might the Indian Chief who was taken to church at Phila- 
 delphia, and found his native veneration for the Deity dis- 
 turbed by the customary rotation of the protestant service- 
 well might he have said, if lie had Avandered as far from his 
 native woods as the plains of Italy, and beheld the perpetual 
 repetition of the mass : " These people teaze the good spirit 
 too much." 
 
 The only extravagances of princes and cardinals is the 
 building and furnishing of palaces, for churches are no 
 longer erected even in Italy, and the follies of the carnival 
 are too childish to be costly. The poor are every where 
 seen basking in the sunshine, or reclining in the shade, 
 willingly relinquishing all the comforts and conveniences 
 which might be procured by industry, for idleness and ease. 
 
 Thieves and beggars are accordingly the pest of Italy, 
 and Italian jails are themselves a nuisance. They frequently 
 open upon the most frequented streets by large grated win- 
 dows, through which the miserable wretches confined within 
 may be botli seen and heard, to the great annoyance of pas- 
 sengers. For European jails are not like those of the county 
 towns in America, often inhabited by nobody but the 
 jailer; and the barbarous custom of whipping criminals 
 through the streets of a populous city, abolished in Phila- 
 delphia even before the reformation of the penal laws, is 
 still practised under the priestly government of Rome, with 
 all its savage accompaniments, so debasing to humanity. 
 
 The petty states of Italy now generally settle their differ- 
 ences without appealing to the sword, but a protestant is 
 astonished to find so little cordiality between neighbouring 
 nations, professing filial obedience to the same Spiritual 
 Father. Their unity is by no means cemented by their de- 
 votion. It is a truth, which no pains are taken to conceal, 
 that the Piedmontese hate the Genoese — the Genoese hate 
 the Tuscans— the Tuscans hate the Venetians— the Vene- 
 tians hate the Romans — the Romans hate the Neapolitans — 
 and so round. Yet no Sectarian Innovators there disturb 
 the tranquillity of established functionaries by superior fer- 
 vor ; all confide alike in the intercession of saints, and 
 equally rely upon purgatorial purification. They worship 
 the same objects of adoration, and the same orders of monks 
 and nuns are every where supported for the convenience of 
 vicarious mortification. 
 Yet the friars of catholic countries are neither so numerou's 
 
SWITZERLAND AND ITALY. 
 
 255 
 
 nor so rich as protestant travellers usually represent them. 
 Many of them labour for their own support— -live upon lit- 
 tle—sleep on straw— and rise at midnight to perform their 
 orisons ; and if in Italy eighty or ninety thousand monks 
 lead a life of comparative inutility, we should not forget 
 that two or three hundred thousand soldiers are not better 
 employed in Prussia, in brushing their uniforms, and 
 shouldering their firelocks. * 
 
 In Holland and Switzerland the people are all immersed 
 in business, or secluded in retirement; you there see no pa- 
 rade of equipage— no throngs of idleness. 
 
 A Hollander or a Swiss, with more condescension than an 
 Englishman, and less obsequiousness than a Frenchman, is 
 irksomely attentive, and fatiguingly polite. 
 
 In Dutch and Swiss towns, the antiquated gentry strutting 
 in blue and powder, contrive to be troublesome even to 
 strangers of any appearance, by formal salutes. Among 
 themselves it was a farce to see two solemn prigs greet each 
 other with due decorum. By the time the arm was raised 
 to the head, and the hat firmly grasped in the right hand, 
 the social beings had generally passed each other without 
 saying a word, and the respective hats often scraped the 
 ground at a distance of twenty yards from the place of 
 meeting. 
 
 Yet in the church these scrupulous professors of the re- 
 formed faith, like the Protestants of France, often sit with 
 their hats on, because their ancestors refused to uncover 
 themselves before the mass, or the mass priest. 
 
 At Amsterdam the old cloaths-man [of London] croaking 
 like an American bull frog, and the puppet show-man and 
 his wife [of Paris] are converted into Psalm-singers, who 
 perambulate the most populous streets, with edifying 
 ditties. 
 
 There industry is the order of the day, and even mastitt 
 dogs are made to work like horses, to earn their ,living. 
 Upon the level roads of Holland, paved with clinkers 3 I 
 have seen a baker, his wife, and child, all riding at , once 
 in a bread cart, drawn by a dog. 
 
 In England, tradesmen and shopkeepers are sufficiently 
 imposing ; but the moment you set your foot on the Con- 
 tinent of Europe, it behoves you to be upon your guard 
 against every body with whom you have any thing to do. 
 All European mercenaries cheat if they can, and an un- 
 fledged foreigner is fair game, to be decoyed by every 
 spaniel. 
 
§56 
 
 TRAVELS THUOUGH 
 
 When I first passed through France, I always gave what 
 •was asked, with native confidence and good faith; but in 
 Italy I learned to chaffer with cheats, and am persuaded 
 that I could travel over the same ground again at half the 
 expence. 
 
 In England the domestics at inns, and even at gentlemen's 
 houses, expect or demand, a douceur ; but the system of 
 imposition is carried upon the Continent to its ne plus ultra. 
 Ingenious afterclaps are tacked to every agreement ; and 
 you are dexterously shuffled off with coin short of weight, i 
 
 At Rome the valet of the Cardinal who signed our pass- 
 port for Naples, waited upon us the next morning to wish 
 us a good journey [that is, to solicit a fee] and a citizen of 
 Naples who directed me to a tradesman, with some hesita- 
 tion gave me to understand that he expected to be paid for 
 his trouble. 
 
 Indeed in Italy the pillaging of travellers has been system- 
 atically arranged. The language master who engages your 
 lodging, receives from your landlord a stipend during your 
 stay. The valet-de-place who hires your carriage has his 
 fee from the job-man who furnishes it, and every mechanic 
 you employ is taxed by your courier — a troublesome attend- 
 ant you may do very well without, if you travel with a 
 vettorino. 
 
 In the middle ranks of life a Frenchman is vain and faith- 
 less, but at the same time courteous and intelligent. An 
 Englishman is haughty and severe ; but honourable and ge- 
 nerous. An Italian is passionate and superstitious; but 
 loyal and devout. A Hollander is formal and parsimonious ; 
 but honest and well meaning. A Swiss, avaricious and re- 
 served ; but sober and sincere. 
 
 In point of morals, the Scotch are the most unexception- 
 able people in Europe. 
 
 The Dutch and Swiss hold the next rank in the scale of 
 morality. 
 
 Alas ! for human depravity, the most polished nations upon 
 earth are the most immoral and irreligious. Notwithstanding 
 the example of the Protestants of France, and the Dissenters 
 of England, the French and the English must be placed at 
 the bottom of the scale. 
 
 No nations upon earth are sogross in ribaldry, or so bold 
 in imprecation, as the French and the English — at once the 
 wisest and the wickedest of mankind*. 
 
 * The savages of America learn to swear in English— having no correspond 
 dent expression in their native tongues. 
 
SWITZERLAND AND ITALY. 
 
 The French and English, though nothing separates these 
 haughty rivals but a narrow channel, in one place no more 
 than twenty miles over, agree in nothing but the human 
 form ; and even that is varied into light and dark — plump 
 and spare— grave and gay. 
 
 One skims the ocean like a fish -hawk, the other flies over 
 the earth like a vulture ; if one is ail-powerful at sea, the 
 other is invincible by land ; but they are equally bold and 
 fierce, equally oppressive and rapacious, and during the 
 short intervals of national wars, one is a French dog at Lou- 
 don, the other umDiable Anglais at Paris. 
 
 Yet a foreigner in France is not reminded that he is ah 
 outlandish figure even by a look of curiosity, much less a 
 stare of impertinence j "whilst in England no variation from 
 the national costume passes unnoticed ; and Paddy is a ready 
 nick-name for an Irishman, Taffy for a Welshman, and 
 Sawney for a Scot. A stranger from any part of Europe 
 is generally, with the populace, a French dog, though he 
 may sometimes be distinguished for a Spanish baboon, or a 
 High Dutch bear. 
 
 Both nations, however, notwithstanding their frequent 
 wars, respect each other, as much as they undervalue all 
 others. 
 
 In both countries each readily gives the second place to 
 the other, like the commanders at Salamis, each of whom 
 ascribed the victory in the first place to himself, in the se- 
 cond to Themistocles. 
 
 An Englishman loves tea and roast beef; a Frenchman 
 prefers soup and ragouts; one often gets drunk, the other 
 never ; one is civil and reserved, the other familiar and po- 
 lite ; one will refuse a favour that is asked, the other will 
 ask one that ought not to be granted ; one keeps his servants 
 at a respectful distance, the other is as familiar with them as 
 if they were his equals : accordingly, an English waiter will 
 serve you with the most scrupulous attention, without speak- 
 ing a word ; a French garcon, on the contrary, will talk to 
 you all the time he waits, and forget to bring what you 
 order. 
 
 A Frenchman frequently sits down to table covered, an 
 Englishman never ; the one helps himself with a knife, the 
 other with a fork ; in England the ladies help the gentlemen, 
 in France the gentlemen help the ladies. 
 
 The English command women as wives, but obey them 
 as queens ; the French obey them as wives, or mistresses, 
 
 SWITZERLAND.] K k 
 
§58 TRAVELS THROUGH 
 
 but reject them as queens, by a law whose origin is as old 
 as the Monarchy, and its effects as recent as the Revolution. 
 
 Englishmen in low life rarely quarrel without fighting 
 (perhaps because they cannot rind words to express their 
 rage), but the volubility of a Frenchman permits him to 
 vent his passion in words ; in France, accordingly, people 
 will abuse one another by the hour, and separate without 
 coming to blows, whilst in England, pugilists often strip 
 without saying a word, and one or the other is sometimes 
 carried off for dead. Yet an Englishman delivers his purse 
 the moment a highwayman demands it ; while a Frenchman 
 travels armed, and often loses his life in defending his mo- 
 ney. . 
 
 An Englishman is proud, a Frenchman vain ; one lives 
 splendidly in the country, the other in town; one is most at 
 ease when alone," the other is never easy but in company ; 
 one is barely civil, the other superfluously polite; one would 
 serve you without professing the least attachment, the other 
 would declare himself wholly at your service, without the 
 smallest intention to be use of to yon. 
 
 In a word, the English temper is the most respectable, 
 though the French renders itself the most amiable. Choose an 
 Englishman for a friend— a Frenchman for an acquaintance. 
 
 In speaking, an Englishman puts the adjective before the 
 substantive ; a Frenchman the substantive before the adjec- 
 tive. In England two negatives make an affirmative; in 
 France they are indispensable to a dissent. 
 
 The English tongue has three genders, which are distri- 
 buted according to the masculine, feminine, and neutral 
 divisions in Nature ; but the French personifies stocks and 
 stones, and distinguishes sexes, even m the neutrality ot 
 the mineral and vegetable creation. Thus the majesty ot a 
 king is a creature of the feminine gender, and the pin- 
 cushion of a queen is a more masculine object than the beard 
 of her royal consort. [ 
 
 Thus as the pronoun possessive agrees with its substantive 
 in gender as well as number and case, without regard to the 
 noun personal to which it belongs, the style of the old 
 court, for instance, would have run in plain English, her 
 Majesty Louis XVI., or the Queen has lost his pin- 
 cushion. 
 
 But we ourselves sometimes contravene the peculiar con- 
 sistency of our language, by personifying a ship m the 
 feminine gender, though, as a gallant Indiaman, it should 
 
SWITZERLAND AND ITALY. 
 
 259 
 
 bear, for instance, the masculine appellation of the Henri/ 
 Dundas, or the William Penn; or as a man of war, it 
 should hoist its flag under the imposing title of Royal 
 George, or President Washington. 
 
 In reading, an Englishman lowers his voice at the end of 
 every sentence; a Frenchman as uniformly raises it. In* 
 conversation the one is often at a loss, the other never. 
 
 In England, the use of the singular number in direct ad- 
 dress has" long been exploded, except in prayer to the Al- 
 mighty. In France it is the language of contempt to those 
 you despise, and of familiarity with those you love ; but 
 alike in the church and in the conventicle, it would be 
 thought an unpardonable freedom to tutoyer le bon Dieu*. 
 
 There is little difference between the Italian, French, Spa- 
 nish, Portuguese, and, in short, all the languages of the 
 South of Europe/ out of the Turkish empire, as they are 
 mostly derived from the Latin. Accordingly a Latin scho- 
 lar is at little pains to acquire them all, and the provincial 
 dialects spoken by the peasantry of Granada, Valencia, 
 Catalonia, Languedoc, Provence, Lombardy, Tuscany, 
 Latium, and Calabria, in conjunction with the stupendous 
 remains of antique edifices, indicate to the eye and to the ear 
 that they have all once been fiefs of the same mighty em- 
 pire. 
 
 The languages of the North of Europe may be traced 
 with equal certainty to the ancient German or Teutonic ; and 
 English, Dutch, Danish, Swedish, and Norwegian, are all 
 more or less intelligible to one that understands German ; 
 at the same time that the cairns and barrows of remote an- 
 tiquity, and the Gothic spires of the middle ages, intimate 
 the common origin of Germany, England, and the North of 
 France. 
 
 In the days of Caesar, these now polished climes were in- 
 habited by savages but little removed from the Indians of 
 America, though they had discovered or acquired the use of 
 iron, and had accordingly begun the gradual process of 
 civilization. 
 
 Naked warriors struck their shields in the halls ot Odin, 
 or danced all night around a burning oak ; and savage hun- 
 ters poured out their drinking horns in druidical circles, or 
 consecrated groves, before they drank them off, brim-full, 
 in the imaginary presence of Woden or Tuisco, Friga or 
 Thor, the savage idols whose names may be so readily traced 
 
 * Thee and Thou, the Almighty. 
 K k 2 
 
TRAVELS THROUGH 
 
 from our Saxon ancestors in the vulgar nomenclature of the 
 days of the week, though it is now twelve hundred years 
 since the Dagons of the North have fallen upon their 
 thresholds before the ark of Christianity. , 
 
 France is a beautiful country, in a happy climate ? swarm- 
 ing with people, and teeming with the fruits of the earth. 
 It is notwithstanding interspersed with long chains of mouiK 
 tains, one of which, called the Cevennes, crosses it from 
 east to west, and forms a marked division between the north 
 and the south. 
 
 The climate on one side of these mountains is compared 
 by the officers who were in America during the revolutionary 
 war, to that of our middle States, producing every kind of 
 grain, and abounding in apples, peaches, and grapes ; while 
 on the other, fig-trees, vine-yards, and olive orchards, be- 
 speak that mild and even temperature which renders the 
 South of France the frequent resort of wealthy invalids, 
 retreating in winter from the fogs of England, and in sum- 
 mer from the pestilential heats of Italy. 
 
 The chain of the Cevennes separates alike the climate, 
 the productions;, the manners, the vulgar dialect, and even 
 the style of building, in the two grand divisions of the 
 same civil or military monarchy, now almost as populous 
 and powerful as the gigantic empire of which it was once a 
 distant and barbarous province. 
 
 The fair domain extends from the British Channel to the 
 Mediterranean sea, and it is bounded on either side by the 
 splendid and immoveable barriers of the Alps andPyrennees. 
 
 England is a hilly country, of a clayey soil, interspersed 
 with sand and loam, diversified by art and nature, w ith the 
 gayest cultivation, and the most gloomy barrenness. 
 
