Eight Bells 



a ship just weighing anchor for the Bay 

 of Naples; and at break of day the sun 

 rose gloriously behind Vesuvius. 



I don't see why Bulwer-Lytton and 

 a thousand other gifted travelers 

 haven't done fuller justice to the 

 Neapolitan coast. Marion Crawford 

 lived long enough in Italy to have 

 written even better than he did. And 

 artists in droves have sketched all the 

 way down from Sorrento to the Saler- 

 nian Gulf, but quite in vain. There 

 are some things I suppose that can 

 only be seen and felt not com- 

 municated. Doubtless there are men 

 who would prefer a seat in Congress 

 or the Cabinet to one at the Capuchini, 

 but they could do more good to their 

 souls, if not to their country, by serving 

 a term on Amalfi's heights. If you 

 would know the poverty of all the dia- 

 monds and the sapphires in this world 

 go study that shimmering sea from 

 the ancient monastery's walls. 



Out there in front of our window in 

 [167] 



