Oh, Mr. Bull, Room is raley a beautiful place.--We entered it by the Point of Molly, which is just like the Point and Sally at Porchmouth, only they call Sally there Port, which is not known in Room. The Tiber is not a nice river, it looks yellow; but it does the same there as the Tames does here. We hired a carry-letty and a cocky-olly, to take us to the Church of Salt Peter, which is prodigious big:--in the center of the pizarro there is a basilisk very high--on the right and left two handsome foundlings; and the farcy, as Mr. Fulmer called it, is ornamented with collateral statutes of some of the Apostates. There is a great statute of Salt Peter himself, but Mr. Fulmer thinks it to be Jew Peter, which I think likely too--there were three brothers of the same name, as of course you know--Jew Peter the fortuitous, the capillary, and toenails; and it is curos that it must be him, for his toes are kissed away by the piety of the religious debauchees who visit his shin and shrine--Besides, I think it is Jew Peter, because why should not he be worshipped as well as Jew Billy?--Mr. Fulmer made a pun, Lavy told me, and said the difference between the two Jew Billies was, that one drew all the people to the _sinagog_, and the other set all the people _agog to sin_--I don't conceive his meaning, which I am afraid is a Dublin tender. There was a large quire of singers, but they squeaked too much to please me--and played on fiddles, so I suppose they have no organs;--the priests pass all their time in dissolving sinners by oracular confusion, which, like transmogrification, is part of their doctoring--the mittens in the morning, and whispers at night, is just equally the same as at Paris. Next to Salt Peter's Church is the Church of Saint John the Latter end, where the Poop always goes when he is first made--there is another basilisk here covered with highro-griffins. I assure you the Colocynth is a beautiful ruin--it was built for fights, and Mr. Fulmer said that Hell of a gabbler, an Emperor, filled his theatre with wine--what a sight of marvels Mr. B. oh, so superb!--the carraway, and paring, and the jelly and tea-cup, which are all very fine indeed. The Veteran[10] (which I used foolishly to call the Vacuum till I had been there), is also filled with statutes--one is the body of the angel Michael, which has been ripped to pieces, and is therefore said to be Tore-so--but I believe this to be a poetical fixture:--the statute of the Racoon is very moving, its tail is prodigious long, and goes round three on 'em--the Antipodes is also a fine piece of execution.