VOYAGE OUT. 3 On the 21st we passed the island of Panteliari, one of those volcanic productions of the Mediter ranean, which even now are growing up, rising, and disappearing. The town on the island is made up of square, flat-roofed houses ; they are invariably white washed, and therefore give the appearance, in the distance, of a lot of tombstones, the vegetation being so scarce that it does not take way from this effect. A very amusing story has just been told me, re lating to the controversy between a swell and very advanced Ritualist, and a by no means clever, but very determined member of the Low Church. These two were sitting opposite to each other at dinner, when the Ritualist happened to observe that they always had matins in his church. The other immediately pricked up his ears at this, and taking it as a challenge, shouted, much to the amusement of the company, “ Why, mats, only mats! We have in our church kamptulicon right up to the altar! ” We arrived at Malta at 5 a.m. the 23rd of Novem ber, and, passing the splendid lighthouse of St. Elmo on our right, and port Ricasoli on our left, anchored close to the Custom-house. The captain having told us the ship was to remain until the afternoon, everybody hurried off to the town. Our party landed at the steps and walked on to the square in front of the Government-house, to enjoy fresh bread and butter, and good coffee—a luxury we had so long been deprived of. After that we visited the Church of St.John, which, crowded as it is with remembrances of
