LIFE ON THE LAGOONS.*

MICHAEL ANGELO TITMAESH has left a protest on record against the celebrity of a man of whom it was only known that he had 'written a book about the East. Every one, he said, had written a book about the East; it was a natural thing to expect from any one who had travelled. And the same remark might., to a certain extent, be applied to Venice. There is an endless variety of books about Venice,—good books, bad books, in- different books; books written from the artistic point of view, from the casual tourist's point of view, from almost every con- ceivable point of view. But Mr. Horatio Brown may fairly claim to have broken ground in a new direction in his addition to this branch of literature. The object of his book is to tell some- thing about the inner life of the Venetian people, of which it is almost impossible for the ordinary forestiere to know anything. He does not only inform us for the five-hundredth time that the gondola is "the most charming carriage in the world," but also what it is in itself, how it is made, how much the gondolier has to pay for it, how he manages to do so,.and how in course of time it has acquired the various peculiarities which distinguish it from every other known species of boat. Beginning at the beginning, he informs us what wood the different component parts of the gondola are made—the ribs of walnut, cherry, or elm ; the cerchio, or binder which keeps them together, of oak ; the walls and the flat bottom of pine ; the oars of beechwood. The whole history of the gondola is then traced from its construction at the boatbnilder's yard, through the palmy days of its prime, the necessary attentions to its well-being and seaworthiness (which Mr. Brown follows with the minute detail and affectionate interest of a medical specialist studying his pet malady), to the decrepit old age when "it is fit for nothing but to be sold for five lire, broken up, and burned in the glass-furnaces of Murano, the crematory of most ancient gondolas." There is something quite pathetic in this dismal ending, which should make the tourist, reclining luxuriously on the cushions of his still youthful gondola, take an affectionate interest even in the dense black clouds of smoke which hang over the picturesque houses of Murano and obscure the distant prospect of the Alps behind, inclining the hasty man to blas- phemy, and " him that is of milder mood" to gentle lamentation over a necessary evil. The gondolier, it appears at the first start, must be as heavily handicapped as the manager of any other public conveyance ; for the complete gondola, with all its various fittings, comes to no less than 1,100 francs at least, of which the actual boat is the least part. The felze, the sombre black covering with its funereal draperies which shelters the exclusive Venetian from the gaze of the vulgar at all times, and the un- blushing stranger from the wind and rain in bad weather, costs 500 francs by itself ; and the other appointments and ornaments of the gondola—the curiously fashioned prow, the modern inven- tion of the awning, and the little brass seahorses at the end of the arm-rests—come to almost as much more. The origin and growth of these various characteristic ornaments is traced by Mr. Brown from the earliest times, showing how the gondola gradually progressed from the primitive shape that we see in the pictures of Carpaccio and Gentile Bellini to the present form, which was reached only about a hundred and fifty years ago.

So much for the gondola itself. The gondolier, too, has his history, and, being perhaps the more interesting animal of the two, has &larger space allotted to him. An ordinary visitor at Venice may perhaps know that his boatman is originally summoned for him from one of the numerous traghetti; but these he probably regards merely as something analogous to a London cab-stand, where the gondoliers congregate by common consent or accord- ing to the regulations of the police. Bat the traghetti are in reality among the most ancient and interesting institutions of Venice ; and the chapter devoted to their history and the account of their present manner of working is perhaps the most successful part of Mr. Brown's book. Like all the crafts of ancient Venice, the gondoliers formed themselves at a very early date into guilds or " schools," as they were called, which com- bined the elements of a religious brotherhood, a benefit society, and a trades union. The spirit of devotion so characteristic of all ancient Venetian institutions is not wanting here, as is

* Life on the Lagoons. By roratio F. Brown. Lon Ion : Kogan Paul, Trench, and Co.

proved by various extracts from their archives. Thus the statutes of the traghetto of Santa Maria Zobenigo begin in a solemn religions strain :-

" In the name of God, the Eternal Father, and of His Son, Misses- Jesu Cristo, and of HM glorious mother, the Virgin Mary, and of the thrice-blessed patron }dieser San Marco, and of Maser San Gregorio, who are the guardians of ns, the boatmen at the traghetto of San Gregorio and Santa Maria Zobenigo; may they help each and all of ns brothers to live in fear of the Lord God, and with peace and brotherly love between us, first in health and prosperity, and then to salvation of our souls and the remission of our sins."

