The Project Gutenberg eBook of Walks in Rome, by Augustus J. C. Hare.

"Vasari says that the two works of Luca Signorelli surpass in beauty all those which surround them,—an assertion which is at least questionable as far as regards the frescoes of Perugino; but with respect to all the rest, the superiority of Signorelli is evident, even to the most inexperienced eye. The subject of the first picture is the journey of Moses and Zipporah into Egypt: the landscape is charming, although evidently ideal; there is great depth in the aërial perspective; and in the various groups scattered over the different parts of the picture there are female forms of such beauty, that they may have afforded models to Raphael. The same graceful treatment is also perceptible in the representation of the death of Moses, the mournful details of which have given scope to the poetical imagination of the artist. The varied group to whom Moses has just read the Law for the last time, the sorrow of Joshua, who is kneeling before the man of God, the charming landscape, with the river Jordan threading its way between the mountains, which are made singularly beautiful, as if to explain the regrets of Moses when the angel announces to him that he will not enter into the promised land—all form a series of melancholy scenes perfectly in harmony with one another, the only defect being that the whole is crowded into too small a space."—Rio. Poetry of Christian Art.

"The ceiling of the Sistine Chapel contains the most perfect works done by Michael Angelo in his long and active life. Here his great spirit appears in its noblest dignity, in its highest purity; here the attention is not disturbed by that arbitrary display to which his great power not unfrequently seduced him in other works. The ceiling forms a flattened arch in its section; the central portion, which is a plain surface, contains a series of large and small pictures, representing the most important events recorded in the book of Genesis—the Creation and Fall of Man, with its immediate consequences. In the large triangular compartments at the springing of the vault, are sitting figures of the prophets and sibyls, as the foretellers of the coming of the Saviour. In the soffits of the recesses between these compartments, and in the arches underneath, immediately above the windows, are the ancestors of the Virgin, the series leading the mind directly to the Saviour. The external connection of these numerous representations is formed by an architectural framework of peculiar composition, which encloses the single subjects, tends to make the principal masses conspicuous, and gives to the whole an appearance of that solidity and support so necessary, but so seldom attended to, in soffit decorations, which may be considered as if suspended. A great number of figures are also connected with the framework; those in unimportant situations are executed in the colour of stone or bronze; in the more important, in natural colours. These serve to support the architectural forms, to fill up and to connect the whole. They may be best described as the living and embodied genii of architecture. It required the unlimited power of an architect, sculptor, and painter, to conceive a structural whole of so much grandeur, to design the decorative figures with the significant repose required by the sculpturesque character, and yet to preserve their subordination to the principal subjects, and to keep the latter in the proportions and relations best adapted to the space to be filled."—Kugler, p. 301.

The pictures from the Old Testament, beginning from the altar, are:

1. The Separation of Light and Darkness.
2. The Creation of the Sun and Moon.
3. The Creation of Trees and Plants.
4. The Creation of Adam.
5. The Creation of Eve.
6. The Fall and the Expulsion from Paradise.
7. The Sacrifice of Noah.
8. The Deluge.
9. The Intoxication of Noah.

"The scenes from Genesis are the most sublime representations of these subjects;—the Creating Spirit is unveiled before us. The peculiar type which the painter has here given of the form of the Almighty Father has been frequently imitated by his followers, and even by Raphael, but has been surpassed by none. Michael Angelo has represented him in majestic flight, sweeping through the air, surrounded by genii, partly supporting, partly borne along with him, covered by his floating drapery; they are the distinct syllables, the separate virtues of his creating word. In the first (large) compartment we see him with extended hands, assigning to the sun and moon their respective paths. In the second, he awakens the first man to life. Adam lies stretched on the verge of the earth, in the act of raising himself; the Creator touches him with the point of his finger, and appears thus to endow him with feeling and life. This picture displays a wonderful depth of thought in the composition, and the utmost elevation and majesty in the general treatment and execution. The third subject is not less important, representing the Fall of Man and his Expulsion from Paradise. The tree of knowledge stands in the midst, the serpent (the upper part of the body being that of a woman) is twined around the stem; she bends down towards the guilty pair, who are in the act of plucking the forbidden fruit. The figures are nobly graceful, particularly that of Eve. Close to the serpent hovers the angel with the sword, ready to drive the fallen beings out of Paradise. In this double action, this union of two separate moments, there is something peculiarly poetic and significant: it is guilt and punishment in one picture. The sudden and lightning-like appearance of the avenging angel behind the demon of darkness has a most impressive effect."—Kugler, p. 304.

