The Maltese are a light-hearted, merry-making race, ever ready to put aside
their work and join in the gaieties which accompany the many festas of their
calendar the Church, indeed, accompanying the Maltese peasant in some form or
other from the cradle to the grave. The principal building in a casal is the
parish church, which generally stands upon a fine piazza, and has often been
erected by the voluntary labour of the villagers men and children carrying the
stones from the quarry, and the women mixing the mortar for the masons. In this
way was built the church at Musta, resembling the Pantheon, the dome of which
is said to be the third largest hi the world. It is described in Fergusson's
'History of Architecture.' The church in a casal, therefore, by reason of this
personal bond, becomes an object of loving care to the inhabitants, who endeavour
in adorning it to surpass the artistic efforts of their neighbours. On the festa
of the village commemorating a titular saint, legend, or historic event the interior
is, in addition to the usual elaborate altar decorations, embellished with green
leaves and flowers strewn upon the floor and curtains of red damask upon the
walls, which latter often mar the architectural beauty of the building ; but
the bright colour seems to charm the multitude, and, as it is their church, one
cannot criticize. The people especially delight in the illuminations on the evening
of a festa, when the facades of the churches are outlined by hundreds of lamps
of coloured glass.
Many of the villagers belong to confraternities guilds which meet for prayer
and to perform works of charity, or to assist the priests in the numerous processions.
On these latter occasions the members, or fratelli, as they are sometimes called,
wear long white garments, like an alb, reaching to the ankles, and silk capes
of green, brown, or red according to the particular confraternity, adding another
note of colour to the already crowded canvas of Church ceremonial in Malta. Great
is the honour to the young man who has been elected by his comrades to carry
in these processions the banner of his guild, behind which is also carried a
crucifix and two ornamental silver lanterns mounted upon poles. The labours of
the day are hardly ever begun in Malta without a visit to some favourite church
generally to attend Mass on the part of all from the poorest workman to the busy
merchant ; and in the evening parties of workmen may be seen returning home along
the country roads, seated upon some friendly stone-cutter's low flat cart reciting
their rosaries.
An English novelist in ' The Lost Key,' a story dealing with Maltese life,
has well described this deeply religious vein in a vignette of the interior of
St. John's Church: The nave was almost empty, but here and there, before a
side-altar, was a kneeling figure shrouded in a faldetta, her lips moving rapidly
with a gentle murmur as the beads of her rosary slipped through her fingers ;
and little children ran in and out, the boys pulling their ragged caps off their
little rough heads, and all dipping their dirty fingers in the holy water stoup
as they made their reverence to the altar. The Church was evidently the home
of the poor and the little ones. Underfoot was the gorgeous mosaic pavement,
memorials to Grand Masters and other great personages among the Knights. On the
walls and columns and altars were the trophies of their valour, and the signs
of their magnificence, now gone for ever ; but the Maltese sun still burnt fierce
and strong, and the Maltese men and women and little children still passed into
the shade of the sanctuary for a moment in the midst of their work and play to
adore, if but for a moment, that unseen but supreme Power in which they still
retain an undiminished faith.'
In the numerous churches may be found 'bambini' and statues of the saints laden with necklaces, hearts, and crowns of silver, as votive offerings in return for answered prayers, and in many shrines crude pictures hang upon the walls, showing the donors in the act of miraculously escaping from burning houses, shipwrecks, and such like terrifying dangers.
The men from the country formerly appeared upon festas, as they do still in
Gozo, in the costume of 'Zeppo' (the name by which a peasant is generally known),
consisting of a sort of black velvet vest decorated with the well-known peasant-
buttons of silver filigree, with a coat slung over the shoulders for ornament,
velvet trousers reaching below the knee, white stockings, and a bright girdle
twisted many times round the waist. The men ,of the poorer class, as a rule,
never wear boots or shoes ; if anything, they wear a sort of sandal called a
korsh. The peasants also carry a sort of long stocking-bag of bright striped
stuff, called a horja, worn hanging gracefully over the left shoulder, in which
they keep their food for the day, or put their purchases when marketing.
