but the house! Well, parts of it are not unlike the old Roman work which exists here. It was amusing to hear the inevitable guide, who probably had little idea of Virgil and his work, say, "Ecco, Casa di Virgilio, Signor." Some of our passengers left by the overland express, which carries the mails, including the Sultan of Johore, one of our feudatory princes, a fine specimen of a Malay, with marked resemblance to a Maori, but a little lighter in complexion. I believe the best authorities regard the Maori race as Malay in origin. Quite an accomplished linguist; he told me that the great impediment to the progress of his people was their indolence. Anxious to improve the production of sago, he had imported machinery, and experts to teach the use of it, but with little result. Like all Orientals, he was fond of travelling. As he stepped out of the Britannia, in an English tourist's suit, I caught sight under his waistcoat, of a broad waist-band of gold net-work, studded with jewels, and, at the end of the crook of his walking-stick, a ruby nearly as large as a nut. He is well known in London, and is, I believe, a persona grata with the Prince of Wales.
Then we went southward to Malta, with a glimpse on the way of Etna, snow tipped, lifting its head above wreaths of cloud; and at Malta found ourselves again in the track of St. Paul. There we had a long day full of interest. As you approach it, making for the harbour of Valetta, Malta looks like a mass of rock, shaped somewhat like a man's hand, slightly arched, with three inlets, flanked by rocky cliffs, like the spaces between the fingers. "One of the great paws of the British Lion," said a passenger to me, as we steamed slowly beneath the grand fortifications of Valetta. We landed and, by advice, secured a guide,
