At the present moment the layers of volcanic matter beneath which Pompeii has been slumbering for centuries, are from twelve to fourteen feet over the tops of the houses. Loftier still is the pile that overlies the buried Herculaneum. This city, situated nearer to the base of the Volcano, has been exposed to the effects of many successive eruptions; and accordingly, spread out over the mass of ashes and pumice by which it was first overwhelmed, in the time of Pliny, we now find alternate layers of lava and volcanic mud, together with fresh accumulations of ashes, to a height, in many places, of 112 feet, and nowhere less than 70. Nor was this ejected matter confined to these two populous towns. It was scattered far and wide over the country around, and has contributed in no small degree to that extraordinary richness and fertility for which the soil of Naples is so justly famed. As regards the production of land where none before existed, here is one fact of singular significance. At the time of the eruption, in 79, Pompeii was a seaport town to which merchantmen were wont to resort, and a flight of steps, which still remains, led down to the water’s edge: it is now more than a mile distant from the coast, and the tract of land which intervenes is composed entirely of volcanic tuff and ashes. Gladly would we linger over the reminiscences of these luxurious and ill-fated cities. By the removal of the ashes, Pompeii is now laid open to view for at least one-third of its extent; and a strange sight it is, this ancient Roman city thus risen as it were from the grave,--risen, but yet lifeless,--with its silent streets, and its tenantless houses, and its empty Forum. Wherever we turn we have before us a curious and interesting picture, ghastly though it is, of the social, political, and domestic life of those ancient times, of the glory and the shame that hung around the last days of Pagan Rome;--in the theatres and the temples, in the shops and the private houses, in the graceful frescoes, in the elaborate mosaics, and, not least, in the idle scribblings on the walls, which, with a sort of whimsical reverence, have been spared by the destroying hand of Time. Then again, what a host of singular relics are there to be wondered at:--articles of domestic use and luxury, kitchen utensils and surgical instruments; female skeletons with the ornaments and vanities of the world, rings and bracelets and necklaces, still clinging to their charred remains; and strangest perhaps of all, eighty-four loaves of bread, which were put into the oven to bake 1800 years ago, and were taken out only yesterday, with the baker’s brand upon them, and the stamp of the baker’s elbow still freshly preserved in the centre of each. No subject could be more tempting to a writer, none more attractive to a reader. But our present purpose is to show the effects of Volcanos in elevating the level of the land; and so we must turn our back on the buried