The habitable world described: or the present state of the people in all parts of the globe, from north to south; shewing the situation, extent, climate, ... including all the new discoveries: ... With a great variety of maps and copper-plates, ... By the Rev. Dr. John Trusler. ... [pt.15]

Table of contents

- [engravedtitlepage]

- [titlepage]

- EGYPT.

- CHAP. VIII. Of the Diseases.

- CHAP. IX. Of their Commerce.

- CHAP. X. History and Government.

- CHAP. XI. Of their Antiquities.

- A DESCRIPTION OF ARABIA, FROM THE LATEST AUTHORS.

- CHAP. I. Country, Climate, and Productions.

- CHAP. II. Cities.

- MOCHA.

- CHAP. III. Persons, Dress, Habitations, Food, Customs, Travelling, Marriages, Arab Women.

- CHAP. IV. Education.

- CHAP. V. Religion.

- CHAP. VI. Diseases and Funerals.

- [map]

- A DESCRIPTION OF ITALY, FROM BUSCHIN, MARTYN, MILLER, PIOZZI, BARETTI, KEYSLER, ADDISON, SHARP, SHERLOCK, GROSLEY, NORTHALL, &c.

- CHAP. I.

- A DESCRIPTION OF THE KINGDOM OF THE TWO SICILIES, FROM BUSCHING, MISSON, LASSELLES, RAY, KEYSLER, FORBES, CONDAMINE, GROSLEY, SWINBURNE, BRYDONE, NORTHALL, MARTIN, PIOZZI, MOORE, &c. CHAP II. Of the Country, Climate, Productions.

- CHAP. III. Of Naples.

- CHAP. IV. Of the People, Character, &c.

- CHAP. V. Of the Environs, East of Naples.

- CHAP. VI. The same Subject continued.

- CHAP. VII. Of the Environs, West of Naples.

- CHAP VIII. Of the several Cities, &c.

- CHAP. IX. In Continuation.

- DIRECTIONS for PLACING the PLATES OF VOL. X. XI. XII. XIII. XIV. and XV.

END OF VOL. XV.

THE Habitable World DESCRIBED.

Inscribed by Permission to His Royal Highness Frederick DUKE OF YORK, &c. &c.

LONDON: Published as the Act directs by the Author, Sold at the Literary Press. No. 62. Wardour Street, Soho.

1790.

THE HABITABLE WORLD DESCRIBED, OR THE PRESENT STATE OF THE PEOPLE IN ALL PARTS OF THE GLOBE, FROM NORTH TO SOUTH; SHEWING The Situation, Extent, Climate, Productions, Animals, &c. &c. of the different Kingdoms and States; Including all the new Discoveries: TOGETHER WITH The Genius, Manners, Customs, Trade, Religion, Forms of Government, &c. of the Inhabitants, and every thing respecting them, that can be either entertaining or informing to the Reader, collected from the earliest and latest Accounts of Historians and Travellers of all Nations; With some that have never been published in this Kingdom; And nothing advanced but on the best Authorities.

WITH A great Variety of MAPS and COPPER-PLATES, engraved in a capital Style, the Subjects of which are mostly new, and such as have never yet been given in any English work.

BY THE REV. DR. JOHN TRUSLER.

VOL. XV.

LONDON: Printed for the AUTHOR, at the LITERARY-PRESS, No. 62, WARDOUR STREET, SOHO; and sold by all Booksellers.

M DCC XCIV.

EGYPT.

CHAP. VIII. Of the Diseases.

AMONG other diseases incident to the human frame, those of the eyes are peculiar to Egypt, where the blind are numerous. This affliction ought not, however, to be attributed to the reflected beams of a burning sun; for the Arabs, who live amidst sands, generally have good eyes, and a piercing sight: nor must we think with Hassalquist, whose stay was short in the country, that the disease was occasioned by the exhalations of the stagnant waters; for the French merchants, whose houses are on the banks of the canal of Grand Cairo; that, for six months in the year, contains water, the smell of which is insupportable, would be all blind; and for these fifty years, not one has lost his sight. The origin of this disease, no doubt, is the Egyptian custom of sleeping in the open air, on the terraces of their houses, or near their huts, during summer. From what Volney remarks on this subject, it appears, the sea-air contributes very much to dim the organs of sight, in this misty atmosphere.

Defluxions on the eyes, says he, are not peculiar to Egypt, they are also frequent in Syria; with this difference, that they are less general; and that the inhabitants of the sea-coast, are alone subject to them.

In the city of Cairo, which is always full of filth, these disorders are more prevalent, than in all the rest of Egypt. The common people are more liable to them, than persons in easy circumstances, and the natives more than foreigners. The prodigious number of persons in this city, whose sight is either gone, or impaired, is scarce credible. Of a hundred persons, adds the above writer, I have met while walking the streets of Cairo, twenty have been quite blind, ten wanting an eye, and twenty others have had their eyes red, purulent, or blemished. Almost every one wears a fillet, a token of an approaching or convalescent opthalmy; but nothing is more astonishing, than the indifference and apathy, with which they support so dreadful a misfortune. It was decreed, says the Mussulman; praise be to God! God has willed it, says the Christian, blessed be his name!

These defluxions happen at no certain season. They are an endemial disorder, common to every month of the year, and to every age. The custom of sleeping in the air, to which it is generally attributed, is not adequate to the effects ascribed to it; for, in countries remote from the sea, the inhabitants also sleep on their terraces, and yet their sight is not injured. If, therefore, at Cairo, in the Delta, and on the coast of Syria, it is dangerous to sleep in the open air, this air, must acquire some noxious quality from the vicinity of the sea.

The usual diet of the Egyptians appears, likewise, to be a powerful cause. The cheese, sour milk, honey, confection of grapes, green fruits, and raw vegetables, the ordinary food of the people, produce in the stomach, a disorder, which physicians have observed, to affect the sight. Bodies, thus nourished, abound in corrupted humours, which are constantly endeavouring a discharge. Diverted from the ordinary channels, by habitual perspiration, they fly to the exterior parts, and naturally attack the head; because the Egyptians, by shaving it once a week, and keeping it very warm, principally attract the perspiration there; and, if the head receives ever so slight an impression of cold, on being uncovered, this perspiration is suppressed, and falls upon the teeth; or still more readily upon the eyes, as being the tenderest part. On every fresh cold, this organ is weakened, and at length finally destroyed.

Blindness is, in many instances, occasioned by the consequences of the small-pox. This disorder, which is very fatal in that country, is not well treated; during the three first days, confection of grapes, honey and sugar, are administered to the sick; and, after the seventh, they are allowed milk, meat, and salt-fish, as if they were in full health. Inoculation is not unknown to them, but little practised. They perform the operation, in a manner different from us, by inserting a thread into the flesh, or by making the patient inhale, or swallow the powder of dried pustules.

Another very general distemper at Cairo, is, that which the vulgar there call the blessed evil; and which we also improperly term, the Neapolitan disorder: one half of Cairo is infected with it. The greatest part of the inhabitants, believe it proceeds from fright, from witchcraft, or from uncleanliness. Some suspect the real cause; but as that is connected with a subject, on which they are remarkably reserved, they chuse not to mention it. This blessed evil is very difficult to cure; mercury, under whatever form administered, generally fails; sudorific vegetables succeed better, without being however infallible; happily, the virus is not very active, from the great natural and artificial perspiration. We see there, as in Spain, old men carrying this disorder about them, to the age of eighty. But the danger is imminent, to such as carry it into a cold country; for it there never fails to make a rapid progress, and shews itself always more inveterate from this transplantation.

Several modern authors, with M. Paw at their head, have said, the pestilence is native in Egypt. Foreign physicians, says Savary, who have resided there twenty or thirty years, have assured me, this epidemic disease was brought thither by the Turks. A proof that it is not native in Egypt is, that, except in time of great famine, it never breaks out in Grand Cairo, nor the inland towns, but always begins at sea ports, on the arrival of Turkish vessels, and travels to the capital; whence it proceeds as far as Syene. Having come to a period in Grand Cairo, and being again introduced, by the people of Upper Egypt, it renews with greater fury, and sometimes sweeps off two or three hundred thousand souls; but always stops in the month of June; or those who catch it then are always cured.

We ought not to pass over another striking remark, which is, that the excess of heat and cold, are equally destructive of this dreadful contagion; winter kills it in Constantinople; and summer, in Egypt; it seldom reaches the polar circle, and never passes the tropic. The caravavs of Grand Cairo, Damascus, and Ispahan, which are sometimes infected, never propagate it at Mecca; and Yemen, is safe from the plague.

The Europeans, stand aghast with fear, at the calamities it produces in Grand Cairo. According to the commissioners of the customs, this city contains from eight to nine hundred thousand inhabitants. They are so crowded, that two hundred citizens here, occupy less space than thirty at Paris. The streets are very narrow, and always full of people, who croud and jostle each other; and the passenger is sometimes obliged to wait several minutes, before he can make his way. One person, with the plague, will communicate it to a hundred; its progress is rapid, and spreads with the violence of a conflagration, the flames of which are augmented by the wind.

When the disease breaks out, the French shut up their district, and intercept all communication with the city. Arab servants, who live without, every day bring them such provisions as they want; and, except bread, which does not communicate the infection, they throw what they bring through an aperture, cut in each door, into a tub of water, by which it is purified and used without fear. These precautions give health and life to the French merchants, while surrounded with all the horrors of death.

Burials, funeral processions, and tears, are in every street; for, like the Turks and Greeks, when the Egyptians bury their relations and friends, there are hired mourners, who make the air resound with their lamentations; and desolate mothers, who, groaning, cover their faces with dust, rend their cloaths, attending to the grave the child they have nurtured, and whom they soon follow; for the Eastern people, more pious than we are, never forsake their infected relations, but assist them to the last moment, though almost certain their affection will be fatal. These cries of despair, and funeral pomp, spread a general consternation, and the French tremble in their asylums. Who, indeed, without terror, could see humanity suffering under so fearful a visitation?

All do not die who are attacked; but there are, sometimes, no less than three hundred thousand people carried off by this pestilence, in Grand Cairo. Could it be supposed, that the example of the French, who, when the contagion is past, leave their houses safe, and in health, would not induce the Turks to use like precautions? Could it be imagined, that throughout the whole Ottoman empire, quarantine is not performed at one single port; or merits a nation like this, to inhabit a country of the ancient Greeks and Egyptians?

CHAP. IX. Of their Commerce.

TWO powerful causes have contributed to render Cairo, the seat of an extensive commerce; the first of which is, that all the commodities consumed in Egypt, are collected within the walls of that city; and all the persons of property, that is, the Mamlouks and lawyers, are assembled there, and draw thither their whole revenue.

The second is the situation, which makes this city a centre of circulation; while, by the Red Sea, it corresponds with Arabia and India; by the Nile, with Abyssinia, and the interior parts of Africa; and by the Mediterranean, with Europe and the empire of Turkey. Every year, a caravan from Abyssinia arrives at Cairo, and brings from a thousand to twelve hundred black slaves; as also elephants' teeth, gold dust, ostrich feathers, gums, parrots, and monkeys; while another destined for Mecca, leaves the extremities of Morocco, and receiving pilgrims, even from the river of Senegal, coasts along the Mediterranean, collecting those of Algiers, Tripoli, and Tunis, and arrives by the desart at Alexandria; consisting of not less than three or four thousand camels. From thence it proceeds to Cairo, where it joins the caravan of Egypt. They then jointly set out for Mecca, where they arrive one hundred days after. But the pilgrims of Morocco, who have six hundred leagues more to travel, do not reach home, till after an absence of more than a year. The lading of these caravans consists in India stuffs, shawls, gums, pearls, perfumes, and especially the coffee of Yemen.

The same commodities arrive by another route at Suez. Cairo does not retain the whole of this merchandize; but, besides what is there consumed, considerable profits arise from the duties, and the sums expended by the pilgrims. On the other hand, small caravans arrive, from time to time, from Damascus, with silk, oils, and fruits. During the favourable season, there are likewise vessels in the road of Damietta, unloading hogsheads of tobacco, from Latahia; the consumption of which, in Egypt, is enormous. Others arrive successively at Alexandria, bringing clothing, arms, fur, passengers, and wrought silk, from Constantinople. Vessels come likewise from Marscilles, Leghorn, and Venice, with cloths, cochineal, Lyons' stuffs and laces, grocery, paper, iron, lead, Venetian sequins, and German dahlers. All these articles, conveyed by sea to Rosetta, in barks, are first landed there, then reimbarked on the Nile, and sent to Cairo.

From this account, it is not surprising, that commerce should continue so flourishing in the capital of Egypt; and we need not hesitate to believe the report of the commissioner-general of the customs, who asserted, in 1783, that Cairo had traded to the amount of very near six millions and a half sterling.

But, if we examine the channels into which this wealth is poured; if we consider, that great part of the merchandize and coffee of India, passes into foreign countries, the value of which is paid in goods from Europe and Turkey; that the consumption of the country, almost entirely consists of articles of luxury, completely finished, and that the produce given in return, is chiefly raw materials; we shall perceive, that all this commerce is carried on, without contributing greatly to the real riches of Egypt, or the benefit of the people.

Under the Ptolemies, the haven of Alexandria received the merchandize of the whole world; and the city became, as Strabo calls it, the greatest emporium on earth. There was then a canal continued between the Nile, and the Red Sea. This work, was completed under Ptolemy Philadelphus. It began at the Pelusiac branch, and was carried to Arsinoe, now Aggeront, distant two leagues from the port of Suez; for thus far, the sea has retired since that aera. Locks, constructed at its mouth, prevented a too hasty stream; and there were lakes which supplied it where boats might stop.

The Ptolemies kept up a formidable marine in the Red Sea, and the Mediterranean, to protect the Egyptian merchants. Theocritus affirms, they had ninety-seven first-rate ships, several of which were two hundred feet long; and four thousand barks, to bear orders throughout the empire. By such means, Ptolemy Philadelphus extended his conquests far into Ethiopia, and Yemen, and reigned over thirty-three thousand cities. These facts would appear incredible, were they not attested by writers of good authority; and did we not know to what degree of splendor, commerce might raise a state.

Following the example of his predecessors, Ptolemy Evergetes founded his power on trade, to which he gave every encouragement, maintained the marine of the Red Sea, subjugated several of the kings of Homeritae, who reigned in Arabia Felix, commanded them to guard the high roads, and effectually protected caravans from the Arabs. The wealth of Egypt was at its utmost under his reign; and the abundance of gold and riches of all kinds, ever productive of excessive luxury in Alexandria, corrupted the court of its kings. Most men are virtuous in mediocrity; misfortune elevates the mind, and imparts energy, but excessive prosperity enervates; and, by opening the flood-gates of vice, shuts those of happiness.

The Ptolemies enjoying supreme power, abandoned themselves to effeminacy, irresolution, and disorders, which infected the morals of their subjects; for the corruption of kingdoms always begins with that of the great. The fourth of these princes, however, performed some good acts. He also kept up, and maintained, the marine his ancestors had created. Under his reign, were vessels of a size so enormous, that they have never since been equalled. Plutarch describes one of his vessels, with forty benches of rowers, three hundred and seventy-three feet long, and sixty-four high at the poop. This enormous ship, beside which our three-deckers would seem small frigates, contained four hundred sailors to work her, four thousand rowers, and about three thousand fighting men. The arts of ship-building and navigation, must have been brought to great perfection among the Egyptians, who could build and work such immense vessels, that resembled floating towns.

During the Alexandrian war, which Ptolemy XII. sustained against Coesar, the latter burnt a hundred and ten large ships; and the Egyptians still had resources, enabling them to equip a fleet, capable of facing the enemy. But who could withstand the genius of Coesar? To a woman, the glory of triumphing over this great man, was reserved. Cleopatra, subjected the conqueror, by charms irresistible. During the course of her life, this queen displayed magnificence and prodigality, of which history contains not a second example. Cited by Anthony, then at Tarsus in Cecilia, to render an account of her conduct, she went to meet the Roman General. Passing the Mediterranean, she sailed up the Cydnus in a vessel; the description of which resembles what the poets give us of the shell of Venus. The sails were purple, the prow and sides of glittering gold; and the oars, which kept time with the music, were plated with silver. The queen, reclining under her canopy, says Plutarch, enriched with gold, and inestimable gems, corresponded in dress to the splendor of her ship. The richest robes, bedecked with pearls and diamonds, veiled, but did not conceal her charms. Like the Cytherean goddess, round her were numerous children, habited like cupids, agitating the air this new deity breathed; while clouding perfumes, incessantly burnt, were waft •• to the shore. Anthony, intending to punish Cleopatra, soon felt the power of her beauty; and, forgetting the judge, became the lover. Yet, not to beauty alone was the Egyptian queen indebted for victory. She had wit, and a cultivated understanding; knew the Oriental languages, spoke the Greek, Ethiopic, Hebrew, Parthian, Syriac, and Persian; and conversed in their own idioms with the various foreigners, who incessantly came to the port of Alexandria; that was then become the emporium of the world.

Cleopatra, had vanquished Coesar and Anthony, but in vain attempted Augustus, a cold and artful man; and, fearing to be led in triumph by this powerful conqueror, she killed herself. Egypt was then governed by the Romans; and was to Rome, what Peru has been to Spain, and Bengal is to England: supplying Italy with gold and silver in such abundance, that provisions, merchandize, and lands, were doubled in value; thus hastening the ruin of the empire.

In proportion as the Romans narrowed its limits, they adopted the vices and customs of the conquered people. Egypt, was the kingdom that influenced their manners most, because it procured them most wealth. Fine linens, and cotton cloths made at Alexandria superb carpets, and variegated crystals, were transported to Rome; while the abundant productions of the Thebais, supplied the proud city with provisions. After this, she had neither manufactures, nor agriculture; and, in a few years was surrounded, like England, with immense parks, and by gardens; on the spots, that dictators had ploughed and inhabited their rustic mansions; delicious groves, cascades, parterres, and palaces were beheld. Asiatic effeminacy enervated the proud republicans. In vain did the wisest of their emperors endeavour to resist the torrent; nations paid them tribute. Egypt gave them corn, and they imagined they had only to receive the labours of the conquered, and the earth's homage. Its expiring ray freedom, extinguished by Augustus, gave place to slavery, and all its consequent views. The Romans became less desirous of commanding, than of enjoying, festivals and shows. The thirst of gold completed corruption; all was venality at Rome; soldiers and armies were bought, and the praetorian bands set the empire to sale.

To Byzantium Constantine transported the seat of empire, which soon became divided, and its destruction followed. Egypt long was the tottering throne of Constantinople, and furnished its sovereign with resources against its numerous enemies. The time, however, approached, when the glory of Egypt, together with commerce, agriculture, and arts, was to decline.

Mahomet, possessed of a genius, equal to revolutions so vast, created a religion for the nations of Arabia, scattered over the desarts, which was to arm against the whole world. History affords not an instance of another mission so audacious. Death cut short his exploits; but, his successors, animated by his example, and healed by the enthusiasm he had communicated, overthrew neighbouring nations, conquered Egypt, and a part of the East.

Become a province under the califs, Egypt gradually lost her commerce and arts. In her present state, groaning under the tyranny of the beys, she cannot profit by her situation to rival the Europeans, who have discovered new passages to that quarter of the globe, from whence she drew her richest commodities. Her ignorant mariners, far from navigating the Indian, scarcely dare venture over the Red Sea; their greatest effort, says Savary, is their annual voyage to Moka, where there ill armed saicks, incapable of defence, are laden with the coffee of Yemen; the muslins and cloths of Bengal, brought them by the Banyans, the perfumes of Arabia, and the pearls of the isles of Beharim. The coffee they buy for fourpence per pound, at Moka, they sell for fifteen pence at Cairo; and this article alone amounts to half a million sterling.

Egypt, even in a decline, however, appears respectable, because she contains within herself the true source of wealth. Her corn, with which she supplies Arabia, Syria, and a part of the Archipelago; her rice sent over the Mediterranean; her carthamus flowers, with which the people of Provence annually load several ships; her sal ammoniac, transported through all Egypt; her abundant souda; her excellent flax, esteemed by the Italians; her blue cloths, that cloath in part the neighbouring nations; all are objects that will make the balance of trade in her favour. The Abyssinians, bring her gold dust, elephant's teeth, and other precious commodities, which they exchange for her productions. The cloths, lead, arms, and some gold lace from Lyons, which French ships bring, do not equal what they receive; they pay the balance in Turkish piastres. The merchandize, imported by the Turks, is far below what they take in return, and the difference is paid in ready money. Except Moka and Mecca, where the Egyptians leave a great part of their sequins, all who trade with them, bring silver and gold. So plentiful are these metals, that Ali bey flying to Syria, carried with him three millions and a half sterling; and Ismael bey, escaping some years after, loaded fifty camels with sequins, patacas, (a coin worth about five shillings) pearls and jewellery.

If destitute of shipping and manufactures, Egypt is still so wealthy; what might she not be, governed by an enlightened people? What an influx of prosperity would there arise from opening her canals, repairing her mounds, and restoring to agriculture a third of the grounds, buried under the fands; what wealth, from opening her mines of emeralds, famous for almost equalling the diamond in duration! With what utility might her indigo, carthamus, and other substances, excellent for dying, scattered through her desarts, be employed! These are not chimerical riches; Egypt has possessed them for ages: and a wise administration, would restore all the prolific treasures of nature.

It may not be amiss here, to give a more particular description of the caravans, extracted from Major Rooke's entertaining narrative, who crossed the desart with one, from Suez to Grand Cairo. A caravan, says he, signifies an assemblage of camels, horses, mules, men, and other animals, who are formed into large bodies, for the sake of mutual protection; and, as they travel in some parts for two or three months together, over waste and barren desarts, yielding nothing for the support of either man or beast, are obliged to take all necessaries with them, and particularly water: it is on these occasions, that they find the superior excellence of the camel, to all other animals; not only from its great strength and unwearied perseverance, but from that property it has of sustaining thirst for several days. These annual caravans, which go from Aleppo and Cairo to Mecca, are often composed of thirty or forty thousand people, and are under military government. An officer being appointed by the Grand Signior, called the Emir Hagj, as we have before remarked, who conducts and commands them; the order of march, is regular and by ranks; the discipline is very exact; and a guard of Janissaries, with field-pieces, form the escort: they have regular times of marching and halting, which is done by signal. When they take up their ground for the night, tents are pitched; kitchens, cookshops, and coffee-houses, are immediately erected, and a large camp is formed; every thing is as quickly packed up, and the camels are loaded in the morning, to be ready for gun-firing, which puts the whole body in motion. The caravan from Cairo, performs its journey to Mecca, in forty days; where, having staid about a month, to celebrate the Hadji, a festival, in which both the interests of trade and religion are equally consulted, it returns in the same order, stopping at Medina in the way back, to pay a visit to, and make offerings at the shrine of Mahommed, that having been the place of his interment, as Mecca was of his nativity.

The caravan from Suez to Cairo, being under no regulations, is an irregular and straggling body, consisting of about one thousand camels, and half as many men; we set out, says he about noon, travelling on till eight at night; we then took up the ground; the camels eased of their burthens, placed themselves round their food, couchant, with their legs under them; and the men in the same order formed their messes: the caravan was in motion by three the next morning, and travelled on without making one single halt, even to give the camels water or food, till nine at night; some conjecture may from hence be formed, of the power of that animal; the pace we went at, seemed to be nearly four miles an hour, and this was continued for eighteen hours together. My travelling carriage, was termed a Kushob. To compare small things with great, it resembled the body of a coach, with an opening between the two seats for the back of the camel, on which it was placed longitudinally, so that one seat hung on one side, the other on the other, and on each sits a person. I had a canopy over the top, in which I found singular use, as the heat of the sun was intolerable; and, though I could not be conveyed in a manner more favourable to my feelings, lying along on mattrasses, and pillows placed over the seat; yet the uneasy motion of the camel, the heat of the weather, and the excessive drought I experienced, rendered it the most unpleasant journey I ever made.

The distance from Suez to Cairo is eighty miles, and is always a three day's journey for loaded camels; but our's not being loaded, they made the journey in little more than half the time. Having explained the mode of travelling, it will not require many words, to describe a country uniformly barren, and sandy; some part of the way lay through a narrow valley, which appeared to be the bed of the canal, that was made to join the Mediterranean with the Red Sea, and come into the latter at Suez; a great number of petrified branches of trees, and pieces of wood, are met with on the road, with here and there a carcase, which is the vultures' prey; and, in some parts, a few stunted shrubs: every one, in these journies, goes armed, as the caravans are frequently attacked and plundered by the wild Arabs, who strip the people, and leave them to perish on the desart; a circumstance that happened to several of our countrymen, a few years ago, in the following melancholy manner.

A contraband trade had, for some years, been carried on by the English people, from India to Cairo, much to their advantage, and as much to the prejudice of our commerce from thence to Europe: several ships came annually to Suez, with cargoes from India; and though there was a firman of the Grand Signior, to whom the port belongs, strictly forbidding all foreign ships, or Christians, to approach Suez; yet, as the pacha of Cairo, and the chief bey, found their interest in this illicit trade, they suffered the firman to sleep, which it did, till a new pacha was sent from Constantinople, with strict orders to enforce it; whereon the following tragical event befel the Englishmen, when they came next to Suez, with their accustomed merchandize; not aware of this change of men and measures at Cairo, they landed the cargoes of their ships at Suez, paid the duties, and set off. They travelled on the first day with security, pleasing themselves, probably, with the visionary wealth which the goods were to produce, and little thinking how sad a reverse the next morning's light would occasion; scarce had they moved off the ground where they passed the night, when they were surrounded by a large body of men, plundered, wounded, stripped, and left naked in the desart; the camels, with all their effects, water,
PLUNDERING a CARAVAN.

and provisions, being taken off by the robbers: in this piteous plight, they consulted what was best to be done, the only alternative being, whether they should return to Suez, or proceed to Cairo: they imprudently resolved on the latter, to which the distance was double that to Suez; to this place, two only of the company, wiser than the rest, made good their retreat; the others went towards Cairo, at the instance of a commander of one of the ships, who told them, that he knew the way across the desart, and that by going straight to Cairo, and laying their case before the government, they would stand a better chance of recovering their goods; he gave the first proof how bad his counsel was, for being soon spent with heat and fatigue, he dropped and died. Being without their pilot, the rest had but little chance of finding their way across the desart, where there is hardly a track; indeed, had they known it perfectly, it would have availed them little; naked, and exposed to the scorching beams of an African sun, in the month of August, without a drop of water to allay the raging thirst they must have experienced; all perished except one, who arriving spent and speechless, at some Arabs huts, about a league from Cairo, the people there took a great deal of care of him, and partly recovered him; he could scarcely articulate the name of the person to whose house he wished to go; and when he arrived, he was scarcely known, so disguised was he with his sufferings, which he did not get the better of in a twelvemonth.

The cruelty and weakness of a government, that inflicts punishment in the miserable manner above related, is highly culpable; for such was the mode adopted by the pacha and bey, to put in force the firman of the Grand Signior; they themselves, in fact, plundered the caravan, by means of their soldiers, whom they sent on this errand, and appropriated the spoil to their own use: they contrived likewise, to get possession of the English ships, by an artifice of the same dark nature, and imprisoned the crews. The government of Cairo, which, by openly seizing the effects of the people, who came there contrary to the orders of the Grand Signior, and contrary to the laws of their own country, would have acted properly, may justly stand taxed with the greatest inhumanity for the conduct they observed; and fearful that it might draw on them the resentment of the English, who, with a single frigate, could destroy the whole of their trade in the Red Sea: they obliged all the Englishmen, who were then at Cairo, to bind themselves, under the penalty of a considerable sum, that no step should be taken to revenge what had happened, making them find a merchant, who resided at Cairo, to be surety for them.

No Christian ships have come to Suez since this affair; a frigate, with dispatches from India, came to Cosire, about two years after; but the person charged with them, being contraband, was imprisoned by the pacha at Cairo, and sent to Constantinople; for the firman not only forbids foreign ships, and particularly English, from approaching the port of Suez, but all Christians; declaring, "That the sea of Suez, was designed for the noble pilgrimage of Mecca; and, that the port thereof, is a port of two illustrious cities, which are those that make the light of the truth to shine, and the law of the prophet; and are established to promote religion and justice, Mecca the enlightened, and Medina the honoured; wherefore, it says, let such Christians as come there, be imprisoned, and their effects confiscated; and let no one endeavour to set them free."

I little imagined, says Rooke, when I made those observations respecting the oppression and tyranny of the Egyptian government; that I should, in my own person, so soon give proof of what I have advanced; but, thus it happened, and the following adventure which I met with, may serve to give a tolerable idea of its equity.

In one of my rides about the city, I was met by a party of Turkish soldiers, who accosting me, and some European friends who were of my party, said, that by order of their master, Mustapha Bey, they were come in search of us, and that they must immediately conduct us to him. We did not at all relish this salutation, and would gladly have been excused the honour of paying a visit to the Bey, but having no alternative, we proceeded quietly under their escort. We were not, it may be readily supposed, extremely comfortable in this situation; and, in our way, endeavoured to divine the cause of it, but in vain: we found we had nothing else to do than to submit patiently, and wait the event. Being arrived at the Bey's palace, my companions were set at liberty, and I only detained; one of my friends, however, stayed with me to act as interpreter, and plead my cause. We were now ushered into the presence-chamber, and found this potentate sitting cross-legged on a carpet, smoaking a pipe seven or eight feet long; he was a middle aged man, rather corpulent, had a black and bushy beard that reached below his breast; and his countenance was handsome, although stern and severe; his myrmidons, who were bearded like himself, stood in a circle round him, into the midst of which we were introduced.

The Bey, being informed that I was the person he had summoned, surveyed me attentively; and, with an imperious tone of voice, pronounced my crime, and my sentence, in the same breath; telling me an Armenian merchant having represented to him, that an Englishman, who had passed through Cairo two years before, owed him a sum of money, his orders were, that I should immediately discharge the debt incurred by my countryman. I heard, with astonishment, this extraordinary charge, and verdict; and, in reply, endeavoured to explain the hardship, and injustice of such a proceeding; telling him, that in the first place, I doubted much whether the debt claimed by the Armenian was just; and, in the second, supposing it was, I did not consider myself, by any means, bound to discharge it; but all endeavours to exculpate myself, on the principles of reason or justice, were totally useless, since he soon removed all my arguments by a short decision; which was, that without further ceremony, I must either consent to pay the money, or remain prisoner in his castle. I began then to enquire what the sum was, which the Armenian pretended to be due to him, and found it to be near five hundred pounds; at which price, high as it was, I believe I should have been induced to have purchased my liberty, had not my friend advised me to the contrary, and given me hopes that it might be obtained without it; recommending me rather to suffer a temporary confinement, than submit to so flagrant an extortion. Accordingly I protested against paying the money, and was conducted, under a guard, into a room where I remained in arrest.

It was about noon, the usual time of dining in this country, and a very good pilau, with mutton, was served up to me; in short, I was very civily treated in my confinement, but still it was a confinement; and, as such, could not fail of being extremely unpleasant; my only hopes were founded in the good offices of an Italian merchant, whose services to me, and many of my countrymen, who had been embroiled in affairs of the like nature here, deserve our warmest gratitude.

My apartment was pleasantly situated, with a fine view of the Nile, and a rich country; but I should have enjoyed the prospect much more, upon another occasion. On a kind of lawn, shaded with trees, in front of the castle, two or three hundred horses stood at picquet, richly caparisoned, belonging to the Bey and his guards. His principal officers and slaves came to visit me; and, in talking over my case, they agreed it was very hard; but, to comfort me, said that their master was a very good prince, and would not keep me long confined. I found several of them pleasant, liberal minded men, and we conversed together very sociably, through my Arabian servant, who remained with me.

The people in this country always sleep after dinner, till near four o'clock; they then rise, wash and pray: that time of prayer is called by them Asser, and is the common hour of visiting; the beys then give audience, and transact business: Mustapha Bey now sent for me again; and, seeming to be in good humour, endeavoured to coax me into a payment of the demand he made; but I continued firm in my refusal; on which he changed the subject, and, smiling, asked me if I should not like to be a Mussulman; telling me it was much better than being a Christian, and hinted that I should be very well off, if I would become one of them, and stay at Cairo; using likewise other arguments to effect my conversion, and all this in a jocular laughing manner. While he was proceeding in his endeavours to bring me over to his faith, two officers came from Ibrahim, the chief Bey, to procure my release. My worthy friend, the Italian merchant, having very good interest with him, had made application in my behalf, and, in consequence, these two ambassadors were sent to request that Mustapha Bey would deliver me up to them; but he seemed by no means inclinable so to do; and, resuming his former sternness of look, remained for some time inexorable; till at length, wrought on by their entreaties, he consented to let me go, observing, at the same time, whenever he had an opportunity of making a little money, Ibrahim Bey always interfered, and prevented him: a pretty observation! From which may be inferred, that they look upon us as fair plunder; and do not give themselves much trouble to find out a pretence to found their claims.

The English seem particularly to have been victims to this species of rapine, owing to the facility with which they always submit to it; and many of our wealthy countrymen, having returned by this road, laden with the spoils of India, these beys have frequently fleeced them; allured by the temptations of that wealth, which these Nabobs are so fond of displaying: various are the instances of extortion practised on them. Our readers may form an idea of all, when we mention one of a gentleman, who passing by Suez, in his way to England, that he might not be detained there, by the searching of his baggage, prevailed on the custom-house officers to dispense with it, and only put their seals on his trunks, to exempt them from being visited till his arrival at Cairo; where being come, fatigued with his journey, and impatient to shift himself, he would not wait for the inspection of the officers, but broke the seals to get his clothes, and paid a thousand pounds for the luxury of a clean shirt, an hour before he otherwise would have had it.

When I hear, says Rooke, of the heavy fines that have been levied on my countrymen, in their passage through Egypt, I consider myself happy in being quit for a confinement of only a few hours, and fifty pounds given in fees, to different people employed in the task of procuring my release.

From Mustapha Bey's palace, I was conducted to that of the chief Bey, being attended by an officer of the former, who was sent with me; Ibrahim was sitting in a small apartment, richly furnished, smoaking his pipe, and was accompanied by two other Turks; he appeared to be between forty and fifty years of age, middle sized and handsome; and is reckoned a man of ability. He addressed himself to Mustapha Bey's officer, inveighing severely against the conduct of his master; then, turning to me, said I might depend on his protection, during the remainder of my stay in that country; and, finding my purpose was to go down the Nile, and to Alexandria, he gave me a passport to exempt me from any trouble, or molestation I might receive on my passage. Having made my proper acknowledgments to this prince for his civilities, I retired, not a little rejoiced, to have regained my liberty.

Owing to this kind of rapine and extortion, practised by these potentates, and likewise to the firman of the Grand Signior forbidding European ships to approach the port of Suez; this channel of communication, betwixt Europe and India, has been shut for some years past; a circumstance extremely detrimental to us, since it is by far the most expeditious way of conveying intelligence; and, by proper management, might still be made use of for that purpose; some presents, annually sent by the India company, to the chief Bey, who is in fact the king of the country, would ensure safety to their servants, who might pass charged with dispatches; and when it is known that the passage to Madras has been made, by way of Suez, in sixty-three days, it is surprizing such an advantage should be overlooked, if possible to be obtained; not that it would be adviseable to make it a common road for passengers, or permit any other ships to go to Suez, but small packet boats, for the purpose of conveying dispatches; for otherwise a door would be opened to a contraband trade, which would prove extremely prejudicial to the commerce of the India company, and the revenue of our government.

CHAP. X. History and Government.

THE Egyptians are certainly a very ancient nation, though far from being so ancient as they pretend, when they give us a catalogue of princes, who, according to their account, must have existed several thousand years before the creation; but, as it has been suggested by some writers, if the Egyptians, by years, intended only periodical revolutions of the moon, and not of the sun, their difference of reckoning may be more easily reconciled. Besides, it has been long observed, of the Chinese, and other kingdoms who remount their origin so very high, that they give no authentic account of these pretended ancient times, but refer the first rise, of all arts and sciences, to the same date with ourselves.

It is, however, generally agreed, that the princes of the line of Pharaoh were the first sovereigns of Egypt. They are supposed to be descended from Cham, the son of Noah, who was the Jupiter Ammon of the Egyptians, and Misraim, his grandson, their great deity Osiris. The line of Pharaoh reigned in Egypt till it was conquered by Cambyses, two hundred and fifty years before Christ. In the possession of the kings of Persia it continued till the time of Darius, when it was taken from them by Alexander the Great. At his death the province of Egypt fell to the share of Ptolemy, whose successor, ever after retained that name. In this line it continued till the famous Cleopatra ascended the throne, the wife and sister of Ptolemy Dionysius, the last king. After the death of Cleopatra, who had been mistress, successively, to Julius Coesar and Mark Anthony, Egypt became a Roman province for near seven hundred years, when the Saracens took it in 640. The famous library of Alexandria, said to have consisted of 700,000 volumes, was collected by Ptolemy Philadelphus, son of the first Ptolemy, and the same prince caused the old testament to be translated into Greek; this translation is known by the name of the Septuagint version.

During the Crusades, in the twelfth century, Egypt was governed by Noreddin, whose son, the famous Saladin, was so dreadful to the christian adventurers, and retook from them Jerusalem. This prince instituted the military corps of Mamluks, who soon after massacred the descendants of Saladin, and usurped the government into their own hands. These Mamluks changed the form of government into a republic. They elected, however, a chief, in whom they consided great authority. Egypt continued in their possession till 1517, when Sultan Selim made a conquest of the country, and it has ever since been tributary to the Turks.

But before we speak of the present government in Egypt, it may be necessary to give some clear and precise idea of the Mamluks. This appellation is bestowed on children, who, carried off by merchants, or banditti from Georgia, Circassia, Natolia, and the various provinces of the Ottoman empire, are afterwards sold in Constantinople and Grand Cairo. The grandees of Egypt, who have a similar origin, bring them up in their houses, and destine them to succeed to their dignities. These foreigners, at present, can alone enjoy the title of Bey, and fill the offices of state. The law is so precise, that even the son of a Bey cannot be raised to this eminent station; he, therefore, usually embraces the profession of arms. The divan assigns him a proper maintenance, and names him son of the country.

The Mamluks are, most of them, born of christian parents; but are forced to embrace Mahometanism, and suffer circumcision. They have an excellent education given them, so that they may be capable of exercising the offices they are to fill. They rise usually by their merit, through the various trusts in the house of the Beys, till they arrive at the post of Cachef, or Lieutenant of the Beys; when they govern the towns dependent on their patrons; at which time they are permitted to buy Mamluks, who follow their fortune, and become their companions and instruments. Their next rise is to the dignity of Bey, which gives them a seat among the four and twenty members of the Divan, or council of the republic.

On seeing them subsist in this country for several centuries, says Volney, we should be led to imagine their race is preserved by the ordinary means; but, if their first establishment was a singular event, their continuation is not less extraordinary. During five hundred and fifty years that there have been monarchs in Egypt, not one of them has left subsisting issue; there does not exist one single family of them in the second generation; all their children perish in the first, or second descent. Almost the same thing happens to the Turks; and, it is observed, they can only secure the continuance of their families by marrying women who are natives, which the Mamluks have always disdained.

The wives of the Mamluks are like them, slaves brought from Georgia, Mongrelia, &c. Their beauty is a constant topic among us, and we must believe it on the credit of fame. But a European, says Volney, who has only been in Turkey, has no right to give his testimony on the subject. These women are more invisible here than the others; and to this circumstance their reputation for beauty is greatly owing. A lady, wife of one of the French merchants at Cairo, who, by dealing in laces and Lyons' stuffs, had access to all the harems, assured me, says Volney, that among a thousand, or twelve hundred chosen women, she had seen, she had not found ten real beauties. But the Turks are not difficult; provided a woman be fair, she is handsome; and if she be fat, she is enchanting; "her countenance is like the full moon, her haunches are like cushions," say they, to express the superlative of beauty. They may be said to measure them by the quintal. They have besides a proverb worthy the notice of naturalists; "Take a fair female for thy eyes, but for pleasure an Egyptian."

Let the naturalist explain why men well formed, and married to healthy women, are unable to naturalize on the banks of the Nile, a race born at the foot of mount Caucasus; And let it be remembered, at the same time, that the plants of Europe in that country are equally unable to continue their species! Some may refuse to believe this extraordinary fact, but it is no less certain, nor does it appear to be new. The ancients have made observations of the same nature; thus when Hippocrates asserts that, among the Scythians and Egyptians, all the individuals resemble each other, though they are like no other nations; when he adds that in the countries, inhabited by these two races of men, the climate, seasons, aliments and soil, possess a uniformity no where else to be found, does he not recognise that kind of exclusion? When such countries impress so peculiar a character on every thing native, is it not a reason why they should reject whatever is foreign? It seems then, that the only means of naturalizing animals and plants, would be to contract an affinity with the climate, by alliance with the native species; and this the Mamluks have constantly refused. The means, therefore, by which they are perpetuated and multiplied, are the same by which they were first established; that is to say, when they die, they are replaced by slaves brought from their original country.

Sultan Selim having conquered Egypt, and defeated the Mamluks, caused their king to be hanged at the gates of Cairo. This barbarous action, disgusted them so much, that they only waited his departure again to take up arms. Reflecting afterwards on his error, that he might gain their good-will, he granted them very peculiar privileges, specified in a treaty, and made very little change in their form of government.

The four and twenty Beys were to govern as before; except, that a bashaw from the Porte was to reside at Grand Cairo, with whom it was required they should deliberate, from time to time, on the state of public affairs; but if he attempted to infringe their privileges, they might suspend him. They were likewise to furnish a stipulated body of troops to the Ottoman court, if it were attacked; and further, to pay a certain tribute; but, in other respects, they were left entirely to their own government.

The Beys feel the power they possess, which they dreadfully abuse. The pacha remains no longer than while he is subservient to their designs; should he dare to speak in defence of his master's interests, or those of the Egyptians, he becomes a state-criminal: the divan assembles, and he is expelled. The following is the manner in which they receive and eject those representatives of the Grand Signior.

When a new pacha lands at Alexandria, he gives notice of his arrival to the council of the republic; some of the Beys, of most address, are then sent to compliment him, bring him presents, and profess great submission. While they attend on him, they artfully sound his inclinations, and endeavour to learn from his own mouth, or that of his officers, what are the orders he brings. Should they find them inimical to their own purposes, they expedite a courier to the chief Bey, who assembles the divan, and the pacha is forbidden to proceed further. They then write to the Grand Signior, that the new governor comes with hostile intentions, and such as will excite rebellion among his faithful subjects; and request his recall, which is sure to be complied with. When the chiefs of the republic believe they have nothing to fear from the pacha, they invite him to Grand Cairo; the deputies place him in a sumptuous galley, and escort him all the way. The attendant boats are elegantly tilted, and filled with musicians. He advances slowly at the head of the fleet; no vessel being allowed to pass that of the pacha. Those, who are unfortunately making a voyage up the Nile, are obliged to follow in his suite. He stops at Helai, a small village below Boulac, where the Sheik El Balad, i. e. chief Bey, comes himself to receive him, or deputes several fangiacs. The heads of the republic again congratulate him on his landing; the Aga of the Janissaries presents him the keys of the castle, prays him to make it his residence, and he is conducted in pomp through the city. I have seen, says Savary, and therefore can describe, the entrance of a pacha.

The various corps of infantry, with their noisy music, march first in two files, their colours waving; the cavalry follow. About five or six thousand horsemen advance in good order, their clothing made of very bright stuffs, while their floating robes, enormous mustachoes, and long lances of shining steel, give them a majestic and warlike appearance. Then come the Beys, magnificently clothed, and attended by their Mamluks, mounted on Arabian horses, highly mettled, and adorned with housings, embroidered in gold and silver; the bridles of those of the chiefs are bedecked with fine pearls and precious stones, and their saddles with glittering gold. The various retinues of each Bey were very elegant; the beauty of the youth, the richness of their dress, and their excellent horsemanship, all together formed a very agreeable sight. The pacha closed the march, advancing gravely, preceded by two hundred horsemen, a band of music, and four led horses, slowly guided by slaves on foot, covered with housings, most richly embroidered in gold and pearls, thrt trailed on the ground. The pacha, mounted on a beauteous barb, wore a cluster of large diamonds in his turban, which darted back the sun's rays. This procession may convey some idea of the oriental pomp and magnificence of the ancient monarchs of Asia, when they shewed themselves in public. It began about eight and lasted till noon.

On the morrow the pacha assembled the divan, and invited the beys to be present: he sat on a raised seat with a barred window, like the Grand Signior. His Kiaya, or lieutenant, read the orders of the Porte, and the sangines, profoundedly bowing, promised obedience in all things which should not infringe their rights This ended, a collation was served; and, when the assembly rose, the pacha presented the Sheik El Balad with a rich furred robe, and a horse magnificently caparisoned; also caftans to the other Beys. Such is the ceremony of installation for a pacha.

His office is a kind of banishment; he cannot leave his palace, without the permission of the Sheik El Balad, but is a state-prisoner; who, in the midst of splendor, cannot avoid feeling the weight of his chains. His revenue amounts to near 125,000l. and is raised from the duties paid at Suez, on the merchandize of the Red Sea.

The ambition of the Beys presents him with an abundant source of wealth; when, possessing political cunning, and a knowledge of his own means, he has the art to sow dissention among the chiefs, and form parties. Each will exert their endeavours to obtain his interest, and wealth will pour in upon him. The sangiacs, named by the divan also, purchase a confirmation of their dignity from the pacha; and the inheritance of those who die without issue appertains to him.

Thus may the Grand Signior's representative maintain himself in office, and become immensely rich, provided he proceeds with circumspection; for the ground on which he stands is so slippery, that the least wrong step occasions his fall; and some unforeseen circumstances will often counteract his utmost policy. Should some young, audacious sangiac vanquish the party, favoured by the pacha, and arrive at the dignity of Sheik El Balad, he assembles the council, and the governor is ignominiously expelled. His order to depart is entrusted to an officer cloathed in black; who, carrying it in his bosom, advances into the audience chamber; and, taking up a corner of the carpet which covers the sofa, bows profoundedly, and says Insel Pacha, i. e. come down Pacha; which, having said, he departs. The governor is immediately obliged to pack up and retire, in the space of four-and-twenty hours, to Boulac, where he waits for orders from Constantinople. His person is generally safe; but, should the prevailing Beys have complaints against him, they make him render a severe account of his administration, and the presents he has received; after which they divide the spoil. The council of the republic elects a Caimakan, during the interregnum, to supply his place, till the arrival of a new pacha.

An attempt was made, a few years since, to deprive the Ottoman Porte of its authority over Egypt, by Ali Bey, whose father was a Greek priest, of one of the most distinguished families of the country. Having turned Mahometan, and being a man of abilities and address, he rendered himself extremely popular in Egypt. A false accusation having been made against him, soon after he was raised to the dignity of Bey, orders were sent from Constantinople to take off his head. Being apprized of the design, he had the messenger put to death, who brought the order, and soon found means to put himself at the head of an army; and, being also assisted by the dangerous situation to which the Turkish empire was reduced, in consequence of the war with Russia, he boldly mounted the throne of the ancient sultans of Egypt. But not content with this, he also laid claim to Syria, Palestine, and that part of Arabia which belonged to them.

The occasion of his assuming the sovereignty of Egypt is related by Savary as follows. In 1768, the Russians declared war against the Turks, and sent their fleets into the Mediterranean. Ali, who was Sheik El Balad, according to the ancient stipulation, when the country was conquered from the Mamluks, raised twelve thousand men to assist the Porte, which circumstance his enemies endeavoured to turn to his destruction. They wrote to the divan, that the troops he had assembled were to serve in the Russian armies, with whom he had entered into an alliance, and the latter was signed by several of the Beys. The calumny was credited, and a Capigi-bachi immediately sent, with four attendants, for the head of Ali. Happily for him he had a faithful agent in the council, who instantly sent off two couriers, the one by land, the other by sea, to advertise him of the treachery. They outstripped the messengers of the Grand Signior, and Ali sent for Tentaoui, one of his confidents, informed him of the secret, ordered him to assume the disguise of an Arab, and, with twelve Mamluks, wait the arrival of the messengers from Constantinople twenty miles from Cairo, seize their dispatches, and put them to death. Tentaoui performed his mission: having waited some time at the appointed place, he saw the Capigi-bachi and his attendants approach, seized them, and their fatal order, murdered them, and buried their bodies in the sand.

Having the firman in his possession, Ali assembled the Beys, and after reading it to them, addressed them in the following animated speech: "How much longer, says he, shall we be the victims of Ottoman despotism? What faith can we put in the treaites of the Porte? Not many years since, several of the Beys were assassinated, contrary to all justice; some of you were present, and bear about with you the marks of that massacre. The marble we tread is red with the blood of four of your colleagues. To day I am to die, and to-morrow, the man who shall supply my place. The hour is come for us to shake off this tyrant's yoke; who, violating our privileges and laws, dispenses with our lives at his pleasure. Let us unite ourselves with Russia, and free the republic from the dominions of a barbarous master. Grant me your aid, and I will be responsible for the liberty of Egypt."

This produced its wished for effect. Sixteen Beys, who were of Ali's party, unanimously declared for 〈…〉 on the Grand Signior; and the rest, un •••• 〈…〉 oppose, promised every assistance in their power The pacha was ordered to quit Egypt in four and twenty hours, and the standard of independence was immediately raised.

