June 4th.—San Gennaro in compagnia con la Madonna, hamio fatto fermare la lava! I heard announced with much emphasis, yesterday afternoon, in a German bookseller's shop, by some Italian gentlemen, who smiled with a disbelieving air. In the mean time, the danger of the eruption is actually over for the present, and the streams of lava have ceased to flow. It is asserted that at least forty thousand Lazaroni and Facchini have, in consequence, been disappointed in their hopes, and, that they have watched with avaricious, longing glances, the increasing eruption which promised them the opportunity of plunder, and of enriching themselves during some great and general devastation. From the appearance of these people, I could very well believe it.
The population of Naples produces really a sorrowful and repulsive impression. In Rome, the people stand about idle, or sit in the streets; here they lie on the streets like dogs, when they are not bawling or fighting—especially the half or wholly naked boys. They are like savages. The countenances are in general extremely unpleasant, the lower part of the face projecting; the mouth large, with bad teeth, and gaps between them. The beautiful human type which you see in the higher class of Italians and in Rome, is not found here; and still less the Roman bearing and dignity. One seems to behold a lower race of humanity, which acknowledges no worth, but that of carlini and grani. The eyes, however, are often beautiful, remarkably bright, but they readily acquire a savage expression. There is something of Vesuvius and Masaniello in every one of these Neapolitan street-
