154 BROWN : NAPLES. 



the scenery utterly meaningless. The work of man, pure and 

 simple, what it can be and what it must come to. There is 

 not a traveling recollection of my life that I would not 

 sooner part with. 



And when we think of it, there are so many places that 

 owe their interest altogether to the work of man. Scotland is 

 a pottering, little, pocket edition, but the work of man, bloody 

 or kindly, destructive or productive, as the case may be, has 

 made that of it which takes people there from every point of 

 the compass. What is the River Rhine to our Hudson, and 

 yet who cares for the Hudson when the Rhine is in question ? 

 It is the castled crag of Drachenfels. It is Ehrenbreitstein, 

 the " broad rock of honor," the banks that bear the vine and 

 then the scattered cities crowning these, whose far, white walls 

 along them shine, which turn what we should be half inclined 

 to call a creek into a world landmark. 



Think of the Thames at London, not so big as the Schuyl- 

 kill ; but with its docks ! And so of a hundred other places. 



It seems to me that Browning never was more a poet than 

 when he wrote ' ' Love Among the Ruins ' ' — 



" But he looked upon the city, every side, 



Far and wide. 

 All the mountains topped with temples, all the glades' 



Colonnades, 

 All the causej's, bridges, aqueducts, — and then. 



All the men ! " 



I venture to say that there is only one thing which awes 

 one like the glorified work of man, and that is something that 

 is wholly out of the reach of man. Something visible, but 

 inaccessible, unapproachable, majestic — a Chimborazo from 

 far out at sea, or a Dwalaghiri from down among the deodars 

 — the sea itself — a sailing planet, if 3'ou like. 



Do me the justice to realize that while making the well 

 known " pezzo di cielo caduto in terra," this piece of heaven 

 fallen to earth, as the people call it, a subject of discourse, I 

 have not detained you overmuch in mere uninteresting Naples. 



