The industries of Malta consist chiefly of its exquisitely made silver and gold filagree work, and its rich and Spanish-like lace, which find ready sale on the continent; its further exports being principally dried fish, luscious oranges and fruits, and vegetables.
Labour is remarkably cheap, the Maltese living on a mere nothing. A little rancid oil, shark, or any other half-putrid fish, a few olives, sour wine, and bread, and they are well feasted. Hotel expenses are not higher than on the Riviera; but amongst the best resident classes living is rather expensive, especially in the matter of clothing, nearly every article of which is imported from England. In my days, gloves used to be remarkably cheap, so much so that we could indulge in a fresh pair every evening for the Opera, and the gloves, with admittance, did not exceed the cost of an ordinary pair of gloves alone in England. The opera was our chief delight, and we could sympathize with the Italians in this pleasure.
One great drawback to visiting Malta is the fear of quarantine. Very recently a young friend of mine, an Oxford man, experienced the bitter disappointment of going all the way there, only to be "imprisoned" in the lazaretto, and was only able to talk to his friend from a distance of four yards, with a gen d'arme between them. Unfortunately, his time was too short to allow of his seeing Malta after his release from durance vile.
Having seen my wife off from Messina, I had arranged to go by steamer on the following day to Palermo, but the stormy weather had delayed the arrival of the vessel from Reggio, so I decided to go by rail instead, and hurried to the station in a violent storm of rain and hail.
The route was so full of interest, and the views so enchanting, that I did not regret the change in my plans. The coast scenery was grand and beautiful. For miles, while circling round great Etna, we were passing over vast fields of lava—the land tumbled about like the waves of a tempestuous sea, as if recently thrown up by some mighty earthquake, and all sombre-coloured and sulphurous, as though we were traversing some part of the nether world. It was a most striking contrast to the lovely scenery we had already passed, and also to that we were approaching—Aci Reale and Catania, in particular, comparing even with Monte Carlo and Monaco; groves of orange and olive trees and picturesque vineyards adorning the fine coast heights, and the blue sea beyond. The fine expansive plains around Etna brought to mind England's great naval hero, Nelson, for here was situated the territory of his Dukedom of Brontë, which in those days yielded good crops of Marsala wine. I was really sorry not to be able to spend a few days at Catania, and view more closely the lovely region around Aci Reale; but it was just here that we suddenly branched off to the west, and plunged into the heart of the island. Away we went up the mountain heights, the night closing in, and a glorious moon uprising. Sometimes we were on the mountain-tops, then again descending into the valleys beneath, only to rise like eagles, and mount to the summits once more; the moon circling round the peaks, occasionally hidden, and then appearing as if again rising in silent majesty over the beautiful landscape. About midnight we approached the coast and proceeded along by the shore once more, the great waves dashing almost up to the train as we rushed swiftly by. Soon I saw the semicircular lights of the harbour of Palermo, and in a short time the train steamed into the station.
I think this was the grandest and most interesting railway journey I ever made, and I shall not soon forget the impression I received.