 The innumerable country-seats of the gentry, and the 
 splendid mansion-houses, or antiquated castles of the nobi- 
 lity, embosomed in majestic woods, and overlooking exten- 
 sive lawns, animated with sheep or deer, and ornamented 
 with terminating objects — a temple or. an obelisk — a statue 
 or a vase, screened from familiar view by knots of shrub- 
 bery, connected by a winding walk, or a meandering stream, 
 are indescribably beautiful and picturesque. Village spires 
 peep from every coppice, and frowning ruins, fringed with 
 ivy and grey with moss, preserve to an enlightened age the 
 characteristic outlines of monastic superstition, or baronial 
 ferocity. 
 
 Even the towns and villages, several of which may gene- 
 rally be seen at once in so open a country, are much more 
 
SWITZERLAND AND ITALY. 
 
 261 
 
 ornamental as distant objects than the scattered houses of our 
 American towns, however the latter may boast of broad 
 streets and intermediate gardens. They are also romanti- 
 cally crowned with Gothic pinnacles, an interesting addi- 
 tion which our American scenery must ever want. 
 
 But these pleasing objects are sadly contrasted by the 
 heaths and the forests, the wolds and the fens, which are 
 more or less infested by robbers, and frequently display a - 
 dismal exhibition of civilized barbarity, in the mutilated 
 figures of highwaymen hanging in chains. 
 
 If you stop at one of the rural seats toward the close of 
 day, a surly mastiff will meet you at the gate; you will 
 find the doors locked and bolted, and the shutters barred ; 
 and when you retire for the night, you will be terrified 
 by the sinister apparatus of an alarum bell at every win- 
 dow. 
 
 Lone houses, as single habitations are here expressively 
 called, are furnished with a great bell on the roof, by which 
 the neighbours may be called up in case of an attack ; and 
 the neighbouring cottagers are advertised, that the first man 
 who reaches the spot when the bell rings shall be amply re- 
 warded, iff 
 
 In London, where robberies often take place in open day, 
 the doors of dwelling-houses are kept locked, and those of 
 shops are frequently chained to the door-post, to prevent a 
 sudden surprise or retreat. 
 
 How unlike the tranquil confidence of American house- 
 keepers, which leaves our doors in Philadelphia all day 
 a-jar, and in the country, all night upon the latch. 
 
 In Scotland, the Lowlands resemble those of England, 
 though they have still less sunshine, and the hardy Scots 
 must therefore often gather their oats, a grain which thrives 
 in the most northern latitudes, in frost and snow. The 
 Highlands are bleak and barren, like the brown heaths of 
 Ossian, weltering in perpetual mists. 
 
 Wales is less mountainous and better cultivated, afford- 
 ing an endless variety of healthy excursion and romantic 
 scenery, for the wealthy valetudinarians of the metropolis. 
 
 Holland is a level plain which has been literally gained 
 from the sea by human industry, and the adventurous ac- 
 quisition is only preserved from encroachment by the conti- 
 nual care of its industrious inhabitants. 
 
 The uniform coast exhibits a continued mound of earth, 
 by which the sea is banked out, and the interior of the 
 country is universally intersected by ditches and canals, 
 
262 
 
 TRAVELS THROTTGIJ 
 
 along which run the roads, at a height of eight or ten feet 
 above the adjacent fields. 
 
 It is generally laid down in grass, and covered with large 
 herds of cattle, which are here black, the favourite colour 
 of the inhabitants, as in England they are mostly red, and 
 in France and Italy as generally white. 
 
 Flanders is the most fertile country in Europe, not so flat 
 as Holland nor so hilly as France. It is under universal 
 cultivation, and yields two crops in the year, being capable 
 of raising hemp, tobacco, and every other plant which can 
 thrive in so northerly a climate. But the unhappy peasants 
 are so generally drafted for the army, that you seldom see 
 any but women or children in the fields. 
 
 Switzerland displays the most striking contrasts imagin- 
 able. Fertile vallies surrounded by stupendous mountains 
 covered with snow, and clustered villages glittering with tin 
 spires, are seen at the foot of shining glaciers, or perpendi- 
 cular rocks, from which neighbouring torrents precipitate 
 themselves in showers of spray, v' 
 
 Italy, excepting the Cisalpine Republic, a broad valley 
 between the Alps and the Appennines, running from the 
 mountains of Savoy to the Lagunes of Venice, is a rugged 
 country, over-run by the great chain of the Appennines, 
 and its various spurs, which branch out in every direction, 
 and cut up the whole surface into contracted spots of pos- 
 sible, but neglected cultivation, rarely more than twenty 
 miles square, though the Vale of Arno is fifty miles in 
 length, and the hills of Calabria, at the foot of Italy, are 
 extremely fertile, and abound with apples as well as oranges, 
 grapes, and figs. 
 
 Throughout Europe the people are collected in towns and 
 villages, which are often inconveniently situated upon the 
 sides of hills, where they were first formed, under the pro- 
 tection of some castle or strong-hold, in days when the hand 
 of every potent Baron zoas against every man, and evert/ 
 man's hand against him. 
 
 In consequence of this circumstance, to which the poor 
 have become attached by long habit, the idea of a lone house 
 like our situations in America, where people live upon the 
 lands they farm, would be irksome to them, and even terrify- 
 ing ; and' the peasantry upon the Continent of Europe prefer 
 the inconvenience of travelling two or three miles to their 
 work, from day to day. 
 
 In England, as well as in the South of Europe, winter is 
 rather constituted by wet than cold. 
 
SWITZERLAND AND ITALY. 
 
 2G3 
 
 The drizzling fogs of England commence in September, 
 and continue with little intermission till May or June. 
 
 In France and Italy the rains set in in November, and 
 end in January, after which the air preserves the most de- 
 lightful temperature imaginable, until the summer heats 
 take place. 
 
 In Switzerland snow begins to fall in October, and re- 
 mains on the ground till May, but the summers are delight- 
 fully cool and salubrious, especially upon the mountains. 
 
 To embrace all the advantages of European climates, the 
 spring should be spent in Italy, the summer in England, 
 or in Switzerland, the autumn in Flanders, and the winter 
 in the South of France. 
 
 LETTER XXXI. 
 
 THE VOYAGE HOME. 
 
 New-York, September 2Qtk, 1802, 
 
 MY DEAR FRIENDS, 
 
 I EMBRACE the first moment of leisure to let you know 
 of our safe arrival here, after a pleasant passage of twenty- 
 seven days from the Scilly Islands to the high lands of 
 Navesink, in the ship Thames, Captain Wood, an Ameri- 
 can vessel of four hundred tons, returning home in ballast, 
 for want of freight. 
 
 On our arrival in England, we spent ten days of repose 
 at Higham-lodge, the hospitable mansion, on the borders of 
 Epping-forest, v/here so many Americans have been affec- 
 tionately fostered by their worthy countryman ; being again 
 kindly received, after an absence of two years, by the re- 
 spectable family of the D — Iw — ns. 
 
 We then took lodgings in town, to provide for ourselves, 
 and relieved the fatigues of preparation by occasional ex- 
 cursions in the environs of London, so delightfully diversi- 
 fied with tranquil villages and smiling retreats. 
 
 When we first saw Captain Wood, his mild tone and 
 diffident manners impressed us with some apprehensions for 
 our personal safety among the boisterous Sons of Ocean, 
 
264 
 
 TRAVELS THROUGH 
 
 but they were quite superfluous, as you shall hear, whetf 
 there was occasion to exert his authority. He fixed his 
 price at the first word (forty guineas), and provided for us 
 afterwards with a liberality that bordered on profusion. 
 
 We went on board at Gravesend the 17th of August, nine 
 cabin, and eleven steerage, passengers ; but a head wind pre- 
 vented our making much way. 
 
