The Sun.
London, England, 1868-04-01 00:00:00

Do 8 per Cent., 1867 73
elluador New Consolidated, 1 per Cont —
Egyptian, 7 per Cent —
Do. Se.:ond Issue
D. .£5OO Bonds —

Do. £lO5 Bonds B2l
Do. 1861
D0..£5 )0 Bonds B2 3
Do. £lOO Bonds ..... 841 31
Government Railway Debentures .....
Greek, 5 per Cent., 1824-5, ex Coups. —
Do. Account -
Do. Coupons -
Do. Account
Gaatemala 5 per Cent .. —
Honduras Gov. Rail. Loan., 10p. Ct., £25 p
Itliiau 5 per Cert., 1865 —
Do. Account ~ 74 31 5
Do. Maremmana Raiway —
Nlmxicar, 3 per Cent
Ditto for Account
Do. 1864 9l
Do 6 per Cent. Anglo-French —
dontevickro: 6 per Cent. . —
qoorish imperial 5 per Cent
Now Granada l3','-
Do 3 per Con 3ll
Do. Defern..l
Do Lii.io Warrants Meet:Ares) - -
Periiviat: 5 per Cent. 1865 —
Do Account .. 78 9
Do 41 per Cent. (Uri barren) ..
Do 41 per Cent., if 62 • —
Do Account
Pol.,zueso 3 per Ct., 185 s, '6, '7, '9,'60,'2,': 391
Do. do., 1 67 —
Do. do., Scrip, £lO paid —
11 :ssiau 5 per Cent., 18:;2, £ St —
Do 41 per Cent. 1850
Do 41 per Cent., 1860
Do 3 per Cent., 1859
Do 5 per Cent., 1,162 . 811 5
Do. Anglo-Dutch, 1861, £lOO Bonds.,

Do. - do. £B4 13s. d 0...,
Do., Do., 1866, £lOO Bonds „

Do.' do. .£B4 15s. do. —
Sardinian, 5 peer Cent
Spanish 3 per Cen
Do Account
Do New Deferred
Do Account.
Do Passive
Do Account
Do Com. Cert. of Coup. not funded —
Do Do Account
Tuckish 6 per Cent.
Do Account
Do 6 per Cent. 1858
Do Account
Do £lOO Bonds' 67
Do 6 per Cent., 1862 631
Do Account
Do .£IOC Bonds 661
Do. 1863
--
Do 5 per Cent., 1865
Do Account
Do 6 per Cent., 1865 571 7 1-
•
Do I por Cent., Guaranteed
Venezuela, 3 per Cent.
Do 6 per Cent., 1862
Do 6 per Cent. 1864
Do. 4 per Cent. Certificates ....
Dividends on the above payable in London.
French Relates, 3 per Cent., Ex. 25f. —
Austrian a per Cent. Ex 10 Florins
Belgian. 44 per cent.., Ex. 25f.
Dutch 21 per Cent. Ex. 12 Gail

Do Ac-cC)unt —
Italian 5 per Cent. 1851, Ex. zsi.
Do. Account 491 1 1
THREE O'CLOCK.

Consols, Money 93 I
Do. Account, March 93 *

TILE COLISSEUM AT ROME.

The following beautiful description of the Coils•
seum is taken from a recently published book o
travels, written by William Smith, jun. :

On the very spot where we stood, how many thousands
had been "butchered to make a Roman holiday." Around
us rose the vast amphitheatre which, 1,800 years ago, was
occupied almost daily by countless thousands, anxious to
witness the exciting spectacle which ferocious combats
between man and beast could furnish. A short description
of this immense ruin cannot fail to be interesting to my
readers. The Colissoum was built by the Emperor Flavius
Vespasianus on his return from the war in Judea, on the spot
occupied by ponds in the gardens of Nero, and nearly in,
the centre of Ancient Rome. It was dedicated by Titus'
and the games celebrated at its dedication lasted 100 days
during which 5,000 wild beasts and several thousand
gladiators were killed. The form of the Amphitheatre
is oval ; its height 52 yards, and its circumference out-
side, 550 yards, but to obtain a correct idea of its size
it is necessary to ascend the first or second
story of the porticoes. The arena, so called from
the sand that covered the ground, had one princi-
pal entrance to the east, the other to the west, and formed
an ellipsis of two hundred and eighty-five feet long, one
hundred and eighty-two wide, and seven hundred and
forty-eight in circumference. It was surrounded by a wall
to prevent the beasts from rushing on the spectators: by
doors and passages closed with bars of bronze ; through
these passed the gladiators and animals. Above the
arena rose the seats for the audience, on which
there was room sufficient for 87,000 persons, and on the
terrace for 20,000 persons. On the outside walls in the
cornice of the building wore bo‘orw whh bronze,
to which was attached the awning that sheltered the spec-
tators from the rays of the sun.
A solemn stillness pervaded the place, and fur a con-
siderable time we stood and gazed upon the stupendous
edifice, with its arch upon arch, seat above seat, its ruined
corridors and lofty walls, and realised the truth of Byron's
lines :

A ruin—yet what a ruin ! from its mass
Walls, palaces, half-cities have been reared;
Yet oft the enormous skeleton ye pass
And marvel where the spoil could have appeared.
In the centre of the arena stands a large black wooden
cross, planted in the very soil which once had been
deluged with the blood of Christian martyrs. A
notice is affixed to this cross, which interpreted, reads
thus :—" Whoever kisses this cross shall obtain ab-
solution for the sins of two hundred days." Several
peasant females and one or two children came up, whilst
we were endeavouring to decipher the inscription, and
reverently kissing the wooden symbol departed with an
air of self-satisfaction. Having found the custodian of
the place, we made known our desire to explore the build-
ing more fully. Ile readily accompanied us until we had
climbed to the highest accessible point. It was a never-
to-be-forgotten ramble. As we ascended we found that it
was only from such an elevated position that we obtained
a correct impression of the colossal size of the ruin. Ever
and anon we paused to look over the city itself and away
into the country beyond. Here and there, where the re-
lentless hand of time has removed vast masses of the ori-
ginal structure, Nature has filled up the chasms, and whore
once the rank and fashion of Rome, as represented by its
noble dames, gazed upon the scenes in the arena, flowers
of various kinds and rich tufts of verdure spring up.
The whole ruin is overgrown with grasses, wild
flowers, and shrubs, springing up everywhere Irons out of
the yawning crevices, creeping up the broken arches, and
presenting a rare scene of varied and beautiful vegetation.
Naturalists have counted nearly 300 plants of different orders,
which assist to decorate the ruins of the vast pile. Our steps
were continually arrested by new views of the ruins, and ere
we bad finished our surveywe were satisfiedthat even inßome
itself Ivo should fail to find any other object of equal sub-
limity. And yet nothing that we afterwards saw pro-
duced within us so sad a feeling when we remembered the
terrible history connected with this one unrivalled build-
ing. Beautifully has Dickens embodied what I mean,
when he writes of the Colisseum, "Its solitude, its awful
beauty, and its utter desolation, strike upon the stranger
like a softened sorrow, and never in his life, perhaps,
will he bo so moved and overcome by any sight
not immediately connected with his own affections
and afflictions. It is the most impressive, the most
stately, the most solemn, grand, majestic, mournful sight
conceivable. Never, in its bloodiest prime, cin the sight
of the gigantic Colisseum, full and running over with the
lustiest life, have moved one heart, as it must move all
who look upon it now, a ruin—God be thanked a ruin."