and the spray ascending in volumes from so amazing a depth, are all truly appalling. Visitors who have sufficient firmness of nerve, may descend, by a path that winds down amongst the rocks, to a small summerhouse, which has been erected opposite the fall, and about a hundred feet below the summit. This building seems to be perched on very questionable ground,—the rock on which it stands, projecting so very far over the abyss, as to raise a fear whether it is quite safe to be ventured upon.

After we had seated ourselves in the summer-house, and had had time to compose our excited feelings, so that we could view the surrounding scenery with some degree of calmness, we perceived that, when the sun shone, a beantiful iris was playing over this "gulf of terror." On the rocks near the fall, there is a rich verdure, which is kept in perpetual bloom by the spray that is continually descending. The colour of the foliage is very bright; and no language can describe the effect produced by the combination of tints, in connexion with the iris, when seen from the window of the summerhouse. To say that it is sublime scarcely conveys a proper idea of it.

A path leads down to the valley; and when you arrive at the bottom, the scene before you is, in the fullest sense of the expression, magnificently grand. "I saw the cascata del marmore' of Terni, twice," says Byron, at different periods; once from the summit of the precipice, and again from the valley below. The lower view is far to be preferred, if the traveller has time for one only; but, in any point of view, either from above or below, it is worth all the cascades and torrents of Switzerland put together. The Staubbach, Reichenbach, Pisse-Vache, fall of Arpenaz, are rills in comparative appearance."

The roar of waters!-from the headlong height,
Velino cleaves the wave-worn precipice;

The fall of waters!-rapid as the light,

The flashing mass foams, shaking the abyss;

The hell of waters!-where they howl and hiss,

And boil in endless torture; while the sweat
Of their great agony, wrung out from this
Their Phlegethon, curls round the rocks of jet
That gird the gulf around, in pitiless horror set,

And mounts in spray the skies, and thence again
Returns in an unceasing shower, which round,
With its unemptied cloud of gentle rain,

Is an eternal April to the ground,

Making it all one emerald :-how profound
The gulf!-and how the giant element

From rock to rock leaps with delirious bound,
Crushing the cliffs, which, downward worn and rent
With his fierce footsteps, yield in chasms a fearful vent,

To the broad column which rolls on, and shows

More like the fountain of an infant sea

Torn from the womb of mountains by the throes
Of a new world, than only thus to be
Parent of rivers, which flow gushingly,

With many windings, through the vale:-Look back!
Lo! where it comes, like an eternity,

As if to sweep down all things in its track,
Charming the eye with dread,-a matchless cataract,

Horribly beautiful!-but on the verge,

From side to side, beneath the glittering morn,

An Iris sits, amidst the infernal surge,

Like Hope upon a death-bed, and, unworn

Its steady dyes, while all around is torn

By the distracted waters, bears serene

Its brilliant hues with all their beams unshorn:
Resembling, 'mid the torture of the scene,

Love watching Madness with unalterable mien.

After we quitted Terni, our road lay occasionally upon bigh ground, which gave us extensive views of the winding Tiber; and, as we advanced, the scenery often changed from highly cultivated grounds to the wild scenes of nature.

Before we reached Borghetto, we crossed the Tiber, over a fine bridge built by Augustus; and, on approaching Civita Castellana, we came to a deep ravine, through which runs one of the tributary streams of the Tiber. The ravine is crossed by a very high bridge; and the

effect of looking from the height of the bridge into the depth below, is such as to make the traveller shudder as if he were in some dangerous situation.

After leaving Civita Castellana we passed through several villages, and over many hills which were not cultivated. We enjoyed the prospects very much; and the rugged forms of the trees and shrubs formed beauti. ful contrasts, in the autumnal tints. Before we left Baccano, the monks who had taken outside places, were kind enough to allow us to exchange seats with them, that we might enjoy the scenery of the Campagna. About eight o'clock in the morning we came to some high ground; and there we saw, for the first time, the object of our desires, the dome of St. Peter's. The sight caused me to indulge in a train of reflections of the most exhilarating description. I was about to enjoy the sight of works of art performed by men who possessed first-rate powers, and whose labours had been stamped with the unqualified approbation of ages. I was about to behold, and to examine, works finished upon principles which I was desirous to understand, and executed in a style which I was anxious to attain.

From the transparency of the Italian atmosphere, the city appeared nearer to us than we found it; as we still had to ride for many hours before we entered its walls.

As we approached the city, we found the country better cultivated, and more thickly studded with dwellings; but the villas which we passed had not so imposing an appearance as those which we had seen in the vicinity of other cities, and many of them seemed to be unoccupied.

We entered "the great queen of earth, imperial Rome," by the Porta del Populo, about three o'clock on Saturday afternoon,-having set out from Florence on Monday morning. We generally stopped, for the night, about six o'clock; and we were on our way again at four the following morning.

The moment you pass through the city-gate, an obelisk, with a fountain at its base, faces you. Three streets radiate from this point; that in the centre, the

Strada del Corso, leads direct to the Capitol; that on the right, the Strada di Ripetta, leads to the Tiber; and that on the left, the Strada del Babuino, leads to the Piazza di Spagna. In front of these streets are the Churches of St. Maria di Monte Sante and St. Maria di Maracoli. These objects make a very fine entrance to the imperial city.

I am, Dear Sir, yours truly,

J. H.

LETTER X.

ROME.-ST. PETER'S; THE EGYPTIAN OBELISK; FOUNTAINS; HISTORY OF ST. PETER'S; THE INTERIOR; VISIT TO THE DOME.-THE BORGHESE PALACE AND ITS PAINTINGS.-FUNERAL OF THE PRINCESS BORGHESE.-THE PALAZZO SPADA AND ITS PAINTINGS.

To the Editor of the Halifax Express.

Rome, Nov. 7, 1840.

Dear Sir,-My last letter informed you of our arrival in this city, on the afternoon of Saturday, the 24th ult. After we had dined, we went to the Caffé Greco, where the English artists generally meet in the evening; and I saw several with whom I had become acquainted while I was in Paris. The readiness with which they answered our inquiries, and assisted us in procuring apartments, was very gratifying, and I shall ever remember it with pleasure.

The next morning, being Sunday, we went to St. Peter's. As we approached that celebrated structure, we much admired the circular colonnade, which is very grand, and is considered the finest of Bernini's works. It is composed of four rows of columns; each column being forty feet high, and five feet in diameter. These columns support the entablature, which is surmounted with 192 statues; each statue being eleven feet high. The area of this front is 728 feet in length, and 606 feet in breadth.

In the centre of this area, is placed the celebrated Egyptian obelisk, which once adorned the centre of the

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