Filigree work in both gold and silver has long been a staple craft of the Maltese, which they probably learnt from contact with the Levant, whence also it came to the southern cities of Italy. The metal-workers in Strada Irlandese as in other old towns, certain streets in Valletta were assigned to particular trades formerly also made massive brass knockers in the shape of dolphins, realistic reproductions of the fish, which still adorn the doors of most of the better houses in the island. Souvenirs for tourists, too, are cleverly made by embellishing all sorts of articles with the coins of the departed Order huge thick silver pieces, flamboyantly emblazoned with the arms of the Grand Masters, in direct violation of the Rule of Raymond, which forbade such worldly vanities. This coinage was accepted currency for many years under British rule.
The women of Malta, who are petites, have been remarked for the gracefulness
of their carriage and the smallness of their hands and feet, their olive complexions
and rather full red lips being well set off in the frame of the black faldetta
'ce joli vetement,' as Rene Bazin has called it from beneath which smile roguishly
their dark, languorous, long-lashed eyes. They all wear, even the poorest, an
immense quantity of jewellery, and 'Carmela,' who scrubs the floor bare-footed,
will appear on a festa with filigree brooches, bangles, and earrings that her
English mistress might envy. The Maltese revere their religion above all things,
and after it their womenfolk, and in consequence jealously guard their wives
and daughters, placing, until quite recently, upon them undue and antiquated
restrictions. An old Maltese maxim said that a woman should appear but twice
in public once on the day of her wedding, and once again at her funeral! Though
doubtless this rule was not strictly followed, there is still ample room for
some Maltese Christabel Pankhurst to arise and tell the tale of the subjection
of her sex in the 'Island of Heroes.'
On religious festivals, when the needs of the soul have been satisfied with Procession, High Mass, and Benediction, the people settle down for the rest of the day to a solid bout of eating, drinking, and innocent, if somewhat noisy, amusement.
Formerly the Upper Barracca in Valletta was roofed in, and here the country-folk,
who had come to the city for the day, encamped and picnicked. Innumerable booths
are now erected in the streets, or upon the piazzas outside the churches, where
wonderful pastries and sweetmeats are exposed for sale: including plenty of the
famous cheese cakes called kassatat, with pastizzi, nougat, high piled pyramids
of honey and almonds, and fruits of all kinds. A picturesque figure on these
occasions, giving an Eastern touch to the scene, is the boy who sells tumblers
of iced water from a barrel slung across his shoulders. Light Sicilian wine,
very cheap, sour, and sold from the cask, plays a large part in these celebrations.
As \ a rule the Maltese peasant is very frugal, bread, or pasta, with a few olives,
a little oil, and some goat's-milk cheese, forming the chief support of the poorer
classes, who seldom, or never, eat meat.
In the evenings the crowds love to wander up and down the streets of Valletta,
or the casals, singing Maltese airs and comic songs, the latter with plenty of
local and pointed personal allusions, accompanied by guitars or the less romantic
concertinas. Then certainly will be heard that well-known ditty, Meta morna
tal Melleha (' When we went into the country'), containing many affectionate
allusions to tal rosolin, a favourite liqueur, from the potent effects of which,
if the song is to be believed, a catastrophe occurred to a party of twenty-one
merry-makers. The music of this song is distinctly Eastern, like all the traditional
native melodies, in its falling rhythm, and the rather mournful notes are little
suggestive of the hilarious theme. As the evening of a festa draws to a close,
the people are quite beside themselves with excitement, and the din in the streets
is terrific ; but their amusement is all harmless enough, as the very small number,
if any at all, brought before the magistrate next morning may testify.
The festa of San Gregorio presents a curious example of the mixture of religious
ceremony and rustic revels. A procession of all the clergy of the towns and villages,
with the Cathedral canons, starts from Casal Paola in the morning, passing through
Zeitun, a village famous for olives and wine, to the Church of San Gregorio,
while the cry ' Sancte Gregorie ora pro nobis ' is chanted by the crowd upon
the way. As the various confraternities, all present in full force, arrive at
the church, the leaders lower the banners of the different guilds at the threshold
in honour of the saint. The banners are then flourished in the air, a performance
of considerable danger to the heads of the spectators by reason of the size of
the banners and the muscular Christianity of the bearers, who are worked by this
time into a sort of religious frenzy. The police try to moderate these displays,
and good-natured scuffles invariably ensue. When the religious ceremonies in
the church are ended, the crowds return to Zeitun, where a sort of fairing is
held, to which in particular come young married couples, a custom described in
some traditional Maltese verses of which the following is a translation:
'THE SWEETHEART'S BARGAIN'.
