Far on the extreme left, out of the blue waters, glimmered the green isle of Aenaria, some sixteen miles away, together with the low‐lying islet of Prochyta. Scarcely severed from the latter, rose the famous promontory of Misenum, harbouring an Imperial fleet, and crowned by a Lucullan villa, ere long the death‐scene of its Imperial owner. Baiae nestled close by, on the lovely inlet which dented the palace‐covered shore. After which Puteoli, the queen of commerce, the focus of the foreign‐going galleys—one of the most frequented doors of Rome, with its mole, and its docks, and busy quays. Then Neapolis, in the centre of the semicircle, and, still nigher round the curving shore, the vine‐clad slopes of high Vesuvius, with ill‐fated Herculaneum and Pompeii resting at its foot, on the brim of the sparkling waters. Surrentum, in the green nook of its sheltering hills, lay hid, but its cape, reaching out to within three miles of our island, forms the southern horn of the crescent. The peaceful mountain in the midst, so luxuriant with verdure, as yet gave no sign of the blot of awful desolation with which it was about to mar for posterity the loveliest prospect in nature. Not as now, but from end to end, a continuous belt of buildings circumscribed the bay; for this enchanting strand was the favoured region for the retirement and residence of the wealthy. Villa upon villa, in thick profusion, sustained the line between village and town, until it seemed as if it were an unbroken city which gleamed so white along the circuit of the lustrous Campanian shore. Turning again to the right hand was expanded the less lovely Gulf of Paestum, with the city of the roses itself lying on its edge, far away on the opposite side. Behind the knight lay the valley of Capreae, rich and green, and shut in by a mountain barrier from the other half of the island, which was a high table‐land sloping towards the north‐west. Conical hills, _taurubulae_, as they were called, rose from this valley on either hand, crowned with buildings and clothed with foliage; whilst in the midst, which was the neck of the island, nestled a little town. Yet even this part, the lowest point, and saddle‐seat, as it were, was high above the sea; and steep descents, to the north and south, led down on either coast to the only two practicable landings the precipitous shores possessed. Thus it may be seen how secluded and safe from intrusion this isolated spot of only eleven miles in circumference could be maintained. Scarcely could a man, had he the choice of the world, pitch upon such another place, where he could revel so peacefully in the beauties which nature had so lavishly clustered around, under a climate so equable and genial, as to render mere existence delicious.