New-York daily tribune., 1843-12-14
VOL. Hi. NO. 213.

Tuesday, 24th.-Waked all over the ruins in
the region of the Forum and Caracallas Baths.
This is the only way to see and feel them.
never would ride again here Oh! how sad TO
muse amid these fragments of shivered world,
with nought to disturb you but the chirp of the
cricket, or the sigh Of the passing wind as It stirs
the ivy that bangles from some mouldering wall.
There they are in the bright sunshine, mon spin
ming ropes in the old Roman Forum, or singing
with Italian careessness under the shadow of that
! lofty solitary column, that stands like tomb.
stone over the grave Of an empire How those
peasantry stared at me as stood, like one bewil-
dered, under the great arches that supported the
Palace Of the Caesars, gazing on the cattle stabbed
there, and the thoughtless owners pitching hay into
apartments right under the very throne OF Rome.
The sentence of Gibbon came like mournful
echo to me" and the barbarian has Long since
stabbed his stecd in the Palace Of the CBsars.''--
l strolled on to the old Circus MaXmus, where
the rape of the Sablnes was committed. 1t IS
garden, and an old man was carting manure into
it, thought ] would see how much he would
know Of that field of fame so inquired If 1t was
the Circus Maxmus. He looked at me as if he
thought was an ignoramus and replied, No.
sgnorc, it is garden.' And this is glory.
At evening VIC drove to the convent San Onlf-
rio or rather to the foot OF the hill on which 1t
stands After knocking for nearly quarter Of
an hour VIC gained admittancc. Here Tasso died.
An oak stood near still called Tassos oak. He
came to Rome to be crowned and was taken sick.
He retired to this convent, which overlooks entire
Rome and from its elevation has pure air, to
recover his health. Under this oak he used to
sit and gaze down on the imperial city IN its glory
which was weaving crown-for his grave
The oak has been broken down by a storm but
the stump still remains. | plucked some of the
splinters to bring away as memorial. was IN
the room where he died. A castwas taken Of him
after his death which is preserved with great
care. In glass case hangs the last letter the
poet ever wrote. While am writing the daugh-
ter of the man who owns my rooms has answered
the bell and wishes to know what / want. 1t IS
somewhat chilly and / request little fire. In
order to kindle it she picks up my splinters from
Tasso's oak. spoke out so sharp that she turned
IleT SC eyes Oil llc III NOIluCI. why, Sdiu 4,
those are from Tasso's oak-1 would not take 81
scudi for them--I am going to take them to
America. She clappcd her hands and laughed
till all rung again. She took it for good joke
and proceeded to lay them on the fire. | remon-
strated earnestly that she felt must be in ear
'whathave you no such wood in America ?? Oh
Tasso such again is glory.
Saturday. 29M.-Saturday again. | have,
these last few days, stroed over the city-made
a few calls and wrote a few letters. I have seen
Pompey's Statue, which all the while ran blood
when great Cesar fell at its base. have wan
dered over the Jews Quarter" where the
old clothes hang in masses along the streets.
Every night at eight o'clock they are locked up
in the two streets they occupy. Palaces, Studios,
and Paintings have come in for their share
What beautiful young Bacchus | saw in Thors-
wolden's Studio. The drunken God could be
seen, in the baby sleeping amid the rich clusters
Of grapes. A note is on my table from DR..
D-y Of New-York. He knows not what
pleasure his last conversation gave me.
Sunday, 29M.-Tomorrow, expect to start
for Florence, and have been this evening to BID at
St. Peters good bye. 1t is strange how affection
will grow on one, for mere pile OF stone and
brick; but have really and forever fallen IN love
with this glorious old Temple. | did not feel
saddcr when the setting sun went down over the
lessening shore Of my fatherland than tonight
when knew must behold st. Peters no more
l strolled around-now across the nave-now
up and down the side aisles, and away into the
transept, looking at nothing in particular, but
letting the impression Of the whole fall like
mighty shadow on my heart. The smoke oimcense
spread like mist over the tessaated pavement,
and the pealing organ now sweled out through
the amplitude in triumphant bursts Of music, and
now died away in mournful cadences through the
dim arches, while the chaunt Of priests arose and
fell in strange echoes the air. Ear, Tar away
up through the heaven.seellng dome stole the
rays of the setting sun, as The wished his last
look to be in this great Temple One by one, the
crowd departed, till was almost alone amid the
forest of marble. Every statue became spiritual
being worshiping silently there-every shadow
the passing of the Invisible One My heart beat
audbly in my bosom, and could have knet be-
fore the silent altar and wept. The spirit OF the
Eternal seemed to have breathed on his Temple.
The silence and solitude at length became painful,
and | turned towards the door There l gave
the last farewell look. The great columns stood
dim and stately in the gathering gloom, while the
lofty arches were lost in the darkness Far away
burned the feeble tapers before the high altar
while the shadow of monk now and then glldlng
beforo them in his slent duty, added to the