As the glass dropped, the modern vale of Sheeraz returned and as soon vanished. Passing over Palestine, the Levant, Archipelago, Greece and Italy, our next stand was on the banks of the Tiber, among ruined monuments of ancient Rome. The remains of arches, towers and temples, porticos and palaces, where the Cæsars and Scipios once lived, lay before me. A gloomy grandeur covered the scene with awful solemnity, and filled my soul with sensations equally sublime and melancholy.
“There the vile foot of every clown,
Tramples the sons of honor down,
Beggars with awful ashes sport,
And tread the Cæsars to the dirt.”
My airy governess now drew the glass beyond the eighteenth circle. I looked through it and beheld Rome at the zenith of her ancient greatness. A forest of towers covered her seven hills. Never, even in imagination, had I beheld so grand a scene. Her temples, domes and structures, rose and expanded on my view, and at once displayed the glories of that queen of cities. Noble and beautiful villas covered as far as the eye could see, the banks of the Tiber: and the whole prospect appeared as though the wealth, the arts, sciences and elegance of the world, were collected to adorn and beautify the scene.
In the forum a vast assembly of people were listening to the address of an orator, who, from his dignified and commanding manner, I took to be Cicero. My guide assured me it was none else. His attitude, his gestures, his whole manner, were sublime. He was pleading for Milo. The occasion had drawn together an innumerable throng of spectators. I admired the elegance of the criminal: his appearance was firm, heroic, and great. Pompey was present at the head of a select body of troops.
I have seen no man in modern times who can bear a comparison with Pompey. He had the qualities of great men with a dignity peculiar to himself.
On high glittered the Roman eagle, and the whole group of objects appeared with a majesty and resplendence not to be described. The judges, the criminal, the orator, the general, the nobility of Rome, the army and the spectators, possessed a grandeur of countenance which might have induced one to imagine that all the fine and noble countenances in the world had been collected together.
After indulging my curiosity for a moment, my guide showed me my ancestor. He was a common soldier, and stood near the general, appearing to belong to his life guard. He listened with deep attention to the orator; and at times, roused by the powerful flights of unrivalled eloquence, seemed to lay his hand upon his sword, ready to draw it in defence of innocence.