some old walls with their picks and spades, and in so doing unearthed
statues, a colonel of engineers named Don Rocco Alcubierra asked
permission of the king to make excavations in the vicinity. The king
consented and placed a dozen of galley-slaves at the colonel's
disposition. Thus it was that by a lucky chance a military engineer
discovered the city that we are about to visit. Still, eight years more
had to roll away before any one suspected that it was Pompeii which they
were thus exhuming. Learned folks thought they were dealing with Stabiæ.

Shall I relate the history of these underground researches, "badly
conducted, frequently abandoned, and resumed in obedience to the same
capriciousness that had led to their suspension," as they were? Such are
the words of the opinion Barthelemy expressed when writing, in 1755, to
the Count de Caylus. Winkelmann, who was present at these excavations a
few years later, sharply criticised the tardiness of the galley-slaves
to whom the work had been confided. "At this rate," he wrote, "our
descendants of the fourth generation will still have digging to do among
these ruins." The illustrious German hardly suspected that he was making
so accurate a prediction as it has turned out to be. The descendants of
the fourth generation are our contemporaries, and the third part of
Pompeii is not yet unearthed.

The Emperor Joseph II. visited the excavations on the 6th of April,
1796, and complained bitterly to King Ferdinand IV. of the slight degree
of zeal and the small amount of money employed. The king promised to do
better, but did not keep his word. He had neither intelligence nor
activity in prosecuting this immense task, excepting while the French
occupation lasted. At that time, however, the government carried out the
idea of Francesco La Vega, a man of sense and capacity, and purchased
all the ground that covered Pompeii. Queen Caroline, the sister of