 We passed the Nore about noon the day following, and it 
 took us two days more to weather the North Foreland, and 
 get into the Downs. Here we lay at anchor three days, off 
 Sandown Castle, with twenty or thirty sail of merchantmen, 
 "waiting for a wind. Boats came alongside us every day 
 from Deal, with kegs of rum, &c. and our condescending 
 Captain suffered the sailors to buy what they chose, on ac- 
 count of their wages, threatening at the same time to take it 
 from them, if they got drunk with it. 
 
 Tired of waiting for a change of wind we made sail at 
 last with a south-wester, and that very night all our sailors 
 were so intoxicated as to be unfit for service. 
 
 Next morning the Captain took away what was left of the 
 rum, and the sailors revenged themselves upon every thing 
 that came in their way. One of them stove in the head of 
 his own keg, and another took the first opportunity to dis- 
 pute the orders of the mate, a Frenchman born, " D 1 
 
 take me," says he, " if I'll be ordered by a Frenchman." 
 This produced a scuffle, and the mate being the weakest 
 man, ran down into the cabin and whispered the Captain. 
 He jumped instantly upon deck, knocked the fellow down, 
 and laid him in irons, though several of his comrades took 
 his part, and swore they would not work a stroke ''till he 
 was let out again. 
 
 They accordingly spent the remainder of the day on the 
 forecastle, dancing and singing, in token of defiance. 
 
 The Captain kept his temper, and suffered them to vent 
 their rage as they pleased, all the afternoon. Toward even- 
 ing one of them came on the quarter-deck, and demanded 
 the freedom of his comrade. " He's my countryman," said 
 he, " and d — n me if I don't stand by him." The Captain 
 calmly replied : " If he don't beg the mate's pardon I'll 
 carry him in irons to New- York ;" and the fellow went away 
 swearing, He might work the ship himself then, for they 
 would not. 
 
 Upon this open declaration of mutiny, we began to dread 
 the most disagreeable consequences ; but were unexpectedly 
 relieved from the threatening dilemma, by the offender'* 
 
SWITZERLAND AND ITALY. 
 
 265 
 
 submission, who was by this time quite tired of his irksome- 
 con fine ment. 
 
 When the irons were knocked off, he humorously cried, 
 i( Huzza for liberty!" and walked up to the Captain to ac- 
 knowledge his fault, with all the freedom of a true Jack Tar. 
 Upon which the whole crew returned to their duty, without 
 manifesting another sign of dissatisfaction during the voy- 
 age. 
 
 After beating about the Channel several days, between the 
 chalky cliffs of France and England, which have all the 
 appearance of having been disjoined by some convulsion of 
 Nature, we were glad to come to again at the Isle of Wight, 
 one of those secure harbours for ships of burthen, that will 
 ever ensure to Britain the command of the Channel, which 
 she proudly calls her own, to the Straits of Dover, though 
 France disputes the claim, from her shallow inlets, and now 
 and then scours La Mancjie, with fleets fitted out in her 
 Mediterranean or Atlantic ports, to assert her equal right to 
 the Pas de Calais. 
 
 Here we lay two or three days more off Spithead, in sight 
 of the Wooden Walls of Old England, stretched out like 
 floating castles, their dark and lofty sides presenting a terri- 
 fic front of two or three tier of cannon. 
 
 We made sail again on the 28th, with a light breeze, not 
 yet fair enough to lay our course down the Channel ; and on 
 the 31st we were called on deck, as we were going to break- 
 fast, to take our leave of British ground, the light-house on 
 the Scilly Isles being just discernible through the mist, on 
 our starboard quarter, distant about a league. 
 
 By ten o'clock a large frigate hove In sight, standing di- 
 rectly for us from the south-west. She spoke us, and learned 
 with pleasure our bearing and distance from the Scillys, as 
 she was bound for London— long out from the West Indies. 
 
 Other vessels were seen afterwards during several days, 
 steering across the trackless ocean, directly for the British 
 Channel, like so many living cre atures, aiming in concert 
 at the same object, by instinctive impulse. 
 
 I often in calm weather seated myself ui the netting* of the 
 bowsprit to see our ship plough her course from day to day 
 upon the boundless deep, which must have remained an 
 impassable barrier between Europe and America, if it had 
 not been for the fortuitous or providential discovery of the 
 magnetic needle, but a little before Columbus was inspired 
 with the bold idea of exploring the ocean in search of an- 
 other world. 
 
 SWITZERLAND. J Ll 
 
266 
 
 TRAVELS THROUGH 
 
 The surface of the sea furnishes a palpable demonstration 
 of the rotundity of the globe. From the deck of a ship you 
 plainly perceive yourself to be upon the swell of a ball, 
 gradually rounding off on all sides, at the distance of no 
 more than two or three miles. Beyond this circle the masts 
 and sails of approaching vessels may be seen as if rising out 
 of the water, more or less, according to their distance. 
 
 A sail must be a hundred feet high to be seen from the 
 deck three leagues off; but from the topmast head it would 
 be discoverable a league farther, and accordingly, in time 
 of war, a sailor is always stationed aloft to look out a- head. 
 
 High lands are discerned from sea at a distance propor- 
 tioned to their height. The glistening summits of the white 
 hills in Canada are sometimes discovered when seventy miles 
 off, and in a brighter atmosphere the top of Mount Etna may 
 be clearly perceived from the island of Malta, a distance of 
 a hundred and twenty miles. 
 
 Small as is the visible horizon at sea, the standard of phi- 
 losophic observation equally reduces the apparent height of 
 the roaring billows, which are supposed never to rise more 
 than nine feet above the level of the ocean, that is to say, 
 eighteen from the trough of the sea, though they swell into 
 mountains, and sink into vallies, when viewed through the 
 magnifying medium of personal danger. 
 
 Even the roaring winds are never let loose with unbounded 
 fury ; they blow but their stated periods of twelve, twenty- 
 four, thirty-six, or forty -eight hours, and never exceed thirty 
 miles an hour in velocity, so that a tight ship has nothing 
 to fear but a lee-shore. 
 
 A prime sailer rarely goes more than twelve miles an hour, 
 and has never been known to exceed fifteen ; yet American 
 vessels have sailed from Boston or New- York, with a brisk 
 north-wester, and kept the wind to the European coast. 
 
 A well-rigged vessel may lay her course within five points 
 of the wind ; and a good ship may be so trimmed for sailing 
 as to keep her direction for hours together, without any body 
 at the helm. 
 
 At sea,a believer in the active superintendance of a graci- 
 ous Providence, observes with complacence how the winds 
 vary to suit every course, and perceives the aptitude of the 
 trite adage, 
 
 It's an ill wind that blows nobody good. 
 
 When our worthy predecessors, of different religious perr 
 
SWITZERLAND AND ITALY. 
 
 267 
 
 suasions, first ventured to cross the Atlantic, to avoid the 
 persecutions to which they were alternately subjected under 
 the intolerant spirit of predominating churches, they studied 
 safety more than expedition ; they neither sought nor avoided 
 the various influence of the gulph stream ; they took in sail, 
 by way of precaution, at the apprehension of a storm ; and 
 they always lay-to at night. 
 
 Thus three or four months were often spent on a passage 
 which is now made in as many weeks ; and no longer ago 
 than the middle of the last century, a single Londoner sailed 
 out of the port of Philadelphia, to procure the unrivalled 
 manufactures of Britain, and returned again once a year. 
 
 Since the Revolution, 1 need not add, our East Indiamen 
 sail half round the globe, and return within the year, freight- 
 ed with the luxuries of the East ; and innumerable whalers 
 explore the Arctic and Antarctic Circles, in search of the 
 monsters of the deep. 
 
