CHAPTER VITHE HEAVENLY CHOIR OF PERUGIA

PINTURICCHIO, SPELLO.

We could gladly have stayed much longer in this chapel, for the frescoes seemed to us finer specimens of Pinturicchio's work than anything we had seen at Perugia. In the sacristy is a beautiful Madonna by this painter. The mortuary chapel has a quaint pair of doors in perforated wood-work; near the west door we saw a curious squarebas-relief of ancient work, on two sides of it is carved an olive-tree, and on another side a man on horseback. It looked like an old burial urn.

The way was so steep for driving, that from the cathedral we walked on in search of the woman who had the keys of the church of San Andrea. She, however, being busy, handed us over to a young fellow with a face as lovely as Raffaelle's, and with those wonderful blue eyes, which have in them the glow of an Italian sky, not to be seen in more northern regions.

But at San Andrea, while we were looking at the Pinturicchio behind the high altar, a very courteous and intelligent priest came into the church. Seeing us, he kindly removed the cross which obstructed our view of the best part of the altar picture, the child San John the Baptist, who sits writing on his scroll at the feet of the Blessed Virgin. This figure is supposed to be Raffaelle's work. St. Francis and St. Lawrence are onone side, St. Andrew and St. Gregory on the other; the embroidery on St. Lawrence's vestments is wonderfully painted, but as a whole this picture is not nearly so good as the frescoes by the same master in the cathedral.

The priest pointed out to us a graceful arcade surrounding the front and ends of an altar. This was discovered some years ago, concealed beneath a much larger altar which had been placed above the chest containing the bones of San Andrea; he told as that when the bones were sought for, in order to remove them, the arcade was brought to light. The priest also showed us a fresco on the wall of the nave, and graphically related how he himself, only a few months before, had discovered it under the whitewash when the church was being cleaned for a festa. Who knows how many treasures still lie concealed on the church walls of these out-of-the-way towns; it must be owned, however, that the newly found fresco at Spello is notartistically a treasure, nor nearly as interesting as was the story of its discovery owing to its graphic telling.

From San Andrea our blue-eyed, gentle-spoken young guide led us to the top of the town, crowned by the deserted Capuchin convent. "They have sent all the brothers away," he said sadly; "there is but one left, and he may not live in the convent, he may only come up in the afternoon, and see the schoolboys play in the garden." There is a pathetic look about the deserted, peaceful old place. From the platform in front of it we enjoyed a splendid view; before us on one side was the ever-present Subasio, towering over all, and on the top of the hill behind stood Perugia, looking at this distance like some giant castle.

At our feet in the green valley was the amphitheatre of Spello; not so perfect as that at Fiesole, but with clearly defined tiers of grassed seats rising one above another.

Porta Augusta is another interesting gateway. We came slowly down the steep street, getting constant peeps, between tall, grey houses, of the blue mountains around us. At one of these breaks in the wall a group of peasants sat, some spinning, some idling, beneath a vine that stretched on a trellis from house to house, the light filtering through the leaves became a golden green before it fell on the merry souls in the by-street below. The men of Spello look fine, robust fellows, and the women are very tall and erect.

One handsome grey-haired dame met us as we came down the ladder-like street; she was spinning from a distaff in her hand. "Dio," she held it out to my companion, "che brutta lavoro!"

"Would that I could do it," was the prompt answer, and the old dame went off chuckling with delight.

PORTA AUGUSTA, SPELLO.

The little town is like an eyrie high up in the air, the houses nestling here and there for shelter behind the grey walls.

We saw so many bits by the way in Spello, that it seemed as if one might spend some pleasant days in such an exquisitely placed spot; but we could not spy out any possible lodging; and, after all, it is an easy distance by rail or carriage from Assisi or Foligno.

Coming home by train to Perugia, we travelled with a pleasant-looking Italian lady and her sad-faced husband. She also seemed sad, and constantly put her handkerchief to her eyes; we fancied she was affected by some deep sorrow, and felt sympathy for her. The train presently stopped at a station; her distress increased, she clasped her hands, and entreated her husband to get out of the carriage and see after the poor little "angiolo."

He gently refused, and at this she sobbed, and almost howled with anguish; then, burying her face in her handkerchief, she leaned back and refused to be comforted.

At the next station we heard thesharp yelping of a little dog, and then she cried out so loudly for the "povera bestia" that we began to understand. Seeing we were interested, she sat up, pocketed her handkerchief, and explained. "The officials have taken my dog from me, and have shut it up. Dio! the sweet angel would not hurt a soul," she said, with a fresh flow of tears; "its cries break my heart. It is a cruelty beyond belief."

At this her husband left the carriage, looking much ashamed of himself. When he came back he tried to pacify his still weeping wife.

"The dog is all right, cara mia," he said.

"Cara mia," however, would not listen, and she actually sobbed and cried all the way to Perugia, where we left her on the platform with her pocket-handkerchief rolled into a ball, and pressed close to her eyes.

POTS ATWINDOW.

We had greatly desired to see the façade of the Oratory built in honour of San Bernardino of Siena, and we went in search of it. Going past the cloisters of the cathedral, we traversed the street beyond them: on one side is a fragment of an old palace, on the other a quaint series of ancient arches, one within the other, full of striking effects of light and shade.

A street descends steeply from this portal. We noted here, and in many of the old house-fronts, carved brackets, for holding flower-pots, built out from the walls, their grey stone making apleasant contrast to the brilliant red and orange of the flowers blossoming in pots placed within these hoary receptacles. We sometimes saw metal rings instead of stone brackets fastened into the wall, so as to hold a flower-pot.

A wealthy Englishman, staying in our hotel, became so enamoured of the quaint effect created by these stone brackets, that he told us he was resolved to transport some of them to the front wall of his newly-built London dwelling. He went to the owner of a house possessing several of the brackets, and offered him a round sum for a couple of them. The owner professed himself delighted with the offer; he would most willingly gratify the English Signor's fancy.

VIA SANT' AGATA.

"The Signore Inglese must, however, understand," he said, with a twinkle in his heavy-lidded dark eyes, "that these articles are not individual,—they are the same as the nose on the face, fixtures. To possess the brackets, the Signore Inglese must purchase the entirefront of the Palazzo, it is built all in one piece." This was too much for even an English collector; he was obliged to quit Perugia without acquiring even one of the much-desired brackets.

As we went along, we saw, outside the door of an old grey house, a pretty, ragged, fair-haired child, jumping and dancing on her little bare feet, chattering, as it seemed, to the doorpost. She was trying to reach the knocker, and was talking merrily to the flies on the wall, by way of amusement while she waited.

Near the Church of S. Agata we inquired for the house of Perugino, but this Via de' Priori so winds and twists that we were told we were too far north, so we turned at a sharp angle, and after a little came to a silent open space in front of a church, the Chiesa Nuova.

Down an arched passage close by, and up a side street on the right, we reached Via Deliziosa; in this Perugino's house is marked by a tablet. Thereis nothing special in the appearance of the dwelling; the hilly street in which it stands is grass-grown, and weirdly silent.

We went back again to seek for San Bernardino, and descended into a very old quarter of the city, the projecting claw which on this side overlooks the deep valley below Porta Susanna, and forms one point of the Cupa. We had to pass by the last remaining fortress of the nobles, the tall brick Torre degli Scalzi; behind this are remains of the Etruscan wall.

Close by we saw another church, Madonna di Luce, a good example of Renaissance work, gay with a scarlet and gold curtain, in readiness for to-morrow's festa; then, by a quaint little street with flights of brick steps leading down into most picturesque side-turnings, we came in sight of a small house, its grey stone balcony screened from the sunshine by a vine-wreathed pergola.

MADONNA DI LUCE.

In a few minutes we reached the convent of San Francesco, beside which isthe matchless façade of the chapel or oratory of San Bernardino of Siena.

FAÇADE OF SAN BERNARDINO.

The detail of this façade is even more beautiful than we had expected; the colour of its rosy marbles and terra-cotta adds warmth to the exquisite sculptures. These seemed to us finer, both in design and execution, than any Della Robbia work we had seen. We were glad to find this opinion endorsed by Mr. Perkins in his Tuscan Sculptors. The façade is the work of Agostino Ducci or Gucci, of Florence.

ANGEL, SAN BERNARDINO.