Whilst Ali was engaged in subduing the neighbouring provinces of Arabia and Syria, he was no less attentive to the establishment of a regular form of government, and introducing order into a country that had long been the seat of anarchy and confusion. His views were equally extended to commerce, for which purpose he gave great encouragement to merchants, and abolished some scandalous restraints and indignities to which they were before exposed. His great design, it is supposed, was to make himself master of the Red Sea; to make Suez a free port, particularly for the Europeans, and to make Egypt once more the great centre of commerce. The conduct and views of Ali shewed an extent of thought and ability; and bespoke a mind equal to the founding of an empire, but he was not finally successful.

Though at the summit of grandeur, Ali forgot not his parents. Having made his peace with the Porte, he ordered one of his generals, who was going into Natolia to bring back his father and family. Hearing of their arrival at Boulac, he went to meet them with a numerous train; and, as soon as he perceived the aged Daoud he descended from his horse, ran and fell on his knees, and kissed his feet. The father wept with joy; it was the happiest day of his life, and Ali embraced his sister and nephew. This tender scene over, he conducted them to his palace, and the Mamluks contended who should wash the feet of their master's father. When they had cloathed him in magnificent robes, he was led into the harem, and received the most affectionate caresses from the wife of Ali. Daoud, mounted on a fine horse, was conducted to the hall of the divan; the beys, and even the pacha, complimented and made him presents. After remaining seven months in Egypt, he wished to return to his native country, whither Ali sent him, on board a vessel loaded with riches. Incidents like these, which have a great resemblance to the history of Joseph, when he went to meet his father in Goshen, are often renewed in Egypt. Ali's wife was a female slave from Red Russia, who was very beautiful; her flaxen hair reached to the ground; her figure was tall and noble; her complexion of the purest white; her eyes blue, and her eye-brows black; but these were the least of the treasures which nature had bestowed on the youthful Maria; her mind was superior to her form. Her unhappy fate never could make her condescend to gratify the desires of her master; he spoke of his power; she shewed she was free, though in chains; he wished to dazzle by his splendor, but she was insensible to pomp and grandeur. Charmed with a haughtiness so congenial to his nature, he became her lover and offered her his hand, if she would renounce christianity; but, though not without affection for a man who had treated her according to her deserts, she still had the fortitude to refuse. At last he permitted her to retain her religion, provided she would not profess it publickly, and obtained her consent; and so great was his love for her, that he never had any other wife. Ali was, for a long time, very fortunate in all his enterprizes against the neighbouring Asiatic pachas, whom he repeatedly defeated; but was afterwards deprived of the kingdom of Egypt, by the base and ungrateful conduct of Abou Dahab, who had long meditated his ruin. This was a slave for whom Ali had a particular affection. He had raised him to the dignity of Bey; and to give him a still further proof of his affection, gave him afterwards his sister in marriage. Aspiring, however, to the sovereign power, he thought no means unjust by which he might rid himself of his patron. The Beys of his faction, knowing his avarice, gave him considerable sums to rid them of Ali; but he, conscious of his brother's vigilance, the love of his adherents, and the difficulties of his enterprize, kept the gold, and waited a more favourable opportunity; but to ingratiate himself, and blind his friend still farther, he discovered the conspiracy. The consequences exceeded his expectations, and the affections of Ali, for the man to whom he thought he owed his life, became excessive. Abou Dahab, however, never lost sight of his detestable intents, but endeavoured to seduce Tentaoui, and offered him twelve thousand guineas, to assassinate his patron, when they were playing at chess. Tentaoui immediately informed Ali of the proposal, at which so much was he prejudiced in his favour, that he did but laugh. Failing in this project, he tried another, and wished to force a wife to poison a brother she loved, in a cup of coffee. She rejected the proposal with horror, and sent his faithful slave to conjure Ali to keep on his guard against Abou, as his most dangerous enemy. So many warnings ought to have rendered him suspicious, but his affection was extreme; nor could he credit crimes his heart disclaimed; besides, the benefits he had conferred, rendered him confident.

The treachery of this villain, and of another of his generals, Ismael, whom he had entrusted with the command of his troops, and who went over to Abou, preyed upon his mind; he shuddered at the very name of Abou Dahab, and his blood boiled in his veins. Being obliged in consequence, to fly Egypt, he retreated to the dominions of Sheik Daher, at Acre, where he collected an army to make head against Abou. This agitation, and the fatigue of a painful march, occasioned him to fall dangerously ill. When he came in sight of Abou Dahab's army, he arranged his troops in order of battle, and ordered himself to be carried into his tent, for he was too weak to sit on horseback. Victory had declared for Ali, when the Mograbians, mercenary troops▪ who fight only for the lust of gain, seduced by the magnificent promises of Abou, went over to his side, and the face of fortune was changed. The flying rallied; and, having now only a small army to encounter, surrounded them on all sides, and made great slaughter. His friends then rode up to his tent, and conjured him to fly to Acre. Ali answered, fly my friends, I command you; as for me, my hour is come. Scarcely had they quitted him, before the lieutenant of Abou, entering, sabre in hand, Ali firing his pistol, ended him. Bathed in his blood, for two soldiers had before wounded him, he fought like a lion; when another from behind bringing him down with his sabre, they fell upon him, and carried him to the tent of the victor. The traitor, perfidious to the last, shed feigned tears, at beholding him thus, and endeavoured to console him. Ali turned away his eyes and spake not a word. He died a week after of his wounds; though some said he was poisoned by his infamous brother-in-law; if so, this was the completion of his atrocious acts; nor can we reflect, without shuddering on the horrors which ambition impels men to commit.

Ali was above the middle size; his eyes were large and full of fire, his manner was noble and winning, and his character frank and generous. Nature had endowed him with unconquerable fortitude, and an elevated genius. He fell the victim of friendship, and his misfortunes were the consequence of having nurtured a traitor, who profited by his benefactions to embitter and rob him of life. Had Russia accepted the offers he made her, and granted him engineers, with three or four thousand men, he would have subdued Syria and Egypt, and yielded the commerce of Arabia and India into the hands of his ally. He perished at the age of forty-five. The Egyptians wept his death, and saw themselves again the victims of miseries, from which he had delivered them.

Abou Dahab was, one morning soon after, found dead in his bed; whether by poison or otherwise, is uncertain.

CHAP. XI. Of their Antiquities.

BEFORE we quit Egypt, it will be necessary to speak of the monuments that are most worthy of the curiosity of those who travel into this country; we mean those pyramids, that have been ranked formerly in the number of the seven wonders of the world, that are admired still, and that extend from Cairo to Meduun.

These superb monuments are found only in Egypt; for though there is one at Rome, which serves for a tomb to C. Cestius, it can be considered only as a mere imitation; and the least of those in Egypt surpasses it much in grandeur. Thus it does not hinder us from being able to assert, that pyramids are found only in Egypt.

Another general position is, that we see pyramids only between Cairo and Meduun. Some, indeed, have advanced that there were pyramids in Upper Egypt; but they have been deceived, says Norden, by false memoirs, or they were willing out of vain glory, to have supposed to have penetrated places where no one else has been, and to have seen what no one has since discovered.

The pyramids are not situated in plains, as is generally supposed; but, upon the rock, that is at the foot of the high mountains, which accompany the Nile in its course, and which make the separation between Egypt and Libya. They have been all raised with with the same intention, that is, to serve for sepulchres; but their architecture is extremely different, with regard to the distribution, the materials, and the grandeur.

Some are open; others ruined; and the greatest part of them are closed; but there is none of them which has not been damaged in some of its parts.

It is easily conceived that they could not have been all raised at the same time. The prodigious quantity of materials, that it was necessary to collect, renders the supposition extremely improbable. The perfection, with which the last are built, shews it in like manner, as they surpass the first, very much, in grandeur and magnificence. All that can be advanced for certain is, that their fabric is of the most remote antiquity, and even more early than the times of the most ancient historians, whose writings have been handed down to us. That which these authors assert, of the time of the building of the pyramids, is founded on traditions more fabulous than probable. It is a thing as wonderful as it is certain, that they subsist to our time; though the epoch of their foundation was lost, even at the time that the first Greek philosophers travelled into Egypt.

If any one should think of maintaining, that the most ancient pyramids must have been founded at the same time as the tower of Babel, the notion would be thought a little extravagant. But the pyramids would, at least, have this advantage, that they subsist at present; but there remain scarce any footsteps of that ancient tower.

It appears probable, says Norden, that the origin of the pyramids even preceded that of the hieroglyphics. And as they had no longer the knowledge of those characters, at the time when the Persians made the conquest of Egypt, we must throw back the first epoch of the pyramids, into times so remote in antiquity, that vulgar chronology would find it difficult to fix the aera of their date.

If we conjecture that the pyramids, even the latest, have been raised before they had the use of hieroglyphics, we do not make the assertion without some grounds to go upon. Who can persuade himself that the Egyptians would have left such superb monuments, without the least hieroglyphic inscription—They who were profuse of hieroglyphics, upon all edifices of any importance? Now there are none to be perceived, either in the inside, or outside of the pyramids, nor even on the ruins of the temple of the second and third pyramid. Is not this a proof, that the origin of the pyramids is antecedent to that of the hieroglyphics, which are, however, considered as the first characters used in Egypt.

There runs among the people in Egypt, a tradition, that there were anciently in this country giants; and that they raised without much difficulty, the pyramids, temples, and vast palaces, whose remains occasion at present, our admiration.

This fable scarces deserves to be confuted; its falsity appears at first sight. But to obviate entirely what might be said in its favour, we shall only observe, that if the country had been peopled by giants, the entrance of the caves, from whence they have drawn stones for these edifices, must have been greater than they are: that the gates of the ancient buildings, still subsisting, would have had in like manner more height and breadth, for the more easy going in, and coming out of the giants; and that the passages of the pyramids, so narrow at present, that scarce a man of the present time can drag himself along, when lying on his belly, would have been by no means proper for men of such a stature.

Besides, nothing gives a more just idea of the stature of the men of that aera, than the urn, or the Sarcophagus, in the greatest and last pyramid, nearest to Grand Cairo. This existing and irrefragable proof annihilates all those extravagant ideas, that might be formed of the existence of giants. It determines the size of the body of the prince, for whom the pyramid was built; and the passages of that pyramid further shew, that the workmen were not of larger size than the prince; since the entrance, and the egress, scarce give sufficient room for men of such a stature as they have at present.

The principal pyramids are at the South-east of Gaza; and, as several authors have pretended that the city of Memphis was built on this spot, they are universally denominated the pyramids of Memphis.

There are four which are more particularly the object of attention; for, though there are seven or eight others, at no great distance, yet they are not to be compared with these; especially since they have been opened, and almost entirely ruined. The four principal ones are almost upon the same diagonal line, and distant from each other about four hundred paces. The two most northerly pyramids are the largest, and have five hundred feet perpendicular height. The two others are much less; but have some peculiarities which occasion their being examined and admired.

The four faces, of all the pyramids, correspond precisely with the four cardinal points; the North, the South, the East, and the West. The situation of these, with their adjacent parts, shews in what manner they have been raised, upon the rock, at the foot of the mountains. The rock, not having been thoroughly even, has been smoothed by a chissel; and this artificial plain has a sloping on the North, and on the East sides, to give convenience for transporting the materials, necessary for the pyramids. This plain may have about eighty feet of elevation, above the horizon of the ground, which is always overflowed by the Nile; and it has a Danish league in circumference.

The most Northern of these great pyramids is the only one that is open; and, as it is the first met with, we shall begin with a description of it, and then proceed to the others.

The figure of a pyramid is so well known, that it would be superfluous to attempt describing it; we shall only observe that it is the most solid figure that it is possible to give to the main body of a building. There is no destroying it, but by beginning at the summit. It rests on a basis too firm to be attacked in that part; and whoever should attempt it would find as much difficulty, as there was in raising it.

The external part of the pyramid is chiefly built of great square stones, laid upon each other, without cramps, cut out of the rock along the Nile; and where, even at this day, we see the caves from whence they have taken them out.

These stones are nothing near so hard as might be imagined, on account of their having subsisted so long a time. They owe their preservation, properly, to the climate where they are, which is not subject to frequent rains. Notwithstanding this advantage, it may be observed, on the North side, that they are rotten.

In the centre of the pyramid is a chamber, which contains a tomb, supposed to be that of Cheops, king of Egypt, founder of the pyramid; being one entire piece of marble, hollowed, and uncovered at the top, which sounds like a bell, on being struck. There are no signs of any corpse having been laid in it. The interior part of this sarcophagus is six feet in length, and two in depth and breadth. It is not easy to conceive how this sarcophagus was brought into the place where it now stands; it being impossible that it could have entered by the narrow passages which lead to this chamber. It is therefore reasonable to suppose there must have been some other entrance, so artfully stopped up, as not to be discerned. The dimensions of this chamber are thirty-four feet in length, seventeen in breadth, and nineteen and a half in height.

It is composed of more than two hundred layers of stone, that recede in proportion to their height; which is from four feet to two. Of these stones some are above thirty feet in length. These enormous steps must all be mounted to arrive at the summit. This summit, which, to those who view it from below, seems a point, is a fine platform, composed of ten or twelve massy stones; and each side of that platform sixteen or eighteen feet in length. The area of this edifice is computed to be about the dimensions of the largest square in London, and the height one third above that of St. Paul's.

The large one, according to Greaves's measurement, is seven hundred feet square, covering about eleven acres of ground; the inclined plane is equal to the base, so that the angles and base make an equi-lateral triangle: the perpendicular height, as we have before observed, is five hundred feet. The apex is thirteen feet square.

With what majesty, says Savary, do these mountains of man rise to the regions of air! Awful in their age, how often has the rising sun enlightened them; scorched their burning sides at noon, and gilded them as he sat! During how many ages have they, keeping pace with the inconceivably swift motion of the earth, annually encircled this grand luminary! Man then has constructed durable edifices, and these edifices are tombs! Thousands of ages hence, if undisturbed by any grand revolution in the earth, travellers from enlightned nations, shall go to admire these vast monuments, and say Europe scarce had a few savages scattered over her forests, when a learned nation erected these superb mausoleums, toward the four cardinal points of heaven, as monuments of its piety and astronomical knowledge.

The other three pyramids, which are nearly of the same size, do not appear ever to have been opened.

Though an entrance has been discovered only into the largest pyramid, yet, most probably, there is a way into the others, and likewise apartments in them; since Strabo tells us that in the middle of the pyramids there is a stone, which may be taken out, to open a a passage to the tombs. Attempts have been made, but without effect, to discover an entrance into the second, a great breach appearing in one of the sides of it.

These four grand pyramids are surrounded by a number of other that are smaller; and which appear to have been opened.

Tavernier tells us, that the curiosity of strangers has been so great as to be desirous of visiting the interior parts of some of these pyramids; and that once, the fellow that shewed them took an opportunity to shut some Englishmen in, and leave them there to die with want, purposely to plunder them of their property. Their bodies were not removed, and soon after, another party, going on the same errand, attended by a new exhibiter, were struck motionless at the sight of the dead bodies of their countrymen. We trust this will be sufficient to caution travellers not to let their curiosity get the better of their prudence.

To the East of the second pyramid is the head of the great, and famous Sphinx, the whole body of which is buried in the sand, the top of the back only to be seen; which is above a hundred feet long, and is of a single stone, making part of the rock on which the pyramid rests. Its head rises about seven and twenty feet above the sands. Mahomet has taught the Arabs to hold all images of men, or animals, in detestation; and they have disfigured the face with their arrows and lances. The dimensions of this figure, according to Pliny, were as follow: the circumference of the head, one hundred and two feet; the length of the legs, one hundred and thirty-three feet; the height, from the bottom of the belly to the summit of the head, sixty-three feet; and the head and neck, twenty-seven feet. It is said to have been the tomb of Amasis; but is more famous on account of the enigmatical oracles delivered from it, to all who came thither to consult it; and from the ambiguous terms in which they were couched, have given rise to the proverbial expression, Sphinx's riddles, applied to any thing difficult to be solved. At the top of the head there was originally a hole, as likewise on the
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back, from whence issued the answers dictated by their priests, who were placed within.

What has been said, concerning the judgment we ought to form of the pyramids, may be applied to the labyrinth, which Herodotus assures us was still more surprizing than the pyramids. It was not so much one single palace, as a magnificent pile, composed of twelve palaces, regularly disposed, which had a communication with each other. Fifteen hundred rooms, interspersed with terraces, were ranged round twelve halls, and discovered no outlet to such as went to see them. There were the like number of buildings under ground. In order to visit the rooms, and halls of the labyrinth, it was necessary, as the reader will naturally suppose, for people to take the same precaution, as Ariadne made Theseus use, when he was obliged to go and fight the minotaur in the labyrinth of Crete.

This monument, says Savary, regarded by Pliny as the most astonishing effort of human genius, is no more to be found. Hereafter, when Europe shall have restored to Egypt the sciences it thence received, perhaps, the sands and rubbish, which hide the subterranean part of the labyrinth, will be removed, and precious antiquities obtained. If the dust of Herculaneum, an inconsiderable city, has preserved so many rarities, and instructive remains of art and antiquity, what may not be expected from the fifteen hundred apartments in which the archives of Egypt were deposited; since the government assembled here to treat of the most important affairs of religion and of state?

But the noblest and most wonderful of all the structures, or works of the kings of Egypt, was the lake of Moeris. Accordingly Herodotus considers it as vastly superior to the pyramids and labyrinth. This lake, according to the above writer, was six hundred and thirty stadia, or seventy-five leagues, in circumference, and three hundred feet deep. This work, the most useful and vast the earth ever contained, united every advantage, and supplied the deficiences of a low inundation, by detaining waters which would have been uselessly expended in the sea. History knows not a work so glorious; nor is it wonderful antiquity esteemed it above the pyramids and labyrinth; for, with the grandeur of the enterprize, it included the happiness of the people. Thus the Egyptians, who detested the kings by whom they were forced to remove mountains, that pyramids might be raised, blessed the memory of Moeris, and his name is everlasting; while the names of the founders of the pyramids are forgotten.

In sailing up the Nile, from Girge to Essuan, opposite the Carnac, and about a league from the Nile, are to be seen two colossal statues. The first seems to represent a man, and the second a woman. In other respects they are both of the same size, and that size is prodigious. They are about fifty feet high, from the bases of the pedestal to the summit of the head. They are fitting on stones, almost cubical, fifteen feet high, and as many in breadth, including in them the Isiac figures; which seem for ornament to the two corners of each stone. The back part of each stone is higher than the fore part, by a foot and a half.

The pedestals are each five feet high, thirty-six and a half long, and nineteen and a half broad. The distance between the two statues is twenty-one paces.

The breasts and legs of these statues are covered with abundance of Greek and Latin inscriptions, which have been engraven on them since they were made, and in the time of the Romans. The purport of these inscriptions is, to signify that the voice of Memnon has been heard by those persons, whose names were affixed to them.

On the North side of these colossuses are some ruins, which no doubt are the remains of the palace of Memnon. Among these ruins is the fragment of a colossus, thrown down and half buried. The upper part is wanting, and it appears that violence has been employed to separate it. All the body of this colossus was of a single piece of black granite marble. Its pedestal is, in some measure, entire, and we saw on it some hieroglyphics; such as knives, semi-circles, and other figures. The rest of this colossus, says Norden, is so disfigured and dismembered, that it was not possibel for me to take an exact measure of it. I imagine, however, that its height is about twenty feet. All these marks, he adds, seem to indicate, that it is here we must seek for the vocal statue of Memnon, which Strabo, Pausanias, Philostratus, Lucian, Juvenal, Tacitus, and divers other ancient authors. Greek and Latin, have mentioned. As most of these authors relate that the statue of Memnon gave a certain sound, at the rising of the sun, I was curious to strike with a key, upon what remains of this colossal figure; but as the whole is solid, it does not give any more sound than another block of granite which is sunk in the ground.

The statue of Memnon had a lyre in his hands, which was said to sound at sun-rising; and some philosophers have supposed that the sun's light possesses a mechanical impulse, so as to produce such sounds. The statue was thrown down, and cut in two, by Cambyses, to discover its internal structure.—It stood in the temple of Memnon, at Thebes.

Strabo's account of this statue is as follows. Of two colossuses consisting of an entire stone, and near to each other, the one is still preserved; but of the other, the upper parts, from the seat, are fallen down; occasioned, as they say, by an earthquake. It is believed, that once every day, a noise, as of a stroke, but not a great one, is made from the remaining part, in the seat and base; and I being on the spot, with OELIUS GALLEY, and a multitude of his friends and soldiers attending him, about the first hour of the day heard a noise: but whether from the base, or the colossus, or whether it was made purposely, by some one of those that stood round the base, I cannot affirm. On account of the uncertainty of the cause, I am inclined to believe any thing, rather than this, that a sound is emitted from stones so disposed. Pape 816, Edit. Paris.

Between Cous and Essouan, in Upper Egypt, may be discovered the ruins of Thebes; the magnificence of which poets and historians have alike been eager to describe. The great Diospolis, says Diodorus Siculus, which the Greeks have named Thebes, was six leagues in circumference. The fame of its power and wealth, celebrated by Homer, has filled the world. Its gates, and the numerous vestibules of its temples, occasioned this poet to give it the name of Hecatompolis. Four principal temples are especially admired there; the most ancient of which was surprizingly grand and sumptuous. Of these, says Savary, the remains of one only are still extant It has eight entrances, three of which have each a sphinx, of enormous size, standing in front; with two colossal statues, on each side of the sphinx, which are cut from a single block of marble in the antique taste. Crossing these majestic avenues, we come to four porticos; each thirty feet wide, fifty-two in height, and a hundred and fifty in length. Beyond these porticos, the high walls, which form the first court of the temple, begin. The people entered at twelve gates. We then come to the second court, which leads to the temple; and, by its extent, equals the majesty of the building. Standing at this place, the astonished eye surveys the temple; the height of which is most surprizing, in all its immensity. Its walls of marble appear everlasting. Its roof, which rises in the centre, is sustained by eighteen rows of columns. Those standing under the most lofty part are thirty feet in circumference, and eighty in height; the others one third less.

The world does not contain a building, the character and grandeur of which more forcibly impress awe and majesty; it seems adequate to the high idea the Egyptians had formed of the supreme Being; nor can it be entered, or beheld, but with reverence. Its sides, both within and without, are loaded with hierglyphics and extraordinary figures. On the northern wall are representations of battles, with horses and chariots; one of which is drawn by stags. On the southern are two barks, with canopies, at the end of which the sun appears; the mariners guide them with poles; two men, seated at the stern, seem to direct their proceedings, and receive their homage.

The entrance, which fronts the temple, is greatly decayed; but, if we may judge from the obelisks which remain, it must have been most sumptuous. There are two of sixty feet in height, and twenty-one in circumference, at the base; and, a little farther, two others, of seventy-two feet in height, and thirty in circumference. Were the ground occupied by the various entrances, porticos and courts appertaining to the temple, measured, we shall find the whole was, at least, half a league in circumference; and that Diodorus Siculus was not deceived, when he allowed it that extent.

At the farther end of the plain, on which the ruins stand, is the village of Luxor; near which are the avenues and remains of another temple, still more ruinous than the first. Its extent is spacious, and so are its courts; which are entered under porticos, supported by columns forty feet high, without estimating the base buried under the sand. Pyramidical majestic gates, abounding in hieroglyphics, and rows of colossal marble figures, forty feet high, one third buried in the ground, all declare what the magnificence of the principal edifice, the scite of which is known by a hill of ruins, must have been. But nothing can give a more sublime idea of the grandeur, than the two obelisks which seem to have been placed there by giants, or the genii of fable. They are each a solid block of granite, seventy-two feet high, above the surface, and thirty-two in circumference; but, being sunk deep in the sand and mud, they may well be supposed ninety feet, from the base to the summit. The hieroglyphics they contain do honour to the sculptor; the hardness of the stone has preserved them from being injured by the air. Nothing can be more majestic than these obelisks. Egypt is the sole country in the world, where men have performed works like these; yet there is not a city on the face of the globe, where they would not become its greatest ornament.

Such are the most remarkable ornaments, found at present, on the eastern side of Thebes. Their very aspect would awaken the genius of a polished nation; but the Turks and Copts, crushed to death beneath an iron sceptre, behold them, without astonishment; and build huts, which can scarce screen them from the sun in their neighbourhood. These barbarians, if they want a millstone, do not blush to overturn a column, which supports a temple or portico, and saw it in pieces.

On the western side, of this once magnificent city, are the grottos, or tombs, of the ancient monarchs of the Thebais. Diodorus reckons forty-seven of them; but only nine are at present open, the rest having been closed up. The subterranean galleries, leading to them, are, in general, ten feet high, and as many in breadth. The walls and roof, cut in a white rock, preserve the brilliant polish of stucco. The second grotto is spacious, and much embellished, containing, on the ceiling, numerous golden stars; birds, painted in colours, which seem to have lost nothing of their freshness and brilliancy; and hieroglyphics, divided in columns, and engraved in the walls. Two men are seated beside the gate, the passage to which is a long gentle declivity. A block of red granite, sixteen feet high, ten long, and six wide, forms the sarcophagus of the king, who is sculptured in bas relief, on the top of the tomb, with an hieroglyphic inscription. There is one exceedingly fine grotto, which contains only a marble lid, ten feet long, and six wide; and in the further part of the most distant cavern is a human figure, with the arms crossing the breast; and two others, kneeling, one on each side.

These galleries and subterranean apartments, which go very far under the mountains, and a very small part of which are here described, are embellished by marble figures of men, birds, and various animals; some sculptured in bas relief, others cut hollow, and some painted in colours which are not to be effaced. These unintelligible characters, which contain the history of the times, conceal beneath their impenetrable veil, most interesting discoveries, and the most remarkable facts, relative to the monarchs of the Thebais, whose power extended as far as India. Torches are necessary in examining these labyrinths, into which the light of day cannot penetrate.

Such are the caverns where the bodies of kings repose, surrounded by silence and shades. A kind of religious terror is felt, while wandering through them; as if the presence of the living disturbed the dead in their asylums, where they have retired to rest in peaceful sleep.

Returning from these dark abodes, and proceeding South-east, the traveller soon meets with the remains of a temple; on the square pillows of which are statues, that have all had their heads broken off; each holding a sceptre in one hand, and a whip in the other. The remains of the buildings, belonging to this temple, cover a mile of ground. In one of
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the courts are parts of two statues of black marble, which were thirty feet high; in the other, the traveller stands in stupid amazement, at beholding a colossal figure extended on the ground, and broken near the middle. The space between the shoulders is one and twenty feet; the head eleven feet in length, and eighteen in circumference. This gigantic statue is only inferior in size to that of Memnon.

About half a league further are the ruins of Memnonium; where is the largest colossus of Egypt. The circumference of these ruins is about half a league. On entering them the traveller is struck with astonishment, at the sight of two gigantic figures, which seem like rocks; and are seated beside each other. Their pedestals are nearly equal; and formed from blocks of granite, thirty feet long, and eighteen wide. The smallest of these statues is also one single stone; the other, the largest in Egypt, is formed of five different pieces of granite, and broken in the middle. Some idea may be formed of the gigantic size of the grand colossus, when we are told that its feet alone are seven feet long. This statue, the half of which remains on its base, and which Strabo calls the statue of Memnon, uttered a sound at sun-rising, as hath before been observed. Several writers have spoken of it with enthusiasm, regarding it as one of the seven wonders of the world. A croud of Greek and Latin inscriptions, which are still legible, on the base and legs of the colossus, attest that princes, generals, governors, and men of all conditions have heard this miraculous sound.

Such are the remains of Thebes, and her hundred gates, the antiquity of which is lost in the obscurity of ages; and which still contain proofs of the profusion of arts in those most distant times. All here is sublime and majestic. Its kings seem to have acquired the glory of never dying, while their obelisks and colossal statues exist; and to have laboured only for immortality. They could preserve their memory against the efforts of time, but not against the barbarism of conquerors; those dreadful scourges of science and nations, which they have but too often erased from the face of the earth.

A DESCRIPTION OF ARABIA, FROM THE LATEST AUTHORS.

CHAP. I. Country, Climate, and Productions.

THIS is one of the most celebrated countries in the world, one of the largest provinces in Asia, and lies near the borders of Africa. Its boundaries, according to Cluverius, and other esteemed geographers, are, Babylon and the gulph of Persia, on the East; the Indian ocean, on the South; the Red Sea, with part of Egypt, on the West; and Palestine, Syria, and the river Euphrates, to the North. Its extreme length is about four hundred and thirty German leagues; but its greatest breadth is not more than three hundred and forty; and, in some parts, not above one hundred and eighty. It is situated between thirty-five and sixty degrees of Eastern longitude, and between twelve and thirteen degrees of North latitude.

Arabia is the ancient, as well as the modern name; though the people have been long called Saracens, or inhabitants of the desarts; Sarra, in their language, signifying a desart. Some derive the name of Arabia from Harrabi, a thief or robber, as they have been generally esteemed, ever since they were a nation, to the present time.

The modern division of this country is into six large provinces; the HEDSJAS, situated along the Arabian gulph, from Sinai to Yemen, and extending to the province of Nedsjed; the second is the YEMEN in general, which may be subdivided into the territories of the Iman of Sarra: a province which extends from the borders of Hedsjas, along the Arabian gulph; and from the Indian Sea, to Hadramaut. The other provinces are, HADRAMAUT, OMAN, LACHSA, and NEDSJED.

It was formerly divided into three parts, according to the nature of their respective soils, viz. Arabia Felix, Arabia Deserta, and Arabia Petraea. Arabia Felix, which is the South-east part, according to the present division, and now called Yemen, contained at least four parts, in five, of the whole. Arabia Deserta, which lies to the northward, is next in size; and Arabia Petraea, situated on the Isthmus of Suez, is the least. But the exact boundaries of this country, either ancient or modern, are very uncertain; or rather there are no precise boundaries; for the inland country, being under the government of a great number of Sheiks, or Arabian Princes, who march from place to place, and encamp where they can find water and pasture for their cattle, their respective dominions have scarce any fixed boundary; nor is it easy to say which part of the country belongs to one of these divisions, and which to another.

The seas, and promontories of Arabia, are, the Indian ocean, the gulph of Bassora and Ormus, the Red Sea, and the straits of Babelmandel.

The Red Sea, sometimes called the Arabian gulph, divides Arabia from Egypt and Ethiopia; but if taken in its largest extent, the name of the Red Sea was anciently given to all those seas, which border upon Arabia and Persia, from Africa to the East Indies. The reason of its being called the Red Sea, some attribute to the red mountains near it; others that the red sand of the coast gave it that name. It is called in scripture the sea of weeds, or rushes, the banks being overflowed with them in some places; but from whatever cause the name is derived, no sea has been more celebrated than this; first, from its having been the passage of the Iraelites through it; and secondly, from its having been the usual conveyance for the fine spices, and all the rich merchandize of the East, to Africa and Europe, for three thousand years, and upwards.

No country is more destitute of rivers: Chat, Pran, and Nagiran are the principal ones, neither of which are navigable; and some add the western branch of the Euphrates, which runs near the boundaries of this country. The mountains are those of Gebel, Ared, or the great mountains in the middle of the country; and those of Mount Sinai and Horeb, in Arabia Petraea.

A country which, like Arabia, extends from the twelfth, to the fifteenth degree of North latitude, and consequently situated, in part, between the tropics, presents the idea of a climate where the heat must be intense. In some of the provinces, says Nieuburk, the heat is intolerable. But it is in this country, as in many others, where the elevation of the ground, the situation of place, and the nature of the soil, occasion a great difference in the climate.

To comprehend this, we must form a just idea of the local situation of the country. Arabia may be considered as a country full of mountains, and surrounded, on all sides, by a vast extent of barren and sandy plains.

In these desarts, scattered with naked rocks, there is nothing to prevent the action of the sun, which burns all kinds of vegetables, and reduces the lands to parched sands. The drought is so great, that it often does not rain for three years together; and the rivers, which descend from the mountains, lose themselves in the sands, without being able to get to the sea. Were it not for these rivers, which overflow in the rainy season, and from which canals are dug to water the grounds, the farmers would not be able to obtain the smallest crop of corn. From observations made with good thermometers, says Nieuburk, we found that in these plains, as for example, at Loheya, Mocha, and Muscat, the heats were as violent as in the hotter countries.

The interior of this country presents a very different temperature. Long chains of mountains, very lofty, attract vapours; which, dissolving in copious rains, refresh the air, and animate vegetation. The cold, produced by the elevation of this mountainous part of the country, occasions snow there; which, however, does not last long. And while the inhabitants of the plains are overcome with the heat, those of the mountains are obliged to envelop themselves with their pelises.

The position of these mountains, in the midst of a country so much surrounded by sea, is also the cause of a phenomenon which is observed in the peninsula of the Ganges, intersected by mountains. This is the difference in the rainy seasons, which are regular in the countries situated between the tropics. In the western part of Arabia, in the Yemen, the rainy season is the more serviceable, as it begins in tbe middle of the month of June, and lasts till the middle of September, which are months when the heats are greatest; and where the earth, and its inhabitants, have most need of refreshment. In the eastern part of these mountains, near Maskat, these rains fall, from the middle of November, till the middle of February; and on the southern side of Arabia, the rainy season lasts from the middle of February, till the middle of April. Thus the rains appear to make the circuit of the peninsula, according to the impulse of the predominant winds, during each season.

This regularity in the rains makes the valleys very fertile and pleasant, which separate the chains of mountains. The people likewise, who inhabit these mountains, by breathing a fresh and pure air, are well-made, healthy and robust. Another advantage, which the Arabians derive, from the situation of their country, is, that they have the productions of different climates at the same time. In the plains are to be seen many vegetables, transplanted from India; and also a great number of the animals of hot countries. The mountains produce the plants of temperate climates, and the animals of those climates also thrive there. In short, Arabia may be considered as an assemblage of different climates, the real advantages of which are united in the space, contained between the Red Sea, and the Persian gulph.

The nature of the winds is very different in Arabia, according to the point from whence they come, and the space they blow over; so that the wind from the same point is moist or dry, in different places, when it traverses the ocean or the desarts. Upon the borders of the Persian gulph, the South-east wind brings with it a humid atmosphere; which causes a very violent and oppressive perspiration: the North-west wind, passing over the great desart, is much hotter, but not so relaxing. This latter wind, however, heats the metals in the shade, as if they were exposed to the sun; and its heat, when joined suddenly to that of the atmosphere, often suffocates both man and beast. The Arabians carry with them, when they travel, garlick and dried raisins, as remedies, with which they generally restore to life those persons, whom these hot gusts of wind have suffocated.

Notwithstanding its burning quality, this North-west wind serves to cool the drink of the Arabs, in the middle of summer. For this purpose they put the water in un-glazed pots, made of porous earth, which they hang up in some place, exposed to the current of this hot wind. The water, by this means, becomes very cool; a phenomenon known in almost all hot countries, and which philosophers of the present age very well account for, as proceeding from a sudden evaporation.

Another wind, of a still more dangerous kind, is the Samiel; rarely to be met with in Arabia, but very common on the frontiers. This wind is predominant only on the borders of the great desart, where the agitation carries with it inflamed vapours; which the action of the sun kindles in this burning sand. The places, most exposed to this dreadful wind, are, the borders of the Euphrates; and, sometimes, the environs of Mecca, when the North wind blows on the side of the desart. The effect of the Samiel is to suffocate, in an instant, like a flash of lightning, every living creature, within the space of its activity; and to occasion the bodies to become, in a short time, putrid. As it has been remarked that an almost immemediate putrefaction has taken place, in the bodies of animals, which have been killed by lightning, or by an electrical shock, it has been suggested that this wind might be occasioned, by some electrical fluid, which is so universally diffused; the Arabs can tell when this wind is coming, from an extraordinary redness in the air; and they pretend to remark, as it passes along, a smell of sulphur. Whether this be the case, or not, the only means for a person to preserve himself from the fatal effects of this singular wind, is, to throw himself on the ground, with his face downward, till the storm has blown over; the vapours of which always keep at some little distance from the ground.

The other meteors, in Arabia, are the same with those in all hot countries. A serene sky, seldom obscured by clouds, is the reason that there are few storms in the desarts. The air discharges itself of the electrical matter by balls of fire, and by the phenomenon of falling stars; which are frequently seen, and of a very considerable size. In the more desart parts, near the sea, the dews are very copious. Notwithstanding this humidity, the air is so pure, that it is usual for the inhabitants to sleep on the tops of their houses. There are, however, some parts, where a person, indulging himself in this custom, is liable to be seized with a fit of the palsy. But the inhabitants, from long experience, know what precautions they ought, in such cases, to take.

Arabia has the advantage of, nearly, one continued verdure. The trees, indeed, lose their leaves every year, and the annual plants wither, before they shoot out a-fresh; but the interval, between the fall of the leaves, and the trees budding again, is so small, that the change is scarce perceived. To have the face of a country cloathed with continual verdure, is an advantage peculiar to those latitudes, where there is no frost, and where the rainy season occupies the winter quarter.

From the singular position of Arabia, it will be easy to conceive that the nature of the soil must vary very much. In fact nothing can be more opposite. On one side there is nothing to be seen but desarts of sand; and, on the other, beautiful and fertile valleys. The sandy plain, which surrounds this peninsula, is almost entirely barren; and presents to view nothing but the image of desolation.

This plain of sand, called Tehama, begins at Suez, and extends all round the peninsula, to the mouth of the river Euphrates. Its breadth is unequal; in general it takes two days to cross the Red Sea, to the foot of the mountains. This part of the desart appears to have been covered with the sea: the bottom is a grey clay, mixed with a great deal of sand, and containing a great number of bones, and shells of sea-fish, at a considerable distance from the shore. There are also great heaps of salt, in sufficient quantity to form even little mountains. Its regular descent to the shore plainly indicates that it became dry by degrees. There is no doubt but the sea is continually retreating from this coast, and the Tehama gradually gaining fresh ground. The sand-banks are continually increasing, and, as they approach the shore, render the navigation of the gulph still more dangerous. History also proves this increase of land; it mentions many places as sea-ports, which are now at some distance from the coast; and passes over in silence, those which are now maritime towns; the existence of which must consequently be dated since the formation of the lands, where they are situated.

This acquisition of territory is of little advantage to the inhabitants; it being entirely barren, and producing nothing. Nor is there any hope of its being ever made better; as the soil of this province has remained the same for many ages.

In the mountainous part of Arabia, the soil varies very much; and is, in general, a clay mixed with sand. Their form prevents their being very fertile; they are commonly very steep and pointed, so that they neihter afford sufficient space to spontaneous vegetable productions, nor sufficient nourishment; because the torrents are continually carrying away the good land. The cultivation of them is likewise, owing to this circumstance, very laborious and expensive.

This country may be considered as interesting, in many particulars; but, in general, it is neither rich, nor fertile. Of this, the laborious life the peasants lead, and their indifferent food, are evident proofs. If it was called Arabia Felix by the ancients, it must have merited this name, rather by the value and rarity of its productions, than from their abundance.

Their mountains they never endeavour to cultivate; they being, for the most part, schistuous, and scarce capable of any improvement. Their valleys seem equally barren, where water is wanting, and produce scarce any herbage; but in those, where it can be introduced, they produce corn, vegetables, and and flowers; and no country in the world affords a more picturesque view. The Arabs draw the water in large skins, from the wells, with oxen, both morning and evening; conveying it along little canals, by the sides of which their trees and plants are set. They also cut little channels through their corn-fields, by which they let the water into them, as often as they have a mind.

There is also, in this part of Arabia, a great variety of fine fruits; such as oranges, lemons, grapes, peaches, and apricots; but what this country is most famous for, is, their dates and their coffee: with which a great number of ships are laden, every year, for Europe and India; besides large quantities sent to Turkey.

The coffee shrub grows eight or ten feet high, with a grey smooth bark; the wood is white, and without much pith. The twigs rise by pairs, opposite to each other, and the leaves on the twigs in the same manner; the fruit hangs to the twig by a foot-stalk, sometimes one, two, or more in the same place. These shrubs are planted in a rich soil, and watered by artificial canals; after three or four years bearing, the natives plant new shrubs, as the old ones then begin to decline. The berries are dried in the sun, and the outward husk afterwards taken off with hand-mills; and these husks the Arabians infuse in boiling water, when the heat is intense, instead of berries; esteeming the liquor more cooling.

Arabia also abounds in myrrh, manna, cassia, incense, aloes, balm and frankincense; besides some other valuable drugs. Among their trees nothing is more wanted than timber; and indeed there is scarce any wood in the country.

All uncivilized nations have remedies, derived from vegetables, with whose virtues they are acquainted by tradition. The Arabs are not without such kind of medicines; of which they have made use, from time immemorial, with such success as a stranger can hardly credit. Aloes and euphorbia are too sufficiently known to dwell upon them; in Arabia the different species of this latter plant are so numerous, that it may be looked upon as an indigenous plant. In hot countries counter-poisons are set great store by, on account of the venemous beasts with which they are infested. By long experience, the inhabitants of these countries are acquainted with those plants, which are salutary to men, and the contrary to these dangerous animals. The Arabs appear, however, to be ignorant of the virtues of Ophiorrizo, so common in their mountains. On the contrary, they set great value by the Aristolochia semper virens; which they look upon, not only as a remedy, but as a preservative, against the bite of serpents. According to their opinion, a person who has drank a decoction of these herbs, for forty days, cannot be bit by these venomous animals. Though this is not sufficiently ascertained; yet it seems probable, that those persons who travel about with serpents, exposing themselves to their bites, possess some secret to secure themselves from their malignant effect.

Of their animals, those most useful and excellent in their kind, are, camels and horses. The camels are well adapted to this desart country; the largest of them will carry immense burdens; some writer; say near a thousand pounds weight each. It is well known the Arabs set great value on their horses. They divide them, says Nieuburk, into two kinds; the Kadischi, or those horses whose breed is not known; and the Kochlani, or horses whose pedigree is traced back for above these two hundred years. The Kadischi are held in no great esteem, and are employed in husbandry, or in carrying burdens.

The Kochlani, on the contrary, are kept entirely for the saddle. They are very much prized, and consequently very dear. The Arabs pretend they derive their origin from the harems of Solomon. Be this as it will, they are capable of enduring very great fatigue, and going for days together without food. They are supposed to possess astonishing ardour; it is even said, that a horse of this breed, when he finds himself wounded, and no longer able to carry his rider, will quit the field of battle, in order to carry him to a place of safety. If the rider is thrown to the ground, these horses will remain near him, and not give over neighing, till some one comes to his assistance. These horses are neither large nor handsome, but very swist; and the Arabs value them only on accout of their pedigree, and their good qualities; but by no means for their figure.

These Arabs, it is true, have no genealogical tables to prove the pedigree of their Kochlani; but they are nevertheless certain of the regularity of the descent, because a mare of this breed is never covered but in the presence of witnesses. Though this people are not always very scrupulous about perjuring themselves, they are more conscientious in an affair of this kind; nor is there any instance of an Arab perjuring himself, respecting the breed of a horse; because he is persuaded, that he himself, and his whole family would be ruined, if, in an affair of such importance, be deposed what was not true.

The common food, both of camels and horses, is barley, or barley-meal, made into dough. But Thevenot says, that in some parts of Arabia the horses are fed with camel's milk; or with butter and wheat, and sometimes with the flesh of camels dried in the sun. A more modern writer says, the cattle at Muscat are fed with fish, not with such as are fresh taken; but they dig a small pit, and having thrown a large quantity of fish in it, they are suffered to remain there till they are rotten, and turned to a kind of earth, which is then taken up, boiled in water, and, when it has stood till it is cold, is given to the cattle. This makes them very fat, nor does their flesh taste amiss, from the cattle being fed with this kind of diet. They have oxen, buffaloes, goats and venison; but their beef, and the flesh of their buffaloes, is coarse. As to hogs, they never breed any, being all Mahometans, who abhor the sight of this animal. Fish and fowl are in great plenty on the sea-coasts; but the inland parts are very indifferently stocked; there being neither wood nor water to supply them with wood and shelter. Lions, bears, tygers, wolves, jackalls, and other wild beasts are also found in some parts of Arabia; but not in great numbers, there being but little cover for them.

Among other carniverous animals, the most frightful and dangerous is the hyaena; which attacks both men and beasts. This ferocious and solitary animal inhabits the caverns of the barren mountains of Arabia Petraea; he is also to be met with in the environs of the Persian gulph. The hyaena prowls about only in the night. In the season, when the inhabitants sleep in the open air, he frequently carries off the children, who are lying near their parents. As the domestic animals of the southern part of Persia are fed chiefly on fish, he is obliged to eat the same kind of food.

Arabia appears to be the native country of the ass; they are to be seen here of such a beautiful, vigorous, and animated species, that their asses may be compared to horses. The inhabitants also mention a wild animal, which they have called Djaear, of the size and figure of an ass, the flesh of which is good to eat. This animal is, perhaps, a wild ass; who, by living in woods, acquires some peculiarities in its shape, which make the Arabians, who know little of natural history, mistake it for some other animal.

The forests, in the southern part of Arabia, swarm with monkies who have no tails; and whose buttocks are bare of hair, and red. I have seen troops, of several hundreds, says Nieuburk; other travellers have met them, by thousands, in the mountains of Aden. These animals are very docile, and learn all sorts of tricks with great facility. This occasions a great quantity of them to be exported into Egpyt, where the mountebanks exhibit them to the people.

In the cultivated parts of Arabia, poultry, of all kinds, is very common. Of game, or wild fowl, very little is to be met with by travellers. The Arabians, in general, do not think it worth their notice; and neither ca•e for the pleasure, nor the labour, of hunting. Two reasons may be assigned for their aversion to a pastime, which constitutes the supreme felicity of the descendants from the savages of the North. A people, naturally sober and frugal, living under a climate, where animal food is rather prejudicial, than otherwise, to health, cannot be very fond of game. The punctilious precepts of the Mahometan religion must, besides, disgust an Arab from the pursuit of wild animals; and, especially, birds. For, if he omits to say a short prayer, whilst he is killing the animal; or if the animal does not lose the quantity of blood, prescribed by law; or if he was not killed instantly; or if he fell upon a spot that was inhabited, or contaminited: in all these instances, the sportsman loses his labour, or his prey is deemed impure.

A dry country, like Arabia, cannot breed any great quantities of aquatic birds. The birds which frequent the sea-coasts, and seed on fishes, are very common on the borders of the Red Sea; that sea being very shallow, and full of fish. Ostriches are also to be met with, in the desarts, which the Arabs call the desart-bird. Eagles, falcons, hawks and vultures are the birds of prey which are seen in Arabia. The last of these birds renders signal services; he purges the earth from all carcases, whose corruption is so sudden, and dangerous, in hot countries; and he destroys the field-mice, which would otherwise render useless the labours of the husbandmen. These essential services have made this bird to be considered as sacred, by the ancient Egyptians; and there are still many countries where they are not permitted to be killed.

In many countries of the East, as in Arabia, is another bird no less useful to the inhabitants. It is supposed to come from Korasan, and arrives in Arabia about July, or August; following the swarms of locusts, of which it destroys an incredible quantity. It is called Samarmar. The services which this bird renders to the countries, exposed to the ravages of these insects, occasions, in Syria, many ridiculous and superstitious customs. This bird is thought to be enticed by the Korasan water, which is brought, with great ceremony, from a considerable distance, and kep in a reservoir, made of stone, on the top of the tower of the mosques. If this water sails, the inhabitants are in despair.

There are many kinds of serpents, in Arabia, whose bite is often mortal; there are, however, as many more that are harmless. The bite of some only occasions a disagreeable itching, which the inhabitants easily cure. In general, the bite of those serpents only is mortal, who have a separate row of teeth longer than others. The Arabs, in Egypt, are acquainted with the formation of the teeth of these reptiles; and handle freely those serpents, from which they have taken out, with pincers, the long teeth, which serve as a channel to the poison. In Arabia, the only serpent truly dreadful is, that called Batan; very small, and delicately made, with black and white spots. Its bite is instant death; and swells the corps of the person bit, in an extraordinary manner.

In our passage up the Red Sea, we saw great quantities of flying fish; which rose, from time to time, above the surface of the water. But we discovered no flying serpent; though the Arabs give this name to a serpent, which should rather be called a springing one. This serpent fastens himself by his tail, to the low branch of a tree; then giving a sudden jerk, by means of the elasticity of his tail, he springs up, from one branch to another, till he reaches the top.

The Arabians distinguish several kinds of locusts, to which they give particular names; but their names do not regard the nature of the animal, but the pretended delicacy of its flesh. They give the name of Muken to that sort which is looked upon the fattest, and most succulent; they eat also another, which is thin and meagre; but they refrain entirely from that called Dubba, because it brings on a diarrhaea.

All the Arabs, not only those that live on the borders of Persia, but those in Syria and Africa, are accustomed to eat locusts; the Turks, on the contrary, have an aversion to this kind of food, If Europeans express the same dislike, the Arabs reproach them for eating oysters, crabs and lobsters.

Swarms of this insect darken the air, and appear a-far like a thick smoke. The noise they make, as they fly, is dreadful; it stuns the ears like the fall of a great river. When such a swarm alights on a country, it is laid waste, and stripped of its verdure. The vegetables, and date-trees, suffer very much from the locusts; but the corn that is ripe, or nearly so, is left un-touched, from its being too hard for them to eat.

