in the following way: "Municipibus et inquilinis, item mulieribus nuptis"-" citizens, native as well as those born elsewhere, also married women"66 -were to receive a crustulum et mulsi herninam"- a bun and small measure of metheglin." Then the magistrates, "decuriones," were to be invited to his house, and, there seated round his triclinium, were to have buns, metheglin, and a present of money-"sportula"-to the amount of ten sesterces. Next, "pueris curiæ incrementis et sex viris Augustalibus quibusque" to each of the boys, pupils of the school, "curia," and the six highest priests of Augustus, buns and metheglin, and seven sesterces. And he ends by not forgetting the poor boys of the town, whether slaves or free, of whom he thus speaks: "Pueris plebeis sine distinctione libertatis nucum sparsiones medios triginta." They were to have thirty bushels of nuts scattered among them, and we can imagine the joy of the little urchins on such an occasion. This is a curious glimpse into the habits of the people; and while we can sympathise with the feelings of the donor, there is an eleemosynary air about the whole transaction that must lower them in our eyes. Only imagine a set of magistrates accepting small gifts of money on such occasions!

After visiting Anagnia, Præneste with its Temple of Fortune, Tivoli with its magnificent falls, I hurried down to Rome to spend a few days with my artist friends there, and obtain a little rest to enable me to proceed on my tour. If you get admitted to the inner circle of the little body of English artists that are assembled on the banks of the Tiber, your time will pass very delightfully. My friend, Mr. Thomas Uwins,* whom I left at Naples, and whose high character as an artist and a Christian gentleman makes him be regarded by his compatriots here with the utmost respect, had taken care that I should be received with open arms by his friends in Rome. The sculptor, Mr. Gibson,† who promises to make a name for himself, was particularly kind, and it was with difficulty that I tore myself away from him and the sculptor, Mr. Ewing.

I did, however, start, and found myself in the grey of the morning approaching on muleback the little village of Vicovaro, some seven miles beyond Tivoli, which I had left shrouded in darkness. I was advancing up the Sabine valley, in which Horace had spent most of his days on his little farm. The everlasting hills still are there, and the gelidus Digentia rivus"—"the cool and clear waters of Licenza"-purl as in former days quietly along. As the day advanced and the heat increased, I could understand the full meaning of "ignea æstas"-"the fiery heat of summer"—to which Horace alludes (Od. i. 17) in his address to his fair lady Tyndaris. It was the very dog-star days of which he speaks :

Hic in reductâ valle caniculæ
Vitabis ætus, et fide Teiâ

Dices laborantes in uno

Penelopen vitreamque Circen.

Mr. Uwins, on his return from Italy, became well known to the lovers of art in England for his beautiful paintings of Italian scenes. He was a royal artist, and latterly keeper of the royal galleries, the National Gallery, and librarian of the Royal Academy. An interesting series of letters from Italy, with a memoir, was published by his widow after his death.

Mr. Gibson did afterwards achieve for himself a high reputation, and his works have acquired a world-wide fame.

"Here, in this secluded vale, you will be able to escape the heat of the dog-star, and on your Anacreontic lyre shall sing of Penelope and the beauteous Circe striving for the affections of Ulysses."

I stopped at Vicovaro, formerly Varia, now containing about a thousand inhabitants, and saw some remnants of its ancient walls and of an aqueduct. It is situated on a hill on the right bank of the river Anio, which flows in a deep valley below. I called for wine, "vile Sabinum" cheap Sabine" and found it in no way better than Horace allows it to be. Though the heat was oppressive, the country was in all its beauty as I rode slowly along the banks of the Licenza, a mountain torrent, which flows over a wide channel during winter, but is at present confined within narrow bounds. If I could have thrown myself down under some umbrageous tree, and been able to enjoy without thought the beauties of nature like Horace, time might have slipped imperceptibly amidst the delights of a rural life. To the left rose Mons Lucretilis, Monte Gennaro rising, with its lofty peak, four thousand two hundred and eighty-five feet above the sea. Here and there were seen herds of goats browsing on its sides, and below corn-fields and vineyards, interspersed with groves of olives and chesnuts. I was advancing up a narrow valley with the hills closing down to the left, while to the right you see, prettily situated on a rugged peak, a little village, Bardella, the Mandela of Horace" rugosus frigore pagus"-" a village shivering with cold." Advancing upwards for about three miles and a half, I reached the small village of Rocca Giovane, and close to this are the ruins of what is supposed to be the Fanum Vacunæ, whence the poet (Ep. i. 10, 49) dates one of his epistles:

Hic tibi dictabam post templum putre Vacunæ.