"It was the seed of Eve that was to bruise the serpent's head. Hence it is that Michael Angelo made the Creation of Eve the central subject on the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel. He had the good taste to suggest, and yet to avoid, that literal rendering of the biblical story which in the ruder representations borders on the grotesque, and which Milton, with all his pomp of words, could scarcely idealise."—Mrs. Jameson, Hist. of Our Lord.

1. Jonah.
2. Jeremiah.	7. Sibylla Libyca.
3. Sibylla Persica.	8. Daniel.
4. Ezekiel.	9. Sibylla Cumæa.
5. Sibylla Erythræa.	10. Isaiah.
6. Joel.	11. Sibylla Delphica.
12. Zachariah.

"The prophets and sibyls in the triangular compartments of the curved portion of the ceiling are the largest figures in the whole work; these, too, are among the most wonderful forms that modern art has called into life. They are all represented seated, employed with books or rolled manuscripts; genii stand near, or behind them. These mighty beings sit before us pensive, meditative, inquiring, or looking upwards with inspired countenances. Their forms and movements, indicated by the grand lines and masses of the drapery, are majestic and dignified. We see in them beings, who, while they feel and bear the sorrows of a corrupt and sinful world, have power to look for consolation into the secrets of the future. Yet the greatest variety prevails in the attitudes and expression—each figure is full of individuality. Zacharias is an aged man, busied in calm and circumspect investigation; Jeremiah is bowed down absorbed in thought—the thought of deep and bitter grief; Ezekiel turns with hasty movement to the genius next to him, who points upwards, with joyful expectation, &c. The sibyls are equally characteristic: the Persian—a lofty, majestic woman, very aged; the Erythræan—full of power, like the warrior goddess of wisdom; the Delphic—like Cassandra, youthfully soft and graceful, but with strength to bear the awful seriousness of revelation."—Kugler, p. 304.

"The belief of the Roman Catholic Church in the testimony of the Sibyl is shown by the well-known hymn, said to have been composed by Pope Innocent III. at the close of the thirteenth century, beginning with the verse:—

'Dies iræ, dies illa,
Solvet sæclum in favilla,
Teste David cum Sibylla.'

It may be inferred that this hymn, admitted into the liturgy of the Roman Church, gave sanction to the adoption of the Sibyls into Christian art. They are seen from this time accompanying the prophets and apostles in the cyclical decorations of the church.... But the highest honour that art has rendered to the Sibyls has been by the hand of Michael Angelo, on the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel. Here, in the conception of a mysterious order of women, placed above and without all considerations of the graceful or the individual, the great master was peculiarly in his element. They exactly fitted his standard of art, not always sympathetic, nor comprehensible to the average human mind, of which the grand in form and the abstract in expression, were the first and last conditions. In this respect, the Sibyls on the Sistine Chapel ceiling are more Michael Angelesque than their companions the Prophets. For these, while types of the highest monumental treatment, are yet men, while the Sibyls belong to a distinct class of beings, who convey the impression of the very obscurity in which their history is wrapt—creatures who have lived far from the abodes of men, who are alike devoid of the expression of feminine sweetness, human sympathy, or sacramental beauty; who are neither Christians nor Jewesses, Witches nor Graces, yet living, grand, beautiful, and true, according to laws revealed to the great Florentine genius only. Thus their figures may be said to be unique, as the offspring of a peculiar sympathy between the master's mind and his subject. To this sympathy may be ascribed the prominence and size given them—both Prophets and Sibyls—as compared to their usual relation to the subjects they environ. They sit here in twelve throne-like niches, more like presiding deities, each wrapt in self-contemplation, than as tributary witnesses to the truth and omnipotence of Him they are intended to announce. Thus they form a gigantic framework round the subjects of the Creation, of which the birth of Eve, as the type of the Nativity, is the intentional centre. For some reason, the twelve figures are not Prophets and Sibyls alternately—there being only five Sibyls to seven Prophets—so that the Prophets come together at one angle. Books and scrolls are given indiscriminately to them.

"The Sibylla Persica, supposed to be the oldest of the sisterhood, holds the book close to her eyes, as if from dimness of sight, which fact, contradicted as it is by a frame of obviously Herculean strength, gives a mysterious intentness to the action.

"The Sibylla Libyca, of equally powerful proportions, but less closely draped, is grandly wringing herself to lift a massive volume from a height above her head on to her knees.