 May the posterity of those Christian Worthies who planted 
 the wilds of America for the liberty of worshipping God ac- 
 cording to their consciences, preserve, amidst unexampled 
 prosperity, the civil and religious privileges thus purchased 
 by their ancestors ! 
 
 When we had been out four days, we were spoke by a 
 brig from Newfoundland. After giving her the necessary 
 information, our Captain wished her safe in, adding, as he 
 laid by his trumpet, " with a good north-easter." The wind 
 actually sprang up from that quarter during the night, and 
 in five days wafted us nine hundred miles, notwithstanding 
 we carried away the first night our main-top-mast and main- 
 top-gallant-mast, with all the sails set, by a roll of the ves- 
 sel meeting a sudden flaw of wind. 
 
 As it happened in the dusk of the evening, nothing could 
 be done but make fast for the night ; yet in three days' time 
 we were completely refitted, the late mutineers, being some 
 of the best hands on board, exertuig t hemselves to the ut- 
 most. They would cling to the ropes like cats, and kick- 
 ing oft" their shoes, run themselves up or down a single line. 
 
 The wind now shifted to the south, but we were content 
 to keep in high northern latitudes, to avoid the contrary 
 current of the gulph stream; and on the twelfth day from 
 the Scillys, we perceived the sea to lose its deep blue, as it 
 always does upon soundings. As soon as it assumed a 
 greenish cast we hove the lead, but foun^l no bottom. 
 
 The next day however we brought ground at five- and - 
 thirty fathom, on the banks of Newfoundland, and tke 
 
 l 12 
 
268 
 
 TRAVELS THROUGH 
 
 wind dying away we lay to, threw out our fishing lines, and 
 soon had fifty cod-fish, and two halibut, slapping their 
 tails upon the deck. 
 
 It was a beautiful sight to see the fish drawn up through 
 the transparent waves. Some of them were cooked for sup- 
 per, and eaten w.th as good a relish as if they had been 
 better dressed, as it usually happens with provisions at a 
 half-way house. 
 
 During this pleasant run we had often seen shoals of por- 
 poises racing alongside, jumping from wave to wave, and 
 diving under our bows for booty, as they do round a shark, 
 mistaking the ship for some voracious monster in pursuit of 
 prey. 
 
 When this happened in the night they would shine like 
 silver, while the phosphoric substances always floating 
 in salt wafer, spangled with gold, the darkly undulating 
 masses foaming with the rusli of the vessel. 
 
 At other times whales of the grampus kind were seen 
 spouting upon the surface of the water, and diving with a 
 heavy motion, erecting their forked tails as they went slowly 
 down. 
 
 The wind continuing south-west we were soon surrounded 
 with fogs, with which these Banks are generally covered, 
 and for a week or ten days afterward, we had nothing to do 
 but learn sea phrases, and wish for a fair wind. 
 
 Nothing is said on ship-board as it is said on shore. A 
 fresh-water sailor soon finds he hns a language to learn not. 
 taught at grammar-schools, and is surprised to find himself 
 ignorant oi his own mother-tongue! 
 
 In short, at sea, if you do not learn to distinguish star- 
 board from larboard, you might as well not know your right 
 hand from your left; and aland-lubber that does not balance 
 himself at sea, as a sailor does on shore, will soon fetch way 
 with a lee lurch, and maybe glad to bring up against a 
 stauncheon or a stay-brace. But the most careless fellow on 
 board quickly learns to mind the weather hand; and if he be 
 not a very dull scholar, he soon distinguishes, amid the roar 
 of winds and waves, and the rattle of sails, cordage, and 
 tackling, the more or less favourable sounds of, 14 square 
 the yards !" or, " hawl taught the lee-braces !" He dreads 
 an approaching storm, when all is to be made snug, and the 
 topsails double-reefed. But his courage returns when he 
 hears, " all hands aloft ! Shake the reefs out of the topsails 
 fore and aft, and loose topgallant-sails!" which is soon an- 
 swered from tlie yards, with "let go the reef-tackles!"— 
 
SWITZERLAND AND ITiALY. 9,69 
 
 ** Aye, aye'. 1 " replies Jack from below — casts off, and cries, 
 " ail gone 1" 
 
 Some phrases however arc too complicated to be learned at 
 the first lesson. Such for instance as, " loose the foretop- 
 gallant-backstay !" or, " hawl taught the maintop-bow* 
 line n 
 
 Others are simple enough, though outlandish, as if you 
 should ask the man at helm what o'clock it is, you might 
 be answered, " it's running six, Sir;" or if you listened to 
 him that heaves the load while in shoal water, you might 
 hear him sing out, a and a quarter seven !" 
 
 The colloquial phraseology of a sailor differs no less from 
 the vernacular tongue, and its profane drollery often pro- 
 vokes a laugh from the gravest disapprobation. " D — n it, 
 Ji -.'•:{< V says one, when the Captain was ashore, " now I'll 
 be boatswain, and you feimll be boatswain's mate : when I 
 cry pul!, do you bawl.'* 
 
 A true sailor will never go to sea while he has any moner 
 left, and if he has not had a chance of spending the last 
 farthing when he ships himself for a voyage, he'll throw it 
 away, that it may'nt bum a hole through his pocket. But 
 it oftcner happens that Jack has spent all before the ship is 
 ready to sail, in which case he'll borrow what he wants of 
 some prudent messmate, to be repaid with twice as much 
 when he gets his wages. Characteristic improvidence, not 
 perhaps to be regretted, if commerce is beneficial to society, 
 as few would be likely to follow the seas, after the first ebul- 
 lition of curiosity and adventure, without being sharply 
 pressed by the spur of necessity. 
 
 Mm of all nations mix together on the ocean; but the 
 English language is the common medium of communication, 
 being almost as universal at sea. as the French is on land. 
 
 On the 26th, though immersed in a thick fog, the Captain 
 thought us near enough to Cape Sable, the southernmost 
 extremity of Nova Scotia, to see the land ; bat the wind 
 continuing south-west, Ave were obliged to go on in uncer- 
 tainty for the Bay of Massachusetts. 
 
 Next morning the sun crossed the line, the day wore a 
 lowering aspect, and we dreaded the approaching night, 
 imbayed as we were between the shoals of JNantucket and the 
 rocks of New Hampshire. 
 
 But the wind happily veered about in the night, and by 
 next morning we had weathered the dangerous reef of sand 
 t hat stretches from the cast end of Nantucket, ten miles out 
 
270 
 
 TRAVELS THROUGH 
 
 to sea, and terminates in sunken rocks, on which many a 
 good ship has been lost. 
 
 This day we saw several vessels sailing gaily out of the 
 different ports on Long Island Sound; and about midnight 
 we heard the Captain called on deck lo see the light-house. 
 He immediately threw the lead, but rinding thirty fathom 
 water, concluded it must be a light on board some other 
 vessel, as the soundings are sufficiently regular all along the 
 American coast to indicate the distance of a day's sail from 
 land. Day-light however gradually displayed to our long- 
 ing eyes the flat shores of Long Island, and coasting them 
 along, by eight o'clock we could discern the high lands of 
 Navesink, on the easternmost point of New Jersey. 
 
 A pilot soon came aboard from one of those two-masted 
 cutters peculiar to this port, which are said to be some of 
 the swiftest sea-boats in the world. 
 
 He informed us all was well at New- York ; but that the 
 yellow fever had been again introduced into Philadelphia 
 from the wretched colony of St. Domingo. It seems the 
 absurd theory is not yet exploded, which supposes whole 
 crews, infected with a pestilential fever, less likely to com- 
 municate their disease, than putrid vegetables to create it ! 
 
 The pilot worked us into the bay with some difficulty, for 
 want of wind, and we cast anchor that night in sight of the 
 light-house, on Sandy Hook. 
 
