Rome is threatened with a great artistic loss. The King of Naples has ordered the Hercules Farnese to be brought to his palace. The news has made all the artists quite sad. However, on this occasion we shall see something which was hidden from our forefathers.
The aforesaid statue, namely, from the head to the knee, and afterward the lower part of the feet, together with the sockle on which it stood, were found within the Farnesian domain: but the legs, from the knee to the ankle, were wanting, and had been supplied by Giuglielmo Porta; on these it had stood since its discovery to the present day. In the meantime, however, the genuine old legs were found in the lands of the Borghesi, and were to be seen in their villa.
Eecently, however, the Prince Borghese has achieved a victory over himself, and has made a present of these costly relics to the King of Naples. They are removing Porta's legs, and replacing them by the genuine ones; and every one is promising himself—however well contented he has been hitherto with the old—quite a new treat and a more harmonious enjoyment.
Yesterday, which was the Festival of the Holy Abbot St. Anthony, we had a merry day. The weather was the finest in the world: though there had been a hard frost during the night, the day was bright and warm.
One may remark, that all religions which enlarge their worship or their speculations must at last come to this,—of making the brute creation in some degree partakers of spiritual favours. St. Anthony—abbot or bishop—is the patron saint of all four-footed creatures: his festival is a kind of Saturnalian holiday for the otherwise oppressed beasts, and also for their keepers and drivers. All the gentry must on this day