Whether the gondoliers still retain their old religious spirit is doubtful. In the old days they were obliged to perform their religions duties by their statutes,—which also, with the thoroughly Venetian blending of the commercial and devotional' elements, applied the fines exacted from offending members of the confraternity to supply oil to the lamp for the shrine of the traghetto. It is not long since the insane bigotry of some maledetto Inglese, whom pious gondoliers should hold in as great horror and detestation as even the engineer who is responsible for the iron bridges across the Grand Canal, tried to stamp out their religious feeling ("idolatry," according to the evangelists of Exeter Hall) by buying up and removing these shrines ; and it is only through the charity and generosity of an American lady, well-known in Venice both for her good works and her social gifts,. who restored them at her own expense, that they exist now. If the gondoliers' religion survives such rude attacks as these, it should be strong indeed ; but the fact is that a considerable spirit of devotion does still remain among them, added to their other good qualities, and these are many. They are, as a rule, steady and well behaved, temperate (except, perhaps, on some great occasions) to a degree almost incredible to one who is only acquainted with the lower classes of England and Scotland, willing to work, and ready to attach themselves to the padrone who treats them well with almost canine fidelity. They have their faults, of course, like all other classes of humanity, and these are often considerable ; but industry and good humour cover a multitude of sins. Another natural attraction is their splendid physique. Fine, stalwart fellows are the Venetian gondoliers ; and ils ne l'oni pas roue. If we are to believe Mr. Brown, only the most herculean constitution would survive the- neglect and bad nourishment and other ills which all Venetian flesh is heir to in childhood. And, indeed, to the most ignorant masculine mind a diet of "black coffee, sour wine, and raw apple, freely administered during the first ten months," seems hardly calculated to promote the growth of the most healthy infant. Perhaps it is this bringing up which makes Venetians, so amiable in later life, so extremely objectiofiable in their boyhood.. Certainly, a more obnoxious set of little ruffians than those who the unwary foreigner who wanders out of the more frequented parts of Venice, and tries to find his way through the intricate maze of narrow calli, can- hardly be found anywhere. Such unwary explorers seem only to be regarded in two lights—either as millionaires who are expected to give liberal alms to wholly undeserving and comparatively well-to-do beggars, or merely as victims sent by Providence upon whom to exert every ingenuity of annoyance. This is sad, but many things are sad. It is sad, no doubt, for the patriotic Italian who glories in the freedom which his country has so nobly achieved for itself, to think that even in Venice, which made such heroic efforts to free itself from its foreign rulers in 1848,.the common people still retain a sneaking kindness for the generous barbarians on whose lavish expenditure the gondoliers and tradesmen throve. It is sad, too, to know that even the picturesque and unconven- tional-looking gondolier stands in as great fear of Mrs. Grundy,. or her Venetian sister, la critica, as any member of the most highly-cultured community can do. For every action among- the Venetian people is regulated, as we are told, by the very strictest etiquette. The presents that a lover should give to his lady, that the groomsman should give to the bride, the exact nature, amount, and order of the dishes at every entertainment —all are decided by the inexorable costume. That this strictness of etiquette may have some good results, is probable. No flagrant fault can be committed, no serious false step taken, for fear of the immediate and unanimous condemnation of all the neigh- bours. But it also tends to introduce a stilted and unnatural style among the simple customs of the people, and seems, among other results, to entail very serious expenses among those who marry and are given in marriage, who have their children chris- tened, or in any other way give in to the prejudices of ordinary life. As an account of the life of the Venetian people, Life on the Lagoons will be valuable as well as entertaining to the traveller.

But it is to be regretted that the author is not contented with attaining this end. The slight but interesting sketches of the surrounding islands, and even of some of the towns on the mainland, to which the gondoliers make excursions when they can afford it, are also, in spite of their essentially exoteric character, a pleasant addition to the book. But Mr. Brown has an unfortunate tendency to go off into rhapsodies, and call up pictures of the past, which are wholly unnecessary. " We can people these halls and gardens," he says—speaking of the old country houses on the Brenta —" with their eighteenth-century -crowd of hooped and brocaded ladies," &c. We can ; but on mature consideration, we consider it better not to do so, or at least we would prefer to do it for ourselves. It has been frequently done before, and its repetition reminds us too much of the retrospects in the leading articles of the daily papers on the occasion of the Derby, the University Boat-race, or some such anniversary. Another rash step which Mr. Brown has taken is the attempt to translate the popular ballads of the Venetians,—always a very difficult task. The most skilful trans- istor would find it hard to: give an adequate prose translation -of such a verse as :—

" La bruta cosa, inamorarse solo ;

Perche is fantasia va troppo in alto ; E la va in alto, the la riva al sole;

La bruta cosa, inamorarse solo."

The idea of this verse is sufficiently difficult to catch, but Mr.

Brown renders it even more unintelligible in the following bold .translation

;- "To love unto one's self alone Is folly, rest assured ;

For fancy, if it once hath flown, Can be no more immured ; Nor of its plumes a single one Be plucked to stay its flight ; It wings its way into the sun, Is burned, and then good-night."

'Here our author soars into a lofty and poetical strain of his own about the plucking of the plumes, which he supplies (gra- tuitously) to fancy, which contrasts oddly with the jaunty—not to say slangy—nature of the conclusion. This is bat one

instance out of many. Another practice of his is to add a wholly gratuitous " 0 " at the end of the alternate lines, the object of which is not clear, unless it is meant, as with the immortal ditty sung by Mr. Samuel Weller, to give an opportunity for a singer, supposing these gems to be set to music, to take breath at the end of the line. Thus we have one Venetian ballad

translated:— "Now blessings on the yard and mast,

The boat my love's aboard, 0 ; With swelling sail and sheet hauled fast, He's lord of all aboard, 0."

Mr. Brown tells us that his translations are intended to convey an impression of "the author's mood." It is to be regretted that they have not succeeded better. But, setting apart these few faults, he has written a thoroughly readable book, which 'cannot fail to afford entertainment to those who take an interest in the people of the old Queen of the Sea.