At my feet are a mass of majestic ruins, at first confused and undefined, but by-and-by the long lines of walls, the turrets and porticos range themselves into symmetry and order, as under the touch of a fairy's wand; and I see the great circus of Romulus stretching in two long parallel lines before me to the length of 892 feet, a mighty enclosure, narrow in breadth, with turreted towers at the extremity near which I stand. Beyond are the walls of another square enclosure, supposed to be the stables of a riding-school connected with the circus, and to have been adorned with a temple. There are the marks of ranges of arches still engraven on the great outer walls, which alone remain.

Above, the ground rises in a gentle swell, planted with vines, and the pale mystic olive-trees, perhaps the most appropriate shade nature ever devised of overshadowing the ruins of the past. On the edge of the hill appears the church of San Sebastiano, rising out of a dark cypress-grove, while among the olives appear no less than three separate temples and porticos, dotting the hill here and there, impressive in their deep decay, lending a richness and variety to this panorama of ruins not to be described; indeed, I know of no scene in or near Rome so satisfying to the mind as this little-frequented spot, where so much still stands to tell of the grandeur of ancient Rome.

Following the line of the hill, beyond the olives and their accompanying vineyards, comes a soft picturesque plantation of feathery elms, standing singly in all their graceful proportions, on the great background of the open Campagna, undulating here in unendless inequalities of rounded hills and gently sloping valleys, spanned by the majestic line of the Claudian aqueduct, marching, as it were, in an ever-advancing procession towards the Eternal City.

Above rise the pale outlines of the mountains and the rounded summits of the Sabine and Alban Hills, now, as the sun is sinking resplendent with delicate shades of pale pink and purple, melting into the blue vault of heaven in the most charming gradations of colour. Here and there a white mass- -Frascati or Tivoli, or the great convent, once the temple of Jupiter Latialis, on the summit of Monte Cavi-catches the lateral rays of the sinking sun, and shines out in dazzling whiteness. There is not a sound to break the harmonious beauty of this lovely scene, or to distract the mind revelling in the suggestive memories of other ages.

I wandered on over the smooth green sward to the rising ground on a level with the great round tomb behind me. Here another ingredient of beauty was added: Rome itself burst on my sight, with its walls and domes, turrets and spires, never more beautiful than when seen from this side, softened by foreground and foliage, with the graceful pile of San Giovanni Laterano crowning the Cœlian Hill with its classic porticos, all backed by the wooded slopes of Monte Mario and the steep Janiculum.

Around me feed an immense flock of sheep, spreading themselves over the classic meadow; a herd-boy, with the brigand-pointed hat and gaycoloured girdle peculiar to Romagna, sat upon a stone and watched the sheep and me. The vast mausoleum frowned down on me, flanked by its turreted walls, erected by the Gaetani in the middle ages, when this solid structure was transformed into a fortress by the family of the ambitious Pope Boniface. These walls have in their turn become ruins,

adding to, rather than detracting from, the dignity of the tomb they enshrine, standing

with half its battlements, alone,

And with two thousand years of ivy grown,

The garland of eternity.

I suppose no one ever

in contemplative musings rapt

visited this monument, the sublimest evidence existing of conjugal regard, without mental questionings in some sort similar to those so gracefully expressed by Byron-to end as did his, in this simple fact-

that Metella died.

The wealthiest Roman's wife
Beheld his love or pride.

The ivy and trailing plants that now diadem the summit of a mausoleum, rivalling in magnificence that of the deified Adrian (now known as the Castle of San Angelo), was fanned by the soft evening breeze; no sound was there to wake the remarkable echo which accurately repeats all sounds entrusted to it, so that when Crassus mourned the loss of "that lady of the dead," the funeral solemnities must have been infinitely multiplied by the endless repetitions of the wailing of the mourners, as if the infernal gods themselves and all the souls in the nether Hades had united in one vast chorus of groans and cries to bewail the deceased Cecilia. Whether it be chance or intention, it is a strange coincidence; but it seems stranger still, that after the lapse of so many ages, the same echo which bore the lamentations for the wife of the Roman senator, "so honoured and conspicuous," should still remain to carry the impertinences of Cockney visitors in this commonplace nineteenth century, who visit these classic precincts with as much indifference as they would stroll out to Hampstead or Clapham Common. That echo, too, must have borne many a rough message in the mediaval days when the tomb-fortress was besieged by that ruthless man, the Connétable de Bourbon, who opened his trenches before the Aurelian wall and the street of tombs as remorselessly as though these venerable remains boasted not a single recollection. Fortunately for me the present was tranquil as the past; silence reigned supreme. Pan and the sylvan fauns and the wood nymphs, who must still guard these lovely spots, where was once their home, alone peopled my solitude, along with the fleecy sheep spreading over the hill.

