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becomes too bad for driving, and we began a long walk towards Baja. Turning to the left, we approached its ruins, and were soon on the sea-shore. All that we had heard of the climate and bay of Baja fell short of the truth. The sea was falling with the gentlest murmur on the shore, scarcely to be called breaking;-the air, although we were in the month of February, breathed all the balmy softness of spring;-the Capo Coroglio, Pozzuoli, Monte Nuovo, on one boundary; and the Capo Miseno, with the rocks of Baja, and the noble Ischia and Procida, rising above, on the other, were reposing in all the beautiful tints of an Italian sunset. We stood gazing with silent admiration, and could not suspect that the summer gales of such a region bring disease and death; yet one learns the truth on turning to its ruins. Its shores are deserted-its lakes are stagnant-its baths are horrid pools: the vestiges of the dwelling of Cæsar, of Piso, and of Pompey, are merely guessed at. The poets would search in vain for those delicious meadows, and springs, and fruits, which made it in their days so delightful a retreat. Of all that we saw, we could only give the brief description, "These are walls"—no remains of beauty to shew that once they were the abodes of the luxurious and the vain.

To distinguish the piles of brick, they have been named "Il Tempio di Venere, di Mercurio, e di Lucifera." Of the Tempio di Venere, three rooms called baths, and a rotunda, alone remain. The Tempio di Mercurio is beneath a hill; its dome is complete, and has an effect like that of St. Paul's-if you whisper on one side, the sound is given with a very loud increase on the opposite side; but in the centre, not the slightest sound is audible.

Il Tempio di Diana Lucifera has a circular base. The

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GROTTO OF POSILIPO.

upper part is a hexagon. Round it are a variety of arches and foundations, in which a few almost naked, wretchedlooking human beings find shelter at night. The most deplorable want is evident in all the Neapolitan villages, or rather "ruins:" honesty cannot be expected from men so desperately poor, who have no law of God or man written on their hearts. Their countenances betrayed the most reckless wickedness; still we suffered no inconvenience. A friend of ours was not so fortunate; he had his pocket picked by an infant, as he stood for a moment looking at a ruin. Our Italian servant, and the little urchin we brought from the caves of Avernus, kept a sharp look out; and, indeed, it would have been difficult for the natives to escape the observation of the latter, who had an eye like the gazelle.

It is customary to take a boat at Baja, to embark for Cape Misenum, the sepulchre of Agrippina, the Piscina Mirabile, the Cento Camerelle, and the Elysian fields. It was, indeed, tantalizing to be so near, and yet to turn away from those soft meadows; but hope whispered that we should yet gather the flowers of spring in those regions of poesy; and we hastened back to pass the grotto of Posilipo, ere the last ray of light should be gone.

As we approached it, we could not but admire its arch, graced by such luxuriant pendant foliage; then there was hurried motion in the horses-a vague and yellow light— then darkness and yells: presently a gentle snowy landscape forward through the lofty arch; and then in a moment we were restored to the glare of day, enlivening the green fringes of the jutting rocks; and as we quitted their overhanging beauties, a bier, bearing a dead body, slowly advancing to its place of rest (the Chiesa di Santa

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Maria di Piedi grotta), continued the tale which the ruins of Baja had read to our hearts. The body was exposed; the bier covered with a scarlet pall, worked in flowers with gold: on the top of the canopy was a very large crown of natural flowers.

It was preceded by the crucifix, and a long train of priests, chaunting the service of the dead: then followed Sacconi, glaring from their eye-holes, and giving to their torches a slow and solemn motion. We passed from this slow chaunt to the loud din of the Mergellina and its ragged fishermen, with their red Phrygian caps and savage games.

At the doors and windows (I should rather say lightholes, for there is no glass) of their dwellings, were their wives and children, busy with their distaffs, or full of riot and wantonness.

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