This is not the popular manner of regarding these things, I know; but I am writing to tell you what, at least, I conceive to be, under the deepest conviction of my responsibilities as a man, the naked truth. The day will come when these opinions will be believed, the political ephemera of the hour having withered, died, and become forgotten, notwithstanding the charlatanism and laboured industry of the Tacituses of the day. LETTER XIX. Passage to Naples in a heavy gale.—Street amusement at Naples.—The Mole.—Shipping and Vessels of War.—Neapolitan Skies.—Effect of Sunset.—The Museum.—Process of unrolling and decyphering the Herculaneum MSS.—Liberality of Government in carrying on the investigations.—Familiar articles found in the ruins.—Suggestions for the improvement of American Coinage.—Moral evidence of articles deposited in the Museum. The November of Sorrento proved a rough visiter, and we were driven to cluster around the solitary fire-place of the _Cassa detta del Tasso_. We resisted every inducement to remove, until the _tramontane_ got to be so marrow-chilling, that the alternative lay between total defeat and flight. We chose the latter, preferring abandoning the place we loved so well, to being chilled into mummies. The cold might have been resisted, had the house been in good repair, and suited to a winter’s residence; but, as the cook had possession of one of our two fire-places, the other proved insufficient for our wants. This letter is consequently written from Naples. You are not to fancy a freezing cold by this account, but one that was excessively chilling; and this the more so, from the circumstance that our house was fully exposed to the north winds, standing, as it did, on the northern edge of the plain, with the entire bay between us and the Apennines. The day we quitted Sorrento, the wind blew so heavily from the east, that the people of the _Divina Providenza_ looked surprised when we presented ourselves at the _Marinella_, in readiness to embark. They knew the bay better than I did; for, judging by the force of the gale and sea _within_ the curvature of our shore, I thought we might make the passage without any risk. Finding us ready to proceed, however, the fine fellows made no objection, but stood out boldly into the gulf. At the distance of a mile or two from the cliffs, we took the whole force of the wind; and really there were a few minutes when I thought of putting back. All our previous boating was a fair-weather frolic, compared to this.