c 
 
 iminlli 
 
 \ 
 
 
"" ld?S'',^^'^'iST!i^ SSScf^n" the Campagn. Fe,ic= in a Series of Le.te. 
 
 8t;o- tolish.c^ rnU ^. a; ^/, z. . London, Published by R. Ackermann, 1815 
 
 A very attractive book with beautiful plates. 
 
 Clifford E. King, I973. 
 
 [ENGELBACH fLe\vis,)] Naples and the Campagna Felice, in a Series of 
 Letters, addressed to a friend in England, in 1802, London, R. Ackermann. 
 
 8vo, 4-1-400 pp., 6 ff., col. aquatint frontis.. cnl. aquatint title with vignette iieu\ 14 col. 
 aquatint plates by Thomas Rowlandson and others. 2 hand-col. en^r. maps (1 fold.), 
 orig. blind-stamped orange cloth, spine gilt, t.e.g. 
 Abbey, Travel, 166. 
 
 Fine copy, in the original publisher's clolli. STS/cL 
 
'. Rctvhriui.:,'!! life .' c-,* .--ri/hi.' 
 
 i.ernr ^\u p.Ji'C 
 
 
 
 //^v/ ///r//' ■ 
 
 
NAPLES . 
 
 AivD rni: 
 
 ICAMPA^GNA 
 
 I Felice : 
 
 I N A 
 
 SliRItS OF LE ITERS 
 
 p r; R L r .s ii [■: r> a r k.ack i; l^ m 
 
 lOl .STRAND LONDON 
 
 Jmiie J1.M15 
 
/f1 
 
NAPLES 
 
 AND THE 
 
 CAMPAGNA FELICE. 
 
 IN A 
 
 SERIES OF LETTERS, 
 
 ADDRESSED 
 
 TO A FRIEND IN ENGLAND, 
 
 IN 1802. 
 
 JLonti0n; 
 
 PUBLISHED BY R. ACKERMANN, 101, STRAND. 
 
 1815. 
 
J. Diggctis, rriiitcr, St. Ann's Lane, Londan. 
 
PREFACE. 
 
 THE following Letters having been successively 
 inserted in "Ackermann's Repository of Arts", under 
 the title of " Letters from Italy", the proprietor of 
 that Miscellany, influenced, perhaps, by the opinion 
 of partial judges, felt desirous of publishing them in 
 a separate Volume. To this wish alone they owe their 
 appearance in the present form, the Author being too 
 conscious of the imperfections in his performance to 
 have of his own accord presumed to usher it into a more 
 extensive circulation, even with all the advantages of 
 embellishment which it has derived from the exertions 
 of the Publisher. 
 
 Some Apology may be due in regard to the fifteenth 
 Letter. Although the fanciful, yet direct, offspring of 
 an idea elicited by its predecessors, it certainly might 
 have been suppressed, agreeably to the original intention 
 of the writer, without injury to the historical or descrip- 
 tive part of the Work. But as that Letter had formed 
 
 a 
 
( 4 ) 
 
 a portion of the periodical publication, and as the pre- 
 sent notice renders it optional with the matter-of-fact 
 reader to peruse it, or not, it is hoped that its admission 
 among its more legitimate brethren will give no serious 
 
 offence. 
 
 X 
 
 THE AUTHOR. 
 
 Londo?i, 
 Ist June, 1815. 
 
'HN./'iih Alini-ir'i::iiil</l('ii/:iiMti^'K'^''l'<i'i'''''ri'i>ny,:i:im:s;ii)i,sir, 
 
TLite XVm 
 
 JGoHn sd'iJBroad Str'^&oUiBi iq' 
 
 (tyi'lii/i )','/ ■. IHTS, IOl^'>'lr,i/ul . 
 
NAPLES, 
 
 AND THE 
 
 CAMFAGMA FEJLICE. 
 
 Dear T. 
 
 LETTER I. 
 
 NATLns, April—, 1802. 
 
 -Y last was dated at Messina^ from whence 
 
 I sailed a week ago in the ; and in less than three 
 
 days we cast anchor in the beantiful bay of Naples. This 
 trip has almost removed my strong- aversion to maritime 
 conveyances; the weather was delightful^ the wind fair, the 
 accommodation on board comfortable^ and the attention 
 and hospitality of our worthy captain kind in the extreme. 
 
 We passed during the night, through the Faro of Mes- 
 sina, and the once formidable Straits of Scylla and Charyb- 
 dis, with all the unconcern and sang froid of true British 
 sailors. My classic fears had prompted me to read to the 
 captain the speech of Ilelenus to .-Eneas in the third Book 
 of Virgil, which he treated with sovereign contempt, de- 
 claring the venerable seer to be no better than an old wo- 
 man, and the whole story a d d h g. The event, 
 
 certainly, was by no means calculated to raise the Maronian 
 nautics in my estimation, and in some measure justified the 
 captain's blunt and severe sentence. 
 
 • B But 
 
But my fears were soon afterwards more seriously excited 
 by a strong sulphureous vapour, ^vllich pervaded every part 
 of the vessel, and induced me to believe it was on fire. I 
 instantly hurried from my cot; but on enquiry, learned, to 
 my great relief, tliat the smell which had alarmed me pro- 
 ceeded from iNIouut Stromboli, a burning volcano, then 
 about six miles distant. I did not regret the interruption 
 of my sleep, and all my fears were suspended in contemp- 
 lating, from the quarter-deck, the truly sublime spectacle 
 w hich the flames exhibited ; this you will easily credit when 
 I inform you, that even at so great a distance the objects on 
 board were illumined enough to cause a very perceptible 
 shadow. It is more than probable, that the whole space 
 between Mounts /Etna and Vesuvius forms connected re- 
 ceptacles of materials for subteraneous tire, and that those 
 mountains and Stromboli serve as occasional vomitories of 
 the raging element ; and I think it very probable, that by 
 these means the kingdoms of Naples and Sicily are in some 
 degree preserved from destruction. That so few vents, 
 however, are not entirely sufficient for this salutary purpose, 
 we have reason to conclude from the calamitous earth- 
 quakes to which ?Jessina and Calabria have at various 
 periods been exposed. On the other hand, it is but fair to 
 acknowledge, that these convulsions of nature have some- 
 times been attended with beneficial consequences ; since 
 the Lipari Islands evidently, and probably also the Straits 
 of iNIessina, owe their existence to volcanic revolutions 
 anterior to the records of history. 
 
 On the — th, early in the morning, we sailed through the 
 straits between the island of Capri and the territory of Sor- 
 Jl-ento. The former, once the theatre of the beastly revels 
 of the crafty tyrant Tiberius, is now inhabited by a few- 
 humble monks and poor fishermen : some of its ancient and 
 iwvenerable ruins were distinctly visible from our ship, 
 and their sequestered site induced arrecollcction of the ne- 
 farious 
 
farious and bnitisli scenes transacted \vitliin their walls, so 
 faithfully and con cunore depicted by Suetonius. ^Yith 
 these, however, I took care not to acfiuaint om* good cap- 
 tain, lest I should experience a rebntf similar to the one I 
 received between ScvUa and Charvbdis.. 
 
 The disgusting train of ideas elicited by the view of Ca- 
 pri, w as soon wiped away by a contrast of scene, infinitely 
 more pleasing. On leaving the strait, we at once entered 
 the bay of Naples, and beheld the city, with its beautiful 
 mole, castles, and chnrches ; INIisennm, BajtC, Pozznoli, 
 and Mount Posilipo on the left; Vesuvins and Portici on 
 the right; St. Elmo and Capo di Monte in the rear : a 
 prospect celebrated by every traveller for its grandeur and 
 sublimity, yet far exceeding any description I had read of 
 it : in my estimation, it is indeed beyond the pow er of 
 language to describe it. A panorama of Naples w ovdd be 
 a hiij-h treat to our London loun<rers, and the materials for 
 its execution might be procured at a trifling expense, from 
 some of the skilful scene-painters in this place. 
 
 Having come from Messina, the quarantine formalities 
 were brief As soon as T once more felt myself on terra 
 firnia, my enrpiiries were for a French inn, in conformity 
 to the advice I received at Messina from a British Mer- 
 chant, who, having several times travelled over Italy, ob- 
 served, that to travellers who were not rich, the inns kept 
 by Frenchmen proved a desirable medium between the ex- 
 pensive cleanliness of English hotels abroad, and the cheap 
 filth of native accommodations. The house of Madame 
 Gassc, on Mount Oliveto, being recommended to me, I 
 enquired for a porter to carry my small portmanteau, pis- 
 tols, &c. In an instant four, more than half-naked, Laz- 
 zaroni, grasped the four separate parcels of my baggage, 
 and were ready to start with me to the city. I remonstrated 
 
 B 2 in 
 
in vain that the whole was but a moderate load for a lad of 
 fifteen ; a simultaneous and unintellig-ible jarg-on of the 
 four savages was all the answer I received, and to which I 
 had no alternative but that of submission, fully expecting 
 to see my property travel in as many different directions. 
 In this suspicion, however, I M^as fortunately mistaken ; 
 bag- and baggage arrived safe with their owner at Madame 
 Gasse's. The reward of their labour was the next point to 
 be adjusted, and there, as the vulgar phrase is, I was a 
 match for them. To the one who carried the portmanteau, 
 as chief of the expedition, I handed three carlins(about 1 5d.), 
 with the liberty of recompensing his associates according to 
 their respective merits. This suggestion he obeyed most 
 literally, for he set off in an instant with all the money in 
 his pocket, leaving the other three on my hands, clamor- 
 ously insisting upon immediate payment. Seeing no other 
 way to rid myself of their importunities, I adroitly shifted 
 the scene of action to the passage, slipt into my room again 
 and bolted the door. Their cries w ere now converted into 
 a complete war-whoop, w hich brought up some persons be- 
 longing to the house, who, on my explaining to them from 
 w ithin the matter at issue, fairly turned the whole of their 
 Lazzaroniships out of doors. 
 
 fV rencontre like this, you may Avell suppose, dear T. 
 was not calculated to bias my first impressions in favour of 
 a people with whom I intended to make some stay. The 
 succeeding adventure, however, although another — but 
 gentler — species of imposition, most seasonably corrected 
 the irritated state of my feelings. A Franciscan friar, with 
 a charming nosegay and a basket containing three oranges, 
 meekly stepped in : — '' The prior and brethren of our con- 
 gregation have favoured me with the grateful task of offer- 
 ing to you, illustHons Sir, our congratulations on your safe 
 arrival in this capital, with our best wishes and prayers for 
 
 your 
 
your speedy recovery. We entreat your acceptance of tin's 
 produce of our garden^ so much beneath the merits of your 
 exalted person, as the only token of sincerity which the po- 
 verty of St. Francis enables us to present to you." This 
 address^ you will allow^ contained no indifferent specimen 
 of monastic rhetoric; it was eloquent, kind, and, above all, 
 flattering. But for the '' speedy recovery," I should have 
 felt highly pleased. What! do my very looks betray in- 
 ward disease to one who never saw me before? With civi- 
 lity and, I dare say, with a trembling- accent, I requested 
 an explanation on this delicate point. " If I have erred. 
 Sir, it was from having espied that vial before I looked at 
 your countenance." Neither St. Francis nor your humble 
 servant were the losers by this eclaircissement. 
 
 Substituting a dollar for the half-crown which I had al- 
 ready destined to give to this adroit, but good-natured 
 monk, and kindly thanking him for all the pretty things he 
 had said, 1 observed to him, that he appeared to be per- 
 fectly correct, although he had drawn a false conclusion, — 
 that illness had brought me to Naples; but that, whatever 
 my countenance might indicate, the contents of the vial in 
 the window were rather intended to re-establish the looks 
 of my boot-tops than those of my face. The venerable fa- 
 ther paid a neat compliment to English ingenuity, bowed 
 affectionately for the small donation, assured me that the 
 mineral waters with which the environs of the city abound, 
 would soon effect my cure, and, requesting to be permitted 
 now and then to enquire after my health, repectfully 
 withdrew. 
 
 This was not the only visit I received of the same kind, 
 although the only one that had to boast of any other re- 
 turn than my best thanks. 
 
 Having 
 
Having sent for a laquais de place*, a being with a 
 cocked hat, silk stockings, and silver shoe-hnckles (Avhich^ 
 if flattened, might have served as frames to a moderate- 
 sized cabinet pietnre), — soon made his appearance. His 
 daily wages being settled at five carlins, I enqnired his 
 name, to which he replied with great gravity, " I am called 
 Don Giuseppe Filiherti, or briefly Bon Giuseppe, or, if your 
 excellency pleases, Giuseppe without ceremony." I pre- 
 ferred the least ceremonious appellation, and indeed, for 
 his pride, should have abbreviated Don Giuseppe Filiberti 
 into simple Joe, if the Neaopolitan idiom would have sanc- 
 tioned such a degradation. You must know, every body 
 here is a Don. This epithet is one of the many remains 
 of the language and manners of the Spaniards, who, for a 
 considerable time, and not very long since, were in posses- 
 sion of the kingdom of Naples. Nor is Don alone sufficient 
 when they mean to be very civil to you ; they will address 
 you Signor Don Tommaso, give you ec.celenza, illustrissinio, 
 and other inflated titles, Avhich they are at no loss how to 
 vary, as the case, or rather their ideas of courtesy may 
 -suggest. 
 
 Although in the month of April, we have had a transient 
 shower of snow since my arrival; you should have seen the 
 poor Neapolitans hurrying through the streets, muflled up 
 to their chins in cloaks and great coats. I verily believe an 
 eruption of their neighbour Vesuvius could not have af- 
 fected them more sensibly. Indeed, my ideas of an Italian 
 spring have more than once required modification. The 
 sun (when unobstructed) is already, without doubt, much 
 warmer than in England, but since my arrival this has sel- 
 dom been the case ; we have had an almost constant suc- 
 
 • A man-servant hired by the day to direct strungcrs through the toivn. 
 
 cession 
 
cession of showers antl bleak winds. I have often lon^rpd 
 for an English fireside, but am under the necessity of con- 
 tenting^ myself with a charcoal fire, broun^ht into the apart- 
 ment in a large brass pan made for the purpose. This mode 
 of warming' the rooms, although perfectly conformable to 
 the customs of antiquity, very soon occasions the head- 
 ach to persons who are not used to it : between this, 
 however, and the alternative of sitting in a cold damp 
 room with a stone or stucco floor, you are obliged to elect. 
 Travellers, nevertheless, have extolled the charms of an 
 Italian spring; to which I can only say, that I perceive 
 very little difference between the vernal appearance of 
 Campagna Felice and the county of Middlesex. Vegetation 
 is at this time very little farther advanced in the former, and 
 with the exception of the orange-trees and the rest of the 
 evergreens, the verdure in both is much the .same. Poplars 
 are but just budding, and the fruit-trees beginning to push 
 out their blossoms. Hyacinths, tulips, and violets are the 
 only flowers I have yet seen in the open air. C'est tout 
 com file chez nous ! 
 
 Here, you will say, is a long epistle, and not a word 
 about curiosities, antiquities, operas, and other interesting 
 particulars, of which Naples furnishes such inexhaustible 
 store. Pazienza ! my dear follow. — If, according to the poet, 
 I were to have le^ you at once "" in mcdias res," you would 
 not have had even this letter, and for a very substantial 
 reason — that of all those fine things 1 have as yet not had 
 a glimpse. I am preparing in my fifth-story apartment (an 
 elevation perfectly fashionable here) to view every thing 
 systematically, coji gusto e con ainore: and, what is better, 
 during these prolegomena no time is lost ; for the weather 
 is far from encouraging either antiquarian or pleasurable 
 excursions. In my next I shall probably have it in my 
 power to gratify, in some degree^ your classic ardour. 
 
 I am, dear T. &c. 
 
8 
 
 LETTER II. 
 
 Naples, April — , ISO?, 
 
 DO not envy my lot, dear T. when I tell yon, that 
 an hour ago I visited tlie antique mausoleum of the divine 
 Maro. I had purposely denied myself this exquisite plea- 
 sure until the season should be more advanced, and the 
 weather more improved . When we wait on a great man, 
 we are desirous to appear in our best attire ; ought not then 
 nature to be clad in her most brilliant garb, for my approach 
 to the tomb of her poet? A heavenly morning had cheered 
 my spirits into the most pleasing harmony, when I resolved, 
 without waiting for breakfast, to enter on this classic pil- 
 grimage. — " Your excellency is early this morning," ex- 
 claimed Signor Don Giuseppe on entering the room ; and 
 when I acquainted. him with the cause, he added, in per- 
 fect astonishment, '' You will feel the want of your break- 
 fast. Sir, by the time you get there ; and what is more, you 
 will never find the place unless I go with you." — Giving 
 him to understand that this was my business, I left hiin 
 mutterins: some observations on the sino-ular whims del 
 Signori Inglesi, and hastened down the Infrescata and the 
 street of Toledo, towards the sea-beach. In my way, I 
 called at my physician's, whom I found very busy in the 
 preparation of his breakfast. '' You are just in time to take 
 a dish of coffee, such as you will probably not meet with 
 any where else in this city." Notwithstanding the inter- 
 dict which this guardian of my constitution had, on his first 
 visit, pronounced against that favourite beverage of mine, 
 such was the aromatic odour attending the process, and the 
 craving of my stomach, that I felt little hesitation in trans- 
 gressing the law, on the temptation of the legislator. This 
 observation, however, I kept to myself till I had made an 
 
 excellent 
 
Collent bret, . x»t on the forbidden fruit ; and then even 
 
 J3r. saved his credit by assuring me, tliat it ^Yas the 
 
 deleterious ingredients \vith \vhich coffee was universally 
 adulterated at the houses in this city, that had induced him 
 to prohibit its use to me, but that such coffee as his could 
 never hurt my constitution. Bowing- to this explanation, 
 I once more set out on my journey, and walked along the 
 beautiful shore of Chiaia towards my destination, till from 
 my map I concluded that I was within fifty yards of the spot. 
 Four or five Ciceroni in vain offered their services ; I was 
 determined to see with my own eyes alone. Whether this 
 class of men derive their generic appellation from the elo- 
 cpient manner with which they explain the antiquarian cu- 
 riosities, or from the innumerable villas which their fanciful 
 ignorance ascribes to the Roman orator, I am at a loss to 
 decide. That Cicero's philosophy was not of so austere a 
 kind as to induce him to renounce the sweets of this world 
 and the improvement of his fortune, we learn from liis owii 
 confession in his Offices ; and his vanity may have prompted 
 him to endeavour to disg-uise a plebeian descent under ex- 
 ternal splendour: but so great is the number of ruins which 
 bear the name of Tullian villas, that, were we to trust to 
 tradition, in this respect, we might not only justly accuse him 
 of downright extravagance, but perhaps be inclined to think 
 a cpiaestorship in Sicily, and a proconsulate in Cilicia, must 
 have been two veiy good thijigs. 
 
 What a shocking failing, this unconquerable loquacity! 
 — Sure of your pardon, I return to Virgil. 
 
 The Ciceronian gentlemen were highly offended at my 
 declining their aid, but they triumphed at last. All my 
 endeavours to discover the spot were fruitless; I was com- 
 pelled to call one of them to my assistance. He immediately 
 led me up a pretty steep causeway, turned into a private 
 
 c garden, 
 
10 
 
 g-arden, and by an easy and deliglitfid patli, uslnMcd me 
 into the auful precinct. 
 
 " Yonr Excellency must know/' exclaimed the oflicious 
 guide, after having cleared his vociferating' organs for ac- 
 tion^ '' I know every thing." " Then I am silent." 
 
 Indeed the beauty of this solemn retreat, the lovely shade 
 of the over-arching trees, the soothing stillness, scarcely 
 interrupted by the rustling of leaves gently fanned by 
 vernal zephyrs, or disturbed by the plaintive strains of the 
 poet of birds — need no commentator. IMethought I heard 
 the shade of the bard whisper his " Procid, ! procul estc, 
 pi^ofani ! " and, obeying the warning, I dismissed the 
 guide with his fee. 
 
 Here I bow to tradition. This surely was a favourite 
 retreat of the poet, and as such selected by his patron 
 Auoustus or his friend Pollio, to contain his mortal remains. 
 To hold those of his genius, the world then known was in- 
 adequate: they are read with equal admiration on the 
 banks of the Delaware, "Wolga, and Ganges, although their 
 author had not, like Ovid in his Jam opus cxegi, the vanity 
 of foretelling their eternity. 
 
 It is not thesituation alone of this elegant little mausoleum 
 w hich proclaims it to be Virgil's ; nature herself has, as it were, 
 by a miraculous effort, asserted its authenticity : the ruinous 
 walls are girt and strengthened with ivy and myrtle, and 
 the top of the fabric is crowned with vigorous branches of 
 laurel, new shoots of which have for centuries replaced the 
 sacrilegious robberies of profane hands. And yet, with such 
 internal evidence before them, the learned, who question 
 every thing but their own knowledge, have dared to utter 
 doubts! One of the Neapolitan literati, I am told^ has va- 
 
 ' liantly 
 
11 
 
 liantly combated the received tradition ; probably envy- 
 ing a heathen the hiurel, wliich on the tomb of liis saint 
 (St. Jamiarius), he woukl liave adored ^vith superstitious 
 devotion. 
 
 The natural lieauties of this delightful spot far exceed 
 the present appearance of the building- itself, although, to 
 judge from what remains, its design proclaims the chaste 
 style of architectiu'c prevalent in the Augustan age. It is a 
 square little temple, not nuich larger than one of our turn- 
 pike lodges; the outside has suflered so much from the 
 ravages of time, as barely to indicate its former figure. 
 The interior is rather in a better condition. Round its four 
 walls are sunk various niches, evidently destined to contaui 
 cinerary urns ; and it is said, that in one of the recesses, the 
 ashes of Virgil himself were deposited in a marble vase, with 
 the following inscription written by himself: * 
 
 *' Mantua me genuit ; Calabri rapucre ; tenet nunc 
 ♦ ' Parlhenope ; cecini pascua, rura, duces," 
 
 I should be inclined to doubt the authenticity of these 
 lines, were it not, that possibly the poet may have sacrificed 
 the usual harmony of his nund)ers to the desire of compress- 
 ing in one distich a most laconic notice of the places of his 
 birth, death, and interment, as well as of his principal 
 w orks. After all it is an odd composition, if it be his own ; 
 for what can be more superfluous than to record the place 
 you are buried in, on your very tondj-stone? But I can 
 easily fancy that a man is not in the best of humours when 
 he is composing his own epitaph, not\Yithstanding the ab- 
 solute certainty he must be under, that in this instance ho 
 is writing for posterity. 
 
 Naples was the favourite residence of our poet. Augus- 
 tus had granted him some respectable post therCj exempted 
 
 c 2 horn 
 
12 
 
 fVoni the toils of ofticial labour — '' ot'ium cum dignitate." 
 Who knows but what it mig^ht have been some prebend, 
 deanery, or livini^ connected with the temples of Jupiter or 
 Serapis at Pozzuoli, althouf^h the writers of his life have not 
 thought proper to descend to such particulars; a sinecure 
 it certainly was, and there we have at once classic autho- 
 rity in favour of sinecure places, for literary characters at 
 least; and to those exclusively they ought to be granted: 
 don't you think so, T. ? This is a serious subject, which, 
 on my return to England, shall be brought before the 
 public in an express publication, wherein 1 shall prove that 
 the productions of the greatest g-eniuses, such as Horace, 
 Virgil, Aristotle, Newton, Swift, and hundreds of others, 
 ancient as well as modern, owe their existence to sinecure 
 places. 
 
 But to return to Naples : — what other country could so 
 well furnish our poet with the subject of his Georgics, as 
 Campania, now even called la Terra di Lavoro (the land of 
 culture, not labour, as some have mischievously translated 
 it; ? I have seen several of the masserie, or farms, in the 
 neighbourhood, and been surprised at the high state of cul- 
 tivation they are in, and at the industry with which evei'y 
 inch of this superlatively fertile soil is brought to account. 
 
 Not only the Georgics are indebted for their instructive 
 merit to the industrious example of Campania: the .-Eneid 
 also owes some of its most beautiful passages to the intimate 
 knowledge which Virgil must have had of the surrounding 
 country. In the sixth book (his master-piece in my judg- 
 ment) the whole of the horribly sublime scenery, the cavern 
 of the Sibyl, lake Avernus, Acheron, &c. is borrowed from 
 the environs of Cumae and Pozzuoli, the volcanic regions 
 of which arc, with characteristic propriety and infinite skill, 
 marked out by the poet as the gloomy purlieus to the en- 
 trance into the realms of Pluto. 
 
 But 
 
\ 
 
 13 
 
 But I am again, dear T. rmniiiig'on at a wild rate. 1 am, 
 oil may well see^ momited on my hobby^ and a wild hobby 
 it is^ prancing to the left and right, seldom disposed to fol- 
 low a straight forward course; too much of the Shandj/ 
 breeds unfit for sober travelling-. 
 
 An over anxious desire to impress you with a correct idea 
 of this classic jewels aiid of tlie train of feelings which rushed 
 ujion my fancy at the time^ has made me prolix. I shall 
 atone for the fault by a more steady narrative af antecedent 
 occurrences. 
 
 The day after my arrival, I looked out for a good phy- 
 sician: Cyrillo, the Hippocrates of Italy, the pride of his 
 eountry, was no more. His unhappy fate must ever remain 
 an indelible stain in the revolutionary annals of this coun- 
 try : it will form a set-ofl[', on the credit side of the accovmt 
 of blood, ag-ainst the Jacobin butchers of Paris. The g-e- 
 nius of David (the painter) was a sufficient sanctuary to 
 save him from a well-deserved punishment ; but in Cvrillo's 
 sentence, the balance of justice had owe scale only to weigh 
 his errors, when his transcendent talents ought surely to 
 have been thrown into the other. But let us draw a veil 
 over the transaction; posterity one day will remove it.— 
 The skill of Dr. *** in chronic diseases^ was highly recom- 
 mended to me: he conceived frequent exercise on horse- 
 back, and a purer air tlian that which prevails at INIadame 
 Gasse's, to be essential to my recovery; and pronounced 
 the mineral waters, which had been my chief inducement 
 for coming to Naples, unfit to be drank for two or three 
 months. However disappointed at this information, and 
 displeased with the idea of quitting my inn, where 1 was 
 comfortably accommodated with a good lodging and table 
 for little more tlian five shillings a day, I obeyed every one 
 of his decrees ; hired a horse by the week, and moved to 
 
 the 
 
14 
 
 the very summit of the Lifrescata, a hill in the suburbs, 
 which derives its appellation from the salubrity of the at- 
 mosphere. 
 
 In my rambles after new quarters, tedious any where, but 
 more so here, where no bills in the windows guide your en- 
 quiries, I was shewn to the house, or, as they called it, the 
 palace of a private gentleman. To you, as a geometrician, 
 it will not be matter of surprise to Hnd every house with a 
 great gate, styled palace, in a city Avhere, as I have already 
 informed you, our humble <S» is translated into Ecccllenza ; 
 for — 
 
 Js Sir to Eccellenza, so House to Palace. Euclid. 
 
 Indeed Euclid was perfectly at home in this palace, as you 
 shall see presently. The private gentleman received me 
 with Neapolitan politeness (c'est tout (lit), regretted inti- 
 nitely that his apartments were still in the occupancy of a 
 Signorc Moseovita ; but assured me, that such was his par- 
 tiality to the British nation, and his knoidedgc of their genc- 
 ro s itj/ a.nd noble manner of acting, that he should contrive 
 to put me in possession of the apartments in a week or ten 
 days, the time necessary to give warning to the Russian 
 gentleman. This most generous offer being civilly declined 
 on my side, he added that, at all events, in less than three 
 weeks, the gentleman would set oiff for Rome, when I might 
 without scruple become his inmate. During this conversa- 
 tion, a lady, of about 17 or 18, was occupied at another 
 table in cxecutin": an academical drawinsf-. On admirin"; 
 her proficiency. Donna Nicoletta was introduced as the 
 daughter of the owner of the house. SJie was employed on 
 a copy of the Farnesiau Hercules, the original of which 1 
 have since seen in the Regii Stiidii; and the young artist 
 had faithfully copied rude antiquity in all its parts, owing 
 probably to her having taken the design previously to the, 
 
 visit 
 
15 
 
 visit which a high personage hitely paid to the gallery of 
 antiques now deposited in that museum ; on whieh occa- 
 sion, I have been told, an immediate and copious supply 
 of brazen foliajie, of various dimensions, was ordered to be 
 attached, without regard to rank or distinction, whether dii 
 tnajorum or minorum gentium, to all the inhabitants of 
 Olympus, that were found too fashionable in their attire : 
 even poor KalUpi/ga was forced to submit to the dire com- 
 mands of decorum ; although, in her case, the admiration 
 of the beholder would most probably be attracted in an an- 
 tipodean direction. 
 
 '' Here," you will exclaim, " is the hobby again caper- 
 ing from Donna Nicoletta to Venus Kallipyga? What a 
 saltum mortale !" Do not, dear T. wrong your valetudina- 
 rian friend by suspecting too physical an association of 
 ideas. 
 
 " The trifles on which you are good enough to lavish 
 
 your praise," observed Sig. , "are the fruits of my 
 
 daughter's leisure hours : she shall shew you something 
 more worthy of your attention." A Latin translation of the 
 first canto of the Gierusalemma Liherata, and an Italian 
 one of two orthree books of Euclid, enriched with Nicolet- 
 tian notes, were now produced as the work of the philoso- 
 phical damsel. Unfortunatly a rooted prejudice against 
 very learned females not oidy rendered me totally insensible 
 to the merits of her lucubrations, but even gave in my opi- 
 nion to the very features of her countenance, which before 
 had appeared attractive, an air of pedantry, that exerted its 
 repellent power with such accumulated force, that I began to 
 look for an opportunity of extricating myself from a society 
 which I had not grace enough to appreciate. 
 
 What, in the name of goodness, thought, I when I found 
 
 myself 
 
16^ 
 
 myself without the walls of this palace, will a man do with 
 such a wife ! if ever mortal have courage or simplicity 
 onoug-h to covet the possession of a woman, who will l^e 
 demonstratinir the binomial theorem when she oueht to be 
 cookin*^ a comfortable dish of maccaroni for his dinner, or 
 count dactyls instead of plaiting the radii of his shirt frills 
 into prismatic parallels. A simpleton he must be forsooth ! 
 and indeed none but such a one w ill she elect, if avc trust 
 the Livian paradox, according to which, the most diametri- 
 cally opposite qualifications, moral or physical, are soonest 
 united in wedlock. 
 
 When you read this letter to Miss , you had better 
 
 skip the above; tell her it contains private matter; or, if 
 you are under an absolute necessity of reading it, I depend 
 on your friendship for such an explanation of my sentiments 
 as will convince her, that I intend by no means to exclude 
 the lovely partners of our fortunes from the benefits of an 
 enlightened education : 'tis a professedly literary career, an 
 initiation into the more abstruse sciences, which I conceive 
 utterly incompatible with the fulfilment of the important 
 duties they owe to society. 
 
 The abode of this female sage being at no very great 
 distance from the castle of St. Elmo, and more than half 
 way up the mountain on which it is situated, I desired Don 
 Giuseppe to lead the way. " Indeed the ascent is too 
 steep for j/ozf. Sir; you will be exhausted, and your curi- 
 osity ill repaid. " What will you see there? the sea, some 
 ships, the town, a few pieces of brass cannon, all of which 
 you have seen before : besides, I doubt whether the sentry 
 will admit you." When all these objections were over- 
 ruled, I learned the true cause of poor Joe's demur: he had 
 eaten nothing since his scanty breakfast: his services, under 
 such circumstances, w ould have proved very inefficient ; I 
 
 therefore 
 
IT 
 
 therefore dispensed with his guidance, and reached the 
 fortress by my own enquiries. 
 
 The auri sacra fames, which ere now has opened the gates 
 of many an impregnable stronghold; or, in plain Engbsh, 
 three carlins delicately introduced into the palm of the cor- 
 poral, procured me free access to the interior ; where, how- 
 ever, I met with nothing which could interest my curiosity : 
 my attention was totally absorbed by the view of one of the 
 most delightful prospects I had ever beheld. All Naples 
 lay extended, like a map, at my feet ; the splendid man- 
 sion of the Carthusian monks of St. Martin, with the beau- 
 tiful gardens belonging to it, directly under the walls of the 
 castle ; the port crowded with masts ; at a distance*, in the 
 bay, two British frigates riding at anchor, as if disdainin«- 
 to seek greater security from a more sheltered recess; the 
 marine skirts of the town lined with the mole and li»ht- 
 house, the Castel Nuovo, Castel d'Uovo, Pizzofalcone, and 
 the pu])lic gardens of Chiaia; in the rear, old Vesuvius, 
 detached from its parent, the mountain of Somma, or rather 
 rising out of its bosom. But the scene baffles all descrip- 
 tion ; and to save myself a more minute detail, I enclose a 
 hasty sketch, which I have since pencilled from the same 
 point of view *. 
 
 I have been told a curious circumstance which occurred 
 when recently a detachment of our troops, in conjunction 
 with the Neapolitans, besieged the French in this castle. 
 The British had no sooner built their huts at a convenient 
 distance from the fortress, than many of the men were sud- 
 denly seized with violent vomitings, others with head-ache 
 and langour, which rendered them unfit for dutv. At first 
 it was suspected that the French had poisoned the wells ; 
 
 * The view here alluded to has been introduced in the title page. 
 
 D but 
 
18 
 
 but when it was found that other coi-ps, who had used the 
 same water, were in perfect health, it was feared that the 
 plag-ue, or some other epidemic disease, had infected the 
 camp ; the more so, as medicine, although administered 
 immediately, produced no abatement in the symptoms, until 
 one of the surgeons discovered the true cause of the evil. 
 The encampment being in the vicinity of a hemp field, many 
 of the men had formed their huts with thestalksand leaves of 
 that plant, the effluvia of w hich had exerted their intoxicat- 
 ing and stuporific qualities to the alarming- degree above 
 described. As soon therefore as the cause was removed, 
 the evil ceased, without any further serious consequence. 
 
 I could have feasted my eyes for hours on the sublime 
 scene before me, had not grosser organs reminded me of the 
 humiliating truth, that man is not all mind. My stomach 
 began to be in the same predicament as that of Don Giu- 
 seppe an hour ago : hunger hurried me down to the city, 
 5vherel had nearly repented of the indulgence I had granted 
 him. I totally lost my way, and became bewildered in amaze 
 of small narrow lanes, the poor inhabitants of which an- 
 swered my repeated enquiries with a good-natured, but to me 
 unintelligible Neapolitan patois. Fortunately, I met at last 
 a Neapolitan officer, who could speak Italian, and who was 
 kind enough to conduct me to my inn, where, for the first 
 time these four months, I dined with real appetite on the 
 cold relics of the table d'hote. 
 
 Before I close this long letter, I must give you a short 
 description of a curious theatrical representation, at which I 
 was present some days ago. The title of Saul induced me 
 to expect a sacred oratorio ; instead of which, I found the 
 whole of the biblical narrative dramatized into a complete 
 opera, not even omitting the incantations of the witch of 
 Endor. The Neapolitans are more unreasonable than the 
 
 ancient 
 
19 
 
 ancient Romans ; they would have carnem et circenses even 
 in Lent-time : the former, I understand, they have been 
 indulged with by a special, but by no means gratuitous, 
 dispensation from the Holy See; and their eagerness for 
 the latter has been gratified by the sacred kind of opera 
 just mentioned, in which Signora P. made her first debid as 
 a singer, in the character of David, and, I am told, attracted 
 the particular notice of a British officer of rank. She is 
 not yet a great singer, but bids fair to be one; her intona- 
 tion is full and sweet, and her compass great : science, and 
 an action more degagee and adapted to the stage, is all she 
 wants; and which, at her age, she has time to acquire, for 
 she does not appear to be more than sixteen. Add to this, 
 alovely face and figure, much resembling our Miss D.'s,and 
 you will not tax me with unreasonable partiality. Mom- 
 belli, the first tenor, acted King Saul admirably : although 
 he is d'un certain age, his voice penetrated every part of the 
 house ; but it is in the recitativos he is most impressive, and, 
 I think, unrivalled : his figure, step, and action, frequently 
 put me in mind of Kemble. The music, Guglielmi's as I 
 am told, has great merit ; and a harp air in particular, of 
 David's (not a psalm) in a minor key, was extremely aflfect- 
 ing. Upon the whole, justice was not done to the composer 
 by the orchestra, which was sensibly inferior to our's at the 
 King's Theatre. 
 
 After one of the longest letters which have yet issued 
 from my pen, I trust I may take leave of you with some 
 degree of credit : the more so, as the pleasure I derive from 
 writing to you has made me transgress the directions of the 
 physician, who has most seriously cautioned me against 
 sedentary occupation. My health, however, improves ; 
 at least my spirits are better, as you may have perceived 
 yourself, from thepreceding rhapsodies of 
 
 Your'Sj &c. 
 
 D 2 
 
20 
 
 LETTER III. 
 
 Dear T. 
 
 Naples, April — , ISO'i, 
 
 THIS delightful city^ ^^ith its heavenly environs, so 
 strongly gains every day on my favour, that, not\Yithstand- 
 ing my ardent wish to return to old England, and to all 
 that is dearest to mo, I fear 1 shall never be able to quit 
 Naples without sineerc regret. Miss Parthenope must in- 
 deed have been a lady of great judgment and taste, to 
 select so eligible a situation for settling her colony in, 
 after she had eloped from the rigorous treatment of her 
 Thessalian papa; her choice is even superior to that of 
 Madame Dido, another run-away princess, who contented 
 herself with the parched sands of Barbary. How different 
 the elopements of those heroic ages from the amorous fliglits 
 of our times! The breach of the social compact would 
 then be atoned for, by the establishment of rising colonies; 
 whereas, now-a-days, the aggregate results of all the love- 
 trips upon record, from the origin of the functions of the 
 cyclopcan priest to the present time, would scarcely furnish 
 the numerical compliment of 07ze colonial settlement. 
 
 I have often wondered how so gallant a man as iEneas 
 could pass within sight of this place, without giving even a 
 call to the fliir Parthenope ; or why, if he did such a thing, 
 our friend Virgil should be silent on the subject; and I 
 shrewdly suspect the latter to be the fact. The pious hero, 
 no doubt, paid his respects en passant, to that princess, 
 and perhaps took French leave of her, as he did of the Ty- 
 rian lady ; not at the instigation of a Cupid en masque, but 
 because his prudence suggested him, that if he listened to 
 the pressing invitations of those love-sick maids, and mar- 
 
 rie*^ 
 
21 
 
 ried one or the other, he micrht indeed become tlio husband 
 of a queen, a kind of appendix kept for posterity's sake, 
 but not king in his own right ; a wish that had ])ecn the 
 prinuwi 7?wbile o^ 'dW his peregrinations. He therefore de- 
 clined all connexion, or at least all matrimonial connexion, 
 with these petticoat governments, and steered further north- 
 ward, in order to . 
 
 But no! let him steer on, I know you will think I have 
 steered long enough out of course for the sake of this clas- 
 sical digression, or rather rhapsody; for to give it the former 
 appellation, at the very outset of the epistle, would be as 
 bad as beginning a letter with a postscript. 
 
 How you w ill envy me, dear T. when you read the de- 
 scription of my head-quarters. If it is true, that a French- 
 man once exclaimed, '' Paris is the capital of Europe, and 
 the Palais Royal the capital of Paris," I may well say, 
 Naples is the loveliest city in Europe, and the habitation of 
 your humble servant on the top of the Infrescata, the love- 
 liest spot in all Naples. In front an extensive garden, in 
 the gayest vernal attire, with several stately orange trees 
 just ready to blossom ; and backwards a panoramic view, 
 far surpassing the magic scenery of Claude's poetic pencil. 
 From my pillow I often behold, in the cool of the morning, 
 the thin aerial fume issuing from the crater of Vesuvius : 
 and the varied and extensive prospect from my window, of 
 the city, the bay, villas, gardens, and a wide tract of a fer- 
 tile and well cultivated country, bordered by a distant chain 
 of mountains, surpasses the powers of description. Add to 
 these local advantages the kind offices of one of the most 
 good-natured families upon earth, who seem to make it 
 their particular study to anticipate my wants and wishes, 
 and you will agree with me, that I have been fortunate 
 in procuring all these excellencies at the moderate price of 
 
 ten 
 
22 
 
 ten ducats (about two guineas) per month, the rent which 1 
 have agreed to pay them. 
 
 This family may be called truly patriarchal, in as much 
 as it is composed of four successive generations under the 
 same roof: the great-grandfather and great-grandmother, 
 the grandfather and grandmother, the father and mother, 
 and the children of the latter, the eldest of whom is five 
 years old, and both mother and grandmother in a family 
 way. I h^d almost forgotten the pretty Donna Luisa, 
 though last, not least in our estimation ; for she cooks my 
 dinner and prepares her maccaroni as exquisitely as any 
 you can eat at Brunet's. 
 
 Don Michele, the grandfather, is the leader of this nu- 
 merous band ; a man of formal address and pompous civi- 
 lity, one of those sententious characters that delight in the 
 harmony of their own talk. 
 
 He daily renoimces his siesta, in order to keep me com- 
 pany at dinner, where it is in vain to beg him to join: 
 " SjGGio it min dovere, Signor mio, aggio pranzato* ," is 
 generally his reply to any invitation of that kind* He is per- 
 fectly contented when he sees me enjoy my dinner, and the 
 least want of appetite causes him real uneasiness. On such 
 an occasion, which unfortunately occiu's more often than I 
 could wish, he generally launches out into a violent philip- 
 pic against physicians, the burden of which is, " Believe 
 me, good Sir, you'll never be well till you throw your bottles 
 and pills out of the window. How can a man of your sense 
 and underslandino: doubt for a moment that it is all a farce 
 and imposition?" To contradict him on this, or indeed any 
 
 ♦ I know my duty, dear Sir; I have dined. 
 
 other 
 
23 
 
 other subject, would only elicit an endless train of tedious 
 
 argumentation; whereas a " lei dice bene, ma /' and 
 
 shrug-^ing' up my shoulders (afavourite Italian gesticulation) 
 persuades his self-complacency, that the superiority of his 
 reasoning is unanswerable. He then enters upon the news 
 of the day, and there his communications are doubly enter- 
 taining in a city where one wretched newspaper oidy is 
 printed twice or thrice a week, and that containing but a few 
 indifferent extracts from other foreign journals. Through 
 my friend Don Michele, therefore, I obtain the earliest 
 notice of oratorios to be performed in any of the numerous 
 churches, of a nun's taking the veil, of the plays or operas 
 to be represented, of the arrival of any of our ships of 
 war, &c. 
 
 In this place, a lover of harmony need be at no expense 
 to hear excellent music very often. Scarcely a day passes 
 but one church or other has to celebrate some festival, 
 saint's aniversary, or other important holy rite, where music 
 is an essential requisite ; and fond as I am of sacred music 
 in particular, I have hitherto missed few opportunities of 
 that kind. In almost every instance the performers, both 
 vocal and instrumental, were of the first-rate abilites, and 
 the composition, whether ancient or modern, truly sublime ; 
 but frequently also the pleasure I experienced was alloyed, 
 or rather destroyed, by sensations of disgust, felt at the sight 
 of eunuchs employed in the execution of these sacred con- 
 certs. Among- all the potent engines which the Catholic 
 church has called in aid of the adoration of the Supreme 
 Being, music, from its powerful and direct influence on our 
 hearts and feelings, and the sublimity of its nature, deserv- 
 edly claims the first rank. But, surely, the shrill and un- 
 natural strains of these unfortunate beings, can add nothing- 
 to the solemn harmony of divine song ; on the contrary, 
 their employment debases that heavenly science, their pre- 
 sence 
 
24 
 
 sence contaminates the hallowed temples of the Almighty, 
 and their introduction into a place of worship, bespeaks a 
 most blasphemous and preposterous refinement of modern 
 taste. The truth of this observation was fully acknow- 
 ledged by that worthy pontiff, Clement VIII. when he issued 
 the most positive prohibition of so inhuman and impious a 
 custom: but such is the ingenuityof religious casuistry, th^t 
 means were soon devised, and are still practised, to elude 
 the injunction of his philanthropic decree, without infring- 
 ing the letter of the law. To name them would only sully 
 my pen, which has already dwelt too long on a subject dis- 
 pleasing enough to every friend of mankind, without any 
 further addition of colouring. 
 
 Let us at once, dear T. turn to the verdant groves, the 
 smiling gardens, and the rocky recesses of the lovely 
 mountain of Posilipo, the beauties of which have so justly 
 been celebrated by many writers of antiquity. It forms in a 
 manner a natural wall of defence to the whole of the north- 
 western and western parts of the city, and terminates in an 
 abrupt promontory, fronting the soutli. The tranquillity 
 and pleasantness of its situation had rendered it to the 
 wealthy Romans a place of resort, no less fashionable than the 
 barren and sandy shores of Bajae. Csesar, Lucullus, PoUio, 
 Virgil, Cicero of course, and many other great public cha- 
 racters, possessed here magnificent villas, of which some 
 scattered fragments still remain. No wonder, then, if Posi- 
 lipo, from its classic celebrity and the beauty of its situation 
 and prospects, has become a favourite haunt of mine;, so 
 much so, that my horse, when left to its free agency, regu- 
 larly carries me from the Infrescata, through Uomero, over 
 the charming path which winds along the broad spine of the 
 mountain, to the romantic village near the cape. The Uo- 
 mero, in fact, forms part of Posilipo, and on. its summit rises 
 the splendid palace of Prince Belvedere, with its noble 
 
 gardens. 
 
25 
 
 gardens. The latter are particularly interesting, on account 
 of the many exotic and tropical plants which here thrive in 
 the open air. It is in these gardens I saw a few days ago, 
 for the first time in my life, the bull-rush papi/nis ; not in- 
 deed in such abundance as it once grew on the marshy 
 banks of the Syracusan Anapus^ or on the borders of 
 lake Menzaleh in Egypt, but sufficient to gratify my curi- 
 osity. Some of the stalks being near decay, 1 begged and 
 
 obtained one of them; and the inclosed letter for Miss 
 
 conveys to her some anapaistics (as tender as they would 
 flow), written with a reed and atramentum, in antique 
 characters, on papyrus-paper of my own manufacture. 
 Make her truly sensible of the value of this classic treasure ; 
 tell her it is a fac simile of one of Marc Anthony's love- 
 letters to the Egyptian queen ; assure her that the Royal So- 
 ciety would gladly have received it, that the British Museum 
 w^ould have hung it up in a frame in the library window. 
 Small as the specimen is, it has occasioned me infinite trou- 
 ble and vexation to produce tlius much. In order to pre- 
 pare it as nearly as possible according to the directions of 
 Pliny, I was, in the first instance, under the necessity of 
 going down to the city, to consult, in the public library of 
 one of the convents the natural history of that writer. I 
 then set to w ork, divided with my razor the pith of the rush 
 into small slips, and having placed them close to each other, 
 in two layers, longitudinally and transversely^ put the ten- 
 der fabric between the .^neid and a breviary of my land- 
 lord's, and for the sake of stronger compression, consigned 
 
 the whole to the gravitating power of But here my 
 
 pen refuses its office! How shall I describe the agony I 
 felt, when, on my return from a long ride, I missed my 
 treasure, and learned its woeful fate. Benedetto, the suc- 
 cessor to the infatuated Don Giuseppe, had arrived from 
 town with my medicine just in time to saddle my horse for 
 this unfortunate ride, and I was scarcely out of si^htbut he 
 
 fi and 
 
26 
 
 and Donna Luisa set about cleanine^ the rooms, makino- the 
 bed^ &c. AVhether it was owing to that instinct of female 
 regularity which considers books and papers placed anywhere 
 but under lock and key^ as mere litter; or whether the pious 
 pair felt indignant at the sight of their manual of daily devo- 
 tion being subjected by a heretic to the action of a bedpost ; 
 or whatever else may have been their motive^ they had sepa- 
 rated and removed my whole apparatus^ and consigned the 
 papyrus literally to the dust. 
 
 Benedetto had my hearty maledictions for his stupidity, 
 and I am afraid poor Luisa felt some of the effects of my 
 first irritation : for this I begged her pardon^ when my 
 passion had given way to sober reflection, and I con- 
 sidered that the remnant of the stalk, which I had intended 
 to bring with me to England, was suflkient to produce 
 a second specimen. I forthwith made another attempt, 
 and succeeded to the full extent of my wishes. Its co- 
 lour, as you will perceive, is of a light brown ; but this, I 
 apprehend, is rather the fault of the substance itself than of 
 the manufiicturc : at least an Arabian manuscript on papy- 
 rus, which I have seen in the Regit Studii, is full as dark in 
 hue ; and, except a greater degree of smoothness, probably 
 arising from a more perfect mode of pressure, in no respect 
 superior to my preparation. 
 
 But to return to Posilipo : many of its gardens are still 
 inclosed by ancient masonry ; and along the road from the 
 Uomeix), I have with pleasure and surprise discovered a 
 considerable extent of antique garden walls, which evi- 
 dently were built for the same purpose they now answer. 
 A gardcn-Kall of eighteen centuries standing surely must be 
 deemed a convincing proof of the superiority of the ancient 
 mode of building: nor can there be a mistake as to its age, the 
 reticular junction of the stones being a sure criterion of anti- 
 quity. 
 
27 
 
 quity. This manner of placing the stones, not in parallel 
 rows, like the moderns, bnt in a diagonal direction, with 
 one of the four angles downwards, like the ace of diamonds, 
 has probably assisted the durability of the fabric. 
 
 The sight of a large square slab of \\ hite marble at a trifling 
 distance from the main road on this mountain, excit- 
 ed my curiosity some days ago. It contained a modern 
 Latin inscription of great length, w hich for its singularity I 
 w^ould send you, but I wish to save postage. The traveller 
 is desired to pause, in order to behold an ocular demon- 
 stration of the cruelty and impiety of the ancient pagans, 
 exhibited in the fish-ponds of A. Pollio, Esq. who, says the 
 marble, was particularly fond of lampreys fed with human 
 blood ; and w ho, to gratify this inhuman sort of gluttony, 
 had these ponds built at an immense expence, and caused 
 the wretched victims of his corrupt palate to be thrown into 
 them. Accepting the pious invitation, I entered the farm 
 pointed at by the inscription, and actually found the farm- 
 house to consist of some modern masonry, engrafted upon 
 a solid stock of ancient reticulated architecture. At the 
 back of the building a small door opened into the ponds, 
 which even now appeared to be abundantly supplied with 
 water, rising to the height of about eight or ten feet, from 
 the door downwards, and covered by an arched vault nearly 
 as high from the top of the door : the sides were lined with 
 a stucco, as hard, if not harder, than stone. The whole fa- 
 bric was in perfect preservation, and well worth the attention 
 of an antiquary; but my conductor was unable to add any 
 thing to the informatioH given by the inscription, which, I 
 confess, appeared to me very problematical. The neat and 
 impenetrable covering of stucco would rather induce me to 
 take it for a reservoir, or large cistern for water, than a pond 
 for lampreys: and supposing it to have been the latter, 
 where is the evidence of human bodies having supplied their 
 
 E 2 food? 
 
. 28 
 
 food? Supposing- the Roman laws to have been lax enoiig;h 
 to allow such a diabolical practice, what stomach could 
 relish such a dainty? 
 
 On descending from tlie mountain of Posilipo towards the 
 city, by a steep causeway of manyzig-zag windings cut out 
 of the solid rock, the ear is usually struck with a loud and 
 hollow^ rumblino, rcsemblins,- the subteraneous thunder of 
 Vesuvius ; but the temporary alarm of the stranger is re- 
 moved as soon as he learns that the noise, however violent, 
 solely proceeds from the rolling of carriages passing through 
 la Grotta di Posilipo immediately under his feet. This un- 
 questionably is one of the most stupendous works of anti- 
 quity; and the benefit which the city of Naples derives 
 from it to this day, is inappreciable; inasnuich as it- affords, 
 in a straight line, a level and easy commimication with the 
 country on the other side of Mount Posilipo, to which there 
 was before no access by land but by circuitous and almost 
 impracticably steep roads across the mountain. To have 
 pierced this rock by the chisel at its very base, must have 
 been a Avork of prodigious labour and time ; for although I 
 have not yet been able to ascertain the length of the e:vicava- 
 tion, owing to the constant passing and repassing of vehicles 
 of every description, yet, upon a rough guess, its extent 
 appears to equal that of the Mall in St. James's Park. Two 
 carriages may go abreast, and its lowest height is certainly 
 not less than twenty feet; but at the extremities, and par- 
 ticidarly at that facing Na])les, upwards of sixty. 
 
 It is by no means certain who was tlje author of this 
 great undertaking, or from what period of time the first per- 
 foration is to be dated. Tlie common opinion is in favom' of 
 Augustus, who is said to have entrusted its execution to 
 Coccpjus, an architect of greiit repute in that age: 40thcr>i, 
 not without §tron"' arnimients on itheir side, contend for a 
 
 much 
 
29 
 
 much more remote origin^ ascribing- its formation to the 
 early inhabitants of the Greek Parthenope, with whom_, 
 they assert^ it went under the name of the Ecmean cavern : 
 and the lower class of the modern Neapolitans believe it to 
 be the work of the devil; or, rather, of the sorcerer Virgil, 
 who, flying- from the pursuit of St. Januarius, and being at 
 a nonplus how to escape, by a stroke of his wand created 
 this passage for himself, through tlie midst of the rock. To 
 this, however, I feel some hesitation of subscribing-; for, 
 supposing the wizard possessed of the powers of achieving- 
 so rare a deed, he surely would have had sense enough to 
 make the rock close again after him, to prevent the saint's 
 Availing- himself of the new tlioroughfare in his pursuit : but 
 perhaps poor Virgil had lost his wits in the embarrassment 
 in which he may be supposed to have been on an occasion 
 of such imminent daniier. 
 
 Disclaiming', however, any wish to influence your choice 
 among these various hypotheses, I ought to mention, that 
 the existence of this cavern, at the time of Seneca, rests on 
 indubitable authority. Speaking- of a trip of his from Bajae 
 to Naples, this author himself adds, that after passing 
 through a swampy road, which made him fancy himself 
 once more at sea, he arrived in this cave, where he felt an 
 excessive heat ; that he never saw any thing more tedious 
 and dismal than this suljterraneous prison, rendered doubly 
 frightful l)y the total obscurity which prevailed in it, there 
 being no opening of any kind for the admission of air or light ; 
 so that he Avas forced to grope his way through volumes of 
 dust, which alone would have darkened the road, had even 
 the rock l)een open. Poor Seneca, it seems, was easily 
 fright ciied ; but much of the inconvenience he complains 
 of might as easily have been remedied : for surely, with an 
 immense fortune like his, the third man in the Roman em- 
 pire might have adbrded half a dozen torches to light his 
 
 way. 
 
30 
 
 ■way. At the present day, the passage is not quite so un- 
 comfortable : a lamp, constantly burning before a chapel 
 situated just half-way, serves for a beacon : both entrances 
 have at ditlbrent times been greatly enlarged, and two dia- 
 gonal apertures were, in Charles the Fifth's time, cut through 
 the rock^ which not only illumine the interior considerably, 
 but in some degree perform the office of ventilators. 
 
 The above, my dear T., together with Virgil's ??2«Mso/eMw, 
 described in my last, are some of the most interesting objects 
 to be met with on this classic mountain ; some others of 
 minor note I shall omit for the present, lest I exhaust your 
 patience, which I fear has already been put to the test. If 
 I have sinned against the virtue of brevity, your own in- 
 junctions, to be minute in my conmiunications, will plead 
 the apology of 
 
 Your's, &c. 
 
 LETTER IV. 
 Dear T. 
 
 NArtns, May — , 180'2. 
 
 THE frigate arrived here yesterday from Malta : 
 
 and by her I received your kind letter of the 1st March, 
 with the parcel of newspapers you had the goodness to save 
 for me, as also the ..... Accept my warmest thanks for 
 your friendly attention to my little wants, and for the com- 
 prehensive and hiteresting narrative of our domestic affairs. 
 This I may, without flattery, affirm to be a model of histo- 
 rical writing ; and I am well aware that, before such a 
 judge, my letters need the greatest indulgence. Trans- 
 planted, as it were, into a new world, replete with innu- 
 merable 
 
31 
 
 merable objects of curiosity and admiration, and desirous 
 of makino; the best use of my stay, I do not study my ex- 
 pressions : I have, as Pliny says, no time to write a short 
 letter; and your friendship, I am convinced, will make 
 every allowance I can wish for. 
 
 We have known here of the peace of Amiens these several 
 
 weeks past At all events I trust it will hist 
 
 during my journey home ; for I have now determined to return 
 northwards tln'ough Italy and France by the way of Rome, 
 Florence, Tiu-in, Lyons, Paris, and Calais, as soon as the 
 hot season, which is rapidly approaching-, shall render any 
 longer stay in this latitude unadvisable to a valetudinarian 
 like me. In these travels I mean, if left to my own choice, 
 to proceed leisurely, so as not to be fatigued, and to have 
 proper time to make whatever observations countries so in- 
 interesting as those may suggest. Of all that is worthy of 
 notice, or at least that is noticed by me, I shall keep as de- 
 tailed an account as time and health may allow ; and either 
 communicate it to you in person, or, should we not be 
 able to meet so soon as I hope, prepare from its materials 
 aided by recollection, a more regular journal for your en- 
 tertainment. 
 
 I am now going to give you an account of a late excur- 
 sion of mine to Pozzuoli, Bajae, Misenum, and other places 
 in that direction ; a trip, which, however disagreeable, or 
 rather ridiculous in its termination, afforded me the highest 
 delight and instruction. 
 
 Some days ago DonlNIichelehad, as usual, placed himself 
 beside my dinner-table, and proceeded, for some time, in 
 his eloquent discourse, when I asked if he had any com- 
 mands for Pozzuoli, as I should take a ride thither the next 
 day, and not return before dark " If you would grant me, 
 
 dear 
 
S2 
 
 dear Sir, the li1)er(y of putting in my humble advice, I would, 
 under due correction, presume to propose a little alteration 
 in the plan of your journey, which, if it met the honour of 
 your jndicious concurrence, might probably tend to make 
 the trip more agreeable to yourself. Where will you dine 
 there? Pozzuoli has no inns to accommodate a person of 
 your merit ; but I have a friend residing at that place, who 
 would be happy to see you in his house, and to shew you 
 everv thing worthy of iyour attention. Your horse, before 
 you hired it, was used to a calesso*. Let him once in a 
 way drive us two to my friend Don Giacomo, to make a 
 pleasant day of it ; the calesso I shall procure, and notice 
 shall be sent to-morrow to Pozzuoli to prepare my friend 
 for our reception." 
 
 Oil my reply, that nothing but the possitive order of 
 
 Doctor , to confine my exercise to the saddle, could 
 
 prevent me from accepting so obliging an ofter as his, a deep 
 sigh on the part of Don Michele, announced, like the first 
 whizzings of a tornado, an approaching storm, ready tobui*st 
 not only on my poor doctor, but on all the successors of 
 Hippocrates and Galen. Fancy it over for brevity's sake, 
 and your humble senant capitulating for the two-wheeled 
 vehicle being before the door at six the day after that im- 
 mediately following. Four bottles of porter, and my last 
 two bottles of rum, intended as a present to the unknown 
 Don Giacomo, being carefully stowed in the seat, I waited 
 the appearance of my fellow-traveller. 
 
 Call to your aid, dear T. all the powers of your fertile 
 imagination, to depict to your mind's eye the figure of my 
 companion arrayed in a striped silk coat, orange and 
 purple, cut-steel buttons of the largest possible diameter, 
 
 white 
 
 * Single-horse chaises, acting as hackney-coaches in Naples. 
 
ss 
 
 white satin waistcoat, profusely embroidered with roses and 
 passion-flowers, breeches like the coat, white silk stockings, 
 cordovan shoes with huge silver buckles, lace ruffles and 
 frills, and the hair frizzed into a number of elegant side- 
 curls. But for the ponderous gold-headed cane and the 
 queue, Don Michele might have gone to St. James's on the 
 king's birth-day. 
 
 I stared ; but my surprise was taken for admiration, and 
 the motive for this effort of self-decoration stated to be : 
 '^ per faronore alia di lei persona*.'* 
 
 Not to expose the contrast between this gay attire, and 
 my veteran black coat and blue pantaloons, to the sarcastic 
 observations of my English friends in town, I proposed to 
 go the more unfrequented road across the Uomero down 
 into the Piamira : still we met several of my fellow-travel- 
 ler's acquaintances, ^who seemed in their salutations to 
 envy either his coat or his place. After descending a very 
 steep road, we travelled through a most fertile plain of 
 about four miles, till we arrived at another rocky ridge, 
 round the extremity of which a road appears to have been 
 cut, immediately overhanging the sea, and winding along 
 the mountain to the gate of Pozzuoli, which, on this side, 
 forms a most picturesque appearance. Before eight o'clock 
 we halted at the gate of Don Giacomo's palace, who had 
 already stepped down to receive us, and by way of hearty 
 welcome, imprinted three savoury kisses alternately on my 
 cheeks and lips*^*. A British ambassador could not have 
 been received with greater honours, and more cordial hospi- 
 tality, than were here bestowed upoii me. We were usher- 
 ed into the best room, and a breakfast of chocolate, cold 
 meat, &c. was immediately served up. During this repast, 
 
 - it 
 
 * To do honour to your person. 
 F 
 
34 
 
 it was settled^ that the forenoon should be employed in vi- 
 siting- the antiquities along the bay of Bajae, as far as the 
 promontory of Misenum^ whence we were to return to din- 
 ner to Pozzuoli ; and that, in the afternoon^ the curiosities 
 in or about that town should be inspected. '' And," con- 
 tinued our kind host, '^ as I have learned from Don Mi- 
 chele's letter, that our amico Inglcse believes himself to be 
 in an indifferent state of health (which, by the bye, his 
 looks contradict) I have taken care to provide, besides a 
 good cicerone, a clean and decent jack-ass, lest the long- 
 walk in the heat of i\\e day be too fatiguing for him." — 
 Such a mark of the most delicate attention from an utter 
 stranger, I confess, quite overpowered my feelings ; I was 
 at a loss how to express my sense of gratitude. — And this, 
 dear T. is the people whom the spleen, or rather the de- 
 praved heart of some travellers, has represented as an un- 
 principled set of rogues, ready to commit every act of moral 
 turpitude for the sake of their owu interest ! 
 
 Fie upon the retailers of such falsehoods, who think 
 themselves competent to decry the character of a nation, 
 whose language they generally do not understand ; and 
 who, puffed up with their own prejudices, liberally bestow 
 their curses on whatever does not come within the con- 
 tracted sphere of their home-spun ideas! Let them stay at 
 home, it they can't eat roast-beef and puddings with tlie 
 English, maccaroni with the Italians, olla podrida with the 
 Spaniards, ragouts with the French, and sour-crout with, 
 the inhabitants of Germany ! 
 
 But 1 have waxed wroth, instead of beginning the recital 
 
 of our peaceable antiquarian pilgrimage. Mounted on 
 
 Balaam's charger, with one of my Italian friends on eacli 
 side, and the cicerone in front, we strolled along the shores 
 of the buy. ^' The ruins you see on the declivity of yon 
 
 mountain," 
 
35 
 
 mountain/' exclaimed the latter, " are the remains of the 
 famous villa of Cicero, called by him the Academy, ^vhere 
 he wrote his Academical Questions. 
 
 To question this information would have been very 2iti- 
 academical ; since, from more than one ancient author, it 
 may be proved that this country-seat of the orator's must 
 have been situated at, or at least very near to, the spot 
 pointed out by our guide. 
 
 The next object that excited our astonishment, was the 
 monte nuovo, a mountain of considerable height, formed in 
 the space of one night (19th September 1538). A terrible 
 earthquake, accompanied with violent volcanic eruptions, 
 gave birth to thi« mountain ; at the same time, that it de- 
 stroyed or defaced the whole of the surrounding country 
 from Pozzuoli to Misenum : rich vineyards and fertile iields 
 were in an instant converted into deserts, to this day inca- 
 pable of cultivation. The Roman buildings, which before 
 had stood nearly entire, although not completely annihi- 
 lated by the sad catastrophe, were yet much ruined and 
 dilapidated. 
 
 Close to the monte nuovo is the Lucrine lake, reduced, by 
 the same convulsion of nature, from a fine expanse of water, 
 to an insignificant puddle a few yards in diameter. I need 
 not call to your recollection that its former name was Cocy- 
 tus, of infernal memory; and that the Incrafive revenue 
 which ancient Rome drew from its fisheries, of shell- 
 fish in particular, caused its change of appellation. Ju- 
 venal, Martial, and Horace, speak in the highest terms of 
 the exquisite flavour of the Lucrine oysters. This circum- 
 stance alone proves a conununicatiou with the sea : and 
 from difl"erent authors of antiquity, it is evident that an in- 
 land navigation formerly existed between the bay of Poz- 
 
 F 2 zuoli. 
 
36 
 
 ZLioli^ and the port of Ciimaeon the other side of this penii. 
 sula^ by means of a canal which connected the bay with the 
 Lucrine lake, the hitter with lake Avernus, and lake Avernns 
 with the sea at CunicE. On this point, the following lines 
 of Virgil are decisive, at least half way : 
 
 Lncrinoquc addita claustra. 
 
 Atque indignatum niagnis stridoribus aequor, 
 Julia qua pouto longe sonat unda refuse, 
 Tyrrhcnusqiie frctis iminittitur testus Avernis. 
 
 Immediately behind the Lncrine lake, and separated 
 from it by a rocky mountain only, is lake Avernus {a.o.-;oi Gr. 
 birdless). The name itself is indicative of its former insa- 
 lubrity, Tlie pestilential vapours, once rising out of its 
 bosom, are reported to have been fatal to such of the fea- 
 thered race as dared to approach it ; and no fish, of course, 
 could tenant its infected element. 
 
 Principio, quod Averua vocant, non nomen id abs re 
 
 Impobitum cjt, quia sunt avibus contraria cunctts. Lucuetius. 
 
 No wonder then, dear T. if the ancient poets, whose 
 powers of imagination are often of INIunchhusian compass, 
 have marked this unhallowed spot as the site of the infernal 
 kingdoms. Oar cicerone had began to expatiate very pret- 
 tily on this topic, when Don Giacomo significantly shook 
 "his head, observing how ridiculous it was to suppose that a 
 space so confined as this, should be able to contain the ac- 
 cumulating influx of the impious souls of the whole world, 
 when it was evident that it would not hold the one-hun- 
 dreth part of the wicked of the little kingdom of Naples, 
 even excluding its lawyers. He therefore rather believed 
 it to have been a kind of purgatory, where, upon an aver- 
 age, the number of arrivals would not exceed the proportion 
 of departures, and where, consequently, a moderate extent 
 of ground might well suffice. 
 
 Don 
 
37 
 
 Don Micliele tacitly waited the end of his friend's learned 
 disquisition before he dechvred his sentiments on this knotty 
 point. " My opinion is/' exchiimed he, with his usual 
 gTavity, '' that the whole is a parcel of lies, purposely in- 
 vented ])y those »entlenien of antiquity, to make posterity 
 believe that the nnmljer of pag-an rascals was so inconsider- 
 al)le as to require no more elbow-room than the space in 
 which we find ourselves at present, would afford. 
 
 But whatever foundation, dear T. there may be in this 
 poetical tradition, it is certain that the present aspect of 
 lake Avernus is such as to give rise to any other than gloomy 
 ideas. Its unruffled waters, now abounding- with good fish, 
 are closely surrounded by romantic groups of rocks, stud- 
 ded with stately trees and shrubs, the luxuriant foliage of 
 which casts a sombre, l)ut pleasing-^ shade over its surface. 
 The mind partakes of tlie silent repose of nature, and the 
 solemnity of the scene is heightened by the ruins of two ve» 
 nerable temples, close to the edge of the lake, and by the 
 vicinity of the entrance to the cavern of the Sibyl. One of 
 the former, which the omniscience of our guide dedicated 
 to Apollo, is sufficiently entire to allow you to perceive the 
 beauty of the architecture and the fineness of its propor- 
 tions : the outside is octangular, the interior round ; several 
 niches decorate the walls, and various shrubs seem to supply 
 its sunken dome. The other edifice, which, with the same 
 tlceronian facility, was consecrated to Mercury, has suf- 
 fered nuich more, and altogether appears to have been of 
 inferior workmanship and materials. Both, however, from 
 their contiguity to the lake, may, for ought we know, have 
 been baths. 
 
 We now proceed to the celebrated cave of the Sibyl, 
 likewise situated on tlie borders of lake Avernus, at a few 
 score yards distance from the temple of Apollo. Here my 
 
 expectations 
 
38 
 
 expectations were greatly disappointed : tradition has been 
 guilty of an egregious misnomer in proclaiming this exca- 
 vation to have been the residence of the Cumaean gipsy : but 
 you shall judge for yourself. What bears the name of the 
 Sibyl's cave^ is nothing but a level subterraneous passage, 
 cut in a straight line through the rocky mountain. AVhcre 
 it ended, cannot at present be ascertained ; since, after 
 proceeding for about a hundred yards, the tunnel is choked 
 up by earth and stones: but before you come to this ter- 
 mination, and at about forty paces from it, there is an aper- 
 ture leading to some excavated apartments, into which our 
 cicerone carried me on his shoulders, the water on the 
 ground being upwards of a foot high. Coming from a hot 
 sun into this damp and cold grotto, a shivering fit in an 
 instant seized my whole frame to such a degree, that I felt 
 no inclination to explore the dreary recesses of this aquatic 
 labyrinth at the peril of my life. I instantly sounded a 
 retreat, and presently joined my friends, who, more pru- 
 dent, or less curious than me, had stayed at the outside 
 with my donkey. I have ever since been angry with my- 
 self at this piece of folly; and at this moment am not free 
 from dread, lest my inconsiderate antiquarian zeal be re- 
 warded by an ague or some feverish illness, which might, 
 in earnest, introduce me to the regions of the departed, 
 
 This soi-disant cave of the Sibyl is, in my humble opi- 
 nion, nothing else but the identical canal of communication 
 between lakes Avernus and Lucrinus : it is precisely in the 
 direction of both; and if such a canal existed, of which 
 many corroborative testimonies leave no manner of doulit, 
 it can scarcely have existed in any other place ; since 
 lake Avernus lies in a deep hollow, on all sides sur- 
 rounded by high rocks and mountains, like the crater of a 
 volcano. The circumstance of the main passage of the cave 
 being dry at present, is to be accounted for by the earth 
 
 and 
 
39 
 
 and rubbish which have raised its level, and by the volcanic 
 concussions which have totally altered the face of every 
 thing' in this little peninsula. The aquatic apartments were 
 probably baths : sea-baths, if they communicated with the 
 waters of the canal ; or mineral baths, if there was no con- 
 nexion between both. 
 
 Having cast a farewell glance on the beautiful lake 
 Avernus, I returned, mounted as before, and accompanied 
 by my two friends, to the sea-beach ; but finding that the 
 chillness which had seized my limbs in the Sibyl's cave, 
 would not yield to the burning rays of the sun, I consigned 
 Dapple to the cicerone, and tried to recover, by pedestrian 
 exercise, the lost balance of temperature. This plan, as to 
 myself, was attended with the wished-for result; at the 
 same time, that it proved the cause of a severe misfortune to 
 one of my fellow-travellers. Don Michele, probably from 
 fatigue, was going to avail himself of the vacant saddle, 
 when, in the act of mounting, a loud report announced the 
 laceration of his orange purple small-clothes. On an oc- 
 casion like this, I had good reason to expect a storm from a 
 man of his temper, but my fears were unfounded — a Nea- 
 politan is not to be put out of humour by a trifle, Don 
 Michele, after gravely examining the hiatus, which was 
 rendered doubly distressing by its locality and the want 
 of drawers, exclaimed with much composure, '' non c'e 
 gran danno ; namneno maraviglia, giacche siamo nel paese 
 d'eruzioni* : and wittily observing, that the cause of the 
 evil was best calculated for its concealment , he got on the 
 ass more cheerful, if any thing, than before. Some people 
 are greatest in misfortune ! 
 
 After 
 
 * The mischief is not so great, nor is it to be wondered at, since we are io the 
 country of eruptions. 
 
40 
 
 After proceeding" a little way along- the shore, the heat 
 of the soil became sensible, even through the soles of my 
 boots; and to convince me that subterraneous fire was the 
 cause, our cicerone desired 1 would put my hand into the 
 sea: the water felt cool, but the sand underneath quite hot. 
 We were close to the hot vapour baths of Tritoli, consist- 
 ing of a variety of excavations cut into a high-rock, on 
 whicli are scattered a number of ruins, evidently shewing' 
 that this place was much frequented by the invalids of an- 
 tiquity. The air here is strongly impregnated with saline 
 and sulphureous vapours, which, in some of the caverns, 
 are so excessive, as to cause instant perspiration. They are 
 said to afford a sure remedy for almost every chronic com- 
 plaint, particularly rheumatism and diseases of the skin. 
 We entered one of the apartments, where both the heat 
 and smell were intolerable. A fellow stripped himself to 
 go down a kind of a dry well, and presently ascended in so 
 violent a state of perspiration, that the drops ran down 
 from every part of his body. You may well suppose, dearT. 
 that I lost no time to get out of a place of this kind. 
 
 At this mountain begins the territory of Bajag — Bajff, the 
 pride and shame of ancient Rome. Who, that has tasted 
 of classic learning, does not recollect this celebrated spot, 
 its beautiful villas, temples, palaces of marble, baths, groves, 
 gardens, fish-ponds, houses of ill fame, the voluptuous and 
 dissolute life of its inhabitants, and even of the grave sena- 
 tors, who, from the toils of the Curia, hastened to enjoy its 
 sybaritic pleasures ? All is vanished ! and a desert, co- 
 vered with shapeless ruins, is left to attest the veracity of 
 historians — a melancholy instance of the instability of hu- 
 man affairs. Some centuries hence, perhaps, a foreign 
 wanderer will seek in vain the elegant villas, lawns, and 
 parks of Richmond and Hampton Court. The fate of 
 empires may be compared to the life of man : a good con- 
 stitution. 
 
41 
 
 stitution^ and a wise use of it^ may prolong- the duration of 
 both ; but decrepitude will, sooner or later, make its ap- 
 pearance, or foreign violence bring on sudden destruction. 
 From the latter, our insular situation greatly screens us; 
 we have to boast of every advantage in point of constitu- 
 tion ; the manner of using or abusing it, is therefore all we 
 have to look to. 
 
 Full of such reflections, and of others even more se- 
 rious, I looked down on the. little harbour of Bajag ; me- 
 thoLight I saw that infernal contrivance of naval mechanism 
 falling into pieces, and the unhappy Agrippina swimmhig 
 towards the shore for her life, which her monster of a son, 
 disappointed at the failure of his scheme, immediately after- 
 wards consio:ned to the sword of one of his creatures. — 
 What a picture of human depravity ! But Nero's guilt must 
 have been shared among a great number of his associates. 
 He that planned the construction of the vessel, even the 
 workmen that executed the design, the crew, the courtiers, 
 the ministers, all must have been privy to the horrid deed : 
 and Seneca, the moralist, — had his philosophy nothing to 
 say on this occasion? — or was he, perhaps, not displeased at 
 getting rid of the influence of an imperious woman? — per- 
 haps, even he was in the secret. But what exceeds all 
 belief,, the army and senate, according to Suetonius, con- 
 gratulated their worthy master on the happy event. 
 
 Let us turn from recollections so disgraceful to humanity, 
 to some of the most interesting objects that here offer them- 
 selves to the view of the modern traveller. The sea at Baja? 
 forms a safe port for vessels of small size ; a pier of solid 
 construction has been built, to facilitate the landing of goods 
 and mooring of ships, and a citadel of moderate strength 
 protects the coast and harbour. Two ancient edifices, in 
 ruins, stand at a small distance from each other on the 
 
 G beach : 
 
42 
 
 beach: the one at present bears the name of the temple of 
 Venus, the other of Diana. A little further in shore, a third 
 temple presents itself, of which our cicerone made a present 
 to Mercury. But to quote the fictitious names of heaps of 
 ruins, can give you no pleasure, although to an artist on 
 the spot, their fine proportions and elegant structure, as far 
 as time has preserved either, may aflbrd delight and in- 
 struction. You can scarcely form an idea of the immense 
 number of fiagments of ancient buildings, which here not 
 oidy cover the ground on all sides, as far as Misenum, but 
 are even visible beneath the sea : indeed, when we consi- 
 der that the environs were the general resort of the Roman 
 beaumonde, that this was the fixed station, chief arsenal, 
 and dock-yard of the principal Roman fleet, we may easily 
 account for the numerous architectural remains to be met 
 with on so celebrated a spot. 
 
 In our progress towards the Misenian cape, and on the 
 other side of the castle of Bajae, we arrived at the tomb of 
 Agrippina — not the mother of Nero, who, as I have before 
 said, was murdered nearly on the same spot, by the orders 
 of her son, — but her mother, the wife of the virtuous Ger- 
 manicus, who, like her husband, fell a victim to the hatred 
 of another imperial monster, the crafty tyrant, Tiberius. 
 An inscription, found on the spot, but no longer there, 
 leaves no doubt of the fact of this sepulchral monument 
 having been erected to her memory. I entered it with dif- 
 ficulty, through a hole at the bottom, and by the glimmer 
 of a candle, perceived the remains of some beautiful basso- 
 relievos in stucco, and painted ornaments along one of the 
 walls. 
 
 Close to the tomb of Agrippina, we were shewn into a 
 number of subterraneous apartments, some formed of brick, 
 others cut into tlje rock. At present they bear, appropri- 
 ately 
 
43 
 
 ately enough, the name of Cento Camerelle (hundred cham- 
 bers) : they are a sort of labyrinth of difficult access^ and 
 tlie trouble of creeping into some of the cells, feet foremost., 
 is very indifferently compensated by the little that is worth 
 seeing in them, and the want of authentic information as to 
 the destination of so gloomy an abode. Our cicerone, who 
 never seemed to be at a loss to answer questions, declared 
 the Cento Camerelle to have been the habitations of primi- 
 tive Christians, during the persecutions in the first centuries ; 
 and although I objected that it was very unlikely our pious 
 forefathers would have thought it prudent to seek shelter in 
 the neighbourhood of the palaces of their persecutors, Don 
 Michele, as usual, was of opinion, that the nearer they lived 
 to the place of danger, the less their residence would be 
 suspected, and, of course, the safer they would be from the 
 intrusion of power ; adding, by way of simile, that in a high 
 wind, one that was close to the houses had less to fear from 
 the falling of tiles and chinmies, than he that walked in the 
 middle of the street. You need not be told, that so acute 
 an observation was met with respectful silence on my part. 
 
 We were next led up hill to the Piscina Mirahile (the 
 wonderful fish-pond). This stupendous structure, whether 
 fish-pond or not, is, compared with otliei*s, in good preser- 
 vation, and has pre-eminent claims to admiration. I shall 
 first present you, dear T. with a brief description of its plan, 
 and then add what appears to me the most rational hypo- 
 thesis concerning its probable destination. The greatest 
 part of the building is, and I believe originally was, under 
 ground, above the surface of which it rises only a few feet, 
 where it is covered with a flat roof of masonry. Its form is 
 an obloug square, about sixty paces in length, and half as 
 much in breadth; two entrances, with staircases of about 
 forty steps, lead to the bottom, and forty-eight massy insu- 
 lated pilasters, in the shape of crosses, like those under our 
 
 G 2 Horse- 
 
44 
 
 Horse-Guards, regularly disposed in rows of twelve by four, 
 support a lofty roof: between these, two men may walk 
 a-breast. The interior walls and the pilasters are covered 
 with a stucco, not only impenetrable to water, but as hard 
 as marble itself; so much so, that from fragments, broken 
 off for that purpose, the lapidaries at Naples manufacture 
 very neat and well-polished snufl-boxes, a specimen of which 
 I shall have the pleasure of presenting- you with, in proof 
 of my veracity. Regular square openings at the top served 
 to admit light and air. It is not likely that such a stupen- 
 dous fabric should have been reared to keep fish in, al- 
 though the gluttony of some of the Roman emperors was 
 perfectly capable of such a waste of labour and expense. 
 The more probable opinion is, that this was the great re- 
 servoir of rain water for the jMisenian fleet ; and this sup- 
 position is considerably strengthend by the discovery of 
 some earthen pipes at the top, which are thought to have 
 served for the water being poured in by the sailors and sol- 
 diers during the winter season, when the tempestuous wea- 
 ther did not admit of the fleets putting to sea, and afforded 
 to the crews the leisure required for sueh an operation ; as 
 it was a maxim of the Roman government, to keep its de- 
 fenders employed at all times. At least the Mhole penin- 
 sula is destitute of springs of good water, a defect which 
 may be ascribed both to the sea and to the abundance of 
 volcanic matter under ground. 
 
 From the hill on which the Piscina Mirabile stands, we 
 enjoyed a charming prospect of Cape Misenum, which lay 
 immediately before us, and of the verdant island of Procita, 
 separated from the cape by a channel about half a mile in 
 breadth; but our antiquarian peregrination stopped shorl 
 of either. We were by this time nearly exhausted with 
 hunger and fatigue ; not that the distance we had travelled 
 was altogether considerable, but the researches among so 
 
 manv 
 
45 
 
 martiy ruinous edifices, at one time climbing over walls, at 
 another descending- below ground, or creeping on all-fours 
 through narrow passages, under repeated and sudden 
 transitions from heat to cold, required more bodily exertion 
 than a journey of perhaps treble the extent. The jack-ass 
 I had, as I already informed you, in the early stage of our 
 progress, consigned to Don Michele, whose misfortune cer- 
 tainly entitled him to this sacrifice of my own convenience, 
 however little, as the case turned out, he benefited by the 
 cession. He was unaccustomed to this sort of travelling, 
 and the rents in his garments appeared to have accelerated 
 the galling action of an obdurate saddle ; at least a conti- 
 nual locomotion or shifting, and a silence during the last 
 quarter of an hour, gave room to apprehend the existence 
 of such a grievance. In short, he declared his inability to 
 proceed any farther, and Don Giacomo adding that he had 
 ordered dinner to be ready at half past sixteen, it wa?, 
 nem. con. determined to return forthwith to Pozzuoli. 
 
 Owing to this resolve I find myself in an awkward dilemma 
 with you. Dear T. An account of Cape Misenum was pro- 
 mised you, and ought to stand in this place. Now, al- 
 though in many of oiu' modern travels it is no unusual thing 
 to meet with full and particular accounts of places, which 
 the author has never visited ; he trusting, in such cases, to 
 his own intuitive genius, and, perhaps, to the aid of some 
 dull, but correct writers that have pre-drudged through the 
 subject for him, like the drone which sucks the honey pre- 
 pared by the industrious bee : although, I repeat, such a 
 thing is perfectly warranted by the laws and ordinances of 
 book-making, yet, as I am not making a book, bntamwriting 
 a letter, a friendly letter to my dear T. to whom I have so- 
 lemnly promised to relate nothing but what my eyes have 
 
 seen seen? Stop! I have sef7i Misenum, 
 
 and very near too, although I may not absolutely have been 
 
 at 
 
46 
 
 at it. At any rate, I may therefore tell you what I hare 
 seen. The promontory is a moderate hill, or rather rock, 
 now without a town, which was destroyed by the Saracens 
 in the ninth century. Adjoining- to the cape, and directly 
 under our feet, lay the Dead Sea (Mare INIorto), across 
 which the inhabitants of the town used to ferry over their 
 funerals, to a place called the Elysian Fields, now Mercato 
 de Sabato, and still containing the remains of many sepul- 
 chres. The name ofoneoftheir sextons was Charon. A little 
 more to the right we saw another lake, the famous Acheron, 
 the waters of which were pestilential, like those of Avernus, 
 owinsT to their communicatiuf]: with the infernal regions. 
 And here, without recurring to Egyptian antiquity, you have 
 the warp into which the Roman poets, and particularly 
 Virgil, have so fancifully interwoven their beautiful mytho- 
 logical fictions of the topography of the empire of Pluto, 
 and of the fate of mankind after death ; in perfect imitation 
 of what Homer has left us on the same subject in his Odys- 
 sey. Of the superb port which Agrippa, the Colbert of 
 Augustus, built at Misenum, scarcely a trace remains; 
 much less of the monument w hich /Eneas erected here to 
 his companion Misenus, from whom the name of the cape 
 is derived. 
 
 At piu5 yEiicas ingenli mole scpalcrum 
 
 Imponit, suaque arma viro, rcinuraquc, (ubaiiique, 
 
 Monte sub aerio : qui nunc Misenus ab illo 
 
 Dicitur, aeternuiuque fenct per secula nomen. 
 
 ^NEin, VI. 232. 
 
 This prediction of Virgil, as to the duration of the ap- 
 pellation, stands to this day uninvalidated . His inons aerius 
 is generally explained as the noun proper of the hill, before 
 it changed its name; but when I inform you that the many 
 curious natural hollows, or perhaps artificial exeavations of 
 its rock, give it, in some measure, the resemblance of the 
 aerial and transparent nature of a Gothic building, you will, 
 perhaps, concur with me, that aei^ins may have been 
 
 meant 
 
47 
 
 meant as an epithet rather, than as tlie name it previously 
 went by. 
 
 After this desultory notice of the Misenian promontory, 
 I resume the thread of my narrative. It was not so much 
 the actual waste of our strength, as the prospect of the 
 long- journey back to Pozzuoli, and our presumptive ina- 
 bility to accomplish so arduous an undertaking in the heat 
 of the day, that had damped Don Michele's spirits as well 
 as my own. But here the good generalship, or rather the 
 provident good nature, of our worthy host, at once extri- 
 cated us from every difficulty. Like the knight in the ro- 
 mance, who, after wandering through wild deserts and 
 gloomy forests, reaches the sea-shore, where he espies a 
 gilded bark provided by the spell of a friendly fairy to waft 
 him to some blessed abode ; so we found, on our arrival at 
 the beach, a commodious boat ordered hither by the kind 
 Don Giacomo, At this welcome sight the countenance of 
 our fi'iend Michele underwent an instantaneous change from 
 7nesto to allegro vivace. "Bisogna dir," he exclaimed with 
 complacency, '• eke il nostro onoratissmio amico Don Gia-^ 
 como sa ordinare le cose a maraviglia *." Dapple was rode 
 home by the cicerone, and in less than half an hour we cut 
 the chord of the bay, and arrived at the house of our host in 
 Pozzuoli, where an ecclesiastic, invited to partake of Don 
 Giacomo's hospitality, had been waiting for us some time. 
 I was now introduced to the sister of the latter, a maiden 
 brunette of about twenty-two. I had hitherto laid it down 
 for certain, that the straight forehead and nose, and parti- 
 cularly the broad surface between the eyes on the Grecian 
 busts of women, were ideal beauties, invented by the 
 refined taste of the artists of antiquity. The features of 
 
 Donna 
 
 * It must be confessed our worthy /friend D. Giiicorao knows how to do things 
 
 in style. 
 
48 
 
 Donna Giuluinii taui^lit me not to make hypotheses too 
 rashly. The character of her lineaments approached nearest 
 to a Minerva, only the chin would have required an imper- 
 ceptible addition in point of rotundity and length. Her 
 feet, to pass from one extreme to the other, were adorned 
 with white shoes, silver spangled, and white silk stockings. 
 With these she wore a black silk gown, and a Venetian 
 
 necklace of gold. I fancy 1 hear Miss repeat my 
 
 words : " Black gown and white shoes and stockings !" 
 Aye, neither more nor less ; and you may tell her, that it 
 looks infinitely better than black stockings, which are never 
 worn here by the fair sex. Unable to resist the temptation 
 once in a way to be bold, I approached to salute the classic 
 model; but shoidd have met with little success, had not 
 the sapient Don Michele called out, good humouredly, 
 '^ Fate pure. Donna Giuliana, e costunie Inglese*." Now, 
 if the Pozzuolians are at all initiated in the logic of travel- 
 lers, they will set it down as the custom in England, to 
 kiss a lady when you first sec her. 
 
 You may conceive my disappointment at missing this 
 lady when we proceeded to dinner ; indeed, hungry as I 
 was, I peremptorily refused to sit down unless she joined 
 us ; and would have persisted in my determination, had 1 
 not been assured, that she had dined before us. In the 
 middling classes of Neapolitan society, you must know, 
 the ladies hold but an humble station ; so much so, that 
 when I informed our friends that in England the lady of 
 the house always .sat at the head of the table, they con- 
 ceived I was joking: and Don Michele very drily asked, 
 whether they had not a seat in parliament also ? This hu- 
 miliation of the fair sex is however, perfectly classic. The 
 
 ancients. 
 
 • Never mind, Donna G., it is the English fashion. 
 
49 
 
 ancients^ and especially the Greeks, whose manners and 
 customs were, in many respects, derived from the Orientals, 
 kept themselves equally aloof from the female part of their 
 family. 
 
 Our dinner was excellent; and since, to my recollection, 
 I have not yet treated you with an Italian bill of fare, it 
 may, perhaps, be entertainin;^ to you, to know some of the 
 national dishes which made their appearance at Don Gia- 
 como's hospitable board. The soup and bouilli were much 
 the same as ail over the Continent, except that the former 
 contained small pieces of ham, and, amon«^ other herbs, 
 much asparagus and purslain. At the four corners of the 
 table were placed as many piatti di rinfresco (restorative 
 dishes), consisting of small pieces of sausage, ham, olives, 
 capers, garlic, &c. all of which swam in a well-peppered 
 sauce of oil and vinegar. Of this a tea-spoonful is taken 
 from time to time to whet the appetite. Another dish con- 
 sisted of baked love-apples, the inside of which was filled 
 with a high-seasoned meat stufFmg. We had also a fry of 
 certain parts of a young ram, which are put to no use in 
 England, and which I forbear mentioning at present. This 
 is considered a great delicacy here, even by the ladies. 
 Maccaroni, as being too common, were not served up, but 
 raveoli in their stead. These consist of two small pieces of 
 flat paste, put together like the two shells of an oyster, and 
 containins: a rich stufFmo; of sweet herbs, "-arlic, and forced 
 meat; the whole boiled in water. You, that have an aver- 
 sion to garlic, will probably not envy this sumptuous fare : 
 but this bulb, so much decried in England, may be said to 
 be a necessary of life in these latitudes ; even the sailors 
 are constantly eating it raw, as ours would chew their pigtail 
 tobacco. The dish which pleased me most, as it was new 
 to me, was Tunny, cut in slices and broiled like a steak ; 
 eaten with lemon-juice, it tasted much like a vcal-cutlct ; 
 
 II so 
 
50 
 
 somucli so, that without being- othenvise informed, I should 
 have thought it butchers' meat, or any thing else than fish. 
 The principal vegetables were asparagus and green peas; 
 the latter of which, I am told, are in season all the year 
 round : and for our desert, we had, besides strawberries, 
 and cherries cooled with ice, a variety of sweetmeats and 
 confectionary, prepared by the nuns of a convent in Naples, 
 the exquisite taste of which would, I apprehend, render 
 even you, my dear T. a defender of these monastic con- 
 gregations. The wine was of the growth of the place, but 
 old and generous. Its goodness is such, that I am confi- 
 dent, if the red wine of Pozzuoli were prepared for our 
 London markets, that is to say, drammed up with brandy 
 or alcohol, it would equal, if not excel, what is called port 
 wine in England. 
 
 Over such a good dinner, you may well suppose, many 
 a ffood thino' was said on one side or another. Don Mi- 
 chele, in particular, was in full glee, and less sarcastic than 
 ever I knew him ; and Donna Giuliana, who, at my earnest 
 request, was invited to pour out the coffee at least, diffused 
 the lovely emanations of her beautiful countenance and her 
 urbanity over all the guests. Even the ecclesiastic, who 
 had hitherto confined his conversation to the praise of the 
 dainties which he submitted seriatim to the review of his 
 experienced palate, began to attempt other topics, and said 
 as follows, addressing himself to your humble servant: 
 '' No doubt, Signor D. Luigi, the temples, baths, sepul- 
 chres, and other antiquities, which you have been at such 
 pains to explore this morning", are well worth the attention 
 of a gentleman of your taste and erudition ; yet there is one 
 curiosity which you have not seen, although it surpasses all 
 the rest as much as the English nation exceeds us poor Ne- 
 apolitans in industry, learning, and bravery, and which I 
 shall be proud of shewing to you before you leave Pozzu- 
 oli." 
 
51 
 
 oil." After sucli a captalio benevoleritice, I could not refuse 
 complying- with the good father's invitation, assuring him, 
 that ever since the presence of Donna Giuliana, I had been 
 convinced that the antiquities on the other side of the bay, 
 were by no means the most interesting- objects for a travel- 
 ler who made any pretensions to taste. " I am doubly 
 beholden to Signor Don Luigi/' replied the charming Juli- 
 ana, '' for assigning tome the first rank among the antiqui- 
 ties of Pozzuoli " I declaimed most strenuously against such 
 an unwarrantable interpretation of my words, adding, that 
 if even an unlucky turn of expression, in a language so new 
 to me, were feubject to that inference, I could only say, that 
 such was my veneration of the beauties of the antique, that 
 a comparison with its excellence was the highest degree of 
 praise in ?n^ power to bestow. The pious father's impa- 
 tience did not suffer this polite controversy to branch out 
 into any further repartee, but interrupted us by declaring, 
 that as soon as he had enjoyed his afternoon's repose, he 
 would make good his promise, and shew us the self-same stone 
 on which their holy protector, St. Januarius, had been be- 
 headed for professing Christianity ; nay, even the drops of 
 his precious blood, which, by an unparalleled miracle, had 
 indelibly adhered to it to this day ; and although of a pale 
 brown colour, would turn into a fresh red on every anniversary 
 of his martyrdom. '" Itwillbelabourin vain," observed the 
 arch Don Michele: '' these English gentlemen are philo- 
 sophers ; they believe nothing but what they see, and even 
 scarcely that ; so we had better save ourselves the trouble 
 of the pilgrimage." '' But this he shall see, and there- 
 fore will believe it." With this curious syllogism the re- 
 verend father rose from table, promising that he would cur- 
 tail his rest, in order to return in time for the exhibition. 
 
 Our worthy host now opened a door, and pointed to the 
 Btate-bcd which was to serve for my siesta: but I informed 
 
 H 2 him 
 
b2 
 
 him that I was unaccustomed to that kind of repose ; and 
 therefore would, if he gave me pen and ink, employ the 
 time of his and my friends' absence, by making a few me- 
 morandums of the things we had been to see. 
 
 This request being forthwith granted, we separated. In 
 the evening I w^as awoke from my chair by the laughter of 
 friend Micliele, who, with Don Giacomo, entered my room. 
 On seeing the blank paper before me, the former observed, 
 '' These kind of memorandums might, in my opinion, just 
 as well have been made on a comfortable bed, as on a hard 
 chair. But be that as it may, we have not a moment to 
 lose; the evening is far advanced, and much remains to be 
 seen in the little daylight left us." Expecting, with per- 
 haps a heavier heart than the holy martyr himself, to be led 
 to the place of his execution, I enquired if Father Anselm, 
 our spiritual cicerone, had arrived. " No," replied my 
 friend ; '' we mean, if possible, to give him the slip ; which 
 I am sure you will not object to, as it will save us a tedi- 
 ous long journey. So the sooner we depart the better." 
 Obeying instantly this welcome call, I accompanied Dons 
 Giacomo and Michele^ through the town to the temple of 
 Serapis, 
 
 This was one of tlie most interesting and picturesque 
 ruins I had yet seen ; and the removal of the ground, by 
 order of government, enables you to form a tolerably cor- 
 rect idea of the plan of the building. The portico of the 
 temple, of which three gigantic marble columns are left 
 standing, was facing one of the sides of a large quadrangu- 
 lar court ; round which, rows of .small apartments or cells 
 are placed, like the boxes in some of our tea-gardens; a 
 terraced walk, in front of these cells, surrounded a pond of 
 water ; and, in the middle of the latter, rises a round insular 
 terrace, on which the victims were probably sacrificed, 
 
 since 
 
63 
 
 since some massy iron rings are fastened to the floor, to 
 which it may be supposed the sacred animals were attached. 
 Of the temple itself, little remains besides the portico ; and 
 of the latter, one pillar is thrown down, and some exquisite 
 fragments of capitals, and pieces of entablature, lie scat- 
 tered on the ground. It is undoubtedly the depth with 
 w^hich the ornaments of ancient architecture are chiselled 
 out, that contributes in a great measure towards their pre- 
 eminence over our modern works of a similar nature. The 
 deep hollows produce a magical effect of light and shade 
 not often to be met with in the superficial excavations of 
 the lapidaries of the present day, which, at the proper dis- 
 tance, are lost to the eye. The ancient artists studied, 
 above all, effect; they even would, in some instances, com- 
 mit a deliberate error in design, if such error was conducive 
 to the impression or eilcct intended. The temple of Sera- 
 pis has for a length of time been buried under-ground, 
 and even under water; the first was probably owing to 
 earthquakes, the latter evidently to the encroachments of 
 the sea, which is now about forty or fifty yards distant. 
 Hence an extraordinary natural curiosity, which will appear 
 to you incredible. Not only the fragments of marble on 
 the ground, but even the erect pillars, are, up to a great 
 height, perforated with innumerable little holes, about half 
 an inch in diameter, worked with such precision, as if done 
 by the chisel. On a more narrow inspection, the wonderful 
 cause of this phenomenon is apparent : many of these cir- 
 cular passages penelrate deep into the body of the stone, 
 and contain a shell belonging to the species called dactijhis 
 (fmger-muscle, from its shape.) This little shell-fish may, 
 during a former innvmdation of the sea, have gradually 
 worked its way into the stone, and, outgrowing in bulk the 
 capacity of the road it had formed, was probably thus left 
 in the cavities where it is now discovered. However loth 
 
 you 
 
54 
 
 you may be to credit this, I can assure you, dear T. of the 
 fact, and its explanation seems to me perfectly natural. 
 
 As we were leaving- this place, we perceived Father An- 
 selmo making up to us w ith hasty steps. Before he had 
 recovered his breath, he would insist on taking us to the 
 chapel; and it was with no uncommon exertion of argu- 
 ment, and only after a solemn promise, that I would on an 
 early day return purposely to Pozzuoli, to visit the decapi- 
 tation stone of St. Januarius, that 1 escaped for the present 
 the tedious pilgrimage. 
 
 In his company, therefore, we walked to what is called 
 the bridge of Caligula. It consists of about a dozen massy 
 piers, stretching at regular distances, and in rather a curved 
 < direction, from Pozzuoli into the sea towards Bajae. Some 
 of the piers still support the fragments of brick arches ; 
 others have been deprived of them by the ravages of time. 
 Caligula,the imperial madman,certainly erected abridge from 
 Pozzuoli to Bajae, to confound, or rather to corroborate, the 
 prediction of Thrasyllus, the mathematician, who declared 
 to old Tiberius, that Caligula would no more be his suc- 
 cessor in the Roman empire, than he would travel on horse- 
 back from Pozzuoli to Bajae, hi/ sea. This was quite enough 
 for an idiot who possessed power and folly sufficient to put 
 such a scheme in execution. His triumphal pageant across 
 this new communication is in every body's recollection. 
 One day, this amiable descendant of the Fabii, the Scipio's, 
 the Metelli, and Julius Caesar, paraded backwards and for- 
 wards on horseback ; and the next, he chose to perform 
 the same precious journey in a splendid car: but then, un- 
 fortunately, this Caligulian bridge happened to be a bridge 
 of boats anchored along side each other, and sustaining 
 planks, on which a facsimile of the Appian way was 
 
 pourtraycd 
 
55 
 
 poortrayed with. earth and stucco. These piers, therefore, 
 must have been something else ; and what else, but a mole 
 for the port of Pozzuoli, which was one of the greatest 
 commercial harbours on the peninsula, and is often, by the 
 ancient writers, designated by the name of emporium. The 
 open space between the piers does not stand in the way of 
 this hypothesis: the weaves, in a situation so sheltered al- 
 ready by nature, would be sufficiently broken by the piers, 
 to allay the violence of the water which entered through 
 the arches; and, on the other hand, the openings served to 
 carry off, by the reflux, the sand and other matter, which 
 otherwise, might have choaked up the port. A mole of 
 such original construction was perfectly w^ell calculated for 
 the placid seas in the bay of Bajae, but would be of little use 
 on the dangerous coasts of Norfolk or Cornwall, 
 
 The sun left us while standing on one of the piers ; and 
 although his departure put a premature end to the day's 
 prospectus, yet his setting was so beautiful, so sublime ; the 
 rosy tints cast over every object of this delightful bay were 
 so rich, so glowing, that I did not for a moment repine, at 
 being by such a sight, prevented from completing our day's 
 work. Twilight in these latitudes is so short, that we were 
 already sure of arriving by night at Naples; we therefore 
 returned in excellent spirits to the house of our friend, Don 
 Giacomo, where a cold collation was waiting for us. Of this 
 the reverend Father Anselm not only partook as freely as he 
 had done at dinner, but recollecting the bottled porter with 
 which I had presented our host, he suggested the propriety 
 of tasting a liquor hitherto unknown to his well-informed 
 palate : but no sooner had the poor divine sipped the first 
 draught, than he ejected it on the floor, exclaiming, with a 
 woeful coutenance, Questo e una medicina* !" Don Gia- 
 como 
 
 * This is pure physic. 
 
66 
 
 como relished it as little ; but. Don JMichcle, who, in order 
 to adapt his spirit of contradiction to the occasion, had 
 waited their o})inion, declared he had never drunk any 
 tiling more to his taste, and that the Neapolitans were 
 downright ciiicci*, for not knowing- how to prepare so ex- 
 cellent and refreshing a bcveraoe. 
 
 We now prepared for our departure. To Father Anselni 
 I was under the necessity of solemnly repeating- the pro- 
 mise of returning very soon, in order to visit the tomb of St. 
 Januarius; after which, I had to undergo the operation 
 of kissing, not quite, however, so reluctantly as on my 
 arrival. Six of these salutations were unfortunately of 
 the masculine gender; yet, after all, they were a cheap 
 consideration for the three I gave to (and, I believe, re- 
 ceived from) the beautiful lips of Juliet. To the worthy 
 Don Giacomo I said every thing which gratitude for his 
 kind reception could suggest; and, when starting, the lovely 
 Giuliana threw an a rhederla f after me, which sounded 
 more harmonious to my ears than any thing I have yet 
 heard in this musical country. Fear not, good Anselmo ! 
 the stone of the saint shall not long remain unseen ? 
 
 It was almost dark ; but Don Michele, to beguile the 
 way, and render the journey entertaining, related several 
 stories of robberies and murders committed on our road, 
 which he illustrated by pointing out the particular spots at 
 which these misdeeds had been perpetrated. The fact was, 
 liis fears had got the better of his courage ; for when we 
 arrived at the foot of Mount Posilipo, he resolutely declared 
 that he would on no account go the solitary cross-road over 
 the mountain. Nothing, therefore, remained but to pass 
 
 through 
 
 ♦ Asses (vulgar Ncapol.) 
 i Let us foon see you again. 
 
57 
 
 through la Grotta. I observed^ in vain, that it was not 
 improbable we might break our necks in that dark and 
 dreary subterraneous excavation. " He would rather break 
 his neck than be murdered," Knowing his obstinacy from 
 experience, 1 drove in. We had not penetrated one-third 
 of this dismal cavern, when the rattling^ of a cart, and a 
 fellow's bawling out. Alia marina* , frightened the horse 
 to such a degree, that no whipping could make him stir an 
 inch. I called to the cart to stop; and conceiving that, 
 with a rider on him, the animal might be brought to move, 
 I begged Don Michele to mount him, while 1 held the 
 reins, " No7i saggio cavalcare io, aggio cavalcato bastanza 
 sta mattinasuV asino-f." The execution of the scheme fell 
 therefore to my share, and, fortunately, it succeeded. But 
 in this ludicrous manner had I to drive through part of the 
 city, till we got somebody to take my place ; for the obsti- 
 nacy of the animal was as great as that of my fellow-travel- 
 ler, he was determined not to go on any other way. How- 
 ever, we reached home at last, as tired as you, my dear T. 
 will probably be of this preposterously long letter, or, rather,- 
 pamphlet. I have no excuse for my prolixity, but the de- 
 sire I felt to impart to you some of the pleasure which this 
 journey has afforded me. The hasty description of it, which 
 I here present you with, will not bear a comparison with 
 the finished and elegant letters I am in the habit of receiv- 
 ing from you. Mine are the uncouth rhapsodies of an in- 
 valid, who is desirous not to leave so interesting and beau- 
 tiful a country, without commemorating for his friend 
 
 whatever 
 
 * To the seo'Side. To avoid running against each other in the Grotta di Posilipo, 
 it is customary to call out ^Ua viarinay (towards the sea) ; or, Alia montagna (to- 
 wards the mountain). 
 
 t I can't ride on horseback, not I ; I have rode enough this moitiing co the ta. 
 
68 
 
 whatever his Hvictuatiii'^ health permits him to see and 
 to record ; and even in this endeavour I am often balked 
 by the dictatorial mandates of an unrelenting physician. I 
 am completely in the situation of Tantalus. 
 
 Owing to these impediments, I have hitherto been 
 obliged, with the exception of the Bajan trip, to confine 
 my researches to the immediate vicinity of Naples. Mount 
 Vesuvius is absolutely prohibited to me; and it v^ill be a 
 
 great favour of Dr 's, if he allows me to visit Pompeji 
 
 next week, a journey which I have most anxiously longed 
 for ever since ray arrival, and for which I have made every 
 preparation in my pow^er, w ith regard to such information 
 as may enable me to see, with the greatest possible advan- 
 tage, a place which surpasses, in my opinion, every thing 
 left us by the ancients. If I go, you may expect to receive 
 some epistles full as tedious as the present : those, however, 
 I shall send, if possible, by private opportunities, to save you 
 the postage, which they are not worth. Captain C. who 
 goes home by the way of France, will deliver this into your 
 hands : he w ill be able to tell you w hat sort of a life I lead 
 ill this city, and satisfy your friendly enquiries after my 
 health, better perhaps than all that can be said on this 
 subject by 
 
 Your's, &c. 
 
 LETTER V. 
 
 Naples, May — , 1803. 
 
 My dear T. 
 
 NEVER, never, did I miss more the presence of my 
 good friend, the companion of my early rambles through 
 life, than yesterday, when I rested my weary limbs on the 
 
 neat 
 
 I 
 
59 
 
 neat counter of an oil-shop, kept by —,a cotemporary of 
 
 Vespasian .; the olive juice was dried up to a caput mortuum 
 in three larg;e jars fixed in another counter, and a score in 
 red chalk on the wall adjoining-, graphically demonstrated 
 the poor man's business not to have been altogether a ready 
 money concern. So then, the ancient Romans went upon 
 tick as well as ourselves! Mark that, en passant, as an 
 important antiquarian fact. Whether poor Olearius ever 
 got paid for the fourteen quarts and five pints, or whether, 
 like the black sponge carried in the Gordian flincy of 
 our extinguishers of the national debt, the volumes of 
 Vesuvian ashes at one puflf liquidated all accounts, by over- 
 whelming books and goods, and debtor and creditor, in one 
 common ruin, or whether Nay, whither am I roam- 
 ing again in this wild manner? I was going to say, what 
 I am sure you have already guessed at — I have been to 
 Pompeji I — Pompeji, the gold mine of antiquity, the greatest 
 classic jewel on earth. All the Museums in Europe, all the 
 ponderous folios of a Montfaucon, a Lipsius, and the host 
 of antiquarian authors, dwindle into insignificance when 
 compared with the sight of an elegant Graeco-Roman town 
 resuscitated from an oblivion of upwards of sixteen centu- 
 ries, in a state of perfection as if inhabited but yesterday; 
 the beautiful mosaic pavements uninjured ; the colours of 
 the paintings fresher than in many a picture of modern 
 artists after the lapse of a few years ; domestic utensils in 
 their proper places ; the horses' corn in their manger ; the 
 frying-pan over the fire, where the cook had placed it anno 
 81, only the meat done to a cinder. Such, my dear T. 
 would even at this moment have been the face of Pompeji, 
 had not almost every thing movable, nay, immovable too, 
 been carried away to be entombed in museums. What sen- 
 sations, what reflections, must have rushed upon the be- 
 holder of these wonders ! Of my own reveries over the rem- 
 nants, I will spare you the perusal : the wish, however, to 
 
 I 2 have 
 
60 
 
 have had you at my side to see and feel with me^ was the 
 common refrain of every one of them. As it was, I had no 
 one with whom 1 could share my pleasure, to wiiom I could 
 communicate my feelings at so novel a sight. Don Michele, 
 indeed, had accompanied me again on this excursion ; but 
 his surly temper, his everlasting doubts and objections, 
 served only as a drawback on the intellectual enjoyment of 
 which Pompeji presents so ample a harvest. Only hear one 
 instance of his oddity, of the perverse turn of his ratiocination. 
 The cold replies which I received to some of my expres- 
 sions of admiration at the objects around us, convinced me 
 presently that he participated but little in my gratification ; 
 but I was far from suspecting the monstrous hypothesis 
 which his brains were breeding: all the while, and the birth 
 of which was only retarded by the too close presence of 
 our guide. No sooner had we ascended the elevated 
 steps of the theatre, leaving the guide in the arena, than he 
 assumed a most knowing look, and addressed me to the fol- 
 lowing purport: " I see, Don L. you are filled with asto- 
 nishment at all these things, and I assure you mine is as 
 great: although, I own, it proceeds from a very different 
 cause. What 1 wonder at, is that a man of your sense, 
 who has learned and seen so much, should suffer himself 
 to be imposed upon in such a barefaced way by this artifi- 
 cial rubbish, reared on purpose to deceive those that in their 
 blind antiquarian zeal can swallow the dose so artfully pre- 
 pared for them. Pompeji indeed ! Believe me, dear sir, 
 none of these structures, columns, painted walls, and other 
 antiquarian nonsense, are even of so old a date as our house 
 on the Infrescata, the building of which I perfectly remem- 
 ber. All you here behold has been fabricated (at an im- 
 mense expense to be sure) by our Neapolitan government, 
 partly out of a foolish pride, but chiefly to attract travellers 
 from all parts of Europe, and to make them spend their 
 money in the kingdom. The practicability of such a 
 
 scheme 
 
61 
 
 scheme you certainly will not deny. But what I assert, 
 rests on confidential information derived from unquestiona- 
 ble authority. Whenever any of these pretended excava- 
 tions were carrying on, the greatest care was taken not to 
 admit any one but those (hat were absolutely necessary to 
 the execution of the work : much was done by night ; sculp- 
 tors, architects, and painters, were sent for from Rome to 
 further the cheat; in short, the greatest secrecy and mystery 
 was used in the whole operation, and is so to this day. Not 
 but that now and then the cloven foot is discernible: the 
 town is paved wilh lava from Mount Vesuvius, whose 
 very first eruption, we know, caused its destruction. Do 
 you see any of those beautiful marble columns with which 
 all the ancient temples and towns were decorated? No! 
 here they are made of brick-work stuccoed over, because, 
 forsooth, such ones may be got up in a little time ; and as 
 for the paintings, they may be fresh indeed, but no man will 
 persuade me that they would be so had they been exposed 
 to the most violent eruption of a volcano, and, after that, 
 lain very superficially buried for near 2000 years, exposed 
 to alternate changes of heat and rain. Only look at Torre 
 del Greco ! do you imagine our descendants 2000 years 
 hence will by digging restore that unfortunate place, or find 
 anything but ashes and lava? Why even the brass and 
 iron work was melted in an instant. But to return to Pom- 
 peji : have these would-be excavators found any trea- 
 sures of money, jewels, or plate? Oh no! the people they 
 tell you had run off with their valuables and left the empty 
 
 chests behind I see you smile, Don L. Well ! if 
 
 after what I have taken the liberty to point out, you can 
 still stomach the joke, much good may it do to you, and the 
 recital of these wonders to your countrymen. One thing, 
 however, I am sure of: if the question had been about some 
 miracle or mystery of our holy religion, you would not have 
 lent your faith at so cheap a rate, you would not have been 
 
 at 
 
62 
 
 at a loss to start a thousand scruples and objections ; so it 
 be but antiquity, all is gospel. But no matter^, every one 
 in his own way. Mundus vult decipi ergo '* 
 
 Well, dear T. what do you say to the heterodoxical te- 
 nets of tliis unclassic heretic ? At all events they have the 
 merit of originality. To have endeavoured to refute them 
 by argument would have been in vain, nor had I indeed a 
 mind to lose the most precious moments of my life in so un- 
 profitable a discussion. Giving the good man to under- 
 stand that every one was at liberty to form his own opinion 
 in matters of doubt, I continued my researches. Unfortu- 
 nately for human nature, Don INIichele is not the first, nor 
 probably will be the last, to rack his brains for delusive 
 sophisms, by which to kick truth fi*om before his feet. 
 
 Thus far, dear T. had I written yesterday, intending to 
 resume the thread of my narrative this morning in the same 
 
 desultory way, when on going to dinner at Mr.W 's (an 
 
 English merchant in the city, in whose house I have been 
 received with true British hospitality), I was agreeably sur- 
 prised on finding your short letter of the , directed to 
 
 me at Malta. Are you aware, my good friend, what task 
 you are assigning to my feeble powers? These are your 
 own words, which I make free to repeat, lest you haTe 
 forgotten the Augean labour they impose upon me : " You 
 no doubt will make the discoveries in the ancient cities of 
 Herculaneum, Stabiae, and Pompeji in particular, the prin- 
 cipal objects of your classic enquiries at Naples. You 
 know how often those interesting ruins have been the sub- 
 ject of our evening's chat at B.'s, how disappointed we felt 
 at the vague and scattered notices we could glean of them. 
 Believe me, I do not envy you for being in the midst of the 
 
 originals ; 
 
63 
 
 originals ; on the contrary, I congratulate myself on having 
 a friend on the spot, from whom I may expect more satisfac- 
 tory observations on every thing relating to those classic 
 towns, than I could have made had I been there myself. I 
 long; for a concise account of their destruction, the time and 
 manner of their discovery, a description of every house, tem- 
 ple, theatre, &c. ; of the painting's, statues, utensils, trin- 
 kets, &c. ; of the manuscripts, the method of unrolling 
 them, the progress already made : in short, of any thing, 
 however trifling, which can attract your attention. For all 
 this and much more, I am sure I shall not long in vain. J 
 know you are able and willing to grant my request." 
 
 Willing, certainly; able, by no means; at least not to 
 the extent of your systematic prospectus. It was with much 
 difficulty I obtained my physician's leave to visit Pompeji, 
 and only on the express condition that I was not to venture 
 into the subterraneous excavations of Herculaneum. The 
 latter interdict I regretted the less, as from the memoran- 
 dums of a friend who descended into that gloomy place (and 
 of which I shall make some occasional use in the following 
 pages), I find the trouble, and danger to my health, would 
 have been ill repaid. You will further observe, that the 
 Neapolitan court, in their flight from hence to Palermo, 
 packed up and took with them the most valuable statues 
 and other antiquities ; although what remains in the mu- 
 seum at Portici still affords matter for much curious spe- 
 culation. 
 
 Thus much I think it right to state by way of proviso, 
 trusting that, coupled with the circumstance of my indispo- 
 sition, it will operate as an excuse ; if, which 1 know must be 
 the case, the following account of Herculaneum, Pompeji, 
 and Stabiae, fall short of your sanguine expectations and of 
 my own wishes. 
 
 Wlien 
 
64 
 
 When it is considered that among the ancients g-eography 
 had not arrived at that degree of perfection which has raised 
 itto the rank of a science among the moderns^we shall not be 
 surprised at the scanty information aflbrded us by the au- 
 thors of antiquity respecting the three provincial towns 
 which form the subject of the present enquiry. The mea- 
 ger notices to be collected from Pliny, Strabo, Dio^ Seneca, 
 Suetonius, and perhaps other writers, are scarcely sufficient 
 to indicate their respective sites ; and our estimation of 
 their former condition and importance, is rather derived 
 from the discovery of their remains, than from any thing 
 those authors have left us. 
 
 Herculaneum 
 was situated on a point of land stretching into the gulph 
 of Naples, about two miles distant from that city, nearly 
 where the modern towns of Portici and Resina, and the 
 royal palace, which separates both, now stand. The neck 
 of land on which it stood, and which is now no more, formed 
 a small harbour. Hence the appellation ofHerculis Porticum 
 sometimes given to Herculaneum, and thence, probably, 
 the modern name of Portici. The latter indeed, I am in- 
 formed, is absolutely above some of the excavations of Her- 
 culaneum; and the just fear of endangering the safety of 
 Portici by undermining it, is stated as one of the principal 
 reasons of the little progress hitherto made in the Hercula- 
 nean discoveries. It would certainly be carrying classic zeal 
 too far to risk the existence of a flourishing modern town 
 for the sake of exploring one already in ruins, at the depth 
 of 60 feet and upwards below the other. This apparent 
 submersion and total change in the face of the country, may 
 naturally be attributed to the repeated accumulation of 
 ashes, sand, and other volcanic matter thrown out from 
 Mount Vesuvius. But not only does Herculaneum lie so 
 much below the present surface of the land, it is even con- 
 siderably 
 
65 
 
 srderably lower than the level of the sea, which latter, there- 
 fore, must have risen greatly since its destruction. The 
 former extent and importance of this town may be judged 
 of by the size of its beautiful theatre and forum; and if you 
 are inclined to g-ive to an inscription found there in red 
 chalk on a wall, the same serious interpretation as some 
 Neapolitan antiquarians, and even Winckelmann, have 
 done, you will allow that a place which boasted of nine 
 hundred taverns or public houses, could not but have been 
 of considerable magnitude. But here is the inscription: 
 
 In praediis Julice Sp. F. Felicislocantur balneum venerium 
 et nongentum tabernoe perguloe coenacula ex idibus Aug. 
 primis in idus Aug. sextets annos coniinuos quinque s. q. d. 
 I. e. n. c. A. Suettium verum. Acd. 
 
 Now, I confess, were I to see on a dead wall in London 
 an advertisement to the same effect, i. e. To be let, situated 
 on the estate of Miss Julia Felix, daughter of Sp. Felix, Esq, 
 a balneum venerium, as also nine hundred gin-shops or 
 eating-houses, ^c. ^c. I should be inclined to take the whole 
 for a joke or pasquil passed by some wag upon poor IMiss 
 Juliet. But supposing all were in good earnest, no infer- 
 ence on the size of Herculaneum is warrantable from the 
 inscription : the estate of Julia need not to have been in 
 the town where it is advertised ; it might, for ought we 
 know, be situated on the other side of the Po. — How- 
 ever, use your own judgment on this important point; only, 
 if I have missed the mark in my antiquarian illustration, 
 consider, it is my maiden essay in this line ! 
 
 POMPEJI 
 
 is about seven miles from Herculaneum in a south-east di- 
 rection, a very little to the left of the great road from Naples 
 to Salerno. Its trade, according to Strabo, was considera- 
 
 K ble; 
 
66 
 
 ble ; the inland commodities received from Nola^ Noceray 
 und otiicr places in that district, were there exchanged for 
 transmarine goods brought up the river Sarno. Of the porty 
 however, which it is said to have possessed, no trace re- 
 mains ; its distance from the sea is upwards of a mile at pre- 
 sent, owing probably to volcanic additions of territory, not 
 to the retiring of the sea, which, as I have shewn above, 
 has rather advanced, than receded, in these regions. Per- 
 haps, too, the sea may at all times have been as far off as 
 it now is; and what Strabo calls a port, was vei-y likely a 
 basin, or wet dock, formed by the Sarno, similar to the fine 
 basin at Bruges, or to the West India docks now building 
 in England. But whatever may have been the trade of 
 Pompeji, there can be no doubt, from its remains, that, both 
 in size and importance, it greatly surpassed Herculaneum. 
 It had two theatres, one a very large one ; its barracks prove 
 it to have been a military station ; and the length of the 
 high street, as well as the elegant apartments in many of its 
 houses, together with the variety of fine specimens of the 
 plastic arts, sufficiently attest its former extent and opulence. 
 
 STABIiE 
 
 has not yet been visited by me ; perhaps I shall not go 
 thither at all. Nothing but some remains of villas, stript 
 of all that is worth seeing, are to be seen there. The town 
 itself had been destroyed in the civil wars of Sylla, long 
 before the calamity which befel the two other places. Its 
 situation was still further to the south-east of the volcano 
 than Pompeji, nearly where the modern Gragnano stands. 
 
 Thus much, my dear T. for the situation and former con- 
 dition of these Vesuvian towns; now to the mode and time 
 of their destruction, then to the manner and period of their 
 
 discovery^ 
 
67 
 
 discovery, and finally3 to the buildings, remains of art, and 
 manifold objects of curiosity actually found in their bosom. 
 YoU see, my plan at least is perfectly made up according to 
 prescription, progressively systematic. As for the execu- 
 tion, God knows how I shall get through it. You know 
 my antipathy to systems; you recollect, I dare say, the 
 friendly altercation which took place, a few days before my 
 departure, at Somerset-house, when I was for examininir 
 first the most important pictures in preference to beginning 
 the review at the door of every room in the exhibition, as 
 proposed by you. You then indulged my eccentric pro- 
 pensity. I now curb it into the regular track chalked out 
 by 3^0 wr mandate. All fair! a few side-way flights, how- 
 ever, I fear you will have to put up with. 
 
 The destruction, then, of these tov* ns took place 
 
 (upon my word, if you saw the vibrating motion of my fore- 
 finger behind my left ear, and the concomitant ascent of 
 both eyebrows, you would feel for my perplexity on this 
 head). 'Tis no easy matter for me to say precisely when 
 they were subterranized. The big wigs differ: let them 
 speak for themselves. 
 
 Seneca. — Pompeji almost totally destroyed by earthquake 
 in the time of Nero. 
 
 Suetonius. — Among the calamities which befel the Roman 
 empire during the reign of Titus, is the '' conflagration" 
 of Vesuvius. — Commissioners were appointed to conduct the 
 " restoration" of Campania, ruined by that dreadful erup- 
 tion ; and the property of those that had lost their lives and 
 left no heirs, was, by a decree of that emperor, appropriated 
 to the relief of the suftering tow ns. 
 
 Dio. — The eruption of Vesuvius^ under Titus's reign^ 
 
 R 2 over- 
 
68 
 
 overwhelmed, at the same time, the towns of Herculaneum 
 and Pompeji, just when the inhabitants of the latter place 
 were assembled in the theatre. 
 
 Pliny (But you recollect his letter about the death 
 
 of his uncle : 'tis a long story, not to be repeated here.) 
 
 Now, if we believe Seneca and Dio — as to Suetonius, his 
 story we may qualify one way or the other, the man men- 
 tions no names; — if we credit the two others, the case must 
 stand as follows : — 1st, Pompeji, as it stood in Titus's rcigu, 
 had been rebuilt iu the short space of time intervening be- 
 tween Nero and Titus, about twelve years ; — and, 2ndly, 
 thousands of people were buried under the ashes in the 
 Theatre. Both these deductions, however, are contrary to 
 facts : not a soul, or at least not a bone, was found on clear- 
 ing the theatre; and that, as well as other edifices, bear 
 indubitable marks of a much higher age than twelve, or even 
 twenty years : yet, after all, it is difficult to exclude Seneca's 
 evidence ; he was a cotemporary, he was Nero's mini- 
 ster. There certainly is a way to get rid of him, but I am 
 almost afraid to propose it. As a financier, he might have 
 been desirous of raising a new tax, under the pretext of re- 
 lieving the sufferers by the Canipanian earthquake, which, 
 likely enough, was not near so bad as he made it. 
 
 But, say you, Avhat «?'e we to believe, then? Why, do 
 as I do in awkward predicaments like this, when something 
 must be believed : take that for truth which the generality 
 of people take as such, and store up your doubts for parti- 
 cular occasions when you wish to make a figure with your 
 learning. Let us, therefore, believe that the destruction of 
 Herculaneum, Pompeji, and of what remained of Stabiae, 
 was occasioned by the pretended Jirst eruption of Vesuvius 
 on the first day of November, in the year 81 of our christian 
 
 a;ra. 
 
69 
 
 aera. How the sgavans of antiquity could set this down as 
 the first eruption, I am at a loss to conceive. The streets 
 of Pompeji are paved with lava ; and lava, as well as other 
 volcanic materials, are intermixed in the walls of many 
 houses ; nay, the latter are even built on volcanic soil. It 
 can but, therefore, have been the first eruption thei/ knew 
 of; and anterior ones must have taken place, but at such a 
 remote distance of time, as not to be within the reach of 
 history or tradition. 
 
 With regard to the meansf which immediately occasioned 
 the ruin of Herculancum, Pompeji, and Stabiie, it is evident 
 that they were not the same. Herculaneum, and every 
 thing in it, was, in the first instance, overwhelmed with a 
 deep stratum of hot mud, which was immediately followed 
 by a torrent of lava ; so that, in the excavation of it_, the 
 upper crust of lava is first to be pierced, before you arrive 
 at the dry, but coagulated mass of mud beneath it. Whe- 
 ther this mud was thrown up from the mountain, or formed 
 by torrents of rain, I leave to naturalists to decide. To the 
 incrustation of the lava it is probably owing that the objects 
 found at Herculaneum are more carbonized, and of course 
 more impaired, than those at Pompeji and Stabiae ; which 
 latter towns appear to have been only covered by an im- 
 mense shower of ashes, sand, and other light and dry volca- 
 nic substances, little, or not at all, afli'ected by humidity, and 
 free from any lava. Hence the greater facility, and pro- 
 gress in the Pompejan discoveries; for Pompeji is so little 
 under ground, that were the volcanic hills of sand, &c. en- 
 tirely removed, I am of opinion the whole town would 
 nearly be on a level with the surrounding country. 
 
 It is also to be inferred, that the catastrophe could not 
 have happened so suddenly as not to give the greatest part 
 of the inhabitants sufficient warning and time to save their 
 
 lives. 
 
70 
 
 lives, and even their most valuable effects. The number of 
 bodies hitherto found is inconsiderable; and some of those 
 beinn^ in prison, and in fetters, had not the power of escap- 
 inf»\ Of money, too, jewels, and precious metals^ little has 
 yet been met with ; all these were naturally first secured by 
 the fugitives: and some empty chests, furniture^ and uten- 
 sils, found irregularly scattered about, and alluded to in 
 friend Michele's dissertation, prove, if not his wild position^ 
 at any rate the hurry and confusion prevailing at that un- 
 fortunate moment. 
 
 In a future letter, my dear T. you will allow me to re- 
 sume the thread of my. subject. Already out of humour 
 with the mediocrity of the above performance, I fear, if I 
 continue it at present, worse would be added to bad, and 
 perhaps the whole be consigned to the flames : there is a 
 merit, therefore, in leaving off in time. God bless you. 
 
 Your's, &c. 
 
 LETTER VI. 
 
 Naples, May — , 1802. 
 
 My dear Friend, 
 
 THE conclusion of my last epistle will have appeared 
 to you somewhat abrupt : the fact is, I felt tired and unwell. 
 Whether it was owing to the fatigue of my Pompejan trip, 
 to the mal aria I inhaled there, or to the shower which 
 overtook us on our return to town, or to a combination of all 
 these causes, I had no sooner closed my letter than I was 
 assailed by febrile symptoms, which seemed to prognosti- 
 cate some serious disease. Thanks, I verily believe, to the 
 salubrity of the Neapolitan climate, a confinement of two 
 
 days 
 
71 
 
 days removed the threatened danger, and the very first re- 
 sumption of my pen shall be devoted to the continuation of 
 my antiquarian narrative, firmly relying on your indulgence, 
 if from the reason above mentioned, it shall turn out more 
 brief and defective than any former communications. 
 
 Having, in my preceding letter, consigned these unfor- 
 tunate volcanic cities to a decent interment, and added a 
 few words by way of funeral sermon, I forthwith proceed to 
 the more pleasing task of their resuscitation. 
 
 Chance brought them all to light, for the moderns were 
 even ignorant of their exact situation. Of this you may 
 convince yourself by consulting Cluver, Cellarius, or any 
 early geographer of the last century. Their present disco- 
 very, however, was obviously not the first attempt of thai 
 kind, since several subterraneous galleries of careful and 
 laborious construction have been met with, which were pro- 
 bably dug by the ancients themselves at no very remote 
 period from the destruction, with the evident intent to re- 
 cover the most valuable part of the overwhelmed property : 
 and an inscription found at Naples, alluding to statues reco- 
 vered from under-ground, undoubtedly refers to early re- 
 searches of that nature*. 
 
 DISCOVERY OF HERCULANEUM. 
 
 Not far from the royal palace of Portici, and close to the 
 sea-side. Prince Elbeuf inhabited an elegant villa in the be- 
 ginning of the last century. To obtain a supply of water, a 
 well was dug through the deep crust of lava on which tlie 
 mansion itself had been reared. The labourers, after liav- 
 
 This curious circumstance may also' enable us to account for the small quantity 
 of jewels, money, or precious metals hitherto found. 
 
73 
 
 ing pierced the lava to a considerable depth, got clear of 
 it, arrived at the very stratum of dry mud whicli, as I have 
 before stated, had caused the destruction of Herculaneum, 
 and immediately found three female statues. These were, 
 in a manner, the handsel of all future discoveries. The dif- 
 ficulty as to the ownership of the three ladies was readily 
 solved by the Austrian vice-re^al government. Res nullius 
 est res principls ! The Herciilea proles marched to Vienna, 
 and poor Elbeuf had the digging- for his pains. But what 
 is more cruel, particularly to a man of his nation, he re- 
 ceived an order not to diij for any more ladies, a sufficiency 
 of that article being to be met with above-ground. Not 
 that the government felt at all inclined to work the mine 
 themselves, only it was not deemed proper for individual 
 industry to reap that benefit which public sloth had not a 
 mind to search for, Nearybrfj/ years elapsed before Hercu- 
 laneum was thought of again. In the reign of the Spanish 
 prince only, who afterwards ascended the Castilian throne 
 under the name of Charles the Third, and whose memory 
 is still blessed by every Neapolitan, the researches after 
 Herculaneum were seriously and systematically pursued, 
 and rewarded with unlooked-for success. By continuing 
 Elbeuf 's well, the excavators at once came into the theatre 
 of that town, and from that spot carried on their further sub- 
 terraneous investigations. Even now, the theatre derives 
 light from the well above-mentioned. To enumerate the 
 actual discoveries here, would be inconsistent with my plan : 
 they will be noticed in their proper place hereafter. Let us 
 at once proceed to 
 
 THE DISCOVERY OF POMPEJI. 
 
 If I recollect right, 1 have already noticed the different 
 and less fatal manner in which this city was at once blotted 
 from the face of the earth. The light volcanic mould abun- 
 
 dantlj' 
 
73 
 
 «iantly spread over it, soon became capable of cultivation, 
 and the unconscious husbandman reaped from the fertile 
 soil which covered the roofs of the buildings, rich crops of 
 wine and grain. Not a trace of even a ruin was to be seen 
 for many centuries, except a fragment of an old wall, which 
 had constantly been supposed to have been reared on tlie 
 surface on which it was thought to stand, but which, in fact, 
 proved afterw ards the most elevated part of the great theatre 
 of Pompeji. Its superior height over all the other buildings 
 had caused it to project above the volcanic stratum. In this 
 state of things, and subsequent to the discovery of Hercula- 
 neum (about forty years ago), the hoe of a labourer was 
 arrested by a hard substance. On removing the surround- 
 ing earth, he perceived tliat he had nearly decapitated a 
 small statue of, as he thought, massive gold. His eager ef- 
 forts to pull up the fancied treasure were fruitless ; the idol 
 was firmly rivetted into a stone pedestal, and the latter still 
 more strongly cemented into some hard substance under- 
 neath. The peasant, however, had his wits about him. 
 After possessing himself of a small fragment of the doubtful 
 metal, he restored matters in statum quo, and left the field 
 in the evening. The verdict of a silversmith was obtained in 
 course ; and being satisfied of the impossibility of turning the 
 brass, even in his possession, to any great account, the poor 
 clown at once became loyal and honest, and imparted his se- 
 cret to the proper officer of government, who immediately 
 ordered the ground to be excavated on the spot pointed out. 
 Tlie image was soon found again ; and, moreo^-er, it was 
 ascertained, that (like the Apollo on Drnry-lane theatre) it 
 constituted the ornament of tlie roof of a small temple, which 
 being likewise laid open, was the signal for all future Pom- 
 pejan discoveries. The statue proved to be a Minerva, 
 perfect in all parts except the head, which was nearly cleft in 
 two by the sacrilegious hoe. And, sure! v, nobody that knows 
 \^hat her unfortunate papa suflered when he was forced \o 
 
 L call 
 
call in aid thd obstetric axe of Vulcan, and submit to the li- 
 terally ccesarean operation of having his cranium split in order 
 to bring forth that very daughter of his — no one, I say, will 
 pity the retributory wound accidentally inflicted on the self^ 
 same spot of Pallas Athene ! It was a judgment upon her! 
 For, surely, to have hit that very square inch of space which 
 constituted the most elevated part of all the subterraneous 
 remains of Pompeji, was something more than the effect of 
 mere chance. 
 
 THE DISCOVERY OF STABIiE, 
 
 after that of Pompeji, was a matter of less difficuly ; once 
 attentively sought for, its site was soon ascertained, from 
 some ruins that projected above the ground, like those of the 
 Pompejan theatre. The earth was easily cleared away, and 
 the remains of some villas brought to light, which, although 
 in themselves far less interesting than the discoveries above- 
 mentioned, contained some exquisite specimens of ancient 
 painting, of which I shall have to speak more at large 
 hereafter. 
 
 I have now, my dear T. waded through the most tedious 
 part of my Herculaneum dissertation — I have burnt, sunk, 
 and destroyed three towns ; and might, for this act of hero- 
 ism, have been numbered among your great men in history, 
 had I not committed the blunder of restoring them again, 
 which is foreign to the character of true heroic greatness. 
 The remaining portion of my task will be more pleasing to 
 me, and I flatter myself, more entertaining to you : it will 
 consist of a catalogue raisonne of the discoveries themselves, 
 and probably require the space of at least one voluminous 
 letter. I therefore drop the subject for the present the more 
 willingly, as I find myself in a heavy arrear with other co- 
 temporary matters, which 1 must endeavour to bring up as 
 well as I can. 
 
 OQ 
 
On the very summit of the highest mountain about Naples 
 (Vesuvius excepted), and about six miles distant from that 
 city, stands the romantic convent of the Camalduli. I had 
 long wished to visit so inviting a spot ; and chance, the 
 other day, brought me to its gate. Sutlering my horse 
 to proceed ad libitum, he followed a mountainous road, 
 continually ascending, but not particularly steep; now 
 through a luxuriant wood of young chesnuts, then again 
 through a deep hollow way, the sides of which plainly re- 
 corded primieval volcanic revolutions. You could easily 
 count the strata of different substances, disposed in unduhit- 
 ing parallels, and exactly corresponding with those on the 
 other side of the way ; rock, light sand, ashes intermixed 
 with pumice stone and vegetable mould, followed each other 
 in alternate and repeated succession. The reiterated layers 
 of mould seemed to prove that the country had been sterile, 
 and again cultivated more than once ; and as the rock dif- 
 fered from the sand in nothing but its hardness, an estimate 
 might be formed of the vast periods of time necessary for 
 the petrifaction, or rather induration, of the latter. Springs 
 of limpid water, distilled by nature into the utmost purity of 
 that element, trickled down into the road, and gently seek- 
 ing a channel through the ruts of the wheels, enlivened this 
 delightfid picture of rural scenery. Now and then a glimpse 
 of the city and its bay all at once burst through the masses 
 of rock, or the sombre foliage of stately trees. Such was the 
 way, my good friend, which conducted me to a little plain. 
 At the sight of the convent, and of about thirty paupers be- 
 fore the gate, who appeared to have just received the plen- 
 tiful remnants of a plentiful table, I guessed my latitude, 
 and one question to them confirmed my conjecture. Leav- 
 ing my, horse to the care of the porter, I entered a neat 
 church, the insignificant /)re^ws« of which were shewn, and 
 fully explained, by two monks, who, on the sound of Sig- 
 l)or Inglese (the best pas-^^port in Naples), treated me like 
 
 h 2 ui» 
 
76 
 
 an old acquaintance. From the cluircli we proceeded to a 
 g;allery, where my conductors consigned me respectfully to 
 Father Onofrio, the superior, a tall, corpulent man, of about 
 forty -five, with a handsome, thoroughly good-natured coun- 
 tenance. Into better hands I could not have fallen. 
 
 '' Why, my good sir, did you not come an hour sooner? 
 We have just dined, and should have been happy of your 
 company : however, we shall find something for you by the 
 time you have seen our garden, which has been admired by 
 every one of your countrymen who honoured us with a visit." 
 
 It was of no avail to observe, that a late dinner was wait- 
 ing for me in town ; a nod of the head to a lay brother, con- 
 vinced me that Donna Luisa's culinaiy preparation would 
 on this day go a begging. The garden, to which we next 
 shaped our course, certainly was an object of curiosity. 
 Flowers, fruit, and vegetables, of every description, throve 
 in luxuriant abundance on an artificial level, created on the 
 summit of a high mountain; the mould itself was exotic. 
 The just admiration excited at their view, and a desire to 
 say something obliging, elicited a comparison with the pen- 
 sile gardens of Semiramis. '' Indeed not!" replied the 
 holy father; ''we know enough of the beauty of your 
 English gardens to be convinced that what you are pleased 
 to say is but a compliment from your politeness." — Poor 
 Onophrius's ignorance of the Assyrian termagant was cer- 
 tainly carying the vow of chastity to a great length. 
 
 The gardens terminate at an abrupt precipice, from 
 which, under the cooling shade of some gigantic trees, I en- 
 joyed the most enchanting prospect ; which I shall forbear 
 describing, since no delineation of mine, however minute 
 and romantic, woidd enable you to see a whit the more for 
 it. But, with almost tears in bis eyes, the superior pointed 
 
 down 
 
77 
 
 down to Agnano, to shew me an extensive tract of land, 
 formerly the property of the convent, but seized by the pre- 
 sent government ; asking-, if the numerous monastic congre- 
 gations in Malta had suffered such a stretch of arbitrary 
 power, since they had the good fortune to fall under the go- 
 vernment of a Protestant prince, the king of England. My 
 reply was in the negative, of course ; but by way of comfort, 
 I mentioned the general suppression of convents in England 
 at the time of the Reformation. '' Ah ! but I speak of times 
 present, when . . . ." Here we were interrupted by a mes- 
 senger, who announced dinner. The ride and the mountain 
 air had keen'd my appetite ; I did honour to the holy ban- 
 quet, which was so exquisitely prepared as not to occasion 
 regret at the absence of any meat whatever. Indeed the 
 immense arsenal of glittering coppers, kettles, and stew- 
 pans, set out to dry in the area below, had already impressed 
 on my mind the most favourable opinion of the culinary 
 establishment of the Camaidulese fathers ; and the wine 
 I tasted proved their cellar to be under the direction of 
 equally able hands. The repast being concluded, good Ono- 
 phrius conducted me to an adjoining loggia (a sort of bal- 
 cony), from which w'e saw^ below us the castle of St. Elmo, 
 the city, bay, Vesuvius, &c. '' Many officers of your country 
 have spent hours on this spot, when St. Elmo was besieo-ed 
 by them : they came hither purposely to observe the proo-ress 
 of the siege ; we seldom were without some of them honour- 
 ing us w ith their company to dinner. Ah ! dear sir, everv 
 fragment which the skilful shots of your artillerymen tore 
 from the ramparts of the castle, caused our hearts to leap for 
 joy. Indeed, you are a nation of heroes ! Why, in the 
 
 name But come along to my own cell, let us talk 
 
 about some serious matters over a dish of coffee and a iilass 
 of Marasquin*." 
 
 No 
 
 * Tb|e name of {i\i excellent liqueur or cordial imported from Zara. 
 
No scKMKT \\a>. 1 stalcii !>) tlic ilK|ln^itivo father llian a 
 hiigr black loiii-cat, tin* only siucedauouin liis vo>t of celi- 
 Uuy allow ftl liim for a j)artii(.*r tiiroii«j;h lift*, took a familiar 
 hnt)> oi) liis patron's lap. Altera few caresses, which Toro's 
 ^ratiliult." rfliirncii In an appnipriate piirrins^ of inward ron- 
 ft'ntiiM'ut, and a \v\\ "^enllr f<'line attitiid*^ and oblique 2;^lid- 
 inp» a';ain.st th<; sleeves of the monastie lial)it. Onofrio said 
 as follows : " Now, tell nie candidly, sir. »hat 1 am to bc' 
 lievc of this peace of yours, is it real or fei«»;ned.'" 
 
 *' To the best of my knowledo^e. peace, I am sorry to say, 
 has been concluded brtuceu our p^overnnient and that of 
 France. Vou must have seen the treaty in the Naples 
 gazcHtc ?" 
 
 " All! niv ^oo<l sir. I do not van! the Naph'S "azette: 
 I wish to hear from you the secret views which vour nation 
 must have had in this mysterious transaction, of which 1 know 
 vou nuist be well intbrmed. Come, vou are with a true 
 friend of the Enj;lish; say, is it not all a farce of Mr. Pitt's 
 to entrap Honaparte in his own snares?" 
 
 ' My Piti has quitted the ministry ; he ... ." 
 
 ' lie i". nevertheless, at the bottom of all; he is too dvi'p 
 for H(Miaparte. But 1 see you are afraid to speak out. and 
 perhaps may be justified in bein^ cautious foi* the present. 
 Allow me, therefore, one more question only: Why aro 
 Malta and the Cape to be given up by vou t" 
 
 '' Upon my word, i;«>o(l father, )our question exceeds mv 
 power of rc|)ly. An absence from Eni^land of two \ears 
 has made me an absolute novico in the political all'aii-s of 
 my country. As to the peace. howev(M', as far as I < au 
 judi^e by the English papers, and by some letters from mv 
 friends, it is, on our side at Ica^t, perfcctlv sincere ' 
 
 Here 
 
Here the superior shook his head significantly : the allu- 
 sion^ however, to my private information seemed to have its 
 due weight on his political faith. " If/' continued he, 
 " this peace of yonr's is really sincere, then the only way to 
 account for it, is a resolution on the part of both govern- 
 ments to join in a great armament against the infidels; a 
 measure devoutly wished for by every good christian. Your 
 navy and the French armies will soon drive those Maho- 
 medan rascals from Morocco, Algiers, Tunis, Tripoli, Con- 
 stantinople, and Jerusalem." 
 
 '' But where are they to go to?' 
 
 '' Al Diavolo, se volete; but that's no business of oure, 
 let them find it out themselves." 
 
 The zealous Onofrio enlarged considerably on the plan 
 of this novel crusade ; but I fear a further expose of his ha- 
 giostrategetic speculations would be as tedious to you, as 
 the obligation of listening to them was tiresome to me. 
 Yet, the friendly and hospitable manner with which he 
 treated me, would not allow me to throw cold water over 
 his pious wishes. I returned him my sincere thanks for his 
 kind reception, and under a solemn vow (already discharged) 
 to return soon with the English newspapers and my priA ate 
 letters in my pocket, I mounted my horse, whose rotundity 
 and spirits proved that he had, like his master, amply expe.- 
 rienced the effects of monastic hospitality. My earnest en- 
 deavours to reward the servants tor their trouble were re- 
 spectfully resisted. 
 
 Here then, my dear T. is another specimen of the cnonm- 
 ties oH\m pickpocket nation, as they have been styled by some 
 of our travelling magpies, who .... but no, let me not close 
 
 ^ my 
 
80 
 
 my letter with swearing, however just the cause may he. The 
 Neapolitans, from all the experience a six weeks residence a- 
 mong them has aft'ordcd me, are an excellent race of people ; 
 they would be better stilly were 
 
 Your's. &c. 
 
 LETTER VII. 
 
 Naples, May — , 1802. 
 
 A Thunder storm, dear T. has deprived me of my even- 
 ing's ride ; how then could I fill up the vacant hour better than 
 by continuing, for your perusal, the chronicle of my Neapoli- 
 tan adventures ? and yet how is it possible to write any thing 
 coherent, surrounded and annoyed as I am by myriads of dis- 
 gusting beings, performing all tlie evolutions of tactics on the 
 floor, the walls, and across the ceiling right over my head ? I 
 really believe the beetles of all your bakers' shops within the 
 bills of mortality would scarcely be sufficient to form the ad- 
 vanced guard of their Neapolitan brethren under this single 
 roof, not to mention the difference of species in favom* of the 
 former. A British beetle is a stout, compact, hard, black, and 
 comely insect ; whereas these Parthcnopian animals are dou- 
 ble the size, soft in substance, of a deadly white and brown, 
 bursting at the touch ; in short, ^nonstrum horrcndum et in- 
 gens cui lumen aihmpliun. Their principal haunt is in the 
 painted paper which hides the timber of the ceiling, whence 
 they sally in all directions as soon as night sets in ; some gro- 
 ping by circuitous routes, others, by a bold effort, at once 
 precipitating themselves on my table, nay, on my camp-bed 
 (without curtains) while I am asleep, or rather attempting to 
 
 sleep. 
 
§1 
 
 sleep. Of this nuisance I complained bitterly to Don Micliele 
 the other day. His answer was as follows : "' The antipathy^ 
 my dear Signor Don Luigi^, which you entertain against these 
 innocent animals^ makes me suspect that they are unknown in 
 your country, although, strictly reasoning, such a conclusion 
 does not absolutely follow. But be that as it may, I can as- 
 sure you, not only that they are perfectly harmless, but that 
 in this country we behold them with satisfaction ; in as much 
 as they afford convincing proof of the health of the house they 
 visit. They are never to be met with in any habitation w here 
 there is a consumptive person, a contagious fever, or a dead 
 body. You may, therefore, make yourself perfectly easy on 
 their account. However, if you seriously wish to be rid of 
 them, nothing is easier ; for a ducat the priest will exorcise 
 them for you, and you won't see one of them the day after." 
 
 '^ Are you serious, Don Michele ?" 
 
 '' Serious, ah ! I have seen it done, and you may see it 
 yourself, if you chuse ; although 1 doubt whether, if you saw 
 it, t/oil would believe it." 
 
 Is it possible, I hear you exclaim, that Reason, that sublime 
 gift of our omnipotent Creator, which enabled man to dive 
 into the innermost secrets of nature, to discover the laws and 
 mechanism of the heavens, which was conferred on him for 
 no other end than to secure him from error — is it possible that 
 so heavenly a blessing should be so wantonly perverted, and 
 trodden under foot, by rank superstition? The truth of this, 
 my dear T. is as evident, from the experience of all ages and 
 countries, as it is humiliating and lamentable ; but to lay the 
 fault at the door of the Roman Catholic religion, however con- 
 formable to the fashionable practice, would betray weakness. 
 The pen of our greatest philosopher has drivelled in childish 
 speculations; the Shaman of Tartary, the Chinese Bonze, and 
 
 M Indian 
 
82 
 
 Indian Brahmin^ are equally zealous in the cause of supersti- 
 tion. 
 
 For the trifling consideration of three and sixpence, I might 
 have enjoyed the exhibition of the Scarabaean farce in my 
 chambers ; but to make a source of merriment of any trans- 
 action where religion is, however preposterously, intermixed, 
 is too much of a joke at any time ; I therefore declined Don 
 INIichele's proposal, under the pretext, that I could not think 
 of ridding myself of an evil, by entailing it probably on my 
 next-door neighbour : and thus dropped this very edifying 
 conversation. 
 
 Majora canamus ! 
 
 Some time ago, I espied, while shaving at the window, 
 an ass, loaded with two large demi-jeans *, stopping at my 
 door. The driver delivered me a letter from Don Giacomo, 
 at Pozzuoli ; in which, after many extravagant protestations 
 of respect and attachment, he stated, that having observed 
 the great^ liking I took to the wine of Pozzuoli when I 
 honoured him with the last visit, he herewith sent me a small 
 quantity of the best that could be procured, and begged my 
 acceptance of it; that he was sure, if for every spoonful of mix- 
 ture 1 would take a glass of this wine, I should soon be in no 
 want of physicians and apothecaries. — He likewise begged I 
 w ould recollect, that some of the Pozzuolian antiquities were 
 yet to be visited by me, and expressed a hope on his part, as 
 well as that of his sister. Donna Giuliana, that such an attrac- 
 tion would soon afford them the pleasure of seeing me among 
 them. 
 
 Believe me, dear T. it was not easy to find expressions for 
 the sensations excited by this unexpected act of kindness from 
 
 an 
 
 * Glass bottles, holding from six to twelve gallons, in which the Italians keep their 
 wine. A little oil is poured on tlje top of the wine, and a cotton stopper added, to pre- 
 serve it for any length of time. 
 
83 
 
 an utter stranger. Yet, the short answei* which I sent back 
 at the moment my heart was overflowing, proved perhaps 
 more to the purpose, and, at all events, more sincere than a 
 studied epistle, written with more leisure. I promised, more- 
 over, to thank this good man personally in a few days. 
 
 The custom of obliging your friends by trifling presents, 
 which is general in Turkey and the East, and which, even in 
 this part of the world, is more frequently observed than in our 
 northern hemisphere, where our actions are too much guided 
 by cold calculation, is certainly very commendable. A gift, 
 if of ever so little value, serves to commence or cement friend- 
 ships : even a flower, or an orange, presented with a good 
 grace, and a friendly intent, is more expressive of the donor's 
 esteem and good-will, than all the protestations in the worlds 
 conveyed by mere words. 
 
 The sight of the lovely Juliana's name, I will be sincere to 
 own, added not a little to the elevation of my spirits. A second 
 jaunt to Pozziioli, upon a more enlarged scale than the for- 
 mer, was immediately planned in all its details ; and not to 
 arrive on my part, with empty hands, my telescope, with my 
 only two good razors, were destined for Don Giacomo, and a 
 gown of sprigged muslin, of British manufacture^ was forth- 
 widi purchased in the city for my heroine. 
 
 Thus equipped, I set out, in a single horse-chaise, at an 
 early hour. A copious dew sparkled on every leaf in the fer- 
 tile pianura, the fresh morning air was perfumed with a com- 
 pound of fragrant odours, and the nightingales seemed to vie 
 in skill with the minor ditties of the male and female peasantry 
 I met flocking towards the town. Before I was aware of it, I 
 passed through the stately gate of Pozzuoli, halted at the 
 house of my friend, with a few strides hurried up the massy 
 
 staircase, 
 M 2 
 
84 
 
 staircase, and, on entering the room, surprised the lovely 
 Giuliana — in a confidential tete-a-tete with father Anselmo ! ! ! 
 
 Fancy to yourself our worthy Solomon standing before a 
 Hanover-square audience, just ready to begin one of his finest 
 concertos ; the significant rap has already sounded against the 
 tin candle-screen, the silent bow is moved across the strings 
 up to its hilt, in order to give energy to the first stroke ; all is 
 ear, you might hear a fly sneeze ; and, at this moment of ex- 
 pectation, the tail-piece of the virtuoso's violin gives way, and 
 all the fifths fly with a tremendous crash into their former 
 chaos ! 
 
 Thus was the fair-tempered harmony of my soul, at one in- 
 stant, unstrung into discords ; my checked breath had scarce- 
 ly power sufficient to utter, with a bitter smile, " I beg pardon 
 for this very unseasonable intrusion," when I felt the priest's 
 dead weight clinging round my neck, and embalming my 
 cheeks and lips with a set of osculations which were absolute- 
 ly in an inverse ratio with the fragrant exhalations I had just 
 inhaled in the delightful piatiur a. I was all statue, so he had 
 ample scope for his fulsome congratulations on my arrival. 
 
 When these emotions of the first moment had given way 
 to sober reflection, I began to feel that I had made a fool 
 of myself; and I tried, by an assumed look of cheerfulness, 
 to correct the flaw in my past conduct. But now the tables 
 were turned upon me. Donna Giuliana, who before had 
 hailed my arrival, appeared obviously struck and offended 
 at my rudeness. She said little or nothing ; and father 
 Anselm, whether in consequence of a side wink, or from an 
 impulse of policy or good -nature, prepared for his depar- 
 ture, observing, that he had to attend a sick person, after 
 which he would again wait upon me. (Exit Anselmo ; three 
 quarters of a minute's uncomfortable silence.) 
 
 '' You 
 
85 
 
 '' You seemed agitated when you first came in, Signor 
 D. Luigij had you met with any accident on the road V* 
 
 Knowing, from experience, that in perplexed situations like 
 mine, and above all, when placed before a judge of such 
 acute penetration, it is nine times out of ten preferable to 
 confess the truth, than to disguise it by inventioDS, which^ 
 under such a state of mind, generally turn out extremely 
 silly, and only serve to entangle and expose you the more. 
 I candidly confessed that my surprize and disappointment 
 had proceeded from seeing her closeted with the holy father ; 
 and if I am not mistaken, the fair Juliet, like the rest of her 
 sex, appeared not displeased at the idea of having excited 
 jealousy. 
 
 - Perhaps you do not know that father Anselmo is our 
 confessor," 
 
 " I know that so fair a form cannot be inhabited by a soul 
 that is capable of willing any thing that requires a confessor." 
 
 ^' If I were the great beauty you w^ould have me vain 
 enough to believe, I should the more stand in need of spi- 
 ritual guidance, to secure me against worldly temptation. 
 But tell me, are the ladies of your country not permitted to 
 converse with the guardians of their cor^science?" 
 
 " Their religion denies them that comfort; they never 
 confess at all." 
 
 '' How do they get rid of their sins then?" 
 
 '' God in heaven knows ! They commit as few as they 
 can help; and as to those they cannot avoid, why they bear 
 them with that fortitude and courage which you admired 
 the other day in the warriors of our nation." 
 
 '' Gem 
 
86 
 " Gesii Maria ! che eresia !" 
 
 This turn our conversation had taken operated as a most 
 seasonable relief to my embarrassment ; and Donna Giu- 
 liana, who seemed to be satisfied Avith the mild chastisement 
 she had justly inflicted on me, gave full scope to the briiliant 
 sallies of a most lively wit. It was some time before I mis- 
 sed her brother; and^ to my shame be it said, I was not 
 displeased to learn that he happened to be on a little excur- 
 sion, to collect some rents, which would prevent his coming 
 home to dinner, and I most readily accepted the invitation 
 to supply her brother's place at table. The next tiling- to 
 be done was to deliver my present, and however awkwardly 
 I executed this task, the gown was graciously and gracefully 
 received : her wish, at least, that it might last as long as I 
 should be remembered by her, was not a little flattering to 
 your humble servant ; it encouraged me to express a hope 
 that she would not be averse to accompany me to town in 
 the afternoon, to see the opera, pass the night in Don Mi- 
 chele's family, and the next morning return under my pro- 
 tection to Pozzuoli. To this request, however^, the lovely 
 Julia only assented conditionally ; that is, if her brother re- 
 turned in time, without whose consent she did not wish to 
 go, nor indeed could leave the house. 
 
 Father Anselm now made his appearance, and without 
 mercy hurried me away to see the place of the decapitation 
 of St. Januarius ; a pilgrimage to which, as in a former let- 
 ler I have informed you, I had pledged my word. That 
 spot, however, I succeeded to prevail on him to visit last, 
 as the most valuable of the curiosities I was to behold ; and 
 so we set out to see the town and its antiquities first. 
 
 Pozzuoli is a corruption of Puteoli, the ancient name of 
 this town, which it acquired either from the variety of mine- 
 ral 
 
87 
 
 ral springs in or about it, or from a number of small wells, 
 which were sunk by Quiiitus Fabius, who, in the second 
 Punic war, had been sent with a strong- coq3s to Puteoli, 
 lest Hannibal in his march to the south of Italy, might sur- 
 prise the town. Fabius, fearing to have the water cut off 
 from the place, is said to have had those wells dug by his 
 soldiers. The extent and importance of Pozzuoli are at- 
 tested by almost every historian of antiquity : it carried on 
 a direct trade with Spain, Africa, and the Levant; it had its 
 own senate, two large theatres, a number of magnificent 
 temples, several superb aqueducts, and was surrounded by 
 innumerable villas belonging to Roman senators, in one of 
 which Sylla died of the pedicularian disease. Its present 
 site, like that of Alexandria, occupies but an insignificant 
 part of the ground on which Puteoli stood ; and the the- 
 atres, together with several temples, are now at a consider- 
 able distance from the town. By a rare and valuable relic 
 of antiquity, we are enabled to judge not only of the former 
 size of Puteoli, but even to form a correct idea of its figure 
 and appearance. Among the ancient Herculanean paint- 
 ings in the Royal Museum at Portici, one represents obvi- 
 ously the town of Puteoli. Although in point of design and 
 execution this picture is below mediocrity, the perspective 
 wretched, the houses heaped above each other, much in the 
 manner of Chinese drawings ; yet, as it affords the means 
 of comparing the present condition of the town with what it 
 was two thousand years ago, it becomes highly interesting 
 in an antiquarian point of view. A similar representation 
 of Rome and Athens would be inestimable to the classic 
 scholar. 
 
 The reduced state of the modern Pozzuoli is to be attri- 
 buted to the frequent earthquakes which it has suffered, as 
 well as to the ravages it sustained from the Carthaginians, 
 Goths, Lombards, and Saracens. The latter, after they 
 
 ceased 
 
86 
 
 (leased to be masters of the country^ were pretty riiimerou? 
 in this town, and were permitted to exercise divine worship 
 according to their religious tenets, until they were finally 
 expelled by Charles of Anjou. Several Saracen epitaphs in 
 Arabic characters have been found in Pozzuoli, and trans- 
 lated by Montfaucon ; a specimen of one of which I con- 
 ceive may be a curiosity to you. It is, in English, nearly 
 as follows : — In the name of all-merciful God. Mai/ the 
 Lord be gracious unto Mohammed, his prophet, and unto 
 his race ; may he bless them ! Death overtaketh all men, 
 hut on the day of resurrection only they shall meet their re- 
 luard; for God hath prepared their egress out of the fie, 
 that they might enter Paradise. Yet man ti'embles ! as if 
 to go out of this world were ought hut to eriter the possession 
 of everlasting happiness. This is the tomb of Bat:ainab, the 
 son of Abdulmaled, who departed this life on the 2lst day of 
 the month Shaban, in the year 576*, having confessed, that 
 there is no God, but God the Almighty. 
 
 But to return to our antiquarian ramble. The first object 
 which my spiritual cicerone thought proper to conduct me to, 
 was the temple of Jupiter, now the cathedral church of Poz- 
 zuoli, situated in the centre, and on the most [elevated part 
 of the town. The whole of this superb edifice, walls as well 
 as columns, is of the most beautiful white marble ; and such 
 is the solidity of its structure, that the same marble blocks 
 form the walls of the inside as well as outside ; but the latter 
 is as much concealed by the siUTOunding buildings, as the 
 noble simplicity of the former is disfigured by various orna- 
 mentsof a modern date. Thearchitectof this sublime edifice 
 was Coccejus, and its founder Calphurnius, who caused it to 
 be built in honour of the emperor Augustus, as maybe seen 
 from tlie following inscription on the frontispiece : 
 
 CALPIIURMUS. L. F. 
 TEMPLUM. AUGUSTO. CUM. CRN AMENTIS. D. D. 
 
 The 
 
 <i ■ ■■ »fci.- — . — - — ,, . ... — — ■ .-■- -- — 
 
 * Ofth<» ir<*^ira, answering (o the 28th December, 1181 after Christ* 
 
The high state of preservation of this temple, is, like that 
 of many others in Italy, to be solely attributed to the fortu- 
 nate circumstance of its having been converted into a church 
 in the very infancy of Christianity. The ecclesiastical annals 
 of Pozzuoli record an uninterruptetl series of bishops from 
 Patrobas, a cotemporary of St. Paul (who mentions him in 
 the sixteenth chapter of his epistle to the Romans), to the 
 present day. That apostle likewise bears testimony of the 
 faith and hospitality of this town in the 28th chapter of Acta, 
 v. 13, where he says, " And from thence (Syracuse) we 
 fetched a compass, and came to Rhegium ; and after one day 
 the south wind blew, and we came next day to PuteoUy 
 where ice found brethren, andioere desired to tarry with them 
 seven days, and so went towards Rome." 
 
 From hence we proceeded to view the antiquities which 
 no longer lie within the walls of Pozzuoli, but are situated 
 on the hill behind the town. On crossing- the square, I ob- 
 served a marble pedestal, enriched with a variety of figures 
 in alto-relievo ; but so much defaced, as not to admit of even 
 a guess at its former destination, except that, from its shape 
 and size, it appeared to have once supported an equestrian 
 statue. We again passed by the majestic columns of the 
 temple of Serapis, described in a former letter ; and, in our 
 progress up the hill, through several well cultivated farms, 
 abounding with ruins of minor interest, arrived at the tem- 
 ple of Diana. Of this structure, the shell only, w hich is of 
 brick-work, remains at present. The figure is an oblong, 
 rounded off at one extremity. Some of the arches in the 
 walls are still perfect, and of a bold construction : but the 
 interior space of the temple is now cultivated. Another set 
 of ruins near to these, was shewn, under the name of the tem- 
 ple of Neptune ; a description of which, my dear T. would 
 probably prove as uninteresting to you as the sight of it ap- 
 peared to me. 
 
 jj The 
 
90 
 
 The Coliseum, or g-reat thratre of Pozzuoli, stands at an 
 inconsiderable distance tVoni the temple of Diana, in the 
 midst of a farm ; formerly it was situated in the center of the 
 town. Its exterior walls arc of reticulated masonry, and ap- 
 pear to be greatly sunk in the ground ; and the arena, 
 which I should judge to be about eighty paces in length, and 
 somewhat less in breadth, is, like the temple of Diana, con- 
 verted into a field. The interior is in too ruinous a state to 
 exhibit the usual gradation of seats. — " Here it was," ex- 
 claimed father Anselm, " that our holy protector, St. Janu- 
 arius, together with Proculus, Festus, Desiderius, and many 
 other godly tnartyrs, were exposed to the fury of savage 
 beasts, by the persecuting mandate of the heathen emperor 
 Diocletian, himself more ferocious than the lions and tigers 
 he employed for that diabolical purpose. But instead of de- 
 vouring the saint and his companions, those very beasts 
 prostrated themselves at his feet, and with their tongues 
 fawningly licked the hands of the holy bisliop ; while Timo- 
 theus, the pra^fect and ministerof the emperor's cruelty, was 
 punished with the loss of his sight, which he only recovered 
 through the efficacy of St. Januarius's prayers : and not- 
 withstanding this christian act of generosity, still the heads 
 of the holy martyr and his friends at last fell by a pagan axe. 
 Here," pointing to one of the arches of the amphitheatre, 
 " he was confined previous to the execution of the infamous 
 sentence ! But the decrees of Heaven were not to be thwart- 
 ed by the vain efforts of heathen executioners. The super- 
 stition of paganism has vanished from the fiice of Europe, 
 and the mild tenets of our Redeemer have, without any 
 other aid than that of their divine truth, spread themselves 
 over every part of the globe." 
 
 The enthusiastic fervency with which the venerable father 
 uttered these words, left no doubt, that he would be as ready 
 to shed his blood in the cause of his faith as his saint, and 
 
 greatly 
 
91 
 
 greatly raised him in my estimation. 1 felt no lonj^er the 
 same reluctance to visit the spot of the saint's martyrdom, 
 and cheerfully followed my conductor on the road towards 
 the Solfatara, 
 
 We had scarcely entered a small, but neat church, when 
 Anselmo led me into a chapel, and pointing to a piece of 
 sculpture, in white marble, "Here," said he, "you behold 
 the most valuable treasure of antiquity, both in point of art, 
 and on account of its exhibiting the true likeness of St. Ja- 
 nuarius. It is the work of a pagan sculptor, who was a co- 
 temporary of the saint, and who, through the holiness of the 
 work he imdertook, became a convert to Christianity. The 
 mark, sir, which you perceive around the nose, is a lasting 
 proof of the miraculous preservation of this image. For you 
 must know, that at the time when the Saracens ravaged these 
 regions, and polluted and destroyed every thing which re- 
 lated to our holy worship, so precious a relic was not spared 
 by their sacrilegious hands. And although, after their e^^ 
 pulsion, the image was carefully sought for, and discovered 
 at last, yet the nose was found to be wanting. All attempts 
 of the best artists to supply that defect, proved vain ; no ce- 
 ment, however strong, was capable of uniting the two het- 
 erogeneous marbles. After a variety of useless efforts, the 
 face remained without a nose for many years. Some fisher- 
 men, however, in dragging their nets from the sea, had rcr 
 peatedly observed a piece of marble, among the dirt which 
 the net usually brings up, and, not aware of its value, had as 
 often thrown it back into the water, but the constant re-ap- 
 pearance of the same piece of stone, at every haul of their 
 net, at last attracted their attention : they shewed it to a 
 monk of the Capuchin order, who recollecting the deface^ 
 state of this image, thought of trying whether the newly-found 
 fragment might not fit it ; and no sooner had he applied the 
 nose to the face of the saint than it adhered of its own accord, 
 
 N 2 
 
92 
 
 and without any cement whatever, so firmly, that it has ever 
 since remained where you see it, and no force will ever be 
 able again to sever it. And here/' pointing to a place be- 
 hind the ear, '"you observe the mark left by a boil, that 
 shewed itself, as a presage of the great plague which desola- 
 ted the kingdom and city of Naples, in the year 1686." 
 
 At the other side of the altar was the celebrated stone on 
 which some of the drops of the blood of St. Januarius had 
 fallen, when he was beheaded ; and although day-light in 
 this chapel was as sparingly administered as in any of our 
 linen-drapers' shops in Cranbourn-alley, yet I should be 
 wanting in truth were I not to confess, that some brown spots 
 were certainly visible on the surface of the stone. How far 
 the assertion is correct, that on the day, or rather at the mo- 
 ment, of the liquefaction of the saint's blood at Naples, these 
 spots turn to a bright red, I will not pretend to decide ; nor 
 shall I be able to ascertain the fact, since I intend to witness 
 the superior miracle of the two, at the approaching celebra- 
 tion of the solemnity in Naples. 
 
 Father Anselm perceiving, with evident marks of inward 
 satisfaction, the attention with which 1 viewed the wonders 
 he had exhibited to me, asked in a tone of innocent triumph, 
 
 '' Dite mi, caro Signor mio, cosa pensate di tutto questo ?" 
 
 " Non mi maravlglio piu delta divozione delpopolo Napo- 
 ietano, con tanti miracoli e monumenti sacri attorno di loro." 
 
 *' Ah, Signor Don Luigi, ahbiamo, per disgrazia nostra, 
 pecore rognose assai nella mandra nostra." 
 
 " Non e colpa de' pasiori certamente*." On 
 
 * " Well, my dear sir, what do you think of all this ?" 
 
 « I am no longer surprised at the devotion of the Neapolitan people, surrounded ae 
 they are by so many miracles and holy monuments." 
 ♦« Alas, dear sir, we have plenty of scabby sheep in our flock." 
 «' Surely this is not the fault of the shepherds." 
 
 1 
 
93 
 
 On leaving this churchy I followed the example of my con- 
 ductor, by dipping my finger into the holy water^ and ma- 
 king the sign of the cross. Perhaps, my dear T. you may 
 think this was carrying courtesy too far, and suspect me of 
 apostacy. For my part, I can see no harm in paying to the 
 religion of the country we reside in, every attention compa- 
 tible with the dictates of our own persuasion and conscience. 
 Father Anselm, I can assure you, was highly pleased at my 
 conforming to this part of the rites of his church, and insen- 
 sibly led the conversation to the excellency of the Roman 
 Catholic religion, till by degrees he laid actual siege to my 
 conscience, opening all the approaches of his eloquence, to 
 make a convert of me. My means of defence, however, pro- 
 ved superior to his attack. One battery, in particular, which 
 I opened upon him, presently silenced his holy fire, I told 
 the good man, that I was ready to enter the lists with him, 
 provided he would allow my arguments to be founded upon 
 the New Testament itself, in the purity of its original (the 
 Greek) language, and not upon any translation. He honest- 
 ly replied, that he was not master of that language, nor saw 
 the necessity of learning it, while there existed such an ex- 
 cellent translation as that of the Vulgate, which was on all 
 sides admitted to be so perfect, as to be at least equal to the 
 original. 
 
 Like a beaten enemy, however, who, in retracing his steps, 
 does not all at once cease his discharge of small arms, but 
 slackens his fire by degrees, so did Father Anselmo, although 
 discomfited in his attempt on my faith, make good his retreat, 
 by recounting several most extraordinary miracles, either to 
 stagger my obstinacy, or at least to impress a certain degree 
 of respect on his conqueror. One of those I shall make free 
 to entertain you with in his own words : — 
 
 '' Have you yet visited the church of at Naples ?" 
 
 (I paid 
 
94 
 
 (I paid so little attention to the holy father's question, which 
 I answered in the negative, that I have already forgotten 
 the name of this church.) 
 
 '' You must know then, Signor Don Luigi, that this 
 church boasts of three of the most precious and wonderful re- 
 lics (next to the holy vial containing the blood of our pro- 
 tector), that are to be met with in Naples. The bodies of 
 three saints are there to be seen, in such preservation, that 
 the lineaments of their faces may be distinguished as cor- 
 rectly as if they had died yesterday, although it is many ages 
 since their souls were received into paradise. Indeed, such 
 is the holiness of their corporeal abode, that those bodies are 
 in every respect perfect, only completely dried up, and of 
 course somewhat reduced in bulk," 
 
 ^' This is no such , . . ." 
 
 " Allow me to proceed, good sir! These bodies had long 
 remained in a state of nature, and were but slightly attended 
 to, till some pious Neapolitan left, by legacy, a yearly new 
 suit of clothes to each of them. Now, sir, stupendous to re- 
 late, but no less true, whenever, on the anniversary of the 
 re-clothing ceremony, the new garments are put on to them, 
 these inanimate masses of skin and bone forthwith raise their 
 arms, and of their own accord slip into the sleeves, as you 
 or I would do every morning ! ! !" (Pause.) '' Cosa vi 
 pare di questo, eh ?*" 
 
 " Truly, holy father, I believe it as readily as the miracle 
 of the nose." 
 
 Indeed, my good T. except the spontaneous lifting of 
 
 the 
 
 * ♦• What d* ye t'nink of that, sir ?" 
 
95 
 
 the ai'ms, Anselm's story is likely to be true enough ; and 
 this is not the only instance of a natural mummefaction that 
 has come to my knowledge. A friend of mine, who has 
 lately made the tour of Sicily, visited a convent (near Pa- 
 lermo, I believe), where notie of its members are buried after 
 death, but are preserved in a similar manner. In a long 
 gallery a great number of niches are sunk, and in those the 
 dried bodies of the friars stand erect, with the same habit 
 they wore during life ; and a short inscription records the 
 name, birth, and decease of every one ; some of the niches 
 are empty, being destined for the monks still living, or to 
 come hereafter. The same friend informed me, that at first 
 sight their grinning faces appeared to him extremely fright- 
 ful, but after becoming a little more reconciled to an aspect 
 so unusual, the idea of death lost much of that terror, with 
 which he had been in the habit of looking upon it. 
 
 I have myself had an opportunity of w itnessing and ex- 
 amining a similar curiosity, in my journey through Ger- 
 many, about two years ago. Under the cathedral at Bre- 
 men, there is a vault called the Bley Keller (Lead Cellar), 
 which possesses the singular property of preserving from 
 corruption any animal body deposited in it. The sex- 
 ton shewed me several corpses in shells, which were dried 
 up to a mummy, and so light that with my little finger I was 
 able to lift them by the hair of their head, not weighing 
 altogether perhaps ten pounds. The hair and nails had 
 grown after death. Among others there was the corpse of 
 a woman, said to have been an English countess. Her lady- 
 ship, from a dread of being buried alive, had desired to be 
 placed in that vault, probably not considering that she would 
 be handled by every curious traveller. She must have 
 been excessively corpulent, for the inflated skin of her body 
 had sunk into a labyrinth of innumerable wrinkles. The 
 latest specimen was a bricklayer's labourer, who, while 
 
 roofing 
 
96 
 
 roofuif^ the church, had fallen down and been killed on the 
 spot. But, although his death happened upwards of 130 
 years later than tliat of the countess, his state of preserva- 
 tion was in no respect more perfect than her's. Some fowls, 
 and two or three cats, Avhich had been thrown down-by mis- 
 chievous boys, were equally uncorrupted. On my enquiry 
 respecting the process and cause of this singular phenome- 
 non, I learned from the sexton, that no other process was 
 required than placing the subject in a perforated shell ; that 
 after the first fortnight a fermentation ensued, which gradu- 
 ally produced a discharge of the internal juices; that the 
 more solid parts dissolved by degrees likewise, and that 
 when all the moisture had thus left the body, which gene- 
 rally required the space of from four to six months, it was 
 shifted to a diy cell, and there left to itself. Whether the 
 same process would prove equally successful in any other 
 place, I am incompetent to decide ; so much is certain, 
 that the Bremen vault is remarkably dry, and even dusty, 
 as I found by my boots ; although the city stands in a low, 
 marshy country, generally overflowed on all sides during 
 the winter months. 
 
 From the great number of Egyptian mummies, I greatly 
 suspect that that people had a method equally simple, for 
 curino: the bodies of at least the common class of their de- 
 ceased ; for even the least expensive method of embalming 
 recorded by Herodotus, must, with any great number of 
 corpses, have been tedious and troublesome. 
 
 In some work of travels, I remember to have read, that, 
 in the northern parts of Siberia, the dead bodies, when once 
 buried under ground, never corrupt at all, the soil there 
 being frozen summer and winter ; and the power of the 
 sun, even in the former season, being so weak as not to 
 penetrate above a few inches below the surface. 
 
 All 
 
-97 
 
 Ail this by the way. Ansehiio was now gohig to take me 
 to another neighbouring- convent, to see some other pious 
 curiosity — God knows what; but I had enough of spiritual 
 shows for the present. The rays of the sun, besides, had 
 nearly become perpendicular, and scorched me at least, al- 
 though no saint, almost to a mummy. I therefore civilly 
 declined his offer, and proposed an immediate return to Poz- 
 zuoli, whither we forthwith shaped our course by a new and 
 more direct road. On oin- way home, we passed a stupen- 
 dous ruin of a great aqueduct, with a triple tier of arches, en- 
 tirely of bricks; some of which, and especially those which 
 lined the arches, appeared of an unusual magnitude, not 
 less than eighteen inches square, and beautifully manufac- 
 tured and baked. This must have been the principal aque- 
 duct of ancient Puteoli. 
 
 On our return to Pozzuoli, we found our friend, Don 
 Giacomo, who had but just returned from his excursion of 
 business. I lost no time in thanking him for his present of 
 wine; and^ some time afterwards, produced my telescope, 
 which he admired exceedingly, but would on no account ac- 
 cept of so valuable an article, until I was absolutely obliged 
 to threaten him with my instant departure in case of non- 
 compliance. 
 
 The manners of the Neapolitans in this respect are rather 
 singular. If any thing in your possession, such as a watch, 
 snutF-box, ring, &c. happens to be admired by another, 
 good breeding requires that you should immediately tender 
 it to him — nay, insist, in as strong terms as the Neapolitan 
 idiom affords (which is saying a great deal), on his accepting 
 of the same. Good breeding, on the other hand, equally 
 demands, that the other party should as strongly decline the 
 present, under a variation of courteous excuses ; till, after 
 a considerable waste of time and words, the thing remains 
 
 o as 
 
9S 
 
 as it was at the first outset of this contest, or, rather, fi — g of 
 civility. Both parties must necessarily be up to the thing-, 
 and on a par in g-ood manners ; which w as not the case some 
 time ago in a party at Naples. A lieutenant of a Neapo- 
 litan regiment of cavalry, brought in a most beautitul white 
 spaniel, which performed a variety of tricks before the com- 
 pany. A captain of an English frigate lyin^ in the bay, enthu- 
 siastically pmised the beauty and sagacity of the animal. In 
 an instant, the lieutenant beg-ged he would accept of the dog. 
 '' I would not think of depriving you of so valuable an animal, 
 which appears so faithfully attached to its master, but thank 
 you all the same." " Nay, Signor Capitano, you will confer 
 a favour on me by \ aking him on board . I long wanted" to part 
 with him, and I am satisfied he cannot be in better hands. 
 Fate mi questo placer e *." The son of Neptune, whose ho- 
 nesty had no conception of the insincerity of the offer, with- 
 out further hesitation accepted the present ; consigned the 
 spaniel to one of his sailors that had accompanied him on 
 shore ; who, without ceremony, tied him to his brown silk 
 handkerchief, and conveyed him on board the frigate as a 
 legal prize. The lieutenant made a very long face to the latter 
 part of this transaction ; but his civility, which had caused 
 the disappointment, nevertheless induced him to put up with 
 his loss as cheerfully as possible. He afterwards made an 
 attempt at reprisals, by admiring the captain's time-keeper ; 
 in the praise of which the latter, however, so fully coincided, 
 that he declared he would rather lose his best bower anchor 
 in a gale than his watch, which was indispensible to him in 
 keeping a correct account of the ship's course. This rebuff, 
 however, did not deter the courage of the Neapolitan. The 
 next time he met the captain (which was in a coffee-house 
 on the Largo del Castello-f), he took him on one side, and 
 told him of the irregularity in issuing the pay to the officers 
 
 of 
 
 » Do, sir, oblige me. t The castle square. 
 
99 
 
 of the Neapolitan army ; that four months pay were now 
 due to him — an inconvenience he just at that moment felt 
 the more, as he was prevented from sending- to his aged mo- 
 ther, at Lecce, the periodical alloAvance of twelve ounces*, 
 which he had hitherto been in the habit of remitting to her, 
 and which constituted the principal means of her support. 
 That, indeed, he might command so trifling a sum from se- 
 veral of his Neapolitan friends ; but not wishing- to bring 
 ^hem acquainted with his temporary embarrassments, he 
 thought he might presume so nuich on the fiicndship of the 
 captain, as to apply to him for the loan of so small a sum ; 
 for which he was ready to give his note at two months, 
 or an assignation on the paymaster of the regiment. The 
 honest captain found little dithculty in understanding the 
 purport of this point-blank aim ; and not only gave instantly 
 the sum demanded, bat, with truly British liberality, added 
 another twelve ounces as a present from himself to the old 
 lady, who probably never received a sixpence of either — or, 
 more probably, had no existence but in the fertile imagina- 
 tion of her pretended offspring. 
 
 Donna Giuliana had prepared a most elegant repast for us, 
 and favoured the company with her presence ; and DonGia- 
 como readily consenting to his sister's accompanying me to 
 Naples, as soon as dinner was over we prepared for our de- 
 parture. Conceive, dear T. your humble servant placed be- 
 side the finest girl of all Italy, driving through a most roman- 
 tic country, on one of the most lovely summer evenings; 
 fanned by cooling zephyrs on one side, inhaling ambrosian 
 gas on the other. The joy of Zeus, when he bore tlie inno- 
 cent Europa on his back through the silvery waves ; the 
 happiness of his brother, when he stole the daughter of Ceres 
 from the Sicilian meadows ; the pleasure of yEneas, when he 
 snuiggled theTyrian queen into the amorous cave, to shelter 
 
 her 
 
 * About six guineas. 
 
 o2 
 
100 
 
 her from the shower (umbrellas being either unknown at 
 that time, or not worn by military men) ; the ecstasy of 
 
 Paris, when ; nay, there are similes enough already ; 
 
 to put you au fait of my sensations at the time. We passed 
 a cave also, the great Posilipan grotto ; but not a la Didon 
 — that is to say, in a much more decent and quiet manner 
 than Virgil's silence leads us to suspect was the case with his 
 hero. You may be sure, had the Mantuan author written 
 the Histoire Secrete, or Chroniqiie scandateitse de la Cour de 
 Carthage, instead of an epic poem, we should have a less 
 abrupt account of the mysterious adventure of the grotto. 
 
 Be that as it may, the Neapolitan couple arrived safe, and 
 pleased with each other, at the head-quarters in the Infres- 
 cata; and after a short toilette, went, solus cum sola, to the 
 play, having previously refreshed themselves, in the Strada 
 Toledo, with some ices, of which the lovely Giuliana par- 
 took, in my opinion, rather too abundantly. — The opera was 
 " Chi d'altrui si vesti presto si spogUa^ ;" remarkable for 
 the probability of the incidents. A young lady of fortune, on 
 her journey to Naples, in order to marry a naval captain, 
 who is to arrive there at an appointed time, is attacked and 
 robbed on the road by a gang of highwaymen : her cham- 
 ber-maid, escaping by some good luck or other, pursues the 
 journey, and forms the plan of imposing herself as the mis- 
 tress on the captain. The latter, on his voyage to Naples, is 
 attacked by an Algerine corsair : his servant, escaping by 
 some good luck or other, pursues the voyage, and forms the 
 plan of imposing himself as his master on the lady. Thus 
 the footman and chamber-maid arrive at Naples nearly at 
 the same time, and cheat each other into wedlock. So far 
 onlv can I give you the fabk^ of this curious dramatic pjo- 
 duction ; my poor Giuliana being, in the nnddlc of the per- 
 formance, seized with what slie called spasms and sickness, 
 
 of 
 
 \Vlio adorns- hil:l^eIf niih others' featlior?, will -oon lit- jilukkcd. 
 
 1 
 
101 
 
 of which by her account, the over perfumed state of my per- 
 son was the cause. It is true, to make myself agreeable, and 
 also to counteract the customary effluvia in the Neapolitan 
 temples of Thalia, I had dropped an additional dose of otto 
 of roses on my handkerchief; but I shrewdly suspect that the 
 five ices of strawberry, raspberry, chocolate, cream, and lem- 
 on, successively and rapidly introduced into the alimentary 
 canal, did the business. Nothing' w as to be done but hasten 
 home in a caless ; where, very contrary to my previous cal- 
 culation, I administered to my fair patient three tea-spoon- 
 fuls of powder of rhubarb, mixed with a q. s. of magnesia 
 from my medicine chest; and wished her a good-night, 
 
 Sic traribit gloria inundi ! 
 
 On my early enquiry the next morning, I learned, to my 
 great joy, that the remedy had had the best effect, and had 
 restored my patient to perfect health, Yet to my shame be 
 it said, the occurence of the preceding- evening had consider- 
 ably damped the sublimity of my ideas of female beauty. 
 The exhibition of the frailties and necessities of matter, will 
 soon dissolve the charm and enthusiasm with which we are 
 apt to behold the most angelic form, or the most transccnd- 
 ant mental perfection. Hence it was that I conveyed the 
 handsome Juliana back to Pozzuoli, with sensations far 
 more composed and tempered than those I had felt on our 
 journey the evening before. 
 
 She is safely lodged again with her brother. Nothing-, 
 therefore, prevents the conclusion of this long and motley 
 sort of an epistle, the extent of which I certainly did not 
 foresee when I took up my pen, which, instead of dimi- 
 nishing in its velocity, .seems absolutely to gain progressive 
 iicceleration. 
 
 " Vires acquirit euiido," 
 
 Your's, &c. 
 LETTER 
 
10^ 
 LETTER VIII. 
 
 Naples, May — , 1S02. 
 
 Dear T. 
 
 IN several of my preceding letters, I have endeavoured 
 to give you a succinct account of the former site, state, and 
 opulence of the ancient towns which, in the reign of Titus, 
 where overwhelmed by an eruption of Mount Vesuvius ; I 
 have described the manner by which their destruction was 
 effected ; and, finally, I have stated to you the means, for- 
 tuitous or premeditated, which led to their re-discovery. 
 You are, no doubt, therefore, prepared and eager to be ush- 
 ered into the ruins themselves. Come along, then, and fol- 
 low the grave Don Michele and me into the spacious court- 
 yard, on a level with, and at a few yards distance from, the 
 Salernian high-road, from which it is separated by a large 
 lattice-gate, adjoining to the abode of the only inhabitant 
 of the once magnificent and populous town of Pompeji, the 
 invalid guardian and guide to its remains. Oh ! the vicissi- 
 tudes of earthly grandeur ! — This very dwelling of the de- 
 crepid Neapolitan veteran ^vas once tenanted by a maniple 
 of those legionaries, whose irresistible valour had subdued all 
 our hemisphere, from the Tyne to the swampy banks of the 
 Nile, from the pillars of Hercules to the shores of India ! 
 Why, T. every one of these four points, at this moment*, 
 acknowledges British sway ; and not only the seas between 
 them, but every accessible corner of the liquid part of the 
 whole globe^ from Nootka Sound to Bass's Streights, bows 
 
 to the nod of half a dozen valves in Charing-Cross I ! ^ 
 
 Proud But a truce to national bragging, which I detest 
 
 as much as individual self-praise : it may do by way of a clap 
 trap at the end of a dry stage-speech, well and significantly 
 
 bawled 
 
 * Egypt ^' th^t t''"'^ "'^" ^^ poftcssion of the British troops. 
 
I"/,/// o/'/Zn- JSAiin^CKS. TllEATHE.S .<f\ o/' 
 
 'PW^-W% 
 
 / T//C OrcfK Thrnirc . 
 
 2 Cortriyl (hilfcrv /aiifi/i(/ f/icntc. 
 
 Poi/ipy/V.i'H ///I j/rWi- 0/7//I- /////•ntc/zs. 
 6 'J '■//// >/r (>/'J^'('if. /vit/i-l'lSi p/i,/f 10 J / 
 
 r/i ffye Tf/nple.wiVi afwipixwlefbrtheWiit/iif. 
 
 /■v ii ('ii/i'/ii/irf/f 
 ^ Piifi/i'r/ifntr for (} vnin/fuh'c ntf/irtAff . 
 
 It) ,S'//rrf ri'inii/N/i/'ni/i'///; w/'f/i ///'' ^'r/'r/rf 
 
 7'/irt !//•>' tr/i,^ //li Ti/n/'/r ///!/r/>. 
 // /{i>,i, f. /lyufi'/ij/ /!• f/K' T/ifn/rr.t jcBfrmrrA.r . 
 
 J.L>J^ZJOJ<r:Pitf-.MlvJ./e'Jd.tJlP.ArKEH.\/AN.\''S/iEr,'.-,7ri'Hy''i-AKryj'U'-yr,iii,l. 
 
103 
 
 bawfed up to the fbnmi of the galleries. No more of it in 
 this place ; let us begin with a sober narrative of facts, or 
 things. 
 
 The quadrangular court which we first entered into, rna;y 
 be as large as the railed part of Leicester-square : it is sur- 
 rounded on all sides by a colonnade, supporting the roof of a 
 gallery ; and from the gallery you enter a number of small 
 apartments, not unlike the cells of a prison ; or, to use an 
 affirmative comparison, greatly resembling the galleries 
 round some of our old inns, with the rooms adjoining; only, 
 in the present instance, the corridor is on the ground floor, 
 there being no upper story. The columns before mentioned, 
 are of brick, stuccoed over, and painted a deep red ; from ten 
 to twelve feet high, at about the like distance from each other, 
 of the Doric order, fluted two-thirds from the top, and other- 
 wise of good proportion. This building was first taken for a 
 gymnasium, afterwards for a prison, and, by some, for a school 
 of gladiators ; at present it is declared to have been a bar- 
 rack for soldiers, because various pieces of armour were 
 found in some of the cells. These little apartments are 
 highly interesting : many have their walls covered with in- 
 scriptions, and curious drawings. When I speak of inscrip- 
 tions or drawings, do not let your classic imagination fancy 
 to itself public records or chefs d'ceuvre of art. I have it in 
 my power at once to put you cm fait in this business, only 
 the comparison will be deemed vulgar. You, no doubt, have 
 in your peregrinations, visited certain apartments at country 
 inns, where former visitors have thought proper to perpetu- 
 ate the memory of their temporary abode, by some neat or 
 clumsy couplets, epigrams, anacreontic or aphrodisiac eflfu- 
 sions, traced either with pencil, chalk, or any pigment we«7'es^ 
 at hand, or even with some sharp-pointed instrument, on the 
 bufl" walls; and, not unfrequently, may you have found those 
 sentences illustrated by sundry hasty and whimsical sketches 
 
 in 
 
104 
 
 111 tlio liii' ni;niiiM, bctrayini'' all the iiulniess of tliO ihlaiit 
 art. Know, tlicii, that such practir.c is of the hii;licsi auti- 
 (piitv ; ^^itlU'ss the walls of the Pnmpcjaii barracks, on \\hich 
 \vc (lis(ovrro(l a vast iiiiinhcr of (ho like inscriptions, j;enr- 
 rallv (lone in red chalk. I)iil, in •^onu' instances, black, or while. 
 iVIost of tli«ni consisted merely of the? name ol the writer, 
 with the cohort and Ie«;iou he beloni»ed to ; on some, the 
 ronsnls of the tinu' were menlioncMl ; and a few were of a sa- 
 tirical import, levelled probably at an obnoxious centurion, 
 or even tribune ; and, in order to i;ivc additional force to the 
 text, a drawin*^- of the subject of the pasipiil was annexed, 
 a})proachi [):;•, in point of design, as near as possible to the 
 puerile sketches you may at times have noticed on some of 
 the dead walls in the London streets. The letters were all 
 capitals ; and although not absolutely bke our present Roman 
 alphabet, mi«;ht easily be read, particularly by one who^fiom 
 the Hcrculaucau manuscrij)ts, had become a little familiar 
 with antique penmanshij). Some names and sentences were 
 Greek, whence it may fairly be inferred that the Roman 
 troops wer(^ not solely con>pos»^d of Italian subjects. A i^en- 
 tleman, of the name of Nonius Maximus, occured repeat- 
 edly on those walls; not, however, with ' mention honorable ;" 
 nor was the whole length j)orlrait annexed to his name such 
 as to convey a favourable impression either of his figure or 
 the skill of the artist. A copy, drawn from memory, by the 
 pen of your humble servant, will perhai)s amuse you. 
 
