"If it be thus, SHAKSP. Macbeth. "Jallal à Vevay loger à la Clef, et pendant | Had I not filed my mind, which thus itself subdued. deux jours que j'y restai sans voir personne je [p. 36. St. 113. pris pour cette ville un amour qui m'a suivi dans tous mes voyages, et qui m'y a fait établir For Banquo's issue have I filed my mind." enfin les héros de mon roman. Je dirois olontiers à ceux qui ont du goût et qui sont sensibles allez à Vevay-visitez le pays, examinez les sites, promenez-vous sur le lac, et dites si la Nature n'a pas fait ce beau pays pour une Julie, pour une Claire et pour un St. Preas; mais ne les y cherchez pas." Les Confessions, livre IV. In July, 1816, I made a voyage round the Lake of Geneva; and, as far as my own observations have led me in a not uninterested nor inattentive survey of all the scenes most celebrated by Rousseau in his "Heloise," I can safely say, that in this there is no exaggeration. It would be difficult to see Clarens (with the scenes around it, Vevay, Chillon, Boveret, St. Gingo, Meillerie, Evian, and the entrances of the Rhone), without being forcibly struck with its peculiar adaptation to the persons and events with which it has been peopled. But this is not all; the feeling with which all around Clarens and the opposite rocks of Meillerie is invested is of a still higher and more comprehensive order than the mere sympathy with individual passion; it is a sense of the existence of love in its most extended and sublime capacity, and of our own participation of its good and of its glory: it is the great principle of the universe, which is there more condensed, but not less manifested; and of which, though knowing ourselves a part, we lose our individuality, and mingle in the beauty of the whole. If Rousseau had never written, nor lived, the same associations would not less have belonged to such scenes. He has added to the interest of his works by their adoption; he has shown his sense of their beauty by the selection; but they have done that for him which no human being could do for them. گا I had the fortune (good or evil as it might be) to sail from Meillerie (where we landed for some time) to St. Gingo during a lake storm, which added to the magnificence of all around, although occasionally accompanied by danger to the boat, which was small and overloaded. It was over this very part of the lake that Rousseau has driven the boat of St. Preux and Madame Wolmar to Meillerie for shelter during a tempest. On gaining the shore at St. Gingo, we found that the wind had been sufficiently strong to blow down some fine old chesnut-trees on the lower part of the mountains. On the opposite height is a seat called the Chateau de Clarens. The hills are covered with vineyards, and interspersed with some small but beautiful woods; one of these was named the "Bosquet de Julie," and it is remarkable that, though long ago cut down by the brutal selfishness of the monks of St. Bernard (to whom the land appertained), that the ground might be inclosed into a vineyard for the miserable drones of an execrable superstition, the inhabitants of Clarens still point out the spot where its trees stood, calling it by the name which consecrated and survived them. Rousseau has not been particularly fortunate in the preservation of the "local habitations" he has given to "airy nothings." The Prior of Great St. Bernard has cut down some of his woods for the sake of a few casks of wine, and Buonaparte has levelled part of the rocks of Meillerie in improving the road to the Simplon. The road is an excellent one, but I cannot quite agree with a remark which I heard made, that "La route vaut mieux que les souvenirs." Lausanne! and Ferney! ye have been the abodes. [p. 35. St. 105. Voltaire and Gibbon. O'er others' griefs that some sincerely grieve. [p. 36. St. 114. It is said by Rochefoucault that "there is always something in the misfortunes of men's best friends not displeasing to them." NOTES TO CANTO IV. I stood in Venice, on the Bridge of Sighs, A palace and a prison on each hand. [p. 38. St. 1. The communication between the Ducal palace and the prisons of Venice is by a gloomy bridge, or covered gallery, high above the water, and divided by a stone-wall into a passage and a cell. The state-dungeons, called "pozzi," or wells, were sunk in the thick walls of the palace; and the prisoner when taken out to die was conducted across the gallery to the other side, and being then led back into the other compartment, or cell, upon the bridge, was there strangled. The low portal through which the criminal was taken into this cell is now walled up; but the passage is still open, and is still known by the name of the Bridge of Sighs. The pozzi are under the flooring of the chamber at twelve, but on the first arrival of the French the foot of the bridge. They were formerly the Venetians hastily blocked or broke up the deeper of these dungeons. You may still, however, descend by a trap-door, and crawl down through holes, half choked by rubbish, to the depth of two stories below the first range. If of patrician power, perhaps you may find