friendly assistance of the Greeks of Vienna. I was anxious to see the inmates, and the nature of their administration: and as I had to delay a considerable time for one of the superiors, to whom I had a letter of introduction, who was to introduce me to another, and the other to the cardinal-prefect, I took this opportunity of satisfying, compendiously, my curiosity. I leant against a door in one of the great halls, and watched, from my concealment, the comers-in and goers-out. Nothing could be more exciting to the imagination, than this succession of various nations and manners passing before me in their representatives. It is a gallery of the most perfect models for the eye and feelings of an artist. The first appearance was striking. It was a prelate of about sixty, who, after having discharged his duties with the congregazione, was returning home; a young student approached him, and after the manner of the East, raised the hem of his black mantle to his forehead, and then kissed it. He was dismissed with a gentle benediction, and an affectionate καλη 'σπερα, σᾶς. He was a Greek δεσπότης, or bishop; and the gleam of dusky sunshine, through which he then passed, in the lower part of the hall, threw open to my admiration all the peculiarities of his nation and functions. He was not tall, nor had he any of those lofty and muscular forms, which I more than once had noticed in the Greek papas, who, half warrior and half priest, in the mountainous regions at least of Greece, accompanies his flock in all the difficulties and dangers of their multifarious life, and is to be seen as often in the front of the battle, encouraging the combatants of the Cross to martyrdom, as over the sick bed of the shepherd, or at the espousals of some village Helen. His was a far different port: courts, and councils, and the polish of the most polite, and the kindness of the most kind, seemed to have modelled him into a very mirror of Christian philosophy. The cameo outline of all his features; the Platonic serenity of eye and mouth; the antique delicacy and contraction of his brow, (the characteristic of the Jupiter Meilichius of his ancestors); a beard worthy of the admiration of Julian; and upon which age had only just begun to lay his hand, silvering it over with a certain grave cast of thought and experience, such were the elements of a portrait which, were I occupied upon a companion for "The School of Athens," I should have chosen as the noblest delineation of a Basil or a Chrysostom. He was met at the entry by two figures of a very different character and country. Two Maronite monks, in low and earnest conversation, were on their way to the interior. Their habit is in the extreme simplicity of the primitive orders: it is confined round the waist by the leathern girdle of the Arab Bedouin, and hangs gloomily from the head above, over the emaciated cheeks and bent eyes of the anchorite. The rapid guttural accent and rhythmical cadence of their sentences, so entirely in harmony with this costume, tinged the common-place of every object about me with a sort of sullen and distant remembrance of the East; and as they paced away in the corridors to the chapel, I believed myself once more in the rudely-excavated galleries of Mar Antorn. 1 was awakened from this tranquillizing reverie by a crowd of young students from "the Nazareno," one of " the Seminarii de Nobili," for the education of the cadets of noble families of the Stati Pontificie, whom their parents or their inclinations destine for the priesthood, and who intrude here, from time to time, less to visit than to lounge. The purple stockings, and purple "fiocchi" and clerical cocked-hat, the light European dress of the young Italian monsignore who conducted them, could scarcely be more opposed to the "unsophisticated" attire of the Eastern monk, than the mobility and affectation of his look and manner to the nature and severity of his behaviour. Perceiving I had excited some curiosity, and not choosing to rely any longer on the promises of the attendant, I deferred presenting my letters to another day, and returned to examine the exterior. It is notorious, even at Rome, for the excesses of its absurdity. Next to the Sapienza, and the Church of San Carlo at the Quattro Fontane, which are "sorelle germane" in extravagance, it is the most intrepid violation of all good taste of any which can