 Next morning we passed the Narrows, and reached the 
 Lazaretto by seven o'clock, where we were visited by the 
 Health-officer, and detained twenty-four hours, in conse- 
 quence of a misunderstanding between him and the Captain. 
 
 On the 29th we got again under sail, but were soon be- 
 calmed. We reconciled ourselves however to this second 
 disappointment, as we were now in sight of the town, and 
 could amuse ourselves with reconnoitring the beautiful 
 
 bay- 
 It here presents to the eye an expanse of seven or eight 
 
 miles over, bordered with woods, diversified with islands, 
 and crowned with the slender spires of New York, rising 
 from its neat brick buildings, interspersed with trees, and 
 scattered over a point of land half a mile wide, which is 
 bordered on each side with a thick grove of masts. 
 
 On the left hand of this lively scene the North river opens 
 majestically, two miles in width, between mountains co- 
 vered with wood to their very summits ; while the East ri- 
 ver, though an arm of the sea, opening another comma- 
 
SWITZERLAND AND ITALY. 271 
 
 nidation between the bay and the ocean, here winds to the 
 right, along its cultivated shores, in a modest channel of no 
 more than three or four furlongs. 
 
 Some friends however suspecting our detention, came 
 down for us in a periague, and toward evening we set foot 
 again on American ground — glad to leave behind us the 
 brilliant systems of European refinement, rich as they are in 
 the monuments of ancient grandeur, and the invention^ of 
 modem art. 
 
 LETT J£ li XXXII. 
 
 . — mialEBntM 
 
 AMERICAN MANNERS, AND OBSERVATIONS UPON 
 TRAVELLING. 
 
 Springfield, [AW Jersey^ Oet. 2nd, 1802. 
 
 w E arrived here yesterday, in good health and spirits, 
 and although we have had the pleasure of finding most of 
 our relations here to welcome our return, 1 cannot forbear 
 sketching off the strong impressions of contrast, at first sight 
 of my own country after so long an absence. 
 
 The flat shores of Long Island, and the high lands of 
 Navesink, covered with evergreens, looked to us at a dis- 
 tance, as if they had got on a winter coat of sheltering 
 woods ; and as we approached the coast, the farm-houses 
 scattered along shore, without a town or even a village in 
 sight, had an air of comfortable mediocrity, equally remote 
 from the cottages and the palaces of Europe. 
 
 Large orchards of apples and peaches, interspersed with 
 the luxuriant growth of Indian corn, marked the influence 
 of a genial climate ; while immense fallows, carelessly railed 
 in, bespoke, the ease and independence of unfettered cul- 
 tivation. 
 
 Every American heart on board swelled at the grateful 
 sight; and when we landed at the wharfs, I could scarcely" 
 refrain from embracing my native soil. 
 
 New- York, however, looked to us like a genteel village, or 
 the half-country half-town retreats of the wealthy citizens of 
 London, the houses comparatively low, and of unequal 
 
272 
 
 TRAVELS THROUGH 
 
 height, being interspersed with vacant lots, and the streets 
 often lined with trees, under which occasional passengers 
 seemed to saunter along, equally exempted from the hurry 
 of competition, and the obstruction of carts and coaches, of 
 which now and then one passed quietly along — the carmen 
 sitting lazily upon their loads. 
 
 A saucy young Londoner of the party, observed, that the 
 old folks wanted their hats brushed, and their shoes' cleaned ' ; 
 and that the young fellows ought to have thrown aze ay 
 their half-boots seven years ago — and as for the shops, he 
 declared the y were as dirty as pig-sties. 
 
 We however, looking at the fair side of the picture, ad- 
 mired the mild and unassuming air of every body we met, 
 and were gratified by the respectful attention with which we 
 were considered as strangers, both high and low giving us 
 the wall in the streets, and occasionally holding the gates 
 open for us in the public .walks, where we were charmed 
 with the mild countenances and unafiected deportment of the 
 young ladies. 
 
 But nothing struck us more forcibly than the friendly 
 looks and gentle manners of the custom-house officers, from 
 the tide-waiter to the collector of the port, not one of whom 
 displayed the power of imposition to extort a fee for not 
 exerting it . 
 
 Some trifling objects intended for presents were allowed to 
 pass without being seized as a perquisite o f office, and per- 
 sonal commodities" being duty free, we paid 18tf. for a permit 
 to land immediately the very articles which had been de- 
 tained a week in London, at the public stores, turned upside 
 down by the searchers, and with difficulty got out of their 
 harpy clutches, after paying in lighterage, porterage, search- 
 er's fees, duty, Custom-house dues, and broker's commission, 
 in the whole, something more than tive guineas. 
 
 It was, notwithstanding, some time before I could pass 
 through a croud, without guarding against pick-pockets; 
 and whenever a person meanly dressed gave me the way, I 
 put my hand into my pocket to feel if 1 had any pence for 
 beggars . 
 
 The sight of Negroes was at first a little surprising; and 
 the blunt manners of domestics amazed us greatly, after 
 having been served cap in hand through England. 
 
 Every body looked pale and thin after a hot summer, and 
 people of all ranks bad an air of rustic simplicity, being 
 mostly clothed in light drabs. 
 
 Our friends welcomed us with such large fires, that we 
 
SWITZERLAND AND ITALY. 
 
 273 
 
 could hardly bear their rooms, feeling ourselves no way 
 chilly in this dry climate, with the air of October; and we 
 were obliged to reduce our voices a note or two, finding our 
 European tones a pitcli above the common key. 
 
 The fruit-stalls in the streets were loaded with apples, 
 peaches, pears, &c. at two or three for a penny. 
 
 The fish-market of New-York is probably one of the finest 
 in the world, whether for cheapness, excellence, or variety. 
 The fish are brought alive from the adjacent boats, and the 
 rarest are sold as low as five or six cents a pound. A gen- 
 tleman with whom we dined one day, told us he had once 
 gone on purpose to count up the number of sorts, and that 
 he had made up twenty-seven different kinds, beside shell- 
 fish, then in the market. 
 
 Poultry and wild-fowl are also cheap and excellent. Half 
 a dollar, or at most three quarters, will buy a pair of ducks 
 or dunghill fowls, and something more a goose or a turkey. 
 But butcher's meat iss inferior to the English, both the cli- 
 mate and soil of England being peculiarly favourable to 
 grazing. Justly may an Englishman boast the mutton, the 
 veal, and the beef of Old England. 
 
 The streets in the old parts of New- York are nearly as 
 crooked as those of European cities; but the new parts are 
 run out in straight, lines. That called the Broad Way, runs 
 direct from the country, and winds gently round toward, 
 the water, till it widens into a beautiful square, opening 
 over the public walks to an extensive view of the bay. 
 
 One day we rode five miles into the country, to dine with, 
 a gentleman at his seat on the East river. The table was, 
 as usual, loaded with varieties of meat, fish, and fowl, gar- 
 nished with at least half a dozen kinds of vegetables, and re- 
 placed by all the fruits in season. His house is a large 
 framed building, painted white, in the same compact style 
 with many others in the neighbourhood, which have been 
 run up since the city has been so frequently visited with the 
 yellow fever. They are generally erected upon square lots of 
 ground, regularly divided into useful enclosures, and sur* 
 rounded with trees planted for fruit or shade, with little or 
 no attention to ornament, though it would be so easy to cul- 
 tivate the natural beauties of a country abounding with 
 wood and water. 
 
 Another day we went with one of the managers to see the 
 prison, or penitentiary, lately erected upon the principle of 
 substituting useful labour to corporal punishment, for the 
 prevention of crimes. A sublime idea, uninspired by the 
 
 SWITZERLAND.* Mm 
 
274 
 
 TRAVELS fllRO'UGtf 
 
 patriotism of Solon or Lycurgus, thongli naturally flowing 1 
 from the benevolence of a christian law-giver. 
 
