The Argosy — page 310: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

Letters from Majorca. 289 Some fresh feature for ever strikes one. A new court, not hitherto discovered, with beautiful pillars and fine arches, a dignified staircase and exquisitely-wrought ironwork. Distracting ecstasies ensue, play- ing havoc with the tenth Commandment, and almost persuading you to forget your “ Duty to your Neighbour,” which prohibits picking and stealing. This, perhaps, is not often ‘‘ broken in the keeping ” ; can we say as much for the other clauses in that long and difficult portion of the compilation, which caused our childhood more tears in the learning than I fear to the breaking our manhood has given sighs? Or perhaps a singular balcony, with wonderful ironwork of chaste design, not before noticed, suddenly arrests our gaze. Or the Gothic ornamentation of some old house; or a fine medizeval doorway ; ora church porch. standing open, and inviting one to enter and study form and symmetry in the attitude of a picturesque penitent. The shops, too, possess some interest, more on account of those who serve than of what they display. . Of bric-a-brac shops there are few left, and one of these few is kept by a policeman, who parades the town in uniform and stick, is as harmless but less noisy than the watchman, and has nothing to do. Here we have been lucky enough to meet with one of the old Palma lamps, of which I enclose you a sketch. It is quite a Mallorcan feature. Composed of brass, it has six burners, is classical in form, and has a screen which may be used as a reflector or a shade. These lamps burn oil, and the wicks are kept in order by a small pair of pincers hanging from a chain. Another chain bears an extinguisher. In Palma they use olive oil, because it is cheapest. The light is the loveliest, purest, whitest you can imagine. The first time we saw one we were going down a narrow street, and, in the gathering gloom, a woman crossed a courtyard holding this lighted lamp. Everything was so much in keeping that we were charmed. ‘The ancient vestibule, with its pillars and arches and ironwork ; the woman, with flowing garments, and mantilla hastily thrown upon her head ; this classical lamp: all harmonized as if they had been made for each other. A picture not to be found elsewhere; a chance effect, stamped vividly upon the imagination. Of course we immediately longed to be the possessors of one. For- tune favoured us. Our policeman, who has no prisoners to capture, had captured a lamp. Deeds of darkness failing him, he turns to those of light. They are ancient these lamps, and are not reproduced, as I am told. All these assertions I accept in faith. This lamp bears every evidence of age, and must be genuine. Besides that, I have too much confidence in the integrity of a Mallorcan policeman to doubt him for a moment. ‘The lamps are also of different sizes, and the smaller, with one or two burners, are almost more classical in form than those with five or six. They remind one of ancient Rome and the “ Last VOL. XLIII. U cConnicloooks (CO