city. This entrance to the city is striking, since it opens into a spacious square, (the Piazza del Popolo,) and presents to you at once the entrance to the Corso, (directly opposite,) and the entrances to the Strada di Ripetta, and the Strada del Babbuino, the three central and principal streets of Rome. The Corso runs in a straight line from the side of the square opposite to the Porta del Popolo; and the other two streets (Ripetta and Babbuino) run diverging on each side of the Corso thus,

The perpendicular line stands

for the Porta del Popolo; the long horizontal line

for the Corso; the line no; and the line

for the Strada del Babbuifor the Strada di Ripetta. Two

handsome churches of similar achitecture, and each having a cupola, stand one on each side of the entrance to the Corso, and form the bottom of the square opposite the Porta del Popolo, and terminate the three streets in a very pleasing manner. In the centre of this square rises a very ancient Egyptian obelisk of red oriental granite, and covered with hieroglyphics; and beside it, towards the Corso, is a fountain. The height of this obelisk is 108 palms, exclusive of the cross on its summit, which is 17 palms, and of the pedestal, &c. 37 palms more, so that it rises, from the ground to the top of the cross, 162 palms. This square is the place where criminals are executed. The guillotine is, I understand, quite the fashion now in Italy. About six weeks or two months ago there was an execution by the guillotine at Florence. The grand duke is of so merciful a disposition, that he is with difficulty persuaded to punish any crime whatever with death;-but I am wandering from Rome. On passing Ponte Molle three bajocchi were demanded from each on account of luggage; and, at the Porta del Popolo, another claim of five bajocchi each was made for the same things. Proceeded to the custom-house to have our luggage searched. We were detained there only about fifteen minutes, during a very superficial inspection of the upper contents of our trunks, night-sacks, &c. Paid again for this examination, 6th March, went to the police office for our letters of permission to remain in Rome. Our passports had been taken from us at the Porta del Popolo on entering, and we had each received in return a certain paper, which we were desired to carry to the police-office within twenty-four hours. For our permission (thirty days) we each paid two Pauls. At Florence nothing was asked for my letter of permission. I must digress a little farther to mention a curious impost, or imposition, which we suffered at Siena. On entering at the one gate, our keys were demanded, in order to be sent to us at the other. For this piece of ceremony we were obliged to pay half a Paul each. In the time of Bonaparte no

custom-house officer in Italy dared to ask a quatrino from travellers, on pain of being instantly dismissed from his place. From the police-office we went to the pantheon of M. Agrippa, on the Piazza della Rotonda, (the pantheon is commonly called 'La Rotonda,') and stood for some minutes before this superb edifice, admiring its lofty portico, beautiful in effect, although blackened by time in his various attacks during nearly 2000 years. This building is now 'La Chiesa di S. Maria ad Martires.' The interior is striking from the simplicity of its architecture, and the grand circular sweep of its walls and cupola. The light of day streams into it by one circular opening in the centre of the dome. The ancient bronze that covered the inside of the dome was long ago torn off, and its rich appearance is now poorly supplied by a covering of white wash. In the niches, round the walls, which were formerly occupied by statues of the heathen gods, we now see busts of celebrated Roman artists and of ecclesiastics. The bust of Metastasio stands on the right of the entrance; next him Pessuti, a mathematician; next Bracci, a sculptor, and so on. While standing in the pantheon, I could not help reflecting on the singular changes in the tide of human affairs which had converted it from a heathen temple into a christian church, and had supplied the places of imaginary divinities by the busts of perishable mortals. Catholics were kneeling around me on the pavement,-and tapers were burning on the high altar under which modern superstition has placed the real or imaginary relics of christian martyrs. I must mention, (in honour of music,) that, in one of the chapels in the pantheon, stands the bust of Antonio Sacchini, the famous Neapolitan, whom I have always considered as one of the most pure, natural, and graceful among Italian composers.