I had certain pleasant memories, too, of my own connected with the old tomb, anything but sepulchral in their suggestions-recollections of a certain pleasant afternoon spent on this very spot in company with a friend (who indeed deserves that misused name of manifold meaning)— when we came out to watch the sun setting over the domes and spires of distant Rome; but, somehow or other, we did not look at the sun, and cared as little for the tomb. But I was alone now, and had only certain pleasant memories, as I have said, to fill the void; but it would indeed be treason not to recal those happy hours, now, alas! gone, and for

ever!

I descended into the arena of the cireus immediately beneath, through one of the ruined towers flanking its extremity. The interior carpeted with the brightest grass is luxuriant in vegetation; whole gardens of variegated flowers, the wallflower, ivy, and low plants of ilex tufted the ruined walls, clothing their nakedness with the rich colouring of returning spring. A peasant was gathering fennel, and immediately approached, begging me, for the love of heaven "e per le lacrime della Madonna," to assist him, and pointing to the scanty herbs which he had so carefully collected, in order to make into " minestra" or broth; "for," said he, “ are starving in the city, and I am come out here to gather a few herbs, to us most precious."

we

It is from the well-defined remains of this circus, so much more perfect than any similar structure, that antiquarians collect their actual knowledge of the arrangements. It was first called, and supposed to be, the circus of Caracalla, and is so named by the accurate Eustace; but later excavations, carried on by the Duke Bracciano, brother of Torlonia, to whom the ground belongs, prove from inscriptions that it was erected to Romulus, the son of Maxentius, A.D. 311. From its admirable preservation, extreme beauty of position, and the poetry and interest of the ruins around it, this circus may be considered as unique among the remains of ancient Rome. The external walls are almost unbroken; in many places the vault supporting the seats still remains; the foundations of the two obelisks, terminating either extremity of the spina (running lengthways through the circus and forming the goals), still exist; and on one side stands a sort of tower where the judges sat. Near where I entered is a gallery, which contained a band of musicians, flanked by the towers I have mentioned, whence the signal for starting was given.

There were seven ranges of seats, containing upwards of 20,000 spectators, and the extreme length of the circus was 1006 feet. The chariots passed round the spina, and the most fearful accidents constantly occurred from the rapid driving, and the narrowness of the space, and the jostling permitted, as also from the fact of the reins being fastened round the bodies of the charioteers. A large gate is found near the spot where they started, used for the removal of the bodies of those killed in these encounters, as the ancients deemed it a most portentous omen to pass a gate defiled by the passage of a dead body.

I studied the place till my imagination built up the ruins and filled the vast arena with spectators. I fancied the solemn procession advancing before the commencement of the games, headed by the emperor, seated on a superb car. Troops of young boys follow, and escort the charioteers driving the chariots destined for the race, some harnessed with two, some with four, and even six horses. Then come the athletes, almost naked, followed by troops of dancers, consisting of men, youths, and children, habited in scarlet tunics and wearing a short sword and a helmet, ornamented with feathers; they execute war-dances as they advance to the sound of flutes, and harps of ivory, and lutes. Hideous satyrs covered with the skins of animals, overgrown Silenuses, with all kinds of monsters in strange travesties, imitate with various contortions the more dignified dancers which preceded them, seeking to divert the spectators by their extravagance.

