endeavoured to atone for it. But the disquietude which Corinne
experienced with regard to the future intentions of Oswald, and the
possibility of his departure, entirely disturbed her accustomed
serenity.

She conducted Lord Nelville outside the gates of the city, where are to
be seen the ancient vestiges of the Appian way. These vestiges are
indicated in the midst of the Campagna, by the tombs to the right and to
the left, which extend out of sight for several miles beyond the walls.
The Romans would not permit their dead to be buried inside the city: the
emperors alone were allowed that privilege. One private citizen,
however, named Publius Bibulus, obtained this favour in reward of his
obscure virtues. - Cotemporaries are always more willing to honour
virtues of that description than any other.

It is the gate of St Sebastian, formerly called _Capene_, that conducts
to the Appian way. Cicero tells us, that the first tombs we meet after
passing this gate, are those of the Metelli, the Scipios, and the
Servilii. The family tomb of the Scipios has been found in this very
spot and since transplanted to the Vatican. It is almost a sacrilege to
displace the ashes of the dead or to change the aspect of ruins.
Imagination is more closely connected with morality than is generally
believed, and should not be offended. Among so many tombs which strike
our sight, names are ascribed to some without any positive certainty;
but even the emotion which this uncertainty inspires will not permit us
to contemplate any of these monuments with indifference. There are some
in which houses for the peasantry are built; for the Romans consecrated
an extensive space and vast edifices to the funereal urns of their
friends or their illustrious fellow-citizens. They were not influenced
by that dry principle of utility which fertilized a few corners of the
earth, while blasting with sterility the vast domain of sentiment and of
thought.

At some distance from the Appian way is seen a temple, raised by the
republic to Honour and Virtue; another to the god who caused Hannibal to
turn back, and also the fountain of Egeria, where Numa went to consult
the god of all good men, - conscience interrogated in solitude. It seems
that about these tombs no traces but those of virtue have subsisted. No
monument of the ages of crime is to be found by the side of those where
repose the illustrious dead; they are surrounded by an honourable space,
where the noblest memories may preserve their reign undisturbed.

The aspect of the country about Rome has something in it singularly
remarkable: undoubtedly it is a desert, for it contains neither trees
nor habitation; but the earth is covered with wild plants which the
energy of vegetation incessantly renews. These parasitic plants glide
among the tombs, adorn the ruins, and seem only there to honour the
dead. One would say, that proud Nature has rejected all the labours of
man, since Cincinnatus no longer guided the plough which furrowed her
bosom. She produces plants by chance, without permitting the living to
make use of her riches. These uncultivated plains must be displeasing to
the agriculturist, to administrators, to all those who speculate upon
the earth, and who would lay it under contribution to supply the wants
of man. But pensive minds, which are occupied as much by death as by
life, take pleasure in contemplating this Roman Campagna upon which the
present age has imprinted no trace; this land which cherishes its dead,
and covers them lovingly with useless flowers, with useless plants which
creep upon the earth, and never rise sufficiently to separate themselves
from the ashes which they appear to caress.

Oswald agreed that in this spot the mind felt more calm than it possibly
could any where else; besides, here the soul does not suffer so much
from the images that grief presents to it; one seems still to share with
those who are no more, the charms of that air, of that sun, and of that
verdure. Corinne observed the impression that Lord Nelville received,
and conceived some hopes from it: she did not flatter herself with being
able to console Oswald; she had not even wished to efface from his heart
the just regret he must feel at the loss of his father; but there is,
even in this regret, something tender and harmonious, which we must
endeavour to make known to those who have hitherto only felt its
bitterness; it is the only benefit we can confer upon them.

