Constructam jaciunt pelago: sic illa ruinam
Prona trahit, penitusque vadis illisa recumbit ;
Miscent se maria et nigræ attolluntur arenæ:
Tum sonitu Prochita alta tremit, durumque cubile
Inarime, Jovis Imperiis imposta Typhao.

En. 9.

Not with less ruin than the Bajan mole
(Rais'd on the seas the surges to control)
At once comes tumbling down the rocky wall,
Prone to the deep the stones disjointed fall
Off the vast pile; the scatter'd ocean flies;
Black sands, discolour'd froth, and mingled mud arise.
The frighted billows roll, and seek the shores:
Trembles high Prochyta, and Ischia roars;
Typhæus roars beneath, by Jove's command,
Astonish'd at the flaw that shakes the land,
Soon shifts his weary side, and scarce awake,

With wonder feels the weight press lighter on his back.

DRYDEN..

I do not see why Virgil, in this noble comparison, has given the epithet of alta to Procita, for it is not only no high island in itself, but is much lower than Ischia, and all the points of land that lie within its neighbourhood. I should think alta was joined adverbially with tremit, did Virgil make use of so equi vocal a syntax. I cannot forbear inserting in this place, the lame imitation Silius Italicus has made of the foregoing passage.

Haud aliter structo Tyrrhena ad littora saxo,
Pugnatura fretis subter cæcisque procellis
Pila immane sorans, impingitur ardua ponto;
Immugit Nereus, divisaque cærula pulsu
Illisum accipiunt irata sub æquora montem.

So vast a fragment of the Bajan mole,
That fix'd amid the Tyrrhene waters, braves
The beating tempests and insulting waves,
Thrown from its basis with a dreadful sound,
Dashes the broken billows all around,
And with resistless force the surface cleaves,
That in his angry waves the falling rock receives.

Lib. 4.

The next morning, going to Cume through a very pleasant path, by the Mare Mortuum, and the Elisian Fields, we saw in our way a great many ruins of se

pulchres, and other ancient edifices. Cumæ is at present utterly destitute of inhabitants, so much is it changed since Lucan's time, if the poem to Piso be his.

-Acidaliâ quæ condidit Alite muros

Euboicam referens fæcunda Neapolis urbem.

Where the fam'd walls of fruitful Naples lie,
That may with multitudes with Cumæ vie.

They show here the remains of Apollo's Temple, which all the writers of the antiquities of this place suppose to have been the same Virgil describes in his sixth Eneïd, as built by Dædalus, and that the very story which Virgil there mentions, was actually engraven on the front of it.

Redditus his primùm terris tibi Phabe, sacravit
Remigium Alurum, posuitque immania templa.
In foribus lethum, Androgeo, tum pendere pœnas
Cecro pida jussi, miserum! Septena quotannis
Corpora natorum: stat ductis sortibus urna.
Contra elata mari respondet Gnossia tellus, &c.

To the Cumean coast at length he came,
And, here alighting, built his costly frame
Inscrib'd to Phoebus, here he hung on high
The steerage of his wings that cut the sky;
Then o'er the lofty gate his art emboss'd
Androgeo's death, and off'rings to his ghost,
Sev'n youths from Athens yearly sent, to meet
The fate appointed by revengeful Crete;
And next to those the dreadful urn was plac'd,
In which the destin'd names by lots were cast.

Æn. 6.

DRYDEN.

Among other subterraneous works there is the beginning of a passage, which is stopped up within less than an hundred yards of the entrance by the earth that is fallen into it. They suppose it to have been the other mouth of the Sibyl's grotto. It lies, indeed, in the same line with the entrance near the Avernus, is faced alike with the opus reticulatum, and has still the marks of chambers that have been cut into the sides of it. Among the many fables and conjectures which have been made on this grotto, I think it is

highly probable, that it was once inhabited by such as perhaps thought it a better shelter against the sun than any other kind of building, or at least that it was made with smaller trouble and expence. As for the mosaic, and other works, that may be found in it, they may very well have been added in latter ages, according as they thought fit to put the place to different uses. The story of the Cimmerians is indeed clogged with improbabilities, as Strabo relates it; but it is very likely there was in it some foundation of truth. Homer's description of the Cimmerians, whom he places in these parts, answers very well to the inhabitants of such a long, dark cavern.

The gloomy race, in subterraneous cells,

Among surrounding shades and darkness dwells;
Hid in th' unwholesome covert of the night,
They shun th' approaches of the cheerful light:
The sun ne'er visits their obscure retreats,
Nor when he runs his course, nor when he sets.
Unhappy mortals !.

