her broad lights and shadows over nature's face. But evening advances, and the shadows fall

Majoresque cadunt altis de montibus umbræ

and throw that breadth of light and shade, without which neither nature nor painting can appear beautiful. The shadows, however, are now so broad, and the last lingering beam has so nearly faded, that it scarce serves me to make these pot-hooks, which, as the carriage slowly jolts along, I contrive to indite, less for your amusement than my own.

The costume of the women here is pretty and picturesque; a party of them have just now passed the carriage, their bright eyes flashing at us from under their raven locks. They wear on their heads a scarlet mantilla, or square cloth, edged with black, and a black boddice laced up in front, the long sleeves of which are tied to the shoulder with a great many bows of blue ribbon, the white sleeve of the chemise peeping out in the intervening space.

Ronciglione is said to contain about 5000 inhabitants, and is the last healthy place-totally free from malaria-between this and Rome, from which we are, (Heaven be praised !) only thirty-five miles distant. But it is nearly dark. Adieu! To-night we sleep at Monterosi.

LETTER VI.

Rome, 10th December, 1816.

ROME!-Yes, we are actually in Rome, at least I believe so for as yet I can scarcely feel sure of the fact; and, as in restless impatience we pace up and down the room, and looking round, see that it is like any other room, we continually ask each other in astonishment, if we are indeed in Rome, if we shall really to-morrow see the Coliseum, the Forum and St Peter's, or if, after all, it is only a dream?

But I must take up the history of our adventures where I left them off, when the shades of evening stopped my carriage epistle. I think I told you we were to sleep at Monterosi. Vain hope! There indeed we passed the night, but to sleep was utterly impossible. After travelling more than two hours in total darkness-our olfactory nerves frequently assailed with strong fumes of sulphureous water-our Vetturino quaking with the fear of robbers-and ourselves quaking with cold; hungry and weary, we reached at last the wished-for inn, where neither fire, food, nor rest, was to be had.

We dismounted in a filthy stable, from whence, as we could get nobody to come near us, we made our way up a dark steep stair-case, covered with dung and dirt of every description, into a place for I don't know what name to give it-the immense size of which struck us dumb with amazement. The eye vainly sought to penetrate the obscurity which involved its farther extremity and its raftered height. It was open to the stables below, at the end by which we had entered it, a piece being taken out of the floor to leave room for the steep stair, or ladder, by which we had ascended. One dim lamp, whose feeble ray was lost against the blackened walls, only served to make its deep darkness and desolation partially visible, and revealed to us the tall form of a man wrapped in a dark cloak, striding up and down this black and empty hall. Stopping short at our entrance, he darted at us, from beneath a large slouched hat, a look of keen and stern examination, which was rather appalling. Another man, rolled in a similar mantle, half-raised himself, on our approach, from the ground on which he was stretched, and might have escaped our observation, but for the clatter of his stiletto on the stone pavement, as he composed himself again to rest. It was just the place and the people for an adventure of romance; and we might, if we had possessed brilliant imaginations, have fancied ourselves heroines betrayed to banditti, and made most glorious efforts to escape out of their hands; but we only fancied ourselves betrayed to a bad inn, out of which there was no escape, and we directed

all our efforts to getting a bed-room and a fire. After considerable delay we did get into a bed-room, more wretched than language can describe: open in many a cranny to the weather, unswept, unplaistered, and unfurnished except by two such beds as it is impossible for you to form any idea of; but as the surly people of the house could or would shew us no other, we had no remedy. A fire, that grand consoler of discomforts, was not to be had. The wood was so wet, the wind so high, and the chimney so wide, that while we were blinded and suffocated with wreaths of pungent smoke, and while the wind whistled at its pleasure through the hundred chinks of the unglazed windows, our most persevering efforts failed to make a blaze.

A tub turned upside down served for a seat, but we were obliged to go to the long black den of darkness, which we had first entered, to eat our supper, under pretence that the house contained no other table, and that it was too heavy for removal. Our two stilettoed friends were still there; one stalking about, and the other seeming to sleep. This would not have frightened away our appetite, if we could have got any thing to eat; but though something swimming in oil, and smelling of garlic, was set before us, its appearance was so disgusting, that, after a fast of more than twelve hours, not even hunger could persuade us to touch it. If we did not eat, however, we were eaten ; whole hosts made us their prey during the night, while we lay shivering and defenceless. This indeed is almost invariably the case throughout Italy. The people draw

your purses by day, and the fleas your blood by night.

We got up, I believe, in the middle of the night, less from the wretchedness of our pallets than impatience to see Rome; and, after swallowing our usual breakfast of bad coffee, without milk, we were dragged along at a foot-pace, which seemed, if possible, slower than usual, for about three hours in darkness, till we approached Baccano,* when the sun rose in splendour, and we found ourselves on the deserted Campagna of Rome.

In answer to our eager inquiries of when we should see Rome, our phlegmatic Vetturino only replied, " Adesso! adesso!" unable, seemingly, to conceive any other cause for our anxiety, than the very natural inpatience to get to the end of our tedious journey. Our longing eyes were intently fixed on the spot where we were told that it would first appear; when at length, the carriage having toiled up to the top of a long hill, the Vetturino exclaimed, "Eccola !" The dome of St Peter's appeared in view; and, springing out of the carriage, and up a bank by the road side, we beheld from its summit, Rome!

It stood in the midst of the wide waste of the Campagna, whose brown herbage was glistening in the silvery dews of morning. In the hollow below us, a ruined Gothic tower, shaded by some strag

The second post-house from Rome. Soon after passing it, you see the first view of Rome.