But louder rose the terrible voice of ruin
Over their mirth, ‘be still’d,’ and all was hush’d!
Save the short shudd’ring cries that rose unheard—
The up-turn’d glances from a thousand homes,
Thro’ the red closing surge! awful groan
Of agitated Nature! while beneath,
Ten thousand victims turn’d to die:—above
Bright sunbeams lit the plain—a nameless tomb.”—Maturin.
Absorbed in feelings of the most melancholy, but tenderest nature, we commenced our return to Naples, where we arrived about five o’clock in the evening.
We experienced much thunder and lightning for a day or two, which, on the 7th were succeeded by a clear hot day. In the evening, I took a drive in a carriage, in company with Dr. K⸺ to the Lake Agnano. On our way, we passed the Grotto del Cani, or Dog’s Cave, which has the quality of being fatal to that animal when taken into it, whereas the human subject can remain within it uninjured. The cause of this phenomenon admits of easy explanation. A quantity of carbonic acid gas is disengaged from apertures, or chinks in the sides of the cavern, and from its greater specific gravity than atmospheric air, falls to the floor which is somewhat lower than the entrance: it is consequently retained there, producing its peculiar noxious effects on animals of low stature when introduced into it,—as a common-sized dog; while others of a superior height, not having their organs of respiration immersed in the injurious fluid, remain in the cave with impunity. Thus readily does philosophy, in this instance, overturn the errors of superstition; for the peculiarities of this cavern, were formerly attributed to the influence of a vengeful deity.