"The Sibylla Cumana, also aged, and with her head covered, is reading with her volume at a distance from her eyes.

"The Sibylla Delphica, with waving hair escaping from her turban, is a beautiful young being—the most human of all—gazing into vacancy or futurity. She holds a scroll.

"The Sibylla Erythræa, grand bare-headed creature, sits reading intently with crossed legs, about to turn over her book.

"The Prophets are equally grand in structure, and though, as we have said, not more than men, yet they are the only men that could well bear the juxtaposition with their stupendous female colleagues. Ezekiel, between Erythræa and Persica, has a scroll in his hand that hangs by his side, just cast down, as he turns eagerly to listen to some voice.

"Jeremiah, a magnificent figure, sits with elbow on knee, and head on hand, wrapt in the meditation appropriate to one called to utter lamentation and woe. He has neither book nor scroll.

"Jonah is also without either. His position is strained and ungraceful—looking upwards, and apparently remonstrating with the Almighty upon the destruction of the gourd, a few leaves of which are seen above him. His hands are placed together with a strange and trivial action, supposed to denote the counting on his fingers the number of days he was in the fish's belly. A formless marine monster is seen at his side.

"Daniel has a book on his lap, with one hand on it. He is young, and a piece of lion's skin seems to allude to his history."—Lady Eastlake, Hist. of Our Lord, i. 248.

"In the upper half of the picture we see the Judge of the world, surrounded by the apostles and patriarchs; beyond these, on one side, are the martyrs; on the other, the saints, and a numerous host of the blessed. Above, under the two arches of the vault, two groups of angels bear the instruments of the passion. Below the Saviour another group of angels holding the book of life sound the trumpets to awaken the dead. On the right is represented the resurrection; and higher, the ascension of the blessed. On the left, hell, and the fall of the condemned, who audaciously strive to press to heaven.

"The day of wrath ('dies iræ') is before us—the day, of which the old hymn says,—

'Quantus tremor est futurus, Quando judex est venturus Cuncta stricte discussurus.'

The Judge turns in wrath towards the condemned and raises his right hand, with an expression of rejection and condemnation; beside him the Virgin veils herself with her drapery, and turns, with a countenance full of anguish, toward the blessed. The martyrs, on the left, hold up the instruments and proofs of their martyrdom, in accusation of those who had occasioned their temporal death: these the avenging angels drive from the gates of heaven, and fulfil the sentence pronounced against them. Trembling and anxious, the dead rise slowly, as if still fettered by the weight of an earthly nature; the pardoned ascend to the blessed; a mysterious horror pervades even their hosts—no joy, nor peace, nor blessedness, are to be found here.

"It must be admitted that the artist has laid a stress on this view of his subject, and this has produced an unfavourable effect upon the upper half of his picture. We look in vain for the glory of heaven, for beings who bear the stamp of divine holiness, and renunciation of human weakness; everywhere we meet with the expression of human passion, of human efforts. We see no choir of solemn, tranquil forms, no harmonious unity of clear, grand lines, produced by ideal draperies; instead of these, we find a confused crowd of the most varied movements, naked bodies in violent attitudes, unaccompanied by any of the characteristics made sacred by holy tradition. Christ, the principal figure of the whole, wants every attribute but that of the Judge: no expression of divine majesty reminds us that it is the Saviour who exercises this office. The upper part of the composition is in many parts heavy, notwithstanding the masterly boldness of the drawing; confused, in spite of the separation of the principal and accessory groups; capricious, notwithstanding a grand arrangement of the whole. But, granting for a moment that these defects exist, still this upper portion, as a whole, has a very impressive effect, and, at the great distance from which it is seen, some of the defects alluded to are less offensive to the eye. The lower half deserves the highest praise. In these groups, from the languid resuscitation and upraising of the pardoned, to the despair of the condemned, every variety of expression, anxiety, anguish, rage, and despair, is powerfully delineated. In the convulsive struggles of the condemned with the evil demons, the most passionate energy displays itself, and the extraordinary skill of the artist here finds its most appropriate exercise. A peculiar tragic grandeur pervades alike the beings who are given up to despair and their hellish tormentors. The representation of all that is fearful, far from being repulsive, is thus invested with that true moral dignity which is so essential a condition in the higher aims of art."—Kugler, p. 308.

