mason's "hopes" that we "might _find all square at home_." At
home! Oh, that we had a home!!--an unassuming wife--placens et tacens
uxor; an unpretending house, with a comfortable guest-chamber; and no
noiseless nursery, _unfendered_ and uncared for! But the bells of
Messina, all let loose together, interrupt our pleasing reverie, and our
friends, who have been hovering round us in a boat, are now permitted to
approach, and to land with us at our hotel. 'Tis our last day!--in the
evening, we go to hear Sicilian vespers for the last time; and the next
day we are off for Naples!

ADDIO! SICILIA!

On deck!--off!--Stromboli is already veiling himself in the rapidly
encroaching shades of darkness, and it is time to say good-night to
this fair night, and to go to our cabin. Beautiful Sicily! may this
_not_ be our final leave-taking! We found no poetry below, and in a
short time are driven back from the cabin by its complicated nuisances,
to moonlight contemplation, and catching cold. An hour elapses--a town
not to be forgotten by the Neapolitans is just ahead. The moon shines
brightly on its high-perched castle, and we have scarce stopped the
paddles, when our deck is invaded by a new freightage of passengers,
already far too many. Twenty boats full of noise and animation, with all
the exaggeration that attends both in these latitudes; every pair of
oars fighting for a fare, and knocking one another over board in
contention for passenger or parcel destined to land at Pizzo. They ship
about with the wildness and alacrity of South-Sea islanders; some are
all but naked, and every quarrel is conducted in such a Calabrian
brogue, that the very men of Messina profess not to understand them, and
to treat them as savages rather than as countrymen. The small fort in
front was disgraced by the nocturnal trial and prompt execution of the
unfortunate Murat. It is long ago; but of these noisy disputants for the
things to be landed, some probably had been eyewitnesses of the last
bloody act of a blood-stained throne. A poor sick horse, confined in his
narrow crib on deck, blinks at the moonlight, and can neither sleep nor
eat his corn; he drops his lower lip, and presents an appearance of more
physical suffering than we should have thought could have been
recognized in face of quadruped; but pain traces stronger lines, and
understands the anatomy of expression better than pleasure. We wished to
land for half an hour, but this being impo