Our journey hither was through the most beautiful part of the finest country in the world； and every spot of it on some account or other，famous for these three thousand years past. The season has hitherto been just as warm as one would wish it； no unwholesome airs，or violent heats，yet heard of： The people call it a backward year，and are in pain about their corn， wine， and oil； but we，who are neither corn， wine， nor oil，find it very agreeable. Our road was through Velletri， Cisterna， Terracina， Capua， and Aversa， and so to Naples. The minute one leaves his Holiness's dominions， the face of things begins to change from wide uncultivated plains to olive groves and well-tilled fields of corn，intermixed with ranks of elms，every one of which has its vine twining about it，and hanging in festoons between the rows from one tree to another. The great old fig-trees，the oranges in full bloom，and myrtles in every hedge，make one of the most pleasing scenes you can conceive； besides that，the roads are wide，well-kept，and full of passengers，a sight I have not beheld this long time. My wonder still increased upon entering the city，which I think for number of people，outdoes both Paris and London. The streets are one continued market，and thronged with populace so much that a coach can hardly pass. The common sort are a jolly lively kind of animals，more industrious than Italians usually are； they work till evening； then take their lute or guitar (for they all play)and walk about the city，or upon the sea-shore with it，to enjoy the fresco. One sees their little brown children jumping about stark-naked，and the bigger ones dancing with castanets，while others play on the cymbal to them. Your maps will show you the situation of Naples； it is on the most lovely bay in the world，and one of the calmest seas： it has many other beauties besides those of nature. We have spent two days in visiting the remarkable places in the country round it，such as the bay of Baya and its remains of antiquity； the lake Avernus，and the Solfatara，Charon's grotto，etc.，We have been in the Sybil's cave and many other strange holes under ground (I only name them because you may consult Sandy's travels)； but the strangest hole I ever was in，has been today at a place called Portici，where his Sicilian Majesty has a country seat. About a year ago，as they were digging，they discovered some parts of ancient buildings above thirty feet deep in the ground： Curiosity led them on，and they have been digging ever since； the passage they have made，with all its turnings and windings，is now more than a mile long. As you walk you see parts of an amphitheatre，many houses adorned with marble columns，and incrusted with the same the front of a temple，several arched vaults of rooms painted in fresco. Some pieces of painting have been taken out from hence finer than any thing of the kind before discovered，and with these the king has adorned his palace； also a number of statues，medals，and gems； and more are dug out every day. This is known to be a Roman town，that in the emperor Titus's time was over-whelmed by a furious eruption of Mount Vesuvius，which is hard by. The wood and beams remain so perfect that you may see the grain！ But burnt to a coal，and dropping into dust upon the least touch. We were today at the foot of that mountain，which at present smokes only a little，where we saw the materials that fed the stream of fire，which about four years since ran down its side. We have but a few days longer to stay here； too little in conscience for such a place.