Contremuit nemus, et sylvæ intonuere profundæ,Audiit et triviæ longe lacus——[7]Et trepidæ matres pressere ad pectora natus.
Contremuit nemus, et sylvæ intonuere profundæ,Audiit et triviæ longe lacus——[7]Et trepidæ matres pressere ad pectora natus.
Contremuit nemus, et sylvæ intonuere profundæ,Audiit et triviæ longe lacus——[7]Et trepidæ matres pressere ad pectora natus.
Contremuit nemus, et sylvæ intonuere profundæ,
Audiit et triviæ longe lacus——[7]
Et trepidæ matres pressere ad pectora natus.
We returned by Gensano, Marino, La Riccia, and Castel Gondolfo. All the villages and villas I have named communicate with each other by fine walks and avenues of lofty trees, whose interminglingbranches form a continued shade for the traveller. Castel Gondolfo is a little village near the lake Albano, on one extremity of which is a castle, belonging to his Holiness, from which the village takes its name; there is nothing remarkably fine in this villa, except its situation. Near the village of Castel Gondolfo, is the villa Barbarini, within the gardens of which are the ruins of an immense palace, built by the Emperor Domitian. There is a charming walk, about a mile in length, along the side of the lake from Castel Gondolfo to the town of Albano. The lake of Albano is an oval piece of water of about seven or eight miles circumference, whose margin is finely adorned with groves and trees of various verdure, beautifully reflected from the transparent bosom of the lake; and which, with the surrounding hills, and the Castel Gondolfo which crowns one of them, has a fine picturesque effect.
The grand scale on which the beauties of nature appear in Switzerland and the Alps, has been considered by some, as too vast for the pencil; but among the sweet hills and vallies of Italy, her features are brought nearer the eye, are fully seen and understood, and appear in all the bloom of rural loveliness. Tivoli, Albano, and Frescati, therefore, are the favourite abodes of the landscape-painters who travel to this country for improvement; and in the opinion of some, those delightful villages furnish studies better suited to the powers of their art, than even Switzerland itself. Nothing can surpass the admirable assemblage of hills, meadows, lakes, cascades, gardens, ruins, groves, and terraces, which charm the eye, as you wander among the shades of Frescati and Albano, which appear in new beauty as they are viewed from different points, and captivate the beholder with endless variety. One reflection obtrudes itself on the mind, and disturbs the satisfaction which such pleasingscenes would otherwise produce; it arises from beholding the poverty of infinitely the greater part of the inhabitants of those villages—Not that they seem miserable or discontented—a few roasted chesnuts, and some bunches of grapes, which they may have for a penny, will maintain them; but the easier they are satisfied, and the less repining they are, the more earnestly do we wish that they were better provided for. Good heavens! why should so much be heaped on a few, whom profusion cannot satisfy; while a bare competency is withheld from multitudes, whom penury cannot render discontented?
The most commanding view is from the garden of a convent of Capucins, at no great distance from Albano. Directly before you is the lake, with the mountains and woods which surround it, and the castle of Gondolfo; on one hand is Frescati with all its villas; on the other,the towns of Albano, La Riccia, and Gensano; beyond these you have an uninterrupted view of the Campagna, with St. Peter’s church and the city of Rome in the middle; the whole prospect being bounded by the hills of Tivoli, the Apennines, and the Mediterranean.
While we contemplated all these objects with pleasure and admiration, an English gentleman of the party said to Mr. B——, “There is not a prospect equal to this in all France or Germany, and not any superior even in England.” “That I well believe,” replied the Caledonian; “but if I had you in Scotland, I could shew you several with which this is by no means to be compared.” “Indeed! Pray in what part of Scotland are they to be seen?” “I presume you never was at the castle of Edinburgh, Sir?” “Never.” “Or at Stirling?” “Never.” “Did you ever see Loch Lomond, Sir?” “I never did.” “I suppose I need notask, whether you have ever been in Aberdeenshire, or the Highlands, or—” “I must confess once for all,” interrupted the Englishman, “that I have the misfortune never to have seen any part of Scotland.” “Then I am not surprised,” said the Scot, taking a large pinch of snuff, “that you think this the finest view you ever saw.” “I presume you think those in Scotland a great deal finer?” “A very great deal indeed, Sir; why that lake, for example, is a pretty thing enough; I dare swear, many an English nobleman would give a good deal to have such another before his house; but Loch Lomond is thirty miles in length, Sir! there are above twenty islands in it, Sir! that is a lake for you. As for their desert of a Campagna, as they call it, no man who has eyes in his head, Sir, will compare it to the fertile valley of Stirling, with the Forth, the most beautiful river in Europe, twining throughit.” “Do you really in your conscience imagine,” said the Englishman, “that the Forth is a finer river than the Thames?” “The Thames!” exclaimed the North Briton, “Why, my dear Sir, the Thames at London is a mere gutter, in comparison of the Firth of Forth at Edinburgh.” “I suppose then,” said the Englishman, recovering himself, “you do not approve of the view from Windsor Castle?” “I ask your pardon,” replied the other; “I approve of it very much; it is an exceeding pretty kind of a prospect; the country appears from it as agreeable to the sight as any plain flat country, crowded with trees, and intersected by enclosures, can well do; but I own I am of opinion, that mere fertile fields, woods, rivers, and meadows, can never, of themselves, perfectly satisfy the eye.” “You imagine, no doubt,” said the Englishman, “that a few heath-covered mountains and rocks embellisha country very much?” “I am precisely of that opinion,” said the Scot; “and you will as soon convince me that a