Tu quoque littoribus nostris, Eneia nutrix,
Eternam moriens famam Cajeta dedisti:

Et nunc servat honos sedem tuus, ossaque nomen
Hesperia in magnâ, si qua est ea gloria, signat.

And thou, O matron, of immortal fame,
Here dying, to the shore hast left thy name:
Cajeta still the place is call'd from thee,
The nurse of great Æneas' infancy.

Odyss. lib. 10.

Here rest thy bones in rich Hesperia's plains;
Thy name ('tis all a ghost can have) remains.

En. 7.

DAYDEN.

I saw at Cajeto the rock of marble, said to be cleft by an earthquake at our Saviour's death. There is written over the chapel door, that leads into the crack, the words of the evangelist, Ecce terræ-motus factus est magnus. I believe every one who sees this vast rent in so high a rock, and observes how exactly the convex parts of one side tally with the concave of the other, must be satisfied that it was the effect of an earthquake, though I question not but it either happened long before the time of the Latin writers, or in

the darker ages since, for otherwise I cannot but think they would have taken notice of its original. The port, town, castle, and antiquities of this place have been often described.

We touched next at Monte Circeio, which Homer calls Insula Æea, whether it be that it was formerly an island, or that the Greek sailors of his time thought it so. It is certain they might easily have been deceived by its appearance, as being a very high mountain, joined to the main land by a narrow tract of earth, that is many miles in length, and almost of a level with the surface of the water. The end of this promontory is very rocky, and mightily exposed to the winds and waves, which perhaps gave the first rise to the howlings of wolves, and the roarings of lions, that used to be heard thence. This I had a very lively idea of, being forced to lie under it a whole night. Virgil's description of Æneas passing by this coast can never be enough admired. It is worth while to observe how, to heighten the horror of the description, he has prepared the reader's mind, by the solemnity of Cajeta's funeral, and the dead stillness of the night."

At pius exequiis Eneas rite solutis

Aggere composito tumuli, postquam alta quiérunt
Aquora, tendit iter velis, portumque relinquit.
Adspirant auræ in noctem, nec candida cursus
Luna negat: splendet tremulo sub lumine pontus.
Proxima Circea raduntur littora terræ:
Dives inaccessos ubi solis filia lucos
Assiduo resonat cantu, tectisque superbis

Urit odoratam nocturna in lumina cedrum,
Arguto tenues percurrens pectine telas;
Hinc exaudiri gemitus, iræque leonum

Vincla recusantum, et sera sub nocte rudentum :

Setigerique sues, atque in præsepibus ursi

Savire, ac forma magnorum ululare luporum:

Quos hominum ex facie Dea sava potentibus herbis
Induerat Circe in vultus ac terga ferarum.
Quæ nè monstra pii paterentur talia Troës
Delati in portus, neu littora dira subirent,
Neptunus centis implevit vela secundis:

Atque fugam dedit, et præter vada fervida vexit. Æn, lib. 7.

A

Now, when the prince her fun'ral rites had paid,
He plow'd the Tyrrhene seas with seals display'd.
From land a gentle breeze arose, by night
Serenely shone the stars, the moon was bright,
And the sea trembled with her silver light.
Now near the shelves of Circe's shores they run,
(Circe the rich, the daughter of the sun)
A dangerous coast: the goddess wastes her days
In joyous songs, the rocks resound her lays:
In spinning, or the loom, she spends her night,
And cedar brands supply her father's light.
From hence were heard, (rebellowing to the main)
The roars of lions that refuse the chain,

The grunts of bristled boars, and groans of bears,
And herds of howling wolves that stun the sailors' ears.
These from their caverns, at the close of night,
Fill the sad isle with horror and affright.

Darkling they mourn their fate, whom Circe's pow'r,
(That watch'd the moon, and planetary hour)
With words and wicked herbs, from human kind
Had alter'd, and in brutal shapes confin'd.
Which monsters, lest the Trojan's pious host

Should bear, or touch upon th' inchanted coast;

Propitious Neptune steer'd their course by night.

With rising gales, that sped their happy flight. DRYDEN.

Virgil calls this promontory Æëæ Insula Circes in the third Æneid, but it is the hero, and not the poet, that speaks. It may, however, be looked upon as an intimation, that he himself thought it an island in Eneas's time. As for the thick woods, which not only Virgil but Homer mentions, in the beautiful description that Plutarch and Longinus have taken notice of, they are most of them grubbed up since the promontory has been cultivated and inhabited, though there are still many spots of it which show the natural inclination of the soil that leans that way.

The next place we touched upon was Nettuno, where we found nothing remarkable besides the extreme poverty and laziness of the inhabitants. At two miles distance from it lie the ruins of Antium, that are spread over a great circuit of land. There are still left the foundations of several buildings, and, what are always the last parts that perish in a ruin, many sub