he architect, is extremely interesting. Flat roofs and
projecting stone balconies from the upper windows are perhaps the most
characteristic features of the houses. The churches, though large, are
seldom beautiful specimens of architecture; and the interior is in general
extremely ornate, and decorated with gaudy gilding and pictures, and
images of CHRIST and saints, disgustingly painted. The streets, wide or
narrow, would appear to us somewhat gloomy and prison-like; and paint is a
thing scarcely known on the exterior or perhaps interior of an ordinary
house. The air of the interior of the common houses of the Sicilian towns
is as gloomy and comfortless as can be imagined. A few wooden benches, a
table firmly fixed in the stone pavement, a fire-place composed of a few
blocks of stone placed on the floor, the smoke of which is allowed to make
its escape as it best can at the window, which is always destitute of
glass, and is closed by a rude wooden shutter when required; a bed
consisting of a mattress of the same hue as the floor, raised a few feet
from it by means of boards on a rude frame; some sheep-skins for blankets,
and sheets of coarse stuff whose color serves as an effectual check on the
curiosity of him who would pry too closely into its texture; are the chief
articles of furniture to be found in the habitations of the Sicilian poor.
Beside the human inhabitants of these uninviting abodes, there are
innumerable lively creatures, whose names it were almost impolite to
mention in polished ears; and I might not have alluded to them had they
confined themselves to such places; but they rejoice in the palace as well
as in the cottage, and to the traveller's sorrow inflict themselves
without his consent as travelling companions through the whole Sicilian
tour.

The houses of the more wealthy are spacious and airy, but not much
superior in point of comfort. They are often of commanding exterior, and
are called _palazzi_, or palaces. Of course, there are exceptions to this
general character of discomfort; but judging from my own observation, they
are few. On approaching a Sicilian village, the eye of the traveller will
almost surely be attracted by a capacious and solid building, surmounted
by a belfry-tower, and commanding the most charming prospect in the
vicinity. It is surrounded with orange groves and cypress-trees, and looks
like a place fitted for the enjoyment of a contemplative life. He will not
long remain in