gathering, or with a little of the last year's wine, and a slice or two of bread made of the Grannone, or Indian corn. If you stop and ask them whence they came, the chance is that your ear will be charmed by some classical name, or, with only a trifling alteration, by the very name of some place of which you have read in the ancient Roman poets and historians. And all round about Rome there is scarcely a river, brook, lane, mountain, or hill, but retains its ancient name, nor is there a rock without a name. The "nulla sine nomine saxum" may still be repeated, and hardly is there a rock among them all but is famed in poetry, history, or tradition. Say to these vintage people, “Donde venite ?”-Whence come you? and the reply will probably be, "Veniamo da Velletri"-We come from Velletri (the Velitre of antiquity, that most important of all the cities of the Volsci, against whom Coriolanus waged his glorious warfare); or, "We come from the hills of Albano;" or, "We have been gathering grapes on the hills of Palestrina" (the ancient Præneste); or, "We come from the hills by Lake Nemi;" or "We have been filling the winevats at Baccano;" or "We come from Tivoli" (the Tibur of Horace). Or perhaps they are dancing from the hills of Veii, that once-populous Etruscan city, which stood as long a siege by the Romans as old Troy did by the Greeks, and within the almost obliterated circuit of which the shepherd now leads his flock, as in the days of Propertius. And you meet these joyous vintagers dancing on those ancient Roman roads, the Via Appia, the Via Flaminia, or the Via Valeria, which not only bear unchanged their old names, but which are still in many places paved with the large, rough, stone blocks which the conquerors of the world laid upon them, while here and there you find the ancient milestones erect, and with their inscriptions uneffaced. Or if these people have been working nearer home, they are perhaps dancing from the Aventine Mount, or from the Viminal, or from the hills which slope down to the grotto and fount of Ægeria, where the Roman lawgiver met by night his friendly nymph and monitress.

Some of the women and children of these vintagers are always loaded with the beautiful purple grape; and very often, when the nature of the road allows it, there is in the van of the procession or Bacchanalian dance a lofty carro, filled within with the simple household utensils of those who have been working at a distance from their homes, but covered overhead with bunches of grapes hanging from tall hoops, or tastefully festooned between tall vine-poles. The large, sedate, creamcolored oxen which draw the car, have wreaths round their necks, or chaplets thrown on their horns, and it is considered an appropriate grazia or grace, that they should bear on their neck or chest some broad stains of the ruby wine. Some of the men carry large torches, made of the wood of the pine, which was equally sacred to Bacchus and to Neptune, and which, from its resinous nature, burns freely, and makes a good blaze. These pine torches are almost facsimiles of those used in the ancient sacrifices and festivals, and of which we find such frequent representations in ancient sculpture. The men carry them with a truly classical grace. They are, for the most part, borne erect; but at times, as at the conclusion of a dance, or upon coming in sight of their houses or their parish-church, they are waved in the air overhead with triumphant shouts, and

The Fescennine license of language, and the rough jokes, often too practical to be pleasant, which we have mentioned in speaking of our dear friend Policinella, are left behind in the vineyards and wine-presses, where all the dancing consists of jumping with naked feet on the gathered grapes (the only process by which the juice is expressed for the making of the wine), and the peasants now only exhibit their best dancing to the accompaniment of their most cheerful and best music; and if the stranger is now and then assailed with a jest as he passes the merry group, it is but a smooth and harmless one. The Vendemmia dance in itself is far from being deficient in natural grace and elegance. The picture is generally beautifully and warmly colored, for reds, scarlets, crimsons, and all the brightest hues are found in the dresses of the peasantry. Doubtlessly the classicality of the costume is impaired somewhat by the men's hats, knee-breeches, and enormous shoe-buckles. For the last-named articles the country people, as well of the Roman states as of the Neapolitan kingdom, have an extraordinary liking, and the larger and clumsier they are

the more they seem to their taste. If the bright metal of the buckle covers the whole instep and reaches nearly to the extremity of the great toe, it is the more admired. The women reckon their fortune by the number of woollen mattresses, rings, ear-rings, and gold-chains, they may possess; the property of a man is often estimated by his shoe-buckles and walking-stick. A poor fellow who wished to impress us with a high notion of one of his neighbors' substance and well-doing in the world, told us that the said neighbor's buckles weighed half a pound, and were of solid silver, and that he never went out of a holyday without carrying a gold-headed cane: indeed, the expression, "he wears silver buckles and carries a gold walkingstick," is a common idiom in the Neapolitan kingdom, signifying that the man of whom so much is predicated is in the enjoyment of worldly prosperity. We are speaking in the present tense; but, alack! great changes, we are told, are taking place and have taken place since we sauntered away a happy time in the sunny south. This transition state encourages us to multiply these little recollections and memoranda. Such things are not recorded in histories, and are seldom mentioned even in books of travels. In a few more years they will have ceased to exist: and in the manners and habits of men there is nothing that is, or that has been, but is worthy of some preservation.

