Chapter XIV: Naples, 325 (12)

The gaudily painted stalls of the iced-water and lemonade dealers give warmth of color to the streets. There are several grades in the calling of _acquaiolo_ (water-seller). The lowest member of the craft is the peripatetic _acquaiolo_, who goes about furnished simply with a barrel of iced water strapped on his back, and a basket of lemons slung to his waist, and dispenses drinks at two centesimi a tumbler. It was thought that the completion of the Serino aqueduct, which provides the whole of Naples with excellent water at the numerous public fountains, would do away with the time-honored water-seller; but it seems that the poorer classes cannot do without a flavoring of some sort, and so this humble fraternity continue as a picturesque adjunct of the streets. These are only a few of the more striking objects of interest which the observer will not fail to notice in his walks through the city. But we must leave this fascinating occupation and turn to some of the regulation sights of Naples.

Though, in proportion to its size, Naples contains fewer sights and specific objects of interest than any other city in Italy, there are still a few public buildings and churches which the tourist should not neglect. There are quite half-a-dozen churches out of the twenty-five or thirty noticed by the guide-books which fully repay the trouble of visiting them. The Cathedral is in the old part of the town. Its chief interest lies in the gorgeous Chapel of St. Januarius, the patron saint of Naples. In a silver shrine under the richly decorated altar is the famous phial containing the coagulated blood of the saint. This chapel was built at the beginning of the seventeenth century, in fulfilment of a vow by the grateful populace in honor of the saint who had saved their city "from the fire of Vesuvius by the intercession of his precious blood." St. Januarius is held in the highest veneration by the lower classes of Naples, with whom the liquefaction ceremony, which takes place twice a year, is an article of faith in which they place the most implicit reliance. The history of the holy man is too well known to need repetition here. The numerous miracles attributed to him, and the legends which have grown round his name, would make no inconsiderable addition to the hagiological literature of Italy.

Of the other churches, Sta. Chiara, S. Domenico Maggiore, and S. Lorenzo are best worth visiting. In building Sta. Chiara the architect would seem to have aimed at embodying, as far as possible, the idea of the church militant, the exterior resembling a fortress rather than a place of worship. In accordance with the notions of church restoration which prevailed in the last century, Giotto's famous frescoes have been covered with a thick coating of whitewash, the sapient official who was responsible for the restoration considering these paintings too dark and gloomy for mural decoration. Now the most noteworthy objects in the church are the Gothic tombs of the Angevin kings.

The two churches of S. Domenico and S. Lorenzo are not far off, and the sightseer in this city of "magnificent distances" is grateful to the providence which has placed the three most interesting churches in Naples within a comparatively circumscribed area. S. Domenico should be visited next, as it contains some of the best examples of Renaissance sculpture in Naples as Sta. Chiara does of Gothic art. It was much altered and repaired in the course of the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries, but still remains one of the handsomest of the Neapolitan churches. Its most important monument is the marble group in relief of the Virgin, with SS. Matthew and John, by Giovanni da Nola, which is considered to be the sculptor's best work. The Gothic church of S. Lorenzo has fortunately escaped in part the disfiguring hands of the seventeenth century restorer. This church is of some literary and historical interest, Petrarch having spent several months in the adjoining monastery; and it was here that Boccaccio saw the beautiful princess immortalized in his tales by the name of Fiammetta.

In order to appreciate the true historical and geographical significance of Naples, we must remember that the whole of this volcanic district is one great palimpsest, and that it is only with the uppermost and least important inscription that we have hitherto concerned ourselves. To form an adequate idea of this unique country we must set ourselves to decipher the earlier-written inscriptions. For this purpose we must visit the National Museum, which contains rich and unique collections of antiquities elsewhere absolutely unrepresented. Here will be found the best treasures from the buried towns of Cumæ, Herculaneum, and Pompeii. The history of nearly a thousand years may be read in this vast necropolis of ancient art.

To many, however, the living present has a deeper interest than the buried past, and to these the innumerable beautiful excursions round Naples will prove more attractive than all the wealth of antiquities in the Museum. Certainly, from a purely æsthetic standpoint, all the best things in Naples are out of it if the bull may be allowed. To reach Pozzuoli and the classic district of Baiæ and Cumæ, we pass along the fine promenade of the Villa Nazionale, which stretches from the Castello dell' Ovo (the Bastille of Naples) to the Posilipo promontory, commanding, from end to end, superb unobstructed views of the Bay. Capri, the central point of the prospect, appears to change its form from day to day, like a fairy island. Sometimes, on a cloudless day, the fantastic outlines of the cliffs stand out clearly defined against the blue sea and the still bluer background of the sky; the houses are plainly distinguished, and you can almost fancy that you can descry the groups of idlers leaning over the parapet of the little piazza, so clear is the atmosphere. Sometimes the island is bathed in a bluish haze, and by a curious atmospheric effect a novel form of _Fata Morgana_ is seen, the island, appearing to be lifted out of the water and suspended between sea and sky.

The grounds of the Villa Nazionale are extensive, and laid out with taste, but are disfigured by inferior plaster copies, colossal in size, of famous antique statues. It is strange that Naples, while possessing some of the greatest masterpieces of ancient sculptors, should be satisfied with these plastic monstrosities for the adornment of its most fashionable promenade. The most interesting feature of the Villa Nazionale is the Aquarium. It is not merely a show place, but an international biological station, and, in fact, the portion open to the public consists only of the spare tanks of the laboratory. This institution is the most important of its kind in Europe, and is supported by the principal European Universities, who each pay for so many "tables."

At the entrance to the tunneled highway known as the Grotto di Posilipo, which burrows through the promontory that forms the western bulwark of Naples, and serves as a barrier to shut out the noise of that overgrown city, is a columbarium known as Virgil's Tomb. The guide-books, with their superior erudition, speak rather contemptuously of this historic spot as the "so-called tomb of Virgil." Yet historical evidence seems to point to the truth of the tradition which has assigned this spot as the place where Virgil's ashes were once placed. A visit to this tomb is a suitable introduction to the neighborhood of which Virgil seems to be the tutelary genius. Along the sunny slopes of Posilipo the poet doubtless occasionally wended his way to the villa of Lucullus, at the extreme end of the peninsula. Leaving the gloomy grotto, the short cut to Pozzuoli, on our right, we begin to mount the far-famed "Corniche" of Posilipo, which skirts the cliffs of the promontory. The road at first passes the fashionable Mergellina suburb, fringed by an almost uninterrupted series of villa gardens. This is, perhaps, one of the most beautiful drives in the South of Europe. Every winding discloses views which are at once the despair and the delight of the painter. At every turn we are tempted to stop and feast the eyes on the glorious prospect. Perhaps of all the fine views in and around Naples, that from the Capo di Posilipo is the most striking, and dwells longest in the memory. At one's feet lies Naples, its whitewashed houses glittering bright in the flood of sunshine. Beyond, across the deep blue waters of the gulf, Vesuvius, the evil genius of this smiling country, arrests the eye, from whose summit, like a halo,

"A wreath of light blue vapor, pure and rare,
Mounts, scarcely seen against the deep blue sky;

* * * * *

... It forms, dissolving there,
The dome, as of a palace, hung on high
Over the mountains."

