top with vines and olive trees; the path runs a little way along at their feet, and then begins to ascend in steep ramps. Otten, returning from this walk, we reached the old bridge just as night was closing in, sat down on a little bank near at hand, and watched the peasants returning into town from their labours, or a travel ler or two from Massa, or some other part of the peninsula, riding over the bridge on a slow and sober ass, and disappearing under the arch-way. Sometimes at this hour a few ragged boys lingered here to play, and gathering weeds and flowers from the brink of the fosse, wove themselves little garlands, with which they crown ed one another; and then, as the night advanced dropped off reluctantly to return home. This was one of our favourite scenes. The darkening mountain, the deep obscure ravine, in part of which the evening breeze was busy with groves of orange trees; the rude decayed bridge; the dilapidated wall of the town, over which rose two or three antique houses; the low arched gate, with a dim lamp burning before the Madonna under it, and armorial bearings rudely carved in stone above, and the glancing sea, seen far below through the glen-objects which will always be picturesque, were here arranged with a felicity of combination which we shall long remember. The stillness of the evening was only broken by the shrill croak of the cicala, or a low murmur which the breeze brought from the town, or the last tolling of a distant bell which had rung the hour of ave-maria. We generally got back to the Monastery a few minutes before supper was served: this was for the monks a very humble meal; a little tripe, or two or three fried eggs, a few leaves of salad, some bread, and the same quantity of wine as at dinner, composed the repast. The devotional exercises were much the same; and after supper our conversations were renewed in the same alcove to which we retired after dinner: they were generally better attended than in the middle of the day, for the novices and the lay-brothers were sometimes admitted to the honour of taking a part; as, however, our subjects of conversation were not very abundant, we frequently had the satisfaction of

In

hearing the same things over again, particularly the Superior's long endless history of Enrico Ottavo. about an hour our visitors began to drop off, one by one, with a "Santa notte, Don Guglielmo, Don Carlo, santa notte," and we were soon left a lone; when, occasionally before going to our cells, we walked awhile a round the corridor, enjoying the silence and tranquillity of the hour and the scene. A soft light streamed along the passages from a lamp which was placed under a large crucifix, and from another which burned be fore an altar; in one angle of the dormitory there were two staircases leading into the church, and another leading to the belfry: in this part of the passage stood an old sofa, which had once been covered with silk, and had been the most splendid piece of furniture in the cell appropriated to the use of the Provinciale, (Provincial Superior of the order) when he visited them; but which, having some what declined into the vale of years, and being dirty and decayed, had been displaced and thrown here in neglect, as the finances of the Monastery were not not now in a suf ficiently flourishing condition to meet the expenses of having it repaired. On the opposite side of the passage stood five or six wine jars, in form and material resembling the ancient amphoræ found at Herculaneum and Pompeii. The silence was so perfect, that the ticking of an old clock near the altar might be heard in every part of the dormitory. Every object was well adapted to assist and associate with those feelings which night inspires-there was a certain something of romance and of sadness which sunk on the heart.-The old couch reminded us at once of the former prosperity of the Monastery, and told us that the monks have now "fallen upon evil days." We saw at the end of the passage a figure of Christ, which seemed starting from the cross, displayed in a strange and almost terrific light and shade by the flame of the lamp below the feet of the image,-the low doors of the crowded cells, the dark staircases, and sometimes a solitary mouk gliding silently along the passage, and lighting his careful steps with the fragment of a taper :-and here, frequently forgetting the faults of mo

nastic institutions, we felt that they abound in circumstances calculated to allure and captivate the imagination.

