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e Thursday evening – September
1st, 1859.
I have spent the day most usefully and with intense
gratification chiefly in the Great Royal Museum
in which are gathered ^preserved^ the statuary the paintings
the inscriptions and the relics of ^the^ ancient Roman
empire, gathered from the ruins of Pompeii
Herculaneum, Stabiae, Portentia, Baiae Paestum
and even ^many^ from ^the ruins of^ Rome itself, which the
Neapolitan Government has caused to be
procured. The collection is far greater than
any one at Rome, perhaps greater than all
at Rome. In the imagination I can replace
their statues porticoes columns, and relics
in the very cities, nay in the very homes
where they for years even perhaps for
centuries ministered to the piety, the enjoyments
and the vices of generations long since buried
under the h iron heel of the Goths
or the burning lava and ashes of
incensed volcanos. But what would it
avail you — to give a description of a few or
to attempt a recital of a catalogue of the

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The collection fills 12 museum
halls – and the ^printed^ catalogue with a ^mean^ drawing of
each that is most notable costs four dollars.
I will bring you this catalogue. Let it suffice
that the collection presents you with the
idols ^and altars^ of the heathen worship from the
dawn of literature in Greece, with specimens
of Rome and even of Grecian ^sculpture and^ painting through
the whole of the history of these two states
and with the busts are full life statues
of the Grecian ^& Roman^ Kings Statesmen philosophers
poets and orators, so that antiquity [ sees ]
brought up directly into your presence as
you linger along the aisles of the chambers –
Leaving the Museum, we traversed the
apartments of the principal Royal palace
and learned how well the Modern Artists
have wandered approached the medieval
perfection in painting, and we surveyed this
and strolled through the Royal gardens,
visiting the Cemeteries of the rich, and of the
poor. In sepulchral architecture the
Neapolitans excel us far, but they

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fall behind us in applying to them the embell-
ishment of Horticulture –
The earth it seems to us can afford
no place where human life is so deeply
maintained as in Southern Italy, nor any
population more cheerful vivacious and
gay. Yet there is little wealth here
and what there is is unequally distributed.
Begging comes by nature to all the common
people. They never beg of their own countrymen
who know them too well – but a stranger
cant stop a moment in the street or even
pass through it gently without being beset
by all forms and desires of mendacity.
The Children who know no want and
are seen cheerfully doing errands or playing
in the street leave all and follow your
carriage singing their pleads. If they fail to
gain a "gram" of copper they resume their
errands or play as gay as ever. A sore
eye or a deformed leg is capital for the
owner and a pardon. You can hold no
body to a bargain. Even as soon as the
contributor has begun his undertaking he begins

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to beg for extra Allowances or gratuities. Two
three or four persons are crowded into service
to do the proper work of one, and each of
their supervisors like the principal begs for
" bouno mamus" at every turn.
Still there is an Italian society
in the midst of all this that is respectable
independent and I suppose moral and
virtuous. I regret that my stay is so
short as to oblige me to decline the
invitations of some friends which would
bring me into conversation with this society
and with the Court now retreating at
Castellano.