Portici, Torre del Greco, and Torre del' Annunziata can hardly be distinguished in this densely populated fringe of coast-line, which extends from Naples to Castellamare. Sometimes at sunset we have a magnificent effect. This sea-wall of continuous towns and villages lights up under the dying rays of the sun like glowing charcoal. The conflagration appears to spread to Naples, and the huge city is "lit up like Sodom, as if fired by some superhuman agency." This atmospheric phenomenon may remind the imaginative spectator of the dread possibilities afforded by the proximity of the ever-threatening volcano towering _in terrorem_ over the thickly populated plain. There is a certain weird charm born of impending danger, which gives the whole district a pre-eminence in the world of imagination. It has passed through its baptism of fire; and who knows how soon "the dim things below" may be preparing a similar fate for a city so rashly situated? These dismal reflections are, however, out of place on the peaceful slopes of Posilipo, whose very name denotes freedom from care.

The shores of this promontory are thickly strewed with Roman ruins, which are seldom explored owing to their comparative inaccessibility. Most of the remains, theaters, temples, baths, porticoes, and other buildings, whose use or nature defies the learning of the antiquary, are thought to be connected with the extensive villa of the notorious epicure Vedius Polio. Traces of the fish-tanks for the eels, which Seneca tells us were fed with the flesh of disobedient slaves, are still visible. Descending the winding gradients of Posilipo, we get the first glimpse of the lovely little Bay of Pozzuoli. The view is curious and striking. So deeply and sharply indented is the coast, and so narrow and tortuous are the channels that separate the islands Ischia, Procida, and Nisida, that it is difficult to distinguish the mainland. We enjoy a unique panorama of land and sea, islands, bays, straits, capes, and peninsulas all inextricably intermingled.

Continuing our journey past the picturesque town of Pozzuoli, its semi-oriental looking houses clustered together on a rocky headland, like Monaco, we reach the hallowed ground of the classical student. No one who has read his Virgil or his Horace at school can help being struck by the constant succession of once familiar names scattered so thickly among the dry bones of the guide-books. The district between Cumæ and Pozzuoli is the _sanctum sanctorum_ of classical Italy, and "there is scarcely a spot which is not identified with the poetical mythology of Greece, or associated with some name familiar in the history of Rome." Leaving Pozzuoli, we skirt the Phlegræan Fields, which, owing to their malaria-haunted situation, still retain something of their ancient sinister character. This tract is, however, now being drained and cultivated a good deal. That huge mound on our right, looking like a Celtic sepulchral barrow, is Monte Nuovo, a volcano, as its name denotes, of recent origin. Geologically speaking, it is a thing of yesterday, being thrown up in the great earthquake of September 30th, 1538, when, as Alexandre Dumas graphically puts it, "One morning Pozzuoli woke up, looked around, and could not recognize its position; where had been the night before a lake was now a mountain." The lake referred to is Avernus, a name familiar to all through the venerable and invariably misquoted classical tag, _facilis descensus Averni_, etc. This insignificant-looking volcanic molehill is the key to the physical geography of the whole district. Though the upheaval of Monte Nuovo has altered the configuration of the country round, the depopulation of this deserted but fertile country is due, not to the crater, but to the malaria, the scourge of the coast. The scarcity of houses on the western horn of the Bay of Naples is very marked, especially when contrasted with the densely populated sea-board on the Castellamare side. Leaving Monte Nuovo we come to a still more fertile tract of country, and the luxuriant vegetation of these Avernine hills "radiant with vines" contrasts pleasingly with the gloomy land "where the dusky nation of Cimmeria dwells" of the poet. The mythological traditions of the beautiful plain a few miles farther on, covered with vineyards and olive-groves and bright with waving corn-fields, where Virgil has placed the Elysian Fields, seem far more appropriate to the landscape as we see it. Perhaps a sense of the dramatic contrast was present in the poet's mind when he placed the Paradiso and the Inferno of the ancients so near together.

Quite apart from the charm with which ancient fable and poetry have invested this district, the astonishing profusion of ruins makes it especially interesting to the antiquary. A single morning's walk in the environs of Baiæ or Cumæ will reveal countless fragmentary monuments of antiquities quite outside of the stock ruins of the guide-books, which the utilitarian instincts of the country people only partially conceal, Roman tombs serving as granaries or receptacles for garden produce, temples affording stable-room for goats and donkeys, amphitheaters half-concealed by olive-orchards or orange-groves, walls of ancient villas utilized in building up the terraced vineyards; and, in short, the trained eye of an antiquary would, in a day's walk, detect a sufficient quantity of antique material almost to reconstruct another Pompeii. But though every acre of this antiquary's paradise teems with relics of the past, and though every bay and headland is crowded with memories of the greatest names in Roman history, we must not linger in this supremely interesting district, but must get on to the other beautiful features of the Gulf of Naples.

Capri, as viewed from Naples, is the most attractive and striking feature in the Bay. There is a kind of fascination about this rocky island-garden which is felt equally by the callow tourist making his first visit to Italy, and by the seasoned traveller who knew Capri when it was the center of an art colony as well known as is that of Newlyn at the present day. No doubt Capri is now considered by super-sensitive people to be as hopelessly vulgarized and hackneyed as the Isle of Man or the Channel Isles, now that it has become the favorite picknicking ground of shoals of Neapolitan excursionists; but that is the fate of most of the beautiful scenery in the South of Europe, if at all easy of access. These fastidious minds may, however, find consolation in the thought that to the noisy excursionists, daily carried to and from Naples by puffing little cockle-shell steamers, the greater part of the island will always remain an undiscovered country. They may swarm up the famous steps of Anacapri, and even penetrate into the Blue Grotto, but they do not, as a rule, carry the spirit of geographical research farther.

The slight annoyance caused by the great crowds is amply compensated for by the beauties of the extraordinarily grand scenery which is to be found within the island desecrated by memories of that "deified beast Tiberius," as Dickens calls him. What constitutes the chief charm of the natural features of Capri are the sharp contrasts and the astonishing variety in the scenery. Rugged precipices, in height exceeding the cliffs of Tintagel, and in beauty and boldness of outline surpassing the crags of the grandest Norwegian fiords, wall in a green and fertile garden-land covered with orange-orchards, olive-groves, and corn-fields. Cruising round this rock-bound and apparently inaccessible island, it seems a natural impregnable fortress, a sea-girt Gibraltar guarding the entrance of the gulf, girdled round with precipitous crags rising a thousand feet sheer out of the sea, the cliff outline broken by steep ravines and rocky headlands, with outworks of crags, reefs, and Titanic masses of tumbled rocks.

