In the history of ornamental architecture, we may observe that the Composite order was not introduced so early as the time of Augustus, but we have not materials to determine the precise date of its invention. It seems to be the order of a people who loved richness of effect, but had not patience or skill to attain the delicacy of the Corinthian: yet there are some examples highly beautiful in design, and exquisitely finished. The remains in the church of Santa Maria in Cosmedim form an example of this, and the capital which adorns the entrance of the baptistery of Constantine is another not less beautiful, but it differs so much in the arrangement of its parts, that if we consider such little particulars as essential characters, it could hardly be considered as the same order. Among the fragments at Rome, we have hundreds of specimens, equally, or more anomalous, but in general of far inferior workmanship, and it would be more convenient to class all these much ornamented capitals as varieties of the Corinthian. The earliest Corinthian entablature was without modillions, and in no wise different from the Ionic. Modillions were probably introduced about the time of Augustus, and the dentils were diminished to make room for them, and even at times omitted; but this fashion does not seem to have lasted. The dentils came in again, but reduced in size, or at least in length; perhaps not in width, for they are proportionally much wider and farther apart, but frequently connected at top, the dentil-band being only cut partially, or else some little ornament was introduced on the upper part of the interval: this indeed occurs in some monuments of the Augustan age. In the same manner the eggs became wider and farther apart, and the little processes between them, which at first were mere points, became arrow-heads. In the temple of Jupiter tonans, each ovolo is laid in the hollow of a leaf, and is itself carved on the surface; and at the same time that the leaves of the capital became more united with the solid which they surround, the ovoli were executed so as to stand more detached from the back ground. This process continued to the time of Dioclesian. The capitals of his baths are not of contemptible workmanship, nor is the entablature bad, though very much inferior in every respect to those of the age of Augustus, and even of Septimius Severus. In the short interval between Dioclesian and Constantine, the builders seem to have forgotten everything; between the reign of Constantine and the death of Honorius, a period of above one hundred years, I have seen no building of any consequence. Some fragments may exist, but as we neither know the history of their erection, nor find any distinguishing peculiarities in the objects themselves, they can furnish us with no assistance in tracing the progress, or rather the downfal of architecture. We may perhaps attribute to this period, the church or basilica of San Lorenzo. The columns and capitals of any edifice then erected at Rome, were probably always taken from older buildings, and the entablature frequently made out of the fragments of former entablatures; but in the portico of that church there is an entablature made for the building, with a high frieze in mosaic, and the mouldings of the cornice are composed of lines nearly straight, and with ornaments of little relief. Of buildings erected during the government of the empress Placidia, and afterwards under the reign of Theodoric, that is, from 425 to 450, and again in the first half of the sixth century, there are seven churches, a baptistery, and two mausolea, existing at Ravenna, which I have already described. In the time of Dioclesian, and before that period, when arches and columns were used together, the arches sprung from the top of the entablature; in Constantine’s time, the practice was to spring them from the capitals of the columns; and in some countries we find this practice existing to a comparatively recent period, especially in cloisters. But the northern nations, in their attempt to copy Roman architecture, imitated rather that of the time of Dioclesian, than of a later date. They however, diminished very much the entablature, and ultimately reduced it to a mere slab over the capital, on which some of the appropriate ornaments of the ancient entablature might still be traced. On the other hand, the architects employed by Theodoric introduced a solid block under the springing, which is evidently derived from the construction of a stone arch, and not from that of a wooden entablature. The same arrangement occurs at St. Mark’s at Venice. This peculiarity forms one striking point of difference between the architecture of the age of Constantine, and of that of Theodoric; another is in the use of corbels: the small columns of the latter age frequently standing upon them; and the impost of the arch is sometimes lengthened out into a corbel, and supported by a column, which is not placed under its extremity; the impost continuing beyond its support, and sustaining a wall, considerably advanced before the face of the columns. Something of this sort occurs in Dioclesian’s palace at Spalatro, but I have not observed it in any of Constantine’s buildings.

