Near this mount, the port is seen; vessels ascending the Tiber, from the sea, as far as this. But for the bridges, they might go even higher; though it would be without a sufficient object. We will now descend, and pursue our way homeward, along the foot of the Aventine Hill. In the portico of the convent church which we pass, you may see the arms and name of the patron cardinal, or the dignitary under whose protection the establishment has placed itself. This is the old system of patron and client continued to the present day; a system which belongs to aristocracy, and must exist, in some shape or other, wherever the strong and the weak are found in contact. I have heard of countries in modern Europe in which the tribute of the clients forms no small portion of the revenue of the patrons. In England itself, we have seen Indian Rajahs returning members to parliament by means of their gold; in France, the king’s mistresses, for a long time, had a monopoly of this species of power; and in several of the other great powers that have dependencies, I hear it whispered that the system still prevails to a great extent. In America, the clients are the nation; and the patrons the demagogues, under the name of patriots. If, however, our discontented, the salt of the earth in their own imagination, had a taste of the abuses of this hemisphere, they would gladly return to their own, bad as they are. When at Naples, I was told an anecdote of the good old King Ferdinando, which is in point. His generals were deliberating on a new uniform for the army, when the honest old prince, tired of the delay, and anxious to get at his game again, exclaimed—“Ah, Signori, dress them as you please, they will run away.” I do not repeat this because I believe the Neapolitans are cowards, for I think them traduced in this respect, but because it is with politics as in war, “dress men as you will, they are still that godlike-devil man.” Objects crowd upon us in too great numbers now, and we will ride into the Via Ripetta and dismount, leaving the rest for another excursion. LETTER XXIII. The Tiber.—Monte Mario.—Milvian Bridge.—Bridge of Nomentanus.—The Sacred Mount; Apologue of Menenius Agrippa.—City Walls.—Amphitheatre.—Santa Scala.—The Lateran.—Works of the Empire and the Republic contrasted.—The Coliseum.—Via Sacra.—The Capitoline Hill.—The Palatine.—Imperial Palace.—The Forum.—Arch of Septimius Severus.—Column of Phocas.—The Capitol.—Statue of M. Aurelius.—Columns of Trajan and Antoninus.—The Pantheon. In my last, I took you round the walls, an excursion I make weekly, for the road is excellent, and almost every foot of the way offers something of interest. We will now turn in another direction, which, if not so interesting as regards antiquities, may amuse you, by giving you better and more precise ideas of the region in which Rome stood nearly three thousand years since, and stands to-day.