SPECTATOR'S LIBRARY.

Tasvu.s,

A Visit to Italy. By Mrs. Trollope, Author of " Paris and the Parisians " ; " Do- mestic Manners of the Americans," &e. &c. In two volumes Bentley.

MISVONARY HISTORY, History of the Baptist Missionary Society, from 1792 to 1892. By the Reverend F. A. Cox. D.U. LL.D. To which is added, a Sketch of the General Baptist Mis-

sion. In two volumes Ward.

MRS. TROLLOPS'S VISIT TO ITALY.

ITALY has been the theme of so many and various travellers, from the learned and elaborate investigation down to the common guide- book, that a person should be skilled in some pursuit, or pos- sess a very rare genius, before he ventures to give to the world his impressions of an Italian tour. As an example of what we mean, there was the late Joust BELL, whose general taste for all the fine arts, whose acumen as a critic and practice as an amateur, gave such distinctness and vitality to his descriptions, whilst his profound professional knowledge of anatomy, both in its physical forms and their living action, brought as it were a new sense to his criticism on the masterpieces of art. As a perfect contrast to Joan BELL, there is LAING, whose utilitarian, albeit liberal and enlightened studies on politics and political economy, enable him to consider things in a novel point of view, and impart great interest to the Italian portion of his Notes of a Traveller. And other late writers might be enumerated, who by a marked peculiarity of pursuit or of character have succeeded in imparting something like freshness to their pages. With these deductions present to our mind, we had little hope of any beneficial result from the litterateurship of Mrs. TROLLOPS, however clever it may be, employed on an Italian field. But her Visit to Daly has agreeably convicted us of a mistake. There is no doubt some flippancy in her two volumes ; a more than sufficient quantity of Trollopian reverie put into type, as well as instances of bad taste in personal allusions, and scraps of French and other lan- guages needlessly interlarded with her English ; together with a very few of her peculiar notions on high life and govern- ment. But, in spite of every thing that may be alleged against it, her Visit presents a more distinct impression of Italy than any other work we remember to have met with. The reader sees that Italy is different from every other country ; and he is made to see in what the difference consists. The brightness of her sky—the clearness of her atmosphere—the exhilirating excitement of her air—the beautiful grandeur or picturesqueness of her moun- tains—the flat extent of her plains, redeemed only from wearisome- ness by their associations, concomitants, and sky—are vividly presented to the mind. We see with equal distinctness the phy- sical beauty—the grace of manner—the innate taste in art of the peasantry of Southern Italy, showing itself in the choice of the colour ancl-arrangement of the form of their sordid and dirty rags, as well as in every movement and attitude. The effects of the paternal Governments of Austria and Tuscany, in caring for the physical prosperity of their subjects, are contrasted with the well- brought-out effects of Papal and Neapolitan misrule ; which, in countries of the most wonderful capacity, reduce their people to such poverty and destitution, that even Mrs. TROLLOPS would welcome any change—except a violent revolution. But probably the point impressed with most distinctness is the wonderful architectural and artistical wealth of Italy. The number not merely of good buildings or of good pictures and statues, but the abounding profusion of works of a merit so great, and so rarely to be seen on this side the Alps, that art can hardly be apprehended without crosing them, are made present to us ; as well as the wonderful fertility and industry of the great artists of the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries, and the riches expended by the merchant- princes of Genoa, Florence, and Venice, in adorning their palaces with almost every kind of work that came under the comprehensive head of the " Arti de Dipintori," enumerated by the Hand-book of Northern Italy. Mrs. TROLLOPS'S opinions on the works of art, whether criticism, description, or rhapsody, are also of value ; being, apparently, the independent result of actual perception, Without regard to the authority of general opinion, and conveying a conception of the particular work, or of the impression it produces. Sometimes, however, her rhapsody degenerates into vague generalities. The route, with its time and arrangements, was a rather unusual one. Crossing Mount Cenis to Turin in April, Mrs. TROLLOPS passed on to Genoa and Pisa, reaching Florence before the end of the month. With the exception of an excursion to the mountain- monasteries of Vallombrosa and Camoldi, our authoress and her

