and going through the marriage ceremony. There was a great deal of
expression in their faces and figures; and the spectator feels, moreover,
that the artist must have been a devout man,--an impression which we
seldom receive from modern pictures, however awfully holy the subject, or
however consecrated the place they hang in. Mrs. Jameson seems to be
familiar with Italy, its people and life, as well as with its
picture-galleries. She is said to be rather irascible in her temper; but
nothing could be sweeter than her voice, her look, and all her
manifestations to-day. When we were coming away she clasped my hand in
both of hers, and again expressed the pleasure of having seen me, and her
gratitude to me for calling on her; nor did I refrain from responding
Amen to these effusions. . . . .

Taking leave of Mrs. Jameson, we drove through the city, and out of the
Lateran Gate; first, however, waiting a long while at Monaldini's
bookstore in the Piazza de' Spagna for Mr. Story, whom we finally took up
in the street, after losing nearly an hour.

Just two miles beyond the gate is a space on the green campagna where,
for some time past, excavations have been in progress, which thus far
have resulted in the discovery of several tombs, and the old, buried, and
almost forgotten church or basilica of San Stefano. It is a beautiful
spot, that of the excavations, with the Alban hills in the distance, and
some heavy, sunlighted clouds hanging above, or recumbent at length upon
them, and behind the city and its mighty dome. The excavations are an
object of great interest both to the Romans and to strangers, and there
were many carriages and a great many visitors viewing the progress of the
works, which are carried forward with greater energy than anything else I
have seen attempted at Rome. A short time ago the ground in the vicinity
was a green surface, level, except here and there a little hillock, or