These physical contrasts are strikingly paralleled in the history of the island. This little speck on the earth's surface, now given up solely to fishing, pastoral pursuits, and the exploitation of tourists, and as little affected by public affairs as if it were in the midst of the Mediterranean, instead of being almost within cannon-shot of the metropolis of South Italy, has passed through many vicissitudes, conquered in turn by Phoenicians, Greeks, and Romans; under Rome little known and used merely as a lighthouse station for the benefit of the corn-galleys plying from Sicily to Naples, till the old Emperor Augustus took a fancy to it, and used it as a sanatorium for his declining years. Some years later we find this isolated rock in the occupation of the infamous Tiberius, as the seat of government from which he ruled the destinies of the whole empire. Then, to run rapidly through succeeding centuries, we find Capri, after the fall of Rome, sharing in the fortunes and misfortunes of Naples, and losing all historic individuality till the beginning of the present century, when the Neapolitan Gibraltar became a political shuttlecock, tossed about in turn between Naples, England, and France; and now it complacently accepts the destiny Nature evidently marked out for it, and has become the sanatorium of Naples, and the Mecca of artists and lovers of the picturesque.

One cannot be many hours in Capri without being reminded of its tutelary genius Tiberius. In fact as Mr. A. J. Symonds has forcibly expressed it, "the hoof-print of illustrious crime is stamped upon the island." All the _religio loci_, if such a phrase is permissible in connection with Tiberius, seems centered in this unsavoury personality. We cannot get away from him. His palaces and villas seem to occupy every prominent point in the island. Even the treasure-trove of the antiquary bears undying witness to his vices, and shows that Suetonius, in spite of recent attempts to whitewash the Emperor's memory, did not trust to mere legends and fables for his biography. Even the most ardent students of Roman history would surely be glad to be rid of this forbidding spectre that forces itself so persistently on their attention. To judge by the way in which the simple Capriotes seek to perpetuate the name of their illustrious patron, one might almost suppose that the Emperor, whose name is proverbial as a personification of crime and vice, had gone through some process akin to canonization.

Capri, though still famous for beautiful women, whose classic features, statuesque forms, and graceful carriage, recall the Helens and the Aphrodites of the Capitol and Vatican, and seem to invite transfer to the painter's canvas, can no longer be called the "artist's paradise." The pristine simplicity of these Grecian-featured daughters of the island, which made them invaluable as models, is now to a great extent lost. The march of civilization has imbued them with the commercial instinct, and they now fully appreciate their artistic value. No casual haphazard sketches of a picturesque group of peasant girls, pleased to be of service to a stranger, no impromptu portraiture of a little Capriote fisher-boy, is now possible. It has become a "sitting" for a consideration, just as if it took place in an ordinary Paris atelier or a Rome studio. The idea that the tourist is a gift of Providence, sent for their especial benefit, to be looked at in the same light as are the "kindly fruits of the earth," recalls to our mind the quaint old Indian myth of Mondamin, the beautiful stranger, with his garments green and yellow, from whose dead body sprang up the small green feathers, afterwards to be known as maize. However, the Capriotes turn their visitors to better account than that; in fact, their eminently practical notions on the point appear to gain ground in this once unsophisticated country, while the recognized methods of agriculture remain almost stationary. The appearance of a visitor armed with sketch-book or camera is now the signal for every male and female Capriote within range to pose in forced and would-be graceful attitudes, or to arrange themselves in unnatural conventional groups: aged crones sprout up, as if by magic, on every doorstep; male loungers "lean airily on posts"; while at all points of the compass bashful maidens hover around, each balancing on her head the indispensable water-jar. These vulgarizing tendencies explain why it is that painters are now beginning to desert Capri.

But we are forgetting the great boast of Capri, the Blue Grotto. Everyone has heard of this famous cave, the beauties of which have been described by Mr. A. J. Symonds in the following graphic and glowing picture in prose: Entering the crevice-like portal, "you find yourself transported to a world of wavering, subaqueous sheen. The grotto is domed in many chambers; and the water is so clear that you can see the bottom, silvery, with black-finned fishes diapered upon the blue-white sand. The flesh of a diver in this water showed like the face of children playing at snap-dragon; all around him the spray leaped up with living fire; and when the oars struck the surface, it was as though a phosphorescent sea had been smitten, and the drops ran from the blades in blue pearls." It must, however, be remembered that these marvels can only be perfectly seen on a clear and sunny day, and when, too, the sun is high in the sky. Given these favorable conditions, the least impressionable must feel the magic of the scene, and enjoy the shifting brilliancy of light and color. The spectators seem bathed in liquid sapphire, and the sensation of being enclosed in a gem is strange indeed. But we certainly shall not experience any such sensation if we explore this lovely grotto in the company of the noisy and excited tourists who daily arrive in shoals by the Naples steamer. To appreciate its beauties the cave must be visited alone and at leisure.

Those who complain of the village of Capri being so sadly modernized and tourist-ridden will find at Anacapri some of that Arcadian simplicity they are seeking, for the destroying (æsthetically speaking) fingers of progress and civilization have hardly touched this secluded mountain village, though scarcely an hour's walk from the "capital" of the island.

We will, of course, take the famous steps, and ignore the excellently engineered high-road that winds round the cliffs, green with arbutus and myrtle, in serpentine gradients, looking from the heights above mere loops of white ribbon. Anacapri is delightfully situated in a richly cultivated table-land, at the foot of Monte Solaro. Climbing the slopes of the mountain, we soon reach the Hermitage, where we have a fine bird's-eye view of the island, with Anacapri spread out at our feet, and the town of Capri clinging to the hillsides on our right. But a far grander view rewards our final climb to the summit. We can see clearly outlined every beautiful feature of the Bay of Naples, with its magnificent coast-line from Misenum to Sorrento in prominent relief almost at our feet, and raising our eyes landwards we can see the Campanian Plain till it is merged in the purple haze of the Apennines. To the south the broad expanse of water stretches away to the far horizon, and to the right this incomparable prospect is bounded by that "enchanted land" where

"Sweeps the blue Salernian bay,
With its sickle of white sand."

and on a very clear day we can faintly discern a purple, jagged outline, which shows where "Pæstum and its ruins lie."

