that under the rubbish which he treads lies buried Imperial Rome once the delight and the beauty of the universe. Deep interred under the accumulated deposit of fifteen centuries, it now serves for the foundation of another city, which, though the fairest in the world, shines only with a few faintly reflected rays of its tarnished glory. If then the magnificence of modern Rome be an object of admiration and wonder, what must have been the majesty of the ancient city. Greater probably than the imagination of moderns, little accustomed to works of unusual beauty or magnitude, can conceive, and capable of astonishing, not strangers only, but even the Greeks themselves, though the latter were habituated to architectural scenery, and almost educated in the midst of temples and colonnades.

Constantius, a cold and unfeeling prince, who had visited all the cities of Greece and Asia, and was familiar with the superb exhibitions of Ephesus, Magnesia and Athens, was struck dumb with admiration as he proceeded in triumphal pomp through the streets; but when he entered the forum of Trajan, and beheld all the wonders of that matchless structure, he felt for once a momentary enthusiasm, and burst into exclamations of surprise and astonishment*. Strabo, who had traversed Greece in every direction, and was without doubt intimately acquainted with all the beauties of his country, and surely like every other

- The Emperor is said to have fixed his attention on the equestrian statue of Trajan, that stood before the Basilica, and asked where such another horse could be found? when a Persian Prince who accompanied him answered, "Supposing we find such a horse, who will build him such another stable.”

Greek*, not a little partial to its claims to pre-eminence, describes the magnificence of Rome as an object of transcendent glory, that surpassed expectation, and rose far above all human competition.

If Greeks, so jealous of the arts and edifices of their native land; if Emperors of the East, who idolized their own capital, and looked with envy on the ornaments of the ancient city, were thus obliged to pay an involuntary tribute to its superior beauty, we may pardon the well founded enthusiasm of the Romans themselves, when they represent it as an epitome of the universe, and an abode worthy of the godst. And indeed, if Virgil, at a time when Augustus had only begun his projected improvements, and the architectural glory of the city was in its dawn, ventured to give it the proud appellation of Rerum pulcherrima, we may conjecture what it must have been in the reign of Hadrian, when it had received all its decorations, and blazed in its full meridian splendor. Even in its decline, when it had twice experienced barbaric rage and had seen some of its fairest edifices sink in hostile flames, it was capable of exciting ideas of something more than mortal grandeur, and raising the thoughts of a holy bishop from earth to heaven‡.

After

* Græci genus in gloriam suam effusissimum. + Pliny 36.

Plin.

The period I allude to is the reign of the Goth Theodoric, and the prelate is the eloquent Fulgentius.

5

the Gothic war itself, which gave the last blow to the greatness of Rome, when it had been repeatedly besieged, taken and ransacked, yet then, though stript of its population, and abandoned with its tottering temples to time and desolation; even then, deformed by barbarism, wasted by pestilence, and bowed down to the ground under the accumulated judgments of heaven, the Eternal City still retained its imperial features, nor appeared less than the Mistress of the World, and the excess of glory obscured.

J

Rome was in this state when Gregory the Great made those pathetic complaints, of the scenes of misery and ruin that surrounded him, and yet the magnificence of Trajan's forum, which was still standing, though disfigured, was such as to draw from that Pontiff, who neither wanted taste nor feeling, an exclamation of affectionate regard towards its founder.

When I say that Gregory wanted neither taste nor feeling, I am aware that I speak in opposition to Gibbon, who represents him as deficient in both, as well indeed as in every other classical and liberal accomplishment. Gregory lived at a period perhaps the most disastrous recorded in history, when Italy and Rome itself had been successively visited and desolated by the four severest scourges that heaven employs in its anger to chastise guilty nations--war, inundation, famine, and pestilence. The war was the Gothic war, the most destructive contest ever carried on in the bosom of Italy, not excepting the invasion of Hannibal in ancient, and of the French under Charles of Anjou in modern times. This contest was followed after a short interval, by the irruption of

the Langobardi, who continued to waste and convulse Italy from the end of the sixth to the beginning of the ninth century. The inundation was occasioned by the Goths, who imprudently during the siege, broke several of the aqueducts, and let the rivers confined in them range without control over the plain; to which we may add an overflow of the Tiber, that rose to a prodigious height, and not only deluged the country but flooded the streets, and undermined several edifices in the city itself. Famine is the natural consequence of war, when carried on without mercy or precaution; and in a warm country stagnant waters and swampy grounds, the unavoidable effects of inundations, emit vapors that never fail to produce infection. So violent was the pestilence, that in a procession in which the Pontiff marched at the head of the people, he had the mortification to see seventy of his flock fall down and expire in his

presence.

To alleviate these calamities, was the occupation of Gregory, and in the discharge of this melancholy duty, he could have had little time and little inclination to indulge himself in the pleasures of classical pursuits. To which we may add, that literary researches are the amusements of leisure and prosperity, when the mind, free from external pressure and distraction, can expatiate at ease over the regions of fancy and invention, and cull their flowers without fear or interruption. But in the fall of empires, when misery besets every door, and death stares every man in the face, it is timely and natural to turn to objects of greater importance, and while the fashion of this world passeth away, to fix the thoughts and affections on more substantial and more permanent acquire

ments. But with all these disadvantages Gregory possessed talents and accomplishments that would have entitled him to consideration, even in more refined ages, and whoever peruses his epistles, will acknowledge that he was not deficient either in imagination or judgment, and still less in the nobler qualities of a benevolent and lofty mind. His style, though deeply tinged with the increasing barbarism of the times, is genuine, grammatical Latin, and in purity and perspicuity superior to that of some authors who flourished in the preceding age; such as Cassiodorus and Ammianus Marcellinus. It is indeed related to his honor, that he endeavoured to support upon all occasions the language, the manners, and the dress of the Romans, in opposition to the remains of Gothic corruption, and the uncouth jargon and savage demeanor of the Langobardi. About his person and in his court he employed none but native Italians, free from every Gothic mixture in blood, or dialect, and by his attachment to his country, his active benevolence, and mild but steady patriotism, he has deserved the honorable appellation of the Last of Romans*.

* This Pope is abused by Gibbon, because he reprimanded a bishop for teaching (not for studying as the historian chooses to word it) the Latin poets, and opening a grammar school in his palace. Yet it will surely be admitted that a bishop may justly be expected to devote his time to duties of a more elevated nature, than the avocations of an ordinary schoolmaster, and exposes himself to censure if he devotes to literary amusement the time and attention which he owes to his flock, and to the sublime studies of his profession. A most respectable prelate of the church of England, when promoted to the episcopacy is said to have renounced the study of chemistry, which he had prosecuted before with zeal and success, as inconsistent with the more important labors attached to his new dignity. The reader will probably applaud a resolution so conformable to the