woman may be completely beautiful with fine eyes, good teeth, and a fair complexion, though she should not have anoseon her face, as that a landscape, or country, can be completely beautiful without a mountain.” “Well, but here are mountains enough,” resumed the other; “look around you.” “Mountains!” cried the Caledonian, “very pretty mountains, truly! They call that Castel Gondolfo of theirs a castle too, and a palace, forsooth! but does that make it a residence fit for a Prince?” “Why, upon my word, I do not think it much amiss,” said the other; “it looks full as well as the palace of St. James’s.” “The palace of St. James’s,” exclaimed the Scot, “is a scandal to the nation; it is both a shame and a sin, that so great a monarch as the King of Scotland, England,and Ireland, with his Royal consort, and their large family of small children, should live in a shabby old cloister, hardly good enough for monks. The palace of Holyrood-house, indeed, is a residence meet for a king.” “And the gardens; pray what sort of gardens have you belonging to that palace?” said the Englishman; “I have been told you do not excel in those.” “But we excel in gardeners,” replied the other, “which are as much preferable as the creator is preferable to the created.” “I am surprised, however,” rejoined the South Briton, “that, in a country like yours, where there are so many creators, so very few fruit-gardens are created.” “Why, Sir, it is not to be expected,” said Mr. B——, “that anyone country will excel in every thing. Some enjoy a climate more favourable for peaches, and vines, and nectarines; but, by G—, Sir, no country on earth produces better men and women than Scotland.” “I dare say none does,” repliedthe other. “So as France excels in wines, England in wool and oxen, Arabia in horses, and other countries in other animals, you imagine Scotland excels all others in the human species.” “What I said, Sir, was, that the human species in no country excel those in Scotland; and that I assert again, and will maintain, Sir, to my last gasp.” “I do not intend to deny it,” said the Englishman; “but you will permit me to observe, that, men being its staple commodity, it must be owned that Scotland carries on a brisk trade; for I know no country that has a greaterexportation; you will find Scotchmen in all the countries of the world.” “So much the better for all the countries of the world,” said Mr. B——; “for every body knows that the Scotch cultivate and improve the arts and sciences wherever they go.” “They certainly improve their own fortunes wherever they go,” rejoined the other;—“like their gardeners, though theycan create little or nothing at home, they often create very good fortunes in other countries; and this is one reason of our having the pleasure of so much of their company in London.” “Whether it affords you pleasure or not, Sir, nothing can be more certain,” replied the Scot in the most serious tone, “than that you mayimprovevery much by their company and example. But there are various reasons,” continued he, “for so many of my countrymen sojourning in London. That city is now, in some measure, the capital of Scotland as well as of England. The seat of government is there; the King of Scotland, as well as of England, resides there; the Scotch nobility and gentry have as good a right to be near the person of their Sovereign as the English; and you must allow, that, if some Scotchmen make fortunes in England, many of our best estates are also spent there. But you mean to say, that the Scotch,in general, are poor in comparison of the English. This we do not deny, and cannot possibly forget, your countrymen refresh our memories with it so often. We allow, therefore, that you have this advantage over us;—and the Persians had the same over the Macedonians at the battle of Arbela. But, whether Scotland be poor or rich, those Scots who settle in England must carry industry, talents, or wealth with them, otherwise they will starve there as well as elsewhere; and when one country draws citizens of this description from another, I leave you to judge which has the most reason to complain. And let me tell you, Sir, upon the whole, the advantages which England derives from the Union, are manifest and manifold.” “I cannot say,” replied the Englishman, “that I have thought much on this subject; but I shall be obliged to you if you will enumerate a few of them.” “In the first place,” resumedthe Scot, “Has she not greatly increased in wealth since that time?” “She has so,” replied the other, smiling, “and I never knew thereal causebefore.” “In the next place, Has she not acquired a million and a half of subjects, who otherwise would have been with her enemies? For this,and other reasons, they are equivalent to three millions. In the third place, Has she not acquired security? without which riches are of no value. There is no door opennow, Sir, by which the French can enter into your country. They dare as soon be d—— as attempt to invade Scotland; so if you can defend your own coast, there is no fear of you; but without a perfect union with Scotland, England could not enjoy the principal benefit she derives from her insular situation.” “Not till Scotland should be subdued,” said the Englishman. “Subdued!” repeated the astonished Scot; “let me tell you, Sir,thatis a very strange hypothesis; the fruitlessattempts of many centuries might have taught you that the thing is impossible; and, if you are conversant in history, you will find, that, after the decline of the Roman Empire, the course of conquest was fromthe North to the South.” “You mean,” said the South Briton, “that Scotland would have conquered England.” “Sir,” replied the other, “I think the English as brave a nation as ever existed, and therefore I will not say that the Scotch are braver; far less shall I assert, thatthey, consisting of only a fifth part of the numbers, could subdue the English; but I am sure, that rather than submit they would try; and you will admit that the trial would be no advantage to either country.” “Although I am fully convinced,” said the Englishman, “how the experiment would end, I should be sorry to see it made, particularly at this