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are of great extent, and branch out into unnumbered streets and labyrinths. The tombs appear to be tenantless; even the dead of Syracuse are gone. It is wonderful, considering the strong belief of great treasures being deposited in the catacombs, that no one has yet undertaken to examine them thoroughly. Without much labour, the apertures in the roof, by which the light and air were formerly admitted, might be opened, and the passages seem to be all sufficiently clear.

Although the person who acts as Cicerone in Syracuse wears an order of knighthood, he was very thankful for a recompence of three dollars. Is it possible that rank or nobility can be respectable in this form? In Catania, the master of the inn requested me to give him something in charity for a nobleman, who was chiefly dependent on his family, and a stipend of about sixpence a day from the Bishop.

MALTA.

The entrance to the harbour of Valetta is truly grand. On each side, and in front, the fortifications rise in stupendous masses, with a watch-tower perched here and there in the corners. The buildings and domes above them have also a very noble appearance. Not a particle of smoke sullies the atmosphere; and every edifice looks as if it were only just finished. The internal appearance of the city corresponds to the magnificence of its exterior. The landing place is an extensive crescent; from which a gentle ascent, partly excavated in the rock, leads towards a gate. The one side of this way is occupied with the stalls of dealers in fish, fruits, and other necessaries. Immediately in front of the drawbridge is a handsome fountain, ornamented with a bronze statue of Neptune; and, on entering the gateway, the stairs, which conduct to the upper part of the town, immediately commence, making the entrance, in some respects, more like the vestibule of a great mansion, than the portal of a city. Nothing can be more striking than the streets which are first ascended after passing this gateway. They are, in fact, so many vast staircases; and the buildings that rise prospectively in the ascent, are ornamented with cornices and projections, so

huge, that the architecture seems to have been designed to correspond in strength and durability with the fortifications.

The Maltese, in their figure, are rather sinewy than muscular. They are, uniformly, more slender made than the English, and have a certain columnar appearance in the body, which I have never observed in any other people. Their national features are rather regular than pleasant, and their complexion is much darker than that of the Sicilians. In their habits they are singularly frugal; a little garlic, or fruit, with a small piece of bread, is their common repast. Butcher-meat is a lux ury of which they seldom partake. language is a dialect of the Arabic; but many speak Italian, and French. In Valetta, the young men generally understand English, of which the sounds accord, in some degree, with those of their native language.

Their

The great amusement of the Maltese is the enjoyment of conversation, sitting in family parties, at their doors, after sunset.

The population of the Island, when the Knights arrived, was reckoned only at twelve thousand; when it fell into the hands of the French it exceeded a hundred thousand.

The aspect of the country of Malta is, perhaps, more wonderful to a stranger, particu lary to one who has come from a land of verdaut fields, groves, and hedge-rows, than the fortifications of Valetta, amazing as these are. The whole island appears to be subdivided, by walls, into innumerable little properties, of not more than an acre or two in extent. Nothing that approximates to the definition of a tree is to be descried within the whole range of view, from the highest watch-tower on the battlements of the city. The appearance of the landscape, so destitute of refreshing green, so intersected with stone walls, every where studded with churches crowned with domes, and with the flat-roofed and windowless cotcages of the peasants, is not to be previously conceived. Every inch of ground is tilled, and yet the produce has long been inadequate to the maintainance of the inhabitants.

The common mode of travelling in Malta, is in single-horse close carriages, which hold two persons. They are called calishes, and are

a very tolerable sort of vehicles. The driver never rides, but runs, all day, by the side of the horse or mule; and the fatigue which he || will sustain, even under the influence of the scirocco, is almost incredible. Nor is he extravagant in his charges; for a dollar, a calish may be hired all the afternoon and evening.

They have the most beautiful breed of asses in the world, and they keep them in a handsome sleeked condition.

Although the island is but one great rock, thinly covered with soil, the inhabitants are well supplied with water. A small stream, which rises in the interior, is brought to Valetta, by an aqueduct, and distributed by public fountains. Every house in the city, as well as in the country, has also a cistern, capable of containing a quantity of water sufficient to serve the family six months. These cisterns are filled by the rain from the roofs of the houses.