A third distinctive mark may be found in the ornaments, and especially in the capitals; in point of execution there is not much difference, but the design in Theodoric’s time is much inferior. The artists no longer endeavoured to imitate the antique, but introduced badly imagined fancies of their own. Theodoric was educated at Constantinople, and probably procured his artists from that city. At a later period we know the church of St. Mark at Venice to have been built under the direction of a Greek architect, and though an interval of several centuries occurred between these erections, we yet observe many points of resemblance; and may reasonably consider some of these peculiarities to arise from the Greek school of art in the later ages. We meet occasionally in other places with traces of the employment of Greek artists, quite enough to shew, that though they combined with the western and northern nations in the degradation of architecture, each nation however, following a road in some degree peculiar to itself, yet that they had nothing to do with the new, and very different style, which arose out of that degradation, and which we now call Gothic.

There was little good architecture out of Rome, at least in Italy: there is an arch at Rimini which is attributed to Augustus, and probably with justice, though the inscription on which it principally depends does not seem to occupy its original situation; and we see at Ancona an arch dedicated to Trajan. The latter is of simple form and pleasing proportion, but the details of both are bad.

You ask me what I think of the Italians, and reproach me with forgetting that there are inhabitants in the palaces I describe, and worshippers in the churches. The buildings are always before me, but what means have I, while thus hastily rambling from place to place, of entering into the character of the people? Yet not to appear rebellious to your authority, I will give you such a sketch as I can, but I fear it will be like those half dozen strokes which a smatterer in drawing sometimes calls a view from nature, but which nobody can understand but himself. In the first place the character of the people in the various states in Italy is considerably different. The Milanese is not like the inhabitant of Venice, nor is either like the Tuscan. The Tuscan peasantry are among the best of the class in Europe. They are cleanly in their houses and persons; they might not perhaps be considered so in Flanders, but they certainly must in Italy; civil and courteous to strangers, and I believe just and honest in their dealings: and add to this, they have a very remarkable felicity of expression in their beautiful language, though they abuse it a little in the pronunciation. They seem to hit naturally upon the very best words possible, and their grammar is almost always correct. The inhabitants of Perugia and Assisi partake with them in their civility and appearance of kindness towards strangers; but this is not the general character of the Roman states, where they are reserved, and sometimes almost sullen, especially in the Campagna. I can fancy that I see in the Romans traces of their ancient character, but perhaps with more of their ferocity under the emperors, and during the middle ages, than of the independence of their early history. Yet there seems to be something of that also. Their ferocity will give way to instruction, and a better religion, if that be permitted them: it is perhaps of all others the quality most unfavourable to liberty. If it had shown itself in the secession to Mons Sacer, the republic must have been destroyed, and Rome could have risen no more. The Roman is proud; the Tuscan is vain; so is the Neapolitan, but in a very different way; the latter is the French vanity exaggerated; the former, that of the Welsh rendered more reasonable; but in all these varieties, I think you rate the Italian character far too low. The germ of many excellences is there; nay, they are half-developed, but an oppressive religion, and a depressive government, hinder their expansion.

There is a curious division of employments at Rome, according to the places whence the persons come. The Romagnuoli, from the north of the Apennines, arrive to cultivate the land in October, and return in February. The Marcheggiani come from the Mark of Ancona, in January or February, for a similar purpose. About half of these return at Easter, the rest remain till the end of June, and the corn is sometimes reaped by them, but they leave the neighbourhood of Rome immediately afterwards, and the labours are continued by the subjects of Naples, principally from the Abruzzi. Men from Genoa and Lucca labour in the olive-grounds. People from Amatrici dig and transport the earth; and this also forms the occupation of some of those from Aquila. Other labourers from Aquila cut wood upon the mountains, but those who cut it on the shore are from another district. The Amatriciani are also porters in the squares and markets, but those on the Ripa are Genoese. House-porters are Grisons, or from the Valtellina. Bakers are from Friuli. Men from Norcia employ themselves in curing hogsflesh in various ways, and in making sausages. Butchers, shoemakers, workers in wool, hackney-coachmen, and a large portion of the domestic servants, are Romans. The people of the Abruzzi generally consider Rome as their capital, and it is said that about one third of the students in the Roman colleges are from that country. One third are Corsicans, and the remainder Romans.

