Italy : 35. Caius Cestius

When I am inclined to be serious, I love to wander up
and  down  before  the  tomb  of  Caius Cestius.  The
Protestant burial-ground is there; and most of the little
monuments are erected to the young ; young  men  of
promise, cut off when on their travels, full of enthusiasm
full of enjoyment;  brides,  in  the bloom of their beauty,
on  their  first  journey ; or children borne from home  in
search  of  heath.  This stone was placed by his fellow-
travellers,  young  as  himself,  who  will  return  to  the
house of his parents without him ! that,  by  a  husband
or  a  father,  now  in  his  native  country.  His heart is
buried in that grave.
  It is a quiet and sheltered nook, covered in the winter
with  violets;  and  the  Pyramid,  that  overshadows  it,
gives it a classical and singularly solemn air.  You feel
an  interest  there,  a  sympathy you were not prepared
for.  You are yourself  in  a  foreign land;  and  they are
for  the  most  part  your  countrymen.  They  call  upon
you  in  your  mother-tongue ---  in  English --- in  words
unknown  to  a  native, known  only  to  yourselves: and
the tomb  of  Cestius, that  old majestic  pile,  has  this
also  in  common  with  them.  It  is  itself  a  stranger,
among strangers. It  has stood  there  till  the  language
spoken round about  it  has changed; and the shepherd,
born  at  the  foot,  can  read  its  inscription  no  longer.