 It is to Perm, the founder of Pennsylvania, that the civi- 
 lized world owes the first example of a criminal code from 
 •which the punishment of death was excluded ; and though 
 after a struggle of thirty years the philanthropic attempt was 
 superseded by the sanguinary institutions of the Parent 
 State, it is stdl to his brethren in religious profession at 
 Philadelphia, that we owe the happy experiment of solitary 
 confinement, instead of public execution — of reformation, in- 
 stead of punishment*. 
 
 • The New- York Penitentiary is a large stone edifice, with 
 extensive courts, adapted to the various purposes of conve- 
 nience and security. Here the criminals are employed as 
 regularly as in a manufactory, and provided for as comfort- 
 ably as in an alms-house, at an expence incredibly small, 
 under the intelligent economy of a committee of managers, 
 who act upon principle. 
 
 We were told the cost of three good meals a day scarcely 
 exceeded a sixteenth of a dollar per head. This expence 
 is deducted from their earnings, and the surplus is laid by 
 to enable them to begin an honest course of life, at the ex- 
 piration of their term of labour ; which they frequently do, 
 under the acquired habits of industry and sobriety, in the 
 exercise of which their spirits have never been broken by 
 cruelty, nor hardened by disgrace. A few days confinement 
 on bread and water, in a solitary cell, is all the correction 
 that has ever been found necessary, to reduce the most re- 
 fractory to obediencet. 
 
 As soon as it was possible to break away from the hospita- 
 lity of the place, we set out for Springfield, in the packet- 
 boat for Amboy, preferring the water line of stages as being 
 most direct. 
 
 * I say nothing of the pretended abolition of capital punishment$, by the 
 Empress Elizabeth — It would have been more to her honour to have abolished 
 the knout — that savage relique of Russian barbarism. But (I blush for the boast 
 of civilized humanity) the torture was used in France until the reign of Louis 
 XVI. and it is whispered that the inhuman usage has been revived in the most 
 polished nation in Europe. 
 
 f The criminal lists of this institution furnish instructive lessons upon the cor- 
 ruption of great towns, the importation of foreign vices, and the depression of 
 Negro slavery. The number of offenders, compared with the number of people 
 in country places and in the capital, is as one to twenty; the proportionof these 
 who are native Americans to those who were born in foreign countries, is but as 
 four to seven, though the natives of the State, compared to foreign settlers, can 
 hardly be less than fifty to one ; and although Negroes, in or out of slavery, 
 make but a thirtieth part of the population of the State, they form one-third of 
 ike whole number of convict*. 
 
SWITZERLAND AND ITALY. 275 
 
 It was against my own inclination, fori had pleased myself 
 with the idea of riding through the delightful villages of 
 Newark, Elizabeth-town, Rahway, &c. ; but I did not re- 
 oret it afterward, as it afforded peculiar opportunities ot 
 observing the original simplicity of American manners, in a 
 part of the country less affected than usual by the continual 
 accession of foreigners. 
 
 We went on board early, and were much amused witfa 
 the friendly civility of our fellow-passengers, as they ar- 
 rived, one after theother. One of them, after bowing to 
 us respectfully, but without moving his hat, called for some 
 Hew pamphlets he had sent a-board the night before. Ihey 
 were brought to him, after some time, sadly rumpled ; but 
 instead of "swearing at the boy, he mildly exclaimed, In. 
 the name of sense, how came they so 1" Ihe boy himself, 
 I afterward remarked, only cried " Dang it ! when any 
 thing went amiss ; and the master of the vessel never spoke a 
 sharp word, during a passage tedious enough to have made 
 a Thames waterman disgorge all the imprecations ot bil- 
 lingsgate . „ _ , 
 
 We waited a whole hour for some of the passengers, and 
 when actually under weigh, lay-to a long while for one that 
 hove in sight after we were off. The tide accordingly left 
 us by the time we reached the Narrows, and we had tull 
 leisure, before it served again, to go ashore and amuse our- 
 selves 
 
 At a private house in the neighbourhood, accustomed to 
 such calls, we were entertained with bread and cheese, and 
 peaches and milk, well sugared, at oneSeighlh of a dollar 
 a-piecc ; and returning on board in a neighbour s boat, 
 without having previously ascertained what the charge 
 would be, we were told, when we asked what was to pay, 
 " You're very welcome," instead of the European What 
 you please, Sir; which always means two or three times as 
 much as a thing is worth. . 
 
 Two Frenchmen, lately arrived, complained to us, what 
 a dull place this was. The theatre had never been opened 
 once since they arrived; and as to music and dancing, they 
 believed there was no such thing in the country. J hey 
 thought the people of New- York must be all melancholy; 
 for they were always at work, and not a soul was to be 
 seen in the streets of a Sunday during church time. In 
 short, they were dying with ennui, for want of amuse- 
 ment) and had resolved, if it was no better at Philadel- 
 phia, they would go home again by the first opportunity. 
 
TRAVELS THROUGH 
 
 We assured them they would find it duller still in the 
 metropolis, as the Philadelphia™ were noted for minding 
 nothing but their own business ; and agreed, that they coukl 
 not do better than go back to France, which was (in spite 
 ot revolutions) the gayest country upon earth. 
 
 When we arrived at the stage-house next morning, there 
 was a roaring fire in the chimney ; but the landlord never 
 stirred trom his bar-room to bid us welcome; and the waiter 
 who was the eldest son of the family, answered our questions 
 in such a low voice, that it was with difficulty we learned 
 whether we could have any thing to eat in the house or not : 
 but concluding to stay to breakfast, we were soon served with 
 excellent coffee ami bread and butter, boiled eggs, and two 
 or three dishes of cold meat, the charge for all which was 
 only three-eighths of a dollar ; and when we left the house, 
 nobody cried " Pray remember the waiter !" 
 
 The stage coach was a light covered waggon, huno- with 
 curtains instead of glasses ; less genteel, to be sure, than an 
 English coach : but nobody rode on the roof, or in the 
 basket, and the horses were not galled with the weight. 
 
 The road lay several miles through a beautiful wood 
 where we admired the straightness of the trees, and the 
 smoothness of their trunks, till we reached a village called 
 hpotswood, consisting of a tavern, a shop, and a school, 
 ftonse, with half-a-dozen more framed houses, with yards 
 and gardens between them. 
 
 The country, after this, was sprinkled with farms ; and 
 two more villages occurred, at intervals of ten or fifteen 
 miles, in the same style with the former, with the addition 
 or a chiiTch without a steeple. 
 
 Not a -single beggar came out to solicit charitv, as we 
 stopped to change horses ; and the people were every where 
 decently clad, and remarkably tall and slender, with a 
 striking air of ease and independence*. 
 
 * There had been a slight frost a few days before, and the groves were now 
 arrayed in their autumnal uniform, the broad masses of fading- g-rcen being- every 
 where richly embroidered with red and yellow. The main body, consisting- 
 chiefly of the ten or twelve branches of the family of oaks, still retained a dingy 
 green for the ground of the living picture, coloured by the matchless hand of 
 Nature. Here a gum, a sassafras, or a weakling oak, formed an unbroken mass 
 ot red;— there a locust, a walnut, or a hickory, flared upon the eve with every 
 £mt of yellow ; while the lofty poplar presented a checquered curtain of alter- 
 nate hues. Here and there sheltered hickories, with yellow edg-es, reminded 
 us of a citron grove loaded with golden fruit; and variegated maples tinged at 
 once the different branches of the same tree with yellow, green, and red, in a 
 manner which would be deemed inexcusably fantastic from the brush of an 
 inferior coloimst. Now end then a sturdy oak still clad in summer green, 
 
SWITZERLAND AND ITALY. 
 