A circular arch, almost as wide as the façade, surmounts two square-headed entrance doors; these are surrounded by delicately carved ornament in low relief. Above the door is a frieze, on which are represented events in the life of San Bernardino; over it, in the centre of the tympanum, which is deeply recessed within the arch, is a Vesica, formed by tongues of flame containing a figure of the saint, said to be the best existing likeness of him. Four flying angels placed diagonally on either side of the Vesica seem to float as they offer their musical sacrifice of praise and thanksgiving. Six of them are playing various instruments; the expressionin each countenance is varied. Some of the faces are very lovely, especially the two praying with uplifted heads; the others seem to be chanting hymns of praise to the music of their respective instruments. The disposition of the angels' robes is perfect; its studied grace reminded us of Lord Leighton's drapery, the whole effect being as artistic as it is original.

HEADS OF CHERUBIM, SAN BERNARDINO.

Filling up the rest of the tympanum, so as to make a background to the angels, there are the quaintest heads of cherubs cradled in lovely wings, carved in full relief. Some of these heads are missing, but those which remain are exquisite studies of baby faces, each with its own special expression, some roguish, others sweet and loving; one of them seems to suppress a sob. There is infinite variety among them; and all are so very human that they are doubtless transcriptsfrom fifteenth-century Perugian babies.

ANGELS, SAN BERNARDINO.

Winged creatures are carved in the spandrels of the arch; and slightly below on either side is an angel within an arched niche, over which is a pediment, the mouldings and soffits showing delicately sculptured ornament; they are repeated below, and there are still other angels of the Heavenly Choir, playing musical instruments; these are on the broad pilasters that support the arch; some are in pairs, with very beautiful faces. The arrangement of their draperies is especially remarkable.

ANGEL PLAYING, SAN BERNARDINO.

In all these figures and faces, besides the beauty of expression, there is a marvellous mingling of quaintness and grace; they are so life-like that one almost listens for the sound of their instruments, in meet accompaniment to their chants, or to the hymns ofthe cherubs, who above and beside them are singing a chorus of praise. The Oratory is surmounted by a pediment, and in its tympanum we again find angels and cherubs. On the fringe of the pediment are the carved words—

AUGUSTA PERUSIA MCCCCLXI.

The illustrations help the reader's appreciation of this gem of Perugia; mere words can only sketch, without giving an adequate idea of its beauty.

The authorities of the city were eager to show their appreciation of the wonderful reformation effected in its morals by the preaching of San Bernardino; only a few years after his death, the building of this beautiful memorial was begun, and seems to have been completed about 1462.

Bernardino's father was governor of Massa; in the year 1380, when Saint Catherine died in Siena, the future preacher was born in the little town.Early left an orphan, he was tenderly reared by three aunts, all excellent women. He, unlike his great prototype, seems not to have shared the fashionable vices of other youths of the period; he was from an early age bent on following, so far as he could, the example left him two hundred years earlier by Saint Francis of Assisi.

He spent some time in that convent of Fiesole which educated Fra Angelico and others, ardent to revive in their generation the work of St. Francis, which had suffered eclipse. Various reasons have been given for this, chief among them being the pagan tendency of the Renaissance teaching, and also the frequent visitations of plague, which seem almost to have emptied the convents, sweeping off the monks and nuns who gave up their lives to tend the sick in hospitals. In most of the Italian states and cities the descendants of devout Christians had become fierce and brutal, as unrestrained in appetiteas they were murderous and lawless in deeds. Some of these have already been narrated. Princes and nobles strove to surpass the citizens in evil-doing by the hideous tragedies they enacted. This had been especially the case for many years in Perugia, whose inhabitants had come to be designated by the epithet "ferocious": they were so given up to every sort of crime.

Bernardino was deeply stirred by the evil report that reached him from all parts of the country; he had already been received into the Minor Conventual Order of San Francis, and had signalised his courage by nursing and ministering to the plague-stricken inmates of the hospital in Siena. This had injured his health, but he gladly obeyed the commission given by his superior, to journey through a certain part of Italy, preaching as he went.

Already the evangelising movement was in the air: in France, a Spaniard, San Vincent Ferrier, had reaped a bountifulharvest of souls. Bernardino determined by God's help to evangelise his country, and to rescue souls from evil by the winning power of love. He decided to begin his crusade in Umbria, in the powerful city of Perugia, so notorious for the crimes of its bloodstained nobles and the frivolity and vanity of their women.

