ls, who wrought under the inspiration of a
nobler faith. No Titian or Raphael, no Michael Angelo or Bramante, was
found in the degenerate days of Pio Nono to immortalise what he called
the greatest event of his reign.

The square in which the pillar of the Immaculate Conception is
situated, along with the surrounding streets, is called the "Ghetto
Inglese," for here the English and Americans most do congregate. At
almost every step one encounters the fresh open countenances, blue
eyes, and fair hair, which one is accustomed to associate with darker
skies and ruder buildings. The Piazza di Spagna, so called from the
palace of the Spanish ambassador situated in a corner of it, is one of
the finest squares of Rome, being paved throughout, and surrounded on
every side by lofty and picturesque buildings. In the centre is a
quaint old boat-shaped fountain, called Fontana della Barcaccia, its
brown slippery sides being tinted with mosses, confervae, and other
growths of wet surfaces. It was designed by Bernini to commemorate the
stranding of a boat on the spot after the retiring of the great flood
of 1598, which overwhelmed most of Rome. On the site of the Piazza di
Spagna, there was, in the days of Domitian, an artificial lake, on
which naval battles took place, witnessed by immense audiences seated
in a kind of amphitheatre on the borders of the lake. As an object of
taste the boat-shaped fountain is condemned by many; but Bernini
adopted the form not only because of the associations of the spot, but
also because the head of water was not sufficient for a jet of any
considerable height. Quaint, or even ugly, as some might call it, it
was to me an object of peculiar interest. Its water is of the purest
and sweetest; and in the stillness of the hot noon its bright sparkle
and dreamy murmur were delightfully refreshing. No city in the world
is so abundantly supplied with water as Rome. You hear the lulling
sound and see the bright gleam of water in almost every square. A
river falls in a series of sparkling cascades from the Fountain of
Trevi and the Fontana Paolina into deep, immense basins; and even into
the marble sarcophagi of ancient kings, with their gracefully
sculptured sides, telling some story of Arcadian times, whose nymphs
and naiads are in beautiful harmony with the rustic murmur of the
stream, is falling a gush of living water in many a palace courtyard.
This sound of many waters is, indeed, a luxury in such a cli