And now, instead of going up to the Vatican, we will keep to the left, along the street, and by the hospital of the Spirito Santo, where the mortality of the patients is said to be one in three, but I suspect there are circumstances which make a comparison of this sort very fallacious; and to the gate now distinguished by the same name, which divides two parts of the city. It was begun by Michael Angelo, and never was finished, and probably never will be; what is built is in good character, but follows, I know not why, a curved line, when a straight one would have been better. We do not hence pursue our way at once by the long street called the Lungara, but turn up by Sant Onofrio, a church erected about the middle of the fifteenth century, where we see some frescos of Domenichino, worthy a better subject than the legend of St. Jerome; a beautiful Madonna by Leonardo da Vinci; and the tomb of Tasso. Here was also the tomb of Barclay, the author of the Argenis; and the tomb may still exist, but the stone which marked it is gone, because as the priest told me it was _roba spurca_. I do not know what he meant. We now return to the Lungara, a long street parallel with the Tiber, with some good houses, or as they are here called, palaces, amongst which are the Farnesina, which I have already described, and the Corsini, which really does deserve the name. It extends above 200 feet along the street, presenting on the principal story, a range of seventeen windows. Though large, it is not handsome. The entrance however, is truly magnificent. Passing through a spacious vestibule, we arrive at the foot of the staircase, which diverging to the right and left, returns in the centre, leaving space for a carriage-road underneath it. Here is an admirable collection of pictures, which I shall not pretend to enumerate, and a fine library, open to the public from nine to twelve, for a considerable portion of the year, but not much attended to of late, as perhaps you will conclude, when I tell you that it contains four copies of the first volume of Stuart’s Athens, and none of the second or third, and when a stranger goes, the librarians seem to perform their task grudgingly. Many things of this sort were at one time to be found in Rome, but none of them are now kept up with spirit. [Illustration: Sketch] Behind the palace is the Villa, for as I have already said, this term is applied in Italy to the ground, and not to the buildings. It is delightfully situated on the slope of the Janiculum, but all this part lies under a horrible imputation of mal aria.