Beyond the little valley which succeeds, we find a spur of similar limestone, resting on tufo. We cannot distinctly see this pass under the mass of lava, or peperino, or tufo, which forms the next hill, but from its position we may suppose this to be the case. This mass forms a precipice perhaps in some parts 100 feet high, immediately above the road, which here keeps the valley; it exhibits considerable tendency to perpendicular fissures. The bottom of this bed is exhibited in three different places; in the first it rests upon a calcareous gravel, like that of the opposite hill; in the second, on a softish uniform sandstone, which, whether it be volcanic or not, I cannot tell; in the third, on a soft peperino, very different from the mass above, or from anything else in the neighbourhood. In all these, the line of separation is perfectly distinct. A grotto, the tomb of the family of Naso, usually called the tomb of Ovid, is worked in the sandstone. It is adorned with ancient paintings on stucco. A little farther are some other tombs of considerable magnitude; one of them appears to have been a pyramid, or cone, on a square basement. Another was circular externally, with twelve niches, or perhaps eleven niches and a door, and a Greek cross within. A third exhibits merely foundations, nearly level with the plain. Still farther is another pyramidal tomb, which I did not visit. After satisfying our curiosity here, we return by the same road to the Ponte Molle; afterwards keeping the right bank of the river, and passing through some vineyards still more to the right, we ascend the hill to the Villa Madama. The building, which has never been finished, presents its flank to the side of the hill; a deep loggia in the garden front, has been ornamented with paintings by Giulio Romano, who is also the reputed architect of the villa. This deep loggia, too complicated perhaps in its form, is nevertheless very elegant, and the terrace garden beyond it offers a fine view of the Campagna. All is now neglected and forlorn. Between this and Rome we may cross Monte Mario, so called, not from the Roman general, but from a villa on the summit, belonging at one time to a certain Mario Mellini. This is the highest hill in the immediate neighbourhood of Rome, and a noble terrace shaded with cypresses commands a magnificent view both of the city and country, from the Apennines to the Mediterranean. If instead of following the road from this place to Rome, we keep a little to the right, we shall find ourselves in the Valle d’ Inferno. Whether this has its name from the mal aria, or from its being infested with robbers, I shall not undertake to decide. It certainly is not from the character of the scenery, which is that of a green secluded valley, winding between steep woody banks of small elevation. If it had not been for its botany I should never have visited it. We re-enter Rome by the Porta Angelica. [Illustration: