on of the Bourbons from
Naples, and many think on account of it. There is this to be said in
favor of the Bourbons: that a dry time never had occurred while they
reigned,--a statement in which all good Catholics in Sorrento will
concur. As the drought went on, almost all the wells in the place dried
up, except that of the Tramontano and the one in the suppressed convent
of the Sacred Heart,--I think that is its name.

It is a rambling pile of old buildings, in the center of the town, with
a courtyard in the middle, and in it a deep well, boring down I know
not how far into the rock, and always full of cold sweet water. The
nuns have all gone now; and I look in vain up at the narrow slits in the
masonry, which served them for windows, for the glance of a worldly or
a pious eye. The poor people of Sorrento, when the public wells and
fountains had gone dry, used to come and draw at the Tramontano; but
they were not allowed to go to the well of the convent, the gates were
closed. Why the government shut them I cannot see: perhaps it knew
nothing of it, and some stupid official took the pompous responsibility.
The people grumbled, and cursed the government; and, in their
simplicity, probably never took any steps to revoke the prohibitory
law. No doubt, as the government had caused the drought, it was all of a
piece, the good rustics thought.

For the government did indirectly occasion the dry spell. I have the
information from the Italian lady of whom I have spoken. Among the first
steps of the new government of Italy was the suppression of the useless
convents and nunneries. This one at Sorrento early came under the ban.
It always seemed to me almost a pity to rout out this asylum of praying
and charitable women, whose occupation was the encouragement of beggary
and idleness in others, but whose prayers were constant, and whose
charities to the sick of the little city were many. If they never were
of much good to the community, it was a pleasure to have such a sweet
little hive in the center of it; and I doubt not that the simple people
felt a genuine satisfaction, as they walked around the high walls, in
believing that pure prayers within were put up for them night and day;
and especially when they waked at night, and heard the bell of the
convent, and knew that at that moment some faithful soul kept her
vigils, and chanted prayers for them and all the world besides; and they
slept the sounder for it thereafter. I confess