Towards evening all is calm. Corinne and Nevil wandered slowly forth: they stepped on flowers, and scattered their sweets as they pressed them. The nightingale rests on the rose-bushes, and blends the purest music with the richest scents. All nature's charms seem mutually attracted; but the most entrancing and inexpressible of all is the mildness of the air. In contemplating a fine northern view, the climate always qualifies our pleasure. Like false notes in a concert, the petty sensations of cold and damp distract attention; but in approaching Naples you breathe so freely, feel such perfect ease; with such bounteous friendship does nature welcome you, that nothing impairs your delight. Man's every relation, in our lands, is with society: in warm climates his affections overflow among exterior objects. It is not that the south has not its melancholy--in what scenes can human destiny fail to awaken it?--but here it is unmixed with discontent or anxiety. Elsewhere life, such as it is, suffices not the faculties of man: here those faculties suffice not for a life whose superabundance of sensation induce a pensive indolence, for which those who feel it can scarce account. During the night the fire-flies fill the air: one might suppose that the burning earth thus let her flames escape in light: these insects wanton through the trees, sometimes pitching on their leaves; and as the wind waves them, the uncertain gleam of these little stars is varied in a thousand ways. The sand also contains a number of small ferruginous stones, that shine through it, as if earth cherished in her breast the last rays of the vivifying sun. Everywhere is united a life and a repose that satisfy at once all the wishes of existence.