sooner are the scrapings of the counterbass, accompanied by the whistling flageolet, heard, than the crowd begin to assemble. In winter these exercises are transferred to some big room; and in both cases, it is hardly necessary to say, women take no part, not even as spectators. They pass their Sundays agreeably, in complete repose seated outside their doors, dressed in their best clothes, and displaying, with serene satisfaction, the many rings, pendants, and huge earrings of rare beauty, inherited for many past generations, and which possses an individual character that the connoisseur at once recognizes.

The natural outgrowth of the subservience and restraints under which women are held is a jealousy which is manifested in ways that would be tolerated in no other country in Europe. I heard of a gentleman, living near Catania-and this was no solitary instance-who still locks up his wife whenever he goes a-journeying. An Anglo-Sicilian lady of my acquaintance, meeting with an accident to her carriage in a country road, was courteously helped in her trouble by a gentleman who was passing. He took her to his house hard by, and hospitably entertained her, while at messenger was despatched to the neighboring town, for another carriage. Her host was a Marchese, and married; yet the lady of the house never appeared, nor was any apology made for her non-appearance indeed, no hint was given that any such person existed. But when my friend learned, a few day later, that such was the case, wishing to pay some tribute of respect to the unseen lady, whose husband had been so helpful, she called on her, and was received by a slatternly female, who seemed to have just emerged from the kitchen. This was the Marchesa. She returned my friend's visit, however, in due course of time, resplendent in velvet and lace, driving in a coach with powdered footmen, which would have done credit to Rome or Naples. For the pride and the love of display inherent in Sicilians are as marked characteristics as the seclusion in which ladies, in remote districts, are still kept. Those who never offer so much as a cup of coffee to their acquaintances, in the great towns, are to be seen driving daily in magnificent equipages; and if they cannot obtain, or afford, boxes in the first tier at the Opera, will not go there at all.

The young gentlemen,

who sit at

home at ease" in Palermo, moving in a narrow groove of prejudice and sensual pleasures, with no ambition to rise to a higher intellectual platform, no interest in art or literature, no suspicion that there is progress in the free world of thought outside the close hot-bed of Sicilian society, are certainly less intelligent, less ready to learn, than the peasantry. They toil not, neither do they spin, but in other respects the likeness to the lilies of the field does not hold good, though an avidity to be arrayed like Solomon, in all his glory, is not wanting. If they travel, they bring back with them nothing but English clothes neither new ideas, nor keen desire for human progress, in the spheres wherein they move. Whereas the uneducated peasant, in his three years' military service, does keep his eyes open, and acquires knowledge which he often turns profitably to account. He has noted various systems of husbandry in the maize-fields of Piedmont, the vineyards and olive-groves of Tuscany. He has met skilled artisans in the great industrial centres of Italy; he does not return to his native village the same man that he went forth. One who, from his official position, has been thrown much with the Sicilian peasantry, said to me, "Progress in this land will rise from below, not descend from above."

It would be rash to affirm that brigandage is extinct; but for the time being, at least, this terror to wayfarers of substance, whether natives or strangers, has faded into the background. By a euphemism which I do not think facts justify, the island is said to be purged of such malefactors. Yet a recent trial elicited facts which show that spoliation and murder have been carried on in a genteel, unobtrusive way quite lately, and that the perpetrators of these misdeeds enjoyed immunity from "persecution"; for this is the term systematically employed by Vincenzo Linares, in his account of Antonio, the famous bandit.

The story to which I have referred cannot, for obvious reasons, be told in all its crudity; but this much may be said.

At a princely villa near Palermo, during some repairs last year, several skeletons were found, all of which must have been secretly, and some not very long since, committed to the ground. One of the workmen employed indiscreetly named the

in others.

In

circumstance he should have known better; the next day he was stabbed. the hospital, nothing would make him reveal the name of his assailant, fearing the vengeance of the Mafia, which would pursue his family. But in curious illustration of the Sicilian character, though deaf to the voice of justice, the instinct of revenge was as strong in him as he knew it to be On his death-bed he sent for his son, and enjoined him to pursue the murderer, whom he denounced, to the death. The "Mafiosi" could not interfere with that; for was it not a common and legitimate act of retribution? It was by this means only, that two officers of the law, who were concealed under the bed, learned the name of the guilty man. He was one of a band, who, from time to time, spirited away a peddler, or other obscure person, known to have money about him, concerning whom no persistent in quiries were likely to be made. The chief of this band was the steward of the great family in question, where, for reasons variously assigned, he enjoyed high favor. The protection afforded to such miscreants by noble personages, on the understanding that they and theirs were never to be molested, was a matter of common notoriety when brigandage was rife. The writer I have above referred to states openly that Antonio Testalonga-who is depicted as a sort of modern Robin Hood, chivalrous to women, beneficent to the poor-was protected by the Prince Trabia of that day, (1767) until some petty depredation in his house having been traced to one of Antonio's followers, the Prince's ire was roused, and the bandit's " persecution'' began, which ended in his capture and

death.

