Carthusian Abbey of San Martino, which stands on the same hill as the fortress of St. Elmo. The regularity of this edifice, its magnitude, and its elevated situation, adapt it in a peculiar manner to the display of well combined lights, and shew off to advantage the whole plan of a regular illumination. This abbey is perhaps in the most beautiful site in the vicinity of Naples; it stands so high, and is placed at the same time in so central a point that it commands the whole city, which spreads immediately under it, the bay with. all its borders, islands, and windings, Mount Posilypo, and the promontory of Misenus on one side; and on the other, Mount Vesuvius, and the promontory of Surrentum; a view that might charm solitude itself, if the tediousness of ever-during solitude was susceptible of any charm. When the immense front of this edifice is illuminated, and all its divisions are traced in light, when its windows are framed in flames, its pillars become masses of fire, and their capitals so many crowns of stars; when its cornice is converted into one long lambent blaze, and its roof glows from end to end with brightness, it appears like a fairy fabric seated in the clouds, or a palace of fire suspended in the sky, the residence of some genius superintending the welfare of the city below. A vast mass of darkness immediately under and around it forms a strong contrast, while a few lamps scattered here and there down the side of the hill, seem to mark the way from this aerial mansion to the earth. The effect of this, and indeed of the general illumination, might be seen to most advantage from the bay, a little beyond the Castel del Uovo, whence the eye could take in at once the whole city and its vicinity, with the towns of Portici and Castel à Mare, the lights of which spread over the hills were reflected from the bay, and played in long lines on the surface of the water.

The illuminations were renewed for three successive nights, during which the streets were thronged with a population surpassing even that which swarms in the most frequented streets of London, at the very hour of business. On account of this crowd, carriages, with the exception of those belonging to the court and to a few privileged persons, such as foreign ministers, strangers, &c. who, it must be owned, did not abuse the exemption, were prohibited, a precaution both prudent and popular. Yet notwithstanding this pressure we witnessed no disorder, not a single scene of riot, drunkenness, quarrelling, or indecency. In many streets, particularly in the Strada di Toledo and along the Chiaia, there were little tables and cook-shops, where the passengers stopped and supped as appetite prompted them; these tables, with the parties grouped around them in different attitudes and dresses, with their gestures and lively tones, gave a sprightliness and animation to the scene quite peculiar to the place and climate. It is impossible to witness the general good humor that reigns amid such an immense populace at all times, and particularly when the joy of the moment lays them most open to sudden impulse, and not conceive a good opinion of their temper, and not reflect with surprise on the very unfavorable accounts given of the Neapolitans, as indeed of the Italians in general, by some hasty and prejudiced observers, who have not hesitated to represent them as a nation of idlers, buffoons, cheats, adulterers, and assassins. Of these imputations some are common, I am afraid, to all countries, and others are grounded upon misconceptions, ignorance, and sometimes a quality still less excusable, a propensity to censure and misrepresentation. That animation of gesture, and that imitative action so much recommended by the ancient orators when

under the management of taste and judgment, is the result of deep sensibility and common both to the Greeks and Italians. In the higher class, when polished by education, it is graceful and pleasing; in the lower it is lively and natural, but sometimes apt, at least in the opinion of a phlegmatic northern, to degenerate into buffoonery. Yet even this buffoonery shews great quickness of apprehension, and constitutes the groundwork of that pantomime which was a favorite amusement among the ancients, even during the most refined ages. To reproach them therefore with it is only to say, that the lower class in Naples has not sufficient discernment to employ the gifts of nature to the best advantage, and that their talents are not improved and perfected by education.

The imputation of idleness cannot be founded on the appearance of the country, cultivated as it is on all sides to the highest degree of perfection; it seems rather to have arisen from the manners and appearance of the Lazzaroni, a class whose very existence has been represented as a political phenomenon, a reproach to the government and the character of the country. The fact is, that this peculiar tribe is neither more nor less than the poorer part of the laboring class, such as are attached to no particular trade, but willing to work at all, and to take any job that is offered. If in London, where there is a regular tide of commerce and a constant call for labor, there are supposed to be at least twenty thousand persons who rise every morning without employment, and rely for maintenance on the accidents of the day; it is but fair to allow Naples, teeming as it is with population and yet destitute of similar means of supporting it, to have in proportion a greater

number of the same description, without incurring the censure of laziness.

The Lazzaroni are the porters of Naples; they are sometimes attached to great houses under the appellation of Facchino della Casa, to perform commissions for servants, and give assistance where strength and exertion are requisite; and in such stations they are said to have given proofs of secrecy, honesty and disinterestedness, very unusual among servants. Their dress is often only a shirt and trowsers; their diet maccaroni, fish, water melon, with iced water, and not unfrequently wine; and their habitation the portico of a church or palace. Their athletic forms and constant flow of spirits are sufficient demonstrations of the salutary effects of such plain food, and simple habits. Yet these very circumstances, the consequences or rather the blessings of the climate, have been turned into a subject of reproach, and represented as the result of indifference and indolence in a people either ignorant of the comforts of life, or too lazy to procure them. It would be happy however if the poor in every other country could so well dispense with animal food, and warm covering.

The name or rather nickname by which this class is designated, naturally tends to prejudice the stranger against them, as it seems to convey the idea of a sturdy beggar; its derivation is a subject of conjecture; the most probable seems to be that adopted at Naples itself, which supposes it to originate from the Spanish word lacero, derived from lacerus, signifying tattered, torn or ragged, pronounced by the Spaniards as by us, lassero, and converted by the Neapolitans into lazzero, lazzaroni. It

ill became the Spaniards after all to give contemptuous appellations to a people whom they oppressed, pillaged and degraded, and to ground those appellations on the misery, nakedness, and general poverty, produced by their own injustice.

Several anecdotes are related of the Lazzaroni, that redound much to their credit, and imply feelings which do not superabound in any rank, and would do honor to the highest. They are said to have shewn a rooted aversion to the inquisition, and by their resolute and unabating opposition, prevented its establishment in the kingdom of Naples, while the other inhabitants submitted to the measures of the court, and received it without reclamation. They have manifested, whenever an opportunity enabled them to express their feelings with energy, a warm attachment to the cause of liberty, and an abhorrence of oppression and injustice, which have more than once checked the career of government in its way to despotism. In these exertions they had the danger and the glory entirely to themselves, and may with reason boast that where the nobles yielded they made a stand, and by their perseverance saved from utter hopeless slavery, that country which their superiors were ready to betray. Even in the late invasion, they generously came forward, and offered their persons and lives to their sovereign, and finding neither chiefs to command, nor officers to lead them on, they reluctantly submitted to inaction, but with a surly silence and threatening aspect, that awed the invaders, and checked for once the insolence and rapacity of a French army. Such is their public spirit-their private feelings have oftentimes been displayed with equal advantage.