 Simple 
 
105 
 
 Simple as this design may appear, some curious and im- 
 portant inferences are to be drawn from it. 1st. That Mr. 
 Nonius was left-handed — 2dly. That he wanted one finger 
 on the said hand, which probably was carried away by 
 grape-shot — 3dly. That one of his legs was shorter than 
 the other, or that a bullet in his thigh or calf had made him 
 draw up the leg in the manner here described. With respect 
 to the nature of the weapon he wields, our best efforts will 
 be mere conjecture. Don Michele, not without strong rea- 
 sons, declared it to be a sword ; but would not decide what 
 kind of a sword, whether gladius, ensis, or inucro. But 
 surely if it had been intended for a sword, there would have 
 been some marks of a hilt, handle, &c. which are not to be 
 seen. It appears, therefore, more reasonable to take the 
 instrument for a mere rod or vine switch virga, with which 
 Nonius Maximus, whom I strongly suspect to have been 
 the provost-marshal, was in the habit of inflicting punish- 
 ment on the transgressors of the articles of war ; and the 
 frequent use of which had rendered him so odious to his 
 comrades, as to procure him the honour of being posted in 
 effigy on the barrack walls. 
 
 As I said before, the preceding whole-length profile is 
 drawn from recollection only : not but that I felt very de- 
 sirous to take, on the spot itself, a correct copy of this figure, 
 as well as of some of the most interesting inscriptions, and 
 actually pulled out pencil and pocket-book for that purpose ; 
 but the invalid Argus checked my classic avidity, by inform- 
 ing me, that he had strict orders from his superiors not to 
 allow the use of pencil, paper, or any writing or drawing 
 materials, within the town of Pompeji. Don Michele, who 
 observed my disappointment at this prohibition, slyly winked 
 to me with his left eye, while a repeated gliding motion of 
 his right thumb, across the finger nearest to it, made a cer- 
 tain telegraphic signal, which, without any key or alphabet, 
 
 P I under- 
 
106 
 
 r understood to be an exhortation to bribery. Unfortunate- 
 ly tor you, my dear T. and all those who may chance to 
 read this, on this occasion I chose to be honest — that is to 
 say, not to make another a rogue ; and left the inscriptions 
 uncopied, not without a sensible degree of offence to 
 my fellow-traveller for not complying with his well-meant 
 advice. 
 
 Close to the barracks, which appear to have stood in the 
 most public part of the city, are the theatres, the forum, 
 and one or two temples, all connected by very neat and 
 well-paved courts ; or, where the ground is elevated, by 
 commodious public staircases. The tout- ensemble appeared 
 totally different from our present mode of building; indeed, 
 from its elegant compactness, the whole looked more like 
 the model of a town, than a town in reality. But to con- 
 tinue my narrative, which shall be guided rather by the conr 
 tiguity of the places, than the order in which we saw them : 
 
 To the right, a high wall separates the lesser theatre from 
 the barracks : this is called the covered theatre, because it 
 was so constructed, that, by canvas awnings, the spectators 
 could be defended from sun or rain. A door through the 
 w all leads into the different galleries, and into the open space 
 in the middle, resembling our pit. — You are too well ac- 
 quainted with the construction of ancient theatres, to require 
 a minute description of the interior of this, which is one of 
 the smallest I have yet seen ; but beautifully neat, and, ex- 
 cepting the spoliation of the mai-ble slabs, with which the 
 whole of the inside, seats and all, had been covered, excel- 
 lently preserved. To have torn off those is really pitiful, 
 and downright Vandalism. The use to which the frag- 
 ments of marble might be put, could not have been very 
 great ; w^hereas the original aspect of the theatre, entirely 
 encrustated with marble, must have been charming. On both 
 
 sides 
 

107 
 
 sides are the usual seats for magistrates ; the orchestra^ as 
 with us, is along the front of the stage ; and the scena, with 
 its brick wings, very shallow. This theatre might hold 
 about two thousand spectators. It was on one of the steps 
 here that Don Michele gave vent to his doubts respecting 
 the authenticity of the Pompejan structures, as stated to 
 you in one of my preceding letters. 
 
 A staircase leads from the level on which this theatre 
 stands, to an eminence on which various public edifices are 
 situated. The most conspicuous of those is a small temple, 
 or, rather, chapel, said to have been dedicated to Isis. 
 Here the guide called our attention to a secret passage, per- 
 forated in two places ; observing, that it was in that pas- 
 sage, and through its openings, that the concealed priests of 
 Isis were wont to pronounce the oracles of their goddess to 
 the deluded and credulous multitude. The invalid was 
 going to add to this valuable piece of information, other 
 particulars, perhaps equally interesting, when Don Michele 
 stopped his progress, by telling him he need be at no further 
 trouble, since he was sure the Signor Inglese would not be- 
 lieve one word of the whole story. '' The gentlenian," he 
 added, '' is too great an admirer of antiquity, to be per- 
 suaded that his friends, the ancients, would be capable of 
 employing fraud in their worship. I, for my part, am con- 
 vinced, that all the oracles we read of in history, were either 
 contrived by similar tricks of imposition, or, what is still 
 more probable, by direct inspirations of Satan, the arch- 
 fiend of mankind, who, before the establishment of our holy 
 faith, was absolute lord and master of the human race." 
 
 My friend having disburthened his spleen by the preced- 
 ing observation, was, as usual, for a little while afterwards, 
 more cheerful. The guide took us round a paved courts in 
 which we found an altar, of a round shape, and a well on 
 
 p 2 tlie 
 
>Jl 
 
 v.v. 
 
 108 
 
 the otlier side. A little way on^ a cistern was placed, with 
 four apertures, to facilitate the procuring of water. In this 
 court, it is to be supposed, sacrifices and other holy rites 
 took place : this opinion was confirmed by the conductor, 
 who told us that various sacrificatory utensils, such as lamps, 
 paterae, tripods, &c. were here found, when the place was 
 first excavated. One of the tripods dug out in this yard, 
 is of the most admirable workmanship : on each of the three 
 legs, a beautiful sphinx, with an unusual head-dress, is 
 A ""'"^ placed, probably in allusion to the hidden meanings of the 
 oracles which were delivered in the temple above-mention- 
 ed : the hoop, in which the bason for the coals was sunk, is 
 elegantly decorated with rams' heads, connected by garlands 
 of flowers ; and in the bason, which was of baked earth, the 
 very cinders left from the last sacrifice (nearly f^^OOO years 
 ago), were seen as fresh as if they had been the remains of 
 yesterday's fire! 
 
 From the court before-mentioned, you enter another 
 somewhat larger, with a stone pulpit in the middle, and 
 stone seats near the walls. This spot, therefore, might either 
 have been the auditorium of some philosopher, or the place 
 where the public orators pleaded their causes before the peo- 
 ple, like the rostra at Rome. Every thing here is in the 
 highest order and preservation. 
 
 The great amphitlieatre proudly rears its walls over 
 every other edifice on the same elevated spot. For a coun- 
 try town like Pompeji, this is a stupendous structure : it had 
 twenty-four rows of seats, the circumference of the lowest of 
 Avhich is about 3000 Neapolitan palms, and is supposed to 
 have held 30,000 people. The upper walls are much in- 
 jured, having from time immemorial, before the disco- 
 very of Pompeji, partially projected above-ground; and the 
 whole is, altogether, not near so substantial and well pre- 
 served as the theatre at Verona^ which I saw two years ago. 
 
 You 
 
109 
 
 You have now, my dear T. seen the fashionable, or rather 
 public end, the Whitehall, of the town of Pompeji ; a short 
 trip will bring us into the High-street, the shops, bagnios, 
 and the private dwellings of its inhabitants. Let us see what 
 is going on there. 
 
 It is from a corn-field you descend into the excavated up- 
 per end of the High-street of this town. An awful sensation 
 of melancholy seized upon my mind when 1 beheld these sad 
 remains of former opulence and comfort. In viewing the 
 remnants of remote ages, we are generally capable of tracing 
 the period of their duration from exterior marks left upon 
 them by the hand of TIME. But here, I confess, my ideas 
 of time were so strangely assailed and bewildered, tliat, were I 
 to repeat all the whimsical doubts which on this occasion found 
 their way into my brain, my possession of the latter might, I 
 truly fear, be disputed. AVhat, said I, is this string of events 
 this something, which history intercalates between the cata- 
 strophe and the discovery ? A point in the infinite series of 
 eternity ; the passing of which we contrive to ascertain by the 
 apparent rotation of the sun, or of some heavenly body or 
 other within our observation. — Now let us, for once, suppose 
 the sun, moon, stars, &c. stood still (apparently or in reality) 
 — no night, no noon, no alternate changes of seasons — in 
 fact, no exterior data by which to assist (like the pious Ca- 
 tholic, who depends upon the beads in his rosary for the num- 
 bers of Paternosters and Avemarias he has discharged,) sup- 
 pose, I say, a total absence of external means to assist that 
 faculty of our mind, called memory ; a faculty which, under 
 such conditions, would, I suspect, be either intirely wanting, 
 or turn out quite another sort of thing — What then becomes 
 of your time, of history, our age, our actions ? The time for 
 our meals would solely depend upon our appetite, there being 
 no morning for breakfast, no noon or night for dinner ; no 
 inethod for computing wages, salaries, or interest ; no pos- 
 sibility 
 
no 
 
 sibility of coinbiuation in the movements of armies^ or tlie 
 -transactions of common life. What a chaos of confusion ! 
 arising- solely from a fixed situation of the earth and the 
 heavenly bodies^ from a mere want of motion ; without 
 which, it would appear impossible for time to exist. 
 
 Heavens ! m hither am I wandering ? What in the world 
 could possess me to make you pay })ostage for my metaphy- 
 sical dreams ; instead of sending you a sober and cool descrip- 
 tion of this street^ which consists of a narrow road for carts, 
 with foot-pavements on each side. The middle road is paved 
 with large blocks of lava, and the ruts of the wheels proclaim 
 its antiquit}^, even at the time of its being overwhelmed : the 
 footpaths are more elevated than those in London, generally 
 a foot and a half from the level of the carriaoe road. The 
 houses on each side, whether shops or private buildings, have 
 no claim to external elegance ; they consist but of a ground- 
 floor, and have no opening- towards the street, except the door. 
 No window is to be seen, unless the open counter of the shops 
 towards the street be deemed such. The windows of the pri- 
 vate houses look into an inner square court ; and even those 
 are generally so high, that to look out of them, must have re- 
 quired a foot-stool. The apartments themselves, are, with 
 the exception of one in each house which probably sened as 
 a drawing-room, extremely diminutive, and many very low. 
 How the great Romans, for whom the world was too little, 
 could bear to be cooped up in those little cells, not much 
 larger than a water-closet, in a climate like this, will be a nut 
 to crack for the antiquarians. Don Michele perhaps saved 
 them the trouble. " If," he observed, " I could persuade 
 myself that these pigsties were actually the work of Roman 
 architecture, I should feel no difficulty in solving the doubts 
 of my credulous English friend. It was these very confined 
 cells which made them so eager to get abroad, and enlarge, by 
 conquests, their elbow-room ; and the same reason induces 
 
 us 
 
Ill 
 
 us modern Italians, who live in comfortable^ lofty, and spa- 
 cious dwellings, to remain where we are ; convinced as we 
 feel, that any change of abode would only be for the worse." 
 
 Friend Michele uttered this opinion of his with that unfortu- 
 nate ambiguity of accent, peculiar to a certain description of 
 people, which left it doubtful whether his meaning was ironical 
 or serious. The name of pigsties, however, they can only de- 
 serve from their size. In point of decoration, the Pompej an 
 rooms are neat, and, in many instances, superlatively elegant ; 
 the floors generally consist of figured pavements, either in 
 larger stones of various colours, regularly cut and symmetri- 
 cally disposed, or composed of some beautiful mosaic, with a 
 fanciful border, and some animal or figure in the middle. It 
 is surprising into how many pleasing shapes the fertile imagi- 
 nation of the artists would convert an endless variety of geome- 
 trical lines and figures in the design of their borders : their tes- 
 selated pavements alone would evince their skill in geometry. 
 The ground is usually white, the ornaments black, but other co- 
 lours are often employed with increased effect. Thus much 
 for the floors ! The walls of the rooms are equally if not more 
 deserving our attention : they are painted, either in compart- 
 ments, exhibiting some mythological or historical event, or 
 simply coloured over with alight ground, adorned with a bor- 
 der, and perhaps an elegant little vignette, in the middle, or at 
 equal distances. The former (the historical paintings)no longer 
 exist in Pompej i ; for wherever a wall was found which contain- 
 ed a tolerable picture of some distinct subject, the Neapolitan 
 government took off the painting, together with the upper sur- 
 face of the wall, and deposited it in the museum at Portici ; 
 so that in those apartments which had previously been the 
 most elegant, the bare walls thus spoliated, now only remain. 
 
 You may well suppose, dear T. that the greatest care and 
 ingenuity were required to peel off, by m^ans of sawing, pieces 
 
 of 
 
11^ 
 
 of wall, twenty and more square feet in extent, without des* 
 troying the picture ; and I was astonished to find, from the nu- 
 merous specimens in the museum, how successful this mode 
 had proved : yet even this method was no modern invention ; 
 for, strange to tell, among the excavated remains of Stabiae, 
 the workmen discovered an apartment with some paintings, 
 which had been separated, by the ancients themselves, from 
 some wall (in Greece perhaps) with the obvious intent of 
 being inserted in another place : but the operation m as pre- 
 vented by the ruin of the city ; and the paintings, therefore, 
 were found merely leaning with one side against the wall of 
 the apartment. 
 
 However desireable it would have been to have left the rooms 
 in the same state in which they were first discovered, yet as 
 there is no roof to any of the houses, the paintings would 
 soon have been destroyed by the dust and rain ; and, in this 
 point of view, it appears judicious to have secured these va- 
 luable, and almost only remains of ancient painting, in 
 a manner which insures their presen ation for centuries to 
 come. 
 
 Be this as it may, it certainly is greatly to be lamented 
 that, on the first discovery of these treasures of antiquity, it 
 was not thought proper to adopt a more eflfectual method 
 for preserving them entire and uninjured to future a^es. 
 Such an object might have been attained with ease, and 
 with^ comparatively, little expense, by repairing every house 
 as soon as it was entirely excavated, constructing a roof for 
 each, and otherwise restoring it, as much as possible, to its 
 pristine state. This done, the paintings, mosaics, statues, 
 vases, in short, every thing might safely have been left in 
 the place to which it belonged, the whole town would have 
 formed the most valuable museum in tlic universe, and its 
 existence, by a careful superintendence, and occasional re- 
 pairs. 
 
113 
 
 pairs, might thus have been prolonged for many centm-ies 
 to come ; whereas, in its present abandoned state, the walls 
 of the houses will soon Ml in — indeed some are decaying 
 very fast — and, in less than a hundred years, the benefit of 
 the singularvolcanic preservation for so many ages will have 
 been in vain; the appearance of Pompeji, if then it be at 
 all discernible, will be no wise different from many other 
 masses of Italian ruins, a shapeless heap of stones and 
 rubbish. 
 
 This idea, it would not even now be too late to adopt ; 
 and I took an opportunity to suggest it to a gentleman con- 
 nected with the Museum at Portici ; but he shrugged up 
 his shoulders, saying, " Your plan, sir, is great and beauti- 
 ful, like every thing which comes from your nation ; but its 
 execution, believe me, would require means far beyond the 
 reach of this government. Little as may appear to you to 
 have been done by us, you would be surprised to hear of 
 the immense sums which have hitherto been expended in 
 these excavations ; not only for the wages of labourers and 
 workmen, who necessarily proceed very slowly, but also in 
 the purchase of the lands under which the city is buried, 
 and which of course, by the digging, are rendered useless, 
 without in many instances, remunerating the sacrifice by 
 any discoveries of value or interest. 
 
 These arguments certainly carry their weight in the 
 mouth of a Neapolitan, and the necessity of resorting to 
 them will, I fear, long exist. Were Pompeji as near to 
 London as it is to Naples, in a few years time not a privy 
 would remain hid : if the government were disinclined to 
 undertake the excavation, a subscription of private indivi- 
 duals would soon furnish the means of accomplishing sode- 
 .^irable an object. 
 
 " But 
 
114 
 
 But these are pious wishes^ which shall no longer detaiii 
 me from the thread of my subject. 
 
 I Avas speaking' of the painted decorations of the rooms, 
 and especially of those which still remain in their places^ 
 the subjects of which are more of the fanciful and ornamen- 
 tal, than the historical kind. Although the former are cer- 
 tainly inferior to the latter, yet, for the present, I chiefly con- 
 fine myself to what is to be met with on the spot, as I shall 
 hereafter have an opportunity of describing some of the most 
 valuable of those paintings w hich were separated from the 
 walls^ and lodged in the museum. 
 
 To shew the brilliancy of the paintings, our veteran guide 
 threw over one of the walls of an apartment a pailful of 
 Avater, which spread a temporary lustre over the colours, 
 deadened by thedust and flyingsand. They certainly looked 
 as if they had been laid on but a month ago ; even the 
 greens had faded little, or perhaps not at all: for who can 
 tell the precise hue of the original tint? As you are some- 
 thing of an artist, it will not be tedious to you to read a few 
 desultory remarks on the mechanical part of ancient pain- 
 ting, which occurred to me on the spot. 
 
 Notwithstanding all that has been said on the subject, it 
 appears still a matter of doubt to me, whether the medium 
 used for laying on the colours in the Pompejan rooms, was 
 not different from that employed in our fresco paintings, of 
 which description these are generally supposed to be : no 
 rubbing with a wet finger was capable of detaching the least 
 lint from the walls. I am, therefore, inclined to believe, that 
 either the medium itself w as some oily or unctuous liquid ; 
 or that, if the paintings were really alfresco, a coat of some 
 such substance was afterwards laid overtlie whole like a var- 
 nish : indeed, a faint gloss is easily perceptible ; but, upon the 
 
 whole. 
 
115 
 
 whole, I would fain give. my opinion in favour, of the oily me^ 
 dium, the peculiar character of which th^ strokesof the pencil 
 carry with them. To this hypothesis it has been objected, 
 that the heat of the volcanic sand with which the rooms must 
 have been overwhelmed, would have aflfected the oil ; but it 
 remains to be proved, that the w hole interior of the rooms 
 was completely filled with sand of such a heat as to injure 
 the oil. If such had been the case, the colours themselves 
 must necessarily have suffered, or have been changed, which 
 is no where perceptible. This latter circumstance, indeed, 
 appears altogether astonishing, and to me, I own, perfectly 
 inexplicable. 
 
 In regard to the pigments themselves, it would be an enquiry 
 of importance to the arts, if tlieir nature were investigated 
 by a person of chemical knowledge : but as I have no pre- 
 tensions to such a qualification, and since the mere permission 
 oiei/eing the pictures would not suffice for such a research, I 
 must regret the necessity of dismissing so interesting a topic 
 in a superficial manner. 
 
 The use of various kinds of ochres, from the pale buflf to 
 the burnt brown, is obviously and abundantly discernible : 
 a metallic light blue, of a beautiful hue, and a similar green, 
 appears likewise to have had a place on the Pompejan pallet; 
 vermilion, of equal brightness at least with our present one, 
 I have seen no where; but a red, somewhat darker and dul- 
 ler, such as would be produced by a mixture of about two- 
 thirds of our vermilion and one third of burnt umber, has 
 been copiously employed in every apartment ; even the co- 
 lumns of the barracks are painted with that colour. It is, 
 however, not impossible but this red may have been pure 
 vermilion, and have suffered some deterioration of lustre 
 from heat and time. The dark blue comes nearest to our 
 indigo. Very bright yellows are not to be met with ; per- 
 
 Q % haps 
 
116 
 
 haps more on account of the harshness of their effect^ than 
 from the want of a pigment of that kind. Some yellow dra- 
 peries in the pictures of the musuem, indeed, prove that the 
 ancients possessed adequate colours for that tint ; but there 
 is nothino" which approaches our fine lakes. Of greens there 
 is every imaginable variety in the abundance of foliage and 
 ararlands : and the white and black are likewise excellent ; 
 although, from the nature of those colours, it is impossible 
 to compare them with our modern pigments of the same hue. 
 
 In regard to the merits of the ornamental paintings, it is 
 natural to suppose, that all are not equally praise-worthy ; 
 but thus much I may venture to say, that while none deserve 
 the stigma of daubings, very many are exquisitely beautiful. 
 In the borders of foliage, there is an airiness, taste, elegance, 
 and truth, which you have no conception of: indeed, upon 
 a pretty extensive inspection of the works of ancient art, 
 they appear to me to possess one feature of pre-eminence 
 over those of modern artists, which may always serve as a 
 test of their authenticity. This consists in that characteristic 
 truth, calm repose, want of frivolity and meretricious orna- 
 ments, that sublime simplicity which, with a few exceptions, 
 and those of very recent date, our modern productions are 
 destitute of The drawings at Pompeji look as if they had 
 ! been taken from nature; most of our's, as if they had been 
 copied from a drawing-book. This characteristic fidelity 
 extends to the most trivial subjects. A vine-leaf, to be sure, 
 is a vine-leaf; a butterfly, a butterfly: and both, drawn by 
 the generality of the painters of our times, will, without a 
 superscription, be recognized ; but they will want the pecu- 
 liarity of character which, at first sight, strikes the eye with 
 pleasure, and which, in an ancient painting, is obvious. 
 Thus you observe, on one of the walls, a little vignette, re- 
 presenting a number offish basking in the water, drawn hi 
 a most masterly style of nature: not., by any means, with 
 
 Dutclj, 
 
117 
 
 Dutch minuteness ; on the contrary, bold ; but so expres- 
 Bive, so fanciful, that you forget the triviality of the subject 
 in the discerning skill of the artist. On another wall, the 
 eager contest of some birds pecking at fruit, is every thing 
 but life itself. A heap of dead game, a parcel of naked boys 
 playing — how natural, how inimitably true ! 
 
 I am aware, dear T. that the above reproach of want of 
 expression, does not attach to the early masters of modern 
 art. The placid innocence of Raphael, the divine serenity 
 of Guido, the manly firmness of Buonaroti, the awful stern- 
 ness of Rosa, the poetic sublimity of Corregio ; in short, the 
 characteristic traits of many other celebrated early painters, 
 gain our instant approbation, because nature alone was their 
 prototype. In beholding the human features as represented 
 by those artists, we seem as if we recollected the physiogno- 
 my ; we are convinced it is not an unmeaning blank of ex- 
 pression we behold, but nature itself; assisted, perhaps, or 
 embellished by genius. Far otherwise with the works of a 
 
 ^ , , and a host of moderns. Their faces are 
 
 as correct as insignificant ; as void of error as they are of 
 thought or expression. Some honourable exceptions, in- 
 deed, are to be found among the number of our British art- 
 ists, but too few to invalidate the observation in a general 
 point of view. 
 
 But enough of these speculations, to which I have given 
 vent the more freely, as 1 was sure, my dear T. you would 
 understand, you would feel the meaning of my remarks : 
 otherwise, indeed, I should have reason to fear, all I said 
 would appear downright nonsense. Sapienii sat ! 
 
 Besides the naivete and truth in the design of the de- 
 corative paintings discovered in Pompeji, there is a hu- 
 mourous oddity in their composition, a fanciful extrava- 
 gance which draws forth a simper of satisfaction. What can 
 
 for 
 
118 
 
 j?p 36 1 /s for instance be more ludicrous than a Grasshopper travelling' 
 
 in a buggy drawn by a grave Parrot* ; a number of boys rid- 
 
 (/>4^/U^i^^ Zt^fcf ->inga race on dolphins; avvoman selling Cupids from a cage; 
 
 .•9n*KJH*.Sto. ^/4x .^ a Faun fighting a he-goat ; a set of boys frightened by a lit- 
 
 •Ks^tci^. <ini ^ tie fellow's holding an ugly mask, as large as himself, before 
 
 f\ ■ 7*/2 jjjj^ J j^j^jj ^ number of the like conceits, the ofispring of a 
 
 humourous, luxuriant, and (entre nous soil dit) lascivious 
 
 fancy. But more of the latter presently. 
 
 Some of the rooms were painted in a different manner from 
 any of the former. The walls were covered with designs of 
 fanciful colonnades, lattice-work, and various architectural 
 drawings, in the worst of tastes. The columns slender, of 
 no defined order; the perspective, if any, wretched; in 
 short, the whole without any elegance, symmetry, or plan 
 whatever. Of this kind of decoration, several specimens are 
 preserved in the museum ; and the only thing which ap- 
 peared interesting in them, was, the gradation of the five 
 tints employed in their design, generally in the following 
 order : — very light flesh-colour — a darker hue of the same — 
 light red (middle tint) — deep red — brown. With those, 
 light and shade were regularly produced, as in some of our 
 modern paintings and paper-hangings, in what is, rather im- 
 properly, termed the chiar' oscuro manner. You know what 
 I allude to. These architectural specimens, some of the 
 landscapes, and other pieces elsewhere seen, prove, I think,, 
 one fact which is rather singular : — the ancients, however 
 great their skill in geometry, were ignorant of the science of 
 perspective. For although their paintings shew, that they 
 were sometimes aware of the propriety of lessening distant 
 objects in representing the same on a plane surface, yet it is 
 as evident, that this experience had not by them been ex- 
 panded into a mathematical system, susceptible of calcula- 
 tion. The objects in their paintings do not converge to- 
 wards 
 
 I » See plate 9. 
 
 * f. 
 
119 
 
 wards one horizontal point; they rise behind and above 
 each other ; the further ends of the roofs are drawn upwards ; 
 all looks as if taken from a bird's-eye view; or, as I have 
 observed in a former letter, like the drawings of the Chinese, 
 or of our very early modern artists. 
 
 The above, I think, will enable you to form a pretty ac- 
 curate idea of the private dwellings in the town of Pompeji. 
 Probably the description falls as short of your expectation, 
 as the sight of them did of mine. Take away the painted 
 walls and the mosaic pavements, and Don Michele's epithet 
 will not be far from truth. Possibly, the circumstance of the 
 houses having but a ground floor, may be attributed to the 
 fear of earthquakes, which the vicinity of Vesuvius must have, 
 rendered as frequent in those times, as they are at this mo- 
 ment; probably indeed more so, the volcano not having 
 then burst itself a vent for the combustible and fermenting 
 matter contained in the bowels and subten*aneous precints 
 of the mountain. But waving the consideration of earth- 
 quakes, we need not feel any degree of surprise at the dimi- 
 nutive size of these habitations. It is in their temples and 
 public buildings only, that the ancient Romans and Greeks 
 displayed the grandeur and costliness we still admire ; while 
 in their own dwellings and habits of private life, they were 
 generally as humble and frugal, as they were magnificent 
 and sumptuous in the former. I say, generally ; for I am 
 well aware, that the luxury of some Patricians in the capital, 
 after the conquests of Corinth and Carthage, would form an 
 exception to my argument. But in the country towns, the 
 extravagance of the metropolis would in all probability find 
 few admirers or imitators. 
 
 We now strolled down the High -street, and had proceed- 
 ed but a few yards, when Don Michele, looking upwards, 
 exclaimed, with a burst of laughter, "-G. . . o .' che cosa vara 
 
 ahhiamo 
 
120 
 
 ahhiamo qui ! ! *" Indeed, short sighted as I am, it requi-* 
 red no optic aid to perceive, on the ^vall of one of the 
 houses, apiece of sculpture, in basso-reHevo, representing a 
 monstrous emblem, of more tlian Patagonian dimensions. 
 Here, 1 confess, my powers of divination were completely at 
 a stand. I could not possibly guess at the meaning of so 
 extraordinary a curiosity. Uncertain whether this most cu- 
 rious relic of antiquity was intended to proclaim the trade car- 
 ried on within (in which case certainly a more unequivocal 
 shop-board could scarcely be devised), or whether the house 
 itself was dedicated to some of the singular religious rites so 
 common among the pagans, I stopped short for a moment. 
 Don INlichele, obsen ing with inward triumph my astonish- 
 ment at so unusual an exhibition, receded two steps, then 
 rested the whole weight of his body on his left leg, with the 
 additional support of his gold-headed cane, which being for- 
 forcibly planted against his left hip-bone, acted the part of a 
 buttress ; and concealed, by an application of his right thumb 
 on one side, and his forefinger on the other, the best part of 
 his pleasant chin, which, mangre this temporai-y framing, 
 still retained the usual proportion to the rest of his face. Ha- 
 ving gained this attitude of defiance, his eyes only, not his 
 face, were, with an arch significancy, directed towards me 
 for a second or two, previously to the following address : 
 
 '' I long to know what you, Signor Don Luigi, the cham- 
 pion of antiquity, think of this classic jewel." 
 
 My hopes to ward ofl' the threatened attack, by observing 
 to my friend the little benefit that the knowledge of my sen- 
 timents could produce to him, who had a short time ago 
 solemnly pronounced the whole of the objects around us a 
 modern forgery, were in vain. — Don Michele replied, "' If 
 
 any 
 
 * ZoHiiil> 1 what rare curiosity have we got here ! ! 
 
121 
 
 any tliino^, sir, could induce me to retract the opinion you al- 
 lude to, it would be the discovery of this very unique piece 
 of sculpture, which, whatever may be my opinion of the 
 rest, from its classic elegance^ and the beauUj of its proportions ^ 
 I firmly believe to be a true relic of ancient art." 
 
 This concession obliged me to shift my ground. I had 
 not come twelve miles in the heat of the day, to hold a dis- 
 putation in the main street of Pompeji ; I therefore turned 
 the tables on my litigious friend, by telling him, that what- 
 ever might be my opinion of the rest, an opinion which he 
 well knew already, ihe basso-relievo in question, certainly 
 had all the appearance of a fraudulent addition : but that, if 
 he chose, we would talk over the subject on our way home, 
 and not lose our time in disputing, since much was yet to be 
 seen, and the day far advanced. 
 
 For once, friend Michele consented to this suspension of 
 arms, and left me to proceed in my antiquarian investigation. 
 
 To you, however, who are not a party concerned, I may 
 freely impart some reflections which this basso-relievo, as well 
 as other plastic curiosities of a similar description,have elicited. 
 
 In England, where our ideas of delicacy are perhaps the 
 most refined, the public exposureof a similar sculpture would 
 probably render the street as impassable to the fair sex, as 
 was the avenue of that synagogue, in the entrance of which 
 a wag had suspended a full-grown pig, the clamour and con- 
 tortions of which finally obliged the Israelitish congregation 
 to get out by the windows. To an Englishman, therefore, 
 uninitiated in the customs of antiquity, it would appear ut- 
 terly impossible, for a Roman matron, or maiden of chastity, 
 not to go any round, rather than pass this obnoxious house ; 
 until he learns, to his unspeakable astonishment, that many 
 
 R of 
 
122 
 
 of ihe ancient lamps to beseenatPortici, and in almost every 
 museum, were of the like figure ; that similar emblems were 
 not only frequently worn as amulets, or even as fashionable 
 broaches, by those vei*y matrons and virgins, but often ador- 
 ed by them in temples raised to their honour. How many 
 statues and groupes are still extant, which attest the warm 
 and erotic fancy of the ancients ! Witness the numerous herr 
 maphrodites, tauns, and nymi)hs, and a variety of others, 
 which, although received into our museums, are carefully se- 
 cluded by curtains and presses from the eyes of promiscuous 
 visitors ; or, like the group of the goat and satyr in the 
 vault at Portici, absolutely hidden from the tace of the earth. 
 What else is to be inferred from all this, but that the notions 
 of decorum were then different from what they are with us ? 
 And is this to be wondered at, when we reflect, that those no- 
 tions arc very diftbrent among different nations at the present 
 day ? In Russia, for instance, men and women bathe together 
 
 in parties ; in France, But I need not adduce any of 
 
 the numerous facts or instances I have in store from personal 
 experience, to prove that a French, Italian, or Russian lady, 
 of equal correctness in point of conduct with an English-wo- 
 man, will allow herself expressions and actions which the lat- 
 ter would shrink from with disgust. But not in diiferent coun- 
 tries alone are the ideas of decency so very different ; even in 
 the same country they rise and fall, according to a variety of 
 circumstances which possess innnediale influence on them. 
 Not to travel abroad for an example, surely an English au- 
 dience, at the time of Congreve, Mrs. Centlivre, and other 
 dramatic authors of libertine memory, could not have posses- 
 sed the same degree of delicacy and modesty as we happily 
 boast of at present^ w ho shudder at even an equivocal expres- 
 sion employed by our modern writers for the stage. 
 
 Let us, therefore, dear T. behave with candour and tolera- 
 tion to those fair Ponipc.jans, whose callings obliged them to 
 
 pass 
 
123 
 
 pass by this unfortunate spot ; let us be persuaded, they 
 would cast down their looks, or, at best, only steal a side 
 glance through their fan-sticks ; or, if they did not mince the 
 matter, that all was allowed by usage, and selon la coutume 
 du pays. 
 
 My Jidus Achates, by degrees, now began to Ije a most 
 troublesome companion {Angl. boar). Like the quicksilver 
 which rises in the tube in proportion as the atmospheric fluid 
 is extracted from the receiver of an air pump, so did his ill- 
 humour increase in the same degree as his patience was gra- 
 dually exhausting by the variety of objects on which he set 
 no value, however interesting they appeared to me. This 
 disorganization of temper was not only most legibly poiir- 
 trayed upon his countenance (which with a Neapolitan is 
 an unerring index of the state of his mind), but presently 
 burst fortii in the siu'ly question addressed to our guide : Ce 
 
 ne sono altrecog ie da veder*? To which the phlegmatic 
 
 invalid simply and drily replied, Spctta 'n pd f , leading the 
 way out of this excavation up the hill, over some rich corn- 
 fields and vineyards. Rejoiced at the idea of feasting my 
 classic eyes on new objects of admiration, I hastened after 
 him with renovated strength and spirits ; but Don Michele, 
 who, in addition to other grievances, now also pleaded the 
 cravings of his unclassic stomach, brought up the rear with 
 as good a grace as 1 have seen a poor deserter descend the 
 gloomy steps of the Savoy. To set his latter plea aside, and 
 to invigorate him for new exertions, it was of no avail to pro- 
 mise him as 2:ood'a dinner as the best inn at Resina could 
 afford ; he coldly replied, Sara una cena, se pur troviamo 
 da mangiare\. 
 
 Amidst such edifying discourse we arrived at another por- 
 tion 
 
 * Is there any other nonsense to be viewed ? f Wail a bit. 
 
 + It will be a supper, if we find any thing to eat at all. 
 
 R 
 
 O 
 
12* 
 
 lion of Pompcji (laid open like the former)^ into which we 
 immediately descended. It was likewise part of a street, and 
 as the guide informed me, perfectly in line with the one we 
 had already seen ; a circumstance which, coupled with that 
 of its equality in width and appearance, strongly induces a 
 belief that this excavated fragment is only a continuation, or, 
 rather the other end of the/ormcr. If so, Pompeji must have 
 been a very considerable town, and its main street nearly a 
 mile in length. Amono; the houses on both sides, there were 
 shops and private dwellings as before ; and some of the lat- 
 ter, which we entered, were distinguished, like those we had 
 previously viewed, by the remains of former internal elegance, 
 such as tesselated pavements, paintejJ walls, &c. ; most of 
 them had likewise an interior court, with apartments around, 
 but again all wonderfully diminutive. 
 
 At the end of this street was the town-gate, consisting of 
 three outlets : the middle and larger one (over the street) for 
 carts and horses ; and the smaller ones on each side (over the 
 foot-pavement) for pedestrians, exactly similar to our Tem- 
 ple-bar ; only that the architecture of this gate was rude, and 
 destitute of any ornament whatever, and the footway about 
 a foot and half raised from the level of the street ; a circum- 
 stance which strongly bespeaks the sobriety of the former in- 
 habitants *. 
 
 To the lefi of the gate (going out of the town) I perceived 
 a court-yard of a singular appearance ; and no sooner had the 
 guide, on my enquiry, stated it to be a churchyard, or, rather, 
 burying-ground, than Don Michele, with a deep-fetched sigh, 
 exclaimed, Grazie a Dlo ! siamo Jinalmejite al termine di 
 questacrociata d'anticagUe-f; thinking probably that all end- 
 ed with death. But here again he found himself disappointed, 
 
 as 
 
 * See plate 6. 
 + Thank God ! wc arc come at last to the end of our antiquarian crunade. 
 
N 
 
 1 
 
 
 ^ 
 ^ 
 
 m 
 
 s 
 
 H 
 
 ^ 
 
 
 
 
 
 ^ 
 
 1 
 
 cb 
 
 s 
 
 
 1 
 
 
 ^ 
 
 ■ii 
 
 *; 
 
 
 •TS 
 
 a 
 
 
 5 
 
 ^ 
 
125 
 
 as you shall presently hear. This was really a most curious 
 place ; and, if minutely investigated, might yield matter e- 
 nou2:h for a distinct treatise. Don Grumble tried even here 
 to give vent to his spleen. " A burying-place, forsooth !" he 
 called out ; '' \\\\j, 'tis not large enough to bury the Pompe- 
 jan cats, much less its Christians — Pagans, I was going to say. 
 Besides, did not the Romans uniformly hum their dead ?" — 
 Certainly, from its limited extent, this could never have been 
 the general burying-place for all Pompeji, or even for the 
 twentieth part of its probable population. In my Innnble 
 opinion, therefore, this spot might rather have been destined 
 as a place of interment for some particular family ; or, what 
 I am still more inclined to believe, for such of the citizens as 
 by their actions or conduct were judged worthy of a public 
 funeral and monument ; for the ancients did not carry their 
 religious zeal so far as to make the temples of their gods a 
 receptacle for putrefaction; nor had they an idea, that the inhal- 
 ation of the pestilential effluvia by the congregation, and the 
 consequent injury to their bodily health, could be compensa- 
 ted by the spiritual edification dispensed to them at the same 
 time. They, in their simplicity, buried their dead along the 
 highway, as we do the worst of our criminals. I say buried ; 
 for the custom among the Romans of burning the dead, was, 
 I suspectj confined to the opulent : and as to the Greeks, who 
 constituted the greater part of the population of Pompeji, I 
 know of no instance of their burning their dead. — But let us 
 stop here ; for I perceive you are in a fair way of having a 
 dissertation of mine on the funeral ceremonies of the Romans, 
 which, if you have any wish at all to descend into minute par- 
 ticulars, you had much better acquaint yourself with, from 
 the writings of Lipsius or Montfaucon. As to this cemetery, 
 you no doubt, and very justly too, expect a detailed account 
 of its monuments and inscriptions, which, to my shame and 
 misfortune, I am not able to give you, harassed as I was by 
 the clamours of my companion, and overpowered as I felt by 
 
 the 
 
126 
 
 the heat, muffeta*, and want of food of any kind for many 
 hours. Under such circumstances, I hope I shall stand ex- 
 cused, if I briefly state, that, among the monuments, one at- 
 tracted my particular notice, being composed of a truncated 
 colunm raised on an elevated pedestal, both of common stone. 
 Of the same material was the wall which surrounded this yard. 
 Along its inner surface ran a Latin inscription, in letters of at 
 least a foot in length ; and below this inscription, as well as 
 parallel with it, extended a stone seat from one end of the 
 semicircle to the other, probably for the accommodation of 
 the cono:rei;ation to hear the funeral sermon. 
 
 On this form had friend Michele seated himself, when the 
 invalid, in his Neapolitan /7«fois, said, Mnio' andiani aVcasin 
 di Ceceronj-. This summons was a very thunderbolt to my 
 exhausted friend, who solemnly declared that he would not 
 stir another step, unless it were for an immediate return. 
 All the arts of rhetoric, all the most pressing entreaties were 
 in vain ; he would wait on this funeral bench till we came 
 back. Nor did he relent from this determination, till the 
 guide had told him that our return would not be through 
 this place, that there was a shorter cut, and that this said 
 villa would take us very little out of our road. This in- 
 formation of the veteran's met with more success than all 
 my persuasive arguments. Don Michele rose, grumbling 
 best part of the way, and nmttering pazzie'lt and other such 
 like courteous epithets in his beard, 
 
 The villa m as not near so far as we had imagined, for less 
 than five minutes' walk brought us to the spot. As Cicero is 
 known to have had a villa in this neighbourhood, it is not 
 impossible this inai/ have been his country-seat ; at all events, 
 
 a 
 
 * A name given to the noxious vapours which, more or less, are felt on this side of 
 Mount Vesuvius. 
 
 + Now let us go to Cicero's villa. J Mad uonscncp. 
 
127 
 
 a villa it certainly was. Before a small, but neat house, a 
 garden was laid out, in the middle of which a pond was sunk. 
 The empty receptacle of water was in good preservation ; 
 the stone borders of the compartments of the garden were 
 likewise plainly discernible. The statues, however, with 
 which, according to the guide's information, the whole was 
 found decorated at the first discovery, had of course been 
 removed to the king's museum ; but the remains of a cover- 
 ed walk around the garden were still to be seen. We defer- 
 red the nearer investigation of all these matters of curiosity 
 until we should have viewed the wine cellar, which we were 
 told was particularly worthy of notice, and which, for a won- 
 der, my friend seemed anxious to examine. However if his 
 anxiety proceeded from an expectation of tasting some fine 
 samples of choice wines, he must have felt considerable dis- 
 appointment at the sight of a number of empty earthen jars, 
 once perhaps the receptacles of exquisite Tuscan, Falernian, 
 ovChian, of which. Time, the destroyer of all things, has not 
 left a ^'^ wreck behind." Nay, here I am saying too much — a 
 wreck certainly there was ; for, at the bottom of some of the 
 jars, a residuary crust was left, resembling the coke of a 
 burnt resinous substance. This was evidently the caput 
 mortmim of the former grape juice ; and our chemical friend, 
 A. no doubt would have given the world for a specimen of 
 this carbonate ofidne, which he would not have failed to 
 subject to a most rigorous chemical analysis, in order to be 
 able to tell how many grains and thousandth parts, of tart- 
 trate, nitrate, sulphate, muriate, phosphate, borate, carbonate, 
 fluate, gelatine, saccharine, alumine, and God knows what 
 other ates or ines, it contained to a hair. Like St. Crispin, 
 therefore, who stole the leather in order to be able to pre- 
 sent the barefooted poor with shoes to their feet, I tried to 
 crib a little morsel of the vinous crust for the laboratory of 
 our curious friend ; but you may tell him, all my Spartan ef- 
 forts were absolutely fruitless ; the eyes of our Argus were 
 
 fixed 
 
128 
 
 tixed on the jars, as if they held as many ingots — bank-notes 
 I was going to say — as the vaults in Threadneedle-street are 
 supposed to contain. Yet, the intended theft might proba- 
 })ly iiave been consummated ; but, on a sudden, a hollow 
 rolling, resembling that of thunder, reverberated through 
 the curved ceiliuir of this dismal vault. The awful sound 
 seemed to operate on all our nerves : for my partj I own, the 
 unfortunate catastrophe of the poor Pompejans at once pre- 
 sented itself in the most horrid colours before my mind's eye. 
 I expected an instantaneous eruption of the neighbouring' 
 volcano, Pompeji overwhelmed a second time, and me with 
 it; to be excavated, perhaps, some thousand years hence; by 
 an excusable anachronism to be taken for a Roman skeleton, 
 and hung up, and handled by every curious miss, in the mu- 
 seum of one of our descendants. 
 
 While concatenating this gloomy train of ideas (which was 
 but the work of a moment), Don Michele had already saved 
 himself by a precipitate flight. We followed him, to gain 
 the light of day. As soon as we had cleared the dismal 
 vault and joined him, to our inexpressible joy, we ascertain- 
 ed the cause of our terror. It was real thunder we had heard, 
 not the rumbling of the mountain. A darkened portion of 
 the horizon protended an approaching storm ; no one had 
 any farther thoughts of examining the apartments of the 
 villa, its fishpond, 7)«?';e?Tes, and covered walks. Sauvequipeut 
 was the word ; and in less than a quarter of an hour, our 
 guide brought us through the ancient barrack-yard and the 
 lattice gate, to his lodge, where we found our caless ready to 
 receive us, and (accounts settled) drove, amidst flashes of 
 lightning and peals of thunder, ventre aterre towards Resina. 
 
 The thermometor of my friend's spirits which had sunk 
 to 0, began now to shew a disposition for rising : he grew 
 insensibly a little more atfable, and my hopes of seeing him'. 
 
 presently 
 
129 
 
 presently restored to good humour, were veiy sauguine. But 
 the elements were lea£:ued against us ! Hitherto the electric 
 conflict above our heads had been confined to a variety of 
 dry experiments of sparks and intonations, but now a few 
 scanty^ but broad drops^ by their heavy fall, effected a visible 
 change in the pattern of my neighbour's orange-purple silk 
 frock. The shower increased, and Don Michele, who seem- 
 ed perfectly aware of the danger to which his holiday suit 
 was exposed, begged me to stop the horse. — In an instant 
 his cocked beaver was whipt, with the utmost sangfroid, in- 
 to the seat, and replaced by a bandeau, skilfully formed with 
 his handkerchief, which unequivocally betrayed his attach- 
 ment to the narcotic comfort of Virginia dust ; with the same 
 celerity his upper garment was turned inside out, and a pleas- 
 ing contrast formed between the milky hue of the sleeves 
 and the purple bombazeen lining subtending the rest of the 
 habit. He was now, with my active assistance, a I'abri des 
 injures du temps, prepared for the worst ; 
 
 Impavidum nunc ferient imbres. Horace. (Mutat. Mutand.) 
 
 Thus transfigured, he sat down, and begged me, per I'amor 
 di Dio, to drive on quickly. But all the speed in the horse's 
 heels would not have saved us from a thorough drenching, 
 had we not soon found a house to get under shelter. 
 
 This was a manufacture of maccaroni, and the master and 
 man happened fortunately to be busily employed in prepar- 
 ing that delicious farinaceous food. I observed the whole 
 process attentively ; and as you are probably unacquainted 
 with the method of making it, shall give you a short account 
 of my observations. — The dough had already been mixed ; 
 but the manufacturer informed me, that it consisted of nothing 
 but the very finest flour and a small quantity of water ; no 
 eggs whatever, as he repeatedly assured me. The mode of 
 kneading, which I was a witness to, appeared to me singular. 
 A thick boom, of about eight feet in length, Mas so fastened 
 by one end, as to turn round horizontally, and also to be 
 
 s raised 
 
130 
 
 raised and depressed vertically ; under this boom the mass of 
 dough was placed, as large in bulk as the largest of our Che- 
 shire cheeses ; the two men then leaned with all their weight 
 on the other end of the boom, which they pressed down and 
 suffered to rise alternately; and, while doing this, they car- 
 ried the boom almost through a whole semicircle forwards, 
 and then again backwards, round its center. By this opera- 
 tion of so powerful a lever, the dough, although extremely 
 stiff and stubborn, became well worked and fit for the next 
 process, that of giving it the form under which it is sold. 
 
 This was done by a large press, like one of our cyder-pres- 
 ses, with a cavity of about a foot in the solid, into which a 
 portion of the dough was placed. At the bottom of this cavity 
 a metal plate was fixed with small round holes, of the diame- 
 ter of the tube of an earthen tobacco-pipe. Another lever 
 being inserted into the screw of the press, the dough was 
 forced through the little apertures in the plate, and came out 
 in a number of long filaments. These, when they had got to 
 the length of about two feet, were quickly cut off by one of 
 the men, and suspended in the air to dry. This operation was 
 successively repeated until the quantum of dough in the press 
 w as nearly exhausted ; when a fresh supply was added, and 
 the process begun anew. — In this expeditious manner an in- 
 credible quantity of maccaroni was manufactured during the 
 short time of about twenty minutes that we staid in the 
 place ; enough certainly to afford a meal for upwards of 
 three hundred people. 
 
 I have been thus particular in my description, because I 
 think maccaroni a very desirable article of common food, 
 both on account of its cheapness and its wholesome nature ; 
 and therefore could wish it to be generally introduced in 
 England. A small quantity of fat meat is sufficient to make 
 a broth or gravy, with which the maccaroni may be dressed ; 
 
 but 
 
 I 
 
131 
 
 but without any meat, simply boiled in water, drained, and 
 some hot butter poured over it, it forms a relishing dish. 
 The common people in Italy prepare it in this simple way. 
 As it keeps good for any length of time, it is well calculated 
 for long sea voyages ; and, I should think, would answer well 
 in our navy. I have seen some of our sailors eat maccaroni 
 as heartily as any Neapolitan, and make no doubt they would 
 be glad to have it once a week at least. Having thus let you 
 into the mystery of maccaroni-making, it will but be fair to 
 let your humble servant go shares, should you be able to get a 
 maccaroni -con tract from the Victualling Board, or the king's 
 patent for home consumption. We can Centre nous soil (lit) 
 afford it for four-pence the pound, while your Italian oil- 
 shops sell it for eighteen -pence and two-shillings ! ! 
 
 Diu'ing the time I gathered all this valuable information, 
 Don Michele w as busily employed in wiping and drying his 
 best suit, and making himself decent. In this laudable effort 
 he had succeeded before the rain was over ; we therefore 
 once more mounted our vehicle, and quickly arrived at Re- 
 sina, where I had determined to dine. On mentioning this 
 resolve to Don Michele, he replied with a smiling self-suffi- 
 ciency, Lasciafara me*. Indeed in matters of catering he 
 appeared much more at home than among the ruins of Pom- 
 peji. His local knowledge brought us to an inn, the rustic 
 appearance of whose exterior, interior, and master, promised 
 no sumptuous entertainment. The padrone delta casa forth- 
 with made his appearance en neglige, i. e. in a nightcap and 
 calico jacket; and having understood our present wants, dis- 
 appeared with the confidential assurance of Avi^a un bon 
 pranzo in un mezzo MOMENTof . Leaving to better mathe- 
 maticians the computation of the precise portion of time 
 meant by half a moment (which in this instance amounted 
 
 to 
 
 * Leave me alone for that. + You.ll have a good dinner in half a moment, 
 
 s 2 
 
133 
 
 to rather more than nineteen minutes and a half), I can only 
 say, that our patience was put to no great trial. The bon 
 pranzo (upon which many an Englishman might have starved) 
 consisted of a tolerable vermicelli soup, a pork fry, a dish of 
 delicate little fish, unluckily fried in oil, and a good salad. 
 To us, however, all was manna in the desert. Don Michele, 
 in particular, fell to with such energy and rapidity, that, be- 
 fore I had dispatched four or five of the tender pisciculi, my 
 friend had emptied the dish altogether. The little animals 
 glided down his fauces^ unmasticated, much more quickly 
 than 1 remember having seen them shoot through the trans- 
 parent windings of their native rivulet. Fortunately the 
 padrone was prepared for a second edition which was pub- 
 lished immediately. To dine at the very foot of Vesuvius, 
 and not drink Lachrime Christ i, would have been worse than 
 being at Rome and not seeing St. Peter's. On calling for 
 that wine, our host asked, Bulite roha buona* ? which of 
 course was answered in the affirmative. The Neapolitans, 
 you must know, like a certain religious sect in England, 
 rarely give you a direct answer to a question put to them : 
 their reply generally consists in a new question, which i/ou 
 are to answer, thereby gaining an advantage over you. This, 
 en passant, is not a bad device, and may with great profit be 
 adopted in all cases, at least, where you are puzzled for an 
 answer. But to return to the Lachrime Christl. That of our 
 host's was so delicious, that, in spite of my physician's injunc- 
 tions, the second bottle soon became a desideratum, and my 
 friend now grew more jovial than ever 1 saw him, and per- 
 haps than ever he had been in his life. He would give a 
 specimen of his voice, and favoured the host and your hum- 
 ble servant with the pretty air, *' Sul margine d'un rio." To 
 do him justice in this vocal attempt, he would probably have 
 succeeded to admiration, had he not taken some unwarrant- 
 able liberties with the sharps and flats ; one of which he 
 
 would 
 
 • Would jou have capital stutt" ? 
 
133 
 
 would substitute for the other so frequently, that at the end 
 of his cantata, he was not only a full fifth lower than when 
 he began, but it was also impossible to guess whether the 
 melody was in a minor or major key : as to time, the whole 
 was given, ad libitum, without any servile adherence to bars 
 or stops. On being pressed, in my turn, to sing an EngHsh 
 air, I first begged my friend to stand up, and mine host to 
 pull offhis night-cap, and then began '' God save the King,'* 
 with the utmost glee of loyalty and patriotism ; feelings ex- 
 cited the more powerfully, in proportion to the distance 
 which separates us from a beloved country and sovereign. 
 
 Believe me, dear T. that no effort was spared on this oc- 
 casion, to give my companion, as well as the landlord, a 
 favourable idea of British harmonics; nay, I am sure, I ne- 
 ver sung better in my life ; yet this abominable Zoilus of 
 modern times, this vile Don Snarl, had the impudence to 
 observe, that however praiseworthy my execution, the Eng- 
 lish language appeared to him so harsh, as to be totally unfit 
 for music. It was to no purpose to meet his criticism with 
 the names of a Mrs. B. and Mr. B. He coolly said he had 
 heard of both, but he very well knew the former to be of 
 German extraction ; and the latter to belong to a nation, 
 whose kings were virtuosos before England was even dis- 
 covered. 
 
 Willi such a suliject, it would require angelic patience to 
 pursue an argument ; the less you say, therefore, the better. 
 To cut the matter short, I demanded my bill, or, rather, 
 the sum total of our entertainment ; for bills of particulars 
 are generally deemed here an unnecessary w aste of time and 
 paper. To my great sui-prise, our whole reckoning, in- 
 cluding the two bottles of excellent wine, amounted to thir- 
 teen carlins and five grani (about 4s. lOd.) : and this, Don 
 INfichele, who 1 believe would find fault (and not without 
 
 cause) 
 
134 
 
 cause) with his mother for bringing him into the world, 
 thought exorbitant. It was dusk before we got into our gig- 
 again. A lieavenly evening had succeeded the storm and 
 shower; the latter had, as our friend A. would say, preci- 
 pitated every azotic impurity in the atmosphere, and im- 
 parted to it a fresh supply of oxygen ; a luxuriant vernal 
 vegetation exhaled its perfumes more freely — it was a treat 
 to breathe! A brilliant moon assisted to conduct us safely 
 and pleasantly, through Portici, to the Castel del Carmine: 
 skirting along the old walls of the city, we entered it by the 
 Capuan gate, drove through Strada di Carbonara, passed 
 the Largo delle pigne and the Regii Studii, up the hill to 
 our head -quarters on the Infrescata. 
 
 Jam opus exegi ! I have fulfilled, at last, your wish and 
 my promise to give you a '' full and particular account" 
 of the remains of the interesting Pompeji. As full at least 
 as the impaired, but, thank God, improving health of your 
 friend would permit him to do. If it is beyond the reach of 
 healthy mortals to furnish any thing perfect, how much 
 greater is my claim on your indulgence, when you learn, 
 that, amidst the very ruins of Pompeji, 1 had to swallow 
 two different recipes : 
 
 R. Ferrug : martis 5SS. and 
 
 R. Infusi gentian : ^j. 
 Tinct. Peruv : ^ij. 
 
 Fiat haustus in amphitheatro 
 Pompeji sumendus. 
 
 Ever vour's. 
 
135 
 
 LETTER IX. 
 
 Naples, May—, 1802. 
 
 My dear T. 
 
 ALTHOUGH it is but a few days since I had the 
 pleasure of writing you a most ponderous treatise, yet I 
 cannot resist the opportunity afforded me by Major N. who 
 returns to England by the way of France, to send you a few 
 lines. The short notice I had of his departure, which takes 
 place to-morrow, leaves me no time to pen one of my tedi- 
 ous, digested, and systematic epistles ; a circumstance which 
 1 regret the less, as I want, and really conceive myself en- 
 titled to, a little desultory chat with you, by way of relax- 
 ation from the fatigue my Pompejan narrative has caused 
 me. You are, however, by no means to consider the latter 
 subject as dismissed and exhausted. At someotlier time, and 
 ere long probably, I shall endeavour to give you a descrip- 
 tion of some of the statues, paintings, other works of art, 
 domestic utensils, manuscript papyri, &c. discovered in the 
 subterraneous towns, and preserved in the museum at Portici. 
 Of Herculaneum, likewise, it is my intention to say some- 
 thing hereafter. All in proper time ! Now a few words on 
 the public amusements of this city. 
 
 In Naples, as in every capital, dramatic performances 
 take the lead in this chapter. At this season of the year, only 
 two great theatres are generally open, the Teatro Nuovo 
 and the Teatro del Fiorentini ; and to those my visits have 
 not been frequent, their distance from my quarters counter- 
 balancing, in a great measure, the pleasure to be derived 
 from the representations ; although I have generally my horse 
 brought to the door to ride home. But even this is in many 
 
 respects 
 
136 
 
 respects inconvenient. In these theatres different com- 
 panies perform operas, and sometimes plays in prose. The 
 latter I have, for the sake of the lan^^uage, attended more 
 freqnently than the operas ; but I certainly have had no rea- 
 son to alter the opinion on the prosaic dramas of Italy, 
 which even better pieces and performers at Florence and Lei^- 
 horn had impressed me with. Most of the plays I haveseen, 
 were translations or adaptations from German and French 
 works ; and the few pieces of original Italian growth were 
 full of improbabilities in the plot, and of commonplace sen- 
 timental declamation. A generous prince, deluded by some 
 crafty and wicked minister, and finally undeceived, seems to 
 be a very favourite topic among their authors. Sentimen- 
 tal cant, also, appears to be the rage of the writers of the day 
 in this part of the world : but here it is least at home ; for a 
 sentimental Italian, and above all a sentimental Neapolitan,, 
 is an absolute nondescript; and you that know my senti- 
 ments on sentimentality, will not think this observation of 
 mine intended as a stigma on the Italian character, which, in 
 spite of what has been said and echoed on the subject, I shall 
 at all times be ready to defend against the commonplace as- 
 persions of biassed, superficial, or malicious observers. As 
 to performers, especially of the serious cast, I have not yet 
 seen or heard of any whose talents had raised him above the 
 level of a common player. Some of course are better than 
 others ; but none to my knowledge, have arrived at such 
 distinguished eminence and fame in their profession, as 
 Kemble, Talma, Ifiiand, &c. This unfavourable criticism 
 of mine particularly applies to the serious aud tragic actors. 
 In comedy the Italian is more at home ; some comic actors 
 I have seen, are at least equal to our best. By comic actors 
 I do not absolutely mean buffoons : it is rather the chaste 
 and judicious representative of a truly comic character I al- 
 lude to ; whose judgement tells him where to draw the line, 
 so as not to descend into low farce, or overcharged buftbon- 
 
 erv. 
 
131 
 
 iivy, who possesses taste and independence enougli not to 
 adapt his performance to the applause of the vulgar. In this 
 walk of the drama, Italy can produce first-rate performers, 
 and if the talents of those have not been crowned with uni- 
 versal fame and estimation, it is perhaps as much owing- to 
 the disrepute attached in this country to the profession in 
 ji-eneral, as to a misconceived inferiority in which the comic 
 actor is uiiiversally held, in comparison with the serious 
 performer. However, in the latter line even, an exception 
 mii>ht be made in favour of the Italian females. The women 
 i>enerally acquitted themselves better of a tragic part than 
 the men, with infinitely more truth and feeling; and this I 
 would fain ascribe to the superior degree of sensibility w ith 
 which the fair sex of all countries appear to be endowed. 
 But really it must be a pleasure to act before an Italian au- 
 dience : the greatest silence and decorum reigns through 
 the whole house, no brutal pushing or crowding, no savage 
 vociferations from the lower orders. But for an occasional 
 '' bravo," or now and then a slight whistle at some obnoxi- 
 ous piece of acting or expression, the audience might be 
 compared to a congregation in a church. My station, 
 when alone, is usually in the pit, where it is the spectator'^ 
 own fault, if he is not at all times accommodated w ith a com- 
 fortable place ; for every seat in the pit is a separate pew, 
 which may be engaged inthe morning, and which, once so se- 
 cured, remains locked until the owner's arrival, let him come 
 soon or late. The pew-opener then unlocks the seat, and 
 moreover supplies you with a well-stuffed leather cushion, 
 for which favour a donation of a mere trifle is thankfully re- 
 ceived. This commendable arrangement contributes not a 
 little to the order and decorum observed in the pit. 
 
 The music between the acts is so indifferent, that it would 
 be doing it a service to say nothing about it, were it not foi; 
 a most economical practice which I had frequent opportu- 
 
 T nities 
 
13S 
 
 liities of witnessing-. The professors find their oun lii;ht, 
 should the internal light of memory not enable them to play 
 their parts in tlie dark. Those therefore who labour under 
 tliat mental disadvantage, bring a slender wax taper in their 
 pockets, to light their path through the labyrinth of minims, 
 crotchets, and quavers. But no sooner does the curtain rise 
 again that — phtt! ! out goes the taper by an adroit blow, a 
 few additional whiffs congeal the liquid wax round the wick, 
 to enable the owner to deposit his property, Avithout injury 
 to his pocket ; for to leave the candle on the desk, might be 
 a temptation to his professional neighbour. The Dutch 
 themselves, I wager, have not carried economy so far. 
 
 Thus much of the prosaic di'ama of Naples. As to the 
 opera, it is needless to go into any detail ; it is exactly simi- 
 lar to all Italian operas, and to our establishment at the 
 King's Theatre in London ; except the orchestra, which is 
 not near so good and numerous as ours* . But the scenery, 
 of the new^ pieces in particular, is beautiful. This excel- 
 lency, in my opinion, arises from a perfect observance of 
 the rules of perspective, as well as from a skilful disposition 
 of light and shade. The latter merit is peculiar to Italian 
 artists, and may perhaps be attributed to a natural cause ; 
 the brilliancy of the sun's rays through the serene medium 
 of an Italian atmosphere, by which every projecting object 
 may naturally be supposed to receive a greater degree of 
 light, and to cast a stronger and more marked shadow than 
 is the case among aur cloudy skies and insular fogs. The 
 perspective of the back scenes here seldom fronts the pit, so 
 as to be in the direction of a perpendicular with the prosce- 
 nium ; it generally merges into an acute angle towards the 
 right or left : and it is surprising, how much the optic de- 
 ception 
 
 * The theatre of St. Carlo, which had not opened yet at the date of this letter, fornw 
 an exccj)tion to this observation. 
 
ISO 
 
 ccptlon is assisted by this contrivance. Of tlie performers, 
 Casaciello is deservedly ranked among- the hrst buifos in 
 Italy ; a mere grimace of his is sufficient to call into action 
 
 the risible nerves of the whole house. Sigrnora 
 
 alsOj as prima donna buffa^ possesses great comic talents^ 
 which are much enhanced by an ever-smiling flow of spirits 
 and a beautiful face. These rare gifts of nature have ac- 
 quired her^ besides the protection of a wealthy German 
 merchant^ a number of additional successful admirers. 
 
 The famous theatre of St. Carlo, the Colosseum of modern 
 times^ is still shut, but will shortly open with a great serious 
 opera, composed by Guglielmi. I hope it will happen be- 
 fore my departure, in which case you may depend upon re- 
 ceiving my observations on this immense structure, as well 
 as on the performance, 
 
 On the Largo del Castello, there is a small theatre for 
 broad farces in the Neapolitan dialect, which, to a Tuscan, 
 is nearly as unintelligible as the Welch to an Englishman. 
 From my first visit, therefore, I derived little entertainment : 
 since that, however, I have made myself more familiar with 
 that idiom, and twice devoted an hour to the whims and 
 drolleries of Pulcinello, at which I laughed very heartily. 
 The audience, it is true, is none of the genteelest, but as 
 long as priests go, I need not be ashamed of the company. 
 
 The Thuilleries, as a place of public resort, claim a place 
 in the chapter of public amusements. The Neapolitans do 
 not appear to be very partial to pedestrian exercise ; on the 
 contrary, to go on foot for pleasure is considered degrading. 
 Hence the immense procession of motley vehicles to ])e seen 
 every Sunday afternoon on the shore of Chiaja. This suburb 
 of Naples, extending along the bay towards the Grotta di 
 Posilipo, is justly deemed the most elegant and fashional)le 
 
 T 2 part 
 
140 
 
 part of the town. On one side of a broad and open tract of 
 beach_, a niai;'nilicent row of houses overlooks the whole 
 ^nlph. Here the air in summer is refreslied by coolino- soa- 
 breczcs, and in winter tempered by the reflection of the 
 sun from the over-topping- mountains, which at the same 
 time afford a complete shelter fi*om the north and north-east 
 winds. The most delightful gardens, abounding with orange 
 and lemon trees, cover the hills ; on every side mmierons 
 and eleg'ant pleasure-houses rear their front lietween an ever- 
 verdant foliage. Here and there the classic pine, with its 
 tufted top, or the majestic cedar with its upright stem and 
 sombre leaves, add to the beauty and variety of the scene. 
 On this charming spot, the present king has laid out the 
 public w alks, whichgo under the nameof Thuillcries. They 
 consist of several parallel avenues of trees, like our mall in 
 St. James's Park, but not so rich in shade and foliage ; 
 running fountains are disposed in different parts, and small 
 pavilions invite the weary to rest. Isnt ahat, next to its con- 
 tiguity to the sea, and the delightful prospect over tlie bay 
 as well as the adjoining hills, renders this walk unique in its 
 kind, is the embcllislnnent it has of late received from several 
 ex(piisite antique statues of the finest white marble, taken 
 out of the rich Farnesian collection, which the king, not long- 
 ago, inherited at llie extinction of the family of Farnese, 
 and which, being conveved to Naples, is now deposited in 
 tlie museum called Rcgii Stiidii. But to return to the Thuil- 
 lcries, and hs statues: Yon Mill be surprised to hear that in 
 the center of the walk stands tlie celebrated group of the 
 Toro Fanicsc, tlie design of which is in your collection. 
 This, in my opinion, is the very finest gronp of ancient art, 
 and superior even to the Laocoon. Placed on an elegant 
 and lofty |)edestal, it is seeh to the greatest advantage, and 
 ihe soft hue of its cream-coloured marble is fineh relieved 
 by the contrast of verdure which surrounds it. However 
 praiseworthy the liberality of the monarch in devoting sucli 
 
 troitsures 
 
141 
 
 treasures to the public amusement, yet it is gTeatly to be 
 feared, that their exposure to the injuries of the weather, 
 and, above all, to the saline and corroding eflects of the sea 
 air, will in time destroy much of their inimitable beauty. As 
 yet they are uninjured! This certainly is the only dano-er 
 they are exposed to in this country, where no !)rutal Van- 
 dalism takes delight in defacing or mutilating public monu- 
 ments, as is the case in some other parts of Europe. On 
 the contrary, the half-naked Lazzarone even points w ith na- 
 tional pride at objects whicli add lustre to hiscoimtry. 
 
 The Thuilleries have brought walking a Ulile more in 
 vogue. On Sundays in particular, you meet there with pe- 
 destrians of all ranks. Even the hcau monde will, let them 
 live ever so near, condescend to come in their carriages to 
 the gates, and take a turn on foot. The Paphian corps 
 consider this as their place d 'armeSy but their demonstrations 
 and evolutions are so strictly confined within the bounds of 
 decorum, that nothing but dress, and often not even that, 
 can distinguish them from the rest of the company. Upon 
 the whole, you do not here meet with the same quantum of 
 beauty, in the aggregate, as in Kensington Gardens; nor 
 altogether with the same elegant neatness of dress, the va- 
 rious manufactures of white muslin, &c. by which the British 
 lair know so well how to set oft' their charms ; on the other 
 hand, I am bound to say, that among' the more limited 
 number of Neapolitan beauties, I have seen some, whose 
 fine Grecian features, pearly teeth, and sparkling- Junonian 
 eyes, would probably secure them the award in a contest 
 with their rivals of any part of the globe. But as I am 
 little qualified to act the Paridian umpire (non nostrum 
 tantas componere lites), I must beg leave to pass to other 
 matters, lest on my return to the country of beauty, I be ar- 
 raigned before a jury of matrons of the cnmcn Icesrr majesfa- 
 tis, and by their verdict outlawed a mensd ac ihoro ; or like 
 
 poor 
 
142 
 
 poor Orpheus, persecuted by their unrelenting anger to the 
 furthermost limits of the Caledonian deserts. 
 
 The ice-cellars may be numbered among the places of 
 public gratification in Naples. In a climate like this, ice is 
 almost considered as a necessary of lifC;, and the skill of the 
 Neapolitans in the preparation of this luxurious refreshment, 
 is above all comparison. The treat begins at sunset, when 
 rich as well as poor crowd to allay their excess of caloric by 
 one or more doses of frigoric. — 1 beg pardon for this new 
 term. Sliould our chemical friend A. disapprove of this 
 piece of nomenclature, he is perfectly at liberty to substi- 
 tute another, secundum aricm. — The wealthy have the ice 
 handed to their carriages: but they are not contented with 
 the specimen oi one manufacture ; they will frequently make 
 the round of every principal shop, thus giving encourage- 
 ment to the whole of the trade at the same time. You may 
 have every species of fruit ; pine-apples, apricots, peaches, &c. 
 in their natural shape, colour, and flavour, entirely made of 
 ice; a circumstance which was unknown to an honest tar, 
 who had been at Naples in those golden times when the 
 hospitable board of Sir W. H. was open to every Englishman, 
 and when the pleasures of the table were enhanced by the wit 
 and beauty of the English Aspasia. At the desert, the ser- 
 vant presented some of those artificial peaches to the son of 
 Neptune, who hoisted the whole '' contents unknown" into 
 his eager mouth. The sudden shock which this mass of ice 
 imparted to his teeth, gums, fauces, and to his whole frame, 
 may easily be conceived ; but not so the rage which this 
 supposed trick caused in his breast. Indignantly he flung 
 
 the half-dissolved peach back into the varlet's face, d g 
 
 him and his '' snowballs," and swearing, that if ever he came 
 on board his ship, he would give him such abiding as would 
 cool his courage, and make him remember the time he made 
 a fool of him. The subsequent eclair cissement and final re- 
 conciliation, need not be detailed. 
 
 The 
 
143 
 
 The beach of Santa Lucia presents another source of en- 
 joyment to the Neapolian bons-vivants. Oysters, dattoli *, 
 and various other shellfish are brought thither for sale, and 
 usually eaten on the spot. Small tables and benches are 
 ready every evening to accommodate the epicurean visitor 
 of the less opulent class; but the more wealthy have the 
 delicious morsel brought to their carriage. While some 
 amateurs were regaling themselves around one of these ta- 
 bles, a wag contrived secretly to connect, by a stout string, 
 the leg of the table to a carriage that happened to stand by. 
 Of course, as soon as the latter started, the table, not less 
 obsequiously than rapidly, followed the vehicle which had 
 taken it in tow, to the no small amazement of the disap- 
 pointed guests. This from hearsay : se non e vero, e ben 
 trovato. 
 
 My chapter of amusements ought to include likewise a brief 
 notice of the Neapolitan conversazioni. The obligation, how- 
 ever, I am under to keep good hours, and the distance at which 
 I live from the center of the town, have hitherto been in the 
 way of my attending more than two of these assemblies, al- 
 though! have had invitations to many. To me they afforded 
 no entertainment. They are sin^iilar to our London routs, 
 less ceremonious but also less elegant and hospitable. Re- 
 freshment, it is true, is amply dispensed, but it consists of 
 — mere water. Gaming, or rather gambling, is an essential 
 part in these fashionable meetings, and vast sums are lost 
 and won at games of hazard, in which the ladies appear to 
 me at least as great adepts as the gentlemen. Sometimes 
 there is a dance for the young folks. After a bow to the 
 masters of the house, you are under no restraint; you look 
 for your own friends, chat, play, or do as you please. And 
 
 once 
 
 * A shellfish resembling dales in shape, of exquisite flavour. 
 
144 
 
 once introduced^ you are, without further invitation, wel- 
 come to frequent the conversazioni of the house as often as 
 you find it convenient. The liours, however, are hitoler- 
 abiy hite. 
 
 Private musical parties are veiy frequent, and at them 
 you often meet with amateurs, particuhu'ly vocal, of the first- 
 rate abilities. But public concerts, where you pay for ad- 
 mission, are very scarce. The Neapolitans have so much 
 good music in their theatres and churches, that they would 
 be loth to be at any expence to procure more. Of pidjlic 
 balls and masquerades, likewise, I have hitherto seen or 
 heard nothing-. How it may be in winter, I do not know. 
 
 Thus much, my dear T. for the entertainments of this 
 great city. My stay has as yet been too short to enable me to 
 exhaust this chapter. Should, in the sequel, any addenda 
 present themselves, opportunities will occur +o fill up omis- 
 sions. Adieu ! 
 
 * * * * 
 
 LETTER X. 
 
 Naples, , 1803. 
 
 My dear T. 
 
 ]MY hol)by, the antiquarian Pegasus, once more 
 
 saddled and bridled, I soar into the subterpaneous and 
 
 gloomy cells and windings of Herculaneum. None of your 
 compassionate smiles, pray ! There is no Erinism in the ex- 
 pression at all, at all. To soar downwards, according to 
 Martinus Scriblerus, is one of the most essential requisites 
 of the true bathos, indeed perhaps the most difficult ; for, 
 without great care, and holding a very tight bridle, you 
 plunge over head and heels, with accelerated centripetality, 
 into a bottomless gulph, never to rise again. You see what 
 
 an 
 
145 
 
 an unpleasant task I am venturing upon for your sake. Ah! 
 and what a difficult one, when you consider that I am going 
 to give you an exact and particular account of a place which 
 
 1 have not seen. For surely no extraordinary share of 
 
 .skill is necessary to detail what one has examined one's self ; 
 but to describe objects which one has not seen, to descant 
 upon their beauties or defects ; in short, to convey to others 
 correct ideas of things of which we ourselves have but confu- 
 sed notions, or no notion at all— is, you will ow^n, the most 
 difficult branch of the science of travelling. No doubt a man 
 may, in such a praiseworthy undertaking, availhimself of the 
 information and labour of others as of his own, quod quisper 
 aliumfacit, id ipse fecisse putatur . But this, although per- 
 fectly lawful, is the most unimportant part of your task : the 
 dry matter of fact, gleaned from the records of others, is to be 
 embellished by fanciful emanations of the traveller's own 
 manufacture. And here is the rub. It requires, I may say, 
 the genius of a poet, to form, by the help of mere imagina- 
 tion, a pleasing and instructive narrative of, as it were, 
 your own creation. The more of your own the better, viati- 
 cal licence is as unfettered as poetical ; for although tricks 
 upon travellers are proverbially odious, tricksy) om travellers 
 have by usage become legal. 
 
 Now, sensible as I am, that in the casual conglomeration 
 of the innumerable millions of atoms which most lovingly 
 ilocked together to form my self, it w^asmy misfortune, that 
 not one poetical atom should have chanced or chosen to cling 
 if) the numerous mathematical, musical, and other particles 
 of the mass which constitutes the pulp of my brain ; some 
 cotemporary great poet being probably, at that very instant 
 of time, forming in my vicinity, in whose construction every 
 poetical atom, within reasonable reach, was engrossed and 
 absorbed, — it so happens that I am left miserably destitute 
 of the most essential qualification of a writer of travels. I, 
 
 u there- 
 
146 
 
 therefore^ am at this moment under the dire necessity of de- 
 pending entirely on the dry relation of othei*s, if I Avish to 
 give you any account of the pi'tsent aspect of Herculaneum. 
 And to o'ive you none, would be equally, if not more, incou' 
 veiiient. Not only would you be displeased at the omission, 
 but should, which nobody knows, typographical honours 
 stand decreed in the book of fate to these letters of mine, the 
 gentle reader, as well as the ungentle reviewer that is to be, 
 would not easily pardon so important an hiatus. 
 
 But 1 hear you exclaim, why not go thither yourself? Is 
 this Herculanean trip such an Herculean labour ? — Not 
 that, my dear T. ; although the journey is by no means in- 
 viting. The interdict of my physician, under pain of being 
 excommunicated from the fostering care of the faculty, was 
 the sole cause of my staying above ground. '' If," ex- 
 claimed the stern Dr " you go do-jon to Herculaneum, 
 
 or up to Mount Vesuvius, I have done with you ; not a 
 phial, nay, not a pill, of my writing, shall go down your 
 throat." — So you plainly perceive I am forcibly stuck be- 
 tween heaven and earth — medium teneo heatus. With the 
 medical injunction on one side therefore, and the knowledge 
 of the trifling value of the objects to be seen, on the other, 
 you will easily account for my ready obedience. Perhaps,, 
 I own, had the fair Donna Giuliana, of icy memory, been the 
 price of the pilgrimage, I should have felt as much eager- 
 ness as Orpheus or Hercules, who scrupled not to descend to 
 regions even more gloomy, to rescue their Eurydice's or 
 Alceste's. But ad rem: 
 
 It was fortunate for me, in a dilenmna like this, to have 
 met at Mr. W.'s an officer of our engineers, who, in company 
 with some of his military friends from Malta, had that very 
 morning performed, with great trouble and little satisfaction, 
 that subterraneous journey, and who was obliging enough to 
 put to paper the following observations. " As 
 
147 
 
 '^ As soon as we arrived at Portici, we procured a cicerone, 
 whose language was scarcely intelligible to any of us. He 
 provided himself and each of us with a torch, and conducted 
 us down a vast number of steps to a sort of cavern, which he 
 called the theatre of Herculaneum, but which might just as 
 well have passed for the lions' den of Daniel. He pointed 
 to the top of what he called the wall of the theatre, observing 
 that there had stood a beautiful group of bronze horses, one 
 of which he assured us was still preserved in the museum of 
 Portici. The next object which he pretended to see very 
 plainly, and of which we had not the grace to see a tittle, 
 was the forum, or public square of the town. There he cal- 
 led our attention to a painted inscription on the wall, which 
 he could decypher with the greatest ease, although every one 
 but myself was unable to perceive even a trace of it. I was 
 more fortunate, for I think I could distinguish halfa P. Here 
 we heard a violent hollow rumbling, like thunder, over our 
 heads, which all of us took for the noise of the volcano, not 
 a little terrified lest we should be buried alive in such a place 
 of horror ; but the good man declared, it was nothing but the 
 rolling of carriages in the tov/n of Portici right over us. The 
 cicerone now conducted us through some dismal narrow pas- 
 sages, for all the world like the mines of a fortress, or the 
 galleries cut into the rock of Gibraltar, calling every thing by 
 a variety of names, which I do not now remember. His tem- 
 ples and country seats were to us chateaux en Espagne, for 
 nothing could we see of them, Perceiving that all the beau- 
 ties of th^ place were situated in the good man's imagination, 
 we made bold to ask him, whether all that was still to be seen 
 was of the same stamp ; and on his reply in the affirmative, 
 it was determined, after a short council of war, to commence 
 a retreat towards daylight. We remunerated his trouble with 
 two Spanish dollars, for which he called us Galant uomini 
 Inglesi, and requested our excellencies would recommend his 
 Ciceronian abilities to such of our countrymen as had a mind 
 
 V 2 to 
 
148 
 
 to make as great fools of themselves as we had been In going 
 antiquity-hunting among caverns and passages of Egyptian 
 darkness." 
 
 Whatever may be said of this very succinct, supci'ficial, 
 and no doubt to you unsatisfactory ;;roces verbal of my officer^ 
 it certainly is not liable to the reproach of exaggeration. On 
 the contrary, I suspect he saw much less than he might and 
 ought to have seen ; but^ as is too often the case^ his expec- 
 tations had been overstretched, and the consequent disap- 
 pointment made him slight every thing. Had I been down, 
 I should have seen enough I promise you ; perhaps even more 
 than really is there, although it is a lamentable fact, that 
 thirty years ago the subterraneous condition of Herculaneum 
 was much more interesting and worthy the traveller's notice, 
 than it is at present. The object of its excavation having 
 unfortunately been confined to the discovery of statues, paint- 
 ings, and other curiosities, and not carried on w ith a view to 
 lay open the town, ascertain the features of its buildings and 
 streets, — most of the latter w^ere again filled up with rubbish 
 as soon as they were gutted of every thing moveable, nay, 
 unmoveable even ; for the marble was torn from the very 
 walls of the temples. Herculaneum therefore may be said to 
 have been overwhelmed a second time by its modern discove- 
 rers, and the appearance it presented previously, can now 
 only be «scertaincd from the accounts of those who saw it in 
 a more perfect state. According to those, it must at that 
 time have afforded a truly interesting sight. 
 
 The theatre was one of the most perfect specimens of an- 
 cient architecture. It had, from the floor upwards, eighteen 
 rows of seats, and above those, three more rows, which, being 
 covered by a portico, were probably intended for the ladies, 
 to screen them from the rays of the sun ; a precaution by no 
 means unnecessary, for if the Herculanean fair sex were not 
 
 fairer 
 
149 
 
 fairer than their descendants in Portici, it required but a tri-r 
 fling' exposure to the action of the sun, to make mulattoes 
 of them all. Indeed, my dear T. I have good reason to be- 
 lieve, that the Roman ladies had very little to boast of in 
 point of complexion. Friend Virgil has let the cat out of 
 the bag. When he speaks of the queen of Love, he enu- 
 merates among' her beauties — a red neck ! 
 
 " Rosea cervice refulxit." 
 
 You and I like it lily white, but de gustibus non est dispu- 
 tandum. It is not unlikely, too, that the Matrons of Rome 
 were conscious of their opacity of teint, and for that reason 
 preferred having their likeness executed by the sculptor 
 rather than the painter. A marble or bronze bust could tell,, 
 no tales about complexion. 
 
 This portico in the Herculanean theatre, therefore, was no 
 doubt intended to preserve what complexion the ladies might 
 have to boast of; since in a public theatre they could not be 
 pillowed the use of their parasols ; and poke-bonnets, by all 
 accounts, were not then in fashion, as in our days ; where 
 with that portable portico over her head, a lady may defy, 
 not only the sun or rain, but even the prying lorgnette of a 
 lounging beau. 
 
 To return to my subject (and high time it is!) I shall only 
 add, that this theatre was capable of holding between three 
 and four thousand people : nearly the whole of its surface, 
 even the arched walks which led to the seats, were cased 
 with marble ; the pit, if I may improperly call it so, was 
 floored with thick squares of giallo antico* ; and on the top 
 o^ the building stood, as was before observed, the group of 
 four bronze horses, drawing a car, with a charioteer, all of 
 
 exquisite 
 
 • A beautiful and Ecsrce kind of marble, of a yellowish hue. 
 
150 
 
 exquisite workmanship. Their pedestal of white marljle is 
 still to be seen in its place, but the group itself had been 
 crushed and broken to pieces by the immense weight of lava 
 which fell upon it. As, however, all the fragments were col- 
 lected, they might easily have been put together again ; instead 
 of which the whole was carelessly thrown into a corner, some 
 of it stolen, and another portion converted into busts of the 
 king and queen ; until, rather late in the day, it was resolved 
 to endeavour to make the best and only proper use of what 
 remained, that is to say, to make one horse out of the four, 
 by taking a fore leg of one, a hind leg of another, the head 
 of a third, &c. and where there was an irremediable 
 breach, to cast a new piece. To this contrivance the bronze 
 horse in the yard of the museum at Portici,owes its existence ; 
 and, considering its patch-work origin, it still conveys a high 
 idea of the skill of the ancient artist. 
 
 In the forum, which was contiguous to the theatre, besides 
 a number of inscriptions, columns, &c. there were found 
 the two beautiful equestrian statues, in white marble, of the 
 two Balbi, which are preserved in the hall of the left wing 
 of the palace at Portici. 
 
 Adjoining to the forum stood the temple of Hercules, an 
 elegant rotunda, the interior of which was decorated with a 
 variety of paintings, such asTheseus returning from his Cretan 
 adventure with the Minotaur, the birth of Telephus, Chiron 
 the centaur instructing Achilles, &c. These were carefully 
 separated from the walls, and are now deposited in the 
 museum. 
 
 But the most important discovery was that of a villa, at a 
 small distance from the forum ; not only on account of the 
 peculiarity of its plan, but because the greater number of 
 -works of art were dug out of its precinct ; and above all, 
 
 because 
 
151 
 
 because it contained a library consisting of more than 1500 
 volumes, which are Hkewise safely deposited in the museum, 
 and which, were they legible, would form the greatest classic 
 treasure in the universe. Of these I shall have to treat at 
 length in the sequel; I therefore confine the present obsei^- 
 vations to a brief description of the plan of this country seat. 
 You no doubt are eager to learn to whom it originally be- 
 longed ; and I should be as eager to satisfy your curiosity, 
 but for one unfortunate circumstance, which is, that I know 
 nothing at all about it mysself. Like the honest Neapoli- 
 tans therefore, who often, when asked a question, reply in 
 their broken Italian, Bulite die vi digo una bugia * ? I pre- 
 fer a candid avowal of my ignorance, to the ungracious, but 
 not uncommon, practice of passing off for truth the specula- 
 tions of a fertile imasrination. Not but that I have formed 
 a presumptive opinion on this matter, which, however pro- 
 bable, I w^ould by no means insist upon your adopting. I 
 think it extremely likely that this pretty little villa belonged 
 to one of the Balbi, who, according to some inscriptions, had 
 considerable property in this part of the country, and w hose 
 statues as I have before said, were found in the forum. The 
 building itself, although elegant, was small, and consisted 
 of a ground floor only, like those of Pompeji. Besides a 
 number of small closets round an interior hall, it contained a 
 bathing-room, curiously fitted up w ith marble and water- 
 pipes, and a chapel of diminutive size, without any window 
 or aperture for daylight, the walls of which were painted 
 w ith serpents, and within which a bronze tripod w as fijund 
 standing on the floor. From the darkness of this apartment, 
 and its serpentine decorations, it is probable that the pos- - 
 sessor of the villa was a Dissenter (for the ancients had their 
 Dissenters as w ell as we, with this difference, that they were 
 not near so numerous, nor w^ere they allowed the exercise of 
 
 their 
 
 • Would you Lave me tell ygu a lie? 
 
133 
 
 their worship). This dissenting country squire most likely 
 had been performing his secret devotions in the chapel above- 
 mentioned at the very time, or a few moments prior to the 
 general destruction of his property; for coals and cinders 
 were found in the tripod. To what persuasion he belonged, 
 whether an adorer of Isis, Osiris, Orus, or Serapis, or an 
 Eleusinian sectary, it is no business of our's to pry into. 
 
 Our Herculanean Dissenter, you will be surprised to learn^ 
 was a man of taste and literature : witness his garden and 
 library. The apartment which contained the latter, was 
 fitted up with wooden presses around the walls, about six 
 feet in height, and another double row of presses stood iso- 
 lated in the middle of the room, so as to admit a free pas- 
 sage on all sides. The wood of which the presses had been 
 made was burnt of course to a cinder, and gave way at the 
 first touch ; but the volumes, composed of a much more pe- 
 rishable substance, the Egyptian or Syracusan papyrus, were, 
 although completely carbonized through the effects of the 
 heat, yet so far preserved as to admit of their individual re- 
 mtoval to a similar set of modern presses, with glass doors in 
 the museum. About 1500 were thus conveyed from anti- 
 quity into the modern world ; and 1500 volumes, permit me 
 to observe, is by no means to be considered as a despicable 
 number for the collection of a private Roman, In point of 
 expence it may fairly be estimated equal to a modern li- 
 brary of 8,000 volumes; and on the score of matter and in- 
 formation which the former may be presumed to have con- 
 tained, the same ratio of proportion w ill probably hold good ; 
 perhaps, even, it would be paying a compliment to the au- 
 thors of the present day to assert, that upon an average 80 
 volumes of their works are intrinsically equivalent to 15 of 
 the ancients. The latter wrote for fame, the former but 
 too often scribble against/a^/ziVzc. 
 
 Thus much for the library. As to the garden, if the ac- 
 count 
 
153 
 
 <^ount of it be true (and there is no reason to doubt its cor- 
 rectness)^ it must be owned, that the taste of Squire Balbus 
 made the most of the small piece of ground, which extended 
 from his snug little box to the sea. In the middle a pond 
 was situated, nearly of the size and form of the basin in our 
 Green Park ; the edges were faced with stone, and the two 
 narrow ends rounded off in a semicircular form. This piece 
 of water was surrounded with beds or parterres of various 
 shapes, and a covered walk, supported by columns, inclosed 
 the garden on all sides. The columns were sixty-four in 
 number, twice ten for the short, and twice twenty-two for 
 the longer sides of the quadrangle ; they were composed of 
 bricks, neatly stuccoed over, exactly similar to those in the 
 Pompejan barracks. Each pillar supported one end of a 
 wooden beam, the other extremity of which rested on the 
 garden wall, thus forming the skeleton of an arbour of vines 
 ])robably round the whole garden ; and under this covered 
 walk several semicircular recesses were built, which served 
 as bathing-places. The space between the pillars was deco- 
 rated with marble busts and bronze statues, alternately ar- 
 ranged. This garden was surrounded by a narrow ditch ; 
 and another covered walk, of considerable length, led to a 
 circular balcony, or platform, to which you ascended by four 
 steps, but which overhung the sea about 15 feet. The floor 
 of this balcony consisted of the very beautiful tesselated 
 pavement, which now serves the same purpose in one of the 
 rooms of the Portici museum. From this charming spot the 
 prospect over the whole bay of Naples, including the moun- 
 tains of Sorrento, the Island of Capri, and Mount Posilipo, 
 must have been delightful ; and here, we may suppose, did 
 Squire Balbus, after the business of the day, enjoy the cool 
 evening breeze over a dish of tea, prepared by his amiable 
 consort, or occasionally indulge himself with a pipe and the 
 newspaper in Mrs. Balbus's absence. 
 
 X 
 
 The 
 
154 
 
 The above^ my dear T. comprises the most interesting 
 particulars that have come to my knowledge respecting th6 
 actual and former condition of the town of Herculaneum. If, 
 a circumstance which I much fear^ the description fall short 
 of your expectations, if it be less satisfactory and minute 
 than my account of Pompeji, you will always bear in mind^ 
 that in this instance I have been the organ of others ; while 
 at Pompeji I saw and examined every thing myself, with a 
 view of fulfilling my promise to you as far as lay in my 
 power. The impression which the first view of the hitter 
 city made upon my mind, will never be effaced. Nothing I 
 have yet seen has so powerfully engrossed my attention : a 
 thousand different ideas and sensations rushed upon me in 
 rapid succession ; curiosity, admiration, a melancholy sensi- 
 bility, reflections on the vanity of all sublunary things, pity for 
 the sufferers, alternately and simultaneously obtruded them- 
 selves. The sight of the streets, buildings, and decorations, 
 like the index of a volume, called to my recollection the best 
 part of what little antiquarian information I was master of, 
 and even many a passage of the writers of the people, whose 
 habitations of comfort I beheld in ruins. It is really sur- 
 prising that to this day we liave^ as far at least as I know, 
 no drawings and plans worth notice of Pompeji and its build- 
 ings. The prohibition of the government cannot be the 
 cause, for not only might the overseer be easily prevailed 
 upon to permit an infraction of the order, but since the town 
 is accessible on many sides, without passing the invalid's 
 lodge at the gate, the drawings might even be taken without 
 being noticed by him. But what would surpass in value and 
 interest any drawing, would be, in my opinion, a complete 
 model of the whole town in cork, like those of Mr. Dubourg'.s 
 in London, representing every temple, theatre, street, and 
 house (both externally and internally), on a small scale. As 
 all the buildings are without roofs, the interior would bo 
 equally visible. An undertaking of this kind^ I admit, would 
 
 require 
 
155 
 
 require much labour and patience ; perhaps two years might 
 be insufficient to accomplish the task : but a man would un- 
 questionably realize a fortune in less time by its exhibition. 
 In London, for instance, who would not give his half-crown 
 to see so complete a fac-simile of this ancient town ? Indeed 
 I believe there are thousands who Mould readily purchase 
 such a treat at the expence of half-a-guinea and more. 
 
 Had such a model existed before now, my dear T. you 
 need not have been at the trouble of wading- through my long- 
 and tedious descriptions of objects which must be seen, in 
 reality or in miniature, to be duly appreciated. On the other 
 hand, I should have been deprived of a great portion of mat- 
 ter, which thus afforded me an additional opportunity and 
 incitement to converse with you on subjects which I know to 
 have always caused you the greatest interest and delight. 
 
 I remain, dear T. 
 
 ***** 
 
 LETTER XI. 
 
 Naples, May — , 1809. 
 
 My dear T. 
 
 BEFORE I proceed to give you the promised account 
 of the royal museum at Portici, I must acquaint you with the 
 news of the day. 
 
 We have been favoured with a visit of the great warrior. 
 General Murat, the first consul's favorite. His entry into this 
 city was " imposing." A host of hussars, aides-de-camp, and 
 staff- officers, in the richest uniforms, proclaimed the rank 
 and importance of this Envoy extraordinary. Ciniosity led 
 me to the opera to behold the man's features, but I had the 
 walk for my pains ; a huge beard and whiskers hid his face 
 
 X % from 
 
156 
 
 from the eyes of ever)' one : he may therefore be said to have 
 been here incognito. 
 
 The purport of this republican embassy is kept a profound 
 secret. By all accounts it is likely to be profitable to at least 
 one party : since^ as I am credibly informed, the general is 
 en passant, to receive, in person, a present of thirty thousand 
 ounces* of tyrannical coinage, and of a service of plate of 
 
 equal value, prepared for him by royal munificence. 
 fr- 
 it is also whispered But let us leave all whispers to 
 
 diplomatical quidnuncs, and at once proceed from the gene- 
 ral's well earned service of plate to the earthen mugs and 
 brazen spoons of the former inhabitants of this country, still 
 to be seen in the museum. The tune my dear T. is precious • 
 in a year or two, for aught you and I know, all these fine 
 things may be swallowed up in the Louverian vortex ; such 
 is the surprising force of attraction of the Astre Napoleon ! 
 
 Pliisque cupit quo plura sunm deinittit ia arcem. Clauuiax. ♦' Urn." 
 
 As it is, my good friend, the museum at Portici happens to 
 be far short of its complement of curiosities ; not that any of 
 the latter have had as yet the good fortune to be napoleonized 
 (I detest the term pilfered) ; only, to avoid napoleonization, 
 the best statues, busts, vases, and other articles of value, went 
 J5 ^vith the court to Palermo, where they still remain, and 
 
 .whence they will probably not return until the arrival of the 
 royal family in this city, an event which is said to be vei*y 
 near at hand. The absence of these .statues, I confess to you, 
 causes me but a trifling disappointment. I have already 
 seen ten times more than I can remember ; and on my jour- 
 ney through Rome and Paris, shall see more than enough to 
 satisfy my curiosity. What I conceive to be the most valu- 
 able of the collection, and what I have longed to behold al- 
 
 mast 
 
 * An ounce is about Us. sterling. 
 