Bernardino lodged in a convent outside the city gate, and went every morning to preach in the Piazza Pubblico. Crowds had flocked to hear his first sermon, but he had a consciousness that this was mere excitement, and that the souls of his listeners were yet to be won. One day he told his congregation that he proposed before long to show them the Evil One. This announcement sent the multitude crazy with excitement; the throngs of his listeners were doubled. But for some days after Bernardino preached only in an ordinary fashion.

Still the people believed he would keep faith with them, and each daybrought a larger crowd of expectant listeners. At last, one morning, Bernardino said, "I am now going to fulfil my promise; I will show you not one devil only, for there are several here." Then, raising his voice, "Look at one another, you will each see Satan in your neighbour's face; every one of you does that Evil One's bidding." He then pointed out seriously, and with much pathos, the sins that reigned among them, and implored his hearers to renounce their evil practices. The effect of his words was wonder-striking. Families who had lived in hatred of their fellow-citizens for more than a generation, hurried forward, and, clasping the hands of their once-detested foes, begged forgiveness for wrongs committed; in more than one instance, with halters round their necks, they besought pardon for the evil they had wrought. Bernardino saw that the devotion of the city was roused, and, turning to the women, he commandedthem to cause two huge fires to be lighted on the Piazza.

"Set a pattern to your men," he exclaimed; "prove the reality of your penitence; cast into the flames the gauds by which Satan tempts you to ensnare mankind to their ruin; bring hither your cosmetics, your perfumes, your false tresses, and the garlands with which you deck them, your sumptuous robes, all the vanities you possess, and cast them into the flames."

Sobbing and weeping, the women rushed off to obey him; they soon returned laden with the vanities denounced by the preacher, and, like the Florentines many years later, they cast their prized adornments into the huge fires.

An old chronicler relates that one noble dame cherished a long false tress of singular beauty, which had always commanded admiration; she felt that this would prove a worthy offering. Taking it from its casket, she was aboutto hurry with it to the Piazza; she again looked at it.

No, she could not make the sacrifice, the tress was too lustrous, too lovely; more than all, it became her so rarely. Her heart failed her. She put it back in the casket, with a smile of contempt at her own superstition; she was closing the lid, when suddenly the beauteous tress sprang up and struck her violently on the cheekbone. She cried out with pain and terror; then, forcing the temptation into the casket and closing the lid, she fled back to the Piazza, and flung the treasured lock into the flames.

For a while after this famous preaching, peace and devotion returned to the hill-city; then came sad outbreaks and dissensions, and Bernardino, hearing the disturbing news, returned to Perugia. He exhorted his former penitents to seek after the grace and the love which had once been granted them, and at the close of the year 1425 he once more leftthem in peace one with another; while he went to preach elsewhere in Umbria, and finally to Gubbio, to Viterbo, and to Orvieto.

Two years later, when preaching in Siena, he held up the conversion of the people of Perugia as an example to be followed by the Sienese.

The most remarkable church in Perugia is the church, at the end of the southern point of the city, attached to the convent of San Pietro; below it is the gate named after San Costanzo, said to have been the first Bishop of Perugia. On the opposite side of the way from the convent wall is a pleasant public resort, shaded by trees, called Passeggiata Pubblica. From this point, looking down the steep road, one gets a delightful view of the near valley and distant Apennines, framed in by the arch of Porta Costanzo. This view goes by the name of La Veduta. La Veduta and a lovely country walk beyond the gate are associated with the memory of thataccomplished artist and delightful companion, Lord Leighton. He dearly loved the old hill-city; in its delightful quiet he used to write his lecture for the Royal Academy students. One of his favourite walks was to go out by the Porta Costanzo, and along the lovely lanes beyond it, grown over with honeysuckle, wild gourd, and an abundance of wild myrtle.

The ancient church of San Pietro, with its very picturesque exterior and campanile, serves as a conspicuous landmark in the country over which it gazes. It is said to be the oldest church in Perugia, and to be built on the site of an Etruscan temple; it was certainly in old days the first cathedral. Built by Pietro, a saintly abbot of the monastery in the tenth century, it seems to have remained for a long period almost untouched; in the fourteenth century the campanile was considered one of the wonders of Italy. A century later it was restored and decorated with richRenaissance work, some of which is very fascinating and interesting. Then came a warlike abbot, resolved to convert the very salient tower of San Pietro into a fortress to overawe the surrounding country; and also to use it as a means of defence against the ever-turbulent people of Perugia, and the despots who were always quarrelling among themselves in order to attain supreme power in the city.

