is a chapel, separated from the rest of the church by an iron paling;
and, being admitted into it with another party, I found it most
elaborately magnificent. But one magnificence outshone another, and made
itself the brightest conceivable for the moment. However, this chapel
was as rich as the most precious marble could make it, in pillars and
pilasters, and broad, polished slabs, covering the whole walls (except
where there were splendid and glowing frescos; or where some monumental
statuary or bas-relief, or mosaic picture filled up an arched niche).
Its architecture was a dome, resting on four great arches; and in size it
would alone have been a church. In the centre of the mosaic pavement
there was a flight of steps, down which we went, and saw a group in
marble, representing the nativity of Christ, which, judging by the
unction with which our guide talked about it, must have been of peculiar
sanctity. I hate to leave this chapel and church, without being able to
say any one thing that may reflect a portion of their beauty, or of the
feeling which they excite. Kneeling against many of the pillars there
were persons in prayer, and I stepped softly, fearing lest my tread on
the marble pavement should disturb them,--a needless precaution, however,
for nobody seems to expect it, nor to be disturbed by the lack of it.

The situation of the church, I should suppose, is the loftiest in Rome:
it has a fountain at one end, and a column at the other; but I did not
pay particular attention to either, nor to the exterior of the church
itself.

On my return, I turned aside from the Via delle Quattro Fontane into the
Via Quirinalis, and was led by it into the Piazza di Monte Cavallo. The
street through which I passed was broader, cleanlier, and statelier than
most streets in Rome, and bordered by palaces; and the piazza had noble
edifices around it, and a fountain, an obelisk, and two nude statues in