157 
 
 most from the age of childhood, is still here ; I mean the 
 Herculaneau papyri and the collection of ancient paintings. 
 These the court left behind, not, I dare say, from an opinion 
 of their being less deserving to be withdrawn from the grasp 
 of Gallic fraternity, but through a motive which reflects last- 
 ing honour on the royal government. The manuscripts, in 
 their burnt state, are of so precarious a texture, so brittle, 
 that the touch of a finger, much more a removal from their 
 place, would endanger their existence. The paintings, al- 
 most all on stucco, have with the greatest trouble and inge- 
 nuity been sawed off the walls of the ancient apartments, 
 affixed to a new back, and put into separate frames ; a loco- 
 motion, consequently, would prove as detrimental to them as 
 to the papyri. The court, therefore, generously determined 
 rather to leave both to their fate, than, by an a,ttempt to bring 
 them away, deprive perhaps science and the arts of such in- 
 estimable treasures. ]My heartfelt thanks to them for their 
 
 disinterested resolution, but for which I should have lost a 
 gratification which I number among the greatest of my life ! ! 
 
 To begin then with the papyri ; I must confess to you 
 dear T. now that I have seen what they are, I entertain great 
 doubts of their being ever turned to any practical advantage 
 in literature. The discovery of so considerable a number of 
 ancient manuscripts was hailed at the time by every lover 
 of antiquity throughout Europe, as an event which bid fair 
 to add to our catalogue of Greek and Roman classics, many 
 authors the existence of whose works might hitherto have been 
 utterly unknown ; or others, whose writings were lamented 
 as lost. At all events it was hoped that the exploration of 
 this hidden treasure w ould be the means not only of supply- 
 ing many of the chasms, with which a barbarous age had 
 handed to us some of the most invaluable remains of ancient 
 learning, but also of correcting a number of spurious read- 
 ings, by which ignorance and pedantry had defaced tbem. 
 
 Unfortu- 
 
158 
 
 Unfortunately, my dear T. all these fond expectations 
 have to this day remained disappointed. The progress made 
 in the restoration of these Manuscripts, although perhaps 
 commensurate with the difficulty of the task, has hitherto 
 been insignificant. The process devised for unfolding- the 
 burnt rolls, however ingenious, is of the most tedious nature, 
 and, as yet no other has been successfully attempted. In- 
 deed, when it is considered, that any new method can only 
 be tried on an original and perhaps inestimable manuscript, 
 and that such a trial may possibly cause the destruction of 
 the very treasure in search, it is natm*al to suppose that those 
 who were charged with a task of such delicacy would use the 
 utmost deliberation and circumspection before they ventured 
 on innovations attended with such manifest danger. 
 
 Tedious as the method is, it would have led to far more 
 ostensible results, held its application l)een constant, and had 
 a sufficient number of hands been at all times employed to 
 put it in practice. But frequently the undertaking was dis- 
 continued for a length of time, and often when it was resu- 
 med, want of funds and of energy prevented any decisive 
 progress. Until very late the establishment had been almost 
 a dead letter, when through British aid it was called into 
 action, and put on a footing of effectiveness from which more 
 productive results may reasonably be expected. 
 
 His Royal Highness the Prince of Wales, from a zeal for 
 the advancement of learning, which reflects honour on the 
 British character, and calls for the gratitude of the Literati 
 of all Europe, has sent hither Mr. Hayter, a gentleman of 
 classic attainments, who, under the sanction of the Neapo- 
 litan government, superintends the whole establishment, and 
 directs its operations with indefatigable diligence. Through 
 Mr. Hayter's kindness I have had frequent access to the mu- 
 seum, and more particularly to that branch of it which con- 
 tains 
 
 I 
 
15^ 
 
 tains the papyri^ and I am thus enaliled to give you a descrip- 
 tion of the process^ which I am sure will give you pleasure. 
 
 Previously to my entering upon the detail of the machinery 
 u^ed for unrolling the manuscripts, it may be necessary to pre- 
 mise^ that from the effects of volcanic heat, they are reduced 
 to a perfect coal, liable to be crumbled into a black dust by 
 a very feeble pressure of the fingers, such as might be the 
 state of a ti^ht roll of paper after being exposed to the action 
 of an heated oven, without being absolutely ignited : with 
 this favourable ditferencc, however, that, instead of paper, 
 these works were written on papyrus, a substance much 
 stronger and more glutinous than our present writing paper. 
 — They had, like all books of that age, been rolled up with 
 the writing inwards, which was divided into rectangular spa- 
 ces, much in the manner of the pages of modern books. 
 
 As the different lamina of which the roll is composed, would 
 break off with the slightest touch, a fresh back is successive- 
 ly formed by the application of gold-beater's skin affixed 
 with gum water. Such, however, is the damaged state of the 
 material, that without using very minute patches of gold- 
 beaters' skin (generally not exceeding the size of a common 
 pea), an upper stratum would often be glued to one or more 
 under ones, through the little holes or breaks which some- 
 times penetrate several of the lamina. But in order to 
 render myself as intelligible as possible, I better refer 
 you to the annexed drawing, with its accompanying scale : 
 This drawing represents one of the six or seven frames 
 which are now daily at work in the museum of Portici, un- 
 der the direction of INIr. Ilayter. As the apparatus is per- 
 fectly simple, a few references, I am sure, will be sufficient 
 to explain all its component parts. 
 
160 
 
 £j fctt 
 
 A B C D is a wooden frame wliich may be placed on a com- 
 mon table. 
 
 // Two brass rods^ supporting 
 
 e e Two brass rests in the shape of half-moons. On these rests 
 
 MM The manuscript is placed, Mith 
 
 gg some raw cotton to guard it from being injured by the 
 contact of the metal. 
 
 h h h is so much of the manuscript roll as has already been 
 furnished with a fresh back of patches of gold-beaters' 
 skin. 
 
 As soon as a sufficient extent of back is thus secured, 
 III, silk strings, are fastened to the ends by means of dis- 
 solved gum Arabic. These strings are suspended from 
 ik ik ik, a row of pegs (like those of a violin) going through 
 0, an opening in the top of the frame. 
 
 In proportion as the laborious operation of forming a 
 
 new 
 
161 
 
 new back proceeds^ the work is gently and progressively 
 wound up by turning the pegs^ until one entire page is thus 
 unfolded, which is forthwith separated from the roll and 
 spread on a flat board or frame. A draftsman^ unacquainted 
 with the language of the manuscript, makes a faithful fac- 
 simile of it, with all its chasms, blemishes, or irregularities. 
 The taking of this copy is no less a work of extreme patience 
 and nicety, as it is only by a particular reflection of light, that 
 the characters, whose black colom* differs very little from that 
 of the carbonized papyrus, can be distinguished. The fac- 
 simile is next handed to an antiquarian, who separates the 
 words and sentences, supplies any hiatus, and otherwise en- 
 deavours to restore the sense of the original. By a like pro- 
 cess the succeeding pages are unrolled and decyphered, if I 
 may be allowed to use the expression, imtil the work is com- 
 pleted. The whole is afterwards published, both in letter- 
 press and correct engravings of each page^ at the expence 
 of tlie government. 
 
 In this tedious and costly manner, one work (a treatise of 
 Philodemus on the power of music) has been recovered and 
 published. Unfortunately, it was both the first and last with 
 which the lovers of ancient literature have been gratified ; and 
 the contents of even this were far from compensating for ei- 
 ther the trouble or expence bestowed upon it. Great ex- 
 pectations, however, may reasonably be formed from the 
 uninterrupted labours of the present establishment, since its 
 reorganization by Mr. Ilayter. — That gentleman's superin- 
 tendance is of too recent a date to have furnished any thing 
 but hopes ; but these hopes you will allow to be well found- 
 ed, when I inform you that among the manuscripts now un- 
 rolling, there isa work byEpicurushimself, entitled nEPi c^tze^s 
 (of nature J, and a Latin poem by an author as yet unascer- 
 tained*. Here 
 
 • A circumstantial account of this Latin poem, together with a fac-siniile of 
 
 Y 
 
162 
 
 Here, my dear T. I shall for the present leave the Hercu- 
 lanean papyri, with my most fervent and pious wishes for 
 
 their 
 
 one of its verses having appeared in the first volume of the Repository of Arts, 
 
 the Author with the permission of the Publisher of that JournlTl, subjoins the article 
 
 in question, accompanied by the fac-simile, which, for want of room, has been 
 divided into two lines. 
 
 *' We have the satisfaction to present our readers with a fac- 
 simile of a line of a Latin poem, found among the pap3'ri, and 
 unrolled under the direction of a learned gentleman now at 
 Palermo, under the patronage of an illustrious personage. For 
 its authenticity we pledge our credit with the public, which we 
 think cannot be doubted, when we subjoin to this great lite- 
 rary curiosity the comment of the learned gentleman himself, 
 
 C 
 
 O Nil L.ltS ' A/OX • APT A ' D NC^IVi 
 X. 
 
 '" It is part of an epic poem in Latin. There are only 
 nine verses in a page : in the verses a few letters are wanting : 
 each verse is written at its full length ; and as it is hexameter, 
 and in a large character, forms an extensive line, especially as 
 there is a full stop after each word : and the manuscript 
 itself is very imperfect, and furnishes the latter part only of 
 the respective pages. From this circumstance, and from the 
 number of lost verses which appeal- necessary to supply the 
 
 sense 
 
163 
 
 their restoration, and proceed to the ancient paintings like- 
 wise deposited in the museum at Portici. 
 
 There 
 
 sense between the last verse of one page and the beginning 
 of a second, 1 conjecture that two-thirds of a page are want- 
 ing : these, perhaps, may be found afterwards ; and indeed it 
 may not seem unreasonable to expect such an instance of good 
 fortune, after having discovered, in a similar case, the two parts 
 of Polystratus, as 1 mentioned in a former letter. The verses 
 are about seventy : that of which the fac-simile is given is the 
 last. This verse proves that the poem is not ended here. The 
 cross under the first word seems to denote the number of the 
 book. The name of the writer may be in that part of the ma- 
 nuscript which is wanting, and, as is usual in the others, at 
 some little distance from the last page. The subject of the 
 poem is Augustus in Egypt. The verses express the name of 
 JEgypt, of Ccesar, of Alexandria, which is represented to be 
 besieged ; it mentions also the queen, and speaks of the battle 
 near Actium as a past event. The style of the poetry is ex- 
 cellent : the merit of the composition, and the nature of the 
 subject, persuades me that the poem may with great probabi- 
 lity be attributed to Varius as its author. I need not here re- 
 peat all those passages of ancient writers, which may be seen 
 altogether in Lilius Giraldus, on this poem : he celebrated, it 
 is well known, the deeds of Augustus. This fact, added to 
 the lines of Horace, is favourable to my hypothesis. I must 
 also add, that a gentleman, extremely well versed in literature 
 and the fine arts, the Chevalier Seratti, one of the Neapolitan 
 secretaries of state, approves my idea. The authentic alphabet 
 of the ancient Latin character and orthography, which is ac- 
 quired from this manuscript, renders, in the opinion of every 
 learned man, exclusively of other interesting considerations ; 
 renders, I say, this discovery invaluable. 
 
 ^"- This is the object which the famous Mabillon traversed 
 so many countries to find. What would Montfaucon and our 
 Chishoim have given for such a treasure ! Before the appear- 
 ance of this poemp there existed, on this important subject of 
 
 T 2 Latin 
 
164 
 
 There are few of tlie ancient writers, you know as well as 
 myself, but what speak in the highest terms of the skill of their 
 
 Latin autography not a single criterion of classical antiquity ; 
 nor, therefore, of indisputable authority. This treasure alone 
 more than compensates the munificence of the great prince 
 who is the patron of this illustrious undertaking, and makes 
 his royal name dear and venerable to all those who can justly 
 value ancient learning, or appreciate the loss which this trea- 
 sure has amply retrieved ! '" 
 
 Repository of Arts, vol. I. p. 180. 
 
 As it may be salisfactory to the reader to be informed of the final result of 
 Mr. Hayter's proceedings, a brief notice on this subject which appeared in the 
 Repository of Arts for June, 1810, is likewise subjoined. 
 
 '^ The Rev. ISIr Hayter, who, since the year 1802, has been 
 superintendant of the Herculanean MSS. for his Royal Highness 
 the Prince of Wales, has just arrived in London, from Paler- 
 mo. We regret to have it confirmed, that the whole museum 
 at Portici, including 1300 of those MSS. which had not been 
 unfolded, and 230 originals, which had been unfolded, partially 
 or wholly, by Mr. Hayter, were suffered to fall into the hands 
 of the French, notwithstanding the remonstrance of this gen- 
 tleman to the Neapolitan court, to have them removed, or 
 sent to England. We learn, however, that Mr. Hayter had 
 previously copied and corrected 94 of those which he had 
 unfolded, and that these copies, which are fac-siiuiles, were 
 transmitted by him to the Prince of Wales, and have since 
 been presented by his royal highness to the university of 
 Oxford. Among these was a Latin poem, which Mr. Hayter 
 conjectures to have been a composition of Varius, a friend of 
 Virgil, of which some account, and a specimen, will be found 
 in one of the early numbers of the Repositoty. Of this Latin 
 poem, as well as of an ingenious treatise on death, by Philo- 
 demus, fac-similes have been engraved. Engraved fac-similes 
 of three books and a half of Epicurus de Natiira, the discovery 
 of which was an invaluable acquisition, have also been left be- 
 hind at Naples ; but fac-simile copies of those, and four other 
 books, are among the 94 now at Oxford." 
 
 Repository of Arts, vol. iv. p. ,31. 
 
165 
 
 age in works of architecture, sculpture, music, and painting. 
 Some of their accounts of their works of art are indeed so mar- 
 vellous, that we should be warranted in doubting their vera- 
 city, did not the shattered, but still standing remains of their 
 structures, and the beautiful proportions of their statues in our 
 collections, vouch for the truth of those cotemporary encomi- 
 ums. The^ind that conceived, and the hand which reared a 
 Pantheon ; a Colosseum ; a Parthenion ; a Theseon ; the py- 
 ramids, Antinopolis, the tombs of Thebes, or the massy tem- 
 ples of Tentyra or Elephanta, could surely create wonders 
 similar, or even superior to those ; the age which chiselled a 
 Belvedere Apollo, an Antinous, a Farnesian Hercules, could 
 equally well produce an Olympian Jove. 
 
 But with the music and painting of the ancients the case 
 stands differently. All that is left to give us an idea of the for- 
 mer, are about half a dozen tracts, containing a dry detail and 
 nomenclature of intervals, rhytinii, and other theoretical and 
 mathematical speculations, which, as our literati are but sel- 
 dom contrapuntists, or our musicians literati, have only in- 
 creased our doubts and perplexities. Why, the score of a 
 single attic dance or sacred hymn would be worth all the geo- 
 metrical disquisitions on music of the ancient writers ; if with- 
 al, in case it were ever discovered, we could, even with the 
 help of the quartos of our veteran Burney, contrive to read 
 and play it. 
 
 In regard to ancient painting, our information, before the 
 discovery of Hereulaneum and Pompeji, was almost equally- 
 defective. A few smoke-dried Arabesques at least, or the 
 Aldohrandini nuptials, could not fairly be considered as pro- 
 per specimens to guide our decision. It was reserved for our 
 age to collect, as it were by magic, from the walls of the above 
 towns, an extensive gallery of genuine antique pictures, the 
 only one in the world, and, on that account alone, a treasure 
 totally inappreciable. 
 
166 
 
 These unique relics of ancient art are deposited in a range 
 of apartments on the ground floor of the museum ; they are 
 suspended against the walls in plain frames, and have, io my 
 sorrow, been richly covered with a modern varnish. Their 
 size naturally varies from a foot square, to whole-length 
 groups nearly as large as life. Let us step in, examine, and 
 judge impartially ! 
 
 We here meet with many an old friend ! The half naked 
 female yonder, adorned with a necklace and bracelets, sitting 
 on a couch against a wild rock, and fixing her anxious eye on 
 g galley which a fair wind has already wafted to some distance 
 
 who can it be but the unfortunate, the injured Ariadne?* 
 
 She has but just awoke; she appears doubtful whether her 
 misfortune is real, or the fiction of a dream. You fancy 
 you hear her calling out '' Theseus [" You pity her 
 distresses, and curse the faithless wretch (hero I was going 
 to say) whom her love had saved from destruction, and who 
 had the heart to abandon so heavenly a form on a desolate 
 island. Mark here the delicacy of the painter's judgment ! 
 The Ariadne of a Rubens, a Caracci, a Buonarotti, would 
 have been in the height of despair, perhaps tearing 
 her hair, or even, for aught I know, dashing her head 
 against a rock. We should not have felt more, nay, not 
 so much for her. But this unknown Grecian artist, by 
 seizing the moment of her rising from slumber, the very be- 
 ginning of her distress, avoids, on the one hand, every un- 
 pleasing impression, while on the other he leaves it to the 
 beholder to guess, to anticipate the despair which must be 
 her lot when she knows the certainty of her wretchedness. 
 While challenging you to think for yourself, he convinces you 
 that his head has also been at work as well as his hand ; and 
 the very discovery, by dint of your own thought, of that of 
 the painter, is gratifying to your taste, or pride, if you like 
 
 it. 
 
 • " ' ' ■ ■ » ■ I . ■ . . I ■■ ^j 
 
 * See plate 7. 
 

 ""tCV^ 
 
 V'.. 
 
 
 Londorvrub. atR-Ackermann'-jjaSp-aruiatfib . 
 
167 
 
 it. Ill this, my dear T. I conceive, consists the great skill 
 of an artist. Pictures are not merely intended to em- 
 ploy our optic nerves ; they must afford food for the 
 mind, to be pleasing to the man of true taste. The- 
 seus is not to be seen on board ; the consciousness of his 
 infamy, keeps him under the hatches. And this fine hero 
 is the patron of Athens! a pretty patron forsooth, whom any 
 one of our juries would have cast in some hundreds of talents 
 damag-es w^ithout stirring from the box. Why, jEneas, in 
 his conduct to Dido, is a saint compared to this .'Egean ad- 
 venturer : he, at any rate, left his mistress at her home, 
 where, had she not chosen to roast herself alive, she would 
 have soon found a substitute. 
 
 Before we leave this charming painting, let us cast a glance 
 on the vessel, with its high poop and single sail. It has no 
 rudder, but, in lieu of it, two enormous oars project from 
 two circular apertures in the stern, probably to supply the 
 office of a rudder ; for, according as one or the other of the 
 oars is pulled, the ship will move either one way or the other. 
 I have seen some of our barges on the Thames w^orked in the 
 same manner. 
 
 Let us pass to another representation of the same subject : 
 it is, no doubt, an interesting picture; but compared with 
 the forfner, certainly inferior in composition, design, and co- 
 louring. The daughter of Minos is likewise sitting on a 
 couch on the sea-side; she seems astonished at the possibi- 
 lity of the perfidious act. Cupid, with an unstrung bow and 
 two arrows, stands weeping on one side — at least, his hands 
 conceal his face ; and that, indeed, is synoniinous with weep- 
 ing in the delicate conception of a Grecian artist. To the 
 left stands a rudder, which seems wanting to the galley ; and 
 behind x\riadne is an elegant female figure with large wings, 
 supporting her with one Imnd, and pointing with the other 
 
 to 
 
168 
 
 to the vessel. She resembles^ what certainly she cannot be, 
 a Victory ; but I am at a loss to guess the drift of the figure. 
 Is it Fate consoling the injured maid, by foreteUlng her ap- 
 proaching deliverance, and the punishment Avhich awaits 
 her seducer? Not unlikely. Bewildered by guilt, or the 
 amorous caresses of Phaedra, Theseus, you see, has forgot- 
 ten, according to the pre-concerted plan, to change the black 
 sail for a white one. /Egeus is watching on Sunium for the 
 return of his darling son : he will soon espy the sable canvas^ 
 think Theseus devoured by the Minotaur, and, by the rash 
 plunge, give his name to the .>Egean sea. This fiction of 
 retributive justice pleases me^ it is quite conformable to the 
 ancient doctrine of fate. 
 
 The story of Ariadne appears to have been a favourite 
 subject with the ancient artists ; for this third picture is evi- 
 dently taken from it also. The delicate imagination of the 
 artist has been so kind to the maid as not even to make her 
 acquainted with her distressed situation, before he intro- 
 duces a comforter and deliverer to her. She still sleeps in a 
 rocky recess on a couch at the side, as she thinks of her lover ; 
 his treacherous flight she is yet to learn when she awakes. 
 Cupid takes pity on her forlorn condition ; he calls away 
 Bacchus from a bacchanalian revel, and guides his way to 
 the sequestered spot. The blooming god approaches with 
 his train, among which Silenus is not forgotten. — Look at 
 the fat old little bonvivant carrying his master's thyrsus, and 
 refrain from smiling if you can. He is not pleased with the 
 rocky trip, because he is obliged to use his sliort legs in- 
 stead of riding his dapple. But master Silenus is a well- 
 behaved old gentleman when compared with that lecherous 
 copper-coloured satyr, who, forsooth, has the impudence to 
 uncover the elegant limbs of the sleeping beauty. Half an 
 inch more, and the picture would not have been admitted 
 into this collection ; at least not without a green curtain, 
 
 for 
 
 I 
 
169 
 
 for modem satyrs to draw. Those distant wild groups amo?! ^^^ 
 the rocks, with their tymbals, crotals, and thyrsi, are the bac- 
 chants wliom the god of the grape-juice has left for a while 
 to see his: new bride. This painting I suspect to be a mid- 
 dling copy of an excellent original, and the original author 
 perhaps an Athenian, who, not to wound his national pride by 
 the introduction of one of his tutelary demigod's most dirty 
 actions, has composed the design so as to leave out of it any 
 thing relating to Theseus or his ship. 
 
 If you would behold this hero in an achievement worthy 
 of his name, you must survey yonder picture of large dimen- 
 sions. That noble manly figure, of comparatively double 
 the human size, is the hero Theseus ; the monster at his feet, 
 the Minotaur whom he has just slain. The latter lies on the 
 ground, with his bull's head towards the spectator^ and the 
 whole length of his gigantic human body stretched in an op- 
 posite direction inwards, and admirably fore-shortened. 
 Pliny says, that Pausias of Sicyon painted a picture of The- 
 seus killing the Minotaur ; that to express the monstrous 
 length of the ox-man, he represented him " adversum, non 
 iransversiim ;" and that many copied, but none equalled 
 this picture. Our Minotaur here lies exactly in this ''adverse" 
 position ; it is therefore extremely probable that this is one 
 of the many copies mentioned by Pliny; who, moreover, to 
 strengthen my conjecture, resided close to Herculaneum, 
 and, indeed, found his death in the volcanic emption which 
 destroyed that town. Perhaps, therefore, he alludes to this 
 identical picture, which has all the characteristics of a copy, 
 a design far surpassing the execution ; Ariadne excepted,, 
 who is really well and elegantly drawn and finished : the 
 other figures are rather stiff, and their colouring indifferent. 
 Theseus, as before remarked, is almost double the size of 
 the other figures (thus the ancients were wont to represent 
 the majesty of their heroes and demigods). In his right he 
 
 z holdjg 
 
no 
 
 holds a club, on his finger he wears a ring. A female, cer- 
 tainly Ariadne, touches the club with a countenance ex- 
 pressive of her admiration of the prowess of the youth to 
 whom she has devoted her affections. Some Athenian 
 youths, full of gratitude to their deliverer, are clinging round 
 him in various fond attitudes ; one embracing his knee, ano- 
 ther mounting a stone to kiss his hands ; some throng from 
 behind out of the massy gate of the Labyrinth, to ascertain 
 the fact of their deliverance; each strives to be foremost in 
 returning thanks to their heroic countryman. On an ele- 
 vated fragment of rock, Diana, the tutelary divinity of Attica 
 and of Theseus, sits with a bow of tlie flat antelope's horn, 
 some arrows, and a tubed quiver by her side. This noble 
 picture, my dear T. merits a much ampler comment than my 
 space and purpose admit of; and, indeed, the trascendant 
 beauties of its design and composition are worthy of an abler 
 commentator than your humble servant. From these obser- 
 vations, however, I flatter myself you w ill feel how eminently 
 the original artist has in every respect done justice to his 
 subject: each individual part tends to the formation of a 
 complete whole ; nothing is wanting to convey a perfect, a 
 noble idea of this important transaction of mythic history. 
 The ancients, believe me, w ere as great pamters as they 
 w ere statuaries ! 
 
 The majestic, more than human, calmness of yonder youth, 
 the laurel crown encircling his temples, and the lyre he holds, 
 proclaim the Delian god. It is not the fierce destroyer of 
 Python, it is not the savage executioner of Niobe's guiltless 
 offspring, the Grecian pencil has here purposed to pourtray, 
 — No; Phoebus, the god of light, the protector of the fine 
 and sublime arts which ennoble mankind, the patron of sci- 
 ence and philosophy, is here delineated in all the noble sim- 
 plicity of character due to him. Every feature of his coun- 
 tenance expresses a deep sublimity of thought; the very 
 
 graceful 
 
171 
 
 graceful elevation of his left hand above the forehead, is in- 
 dicative of a mind employed in intense meditation. His face 
 is less t^egularlT/ beautiful than that of the Belvedere (a per- 
 fection of mental powers is not to be traced in the contour 
 of regular beauty) ; he is represented sitting on a throne (no 
 work of genius and immortality has probably yet been written 
 ma standing- position) and half naked, his legs being covered 
 by rich folds of green drapery, which partially winds round 
 his shoulders. A branch of laurel rests ao:ainst the throne. 
 What struck me at first sight, and, I confess, pleased me 
 not a little, was the great similiarity of his features with that 
 of Milton. An engraving of this picture would make a ca- 
 pital frontispiece to the Paradise Lost. 
 
 As companions to the former, equal In size and un- 
 questionably by the same master, the Pierian sisters claim 
 our attention. It is worthy of remark, that their names 
 and respective offices are indicated under each by two 
 Greek words, the former in the nominative, the latter in 
 the accusative ; probably to prevent mischief among mo- 
 dern antiquarians. The historic muse, Clio, for instance,, 
 has the words kaeio ictopian subjoined. She is represented 
 sitting on a plain chair, with a curious, almost semicircular 
 backboard. In her right she holds a rolled up book, and 
 at her feet stands a small portable bookcase, or rather book- 
 tub, filled with several similar rolls, all labelled. This is 
 precisely the scrinium of the ancients, and here we have at 
 once the shape of this article of studious furniture. I can 
 compare it to nothing better than to a small sized drum open 
 at top ; but it has a cover, which in this instance is turned 
 back. Two straps are likewise affixed to the rim, by which it 
 mightbe carried from place to place by the literary amanuen- 
 sis. This figure represents a beautiful female of serious and 
 intelligent aspect, with a laurel crown and ear-rings, sitting 
 cross-legged. The drapery, which is admirable, consists 
 of a wide purple mider garment, over which a mantle of 
 
 z 2 deep 
 
173 
 
 deep red, with a light blue edge, is loosely, but gracefully 
 thrown. 
 
 Thalia, the muse of comedy, has these words, ©aaeia 
 KfiMnAiAN. Her dress consists of a close green covering or 
 cap round the head, laurel crown, ear-rings, green tunic with 
 long sleeves and red border, besides a fringe all round. In 
 one hand she holds a comic mask, and in the other a crook- 
 ed statf, like a bishop's crosier (profana si licet componere 
 sacrisj. On her right knee a singular patch of red cloth is 
 observable, which I am under the necessity of leaving to the 
 illustration of pro founder antiquarians than myself. Her face 
 is expressive of chaste hilarity. 
 
 The female with that noble and serious, or (pour tout dire) 
 Siddonian countenance, is (as the tragic mask in her rights 
 the club in her left hand, and, above all, the subscription, 
 MEAnoMENH TPArp.AiAN, iufomis US,) Melpomeuc, the muse 
 of tragedy. Besides the laurel crown, she has a veil over 
 her head (not over her face) tied by a band or fascia. The 
 upper and under garments are blue, but of difli^rent shades, 
 and the former tied in a knot in front. 
 
 Witb Polyhymnia, the muse of rhetoric, we shall make 
 sliort process. But for the inscription, hoatmnia mygoyc, 
 it would not be easy to guess her name or office. She has 
 no attributes, simply holds her finger to her lip, and might 
 pass for the goddess of silence, were it not a little bit of a 
 bull to represent such a divinity under a female form. The 
 drapery is two fold, a blue robe over a green tunic. 
 
 You are not gaping, surely, my dear T. at the sameness 
 of this Pierian catalogue? Nay, have patience, forsooth, 
 to read what 1 have patience to write down for you ! You 
 would not have me break off with four of Mnemosyne's 
 
 daughters^ 
 
173 
 
 daimliters, and treat the rest of the sisterhood ^vith con- 
 tempt? — 1 know better; they are ladies; and, therefore, 
 not likely to foroft a slight put npon their sacred persons. 
 How easy a matter for Terpsichore to trip up my heels at the 
 first cotillion I soon hope to foot again in the bewitching 
 circle of British beauties ! What a mere trifle for Urania to 
 change my lucky star and turn the plusses of my future cal- 
 culations into 7nmusses, or for Eutei*pe Nay, as for poor 
 
 Euterpe, she must needs be excluded from our formal cata- 
 logue; for unfortunately she is not to be found among the 
 collection. '" Ergo," says a certain antiquarian, '' music 
 was not the rage in ancient Herculaneum!" — A rare syllo- 
 gism certainly ; but let the old gentleman believe the creed 
 of his ratiocination, while I let t/ou into the secret. — You 
 must know, then, that Miss Euterpe was undoubtedly amonw 
 the original nonal number ; but unfortunately neither perfect 
 nor spotless, and, pour comhle de malheur, the rude and 
 profane hands of the workmen, who had to bring her into 
 tlie world again, used her more shamefully than ever she 
 was treated by K., H., and a dozen of our composers, selec- 
 tors, and im.porters of music that shall be nameless. In 
 short, the lady could not be put together again, and so we 
 must do without her. — Now, truly, is it not singidar enough^ 
 that in Naples, the country, the very home of music, all the 
 muses should have arrived safe and perfect above ground, 
 except just the muse of harmony ? I could not help making 
 this remark to a Neapolitan gentleman, who happened to be 
 viewing the collection in company with, as I suppose, his 
 lady (for she did not seem to care a pin for him), and two 
 French ofhcers, in gold and buckram ; adding (what I 
 thought rather pretty), that Euterpe was ashamed to shew her 
 face among a people who are allowed to possess the greatest 
 skill in music of all the nations in Europe. — '' And yet,'* 
 rejoined the Parthenopian beau, '' the strains of the very 
 first of our composers would be incapable of celebrating ade- 
 quately 
 
174 
 
 quately ( degnamente ) the achievementsof British valour." — 
 Tit for tat; he certainly reinamed not in my debt! The 
 
 lady but no? let us dispose of our muses firsts before we 
 
 have anything' to say to Signora Comesichiama. — There are 
 but four more to go through. 
 
 EratOj the lyric muse (epatq taatpian), might, if she left 
 her instrument at home or in the carriage, safely, on a May 
 Sunday, take a promenade in Kensington gardens without 
 being thought particular in her dress ; so much is her rose- 
 coloured tunic and its neat blue border, together with her 
 green upper garment, the cut of the present day. Nor would 
 the myrtle wreath round her head (provided it icere artijicial) 
 be much criticised by our fashionables. The lyre is curious, 
 and ditlerent from any I have seen ; it has nine strings, and 
 she is in the act of striking two with her left, and one with 
 the plectrum she holds in her right hand ; iifull chord, there- 
 fore, the intervals of which, if we knew how the instrument 
 was tuned, it would be interesting enough to ascertain. With 
 the plectrum, she evidently plays what we call the bass, in 
 accompanyment to the two higher notes which she touches 
 w ith her left. And what better proof could you wish for, to 
 contradict the current opinion, that the music of the ancients 
 was all unisonous melody ? Our Erato evidently plays three 
 difl'erent notes at the same time : now, if three different notes 
 were played at once upon one instrument, it is no great stretch 
 to suppose that several different notes might just as well have 
 been played upon several instruments at once, by as many 
 performers; or^ in other words, that the ancients did play in 
 parts. 
 
 TEPTixoPH AYPAN, Tcrpsicliore, the muse of dancing, has 
 for attribute a lyre with seven strings, of rude workmanship, 
 with a large sounding-board (tesiudo) affixed to the instru- 
 ment. Her tunic is a blue and red shot, with only one sleeve. 
 
 the other arm being naked. The mantle blue. 
 
 The 
 
175 
 
 The female with that serious countenance, sitting on ah 
 antique chair, similar to the one given to Clio, and pointing 
 with the wand in her riglit, to a spot on the globe which she 
 holds in her left hand, is, of course, Urania. The artist has 
 deemed the attribute of a globe sufficiently indicative of her 
 province to omit the usual inscription in this single instance : 
 and the propriety of representing in a sitting attitude, the 
 muse of a science which requires intense meditation, is self- 
 evident. The folds of her yellow tunic, and of the blue robe 
 which partly cover it, are admirably disposed. 
 
 The last, and most beautiful of all, is Calliope, the epic 
 muse (kaaaiohh noiHMA). Her divinely majestic face, her 
 noble figure, altogether charm at first sight. Such, we fancy, 
 was the divinity who guided the pen of the blind bard of the 
 Iliad ; perhaps the roll of papyrus which she unfolds with 
 both her hands is the poem itself, that she seems to admire. 
 Her crown is not, as generally represented, of laurel, it is ivy; 
 why? This question I leave to the antiquarians to decide. 
 She has, besides, large ear-rings of pearl ; her under robe is 
 green, and a finely flowing white garment is thrown over it 
 in a thousand well arranged folds. 
 
 You are not sorry, I warrant, to see this long catalogue 
 of Muses brought to a conclusion, although, I am sure, you 
 will give me credit for no small portion of patience and des- 
 criptive punctuality in the framing of it. My notes on the 
 subsequent paintings, I find, to my great sorrow, much less 
 satisfactory and minute ; and the reason of this defect you 
 will probably guess of your own accord. At first I had been 
 alone in the gallery, and the keeper, whom I had seen once or 
 twice before, and who had already had a specimen of my li- 
 berality, did not venture to obtrude any of his parrot-com- 
 ments, observing, that he was sure I knew more about the 
 matter than himself. But unluckily — perhaps luckily, too — • 
 
 iu 
 
176 
 
 in the midst of my solitary observations, the company al)OY<? 
 mentioned made their appearance^ and filled the room with 
 a noise of self-suthcient converse, which, before even chance 
 brought them to the same picture I was examining., great- 
 ly distracted my attention, I have been with fifteen or 
 twenty persons in one room in the British Museum ; but 
 their modest whispers were to the clamorous vociferations 
 of these four, as the humming of a few solitary summer 
 insects on Primrose-hill, to the simultaneous crash of half 
 a dozen watchmen's rattles in Fleet-street. Add to this, 
 that whatever language they spoke, murder was commit- 
 ted at every sentence; if Italian, the two Frenchmen were 
 the assassins — if French, the lady and her man the culprits. 
 
 Attended by the showman, they overtook me at the 
 Muses.* Donna Anna, whom I surveyed as scrupulously 
 as any of the Pierides, appeared to be of the age of twenty- 
 five (I dare say she was thirty). Her dress (selon la cou- 
 tume du pays at least) rather elegant ; hair a la Grecque, 
 with a gold or gilt comb ; a silk shawl, twice as long as 
 a kitchen towel, thrown tastefully over her shoulders ; and 
 a beautiful corbcau gauze dress, here and there besprin- 
 kled with small tamboured sprigs of a light sky-blue. On 
 the banks of the Nile I wo,uld have given the world for 
 a musquito net of the like texture — (no doubt, under such 
 a web, one has to fear no stings). White satin shoes, of 
 course. A little foot ; as neat an arm ; black eyes, as 
 replete with sparkling rays as there are darts in Cupid's 
 quiver (and that's saying a good deal !) ; a countenance 
 full of Italian animation ; a complexion not brown enough 
 to prevent the transparency of nature's carmine ; a bosom 
 which, although unassisted by the legal canvas hemis- 
 pheres of the stay-maker, preserved a happy mean betwixt 
 
 negative 
 
 « See plate 8. 
 

177 
 
 negative pasteboard elevation and over-positive cook-shop 
 corpnlence. 
 
 Here I had better leave off, otherwise I shall grow too 
 anacreontic ('tis qnite another thing to describe living 
 objects and dead muses). To cool, however, the ardour 
 of my pen, I need only say a word or two of the lady's 
 husband; more, indeed, I suspect, cannot well be told 
 of him ; all about him seemed so neuter, tame, and un- 
 meaning, that the purpose of his creation remained in- 
 volved in considerable obscurity. People of his descrip- 
 tion are seldom absolutely ugly ; but here, nature seemed 
 to have deviated from her general rule : at least, his limbs 
 were so strangely put together, that if one or the other 
 possessed even any claim to individual regularity, yet cou- 
 pled as they were to very heterogeneous neighbours, the 
 tout- ensemble formed the oddest and most laughable ap- 
 pearance imaginable, forcibly reminding me of the ex- 
 ordium of Horace's Art of Poetry. A large plump cheeked 
 head stuck on a slender long neck, that again joined to 
 an emaciated breast, which terminated in a respectable 
 corpulency, defectively supported by a couple of legs of 
 the Doric order ; for the diameter of the base consider- 
 ably exceeded that of the upper part of the shafts. Of 
 the entablature and intercolumnium, I will not presume 
 to speak. Suffice it to say, that this hypergrotesque being 
 was rendered more conspicuous by its adherence to the 
 very latest fashion of the day. His gilet was no longer 
 than the short waist of madame ; but the nankeen small- 
 clothes had so much encroached on the domain of the 
 latter (I mean the waistcoat), that they had completely en- 
 grossed the protection of tlie abdominal regions, reaching, 
 if not to the chin, at least beyond the third rib. — For a 
 handsome woman, like Donna Anna, to have chosen such 
 a nondescript, remains to be explained by the physiolo- 
 
 A A gists. 
 
178 
 
 gists. If there was any choice in the case, it must have 
 been guided by a taste for the monstrous — (not unlikely !) 
 Perhaps his good-nature was not overlooked either. He 
 seemed passionately fond of his wife ; so much so, that he 
 delighted in the attention, however marked, paid to her by 
 the two French officers, the captain in particular, whose su- 
 periority of rank evidently kept the professions and demon- 
 strations of the lieutenant at a respectful distance. I was 
 glad to find, by this observation, the spirit of subordination 
 reviving in the French army ; presuming that if it was per- 
 ceptible among Frenchmen in regard to a icoman, it must, 
 a fortiori, exist in matters of a military nature. 
 
 I think it is time seriously to return to our pictures. My 
 polite remark on the excellence of Neapolitan music had at 
 once introduced me to the company of these strangers ; v/e 
 therefore proceeded conjointly to the next painting, which 
 represented a Centaur teaching a youth to play the lyre ; the 
 former, no doubt, Chiron — the latter, Achilles.* It is im- 
 possible to be too lavish in the praise of this masterly per- 
 formance : the delicate harmony in the contour of the youth, 
 the manly aspect of the Centaur, his attitude, the fanciful 
 and imperceptible junction of the horse to the man, charm 
 at first sight. If it were possible that such a being ever ex- 
 isted, it must have existed under this shape, Chiron's pos- 
 ture is remarkable ; he rests at his ease on the hams of his 
 hind legs, his fore legs being erect (as you frequently see 
 dogs sitting). Between the latter he holds the standing 
 Achilles, 'as a schoolmaster sometimes places the boy before 
 him. Except a short mantle over his shoulders, and the 
 sandals to his feet, Achilles is quite naked ; he touches the 
 lyre with his left, while his master plays on the same instru- 
 ment with a plectrum in his right hand (the accompanying 
 
 har- 
 
 • See plate 9, 
 
raoo 178. 
 
 AirCIElTT G-REEK FAIlTTIIfGS. FMOM HEKCITILAHTEITM. 
 
 I.jif.*.6. Ttrwsr^j- ir o.ff?iio.Th'Xi-f'9- ^^^- h,^-^- ^v r^f." 
 
 'hill '^rtl/. >t« . ^^ i- 
 
 
 /\ -£.-4 Cx^ 
 
 
 
^ 
 
179 
 
 harpeggios in all probability to the lad's rndqclj). lie like--, 
 wise has a cloak of the hairy skin of some animal thrown 
 over his shoulders^ and a crown of foliage round his temples. 
 
 Donna Anna admired the beauty of the Pelean hero^ but 
 she was shocked at the monstrous shape of th<i son of Phi- 
 lyra. — " Yet fabulous history/' I replied, "furnishes us with 
 several instances of ladies having- been captivated by the 
 charms of these odd beings, not to mention those that were 
 forcibly carried away by them, fond as they are reported to 
 have been of the fair sex." — *' Why, were there no Cen- 
 tauresses for them to pay their addresses to, without seizing- 
 upon Christians?" — ''Undoubtedly, madam, there were 
 such ; the picture you so much admired a little while ago, 
 actually represented a female Centaur." — Donna Anna as- 
 sured me she had not attended to the sex, adding, " Upon 
 second thoughts, I think if one could get over the objec- 
 tion of conformation, and the horrid idea of having such a 
 bed-fellow, a centauric spouse might not be amiss altoge- 
 ther. If my husband, for instance, were of that race, which 
 God forbid, 1 should never be at a loss for an airing. — 
 Wouldn't you, my dear, give your wife a ride along the 
 Chiaja when she liked to take a little exercise ?" " E comica 
 assai la mia moglie*/' replied the hon-homme of a husband, 
 laughing heartily at the idea of his being saddled and bri- 
 dled, like Apuleius's ass, for the diversion of his better 
 half. I laughed in my turn ; the French captain, who did 
 not seem to understand well what was said, laughed for ci- 
 vility, and his lieutenant for subordination's sake. We laugh- 
 ed altogether, and were going to pass to another subject, 
 when the captain, who probably wished also to say some- 
 thing piquant in his way, observed, v/ith an air of compla- ^ 
 cency, that there was a most striking likeness between the 
 
 features 
 
 * My wife is jocular indeed. 
 A A 3 
 
180 
 
 features of this Achilles and the premier consul. " Rien de 
 plus frappant," added the obsequious subaltern ; and the 
 husband expressed, his astonishment by a '' Cosa dimara' 
 viglla davvero* !" Although Bonaparte might well be the 
 father of the youth in the picture^ I observed, that in valour 
 and heroism they certainly resembled each other ; and, hi- 
 therto at least, in point of invulnerability likewise, which 
 Achilles possessed in every part of his body except the heels. 
 — " If the same were the case with Bonaparte," replied the 
 captain, *' he might be deemed invulnerable altogether ; he 
 never yet has shewn his heels to any of his enemies." — "Ex- 
 cept to the English at Acre," quickly rejoined Donna Anna, 
 noddino' to me with an arch smile and a siirnificant close of 
 her jet eyelashes. 
 
 '^^ Comment, madame ? Permettez moi de vous dire, s'il 
 avail voulu prendre la place, c'cut ete un dejeuner pour lui, 
 II en a pris d'autres bien plus folates." 
 
 " As it was," replied the witty signora, '^the preparations 
 for this dejeuner lasted some thirty or forty days ; a breakfast 
 of grapes, no doubt, the sourness of which was thought un- 
 worthy of reynard*s prudent palate. — Non e cosif ?" 
 
 It would have diverted you excessively, my dear T. to 
 have witnessed the irritation of the officer at this appendix of 
 the lady's raillery. His first consul could not have been more 
 enraged when he witnessed his grenadiers repulsed in the 
 most furious of their assaults. Monsieur kept furiously pa- 
 cing up and down the room aupas de charge, his left thrust 
 ao-ainst his hip, muttering, at every other step, ?i" comment," 
 or " nom de dieu." Don Ignazio, the poor husband, tried 
 in vain to appease his wrath, by pleading the ignorance of 
 his consort. He had better been silent ; the word "ignorance" 
 
 produced 
 
 * Wonderful iiulcL-d ! t Is it not so? 
 
181 
 
 produced a discord in the lady's ear, to which her skill in 
 matrimonial counterpoint instantly devised an appropriate 
 accompaniment, by calling' him a ciuccio*, una hestia, and 
 (probably by way of climax) un becco coimutof. 
 
 The latter expression, pregnant as it was with a world of 
 curiouspersonal information, had something novel, nay, cruel 
 in it. As well might a highwayman reproach the traveller 
 with his poverty after having robbed him of his purse ; al- 
 though it may be said in favour of the lady, that, instead of a 
 robbery, it was a donation she alluded to in this instance. 
 Be that as it may, all was now at cross purposes and confu- 
 sion, excepting your humble servant^ who had prudently re- 
 mained a passive observer of the tragi-comic scene ; perhaps 
 ungallantly enough, since the whole /r«c«s had certainly 
 originated in a compliment which the lady was courteous 
 enough to pay to British valour. Indeed, madame seemed 
 by no means pleased at my apathy ; and when she found it 
 impossible to enlist me in the combat by a few pantomimi- 
 cal hints, she addressed to me an open challenge : " Cosa 
 pare al signore, aggio detto la verita eh'^f" 
 
 '' The truth is, madame, that it betrays equally great ge- 
 neralship to abandon an enterprise at a seasonable time^ 
 when the advantages to be derived from its further prosecu- 
 tion are not likely to be commensurate with the sacrifices it 
 would require," 
 
 " C est precise ment cela, il y va de la politique de ne pas 
 pousse?^ les choses au dernier extreme,*' said the captain, join- 
 ing the company again. The lieutenant was perfectly of the 
 same opinion, and Don Ignazio conveyed his important ap- 
 probation under a " dice bene it Signor Inglese.'' At 
 
 * An elegant Neapolitan synonym for jackass. 
 
 t Would, for the comfort of English husbands, there were no translation for Ihii 
 «pithet in our language ! 
 
 '^ What do you think, good sir, have I spoken the trutliJ 
 
182 
 
 At all events;! did some good by the opportune remark I 
 had put in. All parties were again tolerably reconciled, e- 
 nough at least to resume the investigation of the exhibition. 
 The keeper, too, now gravely resumed his office, by observ- 
 ing, " That gentleman was saying just now that these Cen- 
 taurs had sometimes forcibly carried off females ; this picture 
 makes good his word ; please to step this way." 
 
 On taking a nearer view of the painting*, I was struck 
 with its beauty ; although the whole was but of one colour, 
 laid on in different shades, what we sometimes call the chi- 
 aroscuro, and what the ancients used to term the monochro- 
 matic style of painting. The prevailing tint was a dull red, 
 the lights flesh-colour, the shades brown. Another singular- 
 ity of this piece was its being painted on a marble slab, not, 
 like the others, on mortar or plaster. The whole consisted 
 of three figures, a Centaur in the middle, still grasping a 
 handsome female before him, but seized by the hair from 
 behind by a tall young man carrying a drawn sword, and 
 kneeling with one leg on the haunches of the Centaur, whom 
 he is going to dispatch ; an attitude most precisely and ele- 
 gantly described by Virgil — 
 
 '* Caesariem laeva turbati corruipit liosiis 
 
 •• Impressoque genu nitens terrae applicat ipsum." 
 
 Enough has already been said to enable you to guess at 
 the names of those figures. You will, no doubt, concur with 
 me, that the Centaur is no other than Eurytus running oflT 
 with Hippodamia, the wife of Pirithous, but overtaken and 
 killed by Theseus, the bosom friend of the latter. Ovid, it is 
 true, records his death in a different manner; but what does 
 it signify whether the lecherous monster had his brains 
 knocked out by a punch-bowl, or was put an end to by a 
 
 stab 
 
 * See plate 9. 
 
18S 
 
 stab of Theseus' sword ; so he had his due for runnings away 
 with another man's wife ! Excepting- the mode, Naso's lines 
 furnish the best comment on this picture : 
 
 ♦' Qaw te vecordia, Theseus 
 
 •' Eurjte pulsat, ait, qui me vivente lacessas 
 
 " Pirithoum ? violesque duos ignarus in uno ? 
 
 *' Neve ea magnanimus frustia memoraverit heros ; 
 
 *' Summovet iiistantes, raptain furentibus aufert, 
 
 " Ille nihil contra ; neque eiiim defendere verbis 
 
 •' Talia facta pofest : sed vindicis ora proterviu 
 
 ♦' InSequitur manibus, generosaque pectora puhat. 
 
 *• Forte fuit juxta signis extantibus asper 
 
 *' Antiquus crater, quern vastum vastior ipse 
 
 '* Substnlit Aegides, adversaque misit in ora. 
 
 " Sanguinis ille globus pariter cerebrumque merumquc 
 
 " Vulnere at ore vomens, madiJa resupinus arena 
 
 " Calcitrat.— 
 
 This Pirithous had ill luck with the fair sex ; although Hip- 
 podamia was restored to him by the valour of his friend^ she 
 died soon after ; and Theseus having lost his wife much 
 about the same time^ the two gentlemen carried off Helen 
 from Sparta : but in tossing up for her, the fair prize was 
 gained by Theseus, who generously offered to accompany 
 his friend into Tartarus, in order to steal for him nothing less 
 than Proserpine herself. But Pluto got scent of their drift, 
 both sparks were seized on their arrival in the infernal re- 
 gions, where Pirithous was forced to remain ever after. 
 
 Donna Anna, who examined the tableau with more than 
 female attention, discovered a new mythological fact. ''As 
 to this lady's being carried off forcibly," said she, *' the pic- 
 ture at all events tells a different tale. Don't you perceive 
 in her countenance her anguish at the impending fate of her 
 beloved charger? Oh fie ! look how she is begging for 
 the life of the equine seducer, instead (as a woman of cha- 
 racter ought to do) of assisting Theseus in revenging the in- 
 sult offered to her and her husband ! " 
 
 Her 
 
184 
 
 Her observation^ I assure you^, was strictly correct^ and 
 certainly did credit to the acutencss of her sex. She like- 
 Mise found great fault with Hippodamia's wedding dress, 
 which consisted of nothing- in the world but a petticoat^ the 
 upper half of her body being in a state of perfect nudity. 
 This sort of neglige, however^ Don Ignazio thought proper 
 to defend^ by observing, that the quarrel between the Cen- 
 taurs and the Lapith^e took place after supper ; and that in all 
 probability, therefore, the poor damsel was half undressed, 
 and ready to ascend the nuptial bed^ when she was seized 
 by the fierce Eurytus. 
 
 After a cursory glance over several paintings of minor im- 
 portance, we arrived before one which, notwithstanding its 
 superlative excellence, one might have supposed a lady 
 would have passed by, with, at least, affected indifference *. 
 Not that the bare subject could be termed strictly indecent, 
 but in the design, nay, even in the colouring, there was a 
 degree of amatory warmth which a British female would 
 have disdained noticing through any other medium than her 
 fansticks. Donna Anna's refined taste, however, rose supe- 
 rior to the usual delicacy of her sex, she courageously met 
 the foe face to face; and, sans ceremonie, required to be in- 
 formed of the import of the representation. — But you, my 
 dear T. shall know it first, however ungallant it may be to 
 leave the lady's curiosity in suspense for a moment. 
 
 A beautiful young Bacchante, with her thyrsus and cro- 
 talum, was resting from her revels in a sequestered spot on 
 a piece of rock, unconscious of the approach of an amorous 
 young Faun. In an instant he flings away his crook and 
 seven-tubed pipes, and seizes from behind upon the unsus- 
 pecting damsel ; with one hand he draws her head back- 
 wards, the other assists in the operation, and thus he has free 
 
 p^^y 
 
 * Secpl;ile7. 
 
185 
 
 play' to imprint Rfannish kiss on her blushing' cheeks; 
 
 not, mind! without as fair a portion of the lady's resistance 
 as is demanded by female decorum. Now that is all, believe 
 me ; but to describe the beauties of the design, the masterly 
 colouring, the contrast betw een the delicate snowy carnation 
 of the female, and the dark, yet not copper-coloured skin of 
 the sylvan spark ; the expression of lustful desire in the face 
 of the latter (which w^as not unlike the goat's in the livery-* 
 stable opposite our friend B's), and that of blushing surprise- 
 in the Bacchante's countenance^ it Avould be fruitless to 
 attempt. 
 
 ^' 1 believe, madam, it is a Fauu stealing a kiss from a 
 female Bacchante." 
 
 ^'Stealing? Ha! ha! ha!" (here the penetrating DomiE^. 
 Anna expressed her astonishment at my simplicity, by an 
 immoderate burst of laughter.) *"' Pray do tell me, good sir, 
 what is her right hand doing during this pretended robbery?" 
 
 " What else, but pushing off the head of the impudent 
 intruder?" 
 
 '" Oh ! better still ! so this hand which she has placed most 
 lovingly over the Faun's head is meant to push him mcai/ ? 
 Nay, now do speak the truth, sir, and tell us if you would 
 care to be pushed off in the same manner by a sweetheart 
 ofyour's? But, who knows, perhaps it is the fashion in 
 your country for ladies to ward off the attacks of gentlemen 
 in this way. There's no knowing, every country has its pe^ 
 culiar customs. — However, wait! my good husband shall 
 -decide the point ; he is a connoisseur, I assure you." 
 
 Don Ignazio felt greatly flattered at being called upon 
 (by his pai'tner for life too), tantas componere lites. After, 
 
 B B therefore 
 
186 
 
 therefore (avec respect), profusely salivating the bright floor 
 over his left shoulder^ selon la coutume du pai/s, and extri- 
 cating' his right hand from its fashionable resting place in 
 the nankeen hose^ in orcler the better to point at the object 
 of his comment^ he declared that, without being usually an 
 abettor of his wife's opinions (for which I gave him full cre- 
 dit), the position of the damsel's hand was such, that it must 
 either move or stand still ; if it moved, it must inevitably 
 draw the Faun's head to her, and if it did not,, it must leave 
 his head in its original place. 
 
 " Bravo! bravo!" exclaimed the captain. *' Bravo!'* 
 resounded the echo of the subaltern. — '' Benissrmo!" added 
 the lively signora, '^ see what it is to have a husband of 
 
 good parts, that has as much wit in his little finger as in 
 
 all his brain." The latter part of this compliment, it must 
 be said to her credit, was delivered con sordini. 
 
 " You interrupted me," " continued Don Ignazio, " be* 
 fore I had done. There is another thing to be observed. 
 This lady has thrown away her thyrsus and crotalum ; for 
 no other reason, I suspect, than to enjoy the frolic at her 
 ease ; she would otherwise have kept them for her defence. 
 'A crotalum appears to me an excellent weapon of defence, 
 which she might have used as a little shield, and with the 
 massy pine-apple-head of the thyrsus she might, if she had 
 chosen, have given the Faun a knock or two on the head, 
 which would, no doubt, have cooled his courage wonder- 
 fully." 
 
 This additional observation of Don Ignazio I thought not 
 amiss. It put me in mind of the young woman's pocket 
 handkerchief at one of our assizes. 
 
 We were on the point of takia^ our leave of the Faun, 
 
 when 
 
187 
 
 when our female antiquarian was called back by a new ob- 
 ject of her curiosity. This sylvan deity had, like every one 
 of his brethren, a pretty little tail, briskly cocked up in a 
 truly caprine attitude, to correspond with the state of mind 
 of its owner; but such was the delicacy of the chaste artist, 
 that this faunian appendix was rather indicated than dis- 
 tinctly pourtrayed, and, as the Faun's position was nearly 
 fronting'^ five ninths, at most, were visible to the spectator. 
 Yet, for all that, even such a trifle did not escape the argus 
 eye of Donna Anna, which I suspect of microscopic con- 
 struction in matters of such classic import. Instantly, there- 
 fore, five or six very intricate questions were addressed to 
 your humble servant, with all the volubility of the most eager 
 inquisitiveness ; to answer which, in a competent and sa- 
 tisfactory manner, nothing short of a dissertation de Fait- 
 novum et Satj/ronun caudiculis, earumque forma, usu ac 
 origine, would have fulfilled the lady's expectations of my 
 antiquarian abilities. For such an undertaking, however, 
 this was neither the time nor place. Under a promise, there- 
 fore, to treat this topic at large when I should again have 
 the honour of being in her society (for I had already politely 
 declined her pot-luck invitation for to-day) I began by 
 merely giving a cursory explanation of the matter, when 
 Don Ignazio, whether from a suggestion of his stomach, or 
 an innate aversion to the subject under discussion, looked at 
 his watch, excUiming, '' It is half past seventeen; we shall 
 be too late for dinner." — This opportune admonition instant- 
 ly adjourned the question. Madame as well as the officers 
 thought they had seen enough, and were for returning to 
 town immediately. They very kindly oflfered me a seat in 
 their carriage, which I thankfully accepted, as I had comQ 
 to Portici on foot in the morning, with the idea of spending 
 the best part of the day in the museum, taking my chance of 
 finding a dinner at my old landlord's with the night-cap ia 
 Kesiiia^ and returning at my ease iu the cool of the evening. 
 
 B B S Althoug-h 
 
IS8 
 
 Altlioiigli it was still early in the day, I confess to you, the 
 company I had been in, and what I had seen and heard 
 among them, diminished, in some measure, the classic zeal 
 with which I had begun my survey of these valuable trea- 
 sures, and with which I wished to investigate the whole. I 
 consequently determined to return on another early day, 
 and see the remainder at my leisure. Indeed, I think the 
 present day's task is not quite so contemptible (in quantity 
 I mean), allowing for the interruptions I had to encounter. 
 I have even examined many more paintings than what I 
 now describe; but on most of those my memoranda are 
 partly too laconic, and partly defective, or, indeed, illegible ; 
 and my memory is too confused among such a variety of 
 objects. In a future letter therefore, I may perhaps re- 
 sume this subject, the most interesting in my opinion, of any 
 I have yet reported upon to you. 
 
 On leaving the museum to get into the hackney vehicle of 
 Don Ignazio or the officers', we found the valet (a tempo- 
 rary one from his looks) sedulously employed in a game at 
 piquet with Jarvis, on the box ; but such is the attention of 
 servants in this part of the world, that, Avithout finishing the 
 game, he instantly whipt the sable pack of veterans into his 
 pocket, jumped down at one leap, handed loro eccellenze 
 into the antedeluvian conveyance, and with becoming gra- 
 vity, took his exalted station intherearj finishing the remnant 
 of his segar chemin feasant. 
 
 Disputes and quarrels among these lively people may fitly 
 be compared to the gales of wind that agitate at times their 
 surrounding seas. Both are violent and boisterous while 
 they last, but, happily, their duration is short. — Cordiality 
 had resumed her empire over the recently ruffled spirits of 
 my fellow travellers, an uninterrupted flow of gay conver- 
 sation, occasionally supported by contributions from the pi- 
 quet 
 
189 
 
 qiiet virtuoso in tlie rear, carried us swiftly to town. At the 
 Torre del Carmine I took leave of my new acquaintance, 
 and made the best of my way through the narrow windings 
 of the old city to my first quarters^ Madame Gasse's, the 
 remnants of whose table d' hofe afforded a hearty dinner to 
 my keen appetite. After a stroll to the Thuilleries in the 
 evenings and a fashionable circuit to two or three ice-cellars, 
 I went to the opera, to see the new piece '" II Ballone Aero- 
 statico." Of all the ludicrous things I ever saw, the quartett, 
 between two people in the balloon half way up in the air, and 
 two on terra firma below^ had the most whimsical effect. 
 
 I promised faithfully to Donna Anna to pay her my res- 
 pects very soon, and I mean to be as good as my word^ for 
 fun's sake. The me/i«o"e of that couple must needs afford 
 much curious matter for observation ; and, ifso^ entertain- 
 ing materials for an official prods verbal to my good friend. 
 I do not hunt after adventures, but when they fall into one's 
 way, why not catch them '' as they rise?" To pry into men 
 and maners is to me more entertaining and profitable than 
 to count the brickbats of shapeless old ruins. Adieu. 
 
 « « « « « 
 
 LETTER XII, 
 
 Naples, ■ , 1802. 
 
 My dear Friend, 
 
 MY time and my researches in this country are equi- 
 tably divided between the relics of its ancient inhabitants, 
 the manners and actions of its present race, and the pleasing 
 task of retracing my observations on both, through the ve- 
 hicle of my official reports to you and my friends in England. 
 Do keep them carefully against my return! for I am drawing 
 
 so 
 
190 
 
 so fast on the credit Mr. P. had the goodness to a,«si*5n 
 to me^ that unless some scheme for raising the wind 
 be put in execution as soon as 1 get back, there is little 
 doubt but the last stage of my travels will be to a place of 
 retirement in St. George' s-fields. You guess my intention, 
 I dare say! I must turn author par force : these letters must 
 bring me what they have stood me in, and more too. What 
 there is of them already, will go a great way when they 
 come to be printed in quarto, with three or four inches of 
 handsome margin every way: besides, they will bear a good 
 deal of amplification. They are miserably defective in moral 
 and sentimental disquisitions. Those, I am told, may be 
 had reasonably with you; I wish to have the very best, 
 therefore don't mind a trifling difi>!rence in price. The moral 
 character of the inhabitants of this part of the globe must, 
 above all, be depicted in the blackest colours. By so doing, 
 right or wrong, the work will at once become fashionable 
 and piquant, the author be thought a saint, and the reader, 
 with emotions of self-complacent pride, will like the Pha- 
 risee, exclaim — '' God, I thank thee that I am not as other 
 men are !" A little sprinkling of poetry too, here and tiiere, 
 but especially at the top of each letter would look vastly 
 pretty. — Yon can get that done for me likewise, I dare say. 
 For entertaining anecdotes we shall not be at a loss ; some 
 few we surely may contrive to imagine ourselves, and the 
 remainder must be horrcnced (in a new dress of course) from 
 some Italian book of jests which I shall take care to bring 
 with me. The historical, political, and statistical digressions 
 w ill likewise have to be taken upon tick : we shall borrow 
 them from Guthrie, Busching, and some Cyclopaedia. Bor- 
 rowing is no robbery. What harm is there in lighting from 
 a great luminary a modest taper, to illumine the path of 
 knowledge for our fellow beings? — Harm? — Why merit, 
 the greatest of all merit. As to prints and pictures, the most 
 important part of a travelling w ork, we shall do admirably, 
 
 I have 
 
191 
 
 I have already sent you two or three^ and have by me six or 
 seven more. They are, it is true, done in outline only, but 
 any drawing-master will shade them for a trifle. ' Wliat does 
 it signify which way the sun shines upon them, whether from 
 the right or left? And if the man has any ingenuity, he will 
 know where to put in a group of trees, a romantic fragment 
 of rock, a ruinous arch or two, or some pieces of broken 
 shafts and capitals, &c. all for thesake of eflect. — Effect, my 
 dear T. is every thing, in painting, as well as in poetry ; to 
 that, truth and every other consideration must yield : things 
 are to be represented, not as they are, but as they might or 
 ought to be. What would, for instance, the siege of Troy 
 be, if related by one of your matter-of-fact gentlemen? An 
 insipid squabble of some obscure barbarian tribes, like the 
 petty quarrels among the South-Sea Indians; the grand 
 fleet of tlie Greeks, a parcel of portable canoes ; the city of 
 Troy with Priam's palaces, a cluster of miserable wooden 
 huts, and the famous river Simoi's no better than our Fleet- 
 ditch. The magic hand of fancy, therefore, must be called 
 in aid of our drawings ; and instead of having them executed 
 in the line manner, we shall resort to aquatinta. The for- 
 mer is not only too expensive, but it requires too much of 
 troublesome, prosaic correctness; whereas, by the latter 
 method, we shall have the advantage of confused indistinct- 
 ness. The broad masses of shade will hide our defects; we 
 shall lay it on thickly wherever we are at a loss for minute 
 •detail. — You might, therefore render yourself further useful 
 to our great undertaking, if in your strolls you would take 
 an occasional opportunity of visiting the Italian print-shops 
 in London, and collect designs and views of the places 
 which I have visited, or, indeed, which I have not. So you 
 have the views, I shall in my narrative contrive to have been 
 there. It is as easy to describe a print as a real view ; nay, 
 easier for one who is as short-sighted as I am ; and you have 
 the additional advantage, that the description will much 
 more closely correspond with the design. 
 
192 
 
 XVe shall do_, never fear ! the work will go through a se-- 
 cond and third edition. I shall have my money back with 
 interest, enjoy British comforts for a year or two, and have 
 enough left toundertake a second trip to some other region : 
 write a second book on that; travel again, and write a third ; 
 and so on, till like the Macedonian hero, nothing be left me 
 but a wishful glance at the moon, and a regret at the impos- 
 sibility of visiting it likewise and writing a lunar Tour. 
 What endless, what enchanting prospects ! ! 
 
 From this beguiling tissue of anticipated futurity, let us 
 make a retrogade movement into the realms of sober sublu- 
 nary reality. — I mean now to present you with a Neapolitan 
 tableau dcfamUle. Our scene lies in the environs of S\ Te- 
 resa di Chiaja. The principal Dramatis Persons are, your 
 humble servant, Don Ignazio, and his lovely spouse, Donna 
 Anna, whose acquaintance you recollect I made in the pic- 
 ture gallery at Portici. Curiosity, and my pledge to you, in- 
 duced me to execute the promise I had given to visit this odd 
 couple ; and according to a laudable practice of mine, I de- 
 termined not to go with empty hands. Presents, I have 
 found by experience, are a most powerful introduction with 
 mankind in general ; and with the fair sex above all, their 
 effect is next to magical, far beyond that of fine words, an 
 elegant person, or even a good constitution. A silver-bladed 
 fruit-knife being therefore deemed an appropriate passport 
 on the present occasion, my old acquaintance, the retailer 
 of English goods at the top of Strada Toledo, sold me the 
 very thing, morocco case included, for two silver ducats, 
 that is to sav, two or three shillin£rs below what I could have 
 bought it for in London itself Thus armed, I went last 
 monday in quest of Don Ignazio's residence ; but, after half 
 an hour's most troublesome search, had the disappointment 
 to be informed by an old servant-maid, that both master and 
 mistress had gone out for the evening. The day before yes- 
 terday 
 
193 
 
 terday I again set out a full hour sooner^ ascended once more 
 through darkness visible, the six flights of lava staircase, from 
 corner to corner impregnated with phosphoric efliuvia, un- 
 til I had got nearly to my journey's end, when, oh contrast 
 olivine! the hartshorn atmosphere gradually gave way to a 
 most fragrant odour of roses, such as vernal zephyrs waft 
 from Paphian fields to welcome the devout pilgrims to Ana- 
 dyomene's shrine. Inspirited as I felt by so happy an omen, 
 an unfortunate fit of philosophical speculation at that 
 moment suggested the Leibnitzian axiom of a '' sufficient 
 cause." What, in the name of goodness, had I to do with 
 the '''' sufficient cause" of this unexpected smell? Why, in- 
 stead of minding my feet, must an ill-timed paroxysm of 
 meditation raise my head at the very instant my left foot slip- 
 ped over a rose-bud on the staircase, casting the center of 
 gravity so far backwards as to be no longer master of the equi- 
 poise of my matter? Down I came, w^ith one sudden plunge, 
 on my left knee, instantly laid bare by a fissure in the nan- 
 keen pantaloons. (Of this we must have a print!) The 
 perturbed state of the fluttering molecules of my brain at 
 that moment, would have roused the pity of my bitterest 
 enemies. I am not superstitious ; but such an accident, so 
 analogically ominous, a Scipio himself would not have dared 
 to brave. A retreat w as immediately resolved upon, and ac- 
 tually commenced, when a " Santissima Vergine I" uttered 
 from the head of the stairs by the servant-maid, who had pro- 
 bably hcM'd the crash, arrested my descent. " Her master 
 was out — Donna Anna at home, but had fallen asleep in her 
 arm-chair." — New difficulties ! What right had I to break 
 the fair slumberer's rest? And yet, if, after a tedious walk of 
 two miles from beyond St. Efrem Nuovo, on the very top of 
 the Infrescata, to S^^- Teresa di Chiaja, I w^as stoic enough to 
 depart re infecta, and persevering enough to undertake a 
 third trip, what chances would there not be to have again 
 
 c c my 
 
194 
 my walk for my pains ? Does not friend Horace say, 
 
 Rupiamus amici 
 Occasionem de die 
 Duin virtut ginua. 
 
 Unfortunate quotation ! The wag-, I am positive^ is mak- 
 ing- game of my poor knee. Let him ! I shall neither dis- 
 turb the sleeping- beauty nor mope off. There is a middle 
 course to steer 
 
 Inter utrumque tene, medio tutissimus ibis. 
 
 Hush ! on tip-toe light I stole through the half-open door, 
 shut after me by the discreet duenna, who, familiar with the 
 rude construction of the ricketty lock, suspended with a tight 
 hold its noisy clash. 
 
 Before I proceed, suppose I describe, in two or three 
 words, the apartment, which I had now full leisure to sur- 
 vey minutely. Two windows at the further end, the door 
 opposite ; against the middle of one of its long sides stood a 
 •wainscot commode, covered with papers of spread rose leaves, 
 all but a small spot, on which was placed a glass case, con- 
 taining a waxen image of religious import, surrounded with 
 a variety of ornaments of tinsel, artificial flowers, shells, and 
 moss ; above that, a large cracked looking-glass, the yellow 
 varnish of whose silvered frame was a bad apology for its 
 sister metal ; in the corner I observed a tall, old triangular 
 walnut-tree buffet, with glass doors and curtains : an old 
 piano-forte against the opposite wall was likewise the bearer 
 of seven or eight papers filled with more rose-leaves ; and, 
 over it, hung suspended the full-length portraits of Signor 
 Don Ignazio, his ftef^e?' half, and a little boy, which I presume 
 he called his own. Haifa dozen old-fashioned chairs,a sofa 
 to match, a guitar, and a chesnut table, composed the next 
 lot. The most modern piece of furniture was undoubtedly 
 Signora Anna sitting before the table. From the scissars on 
 
 the 
 
195 
 
 the floor^ and the little basket on one side, her occupation 
 previously to the visitation of Morpheus might be guessed at. 
 She had been cutting and folding papers for powder-doses. 
 NoWj the roseate smell on the staircase remained no longer 
 a mystery ; and, to judge by the apparatus of the leaves, 
 and the provident supply of powder papers, her caro sposo 
 belonged to the medical staff of the Parthenopian metropolis. 
 
 I seated myself composedly vis avis the industrious slum- 
 berer, and, pour passer le temps, with much assiduity 
 began folding the ready-cut papers according to pattern, 
 casting, from time to time, a modest glance at my opposite 
 neighbour, and observing on her countenance the undulating 
 motion of the shadow of some dwarf orange trees on a neigh- 
 bouring /oggm *, intercepting the rays of the evening sun. 
 Thus did the goddess of chastity herself, in a woody recess 
 of the Carian hills, gaze with silent admiration on the serene 
 countenance of slumbering Endymion ; or Bacchus behold, 
 on Naxo's rocky shore, the fair daughter of Minos, reproach- 
 ing, in her dreams, her treacherous seducer. 
 
 Gazing is tedious too ! ! I had already folded papers for 
 more powders than a London apothecary would deem a suf- 
 ficient recompence for a visit to one of his most distant pa- 
 tients, and no change had yet ensued in this truly innocent 
 iete-a-tete. Fate, however, had decreed it should become 
 more harmless still. The sameness of my occupation, the 
 fatigue of my walk in the early part of the afternoon, the 
 heat of the apartment, and, what I believe to be the prin- 
 cipal cause, the overpowering effluvia of two or three Win- 
 chester bushels of rose-leaves, began to usurp a soporific sway 
 over the lax nerves of your humble servant. To you I con- 
 fess it, sleep involuntarily seized my frame f. 
 
 c c 2 Now 
 
 * -i^ofC'a) a kind of balcony or terrace, adjoining the house, f See plate 10. 
 
196 
 
 Now I reflect on the occurrence, I cannot forbear smiling 
 at the hidicrous oddity of this novel tete-a-tele. I came to 
 pay a first visit to this lady, and, lo ! before we have ex- 
 changed an articulated syllable, both are doomed to perform 
 a snoring- duet. God knows how long the concert lasted ! 
 All I can tell is, that Donna Anna had finished before me. 
 I was awakened by the dulcet sound of the following lines^ 
 tastefully accompanied on the guitar * : 
 
 Se fanto a me j)iace 
 
 Si rarabclta, 
 lo pcrdero la pace, 
 
 Quando si sveglcra^ 
 
 Neurit/ thus : 
 
 If, while entranced in balmy re-.t. 
 His charms can give such pain. 
 
 When he awakes, my wounded breast 
 Will ne'er know peace again. 
 
 The fib aside, nothing certainly could be more a-propos. I 
 was going to rise and express my gratitude for so neat a 
 compliment, when the recollection of the probable exposure 
 of the fractured nankeen, checked for a moment my gallant 
 ardour. This^ however, I found means to put under a tem- 
 porary eclipse by a loose suspension of my handkerchief; 
 and now I was enabled to behave altogether like a gen- 
 tleman. 
 
 Ah! my dear T. if the creeping motion of my dull pen 
 possessed but a tenth part of the lingual velocity of this Nea- 
 politan lady ; if, moreover I could infuse into my tramon- 
 tane narrative the spirit and sprightliness of her conversation, 
 I would attempt giving you a faithful abstract of her dia- 
 logue, sure as I am that even the second-hand delivery would 
 delight you . It was natural to enquire after the health of the 
 husband. This, as I presently found, proved an unfortunate 
 
 string 
 
 * See Frontispiece. 
 
197 
 
 string I had touched upon, a theme in a minor key^ upon 
 which the good lady contrived to execute an endless number 
 of variations and voluntaries. She began by replying', 
 " He is better than lie deserves to be! ! Stingy niiser, every 
 thing under lock and key! What a situation, not to be able 
 to offer any thing to a person of your merit! But all his 
 cunning shall avail hitn nothing." — Here the ingenious Don- 
 na Anna proceeded to the buffet, by introducing a knife 
 through the interstices at the top and bottom of one of the 
 folding-doors, shifted the bolts, and vigorously pulling both 
 wings, readily opened the buffet, in spite of the pretended 
 security of the lock. Cakes and diluted raspberry syrup were 
 now in abundance, and the latter proved an excellent sum- 
 mer refreshment. — '' It'sof his own manufacture," continued 
 Donna Anna. " He is as clever an apothecary as any in 
 the kingdom, earns a mint of money, and yet starves his wife. 
 When I ask him for cash, he stares at me as if the house were 
 on fire, enquires if what he gave me yesterday was gone al- 
 ready, and, in his generosity, parts with a few cavalli*; 
 notj how ever, without the most serious injunction to be more 
 saving. He and the little one dine at the shop in town on 
 good cheer, while the old woman and myself must put up with 
 all sorts of vile trash of his own catering. Lettuce, cucum- 
 bers, onions, and stale maccaroni, which he knows I loath the 
 sight of, are the order of the day w ith us ; and, to whet my 
 appetite for these dainties, he has the generosity every now 
 and then to bring home a box of stomachic pills, which I 
 flins: out at the window as soon as he has turned his back. 
 
 I interrupted the flow of the injured fair one's eloquence, 
 by assuring her that the appearance of health in her coun- 
 tenance and person indicated by no means the abstemious 
 regimen she complained of; and that, at all events, Don Ig- 
 
 nazio 
 
 * Neapolitan copiier coin. 
 
198 
 
 nazio appeared, from all I had perceived at our late meetings 
 a most attentive and affectionate husband in every other res- 
 pect, so that the single failing of an over-economical dispo- 
 sition seemed fully counterbalanced by his other good qua- 
 lities. It would'nt do. 
 
 " That's just what vexes me. His pride prompts him, 
 and his cunning enables him, to behave to me in the most 
 loving manner, whenever we are among other people ; you 
 would think him the milk of human kindness, a very angel, 
 all generosity, fondness, and submission ; but no sooner are 
 we alone, than the picture is changed in an instant. Haifa 
 yard of new ribbon is enough to make him look as black as 
 thunder. His hawk's eye will spy a new pin. He will ask 
 a thousand questiwis, when I got it? how 1 came by it ?".... 
 
 " He is not jealous, surely?" 
 
 " Would to heaven he were ! He is perfectly indifferent 
 as to what I am doing, so it brings on no expence ; he is 
 jealous of notliing but his pelf You would scarcely credit 
 his meanness : my own clothes he locks up from me. Not 
 satisfied with the little he gives me, he rifles my pockets in 
 the night when I am asleep, steals his own money, and 
 gives it me twice over again. I have caught him at that: 
 I marked one evening the pieces I had, missed them in tlie 
 morning, and received them again at breakfast. What do 
 you say to that!" 
 
 " a vuoV pacienza *," 
 
 *' Patience indeed ! and bushels of it ! Excuse the freedom 
 I take in troubling you with my grievances; it does one good 
 
 to 
 
 * You aiust have patience. 
 
199 
 
 to uiibiirthen one's mind ; it is the only comfort left when 
 there is no hope of redress. I mentioned all this/and much 
 more to our confessor, who gave him a severe lecture for it : 
 but what of that? Ever since that moment he has taken to 
 another priest, who suits himself better to his disposition." 
 
 Not to appear absolutely indifferent to this good lady's 
 troubles, I expressed to her how much I felt for them, and 
 how happy I should be to have but a hint of the means by 
 which it might possibly be in my power to relieve them. To 
 this I received no other reply than a shrug of the shoulders, 
 which might be interpreted various ways. She now seemed 
 involved in melancholy reflections ; to dispel which, I took 
 a new ground. In order to try whether she was completely 
 unhappy in her own opinion, a thing I much doubted, I 
 asked if she w as conscious of no one good quality in the 
 character of Don Ignazio. 
 
 " No one good quality you say, good sir? Why that 
 would be. miserable indeed ! Say, rather, no bad one, ex- 
 cept his extreme stinginess and his abominable partiality to 
 garlick. He is sober, faithful to the marriage bed, complai- 
 sant in every thing not requiring pecuniary sacrifice, and, at 
 bottom; sincerely attached to me, as I have had an opportu- 
 nity of convincing myself in my last illness. Five succes- 
 sive nights did the poor devil sit up by my bedside. In ad- 
 dition to his own professional attendance, I had twice a day 
 the advice of two of our first physicians. Nothing that 
 could be got was too expensive for him then. As soon as I 
 began to recover, such was his joy, that gowns, lace, and 
 trinkets, came in faster than the medicines while I was ill. 
 That beautiful comb you saw in my hair at Portici, solid 
 gold as it is, and beset with pearls, every one of which cost 
 a ducat, he gave me on that occasion ; and two days after- 
 wards he brought me a.most valuable diamond cross, which 
 
 you 
 
200 
 
 you shall see when he comes home;, for he keeps every thing 
 under lock and key. I really one time flattered myself he 
 had totally changed his nature. But I soon found my mis- 
 take ; as I got better, he got worse : and no sooner was I 
 quite well, than I found him as bad as ever; so that, droll 
 as you may think it, without a little illness now and then, I 
 should soon be starved to death. But, as you are pleased 
 to say, every one has his failings ; and, if it were known, 
 more perhaps are worse, than better than he : patience, 
 therefore, is the best remedy. What's the use of repining at 
 a thing you cannot alter. Come, sir, you seemed pleased 
 with the little song I awoke you with ; I'll give you the 
 whole of it, and you shall sing me one in return afterwards." 
 
 I was more pleased, to own the truth, at the favourable turn 
 which the state of Donna Anna's mind had taken in so short 
 a time, and inwardly proud of being the author of so sudden 
 a change. But such, my dear T. really is the character of 
 this lively and sincere race of people, in the space of ten 
 minutes their temperament admits of being miserable, and 
 again completely happy. Dissimulation, generally speak- 
 ing, riiey are perfect strangers to. 
 
 Donna Anna now sung the little air, " Sid margine d'un 
 rio," with such tasteful simplicity, and accompanied her fine 
 voice with such w ell selected chords of harpeggios, as to con- 
 vey no mean idea of her proficiency in music. We are asto- 
 nished at the meretricious tirades of a prima donna, by which 
 she endeavours to drown the simple melodies of a Salieri, 
 Paesiello, or Cimarosa, in order to shew her skill to greater 
 advantage ; but the tasteful delivery alone of the simple 
 strains of a good composer finds its way to our heart and 
 our feelinii:s. Donna Anna's sons: was worth to me all the 
 bravura's of a Mara or Banti. When it came to my turn, I 
 proposed to sing a duet, which was agreed to. She yjro- 
 
 duced 
 
SOI 
 
 duced the charming* duet from the '' Cosarara," and offered 
 to play the accompaniment on the piano-forte. This proved 
 a great treat to me; indeed, often as I have heard it on the 
 best of stages, I never liked it so well as this time, when I 
 was a party concerned in tiie performance. 
 
 A side look of Donna Anna's, accompanied by an 
 •arch smile, discovered to me her knowledge of the effects 
 of my fall on the staircase, which my vocal ardour during 
 the duet had prevented me from concealing sufficient- 
 ly. An explanation ensued, and her kind offer of admi- 
 nistering temporary repair to my misfortune, ill breeding 
 alone could have declined. Needle and silk being procured 
 in an instant, I proposed, in order to prevent her stooping, 
 to stand on a chair. But this she w ould by no means permit ; 
 I must sit on the sofa ; and the attentive Donna Anna, in a 
 graceful attitude, knelt down before me. During the oper- 
 ation, I could not help admiring her head of hair, which 
 would have been of a jet black, had it not been for nu- 
 merous minute elliptical impurities, which, on so close an in- 
 spcdtion, gave it rather a pepper and salt appearance. A 
 discovery like this might refrigerate the warmth of admira- 
 tion in one of your hyper-sentimental beings of 52 north 
 latitude. To me, who know the effects of a hot climate, 
 and am in a manner acclimatized, the circumstance was fa- 
 miliar from repeated previous observations of the same na- 
 ture, and therefore proved no sort of check or alterative, 
 Kil admirari, nil vUupe7^nre^ is the golden motto of a cosmo- 
 politan traveller. 
 
 Donna Anna had not yet accomplished her friendly ofhce, 
 when a gentle rap at the door fi*om the discreet old servant, 
 accompanied with a '' Mnio' ven ho padron," announced 
 the arrival of the master of the house. '' Che vengapure*/' 
 
 replied 
 
 * Let him come. 
 D D 
 
202 
 
 replied the wife, unwilling to discontinue the good work 
 she had begun. In the respective attitudes, therefore, above 
 descril)ed, the husband found us on entering the apartment 
 w ith his little boy. His fat face instantly assumed the looks — 
 not of jealous anger — but of the most unequivocal transports 
 of joy. " Chist e una gracia * .'" exclaimed he with delight, 
 throwing his arms across my shoulders, and osculating my 
 poor cheeks at a terrible rate. The savour of this salute 
 amply proved the truth of one of the two accusations his 
 wife had lodged against him. 
 
 " My dear, why did you not send for me? I hope you 
 have entertained the gentleman, according to his merits, in 
 my absence. Nicola, fa la riverenza al Signor Inglcse," 
 continued he to the child, at whose odd appearance 1 could 
 scarcely refrain from laughing. Conceive an infant, of per- 
 haps five years, dressed precisely in the miniature costume 
 of a man of five-and-twenty. His powdered curls were 
 forced into a little pig-tail of the length of my little finger; 
 coat, waiscoat, and pantaloons, were all of the cut of a grown 
 person ; and to complete the dwarf-like appearance of the 
 old-fashioned little monkey, a pair of hussar boots graced 
 his lower extremities. On enquiring if Master Nicola was 
 the whole of his family, I w as informed that he had had an- 
 other, which I should see when I came to visit his shop. 
 
 Not a word was said respecting the pilfered cakes and 
 syrup ; on the contrary, Don Ignazio found great fault with 
 his wife for not treating me with some wine out of his cellar, 
 till she observed on the impossibility of so doing, when he 
 had the keys of every thing, 
 
 " Have I?" fumbling in his pockets. ^' You are right. 
 
 What 
 
 * Ttis is a favour, &c. 
 
203 
 
 What an unfortunate mistake! But all in good time; you 
 shall taste some of the wine of my own country, such as you 
 will not easily meet with in this city." So saying', he dis- 
 appeared, and soon returned with both hands full of bottles 
 and Bologna sausages. The wine he gave us to taste ap- 
 peared old and mellow ; it was of the growth of the princi- 
 pality of Farther Abruzzo, whence he came, but certainly 
 not to be compared to the wine of my friend Don Giacomo^ 
 of Pozzuoli, 
 
 Before the arrival of Don Ignazio, I conceived it improper 
 to come forward with my little present; at one time, indeed, 
 I had a good mind to keep it to myself. Now I thouglit 
 was the time to produce it with an appropriate introduc- 
 tion of letter-press. Donna Anna seemed delighted with 
 this trifling mark of attention; and, before her husband, 
 very handsomely said, she hoped it might last as long as she 
 should remember the giver. " That," added Don Ignazio, 
 '' I am sure it will not, if you have the keeping of it ; and 
 therefore propose taking care of it myself, by putting it with 
 the rest of your trinkets." — " What!" replied the astonished 
 spouse, lock tliat up too?" Surely you would not put such 
 an affront on this gentleman, who intended it as a keep- 
 sake for me." — " A keep-sake it shall be," again retorted the 
 husband: " under my charge I can answer for its safety." 
 Called upon by a wink of the lady to interfere in this matter, 
 I begged it as a particular favour, that the knife might re- 
 main in Donna Anna's possession, since, otherwise, the pur- 
 pose of the trifling gift w ould be defeated ; and my request, 
 for that evening at least, had the desired effect. 
 
 A young man, of about tvv^enty years of age, and of a pre- 
 possessing countenance and exterior, now stepped in, and 
 was introduced by Donna Anna under the name of Don Carlo 
 Rivetta, ^' Evviva !" exclaimed Don Ignazio, whose pa- 
 
 D D 3 triotism 
 
204 
 
 triotism probably had induced him to make frequent liba- 
 tionsof the Abruzzian grape juice^ " this is the very man we 
 want. You see, sir, one of the best dancers in the two 
 kingdoms ; and if you are fond of the sport, we shall muster 
 a little ball in a few minutes." 
 
 I professed my willingness to become a spectator, but de- 
 clined joining in the pastime, alledging my boots and the 
 state of my health as an excuse. 
 
 " For the first I have an instant remedy," answered our 
 jovial host ; you shall have a pair of my shoes ; and as to 
 your health, appearances at all events are against your asser- 
 tion or belief. Permit me to feel your pulse. One, two, 
 
 three, four .... Why, my good sir, give me leave to as- 
 sure you, if all the people of Naples were as well as you 
 appear to me, (and I flatter myself I know something about 
 the matter), I and my colleagues should starve presently — 
 Pray who is your physician here?" 
 
 " Dr. ." 
 
 '* That coxcomb? Why that fellow has killed more peo- 
 ple than I have cured. Pray does he not prescribe to you 
 
 calomel and steel-rust? Aye, I thought so ; he has but 
 
 one remedy for every disease. If you'll follow my advice, 
 sir, get rid of that quack as soon as possible ; and if you really 
 complain of that pain in your right side, allow me to recom- 
 mend you a remedy, which is a simple, and certainly a disinter- 
 ested one. Put a ha,ndful of garlick into a bottle of old white 
 wine, and take a small glass full every morning fasting. It 
 will remove every obstruction in your biliary ducts, create a 
 proper and vigorous bile, act as a tonic on your stomach, 
 and give new energy to every one of the abdominal viscera. 
 In less than a week you will be convinced of what I say. 
 Garlick, my dear sir, is an invaluable medicine for almost 
 
 every 
 
^05 
 
 every complaint, and I firmly believQ, if its virtues were duly 
 appreciated, we should want very few other drugs, and people 
 probably might do without doctors or apothecaries. I take 
 it in its crude state both at breakfast and dinner, and solely 
 ascribe to this practice the good state of health in which I 
 have the honour of being seen by you now ; and which, 
 thank God, I have enjoyed without interruption these eight 
 years and more. — But, to return to our plan. Come, Ann, 
 get my cordovan pumps for the gentleman, and finish the 
 few stitches in his pantaloons, while I go down stairs to enlist 
 a few recruits for our party. Old Tursi shall come and play 
 the guitar for us." 
 
 Although I was sure Don Ignazio's pumps would rather 
 fit one of the giants in Guildhall than my feet, yet I submit- 
 ted good-humouredly to the metamorphosis. Donna Anna 
 in some measure remedied the difficulty by passing through 
 the holes, besides the shoe-strings, a long sky-blue ribbon, 
 which she wound by checkered crossings round my leg, up 
 to the calf, thus tying the pumps to the leg. I looked for all 
 the world like an opera-dancer. 
 
 While thus employed about my person, her little urchin 
 ' thought proper to amuse himself with a bone syringe which 
 in all likelihood he had purloined from his father's shop : he 
 conceived it probably very witty to make the Signor Inglese 
 the principal butt of his hydrodynamic experiments : for no 
 sooner, did I turn my head, than souse came a copious irri- 
 gation of the pure element over my neck, waiscoat, and nan- 
 keens, a transgression for which the mother instantly sent 
 him to bed with a farewel box on the ear by way of a good- 
 Right, making a thousand apologies for the boy's imperti- 
 nence, and protesting that it was only since his father took 
 him to town every day that he had learnt all sorts of inso- 
 lence and rudeness. 
 
 Th<^ 
 
S06 
 
 The few local arrangements^, thought of to gain room for 
 the impending diversion were just completed, when Don Ig- 
 nazio returned with the respectable reinforcement of three 
 more ladies, the mother and two daughters, tenants of the 
 lower part of the house, and a hump-backed little being 
 with a guitar nearly as big as himself After a most pompous 
 introduction to these new visitors, in which our host vouch- 
 safed to grant me the promotion of colonello nel servizio di 
 sua maesta il re delta Gran Bretagna, we set to work im- 
 mediately on a country-dance. My steps were univei-sally 
 admired ; indeed I am confident I never danced better in 
 my life. The ligature round my legs imparted to them a 
 wonderful degree of spring and vigour, and looked altoge- 
 ther pretty. As to Don Ignazio, poor man, he did wonders 
 likewise. His legs, with every symptom of dropsy, exhibited 
 a respectable degree of agility ; but his enormous calves, 
 like blubber or jelly, shook from right to left at every touch 
 of the ground. Don Carlo was a second Didelot, and Donna 
 Anna's steps were grace and elegance itself In a little time 
 we received an accession of strength in the arrival of three 
 or four neighbours, so that at last there were nearly a dozen 
 of us. Country dances, cotillions, and menuets a qiiutre, 
 succeeded each other in turn ; but of all, nothing pleased me 
 more than the saltarella of Don Carlo and the lady of the 
 house. This is a national dance of the Neapolitans, more 
 distinguished by the gracefulness of its steps and attitudes, 
 than by any intricacy of figures or great quickness of motion. 
 I would fain have given them a hornpipe in return, but 
 could not for the world beat the tune into old Thersitcs* 
 head. 
 
 About midnight our host proposed to sup. The cloth 
 was laid in an instant, every one lending a hand. The 
 " stingy" Don Ignazio treated us with a profusion of three 
 or four different sorts of delicious shell-fish, Bologna sausa- 
 
^7 
 
 geSj salad of anchovies^, &c. and plenty of his Abriizzo wine, 
 uttering a thousand apologies for the mediocrity of his hasty 
 entertainment. I never saw a man eat and drink so much, 
 and with such glee. His partner too appeared as if she 
 providently intended to lay in a stock for a few banyan days 
 to come. Her repletion, however, did not prevent her from 
 favouring the company with two or three songs; but she 
 certainly performed better with an empty stomach. Don 
 Carlo likewise gave us some beautiful airs, executed in a 
 charming style, and with one of the best voices I ever heard. 
 That man kncAV almost every opera by heart. You would 
 have thought him a singer by profession, not a clerk at the 
 Vicaria *, which I afterwards understood him to be. 
 
 It was past two when we broke up, and now nothing would 
 do but Don Ignazio would see me home. I urged in vain 
 the immense distance and my perfect knowledge of the way. 
 " You don't know," replied he, " the insecurity of our 
 streets at night ; we have a number of desperate felloWs in 
 this city, and I should never forgive myself if any harm were 
 to come to you on leaving my house. I shall insist on ac- 
 companying you to your lodging, if it were as far as Capo 
 di Monte." — The people here are terribly afraid of robbers, 
 but I really fancy without cause. I have not only often 
 been out at very late hours without meeting with any acci- 
 dent, but even have not heard of a single robbery worth 
 mentioning ever since I have been here. At all events, the 
 company of the fat apothecary would have afforded no ad- 
 ditional protection if I have formed a right judgement of his 
 prowess. I had cause to wish he had staid at home ; for no sooner 
 had we walked about five minutes, than he began to exhibit 
 the effects of the vinous gas when brought into contact with 
 the atmospheric air ; his Doric stumps refused any further 
 
 obser- 
 
 * A Iars;e building near the Capuaa gate, the seat of the courts of justice. 
 
208 
 
 observance of defin. IV. Euclid^ I. * ; and when vie had got 
 to Porta di Chiaja, they became as stationary as the pillars of 
 Hercules. — What was to be done but, instead of being squired 
 home by him, to drag the gentleman all the way back to 
 his own door, where he was saluted by madame with an 
 *' O die heslia ! !" and where I once more bade her "felicis- 
 simanotte;" a wish, the realization of which I had, under 
 existing circumstances, the greatest doubts of. 
 
 The reception and attention I met with at the house of 
 Don Ignazio, is another instance of that goodness of heart 
 and hospitality of the honest Neapolitans which it has been 
 my good fortune to experience from every one of them since 
 the first day of my arrival in this city. Besides two English 
 families, to whom I had letters of recommendation, and 
 whose houses are open to me at all times, I then knew not a 
 soul here. Noio it will require a full week to take leave of 
 all those from whom I, an utter stranger, have received ci- 
 vilities, nay, real marks of friendship, which, in the whole 
 course of my future life, I shall always remember with gra- 
 titude. To separate from such a people would cost a strug- 
 gle, were it not to return to the happy shores of Old Eugland, 
 to you, my dear T, and to every thing dearest to my heart. 
 
 Farewell. 
 
 Your's, &c. 
 
 * * * » 
 
 LETTER XIII. 
 
 My dear T, • 
 
 NEXT to Rome, and, perhaps, without this exception, 
 no spot on the whole globe can presume to rival this city and 
 
 its 
 
 * A right line U the shortest d'utance between two poiiitSi 
 
209 
 
 its environs in the number of interesting; objects whicli, at 
 every step and on every side^ obtrude themselves on the no- 
 tice of the inquisitive traveller. On the west, the mountain 
 of Posilipo, with its stupendous grotto, and its manifold re- 
 mains of ancient architecture; the venerable, though small 
 city of Pozzuoli ; the Solfatara, the famed volcanic lakes and 
 shores of Bajae, as far as the Misenian cape : towards the east, 
 the unique museum at Portici, the cities of Herculaneum, 
 Pompeji, Stabia?, and Father Vesuvius — have more than 
 once been the theme of the voluminous correspondence de- 
 dicated to your perusal. 
 