Proceeded to the study of Canova, the famous Venetian sculptor, to inquire for my travelling companion G, and to see some of the works of the great artist. Walked through the rooms among casts, models, and sculptures, done by Canova or his pupils. I shall mention only two or three of the most striking sculptures by Canova which I saw there. A colossal group of Theseus killing the Centaur, formed of two large pieces to be afterwards joined together, this is not yet quite finished. It was ordered by Bonaparte for Milan, and the Milanese government have, of course, not countermanded the order. It is to be sent thither. A beautiful figure of a dancing Nymph for a most exquisite figure of a naked Nymph, awakened by the song of love. She is recumbent, and raising herself a little,-turns her head to listen to the enchanting strains of the god who sits near her feet, with a lyre in his hands. This charming figure is for the Prince Regent of England. A very fine head of Canova, executed by himself on a large scale, in white marble, and considered an admirable likeness, a group of Venus and Mars, just begun. Venus appears to be clinging round the neck of Mars in an amorous or beseeching manner; but the whole is so merely in a state of commence

ment, that it is not possible to form any correct idea of what it may be when finished. While looking at these fine things, the figure of Mr. J-B-started up before me, and inquired, very kindly, what had brought me into this part of the world, &c. &c. He is much altered by illness, and looks very pale and weak. He said he had not yet recovered from the shock given to his constitution by the rupture of a blood vessel which happened to him in Paris. In a room of Canova's Studio are hung up excellent engravings of this artist's works.

After dinner, visited St. Peter's church; passed over the bridge of St. Angelo, and, leaving on the right the circular fortress of that name, (formerly the tomb of Adrian, afterwards converted into a fortress, and rendered peculiarly interesting by its intimate connexion with some of the most glorious names and events of Roman history,) advanced along the unpromising street that conducts directly to the Basilica of the Vatican, commonly called St. Peter's church. On first entering the Piazza, here your eye is at once called off from the ornamented front of the church to the simple, and majestic, and prodigious colonnade, sweeping away to the right and left in two grand uniform curves. In the centre of the Piazza stands the beautiful and entire Egyptian obelisk of red granite, brought from Heliopolis during the reign of Caligula. This obelisk was placed here by Sextus V. It has no hieroglyphics. Height, exclusive of pedestal, 113 palms. Its greatest breadth 12 palms. Total height, including pedestal and cross, 180 palms. On each side of this obelisk, towards the colonnade, stands a fountain of a remarkable elegant appearance. When I first entered this Piazza, my eye was offended by the buildings of the Vatican, that rise to the northwest, close beside the church and colonnade, and which seemed to me to injure materially the effect of these principal objects. These buildings rise high and irregular on one side, and, from their position and appearance, struck upon my eye as huge excrescences, disfiguring the beauty of this magnificent piazza. I may be very far wrong in my judgment, but such was the impression instantly produced upon me by these accompaniments.

The portico of St. Peter's is very grand. At each extremity is a vestibule containing an equestrian statue, the one of Constantine the Great, the other of Charlemagne. Looking along from either of these vestibules to the other, the effect is striking. Including them, the length of the portico is 638 palms, its breadth 54. On entering the church, the eye is at first unable to judge correctly of distances and magnitudes; every thing appears nearer and smaller than it is in reality. Indeed, the richness and splendour of the decorations bewilder the eye for a time; and in its wanderings over a multiplicity of many coloured and glittering details, it loses that kind of indescribable impression which is produced by vast and simple unity. The gilded stucco of the moulded and highembowed roof,'-the beautiful and finely-polished marbles that