The cathedral of St. John is celebrated for the beauty of its pavement, which consists of the monuments of the Knights, executed in mosaic, each of which appears like one large plate of enamel painting Several of the altar-pieces are valuable; but the riches of this church were sadly reduced by the French. When Bonaparte came to inspect it, for the pious purpose of reforming the luxuries of its service, it was observed that he kept his hat

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on, to the great scandal of the priests. The portrait of the Grand Master, Pinto, in mosaic, is a great curiosity. It is not, at first sight, distinguishable from painting. The menial who attended me through the cathedral, pointed out on one of the altars, a picture of the Virgin, whom he immediately seemed to address with many interjections of devout admiration; but observing on her cheek the residue of the dinner of a sacrilegious fly, he suddenly expectorated in ber face, in order to rub it the more easily clean.

Some time before my arrival at Malta, in 1809, as an English soldier happened to be walking along the street, a pig, belonging to a Maltese butcher, ran against him. The lad, irritated by having his uniform soiled, gave the pig a kick. Almost instantly the owner mortally stabbed him with a knife, and fled to the cathedral. Owing to some diffidence in the Governor, out of respect to the popular prejudices, if such gentle terms can be applied to the transaction, the murderer was allowed to remain in the sanctuary; and the Bishop was only solicited to deliver him up to justice. This injudicious mildness was equivocally answered. The Governor grew more firm, and demanded the culprit. The clergy, perceived that the sanctuary might, in the end, be forced; and they facilitated the escape of the murderer.

LETTERS ON THE MANNERS, CUSTOMS, &c. OF DIFFERENT

COUNTRIES.

(Continued from Page 93.)

LETTER III.-HUNGARY.

treat, any sentimental trait should fall in my way (for it is to such that your lively ima.

I AM almost tempted to repent the promise I made to you of giving you a circum-gination and your feeling heart are most stantial account of my travels. Do 1 not, in my simple situation of one willing to satisfy your curiosity, constitute myself an observer, an historian, and a moralist? and yet you are not satisfied! I must also become a romance writer! This is too much, my good friend; have a little mercy, I beg of you. If, in the course of these subjects on which I mean to

open), I will relate it to you with the simpli city of an historian, without taking upon myself to embellish nature in the flowery garb of poetry; that will carry us up to Helicon, and we must not yet quit the shores of the Danube : this subject merits all your attention, and I demand of you to give to it the most serious and profound.

Of all the rivers in Europe, the Danube has || enough to encounter, and hardy enough to the most extensive course; it derives its source from the Alps of Switzerland, and enters the Black Sea; it runs for the space of five hundred leagues, through Suabia, Bavaria, and the country of Patsau, which are nurtured by its waters, before it enters Austria: there it seems to pride itself of the advantages it procures to the rich countries of the Austrain empire; it spreads itself, it precipitates its course, it disdains not to insinuate itself into the narrowest situation, in order to overcome the Warbel, which is a vortex which carries off a part of the waters in a subterraneous abyss, where they are lost, and the Stru dels, which are formed by a chain of rocks between wind and water, from the left hand shore. It lengthens itself even to the middle of the wide flood, before it comes to Vienna; it is then divided into three arms, which wind into the beautiful spring known by the name of Prater: but it collects together all its waters to enter Hungary; there, under Presbourg, it shews itself in all its glory. A young poet might here find a grand subject for his muse; he would only have to de fy the Danube, lend to it the sentiments of Homer's Gods, describe it, proud of its power, dividing, by a single effort, the Alps from the Krapaeks, for it is here the Krapacks begin. But I renounce all this stupendous painting; the engraver of historical pieces would hold them in contempt; perhaps he would not even deign to look at the present state of the Danube's navigation.

expose themselves to the inequality of the channel, and the impetuosity of the waves of the Danube; for the irregularity of the shore often obliges them to perform ouly half the journey which they may have undertaken.

I foresee that you will wish for a description> of the barks, and the manner in which they are constructed to stem the current; and as this description is requisite to prove how well I am informed in all I have told you, and in all I may yet have to say, I take upon myself to tell you voluntarily, and with a good grace, before you ask it.