 In the present letter I shall direct your attention to the 
 southward of Naples; weshall sail across the gulf^to visit the 
 celebrated island of Capri. Barren as its fanciful mass of 
 rocks appears when viewed from the gardens of the Thuil- 
 lerie, at a distance of nearly seventeen miles (which our de- 
 luded optics reduce to seven or eight), its romantic views, 
 sublime prospects, its comparatively high state of cultivation, 
 its various physical productions, the natural strength of its 
 situation as a key and barrier to the whole gulf, and, above 
 all, the figure it makes in the history of the roman emperors, 
 and particularly of Tiberius ; all these considerations give 
 Capri an importance which no island of the same dimensions 
 dares claim, and which renders every thing relating to it 
 highly worthy of the most careful investigation. 
 
 My trip thither has likewise the merit, if merit it can be 
 called, of once more bringing to your notice my original 
 of a landlord, the whimsical Don Michele, who, ever since 
 the trouble and vexation he caused me on the Pompejan 
 excursion, has remained in the back ground as far as excur- 
 sions were concerned, and who certainly would have been 
 left to his own speculations in this instance, had he not ear- 
 nestly solicited permission to accompany me. It would 
 
 E E have 
 
210 
 
 have been very ungracious indeed to have refused his re- 
 quest ; the more so^ as it arose from a wish to see a female 
 relative of his, married to a farmer on the island. Suspecting' 
 that so sequestered a spot would afford little or no accom- 
 modation to a traveller, I determined on taking my cot with 
 me ; and my friend ordered his daughter the good Donna 
 Luisa to prepare a pigeon pie of respectable dimensions, 
 which, together with a Bologna sausage and some wine, 
 ground coffee and sugar, were stowed in a small hamper. 
 Don ^lichele also undertook to look out for a passage, and 
 agreed with the padrone of a felucca to convey us for two 
 ducats * a piece. 
 
 — We set sail at three o'clock last Tuesday afternoon, with 
 a stiff, but not very favourable breeze. Passing close under 
 the stern of an English frigate lying in the bay, my friend 
 expressed a desire to go on board, as he had never seen the 
 interior of a man of war. To such an aberration from our 
 course the padrone would not consent without an additional 
 bonus of half a ducat This being granted, and leave ob- 
 tained from the officer on deck, our felucca got along side 
 the frigate, and I up first; but poor Don Michele, after 
 some timid struggles to follow me, in every one of which he 
 was baulked by the swell of the sea shoving the little felucca 
 up and down, declined any further attempts, as, to use his 
 plnase, " he valued his shins more than all the navy in 
 England." This disappointment, and the little salt water 
 which his silk hose had imbibed on the occasion, already 
 ruiiled his irritable temperament. But the worst of his trou- 
 ble had yet to come. In the mean time, the padrone very 
 civilly requested, as per agreement, the half ducat, for the 
 attempt to put us on board the frigate. 
 
 Don M. — " Haifa rope to hang you with, cheating rascal ! 
 
 Have 
 
 * A ducat is \rorth about 4s, 
 
211 
 
 Have I been on board? or have I by a miracle escaped havr 
 ing my legs broken? and ruined my stockings into the 
 bargain !" 
 
 The padrone observed, very justly, that he had performed 
 his part of the contract, and that it was not his fault if Don 
 Michele had not the courage to mount the ladder. — All to 
 no purpose ! My friend not only solemnly protested against 
 parting with one farthing, but threatened to acquaint the 
 governor of Capri, whom he feigned to know well, with the 
 attempted imposition. 
 
 The latter menace silenced the skipper's clamour, but not 
 the current of my friend's abuse, who kept on grumbling, 
 and would probably have continued in that strain for the 
 rest of the voyage, had not sea-sickness begun to a«sail him 
 in proportion as we got more into the opening of the ba) . 
 He soon turned as pale as death ; and after an interval of a- 
 boutten minutes, during which his face successively assumed 
 the character of every one of Le Brun's passions, save that 
 of mirth, he relieved his stomach by an inclination over the 
 boat's sides. Unfortunately, his cocked hat followed the in- 
 ternal impulse, and gently floating on the briny surface, soon 
 receded beyond the reach of our sticks. — '" // mio castore .'" 
 exclaimed piteously our chapeau has. I instantly desired 
 the master to tack about, which he refused to do without our 
 paying him beforehand the half ducat in dispute. He had it, 
 and the hat was recovered, unfit, however, as you may sup- 
 pose, for immediate service. The padrone, therefore, with 
 much kindness, lent him his own red cap (contents un- 
 known), to keep off the sun, and thus in a moment dubbed 
 him a Jacobin. 
 
 I ought not to sport with Don Michele's sufferings. Al- 
 though an old sailor^ the short motion of our little bark had 
 
 EE 2 ere 
 
113 
 
 ere long a similar effect upon my constitution ; for more 
 than half an hour I felt very squeamish and listless. At 
 last^ however, jwst varios casus, post tot disc7'h?iimi rerimi, 
 we arrived safely at what is called the port of Capri before 
 it was dark, after a passage of about five hours. 
 
 The inn which we were directed to, and which appeared 
 to be the only one on the island, was a miserable hovel ; yet 
 as it turned out no worse than I had imajjined, and as I had 
 brought my provisions and cot with me, there was no disap- 
 pointment at least. The trip had had such a beneficial 
 effect on my friend's stomach, that he forthwith began un- 
 packing the hamper ; but w hat was his astonishment and 
 indignation when, on taking out the pie, the cover fell off, 
 and exhibited the dish emptied of every thing but some 
 gravy left at the bottom. Our half dozen of pigeons had 
 taken wino* ao-ain. This was a sad reven«re which the af- 
 fronted sailors had taken. Don Michele grew furious, and 
 was on the point of returning to the beach to find out the 
 miscreants, when I represented to him the futility of such 
 an attempt, since, even if he met with the rogues, the pigeons 
 were surely eaten, and therefore irrecoverable. " The gen- 
 tleman is perfectly in the right, nodded our landlord, a tall, 
 well-made, and good-humoured islander. " You had better 
 put up with the first inisfoi'tune, than expose yourself to in- 
 sult from these "ood for nothini»- villains. The entertainment 
 which we shall endeavour to provide for you, will, I trust, 
 enable you to forget your loss." 
 
 On enquir} , however, what fiire he could procure, we un- 
 derstood, to our great mortification, that of butchei-s' meat 
 there had not been an ounce in the island these three weeks ; 
 fowl likewise remained a pious wish : but, by way of conso- 
 lation, he assured us, that had we but honoured him with 
 our custom a fortnight sooner, he would have boarded both 
 
 of 
 
213 
 
 of us upon delicious quails at two carlins (lOd.) per diem. 
 At the same time we learnt a curious fact. Butchers' meat, 
 our host informed us, was seldom or ever on sale, unless one 
 of their cows happened, by a fall from the frightful preci- 
 pices, to break her neck or legs. Such a calamity causes 
 exultation over the whole island ; the accident is promul- 
 gated by sound of trumpet, and the people are invited forth- 
 with to purchase the meat, a summons which they attend to 
 with great eagerness. 
 
 Having in this manner ascertained the negative state of 
 our landlord's larder, it became desirable to know something 
 of its positive contents. — '' Excellent olives, still better 
 cheese, maccaroni, and," continued he, " if your stomach 
 is capable of half an hour's patience, some of our fishing- 
 boats w ill be in by that time, and then I could give you a 
 supper fit for King Ferdinand to eat, God bless him!" — 
 '' They are standing in now," interrupted one of his lads, 
 who was immediately dispatched to the harbour with a 
 large pail. We followed, not however before Don Michele 
 had applied to the hamper for a snack to whet his appetite. 
 
 In our way down to the beach we observed a number of 
 high poles erected at small distances in the low grounds. 
 These the lad told us served to stretch their nets in the quail 
 season. Capri has in all ages been celebrated for the pro- 
 digious number of quails caught there. The principal re- 
 venues of the bishop, and of some convents, arise from the 
 quails they send to Naples. In a good season, which lasts 
 about three weeks only, 150,000, and in one day 12,000, 
 have been caught. As birds of passage, they alight here 
 merely to rest themselves in their flight to other countries.; 
 begin arriving in April, and continue till the middle of May. 
 That period is a time of profit and rejoicing for the Capreans, 
 every one being at liberty to shoot or catch as many as he 
 
 can 
 
214 
 
 can. Exhausted as the bird is^ there is little difficulty in seizing 
 him. The most common and productive method is, for one 
 man to have a net, which he carries folded upon two poles, 
 another drives the quails towards hirn, when the former in- 
 stantly expands his net, and as soon as the birds strike a- 
 gainst it, he turns the net with great dexterity, and confines 
 them entangled as they are. They are then put into a bag, 
 to preserve them alive, because the live ones fetch a double 
 price at Naples. Very often, however, this pastime is at- 
 tended with serious consequences : the bearer of the net, in 
 twisting it round, frequently loses his balance, from the 
 weight of the long poles, and is precipitated from the rocks. 
 Even boys, from the age of four, amuse themselves by catch- 
 ing them with the hand in the bushes, and putting them 
 under the netting which they constantly wear on their heads ; 
 and on their return home, the height of this animated head- 
 dress, as it affords the best proof of their success, is a matter of 
 triumph among them. In Egypt, where these birds arrive in 
 the month of September, I have more than once seen the Arabs 
 killing or laming them, by throwing short sticks at them. 
 During the time that the Capitano Bey blockaded the har- 
 bour of Alexandria with his Turkish squadron, one of the 
 Greek sailors of his ship caught two or three which had percli- 
 cd on the rigging. The Mussulman rewarded him generous- 
 ly, and desirous of varying the hard fare which a blockading 
 squadron has usually to sustain, by a more ample supply of 
 such a delicate rarity, promised a piaster for every quail that 
 should be brought him. In a few days the rigging, sails, 
 and yards were covered with flocks of quails; great num- 
 bers were cauglit of course, and every one was brought 
 into the cabin, as the price had been so liberally fixed. To 
 escape the dilemma of either ruining his purse or breaking 
 his promise, the Capitano Bey resorted to the alternative of 
 standing out to sea, as by removing from the coast, he got 
 rid of the visits of these expensive strangers. 
 
 But 
 
215 
 
 But to return from Pompey's pillar to our island (a mere 
 trifle for a traveller come noi altri), we had not to wait many 
 minutes on the beach before the lad filled his pail with two 
 or three sorts of fish, for which he paid 12 grani (about 6d.) ; 
 and soon after our return to the inn we began the first course 
 with a bowl full of maccaroni. Whoever cannot eat those must 
 give up travelling in this kingdom. Our next dish was fish, 
 as you may suppose : the host had picked out the best, a 
 sort he called aguglia. Properly cooked, they would have 
 been excellent eating, since dressed even as they were, with 
 a profusion of oil and onions, our famished palate deemed 
 them highly relishing. The cheese of Capri is universally 
 and justly esteemed a delicacy. The many aromatic herbs 
 which the cows cull from the rocks, give a rich flavour to 
 the milk, and consequently to the cheese, not to be surpas- 
 sed by Gruyere or Parmesan. My cot was slung after sup- 
 per, and Don Michele accommodated with the bed of the 
 landlord, who, with his wife, slept on a straw mattrass. 
 
 Here, my dear T. I shall pause for a while, in order to 
 say a few words on the former history and condition of this 
 celebrated island. Compared with its present state, you will 
 easily allow a superior degree of interest to my notice of its 
 former splendour. To do things in style, I enclose you a 
 copy of a neat and correct little map of the present Capri, 
 to which I beg your occasional reference *. By so doing, you 
 will save yourself and me much labour, and obtain a much 
 clearer idea of the topography of the island, than the most 
 minute verbal description of mine could possibly afford. It 
 will likewise enable you to read with more interest, and to 
 comprehend more fully the scattered notices of Capri, to be 
 met with in Suetonius, Tacitus, Pliny, Strabo, Ptolemy, Dio,> 
 Virgil, Ovid, Juvenal, Silius Italicus, &c. some of whom 
 
 1 have 
 
 * See plate 1 1 . 
 
216 
 
 I have taken an opportunity to turn over cursorily. The 
 importance of the subject has likewise enoaged the pen of 
 several moderns, such as D. Giuseppe Maria Secondo, who, 
 in the year 1750, presented to the king- a brief description 
 of the island. Giraldi and Accucci, both Neapolitan physi- 
 cianSj liave likewise published some observations on Capri; 
 and some years ago, a German, of the name of Iladrawa, 
 who, imder the patronage of the government, had caused a 
 variety of researches and excavations to be made, printed, 
 together with the result of his labours, a succinct description 
 of the island, which I have read, and which has furnished 
 my narrative with a variety of particulars^, that you must 
 otherwise have dispensed with. 
 
 To begin methodically, by tracing things to their first 
 origin, you nuist know, that the first inhabitants of this rock 
 
 were a community of wild goats, from whence it derived 
 
 its name Caprea, or rather CAPREiE, in the plural number, 
 in which the ancient writers generally mention it. History 
 leaves us in the dark whether this caprine population was 
 aboriginal or whether it came from the main land, although, 
 if I may be allowed a conjecture on so important a subject, 
 1 .should be inclined to embrace the latter opinion, knowing 
 what expert swimmers the goats of antiquity must have been. 
 If one of them was able to swim across the Hellespont, even 
 with Phryxus and Helle upon his back, a few caprine colo- 
 nists might well succeed in the short trip from the promon- 
 tory of Minerva, the ]M*esent point of Massa, which is but 
 three miles distant. Nor is it known how long they re- 
 mained in the undisturbed possession of their settlement ; 
 but so much is certain, that at the time of Hercules a colony 
 of Teleboi arrived from Samos, subdued the former peace- 
 able inhabitants, and fixed their residence on the island. 
 Their history again is revolved in obscurity, Telon and his son 
 Ebalus being the only sovereigns noticed by ancient writers. 
 
 The 
 
217 
 
 The Telcboi in their turn were subjected by the arms of the 
 Parthenopian Greeks, who transplanted thither their arts, 
 and especially their games, such as wrestling", racing, the 
 throwing of the javelin and of the discus, and their dancing 
 likewise; accomplishments in which the Capreans shone 
 for many centuries, and which they exhibited before the 
 Emperor Augustus, when he visited the island for the sake 
 of diverting himself with quail shooting. This emperor was 
 delighted with the spot ; the pure air of its high rocks had 
 a beneficial eifect on his delicate health, the gymnastic 
 sports of its handsome race alforded him great amusement ; 
 but what is more, an old oak tree, which the wind had blo\'VTi 
 down, and which had withered in consequence, at his arri- 
 val spontaneously raised itself, and, oh wonder! shot from 
 i-ts rotten trunk vio-orous branches of new leaves. So o-ood 
 an omen was not to be neglected : Auor-ustus became desir- 
 ous of possessing the island. But then, it belonged to the 
 city of Naples. To the master of the world this circumstance 
 might have been a trifle, had he been initiated in the mys- 
 tery of modern French diplomacy. A " tel est 7iotre plaisir" 
 would have been an unanswerable argument for its pos- 
 session. But what did he do, the simpleton? AVhy enter 
 into a negociation with the city of Naples, who frankly de- 
 clared their unwillingness to part with their property unless 
 he gave them in Exchange the sovereignty of Pithecusa (now 
 Ischia), an island twice as large and four times as produc- 
 tive. His concession of the demand forms an historical trait 
 in his character, which speaks more than a volume written 
 in his praise. — The island being now his own, he entirely 
 devoted it to his pleasure and relaxation from the cares of 
 government. Noble palaces, magnificent theatres, and en- 
 chanting gardens, were reared as if by magic; Romans and 
 Greeks, without distinction, were invited to attend and assist 
 in the games, at which he occasionally presided in person, 
 distributing to the victors costly tog<£ or pallia, and what is 
 
 F F curious. 
 
218 
 
 cui'ious, the former to the Greeks, and the latter to the Ho- 
 mans. He also erected a museum for natural curiosities at 
 Capri ; and Suetonius tells us of jj^igantic bones of men and 
 animals, and of arms belonging to illustrious heroes, pre- 
 served there. From that author, it is to be presumed that 
 all these sumptuous establishments at Capri owed their origin 
 to the idea which Augustus had once conceived of resigning 
 the government of Rome on account of his ill heaUh, a plan 
 he probably would have carried into etfect, had he had to 
 look to a better man for a successor than Til)erius, whose 
 character he must have well known ; and had he not feared 
 for his own life, in case the oppressions of that tyrant should 
 excite in the Romans too loud a wish for their former master. 
 
 When at Capri, pleasure was the only business Augustus 
 allowed to be transacted ; all distinction of ranks was set 
 aside, unbounded licence of speech was, as Suetonius says, 
 not only granted io^ but even exacted from every one of 
 his train; You might frequently see the conqueror of Ac- 
 tium pelted by his courtiers with apples or cabbage-stalks. 
 The same author likewise mentions another island in the 
 vicinity of Capri, to which Augustus gave the name of A- 
 pragopolis (the Idler's Town), on account of the life led there 
 by some of his retinue. " Vicinam Capreis Insulam A?rp«roToXir 
 appellabat." I have looked for that island, but could dis- 
 cover none near enough to answer the description or pur- 
 pose. If 1 were a critic, therefore, I should suspect the cor- 
 rectness of Suetonius's text. Why call an island a town? 
 Might not the text originally have stood '' Vicinam Capreis 
 iirbem," &c. and been vitiated bv an in^norant transcriber? 
 If read in my way, no difficulty remains. Capreae in that 
 case is the ancient and original town of Capri, not the whole 
 island ; and the '' itrhsvicind" nothing else than the other 
 town of the island now called Anacapri. The situation of 
 the latter upon an artificial level, made on a high and almost 
 
 inaccessible 
 
219 
 
 inaccessible rock, goes far in corroboration of my hypo- 
 thesis, which has at least the merit of having originated from 
 local survey. 
 
 But a few more words, and I have done with Augustus. 
 When attacked with the flux, that terminated his life, he 
 once more resolved to try the air of Capri, which so often 
 had been the means of restoring his health. He staid there 
 a few days, during which his disease assumed more favour- 
 able symptoms, and his spirits a degree of cheerfulness, which 
 enabled him to pass a joke or two on Thrasyllus, the confi- 
 dent of Tiberius, who accompanied him on his journey. He 
 likewise determined to pass over to Naples, in order to be 
 present at some games in Campania, celebrated in his honour 
 every fifth year; but on his return, growing suddenly worse, 
 he was forced to stay at Nola, where he died. 
 
 I have been somewhat diffuse in adverting to the particu- 
 lars relating to Augustus's stay at Capri, not oidy as they 
 seemed to me sufficiently interesting in themselves to claim 
 your atteution, but also to combat the common opinion, as 
 if it was purposely to iudulge in his beastly propensities tliat 
 Tiberius pitched upon Capri as a spot best calculated for 
 such a design. He had been there with Augustus, and had 
 participated in the diversions (innocent to be sure) of his 
 predecessor. The taste of Augustus had already formed on 
 the island magnificent establishments, sufficiently inviting 
 for a man like his successor. It is therefore probable that 
 some political motives influenced his departure from Rome. 
 These are easily found in the domineering disposition of his 
 mother Livia, and in the ambitious designs of his powerful 
 minister, Sejanus, neither of which he could with safety 
 counteract but at some distance from the capital. Suetonius^ 
 and, above all, Tacitus, put this opinion beyond a doubt. 
 Hence his retreat to Capri, where he sojourned for the re^ 
 
 F F S maindec 
 
220 
 
 mainder of his life. The island was extremely well calcu- 
 lated for his purpose. It had only one landing- place, being 
 on all sides surrounded by rocks deemed inaccessible to any 
 but the inhabitants of the island. A few days after his ar- 
 rival, while indulging in Sotne secret pleasure, he was inter- 
 rupted by a fisherman, who having caught a mullet of 
 unusual size, thought the best use he could make of such a 
 rarity would be to present it to the emperor, who no doubt 
 would order him a suitable reward. But Tiberius, surprised 
 and incensed to find that the fellow could find from the back 
 of the island a path to reach him, by way of recompense, 
 directed the poor fisherman's face to he, rubbed and scratched 
 "with his own present. The poor devil no doubt must have 
 thought his emperor an odd fish. He bore, however, the 
 painful operation with patience, congratulating himself on 
 not having brought at the same time an enormous lobster, 
 which he had had some thoughts of doing. But conceive 
 the unfortunate man's astonishment, when Tiberius, upon 
 learning the cause of his rejoicing, ordered him to fetch the 
 lobster too, in order to undergo a second process more excru- 
 ciating than the first. 
 
 It was in the 14th year of his reign, and near the 70th 
 year of his age, that Tiberius arrived at Capri ; and as he 
 scarcely ever left it, his stay there nuist have amounted to 
 nine years; during which, the cares of government en- 
 grossed but little of his time. The provinces remained 
 under the administration of his governors, whom he left to 
 do as they pleased ; many vacancies he even omitted filling 
 up : still the machine of government went on pretty regu- 
 larly, thanks to the wise and firm manner in which Augus- 
 tus had established the new monarchy : a few insignificant 
 rebellions were soon crushed by his lieutenants, and his 
 own suspicious and cruel disposition, together with his re- 
 tirement to Capri, prevented the success of any conspiracy 
 
 that 
 
221 
 
 that was hatched against him. While thus careless and in- 
 different about pu])lic affairs, his attention and activity were 
 solely directed to the gratification of sensual pleasures. In 
 these alone he observed the greatest method and regularity. 
 A secretary of state /or love affairs (a voluptatibiis ) was a 
 new office created in the person of T. Caesonius Prise us^ a 
 Roman knight. Not content with the establishments found- 
 ed by Augustus, Tiberius, after having provided for his per- 
 sonal safety by the erection of a strong castle in the south 
 of the island, the ruins of which are still to be seen, at once 
 built twelve palaces or villas, which were dedicated to the 
 twelve superior divinities of paganism. These villas were 
 of different descriptions : some in their structure imitated 
 the magnificence of the palaces of the capital ; others, by 
 the simplicity of their style, and the amenity of their pre- 
 cinct, w ere adapted to rural pleasure ; and others again were 
 laid out in the manner of farms and dairies, furnishing the 
 emperor and his retinue with every article necessary for the 
 sustenance, and indeed the luxuries of life; so that, in case 
 of a revolt on the continent, it was out of the power of his 
 enemies to reduce him by famine. In this manner was the 
 whole island covered with palaces, porticoes, temples, gar- 
 dens, groves, baths, fishponds, &c. The greatest part, how- 
 ever, of these villas, were, as you may perceive by a glance 
 at the map, erected on the eastern half of the island, and in 
 the vicinity of the town of Capri, the rocks of which it con- 
 sists not only being less frightful than those situated in 
 the western part, and more variegated by intervals of culti- 
 vated soil, but affording more romantic prospects over the 
 island and the opposite continent. 
 
 In order to bring the twelve villas of Tiberius under one 
 view, I shall now briefly enumerate them one after the other, 
 rather in the order in which they lie, than according to that 
 in which we visited them at different times. 
 
 We 
 
222 
 
 We shall begin with the most important of all, as havini^ 
 been the usual residence of the emperor, and, on that ac- 
 count, distinguished above the others by its extent and 
 magnificence, Hwas dedicated to Jupiter, and is called Villa 
 Jovis by Suetonius and other ancient •writers. Its site is 
 nearly on the edge of a tremendous precipice, precisely 
 where now stands a chapel, built from its remains, and 
 dedicated to the Virgin Mary (S' Maria del Soccorso. 
 The only inhabitant of this solitary spot, once the scene 
 of unheard of debaucheries and cruelties, is a pious 
 hermit, whose prayers and fasts seem, as it were, to expi- 
 ate the enormities of its former tenant. The ruins here 
 Are considerable. Besides a range of lofty arches, you see 
 some of the rooms in tolerable perfection, and the remains 
 of several aqueducts. The subterraneous prison likewise 
 ^vas pointed out to us, in which the unfortunate Drusus, the 
 grandson of Tiberius, w as starved to death, and where, as 
 Suetonius tells us, famine drove him to eat the stuffings of 
 his pillow. At a small distance from this spot you still 
 observe the ruins of the lighthouse, the falling in of w hich, 
 a few days before Tiberius's death, was considered by the 
 Romans as an omen of that event. Here we beheld w ith 
 horror the spot from which this monster caused the victims 
 of his cruelty to be throw n headlong into the sea, by dozens 
 at a time, taking care to have, at the bottom of the rock, 
 boats stationed, the crew s of which w ere ordered to mangle 
 'with their hooks such of the wretches as had still life in them 
 after the fall. This villa is further to be noticed as the 
 place in which, after the suppression of the conspiracy of 
 Sejanus (pretended or real), the cowardly tyrant shut himself 
 up for nine months, without once daring to leave its walls. 
 When you consider the tremendous heiglit of this rock, 
 you will not be surprised to hear of the truly enchanting 
 prospect which its summit affords. Right below you is the 
 channel between the main land and the island^ which every 
 
 ship 
 
ship coming- from Sicily, Malta^ Africa, and the Levant, pass5cs 
 on its way to Naples ; beyond that, the promontory of Mi- 
 nerva and the picturesque Sorrentine mountains ; before 
 you, the whole bay of Naples, Vesuvius rearing' its head to 
 the clouds ; to the left you have the promontories of Posi- 
 lipo and Misenum, and the islands of Ischia, Procida, and 
 Nisita. The view from hence over the island itself is no less 
 beautiful and romantic, and its interest not a little heighten- 
 ed by the alternate changes of highly cultivated parts, and 
 the nakedness of sterile masses of rock. 
 
 The second villa of Tiberius was likewise erected on a 
 rock of great elevation, and its site, like the first, is indicated 
 by a chapel, dedicated to St. Michael. Ruins of every kind 
 are very numerous here, such as the remains of an aqueduct, 
 of several resenoirs for water, and of some apartments exca- 
 vated out of the solid stone. We observed a row^ of square 
 holes cut into the rock, probably to serve as sockets for the 
 pedestals of the columns erected on them ; and a covered 
 walk, in tolerable preservation, and most pleasantly situ- 
 ated. It was from this gallery that Tiberius kept a watchful 
 look-out for the preconcerted sig*nals from the main land, 
 which (lest the news should travel too tardily by the com- 
 mon means of messengers) were to inform him of the events 
 occurring- at Rome on the occasion of the conspiracy of 
 Sejanus, and of the execution of his orders to crush it. This 
 circumstance, my dear T. certainly affords another proof 
 of the antiquity of the employment of telegraphic methods 
 to convey speedily intelligence of importance. 
 
 The vale of Matromania, close to the eastern shore of the 
 island, and at the distance of about three quartere of a mile 
 from Jupiter's villa, next demands our attention. Its name 
 alone, were there no other reason, would warrant a belief 
 that on this spot stood the third villa, dedicated to Cybele, 
 
 th€ 
 
224 
 
 the " great mother/' mater magna ; the converting- of wliich 
 words into the present Matromania, may surely be allo\>ed 
 ■without much etymological stretch. But, independently 
 of this, the remains of a temple are still to be seen, v.liose 
 cavernous construction precisely answers the mystic rites 
 of the Pessinuntian goddess ; and, what is uiore, in the 
 very precinct of this temple an altar of C}bele has been dug^ 
 out, which is stated to be deposited in the British Museum. 
 (Pray g-o and ascertain that point!) The access to this sa- 
 cred edifice is now very difficult. We had to descend a steep 
 declivity, beset with briars and brush ^vood which lacerated 
 poor Don Michele's silk stocking-s in the most wretched 
 manner. But on our arrival I found myself amply recom- 
 pensed for the toilsome journey. The front and beginning 
 of this temple seem to have been constructed of masonry, 
 and are now almost entirely destroyed by time; but the re- 
 mainder, to its end, appears to have been excavated out of 
 the solid rock; and that portion indeed has sustained little 
 injury, except by the growth of luxuriant shrubs of various 
 kinds, which, as it were, strive to conceal its figure. At 
 the end of the temple a small stone staircase leads to the 
 sanctuary, and there we observed several niches, likewise 
 cut in the rock. This dreary cavern was appropriated with 
 judicious cunning* by the worthless race of emasculated Galli, 
 for the performances of their mysterious rites and jug-gling 
 tricks, by which they -deluded the superstitious part of the 
 inhabitants. — The pagans, my dear T. had their bigots as 
 well as more modern religious persuasions. Unmeaning 
 mystic nonsense has in all ag-es exerted its charms upon 
 weak intellects, or held out its veil to.crafty hypocrites. The 
 votaries of the great goddess, therefore, might, without im- 
 propriety, be paralleled with a certain class of our fanatic 
 sectaries, who seek a pride in their secession from the faith 
 of their fellow citizens, in order to embrace doctrines invol- 
 ved in mystic obscurity, and who depend, for the salvation 
 
 of 
 
225 
 
 of their silly souls, not on their actions, but on the observ- 
 ance of a cant jargon of unintelligible nonsense : but I much 
 doubt whether the preachers of the latter would be quite so 
 numerous as they are, were the conditions of their qualifi- 
 cation similar to those imposed upon the priests of the Phry- 
 gian goddess. — Human bones are found in great abundance 
 by digging on this solitary spot. Are they the remnants of 
 Tiberian cruelty, or, perhaps, of impious sacrifices to the 
 divinity of the place? 
 
 More to the southward, on the same tract of coast, just 
 before you come to Cape Tregara, is the site of the fourth 
 villa, of whose name and particular appropriation no record 
 informs us. That it was magnificent and extensive, we are 
 warranted to conclude from a stately aqueduct, and from 
 heaps of ruins scattered on all sides. 
 
 About half way between the last-mentioned place and the 
 town of Capri, is a spot called Camerelle, probably on ac- 
 count of the vast number of small ruinous apartments, sub- 
 terraneous cells, arches, and walls still seen there. Some 
 cameos, discovered here at different times, throw great 
 light on the appropriation of this fifth villa. It was, no 
 doubt, the seminary established by his imperial majesty for 
 
 the education of youth of both sexes in the science of 
 
 libidinous tactics. It w as, as Suetonius calls it, '' sedes ar- 
 canarum libidinum." It was the spot so famous for the in- 
 genius contrivance, called '' sellaria;" it was the college of 
 his '^'spintriae," the nursery of his *^' pisciculi," &c. Read 
 the 42d and 43d chapters of Suetonius's Tiberius, and you 
 will save my pen the disgusting task of saying more of the 
 purposes to which this place was devoted. — The obscene 
 cameos and intaglios which now and then are found on this 
 spot go by the name of spintria's, and are sought after with 
 the greatest avidity by connoisseurs of refined taste ; some 
 
 G Q I have 
 
226 
 
 I have been told, have been pnrchased at the price of two 
 and more hundred ouhces_, according^ to the workmanship 
 and the neatness of the subject. 
 
 It is natural, my dear T. to suppose that the reflections 
 elicited by the view of this villa formed the subject of our 
 conversation for some time after leaving it, the more so, 
 as Don Michele, m ith the most calm inquisitiveness, asked 
 for every minute particular which my recollection of the ac- 
 counts of the ancient authors enabled me to furnish him with. 
 His interrogatory resembled the cross examination "with 
 which an able counsellor endeavours to worry his victim 
 stuck up in the witness box. 1 knew him too well to ex- 
 pect any good from it. When he had fished out of my com- 
 municative disposition every thing he deemed meet for his 
 purpose, he stopped short, coughed significantly throe of 
 four times, took out his tabatiere (double the size of one of 
 our tinder-boxes), and equitably dispensing to each of his 
 nostrils a dose of the narcotic dust, with a power of suction, 
 which, in all probabilitv, conveyed the stimulant to the vici- 
 nity of the pineal gland, and, with a strength of nasal into- 
 nation, which reverberated an audible echo from every 
 cavity of the cranium, and d is'encumberi ng, moreover, his 
 frill and the folds of his waiscoat from the surplus of tJie 
 dose which had settled thereon, by a quick aiwl repeated 
 sweep of the hand spread into the shape of a broom, — he 
 began as follows : '' Signer Don Luigi ! were I less con- 
 vinced of your veracity, and your mode of thinking and ac- 
 ting, I should fancy all that you have been trying to per- 
 suade me of, w ith regard to this emperor Tiberio, was a mere 
 invention of your imagination by way of a frolic, to make a 
 fool of your humble servant. But as I entertain a better 
 opinion of your principles, I am inclined to believe, that if 
 any body is made a fool of, it is not 7ne at least. I make 
 no doubt but these nursery tales of your Tacito and Sue- 
 ton io. 
 
227 
 
 touiOj and by what other names you chose to call those great 
 historians^ pass for gospel with you; and for why? — ^Vhy 
 because they belong' to what you are pleased to call classic 
 authors! Classic indeed! to invent the disgusting accounts 
 of such beastliness (heastialita), which, instead of being* 
 put into the liands of young students, ought to be burnt by 
 the common hangman. — Pray tell me how these know- 
 ing gentlemen got at all the secret scandal they relate of 
 this emperor? Were they some chamberlain or gentleman 
 usher in the palace ? You say no ! Then does it not stand 
 to reason, that a man gifted with the cunning which you say 
 Tiberius posessed, would know how to keep pranks like these 
 from the rest of the world, particularly in an island like this, 
 expressly selected, as they themselves alledge, for the pur- 
 pose of secrecy ? Poor devil, he might as well have played 
 off his tricks and fancies in the streets of Rome at noon-day, 
 as be at so much pains for nothing at all. Nonsense! Pll 
 tell you what I think of the matter : This Signor Don Sue- 
 tonio took a particular delight in fabricating stories of the 
 kind for no other reason than because they agreed with his 
 own disposition, and no doubt he will tiud readers who 
 delight equally in the perusal of them. I look upon such 
 things" .., 
 
 In '' looking upon such things," the argumentative ea- 
 gerness of poor Don Michele had made him forget to look 
 upon the bare root of a venerable chesnut-tree, which pro- 
 jected across his path. An wwioYimv^ie faux pas had very 
 nigh consigned him down a precipice about twelve yards 
 in depth, had I not luckily caught the skirt of his silken 
 frock, by which means he escaped with a slight contusion 
 of the great extensor of the right arm, and a small rend of 
 the skirt, which, in this instance, had proved the saviour of 
 his invaluable person. The damage being thus trilling, I 
 own I secretly rejoiced in the accident >\hich alone could 
 
 G G 2 . have 
 
228 
 
 have put a stop to the eloquent display of his spirit of con- 
 tradiction^ although I could not help perceivino-, among th6 
 wild nonsense of his argumentation^ some scattered sparks 
 of reasonable conception. 
 
 Without further interruption, therefore, on his part, save 
 that of a few occasional clackini>'s of the tono-ue against his 
 upper teeth, we arrived at the site of the sixth villa, which^ 
 in the map, you will trace at the name of Certosa^ there 
 being' a convent of Carthusian friars erected on the very 
 same spot. Here, too, the observance of the severe rules of 
 one of the most rigid orders of monks seems to atone for the 
 lax discipline of the former imperial tenant. Few or no 
 remains of pristine splendour presented themselves, the soil 
 being in a great measure covered by the modern building, 
 formed partly from ancient materials. 
 
 In our further progress we passed an old castle, built in 
 the Gothic style ; and after another quarter of a mile's walk^ 
 arrived at a farm which goes by the name of CastiglioH^. 
 At this place the seventh villa is reported to have stood ; 
 but, owing to the elevation of surface, no traces of it are to 
 be seen above ground. Some years ago, extensive exca- 
 vations were carried on at this very spot, three or four sub- 
 terraneous apartments laid open, and^ in the coui'se of the 
 work, various interesting discoveries made ; such as several 
 fine cameos, and, among those^ a beautiful head of Ger- 
 manicus, a tesselated pavement in the highest presen ation, 
 of which Hadrawa gives a drawing in his work, and some 
 busts and mutilated statues of excellent Grecian workman- 
 ship. Some of the rooms were paved with neat square tiles, 
 on many of which the manufacturer's name was impressed ; 
 several stoves, and a number of leaden pipes carried through 
 the apartments, as well as two or three reservoir for water, 
 render it evident that the whole was appropriated to the 
 
 fashionable Roman luxury of warm baths. 
 
 Due 
 
2S9 
 
 Due south of Casti.ii;'lione is the district of Miilo, where, 
 bordering nearly on the sea, stood the eighth villa. The 
 situation was judiciously chosen, as aflbrding the most de- 
 lightful walks amidst the shady woods^ which even now 
 surround it. 
 
 The ninth villa, besides its splendid ruins, affords a natu- 
 ral curiosity : I allude to four grottoes in the rock, of consi- 
 derable extent, two of them being about sixty yards long 
 and twelve wide, and the other two of somewhat less dimen- 
 sions. All of them are filled with water from plentiful 
 springs, the source of which remains unknown ; and, what 
 is singular, all of them contain an abundant store of the 
 finest chalk, which can scarcely be supposed indigenous, as 
 it is to be found no where else in the island. But when, 
 and for what purpose it may have been conveyed thither, 
 it would be difficult, if not impossible to decide. Perhaps 
 it served to manufacture Murrhine vases, of which the an- 
 cients so frequently speak in terms of the greatest praise, 
 and which probably are the same as our modern porcelain. 
 
 The tenth, eleventh, and tMclfth villas, were, as you will 
 perceive, situated more or less near the sea-shore, almost in 
 a straight line and at nearly equal distances : the first of 
 them in a wood close by Ajano, and the next in a plain called 
 Campo Pisco, or Campo Episcopio, a name derived from a 
 bishop, who bought the ground and built a fine farmhouse 
 on it. The last and westernmost villa still retains the name 
 of il Palazzo ; it is not only close to the borders of the sea, 
 but at present partly overflowed by it, and many of its ruins 
 projecting out of the water (which has here greatly encroach- 
 ed upon the land), proclaim its former magnificence. Others 
 stretch as far as the summit of the overhanging hill. We 
 could distinguish an extensive range of apartments, and be- 
 twixt them, the remains of a temple, with part of its cupola. 
 
 Shafts 
 
230 
 
 Shafts and capitals of the rarest marble, and fragments of 
 beautiful pavements, have, not long ago, been discovered 
 on this spot. 
 
 Besides the twelve villas above noticed other objects of 
 curiosity of Tiberian date obtrude themselves in various 
 parts of the island, some of which I shall pass over, not to 
 swell the bulk of this letter, w hich, to my regret, has already 
 become more voluminous than I had an idea of. But I can- 
 not forbear noticing a stupendous grotto cut into the rock 
 on the southern shore of the island, called Grottadell' Arse- 
 Tiale. Its purpose may be inferred from its name ; it served 
 as a dock to build gallies in, being completely covered by 
 the excavated arch of the rock. It ought to be viewed by 
 sea in a boat, in which you may row to the very bottom : 
 but my friend feeling no curiosity to venture on what he 
 termed a useless expedition, I did not chuse to perform the 
 trip alone, especially as I had still fresh in my memory the 
 effect which the chilling cold of the Sybil's cave near Poz- 
 ?uoli had produced on iny feeble system, 
 
 The harbour of Tregara is also worthy of notice. A squa- 
 dron of gallies was constantly kept in it by the suspicious 
 tyrant, either to resist a naval attack, or, in the last extre- 
 mity (as w as his intention in the conspiracy of Sejanus), to 
 save himself by flying to his legions in Spain or Africa. 
 
 No wonder that such a man as Tiberius should, during 
 the nine years he passed at Capri, only twice venture to ex- 
 pose himself to the fancied danger of visiting the capital: 
 and even these two journies, as Suetonius iuforms us, were 
 mere attempts. The first time he got no farther than the 
 gardens near the Naumachia ; and the second time, when 
 he had come to the seventh mile-stone, a most curious, but 
 unfavourable omen, deterred him at once from prosecuting 
 
 lii^ 
 
231 
 
 his journey. We hear of some people being attached to a 
 favorite cat or dog ; others will fancy a monkey, a parrot, 
 or a guinea-pig- ; but the affections of his imperial majesty 
 happened to be (most characteristically, you will allow), ri- 
 vetted on a snake, whom he not only delighted to feed with 
 his own hand, but took with him wherever he went. But^ 
 lo ! on opening the box which served as a habitation to the 
 gentle fiivourite, he beheld with horror his darling dev oured 
 by a swarm of ants; an omen which induced his soothsayer 
 to advise him to '' beware of the power of the multitude." 
 Taking the warning, he immediately hurried back, and was 
 taken ill at Astura. He nevertheless hastened on to Circeii, 
 where (dissimulation being his second nature) he took it into 
 his head to sham the man in health ; was not only present 
 at the military games, but would throw a javelin at a wild 
 boar. Such a feat, however, was ill calculated for a sick 
 man in his years. He was seized with a sudden stitch in his 
 side; and receiving, heated as he was, what the French 
 call a coup de vent, he presently grew worse. Still pursuing 
 his journey, or rather voyage (for I think he went by sea), 
 towards Capri, he arrived at Misenum, within sight, and a 
 few hours sail of the island. Here he made a short slay ; 
 but when he learnt that the senate had dismissed, without 
 punishment, some persons whom he had denounced to them 
 as guilty of the crime of high treason, he fell into the most 
 violent rage, and like a pursued beast, which flies for safety 
 to its lurking hole, immediately embarked once more for 
 Capri. Short, however, as the passage is, he could not ac- 
 complish it ; the motion of the vessel in a rouoh sea auo-- 
 mented his illness to such an alarming: decree, that he was 
 obliged to be landed at Lucullus's villa (which I have heard 
 say stood on the present site of Castel d'Uovo, within pistol 
 .shot of Naples,) where he died, a natural death I should 
 suppose; although some assert he had poison given him, 
 otliers that he was smothered witli a pillow; and again 
 
 others. 
 
232 
 
 others, that he was staiTed to death. Thus, though withirt 
 sight of tlie island of Capri, was the old gentleman prevented 
 from ending his days in this his favourite retreat, where, du- 
 ring nine years, he had without controul, indulged in every 
 species of sensuality and cruelty. 
 
 With the death of Tiberius the splendour of Capri de- 
 creased rapidly ; not, as some ailed ge, because the senate 
 sent workmen thither purposely to demolish the buildings ; 
 a fiction totally unwarranted by history. On the contrary, 
 several succeeding emperors occasionally resorted there for 
 their amusement. Caligula, who had all the vices, and none 
 of the few good qualities of Tiberius, resided some time at 
 Capri : an inscription found there, records even the stay of 
 Marcus Aurelius. In later times, however, it served, like 
 other islands in the Tyrrhenian sea, as a place of exile. 
 Lucilla and Crispina, the sisters of Commodus, were banished 
 thither. Repeated earthquakes, probably, the traces of 
 which are visible, contributed more than any other cause to 
 its desolation. Nature herself (would I say were I a poet) 
 took vengeance on the soil which witnessed the outrages 
 committed against her. In our times, my dear T. she would 
 have had no need to resort to such violent means to effect 
 this purpose. Consigned to the fraternal care of a great re- 
 publican nation, Capri might have been done for just as 
 well. There would have been no need for the Goths, Van- 
 dals, and Barbary Corsairs, to give a finish to the business. 
 All these nations, however, had their share in the work of 
 destruction. The Corsairs, above all, handled the island 
 most roughly in the frequent visits which they paid it during 
 the time it belonged to the Spanish monarchy, and previ- 
 ously to that period. The famous Barbarossa once landed 
 with a powerful fleet, and for some time remained master of 
 Capri. His oppressions and cruelties were such, that to this 
 day, nearly three hundred years after the event, the dread of 
 
 his 
 
233 
 
 his name lias maintained itself in the island. In the mouth 
 of the Caprean nurse it is as powerful a talisman to still the 
 infant's sereams, as the name of Mailborou<^h in the Low 
 Countries^ or that of Trenck in Germany. I myself was 
 witness to a quarrel on the beaeh between two Caprean 
 .sailors or fishermen^ one of whom, after exhaustino- a plen- 
 tiful collection of abusive epithets, by way of climax called 
 his antagonist a Barbarossa, which, on enquiry, I learnt to 
 be a Caprean synouim for a person of a wicked, tyrannical 
 disposition. A modern hero, therefore, whose aim appears to 
 be an immortal name, if he pursues the career he has com- 
 mencedj need not fear attaining- his object: indeed, if he re- 
 tired from business at this moment, we might venture to 
 insure to him Barbarossan immortality wherever his foot 
 lias trod. Not only his own countrymen (by adoption), 
 but all Italy, a fair portion of Germany, the wandering Be- 
 douin in Syria, and the industrious Fellah on the banks of 
 the Nile, will have cause to remember, and to hand down to 
 future generations, the name of their pretended deliverer. 
 
 Having thus adverted to every thing 1 considered worthy 
 of your notice, as far as relates to the ancient history and 
 topography of this celebrated island, I sliall now proceed to 
 present you with a brief sketch of its present condition, its 
 productions, manufactures, trade, and some occasional il- 
 lustrations of the customs and manners of its inhabitants. 
 
 The map I have enclosed, supersedes the necessity of a 
 diffuse geographical description *. If you look at it for a mo- 
 ment, you will find its length, from east to west, to amount 
 to about four English miles, while its breadth from north to 
 south, owing to the irregularity of its shape, in some parts 
 falls short of a mile, and in others, extends to near three. 
 
 ^ See plate U, 
 
 H U Its 
 
234 
 
 Its figure may be compared to a shoulder of mutton ; and 
 the whole island divides itself most naturally into two un- 
 equal parts, each intersected by a ridge of high mountains. 
 The w estern portion, by far the largest, is the least fertile of 
 the two ; its mountainous ridge, the most elevated ; and its 
 general aspect, the w ildest ; although in many places the 
 eye is delighted by the sight of considerable tracts of land in 
 the highest and most luxuriant state of cultivation, inclosed 
 on all sides with frightfully naked rocks. The mountains of 
 the eastern division of Capri, although not so lofty, are 
 equally romantic, and may be classed under four principal 
 groups, the highest of which terminates in a precipice at 
 S'- Maria del Soccorso, where, as has already been stated, 
 the first and most celebrated of Tiberius's villas was situated. 
 The other detached heights are, S"- M'lchdc, S"' Maria della 
 Libera, and one called Tiioro Grande, near tlie point of 
 Tregara. Of S'- Michele, as the site of the second Tibe- 
 rian villa, I have likewise spoken above; and at S** Maria 
 della Libera stand the ruins of the Gothic castle already 
 noticed. The fourth eminence, Tuoro Grande, contained 
 the fourth Tiberian villa, in the place of which you now ob- 
 serve a solitary cross, erected on its very summit. 
 
 Between both heights is the stately Carthusian convent 
 (marked Certosa on the map), our visit to which I purposely 
 omitted in its place, that I might not interrupt the regula- 
 rity of the catalogue of Tiberian villas. An emaciated 
 monk, of a middle age, paid us every possible attention, 
 and shewed us their church, which our good landlord had 
 highly extolled for its paintings. But, instead of the works 
 of the Roman school, with w Inch my imagination had de- 
 corated it, I had the disappointment of beholding a parcel 
 of fresco-daubings, which a sign-painter would have thought 
 beneath his notice. The church itself is a handsome struc-. 
 ture, and the convent conveniently laid out. Of father Ste- 
 
 fano^ 
 
235 
 
 fano, who appeared a sensible man, we learned a variety of 
 particulars relative to the foundation, the privileges, and re- 
 venues of the convent, which cannot interest you: he corn- 
 plained severely of the encroachments on the part of the 
 chapter at Capri, and the frequent lawsuits to which they 
 were obliged to resort, in defence of their rights and pro- 
 perty ; adding, with a smile, " You see, sir, holy congre- 
 gations are not free from all the passions incident to human 
 nature ; perhaps, while exempt fVom some, they launch into 
 others with the greater violence." — Every word this venera- 
 ble priest uttered, betrayed a man of no common intellectual 
 powers, divested of the prejudices often met with in persons 
 of his calling. After viewing his cell, where he shewed us 
 several ingenious optical machines, the fruit of his leisure 
 hours, he took us to the refectory, and requested we would 
 accept of some refreshment, observing, that the bread of 
 their convent was admired even by the Neapolitan honvivants, 
 and would, he hoped, not be refused by an English heretic. 
 The latter epithet, although evidently applied to me by 
 way of innocent pleasantry, was " grist to D. Michele'smill." 
 — " Ah! holy father," repliedhe, " would to God my com- 
 panion were nothing worse ! He is a philosopher, an atheist, 
 a pagan, a Protestant, and every thing that is bad: my 
 house, in which he lodges, will want purification from top 
 to bottom, when he is gone. Nothing but what he sees with 
 his own eyes, except it be some tale or other of his favourite 
 classic authors, will he credit. The manifold miracles of 
 our protector, St. Januarius, attested by a host of pious 
 writers, he looks upon as so many fabulous traditions; he 
 is incorrigible, obstinate, and perverse beyond belief What 
 pains have I not taken to turn his thoughts to the contemp- 
 lation of the blessings of the true faitli 1 All to no purpose, 
 a heretic he came, a heretic he will depart. ' 
 
 '' Your efforts, Signor Don Michele," rejoined the friar, 
 
 H u 2 with 
 
^36 
 
 with mildnesf?, " although unsuccessful, will be accounted 
 for to you in the other world ; but, as I have no doubt your 
 friend is an honest man, I shall make no scruple in drinking 
 a glass of rosoglio with him. Here's to his speedy con- 
 version." 
 
 The rosodio was as excellent as the sentiments of this 
 enlightened and worthy Carthusian. I would fain have 
 listened to this instructive discourse for many hours, had the 
 purpose of oUr excursion admitted of prolonging our stay. 
 After thanking him for his civilities and kindness, I departed 
 with my friend, in order to pursue the ulterior objects of our 
 invest iirat ion : observinir to the latter, rather mischievouslv 
 I own, that if any man were capable of making a convert of 
 me, it would be one of father Stefano's liberal and enlight- 
 ened principles: to which he replied, in a sarcastic and 
 surly tone, " I believe you, sir ; for as it is, I suspect his 
 principles are pretty much akin to your own.'* 
 
 But to return to my topogi-aphical dissertation. — Where 
 did I leave off? — Oh! it was at the four "Teat mountains in 
 the western part of tlie island. Thev are done with ; so we 
 shall now proceed to the town of Capri. Its situation, al- 
 though considerably elevated, is in a vallev, in the narrow 
 part of the island, about half a mile from the sea shore. The 
 number of inhabitants were stated to us to amount to about 
 2000; and its circumference may be one mile. It has a 
 cathedral, which scarcely deserves that name, its structure 
 being perfectly ordinarv. Near the cathedral is the palace 
 of the archbishop, a plain, but solid building ; and opposite 
 to the latter, a seminary for young persons destined for the 
 clerical profession. There is close !)y, likewise, a conser- 
 vatorio for the instruction of girts. The deans of the chap- 
 ter live in detached houses; their revenue, derived partly 
 from lands and farms, and in a great measure also from the 
 
 sale 
 
237 
 
 sale of quails. Is very considerable. The house of the go- 
 vernor, adorned with cohimns and pilasters, also deserves 
 mention, as one of the principal edifices. The whitish stone 
 of which the houses of Capri are constructed resembles that 
 of Malta, and gives their exterior an air of cleanliness and 
 neatness, not always to be found within ; so that small as 
 the town may be, its general appearance, as well as that of 
 its inhabitants, impresses you with an idea, that comfort and 
 ease are enjoyed among theip. 
 
 About a quarter of a mile from the extremity of Capri, 
 our g-uide, the innkeeper's son, directed our attention to an 
 elegant building;, — I would fain call it palace, — surpassing 
 every other edifice on the island, both in regard to its archi- 
 tectural beauty, and the amenity of its enchanting prospects 
 and environs. It was with some degree of national pride, 
 I learned from the man, that it owed its existence to the 
 taste of a wealthy Briton, whose partiality for the island 
 caused him to build it at a great expence, and to furnish 
 it quite in the English style. This gentleman's name, we 
 were told, was Thorold. Here he is said to have spent a 
 great portion of his life, and before he died, to have be- 
 cineathed to the family of Ccmal not only this house, bnt 
 all his property in England. 
 
 To judge from his looks, my amiable travelling companion 
 seemed not less delighted with this information than myself. 
 But I soon found his smiles to be the grin of malice. *^ Well, 
 Sig. D. Michele," said I, with an air of triumph, what do 
 you think of the taste of Englishmen, those tramontane bar- 
 barians, as you are pleased to call them ?" " Gently, gently, 
 carissimo ! Are you sure the architect and the workmen came 
 from i/oiir foggy island ? I doubt it very much. But suppose 
 this Mr. Toroldo had sketched the plan Avith his own hand) 
 and placed every stone himselt, what would a solitary instance 
 
 prove ? 
 
238 
 
 prove? One swallow does not make a summer. Indeed, 
 people of a certain taste are generally observed to possess a 
 great deal of taste." 
 
 What do you mean, sir 
 
 ?" 
 
 " Mean? Why that this countryman of yours, in the 
 course of his classical education, had an opportunity to feast 
 on the delicate fare of some of the classic authors ; that their 
 minute details of the innocent Tiberian frolics roused in his 
 classic breast a classic zeal of imitation ; and that having' the 
 means in his power, he at once gratified his classic longing 
 by settling on this classic spot. Or, to solve the problem in 
 another not less probable manner, that his expatriation from 
 England, and subsequent retirement to Capri, was a matter 
 not of o])tion, but of compulsion. We have had in our own 
 city of Naples two or three of those choice spirits, who fa- 
 voured us ^^ ith their company, because they could no longer 
 remain in their own country." 
 
 This unprovoked and unfounded piece of malice had very 
 nearly exhausted the capacious measure of my patience. 
 I was going to serve Sir Benjamin Backbite in his own coin, 
 \\'hen I recollected myself, by considering his aspersions as 
 solely proceeding from an innate spirit of contradiction ; a 
 mental infirmity, which is amply outweighed by his other 
 good qualities. Don Michele is an exellent father, as good 
 a husband, and an affectionate friend. His wife, who knows 
 his failing, is passionately attached to him ; he is as fond of 
 her ; and rarely fails complying with her w ishes, provided 
 her requests are framed diametrically opposite to her real 
 desire. She has assured me herself, that a great part of his 
 property has been spent in relieving and assisting the dis- 
 tresses of others, and especially the Calabrcse, his country- 
 fnen ; an assertion which I ouglit to credit, when I reflect 
 on his kindness to me on every occasion, and especiallv at 
 
 "the 
 
230 
 
 the time when I was attacked with a sliort^ but violent pa- 
 roxysm of fever, after the visit to the Sybil's cave. Nothing 
 then would serve him but sitting' up a whole night by my 
 bed-side, and administering copious doses of some sudorific 
 nostrum of his own cooking, which I really believe, next to 
 the heavenly climate, terminated the disorder in a few days. 
 
 Now to our island again. 
 
 On leaving the harbour by the gradual ascent towards the 
 town, you perceive to the right, near the sea, a great portion 
 of the walls of ancient Capri, which was differently situated 
 from the modern town. The inhabitants tell you the former 
 was destroyed by Barbarossa. In fact, you have here but 
 two answers to all your questions. When you ask, who built 
 this or that antique edifice, the reply invariably is Timperio 
 (for thus the islanders call the Roman emperor) ; and the 
 destroyer as invariably is Barbarossa. Thus now on the 
 continent of Italy, and even in other more distant regions of 
 the globe : '' Who tore this altar-piece from yonder sacred 
 walls ? Who plundered this palace or museum of its statues or 
 paintings? Who ransacked this range of presses of its holy 
 treasures presented to the Virgin's shrine by devout monarchs 
 of all ages? — Who despoiled the cathedral of the knights of 
 St. John of the immense treasure of massy plate and jewels? 
 — Who packed up these obelisks and hieroglyphic sarco- 
 phagi with intent to carry them off?" &c. To all these 
 questions the inquisitive traveller receives the monotonous 
 reply, '' It is the vicar on earth of the goddess of liberty, the 
 hero whose sword is destined to reo:enerate the race of man- 
 kind, that eased us of these superfluities, in order to hasten 
 the great work his divine genius has undertaken, and to 
 aua;ment the sTreatness of the jjreat nation, that had the dis- 
 interestedness to become instrumental in the glorious task." 
 
 Your 
 
240 
 
 Your pardon, my dear T. for my garrulity. I have gof^ 
 I see, on my old string again, and am thrumming away a 
 prestissi?no furioso. The analogy of the subject must needs 
 plead my excuse. Ah! could my chattering mend matters! 
 could the efforts of my solitary pen do the one hundredth 
 part as much good as the venom of revolutionary quills has 
 caused mischief, you should, to use the phrase of a great 
 statesman, wait a long while for any apology at all. The 
 successor of Barbarossa and his horde of land corsairs should 
 be made to feel sorely the lashes of an indignant patriot, 
 who auo'urs nothing but ruin and desolation from a continu- 
 ance of their lawless aggressions. — But, alas ! mine is the 
 voice of one preaching in the wilderness ! prostrate Europe 
 yet adores the idol that devours her oilspring ! — However, 
 let us have patience, our tm-n will come in time, I fully trust. 
 We may, I fear (to use the affected consolation of some of 
 our English Galens), be worse off before we are better ; but 
 we shall outlive the storm and its agent. A violent outrageous 
 career carries within itself the germ of its own destruction. 
 
 Qui sceptra daro saevus imperio regit, 
 Timet tiraentcs : mctus in auctorcm redit: 
 Iniqua nunquam regna perpetno maiient : 
 Vt lapsu graviore ruant, toUuntur in altuni. 
 
 SOECA, CtAUDIAN, &. CO. 
 
 To the hero of the present age, I would earnestly recom- 
 mend these four monitory lines. Let him get them by 
 heart, and repeat them daily by way of morning prayer, for 
 the benefit of himself and all mankind. 
 
 Now a truce to all digressions, or else I shall have to ride 
 post through the rest of the island. There is a world of 
 things to be seen yet. To follow^ the order of my ass's-skin 
 (which I faithfully promise to do in future), the great Tibe- 
 rian reservoirs come next : indeed they lie all in the environs 
 of the ruins of old Capri, just mentioned. Their number is 
 
 con- 
 
S4i 
 
 considerable ; but some are quite in ruins, while others re^' 
 main perfectly entire. The two we saw resembled in every 
 respect the piscina mirahile near Bajai, described in one of 
 my early letters. Each consisted of four contig-uous parallel 
 vaults, about fifty feet long ; the w alls which separated tlie 
 four vaults, were broken through by means of five arched 
 apertures, so that the water, which came from the neighbour- 
 ing mountains, flowed from one vault into the other, and 
 thus formed but one grand reservoir. At present tliey are 
 dry, and such as remain entire serve the farmer as wine- 
 cellars and repositories for fire-wood. 
 
 The little church of S"- Costanzo, in the vicinity of these 
 reservoirs, claims the attention of the traveller, on account 
 of its great antiquity. Like the Pantheon and some other 
 Places of divine worship at Rome, or like the principal 
 church at Pozzuoli, S"- Costanzo has, by a lucky transfer, 
 from a pagan temple become a Christian church,and by these 
 means preserved its existence for nearly tvocniy centuries. 
 It is small and plain; but, as you may suppose, of the most 
 simple and solid construction. The latter, together with 
 two pillars o^cipolline marble, proclaim sufficiently its pagan 
 origin. It was the cathedral of ancient Capri, St. Constan- 
 tius being the tutelary saint of the island. 
 
 I have now conducted you, not very methodically to be 
 sure, over every part of the eastern, and most important, 
 division of tliis interesting island. The barren and craggy 
 rocks of the western portion, although the most extensive of 
 the two, afford much less matter for your entertainment or 
 instruction. A tremendous ridge of high mountains crosses 
 it from north-east to south-west. On the very highest sum- 
 mit stand the ruins of an ancient Gothic fortress, and, at 
 its foot, are seen the remains of an amphitheatre, likewise in 
 a state of total decay. This rocky ridge descends into the 
 
 I I sea 
 
242 
 
 sea on the south-side,. where it is inaccessible to any but thfl 
 inhabitants of the island, whose astonishing' nimblencss in 
 fclimbing from one rock to another, might be adduced in 
 support of the tradition, according to which, as I have stated 
 in the beg-inninff of this letter, the first tenants of the island 
 were of the caprine species. — Be that as it may, you may 
 perceive from thence that there is nothing to be seen that 
 way. So I was told, and I took it upon trust, assured that 
 you would do the siime rather than have me break my neck 
 in ascertaining the fact. Besides I must have gone by my- 
 self, for my tViend, far from accompanying me on so hazard- 
 ous an expedition, even refused to follow me in the ascent 
 to Ana Capri, the other town of the island, situate to the 
 north of this hiir-h chain of mountains. But when he saw 
 me determined to undertake tlie journey, and what is more, 
 when I assured him that I should go thither alone, with- 
 out even a guide, if he were resolved to stay behind, his at- 
 tachment niadehim relent; not, however, without a speech, 
 as nearly as I can recollect, to the following import: — " I 
 verily believe, Sig\ D. Luigi, you would make nothing of 
 going to the infernal regions, if there was a classic devil to 
 be seen there. Have'nt you seen enough yet? Have'nt we 
 for these two days run under a scorching sun like mountain 
 goats, or rather like fools, over every rock in this cursed 
 island ? Look at my shoes ! new as they were last Easter, 
 not a pair of slippers will they be fit for when we get home ; 
 not to mention my hat, which the salt water has done for. 
 And what have you got by all this wild-goose chase? Three 
 bits of marble, a whole salm of which you may buy for six 
 grani of any of the lapidary's at St. Lucia, nay, pick up for 
 nothing in his yard. Oh dear! oh dear! you pretend to be 
 ill; why give me leave to tell you, a man that can stand 
 such fatigue must have a very different inside from tiie one 
 you complain of. But be you ever so well, it's ten to one 
 when you get home you'll be laid up again with a fever, as 
 
 you 
 
243 
 
 you were three months a^o. My decoction has saved your 
 life once, it may not have the same effect a second time. 
 Listen to reason for once, and let ns rest ourselves for the 
 remainder of the day, enjoy a good night's repose, and to- 
 morrow return to Naples in good time." — 
 
 " You may do as you please, D. M. ; I shall not leave 
 Capri without having seen Ana Capri." 
 
 • '' Obstinate as usual — English all over. Well ! if it must 
 be it must: but alone you shall not 2:0. The rascals that 
 stole the pigeons out of oin* pie are likely enough to watch you, 
 rob you, murder you, and throw your carcase down a hollow 
 in the rocks, when not a soul will know what has become of 
 you. Much, therefore, as it goes against my inclination, I 
 shall follow you up the mountain. It shall not be said of a 
 Calabrese, that he has abandoned his friend, however extra- 
 yaji'ant he be in his whims,'* 
 
 'O' 
 
 Ye black-gallcd and mesenteric judges of mankind, the 
 affected maxims of whose cold philosophy, from personal 
 experience no doubt, assign to every human action but one 
 spring, that of self interest and egotism, cast your sullen 
 looks on this honest Neapolitan, puzzle your jaundiced 
 brains to find out sophisms whereby to wedg^e his kindness 
 within the narrow precincts of yom* clieerless system: leave 
 but to me the weakness of heart to feel grateful to an affec- 
 tionate Neapolitan, who, eight weeks ago, knew not of my 
 existence, who, except the trifling house-rent I pay him, is 
 under no obligation to me ; and yet, in every one of his 
 actions^ evinces an attachment and a solicitude for my wel- 
 fare, which could not be excelled among friends the most 
 intimate, and of the longest standing. — You too, my dearT. 
 must love, for my sake, this honest mortal and his good- 
 natured countrymen;, and, I am sure, will expect no apology 
 
 I I 2 for 
 
244 
 
 for my dwelling' on a subject so gratifying to my feelings. 
 I wish to stand up the champion of a people whose charac- 
 ter is the very reverse of the picture in which they have 
 been exhibited by short-sighted and malicious vag;abonds 
 (travellers I won't call them.) — But enough of this at pre- 
 sent^ or we shall ne^ er get up the five hundred and odd steps. 
 
 Suffice it to say, that Don jNIichele and your humble ser- 
 vant, after having carefully enquired the bearings of the 
 tortuous road, set out from our miserable inn, in better 
 harmony than had yet reigned between us since our arrival 
 on the island. Ana Capri, I make no doubt, is the only- 
 town or village in the world, which, after having already as- 
 cended to a great height, you can only reach by a staircase 
 of five hundred and fifty-two steps! ! ! cut out of the rock in 
 a serpentine direction. This immense flight of stairs is called 
 La Scalinata ; and the town, on the very summit, is nearly 
 2000 feet above the level of the sea. — When we had passed 
 above 100 steps, my friends spirits began to droop, in pro- 
 portion as his respiration quickened ; and he complained 
 seriously of my excessive haste. He once more was Don 
 Michele in perfection. '' I have always heard say," quoth 
 he, '' that people of an unsound liver are short-breathed. If 
 so, Sig. Don Luigi, I beg leave to congratulate you on the 
 advantage you possess over me in that respect. For God 's 
 sake, don't complain again of your liver ! Why you skip up 
 these rascally steps more nimbly than Mariotti would leap 
 the stage of St. Carlo. But, if I am to keep up at all, you 
 must pull in a little if you please." — To do my friend jus- 
 tice for once, he was not altogether in the wrong : a glimpse 
 of a rustic lass, going bare-footed up the craggy steps, with 
 a huge earthen vessel on her head, and a large pitcher in 
 one hand, a little above us, had excited my curiosity and 
 hastened my pace. On overtaking her (which with all her 
 load, was not an easy matter), I was struck with the beauty 
 
 of 
 
2i5 
 
 of her countenance , her features were more Grecian than 
 any I had yet beheld, in an island which still boasts of many 
 remnants of the Greek contour. She cheerfully informed 
 us, that the contents of her burthen were clear water, which 
 she was in the habit of fetching from Capri, for a farmer at 
 Ana Capri ; the latter place being destitute of that element, 
 except the little rain-water which they collect. Every other 
 drop, therefore, is procured, with the greatest trouble, from 
 Capri below ; and, surprising to relate, for this arduous ser- 
 vice the usual remuneration is four grani per load ; about 
 two pence for descending and mounting, heavily laden, this 
 immense mountain and the endless Scalinata. A little more 
 than half way we rested at a place where there is a chapel 
 and a small terrace, from whence we enjoyed a prospect, not 
 to be depicted, much less described. Don Michele, ever 
 careful of his dear stomach, asked the damsel if there was 
 such a thing as an inn at top, where one might procure some 
 little refreshment. She replied in the negative, but assured 
 him, that in any house there, we should be received with 
 pleasure, and be welcome to any thing it afforded. This was 
 afterwards found to be literally true. At last we arrived at 
 the summit, not exhausted, but certainly greatly fatigued. 
 All my toils, however, w ere forgotten in an instant, I cannot 
 describe to you the sensation I felt after I had mounted the 
 last step. Tasso's description of the gardens of Armida ; 
 what you may have read of the gardens of the Hesperides ; 
 in short, the most luxuriant picture of your own imagination 
 would fall short of the beauties of this terrestrial paradise. 
 As by enchantment, you all at once find yourself in an ex- 
 tensive plain, not of sterile rock, as you might expect, but of 
 the most delightful fields, olive-grounds, orchards, and vine- 
 yards, in the highest state of cultivation, interspersed with 
 the neat habitations of the happy inhabitants. The whole 
 •appears like one immense garden, and may fitly be com- 
 pared to the pensile gardens of Semiramis. To complete 
 
 the 
 
246 
 
 the beauty of the scene^ this heavenly spot is peopled by a 
 race of men, not to be surpassed in beauty and strength. 
 You behold here our species in almost ideal perfection; not 
 a cripple, not a dwarf, not an ailing- individual will you meet 
 \vith ; all, even old age, is beauty, vigour, and symmetry ; 
 and, I am glad for system's sake to add, all is goodness, 
 simplicity, and honesty. Such is the character which uni- 
 versal report assigns to the fortunate Anticapraeans ; whereas 
 their near neighbours, the inhabitants of the town of Capri, 
 are subject to the reproach of a crafty and deceitful dispo- 
 sition. The houses at Ana Capri are open day and night, 
 thieving being entirely unknown among them ; all live in har- 
 mony, and assist each other on every occasion of necessity. 
 The enviable state of happiness they enjoy may in a great 
 measure be attributed to local situation. On the summit of 
 the rock they are almost entirely isolated from the Avorld, 
 and its physical as well as moral diseases. Few are the 
 strangers that think of visiting Capri, and few of these are 
 Avilling to undergo the toilsome journey to Ana Capri. A 
 stranger among them, therefore, is a rara avis, and surveyed 
 with wonder. Many of the inhabitants never quit the island, 
 and, what is more, some have never descended even the Sca- 
 linata. The pure air they breathe and the abundance of 
 wholesome food raised with ease upon their exellent soil, 
 invigorate their system, and, perhaps, even act beneficially 
 on their moral disposition. I shall be laughed at, if I ven- 
 ture to assert the possibility of the latter being even advan- 
 tageously influenced, by the immensity of the beautiful 
 prospect constantly before them. Yet I cannot help think- 
 ing, that such an exalted situation must contribute to expand 
 the heart, and render it more susceptible of noble, or at 
 least, good emotions, than the pesilential effluvia inhaled in 
 a St. Giles's cellar can be supposed to do. — If so, an elevated 
 spot, like Ana Capri, would, perhaps, be the most eligible 
 place of exile, for ameliorating and reclaiming the charac- 
 ter 
 
S47 
 
 ter of condemned malefactors. Tlils^ however^ only as a 
 speculative hint. 
 
 We had scarcely set foot on even ground, when Doil 
 Michele would enquire for a place to recruit his strength^ 
 and it was w ith reluctance that he agreed to a quarter of an 
 hour's delay; during- which 1 represented to him^ that we 
 should have time to look about us a little, and see how the 
 land lav. In our stroll we came to the very edge of a most 
 tremendous abyss, but a parapet, which girds the whole 
 plain, secured us from every apprehension of danger. 
 
 Here we beheld the whole Tyrrhenian Sea, with its nu- 
 merous and picturesque islands ; the Gulph of Naples, Ve- 
 suvius, Misenum, and a thousand objects of interest. With 
 a telescope, which I had unluckily left behind, we might 
 have seen even Giieta. The highly oxygenated air I breathed 
 (I might say tasted), elevated the spirits of my whole frame; 
 I felt like another man in another world. I could not help, 
 at the moment, drawing a parallel between the state of 
 innocent tranquillity this spot is blessed with, and the noisy 
 bustle which at that same instant reissued in our Stock Ex- 
 change ; the open serenity painted on every face we here 
 met, and the sordid and disgusting features caricatured on 
 the anxiously distorted countenances of many a hunter of 
 scrip and omnium. — Come hither, I addressed in my 
 thoughts those never happy worshippers of Mammon, here 
 the grating of the shifting weathercock will not disturb the 
 peace of your narrow souls ; no packet from Hamburg, no 
 messenger from Paris, w ill import your destruction : in un- 
 ruffled tranquility you may here glide down the tide of your 
 mortal career; and here no famished heirs Will gape for the 
 pelf which you never knew how to enjoy. 
 
 My meditations were interrupted by the arrival of the 
 
 young 
 
248 
 
 yoim"" ■woman we had seen on the Scalinata. " My master^ 
 o-entlemen," she kindly addressed us, '' would be glad if 
 YOU woidd honour him with your company at his house, to 
 rest yourselves, and to partake of some refreshment after 
 your fatiguing journey. — " Mmo vcnimmo*," replied, with 
 eager exultation, my famished companion; and without 
 waiting to learn whether I accepted the invitation, accom- 
 panied the lass instantly. I had, therefore, no alternative 
 but that of following likewise. — At the door of a small, but 
 neat house, we w ere welcomed with respectful cordiality by 
 a middle-aged peasant, who conducted us into a rustic 
 parlour, in which his wife and daughter were busily occupied 
 in weaving silk ribbons. Both curtsied to us with great 
 modesty, and Teresa, the daughter, at a nod from her fa- 
 ther, wiped the table with her apron and left us, the mother 
 following her. In a few minutes they returned, and the 
 table was spread with bread, butter, cheese, wine, cherries, 
 and strawberries. You may suppose my friend did not wait 
 to be asked to help himself I could not forbear smiling, 
 when, in addition to this plentiful rural repast, I saw him 
 produce from his pocket about four inches of our Bologna 
 Sausaw-e, \^hich, to preserve its flavour, he had carefully 
 wrapped up in his pocket-handkerchief This course he 
 Iiad to himself, as I was perfectly satisfied with our hospi- 
 table fare. The butter and cheese were excellent, and the 
 wine good. The wine of Ana Capri is white, whereas that 
 of Capri is red ; both are well flavoured. While we partook 
 freely of every thing, I obsers^ed Teresa taking her father 
 aside, and whispering something into his ear, to which he 
 shook his head, saying repeatedly, " It is not proper, it is 
 not indeed!" From her reply, I could gather that the con- 
 vei'sation turned upon something that concerned us, as I 
 overheard her saying, " Do let me ask him !" My curiosity 
 
 being 
 
 * Wc arc coining directly. 
 
9A9 
 
 being- excited, I interrupted their secret conference by de- 
 manding; if there was any thing- in which we could be of 
 service to these good people. '" Oh very much indeed, if 
 you can write/' replied the lively Teresa. The father in 
 vain bade her hold her tongue; after some awkward strug- 
 gles between both, he opened the important case as follows : 
 '' My daughter, you must know sir, is a silly girl : about 
 three weeks ago she went with quails to Naples, where she 
 made a fool of herself with a soldier" 
 
 " A corporal," interrupted the love-sick maiden, '' aye, 
 and the handsomest man in the whole regiment. You should 
 see him in his uniform." 
 
 But I will not detain you with the tedious detail of a lover's ] 
 description. Suffice it to say, that the burden of the tale 
 turned out to be a pledge of this said corporal to marry the ■ 
 young woman ; a promise which he appeared to have for- 
 gotten, or to have been prevented from realizing, during the 
 immense lapse of time of three iceeks : that she had received 
 no letter or even message from him, and that being desirous 
 of addressing him in written language, she had pitched on 
 me as the organ of her important communications. 
 
 I offered to be the verbal messenger of any thing she 
 wished him to be made acquainted with, as we were going 
 to Naples the very next day. That would not do; it must 
 be a letter, to shew that she was in earnest, and to have, at 
 least, a letter in return.— Anticipating now my compliance, 
 the nimble Teresa vanished and returned on the wings of 
 love with a miserable apparatus of penmanship, borrowed 
 from a less unlettered neighbour. — Two years ago, my dear 
 T. when you and I were daily employed in analyzing ****, 
 who would have dreamt that, on such a day two twelve- 
 months afterwards, I shoud be sitting on a rock 2000 feet 
 
 K K above 
 
above the level of the Gulph of Naples^ inditing a Idte-lefter 
 in the Italian language, then almost unknown to me ; not 
 in my own bchalt^ but for a pretty country girl, to her mar- 
 tial sweetheart? Oh! the vicissitudes of sublunary aflairs! 
 That I took care to address the enviable swain with " Cuore 
 mio*/' and that 1 was brevity itself in a task so novel and 
 unexpected to me, you may well imagine ; although father^ 
 mother, and daugliter had alternately a hand in the pie. 
 The primeval simplicity of the parents, assisting in their 
 daughter's cause, was what delighted me most, as affording 
 a convincing proof of the uncorrupted state of the morals of 
 this interesting community. — When this important dispatch 
 was completed, a small difficulty presented itself, which w^as 
 nothing less than the absolute ignorance on the part of the 
 inamorata, of the surname of the object of her flame. " Cor- 
 poral Carlo" was all the direction she could give, but she 
 was sure I could not mistake him, if I w ent with the letter 
 myselt^ as he was the best-looking man in the corps ; black 
 eyes, black hair, tall, well mad e^ in short, everything that was 
 handsome. Besides, by mentioning her name, I should 
 soon know whether I delivered the letter to the right person. 
 — With these circumstantial and minute directions I pro- 
 fessed myself satisfied, and promised faithfully to take all 
 the pains in my power to find out her man, and (what 
 pleased her above all things) to obtain an answer for 
 her; nay, if, as it was probable, he could not write, to pen 
 the answer for him. So that if I am lucky enough to suc- 
 ceed in my quest of him, 1 shall ludicrously enough act in 
 the double capacity of addresser and respondent. 
 
 Poor Teresa was now as happy as a queen ; one could* 
 perceive how convinced she felt that she could not have se- 
 lected a fitter person than myself to be the charge d'affaires 
 
 of 
 
 •» Mv dearest heart'. 
 
251 
 
 bf her matritnonial negociations. Not content w itli testify- 
 ing her gratitude by the warmest expressions of thanks, she 
 went out of the room and returned with a rosary, which she 
 begged my acceptance of as a keepsake. 
 
 " U71 rosario a un eretico ?" exclaimed loudly the wicked 
 Don Snarl. This single word struck the whole family like a 
 thunderbolt; their astonishment was heightened into horror 
 by an additional illustration, which, by way of riders the 
 great kindness of my companion prompted him to tack to his 
 unseasonable information. — " It is of no use to him," added 
 he, '' except, perhaps, he convert it into a dog's-collar, 
 which 1 dare say will be the case." — Conceive for a moment 
 the situation I was in at that moment, and the work I had 
 all at once cut out for me by this man's malice. I instantly 
 put in an affidavit, pleading not guilty, and setting forth the 
 defendant's truly christian-like principles. To my great 
 surprise and comfort, Teresa now voluntarily stood up my 
 counsel, averring the improbability of Don Michele's keep- 
 ing company with me, if his impeachments were founded 
 on a true bill ; she therefore supposed the whole to be a joke 
 of his, and she had no doubt I would instantly confirm her 
 statement by ocular demonstration. The ordeal impo.sed 
 on me was such as my conscience enabled me to undergo 
 without the least scruple. I forthwith, therefore, dipped my 
 finger into the holy water contained in the receptacle under 
 a pewter crucifix near the door, and by the sign of the cross, 
 and a wink of the eye, silenced my accuser. In hoc signo 
 vici, and harmony was again restored among all parties. 
 
 Evening now began to draw near, and with it the time 
 for taking our farewell of our kind host. Pecuniary remu- 
 neration for our generous reception, I found by a little 
 sounding, was utterly out of the question. I would at that 
 moment have paid four times its value for a little trinket, to 
 
 BL K ^ leave 
 
'252 
 
 leave with the innocont and amiable Teresa : I had nothing 
 to 2'ive, but tlie hare thanks of an overflowina; heart; I felt 
 keenly my poverty, but there \Yas no remedy, I therefore 
 shook hands v.ith the old couple, and asking Teresa if she 
 had not a kiss to send to her beloved, obtained a fidei 
 comiimsmn,'\\^\<(^\ our national ci-istoms (unknown to the 
 poor damsel) permit me to embezzle, rather than transfer to 
 the whiskers of Corporal Ca?lo. 
 
 So highly delighted did I feel with this charming spot, 
 and so g-reat was my regret at leaving it, that I shall strain 
 a point to find time for a second visit before my departure. 
 If I do go again, I shall take another route; travel from 
 hence by land to Sorrento (the ancient Surrentum, which I 
 want to see above all things, not on account of its excellent 
 veal, but for its pristine celebrity), stop once more at Pom- 
 peji in my way, and from the promontory of Minerva pass 
 over to Ca})ri, immediately opposite, in a quarter of an 
 hour's time ; thus avoiding almost entirely the sea, that in- 
 veterate foe to my constitution. 
 
 Before I bring- this unwieldy epistle to a conclusion, I 
 must, according- to my promise, add a few remarks on the 
 Agriculture, plants, commerce, and manufactures of the 
 island. 
 
 Although Capri is little else than a mass of rocks, it is sur- 
 prising to find the hig-h state of cultivation which it owes to 
 the indefatigable industry of the inhabitants. Not only is 
 almost every mountain cultivated up to two thirds of its 
 height, but every foot of ground among the naked and al- 
 most inaccessible rocks is planted with a tree, or, if too small, 
 \\ ith some useful vegetable, such as beans, peas, &c. The 
 stone in general i.^ covered with excellent garden mould, to 
 the depth of about two feet ; but the great declivity of the 
 
 soil 
 
253 
 
 soil obliges them to lay out their ground in terraces, which 
 they support with low walls, so that the fields rise above one 
 another, like so many vast steps of a staircase, which gives 
 them a striking and pleasing appearance. 
 
 The chief produce of their land is wine and olives, both 
 of very superior quality, and in sufficient abundance to ad- 
 mit of considerable exportation. Grain is not so plentiful ; 
 in fact scarcely (and often not) adecpuite to the consump- 
 tion of the island. Their cattle is very beautiful, and the 
 milk of their cows, of which there are about three hundred, 
 excellent. Hence the richness and aromatic flavour of their 
 butter and cheese, already noticed. The number of goats 
 is about 250; and these, by an exclusive privilege, belong 
 to the Carthusian monks. Fifty or sixty horses are kept ou 
 the whole island, and a few mules. 
 
 Of culinary vegetables there is every variety that is to be 
 met with in a southern latitude, in luxuriant perfection. 
 Besides a number of wild aromatic plants of inferior note, 
 the island produces spontaneously, according to Dr. Giraldi's 
 learned accoimt, the following : 
 
 Pistacium Leutens, Lin. the mastic tree of the Levant, in 
 abundance. 
 
 The Cassia in equal plenty, the beautiful verdure of whose 
 foliage adds greatly to the picturesque variety of tints in the 
 Caprean prospects. 
 
 Passerhia hirsuta, Lin. or Timeloca tomentosa, an ele- 
 gant shrub, only to be met with in hot climates, the root of 
 which yields a most pungent acid. 
 
 Daphne gnidium, or Tiihymala, with its beautiful red 
 seed. In the materia medica of the ancients it was used 
 as an astringent in small doses. Taken freely, it is a strong 
 
 poison ; 
 
254 
 
 poison : nevertheless., the partriuges on the island are fre- 
 quently seen to feed on it. 
 
 The Cineraria maritima^ Lin. adorns the fields with its 
 yellow flowers. 
 
 Thymus, or common thyme, is in vast abundance, and 
 diifers from that on the continent only in its superior aro- 
 matic scent. 
 
 The trade of Capri is almost entirely directed to the capi- 
 tal, Naples. Every INIonday and Friday a large boat goes 
 regularly to that city, and affords to such of the Capreans 
 as have no ships of their own, a constant opportunity of pro- 
 curing a vent for their superfluous produce. The wealthier 
 inhabitants have their o^vn boats, which they frequently dis- 
 patch in little fleets of eight or ten vessels to Naples. They 
 are freighted principally with oil, wine — quails, thrushes, 
 and other birds of passage while the season lasts — cow and 
 goat's cheese — fish of every kind, particularly tunny, and 
 coral. — This constant traffic is, as you may suppose, a nur- 
 sery for good seamen ; in fact, the sailors of the island, and 
 especially those of Ana Capri, are celebrated for their expert- 
 ness and skill. 
 
 The manufactures of Capri are inconsiderable, they consist 
 in silk ribbons and fishing-nets. The latter form the occu- 
 pation of men and old women ; whereas the girls and young 
 women of the island employ their leisure hours in weaving 
 ribbons of all colours. The silk is furnished by the Neapo- 
 litan merchants, who pay them merely for the manufacture. 
 What they cam, however, in this way is hardly worth speak- 
 ing of, since for a piece of twelve canne (about four yards), 
 which takes them one day and a half's constant work, no 
 more than twelve grani (about sixpence) is allowed them. 
 
 The Capreans, in addition to their happy and afliluent 
 
 condition* 
 
255 
 
 condition, enjoy considerable privileges. Tliey are permit- 
 ted the free range of the island in their sporting excursions, 
 possess the privilege of going armed, and are entirely ex- 
 empted from paying any taxes to government. The de- 
 fence of their country against the incursions of Barbary cor- 
 sairs is intrusted to their care, for which purpose once a year 
 a muster takes place, when every inhabitant capable of 
 bearing arms is obliged to appear with his firelock, twenty- 
 three balls, and about half a pound of gunpowder. This is 
 a day of great rejoicing among them; there is popping on 
 every rock, and music and dancing conclude the festivity. 
 The anniversary of S^- Constantius, their patron, is likewise 
 celebrated with great eclat, and their guns fire many vollies 
 in honour of their tutelary saint. 
 
 All these important particulars you are Indebted for to 
 the communicative disposition and the national pride of our 
 landlord at Capri, whose treatment we had every reason to 
 be satisfied with. His charge for Don Michele and myself 
 (two days' board and three nights' lodging) amounted to the 
 enormous sum of four ducats and a half (about I8s.) ; and 
 when I gave him the odd half ducat for huona mano, he lost 
 his cap by the lowness of the respectful bow which our ge- 
 nerosity had excited from his good manners. He likewise 
 procured us a passage to Naples in the boat of one of his 
 acquaintances, from whom, he assured us, we would receive 
 civil treatment, and be under no apprehension of being 
 robbed, as we had been in coming. The wind, although 
 fair, was so light that we were seven hours in reaching Naples. 
 The tediousness of our passage, however, was more than 
 counterbalanced by the exemption from sea-sickness on my 
 part, and but slight symptoms of that unpleasant sensation 
 on that of my companion. Yet, notwithstanding this piece of 
 good fortune^ his disposition remained the same ; he grum- 
 bled all the way, and had no sooner set foot on shore 
 
 again^ 
 
2j6 
 
 agaiilj than he solemnly protested that he would not undei% 
 fake such another trip, if, by so doing, he could obtain the 
 fee simple of the Avhole Island of Capri. 
 
 And^ except it were for your amusement^ my dear T. I 
 might add in the same strain^, I would not undertake to 
 write such another letter for the greatest prize in the gift of 
 any learned society in Europe. When I began it about ten 
 days ago, 1 little imagined that it would extend to half its 
 present length. But the desire of collecting into one mass, 
 all I had to say of the Island of Caprij and the ever constant 
 wishof attbrding some light reading for the beguiling of your 
 leisure hours, so animated my pen from page to page, that^ 
 histead of a letter, you now receive a bulky pamphlet from 
 
 Your's, &c. 
 
 * * * 
 
 ^ly dear T. 
 
 LETTER XIV. 
 
 Naples, , 1S03. 
 
 AT last I have it in my power to fulfil an old promise. 
 \ have witnessed the solemn ceremony of the liquefaction 
 of the blood of St. Januarius. 
 
 In one of my preceding letters I informed yon that the 
 execution of this martyr took place in the amphitheatre at 
 Pozzuoli. A pious Neapolitan woman collected some of 
 his blood in two glass phials, which to this day are carefully 
 preserved in a small shrine behind the great altar in the ca- 
 thedral (il Duomo) at Naples. In a vault under the same 
 altar the body of the saint is deposited, and his skull is in- 
 closed in a golden bust, representing the true features of his 
 
 countenance. 
 
257 
 
 countenance. At present, one only of the phials remains 
 full ; the other having, by what means I know not, been 
 deprived of its treasure : and the contents of the former, as 
 you may imagine, have, by the lapse of many centuries, lost 
 their liquid nature, and become a hardened substance ; but, 
 by a perpetuation of miraculous power, the indurated blood 
 regains its fluidity on the phial being brought in contact 
 with the bust above-mentioned. This process alone, how- 
 ever, is, according to Don Michele's information, not all 
 that is required to insure the liquefaction. In the vicinity 
 of Naples there are a few individuals, common peasants, 
 whose genealogy is deduced, without interruption, fi'om the 
 saint himself or his cotemporary relations, and who therefore 
 are considered as having Januayian blood flowing in their 
 veins. It is of course extremely natural, that without the 
 presence of at least one of these descendants of the family of 
 the holy martyr, the miracle will not take place, and that 
 it succeeds the «iore speedily in proportion to the number 
 of Januar«/es that can be assembled to assist at the cere- 
 mony. In proof of this assertion, my devout friend alledged 
 the very recent experiment of General Championnet. When 
 this champion of liberty entered Naples with his unhosed 
 enfans de la patrie, his curiosity, or rather his infidelity, 
 prompted him according to Don Michele's statement, to di- 
 rect the priests forthwith to perform the ceremony before him 
 and his companions, the philosophic worshippers of the god- 
 dess of reason. The priests humbly represented to the ge- 
 neral the impossibility of complying with his commands 
 without the presence of the saint's descendants. " Point de 
 
 c nades, citoyens ; it faut que le miracle se fasse sur le 
 
 champ, sans quoije f...erai vos fiacons et toutes vos betises 
 
 en onille morceaux*." 
 
 To 
 
 * None of your " h— g," citizens; the miracle must be exhibited this instant, or 
 else I'll " smash" your phials and all your nonsense into a thousand pieces, 
 
 L L 
 
258 
 
 To avoid the execution of so horrible a menace^ the 
 frightened priests immediately made an attempt at liquefac- 
 tion. llo^vever, miraculous to behold and to relate, not only 
 every devout ettbrt of theirs proved vain, but even the gene- 
 ral's active assistance and repeated trials to give fluidity to 
 the indurated blood, by means of both natural and artificial 
 heat, were equally unsuccessful. Nothing therefore re- 
 mained to be done but to send for some of the relations 
 of St. Januarius, the nearest within reach ; and a detach- 
 ment of hussars was accordingly dispatched in quest of 
 them. The poor devils, seeing themselves hurried from 
 their peaceful cottages, expected at first nothing less than to 
 share the fate of their holy ancestor ; but on their arrival at 
 Naples, they were treated kindly, and told the object of their 
 mission. A second experiment was now instituted in due 
 form, which, to the utter amazement of the French part of 
 the congregation, and to the inward delight of all the pious 
 Neapolitans, succeeded almost instantaneously. " General 
 Championnet," continued Don Michele, " was so struck 
 with the miracle, that he shed tears like a child, acknow- 
 ledged his error, and, if he had not been .a Frenchman, 
 would, I am sure, have become as good a Christian as I, 
 poor sinner." 
 
 The Neapolitans are treated once or twice every year 
 with this exhibition ; to which they attach the greater im- 
 portance, as they consider the sacred phial an unerring ba- 
 rometer of their national prosperity. If the blood dissolve 
 quickly, they are confident of an abundant harvest of grain 
 and wine, a flourishing commerce, and success in their ex- 
 ternal and internal politics. If, on the contrary, the lique- 
 faction requires a great length of time, they consider that 
 circumstance as an equally certain omen of misfortunes of 
 every kind, an eruption of Vesuvius, famine, pestilential dis- 
 tempers, frequent captures of their vessels by Barbary cor- 
 sairs. 
 
259 
 
 sairs, war with foreign powei's, and, what is worse than all 
 the rest, a visit from the great nation. 
 
 Heretics, like you and me, my dear T. are at liberty to 
 suspect a chemical trick at the bottom of this pretended mi- 
 racle, knowing, as we do, that professor Neumann, at Berlin, 
 long ago produced the same phenomenon by natural means ; 
 but it may be a question, and perhaps a question of greater 
 moment than we are aware of, whether the dupes are really 
 BO much to be pitied as philosophers would have us believe. 
 The vulgar (I use the word by no means in its odious sense), 
 that is to say, nine-tenths, or perhaps ninety-nine hun- 
 dredths of mankind, are not to be led by an abstract system 
 of morality deduced from reason alone, their limited intel- 
 lects and grosser feelings require to be operated upon by 
 more positive and tangible means : hence religion finds its 
 way to their hearts much more readily by the high road of 
 their senses, than through the narrow and tortuous path of 
 their understanding. A certain portion of parade in ritual, 
 therefore, and of ceremonious pomp, assisted by the aid of 
 the fine arts, painting, sculpture, music, and architecture, 
 and even of a little juggling at times, has been resorted to 
 in the various countries and ages of the world This has 
 been particularly the case in southern climates, where ima- 
 gination is more luxuriant and fervent ; so much so, that, 
 southward of the 50th degree of north latitude, the cooler 
 iconoclastic tenets of Reformation have, with few excep- 
 tions, not been able to supplant the more sensual imagery 
 of the Catholic church ; which, singular to observe, has 
 maintained its footing in every part of Europe where the 
 heat of the climate permits the growth of good wine. In- 
 deed, like the vine, religion seems to partake of the soil to 
 which it is transplanted. In the same manner as the cold 
 German hock-grape in time produced the fiery Constantia 
 in the rich and heated soil of the Cape, so v, e may account 
 
 L L 2 for 
 
260 
 
 for the variety of shades which the simple and pure tenets 
 of the Gospel have assumed on being transplanted^ from the 
 meagre rocks of Syria^ to Rome, Constantinople, Armenia, 
 Abyssinia, India, and China. In the latter country, the 
 conversion wrought by the missionaries is little more than 
 nominal ; as the pious preachers candidly confess, that, with- 
 out allowino- the continuance of numberless absurdities of 
 Chinese paganism, they should make no converts at all. 
 
 But even the original founders of new religions have in 
 most cases felt the necessity of conforming, more or less, to 
 the national prejudices of their followers. Hence the inno- 
 cent frauds made use of by some theosophic legislators, to 
 render their tenets more acceptable and more adapted to 
 the sphere of their untutored disciples. Numa, I am sure, 
 laughed as much in his sleeve when he retuiiied to his su- 
 perstitious Latians from Egeria's cave, as Mohammed when 
 he recited to his fanatic Arabians a new chapter, still warm 
 from the pretended inspiration of the angelic messenger. 
 All adapted their doctrines more or less to the character of 
 the people for whose belief they were intended, and even to 
 the climate. With this view the Mussulman creed enjoins 
 frequent ablutions, because that practice is not only condu- 
 cive to the liealth of the inhabitants of a southern latitude, 
 but even agreeable to them. Mohammed's regions of bliss 
 are a scui^iual paradise, such as must prove to the voluptuous 
 Oriental the highest incitementin the regulation ofhis actions: 
 his place of damnation (and indeed that of every religion 
 issuing from the East) is rendered horrible by the excessive 
 heat which waits the transjiressors of his law : whereas 
 some of the northernmost pagans, and, I believe. Christians, 
 look for 90 degrees Fahrenheit below in the abode of the 
 damned. I say, even Christians, for I have heard of a tra- 
 veller who, in his tour to Lapland, took up his residence at 
 the house of the curate of a village which afforded no other 
 
 accom- 
 
Ml 
 
 accommodation. On the ensuing Sunday he attended divme 
 service; his host descanted in the most energetic manner on 
 the torments of hell, which, to the stranger's great surprise, 
 he described to the congregation as a dreary region of such 
 intense cold^ that the very morsel in their mouths -would 
 freeze to their tong-ue. On their return from church the 
 traveller complimented the clergyman on the eloquence he 
 had displayed in his excellent sermon, but expressed his 
 astonisment at his depicting/with such frigid colours, a place 
 which was on all hands admitted to be the non plus ultra 
 of insufferably scorching heat. '' I know that as well as 
 yourself," replied the pulpit orator; '' but can assure you,- 
 that were I to tell my parishioners so, they would do every 
 thing in their power to get thither to warm themselves." 
 