"I was writing this to you behind the ruined Temple of Vacuna." The spot where the ruins are found is called Formelle, and not far from this is what is called Fontana d'Oratini, which some maintain to be the Fons Bandusia. At Rocca Giovane there is the following inscription :

IMP. CAESAR VESPASIANVS

AVG. P. M. TRIB. POT. CENS. AEDEM

VICTORIAE VETVSTATE DILAPSAM

SVA IMPENSA RESTITVIT.

This inscription was found on the site where the Fanum Vacunæ is believed to have stood, and there can be little doubt that a Temple of Victory had been substituted for the other, and was restored by the Emperor Vespasian at his own expense.

Having a letter from Sir William Gell to the clergyman of Licenza, I proceeded forward to that village, which I found situated at the top of the valley, on a hill. Nothing could exceed the kindness with which I was received; he insisted that I should remain during the day with him, and he would make me acquainted with all the traditionary knowledge that had been handed down respecting the position of Horace's villa and farm. This was precisely the object that I had in view when Sir William Gell gave me the letter, and I was told that I should find him intelligent on every subject. My intercourse with him entirely confirmed the cha racter that had been given, and I shall long recollect the delightful

<

afternoon I spent with the old clergyman of Licenza, sauntering over Horace's Sabine farm and along the lower declivities of Mons Lucretilis.

About a quarter of a mile from Licenza, along the road which I had already passed, we came to a small round hill, covered with vines, and there you are shown a piece of mosaic pavement of a rude character with some brick walls. Here the villa of Horace is placed, and there is no reason why it should not have been situated here. His own description of it is very humble, and we are not, therefore, to expect such remains as the magnificent villas of Varro at Casinum, and of Lucullus at Misenum, have left. He speaks of it thus:

Non ebur neque aureum

Meâ reindet in domo lacunar.

"Neither ivory nor gilded roofs adorn my house." Placed on a rising hill, it looks up to the pretty slopes of Mons Lucretilis, which shelters it from the cold blasts of the north, while the eye stretches away to the south to a ridge which appears covered with wood. As we stood gazing with delight on the scene around, my companion asked if I had ever seen a more beautiful panorama than that which lay before us, and I had to confess that his great compatriot, Horace, had chosen a delightful spot to study the beauties of nature. His description of them was as true now as they were two thousand years ago. There lay the " opaca vallis," "the shady valley;" the "fons etiam rivo dare nomen idoneus," "the fountain so copious as to give immediate birth to a rivulet ;" the "cavis impositum ilicem saxis," "the holm-oak overhanging the hollow rocks." These hollow rocks are a particular feature in the landscape, as the slopes of Lucretilis have numerous grottoes along them, as all calcareous rocks are apt to have, and the holm-oak grows most luxuriantly. They are, would naturally expect, you musco circumlita saxa"-" moss-covered

as

stones.

66

We looked down the valley to Rocca Giovane, where the ruins of the Temple of Vacuna are found, and farther on you have a glimpse of Mandela; looking back, the eye rests on the village of Licenza, and perched high is Civitella. In this direction, too, is supposed to have been "Ustica cubans"-" the recumbent Ustica"-whether we consider it to have been a mountain or valley. We wandered up a little stream called La Chiusa, and nothing could exceed the coolness of the little glens, shaded from the rays of the sun by the lofty Lucretilis. It was overhung by dwarf willows, and its banks covered with fig-trees and vines. As we advanced, all cultivation was left behind, and the valley became a narrow ravine, overhung with the holm-oak.

I spent a delightful evening with my clerical friend, and the following morning started with a guide, whom he had procured for me to cross the ridge of Lucretilis to visit Correse, the ancient Cures. The course I had to pursue was one along which a pedestrian could alone pass, and I, therefore, mustered up all my energies to meet the fatigues of some twenty miles under the broiling heat of a July sun. The sun was not yet up, when I left the hospitable house of my friend, and proceeded up the slopes of Campanile, as the peasants call what we know to be Lucretilis to the Fontana Bella, which gushes suddenly from the side of the hill. This is the fourth fountain that I have seen which is consi

dered to be Fons Bandusia. I confess to have my doubts whether this disputed point will ever be decided. This spring is copious, and beautifully situated on the side of the hill. Having seen them all, if coolness and picturesqueness of scenery are to decide the question, I do not hesitate to give my vote to Fontana Bella. There are, indeed, no trees overhanging it, but it is a position where they might very well be, and where they would afford an agreeable shade to the weary oxen and wandering flocks. Its coolness and freshness is such

Ut nec

Frigidior Thracam nec purior ambiat Hebrus

"That the Hebrus does not flow through Thrace more cool nor pure.' Having satisfied my curiosity respecting this celebrated fountain, I continued to ascend the hill, till I reached the top of the ridge, which enabled me to look [down on the Campagna di Roma, which lay like a map at my feet. It was a magnificent view, as you may imagine, when I tell you that the eye stretched away over the imperial city of Rome, towards the sea near Ostia. To the north rose a lofty mountain by itself, which I knew to be Soracte, a striking and picturesque object in all views of the Campagna, though it is only two thousand four hundred feet in height. Horace thus alludes to it (Od. i. 9):

Vides, ut altâ stet nive candidum
Soracte, nec jam sustineant onus
Sylvæ laborantes, geluque

Flumina constiterint acuto ?