"The Last Judgment is now more valuable as a school of design than as a fine painting, and it will be sought more for the study of the artist, than the delight of the amateur. Beautiful it is not—but it is sublime;—sublime in conception, and astonishing in execution. Still, I believe, there are few who do not feel that it is a labour rather than a pleasure to look at it. Its blackened surface—its dark and dingy sameness of colouring—the obscurity which hangs over it—the confusion and multitude of naked figures which compose it—their unnatural position, suspended in the air, and the sameness of form and attitude, confound and bewilder the senses. These were, perhaps, defects inseparable from the subject, although it was one admirably calculated to call forth the powers of Michael Angelo. To merit in colouring it has confessedly no pretensions, and I think it is also deficient in expression—that in the conflicting passions, hopes, fears, remorse, despair, and transport, that must agitate the breasts of so many thousands in that awful moment, there was room for powerful expression which we do not see here. But it is faded and defaced; the touches of immortal genius are lost for ever; and from what it is, we can form but a faint idea of what it was. Its defects daily become more glaring—its beauties vanish; and, could the spirit of its great author behold the mighty work upon which he spent the unremitting labour of seven years, with what grief and mortification would he gaze upon it now.

"It may be fanciful, but it seems to me that in this, and in every other of Michael Angelo's works, you may see that the ideas, beauties, and peculiar excellences of statuary, were ever present to his mind; that they are the conceptions of a sculptor embodied in painting.

" ...St. Catharine, in a green gown, and somebody else in a blue one, are supremely hideous. Paul IV., in an unfortunate fit of prudery, was seized with the resolution of whitewashing over the whole of the Last Judgment, in order to cover the scandal of a few naked female figures. With difficulty was he prevented from utterly destroying the grandest painting in the world, but he could not be dissuaded from ordering these poor women to be clothed in this unbecoming drapery. Daniele da Volterra, whom he employed in this office (in the lifetime of Michael Angelo), received, in consequence, the name of Il Braghettone (the breeches-maker)."—Eaton's Rome.

"Michel-Ange est extraordinaire, tandis qu'Orcagna [345] est religieux. Leurs compositions se résument dans les deux Christs qui jugent. L'un est un bourreau qui foudroie, l'autre est un monarque qui condamne en montrant la plaie sacrée de son côté pour justifier sa sentence."—Cartier, Vie du Père Angelico.

"The Apostles in Michael Angelo's Last Judgment stand on each side of the Saviour, who is not, here, Saviour and Redeemer, but inexorable Judge. They are grandly and artificially grouped, all without any drapery whatever, with forms and attitudes which recall an assemblage of Titans holding a council of war, rather than the glorified companions of Christ."—Jameson's Sacred and Legendary Art, i. 179.

"On Wednesday afternoon began the Miserere in the Sistine Chapel.... The old cardinals entered in their magnificent violet-coloured velvet cloaks, with their white ermine capes; and seated themselves side by side, in a great half-circle, within the barrier, whilst the priests who had carried their trains seated themselves at their feet. By the little side door of the altar the holy father now entered in his purple mantle and silver tiara. He ascended his throne. Bishops swung the vessels of incense around him, whilst young priests, in scarlet vestments, knelt, with lighted torches in their hands, before him and the high altar.

"The reading of the lessons began.[346] But it was impossible to keep the eyes fixed on the lifeless letters of the missal—they raised themselves, with the thoughts, to the vast universe which Michael Angelo had breathed forth in colours upon the ceiling and the walls. I contemplated his mighty sibyls and wondrously glorious prophets, every one of them a subject for a painting. My eyes drank in the magnificent processions, the beautiful groups of angels; they were not to me painted pictures, all stood living before me. The rich tree of knowledge, from which Eve gave the fruit to Adam: the Almighty God, who floated over the waters, not borne up by angels, as the older masters had represented him—no, the company of angels rested upon him and his fluttering garments. It is true I had seen these pictures before, but never as now had they seized upon me. My excited state of mind, the crowd of people, perhaps even the lyric of my thoughts, made me wonderfully alive to poetical impressions; and many a poet's heart has felt as mine did!

"The bold foreshortenings, the determinate force with which every figure steps forward, is amazing, and carries one quite away! It is a spiritual Sermon on the Mount in colour and form. Like Raphael, we stand in astonishment before the power of Michael Angelo. Every prophet is a Moses like that which he formed in marble. What giant forms are those which seize upon our eye and our thoughts as we enter! But, when intoxicated with this view, let us turn our eyes to the background of the chapel, whose whole wall is a high altar of art and thought. The great chaotic picture, from the floor to the roof, shows itself there like a jewel, of which all the rest is only the setting. We see there the Last Judgment.