In spite of the undeniable beauties of Capri, it seems so given up to artists and amateur photographers that it is a relief to get away to a district not quite so well known. We have left to the last, as a fitting climax, the most beautiful bit of country, not only in the neighborhood of Naples, but in the whole of South Italy. The coast-road from Castellamare to Sorrento, Positano, and Amalfi offers a delightful alternation and combination of the softest idyllic scenery with the wildest and most magnificent mountain and crag landscape. In fact, it is necessary to exercise some self-restraint in language and to curb a temptation to rhapsodize when describing this beautiful region. The drive from Naples to Castellamare is almost one continuous suburb, and the change from this monotonous succession of streets of commonplace houses to the beautiful country we reach soon after leaving the volcanic district at Castellamare is very marked. In the course of our journey we cannot help noticing the bright yellow patches of color on the beach and the flat house-tops. This is the wheat used for the manufacture of macaroni, of which Torre dell' Annunziata is the great center. All along the road the houses, too, have their loggias and balconies festooned with the strips of finished macaroni spread out to dry. All this lights up the dismal prospect of apparently never-ending buildings, and gives a literally local color to the district. There is not much to delay the traveller in Castellamare, and soon after leaving the overcrowded and rather evil-smelling town we enter upon the beautiful coast-road to Sorrento. For the first few miles the road runs near the shore, sometimes almost overhanging the sea. We soon get a view of Vico, picturesquely situated on a rocky eminence. The scenery gets bolder as we climb the Punta di Scutola. From this promontory we get the first glimpse of the beautiful Piano di Sorrento. It looks like one vast garden, so thickly is it covered with vineyards, olive groves, and orange and lemon orchards, with an occasional aloe and palm tree to give an Oriental touch to the landscape. The bird's-eye view from the promontory gives the spectator a general impression of a carpet, in which the prevailing tones of color are the richest greens and gold. Descending to this fertile plateau, we find a delightful blending of the sterner elements of the picturesque with the pastoral and idyllic. The plain is intersected with romantic, craggy ravines and precipitous, tortuous gorges, resembling the ancient stone quarries of Syracuse, their rugged sides covered with olives, wild vines, aloes, and Indian figs. The road to Amalfi here leaves the sea and is carried through the heart of this rich and fertile region, and about three miles from Sorrento it begins to climb the little mountain range which separates the Sorrento plain from the Bay of Salerno.

We can hardly, however, leave the level little town, consecrated to memories of Tasso, unvisited. Its flowers and its gardens, next to its picturesque situation, constitute the great charm of Sorrento. It seems a kind of garden-picture, its peaceful and smiling aspect contrasting strangely with its bold and stern situation. Cut off, a natural fortress, from the rest of the peninsula by precipitous gorges, like Constantine in Algeria, while its sea-front consists of a precipice descending sheer to the water's edge, no wonder that it invites comparison with such dissimilar towns as Grasse, Monaco, Amalfi and Constantine, according to the aspect which first strikes the visitor. After seeing Sorrento, with its astonishing wealth of flowers, the garden walls overflowing with cataracts of roses, and the scent of acacias, orange and lemon flowers pervading everything, we begin to think that, in comparing the outlying plain of Sorrento to a flower-garden, we have been too precipitate. Compared with Sorrento itself, the plain is but a great orchard or market-garden. Sorrento is the real flower-garden, a miniature Florence, "the village of flowers and the flower of villages."

We leave Sorrento and its gardens and continue our excursion to Amalfi and Salerno. After reaching the point at the summit of the Colline del Piano, whence we get our first view of the famous Isles of the Syrens, looking far more picturesque than inviting, with their sharp, jagged outline, we come in sight of a magnificent stretch of cliff and mountain scenery. The limestone precipices extend uninterruptedly for miles, their outline broken by a series of stupendous pinnacles, turrets, obelisks, and pyramids cutting sharply into the blue sky-line. The scenery, though so wild and bold is not bleak and dismal. The bases of these towering precipices are covered with a wild tangle of myrtle, arbutus, and tamarisk, and wild vines and prickly pears have taken root in the ledges and crevices. The ravines and gorges which relieve the uniformity of this great sea-wall of cliff have their lower slopes covered with terraced and trellised orchards of lemons and oranges, an irregular mass of green and gold. Positano, after Amalfi, is certainly the most picturesque place on these shores, and, being less known, and consequently not so much reproduced in idealized sketches and "touched up" photographs as Amalfi, its first view must come upon the traveller rather as a delightful surprise. Its situation is curious. The town is built along each side of a huge ravine, cut off from access landwards by an immense wall of precipices. The houses climb the craggy slopes in an irregular ampitheater, at every variety of elevation and level, and the views from the heights above give a general effect of a cataract of houses having been poured down each side of the gorge. After a few miles of the grandest cliff and mountain scenery we reach the Capo di Conca, which juts out into the bay, dividing it into two crescents. Looking west, we see a broad stretch of mountainous country, where

"... A few white villages
Scattered above, below, some in the clouds,
Some on the margins of the dark blue sea,
And glittering through their lemon groves, announce
The region of Amalfi."

To attempt to describe Amalfi seems a hopeless task. The churches, towers, and arcaded houses, scattered about in picturesque confusion on each side of the gigantic gorge which cleaves the precipitous mountain, gay with the rich coloring of Italian domestic architecture, make up an indescribably picturesque medley of loggias, arcades, balconies, domes, and cupolas, relieved by flat, whitewashed roofs. The play of color produced by the dazzling glare of the sun and the azure amplitude of sea and sky gives that general effect of light, color, sunshine, and warmth of atmosphere which is so hard to portray, either with the brush or the pen. Every nook of this charming little rock-bound Eden affords tempting material for the artist, and the whole region is rich in scenes suggestive of poetical ideas.

When we look at the isolated position of this once famous city, shut off from the rest of Italy by a bulwark of precipices, in places so overhanging the town that they seem to dispute its possession with the tideless sea which washes the walls of the houses, it is not easy to realize that it was recognized in mediæval times as the first naval Power in Europe, owning factories and trading establishments in all the chief cities of the Levant, and producing a code of maritime laws whose leading principles have been incorporated in modern international law. No traces remain of the city's ancient grandeur, and the visitor is tempted to look upon the history of its former greatness as purely legendary.

The road to Salerno is picturesque, but not so striking as that between Positano and Amalfi. It is not so daringly engineered, and the scenery is tamer. Vietri is the most interesting stopping-place. It is beautifully situated at the entrance to the gorge-like valley which leads to what has been called the "Italian Switzerland," and is surrounded on all sides by lemon and orange orchards. Salerno will not probably detain the visitor long, and, in fact, the town is chiefly known to travellers as the starting-place for the famous ruins of Pæstum.

These temples, after those of Athens, are the best preserved, and certainly the most accessible, of any Greek ruins in Europe, and are a lasting witness to the splendor of the ancient Greek colony of Poseidonia (Pæstum). "_Non cuivis homini contingit adire Corinthum_," says the poet, and certainly a visit to these beautiful ruins will make one less regret the inability to visit the Athenian Parthenon. Though the situation of the Pæstum Temple lacks the picturesque irregularity of the Acropolis, and the Temple of Girgenti in Sicily, these ruins will probably impress the imaginative spectator more. Their isolated and desolate position in the midst of this wild and abandoned plain, without a vestige of any building near, suggest an almost supernatural origin, and give a weird touch to this scene of lonely and majestic grandeur. There seems a dramatic contrast in bringing to an end at the solemn Temples of Pæstum our excursion in and around Naples. We began with the noise, bustle, and teeming life of a great twentieth-century city, and we have gone back some twenty-five centuries to the long-buried glory of Greek civilization.