"Let us stop here," said Corinne, "opposite this tomb, the only one
which remains yet almost whole: it is not the tomb of a celebrated
Roman, it is that of Cecilia Metella, a young maiden to whom her father
has raised this monument." "Happy!" said Oswald, "happy are the children
who die in the arms of their father and receive death in the bosom of
him who gave them life; death itself then loses its sting." "Yes," said
Corinne; "happy are those not doomed to the wretched lot of orphans.
See, arms have been sculptured on this tomb, though it belongs to a
woman: but the daughters of heroes may have their monuments adorned with
the trophies of their fathers; what a beautiful union is that of
innocence and valour! There is an elegy of Propertius which paints
better than any other writing of antiquity, this dignity of woman among
the Romans, more imposing, more pure than the worship paid to them
during the age of chivalry. Cornelia, dying in her youth, addresses to
her husband the most affecting consolations and adieus, in which we feel
at every word, all that is respectable and sacred in family ties. The
noble pride of an unspotted life is painted in this majestic poetry of
the Latins, this poetry, noble and severe as the masters of the
world[17]. '_Yes_,' says Cornelia, '_no stain has sullied my life from
the nuptial bed to the funeral pyre; I have lived pure between the two
torches._' What an admirable expression" cried Corinne; "What a sublime
image! How worthy of envy is the lot of that woman who has been able to
preserve the most perfect unity in her destiny and carries but one
recollection to the grave: it is enough for a life!"

In finishing these words, the eyes of Corinne were filled with tears; a
cruel sentiment, a painful suspicion seized upon the heart of
Oswald. - "Corinne," cried he, "Corinne, has your delicate soul nothing
to reproach itself with? If I were able to dispose of myself, if I could
offer myself to you, should I have no rival in the past? Should I have
reason to be proud of my choice? Would no cruel jealousy disturb my
happiness?" - "I am free, and I love you as I never loved man before!"
answered Corinne - "What would you have more? - Must I be condemned to an
avowal, that before I have known you I have been deceived by my
imagination as to the interest which another excited in me? Is there not
in the heart of man a divine pity for the errors which sentiment, or
rather the illusion of sentiment, may have led us to commit?" In
finishing these words a modest blush covered her face. Oswald was
startled; but remained silent. There was in Corinne's look an expression
of repentance and timidity which did not permit him to judge with
rigour - a ray from heaven seemed to descend upon, and absolve her! He
took her hand, pressed it against his heart, and knelt before her,
without uttering anything, without promising anything; but contemplated
her with a look of love which gave the utmost latitude to hope.

"Believe me," said Corinne, to Lord Nelville - "let us form no plan for
the years to come. The most happy moments are those which a bountiful
chance gives us. Is it here then, is it in the midst of the tombs that
we should think of future days?" - "No," cried Lord Nelville, "I can
think of no future day that would be likely to part us! these four days
of absence have taught me too well that I now no longer exist but in
you!" - Corinne made no reply to these sweet expressions; but she
treasured them religiously in her heart; she was always fearful that in
prolonging the conversation upon that subject most interesting to her,
she might draw from Oswald a declaration of his future intentions,
before a longer acquaintance might render separation impossible. She
often, even designedly, turned his attention towards external
objects - like that Sultana in the Arabian Tales, who sought by a
thousand different recitals to awaken the interest of him she loved, in
order to postpone the decision of her fate till her charms and her wit
had completed their conquest.

FOOTNOTE:

[17]
"Viximus insignes inter utramque facem."
PROPERTIUS.


Chapter ii.


Not far from the Appian way, Oswald and Corinne visited the
_Columbarium_, where slaves are united with their masters; where are
seen in the same tomb, all who lived under the protection of one man or
one woman. The women of Livia, for example, they who, appointed to the
care of her beauty, struggled for its preservation against the power of
time and disputed with the years some one of her charms, are placed by
her side in little urns. We fancy that we see an assemblage of the
obscure dead round one of the illustrious departed, not less silent than
his train. At a little distance from here, is perceived the field where
vestals, unfaithful to their vows, were buried alive; a singular
instance of fanaticism in a religion naturally tolerant.