"Christ stands in judgment upon the clouds, and the apostles and his mother stretch forth their hands beseeching for the poor human race. The dead raise the gravestones under which they have lain; blessed spirits float upwards, adoring, to God, whilst the abyss seizes its victims. Here one of the ascending spirits seeks to save his condemned brother, whom the abyss already embraces in its snaky folds. The children of despair strike their clenched fists upon their brows and sink into the depths! In bold foreshortening, float and tumble whole legions between heaven and earth. The sympathy of the angels; the expression of lovers who meet; the child that, at the sound of the trumpet, clings to the mother's breast, is so natural and beautiful, that one believes oneself to be among those who are waiting for judgment. Michael Angelo has expressed in colours what Dante saw and has sung to the generations of the earth.

"The descending sun, at that moment, threw his last beams in through the uppermost windows. Christ, and the blessed around him, were strongly lighted up; whilst the lower part, where the dead arose, and the demons thrust their boat, laden with damned, from shore, were almost in darkness.

"Just as the sun went down the last Psalm was ended, and the last light which now remained was extinguished, and the whole picture-world vanished in the gloom from before me; but, in that same moment, burst forth music and singing. That which colour had bodily revealed arose now in sound: the day of judgment, with its despair and its exultation, resounded above us.

"The father of the Church, stripped of his papal pomp, stood before the altar, and prayed to the holy cross; and upon the wings of the trumpet resounded the trembling quire, 'Populus meus, quid feci tibi!' Soft angel notes rose above the deep song, tones which ascended not from a human breast: it was not a man's nor a woman's: it belonged to the world of spirits: it was like the weeping of angels dissolved in melody."'—Anderson's Improvisatore.

"Le Miserere, c'est-à-dire, ayez pitié de nous, est un psaume composé de versets qui se chantent alternativement d'une manière très-différente. Tour-à-tour une musique céleste se fait entendre, et le verset suivant, dit en récitatif, et murmuré d'un ton sourd et presque rauque, on dirait que c'est la réponse des caractères durs aux cœurs sensibles, que c'est le réel de la vie qui vient flétrir et repousser les vœux des âmes généreuses; et quand le chœur si doux reprend, on renaît à l'espérance; mais lorsque le verset récité recommence, une sensation de froid saisit de nouveau; ce n'est pas la terreur qui la cause, mais le découragement de l'enthousiasme. Enfin le dernier morceau, plus noble et plus touchant encore que tous les autres, laisse au fond de l'âme une impression douce et pure: Dieu nous accorde cette même impression avant de mourir.

"On éteint les flambeaux; la nuit s'avance; les figures des prophètes et des sibylles apparaissent comme des fantômes enveloppés du crépuscule. Le silence est profond, la parole ferait un mal insupportable dans cet état de l'âme, où tout est intime et intérieur; et quand le dernier son s'éteint, chacun s'en va lentement et sans bruit; chacun semble craindre de rentrer dans les intérêts vulgaires de ce monde."—Mad. de Staël.

Right.—

5. *Caryatide.

This statue was admirably restored by Thorwaldsen. Its Greek origin is undoubted, and it is supposed to be the missing figure from the Erechtheum at Athens.

"Quand une fille des premières familles n'avait pour vêtement, comme celle-ci, qu'une chemise et par-dessus une demi-chemise; quand elle avait l'habitude de porter des vases sur sa tête, et par suite de se tenir droite; quand pour toute toilette elle retroussait ses cheveux ou les laissait tomber en boucles; quand le visage n'était pas plissé par les mille petites grâces et les mille petites préoccupations bourgeoises, une femme pouvait avoir la tranquille attitude de cette statue. Aujourd'hui il en reste un débris dans les paysannes des environs qui portent leurs corbeilles sur la tête, mais elles sont gâtées par le travail et les haillons. Le sein paraît sous la chemise; la tunique colle et visiblement n'est qu'un linge; on voit la forme de la jambe qui casse l'étoffe au genou; les pieds apparaissent nus dans les sandales. Rien ne peut rendre le sérieux naturel du visage. Certainement, si on pouvait revoir la personne réelle avec ses bras blancs, ses cheveux noirs, sous la lumière du soleil, les genoux plieraient, comme devant une déesse, de respect et de plaisir."—Taine, Voyage en Italie.

