137 ANCIENT TIBUR "God made the country, and man made the town." CowPER. In these days of wealth and wandering, many of our readers may have visited the "Eternal City"-a designation which, when applied to any work of human hands, is quite inapplicable, as the object is sure to fall immeasurably short of the inconceivable extent of the duration of time, implied by the term. Rome, however, since the days of Romulus, has, either in fable or fact, had an existence of some kind or another; and, at the distance of about nineteen miles to the north-east of it, the ancient Tibur is still to be found, rejoicing in the more euphonious name of Tivoli. The scenery around this town is still redolent of great beauty. Its groves are even now possessed of all the freshness of youth; its caverns are as dark, and its cascades as wild, as ever; whilst its ruins, crumbling into dust, recall the days that are gone, and must vividly impress the contemplative minds of those who may muse in their presence, that they, at least, are not likely to be "eternal." Tivoli forms a bold eminence in the tract of country known as the Campagna; and is the terminating point of a spur of the Apennines, with which it is connected by the Sabine Hills. The suddenness with which it seems to rise is marked by a succession of cliffy heights, which break and divide the waters of the Teverone, which has its sources among a cluster of lakes in the Apennines, and which, in antiquity, is known as the Anio. It is the numerous cascades formed by this river that render the scenery of Tivoli so beautiful and picturesque; but after it has entirely escaped from the impediments with which the earlier part of its course is interrupted, it assumes a gentle aspect, flowing between two shady hills, until it reaches the termination of the high ground at Tivoli, when it precipitates itself headlong into the plain below. Overlooking it stands the modern town, occupying portions of both of its banks; whilst afar off, to the north and east, appear, swelling up to the skies, the mountains of the Sabine country. To the south we see the heights of Frascati, bounding a portion of the plain; and to the west, as far as the eye can reach, it sees the silvery windings of the Teverone, until the more elevated structures of the great city itself shoot upwards, and arrest it in the distance. Magnificent scene! How long is it to last? Shall future generations, still at this distance, gaze upon the buildings of that "Eternal City," and call us ancients, as we do those who built them? Shall this be, and we have no existence? "Can it be? Matter immortal? and shall spirit die? Less privileg'd than grain, on which he feeds?' No, no; the divinity we feel within us gives a conclusive answer to these questions. We feel, as Addison says, that heaven itself points out an hereafter "And intimates eternity to man." Passing along the road from Rome to Tivoli, the English traveller has, no doubt, been struck with the remarkably devout appearance which pilgrims before the cross occasionally present; and it is, in our opinion, a beautiful trait of the human mind to see it, as it were, forcing the Catholic to bend the knee in acknowledgment of the goodness of the Creator, who gave up to suffering his only-begotten Son, for the transgression of those laws which, in duty and humility, ought to be carefully observed. This road passes through one of the most dreary wastes with which the Eternal City is, on all sides, surrounded; and imparts to it the character of the melancholy sublime, with which every one whose feelings are liable to take a colouring from the scenes with which they are encompassed, must have experienced in this portion of the country. After several times crossing and re-crossing, by Roman bridges, the Teverone, the pilgrim arrives, say within three miles of the town to which his steps are directed. Here he beholds what may be, to him, one of the most interesting objects which his journey could have brought before him. This is the monument of the Plautian family, who, in the later days of the Republic, were much distinguished, and whose monument here must recall to the classical student many reminiscences of ancient times. The villa of Hadrian, or rather its remains, lie to the right, in a narrow by-way but we will leave it to the elements which are working its silent destruction, and proceed through the olive groves which adorn the southern declivities of the steeps that lead up to the town of Tivoli. Arrived here, the first object that attracts attention is a dilapidated circular temple, which, like a beautiful artificial capitol placed on the top of a rude natural column of rock, stands on the summit of a precipice, and almost overhangs the living boundings of the great cascade. Connected with this little ruin there is a short anecdote of interest. It is supposed by some to have been built and assigned to the goddess Vesta; but others have handed it over to the Sibyl, who held her dominion in the neighbouring woods. Be this as it may, when we last heard of it, it occupied an undignified site in a yard at the back of the Sibilla Inn. How is the beautiful in art dishonoured in these days of practical goldgetting! It then consisted of ten Corinthian pillars, above which rose the entablature originally sustained by eighteen. The manner in which the ruins of this temple harmonise with the surrounding scenery, forms such a scene of picturesque beauty that the eye seems never to tire in gazing upon it. The admiration which it excited in an English nobleman prompted him to purchase it from the inn-keeper, into whose hands it had fallen, intending to have it transported to his own park in England; but as the owner was about to take it to pieces, an order arrived from the Papal government at once annulling the sale, and prohibiting its removal. It is said that a correct notion of this temple may be formed by observing the north-west corner of the Bank of England, where both its entablature and columns have been closely imitated, as well as a portion of its circular form adopted. Ruins, about which there are doubts as to what they were in their perfect state, are always, more or less, unsatisfactory to the mind of the admiring beholder; but the memorable associations of a celebrated locality are always interesting. The proximity of Tivoli to Rome, the fertility and beauty of the situation in which it was placed, united to the salubrity of its atmosphere, all conspired to