TO M 127 



tone of religion at Naples. It is a pity that it has not some influence 

 also upon its morality. The Neapolitans believe the crater to be an 

 outlet or communication with the place of torment ; the priests en- 

 courage this idea, and make an unsparing use of their doctrine of 

 purgatory. If a corner is to be prevented from being defiled, if ex- 

 traordinary reverence is to be paid to any particular crucifix or picture 

 of the Madona, if any chapel or privileged altar requires that the num- 

 ber of its devotees should be increased, in all cases the same remedy 

 is resorted to by exposing paintings of naked men and women up to 

 the waist in fire. Outside one of the churches between Naples and 

 Vesuvius are a number of flesh-coloured dolls, huddled into a group, 

 and half immersed in a red lake, supposed to represent lava or liquid 

 fire. To increase the sale of those little amulets, which the Neapo- 

 litans wear round their necks, the priests exhibit pictures of the Vir- 

 in reaching one of them to a soul in torment, as an alleviation of 

 is sufferings. At Naples, " II Re di Vesuvio the king of Vesuvius," 

 means to say " the devil." Having heard that there were symptoms 

 of an approaching erruption, I asked a fellow in the neighbourhood 

 when he thought it would happen. The answer was, " When the 

 devil gives a ball." Another man to whom I put the same question 

 replied in a much better style, " Iddio e padrone it is in the hands of 

 God." A man cursing a person who was displeasing to him said > 

 " May she go al diavolo, alfuoco, al Vesuvio to the devil, to the fire, 

 to Vesuvius." D. 



TO M 



ON GIVING HER THE AIR CALLED " O TRANQUILLO SOGGIORNO." 



IF thou, in future years, may'st chance to play 



That plaintive air " Tranquillo Soggiorno," 



Cast one short momentary thought away 



When I am numbered with the dead, adorn, oh ! 



Adorn my cold sepulchre with a tear 



A tear of friendship on thy lover's bier ! 



What pleasure rests upon the thought ! Farewell, 



Ye visions of the world's enchanted ore, 



Which flit around us, imperceptible, 



Chaining the soul. I'll own your sway no more ! 



Oh, in this hope I would resign my breath, 



To dwell one moment in thy memory ; 



That would disarm of all its terrors death, 



And render it a happiness to die ! 



ZAGARO VOUNI. 



