SYRACUSE-TEMPLE OF MINERVA-EAR OF DIONYSIUS- DEAD MONKS-- TOMB OF ARCHIMEDES ARETHUSA'S FOUNTAIN-MESSINA-FIRST SIGHT OF VE SUVIUS. Naples, December. WE left Malta in the evening by the Neapolitan steamer for Sicily and Naples, and the next morning, at nine o'clock, landed at Syracuse, where the boat remained twelve hours; so we had the day before us to devote to all that was interesting in this ancient city. We procured an exceedingly good guide-one Jack Robinson, an Englishman, who had lived so long in foreign countries, that he could scarce speak his native language, his French being much more intelligible than his English. Ancient Syracuse was once destroyed by an earthquake, and every thing seems to have been toppled down and swept away, either by this wonderful convulsion of nature, or by the ravages of time since it occurred. The city was built on an island, separated from the main island; the dismemberment probably caused by a prior volcanic convulsion. The modern town is well built, handsomely paved, and contains many fine, large and handsome public edifices, among which are the theatre and the cathedral. This last, was once a temple dedicated to Minerva, the old columns of the temple still form the sides of the building, but they have been filled in between with plaster, and the fine stone of which they were composed, is covered with many coats of white-wash. The mosaic or finely tesselated pavement, also ANCIENT SYRACUSE. 175 belonged to the old temple; and we were shown a white marble font, said to have been found in the first christian church in Christendom, which they assert to have been in Sicily. The front of the temple was destroyed by an earthquake, but is replaced by one exceedingly beautiful, having some fine Corinthian columns, with the most beautifully carved capitals I have ever seen. We rode upon the site of the ancient city, where vestiges of its former grandeur may still be seen. In one place, a solitary column stands, as if mourning the desolation around; this is supposed to have belonged to a temple of Ceres and Proserpine. On another spot, midway in the plain, stand two gigantic pillars, all that remain of the once magnificent temple of Olympian Jove, which contained his statue, with a mantle of gold, wrought from the spoils of the Carthagenians, but which Dionysius the elder took from him, saying, "the son of Saturn has a garment too heavy for summer, and too cold for winter, and should be provided with one suitable for both seasons." Near by, are the remains of a large reservoir, probably used for purifying water; and in the distance, we could discern the ancient aqueduct, which led to it. Our road led to a convent of Capuchins, who, though it is contrary to their order to admit females, do not hesitate to admit English ladies, alleging that they are not christians. Attached to the convent are quarries, supposed to be the experimental excavations of Dionysius, seeking a good conductor of sound for his famous ear. They were used as prisons, and contained at one time fourteen thousand prisoners, but are now sub. terranean gardens-every thing growing without care, wild, yet luxuriant-orange, lemon, fig and olive trees, and some of the most delicious citrons I have ever eaten. The rock was beautifully draped with a vine, which the monks told us was the laurel leaf of the poets; so I took care to bear away a sprig. These rocks seemed composed almost entirely of petrified shells, and other marine substances, having a singular appearance, and in many of the crevices, olive trees are growing, their pliant trunks twisting and flattening themselves to the shape of the chasm, and showing the antiquity both of the tree and of the cleft in the rock. These quarries have not only served as prisons, but as places of interment in ancient and modern times; some ancient sarcophagi still remaining; among the modern stones, is a tablet, with an inscription to the memory of an American midshipman, shot here in a duel in 1822, at the early age of eighteen. An old monk and a young one, conducted us through the quarries, after which they asked if we would like to go into the chapel and see the monks, at least, so we interpreted their Italian. This we had not dared hoped for, yet we readily assented. They led the way into the church, and then to a long, wide chamber beneath, to which he descended by means of a trap-door, and narrow steps. Into this the sun was streaming brightly, lighting up a long row of niches on either side, in which were standing the skeletons of a ghastly array of dead brethren in the dress of their order, and other pious men, whose friends paid for their admittance. Many of them