be met with in the whole city. The façade or front towards the Piazza, it is true, is hardly to be included in this censure; it is sedate and simple enough: a shield "bedropped" with the Barberine bees, immediately over the entrance, points out the origin of its foundation, and invites to the "Urban" college, the attention and inquiries of the stranger. But the side in proceeding from the Palace of Spain, is a compilation and category of the most heinous defects: it is a chimæra of all ugliness, a gigantic illustration of all the vices and inconsistencies of the poet. It is difficult to give a just idea of these eccentricities but by sight; but no one, who has ever seen them, can ever forget the torture to which every line has been reduced to force it from the simplicity and utility of its origin and intention, the round-about manner of expressing every thing, the dislocation of all rules, the discord of all orders into an "olla podrida" of unimaginable architecture, with which every member of it is infected. I could scarcely pass it without invoking an earthquake; the only shape in which it would be at all bearable would be in the shape of a ruin. It is said that this building was one of the last productions of Borromini he soon after fell by his own hand. That the architect of such " an atrocity" should have so terminated his career is quite natural (it is only to be regretted that he did not do the public justice a little earlier); but that he should have been permitted, and been paid, to perpetrate this flagrant act of lunacy, under the eye and protection of a Roman pontiff, and in the very sanctuary of the Arts, will appear incredible to any one, but the traveller who has been at Rome.* I looked in vain at the termination of the street for the indecorous epigram or sarcasın in stone, which his enemies are said to have shaped out for him. But I confess with all my anxiety to discover something which might justify the imaginations of his biographers, I could find, with Cicognara, little more than a rude console supporting as rude a balcony. A pasquinade, of a similar kind, against Bernini, is said to be concealed in the façade of Saint Agnese in the Piazza Navona; but the observation, like so many others "faits à loisir," was made for the building, not the building made for the observation. The history of the arts in Italy teems with these ingenuities, some of them of no consequence in themselves, but excellent hints of the spirit of the times, straws which show how the current sets, and which sets speculation on the search, and often leads an idle man, in his own despite, to a discovery.

On leaving this portion of the Piazza, we come to the "Scala," or "Scaliera," and which, if a good thing greatly and unnecessarily disfigured, might justify a disgraceful augmentative, ought rather to be called the Scalonaccia." Opposite is the "Fontana della Barca"-an extravaganza I believe of so great a maestro as Bernini himself. Nothing can be more incongruously or feebly imagined: a coarse concetto clumsily translated into stone, if it had a thousand orthodox authorities from antiquity to support it, should be got rid of, notwithstanding, without the least remorse; but a boat spouting water like a Triton, is in such a violation of Greek and Roman, as well as every other taste, that I am at a loss to imagine how it has not been destroyed long since by an unanimous act of justice on the part of the Archæologia. Consalvi, who had more "breadth" and generosity in his administration than most ecclesiastical ministers, proposed to anticipate this catastrophe, and measures were actually taken for the sinking of another fountain in the neighbourhood; but the great work was on so Lilliputian a scale, owing to the economy of the architect or the poverty of the Camera,

Martino Lunghi was another of these architectural madmen, but had more gaiety and good sense, "more method in his madness," than his atrabilious successor. His practical "humours" were all of the allegro kind. Nothing, amongst the freaks of Cellini, exceeds the mystification of the hospital physician, in Passeri. His architecture is perfectly sober; the "Cembalo," or the Palazzo Borghese, one of the noblest edifices at Rome, is his great achievement, and worthy of the fame of many a more distinguished artist. The interior is by G. Fontana.

