dent to make the journey by daylight for two reasons: First, the fear of brigands at night, and secondly, the danger from obstructions by stones falling from the mountains.

It was, however, quite dark before we reached Castellamare, where we stopped over night.

The next morning opened finely, and our coachmen having served us reasonably and very satisfactorily the day before, we made another bargain with them to carry us to Naples by the way of Pompeii, stipulating for a stop of four hours at the latter place, four miles from our starting point. We were soon set down at the Hôtel Diomède, a mean public house, which we should advise all travelers to shun, although our guide-book speaks of it as the best in the place. It is situated near the office where we obtained tickets and a guide to see the silent city. And now we were guided from street to street and from house to house, walking over three hours; but this was time sufficient to explore only comparatively a small portion of the ruins. Pompeii, when destroyed, was a town of from twenty to thirty thousand inhabitants. In the year 63 it was visited by a destructive earthquake, and in 79 it was overwhelmed by the eruption of Vesuvius. More than half the city yet remains to be excavated. The streets are paved and in good condition, save that in some places there are ruts six or eight inches deep, worn by the wheels of carriages; and the sidewalks are also generally well paved. In some of the streets the carriage-way is considerably below the level of the sidewalks, and at the crossings are high stepping-stones for foot passengers. Many of the shorter streets are only wide enough for one carriage, and there must

have been a regulation requiring approach by carriage always from one and the same direction to avoid meeting. The walls of few of the buildings are standing above the first story, and these are generally either of brick or of small stones and cement. Many of the houses have staircases, showing that they were of more than one story; but as the upper portions have disappeared, it is supposed they were chiefly of wood and were consumed by the red-hot scoria of the eruption. The shops are generally distinguishable from the common dwellings and palaces; and many of the shops as well as the palaces bear over their doors the names of their former occupants. In some of the shops the marble counters are still standing, and in one of them we saw large earthen vessels, used for the sale of oil or wine. In a bakery the large oven, in which a batch of bread was found baked to charcoal, still remains intact, and near it are mills for grinding corn. The Basilica and Forum was an immense edifice, the surrounding pillars of which, mostly destroyed nearly to their base, witness its former magnificence. Many of the pillars of the House of Ariadne, the House of the Tragic Poet, the House of Sallust, the House of the Faun, the Temple of Pompeii, the Cascerne, and of other large structures remain standing at full length, but are more or less defaced by the heat of the scoriæ and the ravages of time. With sensations impossible to describe, we walked over and through these ruined Temples, the House of Lucretius, the Temple of Mercurio, the Temple of Augustus, the Temple of Jupiter, the House of Pansa, and along the street of the Tombs into the Villa of Diomedes. Many of the tombs and monuments are in a perfect state

of preservation. The Villa of Diomedes is one of the most extensive private residences yet discovered, and according to our recollection one of the best preserved.

"Near the garden gate of this Villa were found the skeletons of the owner and his attendant, one holding in his hand the keys of the Villa, the other carrying a purse which contained one hundred gold and silver coins of Nero, Vitellius, Vespasian, and Titus." At the southeast extremity of the town and detached from the other ruins is the Amphitheater, said to have been capable of accommodating twenty thousand spectators. The circles of seats, one above another, are of brick and cement, more or less covered with scattering tufts of grass, and as the ashes and soil on the exterior have not yet been removed, we were enabled to walk over adjacent ground on a level with the top of the wall and look down upon the ruins. There are the ruins, also, of the great Theater, holding five thousand, and the small Theater, made to seat fifteen hundred spectators. Near by are the remains of a building called the Gladiator's Barrack, one chamber of which appears to have been used as a prison, in which were found three skeletons and iron stocks for the feet. It is probable that other apartments of this edifice were likewise so occupied, as there were, in all, the remains of sixty-three bodies discovered on the premises. Here was a spacious bathing house, one section for males and one for females, with their marble basins for both hot and cold baths, their dressing rooms, and every other convenience of such an establishment. These rooms, like those of nearly all the houses and palaces, are ornamented with stucco reliefs and fresco paintings on the walls.

In one part of the town we came to a well, still supplied with pure water. Connected with the palaces were beautiful fountains, the marble adornments of which, with their cisterns, are still in a good state of preservation. There is a small Museum here filled with curious relics and models of various objects here brought to light. The most striking are plaster casts of corpses of a number of the ill-fated inhabitants, and a cast of the body of a dog, showing from his contortions that he died in extreme agony. A figure of a young girl has a ring on one of the fingers. These casts were taken by filling with plaster the cavities left by their bodies, which, embedded in the hardened ashes, had decayed. We have a perfect photograph of one of them, showing that the poor sufferer met death lying on her face, doubtless in the hope of avoiding suffocation. The excavation is still going on, but very slowly, we should judge from the comparatively few persons at work when we were present. Most of these were women and children, who carried the soil and ashes in baskets on their heads a short distance to a truck running on a temporary railroad to be conveyed away. Army or other Government officials were superintending the work. Pompeii was a walled city, and we entered through one of the old gateways. We might give many more particulars, but we should leave room for the poet, Rogers:

"At the fount,

Just where the three ways meet, I stood and looked,
('T was near a noble house, the house of Pansa,)

And all was still as in the long, long night
That followed, when the shower of ashes fell,
When they that sought Pompeii sought in vain!
It was not to be found.
But now a ray,

Bright and yet brighter, on the pavement glanced,
And on the wheel-track worn for centuries,
And on the stepping-stones from side to side,
O'er which the maidens, with their water urns,
Were wont to trip so lightly. Full and clear
The moon was rising, and at once revealed
The name of every dweller, and his craft;
Shining throughout, with an unusual luster,
And lighting up this city of the dead.

"Mark, where within, as though the embers lived,
The ample chimney-vault is dun with smoke.
There dwelt a miller; silent and at rest
His mill-stones now. In old companionship
Still do they stand as on the day he went,
Each ready for its office — but he comes not.
And there, hard by, (where one in idleness
Has stopt to scrawl a ship, an armed man;
And in a tablet on the wall we read
Of shows ere long to be,) a sculptor wrought,
Nor meanly, blocks, half chiseled into life,
Waiting his call. Here long, as yet attests
The trodden floor, an olive merchant drew
From many an earthen jar, no more supplied;
And here from his a vintner served his guests
Largely, the stain of his o'erflowing cups

Fresh on the marble. On the bench, beneath,

They sat and quaffed and looked on them that passed,
Gravely discussing the last news from Rome."

And now, bidding a last good-bye to the silent. city, we mounted our carriages and were speedily conveyed to our lodgings in Naples, wondering why it is that while one city is engulfed by a terrible earthquake and another overwhelmed with burning. ashes, others still are exempt from any such awful catastrophe.