ir mouths. At the top are larger statues of horses,
standing on lofty pedestals, with men by the side of them, holding them
by the bridles. These are ancient statues. They were found buried up
in rubbish in an obscure quarter of Rome, about two hundred years ago.
Beyond, you see other groups of colossal statuary raised on lofty
pedestals in various parts of the great square which forms the summit of
the hill.

[Illustration: ASCENT TO THE CAPITOL.]

On the left you see a church, standing in a very high position, with a
still steeper ascent than the one I have been describing, leading up to
it. On the right is a winding road for carriages, which leads up, by a
tolerably gentle ascent, to the great square.

The great square is surrounded with vast palaces, almost all of which
are filled with paintings, statuary, sculptures, and other treasures of
ancient and modern art. Mr. George and Rollo turned to the left after
they had ascended into the square, and entered a door over which was an
inscription denoting that it led to the museum of sculptures and
statues. After ascending one or two staircases, they came to the
entrance of a suit of apartments in which the statuary was contained.
There was a public functionary, dressed somewhat like a soldier,
standing sentinel at the door. He, however, readily allowed Mr. George
and Rollo to pass in. There were various other parties of visitors going
in at the same time.

Mr. George and Rollo walked through one long room after another, with
rows of statues, and busts, and other works of ancient sculpture on each
side. These marbles were almost all more or less chipped and broken, or
otherwise greatly defaced by the hard usage to which they had been
subjected.

"Uncle George," said Rollo, as they walked along, "how came all their
ears and noses broken off in this way?"

"Why, all these things were dug out from heaps of stones and rubbish,"
said Mr. George, "a few hundred years ago. For nearly a thousand years
before that time, they were regarded as of no more value than so many
old bricks.

"Here's a gentleman coming," added Mr. George, interrupting himself,
"who looks as if he could speak French. I mean to ask him where the hall
of the Dying Gladiator is."

Accordingly, when the gentleman came up, Mr. George, accosting him in
French, asked him the question, and the gentleman, replying in French,
gave the information in a very polite manner. It was a little farther
on, he sai