elvet, on one of which were
placed the singers, and on the other the instruments, which kept up one
unbroken strain of music....

And yet these glorious objects are even still like new acquaintances to
me. One has not yet lived with them, nor got familiar with their
peculiarities. Some of them attract us with irresistible power, so that
for a time one feels indifferent, if not unjust, toward all others.
Thus, for instance, the Pantheon, the Apollo Belvedere, some colossal
heads, and very recently the Sistine Chapel, have by turns so won my
whole heart, that I scarcely saw any thing besides them. But, in truth,
can man, little as man always is, and accustomed to littleness, ever
make himself equal to all that here surrounds him of the noble, the
vast, and the refined? Even tho he should in any degree adapt himself to
it, then how vast is the multitude of objects that immediately press
upon him from all sides, and meet him at every turn, of which each
demands for itself the tribute of his whole attention. How is one to get
out of the difficulty? No other way assuredly than by patiently allowing
it to work, becoming industrious, and attending the while to all that
others have accomplished for our benefit.

Of the beauty of a walk through Rome by moonlight it is impossible to
form a conception, without having witnessed it. All single objects are
swallowed up by the great masses of light and shade, and nothing but
grand and general outlines present themselves to the eye. For three
several days we have enjoyed to the full the brightest and most glorious
of nights. Peculiarly beautiful at such a time is the Coliseum. At night
it is always closed; a hermit dwells in a little shrine within its
range, and beggars of all kinds nestle beneath its crumbling arches; the
latter had lit a fire on the arena, and a gentle wind bore down the
smoke to the ground, so that the lower portion of the ruins was quite
hid by it, while above the vast walls stood out in deeper darkness
before the eye. As we stopt at the gate to contemplate the scene through
the iron gratings, the moon shone brightly in the heavens above.
Presently the smoke found its way up the sides, and through every chink
and opening, while the moon lit it up like a cloud. The sight was
exceedingly glorious. In such a light one ought also to see the
Pantheon, the Capitol, the Portico of St. Peter's, and the other grand
streets and squares--and thus sun and moon, like the human