time.” “Yet, Sir,” rejoined the Scot, “there are people of your country, as I am told,who, even atthis time, endeavour to exasperate the minds of the inhabitants of one part of Great Britain against the natives of the other, and to create dissension between two countries, whose mutual safety depends on their good agreement; two countries whom Nature herself, by separating them from the rest of the world, and encircling them with her azure bond of union, seems to have intended for one.” “I do assure you, my good Sir,” said the English Gentleman, “I am not of the number of those who wish to raise such dissension. I love the Scotch; I always thought them a sensible and gallant people; and some of the most valued friends I have on earth, are of your country.” “You are a man of honour and discernment,” said the Caledonian, seizing him eagerly by the hand; “and I protest, without prejudice or partiality, that I never knew a man of that character who was not of your way of thinking.”
[7]The intervening words are cold, and not much connected with the fine line which concludes the quotation.
[7]The intervening words are cold, and not much connected with the fine line which concludes the quotation.
[7]The intervening words are cold, and not much connected with the fine line which concludes the quotation.
Florence.
We arrived in this city the third day after leaving Rome, though I have delayed writing till now. I wished to know something of the place, and to be a little acquainted with the people. The last is not difficult; because the Florentines are naturally affable, and the hospitality and politeness of the British Minister afford his countrymen frequent opportunities of forming an acquaintance with the best company in Florence. This gentleman has been here about thirty years, and is greatly esteemed by the Florentines. It is probably owing to this circumstance, and to the magnificent stile in which some English Noblemen live, who have long resided here, that the English, in general, are favourites with the inhabitants of this place. L——d C——r’sconduct and disposition confirm them in the opinion they long have had of the good-nature and integrity of the nation to which he belongs. His Lady is of an amiable character, and affords them a very favourable specimen of English beauty.
We have had no opportunity of seeing the Grand Duchess. She is of a domestic turn, and lives much in the country with her children, of which she has a comfortable number; but the Grand Duke having come to town for two days, we had the honour of being presented to him at the Palazzo Pitti. There is a striking resemblance of each other in all the branches of the Austrian family. Wherever I had met with the Grand Duke, I should immediately have known that he belonged to it. He, as well his brother who resides at Milan, has, in a remarkable degree, the thick lip; which has long been a distinguishing feature in the Austrian family. He is a handsome man, is rapid in his words and motions, and has more vivacity in his mannerthan either the Emperor or Archduke; like them, he is good-humoured, condescending and affable. After the extinction of the Medici family, the Florentines grumbled on account of the disadvantage and inconveniency of having Sovereigns who did not reside among them. They exclaimed that their money was carried away to a distant country, and the most profitable offices at home filled by foreigners. They have now got a Sovereign who resides and spends his revenue among them, and has provided the State most plentifully in heirs; yet they still grumble. They complain of the taxes—But in what country of Europe is there not the same complaint?
Florence is, unquestionably, a very beautiful city. Independent of the churches and palaces, some of which are very magnificent, the architecture of the houses in general is in a good taste, the streets are remarkably clean, and paved with large broad stones, chiseled so as to prevent thehorses from sliding. This city is divided into two unequal parts by the river Arno, over which there are no less than four bridges in sight of each other. That called the Ponte della Trinità, is uncommonly elegant. It is built entirely of white marble, and ornamented with four beautiful statues, representing the Four Seasons. The quays, the buildings on each side, and the bridges, render that part of Florence through which the river runs, by far the finest. The same is the case at Paris; and it happens fortunately for those two cities, that those parts are almost constantly before the eye, on account of the necessity people are continually under of passing and repassing those bridges; whereas in London, whose river and bridges are far superior to any in France or Italy, people may live whole seasons, attend all the public amusements, and drive every day from one end of the town to the other, without ever seeing the Thames or the bridges, unless they go on purpose. For this reason,when a foreigner is asked which he thinks the finest city, Paris or London; the moment Paris is mentioned, the Louvre, and that striking part which is situated between the Pont Royal and Pont Neuf, presents itself to his imagination. He can recollect no part of London equal in magnificence to this; and ten to one, if he decides directly, it will be in favour of Paris: but if he takes a little more time, and compares the two capitals, street by street, square by square, and bridge with bridge, he will probably be of a different opinion. The number of inhabitants in Florence is calculated by some at eighty thousand. The streets, squares, and fronts of the palaces are adorned with a great number of statues; some of them by the best modern masters, Michael Angelo, Bandinelli, Donatello, Giovanni di Bologna, Benvenuto, Cellini, and others. A taste for the arts must be kept alive, independent almost of any other encouragement, in a city where so many specimens are continually beforethe eyes of the inhabitants. There are towns in Europe, where statues, exposed night and day within the reach of the common people, would run a great risque of being disfigured and mutilated; here they are as safe as if they were shut up in the Great Duke’s gallery.
