beautiful girl, later became Grand Duchess of Tuscany in her turn.
Nothing indeed could have been more charming than the Naples of those
days. I do not speak of that wondrous setting which will last to all
eternity, but of the Naples of the Neapolitans, gay, noisy, and teeming
with wit, as it was before the plague of politics fell on it, bringing
divisions and gloom, and despoiling it of all its charm of originality;
Naples, with its lazzaroni and its macaroni, and its "corricoli" tearing
along with tinkling bells, crammed with monks and women in their
costumes--the Naples, in fine, of Pulcinella and of Leopold Robert.

After Naples came Palermo, and then Malta, where we found the
magnificent British squadron, and received the most hospitable of
welcomes from General and Lady Emily Ponsonby, the governor and his
charming wife.

Our stay at Malta ended with a disagreeable incident, hardly conceivable
in these days, when naval discipline may be held up as a model to every
one. On the evening of the day before that on which we were to weigh
anchor, our whole crew deserted in a body. In spite of the efforts of
the officer of the watch, and some others of inferior rank, who were
present, over 300 men seized the boats and dories that lay alongside of
us, and took "French leave" on shore. The next day we could not start,
for we had no crew. We had to apply to the police and the English
garrison, who sent out pickets, collected our rovers, and brought almost
all of them back in the course of the evening, and we started somewhat
humiliated at having given the English such a sad specimen of the
insubordination which always follows on revolutions. The English have
had their revolution too, but they have taken good care to have no more
than the one, and above all not to make laws which render a periodical
recurrence of revolution inevitable. As we had over 300 delinquents, it