it there; you are in want of consolation for the extinction scarcely a ray of light glimmers into the narrow gallery which leads to the cells, and the places of confinement themselves are totally dark. A small hole in the wall admitted the damp air of the passages, and served for the introduction of the prisoner's food. A wooden pallet, raised a foot from the ground, was the only furniture. The conductors tell you that a light was not allowed. length, two and a half in width, and seven feet The cells are about five paces in in height. They are directly beneath one another, and respiration is somewhat difficult in the lower holes. Only one prisoner was found when the republicans descended into these hideous recesses, and he is said to have been confined sixteen had left traces of their repentance, or of their years. But the inmates of the dungeons beneath despair, which are still visible, and may perhaps detained appear to have offended against, and owe something to recent ingenuity. Some of the others to have belonged to, the sacred body, not only from their signatures, but from the churches and belfries which they have scratched upon the walls, The reader may not object to see a specimen of the records prompted by so terrific solitude. As nearly as they could be copied by more than one pencil, three of them are as follows: UN PARLAR POCHO ET UN PENSAR AL FINE PUO DARE LA VITA 1605. EGO IOHN BAPTISTA AD 3. DE CHI MI FIDO GUARDAMI DIO DE CHI NON MI PIDO MI GUARDABO 10 A V. LA STA Κ NA A . CH. The copyist has followed, not corrected the solecisms; some of which are, however, not quite Bo decided, since the letters were evidently scratched in the dark. It only needs to be observed, that Bestemmia and Mangiar may be read in the first inscription, which was probably written by a prisoner confined for some act of impiety committed at a funeral: that Cortellarius is the name of a parish on Terra Firma, near the sea: and that the last initials evidently are put for Viva la Santa Chiesa Kattolica Romana. She looks a sea-Cybele, fresh from ocean Rising, with her tiara of proud towers. [p. 38. St. 2. An old writer, describing the appearance of Venice, has made use of the above image, which would not be poetical were it not true. we arrived at the island. They gave us, amongst It does not appear that it is usual for the performers to row and sing at the same time. Although the verses of the Jerusalem are no longer casually heard, there is yet much music upon the Venetian canals; and upon holidays, those strangers who are not near or informed enough to distinguish the words, may fancy that many of the gondolas still resound with the strains of "Quo fit ut qui superne urbem contempletur, Tasso. The writer of some remarks which apturritam telluris imaginem medio Oceano figura peared in the Curiosities of Literature must extam se putet inspicere." Marci Antonii Sabellicuse his being twice quoted; for, with the exde Veneta Urbis situ narratio, edit. Taurin. 1527, lib. I. fol. 202. L'arme pietose de cantar gho vogia, E de Goffredo la immortal braura Missier Pluton no l' ha bu mai paura: Dio ha agiutà, e i compagni sparpagnai Tutti ghi ha messi insieme i dì del Dai. Some of the elder gondoliers will, however, take up and continue a stanza of their once familiar bard. On the 7th of last January, the author of Childe Harold, and another Englishman, the writer of this notice, rowed to the Lido with two singers, one of whom was a carpenter, and the other a gondolier. The former placed himself at the prow, the latter at the stern of the boat. A little after leaving the quay of the Piazzetta, they begau to sing, and continued their exercise until ception of some phrases a little too ambitions and extravagant, he has furnished a very exact, as well as agreeable, description. "In Venice the gondoliers know by heart long passages from Ariosto and Tasso, and often chant them with a peculiar melody. But this talent seems at present on the decline at least, after taking some pains, I could find no more than two persons who delivered to me in this way a passage from Tasso. I must add, that the late Mr. Berry once chanted to me a passage in Tasso in the manner, as he assured me, of the gondoliers. "There are always two concerned, who alternately sing the strophes. We know the melody eventually by Rousseau, to whose songs it is printed; it has properly no melodious movement; and is a sort of medium between the canto fermo and the canto figurato; it approaches to the former by recitativical declamation, and to the latter by passages and course, by which one syllable is detained and embellished. "I entered a gondola by moonlight; one singer placed himself forwards, and the other aft, and thus they proceeded to St. Georgio. One began the song: when he had ended his strophe, the other took up the lay, and so continued the song alternately. Throughout the whole of it, the same notes invariably returned, but, according to the subject matter of the strophe, they laid a greater or a smaller stress, sometimes on one, and sometimes on another note, and indeed changed the