"I will not conduct you to the catacombs," said Corinne to Lord
Nelville, "though, by a singular chance, they are under this Appian way;
tombs thus having their abode beneath tombs; but this asylum of the
persecuted Christians has something so gloomy, and so terrible in it,
that I cannot find resolution to return thither. It does not inspire the
same affecting melancholy as more open situations; it is like a dungeon
adjoining a sepulchre; the torment of life accompanied with the horrors
of death. Undoubtedly, we feel penetrated with admiration of men who, by
the power of enthusiasm alone, have been able to support this
subterraneous existence; separating themselves from the sun and from
nature; but the mind is so ill at ease in this abode that it is
incapable of receiving any improvement. Man is a part of the creation;
he must find his moral harmony in the whole system of the universe, in
the usual order of destiny, and certain violent and formidable
exceptions may astonish the mind; but they are so terrifying to the
imagination that the habitual disposition of the soul cannot benefit by
them. Let us rather," continued Corinne, "go and see the pyramid of
Cestius: the Protestants who die here are all buried around this
pyramid, which affords them a mild, tolerant, and liberal asylum."
"Yes," answered Oswald, "it is there that several of my
fellow-countrymen have found their last retreat. Let us go thither; and
thus, at least, it may happen that I shall never quit you." - Corinne
shuddered at these words, and her hand trembled as she supported herself
upon the arm of Lord Nelville - "I am better, much better," said he,
"since I have known you." - The countenance of Corinne was lighted up
anew with that sweet and tender joy which it was accustomed to express.

Cestius presided over the Roman games. His name is not to be found in
history; but it is rendered illustrious by his tomb. The massive pyramid
which encloses his ashes, defends his death from that oblivion which has
entirely effaced his life. Aurelian, fearing that this pyramid might be
employed as a fortress to attack Rome, has caused it to be enclosed
within the walls which are yet standing, not as useless ruins, but as
the actual enclosure of the modern city. It is said that the form of
the pyramid is in imitation of the flame which ascends from a funeral
pyre. It is certain that this mysterious form attracts the eye and gives
a picturesque aspect to every perspective of which it forms a part.
Opposite this pyramid is Mount Testaceo, under which there are extremely
cool grottos where feasts are given in summer. The festivals of Rome are
not disturbed at the sight of tombs. The pines and the cypresses which
are perceived at various distances in the smiling country of Italy, are
also pregnant with solemn remembrances; and this contrast produces the
same effect as the verses of Horace,

- - moriture Delli
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Linquenda tellus, et domus, et placens
Uxor,[18]

in the midst of poetry consecrated to every enjoyment upon earth. The
ancients have always felt that the idea of death has its pleasures: it
is recalled by love and by festivals, and the most lively emotion of joy
seems to increase even from the idea of the shortness of life.

Corinne and Nelville returned from the walk among the tombs, along the
banks of the Tiber. - Once it was covered with vessels and bordered with
palaces; once even its inundations were regarded as presages; it was the
prophetic river, the tutelary Deity of Rome[19]. At present, one would
say that it rolled its tide through a land of shadows; so solitary does
it seem, so livid do its waters appear. The finest monuments of the
arts, the most admirable statues have been thrown into the Tiber, and
are concealed beneath its waves. Who knows whether, in order to find
them, the river will not one day be turned from its bed? But when we
think that the masterpieces of human genius are perhaps there before
us, and that a more piercing eye would behold them through the waves - we
feel that indescribable emotion which incessantly arises at Rome, under
various forms, and creates a society for the mind in physical objects
which every where else are dumb.

FOOTNOTES:

[18]
Dellius thou must die - - - - - - - - - - -
Thou must quit thy land, thy home, and thy beloved wife.

[19] PLIN. _Hist. Natur._ L. iii. Tiberis ... quamlibet magnorum navium
ex Italo mari capax, rerum in toto orbe nascentium mercator
placidissimus, pluribus probe solus quam ceteri in omnibus terris amnes
accolitur aspiciturque villis. Nullique fluviorum minus licet, inclusis
utrinque lateribus: nec tamen ipse pugnat, quamquam creber ac subitis
incrementis, et nusquam magis aquis quam in ipsa urbe stagnantibus. Quin
imo vates intelligitur potius ac monitor auctu semper religiosus verius
quam sævus.


Chapter iii.


