, of the high flowering grasses.
These vestiges of porticoes and domes and grottoes are not in the
least beautiful architecturally; and every statue, every bit of frieze
has been ruthlessly removed, only the broken slabs of marble, of
wainscot and a few broken mosaics remaining--'tis the only garden near
Rome with not _one_ statue in it! But somehow the divine vegetation,
the divine view of near blue mountains and blue plain seem to
transform all this brick and cement into something beautiful and
precious, to turn the few remaining columns and stalked broken
capitals (all the rest, vases, baths, floors, marbles, gone to the
Vatican) into something exquisite. Perhaps 'tis the very absence of
statues which makes one think what statues must have stood there, and
feel as if they were still present. Anyhow this quite accidental
place, this vanished palace covered over by the olive groves, the box
hedges, cypress avenues and pastures of little trumpery farm
villas--is far more beautiful and wonderful than any of the art-made
Roman gardens, and is, so to speak, their _original_--much as those
Tivoli falls seem the prototype of all the Roman fountains.

It began to rain as we were there, and thundered through the great
halls. Then as it cleared over the mountains, the plain green, vague!
was blotted with black rain, a threatening yellow sky above.

_April_ 10.

XI.

S. LORENZO FUORI.

The fine _ambones_; the very peculiar and beautiful galleries,
with delicate columns, like a triforium on either side of choir
for women; the choir with splendid episcopal seat and pale cipolin
benches--Tadema like--for priests all round.

We must imagine classic antiquity full of this wonderful blond colour
of marbles; arrangements of palest lilac, green, rosy yellow, and a
white shimmer. Colours such as we see on water at sunset, ineffable.

_April_ 10.

XII.

ON THE ALBAN HILLS.

The big olives, pruned square, but of full dense foliage, not
smoke-like, but the colour of old dark silver; the vineyards of pale
criss-cross blond canes on violet ground. The railway goes round Lake
Albano, reflecting blue stormy sky and white cloud balls; a gash when
the current alters shows marvellous hyacinth blue. A fringe of budding
little trees and of great pale asphodels; the smell of them and of
freshness.

Beautiful circular church, cupola silvery, ribbed outside, at Ariccia,
opposite Palazzo Chigi; a great grim palace, staine