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    LETTER FB.OM ITALY.

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    for this purpose , and the ingenious savages are said to be able to produce virgin wet nurses at will . Two French chemists , MM . Datajine and OiEARD . havediseovered thatperfectly dry sulphuretted hydrogen does not act upon silver . They found that , under such conditions , silver leaves may be suspended in the gas without suffering any change . . . A question of much interest to us as a naval people has been started by the assertion that iron nails or bolts promote the decay of wooden ships . The theory , which is supported by some experiments ^ is that the iron becomes peroxidized by exposure to air and moisture ; then parts with a portion of its oxygen to the wood , which is slowly destroyed ; takes another dose of oxygen from the air , and rts with it in turn . / ¦'¦ - ¦ . t

    pa , ,, . * . . In the way of apparatus , a most valuable instrument has been produced and patented by Messrs . Geiitin . It is a gas furnace , built up of suitable pieces of fire-clay , and constructed so that a blast of air is conveyed into the centre of each jet of gas at the moment of combustion . The effect produced is quite wonderful , —a small furnace fnsing a pound and a half of cast iron in twenty minutes . Mr . Gbiffik has an ingenious contrivance for preventing loss of heat through the flue , which is descending , and filled with small pebbles through whose interstices sufficient ventilation takes place , while the pebbles themselves absorb a large portion of the calorie . ,

    Among miscellaneous news we may mention that a rieh vein of platina has been found in Frederickstown , United States , by Dr , Koch ; and that M . Payest has disgusted the epicures of Paris , by telling them that their favourite delicacy , the edible birdsnests , consists chiefly of a peculiar spittle secreted by the Salangane swallow .

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    ( special . ) Rome ,. 14 th January , 1860 . M Y first recollections of Rome date from too long ago , and from too early an age , for me to be able to recall the impression Caused by its first aspect . It is hard indeed for any one * at any time , to judge of Rome fairly . Whatever may be the object of our pilgrimage—whether art , or religion , or history—we Roman travellers are all , under some guise or other , pilgrims to the Eternal City , aild look with a pilgrim ' s reverence upon the shrinfe of our worship . The ground we tread on is enchanted ground , we breathe a charmed air , and are spell-bound with a strange witchery . A kind of glamour steals over us ,- a thousand memories rise up and chase each other . Heroes and martyrs , sages and saints , consuls ^ and popes and emperorspeople the weird pageant , which to our mind ' s

    , eye hovers ever mistily amidst the scenes around us . Here ; above all places in God ' s earth , it is hard to forget the past and think only of the present . This , however , is what I now want to do . Laying aside all thought of what Rome has been , I would fain describe what Rome is now . Thus , in my solitary wanderings about the city I have often sought to picture to / myself the feelings of a stranger who , caring nothing and knowing nothing of the past , should enter Rome with only that listless curiosity which all travellers feel perforce , when for the first time they approach a great capital . Let me fancy that such a traveller , in the person of my reader—a very Gallio among travellers—is standing by my side , Let me try and tell him what , under my Mentorship , he would mark and see .

    It shall pot be on a bright cloudless day that we enter Rome . To our northern eyes the rich Italian sunlight gives to everything , even to ruins and rags and squalor , a deceptive glory and a beauty which is not due . No , the day shall be such a day as that on winch I write—such a day , in fact , as the days are ofteherthan not at this dead season of the year—sunless and damp and dull . The sky above and the hills around are shrouded with grey unbroken clouds . It matters little by what gate or from what quarter we enter . On every side the scene is much the sqrne . The Campagna surrounds the city . A wide , waste , broken , hillock-covered plain , half common , half paBture-land , and altogether desolate . A few stunted trees—a deserted house or two ^—here and there a crumbling mass of shapeless brickwork : such is the foreground through which you travel

    for many a weary mile . As you approach the city there is no change in the , desolation , no sign of life . . Every , now and then a string of some half-dozen peasant carts , loaded "with wine barrels or wood faggots , comes jingling by . The carts , so called rather by courtesy than right , consist of three rough planks and two high ricketty wheels . The broken-kneed horses sway to and fro beneath . their unwieldy loads , and the drivers , clnd in rough sheepskin cloaks , crouch sleepily upon ihe shafts . A solitary cart is rare , for the neighbourhood of Rome is not the safest of places , and ^ hose small piles of . stones with the wooden cross surmounting 1 them witness to the fact that a murder took place , not long ago , on the , very spot you 1

    are passingnow . Then , perhaps , you pass a drove ot wild shaggy buffaloes ,. or a travelling carriage rattling and jolting along , or a stray priest or so , trudging homewards from some outlying chapel . That red-bodied , funereal . looking two-horse coach , crawling at a snail ' s pace , belqnga to his Excellency the Cardinal , whom you can see a little further on , pottering feebly along the rond in his violet stockings , supported by his clerical seorotary , and followed at a respectful distance by his two attendant priests . A $ last , out of fcho dreary , waate , at ) the end of the ill paved , sloughy , road , the Jong 1 ljne of tumbledown walla rises gloomily , A few cannon-shot would batter a broach anywhere . However , at Rome there is noifchor commerce to impede nor building extension of any hind to chock ;

