almost impossible to satisfy them, their curiosity was so great. The noble ladies of Rome lend their jewels to the noviciates, when they are going to take the black veil; they appear at the altar covered with diamonds, and every allurement is added to their charms that the sacrifice may seem the greater. The Italians, with whom we conversed on the subject of these incarcerations, assured us that a very different view from ours was taken at Rome. They said, no unmarried woman could live and be considered as respectable, out of a convent, if her parents were dead; that many of the young people grew so much attached to the superiors during their education, that it was their most earnest desire to remain. We missed seeing the ceremony when two daughters of noblemen took the veil the other day. But the English gentlemen boasted of having shaken hands with those unhappy damsels, and said the whole was conducted with the most scenic effect.

We seldom saw the Corso crowded till about Christmas, when, from one end to the other, it was full of open carriages, driving up and down; and the pavé, bad as it was, appeared thronged with gentlemen. There is an obvious difference in the vanity exhibited in the Corso and in Bond Street; and, as I am upon trifles, perhaps you would like a few remarks upon some odd things that met our eyes, and excited our criticism. Carts drawn by oxen; women, of quite the lower order, with large silver combs; prodigiously fat capuchin friars, with extraordinary beards; women brushing by in scarlet chemises, with long sleeves; over this, blue silk stays, long pink silk shoulder-knots, and coloured petticoats; others with square formed head-dresses, generally handkerchiefs, black petticoats bound with pink ribbon, green spencers, very short behind, covered with pink knots; silk bags on

their heads frequently; at the fountains, women in every costume; men washing lap-dogs, beggars combing and washing themselves; priests, with two footmen walking behind them; men universally in cloaks; and as for eatables, at the festa of the Natali, they are most abundant.

Fish is carried about in large flat circular baskets, prettily arranged on leaves. Brocoli is displayed almost in mountain heaps. Traiteurs running against each other with dinners; sausages hung up in the shops, with the most ludicrous conceit, in festoons, some tied with pink ribbons-others covered with fat, in the shape of various fruits. It never seems to have struck any one here, that there is anything incongruous in ribbons and sausages; but, in the midst of these festoons, prying as you drive by into the depth of the shops, you perceive lights, and votaries at their devotions, before an image of the Virgin, amidst hams, and butter, and eggs. Added to your other fare, you have at Christmas "pane giallo," torrone, uova marangho, spuma d'uova, con spiritu di canella, crema di rosso d'uova, crema di ciocolatà, graste di visciole, pasta di mandella, pasta di bignet, pasta foola vermicelli. Cakes filled with creams, wild boar, capriuólo, anchovies, quails, finocchio, apples covered with quince marmalade, beccafico, hare, lava, veal made up to look like birds, spinach covered with oil, lucia, dried eels, treve fish, grapes, pomegranates, fine chesnuts, &c.; but you laugh-I have done. Now turn your eye to the window-feel it blow this bitter tramontane observe every thing flying, horses furious, mules galloping, and making most hideous neighings, with empty pozzalana sacks on their backs-open carriages-ladies, beautiful and gay, despite the Pope, who prefers, to their gaudy head-dresses, a sable veil. You now find the con

FOUNTAIN OF EGERIA.

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venience of very large panes of glass, with merely thin brass divisions, and as the light fades, regale yourselves with the delicious sound of the sweet Vesper bell: after this, sleep if you can, an incessant noise being made overhead, and in the piazza, by the thoughtless English going to or returning from Torlonia's.

THE FOUNTAIN OF EGERIA.

Passing the Porta Sebastiano, to the Appian way, we turned from amidst the tombs, to the left; and again, in the same direction, arrived at the Temple of Bacchus, decorated with a portico sustained by four Corinthian fluted columns. On the entrance to the right is a Greek inscription, and the Dionysian serpent. Passing round the temple, you descend a dell into a long valley, and discover, as it issues from a mass of túfo, a pretty stream of clear water, the Fountain of Egeria; the orifice from which it flows is beneath a very ancient statue. It creeps down, amidst fern and matted grass, to the Ovidian Almo, which runs along all this valley of Caraffella. The bank projects over a grotto, beautifully ornamented with nature's draperies: the grotto itself formed in the rising hill is of túfo, in opus reticulatum, which I have observed in all the very old monuments of Rome. In its sides are six niches formerly occupied by statues, and the túfo was covered with verde antique.

The scene around is at once mournful and pleasing; a long succession of ruined aqueducts, with temples, runs through the valley, and beyond is the beautifully blue Alban Mount, whilst the pinnacles of San Giovanni Laterano, and St. Pietro, are on the left. It was the month of December, and the beams of a delicious sun lighted up every object.