Florence has been equally distinguished by a spirit for commerce and for the fine arts; two things which are not always united. Some of the Florentine merchants formerly were men of vast wealth, and lived in a most magnificent manner. One of them, about the middle of the fifteenth century, built that noble fabric, which, from the name of its founder, is still called the Palazzo Pitti. The man was ruined by the prodigious expence of this building, which was immediately purchased by the Medici family, and has continued, ever since, to be the residence of the Sovereigns. The gardens belonging to this palace are on the declivity of an eminence. On the summitthere is a kind of fort, called Belvedere. From this, and from some of the higher walks, you have a complete view of the city of Florence, and the beauteous vale of Arno, in the middle of which it stands. The prospect is bounded on every side by an amphitheatre of fertile hills, adorned with country-houses and gardens. In no part of Italy, that I have seen, are there so many villas, belonging to private persons, as in the neighbourhood of this city; the habitations of the peasants, likewise, seem much more neat and commodious. The country all around is divided into small farms, with a neat farm-house on each. Tuscany produces a considerable quantity of corn, as well as excellent wine, and great quantities of silk. The peasants have a look of health and contentment: the natural beauty of the Italian countenance not being disgraced by dirt, or deformed by misery, the women in this country seem handsomer, and are, in reality, more blooming, than in other parts of Italy.When at work, or when they bring their goods to market, their hair is confined by a silk net, which is also much worn at Naples; but on holidays they dress in a very picturesque manner. They do not wear gowns, but a kind of jacket without sleeves. They have no other covering for the upper part of the arm but their shift sleeves, which are tied with riband. Their petticoats are generally of a scarlet colour. They wear ear-rings and necklaces. Their hair is adjusted in a becoming manner, and adorned with flowers. Above one ear they fix a little straw hat; and on the whole have a more gay, smart, coquetish air, than any country-girls I ever saw.
Churches, and palaces, and statues, are no doubt ornamental to a city; and the Princes are praise-worthy who have taken pains to rear and collect them; but the greatest of all ornaments are cheerful, happy, living countenances. The taste is not general; but, I thank God, I know somepeople who, to a perfect knowledge and unaffected love of the fine arts, join a passion for a collection of this kind, who cannot, without uneasiness, see one face in a different style, and whose lives and fortunes are employed in smoothing the corrosions of penury and misfortune, andrestoringtheoriginalair of satisfaction and cheerfulness to the human countenance. Happy the people whose Sovereign is inspired with this species of virtù!
Florence.
I have generally, since our arrival at Florence, passed two hours every forenoon in the famous gallery. Connoisseurs, and those who wish to be thought such, remain much longer. But I plainly feel this is enough for me; and I do not think it worth while to prolong my visit after I begin to be tired, merely to be thought what I am not. Do not imagine, however, that I am blind to the beauties of this celebrated collection; by far the most valuable now in the world.
One of the most interesting parts of it, in the eyes of many, is the series of Roman Emperors, from Julius Cæsar to Gallienus, with a considerable number of their Empresses, arranged opposite to them. This series is almost complete; but wherever thebust of an Emperor is wanting, the place is filled up by that of some other distinguished Roman. Such an honour is bestowed with great propriety on Seneca, Cicero, or Agrippa, the son-in-law of Augustus. But, on perceiving a head of Antinous, the favourite of Adrian, among them, a gentleman whispered me,—thatminion, pointing to the head, would not have been admitted into such company any where but in Florence. It ought, however, to be remembered, that the Gallery is not an Ægyptian court of judicature, where Princes are tried, after death, for crimes committed during their life. If the vices of originals had excluded their portraits, what would have become of the series of Roman Emperors, and particularly of the bust of the great Julius himself, who was husband to all the wives and —— —— —— The gallery is sacred to art, and every production which she avows, has a right to a place here.
Amidst those noble specimens of ancient sculpture, some of the works of Michael Angelo are not thought undeserving a place. His Bacchus and Faunus, of which the well-known story is told, have been by some preferred to the two antique figures representing the same.