 Talk of digressions, my dear T. ! By some means or 
 other I have got insensibly and in the neatest possible man- 
 ner, from the suffocating heat of the church of S"*. Chiara to 
 the chilling deserts of Lapland. Luckily for you it is the 
 Ultima Thule, beyond w^hich the flights of my fancy are, geo- 
 graphically at least, impossible. Having therefore gone up 
 the hill, nothing remains but to come down again with the 
 sobriety and sang froid of a writer who soars independent of 
 his readers. You give me credit, I dare say, for so much 
 talent of concatenation as would make it a mere trifle for 
 me to perform this southward descent, not by a saltmn mor- 
 tale, but by easy stages down the map of Eiu'ope. Indeed, 
 in my mejnorandum now before me, I have six or seven dif- 
 ferent places and ideas prettily associable, by which I might 
 conduct you, comme ilfaut and a voire aise, to Naples again ; 
 but I find, to do it in a workman-like manner, it would 
 take me, at a moderate computation, one page and a halt 
 of close letter-press, (the time I do not mind idler as I am in 
 this part of the world), a quantum of space which I cannot 
 in all conscience devote to mere form. — For a leap then!! 
 Sauve quipeut ! The. 
 
262 
 
 ^he sacred ceremony of liquefaction was this time to take 
 place in the simply elegant church of S^. Chiara^ as the ex- 
 hibition is not confined to any particular spot. Frequently 
 it is in the cathedral, but other churches are occasionally 
 favoured with the honour of witnessing- the miracle within 
 their walls. — Don Michele had for more than a week past 
 expressed the greatest anxiety about my attending. He 
 considered my going, if not altogether as the means of a 
 speedy conversion, yet as the surest way to impress me with 
 the superiority of his faith to my persuasion. Yet, strange 
 to tell, when I requested his company, he declined the fa- 
 vour, under the pretence of some urgent business in town. 
 I greatly suspect the true reason of his refusal was, his un- 
 willingness to be seen in the company of a heretic on such 
 an occasion, or perhaps even an unfounded mistrust in my 
 discretion during the solemnity. Be that as it may, I went 
 myself, with an opera-glass in my pocket, in case of need. 
 
 As soon as I entered Spacca-Napoli *, I beheld, although 
 long before the fixed hour, crowds hastening to S^, Chiara, si- 
 tuated in that Street. A decent-looking man, to whom I ad- 
 dressed myself for the purpose, took me under his protection 
 and procured me a place, where, standing on a chair, I had 
 a full view of the church and the high altar, the theatre of 
 operation. The church filled apace and was soon thronged, 
 except a passage from the door to the altar left open for the 
 procession. Some time after 1 had arrived, the chaunting 
 of sacred liymns announced the approach of the procession, 
 which I am sure consisted of the whole clerical etat major 
 of the city of Naples. You may form some idea of the length 
 of this pageant when I inform yon, that the monks from all 
 the convents of Naples walked t\vo and two arranged accord- 
 
 * Literally, Split-Naples ; a street so called, because, crossing the city in a 
 ftlraight line from one end to tlie other, it divides it into two pretty equal parts. 
 
263 
 
 ing to their different orders, Dominicans, Franciscans, Aii- 
 gustineSj Carmelites, Carthusians, Benedictines, Bernard- 
 ines, Theatines, &c. &c. &c. Innumerable banners and 
 images of silv er of great value belonging- to the ditferent 
 convents, were carried between each cons^refjation, and the 
 frankincense issuing from some hundreds of censers soon 
 filled the church with a dense cloud of smoke, which pre- 
 vented me, at least, from seeing distinctly the proceedings 
 at the high altar. I asked my civil cicerone if there was any 
 impropriety in making use of my optic apparatus, as I was 
 veiy short-sighted. " On the contrary, sir," replied he, 
 ^' it is our wish, that every stranger should see as accurately 
 as possible the miraculous function which distinguishes our 
 city above every other place in Christendom ; and to remove 
 all scruples, sir, when you have done with it, I should be 
 glad to have a spy myself." I might have saved the trouble 
 of asking, for I found that the glass magnified the smoke 
 and vapours of the church to such a degree, that I scarcely 
 perceived the bust of the saint on the altar, and the bishop, 
 with his assistants, who had just begun the ceremony of ap- 
 proaching the phial occasionally to the head of its owner. 
 The experiment was continued for more than half an hour, 
 and no favourable result ensued. Sjo-hs and oroans now 
 issued from various parts of the church, and these soon 
 changed into loud and distressful lamentations. The scene 
 soon became truly tragic. Misericordia — ah per I'amor di 
 Dio — Disgrazia del Cielo, and other exclamations of despair, 
 mingled with the most fervent prayers, were heard on all 
 sides ; some shed tears, other clasped or wrung their hands 
 above their heads, and a woman just below me, beat her 
 bosom, nay, tore her hair in the most shocking manner. 
 Three quarters of an hour had now passed in vain attempts ; 
 the whole church Vv as in an uproar, moaning, crying, shriek- 
 ing and every variety of sounds of grief and despair rever- 
 berated through the ancient edifice, when on a sudden the 
 
264 
 
 wavino^ of a white handkerchief from the hi^h altar an- 
 nounced the happy tidings. Almost at the same instant, a 
 salute of heavy artillery from the castle proclaimed, over 
 all Naples, the joyful intellig-ence, which is deemed of 
 such importance, that when the court resides at Caserta, an 
 express is dispatched ventre a terre to communicate it to the 
 royal family. You may easily imagine what a change this 
 fortunate catastrophe instantly wrought in the minds and 
 hearts of the congregation : all now was joy, exultation, and 
 mutual congratulation. For my part, I rejoiced no less at 
 the termination of the performance ; had it lasted ten mi- 
 nutes longer, I should have fainted from the excessive heat 
 and the pestilential air caused by the living croAvd above 
 ground, and the dead buried under the pavement. After 
 expressing my thanks to the kind Neapolitan for his atten- 
 tion and his occasional explanations, 1 hastened to my quar- 
 ters, heartily tired and exhausted with the fatigues of the 
 afternoon. 
 
 I found Don JNIichele in serious converse with a neigh- 
 bour before the gate of our palazzo. " I am glad to see you, 
 Don Luigi," was his first word. '' Tell us candidly, how 
 long did the function last?" — 
 
 " If you mean the time of liquefaction, fifty-five minutes 
 by my watch." 
 
 "■ Aye, I had heard as much ; some great calamity, de- 
 pend upon it, sir, threatens these happy regions. Never, 
 within my recollection, has there been so long a delay. Ah ! 
 sir, we are a ruined nation ; we have been o'oinor- down hill 
 ever since the court seized ecclesiastical property. But come, 
 let us go up stairs and quiet the women ; they are crying 
 like children." 
 
 In one of my first letters I have mentioned to you the sin- 
 gular 
 
265 
 
 gular circumstance of my being an inmate with a family 
 consisting of four perfect generations, all living on one floor, 
 viz. the great-grandfather, 90 years old, and his wife not 
 much less; the celebrated Don Michele (his son), and his 
 consort (now in a family way) ; Don Michele's son-in-law, 
 with his better half (likewise near her time), and their little 
 boy, of four or five years. The whole of this truly pa- 
 triarchal group we found assembled in the sitting-room, 
 some plunged in silent grief, others giving vent to their 
 feelings by copious lachrymal torrents. '' It is but too true," 
 exclaimed Don Michele, on entering the apartment, '' the 
 news our neigbour brought. Fifty-live minutes! aye, fifty- 
 five minutes!! Whatwill become ofus, poor sinners? Such 
 a thino' was never heard of!" 
 
 The nonagenarian, whose facidties are in no wise impaired 
 by his great age, after clearing his pulmonary organs by the 
 frequent rattles of a loose cough (the usual precursor of his 
 long speeches), interrupted Don Michele : 
 
 *' You are wrong, my lad,'' (of fifty odd years mind !) "ii> 
 saying such a thing was never heard of; for I remember, in the 
 year fifty-seven, no, sixty-seven, aye, in the year sixty-seven, 
 the very year poor Gaetano died, this same holy function lasted 
 for upwards of an hour. And surely you must recollect the ter- 
 rible eruption of the mountain w hich followed soon after it. 
 Let me see ! — it was on the 22d of October when it first 
 began, and lasted for three successive days. Why, don't 
 you remember the sand which fell over the whole city ? I 
 am sure our roof was covered with it. — But Signor Don 
 Luigi," addressing himself to me, '^ the power and good- 
 ness of our holy protector are beyond belief : he first gives 
 us warning of our impending calamities, that we may, if 
 we choose, avert them by fasting and prayer ; and even when 
 we ueglect to do so, he is ready to extricate us from our mi- 
 
 M M sery. 
 
266 
 
 sery. For at the very time I am now speaking of, when the 
 rage of the mountain had continued for three days, and 
 when, for ouicht we know^, it mio-ht have lasted three weeks 
 longer, and perhaps destroyed the whole city ; the Cardinal 
 Archbishop Sersale, together w ith the whole chapter of the 
 cathedral, and innumerable ecclesiastics from the different 
 convents, sallied forth in himible and devout procession from 
 the city towards the mountain, carrying the head of our St. 
 Januarius before them. Now mark what I am going to 
 tell you, for I was an eye-witness of the fact. No sooner 
 had they got to the bridge of St. Magdalen, and within sight 
 of the mountain, than a tremendous report was heard from it, 
 louder than if a hundred thousand cannon had been let off 
 at the same time: the shower of hot sand and the eruption 
 instantly ceased; the sky, which had before been utter 
 darkness, became perfectly clear; and, in the evening, the 
 stars, for the first time after three nights, appeared with 
 their usual brightness. Thus, sir, did the infinite goodness 
 of our illustrious protector intercede for his people, and in 
 the hour of trial, obtain divine mercy for us. You are a 
 young man, Signor Don Luigi, your troubles may have to 
 come yet : let this, therefore, be a lesson to you, not to de- 
 spair in misfortunes, but to put your trust in the goodness 
 and mercy of our heavenly Creator, and he w ill not aban- 
 don you." 
 
 A piece of advice of such excellent morality from the lips 
 of this nonagenarian, left a more forcible impression on my 
 mind, than any sermon of regular pulpit delivery could have 
 produced. — What does it signify in what trappings such 
 pure doctrine is dressed up, so its ultimate tendency be vir- 
 tue and benevolence ? — 1 observed to my Mentor, that I was 
 no longer surprised at finding a man of his righteous prin- 
 ciples blessed with so great an age, attended with such 
 good health. " May be you arc not mistaken, Signor Don 
 
 Luiii'i." 
 
267 
 
 Lulgi." replied the old man. However^ would you wish to 
 know by what means I have arrived at this old age? — I'll 
 tell you. — In the year l?34y when the Spaniards took the 
 city from the Austrians, my father lay dangerously ill^ so 
 much so^ that he was given over by the physicians. Full of 
 grief at the idea of losing a beloved parent I went to the 
 church which we call S ^ Maria delle Grazie. You will re- 
 collect having passed it in your rides, when I tell you it is 
 situated without the old walls, just in front of the stream of 
 lava, the remains of which are still to be seen. But, as I 
 was going to say, to that church I went, it being at a small 
 distance from my father's house, near the Nolan gate. There, 
 in silent devotion, I addressed the holy virgin, and begged 
 slie would take from ???y years, and add to those of my father. 
 But what did the virgin do? The very reverse of my prayer ! 
 She curtailed the life of my father, who died ten days after, 
 and added to my years ; pleased, perhaps, at the display of 
 my fdial piety. Thus, sir, do you see me advanced to an 
 age, whicli few people of this, or any other city can boast of; 
 but as to my health, which you erroneously are pleased to 
 extol, I am sorry to say it is but very feeble." 
 
 " Not so strong, I dare say, as it was seventy years ago ; 
 but still you are in full possession of your faculties, you enjoy 
 an excellent appetite .... " 
 
 '' I have a great appetite, true ! but w hat sort of an appe- 
 tite? — a false appetite: although I eat heartily, thank God, 
 I have not the right taste of the victuals; and frequently 
 when I rise from a good meal, I feel as hungry as when I 
 sat down. I could eat the whole day, without deriving any 
 benefit from it.** 
 
 " We know that well enough," interrupted his daughter- 
 in-law, " not a morsel of victuals is safe for him." — The old 
 
 M M 2 man's 
 
268 
 
 man's appetite, or rather voraciousness. Is a subject of ge- 
 neral complaint in this many-mouthed family. He is, more- 
 over, extremely cunning', and will watch the moment when 
 the women have turned their backs, to slip into the kitchen 
 and help himself to yesterday's remains, however carefully 
 stored in the safe. 
 
 Cunning certainly forms a prominent feature in the cha- 
 racter of very old men ; and, in this respect,, another veiy 
 peculiar disposition of my gentleman may afford additional 
 evidence — a disposition, however, by no means agreeable to 
 your humble servant. He loves to alarm the whole house, 
 in the dead of night, by the most doleful groans, mingled 
 with frequent piercing shrieks. The first time he appeared 
 in this character since my residence in the house, I had lis- 
 tened for a few minutes till I was sure the noise proceeded 
 from the room under mine, and evidently from the old man 
 himself Convinced of his approaching dissolution, I has- 
 tily slipped on my morning gown^ and, hurrying down stairs, 
 awoke the family, conjuring them to give their sire due help 
 in his dying moments. His grandson-in-law^ on opening the 
 door, asked if any thing was the matter with me ; a question 
 which I thought the more unfeeling, as tlie old man's groans 
 were heard at the very instant. '' With me ? No, sir, don't 
 you hear your grand-father in the agonies of death? why not 
 fly to his assistance instantly? for God's sake don't lose 
 another moment!" 
 
 " Do not be alarmed. Signer Don Luigi," replied the 
 young man with a smile ; '' our grandfatlier is as well as 
 you are; perhaps better, if the truth were known. He is at 
 his old pranks, and would only derive additional encou- 
 ragement if we wore to listen to his tricks; he would laugh 
 ^t us all, if we attempted to go in to him. 
 
 " Nonsense, 
 
269 
 
 "^ Nonsense, sir, he is expiring-, and I insist on your 
 seeing what is the matter with him. How can you be so 
 unfeeling?'* 
 
 " You shall convince yourself/' rejoined the grandson, 
 '' come along." On entering the apartment, all was hush, 
 and the great-grandfather apparently fast asleep. Starting* 
 up from his pillow, he enquired what was tlie matter ; and 
 when 1 mentioned we had come to assist him, having' heard 
 his groans, he positively denied having uttered a single 
 sound ; adding, " AVhy must you come, Signor DonLuigi, 
 to disturb the rest of a poor old man, with one foot in the 
 grave? Can't you let me enjoy a few hours' sleep? Ah! 
 I guess 'tis this young rogue of my grandson has put you up 
 to this frolic. So you come to make a fool of your old grand- 
 father, you hirhone ! Pray go your way, I beg of you ; go 
 to bedj go to bed, and mind your own business." 
 
 I was petrified at this specimen of the old man's slyness. 
 When I had recovered from my first amazement, I wished 
 him, for my own sake, a very good night ; determined not 
 to be duped a second time. Certainly, in the last moments 
 of the most painful dissolution, he could not have uttered 
 groans more distressing. 
 
 To be sure, to go by his own account, his dissolution i.^ 
 not quite so near at hand, and must, like that of great per- 
 sonages, be preceded by sigTis and omens far more unequi- 
 vocal than his own groans. There is, just under his and my 
 window, an old, but still luxuriant orange-tree, the fragrant 
 blossoms of which, for this fortnight past, have exhaled the 
 most exquisite perfume over my apartments. Now the old 
 man has assured me himself, that, ten years ago, St. Ber- 
 nard appeared to him in his sleep, purposely to inform him, 
 that this said orange-tree would be an unerring zoometer of 
 
 his 
 
270 
 
 his physical existence. Ever since that time, the first thing- 
 the old gentleman does in the moniing, is to go to the win- 
 dow to look at this tree of life, convinced as he is, that, 
 while the tree is alive, he cannot die. There is, we all know, 
 a great deal in faith; and, not improbably, a rooted opinion 
 like the above, may tend to keep him longer above ground 
 than might otherwise have been the case ; and in proof of this, 
 I may state, what Don Michele has told me, that, two years 
 ago, Avhen this miraculous tree had suffered so much by a 
 severe winter, that it lost most of its leaves, and did not put 
 forth new ones at the beginning of the warm weather, the 
 health of his father visibly declined, he lost his false appe- 
 tite, grew languid and sickly, and seriously thought of dy- 
 ing, till the tree, quite late in the season, recovered its life, 
 shot forth fresh buds, and was soon overspread with leaves : 
 then our old gentleman instantly began to revive, his ap- 
 petite returned, and in less than a fortnight he appeared 
 perfectly renovated in strength and spirits. 
 
 I might easily entertain you with some farther eccentrici- 
 ties of the progenitor of this eccentric family, did I not ap- 
 prehend you would look upon my work as a collection of 
 old woman's stories, and regret that the room they engrossed 
 had not been dedicated to some classic or antiquarian dis- 
 quisition on the abundant remains in and about this city. 
 Be fair! Sin'ely you would not have me always talk about 
 temples, pillars, marbles, friezes, aqueducts, statues, and 
 frescoes. ConsidertheWolfian definition of beauty, '' unity 
 and variety," and make an occasional allowance for my 
 attempts at the latter requisite. An epic poem must have 
 its episodes, and why not the epistles of 
 
 Your's, <S:c, 
 
271 
 
 LETTER XV. 
 
 (extract.) 
 
 THE Russian stafF-surgeon's name, who 
 
 accompanied me on this second and most astonishing; visit to 
 Pompeji, was PerninofF; and the French artist who joined us 
 at Torre del Greco, with the communicative readiness of his 
 nation, informed us, that he was the son of a (ci-devant) 
 Marquis deVallignac, had lost his father by the guillotine, and 
 made the campaigns of Flanders and Holland under Piche- 
 gru ; after which he had embraced the profession of a painter, 
 in which, owing to the original bent of his genius, he had 
 made so rapid a progress, that, four months ago, a tableau 
 of his, representing Bonaparte's landing near Frejus, had 
 gained him not only a prize from the National Institute, 
 but the especial patronage of the first consul, who had se- 
 lected him, among others, to travel and reside in Italy for 
 two years, at the expence of the French government. 
 
 On our arrival at the Pompejan gate of wooden bars, a 
 lad informed us, that the keeper had gone in, five minutes 
 ago, with two gentlemen, but that he was ready to conduct 
 us to them if we chose. We overtook them accordingly on 
 the proscenium of the little theatre; the one a Turkish mer- 
 chant, from Modon in the Morea, whose name we soon dis- 
 covered to be Mehemed- Aga ; and the other, his friend and 
 correspondent, a Mr. Denzner, a German merchant estab- 
 lished at Naples. The ex -marquis was the first to remark 
 on the '' hazard comique" to find six persons, every one of 
 a different Emopean nation, united in this spot, and on 
 the good fortune of their being all master enough of the 
 
 Italian 
 
272 
 
 Itiilian language to make use of it as the vehicle of their 
 ideas. From the little theatre we set out on the usual rou- 
 tine tour, taking' in our way the barracks, forum, temple of 
 Isis, the great amphitheatre, then proceeding along tlie high- 
 street to the cemetery and town-gate. From thence we 
 shaped our course to the villa and its appurtenances described 
 in one of my former letters. The wine-cellar and its jars, 
 you may suppose, were not forgotten. Its cooling atmos- 
 phere invited a longer stay than any of the past objects of 
 our inspection ; the time was beguiled by interesthig and 
 animated conversation ; and while the Turk, to his great 
 joy, ascertained the fact of his having, in the battle of 
 Tschesme, been opposed to Perninoff^ ship to ship ; the 
 French artist busied himself in detaching a fi-agment of the 
 dried wine-cake, in order to deposit it in the Musee Napo- 
 loan at Paris. On a sudden, however, a violent crash, from 
 the further end of the vault, accompanied with repeated 
 shrieks, of '' Mine Got, mine Got!" put a stop to his la- 
 bour. Mr. Denzner's curiosity^ it appeared, had induced 
 him to venture beyond the realms of prudent caution in this 
 tej^ra incognita; the flooring gave way, and precipitated him 
 up to his middle in a hollow. To extricate him from so pe- 
 rilous a situation without danger to ourselves, our gui{le's 
 torch was instantly lighted, the rubbish which had rushed 
 after and upon him cleared away, and the sufferer drag-, 
 ged out of the cavity, not materially injured, but covered 
 with bruises, and his clothes torn in several places. " Here 
 are steps," exclaimed Perninoff, on looking down the hole, 
 *' let us see what they lead to." In vain did our guide ob- 
 ject to the proposal of the Russian, urging the strict injunc- 
 tions of government, not to suffer any researches but under 
 public authority. The Turk, drawing his dirk from his 
 ffirdle, threatened to make him a head shorter if he dared 
 to utter a word, or to stir an inch. " Not unlikely," conti- 
 nued he, " but the exploring of this doubly subterraneous 
 
 passage 
 
273 
 
 passage may amply repay us for our trouble; it is m places 
 like these, people are apt to hide their treasures, and I for 
 one shall be of the party." The German protested, that he 
 had quite enough with the first essay, without exposing- him- 
 self to greater risks; and Monsieur le ci-devant Marquis 
 de Vallignac declared upon his honour, that were it to ex- 
 plore an enemy's mine crammed with a thousand barrels 
 of gunpowder, he should enter it ineche en main, with as 
 great a pleasure as he would go to a Parisian ball at Frascati ; 
 but that he had heard the premier consul himself declare, 
 on a quintidi's parade, that to expose oneself to useless 
 perils was foolhardy temerity, not true courage ; he, never- 
 theless, was persuaded, from the honnetete of those gentle- 
 men, who were determined to venture down, that if they 
 found any thing valuable they would let him as well as his 
 companion come in for a share; the more so, as the misfor- 
 tune of the latter had been the cause of the discovery. 
 " Yok, yok," replied the Mussulman, scraping with the 
 inverted hand his under chin. '' The Muscovite, the En- 
 glishman, and myself, shall bear away and keep the prize." 
 The Turk's confidence in English prowess, which induced 
 him to include me in the triumvirate without ever asking 
 me a question, was not a little flattering, and I readily of- 
 fered to form the rear guard, without ever bestowing a 
 
 thought on hepatitis, biliary ducts^ and Dr 's peremptory 
 
 injunctions. 
 
 On a closer examination of the entrance to, as it well ap- 
 peared, the inferior regions, we found that Mr. Denzner's fall 
 had been occasioned by the breaking in of a trap-door of 
 2-inch oak, which, hidden as it was by rubbish and fragments 
 of stone, and untrodden probably during more than 1,700 
 years, had hitherto escaped discovery, and probably would 
 have continued in its pristine state had not the pressure of 
 German corpulency destroyed the little of adhesion between 
 
 N N its 
 
274 
 
 its parts which dry rot had left it. This, as well as the re- 
 mainder of the rubbish being removed, we descended with 
 a g'ood heart : Perninoft', with lighted torch and drawn sword, 
 first; Mehemed, a cocked pistol in each hand ; and your 
 humble seiTant holding the keeper's Ian thorn. At the depth 
 of about forty steps we found ourselves upon even ground; 
 a pungent musty smell of the confined air greatly impeded 
 our respiration, and the chilness of the temperature set all but 
 the Russian a-shivering. Here a door, shut from within, 
 threatened to interrupt our progress, but an argumentum a 
 posteriori, applied by the head of our column, forced it out of 
 its mouldered iron lock, and enabled us to proceed along a 
 narrow vaulted passage, which gradually became so low, 
 that we could only pass on by stooping. Yet this posture, 
 painful as it felt, was not long sufficient to get forward; Per- 
 ninoff reporting, that by the glimmer of his torch he per- 
 ceived the passage terminating in an aperture,'which would 
 not admit us except by crawling through on all-fours. A few 
 seconds' consultation determined us to persist in our under- 
 taking, even on that condition. The principal diflSculty 
 was to preserve our lights in this position, but great care 
 and the shortness of the tunnel overcame it. Once more on 
 our legs, we found ourselves in a chamber, about ten feet 
 square, of vaulted brick- work, dry and clean, but excessively 
 cold. To the left of the aperture by which we had entered, 
 and exactly in the middle of the adjoining side of the quad- 
 rangle, we discovered a diminutive portal, not man's height, 
 a pilastre on each side, an iron door in the middle, and above 
 it an inscription, which, to the best of my recollection, ran 
 as follows : 
 
 D. M. 
 Q. LOLLIVS. EUPATfiR. 
 M. E. CALLIDIAE. F. 
 QVI. VIXIT. ANN. 
 
 V. S. L. M. 
 
 But 
 
275 
 
 But such was the eager curiosity of my companions^ and 
 the intensity of the cokl, of which even our IMoscovite friend 
 now complained, that they woukl not lose a moment in lis- 
 tening to an exposition of this evident yet singular epitaph, 
 nor give any reply to my observation on the oddity of the 
 man's age being left in blank. You may form an idea of 
 our freezing shivers, when I inform you, that no sooner had 
 PerninofF touched the door, than his fingers, wet from the 
 perspiration of exertion, slightly froze to the iron. This 
 door being neither locked nor bolted, opened with ease, and 
 discovered a second apartment, about half-a-yard lower in 
 level than the former, entirely filled with ice or congealed snow, 
 except a marble sarcophagus in its very center, and a nar- 
 row path, of marble likewise, leading across the ice to the 
 sepulchral shrine. Now fancy the sensations of awful asto- 
 nishment, of horror I may say, when, on looking into the 
 sarcophagus, we beheld a human being in the attitude of 
 sleep, not only in complete preservation, but as fresh, un- 
 corrupted, nnfaded, and the dress as perfect as we observe 
 in a man recently drowned. Our Turk shrunk back in the 
 utmost terror, raid crossing his hands, exclaimed '' Alia, ill- 
 alah alia Mohammed resul alia:" but Perninoff, with the 
 utmost sang-froid (less surprising in such a temperature), 
 observed, that similar instances of the preservation of dead 
 bodies had come under his notice, while quartered near the 
 mouth of the river Jenisei, in the northern part of Siberia; 
 with the exception, that those specimens he had seen, had 
 exchanged their vermiilion for a blackish teint, which was 
 not the case with this corpse, since it looked as if deposited 
 but yesterday. As the cold rendered a longer continuance 
 utterly impossible, and as the sight of bare walls indicated 
 of itself the termination of our journey, we resolved to return, 
 and if possible to let Mr. Eupator be of the party. ^' By hea- 
 vens," exclaimed Perninoff, on turning round, '' we have 
 made a fine day's work of it ! there will be one apiece for 
 
 N N 2 us 
 
276 
 
 us to lug out of this infernal place." In truth, poor Mehe- 
 med, overcome by drowsiness^ had, during- our conversation, 
 fallen into a profound sleep on the steps of the sarcophagus ; 
 and his limbs had, in those few minutes, already become 
 nearly as stiff as the Roman's ; another five minutes, and he 
 would have been among the Houris in Mahomed's paradise. 
 As it was, it required our combined strength, aided by the 
 application of the lighted torch to his bare soles, to shake 
 him into life again ; an act of kindness, for which we had 
 the pains for our thanks, for he actually reproached us for 
 our cruelty in waking him from the sweetest slumber he had 
 ever enjoyed. 
 
 A serious question now arose. What place were we to as- 
 sign to our new acquaintance in passing the narrow tunnel? 
 If we attempted to push him out first, it was possible he might 
 stick fast, and by thus blocking up the passage, bury us 
 alive ; to take him last, and pull him after us, would require 
 contrivances not in our possession, and exertions beyond 
 our power in so narrow a pace. " Can't you let him rest 
 where he is, till doomsday?" asked Mehemed, in a surly tone : 
 '" what's the use of puzzling your brains, and risking our 
 lives, for a dead man, a dead heathen too, or a Jew, per- 
 haps ? I, for one, beg to be excused defiling my hands by 
 touching any thing but his ring; which if I may be per- 
 mitted to have, I would value merely as a remembrance of 
 the present event, and as a mark of the friendship of gentle- 
 men of such undaunted courage, and of nations which I had 
 always the greatest regard for." The ring was promised on 
 condition of his lending a large coarse shawl the Turk wore 
 loosely tAvistcd round his neck and shoulders. In this we 
 carefully wrapped the defunct successor of the Horatii and 
 Gracchi, to preserve him from outward injury. Mehemed, 
 with the torch, led the van ; then followed the Russian sur- 
 geon, creeping out backwards, and dragging with one hand 
 
 a bandage 
 
277 
 
 a bandage made of our cravats, passed under the arm-pits 
 of the frozen mummy, in which operation he was mainly- 
 assisted by mCj who, in closing this unique procession, made 
 every effort to propel the body onwards before me. After 
 passing the tunnel, the remainder of our way appeared com- 
 paratively easy, even the flight of steps Perninoff 's strength 
 enabled him to ascend with firmness, although carrying 
 the result of our investigation on his shoulders. No sooner 
 had he reached the upper entrance of the wine cellar, 
 whence we had set out, than, the ex-marquis, who pro- 
 bably supposed one of us had fallen a victim to our 
 zeal, exclaimed, with a doleful accent, '' Ah, mon Dieu ! 
 voici un denos confreres de moins : c'estl'Anglois sansdoute 
 qui a ete la victime de cette folie." — " Un de phis, s'il vous 
 plait, car nous voila quatre au moins," was my answer, ac- 
 companied with my best thanks for his good wishes. — *' Au 
 contraire, monsieur, j'aimerois plutot a voir toute la flotte de 
 Portesmousse aufond de lamer que de souhaiter le moindre 
 mal a un ami si digne et si respectable. Mais voyons done, 
 qu'y-a-t-il de nomeau? une mommie a ce qu'il paroit. 
 Messieurs, je vous, en ofFre cinq cens francs en bons billets 
 sur Paris, si vous me la cedez, ce sera de quoi faire ma for- 
 tune avec le premier consul, qui aime les mommies a la 
 folie ; il en a deux ou trois dans sa chambre a coucher." — 
 '' Ce seroit porter de I'eau dans la Seine que de faire un ca- 
 deau pareil, a un heros, qui s'est montre si habile en cette 
 espece de metier; et qui d'ailleursaura eu soin d'enemporter 
 autant qu'il aura pu ramasser lors de sa fuite de I'Egypte." 
 
 To this. Monsieur de Vallignac had no present reply ; nor 
 was I willing, by a continuation of the dialogue, to lose ano- 
 ther moment; eager as I felt, to examine now at my leisure 
 the features and dress of a departed Roman. The latter 
 was excessively plain and simple. Over a short linen shirt 
 without sleeves, he wore a tunic of white woollen cloth, resem- 
 bling: 
 
278 
 
 bling our kerseymere^ with short sleeves, not reaching to the 
 elbow ; two purple stripes, about half an inch broad, went 
 all round the lower edge of this garment, wliich was very 
 little different from a modern shift ; no stockiuirs or breeches, 
 but a clumsy sort of half-boots made of black leather, and 
 terminating about two inches above the ancles. His features 
 were regular; those of a man nearer fifty thau forty, who in 
 his youth had been handsome ; the nose nearly in a line with 
 the forehead, and the chin almost projecting to the perpen- 
 dicular from the nose ; black bristly hair, with a sprinkling 
 of grey ones : altogether unlike any one I know you are 
 acquainted with ; except, perhaps, were I compelled to make 
 a comparison, the Italian who once taught you the guitar, 
 and whose name has slipped my memory, only that he was 
 considerably shorter than the latter, not exceeding, I dare 
 say, five feet four in height. 
 
 The ring on his finger was formed by two golden serpents 
 winding round each other, elegantly worked, and between 
 their mouths was a beautiful onyx, representing, in deep in- 
 taglio, the infant Hercules strangling the serpents. It was a 
 pity such a precious relic should be thrown away upon a 
 barbarian infidel ; but the Mussulman insisting on our per- 
 forming the given promise, without much ceremony began 
 to extricate the ring from the finger of its owner ; observing, 
 during the operation, that the flesh had already become 
 considerably softer, and the temperature of his skin less 
 cold. 
 
 The Turk had scarcely accomplished his sacrilege, when, 
 to our inexpressible astonishment, Eupator's right arm began 
 gradually to exhibit convulsive starts, similar to the appear- 
 ance of galvanized animals. This strange and unaccount- 
 able phenemon was soon followed by an incessant tremour 
 of the lips, like the quiverings of quick blood. In a little 
 
 time 
 
S79 
 
 time after^ his mouth opened involuntarily, upon which^ the 
 aii% as in a new-born infant^ rushed with a hideous ratthng 
 down his hmgs, from whence it immediately returned in ar- 
 triculated groans ! — Eapator breathes! ! Eupator lives ! ! ! 
 
 On first opening- his eyes^ the resuscitated Eupator sur- 
 veyed for a moment with a wild stare the ruinous vaults 
 calling out faintly as if dreaming^ " Mnestheus^ Mnestheus! 
 give me some drink !" These few words he uttered in Greek ; 
 and although their pronunciation differed greatly from that 
 which I had acquired at school^ I instantly understood their 
 import. But, while I stepped sideways to reach him some 
 water from our pail, his eyes had closed again, and he 
 once more appeared to be sunk in a profound sleep. We, 
 nevertheless, contrived to pour down his throat a small dose 
 of water, mixed with some vitriolic elixir, which the Russian 
 surgeon happened to have by him. This restorative draught 
 seemed to refresh and revive him ; his eyes opened once 
 more with greater brightness than before : he now seemed 
 to perceive us for the first time, and, addressing himself to 
 Perninoff*, feebly exclaimed in Latin, "^^ I thank thee, stranger, 
 for this first friendly office in our unfortunate situation. Tell 
 me, I pray, is the terrible convulsion of nature over already?" 
 Whether, in addressing us in the latter language he thought 
 us natives of Italy, I cannot say, but so much I will assure 
 you, that his accent and pronunciation w ere as distant from 
 the Winchester practice as they differed from the Etonian 
 rules, and would have been utterly unintelligible to me had 
 I not been familiar with several modern languages, especi- 
 ally the Italian. Perninoff*had less difficulty than myself in 
 comprehending his meaning ; but the Marquis, Mr. Denz- 
 ner, and Mehemed-Aga, were forced to impart the little 
 they had to say by interpretation, until the latter, recollect- 
 ing Eupator's first words in Greek, contrived to answer iii 
 the modern Greek, born and bred as he was in the Morea, 
 
 With 
 
280 
 
 With these means of communication we were pretty well 
 enabled to keep up a conversation, the interesting; and 
 singular nature of which so deeply impressed itself on 
 my mind, that I think I shall be able to trace to you its 
 progressive course with a tolerable degree of fidelity, oc- 
 casionally substituting dialogue in the place of historical 
 narrative. 
 
 EuPATOR {io Pernhioff). I thank thee, stranger, for this 
 first friendly ofl[ice, in our unfortunate situation. Tell me, 
 I pray, is the terrible convulsion of nature over already ? 
 
 Pern. Fear nought, Eupator, the danger is past, and 
 you are among friends, desirous of giving you every assist- 
 ance in their power. 
 
 Eup. The gods be thanked for their protection ! But 
 pray, has Flotilla, my wife, has Mnestheus, my freedman, 
 escaped the fury of the devouring elements? 
 
 Pern. Compose yourself, my friend ! it will be time 
 enough to talk of those matters when you have recovered 
 more of your strength and spirits. Do you wish to eat some- 
 thing — it shall be sent for instantly? 
 
 Eup. Alas ! 1 augur no good from thy evasive answer. 
 Be candid, stranger, for thou art addressing a man whose 
 life has been spent in the pursuits of philosopliy ; of that 
 philosophy which teaches us to bear the most unwelcome 
 tidings with the same equanimity as it enjoins us to hear 
 joyful news. Speak, I beseech thee. 
 
 Pern. In complying with your earnest entreaty I shall 
 lessen the grief which the loss of your house, your city, your 
 friends, and vour wife, must cause to you, by adding, that, 
 
 had 
 
281 
 
 had tliey survived the catastrophe, the lapse of many centu- 
 ries would have consigned their existence to as great an 
 oblivion as if they had never lived at all. You are the only, 
 the miraculous relic of the age of Titus. 
 
 Here Enpator heaved a deep sigh, and after a short pause 
 exclaimed, with tears in his eyes, '' Farewell then, (Ave ! ) 
 my good, my tender Flotilla, and thou, gentle and faithful 
 Mnestheus ! Your friend Eupator will not long survive your 
 loss. All, all, then, is devoured by the raging element ! I 
 thank thee, friend, for thy tidings : sad as they are, it is a 
 consolation to know the utmost limits of a misfortune. I 
 also thank thee for what thou hast added, w ith an intent of 
 comforting my mind. It is but too true, that in a few cen- 
 turies hence our existence will be forgotten by posterity, un- 
 less we have rendered our name immortal by some great 
 deed, or some writings worth the notice of after-generations. 
 But thou art deceived if thou supposest me the only survivor 
 of my family. Thanks to the gods, and the kindness of our 
 good emperor, my son Lucius has likewise escaped the wreck 
 of his paternal city. Ever since last Saturnalia he has left 
 us for Britain, where the emperor has been gracious enough 
 to give him a cohort in the 14th legion, and where, by his 
 last letter, he has distinguished himself in an action against 
 the Brigantes. May the gods grant him health, may they 
 preserve him from the treachery of a savage set of barbarians, 
 and conduct him safe into his disconsolate father's arms." 
 
 Unable to brook so direct an accusation against the 
 character of Britons, I assm-ed the haughty Roman with 
 some warmth that treachery had ever been a stranger to 
 them, and that whatever might have been their savage dis- 
 position in earlier times (a reproach applicable to all inci- 
 pient nations), so little was there left of it at this day, that 
 in the liberal arts, as well as in every branch of science, they 
 
 o o were 
 
282 
 
 ^vere justly held inferior to none, and superior to most coun- 
 tries of the globe; an assertion, of the truth of which I 
 pledged myself to convince him, if he would accompany me 
 on my return to England in about a fortnight's time. 
 
 Eup. Pardon me, Briton, if what I have said offended 
 more than I intended. I applaud thy zeal in thy country's 
 cause, well or ill founded. Patriotism is the germ of great 
 and noble deeds, such as have raised whole nations to a 
 proud pre-eminence over their rival neighbours. But thy 
 invitation to accompany thee to thy cold and sterile country, 
 my age and the re-establishment of my affairs forbid me to 
 accept. One favour only I shall, therefore, ask from thee; 
 I shall trouble thee with a letter for my son Lucius, whose 
 friendship and influence with our prefect of thy island will 
 prove beneficial both to thee and thy family; and if thy 
 trunk should Avant filling up, a tunic or two, together with 
 
 a sword-belt embroidered by the hand of his mother Plo ''' 
 
 Here a gust of tears interrupted the affectionate father's 
 speech : with a hurried and sobbing utterance he only added^ 
 '' Alas, Plotilla! thou and thy presents are no more." 
 
 Mr. Denzner, with a goodness inherent in the German 
 character, entreated Eupator not to make himself uneasy 
 about the re-establishment of his aflairs, as there w as no 
 doubt but the court of Naples, in consideration of the singu- 
 larity of his situation, would settle a handsome pension on 
 him for life, until which he very obligingly offered him his 
 country-house, on Posilipo, and the command of whatever 
 money he might stand in need of, 
 
 " Citizen Eupator," exclaimed Monsieur le Marquis de 
 Valliguac, '' will stand in need of no assistance from the 
 court of Naples, or from individual liberality. To-morrow 
 mprcces z-erhal of this strange event goes to tlie first consul, 
 
 and 
 
283 
 
 anil ill less than a fortnight our antique stranger will be 
 summoned to Paris, where he will have the honour of re- 
 porting- the particulars of his miraculous history to the mo- 
 dern Ctrsar, our first consul, who will assign him a generous 
 stipend on the national treasury, worthy of the great nation^ 
 and in all likelihood employ him about his august person. 
 It is your good fortune, citizen Eupator, to have come to 
 light again, at a period when the destinies of that nation, 
 as well as of the whole world, are guided by a mind infi- 
 nitely superior to your Caesars and Augustus's ; tyrants, Vvho 
 reared their empire on the expiring liberties of their coun- 
 try: whereas Bonaparte, by destroying the five-headed 
 hydra of the Directory, has emancipated his fellow citizens 
 from their bondage, restored the French republic to its li- 
 berty, and, chosen by the unanimous consent of the people 
 to the temporary dignity of first consul, sacrifices his health 
 and his comforts to make France the greatest, the happiest 
 nation in the universe." 
 
 Poor Eupator, who was by no means familiarized with his 
 present situation, alternately stared at the two last speakers, 
 but more particularly at the ci-devant marquis ; and then 
 fixed his looks on the ground, with much the same sort of 
 musing astonishment as we are wont to feel at a person who 
 attempts to impose on our silent good-nature a string of 
 Munchausian achievements. At last, with an evident effort 
 to pass over all that was unintelligible to him, he expressed 
 himself as follows : — 
 
 Eup. Your liberal oflTers of assistance, my friends, I take 
 kindly : happily, fortune has placed me in a situation not to 
 stand in need of them. The ruin of my house and effects at 
 Pompeji, and perhaps the destruction of my farm at the 
 foot of the hostile mountain, as well as of the salt-pans at 
 llerculaneum— these, it is true, are severe losses ; still, what 
 
 o 2 remains 
 
284 
 
 remains fortunately exceeds that which is gone. Besides 
 my paternal estates in and about Methone^ in the Pelopon- 
 nesus, the bounty of our good emperor Titus has, as a re- 
 ward for my services to him and his divine father in the late 
 Judaean campaign, presented me with confiscated lands of 
 rebellious Jews in the vicinity of Jerusalem, Avhich last year 
 yielded upwards of three hundred thousand sesterces, and 
 which, under an improving administration, may be made 
 to rent double that sum. 
 
 At the mention of Methone, Perninoff unfortunately had 
 whispered to the Turk, " That's Modon, the tow n you come 
 from." Mehemed-Aga, who understood no joke, instantly 
 joined the conversation." 
 
 Mehem. As to your lands about Jerusalem, Eupator- 
 Aira, Daezzar-Pacha no doubt will take as o^ood care of 
 them as if they were his own. But with respect to your 
 estates at Modon (or Methone, as you are pleased to call my 
 native place) give me leave to ask you whereabouts they 
 might be situated ? 
 
 Eup. Methone thy native place? Why, to judge from 
 thy Parthian dress, I should have supposed thy home to be 
 nearer the Euphrates than the limpid waters of the Pamisus. 
 But leaving that point as it is (since, to speak the truth, the 
 habits of you all are more like the mummery of a saturnaliaii 
 frolic than any real costume), I can answer thy question in 
 a moment. My property extends from the mouth of the lit- 
 tle river that empties itself into the Ionian Sea, near Methone, 
 along its right bank, (which forms the boundary) to a length 
 of about nine stadia, as far as the ancient temple of the 
 Dioscuri, at an average breadth of 2j stadia, the principal 
 aqueduct of our town crossing it in a diagonal direction. 
 
 » Mehem. 
 
285 
 
 Mehem. Does it indeed? very pretty to be sure! What 
 should you say. Master Eupator, if the best part of that do- 
 main which you have described with so much precision, was 
 the marriage portion of one of my wives. The rubbish of the 
 temple you mention disfigures one of my finest olive-grounds ; 
 and as for the aqueduct, the last remains of it have fur- 
 nished me with excellent materials to erect a neat little 
 mosque, the resort of a thousand devout Musselmen, espe- 
 cially in Rhamadan time, owing to the fountain of excellent 
 water, which serves them for their pious ablutions. On this 
 score, therefore, you need not trouble your head any long-er, 
 for all that tract is lawful property of mine, as I can prove 
 by the title-deeds in my possession. 
 
 Eup. (With irritation). Thy lawful property, insolent 
 Parthian, whose trade is robbing and pillage ? Thou shalt 
 know better, ere long", I promise thee ; for, although my 
 title-deeds may have been destroyed by yesterday's cala- 
 mity, proofs will not be wanting to assert my right. The 
 boundaries of my estate are accurately described in the re- 
 cords of the decurions of Methone, and it was but last kalends 
 of July that I paid the land-tax on it to Vibius Clemens, the 
 collector. Depend upon it, the proconsul of Achaja, Flo- 
 tilla's uncle, will find no difficulty in deciding between the 
 just claim of a Roman citizen, and the flimsy pretensions of 
 a barbarian swindler, a madman^ a 
 
 The abusive warmth of our philosopher had well nigh 
 cost him dear ; for the enraged Osmanly, without waiting 
 for its conclusion, drew his chan-giar, and would have run 
 him through, had not Mr. Denzner and the Frenchman, 
 who stood behind him, by seizing his arms, prevented him 
 from accomplishing' his bloody purpose. " Est-ce ainsi, 
 citoyen Turc," exclaimed Monsieur le ci-devant Marquis 
 de Vallignac, " qu'on assomme le monde chez-vous? Voici 
 
 une 
 
286 
 
 line attliire d'honiieiir, qu'il faut arrang-er en regie. Ayez la 
 bonte, citoyen Riissc/' addressing himself to Perninoff, " de 
 preter votre epee a Eupator^ atin que tons les deux se battent 
 selon les loix d'honneur et de geiitilsliommes." Unfortu- 
 nately, Meheined, in exposing his hand to attack his an- 
 tao-onist, had^ by an unlucky discovery, given the latter fresh 
 and more just cause of offence : Eupator, on espying his 
 own ring, on Mehemed's finger, exclaimed, with a vio- 
 lence scarcely to be expected from a newly revived man, 
 " Why, the assassin has robbed me of my ring* too ! Per- 
 haps, that too, was one of thy wife's wedding gifts, of which, 
 no doubt, thou canst produce the title-deeds. To Rome I 
 will have the highwayman conducted, to have his brains 
 beat out on the Gemonian steps." 
 
 I thought it high time now to put a stop to the endless 
 quid proquo's, which had hitherto arisen from poor Eupator's 
 ignorance of his uncommon, nay, unparalleled, situation. 
 As a preliminary step, I addressed Mehemed-Aga in Ita- 
 lian, to entreat his forbearance ; and after having received 
 from him an assurance, under the solemn pledge of the grand 
 signer's beard, that he would not only calm his present an- 
 irer, but on no account recur to future acts of violence, I 
 endeavoured gradually, and with all the caution Eupator's 
 delicate situation recpiired, to acquaint and familiarize him 
 with the real posture of his affairs. It was no easy task to 
 persuade him, that, since (what he called) his yesterday's 
 slumber, a space of- time exceeding- seventeen centuries 
 had intervened ; that of the generation he had quitted, not 
 a vestige was left ; that of the nations, governments, and 
 religious faiths which then existed, scarcely a trace remained ; 
 nay, that, but for the works of a few authors who wrote 
 about his time, accidentally preserved ; and some relics of 
 the perfect plastic arts and of coins, as well as of the beau- 
 tiful and solid architecture of his age, which confirmed the 
 
 fidelity 
 
287 
 
 fidelity of those authors^ the very existence of that age, and 
 of the nations that flourished in it^ would be questionable. 
 
 Wrapt in the deep silence of extreme astonishment and 
 grief, Eupator listened attentively to my wondrous tale. At 
 last^ as if summoning- up his faculties from a temporary 
 trance^ he interrupted me as follows ; 
 
 Eup. Although, my friend, thy words seem to bear the 
 stamp and accent of truths yet, such is my amazement at a 
 narrative which resembles the fabulous traditions of our early- 
 history, and the genealogy of some of our divinities, that 
 thou wilt pardon a justifiable incredulity, if, previously to 
 my giving credit to thy assertions^ I ask some proof of their 
 truth. 
 
 Self. Your request is reasonable, and can easily be 
 complied with : The dress^ the manners, and the different 
 languages of myself and my companions here might alone 
 impress you with a suspicion, that we do not belong to the 
 generation of which you alone remain. But if those are in- 
 capable of shaking your doubts, follow me ! and you shall 
 behold, not only the environs of your town in a dress in 
 which you will at once recognize the truth of the changes 1 
 have related, but even the sea itself covered with vessels of 
 a construction unknown to you. Come along, and 1 will 
 shew you, riding at anchor in the bay, a British ship of war, 
 capable of stowing in her hold a whole fleet of your trireme 
 cockleshells. 
 
 Eupator actually rose from his seat, when PerninofF re- 
 presented, in the strongest manner, the impropriety of his 
 exposing himself to the action of a burning sun, after the 
 cool birth which he had enjoyed for 1,700 years in the ice- 
 cellar; an advice which the Roman received with thanks, 
 
 and 
 
288 
 
 and which induced us to postpone his egress from the vault 
 till the cool of the evening. 
 
 " Indeed, my friends/* continued Eupator, '' if your tale 
 be true, and I fear there is but little doubt of its being so, 1 
 see no reason why I should wish at all to revisit a country, 
 to which — however my own — time has rendered me a stran- 
 ger; or to mix with a race to which I do not belong. A 
 stranger to their language, their manners, and their laws, 
 w ithout one friend, without property ; the few years which 
 the gods may grant me, would be lost in beginning the 
 world afresh, in forgetting past ideas and recollections, to 
 make room for new experience. Under such circumstances, 
 the remainder of my life would prove a series of troubles 
 and vexations, which, as it is in my power to avoid them, 
 I have no mind to undergo. I beseech you, therefore, carry 
 me back to my sarcophagus : let the chilling vapours of my 
 tomb once more consign me to a painless death ; and, after 
 this last service of your kindness, obstruct the access fi'om 
 tte eyes and knowledge of prying posterity. 
 
 This was a new whim of Squire Eupator's, to combat 
 which PerninofF and I summoned up all the eloquence and 
 arguments we could master. In these endeavours we were 
 seconded by a repetition of the liberal pecuniary offers of 
 Mr. Denzner, and the more liberal promises of the first 
 consul's generous protection held out by the Gascon. Our 
 combined efforts were more successful than I at first ex- 
 pected : Eupator began to wave in his resolve, and soon, 
 whether from curiosity, or that he never had been very se- 
 rious in his determination, he gave up all idea of the sarco- 
 phagus, and promised to keep alive for our sake. 
 
 As we had a good deal of time before us, I thought this 
 the right moment to request of our friend an explanation of 
 
 the 
 
i89 
 
 the mysterious situation in the sarcophagTis, in which we 
 made his first acquaintance, and which had been the cause 
 of his preservation. 
 
 Eup. In complying with thy request, I shall, perhaps, 
 appear in your eyes guilty of a weakness little consonant 
 with the name of a philosopher, which in my time I was 
 proud to bear. But, at all events, I will not forfeit my 
 claim to it by telling you an untruth. My father, a freed- 
 man of the Emperor Cajus (Caligula), being sent by his 
 master on an extraordinary mission to expedite the shipping 
 of grain from Alexandria, at a time when Italy, from a de- 
 fective harvest, laboured under a severe famine, married 
 there a woman of Canopus, the niece of Thamuphis, a priest 
 in the temple of Serapis, at the latter place. Soon after 
 the return of my parents from Egypt, I was born, and in due 
 time instructed in every branch of useful and liberal know- 
 ledge. While at Athens, where I had been sent to finish my 
 education, I received the tidings of my father's death, ac- 
 companied with a request from my mother to return to Italy 
 as soon as the course of my studies would permit, and her 
 leave to visit our Egyptian friends in my way home. A 
 thirst after knowledge made me embrace my mother's oflfer 
 with joy. I left Athens and sailed for Canopus, where I w^as 
 received with open arms by all my maternal relations, and 
 especially by Hermonthis, the son of her uncle, who had suc- 
 ceeded his father in the priesthood of Serapis. The wisdom 
 of that Egyptian, pov/erfnlly seconded by his kindness to 
 me, created in my youthfiil breast a wish to be initiated in 
 the mysteries of the great God. My docility and my con- 
 duct shortened the time of probation. Hermonthis' in- 
 struction gradually revealed to my mind eternal and sacred 
 truths, many of which a solemn oath forbids the adept from 
 divulging to the sensual and prejudiced profane. I re- 
 nounced, joyfully, the cold and impious errors of the Epi- 
 
 p p cureaa 
 
290 
 
 ciirean school^ but lately acquired at the expencc of so much 
 study and lost time. Among other revelations, the doctrine 
 of immortality impressed itself deeply on my conviction ; the 
 soothing- prospect of a future recompence for the adversities 
 we experience, and of a lasting' reward to piety and virtue, 
 appeared to me a natural consequence of the justice and 
 goodness of the Supreme Being. I witnessed with admira- 
 tion the extreme care which, under this persuasion, the en- 
 lightened inhabitants of Egypt bestow on the preservation 
 of their deceased relations ; and I shall not easily forget the 
 awful sensations I felt when Hermonthis, for the first time, 
 conducted me into the sepulchral vaults of our family, where 
 I beheld my maternal ancestors, for twenty generations 
 back, ranged in order of time, their virtues and errors equi- 
 tably recorded on the shells, by the hands of holy and 
 impartial judges, in sacred characters, legible but to the 
 elect. What an incentive to righteousness, what a deter- 
 ment from vice ! Nor w ill the words of my cousin at our 
 parting ever be obliterated from my remembrance : '' Go in 
 peace!" said he, " you will find many brethren in Italy; 
 let your instruction and example increase their number, as 
 the welcome rains of ^Ethiopia increase the waters of the 
 beneficient Nile, and with it the happiness of this blessed 
 land. Remember the fundamental law of the great, the 
 good Osiris, ' Love all inankind like members of one great 
 familij eynanating from the Supreme Being ! ' Does the great 
 God withhold the gift of reason, the blessing of health, of 
 rain, or sun-shine from any? and why will the short-sighted 
 mortal refuse his love to any of his race? Who dares pre- 
 sume so much on the superiority of his intellects as to pro- 
 
 cl^iiiT^" But, my friends, I am wandering from my 
 
 purpose ; pardon the sweetness of past recollections. I left 
 off at my separation from Hermonthis. On my arrival in 
 Italy, I endeavoured, to the best of my power, to put his 
 precepts into execution. The little temple which, if it have 
 
 escaped 
 
291 
 
 escaped the fury of the overwhehning mountain, you Avill 
 have perceived above our forum, I erected at my own cx- 
 pence to Isis, the sister and consort of Osiris, great and good. 
 The terror and disgust which the tenets of my cousin had 
 created in my mind at the idea of animal corruption, toge- 
 ther with other secret motives, which my oath forbids di- 
 vulging, suggested to my thoughts the possibihty of my pre- 
 servation after death, by means of extreme cold, without 
 the process of embalming, an art totally and lamentably 
 neglected in this country. With this view I built the vault 
 and sarcophagus from which you have extricated me, and 
 filled it with ice purposely sent for from Mount ./Etna. There 
 I had ordered my corpse to be deposited after my decease, 
 and a plain inscription, which perhaps you may have noticed 
 over the low entrance, was simply to record my name and my 
 age. Alas ! I little thought, when the statuary fixed the mar- 
 ble in my presence, that six weeks afterwards that chamber 
 would serve to bury me alive: butsoitwas. OntheOthofthe 
 kalends of September *, a company of Greek players, who had 
 recently arrived from Syracuse, w ere to perform, for the first 
 time, Sophocles' tragedy o^CEdipus. A fit of the gout con- 
 fined me to my room ; Flotilla, my dear wife, went to the 
 house of Accia Hispulla to meet some female friends to go 
 to the play together. She had not been gone a cpiarter of 
 an hour, when, as I lay reading on my couch, I heard a hol- 
 low ruml>ling, which I took for a peal of thunder, although 
 in sound it was infinitely more violent, and although the se- 
 renity of the sky had not previously been obscured by one 
 single cloud. On limping to the window, I beheld a dense 
 column, of smoke as it appeared, rise perpendicularly from 
 Mount Vesuvius, its top expanding on all sides of the co- 
 lunm like the head of a mushroom, or a pine-tree. I had no 
 
 ip ill.l I MJ ■!» 11 I ^ IW > !■ I.W ■■■ ■■IIBIll ■■ ■ ■ ■ ■ I. ■■! I ■ !■■ J !■ I !■ ■ .1 | I I i rj I. . .^ 
 
 • 23d August. 
 
 P P 3 time 
 
292 
 
 time to examine this singular phenomenon^ for ahiiost im- 
 mediately after its appearance another tremendous peal or 
 crash was heard; my house, however solidly built, trembled 
 in its foundations : a second eruption issued from the moun- 
 tain_, which seemed to vomit forth, as it were, a whole pro- 
 vince of unknown matter. In an instant all was darkness ; 
 and my house, still tottering', became buried under a mass 
 of sand or earth, the excessive heat of which, tog^ether with 
 the confined air in the rooms, rendered respiration difficult, 
 and a longer stay in it impossible. But, alas! on groping 
 in the dark to effect my escape, I found eveiy window, 
 door, and outlet totally blocked up by hot sand and ashes, 
 I called in vain for help : my people and slaves either were 
 in the fields gathering the vintage, or had gone to the play ; 
 besides, my voice was scarcely audible from faintness and 
 want of air. In this agonizing .situation,! thought of my 
 ice-cellar and of this very vault, to which a subterraneous 
 passage had been contrived from the house. To that hidden 
 retreat I resolved, if possible, to shape my course, and there 
 either to end my days, or to wait until the sad catastrophe 
 was gone by. With the utmost difficulty, and by eftbrt& 
 almost beyond my invalid strength, 1 groped through dark- 
 ness and excessive heat. You all know part of the way ; I 
 shall only add, therefore, that the refreshing coolness of the 
 atmosphere in that subterraneous vault was a delightful con- 
 trast in my parched condition. Totally exhausted, I lay 
 down in the sarcophagus, the only resting place in that 
 chamber. — And here, friends, my tale closes : for all I can 
 further remember are, the terrible and continual roarings 
 of the mountain, the incessant concussions of the ground 
 beneath me, and an unconquerable drowsiness which soon 
 after assailed me. I suppose I must have fallen asleep ; but 
 from that moment up to the time I saw you here around me, 
 I have no recollection whatever. The interval may, as you 
 inform me, have been a sleep for centuries : to me it appears 
 
 no longer than one night's rest. 
 
 Such 
 
293 
 
 SUCH was Eiipator's interesting naiTatrve, which seemed 
 to have fatigued him in some degree ; we, therefore, forbore 
 demanding any further iUustration on several points of his 
 recital, thanking him kindly for the trouble he had given 
 himself to satisfy our curiosity. Monsieur le Marquis de Val- 
 lignac, who had begun to take a drawing of our new friend, 
 exclaimed, " C'est dormir comme un sabot :" and Mr.Denz- 
 ner, pulling out his repeater, informed us of the time of 
 the day, observing-^ that piK)babIy in another hour's time 
 the heat would have sufficiently abated to enable us to 
 introduce our new friend to the upper regions w ith safety. 
 Eopator instantly fixed his eye with surprize on Mr. Denzner's 
 watch, asked what it was, and, on being informed that it 
 contained a complicated mechanism by which we were able 
 to ascertain tlie hour of the day, he begged to be shewn the 
 instrument. The Roman surveyed the outside, and espe-« 
 cially the dial-plate, w ith the utmost attention ; but his asto- 
 nisment rose to the highest pitch when Mr. Denzner made 
 it strike the hour, and still more when he opened the case 
 and e]^hibited its interior works. 
 
 ^^ Wonderful, wonderful!" exclaimed Eupator, '^'^ what 
 a useful, what a sublime invention! what ingenuity, what 
 labour and patience its construction require ! Its use on 
 travels at night, in war, indeed in every transaction of life, 
 all of which are more or less regulated by time, must be emi- 
 nently great. How superior to our sun-dials, to our 
 hour-glasses and clumsy clepsydras*! No doubt some 
 keen Greek or other was the inventor of this excellent, 
 work." 
 
 Denz. I ask your pardon, Eupator, one of my countiy- 
 
 men. 
 
 * Water-clocks, 
 
294 
 
 Hien, a German, a citizen of Nurnberg, invented the first of 
 these instruments. 
 
 Eup. What dost thou say ? a German, one of those 
 barbarians, who, in my time, lived like savage animals in 
 forests and bogs, clad in the skins of wild beasts, feeding 
 upon acorns and horse-flesh ? Impossible ! thou art joking. 
 The figures on the dial, which are surely in Roman cha- 
 racters, contradict thy assertion. The Germans were even 
 ignorant of the use of letters. 
 
 Denz. I appeal to my companions to attest my veracity. 
 ( — JVe nodded assent. J 
 
 Eup. Thou astonishest me, friend. In my time, believe 
 me, the most precious gem of all Rome would have been 
 deemed an inadequate remuneration for a clock like this. 
 As it is, considering the labour required in its construction, 
 I dare say, its price is only within the reach of princes and 
 very wealthy individuals. 
 
 Denz. By no means, Eupator! Although luxury de- 
 mands them at all prices, a watch may be bought for less 
 money than a coat. Few tradesmen are without one. Many 
 of our bovs even wear them. And as to the fi"'ures in Ro- 
 man characters, they are merely employed on account of 
 their being more generally known than any others^ and upon 
 the whole more uniform. For you are very much mistaken, 
 my good Eupator, if you suppose my countrymen of the 
 present day the same as your cotemporary Tacitus has de- 
 scribed them. According to him, we certainly then were 
 ignorant of the use of letters ; but times may be supposed 
 to have changed in the space of 17 centuries. To convince 
 you of the truth of what I advance, look at this book, writ- 
 ten by a countryman of mine, Winckelmann, on the disco- 
 veries 
 
295 
 
 veries made in the excavation of your town, and its neigh- 
 bour^ Herculaneunij Mhich on that account I fortunately 
 happen to have brought along with me. 
 
 Eup. Tlie characters are unlike any I am acquainted 
 with; neither Roman^ Greek, Punic, nor Egyptian; nor 
 do the leaves on which they are written resemble our pa- 
 pyrus or parchment : but the elegance and uniformity of 
 the character proves, that thy nation possesses penmen very 
 superior" to our copyists. 
 
 Denz. The leaves are made of the rags of our cast-off 
 linen ; and the characters are pritited, not made w ith the 
 pen as you suppose. 
 
 Eup. Printed ! I do not comprehend your meaning-. 
 
 Denz. The art of printing consists in arranging movea- 
 ble characters cast in metal, letter for letter, according to 
 the words of an author. The characters, so placed and con- 
 fined page for page within a frame, are then covered with a 
 black liquid resembling ink, and, by a pow erful mechanical 
 apparatus, impressed on the sheets of the paper you see. 
 
 Eup. No doubt the method which thou describest is pro- 
 ductive of greater regularity and uniformity in the appear- 
 ance of the letters ; but what is gained that way cannot be 
 recompensed by the immense labour and time which such 
 a tedious process must needs require, and the consequent 
 high price which a book thus printed, as thou callest it, 
 must be sold at to pay the workman for his trouble. 
 
 Denz. The first labour, it is true, is tedious, but that 
 trouble is amply recompensed by an important advantage. 
 The characters once arranged apd fixed in their proper 
 
 order. 
 
296 
 
 order, may be impressed successively on many thousands 
 of separate sheets,, and thus the copies of one book be multi- 
 plied almost endlessly. In this manner one man may print 
 several hundreds of copies in less time than he would be 
 able to write one: proceeding' from the same prototype, 
 all must necessarily be equally correct, equally uniform, 
 and alike beautiful ; and, what is more, the price of a 
 book, produced by so easy and expeditious a method of mul- 
 tiplying copies, cannot ainoimt to one-tenth part of the 
 money which would be paid for one written by a pen. 
 
 Self. Even the first labour of composing' the types, our 
 friend Eupator will probably imagine less tedious, when I 
 inform him, by way of example, that the most voluminous 
 debates of the British senate, protracted sometimes till late 
 after midnight, are read in print the next morning at break- 
 fast by many thousands of citizens, indeed by any one that 
 can afford to gratify his patriotic curiosity at the expence 
 of a sum not exceeding the value of one person's consump- 
 tion of bread for one day. The works of Virgil, of Horace, 
 or of Julius Caesar, may each be bought in elegant binding 
 for less than the price of a pair of shoes. 
 
 Eup. The invention of clocks and watches excited my 
 astonishment ; but what you just now have been relating 
 respecting the art of printing is so full of the marvellous, 
 that it almost baffles the implicit credit which I fain would 
 grant to your assertions. What, the whole of the w orks of 
 Caesar for a pair of shoes? The deliberations of last night's 
 senate in the hands of many thousand citizens the next 
 morning? Is it possible ? Yet, to own the truth, the pro- 
 cess you have been good enough to describe appears per- 
 fectly adequate to produce the effect you mention, however 
 marvellous. What a field you have opened to me for re- 
 flection ! ]My limited ideas can scarcely compass the im- 
 portant 
 
297 
 
 portant consequences which must have resulted from so 
 divine, yet so simple an invention ; an invention, which 
 must unlock to the poorest of mankind the gates of learning 
 and science, accessible in our age but to the wealthy, 
 many of whom preferred the gratification of sensual appe- 
 tite to the pleasure derived from the pursuit of knowledge. 
 I can easily imagine how, under such favourable circum- 
 stances, learning, philosophy, and the liberal arts must have 
 spread in every direction, must indeed have become univer- 
 sal ; what immense and rapid strides towards perfection the 
 sciences must have made , what libraries must have been 
 collected at so cheap a rate ! Oh ! happy, thrice happy 
 those, on whom the gods have bestowed so valuable a bles- 
 sing ! I say the gods, for the mortal who invented the art 
 of printing must have been inspired by the breath of divine 
 intelligence. His name deserves to be handed down with 
 gratitude to the latest posterity. Monuments of gold, nay, 
 temples, were surely erected to so great a benefactor of 
 mankind ? 
 
 Denz. Neither, to my knowledge, Eupator! But what 
 need has the man of monuments of gold or marble? Every 
 book that is printed is a memorial of the fame of Gut- 
 tenberg. 
 
 Eup. A barbarian, no doubt, from the sound of the 
 name ? 
 
 Denz. A barbarian, if you please; but a German. 
 
 Eup. Again a German? How droll? that the invention 
 of making the most important use of letters should proceed 
 from a people at my time utterly ignorant of them. There 
 is Brochovistus, the captain of the Emperor's German guards, 
 he has been a twelvemonth learning to sign his name only. 
 
 Q Q If 
 
298 
 
 If I live, friend, I shall visit thy country, which like Greece 
 in our time, must have become the emporium of learning; 
 and wisdom. — Once more, I pray, let me casta look on thy 
 specimen of the art of printing. — ( Turning over the leaves,) 
 Excellent, delightful ! — Ha ! what do I see ? a copy, by 
 Hercules ! of a painting- in my friend Titius Aristo's dining- 
 room. Tliis surely is not printed too ; but drawn on pur- 
 pose for the illustration of every copy of the book. 
 
 Denz. I beg' your pardon, Eupator, even the drawing is 
 printed, or engraved, as we call it. You shake your head 
 in token of yourdoubts. Hear me, and then judge. (Here Mr. 
 D. explained the process of engraving, with German minute- 
 ness and perspicuity, notwithstanding the frequent interrup- 
 tions on the part of the French marquis, who conceived him- 
 self entitled to speak of things which he declared to be de son 
 ressort, de son metier). The expressions of surprise and ad- 
 miration of our stranger at this new information equalled 
 his former protestations : '' Every moment," said he, '' con- 
 vinces me of the justness of my first remark. I have to be- 
 come a citizen of a new world, infinitely more perfect and 
 enlightened than that which I left behind. In my time we 
 fondly imagined the genius of my ancestors, the Greeks, had 
 raised the arts to the highest stage of perfectibility. But I 
 am sure, with the facilities of instruction and communication 
 which the invention of engraving must afford, painting-, 
 sculpture, and architecture cannot but have made immense 
 strides towards superior excellence." 
 
 Self. The fact is the reverse, I lament to say : the works 
 of Phidias, of Apollonius, and of other Greek masters, which 
 time has spared us, are still considered as models of perfec- 
 tion beyond the reach of modern art ; the proportions and 
 solidity of ancient architecture, such as we behold them in 
 the Parthenon and in other Grecian temples, in your amphi- 
 theatres. 
 
299 
 
 theatres, triumphal arches, and other ancient structures/ sur- 
 pass every effort of the present time. — You copied nature, 
 we copy copies. The facility and frequency of instructive 
 means will diffuse knowledoe in a wider rang-e, while they 
 are but secondary agents in forming transcendant mental 
 superiority, to which genius elevates itself by its own powers, 
 with little exterior aid. This observation would, in some 
 respects, apply even to science, some branches of which 
 have received but slight comparative augmentation in the 
 hands of the moderns. 
 
 Eup. It is, I suspect, thy modesty, friend, which inclines 
 thee to undervalue the progress of thy age. — More of this 
 however, when my own experience shall have enabled me 
 to draw a comparison. But to return to the invention of en- 
 graving, which gave rise to thy observation : if it be true 
 that no beneficial effects have resulted from it, I can account 
 for it in no other manner than by supposing the discovery to 
 be of too recent a date to have produced any visible conse- 
 Cjuences as yet. 
 
 Self. Truth prevents us even from taking the benefit of 
 your liberal supposition. The invention is attributed to one 
 Bockolt of Mentz, your Moguntiacumt who lived about the 
 middleof the 15th century. 
 
 Eup. What ! another German ? Have these barbarians 
 then monopolized the wit and ingenuity of the universe ? 
 
 Denz. Far from it, Eupator ! The spirit of research 
 and perseverance inherent in the national character of my 
 countrymen may have given them so}jic facilities and advant- 
 ages over their neighbours in bringing forth the discoveries 
 which the accidental turn of our conversation happened to 
 introduce to your notice foremost. But allowing the Germans 
 
 Q Q ^ the 
 
300 
 
 the merit of some highly useful discoveries^ I should be 
 guilty of great injustice not to declare^ that every other na* 
 tion of Europe has^ in a greater or less degi'ee, contributed 
 to the advancement of science, or to the comfort and benefits 
 of the human race. Here is our friend the Briton, for in- 
 stance. His modesty has hitherto been silent on the disco- 
 veries of his enlightened countiymen. He will, therefore 
 allow me to mention the name of Newton, whose genius and 
 deep thought watched, as it were. Nature in her most hid- 
 den operations. To him we owe the knowledge of the at- 
 tractive power inherent in matter, and of the laws of gravi- 
 tation resulting from it; from him we hold the theory of light, 
 of its refraction and reflection, and of its prismatic decom- 
 position. His discoveries in astronomy, various and important 
 as they are, appear more the work of divine intelligence than 
 of the limited sphere of human undei-standing ; and by his 
 enriching the higher fields of mathematics with new theorems 
 and formulas, nay, with entirely new branches of that in- 
 comparable science, he has cleared to his successor a road 
 on which they have since rapidly proceeded from one dis- 
 covery to another, in astronomy as well as in every other 
 department of natural philosophy. But it is not in specula- 
 tive science alone that the British name stands conspicuous 
 among the moderns. Their inventions and improvements 
 in every species of manufactures are immense. The inge- 
 nuity of their machinery has almost superseded manual la- 
 bour ; and to put the former in motion, they have no need 
 of wind, water, or beasts of draught. The marvellous force 
 of vapour alone produces the same effect, since the inven- 
 tion of steam-engines by a Briton of the name of Watt. In 
 medicine too, besides the discoveiy of the circulation of the 
 blood by Harvey, Britain can pride itself on the inoculation 
 of both the small-pox and the cow-pox, by means of which 
 many thousands of human beings are saved from the fatal 
 effects of one of the most dangerous diseases. 
 
 (You 
 
301 
 
 (You may suppose^ dear T. that the introduction of the 
 latter subject excited anew the astonishment of Eupator^ who 
 knew as little of the remedy as of the disorder itself; and that 
 it required not a little pains to explain to him their nature. 
 When he had seized our meaning-, as well as could be ex- 
 pected, he exclaimed, his eyes fixed on Peminoff whose face 
 exhibited unequivocal marks of the effects of the disease :) 
 
 Eup. Dreadful ! horrible ! Believe me, friends, your 
 melancholy description of this scourge of the human race, 
 and the dread of falling its victim myself, would deter me 
 from mixing with a generation thus contaminated, w^ere it 
 not for the harmless remedy which British philanthropy has 
 fortunately devised. The very first thing- I propose to do 
 shall be to get myself inoculated, as you call it. But pray 
 what infernal demon, or what offended deity, can have af- 
 flicted mortals with so destructive a pestilence ? 
 
 Pern. It is perhaps a fortunate circumstance, Eupator, 
 that our iii^norance of its author saves him the curses which 
 otherwise mankind would load him with. The source of the 
 disease is not precisely ascertained, although in all probabi- 
 lity it came to us first from Amenca. 
 
 Eop. One of the furies of Tartarus, no doubt. 
 
 Pern. (^S^TizYm^.j Neither fury, nor woman, good Eupator; 
 but a Continent, ten times as large as the whole extent of the 
 Roman empire ; utterly unknown to your cotemporaries, al- 
 tho' but four weeks sail westward from the pillars of Hercules. 
 
 Eup. (Shaking his head.) Thou art amusing me with a 
 dream of Plato's, by placing your continent where the solar 
 disk immerses itself in the waters of the ocean, and beyond 
 which eternal night and cold prevail. — Yet stop ! — (in deep 
 
 medi- 
 
302 
 
 meditation, ivith his hand on his forehead) — I now recollect 
 a hieroglyphical inscription on the small porphyry obelisk 
 which stands without the Alexandrian gate at Canopus, and 
 the erection of which tradition ascribes to Repoth, the great 
 astronomer of Memphis. There, if 1 remember right, the 
 existence of a country west of the Fortunate Isles is mysti- 
 cally alluded to, as abounding in gold, silver, and precious 
 stones. Should youi' America perhaps be the same ? 
 
 Pern. The very same ! At its first discovery its copper- 
 coloured inhabitants were found bedecked with gold, which 
 they greedily exchanged for our iron, a metal unknown to 
 them. Even now, one year's produce of the inexhaustible 
 mines of America exceeds the money at your time in circula- 
 tion over the whole Roman empire. Now, the discovery of 
 that immense country, which changed the whole face and re- 
 lations of the ancient world, and which, for ought we know, 
 may at one time lead to the subjection of the latter, belongs 
 neither to the Germans nor to Britons. It wasa Ligurian mari- 
 ner, Christopher Columbus, who, upwards of three hundred 
 years ago, succeeded in realizing Plato's dream, and your 
 friend Repoth's mystic allusion ; and his merit is the greater, 
 since the discovery was not, as most others have been, an ef- 
 fect of chance, but the result of mature deliberation, founded 
 on careful observation and scientific deduction, which con- 
 vinced the bold Ligurian of the certainty of his success. 
 
 Eup. Bold indeed, to venture upon so long a voyage on 
 that treacherous element, without any guide, but his own 
 couage and the stars of heaven ! 
 
 Pern. And the mariner's compass, you should have ad- 
 ded ; an instrument likewise of modern invention, or use at 
 least ; which, together with the timekeeper invented by 
 Harrison, the Briton's countryman, render a ship's course to 
 
 the 
 
303 
 
 the East Indies more safe and certain, than your voyage 
 from Athens to the Heracleotic mouth of the Nile. 
 
 (Here was again abundance of work cut out for us. The 
 inexplicable northerly tendency of the magnetic needle, the 
 use of the timekeeper in ascertaining the longitude, the dis- 
 covery of the maritime route to the East Indies by doubling 
 the Cape of Good Hope, the rich and immense empire acquired 
 in the Eastern hemisphere by an association of British mer- 
 chants — our convict colony in the most distant recess of the 
 globe, our discoveries in the South Seas, and other topics 
 imperceptibly associating themselves with the discourse, form- 
 ed so many vast and inexhaustible subjects of information to 
 the eager mind of our inquisitive friend. — He seemed totally- 
 lost in silent wonder. The vast importations of gold and 
 silver from America, and of the riches of the East, almost 
 set the powers of his conception at defiance.) 
 
 *^' Your's then," exclaimed Eupator, *^' is truly the g-oWen 
 age of which our poets have dreamt such pleasing fictions. 
 Happy Europeans, to whom the very name of poverty is un- 
 known ! — no domestic embarrassments, no debts, no taxes, 
 no wars perhaps, unless, from their excess and abundance, 
 the precious metals have lost the value in which we held 
 them". 
 
 Self. My good Eupator ! as I shall have to contradict 
 every one of your anticipations, it may be necessary to pre- 
 face my statement w ith the solemn assurance of the truth of 
 what must appear incredible to a person in your situation. 
 In the first place, you have to learn, what will appear to 
 you a paradox, that gold and silver, although poured with 
 accumulating profusion into the old continent for these three 
 centuries, have by degrees become scarcer with us ; and their 
 value consequently greatly enhanced. Want, poverty, debts, 
 
 taxes. 
 
304 
 
 taxes, are far from being- banished from the face of the earth ; 
 on the contrary, the present generation, throug'hout Europe, 
 suffers more severely under their pressure. And how can it 
 be otherwise, when on the one hand hixury deprives us Eu- 
 i\ofpeans of one half of our means of existence, while on the 
 other every morsel we eat, every va^g we put on our backs, 
 nay, even the light of heaven we enjoy, is dispensed to us 
 with a heavy per centage, called "duty," which our govern- 
 ments are under tlie necessity of levying upon their subjects, 
 to defray the ^I'xpenses of almost continual wais caused by 
 the ambition and the jealousies of the many independent 
 States into which your former Roman Empire has become 
 subdivided. 
 
 Eup. Impossible ! unless ye are all ruled by the iron 
 sceptres of insatiable tyrants whose lust after power and 
 avidity of gain have no bounds. 
 
 Self. Always wrong in your conclusions ! I repeat to 
 you, friend Eupator, that every s}llable I have uttered is 
 stiictly true ; and by way of staggering your logic a little 
 more, I, for one, have to add, that as far as regards Great 
 Britain, the monarch who has ruled over her for these forty 
 years, in goodness of heart, mildness, justice, and piety, may 
 boldly stand a comparison with your cotemporary Titus, and 
 his successors, Nerva, Marcus Aurelius, and Antoninus Pius. 
 Nay, such is the excellence of our constitution, that were 
 our king ever so inclined to oppress his subjects, his design 
 w ould be frustrated by our senate, the elective representa- 
 tives of the nation, in whom alone the power of taxing the 
 people is vested. 
 
 Pern, (to me). It is really cruel to torture the resusci- 
 tated and as it were incipient faculties of our friend in this 
 manner. AVhy not be candid, and tell him at once how the 
 
 case 
 
S05 
 
 tfise stands ? Look yc, my friend, most of the goveraments 
 of the present day are what in a private person you would 
 call insolvent, yet extremely flourishing' and powerful. — 
 Now is not that curious? There is our frieiul the En- 
 glishman's country, rich and great beyond any in Europe, 
 yet obliged to borrow every year a matter of two thousand 
 millions of sesterces and more, to be able to defray tlie 
 annual expenditure of the state. These yearly loans, as 
 you may easily suppose, have accumulated to a sum, the 
 vastness of w liicli is as difficult to be seized by human con- 
 ception, as the distances of heavenly bodies : to give you 
 some idea, it woidd perhaps not be too much to assert^ 
 that the gold required to discharge the national debt of 
 Great Britain, would equal, in solid matter, all the stones 
 employed in the erection of the Julian aqueduct. The 
 yearly interest of such an immense sum alone, without other 
 great public expenses, requires contributions on the part 
 of the nation, far exceeding the whole revenue of the 
 Roman Empire. 
 
 Eup. Granted, as far as the interest goes; but liow^ is 
 it possible ever to discharge the capital? 
 
 Pern. Oh! as to that, they do not trouble their heads 
 about it. It is for their children in future generations to 
 settle this matter as well as thev can. Besides, to tell you 
 the truth, no])ody dreams of the principal being ever 
 repaid. 
 
 Eup. Then I wonder mainly, the government can (ind 
 any body dispos'd to lend money on such prospects. 
 
 Pern. All, the creditor looks to, is the interest of his 
 capital; so that this is paid punctually, his sole object is 
 answered. All governments, it is true, are not a'ole to 
 
 11 R raise 
 
306 
 
 raise money on such easy terms ; but for their embarrass- 
 ments the perfection of the divine science of finance has 
 likewise devised a ready remedy. 
 
 Eup. And what can that be? 
 
 Pern. Paper-money. 
 
 Eup. Thou dost not mean money made of paper? 
 
 Pern. Exactly so! ( Taking out his pocket-book J . Look 
 here^ friend Eupator^ this scrap is the symbol of about 
 2000 sesterces^ which I received last year for one month's 
 pay^ at Odessa on the Euxine Sea. It is true^ here in 
 Naples it won't purchase as much as a pinch of snuff; 
 but when I get back to Russia 1 shall have no difficul- 
 ty in buying- with it, a fine horse, or three or four cows, 
 wearing apparel, nay, even gold or silver plate, just as 
 well as with ready money. — Now don't you think this 
 is a most excellent invention, superior to all the gold 
 mines of the ancient and new world ? With it a govern- 
 ment can never be poor : in fact, it may be as rich as 
 it pleases ; for with the same facility as this scrap was 
 printed to be worth 2000 sesterces, it might have been 
 dubbed into the value of two millions. With these scraps 
 of paper we build bridges, harbours, and ships, or carry 
 on the most expensive ware, 
 
 Eup. Excellent ! 1 think it beats all the discoveries of 
 the moderns you have made me acquainted with. It is 
 more than human, it is a truly divine suggestion; it makes 
 me ashamed of the ignorance and stupidity of my own age, 
 which considered rags as an ignominious mark of poverty, 
 not suspecting that they constituted the germ of public 
 riches. I shall, nevertheless, make bold by and bye to 
 
 ask 
 
307 
 
 ask one or two questions^ to remove some doubts which 
 my ignorance has suggested on this important subject; but 
 before I forget, I would fain ask the meaning of an ex- 
 pression thou has just made use of, which is quite unin- 
 telligible to me. — A pinch of. . . . what was the name thou 
 didst give it ? 
 
 Pern. SnufF, you mean, I dare say ! Another discovery 
 of the moderns ; an herb brought fi'om America, which 
 being dried and crushed to a fine powder, and inhaled by 
 the nose, removes any temporary obstruction in the nasal 
 economy, and by acting upon the pituitary membrane, 
 excites a pleasing irritation, clears the sight, stimulates our 
 thinking faculties from languor to fresh vigour, and enli- 
 vens our imagination. Something like your hellebore, but 
 more innocent and agreeable. 
 
 Eup. The very thing, it seems, I stand in need of at 
 this moment. I want something to clear my head and ele- 
 vate my spirits after the long state of lethargy they were 
 in ; and if it act on the eyesight, so much the better, for 
 mine has been but indifferent since my stay in Egypt, and 
 from what cause I know not, appears now so weak, that I 
 am unable to distinguish objects at ten paces distance. 
 One of thy friends could perhaps accommodate me with a 
 small dose of this incomparable herb. 
 
 MoNs. LE Marquis de Vallignac. En voila du frais, 
 Citoyen Eupator, du vrai rape de Strasbourg ; tel que s'eu 
 sert le premier consul ; et, qui plus est, je vous I'offre dans 
 une tabatiere que je tiens de sa reconnoissance pour le 
 tableau que j'ai fait de lui, et laquelle je ne donnerois 
 pas pour tout I'or du monde, vii qu'il s'en est servi pen- 
 dant toute sa campagne en Egypte. Regardez un peu 
 cette bosse. Eh bien, elle vient d'une balle qui a man- 
 
 R R 2 que 
 
308 
 
 que de tiicr Ic plus grand homme de ce siccle ; c'est done 
 ma tabaticrc qui ii, pom' ainsi dire, sauve la France en- 
 ticre. Bonaparte m'en a raconte lui-meme Vhistoire de 
 ce fait important. Lors. de la battaille de Chebreisse con- 
 tre les Mameloucs_, me dit ii un soir. ... 
 
 (Mere the marquis was unfortunately and suddenly inter- 
 rupted in the very outset of his story. Eupator, who had 
 helped himself to a pretty large dose of the narcotic pow- 
 der, began to feel its ei^ects in so much greater a degree as 
 he was absolutely a stranger to it, and as his nerves were 
 still in a weak condition. He was seized with so violent a 
 a fit of sneezing, that PerninofF and I became seriously 
 alarmed for his life, vvhile the marquis exclaimed exulting- 
 ly, ^'Ce n'est point du tabac ordinaire je aous en reponds ;'* 
 and when Perninofl" bade him hold his tongue, he shrugged 
 up his shoulders, stepping back one pace, " Eh quoi done ? 
 Est-ce ma faute, s'il en a pris une poignee ? By degrees, 
 however, the sternutatory paroxysms became less violent 
 and frequent, and in two or three minutes more, oin* friend^ 
 to our unspeakable joy, recovered his lost speech.) 
 
 Eup. A pleasing irritation, you call this ? a medicine to 
 clear the head ? — jMine, I believe, it has prettv m ell cleared 
 of all its contents, the brains not excepted. Treacherous 
 Gaul, may the gods send thee perdition ! If thy catgut nerves 
 are callous to its violence, keep it to thyself, but don't im- 
 pose on others thy American poison, which instead of invi- 
 gorating my eyesight, has pretty nearly blinded me. I 
 *>carcely see where 1 am ; 1 shall never recover this shock. 
 
 Pern. I have to ask your pardon, my friend, for having 
 innocently been the cause of all this, by my ill-timed eulo- 
 gium on the virtues of snuff, not suspecting that you would 
 make so excessive a trial. However the misfortune is not so 
 
 alarming 
 
309 
 
 alarming as you fancy. You seem lo be pretty well reco- 
 vered IVom its effects. 
 
 Eup. Recovered ? 1 tell thee I am all but blind. I shall 
 never regain my sight, 
 
 (The marquis^ whether by way of a joke^ or by an im- 
 pulse of frivolity, requested Mr. Denzner to lend Eupator 
 his spectacles ; which were forthwith handed to our irrita- 
 ted friend, with directions how to use them.) 
 
 Eup. Hah ! magic ! incantation ! This talisman seems 
 to attract you towards me. I never enjoyed so clear a view 
 of surrounding objects since my adnlt years. What is it 
 you have given me ? 
 
 Self. Nothing supernatural, good Eupator. Two round 
 glasses, as you see, which, from being higher in the middle 
 than at the edge, acquire the power of magnifying every 
 thing seen through them. Hence they are called spectacles. 
 
 Eup, Spectacles indeed, for they afford a sublime spec- 
 tacle to my weakened eyes ! Old Vespasian would have 
 given a province for this admirable instrument. 
 
 Self. They are worn hj many old persons, and in my 
 country even by young ones v,hose sight is impaired. When 
 we shall become better acquainted, it will be easy to demon- 
 strate to an intelligent and inquisitive mind like your's, the 
 principle upon which their eflect is produced. We shall then 
 be able to shew you other optical instruments of superior use 
 and construction, called telescopes, by means of which, ob- 
 jects at some miles distance will appear as if they were with- 
 in your touch. From your window at Naples you will be 
 able to count the goats browsing on the rocks at Capri. 
 
 Eup. 
 
310 
 
 Eup. Gently, Gently, my good friend ! I take it unkind 
 of thee to play off thy jokes upon an old stranger, who has 
 hitherto listened with attention to thy instructive information. 
 Telescopes may assist the sight in a reasonable degree, but 
 to see the goats walking at Capreae savours a little of the 
 marvellous. 
 
 Self. It may so to you ; but I assure you I have stated 
 nothing but what is true. Nay I will go further, you shall 
 count the mountains in the moon. 
 
 Eup. (Laughing immoderately/. J The mountains in the 
 moon ! The mountains in the moon ! Excellent ! charm- 
 ing ! The vallies too of course, and the rivers, lakes, cities, 
 houses, and inhabitants. Look ye, Briton ! to the Gaul 
 there I would have forgiven such a lie ; but from the little 
 we know of thy nation's character, I could not have supposed 
 thee capable of such an imposition. — The mountains in the 
 moon ! That's a good one ! 
 
 Pern. When you have done laughing, facetious Eupator, 
 I w ould beg leave to ask, whether it be the philosophy of 
 Epicuiiis you imbibed at Athens, or the instruction of your 
 Canopian cousin Hermonthis, that taught you to reject, as 
 absurd^ every thing that was above j/owr comprehension ? 
 
 Eup. Neither, thou second Anacharsis ; but common 
 sense tells us to entertain a doubt of things which appear be- 
 yond the range of our own experience, or which from analo- 
 gical inference we cannot even think probable 
 
 Pern. Until you have ascertained their truth by personal 
 observation, or by the concurrent testimony of credible wit- 
 nesses, you ought to have added. But you expressed some- 
 thing more than a doubt — a self-conceited^ ironical merri- 
 ment 
 
311 
 
 tnent at my friend's simple statement of facts. He has by 
 no means exaggerated the matter. Our optical instrument3 
 indicate as surely the elevations and their shadows in the 
 moon, and the spots in the solar disk, as they exhibit with 
 precision the stomach and intestines of a mite, which the bare 
 eye is scarcely capable of discovering in a piece of cheese. 
 They have enabled our philosophers to enrich the divine 
 science of astronomy with numberless discoveries, of which 
 your age, however enlightened, never dreamt, and which_> 
 of course, would appear to you equally problematical at 
 present. You had better, therefore, suspend your doubts 
 and sarcasms until we prove to you, that they were as pre- 
 cipitate as illiberal. 
 
 Eup. Hermonthis! Hermonthis! thy mummy woldd turn 
 in its hieroglyphicked shell, wert thou to know, that thy pupil 
 has to be taught ethics by a Scythian or Sarmatian savage! 
 But a truce to all warmth. I have deserved thy rebuke, 
 and therefore take it without offence, at least till I shall by 
 my own eyes be taught what I am to think of your hyper- 
 bolical promises. If you make them good, then indeed will 
 I willingly resign the palm of superiority to the philosophers 
 of your age. 
 
 The Marquis. Citoyen Eupator, you have in the course 
 of the last discussion made use of some expressions against 
 myself and the character of my nation (the greatest in the 
 universe), for which my honour, as a Frenchman and a sol- 
 dier, would require the satisfaction of a gentleman from any 
 but a person in your situation : but considering that, and the 
 provocation which I innocently gave you a little while be- 
 fore, by that unfortunate pinch of snuffy I shall stifle every 
 personal resentment, and only say a word or two in defence 
 of my country, of which you seem to entertain so contempt- 
 ible a notion. And no wonder, when this hour and more 
 
 these 
 
512 
 
 these gentlemen have been entertaining you with all sorts 
 of modern inventions, ascribed by report to their nations,, 
 the English and Germans, or to any other but the French, 
 of whom their selfishness and envy have induced them to 
 maintain a studied silence, as if the French, who in wit and 
 ingenuity excel every other nation on the globe, had done 
 nothing in any branch of science which deserved to be 
 commemorated. Ah, citoyen Eupator! can a man of your 
 understanding suppose such a thing for a moment? The 
 French have been indefatigable in their eftbrts to enrich the 
 sciences, and to increase the comforts of mankind. I am ill 
 qualified to stand up their advocate ; nevertheless I will do 
 my best to defeat the insidious views of these gentlemen. — 
 Pray, citizens, who is the inventor of choreography, or the 
 art of exhibiting in geometrical diagrams the figures of 
 dances, such as cotillons and country dances ? Who else, 
 but tlie celebrated Arbeau, my countryman ? — And you, ci- 
 toyen Denzner, who have palavered so much about your 
 German discoveries, do you know the nation to whom you 
 owe the comfort of hiding your bald pate by a false head of 
 hair, which I dare say our Eupator to this moment took for 
 a natural one? It is the French who have the strongest 
 claim to the disputed title of the invention of wigs, of which, 
 if I recollect right, the first were introduced at Paris as early 
 as 1620. 
 
 Eup. Thou art right! I certainly took the German's 
 hair to be his own ; but I must tell thee, that the invention 
 is by no means new, for our Roman beaux were very well 
 acquainted with the use of false hair; only when they stood 
 in need of any, they knew better than to use grey ones. To 
 be old was not the rage in my time. 
 
 The Marquis. Pauvre innocent, to fancy these grey ! 
 The colour, mon cher Eupator, is artificial; and here we 
 
 have 
 
313 
 
 have another invention of my countrymen^ the h.qir-powder, 
 wliich imparts to the human hair, be it ever so blacky the 
 fine greyish neutral tint- you have observed ; a tint Avhich 
 never fails by its power of contrast to brin;^ to light the least 
 vermilHon in the countenance, which renders the face lively 
 and gay, not to mention the advantage that results from a 
 general use of hair-powder, the equalizing, pour ahisi dire. 
 all ages, and preserving and nourishing the hair. 
 
 Eup. I must confess 
 
 The Marquis. Permettez! allow^ me to proceed — Ah 9a, 
 look at this hat ! Can there be a more proper, a more be- 
 comins: covering' for the head ? li^ht as a feather, strou"' as 
 brass, impenetrable to rain, sun^ or wind. Every one of 
 these citizens, all Europe, wears them. Ehbicn! they are 
 of French origin I assure you ; let them deny it if they can. 
 But enough of this. Of our immense improvements in the 
 culinary science I will forbear to speak from modesty ; our 
 superiority in that respect is universally acknowledged : no 
 German will compare his sour-crout, no Italian his macca- 
 roni, no Russian his caviar, no Englishman his rosse-biffe. 
 with o\iv petits pais a la niaitre cVJiotel, our pieds de veau a 
 la gamargof, our pigeons a la crapaudine, our tourtes a la 
 franchipanne, and a thousand other delicacies of French 
 invention. From the same source proceed the playing- 
 cards, and the several games of Toinbre, piquet, and tpia- 
 drille; games very superior to your dice and dilFerent sorts 
 of bones ; since they employ the understanding wliile they 
 relax the mind from fatigue and ennui. In short I could 
 mention a hundred more proofs of the ingenuity of the 
 French ; but as I hope to enjoy the pleasure of your ac- 
 quaintance for many more days, I shall rest satisfied for the 
 present with the few instances I have had the honour to 
 mention just now, 
 
 s s Eup. 
 
314 
 
 Eup. All these thing's^ my good Gaul^ may be very well, 
 and in some degree useful or agreeable ; but thou wilt allow 
 that they are tritles^ when com .... 
 
 The Marquis. Trifles? Oh, I perceive you want some- 
 thing grand, something of eclat. I am your man on that 
 tack too. What do you say to a voyage through the aerial 
 
 Eup. Such a thing would be nothing uncommon. Dae- 
 dalus, the Cretan, if early tradition is to be credited,, flew 
 through the air with wings of his own invention. 
 
 The Marquis. I know that fable as well as yourself: I 
 have his picture, and that of. Icarus too, now hanging in the 
 National Museum. Mais il ne s'agit pas de cela. There is 
 no question about wings for a little trip, such as from Pom- 
 peji to Herculaneum. I am talking of a voyage of a hun- 
 dred and more miles through the clouds, without any wings, 
 in a boat or basket of wicker-work. 
 
 Eup. The possibility of such a feat appears to me very 
 problematical. 
 
 The Marquis. I thought it would ; but not so to these 
 citizens, who have seen or heard of m.y countrymen, Blan- 
 chard and Garnerin. But I will not keep you in suspense. 
 You must know then, that a Frenchman of the name of 
 Montgolfier was the first who invented what is called an air- 
 balloon. 
 
 (Here ?,lonsieur de Vallignac gave to Eupator, with great 
 self-complacency, a lively and pretty correct description of 
 the aerostatical discoveries and adventures of his country- 
 men ; and, after enlarging on the present and future advan- 
 tages of this important invention, asked him, '' Que pen- 
 set 
 
315 
 
 sez-vous de cela, 7non cJicr ami?" A question to wliicli he 
 did not allow him to say one word in reply ; for the torrent 
 of Valligiiac's eloquence was now in its climax.) 
 
