In the Gulf of Naples, we find the inherent colour of the water exhibited to us by Nature on a most magnificent scale. The splendid "Azure cave," at Capri, might almost be said to have been created for the purpose. For many centuries its beauties had been veiled from man, as the narrow entrance is only a few feet above the level of the sea, and it was only discovered in the year 1826, by two Prussian artists accidentally swimming in the neighbourhood. Having passed the portal, the cave widens to grand proportions, 125 feet long, and 145 feet broad, and except a small landing place on a projecting rock at the farther end, its precipitous walls are on all sides bathed by the influx of the waters, which in that sea are most remarkably clear, so that the smallest objects may be distinctly seen on the light bottom at a depth of several hundred feet. All the light that enters the grotto must penetrate the whole depth of the waters, probably several hundred feet, before it can be reflected into the cave from the clear bottom, and it thus acquires so deep a tinge from the vast body of water through which it has passed, that the dark walls of the cavern are illumined by a radiance of the purest azure, and the most differently coloured objects below the surface of the water are made to appear bright blue. Had Byron known of the existence of this magic cave, Childe Harold would surely have sung its beauties in some of his most brilliant stanzas. All profound and clear seas are more or less of a deep blue colour, while, according to seamen, a green colour indicates soundings. The bright blue of the Mediterranean, so often vaunted by poets, is found all over the deep pure ocean, not only in the tropical and temperate zones, but also in the regions of eternal frost. Scoresby speaks with enthusiasm of the splendid blue of the Greenland seas, and all along the great ice-barrier which under 77° S. lat. obstructed the progress of Sir James Ross towards the pole, that illustrious navigator found the waters of as deep a blue as in the classical Mediterranean. The North Sea is green, partly from its water not being so clear, and partly from the reflection of its sandy bottom mixing with the essentially blue tint of the water. In the Bay of Loanga the sea has the colour of blood, and Captain Tuckey discovered that this results from the reflection of the red ground-soil. But the essential colour of the sea undergoes much more frequent changes over large spaces, from enormous masses of minute _algæ_, and countless hosts of small sea-worms, floating or swimming on its surface.