la grazia; " which can hardly be translated by
words that have meaning. Give a beggar-boy a
Paul; by way of thanks, he will pester you for
just one bajocco more.

The truth is, that an Italian, and more
especially a Neapolitan, needs cash more for his
indulgences than for his necessities. Even among
the higher classes, it would be difficult to restrain
the passion for the opera—often, really, so second
rate that it is a hard task to sit it out; and
it seems likewise that there are certain
pleasures which a Neapolitan of the lower orders will
not do without. He must play cards; he must
see Punch; he must idle and lounge about; he
must squeeze into one or several of the numberless
"teatri di giorno" or day theatres; he must
hear story-tellers and reciters; he must eat ices
and drink iced-water; he must occasionally drive
in a calash; and, though he may be in a position
to procure with ease the necessaries of life, these
luxuries cost money. As to the means of obtaining
the required supply, his conscience is very
accommodating. Perhaps those are the honester
set who take to mendicancy to increase their
revenues. The very act of beggary serves to
display the great capabilities of this curious and
interesting people.

The beggars of Naples, both the really
necessitous and those who beg for the sake of pocket
money, are very ingenious as well as persevering.
They have plenty of talk and argument. With
some, it is a favourite plan to pretend to be dumb,
and to make all sorts of hideous inarticulate
noises. Others, acting the idiot, will throw a
beautiful vacancy into their countenances, use
unmeaning gestures, and talk nonsense. They
are not without occasional touches of
eloquence. If you give nothing, and walk away,
you will perhaps hear a long-drawn sigh,
followed by an audible half-aside ejaculation, " Che
cuore duro!" ("What a hard heart!") Or,
"Santa Maria, sono abbandonato da tutti."
("Holy Maria, I am deserted by all.")
Another will plead, " Sono poverello miserabile;
bisogna appoggiarmi. Ecco il pane; andiamo,
compriamo." (" I am a poor dear miserable man,
and I must be supported. There is bread; let
us go and buy some.") If you are followed
more closely than is pleasant, try the experiment
of accosting a soldier under the pretence of
asking your way; your attendant will vanish speedily,
probably through the force of police recollections.
In the Villa Reale there used to be an
old fisherman with his son, who picked up a good
many little coins by exhibiting in a bottle of
seawater the small fish (Pipefish, syngnathus) which
they call " cavallo di mare," or sea-horse. If
you declined looking, or did not give, the old man
would present the boy, and say, " Almexo che il
piccolo vi bacia la mano." (" At least let the
little one kiss your hand.")

A certain force and aptness of expression seem
innate with the Neapolitans. A hackney-coachman,
instead of calling your attention by the
cold method of "Cab, sir; cab!" or its
equivalent, says boldly " Andiamo!" ("Let us be
off!") and suits the action to the word, by making
his carriage advance a yard or two, as if there
were no means of avoiding the bargain. As maccaroni
is a principal article of food at Naples, the word
maccaroni, by the process of metonymy, is made
to signify wages or drink money. Thus a handsome
present is called a good maccaroni, and men
expecting to be well paid for a day's work would
say, " We shall eat long maccaroni to-night."
However light your luggage may be, a facchino,
or porter, will groan on shouldering it, as if it
were extremely heavy, in the hope of increasing
his reward.

Poor Naples! With a soil and climate ready
to produce almost anything, from utilitarian wheat
and hemp to luxurious fruit and luscious wines;
with inexhaustible mineral treasures; with fine
harbours, and with water carriage around seven-
eighths of its circumference; it obtains for itself
only a fraction of what it might, and forgets that,
while enriching the world, it would increase its
own store of riches. But how should there
be commercial enterprise or road-making, when
thousands of monks give the practical lesson
that it is better to beg than to work? How
should population be as numerous as it ought,
when ten thousands of persons of both sexes
are shut up in enforced celibacy? How should
there be advanced agriculture or skilful
pasturage, when the countryman is taught that
sufficient for the day is the food thereof? To
do a short task that will buy a meal, to sleep in
the sun, to fight for the odious Bourbon if there
be a row in the city, has long been considered the
whole duty of Neapolitan man. To learn to read,
is to expose one's soul to danger, besides being an
unnecessary toil and vexation; to learn to write
is needless, while you can get a letter written for
you on payment of a few small copper coins.

And yet, in spite of all this, Naples has been
electrified into life. She would fain realise a
resurrection from ignorance and indolence; she would
gladly blend with the people of the north and
follow the guidance of Victor Emmanuel. But the
scarlet spiders nestled in the vacuole, demur.
They are too fond of cobwebs that catch human
prey, to let their nets be swept away without
resistance. No better means occur to them than
to recruit bands of butchers to murder the sheep
who refuse the Bourbon as their shepherd.

Cardinal Antonelli's speech: "We don't look
at things from the same point of view as you do,"
fully explains the condition of things in the
Roman and the Neapolitan States. A child is
more easily governed than a man; therefore men
are to be kept intellectually children for the whole
term of their lives. A priest teaches all they
need to know; therefore, one of the rarest
creatures in Italy is a good and capable schoolmaster.
A schoolmaster would be an instigator of inquiry,
of private judgment, of heresy, of rebellion
against the Church. A series of "object
lessons," followed by popular lectures on physical science,
would put an end to the shedding of