'In the wedding or matrimonial contract They make this conjugal bargain: That
he shall take her to the Feast of San Gregorio; Shall set her upon the wall;
Shall buy her a slice of sweetmeat, made of hempseed and honey, For that is the
kind that best pleases his lady the bride.'
The Carnival, lasting the four days before Lent, is the festival best known
to English visitors, and this round of revelry is formally commenced upon the
Saturday by the Parata, which is held in St. George's Square. Here a body of
men assemble, some dressed as Turks, in baggy trousers and jewelled turbans,
others representing Christians, who renew in mock combat, with wooden swords,
the old feud of the Crescent and the Cross, dancing all the time to a catchy
tune: the display ending by the performers lifting up on their shoulders a little
girl called 'G-harusa tal Parata', or 'The Bride of the Dance,' who waves a
small dagger in her hand and throws kisses to the crowd. This performance, having
been witnessed by the Governor from the balcony of the Palace, is afterwards
repeated at the corners of the principal streets in Valletta. The Carnival itself
is too well known to need any description, the ensuing four days being given
over by rich and poor to hilarious amusement: revelers, masked and in dominoes,
are free to enter the houses of their friends, and much merriment is caused in
the efforts to discover the identity of the numerous visitors.
The anniversary of the raising of the Great Siege, called the Fittoria, is
celebrated as a national holiday upon September 8, when the places associated
with that historic event are decked with evergreens, red and white flags, and
streamers bearing the names of Knights who distinguished themselves in the year
1565. Formerly, some of the identical suits of armour worn by the Knights in
the defence, with the rents and holes made by Turkish sabre and shot, were placed
during the day for the public to view in St. George's Square, at which awestruck
peasants came to gaze from the ends of the island. The crypt, with the tomb of
La Valette in St. John's, is thrown open to the public, who visit it, and the
Column of Victory at (Citta) Vittoriosa (old Birgu or Borgo), in great numbers.
The women in Rabat who were unable to leave their homes for the commemoration
in Valletta used to climb out upon the roofs, and keep up in chorus with one
another across the housetops a sort of pasan of victory, in memory, no doubt,
of the honourable part their sex played in the siege, when they helped to repulse
the Turks by carrying the ammunition to the guns.
Such celebrations are accompanied by much sound from the bells of the many
churches, which are not rung in the ordinary sense, but simply hammered in a
primitive manner, usually by small boys, without any regard to time or melody
a custom said to have come from Sicily, like many other curious things in Malta.
Numerous small bronze or iron petards, filled with powder and stone, are fired
off during the day, and a grand display of fireworks usually terminates the festivities.
A somber prelude to the Fittoria, called "Libera tal Cavalieri",
is held upon the eve of September 8, when a Requiem Mass for those who fell in
the Siege is celebrated in all the churches, including the chapel in Vittoriosa
where lie the mutilated remains of those gallant Brethren who sacrificed themselves
in Fort St. Elmo.
The Maltese, indeed, do not forget their dead. The Addolorata Cemetery, situated beyond the Marsa, is one of the finest in Europe, from the beauty of its monuments and the care with which it is kept. On All Souls' Day the grounds are illuminated with thousands of small lamps placed on the graves, beside which gather a vast concourse of relations and friends to pray for the souls of the departed.
In the Chapel of Bones you have a memento mori of a very gruesome nature.
It is a small crypt under what was once the Hospital for Incurables, at the end
of Strada Mercanti, the walls of which are entirely covered with skulls and bones
of many hundreds of the departed patients not, as some imagine, of those who
fell in the Great Siege. The various arms, legs, finger-bones, and so forth,
have been carefully sorted together and then arranged in quite artistic patterns
by a former chaplain of the hospital.
More gruesome still is the sight to be seen in the vault of the Convent of
the Capuchins, where the shriveled bodies of the deceased brethren, preserved
intact through some property of the atmosphere, stand upright in niches round
the walls, dressed in the habits of their Order. The public used to be admitted
once a year to a Requiem Mass in the vault, when, vanitas vanitatum, the bodies
were decked with flowers. This practice has been discontinued, and special permission
must now be obtained from the Father Superior to visit the vault.
