Italy from the Alps to Mount Etna . had built himself a lordly pleasure-house,—thespades of the workmen con-stantly turned up antique urns,funeral lamps, and coins ; andit was found that on this veryspot, where the generations ofthis nineteenth century wereto be laid to rest, the originalinhabitants of Palaiopolis hadburied the remains of theirdead three or four thousandyears ago ! The winds hadscattered the ashes of thoseGreek forefathers, or flowerswere rooted in them destinedto deck the graves of theirremote descendants. And farbelow the noisy railway-enginegoes rattling and steaming. Even
Italy from the Alps to Mount Etna . had built himself a lordly pleasure-house,—thespades of the workmen con-stantly turned up antique urns,funeral lamps, and coins ; andit was found that on this veryspot, where the generations ofthis nineteenth century wereto be laid to rest, the originalinhabitants of Palaiopolis hadburied the remains of theirdead three or four thousandyears ago ! The winds hadscattered the ashes of thoseGreek forefathers, or flowerswere rooted in them destinedto deck the graves of theirremote descendants. And farbelow the noisy railway-enginegoes rattling and steaming. Even as the leaves in the forest, so arcthe generations of men. Even this city of the deadhas its festival. If Napleshold high revels on its riotousChristmas Eve, its noisyEaster-Day, or its bacchanalianfestival of Piedigrotta, the se-cond of November (All SoulsDay) is celebrated here withnot less noise and show. Thereare glancing lights, chantingpriests, moving masses ofpeople pushing and being Santland 1 Elmo,)elow. and theLife,—. THE CUSTOM-HOUSE DOCK, NAPLES. pushed hither and thither, and all with flowers or tapers in their hands, inside the ceme-tery : and thousands of vehicles of all kinds, crowds singing, shouting, playing mora, orboccia, or drinking in the wine-shops, outside its walls. All Naples is afoot here, come to 3 c 37§ ITALY. see how the dead are lodged, how pleasant it must be to rest here, and also—with anintense sense of the present—to remind itself to enjoy life. How true it is, as UgoFoscolo sinsjs : AlVombra dei cipressi, e dentro PumaConfortati di pianto, i forsc il sonnoDelia mortc men ditro ? — Beneath the cypress shade, or in the urnBedewed with tears, thinkst thou the sleep of deathIs less profound ? — Enjoy life! Onwards, driver! Carry us onward into the midst of life where it seethesand roars amidst a thousand enjoyments great and small, and where the light-heartedpopulace leads its careless existence. Onwards, into the palpitating heart o
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Keywords: ., bookauthorcavagnasangiulianidig, bookcentury1800, bookdecade1870