 At Crosswicks we quitted the stage, which went no farther 
 our way, and lodged there that night at a neat inn, as 
 quiet and comfortable as a private house. Here I observed, 
 at the bar, a printed list of the rates allowed by law for pub- 
 lic entertainment, which it seems is a general regulation in 
 the State of New Jersey. 
 
 Next morning we hired a carriage of the landlord, and 
 drove ten miles across natural meadows, extensive orchards, ' 
 and fields of Indian corn, in separate enclosures, interspersed 
 with clumps of wood, and enlivened by substantial farm- 
 houses, whose barn-yards swarmed with dunghill-fowls, 
 and turned out large flocks of geese and turkics. 
 
 In one of these peaceful dwellings we embraced our ex- 
 pecting friends, and vmiy wait without impatience until 
 wholesome frosts shall again purify the air of Philadelphia, 
 and permit our return to an abode of happy mediocrity, 
 endeared by absence, and enhanced by comparison. 
 
 Before I take my leave, perhaps my opinion may be ex- 
 pected, of the utility of Foreign Travel to the Youth of 
 America. 
 
 It is not unfavourable for young men of character or ca- 
 pacity, under certain restrictions. 
 
 In the old countries, few young persons travel for obser- 
 vation, who cannot afford the expensive safe-guard of a go- 
 vernor, or travelling companion, previously acquainted with 
 the languages and the manners of the countries they visit. 
 
 As long as American fortunes will hardly bear this accom- 
 paniment, I think our young men should not be trusted 
 abroad under the age of five and twenty, when their habits 
 and principles may bear the shock of the specious systems, 
 and enervating indulgences of European refinement — pos- 
 sibly increase their attachment to American simplicity, and 
 republican virtue. 
 
 At that age, if it is ever worth while for them to see other 
 countries, at least they will not be ignorant of their own, 
 
 partially concealed a vine of purple, which clinging round its trunk, and drop- 
 ping from its topmost branches, gave an idea of a giant of the forest, bleeding 
 at every pore, borne tints were mixed, as if on purpose to exhibit a combina- 
 tion of colours ; while the sycamore shewed the effect of a yellowish green, the 
 linden displayed the more brilliant mixture of a reddish yellow, and innume- 
 rable evergreens contrasted their lively verdure with the fading hues of the ash, 
 the chesnut, and other perennial plants of the majestic shrubbery of Nature. 
 
278 
 
 TRAVELS THROUGH 
 
 and they themselves, if not their fellow citizens, may profit, 
 more or less, by the opportunity of comparison. 
 
 At the distance of three thousand miles from his native 
 shores, a trueson of Columbia will feel a patriotic affection for 
 every branch of the union, from New Hampshire to Georgia. 
 If he went away with the local or the rival prejudices of a 
 Philadelphian or a New-Yorker, of a Bostonian or a Balti- 
 xnorean, he will come back a citizen of the United States. 
 
 If he was once so attached to either of the leading parties, 
 into which European politics have unhappily' divided his 
 country, as to have believed that one of them was always 
 Tight, and the other always wrong, he will be likely to see 
 through the impartial medium of distance, that the most 
 right was sometimes wrong, and the most wrong was some- 
 times right. 
 
 Leaving Ii is prejudices behind him, he will return home, 
 no longer apprehensive of serious injury to the State from 
 fellow citizens, of either party, who alike administer its go- 
 vernment, under the check of election, and the pledge of re- 
 sponsibility, though he may lament that a change in the pre- 
 sidency must displace the servants of the public through 
 every grade of administration, and that the test of eligibility, 
 "with the people themselves, is not so much those old fa- 
 shioned qualifications, plain sense and inflexible integrity, 
 as the eloquence of a barrister, or the obstinacy of a partisan. 
 
 For my own part, at that amalgamating distance, I 
 I could see but one spot in my beloved country— it is a 
 dark one — but time and principle are wearing it out — I 
 trust in God the advocates for European despotism will not 
 much longer be allowed to say, " Nothing is hereditary but 
 slaver?/ in the American Republic !" 
 
 It is undoubtedly useful to break off, now and then, from 
 the habitual routine of business, or domestic life, which may 
 be followed from youth to old age without materially in- 
 creasing the original stock of information ; but this is an ad- 
 vantage which may be procured without crossing the At- 
 lantic, within the ample boundary of the United States. 
 
 A young New Englander, for instance, may cast off the 
 leading-strings of Alma Mater, on an excursion to the Mid- 
 dle; States, so rapidly progressing since the Revolution, in 
 the arts of cultivation, and the ornaments of improvement. — 
 An elevc of the Southern States may quit the debasing vici- 
 nity of Negro quarters, with still greater advantage, to con- 
 template the industry and morality of the hardy sons of 
 the North.— A pupil of the Academies of Philadelphia,, 
 
Switzerland and Italy. 
 
 279 
 
 New-York, or Baltimore, or a graduate of the Eastern coU 
 leges,, may scour the W estcm wilds, and return with health 
 and spirits to begin the career of life. 
 
 But the isolated situation in w hich an intelligent individual, 
 may generalize his ideas, and lose the Philadelphian, or 
 the New-Yorker, in the citizen of the United States- — that 
 commanding elevation from which he may compare the ha- 
 bits of different countries, appreciate their governments and 
 laws, and weigh the various advantages of situation, and 
 the different operations of ingenuity, can only be attained 
 by a temporary expatriation from his natal soil ; during 
 which he becomes a citizen of the world, and gives himself 
 the rare opportunity of contemplating the systems of national 
 policy, in their effect upon human happiness; or if hi? 
 .constitution is rather patriotic than philosophical, of con- 
 firming or correcting, the habits of that native land, for 
 which the wisdom of Providence has universally implanted 
 a partiality which mocks at preference, and scorns com- 
 parison. 
 
 Those who visit foreign countries, however, should by 
 all means carry with them a cheerful and friendly disposi- 
 tion, as well as plenty of money, to enable them to sup- 
 port, without irritation, the fatigue of inconvenience and 
 the expence of imposition.* 
 
 They will then view with admiration the various advan- 
 tages of soil and climate — of laws and manners, and when, 
 they return home, with a rational preference for their coun- 
 try, because it best befits their own habits.of life, instead of 
 gratifying national malignity by an unfair comparison of 
 their own advantages with the disadvantages of other people, 
 they will be ratiKir disposed to justify, and adore, the im- 
 partial distribution of providential benevolence, to which 
 they have every where been witnesses. 
 
 But, alas, for human nature! corruption and refinement 
 keep equal pace, and an American parent would with diffi- 
 culty consent to indulge his son's inclination to see the 
 world, if he knew how insidiously his Darling Hope might 
 contaminate the purity of his republicanism, amid the daz- 
 zling splendour of British aristocracy, his Christianity 
 among the dcistical philosophers of France, and his morals 
 in the seducing air of Italy. 
 
 The agents of manufacturing houses now spare our mer- 
 chants the trouble of going to England to settle a corres- 
 pondence ; and the Revolution has taught us, that law can 
 be studied without having chambers in the inns of court — 
 
TRAVELS, &C. 
 
 Physic and surgery, without repairing to the Professors of 
 Edinburgh, or Montpellier— and even Divinity without fo- 
 reign ordination. J 
 
 It is impossible to travel through strange countries, with- 
 out a degree of danger, fatigue, and imposition, which 
 those that have incurred, can hardly recommend to the ex- 
 perience of their friends, who, thanks to the invention of 
 printing, and the garrulity of modern tourists, may pur- 
 chase information at a cheaper rate, and amuse themselves 
 with the peculiarities of every quarter of the globe, without 
 stirring a foot from the paternal roof, or the chimnev 
 corner. J 
 
 END OF TRAVELS THROUGH SWITZERLAND AND ITALT.