The Citadel of Cuma is more than half a mile distant: in our progress to it we pass the Temple of the Giants, a piece of brick and rubble-work, containing a large niche, and two or three other small fragments of no account. What remains of the citadel is a wall against a hill, in one part of considerable height. It is composed internally of large tufo, rubble, and mortar, externally of large squared blocks of a coarse lava. There are various vaults and walls on the slope of the hill below, the work of which is between the reticulated and uncertain; lower down still, is the magnificent opening of the Grotto of the Sybil, which appears to be a natural cave, but contains an ascending flight of steps leading to nothing, at least there is at present no practicable way beyond it, but there appears to have been a small opening now filled with rubbish. It was perhaps by this passage that Narses took the citadel, but it seems hardly large enough to admit a man, and more suited for a tube by which the oracles were delivered in the temple above. After leaving these objects, we proceed to the Amphitheatre, which occupies a natural hollow in the ground. There is no appearance of vaults. Continuing our course to the south, we arrive at the Lago del Fusaro, or Acheron: there is a singular contrast between these terrible names and the lovely scenes which surround one; but the borders of these lakes are still dreadful by their insalubrity; this is a reasonable mal aria, such as one might expect from circumstances: a shallow stagnant lake in a strip of flat and marshy land, stretches along the foot of the hills parallel to the sea. The water is almost filled with putrefying confervæ, and being used in addition, as a place for steeping hemp, must be a disagreeable neighbour. It abounds, like several other lakes of the same sort in this district, with fish, and oysters, which adhere to stakes fixed in the bottom for that purpose: from this lake I crossed the hill which forms the western boundary of the bay of Naples, and without stopping at Baia, which lay close on the south, turned to the north and visited the baths of Nero, and Stufe of Tritola: the road is here cut in the rock for some distance, and nearly at the extremity of the gallery there are several chambers cut also in the soft rock, and a long winding passage, apparently artificial, which conducts to a pool of hot salt water. You are told that it will harden an egg in two minutes. I took off my coat and neckcloth and followed my guide. The heat at first was almost suffocating. However, by stooping very low, I found it more supportable, and afterwards a profuse perspiration relieved me, so that while the man was cooking his egg, I was perfectly at ease: he took with him a bucket, which he dipped into the water, and then put the egg into the bucket; he held it there three minutes, and the white was not entirely fixed, so that the temperature is probably less than 212, but