One night, after having mused in this place rather later than usual, we had retired to our cells, and were preparing to go to bed, when we were surprised by a very unusual bustle, the cause of which we did not understand: we thought, perhaps, the monks were going into the church to perform some nocturnal service, and as we did not wish to be considered prying, we remained where we were; but hearing the bustle increase, and hasty footsteps going backwards and forwards, and loud voices in the corridor, we at last issued from our cells. We saw all the monks running about in the utmost confusion; and presently the Guardiano, accompanied by two of the brothers, came up to us in haste and tribulation, and asked if we had got pistols, and if they were loaded with ball; and on our replying we had, he begged us to take them and come with him, but was in too great confusion to explain why. We, however, complied with his request, and followed him through the dormitory into the kitchen, and there we found the cause of this midnight alarm was that the great kitchen chimney had caught fire, and threatened the safety of the Monastery. The monks, novices, and lay-brothers, were all assembled here, and seemed overcome by fear; and indeed, there was apparently some cause of alarm, for the chimney, which opened upon a wooden roof, was all in flames: the motive for calling us "up in arms," was that we might discharge the pistol up the chimney in order to bring down the soot, which either from negligence or false economy had been suffered to collect for many months. We were advancing towards the great fire-place for that purpose, when a monk came and snatched the pistols from our hands, willing probably to show that he was not afraid of fire arms: the pistols had bolt locks with secret triggers, and as he in his hurry had neglected to ask how to cock them, when he got to the fire-place he found he could not accomplish his purpose, and he returned to us in great dudgeon, saying the pistols were good for nothing, for they would not go off. His

ignorance was a piece of very good fortune, for had he fired, he would probably have wounded a lay-brother, who had in the meantime ascended on the outside, and having got on the top of the chimney, was trying to extinguish the flames by covering the mouth with wet straw. The poor fellow indeed ran a double risk, for we had advanced with the pistols cocked close under the chimney, and were on the point of firing before we learned that any body was above. The means used to extinguish the fire proved successful, the soot soon burned itself out without doing any damage, the confusion gradually subsided, and the monks once more retired to their cells.

Another nocturnal disturbance took place on a very different occasion, and occurred some hours after we had retired to rest: we were awakened by a sudden rocking of the bed and room, and while we were musing on this odd circumstance, we heard a monk passing along the dormitory, and crying out in a loud and doleful voice terramoto! terramolo! (earthquake). We jumped up and opened the door; the monks were hurrying along, each with a taper in his hand, to the church; fear, and that stupor natural to persons waked suddenly out of their sleep, were marked on their countenances: we were standing at the door of our cell, when two or three of those who were behind passed by; they did not speak, and in a few moments we heard the whole of them lifting up their voices in the church. The trembling had ceased almost instantaneously; we had felt this sort of thing two or three times before in the kingdom; they had always been slight, and we had never experienced any harm from them, we therefore sagely concluded no harm would happen to us this time, went quietly to bed again, and fell asleep before the monks' cantata was ended. The next day, the earthquake of course was the sole subject of conversation; the monks spoke of it with superstitious awe, hinting pretty strongly that the mercy of Heaven had been exerted to save the Monastery and the city of Sorrento in consequence of the fervency of their prayers. This earthquake was felt in Naples and in the country round to a considerable distance; and, like

the others we have known, it took place during the suppression of the activity of Vesuvius.

There are few objects in nature which are to us more attractive than thebeachy margent of the sea," and as our Monastery stood so near the shore, and as it was besides the season of bathing, we seldom let a day pass without spending half an hour on the sands: indeed, if we had neither loved the sea, nor the scenery of the shore, we should still have found something to amuse us, for the gentry of Sorrento generally repaired hither every day, either to bathe, or to dive for frutta di mare, or to gossip away their lazy hours, while the sea breeze tempered the heat of the season. They were nearly all expert but timid swimmers, and seldom ventured above a few yards out of their depth, under pretence of there being at times pesci cani (sharks) in the bay. These people were called gentry, because they did no work, wore coats, and had perhaps from three to five hundred ducats a year; but they were not gentry for any better reason, for they were ignorant, vulgar, and frequently unprincipled. After we had bathed, and perhaps conversed a little, we generally walked along the sands, listening to the waves that rolled gently at our feet, or examining the picturesque masses of lava, which, falling from the cliffs above, had heaped the shore with ruins; some of them retained their native rudeness, while others, washed into comparative smoothness, were covered with incrustations of salt, or thick coats of green or reddish marine moss. The sands on the shore are black and sparkling, and seem merely lava ground into dust; the pebbles appear to be of the same origin, and their speckled appearance is very curious; molten stone, and pumice, and dust, are mixed up in them in motley confusion; some are black or brown, some bluish, some reddish, but all seem to retain the swarthy traces of the element that expelled them from the bowels of the earth. They have probably been rocked for ages in the cradle of the sea, soaked by the wave and