son remained at the Tuscan capital till July, when they betook themselves for coolness to the baths of Lucca ; returning to Florence in September, in time for a grand assemblage of Savans, analogous to our Association for the Advancement of Science. About October we find her in route through Bologna and Padua to Venice, which she left in the same month for Rome, where she slept one night, when a sudden determination of freak or necessity took her to Naples. In all the delight of excursionizing in balmy sunshine she passed our gloomy month of November, and then returned to spend some weeks in the Eternal City ; leaving it in January for Milan ; which she reached amidst heavy rain and the other discomforts of a winter in Northern Italy,—crossing the Alps in a heavy snow-storm, but luckily without wind.

I have more than once been or fancied myself in danger, when there was Just sufficient excitement from it to to make it a matter of doubt afterwards Whether the sensation had been made up with more of pleasure or of pain. Bat not so of this midnight passage of Mount Cents. Surrounded as we were by stout-hearted men, fearless alike by nature and by habit, there was not one who uttered a cheering word ; excepting, indeed, when one of the poor fellows at the carriage-window, as he painfully dragged his limbs; from out the snow, exclaimed, • Au moms, Dieu merci I none n'avons pas Zr tourment.' " What tourment, friend' said I.

" ' Le vent, Madame, le vent!' he replied, in a sort of gentle growl; avail du vent avec le neige que tombs ce soir '; and there he stopped, leaving me to guess the rest.

" Fortunate, indeed, was it that we had not this tourment, as it is familiarly called ; for it often renders the winter-passage full of danger and difficulty, even when no snow is actually falling."

The general character of a landscape is quickly perceived, and a little time enables one to discover its principal features. The buildings, and still more the collections of a great city, require a longer time to examine and study : it will therefore be readily seen that Mrs. TROLLOPS'S artistical descriptions, at least her artistical descriptions of much extent or value, are limited to Florence, Venice, and Rome. Her pictures of the scenery and the people are more widely spread. Here is an early glimpse of

ITALIAN LAZINESS NEAR GENOA.

Besides this, I had another study which detained me at this same window. Immediately under it a group of nine boys, all clothed in Murillo-tinted rags, and varying in age from about twelve to five, had congregated themselves upon a heap of sand and pebbles, and during the space of two hours that I remained either at or near the window they never changed their position ; all of them lying upon their stomachs or their sides, basking in the sun, with their heads towards one common centre. I never witnessed a spectacle of such utterly list- less idleness. Their only amusement was the picking out little pebbles and flinging them at one another, but so tranquilly, that no quarrelling or noisy effect of any kinctwas the result. Most certainly In their warm cheeks the sultry season glowed : " but could this alone cause the perfect stillness of a group, all of whom were of a sex and age that I had ever seen elsewhere appearing to detest stillness more than even painful fatigue? Other causes must, I think, have something to do with it. They one and all looked in perfect health, and I could only suppose that habitual idleness had taught them to be content with this half- dead condition. Poor little fellows! Several of them were superbly handsome,. with curly locks and eyes as black as sloes. I would have given something to have seen them all busily at school. • At Sestri we again saw, on different parts of the beach, little heaps of six or eight children at a time, all old enough to be profitably employed either in learning or in labour, but all lying about in the sun, in more complete inaction and idleness than I ever watched elsewhere, except perhaps in the Negro-breed- ing farms of Virginia, where the children preparing for the Southern market are permitted to fatten in very perfect idleness.

BACKWARDNESS OF ITALIAN MECHANICS: THE MARBLE QUARRIES.

