But it will be long ere these superstitions are eradicated. The magic of
south Italy deserves to be well studied, for the country is a cauldron
of demonology wherein Oriental beliefs--imported direct from Egypt, the
classic home of witchcraft--commingled with those of the West. A
foreigner is at an unfortunate disadvantage; if he asks questions, he
will only get answers dictated by suspicion or a deliberate desire to
mislead--prudent answers; whoso accepts these explanations in good
faith, might produce a wondrous contribution to ethnology.

Wise women and wizards abound, but they are not to be compared with that
_santa_ near Naples whom I used to visit in the nineties, and who was so
successful in the magics that the Bishop of Pozzuoli, among hundreds of
other clients, was wont to drive up to her door once a week for a
consultation. These mostly occupy themselves with the manufacture of
charms for gaining lucky lottery numbers, and for deluding fond women
who wish to change their lovers.

The lore of herbs is not much studied. For bruises, a slice of the
Opuntia is applied, or the cooling parietaria (known as "pareta" or
"paretene"); the camomile and other common remedies are in vogue; the
virtues of the male fern, the rue, sabina and (home-made) ergot of rye
are well known but not employed to the extent they are in Russia, where
a large progeny is a disaster. There is a certain respect for the
legitimate unborn, and even in cases of illegitimacy some neighbouring
foundling hospital, the house of the Madonna, is much more convenient.

It is a true monk's expedient; it avoids the risk of criminal
prosecution; the only difference being that the Mother of God, and not
the natural mother of the infant, becomes responsible for its prompt and