make it an agreeable retreat to those who were weary of the capital, and who were often harassed with the cares which the affairs of the state necessarily imposed upon them. The numerous architectural remains, which are still to be seen in its neighbourhood, are an ample testimony to the truth of its having been the resort of many of the noblest in Rome; and tradition still indicates the spot where, it is said, stood the palace of the famed Mæcenas, the patron of genius and learning, as well as the sage counsellor of Augustus. The remains of villas are, even to this day, pointed out, as having, in the days of their pristine glory and perfection, had connection with the names. of Brutus and Cassius; the Pisos, Varus, and Lepidus. Here Hadrian, as we have already said, had his celebrated villa; and other great men, whose names have been lost to us in the stream of time, no doubt, had their elegant retreats on some of the hills among the groves and cascades of Tivoli. Of the great size of Hadrian's palace, some idea may be formed from the brief descriptions given of its ruins by different writers. Of these, Mr. Woods says-" The extent is immense. We walked for above a mile among arches, great semi-domed recesses, long walls and corridors, and spacious courts; through an immense number of small apartments and large halls." Mr. Forsyth thus pours a sort of descriptive lamentation over them:-" Baths, academies, porticoes, a library, a palæstra (the place for athletic exercises), a hippodrome (the place for equestrian performances), a menagerie (the place for keeping wild animals), a naumiachia (a place for the representation of sea-fights), an aqueduct, theatres, both Greek and Latin, temples for different rites, every appurtenance suitable to an imperial seat, opened before me: but its magnificence gone; it has passed to the Vatican; it is scattered over Italy; it may be traced in France. Anywhere but at Tivoli may you look for the statues and caryatides, the columns, the Oriental marbles, and the mosaics, with which this villa was once adorned or supported, or wainscoted or floored." The circumstances which, with the usual assistance of Time's ravages, have helped to produce this ruin, are summed up in "Hadrian's invidious successors, who either neglected or furnished it; the Goths, who sacked it; the masons of the dark ages, who pounded its marbles into cement; and antiquarian popes and cardinals, who dug into its concealed apartments only to plunder them." is un Tivoli possesses several churches, and a cathedral; some of them, in all probability, occupying the sites of ancient temples: but the town, as a whole, is dirty in the extreme. Besides, it has a mean appearance, and offers a wonderful contrast to the magnificence of the scenery in which it stands. Taken, however, with its accessories, it would seem to help to the general effect of an extremely beautiful, if not altogether a sublime, scene from some points of view. Thus, looking upwards from the lower parts of the stream, which forms the great cascade, Mr. Woods says-" You see the temple, the city, the rocks, the falls, combined in the most magical manner. It is a scene, however, which it is difficult to characterise. It might be called sublime, if the objects of beauty were not so numerous; and if its sublimity and beauty were less impressive, you would pronounce it the most picturesque view you ever beheld." The city, which here forms a part of the picture, is small, mostly composed of filthy streets and diminutive houses, with an occasional villa standing up among them. Of the exact number of its population we are not aware-perhaps about eight or ten thousand; but at a very early period its inhabitants embraced the Christian religion. There is a traditionary legend told by Baronius, the annalist, which assigns their conversion to the time of the Emperor Decius, and which seems to us to be impressed with the romance of the Tivolian situation. A young lady, named Victoria, and of noble extraction, was desired by an angel to consecrate herself to heaven; but as she had been betrothed to a young patrician, he seems not to have relished the idea of losing her in such a manner, and, therefore, would not allow her to obey a command which she herself considered as divine. She, however, persisted in a determination she had formed of obeying the angel, when she was forthwith sent to Tivoli, where she was to be confined until she should abandon all thoughts of such a design. This seems to have been in the age of dragons; and one of these hideous monsters infested the neighbourhood of the town, filling its inhabitants with terror, and the surrounding country with destruction. Victoria became acquainted with the dreadful nature of the calamity by which the people of Tibur (as Tivoli was then called) suffered, and promised that she would relieve them of it if they would adopt the Christian religion. This they agreed to do. She accordingly proceeded against the dragon, and killed it. The inhabitants immediately fulfilled their promise; and, among the converts, Baronius places Zenobia, the captive Queen of Palmyra, who, after adorning the triumph of the Emperor Aurelian, had a residence assigned her in the beautiful region in which Tivoli stands. Like many other towns, the market-place of Tivoli is that in which, on busy days, appears the most motley assemblages of the population. It is here that the most striking contrasts of character are usually found; and here where that Italian public favourite frequently exhibits those peculiarities for which he has long been famed, and for the indulgence of which he possesses an almost unlimited license: this being is known in England as Punch, but in Italy as Pulcinello. As he is a native of that country, there is little or no resemblance between him and the grotesque buffoon we gaze upon performing his feats at the corners of our streets. Even in the theatres of Italy he is introduced almost into every farce, performing a similar part to that assigned to Vice, or the Fool, in our ancient moralities He is a Neapolitan by birth; and Mr. Forsyth says, that he is, among his countrymen, a person of real power. "He dresses up and retails all the drolleries of the day; he is the channel, and sometimes the source, of the passing opinions; he can inflict ridicule; he could gain a mob, or keep the whole kingdom in good-humour." He is always dressed in an ample shirt, falling on all sides over the tops of his white |