enunciation of the whole strophe as the object of the poem altered. "On the whole, however, the sounds were hoarse and screaming: they seemed, in the manner of all rude uncivilized men, to make the excellency of their singing in the force of their voice: one seemed desirous of conquering the other by the strength of his lungs; and so far from receiving delight from this scene (shut up as I was in the box of the gondola), I found myself in a very unpleasant situation. "My companion, to whom I communicated this circumstance, being very desirous to keep up the credit of his countrymen, assured me that this singing was very delightful when heard at a dis tance. Accordingly we got out upon the shore, leaving one of the singers in the gondola, while the other went to the distance of some hundred paces. They now began to sing against one another, and I kept walking up and down between them both, so as always to leave him who was to begin his part. I frequently stood still and hearkened to the one and to the other. "Here the scene was properly introduced. The strong declamatory, and, as it were, shrieking sound, met the ear from far, and called forth the attention; the quickly succeeding transitions, which necessarily required to be sung in a lower tone, seemed like plaintive strains succeeding the vociferations of emotion or of pain. The other, who listened attentively, immediately began where the former left off, answering him in milder or more vehement notes, according as the purport of the strophe required. The sleepy canals, the lofty buildings, the splendour of the moon, the deep shadows of the few gondolas, that moved like spirits hither and thither, increased the striking peculiarity of the scene; and amidst all these circumstances it was easy to confess the character of this wonderful harmony. "It suits perfectly well with an idle solitary mariner, lying at length in his vessel at rest on one of these canals, waiting for his company, or for a fare, the tiresomeness of which situation is somewhat alleviated by the songs and poetical stories he has in memory. He often raises his voice as loud as he can, which extends itself to a vast distance over the tranquil mirror, and as all is still around, he is, as it were, in a solitude in the midst of a large and populous town. Here is no rattling of carriages, no noise of footpassengers: a silent gondola glides now and then by him, of which the splashing of the oars are scarcely to be heard. "At a distance he hears another, perhaps utterly unknown to him. Melody and verse immediately attach the two strangers; he becomes the responsive echo to the former, and exerts himself to be heard as he had heard the other. By a tacit convention they alternate verso for verse; though the song should last the whole night through, they entertain themselves without fatigue; the hearers, who are passing between the two, take part in the amusement. "This vocal performance sounds best at a great distance, and is then inexpressibly charming, as it only fulfils its design in the sentiment of remoteness. It is plaintive, but not dismal in its sound, and at times it is scarcely possible to refrain from tears. My companion, who otherwise was not a very delicately organized person, said quite unexpectedly: "è singolare come quel canto intenerisce, e molto più quando lo cantano meglio." "I was told that the women of Libo, the long row of islands that divides the Adriatic from the Lagouns *), particularly the women of the extreme districts of Malamocca and Palestrina, sing in like manner the works of Tasso to these and similar tunes. "They have the custom, when their husbands are fishing out at sea, to sit along the shore in the evenings and vociferate these songs, and continue to do so with great violence, till each of them can distinguish the responses of her own husband at a distance." physician or a lawyer take his degree, or a cler- Exposition of the most Holy Sacrament in the church of St. Theatres. St. Moses, opera. St. Benedict, a comedy of characters When it is recollected what the Catholics be lieve their consecrated wafer to be, we may perhaps think it worthy of a more respectable niche than between poetry and the playhouse. Sparta hath many a worthier son than he. [p. 39. St. 10. The answer of the mother of Brasidas to the strangers who praised the memory of her son. St. Mark yet sees his lion where he stood Stand,[p. 39, St. 11. The lion hast lost nothing by his journey to the Invalides but the gospel which supported the paw that is now on a level with the other foot. The horses also are returned to the illchosen spot whence they set out, and are, as before, half hidden under the porch-window of St. Mark's church. Their history, after a desperate struggle, has been satisfactorily explored. The decisions and doubts of Erizzo and Zanetti, and lastly, of the Count Leopold Cicognara, would have given them a Roman extraction, and a pedigree not more ancient than the reign of Nero. But M. de Schlegel stepped in to teach the Venetians the value of their own treasures, and a Greek vindicated, at last and for