A good-natured old priest, who dabbled in antiquarianisms and in poetry, being a member of the Roman Archæological Society, and holding a crook among the Arcadian shepherds as well, endeavored to explain to us that the procession of the returning vintagers, with their dancing, and music, and burning torches, was nothing but a lineal descendant or representative of the triumphal march of the god Bacchus while he was subduing India and all the regions of the remote east. "Look at our ancient basso-relievoes, and there you will see counterparts or prototypes of this scene -Bacchus, who was the inventor of triumphs, seated in a triumphal car, and attended by women dancing, men brandishing torches-the panthers and tigers are out of our picture, because we have none in these parts; and the men and women are well covered with clothes, as decency requires: but you will see that all the rest is very like, and perfectly classical."

But our good old friend was seldom at a loss in tracing these resemblances, or in finding ancient and classical reasons for modern usages. “Why," said we to him one day, as we were passing a fine flock of domestic geese that were waddling along one of the banks of the Tiber, "why do your people in the south of Italy never eat this bird, which is esteemed very good food in America, France, England, Germany, and most other countries?" He put his forefinger between his eyebrows, and thought for a while; but he soon replied," Vi diró il perchè-I will tell you why. Ever since that memorable and funest night when the geese saved the capitol from the Gauls, they have been held as sacred birds." We objected to this derivation of the custom, that the peasants treated the geese with very little respect, and at times with great barbarity, roughly stripping them, while alive, of their quills, to sell for pens, and of their feathers to put into cushions and pillows; and that none of them knew the story about the Gauls, the geese, and the capitol. "This may be," said he, "but the story must have been at one time known to all Rome at least, and so the usage has de scended to them through a long inheritance, and is not a bit the less binding through their ignorance of its origin." To the other objection we raised out of the silence of ancient writers, our antiquary replied by asking us who knew whether the sanctification of the geese had not been given in some of the missing books of Livy, or in some other of the innumerable writings of ancient authors which have been lost for ever? There was no disputing the point with him; and we confess to the never having investigated it. All we know about it is, that, although the bird was by no means scarce, no Roman or Neapolitan peasant would, in our time, eat of a tame goose. Great black snakes we have seen fried and eaten both in Calabria and in Sicily; and the flesh of the wolf was not rarely put upon the table by the poor peasants of Lucania, Samnium, and Sabina-but gooseflesh did we never see upon table or platter.

At one of the western extremities of the Pontine marshes is the mouth of the river Astura, and, beyond that, Capo d'Anzio, the ancient Antium; while at the other western extremity rises Monte Circello, the headland of Circæum, immortalized by Homer. Beyond the marshes, in a beautiful situation, stands Terracina, the approach to which is particularly fine. It was originally built by the Volsci, and called by them Anxur; but the Greeks afterward called it Traxina; whence comes the modern

name of Terracina. Here are considerable remains of antiquity; and persons who have few leisure hours should inquire for the cicerone, who is always in attendance at the inn, and, accompanied by him, visit the cathedral, supposed to have been built on or near the site of a temple dedicated to Apollo. The portico of this church contains a sarcophagus with an inscription in honor of Theodoric, first king of Italy; and the baldacchino is supported by four Corinthian columns of Parian marble, taken from the temple of Apollo, considerable remains of which may still be traced, near the cathedral. On the brow of a high hill above the cathedral are ruins called by some persons, Theodoric's palace, and by others, who judge from Virgil's description, the temple of Jupiter Anxur: but be this as it may, the only vestiges discernible now, are the subterranean part, with a low square building above it. Antiquaries assert that the ruins of Theodoric's palace, and the temple of Jupiter Anxur, may both be traced on this height above Terracina. The temple of Jupiter Anxur was erected by order of the consul Posthumius, after the designs of Vitruvius Pollio. On the way to this spot stand the ancient walls of Anxur, remains of reservoirs, tombs, &c. ; and here likewise is a magnificent view of Monte Circello, and the bay of Naples. The inn at Terracina stands beyond the town, and near the ancient port, made by Antoninus Pius; which, though now choked up with mud, is well worth notice. An endless variety of beautiful flowers and shrubs adorn the rocks beyond Terracina, between which town and a building called Torre de' Confini, the road passes near a pestiferous lake. Torre de' Confini divides the patrimony of St. Peter from the kingdom of Naples, and five miles beyond the entrance to the Neapolitan territories is Fondi, a small town on the Via Appia, which constitutes its principal street; it once belonged to the Aurunci, a people of Latium; and, in the year 1534, suffered cruelly in consequence of an attempt made one night, by Hariaden Barbarossa to seize the beautiful Julia Conzaga, countess of Fondi, with a view of presenting her to the grand signior. Julia, however, being roused from sleep by the clamors of her people at the approach of the Turks, sprang from her bed, leaped out of the window, and escaped to the neighboring mountains; while Barbarossa, being thus disappointed of his prize, revenged himself by pillaging and destroying the town, and carrying many of its inhabitants into slavery. Fondi exhibits considerable remains of Cyclopian walls. The air here is deemed unwholesome, owing to the above-named lake. Eight miles from Fondi stands Itri, a large village also built on the Via Appia, in a country abounding with vines, figs, and lentisks, which last produce gum-mastic. Here are remains of a Cyclopian tower. On the right, about a quarter of a mile from Mola, is an ancient edifice, in good preservation, supposed to be the cenotaph of Cicero placed on the spot where he was murdered, while endeavoring to escape from his enemies.