After looking at the quarries with such recollections as may easily be ima- gined, and raised thereby my estimate of the power of man to pretty nearly the highest possible pitch, I turned to examine the mode in which the blocks of marble were conveyed down the descent which leads to the town of Car- rara. The utter and entire ignorance of every species of mechanical aid with which this process was effected appeared almost incredible, though there it was going on before our eyes. In the first place, the approach to the quarry is among and over masses of marble-rock, which the labour of a score of able- bodied men for a week or two would suffice to remove for ever and for ever, leaving free the access to this tesoro sacra till the slow chisel hail consumed the mighty mass. The way thus cleared, an iron rail, of considerably leas than a mile in length, would enable cars, bearing the precious blocks, to be conveyed to the door of the sawing-mill without difficulty or risk of any kind. Instead of this, how- ever, this finest quarry of the world has its produce rattled down the descent in a manner which perpetually causes the blocks to be broken ; for, instead of its being an affair thus simple, it is now one of such difficulty and danger that it is really terrible to behold. The carriage upon which the blocks are placed is of very massive timber, rudely and very nnartistically put together ; to this six oxen are attached ; but the number is reduced to two when the vehicle, as frequently happens, reaches some point of its progress at which it is rather per- mitted to drop down than to be drawn. At these times, the exertions of the men who have charge of the convoy are really frightful, and frequently at- tended with dreadful accidents. In order to prevent, or impede as much as may be, the violent fall of the vehicle from one mass of rock to another, they spring, at the most imminent risk to life and limb, from one part of the rude machine to another, in order either to produce a balance favourable to the manceuvre, or else to coerce the movements of the oxen, who are often brought into such positions as to render any ordinary mode of driving them impracticable. The barbarous ignorance with which all this brute force is required, and applied, has something in it truly lamentable' and very directly suggests a doubt, whether the intact purity with which his Highness of Modena labours to preserve his territory from all intercourse with other races of human beings, is calculated to produce benefit to those who have the honour of calling him lord ? It ap- pears utterly impossible that this Robinson Crusoe-like style of engineering could be persevered in, were less pains taken to keep intruding eyes and blab- bing tongues from the district where it is carried Oil. To those who are aware how low the rate of wages is in that part of the world, it may convey some idea of the toil and difficulty of this work, to be told that the men so em- ployed work but for four hours in the day, and the price they receive for this is the value of five francs. The appearance of the poor fellows when thus employed is really terrific. The whole of the upper part of their bodies is without clothing, the skin the colour of bronze, and every muscle and every feature so distorted by the vehemence of the action they are using as to make it exceeedingly painful to watch them.

We must pass from man and nature, to what forms no doubt, the main feature of the volumes—man's works. This is Mrs. Tam,- LOPE'S account of her

FIRST INTERVIEW WITH THE MEDICEAN VENUS.

On on, on, we went, as if bewitched ; which was in truth reversing the pro- per order of events, for instead of preceding, the bewitchment ought to have followed our arrival. At length the green baize door was reached ; and to pre- vent all doubts or blundering, the word "Tribune" is inscribed over it. It yields to the slightest touch, retires noiselessly from before you, and there you are vis-ii-vis to the Venus de Medicis.

It would be exceedingly amusing, were it possible, to get at the first sponta- neous thoughts and sensations which arise in the souls of those who visit this statue upon its first taking possession of their eyes. There are some who may be enabled by their highly-educated taste, and familiar acquaintance with what constitutes the highest excellence in sculpture, to perceive at once all that the more ignorant require leisure to discover; and these, I doubt not, feel at the first glance, and with all the assurance of knowledge, totally unmixed with any of the intoxicating vapour of enthusiasm, that what they look upon is supreme in excellence, and that the delicate little creature before them fully deserves all the rapturous noise she has made in the world. This I feel to be possible, and quite believe to be true. But that it requires an eye thus accomplished to discern by this first glance all that is 90 marvellous in the work as to have sus-