Many Maltese customs are undoubtedly of pagan origin, adapted by the early
Church to Christian ideas. On St. John's Eve bonfires are lighted, with the permission
of the authorities, by the country people in all sorts of places street corners,
roadways, and gardens, and the people may be observed jumping through the flames,
a performance resembling some ancient Roman rite. The Knights observed this custom
of the Maltese, as they did many others no doubt to keep in favour with the populace
and so upon St. John's Eve the Grand Master, supported by the Bishop and the
Grand Prior, proceeded in great state to the Hospital of the Order where he solemnly
set alight eight barrels of pitch.
On Candlemas Day, when ' new fire ' in the shape of candles is still blessed
in all the churches, every parish priest used to present the Bishop and the Governor
with a two-pound candle, in token of allegiance to the ecclesiastical and civil
authorities. On the Imnaria, a corruption of the Latin illuminaria, fires are
lighted upon the top of the old church in Citta Vecchia, and are watched by thousands
of the country folk, when once again this ancient town, called by a recent writer
the 'City of the Dead,' awakens into life. At the end of the day races are run
outside the gates by the Maltese, upon mules and ponies: hundreds of the country
women having taken up their post on the walls in the scorching sun from early
morning to secure a good view. St. Rocco's Races are run from Pieta to Porta
des Bombes upon bare backed mules and horses, for which prizes, including elaborate
gold brocade favours, are presented by the Government, as was done by the Grand
Masters. Few who look at these races realize that they commemorate the termination
of the great plague which devastated Malta in 1593. During the ' Vittoria,' boat-races,
also, are rowed by crews representing the different fishing villages around the
coast, from Ras Hanzier to the Custom-house. Ras Hanzier, meaning ' the point
of the sow,' it may be remarked, embodies in its name a local legend, which tells
that one of these animals was lost in the catacombs in Citta Vecchia,
and eventually appeared by an underground tunnel five miles long at this point
in the Grand Harbour.
Those interested in ecclesiastical history should visit the Greek church in
Strada Vescovo in Valletta, where the Greek Rite is observed in a church in communion
with Rome: a tradition which may extend as far back as the time of the Greek
Bishop of Malta whose death is chronicled in the Arab invasion of the year 870.
Good Friday presents a curious piece of religious realism in the richly canopied
bed, upon which lies an effigy of the dead Christ, carried by the fratelli of
the Confraternity of the Crucifixion through the streets of Valletta. The procession
was until recently followed by many pious persons, inflicting penances upon themselves,
and dragging heavy chains along the Way of the Cross. On the Feast of St. Paul
a more joyful procession takes place, when the statue of the Patron Saint of
the island is carried through a gaily decorated route in Valletta, while a body
of young men, waving branches of palms, dance before the figure as it is borne
along.
A simpler ceremony, which will appeal to the religion of 'any plain man,'
as Butler might say, is found in the blessing of the beasts of burden upon St.
Anthony's Day, when a priest sprinkles holy water upon a number of horses, mules,
and donkeys decked with ribbons, drawn up before the steps of the Church of the
Vittoria in Valletta. The ceremony is repeated at Citta Vecchia in the Augustinian
Convent, where, in addition, the dumb performers receive a feed of barley perhaps
in accordance with the monastic law of hospitality. Pilgrimages, amongst others,
take place to Melleha, where, in a small chapel, there hangs a picture of the
Blessed Virgin Mary said to have been painted by St. Luke.
Superstitions are plentiful in Maltese life. A child's first birthday is the
occasion of the Kucija, at which the child is offered a basket containing a variety
of articles, such as a crucifix, inkpot, sword, and so forth, his choice of one
of these being supposed to indicate the profession for which he is destined by
Providence. Marriages in Malta are largely arranged by the parents, the happy
pair often meeting for the first time in the role of lovers at the ceremony of
the betrothal, called Chelma. At this gathering of friends and relatives
the young man presents his fiancee with a fish, containing a ring in its mouth,
and the respective mothers mix aniseed, salt, and honey together, with which
they rub the lips of the intended bride, the mixture being supposed to make her
affable and prudent. Rings like those seen in Italy, with the symbol of hands
united, are exchanged. The marriage itself is the occasion of great gaiety, and
in the country usually terminates with a rustic dance and a feast, at which the
bride and bridegroom drink out of the same cup to signify their happy union.
The priest who marries them is generally given, as his fee for the ceremony,
a cake and a couple of bottles of wine.
