economy, that they will be at least less apt to rush into fields where
their help is not wanted. We wish to assist in creating a public opinion
on this subject, which, fixing on shopkeeping in such circumstances the
odium of a masked idleness, will tend to send the undecided into
courses of real activity and serviceableness; thus securing their own
good by the only plan which can be safely depended upon--that of first
securing the good of the entire community.
FOOTNOTES:
[1] Mr F. O. Ward.
THE VENDETTA.
In the morning, we were off the coast of Sardinia, steaming rapidly
along for the Straits of Bonifacio. The night had been tranquil, and the
morning was more tranquil still; but no one who knew the capricious
Mediterranean felt confident of continued fair weather. However, at sea
the mind takes little thought for the morrow, or even for the afternoon;
and as we sat in the warm shade of the awning, looking out to the
purple horizon in the east, or to the rocky and varied coast to the west, I
felt, and if the countenance be not treacherous, all felt that it was good
even for landsmen to be moving over waters uncrisped except by the
active paddles, beneath a sky all radiant with light. My companions
were chiefly Levant merchants, or sallow East Indians; for I was on
board the French packet Le Caire, on its way from Alexandria, of
Egypt, to Marseille.
I had several times passed the Straits, each time with renewed pleasure
and admiration. It would be difficult to imagine a scene more wild and
peculiar. After rounding the huge rock of Tavolara--apparently a
promontory running boldly out into the sea, but in reality an island, we
are at once at the mouth of the Straits. The mountains of Corsica,
generally enveloped in clouds, rise above the horizon ahead, and near at
hand a thousand rocks and islands of various dimensions appear to
choke up the passage. The narrow southern channel, always selected by
day, is intricate, and would be dangerous to strangers; and indeed the
whole of the Straits are considered so difficult, that the fact of Nelson,
without previous experience, having taken his fleet through, is cited
even by French sailors as a prodigy.
On one of the rocky points of the Sardinian coast, I observed the ruins
of a building, but so deceptive is distance, I could not at first determine
whether it had been a fortress or a cottage. I asked one of the officers
for his telescope; and being still in doubt, questioned him as I returned
it. He smiled and said: 'For the last five or six years, I have never
passed through the Straits by day without having had to relate the story
connected with that ruin. It has become a habit with me to do so; and if
you had not spoken, I should have been compelled, under penalty of
passing a restless night, to have let out my narrative at dinner. You will
go down to your berth presently; for see how the smoke is weighed
down by the heavy atmosphere upon the deck, and how it rolls like a
snake along the waters! What you fancy to be merely a local head-wind
blowing through the Straits, is a mistral tormenting the whole Gulf of
Lions. We shall be tossing about presently in a manner unpleasant to
landsmen; and when you are safely housed, I will come and beguile a
little time by relating a true story of a Corsican Vendetta.'
The prophecy was correct. In less than a quarter of an hour, Le Caire
was pitching through the last narrows against as violent a gale as I ever
felt. It was like a wall of moving air. The shores, rocks, and islands
were now concealed by driving mist; and as the sea widened before us,
it was covered with white-crested waves. Before I went below, a cluster
of sails ahead was pointed out as the English fleet; and it was surmised
that it would be compelled to repeat Nelson's manoeuvre, as Sardinia
and Corsica form a dangerous lee-shore. However, the atmosphere
thickened rapidly; and we soon lost sight of all objects but the waves
amidst which we rolled, and the phantom-like shores of Corsica.
The officer joined me, and kept his promise. By constant practice, he
had acquired some skill in the art of telling at least this one story; and I
regret that I do not remember his exact words. However, the following
is the substance of his narrative:--Giustiniani and Bartuccio were
inhabitants of the little town of Santa Maddalena, situated on the
Corsican side of the Straits. They were both sons of respectable parents,
and were united from an early age in the bonds of
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