The beautiful head of Alexander is universally admired by all the virtuosi; though they differ in opinion with regard to the circumstance in which the sculptor has intended to represent that hero. Some imagine he is dying; Mr. Addison imagines he sighs for new worlds to conquer; others that he faints with pain and loss of blood from the wounds he received at Oxydrace. Others think the features express not bodily pain or languor, but sorrow and remorse, for having murdered his faithful friend Clitus. You see how very uncertain a business this of a virtuoso is. I can hardly believe that the artist intended simply to represent him dying; there was nothingvery creditable in the manner he brought on his death. Nor do I think he would choose to represent him moaning, or languishing with pain or sickness; there is nothing heroic in that; nor do we sympathise so readily with the pains of the body, as with those of the mind. As for the story of his weeping for new worlds, he will excite still less sympathy, if that is the cause of his affliction. The last conjecture, therefore, that the artist intended to represent him in a violent fit of remorse, is the most probable. The unfinished bust of Marcus Brutus, by Michael Angelo, admirably expresses the determined firmness of character which belonged to that virtuous Roman. The artist, while he wrought at this, seems to have had in his mind Horace’s Ode
Justum et tenacem propositi virumNon civium ardor prava jubentium,Non vultus instantis tyranniMente quatit solidâ, &c.
Justum et tenacem propositi virumNon civium ardor prava jubentium,Non vultus instantis tyranniMente quatit solidâ, &c.
Justum et tenacem propositi virumNon civium ardor prava jubentium,Non vultus instantis tyranniMente quatit solidâ, &c.
Justum et tenacem propositi virum
Non civium ardor prava jubentium,
Non vultus instantis tyranni
Mente quatit solidâ, &c.
This would, in my opinion, be a more suitable inscription for the bust, than the concetto of Cardinal Bembo, which is at present under it[8]. Michael Angelo, in all probability was pleased with the expression he had already given the features, and chose to leave it as an unfinished sketch, rather than risk weakening it by an attempt to improve it.
The virtuosi differ in opinion respecting the Arrotino, or Whetter, as much as about the head of Alexander. A young gentleman said to an antiquarian, while he contemplated the Arrotino, “I believe, Sir, it is imagined that this statue was intended for the slave, who, while he was whetting his knife, overheard Catiline’s conspiracy.”—“That is the vulgar opinion,” said the other; “but the statue was, in reality, done for a peasant, who discovered the plot into whichthe two sons of Junius Brutus entered for the restoration of Tarquin.” “I ask pardon, Sir,” said the young man; “but although one may easily see that the figure listens with the most exquisite expression of attention, yet I should think it very difficult to delineate in the features, whether the listener heard a conspiracy, or any thing else which greatly interested him, and absolutely impossible to mark, by any expression of countenance, what particular conspiracy he is hearing.” “Your observation is just, young man,” said the antiquarian, “when applied to modern artists, but entirely the reverse when applied to the ancient. Now, for my own part, I plainly perceive in that man’s countenance, and after you have studied those matters as profoundly as I have done you will see the same, that it is the conspiracy for the restoration of Tarquin, and no other plot whatever,which he listens to; as for Catiline’s conspiracy, it is not possible he could know any thing about it; for, good God! people ought to reflect, that the man must have been dead four hundred years before Catiline was born.”
As we are now in the famous octogonal room, called Tribuna, I ought, if I had any thing new to say, to descant a little on the distinguishing excellencies of the Dancing Faun, the Wrestlers, the Venus Urania, the Venus Victrix; and I would most willingly pay the poor tribute of my praise to that charming figure known by the name of Venus de Medicis. Yet, in the midst of all my admiration, I confess I do not think her equal to her brother Apollo in the Vatican. In that sublime figure, to the most perfect features and proportions, is joined an air which seems more than human. The Medicean Venus is unquestionably a perfect model of female beauty; but while Apollo appears more than aman, the Venus seems precisely a beautiful woman.
In the same room are many valuable curiosities, besides a collection of admirable pictures by the best masters. I do not know whether any are more excellent of their kind, but I am convinced none are more attentively considered than the two Venuses of Titian; one is said to be a portrait of his wife, the other of his mistress. The first is the fined portrait I ever saw, except the second; of this you have seen many copies: though none of them equals the beauty of the original, yet they will give a juster idea of it than any description of mine could. On the back ground, two women seem searching for something in a trunk. This episode is found much fault with; for my part, I see no great harm the two poor women do: none but those critics who search more eagerly afterdeformitythanbeauty, will take any notice of them.
Besides the Gallery and Tribuna, the hundredth part of whose treasures I have not particularised, there are other rooms, whose contents are indicated by the names they bear; as, the Cabinet of Arts, of Astronomy, of Natural History, of Medals, of Porcelain, of Antiquities, and the Saloon of the Hermaphrodite, so called from a statue which divides the admiration of the Amateurs with that in the Borghese village at Rome. The excellence of the execution is disgraced by the vileness of the subject. We are surprised how the Greeks and Romans could take pleasure in such unnatural figures; in this particular their taste seems to have been as depraved, as in general it was elegant and refined. In this room there is a collection of drawings by some of the greatest masters, Michael Angelo, Raphael, Andrea del Sarto, and others. There is, in particular, a sketch of the Last Judgment by the first-named of these painters, different, and, in the opinion of some, designedwith more judgment, than his famous picture on the same subject in Sixtus the Fourth’s chapel in the Vatican.
