inking into the gulf appears to boil up again in
clouds of spray, but the artificial channel above is distinctly
visible. There is an ancient bridge over the Anio and part of a
road up to Tivoli in wonderful preservation. Our party pleased
their imaginations by thinking that Augustus and Mecaenas had
probably gone cheek by jowl over the road and bridge, but
Stupendous told me it was built by Valerian, A.D. 253, though he
had no notion who Valerian was, except that he was an Emperor.
There are some curious remains of Mecaenas's Villa, particularly
the places (if they are really so) where the slaves were kept,
which are just like cellars. I cannot remember seeing any
apartments destined for slaves at Pompeii, but from all one sees
or hears and reads of the Roman slaves, they must have been
treated in a manner that it is inconceivable they should have
endured, considering their numbers, and of what they were
generally composed--barbarian prisoners or free citizens reduced
to servitude. We ended the _giro_ at the Villa d'Este, and
breakfasted on the terrace; the rest of the party then retired to
sleep and play at cards at the inn, and I started with Stupendous
to see the remains of an ancient city, and some specimens of
Cyclopean walls, about four or five miles off. The first place is
called Ventidius Bassa's, because that gentleman had a villa
there, built on the ruins of a little Cyclopean town, where there
are still some walls standing. From thence to Mitriano, which
must have been a large town, the vestiges still covering several
hills, and the remains of walls being very large; there is
nothing left but a few broken fluted columns, and one flat marble
stone perfect, with an inscription. This jaunt was hardly worth
the trouble.

When I came back from Mitriano, I went down to the Grotto of the
Syrens, from whence the view of the cascade is much finer than
from the other grotto, and really grand; but the path is very
slippery from the clouds of spray constantly falling over it. I
did not go quite to the grotto, for Stupendous told me he had
nearly slipped down the rock and cracked his crown; so I declined
running that risk, but saw just as well, for I went nearly to the
bottom.

At half-past four we went to Adrian's Villa, with which I was as
much delighted as I was disappointed with Tivoli. Nothing can be
more picturesque than the ruins, and nothing gives such an idea
of the grandeur of the ancient masters of the wo