Near by is an "Ammonia Grotto," or a cave in which ammonia gas rises from the ground. The earth is cold, and yet an intense heat arises from it; and, though no draught of wind can be perceived, one feels all the heat and gentle influence which are derived while standing over the register of a large furnace. The effect of inhaling the gas is highly exhilarating, and one would soon become intoxicated, as with opium or ether. When I came out, my head felt dizzy, my feet light, and for a moment they seemed debating whether they should not exchange places with each other; but the fresh air soon decided in favor of the old way.

On the shores of this lake are sulphur baths, where one needs no fire to keep him warm. The apartments are small, rude, and covered with incrustations and saline deposits, and are formed by the sulphureous gases, and it was not difficult to imagine how soon a confinement in one of them would scorch the rheumatism out of a poor man's limbs, or sweat the palsy out of his painless sides. The idea, however, of "taking a sweat" in one of the drawing-rooms of Mount Vesuvius is somewhat novel. The region all around is volcanic; and, in many places, the earth is so warm, that, a few inches below the surface, the hand cannot be laid upon it. There are also old Roman remains, which yet linger to tell the story of the past.

As we rode into Naples, after a visit to Agnano, we saw a novel and characteristic exhibition of the Catho lic religion. Just on the outskirts of the city, a wooden cross, with a representation of our Savior hanging upon it, was set up. The whole figure was exceedingly rude and uncomely, and looked like any thing but the Savior of the world. A priest was on a little elevated platform beside it, declaiming vehemently, and frequently

pointing, with a look of rage or sorrow, to the crucifix. As his speech went on, two monkish-looking creatures were handing round the plate for the carlines. The people were uncovered, and the rude rabble who swept by took off their hats, and murmured some word of approbation, as they passed. The two monks stopped all who were willing to contribute; and if begging is any evidence of devotion, they were eminently pious. With long faces, they moved about among the crowd, thrusting the plate into the eyes of every one who looked as if he was the possessor of a single piece of money, uttering a sort of whine, which evidently was meant for an expression of religious fervency. Our guide uncovered his head as we passed, but told us, when we were out of the way, that he had no faith in that scene, though he acknowledged himself to be a devout Catholic.

39

XXIV.

THE CHURCHES OF NAPLES.

WHEN Sabbath dawned upon us in Naples, the question arose, "What shall we do, and where shall we igo?" and, after a consultation, we concluded to spend the day in visiting the churches and cemeteries-about as good use as we could make of the Lord's day in such a city. The churches here are finer than those we saw in Rome, with a few exceptions. They are spacious and splendid, filled with costly ornaments, and glittering with the wealth of ages. The effect, as we entered the Church of the Jesuits, was almost overpowering. On an altar near the door was stretched a wax figure, which was laid out in lifelike resemblance of the Savior. The head was covered with thorns; the blood was oozing from the side; and around, above, and beneath flashed out a hundred lights upon the dim shadows of the church. The sacrament was being administered by a priest who was arrayed in most costly robes. Around the altar were about two hundred persons, who were on their knees. A golden plate was handed to one, who held it under his chin while the wafer was laid upon his tongue. When he was sure that the article was safe, the plate was handed to the next person, and so on. Crowds were coming and going all the time, and when one priest became weary, another took his place. All around the church were confessionals, in which were kneeling penitents

engaged in devotional exercises. I noticed here that no woman came to the sacrament with her head uncovered. If she came in with uncovered head, as was frequently the case, having on no bonnet, she threw her scarf or handkerchief over her head while kneeling at the altar. Forty-six Jesuits are said to be in attendance upon this church all the time. Their cloisters are near at hand, and they live in idleness and crime.

The next church' we visited no matter for the name was founded by Charles of Anjou, and is one of the finest I saw on the continent, and is under the care of the monks, who have a convent adjoining. The eye could turn in no direction, from the pavement beneath to the ceiling above, without resting on marble, silver, or gold. Ten thousand men could move about with ease beneath the bending arches and along the spacious nave. It contains two pillars, of white marble, brought from Jerusalem by the crusaders; splendid tombs, in which repose the ashes of several of the princes of Arragon. Behind the great altar, separated by a door from the church, is the chapel of the convent. The door is iron trellised work; and we were allowed to gaze through upon the nuns, who were at their devotions. They were all clad in neat, Quakerish dresses, and looked modest and pious. They seemed to be of all ages, from the pale, delicate girl of sixteen, to the thin, wrinkled old lady of eighty years. The services in this church were very captivating. Three monks were singing; and such power in music I never heard before. Awe seemed to pervade the heart, as the streams.came echoing back from the resounding aisles,

Santa Chiara.

like the harmony of heaven. It is only when we follow these monks into the sacristy, and see them there, that the delusion dies away.

Leaving this splendid edifice, we entered another nameless chapel,' where we found several works of art which draw much attention from strangers. Here we found the "Dead Christ," a statue of the Savior reposing in death after his crucifixion. At his feet lie the spikes, the hammer, and the thorns. Over the form is thrown a delicate veil, so thin and gauzelike that we can seem to see the perspiration upon the body. The illusion is complete, and the beholder instinctively reaches forward to remove the covering from the face. This exquisite work is as large as life, and is carved from one piece of marble. The monk who opened the doors told us a monkish story, something as follows: An English noble wished to purchase this piece of statuary, to remove to England, and offered for it its weight in gold and silver, in equal proportions, but was refused.

In another part of this chapel, which was originally dedicated to Diana of the Ephesians, is a statue of Vice, covered with a rope network, which he is endeavoring to tear off, in the doing of which he is assisted by an angel. As I approached the figure, the illusion was so complete, that I seemed to be able to put my hand beneath the network, which appeared to be separate from the person. A globe and some books are beside the statue, all of which are carved from one piece of marble. On the pages of the open book was the following appropriate inscription-Nahum i. 13: "For now will I break his yoke from off thee, and

1 Santa Severa.