rows of vines
grew over the streets of Pompeii. The temples of Paestum had not indeed
been hidden from the eye of man by any great convulsion of nature; but,
strange to say, their existence was a secret even to artists and
antiquaries. Though situated within a few hours' journey of a great
capital, where Salvator had not long before painted, and where Vico was
then lecturing, those noble remains were as little known to Europe as
the ruined cities overgrown by the forests of Yucatan. What was to be
seen at Naples Addison saw. He climbed Vesuvius, explored the tunnel of
Posilipo, and wandered among the vines and almond trees of Capreae. But
neither the wonders of nature, nor those of art, could so occupy his
attention as to prevent him from noticing, though cursorily, the abuses
of the government and the misery of the people. The great kingdom which
had just descended to Philip the Fifth was in a state of paralytic
dotage. Even Castile and Aragon were sunk in wretchedness. Yet, compared
with the Italian dependencies of the Spanish crown, Castile and Aragon
might be called prosperous. It is clear that all the observations which
Addison made in Italy tended to confirm him in the political opinions
which he had adopted at home. To the last he always spoke of foreign
travel as the best cure for Jacobitism. In his Freeholder, the Tory
fox-hunter asks what travelling is good for, except to teach a man to
jabber French, and to talk against passive obedience.

From Naples, Addison returned to Rome by sea, along the coast which his
favorite Virgil had celebrated. The felucca passed the headland where
the oar and trumpet were placed by the Trojan adventurers on the tomb of
Misenus, and anchored at night under the shelter of the fabled
promontory of Circe. The voyage ended in the Tiber, still overhung with
dark verdure, and still turbid with yellow sand, as when it met the eyes
of Aeneas. From the ruined port of Ostia, the stranger hurried to Rome;
and at Rome he remained during those hot and sickly months when, even in
the Augustan age, all who could make their escape fled from mad dogs and
from streets black with funerals, to gather the first figs of the season
in the country. It is probable that, when he, long after, poured forth
in verse his gratitude to the Providence which had enabled him to
breathe unhurt in tainted air, he was thinking of the August and
September which he passed at Rome.

It was not till the latter end of