No. 5.

I MUST carry you once more through the grotto, to see the environs of Pozzuoli, abounding with various interesting objects. It is necessary to leave the carriage at Pozzuoli, and take a mule or a boat, according to the object you have in view.

Pozzuoli is a small town, about five miles from Naples; it is at present a place of little consequence, though the ruins of its ancient edifices attest its former importance. As the works of nature demand precedence of those of art, I shall give you some account of the valley of Solfaterra, situated about a mile from the town. After ascending gradually the greater part of a mile, the road descended a little and entered the valley. This is an ancient volcanick crater, about half a mile in circumference. The bottom is composed principally of sulphur in a crude state. If you take up a stone and let it fall upon the ground,the hollow sound which is returned is a proof of the cavity beneath, and makes you tremble at your situation. It is surrounded by rugged rocks, except at the entrance, which exhibit the action of fire to which they have been exposed, and in many different places the smoke is seen climbing up their Vol. III. No. 5. 2E

summits. At the extremity of the valley a building is erected for making allum; and the boilers are heated by the natural fire of the place. The hot vapour and steam here issue through the crevices with violence and noise. To one unused to these scenes these workmen did not appear in a safe ́ situation; but habit subdues fear, and the workmen have no more idea of danger than if they were working at a common fire. I saw many beautiful specimens of native sulphur, and many christalizations of sulphur and nitre; but they are so liable to be destroyed by the moisture that I did not think it worth while to bring them away.

In the neighbourhood of Pozzuoli are the ruins of an ancient amphitheatre of great extent. Two stories of it yet remain. In a garden in the town, an ancient temple was discovered a few years since, beneath the surface of the earth. Excavations were made by order of the court, and the temple was cleared of the dirt and rubbish in which it was buried; all the moveable objects were transported to the museum at Portici. The antiquarians have decided that it was dedicated to Jupiter Serapis. The external walls were square, and

against them are a number of small chambers, twelve or fifteen feet square, destined to the priests. The altar in the centre was encircled with superb granite columns, the greater part of which are thrown down. The temple was formerly filled with water to the height of seven or eight feet, and the lower part of these columns present the same appearance as a piece of wood which has been, in the sailor's phrase, honey-combed. The worms have bored tholes in the granite four or five inches in depth, some of them big enough to insert a finger. When it is considered that granite is one of the hardest species of stones, these holes must certainly be esteemed a singular curiosity.

After seeing the ruins about Pozzuoli, I took a boat to cross over to the coast of Baix. Some ruined piers which project into the harbour, are vulgarly called the Bridge of Caligula, but are supposed to be the ruins of the ancient mole. I landed near Monte Nuovo, which is on the edge of the water between Pozzuoli and Baiæ. This mountain is about a mile in circumference, and two hundred feet perpendicular. It rose up on the night of the 29th of September, 1538, after a succession of earthquakes. It buried a village and separated the lake of Avernus. Its surface is barren, producing only a few shrubs, and coarse grass. Behind the Monte Nuovo is the Lake Avernus immortalized in the sixth book of the Eneid. The gloomy wood that formerly surrounded it, that pestilential air, which was fatal to the birds who flew over it, no longer exist, exexcept in the description of the poet.

I cannot give you a better account of it than in the words of manuscript,before quoted :..." The lake of Avernus is an object inter

esting to the naturalist, the poet,and the historian. It is the crater of a volcano, filled with water, which was sounded by admiral Mann and found to be 600 feet in depth. Aristotle calls it one of the prodigies of this kind that existed on the earth. The ancient Grecians made it their hell, imagined it to be surrounded with four rivers, and gave them names of rivers in their own country. The Romans, with Virgil at their head, followed the same idea. They called the Lucrine Lake, Cocytus; the Lake of Fusaro, Acheron; the baths of Nero, or rather the subterranean source of them, was Phegethon; and lastly, the waters in the obscure chambers at the bottom of the lake of Avernus, commonly called the Grotto of the Sybil, were the Styx. What Homer says of the Cimmerian regions, in the travels of Ulysses, relates according to Dacier and the other criticks to the environs of Avernus. Strabo had anciently the same opinion. In the obscure, gloomy wood, that formerly surrounded this place, Eneas gathered the golden branch that procured him admittance into the infernal regions." In the neighbourhood are a great many ruins, among which are those of Cumæ.