scorched by the sun in countless alternations, and the cohesion of their parts is so much weakened, that a slight blow crushes them into dirt. In many of the cliffs there are considerable grottos, with long narrow passages, some leading to and some from them, and others whose use and direction are not at all apparent: they are now all half filled with water.* According to traditions current here, these grottos were formerly connected by passages which led up to Monasteries or palazzi, on the cliffs above; but we could never find any such passages, and never could form any probable conjecture, as to what the grottos were originally intended for. Some of them, no doubt, were excavations made merely to get materials for building, and these are left in a very rough condition: but considerable labour has been bestowed upon others. One is carefully wrought into the form of a rotunda with a dome; another is a large arched vault, evidently chiselled with some attention to elegance; and in several of the narrow passages, we found many remains of tonica (ancient plaster) and traces of ornamental painting, mouldings, and other embellishments. But we are afraid we shall tire you with too many descriptions, therefore let us return to the Monastery.

The

During our residence here, the order was enriched by two members; we saw the ceremonies of their taking the vows, which, as they amused us, may perhaps amuse you. first of these was a lay-brother who had served a twelvemonth's apprenticeship in the convent, performing all menial offices, such as serving the monks at meal and at mass, lighting the candles, sweeping out the church, mending old cowls, &c. The preliminary to those ceremonies was an unusual preparation for eating and drinking: this important part of the business was committed to Frà Gabriele, whose skill in such affairs was universally acknowledged, and who had the management of every little donation that was made to the fraternity for festival purposes: to him the monk gave what might be

its rises and falls ascertained.

considered as his footing; and, considering the smallness of the sum, honest Gabriele did a great deal. As soon as the ceremonies began in the church, we repaired to the choir, whence we observed all that passed. The church was crowded with people who came to see the funzione, which began with a messa cantata, wherein our worthy Superior exhibited his musical talents to great advantage, singing all the solos himself, and being always heard the loudest in the chorus: indeed, he might have said with Bottom, "I will aggravate my voice so, that I will roar you as gently as any sucking dove." The singing in the choir was equalled by the unusual pomp below. After the grand mass, one of the novices preached a short sermon, or rather a eulogy in praise of those who made themselves monks; this the lay-brother seemed to listen to with humble devotion, and when it was finished he retired into the sacristy: immediately a bell by the side of the church door was rung, and a long range of spari (little mortars about five inches long) began to be fired off, and under the cover of this amusing battery, the Superior retreated to arrange his dress. When the firing was over, he made his appearance in the church through a side door; he was loaded with all the finery of the Monastery, and fine indeed he was: his robes were gaudy and heavy ;-silk, and gold, and embroidery, rose on a ground which had once been white; and these, oppressive enough in themselves, were thrown over his ordinary monk's dress, which Heaven knows is none of the coolest. The weather was very warm, and, as he had been exerting himself pretty violently in singing, and bustling about to give due éclat to the festival, his face, when he peeped through the little door, was something like a London sun in a foggy day. He plunged into the church, vibrating from side to side, rolling his great head, (a particular practice he had) and evidently breathing hard from fatigue: his right hand held a pastoral crook, and his left was gracefully applied to his belly; he was followed by four monks, also covered with white robes, in the middle of whom walked the professing laybrother; they advanced to the altar