Some superstitions are distinctly curious. The ' Evil Eye ' is an ever-present
danger in Malta, and as protection against it young and old, as in Italy, wear
trinkets made of coral shaped into a hand ' making the horns.' No carozza driver,
for instance, likes to drive out after dark without someone sitting on the box
beside him ; and so at sunset little Maltese boys, sons or younger brothers,
always appear upon the scene to fill the vacant seat, or else his Satanic majesty
might mount and drive the vehicle with its owner to perdition. The inquiring
mind would like to know why it is considered unlucky to eat cabbages on New Year's
Day, and why a child absent from the family gathering upon St. Martin's Day bodes
ill to the house. Some startling beliefs, at first sight ridiculous, may have
some sound sense at the bottom of them. Thus the distinctly homoeopathic cure
for fright consists of giving the patient a plate of soup ; then informing him,
when he has enjoyed it, that it has been made from a dead puppy, this agreeable
declaration being followed up by dashing the animal, in quite a " habeas
corpus ' manner, into the plate before him. Something distinctly utilitarian,
too, may be found in the warning given to children in a country where water is
scarce that if they drop stones into a well they will be required, as punishment
in the next world, to pull them out with their eyelashes. The Maltese language
abounds in proverbs and maxims, illustrating the customs and beliefs of the people,
and it is rich in folklore and legends, in which latter, as may be expected,
the Saints of the Church and the Knights of the Order largely figure. Here is
one which may be taken as typical:
THE LEGEND OF OUR LADY OF LIESSE.
In the year 1134 three brothers, Frenchmen of noble birth, from Picardy, all
three Knights of the Order of St. John, were taken prisoners in a fight with
the infidels near Ascalon, then in possession of the Egyptians. As soon as they
were cured of their wounds they were sent as a present to the Soldan of Egypt,
and, on their refusing to become Mohammedans, were thrown into prison. But the
Soldan had such an intense wish to induce them to turn renegades, that, when
the priests of his creed failed to convert them, he sent his daughter Ismeria,
who was deeply learned in the doctrines of Mohammed, to argue with the Knights.
But the latter remained firm, and explained the doctrines of Christianity so
forcibly to the girl that she was seized with the greatest desire to possess
an image of the Blessed Virgin, and brought a piece of wood and carving tools
to the Knights, entreating them to carve a figure for her. D'Eppee, the eldest
of the brothers, promised that she should have the image, and when she left them,
as neither of them could carve, all three betook themselves to fervent prayer.
During the following night the angels brought a small image of the Blessed Virgin,
which shed a brilliant light in the prison, and perfumed it with sweet odours
; and when Ismeria came next morning, the Knights gave her the image, which they
called Our Lady of Liesse the last word meaning gladness and rejoicing. In obedience
to the commands of the Blessed Virgin, Ismeria liberated the Knights, and commenced
with them the flight to France. They passed unquestioned through the streets
of Cairo, and, when in trouble as to how they should cross the Nile, a boat rowed
by a young man suddenly appeared, ferried them across, and vanished. During their
first night's halt they were miraculously transported, while asleep, to France,
and in the morning discovered from a shepherd that they were close to the Knights'
Castle in Picardy. The Blessed Virgin indicated, by the sudden heaviness of her
image in Ismeria's arms, where it pleased her that the new church in her honour
should be built. Ismeria, in obedience to Our Lady's commands, was baptized,
and took the name of Mary ; and after living for a short time with the mother
of the Knights died, and was buried in the Church of Our Lady of Liesse.
A chapel in honour of Our Lady of Liesse, where the boatmen hear Mass in the morning, stands to-day by the waters of the Grand Harbour.
The Maltese tongue fell for a long time into disuse as a written language,
through the loss of a distinctive and fixed alphabet to express the sounds of
the words, the result being that little of the extensive folklore and legend
has been written down. Hookam Frere, who during his long residence in Malta devoted
himself to the study of his favourite Greek authors and taught himself Hebrew
and Maltese, seems to have advocated the use of Arabic characters. As a great
classical scholar, he saw the value and possibilities of the Maltese language,
and he continually urged the University authorities who even to-day seem to neglect
their own tongue in favour of Italian to raise Maltese to the dignity of a literary
subject in their curriculum, and so to provide the young Maltese with 'a key
to many locks.' ' Those who continue to pursue their studies,' wrote Frere, '
will possess an advantage peculiar to themselves in entering upon a vast field
of literature, hitherto very imperfectly explored, in those languages which are
cognate dialects of the native Maltese the Hebrew, Arabic, Syriac, and Ethiopic.