had a crown of thorns upon their bare and fleshless skulls, and ropes about their necks, fastened to a nail behind, to keep them perpendicular, and a label attached to their joined hands, on which was written their name, age, &c. It was a hideous spectacle, and one entirely new, but after it was over I did not regret that I had seen it. Our next visit was more agreeable, being to another of these subterranean prisons, owned by a marquis, and formed into a lovely garden of fruits and flowers, under excellent cultivation. We were presented by the gardener with oranges and lemons, besides a beautiful bouquet of roses, jessamine, lavender, heliotrope and orange flowers. These all growing in the open air in December, and we eating oranges under the trees from which they were plucked, and in our summer apparel; can you imagine aught more delightful? Among the most curious and interesting of the antiquities here, is the prison of the tyrant, called "Dionysius' ear." It is in the form of a letter S, seventeen feet wide, eighty feet high, and one hundred and twenty long. The sides slope gradually to the summit, terminating in a channel along its roof, which conveys every sound to an aperture midway, communicating with a private chamber, where the tyrant used to sit listening to the conversation of his prisoners. The power of conveying sound here is truly wonderful; a whisper from one end may be distinctly heard at the other, and a pistol fired makes a report like a cannon -the reverberations continuing ten seconds; even tearing or crumbling a piece of paper may be heard in every part. Adjoining this prison, are the quarries where the prisoners worked, and whence the huge and solid pillars for their many beautiful temples were taken. A part of this, is now occupied by men and children, weaving a beautiful kind of twine, such as is used for fish-lines and nets, all active and noisy, and all clamoring for " quelque-cosa," and "piccolamoneta," as soon as we came in sight. Adjoining this is a singular kind of salt-works, where saltpetre is made by boiling the earth on the spot, which seemed curious enough to us, and for which the gentlemen accounted, by supposing it to be the ashes of the ancient city, mingled with volcanic substances. The earth is put into tubs of water for twentyfour hours; they then draw it off, and boil it twenty-four, after which it is placed in the sun an equal length of time, which converts it into saltpetre. The article of salt is a monopoly of the king, and the source of great wealth to him. More than fifty feet above our heads, yet some twenty below the surface, is seen the remains of a pipe or conduit, which is sup 178 CATACOMBS OF SYRACUSE. posed to have conveyed water for the use of the prisoners. We visited the tomb of Archimedes, then ascended the heights of the ancient city, where are the remains of its theatre, (supposed the most ancient of Grecian theatres,) its ampitheatre, fountains, and aqueducts. Descending the hill, we followed the ancient road to Tyche, cut out of solid rock, having a place on either side, worn by the wheels, and in the centre by the horse; each side is lined with tombs or sepulchres, cut in the rock in the same manner as those in the catacombs. There were recesses cut in the rock in which were inserted marble slabs with inscriptions. Our guide led us next to the old church of San Giovanni. A monk lives here like a hermit, upon the donations he receives for showing the catacombs, and the remains of a very ancient church, (underneath that of San Giovanni,) called San Matthieu, in which was found the font shown us in the cathedral, and is the church said by the people to have been the first built in Christendom. In a chapel, is the tomb of the first bishop, San Matthieu; some old sculptures and frescoes still remain, but are not very attractive. The catacombs are exceeding curious and interesting, extending from fourteen to twenty-two miles, having passages and galleries running like streets in every direction, with large openings or cells on either side, arched above, the flooring divided into lesser cells or coffins, as if intended for a family mausoleum; there were small ones for children, and a few larger ones separate, as if intended for persons of distinction. The passages were narrow, and in some places so low, that Giovanni, our guide, called out to us, in his broken English, to "lay heads." The main passage, however, is six feet wide and eight feet high, and crossed by numerous others. In one of the sepulchral chambers, we counted seventeen divisions, and at one place we could see a passage leading to a tier above the one we were in, but there is now no ac |