66

I have alluded to the Mafia, a name

which probably conveys to most English

readers no idea of the subterranean con

fraternity by the ramifications of which a great part of Sicilian society is still undermined. It is described by a writer in the present year in terms which I may paraphrase thus

The Mafia has seized, in every department of life, whether public or private, an arbitrary power, which is exercised by every means, legal or illegal, for the benefit of its adherents. It may be said to be a State within the State-a secret conspiracy, having for its object the usurpation of authority, and the invasion of order: extending over every possible field, and rooted so deeply in the hearts

of the people as, apparently, to be ineradicable. The close relationship of the Mafia with brigandage is, for the time being, in abey ance; but the illicit nature of the association is not diminished thereby.

the "Mafia." The

66

The writer goes on to describe a condition of affairs which resembles boycotting carried to its extremest limits, toward those who are not affiliated as members of Mafiosi," on the other hand, are helped by every possible their private means, in carrying out schemes, whether it be for the purchase of a property, the possession of a wife, or the imposition of their own services on a who do not belong to the Brotherhood. customer, or employer, in lieu of those Under the dominion of successive strangers, it is not difficult to see how the prejudice in favor of such a secret society originated, and has grown to be inveterate in Sicily. A tragedy which occurred while I was at Palermo gives an even more conthan the story I have already related. vincing proof of the power of the Mafia

Two brothers of a noble house, first cousins to the Duke di V. R. resided with their mother and sister in a house near the Girardino Inglese. The father being dead, the payment of the girl's dowry depended on her marrying, and this the young men resolved, if possible, to prevent. The mother, on the other hand, encouraged the advances of an officer, whose attenlimited to walking up and down under her tions to her daughter seem to have been window, until he obtained permission—in the sons' absence-to call. This young nian bore a blameless character, and was highly esteemed by his brother officers; well received as a suitor for the girl's hand; there was no reason why he should not be

but her brothers refused to allow it. Un

derhand intrigues of the usual Sicilian

character followed. The mother and

daughter put up a signal to denote when

* I had scarcely written these pages when the news of Signor Arago's seizure by brigands near Termini reached me. Reading, as I had done, M. Guy de Maupassant's indignant denial, in La Vie Errante, that any such danger could beset the traveller in Sicily, where he was "safer than in the streets of London or Paris," I could not but feel the unwisdom of any traveller-even the most intelligentindulging in rash and positive assertion. That the "" Mafia" was the organ through which Signor Arago's ransom was paid, and by means of which he was liberated, seems well established.

the coast was clear, and that the young man might with safety visit them. Certain spies informed the brothers of these clandestine meetings; whereupon they one day sent the two ladies into the country on some pretext, and simulated the signal which brought the unsuspecting suitor to the house. Soon after he had entered, cries for help were heard; and then the report of a pistol. The brothers, themselves, shortly afterward called in the police, saying the young officer had committed suicide. He was, indeed, found lying at the foot of the stairs, quite dead. But, as the captain of Carabinieri who investigated the affair observed to me, though the murdered man was shot through the body, the bullet could nowhere be found -neither in the corpse, nor in the wall of the staircase, nor in the floor; which was difficult to reconcile with the theory of suicide. There had probably been a struggle up above, and the body had afterward been thrown down the stairs. Either the bullet was lodged in some part of the room where the murder was committed, or it had been abstracted and made away with. However, this may be, the power of the "Mafia, to which the brothers belong, is so great that it has been impossible to obtain testimony by which they could be convicted, though it is quite certain that some persons were cognizant of their designs. The perjury of these witnesses, and the impossibility of getting any direct evidence, has led to the proceedings being stopped.

In proportion as Sicily is less advanced in civilization than Italy, so is superstition here more obstinate and childish. One of the strangest beliefs of the peasantry is that the soul has its residence in the pit of the stomach, and that to its struggles to escape from imprisonment are due the prolonged agonies of the dying, especially in old age. On issuing from its confinement the spirit enters straightway some other body conveniently situated for the transfer, and there are women (the cases of men, it is asserted, are rarer) in whose stomachs the souls of their father, their mother, and a choice number of relatives are said to have found, simultaneously, an abidingplace. The pains caused by these contending spirits, and the varying moods and influences for good or evil to which the unhappy body, which is the battlefield of so many warring forces, is subject, clearly

prove this. Where rascality and beneficence, hatred and loving kindness dominate alternately one and the same man, is it not clear that divers spirits have entered into him? a psychological thesis supported, indeed, by the testimony of Holy Writ.

