OPENING from the left of the Piazza Barberini, is the small Piazza of the Cappuccini, named from a convent suppressed since the Sardinian occupation, but which was one of the largest and most populous in Rome.

The conventual church, dedicated to Sta. Maria della Concezione, contains several fine pictures. In the first chapel, on the right, is the magnificent Guido of the Archangel Michael trampling upon the Devil,—said to be a portrait of Pope Innocent X., against whom the painter had a peculiar spite.

"Here the angel, standing, yet scarcely touching the ground, poised on his outspread wings, sets his left foot on the head of his adversary; in one hand he brandishes a sword, in the other he holds the end of a chain, with which he is about to bind down the demon in the bottomless pit. The attitude has been criticised, and justly; the grace is somewhat mannered, verging on the theatrical; but Forsyth is too severe when he talks of 'the air of a dancing master': one thing, however, is certain, we do not think about the attitude when we look at Raphael's St. Michael (in the Louvre); in Guido's it is the first thing that strikes us; but when we look farther, the head redeems all; it is singularly beautiful, and in the blending of the masculine and feminine graces, in the serene purity of the brow, and the flow of the golden hair, there is something divine; a slight, very slight expression of scorn is in the air of the head. The fiend is the worst part of the picture; it is not a fiend, but a degraded prosaic human ruffian; we laugh with incredulous contempt at the idea of an angel called down from heaven to overcome such a wretch. In Raphael the fiend is human, but the head has the god-like ugliness and malignity of a satyr; Guido's fiend is only stupid and base. It appears to me that there is just the same difference—the same kind of difference—between the angel of Raphael and the angel of Guido, as between the description in Tasso and the description in Milton; let any one compare them. In Tasso we are struck by the picturesque elegance of the description as a piece of art, the melody of the verse, the admirable choice of the expressions, as in Guido by the finished but somewhat artificial and studied grace. In Raphael and Milton we see only the vision of a 'shape divine.'"—Jameson's Sacred Art, p. 107.

In the same chapel is a picture by Gherardo della Notte of Christ in the purple robe. The third chapel contains a fresco by Domenichino of the Death of St Francis, and a picture of the Ecstasy of St. Francis, which was a gift from the same painter to this church.

The first chapel on the left contains The Visit of Ananias to Saul, by Pietro da Cortona.

"Whoever would know to what length this painter carried his style in his altar-piece should examine the Conversion of St. Paul in the Cappuccini at Rome, which though placed opposite to the St. Michael of Guido, cannot fail to excite the admiration of such judges as are willing to admit various styles of beauty in art."—Lanzi.

On the left of the high-altar is the tomb of Prince Alexander Sobieski, son of John III., king of Poland, who died at Rome in 1714.

The church was founded in 1624, by Cardinal Barberini, the old monk-brother of Urban VIII., who, while his nephews were employed in building magnificent palaces, refused to take advantage of the family elevation otherwise than to endow this church and convent. He is buried in front of the altar, with the remarkable epitaph—very different to the pompous, self-glorifying inscriptions of his brother—

"Hic jacet pulvis, cinis, et nihil."

This Cardinal Barberini possesses some historical interest from the patronage he extended to Milton during his visit to Rome in 1638.