t in the dark,
stifling, as we were, for some seconds which seemed minutes, till our
guide returned with a _milord's_ dressing-gown, which he assured us
had been hung up as a votive offering for cured rheumatism. Being
candidates ourselves for a similar benefit, we desired to be rubbed
down like _milord_, till _aluminous_ perspiration stood thick upon us,
the alum being deposited from the walls and atmosphere of the place.
We were soon obliged to beg for quarter. The _milord_, whose
dressing-gown we were possessed of, was so bad as to be obliged to be
rubbed sitting; but so powerful is the remedy, that after fifteen such
sittings, he walked round the lake (two miles), and went home in his
carriage "_guerito!_" "Such baths!" that had cured _he_ knew not how
many persons:--

"Men who'd spent _all_ upon physician's fees,
Who'd _never_ slept, nor had a _moment's_ ease,
Were now as _roaches sound_, and all as _brisk as bees!_"--CRABBE.

What with its hot water, sulphur, vapour, and alum, we too should have
fancied Naples might have been comparatively exempt from rheumatisms
and skin diseases, in both of which it abounds.

LUCRINE AND AVERNUS LAKES.

From the sea and its inlet called the Lucrine _Lake_, we pass along a
pleasant green lane, about a mile long, which issues on _Avernus_,
whose waters we find both limpid and clear; but are instructed that
two months later will change them to a dark-red colour, and that the
neighbourhood will then become very malarious and unsafe. A piece of
semicircular wall on one side of the lake, indicates the whereabouts
of a temple of Proserpine, or Apollo, or any god or goddess you
please. We were so absurd as to pay a scudo to be taken through a vile
tunnel, accompanied by two torch-bearers, and two other dirty
wretches, who often carry us pick-a-back through one black hole into
another, splashing us through dark pools, putting us down here and
there as they pleased, picking us up again, grinning like demons, and
by dint of shaking their torches above, and disturbing the water
below, raising foul smells enough to intoxicate fifty Sybils. At
length, half suffocated by those classical delights, we cry Enough!
enough! and beg to be put into our saddles again. The _Stufa di
Nerone_, a little further on the high-road, is another volcanic
_calidarium_ in full activity, where you may boil eggs or scald
yourself in a dark cavern. There you may deposit your mattrass and
yourse