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LIFE OF COLONEL MACERONI.

plaster of burning wax and rosin. He felt the consequencesmost severely and appropriately by the loss of a large por-tion of his skin, and a long confinement, during which hispeccant mouth was closed by bandages, and treated withnought else but weak and washy potions.

Mr. Bottalin had a charming villa at Mergelina, close tothat which once belonged to the celebrated latin poet Sannaz-zario. One day, 16th July 1804,1 had been diving, and rowing,and fishing in the waters which washed the road before thehouse, when tired, and lulled by the cool evening breeze,stretched upon one of the huge blocks of lava, which forma break-water along the Posilipo road, I fell fast asleep. Itappears that I had slept about an hour, when I was suddenlyawakened by a violent shaking of the rock on which I lay,together with a strange clatter of the lava masses knockingone against the other. Scarcely had I opened my eyes and earsto the wondrous sounds and motion which awoke me, whena general cry, and shout, and scream, and sudden rush ofmen, women, and children from every house, (and T couldsee around for several miles,) filled me with astonishmentand bound me to the spot! The repeated heaving of theearth, and several fearful waves advancing upon me fromthe unruffled sea—the cry of Terremoto ! Terremoto !—flashed into my mind the perception of the passing earth-quake !

The apparently magic waves had wet me to the middle,and well nigh dragged me back with them in their return.With difficulty I hired a boat, and hastened to the house ofMr. Bottalin in the strada Toledo. Along the shore thou-sands of people were rushing on board all sorts of vessels—Others were carrying their beds and furniture on to thebeach. Processions of priests, and monks, and women withtinkling bells and cries of lamentation, following the“ Host,” or kneeling round some priest upon a barrel, were