usually consist of but one story, and rarely contain more than three or four rooms. The houses in that division of the City which terminates at the Street of Tombs, are of a much more splendid description. The wealthiest of the eitizens seem to have resided here. Each mansion encloses an open square court, with a marble bath or fountain in the centre: the pavement either marble or mosaic, surrounded by a colonnade, into which the doors open. The outer walls of the houses are generally painted red but those of the interior are much more varied in their decoration. Small pictures representing all manner of subjects, ornament the centre of the apartments; surrounded by little borders, imitative sculpture, tiny columns, and other devices of the same description, all in fresco. In the immediate vicinity of the mansion of Sallust, the shops and taverns are situated. They bear a striking resemblance to Italian shops of the present day, being entirely open in front, with the exception of a low wall which forms a window-sill. Upon the white marble of some of these shop-counters, circular stains may be distinctly perceived, as if a cup or glass had here been carelessly set down; and in others large broken jars of terra cotta were found, filled with oil in a jellied state. The serpents painted on the walls of many of these houses and shops, have been sometimes said to designate the medical profession of the occupiers; but better authorities. assure us they denote the protection these reptiles were superstitiously supposed to afford to their health.

As you leave the excavations and stand upon the elevated soil, heaped above the buried part of the City of Pompeii, the view is perfectly enchanting. Before you in the distance sweeps the spacious Bay, rocking gently in

the light of an Italian sky, as it were azure and gold, woven together and spread like a thin luminous gauze over the trembling waves, which bathe the green margin of the wooded hill. Yonder is the City of Naples, with its castles and palaces; and far out, at the entrance of the Bay, the lofty promontories Sorrento and Misenum beyond which we can descry Ischia and Procida. There, for several miles runs the fine range of wooded heights, terminating in the rocky bluff of Pozzuoli, and the low winding shores of Baia, intermingled with green fields, olive groves and vineyards. Here and there on the flashing waters, white sails are glancing in the sunlight, or diminishing to specks in the hazy distance-forming altogether a scene of unrivalled interest and magnificence, justifying those lines of Byron :

CHAPTER II.

EXCURSION TO POZZUOLI AND BAIA.

The Grotto of Posilipo- Pozzuoli

-The Temple of Serapis - The

Amphitheatre -The Solfatara-Cicero's Villa-Lake Avernus Misenum - The Tomb of Virgil.

NAPLES had not fairly roused itself into its wonted restlessness and activity, when on a bright spring morning we started for an excursion to the classic shores of Baia. We rattled over the Chiaja, and by the Villa Reale, until we came to where the mountain of Posilipo once shut up the way between Naples and Pozzuoli, but which the ancients with an engineering skill, that makes the modern stare, have tunneled and bored through, forming the celebrated Grotto of Posilipo. Divers are the opinions of the learned, touching the time and beginning of this great work. It was attributed by the vulgar in ancient times, to magical arts, and the credit of the enterprise they bestowed on no less a necromancer than Virgil, whose bones are reported to rest on the hill above. But the enterprize and wealth of that ancient Sybarite, Lucullus, no doubt excavated Posilipo for the convenience of his villa. For that magnificent Roman, who carved statues out of mountains, opened gulfs of the sea to give water to his fishponds, and ransacked continents to supply a single dish for his table, would not have hesitated long about such a work as this. The singular and wonderful passage is cut through the mountain, a little over half a mile in length. It is everywhere broad enough to permit two carriages to

pass. The road through it is paved with flat flags of lava, and lies on a considerable ascent from east to west. A small apartment is cut into the rock about the centre of the passage; and a little chapel, also hewn in the rock, stands near the entrance from Naples. Immediately over this is located the tomb of Virgil: and above the grotto is a vineyard. The height of this grotto is very unequal, being low in the centre, and lofty at the extremities. Daylight is always perceptible at each end, and two openings are pierced in a slanting direction towards the sides of the hill, and three lamps hang about the middle of the roof, to assist in clearing up the darkness and obscurity that even at mid-day envelop the grotto. But with all these contrivances it is still a gloomy and disagreeable, though extraordinary passage. On emerging from its gloomy shades, we gratefully acknowledged the exhilarating influences of the sun, sky and air, and more ardently admired the rich green of the vineyards on the shore, and the sparkling waves of the Mediterranean fashing back the sunlight. After leaving the grotto, and passing through the groves which border it at this outlet, the road descends to the beach, and continues to traverse its windings, until it reaches Pozzuoli, commanding a view of the distant Cape of Sorrento, and the craggy summit of Caprea to the left; with the bold promontory of Posilipo in the foreground. Within a short distance of the shore is to be seen the fortress of the Lazaretto, built on a small insulated rock a little beyond is the small island of Nicida-the favorite retreat of Brutus, rising steep and verdant from the waves. And there stretching away to the right, is the irregular shore of the Bay skirted by its fertile headlands crowned with aloes and prickly pear, backed by the bright

yellow and white hillocks that encompass the sulphurous Solfatara; while ravishing glimpses are now and then caught of the more distant romantic promontory of Baia, . proudly elevating its castellated cliff, with the lofty rugged peak of Ischia rising behind: and the bright deep blue expanse of waters in front, sparkling in the sunshine.

Pozzuoli, perched on a hill in the midst of the shore, is now a mean and contemptible village enough: but it once boasted of magnificence and splendor, which the sea, wars, and earthquakes have continued to mar, until it has become the miserable spot one now sees it. And there extending far into the sea, may yet be discerned the moles of the old Port-thirteen immense piles, which spring out of the water, like square towers. When the ancient bridge existed here, it extended itself into the sea, until it reached the shore on the opposite side. Pozzuoli was an ancient Grecian Colony. It passed into the power of the Romans in the war with Hannibal; when its government and liberty were taken from it, and a Prefect annually sent from the Roman people to govern it. It then became a favorite summer resort of the more wealthy of the Romans, who frequented it on account of its salubrity and location. Murray says, "on entering Pozzuoli, the traveler will be beset with ciceroni, and by pretended dealers in antiquities" — and certainly on our entrance we were surrounded by a cloud of witnesses, in attestation of the truth of this remark. Ancient lamps from Cumae-coins with Caligula's image and superscription upon themlachrymal vessels from some ancient tomb, and any quantity of smaller memorials of a race long since gone, were thrust at us with fierce gesticulations, and earnest commentaries upon their genuineness. Pozzuoli has become a