If you believe a Neapolitan, in bargaining with him you have to do with the honestest fellow in the world, though he candidly confesses his countrymen are rather apt to be roguishly inclined. On my application to a vetturino to take me to Rome, he demanded 13 piastres, (58s. 6d.) and told me he must be four days and a half on the road. I offered him 10; (9 is the usual sum, but I have known it done for 7½, besides the buona mano) he replied, that he was not like other Italians, but always treated with German sincerity. I then applied at the office of the government courier, where I found that the fare to Terracina was nine ducats. (33s. 9d.) They could make no agreement beyond, but observed that the courier himself would perhaps make such an engagement. The courier assured me that the office place was taken; that he must submit to great inconvenience in giving up his own place to accommodate me; that he was totally incapable of a lie, or of taking any advantage of travellers, and that he could do nothing for me under 22 piastres. (4l. 19s.) Terracina is more than half-way, and I therefore went back to the office and secured the office place, which in spite of the asseverations of my man of honour, was not taken. The courier’s vettura will carry four persons, two of whom are sheltered above and on the sides; the other two are entirely exposed. We set out at two o’clock on the 27th, and I believe he felt a little ashamed in meeting me as the only passenger. Perhaps it was in consequence of this feeling, that when we were hardly out of Naples, he stopt at a wine-house, and repeated his calls so frequently, as to get completely drunk. After sickness and sleep had relieved him, a worse misfortune occurred, for, deceived I believe by the doubtful light of the moon, the postillion drove over a bank and overturned us. Nobody was materially hurt, but I bruised my head, and the carriage was much broken, which contributed to the discomfort of the rest of the journey. “O mamma mia, mamma mia,” exclaimed the poor post-boy, “Sarà la rovina di casa mia. O mamma mia!” He did not however confine himself to lamentations, but exerted himself strenuously to raise the carriage, and the bodily exertion seemed to be necessary to allay his mental feelings. We sent off a boy who had attended us, I know not why, in one direction, and the soldier who escorted us in another. We had struck a light, and set the vehicle on its wheels again before any assistance arrived, but we were not able of ourselves to replace it in the road: four soldiers at last came, and we found ourselves once more in a condition to proceed. The post-boy offered to the soldiers twenty-five grains, which he said was all he had. They were refused with so good a grace, and with such expressions of good-will, that I was vexed to find the refusal a mere trap to get more. After all, as they had come two miles in the night; the recompense was not at all in proportion to the trouble, or the occasion.

We arrived at Terracina about nine o’clock in the morning, and I had to wait there for the Roman courier till four in the afternoon, which gave me an opportunity of visiting the remains of Anxur. I had on a former occasion walked through the present town,^[42] which stands a little out of the road, and therefore leaving it on the left, kept up the high and rocky hill, which is considered to have been the situation of the ancient city. There is a great extent of wall remaining, all of opus incertum and early rubble-work. The gateway by which I entered appears to have been finished in an arch, but all the vaulting stones are gone. The walls are flanked by semicircular towers, which seem in the lower part to have been solid masses, at least I could discover no appearance of an opening. There are one or two ruined tombs near the summit of the hill, and various fragments of walls, but the largest remaining antiquity is a fine gallery of thirteen arches, and as many rooms opening into it, usually called the palace of Theodoric; and as it is known that he sometimes resided here, such a destination is not improbable; but the existing portion so strongly resembles the substructions so frequently met with of Roman villas, that I am tempted to attribute to it an earlier origin. There is likewise a smaller edifice, exhibiting the same general disposition, but parts of it are certainly of later date. On the stucco of this are traces of paintings of the heads of saints; and it probably has been at one time part of a monastery.

From the top of this hill there is a magnificent view. Some of the mountains on the north-east were covered with snow. They appeared to me less distant than the island of Ischia, and must be the Monte Agatone of Orgiazzi’s map of Italy, lying near the lake of Celano; but it was snow of this season, not perennial.

Returning to the inn, I at length found the Roman courier, and learnt that the fare to Rome was ten scudi; forty-five shillings for sixty miles seemed a very high price, and I suspected that the fare from Rome to Terracina must be considerably less, but I had no alternative. We arrived at Rome about four o’clock in the morning, and for some hours I could find no shelter for my head but in a coffee-room, some of which are open all night.

On revisiting Rome I determined to make a trial to find some letters which I had heard of, but which never reached me. On inquiry I found, that after three months’ probation in the office, all letters directed, not only to Rome, but to all cities in the Roman states, are deposited in an upper chamber. I readily got admission, and was left with one clerk to hunt as long as I pleased. I calculated, on counting those of one box which I looked over, and comparing it with what I saw around me, that there could not be less than 200,000 letters in this room. Being deposited in succession every month, a slight degree of arrangement dependant on the date was observable, but this seemed mere accident. We looked over about 5000, amongst which, I found two to myself; one of May, 1817, and one of August, 1818.