form pillars, and pilasters, and tombs, and statues, around you,the towering altar, that rises with its four immense twisted columns of gilded bronze under the great dome,-every thing that you see is fine and brilliant;—but it is only after the first impressions give place to a sober calculation of the immensity and grandeur of the whole fabric, that the emotion of sublimity is felt-and it is felt. But, to see and understand the greatness of St. Peter's church, you must visit it more times than one, and you must ascend to the highest point of steady footing, just under the great ball that crowns the summit; but of this in its place. The tombs of popes ornament the interior of St. Peter's with a profusion of fiue marbles and rich sculpture. Approaching the great altar, you are struck by the magnificence of this lofty and beautiful piece of metallic architecture. The bronze employed in this altar was taken from the Pantheon, and it is said to weigh 186,392 pounds, (the Italian pound is 12 ounces.) The expense of its formation is said to have exceeded 100,000 scudi, and the gilding of it alone to have cost 40,000 scudi of gold. I do not well understand this calculation, but I am in a Catholic country, where faith is required as the foundation of all good belief; so I pass the account. Looking up here, beside the great altar, the grand cupola astonishes you by its altitude and fine proportions. It is indeed grand, and was worthy of the genius of Michael Angelo. On my first visit to this church, there was some fine music performed in the Capella del Coro. Here I heard, for the first time, the voices of some of those unfortunate beings who have a matured human shape, but are neither men nor women. The soft, and sweet, and melancholy tones of their fine voices pleased me, and yet distressed me. few electric flashes of horrible reflection upon their hideous destiny passed through my soul, and made my blood boil with indignation against the hellish miscreants by whom such a monstrous violation of nature was invented and executed. The unhappy victims to whom I have alluded were accompanied by some excellent tenor and bass voices, and by the old and celebrated organ of the chapel. Under the great altar is the sepulchre, or Confessione di S. Pietro.' On the balustrade that surrounds this sepulchre, are disposed 112 large gilded lamps, which are kept almost constantly burning. Around this sanctified place, and before altars in different parts of the church, were kneeling, men, women, and children, whose devotion seemed to be easily interrupted by curiosity, since they kept turning about every moment to look at us with the quick and keen eye of inquiry, while their lips continued to move mechanically in their accustomed exercise. In my after-visits to St. Peter's, I remarked the same inattention of the people to the duties in which they were engaged.

A

ART. VII.-Memoir read to the Agricultural Society of Pennsyl vania, January 19, 1819; by William Rawle, Esq.

THIS interesting memoir, read but a few days since, will very soon be given entire to the public; the society having unanimously presented their thanks to Mr. Rawle, and requested a copy for publication. Having participated in the pleasure of hearing it we are enabled to present the following extract, and have to regret that our limits render it necessarily so short. The subject of the discourse was the policy of our encouraging migration from Europe to this country. And now, whilst the belief is extending among the people of Europe, that America is anxious to entice away their labourers and their artisans, it is gratifying to find advanced by such respectable authority the language which the dignity of this nation requires it to hold; that we do not need nor desire any other accession to our numbers than that which is supplied by the natural increase of our own native population. The duty of giving an hospitable reception to such strangers as may come to dwell among us is however fully recognised, and many topics subservient to the principal question are amply illustrated; but we have room only for what is subjoined.

'Our citizens at present form three general classes. 1st. Those who practise the productive art of agriculture, including the raising of animal food. 2d. Those who are engaged in manufactures, and 3d. Those who pursue commerce.

"The great preponderance of the first class, in point of numbers, impresses a character on the present discussion. Were we-merely a nation of merchants or artists or warriors, different principles would be found to apply.

'There is an obvious distinction between admitting and inviting immigration. A nation in a state of peace and safety ought not to deny a hospitable reception to the fugitive from oppression or misfortune at home. This is the debt of humanity. But considerations of a different nature press upon us when we examine whether it is now expedient to take pains to invite the inhabitants of other nations to join our community.

'This is a legitimate question of self-interest and depends on our

own wants.

1st. Do we require them to improve our own condition?

2d. Do we require them for our own safety?

3d. Is the present population too small in respect to the quantity of land?

4th. Is our own natural increase too slow?

1st. In about two hundred years a population exceeding six millions of free persons is found in the full and useful possession of one soil. A small proportion of these millions is composed of recent emigrants from Europe. Much the greatest part consists of descendants from the original emigrants.