enlightened as to the whole universe. There is also in this collection a fragment of the entablature of the temple of Antonius and Faustina, in Rome.
The bold front of this noble piece of architecture reminded me of the capital of the Pantheon at Mannheim. It is, indeed, something very different from our queer saints, piled up one above the other on little consoles, after the Gothic style of decoration; something different from our tobacco-pipe-like shafts, our little steeple-crowned towers and foliated terminals. From all taste for these I am now, thank God, set free for ever!
I will further mention a few works of statuary, which, as I passed along these last few days, I have observed with astonishment and instruction. Before the gate of the Arsenal two huge hons of white marble: the one is half recumbent, raising himself up on his fore feet; the other is lying,—noble emblems of the variety of life. They are of such huge proportions, that all around appears little, and man himself would become as nought, did not sublime objects elevate him. They are of the best times of Greece, and were brought here from the Piræus, in the better days of the Republic.
From Athens, too, in all probability, came two basreliefs which have been introduced in the Church of St. Justina, the conqueress of the Turks. Unfortunately they are in some degree hidden by the church seats. The sacristan called my attention to them, on account of the tradition that Titian modelled from them the beautiful angel in his picture of the martyrdom of St. Peter. The relievos represent genii, who are decking themselves out with the attributes of the gods,—so beautiful in truth as to transcend all idea or conception.
Next I contemplated with quite peculiar feelings the naked colossal statue of Marcus Agrippa, in the