LA VEDUTA, PERUGIA.

The campanile was still further injured by Pope Boniface the Ninth, who also wished to construct an ordinary fortress on the site of the beautiful tower. Finally, the monks rebuilt it at a great cost. It was then struck by lightning, and severely damaged. For a long period of time the injuries caused by lightning were so frequent that it was feared the entire building would suffer ruin; then at last the idea of a lightning conductor suggested itself. This saved the campanile, and it has since remained in its present condition.

We went up the steps in the convent wall, and entered the old church of San Pietro from the courtyard, by a doorway with a deeply carved heading in marble. The interior is at once rich and fascinating, and every subsequent visit we made to it revealed many treasures.

Some of the Perugino pictures in the sacristy are worth examination, but the large altar-piece he painted for this church was carried away to Paris by Napoleon Bonaparte. The choir books can be seen here, illuminated by the monks of San Miniato, near Florence. There are several pictures in the church; in one of the aisles is a painting by the early Umbrian master, Benedetto Bonfigli. The ancient, dark grey columns on either side of the nave are much older than the church, having been brought here from the curious old church at Porta San Angelo, near the most northern gate of Perugia. We had already seen sixteen of thesecolumns in the ancient round church; they are supposed to date from a very early period. The altar tomb of the Baglioni, by Fieado, is in San Pietro; but the most remarkable feature of this church is its choir. The stalls and their seats are full of exquisitely carved wood-work, and the doors at the east end are marvellous specimens of intarsia work. The sacristan shows them with great pride, and then opens the doors which lead on to the balcony behind.

Below us we see a very lovely picture: the fertile valley and its surroundings of richly-tinted hills, while in front is Assisi, clinging to the side of rugged Monte Subasio. It is said that three citizens of Perugia escaped by means of this balcony from the Pope's Swiss guards, when, less than fifty years ago, the Swiss forcibly took possession of the convent. The delicate work of the eastern doors was executed by Fra Damiano of Bergamo; it is singularly beautiful; perhaps the finding of Mosesin the bulrushes is one of the most curious subjects depicted.

The choir seats and stalls were done by Damiano's brother, Stefano da Bergamo. They are worth a very careful examination, for, besides the intarsia on the backs and seats, and the fine carving of the poppy-heads, notable both for subject and execution, there are, between each stall, wonderful and beautifully-modelled creatures. Now we see a beast like a crocodile, and next it a harpy; then an elephant, a dolphin, a sphinx, and so on; an infinite variety, almost every creature is different, and the carving of each is most artistic.

We saw many treasures in the church, before we went out into the cypress-bordered garden of the convent, and again enjoyed the lovely view from the top of its high wall,—the view which wearied Popes and other great and jaded personages have taken pleasure in gazing at when they came to Perugia for refreshment.

An intelligent-looking priest showed us the garden. He said it was kept in order by the boys belonging to the convent. This formerly sheltered a reformatory for lads sentenced to prison for their first offence. It is now, I believe, used as an Agricultural College. We had previously noticed the reformatory boys at work on the olive fields outside the town gates, and had admired the picturesque effect of their blue uniforms and straw hats against the silver grey of the leafy background.

They had then come trooping into the cloisters, and on close inspection they did not look so interesting as we had thought them; some of them, however, had simple, honest faces, and as they passed into the cloister they smiled and raised their hats to the Fra. Most of the bigger fellows had an ugly scowl, and went in with bent heads, without any greeting.

The Fra told us the lads behaved fairly well; his trouble was to findsuitable employment for them when they were discharged from the reformatory. He said he greatly approved of English laws, especially in regard to the working class. "The English are so good to foreigners," he said.