Raphael has said that modern Rome was almost entirely built with the
ruins of the ancient city, and it is certain that we cannot take a step
here without being struck by some relics of antiquity. We perceive the
_eternal walls_, to use the expression of Pliny, through the work of the
later centuries; the Roman edifices almost all bear a historical stamp;
in them may be remarked, if we may so express it, the physiognomy of
ages. From the Etruscans to our days, from that people, more ancient
than the Romans themselves, and who resembled the Egyptians by the
solidity of their works and the fantastical nature of their designs,
from that people to Chevalier Bernini, an artist whose style resembles
that of the Italian poets of the seventeenth century, we may observe the
human mind at Rome, in the different characters of the arts, the
edifices and the ruins. The middle ages, and the brilliant century of
the Medici, re-appear before our eyes in their works, and this study of
the past in objects present to our sight, penetrates us with the genius
of the times. It was believed that Rome had formerly a mysterious name
which was only known to a few adepts; it seems that it is yet necessary
to be initiated into the secret of this city. It is not simply an
assemblage of habitations, it is the history of the world, figured by
divers emblems and represented under various forms.

Corinne agreed with Lord Nelville that they should go and visit
together, the edifices of modern Rome, and reserve for another
opportunity the admirable collections of pictures and statues which it
contains. Perhaps, without accounting for it to herself, she desired to
put off till the most distant day possible, those objects which people
cannot dispense with seeing at Rome; for who has ever quitted it without
having contemplated the Apollo Belvedere and the pictures of Raphael?
This guarantee, weak as it was, that Oswald should not leave her,
pleased her imagination. Is there not an element of pride some one will
ask, in endeavouring to retain the object of our love by any other means
than the real sentiment itself? I really do not know; but the more we
love, the less we trust to the sentiment we inspire; and whatever may be
the cause which secures the presence of the object who is dear to us, we
always embrace it joyfully. There is often much vanity in a certain
species of boldness, and if charms, generally admired, like those of
Corinne, possess a real advantage, it is because they permit us to place
our pride to the account of the sentiment we feel rather than to that
which we inspire.

Corinne and Nelville began their observations by the most remarkable of
the numerous churches of Rome - they are all decorated with ancient
magnificence; but something gloomy and fantastical is mingled with that
beautiful marble and those festival ornaments which have been taken from
the Pagan temples. Pillars of porphyry and granite were so numerous in
Rome that they have lavishly distributed them, scarcely considering them
of any value. At St John Lateran, that church so famous for the
councils that have been held in it, are found such a quantity of marble
pillars that many of them have been covered with a cement of plaster to
make pilasters, so indifferent have they become to these riches from
their multitude.

Some of these pillars were in the tomb of Adrian, others at the Capitol;
these latter still bear on their capitals the figures of the geese which
saved the Roman people. Some of these pillars support Gothic, and others
Arabian ornaments. The urn of Agrippa conceals the ashes of a Pope; for
even the dead have yielded place to other dead, and the tombs have
almost as often changed their masters as the abodes of the living.

Near St John Lateran is the holy stair-case, transported, it is said,
from Jerusalem to Rome. It may only be ascended kneeling. Cæsar himself,
and Claudius also, mounted on their knees the stair-case which conducted
to the Temple of the Capitoline Jove. On one side of St John Lateran is
the font where it is said that Constantine was baptised. - In the middle
of the square is seen an obelisk, which is perhaps the most ancient
monument in the world - an obelisk cotemporary with the Trojan war! - an
obelisk which the barbarous Cambyses respected so much that in honour of
it he put a stop to the conflagration of a city! - an obelisk for which a
king pledged the life of his only son! - The Romans have, miraculously,
brought this pillar to Italy from the lowest part of Egypt. - They turned
the Nile from its course in order that it might seek it, and transport
it to the sea. This obelisk is still covered with hieroglyphics which
have preserved their secret during so many ages, and which to this day
defy the most learned researches. The Indians, the Egyptians, the
antiquity of antiquity, might perhaps be revealed to us by these
signs. - The wonderful charm of Rome is not only the real beauty of its
monuments; but the interest which it inspires by exciting thought; and
this kind of interest increases every day with each new study.

One of the most singular churches of Rome, is that of St Paul: its
exterior is like a badly built barn, and the interior is ornamented with
eighty pillars of so fine a marble and so exquisite a make, that one
would believe they belonged to an Athenian temple described by
Pausanias. Cicero said - _We are surrounded by the vestiges of
history_, - if he said so then, what shall we say now?

