Whether we gaze on its exterior of faultless proportions--or on the internal arrangement, where perfect symmetry reigns;--whether we consider the glowing canvas--or the inspired marble,--or the rich mosaics;--whether with the enthusiasm of the devotee, we bend before those gorgeous shrines; or with the comparative apathy of a cosmopolite, reflect on the historical recollections with which that edifice--the focus of the rays of Catholicism--teems and must teem forever;--we must in truth acknowledge, that _there_ alone is the one matchless temple, in strict and perfect harmony with Imperial Rome. Gazing there--or recalling in after years its unclouded majesty--the delighted pilgrim knows neither shade of disappointment--nor doth he harbour one thought of decay. Where is the other building in the "eternal city," of which we can say thus much? Sir Henry Delmé had engaged a vettura, which was to convey them with the same horses as far as Florence. This arrangement made them masters of their own time, and was perhaps in their case, the best that could be adopted; for slowness of progress, which is its greatest objection, was rather desirable in George's then state of health. As is customary, Delmé made an advance to the vetturino, who usually binds himself to defray all the expenses at the inns on the road. The travellers dined early--left Rome in the afternoon--and proposed pushing on to Neppi during the night. When about four miles on their journey, Delmé observed a mausoleum on the side of the road, which appeared of ancient date, and rather curious construction. On consulting his guide-book, he found it designated as the tomb of Nero. On examining its inscription, he saw that it was erected to the memory of a Prefect of Sardinia; and he inwardly determined to distrust his guide-book on all future occasions. The moon was up as they reached the post-house of Storta. The inn, or rather tavern, was a small wretched looking building, with a large courtyard attached, but the stables appeared nearly--if not quite--untenanted. Sir Henry's surprise and anger were great, when the driver, coolly stopping his horses, commenced taking off their harness;--and informed the travellers, that _there_ must they remain, until he had received some instructions from his owner, which he expected by a vettura leaving Rome at a later hour. It was in vain that the brothers expostulated, and reminded him of his agreement to stop when they pleased, expressing their determination to proceed. The driver was dogged and unmoved; and the travellers had neglected to draw up a written bargain, which is a precaution absolutely necessary in Italy. They soon found they had no alternative but to submit. It was with a very bad grace they did so, for Englishmen have a due abhorrence of imposition.