INDEX

A

Aboukir, and Nelson's victory, 253-255

About, Edmond, on the importance of Marseilles, 95

Abruzzi Mountains, 326

Aba-Abul-Hajez, builder of Moorish Castle, Gibraltar, 15

Abyla, Phoenician name of Ceuta, 26

Aci Castello, 300

Aci Reale, 300

Acis and Galatea, 300

Æneas and the games at Trapani, 318

Africa, "Crystal atmosphere" of, 5

Agate Cape, 57

Agay, 148

Agnone, 302

Alameda Gardens, Gibraltar, 13

Alassio, 159

Alban, Mont, 143

Alcantara, Valley of the, 300

Alexander the Great, founding Alexandria, 237

Alexandria, 96;
appearance from the sea, 235;
historical interest, 236;
Alexander's choice of the site, 237;
harbor, 238;
main street, 240;
Grand Square, 241;
Palace of Ras-et-teen, 243;
view from Mount Caffarelli and the Delta, 244;
Pompey's Pillar, 246;
Library, 247;
the Serapeum, cemeteries, mosques, Coptic convent, and historic
landmarks, 248;
defeat of Antony, and Napoleon, 251;
Ramleh, 251;
Temple of Arsenoe, 252;
Aboukir Bay and Nelson, 253, 254;
Rosetta, Haroun Al Rashid, and the English expedition of 1807, 256;
fertility of the Delta, 258;
Cairo and the rising of the Nile, 260;
Damietta, 261;
Port Said, 261, 262;
ruins of Pelusium, 263;
Suez Canal and M. de Lesseps, 264

Algeciras, 4, 23, 24

Algeria, 78, 97

Algiers, 96, 123;
"a pearl set in emeralds," 28;
the approach to, and the Djurjura, 29;
the Sahel, Atlas, and the ancient and modern towns, 30;
cathedral and mosque, 31;
tortuous plan of the new town, 33, 34;
Mustapha Supérieur, and English colony, 35, 37;
a Moorish villa, 38;
view from El Biar, Arab cemetery, and idolatry, 39;
superstitions and climate, 41

Alhendin, 59

Ali, Mehemet, 239;
his works in Alexandria, 241, 242;
destroys English troops at Rosetta, 257

Almeria, 55, 56, 57

Alps, The, 131;
the Julian, 147, 148, 154

Alpujarras, The, 44, 55

Altinum, 231

Amalfi, 345, 347, 349

Amru, 236

Amsterdam and its canals, 219

Anacapri, 344

Anchises, 318

André, St., 139, 143

Angelo, Michael, and the marble quarries at Seravezza, 197

Ansedonia, 211

Antibes, 96, 147, 151, 152

Antipolis, 151

Antony, Mark, defeated by Octavius at Mustapha Pacha, 251

Apes' Hill, English designation of Ceuta, 26

Aquæ Sextiæ, or Aix, Roman colony on the site of Marseilles, 109

Arabic legend and the Moorish Castle, Gibraltar, 15

Aragon, Kings of, Palace of the, at Barcelona, 67, 83

Arbiter, Petronius, 122

Aristophanes, and the sausage-seller, 148

Arles, 110

Arsenoe, Temple of, and the story related by Catullus, 252

Aryan Achæans, 108

Aryan and Semite struggle against Christianity and Mohammedanism, 4

Athanasius at Alexandria, 236

Athens, 96

Atlantic, Ideas of ancient Greeks respecting the, 2

Atlas, Mount, 29

Attard, "village of roses," 291

Attila, 233

Augustine, St., and the angel, 213;
at St. Honorat, 150

Augustus, and Turbia, 153

Autran, Joseph, 122

Avenza, 195

Avernus, 338

Avignon, 96

B

Bab-el-Sok, gate of the market-place at Tangier, 6

Baiæ, 339

Balzac, witty remark on dinners in Paris, 89

Balzan, 291

Barbaroux, 122

Barcelona, 21, 95, 123;
eulogy of Cervantes, the promenades and the people, 61;
funerals, and the flower-market, 62;
streets, Rambla, and cathedral, 65;
Palais de Justice, and Parliament House, 66;
Palace of the kings of Aragon, 67;
museum, park, and monuments to Prim and Columbus, 69;
bird's-eye view, Fort of Montjuich, Mont Tibidaho, 70;
cemetery and mode of burial, 71;
festival of All Saints, 72;
Catalonia, and the church of Santa Maria del Mar, 74;
organ in cathedral, and the suburbs, 77;
Gracia, 77;
Sarria, 78;
Barceloneta, 79;
Academy of Arts, schools, music, the University, and workmen's clubs,
80;
Archæological Society, primary education, and places of amusement, 82;
history of, 83;
trade, healthful properties, and charitable institutions, 84;
churches, convents, electric lighting, population, and Protestantism,
86;
democracy, and holidays of, 87;
Mariolatry, 88;
Caballaro, 89;
climate, 90;
hotels, 90;
good looks of the men and women, the police, 92;
progressive tendencies, the post-office and passports, 93

Barco, Hamilcar, founder of Barcelona, 82

Barral des Baux, 121

Barthélemy, 122

Baths of Barcelona, 90;
of Cleopatra, 250;
of Caratraca, 44

Bay of Biscay, 1

"Belgium of the East," The, 251

Bellet, Le, 139

Belzunce, Monseigneur, and the plague at Marseilles, 113, 114

Bentinck, Lord W., and his attack on Genoa, 166

Bérenger, 122

Berenice, and the Temple of Arsenoe, 252

Bighi, 288

Boabdil, last king of Granada, 59

Boccaccio, and the church of St. Lorenzo, Naples, 232

Bordighera, 158

Boron, Mont, 125

Bouchard, M., and the Egyptian stone at Rosetta, 257

Britain, and Tangier, 4;
and the acquisition of Gibraltar, 22

Browning, Robert, and Gibraltar, 6

Bruèys, Admiral, defeated by Nelson at Aboukir Bay, 254

Buena Vista, Gibraltar, 14, 23

Bull-fights at Barcelona, 82, 87;
at Malaga, 54

Burgundians, The, 109

Burmola, 289

Byng, Rear-Admiral, and the siege of Gibraltar, 22

C

Cabo de Bullones, Spanish name of Ceuta, 26

Cadiz Bay, 6

Café at Gibraltar, 11

Cagliari, 96

Cairo, 258;
rising of the Nile, 260

Cala Dueira, 271

Calpe, Rock of (Gibraltar), 2, 14

Camaldoli hills, 326

Campyses, at Pelusium, 262

Canal, Grand, at Venice, 222-228

Cannes, 125, 130;
"a Babel set in Paradise," 150;
principal streets, and origin, 151;
fortifications of Vauban, and Roman remains, 152