The large room, called the Gallery of Portraits, is not the least curious in this vast Musæum. It contains the portraits, all executed by themselves, of the most eminent painters who have flourished in Europe during the three last centuries. They amount to above two hundred; those of Rubens, Vandyke, Rembrandt, and Guido, were formerly the most esteemed; two have been added lately, which vie with the finest in this collection—those of Meng’s and Sir Joshua Reynolds. The portrait of Raphael seems to have been done when he was young; it is not equal to any of the above. The Electress Dowager of Saxony has made a valuable addition to this collection, by sending her own portrait painted by herself; she is at full length, with the palette and pencils in her hands. Coreggio, afterhearing the picture of St. Cecilia at Bologna cried up as a prodigy, and thene plus ultraof art, went to see it; and conscious that there was nothing in it that required the exertion of greater powers than he felt within himself, he was overheard to say, “Anch’ io sono pittore.” This illustrious princess was also conscious of her powers when she painted this portrait, which seems to pronounce to the spectators,Anch’ io sono pittrice.
[8]Dum Bruti effigiem Michael de marmore fingit,In mentem sceleris venit, et abstinuit.
[8]Dum Bruti effigiem Michael de marmore fingit,In mentem sceleris venit, et abstinuit.
[8]
Dum Bruti effigiem Michael de marmore fingit,In mentem sceleris venit, et abstinuit.
Dum Bruti effigiem Michael de marmore fingit,In mentem sceleris venit, et abstinuit.
Dum Bruti effigiem Michael de marmore fingit,In mentem sceleris venit, et abstinuit.
Dum Bruti effigiem Michael de marmore fingit,
In mentem sceleris venit, et abstinuit.
Florence.
Having now crossed from the Adriatic to the Mediterranean, and travelled through a considerable part of Italy, I acknowledge I have been agreeably disappointed in finding the state of the poorer part of the inhabitants less wretched than, from the accounts of some travellers, I imagined it was; and I may with equal truth add, that although I have not seen so much poverty as I was taught to expect, yet I have seen far more poverty than misery. Even the extremity of indigence is accompanied with less wretchedness here than in many other countries. This is partly owing to the mildness of the climate and fertility of the soil, and partly to the peaceable, religious, and contented disposition of thepeople. The miseries which the poorer part of mankind suffer from cold, are, perhaps, greater than those derived from any other source whatever. But in Italy, the gentleness of the climate protects them from this calamity nine months of the year. If they can gather as much wood as to keep a moderate fire during the remaining three, and procure a coarse cloke, they have little to fear from that quarter. Those who cannot get employment, which is often the case in this country, and even those who do not choose to work, which is the case with numbers all the world over, receive a regular maintenance from some convent: with this, and what little they can pick up otherwise, in a country where provisions are plentiful and cheap, they pass through life, in their own opinion, with more satisfaction than if they had a greater number of conveniencies procured by much bodily labour. Whereas in Great Britain, Germany, and other northerncountries, the poor have no choice but to work; for if they remain idle, they are exposed to miseries more intolerable than the hardest labour can occasion to the laziest of mankind; they are invaded at once by the accumulated agonies of hunger and cold; and if they have ever had sufficient credit to contract a little debt, they are continually in danger of being thrown into a jail among pickpockets and felons. With respect to the lowest of the tradespeople and the day-labourers in this country, their wages are certainly not high; nor are they willing, by great efforts of industry, to gain all they might; but what they do gain is never wasted in intemperance, but fairly spent in their families on the real necessaries and comforts of life.
The Italians are the greatest loungers in the world, and while walking in the fields, or stretched in the shade, seem to enjoy the serenity and genial warmth oftheir climate with a degree of luxurious indulgence peculiar to themselves. Without ever running into the daring excesses of the English, or displaying the frisky vivacity of the French, or the invincible phlegm of the Germans, the Italian populace discover a species of sedate sensibility to every source of enjoyment, from which, perhaps, they derive a greater degree of happiness than any of the other. The frequent processions and religious ceremonies, besides amusing and comforting them, serve to fill up their time, and prevent that ennui and those immoral practices which are apt to accompany poverty and idleness. It is necessary, for the quiet and happiness of every community, that the populace be employed. Some politicians imagine, that their whole time should be spent in gainful industry. Others think, that though the riches of the state will not be augmented, yet the general happiness, which is a more importantobject, will be promoted by blending the occupations of industry with a considerable proportion of such superstitious ceremonies as awaken the future hopes, without lulling the present benevolence, of the multitude; but nobody can doubt, that in countries where, from whatever cause, industry does not prevail, processions and other rites of the same nature will tend to restrain the populace from the vices, and of consequence prevent some of the miseries of idleness.
