LIFE OF THE AUTHOR. 89 



that either the poets had availed themselves of the licence which has 

 always been accorded to those who drink the waters of Helicon, or 

 that these two ferocious whirlpool genii had left their favourite resi- 

 dence and gone elsewhere. Indeed, I soon found to my cost that 

 they had settled in the passport offices of Sicily, for I was all but 

 worried alive there. The hungry inmates had found a flaw in my 

 Neapolitan passport. It consisted merely of the omission of the 

 word ' return.' This was a windfall for their insatiate cravings ; and 

 I had either to administer to their appetites, or to give up all 

 thoughts of leaving the island, as the negligence of the authorities in 

 Naples had subjected me to take out a new passport in Sicily. 

 Thus I had first to pay at one office and then at another ; to wait 

 here, and to expostulute there ; so that, what with the heat of the sun, 

 and the roughness of the pavement, and the payment of fees, I could 

 not have been much worse off had I been sucked into the vortex of 

 the old straits themselves. In a word, there was no helping myself, 

 and no mercy shown, although I cried out most feelingly 



' Solvere quassatae parcite membra ratis.' 



The vexations at the passport offices deduct considerably from the 

 pleasure of a tour through the insular dominions of his Neapolitan 

 majesty. 



" I can fancy that Sicily must afford a magnificent treat to the 

 votaries of ornithology both early in April and at the close of Sep- 

 tember, as the European birds of passage, in coming to the north, 

 and in retiring from it, are known to pass in great quantities through 

 this island. A person with a good telescope, and in a favourable 

 situation, would have it in his power to mark down the many 

 different species of birds which wing their way to this quarter ; and 

 I can conceive that the family of hawks, especially the Windhover, 

 would be very numerous. 



" In Sicily we saw an exhibition, the recollection of which haunted 

 me like a spectre for many a week afterwards. It might be termed 

 a melancholy parade of death decked out in a profusion of gay 

 and splendid colours. I could not comprehend by what species of 

 philosophy these islanders had brought themselves to the contem- 

 plation of objects once so dear to them, but now shrunk into hideous 



