the fountain of Nicholas and John of Pisa. It is formed by three tiers of basins, two of marble and one of bronze. The marble ones below are polygons, richly sculptured; the uppermost is a shell of bronze, from which nymphs and griffins rise and pour water. This fountain is a beautiful specimen of the art of the thirteenth century. The Municipio is one of those buildings which are common enough in Italy, or France, or Flanders, but which are too uncommon here. If we put London aside, it is very rare in England to find fine municipal buildings of any historical interest; Exeter has an old town-hall, and so has Coventry, but these are neither large nor imposing; they do not add much to the character of the towns. In Worcester there is a fine guildhall of Queen Anne's time; and Windsor, unless I mistake, has a building of the same period, though inferior to the one at Worcester. But it is, I think, impossible to find in any of our English cathedral towns, municipal buildings which can compare with the ecclesiastical ones. We have but to think of Florence or Siena, of Bruges, Louvain, or Poictiers, to see how true, unfortunately, this is; if we think of the cathedrals and town buildings in these places and in Salisbury, we shall realize the difference. However, to return to Perugia. The Municipio, there, is a fine old building of the thirteenth century, the sort of building we long for in Salisbury, quite worthy of the fountains beneath it and of the Duomo opposite. Its chief entrance, arched and beautifully enriched with twisted moulding, is terraced above the piazza on a graceful staircase. Over the arch are two large heraldic monsters with fetters of iron beneath their feet, to commemorate the triumph of Perugia over a rival city. The general appearance of the building is not very unlike that of some of the Venetian palaces, though it has not quite the lightness of the latter. Inside, on the ground floor, there is a large open hall, from which a severely plain staircase leads to the middle stories, which are still used for town business, and to the upper floor, where the picture gallery is. In this a great deal of interesting work from private galleries, churches, and country places round has been gathered together. There are some frescoes, by Bonfigli, which give a capital idea of Perugia as it was in its best days, and some specimens of early art, which show us how painting advanced by slow degrees to Perugino. No doubt there are better Peruginos elsewhere than Perugia now possesses. In Florence there are better ones, and, for color, we have a better one in the National Gallery; but to understand Perugino it is necessary to study him here, with the Umbrian people round, and the Umbrian country and coloring at hand. It is usual to speak of Perugino's work as artificial, mechanical, soulless; but when it is seen in his own country and among his own people the truer epithet for it will be realistic. His backgrounds give the flat, thinly timbered character of the Umbrian valley, or the receding ridges of the Umbrian hills, blue or brown as they are sunlit or in shadow; and the types of his people may still be seen in Perugia or about the country-side. Besides the Peruginos, there is a set of delicate little pictures by Fra Angelico; and near them hangs a painting by Boccati, one of those tender medieval works which are full of devotion and of nature. The Madonna and Child are enthroned and attended by a group of saints; inclosing them all is a ring of angels, bright, dainty, young-eyed, who are singing or playing on instruments of music. Their figures lean on a marble terrace, and all of them, Madonna, child, angels, and saints, are embowered in cypress-trees and flowers. Near the Municipio is the Cambio, the old chamber of commerce, and in its hall are some frescoes by Perugino and his pupils. Perugia is worth a visit for the sake of this alone. The walls of the Cambio are interesting, not only on account of Perugino, or on account of their workmanship, but because they show us very perfectly that strange mingling of spirits which the Renaissance produced. Sybils and prophets, saints, heroes, and vírtues cover its walls, and do honor to two great frescoes of the Nativity and Transfiguration. But on the ceiling the Greek gods reign, as they are represented by the planets we name from them; not, indeed, as we see them in the severe repose of real Greek work, but treated with a medieval, fantastic touch very foreign to the Greeks but characteristic of the lightness of early Renaissance. The chapel of the Cambio is also rich with frescoes, but restoration and repainting have hidden much of the master's work. From the Cambio the Corso leads past the new Prefettura to a terrace bright with flowers and planted with aloes. From this