The peasantry of this country are unquestionably in a more comfortless state than a benevolent mind could wish them. But, England and Switzerland excepted, is not this the case all over Europe? In all the countries I have seen, or had an account of, the husbandmen, probably the most virtuous, but certainly the most useful part of the community, whose labour and industry maintain all the rest, and in whom the real strength of the stateresides, are, by a most unjust dispensation, generally the poorest and most oppressed. But although the Italian peasantry are by no means in the affluent, independent situation of the peasantry of Switzerland, and the tenantry of England, yet they are not subjected to the same oppressions with those of Germany, nor are they so poor as those of France.
Great part of the lands in Italy belong to convents; and I have observed, and have been assured by those who have the best opportunities of knowing, that the tenants of these communities are happier, and live more at their ease, than those of a great part of the nobility. The revenues of convents are usually well managed, and never allowed to be squandered away by the folly or extravagance of any of its members; consequently the community is not driven, by craving and threatening creditors, as individuals frequently are, to squeeze out of their vassalsthe means of supplying the waste occasioned by their own vanity and expence. A convent can have no incitement to severe and oppressive exactions from the peasants, except sheer avarice; a passion which never rises to such a height in a society where the revenue is in common, as in the breast of an individual, who is solely to reap the fruits of his own oppression.
The stories which circulate in Protestant countries, concerning the scandalous debauchery of monks, and the luxurious manner in which they live in their convents, whatever truth there may have been in them formerly, are certainly now in a great measure without foundation. I remember when I was at the Grande Chartreuse, near Grenoble, which has a considerable district of land belonging to it, I was informed, and this information was confirmed by what I saw, that those monks were gentle and generous masters, and that their tenants were envied by all the peasantryaround, on account of the treatment they received, and the comparatively easy terms on which they held their farms. From the enquiries I have made in France, Germany, and Italy, I am convinced that this is usually the case with those peasants who belong to convent lands; and very often, I have been informed, besides having easy rents, they also find affectionate friends and protectors in their masters, who visit them in sickness, comfort them in all distresses, and are of service to their families in various shapes.
I have been speaking hitherto of the peasantry belonging to convents; but I believe I might extend the remark to the tenants of ecclesiastics in general, though they are often represented as more proud and oppressive masters than any class of men whatever; an aspersion which may have gained credit the more easily on this account, that instances of cruelty and oppression in ecclesiastics strike more, and raise a greaterindignation, than the same degree of wickedness in other men; they raise a greater indignation, because they are more unbecoming of clergymen, and they strike more when they do happen, because they happen seldomer. The ambition of Popes some centuries ago, when the Court of Rome was in its zenith, the unlimited influence and power which particular Churchmen acquired in England and France, had those effects upon their actions and characters, which ambition and power usually have on the characters of men; it rendered them insolent, unfeeling, and persecuting. Yet, for every cruel and tyrannical Pope that history has recorded, it will be easy to name two or three Roman Emperors who have surpassed them in every species of wickedness; and England and France have had Prime Ministers with all the vices, without the abilities, of Wolsey and Richelieu.
Those who declaim against the wickedness of the clergy, seem to take it forgranted that this body of men were the authors of the most horrid instances of persecution, massacre, and tyranny, over men’s consciences, that are recorded in the annals of mankind; yet Philip II., Charles IX. and Henry VIII. were not Churchmen; and the capricious tyranny of Henry, the frantic fury of Charles, and the persevering cruelty of Philip, seem to have proceeded from the personal characters of these Monarchs, or to have been excited by what they considered as their political interest, rather than by the suggestions of their Clergy.
As the subjects of the Ecclesiastical State are perhaps the poorest in Italy, this has been imputed to the rapacious disposition which some assert is natural to Churchmen. This poverty, however, may be otherwise accounted for. Bishop Burnet very judiciously observes, that the subjects of a government, which is at once despotic and elective, labour under peculiar disadvantages;for an hereditary Prince will naturally have considerations for his people which an elective one will not, “unless he has a degree of generosity not common among men, and least of all among Italians, who have a passion for their families which is not known in other places[9].” An elective Prince, knowing that it is only during his reign that his family can receive any benefit from it, makes all the haste he can to enrich them. To this it may be added, that as Popes generally arrive at Sovereignty at an age when avarice predominates in the human breast, they may be supposed to have a stronger bias than other Princes to that sordid passion; and even when this does not take place, their needy relations are continually prompting them to acts of oppression, and suggesting ways and means of squeezing the people. Other causes might be assigned; but, that it does not originate from the imputation above mentioned,seems evident from this, that the peasants of particular ecclesiastics, and of the convents in the Pope’s dominions, as well as in other countries, are generally less oppressed than those of the lay lords and princes.