8. Commodus.

"La statue de Commode est très curieuse par le costume. Il tient à la main une lance, il a des espèces de bottes: tout cela est du chasseur, enfin il porte la tunique à manches dont parle Dion Cassius, et qui était son costume d'amphithéâtre."—Ampère, Emp. ii. 246.

9. Colossal head of a Dacian, from the Forum of Trajan.

11. Silenus and the infant Bacchus.

This is a copy from the Greek, of which there were several replicas. One, formerly in the Villa Borghese, is now at Paris. The original group is described by Pliny, who says that the name of the sculptor was lost even in his time. The greater portion of the child, the left arm and hand of Silenus, and the ivy-leaves, are restorations.

"Je pense que ce chef-d'œuvre est une imitation modifiée du Mercure nourricier de Bacchus, par Céphisodote, fils de Praxitèle."—Ampère, Hist. Rom. iii. 332.

14. *Augustus, found 1863, in the villa of Livia at Prima-Porta.

"This is, without exception, the finest portrait statue of this class in the whole collection.... The cuirass is covered with small figures, in basso-relievo, which, as works of art, are even finer than the statue itself, and merit the most careful examination. These small figures are, in their way, marvels of art, for the wonderful boldness of execution and minuteness of detail shown in them. They are almost like cameos, and yet, with all the delicacy of finish displayed, there is no mere smoothness of surface. The central group is supposed to represent the restoration to Augustus by King Phraates of the eagles taken from Crassus and Antony. Considerable traces of colour were found on this statue and are still discernible. Close examination will also show that the face and eyes were coloured."—Shakspere Wood.

17. Æsculapius.

20. Nerva? Head modern.

23. *Pudicitia. From the Villa Mattei. Head modern.

"The portrait of a noble Roman lady, much disfigured by restorations. This statue shows the neglect, by a sculptor of great ability, of that thoroughness of execution which was such a characteristic of Greek art. Compare the great beauty of the lower portion of the drapery, seen from the front, with the poverty of execution at the back."—Shakspere Wood.

"Qu'on regarde une statue toute voilée, par exemple celle de la Pudicité: il est evident que le vêtement antique n'altère pas la forme du corps, que les plis collants ou mouvants reçoivent du corps leurs formes et leurs changements, qu'on suit sans peine à travers les plis l'équilibre de toute la charpente, la rondeur de l'épaule ou de la hanche, le creux du dos."—Taine.

26. Titus. Found 1828, near the Lateran (with his daughter Julia).

27, 40, 92. Colossal busts of Medusa, from the temple of Venus at Rome.

32, 33. Fauns, sitting, from the villa of Quintilius at Tivoli.

38. Ganymede, found at Ostia; on the tree against which he leans is engraved the name of Phædimus.

39. Vase of black basalt, found on the Quirinal. It stands on a mosaic, from the Tor Marancia.

41. Faun playing on a flute, from the villa of Lucullus.

44. Wounded Amazon (both arms and legs are restorations).

"Les trois Amazones blessées de Rome ne peuvent être que des copies de la célèbre Amazone de Crésilas.... Ce Crésilas fut l'auteur du guerrier grec mourant qui selon toute apparence a inspiré le prétendu Gladiateur mourant auquel s'applique merveilleusement bien ce que dit Pline du premier."—Ampère, Hist. Rom. iii. 263.

47. Caryatide.

48. Bust of Trajan.

50. *Diana contemplating the sleeping Endymion.

53. Euripides.

"Le plus remarquable portrait d'Euripide est une belle statue au Vatican. Cette statue donne une haute idée de la sublimité de l'art tragique en Grèce.... Regardez ce poëte, combien toute sa personne a de gravité et de grandeur, rien n'avertit qu'on a devant les yeux celui qui aux yeux des juges sévères, affaiblissait l'art et le corrompait; l'attitude est simple, le visage sérieux, comme il convient à un poëte philosophe. Ce serait la plus belle statue de poëte tragique si la statue de Sophocle n'existait pas."—Ampère, iii. 572.

62. *Demosthenes, found near Frescati.

"Both hands were wanting, and the restorer has replaced them holding a roll.... They were originally placed with the fingers clasped together, and the proofs are these. An anecdote is related of an Athenian soldier, who had hidden some stolen money in the clasped hands of a statue of Demosthenes; and if you observe the lines formed by the fore-arms, from the elbows to half-way down the wrists, where the restoration commences, you will find that, continued on, they would bring the wrists very much nearer to each other than they now are in the restoration. It is possible that this is the identical statue spoken of."—Shakspere Wood.