    the [ city has shrunk up , until its precincts are a world too wide ' and the walls , if they are useless , are harmless also—more , by the way , than you can say for most things here * There is no stir or bustle at the gates . Two French soldiers striding across a bench are playing at piquet with a pack of greasy cards . A packhorse or two nibble the blades of grass between the stones , while their owners haggle . with the' solidary guard about the " octroi' * duties . A sentinel on duty stares listlessly at you as'you pass , and you stand within the walls of Rome . You are coming , shall I say from Ostia , and enter therefore by the Porta San Paolo — - the gate where legends tell that Belisarius sat and begged . I have chosen this one out of the score of entrances as recalling fewest of past memories , and leading to the heart of the living , working city . You stand , then , within Rome , and look round in vain for the signs of a city . Hard by , a knot of dark cypress trees waves above the lonely burialrground where Shelley lies at rest . A long ; straight , pollard-lined road stretches before you , between high walls , into the grey distance . Low hills or mounds rise on either side , covered by stunted straggling- vineyards . You pass on . A beggar , squatting by the roadside , calls on you for charity ; and long after you have passed you can hear the mumbling , droning cry , " Per l ' amore di Dio e della Santa Vergine !" dying in your ears . On the wall , from time to time , you see a rude painting of Christ upon the Cross , and an inscription above a slit beneath bids you contribute alms for the souls in purgatory . A peasant woman , perhaps , is kneeling before the shrine , and a troop of priests pass by on the other side , A string of carts again , drawn by bullocks , another shrine and another group of priests , and you are at the river side . The dull muddy Tiber rolls beneath you ,- and in front , that shapeless mass of dingy , weather-stained , discoloured , plaster-covered , tile-roofed buildings , crowded and jammed together on either side the river , is Rome itself . You are at the city ' s portthe " Ripetta , " or quay of Rome . In the stream there are a dozen vessels ; something between barges and coasting smacks , the largest possibly of fifty tons burden . There is a Gravesend-looking steamer , too , lying off the quay , but she belongs to the French Government , and is only employed in carrying troops to and from Civita Vecchia . At this point all traffic on the Tiber ceases . Though . the fiver js navigable for a long distance above Rome , there is not a boat to be seen above the bridge now in sight . A few steps more , and the walls on either side-are replaced by houses , and the city has begun . The houses do not mprove on closer acquaintance . One and all look as if , commenced on too grand a scale , they had ruined their builders before their completion , had then been left standing empty for years , and-were now occupied by tenants too poor to keep them from decay . There are holes in the walls where the scaffolding : was fixed ; large blotches where the plaster has peeled away , yS toncs and cornices , which have been left unused , lie . in the mud before the doors . From the window sills , and on ropes fastened across < he street , flutter half-washed rags and strange apparel . The height ot the houses makes the narrow streets gloomy , even at mid-day . At night , save in a few ma in thoroughfares , there is no light of any kind ; but then at Rome nobody cares much about walking , in outof-the-way places , after dark . The streets are paved with the most slippery and angular of stones , placed herring-bone fashion , with ups and downs in every direction . Foot-pavement there is none ; and the ricketty carriages drawn by the tottering horses come swaying round the endless corners with an utter disregard for the limbs and lives of the foot-folk . You are out of luck if you come to Rome on a " festa" day , for then all the shops are shut . However , even here the chances are two to one , or somewhat more , in favour of the day ot your arrival being a working day . When the shops are open there is at any rate life enough of one kind or other . In most parts the shops have no window fronts . Glass . indeed , there is little of any sort , and the very name of plate-glass is unknown . The dark , gloomy shops , varying in look between a coach-house and a winevault , have their wide shufcteivdoors flung- open to the street . A feeble lamp , hung at the back of every shop you pass before a painted Madonna shrine , makes the darkness of their interiors visible . 1 he trades of Rome are primitive , and few in number . Those dismembered , disembowelled carcases , suspended in every variety of posture , denote the butcher's shop : not the pleasantest of sights at liny tune , least of all in Rome , where the custom of washing the meat after lulling' it seems never to have been introduced . Next door , too , is » stable , crowded with mules and horses . Those black , mouldy loaves , exposed in a wirework cage to protect them from the clutches of the hungry street vagabonds , stand in i ' ront of the baker ' s , where the price of bread is regulated by the pontifical tariff . Then comes the"Spaceio di Vino , " that most gloomy among the shnnos of Bacchus , where the sour red wine is drunk at dirty tables by the gr imiest of tipplers . Hard by is the • ?• Stannaro , " or hard ware tinker , who is always rebottoming dilapidated pans , and drives a brisk trade in those clumsy , murderous-looking knives . Further ou is the greengrocer , with the long strings of greens , and sausages , and flabby balls of cheese , and straw-covered oil-flasks dangling >« festoons before his door . Over the way is the Government depOb , where the coarsest of ealfc and the . rankest of tobacco tire sold afc monopoly prices . Those gay , particoloured stripes of paper , inscribed with the cabalistic figures , flaunting at the street corner , proa mm the ' " Prenditovia doi Lotti , " or office of the Papal Lottery , where gambling receives the sanction of thp Church—and prospers under clerical auspices to such an extent , that , in the pity of lWne alone , with a , population under two hundred thousand , fifty- lye millions ot lottery tickets are said to bo tukfan . annually . Cobbler * and enrpentors , burbot a » d old-clothesmen , seem to mo to ; ouirry J ?» r trades much in the same way all the world over . 'ilio necul . aiity

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    3 * an . 21 , I 860 . ] The I + eader andJSatti ? dayi Analyst \ 71

    Letter Fb.Om Italy.

    LETTER FB . OM ITALY .

• Citation
  • Leader (1850-1860), Jan. 21, 1860, page 71, in the Nineteenth-Century Serials Edition (2008; 2018) ncse-os.kdl.kcl.ac.uk/periodicals/l/issues/vm2-ncseproduct2330/page/19/