The immense channel of this river is cover. ed with barks, in the season when it is navigable; millions of boatmen are employed in conducting them, and many thousands of horses can scarcely suffice to drag these loaded barks against the current, and which transport the produce of the Hungarian soil into provinces less abundant: but neither the boats, the boatmen, nor the horses, are taken from the full population, nor from the breed of horses in Hungary. The boatmen are Suabians, Bavarians, Saltzburgians, and Aus trians of Upper Austria. The horses, em. ployed at high tides, come from Stirce, which is the only province near the Danube where the horses are of proper height, and robust

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The vessels destined to be rowed on the Danube, are flat-bottomed barks, built of long planks of fir, joined by bows of beech and oak: formerly there were not much pains bestowed on their construction; and it is only since the year 1750 or 1760, that, ceasing to make use of pegs of wood, they began to join them together with a kind of double cramp-irons, which united the planks, and fixed them on their bows, which served as a carcass to the boat, the dimensions of which are various: while some are of two hundred tons, there are those which carry only fifty; all are, however, of a disproportionate length in appearance when in port; but when you consider that they row with safety across the flats, these vessels cannot take above three or four feet of water, at most, you will perceive that their extent of surface is the only means which affords them the capability of carrying the enormous loads they are destined to transport. They have no false keel nor helm; two very long oars or sweeps are fixed to the poop, but oftner young oak twigs bent, which serve to direct them across the sand-banks and shelves. Two large oars are also fixed at the posts which divide the two sides of the vessel, and serve to pass over the top, like a kind of scaffolding, and this forms the poop. The large oars are put in motion by the united efforts of several sailors, and incredibly accelerate the motion of the boat. A kind of hut, which covers two-thirds of the length, and all the breadth of the boat, is raised between the scaffolding, and is constituted to facilitate the play of the oars, sweeps, and prow of the bark; this space contains beside, a kitchen

and sailors' mag zine. This said hut, which has entirely the form of a cabin, holds all the merchandize, and is exclusively reserved for that use, in every small boat: in the larger ones it is divided in such a manner, that the smaller divisions may serve as lodgings to the

crew.

I am quite in a vein for writing; but that is no reason that my letter should be as long as a German drama. I must conclude, that the post may not go out without your hearing from me.-Let me soon have news of yourself, and believe me ever, &c. &c. (To be continued.)

MRS. GREEN'S NEW NOVEL-" GOOD MEN OF MODERN DATE."

PUBLISHED BY T. TEGG, CHEAPSIDE.

The note contained Mr. Hartley's best respects, was sorry that his absence from town had prevented his being among those who were allowed the honour and happiness of congratulating Miss Fitzwarren on her recovery, but that he rejoiced no less at it than the most sincere of her friends; that his sister and himself dined in her neighbourhood, and if Miss Fitzwarren would permit, and was not likely to be retired to rest, they would call in their way home, and pay their respects to her for a few minutes at about eleven.

THIS evening Mr. and Mrs. Jefferies pro- | answer. mised to attend their friends the following week to a masquerade. Mrs. Umfreville was also to be of the party, and Eliza, who had never witnessed this species of entertainment, which she had long desired to participate in, hoped to be recovered sufficiently to join the festive party; but having dined below the following Sunday, she caught a fresh cold, was remanded back to her own apartment, and strictly forbade mixing with the motley groupe on the day fixed, which was the Thursday after.

She amused her mind with contriving the dresses of Mrs. Jefferies and Mrs. Umfreville, and in the promised pleasure of hearing from them a faithful description of the divertisse ment of the evening. Mrs. Jefferies again appeared a beautiful Thalestris, though not so young as when she captivated her fickle lord, who in the youthful charms of Eliza Fitzwarren, found much more attraction than in the maturer beauties of his wife. Umfreville made a very beautiful Bacchante, crowned with grapes and ivy; and Mr. Jefferies very gallantly presented her with a pair of amethyst earrings, representing each a cluster of grapes; she waved the thyrsis gracefully in her hand, wished the admiring Eliza pleasant dreams, and the smiling girl saw them depart with all the longing wish natural to youth to accompany them.

Mrs.

The whole party set off at ten to proceed first to the house of a lady who received masks previous to their entering the Opera-bouse. A note was brought to Miss Fitzwarren by the servant, telling her the bearer waited for an

The note of Hartley was read with the most pleasurable emotion over and over again; she knew not before that he had a sister; how flattering to her was the wish of the brother to introduce her to that sister! She changed the elegant morning cap she had on for one more becoming, and fond expectation riding on the wings of hope, gave to her cheek the delicate tint of the palest rose of blushing hue.

