Opposite to Mount Aventinus is Mount Janiculum, on which Porsenna marshalled his army. It was in front of this hill that Horatius Cocles cut away the bridge, which led to Rome: its foundations still exist. On the banks of the stream was built a brick arch, simple as the action it recalled was great. In the midst of the Tiber floated an island formed of the wheat sheaves gathered from the fields of Tarquin; the Romans forbearing to use them, in the belief that they were charged with evil fate. It would be difficult, in our own day, to call down on any treasure a curse of sufficient efficacy to scare men from its participation.
On Mount Aventinus were temples both to patrician and plebeian chastity: at the foot of the hill the Temple of Vesta still remains, almost entire, though the inundations of the Tiber have often threatened to destroy it. Not far thence are vestiges of a prison for debt, where the well-known instance of filial piety is said to have occurred; here, too, Clœlia and her companions were confined by Porsenna, and swam across the river to rejoin the Romans. Mount Aventinus indemnifies the mind for all the painful recollections the other hills awake; and its aspect is as beauteous as its memories are sweet. The banks at its foot were called the Lovely Strand (pulchrum littus). Thither the orators of Rome walked from the Forum: there Cæsar and Pompey met like simple citizens, and sought to conciliate Cicero, whose independent eloquence was of more weight than even the power of their armies. Poetry also has embellished this spot: it was there that Virgil placed the cave of Cacus; and Rome, so great in history, is still greater by the heroic fictions with which her fabulous origin has been decked. In returning from Mount Aventinus, you see the house of Nicolas Rienzi, who vainly strove to restore the spirit of antiquity in modern days.
Mount Cœlius is remarkable for the remains of a pretorian encampment, and that of the foreign troops: on the ruins of the latter was found an inscription: "To the Holy Genius of the Foreign Camp." Holy, indeed, to those whose power it sustained! What is left of these barracks proves that they were built like cloisters; or, rather, that cloisters were formed after their model.
Esquilinus was called the "Poet's Hill;" Mæcenas, Horace, Propertius, and Tibullus having all houses there. Near this are the ruins of the baths of Trajan and Titus. It is believed that Raphael copied his arabesques from the frescoes of the latter: here, too, was the Laöcoon discovered. The freshness of water is so acceptable in fervid climes, that their natives love to collect all that can pamper the senses in the chambers where they bathe. Thus, by the light of lamps, did the Romans gaze on the chefs-d'œuvres of painting and sculpture; for it appears from the construction of these buildings that day never entered them: they were sheltered from the noontide rays, so piercing here as fully to deserve the title of Apollo's darts. Yet the extreme precautions taken by the ancients might induce a supposition that the climate was more burning then than now. In the baths of Caracalla were the Farnese Hercules, the Flora, and the group of Circe. Near Ostia, in the baths of Nero, was found the Apollo Belvidere. Can we look on that noble figure and conceive Nero destitute of all generous sentiments?
The baths and circusses are the only places of public amusement that have left their vestige. Though the ruins of Marcellus's theatre still exist, Pliny relates that three hundred and sixty marble pillars, and three thousand statues, were placed in a theatre incapable of lasting many days. The Romans, however, soon built with a solidity that defied the earthquake's shock: too soon they wasted like pains on edifices which they destroyed themselves when the fêtes held in them were concluded; thus, in every sense sported they with time. They had not the Grecian's mania for dramatic representations: the fine arts then flourished at Rome only in the works of Greece; and Roman grandeur consisted rather in colossal architecture than in efforts of imagination. The gigantic wonders thus produced bore a very dignified stamp, no longer of liberty, but that of power still. The districts devoted to the public baths were called provinces, and united all the varied establishments to be found in a whole country. The great circus so nearly touched the imperial palace, that Nero, from his window, could give a signal for the commencement of the games. This circus was large enough to contain three hundred thousand people. Almost the whole nation might be amused at the same moment; and these immense festivals might be considered as popular institutions, which assembled for mere pleasure those who formerly united for glory. Mounts Quirinalis and Viminalis are so near each other that it is not easy to distinguish them apart. There stood the houses of Sallust and of Pompey. There, too, in the present day, does the pope reside. One cannot take a single step in Rome, without contrasting its present and its past. But one learns to view the events of one's own time the more calmly far noting the eternal fluctuations that mark the history of man; and one feels ashamed to repine, in the presence, as it were, of so many centuries, who have all overthrown the achievements of their predecessors. Around, and on the Seven Hills, are seen a multitude of spires and obelisks, the columns of Trajan and of Antoninus, the tower of Conti, whence, it is said, Nero overlooked the conflagration of Rome, and the dome of St. Peter's lording it over the highest. The air seems peopled by these heaven-aspiring fanes, as if an aerial city soared majestic above that of the earth. In re-entering Rome, Corinne led Oswald beneath the portico of the tender and suffering Octavia; they then crossed the road along which the infamous Tullia drove over the body of her father: they beheld, in the distance, the temple raised by Agrippina in honor of Claudius, whom she had caused to be poisoned; finally, they passed the tomb of Augustus, the inclosure around which now serves as an arena for animal combats.
"I have led you rapidly," said Corinne, "over a few footprints of ancient history; but you can appreciate the pleasure which may be found in researches at once sage and poetic, addressing the fancy as well as the reason. There are many distinguished men in Rome whose sole occupation is that of discovering new links between our ruins and our history." "I know no study which could interest me more," replied Nevil, "if I felt my mind sufficiently composed for it. Such erudition is far more animated than that we acquire from books: we seem to revive what we unveil; and the past appears to rise from the dust which concealed it." "Doubtless," said Corinne, "this passion for antiquity is no idle prejudice. We live in an age when self-interest seems the ruling principle of all men; what sympathy, what enthusiasm, can ever be its result? Is it not sweeter to dream over the days of self-devotion and heroic sacrifice, which might once have existed, nay, of which the earth still bears such honorable traces?"
[1] Augustus expired at Nola, on his way to the waters of Brunduoium, which were prescribed him. He left Rome in a dying state.