The approach to Capua is handsome; but the modern town, built on the banks of the Volturno, anciently Volturnus, and about one mile and a half distant from the ruins called ancient Capua, is, judging by the report of Strabo and Florus, very unlike the latter; as, instead of being one of the most splendid cities of Europe, it is ill-built, dirty, and devoid of any object particularly worth notice. The road from Capua to Naples, a distance of fifteen miles, is one continued garden, but exhibits no view of the bay, and scarcely any of the city. Between Capua and Naples, in the town of Aversa, there is an excellent lunatic asylum, called the Maddalena. This edifice, which is spacious and elegantly clean, has belonging to it a large garden and a handsome church; and that persons who are sent to this asylum may be pleased with its outward appearance, the grates of every window are shaped and. painted to represent flowerpots filled with flowers. The attendance here is particu-larly good, and the utmost gentleness and indulgence are practised toward the patients, each of whom pays fifteen ducats per month; for which sum they live comfortably. The Maddalena accommodates five hundred patients.

CHAPTER XV.-ITALY.

NAPLES (in Italian, Napoli) seems, at first sight, to be universally considered as the most captivating city of Italy, owing to its immense number of inhabitants, mag nificent quay, and beautiful situation. This first impression, however, sometimes wears off: while the bad taste which pervades almost every building, induces scientific travellers to prefer Rome, even in her present mutilated state, to all the gayety of Naples. This latter city is so ancient that it seems scarcely possible to pierce through the clouds of obscurity which envelop its origin. Tradition, however, reports that it was founded by an Argonaut, thirteen hundred years before the Christian era, and after. ward peopled and enriched by Greek colonies from Rhodes, Athens, and Chalcis. It anciently bore the name of Parthenope; an appellation bestowed by the Phoenicians in consequence of its charming situation. Near Parthenope stood another city, called Paleopolis, from being so old that its origin was ascribed to Hercules; and when Parthenope was destroyed by her jealous neighbor, the people of Cumæ, and afterward rebuilt in obedience to an oracle, the new city was called Neapolis, to distinguish it from the old one, called Paleopolis, till at length both were joined together by Augustus. Naples, however, still retained her Grecian manners, customs, and language; and even to the present day retains them in several parts of her territories. This city is built on the acclivity of a tufo mountain, at the extremity of a bay nearly thirty miles in diameter (called by the ancients Crater Sinus), and sheltered on the right by the promontory of Miseno, and on the left by that of Sorrento; while the lofty island of Capri, rising in its centre, acts like an enormous mole to break the force of its waves. Nothing can be more magnificent than the city of Naples when viewed from this bay, whence all its buildings present themselves to view, rising amphitheatrically, till crowned by the sombre castle of St. Elmo, and, when seen for the first time, appears too lovely to be real. It runs in a long and gentle curve round the seashore, rising inland up the acclivities of gentle hills, which above the line of the city are covered with vineyards and gardens, and speckled with villas and monasteries. The summit of one of these hills is crowned by the massive palace of Capo di Monte, that of another by the spacious monastery of San Martino (and the castle of St. Elmo), in the rear of which, and high above, stretches the wooded mountain of the Camaldoli, with another picturesque monastery on its brow; and the ridges of these hills immediately behind Naples are fringed in many places with romanticlooking villages, and here and there with groups of the graceful Italian pine-tree. To the right of the city, at the distance of about four miles, rises the conical volcano of Vesuvius, at whose feet repose the villages of Portici and Resina, which stand over the ancient city of Herculaneum (buried by an eruption of the mountain), and are connected with the capital by an almost uninterrupted chain of suburbs and hamlets. To the left, starting close from the extremity of the city, projects the gentle promontory of Posilippo, entirely covered with beautiful little villages, country-seats, towers, gardens, and groves. And at the background of nearly the whole of this magical picture tower the bold summits of part of the Apennine chain of mountains. The view from the city is not less admirable: besides Vesuvius and Posilippo, and the winding shores of the bay, it commands, immediately in front, the rugged and most picturesque cliffs of the island of Capri; a little to the left of that island, Cape Campanella, the extremity of a peninsula as grand as that of Posilippo is gentle; and, glancing along that coast until it is surmounted at a corner of the bay opposite to Vesuvius by the sublime heights of Mount St. Angelo, whose rocky summit is ornamented by a small white hermitage, the eye can take in the towns of Massa, of Sorrento (the birthplace of the poet Tasso), of Vico, of Castellamare, and many villages on the declivities of the mountains, or on the cliffs that rise on that side perpendicularly from the bay.

The interior of the city, like Constantinople, is not equal to its external appearance and the scenery around it. How, indeed, could it be so? But, also like Constantinople, its interior is much better than travellers have generally chosen to describe it. Naples is an open and irregularly-built city; its greatest length is along the sea