a wall goes sheer down to the hillside which slopes away, still downwards, to the broad space on which the cattle-fairs are held and the soldiers drilled. On the edge of it is a large old church, and from that the ground falls away to the station beneath. Beyond, the hills rise again, ridge behind ridge sweeping back into a far blue distance, where higher, bolder mountain-lines are faintly seen. To the left, Assisi gleams white on the flanks of Monte Soubasio, a bare, bleak, roundtopped hill, and from the foot of this the valley of the Tiber stretches away to the horizon. The river winds through a broad, flat valley, and flashes here and there as the sunlight catches it, while it seems as though it could never find an outlet through the gates of the hills which protect and close the valley. A few fragments of Roman sculpture are built into the wall which supports this terrace on the Assisi side. Passing these, and following a low-lying street by St. Dominico and the barracks to the Porta Romana, a road leads to the Church of St. Pietro. This is part of a Benedictine monastery, now suppressed, and in the sacristy are five very beautiful heads of saints by Perugino. The view from a small balcony, hung high in air behind the choir, is extremely good. Just opposite the church are some shady gardens, ilex-grown and cool, from which there is another pleasant view of Assisi. Past St. Pietro, too, is the road to the Etruscan tomb of the Volumnii, near Ponte St. Giovanni. This tomb is well worth a visit. Some plain steps lead down to an entrance in the solid rock, where maidenhair grows thick; a stern, carved portal guards an almost church-like excavation, with nave, chancel, and side chapels. These vaults are full of sculptured urns, in which the ashes of the Volumnian family were laid. Perugia is in many senses a city of the dead. Its streets are quiet now and still; power has left it, and its trade is small. Everything in it points to the past. In this, as I said, it is kinder to us than most historical places, it has moved fewer of its landmarks. And, oddly enough, to fit in with all this, its chief time of rejoicing is what is called the Feast of the Dead, that is, the great cattle-fair, which is held on All Souls' Day. This is the peculiar holiday of Perugia and its people. All classes share alike in the rejoicing. From their country villas the great Perugini families go to spend a few days in their palaces, which are usually all still and silent. The peasants flock in from the country-side in a long procession, with oxen and mules and donkeys; the women gay with bright shawls and handkerchiefs, and the beasts making the journey lively with their jingling bells. The face of the town itself is changed. All down the Corso are booths and stalls, which spread away into various side streets. In the market-place, under the shadow of the Duomo and the Municipio is a noisy crowd of cheap-jacks and quackdoctors. The fountain of the Pisani is circled round with pottery and china. The statue of Julius looks down on bales of wool. The theatre is open for the week, and during my visit a Miss Mèry, as she called herself with an attempt at our English Mary, was giving a wondrous entertertainment. The Corso is thronged with buyers and onlookers, and noisy with the voices of competing sellers. At one stall, just under St. Bernardino's pulpit, is a man in a large fur robe, with stentorian lungs praising scissors and patent needle-threaders. Near him a rival with a trumpet is selling knives, and at each sale he blows a terrible blast of triumph. At a third stall, a man, who has improvised a turban, scarf, and waist-belt from his gaudy wares, is selling bright colored handkerchiefs. Round a fourth is gathered a knot of keeneyed but rather frightened peasants, who are watching some experiments in electricity. Above all other noises is the shrill, perpetual scream of inflated bladders, which blow a whistle as the air escapes from them. But amid all this, the dead are not forgotten. On the evening of the day before their first vespers are sung in church and cathedral. Then, in the cemetery, which is on a hilltop just beyond the city walls, the graves are visited, and on each is placed a lighted lamp, some tombs being favored with as many as five or six. Early on the morning of the second of November a solemn mass of requiem is sung, and the cathedral rings with the stern, sweet tones of antiquated music, as eternal rest and everlasting light are begged for the departed. At times the burying-place is as busy as the fair, for everybody during the day goes to pay a visit to the grave of some well-loved lost one. The feast is indeed a Feast of the Dead ; and, somehow, the shadow of the dead seems to abide always in this Umbrian city. A peculiar sweetmeat is sold here called dead men's bones; a thick, sweet paste, of the consistency of marrow, encased in a sugar covering of the shape and color of human leg-bones. Besides this delicacy there is another eatable which savors of the grave, a small biscuit made of bean-flower, a dim relic of far-off Etruscan funeral rites. called the cake of the dead. possibly | in traversing these seas, except during the This is season of the monsoons, have often to contend against dead head-winds or calms that last for days and days. During these periods, sailing-ships have frequently, if in proximity to land, to cast anchor, to prevent being carried ashore by the various swift and conflicting currents, and at such times present capital opportunities for the marauders of the seas to carry out their nefarious designs. It is strange that this old human dwelling-place should fill with the bustle and turmoil of life only on the Feast of All Souls; that its one time of rejoicing should be the octave of the dead. And yet it is not strange; for above all other places of medieval Italy, Perugia has been the home of violence and bloodshed. The Duomo has been flooded with the blood of murdered men; faction fights have strewn its streets and palaces with corpses; its chronicles are filled with lamentation and mourning and woe. Family feuds were fiercer and more deadly here than in other places. It is fitting, then, that the living should come together here to pray that the dead may rest in peace. On reading the past one may cease to wonder that the great day in Perugia should be the Feast of the Dead. ARTHUR GALTON. From All The Year Round. A BRUSH WITH CHINESE PIRATES. Although the Chinese pirate is, as a rule, a most abject coward where Europeans are concerned, he is, at least, capable of striking terror into the hearts of his countrymen; and a couple of pirate junks, mounting but a single two-pounder gun between them, have been known to blockade a port of four thousand inhabitants, and to plunder every ship that passed. In another case, a pirate gang of five hundred, who had yielded to a rush of twenty or thirty bluejackets, had previously defied a native force of one thousand five hundred troops and forty war junks. Directly, however, a small gunboat, manned by Europeans, appeared upon the scene, their career was at an end. Chinese piracy is, at times, almost a business. A pirate merchant, in the PIRACY on the high seas is now, fortu- wholesale way, will infest certain villages nately, a crime long since dead among on the seaboard or islands. He will keep European nations. We must go back to fifteen or twenty junks, with a correspondthe early period of Marryat and Cooper, ing retinue of ruffians, and when he has if we desire to know of the atrocities and secured his plunder, he stores it in safety. iniquities committed by the hordes of law- A pirate in a small way of business, havless ruffians who used to infest the sea at ing once made a good haul, will divide the the beginning of the present century, and spoil, and then his followers immediately carry on their merciless business of butch- disperse, for fear of an attack from another ery and plunder. Our brethren in the gang. The old saying of "dog eat dog," Celestial Empire, however, are slow to re-applies with striking force to the transmove evils, and piracy with them seems actions of these plunderers of the China to die hard. Reports occasionally reach Sea. this country of some European vessel being attacked in Chinese waters by the natives; but, fortunately, owing to the extreme cowardice usually displayed by the attacking party, these attempted depredations do not often lead to any serious result. The China Sea is, principally, the happy hunting-ground of these dastardly pirates; and nature seems to have adapted it specially for that particular purpose. The China Sea is, in many places, exceedingly shallow; strong currents sweep along its course; while numerous islands, with wooded creeks, dotted here and there, afford capital shelter and points of observation for piratical junks to lie in ambush, until some unsuspecting merchantman shall heave in sight. Vessels An old traveller in the East tells the following narrative of a brush he had with Chinese pirates, when on his way, in a native junk, from Foo-choo-foo, by the mouth of the Min River, to Chusan. The story is a fair sample of the cowardice displayed by these pests, when the slightest amount of defence is shown by the party attacked. We relate it in the traveller's own words. About four o'clock in the afternoon, and when we were some fifty or sixty miles from the Min, the captain and pilot came hurriedly down to my cabin, and informed me that they saw a number of jan-dous right astern and overhauling us. I ridiculed the idea, and told them they imag ined every junk they saw to be a pirate; but they still maintained that they were so, and I, therefore, considered it prudent to be prepared for the worst. I got out of my bed, ill and feverish as I was, and carefully examined my firearms, clearing the nipples of my gun and pistols, and putting on fresh caps. I also rammed down a ball upon the top of each charge of shot in my gun, and put a pistol in side pocket, and patiently waited for the result. By the aid of a small pocket telescope, I could see, as the nearest of the five junks approached, that her deck was crowded with men. I then had no longer any doubts regarding their intentions. I knew perfectly well that, if we were taken by the pirates, I had not the slightest chance of escape, for the first thing they would do would be to knock me on the head and throw me overboard, as they would deem it dangerous to themselves were I to get away. At the same time I must confess I had little hope of being able to beat off such a number, and devoutly wished myself anywhere rather than where I was. The scene around me was a strange one. The captain, pilot, and one or two native passengers, were taking up the boards of the cabin floor, and putting their money and other valuables out of sight amongst the ballast. The common sailors, too, had their copper cash, or tsien, to hide, and the whole place was in a state of bustle and confusion. When all their more valuable property was hidden, they began to make some preparations for defence. Baskets of small stones were brought up from the hold and emptied out on the most convenient parts of the deck, and were intended to be used instead of firearms when the pirates came to close quarters. This is a common mode of defence in various parts of China, and is effectual enough when the enemy has only similar weapons to bring against them; but on the coast of Fo-kien, where we now were, all the pirate junks carried guns, and, consequently, a whole deck-load of stones could be of very little use against them. I was surrounded by several of the crew, who might well be called "Job's comforters," some suggesting one thing and some another, and many proposed that we should bring the junk round, and run back to the Min. The nearest pirate was now within two hundred or three hundred yards of us, and, putting her helm down, gave us a broadside from her guns. All was now dismay and consternation on board our junk, as every man ran below except two, who were at the helm. I expected every moment that these also would leave their post, and then we should have been an easy prey to the pirates. "My gun is nearer you than those of the jan-dous," said I to the two men; "and if you move from the helm, depend upon it I will shoot you." The poor fellows looked very uncomfortable, but, I suppose, thought they had better stand the fire of the pirates than mine, and kept at their post. Large boards, heaps of old clothes, masts, and things of that sort which were at hand, were thrown up to protect us from the shot, and as we had every stitch of sail set, and a fair wind, we were going though the water at the rate of seven or eight miles an hour. The shot from the pirates fell considerably short of us, and I was therefore enabled to form an opinion of the range and power of their guns, which was of some use to me. Assistance from our cowardly crew was quite out of the question, for there was not a man amongst them brave enough to use the stones which had been brought on deck, and which, perhaps, might have been of some little use when the pirates came nearer. The fair wind and all the press of sail we had crowded on the junk proved of no use; for our pursuers, who had much faster sailing-vessels, were gaining rapidly upon us. Again the nearest pirate fired upon us. The shot this time fell under our stern. I still remained quiet, as I had determined not to fire a single shot until I was quite certain my gun would take effect. The third shot which followed this came whizzing over our heads and through the sails, without, however, wounding either the men at the wheel or myself. During the general bustle I missed my own servant for a short time. When he returned to me, he had made such a change in his appearance that I did not recognize him. He was literally clothed in rags, which he had borrowed from the sailors, The pirates now seemed quite sure of all of whom had also put on their worst their prize, and came down upon us, hootclothes. When I asked him the reasoning and yelling like demons, at the same of this change in the outward man, he told me the pirates only made those prisoners who had money, and were likely to pay handsomely for their ransom, and that they would not think it worth their while to lay hold of a man in rags. time loading their guns, and evidently determined not to spare their shot. This was a moment of intense anxiety. The plan which I had formed from the first was now about to be put to the proof; and if the pirates were not the cowards which I believed them to be, nothing could save us from falling into their hands. Their fearful yells seem to be ringing in my ears even now, after this lapse of time, and when I am on the other side of the globe. The nearest junk was now within thirty yards of ours; their guns were now loaded, and I knew that the next discharge would completely rake our decks. "Now," said I to our helmsmen, "keep your eyes fixed on me, and the moment you see me fall flat on the deck you must do the same or you will be shot." I knew that the pirate who was now on our stern could not bring his guns to bear upon us without putting his helm down, and bringing his gangway at right angles with our stern, as his guns were fired from the gangway. I therefore kept a sharp eye upon his helmsman, and the moment I saw him putting the helm down I ordered our steersmen to fall flat upon their faces, behind some wood, and at the same time did so myself. We had scarcely done so when bang, bang, went their guns, and the shot came whizzing close over us, splintering the wood about us in all directions. Fortunately none of us were struck. "Now, M- now they are quite close enough," cried out my companions, who did not wish to have another broadside like the last. I, being of the same opinion, raised myself above the high stern of our junk, and while the pirates were not more than twenty yards from us, hooting and yelling, I raked their decks, fore and aft, with shot and ball from my double-barrelled gun. Had a thunderbolt fallen amongst them they could not have been more surprised; doubtless many were wounded and probably some killed. their guns. Watching their helm as before, we sheltered ourselves as well as we could; at the same time, my two fellows, who were steering, kept begging and pray ing that I would fire into our pursuers as soon as possible, or we should be all killed. As soon as they came within twenty or thirty yards of us, I gave them the contents of both barrels, raking their decks as before. This time the helmsman fell, and doubtless several others were wounded. In a minute or two, I could see nothing but boards and shields which were held up by the pirates to protect themselves from my firing; their junk went up into the wind for want of a helmsman, and was soon left some distance behind us. The foregoing does certainly not say much for Chinese native courage, either by the attacking or defending party. To cast the burden and peril of defence entirely upon one man, while his comrades slink below out of harm's way, seems strange to Western ideas of honor and courage. It is, however, truly typical of this extraordinary race. Actual fighting and real danger they shun as one would the plague, and it is only when the marauders of the sea can overwhelm their opponents simply by sheer force of numbers, that they are ever successful in their evil designs. If it were arranged for a few smart European gunboats to be constantly plying up and down the China Sea, and their commanders were given powers to deal summarily with all rascals caught in acts of piracy, there is but little doubt that the pirates of Chinese waters would soon be extirpated. From Chambers' Journal. BEMINI. At all events, the whole of the crew, not fewer than forty or fifty men, who a moment before crowded the deck, disapAnother peared in a marvellous manner. was now bearing down upon us as boldly AN UNINTENTIONAL as his companion had done, and commenced firing in the same manner. Having been so successful with the first, I determined to follow the same plan with this one, and to pay no attention to his firing until he should come to close quar ters. The plot now began to thicken, for the first junk had gathered way again and was following in our wake, although keeping at a respectful distance, and three others, although still further distant, were making for the scene of action as fast as they could. In the mean time, the second was almost alongside, and continued raking our decks in a steady manner with DOUBTLESS, many persons would find it difficult. to make an intentional trip to this island, so the reader may expect that an unintentional one was attended with some grave difficulties. The writer, his wife, their four young children, and their female domestic servant, were desirous of proceeding to Mobile, Alabama, with the idea of "bettering themselves," into which folly they had been seduced by a friend, who, having casually rushed through some of the Southern States, and listened to the highly colored accounts as to the future of that dismal land, had strongly advised |