"It is characteristic of the noblest natures and the finest imaginations," says an elegant writer[262], "to love to explore the vestiges of antiquity, and to dwell in times that are no more. The first is the domain of the imaginative affections alone; we can carry none of our baser passions with us thither. The antiquary is often spoken of as being of a peculiar construction of intellect, which makes him think and feel differently from other people. But, in truth, the spirit of antiquarianism is one of the most universal of human tendencies. There is, perhaps, scarcely any person, for example, not utterly stupid or sophisticated, who would not feel a strange thrill come over him in the wonderful scenes these volumes describe. Looking round upon the long ruined city, who would not, for the moment, utterly forget the seventeen centuries that had revolved since Herculaneum and Pompeii were part and parcel of the world, moving to and fro along its streets! It would not be deemed a mere fever of curiosity that would occupy the mind,--an impatience to pry into every hole and corner of a scene at once so old and so new. Besides all that, there would be a sense of the actual presence of those past times, almost like the illusion of a dream. There is, in fact, perhaps no spot of interest on the globe, which would be found to strike so deep an impression into so many minds." Herculaneum is an ancient city of Italy, situated in the Bay of Naples, and supposed to have been founded by Hercules, or in honour of him, 1250 years before the Christian era.[263] "This city," says Strabo, "and its next neighbour, Pompeii, on the river Sarnus, were originally held by the Osci, then by the Tyrrhenians and Pelasgians, then by the Samnites, who, in their turn, took possession of it, and retained it ever after." The adjacent country[264] was distinguished in all ages for its romantic loveliness and beauty. The whole coast, as far as Naples, was studded with villas, and Vesuvius, whose fires had been long quiescent, was itself covered with them. Villages were also scattered along the shores, and the scene presented the appearance of one vast city, cut into a number of sections by the luxuriant vegetation of the paradise in which it was embosomed. The following epigram of Martial gives an animated view of the scene, previous to the dreadful catastrophe, which so blasted this fair page of Nature's book:-- Here verdant vines o'erspread Vesuvius' sides; The generous grape here pour'd her purple tides. This Bacchus loved beyond his native scene; Here dancing satyrs joy'd to trip the green. Far more than Sparta this in Venus' grace; And great Alcides once renown'd the place; Now flaming embers spread dire waste around, And gods regret that gods can so confound.