He asked us what would be the cost in London of a working-man's board and lodging. We told him that we had in England already too many boys of this sort, for whom it was difficult to find employment; we, however, gave him an average of the expenses he inquired about. This seemed to alarm the good Padre; with lifted hands he said, "Such a plan would prove far too costly, it would teach the lads expensive habits of living." But he thanked us courteously for our information. When we left the convent garden we stood again enjoying the view over the lovely valley, under a glorious sunset which glowed on the distant hills. It seemed to us that splendid sunsets were another and special charm of Perugia.

We had meant this evening to visit the Etruscan sepulchres of the Volumnii, discovered only about sixty years ago, and within a walk of the San Costanzo gate; but San Pietro, even in this short visit, had proved such an interesting study, that we saw we must defer our walk to the ancient tomb.

We were, however, told that, without much adding to the length of our walk, we should considerably increase its charm, if, instead of passing out by the Porta Costanzo, we turned aside by the Porta San Pietro, or Romana, as it is called, and quitted the city by the little gate at the bottom of the descent. This is indeed a delightful walk under the old grey walls, and from it one has a perfect view over the lovely country and the purple hills.

GIRL'S HEAD.

A few days later, as we went along a lane, with grassy flower-pied banks, and with purple hills as background to the sunlit glory which surrounded us, we recognised the delightful landscape so frequently used by Perugino. The way was rather long, but there was more in it to interest than to tire us. We at last arrived at the dark descent beside the road, which forms the entrance to the sepulchre of the Volumnii. Many years ago there was supposed to be a necropolis existing in this hill, and on excavation several small cells were discovered. In more recent years an ox was seensuddenly to stumble on the hill above, and to be unable to rise. Going to help it, beneath the hole into which the creature had thrust its foot a subterranean arch was revealed, and subsequent excavation brought to light the wonderful, long-closed tombs of the Etruscan Volumnii.

We went down some rugged steps to the mouth of the gloomy cavern, and found ourselves in a dark passage-way, with stone benches on either side. The weird, mysterious atmosphere of the Etruscan vault is indescribable. Several chambers or cells, in this underground house of the departed, branch out on either side of the dark vaulted passage, but we saw them in such semi-darkness, that by the light of a single torch it was very difficult to make out details. As we went along the dark vault, our guide raised his torch on high. In a moment we seemed to be in an enchanted cavern, where the silent inhabitants were guarded by strange forms; gorgon heads,owls, and serpents stared at us from roof and walls. We could fancy that, as we passed by, the snake heads seemed to dart from the walls, to bristle and hiss; and the grand Medusa-faces overhead looked down on us full of dire warning, when at the end of the passage we entered the tomb of the Etruscan family. Here are the Volumnii sitting in a group, realistic terra-cotta figures guarding their urns, just as they have been guarding them for perhaps two thousand years.

Aruns Volumni, the father, reclines on his sarcophagus, which is guarded by two furies; on his left his daughter sits on her urn, and on his right is his son. Their faces look dull and uninteresting, but they seem aware of their own importance. The fourth figure of the group, seated next the son of Aruns, is Veilia, his fair young wife. She has an exquisite face, and one is not surprised to learn that she died young; she must have felt isolated amongsuch unsympathetic family surroundings. Her face and those of the majestic solemn-eyed Medusas are the most interesting treasures of the tomb. All the faces and figures of the Volumnii are intensely life-like; Aruns himself has a purse-proud expression.

Coming out into welcome fresh air and daylight, we saw that the entrance to the tomb was fringed by a profusion of maidenhair fern, growing between the blocks of travertine. A weird-faced child, with dark eyes shining through a tangle of dusky hair, showed a brilliant gleam of white teeth as she offered us tufts of this fern ruthlessly torn out by its roots. She seemed the uncanny guardian of the place.

Another walk with an outlook less splendid than that of the Veduta and others, yet with a special charm of its own, was a great favourite with us. To reach it one has to go past the interesting old church of San Ercolano, instead ofturning up beside it, till some iron gates are arrived at; outside these, the way was blocked on the right, so we turned leftwards, and followed the course of the picturesque old wall; ancient houses rise above it, and the wall itself is crowned with flowers in pots and stone vases. Here and there we saw vine-wreathed loggias; then, at the far end of a sudden turn, there came into view Monte Luce, with its old church and convent, and grand blue hills rising beyond. I believe the church is really called Santa Maria Assunta; it is the bourne of a yearly pilgrimage at the time of the great cattle fair, which takes place on the green down across the road.