 The Marquis. You are stupiiied, I perceive ; you will 
 be more so by what I am going to say. Would you 
 believe, that if we had happened to extricate you from 
 your icy tomb at Marseilles, at Mentz, or at the most dis- 
 tant frontier of the French empire, instead of Pompeji ; 
 w^ould you believe, T say, that, en ce cas la, the First Con- 
 sul would, in an hour's time, have had the news of such an 
 event in his palace at Paris? 
 
 Eup. The swiftest hemerodromes*, the fleetest Baetican 
 steeds, would be incapable of such extraordinary dispatch ; 
 but I can fancy, that with your balloons a public messen- 
 ger may be conveyed with the velocity you mention. 
 
 The Marquis. No messenger at all, moncherami! 
 Not a soul stirs from his post, and, malgre cela, the news 
 travels with the rapidity of lightning'. Cela paroit drule. 
 I will explain. These gentlemen here, I make no doubt^ 
 will have guessed already that I allude to the invention of 
 citizen Chaptal, the telegraphs. 
 
 (It is needless to repeat the ex-marquis' description of 
 this very modern invention. He omitted nothing to give 
 our friend a correct idea of the principle and management 
 of telegraphic correspondence ; and took very good care 
 to introduce, by way of illustration, all the important vic- 
 tories of the revolutionary arms, every one of which, to 
 use his own expression, '' a few hours after tlie event, was 
 thundered into theears of the metropolitan inhabitants by the 
 roar of a hundred pieces of cannon".) 
 
 * RuniiiDg mes.-eiigerf. 
 
 s s 2 Eup. 
 
316 
 
 EfP. The idea of occasionally conveviim" intcUi'i'ence 
 by means of signals is not new. Thon wilt find instances in 
 Polybins and other, even earlier anthors. Nevertheless, 
 the merit of perfecting- the invention, and of giving it sys- 
 tem and permanency, will not be denied to thy country- 
 men. Its use to all governments, in war as well as peace, 
 must be very great ; and I thank thee, friend, for the clear 
 and concise description of it. There is but one part of thy 
 account which I am under some difficulty of comprehend- 
 ing, I mean that part of the telegraphic machinery by which, 
 as thou expressedst thyself, the intelligence v. as thundered 
 into the ears of the inhabitants by means of a hundred 
 pieces of of 
 
 The Mauqlis. Of cannon, 1 said. But you are mis- 
 taken to suppose them a part of the telegraphic appa- 
 ratus. They are unconnected with it, and only made use 
 of to announce by their loud report the joyful news as 
 quickly as possible. However, I am glad I mentioned the 
 thing, since cannon, fire-arms, and gunpowder are one of 
 the most important inventions of the moderns. Gunpowder 
 is made 
 
 Pern. You had better, Monsieur le Marquis, let Mr. 
 Denzner speak upon this subject, as it is his nation that 
 has blessed the human race with this important discovery. 
 
 Denz. I understand you, perfectly, sir, and I shall be 
 ready to admit that the invention of gunpowder has been 
 the curse of mankind, as soon as you shall have proved that 
 wars have been more destructive .since its adoption, that bat- 
 tles fought at the distance of musket-shot are more bloody 
 than conflicts in which armies rush into manual contact and 
 butcher each other with the .sword and .spear. But how- 
 ever, let us defer the discussion of this question, to another 
 
 time. 
 
317 
 
 time, as It cannot interest our friend^ who seems to be 
 waiting- for explanation from one of us. As you have chal- 
 leng'ed me personally, I will undertake the task. It was 
 by mere accident, friend Eupator, that about 400 yeai-s 
 ago, a German philosopher, of the name of Schwartz, was 
 compounding in a mortar a mixture of sulphur, nitre, and 
 charcoal, which, by mere chance likewise, took fire, ex- 
 ploded with a loud crash, and carried the pestle with great 
 violence up to the ceiling of the laboratory. Here you have, 
 along with the invention, the ingredients and the astonish- 
 ing effects of what is called gunpowder; and you will easily 
 conceive that such a mixture confined and compressed in an 
 iron or metal tube, when set fire to, will, by the violence of 
 its explosion, drive a ball just fitting that tube, in the di- 
 rection of it, to a great distance, and with such power as to 
 penetrate the human body, or even substances much more 
 solid, such as wood, nay, stone walls. These tubes, of all 
 sizes, some carrying little balls not larger than my thumb- 
 nail, others globes as large as my head, constitute at pre- 
 sent almost the sole offensive weapons of modern w arfare. 
 
 Mehem. As big as your head? You would have said 
 as big as a dozen of your heads, if you had been at the cas- 
 tles of the Dardanelles. There we have guns which would 
 hold'the German with all his corporation. Here, Eupator- 
 Aga (drawings a pistol from his girdle), here is one of the 
 smallest of these tubes » but it is quite large enough to take 
 down your man at sixty or eighty paces distance. We shall 
 give you a trial when we get out of this vault. 
 
 Eup. With thy leave 
 
 Mehe.-m. Take care, it is charged with ball. 
 
 Eup. I only wish to look at it. A most curious, and, I 
 
 own, 
 
318 
 
 own, to me incomprehensible piece of mechanism, the effects 
 of which I am anxious to see. Why not make the trial now 
 in this place? Suppose thou directest thy tube against one 
 of my wine-jars in yon corner. Alas ! they once contained 
 the choicest Falernian ! 
 
 Mehem. With all my heart, though the distance be but 
 small. Mindj not to be frightened at the report ! 
 
 The Turk fired, Eupator dropped from his seat, and 
 
 ***** 
 
 I AWOKE FROM A DREAM, wliich lias furnished the subject 
 of this long letter. Mehemed's pistol still vibrated in my 
 ears when I opened my eyes: but in vain did I look for 
 Eupator and the companions of the delightful vision. In 
 the stillness of a heavenly morning I saw nought but a few 
 lag-ging beetles driven, like evil spirits, to their abodes of 
 darkness by the approach of day. Aurora's saffron rays just 
 beamed on the walls of my chamber. The magic glimmer 
 elevated my imagination, still warm and full of the cherished 
 fiction. Half-dressed, I took the pen to seize the force of 
 virgin impressions. Alas ! I soon found the odds were ter- 
 ribly against the goose-quill, in its race with an impatient 
 rapidity of ideas. Mechanically and prosaically did it grope 
 on, skimming; with labour the surface of the dictates of an 
 exuberant ftmcy. Perseverance, however, assisted me in 
 overcoming all obstacles and difficulties. The occasional 
 defects of my memory were readily supplied from the same 
 source whence the dream arose ; and where the tenor of the 
 latter appeared in the garb of extravagance and unconnected 
 crudity, common to the sonmular wanderings of the mind, 
 sober reason was applied, to soften the narrative down to 
 probability, to curtail, add, or amplify as seemed most pro- 
 per to represent a favourite subject to the greatest advan- 
 tage. Your candour, my dear T. will not be displeased 
 
 with 
 
319 
 
 with so sincere an avowal. All you have read is eithef 
 sleeping or waking- fiction^ and all I wish for is^ that it 
 may prove in its perusal as entertaining to you> as it has 
 been in its composition to 
 
 Your's, 
 
 * * * * 
 
 LETTER XVI. 
 
 Naplf-S, , 1802. 
 
 My dear T. 
 
 TWO days ago I was fortunate enough to find your 
 letter of the 16th of February. That the term is appropri- 
 ate you will alloW;, ere long. 
 
 The Pompejan Dream, described in my last, was too 
 heavy a performance to be sent by the post ; I therefore 
 determined to entrust it to an officer I knew, on board 
 
 the frigate, which, in a few days, will sail for Malta, 
 
 whence it will reach you without expence. As I had an 
 invitation to dine on board, I proposed to Don Michele to 
 accompany me ; adding, that he would now have an ex- 
 cellent opportunity of examining the interior of a British 
 ship of war. But the remembrance of the faux pas he 
 made in getting up a ship's sides, on our trip to Capri, 
 was still too fresh to induce a ready compliance with 
 my request. After much argumentation, however, on my 
 part, and an observation, that at that time the sea had been 
 agitated, whereas now the weather was fine and the water 
 perfectly smooth, he consented to be of the party, provid- 
 ed the w Gather were no worse than it was at the moment. 
 
 This 
 
520 
 
 This being fortunately the case the next day, Don Micliele 
 made his appearance at twelve o'clock, precisely in the 
 same costume in which he accompanied me to Pozzuoli, 
 
 On our way to the port we passed the post-office, sur- 
 rounded by an immense crowd of eager spectators, whom 
 Don JMichele proposed to join, in spite of my protestations 
 that we should be too latefordinner. After waiting for him 
 about ten minutes at the corner of the court, he returned tri- 
 umphantly with a letter, which, to my great and most pleas-, 
 ing surprise, proved to be your's. Eager to know its con- 
 tents, I hastily thanked my friend, broke the seal, and 
 began to read on the road, but was soon checked by my 
 companion, who observed, that it was not the custom at 
 Naples to read in the streets, whatever it might be in Lon- 
 don ; and that, if I had a few minutes patience, I might 
 find full leisure to peruse it in the boat, if I thought the 
 letter better company than himself. — "'It is from a most 
 intimate friend, Don jNIichele !" — ''And loill be so on our 
 return this evening, without the loss of a single sentence." 
 
 With a person of Don Michele's disposition there was no 
 arguing. I submitted to his whim, put your letter into my 
 pocket-book, but signified to him that the communications 
 of a distant friend had, in my opinion, always a paramount 
 claim of interest ; and that, when once returned to Eng^- 
 land, a letter from ///;;?, if ever I were favoured with any, 
 would certainly not remain one minute unread, in whatever 
 company I might chance to be. This trifling occurrence 
 explains the whole of Don Michele's character. I had no 
 sooner concluded my obsenation, than the honest Neapo- 
 litan grasped my hand, and said, with a tremulous voice, 
 '' Wliy talk of leaving us, dear Don Luigi ? Are you not 
 getting better every day ? Only slay another month or six 
 weeks : surely you will not go before the court returns from 
 
 Palermo ? 
 
321 
 
 Palermo ? I wish I had never seen you ; your stay with u$ 
 will be like a dream when you are gone." 
 
 I felt so much affected with this proof of my friend's sen- 
 sibility, that I was scarcely able to utter an answer, expres- 
 sive of my warmest thanks for his kindness, and that of his 
 family ; which alone^ I observed, would induce me to pro- 
 lonf]^ my stay to the latest possible period. 
 
 D.M. Perhaps this letter contains an extension of your 
 leave of absense ; do look, I pray. 
 
 Self. What ! in the street ? But no, D. Michele, it is of a 
 very old date ; I have a more recent one from the same friend. 
 
 D. M. Old, no doubt, for it has lain this fortnight^ or 
 more, at the post-office, and might have remained there for 
 ever, had I followed your advice. 
 
 To understand D. Michele's meaning, you ought to 
 know, that the post-office at Naples is so wisely organized 
 that it never delivers any letters, but keeps them till they 
 are called for by the parties. This barbarous arrangement 
 my friend now took upon himself to defend and justify, by 
 the observation, that whoever writes a letter expects an an- 
 swer, the arrival of which he must know how to compute by 
 the distance of the place he has written to. — " What is ea- 
 sier, therefore," said he, '' than to go to the post-office at 
 the proper time, and see whether the answer is arrived." — ^ 
 " So, then," replied I, '' any body, that has a mind, may 
 receive a letter addressed to me on paying its postage?" — 
 '' That has a mind to pay, certainly ! but does it stand to 
 reason, that a strang-er will ii'ive two or three carlins for a 
 scrap of paper that does not concern him? Besides, would you 
 have the post-office employ some hundreds of messengers 
 
 T T to 
 
322 
 
 to nm about tlie city with every body's letters? — Tliiit 
 might do in a small country town^ but in a city like Naples 
 the thing' is out of all question " 
 
 This argument was not carried to its proper close^ be- 
 cause we had just now arrived at the water-side, where one 
 of the frigate's boats, under the superintendance of a mid- 
 shipman, had been waiting for us. This young spark no 
 sooner beheld the gay costume of Don Michele, contrasted 
 with his grave and, just then, surly countenance, than he 
 made free to indulge in a titter, which, however stifled in 
 its birth, in all probability did not escape the keen looks of 
 its object ; for immediately after he had seated himself, and 
 carefully disposed the skirts of his silken frock, D. Michele 
 expressed his surprise at my friend's entrusting the safety 
 of his iTuest and of the boat's crew to the conduct of such a 
 child as this ; not omitting a severe reflection on the barba- 
 rity of English parents in sending their offspring adrift at so 
 tender an age, before they could have received proper in- 
 struction of any kind, and before their religious principles 
 could at all have acquired a fixed bent. 
 
 To an Englishman, dear T. I need not repeat the weigh- 
 ty arguments I opposed to my wrangling boat-mate ; all, it 
 is true, to little purpose : even the name of Lord Nelson, 
 his great idol, was not admitted in favour of my position, 
 since, as my friend had been credihli/ informed, that great 
 admiral, instead of serving in the navy from his youth, had 
 been brought up for the church, and been in orders, before 
 ever he thought of going to sea — a fact he was the more rea- 
 dy to believe, from the perusal of his lordship's official dis- 
 patch, relating to the victory of the Nile, which began with 
 the words, '' Almighty God " There's for you ! 
 
 We had now ncarcd the ship, heard the boatswain's whis- 
 tle 
 
323 
 
 tlcj and saw the red side-ropes descend for our reception. 
 Perceiving the muscles of my friend's face assume the con- 
 traction of fear, I whispered to him, " Now, Don Michele, 
 show to my countrymen the coura«^e of a true Calabrese !" 
 — This exhortation had a miraculous effect ; my friend seiz- 
 ed the ropes with uncommon alacrity, and began his ascent 
 for a few steps. But as he kept the ropes fast at the place 
 where he had first grasped them, while his feet mounted as 
 far as they could, the poor fellow arrived presently in that 
 7ie plus ultra position of a rectangular triangle, in which the 
 ropes formed the hypothenuse, the ship's ladder the perpen- 
 dicular, and the projecting body of Don Michele the base, 
 with an appendix of the whole of his silken coat dangling 
 vertically in the air.* It was in vain for me to beg of him 
 to come down again ; he remained fixed, and in all proba- 
 bility would have given up the idea of getting on board, 
 had not the very midshipman who a few minutes before had 
 been the object of his censure, exclaimed to me, " Tell the 
 Signor to hold the ropes tight ;" and then called up to the 
 men, " Hoist him in, ropes and all." — On which the side- 
 ropes were drawn up with much simultaneous exactness, an 
 operation that enabled Don Michele to ascend another few 
 steps, form a second triangle ! — ropes drawn in again ! ! — 
 Don Michele safe on board ! ! ! 
 
 x\fter a short excuse to tlie first lieutenant forbriuirinir an 
 unbidden guest, and introducing at the same time Don Mi- 
 chele, as a particular friend of mine, he was received with 
 every mark of politeness by all the oflScers on deck, with none 
 of whom he could com^erse, except by a profusion of fine 
 bows of the old school, accompanied with as many formal 
 '^ umilissimo's."j- As there was still time before dinner, I 
 
 stated 
 
 ' See plate 12. + Most bumble servant, 
 
 T T ^ 
 
32i 
 
 stated Don I\Iichele*s wish to inspect the ship, offerirtg to be 
 the interpreter ; to which the first lieutenant very ol^liginj^ly 
 rephed, that there was no need of an interpreter, since the 
 doctor understood and Hkcd Italiano as well as any man, and 
 w^ould be happy to show my friend every thing on board ; he 
 therefore would introduce us to him directly. Accordingly 
 we proceeded down to the gun-room, in the way to which 
 D. Michele, although repeatedly cautioned, knocked his pe- 
 ricranium more than once against the beams, and took a- 
 bundance of snuff to counteract the bilgy jgttiuvia that assail- 
 ed his delicate nostrils. The surgeon, to whom we now were 
 presented, appeared to be a North Briton by his accent, pos- 
 sessed (as we soon found) of all the urbanity of manners, infor- 
 mation, and modesty peculiar to his countrymen. I thought 
 proper to tip him a hint respecting my landlord's extraordi- 
 nary character^ a precaution I deemed necessary, to obviate 
 unpleasant misunderstandings. The surgeon seemed delight- 
 ed with an opportunity of speaking his favorite language. He 
 surveyed my friend's costume with evident marks of surprise, 
 shook him bv the hand, and offered of his own accord to lead 
 \\% round the ship. His own cabin probably was, in the doct- 
 or's opinion, the most interesting object on board ; for into 
 that wc were ushered, by the light of a candle, daylight 
 bein£r a desideratum. A chest of suroical instiinnents for 
 amputating legs, drawing teeth, trepanniug, &c., was dis- 
 played, to the no great gratification of the Neapolitan visi- 
 tor, who observed, he had seen the like, and better, a thou- 
 sand times before. The next thing was a portfolio of draw- 
 ings, which the doctor stated to be his own performance, and 
 v.'hich, indeed, were no contemptible specimens of his talents 
 as an artist ; by no means in want of the apology, that they 
 were all done by candle-light in that very cabin. 
 
 Among others, there happened to be a view of a portion 
 of the city of Pompeji, beautifully executed. The ruinous 
 
 buildings 
 
325 
 
 buildings formed a pleasing" contrast with some picturesque 
 clusters of palm and other trees interspersed between them, 
 groups of cattle were grazing in the quadrangular coui't-yard 
 of the barracks, and in the foreground some stones with in- 
 scriptions, Corinthian capitals, and broken friezes were neg^ 
 ligently scattered about ; the whole forming a very pictu- 
 resque tout-ensemble. Don Michele, on being told the subject 
 of the drawing, asked ichen the view was taken ? — '' Last 
 week."^ — " Cosa miraculosa assav^' !" replied he very drily ; 
 '' for Siirnor Don Lui^i and I were there six or seven weeks 
 ago, and not a palm-tree could we see far or near. — And as 
 to these goats and sheep," continued the severe critic, " if 
 they have had to live upon what grass ive saw on this very 
 spotj I make no doubt but by this time the poor beasts re- 
 semble the skeletons which my classic friend here (poiniing 
 to me) would fain have made me believe were discovered 
 among the ruins." — These very unseasonable remarks of D. 
 Michele, however true they might be, gave me a world of 
 pain, esjiecially when I saw the doctor's countenance labour 
 under unequivocal symptoms of embarrassment. But while I 
 was studying on some turn or other to qualify my friend's ob- 
 servation, the North Briton, with much candour, confessed, 
 that he too had seen neither palm-trees nor cattle on the spot 
 here represented by him ; but that the cheerless aspect of the 
 bare ruins, and the arid nature of the ground, had induced 
 him to resort to his imagination, to enliven the scene, and to 
 give to the whole the romantic coup d'csil, which I had been 
 pleased to admire in his insignificant performance ; and (to 
 make the confession complete) that the same motives had in- 
 duced him to disperse over his opaque fore-ground these few 
 broken capitals, inscril^ed stones, &c. — that in doing so he 
 had only availed himself of the licence usual with artists as 
 well as with poets. 
 
 My 
 
 * Wonderful indeed ! 
 
326 
 
 IMy perverse companion had now exactly what he had 
 been spelling for, and what indeed he had known before- 
 hand : "' That poets/' he observed, ''claim the privilege of 
 telling lies by bushels, no one will wonder at, nor care about ; 
 since, if you take that from them, and restrict them to truth, 
 you rob them of their trade and their bread. Nor would I re- 
 prehend the labour of an artist, who, in composing a land- 
 scape or any other drawing by the sole help of his imagina- 
 tion, introduced any object which his fancy might suggest to 
 him as likely to heighten the effect of his fictitious perform- 
 ance. But in taking a view from nature, nature alone is to 
 be copied, and faithfully copied ; and for that simple reason, 
 that others who inspect it may be enabled to form a correct 
 idea of the place they have not seen. Now, Signor Dottore, 
 allow me but this question — When you get back to your 
 friends in England, and shew them this romantic view of 
 Pompeji, what sort of a notion will they form of the place, 
 unless you stand by, wdth your finger, and inform them : 
 ' These trees you must not mind, they are merely put in to 
 add to the effect ; nor are these pretty he-goats and lamb- 
 kins of any consequence, they being likewise introduced for 
 effect's sake ; and as for these fragments and inscriptions, 
 don't believe a word of them either, they owe their place to 
 my idea of effect and symmetry.' The effect of all these fan- 
 ciful effects will probably be, that your friends will give 
 credit to your imagination at the expence of your veracity, 
 and be at a loss to know what part of the picture to take for 
 real." 
 
 The poor surgeon was looking at me with perfect amaze- 
 ment, whispering in English, " what a queer fish, this friend 
 of your's !" To which I briefly remarked, that to find fault 
 was the ruling and onlj/ foible in D. Michele's character, an«l 
 entreated for indulgence towards him. 
 
 The Calabrcse critic^ scarcely interrupted by these few words. 
 
 con- 
 
S27 
 
 continued : — " I say tlicy will be at a loss what part of the 
 picture to take for real and what for imaginary : poor souls ! 
 as to the reality of any part of these ruins, I could tell 'em 
 another story, which would render it of little consequence, 
 whether a few trees or sheep were added to what is altogether 
 fictitious./' — Here my sapient landlord began broaching 
 that monstrous notion of his, already quoted in my former 
 letters, according to which all the ruins of Pompcji were ar- 
 tificial, and had been erected at a great expence by the go- 
 vernment, in order, among other reasons, to eclipse the 
 antiquities and collections to be met with at Rome, and to 
 attract credulous foreigners to Naples in preference. This 
 favorite topic was now followed up in the doctor's birth by a 
 variety of sagacious arguments on the part of Don Michele, 
 who, enamoured with the fluency of his own rhetoric, had 
 seemingly quite forgotten, that our primary object had been 
 to see the construction and interior of the frigate. Fortu- 
 nately, when in the midst of his dissertation, he was inter- 
 rupted by the arrival of a boy (not a Ganymede in beauty or 
 cleanliness,) who, to my inexpressible satisfaction, announ- 
 ced dinner on the table. — That we followed him instantly, 
 you will readily suppose ; for the doctor seemed equally 
 glad to be relieved of any further Michelian lectures, mut- 
 tering, as he went, " He's as mad as a March hare !" 
 
 We had boiled fowls, green peas, an excellent joint of 
 roast beef, (which elicited cherishing recollections of Old 
 England, my friends and you foremost), pies, pudding, &c. 
 Of the fowls, Don Michele refused any part, declaring that 
 in Naples neither fowls or pigs were ever boiled. I trembled 
 for fear of some fresh rudeness (to which you will allow there 
 was already an ample text provided), but was agreeably 
 disappointed by his requesting a slice of rosso biffb, which, 
 for a wonder, so pleased his palate, that he declared the Nea- 
 politans to be no better than chicci * for not introducing^ so 
 
 * Jackasses, CXCcl- 
 
328 
 
 excellent a dish on their tables. That he declined partak- 
 ing- of the peas, I for«j'ave hiin willingly ; since the fust season 
 for that vegetable, although not beg'un in England, was 
 past at Naples : they therefore remained in undisturbed re- 
 pose, to exhibit the semblance of a tesselated pavement, va- 
 riegated by stones of green, black, brown and yellow hues. 
 The latter colour prevailed in this vegetable mosaic^ the na- 
 ture of which it was proper to describe for the better under- 
 stand in<r of what follows. 
 
 While we were busy with the pies, our v.aitin^ atten- 
 dants, the Anti-Ganimede and another Tar- Adonis of about 
 fourteen, were stilling their animal cravings with the re- 
 mains of our table in the sternmost recess of the gun-room, 
 by the light of two small port-holes, sufficient for their pur- 
 pose, but not capable of exhibiting" to us the exact progress 
 of their operations. Whether the green peas left to their 
 manducation were a welcome feast to tlie?n, I cannot say ; 
 but so much is certain, that, while occupied in picking out 
 the most tender, the martial spirit implanted in British youth, 
 especially of the navy, suggested to these young' heroes, the 
 practability of employing the most hardened particles of the 
 mosaic in the manner of missile weapons, of bullets in mini- 
 ature ; and of thus practising' in their obscure recess an inte- 
 restino; sort of sham-fioht. As in real combat, single shots 
 only were at first exchanged, till, when the growing' ardour 
 of the parties had rendered the contest more and more spirit- 
 ed^ broadside answered broadside. One of these^ unskilfully 
 levelled, missed its aim^ flew forward^ and raked up the pow- 
 der of my friend's head dress, as a cannon ball that strikes 
 the breach, throws up volumes of dust, sand, and mortar. 
 Don Michele's gravity and temper were not discomposed by 
 this unexpected and unprovoked act of hostility ; on the con- 
 trary^ he exclaimed with a witty coldness, " Abhiamo, per 
 Dio, nemicl in dietro da noi* !" But the first lieutenant, 
 
 * By heavens, we have foes in our rear ! who 
 
329 
 
 who understood no joke^ particularly ^iien in Italian^ ex- 
 claimed with a thundering' voice, " Halloo, who is that sky- 
 larking* abaft there ?" Upon which Ganymede declared it 
 was the fire of Adonis, and the latter retorted the charge 
 upon his antagonist. Each party protested that the other 
 had fired the first shot, assertion against assertion. This ar- 
 gument, however, was soon brought to a close by the lieu- 
 tenant, who was excessively incensed at the disrespect of his 
 myrmidons : " You rascals," he exclaimed, " you have 
 pleased yourselves by acting a sham-fight ; by G — d, you 
 shall please the company by performing a real one." — So 
 saying, he ordered the stew^ard to bring two ropes-ends, one 
 of which was handed to each of the juvenile combatants, 
 Avith the threatening injunction, that if they did not lay on 
 each other w ith all their might, they should be lashed across 
 a gun, and have an argumenliim a posteriori applied to their 
 center of gravity with a cat-o'nine-tails. 
 
 It was not the preceding menace alone which rendered 
 this novel mode of punishment very effectual ; for as neither 
 party felt the strength of the blows he inflicted upon the o- 
 iher, each very soon imagined he received an oppressive 
 overplus, and accordingly exerted additional wrathful 
 strength towards equalizing the portions. Both, however, 
 began soon to roar so piteously, that Don Michele, whose 
 soul at bottom was most susceptible of compassion, strenu- 
 ously interceded for a cessation of arms, which was forth- 
 with granted, very much against the opinion of the Master, 
 who declared, that such a starting as this, twice or three 
 times a week, w ould do them no harm, and be what they rich- ' 
 ly deserved ; convinced as he felt, that both the rascals w^ere 
 as great thieves as any on board of a Woolwich hulk, and 
 that it was one of them to a certainty that had stolen the pair 
 of compasses he left on the table the other day. 
 
 u u 
 
 Tran- 
 
330 
 
 Tranquillity, however, being restored, and the cloth re- 
 moved, tlie bottle was put in circulation with a health to 
 ^' General Breezo;" and, to entertain my friend in a suit- 
 able manner, the doctor, who, as caterer, presided at table, 
 sent for M'Murdoch the bagpiper. The Eolus of harmony 
 appeared forthwith, and, having- duly prepared himself by 
 the donative of a glass of strong grog, began his performance 
 with '' The flowers of Edinburgh," in which the treble pipes 
 went with rapid execution over a number of notes_, while the 
 uninterrupted monotonous snorting of one or two larger 
 tubes formed a sostenuto bass-accompaniment of peculiar 
 elegance. Here I had an opportunity of observing how 
 vague and various taste is, and how little it is to be reduced 
 to one standard. The doctor's eyes glistened with joy at the 
 sound of his national air delivered by a countryman of his 
 on his national instrument ; while the Neapolitan's frequent 
 yawnings and contortions proclaimed to me at least, the 
 little entertainment he derived from this Highland music. 
 Indeed, on being proudly asked how he liked the tune, he 
 by no means minced his opinion, but broadly declared, that 
 he was glad to see the company so well amused by it, and, 
 on that account, could not but approve of what afforded plea- 
 sure to his friends, even at the expence of his own taste ; to 
 follow the dictates of which, he was bound to say, that he 
 would as soon hear the squallings of half a dozen of famished 
 brats, as the grating sounds of so barbarous an instrument. 
 Upon this unexpected remark, our hosts were civil enough 
 to put an end to the first act of the concert by dismissing 
 Mr. M'lMurdoch with his bagpipes. ^' Aye," said the first 
 lieutenant, on hearing my friend's opinion, " these Neapo- 
 litan Siirnors are all for the vocal, so let's be on t'other tack. 
 We'll give him a song every bit as good, and better may- 
 hap, as any he has heard from the best of his what d'ye call 
 'ems. Start ahead, Jem !" 
 
 This 
 
331 
 
 This Jem was one of the juvenile gladiators who, a quar- 
 ter of an hour ago, had fought and suffered in single combat 
 for the entertainment of the company. The potent effects of 
 nautic discipline, nevertheless, brought him instantly forward, 
 in spite of his sobs, the remains of the recent castigation. The 
 lieutenant, however, fully aware that the lad's present dispo- 
 sition would be a terrible drawback on his vocal powers, and 
 on the opinion thereof with which he intended to impress 
 Don Michele for the honour of the ship, was not at a loss to 
 prescribe an alternative, and accordingly ordered the youth 
 to laugh for a glass of grog (by way of prelude I suppose). 
 Poor James protested, in the strongest manner, that if it 
 were for a hundred guineas, he was incapable of making a 
 risible effort just at present. '' You shall laugh for much 
 less I promise you," rejoined the incensed ofhcer, who con- 
 sidered the refusal as a contempt of orders. " Another good 
 hiding, I suspect, will do the business." Here the doctor 
 observed on the possibility of a contrary effect being pro- 
 duced by additional blows; adding, that since the lad had 
 had a quantum siifficit of that prescription, he would in prefer- 
 ence recommend a dose of jalap, which he would forthwith 
 mix up for him, if he did not do what he was bid ; and this 
 with the greater readiness, as he knew the boy's constitution 
 was in want of a strou"; cathartic. 
 
 Chance, tliat fickle goddess, which enthrones and deposes 
 monarchs, gains and loses battles, which gave rise to the most 
 important inventions, and by a sponge angrily thrown pro- 
 duced the dog's foam after all the art of Protogenes had in 
 vain attempted to imitate it — Chance, I say, now came in aid 
 of DOor Jem's distressinji' situation. For Don Michele, de- 
 sirous of beholding the boy's countenance, turned his head 
 sharply, when two or three peas which had settled in his 
 hair, were shaken out of their lodgment, and by a rattling 
 nsound (which betrayed their age) announced their arrival on 
 
 u u 2 the 
 
232 
 
 the floor, along which they ran in diverging; tracks. Against 
 the effects of this phenomenon all the lad's sorrow was as little 
 proof, as most of the company's gravity. An involnntary 
 half-stifled titter saved him from the cathartic mixture, and 
 served to tune his vocal organs into a fitness for action. 
 Taking hold, therefore, of the tiller-rope above him with 
 one hand, in order to have one left to accompany the voice 
 on the button-holes of his jacket, and shutting fast both eyes, 
 he began, " 'Twas post meredicm lialf past four," which 
 he gave at full length, to the great satisfaction of all present, 
 perhaps even of Don Michele, who declared the lad's voice 
 to be a very good one, and that it was a pity he was not 
 put into one of the conservatorios at Naples, where, by a 
 scientific instruction, and a proper direction and modification 
 of his rude natural powers, he might in time become as 
 great a singer as Braham and others were, that had had 
 luck and sense enough to seek perfection at the fountain 
 head. The lieutenant, on the interpretation of this ol>ser- 
 vation, assured my friend, that Jem would do very well as 
 he was, without being put into any of his reserroys, or under- 
 going any other scientific operation. 
 
 After a few. more sono:s, such as " Ye n:entlemen of 
 England," '' The cherub that sits up aloft," &c. a walk 
 upon deck was proposed till tea-time ; and as the captain 
 was on shore, his cabin was shewn to Don Michele, who, 
 for once, admired its elegance, and the fanciful manner in 
 which groups of muskets, pistols, and swords were arranged 
 along its sides. As it was o-rowino- late, we soon after tea 
 took leave of the officers, especially the first lieutenant and 
 doctor, who promised their company at a dance I am about 
 giving in my quarters on the Infrescata, principally to please 
 the family I lodge with, and from whom 1 receive such incessant 
 marks of kindness. Of this, as well as of any other matter 
 that may occur in the interval, you shall have a faithful re- 
 lation in the next letter you will receive from 
 
 Your's, *****. 
 
333 
 
 LETTER XVII 
 
 Dear T- 
 
 IF chance or inclination should ever lead you to 
 Naples, and your social disposition be at a loss for acquaint- 
 ances amono; its inhabitants, my recent experience enables 
 me to point out a method infinitely more efficient than a 
 pocket-book full of letters of introduction. All you have 
 to do, my good friend, is to give a dance in your apartments, 
 as soon as ever you are comfortably housed. " But," say you, 
 ^'^ a dance requires dancers" — agreed — '' Dancers must be 
 sought among one's friends and acquaintances ; these, there- 
 fore".... Gently, gently, friend Tom ! your hyperborean lo- 
 gic you had better leave in its paternal latitude of fifty odd^ 
 before you enter into the heaven of earth, the Campagna 
 felice, unless you be prepared to have its frigid texture soft- 
 ened, dissolved, yea, evaporated under the genial rays of a 
 Parthenopian sun. Joking aside, I tell you once more, your 
 acquaintances are to be selected from the dancers, not the 
 dancers souglit for among the former ; and if you will have 
 a little patience, and not interrupt me again with your logi- 
 cal doubts, or rather your doubtful logic, 1 mean to prove 
 my assertion by my own example. What do you say to six- 
 teen or seventeen new Neapolitan acquaintances since last 
 Wednesday? — But to the point. 
 
 I have already mentioned to you, that my object in giv- 
 ing this ball, was solely a desire, by a little treat to the peo- 
 ple of the house, to make some return for the attention and 
 Kindness which every member of this numerous family vies 
 
 with 
 
334 
 
 with the others in shewing; to me. The thiiio- had loii"* been 
 promised, and expected ; no wonder, then, that one eve- 
 ning, when I was sitting in the midst of them, highly en- 
 tertained by the mirthful and spirited conversation of this 
 careless (I mean care-free) and happy race. Donna Luisa, 
 mifortunately for her, began bantering me about the long 
 talked of dance, and asked when it was to be. For this she 
 was most severely rebuked by her father, not only, as he 
 declared, because it was an unwarrantable freedom in her to 
 ask such a question, but also as it appeared no better than 
 a broad hint, that they were tired of me altogether ; '' for," 
 added he, " did not Don Luigi declare the dance should be 
 previous to his departure, as much as to say, that after the 
 dance his stay with us would not be long ; \\ hy then hasten 
 this forerunner of liis loss?" I strongly pleaded for the 
 poor girl, by assuring her father, that at whatever time the 
 little festival took place, my subsequent departure would 
 not be hastened on that account. And in this declaration, I 
 apprehend I spoke even more than the truth ; for it is not 
 unlikely the new accjuaiutances I have formed through my 
 ball, will delay my departure instead of accelerating it. 
 Last Wednesday, then, was fixed for the great day, and to 
 put Mr. Michel into good humour again, 1 requested it as 
 a particular favour (thus making a merit of necessity), that 
 he would not only officiate as master of the ceremonies on 
 the occasion, but charge himself with all the preparatory ar- 
 rangements. I had no sooner spoken, than he assumed an 
 air of important complacency, rose from his seat, and begged 
 I would adjourn with him to my room up stairs, as it was im- 
 possible to talk the matter over properly '' before all these 
 women ; " at which observation, all these women looked ex- 
 tremely black. His son-in-law alone was admitted to our 
 conclave ; for what reason, however, I know not, as he could 
 not offer any proposal without being silenced by the father, 
 with a surly admonition to hold his tongue and let his bet- 
 ters speak. As 
 
335 
 
 As the result of our negotiations will appear in the sequel, 
 I shall at present only observe that I gave to my major do- 
 mo carte blanche, to do as he pleased, and to ask as many 
 of his friends a? the room would hold ; reserving- to myself 
 the power of inviting two or three of my Euglish friends from 
 the city, which he was kind enough lo grant ; and express- 
 ing a Avish to see the fair Donna Giuliana^ and her uncle, 
 Don GiacomO;, from Pozzuoli, I meant to have made some 
 additions to our programme, when I rose the next morning, 
 but found Don Michele had already sallied forth to the city, 
 to execute the needful, leaving a message with his daughter,, 
 that he probably might not be back at dinner-time^ in which 
 case, if his company was not disagreeable^ he would do him- 
 self the honour of eating his maccaroni with me, and of re- 
 porting the success of his commissions. 
 
 Now here there ought, by rights, to come in a little epi- 
 sode of a page or two. For you must know, that suspect- 
 ing, from a certain indifference I observed in my whimsical 
 friend when I mentioned Donna Giuliana and her uncle, that 
 he did not much care whether they were of the party, and per- 
 haps might omit acquainting them with my desire, I deter- 
 mined to set out that very morning for Pozzuoli myself, de- 
 liver my message in person, take the Solfatara in my return, 
 which I had not yet seen (although so long in Naples), and 
 endeavour to be home to dinner at the usual hour. This 
 trip, I say, ought to be noticed in this place, were I to fol- 
 low the order of events. But as I am not writing a journal 
 or log-book, and, moreover, as I know my foible of spin- 
 ning out every thing to an unconscionable length, and am 
 aware of the quantity of matter more immediately apper- 
 taining to my subject, J have the prudence not to begin a 
 digression, the end of which I cannot foresee. For when I 
 once enter on a subject, I am like Protogenes, the famous 
 Rhodian painter of whom Apelles said, that he never knew 
 
 when 
 
336 
 
 wlicii to take off liis hands from a picture. You shall not 
 lose the account altogether ; only remit me the narrative for 
 the present : imagine me, without having succeeded in my 
 errand, returned from Pozzuoli in the heat of the day, ar- 
 rived at my quarters before Don Michele, the dinner half 
 spoiled by his not coming, and your humble servant faint 
 ^vith hunger or heat I don't know which. At last I spied him 
 turning the corner of the vico,* his hat in one hand, wiping 
 w ith the other the drops off his forehead. — His official report 
 was as follows : 
 
 " The execution of your orders, sir, is the cause of your 
 waiting ; for when D. Michele undertakes a thing, he likes 
 to go through with it at once. First, as to the company, 
 there \\ ill be ten couple, besides our family and some odd 
 ones, if they all come, of which there is little doubt, al- 
 though two or three were not at home when I called ; and 
 what is more, gente di garho,-\ such as you might suppose 
 my friends to be. Three or four will come in their own car- 
 riages ; and some of the lasses will shew you what is called 
 dancing at Naples. Care too has been taken, that they 
 should not want for good music : you w ill have, Signor Don 
 Luigi, the first oboe of St. Carlo, two excellent violins, a 
 flute, tenor, and violoncel — my son will play the tambou- 
 reen." 
 
 " Six musicians, Don Michele, for this little dance ! why 
 that's out of all reason. Half the number" 
 
 " Are hired, and the others gentlemen high in the pro- 
 fession, who for 7iiy sake have promised to assist as friends 
 at your party. Money, of course, is out of the question. 
 You see, good sir, Don Michele can command a thing or 
 two. As many more would have come if I had asked them ; 
 
 * Lane, + Qualify. 
 
 but 
 
337 
 
 but these will be sufficient to begin the evening with a little 
 concert : my friend will give you a concerto on the oboe ; 
 one of the ladies will sing a scena from an opera, to which 
 we may add a duet or two ; and at ten o'clock the dance 
 shall begin. — As to the refreshments, I have almost run my 
 legs off to get you the rum" (the ladies were to be treated 
 with ice punch, as a rarity), '*^at last I found it at an apo- 
 thecary's ; he will send three bottles this afternoon. Seven- 
 ty ices are ordered, cakes and sweetmeats as you desired, 
 and a friend of mine will lend us a dozen of wall-chande- 
 liers. — So, you see, Signor Don Luigi, that I have not been 
 idle all this while ; and the pains I have taken will be to 
 some purpose, I warrant you. Your dance w ill be spoken 
 of long after you shall have forgotten us poor Neapolitans." 
 
 That I did not suffer such an insinuation to pass unrebut- 
 ted, you will suppose : I thanked my friend for the expedi- 
 tion and trouble he had bestowed upon the execution of my 
 wishes, and assured him that I should depend in every thing 
 relating to the further arrangements, upon his superior taste 
 and judgment ; to which he gravely replied ''Lascia far a 
 me*." The important day arrived at last, to my great joy ; 
 for, during the last forty-eight hours, I had no longer been 
 the master of my apartment. Not only dusting and scrub- 
 bing (occupations so unusual at Naples) had been the order 
 of the day, but the merciless hammering of Don Michele 
 and his son-in-law, mounted on a pair of steps, annoyed my 
 head to such a degree, that I was the best part of the time 
 on horseback. When I returned from the last of these for- 
 ced rides, I confess I was struck with the elegant appear- 
 ance of my abode : the chandeliers were connected by fes- 
 toons of artificial flowers ; some unsightly parts of the wall 
 of my bed-room (the bed of which had been removed, God 
 knoNys where to) were concealed by damask hangings ; and 
 
 anum- 
 
 •« Let me alone for that, 
 X X 
 
338 
 
 a luunber of liower-pots, tastefully placed in the windows 
 and on the sideboards^ exhaled their fragrant perfume over 
 the whole suit of rooms. The operation^ however^ in which 
 I found my master of the ceremonies^ when 1 entered the 
 apartments,, was a mystery to me. He was busily occupied 
 in locking- every drawer of my two commodes, the closet^ my 
 trunk, &c. ; and having done so, handed me the several 
 keys, observing, " Here, Sir, are all your keys^ every thing- 
 is safe now." I replied, that I presumed it would have been 
 equally so without his taking this trouble^ for the few friends 
 at least, /had asked ; and that as to those he had invited, I 
 should have deemed the most distant suspicion of their ho- 
 nesty, an insult upon him. '' It may be so,," answered he, 
 with his usual surly tone, '' and I dare-say it will be so ; 
 but, at all events, the removing of temptation is the part of 
 a good Christian, and can do no harm." The precautions 
 of ^Master IMichael, as I found afterwards^ were by no means 
 superfluous ; indeed, they were even incomplete, as you shall 
 learn by and bye. 
 
 I am not going to plague you with a minute journal of 
 the proceedings of the evening ; but a fev/ incidents, I 
 imagine, will entertain you. The musicians arrived in 
 good time, and the company dropped in fast after eight 
 o'clock. The carriages began to rattle in my humble 
 lane, and attracted its curious inhabitants to every window. 
 To receive such a number of strange faces appropriately, was 
 a most irksome task ; but it w as alleviated by the sight of 
 many a good-looking young lass, and two or three real 
 beauties; one especially. Donna Carlina, reminded me of 
 
 JMiss , as being a handsome and animated likeness of 
 
 that young lady. My English friends from the city, and the 
 
 lieutenant and doctor fi'om the frigate, likewise made 
 
 their appearance in due time ; and healthy as their coun- 
 tenances shone forth, and well dressed as they were, they 
 
 greatly 
 
339 
 
 greatly eclipsed my Neapolitan bucks, and found much 
 grace among the ladies. I could not help remarking the 
 contrast of manners between two Christian countries. In a 
 more northern latitude, persons comiug to the party of a 
 perfect stranger, would have conducted themselves with that 
 cautious, anti-social reserve which some people call good 
 manners; some of the ladies would have sat down on their 
 chairs as prim and as stiff as so many hop-poles, cast down 
 their modest looks until spoken to by charity, and then re- 
 buffed a second attempt by a monosyllabic reply, a '' Yes^ 
 sir," an " Indeed, sir," a '' Yon are very good, sir," &c. 
 Now I will just tell you how matters went on in the Infres- 
 cata: monstrons bows and introductory compliments, and 
 a rapid promotion in the rank of your humble servant — I 
 was Signor Colonello as long as the party lasted. The in- 
 troduction once over, all these people seemed as though 
 they had been twenty times in my company. Nor did I 
 once hear '' A charming evening, sir," or '' The weather 
 is excessively hot," expressions we have so very pat, al- 
 though so insignificant ; for what, in the name of Heaven, 
 need I be told what weather it is, as if I did not know that 
 just as well as the person who tells it me? What all were 
 most inquisitive abont, was the state of my health, for the 
 recovery of which tliey had learnt that I had come to Naples. 
 On this score, I had a thousand compliments, which pleased 
 mo, although I was sure they were dictated by flattery. An 
 invahd, my dear T. is as vain in being told he looks well, as 
 a young coquette in the praise of her beauty. " Ah," said 
 Donna Carlina, who, to my great sin-prise, appeared a near 
 neighbour, " believe me, sir, as often as I see your man turn 
 the corner of the lane, with a handful of phials, I heave a 
 deep sigh : our doctors are great rogues, and if they w ere 
 ever so honest, you don't want them; why you now look 
 better and stronger than any of mycoimtrymen in the room." 
 I^or this extraordinary compliment, I returned her very sin- 
 
 X X 9^ cere 
 
340 
 
 cere thanks^ observing, that if there was a momentary 
 change for the better in my looks, I felt warranted in ascrib- 
 ing it to her presence. She was going to repartee something, 
 when we were interrupted by the arrival of more new faces, 
 whom Don Michele presented to me with great formality, 
 adding, that as there were but few visitors wanting, the mu- 
 sicians might begin the concert, which I approved. He 
 likewise whispered in my ear, that one of the ladies, and se- 
 veral Neapolitan gentlemen of the company, were good 
 singers; that they had brought abundance of opera-music 
 with them, and that, therefore, it would be best to have as 
 little instrumental music as possible, perhaps the oboe- 
 concerto alone would be sufficient under existing circum- 
 stances ; to all which I likewise nodded assent. 
 
 After the oboe-concerto, therefore, which really was de- 
 lightfully played, the operatic budget was opened : a young 
 lady, with her brother, sung a duet from '' II Fancdico per 
 la Musica," with great and deserved applause. It was now 
 suggested, whether, as there were several more singers in 
 the room, we might not be able to muster sufficient strength 
 for the finale in the first act of II Matrimonio Segreto. Vo- 
 lunteers were called for, and on counting the parts, nothing 
 but a bass voice was found to be wanting. Every thing 
 seemed at a stand for a fev/ minutes, till seeing that there 
 was no chance to supply the defect otherwise, I offered to 
 undertake the part, if the company would indulge any blun- 
 der I might commit. The truth was, that from seeing this very 
 opera perhaps half-a-dozen times, I knew it almost by heart, 
 and the finale, in particular, was very familiar to me. Don 
 Michele, who had no idea of my singing by notes, seemed 
 amazed at my boldness, and observed, with a significant 
 sneer, " Take care. Signer Don Luigi, not to stick fast in 
 the middle, this is not ship's music" (alluding to the songs 
 he had so severely censured whep on board the frigate), — I 
 
 beoo'ed 
 
341 
 
 begged him to mind his own business, and the performance 
 began. When I found that all my fellow-singers executed 
 their parts in character, that is to say, with all the comic ges- 
 ticulations and the emphasis that would be required on the 
 stage, I was not backward in throwing a quantum sufficit of 
 mimicry into mij task, and you know I can play the fool up- 
 on occasion. Once or twice I had nearly been put out by 
 my friend Michele, who had planted himself directly opposite 
 to me, and whose pleasing astonishment was every now and 
 then interrupted by a '' Bravo, carissimo." When we had 
 finished, the clapping of hands was universal, and the old 
 fool, in his ecstasy of delight, flew towards me, embraced me^ 
 and imprinted half-a-dozen savoury kisses on my cheeks, ex- 
 claiming, '' Signor Don Luigi, you have delighted my very 
 soul — who could have guessed you were such a singer, nay, 
 such an actor — a second Casaciello, jjer Dio ! Why, if you 
 were to stay with us another twelvemonth, we should disco- 
 ver new talents and new perfections of your's every week ; 
 gentlemen, as you see him here, he is a soldier, a scholar, a 
 musician, a painter, a 
 
 " A painter !" exclaimed Donna Carlina, " oh, that's 
 rare, indeed ! May I, may I ask a favour ?" — "Twenty, if 
 you please. Donna Carlina, and you will find me as obedient 
 in granting the last as the first." '' Don't mind what the 
 girl says," interrupted her mother, '' she is an impudent mad 
 cap : fye, Carlina, to make so free with the Signor Colonello ! 
 I'll tell you. Sir, what she is spelling for. She had her pic- 
 lure done by a painter in the city, to send to my son Anto- 
 nio, an officer in the emperor's service, and a good likeness 
 it is. You shall judge to-morrow, if you will honour us with 
 your company, but somehow or other it pleases not her va- 
 nity, she says it is as ugly as sin, and won't send it." 
 
 " It cannot be a likeness, if Donna Carlina's opinion is>^ 
 correct." '' There, 
 
342 
 
 " There^ iNIamma^ do you hear ? And here^ look at this 
 frame, Avhich is the colonel's doing-. Now, although it is as 
 ugly a face as God Almighty has ever created, I warrant 
 every one will know it to be the shade of our friend Don 
 Michele." 
 
 These observations created a general laugh, in which Don 
 Michele had the good sense to join, observing, however, that 
 he could never submit to the verdict of o?zc" judge, alone, in 
 an affair so important to his domestic peace, w ere it only on 
 his wife's account ; and therefore appealed to the justice of 
 the whole company, for the truth of Miss Caroline's assertion. 
 Upon this, a wit proposed collecting the votes of every one, 
 went round whispering, and finally declared the opinion of 
 the majority to be, that Don ^lichele was a good-looking 
 man when pleased, but the most ugly bear w hen disputing-, 
 or out of humour ; a sentence which was confirmed by his 
 wife in its full extent. 
 
 To return to Donna Carlina ; I promised to draw her 
 shade, provided she would allow me to keep a copy for my 
 own use ; to which she replied, " As many as you please, 
 to assist your recollection." 
 
 As this might be taken in two very different ways, and as 
 there was plenty of work cut out for the rest of the evening-, 
 I answered w ith a bow, gave orders to prepare for the dance, 
 and to hand refreshments in the interval. My punch found 
 much favour with all present, the ladies not excepted, who 
 emptied their glasses as rapidly as if it had been lemonade. 
 I did not join in the country dance, resting my apology on 
 the state of my health, and my physician's recent and pe- 
 remptory orders not to indulge in any exercise which might 
 heat or excite the nervous system, as he called it. But, al- 
 though not dancing, I Avas fully employed in another way„ 
 
 as 
 
343 
 
 as you shall hear : — With all our windows open^ the strains 
 of my numerous orchestra propagated their sound over the 
 whole neighbourhood ; some of whose inhabitants^ impelled 
 by the attraction of sweet sounds^ could not resist favouring 
 me with their company. The circumstance of their not being 
 invited to the feast, appeared to them a mere trifle not wor- 
 thy of their attention^ and an extraordinary celerity in deco- 
 rating their exterior (which is all the essential part of a Nea- 
 politan's full-dress), would soon enable them to appear in 
 company with Neapolitan decency. To my great surprise, 
 therefore, Don Michele and I had to receive, from time to 
 time, an influx of these unbidden guests, who, in most sub- 
 missive language, begged a thousand pardons for their free- 
 dom and intrusion.* As Don Michele, my master of the 
 ceremonies, seemed to know them all, and, moreover, as I 
 could neither help their coming, nor, when once arrived, 
 turn them out, I thought it best to put a good face on the 
 matter, and receive every one, especially the ladies, with a 
 hearty welcome, assigning them places in the adjoining 
 room, where I contrived to form another set of dancers : 
 for the number of these parasitical guests soon grew nearly 
 equal to that of my standard company. 
 
 Now, my dear T. you will comprehend the mystery at the 
 outset of this letter, and allow the facility with which a set 
 of acquaintances may be formed in this populous city ; 
 I can, moreover, assure you, that some of these unasked 
 strangers were really people of respectability, whose society 
 I have already since found so agreeable and interesting, that 
 I regretted I had not known them at my arrival here ; and I 
 congratulated myself on the courteousness of my cosmopo- 
 litan disposition, which had prompted me not to give them 
 a cool reception at their first self-introduction. 
 
 But to return to my company, now capering away in two 
 
 of 
 
 * See phif 13. 
 
.344 
 
 of my apartments^ 1 blush to confess that my resohitlon to 
 keep my toes in a state of sober quiescence was shaken at 
 last. 1 could have witlistood the pressing solicitations of 
 half-a-clozen of these exhilarated damsels, but for the irre- 
 sistible temptation of their animated example and of the 
 excellent music. Fancy^ for once, dear T. the loving smiles, 
 the glistening eyes, the seducing attitudes of these pretty 
 Neapolitan bacchantes, and then ask your conscience how 
 long any Christian, were he even a Quaker or Moravian, 
 could have stood proof against such attraction ? The worst 
 of the thing was, that having once broken my vow by dan- 
 cing with Miss Carlina, a kind of rivalship ensued among 
 the other ladies, most of whom now laid a successive claim 
 to be led down a country dance by " il Signor Colondlo" — 
 With the assistance of my grave Mentor, Don Michele, I 
 satisfied them all ! for he peremptorily declared, that he 
 would not suffer any excess of fatigue which might lay me 
 up afterwards ; and therefore suggested, in order to please 
 all" parties, that I might be allowed to change my partner 
 during any one dance, whenever I thought proper. This 
 wise proposal of my friend's being agreed to, 1 contrived to 
 dispatch two or three fair candidates in a matter of a quarter 
 of an hour, allotting to each a space of time proportional to 
 the estimation I formed of her claims to my favour. 
 
 In the course of these pedestrian evolutions, I thought 1 
 observed in several of my fair partners, cheerful as they had 
 been before^ an unusual and extraordinary access of spirits 
 and gaiety ; which, with every allowance for the southern 
 latitude, and the ice-punch (now administered to them the 
 more frugally by reason of the unlooked for increase in my 
 numbers) I was at a loss to account for, till I saw my man 
 Benedetto whisper something into Don Michele's ear, which 
 the latter forthwith telegraphed into mine. 
 
 But before I let you into this secret, it is proper that, like 
 
 a skil- 
 
345 
 
 a skilful general, I should in my report of the action, give 
 a correct description of the localities of the field of battle. 
 The kitchen belonging to my apartments is on the same 
 floor with them ; and in this particular, the Neapolitan sys- 
 tem of domestic architecture is not different from what you 
 may have observed in a set of chambers, or in many old- 
 fashioned mansions in England. But in another point of 
 view, the former has that rare advantage of skilful contri- 
 vance over our mode of building, that in general a prox- 
 innty between the ultimate depot of the aliments, and the 
 place of their preparation, is considered as an essential re- 
 commendation in the construction of a Neapolitan kitchen 
 — debtor and creditor being often in as close a contiguity as 
 on the pages of a merchant's ledger. This order of things 
 being scrupulously adhered to in the architecture of my 
 quarters, it follows that the access to my kitchen could not 
 conveniently be interdicted to my guests, or else I make no 
 doubt my major-domo would have taken care to lock it ; al- 
 though, in a bachelor's culinary apparatus, you may sup- 
 pose there is not much to be laid hold of. Poor Don Mi- 
 chele, however, could not be aware of every thing. Right 
 opposite to the perforated tripod of the debtor side of this 
 kitchen of mine, there is an elevated shelf, on which stand 
 (I had better say stood) my three wine-bottles, of immense 
 calibre ; the first (having been emptied since my stay in the 
 Infrescata) then, and now, containing from six to eight gal- 
 lons of excellent atmospheric air (such as you breathe at 
 this altitude) ; the second, of similar dimensions, about half 
 full of delicious old Pozzuoli wine ; and the third, not less 
 in size, brimful of the like grape-juice, with its fluid oil- 
 bung floating at top. These unfortunate bottles being at an 
 elevation of about 40 deg. visual angle from the horizon of 
 the tripod, ought, in the nature of things, to have escaped 
 the prying, yet pi^o tempore downcast looks of my fair visi- 
 tors ; although, it is true, they had not to look up quite as 
 
 y Y high 
 
346 
 
 hii^h as mother Eve did after that unfortunate pippin, cod- 
 lin, or pomme d Uimow\ the digestion of which is so rigid- 
 ly entailed upon us poor mortals, that I even feel warranted 
 in ascribing to that primary faux-pas the illicit longings of 
 my Neapolitan fair guests after my frugal stock of Pozzuoli 
 wine. No sooner did one of the damsels espy the forbid- 
 den shelf, than, inasmuch as, on such occasions in particu- 
 lar, the sex is all over the world gregarious, the assault 
 thereon was a settled matter : veni, vidi, hihi, was the word ; 
 and my delicious Pozzuoli wine fell an easy prey to their 
 sacrilegious hands and palate.* Impleniur veteris Bacchi, or, 
 in plain English, mesdames tippied till they had their fill : 
 and what they left was very nearly finished by four or five 
 half-starved footmen, and other hall-rabble, in attendance 
 on their worthy masters ; for ,when Don Michele went into 
 the kitchen, he found but a small remnant in one of the 
 bottles, which he secured in his own room. 
 
 Inspired with the juice, and further exalted by the agi- 
 tation of dancing, most of my fair guests became still more 
 exhilarated, some grew ecstatically merry,and a few scarcely 
 manageable. Surrounded by these voluptuous " bacchae," 
 I feared the fate of Orpheus. Their frolics, however, I must 
 say to their credit, were chiefly levelled at Don Michele, 
 probably because he had spoiled the continuation of their 
 sport. This poor man had now to suffer all sorts of mischief 
 for refusing to join in their revels, till at last, for the sake of 
 peace, he consented to dance one minuet and no more. All 
 was hush in an instant, when he placed himself with his for- 
 tunate partner in the middle of the room, as stitf as buckram 
 and as serious as if he were occupied with the solution of an 
 algebraic problem. But no sooner had he performed the 
 first step or two, than, in turning his body with grave ele- 
 gance 
 
 * See plate 14. 
 
34-7 
 
 gance on the pivot of his toe^ a pair of white silk garters 
 (long and faithful servants to all appearance) were seen 
 gracefully dangling down hisback^ and describing, at every 
 turn of his automaton body, a variety of (lowing irregular 
 curves in the circumambient air. The merriment which this 
 unusual sight occasioned, was in vain attempted to be stifled 
 in a muttered litter ; it soon burst out with increased vio- 
 lence, his wife not excepted, who heartily joined the general 
 laugh, but informed her better half of the cause of the satisfac- 
 tion he gave to the company. For a wonder Master Michael 
 took the joke in good part, and availing himself of the ap- 
 pendage to his back, seized the ribbons with each hand at 
 the end, and continued his performance, with the addition 
 of a variety of figures he devised with his bandeaux, in the 
 manner of the shawl dance. This trait of his good sense had 
 the desired effect of warding off the previous ridicule he had 
 been under. But when he had gone through his pedestrian 
 diagrams of parallels and diagonals, and had conducted with 
 much formality his partner to her seat, he solemnly declared, 
 that he would not part with his prize unless he could restore 
 it precisely from whence it had come. What might have 
 been the result of this declaration, it is impossible to guess ; 
 for, no sooner had his wife heard it, than she asked to see 
 the garters, in order to ascertain the owner; but when she 
 had them, she put them in her pocket, saying, that she had 
 wanted a pair this long while, and these would do quite as 
 well as new ones, being, at all events, better than her own. 
 
 When I learned the extent of the spoliation commit- 
 ted upon my bin, I did not so much regret the actual loss 
 I thereby sustained, as apprehend some unpleasant scenes 
 of interruption to our festivity and mirth, from the excessive 
 indulgence in the forbidden juice. However, whether it was 
 owing to the excellence of the vintage, or to strength of 
 constitution in the fair partakers, only one casualty occurred ; 
 
 Y y 2 and 
 
348 
 
 and as we had fortunately our Caledonian .^sculapius at 
 hand, he was forthwith sent down stairs to administer profes- 
 sional relief, which in this instance consisted of the simple 
 recipe of a dish of tea, and was attended with the desired 
 beneficial effect, so as to enable the patient to return home 
 without any other assistance than the arm of her brother. 
 
 The dawn of morn was the signal for the gradual sepa- 
 ration of the company ; from all of whom, whether of the 
 establishment or extra g-uests, I had received, in the course 
 of the evening, the most pressing requests to make their 
 house my own : and, to their credit I must say, that, as far 
 as I have yet had time or inclination to ti-y the sincerity of 
 these invitations, I have had no cause to regret my compli- 
 ance. When all were gone, poor Don Michele had to sus- 
 tain a severe rebuke from his wife, for his carelessness in not 
 securing my wine-bottles: " But so it is," said the notable 
 good lady, '^ he will know every thing better than other 
 people ; had he done as I wished, and left us to mind these 
 and other matters. Signer Don Luigi would not have had 
 his wine drunk, and some of these would-be ladies would 
 have gone home sober, instead of making of them- 
 selves." To this accusation the husband made a retort 
 courteous, by blaming the female part of the family for not 
 accompanying the fair guests into the kitchen, and minding 
 the things there : and thus, in spite of my representation of 
 the insignificancy of the object, a neat and lively argument 
 was maintained between both parties for some time, and 
 only put an end to by the entrance of the confectioner with 
 the report, that, on counting the leaden ice-moulds he had 
 brought, five were missing, as also eight pewter lea-spoons, 
 which he hoped I would allow to be charged, as Don Mi- 
 chele had already made so hard a bargain with him, that if 
 he were to stand the loss of these (valuable) articles, he must 
 be out of pocket by me. My friend was now going to put 
 
 himself 
 
349 
 
 himself Into another passion, protesting that there were none 
 but gente di garho in the evening's party, people that would 
 disdain purloining such trifles; and that not a tornesi * 
 should be made good for the man's own negligence. But 
 when I learned that the object in dispute amounted to the 
 enormous sum of three or four shillings, I pacified the dealer 
 in snow by admitting it as a debit to my account of profit 
 and loss. 
 
 After this little anecdote of the ice-moulds, you will scarce- 
 ly suppose, my dear T. that any of the good things, such 
 as cakes, sweetmeats, &c. were suffered to remain on the 
 sideboard at the departure of my guests. Whether this 
 practice, not to " leave a wreck behind," is as general here 
 as I have observed it to be at Malta, I am unable to decide. 
 At the latter place, let the provision be ever so abundant, 
 what the stomach cannot compass, the pockets are sure to 
 hold ; and in stuffing those, no great nicety is observed : so 
 the article is portable at all, it finds its way into one or 
 the other of the pedestrian saddle-bags, as by instinct. I 
 have been assured by one of our officers, that, at a great fete 
 which General Fox recently gave at Malta, one of the inhabi- 
 tants (of sufficient rank to be of the party) very dexterously^ 
 and, as he fancied, unobserved, slipped a small pullet, wrapt 
 in his pocket-handkerchief, into one of his side receptacles. 
 Unfortunately, an officer near him seeing the slight-of-hand 
 transaction, poured a dose of parsley and butter after it, say- 
 ing very coolly, " Allow me, sir, to help you to a little sauce 
 at the same time." 
 
 But to return from Malta to the Infrescata, in order to 
 bring this long epistle to a decorous conclusion, I have only 
 to add, that the good humour of Don Michele was com- 
 pletely 
 
 * Small Neupolitap copper coin. 
 
350 
 
 pletely restored by the well-deserved compliment I paid him 
 on the efficiency and snugness of his arrangements, and by 
 the satisfaction I expressed ^t his conduct of the evening'sen- 
 tertainment. The family insisted on instantly putting up my 
 bed again in its old place, to afford me some rest ; an offer 
 which I declined, as it was not only broad daylight, but a 
 heavenly morning, such as my indolence had not yet allow- 
 ed me to enjoy since my stay in Naples, held out an irresis- 
 tible invitation to breathe the pure morning air of the lofty 
 and salubrious region I inhabit. I therefore saddled my 
 horse myself, and sallied forth across the Uomero towards 
 the Pianura, a favourite ride of mine. What a contrast 
 burst upon my feelings ! An hour ago plunged into the midst 
 of bacchanalian revels, I now quaffed rich draughts of the 
 purest vital air ; fluttering gusts of gentle morning breezes 
 waved the clustering foliage of the classic pine, just bronzed 
 by the glowing tints of the rising sun ; thousands of fea- 
 thered songsters hailed the new-born day with their wild 
 notes, in answer, as it were, to the distant matin-bells of the 
 Neapolitan convents ; thin and partial mists arose from the 
 luxuriant fields, leaving every herb and blade bespangled 
 with glistening drops of dew. Every now and then a pa- 
 noramic view of Naples and the surrounding counti*y burst 
 through the thickets of stately trees which girt the ele- 
 vated road ; and this enchanting picture was closed by the 
 venerable Volcano, emitting from its crater a thin and fleet- 
 ing cloud of harmless vapour.* Vivid recollections of my 
 earlier healthy years obtruded themselves involuntarily, my 
 heart expanded with the purest emotions, and after the re- 
 vel scenes I had but just shared in, I felt inwardly proud in 
 being still susceptible of the impressions of innocent delight 
 which Nature alone is capable of exciting. Refreshed in 
 body and mind, I returned home to breakfast ; and, after a 
 
 hearty 
 
 • See plate 15. 
 
ATJWW ?u-<n- r^APlLS S 
 
 i)i>i/i>n.,.fuh at KJck£r/ruuui.s ,2<nSt3and iSio . 
 
551 
 
 hearty meal^ took up my pen, in order to note down, for 
 this report, the principal features of the evening-'s transac- 
 tions. By thus retracing to you my Neapolitan adventures, 
 I enjoy in a manner over again the gratification which they 
 afforded me at the time of their occurrence ; while, at the 
 same time, I anticipate the pleasure I am convinced you de- 
 rive from their recital ; not on account of their intrinsic in- 
 terest, but because they relate exclusively to an individual 
 united to you by the sacred ties of the most indissoluble 
 friendship. 
 
 Your's, 
 
 * * * * 
 
 LETTER XVIII. 
 
 Dear T. 
 
 NOT to interrupt in my last letter to you the relation 
 of my grand Parthenopian ball and festival, an event 
 to be remembered, as Don Michele declares, by succeed- 
 ing generations in the Infrescata, I deferred, as you will 
 recollect, giving you the particulars of my trip to Pozzuoli ; 
 undertaken principally with a view to invite the fair Donna 
 Giuliana and her uncle Don Giacomo to be of my party ; 
 and, indeed en passant to inspect some of the natural curi- 
 osities in the vicinity of that town, which, although so very 
 near Naples, had, from what cause I know not, remained 
 yet unvisited by me. 
 
 While tarrying on classic ground, it is excusable to be 
 classically superstitious. A most disgusting sight, which 
 presented itself to my view as I passed the square Del Spirito 
 Santo, seemed to give me notice that the present day was 
 none of my diesfausti. It was the funeral of a young wo- 
 man, who, to my utter astonishment, was carried on a bier, 
 
 her 
 
352 
 
 licr face and hands exposed, and her hair full dressed and 
 powdered. In fact^ you might have taken her for a per- 
 son asleep, had not the waxen and livid hue of death pro- 
 claimed her slumber to be that of eternity. As I am not now 
 writing a book of travels, I will spare you a side or two of 
 moralizing reflections, which might be made on this singular 
 national custom. That Don Michele, with whom 1 since 
 liad some conversation on the subject, stood up its strenuous 
 champion, you will easily believe ; and, indeed, to some of 
 his arguments I had little else to oppose than my personal 
 repugnance to the indelicacy of the spectacle. 
 
 Leaving the funeral procession and their chaunts, bells, 
 tapers, &c. I proceeded, musing upon what I had seen, 
 down Strada Toledo and Chiaja to the Grotta di Posilipo. 
 Black and dismal as my thoughts, the cavern resounded 
 with the hollow rumblings of a number of carts, and the 
 bawlings of their clownish drivers. To avoid a collision with 
 the wheels in this darkness visible, I inclined my horse to the 
 left. He had carried me twenty times safely through ; but 
 as my (foretold) ill-luck would have it, the noise of the ve- 
 hicles and of their brutish masters frightened the poor animal 
 out of his wits; in his restive capers and endeavours to get 
 out of the way; he drove my thigh so close against the rock 
 at the side, that, on regaining day-light out of this cave of 
 horrors, I found a piece of my pantaloons fairly ground off, 
 and a beginning made to extend the grhiding operation to 
 the substratum of my own skin. 
 
 To have to appear before Donna Giuliana in this novel 
 state of undress, (although I had not long ago met w itli a 
 like misfortune on a similar errand) was a matter of extreme 
 uneasiness, and the silk handkerchief tied round the affected 
 part seemed but a sorry palliative. Trotting on, however, 
 I found myself soon at the gates of Pozzuoli, wlierc, among 
 
 four 
 
3o3 
 
 four or five of the same profession, the cicerone who had 
 attended me the former time, with the officious claim of an 
 old acquaintance tendered his services. I accepted his 
 oft'er, and told him to follow me to Don Giacomo. I sup- 
 pose you know, sir," replied my guide, "" of Donna Giu- 
 liana's being married V' 
 
 There was galvanic power in the last word he uttered ; 
 so forcibly did the shock of the sudden and unexpected in- 
 telligence affect me. To any one but you, my dear T. I 
 would be ashamed to own thus unreservedly what I felt at 
 that moment, and what surely 1 had not the most distant 
 right or pretext to feel. Here's a young woman, beautiful 
 certainly beyond description, but unconnected with my 
 views by any engagements whatever, implied or real; in 
 fact, but for two or three interviews, an absolute stranger to 
 me ; and I, with all the selfishness and spite of human na- 
 ture, would fain have her forego the opportunity of a perma- 
 nent settlement in life, for no solid reason, or rather for no 
 reason at all. What inconsistent, what ridiculous egotism ! 
 
 I had just time, in my way to Don Giacomo, to bring up 
 a reserve of a few of the preceding sober reflections to re- 
 store the balance between reason and passion, and to enable 
 me to enter his presence with decorous composure. The 
 cicerone's information was soon confirmed by the fair Giu- 
 liana's uncle, with the addition of a few particulars not at 
 all calculated to lessen my astonishment or ill humour. The 
 fortunate bridegroom, a clod-hopper at Ischia — past forty — 
 unknown to the model of ideal Grecian beauty till within a 
 fortnight of the wedding — the match brought about by the 
 kmd interference of Father Anselmo, mentioned in one of 
 my former letters, and a variety of minor details which 
 would not interest you. I\Iy visit was short, and any in- 
 vitation to my fete now out of the question ; so bidding Don 
 
 z z Giacomo 
 
354 
 
 Giacomo a hasty adieu, with an appendix to his niece when 
 he should see her, I joined my guide at the gate, and or- 
 dered him to conduct me to the Solfatara. 
 
 In our way up the hill, beliind Pozzuoli, a conversation 
 arose which shewed that the enquiries and pursuits of my 
 cicerone were not solely confined to antiquarian objects : 
 '' Well, signor," exclaimed his Tullyship, '' was I right or 
 not, in what I told you about Donna Giuliana?" — " Qui<^e 
 right, I am sorry to say." — '' Why sorry, sir? Surely it is a 
 good thing she has found a husband ; and he, on his part, 
 may boast of the choice he has made, in regard to beauty at 
 least." On my observing that a person of Donna Giuliana's 
 charms and mental perfections need at no time have been 
 at a loss for a husband, my antiquarian looked at me with 
 a knowing eye, premised my being a galant-iwmo, who 
 would scorn to do him any harm by revealing what he was 
 about to tell me, and lowering his voice into a confidential 
 whisper (although not a soul was to be seen within half a 
 mile around), communicated to me a mass of intelligence so 
 much bordering on the nature of a chronlque scandalense, 
 that I found it necessary to stop his current of abuse by a 
 peremptory order, adding my firm belief that Donna Giuli- 
 ana's extraordinary beauty had roused the evil tongues of 
 her envious enemies. " She is pretty, signor," replied the 
 cicerone ; but we have her betters in beauty in this town of 
 ours, I can assure you, sir; and, if you will give me leave, 
 I shall be p oud to introduce you to one or two that shall 
 soon make you forget Donna Giuliana." 
 
 Vexed w^ith the fellow's slander, I cried out, " Mind your 
 business, Mr. Jack of all trades, and introduce me to the 
 cavern of Brimstone."— ^* Of Brimstone, sir?"—'' The Sol- 
 fatara, booby." — " Why here it is, sir," pointing to a 
 wooden gate before us, placed across a hollow way between 
 two ravines. It 
 
355 
 
 It will not be difficult, I think, to give you a pretty cor- 
 rect idea of the singular appearance of this remarkable na- 
 tural curiosity. A cavern it certainly is not, as I had ima- 
 gined ; on the contrary, represent to yourself a circular hill, 
 with its summit cut off horizontally, or, more mathematical- 
 ly speaking-, a truncated cone, whose upper area might be 
 two hundred yards in diameter. This circular area is what 
 is called the Solfatara. It is, however, not at the top of the 
 hill, but sunk in considerably, and entirely surrounded by 
 an uninterrupted ridge of pretty equal altitude, covered with 
 trees and underwood. From what has been said, you will 
 perhaps of your own accord compare the place to an amphi- 
 theatre, the surrounding ridge to the seats, and the Solfatara, 
 to the arena, or, as it is called at Astley's, the ride; with this 
 modification, that the arena of the Solfatara is considerably 
 above the level of the outward base of the mountain, and 
 tbrms aflat, composed of a soil of a greyish white appear- 
 ance. 
 
 On entering this dismal place, you are struck by the 
 hollow sound of your footsteps; a stone dropped by your 
 guide still more confirms your belief, that you are walkin*^ 
 over an immense cavern, concealed merely by the sheet ot 
 whitish soil under your feet; and, on looking around, you 
 have ocular demonstration that this cavern, far from being a 
 vacuum, is — a gulph of subterraneous fire. A pretty comfort- 
 able promenade, you will say, to ambulate over a burning 
 volcano, with the heat of the ground striking through one's 
 shoe soles, and volumes of smoke, as hot as fire itself, forcing 
 their way through the fissures of the parched earth. This 
 very smoke is brimstone in a gaseous form ; for every thing 
 it touches becomes incrustated with native sulphur. You 
 may suppose the air you respire in the Solfatara to be im- 
 pregnated with any thing but pleasant smells. I think the 
 place nuist be very unhealthy, and the countenances of the 
 
 z z 2 few 
 
356 
 
 few human beings I found at work here confirm this opinion. 
 Their employment is to extract, by boiling, the sulphur, alum, 
 sal-ammoniac, vitriol, and other similar mineral productions 
 with which the earth and the rain water which settles in the 
 cavities and ponds, are here richly impregnated. No fuel is 
 required for this process, for the subterraneous heat is quite 
 sufficient to boil the water in the pans. In fact, all the 
 above-mentioned mineral substances may here be obtained 
 in a variety of w ays. Provided you have a vehicle to col- 
 lect or imbibe the subterraneous exhalations, you are sure 
 of an ample and easy harvest. Tiles and flat stones placed 
 over any of the apertures will, as I have already said, forth- 
 with be incrustated, and the earth itself is employed to im- 
 bibe the impregnated exhalations, being for that purpose 
 diligently dug up, turned repeatedly with iron tools, and 
 afterwards submitted to extraction and purification. 
 
 From the preceding description, you will naturally and 
 justly conclude, that the Solfatara is nothing else but the 
 crater of a former volcano, not extinguished certainly, but 
 reduced to a state of comparative tranquility ; a continual 
 burning, instead of occasional violent eruptions. The time 
 when this mountain ceased to be an active volcano, is be- 
 yond the reach of history. That in the Emperor Nero's 
 reign it appeared much in the same state as we now find it, 
 may be concluded from the following interesting description 
 which the poet Petronius Arbiter has left us of it : 
 
 Est locus, excis'o pcnitus demersus hiatu, 
 Parthenopen inter magnEeque Dicharchidos arva. 
 Cocyta pcrfusus aqua ; nam spirilus extra 
 Qui ferit effusus, funesto spargitur aesfu. 
 Non haec autumno tellus viret, ant alit Iierb.is 
 Cespitelaetus agar : non ferno persona cantu 
 Mollia discordi strepitu virgulta loquuntur : 
 Sed Chao«, et nigro squaleiitia pumice saxa 
 Gaudcnt ferali circum tiimulata cupressu : 
 Has inter sedes diris pater extulit ora 
 Bustorum fiaramis, et cana sparsa favilla. 
 
 Somewhat 
 
357 
 
 Somewhat more than a mile north of the Solfatara, are the 
 Astruni, likewise the remains of an early volcano. But this 
 mountain, unlike the Solfatara, is completely burnt out. Its 
 open crater, a circular plain perhaps three or four miles in cir- 
 cumference, is covered with a beautiful w ood of large and 
 small trees, and contains two or three lakes, or rather ponds. 
 Surrounded on all sides by a continued ridge, you can 
 scarcely imagine a more romantic spot. I have only sur- 
 veyed it from the heigths above ; for, as it is a royal chase, 
 well stocked with deer and other game,, the place is inclos- 
 ed and locked by a gate. 
 
 I took my leave of the Solfatara and the cicerone at the 
 same time. But before I sent the latter back to his home, 
 I obtained from him an exact direction, as I thought, of the 
 way I had to take to arrive at the Lake Agnano, which I 
 intended to take in my road. Ere I had, however, travelled 
 half a mile, I found myself completely desoriente and be- 
 wildered ; and to render my situation ludicrously worse, I 
 had turned my horse into a footpath, between two rocks, the 
 perpendicular sides of which gradually approached each 
 other, till there was actually not room enough either to pro- 
 ceed onward, or even to turn the horse. It was with some 
 difficulty I dismounted, in order to explore on foot whither 
 the path ultimately led. To leave the horse to himself, there 
 was no danger ; for, as he could not turn, he was obliged 
 either to stand still, or to move on after me in the narrow 
 defile. Going forward, I discovered, in various places, na- 
 tive sulphur making its way through the rocks, and tiugeing 
 the stone with a variety of hues, some like cinnabar, others 
 blueish, and others yellow ; and after penetrating for about 
 forty yards, I found the path terminate in a spring, the 
 water of which was strongly impregnated with sulplnn-. In 
 and about Naples, where there are hundreds of mineral 
 springs of every description, this is no great curiosity. I 
 
 was. 
 
358 
 
 was, nevertheless, pleased with the discovery, particularly 
 with the novel sight of seeing brimstone grow, if I may be 
 allowed the expression. Another novelty, for me, was the 
 sight of vast quantities of wild asparagus, which I met with 
 in this excursion, and which is gathered and sold by poor 
 people at Naples. It is not to be compared to our fine En- 
 glish asparagus, and I have seen no other than this wild 
 sort since my stay in Naples. 
 
 The greatest difficulty remaining, was to get the horse 
 out of this defile. As 1 could not drag him out by the tail, 
 I got on and tried to back him ; but he did not understand 
 this manoeuvre, and reared briskly. Dismounting, there- 
 fore, once more, I took hold of the bit, and by gentle treat- 
 ment gradually pushed him backwards, till there was room 
 enough to tack him about. 
 
 When all was right again, I resorted to a remedy for find- 
 ing the true road, which, whenever my way was home- 
 Avards, I had, ere now, more than once successfully put in 
 practice. The horse now became cicerone : left to proceed 
 according to his own instinct, he in less than a quarter of 
 an hour brought me into a lane, from whence I saw Lake 
 Agnano right before me ; here I espied, and soon met a 
 party of foreigners and Italians on hoi-seback, just coming 
 from the lake. In England we should have passed each o- 
 ther sans mot dir^e ; here one of the cavalcade, without ce- 
 remony, addressed me, " If you come to see the Grotta del 
 Cane *, sir, you are just in time; the man that shewed it to 
 us is but a little way behind." I thanked the communica- 
 tive stranger, paced on, and soon found the keeper of that 
 infernal cavern, attended by three dogs, the wretched vic- 
 tims of criminal curiosity. — I'll describe at once. 
 
 This Grotto del Cane is here reckoned a very unaccount- 
 able 
 
 * Dog's Cave. 
 
359 
 
 able sort of a tiling, and seems to have been held in wonder 
 already in Pliny's time. In the 95th chapter of his second 
 book, where he treats of exhalations from the earth, he says 
 — '' Spiritus letales alibi, aut scrobibus emissi, aut ipso loci 
 situ mortiferi ; alibi volucribus tantum, ut Soracte vicino 
 urbi tractu : alibi prater hominem, ceteris animantibus : 
 nonnmiqnam et homini, ut in Sinuessano ag;ro, et Puteola- 
 110 : spiracula vocant, alii Charoneas scrobes, mortifertim 
 spiritum exhalantes*." 
 
 I don't know how it is with you, but to me one of the 
 greatest treats is, to see a natural or artificial curiosity, des- 
 cribed already by a Roman or Grecian writer, and little or 
 nothing altered during the interval of so many centuries. 
 Every thing in this sublunary world is so perishable, or sub- 
 ject to change, that it does one good now and then to see 
 an instance, where nature, and much more where the little 
 reptile, Man, has succeeded in setting the all-destroying 
 grasp of Time at defiance : besides, the thought of this or 
 that great man's having beheld the object before me, just in 
 the same state in which I now find it, converts that object, 
 as it were, into a point of communication, a conductor be- 
 tween me and the person that lived so many ages before. 
 
 But speculations aside, and to our grotto ; the descrip- 
 tion of which you perhaps think I have as great a reluctance 
 to enter upon, as the dogs seemed to feel in approaching 
 the cave itself As soon as the poor devils saw me talk to 
 their barbarous master, they instantly began, almost imper- 
 ceptibly. 
 
 * Deadly vapours in some places issue from apertuies in the earth, while in 
 others they are the effect of peculiar local cauFCs. Some of these prove fatal to 
 birds only, as Soracte in the vicinity of Rome ; others are destructive to every 
 living creature except man; and some, indeed, even to human beings, as is the case 
 la the districts of Sinuessa and Poszuoli. The apertures emitting this pestHential 
 gas are bi) some called the ventilators of the Infernal Regiom. 
 
360 
 
 ccptiblv, to sneak off against the sides of the rock, with 
 their tails hid between their legs ; and when the fellow, with 
 pitiless voice, called them to him, they crept, or rather 
 craNvled towards us in a reluctant curve ( canino id perhaps.) 
 Had 1 not already been predetermined to forego the gratifi- 
 cation of an idle curiosity, I must not have had a heart to 
 be ^our friend, my dear T. to have remained unmoved by 
 the instinctive aniiuish of these miserable animals. Givinir 
 therefore, the master to understand that the dogs would 
 not be wanted, we proceeded to the grotto without them. 
 
 To this little cave, about ten feet long, and six feet in 
 breadtli and heigth, you are admitted by a door which is kept 
 locked. You see nothing that could interest your curiosity ; 
 but a mephitic and pestiferous gas, extending more or less 
 to the height of about a foot, spreads itself along the whole 
 Hoor. Above that altitude the air is harmless, and you re- 
 spire freely ; but below it, any living being breathing the 
 foul air but for the short time of a few minutes, is sure to die 
 under convulsions. The experiment is usually made with 
 dogs ; but one of the Spanish viceroys of Naples, the famous 
 Don Pedro di Toledo, a man to whom the city is indebted 
 for many of its improvements, had the inhuman curiosity to 
 make a trial with two galley-slaves, who both died very 
 soon after being plunged into the deadly atmosphere. 
 If the time of immersion is but short, such as one minute, 
 and the animal is instantly taken to, and thrown into, the wa- 
 ter of the lake (which is but four or five yards oft'), it will re- 
 cover from the fit ; but its health is nevertheless much im- 
 paired by the frequency of similar experiments; and I have 
 been told a dog is seldom able to go through more than 
 twenty repetitions at most. What I am telling you here is all 
 from the reports of others. I was quite satisfied w ith seeing a 
 lighted candle immersed in the gas; it became suddenly ex- 
 tinguished, and, what struck me most, the smoke, instead of 
 
 risi»ii\ 
 
361 
 
 rising, travelled in a horizontal direction, to the entrance of 
 the grotto, where, only, it mingled with, and dispersed into, 
 the atmospheric air. This observation, and the circnmstance 
 of the gas being confined to the bottom of the cave, proves 
 its being nnicli heavier than common air ; and its deadly 
 natnre, like that of fixed air (which produces precisely the 
 same effects), in all pro})ability proceeds from the mineral 
 substances below the surface of the ground, which are, as it 
 were, worked, fermented, and forced upwards by the subter- 
 raneous fires. 
 
 As talking of a fly puts some people in mind of an ele- 
 phant, so the view of this little cave brought to my thouglits 
 the Oracle of Delphos, which had ceased to give answers as 
 early as the time of the first Roman emperors. The cause 
 of this failure, Plutarch, in his Treatise npon Oracles, as- 
 cribes to the gradual wasting of the subterraneous spirit 
 emitted from the cave below the temple : I am, therefore, 
 much inclined to believe that there is so7ne truth in this al- 
 ledged reason, and that the whole of the oracular mystery 
 was not altogether a pious fraud of the Grecian clergy. It 
 is not at all unlikely that the cave into which the Pythian 
 priestess descended, was, like the Grotta del Cane, filled 
 with an air exhaled from under-ground, a vapour of course 
 not so pernicious, but still capable of inebriating the fanatic 
 woman, and of throwing her into a fit of religious frenzy, 
 during which she might, like the magnetized females of re- 
 cent memory, abstract herself from things present, and, un- 
 consciously, give replies relating to futurity, which, directed 
 by the art and foresight of the keen priests, and delivered as 
 they were under proverbial ambiguity, could not fail being 
 frequently confirmed by subsequent events. Instances of 
 
 But here, you will say, I am bewildering myself and you 
 in the Pythian Grotto, before I have led you out of the Grot- 
 
 A A A ta 
 
362 
 
 ta del Cane ; thus bringing; you into new troubles before the 
 old ones are got rid of. You are riglit^ my dear T. and the 
 more so, as the little 1 have to add will certainly not justify 
 beginning a fresh sheet. Once more, my good fellow, you 
 must excuse these sallies now and then ; in a friendly letter 
 it does one good to w rite down at random what comes up- 
 permost : as Pliny the Younger says, aliud est epistolam, 
 aUudhistoriam ; aliud amico, cdiudouniihus scribere. — Come! 
 three Latin quotations in one letter, that is pretty fair I think. 
 
 As soon as the experiment with tlie light was performed, 
 my guide and I bade adieu to the grotto ; and here I was w it- 
 ness of &.nother trait, strongly indicative of brute understand- 
 ing and gratitude. As soon as the three miserable curs saw 
 their master lock the door of the cave, tliey possessed canine 
 loo-ic enouHi to conclude that nothinir more was to be feared 
 with regard to their bearing a part in the exhibition. — They 
 capered about joyfully, rolled their still wet carcases in the 
 grass, jumped up tiieir cruel tyrant's legs, and licked and 
 fondled him in the most expressive manner. Even I, though 
 a perfect stranger to them, shared in the manifestation of 
 their thankful joy. Sterne would have made a famous chap- 
 ter of this ; but your humble servant, quite satisfied with the 
 enjoyment of the scene, untied his horse from the tree, and, 
 without any fin-ther noticeable incident, arrived at his quar- 
 ters in the Infrescata, as reported in his last. 
 
 Ever your's, &c. 
 
 * * * •* J* 
 
 LETTER XIX. 
 
363 
 
 LETTER XIX, 
 
 Dear T- 
 
 TIIE return of the court from Palermo, so long- and so 
 anxiously wished for, and so often falsely reported, is no lon- 
 ger a matter of speculation. It has been officially announ- 
 ced, and the preparations for a suitable reception of the royal 
 fugitives, are already in great forwardness : but I sadly fear 
 I shall not be a w itness of all the fine sights and shows which 
 will be exhibited on the occasion. Naples is already intole- 
 rably hot, and growing worse every day, while I am not get- 
 ting' much better in my health, how^ever good my spirits may 
 be. I have therefore resolved to depart nortliAvard (home- 
 wards, my boy !), as soon as I can find a companion among- 
 the frequent arrivals of officers from Malta, on their way to 
 England. Alone, I cannot venture to traverse Italy and 
 France in my present debilitated state ; but to meet with a 
 sensible and feeling fellow traveller, good natured enough 
 to put up with the society of one whom he may, perhaps, have 
 to nurse, is not an easy matter. One refusal I have already 
 encountered, on mentioning candidly my condition ; and 
 another I have given to a poor fellow more shattered than 
 myself, whom probably I should not have brought beyond 
 the Pontine marshes : not surely from any uncharitable mo- 
 tives ; but what attention could an invalid like me pay to an 
 aguish and ophthalmic chaise companion^ blind of one eye, 
 and of doubtful vision with the other ? 
 
 The universal joy which the news of the king's expected 
 arrival has spread over this city, could not be greater for a 
 
 AAA 2. Titus 
 
364 . 
 
 Titiis, an Antoninus, a Henry quatrc, or a Gcorg-e. The 
 people here are literally mad. This eestacy my cynic land- 
 lord, Avho sees every object through the mediiuii of his dis- 
 coloured and splenetic fancy, malignantly deduces rather 
 from the eagerness of the vulgar for the expected festivities 
 and exhibitions, and their hope for the return of prosperity 
 with that of the court and its numerous attendants, than 
 from any effervescence of loyalty ; a virtue which he prides 
 himself to possess in a pre-eminent degree, and for which^ 
 indeed, according to his relation, he has suffered severe per- 
 secution during the revolutionary epoch of the recent Neapo- 
 litan history. When he speaks of his king, it is invariably by 
 these fond terms, " il noslro ctmaiisshno soviYmo."* This, 
 really sincere, devotion to his king, a few days ago, procured 
 liim a singular office. 
 
 In order to give to this city, beautiful enough in itself, a 
 kind of temporary holiday dress, it is at this moment in the 
 act of being decorated with a number of superb gingerbread 
 structures, wherever there is room for cramming them, all of 
 classic model, you may suppose. — Ampitheatres, temples, 
 triumphal-arches, and colonnades, are springing up like 
 mushrooms. The marble and granite solidity of their an- 
 cestors of the Augustan age — lack a day ! — is aped in canvas 
 and deal boards ! — The superintendance of the erection of 
 one of these doll's houses is said to be a good thing ; and I 
 am assured by Don Michele, that, if every competitor had 
 obtained a slice of the job of canvas-architecture, a very de- 
 cent city might have been run up ; and that, as government 
 could not possibly satisfy all, many of the disappointed can- 
 vas-candidates had gone over to the opposition, (if I may bq 
 allowed to profane this hallowed term by transplanting it to 
 Neapolitan soil j and might, for aught he knows, attempt to 
 make a patriotic bonfire of these combustible monuments of 
 
 modern 
 
 .g^ , m m m, , pi.p.»i,,,,.ii ..IP ^ , . » ■ .1 ■ I ^ y III ■■ .^ ■ ■ ■ ^ .ii ■ il m " ■■ ■" ■ " ^ 
 
 * Our most beloved Sovereign, 
 
365 
 
 modern grandeur, even before they were completed. — ^^'These;. 
 are your Neapolitan patriots/" exclaimed the indignant Don 
 Michele^ " uhose country is in their purse, instead of being 
 in their hearts. You smile, Signor Don Luigi ! Ah ! you, 
 that come from the bosom of a free and great people, are 
 unacquainted with the sordid, the base motives Avhich guide 
 the actions of a majority of our Neapolitans, from the high- 
 est to the lowest. Protection, patronage," — (the ^Yord in- 
 terest is not current in Naples) '' is here the surest road to 
 preferment," &c. 
 
 I'll save you the rest of his eloquent philippic, which, to 
 know the rights of it, equally had its source in disappoint- 
 ment. Poor Don Michele had made great interest for the 
 amphitheatre, which in the full confidence of his loyalty 
 he made sure to obtain, but which fell to the share of a more 
 powerful competitor: thus, not getting the amphitheatre, 
 he w^as obliged to content himself with a triumphal arch. 
 This humbler employ he would disdainfully have refused, 
 had not his better-half (one of those good-natured creatures 
 who know how to accommodate things to circvmistances), 
 by the admixture of two or three apposite proverbial say- 
 ings, proved, to demonstration, the expediency of being con- 
 tented with the lesser boon, if the greater be out of our 
 reach. Although, however, Don Michele, in appearance 
 at least, had so far yielded to his consort's reasonable re- 
 presentations, as to accept of the honour of the triumphal 
 arch, and to put an active hand to the great work, his mind 
 has been any thing but at ease ever since. He is determined to 
 welcome his '^'^am.atissimosovrano" with asiipplica*, setting 
 forth the vile arts practised against one of his majesty's liege 
 subjects; and for this week past there has been more spar- 
 ring between this opposite couple, than during my whole 
 
 previous 
 
 * Petition. 
 
3G6 
 
 previous stay in the house: only a day or two ag-o, Avhcn I 
 asked Donna Luisa, what the noise below was abont, she 
 replied witl\ a sigh, " Cos' altro se non quel maledetto 
 Fiteiiiro* I" 
 
 Yesterday had been agreed upon to accompany Don 
 Michele down to the city to inspect the fruits of his architec- 
 tural g-enius, tog-ether with the other machine, (as he calls 
 these wooden monuments) in different parts of the town. — - 
 While dressing-, I plainly heard under my feet, his stentorial 
 lower notes, in counterpoint with the additional keys of ma- 
 daine, performing' sundry variations, on the eternal Theme 
 of these unfortunate machine ; to put an end to which con- 
 cert, I used greater speed in my toilette. — Just as I entered 
 the room^ Donna Maria thought proper to put forth a sub- 
 missive arg'ument or tw o, in her way, at a time when the 
 kind office of mending a fallen loop in a faithful pair of silk 
 hose of her grim lord (stante pedej, gave her a just hope of 
 obtaining a reciprocally kind ear to her well-meant repre- 
 sentation ; and w hen the aspect of the negative pole of his 
 dread person had lulled her usual fears. Don Michele 
 could not help listening w itli unwonted composure to his 
 wife's rhetoric ; for, with his shin in the lap of Delila(a fac- 
 simile of the monopodic attitude of a crane), his great instinc- 
 tive efforts to reo'ulate the continual fluctuations of his center 
 of gravity, engrossed all his attention f. He seemed fully 
 sensible of the risk of having, by the slightest vibration, his 
 cuticle incorporated with the hosiery weft. His posture 
 might, at that moment, have been fitly compared to an atti- 
 tude of Parisot's, had it been accompanied by any thing like 
 her winning smile. But his bitten lips seemed to tell what, 
 under circumstances of less restraint, he would, and could 
 have said to Donna Maria's arguments. Unfortunately for 
 
 her 
 
 * What else but tliat coufouDded amphitheatre. t See plate 16. 
 