ever, the pretension of his countrymen to this noble production. Mr. Mustoxidi has not been left without a reply; but, as yet, he has received no answer. It should seem that the horses are irrevocably Chian, and were transferred to Constantinople by Theodosius. Lapidary writing is a favourite play of the Italians, and has conferred reputation on more than one of their literary characters. One of the best specimens of Bodoni's typography is a The love of music and of poetry distinguishes all classes of Venetians, even amongst the tuneful sons of Italy. The city itself can occasion-respectable volume of inscriptions, all written ally furnish respectable audiences for two and even three opera-houses at a time; and there are few events in private life that do not call forth a printed and circulated sonnet. Does a by his friend Pacciaudi. Several were prepared for the recovered horses. It is to be hoped the best was not selected, when the following words were ranged in gold letters above the cathedral porch: QUATUOR EQUORUM SIGNA A VENETIS BYZANTIO САРТА AD TEMP. D. MAR. A. R. S. MCCIV POSITA QUE HOSTILIS CUPIDITAS A. MDCCCIII ABSTULERAT *) The writer meant Lido, which is not a long row of islands, but a long island: littus, FRANC. I. IMP. PACIS ORBI DATE TROPHĦUM A. the shore. MDCCCXV VICTOR REDUXIT. Nothing shall be said of the Latin, but it may be permitted to observe, that the injustice of the Venetians in transporting the horses from Constantinople was at least equal to that of the French in carrying them to Paris, and that it would have been more prudent to have avoided all allusions to either robbery. An apostolic prince should, perhaps, have objected to affixing over the principal entrance of a metropolitan church an inscription having a reference to any other triumphs than those of religion. Nothing less than the pacification of the world can excuse such a solecism. ed-"moved by the Holy Spirit, venerating the Almighty in the person of Alexander, laying aside his imperial dignity, and throwing off his mantle, he prostrated himself at full length at the feet of the Pope. Alexander, with tears in his eyes, raised him benignantly from the ground, kissed him, blessed him; and immediately the Germans of the train sang, with a loud voice, "We praise thee, O Lord." The Emperor then taking the Pope by the right hand, led him to the church, and having received his benediction, returned to the ducal palace." The ceremony of humiliation was repeated the next day. The Pope himself, at the request of Frederic, said The Suabian sued, and now the Austrian reigns- mass at Saint Mark's. The Emperor again laid An Emperor tramples where an Emperor knelt. aside his imperial mantle, and, taking a wand in (p. 39. St. 12. his hand, officiated as verger, driving the laity After many vain efforts on the part of the from the choir, and preceding the pontiff to the Italians entirely to throw off the yoke of Fre- altar. Alexander, after reciting the gospel, preachderic Barbarossa, and as fruitless attempts of the ed to the people. The Emperor put himself close Emperor to make himself absolute master through to the pulpit in the attitude of listening; and out the whole of his Cisalpine dominions, the the pontiff, touched by this mark of his attention, bloody struggles of four and twenty years were for he knew that Frederic did not understand happily brought to a close in the city of Venice. a word he said, commanded the patriarch of The articles of a treaty had been previously Aquileja to translate the Latin discourse into agreed upon between Pope Alexander III. and the German tongue. The creed was then chanted. Barbarossa, and the former having received a Frederic made his oblation and kissed the Pope's safe conduct, had already arrived at Venice from feet, and, mass being over, led him by the Ferrara, in company with the ambassadors of hand to his white horse. He held the stirrup, the king of Sicily and the consuls of the Lom- and would have led the horse's rein to the waterbard league. There still remained, however, side, had not the Pope accepted of the inclination many points to adjust, and for several days the for the performance, and affectionately dismissed peace was believed to be impracticable. At this him with his benediction. Such is the substance juncture it was suddenly reported that the Em- of the account left by the archbishop of Salerno, peror had arrived at Chioza, a town fifteen miles who was present at the ceremony, and whose from the capital. The Venetians rose tumult-story is confirmed by every subsequent narration. uously, and insisted upon immediately conduct- It would be not worth so minute a record, were ing him to the city. The Lombards took the it not the triumph of liberty as well as of sualarm and departed towards Treviso. The Pope perstition. The states of Lombardy owed to it himself was apprehensive of some disaster if the confirmation of their privileges; and AlexFrederic should suddenly advance upon him, but ander had reason to thank the Almighty, who was reassured by the prudence and address of had enabled an infirm, unarmed