A little insect, about the size of a barley-corn, is another scourge to Arabia, as well as to most hot countries. Many writers have, from its resemblance, taken this creature for an ant. Its instinct leads it to walk out only in the night, under some kind of galleries, which it builds up with earth as it advances; when got to the end of its march, it destroys and devours every thing; victuals, cloaths and furniture. We found, says Nicuburk, an army of these insects in our chambers, at Beit el Fakih, when they had built up their galleries, which we immediately destroyed; but without being discouraged, or even frightened, at the sight of us, they patched up their work, during the night, with singular perseverance; so that we had an infinite deal of trouble to get rid of this little animal, which lives and works in society, like the ants.

The Arda is another insect very dangerous to trees whose leaves, or fruit, their sweetness makes them fond of. These insects fasten their galleries, on such kinds of trees, from the bottom to the top. The inhabitants have no other means of securing their gardens, from a total devastation, than by surrounding the trees with sheep's dung; the smell of which is insupportable to this insect.

There are a great number of ants in Arabia, most of which are as harmless as our own. We must, however, except two kinds; one of which is troublesome, from the voracity with which it attacks the provisions of the Arabs, if not driven away by the smell of camphire; the bite of the other is almost as painful, as that of the scorpion.

A kind of Scolopendre is also very tormenting to the inhabitants, by causing burning pains to those it attacks. This insect fastens itself into the flesh, with all its feet, in such a manner, that it is impossible to be freed from it, but by successively burning, with hot iron, all the parts of the animal.

CHAP. II. Cities.

THE principal cities in Arabia, of which we propose to treat, are, Suez, situated in the Northern part of Arabia; Jeddah, Mecca and Medina, in the province of Hedsjas; and Loheia, Sana and Mocha, situated in the Yemen, or southern part of Arabia.

Suez, which was the Arsinoc of the ancients, is situated at the top of the Red Sea; it stands surrounded by the desart, and is a shabby ill-built place: the ships anchor a league from the town, to which, the channel that leads is very narrow, and has only nine or ten feet depth of water; for which reason the large ships, that are built here, must be towed down to the roads, without masts, guns, or any thing in them; some of these vessels are, at least, twelve hundred tons burthen, being as lofty as an hundred gun ship, though not longer than a frigate. Eight of these ships sail every year to Jeddah, before the Hadji, stay there two or three months, and return loaded with coffee: this is so material an article, in the diet of a Mussulman, that the prayers and wishes of them all are offered up for its safety; and, next to the loss of their country, the loss of their coffee would be most severely felt by them; the greatest part of it is sent to Constantinople, and other parts of Turkey.

The town, says Nieuburk, is situated on the western side of the Arabian gulph, or Red Sea; but not quite at its extremity. It is not surrounded with walls; the houses, however, are so well joined together, that there is no entering the city, but by two streets; one of which, that towards the sea, is open; and the other shut in by an old ruinous gate. The houses are very indifferent, and the Khans are the only substantial buildings, There are scarce any remains of the castle built by the Turks, on the ruins of the ancient Kolgum.

It is badly peopled. Among the inhabitants are some Greeks, and a small number of Copts; but, at the season of the departure of the ships for Jeddah, the concourse of strangers, collected there, is very great.

The country round about is nothing but rocks, slightly covered with sand, which renders it so very barren, that scarce any vegetation is to be seen; trees, gardens, fields and meadows are entirely unknown. The only article; of food, which is in any plenty, is fish. All other subsistence, for men or cattle, is brought from a great distance, from Cairo three days, or from Jassa, six days journey.

There is not a single spring of fresh water in Suez. The only water, that is drinkable, is brought from a place about two leagues from the town, on the other side of the gulf. It is the Arabs who bring this water, which they sell very dear. The principal occupation of the inhabitants is the building of ships. This business is in a very flourishing state, in spite of the dearness of wood, iron, and other materials, which are all brought from Cairo on camels. The government of this town is under the influence of the Turks.

Between this town and Tor is a place called Burkit Pharoon, signifying Pharach's whirlpool. This has been determined to be that part of the Red Sea which Moses, and the children of Israel crossed, as related in the bible, when pursued by Pharaoh; who, they say, was drowned, in that very spot, where this eddy is. The Arabs have still a custom, when they pass this place, to kill a sheep, which they smoke with incense, after cutting off its head, and then throw it into the sea, praying at the same time.

The government of Suez is under the influence of the Turks. The governor is appointed by the pacha of Grand Cairo. The Arabs, who live near Tor, on the other side of the gulf, pay little regard to the Turkish governor of Suez. When they are dissatisfied with him, or the inhabitants, they threaten to bring no more water, and forbid any one to go near the well. The putting this threat into execution would reduce the town to the greatest extremity; they therefore do every thing to pacify them. They might easily ruin the town, if they did not prefer the advantage they derive from the transport of merchandize, on their camels, between Suez and Grand Cairo.

We ourselves, says Nieuburk, experienced the effects of the insolent threats of these Arabs. The Scheiks who had conducted us to Mount Sinai, not having fulfilled their engagements, we refused to pay them all the money we agreed to give them. They threatened to kill us; we told them we would defend ourselves. They then said they would cut off the supply of water; we replied that was indifferent to us, who drank only wine; an answer which made the Turks laugh, at the Arabs' expence. But, after having interested the tribe to take part in their quarrel, the execution of this threat was so much dreaded, that the governor entreated us to settle the the difference by paying the Scheik.

Every person, whether Christian or Mahometan, who travels along the coast of Arabia Petraea, either by sea or land, should take with him a Ghasir, or guide, to whom he must make some little present, from time to time; as also at the end of his journey. By these means he will travel through the country, without danger of being molested. If the vessel, on which he embarks, should be shipwrecked, it will be plundered by the Arabs; but his goods, or merchandize, will be restored to him immediately, if his Ghasir is present. If the traveller names one who is absent, a circle will be drawn round them, and they will be kept till he comes; and, then, instantly transmitted to him. But if the traveller has no Ghasir, or if he gives in a fictitious name, his effects will be seized upon, without hearing any thing he has to say. The Turks, through avarice, in order to save some little present, and out of pride not to be thought to familiarize with the Arabs, very seldom take any Ghasirs; but they suffer by this neglect. For the rights of this kind of hospitable friendship are sacred among these robbers.

When I say of Jeddah, says Rooke, that it is terra senza frutti & populo senza fede, I believe I give a pretty just description of it; but to enter into a more minute one, it is an old and ill built town, surrounded by a broken and ruinous wall, having no sort, nor any guns mounted; it is situated nearly mid-way, between Mocha and Suez, on the eastern coast of the Red Sea, and is a place of the greatest trade on it; the commerce, between Arabia and Europe, here meets, and is interchanged; the former sending her gums, drugs, coffee, &c. which are brought in small vessels, from the whole extent of the coast, as far as Bassora, in the Persian gulph; and from Europe come cloths, iron, furs, and other articles, by way of Cairo: the revenue, arising from the duties on these, is shared between the Grand Signior, and the Scheriff of Mecca; to whom this place justly belongs. It was formerly tributary to the Grand Signior only; but the latter, whose dominions surround it, seized on it; the affair, however, being compromised between them, they now share the profits of the port; the former sends annually a Pacha, to support his pretensions, and collect the revenue; the latter deputes a governor, who is termed the Vizir-Scheriff, and has chief power and authority here.

This town, like Suez, is entirely without fresh water. The inhabitants have none to drink, but what the Arabs collect in their reservoirs in the mountains; which they bring, by little and little. on their camels, into the city. The environs are a deep sand, and very barren. According to tradition, these parts have experienced no change since the creation of the world; for, in a place a little distant from the sea, they still shew the tomb of Eve. In walking about the harbour, says Nieubuhr, I was witness to the very singular manner in which the Arabs take their wild fowl. The fowler undresses himself, puts some sea-weed on his head, and walks towards the bird, who is not frightned at the approach of the sea-weed, which he is accustomed to see floating on the waves. The Arab then seizes the duck by the feet. When Pocock, and other travellers, mentioned this method being practised in China, their relation was not credited. Nothing is, however, more certain.

The people here are not quite so black as they are farther South, having a yellowish tinge in their complexions; their way of living, however, is much the same: they sit cross-legged on the ground at their meals; watch, pray, drink coffee, and smoke hookah five times in the day. There are several coffee-houses which are always full; the common people there drink their dish of coffee together, as ours would a pot of beer, at an alehouse. The women seem to have rather more liberty than at Mocha, many of them may be seen walking about the streets; but the appearance they make is very extraordinary: those of middling rank wear loose cloth trowsers, and yellow huzzar-boots, have veils of white linen over their faces, reaching almost to the ground, with only two slits for the eyes, and wrap themselves in a large loose plaid of coarse cloth; they have a variety of gold and silver trinkets round their arms and legs, and wear necklaces of small pieces of money strung; all these make a jingle, like bells, as they walk: through one of their nostrils they wear a ring, with a slat plate on it, like a coat button, and dye their hands red, with a herb that grows in the country; they are as fond of smoking hookah as the men; and, when they visit, always take it along with them.

The dress of persons of distinction, among the men, is not unlike that of the Turks. They wear their shirt over loose trowsers, made of linen. The jambea, a kind of concave hanger, is fastened to a large girdle; a waistcoat, the sleeves of which fit close, is covered with a very large mantle. The twist, which hangs to the handle of the dagger, has a kind of coral suspended to it, with which the Arabs amuse themselves, says Nieubuhr, to keep their fingers employed. They are unacquainted with the use of stockings; and wear nothing about their feet, but half-boots, or slippers.

The women of fashion are dressed nearly as the Turks are at Cairo; but the common people wear only a shirt, without breeches. The Bedouins have nothing but a long piece of linen, which they wrap round their waist. The women, among the lower class, wear nothing but a long shift, hanging loose; and veil. In these three articles consists the whole of their dress. We have given a plate of one of these women selling bread. Her fan is made of a kind of mat, composed of leaves of the palm-tree interwove, and a parasol of the same.

Being near the fountain-head of their faith, the people here are great bigots to their religion, and, of course, inveterate enemies to the Christians; any stranger, of that class, is sure of being insulted in the streets, unless he has a guard with him; they are not allowed to go out of the gate leading to Mecca.

Eve's sepulchre is a white building, which stands about a quarter of a mile North of the town; the Arabs say she was certainly buried there, and that her grave is twenty feet in length, which they determine to have been the standard height of mankind, at that early period of the world; the two Arabic words signifying Eve, the mother of all, are inscribed on the building; they go every sabbath to pray there, but will not suffer a Christian to visit it. The two most valuable productions of this country are, balm of Gilead, and senna, says Rooke; the former is extracted from a tree which grows amongst the mountains, the latter is a shrub found near Mecca.

ARABS of DISTINCTION

Our merchants used to send annually ships from Bengal, and other parts, to Jeddah; but the arbitrary impositions, laid on the goods, and the frauds they experienced from the people, have made them entirely discontinue this commerce: a most glaring instance of villany, in the prince of the country, and the Lord Lieutenant of Jeddah, stands foremost on the latter list; they jointly bought the cargo of an English ship, worth near £. 50,000, took the goods, and engaged to pay the money in a few days; but the supercargo, after repeated applications, was obliged to return to India, having only the Scheriff's bill, payable the following summer; accordingly he returned, was very pressing for the money, but met with no better success than before, and only received a fresh bill, with positive assurances he should be paid the following year; it happened before his return, that both the Scheriff and his Vizir were dead; and when he applied for payment of the bill to the reigning Scheriff, who was son to the former, he flatly refused to pay a farthing, saying, that as the debt was incurred by his father, his father only was answerable for it; that it was true he was dead, but the body was at his service, and if it would be any satisfaction to the creditors, he was very welcome to carry it with him to Bengal.

This city, distant a day's journey from Jeddah, is situated in a dry and barren soil. A few leagues farther up the country, however, towards the mountains, very fine fruits are to be seen in great abundance. During the summer months, the heats are intolerable at Mecca; the inhabitants, to shade themselves, shut the blinds of their windows very carefully, and water the streets, in order to cool the air. There have been instances of persons being suffocated, while they were walking in the streets, by the burning wind called Samoum.

As a great part of the nobility, of the province of Hedsjas, lives here, it is better built than any other city of Arabia. Among the fine edifices it contains, the most remarkable is the famous Kaba, or house of God, which was held in veneration, even before the time of Mahomet.

I should have been curious enough to have seen this extraordinary building, says Nieubuhr, but no Christian is permitted to go to Mecca, not that there is any express law to the contrary, or that the more enlightened Mahometans have any thing to object against a curiosity of this sort; but, on account of the prejudices of the people, who, looking upon this as holy ground, think the Christians unworthy to set their foot there: it would be profaned, in the opinion of the superstitious, if it was trodden upon by infidels. The people even imagine, that Christians are prevented from approaching it by a supernatural power. They relate, that an infidel, on his arrival at the hills which surround Mecca, was attacked by all the dogs of the city, who came out on purpose; and that, struck with this miracle, and the august aspect of the Kaba, he turned Mahometan.

We must presume then, that all the Europeans who have described Mecca, from ocular testimony, have been renegado's who escaped from Turkey. A recent instance supports this opinion. On the promise of being able to preserve his religion, a French surgeon was persuaded to accompany the Emir Hadji, as his physician. But, at the first station, they obliged him to be circumcised, and then permitted him to continue his journey.

Although the Mahometans do not permit the Europeans to go to Mecca, they do not object giving them descriptions of the Kaba. There are painters who get their livelihood, by making small paintings of the Kaba, and selling them to the pilgrims.

To judge from these drawings, the kaba is a very insignificant building; a kind of square tower, whose top has a covering of black silk thrown over it, embroidered with gold. This covering is made at Kahira; and a new one, as we have already observed in our account of Turkey, is sent every year by the Grand Signior. The gutters of this building, are of pure gold. What seems most magnificent in this holy building, are the arcades which surround the place where the kaba is situated. The Mahometans speak with admiration of the great quantity of gold and silver lamps, and chandeliers, contained in these arcades. Yet, according to these accounts, which are probably exaggerated, the riches to be found in the kaba, are much inferior to those displayed in many of the Catholic churches.

The kaba contains a most venerable and extraordinary relic; this is the famous black stone, brought by the angel Gabriel, for the construction of the holy house. According to the mufti's, when this stone arrived, it was entirely white, and so brilliant, that it dazzled the eyes at the distance of four days journey; but it wept so much, and so long for the sins of men, that it became opaque, and at last quite black. Every mussulman, when he walks round the kaba, must kiss, or at least touch, this compassionate stone. The same honours are not paid to Abraham's stone, nor to that of Ishmael. Pilgrims are dispensed with from visiting and kissing them.

The Arabs venerate the kaba, because it was built by Abraham, and served as a house of prayer for him. In the same precincts, is the well of Zemzem, esteemed for the excellence of its water, and honoured on account of its miraculous origin. Hagar, turned out of doors by her master, set down the little Ishmael on this spot, while she went to a fountain, to get some water for her son, who was dying with thirst. Not being able to meet with any water, she was surprized at her return, she was astonished to see a spring issuing out between the legs of the child; and this spring is the well of Zemzem still existing.

A range of brass columns, which go round the kaba, serve farther as an ornament to it. Chains run between the pillars, which support a multitude of silver lamps. The portico's, or arcades, above mentioned, are intended to serve as a shade to the pilgrims during the violent heats in the day-time. A farther use is made of them; the merchants, who follow the caravans in great numbers, display their merchandize under these arcades.

The Mahometans have so great an opinion of the sanctity of Mecca, that they extend it to the environs. The territory of this town is reputed sacred, to certain distances, which are pointed out by particular marks. Each caravan finds, on its route, one of these marks, which is an indication to the pilgrims to put on the humble garb, in which they must appear on this holy ground.

At one day's journey, distant from the harbour of Jambo, is Medina, a city of a middling size, surrounded with bad walls, and situated in a sandy plain. It belongs to the Scheriff. Before the time of Mahomet, this city was called Jathreb; but it had the name of Medinet en Nebbi, or city of the prophet, given to it, after Mahomet, on being driven from Mecca, took refuge there; and, in this city, he passed the remainder of his days.

The tomb of Mahomet, at Medina, is respected by the mussulmen; but they are not obliged to visit it, in order to pay their devotions to the tomb. The caravans of Syria and Egypt, which, on their return from Mecca, pass near Medina to see it.

I had, says Nieubuhr, a drawing of the great mosque, in which the tomb is seen in one corner. As it was feared the people might render a superstitious homage to the spoils of the prophet, iron nails are placed round the tomb, through which it may be seen. It consists of simple masonry, in the form of a chest, without other monument. I could not, says the above writer, learn what gave rise to the ridiculous story, well known in Europe, of the large pieces of adamant which supported Mahomet's tomb in the air. This tomb is placed between two others, in which repose the ashes of the two first califs. Although it is not more magnificent than most of the founders of mosques, the building which covers it, is enveloped on the outside with a covering of green silk, embroidered with gold, which the pacha of Damascus exchanges for a new one, every seven years.

The building is guarded by forty eunuchs, in order to prevent the treasure being taken away, which is said to be contained there. This treasure, made up chiefly of presents from the Turkish nobles, is looked upon as very considerable; but so many absurd stories are blended with this account, that it is impossible to know what to think. Many very respectable Mahohometans have assured me, as a fact, that among other valuable treasures belonging to this tomb, one is the philosopher's stone, or a large quantity of powder which converts all metals into fine gold.

The mountainous part of the province of Hedsjas, between Mecca, is divided among a number of independent Scheicks. During the months proper for pasturage, the persons of the highest rank in these tribes, live under tents in summer, and remain the rest of the year in towns and villages. But the people commonly live in little huts covered with rushes.

The most remarkable state, and the least known, is that which the Jews have formed to the North-east of Medina. They have their own Scheiks, and are divided into three tribes. They are so odious to the Mahometans, who accuse them of plundering the caravans, that in Syria, the greatest affront that can be put upon a man, is to call him Beni Kheibar, the name given to these Jews.

This establishment has, perhaps, given rise to the fable of the Sabbatic river. These Jews, not travelling on the sabbath, cannot follow the caravans. The country they inhabit is, however, surrounded with such extensive deserts, and so very unsafe, that, without joining some caravan, it is impossible for them to go out of a country so isolé, or to get into it.

MOCHA.

This city, situated on the Red Sea, in the kingdom of Sana, which lies in the Southern and most fertile province of Arabia, called by the natives Yemen, by the ancients, Arabia Felix, appears extremely beautiful in approaching it, being well built, and standing close to the water's edge; the houses are very lofty, and are, as well as the walls, forts, &c. covered with a chinam, or stucco, that gives them a dazzling whiteness: the harbour is semicircular, and formed by two arms which run out into the sea, to equal lengths, having a fort at each extremity. The circuit of the wall is two miles. There are several handsome mosques in the city; but that with the tower, built in honour of Shadeli, who founded the town, and brought the coffee-plant into the neighbourhood, is the principal one. The English, French, and Dutch, have factories here; the house of the former, is a very large and handsome building. There are no springs of fresh water in the town, but some of a very good quality, within a quarter of a mile, among the groves of date-trees. Provisions, fruits, and vegetables, are in great abundance.

Trade has much declined here of late years, since Europe has been supplied with coffee from the West-Indies, which article is the staple commodity of this country; it grows at a place called Betelfaqui, about sixty miles from hence, and is brought to Mocha on camels; that patient and docile animal, in these Eastern countries, shares with man in his toil, and transports his merchandize from place to place; he kneels down at the command of his master, to receive his load, and carries it with a slow and steady pace across the dry and barren desarts, supporting thirst for several days together; nor is this animal useful only for the purposes of carrying a rider, or his burden, but it likewise supplies man both with food and raiment.

The finest breed of Arabian horses is near this city, and has furnished us with those we make use of for the turf; they are here chiefly articles of luxury, used only in war, and for parade; the governor has a large stud; they are small, but finely shaped, and extremely active; of this, says Rooke, I had an opportunity of judging, when the cavalry had a field-day in the great square; which, from the mode of exercise, called to mind the idea of our ancient tilts and tournaments; the lists were surrounded with a great number of spectators, and within were drawn up fifty horsemen; they first moved in a body, and performed several charges with great rapidity, then dispersed; some took antagonists, and practised with them a mock fight with lances, of ten or twelve yards in length, which they all carried; others went singly through their exercise with that weapon, and the motions of attack and defence; their horses were sumptuously caparisoned, being adorned with gold and silver trappings, bells hung round their necks, and rich housings; the riders were in handsome Turkish dresses, with white turbans, and the whole formed a most pleasing spectacle.

There are many rich merchants here; but as their wealth increases, the sovereign makes a demand of his share; which is as much as he chuses to ask for; when his wants are pressing, he sends orders to the governor nor to demand a free gift of so many dollars from the merchants, which they freely give, because they dare not refuse; the governor assesses them according to his own pleasure, dividing the sum to be raised between Banians and Mussulmen.

The English agent, who is a Gentoo, has a large conversazioni every afternoon, composed of his brother banians, the denomination given to such as are of the mercantile caste, who sit round the room on cushions, and take coffee with him; they are of a lighter colour than any other people here, and some of them might, in looks, pass for sallow Europeans; they dress in a long, close-bodied, muslin gown, and a red turban, made up into a form, something like a woman's bonnet; they cherish one single lock on the crown of the head, shaving all the rest, and generally have a red wafer stuck in the middle of their forehead, which is a religious badge, placed there by the priests.

The Gentoos are very numerous in this city; these are a particular sect of men, scattered through the East, no less singular in their life and manners, than in their doctrine; the founder of them was Brama, who gave them their creed; they are distributed into what we term castes, or communities of men, who practise the same occupation, and keep themselves distinct from each other; they hold it the greatest of crimes to drink out of the same vessel, with one of another caste, or religion; they never eat of any animal, nor kill even a fly. This lenity is founded on their belief, in the metempsychosis, which also induces them to feed all kinds of animals, not knowing but that the souls of some of their friends may have taken up their abode in the bodies of them; so that the dogs, cats, cows, pigeons, fowls, &c. subsist mostly by the charity of the Gentoos; the owners of them thinking it unnecessary to be at the expence of feeding them, when these good gentlemen are taught, by their religion, to take so much care of them.

In travelling through different countries, the first idea that suggests itself is, whether the laws and customs which prevail, are such as tend to make the people happy; and, in forming this estimation, we are but too apt to measure their feelings by our own; which is, in fact, to consider whether we ourselves should be happy in them. Arguing on this principle, we must, of course, draw one comparison, much to the disadvantage of that country, where the violation of property is so customary as it is here; and the intercourse with the beau-sexe, is founded on tyranny and compulsion, instead of that delicacy and sympathy of sentiment, which forms these attachments with us. But, to weigh the matter fairly, we should pronounce that if an Englishman would be miserable in Arabia Felix, an Arabian would be no less so in England; the force of custom, climate, and complexion, which makes men equally happy in different quarters of the globe, will not allow them to be transplanted more than the fruits of the country, which can only flourish in their proper soil.

Sana, the capital of the kingdom, where the Imam, or king, resides, is about ten days journey from Mocha: a day's journey is five and twenty miles. This city stands among mountains, and always enjoys a temperate climate. It is situated at the foot of a mountain, on which are seen the ruins of a castle, built by Sem, according to the opinions of the Arabs. The town is of no great circumference, and may be walked round in an hour; though it is the capital of a kingdom, the circuit of which is six hundred miles. It has seven gates and a number of mosques, some of which have been built by Turkish pachas. It appears more populous than it is in reality, as the gardens occupy a considerable part of the space within the town. There are only twelve public baths at Sana, but there are a great number of magnificent palaces; the three finest of which were built by the present Imam.

The architecture of the Arabic palaces, bears no resemblance to ours. They are, however, built with bricks or stone, cut or shaped in the same manner. They have scarce any window-frames. Instead of windows, they, in general, have shutters, which they open in fine weather, and shut, when it rains. In this latter case, there is a small hole at the upper part of the shutter, silled up with Muscovy glass, through which the light enters. Some of the Arabs have small painted windows which they get from Venice.

There is at Sana, as in all the towns of the East, large khans for travellers. Every kind of merchandize has its particular market. None but women are to be seen in the bread-market, who have portable shops, or stands. It is the same with all other trades, where the business is carried on in similar buildings in the open street. The writers have portable shops, where they transcribe their papers, copy books, and give lessons in writing to their pupils. There are also markets, where old cloaths may be exchanged for new.

Timber, is in general, very dear in the Yemen; wood for burning, is no less so at Sana. As all the mountains are barren, the wood comes at the distance of two or three days journey, so that a camel's load commonly costs about two crowns. This scarcity is supplied by charcoal; they have also turf, but it is so had that it must be mixed with straw, in order to make it burn.

Fruits, on the contrary, are in great profusion at Sana. There are more than twenty different kinds of grapes, which ripening one after another, furnish a delicious refreshment for many months. The Arabs hang them up in their cellars, and make them last almost the whole year. The Jews make a small quantity of wine, and might make still more for commerce, if the Arabs were not such enemies to strong liquors. A Jew, convicted of having carried wine to an Arab, is severely punished. He must even be cautious in sending it to one of his own persuasion. They dry a great quantity of grapes, and it forms a considerable article of exportation.

The Jews are not permitted to live in Sana, they inhabit a village a-part, to the number of two thousand. In the Yemen, they are treated with more contempt, than even in Turkey. They are the best workmen the Arabs have. These people are permitted to go into the city in the day-time, where they work in little open shops; and, at night, return to their village.

The Imam lives in great state at Sana; he has a numerous stud of very fine horses, and his seraglio is composed of one hundred and fifty women: in this blessing of life, people in the East may indulge themselves to what extent they please, there being no limitation to the number of concubines, though only four wives are allowed; the seraglios are, therefore, commonly in proportion to the wealth of the master, their concubines being slaves whom they purchase. Their idea of beauty, as may easily be supposed, differs as much from ours as their colour; the more jetty black the complexion of the female, the more she is admired; flat noses and thick lips are considered handsome; and, therefore, the women of Abyssinia, which country is opposite to this coast, having these perfections in the highest degree, fetch the greatest price in the market; numbers of them are brought here, and sent to the other parts of Arabia, every year for sale.

The throne of the Imam of Sana, whose dominions may be said to comprehend the greatest part of the Yemen, is hereditary. His revenues are estimated at about 500,000 crowns a month. They arise from imposts on lands, persons and goods. Coffee is the leading article of his revenue; this is taxed a fourth part of its value before it is exported. It is remarkable, that Pliny notices the ancient custom of the Arabs, to grant their sovereign a duty, amounting to the value of the fourth part of their productions. His army consists of about four thousand infantry, and one thousand cavalry.

In time of peace, the service of a soldier in the cavalry, is confined to the taking care of his horse, and accompanying the Imam, or, if in the provinces, the governor, to the mosque. The Arabs take very great care of their horses, each of which has its particular groom. They leave the heads of their horses free, and fasten them by the legs very near the ground, which prevents their being vicious. After the soldiers have conducted the Imam from the mosque, they pursue each other with lances, and this is all their military exercise. As the lands in the Yemen are very cold, they immediately put coverings over their horses, which they leave upon them, till they are mounted again.

Most of the men have also some civil employment, which they follow, when they are not taking the field. They are armed with lances and sabres, and some of them carry pistols in the housings of their saddles. But they wear no uniform, each person dressing himself according to his fancy.

In the garrison, the infantry is just as idle; they seldom mount guard, except some few sentinels at the gates of the towns. The infantry also accompany the governor to the mosque, marching in rank and file, with men preceding them, who are cutting capers, with their arms in their hands, and singing like so many madmen. On their return from the mosque, these foot-soldiers salute the governor with some discharges of musquetry, made without any regularity; and this ceremony is the only exercise they have.

The infantry is still worse cloathed than the cavalry; most of the soldiers are contented with simply wrapping some linen round their waist, and a handkerchief about their head; the best dressed wear a shirt, and breeches of blue cloth.

The Arabs have an extraordinary manner of shewing their courage, resembling the manner in which the ancients devoted themselves to death. The person who wishes to give proofs of his attachment to his master, ties up one of his legs behind, and continues firing till the enemies retire, or he himself is killed. I looked upon this as a story, having no foundation in truth, says Nieubuhr, until I was undeceived in the recent instance, which I found might be depended on, of a Scheik, in the service of the Imam, who devoted himself in this manner, in an engagement against his countrymen. Six slaves loaded the fusils of this Scheik, who kept a continual fire upon the enemy; until, after being abandoned by the Iman's troops, and his own domestics, he was massacred.

They have no artillery in their armies; the Arabs know not how to make use of cannon; so that their cannoniers, which they have in some of their towns, are renegado's, or fugitive Turks, who have never been thoroughly taught this art.

The Imam having nothing to fear from enemies, or pirates, in the Red Sea, has no need of a navy. His subjects are, in general, bad sailors. The fishermen display a courage and dexterity, in hazarding themselves at some distance from the shore, in small sloops, without sails, and, in a manner, without oars.

Notwithstanding the natural talents of the people, the arts, for want of encouragement, are entirely neglected in the territories of the Imam, and in the adjoining provinces. Books are rare, the Arabs not being fond of printed characters. They have no painters nor sculptors, it being contrary to the precepts of their religion, to suffer the imprint of any image. Nor have they any musical instruments, except drums and reeds, in the country of the Yemen. Their gold and silver work is well executed, but the workmen are either Jews or Banians.

CHAP. III. Persons, Dress, Habitations, Food, Customs, Travelling, Marriages, Arab Women.

HAVING, in our description of Syria and Palestine, given an account of the Bedouin Arabs inhabiting the vallies and frontiers of those two provinces; we shall conclude our description of Arabia, with some interesting observations on the manners and customs of the Arabs in general; a people hitherto but little known, and which are extracted from the writings of Abbé Poiret, in his late travels through part of that country.

How shall I paint, says the Abbé, the confused and contradictory ideas which arose in my mind, on the first view of these Arab hordes? I had approached within half a gun-shot of thirty tents, and was preparing to go up to them, when I was informed that the plague had just made its appearance among them. To avoid the danger of communication, I dismounted from my horse. The spot where I then happened to be, was on the brink of a-rivulet, the stream of which was cool, and perfectly limpid; bushes of roses, laurels, and myrtles, formed around me an agreeable shade; and the landscape, bounded by hills, clothed with the most beautiful verdure, was animated by numerous herds feeding at a distance, Thus nature, by presenting this delightful view, transported me, in idea, to those happy ages, when men were all shepherds, and knew no other riches than their flocks, and the productions of the earth. Occupied with these ideas, whilst wandering over the beauties of this scene, and fixing my sight principally upon the low smoky huts of the Arabs, I saw, all of a sudden, about a dozen of them, directing their steps towards me. I confess, at the sight of these ferocious men, I could not suppress an emotion of fear; which, in an instant, dispelled all those ideas with which I had been so agreeably entertained. They were armed, and I apprehended some attack from them; but the Arabs who accompanied me, assured me there was no danger. As soon as they were near enough, I saluted them according to the custom of the country, and ordered my interpreters to tell them to keep at a certain distance, on account of the contagion. With this request they readily complied, and squatting down in a circle round us, conversed with their countrymen for some time. They then asked me, if I would have 〈1 page duplicate〉 〈1 page duplicate〉 〈1 page duplicate〉 〈1 page duplicate〉 any milk, I replied in the affirmative; upon which, two of them immediately set out, and returned soon after, with each a bason full of it. I drank some of it, and, notwithstanding their forward manner and threatening air, was sensible they gave me a kind reception. I expressed my gratitude by my gestures, and distributed among them a small quantity of powder and shot, which they requested. Forgetting then the picture which had been drawn to me of their manners, I endeavoured to persuade myself, that the nearer a man is to nature, the better he ought to be. I perceived in them the patriarchs of antiquity, devoted entirely to the care of their flocks, and free from that multiplicity of wants created by luxury. I beheld men, to whom I was indebted for their hospitality, since they offered me an asylum in their tents; and, if I did not find in them the affected politeness of Europe, I thought I observed, at least, that rustic openness, that ought to reside in the man of nature.

When I took leave of these Arabs, they accompanied me near half a mile; and when we parted, they wished me, in their own language, happiness and peace. Being informed of the meaning of these expressions, I repeated them very affectionately, and congratulated myself, that the first Arabic words which I pronounced, served to express my gratitude; I met with almost the same reception, says the Abbé, from the different Arab tribes, among whom I went.

In this desart and uncultivated country, how many enjoyments, and what riches for the naturalist! How many useful lessons for the philosophical observer! How humiliating it is for human nature, to see almost all nations degenerate insensibly from the virtue of their ancestors, and preserve only their vices! This, however, is the picture which the history of all ages presents to us. Where, at present, shall we find the sages of Greece, the learned Egyptians, and the heroes of ancient Rome? We should in vain seek for them in their descendants; while the Asiatic has preserved his primitive effeminacy, and the barbarous African still thirsts after blood. How many figures, worthy of exercising the pencil of a Raphael, are to be met with among the Moors and Arabs! Eyes full of fire and courage, a ferocious look, manly and strange features, an aquiline nose, nervous arms, a tall figure, a haughty gait, legs, thighs, and shoulders almost always naked, are the characteristic marks which distinguish the greater part of them.

Their dress is an interesting object, and believed to be very ancient. It is said, that in some parts of the desart, several of the tribes go perfectly naked. I have, indeed, met with some, says the Abbé, who had no kind of vestment whatever; and others, who had a kind of light drawers; but the greater part wear a dress, more or less simple, according to their wealth and condition. Some, 'I mean the poorer sort,' wrap themselves up in a piece of linen cloth, several yards in length, which they roll, each according to his own manner, around the head and body. This dress is perfectly well described by Fenelon, when, speaking of the customs of the Boeotians, in his Telemaehus; he says, "Their dresses are easily made; for in that mild climate, nothing is worn but a piece of fine light stuff, uncut, which they wrap round their bodies in long folds, giving it whatever form they chuse. Others add below either a shirt, like those of our women, or a tunic of woollen cloth, without sleeves, which reaches as far as their knees. The richest wear, besides this, a kind of robe, much like the cloaks of the hermits. The fineness of their dress is also proportioned to their fortune. I have seen several Arab chiefs clad in woollen stuffs, which, on the first view, I have taken for very fine muslin, of an exceeding bright white colour." The Barbary wool, has always been famous for its beauty. The women, for their dress, wear a piece of stuff like that of the men, but they arrange it somewhat differently. They make a kind of robe of it, which covers several of those parts that the men leave naked. Besides this, the Arab women wear several ornaments, which certainly do not contribute to set off their beauty. They wear their hair in tresses, and sometimes floating over their shoulders; while the men are shaved, and reserve only one tuft in the middle of their head. The ears, arms, and legs of an Arab woman, are ornamented with large iron rings; sometimes they add bits of coral. Coquettes, after their own manner, instead of rouge, which certainly would add very little embellishment to their dark complexions, use gunpowder mixed with antimony, for tracing out various figures on their foreheads, and above the eye-lids. The men do the same on their arms, breasts, and hands; a little superstition is, perhaps, mixed with these mystical characters. If, to supply those colours which they want, our European ladies were obliged to submit to an operation, as painful as that employed by the Arabs, it may be much doubted, whether they would wish for any other charms than those bestowed by nature. The female Arabs, to render these marks indelible, prick their skins in numberless places with a needle, and when the blood ceases to flow, they apply their powder, finely pounded, and force it into the pores of the skin, by repeated friction.

The dress, which has been described, is, indeed, common among the wandering Arabs of the mountains, and the desarts. Those, who live in cities, vary more in their manner of dressing. Some go with their heads bare, or covered at most with a red bonnet; others wear a turban like the Turks, with part of their accoutrements. They use slippers too, but the mountaineers go always bare-footed.

Those who are fond of antiquities, might make curious and useful researches respecting the dress of the African and Asiatic Arabs. What induces me, says Poirét, to believe it is very ancient, is, that these people are absolutely ignorant of a variety of modes. A son never thinks of dressing any otherwise than his father; and even if he should, their industry is so limited, that their workmen would find themselves much embarrassed, were they obliged to change the form of their dress, however troublesome it might be.

The habitations of the Arabs are as simple as their dress; they inhabit only tents or huts, constructed with the branches of trees and reeds. A collection of several tents, is called a douare: there are some which contain from ten to twenty, and even above a hundred. These tents are placed circularly, in order that they may inclose their flocks in the middle, during the night. If there be any vacant space between two tents, they fill it up with bushes and thorns, to exclude ferocious animals. The form of each tent is almost like that of a tomb, or of the keel of a vessel reversed. They are low, except those of their chiefs, which are extensive, and have a little more elevation. The cloth of which they are composed is of wool, very closely woven, and dyed either black or brown. The facility with which these habitations are transported, makes the Arabs often change their abode, according to the season, or as their wants may require. In winter, they choose a Southern exposure, at the bottom of some hill; in summer, they approach those places where there are plenty of pastures, and abundance of springs.

An inventory of their furniture may be soon taken. They are acquainted with no other bed than the earth, upon which the most delicate spread a little straw, a mat, or a coarse carpet. A few earthen vessels for cooking, and to prepare their courcousan; a wooden bason to draw water, and to hold their milk, when they milk their cows; a goat's skin to churn their butter, and two portable mill-stones to grind their corn, are all the apparatus of their kitchens.

From this enumeration of their kitchen utensils, it may readily be supposed, that their repasts are neither sumptuous nor delicate; indeed, nothing can be more simple or frugal. They make only one meal a day, which requires any preparation. Besides this, they take nothing, or else they content themselves with some fruit, or a few wild roots. Those, however, who are in easy circumstances, eat two meals a day, which consists only of courcousan. It will be proper to observe, that the wheat in the northern part of Arabia does not, like that in Europe, produce a pure and nutritive flour; but, it is necessary to distinguish in the grain, the mealy part from that which is hard. The first, which is in a very small quantity, is generally found at the point of the grain and in the middle. This flour makes very bad black bread; and, on this account, it is never used. They give it their cattle, or mix it up in small quantities with the part which is hard. The Arabs are unacquainted with the use of bread. They bruise their wheat by means of two portable stones, so that it forms a coarse kind of meal, which they call courcousan. When they are desirous of preparing a repast, they heap up a quantity of this meal, in a vessel full of small holes, and place it by way of a covering upon the pot, in which they boil their flesh, so that the vapour which arises, penetrates the meal, and makes it swell. When this operation is finished, they take out the courcousan, and put it into another large flat vessel, supported by a foot like that of our drinking glasses. This food serves them instead of bread; and when they eat it, they mix it with a little soup, milk, butter, or honey. Above the courcousan they place their roast meat, which every one tears to pieces with his fingers; this is generally beef, mutton, fowls, or goat's flesh.

When the courcousan is prepared in this manner, the chief of the tent, or any other Arab, of a rank superior to the rest, lays hold of the dish, and eats first, and alone. He sits squatting down, places the courcousan before him, and, having taken a little with his fingers, forms it into small balls in the hollow of his hand, and throws it into his mouth with much dexterity. When the chiefs have done, the dish passes into the hands of those who are next in dignity: to children, for example, who never eat with their father, nor even in his presence, unless among Arabs of a certain distinction. The women eat last; they have nothing but what is left by the men, and even what is left by their own children. They alone have the charge of providing these repasts. According to the principles of their religion, the Arabs are obliged, both before and after meat, to wash their hands, beard, and mouth; but many neglect this ceremony. As Mahometans, they have nothing to drink but water, drawn up with a wooden bason, from which they all drink in their turns. However, they do not refuse wine when it is offered to them, if they are not seen. Many of them are even known to drink to excess.

When the Arabs undertake long journies, and in places in which it is probable they will meet with no hospitality, they carry with them a certain quantity of their meal; and when they are pressed by hunger, make a few balls of it with water, in the hollow of their hand. This slight nourishment suffices, and supports them during very long courses.

There are other Arabs, whose way of living is still more wretched and miserable. These are the unconquered hordes, who inhabit spots inaccessible. They have no fixed possession or place of abode. If they sometimes sow a small portion of land, and if they keep flocks, as they are then obliged to settle in the plains, they never fail to be robbed. These wretched people, therefore, retire to the thick impenetrable woods, to frightful defiles between the mountains, or to caverns in the rocks. They live separate, one from the other, and are obliged, as we may say, to nourish themselves with the grass of the field. Wild fruits, tender roots, and the young shoots of plants supply them with food. The greater part have fire-arms, which are considered as the most valuable inheritance that a father can leave to his son. They might employ them in hunting, but as they find it very difficult to procure powder and shot, they keep them to defend their liberty. They prefer independence and misery to a more tranquil life, which they could not enjoy in many parts of Arabia; but, by submitting like the rest of their countrymen to the government of the Turks. These Arabs are the most cruel of all, and so eagerly do they thirst after human blood, as to make it easily be believed that there are canibals among them. No one dares to penetrate into the defiles of their mountains. The sovereigns of the country have, sometimes, carried thither considerable armies; but their enterprises have always miscarried. Either the troops have been cut to pieces in the narrow passes, or the Arabs have dispersed and taken shelter in the interior parts of their mountains. Sometimes they descend to the level country, and plunder the neighbouring nations. Their figure is horrible; they are lank and meagre, covered with rags, and disgusting on account of their dirtiness. They never attack travellers, except when in large bodies; but, as they live at a distance one from the other, when a traveller makes no stay among them, and does not give them time to assemble, he may pass in many places without danger.

Though half savage, in appearance, the Arabs have certain received signs to express friendship and respect.—Signs, which among them have as little sincerity as among us. The most usual salutation, when the Arabs meet, is to put the right-hand on the breast, and to incline the head; and in this posture to wish each other a good day. They enquire afterwards, concerning the health of their relations, naming them in order, and do not forget to ask respecting the mare, the flock, the tent, &c. If they are Arabs who are acquainted, they embrace one another reciprocally kissing each others face and shoulders, or they only lay hold of each other's hands, and kiss one another. Those among whom an intimate familiarity subsists, when they meet one another, frequently do nothing but touch the extremity of each other's fingers, after which each puts his own to his mouth and kisses them.

When the Arabs accost any person of dignified rank, such as a chief, a bey, or a kaidi, they kiss their hand with great respect. A mark of favour, on the part of the great man, is to present the palm of his hands to the subjects who come to render him homage, and whom he wishes to distinguish from others; generally he presents only the back part of his hand. In short, as a greater mark of submission, they kiss his head, his shoulders, his turban, and his cloaths. There are some, even, who prostrate themselves, by placing one knee on the earth. An Arab never approaches a great man, without pulling off his flippers.

When two Arabs meet on the highway, they salute each other, and ask all the questions above mentioned. without stopping, and even when pursuing their journey in different directions: hence, it often happens, that they are too far asunder to be understood, when they have got to the end of their questions. This, however, does not prevent them from going on.

In conversation, their gestures are lively, graceful, and expressive. When we study them with attention, it is not difficult to comprehend the subject of their discourse. Their accent is strong and sharp, and the sound of their voice is sonorous, and may be heard very far. Their being habituated to live in the open fields, and to speak to one another at a great distance, makes them acquire, from infancy, a custom of speaking very loud.

The Arabs do not affix to eructation the same idea of rusticity and indelicacy, as do the Europeans. On the contrary, when any one belches or sneezes, they offer up vows for his health. They say saha, which signifies, may it do you good. They use this expression upon many other occasions. When any of them eats, drinks, or smokes, they say to him saha, a compliment much juster than that used by us, when we drink to any one's health.

When the Arabs are at rest, their usual posture is not cross-legged, like the Turks; they sit squatting, with their fuzee upright between their knees; for they never quit their arms, except when in their tents. In this manner they pass whole days in doing nothing; and consider themselves exceeding happy, when they can give themselves up to this idleness.

The only method of travelling commodiously, in this country, is to have a tent to ones self, says Abbé Poiret, and to lay in a sufficiency of provisions; but sometimes this precaution is impossible. In such a case, a traveller must be contented to put up with the tents of the Arabs, dirty and disgusting as they are; but above all, he must accustom himself to their coarse and unpalatable food. How often must he depart in the morning, without knowing where he will arrive in the evening! How oft, losing himself in these desarts, must he search out his way amidst thorny brakes, thick forests, steep rocks, and burning sands; sometimes stopped by a river, which he must wade through, by a lake which he must walk round, or by a marsh which he cannot cross without danger; sometimes scorched by the sun▪ or drenched by the rain, and at others dying with thirst, without being able to find the smallest spring to quench it! If he carries no provisions with him, it will be impossible that he should get any refreshment before night. This is the only time at which the Arabs make a regular repast, or can offer any food to a stranger.

But, when night arrives, that period of repose for travellers in Europe, it is not so here. He must then choose out a dry situation, and well sheltered to erect his tent; he must unsaddle his horses, unload his mules, cut wood, light fires, and take every precaution that prudence directs to protect himself against ferocious animals and robbers. It is safest to encamp not far from the tents of the Arabs, when they can be found. They furnish many succours when they are tractable; and they are always so, when they see a person with a sufficient guard.

It is on the bare ground, or at most covered with a mat, that the Arabs repose; and, it is thus that the traveller must resolve to pass the night, unless he be provided with a mattrass; which, however, he must renounce, when he meets with much rain. Besides, as all his luggage is incommodious, it will be better to adopt at first the custom of the Arabs, to which one must come either soon or late.

There are a multitude of national prejudices, remarks the Abbé very justly, that one cannot get rid of without having been engaged in such journies as these. All civilized nations resemble one another. The characteristic marks which distinguish them, are act sufficiently prominent to observe them; we must have a delicacy and acuteness of judgment far above the common. Every nation, without doubt, has its peculiar character, customs and manners, but they are all guided by common principles; and all, more or less, enlightened by the arts and sciences, endeavour to unite around them the conveniences and comforts of life. Amongst a polished people, genius, ever active and lively, is continually inventing and bringing something to perfection: it embellishes the habitation of man, and converts to his use the productions of nature; but these boasted conveniences, these events of social life, are so many bonds, which render man a slave to a number of fictitious wants; and make him an unhappy being, when his riches or labour cannot supply them. Accustomed from infancy to enjoy these advantages, we believe them to be so essential to our existence, that to procure them, we forget the labour, the fatigue, and the pain which they cost us. We exhaust our strength, destroy our health, and sacrifice our most valuable moments to the acquisition of a fortune, which often escapes from us; and even on the brink of the grave, we still form grand projects, in the hopes of possessing a false happiness, which death in a moment snatches from us. Born amidst such prejudices, says the Abbé, I lamented those wandering tribes to whom our discoveries are unknown, and who have neither bread, beds, nor houses.

Experience has undeceived me. I not only know those men, whom I thought so wretched, but I have resided among them, and lived in the same manner. I followed their customs at first through necessity, and afterwards adopted them from habit. They eat no bread; they are ignorant of the art of cooking victuals, and water is their only drink. But what is the con•equence? They are more healthy, more robust, and diseases are uncommon among them. They have no houses; but in this happy climate a piece of canvass, a hut covered with leaves, or the hollow of a rock, is sufficient in the worst weather, to defend one from the injuries of the air. They sleep in their clothes, and often amidst moisture. Would it not, therefore, appear they must be attacked by that croud of distempers with which medicine threatens those in Europe who should attempt the same thing? I was a little frightened, when I found myself obliged, for the first time, to repose in an Arabian hut; I slept well, but finding my clothes wet when I awoke, I was apprehensive for my health. Luckily I felt no other inconvenience than that of having my sides a little sore: but this was of no consequence; they were soon accustomed to the hard earth for a bed, as well as my head to my saddle, for a pillow. With a little custom, one sleeps as soundly in this manner, as in a bed surrounded by curtains. Sleep, which then never exceeds the bounds prescribed by nature, diffuses the balsam of health through all the organs. Respiration becomes more lively, and we seem animated by a new existence, which one would regret to lose by too much indulgence.

Besides this, at the moment when one awakes, there is another pleasure which few can appreciate, because few know how to enjoy the beauties of nature. In the midst of these silent desarts, when the morning appears, the horizon glows with its ruddy light, and its rays gild the summits of the distant mountains. By little and little, the plains are illumined, surrounding objects appear distinctly, the flowers expand, and scent the gale with their perfume; the birds shake their plumage, and salute the new day; and, in a moment, all nature is enlivened, and every where presents the most enchanting prospects. The goat is suspended on the projecting rocks; the ox crops his food in the verdant mead; the lamb bleats by the side of its mother; and the whole country becomes a true picture of pastoral life. These are pleasures unknown to those who can sleep only in some gloomy alcove.

Marriages among the Arabs is nothing but a name. They purchase one, two, or three women, as they are able to maintain them; keep them as long as they please, and afterwards dismiss the• without any formality. No people can be more wretched than these women. Their husbands are real despots, who exercise the most absolute authority over them, and treat them with the utmost contempt. Marriage here, remarks the Abbé again, is not a contract which requires even the consent of both parties. It is a bargain, concluded between the parents of the woman, and the person who intends to espouse her. In order to obtain her, he has no need to win her heart, or merit her good graces; for, if he presents himself with one or two beautiful cows, well fed, he is certain of being favourably received. The parents keep the cows, and deliver over their daughter in their stead. Whether she is to be happy, or unhappy, is not their business: she is sold. If she displeases her husband, he sends her back to her parents, and purchases another, or even several, as we have above remarked. If the repudiated woman happens to please another, she will cost him less; as she has before had another husband.