that it acquired, before it had got half way, the soubriquet of "il gran Pozzo," A name in Rome is like an O. P. war in England: the fountain disappeared, like the Curtian gulf, in the night, and the next day Pasquin advertized for its recovery, and enjoyed his triumph and laugh in the midst of the whispered applauses of all Rome. The correction of architectural abuses here is an ungrateful task-"the never-ending, still beginning work" of the Danaids, is the only "worser" kind of employment of the two-it is a sort of book where there are so many errors, that it is quite as easy to burn as to correct them. Consalvi either adopted the suggestion of his rival (for Pasquin is the only controlling power here), or was called off by other and more imperious avocations. The fountain was altogether forgotten, and Bernini still enjoys his dubious reputation. This is the centre of all the "bel far niente" of the Piazza. Vetturini, in their plush jackets, battling for customers, valets de place eyeing anxiously the "arms" on every new carriage, and anticipating already a golden harvest from "the conscience de tout voir" of every new horde of Gypsies or Englishmen, cardinals servants bargaining for their frugal dinner at some favourite "Friggitore," rambling Mosaicists, subaltern Ciceroni, German artists, crowding to their table d'hôte at Frantz's, in all the affected naiveté of manner and costume, which belongs to the legitimate descendants of the school of John of Bruges, or Luke of Leyden, Capucins, and English nurses, and harlequin and punch, and John Bull overtopping the whole, in the supremacy of his own loftier absurdities,-these and a thousand other images, which from the rising to the setting of the sun course across the eyes and brain, in this never-closing theatre, are to the inhabitants of the happy spot, what the carnival is to the whole city,-a kind of kaleidoscope for the most indolent and apathetic, for at least four months out of the twelve during the whole year. The fountain forms the nucleus, and, if it does not merit it for its sculpture, it does for its water; it is supplied by the unrivalled Aqua Virgo, of the Imperial city, and the water-drinkers of modern times may boast that it has lost nothing of its original purity. They manage these things here better than we do in England: for there is some difference, I must confess, between this free and ample rushing of the wholesome springs of the earth into their natural atmosphere, and that maudlin, mud water of our city pipes, where all that makes water tolerable, is left behind either in the wood, or the leaden channel, together with the dregs, which it is compelled to deposit in its progress. The "Scala" succeeds to this, with an air of singular disproportion. It ought to have been the finest thing of the kind, even at Rome, for with all due reverence to the magnificent Ara Coeli, there are no stairs in the world, I imagine, so nobly crowned as these. As it is, all possible pains seem to have been taken to make it as little to the eye as it is really great to the judgment and experience of every resident on its summit. One comes up to the obelisk, after I know not how many pauses, and is astonished as he seats himself down on the last parapet, at the false calculation which he made below. It is divided and subdivided like a village sermon; one comes at its merits by analysis; and it is indebted for all its effect to trial only and reflection. The steps are most ample, and sweep away like half a street from one side to the other. The landing-places are little squares: the sunniest and airiest receptacles in Rome, for beggars are supposed to be within the precincts of its ballustrades; and as it is the high road of every thing rich, and prodigal, in the shape of a stranger at Rome, it is usually as well furnished, as an artist could desire, with every species of picturesque wretchedness which can be collected in a Southern capital. The most inveterate and “invaluable” beggars at Rome, the best models for

* "Chiunque ritroverà sia intere, sia spezzata, la Fontanella, detta del Gran Pozzo, che e svanita (non si sa come) la scorsa notte, riceverà (come mancia) da Sua Eminenza Il Cardinale Consalvi, Segretario di Stato, Scudi Dieci Moneta Romana."-This affiche, posted up near the gates, was read and laughed at by the guards. To an English duchess was ascribed both the appearance and disappearance of "the monument.'

sculptor or painter, lounge here, at an early hour, to arrest the taste or commiseration of the Signori Cavalieri, either professional or otherwise, (for they are judiciously liberal in their titles,) who at all times of the day are on their way to or from the Pincian. These two professions, of mendicant and model, are scarcely disreputable in a country where they are exercised by some of the ablest-bodied men in the community. The two departments are frequently confounded-and one may at any time be exchanged for the other with great facility. The "metier" of Lazarillo del Tormés, however, (all things considered) does not exceedingly flourish at Rome, and, with the excitements which exist, there are as few outward signs of the "Ricaresco" epidemic, as are to be found in most other capitals. The models are noble, and are of all qualities and classes. In the most conspicuous part of the Scaliera, I met Barbone. He is one of the most distinguished 'of the race at Rome, a savage-looking personage, with the most courteous and attractive salute that can be imagined. More than one French artist is indebted to him for the greater part of his success in the "Salon," and he alone has furnished half the heroes of the brigand scenes, which, whether Ancient or Modern Roman, or Italian, form the inexhaustible treasury of the present generation of artists and connoisseurs. Like few other heroes, his presence does not in the least detract from his reputation: a thick forest of hair of raven black, with an outline of skull and face which belongs to the old Republican stamp of Rome, burning and brown with sun and labour; eyes gloomy and deep, and steadied into a sort of sullen repose; a stature cast in a firmer mould than what belongs to the ordinary samples of mortality; all these elements thrown gloriously together went to make up a being, only to be found on this side of the Alps, and the existence and frequency of which, as much as any other circumstance, is the cause and principle of the rapid progress of the Fine Arts in the South. He begs, basks, wears rags, and sits for five shillings a sitting, and lounges, and begs, and basks, until he is forced back by famine to the Ateliers again. He raised his head as I passed him from a mantle which seemed the legacy of some ancient academician, and held forth his hand, rather claiming, than imploring, a sort of prescriptive relief. I was a little surprised at the man and his manner, but we afterwards became insensibly acquainted from the mere habit of seeing each other almost every day. On reaching the summit of the steps, you stand on the Pincian Mount. The obelisk, which surmounts and terminates them, was erected by Pius VI. whose munificent vanity multiplied inscriptions, in the holy city, with a prodigality only equalled by the multiplication of great and little titles in the reign of George III. There is as inuch modesty in the idea, and laconism in the expression of the inscription, as was consistent with the monument or the man: the hieroglyphics, if we are to trust Champollion, or his theory, can contain little; they date too late in the world to excite or gratify our fastidious curiosity. Adjoining is the church of the San.ma Trinità, whitewashed, sparkling, rebourbonized, and reconventualized. The convent is at present in the occupation of the Paolotti, or brothers of San Vincenzo di Paula; their rule and practice is worthy of their founder. The exterior is Italian " poi"-Italian-Brother Belfries nod at each other, an early innovation, and which led to a variety of architectural disfigurements, particularly in Upper Italy. The Basilica lost all its unity and simplicity, when the Campanile, originally distinct, was glued or ingrafted on it. I ascended the steps over some capitals of columns; I had yet light to see the interior, and I was not ignorant that it contained one of the three great worders of the art, equal to the Sebastiano del Piombo of England, and second only to the Transfiguration itself. But by good or evil fortune, I found the gates closed-the day was advanced; and looking at the sun, I perceived that I had nearly trespassed on my engagements for the evening. I had delivered but a portion only of my credentials, and as the theatre does not open till the carnival, I hastened to make the usual preparatives for my debut in the evening circle of Rome.

