Lewiston teller. [volume] (Lewiston, North Idaho) 1878-1900, 1896-03-05

OF three papers on
Rome, st. Peters,
and the Vatican, which these artists
in words and pigments will contribute
to the magazine. Mr.. Crawford says:
There is a plan of the place in every
guide book with description written
to be read while running. And yet,
without much definite knowledge-with
little Latin and less Creek" perhaps
many men and women. the guide
book in their hands forgotten for one
moment, have leaned upon a block of
marble with half-closed, musing eyes,
and breath drawn so slow that it is al
most quiet, held in day-dream wonder;
and they have seen rise vision of past
things and beings, even in the broad
afternoon sunshine, out of stones that
remember Cesar's footsteps, and from
walls that have echoed with Antony's
speech. There they troop up the Sacred
Way. the shock-headed, wool-draped,
beak-nosed Romans; there they stand
together in groups at the corner of
Saturn's temple; there the half-naked
plebeian children Chamber upon the
pedestals of the columns to watch the
crowd. and double the mems deep tones
with treble of childish chatter; there
the noble boy, with his bordered toga,
his keen young face, and longing back
ward look, is hurried home out of the
thrOng by the tall household slave, who
carries his school-tablets and is re-
sponsible for his safety.
A consul goes by, twelve lictors
marching with him-black- proved.
square-jawed, relentless men, with
their rods and axes. Then two closed
litters are carried past by big, black.
oily fellows. beside whom walk freed
men and Greek slaves, and three or
four becurled and be-scented parasites,
the shadows of the great men in the
filters. Under their very feet the little
treet-boys play their game of pitching
at tiny pyramids of dried lupins-be-
cause they have no filberts, and lupins
are almost as good; and as the dandi-
fed hanger-on of Mecenas, straining his
Car for the sound of his patrons voice
from within the litter, heedlessly
brushes the little yellow beans under
his sandal, the particular small boy
whose stake is smashed clenches his
dandy's dead to the fourth generation
of ascendants, and he and his compan-
| ions turn and scatter like mice as one
of the biggest slaves threateningly
raises his hand.
Absurd details rise in the dream. An
old crone is selling roasted chestnuts
in the shadow of the temple of Castor
and Pollux; tipsy soldier is Keeling
to his quarters with his helmet stuck
on wrong side foremost; knot of Jew
ish money-changers, with long curls
and high caps. are talking eagerly in
Hebrew, and clutching the little bags
they hide in the sleeves of their yellow
Eastern gowns; bright-eyed, skinny
woman of the people boxes her daugh-
ter's ears for having smiled at one OF
the rich mems parasites, and the girl
already crying, still looks after the
fashionable good-for-nothing under her
mothers appraised arm.
| All about stretches the vast hum
| ming city of low built houses covering
the short, steep hills and filling all the
hollows between: the seething Suburb
lies northeastward; the yellow river is
beyond the few buildings of the west
southwark rise the enchanted villas OF
the Cesars; due east is the EsQuiline oil
evil fame redeemed and planted with
trees and beautified by Mecenas, but
haunted even to-day, say modern Ro.
mans, by the grim ghosts of murderers
and thieves who there died bloody
deaths OF quivering torture. All around
as the sun sinks and the cool shadow;
quench the hot light on the pavements
the ever-increasing crowds CT men-al
ways more men than women-movt
onward, half unconsciously and out Of
Unborn habit, to the Forum, the center
of the empire, the middle of the world
the boiling point of the whole earth.
riches and strength and life.
Then, as the traveller muses. out hi.
short breathing-space, the vision grow.
confused. and Rome's huge ghosts e
stalking. riding, changing, ravinf
through the surging dream throng-
Caesar, Brutus. Pompey. Catiline, Cice
70. Caligula, Vitelius, Hadrian-and clos,
upon them, Gauls and Goths and Huns
and all barbarians. till the dream Is
Kaleidoscope of school-learned names
that have suddenly taken shadows o
great faces out OF Rome's shadow store
house, and gorgeous arms and stream
ing draperies. and all at once the sight
seer shivers as the sun goes down. an,
passes his hand over his eyes, ant
shakes himself, and goes away rattle
hastily. lest he should take the feve
and turn ghost himself.