ul scene in the foreground, it must have been, and a whole horizon
of enchantment beyond the sunny peninsula over which it lorded: the
Mediterranean, with poetic Capri, and Ischia, and all the classic
shore from Cape Misenum, Baiae, and Naples, round to Vesuvius; all
the sparkling Bay of Naples; and on the other side the Bay of Salerno,
covered with the fleets of the commerce of Amalfi, then a republican
city of fifty thousand people; and Grecian Paestum on the marshy shore,
even then a ruin, its deserted porches and columns monuments of an
architecture never equaled elsewhere in Italy. Upon this charming perch,
the old Carthusian monks took the summer breezes and the winter sun,
pruned their olives, and trimmed their grapevines, and said prayers for
the poor sinners toiling in the valleys below.

The monastery is a desolate old shed now. We left our donkeys to eat
thistles in front, while we climbed up some dilapidated steps, and
entered the crumbling hall. The present occupants are half a dozen
monks, and fine fellows too, who have an orphan school of some twenty
lads. We were invited to witness their noonday prayers. The flat-roofed
rear buildings extend round an oblong, quadrangular space, which is
a rich garden, watered from capacious tanks, and coaxed into easy
fertility by the impregnating sun. Upon these roofs the brothers were
wont to walk, and here they sat at peaceful evening. Here, too, we
strolled; and here I could not resist the temptation to lie an unheeded
hour or two, soaking in the benignant February sun, above every human
concern and care, looking upon a land and sea steeped in romance. The
sky was blue above; but in the south horizon, in the direction of Tunis,
were the prismatic colors. Why not be a monk, and lie in the sun?

One of the handsome brothers invited us into the refectory, a place
as bare and cheerless as the feeding-room of a reform school, and set
before us bread and cheese, and red wine, made by the monks. I notice
that the monks do not water their wine so much as the osteria keepers
do; which speaks equally well for their religion and their taste. The
floor of the room was brick, the table plain boards, and the seats were
benches; not much luxury. The monk who served us was an accomplished
man, traveled, and master of several languages. He spoke English a
little. He had been several years in America, and was much interested
when we told him our nationality.

"Does the signor live n