In all of these the University of Malta might obtain a decided pre-eminence over
the other Universities and learned bodies in Europe.' Frere also pointed out
with a prophetic vision of the East becoming ' a land of promise ' the commercial
possibilities of Maltese. ' The Maltese language may be usefully employed if
written in the Arabic characters. The native language of Malta is an Oriental
dialect, intimately connected with Arabic, Hebrew, and Syriac. With respect to
the first, the fact is notorious that a Maltese finds no difficulty in making
himself understood anywhere in the coasts of Africa and Asia a circumstance which
is of no small convenience in commercial intercourse, and which might be improved
to great advantage in that respect. ... It is obvious that the inhabitants [of
Malta] could possess great advantages if a change of circumstances, re-animating
commerce and directing it to Africa and the Levant, should enable them to develop
again the commercial industry which they exhibited not long ago in the northern
and western coasts of the Mediterranean.' So wrote Frere in the ' forties ' of
the last century, but the Italian Language Question seems to have placed in the
background the really more important question of the proper footing of Maltese.
If Frere's advice had been taken, the University of Malta might have by this
time become a great imperial, if not international, centre for the study of Eastern
languages. However, such able Maltese professors as Dr. M. Mizzi and Signor Preca
have revived in their recent writings an interest in the scientific study of
their native tongue. Since Frere's time, too, Maltese has been both grammatically
taught and written in all the Government schools, and so it is not too late to
hope that all that is traditional in Maltese literature may be saved from the
wreck of time.
Here is an interesting note upon the Maltese language by Louis de Boisgelin:
' Corrupt as is the Maltese patois, it is, notwithstanding, extremely pleasing, and, like all other Eastern languages, is full of metaphors, proverbs, and animated expressions. These render it peculiarly fit for poetry, the taste for which the Maltese imbibed from the Greeks, and afterwards from the Arabs, whose style of Eastern poetry, together with the moral which formed its principal ornament, they more particularly adopted. They sang their own compositions, accompanying themselves on a kind of instrument resembling a violin or lyre.'
The following translations of two ancient Maltese sonnets were also made by Boisgelin:
1. 'He who too far indulges hope will find how soon hope fails; He's like
a seaman bottling wind In hope to fill his sails.'
2. 'Thou who by sad experience know'st how sure Love's arrows fly, Say, what's
the smart, for well I know What thou hast felt, feel!'
The translator tells us that he had compiled a Maltese grammar, to which he had added several native dialogues, songs, and tales, but unfortunately the French took the manuscript away with them in 1798. He also records that one of the Brethren of the Order (the Bailiff de Neven) became so conversant with the language 'that if any Maltese spoke to him he immediately knew the casal he inhabited ; for, though the villages were very near each other, there was a slight difference in the pronunciation between them all, and this was likewise the case in Gozo.'
Boisgelin was a Knight of Malta, who fled to England at the French occupation,
and published in London in 1804 a perfectly monumental work upon Malta, dedicated,
by the way, to the British Navy, 'which,' as the Preface runs, 'has produced
so many celebrated heroes, whose brilliant exploits may be said to rival even
those of ancient chivalry.' This was done no doubt with diplomatic intention,
for the Knights wanted naturally to re-occupy Malta, and England alone was strong
enough to transfer it to them if she so desired.
The Maltese still cling to many of their distinctive manners and customs, 'following blindly,' as a native writer eloquently puts it, 'in ancestral grooves, where the long memories of the ages stir darkly in the popular mind '; and while they yet do so it is to be hoped some systematic study may be made of these living links with far-distant systems of thought and beliefs. Whether the Maltese peasant, abandoning in the course of time the pageantry of his national customs, and speaking, perhaps, only the English tongue, will then be any the happier, it is idle to discuss. From the sentimental point of view we would rather see him remain as he is: living in thought in a world of his own weaving, and rarely going beyond the narrow limits of his little island ; for, if we believe the poet,
"Knowledge is sorrow ; they that know the most Must drink the deepest
of the bitter cup."
>>
Next - Some random impressions of Malta in 1910
