This historic book may have numerous typos and missing text. Purchasers can download a free scanned copy of the original book (without typos) from the publisher. Not indexed. Not illustrated.1858 Excerpt: ... IX. THE MONK'S LAST WORDS.;SH-WEDNESDAY of the year 1649 bad cast its holy sadness over Rome. The merriment of the carnival, that most charming and most childish of all Italian customs, which the northern races have darkened with scandals and debaucheries, had given place to prayer and fasting, and the solemn words, "Memento, homo, quia pulvis es: et in pulverem reverteru." But at mid-day, in a large chamber overhanging the Tiber, five German artists might be seen sitting down to a jovial repast, which suited ill with the penitential day. The room in which they sat was one storey above the level of the river, which washed the foot of the house; three large windows opened upon the stream, now swollen and turbulent from the winter rains; and the artist to whom this apartment belonged could, without leaving his house, enjoy the quiet pleasure of angling. Peter Van Laar, such was the artist's name, had resided in Rome for sixteen years: Poussin, Claude Lorraine, and Sandrart, were of the number of his friends: he was ill-made, even a little deformed; the length of his arms and legs gave him some resemblance to a monkey, and his whole face was covered by enormous moustaches, of which he was extremely proud, and which, curling up on each side of his nose, seemed to threaten the skies. His reputation, however, as an artist, his never-failing spirits, and a certain coarse goodhumour which he possessed, made up in his companions' eyes for all his external defects. These companions, on the day in question, were Roelant and Claes Van Laar, his brothers, and John and Andrew Both, two celebrated painters of his own age: they were all disciples of Calvin. A little good sense and feeling might have taught them not openly to violate all the observances of the country which...