To the woman is committed the whole management of the family, which is sometimes very fatiguing; when these Arab hordes often change the place of their residence. To grind corn, to make it into courcousan, to cook it, to milk the cows, and to churn the 〈1 page duplicate〉 〈1 page duplicate〉 〈1 page duplicate〉 〈1 page duplicate〉 butter, all belong to the women; but this is the easiest part. Whilst the men pass their lives in idleness, they leave to the women the severest labours. It is they who cut wood, and who, with great fatigue, carry it on their shoulders. Their burdens are often so enormous, says the Abbé, that I could not distinguish, till very near, under a branchy load, a small human figure, disgusting with sweat, and extenuated with toil. It is they, also, who often sow and till the earth. Their hardships, however, are still greater, when it is necessary to pull up the poles of their tents. The husband mounts his horse very peaceably, without any other incumbrance except his arms; while the wife walks on foot, loaded with kitchen furniture, and sometimes with the tent, when there is no animal to carry it. The husband often has the cruelty to beat her very severely, when in such a situation she is not able to keep up with his horse. Thus is she obliged to travel across burning sands, having nothing either often, to eat or to drink.

The slave, rather than the companion of her husband, she can expect from him neither tenderness nor affection. He never speaks, but as an imperious master, who is sensible of that superiority which nature has given him over the woman, by making him stronger. These unhappy wretches are subordinate to their children, and even to their slaves; they never eat till these have finished, and they are obliged to be contented with what they leave. When they are not called abroad by labour, they remain shut up in their tents; where they sit squatting amidst silth and vermin. They almost all have the itch, and diffuse an infectious smell every where around them. Their dress consists only of a few greasy rags, which they never wash. They have no linen, and carry their whole paltry wardrobe along with them.

Employed in continual exercise, their being with child is no reason for diminishing their labours; they are never interrupted, but at the moment when they bring forth. They have neither midwives nor surgeons amongst them. They all deliver themselves, and their bed of pain is the bare ground. Several of them wash their children as soon as they are born, and wrap them up in the corner of their robe; in other respects, they abandon them to nature, and allow them nothing but what is necessary to support their existence. When scarcely brought to bed, these women resume their labours; to which is added, that of feeding their children. Though little cared for, extended on a small bundle of stra•, scarcely covered with a few rags, without swaddling clothes, and without bandages; these children, however, become strong and vigorous n a little time, and soon follow their mother to the fields.

The Arabs of the mountains are much less jealous than those of the towns; none but the chiefs keep their wives shut up. The rest, though they might wish to do it, could not, unless they were resolved to supply their places in domestic labours; but, in them, laziness is much more predominant than jealousy. These women never have their faces covered, though they ought to use veils, to hide their ugliness, rather than to conceal their beauty. Their complexion is like soot; their skin is dry and parched, and their whole body is painted with different fantastical figures. Scarce have they passed the bounds of infancy, when the signs of premature old age appear on their countenances. They are early deformed by wrinkles; but it is easily perceived, that they are only the effects of forced labour and misfortune, and not the ravages of years. The attracting graces of youth have not time to display themselves; and, from infancy to old age, there is scarcely any gradation. Dead eyes, a cast-down and disordered look, hollow cheeks, a back bent by excess of labour, signs of the greatest misery in the whole external appearance, dejection, heaviness, and the most gloomy melancholy, form the portrait of the greater part of the Arab mountaineers. They marry very young, bring forth few children, and early terminate their unfortunate career.

In cities, the women lose in point of liberty, as much as they gain in point of labour. By the jealousy of their husbands, they are subjected to perpetual imprisonment. Women of distinction never go abroad; those who are seen in the streets, are of the lowest class; and even these wear a very large and thick white veil, which reaches to their knees. They have their faces also covered with another veil, which is applied like a mask. Their under dress is a large white sheet, or blanket, arranged in the form of a robe. They all have long drawers, which descend to their heels; and, on their feet, they wear high-heeled shoes. In such a dress, these women appear as if wrapt up in a large bale of cloth; and it is impossible to judge what they are, under such a covering, which entirely conceals all their graces. In their houses, they lay aside part of their dress; and, in the evening, when their husbands are at the mosques, it is not uncommon to see them enjoying the cool air on their terraces; but they instantly disappear at the sight of a man—that is, of a mussulman—for they are very fond of the christians; and, when they perceive them, readily expose to their view, every thing the jealousy of their husbands obliges them to hide. With such a disposition, and above all under such a constraint, an intrigue might be soon formed and terminated; but here, there is no greater crime than gallantry, especially in an European. If he is caught, death is inevitable; and there are no other means of escaping it, except embracing the religion of Mahomet, and espousing the woman that has been seduced. If she be married, there is no resource for either of the parties. The woman is enclosed in a sack, and thrown into the sea; and the man is burnt alive, or cut into a thousand pieces.

CHAP. IV. Education.

THE following observations of the Abbé Poiret, respecting the education of the Arabs, will, perhaps, not prove unacceptable to our readers. I was surprised, says this writer, to find a public school in one of their douares; and still more so, to find it under the direction of a person who was blind. This Arab collected in his tent, about a dozen children of both sexes, whom he taught to read and write. I observed, that their countenances bore no marks of weariness or disgust, which are too common in our schools of Europe; labour, on the contrary, appeared to them like amusement. They had only one book, the koran, which the master knew by heart; and, on that account, he was able to follow his scholars, and to correct them, when they went wrong. They chaunted their lessons, each with good humour, and in a different tone; and, though this music was not very engaging, I saw, with pleasure, that, among these savage hordes, the infancy of man is not abandoned to cruel and merciless tyrants, who often blast the rising flowers of genius at an early period of life. The farthest advanced taught the younger branches to write, under the direction of the master. Instead of paper, they had pieces of board covered over with a kind of varnish; a bit of reed, cut in a very rude manner, supplied the place of a pen; and yet, with this coarse apparatus, they wrote well, and with great expedition. When they had thoroughly learned their task, they washed their tablets, upon which another was written; and this always some sentence from the koran. As soon as the time of their remaining in school was expired, each child embraced the master, (who treated them with great mildness and affability,) and returned him thanks for his attention. How reverse is such a treatment, from that of one of our surly pedagoues, who knows no other plan, but that of inspiring children with sentiments of fear and disgust!

In the greater part of what are called civilized nations, children scarce come into the world, before they are dressed out like puppets. They are made to repeat by rote, a few Latin lines; they are taught, above all, to behave with politeness; that is to say, to dissemble and lie; and they are afterwards whipped, for these faults, when their parents themselves are the first victims of their own folly. Among the Arabs, the case is quite different: children there are entirely abandoned to nature; they are seldom caressed, and never beaten. Left to themselves, they are employed only in exercises suited to their age: they run, sport, quarrel, and become friends; the most ardent heat does not intimidate them; dampness and cold never hurt them; they throw themselves into the water, when covered with sweat, and never sit down till they have quenched their thirst. They can scarcely walk, when they accompany their fathers, to watch their flocks; mount on the back of the fiercest bull, and learn, without bridle, and without spurs, to manage the most untractable courser. Familiar with every animal, they caress the sheep, play with the goat, and, in close pursuit, follow the ox, which escapes. By these exercises, in which they delight, and to which they are never compelled, they become nimble, vigorous, and robust; and are enured to that kind of life for which they are destined.

They are accustomed early to bear hunger, thirst, and the most laborious journeys, without complaining. Their parents do not spoil them, by sedulous and minute attention. An over tender mother, never runs to wipe the sweat from the dirty forehead of her son; if he complains, he is not heard; and if he cries, she is insensible to his tears, which are never the means of obtaining what he desires. He is never prevented from doing what he chuses, but his parents never humour his caprice. If he wishes for any thing, he must procure it himself; if he cannot, he must give it up, and remain contented. He never asks for any thing; he searches for it; and, by this, he accustoms himself to suit his desires to his situation. But this want of complaisance on the part of the parents, and this kind of independence in the children, do not establish, between father and son, those gentle bands, and that tender relation, which, to feeling hearts, are the highest enjoyments of life. As soon as children can support themselves, without the help of those to whom they owe their existence, they often abandon them; and they become afterwards, strangers to one another. Their common fate gives them little concern, unless they are united by reciprocal interest; affection for parents, is, therefore, a sentiment almost unknown to the heart of an Arab; a brother is often an enemy to a brother; and the ties of blood, which are thought to be so strong among mankind, are here of little force.

With regard to the real character of children, it is the same in Arabia, as elsewhere. Some of them, as in Europe, are eager, lively, full of spirits, and of petulance: their reason, though never cultivated, is much forwarder th•n that of children in Europe. Amongst us, a boy of twelve or thirteen, scarcely knows how to speak before people older than himself. He is timid, bashful, and dull. On the other hand, the young Arab, wandering in the open plains surrounded by tents, herds, and flocks, and enjoying in full liberty, all the pleasures of youth, the bounties of nature encrease his ideas, even with the objects of his delight. As he is restrained by no dread, nor checked by any sense of decency, he speaks his sentiments in a firm and manly tone, without being in the least abashed. If he wishes to be heard, he is under the necessity of attracting the attention of those to whom he addresses himself; otherwise, he receives no reply. If he asks questions, none of them are answered, but as they deserve it; but, at the same time, if what he says appears to be just, he is heard with attention, and treated as a man; and this mark of distinction inspires him with the desire of acting like one. Thus, without much trouble, without masters, and without tutors, the young Arab, formed by nature, early acquires those ideas which relate to his occupation; as well as that vigour and noble carriage which announce the dignity of man. Their gestures are not stiff, but natural; and their pace is neither too quick nor too slow. It is firm and manly; but it is only during infancy, that the Arabs can follow the dictates of nature. Their mild and simple manners, gradually destroyed by brutal prejudices, by the sanguinary dispositions of their fathers, corrupted by the shameful irregularities to which they abandon themselves, totally disappear; and the blood-thirsty savage is substituted to the man of nature.

One of the first prejudices, instilled into a child, is an implacable hatred against all christians; and this idea becomes so strengthened by age, that there is not a single Arab, who does not consider it a meritorious action, to deprive one of life I have been, says Abbé Poïret, often greatly harrassed by these children, who flocked round me, as I approached the tents; and I was even under the necessity of putting up with the grossest insults I received from them. Had I attempted to have corrected any of them, their fathers would not have failed to have taken their part, and to have revenged, at my expence, an injury done by a dog, to a servant of Mahomet.

The Arabs hate us, at present, without knowing the reason why, remarks the Abbé. Their ancestors, however, knew it well. The most unjust wars, to which fanaticism gave the name of holy, carried on, both in Africa and the East, incensed against us immense nations; who, at that time, had done no other hurt, than that of following the religion of Mahomet, whilst we followed that of Jesus. These enterprizes were the cause of shedding much blood, and terminated by drawing upon us, from the offended nations, a just hatred. The name of Christian, has always continued to be execrated in all the different countries of the Levant, in Syria, Arabia, Persia, Armenia, Egypt, Barbary, &c. Fathers have transmitted this hatred to their children. In passing from one generation to another, the cause has been forgotten, but the hatred has remained. It is thus that we pay, at present, for the faults committed by our ancestors, more than six hundred years ago.

I have many times seen some of the women, who had never met a Christian, shudder when I appeared, and fly from me, as if I had been a monster. However, by means of some little present, I always rendered them more tractable; and when I had familiarized them so far that they ventured to look at me, they appeared astonished when they found me like another man. Several of them could not be persuaded I was a Christian; they particularly examined my gloves, which were green, taking that to be the colour of the skin. When I pulled them off, they were in the utmost amazement. Every attempt that I made to explain their utility, was in vain; for, as these people are acquainted only with what is necessary, they laugh at all superfluities. They think themselves superior to us, because they have fewer wants; and, indeed, it must be owned, they are in the right. How often, by their raillery, have they given me useful lessons! I was accustomed, when I eat of their courcousan, to use a spoon, instead of forming it into balls with my fingers, like them. They laughed much at this superfluous piece of furniture, which self-love made me renounce; and I perceived, that, notwithstanding my awkwardness in using my fingers, they esteemed me more, when they saw I abandoned my own customs to adopt theirs. Thus are all the commodities, so much boasted of in Europe, treated in the desart. In the eyes of an Arab mountaineer, luxury is contemptible; and the strongest proof to him of our meanness, is our effeminacy.

CHAP. V. Religion.

THE Arabs follow, in a rude manner, the reliligion of Mahomet. They intermix it with many superstitions; and, attached to certain external ceremonies, seem to be ignorant of its real spirit. They observe very strictly the Ramadan, the Beiram, prayer, ablution, and circumcision; but few of them, however, abstain from wine.

There are some, who, under the title of Papas, wear chaplets, hanging from their necks, composed of large beads, and who preside at religious ceremonies, such as prayer, marriages, funerals, &c. but the people can readily dispense with their services. They employ their chaplets, as in Roman Catholic countries, to count the number of their prayers; and every time they drop a bead from their fingers, they say, How great is God! There is only one God, and Mahomet is his prophet. In this exclamation, and raising their thoughts towards God, all their prayers consist. These prayers they repeat wherever they may be; on a journey, in the midst of their labour, and in the silence of retirement. They pronounce their words with a strong emphasis, as if animated with some lively sensation, and struck with the majesty and beneficence of the Deity. Their manners, however, are quite contrary to these ideas.

Ablution, among the Arabs, is not observed in so rigorous a manner, as among the Turks. It is sufficient, if they wash some part of their bodies, such as the arms, hands, feet, visage, and beard, which they generally do in the morning, in the evening, and after meals. Several of them neglect this practice; but they are more attentive to their prayers, which they every where repeat. Wherever they may be, whether in the tents, or in the fields, they throw themselves on their knees, cover their heads with their clothes, prostrate themselves three times on the earth, rise up, and kneel down, alternately, pronouncing each time, "How great is God! Mahomet is his prophet." During the Ramadan, which continues one moon, they take no food till after sun-set; and they even abstain from water, and from smoking. They suffer their hair to grow, and neither wash their clothes, nor shave their beards; they even affect to appear covered with filth and dirt. They do the same when they lose a near relation, or when they have the death of any one to revenge.

To the Ramadan succeeds the Beiram, which continues several days. The Arabs then dress themselves in their best clothes, shave their beards, and indulge in diversions and feasting. Different tribes visit each other reciprocally, and all enmity seems to be forgotten: but only during this festival.

The return of the new year is also a festival, ushered in with entertainments, consecrated to joy and pleasure. On the evening before new year's-day, as well as upon every other grand festival, those who are appointed to invite the people to prayer, call out much longer, and with a louder voice, than at other times, as grand solemnities are announced among us by a greater number of bells.

The extravagant follies, to which the Arabs give themselves up at that season, though different, have some resemblance to a Carnival. The most common farce consists in spreading out a lion's skin over the shoulders of four Arabs, concealed under a large carpet, which reaches to their legs. This fantastic lion has a long chain about his neck, and is led by another Arab. Several others play on a tabor and flute; whilst the lion, and some dancers, perform very grotesque dances; others covers themselves with the skin of a camel, instead of the skin of a lion. In this disguise they enter every house, to which they can find access, followed by a croud of the populace, and, above all, children, who bear in their hands the figures of a camel, and a lion. They receive some pieces of money, from every person in whose house they have exhibited their dances.

The laws of hospitality are held sacred among the Arabs; at least, among those who are under the direction of a chief. The Mahometan stranger, who arrives among them, is received with apparent cordiality; he is presented with courcousan, and is introduced into a tent, to repose, during the night. Were he the most avowed enemy, when he is once admitted into the douare, he has seldom occasion to fear treachery. This, however, is not that generous and respectable hospitality, which, formed among the ancient patriarchs, as well as among the Romans, the sweetest bonds of fraternal friendship; which brought together strangers of all countries, and which honoured humanity by anticipating their wants. The Arabs respect the life of their guest, whilst he is in their tents; but, if they have resolved to destroy him, they wait until he has left the douare; they then massacre, without pity, him, whom the evening before they treated as a friend.

The system of predestination, so generally adopted by the Mahometans, renders the Arabs almost indifferent with regard to whatever may befall them. They never complain of their situation; each is contented with his own: satisfied with the present, they forget the past, care little for the future, and consider death as a necessary event, to which they submit without murmuring.

Have their flocks and tents been carried away?—Are they threatened by some great danger, persecuted by their chief, or driven from their possessions?—Amidst the greatest misfortunes, they make use of no other expression but this, God will have it so. I have seen, says Poiret, some of them, who, when cited by their sovereigns, to appear before them; and, when almost certain of being sacrificed to their avarice, departed with astonishing composure. If any emotion of fear arose in their souls, the idea of predestination produced a calm, and silenced the voice of nature. It is also to this comforting prepossession that they are indebted for that indifference, with which they behold the plague exercising the greatest ravages amongst them. How often have I seen them, during this destructive contagion, wait for death without the least emotion; discharge all the duties of humanity to those who were insected, cleans their ulcers, inter the dead; and, without any precaution, put on the clothes of those who had perished by this cruel malady! They are not, however, ignorant of the dangers of communication; but they destroy every objection by these words, My destiny is written; God will have it so.

The Arabs, however, do not give to predestination the same extent that we do. They apply it only to physical events, and seldom to moral actions. They believe in free-will; and, rather attached to the exterior rites of their religion, give themselves up to the ferocity of their character, without seeming to reflect on the morality of their actions. Hence arise a multitude of false deductions and inconsistencies, which are not surprizing in a nation rude and ignorant; and hence, those numerous errors in the relations of travellers, who have resided only for a short time among those people, whose manners they wished to describe. Whoever, for example, newly landed upon their coasts, should advance towards the infected tent; whoever should have seen the father of a family distribute, without a tear, to his wives and children, the cloth which was to wrap up their bodies after death; and the latter receive it with a stoic tranquillity, would, undoubtedly, imagine himself transported into a society of philosophers; especially if he should be present at the festivals, dances, and public marks of joy which they exhibit, amidst the ravages of the plague. What would he think, on seeing a son discharge towards his father, the last duties of humanity; and, without considering the danger of contact, take the clothes from his body, wash it with care, and commit it to the earth with his own hands?

Such actions, among us, would be considered as heroic. Among the Arabs, they are only the consequences of their system. To undeceive them, on this head, would be destroying their tranquillity, amidst the despotism and continual alarms which oppress them. This system, in our religion, would open a door to every crime, by depriving us of moral liberty; but, among the Mahometans, it produces resignation to the will of the Supreme Being; and, is attended with no other inconvenience, than that of making them neglect those precautions, which are necessary to guard them from physical evils. Dangerous in the religion of a Christian; it becomes a master-piece of policy and philosophy: in that of a Mahometan, it differs little from that resignation to Providence, enjoined by Christianity, but ill understood, and carried too far among Mahometans.

It is also from the principles of their religion, that the Arabs have a kind of veneration for idiots, whom they consider as saints, and privileged beings, favoured by heaven. I saw one, says Poiret, who was perfectly naked; he entered, with freedom, into all the tents, and presented himself before the women, without giving the least offence to their husbands. To stop him, or to treat him with rudeness, would have been an action worthy of punishment. He could go and eat where he chose, and no one refused to give him what he wished for. Even the scheik himself endured his importunities and familiarity, with a most astonishing complaisance.

CHAP. VI. Diseases and Funerals.

THE Arabs are unacquainted with any other physician than nature; or with any other remedies than those presented by ignorance and superstition. This nation, which formerly gave birth to so many celebrated and able men, for curing the ills of humanity, who were the fathers of medicine, is, at present, even ignorant of its former splendor; and has resigned, to other kingdoms, the lamp it first lighted. It is rather, however, from ignorance, than contempt, that the Arabs, in their maladies, have no recourse to medicine. The European physicians, who happen to be amongst them, are very well received; and, this character is the only thing that can make them respect the life of a stranger. What is very singular, is, that these men, who are often not sensible of their being indisposed, when they really are so, become sick, at least in imagination, when they see a physician; eager to receive his assistance, and fearing to let slip the opportunity, they examine their health so scrupulously, that there are few of them who do not think themselves under the necessity of taking physic, were it only by the way of a preventative. Not daring to decide themselves, whether they are well or not, they present their arms to the physician, that he may feel their pulse; and they can scarce believe his decision, when he assures them, they are in good health. They have so much confidence in letting blood, that the healthiest think they have occasion for this operation, which they consider as an universal remedy. For want of a surgeon, they often bleed themselves, by a process, which would be very terrible to those delicate people, who faint at the sight of a lancet.

The person, who is to perform the operation, begins binding a bandage round the neck of his patient, so closely, that he is almost strangled. When the veins of the forehead appear swelled, by the blood checked in its circulation, the operator makes four or five incisions, with a razor; and, in a moment, the patient's face is covered with blood, the effusion of which is assisted, by rolling a cylindric bit of wood over the incisions. Sometimes the Arabs bleed themselves in the feet, but always by pursuing the same method. When the operation is finished, they wash the wounds, apply to them a little clayey earth, softened in water, and bind them up with a handkerchief. This operation does not prevent them from immediately following their usual occupations. To this is all the medicine of the Arabs confined, except a few particular remedies, preserved by tradition, and administered with a certain mixture of superstition. They have also much faith in amulets and talismans.

The Arabs, it is true, are not acquainted with that multitude of disorders, the consequence of luxury and intemperance. Those, to which they are most subject, arise from their excessive filthiness, from the marshy places they inhabit, from their excesses with women, or from the badness of their food. These are cutaneous disorders, intermittent or putrid fevers, rheumatism, and wasting of the humours and blood.

In continual wars with one another, the Arabs are much exposed to gun-shot wounds, and fractures; but they leave them entirely to nature. Some cure, and others preserve natural ulcers, which they retain during life. But, if the Arabs do not derive the same assistance from medicine as we do, they do not feel its inconveniences: their imaginations are not frightened by the decisions of a physician; and the various medicines, with which the apartments of our sick are furnished, neither offend their fight, nor damp their courage. As it is not necessary, on account of religion, or of their civil affairs, that they should be forewarned of their last hour; they expire without thinking on death. As long as they can move, they walk; if they cannot, they remain in one spot, stretched out on the earth, without ever pulling off their clothes. If the sick person foresees his last moment, he turns his face towards the East, and dies calmly, recommending himself to Mahomet.

Those Arabs, who set little value on the lives of mankind, respect their remains, and take the utmost care of their interment: the want of it, they consider as one of the greatest misfortunes that can happen; and, in the present desolation, they die with composure, when they are certain to leave some one behind, who will bury them. The severest punishment, therefore, among them, is to be cut in pieces, and thrown to the dogs. Their funeral ceremonies, says Poiret, as far as I have had an opportunity of observing them, are as follow:

Scarce has an Arab breathed his last, when his body is carefully washed; after which it is wrapped in a winding-sheet, of white cloth, reserved for that purpose. This cloth is manufactured in the towns of Arabia; but they set the highest value upon that brought from Mecca, and which has been blessed by the principal Iman. The benediction is expensive; but the singular favours annexed to it, make them forget what it costs.

As soon as the dead body is purified, it is placed upon a kind of litter, and carried to the place of interment, either on horseback, or by the friends and relations of the deceased. While the men are employed in digging the grave, the women squat down in a circle round the body, which they feel and uncover; and, afterwards, converse together with much indifference; but every now and then they break off their discourse, to give vent to their lamentations, to ask the body questions, and to beseech it, in the most earnest manner, to return again, and take up its abode among them. "Why," say they, "hast thou quitted us? Did we not prepare thy courcousan well? Alas! shall thy children then behold thee no more? Ah! return again; nothing shall be wanting to thee. But thou hearest no more; thou no longer givest an answer to our words; thou hearest only our sighs, &c." These dismal lamentations, which display a natural and pathetic eloquence, would have a powerful effect in moving the heart of a spectator; did he not see these very women, a moment after, throw aside that external appearance of the deepest grief, talk and laugh together, and afterwards return to their former lamentations.

During these tender complaints, they tear their hair, and open the veins of their temples, with their nails; while the blood trickles down, mingled with their tears, and exhibits an appearance of the deepest despair. When the grave is finished, the body is deposited in it, on its side, and with the face turned towards the East. One of their papas puts into its hands a letter of recommendation to Mahomet; after which a kind of arch is formed over it, with the branches of trees, in order that the earth may not touch it. When the grave is covered with earth, other branches of trees are laid over it, and a quantity of large stones, to prevent savage animals from devouring the body, in the night time. In the middle of the stones an opening is left, where they deposit earthen vessels, and other family utensils; but this is only done to Arabs of rank. Before they quit the grave, they erect in the middle of it, a kind of funeral flag; which is, generally, a piece of the clothes of the deceased, fixed to the end of a stick. When the ceremony is finished, each returns home with the greatest tranquillity; and, without shewing, in their exterior appearance, any signs of the melancholy duty which they had been discharging.

The nearest relations and friends of the deceased go, from time to time, to visit his tomb. They remove some stones from it; and, in part, uncover the body, to see that the person has not returned to life; and, when the smell convinces them of the contrary, they renew their wailings and lamentations. Some scatter a little lime over the stones, to make this rude tomb look somewhat brighter. On every holiday, the Arabs go in crouds, to visit the tombs of their dead, and to bedew them with their tears.

The Arabs, also, as is customary among us, pay reciprocal visits, in order to condole with one another. When any of them has lost a relation, all his friends and neighbours go to visit him. The men visit the men, and the women do the same to those of their own sex; and, on the first interview, both parties begin to weep, and to send forth loud and lamentable cries. These cries are proportioned, to shew their dignity. When a person mourns for a superior, he howls with all his might; for an equal, his noise is not quite so loud. Chiefs give vent only to a few sighs, unless it be for another chief. All this is generally prescribed. A moment after, their joy is renewed, and they think no more of their mourning, except a stranger arrives, with whom they must commence their howlings afresh. These ceremonies are not confined to one visit; they are repeated during eight days, or a fortni•ht, and sometimes much longer. When they are informed of the death of an Arab, in douare, where any of the relations of the deceased reside, men, women, and children, all immediately begin to howl, as loud as they possibly can. The dogs too, frightened by their horrid din, join in chorus; but their grief is soon allayed, and tranquillity is again restored.

In cities, those who are devout, consider it as a very great act of religion, to convey the dead to the grave. If they see a funeral passing, they instantly quit their occupations, and take the places of those who carry the coffin, until they are relieved by others. The honour of interring the dead is not entrusted to mercenary hands; it is the duty of the nearest relation. Fathers inter their children, children their parents; and thus, in order, according to the degree of relationship. One or more papas always assist at these ceremonies who sing, or rec••e some verses of the Alcoran, and give the deceased a recommendatory epistle to the holy prophet.

MAP of ITALY. with the Islands of SICILY. SARDINIA and CORSICA.

A DESCRIPTION OF ITALY, FROM BUSCHIN, MARTYN, MILLER, PIOZZI, BARETTI, KEYSLER, ADDISON, SHARP, SHERLOCK, GROSLEY, NORTHALL, &c.

CHAP. I.

THE general name of Italy was probably derived from Aetolia, a Grecian nation, opposite to this country, from which it is separated only by the Adriatic gulph. The southern part was inhabited by various tribes, who communicated their names to the several subdivisions; as the Latins, Sabines, Tuscans, Samnites, and so on.

According to the earliest accounts in history, this beautiful peninsula was in the same situation as it is now, cantoned out into various little states, and republics, all living in distrust, and at variance with each other.

We have different computations of the extent of Italy, according to the different notions, that ancient and modern writers have entertained of the proper boundaries of this country: let it suffice, however, that from the frontiers of Switzerland, to the extremity of the kingdom of Naples, it is about seven hundred and fifty miles in length; and, from the frontiers of the duchy of Savoy, to those of the dominions of the state of Venice, which is its greatest breadth, about four hundred miles; though, in some parts, it is scarce a fourth part as broad.

It is bounded by the Alps, which separates it from France, Switzerland, and Germany, towards the North and North-west; by the gulph of Venice, or Adriatic sea, and the country of Trent, towards the East; by the Ionian sea, and strait of Messina, towards the South; and the Tuscan sea towards the West.

The principal mountains in Italy are, the Alps and Apennines. The Alps, which word, in its general acceptation, signifies high mountains, are a long chain of hills, beginning at the mouth of the river Var; and, after many irregular windings, terminating near the river Arsia, in Istria, in the Adriatic. They divide Italy from France, Switzerland and Germany, and are variously denominated according to their situation. The Appennine mountains take their rise near the Alps, on the sea-coast, in the territories of Genoa, and dividing Italy into almost two equal parts, reach to the straits that separate it from Sicily.

The largest and most remarkable rivers in Italy, are, 1. The Po, in Latin, Padus, or Eridanus, which rises in one of the highest mountains in the Alps. After receiving upwards of thirty small rivers, it empties itself into the Adriatic, by seven different mouths.

2. The Adige, in Latin Athesis, has its source likewise in the Alps, and waters the cities of Trent and Verona. It is the only large river in Lombardy; and, instead of joining the Po, runs, as this river does, into the Adriatic.

3. The Arno flows from the Appennine mountains, and falls into the Tuscan sea, near Pisa.

4. The Tiber, in Latin Tiberis, rises also out of the Apennine mountains; and, at a little distance from Rome, empties itself into the Tuscan sea.

Italy lies between the thirtieth, or, if we include Sicily, the thirty-seventh and forty-sixth degree of North latitude; therefore, the air of this country must be very different according to the different situations of the several countries of which it is composed. The Northern parts, that lie upon the Alps, are cold, and covered with snow in winter; the hills of the Apennine, which run almost the whole length of Italy, are also cold; but, the countries on the North of the Apennine, are temperate; and those on the South are warm. The Campania of Rome is unhealthy; and so is the Ferrarese, occasioned by bogs and stagnant waters. In other parts, the air is generally pure and dry; and, though Naples, from its Southern situation, might be thought the hottest; yet, being almost surrounded by the sea, it is continually refreshed by breezes from thence.

This country, says Busching, produces every thing in great plenty, for the uses and conveniences of life. All materials for enjoyment, and a variety of delicacies, which lie scattered, as it were, in other countries, are here almost every where met with in profusion. These consist of corn, rich wines, and the choicest fruits; such as oranges, citrons, lemons, olives, pomegranates, &c. oil, sugar, almonds, raisins; mulberry-trees beyond number, to facilitate the production of silk; tame and wild beasts, alabaster, jasper, iron, alum, sulphur, gold, silver, &c. On this account Italy is justly stiled, by writers, the parent of plenty: the source of earthly felicity; the pride of our globe; the garden of Europe; the beauty of the world, and even a microcosm within itself. But the fine plants, which, from time to time, have been brought into the Western countries from Italy, as the reputed mother of them, are not all originally natives, the far greater part being transplanted to the Italian soil, from the East. All the fruit-trees, the produce of which the Latins call mala, were transported to Italy, after the conquest of the Romans in Africa, Greece, Asia-Minor, and Syria. The apricots came from Epirus, and are called mala Epirotica; the peaches, mala Persica, from Persia; the citrons, mala Medica, from Media; the pomegranates, mala Punica, from Carthage; and chesnuts from Castania, in the district of Magnesia, in Macedonia. The best pears, as their names sufficiently indicate, were sent from Alexandria, Numidia, Greece, and Numantia. The first plumbs were imported from Armenia and Syria, and especially from Damascus. Lucius Lucullus, was the first who introduced cherry-trees from Pontus, which soon after became the growth of all other countries throughout Europe.

However rich and exuberant Italy may be deemed in general, yet no small difference is discernible, in respect to the futility, wholesomeness, and pleasantness of its provinces. It is subject to several, and great inconveniences, especially in the middle and lower parts, as will more particularly appear in the description of the respective territories. In some countries, the number of inhabitants is far from sufficient for the culture, and improvement of the soil. On considering the multitude of people in Italy, during the time of the Roman emperors, its present desolateness, which is most perceptible in the dominions of the Pope, cannot but appear surprizing. Mr. Addison, a judicious observer of men and things, is of opinion, that the Campania of ancient Rome, contained more people, than there are at present in all Italy; and, that there is not a town of any consequence, in the whole country, where the ecclesiastics make, if not half, at least one-third of the inhabitants.

Italy may be considered under three grand divisions: 1. Upper Italy, comprehending Lombardy, so as to include the principality of Piedmont; to which may be added, the dukedom of Savoy, though on this side the Alps; the duchies of Montserrat, Milan, Parma, Modena, and Mantua, with the republics of Genoa and Venice. 2. Middle Italy, containing the dominions of the pope, and the grand duke of Tuscany; with the republics of Lucca and St. Marino. 3. The lower, or Southern part of Italy, consisting of the kingdom of Naples. We will begin with the lower division, the kingdom of Naples, as being most proximate to the countries we have been speaking of, thence proceed to the second division, and end with the first, &c.

In giving an account of the several states, we will comprehend, in one description, the countries belonging to the same prince, whether on the continent, or in the islands.

A DESCRIPTION OF THE KINGDOM OF THE TWO SICILIES, FROM BUSCHING, MISSON, LASSELLES, RAY, KEYSLER, FORBES, CONDAMINE, GROSLEY, SWINBURNE, BRYDONE, NORTHALL, MARTIN, PIOZZI, MOORE, &c.
CHAP II. Of the Country, Climate, Productions.

THE provinces, of which the kingdom of Naples consists, were formerly a part of the dominions of the Roman Republic, and afterwards of the Emperors. It is now, by the vicissitudes of time, governed with the island of Sicily, by a son of the late king of Spain. From being once a Roman colony, it partook, as did Rome itself, of a number of very stately and magnificent edifices; which, by the hand of time, by earthquakes and wars, are now a scene of ruins; but
MAP of the KINGDOM of NAPLES and SICILY.

there is a secret pleasure, to the antiquary and man of learning, to travel over this classic ground; and view, in the many ruins he meets with, the ancient splendor and magnificence of their Roman masters.

The population of the kingdom of Naples, according to Busching, in 1782, was 4,675,000; that of Sicily, 1,300,000; and that of the Estates belonging to the King, 30 000; in the whole 6,005,000. Naples contains 1,274 square miles; Sicily, 576; the Estates of the King, 14; in the whole 1,864.

The kingdom of Naples, independent of the island of Sicily, which is part of the empire; and thus gives the title of King of the two Sicilies; I say the kingdom of Naples itself, called Lower Italy, is bounded on the North-east by the Ecclesiastical State, known by the name of the Pope's territories; and, on all the other parts, by the Mediterranean and Adriatic seas. Its extent, from South-east to North-west, is two hunhred and eighty English miles: from North east to South-west, from ninety six to one hundred and twenty miles. It is usually divided into four large provinces, Terra di Lavora, Abruzzo, Apulia, and Calabria; containing the old Samnium, Campania, Apulia, Lucania, and Brutium, with a little of Latium.

The old Appian road, made by the Romans, from Rome to Capua, and afterwards to the seaport Brundusium, runs almost through the whole extent of the kingdom of Naples, and is a wonderful work of man; which, in some parts of it, has both on the right and left, one continued row of ruined palaces, temples, aqueducts, and tombs. What a glorious sight must Italy have afforded to Northern Virtuosi, who came to see it in the time of the Upper Empire. This road is a causeway, made of the lava of Vesuvius, that liquid fiery substance, which the volcano has thrown out, from time to time, and which, on cooling, becomes as hard as rock, and as smooth as marble. This causeway, says Grosley, appeared evidently to me, to rest all along on solid masonry work, lined with small stones, of equal size with those of the upper side, which are about eighteen inches square, and bound together with cement, so as to form one solid block. In comparing roads of such a construction, with modern roads, the latter seem only as gravel walks; which, in course of time, without repair, would become mires, impassable by carriages: whereas, this pavement has continued, in many places, in the most perfect state, more than two thousand years; being begun three hundred and thirty-two years before Christ, by Appius Claudius, the censor. It is three hundred and sixty miles in length.

Fundi, is the frontier town of the kingdom of Naples, between this and the Ecclesiastical state. It stands upon a plain, sheltered by hills, which is seldom the case with Italian towns; but it has nothing very attractive to the traveller.

This country is extremely hot; and subjects foreigners, unless they take great care of themselves, to a sickly habit of body; particularly if they travel in July, August, or September. In the lower part of the kingdom, little winter is felt.

The summers, even at Naples, are so exceeding close and hot, that were it to happen only once in thirty or forty years, they would call it a plague. They sit in chairs, says Sharp, with only a thin callico gown, some days, for hours together; wholly occupied in wiping off the sweat, that runs in channels down their bodies. The winters here are exceedingly pleasant and wholesome; for, notwithstanding the rain, you see no damps on the stair-cases, nor on the walls of your chambers; their iron does not rust, as with us; nay, the paintings on the outside of their buildings, in fresco, remain for years. It is so warm, that the flies do not leave them all the year. The quantity of rain at Naples, is much more considerable, than that which falls on the same space of-ground in England. When the rainy season sets in, it commonly lasts several successive weeks, falling, not in such showers as we are accustomed to; having rain more or less, every month in the year, but, by pailfuls; an absolute water-spout, says Swinburne, that carries all before it, and almost drowns the unfortunate passenger, who is caught out of doors by the storm; and yet, Naples is so well paved, that immediately after the rain, the streets are clean and dry. Whole months of drought, are compensated by the deluge of a day; and, besides, the South winds are so boisterous, in winter, as to burst open the bolts of both doors and windows. In summer time, the air is constantly refreshed by the sea-breeze. Farenheit's thermometer seldom rises higher than 76; whereas, at Rome, it rises to 89. At the end of January, the thermometer is seldom lower than 36. At Rome, it falls to 27; so that the difference, between the greatest degree of heat and cold, at Naples, is only 40 degrees; whereas at Rome, though more to the Northward, it is 62. But the most disagreeable part of the Neapolitan climate is the Sirocc, or South-east wind; which, in May and June, is very common. It is infinitely more relaxing, and gives the vapours in a much higher degree, than the worst of our rainy Novembers. It will blow for seven or eight days, or more, without intermission; it blows as hot, as from the mouth of an oven, and gives such a degree of lassitude, both to mind and body, that renders men absolutely incapable of performing their usual functions. It is not, perhaps, surprising, that it should produce these effects on a phlegmatic English constitution; but we have just now an instance, says Brydone, that all the mercury of France, must sink under the load of this horrid leaden atmosphere. A smart Parisian marquis came here, about ten days ago, in the month of May, and was so full of animal spirits, that the people thought him mad. He never remained a moment in the same place; but, at their grave conversations, used to skip from room to room, with such amazing elasticity, that the Italians swore he had got springs in his shoes. I met him, says Brydone, this morning, walking with the step of a philosopher; a smelling-bottle in his hand, and all his vivacity extinguished. I asked him what made him so dull? Ah! mon ami, said he, je n'ennui à la mort;—moi, qui n'ai jamais sçu l'ennui. Mais cet execrable vent m'accable, & deux jeurs de plus, & je me pend!

The natives themselves do not suffer less than strangers; and all nature seems to languish during this abominable wind. A Neapolitan lover avoids his mistress, with the utmost care, in the time of the sirocc; and the indolence it inspires, is almost sufficient to extinguish every passion. All works of genius are laid aside, during its continuance; and, when any thing very flat or insipid is produced, the strongest phrase of disapprobation they can bestow is, Era scritto in temps del siroceo; i. e. "It was written in the time of the sirocc."

It is not the warmth of this wind, that renders it so oppressive to the spirits; it is rather the want of that genial quality which is so enlivening, and which ever renders the Western breeze so agreeable. The spring, and elasticity of the air, seems to be lost; and that active principle, which animates all nature, appears to be dead. The thermometer, which before the wind stood at 43, rose, whilst it blew, to 71. Sea-bathing is the best antidote against it.

Martyn says, though consumptive people resort to Naples, for a recovery of health, yet this is a frequent disease here. The climate seems unfavourable to it; owing, probably, to the stillness of the bay; the height of the hills behind the city, and the sudden transitions from heat to cold. The rains generally continue from the end of December, to the middle of January, which is followed by an agreeable spring, nearly resembling the summer of our Northern climates; except, that the seas are continually stormy and dangerous. Almond trees bloom in February, and garden vegetables are in season all the year round. Ice is seldom seen in the level country; sometimes years pass without snow falling, and, when it does fall, it dissolves as soon as it reaches the ground. What is collected, is from the mountains.

In the plains, ice or snow is very rarely seen. The snow, that sometimes falls in the mountainous parts, is gathered and kept, for cooling liquors in summer-time, instead of ice. Even so early as April, the sun darts a very great heat, but the nights are cold. The fertility of the soil is very extraordinary; being productive to an exuberance of all kinds of grain; and the finest fruits and culinary plants may be cultivated and raised, at any time of the year. Oil, wines, rice, flax, are equal to the finest of other countries. Calabria affords great quantities of manna; and both there, and in other parts of the kingdom, saffron grows, and is deemed as good as that brought from the East. The hills of Pausolippo are covered with flourishing almond-trees, palm-trees, and the great American agave. Fig-trees are very common all over the kingdom; and the evergreen lemon and orange, give the hills a most agreeable variety of colours, and the appearance of a botanical garden; for lemons, citrons, cedrates, pomegranates, and china apples, grow between Rome and Naples, without any particular culture. There are whole forests of such trees, near Terracina, the frontier between the two states; but they are, in flavour and fragrance, much below the the Spanish and Portugal fruits. There are ripe wood-berries, and wood-berry sorbets, or jellies, to be had in January.

Whilst I was in England, says Sharp, I never heard the words Northern Climate pronounced, but they conveyed to me an idea of barrenness and imperfection; I had always conceived that vegetables, and garden-fruits, attained a flavour and savouriness, in the more Southern climes, unknown to the latitude of 51; but, to my great surprize, I do not find, that any of their herbage is equal in taste and sweetness, to that which grows in our gardens; and as to Italy being the garden of the world, beautiful and fertile as some parts of it are, the amazing quantity of barren mountains, extending from almost the one extremity to the other, should seem to deprive it of that character; and, however bold and uncommon the assertion may appear, I think England a better resemblance of a garden than Italy, and should not hesitate to oppose our verdure and inclosures, to their myrtle and orange-trees; which last are not to be seen in winter, out of green-houses, except in the Southern parts of Italy.

Their green pea (of which they have but one sort) is infinitely less delicious than ours; and what is still more surprising, few of their fruits excel ours; I believe none, except their water-melons, their figs, and their grapes. An English gentleman at Naples, who imported his rasberry jam from England, made iced rasberry of a much higher flavour, than any made at Naples immediately from the fruit itself. A noble Venetian procured a skilful gardener from England, in hopes of improving the culture of his garden. I conversed, says Sharp, with this gardener, whom I found under a state of discouragement and despair. he told me, he had not yet ever tasted a peach in Italy, of a true flavour, and he believed he never should; for that he was thwarted and obstructed by the other gardeners, in his attempts to reform their practice; that he had no authority over them, but was confined to his own proper department, which he told me would answer very little purpose.

Here are also allum, vitriol, sulphur, rock chrystal, quarries of fine marble, and a variety of minerals. Glass works make a beneficial branch of trade, as do the Neapolitan horses, which are much esteemed.

The cream-coloured horses, such as draw our king's state coach, are a common breed here, and shine like satin; here are some too of a shining silver white, wonderfully elegant; the ladies exhibit a variety in the colour of their cattle which draw them.

Mrs. Piozzi tells us, that they shewed her at Naples, a skew-ball, or pye-balled ass, well proportioned, coated like a racer in an English stud, sixteen hands and a half high; his colour bay and white, in large patches, and his temper singularly mild and gentle; she could have purchased it for two pounds fifteen shillings English. Hares and partridges are so tame in this country, that they will run under the carriage-wheels.

Buffaloes are here common; a peculiar cheese is made of their milk, rolled up like stiff pieces of ribband. Of their black shining horns, they make snuff-boxes and combs; and a buff-leather of their skins. As this creature is unruly, they lead them with brass or iron rings, drawn through their noses. The wool of their sheep is fine and good, and they make a great deal of silk. Of the filaments, or a kind of hair or wool, growing on some shell-fish, are made waistcoats, caps, stockings, and gloves, much warmer than wool; and though not so fine, and soft as silk, yet always retaining a peculiar gloss.

There are some disagreeable animals in this country, though harmless; one is the green-lizard, of which there are great swarms, common, indeed, to most other parts of Italy. In spring, says Keysler, hundreds of these little animals are seen basking on the flat roofs; and as they crawl up and down the walls, if a window or door be left open, they make their way into the houses. The scorpion is a much greater nusance, which harbours not only in old buildings, and under large stones, but infests the houses in this country; so that, in some places, it is not unusual to make the beadsteads of polished iron, and to place them at some distance from the wall, to prevent these vermin from getting into the beds. It is true they seldom hurt, unless attacked, or accidentally injured, which may easily happen by a person's turning in his bed.

Another plague, almost peculiar to the kingdom of Naples, especially the Southern parts, is the tarantula, so called from the city of Tarento, in which neighbourhood it most abounds. It is a large spider, with eight eyes; the bite, or sting of which, is cured only by music. The patient, under the venom of this insect, has extravagant vicissitudes of shrieking, sobbing, laughing, dancing, &c. They cannot bear the sight of black, or blue, but seem delighted with red or green objects; they have an abhorrence also, to eating fruit and vegetables. A melancholy silence, and a fixed eye, are the first symptoms of this disorder; at this time music is called in to rouse the patient to a violent motion, and thus promoting a copious sweat. Different patients are not affected but by different tunes. They must be lively, and chiefly with the guitar, hautboy, trumpet, violin, and Sicilian kettle-drum. The country people, says Keysler, who are more or less skilled in all these instruments, enforce the operation of their music with grimaces, and odd gesticulations. Several tunes are played, before the right one, perhaps, is found; I mean the one that sets the patient a dancing; which exercise is involuntary, and heightened, by playing quicker on the instruments. When nature seems to be exhausted, the music is suspended, and the patient put to bed and sweated. His spirits thus recovered, he is called out of bed again by the same tune, and dances till he faints with fatigue, and falls, then he is removed to his bed; and thus, in a few days, the cure is compleated. Sometimes it has been known to return the next year; but the same prescription is always applied. If no means of cure are applied, the patient is carried off in a few days. The petticoats of women are apt to harbour these vermin; and, of course, they are more liable to be bitten than men. Swinburne is of opinion, that if persons, bit by this insect, are ever involuntarily affected, it is an attack upon their nerves only, a species of St. Vitus's dance; but he doubts the truth of the disorder, and so do many others, it having never been known to affect any but the very poor: of this, we shall say more hereafter.

Among the natural curiosities of this country, the Phrygian stone, or the pietra fringifera, may be classed. It has neither the hardness of stone, nor the properties of earth, but consists of an indurated mixture of earth, rotten beech-wood, and fibres of different plants; from which, being laid in a moist and shady place, grow in a few days, according to its size, mushrooms, weighing often twenty pounds each. The seed lies in the substance of the stone, and is distinguishable only from dust, by a good microscope. The growth of the mushrooms is greatly forwarded, by pouring warm water on the stone. There are other singularities, which we shall speak of in the places where they are found.

The Appenine mountains extend throughout the whole length of the country, and terminate at the streights of Sicily. Mount Vesuvius, so well known for its fiery eruptions, lies five Italian miles from the city of Naples, but distinct from the Appenines. Its declivity, every where towards the sea, is planted with vines and fruit-trees, and is no less fertile towards the bottom. The circumjacent plain affords a charming prospect, and the air is clear and wholesome. The wine here produced, is very delicious, and of three sorts; two are a yellow muscadine; and the third, abusively called lachrymoe Christi, so called from the drops of juice oozing from the grapes when fully ripe; of the latter, the little that is made is reserved for the king's cellar, who makes presents of it. The South, and West sides of the mountain, exhibit a very different view; being, like the top, covered with black cinders, fleck, and stones. On this dismal side, the mountain is cleft asunder. Its North peak resembles an inverted cone, striking the eye with an accumulated mass of stones, sand, and cinders; and is properly the vulcano. It has another peak, called the Somma. The North peak is three thousand six hundred feet above the level of the sea; but the other peak only three thousand three hundred and thirty. The black ashes, with which the upper part of the mountain is covered, render the ascent very tedious and toilsome; though curious persons are assisted in climbing, by the peasants fastening belts round their waists, of which the climbers take hold, and are thus helped up. The higher we ascend, the hotter is the ground, and often rumbling noises are heard from within; and, in many places, are clefts through which the smoke constantly issues. Its mouth alters its form at every irruption, and often the depth within is so considerable, that curious persons have ventured down into it. Prior to an irruption, the mountain seems to give a warning of its rage, by a dreadful noise, shaking all the adjacent places, and afterwards belching forth ashes and stones, of three or four hundred pounds weight, and casting them to the distance of some miles. Several times, as in the years 1694, 1737, 1751, 1754, and 1755, and much later than this, a flaming stream of melted sulphur, metals and minerals, has issued out of its crater, or mouth, as from a cauldron boiling over; sweeping along with it large stones, and ravaging the whole country, through which it shapes its course. When this fluid matter becomes cold, it has all the hardness of stone; and, in some places, stands in huge heaps sixty ells high, which have been broken to pieces to pave the streets. Naples is paved with this lava. The inhabitants, in the neighbourhood, are pleased with a moderate eructation every year; experience having taught them, that then few, or no shocks of earthquakes, need be apprehended, and these but slight. There is such a quantity of combustible matter in the bowels of the earth, in this part of the world, that was it not for these tunnels, or chimnies, acting as vent for the fire, earthquakes would be very frequent; and it is remarked, that Vesuvius, and Etna in Sicily, generally vent their fury at the same time. Indeed, as it is, earthquakes are very frequent. The city of Herculaneum was overwhelmed with a torrent of fire, in the year 79, and all its buildings buried within the earth, seventy feet deep. Pompeia, shared the same fate; and so lately as the year 1783, the whole province of Calabria was laid waste, and the city of Messina, in Sicily, overthrown, and upwards of forty thousand persons destroyed. The earth shook so violently, for many days, that the inhabitants near the sea coast, on the streights of Sicily, ran out and lay upon the beach, to avoid being crushed by the falling houses; but, unfortunately for them, a promontory, with a whole town upon it, broke from the land, and fell into the sea, driving the waters before it; which, on their return, overwhelmed the beach; and, on their falling backwards into the sea again, swept off with it all that were on the shore, to the number of forty thousand. So dreadful is this calamity!

