the way. You really must go, too. Protestants and unbelievers are found visiting the Sanctuary, it is such a wonder -a miracle of faith and of modern philanthropy; a shrine where prodigies of supernatural power put scepticism to confusion; a city that at the Virgin's bidding has risen from the ashes of pagan Pompei !'

The zealots have learned their lesson well; their voices faithfully echo the utterances of the Sanctuary and of its promoters. We set forth towards New Pompei.

Our way is the usual railway ride from Naples towards ancient Pompei. Skirting the Bay along the lower slopes of Vesuvius, we pass over lava-beds, over buried cities half unearthed, where the victims of long-past volcanic convulsions are still discovered. We note the bridge, graced by the effigy of St. Januarius, with hand outstretched towards the volcano, as if to command its fiery streams to stay. The Bay opens out before us. Naples is seen behind us, piled up on terraced heights towards the crowning fortress of St. Elmo, with the white convent of San Martino before it. Across the blue waters of the Bay we look towards the Sorrentine promontory, and discern beyond it the fair isle of Capri, and Ischia in the remoter distance. There, far away, is Cape Misenum, there Pozzuoli, the Puteoli of the Acts; there renowned Baiæ, the pleasure resort of luxurious Rome in its Imperial days. Nearing Pompei, we have on our right the sea, on our left the heights of Vesuvius. The hollow of the Atrio del Cavallo divides the active cone from the serrated rocks of Monte Somma. This vast hollow is the now silent crater of what was a single mountain in the terrible year A.D. 79, when from that great crater suddenly burst forth the rivers of molten lava, and the dense clouds of vapour, ashes, and lapilli which overwhelmed Herculaneum, Pompei, Stabiæ, and many other cities on the mountain and along the shore.

Doubtless among the pilgrims there will be some sincere Romanists who are alive to the enchantments of the scene, and some acquainted with the glories of its past. For them

this will be the most delightful pilgrimage possible, for to the beauty of the scene and to its unequalled historic associations are added extraordinary spiritual attractions. The earnestly believing Roman Catholic pilgrim, studying his 'Guide to the Sanctuary,' reads: 'Each Mass said at any one of the altars frees one soul from Purgatory.' He learns that he is approaching the Throne, the Pavilion, the chosen Dwelling-place of the "Queen of Heaven"; and he cherishes the hope that not only is he acquiring merit by this pilgrimage to Her favoured shrine, but that She may deign to reward his faith by some special miracle worked on his behalf when he has knelt in homage before Her wonder-working picture.

Is it not the boast of the guardians of the Sanctuary that, since its erection, the 'Queen of Heaven' has taken the oftendestroyed cities near Valle di Pompei under Her special guardianship, and has suffered no great harm to come to them? Look at Torre del Greco, the seven times destroyed city, seven times rebuilt, and note the prosperous aspect it wears to-day, thanks to the holy Mother of God' adored in the neighbouring Sanctuary.

The Neapolitan pilgrims are telling stories of the helplessness of 'commonplace saints and Madonnas of no special eminence' to stay the threatening lava-flow in former eruptions; but their trust is constant in the great and mighty Madonna of New Pompei to avert all future catastrophes from the region honoured by Her presence. Was not Her shrine singled out for especial patronage by the Pope so devoutly attached to the cult of the Blessed Virgin, Leo XIII. himself?

From Torre del Greco the train runs on past Torre Annunziata and Torre Centrale to the station of Pompei. Strangely sounds that name as called out by the guard at a modern railway-station-the name of Pompei, the City of the Dead, where every successive excavation is a new revelation of the past. But we are not now concerned with the history of that once gay and luxurious little city, suddenly smitten in the pride of its sin, and mysteriously preserved, the embalmed corpse of dead Roman life, for the wonder and the awe of

to-day. We think rather of the connection existing between the old Pompei and the new.

The founders of the Sanctuary insist much on that connection. It was, they say, the Madonna's will expressly revealed which determined their choice of the site; it was Her command that on the spot where all the vices of the old pagan world had held high carnival, on the land close to the old pagan amphitheatre, She would choose to manifest Her glory in wonders of healing for the regeneration of society, for the redemption of the age, for the 'restitution of all things.'

6

The train runs on to the station of Valle di Pompei, only a little mile' further; and the pilgrims, leaving the train, betake themselves to the broad road leading to the Sanctuary. It is used for the Stations of the Cross, and styled the Via Sacra, like a more famous ancient pagan road. At the top of this Sacred Way stands the cluster of buildings which constitute New Pompei, the 'City of the Queen of Heaven 'the domed church, the orphanage, the tower used as a meteorological observatory, the Hospice for the Children of Criminals.' It cannot be denied that admirable discretion has been shown in the choice of a site, whether we ascribe that choice to the command of the Virgin, with the founders, or to their own merely human foresight and business instinct, according to the judgment of jealous detractors. Here are all the charms of the loveliest scenery of earth blended with the unequalled interest of ancient Pompei, where met the olden Oscan, Greek, and Roman civilizations. Above us towers the threatening height of Vesuvius, with its ever-burning fires, the mountain in whose caverns Spartacus gathered his army of revolted slaves, and whence he led them to their heroic but ineffectual battle against the tyranny of Rome. Beyond stands the Castle of Nocera, associated with legend and history of more modern times. Certainly Bartolo Longo, the founder of the Sanctuary, and his Countess-wife were well advised when they resolved to instal this new wonder-working shrine in so attractive a situation. They were not blind to the picturesqueness of the moral contrast between the evil fame of old Pompei and the glories of their own deified Patroness, nor to the

perilous charm of a new miraculous centre of world pilgrimage placed under the very shadow of Vesuvius; rather do they insist on the Divine wisdom of the heavenly mandate which, as they assert, compelled their choice. It may be added also that there was considerable worldly wisdom in locating the Sanctuary so near Naples, the largest and busiest city of Italy, the commercial centre of the South, the meeting-place of countless travellers passing between the Old World and the New, between the British Isles and Greater Britain. For not a few of these pilgrims of pleasure, of commerce, of art, and of antiquarian research are induced to join in the pilgrimage to the Sanctuary of the Madonna of the Rosary at New Pompei.

L

II

'WHAT WENT YE OUT TO SEE?'

EAVING the train at Valle di Pompei, we ascend the

Sacred Way. If it be one of the great festa days

of May or October, we shall find it thronged. Train after train coming in brings crowds of pilgrim visitors, some intent on acquitting themselves of heart-felt vows made in hours of distress, in homes shadowed by sorrow or sin, in dark days of sickness or impending death; some moved by curiosity, enjoying an outing agreeably flavoured by religion; some, wholly untouched by pious feeling, acting as escort to a devouter relative, and evidently weary of the ceremonial routine-a dear price to pay for the carousal that forms no unfrequent part of this religious picnic.

The Via Sacra is thinly bordered by houses, beginning with the 'Trattoria' outside the railway-station. This does a brisk business, much aided by its agents, who mingle with the crowd. A more distinguished restaurant, avowedly run in the interests of the Sanctuary, stands at the upper end of the Via Sacra, where it forms an angle with the great Provincial Road leading in one direction to Salerno, in the other to Naples and the various centres of the Southern Provinces. On this highway, fronting the Bay, and stretching back toward the slopes of Vesuvius, stand the clustered buildings of New Pompei, dominated by the church, as we have already described them.

Again we admire the admirable judgment which has ruled this choice of site. Bands of pilgrims approach in both directions, from Naples and from Salerno, from Torre and from Travelling on foot, on donkeys, in carts,

Cava and Nocera.