in all parts of Italy, much of their former life and splendor. But this seems to me rather a good than a bad sign, because what indeed are their festivals other than noise—explosions of light and ashes! Nevertheless, they are expensive, and what do they leave behind them? Vacuity! The people begin, perhaps, to feel that they neither can nor ought to be satisfied with fireworks alone. How unlike these are to the Swiss national festivals! The people themselves take part in them, both soul and body. Strength, health, industry, art, understanding, and brotherhood, alike require it. There is no other species of festival which will operate to the national advantage. Poor Italy! How unprofitable, in result, on the contrary, are thy festivals!
The people here appear to me to be industrious, but, in general, to be poor. The women spin on their distaffs, before their houses, whilst the men, with bowed necks and backs, carry heavy burdens of food and other things from the shore up to the town—Sorrento lying high. They very seldom eat flesh-meat, “not once a month,” as I have been assured by them. Their principal food consists of a species of beans, together with bread and fruit. Of this last, there is now great abundance here, and people can get melons, figs, oranges, &c., at a very small cost. Later in the year, come also grapes, and fici d'India,—the fruit of the cactus-plant. Even macaroni is here an article of luxury to the people, as is also wine; and yet this is a vine-growing country, and whilst the people are subjected to deprivation as regards the means of life, hundreds of scudi are expended in smoke for their pleasure.
