Traveller.

Alexandra Herald and Central Otago Gazette, Issue 391, 5 November 1903, Page 2

Traveller.

CAMALDOLI. tiHHHE Monastery of the Camaldoli, by m| Naples, iB a Tery interesting place; efl&* it ia situated on the top of a bill nearly 150O£t. above Naples. Ton pass from the suburbs of the city into a narrow lane channelled through the grey tufa rock, The lane proceeds into delightful woods which cluster at the base of the monastery, and so gradually conducts you to the conventual gate. But on tVe way three or four of these objectionable barricades have to be traversed. Two of them may be forced by the bold man at no cost to himself, notwithstanding the inscribed board which declares that all pedestrians shall pay twenty-five cents who make ess of the track. But the person who hesitates is lost. Any old hag of the vicinity, or rude boy with an average Neapolitan tongue in bis head, will then assume to be the collector of this official customs, and mate the stranger miserable until he has paid the money. Higher up, however, there is a more determined pad'ock upon the pith. This time there is no eec&pe. And so, when Camaldoli is attained, and you are received by the bald-headed monk who ia doing porter's duty, you aro not in as good a humour as it were desirable should possess you. But, like enough, the monk will at once take pains to soothe you.. He will assure you that it is a monstrous thing that the Cimorra should thus blockade the monastery with their wicketa of exaction, and will especially impress upon you that the monastery gains nothing by these several fees, which, indeed, often deter visitors from ascending the heights. What a gladsome, bright place is this old monastery «n a summer's day ! Naples is below, hot and white, and you see the blinding dust eddying along the straight road which runs at tbe foot of the hill between the metropolis and Pozzuoli, E?en the sea is of blue too intense for comfort, so eloquent is it of heat upon the level. And the distant mountain outline?, and the shadowy shape of Capri across the Bay, have the pearly tint which seems to be part of the prerogative of a grilling atmosphere as a medium. But though the day be ev:r so stifling below, the monks of Camaldoli breathe an air that is fresh, without being cold. The trees in the conventual grounds flutter their leaves; and one may sit on the stone benches atd smoke or talk in the shade with a sense of comfort that Naples herself at such a moment could not generate. If the good old recluse who acts as cicerone on this occasion brings a bottle of old Posilipo and seta it on the stone by your side with an invitation to drink, so much the better. They are but a sad sommunity nowadays, these monks of Camaldoli. Our guide tells the tale like the hero of Wordsworth's moving little poem. s We were at one tim 9 five-and-tbirty, signor; now, alas, we are but nine!' Instead, however, of adding that the twenty-sis have gone to a better world, he can only say that they have been dispersed about the earth which he himself still inhabits. The Government has appropriated the I conventual lands, and this grave curtailment of the revenue of the Carauldoli i was, of course, synonymous with expulsion of the greater number of the monks themselves. So merciless have the authorities been, that with the conventual vineyards and woods which girdle the building they have sold the very well upon which the monks depend forthtk supply of water. The well is in the centre of a quadrangle of the conventual buildings, and yet the monks have to aek permission to drink of it. By the well are two large camelia trees, thick with crimson blossoms. Heedlessly enough, the stranger perchance may pick a flower or two, and not learn until then that the blossoms, like the well, are secular property, which it is a penal offence to touch without precise and particular license. • Ah, sir,' moans the monk, with the intonation one soon gets to individualise az • the clerical wail/ * we are in a bad plight. If there Wore no generous strasgerß from otb.tr lands, like yourself, who come to see us, and help us ia our poverty, we should all have to leave the loved luUding, and our altar would be desolate/ I will not say that this sort of addr< S3 destroys much of the pleasure of a visit to the Camaldoli, but it certainly Alls one with a sew and quite unexpected sense of responsibility, which grows more and more disquieting as the moment for departure arrives. Who, after being told that he iB regarded as a prop of a failing establishment, can have the to look in his guide-book and act upon its parsimonious injunction to give the monk a mora half-franc for his pains ? Within the building there is not much to see; the attraction is all external. People come and sit and look for hours at the historic city beneath them. What they think absut while they thus indulge in 'dolce far niente' none but themselves can say.' The monk babbles while tbey gaze, and sighs plaintively, accepting now and again a cigar or a cigarette, which, with a gentle eroi'e, he stows in the pocket of his gowa «to smoke another time,' to-day being a fast day of a rigorous kind.

By special favour we obtain a glimpse of the domestic economy of the place. What a cheerless building it ie within contrasted with the colour and sunny radiance of the outer precincts! Tfce rooms are large, and bare and white ; and the passages and coiridors echo with your footfalls in a surprising manner. There is a sorrowful air of desertion everywhere. The breeze, so welcome outside, here tirida crannies and doorways to sing melancholy music in. Every passage murmurs a new kind of coronach; Bnd the monk's ione of dolour ig ever a keynote to it. The pathetic atmosphere becomes at length oppressive. Will nothing rcusa tb.9 good father into an outburst of natnral indignation ? Resignation is of course a virtue, thongh of the passive kind. But not even mention of Garibaldi or Crispi has such effect.

Before W8 leave the monastery tho monk offers us the book containing 'nomi. Dei signeii vititateri i 5 qaalx lasciano la cara mesxcris in questo laogo di Canmldoli,' Waa ever a touriat requested to sign the visitors' baok with more courtesy ? Ifc is like an entreaty to the strong from the weak and helpless.—C. E.