Mrs. Piozzi arrived at Naples, at two o'clock in the morning, in very stormy weather, at a time when Vesuvius was vomiting forth torrents of flaming lava down its sides, and was the only object visible. At this time thunder, lightning, rain, and wind, were contending for the mastery; and combining to extinguish the torches, brought to light her from her carriage. She asked a Franciscan friar, if it was the famous vulcano? Yes, replied he, that's our mountain which throws up money for us, by calling foreigners to see the extraordinary effects of so surprising a phenomenon! Such a calmness, in such a storm, was more, says she, than my senses could credit. The blue lightning, whose colour shewed the nature of the original minerals, from which she drew her existence, shone around us, from time to time, in a broad expanse, and sudden darkness followed in an instant. No object then, but the fiery river could be seen, till another flash shewed us the waves of the sea, tossing and breaking, at a height inconceivable.

Nothing, sure, was ever more awful or sublime, than our entrance into Naples, at that dead hour of night; not a whisper to be heard in the streets, and not a glimpse of light to lead us on our way, but repeated flashes of livid lightning, and the glare of the burning mountain. My poor maid, adds this lady, had, by this time, nearly lost her wits by terror; and my French valet, exausted with fatigue, beat down with the thunder claps, and covered with rain and sea-spray, had just life enough to exclaim, "Ah madame! Il me semble que nous sommes venus icy exprès pour voir le fin du monde!"

And yet, there are people who live at the foot of this mountain, without any fear. It is so prolific as to compensate for all this dread; ask them, if they are not frightened when the vulcano rages, lest it should carry away their houses, and they will tell you, no; so as we can raise our vines and oranges against it for three years, (for it acts as a hot wall) our fortune is made, and the house may go. If the red river comes, we can run away, and hang the house.

It has been discovered, that the houses of the subterranean city of Herculaneum, of which we shall speak more particularly hereafter, which was built more than two thousand years ago, were erected on foundations of this lava; a manifest proof that the great irruptions, of this mountain, are not all subsequent to that which swallowed up the city.

Swinburne is firmly of opinion that Vesuvius has been raised, from the level of the plains, by the sole action of fire contained in its bowels. Indeed, the isle of Rhodes, that of Ascension, and many in the Archipelago, one which rose out of the sea, in 1707, completely prove this assertion. For what are islands but the tops of hills, rising just above the water, whose bases are at the bottom of the deep; and of such a hill, whose top does not emerge above the surface, but lies a little below it, as a shoal, should be swelled by subterranean fires, it would rise above the ocean, and become an island.

Half way up the mountain dwells a hermit, in an excavation of the lava, who profits so much by travellers climbing to its summit, that the vulcano must rage indeed, before he thinks of quitting his retirement. Experience has taught him, when to expect an irruption, and be will foretel it with a seeming pleasure. Gentlemen stop here to regale, and for assistance to help them up. Sometimes here are three or four fellows attending for that purpose, who will contend, with their couteaus, for the honour of leading the way, and for the reward in consequence. Fellows, that if you were not armed, would plunder you.

About eight miles from Vesuvius, is a half-extinct vulcano, stiled by the ancients, the Court of Vulcan; by the moderns Solfatara; though at such a distance from Vesuvius, it has a subterraneous communication with that mountain. Its form is circular; hills of moderate elevation surround it; and, notwithstanding the vicinity of the fire, vines and fruit-trees grow very well on the outer declivity; the floor of the crater is white as chalk, a kind of marly clay. It has several fissures, or chasms, that emit smoke, but it never flames. The more Vesuvius rages, the quieter Solsatara is. The ground is every where hollow; for if a stone be thrown upon it, or the ground be struck with a hammer, a long subterraneous echo ensues. If a large stone be cast into one of the holes, which have been dug, the noise is little short of thunder. It seems to be a vulcano burnt out, and sunk into itself, leaving a crater-like ground, inclosed with some remains of its sides, surrounding it in an amphitheatrical form.

In this neighbourhood are two or three famous lakes. The first is that of Agnano, lying in a valley, and about a mile in circumference. The water here, in many places, boils up to the height of two inches, without any sensible warmth. It breeds a great number of wild ducks, and other water-fowl; and here the king sometimes comes for the diversion of shooting. In a rock, near its banks, is the Grotta del Cane, so called, because a dog, on whom the experiment is commonly made, for half a crown (and several are left there for the purpose) forcibly held, with his nose against the bottom, is suffocated in a few minutes; but, if thrown within two minutes after into the lake, recovers; owing, no doubt, to the fresh air. These sulphureous exhalations, are also equally fatal to other animals. The sweating baths are certain cells, or chambers, in the grotto of lake Agnano; two of which have an aperture, each exhaling a very hot steam, so as to throw a person in them into a very profuse sweat; used in venereal cases, paralytic disorders, gout, weakness of joints, and internal imposthumes.

The second lake is the Lucina, famous among the Romans for its fine oysters, and abundance of fish. It is now rather like a pond than a lake, having been filled up by a mountain, formed by an earthquake, in the night of the 19th of September, 1538. This mountain is five hundred perches high, and five Italian miles in circumference.

- 1 New Castle

- 2 The Mole

- 3 The Great Co••on House

- 4 New Bridge

- 5 Medina Fountain

- 6 The Arsenal

- 7 The Palace Cross

- 8 Eggs Castle

- 9 Chiaja Gate

- 10 Chiaja Bridge

- 11 The Ascention

- 12 Co•••o Grotto

- 13 Virgillius Sepulcher

- 14 Mergellino

- 15 St. Eramo Castle

- 16 Calvari• Mount

- 17 Mount Olivet

- 18 Holy Ghosts Church

- 19 Holy Ghosts Gate

- 20 St. Sebastian

- 21 The New J••us

- 22 St. Clare

- 23 St. Biaggic

- 24 Gr. St. Augu•t

- 25 St. Eligio

- 26 Market Fountain

- 27 The Carminiello

- 28 Carmine Church

- 29 Carmine Castle

- 30 Carmine Gate

- 31 Loreto Church

- 32 Cavalry Quarter

- 33 Land Custom House

- 34 Magdalen

- 35 Marys of Grace

- 36 Nola•• Gate

- 37 The Vicarage

- 38 The Anunciation

- 39 The Archbishoprick

- 40 Gr. St. Mary

- 41 The Wisdom

- 42 Little St. John

- 43 New St. F••ramo

- 44 The Kings Study

- 45 Constantinople Gate

- 46 St. January Gate

- 47 New Bridge Gate

- 48 Capuana Gate

- 49 The Seraglio

- 50 Old St. Elmmo

- A The Kings Palace

PLAN of the CITY of NAPLES

The lake of Averno, described by Virgil, has not those poisonous exhalations, so fatal to birds flying over it; for fowls, at present, harbour there, swim upon it, and the land all round produces fine fruit, and excellent wine; it is about a mile round; and, in some places, one hundred and eighty feet deep. The walls, standing near it, are supposed to be the remains of a temple of Apollo; but, I shall speak more of these lakes hereafter.

In travelling through the kingdom of Naples, and the Ecclesiastical state, says Sharp, an Englishman is struck at the scarcity of villages and cottages; indeed, one may almost assert, that there is no such thing as a village, or even cluster of houses, approaching to the resemblance of a village. As, therefore, the country is so thinly inhabited, we find the towns swarming with people. The towns stand on the summit of hills; and, at some distance, afford a pleasant prospect, being built with stone, and the houses with flat roofs; but, when you enter within the walls, a traveller is disgusted, the houses are so offensively nasty; and not only without glass to their windows, but even without shutters; and the marks of dirty poverty are so strong, as almost to turn the stomach.

There are many handsome cities in Italy; particularly Benevento, Salerno, Otranto, Bais, &c. and two in Sicily; namely, Palermo, and Messina; but the metropolis of the kingdom of Naples, and the city most visited by foreigners, is Naples; of this then we will now speak, and of its environs.

CHAP. III. Of Naples.

NAPLES, says Swinburne, is fabled to owe its foundation to a Siren; and idleness, that worst of Sirens, seems to have spread its baneful influence over this favourite city, which no length of time has been able to dispel. It has never lost the soft voluptuous character, which it may be said to have received from Parthenope, its supernatural foundress. The Crimeans formed a settlement in this bay, about three hundred years after the Trojan war, and called it their new town, Neapolis. Naples, thus happily situated, grew rich and populous. It was, during a short space of time, the seat of war, in the days of Hannibal; but, at almost, all other periods, enjoyed the most profound peace, under the powerful dominions of the Romans. It was suffered to live under its municipal laws, worship its peculiar deities, and retain its original rites and language. This indulgence was purchased by a quota of ships, to be furnished when demanded. Thus maintained, in peace and security, Naples became the centre of polite arts, the seat of refined taste and luxury, and a favourite residence of the rich and voluptuous citizens of Rome. The emperors partook of the fashionable partiality for its climate, and gave it many substantial marks of their predilection. But the rougher policy of Vespasian altered its constitution, and made it a Roman colony. On the division of the empire, Naples was assigned to the Eastern monarch; and, being connected with Greece, by language and manners, long preserved its allegiance to that crown, under a kind of subordinate, republican government. It suffered severely from the Saracens, who invaded Italy about the beginning of the ninth century. King Roger, after the reduction of every other place that now belongs to the King of Naples, was voluntarily admitted here, abolished the ducal government, and assumed the title of King of the two Sicilies. Naples, at this time, was large and strong; but its bulwarks were demolished by the emperor Henry VI. and levelled to the ground by his grandson, Conrad. The emperor Frederick II. father of Conrad, transferred the university of Bologne here, embellished the city with new buildings, and repaired the old ones. Charles I. brother to Louis IX. of France, conquered it, and brought it to perfection, by fixing here his royal residence, and the tribunal of justice.

But Charles I. was a tyrant. It was in his reign, 1269, that his ill usage of his subjects provoked them to invite Conradine, the son of their late king, who was also emperor of Germany, to the inheritance of his ancestors. Conradine, the prince then in Germany, was a spirited youth of seventeen: he obeyed their summons; but unfortunately lost his life in the expedition. He was defeated, betrayed, taken prisoner, and beheaded. Charles, at first, consented he should be ransomed; and sent an express to the empress Margaret, his mother, for that purpose; but the tyrant altered his mind afterwards, and put him to death, with Frederick of Austria, his cousin, and companion in the enterprise. His afflicted mother arrived on the beach, with a vast treasure for the ransom of her son and nephew, but found only lifeless trunks to redeem from the hands of the barbarous conqueror. Their deaths did not remain long unrevenged. Charles, and his Frenchmen, rendered their yoke so galling to the Sicilians, whose honour, property, and lives, were become the sport of the licentious conquerors, that, on Easter-Monday, 1282, the people
THE DEATH OF CONRADINE.

INSURRECTION of MASSIANELLO

of Palermo raised the standard of revolt; the whole island followed the example of the capital, and a general massacre ensued; in which every Frenchman, their wives and children, to the number of eight thousand, one man only excepted, who was spared for his virtue, was put to the sword without mercy; an event known in history, by the name of the Sicilian vespers. Charles died three years afterwards of a broken heart. The empress expended the money she brought to ransom her son, in the erecting and beautifying the church of Maria del Carmine. Every succeeding prince added something to the embellishment of Naples, and it soon came to vie with the first cities in Europe, for beauty, wealth, and numbers; but ill provided for defence. It actually threw open its gates to every invader, and received with submission, whatever commander was the conqueror, with some few exceptions only. In 1495, it was taken by Charles VIII. king of France; but in 1504, the French were expelled, and the crown fell to Ferdinand, king of Spain; at whose death it devolved on his grandson, the emperor Charles V. During the time the Austrian families were on the throne, it was governed by viceroys, and the peace of Naples was interrupted only by Turks, French, and a banditti, till the year 1647; when the famous insurrection of Massaniello broke out. This man was a fisherman, who, on account of some duties laid on fruit, stirred up the people, and found himself at the head of 150,000 men, drove the viceroy into the castle, ordered the heads of his opposers to be struck off before him, and strutted about for a week, the dictator of the Neapolitan republic. He required the viceroy, to abolish all taxes, and to deliver up the writ of exemption, granted by Charles V. near 100 years before. This embarrassed the viceroy; but to appease the people, he forged a deed, and sent it by the favourite of the people, the duke of Matalone, whom he had confined. The fraud being discovered, the duke was torn from his horse, maltreated by the mob, and afterwards committed to prison. Massaniello was a day or two after killed for his misconduct by his own party, and the rebellion was quelled.

Naples, the capital of the kingdom, anciently Parthenope, lies in 41° 29′ North latitude; is situated partly on the side of a mountain, and partly towards the sea, lying in the form of an amphitheatre, with the bay before it. This is formed of two half circles, with a promontory in the middle, so as to wear the shape of the figure 3; the town rising in an amphitheatre behind it. It is large, the walls being nine Italian miles in circuit; but, including the suburbs, the entire circumference cannot be less than eighteen miles. Most of the streets are handsomely paved; the handsomest, and that of the greatest length and breadth, is the Strada di Toledo. The breadth is twenty-three common paces; and, after running in a
DUKE of MATALONE MALTREATED.

direct line of fifteen hundred paces, it is continued in an easy curved line, for three hundred more; and yet has not one palace in the whole length of it. Mrs. Piozzi says it is as strait as Bond-street, London; as long as Oxford-road, very wide; the houses all of stone, and at least eight stories high; in the heart of the city the streets are narrow; and, on account of the height of the houses, gloomy. Over the shops, live persons of fashion; but persons, of very high quality, have palaces in other parts of the city. Though it is not, says Moore, one third of the size of London, the number of inhabitants are computed at 350,000. Many of the streets are more crouded than the Strand. The streets not being lighted or watched at night, is is a very dangerous place often after dark.

That which the police, and some remains of shame restrain, in other parts, especially in cities, are here, above all the controul of law. The sulphur, with which their vegetables and food are impregnated; the continual use of chocolate, and other laxatives, occasion necessities, which will admit neither delay nor circumspection; the court-yards of palaces and hotels, the porches of private houses, the stairs and landing-places, are so many conveniences for passengers. Persons will often throw themselves out of their coaches, and mingle with the foot-passengers, every one taking within the walls of others, that liberty which he allows within his own.

Veniam petimusque damusque vicessim.

"Begging pardon and granting it by turns."

From this general liberty, and the little care taken by an owner or tenant, about the cleanliness of his hotel, his house, or landing-place, it is easily to be supposed, what filthiness and infection must be in a city, so populous as Naples.

There is, however, one pleasure in walking through the city; the streets being well paved, and kept in good order. No heavy loads on carriages are suffered to be brought into town. The heaviest cart is that which carries wine; all heavy burdens are brought on the backs of asses. Market-gardeners bring in their vegetables by this conveyance, and carry out their dung by the same means.

The houses have all flat roofs, paved with stone, and a balustrade, that one may safely walk on them; numbers of flower-pots, and fruit-trees, in boxes, are placed on them, and produce a very gay effect. Grosley says they look like houses, whose tops have been consumed by fire, especially as the upper part of these houses is blackened by smoke, and the vapours of the air, more than the middle parts. A great number of stalls, whereon eatables are exposed to sale, and of balconies, with lattice windows, take off from the beauty of the streets; but they are handsome notwithstanding. This city does not, indeed, rival either Rome or Genoa, in stately palaces; yet it can boast of fine ones, as also of a great number of fine fountains; though the water, in most of them, is but indifferent. Water is also conveyed to the city, from the foot of Mount Vesuvius, by a very grand aqueduct.

The monasteries, and convents, of both sexes, are one hundred and forty-nine; besides which, are thirty-four houses for poor boys, girls, and women; eleven hospitals; five seminaries, for ecclesiastics; four capital churches; thirty-two parish-churches; seventy other churches and chapels, and upwards of one hundred and thirty oratories, or chapels of religious fraternities. Most of the churches are deficient in good paintings, and a fine front; and their marble monuments, are not of those magnificent dimensions, as those which strike the eye at Rome; but every thing else, in beauty and richness, surpasses all of the kind in other Catholic countries. The value of the jewels, and altar-utensils, being alone estimated at several millions of dollars.

Il Duomo, or the archbishop's cathedral, though Gothic, is surprisingly fine; it is dedicated to St. Januarius; and, in one of the chapels, is the tomb of that saint: he was bishop of Benevonto, and is called the patron of the city. They say he was murdered, and that some of his blood is preserved in a glass phial, which they shew; but more of this by-and-by. The dome of this cathedral is exceedingly rich, in all sorts of sculpture, painting, gilding, and marble. The high altar is superb, and its tabernacle set with the finest gems. The most remarkable thing, in this church, is a chapel called Il Tesora; the architecture of which is extremely beautiful. In it are the statues of Saints Peter and Paul, finely executed by Finelli; and two pillars of black marble, most beautifully spotted. The door is of brass, curiously wrought with festoons and foliage, and cost thirty-six thousand scudi; each scudi, 4s. 2d. The chapel is of a round form, and contains seven altars of the finest marble, and forty-two pillars of Broccatello. Round the upper part of the wall stand twenty-one large bronze images of saints, each valued at four thousand scudi; and, under them are sixty large silver busts, of so many saints. Most of these bronzes are by Finelli. The cupola was painted by Lanfranco, Domenichini, and Parmeggiano, but these noble pieces have suffered by earthquakes, that shook the cupola. Behind the high altar, which is detached from the wall, and entirely of red porphyry, is the shrine with silver doors, where is kept the head of St. Januarius, and the two phials of his blood.

In the area, between the cathedral and Capua street, stands a fine marble obelisk, on which is erected a brass statue of St. Januarius. This obelisk is annually illuminated, on the 19th of September, with a splendour hardly to be conceived; whilst a numerous band of music play by it, and all the guns, in the several forts, are fired on the occasion.

Of the four catacombs, hitherto discovered in Naples, those of St. Januarius are both of the greatest extent, and best kept. This is a subterraneous burial-place, hewn out of a solid rock; the passages are sixteen feet high, and arched, and eleven wide. That the Romans buried their dead, long before the establishment of Christianity, is out of dispute. The bodies, in these catacombs, were deposited in cavities, on both sides of the vaults, one above another, in a kind of ovens; the mouths of which, when full, were closed up with a marble slab, or with tiles. There are passages branching out on each side, but these are narrow. In many parts, they are said to extend several miles, but they are now walled up; robberies, &c. having been committed, by banditti, who used to lurk in these vaults. Guides, with torches, shew you these places.

St. Maria Annunziata is one of the finest churches in Naples; for the eye every where meets with noble paintings, statues, monuments, basso relievos, &c. The gilding alone of the high altar, and the chapel belonging to it, cost twenty-three thousand crowns; and the other ornaments, enriched with lapis lazuli, cornelian, jasper, agate, and a profusion of other gems, eighteen thousand ducats more, each ducat 3s. 4d. The plate, in the vestry of this church, a few years since, weighed above twenty-one thousand marks.

The hospital called La Santa Casa, belonging to this church, was once the best endowed in the whole world. Its annual income, amounting to two hundred and fifty thousand pounds sterling. All this was expended on the sick, poor, foundlings, and other charitable purposes. The children brought up here, are generally about two thousand five hundred; it being no uncommon thing, in the night, for twenty infants to be put into the wheel, or machine, which stands open, both day and night, for the reception of them; and eight wet nurses attend every day. The boys are brought up to trade, and some to the church. The girls, according to their capacities, do the necessary work of the hospital; are employed in the care and instruction of the children; placed in a convent, or married off, with a portion of one hundred, or two hundred ducats. In such portions, ten thousand ducats have been expended in one year; and fifteen thousand foundlings maintained. If such women, as are married, become distressed widows, or are deserted by their husbands; or, in case they are unhappy in such marriages, without any fault of theirs, they are re-admitted, and a particular apartment allowed them for life. The annual amount of the dowries to other women, with which this house stands charged, by several ancient legacies and foundations, was, at least, eighteen thousand ducats; there being many noble families, whose daughters, at their marriage, received two or three thousand dollars from this hospital. The physicians, &c. stood the house, yearly, in fourteen thousand ducats. To the Santa Casa belong four other hospitals, to which patients are sent, for the convenience of warm bathing, &c. Such was the state of this hospital, at the beginning of this century, when it broke, for above five millions of ducats, on which its total ruin was feared; but it was, at last, brought before an imperial commission; when all its revenues, except forty-two thousand ducats a year, were made over to the creditors till they were paid; so that the girls portions now are reduced from two hundred ducats to fifty. Other expences are proportionably diminished.

Here is also an institution, called Sacra Monte della Pietà; whose revenue, amounting to fifty thousand ducats, is, for two years, lent out on pledges without interest, in sums not exceeding ten ducats. Many wealthy persons, who either want opportunity, or not being inclined to make purchases, or lend on interest, or mortgages, place their fortunes here; partly for security, and partly for the benefit of the poor.

The late king of Spain began a new palace at Capo di Monte, but, discouraged by the difficulty of access, and procuring water, he left it unfinished. Twenty-four rooms, however, of this neglected palace, are filled with the collection that was removed from Parma; consisting of an invaluable set of pictures, a library, a fine cabinet of medals, and a great number of cameos and intaglios, particularly an onyx tazza, eight inches in diameter; but none of these valuable articles are hung up, or properly disposed. The books are unpacked, and all is in confusion.

In the palace of the prince di Tarsia is a library open for the public, three days in a week. There are several other good libraries, but the principal one is the king's.

Of all the palaces in Naples, that of the king's is the most magnificent. In the audience-room, are finely painted the most remarkable actions of the Spanish nation. The sala Regia, where the carnival entertainments are given, is hung with the portraits of all the viceroys at full length. A particular gallery is taken up with the exploits of the duke of Alva. In another saloon is represented the war carried on by Charles V. with John Frederick, elector of Saxony. In the palace-chapel is a subterraneous communication (a good resource for viceroys and courtiers) to the Nuovo Castello, by the sea-side, which is well garrisoned; forty-two pieces of ordnance are mounted on the walls and bastions; among which are some taken by Charles V. from the elector of Saxony, at the battle of Muhlberg.

Castello del Uovo, or Egg Castle, so called from its oval figure, stands in the sea upon a rock, joined to the continent by a bridge two hundred and twenty paces long. This castle is said to have been anciently the palace of Lucullus. It is supplied with fresh water conveyed under the bridge.

The third check, upon the city of Naples, is the castle of St. Elmo. It is situated on an eminence, towards the West, and the plan is in the form of a star, with six rays. Its subterraneous works are very spacious, and hewn out of a rock to such a depth, as to be bomb-proof; on which account, a great number of military stores are here kept. It can also be supplied with provisions from Castello Nuovo, by means of a subterraneous communication. In the upper part of St. Elmo's castle are seven cisterns of water; and, under the vaults and mines, is a reservoir large enough for two galleys to sail on. The water, which is always extremely cold, is drawn up by a bucket, through a kind of aperture.

One of the pleasantest parts of the city is the Piaggie, that is, the Strand, from its proximity to the sea-shore. The coolness of the air, the agreeableness of the prospect, the extent of the area, and its freedom from dust, make it the evening resort of the quality; so that it is no uncommon thing to see some hundreds of coaches here; but, on these occasions, persons of different sexes never ride together in the same coach. Nothing can be more delightful than the gardens to the right-hand, on the hill, adorned with walks of orange, cedar, and palm-trees, and a profusion of the most beautiful flowers.

The bay of Naples is thirty miles in circumference, and twelve miles across. The harbour is very spacious, and has a grand light-house, with a mole, five hundred paces in length, which separates the main harbour from the bason. The latter is behind the New Castle, and has generally in it four gallies; the crews of which, both rowers and soldiers, are obliged every Lent, to come to confession, and receive the sacrament.

The harbour is formed by the mole, which projects near half a mile into the sea. It was begun to be built in 1302. It is in the form of a bending arm, and about sixty feet broad, consisting of large stones, hewn and square, so closely cemented, that it stands unmoveable like a rock, and braves the fury of the most impetuous waves. In the middle of the elbow stands the light-house, a beautiful, lofty, round tower; at the end of the bending of the elbow, is a small fort. There is also a chapel, near the middle of the mole, where mass is duly said for mariners. The mole is broad enough for two coaches to go a-breast, and sufficient room for them to turn at the end. It is the most agreeable public walk about the city, and much frequented in summer evenings, by persons of fashion, to enjoy the fresco, or refreshing breezes from the sea. On each side the mole, ships and other vessels are chained; and from it is a beautiful prospect of Mount Vesuvius, the delightful country about Portici, and the beautiful ascent of great part of Naples; the houses and gardens appearing one above another, almost to the castle of St. Elmo. The company here have constantly concerts of the finest music; whose sounds are wonderfully sweet, in a still evening, owing to the water; and add considerably to the pleasures of the place. The harbour for the gallies will contain about twenty, defended by the old town of St Vincent, now used as a place of confinement, for disobedient children.

Naples has several squares, but they are small and irregular; many of them have, in the middle, a short obelisk, loaded with decorations, far from pleasing to the eye; but the finest is that of Medina, opposite the new castle. The upper bason is supported by the three Graces; and, on the top, stands a superb Neptune, attended by several other figures, all ejecting water. The town is well supplied with daily markets, so that provisions are ever fresh, and in great plenty. Their wine is the best in Europe, and both fish and flesh are extremely good. There are two or three good inns, for the accommodation of travellers. The apartments are indifferent, but every thing else will be found good, and the cooks excellent; gentlemen may have a ready furnished lodging, such as it is, (for there are few better than what we meet with in the poor-houses of Shoreditch) and have their provisions from the inns. Wines are exceedingly cheap; nine gallons may be bought for 3s. 3d. and fellows, who speak a little broken English, are ready as valet de places, to attend you every where; but they are much greater knaves here, than the generality of their fraternity.

Some thousands of the populace, called the Lazaroni, or black-guards, have no other habitation than the streets; and much the greater part of the other portion, having no employ, either from want of manufactures, or their natural propensity to idleness, are sauntering in the streets from morning to night, and make those crowds at Naples; which are not seen in other places, but on festivals, elections, and other public days.

These lazaroni, says Moore, are computed at above thirty thousand; and have, on some well known occasions, as the insurrection of Massaniello, and others, had the government, for a short time, in their own hands. The greater part of them have no dwelling-houses, but sleep every night in the streets, under porticos, piazzas, or any kind of shelter they can find. Those, who have wives and children, live in the suburbs, near Pausilippo, in huts, or in caverns; or chambers dug out of that mountain. Some get a livelihood by fishing, others by carrying loads to and from the shipping. Many walk about the streets, ready to run on errands, or perform any labour in their power, for a very small reward. As they do not meet with constant employ, their wages are not adequate to their maintenance; the soup and bread, distributed at the gates of convents, supply the deficiency. The lazaroni are generally represented as a lazy, licentious, and turbulent set of people; but Dr. Moore entertained a very different idea of their character. This idleness, says he, is evidently the effect of necessity, not of choice; they are always ready to perform any work, however laborious, for a reasonable gratification. It must proceed from the fault of government, when such a number of stout, active citizens remain unemployed; and, so far are they from being licentious and turbulent, that I cannot help thinking they are too tame and submissive. Though the inhabitants of the Italian cities were the first who shook off the feudal yoke; and though, in Naples, they have long enjoyed the privilege of municipal jurisdiction; the external splendor of the nobles, and the authority they still exercise on the peasants, impose upon the minds of the lazaroni; and, however bold and resentful they may be, of injuries offered by others, they bear the insolence of the nobility, as passive as peasants fixed to the soil. A coxcomb of a volanti, or running footman, tricked out in a fantastic dress, or any of the liveried slaves of the guests, make no ceremony of treating these poor fellows with all the insolence, and insensibility natural to their masters; and for no visible reason, but because he is dressed in lace, and they in rags. Instead of telling them to make way, when the noise in the streets prevents the common people from hearing the approach of the carriage, a stroke across the shoulders, with the cane of the running footman, is the usual warning they receive. Nothing animates this people to insurrection, but some very pressing and very universal causes, such as scarcity of bread: every other grievance they bear, as if it was their charter. When we consider thirty thousand human creatures, without beds, or habitations, wandering almost naked, in search of food, through the streets of a well-built city; when we think of the opportunities they have of being together, and of comparing their own destitute situation, with the affluence of others, one cannot help being astonished at their patience.

Let the prince be distinguished by splendor and magnificence; let the great and the rich have their luxuries; but, in the name of humanity, let the poor, who are willing to work, have food in abundance, to satisfy the cravings of nature; and raiment, to defend them from the inclemencies of the weather.

If their governors, whether through weakness, or neglect, do not supply them with these, they certainly have a right to help themselves. Every law of equity, and common sense, will justify them in revolting against such governors; and in satisfying their own wants, from the superfluities of lazy luxury.

Mrs. Piozzi gives us a very different idea of this set of men; and says, that the natural indolence of the Neapolitans makes them regardless of the comforts and inconveniences of life. As the weather is exceedingly warm, the lazaroni, who have but little care about appearances, go with a vast deal of their persons uncovered, except that of tatooing their shoulders and legs, as do the Indians, with figures indelibly marked in their skin, by gunpowder, and other means. The man, who rows you about the delightful bay of Naples, has, perhaps, the angel Raphael, or the Virgin Mary, delineated, on one sun-burnt leg, the saint of the town, upon the other; and the glory, or seven spirits of God, upon his brawny shoulders. They hate work, says this lady, and why? Because they want for nothing, having few desires. A house would be an inconvenience to them; and, though many of them have decent clothes, they throw them off till a time of gala, and will sit by the sea-side playing at moro, with their fingers.

A Florentine nobleman, continues Mrs. Piozzi, told me once, that he asked one of these fellows to carry his portmanteau for him, and offered him a carlini; more in proportion to a Neapolitan, than an English shilling would be to a London porter; he had not twenty yards to go with it. "Are you hungry, master?" cries the fellow; "No replied Count Manucei," but what of that?—"Why, then, no more am I," was the answer, "and it is too hot weather to carry burthens;" and so turned about on the other side and lay still.

This class of people, say this lady, amounting to a number that even terrifies one to think of, gives the city an air of gaiety and cheerfulness, one cannot help rejoicing in. The Toledo-street is one continual crowd. Nothing can exceed the confusion to a walker; and here are little gigs, drawn by one horse, which, without any bit in his mouth, but a string tied over his nose, tears along with inconceivable rapidity: a small narrow gilt chain to hold one, set between the two wheels, and no springs to it, nor any thing else which can add to the weight; and this flying car is a kind of •iacre, or hackney coach, that will travel a mile for fourpence halfpenny; or at the rate of a carlini, or four-pence halfpenny, an hour.

The coat of arms, belonging to Naples, was an unbridled horse; but one of their late kings put a bit into its mouth, as an emblem of his having brought the Neapolitans to subjection.

I have given my readers one reason, of the populousness of the towns in the kingdom of Naples; that of the country places being deserted. Another that fills Naples, says Sharp, is, that it furnishes its own inhabitants, and, perhaps, is the only metropolis in Europe that does so. London, Paris, and other chief cities, are supplied with the people from the country; the luxury, and expensiveness of large towns, being so great an impediment to marriage, and populousness, they would all, in the ordinary course of nature, be depopulated in a few years, were they not annually recruited from other parts: but, in Naples, the case is different, from a singular custom among the gentry, in hiring married servants, in preference to unmarried ones. In Paris, or London, very few servants can hope to be employed, who are not single; and therefore an infinite number, of this class of people, must pass their lives in celibacy; as the instances in these cities are but rare, where footmen and maid-servants can support themselves, after marriage, by a different occupation.

But in Naples, it is almost an universal fashion, to give their men-servants board-wages, not admitting them to sleep in their houses. This naturally induces them to marry, giving them a settlement so essential to the character acquired here, by all ranks of masters; but what seems still more to facilitate matrimony, in this order of people, is the prodigious number of young women, ready to accept the first offer; for, in Italy, they are not taken into service as in England, A nobleman, who keeps forty men servants, has seldom more than two maids; and, indeed, it is so much the province of the men, to do the house-business, that they are employed all over the country, even to the making of the beds. This circumstance, with the difficulty she has to acquire her living here, by any other means, is the reason why they seldom make an objection to the certain poverty attending on marriage. The swarms of children, in all the streets inhabited by the poor, are such as will naturally result from this practice; and as a married couple, though they have six or seven children, never occupy more than one room; the extreme populousness of Naples must consequently follow from such causes.

The lazaroni are such miserable wretches, as are not to be seen in any other town in Europe. Perhaps, among the ashes of our glass-houses in London, we may find two or three beggars not unlike them; and they are suffered to sun themselves a great part of the day, under the palace-walls, where they lie basking like dirty swine, and are a much more nauseous spectacle. Being almost naked, they suffer extremely in cold weather; and were the climate less mild, they would certainly perish; even the greater part of the poor, who work for their livelihood, seldom wear shoes or stockings, and their children never; but, notwithstanding the power of use, the cold in the winter months produces chilblains, and sore legs, to a piteous degree.

To give my readers an idea of the starving life of the poor, I shall only mention the wages of servants, to which all kinds of wages are nearly proportionate. A Neapolitan gentleman pays his footman five ducats a month; a nobleman, perhaps six. All the quality, who keep pages, give them six or seven ducats, with a livery once in two years, and another for gala days only, which lasts ten years; but neither shoes, stockings, nor washing. With this sum they subsist themselves and families; for this pay includes board wages; nor are the tables of the gentry so amply provided here, as to admit of the least depredation, as is the case in England, where married servants generally maintain their wives from their master's larder. Now, a ducat is about 3s. 9d. five of which make something less than 19s. the whole monthly income of the greater number of livery servants in Naples. The custom of vails is, in a manner, unknown, except by great chance, or at the beginning of the year, when they receive a few trifling perquisites. The generality of servants, marrying very young, their wives, for the most part, blest with a numerous progeny, the cares of which are a sufficient occupation for the wise, makes it that the labour of her hands can add but little to their stock. The rent of a room, for a month, is a ducat, which leaves exactly fifteen shillings for cloathing and maintaining the whole family. After this detail, it will not appear strange that they seldom eat either meat, or fresh fish, but find themselves under the necessity of feeding chiefly on vegetables, a cheap sort of cheese, salt fish, and a coarse bread; which last is as dear at Naples, as at London. If it excites wonder, how they contrive to live on these wages, it is still more so, how it is contrived on four ducats, or four and a half, the usual price given by lawyers and tradesmen; for every one here has the rage of keeping a footman, down to a set of housekeepers, who hire one for the Sunday only; and there are those who hire one on that day, for an hour or two only, so that some servants will let themselves out to three or four different masters on the same Sunday, one in the morning, another at noon, and a third after dinner, and so on. This class of servants are wittily called Domenichini, or Sunday-men; Domenica signifying Sunday. I must not omit to observe, that in great families, a few of the upper servants are not at board-wages, but are dieted by their masters, for the convenience of consuming what remains at table.

The king's footmen receive only eight ducats, and six carlines a month, equal to 1l. 12s. 6d. and two carlines a day extraordinary, when his majesty is at any of his palaces out of Naples. This extraordinary allowance is granted them, for their particular maintenance, as they cannot partake of the same dinner with their wives and families.

I shall close this account of the lowness of servants' wages, with remarking, that they all prefer a carline (fourpence halfpenny) a day, for board-wages, to the being maintained by their masters; by which one may judge, with what vile provision they can subsist. They know nothing of the superfluities so common amongst our poor; I mean the excessive use of strong and spirituous liquors, a matter of such notoriety, that I do not remember to have seen in the streets, one drunken man or woman, if I may except a few soldiers, and a few valets-de-place. Indeed, the custom, or spirit of sobriety, is rooted so deeply in their manners, that the luxury they indulge, is a passion for snow, or ice-water, and lemonade. You see the very dregs of the mob, spending their farthings, or halfpenny, on a glass of those liquors, in the coldest season of the year; the same thing is practised by the great, in a more elegant and expensive manner. Perhaps the heat of the climate may have indicated this luxury first, in the summer months, but it is now become one of the necessaries of life; and government has availed itself of the fashion, by making a monopoly of the snow at Naples, and selling it at a very high price, about three farthings a pound.

It is this cheapness of servants that accounts for the showy appearance some of the quality here make with small fortunes; but what enables them also to support a large household, and a vast quantity of coach-horses and carriages, is the circumstance of confining themselves to that one luxury. They have no expensive country-houses and gardens, no hounds, no race-horses, no parliament elections; and, in short, no great demands for the education of their children; disposing of all the girls in convents, on very easy terms, whilst they are children, where they are left all their lives, unless they provide them husbands; for single young ladies are not suffered to appear in the world, neither at spectacles, nor visits. The small expence of their tables, also, is another means of enabling them to figure away with equipages. It is not usual here, to dine or sup at each others houses; and there are some who never do, except only on Christmas-day, or, perhaps, during that week; nay, in general, are they so unaccustomed to entertain one another, that the greater number seldom receive their friends, but upon weddings, deaths, and lyings-in. They also carry their parsimony so far, as to lock up their fine furniture, in the intervals of these ceremonies. It is amazing, at how small an expence the generality of the first people live here, as to their table. It is not an uncommon thing, says Sharp, to contract with the cook, or one of the upper servants, to supply their dinners at so much a-head; and, I shall scarcely be credited, when I mention so small a sum as ninepence English, wine included; nevertheless, this is a practice not only at Naples, but at Rome, and other parts of Italy; and is a fact that may be depended on. There are, however, a few exceptions amongst the nobility, to this retired manner of eating. There are some, who, when they entertain, give the most splendid, expensive, and elegant dinners that can be conceived. The prince of Franca Villa, when Mr. Sharp was there, in 1765, kept a kind of open table every night, with twelve or fourteen covers; where the English, of any consequence, were at all times received with the greatest politeness. Though it be not the custom to dine or sup with one another, except on extraordinary occasions, their visits being merely conversations; some few exert themselves to give balls, and even some of the merchants adopt this practice.

Now I am mentioning visits, it may be worth noticing a certain tiresome etiquette, prevailing in this place, of waiting in the streets, on evening visits, till two pages give in your name, and bring down flambeaux to light you up stairs, perhaps almost to the top of the house, as the quality live generally a great height from the ground. All this parsimony, in other respects, enables them, I say, to figure away with equipages, and that they do, more than in any other place in the world. Some of their princes have forty or fifty coach-horses; more than twenty different carriages; thirty, forty, or fifty domestic pages; besides four, five, or six running footmen, before their chariots. A running footman seems almost an indispensible necessary of life here; for a gentleman never rides post, on the road near Naples, nor takes an airing, that is not preceded by one of these poor breathless fellows. They are useful, indeed, in the streets; for, owing to the continual noise and bustle of the people, many of them would be run over, if it was not for these men, to bid them get out of the way.

The estates, possessed by the dukes and princes here, two or three excepted, are not equal to those of our English nobility. The prince of Franca Villa's is about thirteen thousand pounds a year; and no prince makes a greater appearance at Naples than him. The emoluments of the great officers of state, and the salaries of all the king's servants, are much smaller than in England. The fees, also, of lawyers and physicians, are trifling, compared with ours; and talents, of every kind, are but poorly recompensed; so that affluence is not diffused, through every street, as in London; but is confined almost within the narrow circle of the nobility. The lord-steward, lord chamberlain, and master of the horse, have each eighteen hundred ducats a year, not three hundred and fifty pounds sterling; and about £1. 6s. a day, for their table, when the king is not at Naples. The master of the horse has likewise a coach and six, two running footmen and two footmen, at the king's expence. The lords of the bed-chamber have but thirty ducats a month, which is about seventy pounds a year; and thirteen shillings a day for their table, when the king is absent: and there are no perquisites annexed to these offices. It is, therefore, not to be wondered at, that so many of the nobles, with small estates, though they have a place at court, are obliged to live retired, notwithstanding the low prices of provisions and labour.

The royal palace forms a square, with a court in the middle; has a noble stair-case, which takes up one side. The front is grand, and well executed; the architecture is bold and noble, done by Fontana, and originally intended as a palace for the viceroys, when under the Spanish government. A theatre is built in this palace, very commodious for operas. All the apartments abound in fine paintings, and beautiful tapestry. The cielings have gold grounds, with white ornaments. There are red and white marble frames to the doors, with figures and gilt plates on them. The gardens reach to the sea-side, but are nothing extraordinary. There is always here a splendid court, and the nobility exceed those of the court of France, in their dresses and equipages. When a lady of quality goes there, she is conducted in the following manner: she sets out alone in a gilded coach, with glass windows behind as well as before. This is preceded by another neat coach, in which sits a person, genteely dressed, called her Braceira, who hands her in and out of her coach. Another coach follows, wherein are four pages, or more, according to her rank; and a rich sedan chair is carried empty, by two chairmen, near the side of her coach. When they reach the palace, the braceira gets out, and hands the lady into her sedan; the pages walking, two and two, on each side, richly dressed. In this manner she is carried up stairs, where she quits her sedan, and the pages support her train, which is some yards in length, till she comes to the drawing-room door, when it is buttoned up with loops. The braceira and pages wait her return, in the anti-chamber, when she is re-conducted to her coach. It is remarked that, though the Neapolitan ladies dress themselves to great advantage, they are not so beautiful in appearance, as those at Florence and Rome. The state coach of the king is said to have cost ten thousand pounds, and is the most magnificent in Europe. It is very large, and richly gilt, even the tire round the wheels. It is usually drawn by six noble black horses, whose harness is extremely rich, and the reins of broad, solid gold-lace; the carved work is the finest imaginable, and the painting so extraordinary, that nothing can exceed it. Instead of iron or brass, these parts, as well as the ornaments, are silver, and silver gilt.

There is not, says Moore, a city in all the world, with the same number of inhabitants, in which so few seem to contribute to the wealth of the community, by useful or productive labour, as Naples; but the number of priests, monks, fidlers, lawyers, nobility, footmen and lazaroni, surpass all reasonable proportion. The king of Naples counts a hundred persons, among his subjects, with the title of prince; a still greater number, with that of duke. Six or seven of these, says Moore, have from ten to twelve, or thirteen hundred pounds a year; a considerable number have fortunes about half that value, and the annual revenue of many, is not above one or two thousand pounds. With respect to the inferior orders of nobility, they are much poorer. Many counts and marquisses, have not above three or four hundred pounds of paternal estate; many still less, and some few enjoy a title without any estate whatever; and yet many of them make a very splendid appearance. I dined once, says Moore, with the duke of Hamilton, at prince Iacci's; we passed through twelve or thirteen large rooms, before we arrived at the dining-room. There were thirty-six persons at table, and each guest had a footman behind his chair. Other domestics, belonging to the prince, remained in the adjacent rooms, and in the hall. We afterwards passed through a number of other rooms, in our way to one, where there was a commanding prospect.

When there is no opera, the Corso, or sea-shore, is the great scene of Neapolitan parade. The finest carriages are painted, gilt, varnished, and lined, in a richer and more beautiful manner, than are yet become fashionable either in England or France. They are often drawn by six, sometimes by eight horses; two running footmen, gaily dressed, precede the carriage; and three or four handsome servants, in rich liveries, hang behind. The ladies and gentlemen, within the coaches, glitter in all the brilliancy of lace, embroidery, and jewels. The carriages, for gala days, are purposely made, with very large windows, that those within may be seen. Nothing can be more showy than the harness of the horses; their heads and manes are ornamented with the rarest plumage, and their tails set off with ribbands, and artificial flowers, in such a graceful manner, as leads us to think they were dressed by those who dressed their ladies.

After all, you will imagine, perhaps, the amusement cannot be very great. The carriages follow each other in two lines, moving in opposite directions. The company within smile and bow, and wave the hand, as they pass and repass their acquaintance; and, doubtless, imagine themselves the most important figures in the procession. The horses, however, seem to be of a very different way of thinking; and to consider themselves as the chief objects of admiration, looking on the livery-servants, the volanti's, lords and ladies, as their natural suite, on all such solemn occasions.

Under an appearance of giddiness, levity, and merriment, the commonalty and citizens, says Grosley, amidst labour and pleasure, conceal deep and well-conducted views, if not in every head, at least as a body; and as a body, they form a democracy, independent of the king, and of the nobility, joining with the latter, when their interest so requires. The lower clergy, and the majority of monks, with whom Naples swarms, never fail siding with them.

The citizens of Naples, thus, form a society of their own, perfectly distinct from the nobility; and, although they are not the most industrious people in the world, yet, having some degree of occupation, and their time being divided between business and pleasure, they, probably, have more enjoyment than those who, without internal resources, or opportunities of active exertion, pass their lives in sensual gratifications.

The great theatre of St. Carlo, adjoining to the royal palace, is vast, noble, and elegant; as in describing this, we shall describe every other Italian theatre, they being all built on the same plan, we will be the more particular. The form is a truncated ellipse, astonishingly spacious, having six rows of boxes all round the house, similar to the new opera-house in London; thirty in each row, except the two lowest, out of which the king's box is taken, and this is fronting the stage, and occupies four of them, and is on a level with the second range, or row. Each of these boxes, like a room, is furnished with a table, pier-glass, tapestry, carpet, canopy, branches, &c. is large enough to hold twelve persons standing; but they are so narrow, that only three ladies can sit in front; the three next behind them, to see, must stand up, so that all those behind these can see little or nothing. The king's is a saloon, and large enough to contain the royal family, and part of the court. The orchestra will hold two hundred performers. The pit contains fifteen rows of seats, thirty in a row, separated by broad rests for the elbow, like arms of a chair; besides an interval all through the middle, and a circuit all round under the boxes, which will hold one hundred and fifty persons standing. The seat of each chair, in the pit, lifts up like the lid of a box, and has a lock to fasten it. There are gentlemen sufficient in Naples to hire, by the year, the first four rows next to the orchestra, who take the key of the seat home with them, leaving it locked, by which means they are always sure of their place at any hour; and, as the intervals, between the rows, are wide enough to permit persons to pass, without disturbing others, they are exceedingly convenient. The usual price for the season, in which they give four new operas, is twenty ducats, about 3l. 15s. Those who do not hire seats by the year, pay three carlines, about thirteen-pence-halfpenny, for their place in the pit.

The price of a box, for the whole year, is two hundred and forty ducats, or near 47l. or a less price in proportion to the length of the season. The three lower ranges are hired by ladies of distinct on, for a year; the other three are let out by the night; but, they must hire the whole box; yet, if any single stranger wishes admittance, they are, if properly recommended, invited into the boxes of the nobility. The nobility will let their boxes, when they do not go themselves; and often, on gala nights, or at the opening of a new opera, will do the same; for which they will get an exorbitant price, sometimes fifteen ducats, or more. It is common not only to receive company in these boxes, but to take ice and other refreshments, to sup and play at cards; for the size of the theatre, and the noise of the audience are such, that the performers and band are but indistinctly heard, except when a favourite air is singing; but, indeed, the opera is considered more as a place of rendezvous, than otherwise; and this imperfection is not much attended to. The season generally lasts from the fifth of November, to the beginning of September.

The decorations of the theatre, instead of being like scenes, represent some public place, the inside of a temple, or palace; the whole on three large pieces; two along the sides, and one in front, in which painters display all the magic of perspective. It is the custom in Italy, to light the stage only, which renders the house dark and gloomy; but, on gala nights, or when the king is present, it is superbly illuminated. The large glass in the front of each box, against which two wax lights, as large as torches, are placed, and other lights in the boxes, and on the stage, properly disposed, make the house brilliant; but the glare and the smoke is, on the other hand, offensive.

Dark as the boxes are, they would be much more so, if those who sit in them, did not, at their own expence, put up a couple of candles. The ladies, in the boxes and pit of the opera-house in London, make a more brilliant appearance, than in the boxes at Naples; where, on common nights, it is not possible to distinguish a feature across the house. The gentlemen in the pit do not, in the whole, make a good figure; for, though there are many officers well drest, and other gentlemen, yet the major part of the company are shabby; consisting of persons who pay nothing, such as the upper servants of ladies who hire boxes; upper servants of ambassadors; and, somesometimes, for a small fee to the door-keepers, such servants gain admission for friends. The house and the stage is so large, that, in windy weather, you would imagine yourself in the street, (the wind blowing so hard in the pit and boxes) and it often occasions colds.

The performers are not paid so liberally at Naples, as at London; but, considering the difference in the price of things, the pay of the capital singers does not fall much short of it. Gabrielli had eighteen hundred sequins, or nine hundred pounds sterling. The first man has three thousand five hundred ducats; the first dancer two thousand; the first woman dancer fifteen hundred, each ducat about three shillings and tenpence sterling.