"e

PARR IN HIS LATTER YEARS.

ONE of the only remaining links which connected us with a race of singularly gifted men of the last generation, snapped asunder when the grave closed over Parr. He was not merely the survivor of the learned men of the old school, of whom we shall never again see the resemblance, but of numerous contemporaries, distinguished no less by their acquirements than by the parts they acted in political life, and the impress they produced on the opinions of their time. They have left none behind them their equals in learning and eloquence, and none who outstrip them in force of character or clearness and strength of intellect. Energetic and firm in defence of the principles they advocated, they clung to the point of honour at any sacrifice. If unforeseen exigencies produced in them a solitary instance of change of opinion, such change was the result of earnest conviction: they thus afford a contrast to the shufflers and renegades in religion and politics whom we now encounter at every turn-men whom their advocates make an attempt to justify, at the expense of their intellect, by saying they believe, in each of their multiplied changes, (always on the side of selfinterest as they are,) that they are acting honestly! The shining lights of their day to whom I allude, England must never expect to see individually excelled in brightness hereafter, though her collective intellectual power may far transcend what it has ever yet been. Can the great names of the last half of the eighteenth century ever perish from amongst us? and is it not with a deep and melancholy sense of the perishableness of the noblest qualities of earth, that we behold the going out of perhaps the last of the race? To record the minutest traits of character of such men, is not a vain labour, and will assist the more pretending biographer hereafter, who may erect a less evanescent memorial of them for posterity.

Mr. Moore was on the point of giving Sheridan's life to the world, when Parr, Sheridan's friend and master, followed his pupil, closing the list with a name it is impossible for his enemies, if he had them, to recall without respect. Two or three years before his decease I had not seen Parr. My last interview with him was at the house of a friend near Grovesnor-place, about the time that the public mind was agitated respecting the late Queen. He had no great while before invited me to spend ten days with him at Hatton, but I had been obliged to defer my visit. He considered I had used him unkindly in not fulfilling my promise. I renewed it-again procrastinated, and saw him no more! He had his often-repeated wish gratified-that he might die in the possession of his reason, or, in his own language, might "stand in the presence of his God, in the possession of his intellectual faculties." Though delirious for some days, he recovered his mind before he departed, and was sensible of every thing about him, even when that tongue, which had so often crushed the adversaries of truth and reason in argument, and taught the counsellors of Empires learning and eloquence, was silenced for ever!

I cannot help mentioning here a circumstance that occurred at the last Warwick visitation, which though nothing more, in reality, than one of those coincidences that under certain circumstances and times are constantly happening, impress themselves on the clearest heads for