We passed through the open convent gate into a quaint and peaceful scene, a small grassed quadrangle closed in by a wall and the sacristan's house; facing us was the west front of the church, with a large window under its low gable. The church wallitself is checkered with squares of red and white stone. The two green doors, under a double arch, were almost as vivid in colour as the lizards basking between the stones. On the right was a low and singularly massive campanile; its huge blue and white clock-face giving a peculiar quaintness to the place. There is a projecting side chapel below, with slit-like windows; beyond this is a cloister walk, its low tiled roof supported by solid white-washed piers. This cloister goes on to the angle where the convent buildings adjoin the church, and extends from this angle along the southern and eastern sides of the little green square to the entrance gates; on one side is an upper storey, reached by a flight of bricked steps.

A woman, sad and quiet-looking, but with a sweet expression on her olive-hued face, showed us the church, and the little choir of the Sisters behind the high altar. She told us how the nuns from the suppressed and desecratedconvent of Santa Giuliana "had been driven to take refuge in this blessed house of Santa Maria Assunta." She added with a deep sigh, "Who knows what will happen next?"

It seemed sad that such a peaceful home as this should be threatened.

A few steps beyond this church brought us to a low wall; here we sat and enjoyed the distant view framed in by tall trees. It differs from any other point in Perugia, in having a more varied foreground. This is broken up by green hills, with bright-looking country houses nestling among gardens and orchards, and surrounded by dark trees; behind are the ever-beautiful Apennines; between, in mid distance, is that mingling of colour created by the luxuriant vegetation of this fertile valley. It was varied on this evening by cloud-shadows cast on its mellowed sunny glow.

While we sit enjoying all this beauty, the Angelus sounds in sweet harmonywith the scene; three, four, five, then one long drawn-out solemn note.

From the frequent campaniles the bells call one to another, and give deep-toned musical response across the green hollows that vandyke themselves up the walled hillside into the town; the brilliant sunset showing in bold relief the salient balconies of a Palazzo not far away.

We came back into the city by another gate, and lost our way. Finally, however, we turned up a very steep street, and then down flights of steps by the church of San Fiorenzo. There is here a curious old wall with a garden above it; a workman told us it was the curate's garden.

In the lingering gleams of sunlight, oleander blossoms overhead were glowing masses of colour against the grey stone wall.

The Oratory of San Bernardino is near to gardens, orchards, and drying grounds. Beyond the convent of San Francesco the ancient wall goes northward, and then turns east towards the Porta Augusta, but this afternoon we went southwards.

A short walk down a steep narrow street beneath an archway led us out of the low-browed passage of the Etruscan Porta Susanna on to the wall itself. This rises up directly from La Cupa, as the indentation which the valley here makes is called. The wall follows the curves of the hills, always keeping close to the edge of the descent, and, as I have already said,where an angle is sharply turned a bold round tower stands out sentinel-wise against the blue sky.

PORTA SUSANNA

Below the wall the fertile dell was literally covered with vines, olives, fig and mulberry trees; plots of blue-green cabbage and shining lettuce covered bare spaces of brown earth. In winter a torrent flows through the Cupa.

To-day the long range of hill on the left looked red-brown, variegated with green and grey; behind its shoulder a more distant mountain showed opal; tall regular houses of the ancient city rose one behind another on the right, and the last brick tower, that of the Scalzi, rose above them all.

The wall makes here an inward angle before it goes out far away westward to another point of the star-shaped hill, and here the view becomes more beautiful. The outlines of the mountains cross, and reveal through the openings yet another ridge behind, and this farther ridge looks a delicate opal, while thesunbeams become less powerful. On the right the hills stretched in two purple undulating lines, between them a rosy vapour moved slowly, deepening in tint as it rose towards the orange-coloured clouds. Masses of grey now sent up warnings from below, and partly obscured the rosy vapour; southward the grey took a lurid tinge, and across it floated pale phantom-like cloudlets. The far-off hill, as we looked southward, had become a purple-blue, while the town in the space between climbed upwards in terraces, the houses bowered in vines and garden blossoms.

This is not so extended a prospect as some others that are to be had from the walls of Perugia, but I am inclined to consider it one of the most interesting, from the double view it offers of the town and of the quaint formation of the steep-sided, triangular valley, with its mysterious depth of vegetation below.

