“DEAR NADEJDA FILARETOVNA,--The last day in Rome compensated for all my troubles, but it was also rather fatiguing. In the morning I had to go in search of the Symphony (No. 4), which had been sent from Clarens. I inquired at the post office, at the station, at various other offices. Everywhere they received me politely, looked for the parcel, and failed to find it. Imagine my anxiety. If the Symphony had been lost, I should never have had the energy to rewrite it from memory. At last I requested that it should be diligently sought for, and--behold the parcel was discovered! It was a great comfort. “Afterwards I visited the Capitol with my brother. I found much that was interesting here and which touched me directly--for instance, the statue of the Dying Gladiator. I cannot say the same of the Venus of the Capitol, which still leaves me quite cold, as on my first visit. At two o’clock we went to the Palace of the Cæsars, and looked into the Villa Borghese as we passed, to see the collection of pictures. Here, too, I was capable of taking in some artistic impressions. One picture particularly attracted my attention--the Death of a Saint (Jerome, if I am not mistaken), by Domenicchino. But I must tell you frankly that I am no enthusiastic amateur of pictures, and I lack any profound insight into the subtleties of painting or sculpture. I soon get tired in the galleries. Among a number of pictures there are seldom more than two or three which remain firmly fixed in my mind’s eye; but these I study in every detail, and endeavour to enter into their spirit, while I run through the others with a superficial glance.... Besides the picture by Domenicchino, some of Raphael’s pleased me very much, especially the portraits of Cæsar Borgia and Sixtus V.[53] “The grandest, the most overpowering, of all the sights I saw was the Palace of the Cæsars. What gigantic proportions, what wealth of beauty! At every step we are reminded of the past; we endeavour to reconstruct it and the further we explore it, the more vivid are the gorgeous pictures which crowd the imagination. The weather was lovely. Every moment we came upon some fresh glimpse of the city, which is as dirty as Moscow, but far more picturesquely situated, and possessing infinitely greater historical interest. Quite close by are the Colosseum and the ruined Palace of Constantine.[54] It is all so grand, so beautiful, so rare! I am very glad to have left Rome under this ineffaceable impression. I wanted to write to you in the evening, but after packing I was too tired to move a finger.