67. *Apoxyomenos. An Athlete scraping his arm with a strigil; found 1849 in the Vicolo delle Palure in the Trastevere.

This is a replica of the celebrated bronze statue of Lysippus, and is described by Pliny, who narrates that it was brought from Greece by Agrippa to adorn the baths which he built for the people, and that Tiberius so admired it, that he carried it off to his palace, but was forced to restore it by the outcries of the populace, the next time he appeared in public.

Left.—

71. Amazon. (Arms and feet restorations by Thorwaldsen.)

77. Antonia, from Tusculum.

81. Bust of Hadrian.

83. Juno? (head, a restoration) from Hadrian's villa.

86. Fortune with a cornucopia, from Ostia.

92. Venus Anadyomena.

"La gracieuse Vénus Anadyomène, que chacun connaît, a le mérite de nous rendre une peinture perdue d'Apelles; elle en a un autre encore, c'est de nous conserver dans ce portrait—qui n'est point en buste—quelques traits de la beauté de Campaspe, d'après laquelle Apelles, dit-on, peignit sa Venus Anadyomène."—Ampère, iii. 324.

96. Bust of Marc Antony, from the Tor Sapienza.

109. *Colossal group of the Nile, found, temp. Leo X., near Sta. Maria sopra Minerva.

A Greek statue. The sixteen children clambering over it are restorations, and allude to the sixteen cubits' depth with which the river annually irrigates the country. On the plinth, the accompaniments of the river,—the ibis, crocodile, hippopotamus, &c., are represented.

111. Julia, daughter of Titus, found near the Lateran.

"Cette princesse, de la nouvelle et bourgeoise race des Flaviens, n'offre rien du noble profil et de la fière beauté des Agrippines: elle a un nez écrasé et l'air commun. La coiffure de Julie achève de la rendre disgracieuse: c'est une manière de pouf assez semblable à une éponge. Comparé aux coiffures du siècle d'Auguste, le tour de cheveux ridicule de Julie montre la décadence du goût, plus rapide dans la toilette que dans l'art."—Ampère, Emp. ii. 120.

112. Bust of Juno, called the Juno Pentini.

114. *Minerva Medica, found in the temple so called; formerly in the Giustiniani collection.

A most beautiful Greek statue, much injured by restoration.

"In the Giustiniani palace is a statue of Minerva which fills me with admiration. Winckelmann scarcely thinks anything of it, or at any rate does not give it its proper position; but I cannot praise it sufficiently. While we were gazing upon the statue, and standing a long time beside it, the wife of the custode told us that it was once a sacred image, and that the English, who are of that religion, still held it in veneration, being in the habit of kissing one of its hands, which was certainly quite white, while the rest of the statue was of a brownish colour. She added, that a lady of this religion had been there a short time before, had thrown herself on her knees, and worshipped the statue. Such a wonderful action she, as a Christian, could not behold without laughter, and fled from the room, for fear of exploding."—Goethe.

117. Claudius.

120. A replica of the Faun of Praxiteles, inferior to that at the Capitol.

"Le jeune Satyre qui tient une flûte est trop semblable à celui du Capitole pour n'être pas de même une reproduction de l'un des deux Satyres isolés de Praxitèle, son Satyre d'Athènes ou son Satyre de Mégare; on pourrait croire aussi que le Satyre à la flûte a eu pour original le Satyre de Protogène qui, bien que peint dans Rhodes assiégée, exprimait le calme le plus profond et qu'on appelait celui qui se repose (anapauomenos); on pourrait le croire, car la statue a toujours une jambe croisée sur l'autre, attitude qui, dans le langage de la sculpture antique, désigne le repos. Il ne serait pas impossible non plus que Protogène se fût inspiré de Praxitèle; mais en ce cas il n'en avait pas reproduit complétement le charme, car Apelles, tout en admirant une autre figure de Protogène, lui reprochait de manquer de grâce. Or, le Satyre à la flûte est très-gracieux; ce qui me porte à croire qu'il vient directement de Praxitèle plutôt que de Praxitèle par Protogène."—Ampère, Hist. Rom. iii. 308.