The pillars, the statues, the bas-reliefs of ancient Rome, are so
lavished in the churches of the modern city, that there is one (St
Agnes) where bas-reliefs, turned, serve for the steps of a stair-case,
without any one having taken the trouble to examine what they
represented. What an astonishing aspect would ancient Rome offer now, if
the marble pillars and the statues had been left in the same place where
they were found! The ancient city would still have remained standing
almost entire - but would the men of our day dare to walk in it?

The palaces of the great lords are extremely vast, of an architecture
often very fine, and always imposing: but the interior ornaments are
rarely tasteful; we do not find in them even an idea of those elegant
apartments which the finished enjoyments of social life have given rise
to elsewhere. These vast abodes of the Roman princes are empty and
silent; the lazy inhabitants of these superb palaces retire into a few
small chambers unperceived, and leave strangers to survey their
magnificent galleries where the finest pictures of the age of Leo X. are
collected together. The great Roman lords of the present day, are as
unacquainted with the pompous luxury of their ancestors, as these
ancestors themselves were with the austere virtues of the Roman
republic. The country houses convey still more the idea of this
solitude, of this indifference of the possessors in the midst of the
most admirable abodes in the world. People may walk in these immense
gardens without suspecting that they have a master. The grass grows in
the middle of the walks, and in these very walks are trees fantastically
cut according to the ancient taste that prevailed in France. - What a
singular whimsicality is this neglect of the necessary, and affectation
of the useless! - But one is often surprised at Rome, and in the greater
part of the other cities of Italy, at the taste of the Italians for
extravagant ornaments, - they who have incessantly before their eyes the
noble simplicity of the antique. They love what is brilliant, much
better than what is elegant and commodious. They have in every instance,
the advantages and the inconveniences of not living habitually in
society. Their luxury is rather that of the imagination, than the luxury
of actual enjoyment; - isolated as they are among themselves, they cannot
dread the spirit of ridicule, which seldom penetrates at Rome into
domestic secrecy; and often, in contrasting the interior with the
exterior of their palaces, one would say, that the greater part of the
Italian nobility arrange their dwellings more to dazzle the passers-by
than to receive their friends.

After having surveyed the churches and the palaces, Corinne conducted
Oswald to the villa Mellini, a solitary garden, without any other
ornament than its magnificent trees. From here is seen, at a distance,
the chain of the Appenines; the transparency of the air colours these
mountains and throws them forward in the perspective, giving them a most
picturesque appearance. Oswald and Corinne remained in this spot to
enjoy the charms of the sky and the tranquillity of nature. It is
impossible to form an idea of this singular tranquillity without having
lived in Southern countries. On a hot day there is not felt the lightest
breath of wind. The feeblest blade of grass is perfectly still, and the
animals themselves partake of the indolence which the fine weather
inspires: in the middle of the day, you neither hear the hum of flies,
the chirping of grasshoppers, nor the song of birds; no object fatigues
itself with useless and trifling agitation; all sleep till storm or the
passions awaken the vehemence of nature, who then rushes with
impetuosity from her profound repose.

There are in the gardens of Rome, a great number of trees clad in
perennial green, which heighten the illusion produced by the mildness of
the climate during winter. Pines, of a particular elegance, large,
tufted towards the top, and interwoven with one another, form a kind of
plain in the air, whose effect is charming when we mount sufficiently
high to perceive it. The lower trees are placed beneath the shelter of
this verdant vault. Two palm trees only are found in Rome which are both
planted in the gardens of the monks; one of them, placed upon an
eminence, serves as a landmark, and a particular pleasure must always be
felt in perceiving and retracing in the various perspectives of Rome,
this deputy of Africa, this type of a Southern climate more burning
still than that of Italy, and which awakens so many new ideas and
sensations.

"Do you not find," said Corinne, contemplating with Oswald the country
surrounding them; "that nature in Italy disposes us more to reverie than
any where else? - It might be said, that she is here more in affinity
with man, and that the Creator uses her as a medium of interpretation