Capraja, 207

Capri, 326;
changes in appearance, 334;
its fascination, 339;
historical associations, 340;
palaces of Tiberias, 341;
its beautiful women, 342;
Blue Grotto, 343

Carabacel, 127, 138

Caratraca, Baths of, 44, 50

Carinthia, Dukes of, 233

Carlos, Don, and the rising in Barcelona, 84

Carnival at Nice, 133

Carqueyranne, 147

Carrara, church of St. Andrea, and the marble quarries, 196;
mosquitos, 197

Cartama, 51

Carthagenians, and Genoa, 162;
destruction of Selinus, 319

Casal Curmi, 291

Casal Nadur, 273

Cassian, St., and the monastery of St. Victor, Marseilles, 116

Castellaccio, Fort of, 297

Castellamare, 345

Castiglione della Pescaia, 209

Castile, 25

Castle, Moorish, at Gibraltar, 15

Catacombs at Alexandria, 249

Catania, 302

Cathedral, at Gibraltar, 13;
at Marseilles, 98;
at Genoa, 80;
at Barcelona, 65;
at Nice, 129;
at Almeria, 57;
at Algiers, 31;
at Pisa, 194;
St. Mark's, Venice, 224-226

Catullus, and his story relating to the temple of Arsenoe, 252

Cemetery at Alexandria, 248

Cervantes, eulogium on Barcelona, 61

Ceuta, 17;
origin of name and history of, 25;
main features of, 26;
ancient names, and shape of rock, 26

Champollion, M., and the Egyptian stone at Rosetta, 258

Charles Albert, King of Sardinia, and his palace at Genoa, 172

"Charles III., King," 21, 22

Charles V., 20

Château d'If, 105

Chiavari, 186

Chioggia, 230

Cholera, The, at Marseilles, 112

Cimiez, 127, 138;
monastery and amphitheatre of, 139, 142

Civita Vecchia, its founder and history, 213

Cleopatra, and Antony, at Alexandria, 236;
Baths of, at Alexandria, 250

Cleopatra's Needle, 246

Columbus, Monument to, at Genoa, 177;
monument at Barcelona, 69;
his reception at Barcelona by Ferdinand and Isabella, 69, 83

Cominetto, 270

Comino, 268, 272

Concha, General, and the sugar-cane industry of Malaga, 51

Constantinople, 95

Contes, 139

Convent, Coptic, at Alexandria, 248

Coneto, "lifts to heaven a diadem of towers," 212;
churches, Etruscan and Roman antiquities, and origin, 213

Cornigliano, 147

Corno, Remains of, 212

Corradino, 288

Cosspicua, 289

Cremation suggested for adoption in Barcelona, 71

Cressy, Battle of, 179

Cumæ, 333, 339

Cyclops, The, and the Scogli dei Ciclopi, 301

Cyrus, 94

D

Damanhour, 258

Damietta, 261

Darby, Admiral, and the siege of Gibraltar, 18

Delord, Taxile, 122

Delta, Egyptian, Fertility of the, 258

Djama-el-Kebir, Mosque at Tangier of the, 6

Djurjura, The, 29

Don, General, and the Alameda Gardens, Gibraltar, 13

Doria, Andrea, and his influence in Genoa, 164, 173;
incidents in his life, 176

Drinkwater, Captain John, and the siege of Gibraltar, 18

Dumas, Alexandre, allusion to Pozzuoli, 338

D'Urfé, 122

E

"Eagle-Catchers," The (87th Regiment), 4

Edward, son of King John of Portugal, and his expedition against
Tangier, 25

Egypt, variety of interest connected with, 238;
inscribed stone at Rosetta, 257;
agricultural wealth of, 258;
the "gift of the Nile," 259;
English expedition of 1807, 256

Elba, quarries and mines of, 203;
Napoleon's confinement, plans for improving the island, and his
escape, 203-206

El Hacho, signal-tower at Gibraltar, 16, 26

Elliot, General, Monument at Gibraltar to, 13;
the siege of Gibraltar, 17, 18

English statuary, Defective, 13

Eryx, 318

Esparto grass, 56

Espérandieu, and the church of Notre Dame de la Garde, Marseilles, 117

Estepona, 23

Estérel, The, 148, 150

Etna, 295-303

Etruscans, The, 211

Euganean Hills, The, 230

Eugénie, Empress, Spanish origin of, 55

Euroklydon, The, at Malta, 270

Europa Point, Gibraltar, 13;
cottage at, 14, 18

Euthymenes, 97;
statue at Marseilles, 100

F

Falicon, 139, 144

Famine at Genoa, 165

Ferdinand, Don, and the Portuguese at Ceuta, 25

Ferdinand and Isabella, reception of Columbus at Barcelona, 69, 83

Ferdinand IV., 317

Ferrat, Cape, 141

Fiescho, Count, 177

Filfla, 271

Flower Market, at Marseilles, 102;
at Barcelona, 63

Follonica, 209

Folquet, 121

Formica, 209

Fortifications of Gibraltar, 16;
of Genoa, 164;
of Cannes, 152;
Ventimiglia, 157

Fortuny, his paintings at Barcelona, 66, 80

Fossa Claudia, 230

France, and the siege of Gibraltar, 16;
captures Genoa, 164;
and Barcelona, 84

Fraser, General, and the English expedition to Egypt of 1807, 256

Frejus, Gulf of, 147

Funeral at Venice, A, 229

Funerals at Barcelona, 75

G

Galliera, Duchess of, and the Palazzo Rosso, Genoa, 172

Garibaldi, Birthplace of, 126;
crossing Calabria, 298;
landing at Marsala, 318

Genoa, once a rival of Venice, 160;
its detractors, 161;
the beauty of its women, 162;
history, 163, 164;
old and new towns, 166;
position, and view from the slopes, 166;
mediæval churches, narrowness of streets, and the _palazza_, 168;
the Via Nuova, 170;
Fergusson on the architecture of, 171;
the Palazzo Ducale, and the Statue of Hercules, 172, 173;
incidents in the life of Doria, 176;
monument to Columbus, 177;
the "old dogana," 179;
the Exchange, trade in coral, precious metals, and filigree work, 180;
the cathedral, 180;
reputed origin of, 182;
church of L'Annunziata, and the Campo Santo, 182;
the environs, 184;
meeting-place of the Rivieras, 185;
railway to Spezzia, and places on the coast, 187