123. L. Verus. Naked statue.

126. Athlete; the discus a restoration.

129. Domitian, from the Giustiniani collection.

132. Mercury (the head a restoration by Canova), from the Villa Negroni.

Here we re-enter the Museo Chiaramonti, lined with sculptures, chiefly of inferior interest. They are arranged in thirty compartments. We may notice:

	I. 6, 13. Autumn and Winter, two sarcophagi from Ostia, the latter bearing the name of Publius Elius Verus.
VIII.	r. 176. A beautiful mutilated fragment, supposed to be one of the daughters of Niobe.
	r. 197. Head of Roma, from Laurentum.
XIV.	r. 352. Venus Anadyomena.
XVI.	r. 400. Tiberius, seated, found at Veii in 1811.
	r. 401. Augustus, from Veii.
XVII.	r. 417. *Bust of the young Augustus, found at Ostia, 1808.
XX.	r. 494. Seated statue of Tiberius, from Piperno.
	r. 495. Cupid bending his bow, a copy of a statue by Lysippus.
XXI.	r. 550, 512. Two busts of Cato.
XXIV.	r. 589. Mercury, found near the Monte di Pietà.
XXV.	r. 606. Head of Neptune, from Ostia.
XXX.	r. 732. Recumbent Hercules, from Hadrian's Villa.

At the end of this gallery is the entrance to the Giardino della Pigna (described under the Vatican Gardens). Admittance may probably be obtained from hence for a fee of 50 c. At the top of the short staircase, on the left, is the entrance of the Egyptian Museum. Here we enter the Museo Pio-Clementino, founded under Clement XIV., but chiefly due to the liberality and taste of Pius VI., in whose reign, however, most of the best statues were carried off to Paris, though they were restored to Pius VII.

In the centre of 1st Vestibule is the *Torso Belvidere, found in the baths of Caracalla, and sculptured, as is told by a Greek inscription on its base, by Apollonius, son of Nestor of Athens. It was to this statue that Michael-Angelo declared that he owed his power of representing the human form, and in his blind old age he used to be led up to it, that he might pass his hands over it, and still enjoy, through touch, the grandeur of its lines.

"And dost thou still, thou mass of breathing stone
(Thy giant limbs to night and chaos hurled),
Still sit as on the fragment of a world,
Surviving all, majestic and alone?
What tho' the Spirits of the North, that swept
Rome from the earth when in her pomp she slept,
Smote thee with fury, and thy headless trunk
Deep in the dust 'mid tower and temple sunk;
Soon to subdue mankind 'twas thine to rise,
Still, still unquelled thy glorious energies!
Aspiring minds, with thee conversing, caught
Bright revelations of the good they sought;
By thee that long-lost spell in secret given,
To draw down gods, and lift the soul to Heaven."
Rogers.

"Quelle a été l'original du torse d'Hercule, ce chef-d'œuvre que palpait de ses mains intelligentes Michel-Ange aveugle et réduit à ne plus voir que par elles? Heyne a pensé que ce pouvait être une copie en grand de l'Hercule Epitrapezios de Lysippe, mais par le style cette statue me semble antérieure à Lysippe. Cependant on lit sur le torse le nom d'Apollonios d'Athènes, fils de Nestor, et la forme des lettres ne permet pas de placer cette inscription plus haut que le dernier siècle de la République.

"Comment admettre que cette statue, aussi admirée par Winckelmann que par Michel-Ange, ce débris auquel on revient après l'éblouissement de l'Apollon du Belvidère, pour retrouver une sculpture plus mâle et plus simple, un style plus fort et plus grand; comment admettre qu'une telle statue soit l'œuvre d'un sculpteur inconnu dont Pline ne parle point, ni personne autre dans l'antiquité, et qu'elle date d'un temps si éloigné de la grande époque de Phidias, quand elle semble y tenir de si près?

" ... Pourquoi le torse du Vatican ne serait-il pas d'Alcamène, ou, si l'on veut, d'après Alcamène, par Apollonius?"—Ampère, Hist. Rome, iii. p. 360, 363.

"Pius VII. Aquila Rapax. Leo XII. Canis et coluber. Pius VIII. Vir religiosus. Gregory XVI. de Balneis Etruriæ. Pius IX. Crux de cruce. . . . Lumen in cœlo. . . . Ignis ardens. . . . Religio depopulata.	. . . Fides intrepida. . . . Pastor angelicus. . . . Pastor et nauta. . . . Flos florum. . . . De medietate lunæ. . . . De labore solis. . . . Gloria olivæ.
In persecutione extrema sacra Romanæ Ecclesiæ sedebit PETRUS Romanus, qui pascet oves in multis tribulationibus: quibus transactis, civitas septicollis diruetur, et JUDEX tremendus judicabit populum."