barbarously murdered, to gratify his revengeful spirit. His wife was divorced by him for natural causes, in which she was entirely guiltless, and shut up on the Island of Pandaleria, where he visited her, and compelled her to open her veins and let out her blood. Another of his wives 2 he also killed, to rid himself of her reproofs, given fearlessly, on account of his many barbarities. To gratify a wanton caprice, he set fire to his own capital, and laid the blame at the door of persecuted Christians, and caused them to be slain by thousands. Conceited as he was cruel, he went to the stage as an actor, made some attempts at the composition of music, and died, the object of contempt and abhorrence, a self-murderer, he having committed suicide, to escape the vengeance of his indignant people. And here stands his Golden House, shorn of its beauty, but not of its impressive eloquence, and its lofty power to curse the memory of its insatiate founder.

Out a little distance from Rome, on the Appian Way, is the Grotto of Egeria, to which the emperors and senators of Rome, weary with the cares of state, loved to resort, to drink the waters of the celebrated fountain, and enjoy the society of wanton women. Here, says tradition, came Numa to consult the nymphs, and here he paid his devotion to the God of Water, whose recumbent form, broken and wasted, still remains. The grotto is a rude room in the side of the rock. The walls were once frescoed, and give some evidences of former beauty. Moss and evergreen cover the marble pavements and hang from the ceiling. The fountain, God's work, still gushes up as bright and sparkling as ever, while man's work has gone to ruin and decay.

Near by is the Temple of Bacchus. Converted from its pagan use, it is adorned with the fixtures of a Catholic church. There still remain about it the evidences of its former devotion to debauchery and crime. Retired from the highway, the old pleasure seekers came hither to enjoy a season of dissipation in the temple of the divinity who was supposed to look with pleasure upon their excesses. The building is rectangular, surrounded by marble columns; and Pope Urban, who converted it into a Catholic temple, spoiled half its beauty when he gave it to a religion as senseless and abhorrent as paganism itself. All around Rome are the temples of the old heathen worshipers, dedicated to the various gods of mythology. On the "Ship of the Tiber," an island in the river which derives its name from its form, Æsculapius has his altar, around which tradition has hung a hundred fancies; the Temple of Nerva, between the Roman Forum and Trajan's Place, has left its ruins; temples to Venus and Vesta, Jupiter and Saturn, Remus and Romulus, the sun and the moon some in a tolerable state of preservation, and some leaving scarcely a trace behind; some standing alone, isolated and dismal, others crowded in between modern structures, overbuilt, and fitted for the Papal worship, meet the stranger on every hand, and speak to him of the buried generations who erected, embellished, and enjoyed them.

Several noble arches still stand, forming gateways for the city, or commemorating some splendid victories achieved by heroes long ago. They were the pride of ancient Rome, and draw to modern Rome a multitude of strangers. The Arch of Drusus, out on the Appian Way, was first erected, and has stood so long, that the inscriptions which once the Romans read upon it old father Time has obliterated. The Arch of Constantine,

built by Trajan, and recast by him whose name it now bears, is covered with elegant sculpture, representing scenes in the history of the empire, and must have been erected at an immense expense. The Arch of Septimius Severus, erected by bankers and brokers to perpetuate the memory of one who in the councils of their nation befriended their interests, a structure massive in its appearance and bold in its design, stands in the Velabrum. The Arch of Titus, commemorating the destruction of Jerusalem by the emperor, and erected by the senate as a token of their respect to his bravery, is covered with bass-reliefs representing the overthrow of the holy city, and the return of Titus laden with the spoils of conquest. Of all the triumphal arches this is the most magnificent, and appeals most directly to the heart of the Christian, as it furnishes him with an eloquent witness to the truth of prophecy. Other arches rise in beautiful order, as the still standing monuments of the greatness of the now dead and perished

emperors.

The baths of Rome furnish an idea of the immense wealth and prodigality of the old Roman monarchs. Those of Caracalla cover an area of a mile in circuit, and the ruins which remain are still grand and beautiful. The fine mosaic floors, on which are piled the fallen pillars; the exquisite carvings, broken pieces of which are scattered about, speak volumes as to the former glory of the place. Any description of the ruins would not equal the reality, or give an idea of their vastness and beauty; and as we stand beneath the arches, or tread the marble pavements, we can hardly resist the conviction that these immense walls and towers were erected by a race having greater resources than our own.

The baths of Diocletian, of Agrippa, of Constantine, of Titus, are but little inferior to those of Caracalla. After the lapse of centuries, they attest the glory of the race of sovereigns by whom they were built, and are grand and glorious even in their decay.

The best preserved building which may be said to belong to the Rome of the past is the Pantheon, which was erected twenty-six years before Christ, by Agrippa. It is situated in the herb market, and is one of the finest proportioned and most elegant buildings, as far as architectural taste extends, in the world. The orna

ments and statues which are found in St. Peter's are not here, but a grand design and a noble execution speak out from these walls, which have stood the shock of centuries unmoved. It was originally a pagan temple, as some suppose, and was dedicated to Christian worship by Pope Boniface IV. When we entered it, one afternoon, a service was in progress. Thirty-four priests, gorgeously dressed, were making the walls echo with their chants and songs. One miserable-looking woman was kneeling in the center of the building, with a child crawling at her feet, and about a dozen other filthy-looking Italians were scattered in various parts of the room, on little benches which were set against the walls. The woman clapped her hands and responded; the priests sung and prayed as valiantly as if fifty thousand were present, while the rest looked on with the most perfect indifference. The Pantheon is a rotunda, with a fine dome, having a portico, said to be the most perfect ever known. The building was originally profusely ornamented, but the adornments have been removed to decorate the tombs of apostles and popes, and to beautify the palaces of the present degenerate race of Romans

What most interested me here was the tomb of Raphael, the celebrated painter. His bones slumber beneath a dome which his genius assisted to decorate, and every man of science who enters the edifice will inquire for the spot where they repose, guarded by monks, but inherited by decay. Around him slumber many of his fellow-artists, who have acted their part, and sought the oblivion of the grave.

The famous Mamertine prisons are objects of great interest. They are beneath the surface of the earth, directly under the Church of St. Giuseppe, and consist of two large chambers, one directly under the other. A flight of some thirty steps leads us to the first chamber, which is about thirty feet square. The chamber below is somewhat smaller. Into this lower room the prisoners were formerly lowered through a hall in the ceiling, and allowed to perish most miserably. The light of the sun never penetrates that dark abode; the walls drop filth, and the floor is thick with a black, dirty mud. In this awful prison Jugurtha was starved to death, living six days without food. A base usurper and a bloody tyrant, he expiated his many crimes in this place, his army of ninety thousand men having been slaughtered around him by the Romans. Here, too, Sejanus, the follower and friend of Tiberius, was executed. Crafty and ambitious, he used every means to remove all obstacles to his progress in the favor of h royal master. He even imprisoned the son and many of the nearest relations of the emperor, wno finally became suspicious of him, and brought him before the senate, which convicted him. He was hurried away to the Mamertine prisons, and strangled without mercy. Here, also, we were told by our valet that Peter was confined by order of Nero. In the

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