Arch of Septimus Severus is passed, a perfect and striking monument covered with basso-relievi, and bearing an inscription, where the name of Geta is plainly wanting, having been erased by the fratricide Caracalla, after he became emperor. Standing as it does, however, in an excavation, on a level with the temples, the arch is so low and deeply sunk that it appears utterly shorn of its just proportions and dignity. Beneath, and passing through it, some large blocks of stone, once forming part of the Clivus Capitolinus, are still visible. The position of the Forum is indicated by a large square excavation, more remarkable for its filth than for the minute remains of broken columns visible-remains conveying neither dignity nor interest to the uninformed eye. Another and a smaller excavation, strewed with fragments of capitals, blocks of marble, and the remains of a few more pillars, includes all pertaining to the Forum and Comitium now visible; and it is by means of books alone, and deep research and antiquarian knowledge, aided by strong powers of imagination, that we can build up these arcades, reconstruct these temples, and lend form, symmetry, and splendour to a scene positively repulsive in its actual appearance. Nothing can be more modern than the general aspect of the buildings—mostly churches-erected on the traditionary sites of the pagan temples bordering the sides of

the Forum. The modern Romans seemed to have proposed to themselves in their erection to wage the most determined war against any stray memories which might be evoked by the least vestige of ancient remains. Walls, pillars, and porticoes are ruthlessly built into the present structures, themselves as commonplace and uninteresting in whitewash and stucco as can possibly be conceived.

Proceeding along what was once the "Sacred Way," now a very dusty modern road, first in order appears the church of San Giuseppe of the Carpenters, its façade gaily painted with coarse frescoes. It is built over the Mamertine prisons; but, as I have already spoken of these curious vaults, I will not again revert to them.

Next comes the church of Santa Martina, which I have also mentioned as connected with the Accademia di San Luca. It is said to be built on the spot where once stood a temple to Mars, or, as some say, the "Secretarium Senatus." Martina, a noble Roman virgin who heroically sacrificed her life to the Christian faith, now triumphs in death within a richly-decorated tomb, in her subterranean church at the foot of that Capitol whose steps her ancestors so often mounted as conquerors, senators, and priests.

The adjoining church of San Adriano is supposed to mark the site of the Basilica Æmilia, built in the time

of Augustus: a portion of the front, formed of bricks, is all that remains.

Immediately following is the church of SS. Cosimo e Damiano, twin brothers, born in Arabia, who finally suffered martyrdom under Diocletian after twice miraculously escaping from the sea and the stake. These brothers were canonised, as it would seem, by the Catholic Church, to recall the popular worship of Romulus and Remus (on whose ruined temple the church was erected) under a Christian aspect. The magnificent mosaic of the apsis-one of the most perfect in the world-divides attention with the remnants of the original temple, now consecrated as a second and subterraneous church.

The church of San Lorenzo in Miranda is faced by an ancient portico composed of ten imposing though much injured Corinthian columns, now deprived of half their original height, and unmercifully squeezed by the façade of the insignificant modern church, bearing on a frieze an inscription showing the ancient temple to have been dedicated to the "divine Antoninus and Faustina." This portico was excavated during the visit of the Emperor Charles V. to Rome.

Standing somewhat back from the line we have hitherto followed are the three huge arches of an immense ruin formerly known as the Temple of

Peace. Many descriptions have come down to us of this stately monument. The roof was incrusted with gilt bronze, and supported by stupendous columns; the interior was enriched with the finest statues and pictures of the Grecian schools. Here were deposited the spoils brought from Jerusalem by Titus, forming a vast public treasury.

Besides the three arches of this majestic ruin, now bare and stripped to the brick walls, all that remains in evidence of its former splendour is one beautiful Corinthian column, cruelly removed from the spot and placed in front of the basilica of Santa Maria Maggiore. It was originally one of the eight exquisite marble pillars which decorated the lofty interior temple. In these latter days the ruin is known as the Basilica, begun by Maxentius, and finished by Constantine, after the battle of Ponte Molle had ended that tyrant's life and reign. According to the present version we must consider this lofty structure only as belonging to "modern Rome," for in that interminable chain of centuries that unlink before one in examining the historic antiquities of Rome, the third or fourth century counts but as yesterday. I for myself prefer the Catholic account, as being the most poetic. According to that, this edifice was built by Augustus in memory of the peace given to the world by the battle of Actium.

The

Wishing to know how long the solid walls would stand, he consulted the oracle, which replied, "Quoadusque virgo pariat" ("Until a virgin bears a son"). Romans considered this a promise of immortality, and anticipated an eternal existence for the new Temple of Peace; but the same night that saw the Saviour's birth in Bethlehem, the walls of the pagan temple shook and fell; fire suddenly and mysteriously issued from the ground, and the sumptuous pile was consumed. The modern church of Santa Francesca Romana is built on part of the remains of the temple of Venus and of Rome, designed by the Emperor Adrian, forming one angle of the long-shaped square which marks the valley of the Forum. It is a curious coincidence that on the site of the former temple of "Venus the Happy," Catholic Rome should have dedicated a church to the memory of a Roman matron renowned for her rigid virtue. True, Santa Francesca was married, but her chaste conduct as a wife increased the admiration and respect of her contemporaries. At the death of her husband she became a nun, and commenced a life of severe penance and renunciation, devoting herself to the sick and dying in the hospitals with truly Christian fortitude. "Elegi abjecta esse in domo Dei." A large sisterhood was formed bearing her name, which has religiously preserved some relics of