The Impressario, or manager, is bound to very hard terms, so that his profits are inconsiderable. The theatre being part of the palace, the king reserves for himself, and officers, fifteen boxes, without paying any thing; and the junto, deputed by his majesty, to supervise the opera, reserve to themselves a right of nominating singers and dancers, which obliges the managers, sometimes, to pay them an exorbitant price; and, to add to the misfortune, the nobility here, as in England, are slow of pay, and a manager must not compel them. The women-dancers, by an order from court, are obliged to wear black drawers.

The exhibition is variegated by marches, battles, triumphs, all in the most grand execution. Battles are fought between numerous fencing-masters, in rich uniforms, and who appear all really fighting; the clashing of their weapons keeping time with the orchestra. These battles are not without their cavalry and mounted on horses from the king's stables, or those of the first nobility. In triumphs, the car is drawn by the king's finest-horses, caparisoned by the manager. The intervals between the acts, are filled up with ballets to French music.

Composers labour to rival each other in the music of the operas; and thus, frequently, the same piece is set several times to music. In Metastatio's Demophoon, set by the celebrated Sassone; the arietta Misero Pargoletto, in which Timante speaks to his son, whom he holds in his arms, the expression is of that nature, as to draw tears from the whole audience. Clapping, in Italy, is a signal for an encore; of course, they never clap, unless they wish to have the singing repeated; and this is sometimes done to a fifth or sixth time; and, in these repetitions it is, that the singer exerts every resource of nature and art, to surpass himself in each repetition, by the variety of gradations, which he introduces into the trills, modulations, and whatever belongs to the expression. Slight and quick as some of these gradations may be, not one of them escapes an Italian ear; they perceive them, they feel them, they relish them with a delight, in Italy, called, "The foretaste of the joys of Paradise;" where, we hope, there will be others equivalent for those nations, equally good; but, whose organs are less sensible to the powers of harmony.

There are two other theatres, in which comic operas are performed, without dances; and there is a neat little play-house, in which they act comedies. All the theatres are open on Saturday and Sunday evenings, and each of them once in the week, besides.

The playhouse, says Sharp, is hardly better than a cellar, and is usually called Cantina, (cellar) being ten steps down from the street into the pit, which holds seventy or eighty people, when crouded; the price a carline, four-pence halfpenny. There is a gallery round the pit, turned into ten or twelve boxes, each holding four; the price eight carlines for the box. At such a price, it is natural to suppose, that the scenes, dresses, actors, and decorations, must be indifferent. It will not, however, be so easy to imagine the shabbiness of the audience, which chiefly consists of men, in dirty caps and waistcoats, in the pit; for the boxes are generally empty. All the Italian gentlemen and ladies spit, and indelicately; not in their handkerchiefs, or in a bye corner; but, in the cantina, they spit all about them, on the walls, on your cloaths; and their nastiness is offensive to the last degree: the exhibition is little better than buffoonery, just as we see practised in England by Merry Andrews, on the stages of mountebanks, and on the outside of booths, at Bartholomew-fair.

In the most respectable class of citizens are comprehended the lawyers; of whom there are incredible numbers in this town. The most eminent of this profession hold, indeed, a kind of intermediate rank, between the nobility and citizens; the rest are on a level with the physicians, the principal merchants, and the artists; none of whom, with all their industry, can make great fortunes.

But these citizens having fewer avocations, and no public walks, or gardens, where they resort, are more frequently seen sauntering and conversing in the streets. In London and Paris, the people who fill the streets are mere passengers, hurrying from place to place, on business. They make no stop. Whilst you sit in your chamber, in either of these cities, the usual noise you hear from the streets is, that of the carriages; but at Naples, where they talk with uncommon vivacity, and where whole streets, full of talkers, are in continual employment; the noise of carriages is completely drowned, in the aggregated clack of human voices. In the midst of all this idleness fewer riots, or outrages of any kind happen, than might be expected in any town, where the police is far from being strict; and where such multitudes of poor unemployed people meet together, every day; a proof, that the national character of the Italians is quietness, submission, and good order; and partly to the common people, being universally sober.

Mr. Addison says, that when a Neapolitan does not know what to do with himself, he tumbles over his papers, in order to start a law-suit; for bow, otherwise, would the many thousands of lawyers be supported in this capital? The first time Mr. Sharp went to their vicaria, that is, their Westminster-hall, he was mortified in having set out so late from home, finding the street crowded with advocates, in their way to dinner; but, notwithstanding the difficulty he had of threading the multitude, who were pouring out in such numbers, he found, when he had pushed into the hall, almost as much pressing, as is usually met with the first night of a new play at the London theatres.

Northall informs us, that the inhabitants of Naples are divided into Titolati Mobili de Seggio, Nobilita fuori de Seggi, Civilta, and Plebe. To the first order belong the princes and nobility; to the second, all the natives of the country, with all strangers settled at Naples, and living in a noble manner; in the third, are ranked doctors in all sciences, lawyers, notaries, officers of the courts of judicature, physicians, bankers, jewellers, goldsmiths, silk-merchants, and book-sellers; the fourth class, comprehends all the rest of the inhabitants.

Naples, with respect to its municipal police, is divided into six seggis, or wards, five of which are governed by a committee of nobles; the other belongs to the plebeians, and is distributed into twenty-nine quarters, under the direction of an Eletto, or mayor. These wards meet in open porticos, which alternately have the honour of being the theatre where, in the month of May, the blood of St. Januarius is liquified, as will be spoken of hereafter.

The city having, as has been observed, neither watchman nor lamps, one father Rocco, a Dominican, has persuaded the people to subscribe oil for lamps, to burn before images; he fixes these up in the most convenient places, and thus turns their devotion to public account.

Provisions, I have observed, are plentiful and cheap; poultry, game, and fish, are abundant; fruit and vegetables are to be had all the winter. The wants of nature are so easily satisfied, says Marlyn, that the lower class of people work but little; their great pleasure is to bask in the sun, and do nothing. The lazaroni wallow about like swine. Persons of a middle rank pass much of their time in coffee-houses; few pursue their callings, with any degree of zeal or activity.

Architecture is by no means in a good taste at Naples. Of three hundred churches and upwards, there is not one, says Martyn, with a front or portico, which has any merit; many of them present nothing but a bare wall. They endeavour to make amends by abundance of interior decorations. There is a profusion of gilding and painting in them, but their painters have been corrupted by the national taste for brilliancy and extravagance.

However, to rescue this fine city from the accusation of a bad taste in its public ornaments, the king has caused the Farnesian bull to be transported from Rome, in order to have it placed on the great fountain, in the walk of the royal villa. This immense group consists of six figures, larger than life, and many smaller ones, together with the rock in which they are represented; all said to be hewn out of one block of marble. It was originally brought from Rhodes to Rome, and placed on Caracalla's baths. It represents Amphion and Zetus, who, by order of Antione their mother, are binding Dirce to the horns of a wild bull.

I Stadii Publici are the buildings of the university, made from designs of Fontana. The front is adorned with antique statues, found at Crema. Professors read lectures here on all the sciences.

There are, in this city, three conservatories, for the education of boys in the profession of music. These furnish a band for the church of the Franciscans, morning and evening, during eight days in October.

The monasteries of this city are exceedingly rich. There are not less than one hundred and seventy-eight of them including those hospitals that are under the directions of the monks; and, as the monks are the hereditary counsel of the populace, it is evident they do not want for counsellors. The monks, who converse with the nobility and the citizens, are very studious and artful, in scenting inheritances; and leave no stone unturned, to procure for their houses, either presents, or partial legacies, when they cannot grasp the whole To the success of these practices, are owing those amazing riches, which are displayed in the decoration of their churches, in the brilliant and very costly spectacles frequently given there, and in the enormous quantity of plate, with which their societies are crowded. The churches of Naples are, perhaps, as rich in this kind, as all the churches of Italy put together.

But, though they covet riches, they are, nevertheless, charitable; there being no poor-rates in Roman Catholic countries, as in England, the poor depend upon the benevolence of the people; and there are numbers of families every where, that distribute their donations to the necessitous, at certain appointed times, some, once a week; some, oftener. The convents generally feed the poor on certain days, who flock to the convents for what they have to dispose
MONKS feeding the POOR.

of. At these times, the friars not only give their waste meat, but dress provisions purposely to give away, and thus gladden the hearts of many.

Every monastery has a good laboratory, which brings in considerably. Most of the monks practise physic. Every laboratory is celebrated for some peculiar medicine, or conserve, which is not made any where else, and for these it has a sure demand.

I will close this account of Naples, with a declaration of Mr. Sherlock. Though it has many disagreeable circumstances attending it, so that a man who could live out of it, would not like to be an inhabitant of the place; yet, there are a variety of things that will attract a traveller, to view it, perhaps, in preference to most other cities of Europe; but, chiefly, an account of the delightful scenes around it. It is not surprizing, says Sherlock, that Virgil sh•uld make such fine verses at Naples; the air is so soft and so pure, the sun so brilliant and so warm, and the face of nature so rich and diversified; that the imagination feels a vivacity and vigour, which it scarce ever perceives in other countries.

I am not a poet, but I am one fond of verses, and I have never read them, adds he, with more pleasure than here. Every time I went to my window, I felt myself electrified; my spirits revived; my imagination grew warm; and my soul became susceptible of the softest and sublimest impressions; and, no wonder, when the objects that present themselves to my view are recited.

On the right, the hill of Pausilippo, whose form is semicircular, and adorned to its summit with trees and pleasure houses; from its point, which loses itself in the sea, this mountain increases insensibly, till it arrives behind the centre of Naples; and, on its summit is seen a vast tower, overlooking the city and crowning the scene. On the left, a chain of vast high mountains, surrounding the opposite side of the gulph, or bay of Naples; and whose rugged boldness, forms a most happy contrast with the elegant and cultivated beauties of Pausilippo. Shakespere and Corneille, would have looked to the left. Racine and Pope, to the right.

Of those mountains on the left, Vesuvius is the most interesting by its form, which is a very beautiful cone; by its height, and above all, by its vicinity to the city. It smokes incessantly, and seems to threaten Naples with the fall of Sodom and Gomorrah; an awful scene, it is true; yet sublime and grand to the extreme. At its foot is Portici; and all along the coast
BAY of NAPLES.

are towns hanging from the mountains, which form the portion of a circle of ninety miles.

The sea under my windows; and, besides the ideas which that sea presents, as the most interesting object in nature next the sun, by its grandeur, its beauty, and its variety of appearances, it here shews all the riches of commerce, by large ships passing and repassing every moment. Often did I rise before day, to enjoy the breezes of the morn, and the setting of the sun. In no horizon does he appear with more splendor; no where does he so well deserve the epithet of Golden. He rises behind Vesuvius, to illumine the pleasant hill of Pausilippo, and the bosom of the most beautiful bay in the universe; smooth as a mirror, and all in motion by the vessels. The object, that terminates the perspective, is the island of Caprea, famous for the retreat of Tiberius, and the rocks of the Syrens; on viewing it we call to mind, that near these rocks the prudent Ulysses stopped his ears; and that, not far from hence, the less wise Hannibal gave himself up to the pleasures of harmony, and the caresses of the seducing Camilla.

CHAP. IV. Of the People, Character, &c.

THE people, both of city and country, are vigorous, robust, raw-boned, full of fire and sprightliness; active, indefatigably laborious, and, in a word, cut out for war; they are not any thing like the Italians of Upper Italy. They pride themselves in being descended from the Greeks, and resembling them. They are broad and full-chested, with a short thick neck; fleshy, with a fine complexion, and a very brisk eye. They go with the neck and shoulders, breast and arms, almost naked. I do not include in this picture, the substantial citizens, nor the lawyers, nor the nobility. These classes, who are no less prudent from system, than the people from instinct, devote themselves to idleness, as they did in Ovid's time; and sacrifice to pleasure all the advantages of a happy constitution, and a fiery temperament. They are the most voluptuous of men; but yet, Naples, though without so much as the shadow of police, knows very
NEAPOLITANS.

little of those disorders, which all the magistrates' vigilance at Paris and London, can scarcely prevent. This, as I have observed, must arise chiefly from their sobriety, and passive disposition.

The women and children do not look so healthy here, as in other parts of Italy. A great number of women are observed, to have wens in their throats, as bad as in some other countries; owing to their drinking, in summer, so great a quantity of snow-water.

The common dress of the ordinary women, which ladies likewise adopt, if they venture abroad on foot, and wish not to be known, are two black, silk petticoats, which serve entirely to conceal their whole figures; as, when both are tied round the waist, one is suddenly turned up; and, as they pull it quick over their heads, a loose trimming of narrow, black gauze, drops over the face; whilst a hook and eye fastens all close under the chin, and gives them an air not unlike our country wenches, who throw the gown tail over their heads, to protect them from a summer shower. The holliday dresses of the peasants, round Naples, are very rich and cumbersome. We often see, says Mrs. Piozzi, a great, coarse, raw-bone fellow, panting for heat under a thick blue velvet coat, comical enough; the females in a scarlet cloth petticoat, with a broad gold-lace at the bottom; a jacket open before, but charged with heavy ornaments, and the head▪ not unbecomingly, dressed with an embroidered hankerchief from Turkey.

Swinburne says, the young countrywomen are, in general, far from handsome, though they have fine eyes and handsome features; their hands and feet are clumsy, their shapes neglected, their necks not firm, and their skins discoloured, by living so much in the sun, without bonnets. Amongst them, we may find almost every mode of hair-dressing, seen in the Greek and Roman coins. The coiffeure of the younger Faustina, with the coil of plaited hair upon the crown of the head, occurs, frequently, in the old town; that with the coil lower down, which may be properly stiled Lucilla's head-dress, is common among the younger part of the sex, in the suburbs of Chiaia, and Plotinas, among the women more advanced in years. Very little suffices to cloath the lazaroni, except on holidays; and then he is, indeed, tawdrily decked out with a laced jacket, and flame-coloured stockings; his buckles are of an enormous magnitude; and seem to be the prototype of those with which our present men of mode load their insteps. The women are also very splendid on such days of show; but their hair is then bound up in tissue caps, and scarlet nets. Citizens and lawyers are plain enough in their apparel; but, the female part of their family vies with the first court ladies, in expensive dress, and all the vanities of modish fopperies. Luxury hath, of late, advanced with gigantic strides at Naples. Forty years ago, the Neapolitan ladies wore nets and ribbands on their heads, as the Spanish women do at this day, and not twenty of them were possessed of a cap: but hair, plainly dressed, is a mode now confined to the lowest order of people; and all the distinction of dress, between the wife of a nobleman, and that of a citizen, is entirely laid aside. Expence and extravagance are here in the extreme; the great families, adds Swinburne, are oppressed with a load of debt; the working part of the community always spend the price of their labour before they receive it; and the citizen is reduced to great parsimony, almost to penury, in housekeeping; in order to answer these demands of external show. Short commons, at home; whet his appetite, when invited out to dinner; and it is scarce credible what a quantity of victuals he will devour. The nobility, in general, are well served, and live comfortably, but it is not their custom to invite strangers; the number of poor dependents that dine with them, and cannot properly be introduced into company, prevents the great families from inviting foreigners: another reason may be, their sleeping after dinner in so regular a manner, as to undress and go to bed. No ladies, or gentlemen, finish their toilets till the afternoon; on which account they dine at twelve or one o'clock. The great officers of state, and ministers, live in a different style, and keep sumptuous tables; to which strangers and others have frequent invitations.

The establishment of a Neapolitan grandee's household, is on a very expensive plan. The number of servants, and equipages, would suffice for a sovereign prince; and the wardrobe of their wives is on the same magnificent scale; yet no lady, of whatever rank or fortune, has more than one hundred ducats a month, for pin-money. At the birth of every child, the husband makes his wife a present of one hundred ounces of silver, and some valuable trinkets, according to his fortune.

The king takes very little state upon him; he lives among his subjects, with the old Roman idea, of a window in his heart; he rides and rows, and hunts the wild boar, says Mrs. Piozzi, and catches fish in the bay; and sells it too, at market, as dear as he can; but gives away the money directly, so that he is very much beloved. The people know the worst of him, that is, he shoots at the birds, dances with the girls, eats macaroni, and rows against the watermen in the bay. One of them, when this lady was there, by his uncourtly effort, she adds, to out-row the king, strained himself, and bled much at the nose; this accident made the king conqueror, and he won the trifling wager that was laid between them; laughed, and leaped on shore, amid the acclamations of the populace, who huzza'd him home to his palace; from whence he sent double the sum he won to the waterman's wife, with other tokens of kindness. For, whilst he resolves to be happy himself, he is equally determined to make no man wretched. When the Emperor and the Grand Duke, his brothers in law, talked to him of their new projects, for reformation in the church, he told them, that he saw but little advantage they brought into their states, by these new fangled notions; that when he was at Milan and Florence, the deuce a Neapolitan could be found in either, whilst his capital was crouded with refugees from them; that, in short, they might do their way, but he would do his; that he had not now an enemy in the world, public or private; and that he would not make himself any, for the sake of propagating doctrines he did not understand, and could not take the trouble to study; that he should say his prayers as he used to do, and had no doubt of their being heard, whilst he only begged blessings on his beloved people; so, if these wise brothers-in-law would see him enjoy life, instead of shortening it, by unnecessary cares, they might come and see him the next morning, play a match at tennis.

The truth is, the jolly Neapolitans lead a coarse life, but an unoppressed one. Marks of abundance are seen in all parts of the town. There is no settled market in any place; but every third shop, almost, is full of what the French call so properly, ammunition de bouche; whilst whole boars, kids, and small calves, dangle from a sort of neat scaffolding, all with their skins on, and make a pretty appearance. Poulterers hang up their birds in the feathers too; not lay them on boards plucked, as they do at Venice and London. The principal streets, says Swinburne, are lined with sellers of macaroni, fried and boiled fish, puddings, cakes, and vegetables of all sorts; where, for a very small sum, which the lazaroni earn, by running of an errand, or picking of pockets, he may find a ready meal, at all hours. The flaggon, hanging out at every convent, invites him to quench his thirst with wine; or if he prefers water, as most of the poor do, there are stalls in all the thoroughfares, where lemonade and iced water is sold. The passion for iced water is so great, and so general at Naples, that none but mere beggars will drink it in its natural state; and a scarcity of bread would not be more severely felt, than a scarcity of snow. It is brought in boats every morning, from the mountains behind Castelamare, and is farmed out at a great rent by the Jesuits.

In the Christmas season, the Italians are peculiarly ingenious in decorating their shops, and setting out their wares. Every grocer, fruiterer, &c. mingles orange, lemon, and myrtle leaves among the goods exposed at his door, as we do ever-greens in our churches; but with infinitely more taste. Some odd pretty moveable coffee-houses too, or lemonade-shops, set on wheels, adorned with gilding, painting, &c. and covered with ices, orgeats, and other refreshments; as it were in emulation, each of the other, and in a strange variety of shapes and forms, help towards the finery of Naples. I have counted thirty, adds Mrs. Piozzi, of these galante shops, on each side of the street; which, with their necessary illuminations, make a brilliant figure by candle-light, till twelve at night; when all the show ceases, and every one puts out his candle and goes to bed. Till that hour, however, few things can exceed the merriment of Naples; while volantes, or running-footmen, dressed like tumblers before a show, precede all carriages of distinction, and endeavour to keep the people from being run over; yet, whilst they are listening to some street orator, as shall be presently described, they often get crushed and killed: yet as Pope says,

See some strange comfort every state attend.

The lazaroni, who has his child run over by a man of quality, has a regular claim on him for no less than twelve carlines, about five shillings English. If it is his wife, he gets two ducats, live or die; and for the master of the family, not a housekeeper, (for house he has none) three ducats is the settled compensation, for they do not stand here for trifles. The truth is, human life is lower rated in all parts of Italy than with us. They think nothing of an individual, but see him perish, (except by the hand of justice) as a cat, or a dog. A young man, says this same author, sell from our carriage one evening, at Milan, a friend whom our coachman had picked up. There was a crowd in the street, and an embarras, and the fellow tumbled from behind, and died on the spot. No one even spoke upon the occasion, or I believe thought about the matter, except one woman; who supposed he had neglected to cross himself when he got up behind.

In Naples, says Dr. Moore, they are accustomed to street orators; these are men who, spouter-like, will repeat stanzas from Ariosto, or any other poet, in a pompous, recitative cadence, peculiar to the natives of Italy, and who hold the book in their hands, in case their memory should fail them. They occasionally comment on the passages they recite, in prose; in order to bring the poet's expression nearer to the capacities of their hearers. The Doctor tells us, he listened to one some time, and that his auditory increased every moment; men, women, and children, bringing seats from the neighbouring houses, to sit down round him. His cloak hung loose from one shoulder, his right-arm being disengaged for the purposes of oratory. Sometimes he winds it with a slow, smooth motion, according with the cadence of the verses; sometimes he pressed it to his heart, to give energy to the pathos of the poet. Now he gathered the hanging folds of the right side of his cloak, and held them gracefully up, in imitation of a Roman senator; and anon he swung them across his left shoulder, like a citizen of Naples; he humoured the stanza by his voice, which he could modulate to the key of any passion; from the boisterous bursts of rage, to the tender notes of pity and of love. But, when he came to describe the exploits of Orlando, from Ariosto, he trusted neither to the power of his own voice, nor the poet's genius; but, throwing off his cloak, and grasping his cane, he assumed the warlike attitude, and stern countenance of that hero; representing, by the most animated actions, how he drove his spear through the bodies of six of her enemies at once; the point, at the same time, killing a seventh, who would also have remained transfixed with his companions, if the spear could have held more than six men of an ordinary size upon it, at a time.

The knight of Aglant now has couched his spear,

Where closely prest the men and arms appear;

First one, and then another, helpless dies;

Thro' six at once, the lance impetuous flies,

And on the seventh inflicts so deep a wound,

That prone, he tumbles lifeless to the ground.

HOOLE.

His audience illiterate, as we may suppose them, seemed to feel the pathetic and sublime, as well as the ludicrous parts of the ancient bard.

At Rome, these street-orators entertain their audience with entertaining passages from history; that whilst it amuses the populace, and keeps them from less innocent and more expensive pastimes, it gives them some general idea of history. Street-orators, therefore, are a more useful set of men, than another class, of which there are numbers at Rome, who entertain companies with extemporaneous verses, on any given subject, and who are called Improuvisatori.

Little concerts, of vocal and instrumental music, are heard every evening in some particular street; and on the beach of the bay; and young men and women are seen dancing to the music of ambulatory performers.

To the mere spectator, the amusements of the common people afford more delight than those of the great, because they seem to be more enjoyed by the former, than the latter. After insipid characters in high life, whose internal vacancy leads them to seek amusement in public places, and whose insensibility prevents them from finding it, have, probably, brought this appearance of a want of all enjoyment into fashion; those who wish to be thought of what is called the Ton, imitate the mawkists insipidity of their superiors in rank, and imagine it distinguishes them from the vulgar, to suppress all the natural expressions of pity, joy, or admiration; and to seem, upon all occasions, in a state of complete apathy. These amiable creatures frequent public places, that it may be said of them, "They are not as other men are." You will see them occasionally at the play-houses, placed in the boxes, as so many frights with unchanging features; and whilst the rest of the audience yield to the emotions excited by the poets and the actors, these men of the Ton, preserve the most distressed serenity of countenance; and, except pronouncing, from time to time, Pshaw! and Stuff!—one would think them the express representation of the Pagan gods, who have eyes, but do not see; and ears, but do not hear.

Not so a Naples auditory; no busts that gather round the street orators here. I saw very lately, says Moore, a large cluster of men, women, and children, entertained to the highest degree; and, to all appearance, made exceedingly happy, by a poor fellow with a mask on his face, and a guitar in his hands. He assembled the crowd by the songs that he sung, accompanied by his instrument; and by a thousand merry stories he told them with infinite drollery. This assembly was in an open place, facing the bay, and near the palace. The old women sat listening, with their distaffs, spinning a coarse flax, and wetting the thread with their spittle; their grand-children sprawling at their feet, and amused with the twirling of the spindle. The men and their wives, the youths and their mistresses, sat in a circle, with their eyes fixed on the musician, who kept them laughing for a great part of the evening, with his stories, which he introduced occasionally, with tunes on the guitar. At last, when the company was most numerous, and at the highest pitch of good humour, he suddenly pulled off his mask, laid down his guitar, opened a little box that stood before him, and addressed his audience in the following words: "Ladies and Gentlemen, there is a time for all things; we have had jesting enough; innocent mirth is excellent for the health of the body, but other things are requisite for the health of the soul. I will now, with your permission, my honourable masters and mistresses, entertain you with something serious, and of infinitely greater importance; something, for which all of you will have reason to bless me, as long as you live." Here he shook out of a bag, a great number of little wooden crucifixes. "I am just come from the holy house of Loretto, my fellow Christians," continued he, "on purpose to furnish you with these jewels, more precious than all the gold of Peru, and all the pearls of the ocean. Now, my beloved brethren and sisters, you are afraid that I shall demand a price for these sacred crosses, far above your abilities, and something correspondent with their value; by way of indemnification, for the fatigue and expence of the long journey I have made on your account, all the way from the habitation of the blessed Virgin, to this thrice renowned city of Naples; the riches and liberality of whose inhabitants are celebrated all over the globe. No, my generous Neapolitans, I do not wish to take the advantage of your pious and liberal dispositions; I will not ask for these invaluable crucifixes (all of which, let me inform you, have touched the foot of the holy image of the blessed Virgin, which was formed by the hands of St. Luke; and, moreover, each of them has been taken in the Santissimo Scodella, the sacred porringer, in which the Virgin made the pap for for the infant Jesus) I will not, I say, ask an ounce of gold, no, not even a crown of silver; my regard for you is such, that I shall let you have them for a penny a piece."

This morsel of eloquence, no doubt, was a great pennyworth; and, when we recollect the sums that some men are paid for their oratory in England, though they never can produce so pathetic a specimen; we must naturally conclude, that eloquence is a much rarer commodity in England, than in Italy.

Writers seem to attribute to the Neapolitans, a barbarity of disposition. Sherlock says, they are good people, but have adopted by instinct, the citizen of Geneva; and they cultivate neither the arts nor the sciences, through fear of corrupting their morals. If the nation is barbarous, it is far from being harsh, or severe; on the contrary, it is very good-natured, and desirous of contributing to the pleasure of foreigners. They are naturally good, but are absolutely in the state in which nature produced them; and they perpetrate all crimes, and are guilty of all sorts of rudeness, without being conscious of doing wrong. Having had no education, they have no principle. A man of the first quality will tread on your toes, and not make you the least apology; acquainted with you the next day, he cannot do enough to oblige you; he will carry you to a concert, offer you his box at the theatre; he will do all he knows; but all he knows is little. It is the same with the women, they have all an inclination to be amiable, but they know not how.

The race of Sirens are not yet extinct here; there are many young women who sing divinely; of Circes there are scarce any; but we see, in the assemblies, several of the companions of Ulysses. The easiness of the women, and the Scirocco enervate the bodies of the men, and music enervates their souls; so as to render useless all the beauties which nature has lavished on this charming country. In no other place will be found more natural talents, or more circumstances favourable to the arts; but the causes abovementioned, added to the indolence inspired by the climate, and the absolute want of Maecenases to patronise them, render Naples, as savage as Russia; and, as a proof of this assertion, all the Russians, that visit the place, are struck with the resemblance between the Neapolitans and their countrymen.

After giving my readers the opinion of Mr. Sherlock, who seems to write with a tenderness for human nature. It may not be amiss to observe what Keysler says upon this subject. According to some, says he, there is a greater evil still remains, than either the scorpion or tarantula. The worst creatures, say these people, in this delicious country, are the inhabitants themselves; who, besides, their execrable and unnatural lusts, are of a vindictive, treacherous, and bloody disposition.

Though national charges generally imply ignorance, narrowness of soul, and uncharitableness; it is certain, that the history of Naples, almost beyond any other, abounds in sad instances of excessive depravity of human nature. Tophana, the noted female poisoner, who first invented the Aqua Tophania, was living in prison, when Keysler was there; and few foreigners left Naples, without seeing this infernal hag. She was a little old woman, who had entered into a kind of religious sisterhood; and, on this account, if not on a worse, her life was spared. She is said to have poisoned some hundreds of people, and was remarkably liberal of her drops, which she gave by way of alms, to wives, who, from several intimations, she knew would not be inconsoleable for the loss of their husbands. Five or six drops of this liquid, would dispatch the person who took them; and they could be lowered, or tempered, so as to take effect in any determinate time. This water, says Keysler, still continues to be privately made at Naples, under the appellation of Acquetta di Napoli; and not many years since, a small cask of it was, according to orders, sent to a certain country; but since, lemon-juice has been found an antidote against it; this vile composition has fallen into some disrepute.

It must be in consequence of the precariousness of punishment, says Sharp, that this city furnishes many more delinquents, in proportion to its size, than our wicked London. There are in the prisons, at Naples, generally between two and three thousand; some say more; besides about two thousand in the galleys, lying in the harbour. Even murderers, sometimes, escape unpunished. It is scarce credible, but a magistrate of this city declared to a gentleman, who was asking some questions on the subject, that, the preceding week, the populace had been very orderly, for that only four murders had been committed. This, adds Sharp, I had from a noble Neapolitan, who attested it as a fact; perhaps it might be exaggerated; but they certainly do not hold murder in so horrid a light here, as in colder climates. A young gentleman informed me, that on the road to this place, from Rome, he saw at a distance a scuffle among some postillions, in which, as it turned out afterwards, one of them was stabbed dead. On enquiry into the matter, he was cooly answered, that it was only a colpo di coltello, (a stab with a knife.)

The indifference with which the crime of murder is regarded, among the lower classes of the Italians, is further illustrated by the following anecdote. A gentleman of Naples, in passing occasionally before the king's palace, had frequently noticed a man of singular appearance at work. He was chained to some others, and assisted in removing rubbish, and bringing stones for a new building, the foundation of which had just been laid. The man, by having often seen him pass, recollected his person, and always took off his hat, as he found an opportunity. The gentleman, not knowing how to account for his attention, was induced, one day, to inquire the cause of his civility and of his chains. To the first part of the query he answered, in the Neapolitan style, that it was "il suo devere, his duty;" and to the second he said, that he was in that predicament for una minchionerioe, a trifle." "Ho ammazzata solamente una donna," said he, "I have only killed a woman."

The inhabitants of this country, says Keysler, have, in all ages been remarkable for a voluptuous manner of living. The luxury of Capua and Atella is well known, and Naples is by Ovid stiled,

—in otia natam

Parthenopen—

"Naples of luxury the native seat."

It must be owned that in no great city, in Europe, are the prostitutes so numerous and abandoned. These Donne libere, as they are called, amount to eighteen thousand in this one city; and one particular part of it is a receptacle for two thousand; and yet it is no uncommon thing for ecclesiastics to lodge in these infamous parts of the town. This totally corrupts all the youth; and the clergy, being exempt from the civil jurisdiction, and connived at by their superiors, that the sacred order may not be disgraced by punishments, set the worst of examples.

They tell us, says Moore, that the very air of Italy contributes to its profligacy. Propertius intreats his Cynthia not to remain too long on shore, which he seems to think dangerous to the chastest maiden.

Tu modo quam primum corruptas desere Baias,

Littora quoe fuerant castis inimica puellis. [*]

Martial asserts, that a woman, who came here as chaste as Penelope, if she remained any time, would depart as licentious and depraved as Helen. I have certainly met with ladies, after they have resided some time at Naples, who, in point of character and constitution, were thought to have much stronger resemblance to Helen than Penelope; but, as I have no faith, adds Moore, in the sudden operations of physical causes, in matters of this kind; I never doubted of these ladies having carried the same disposition to Naples, as they brought from it. Though there are not wanting those who affirm, that the influence of this seducing climate, is evident now, in as strong a degree, as it is described to have been anciently; that it pervades people of all ranks and conditions, and that in the convents themselves:

Even there where frozen chastity retires,

Love finds an altar for forbidden fires.

For my own part, continues this author, I must acknowledge, that I saw nothing whilst I was there, to justify the general imputation above-mentioned. There are persons who contend, that the Neapolitans are of a colder constitution▪ and more philosophic in the command of their passions, than any people in Europe. Do not the lower class of men, say they, strip themselves before the houses, which front the bay, and bathe in the sea, without the least ceremony? Are not numbers of these athletic figures, during the heat of the day, seen walking and sporting on the shore perfectly naked, and with no more idea of shame, than Adam, felt in his state of innocence; whilst the ladies from their coaches, and the servant maids and young girls, who pass along, contemplate this singular spectacle, with as little apparent emotion, as the ladies in Hyde-park, behold a review of the horse-guards?

Grosley says, princes are as common at Naples, as marquisses at Paris. The luxury of the nobility lies chiefly in their equipages. Their mules, or horses, are the finest that can be got; the length of the traces is one chief mark of grandeur and distinction; and their lacqueys are very handsome well-made fellows, in rich liveries, trailing swords of an enormous length; whereas the master's sword, which is more like a poniard, is carried by the first lackey at a button-hole.

The peasants in this country, according to Keysler, are so flothful, as to prefer begging, or robbing, to labour and industry; but, in the city of Naples, there is something of an industrious spirit, and several flourishing manufactures are there carried on. It is a phrase here, that a king, to keep the people quiet, must provide three F's; namely, Feste, Farine, and Forche; that is, "Festivity, Flour, and Gibbets," the people being excessively fond of public diversions; clamorous on the dearth of corn; and seditious, unless kept in awe by severity.

The fishermen of St. Lucia, says Swinburne, are the handsomest men in Naples. They have the true old Grecian features, and such well-proportioned limbs, as might serve for models in any academy of design. Indeed, the whole race of men in this city, according to Sharp, are more robust and athletic, than the run of mankind in London, and carry larger burdens.

Wives are in such subordination to their husbands, that, though the lower class, particularly fishermen's wives, is always fighting and scolding, they never resist their husband's authority; but, when he comes, to separate the combatants, and carry home his dishevelled spouse, she goes off quietly with him; and seems to stand as much in awe of her consort, as the Russian wives do of theirs, and suffers herself to be beaten by him with as little murmuring. I was once, says Swinburne, shewn a woman here, who, during the life of her first husband, was a pattern of modesty, and evenness of temper to the whole parish; but, in contracting a second marriage, surprized and scandalized the neighbourhood with her perpetual riots, and boisterous behaviour. On being reprimanded by the curate, she ever frankly acknowledged, that her former husband understood the management of a wife, and used to check her intemperate bursts of passion, by timely correction; but that her present helpmate was too mild to apply the proper chastisement, which every wife requires more or less. Men seldom interfere in feminine brawls; when they do, they generally content themselves with abusing, threatening, or shaking a cudgel, or pitchfork at their antagonist, till the crowd comes in to part them. Sometimes a man is stabbed, but this is rare among the fishermen. Manners vary with the districts; in some they engage with bludgeons. These are the true lazaroni of Massaniello; in others, the attack is made with knives, and other deadly weapons; but the Neapolitans are by no means so blood-thirsty and revengeful, as represented. It requires more than a slight provocation to lead them to extremities. Drunkenness is not a common vice at Naples, of course, quarrels are rare. It is also uncommon to see any thing, in public, like gallantry, among the people; no soldiers, or sailors, leading their doxies; or girls going about in quest of lovers; all which, in other countries, give rise to riot and bloodshed. Though at Naples, there is only a nominal police, yet house-breaking is unknown, riots still more so; it bears no proportion to the murders committed in the distant provinces, where I am credibly informed, says Swinburne, no less than four thousand persons are killed annually. Most of these crimes are perpetrated with guns, in the mountainous countries, where a great ferocity of character and wildness of manners prevail.

Cicisbeos are as general here, as in other parts of Italy. Many people in England imagine, the majority of Cicisbeos, to be an innocent kind of dangling fribble, but they are utterly mistaken; nor do I find that it is understood here, says Sharp, that the ladies live in greater purity with their Cicisbeos, than with their husbands; and generally speaking, with much less. If only one-half of the ladies practised this custom, the other half would despise them; but, in fact, very few have any pretence to upbraid the rest with bad conduct. To say the truth, if you invite five ladies to dinner, you must lay ten plates; as each, for a certainty, brings her Cicisbeo with her.

How is it probable, that husbands and wives should have any love for each other, when they are always brought together, without the least participation of their own; nothing being consulted by parents, but fortune and family.

Children here, have very little tendency to support the friendship and harmony of the married state. A certain knowledge of every wife's attachment to a lover extinguishes all social affection, and all fondness for the offspring; and it is only the eldest born who, the husband is sure belongs to him; and for that security, it is generally requisite the birth should take place the first year, as the women seldom hold out longer without a Cicesbeo.

The Calabrese have some very capricious notions. One is, says Swinburne, that every child, whose mother has been true to her marriage vow, must necessarily resemble the father. It is thought a reproach, to have been fuckled by any one but one's own mother.

They repose great confidence in judgments, and expect to see every one who jeers at the defect of another, afflicted with the same. Inoculation has been attempted at one place near Reggio; but from ill success and superstitious aversion, those who have undergone the operation, are marked by some opprobrious nickname.

If a person dies in the fields, it is believed his spirit will appear in the same place, in white robes; and that the only way of laying it is, to send out young boys to approach silently, and to cover it with a volley of stones. Not long since, says Swinburne, a Dominican priest, sitting in his white garment, on a hill near Tropea, taking a sketch of the country; was supposed to be the spirit of an old mad woman, who had dropped down dead some time before, on that very spot; and was near being killed by the youths of the neighbouring village, before he could convince them of the little conceits of their error.

The funeral behaviour, and measure of grief of the Calabrese, are regulated by the strictest etiquette. The virtues, as well as vices, of a deceased father of a family, are recapitulated by the oldest man in company. The widow repeats his words, adds comments of her own, then roars out loudly, and plucks off handfuls of her hair, which she strews over the bier. Daughters tear their locks, and beat their breasts, but remain silent. More distant relations repeat the oration cooly, and commit no outrage upon their persons. When the kinsman of a baron, or a rich citizen dies, a number of old women are hired to perform all these ceremonies, and howl for the family.

At Naples, the forms are rather different. I was one day, says Swinburne, present at the funeral of an old fisherman. The actions of his widow were so overstrained, as to be truly ridiculous; she tore off her hair and clothes, and yelled in the most hideous manner, till her step-sons appeared to take possession of the goods. She then turned, her fury upon them, and beat them out of the house. The priests now came for the body, and she opposed their entry for a decent length of time; but, at last, suffering herself to be overpowered, flew to the window with her daughters and her mother (who, from having outlived many relations, had scarcely a hair left on her head) and there beat her breast, scratched her cheeks, and threw whole handfuls of hair towards the bier, with the frantick gestures of a demoniack. The procession was no sooner out of sight, than all was quiet; and in five minutes I heard them laughing and dancing about the room, as if rejoicing to be rid of the old churl.

In some parts of the country, it is a rule to fast the whole day of interment. Two women, in a village near Salerno, mother and daughter of a farmer, at whose removal from the house, they had acted their parts with great applause, locked themselves up; and, in order to gather strength, after the fatigue they had undergone; began, in defiance of custom, to fry some pieces of tripe for their dinner. As ill luck would have it, a couple of relations, who living at a great distance, had come too late for the ceremony, knocked at the door, to pay their respects to the disconsolate widow. Great was the difficulty they found in gaining admittance: all the parade of grief was again displayed, the dinner slipped into a napkin, and hid under the bed, and nothing heard in the room but groans and lamentations. The strangers entered with composed mien, and were endeavouring, with little success, to administer comfort to their unhappy kinswomen; when behold! a dog they had brought with them, winded the fry, and dragged it out into the middle of the floor, to the great anger of the visitors, and utter confusion of the mourners, whose reputation was irretrievably ruined in the esteem of the whole parish.

CHAP. V. Of the Environs, East of Naples.

THE environs of Naples are highly entertaining to the classical scholar, the antiquary, and the naturalist. To the West are Puzzuoli, and Baiae; to the East, Vesuvius, the subterranean cities, and the museum at Portici.

The commencement of the road, from Naples to Puzzuoli, lies through the grotta di Pausilippe, which opens into one of the suburbs. Formerly, it was necessary to cross Mount Pausilippo, which, from its delightful appearance, is said to have derived its Greek name, implying grief appeasing; but, at present, that labour is unnecessary; a broad subterraneous road being cut through the mountain. This passage is conducted, chiefly, through large rocks, and sometimes through strata of sand. It is at both ends, between ninety and an hundred feet high, in order to throw in more light. Towards the middle, where the top is lower, two large vent-holes, for light and air, are made through the roof of this grotto; but the light is not sufficient; and travellers are, besides, extremely incommoded with the dust, in this subterraneous passage. The bottom of it, which in the time of Charles V. was paved with broad stones, like the streets of Naples, is cleaned several times in a year; and then it is pretty free from dust; but, as it is a road extremely frequented, this convenience is of no long duration. The breadth is between eighteen and twenty feet, so that there is sufficient room for two carriages to avoid each other, and, to prevent any inconvenience on this head; it is usual, in the dark places, to call out to any person coming the contrary Way, to know on which side they intend to keep. When they answer alla montagna, "to the mountain," it signifies the Naples side; which, to those coming from the city, is on the right-hand; and alla marina, "to the sea," denotes the left-hand side. We have often drove through this passage, says Lady Millar, but never without flambeaux.

Its length is something more than half an Italian mile. On the left-hand, near the middle, is an oratory hewn out of the rock, with a lamp continually burning in it. The grotto is, by the vulgar, supposed to have been made by magic, and that Virgil was the sorcerer who wrought it. The poet, it is true, gives a description of the Cumaean grotto, but this the learned populace apply to the grotto of Pausilippo; and conclude, since he has so circumstantially described an ancient sybil, or prophetess, that he must have been a wizard. If a man, says Addison, would form to himself a just idea of this place, he must fancy a vast rock, undermined from one end to the other, and a highway running through it, near as long and as broad as the Mall in St. James's park.

Opinions vary concerning the first openers of this grotto. This kind of rocky substance is perforated with so much ease, and the custom of carrying on subterraneous galleries, seems to have prevailed at so very early a period of society, that some authors have ascribed the work to the giants, or the Cimmerians, who were wont to make caves, their places of residence, as well as the repository of their plunder. Others assert it to have been done by Cocceius, an architect, of the Augustan age. From Seneca's expressions, complaining of its inconveniences, we gather, that it was then open only for foot passengers.

Possibly, the cutting of a road through the mountain, was at first not thought of, but the great quantity of stones fetched out of it, for the buildings in Naples, and Puzzuoli, might occasion such a deep excavation on both sides; that, at last, for the convenience of travelling, government employed workmen to pull down, and clear away the intermediate space: besides, it is not to be supposed the way was at first in such a good condition, as it is at present. Seneca, in his fifty-seventh letter says, Nihil illo carcere longius, nihil illis faucibus obscurius; i. e. "This dungeon is intolerably long and extremely dark." From whence it may be inferred, that the apertures, which in Strabo's time, through which light entered at the sides, were soon after stopped up, either by earthquakes, or want of proper care.

Neapolitan historians agree, that king Alphonso, of the Arragon family, caused this passage to be considerably widened; and Don Pedro de Toledo, viceroy, under the emperor Charles V. is known to have given orders for levelling and paving the ground, as likewise for enlarging the two vent-holes, which had been bored through by order of Alphonso I. That it was entirely wrought by art, is unquestionable, from the marks it bears of chizels, and other tools used by stone-cutters. The earthquakes that have made such havock, among the numerous remains of antiquity in these parts, have hitherto spared this useful work. Its safety is, probably, due to the solidity of the rock, in which there does not appear any veins, or mixture of sulphur, or any kind of inflammable particles. Under this mountain is a large quarry, from which they dig stone, that is frequently used in the buildings at Naples. On the side of the mountain next the sea, and amongst the rocks, grows the plant Opuntia, or Indian fig, on which is found the cochineal. Upon the top of this grotto, are still some remains of an antique aqueduct, which conveyed water from Serino, to supply a reservoir called Piscina mirabile, of which we shall speak hereafter.

The dust in this grotto, says Swinburne, is intolerable in summer, and the scantiness of light at all seasons of the year, distressing; for, that which is admitted through the apertures abovementioned, is no security against the danger of being run over, crushed against the wall, or at least hurt by the faggots which asses are continually bringing from the woods. I never could accustom myself, says the above author, perfectly to this subterraneous road, but with hasty steps sought to leave it as the seat of noise, gloom, dust, and unwholesome damps; wondering, at the same time, how passengers ventured into such a place at all hours, singly, or in company, without any guard to prevent assaults, or sufficient light to detect a lurking assassin. Were a similar thoroughfare necessary, near any other capital, it would require all the exertion of the magistracy, to preserve the lives and properties of the inhabitants, who had occasion to pass through it; near London, none but a madman would venture into it. It is certainly no small matter of surprize, to find this passage so secure, in a country so ill provided with officers of police; it reflects honour upon the national character, and, indeed, it behoves me to give testimony in its favour; as I never, says Swinburne, met with any insult, nor saw reason to expect one, during my long abode among the Neapolitans, or my innumerable and pervious rides and walks, through different parts of the kingdom.

Above the Eastern entrance of this celebrated grotta, on the brink of a precipice, in a vineyard belonging to the Marquis Salcitro, are to be seen the ruins of an ancient mausoleum. It was originally built in the form of a pyramid; but the lower part of it, which is all that is now remaining, is not much unlike a large oven. The way to it is not to be found without a guide; and, on the side towards Pausilippo, it is so narrow, and runs along such a high precipice, that it is somewhat dangerous to persons subject to giddiness. This ancient ruin, generally passes for the monument of the poet Virgil; but without sufficient grounds, says Keysler, to warrant such conjecture. In the wall within it, are ten small niches, or cavities, apparently designed for urns. According to Alphonso de Hereda, late bishop of Ariano, the marble urn in which Virgil's arches had been deposited, stood here on nine small, marble pillars, of which, at present, there is not the least appearance; and what became of such a remarkable piece of antiquity, is also a great mystery. Some pretend, that at the earnest solicitations of the inhabitants of Mantua, they were presented to that city; but others affirm, that the Cardinal of Mantua, found means to get them into his possession. The third opinion is, that the urn was transported to Genoa, but that the pillars were applied to some other use. This is certain, that at Mantua, where they pride themselves not a little, on account of their city being the birth-place of that immortal bard, they know nothing of the place of his burial. Stessano, in his account of the churches of Naples says, that in his time, which was no longer ago than 1560, both the urn and the pillars were in being, with this distich, then legible, near them:

Mantua me genuit: Calabri rapuere: tenet nunc

Parthenope: cecini pascua, rura, duces.

"I sung slocks, tillage, heroes; Mantua gave

"Me life; Brundusium, death; Naples, a grave."

DRYDEN.

This inscription was set up again in 1684, by order of the Duke di Pescolanciano, to whom this garden then belonged. The Mausoleum is now overgrown with shrubs and bushes, among which are a few laurel trees, supposed by the credulous, to grow again spontaneously, though often rooted up. At present, the only inscription in the whole Mausoleum, is the following:

Quoe cineris tumulo hoec vestigia? Conditur olim

Ille hoc qui cecinit, pascua, rura, duces.

"What traces now remain within this tomb,

Where once reposed that sacred bard, who sung

Of swains, of tillage, and heroic deeds."

Many a solitary walk, says Moore, have I taken to this place. The earth which contains his ashes, we expected to find cloathed in the brightest verdure. Viewed from this magic spot, the objects which adorn the bay, become doubly interesting. The poets verses are here recollected with additional pleasure; the verses of Virgil are interwoven in our minds, with a thousand interesting ideas; with the memory of our boyish years, or the sportive scenes of childhood, of our earliest friends and companions, many of whom are now dead; and of those who still live and for whom we retain the first impression of affection, and who are at such distance, as renders the hope of ever seeing them again uncertain. No wonder, therefore, that in a contemplative mood, our steps are often directed to a spot so well calculated to create and cherish sentiments congenial with the state of our mind. But then comes an antiquarian, with his odious doubts, to disturb the pleasing source of our enjoyment; and, from the fair and delightful regions of fancy, conveys us in a moment to a dark, barren, and comfortless desart;—he doubts whether this be the real place where the ashes of Virgil were deposited; and tells us an unsatisfactory story about the other side of the bay; and that he is rather inclined to believe, the poet was buried somewhere there, without determining any particular spot. Would to Heaven, that these doubters would keep their minds to themselves, and not ruffle the tranquillity of true believers!

But after all, why should not this be the real tomb of Virgil? Why should these enthusiasts, who delight in pilgrimage to this spot, be deprived of that pleasure? Why should the poet's ghost be allowed to wander along the dreary banks of the Styx, till antiquarians erect a cenotaph to his memory? Even they acknowledge he was buried in this bay, and near Naples; and tradition has fixed on this spot, which, exclusive of every other presumption, is a much stronger evidence in its favour, than their vague conjectures against it.

