ts to you with a
perfect frankness and unconsciousness of any need of reserve. In both
rich and poor, too, there is the same social taste and refinement. The
coarse dress of the peasant girl is worn with as native a dignity as the
robe of a queen. An unconscious elegance breathes through the very
disguises of the Carnival, grotesque as many of them are. The young
fellow who has wreathed himself with flowers and vine-leaves shows a
knowledge of colour and effect which an artist might envy him. But there
is not one among the roughest of the peasants or of the townsfolk who
has not that indescribable thing we call manner, or who would betray our
insular awkwardness when we speak to a lord. And, besides this social
equality, there is a family equality too. In England old people enjoy
fun, but it is held to be indecorous in them to afford amusement to
others. A Palmerston may be a jester at eighty, but the jest must never
go beyond words. But in an Italian Carnival the old claim just as much a
part in the fun as the young. Grandfathers and grandmothers think it the
most natural thing in the world to turn out in odd costumes to give a
good laugh to the grandchildren. Papa pops on the most comical mask he
can find, and walks down the street arm-in-arm with his boy. In no
country perhaps is the filial regard stronger than in Italy; nowhere do
mothers claim authority so long over their sons. But this seems to be
compatible with a domestic liberty and ease which would be impossible in
the graver nations of the North. If once we laughed at our mother's
absurdities a mother's influence would be gone. But an Italian will
laugh and go on reverencing and obeying in a way we should never dream
of. Altogether, it is wonderful how many sides of social life and
national character find their illustration in a country carnival.

SKETCHES IN SUNSHINE.

III.

TWO PIRATE TOWNS OF THE RIVIERA.

The view of Monaco, as one looks down on it from the mountain road which
leads to Turbia, is unquestionably the most picturesque among all the
views of the Riviera. The whole coast-line lies before us for a last
look as far as the hills above San Remo, headland after headland running
out into blue water, white little towns nestling in the depth of sunny
bays or clinging to the brown hill-side, villas peeping white from the
dark olive masses, sails gleaming white against the purple sea. The
brilliancy of light, the purity and intensity o