old man to subSebastian Ziani, the Doge. Several embassies | due a terrible and potent sovereign *). passed between Chioza and the capital, until, at last, the Emperor relaxing somewhat of his pretensions, "laid aside his leonine ferocity, and put on the mildness of the lamb." ") On Saturday the 23d of July, in the year 1177, six Venetian galleys transferred Frederic, in great pomp, from Chioza to the island of Lido, a mile from Venice. Early the next morning the Pope, accompanied by the Sicilian ambassadors, and by the envoys of Lombardy, whom he had recalled from the main land, together with a great concourse of people, repaired from the patriarchal palace to Saint Mark's church, and solemnly absolved the Emperor and his partisans from the excommunication pronounced against him. The Chancellor of the Empire, on the part of his master, renounced the anti-popes and their schismatic adherents. Immediately the Doge, with a great suite both of the clergy and laity, got on board the galleys, and waiting on Frederic, rowed him in mighty state from the Lido to the capital. The Emperor descended from the galley at the quay of the Piazzetta. The Doge, the patriarch, his bishops and clergy, and the people of Venice with their crosses and their standards, marched in solemn procession before him to the church of Saint Mark. Alexander was seated before the vestibule of the basilica, attended by his bishops and cardinals, by the patriarch of Aquileja, by the archbishops and bishops of Lombardy, all of them in state, and clothed in their church-robes. Frederic approach *) "Quibus auditis, imperator, operante eo, qui corda principum sicut vult et quando vult humiliter inclinat, leonina feritate deposita, ovinam mansuetudinem induit." Romualdi Salernitani Chronicon, apud. Script. Rer. Ital. tom. vii. p. 229. Oh, for one hour of blind old Dandolo! Th' octogenarian chief, Byzantium's conquering foe. [p. 39. St. 12. The reader will recollect the exclamation of the highlander: Oh for one hour of Dundee ! Henry Dandolo, when elected Doge, in 1192, was eighty-five years of age. When he commanded the Venetians at the taking of Constantinople he was consequently ninety-seven years old. At this age he annexed the fourth and a half of the whole empire of Romania **), for so the Roman empire was then called, to the title and to the territories of the Venetian Doge. The threeeighths of this empire were preserved in the diplomas until the Dukedom of Giovanni Dolfino, who made use of the above designation in the year 1357.. *) Sce the above cited Romuald of Salerno. In a second sermon which Alexander preached, on the first day of August, before the Emperor, he compared Frederic to the prodigal son, and himself to the forgiving father. **) Mr. Gibbon has omitted the important a, and has written Romani instead of Romaniæ. Decline and Fall, cap. LXI. note 9. But the title acquired by Dandolo runs thus in the Chronicle of his namesake, the Doge Andrew Dandolo Ducali titulo addidit. "Quartæ partis et dimidiæ totius imperii Romaniæ." And. Dand. Chronicon. cap. III. pars XXXVI. ap. Script. Rer. Ital. tom. xII. page 331. And the Romania is observed in the subsequent acts of the Doge. Indeed the continental possessions of the Greek empire in Europe were then generally known by the name of Romania, and that appellation is still seen in the maps of Turkey as applied to Thrace, Dandolo led the attack on Constantinople in person: two ships, the Paradise and the Pilgrim, were tied together, and a drawbridge or ladder let down from their higher yards to the walls. The Doge was one of the first to rush into the city. Then was completed, said the Venetians, the Prophecy of the Erythræan sybil. "A gathering together of the powerful shall be made amidst the waves of the Adriatic, under a blind leader; they shall beset the goat-they shall profane Byzantium-they shall blacken her buildings-her spoils shall be dispersed; a new goat shall bleat until they have measured out and run over fifty-four feet, nine inches, and a half." *) Dandolo died on the first day of June, 1205, having reigned thirteen years, six months, and five days, and was buried in the church of St. Sophia, at Constantinople. Strangely enough it must sound, that the name of the rebel apothecary who received the Doge's sword, and annihilated the ancient government in 1791, was Dandolo. last, they surrendered at discretion; and, on the 24th of June, 1380, the Doge Contarini made his triumphal entry into Chioza. Four thousand prisoners, nineteen galleys, many smaller vessels and barks, with all the ammunition and arms, and outfit of the expedition, fell into the hands of the conquerors, who, had it not been for the inexorable answer of Doria, would have gladly reduced their dominion to the city of Venice. An acount of these transactions is found in a work called the War of Chioza, written by Daniel Chinazzo, who was in Venice at the time. The "Planter of the Lion." [p. 39. St. 14. Plant the Lion-that is, the Lion of St. Mark, the standard of the republic, which is the origin of the word Pantaloon-Pianta-leone, Pantaleon, Pantaloon. Thin