soil,
are more juicy and savory than is usual in tropical regions, where they
develop to an abnormal size, and where, if the soil is too rich, the
pulp becomes spongy.

San Antonio is one of the loveliest and greenest spots on the island.
The view of the sea, city, and harbor from some of the elevated points
of the gardens is charming. Here the Duke and Duchess of Edinburgh
resided for a considerable time, and here one of their children,
Princess Victoria Melita, was born, in 1877. She is said to be the only
British princess ever born in a foreign dependency of England.

The fee of the property of San Antonio is in the British government,
having passed into its possession by right of conquest, like all other
property formerly belonging to the Order of St. John in these islands.
Pleasure unalloyed is not to be found on the earth. That we are in
terrestrial regions, and not in Paradise, is made clearly manifest not
only in this fruitful garden, but also in some decided form wherever we
seek enjoyment. The prominent objection to this beautiful location is
the maddening discomfort of flies and mosquitoes, for the place swarms
with them during four months of the year. It is a happy provision of
nature that we remember best the pleasures of our experiences in foreign
travel, and soon lose the recollection of the annoyances which we
encounter. One can dismiss the mosquito pest; but as we write these
lines there comes back to us, like a half-forgotten strain of music, the
recollection of sweet-smelling syringas, lilacs, and lemon verbena,
mingled with the all-pervading Maltese orange blossoms. Taken as a
whole, San Antonio is a perfect Gan-Eden, a garden of delights in which
to linger and to dream, forming a sort of fairy world, peopled with
blossoms, where wood-nymphs might hold their moonlight revels.

This is very pleasant to relate and to remember; it is enchanting for
the time being, and puts one at peace with all human nature; but as we
have just illustrated, in the instance of San Antonio, there is always a
reverse side to the picture.

Let us glance for a moment at the every-day street life of the Maltese
capital.

The observant stranger is struck with sadness upon first landing in
Valletta at sight of the swarming hordes of the unemployed who throng
the shore and some of the public squares of the city. He sees before him
an ignorant, hopeless, poor, hungry mass of humanity, and wonders where
these people can obta