George I., and Gibraltar, 22

Giardini, 298

Gibel Mo-osa, Moorish name of Ceuta, 26

Gibraltar, 4;
Robert Browning's reference to, 6;
resemblance to a lion, 7;
landing at, 8;
variety of nationalities at, 10;
picturesqueness, 10;
population, 11;
strict military regulations, and chief objects of interest, 12, 13;
Moorish Castle, 15;
fortifications, 16;
siege of, 16-19;
capitulation to the Prince of Hesse, 22;
the "key of the Mediterranean," 21

Girgenti, "City of Temples," monuments of Pagan worship, and Pindar's
designation, 307;
Temple of Concord, 309;
Temple of Hercules, ravages of earthquakes, and Shelley's allusion in
"Ozymandias," 311, 312

Golfe de la Napoule, 148

Gondolas of Venice, 222

Gothard, St., 228

Gough, Colonel, his defeat of Marshal Victor at Tarifa, 4

Government House at Gibraltar, 23

Gozo, 270, 272, 273

Granada, 17, 59

Greeks, at Gibraltar, 10;
their trade at Marseilles, 106, 109, 110

Grimaldi, The, 179

Gros, Mont, 139

Grosseto, 209

Grotto, at Malta and St. Paul, 293;
of Sta. Rosalia, 317;
Di Posilipo, 335;
at Capri, 343

Guelphs, The, and Genoa, 163

Guzman, Alonzo Perez de, and his act of defiance at Tarifa, 4

Gzeier, 271

H

Hamilcar Barca, and Pellegrino, 317

Hamrun, 291

Harbor of Marseilles, 106

Haroun al Rashid, reputed birthplace, 256

Hepaticas, Valley of, 139

"Hercules, Pillars of," 1, 2, 5, 17

Hercules and Temple at Girgenti, 311;
Temple at Selinunto, 319

Hesse, Prince of, and the acquisition of Gibraltar, 22

Hicks, Captain, and the siege of Gibraltar, 22

Hieroglyphics, Egyptian, at Rosetta, 257

Hiram, and Malaga, 46

Homeric era, "Pillars of Hercules" in the, 2

Honorat, St., 149

Hougoumont, Château of, 15

Hyères, 96, 146

Hypatia at Alexandria, 236

I

Iberian race of Genoa, 162

Imtarfa, 292

Ischia, 326

Islands of the Blest, 2

Israfel, The Angel, and a belief of the Moslems, 249

Ivory on houses in Tangier, 5

J

Jews, at Gibraltar, 10

John of Portugal, King, takes Ceuta from the Moors, 25

Joseph of Arimathea, and the _sacro catino_ at Genoa, 181

Jumper, Captain, and the siege of Gibraltar, 20

Jupiter, Temple of, at Ortygia, 304

K

Keats, Grave of, 194

L

La Haye, Farmhouse of, 15

La Mortola, Point, 157

_Laguna Morta_, The, at Venice, 230

Landslip at Roquebrune, 156

Lane-Poole, Mr. Stanley, and the Nile, 259

Las Palmas, 296

Lazarus, Legend respecting, at Marseilles, 116

Leghorn, its dullness, 163;
history, and canals, 201;
streets, harbor, trade, statue of Ferdinand, and burial-place of,
Smollett, 202

Lentini, 302

Leo, The constellation, and Berenice's locks, 252

Lepanto, Battle of, 221

Lerici, and Shelley's last days, 192

Lérins, Vincent de, at St. Honorat, 149

Lesseps, M. de, and the Suez Canal, 264

Lia, 291

Library, Garrison, at Gibraltar, 13;
at Alexandria, 247

Lighthouse of Ta Giurdan, 272

Liguria, noted for the cunning of its people, 162

Ligurian Sea, 146

Limpia, Harbor and village of, 127

Lion of St. Mark at Venice, 226

Lisbon, 21

Louis XIV., 97;
and the storming of Barcelona, 83

Luna, Remains of, 194

Lyons, Climate of, 90

M

Macgregor, Mr. John (Rob Roy), and the ruins of Tanis, 263

Magnan, The, 139

Malaga, 95;
rapid development, 43;
climate, general appearance, and convenient position for excursions,
44;
the Alpujarras, 44;
Phoenician origin, 46;
history, 48;
water supply, 48;
the vineyards, 50;
sugar industry, 51;
Castle, Grecian Temple, and the Alcazaba, 51;
attractiveness of the women, 54;
harbor, 53;
Almeria, 55;
Cape de Gatt, 57;
the Sierra Tejada, the Sierra Nevada, 58;
Trevelez and Alhendin, 59;
Lanjaron, the Muley Hacen, and the Picacho, 60

Malamocco, 230

Malta, 267;
"England's eye in the Mediterranean," 267;
formerly a peninsula of Africa, and its fertility, 268;
Gozo, Comino, and Cominetto, and the _Fungus Melitensis_, 270;
the Gozitans, 272

Man with the Iron Mask, 149

Maremma, The, 209

Marengo, Battle of, 165

Marfa, 274

Marguerite, Ste., 145

Mariette Bey and the ruins of Tanis, 263, 264

Mark, St., at Alexandria, 236;
reputed place of burial, 250;
Lion at Venice, 224

Marriages of Greeks at Marseilles, 107

Marsala, 318

Marseilles;
its Greek origin, and importance as the capital of the Mediterranean,
94;
history, 96, 109;
appearance from the sea, 97;
the Old Port and the Cannebière, 98, 99;
the Bourse, promenades, and statues of Pytheas and Euthymenes, 100;
flower market and the Prado, 102;
the Corniche road and _bouillabaisse_, 103, 104;
Public Garden, Château d'If, and the quays, 105;
harbors, Greek merchants, and marriage customs, 106-108;
Greek type in the physique of the people, 109;
hotels, cholera, plague, and the _mistral_, 112, 113;
Palais des Arts and the Church of St. Victor, 115, 116;
Church of Notre Dame de la Garde, 117;
Chain of Estaques, fortress, and people, 119;
birthplace of distinguished men, 121;
its proud position, 123

Martin, Cap, 156

Mary, The Virgin, image at St. Victor's, Marseilles, 119

Mascaron, 122

Massa, Quarries and palace at, 197

Massena, General, at Genoa, 165

Mediterranean, The deep interest connected with the cities and ruins on
the shores of the, 2;
Tarifa, 3, 4;
Tangier, 4-6;
Gibraltar, 6-18;
Algeciras, San Roque, and Estepona, 23;
Ceuta, 25, 26;
Marseilles, 94-123;
Genoa, 160-191;
Barcelona, 61-93;
Alexandria, 234-264;
Nice, 124-144;
Malta, 267-294;
Malaga, 42-60;
Algiers, 28-41;
Tuscan Coast, 192-218;
Sicily, 295-324;
Naples, 325-350;
Venice, 219-233;
The Riviera, 145-159

Megara, Bay of, 303

Mentone, 103;
mountain paths, 125, 131;
walks and drives at, 157, 158

Menzaleh, Lake, 262, 263

Mery, 122

Messina, route from Naples, 295;
general appearance, trade, cathedral, university, etc., 297

