PALERMO. 
19 
environs, but I saw no magnificent statuary ; and was at 
length obliged to come to the conclusion that great allowance 
must be made for the florid imagination of gentlemen who 
write guide-books. Often have I walked for miles through 
the dusty streets of an Italian city, baking myself into an 
Egyptian mummy under a burning sun, to see some exquisite 
gem of art, and when I reached the place found a stick or a 
stone, or an old daub of a painting, that I am free to confess 
I would never have recognized as the work of a master-hand 
had I not been told so. The statuary in the churches of 
Palermo is generally exceedingly bad; the paintings are of 
very little merit, most of them being disgusting illustrations 
of scenes that never existed in the Scriptures or any where 
else, badly drawn, badly painted, and in the worst possible 
taste. In one of the churches I was introduced with great 
solemnity to a picture of the Madonna, which was carefully 
covered to preserve it from the vulgar gaze. I paid two 
carlini for the privilege of seeing it. Judge of my astonish¬ 
ment when the grave old sexton drew back the curtain and 
revealed to my wondering eyes the dingy features of an old 
black woman, with a silver crown on her forehead, that 
made her skin look a good deal like darkness visible. The 
pupils of her eyes were gilt with gold, and her eyebrows were 
radiant with precious stones. Her dress was of tawdry lace, 
glowing with little patchwork of silver paper ; and altogether 
she was the most extraordinary object I ever saw ; yet the 
old sexton bowed to her reverentially and said she was a 
great work of art. 