Then appear a troop of priests, bearing in their hands vessels of gold and silver containing the incense, perfuming the air as they advance. Their approach is heralded by a band of music. They bear the statues of the gods, who, in honour of the occasion, condescend to leave their temples. Some are borne in splendid cars enriched with precious stones, which sparkle in the sun; others, too sacred for the eyes of the profanum vulgus, are enshrouded in close litters; they are escorted by the patricians, and nobly-born children are proud to hold the bridle of the superb horses that draw them. The procession makes the circuit of the assembly, received with general acclamations, especially on the appearance of an idol particularly venerated by the credulous plebs. The statues are then placed in a temple on cushions of the richest materials. The emperor, descended from his car, makes libations—the earthly Jupiter to his heavenly brother; the games are announced, and the chariots of green, blue, white, and red emerge from the Carceres, and rush on their furious course, as a white cloth, thrown from the imperial gallery, gives the signal to begin.

There is a melancholy charm, a silent though eloquent language of the past interwoven with these ruins (now warmed and tinged by the bright sun into a ruddy brown), inexpressibly enticing. It is a sheltered, sequestered spot to while away the twilight hours, on the soft banks of grass under the shadow of the high walls, and surrender oneself up to fastflitting fancies. Light came over my soul and happiness. I had longed to behold the classic remains of Rome, and behold, coming from the far misty north, I was among them! I seated myself on the capital of a fallen pillar, and gazed on the ruins strewed around among the long grass and waving reeds. They were all to me as holy symbols of the great past, that came whispering from out their crevice-like Memnon pillars strange melodies of other ages, plainly audible to my soul in their lofty utterance. The arches, the pillars, the towers, and the ruined temples peeping out of the olive wood on the hill above, all spoke out plainly their sepulchral language; and the dark cypresses beside the catacomb church whispered also, as the breeze moaned through the heavy branches, like sounds from the holy dead reposing beneath in their stone coffins carved out of the living rock!

I at length reluctantly withdrew through the triumphal arch at the opposite extremity of the circus, through which the victorious charioteer drove amidst the shouts and acclamations of the multitude. That ruined arch now abuts on a road leading to Albano, which I crossed on my way to the fountain of Egeria; but time would not permit me, on that occasion, to proceed further.

NEW MONTHLY MAGAZINE.

THE FOREIGN LEGIONS OF FRANCE.

Ir is not a little curious, at a moment when the national prejudices of the British are roused to the point of ebullition by the proposed levy of a foreign legion, to be quartered in the homes of Old England, and to be drilled in the presence of a vast population ready and anxious to serve their country, if adequately paid and duly cared for, to know that France-so essentially a military and warlike nation-should have been indebted for all its ancient successes in arms, for its first military renown, and even for the personal liberty and safety of its monarchs, to foreigners. Yet such is the case. For centuries after the foundation of the monarchy, the guard of the king's person was solely entrusted to the brave and faithful Caledonians, and the Swiss continued in the same loyal and responsible situation almost till the fall of monarchy itself; while on the field, history is before us* to show, that the adventurers armed for devastation by the feudal barons of old were people of all nations; that among the earliest troops known in France were German lansquenets and ritters-introducers of the pistol; that the most distinguished archers were those of Great Britain; the first cross-bowmen, the Italians; the best irregular cavalry the Spanish carabins and Albanian stradiots; while the credit of the foundation of the existing regimental and infantry system lies entirely with the countrymen of William Tell and Arnold de Melchtal.

France, whose military genius and prowess is indeed incontestable, has had foreign troops in her service during the whole ten centuries which separate Napoleon from Charlemagne. The first on record, and who from their well-tried courage and loyalty were selected as the bodyguard of kings, were the Scotch. This renowned soldiery, whom we shall afterwards see watching by night at the foot of the Castle of Plessis-les-Tours, easily recognisable by their measured tread, their feathered caps, and the wan reflection of their halberds on the walls, and again in the seventeenth century, in the suite of the great king in the pleasant avenues of the garden of Versailles, had already in 886 been enrolled by Charles the Fat as a body-guard of twenty-four gentlemen.

The system of indiscriminate plunder and highway robbery which prevailed in early times, and which scattered strangers and adventurers all over the country, at first repressed by vassalage, commonalty, and citi

* Histoire des Troupes Etrangères au Service de France, depuis leur Origine jusqu'à nos jours, et de tous les Régiments levés dans les Pays Conquis sous la Première République et l'Empire. Par Eugène Fieffé, commis principal aux Archives du Ministère de la Guerre.

Feb.-VOL. CIII. NO. CCCCX.

K