streets and foreign aspects, such as must [p. 39. St. 15. of his former self, but he is polite and kind. It surely may be pardoned to him if he is querulous. Whatever may have been the vices of the republic, and although the natural term of its existence may be thought to foreigners to have arrived in the due course of mortality, only one sentiment can be expected from the Venetians themselves. At no time were the subjects of the republic so unanimous in their resolution to rally round the standard of St. Mark, as when it was for the last time unfurled; and the cowardice and the treachery of the few patricians who recommended the fatal neutrality, were confined to the persons of the traitors themselves. The population of Venice at the end of the seventeenth century amounted to nearly two But is not Doria's menace come to pass? hundred thousand souls. At the last census, taken Are they not bridled? [p. 39. St. 13. two years ago, it was no more than about one After the loss of the battle of Pola, and the hundred and three thousand, and it diminishes taking of Chioza on the 16th of August, 1379, by daily. The commerce and the official employthe united armament of the Genoese and Fran- ments, which were to be the unexhausted source cesco da Carrara, Signor of Padua, the Venetians of Venetian grandeur, have both expired. *) Most were reduced to the utmost despair. An embassy of the patrician mansions are deserted, and was sent to the conquerors with a blank sheet would gradually disappear, had not the governof paper, praying them to prescribe what terms ment, alarmed by the demolition of seventy-two, they pleased, and leave to Venice only her in- during the last two years, expressly forbidden dependence. The Prince of Padua was inclined this sad resource of poverty. Many remuants to listen to these proposals, but the Genoese, of the Venetian nobility are now scattered and who, after the victory at Pola, had shouted, "to confounded with the wealthier Jews upon the Venice, to Venice, and long live St. George!" banks of the Brenta, whose Palladian palaces determined to annihilate their rival, and Peter have sunk, or are sinking, in the general decay. Doria, their commander in chief, returned this Of the "gentil uomo Veneto," the name is still answer to the suppliants: "On God's faith, gentle-known, and that is all. He is but the shadow men of Venice, ye shall have no peace from the signor of Padua, nor from our commune of Genoa, until we have first put a rein upon those unbridled horses of yours, that are upon the Porch of your Evangelist St. Mark. When we have bridled them, we shall keep you quiet. And this is the pleasure of us and of our commune. As for these my brothers of Genoa, that you have brought with you to give up to us, I will not have them: take them back; for in a few days hence I shall come and let them out of prison myself, both these and all the others." In fact, the Genoese did advance as far as Malamocco, within five miles of the capital; but their own danger and the pride of their enemies gave courage to the Venetians, who made prodigious efforts, and many individual sacrifices, all of them carefully recorded by their historians. Vettor Pisani was put at the head of thirty-four galleys. The Genoese broke up from Malamocco, and retired to Chioza in October; but they again threatened Venice, which was reduced to extremities. At this time, the Ist of January, 1380, arrived Carlo Zeno, who had been cruising on the Genoese coast with fourteen galleys. The Venetians were now strong enough to besiege the Genoese. Doria was killed on the 22d of January by a stone bullet 195 pounds weight, discharged from a bombard called the Trevisan. Chioza was then closely invested; 5000 auxiliaries, amongst whom were some English Condottieri, commanded by one Captain Ceccho, joined the Venetians. The Genoese in their turn, prayed for conditions, but none were granted, until, at *) "Fiet potentium in aquis Adriaticis congregatio, cæco præduce, Hircum ambigent, Byzantium profanabunt, ædificia denigrabunt; spolia dispergentur, Hircus novus balabit usque dum LIV pedes et ix pollices, et semis præmensurati discurrant." [Cronicon, ibid. pars xxxiv.]| die The present race cannot be thought to regret the loss of their aristocratical forms, and too despotic government; they think only on their vanished independence. They pine away at the remembrance, and on this subject suspend for a moment their gay good-humour. Venice may be said, in the words of the scripture, "to daily;" and so general and so apparent is the decline, as to become painful to a stranger, not reconciled to the sight of a whole nation expiring as it were before his eyes. So artificial a creation, having lost that principle which called it into life and supported its existence, must fall to pieces at once, and sink more rapidly than it rose. The abhorrence of slavery which drove the Venetians to the sea, has, since their disaster, forced them to the land, where they may be at least overlooked amongst the crowd of dependants, and not present the humiliating |