I have sometimes amused myself with a splendid dream of making Rome the capital of the civilized world, or if you will, the point of union; for I wish to give it influence, not authority. It seems to me that such a centre would be extremely desirable; that Rome would be the best place for it; and that the head of the government of such an intellectual capital ought to be a religious, if I may make such a substantive; but that nevertheless it ought to be a free government; and I am prepared to prove logically against all the world, these four propositions, and some others connected with them; but since I am persuaded that neither you nor any body else would attend to my arguments, I may as well spare myself the trouble of writing them. Yet I do not think it such a visionary scheme; and if I were pope, I would instantly set about it. The character of pride, which I have attributed to the Roman, is much in favour of my plan; gratified by considering himself as belonging to the first city in the universe, he is more willing than most other people to see a stranger flourishing beside him, because he feels it in some degree a tribute to the pre-eminence of his native place. Rome has always been famous for the illustrious strangers she has adopted, rather than for the talents of her own citizens, and it is surely more honourable thus to naturalize, than to produce great men; the latter seems a matter of chance, the former to depend on the generous feelings of the inhabitants.

To succeed in such a plan, Rome must be free; this perhaps is the most important condition of any. It is very striking to observe the desolate state of many cities in Italy—once populous, powerful, and flourishing; now spiritless, and half-inhabited.[[20]] Their time of prosperity was one of wars without, and tumult within. Their decay has taken place under a government comparatively mild; they are neither attacked by external enemies, nor torn to pieces by internal dissensions. Added to this, the old governments were radically bad, they were alternately aristocratical and democratical; both forms, which when used unmixed, as was remarkably the case in Italy, are essentially vicious, because they seek the good of a part only. The true idea of a republic is that whose object is the whole, where every existing rank, from the prince to the artisan and peasant, has its due share of influence and equal protection; and the representative government of England is doubtless that which approaches nearest to this beau ideal. Yet bad as they were, there was freedom enough in these Italian cities to counterbalance, and more than counterbalance, the numerous evils to which they were exposed. He who reads Gibbon with attention may observe effects of arbitrary power, and bad institutions, in the decline, not of the Roman empire, but of Italy, under the reign of Constantine, while she was yet uninjured by barbarians; or if his curiosity, and his patience will support him through the pages of Denina, he may there find this idea more fully dwelt upon, though the author is a professed and decided advocate of arbitrary power, thinking,

Che assoluto, dispotico governo

`E buono per l’estate, e per l’inverno.

But you will perhaps tell me that however desirable liberty may be in other cases, yet that where the head of the government is also the head of the Roman Catholic church, the government must be despotic, because the character of the religious institutions requires it. You are mistaken. The Roman pontiff during the middle ages was, on the general system of policy, the friend of liberty, and of the people; he was driven from home, tossed about by the potentates whom he offended, stript at times of almost every thing, yet his influence and authority increased during these vicissitudes, and declined when prudential motives led him to become the tool of other sovereigns. The rule of faith has generally been narrowed to please them, and not him. If he would regain his consequence, he must again be the advocate of rational freedom, mental and bodily, religious and political; his monks must be collections of men of learning and talent; he must suppress his beggars, who obtain more contempt than riches. The circumstances of the times are such, that the most magnanimous conduct is the truest policy. The purest morality and the most enlightened religion are precisely the means by which he could obtain the greatest influence. Religion would very soon take a new tone with free institutions; several practices would be altered, and many abuses would gradually fall, but in all this the only care of the pope would be, not to identify himself with the falling parts of the system. Men are generally willing enough to separate the persons, and legitimate authority of their rulers, from the abuses of the government, if their superiors will let them. I doubt if confession would stand, though Voltaire praises the institution. No man ought in any degree to be released from the responsibility of his own actions; the introduction of rational liberty necessarily brings with it a higher tone of moral feeling. In despotic governments the will of the master gets confounded with the moral law, and this is encouraged by confession to a priest, whose system seems to include the support of all arbitrary governments. Inspiration, and the power of working miracles, would be canvassed as they are in England. Purgatory would probably give way, at least we should not see such notices as the following: