hearts could be stirred by things political-that they who seem so indifferent to all things but the passing hour should ever stir themselves to action and strike for a good cause. But they can do so-they have done so lately-they are very likely shouting their "Viva Garibaldi" at this hour. And they rose up in all their strength two hundred years and more ago, and enthroned their liberator. It was a brief struggle, but a brave oue-marred by selfish aims and petty jealousies, but it still stands out boldly in the page of history-an example and a warning.

The strange narrative of Masaniello and his eight days' of royalty we relate as a strong illustration of Austrian and Spanish despotism, and the aspirations of the Neapolitan people two centuries ago.

Charles V., Emperor of Germany and King of Spain, was also monarch of Naples, which in his time, and for a long period afterwards, was attached to the Spanish crown. During his reign and those of his successors, Philip II., Philip III., and Philip IV., the country was governed by the Viceroys of Spain, and suffered greatly from their oppression. The Neapolitans were most unwilling to submit to their Spanish masters, and every fresh impost was the occasion of an outbreak more or less serious, insurrections usually suppressed with tolerable facility by the soldiers and the hangman. In 1647 there ruled in Naples the Duke of Arcos; and on him Philip IV. of Spain relied for the defence of Naples against the machinations of Louis XIV. and Cardinal Mazarin, and also to realise as much profit out of the Neapolitans as it might be possible to obtain by fines, fiscal regulations, and other methods known to ministers of finance. In consequence of this double charge Arcos employed a vast number of spies, police, revenue officers, informers and the like; and the exciseman, never a very popular person, became the embodiment of everything that was hateful to the Neapolitans. One method adopted, that of farming the taxes, was the most distasteful of all. The farmers-general were the most rapacious of men, grinding the faces of the poor, and hunting up all defaulters with a perseverance worthy of a better cause.

One brilliant summer's day, as the Naples bay was calmly sleeping and the last rays of the setting sun changed its purple to gold, when nobles, fishermen, and citizens were idly lounging, watching the few vessels whose white sails were spread in vain for a breeze, a young peasant woman, carrying in her apron fruits more luxurious than befitted her condition, entered the church of the Virgin of Carmel and kneeled down before the image of the Virgin. The nave was almost deserted, the

mother for Spain.

At the same time a courier was despatched by the marquis with a letter to the French ambassador at Rome-a letter which contained, among other matters of less importance, this statement -"Whenever the fleet and the money of Mazarin arrive off Naples, the Neapolitans are ready for revolt."

Employing the money generously presented to her by Marie Arcos in the manner she proposed, Marie Aniello had been able to provide a more comfortable home than they had hitherto known, at Amalfi, and looked

forward to a happy, peaceful life. Unfortunately, hating the imposition of the government almost as much as did her husband, she permitted herself an act of indiscretion which hastened the catastrophe she so much dreaded. Visiting the city on one occasion she contrived to conceal a small quantity of contraband goods in a bundle, made up to represent a young baby. In the innocence of her heart she imagined that this little deceit would delude the officers of customs. An exciseman is all eyes and ears. The trick was discovered; the offender treated with great severity and lodged in goal. A very heavy fine was imposed.