The Monticellonian., 1915-09-02

OZLOOLI
 place, but from other causes the same name might be applied to the mod ern Pozzuoli.
 Yet here we can look upon many of the things which St. Paul saw; the sea itself, fresh and clean as ever; the eneircling hills, no less beautiful in their spring greenery than on that spring day when Paul sailed within their encircling arms. We can even see the r piers of the great mole which stretched far out into the bay, within whose shelter vessels anchored, one the Alexandrian grain ship on which Paul had arrived. Today we can see the ruins of the temple of Serapis. or the splendid marketplaee IS it is now thought to be, which very likely was in it's pristine glory when Paul landed
 Tens of thousands of travellers from many lands sail into the famous har- Dor of Naples every year, but com paratively few of them realize how near they are to the footsteps of St. dul, dHd AO " dIlti d u ioIlVy ride from the city. they can plant their feet where he trod
 Let us take the electric car froP Largo Vittoria, where the beautifp park, Naples famous promenade ant' Rotten Row. begins; park that stretches for nearly a mile along the water front Soon, however, we get beyond the fashionable quarters and the innumerable hotels. The car makes it's slow way through a slummy re zion where the air is rent with the raucous cries for which noisy Naples is famous, and the nose is assailed by more than the seventy odors of Go logne
 Tunnel Under Posilipo.
 Shortly a tunnel is reached under the green hills of Posilipo. tunnel almost as ancient as Naples itself, for it was dug by the Romans to avoid the steep climb over the preeip- itous tufa rocks of Posilipo. Seneca, we are told, grumbled at the dust and darkness and the odor of this tunnel, and they have not been improved since his day The noise is deafening from the chatter of horses hoofs, the pat ter of herds of goats. the grinding tor ture of the electric car wheels. and above all the brazen throats of the Ne apolitans who urge on their donkeys with an indescribable noise, guttu- ral and grating, which seems to come from the innermost parts of their anat- omy.
 Another slum awaits us at the other side of the grotto, followed by vine yards and orange groves and truck farms, until, after a ride of four or five miles, the last part of which affords glorious views of the bay and it's islands. which never lose their charm. we at last find ourselves in an other slum, more hopeless than any we have yet seen on the way, and find that we have at last reached the old Puteoli, and that the electric car leaves us but few steps from the spot where the great apostle must have come ashore
 The immediate surroundings of the great pier where St. Paul landed are as filthy as any other part of Pozzuoli. Indescribable old hags leer at us from the doorways. ragged and dirty chil- dren, wholly unacquainted with the use of pocket handkerchief. swarm around us. Several small fishing boats are drawn up on the shore, and a little church, called St. Pauls Chap el. stands immediately behind the an- cient mole.
 The modern pier, built over the an cient mole. is truly magnificent one of solid cut stone, which runs far out into the sweet, clean water and by going out to the far end we get be- yond the reach of the importunate tout. If one can forget the approaches | to the pier, he can here enjoy the en- chanting scenery of sea and shore, | while his mind is stimulated by mem | ories of the mighty past. But the volcanoes have brought blessings as well as curses, for the ash which they pour forth becomes in few years a soil of almost incredi- ble fertility, like the volcanic soil of the Yakima valley on our own Pacific | coast