367 
 
 lieij (however generic to the sex) the tlircad of her aren- 
 n^eiit was infinitely Ioniser than that of her silk. She 
 had been prudent, had she cut both siniuhaneously ; bat, 
 in releasing; caro sposo from durance vile, she continued, 
 with much fluency, to doubt whether, after all, there was any 
 o-reat difl'erence betwixt an Arco tromfale (as she pleased to 
 term it) and a Fileatro. — '' As much difference," replied 
 Don Michele, while turning- his terrific visag-e ag-ain for the 
 first time towards her, " as there is betwixt your stupid head 
 and mine — excuse her ignorance, Signor Don Luigi ! — Why, 
 woman ! you might just as well compare yonr tinder-box 
 with the communion-plate in the Duomo *." — Now, for as 
 much as the music of a fair tongue is most seldom senza 
 replica. Donna Maria very properly rejoined, '' Be it so, my 
 dear; but then, if you can't have the communion-plate, 
 why not make yourself happy with the tinderbox ?" 
 
 It was impossible to help smiling- at this ciu-ious compa- 
 rison ; even Don Michele's lips assumed, involuntarily you 
 may suppose, a satyr-like twist ; but, recovering- instantly 
 the grave proportions of his amiable countenance, he begged 
 of me, in miserable French, to check my mirth, otherwise 
 his wife might think she had said a good thing ; and having-, 
 by a gentle rub or two, renovated his fazzoletto f (which, 
 by a short exposure to the rays of the sun, over the sticks of 
 a few fragrant carnation-pots, had been subjected to a pre- 
 vious evaporation of its aqueous particles) ; having- thus 
 renovated, I say, \\\^ fazzoletto into a fitness for the ulterior 
 services of the day> he reported himself ready for the start ; 
 and taking his respectful place on my left, we sallied forth 
 on our way to see this famous triumphal arch. In this our 
 triumphal procession, we passed by the Largo del Spirito 
 Santo, a pretty square, decorated on one side by a hand- 
 some 
 
 * C.iihedral. i Handkerchief. 
 
368 
 
 some stone colonnade, which, on the present ^reat occasion, 
 was probably deemed an insufficient ornament. Some do- 
 zens of busy carpenters, &c. gave a pledge, that whatever 
 was in the power of deal, canvas, ochre, white-lead, and 
 size to achieve, would be done, to create a superb colonnade 
 to last for a day or two. 
 
 Upon my word, dear T. these temporary structures ap- 
 peared to me as so many ominous presages of the brevity of 
 the joy of ... . 
 
 Proceeding down Mont-Ol.ivcto, we reached the SecUle, or 
 Seggio del Porto, the site of Don jNlichcle's triumphal career. 
 I ought to inform you, by the way, that this Sedile del Porto 
 is one of the four or five singular edilices in Naples, the 
 purport of which I had some trouble to find out. The Nea- 
 politan nobility, it appears, is divided into several associa- 
 tions, enjoying particular privileges, and having particular 
 public functions assigned to them. These sedili, or seggi, 
 I am told, are the halls or head -quarters of each association, 
 where, formerly more than now, they had their meetings to 
 deliberate upon matters of their common interest. They are 
 lofty, fanciful structures, open on all sides, and inwardly 
 decorated with innumerable coats of arms of the families 
 belonging to the respective associations. 
 
 Although Don Michele gave himself very great airs of 
 importance with the workmen, I soon found reason to sus- 
 pect, that he was but a secondary person in this great national 
 undertaking ; for an architect was present to direct the ope- 
 ration. My friend probably superintends the financial 
 branch ; at least I saw him pay the workmen. These are 
 mere surmises, for when 1 asked him what the architect had 
 to do with the concern, he replied, in a surly tone, '' What 
 «lse but to execute wi/ design ? And what do you think 
 
 of 
 
369 
 
 of the design. Signer Don Luigi, eh ? — Have you any thing 
 of the kind in England?" — " Not of the same materials, I 
 must own." — " I understand ; but you will allow, if we can 
 do the thing with these materials, we must equally be able 
 to do it in granite or porphyry. The difference lies only in 
 the time and expence. The Neapolitans, trust me, sir, 
 know something about the arts, although they do not make 
 patent snuffers and corkscrews. 
 
 From the triumphal arch, which, even in its unfinished 
 state, exhibited a taste and chastity of conception far above 
 what I knew my friend to possess (and I flatter myself to have 
 .pretty well fathomed his mental power and circumstance)^ 
 our course went to the royal palace, to see the amphitheatre 
 that was building on the square before it. We found it in 
 great forwardness, and I confess I was struck with pleasing 
 surprise at the unexpected sight. Fancy to yourself an ex- 
 act fac-simile of one of the finest Roman amphitheatres, full 
 size, that is, house-high and more, with its numerous arches, 
 rows of seats, vomitories, in short, with every characteristic 
 feature of these extraordinary structures, faithfully and mi- 
 nutely copied and imitated ; and you may form an idea of 
 this wooden amphitheatre. Where it was finished and co- 
 loui"ed, it required a very near approach to discover its ma- 
 terials, so skilfully was the canvas painted in imitation of 
 stone. The deception really could not be greater. We have 
 no idea of a thing of this kind in our northern matter-of-fact 
 latitudes : the Italians are at home in these matters ; they 
 are adepts in the art of perspective, in the just distribution of 
 light and shade, in the knowledge of grandeur of effect, &c. 
 Their pure sky and the sublime monuments around them, 
 afford them facilities in this respect, which are denied to us. 
 I left this sham-theatre with inward approbation, and wil- 
 lingly gave a few carlins to a parcel of workmen, who po- 
 
 c B B litelv 
 
3T0 
 
 litely obstructed our departure^ with a request for something 
 per here alia salute del Re*. 
 
 You may suppose, dear T. that the concentration of the 
 sohir rays^ within the elhptical walls of this wooden amphi- 
 theatre, was productive of a degree of heat by no means con- 
 genial to my delicate frame^ already sufficiently fevered and 
 fatigued by no common exertions of climbing over half- 
 finished rafters and planks. The feelings of my companion 
 were equally visible on his glistening countenance, checker- 
 ed, as it appeared, by numerous lactean rivulets of dissolved 
 powder and pomatum ; his sufferings had silenced his speech, 
 his suUenlips closed motionless, except to give vent at period- 
 ical intervals to puffing breaths of internal vapour, sent forth 
 in exchange for equal draughts of the exterior less heated at- 
 mospheric air. Whenever Don IMicliele is silent for any 
 considerable time, an approaching storm may be looked for 
 with certainty ; to avert the bursting of which, in the present 
 case, I proposed an adjournment to an ice-cellar, which was 
 accepted by a dry " come vuoletef." His speech returning 
 with every sip of the frozen raspberry juice, he commenced 
 his conversation according to the Socratic method of question 
 and answer : — "^ You seemed to be much delighted. Signer 
 Don Luigi, with this said amphitheatre of our's ?" — ''As far 
 as I am able to judge, it appears to me a correct and beau- 
 tiful fac-simile of a real one." — '' How old do you conceive 
 it to be ?" — '' Its age cannot be many days surely, for it is. 
 not above a fortnight since I walked across the square on 
 which it stands, when there appeared no signs of it." — ''And 
 how old, pray, did you say the theatre at Pompeji was^ 
 which we visited some wrecks back ?" — "Between 1 7 and 1800 
 years in round numbers," was my answer, although 1 now 
 
 began to see the drift of my friend's catechisation. 
 
 In 
 
 * To drink the King'e health. + As you please. 
 
371 
 
 In one of my early letters I have made you acquainted 
 with the preposterous opinion Don jNIichele entertains of the 
 origin of the city of Pompeji, ^vllich, in his belief^ is nothing- 
 else but a forgery of modern date, contrived by the govern- 
 ment to attract strangers from all quarters of Europe to the 
 Neapolitan dominions. His arguments in favour of that wild 
 hypothesis I have likewise been at the trouble of putting 
 down for you, as a monument of the extent to which a per- 
 verted mode of reasoning may carry intellectual extrava- 
 gance. Suffice it, therefore, now to say, that the present 
 erection of the temporary amphitheatre, and of the other 
 wooden structures in different parts of the city, was triumph- 
 antly held up as a most convincing proof of the fabrication 
 of the city of Pompeji in a similar manner. With people of 
 Don Michele's stamp it is as impossible to argue a point, as 
 it would be with a downright madman ; so that when I found 
 him utterly callous to common reason, I put an end to the 
 discourse by declaring, that I should once more repair to 
 Pompeji, to examine more minutely into every thing that 
 could throw light on the subject in dispute between us ; till 
 which time I begged my friend to leave the question in its 
 present state of doubtful suspense. To this he reluctantly 
 consented ; and having, by three or four glasses of ditlcrent 
 ices, cooled his spirit of contradiction, and become pleasant, 
 he of his own accord proposed a walk to the mole, which I 
 agreed to, provided on our return he would be my guest at 
 INIadame Gasse's, the French inn, where, in my town visits, 
 I frequently join at the table d'hote. 
 
 On our way thither we had some difficulty in passing- 
 through a crowd of people, who, with great eagerness and 
 with Neapolitan clamour, had assembled round a man, sit- 
 ting with pen and ink before a frail taljle, busily employed 
 in committing to, paper the crude thouglitsof a country clown 
 in the- attitude of dictating to him ; for the iK)is.awastQO loud 
 
 B B B 3 to 
 
372 
 
 to hear what was going forward. A l?oarcl above the head 
 of the engrosser proclaimed his calling. — " Qui sifanno jne- 
 moriali, lettere, ed altre scritture, neV ottimo stilo moderno." 
 (Here are drawn up memorials, letters, and other writitigs, 
 in the best modern style). — Ever eager to seize any oppor- 
 tunity of observing the manners and national character of 
 a people whom I have every reason to think better of than 
 some of our superficial magpie tourists^ I pressed forward to 
 obtain a nearer view of the transactions of this universal se- 
 cretary; when Don Michele, pulling me back by the skirt 
 of my coat, begged I would not demean myself, by thus 
 mixing with the vulgar ; adding, that if 1 had a mind to see 
 one of these public writers, he would conduct me to a friend 
 of his at no great distance, under whose veiy windows the 
 same kind of literary traffic was carried on daily, and from 
 whose balcony I might watch at my ease the operations of 
 the man and his untutored customers. '' You already know, 
 Don Matteo," he added, " for he played the violoncel the 
 other day at your concert and ball^ out of friendship to me." 
 
 This was a welcome offer : thither we shaped our course. 
 On entering the apartment of the first floor, Don Matteo left 
 his score, scraped a number of bows in quick time, with 
 bustling hurry turned a child, two fowls, and a barking dog 
 into the adjoining room (whither his wife followed as soon 
 as she had packed off a litter of old clothes, broken toys, 
 pea-shells, &c. which disfigured the symmetry of the com- 
 poser's abode), and thanked my Jidus Achates in the most 
 hearty manner for procuring him this unmerited honour of 
 the Colonel's visit. " He is not come to see you," replied 
 the uncourteous cynic; " all be wants is to look out at your 
 window, to observe the man below writing his letters." — 
 " If so," rejoined the son of Apollo, " 1 shall for once, 
 have reason to rcrjoice at the neighbourhood of the fellow, 
 whose customers, together with himself, I have often wished 
 
 iu 
 
373 
 
 in the crater of Vesuvius : their bawlhig', till I became used 
 to it^ spoiled many a happy idea before I could bring- it to 
 paper. But never mind, we must all live. Come, Signor 
 Colonello, make yourself quite at home. Here/' openino; 
 the balcony window, '' make your observations setiza sog- 
 gezzione*, whil^ Don Michele and I have a little chat 
 together." 
 
 The composer of letters below was just receiving, from 
 an elderly woman, the sum of six gTani (about three- 
 pence ) for an epistle he had indited to her son at 
 Bari ; after which a farmer, next in rotation, was admitted 
 into presence. His business appeared to be on secret ser- 
 vice ; for the corresponding oracle politely requested some 
 of the more curious auditors to step a little aside. At fii*st, 
 indeed, the farmer's instructions were conveyed in a whis- 
 per; but as a Neapolitan loves dearly to talk as loud as his 
 lungs will let him, and to accompany his sermocinations 
 with the most expressive gestures, it soon became less difficult 
 to discover, that the subject under present consideration 
 was a horse which had been sold to a cavalry- officer, 
 and for which a balance was still owing, the prompt pay- 
 ment whereof was to be peremptorily insisted on by a res- 
 pectful dun. As soon as a period was happily brought to 
 paper, it was read over to the listening clodhopper, who, in 
 a manner, beat time to the emphatic and rhythmical reading 
 of the professor, by periodical nods of the head ; and at the 
 end of the sentence expressed his astonishment at the sagacity 
 w ith which his obscure ideas had been caught up and cla- 
 rified. This literaiy production, owing probably to the im- 
 portance of the subject, was disposed of for the valuable 
 consideration of eight grani (four-pence) paper included j 
 
 and 
 
 * without ceremony. 
 
3?4 
 
 and its possessor^ with inward satisfaction, left the oracular 
 tripod^ in order to make room for a Turkish captain of a 
 polacca,, whose literary necessities consisted in a memorial, 
 claiming' the restitution of some goods illegally seized. In 
 this instance the means of exchanging ideas were not so easy 
 as heretofore ; partly from the Turk's not know ing w ell the 
 language, but in a great measure also for want of the usual 
 appropriate and impressive gesticulations, which, in this 
 country, go half-way towards being understood, and which 
 are foreign to the decorous gravity of a jVIussulmau. How- 
 ever, by means of the Lingua Franca, both parties con- 
 trived to enter into mental communication with tolerable 
 success. This Lingua Franca may justly be called, a non- 
 descript language, at home no where, yet understood all 
 over the Mediterranean. It is a barbarous Italian, in which 
 every inflexion of the verb is expressed in the infinitive, and 
 where the noun invariably appears in the nominative case, 
 not unlike the English spoken by the Negro-slaves in our 
 West-Indian colonies, such as Me not go i/esterdaT/, &€. 
 In the Levant, where it probably originated during the 
 prosperous period of Venetian and Genoese commerce and 
 dominion, this patois is indispensibly necessary, and uni- 
 versally familiar, to all engaged in commercial pursuits. 
 When the document was ready for aignaiuYe, Ibrahim Reis, 
 who could neither read nor write, was desired to make his 
 cross at foot, which he refused with religious abhorrence ; 
 but dipping his little finger into the inkstand, imprinted on 
 the paper a correct fac-simile of the tortuous furrows of his 
 cuticle, by way of signet. To my gi-eat surprize, this state 
 pamper was valued at no more tjban one carlin (5d.) although 
 engrossed on a folio page, and decorated with some fanci- 
 fully flourished initials. 
 
 The Turk had no sooner discharged, hb literary debt. 
 
 than 
 
'than a well-dressed young lass gained his place *. The des- 
 patch, however, which was to be written for her, must have 
 been on secret and confidential service ; for the instructions 
 she gave to the engrosser, were communicated in so low a 
 whisper, that from my observatory the scene appeared one 
 of purely pantomimical action : and even that I v/as pre- 
 vented fi'om enjoying by the interruption of Don Mi- 
 chele and his friend, who began to be impatient of my se- 
 cession from their company. 
 
 When I tell you, dear T. that the time employed by this 
 universal author, in the production of the Farmer's Dun and 
 the Turk's Memorial, did not exceed half an hour, and that 
 the contents, although somewhat fustian, were very much to 
 the purpose, you will agree with me, that Signor Bucatelli 
 possessed talents far above his humble station. Indeed^ 
 Don Matteo assured me, that he was as good a poet as an 
 epistolary writer ; and that his sonnets on any particular oc- 
 casion, such as for a wedding, a birth-day, &c. may be ob- 
 tained on the shortest notice, and at equally reasonable rates; 
 in short, that he could wield his pen on any subject whatso- 
 ever, and had recently written for him a cantata in celebra- 
 tion of the approaching return of the king from Sicily, which 
 he had nearly finished setting to music, and a specimen of 
 which he should by-and-by beg the honour of submitting to 
 my superior taste and judgment. 
 
 To a publisher in England, a man like Signor Bucatelli 
 would be an invaluable treasure, a host within himself, 
 by the versatality of his genius and the dispatch in his li- 
 terary labours : his charges of anthorship, as you have seen, 
 are consonant with the modesty of. true g-enius. His ele- 
 vated way of writing (truly nel' ottimo stilo moderno) would 
 
 soon 
 
 f See plate 17, 
 
3T6 
 
 isoon render him a most popular author with us ; for his 
 periods, by beinj^ skilfully propped with harmonious, un- 
 meaning', yet harmless expletives, possess that elegant melli- 
 fluent roundness of the present day, which charms the mu- 
 sical ear of good taste, without injuring the thinking facul- 
 ties ; and which, like a sauce picquante to unsavory viands, 
 makes ample amends for the dearth or insipidity of the 
 ideas thus dished up with a relishing seasoning. The 
 thought came into my head of treating you with a specimen 
 of his abilities, and I was just going to step down to givehim 
 the substance of a poetical epistle I meant to send you, w hen 
 a little girl brought him a small dish of stewed Windsor 
 beanSj a large raw cucumber and a crust of bread. This 
 fruoal fare, and a glass of iced water from the neighbour- 
 ing stall, well calculated to preserve his intellectual powers 
 unclosTffed, Don Matteo informed me, was the whole of his 
 dinner ; which, together with a segar by way of dessert, in- 
 terrupted his official duties for about half an hour ; after 
 which, ifmattersofpressing service remained to be dispatch- 
 ed, he w ould resume the quill, and suspend his siesta^ or af- 
 ternoon's napj to a late hour of the day. 
 
 I now observed a whispering consultation between Don 
 Matteo and Don Michele, which terminated by the latter 
 communicating to me, in a low voice, an invitation to take 
 pot-luck with the former. Don Matteo could not have 
 chosen a less trustworthy negociator ; for my friend, who is 
 a little of the hon-vivant, after delivering faithfully his- mes- 
 sage, added, in wretched French, that I had better decline 
 the honour, for he was sure I should not be able to drink 
 the composer's wine ; and the peas, to judge from the shells 
 he had observed on the floor, were much fitter to be preserved 
 as seed-corn against next season, than to be brought upon 
 the table. I relieved his uneasiness instantly, by request- 
 ing him to tell Don Matteo, that we were both expected at 
 
 the 
 
377 
 
 tlie hotel of Madame Gasse, on Mont-Oliveto^ where, if he 
 would complete the triumvirate, I should feel myself highly 
 honoured by his company. — " But my cantata, Sig-.Colonel- 
 lo?" — " We shall come back, and have it in the afternoon, if 
 We do not break in upon yourrest." Delighted with this pro- 
 mise, Don Matteo bei^g-ed a quairter of an hour's indulgence, 
 to adjust his dress, and retired to the adjoining- apartment. 
 
 The interval of his absence was filled up by a conversation 
 with Don Michele on the subject of the letter- writer below. 
 He felt surprised at the notice I took of the man's calling, 
 ■asked whether we had no such people in the streets of Lon- 
 don ; and, on my replying in the negative, observed, that, in 
 that case, every body probably wrote his own letters. This 
 I confirmed, under the exception of the very few that might 
 be found ignorant of reading or writing, assuring him, that 
 even in the class of servant-maids, nine out of ten knew e- 
 nough to write a billet-doux to their sweet-hearts. " The case is 
 very different with us," rejoined Don Michele, " for I am very 
 sure, out of the 350,000 inhabitants this city contains, 100,000 
 cannot read, and perhaps as many again, not even sign their 
 name. The greatest part of our women, for instance, and 
 among those many thousands of good education, cannot 
 write : it Would be of no use indeed ; of more harm than 
 good to them, if they could : unless you are prepared to 
 maintain, that the writins: and receivins: those hillets-doitx, 
 as you call them, is an essential part ot" female accomplish- 
 ment." I begged he would not tliink, that billets-doux were 
 the only objects which engaged the pens of the British fair; 
 on the contrary, that we possessed very many women of 
 superior intellectual endowments, to whom we owed, not 
 only a host of novels and romances, but even works on astro- 
 nomy, natural philosophy, botany, granmiar, in short, on 
 every branch of science; and that I was confident, London 
 
 c c c alone 
 
378 
 
 alone coiild muster many thousands of volumes written by 
 the other sex. — '' Gesu Maria !" exclaimed the confounded 
 Neapolitan, with a sigh. — '' Many thousands you say? — To 
 be sure, if tlicy tlo write at all, there can be little doubt but 
 they will write as fast as they talk, and faster too, for there is 
 nobody to contradict them ; and considering, that by this 
 means, perhaps, they talk the less, the men, for aught I 
 know, may be the gainers in the end, unless out of com- 
 plaisance, they are obliged to read what the women scribble. 
 Upon my word, Signor Don Luigi, I do not envy your 
 country this universality of scholarship : let every one be 
 taught accordirjg to the wants of his station in life; let there 
 be a distinction in mental attainments corresponding to the 
 distinction of ranks in society : otherwise, ambition and fear 
 of har4 labour will prompt the dregs of population to be- 
 come gentlemen, and loe shall have to hoe our own fields, 
 sweep om* own rooms, and brush our own boots. — Tell me, 
 pray, what is the good of all this rage for making a nation 
 of scholars?" — " The good, Don Michele? a general diffu- 
 sion of useful knowledge, moral amelioration, liberty of 
 thought, rapid improvement in arts and sciences, nay, in the 
 most common occupations of life. You could scarcely name 
 a thing on which we do not possess publications in England. 
 We have works on cutting out cloth, on making soup, on 
 
 boiling potatoes, on shaving one's beard " — Here Don 
 
 Michele fell into so violent a horse laugh, that Don Matteo 
 burst from the next room in his sliirt-sleeves, accompanied 
 by his lady in a change of dress, to see what was the matter. 
 " Have you ever read a work on shaving one's beard?" asked 
 Don Michele, with affected seriousness. — " Is there such an 
 one ?" — " Not in our stupid Na])les, you may be sure, but in 
 the country of learning and philosophy, in my friend's coun- 
 try" (pointing at me). Don Matteo took Don Michele's irony 
 very seriously, and exclaimed, " Oh che paUse 7iiaravigUoso ! 
 
 siaiiiif 
 
379 
 
 ^amo veramente sclocchi, noi altri NapoUtaiii* ." Don Crab 
 was just beginning to enlarge upon the theme, and to enter 
 into an argument in refutation of the advantages ascribed 
 by me to the general diffiision of knowledge, when a church 
 clock, close by, struck the dinner hour of Madame Gasse's 
 ordinary. This was a melodious sound to his epicurean, 
 and, at this time, exhausted stomach : he himself assisted 
 in putting on the composer's best coat ; who, after giving 
 madame sundry brief instructions in a whisper, left her and 
 the creatura f to enjoy themselves on the vegetable small- 
 shot, and accompanied us to the better fare of French culi- 
 nary perfection. 
 
 My paper, dear T. begins to narrow, it is therefore, with 
 considerable regret, I feel obliged to deprive you of an in- 
 teresting table-talk, which took place during dinner ; other- 
 wise I should not find room for the concert, with which I 
 mean to take leave of you this time. Suffice it, therefore, 
 to say, that Mr. Michael rendered himself conspicuous by his 
 voracious appetite, and ridiculous by his unceasing contra- 
 dictions of stranij-ers less used to his wavs than I am. A 
 French gentleman next to him, before whom he had the 
 presumptuous vanity to make a parade of his miserable 
 French, very politely told him, that, although he himself 
 was very little conversant in the Italian, he should mucli 
 better understand what he meant, if he would have the good- 
 ness to address him in that language ; so that the dialogue 
 was alternately carried on in the two idioms. This was for- 
 tunate for Don Michele ; for a subsequent imprudent and 
 ill-natured remark of his on the levity of mannei's in French 
 women, brought forth a challenge from his neighbour; to 
 which, pretending to have misuuderstood the lattcr's French, 
 
 * " O what a wonderful country ! we are downright fools, wc Neapolitans." 
 t A comraon appellation for children at Napier, 
 
 c c c ^ he. 
 
380 
 
 he, with a bow, replied, '' Troppo onore" (too much honour), 
 Signor mio." Perhaps, too, he meant to imply, that a chal- 
 lenge was too f:^reat a dose of honour for him. Be that as 
 it maV;, the Frenchman was so little satisfied with the replv, 
 that he requested me to tell my friend, he expected an ex-f 
 planation in another place. Through my mediation, how- 
 ever, an apology was obtained, and good-humour restored, 
 to the great satisfaction of Don Matteo, who, next to the 
 other Don, enjoyed his dinner more than any one present; 
 and who, by way of making the greatest possible reparation 
 for his friend's indiscretion, invited the French gentleman, 
 who professed to be a great amateur, to spend the afternoon 
 with us at his house. To g^ive the composer spirits to go 
 through the impending display of his musical talents, I cal- 
 led for a bottle of Lagriina Christi. This produced a smile 
 of satisfaction in the countenance of Don Michele, accompa- 
 nied by a bad pun on the name of the wine compared with 
 the subject of the expected Cantata, the welcome to his So- 
 vereign, which, as he was pleased to observe, must be any 
 thing but lagrbncvole. We did not exceed the second 
 bottle, Don INIatteo protesting, when I proposed a third, that 
 another might put him hors dc eomhat for the rest of the day„ 
 too much rosin being quite as bad as too little. 
 
 Thus well refreshed, I reconducted my guests, together with 
 Monsieur B. to Don Matteo's quarters, where we found tutta 
 lafamiglia, i.e. mother, child, and the fowls, just roused from 
 the arms of Morpheus by the barking salute of the dog\ 
 That the composer would not take the field before he had 
 tuned his old rattling piano-forte, you will imagine of course; 
 the poor crcatura (who certainly interrupted the solemn si- 
 lence, necessary upon an occasion of such nicety, much less 
 than Monsieur B.'s unceasing attentions to madame) par- 
 took of the tuning operation, by means of a paternal appli- 
 cation, which forthwith produced a Jlcbile in chromatic as- 
 cent 
 
381 
 
 cent, followed by a sentence of banishment to the next room. 
 When the instrument was adjusted, Don Matteo proposed 
 treating us with some other composition of his, before he 
 entered upon the execution of the cantata, which, as his chef 
 d'ceuvre, he wished to reserve for the last. He therefore 
 produced an opera of his composition, entitled Guglielmo 
 Tell, which he stated had unfortunately been made just 
 before the breaking out of the French revolution ; and, as it 
 contained many allusions to liberty (a word become odious 
 by that political event), could never be brought upon the 
 stage, although he hoped, now that matters had become a 
 little more settled by a general peace, to bring it out soon, 
 with all the improvements which twelve years delay had im- 
 parted to it. Finding I paid attention to the overture, Don 
 Matteo,as he went on, accompanied every particular passage 
 with critical observations and eulogiums : not unlike the 
 hens, his inmates (as Don Michele sneeringly observed the 
 next day), which first lay their eggs, and then cackle away 
 m praise of their own labour. — " What do you say to this 
 motivo, eh?" — " A little original, don'' t you think?" — "Now 
 onind! I am going into Fa!" — " You don't hear such a 
 transition every day." — "Now the subject inverted!" — " Ob- 
 serve the movement of the bassoons, always in the spirit of 
 the subject." — " A few bars conversation among the wind in* 
 struments." — '* Mark the flutes" (these he whistled). — "Now 
 I am preparing for the return of the original key" (for God's 
 sake, my dear, send that little rascal to the cheesemonger s 
 below.)" — " We are arrived." — " Tutti ! fortissimo ! !" — 
 Now for the winding up : — tromboni — kettle-drums — 7nind 
 the general effect — follow the score, sir — the curtain draws 
 up at this cadence, to begin an Alpine thunder-storm." — 
 " The piccoli have the lightning — nature is in uproar — attac^ 
 ca subito Vintroduzione— chorus of Siciss peasants— -take a 
 part, Signor Don Liiigi.— -Bravo, you sei^e the spirit '* 
 
 I make 
 
382 
 
 f make no doubt the inspired and enthusiastic composcf 
 would thus have continued to the end of his huge volume, 
 had not Don jMichele, whose gaping jaws, like portals, 
 seemed to court the entrance of the poppied divinity, repre- 
 sented the absolute necessity he was under of resorting to 
 his triumphal arch, before the men left off work; and, for 
 that reason, preferred a request that Don Matteo would just 
 o-ive us the cream of the whole , . . '' The whole is cream,'* 
 JFeplied the ruffled bard, '' none of your modern curds and 
 wheys; turn up any one leaf, Signor Don Luigi, quite at 
 Random, and you shall decide. 1 abide by your judgment!..." 
 *' Ah ! you have hit upon a bravura of Gertrude's, the vice- 
 joy's daughter who is in love with Tell. My wife shall sing 
 it ; you will make an allowance, she knew nothing of music 
 %hen I married her," 
 
 Donna Mariana furnished an example of the possibility of 
 becoming harmonious by wedlock. She sung with taste 
 and expression : conscious of the extent of her power, she 
 had the rare judg-ment of not attempting what lay beyond 
 it, and even to simplify passages which exceeded the compass 
 of her voice or abilities. Thus she executed several airs so 
 much to the delight of her lord, that he repeatedly expressed 
 liis approbation by a nodding smile, '' a brava," and a tap 
 on the shoulder, of a much more encouraging kind than the 
 one he had dispensed to his only begotten heir.— -But to do 
 him justice, I must add, that the music was really sweet 
 and interesting. 
 
 The Italians, as by instinct^, possess an intuitive percep- 
 tion of the Beautiful in the fine arts ; hence their superiority 
 in painting, and in sculpture ; and, as to music, in melody 
 unquestionably ; because melody does not depend upon la- 
 borious study, upon calculation, or artful contrivance ; it is, 
 if I may be allowed to say so, the gift of Heaven. You will 
 
 meet 
 
283 
 
 }1^6et Avith hundreds of profoimd contrapuntiists able to set it 
 scientific fugue, or an elaborate canon^ but incapable of put- 
 ting tog-ether eight bars of melody, that will make their way 
 to the heart. In this particidar Handeb Gluck, Haydn, and 
 perhaps even Mozart, those luminaries of sublime harmo- 
 ny, must yield the palm to their inferiors, Cimarosa and 
 Paesiello. 
 
 Some of Don Matteo's melodies approached very nearly 
 to the style of the last-mentioned composer; they exhibited 
 the same unlaboured, natural expression, the same beautiful 
 simplicity which we admire in Paesiello's works. I was not 
 sparing in my praise, sincere as it came; and the delighted 
 author, encouraged by our approbation, proceeded con 
 amore in the rehearsal, till he came to the finale of the first 
 act. '' This," said he, '' is the pride of the whole : but 
 you will hear it to great disadvantage, Signor Don Luigi; 
 it requires six voices in the full parts, and, including- your- 
 self, we can muster but three." — ''I take the fourth," ex- 
 claimed Don Michele,— '" Et moi, je me fais fort du reste,'' 
 added Mons. B. who had for this half hour, by a humming' 
 accompaniment, striven to impress us with an idea of his 
 knowledge of music— -'' Do you sing by notes?"—" Com- 
 7nent, Monsieur? j'al chante cent fois au Concert spiritneli 
 Paris ; en amateur, cela s'e?2fe?if/."— -Overjoyed with the 
 discovery of such a combination of talents, Don Matteo as- 
 signed the parts, and began. At first the performance pro- 
 ceeded very respectably ; but when Don Michele and Mon- 
 sieur B.'s turns came to join the ranks, the Sestetto was 
 completely at '' sixes and sevens." Not exactly that the 
 spiritual pcvfonher was zi'anting in time; on the contrary, 
 he gave it too liberally : the slow progress of the andante 
 probably proved too tedious to his national vivacity ; he 
 went on au pas de charge, yet withal finding suflicient room 
 to interlard his falsetto strains with innumerable decorative 
 
 graces 
 
3^4 
 
 graces and flourishes dans le bon genre.— V>on Micliele, 
 likewise, had a time of liis own ; so there was abundance 
 of time between them of one sort or other. For the tor- 
 tured features of Don Matteo's countenance during this se- 
 vere trial, vide Hogarth's " Enraged Musician." Hitherto, 
 however, his good breeding had prevented any severe token 
 of his just displeasure : but when Monsieur B., ere ice had 
 come to the bottom of the left page, had already run his 
 race through the right, and, with a volti subito, turned the 
 leaf, Don Matteo's cup of patience overflowed at once ; he 
 jumped from his chair, and fan, like a madman, up and 
 down the room.— " Have we made iiny mistake?'' asked 
 the astounded Monsieur B. with a smiling countenance.--- 
 *' Oh ! no, sir, not at all ! It is I that have inade the mis- 
 take, to tnistmy music into such murderous hands. "---Butfor 
 the Frenchman's imperfect knowledge of the Italian, this 
 observation would have produced atiother quarrel. Don Mi- 
 chele, too, fond of a little mischief, was going to act the 
 gratuitous interpreter, when his more immediate attention 
 was engrossed by the arrival of w ine, cakes, and ices. Sus- 
 picious probably of his friend's wine, he applied himself e:^- 
 clusively to the frozen dainties, in the dispatch of which his 
 selfish speed soon rendered all competition impossible. 
 
 After a glass or two of «w/2-muscateI, the composer 
 brought forth his opus mcigiuim, the loyal cantata, the as- 
 pect of which entitled it to the rank of a musical curiosity. 
 However original its intrinsic contents might be, its external 
 appearance was a complete patchwork. Dozens of bits of 
 staves were pasted upon every page : and Don Michele, 
 holding a leaf against the window, obsei'ved, that there 
 ought to be abundance of variety in a composition which 
 so nearly resembled a harlequin's jacket. 
 
 Having requested me to join in the intervening chorus 
 
 parts. 
 
SS5 
 
 parts, and Don Michele, as well as Monsieur B. to abstain 
 from joining- therein, he began the introduction, which, ac- 
 cording' to a running comment of his, was to express the un- 
 dulating motion of the sea, and the gales of a gentle zephyr 
 watting the royal fleet from Palermo towards the Bay of 
 Naples. Madame now commenced a very good recitativo, 
 which was interrupted by the signals of tlie Castle of St. 
 Elmo, in answer to those from the Island of Capri, whence 
 the fleet is supposed to be first espied. All this, and, unfor- 
 tunately, much more, was attempted by picturesque musical 
 translation. — '' A signal- gun from the castle'* — " The hustle 
 of the loyal inhabitants ci^owding to the port." — '' Chorus of 
 Lazzaroni (fall in, Signor Don LuigiJ." — "Aria again." — ' 
 — " The fleet passes the Channel of Capri " — " Ringing of all 
 the church bells in Naples." — '" Procession of the religious 
 orders." — " Aria and chorus." — ''Royal Salute from the 
 
 fleet and castle, on the king's " Here, as ill-luck would 
 
 have it, the musical guns were overcharged ; Don Matteo, 
 not satisfied with the mere employ of his fingers on so loyal 
 an occasion, fired off the four and twenty pounders in the bass 
 icith his elboiv. Crash went five or six wires at once, to the 
 g'reat mortification of the performer and all present, except 
 Don Michele, who jocularly exclaimed, '' Ah ! carissimo,^ 
 your metal is not heavy enough for so powerful a salute." 
 The effect, no doubt, was grand ; but, as in other matters, 
 an eftbrt above our strength, although successful /)ro tempore, 
 incapacitates us for ulterior exertion ; so was there an end 
 in this instance, to all further performance. The composer 
 would fain have put up new strings, but yielded to Don 
 Michele's representation: — '^ Leave off, here," said he, "^'you 
 could not have finished better ; his majesty is on shore, never 
 mind the guns being burst." '' Be it so," replied the good- 
 natured professor, " and let us drink the safe arrival of our 
 beloved Ferdinand." — " E-cviva !" rejoined Don Michele, 
 whose loyalty overcame his peculiar aversion to his friend's 
 
 D D D wine : 
 
386 
 
 wine ; and the rest of the company having joined in the 
 toast, we took our leave of Don Matteo and his spouse. 
 He saw us down stairs, and seizing* a favourable opportunity, 
 whispered to me a promise to treat me with his opera and 
 the cantata in a day or two, w^hen he meant to procure the 
 attendance of a set of professional men, on purpose to give 
 me a more correct idea of the composition^ than what could 
 be formed from the barbarous attempt of my two com- 
 panions. ****** 
 
 Your's, under every zone, 
 « # # « 
 
 Naples, June — , 1S02. 
 
 LETTER XX. 
 
 #loMn, Jupff — , 1802, 
 
 Dear T. 
 
 ALTHOUGH on my way towards you, I cannot re- 
 frain from sending you one more letter. It comes, as you 
 see, from the city of the Ciesars, to close my correspondence 
 in grand style. I arrived here two days ago, but such is the 
 tantalizing uncertainty of my movements, that at this mo- 
 ment I don't know whether I may not have to decamp even 
 to-morrow. To my great surprize and disappointment there 
 were no letters for me at Mr. Sloan^'s. Perhaps to-morrow s 
 post may decide whether my stay in this city will have been 
 merely nominal, or whether it will be my good fortune, as 
 it is my anxious wish, to devote the moderate space of a 
 fortnight to examine superficially only the numberless ob- 
 jects of interest which hitherto have only bewildered my 
 imagination. To make sure of one thing, you will smile 
 
 when I tell you I have kissed the Pope's toe, and But 
 
 more of this by and bye ; I must not tell my story backwards. 
 Let's begin at the right end, and relate how I got to Rome, 
 how I got out of Naples, the dear, dear Naples ! 
 
 The 
 
387 
 
 The fascinating charms of that terrestrial paradise, coup- 
 led with several unsuccessful trials to enlist a fellow-travel- 
 ler, had made me more than once put off the evil day of 
 parting ; in spite of the encreasing heat of the weather, 
 which alone, without the call of duty, would have rendered 
 my departure a matter of urgent necessity. In this situation, 
 the arrival from Malta of another bird of passage bound to 
 England was announced in the person of Captain N. who, 
 besides, was represented to me as possessing every qualifi- 
 cation requisite to make an agreeable fellow traveller, the 
 manners of a gentleman, the instruction of a scholar, and a 
 mind eager for observation and knowledge. This report 1 
 found by no means exaggerated on our first meeting, pur- 
 posely contrived at Mr. W 's, but I learnt at the same 
 
 time, to my great regret, that the Captain had just all but 
 agreed to accompany two French government messengers, 
 who were on the point of returning to Paris. 
 
 Thus again baulked in my expectations! now at once made 
 up my mind to start alone in a day or two, and to trust to the 
 chapter of accidents for finding my way to England as well as 
 I could. The suddenness of this resolve caused great conster- 
 nation in the family;of my excellent host ; Don Michele called 
 up all the powers of his argumentative eloquence, to dissuade 
 me from so '' imprudent" a step. Heat, Mal-aria. Rob- 
 bers and assassins were alternately pourtrayed in colours 
 the most liideous to deter me from venturing upon the pro- 
 jected pilgrimage, and these dangers again were skilfully 
 contrasted with the approaching festivities at the arrival of 
 the court, an unaccomplished intention to visit once more 
 Pompeji, and with every allurement by which the good- 
 natured mortal thought it likely to fetter me for some time 
 longer to the charms of the Campagna felice. All in vain ! 
 I thanked the kind Don Michele for these sincere tokens of 
 his afli3ction, and urging the absolute necessity of my im- 
 
 D D D 2 mediate 
 
S88 
 
 mediate departure^ requested as the last favour at his 
 hands, that he would put me in the way of findinj>; a con- 
 veyance to Rome. — " What," exclaimed he, '' 1 provide 
 the means of rendering us miserable? Nay, Signor Don 
 Luigi, this is too much to ask, though I might, had you no 
 other friends in town, be perhaps prevailed upon to do even 
 thus much, rather than see you fall nto rascally hands. No, 
 no, go to your English acquaintances, 'A'^Vyonv fuori-grotta 
 jockies*, they will not be at a loss to pack you off from us." 
 — With these words, uttered in the tremulous accent of 
 deep emotion, Don Michele left the rooni. 
 
 Strongly moved as I myself felt by this scene, and nearly 
 wavering in my determination, I took the advice of the honest 
 Calabrese in good earnest, and, at the recommendation of a 
 friend in the city, engaged with the master of a single horse 
 chaise to take me to Rome in three easy day'^s-journies, for 
 which, inclusive of the keep of the horse and driver^ 1 agreed 
 in writing to pay twenty-five ducats f. 
 
 The bargain was scarcely struck, when captain N. made 
 his appearance at my quarters to inform me that he had 
 altered his mind, and that, if it could still be done, he 
 would gladly accompany me as far as London, As the cause 
 of this change in his resolution he stated, that on going to 
 his inn the day before, he found his intended fellow-travel- 
 lers, the two French messengei's, tooth-and-nail engaged in 
 a quarrel about some woman, and finally challenging each 
 other to fight. Although the captain's arrival and inter- 
 ference caused a suspension of hostilites, and an apparent 
 reconciliation, he nevertheless wisely considered the proba- 
 bility of similar scenes occurring in the course of their journey, 
 
 between 
 
 * English friends of the author's, wlio occasionally amused thcmiielves iu h.ors'?-r;ife» 
 •n the Sea beach, outside of the Grotta of Posiliyo. 
 
 i IS'ot quite five pounds. 
 
389 
 
 between sparks of such high mettle ; and as he felt no incli- 
 nation again tcintas componere lites, he plainly announced 
 his intention of seceding- from the travellinf^ triumvirate. — 
 This required a new negociation with my knight of the 
 whip;, who, on the plea of the absolute necessity of a second 
 horse, to carry the additional weight of such a man as the 
 captain, demanded an augmentation of fifteen ducats, but 
 finally agreed to take ten. What that second horse turned 
 out to be, you shall hear presently. To lighten the load as 
 much as possible, I reduced my luggage to the size of a very 
 small trunk, and left the remainder to go back to Malta, 
 and from thence by sea to England. 
 
 It was no trifling task to take leave of the numerous friends 
 and acquaintances, English and Italian, from whom I had 
 more or less received civilites and marks of kindness, which 
 will never be obliterated from my memory. But the parting 
 from Don Michele, from his daughter the unassuming the 
 excellent Donna Luisa, from her married sister, and from 
 every branch of this amiable family, produced a scene I never 
 wish to witness again, and led to a discovery I had been dull 
 enough not to have made before. Hysterics . . . but let us 
 drop the subject. I left them with deep regret^ but certainly 
 without reproach. 
 
 On Tuesday last, in the afternoon, we set out on our 
 journey, intending to pass the night at Capua. We had ar- 
 ranged it so that the chaise should call for us at a friends in 
 the city, where we took an early dinner. After much wait- 
 hig, the vehicle arrived at last, but one horse only came with 
 it. This apparent breach of the agreement however, was 
 explained on the part of the master; who, having introduced 
 his man Paolo, as our intended driver, assured us that the 
 other horse was at a stable in the suburbs which we had to 
 pass, and would there be added to our itinerary establish- 
 ment- 
 
390 
 
 mcnt. After we had passed the Largo delle Pigne *, Paolo 
 stopped before a miserable hovel, to fulfil, as he said, his 
 master's engagement. But, to our surprize, he brought out 
 a colt, not full grown, which by way of appendix or rider, 
 he tied to the shafts by a fragment of rope, in so bungling a 
 way, that had even the animal been effective, it could have 
 added but little to the power of draught. Exasperated at 
 being* thus barefacedly duped, we at first refused to submit 
 to the imposition, but the persuasive powers of Paolo, and 
 his ofiers to relinquish all claim on the balance of ac- 
 count to be paid at Rome, if he did not safely and comfort- 
 ably bring us to that city within the time stipulated, induced 
 us to relent. 
 
 We had scarcely proceeded a hundred yards, tolerably 
 ruffled in temper as you may suppose, when a voice from 
 behind called out to stop. It was Don Michcle in full speed. 
 On asking him whether I had forgotten any thing-, he re- 
 plied, almost out of breath : " You have not, Sig-nor Don 
 Luigi, but /very nearly had. — Here'' reaching me a phial 
 with a greenish powder, " here is what will carry you harm- 
 less through the pestilential air of the Pontine marshes. I 
 Was too much agitated to think of it when we parted ; thank 
 God I have caught you in time. As soon as you have pas- 
 sed Fondi, begin holding it to your nose, and keep smelling 
 it till you have got to Veletri ; the danger is over then. 
 Once more adieu. Heaven send you safe and sound to your 
 friends in England, and" .... Here the voice of this honest 
 Neapolitan began to falter, he shook my hand, (that shake 
 spoke the rest) and hurried back. I myself was so com- 
 pletely overpowered, that at this moment I do not recollect 
 whether I was able to thank him ; and even my fellow- 
 traveller, however a stranger to our mutual acquaintance, 
 
 felt 
 
 • Square of pines. 
 
391 
 
 felt deeply aflbcted by this unexpected scene. ---And these, 
 my dear T. are the vite Neapolitans of our travel-writers ! 
 
 After thus leaving Naples, for good at last, we traversed 
 the most luxuriant and fertile country on earth as far as Ca- 
 pua. The road was through one continued garden of vine- 
 yardSj orchards, and well-cultivated fields. Dusk was begin- 
 ning when we reached the latter city, where Paolo was 
 directed to drive to the best inn in the place. If ours loas the 
 best, I can only say that things have woefully changed at 
 Capua since Hannibal's time. It scarcely could have been 
 broth made of stale salt-fish, maccaroni swimming in hot 
 lamp-oil, and soft cheese under a filthy indurated crust, that 
 unnerved and effeminated the conquerors of the Thrasymene 
 and Cannai. Or if these dainties had the effect recorded in 
 history, what shall we think of the luxury of Punic cookery ? 
 they must have lived upon little better than roots and acorns 
 at Carthage itself ; and, in that case, their situation may be 
 supposed to have been precisely that of our Paolo, who, 
 being by favour admitted as a parlour-boarder, devoured 
 with the greatest relish, what our sophisticated palates could 
 not stomach. 
 
 A much more severe trial, however, awaited us in our beds. 
 No sooner had we laid down, than two hostile armies, not of 
 Romansand Carthaginians, but of sharps and flats, contested 
 for the possession of our bodies as wrathfully as those rival 
 nationsfought for the dominion of the world. Driven to medi- 
 tation by the impossibility of sleep, it struck me forcibly, whe- 
 ther, instead of luxury and voluptuousness having operated 
 the enervation of Hannibals soldiers, that result might not 
 rather have been produced by those more humble and home- 
 ly causes, which had precisely the like effect upon the cap- 
 tain and myself. A few such nights, at least, as the one we 
 passed at Capua, would undoubtedly put the most gallant 
 army completely hors de Combat. 
 
 Day- 
 
392 
 
 Daylight, in our situation, Avas doubly welcome ; we rous- 
 ed our knight of the whip from his rest, helped him to put 
 the horse and li^ appendix to the chaise, and started in a hea- 
 venly morning. The preceding epithet was literally appli- 
 cable to our friend Paul ; for altho' he consigned to us the 
 reins of the shaft-horse (the other being a sort of ad libitum 
 accompaniment), he reserved to himself the whip, which, like 
 all Neapolitan drivers, he used sparingly and with the ut- 
 most tenderness, except when defied by the junior branch of 
 the family under his care. The youthful animal, for the first 
 time probably in harness or rather in ropes, every now and 
 then attempted little side trips and aberrations in various di- 
 verging directions, and thus caused more trouble than good. 
 We passed the ruins of Minturnas, where we thought of the 
 Jacobin, Marius ; ferried over the Garigliano, the ancient 
 Liris ; and stopped to dine at Molo di Gaeta, the Formiag of 
 classic and Ciceronian memory. The situation of this place 
 is delightful : in front the sea with a beautiful track of beach ; 
 behind, an amphitheatre of hills studded with gardens almost 
 hidden by the luxuriant foliage of numerous groves of trees ; 
 and to the right, at about two miles distance, the romantic 
 marine rock of Gaeta, with its ramparts and bastions, a se- 
 cond Gibraltar in miniature. While diimer was preparing. 
 we hired a boat to see the ruins of Cicero's villa, and actually 
 beheld from our bark — several massy arches, some strong- 
 walls below and above the water, and a vast deal of classic 
 rubbish. Parched and scorched by a meridian midsummer's 
 sun, we returned from this interesting antiquarian excur- 
 sion and found dinner waiting for us. Every thing at our inn 
 was so good^ clean, and comfortable, that we made ample 
 amends for our Capuan fare : even the wine was palatable, 
 which is saying* a great deal in favour of an Italian inn. 
 
 From Molo di Gaeta we proceeded to Itri, and next to 
 Fondi. This is the last place before you enter the Papal 
 Dominions, and here the country began to wear a dreary 
 
 aspect. 
 
393 
 
 aspect. I did not forget Don Michele's smelling bottle, and 
 gave my companion the full benefit of its antiseptic virtues : 
 even to Paolo, who during the whole journey stood behind 
 upon his legs wielding the whip, I offered a scent, but he po- 
 litely declined it, assuring us that there was no necessity for 
 any such precaution till we came beyond Terracina. 
 
 We arrived by sun-set at Terracina. This is the ancient 
 city of Anxur, famed for its temple of Jupiter Anxurus, its 
 fountain, &c.: the town itself stands on an adjoining rock^ 
 but we stopped at an inn close to the sea-beach and the 
 little harbour. It is only beyond Terracina that the Pon- 
 tine marshes commence ; and as there is danger in passing 
 a night within their extent, travellers usually sleep here, and 
 set out very early the next day, before the heat of the sun 
 aug-ments the noxious exhalations of the marshes. To this 
 observance we likewise conformed, and before sun-ri.se 
 we began the dreaded journey. Through the persevering 
 efforts, however, of the late pope, Pius VI. this journey has 
 become much less dangerous than it formerly was. He 
 spent immense sums in cutting canals to carry ofi'the waters; 
 in building inns externally magnificent, like the Caravanse- 
 rais in Turkey, for the accommodation of travellers; and in 
 restoring the ancient Appian way, which crosses the marshes. 
 This road affords another instance of the solidity of the 
 public works of the Romans. It has stood the test of up- 
 wards of 2000 years. You roll over the self-same stones, 
 which its patriotic founder laid down ; in many places the 
 ancient pavement of great irregular blocks is still entire and 
 uninjured through a considerable extent, and where it had 
 suftered, the beneficent exertions of Pius VI. have lastingly 
 repaired the deficiencies. Resembling a dyke of masonry 
 through an inundated country overgrown with high grass 
 and rushes, it stretches for many miles in one continued 
 straight line. 
 
 E E E As 
 
394 
 
 As far as smell went^ I cannot say that I should in the 
 least have snspected any thing unhealthy in the atmosphere ; 
 and, althougli in the midst of waters, I saw none that ap- 
 peared stag^nant or unsightly ; on the contrary, grass and 
 rushes of the liveliest green grew luxuriantly out of the aqua-' 
 tic soil, and we passed abundance of running streams vigo- 
 rously rushing along or under the road. Whether owing to 
 the peculiarity of the air, or to the increasing power of the 
 sun, I felt excessively drowsy and actually began to nod, 
 when master Paolo, from behind, withoutceremony checked 
 my somnolency by a stout shake of the shoulder, for which 
 he apologized by observing that sleeping, amidst the 
 marshes, was the w orst thing I could do, and sure to bring on 
 a fever. 
 
 We stopped at one of the inns abovementioned, to rest 
 and feed our horses ; but for ourselves no refreshment of any 
 kind was to be procured ; not even our thirst durst we 
 quench with the execrable wine or the brackish water. The 
 countenances of the people of the place sufficiently bespoke 
 the insalubrity of their abode. Wan, languid and emaciated, 
 they looked more like spectres than human beings. No 
 time, therefore, was lost in quitting so unhallowed a spot, 
 and the sight of Veletri, (the ancient Veltrae,) where we ar- 
 rived early in the afternoon, and on whose hill a pure atmo- 
 sphere is again inhaled, cheered all our spirits. Here we 
 had not to complain of our entertainment, judging by the- 
 standard of Italian accommodation. The host was attentive 
 and communicative : he amused us at dinner with a variety 
 of stories apparently very interesting to him ; and, among 
 those, gave a full and particular account of a robbery and 
 murder which to our comfort he assured us had recently been 
 committed between this and Gensano, upon a traveller, who 
 but the day before had slept in the room to be assigned to 
 one of us this night. Paolo, who always was admitted to our 
 
 table 
 
395 
 
 table^ and whose o'ood breedincr alone su«q:ested to him the 
 propriety of rendering" himself admissible to that honour by- 
 copious ablutions, listened with anxious silence to the tale 
 of horror, for as much as he could understand the lan- 
 guage. A native of Apulia, and used to the Neapolitan dia- 
 lect, he found himself in a terra incognita, the nearer we 
 approached to Rome. — In the evening we took a stroll a- 
 bout the town, saw some antique ruins, the modern palace 
 of a Roman prince, deserted and almost in ruins too, and 
 from the elevated church-yard of the place, enjoyed a most 
 exquisite prospect of the countiy, bordered by the distant sea. 
 
 At day-break on the next day, we started for the capital of 
 Christendom, The Neapolitan patois of master Paul became 
 now nearly unintelligible to the people on the road, to whom he 
 had to address any questions ; and it was not a little amusing 
 to hear him swear at them, and reproach them with not 
 knowing the Italian. The captain, to humour the joke, 
 expressed his sui-prize at their stupidity. " Aye," replied 
 Paolo, '' and what is worse, these Roman blockheads think 
 themselves great wiseacres, and us Neapolitans mere boo- 
 bies." — The country about Gensano, Castel Gandolfo, as 
 far as Albano, surpassed in amenity and grandeur the idea 
 I had formed of it from the descriptions T had read and the 
 drawings I had seen. Nature is here exhibited in her ut- 
 most splendour and luxuriance, and the variegated scenery 
 of thisdistrict has proved an inexhaustible mine to the Roman 
 artists, from Claude and Poussin's time to the present day. 
 
 From the hill of Albano, where we passed the rude sepul- 
 chre of theHoratii and Curiatii, we first beheld proud Rome 
 and the whole Campagna di Roma. St. Peter's reared its 
 magnificent dome above the hazy atmosphere, and numerous 
 aqueducts, of endless ranges of arches, converged in all direc- 
 tions towards the former seat of the empire of the world. 
 This famous Campagna di Roma, from Albano to Rome, 
 presents the most sterile and dreary aspect I ever beheld. 
 Scarcely enlivened by vegetation, itlies before you like adesert, 
 
 E E E 2 and 
 
396 
 
 and the gloom it impresses on the traveller's mind is not les- 
 sened by the numerous ancient tombs he meets alono' the road 
 It was near noon v.hen we entered the gate of St. John 
 and passed the church of that name, the Lateran, and the 
 Egyptian obelisk before it. The French inn of Monsieur Da- 
 mon near the Piazza di Spagna had been recommended to 
 us, but we had to enquire for it ourselves ; for Paolo's jargon 
 now had become a dead language. With a transient giimpse 
 of the Colosseum, the column of Trajan, the Capitol, &c. we 
 at last reached our intended quarters, and were received as 
 inmates. jNIonsieur Damon's house deserves to be recom 
 mended to all sober and humble travellers, like ourselves. 
 It is impossible to pay more attention to guests than he does ; 
 his manners are obliiiins;, he does not, like manv of his col- 
 leagues, keep in the back ground and leave his lodgers to 
 the mercy of the waiters : he is constantly about, and ever 
 ready to assist the stranger in any of his wants. His charges 
 too, you will allow to be extremely reasonable, when I in- 
 form you, that for a good bed-room and two good daily meals 
 at the Table d' hote, including as much common table wine 
 as I chuse to drink, I pay a Roman scudo a day*. — Break- 
 fast, as is customary almost all over Italy, you have to find 
 yourself in, from the coftee-house. Monsieur Damon imme- 
 diately procured us a Laquaisde place, who, after exhibiting 
 an arcliive of written testimonials from various Cavalieri and 
 Milord'i Inglesi, entered our temporary service at half a scu- 
 do per diem. This man is an adept in his calling. He knows, 
 full as much of ancient Roman History as you and I do, can 
 tell when a column is out of proportion, when the chiaroscuro 
 is mismanaged, in short he might titly deserve the appella- 
 tion of a walking }iocket-companion, given him by the cap- 
 tain, were it not for his corpulency, which renders pedestrian 
 exercise a toil to him, especially in the heat of the dav, whei^ 
 the Italians are not in the habit of o-oiuo^ out of their houses^ 
 and when, as he jocularly observed to us yesterday, none 
 but dogs and English are seen in the streets. Owing 
 
 « About 4b. ea. 
 
397 
 
 Owing to the number of artists and travellers tliat crowd 
 hither from all parts of Europe, and to the inhabitants de- 
 pending- on them, in a great measure, for their livelihood, 
 strangers enjoy at Rome the greatest possible liberty. The 
 study of every painter and sculptor is open to them, and the 
 artists not only produce their own works with the greatest 
 readiness, but will even take you to their friends to see theirs. 
 This we experienced yesterday ourselves. After paying a 
 visit to Angelica Kauflman we called on a Mr. K. to see some 
 acquarell drawings of exquisite beauty. When he perceived 
 that we enjoyed and discerned the talent and skill displayed 
 in his works, he spontaneously offered to accompany us to 
 Mr. D's, another painter in the same line ,• and immediately 
 went with us through several streets, in his morning dress and 
 slippers ; a costume which in London would have attracted 
 dozens of idle boys, &c. after us, but which was not noticed 
 here, altho' most of the inhabitants of the streets we passed, 
 were following their callings before their houses in the open air. 
 
 From our Consul we receive more than common attention. 
 He has been so obliging as to procure us an audience of the 
 Pope, of which, as I just come from it, I will give you the 
 particulars. Last night we received the intimation that his ho- 
 liness would see us this morning at nine o'clock, and before 
 going to bed I went to my trunk, to get ready every part of 
 my dress for this important occasion. Unfortunate as I am in 
 most things, ill-luck would have it, that my dress small-clothes 
 were missing. In vain did I tumble over and over twice or 
 thrice every individual article of my compendious baggage. 
 The inexpressibles had become inexplorable ; and whether 
 Benedetto, my Neapolitan man, had packed them up for 
 Malta, or packed them off for his own use, remained the only 
 doubtful surmise to be entertained in this vexatious situation. 
 The time was too short to order a new pair: I nmst not only 
 forego the anxiously longed-for gratification of my curiosity, 
 but disappoint the Holy Father, who expected two visitors, 
 and be wanting to the consul who had announced two. In 
 
 ^ this 
 
S9S 
 
 embarrasing predicament^ the captain, who felt for rtiy distress, 
 observed, that if it were not for the disparity of our size, he 
 could perhaps have remedied the evil by a pair of black small 
 clothes, which he happened to have in his portmanteau, and 
 which he had laid by on account of their beins^ too wide. 
 How a pair of hose, too wide for an athletic man near six 
 foot hig-h, would suit your humble servant, you may g-uess 
 pretty correctly when I add, that I am, from illness, about as 
 thin again as when you saw me last. Nevertheless, as there 
 was hardly an alternative, 1 made a trial, and found that by 
 bracing them up to the third rib, I might the more venture in 
 them, as we were to go and come back in a carriage under 
 the guidance of a Mr. L. whom the consuls kindness had 
 prevailed upon to conduct us. 
 
 Mr. L. appeared at the proper time this morning, and we 
 drove to the Pope's palace on Mount Quirinal, big with clas- 
 sic recollections and famed for the statues of Castor and 
 Pollux and their horses, the immortal works of Phidias and 
 Praxiteles. We were ushered into an anti-room full of peo- 
 ple, in which a guard of young Roman nobles, splendidly 
 dressed and armed, bespoke rather the presence of a warlike 
 monarch, than the abode of the peaceable vicar of heaven. 
 Cardinals and courtiers with papers passed to and fro in great 
 bustle of office during- the hour and half that our patience 
 was put to a trial. At last a chamberlain came out to ask Mr. 
 L. whether we were of the catholic persuasion. The object of 
 this question no doubt was to ascertain whether we were to 
 receive the papal benediction and the donative of a rosary, 
 with which his holiness usually presents theorthodoxin faith. 
 Our answer, of course, was in the negative, but as I should 
 have liked the present above all things, I added, that if the 
 wish were not inconsistent, we should feel highly gratified 
 by such a tangible token of the honour to which his holiness 
 was graciously pleased to admit us, and hold the same in 
 everlasting veneration. This observation was answered with 
 a bow, but was soon found to have been of no avail. 
 
 * Shortly 
 
S99 
 
 Shortly afterwards wc were ushered into the holy father's 
 presence. Conformably to the ceremonial we had previous- 
 ly enquired into, we stooped down with one knee, as if to 
 kiss the holy slip))er; but the pope seizing* my hand with 
 his, raised it so quickly that I received a pretty sharp knock 
 on the forehead. — He was plainly dressed in the habit of a 
 white-friar,, with a little black skull-cap on his head, had 
 the appearance of a man of about fifty-four, below the mid- 
 dle size, black hair, pale countenance, but an eye full of 
 expression, and features which indicated benevolence and 
 g'ood-nature. He kept standing- close to us during- the 
 quai-ter of an hour that the audience may have lasted, and 
 was ease and affiibility itself in his conversation. He asked 
 how long we had been at Rome, where we came from, paid 
 a handsome compliment to the valour of the English recently 
 displayed in Egypt, and expressed his regret, that owing to 
 the circumstances of the times, Rome had not yet recovered 
 sufficiently, to prove as attractive to the English as it had 
 formerly been ; adding, " It has suffered grievously, but, 
 like the ants, we must, with the assistance of God, try to re- 
 pair and restore as much as is in our power. On the 
 conversation turning upon English literature, his holi- 
 ness was pleased to signify his admiration of the genius of 
 Milton, whose '' Paradise Lost" he considered as the first 
 epic poem of the moderns, if not of the ancients too, although 
 he regretted he could only enjoy its beauties through the 
 means of a translation. Being on the chapter of English 
 sacred poetry, I thought I might mention Young and his 
 '' Night Thoughts." — " I have read these in part," replied the 
 holy father, '' but they are too sombre, too serious forme." — 
 These were his words, I can assure you ; for they struck me 
 particularly at the time. — Mr. L. our guide, whom we found 
 to be of the profession of the law, now adroitly availed him- 
 self of a moment's pause, to produce some papers containing 
 the case of a widow cruelly situated, as he stated, in conse- 
 
 sequence 
 
400 
 
 qiience of the delays in a law-s>iit which she had to sustain 
 for some years against the relatives of her husband, and to 
 which, bantered as she was from court to court, no termin- 
 ation was to be foreseen. " Your Holiness," continued he. 
 " is not unacquainted with her suit, she is at the brink of 
 ruin, and a word from the holy father would render her jus- 
 tice. Justice is all she claims, she hopes to obtain it at the 
 fountain." '' What," replied the pope, " is this matter not 
 terminated yet? 1 recollect the case perfectly well, and 
 thought it had long been decided upon. I shall settle the 
 business at once," So saying, he took the paper from Mr. L, 
 stepped to a large table, full of papers ; took a pen, wrote 
 two or three words and returned the document to o\u* friend, 
 whose eyes beamed with joy at the good success ofhiserrand. 
 The holy father now bowed to us, and we withdrew, under a 
 ceremonial, similar and similarly treated as at our entrance. 
 When in the carriage we thanked Mr. L. for his kindness, 
 to which he politely observed, that he had much more reason 
 to be beholden to us for the opportunity we had afforded 
 him of accomplishing an act not only meritorious in itself, 
 but very advantageous to him in his professional career. 
 
 With this account of my papal audience, dear T. 1 shall 
 probably take my epistolary leave of you : so much at least 
 you may calculate upon, that if in a week or ten days after 
 the receipt of this letter, you have not another from me, I 
 shall be on my journey homewards, and once more shake 
 hands with you towards the latter end of July. All present 
 omissions shall then be amply supplied by 
 
 Your's, &c. 
 
 * * * 
 
 Di^gens, Printer, St, Ann's Lane, London: 
 
INDEX. 
 
 ACADEMY, Cicero's, near J?oz- 
 
 zuoli, 
 Acheron Lake, described, 40 
 
 Achilles and Chiron, ancient paint- 
 ing of t78 
 Acquaintances, how to make at Na- 
 ples, oo3, 343 
 Actors, at Naples 136 
 Agnano Lake, 357 
 Agrippina, tomb of described 42 
 yljano, the situation of one of the 
 villa's of Tiberius, at Capri 229 
 Albano, hill of, view from it of Rome 
 and theCampagnadi Roma 395 
 Alum, gmned from theSolfatara 356 
 Ammoniac, Sal, gained from the Sol- 
 fatara 356 
 Amusements, at Naples 135 
 Ana Capri, town described 246 — 
 prospect therefrom 247 — account 
 of a family there 248 
 Anna, Donna, met by author in the 
 museum ofPortici 176 — her dress 
 — ib. — her husband described 177 
 — quarrels with the French offi- 
 cer 180 — Author's visit at her 
 house 193 — description of the a- 
 partinent 194 — sleeping tete-a- 
 tete 195 — her complaints of hei 
 husband I97 — adjusts Author's 
 dress 20 1 
 Ansdmo, Father, t^te-a-tStewithGi- 
 
 uliana S4 — shews Author several 
 antiquities riear Pozzuoli 88 — re- 
 lates miraculous anecdote of St. 
 Januarius's nose 91 — attacks Au- 
 thor's faith 93 — brings on Giuli- 
 ana's marriage 353 
 
 [Anxilt, now Terracina, famed for its 
 temple of Jupiter Anxurus 393 
 ^ppian wa;y, I'estored by Piifs VL, 
 crosses the Pontine marshes 393 
 Apragopolis (Idlers Towrt) an island 
 near Caprf 218 
 
 Aqueduct, ancient, of Pozzttoli 97 
 Arabian Manuscript on papyrus 26 
 Ariadne, three ancient paintings of 
 her described I66 to 168 
 
 Atsenak, Grotta deF , at Capri, 230 
 Artists, Roman, their liberal be- 
 haviour to strangers 397 
 Asparagus, grows wild about Naple$ 
 
 3aS 
 ■Istruni, royal Chase, described 357 
 Avernus, Lake, described 3ii 
 
 Augustus, his predilection for Capri, 
 purchases the island 217 — his re- 
 sidence and improvements there 
 218'— his last illness there 219 
 
 B. 
 
 Bacchanalian, a modern one 346 
 
 Baja, port of 41 — temples at 42 — 
 
 tomb of Agrippina 42— Cento Ca- 
 
 merelle 43 — Piscina mirubile 43 
 
 f f f 
 
1 N D E X. 
 
 Balhi, statues of the, found at Her- 
 eiilaneurn, now at Poitici 150 
 
 Balbus, villa of 151 — Library in it 
 
 152 
 
 Ball and Fete given by Author, pre- 
 parations for it ^34 — ineidents 339 
 — music 340 — Don Michele's sur- 
 prise at Author's singing 341 — 
 Donna Carlina's picture, &.c. 341 
 — unasked guests arrive 343 — La- 
 dies attack author's wine-bin 345 
 — Effects 347 — ice-moulds pur- 
 loined 348 
 
 Barbarossa, his name in abhorrence 
 at Capii ^^3 
 
 Barracks, at Pompeji described 103 
 
 Beetles abound at Naples, descrip- 
 tion of them 80 — Don Michele 
 proposes to exorcise them 8 1 
 
 Belvedere, Garden and Palace of, 
 near Naples 25 
 
 Blet/ Keller at Bremen incidentall} 
 described 95 
 
 Blood, liquefaction of that of St. 
 Januarius, vide Januarius. 
 
 Bronze Horses of Herculaneum de- 
 scribed 149 
 
 Burying Ground in Pompeji 124 
 
 C. 
 
 Caligula, his Bridge, at Pozzuoli 
 
 54 
 
 Ca//iope ancient painting of 175 
 
 Camalduli, visit to the convent of 
 75 — its garden described 76- 
 dinner 77 — discussions with father 
 Onofrio on politics 78 
 
 Camerelle, one of the villa's of Ti 
 berius, at Capri 225 
 
 Campagna di Roma, sterile aspect 
 
 of 395 — ^Tombs along the road 
 
 39(> 
 Campagna felice, its beauty between 
 
 Naples and Capua 391 
 
 Campo Pisco, the situation of one of 
 
 the villa's of Tiberius at Capri 229 
 Cane, Grotta del, described 358 — 
 
 sagacity of the dogs 362 
 
 Cantata, composed for the return 
 of the Royal Family 384 — analy- 
 sis of it 385 — miscarriage in the 
 performance of it . 385 
 
 Cape Misenum, described 46 
 
 Capri, voyage to 210 — provisions 
 purloined 212 — arrive at inn 212 
 quails abundant at Capri 213 — 
 manner of catchins: them 214 — 
 dinner 215 — origin of the name 
 of Capri 2l6 — island bought by 
 Augustus 2 1 7 — his residence there 
 218 — Tiberius arrives 219 — anec- 
 dote of him and a Fisherman 220 
 —His villas 221— S\ Maria del 
 Soccorso 222— St. INIichael 223 
 — Matromania 223 — Tregara 225 
 —Camerelle 225— Certosa 228 — 
 Castiglione 228— Mulo 229— A- 
 jano 229 — Campo Episcopo 229 
 —II Palazzo 229— Grotta del x\r- 
 senale 230 — Favourite Snake of 
 Tiberius 231— His Death 231 — 
 Decline of Capri232~Topographi- 
 cal account of the island233 — Car- 
 thusian Convent 234 — Town of 
 Capri 236— Thorold's house 237 
 — Church of St. Costanzo 241 — 
 Mountains 241 — Ascend La Sca- 
 linata 244— Town of Ana Capri 
 24G — Prospect therefrom 247 — 
 Account of a family there 248— 
 
INDEX. 
 
 A love letter C49 — Agriculture antl 
 plants of the island 252 — Trade 
 and manufactures 254. 
 
 Capua, much changed since Han- 
 nibal's time, author's bad fare and 
 nocturnal sufferings there 39 
 
 Castiglione, the situation of one of 
 the villa's of Tiberius at Capri 228 
 
 Castor and Pollux, Statues of, the 
 works of Phidias and Praxiteles 
 
 398 
 
 Centaurs, ancient pictures of 178, 
 
 182 
 
 Cento Camerelle, described 43 
 
 Certoxa, the situation of one of the 
 villa's of Tiberius at Capri 228, 
 
 234 
 
 Chafing-dishes, used at Naples, to 
 warm the rooms 
 
 Championnet General, anecdote of 
 him 257 
 
 Chiara, S". church of, liquefaction 
 of the blood of St. Januarius 262 
 
 Chiron and Achilles, ancient paint- 
 ing of 178 
 
 Ciccrotii, (guides) etymology of 9 
 At Pozzuoli, following more than 
 one trade 354 — One at Rome of 
 superior qualifications 396 
 
 Cicero, his villa at Pozzuoli describ- 
 ed 35 — One at Pompeji 126 — 
 Wine cellar 127 — His villa at 
 Formiae visited 39'- 
 
 Clio, ancient painting of 171 
 
 Cocytus, (Lucrine Lake) 35 
 
 Comic Actors, their excellence in 
 Italy 136 
 
 Composer, visit to a Neapolitan one ; 
 his domestic economy 37'3, dis- 
 plays his talent 381, his opera of 
 
 Guglielmo Tell 381, his sestetto 
 murdered 383, his cantata re- 
 hearsed 384 
 
 Conversazioni, at Naples 143 
 
 Costanzo, St. church of, at Capri 
 
 241 
 
 Cyhele, ruins of her temple at Ca- 
 pri 223 
 
 Cyrillo, the physician, a victim to 
 the Neapolitan revolution 13 
 
 D. 
 
 Dattoli, a shell-fish 143 
 
 Dinner at Don Giacomo's 49 
 
 Dogs, cruelly employed to shew the 
 effects of the Grotta del Cane 359, 
 their sagacity 302, their gratitude 
 on being spared the trial of the 
 Grotta 362 
 
 Don, a common epithet of courtesv 
 at Naples 6 
 
 Don Michelc, see Michele 
 
 Dream, occasioned by reflections on 
 Pompeji 271 
 
 Drivers, Neapolitan, kind to their 
 horses 392 
 
 E. 
 
 Elbeiif, Prince of, his digging a well 
 
 leads to the discovery of Hercu- 
 
 laneum 7 1 
 
 Elmo, St. Castle of described 17 
 
 Erato, ancient painting of 174 
 
 Eunuchs employed in churches 23, 
 
 Author's disgust 23 
 
 Eupator, dream concerning him 27 1 
 
 Euterpe 173 
 
 Faim and Bacchante ancient picture 
 
 f f f 2 
 
I N D E X. 
 
 ©f 184 — reiijarks QU it ]8fi 
 
 JP(f»ia/es,Jjiteiaiy,opinion concerning 
 them IG — Italian^, not overskilled 
 in penmanship or literature 377 
 fig-haves prdered by high authority 
 for naked statues in Farnese col- 
 lection 1 5 
 Fish-ponds of A. Pollio described 27 
 Fondi, the last Neapolitan town on 
 the road to Rome 39-' 
 Formia)ium, Cicero's, visited 39^? 
 Forum, the, of Pqmpeji 106, of Her 
 culaneum 1 50 
 Fyiar>i visit to Author with nosegay 4 
 Funeral ot" a 3'oung vvoman, its pe- 
 ciiliyrity 35 
 
 G. 
 
 Ga'^ta, its fortress, a second Gibral- 
 tar 392 
 Gaming, love of it, in the highei 
 classes at Naples 143 
 GarJgliano, the ancient Liris, a Ne- 
 apolitan river S9C 
 Garlick, general use of, in Italy, 
 especially by sailors 49 — its vir 
 tues professionally recommended 
 
 204 
 Gate of Pom pej i 1 24 
 
 Gensano, beauty of its scenery 395 
 GiuIianaDomw, Introduction tohei 
 47 — her dress 48 — tete a tete witf 
 Father Anselmo 84 — accompanie:- 
 Author to Naples 99 — goes to the 
 opera 100 — is taken ill 101 — re- 
 turns to PozzuolilOl — AuthorV 
 ride thither to invite her to his 
 ball 351 — her unexpected marri- 
 age 353 — discourse thereon with 
 ; the cicerone 354 
 
 Grotta del Cane 3a8, Pliny's men- 
 tion thereof 359, its nature and 
 effects described 36'0 
 
 Grotta di Posifipo described 28, an- 
 tiquity of it 29 — Passage through 
 it with Don M ichele from Pozzuoli 
 57 — Author's accident in it 3o'i 
 
 H. 
 
 ITonvihal, his army, why enervated 
 by their stay at Capua 391 
 
 Hemp, anecdote of the effects of it 1? 
 
 Hdcules, Temple of 150 
 
 Ilcrculanewn, situation of 64 — ex- 
 tent 05 — nine hundred gin shops 
 65 — its destruction 67 — discovery 
 7 1 — officer's description of the ex- 
 cavations 147 — theatre, &c. des-^ 
 cribed 149 
 
 Hippodamia, Eurytus and Theseus, 
 ancient painting of 182 
 
 Horatii and Curiatii, Tomb of 395 
 
 I. 
 
 Ice'Cellars at Naples described 142, 
 anecdote of a sailor 142 
 
 fgnazio, Don, described 177 — Au- 
 thor's visit at his house 193— pre- 
 parations for a dance 206 — at- 
 tempts to conduct author home 
 207— is obliged to desist 208 
 
 Infrescata, Author's quarters there 
 described 2 1 
 
 his. Temple of, at Pompeji 107 
 
 Italians, their instinctive sense of 
 the beautiful in the arts 382, ex- 
 cellence of their musical melodies 
 
 383 
 
 [tri, a town on the road fiom Na- 
 ples to Piome 3^2 
 
INDEX. 
 
 J. 
 
 JanuariuSf St. permanefit stains of 
 blood on the stone on which he 
 was executed 51 — His statue mi- 
 raculously recovers its nose 91 — 
 His body deposited in the Duomo 
 at Naples 256 — His blood, preser- 
 ved in two vials, is occasionally 
 made to liquefy by the priests 257, 
 General Championnet vainly at- 
 tempts to force a liquefaction of 
 it 237 — The time required to ren- 
 der the blood fluid is considered a 
 sure omen of the situation of thv 
 country 2j8 — Religious ceremony 
 of the liquefaction, witnessed by 
 Author Q6S — Distress of the con- 
 gregation at the slowness of the 
 liquefaction 2()J 
 
 Jupiter, Anxurus, his temple at 
 Anxur ^'93 
 
 K. 
 
 Kitchens, at Naples, curioup but con- 
 venient construction of spme 34/^ 
 
 L. 
 
 Lagrima-Christi, a Neapolitan wint 
 of excellent quality 132, 380 
 
 lakes, described, Lucrine 35 — Aver- 
 nus 3(1 — ^Mare-morto 46-^Ache- 
 ron 46— Agnano S57 
 
 Lampreijs, fed with human carcase;^ 
 by Asinius Poljio 27 
 
 Laquais de place, a Roman one, his 
 superior qualifications ^nd pbser- 
 vations on the Enghsh 39() 
 
 Latin Verse, fac-simile of oiie, as 
 
 . written by the Romans l62 — re- 
 marks on it 163 
 
 Lava, used in pavjng the streets of 
 Pompeji ] 10 
 
 Lazzaroni 3 — Author's method of 
 getting rid of their importunities 4 
 
 Letter-writers in the streets of Na- 
 ples ;j7 I — Account of the occupa- 
 tions of one 373 to 375 — Univer- 
 sality of his talent 376 
 
 Library, an ancient Roman one, 
 discovered at Herculaneuin J 52 
 
 Liquefaction of the blood of St. Ja- 
 nuarius, vide Januarius 
 
 Liris, hod. Qarigluino, a Neapolitan 
 river 392 
 
 Love Letter written by Author at 
 Ana Capri £49 — one indited by a 
 INeapolJtan street writer 375 
 
 Luela 6". in agreable quarter of Na- 
 ples 143 
 
 Lucrine, lake, described 35, its oy- 
 sters celebrated 35 
 M. 
 
 Maccaroni Manufiictory described 
 129 — ^method of preparing them 
 129^iints on the expediency of 
 their being introduced into the 
 British Navy 131 
 
 Machine for unrolling Papyri des- 
 cribed 160 
 
 Machine, temporary structures so cal- 
 led, erected for the embellishment 
 of Naples against the arrival of 
 the royal family 366~their beauty 
 
 a69 
 Manuscripts, ancient ones on Papy- 
 rus, see Papyri, 
 Mare Morto described 46 
 
 Maria, S". del Soccorso, the situa- 
 tion of one of the villas of Tiberius 
 at Capri 222, 234 
 
INDEX. 
 
 Marius, brought to Author's recol- 
 lection by the ruins of Minturnae 
 
 592 
 
 Malromania, the situation of one of 
 the villa's of Tiberius at Capri 223 
 
 Melpomene, ancient painting of, de- 
 scribed 172 
 
 Mercatn del Sabato. 46 
 
 Michael, St. the situation of one of 
 the villa's of Tiberius at Capri 223 
 
 Michele, Don, his character22 — Im- 
 posing appearance on his setting 
 on t for Pozzuoli 32— Mounts the ass 
 39 — His strange opinion on the 
 Pompcjan ruins 60 — Becomes dis- 
 agreeable there 123 — Turns his 
 dress in the storm between Pom 
 peji and Resina 129 — Attempts to 
 ascend a man of war on his way 
 to Capri 210 — Loses his hat 211 — 
 — His faux pas at Capri while ar- 
 guing on the accounts given of 
 Tiberius 227 — His remarks on 
 Mr.Thorold's mansion 237 — Calls 
 Author a heretic at Ana Capri 25 1 
 — Censures Author for readins: a 
 letter in the street 320 — Disap- 
 proves sending children to sea 322 
 —Gets up the frigate's sides 323 
 — Is introduced to the ship's sur- 
 geon 324 — His remarks on a 
 drawing of Pompeji 325 — Shot at 
 with pease after dinner 328 — His 
 opinion on bagpipes 330 — Pre- 
 pares and directs the Author's 
 ball 334 — His ecstasy on hearing 
 Author sing 341 — Dances a mi- 
 nuet 346— Is honoured by a tri 
 umphal arch instead of an am- 
 phitheatre 365— Departs with Au 
 
 thor to view the arch 366 — As- 
 sisted in his toilette by his wife 366 
 — His arguments in favour of the 
 Author's postponing his departure 
 from Naples 387 — His last and 
 affecting interview with the Au- 
 thor on the road 390 
 
 Milton, his Paradise Lost, admired 
 by the Pope 399 
 
 Minerva, statue of, the excavation 
 of it leads to the first discovery of 
 Pompeji 73 
 
 Minotaur, how represented in an 
 ancient painting I69 
 
 MiiitnriKV, ruins of, passed by the 
 Author 392 
 
 Misenum, Cape, described 42 
 
 Molo di Ga'eta, the ancient Formiee, 
 its beautiful situation described ; 
 Cicero's villa there visited by the 
 Author 393 
 
 Momhelli, a celebrated singer at 
 Naples 19 
 
 Mom aeriiis, epithet given by Virgil 
 to Cape M isenum, why 46 
 
 Monte niiovo, described 35 
 
 Morning, a Neapolitan one describ- 
 ed 350 
 
 Muff eta, (bad air) at Pompeji 126 
 
 Mulo, the situation of one of the 
 villas of Tiberius at Capri 229 
 
 Mummies, natural ones produced by 
 exsiccation 96 
 
 Murat, account of his visit to Na- 
 ples 155 
 
 Muses, account of ancient paintings 
 of them at Portici 171 
 
 Museum at Portici 166 — Paintings : 
 three Ariadne's I66 — Theseus and 
 Minotaur 1 69— Phoebus 170 — 
 
INDEX. 
 
 jMuses 171 — Author meets there 
 Donna Anna and French officers 
 17C> — Donna Anna's dress describ- 
 ed 176 — Ancient painting of Cen 
 taur teaching Achilles 178 — Don- 
 na Anna quarrels with the French 
 officers 180 — Ancient painting of 
 Centaur and Hippodamia 182 — 
 Ancient painting of a Faun and 
 Bacchante 184 — Remarks on it 
 18j — Departure from Museum 
 with Donna Anna, See. 188 
 
 Music, no want of, at Naples 23 
 N. 
 
 Naples, view of, on entering the bay 2 
 — Pompous Titles in favor with 
 the inhabitants 6 — Spring at Na- 
 ples, compared with that season in 
 England 6 — Cicerone 9 — Opera 1 b 
 - — Music 23 — Beetles infest the 
 houses 80 — unsinccre offer of pre 
 sents 97 — Theatres 136 — Actort, 
 136 — convenience of the pit in the 
 theatres 137 — Tuilleries 139 — Ice- 
 cellars 142 — Conversazione 143 — 
 Funeral of a young woman 35 1 — 
 A:uthor's preparations for leaving 
 thecity387— findsatravellingcom- 
 panion 388 — parting scenes 389 
 
 $[erOj his cruelty and the ingenuity 
 exercised in murdering his mother 
 Agrippina 4 i 
 
 Nicoletta, Donna, her drawings and 
 literary accomplishments 14 — Au- 
 thor's aversion to learned females 
 
 IG 
 
 Nonius Maximus, obnoxious to the 
 Roman soldiers ; his effigy drawn 
 by them in the barracks at Pom 
 peji 104 
 
 O. 
 
 Oil- Shop at Pom peji described 50 
 Opera of Saul described 18 
 
 Oracles, fraudulent in the temple of 
 Isis at Pompeji 107 — oracular 
 inspirations supposed to have been 
 partly produced by subterraneous 
 vapours 36 1 
 
 P. 
 
 Paintings at Pompeji, manner of 
 sawing them off the walls 111 — 
 Medium used for lavinff on the. 
 colours 114 — pigments employed 
 1 1 5 — humorous nature of some 
 
 designs 
 
 117 
 
 Palazzo, a term used at Naples for 
 all houses with a gateway 14 — 11 
 Palazzo, one of the villa's of Tibe- 
 rius at Capri 229 
 Popa/ dominions, entrance into, 392 
 Papyri. Method of making papy- 
 rus 25 — Authors attempts 25 — ex- 
 periments to unroll the ancient 
 Papyri 158 — Machinery described 
 159 — process I60 — Fac-simile of 
 a latin verse from an unrolled MS. 
 162 — -Mr. Hayter's progress in un- 
 rolling the Herculaneam Papyri 
 
 1(J4 
 Parthenope, founder of Naples 20 
 Paul, St. his stay at Pozzuoli 89 
 Pease, green, in season all the year 
 at Naples 50 
 
 Perspective, whether known to an- 
 cients 118 
 Petronius Arbiter, his description 
 of the Solfatara 2,56 
 P/ia;6MS, ancient painting of, 170 
 Piatti di rinfresco, what they are 49 
 
IKDEX. 
 
 Piscina Mirabile, atccount of it 43 
 l*its of the NeaiK>litan theatres, their 
 convenience l.'>7 
 
 Piits VI: his eflbrts to reiulei' the 
 Pontine marshes less unheahhv 
 . 39:5 — restores the Appian way 39.T 
 PUrtify his mention of the Grotta 
 del Cane o5[) 
 
 Politeness, curious excess of, in a 
 NeapoUtan custom 98 
 
 Pol/io, A, his lish ponds *£! 
 
 Polyhymnia, ancient painting of, 17'2 
 Pompejan Dream 0^7 1 
 
 Pomprji, present state of, 59 — Ro- 
 mans went on tick 5^) — Don Mi- 
 chele's strange opinion of its ruins 
 60 — situation of it 66 — destruc 
 tion 67 — different accounts from 
 ancient writers 6"7 — discovery of il 
 73— Barracks 103— Sketch of N 
 Maximus 104 — Reflections there- 
 on lOo-T-Tiieatres IO6 — Temple 
 of Isis 107 — Great amphitheatre 
 108 — Roads and private houses 
 110^- small dimensions af the 
 houses 110 — Paintings sawed oft 
 111 — Remarks 1 13 — Curious 
 . figure in the High -street 120 
 Town gate 124— Burying ground 
 small, 124 — Cicero's villa 126— 
 Wine cellar visited 127 — abniptly 
 quitted in consequence of a rum- 
 bling noise 128 
 Pontine marshes, danger of sleeping 
 in them 393 — rendered more heal 
 thy by Pius VI. 393 — their aspect 
 
 papal audience. >97 — embarrassing 
 situation previous thereto 397 — 
 remedy39S — Account of the audi- 
 ence 399 — His holinessV predilec- 
 tion for Milton's Paradise Losit399 
 -^His opinion of Young's Night 
 Thoughts 399'^^His immediate 
 deciswn in a case submitted to him 
 by the author's conductor 400 
 Portiei, village of, situated above 
 Herculaneum 64 — Roy^"- palace 
 150 — Royal museum of the anti- 
 quities found at Herculaneum and 
 Pompeji 156 
 
 Posilipo, situation and amenity of, 
 24 — Romans had many villa's 
 there 24 — Grotla di Posilipo 29 
 Post Office at Naples 320 — does not 
 . deliver letters 32 1 
 
 Pozznoli, Journey to 32 — Don Mi- 
 chele's dress 32^reeeption there 
 33^— V'illa of Cicero Zo — Boat pro- 
 vided by Don Giacomo 47 — ^^Din- 
 ner 49 — good quality' of Pozzuoli 
 wine 50 — Temple of Scrapis 5S — 
 Caligula's bridge 54 — ^retm'n to 
 Naples 56 — second journey 83 — 
 Donna Giuliana diticovered in a 
 tete a tete w^ith Father Anselmo 
 84 — Presents offered to her 86— 
 derivation of " P0Z2suoli " from 
 *'Puteoli" (Wells) 86— ancient im- 
 portance of Pozzuoli 87 — ancient 
 painting of a view of that town 87 
 Saracen epitaphs 88 — Temple of 
 Jupiter now forms the cathedral 
 
 not disagreable 394' — unhealthyl 88 — Temple of Diana 89— Tem- 
 
 • appearance of the people at an pie of Neptune 89 — Coliseum yO 
 
 inn in the mai-shes 394 Chapel of St. Januarius91 — "ose 
 
 •jPo/?c, Author's preparations for the of a statue of his, miraculously re- 
 
INDEX. 
 
 covered 91 — ^Authors return to 
 Pozzuoli 97 — Ruins of its princi- 
 pal aqueduct 97 
 
 Presents, insincerity in offering and 
 refusing them at Naples 97 — 
 Anecdote relating thereto OS 
 
 PulcinellOf theatre of, at Naples ] 39 
 
 Q. 
 
 Quails abound at Capri 213 — man 
 ner of catching them 214 — anec 
 dote of their appearance among 
 the Turkish fleet 214 
 
 Quirinal, mount, the residence of 
 the Pope 398 
 
 R. 
 
 Raveoli, an Italian dish, how pre- 
 pared 49 
 
 Red Necks, admired by ancients 149 
 
 Re sitia, air']\a\ at, 131 — Dinner 132 
 — Songs after dinner 132 
 
 Reticulated masonry in ancient build- 
 ings 26 
 
 Rome, arrival in, 386 — first view of 
 it from mount Albano 39-5 — sur- 
 rounding country to the south 
 bears a dreary aspect 395 — strik 
 ing appearance of its aqueducts 39-3 
 — Mr. Damon's hotel near the Pi- 
 azza di Spagna recommended 396 
 — Liberty enjoyed by strangers 
 there 397 — Liberal behaviour of 
 artists towards strangers 397 
 
 Rosaries, given by the Pope to catho- 
 lic visitors 398 
 
 Royal Family of Naples, their re- 
 turn from Sicily expected SQ'S — 
 joy of the inhabitants 364 — pre- 
 parations for festivities 364 
 S. 
 
 Sacred Drama's at Naples 1 8 
 
 g"g§ 
 
 Sai)its, skeletons of, putting on their 
 own clothes 94 
 
 Saltarella, a Neapolitan dance 206 
 Saracen Epitaphs, at Pozzuoli 88 
 Saul, Opera of, described 18 
 
 Scalinata, La, at Capri ascended 244 
 Scene-painting, excellent in Italy 
 
 138 
 
 Scylla and Chary bdis described 1 — - 
 Naval captain's contempt of their 
 danger i 
 
 Sedile del Porto, described 368 — in- 
 tent of these structures at Naples 
 explained 368 
 
 Seneca, his description of the Grotta 
 di Posilipo 29 — His mention of 
 the destruction of Pompeji 67 
 
 Serapis, Temple of, at Pozzuoli, des- 
 cribed 52 
 
 Sestetto, unsuccessful performance 
 of one 383 
 
 Ship of war, visit on board of one 
 323 — Don Michele's remarks on 
 the surgeon's drawings 325 — Din- 
 ner 327 — Fight between two cabin 
 boys 329 — Bag-pipes 330— Songs 
 after dinner 332 
 
 Sinecures, their antiquity 12 
 
 Solfatura, description of, 355 — its 
 productions 35Q 
 
 Spacca-Napoli, the longest street in 
 Naples 262 
 
 Spintria's at Capri 225 
 
 Spring at Naples, snow in April 6 
 
 Stabicd, present state of, 66 — its dis- 
 covery 74 
 
 St. Januarius, see Januarius 
 
 Sconn on the road between Pompeji 
 and Resina 129 
 
 Straits of Scylla and Charybdis des- 
 cribed I 
 
INDEX. 
 
 StromhoU, appearance of that vol- 
 cano ~ 
 Sulphur, how obtained from the Sol- 
 fatara Soo, 35(3 — Native sulphur 
 
 357 
 Sybil, Cave of, described 37— Opi- 
 nion thereon 38 
 T. 
 Telehoi, Colony of, at Capri 2l6 
 Tell, (Guglielmo) an opera of that 
 name rehearsed 381 
 Temples, of Venus, Diana, and Mer- 
 cury, at Baja; 42 — of Serapis, at 
 Pozzuoli 52 — of Jupiter, at Poz 
 zuoli 88 — of Diana and Neptune, 
 at Pozzuoli 89 — of Isis, at Pom- 
 peji 107 — of Hercules, at Hercu- 
 laneum 150 
 Terpsichore, ancient painting of her 
 
 174 
 Terracina, the ancient Anxur, usu- 
 ally slept at by travellers going 
 from Naples to Rome 393 
 
 Thalia, ancient painting of her 172 
 Theatres, at Pompeji, viz. the co- 
 vered one 106 — thegreatone 108 — 
 at Naples described 13G— Theatre 
 of Herculaneum described 149 
 Thefts, petty, not uncommon in Ita- 
 ly, even among the higher classes 
 348 — Maltese anecdote 349 
 
 Theseus, ancient painting of him 1(J9 
 Thorold, Mr. his house at Capri 237 
 Tiberius, his arrival at Capri 219 — 
 Anecdote of him and a fisherman 
 220— His villa's atCapri 221 — His 
 favorite snake 231 —His death 231 
 Tomb of Virgil, see Virgil 
 Toro ivrrMcse, where now placed 140 
 Tres;ara, the situation of one of the 
 
 its harbour 230 
 
 Tritoli, Baths of, described 40 
 
 Tuillerics described 139 — A favorite 
 
 promenade of the Neapolitan 
 
 Beau-monde 141 — Toro Farnese 
 
 placed there 140 
 
 Tunuy-Jish 49 
 
 Turks, their substitute for a cross by 
 
 way of signature 374 
 
 vilhus of Tiberius at Capri 225—! Pope's opinion thereon 
 
 U. V. 
 
 Feletri, the ancient Veltrae, a town 
 on the road from Naples to Rome 
 
 394 
 
 Fesuvius, eruption of 1767 describ- 
 ed 265 
 
 flew of Naples on entering the bay 
 
 3 
 
 Filla of Cicero, at Pozzuoli 35 — of 
 the same at Pompeji 126 — of the 
 same at Formiae 392 — of Balbus, 
 at Herculaneum 151 
 
 [ irgil's Tomb described 10 — His 
 epitaph 11 
 
 Fisii of a Friar with a present of a 
 nosegay 4 
 
 Vitriol, how gained from the Solfa- 
 tara 356 
 
 Uomero, an eminence behind Naples 
 
 24 
 
 Urania, ancient painting of her 175 
 
 W. 
 
 Af7>/g,of Pozzuoli,presented to author 
 bv Don Giacomo 82 — Made free 
 with by the ladies at the ball 346 
 — remains of, found at Pompeji 
 
 127 
 Y. 
 Young, his " Night Thoughts" the 
 
 399 
 
Jrrangement of Plates for JSTaples and (he 
 C.jMP.JGj\'A Felice^ lo the Binder, 
 
 PLATE 1 and '1 facing each other, to precede Title Page 
 Map of the Country, Islands, ^'c. in the Viciintij of Naples to face 1 
 
 Don Luigi's Baggage seized hy four Lazzaroni 4 
 
 Plan of the Barracks, Theatres, S^c. of Pompeji 103 
 
 View of the Temple of Isis, in Pompeji 107 
 
 View of the Gate, and High Street of Pompeji 1C4 
 
 Ancient Greek Paintings from Herculaneum l66 
 
 DonLuigi, S^c. in the Museum • ^76 
 
 Ancient Greek Paintings (Centaurs, ^c.) 178 
 
 Sleeping tete-d-tcte at a first Visit of Don Luigi 195 
 
 Map of the Island of Capri 215 
 
 Don Michele getting up the Ship's Side 323 
 
 Don Luigi's Ball 343 
 
 A Bacchanalian Scene at Don Luigi's Ball 346 
 
 A View near Naples 350 
 
 Don Michele preparing for his Triumphal Expedition SQQ 
 
 The Letter Writer 375 
 
a5^^-^n 
 
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