the walls, and have heads lively enough to
fancy all the rest.

Let us continue our walk, now, and we
shall observe, in most of the open spaces,
strings of literature, parallel strings, slack-
ropes on which stories, ballads, and romances,
dance in the wind. You have such literature
in your own streets. Here the woodcut on
the first page of each work is continued, so
that it will represent whatever you please,
king, cowslip, church, or crocodile. The
mystery is pleasant to the lazzaroni, and
they have fancies able to complete the
pictures, each man to his own respective
taste. Here we are, in the Largo di Castello,
mob's elysium. There is a little ragamuffin
sleeping in his basket; there is another wide
awake, and peeping into Signor's pocket.
Here is Pulcinella, centre of a laughing crowd,
and we have passed a host of petty theatres.
Look at this army of eyes intent upon the
literary wonders of a slack rope, which a
learned friend is slowly spelling over for the
multitude of ears. These publications for
the many have not been prohibited, at any
rate:—"The ridiculous contest which took
place between the Cat and the Mouse;"
"The story of Florindo and Chiarastella;"
"History of the death of Marzia Basile, who
was decapitated for the cruel death inflicted
upon her Husband for the sake of her Lover;"
with such profitable matter, of which I have
taken the trouble to read a great deal before
I take upon myself to inform you that it is
such garbage as one might expect. No
priest, however, is required to exercise a
moral censorship over the people's literature,
so long as it touches upon no question
political or ecclesiastical. Whether it be defiled
or undefiled does not concern the church.

That is the great bulk of the people's
reading; but we may as well step into this
bookseller's shop. There is a good deal of
orthodox theology, and law, and a little
abstract science—the agglomeration of dry
titles is as the agglomeration of sand grains
in a small Sahara. The bookseller, seeing
us to be strangers, knits his brows: he fears
lest we be come to denounce some of his
books. We set him at ease by putting a ray
of sun into our faces; light of any kind, actual
or metaphorical, being antagonism to the
principle which upholds an Expurgatory Index.
"Have you such a book?" I ask. "No,
sir, it is prohibited as immoral, because it
contained some anatomical plates. I have
many copies at the Custom-house, but they
were all seized. They made me pay duty for
them, though."—"Have you the translation of
Goldsmith's History of England?"—"Bless
you, sir, no; it contains an account of
the Reformation."—"Well, but I don't see
either of these books prohibited in the
Expurgatory Index."—"Dio mio, Signor, that
is no guide! We have the Papal Index, and
the Royal Index, and we have the priests,
who stop and suppress at the Custom-house
any book they please. They suppress
everything," says the bookseller, spitefully; "my
trade is gone. Heaven knows what will
become of me!"

Here is another bookseller, determined to
do business, who dangles ostentatiously a
catalogue before his door. Now let us see
what kind of books the government of Naples
has left for the delectation of the people. I
will read you at random a few titles:
"Examination and ondemnation of the Sovereignty
of the People before the Tribunal of Reason
and Faith." "Rhymes in Honour of the
most Holy Virgin from the Thirteenth
Century." "The Fall of the Republic in England.''
"Devotions at Calvary." "The Month of
June consecrated to the most Holy Blood of
our Lord Jesus Christ."History of the
Origin and Effect of the New Miraculous
Medal of the most Holy Virgin Mary."
And so on. These are the sort of books
licensed to the press at Naples. There is
also "A collection of good books in favour of
Truth and Virtue," not only sanctioned, but
industriously circulated, by the government.
It is addressed "to princes, bishops,
magistrates, teachers of youth, and all men of
good intentions," who are invited "to diffuse
these elements, and present copies of them
to all." They condemn the doctrines of
liberal philosophers as "producing the downfall
of religion, the horrors of war, the lamentation
of mothers, and the general misery of
a people!" The signs are then given by
which these firebrands may be known. The
scholar asks whether "all who wear
moustaches and whiskers are liberal philosophers?"
And is told in answer that the chief outward
sign of a man's being dangerous and liberal
is a demi-peruque. Mr. Gladstone has told
you how one of these little books teaches
solemnly, that a prince who has sworn an
oath to his people is not bound to keep it
unless he please. I will pass on to another,
"Prose and Verse; useful pastime for the
Autumn Holidays." This is a book for children,
alternating from the comic to the sentimental.
There is a series of receipts in it for the treatment
of democrats. Here are some comic
bits. For an impious democrat "a gallows"
is recommended: "apply it immediately to
the sick man, and the cure is effected in a
few minutes."—"For an ambitious democrat,
use the pillory;" and so on. The book ends
with a "story." The writer recounts in this
an imaginary visit to a lunatic asylum at
Aversa, where most of the patients are
politically mad. Some shouted, Viva la Libertà!
A bankrupt merchant was mad for equality;
some had a reformed creed in view; some
were planning constitutions; and some were
bellowing the Marseillaise and the Carmagnola,
mingling with them blasphemies of the
Madonna.

This is the only literature which is
accessible to the Lazzaroni—the lower orders—of
Naples. With the hot iron of an Expurgatory