At some distance from the Monte Nuovo, towards Baiæ, are the baths of Nero. The beach is here interrupted by some rocks and ruined walls which project into the sea. Among these the steam and vapour is continually issuing from the boiling pool below, which is at the extremity of a dark, narrow, winding cave. To descend to this boiling water, requires a violent effort; it is necessary to strip to the skin, and even then possess considerable resolution to penetrate in the dark, almost stifled with the heat and

steam. A fellow is always ready with a bucket, in which he puts two or three eggs, and going into the cave, dips it into the pool below, and by the time he returns into the open air, the eggs are sufficiently boiled. I eat an egg cooked in the water from this natural cauldron; the man who went down appeared to be much exhaust ed by the exertion. I entered the cave a little way to experience the effect. At first I could walk upright, without any inconvenience from the vapour which passed over my head. After three or four yards, it was necessary to stoop a little; and in progressing farther I went upon my hands and knees, till the vapour growing hotter and hotter, I was glad to turn round and escape into the open air. This boiling water is not confined to a small spot; even on the beach, under the rocks for several yards, if you scrape away the sand a few inches on the very edge of the water of the bay, the hole is filled with boiling water. Near these rocks there is a bathing room with an arched ceiling, on which some of the stucco is still remaining. This is said to have been part of the palace of Nero, and was probably supplied from the boiling source just described.

I now returned to the boat, and and being rowed a short distance, was landed at Baia. Ancient Baiæ is now covered with the sea, the highest parts of a few buildings only remain. Three of these are very remarkable, and are called Tempio di Venere, Tempio di Mercurio, Tempio di Minerva; but these names are given without foundation, and the antiquarians suppose them to have been anciently Thermæ. The Temple of Mercury is circular, and lighted by an opening from the top; the earth now rises

to within a few feet of the cornice. A very strong reverberation is produced, by striking the ground with a stick, and a whisper against the wall is distinctly heard on the other side. The little ruin called the Tempio di Venere is the most beautiful I have ever seen. It is of an octagon form, overgrown with ivy, and is extremely picturesque. These and some other shapeless ruins are all that remain of ancient Baix. This beautiful coast has experienced the most extraordinary changes from the violent earthquakes,with which it has been, ravaged. Under the wall of a large castle, in a very commanding situa tion, are placed a few habitations, the inhabitants of which cultivate the vineyards situated among the ruins, and this is all the population of modern Baix. What a reverse ! Even in the most luxurious days of ancient Rome, this place became a proverb from the sensuality and debauchery of its inhabitants, the beauty of the climate, and those fascinating shores, once the theme of the poets and the resort of the dissipated. The corruption of Baie was a theme of perpetual satire with the moralists, among whom Martial says that the most virtuous matron in Rome would be converted into a perfect Messalina in this dangerous residence. Seneca asserts that it could not be the residence of any person possessed of any principle of virtue, and Cicero was reproached for having a villa in this neighbourhood.

No longer the haunt of pleasure and dissipation, the coast of Baie is strewed with ruins; earthquakes have destroyed its temples and palaces, but the delicious climate still remains, and the landscape is still beautiful and picturesque.

Again embarking I left Baix and landed on the other side of the

Castle. At every step some ruin is to be seen; one is pointed out, as being the tomb of Agrippina, murdered by her infamous son: but there is no authority for this supposition. A little farther on are the cente camerelle, or the prisons of Nero. These are narrow subterranean galleries, which are thought to have supported some terrace. There is nothing in their construction to justify the idea of their having been prisons.

After gaining the summit of the hill, the guide conducted me into the pisciene mirabile. This is a vast reservoir, under ground, about seventy feet in depth; the roof is supported by square pillars cover ed with stucco, which are as entire as if they had been just constructed. This immense reservoir was for merly filled with water, though for what particular purpose is not known. It is generally supposed to have been for the Roman fleet, stationed at Misenum. The water has encrusted these columns with a substance of excessive hardness; it is half an inch in thickness, and is capable of receiving the most beautiful polish. It is manufactured into various little ornaments.

From this hill is seen the pro

montory of Misenum, the Mare Monte, and the Elysian Fields, in which are the ruins of ancient tombs. This view,which the pencil alone can give any idea of, does not need the additional interest, which their classick names excite, to chain the admiring stranger to its beauties. The most interesting classick recollections here unite with the fantastick, the wonderful, and beautiful appearances of nature to excite alternately the most delightful sensations, or plunge the mind into the most pleasing reveries. Every foot of these places is classick ground, and, before viewing them, looking into some of the Roman poets, adds vivacity to the sensations they excite; above all, every one ought to read the sixth book of the Æneid before he makes this excursion.

The pleasure of the traveller, in viewing these scenes, is interrupted and partly destroyed by the number of beggars, which surround him. The number of poverettos and miserabiles who are haunting your steps seem like the ghosts of the ancient inhabitants, and society appeared to me to be more ruined than the buildings.

ON our arrival at the frontiers of the Italian Republick, at Scari-calasini, situated on the summit of the Appenines, we began to be tormented by customhouse-off cers. In the Roman and Tuscan territories little ceremony had been made respecting our passes and trunks, but in the Republick we were treated with such suspi

cious severity, that, in spite of all the inconveniences to which we were subjected by this conduct, it frequently appeared perfectly ludicrous. I had a parcel of books in my trunk, and had not the least idea that they could give any umbrage; but they caused us a thousand vexations, which continued from the moment we entered the

Republick till we reached the foot of the Splügen, where its jurisdiction terminates. When the books were discovered, I was told that my trunk must be sealed up till we arrived at Bologna, because the strictest orders had been issued to suffer no books to enter the territories of the State, without the precaution of sending them sealed to Bologna, where they would be returned to me after they had been revised. When I expressed my surprize to the customhouse-officer, and added, that I should have expected such a proceeding in the Papal dominions, but not in the Italian Republick, he replied very frankly, "Yes, it should be so; but at present we are more afraid of books than of the Pope." At Bologna, notwithstanding all my remonstrances, my books were declared to be merchandize, and in that city, as well as at Parma and Milan, I was obliged to pay duty for them as such. During all this time I was never master of my trunks, for in all the towns through which we passed, they were detained at the custom house. In this blessed republick all the regulations relative to travellers are calculated only to harass and extort money. In the Parmesan, which is now a French province, we experienced the same vexatious treatment as to our trunks, passes, &c.

Our residence at Bologna was so short, that I could only visit the Gallery of Sampieri, where many old impressions were renewed. In this city Italian literature still maintains the preponderance, and I found only two booksellers who sold French works. At Modena, Parma, and Milan, the trade in French books, and probably the study of French literature, is at least on a par with the Italian. At

Bologna I met with a few more books in the Bolognese dialect, for my collection of the various dialects of Italy.

At Modena there are few works of art worthy of notice, since the ducal collection has been removed from the palace. At the library, which is admirably arranged, and is particularly copious in historical works, I spoke with the Padres Pozzetti and Scotti, who jointly perform the office of librarian, which was before held by Tiraboschi, and his predecessor, Muratori, alone. The manuscripts occupy a spacious apartment. mong other curiosities I saw a beautiful copy of Provençal Poems, containing pieces by 143 different poets. At a bookseller's in this place I found two new works, which

me.

A

considerably interested

Upon

One of these was an Italian Translation of Kotzebue's Misanthropy and Repentance, and the other an Exposition and Examination of Kant's Philosophy, by Francesco Soave. Out of curiosity I bought the latter, a pamphlet of only 108 pages, fifty-. two of which are occupied with the Exposition, and the remainder with the Examination. closer inspection I found that what the author calls his Exposition, is nothing more than a scanty extract from that of Villars. In his Dedication to the Vice-President Melzi, he says, that he undertook this examination of a System, which is beginning to extend itself in Italy, only with a view to warn and caution youth against studying it; for, says he, in another place, it has been forbidden even in Germany by several Govern, ments, and has been ill-received by almost all. After this it may easily be conceived how his examination and refutation are con