Of the ancient monuments at Naples the most entire, and unquestionably the most curious, is Virgil's tomb, says Grosley. This monument, which by Misson and Montfaucon, is represented as a pyramid almost ruined, is a lanthorn or turret, about twenty feet high, on open arcades; the solid parts of which were formerly adorned with pillars. This structure stands on a platform, cut in the Eastern side of the hill of Pausilippo, in sight of the two bays of Naples; the harbour, the castles, part of the city lengthways, and fronting Mount Vesuvius. Unquestionably, it was, in order to make it so conspicuous, that its elevation so much exceeds the proportion of its base. It commands the entrance of the favourite grotto; and, by the excavations daily carrying on in this part of the mountain, commands it so, that at present it is scarce two feet from the brink of a precipice, a hundred and eighty feet deep; and, if these excavations be continued, they must certainly undermine this valuable monument.

On the external surface of the cupola, in which it terminates, is a prodigy much celebrated by the Italian poets; I mean its being exactly crowned with a laurel, though the only nourishment the tree receives is, what its roots meet with in the joining of the stones. All travellers are sure to have a pluck at this tree, which they do by means of a rope, with a stone at the end of it. You may be sure, says Lady Millar, in her description of this celebrated tomb, "I am possessed of some of the leaves of this sacred tree; how happy should I be, if drinking a decoction of them, would inspire me with Virgilian poesy! The side of the mountain where the tomb stands, instead of any trees of this kind, is covered with yews and firs. Virgil's laurel, however, recruits its daily losses, and perpetuates itself with renovating vigour. In the sixteenth century, there was only one stem which stood in the centre of the cupola, where we will suppose it to have been planted by some Neapolitan, a warm admirer of Virgil. About the beginning of the last century, a fir blown by the wind, from a collateral foot of the mountain, fell with its top on the stem thus choaking it; but nature herself repaired the accident, setting, as layers, the compressed ramifications of the root, which now have spread over the cupola's whole surface.

Beautiful points of view offer themselves every step in ascending this mountain; the summit of which is covered with villas and gardens, planted with evergreens, belonging to several noble families at Naples. Further on, towards the North, is the convent of the Camaldoli, from which there is a most sublime sea-view, and a most beautiful land-one. Hence you may go through forests of chesnuts, opening sometimes to noble views, till you reach the glacis of the castle of St. Elmo; where the whole city and suburbs appear in one collective picture. The Carthusian convent, adjoining to the castle, is, perhaps, the best situated monastery in Europe.

On this mountain, in the Villa Mazza, are the remains of Pollio's fish-ponds, so often mentioned in the works of ancient writers; the expence he was at in embellishing them, the extravagant passion he had for his fish, which, by care and feeding, grew to a remarkable size; the cruel food with which he supplied them, and the rebuke he met with from Augustus, in whose presence he bad ordered a slave to be thrown into the pond, for a trivial offence; are circumstances that have rendered these reservoirs famous.

Puzzuoli is situated about seven miles from Naples. It had its ancient name, Puteoli, either from a sulphureous stench, or from the great number of putéi, or holes, which are made here, on account of the sulphur works, and by digging for sand; which in ancient times was found very serviceable for building, especially under water. Quis enim satis miretur, says Pliny, pessimam ejus terroe partem ideoque pulverem appellatam in Puteolaris, collibus opponi maris fluctibus, mersumque protinus fieri lapidem inexpugnabilem undis, & fortiorem quotidie, utique si Cumano misceretur coemento: i. e. "Who can sufficiently admire, that the worst part of the soil, in the mountains of Puteoli, which is called dust, or sand, should be made into a bulwark against the sea; and, when sunk under water, should soon become a stone, impregnable by the waves, and every day grow stronger; especially if it is mixed with Cumaean cement." It is asserted, by some authors, that this city was founded five hundred and twenty-two years before the Christian Aera, by one Decius, son of Neptune; and, according to others, by some one else. It is most agreeably situated on the margin of a small bay; and the great quantity of beautiful stones, and gems cast up by the sea, is a sufficient proof of its former splendor and magnificence. The greatest part of these stones, are of a blue, or a red cast, with several pieces of Verde antico, porphyry, &c. and seem to have been used in Mosaic work; there are frequently found agate, cornelian, amethyst, jasper, onyx, beryl, lapis lazuli, &c. and many of them cameos, and intaglios.

On every hill, and vale of the environs, appear the ruins of extensive villas, once embellished with all the elegancies of combined arts; now traced only by half buried, mouldering walls, and some marble fragments; left, as it were, to vouch for the taste and costliness with which they were constructed. In the last period of the commonwealth, and during the gaudy aera of the Coesars, almost every person, of exalted rank, had a house in this country, which the sagacious antiquaries of Puzzuoli point out to you, without doubt or hesitation.

The town of Puzzuoli, and its environs, says Moore, presents such a number of objects worthy of the attention of the antiquarian, the natural philosopher, and the classic scholar; that to describe all, with the minuteness they deserve, would fill volumes. The cathedral, now under the protection of St. Januarius, and St. Proculus, was formerly a temple, dedicated to Augustus.

It is built of large stones, without cement. No more of the ancient temple remains, than some Corinthian columns, with their capitals, and part of the entablature, of Parian marble, and beautiful workmanship, in one of the side-walls of the cathedral.

The temple of Jupiter Serapis, in this city, is accounted a very interesting monument of antiquity; being quite different from the Roman and Greek temples, and built in the manner of the Asiatics; probably by the Egyptian and Asiatic merchants, who settled here; this place having been the great emporium of Italy, until the Romans built Ostia and Antium. The ruins of this temple are in the finest preservation of any round Naples. It was originally encompassed by forty-two square rooms, which are now almost reduced to ruins; yet still some columns of beautiful white marble are to be seen, fluted, and highly finished. The whole was paved with large slabs of marble, and the edifice completely encrusted with the same. It is curious to see the massy rings fixed in the pavement, to which the victims were fastened, and the copper pipes, or drains, to convey away their blood: here is a pierced square of marble, of exquisite workmanship, which served as a drain stone; for it is placed in the center of a quadrangular part of the temple, precisely under the open part of the roof, in order to receive and carry off the rain water, which entered at the opening. Half of its buildings are still buried under the earth, thrown upon it by volcanic commotions, or accumulated by the crumblings of the hill.

The enclosure is square, says Swinburne, environed with buildings for priests, and baths for votaries: in the center remains a circular platform, with four flights of steps up to it; vases for fire, a centrical altar, rings for victims, and other appendages of sacrifice entire and not displaced; sixteen columns of African marble, that sustained the roof and the statues, have been removed to the new palace at Caserta, the pedestals of the statues only remaining.

In that part of the town, called la Piazza, is placed a square pedestal of white marble, found in the year 1690. Each side has a bas-relief. Although they are much injured, we may distinguish fourteen figures, by which are represented so many cities of Asia-Minor. The pedestal is inscribed to Tiberius, and probably a statue of him had been placed upon it; erected, according to the opinion of some learned men, by these fourteen cities that were near being entirely demolished by an earthquake, in his reign, to whom he had sent very liberal supplies. It is esteemed a most beautiful bas-relief, and a work of excellent taste.

The ruins of its ancient edifices, are widely spread along the adjacent hills and shores. An amphitheatre still exists, entire in most of its parts. It is said to have stood formerly within the walls of the city, but is now near a mile distant from it. This is a proof of the great decay of the town, from its former extent and splendor. The arena, which is now a garden, is two hundred and fifty feet long; the porticos of entrance, which were below the steps, or seats, for the spectators, and the dens for wild beasts, with a stone trough in each, to hold water for them, are still to be seen. Here, it is said, St. Januarius and his companions were thrown, to be devoured by wild beasts; but the latter were, it seems, not wanting in respect due to such holy personages, and never offered to lay a paw on them. At the entrance of St. Januarius's prison, now converted into a chapel, is an inscription, signifying, that it was consecrated by the bishop of Puzzuoli, in 1689; and promising an indulgence of forty days, to those who devoutly visit that sacred spot in this amphitheatre. Suetonius says, Augustus assisted in person at the games celebrated here.

There is a curious antiquity here, called the labyrinth of Dedalus; it is near the amphitheatre, but, by the learned, supposed to have been a reservoir to serve the city of Puzzuoli with water. To every one of these apartments there are four doors, which makes the place extremely intricate. A little further is an arched vault, supported by eleven pillars, incrusted with tartar; and, at present, it is a winec-ellar. This, likewise, seems to have been a reservoir. Half a league from Puzzuoli, are the columbarias, or tombs, the descent into which is by ladders. There is nothing very curious in these repositories of the dead; they are of a simple structure, with small niches, in which urns, filled with the ashes of the family, were deposited.

This town is chiefly inhabited by fishermen; their children run after strangers with plates full of mosaic pieces, of various colours; amongst which may frequently be found medals, intaglios, and engravings on gems; these the sea throw upon the beach, and are purchased for a trifle. Some of them are genuine, but many are false; and these mock antiquities are frequently imposed on ignorant strangers; which are no more than the refuse of lapidaries shops, procured from Naples; but, whoever has a little intelligence in these matters, cannot easily be deceived.

The ruins of Cicero's villa, near this city, are of such extent, as to give a high idea of the wealth of this great orator. Had fortune, says Moore, always bestowed her gifts with so much propriety, she never would have been accused of blindness. Neither this villa, nor that at Tusculum, nor any of his country-seats, were the scenes of idleness or riot. They are distinguished by the names of the works he composed in them; works which have always been the delight of the learned; and which, still more than the important services he rendered his country, have contributed to immortalize his name.

Here it was he wrote both the books, intitled Quoestionum Academicarum. The ruins of this famous academia of Cicero, says Lady Millar, are a mile and a quarter round; but this immense building is now so demolished, there is no possibility of ascertaining its regular plan; though we took the trouble of walking, or rather stumbling over the rubbish, through a number of rooms, we could not find one that could be termed a large one, in a modern English house. Some of the pavement still remains, composed of small dies of white marble, forming a mosaic pattern; most of the rooms were vaulted, and many of the arches still remain entire.

It is evident that the sea has covered the greatest part of this building, as considerable vestiges, which plainly appear to have been part of the structure, are discernable at low water: this is highly probable, for an additional reason; the academia was so close to the sea, as to admit Cicero's guests to have amused themselves by fishing from his windows.

The mole of the harbour of Puzzuoli, is a stupendous work. There are now fourteen piles remaining, built with a sort of stone called Piperno, and faced with brick; these piles are connected by half-ruined arches. The common people usually call it, Il ponte di Caligula, as if it were the ruins of the bridge built by that emperor, from Puzzuoli to Baiae. This error, Suetonius's life of that emperor very satisfactorily Confutes, where he says, that what Caligula built, was no more than a bridge of boats, covered with earth, and reaching from Baiae to the Puzzuoli mole; so that the piers are not only plainly distinguished from the moveable bridge of Caligula, but he has likewise called it by the name of moles, which is even now applied to any congeries of rocks, or stone, that serves for the security of an harbour. That the pilasters in the sea, before Puzzuoli, did not belong to a bridge, is likewise further apparent, from their not being placed in a strait line, but forming a curve towards the North.

The sea, about Puzzuoli, abounds in fish, especially of the testaceous kind. Here is also a fish called Cavallo Marino, which is not quite an inch in length, and is generally dried for keeping. The head of this little fish very much resembles that of a horse: it is often bruised with vinegar and honey, and applied, by way of plaister, to the part bitten by a mad dog. This species of fish is also found on the other side of Italy, along the coasts of the Adriatic.

The purple dye of this place was in such esteem, among the ancient Romans, as to be said to have rivalled that of Tyre; it is the blood taken from the vein in the shell-fish, probably the perriwinkle, and of which there is so small a quantity, as not to exceed one drop in each fish.

Sylla having abdicated the dictatorship, is said to have retired, and passed the remainder of his days in this city.

CHAP. VI. The same Subject continued.

PURSUING the path towards Naples, says Swinburne, in his description of the environs, I arrived at a convent of Capuchin Friars, which commands so fine a prospect, that many painters have chosen it as a station for delineating the bay. Saint Januarius is supposed to have completed his martyrdom on this spot, by the axe, after facing the wild beasts with impunity. He was bishop of Beneventum, in the third century; but did not supersede Saint Asprenius, in the patronage of Naples, till eleven hundred years after his death.

The cistern that contains water for the use of this convent, is a bason, supported solely by one column; it was thus contrived, clear of all contact with the walls of the cellar, from a discovery being made, that poisonous vapours transpired through the ground, and contaminated the water in the common reservoirs.

The bay, between Puzzuoli and Baiae, is about three miles in breadth. In the circuit of this bay lies Monte Barbara, anciently Mons Gaurus, the favourite of Bacchus; undoubtedly of volcanic origin, though beyond the records of history. It was this mountain, which is now one of the most barren spots round Naples, that was formerly so celebrated for its Falernian wine. The common people have a notion, that immense treasures lie buried in it, guarded by evil spirits.

Directly opposite to Il Monte Barbaro, towards the West, lies Il Monte Nuovo, or the new mountain, which rose instantaneously in the night of the nineteenth of September, 1538, during an earthquake, which caused a terrible devastation in the neighbourhood. "It may seem still more wonderful," says Gassendi in his physics, "that not only mountains shoot up in the continent, but even islands in the middle of the sea. As to mountains, nothing can be more notorious than that of Puzzuoli, which was, in one night, formed by a congeries of pumice stones and ashes, to the height of above a thousand paces."

Though this alteration happened at the time of an earthquake, it was not caused by it; earthquakes, indeed, often overturn mountains, but never produce any; to do this, the irruption of a volcano is required. Swinburne, in his description of this phenomenon, says, in 1538, after previous notice by repeated quakings, the convulsed earth burst asunder, and made way for a deluge of hot ashes and flames; which, being shot up to an immense height into the darkened atm•sphere, fell down again all round, and formed: circular mound, four miles in circumference, and one thousand feet high, with a large cup in the middle. Immediately after the explosion, the wind rose furiously, and wasted the lighter particles over the country, burning and blasting all vegetation in its progress: wherever these ashes, impregnated with poison, adhered to the grass, death became the lot of all beasts that broused upon it. The terrors occasioned by this shock, threatened the abandonment of the whole district; scarcely a family durst remain even within sight of this horrid heap; which had overwhelmed a large town, filled up a lake, and buried under it a very extensive tract of cultivated lands.

Part of this mountain is cultivated; but the larger portion of its declivity is widely overgrown with prickly broom, and rank weeds, that emit a very foetid, sulphureous smell, The crater is shallow its inside clad with shrubs, and the little area at the bottom planted with fig and mulberry-trees; a most striking specimen of the amazing vicissitudes that take place in this extraordinary country. Near the foot of this mountain, the subterraneous fires act with such immediate power, that even the sand, at the bottom of the sea, is heated to an intolerable degree.

A long neck of land prevents the waves from washing, into a sedgy pool, the poor remnants of the Lucrine lake; once so renowned for the abundance and flavour of its shell-fish, of which large beds lined the shallows; while a deep channel in the middle afforded riding and anchoring for vessels, and a passage into the inner bason of Lake Avernus. A small canal now serves to discharge the superabundant waters. I suppose, says Swinburne, that originally the Lucrine lake was only a marsh overflowed by the sea, till Hercules gave it extent and depth, by raising a mound across, and damming out the salt-water; and afterwards, that Augustus formed the Julian port, by raising this wear to a sufficient level, and thereby procuring depth of water for a navy to float in. Virgil, in his praises of Augustus, says,

An memorem portus, Lucrinoque addita claustra:

Atque indignantem magnis stridoribus aequor,

Julia qua ponto longe sonat unda refuso,

Tyrrhenisque fretis immittitur cestus Avernis?

Virg. Geo. lib. ii. v. 161.

"Or shall I praise thy ports, or mention make,

Of the vast mound that binds the Lucrine lake,

Or the disdainful sea that shut from thence,

Roars round the structure and invades the fence?

There, where secure the Julian waters glide,

Or, where Avernus' jaws admit the Tyrrhene tide."

DRYDEN.

Sergius Orata, says Pliny, primus optimum saporem ostreis Lucrinis adjudicavit. "Sergius Orata was the first who distinguished the delicate flavour of the oysters of the Lucrine lake." Non me Lucrina juverint conchylia! "Not Lucrine oysters would my palate please," says Horace in one of his odes.

It was in this lake, according to the testimony of Solinus, and other ancient writers, that there was in Augustus's time, a dolphin made so tame by a boy, that he would sit upon him, and cross the lake on his back, from Baiae to Puzzuoli.

Lake Avernus lies about half a mile distant, on the left-hand, in the road to Cuma. This lake, like the mountain Gaurus, is exceedingly altered, but much for the better. According to ancient historians, no fish could live in it; and its noxious vapours ascended to such a height, that birds flying over it dropt down dead. Lucretius in his sixth book speaks thus of it:

"Next of Averno sung, and whence the name,

And whence the rage and hurtful nature came;

So called, because the birds that cut the sky,

If o'er those plains they but chance to fly,

By noxious streams oppress'd, fall down and die."

CREECH's Translation.

The noxious quality attributed to this lake, and the sulphureous exhalations so fatal to birds, who should attempt to fly over it, are likewise particularly mentioned in the sixth book of Virgil. This lake is at present stocked with variety of good fish, and the birds not only fly over it unhurt, but wild ducks, and other aquatic fowls are to be seen upon it; and the adjacent vineyards produce a very good sort of wine. Servius (ad Aenead iii. v. 442.) ascribes the noxious air about this lake, in ancient times, to the thick and lofty woods that then surrounded it, which hindered the dispersion of the effluvia; adding, that Augustus, having ordered the wood to be cut down and extirpated, the country soon put on a chearful appearance.

Swinburne, in his description of this lake, tells us that the landscape, though confined, is extremely pleasing; the dark blue surface of these unruffled waters, said to be three hundred and sixty feet deep, strongly reflects the tapering groves, that cover its sloping inclosure, of about only half a mile in diameter: shoals of wild fowl swim about, and king-fishers shoot along under the banks; a large octagon temple, in ruins, advances majestically to the brink; its marble ornaments have long been removed, but its form and size render it a noble object. It was, probably, dedicated to the infernal gods, to whose worship these solemn shades were formerly consecrated. Black aged groves then stretched their boughs over the watery abyss, and, with impenetrable foliage, excluded almost every ray of wholesome light; mephitic vapours, ascending from the hot bowels of the earth, being denied free passage to the upper atmosphere, floated along the surface in poisoned mists. These circumstances produced horrors fit for such gloomy deities; a colony of Cimmerians, as well suited to the rites as to the place itself, cut dwellings in the bosoms of the surrounding hills, and officiated as priests of Tartarus. Superstition, always delighting in dark ideas, eagerly seized on this spot, and hither she led her trembling votaries, to celebrate her dismal orgies; here she evoked the manes of departed heroes—here she offered sacrifices to the gods of hell, and attempted to dive into the secrets of futurity. Poets enlarged upon the popular theme, and painted its awful scenery with the strongest colours of their art. Homer brings Ulysses to Avernus, as to the mouth of the infernal abodes; and, in imitation of the Grecian bard, Virgil conducts his hero to the same ground. The holiness of these shades remained unimpeached for many ages: Hannibal marched his army to offer incense at this altar.

After a long reign of undisturbed gloom and celebrity, a sudden glare of light was let in upon Avernus: the horrors were dispelled, and with them vanished the sanctity of the lake; the axe of Agrippa brought its forest to the ground, disturbed its sleepy waters with ships, and gave room for all its malignant effluvia to escape. Modern writers, says Swinburne, charge ancient authors with exaggeration, in describing the virulence of its exhalations; but I think them entitled to more respect, for even now the air is feverish and dangerous; as the jaundiced faces of the vine-dressers, who have succeeded the Sybils, and the Cimmerians in possession of the temple, most ruefully testify.

Boccacio relates, that during his residence at the Neapolitan court, the surface of this lake was suddenly covered with dead fish, black and singed, as if killed by some subaqueous eruption of fire. At present it abounds with tench; the Locrine with eels. The change of fortune, in these lakes, is singular: in the splendid days of Imperial Rome, the Lucrine was the chosen spot for the parties of pleasure of a voluptuous court; they are described by Seneca, as the highest refinement of extravagance and luxury; now a slimy bed of rushes covers the scatered ponds of this once beautiful sheet of water; and the dusky Avernus is now clear and serene; offering a most alluring surface and charming scenes for similar amusements.

Opposite the temple, says Swinburne, I entered a cave, usually stiled the Sybils Grotto; it seems more likely to have been the mouth of a communication, between Cuma and Avernus, than the abode of a prophetess; especially as the sybil is positively said by historians, to have dwelt in a cavern under the Cumaean citadel. A most acute and indefatigable unraveller of antiquarian clews, thinks it was part of the canal that Nero projected from the mouth of the Tiber, to the Julian port.

The entrance to the cave of the sybil, as it is commonly called, is about three yards wide, near five feet high, and two hundred and twenty, or two hundred and thirty yards to the end: here is a narrow way, descending to two small cells, where there are baths. From the largest of these, they say, there is a corridore, or passage, ending in an outlet, now made up with bricks; and that there is a third cell, with a winding staircase, leading from it to the top of the mountain, but now stopped up by dirt.

Northall notices only one room. After advancing about two hundred paces, there is a passage which leads to some baths, where the second grotto is. It is a little room, about fourteen feet long, and eight broad, and of a height proportionable. On the walls are some small remains of gilding, and mosaic work: but it seems very mysterious, how the sybil could live in so confined a place.

Keysler, likewise, who seems to have visited this supposed residence of the sybil, notices only one apartment, at the extremity of the passage; in which, says he, there is a kind of stone trough; by some antiquarians imagined to be the sybil's bath; and, by others, her bed: on the walls are several figures, made of small stones, and shells of different colours, curiously arranged. The pavement is also a mosaic work, but cannot be seen distinctly, as it is covered with water. Here, says Keysler, the Lago Averno is twenty-five fathoms deep, and almost entirely surrounded with a rising ground; so that a canal of communication with the sea, which need not be above the length of half an Italian mile, would make it one of the most commodious harbours in the universe.

On the side of the Lucrine lake, towards the sea, is a hill, with a deep rent on its summit; which the poor illiterate people are taught to believe, was made at our Saviour's crucifixion; and that it was the passage through which he descended into the Limbus patrum, in order to release the Patriarchs; and to this superstitious notion, the mountain owes the name of Il monte di Christo.

Between Averno, and the city of Cuma, is to be seen part of the Via Appia, where two hills are joined by means of a noble arch, called Arco Felice, built with large bricks; its height is seventy, and its breadth fifty-five feet: the passage under it is twenty feet four inches. It is supposed, says Martyn, but without any probability, to have been a gate of the city of Cuma.

From this high ground, there is a view of the dreary, flat shore of Patria, where, on the edge of a large pond, are some heaps of stones, the ruins of Liternum. Hither P. Cornelius Scipio Africanus, withdrew from the accusations of his enemies, and spent his latter days in philosophical retirement: by this voluntary exile, he preserved his person from indignity, without being indebted for his safety to a dispensation of any positive, though unjust law of his country. Seneca mentions having slept in the villa, which two hundred years before had been the asylum of that hero: he describes it as a substantial building, in a garden, surrounded with high walls, and flanked with towers, to defend it against a sudden attack; in it was a cistern, capable of containing water enough for an army to drink; and, for the private use of the master, a small gloomy bath, after the simple fashion of those times. This shore was, probably, less unwholesome, when Scipio lived here, than it is in its present uncultivated state, overflowed with foetid pools of brackish water.

If tradition can be relied on, Scipio's ashes were deposited here, and the word Patria still remaining fixed in the wall of a watch-tower, and giving name to the adjacent lake, is a fragment of his angry epitaph: ingrata neque enim mea ossa habebis. "Ungrateful country, you shall not even have my bones." It is at least certain, that no urn, or monumental inscription, belonging to this illustrious member of the family, has been found in the sepulchre of the Scipios, lately discovered at Rome.

From hence, says Swinburne, we rowed about six miles Eastward, to the insulated rock, on which stood the citadel of Cuma, (the first city founded in Italy by Grecian emigrants) once the seat of commerce, the parent of Naples, and the capital of a state that ruled the seas, before either Rome or Carthage were heard of: its prosperity was of long continuance, while yet the power of infant Rome remained crampt within the narrow limits of her own plains. Under the sway of Aristodemus, Cuma afforded an asylum to Tarquin the proud, the deposed king of Rome.

As Rome advanced in her fortunate career, the glory of all her neighbouring powers faded away before her; the Cumaeans, in their turn, submitted to the yoke, and were treated with lenity; but real liberty was gone, and the trade abandoned her shores. The Goths reduced it still lower; and at last, being merely a receptacle for thieves, it was in 1207, totally ruined and forsaken.

This rocky hill is the produce of an eruption, and hollowed into many spacious caverns; amongst which we look, in vain, for the grotto, where the Cumaean sybil pronounced her oracles; that sanctuary was destroyed in the Gothic war. Agathias informs us, that it was scooped into the form of a temple; the roof of which served as a foundation for one of the principal towers of the fortress. The hermitage of Warkworth, in Northumberland, says Swinburne, celebrated by the pen of Dr. Percy, may serve to give an idea of this sybilline grotto. When Narses invested the citadel, he caused this rocky cover to be cut through in several directions, and then propped up with beams; as soon as every thing was in readiness for the assault, the wood was set on fire. Upon the props being consumed, the rocks gave way, and brought the walls down headlong with them into the temple; and, on these accumulated ruins, the Imperial troops entered the breach.

Between Cuma and Misenum, lies the lake Acheron or Palus Acherusia, so well known among the ancients; and, from its black water, is by Virgil termed tenebrosa palus, "the gloomy lake." For the increase of its fishery, a canal has been made from the main sea into this lake, by which means the waters of it have been much mended, and rendered fitter for fish to live in. Most of the fishermen live upon a little island in the middle of the lake; but the fish they catch, are chiefly eels and barbles. At present it is called Lago di Fusaro. Here, says Swinburne, my conductors shewed me the ruins of the tomb of Caius Marius. As I am apt to believe that popular tales have always some foundation, however feeble to rest upon; I think it probable, that the ashes of a Roman of that name were deposited here; but it cannot be those of the famous Consul; because Sylla caused his remains to be taken out of the tomb and scattered to the wind.

In these parts, as our antiquarians tell us, Servilius Vatia had a seat, to which he retired under the tyrannical reign of Tiberius. Vatia, on account of the retreat he had chosen, was cried up as the happiest of the Romans; so that it was a common saying, O Vatia solus scis vivere: "O Vatia, you alone know how to live." But Seneca seems to have been of a different opinion; for, in his fifty-fifth epistle, he says, ille latere sciebat non vivere—Nunquam aliter hanc villam Vatiâ vivo proeteribam, quam ut dicerem. Vatia hic situs est. "He knew how to secrete himself, not how to enjoy life.—Nor did I ever pass his house, without saying, Vatia lies there."

Just below the above lake is the Mare morto. The ancients pretend that dead bodies were carried over this lake, from Misenum to the Elysian fields. It is a double pool, says Swinburne, of which the outer division is open to the sea; the inner one, occasionally shut up for the purpose of fishing. A slip of sand divides it from the channel of Procida; and, at the extremity, rises the solitary, shelving promontory of Miseno; the ruins of a city of that name are scattered at its foot; and the remains of a theatre very apparent. A fine fragment of marble cornice is still left, to bear testimony of the elegance with which it was decorated, in the richest luxuriance of the composite order.

Miseno is said to derive its name from a companion of Aeneas, who was buried here, according to Virgil.

At pius Aeneas ingenti mole sepulchrum

Imponit, suaque arma viro, remumque tutamque,

Monte sub aeria, qui nunc Misenus ab illo

Dicitur, oeternumque tenet per soecula nomen.

"But good Aeneas ordered on the shore

A stately tomb, whose top a trumpet bore,

A soldiers faulchion, and a seaman's oar.

Thus was his friend interred, and deathless fame,

Still to the lofty cape consigns his name."

DRYDEN.

On this peninsula, a villa was built by Caius Marius, with a degree of elegance, that gave great offence to the most austere among the Romans, who thought it ill suited to the character of so rough a soldier. Upon the same foundation, Lucullus, the plunderer of the Eastern world, erected an edifice; in comparison of which, the former house was a cottage; but even his magnificence was eclipsed by the splendor of the palace, which the emperors raised on the same spot. To these proud abodes of heroes, and monarchs, which have long been levelled to the ground, a few fishing huts, and a lonely public-house have succeeded; hither boatmen resort to tipple, perhaps on the identical site, where the voluptuous masters of the world quaffed Chian and Valernian wine.

Near this spot is the Piscina Mirabilis; it is a subterraneous cistern, divided into alleys, by rows of square pillars, from which springs an arched roof; the incrustation, formed anciently upon the plaistered walls, by the sediment of the water; is now so strong an alabaster, as almost to defy the pick-axe; and so thick and compact, as to be susceptible of a very fine polish.

It is much disputed by whom this reservoir was built. Some attribute it to Lucullus; others are of opinion that Agrippa had it made, for the convenience of the fleet, or for watering the gardens; and the chambers near it, says Keysler, called cento camerelle, seem to have been designed for the same purpose.

The channel, where the fleet of Agrippa moored, has now but one craggy cobble, stationed to ferry over passengers. I crossed it, says Swinburne, to the Elysian fields; which are bounded on the North side by a small eminence, covered with vine-bearing trees; the face of the bank is hollowed into numberless caves, and places of sepulture; and an ancient way leads from the ferry towards Capua, between rows of monumental buildings; which by an unusual permutation of property, from being filled with the ashes of the dead, are now occupied by living peasants. The cause of this road, and its environs, being so uncommonly crouded with tombs, exists in the superstitious creed of the Pagans, who held inhumation necessary to salvation; and a grave, the only door through which a soul could pass to a future state of bliss. According to the spirit of this tenet, neither the inhabitant who died peaceably in his bed at Misenum, nor the mariner, who met his fate in battle, or in shipwreck, was suffered by his friends to remain without the honours of a tomb: to every person, even of moderate rank, a suitable mausoleum was erected, to procure for his departed soul, free ingress into the Elysian shades. These circumstances coincide, admirably, with the fables and traditions handed down, concerning this country, from a very early period. Homer brings Ulysses hither, and here he fixes the scene of his Stygian machinery; thus the Mare morto passed for Acheron, and the adjoining fields for the vale of Elysium, to which the dead were wafted in the boat of Charon. This was literally true, with regard to such persons as died at Misenum.

Off this promontory lie the islands Ischia and Procida; well worthy the trouble of a visit, says Martyn, from any curious traveller: the former of these, for richness of soil, abundance of products, and beauty of situation, may vie with the most celebrated spots on the globe: these advantages have drawn many settlers to its shores, and added eight thousand inhabitants to its lists, in the last thirty years.

The ancients believed Ischia to have been raised out of the bosom of the deep, by the force of central fires: the Chalcydians were the first adventurers, that dared to set foot on this igneous soil, and were amply repaid for their riches, by the immense wealth they drew from the settlement: however, continual earthquakes and eruptions, forced them to abandon the place. Hiero, king of Syracuse, who was indefatigable, in advancing the commercial interests of his dominions, sent a colony to this island; but the emoluments falling short of his expectations, he soon withdrew his people; since that epoch, Ischia has usually obeyed the masters of the adjacent continent. All Ischia is of fiery origin; but its North-west angle is more disturbed, and more overturned by eruptions, than any other part of it. On this side of the island are some vapour-baths, erected on a neck of land, strongly impregnated with sulphur, and other minerals, the usual concomitants of volcanos.

At the distance of a mile, south of these sudatories, is the town of Foria, inhabited by an industrious people; they employ a considerable number of small vessels, in the carriage of their fruit and wines; but, the want of a harbour, exposes them to great losses in stormy weather. The houses of this burgh are solidly built; but the streets are almost too narrow for an ass, with a pair of panniers. The environs are extremely fertile; the young women, says Swinburne, I met coming down the mountain, with baskets of figs upon their heads, were tall and handsome; their features regularly fine, their eyes sparkling, their shape and gait light and airy beyond expression.

On the declivity of the central mountain of the island, is a crater; circular, shallow, and embanked with a vast mound of cinders; it is full of lava, twisted and curled, as if, while in a fluid state, it had been stirred round with a stick. No vegetation has as yet taken place on these substances, though they have been exposed to the air since the year 1301. The eruption lasted near two months, and caused such devastation in the human and animal species, by the malignity of its vapours, and poisonous qualities of its ashes, that whoever could escape, fled from this land of horror. I arrived at the summit of this mountain, adds Swinburne, just as the sun had extricated his orb out of a mass of heavy vapours, that still hung upon the Appennine: as his rays diverged, the fogs that floated on the sea vanished, and a view rose gradually to the sight, of which so weak a pencil as mine, can never give an adequate idea. As the magnificent view from Mount Epomeo, seems the most interesting object of curiosity in the island, we shall proceed with our author's description of it. The distant part of the picture, says Swinburne, displayed the most admirable marine, and terrestrial scenery, while the foreground exhibited the richness of a fertile, populous island. This vast expanse, of sea and land, lay unfolded before me like a chart; on which every object was marked with precision.

The pinnacle of Epomeo, is a white rock of tufa, in the heart of which is hewn a church, cells, galleries, and other conveniences for seven hermits, under the patronage of St. Nicholas. These recluses subsist upon alms, collected thrice a week about the island, while the season permits; but, during some months of the year, the snow lies so deep in this peak, as to shut them out from all communication with mankind. They have some plots of garden; but seem to exert themselves little in the culture, or the improvement of them; the cells are dirty, and their inhabitants appear to have no turn for study, or mechanics; their prior is a Frenchman, who, twenty years ago, was governor of Ischia, till moved with compunction, for the sins of his military life, and despairing of purity of conscience in the soul atmosphere below, he became an anchoret in this exalted region; he has been twelve years confined to his truckle-bed by the gout; but retains a fresh florid complexion, and tolerable spirits. The passage to the cells is contrived to wind through the rock, so as to admit views of almost every part of the island; towards the South, the declivity is very gradual to the sea, and cloathed in the richest garb of vegetative nature; the North side of the mountain is more abrupt and destitute of verdure; at the foot of its tremendous point lies a circular bason; from whence, in former times, issued flames and fiery torrents that overwhelmed the country; but its operations have ceased, during such an immense series of years, that the borders are tumbled in, and almost every distinctive feature of a crater obliterated.

Procida, anciently Prochyta, which lies between the cape of Misenum and Ischia, about two miles distant from each, is a small island about six miles in circumference. The earliest writers of history speak of Procida, as land torn from the continent by the violence of earthquakes, and fiery commotions. The upper part of the cliffs of this island, in which many spacious caverns have been worn by the waves, or left empty in the convulsive boilings, that raised the island above the waters, is a tufa stone of various hues, brown, white, yellow, and purple. The King's palace, which he sometimes visits for the sake of shooting, stands on the point of this excavated promontory.

This island gave birth to, or was, at least, the property of John of Procida, a man of great fame in the annals of the thirteenth century. Though rich, and nobly born, this extraordinary person did not disdain the practice of physic; but improved a strong natural genius, by every help the scanty knowledge of the age afforded. The great features of his character were sagacity, activity, daringness, and perseverance; with these qualities he undertook to avenge his countrymen of the Provencals; who, under Charles of Anjou, had reduced both Sicilies to slavery, and destroyed the house of Suabia. This plan for destroying the French being settled, he insinuated himself into the private meetings of the Sicilians; and, by incendiary discourses, fed the fire of discontent, till he saw the proper moment for blowing it up into a flame: at his nod, though, perhaps, the crisis was hastened by some accidental outrages, all Sicily rose in arms at the fatal sound of the evening bell, known by the name of the Sicilian vespers; and almost every Frenchman perished.

The fishing, of this little island, brings in a handsome profit, owing to the extraordinary expertness of the Neapolitan divers. I have frequently known their stay under water, says Swinburne, to exceed two minutes, and have been assured, that some can, and do remain longer. Their common method of taking oysters, sea-urchins, and other shell-fish, is, to plunge in, head foremost, amongst the rocks; and with a strong knife, wrench the shells off the stones to which they adhere; then, rising to the surface, throw their booty into a floating basket tied to their foot: but the violence of the exertion, and the pressure of the water, weaken their lungs, and shorten their lives; few reach the age of thirty years. When they go in search of the razor-fish, called in Neapolitan cannolicchi, they walk up to their shins in the sea, backwards and forwards, with the greatest gravity and attention; moving their feet sideways along the sand, till they feel the sharp edge of a razor-shell, then they dart down with amazing rapidity, and seize their prey. From this stately deportment, comes the local proverbial expression, of a person walking about in a brown study; he is fishing for cannolicchi.

In the center of the gulph, of which this fragment of Cape Misenum makes the extreme Western point, are the mutilated remnants of Baiae, that elegant resort of the gay masters of the world. The hot springs, and medicinal vapours that abound in its environs, must very early have excited the attention of valetudinarians; as bathing was the constant solace of the Greeks while in health, and their remedy when diseased: but Baiae does not seem to have attained a degree of celebrity superior to that of other baths, till the Roman commonwealth began to be in the wane. As soon as the plunder of a conquered world was transferred, from works of public use and ornament, to objects of private luxury; the transcendent advantages, which Baiae offered to Roman voluptuaries, flying from the capital in search of health and pleasure, were attended to with enthusiasm: the variety of its natural baths, the softness of its climate, and the beauties of its landscape, captivated the minds of opulent nobles, whose passion for bathing knew no bounds; abundance of linen, and disuse of ointments, render the practice less necessary in modern life; but the ancients performed no exercise, engaged in no study, without previous ablutions, which at Rome required an enormous expence in aqueducts, stones, and and attendants: a place, therefore, where waters naturally heated to every degree of warmth, bubbled spontaneously out of the ground, in the pleasantest of all situations, was such a treasure, as could not be overlooked. Hither, at first, retired for a temporary relaxation, the mighty rulers of the empire, to string anew their nerves, and revive their spirits, fatigued with bloody campaigns and civil contests. Their habitations were small and modest; but, soon, increasing luxury added palace to palace; so that ground was wanting for the vast demand. Enterprising architects, supported by infinite wealth, carried their foundations into the sea, and drove that element back from its limits; it has since taken ample revenge, and recovered much more than it ever lost.

From being a place of resort, for a season, Baiae now grew up to a permanent city; whoever found himself disqualified by age, or infirmity, for sustaining any longer an active part on the political theatre; whoever, from an indolent disposition, sought a place, where the pleasures of the town were combined with the sweets of a rural life; whoever wished to withdraw from the dangerous neighbourhood of a court, and the baneful eye of informers, flocked hither, to enjoy life, untainted with fear and trouble. Such affluence rendered Baiae as much a miracle of art, as it was before of nature; its splendor may be inferred from its innumerable ruins, heaps of marbles, mosaics, and other precious fragments of taste.

It flourished in full glory down to the days of Theodoric the Goth; but the destruction of these enchanted palaces, followed quickly upon the irruption of the Northern conquerors, who overturned the Roman system, sacked, and burned all before them; and destroyed, or dispersed, the whole race of nobility. Loss of fortune left the Romans neither the means, nor, indeed, the thought of supporting such expensive establishments; which can only be enjoyed in perfection, during peace and prosperity. No sooner had opulence withdrawn her hand, than the unbridled sea rushed upon its old domain; moles and buttresses were torn asunder, and washed away; whole promontories, with the proud towers that once crowned their brows, were undermined, and tumbled headlong into the deep; where, many feet below the surface, pavements of streets, foundations of houses, and masses of walls may still be descried. Internal commotions of the earth contributed also largely to this general devastation; mephitic vapours, and stagnated waters, have converted this favourite seat of health into the den of pestilence, at least during the estival heats; yet Baiae, in its ruined state, and stripped of all its ornaments, still presents many beautiful and striking subjects for the pencil.

As we rowed under the lofty headlands, says Swinburne; our Cicerone pointed to vaults and terraces, and allotted them respectively to the residence of some illustrious personage of antiquity. The sands abound with fragments rolled from the ruins; and some men employ themselves in the summer time, in dragging the bottom of the sea with small baskets; and seldom fail of bringing up with the sand, a medal or cornelian, that repays them for their time and labour.

At the bottom of the bay, and at the foot of the steep rocks; which serve as a foundation to the ruins, called Nero's house, are some dark caves of great depth, leading to the hottest of all vapour baths: no one can remain long in them, or, indeed, penetrate to the end, without an extraordinary degree of strength and resolution. These baths, thirty in number, are said to have been adorned with Greek inscriptions, and statues, denoting by their expressions and attitudes, what particular part of the human frame was affected and relieved from its pains, by each particular bath. Parrino informs us, that three physicians of Salerno, apprehensive of the ruin, that the surprizing efficacy and reputation of these waters would bring upon their college, came hither in the dead of the night, mutilated the figures, defaced the letters, and, as far as their time would allow, disturbed the course of the springs; but the historian adds, very gravely, that Hygeia, ever watchful over the health of Naples, revenged this barbarous outrage, by conjuring up a storm, that buried the three doctors in the sea, before they could reach their home or triumph in the success of their villainy. The springs at the bottom of the grotto are so hot, as to boil an egg hard almost instantaneously. Martyn says, these baths are much frequented; and that there are sometimes, from the hospitals of the annunciation alone at Naples, above nine hundred patients.

As for the city of Baiae, which stood on this coast, there is not the least remains to be seen of it. The fort, lately built here, is called Baia, and stands upon a rock; but the air of it is so unwholesome, that the governor sleeps every night at Puzzuoli, which is on the opposite side of the bay, about three miles distant. Sometimes prisoners are brought to this fort, which is more dreaded than any other prison in Italy.

On the sea shore, facing Baiae, is an ancient temple of Mercury, which may be looked upon as the pantheon in miniature, for it is not above twenty-five common paces in diameter. It is quite round, with an aperture in the center of the roof, for the admission of light; two persons, directly opposite to each other, and whispering close to the wall, may converse with each other, without being overheard by the company in the middle.

Not far from this temple, and nearer Baiae, is an octangular shell of a temple of Venus. Behind this temple is a dark apartment hewn in a rock, called La stanza di Venere, or Venus's apartment; the roof of which is embellished with bas-reliefs. These pieces represent nothing obscene or immodest, but only mythological stories and emblems; as a man pursuing a woman, a cupid, several swans, fishes, festoons, &c.

After passing a precipice that projects over the sea, the remains of Hortensius's villa are to be seen. This celebrated orator, Cicero unjustly calls Triton, because he had accustomed the fishes in his ponds to come to his call, and fed them with his own hand.

Near Hortensius's villa is shewn an ancient ruin, said to have been the monument of Agrippina, who was put to death by Nero, her own son. Within it, on the left-hand, is an apartment, to which we ascend by a ladder, where are several bas-reliefs of plaister, representing a sphynx, a griffin, and other imaginary animals. A figure of a woman, about two feet high, to be seen here, passes for Agrippina herself; and; adjoining to this, is a smaller apartment, where antiquarians say that her remains were deposited; but with what truth, or even probability, is not easily determined. For Tacitus affirms, that even after the death of her unnatural son, the tomb of Agrippina, consisted only of an heap of earth thrown together, between Misenum, and the villa of Julius Coesar. That this unfortunate princess had a seat in this neighbourhood is unquestionable, as appears from Tacitus; but the same author points out its situation near the Lucrine lake.

Between Baia and Cape Miseno, are, likewise, several other remains of antiquity; but, by the explanations of them, are mostly grounded on uncertain conjectures, Among other pieces, there has been dug up hereabouts, a statue of Venus, twice as big as the life, holding a globe in one hand, and three golden apples in the other; from whence some antiquarians conclude, that Venus Genetrix must have had a temple in this neighbourhood; and, as Julius Coesar had a country-seat near Baiae, others still farther alledge, that he founded and built this temple.

On this coast there is likewise an ancient temple, called Boaula or Boalia, ascribed to Hercules; who, according to the ancient fable, brought hither the oxen which he had stolen in Spain. Even still, a small district here bears the name of Baulo or Baula, concerning which Silius Italicus says,
Hercules videt ipse littore Baulos.
Lib. xii.

‘"Herculean Bauli founded on that shore He view'd."’

The antiquarians are at a loss where to look for Bauli, or the villa where Nero conducted his mother, after her coming from Antium. According to Tacitus, it must have stood between Cape Misenum, and the Lago Bojano.

That the Elysian fields extend themselves towards the Dead Sea, is taken for granted; but as for the exact situation, some look for it about the district of Baula, where, at present, stands a mean village; others place the Elysian fields, near the Mereato del sabato, as it is called. Others again are positive, that the Elysian fields must have been in the neighbourhood of Cuma. All these spots, the fertility of the soil excepted, which produce delicious fruits and wine, exhibit nothing so beautiful and striking, as to deserve the appellation of Elysian fields.

It was at Bauli, which is very near Baiae, observes Lady Millar, that the monster Nero contrived the means of assassinating his mother. Acinetus, who commanded his fleet at Cape Misenum, was the man who suggested to him, the contrivance of a false bottom to the ship, on board of which Agripina embarked, after a great feast given by her son, to ratify their reconciliation. Here it was also, that the famous triumvirate Coesar, Pompey, and Mark Anthony, met and consulted: and here it was, adds Lady Millar, we sat down amongst a number of peasants, not in a wine-house, but at the door of one, extremely hungry and fatigued, and fed most heartily on very coarse bread, anchovies, and eggs; but our beverage was Falernian wine, very justly celebrated by Horace, the growth of the Monte Falerno, one of the mountains that bounded our view.

The whole of this beauteous bay, formerly the seat of pleasure, and at one period, the most populous spot in Italy, is now very thinly inhabited; and the contrast is still stronger between its ancient opulence and present poverty, than between the numbers of its ancient and present inhabitants. It must be acknowledged, that we can hardly look around us in any part of the world, without perceiving objects, which, to a contemplative mind, convey reflections on the instability of grandeur, and sad vicissitudes and reverses, to which human affairs are liable; but here those objects are so numerous, and so striking, that they must make an impression on the most careless passenger.

In returning from Baia to Puzzuoli, there is a road close by the sea, hewn through a rock, and near it is an inscription in Latin.

"Instead of the road raised by Hercules, amidst the fury of the waves, repaired by Coesar, when dictator, for self-interest, and restored by Agrippa for ostentation, and after all ruined by the violence of the sea; Pedro Antonio, of Arragon, in the reign of Charles II. having, for the health of the public, put the baths in a good condition, has, on the firmness of a rock, substituted this road, contrived by a wiser Hercules, destined to a better purpose, and which will stand in no need of a Coesar, or an Agrippa. Traveller, go on chearfully along the Arragonian road to Baiae, where, as the marble underneath informs thee, are noble baths, not subservient to luxury, but conducive to health. 1668."

CHAP. VII. Of the Environs, West of Naples.

HAVING now taken a view of the environs East of Naples, we will proceed to the Western side, which is no less interesting, on account of Herculaneum, Pompeii, and the museum at Portici.

A broad, level road, by the sea-side, and through a village, where many of the nobility have villas, leads to the palace at Portici, at a small distance from which is the entrance into Herculaneum; a city buried by a torrent of lava, that issued from the mountain, in the first year of the emperor Titus Vespasian. The thickness of the heap that covers it, has been much increased, by fiery streams vomited, since that catastrophe, and now forms a mass of twenty-four feet deep of dark-grey stone, which is easily broken to pieces. By its non-adhesion to foreign bodies, marbles, and bronzes, are preserved in it, as in a case made to fit them; and exact moulds, of the faces and limbs of statutes, are frequently found in this substance.

The elder Pliny lost his life in this irruption; he, and his companions, says his nephew, the younger Pliny, went out from his house in order to escape. They had pillows upon their heads, with napkins, as the best and only defence against the storms of stones that fell around them. It was day every where else, but here a deeper darkness prevailed than in the most obscure night; which, in some degree however, was dissipated by torches, and other lights of various kinds. They proceeded as far on the shore as they could, in hopes of finding some means of putting out to sea, but found the waves run extremely high and boisterous. There, says this author, in his letters, my
The DEATH of PLINY.

uncle having drank a draught or two of cold water, threw himself down upon a cloth, that was spread for him; when, immediately the flames, and a strong smell of sulphur, which was the forerunner of them, dispersed the rest of the company, and obliged him to rise. He raised himself up, with the assistance of two of his servants, and instantly fell down dead; suffocated, as I conjecture, by some gross and noxious vapour, having always had weak lungs, and frequently subject to a difficulty of breathing.

The precise situation, of this subterraneous city, was not known till the year 1713; when it was accidentally discovered by some labourers, who, in digging a well, struck upon a statue on the benches of the theatre. Many others were afterwards dug out, and sent to France by the prince of Elbeuf; but little progress was made in the excavation, till Charles, infanta of Spain, ascended the Neapolitan throne: by his unwearied efforts, and liberality, a very considerable part of Herculaneum has been explored; and such treasures of antiquity drawn out, as form the most curious museum in the world. It being too arduous a task to attempt removing the covering, the king contented himself with cutting galleries to the principal buildings, and causing the extent of one or two of them to be cleared: of these the theatre is the most considerable. On a balustrade, which divided the orchestra from the stage, was found a row of statues; and, on each side of the pulpitum, the equestrian figure of a person of the Nonian family; they are now placed under the porticos of the palace; and, from the great rarity of equestrian statues in marble, would be very valuable objects, were their workmanship even less excellent than it is; one of them, in particular, is a very fine piece of sculpture.

Since the King of Spain left Naples, the digging has been continued, but with less spirit and expenditure; indeed, the collection of curiosities brought out of Herculaneum and Pompeii, is already so considerable, that a relaxation of zeal and activity becomes excuseable.