The most com

The case of a peasant, one Ciro Spedalieri, condemned in 1886 to eight years' imprisonment for having bewitched another peasant, and caused him frightful physical agonies, shows that superstition is not confined to the lower classes. ical illustration of this was given me, at Palermo, in the story of a certain pious Marchesa, whose husband lay grievously sick. His doctor ordered him certain pills, which he duly swallowed, until one, larger and harder than the rest, stuck in his throat. Having pulled it out, he discovered it was a piece of paper rolled tightly up to represent a pill. His betterhalf had substituted a printed prayer to the Virgin, in the firm conviction that he would derive more benefit thereby than from any drugs. The grandmother of my friend, General S., remembered and described seeing a woman and a priest, as her accomplice in witchcraft, burned at the stake, in the public place at Palermo. As to the belief which prompts the murderer or robber to offer up fervent invocations at the shrine of his patron saint for help and for pardon before the commission of a crime, this parody of piety is the most offensive, as it is the commonest form of superstition still rife in Sicily. Madonna and the saints can be squared to connive at anything if they are only humbly entreated.

I have alluded, in the beginning of this article, to the contrast between Italiansespecially Neapolitans-and Sicilians in making exorbitant charges. The dealers in bric à-brac form an exception, almost humorous in its way, to the honorable rule which I found prevalent in the ordinary transactions of life at Palermo. In no case was I asked more than the just fare for a public carriage or for a boat; but when an ancient casket was brought to me for sale, and 300 francs was demanded for it, the owner-without so much as a word of protest on my part-suddenly exclaimed "I want badly to sell it. will you take it for 150-absolutely the cost price?" Then I shook my head, like a wiser man than I am, and walked away. But the owner's efforts to make me be

come the purchaser of the casket were renewed a few days later. It was in vain I said I didn't want it. Would I make an offer? In desperation I cried out that I should certainly not give more than 75 francs-under the impression that this would silence him. Not at all, it was mine, and with it I carried away the uncomfortable suspicion that I might have got it for 50! The most noble Cavaliere X. keeps an antiquary shop in Palermo, and in his case the modes of procedure are somewhat different. You ask the price of a cabinet. He names 1,000 francs. You say nothing; you do not even so much as raise your eyebrows. Good manners prevent your attempting to beat down the gentleman you know you are to meet at dinner to-night. But there is a go-between standing near. To him you confide that, although you are convinced the cabinet is dirt cheap at the price named, unfortunately you could not afford to give that sum. He whispers, "What are you prepared to give?" You whisper back, You whisper back, as you leave the room, 250." An hour afterward the go-between calls on you and says the Cavaliere will yield it up, as a special favor, for 500. And SO on through all the transactions of this trade.

The mention of these antiquity-dealers reminds me of a sad and, as far as I am aware, a unique distinction possessed by one of them that of having had six children born deaf-and-dumb. The affliction was on neither side hereditary, both his wife's family and his own being a fine and perfectly sound race. His first child was without blemish; but before the birth of the second, which took place during the Revolution, a bomb-shell burst in the wife's s room. The child was born deaf and dumb, and so were the five born subsequently a fact of considerable interest to scientific inquirers, as opposed to certain generally accepted theories. Four of these children are alive in the Deaf and Dumb Asylum here.

To return from this digression to subjects which are more properly within the scope of this article: the duels which frequently take place, and are yet more frequently imminent, in the highest Sicilian society, are the natural result of violent passions and a readiness to take offence uncontrolled by other principles or obligations than those which we may suppose to have been respected in the sixteenth cen

The

tury. The small regard for human life, the mad loves and madder jealousies, the tortuous intrigues and counter-intrigues, are much the same now as then. discipline of public opinion is unfelt, the open condemnation of the world unknown. As an illustration of this I may recount a story of recent occurrence.

