impresses the beholder as being painted devoutly and earnestly by a
religious man. In one of the rooms there is a small bronze Apollo,
supposed by Winckelmann to be an original of Praxiteles; but I could not
make myself in the least sensible of its merit.

The rest of the things in the casino I shall pass over, as also those in
the coffee-house,--an edifice which stands a hundred yards or more from
the casino, with an ornamental garden, laid out in walks and flower-plats
between. The coffee-house has a semicircular sweep of porch with a good
many statues and busts beneath it, chiefly of distinguished Romans. In
this building, as in the casino, there are curious mosaics, large vases
of rare marble, and many other things worth long pauses of admiration;
but I think that we were all happier when we had done with the works of
art, and were at leisure to ramble about the grounds. The Villa Albani
itself is an edifice separate from both the coffee-house and casino, and
is not opened to strangers. It rises, palace-like, in the midst of the
garden, and, it is to be hoped, has some possibility of comfort amidst
its splendors.--Comfort, however, would be thrown away upon it; for
besides that the site shares the curse that has fallen upon every
pleasant place in the vicinity of Rome, . . . . it really has no occupant
except the servants who take care of it. The Count of Castelbarco, its
present proprietor, resides at Milan. The grounds are laid out in the
old fashion of straight paths, with borders of box, which form hedges of
great height and density, and as even as a brick wall at the top and
sides. There are also alleys forming long vistas between the trunks and
beneath the boughs of oaks, ilexes, and olives; and there are shrubberies
and tangled wildernesses of palm, cactus, rhododendron, and I know not
what; and a profusion of roses that bloom and wither with nobody to pluck
and few to look at them. They climb about the sculpture of fountains,
rear themselves against pillars and porticos, run brimming over the