tained its unvarying fame through ages, I feel very sincerely convinced. What

sensation I expected to experience on beholding it I really cannot tell; but I suppose it was some sort of saisissetnerat that was to be very elevating, very de- lightful, very sublime. Something that might, perhaps, bring tears into the eyes, or make it for a moment rather difficult to speak. I do not quite like to say in broad English that I was disappointed,—first, because I am not quite sure that it is true, and next, because I should be rather ashamed of it : but as to any of the vehement emotions above-mentioned, I certainly felt them not. After the first long steadfast look has been taken, I suppose every body steps forward, as we did, to make a closer survey of this new acquaintance; and then it was that I began to feel conscious that there was something spe- cial and peculiar about this statue—something that must for ever prevent its being mixed and confounded in the memory with any other. No undraped figure ever stood before one with such retiring modesty, such unoffending sim- plicity, such gentle delicacy. It seems scarcely a figure of speech to say that this air of purity hangs about her like a palpable veil, giving a grace which, be- fore one had seen it here, might naturally have been declared beyond the reach of art ; and that it was found not so, makes one of the miracles that at- taches to the formation of this worshipped marble, and perhaps not the least. I think I should have been well pleased to have left the gallery without look- ing at anything else.

For any benefit to science, in a large sense, the Florentine gathering of the Savans in 1841 was of slender consequence ; but as indicating the liberal feelings of the grand Duke, and his judicious determination to keep up with the age, restraining and guiding instead of vainly endeavouring to check its advance, the assembly was of considerable importance. Nor is the circumstance of Rome and the miserable little Duchy of Modena being the only Italian states that forbade the presence of their subjects at the gathering without significance. The general description may be read in the work ; we quote an instance of the consideration of the Duke for the carnal comforts of the learned.

"Thinking it probable that many of the members might be inconvenienced by having for fifteen days to find their dinners at an hotel, he has ordered a daily banquet to be prepared by Honey, the great Ude of Florence, and laid out with every attention to comfort and elegance, in the magnificent orangery of the Pitti Palace, which opens by many doors to the Boboli Gardens on one side while on the other it communicates with the town. To the table thus supplied the Duke contributes eighteen thousand francs, besides the very con- siderable expense of fitting up the locale, which is said to be very elegantly done. The price of admission to be paid by the guests is live pauls, (rather more than three francs,) exclusive of any extra wine which they may individu- ally order; and the dinner ordered is at double that price. I was told that in reply to some observations made on the costliness of the entertainment and doubts expressed of its necessity, the Duke remarked, that he concAved an easy and familiar intercourse between the studious and retired men thus brought together to be one of the most desirable results of the meeting ; and that as it must be presumed that the more wealthy among them would choose to dine well, all must be enabled to do so, or this result would be lost."

The following passage is confirmatory of a quotation made last week from the Hand-book of Italy, as to the value of the yet unpublished manuscripts.

MICHAEL ANGELO'S MANUSCRIPTS.

A large collection of autograph manuscripts, nearly all of them still unpub- lished, form the most precious part of the relics thus preserved ; because they are likely to bring us into the closest acquaintance with the heart and mind of their immortal author. Signore Buonarroti very kindly read to us several of the letters. The turn of thought in all was lively, and sometimes even play- ful; and in more than one instance, showed the power of saying strong things gracefully—and thereby reminded one of works in tougher character, but is- suing from the same spirit.

One little note amused me greatly, from the contrast between its lightness and the grandiose impressions which the very name of Michael Angelo always seems to produce. It was addressed to a lady, and written upon a scrap of blue paper ; not, however, of the dainty tint by which the petites waitresses of our day choose to variegate their portfolios. Michael Angelo's blue paper was evidently seized upon faute de mien.; and might likely enough have formed the envelope of a parcel of stout hose ; but the great immortal contrived to give a charm to the metamorphosis by saying, that the celestial hue of his paper must be taken by his fair correspondent as emblematical of the heavenly region to which be conceived her to belong.

Some of the letters were deeply interesting; and the tone of one to his nephew, in which be gives him much important and even solemn advice, and then redeems what he might fear was stern in it by something almost playful at the conclu- sion, was charming. These precious papers, amounting to several volumes, and containing matter of interest in as many various ways as the versatile genius and versatile life of their author promise, are ultimately intended for publica- tion. But the Cavaliers Cosimo Buonarroti wishes very naturally to be him- self their editor ; and it is to be feared that his occupations, as an active Magis- trate, and holding the distinguished position of President in the Supreme Court, may long prevent his finding leisure for the work.