A lady, whom I will call the Princess A., has two daughters. The elder has been partly engaged for more than a year to a youth, who shall be represented here as Prince B.'s eldest son. Rings have been exchanged, but there is no formal engagement. Nevertheless, negotiations between the respective mothers of the young couple seem to be bringing matters to a crisis, when an unexpected difficulty arises. The younger daughter of the Princess A. becomes engaged to a certain wealthy Count C., whose half-brother, it appears, killed Prince B.'s brother in a duel some years ago. A disgraceful story, affecting the characters of a inother and a daughter, which it is unnecessary for me to repeat here, even if it were not too complicated and involved to be easily understood, was revealed as the cause of this duel. Suffice it, Prince B. stipulates that Count C.'s brother shall never be admitted into the family circle of which young Prince B is to become a member-a demand which, under the circumstances, does not appear unreasonable. Princess A. is too keenly desirous to secure a rich parti for her younger daughter to submit to these conditions. Feeling no reprehension of the circumstances which might be supposed to cast a shadow on the House of C. she has no personal disinclination to receive any member of it; and as the head of that family is a richer man than young B., the elder daughter is sacrificed, and her engagement is consequently broken off.

But the

Three duels were nearly taking place in as many weeks while I was at Palermo ; and the scene and circumstances of one of these quarrels, which nearly terminated in murder, are sufficiently remarkable to be recorded as a tableau de mœurs. Curious to say, the Count C. of the foregoing story was one of the antagonists; and the alter. cation arose from his insolent demeanor toward a Sicilian gentleman at a public charity ball, given at the theatre. All the great ladies of Palermo were patronesses, and present upon the occasion, and among

the number the Princess A., who looked down from her box upon the immense costume-quadrille, in which her daughter and Count C. took part. The pit was boarded over, and the spectacle, as I beheld it, was picturesque and animated, all the boxes being filled with jewelled ladies, the parterre a moving flower-bed of figures, mostly of the fifteenth century. It was after this dance, when Count C. had conducted his fiancée back to her mother's box, that he thought fit to accost an acquaintance in the pit, who had been taking part in the quadrille, with an impertinent remark, which the other resented. The war of words continued for some little time, until the blood of the unoffending man becom. ing heated, he hit Count C. a blow in the chest. This was quickly answered, and soon the two men, in their fifteenth-century costumes, were rolling on the floor. Count C. being uppermost and let us hopeblind with passion, seized the poignard from his antagonist's belt, and, while ladies shrieked from the boxes above and men bellowed below, was about to plunge the weapon into his opponent, when his was seized and he was dragged off. A duel seemed inevitable, but, owing to the good offices of the General to whom I have already referred, and who is the one authority to whose opinion all submit in difficulties of any kind, this was avoided. It formed the subject of gossip in the city for a day, and then was forgotten, as a thing of no importance and void of all consequences.

arm

I would maintain the supremacy of indifference to belong to this island. Certain well-established points of view, such as Taormina, may command a conventional phrase of admiration; certain conveniently situated spots in the neighborhood of Palermo may be regarded with indulgence as objects for a picnic. But for any quietseeking and silent enjoyment of the beautiful, solitary spaces of purple mountain, flowery plain, and blue-green sea, we must look to visitors from the North, whose passage is as that of the swallows.

NEW SERIES.-VOL. LII., No. 6.

No

doubt the want of cultivation of what we call "the education of the eye" is partly chargeable with this. It has often been remarked how little appreciation of any beauty but the obvious in Nature classic writers show. With what horror they regard her in her stern, impressive moods; how only from the utilitarian point of view does she seem seriously to engage their attention. The mind of the Sicilian proprietor has probably the same standard by which to gauge the flower-decked fields and groves of golden oranges; but the ordinary, unendowed inhabitant does not enjoy even this practical pleasure in a land which gives him nothing, and from which he cannot take away even a memory to warm and brighten the gray monotony of city ways.

A charming lady, of high degree, dwelling within a mile of the lovely bay of Mondello-to whom I remarked what a delight it must be to her to wander often through the embowering woods, down to the basin of the white-fringed sea, guarded by its bluffs of rock, and to sit there upon the yellow sand, hunting for the pink and purple shells, wherewith the shore is thickly strewn stared at me and replied, "Ah! yes, I remember; six years ago we had a picnic there, by moonlight, one night. I

have not been there since."

And thus it is that we, from whose eyes the cataracts of obtusity have been removed thanks first to the great landscape-painters, secondly to the modern writers whose teaching has made us observe more and more the infinite variety in this dear world of ours-look with a pitying wonder upon those who are blind from their birth to the beauty that surrounds them. Yet these people, with all their ignorance, their superstitions, their indefensible ways, in many respects are interesting as children are, before the hand (or it may be the ferule) of the schoolmaster has laid upon them the weight of knowledge-interesting, by reason of their absolute freshness

interesting because while with them we seem to be living in another century, away from the stereotyped lines of modern thought, in ethics, in literature, or in art. -Nineteenth Century.