From what has been thrown out by some celebrated wits, and the common-place invective of those who affect that character, one would be led to imagine that there is something in the nature of the clerical profession which has a tendency to render men proud and oppressive. Such indiscriminating censure carries no conviction to my mind, because it is contradicted by the experience I have had in life, and by the observations, such as they are, which I have been able to make on human nature. I do not mean, in imitation of the satirists above mentioned, to put the Clergy of all religions on the same footing. My opportunities of knowledge are too slender to justifythat; my acquaintancewith this order of men having been in a great measure confined to those of the Protestant Church, men of learning and ingenuity, of quiet, speculative, and benevolent dispositions; it is usually, indeed, this turn of mind which has inclined them to the ecclesiastical profession. But though my acquaintance with the Roman Catholic Clergy is very limited, yet the few I do know could not be mentioned as exceptions to what I have just said of the Protestant; and, exclusive of all personal knowledge of the men, it is natural to think that the habitual performance of the ceremonies of the Christian religion, though intermingled with some superstitious rites, and the preaching the doctrines of benevolence and good-will towards men, must have some influence on the lives and characters of those who are thus employed. It is a common error, prevailing in Protestant countries, to imagine that the Roman Catholic Clergy laugh at the religion they inculcate, and regard their flocks as the dupes of an artful planof imposition. By far the greater part of Roman Catholic priests and monks are themselves most sincere believers, and teach the doctrines of Christianity, and all the miracles of the legend, with a perfect conviction of their divinity and truth. The few who were behind the curtain when falsehood was first embroidered upon truth, and those who have at different periods been the authors of all the masks and interludes which have enriched the grand drama of superstition, have always chosen to employ such men, being sensible that the inferior actors would perform their parts more perfectly, by acting from nature and real conviction. “Paulum interesse censes,” says Davus to Mysis, “ex animo omnia ut fert natura, facias an de industria[10].”
The accounts we receive of their gluttony, are often as ill-founded as those of their infidelity. The real character of the majority of monks and inferior ecclesiastics,both in France and Italy, is that of a simple, superstitious, well-meaning race of men, who for the most part live in a very abstemious and mortified manner, notwithstanding what we have heard of their gluttony, their luxury, and voluptuousness. Such accusations are frequently thrown out by those who are ill entitled to make them. I remember being in company with an acquaintance of yours, who is distinguished for the delicacy of his table and the length of his repasts, from which he seldom retires without a bottle of Burgundy for his own share, not to mention two or three glasses of Champaign between the courses. We had dined a few miles from the town in which we then lived, and were returning in his chariot; it was winter, and he was wrapped in fur to the nose. As we drove along, we met two friars walking through the snow; little threads of icicles hung from their beards; their legs and the upper part of their feet were bare, but their soles were defended from the snow by woodensandals. “There goes a couple of dainty rogues,” cried your friend as we drew near them; “only think of the folly of permitting such lazy, luxurious rascals to live in a State, and eat up the portion of the poor. I will engage that those two scoundrels, as lean and mortified as they look, will devour more victuals in a day, than would maintain two industrious families.” He continued railing against the luxury of those two friars, and afterwards expatiated upon the epicurism of the clergy in general; who, he said, were all alike in every country, and of every religion. When we arrived in town, he told me he had ordered a little nice supper to be got ready at his house by the time of our return, and had lately got some excellent wine, inviting me at the same time to go home with him; for, continued he, aswe have driventhree miles in such weather,we stand in great needof some refreshment.
That in all Roman Catholic countries, and particularly in Italy, the clergy are toonumerous, have too much power, too great a proportion of the lands, and that some of them live in great pomp and luxury, is undeniable. That the common people would be in a better situation, if manufactures and the spirit of industry could be introduced among them, is equally true; but, even as things are, I cannot help thinking that the state of the Italian peasantry is preferable, in many respects, to that of the peasants of many other countries in Europe. They are not beaten by their ecclesiastical lords, as those of Germany are by their masters, on every real or imaginary offence. They have not their children torn from them, to be sacrificed to the pomp, avarice, or ambition of some military despot; nor are they themselves pressed into the service as soldiers for life.
In England and in France the people take an interest in all national disputes, and consider the cause of their country or their Prince as their own; they enter into theservice voluntarily, and fight with ardour for the glory of the country or King they love. Those ideas enable them to submit to a thousand hardships without repining, and they feel the sensations of happiness in the midst of toil, want, and danger. But in Germany, where the passions are annihilated, and a man is modelled into a machine before he is thought a good soldier, where his blood is sold by the Prince to the highest bidder, where he has no quarrel with the enemy he murders, and no allegiance to the Monarch for whom he fights, the being liable to be forced into such a service, is one of the most dreadful of all calamities. Yet a regiment of such compelled soldiers, dressed in gaudy uniform, and powdered for a review, with music sounding and colours flying, makes a far more brilliant appearance than a cluster of peasants with their wives and children upon a holiday. But if we could examine the breasts of the individuals, we should find in those of the former nothing but the terrorof punishment, hatred of their officers, distrust of each other, and life itself supported only by the hope of desertion; while the bosoms of the latter are filled with all the affections of humanity, undisturbed by fear or remorse.