In the effect of Venice Mrs. TROLLOPE agrees with every one, from the poet or the sentimental school-girl to the utilitarian LAING : it more than realizes all that you expected : but she falls, and oddly enough considering her notions of government, into all the common romance notions about the tyranny of the Venetian rule,—though one of her instances would convey a notion quite contrary to what she expatiates upon, not to mention that the accused was always heard in self-defence.

THE LION'S HEAD.

For the purpose of leaving the palace, we were conducted to the door of en- trance immediately opposite the Giant's Stairs; and near beside this door were made to remark the once dreaded receptacle of all the political scandal of Venice. The now innoxious cavity had nothing more mischievous within it than a little dust; but yet it seemed to have a voice still, and told horrible tales of the mischief and cowardly injury of which it had been the vehicle. The lion's head no longer covers the outside of the aperture, which has now very nearly the appearance of a yawning ill-made letterbox. The position of this pernicious letterbox pi so very public that none could ever have approached it unseen, excepting daring the hours of darkness; and even then, the constant going and coming, likely to continue both late and early, at such a spot, must have made a secret resort to it a business of difficulty and danger.

RICHES OF VENICE.

Of the churches of Venice I am almost as much afraid to speak as of the pictures. I came here with a very impious sort of notion, that I should find the architecture of Palladio too full of ornament and devices for my taste; but I have been very satisfactorily convinced, since my arrival, that the imaginings of ignorance are of little worth. There is a blending of grace and majesty in his works here, that gives a peculiar character to every scene in which they make a part ; and they harmonize so exquisitely well with the delicate clear- ness of the atmosphere, the liquid smoothness of the clear mirror that every.. where reflects them, and the advantageous points of view which the fine reaches of the Grand Canal enable the spectator to obtain that nowhere can the effect of beautiful architecture be felt more strongly. And yet, notwithstanding the startling brilliancy of the coup-d'teil, which on first traversing this Grand Canal creates so strong a degree of pleasure and surprise, this general effect is less marvellous than the repetition and accumulation of various sights, all sources of wonder and admiration, which this extraordinary place continues to furnish, day after day, with an abundance that seems absolutely unbounded. We have now been here rather more than a week, and I think I have already seen within the churches and palaces of this sea-barriered city, a greater accu- mulation of wealth in their gems, marbles pictures, gildings, carvings, halls, frescoes, staircases, ceilings, columns, and cornices than in all the other churches and palaces that I ever saw. The excess Of this accumulation has completely astonished me, I confess ; for though I have all my life been read- ing of the past glory of Venice, of its wealth and its greatness, I had no idea whatever that I should still find here such a well-preserved treasury of wealth. The marbles alone that have been made to traverse the seas in order to line the

multitude of gorgeous churches in Venice, when seen as we have seen them in rapid succession, amount to something almost incredible, both as to their won- derful variety and the labour bestowed upon them. Statues seem as abundant as leaves upon the trees in a summer grove, and you might suppose that works in relievo cost no more trouble than paper filagree. The pictures, too, are of a splendour, a glow, of colouring, and a sumptuousness of detail, that would be sought in vain elsewhere. • I rejoice to say, that at the present moment it would be very statistically in-

correct to say that Venice was perishing. That the work of destruction had begun, and was rapidly progressing, is undoubtedly true when speaking of some few years ago; but it is so no longer. Austria is certainly not at all likely to restore to Venice the aristocratic power of her old republic; but as long as the city is in her hands, the politically indifferent connoisseurs may set thew hearts at rest concerning her condition. Nothing that is left will be suf- fered to deteriorate further,—unless, indeed, it should be doomed to destruction by the will of the actual possessor; in which case, of course, the rights of pri- vate property must and will interfere with the inclination which the present Government has so clearly manifested to preserve whatever is either curious or valuable.