"Do you see how white Soracte looks with its depth of snow, and how the trees under their load can no longer sustain the weight, and the rivers are stopped in their course by the sharp frost?"

My guide had been directed to lead me to Vena Scritta―" the engraved rock"-about four miles from Fontana Bella, and close to an old castle, La Sponga, which I found very picturesquely placed amidst the hills. Here, on the natural rock, I found an inscription, like that which I saw at Ferentinum; but the meaning is enigmatical. It is in a very lonely spot away from any road. These rock inscriptions are not unusual, as I am aware that they are found at Corneto and Castel d'Asso in the Etruscan language. The rock was in its natural state, twelve feet in height and ten in breadth. The letters are four inches in height, and at a distance of eight inches from each other. They are well formed, and most of them very distinct:

F C

FO S M A R R

There seemed to be three or four letters more, but they are nearly obliterated. They have no tradition respecting the meaning of these letters, nor yet how they came to be on a rock so far removed from human habitations; but they have been there from time immemorial. On the opposite side from La Sponga rises Monte Morrone with a Gothic castle.

I proceeded forward along the ridge for several miles, and at last fell in with a set of real Carbonari, preparers of charcoal, black as the article in which they deal. In these mountain ridges, the wood is cut down at

stated periods to supply Rome with wood for firing. At last I reached a small village, Monte Flavio, on the declivity of a hill, where I was glad to rest. Here I took a fresh guide, and hired a donkey, the only animal to be got, to save me from some little fatigue. As I approached the castle of Moricone, I came upon some ruins called by the peasantry Il Rottone. It was an ancient building, thirty-six paces in length, with foundation-stones of a rectangular shape; there were two vaulted chambers with curious fretted roof, and paved with coarse mosaic. The arches were formed of brick.

Proceeding forward towards the village of Libretti, immediately under Mount Terravale, and at a spot called St. Biagio, I came upon the remains of an ancient city, much more perfect in every way than the remains of ancient Tusculum. The hill is covered with ruins; the foundations of the buildings are of massive hewn stones; some of them are four feet in length and two and a half feet in breadth. Amidst the ruins, the wild fig and oaks of great age are growing within vaulted chambers. There are two stones that have the appearance of rudely carved statues. About half a mile from these ruins you come to a small stream, La Moletta della Pantanella, and on the other side, at a spot called Molaccio, you find immense blocks of stone and remains of an ancient building.

I passed on to the village of Correse, near the ruins of the ancient Cures. This city is celebrated in the early history of Rome as the birthplace of Numa, as well as the city of Tatius. The remains of the ancient city are found towards the Madonna dell' Arci, the site of the Arx, or ancient citadel. There are considerable remains of brick buildings, and some fragments of columns, but they are evidently of late Roman date. I searched in all directions for its walls; nothing, however, of the kind could be seen. Passing over the Fossa di Correse, I came to what is called the Tenuta di Torre, and here are vast substructions of what may have been a temple of a still earlier date than any of the ruins at Correse. The foundations were of the same massive nature as those at Il Rottone, near Moricone.

I remained at a miserable locanda in the village of Correse, and rose next morning, little refreshed, proceeding on my way towards Rieti, where I had been led to expect I should find a tolerable hotel. At Osteria Nuova, near to Monte Calvi, there are the remains of a massive building, which seems to have been a tomb, and now serves as the foundation of a house. Farther on, at the Madonna della Coluri, I came to a house with seven half circles in front, and small pieces of fluted pillars of white marble. It is called Piazza Sciarra. There is a stair with mosaic at the bottom. The walls of the chambers are painted with vermilion, like the houses at Pompeii. Here you find the following inscription not quite entire :

PARENTEM AMAVI · QVA · MIHI · FVIT
PARENS VIRVM PARENTI PROXVI·
ITA CASTA VEITAE CONSTITERAT ·

VALEBIS HOSPES VEIVE TIBI IAM ·

It is difficult to understand the exact meaning of this inscription, but ti may possibly be translated thus: "I, Manlia Sabina, daughter of