CATARACTS, AND INUNDATIONS. 75 



casion an overflow of the low ground which it encircles, conformably 

 to what Horace says in reckoning the occupations of his bailiff, 

 Ep. 14. B. 1. " The river, afler a fall of rain, affords an additional 

 employment for your idleness, to be taught at the expense of many 

 a mound to spare the sunny meadow." 



The bailiff's complaint that " that corner of the land would bear 

 pepper and frankincense sooner than the grape,'* is thus far just, 

 that the grapes do not succeed so kindly as the hardier fruit trees, 

 and still produce that rough kind of wine which Horace so frequently 

 describes. 



THIS WAS MY WISH ; a farm not over large, 



A garden, and amid the neighbouring hills 



A fountain, and o'er these a little wood 



The Gods have more and better given me 



'Tis well" Book 2nd. Sat. 6. 



In an orchard, through which trickles the water from the neigh- 

 bouring spring crowned with the incumbent woods of Lucrttilis, 

 is found a considerable fragment of mosaic pavement, which may, 

 with the highest degree of probability, be deemed a relic of the 

 house of Horace. 



The ground is well strewed with fragments of various marbles, 

 such as might be supposed to ornament the retreat of the elegant 

 favourite ot Maecenas ; at the same time that no massy or magnifi- 

 cent ruins remain to give the lie to his professions of philosophic 

 moderation. I have picked up some specimens which I hope to 

 bring you home, and a bit of glass, which appears much of the 

 same sort with thai found amongst the ruins of Herculaneum. 



Adjoining the vineyard is a beautiful little chesnut grove, at the 

 foot of which winds the river I must now beg leave to call the 

 Digentia. 



In this delightful spot, which through different openings of the 

 trees presents almost every object v.r nhy ot note in the di.-si viptions 

 of Horace, relative to this place you will readily believe I pa^ed 

 a few hours very agreeably, without any other company than that 

 of Horace. 



I had taken up my lodging at the house of the arch-priest, who 

 is a Portuguese ex-jesuit, a very civil man and not ill-formed. I 

 had the pleasure of finding in his library (which by the bye was the 