Minden, 19

Mirabeau imprisoned at Château d'If, 105

Misada, 291

_Mistral_, The, 112;
at Nice, 131

Mole at Gibraltar, 9, 14, 15, 20

Monaco, description of, 153, 155

Monreale, Cathedral and Abbey of, 316

Monte Carlo, 131;
its beauty, 155

Monte-Cristo and Château d'If, 105

Montpellier, 90

Monuments to Elliot and Wellington at Gibraltar, 13

Moorish Castle at Gibraltar, 15

Moors in Gibraltar, 10;
Ceuta taken from the, 25;
in Spain, 47

Mosque of the Djama-el-Kebir at Tangier, 6;
at Algiers, 31

Mosques of Alexandria, 250

Murano, 231

Musta, 292

Mustapha Pacha, 251

N

Naples, its population and trade, 95;
beauty of position, and charming environs, 325;
sordid surroundings of the port, 327;
streets, trades, and _al fresco_ toilettes, 328;
Piazza degli Orefici, and cruelty to animals, 329, 330;
snails, goats, water sellers, and chapel of St. Januarius, 330;
churches of Sta. Chiara, S. Domenico Maggiore, and S. Lorenzo, 332;
antiquities of National Museum, Capri, Villa Nazionale, and Grotto di
Posilipo, 333;
"Corniche" of Posilipo, and Roman ruins, 335;
Pozzuoli, 335;
Monte Nuovo and Avernus, 337;
environs of Baiæ and Cumæ, and fascination of Capri, 339;
the drive to Castellamare, 345;
Sorrento, 346;
Amalfi, 347;
Salerno, 349

Napoleon, Wars of, and Tarifa, 4;
and Genoa, 165, 181;
seizure of Barcelona, 83;
defeat at Alexandria, 251, 255;
and a project for a Suez Canal, 264;
at Malta, 287;
confinement at Elba, and escape, 203-206;
at Venice, 222

Napoleon III., acquires Nice, 129

Negroes at Gibraltar, 10

Nelson, feasted at the Moorish Castle, Gibraltar, 16;
victory at Aboukir Bay, 253, 254;
at Capraja, 207

Nervi, 186

Nevada, Sierra, 58, 59

Nicæa, 126, 127

Nice, 21, 96, 102;
the Queen of the Riviera, 124;
mountains, and its detractors, 125;
three distinct towns--Greek, Italian, and French, 126;
harbor and village of Limpia, and its early history, 127;
Castle Hill, 128;
Raüba Capeu, and the _mistral_, 131;
Italian division and the Promenade du Midi, 132;
cathedral of St. Réparate, the modern town, and the Promenade des
Anglais, 133;
beauty of the private gardens, carnival and battle of flowers, 134,
135;
the Jardin Public, quays on the Paillon bank and casino, 137;
theatre, Préfecture, flower market, the Ponchettes, the Place Masséna,
the Boulevards Victor Hugo and Dubouchage, Cimiez and Carabacel,
138;
suburbs, 139;
the road to Monte Carlo, and Monaco, 141;
Villefranche, and the infinite charms of, 141;
heights of Mont Alban, and the Magnan valley, 143;
"gloriously beautiful," 144

Nicholas Alexandrowitch, The Czarewitch, death at Nice, 138

Nile, The, alluvial deposit, 237;
battle of the, 253;
fertilizing properties, 260

Nimes, 110

Notabile, antiquity and manufactures, 290;
cathedral and churches, 292

Nuovo, Monte, 337

O

"Oceanus River," designation of the Atlantic in Homeric times, 2

Octavius, defeat of Antony at Mustapha Pacha, 251

Odessa, 123

O'Hara's Folly, tower at Gibraltar, 17

Orange, 110

Oranges, at Spezzia, 189

Orbitello, Etruscan relics at, 210

Ortygia, Island of, 303;
temple of Jupiter, and the Latonia, 304;
Greek Theatre, 305

Ostia, 216, 217

Ostrogoths, The, and Marseilles, 109

P

Pæstum, Temples of, 349, 350

Paillon, The, 139

Paintings in the Palais des Arts, Marseilles, 115

_Palazzi_, The, of Genoa and Venice, 168

Palermo, 312;
first impressions disappointing, and the imposing aspect of the
streets, 312;
the Palazzo Reale, 315;
the Cappella Palatina, church of Martorana, and the Cathedral, 316;
observatory, Monreale, 316;
museum, and the rocks of Pellegrino, etc., 321, 322;
the Piazza Marina, 322;
its beauty at sunset, 323

Pallanza, 147

Pammilus of Megara, and the founding of Selinus, 319

Pastoret, 122

Patrick, St., at St. Honorat, 150

Paul, St., wrecked at Gzeier, 271;
popularity at Malta, 293

Peak of Teneriffe, and the rock at Ceuta, 27

Pegli, 186

Pellegrino, Monte, 316, 317

Pellew, Admiral, and the destruction of the pirate fleet, 215

Pelusium, ruins of, 263

Perini del Vaga, his frescoes at Genoa, 175

Petrarch, 333

Pharos of Tarifa, The, 3

Philip V., 22;
bombards Barcelona, 83

Phocæa, 94

Phoenicians, their designation of Ceuta, 26;
at Marseilles, 95;
and Malaga, 46

Pianosa, 206;
historical associations, 206

Pietra Santa, 197

Pietro Negro, 271

"Pillars of Hercules," 1;
in Homeric times, 2, 5, 24, 96

Pindar and his designation of Agrigentum, 308

Piombino, 207

Pirates of Barbary, 97

Pisa, rival of Genoa, 163;
Cathedral, Campo Santo, baptistry, and leaning tower of, 198, 199

Plague, The, at Marseilles, 112, 113;
at Palermo, 317

Pliny, 247

Polyphemus and Aci Reale, 198

Pompey's Pillar, 247

Pons, St., 139

Populonia, 207;
defeat of Lars Porsenna of Clusium, and possession by the Etruscans,
208

Port Said, 258;
coaling station, 262

Porto (Tuscany), 216, 217

Portugal, King John takes Ceuta from the Moors, 25

Pozzuoli, Bay of, 326, 334, 335;
town of, 335;
allusion of Alexandre Dumas, 338

Prim, Monument to, at Barcelona, 69

Proserpine, Temple of, at Imtarfa, 292

Ptolemy Philadelphus and the Temple of Arsenoe, 252

Punta de Africa, The, the African Pillar of Hercules, 24

Pyrgos, 214

Pytheas, 97;
statue at Marseilles, 100

Q

Quarry of the Cappucini, 305

R

Rabato, 272

Rameses, and Pelusium, 263

Ramleh, 251

Rapallo, Bay of, 186

Raphael, 175

Raphael, St., 146

Raymond des Tours, 121

Recco, 186

Revolution, French, and Venice, 222

Riva, 147