recorded is that of the year 1349, mentioned by Petrarch in his letters. But the damage which he particularises was confined to comparatively modern buildings: the Tor de' Conti, the church of St. Paul, and the roof of the Lateran. The ruin of the south side of the Colosseum has indeed been sometimes attributed to this earthquake, but it does not appear that this opinion rests on any satisfactory authority. Tremendous overflowings of the Tiber are recorded in the time of Gregory the Great, in the seventh and eighth centuries, in 1345, in 1530, and other years. One which occurred in 791 is said to have carried away the Flaminian gate, and borne it a long way up the city.2 But inundations would act only on the low-lying parts of Rome near the Tiber, and even here they would be powerless against the nobler and more solid structures. The Mausolea of Augustus and Hadrian, the Pantheon, the theatre of Marcellus, the Janus near the Forum, and even the Arch of the Goldsmiths, and the two little temples now converted into the churches of Sta. Maria del Sole and Sta. Maria Egiziaca, which are of no great strength, and stand close to the brink of the Tiber, have survived all the overflowings of that river. Fire would doubtless be a more destructive element, and when the city was in a tolerably perfect state it doubtless occasioned some damage: but in the middle ages, when only the more solid monuments had survived, and when these had become in a great measure isolated from other buildings, the risk from fire would have constantly diminished.

We agree with Gibbon in thinking that the barbarians, however they may have plundered Rome, did comparatively little damage to its monuments. When we consider the state of their engineering science, how often they fruitlessly besieged Rome, where they seldom effected an entry except through treachery and stratagem, we may 1 Lib. x. ep. 2. Anastas. Vit. Adriani, § 356.

confidently infer that, even admitting they had been inclined to destroy the buildings, they would not have wantonly undertaken a task which, before the use of gunpowder, must have presented enormous difficulties and labour. The accusations against the barbarians on this head are for the most part couched in vague and general terms, and many of them are evident exaggerations: as when Pope Gelasius says that Alaric overturned the city;' when Cassiodorus, and after him Philostorgius, says that most of the wonders of Rome were burnt, &c.1 If we analyse these accounts, we find only three specific cases of damage to the ancient monuments: the burning of the house of Sallust near the Salarian gate by Alaric; the stripping of the gilt tiles from the Capitoline Temple by Genseric; and the destruction of the aqueducts by Vitiges. The second instance shows that the barbarian conquerors cared only for such objects as were of marketable value. The destruction of the aqueducts was a mere strategical act for the purpose of forcing the city to surrender; and though its effect was to cause the ruin of the baths, Vitiges cannot be justly charged with having maliciously sought that result.

We cannot agree with Gibbon in thinking that the most potent and forcible cause of destruction was the domestic hostilities of the Romans themselves.' This cause he finds in the custom of the nobles of erecting their towers on the ancient temples and arches. But bfcore the use of gunpowder, or even after, the attack of a fortress was very far from implying its total destruction. The fortification, if it could be taken at all, was generally carried by assault and scaling. The very number of these towers during the middle ages, not only in Rome, but also in other Italian cities, and indeed through a great part of

1 See the passages collected by Lord Broughton, Italy, vol. i. ch. 9. Lord Broughton has very carefully

investigated the causes of the destruction of Roman monuments.

6

At Rome,

Europe, proves how impregnable they were. the same fortresses seem to have remained in the possession of the same families for several generations. Hence, in spite of the battering-rams and enormous stones which we read of as being employed in this domestic warfare, we are inclined to adopt, what may seem a very paradoxical opinion, that the appropriation of the ancient monuments by the nobles, and the conversion of them into strongholds, rather tended, on the whole, to their preservation. It saved them from neglect and decay, from pillage and appropriation for the sake of their building materials, or the lime which they afforded. An argument in confirmation of this view may be adduced from the fact that nearly all the monuments which Gibbon mentions as having been converted into fortresses are among the best preserved. The triumphal monument of Julius Cæsar' is, as we have seen, no other than the arch of Septimus Severus. The arch of Titus is in a very tolerable state of preservation, although it formed part of the fortress of the Frangipani; and the same may be said of the Colosseum, which was included in their enceinte. The Colosseum probably came into the possession of the Frangipani in the eleventh century. In the following century we find them sheltering two popes in it, Innocent II. and Alexander III. About the middle of the thirteenth century, the Frangipani were driven out by the Annibaldi, who held it to 1312; after which it appears to have again become the property of the State. The defective portions of that building were not knocked down by battering-rams, but were most probably carried off peaceably and leisurely to build modern palaces and churches. Nothing can impress us with a stronger idea of this magnificent structure, than the fact that some of the finest palaces in Rome were built out of a small part of its materials. The arch of Antoninus, if it ever existed, has certainly disappeared, but in what manner is unknown.

The Mole of Hadrian, which has endured more sieges than any fortress in Rome, still subsists. The Septizonium of Severus, which, as Gibbon observes, was capable of standing against a royal army,' survived to be pulled down by Pope Sixtus V. The sepulchre of Metella, which the historian describes as having sunk under its outworks,' is still standing. Of the theatres of Pompey and Marcellus, the strongholds of the Savelli and Ursini families, the former has vanished, but a good portion of the latter exists. But the theatre of Pompey can hardly have been destroyed by a siege; and out of the whole list of monuments mentioned by Gibbon, there is not one the destruction of which can with any certainty be referred to such

a cause.

We are, therefore, inclined to think that to Gibbon's third cause, the use and abuse of the materials, the destruction of the Roman monuments must principally be referred. Under this head we include the destruction of the pagan temples and monuments through the zeal of the early Roman Christians, the conversion of them into churches by the emperors and popes, the appropriation of the materials either for building purposes, or for making lime; as well as the removal of buildings for what was considered to be the improvement of the city. We do not mean to deny that all the causes enumerated by Gibbon may, in a greater or less degree, have contributed to the destruction of the Roman monuments. We only mean to assert that by far the most destructive cause was the use, or abuse, of the materials, and that the Romans were thus the principal demolishers of their own city. This spoliation was at least as early as the time of Constantine, who robbed an Arch of Trajan to deck his own, and even carried off some objects to Byzantium. After the introduction of Christianity at Rome, the temples suffered through the neglect, as well as through the violence, of the Christians. An exulting passage of St.

Jerome paints in lively colours their state in the fourth century. 'The once golden Capitol is now squalid. All the Roman temples are covered with soot and cobwebs ; and an overflowing population rushes past the halfdemolished shrines to repair to the tombs of the martyrs.' The early Christians were prompted both by religion and economy to convert the pagan temples into churches. Fabricius, in his Description of Rome, mentions fifty-eight churches which had been erected on sites where temples had previously stood.2 In such cases even their very names were for the most part obliterated by those given to the new structures.

The process of spoliation, conversion, and destruction. was pursued by the emperors and the popes, and even by private individuals. We read of a widow making a present of eight columns, belonging to a ruined temple on the Quirinal, to the Emperor Justinian, for the church of Sta. Sophia at Constantinople. From this anecdote we may conclude that pieces of ground containing very considerable ancient ruins were liable to come into the possession of private individuals, who might dispose of the remains as caprice or cupidity dictated. The edicts frequently promulgated by the emperors forbidding the destruction of the ancient monuments show that the practice was common. The lead, iron, and bronze were frequently extracted by common pilferers; a practice which hastened the decay of the structures. The emperors always claimed a property in the public buildings of Rome, and in this respect the popes appear to have become their heirs. We have already mentioned that the sanction of Phocas was obtained for the conversion of the Pantheon into a Christian church. Amongst instances of spoliation by emperors and popes, we hear of Heraclius granting to