the country, it has in some measure tacitly connived at it, as a
compromise between an inefficient poor-law and the widespread misery
arising from the improvidence of so many of its subjects; the amount
of the harvest reaped by the beggars from the visitors to Rome being
so much saved to the public purse. And though one does not meet so
many unscrupulous beggars as formerly in the main thoroughfares of
Rome, one is often annoyed by them on the steps of the churches, where
they seem to have the right of sanctuary, and to levy toll upon all
for whom they needlessly lift the heavy leathern curtain that hangs at
the door. We must remember that mendicancy is a very ancient
institution in Italy, and that it will die hard, if it ever dies at
all.

The church of the Trinita dei Monti, built in 1494 by Charles VIII. of
France, occupies a most commanding position on the terrace above the
Spanish Square, and is seen as a most conspicuous feature in all the
views of Rome from the neighbourhood. An Egyptian obelisk with
hieroglyphics, of the age of the Ptolemies, which once adorned the
so-called circus in the gardens of Sallust on the Quirinal, now
elevated on a lofty pedestal, dedicated to the Holy Trinity, and
surmounted by a cross, stands in front of the church, and gives an air
of antiquity to it which its own four hundred years could hardly
impart, as well as forms an appropriate termination to the splendid
flight of steps which leads up to it. The church is celebrated for the
possession of the "Descent from the Cross," a fresco by Ricciarelli,
commonly known by the name of Daniel of Volterra, said to be one of
the three finest pictures in the world. But the chapel which it adorns
is badly lighted, and the painting has been greatly injured by the
French, who attempted to remove it in 1817. It does not produce a very
pleasing impression, being dark and oily-looking; and the cross-lights