My present residence at Rome is almost as unfavourable for providing materials for letters as a residence in London would be. I am entering into numerous little details either of construction or ornament, reading what I can procure of Roman antiquities, sometimes drawing, sometimes merely noting what I have observed; employments carrying little or no interest except to an architect or antiquary; and indeed an architect at Rome can hardly escape something of the latter character. Some things I had seen very imperfectly on my former residence; a few others in the neighbourhood I had not visited at all.^[43] My society is almost exclusively English, and I see but little of them. There is one exception; I have made acquaintance with a young Italian student in architecture, with whom I am much pleased, and who spends a great deal of time with me. We have been to Tivoli together, but even there I do not find any thing new which would interest you, though, if there were the same sort of pleasure in turning to description, as there is in revisiting these beautiful scenes, you would never be tired of it. Sometimes I go to a play; but whether I am grown more fastidious, or that the theatres are really not so well provided as they were in a former year, they do not attract me much. Sometimes I attend a preaching. The Padre Pacifico has the reputation of being the best preacher now in Rome, and he is certainly a very eloquent man. The most common fault of the Italian preachers is, that they strive too hard to be pathetic; but there is of course less of this in their best preachers, than in those of inferior merit. Followers generally caricature their leader. We may observe too, both in the theatres and the pulpit, that the best performers have the least of that peculiar chant which belongs to the Italian language, and which in England I have heard admired as one of its great excellences. On one occasion I listened to a Capuchin preaching in the Coliseum; his subject was a comparison between the Virgin Mary, and the river Jordan; which descends from Lebanon, as the virgin descended from heaven; and he added a great deal of stuff, which you would not thank me for remembering. I asked one of the more respectable clergy why such conduct was permitted? and he pleaded that it was necessary to please the lower classes with nonsense, as hogs are fed with garbage. To amuse and to cheat the people has been too often the endeavour of those who think themselves called to rule the world; but if they vitiate the taste of the multitude by furnishing them with unwholesome food, it is the fault of the teachers, not of the people, if the latter lose their relish for plain and salutary truths; and this argument seems to come with a very bad grace from the Roman Catholic clergy. The watchfulness over the press, and the refusal of the scriptures to the people, can only be defended on the plea of refusing to them, not only every thing but good and wholesome food, but all such as they can by any means misdigest, if I may coin a word, and continue my metaphor. Particular truths may be hurtful at certain times, general ones are good at all times; and he who imagines that the multitude is incapable of understanding the principles which guide his own conduct, has either mistaken his way, or is led by vanity to attribute to himself a superiority over his fellow-creatures which he does not possess.

On another occasion I heard a priest catechizing some children in the same place. Among other things he questioned them as to how many sorts of sin there were, and how many sorts of repentance. The children certainly understood neither question nor answer. All that they could learn was, when their teacher pronounced one set of syllables, to reply in another set furnished for them; and fortunate that it was so. What should they learn, but that all sin is displeasing to God, and that a deep and heartfelt sorrow, accompanied with earnest desires to do better in future, is the only true repentance? To attempt to make them nice casuists is certainly not the way to make them honest men.

Canova has done me the honour to consult me about a church which he is going to build at Posanio in the Venetian states, his native place. It is to consist of a dome 90 feet in diameter, with a portico copied from the Parthenon. I doubt if the parts will harmonize well, but as that was already decided, I contented myself with suggesting a few minor alterations, which will not be adopted. I inquired of the architect how much it would cost. He said that he could not tell how much it would cost at Posanio, where the stone was at hand, and where the peasantry would probably assist considerably, without compensation; but that in Rome such a building could not be executed for less than 250,000 crowns. It is a noble thing for such a man as Canova to lay out his money in public edifices, and it is very pleasing to contemplate the willingness of the peasantry to assist in a useful work, where their parts are likely soon to be forgotten. In England it is difficult to find people who will play the second fiddle at their own expense, since all the honour and praise go to the leader.

We have had a scheme for dragging the Tiber, which is a most palpable job; yet I meet persons eager about it, who are not at all likely to have any share of the profits. I have just made a calculation, that if the expenses amount to 33,000 crowns, which is the proposed sum; and the value of the objects found to 72,576 crowns, which seems quite as much as can reasonably be expected; then the Pope, who contributes nothing, would claim to the value of 27,216; the director or superintendent would receive for his services 12,360; and the subscribers would receive their money back again, losing nothing but the interest for two years.

The fêtes here in honour of the emperor are very splendid, and the illumination of St. Peter’s finer than any thing I had been able to imagine, in spite of all the descriptions I had heard of it. All the leading lines of the architecture were marked with lamps, which appeared very brilliant, and from the great extent of the edifice, superior to any thing I had before seen. Suddenly at one hour of the night, i. e. about an hour and a quarter after sunset, the sudden inflammation of all the greater lamps, or lampioni, almost made it doubtful if the previous illumination had existed. The operation of lighting these lampioni over the whole building did not occupy three minutes. It is said that above six hundred men are employed for the purpose, and the effect is quite magical. After this, came the fireworks at Castle St. Angelo. A flight of 4,500 rockets (and very fine rockets) made a complete canopy of fire. You may suppose that a circular building, near 200 feet in diameter, rising on a large, square basement, and standing entirely detached, is an admirable place for such an exhibition; and every advantage is made of the situation.

Another night we had a festival, with illuminations and fireworks at the Capitol, at the same hour of the evening; the effect was superb. What pleased me best was a fountain of fire, which seemed to rise with the rushing force of a Chinese gerb from the centre of a bason, and fell copiously over its circumference in the softer fire of the Roman candle. Inside, the rooms were hung with white and coloured draperies, ornamented with gold stars. The emperor may I think be satisfied with his reception from the government, but I do not know whether he will like that from the people, who seem to behold him at best with great indifference. I am told they are displeased with him for having given up the title of Roman emperor, a whimsical source of discontent. His manners are merely negative; not haughty and distant, but at the same time without any thing gracious or prepossessing.