and fell upon their knees; after a short prayer, they all arose except the lay-brother, upon whose head the Superior laid his hands, and began to repeat the vow in Latin, in which, although it was not very long, and he had been studying for a day or two, he was so imperfect, as to be frequently obliged to consult a book which one of the monks held open before him. The lay-brother repeated the vow, sentence by sentence, after the Superior, not comprehending much of what he repeated, but taking all on trust to be what had been explained to him beforehand. When the profession was finished, the strangest part of the exhibition began: the new made monk arose, and was conducted by the Superior, followed by the monks, who did not choose this time to be very close in their attendance for reasons about to be disclosed: they had hardly turned their backs to the altar when we observed a sudden movement in the congregation; there was a great rising from seats, rummaging in pockets, and standing on tip-toe, and presently there proceeded from every part of the church a discharge of rough comfits which were directed generally pretty successfully at the Superior and the new-made monk. This discharge was accompanied by the simultaneous movement of a number of ragged children who precipitated themselves on the floor to pick up the sweetmeats: by their number, and their struggling with one another, the progress of the procession was impeded, and the monks exposed to the fire, which was kept up very briskly. The Superior bore all this with admirable patience for awhile, and only sought to defend himself a little by holding up part of his finery; anon, however, a whole handful "hit him too hard," and then dropping his guard he began clearing away the hindrances, (i. e. the children) with his feet: just then some confetti, maliciously directed, took him clean about the face and eyes-he lost all his patience, and almost ran to the door of the sacristy. The procession remained a few seconds in the sacristy, and then returned in the same order in which it had gone out, to the altar. Though the ammunition, with which the spectators had supplied themselves, was now consider

ably diminished, still enough remained to keep up a running fire; and as the children followed the comfits whereever they fell, even the steps of the altar were besieged by them, and they were heard squalling and seen sprawling on the ground, and struggling with one another in every part of the church, notwithstanding the admonishing voice of the Superior, and sundry manual arguments of the laybrothers. After a short prayer at the altar, the monks retired again to the sacristy, and the ceremony ended. The pelting very much surprised us, as we thought it so entirely at variance with the character of seriousness and decorum which would have been proper to the scene: however, nearly all the people present joined in it very merrily; they laughed, talked aloud, pushed one another, and seemed to have the same sort of relish for the function, as for a carnival procession.

When the church was cleared, we went into the cloisters, and loitered about until dinner time, which followed very closely on the morning fatigues. On entering the refectory, we found every face lighted up with smiles brighter than usual; a remis sion of the observance of silence had been granted, and they were all chattering about the funzione, applauding the various parts of it, and anticipating the luxuries of which they were about to partake. The dishes were served round, and the good humour increased. We took our seats by the Superior, who asked us with proud satisfaction how we had liked the ceremonies, and especially the singing; and anon he began to open the fountains of his wit, and repeated again and again every pleasantry with which his memory was stored. The dinner was really quelche cosa di bello; there was the usual soup and boulli; they were followed by a ragout of bullock's tongue, (esteemed a great delicacy by the monks) and then came an arrosto di vaccina (roast beef), and the rear of the repast was brought up by a pizra, a Neapolitan dish, composed of paste, covered with a composition of eggs and cheese,

sprinkled over with a little sugar: at the same time that the pizra was introduced, a lay-brother went round with a large bottle, from which he filled every one's glass with some pretty good wine. The wine as well as the pizra was a complimento* paid by the new-made monk to his bro thers; a little dessert was served round, and that concluded the dinner. As the repast had continued longer, and as the monks had undergone extraordinary fatigues, and had drunk a glass or two of wine more than usual, on retiring from the refectory they all went to bed to recruit their forces for the remainder of the day's work.

The other occasion of this sort, was the profession of a young man who had passed his noviciate in the monastery, and who now took the vows which raised him to the more dignified and comfortable rank of father: the ceremonies were much the same, but there was a greater profusion of comfits employed in pelting in the church, and some additional means furnished for the enjoy ment in the refectory, as some sweetmeats, some rosolio, and some sorbetti. The young monk afterwards entertained himself in his cell with some relations and friends, who had come to assist at the ceremonies, and to rejoice with him on the happy change of his condition. They were very loud in their gaiety; one of them played a clarionet, and the others laughed, talked, and sang some Neapolitan burlesque songs, which were rather broad, and very curious to be heard in a monk's cell. This merriment was kept up for a long time: it ceased, however, at length, and they all took their after dinner's nap. The new-made monk did not appear in the refectory in the evening, but after supper, while we were sitting in the alcove, we heard the noise of plates and glasses in his cell, and somewhat later, the same rejoicing as in the afternoon; the gentlemen, however, were rather more noisy, and uttered a good deal of the slang of Naples, and acted a variety of imitations of the popular Pulcinella. The next morning the young man left the con