It was, if I remember rightly, Cardinal Alberoni who observed that this
beautiful building ought to be preserved in a golden _étui_, and its
compactness and exquisite finish prove that the implied eulogium was
not unmerited.

I have nowhere else noticed the introduction of olive leaves in
Corinthian capitals instead of those of the acanthus; the effect of
which is very good. A design was once formed of removing the _Maison
Carrée_ to Versailles. Colbert was the originator of this barbarous
project, which, however, was fortunately abandoned from the fear of
impairing, if not destroying, the beauty of the building. The Emperor
Napoleon is said to have entertained a similar notion, and meant to
grace Paris with this model of architectural perfection; but it was
found to be too solidly built to admit of removal, and he who could
shake empires, could not stir the _Maison Carrée_.

The transportation of antiquities from their original site can never be
excused, except in cases where it was the only means of insuring their
preservation. All the power of association is lost when they are
transferred to other places; and the view of them ceases to afford that
satisfaction experienced when beheld where they were primarily destined
to stand. I can no more fancy the _Maison Carrée_ appropriately placed
in the bustle and gaiety of Paris, than I could endure to see one of
the temples at Pæstum stuck down at Charing Cross.

One loves, when contemplating such precious memorials of antiquity, to
look around on the objects in nature, still wearing the same aspect as
when they were reared. The hills and mountains, unlike the productions
of man, change not; and nowhere can the fragments of a bygone age