We kept along the wall for somedistance, then our road led us away from it between old stone garden walls, supports for vines and figs, and brilliant orange begonia blossoms which peep above them. Quaint side-streets looked tempting on our left. Going up one of these, we found a portion of Etruscan wall with an opening in it of the same period of stone-work.

The street beyond mounted steeply to where a brick arch spanned it: on one side a flight of broken steps led up to a tall house above the wall; a loggia, corbelled out from between the house and the grey pointed arch, was filled with charming foliage and flowers; an iron crane projected from the balcony over a brick water-tank beside the broken steps. The variety of form and colour was most vivid against the shadow within the arch; its two projecting imposts were massive slabs of travertine, and beside one of these, gleaming out of the shadow, was a little shrine with a nosegay of freshly-gathered flowers.

In and out of narrow streets, up and down quaint steps, we reached at last the Ivory Gate, the Etruscan Porta Eburnea,—that very quaintly-placed old gate, from which a steep road goes down into the country.

We had here an extended view of the wall, curving grandly forward to a projecting point, and completely obscuring all view of La Cupa; the point itself crowned by a most picturesque round tower, standing out vividly from its background of purple hills.

PORTA EBURNEA

The road from Porta Eburnea looked attractive. On this special day it was thronged with peasants going home from market. Some of the women stopped outside the gate; taking off their boots, they slung them over their shoulders, or put them in their baskets; then, with brown bare feet and legs, they went down the steep dusty road with rapid, swinging steps. Most of these bare-footed women wore handsome coral necklaces; and yet shopkeepersasked from eighty to three hundred francs for a string of these beads. Just outside the gate a man and several boys were playing some game with walnuts.

OUTSIDE PERUGIA.

Coming home one evening from the twisting way behind the cathedral, we reached a lofty arched opening with "Via Appia" printed on one side. The arch itself has a house above it; a second arch within, with grey projecting imposts, shows a broad steep descent,—a long flight of shallow brick steps, so undecided as to the course they shalltake that they curve first one way and then another, before they reach the bottom of the descent.

Some way down, a viaduct supported by three broad arches comes out beside the stone-edged brick steps, while transversely right and left are stone walls; that on the right is high and massive, and from its grey-green stones were hanging long garlands of white-blossomed caper plant.

Beyond, just before the wall joins some old stone houses, we saw a little pergola covered with the tender green of the vine. From the deep hollow into which the steps descend the town rises up in front, and as we go down, the old houses on our left, with gardens and orchards, stand at a great height above us, looking black against the glowing sky.

VIA APPIA AND TOWN.

From this viaduct is an extended view over many curious roofs covered with semicircular tiles, frosted with gold and silver lichens and patches of green moss.First comes a series of gardens, green with vines and fig-trees; beyond these, among the grey houses and trees, appears the great modern building of the University. Beyond it is the silk factory of Count Faina; behind all are the purple hills.

Instead of crossing the viaduct we went down to the bottom of the seemingly interminable brick staircase, catching sight through the viaduct arches on the left of a succession of pictures: cottages backed by trees with children in front at play, all in a vivid effect of light and shade, framed in by the low, broad arches.

This brought us finally on to a road leading back into the town, spanned on the left by another broad arch of the viaduct. Through this a group of feathered acacias glowed golden-green in the sunshine against picturesque houses backed by the hills.

The pointed arch on the right looks quaint, from the contrast of its hugegrey stones and small many-shaped windows, mostly open; some of them gay with scarlet flowers; one window had a faded green curtain, drawn half across; a bird-cage hung outside it. Behind the curtain the olive-hued face of a woman peeped out.

Through the arch was a strong effect of golden light and blue-purple shadow; while we looked behind, there came a donkey, driven by a merry-eyed, bare-footed lad, dragging a cart heaped with brushwood. A little way on along the road is the mosaic pavement discovered several years ago in some Roman baths. The pavement is in singularly good preservation, and the design is very remarkable. Orpheus, a colossal black figure on a white ground, sits with outstretched arm, while a lion, a tiger, an elephant, a hippopotamus, stags, a rhinoceros, a horse, birds of various kinds, a snail, a monkey, a tortoise, and other creatures are drawn towards him from all sides.

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