CHAP. XII.

Campus Martius, its Edifices-Mausoleum of Augustus-Pantheon-Columna Trajana-Bridges -Circus-Causes of the Destruction of ancient Edifices.

FROM the hills we descended to the Campus Martius, in the early ages of the Republic an open field devoted to military exercises, and well calculated for that purpose by its level grassy surface, and the neighborhood of the river winding along its border. In process of time some edifices of public utility were erected upon it; but their number was small during the Republic; while under the Emperors they were increased to such a degree, that the Campus Martius became another city, composed of theatres, porticos, baths, and temples. These edifices were not only magnificent in themselves, but surrounded with groves and walks, and arranged with a due regard to perspective beauty. Such is the idea which we must naturally form of buildings erected by Consuls and Emperors, each endeavoring to rival or surpass his predecessor in magnificence; and such is the de

scription which Strabo gives of the Campus in his time, that is, nearly in the time of its greatest glory. This superb theatre of glorious edifices, when beheld from the Janiculum, bordered in front by the Tiber, and closed behind by the Capitol, the Viminal, the Quirinal, and the Pincian hills, with temples, palaces, and gardens lining their sides, and swelling from their summits, must have formed a picture of astonishing beauty, splendor, and variety, and have justified the proud appellation so often bestowed on Rome "of the temple and abode of the gods." But of all the pompous fabrics that formed this assemblage of wonders how few remain and of the remaining few how small the number of those which retain any features of their ancient majesty! Among these latter can hardly be reckoned Augustus's tomb, the vast vaults and substructions of which indeed exist, but its pyramidal form and pillars are no more; or Marcellus's theatre half buried under the superstructure raised upon its vaulted galleries; or the portico of Octavia lost with its surviving arch and a few shattered pillars in the Pescheria. Of such surviving edifices the principal indeed is the Pantheon itself.

The Pantheon, it is true, retains its majestic portico, and presents its graceful dome uninjured: the pavement laid by Agrippa, and trodden by Augustus, still forms its floor; the compartments

and fluted pillars of the richest marble that originally lined its walls, still adorn its inward circumference; the deep tints that age has thrown over it only contribute to raise its dignity, and augment our veneration; and the traveller enters its portal, through which twice twenty generations have flowed in succession, with a mixture of awe and religious veneration. Yet the Pantheon itself has been "shorn of its beams," and looks eclipsed through the "disastrous twilight" of eighteen centuries. Where is now its proud elevation, and the flight of steps that conducted to its threshold? Where the marbles that clothed, or the handmaid edifices that concealed its brick exterior? Where the statues that graced its cornice? The bronze that blazed on its dome, that vaulted its portico, and formed its sculptured doors; and where the silver that lined the compartments of its roof within, and dazzled the spectator with its brightness? The rapacity of Genseric began, the avarice of succeeding barbarians continued, to strip it of these splendid decorations; and time, by levelling many a noble structure in its neighborhood, has raised the pavement, and deprived it of all the advantages of situation.

The two celebrated pillars of Antoninus and Trajan stand each in its square; but they also have lost several feet of their original elevation; and the colonnade or portico that enclosed the

latter, supposed to be the noblest structure of the kind ever erected, has long since sunk in the dust, and its ruins probably lie buried under the foundations of the neighboring houses.

Seven bridges formerly conducted over the Tiber to the Janiculum and the Vatican Mount: of these the most remarkable were the first, the Pons Elius; and the last, the Pons Sublicius: the former erected by Adrian, opened a grand communication from the Campus Martius to his mausoleum. It remains under the appellation of Ponte S. Angelo; the statues that adorned its balustrade, disappeared at an early period, and have since been replaced by statues of St. Peter and St. Paul, and of several angels executed by eminent masters, and considered beautiful. The ancient statues were probably thrown into the Tiber, and may at some future period emerge from its channel. The Pons Sublicius lay much lower, and formed a passage from the Aventine Mount to the Janiculum. Though consecrated by its antiquity, for it was the first bridge built at Rome, and still more by the heroic exertions of Horatius Cocles, it has long since fallen, and only some slight traces of foundations or abutments remain on the Ripa Grande, to mark the spot where it once stood. Two others, the Pons Triumphalis and Pous Senatorius, have shared the same fate.

The reader will probably expect an account of the various theatres and circusses that rose in every quarter of the city, and furnished perpetual occupation to the degenerate Romans of later times, who confined their ambition to the pittance of bread and the public amusement of the day: and he will feel some disappointment when he learns, that scarce a trace remains of such immense structures, that in general their very foundations have vanished, and that the Circus Maximus itself, though capable of containing half the population of Rome within its vast embrace, is erased from the surface of the earth, and has left no vestige of its existence, excepting the hollow scooped out in the Aventine valley for its foundations.

It may be asked how the edifices just alluded to, and a thousand others equally calculated to resist the depredations of time and the usual means of artificial destruction, should have thus sunk into utter annihilation? May we not adopt the language of poetry?

Some felt the silent stroke of mould'ring age,
Some hostile fury, some religious rage.

Barbarian blindness, Christian zeal conspire,

And Papal piety, and Gothic fire.

Pope's Epistle to Addison.

These verses contain a very comprehensive scale of destruction; five causes sufficient to com