Let us now go into the midst of the city and take our stand on the Capitoline Hill. From there we can easily “view the landscape o’er.” Beneath us, as we stand on this elevation, the city spreads wide away in all directions. We look out over a sea of red-tile roofs, above which rise hundreds of imposing palaces, of tall and stately mansions. Of church spires and cathedral towers there is no end. Yonder to the south is the Mausoleum of Augustus, a huge circular building with a low, flat dome of glass. After death the emperor was burnt. His ashes, which were here laid to rest, have long since been scattered to the four winds of heaven and the mausoleum is now used as a theatre. There, too, in the same direction, but beyond the Tiber, is the tomb of Hadrian, looking like an old castle perched high upon an uplifted rock. The unscrupulous Italians of the present have no respect for the dead of ancient days. Their desecrating hands have turned this tomb into a military stronghold—a citadel. What is fame? Once upon a time Augustus ruled the world. To-day the populace assemble in his mausoleum; there they wildly clap their hands, and, stretching their mouths from ear to ear, they shout aloud and grin like apes as they see the vile actor dancing over Caesar’s ashes. Hadrian, once adored as a God, is no longer respected. The half-paid soldiers of to-day have entered his very tomb; there they fight, drink and curse and play cards. If they could find it they would use his skull as a soup-dish or a billiard ball, and his thigh bones they would use for drum-sticks or as mallets to crack nuts! “Vanity of vanities, all is vanity!” Turning our eyes in a northwest direction, we see the Antonine column rising majestically above the red roofs. In close proximity to this column, we see the circular dome of that world-renowned Pantheon “looking heavenward with its ever open eye.” We leave the Capitoline Hill for a few minutes while we go to visit the Pantheon. It commands our respect. It was built almost a half century before the angel host visited the shepherds upon the plains of Bethlehem, and yet it is as perfect to-day as though it had been finished yesterday. It looks as if it might stand until Gabriel comes. It is the noblest structure that the old Romans bequeathed to posterity. Its massive walls and solid, which are twenty feet thick, rise to an immense height, and yet the dome, broad as it is high, towers 140 feet above the walls. The portico (110 feet wide and 45 feet deep) is borne by sixteen Corinthian columns of granite, thirteen feet in circumference and forty feet high.