This city, says Northall, must have been situated where Portici is at present, for we knew we crossed under the main street, by hearing the coaches rattle over our heads. It has been called by the poets, the city, or the salt-pits of Hercules. Urbs Herculea, Salinoe Herculeoe. This was one of the most ancient cities of Europe, and is supposed to have been built before the Trojan war. Dionysius, of Halicarnassus, relates, that it was founded by Hercules; and, though many of the relations of Dionysius are fabulous, yet there are many reasons why his account of this city ought not to be suppressed, or rejected. According to him, Hercules, having destroyed the tyrants and robbers, who infested Spain and Gaul, passed the Alps, and entered Italy, where he built Pompeia, and afterwards Herculaneum, at which place his fleet met him. The Romans became masters of the city, two hundred and ninety-three years before Christ. The agreeable situation of this coast induced many Romans to build villas there; and it appears there were several at Herculaneum. Cicero mentions one belonging to Fabius and Seneca, another built by C. Coesar. It appears, likewise, by a description given by Statius, of these villas, that they were decorated with the finest paintings and sculpture, by Aleppo, Phidias, Polycletus, and other Greek masters; which will account for the great number of exquisite remains, of ancient art, found in the city of Herculaneum.

It is at Portici, six miles from Naples, that the superb museum of antiques, found at Herculaneum and Pompeia, is deposited. Were there nothing but the cabinet of Portici and Pompeia, worth viewing in Italy, they alone would considerably repay any traveller, for all the inconveniences he must suffer from bad roads, bad inns, &c. should they be even more wretched, says Lady Millar, than some that we have experienced.

From these gloomy vaults, speaking of the descent into Herculaneum, I returned, says Swinburne, with eagerness, to contemplate the riches they once contained, now arranged in a wing of the palace of Portici. This museum possesses not only statues, busts, altars, inscriptions, and other ornamental appendages of opulence and luxury, but also an entire assortment of the domestic, musical, and chirurgical instruments used by the ancients; tripods of elegant form and exquisite execution; lamps in endless variety; vases and basons of noble dimensions; chandeliers of the most beautiful shapes; pateras and other appurtenances of sacrifice; looking-glasses of polished metal; coloured glass, so hard, clear, and well stained, as to appear like emeralds, sapphires, and other precious stones; a kitchen completely fitted up with copper pans, lined with silver; kettles, cisterns for heating water, and every necessary for culinary purposes; specimens of various sorts of eatables, retaining their form, though burnt to a cinder; corn, bread, fish, oil, wine, and flour; a lady's toilet, fully furnished with combs, thimbles, rings, paint, ear-rings, &c. the busts fill several rooms; but very few of the originals, whom they are meant to imitate, are known. The floors are paved with ancient mosaic; few rare medals have been found in these ruins; the most curious is a gold medallion of Augustus, struck in Sicily, when he had been saluted emperor fifteen times. The fresco paintings, which, for the sake of preservation, have been torn off the walls, and framed and glazed, are to be seen in another part of the palace; the elegance of the attitudes, and the infinite variety of the subjects, stamp them as performances worthy of the attention of artists and antiquarians; but no pictures, yet found, are masterly enough to prove, that the Greeks carried the art of painting, to so great a height of perfection, as they did that of statuary; yet, can we suppose, those authors incapable of appreciating the merits of an Apelles or a Zeuxis; who, with so much critical discernment, have pointed out the beauties of the works of a Phidias or a Praxiteles; beauties, that we have still an opportunity of contemplating? Would they have bestowed equal praises on both kinds of performances, if either of them had been much inferior to the other? I think it is not probable, and we must presume, that the capital productions of ancient painters, being of more perishable materials than busts and statues, have been destroyed in the fatal disasters that have so often afflicted both Greece and Italy. Herculaneum and Pompeii were but towns of the second order; and not likely to possess the master-pieces of the great artists, which were usually destined to adorn the more celebrated temples, or the palaces of kings and emperors.

A more valuable acquisition, than bronzes and pictures, were thought to be made, when a large parcel of manuscripts was found among the ruins; hopes were entertained, that many works of the classicks, which time has deprived us of, were now going to be restored to light; and that a new mine of science was on the point of being opened. But the difficulty of unrolling the burnt parchment, of pasting the fragments on a flat surface, and of decyphering the obscure letters, have proved such obstacles, that very little progress has been made in the work. A priest invented the method of proceeding; but it would require the joint labours of many learned men, to carry on so nice and tedious an operation, with any success. Perhaps, such an employment would be well calculated to fill up the idle hours of the nuns; whose delicate fingers are best adapted to so nice an operation. At present, the work is suspended, and manuscripts lie in dusty heaps, as useless to the learned world, as they had been for the preceding seventeen centuries. One volume, that was unrolled and completely read, contained a Greek treatise, against the bad effects of music in a republic.

Among the antique marbles, the figures of animals, as well the fabulous, as those that imitate nature, are finely done; they were used to convey water into the baths, and there is much humour expressed in their countenance; especially in those of the chimeras, basilisks, &c. An elegant statue of Diana, in white marble carved after the purple gown, worn by the Roman ladies of antiquity; the garment is edged with a lace, exactly resembling point; it is about an inch and an half broad, and has been purple and gilt, great part of which still remains. The statue, busts, bas-reliefs, in bronze, which are very numerous, are of such exquisite workmanship, that it is not in the power of the most able artist of this day, to execute representations, in metal of any kind, that can rival, or even bear a competition with many of them.

All the rooms, about ten in number, are paved with antique mosaic, exactly as they found their present floors in Herculaneum; these rooms, being constructed of similar dimensions for their reception; and no two of them are of the same pattern, The Al'y Grec borders, encompass every different floor, and are curious in their regularity, and linear intricacy. One pavement particularly deserves notice, it represents a Roman camp, forming an exact square; in the middle, of each side, is a gate fronting the center. Towers of three stories high, at equal distances, encompass the whole; they are all alike in size, except those at the angles, which appear larger, and more considerable than the others. The seats, for the musicians, found in the orchestra at Herculaneum, are curious; the frames and legs being still perfect; they are of bronze, and have been gilt; some of the gilding still remains; the legs represent two serpents on each side of the stool; which, forming a kind of cross, somewhat like two Ss, describe the serpentine line of beauty, and produce a most graceful effect. Here are also inscriptions, setting forth the names of those who used the bath at Stabia.

Amongst the utensils in bronze, the scales and weights deserve notice, for the delicacy of their workmanship. It appears, that the weights commonly used, were busts of gods, or heroes, suspended by a ring. The scales are of various sizes; besides a great many instruments for weighing, like those called in England steelyards; to which the weights, resembling human figures, seem to have belonged. The moulds for ices, and various instruments for ornamenting pastry, clearly prove the luxury of those times to have far exceeded, in fertility of invention, that of our day: a great variety of strainers, pierced in the most curious manner, and which are frequently found in pairs, one fitting into the other; but, for what use designed, is not easy to determine; many of them are in silver, others in bronze. Here are culinary utensils, of more various shapes and sizes, than can be found in the best furnished modern kitchen.

One of these rooms is built, and furnished, in the exact conformity with a kitchen discovered entire; it contains a number of articles, many of them so complicated, that their use does not clearly appear; each vessel is of bronze, and of fine workmanship: upon the whole, it seems indisputable, that the ancients employed more refinements in their entertainments, than the moderns; and must have served up a much greater variety of dishes than we do. The dressers, stew-holes, stoves, boilers, fish-kettles, resemble ours, though they seem to have been better contrived. The lamps to light the apartments, and the candelabras to sustain them, shew a surprising fertility of invention and execution. Here are also tunable bells, of different sizes, for their cattle, resembling those in England, called tintinabula; also keys, letters to stamp with, perhaps to mark linen; instruments of agriculture, surgery and mathematics. Another article, of culinary use, which would be very convenient and agreeable in England, is a kind of portable kitchen, which does not exceed the size of a commodious plate-warmer; in the center is a vase for water; under it a furnace for fire, with an invention for boiling meat at the same time that it heats the water; this vase has a double bottom, and three little flews, or chimneys for carrying off the smoke; the double bottom admits of stewing any thing in the manner called by the French à la braise: this would be a most convenient machine, for those who like to eat in parks or gardens. They have cups and saucers in silver, of superior sculpture to any I have ever yet seen; and resembling in make those now used for tea and coffee: their handles are so curiously contrived, as to balance them, and prevent their overturning, however carelessly held when full.

The instruments of music, I particularly remarked, are the following; the seringa, or flute of several notes, formed of bone, and which may be frequently seen as the insignia, in painting, if not always accompanying the God Pan, and the satyrs: the Crotali; these are like basons, or deep saucers, with broad brims; they were struck against each other, and are of brass. The Sistrum, in shape like a horse-shoe, crossed by several wires passing through holes, and so made, as to admit of their slipping from side to side; when this instrument is waved by the hand, the wires produce a loud noise. The Tibioe, or double flute; this is made of metal.

In armoury are many shields, iron boots, spears, &c. In short, were we to describe all the curious articles, that have been dug out of this celebrated city, it would fill a volume. Such accounts have been published, and to these we must refer the reader, whose taste for antiquities, will lead him to such enquiries.

Sixteen miles North of Naples stood the ancient city of Capua; which is said, at one period, to have vied in magnificence with Rome and Carthage. Hannibal's army is said to have been conquered by the luxuries of this place. Whether Capua brought on the ruin of Hannibal, or not, it is certain that Hannibal occasioned the ruin of Capua. The Capuans, having broken their connexion with Rome, and formed an alliance with her enemy, were besieged by Fulvius and Appius. Hannibal exerted all his abilities for his new friends, but was not able to bring the Romans to a battle, or to raise the siege; and Capua fell a victim. Capua was a flourishing city, three hundred and fifty years before the birth of Christ; and, in the time of Augustus, contained three hundred thousand inhabitants, and a great number of magnificent buildings. It continued in a state of grandeur during the continuance of the Roman empire, but afterwards suffered greatly from the Goths; next fell into the hands of the Lombards, and was, at last, burnt by the Saracens, in 842. Twelve years after this, its inhabitants removed to New Capua, then built, about three miles from it. Several villages are erected on the scite of Old Capua, and one of them bears its name; but the only remains of its former grandeur, worth noticing, is an amphitheatre; the lower order, Tuscan, with a Doric over it. In its present imperfect state, the architecture appears clumsy; it was built with brick, and faced with stone or marble; but the facing is all carried off. Many of the ruins have been removed into the new town; the walls of the town-house are lined with them, and exhibit gigantic grotesque heads, which adorned the key-stones of the amphitheatre; private houses are also enriched with fragments of these ruins, and the Cathedral can boast of many of them.

Modern Capua is but a small place, fortified with a rampart. The streets are narrow, dirty, ill-paved, and thin of people. There is but one inn in the town, yet it is an archbishopric. No city in Italy contains a greater number of ancient inscriptions, brought here from old Capua; and a statue, of king Charles II. of Spain, is erected in the market-place. The country, between this and Naples, (distance sixteen miles) is fertile, and delightful in the extreme. The causeway, though of a much later date than the Appian way, it is not at all inferior to it; and, in many parts, the rows of trees, planted on each side, form a fine visto, more than a mile in length. The country, on each side, is diversified with corn-fields, gardens, and vineyards; and the vines climbing up the lofty trees, and interwoven with their luxurious branches, from a kind of natural festoon.

The king is building a palace at Casserta, on the plain where ancient Capua stood, out of all proportion to the revenues of the kingdom; and, when finished, will be one of the most spacious and magnificent palaces in Europe. This immense building is of a quadrangular form, 750 feet English, by 580; about 112 feet high, comprehending five habitable stories, which contain such a number of apartments, as will accommodate the most numerous court, without any accessary buildings.

The quadrangule is divided into four courts, each about 252 feet by 170. In each of the two principal fronts are three corresponding gates; forming three openings, which pierce the whole building. The middle gates form the entry to a magnificent portico, for coaches. The grand staircase is adorned with the richest marble; and all the apartments correspond with the external appearance. Moore tells us, that when he was there in 1777, among the workmen employed in finishing this palace, were one hundred and fifty Africans, taken prisoners from the states of Barbary, with whom Naples is always at war. There were about as many Christian slaves, condemned to work there, for crimes against the laws; they are, however, better cloathed and fed than the Africans.

The gardens, belonging to this palace, are equally extensive and magnificent. A great number of fine statues, most of them copies of the best antiques, are there in readiness to set up, when the gardens are finished; which, probably, are by this time. Here was a very large elephant, kept by African slaves. In the garden is an artificial water, and an island with a kind of castle on it, regularly fortified, and a numerous train of artillery; some of them nine or ten pounders. I no sooner entered this fort, says Moore, than I wished uncle Toby and corporal Trim had been of our party; it would have charmed the soul of the worthy veteran, and his faithful servant.

At Lorrento, on a bay of the sea, eighteen or twenty miles South of Naples, the town that gave birth to Tasso, in 1544, are the noble ruins of a villa mentioned in Statius's Sylvoe, that belonged to Pollius Foelix; it appears to have been accurately described by that poet; for, though the smaller features are disfigured, the great out-lines of the place are still discernable.

CHAP VIII. Of the several Cities, &c.

AVELLINO is a city, about thirty miles west of Naples, in the road to Tarento; we enter it by a fine avenue, a mile long, between two rows of poplars, remarkable for their height, bulk, and closeness of foliage. The country, from Naples, is delightful; particularly the immense plains of Nola, (remarkable for the invention of bells) which are one entire grove of tall elms and poplars, planted in rows, to support the vines growing at their feet, and stretching their branches from tree to tree, in beautiful garlands. Between the lines, the husbandman sows corn and pulse, without any fallow; and, to prevent the land from being exhausted, raises early crops of Lupins and beans, which he hoes up before they seed, and buries for manure. The harrowing, and rolling, is performed by oxen. This soil is a sandy volcanic loam, very rich and vegetative.

Avellino is a considerable city, extending a mile in length, down the declivity of a hill, with ugly streets, but tolerable houses. The churches have nothing to recommend them, being crouded with monstrous ornaments, in a barbarous stile, apparently borrowed from the Spaniards. The cathedral is a poor building. The good people of this town need not run to Naples, to see the blood of St. Januarius; for they have a statue of St. Lawrence, with a phial of his blood; which, for eight days in August, entertains them with a similar miraculous liquefaction. Their only edifice of note is a public granary, of the composite order, adorned with antique statues, and a very elegant one, in bronze, of Charles II. king of Spain, whilst a boy. The number of inhabitants is between eight and ten thousand. The bishop's revenue about 1,125l. sterling a year. The magistracy consists of a syndic, and four eletti, all annual; which offices are engrossed by a certain number of families, that neither inter-marry, nor associate with the rest of the burghers. There is a manufactory here that dyes cloth, made up of various qualities and colours, but chiefly blue; the duty of which brings in a revenue, to the prince, of 3,750l. yearly. They make also here, a great deal of macaroni, which is in great repute all over the country.

Avellino abounds with cattle and provisions of every kind; a good mule sells for eleven pounds English, and a bullock for nine pounds. Each street is supplied with wholesome water, but their wine is indifferent. The volcanic soil produces little corn, but fruit in abundance, particularly the hazel nut. Nut-bushes cover the face of the valley; and, in prolific years, bring in a profit of 60,000 ducats, equal to 11,250l. English. They are what we call Spanish nuts.

The women of this neighbourhood are handsome, and take great pains to deck out their persons to advantage. Once a week they wash their hair, with a lye of wood ashes, that changes it from a dark brown to a flaxen yellow, of many different tints in the same head of hair. This I take, says Swinburne, to be the true flava Coesaries of the Latin poets. Experience has taught me to discover many traces of ancient customs, in the modes and habits of the modern Italians. Attentive observation will recognize the Preficoe of the ancients, in the appearance and actions of old women, hired in Calabria, to howl at burials. A classic scholar cannot stroll under the groves of the plain, without calling to mind Horace's—

Durus

Vindemiato et invictus; cui soepe viator

Cecisset, magnâ compellans voce cucullum.

SAT. vii.
That is, "The rough and invincible vine-dresser, before whom the traveller often relaxed, calling him cuckold;" for he will see this vine-dresser sitting among the boughs, lashing raw lads, and bashful maidens, as they return from market, with the same gross wit, and rough jokes, that gave such jest to the farces of Atella.

That verse in Virgil,

[*] Hinc altâ sub rupe canet frondator in adversus.

ECL. i.

Naturally strikes us, when, in our walks, under the rocky clifts of Pausilippo, we see the peasant swinging from the top of a tree, on a rope of twisted willows, trimming the poplar and the luxuriant tendrils of the vine, and making the whole vale ring with his rustic ditty.

Great likenesses may be found among the paintings of Herculaneum, of the Neapolitan girls dancing to the snapping of their fingers, and the beat of a tambourine; their petticoats whirling about them. A young fisherman of Naples, naturally throws his limbs into the most graceful attitudes; and it was, no doubt, from the study of similar figures, that the Grecian statuaries, drew their nice ideas of beauty, and perfection of form.

If an antiquary longs for a Roman dish, Sorento will supply him with the teats of a sow, dressed in the antique taste, by the name of Verina. The rigging of small vessels, at the present day, answers the description of ancient sailing; and, without examining the trim of these boats, it will not be easy to comprehend the manoeuvres of Ulysses, or Aeneas, in their various navigations.

In descending the last ridge of hills, between the Eastern and Western courts of Italy, we come into the extensive plains of Puglia; in the center of which stands Foggia, a principal town of the province of Capitanata, without walls, citadel, or gates. It is neatly built of white stone, and has two or three good streets. The custom-house has a handsome edifice. This town, with many others on the coast of the Adriatic, was ruined in 1732, by an earthquake, and has been rebuilt with neatness and regularity. In summer the air is unwholesome; and all, who can remove, desert it, during the hot months. In winter, it contains twenty thousand inhabitants, including strangers. All the large streets, and open squares, are undermined with vaults, where corn is buried, and preserved sound, from year to year.

This town has been of some consequence in former years, and still is, being a staple for corn and wool, and where the toll of sheep is paid to and from Puglia; for vast quantities of sheep descend in autumn from the mountains of Abruzzo, into the warm plains of Puglia, to yean; and, in May, return to the high country. The invention of this duty is ascribed, by Varro, to the ancient Romans; who, on subduing the Italian states, were accustomed to allot the improved lands to their non-citizens; whilst they left the wastes, and less cultivated tracts, to the original possessors, on their paying a tenth of the produce of the corn-lands, and a fifth of all other fruits. Breeders of cattle and sheep, were to compound with the censors. In later times, the emperor appropriated all such common lands to themselves, and caused them to be considered as royalties. As this traffic increased, the crown, not being possessed of a sufficient range of pasture for the great flocks, purchased other lands of the Puglian proprietors. These royal pastures are bounded by stones, and are known by the name of Taooliere; they extend sixty miles in length, and thirty in breadth, and are capable of feeding one million, two hundred thousand sheep: in return, the shepherds of Abruzzo bound themselves for ever, to drive their flocks here yearly, from the mountains, and to pay certain duties, or toll, for every one hundred head of sheep. This duty is called the dogana, and is one of the richest mines of wealth, belonging to the crown of Naples. It has been continually increasing. Soon after its institution, it cleared 72,000 ducats; in 1730, it produced 235,972. At present, the neat profit, arising to the king, from letting the pastures, is about 40,000 ducats; but with the duties in tallow, wool, &c. this amounts to 400,000.

On account of the great variety of field sports, to which the adjacent hills and plains are peculiarly adapted, this town was a favourite residence of the German princes. Charles I. of Spain, erected a sumptuous palace here, and died in this place, in his way to Brindisi, in 1285. The Puglian sportsmen run down hares with greyhounds, and pursue the wild boar, with one lurcher, and two or three mastiffs. The hunters ride with a lance, and a pair of pistols.

A few miles from Foggia are some faint traces of walls, said to be those of Arpi, or Argyripae, once the capital of a kingdom, founded by Diomed, after the siege of Troy. The flat pastures, about this place, and Manfredonia, for twenty miles, abound in asphodels, thistles, wild artichokes, and fennel-grant; of the last are made bee-hives, and chair-bottoms. The leaves are given to asses, and the peasants eat the tender buds, when boiled, as a delicacy. This plant, says Swinburne, who travelled over the spot, covers half the plain, between Foggia and Manfredonia; and grows so high, that there is an instance, in one of the wars, between France and Spain, of the Spaniards having marched through it undiscovered, close up to the French entrenchments. The artichokes are given to buffaloes.

Manfredonia is a city, built by Manfred, in 1261. In order to found it, under the most favourable auspices, he called together the most eminent professors of astrology, a science he had great confidence in; and caused them to calculate the happiest hour and minute for laying the first stone. The port was secured from storms by a pier; the ramparts were built of the most solid materials; and, in the great town, was hung a bell of so considerable a volume, as to be heard over all the plain of Capitanata, to alarm the country in case of invasion. In spite, however, of all the precautions taken by Manfred, neither his pains, or the horoscopes of his wizards, have been able to render it opulent or powerful. It carries on a direct trade in corn, with Venice and Greece, but has scarce six thousand inhabitants. It was pillaged by the Turks in 1620. All sorts of vegetables abound here, and are infinitely superior to those raised in the volcanic soil of Naples; and fish is plentiful and cheap.

About twenty miles South of Manfredonia, on the coast, in the way to Brindisi, are the fields of Cannae, famous for the victory obtained over the Romans by Hannibal, in the 536th year of Rome. The traces of the town are very faint, consisting of fragments of altars, cornices, gates, walls, vaults, and under-ground granaries. It was destroyed the year before the battle. The scene of action is marked out to posterity, by the name of Pezzo di Sangue; "field of blood:" The peasants frequently turn up spurs, and heads of lances, with the plough; and horse loads of armour and weapons, have been, at different times, carried away. The bread of this place is as brown as mahogany, and quite gritty, owing to the incompact texture of the stone, with which the millers grind their corn. They beat out their corn here, by the trampling of a great number of mares, tied in a string by their tails, and whipped round and round. In the Terra di Otranto, they do this by a pair of oxen, who drag between them a heavy rough stone, that forces out the grain.

Barletti is another city on the coast, a little more to the South. It has a ruinous aspect, its walls tumbling down, and its ditches filled with rubbish; but the city within, though thinly inhabited, is magnificently built. It conveys the idea of some mighty state, reduced by conquest to a province, or depopulated by pestilence. Its streets are wide and well paved, the houses large and lofty, and built with hewn stone; which, from age, has acquired a polish like marble. Some of these venerable mansions have the stones cut angularly, after the Tuscan manner. Many houses still retain painted arches, short twisted columns, and other remnants of the taste of the Saracens, who are supposed to have built them; whilst others are decorated with all the embellishments of the old Grecian architecture. The cathedral is remarkable for its antique granite columns. Ferdinand I. was crowned here.

In the market-place stands a bronze colossal statue, seventeen feet three inches high, supposed to represent the emperor Heraclius, who began his reign in 610. He is standing, drest in a military habit, crowned with a diadem, a short cloak hanging from his left shoulder, and thrown over his left arm, which holds a globe; his right arm is raised above his head, and grasps a small cross. The image is rude and incorrect, and the attitude awkward; Swinburne supposes it to have been cut in Italy, and dressed after the Roman fashion. The citadel is spacious, and commands the port, which is a labyrinth consisting of several irregular piers, where ships are moored, but not sheltered from the North. The exports here, are salt, corn, almonds, and liquorice, which last grows here spontaneously in the swamps.

The next city southward is Trani, a sea-port town also, and an archbishopric. There is, here, a collegiate seminary, but the students seem averse to study. From time immemorial, no work is done in Trani after dinner, so that the whole afternoon is spent by the inhabitants in dozing, chattering, or sauntering. Though the exportation of corn from this place is considerable, it seems the only business stirring. Industry seems to have forsaken the cities on this coast; there are too many of them; so that, jealous of each other, they enfeeble their trade; and, being averse to all friendly intercourse, never study their interests. All sorts of vegetables here are plentiful, and exquisite; the market-people sell beans and peas by weight, and use pebbles in lieu of weights.

Trani is tolerably well built with stone, on uneven ground. The harbour is encircled by the town, and has scarcely depth of water enough to float a boat. The corn ships anchor two miles from the shore. The cathedral was erected six hundred years ago, and is a mean building. Here is also a castle, consisting of some gloomy towers; but the monastery of St. Clare is a sumptuous enclosure. If there was a good road on this coast, it would be delightful to travel it, with the Adriatic on one side, and olive groves on the other. There are other cities between Trani and Brindisi, viz. Bisceglia, Molfetta, Giovenazzo, and Bari. As they have nothing remarkable, we shall pass them and speak of Bari.

Bari makes a great figure at a distance, it is defended by double walls, and an old castle, occupying a rocky peninsula, of a triangular form, about a mile in circumference. The houses are, in general, mean, but built on a soil raised by the ruins of former edifices, near thirty feet above the level of the sea. From the rampart, says Swinburne, at every turn of the eye, we catch a different view of the sea and coast, stretching from the mountains of Garganus, to the hills of Ostuni. The towns, that rise along this line in various degrees of shade, have a beautiful effect, and nothing can be more picturesque, than the fleets of fishing-boats, steering for their respective harbours, on the approach of night. On shore, the bloom of spring, and lively foliage, contrasted with innumerable white cottages, form an enchanting rural scene.

This city is also an archbishopric. The cathedral has no extensive beauties, and its revenues do not exceed 1,125l. English. Its steeple is one of the highest in the kingdom, about 253 feet from the ground: among the treasures of this place, is an iron diadem, with which some Barian writers pretend the Norman kings were crowned. Religious orders abound in Bari, and some of them have rich gaudy churches, with good paintings. Here are twelve convents for men, five for women, and three hospitals. The inhabitants are about 16,700, are an active pains-taking set of people, and carry on a good trade, in oil and almonds. They also export to the Venetian islands, a large quantity of pot-ash, soap, aniseed and garlick.

Brindisi was the ancient Brundusium, that gave birth to Pacuvius, and where Virgil died. In this city Octavianus first assumed the name of Coesar; and here he concluded one of his short-lived peaces with Antony. The barbarians, who ravaged every corner of Italy, did not spare so rich a town; and, in 836, the Saracens gave a finishing blow to its fortunes. The phrenzy for expeditions to Palestine, (it being one of the ports where pilgrims and warriors took shipping,) contributed powerfully to the re-establishment of this city. It was also benefited by the residence of the emperor Frederick, whose frequent armaments for the Holy Land, required his presence at this place of rendezvous; but, the loss of Jerusalem, the fall of the Grecian empire, and the ruin of all the Levant trade, after the Turks had conquered the East, reduced Brindisi to a state of inactivity and desolation, from which it has never been able to emerge. The Appian way, passing Bari, terminated at Brundusium.

Brindisi, as it now appears, is a great city, if the extent of its walls be considered; but the inhabited houses do not fill above half the enclosure. The streets are crooked and rough, the buildings poor and ruinous; and it has no very remarkable church, or edifice. The canons of the cathedral retain the ancient custom of having hand-maids; but, as they take care to choose them, says Swinburne, of canonical age and face, we may suppose these focarioe, to be only chaste representatives of the help-mates allowed the clergy, before popes and councils had reprobated them. These women are exempt from taxes, and enjoy many privileges. When they die, they are buried gratis, and the funeral is attended by the chapter, with great solemnity; a mark of respect not paid to any relations of the canons.

Near the port, stand the walls of a palace, erected by Walter de Brienne, in a very bad taste. Its materials are grey stone, divided at regular distances, with broad courses of black marble. Little remains of ancient Brundusium, except innumerable broken pillars, fixed at the corners of streets, to defend the houses from carts; fragments of coarse mosaic work, the floors of former habitations, the column of the light-house, a large marble bason, into which the water runs from brazen heads of deer, some inscriptions, ruins of aqueducts, coins, and other small furniture of an antiquary's cabinet. The castle, built to protect the Northern branch of the harbour, is large and stately.

The port is double, and the finest in the Adriatic. The outer part is formed by two promontories, that stretch off gradually from each other, as they advance into the sea; leaving a very narrow channel at the base of the angle. The island of St. Andrew, on which is a fortress, lies out between the capes, and secures the whole road from the fury of the waves. In this deep pit, or space, large ships may ride at anchor. At the bottom of the bay the hills recede, in a semicircular shape, to leave room for the inner haven, which, as it were, clasps the city in its arms; or rather encircles it in the figure of a stag's head and horns. This form is said to have given rise to its name Brundusium; in the old Messapian language signifying a deer's head. Nothing can be more beautiful than this interior port, or better adapted to trade and navigation. It is very deep, and extends in length two miles and a half; in breadth, 1200 feet in the widest part. The hills, and the town, shelter it on all sides. The north ridge is plentifully cultivated and planted; but, that to the South is bare of wood, and all sown with corn. In ancient days, the communication between the two havens, was marked by lights, placed on Corinthian columns. Of these, one remains entire on its pedestal, is built with a green and white marble, its capital adorned with figures of Syrens and Tritons, mixed with the Acanthus leaf, and upon it is a circular vase, which formerly held the fire. The whole kingdom of Naples cannot shew a more complete situation for trade; and yet it has neither commerce, husbandry, nor is it populous. From the obstructions in the channel of communication, between the outer and inner haven, arises the tribe of evils that desolate this unhappy town. Julius Coesar may be said to have begun its ruin, by attempting to block up Pompey's fleet. He drove piles into the neck of land, between the two ridges of hills; threw in earth, trees, and ruins of houses, and had nearly accomplished the blockade, when Pompey sailed out, and escaped to Greece. (See the plate, where the references are marked by birds.)

- 1. Roman way.

- 2. Castle.

- 3. Light-house.

- 4. Point of land where Julius Coesar formed the blockade.

- 5. The old way into the harbour.

- 6. The new way.

- 7. The castle of the Isle of St. Andrew.

- 8. The Atlantic.

BRINDIS ANCIENTLY BRUNDUSIUM.

In the fifteenth century, the prince of Tarento sunk some ships in the middle of the passage, to prevent the royalists from entering the port, which became a resting-place for sea-weeds and sand, and thus blocked up the passage. In 1752, the evil was increased, so as to prevent the waves beating through; and, from this period, the port became a fetid green lake; no fish but eels could live in it, nor any boat ply, except canoes of a single tree. The low grounds at each end were overflowed, and converted into marshes; which every summer created such a pestilence, as in a few years swept off the greatest part of its inhabitants. From the number of eighteen thousand, they were reduced in 1766, to five thousand livid wretches, tormented with agues and malignant fevers. In 1775, fifteen hundred died during the autumn. Well may Swinburne call this a woeful change of climate. Forty years ago, the air of Brindisi was esteemed so wholesome, that the convents of Naples used to send their consumptive friars here, for the recovery of their health. This induced the remaining citizens to apply for relief, to one of the kings, Marcestus, who was a native of the place, and the port has been re-opened in consequence. It will now admit large boats; the sea rushes in and out at all tides; and the canal, which is seven hundred yards long, in a direct line from the column, is cleared; its parapets defended by piles and fascines; and it is in contemplation to erect stone piers on each side. Sir William Hamilton says, in 1789, the canal is now so choaked up, as to have only seven feet in depth of of water, in many places, and the pestilential air is as prevalent as ever. The engineer who undertook to clear it failed; but another is appointed, who means to widen the canal to sixty-seven feet, and make it twenty-one feet deep; but there is every reason to fear, says Sir William, that the proposed remedy will prove ineffectual, and that this unfortunate city is doomed to speedy destruction. The workmen, in clearing the channel, have found some medals and seals, and have drawn up many piles, says Swinburne, that were driven in by Julius Coesar. They are small oaks, stripped of their bark, and still are as fresh as if they had been cut only a month; though buried, above eighteen centuries, seven feet under the sand. The soil about the town is light and good, produces excellent cotton, which is manufactured into gloves and stockings at Brindisi.

CHAP. IX. In Continuation.

THE next city, of any note, is Lecce; this lies between the North latitudes of 40 and 41 in the peninsula, called the heel of Italy; the breadth of which is about thirty miles. Lecce is on the Eastern coast, Gallipoli on the Western. The country here is open, interspersed with some coppices of small, jagged leaved oaks; the fields decorated with loose stone walks. The Adriatic sea, here, is not more than sixty miles over; the snowy tops, of the Grecian mountains, are, in a clear day, visible. The villages, in this peninsula, make a very pleasing appearance, the houses being built with white stone; but the churches are ornamented in a very barbarous style, and the face of the country is too rocky, and too bare of trees, corn, and grass, to be agreeable.

Lecce, the capital of Terra di Otranto, the seat of its tribunal, and the second city in the kingdom, is better paved and built, than any town in this province. If the builders here had the smallest taste, the buildings would make a noble figure; for the stone of the country is so fine, white, and soft, when taken from the quarry, that it may be moulded like wax, and will receive any form from the chisel; yet, when exposed to the air, becomes hard and durable; but the architecture here, says Swinburne, is cramped into such crowded, uncouth decorations, as to be far inferior to that of the Goths and Saracens. Many of the paintings in the churches, and houses of the nobility, are by Verrio, a native of Lecce, long employed in England; he died in 1707. The number of people here does not exceed thirteen thousand; very inadequate to the extent of the city, which has the reputation of being, to the kingdom of Naples, what Thebes was to Greece; and a native of Lecce, is said to be distinguishable from his fellow-subjects, by his heavy manner, and dull comprehension. It has, notwithstanding, an academy of Belles Lettres. Lecce is twenty-four miles from Brindisi, and is a bishoprick. Music is here cultivated with a degree of enthusiasm, and many of the nobility are good performers, and proud of exhibiting on solemn festivals. Leccean music has a very plaintive character, peculiar to itself.

Otranto is a small city, stands on a hill, and contains only three thousand inhabitants. Its harbour small, but convenient. The cathedral is Gothic, and, agreeable to the mode in Puglia, has a subterranean sanctuary. The columns are of beautiful marble, and granite; the pavement, a rude species of Mosaic, called Saracenic, like the tomb of Edward I. in Westminster-abbey. These mosaics are composed of pieces of porphyry, serpentine and cubes of gilt glass, disposed in stars, coiles, or chequers. The compartments of the halls are bordered with them; and the small twisted columns, that support the pulpits and canopies, are ornamented with a spiral shape of the same work.

Otranto was a Roman colony, and is an archbishop's see. It was invaded by the Turks in 1480, invested, stormed, and pillaged; its prelate was slain at the church door; eight hundred principal inhabitants dragged out of the gates and butchered, and their bodies left unburied for twelve months. Swinburne says, he was entertained here with the music of some of those itinerant performers, that play at Christmas, in the streets of Rome and Naples. Their native country is Basilicata, where the inhabitants of the Apennines learn, from their infancy, to raise the mattock with one hand, and play on the bagpipe, or flagelet, with the other. With these people, music is rather a talent awakened by necessity, than an act of pastime or luxury. Their usual employment is draining of lands; but as such work is not always needful, they travel with their musical instruments for a maintenance, all over Italy, France, and Spain. Some have gone as far as America, and brought back much wealth with them. Their concerts are generally composed of two musicians, who play in unison, with two long large bagpipes, one an octave higher than the other; whilst a third sounds a kind of hautboy; and, at the end of each ritornel, chants a rural ditty, to which the bagpipes play an accompaniment. The instruments are all made by the shepherds themselves, in those forms and sizes, which tradition has handed down to them, and experience has taught them to imitate.

Being in the country of the tarantula, Mr. Swinburne took some pains to investigate every particular respecting that insect; but could find no person bitten with it, the season of the year not being far enough advanced. He, however, prevailed on a woman, who had formerly been bitten, to act the part, and dance before him. Many musicians were summoned, and she performed it, as they all declared, to perfection. At first, she lolled stupidly on a chair, whilst the strains were dull; but, when the men touched the chord, supposed to vibrate to her heart, she sprang up with a hedious yell, staggered round the room like a person drunk, holding a handkerchief in both hands, raising them alternately, and moving in very true time. As the music grew brisker, her motions quickened, and she skipped about with great vigour, and variety of steps, every now and then shrieking very loud. Wherever a person bit is to dance, a place is prepared for them, hung round with ribbands, and bunches of grapes. The patients are dressed in white, with red, green, and yellow ribbands, these being the favourite colours; on their shoulders they cast a white scarf, let their hair fall loose about their ears, and throw their heads as far back as they can bear it. They are exact copies of the ancient priestesses of Bacchus. The orgies of that god, whose worship under various symbols was more widely spread over the globe, than that of any other divinity, were doubtless performed with energy and enthusiasm, by the lively inhabitants of this warm climate. The introduction of Christianity having abolished all these heathenish rites, and the women not daring to act any frantic part, as bacchantes, Swinburne is of opinion, that, unwilling to give up so darling an amusement, they devised other pretences. Accident may have led them to the discovery of the tarantula; and, on the strength of its poison, the Puglian dames still enjoy their old dance, though time has effaced the memory of its ancient name and institution. It has been proved that the tarantula is a harmless insect, and the insanity, said to be occasioned by its bite, and cured by music, is an imposition only on the credulous. It is a large spider with eight eyes, placed four, two, and two.

Gallipoli lies on the Eastern shore of the peninsula, about thirty miles from Otranto, in the gulph of Tarento. It stands on a rocky island, joined to the continent by a bridge, near which flows a fountain of very fine water. From the remotest antiquity, this station was so very favourable to commerce, that every maritime power wished to secure it; but, the crown of Naples has so deserted it, that it has neither harbour, nor shelter for shipping. Its inhabitants do not exceed six thousand; but they are easy in their circumstances, lively, merry, and, in general, well informed. The air is rather consumptive. The buildings are tolerable, and some of the churches have good paintings. Good muslins, cotton stockings, and other parts of apparel are here manufactured, and purchased by the Provencals. The cotton trade brings in about thirty thousand ducats yearly. Their wine is good, but oil is the great support of the place. Two-thirds of all olive plantations are exported to France and the north of Italy; the remainder is sent to Naples, and other Italian ports. In 1766, oil was exported to the value of one million of ducats.

The olive tree is, here, attended with the greatest care. The fruit is not gathered, but kept till it falls. The common method, of making oil, is to crush the olives to a paste, with a perpendicular millstone, running round a trough. This paste is put into flat, round, rush baskets, piled one upon another, and then put under a press. After the first pressing, scalding water is poured into each basket, its contents stirred up, and they are again pressed; and so repeatedly, till no more oil can be skimmed from the surface.

Tarento is the next city we shall mention, and shall dwell rather longer upon this, as affording more entertainment to our readers. It is nearly in the same latitude with Brindisi, only on the Western coast of the peninsula, about thirty miles from Brindisi. It is a seaport, at the upper end of the gulph of Tarento; and admits of reflections on the general vicissitudes of the fate of empires. Tarento, where now scarce a single fishing boat disturbs the bosom of its waters, is that where the trading vessels of half the world once rendezvoused; where the mighty navy of Carthage once displayed its flag. Of all the temples, gymnasia, theatres, and other monuments of glory and opulence, not so much as a single column rises on the hill where Tarentum once stood; which is on the left in the plate of the present town; the paltry buildings, of some mean convents, mark its ancient scite; whilst the modern city, crowded into a narrow island, holds the place of the old citadel, and still resembles a fortress, more than an emporium of trade; but, in spite of all this change, Tarento is still replete with wonderful beauties.

The present city stands upon a neck of land, divided from the opposite country by the sea of Piccolo, which runs from the gulph of Tarento by a narrow streight, six miles up into the country, forming a large oval lake, three miles wide, divided into two bays by a narrow promontory. Tarento is joined to the opposite land by a bridge of seven arches. Through these the tide flows with great impetuosity, and nothing now but small boats can be admitted, which, before the building of the bridge, was the entrance of the harbour. On this bridge is carried the aqueduct, that supplies the city with water from the opposite shore. This bay, and the city, is a delightful scene. Olive woods clothe the fine ground on both sides, and the opposite hills are rich in corn-fields and orchards. Over the city, and beyond the bridge, ships appear at anchor in the gulph, or outer port, and the blue mountains of Basilcata on the right, complete the prospect. (See the plate.)

VIEW of TARENTO from the SEA of PICCOLO.

The city of Tarento has not much to boast of. The streets are remarkably dirty, and narrow; particularly the Marina, which runs along the Mare Piccolo; and is, without dispute, the most disgustful habitation of human beings in Europe; except, perhaps, the Jesuits Ghetto at Rome. The only tolerable street is a terrace, above the steep rocks that hang over the gulph, or great sea, and prevent all access on that quarter. The cathedral has but little merit. The square, near the bridge, is the only opening of any extent, and the general resort of the citizens in summer, when they sit round the fountain, to enjoy the soft evening breeze, and refresh themselves with the fanning of the balmy air. In the hot summer months, the air is not very wholesome; but, the archbishop is studying every means to improve the place by cultivation, and other means. Swinburne was well entertained here. At the priory, he had, for supper, fifteen different sorts of shell-fish, all fat and savory; particularly a small muscle, tinged both within and without with the richest violet colour, and the shell covered with shag. This muscle is dragged for in the great sea, and then scattered on heaps of stones, sunk by the fishermen, at every head-land of the Mare Piccolo.

Brundusium was the great supply of oysters for the Roman tables. From that port, the spawn was carried to stock their public reservoirs at the Lucrine lake, near Baia; and no mention is made, by the ancients, of any Tarentine shellfish, except the scallop; but they have now ninety-three different sorts, all eatable; and oysters among the rest. Very fine branching coral is also found, along the East coast of this city; the places are kept a secret. The quantity may be judged of by a boat's crew, once drawing up, in one day, as much as sold for ninety-three pounds fifteen shillings English, that is five hundred ducats, each ducat three shillings and nine-pence sterling.

The seas of Tarento are as copiously stocked with the scaly and finny tribes, as with the crustaceous and testaceous. The people depend on their fishery for subsistence, and pay very heavy duties to the crown, and rents to private persons. The King receives 1700l. a-year for rent.

Never was a place more completely swept off the face of the earth than Tarentum, not a single ruin left; scarce a mark, that such a city ever existed on the spot; and yet we are well assured by historians, that a rival of Rome, once raised her proud towers, and arrayed her numerous armies along these now lonesome hills. Near the Alcantarine convent is a small hillock, wholly formed of the shells of fish, employed by the ancients in the composition of their celebrated purple dye; and, not far from it, are the remains of some reservoirs and conduits belonging to their work. Below the ruins of these reservoirs, the shore is thickly strewed with fragments of Etruscan vases; and a little nearer the city is the Argentaria, where the gold and silversmiths had their shops. It still deserves the name, from a number of medals, rings, chains, and other trinkets, constantly dug out of it.

The cotton manufacture employs these poor Tarentines, who are not able to be fishermen. The pay of a husbandman is a carline (fourpence halfpenny) a day. Cultivation goes on well; in some places the crops are divided between the landlord and the farmer: but the quantity of waste lands is incredible; and whatever pains they bestow on corn-lands, no one has an idea of improving either pasture or meadow. Not a seed is sown, not a weed destroyed, not a bush grubbed up.

I must not omit to mention the greatest curiosity, in this part of the world; which is a well, mentioned by Pliny in his second book. Juxta oppidum Manduriam lacus ad margines plenus, neque exhaustis aquis minuitur, neque enfusis augetur. "Near the town of Manduria, is a lake full to the brim, whose waters never diminish, nor increase by addition." This well Swinburne examined: it excites the admiration of the people as much now, as it did in ancient days. The water, in this circular cavern, lighted from above by a spacious aperture, never rises or falls beyond a certain mark. If as much rubbish be thrown in, as will fill it half-way up, it never rises the water above the mark; if the rubbish rises above the mark, the water disappears. Clear away the mud to the bottom, and you find a hard smooth floor, without any signs of a chasm for the water to run off. The water is good and supplies the town; of course, all experiments on it are forbidden.

Every baron in this country keeps a certain number of trusty, determined fellows, to protect his vassals, convey his rents, and prevent depredations on his game and forests. They howl by the side of his coach, to defend his person and baggage. The radknights, or radmen, kept by ancient barons, were of the same kind.

Notes

*
That is, "I intreat you to forsake as soon as possible, the corrupt coast of Baia; a coast most unfriendly to modest maidens."
↵

*
"The lopper shall sing to the winds under the lofty rock."
↵

DIRECTIONS for PLACING the PLATES OF VOL. X. XI. XII. XIII. XIV. and XV.

VOL. VII.

- PLAN of Quebec, to face the Title.

VOL. VIII.

- Death of Kouli Khan, to face the Title.

VOL. X.

- Map of the circle of Bavaria, to face PAGE 3

- Plan of Munich PAGE 7

- Map of the circle of Suabia PAGE 59

- Battle of the Storks PAGE 77

- Map of the circle of Westphalia PAGE 121

- Map of the circle of Burgundy PAGE 171

- Genevieve of Brabant PAGE 173

- Flemings, or the Water Doctor PAGE 234

- Map of Holland PAGE 245

- A Dutch Market PAGE 259

- Plan of Amsterdam PAGE 263

- Plan of Rotterdam PAGE 285

- Escape of Grotius PAGE 291

- Dutch Liberty PAGE 325

VOL. XI.

- Map of Europe PAGE 1

- North Hollanders PAGE 71

- A Dutch Trechschyt PAGE 72

- Death of the Prince of Orange PAGE 97

- Map of Turkey in Europe PAGE 140

- Environs of Constantinople PAGE 151

- Plan of Constantinople PAGE 160

- Mrs. Montague's visit to Fatima PAGE 287

- Turks in conversation. The square cap is the dress of a Janissary PAGE 321

- Turkish ladies bathing PAGE 330

VOL. XII.

- Map of Asia, to face the Title.

- A Turkish cemetery PAGE 49

- Tamerlane's triumph over Bajazet PAGE ••3

- Charles XII. of Sweden, and the Grand Vizier PAGE 187

- Map of the Crimea PAGE 232

- Map of Greece PAGE 347

- Ariadne's dance, and temple of Minerva at Athens PAGE 362

VOL. XIII.

- Map of the Archipelago PAGE 63

- People of Mycone, and a Greek boat PAGE 67

- Grecian Islanders of Naxus, Mitylene, and Scios PAGE 97

- Cypriots, or people of Cyprus PAGE 232

- A Greek lady and her suite PAGE 263

- The Pyrrhic dance PAGE 295

VOL. XIV.

- Map of Turkey in Asia, to face the Title

- Map of Asia-Minor PAGE 7

- Map of the Holy Land PAGE 56

- Dresses and people of Asia PAGE 164

- The Holy Sepulchre PAGE 175

- A view of Joppa and a Turkish boat PAGE 191

- Ruins of Balbec PAGE 202

- Mahomet's vision PAGE 206

- Interview between Prince Mourad and his father PAGE 328

- Almai, or dancing girls of Egypt; with a view of the pyramids PAGE 347

VOL. XV.

- Plundering a Caravan PAGE 24

- Inside of a pyramid PAGE 64

- Temple of Memnon PAGE 75

- Arabs of distinction PAGE 108

- Map of Italy PAGE 175

- Map of the kingdom of Naples PAGE 182

- Plan of the city of Naples PAGE 203

- Death of Conradine PAGE 206

- Insurrection of Massaniello PAGE 207

- Duke of Matalone maltreated PAGE 208

- Monks feeding the poor PAGE 250

- View of the bay of Naples PAGE 253

- Neapolitan peasants PAGE 254

- The death of Pliny, and Mount Vesuvius PAGE 337

- View of Brindisi, anciently Brundusium PAGE 367

- View of Tarento, from the sea of Piccolo PAGE 376

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The habitable world described: or the present state of the people in all parts of the globe, from north to south; shewing the situation, extent, climate, ... including all the new discoveries: ... With a great variety of maps and copper-plates, ... By the Rev. Dr. John Trusler. ... [pt.15]

Trusler, John, 1735-1820.

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1106020480

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9781106020482

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0161700115

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— The habitable world described: or the present state of the people in all parts of the globe, from north to south; shewing the situation, extent, climate, ... including all the new discoveries: ... With a great variety of maps and copper-plates, ... By the Rev. Dr. John Trusler. ..., Trusler, John, 1735-1820.. 20v.,plates : maps ; 8⁰. London :: printed for the author, at the Literary-Press, no. 62, Wardour-Street, Soho; and sold by all booksellers,. 1788-97.. [Vols. 1-3 dated 1788; 4-5, 1789; 6-8, 1790; 9-10, 1791; 11-12, 1792; 13-14, 1793; 15-16, 1794; 17-18, 1795; 19, 1796; 20, 1797.] [Each volume has an additional titlepage, engraved: 'The habitable world described. Inscribed by permission to .. Frederick, Duke of York, &c. &c.'.] [The engraved titlepages are dated: vols. 1-11, 1788; 12-15, 1790; 16-19, 1795.] [Vols. 16-18 bear the imprint: London, printed for the author, and sold by J. Parsons.] [Vols. 19-20 bear the imprint: London, printed for the author, and sold by L. Legoux.] [Reproduction of original from the British Library.] [English Short Title Catalog, ESTCT120079.] [Electronic data. Farmington Hills, Mich. : Thomson Gale, 2003. Page image (PNG). Digitized image of the microfilm version produced in Woodbridge, CT by Research Publications, 1982-2002 (later known as Primary Source Microfilm, an imprint of the Gale Group).]

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