'rwo more topics and we have done ; one relating to ancient buildings, and one to modern misgovernment.

ROMAN AMPHITHEATRES : VERONA.

I almost lament having seen the stupendous Roman amphitheatre here. • •

I am half angry with myself, I think, for being so greatly struck with the grandeur of this unholy edifice. I am less "an antique Roman" than most people; having very little respect for their greatness, which neither in its origin or end appears to me of the best quality. But I felt it impossible, as I stood in this boldly-conceived theatre, to deny that their brutal joys must have had as much sublimity thrown around them as genius and power could bestow. Why is it that, with all the accumulated science of so many ages to help us, we can no longer rear such works as this ?—so beautiful in its grand simpli- city, and at the same time so completely fulfilling the purpose for which it was planned, that the grace and the dignity seem to have grown out of it as if by accident. Fitness of form seems to constitute beauty in the same manner that ease of movement constitutes grace. In both cases, a sort of instinctive common sense tells us that it is right—the mind is satisfied, and the spirit pleased. It is a pity that what seems so simple, while acknowledged to be so admirable, should ever be departed from. The object being to accommodate thirty thousand persons in the best manner possible, for the purpose of their all having a perfectly commodious view of what was doing in the arena, it is impossible to imagine any other mode or manner in which it could be done so well. So gracious in the form, so majestic the proportions of these bare rough elements of a building, that all the glories of Palladio, which I had so lately been gazing at with delight, seemed little better than so much Dresden china, by comparison with them.

I looked, and looked, till I began to quarrel with all human improvement ; and the nineteenth century was rapidly descending to a discount in my ima- gination, when I happened to fix my eyes upon sundry openings, which were evidently not intended either for the entrances or the vomitaries of the thirty thousand spectators. "What were those apertures for ? " said I. "Those were for letting in the wild beasts upon the gladiators," was the reply. It is wonderful how suddenly the ideas suggested by this answer disenchanted me.

THE ECCLESIASTICAL STATES.

Never before have I been so literally called upon to "enter into the vene- rable presence of Hunger, Thirst, and Cold," as during this memorable expedi- tion. To make this statement accurately correct, however, the word " dirt " must be substituted for " cold "; although we have occasionally been met by a cutting and a biting wind, that accorded not well with the rich foliage, which has still for the most part more the aspect of August than of November. But the dirt and melancholy neglect of themselves, which we have found among the people at the miserable little inns where we have been obliged to pass se- veral nights, is beyond any thing you can imagine, and has offered us a sadder picture of human misery, ignorance, and destitution, than I have ever wit- nessed, except perhaps among the manufacturing population of Manchester and its neighbourhood. The wretched ignorance and poverty of the Eccle- siastical States presses most painfully upon the observation at every step you go, by every object you see, and from every question you ask. "It is not that we are idle,, said a man with whom my son entered into conversation : "we are not idle ; we would dig the very rocks to get bread, if we were not so sorely burdened ;" (si gravita, was his phrase.) And he added, that those who would live well must live either in Tuscany or Lombardy "a man may do well in either." The consequence of this sort of hopeless despair is a supine abandonment of all the little contrivances which we so frequently see giving decency and even comfort to poverty. Rags, filth, and very deficient nourishment, all seem en- dured with a degree of sullen calmness, that must be either the prelude to a storm, or one stage of a process by which the inhabitants of this unhappy por- tion of the finest country in the world is to sink into a moral condition in 00 way superior to that of Hottentots. There is something inexpressibly painful in travelling through a country where the contrast is so fearfully strong between the munificent operations of nature and the pitiful management of man ; and this, too, in a land that owns the same language as that spoken in the prosperous fields of Tuscany and Lombardy. In many cases the commonest resources of human industry ap- peared to be absolutely unknown. We were repeatedly told, when asking tor milk, " that no cows were kept in that neighbourhood :" "that there was nothing for them to eat." And that in a climate where the very air seems to generate vegetation !