When first she received the note from Hartley, she was deeply engaged in perusing a new and interesting publication. Now it had lost all its powers of beguiling the lonely hour, and all her efforts to fix her attention again on it were in vain, she scarce knew a single word she read. She sat leaning her head on her hand, while her eye sparkled at the reflection, how fortunate it was that she missed going to the Opera-house, when she heard a kind of contention on the stairs, between Sir Theodosius Stanmore and the waiting-maid of Mrs. Jefferies; he rushed past her and was instantly at the feet of Eliza.

The first words which he addressed to her were:"O save me, save me, most adored of

women! It is in your power to render a distracted being, from a most miserable wretch, the happiest of mankind. Oh, my beloved Miss Fitzwarren! the only woman who could ever gain a decided conquest over my heart, angelic Eliza, listen to me!"

"Sir Theodosius," said she rising, while he endeavoured to detain her by the gown, "I entreat, I supplicate, that you will leave me, or explain the reason of this your frantic and unwarrantable behaviour."-" I will die," replied he, a thousand deaths, my dear Miss Fitzwarren, sooner than offend you; but here will I kneel until you promise to grant me a few minutes attentive hearing, then you will judge what a wretched being I am likely to become if you will not nobly consent to save me. → hear me, for time presses; by consenting to become my wife, you will save me from a detestable and ill assorted union; wedded already I cannot marry another, and my uncle will be brought to relent; O Miss Fitzwarren suffer me. Ah! what is that? my uncle's footstep!"" Impossible," replied Eliza, "he is at the masquerade ;”—though her cheek became palid and her frame tremb ling from her being well assured that it was Mr. Jefferies, whose foot they heard on the

stairs.

"If my uncle sees me here," said Sir Theodosius, "I am undone: where, oh! where can I retreat? I must," added he, taking hold of the handle of Eliza's bed room door, "I must conceal myself in this chamber."

Mr. Jefferies knocked at the door as Eliza was saying, in a low voice to Theodosius:"Sir I cannot, must not permit it." But Theodosius had glided into the chamber as his uncle repeated a knock on the outside door-With a faultering voice she said, "Come in." Mr. Jefferies presented himself; he beheld her evident perturbation, kindly and tenderly inquired if she did not yet find her spirits free from agitation, and in the softest manner imaginable expressed the kindest wishes towards her. "This state of life is not suited for you, charming Miss Fitzwarren," said he; "you must allow me to be the happy arbiter of your destiny; and be assured, loveliest of women, I will settle the half of my ample fortune on you, if you will only in

return afford me but a tenth part of that ardent love I feel for you.”

"Did you, Sir," said Eliza, with much dis pleasure, "visit me this evening, in the ab. sence of your lady, with a purposed determination of insulting me?"-"What insult, adorable creature," said Mr. Jefferies, "can, there be in telling you I love you better than life itself?"-" Much, Sir," said Eliza, “when you consider your situation and mine-however, we will now, if you please, Sir, wave all argument; I request your absence,-I expect a lady here in a few minutes, and I desire I may be left alone."

"Dearest Eliz," said Mr. Jefferies, " I wish you well; do not then be so much your own enemy as to slight offers, which, be assured, are not to be met with every day: I will make you happy, independent, and you may set the world at defiance."

He then endeavoured to press the hand of Eliza to his lips, when she burst into tears, and again insisted on his leaving the room; his infamous proposals she found so cruel an insult, that deprest with bodily weakness and mental agony, her tottering frame would scarce suffer her to reach the cordon of the bell, as she said to Mr. Jefferies, "Leave me, Sir, and to-morrow I will for ever quit your house, much as I esteem and respect your injured lady. I should be loath, for her sake, to expose you to your servants, but be assured I will instantly ring for them to turn you out, if you do not immediately quit my apartment."

"I do not fear your quitting my house, while my nephew is in it," said Mr. Jefferies, very spitefully, nor am I to be told that he visited you alone this evening-that you deemed no transgression."

"Neither do I deny, Sir," replied she, "that Sir Theodosius has been here this evening; he visits me almost every day."—" Aye, aye, take care of him," said Mr. Jefferies; when a well known voice was heard on the stairs"Oh! do light me up stairs to Miss Fitzwarren's dressing room. I never was in such a crowded atmosphere before, as that abomi. nable Opera-house."

"Oh! shield me Miss Fitzwarren," cried Mr. Jefferies," from that infernal Proserpine! I am a ruined man, by Heaven, if she finds me

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