LETTER NO. XXIX.

EDITORS ADVOCATE:

HOTEL D'ANGLETERRE, ROME, ITALY,
Oct. 13, 1859.

I am in the "Eternal City" at last, and have now arrived at the "ultima thule" of my journey. I arrived here five days since, and have been busily engaged in visiting the various curiosities of this city of the Cæsars. Rome is divided by the river Tiber into two unequal parts. This river is a small, muddy stream, about as wide as the Atchafalaya, at Simms Port, but not so deep. Take out St. Peter's and the Vatican, the Quirinal Palace and the Coliseum, and Rome becomes a miserable concern, a one-horse town. By-the-by, I am travelling through Italy with two very clever English gentlemen; one Mr. Forsyth, an eminent lawyer of London, and the other the Rev. Mr. Robertson, an elegant scholar, and a prebendary of Canterbury. They are social, good companions. We met in Florence, and have concluded to "tie to one

another," in this land of barbarians, where you never hear the mother tongue of a white man and a Christian spoken! I made the remark to-day that Rome was a one-horse town. These gentlemen immediately pulled out their memorandum-books, and put it down, saying, "Well, that will do for America!" The streets here are filthy and narrow; the houses generally mean and dirty, while the beggars and fleas are as thick as "leaves in Vallambrosa."

The Italians are a far different race of human beings from their Roman ancestors. When imperial Cæsar ruled Rome, it contained 4,000,000 of inhabitants. Now this once great city is not as large as St. Louis, or Cincinnati, or New Orleans; only numbering 150,000 inhabitants, the beggars and priests all told. The present modern city is built on the Campus Martius of the old Romans. With but few exceptions, the houses are badly constructed, and kept in worse repair. There is no Yankee thrift here. Prodigality and poverty go hand in hand, and the most assiduous and importunate beggars follow you into the very church of St. Peter.

Of course the first great object of attraction to all visitors, is the Cathedral. It is not only the great wonder of Rome and all Italy, but stands confessedly far superior to any thing in the shape of a church ever constructed by man. The farfamed temple of Ephesus could not be compared to it. Nor can the temple of Solomon, built of the

"fir-tree and the cedar of Lebanon, and covered with gold," be considered equal to this wonderful pile. It exceeds the most extravagant conception of the human mind. It is 607 feet long, 445 feet wide, and 458 high! and the interior is one solid mass of variegated marble. The large pictures for the altars are all of mosaic, copied from the great masters in the Vatican. They are so well executed that I was entirely deceived, and could not be made to believe it, till I had given them a minute inspection. The statuary is all of colossal size, and by those immortal artists, Michael Angelo, Canova, Bernini, Thorwaldsen, Teudon, Algardi, etc., etc. Around the base or lower rim of the cupola, are these words, in huge mosaic letters: "Tu es Petrus et hanc petram ædificabo ecclesiam meam et tibi dabo claves regni cœlorum." Notwithstanding the church is so large, still the proportions are so good and harmonious, and the windows so well arranged, that instead of dark and dreary walls, as at Milan and Florence, all is cheerful and bright, warm and luxurious. If the surroundings have any effect upon the human heart, and fit it for a closer communion with our Heavenly Father, then most assuredly St. Peter's possesses far greater advantages than all other churches I have ever seen. I noticed that there are no tinsel trinkets, or pinchbeck ornaments hung around the necks of the saints and the Madonnas, but all is in good taste; every thing is of gold or silver, Carrara marble or bronze. The façade of the church is built entirely of travertine,

(a white limestone.) It is 379 feet long and 148 high. It has three stories and an attic. Each story has nine windows and heavy balconies, from which the pope bestows his benedictions on festival days. On the attic are 13 colossal statues, each 18 feet high, which represent the Saviour and the 12 apostles. The colonnade in front of the church is so well contrived as to conceal the buildings on each side of the piazza. This is considered the masterpiece of the great Bernini. The colonnades are semicircular, 55 feet wide, having 4 rows of columns 48 feet high, and so arranged as to admit two carriages abreast, between the inner rows. The number of columns is 284. On the entablature stand 192 statues, each 12 feet high. The area inclosed by these two colonnades, in its greatest diameter, is 787 feet. The colonnades terminate in two galleries 360 feet long by 23 wide, leading to the vestibule of St. Peter's.

As you enter the church, at the bottom of the steps are placed by the present pope (Pius IX.) two colossal statues. The one on the right is St. Peter, that on the left St. Paul. In the centre of the piazza, in front, is the Egyptian obelisk, and on each side is a beautiful fountain, eternally throwing up its cool, refreshing waters, inviting all to come and drink. The ascent to the top of the dome of St. Peter's, is by a broad, spiral staircase, paved with marble, which leads you up so gently that you could easily go up on horseback. On the walls of this staircase, as you go along, are inserted

tablets, commemorating the time when distinguished sovereigns made the ascent. No one can give any idea of the immensity of St. Peter's, unless he visits the top. Here are spread out acres of roof and cupolas, without number; but I saw no carpenters' houses, with their families, on the top of St. Peter's. This is a generally received impression, found in guide-books, but it is all in my eye Elizabeth M. It is no such thing. The roof is of Roman cement, and is as clean and free of any incumbrance as the slate covering of any sugarhouse in West Baton Rouge. From the main roof, covered with copper taken from the Pantheon, you ascend the dome. It is double, that is, an inner and an outer dome. The stairs are between, admitting only one person at a time. Round and round you go, higher and higher, up-up, until at last you reach the ball, on which stands the cross. By a perpendicular iron ladder you pass up into the ball. It is 8 feet in diameter, and will hold 16 persons. It is made of sheets of copper. The cross comes next, and is 16 feet in height. On descending I lingered some time on the main roof, and with glass in hand, enjoyed a view which is alone vouchsafed to those who make pilgrimages to the shrine of St. Peter. On one side lay the Appenines and the Alban Hills, while on the other were the blue waters of the Mediterranean Sea. The wide and desolate Campagna was spread around in every dírection, and you fancied you could smell the foul atmosphere from the adjacent Pontine Marshes.