Travels Through France And Italy by Tobias Smollett (fastest ebook reader .txt) 📕

Great Body Of Water, As Fills The Basin Of The Source, The Roman

Basin, Two Large Deep Canals Three Hundred Feet In Length, Two

Vast Basins That Make Part Of The Great Canal, Which Is Eighteen

Hundred Feet Long. Eighteen Feet Deep, And Forty-Eight Feet

Broad. When I Saw It, There Was In It About Eight Or Nine Feet Of

Water, Transparent As Crystal. It Must Be Observed, However, For

The Honour Of French Cleanliness, That In The Roman Basin,

Through Which This Noble Stream Of Water Passes, I Perceived Two

Washerwomen At Work Upon Children's Clouts And Dirty Linnen.

Surprized, And Much Disgusted At This Filthy Phaenomenon, I Asked

By What Means, And By Whose Permission, Those Dirty Hags Had Got

Down Into The Basin, In Order To Contaminate The Water At Its

Fountain-Head; And Understood They Belonged To The Commandant Of

The Place, Who Had Keys Of The Subterranean Passage.

Fronting The Roman Baths Are The Ruins Of An Antient Temple,

Which, According To Tradition, Was Dedicated To Diana: But It Has

Been Observed By Connoisseurs, That All The Antient Temples Of

This Goddess Were Of The Ionic Order; Whereas, This Is Partly

Corinthian, And Partly Composite. It Is About Seventy Foot Long,

And Six And Thirty In Breadth, Arched Above, And Built Of Large

Blocks Of Stone,

Exactly Joined Together Without Any Cement. The Walls Are Still

Standing, With Three Great Tabernacles At The Further End,

Fronting The Entrance. On Each Side, There Are Niches In The

Intercolumniation Of The Walls, Together With Pedestals And

Shafts Of Pillars, Cornices, And An Entablature, Which Indicate

The Former Magnificence Of The Building. It Was Destroyed During

The Civil War That Raged In The Reign Of Henry Iii. Of France.

It Is Amazing, That The Successive Irruptions Of Barbarous

Nations, Of Goths, Vandals, And Moors; Of Fanatic Croisards,

Still More Sanguinary And Illiberal Than Those Barbarians, Should

Have Spared This Temple, As Well As Two Other Still More Noble

Monuments Of Architecture, That To This Day Adorn The City Of

Nismes: I Mean The Amphitheatre And The Edifice, Called Maison

Carree--The Former Of These Is Counted The Finest Monument Of The

Kind, Now Extant; And Was Built In The Reign Of Antoninus Pius,

Who Contributed A Large Sum Of Money Towards Its Erection. It Is

Of An Oval Figure, One Thousand And Eighty Feet In Circumference,

Capacious Enough To Hold Twenty Thousand Spectators. The

Architecture Is Of The Tuscan Order, Sixty Feet High, Composed Of

Two Open Galleries, Built One Over Another, Consisting Each Of

Threescore Arcades. The Entrance Into The Arena Was By Four Great

Gates, With Porticos; And The Seats, Of Which There Were Thirty,

Rising One Above Another, Consisted Of Great Blocks Of Stone,

Many Of Which Still Remain. Over The North Gate, Appear Two

Bulls, In Alto-Relievo, Extremely Well Executed, Emblems Which,

According To The Custom Of The Romans, Signified That The

Amphitheatre Was Erected At The Expence Of The People. There Are

In Other Parts Of It Some Work In Bas-Relief, And Heads Or Busts

But Indifferently Carved. It Stands In The Lower Part Of The

Town, And Strikes The Spectator With Awe And Veneration. The

External Architecture Is Almost Intire In Its Whole Circuit; But

The Arena Is Filled Up With Houses--This Amphitheatre Was

Fortified As A Citadel By The Visigoths, In The Beginning Of The

Sixth Century. They Raised Within It A Castle, Two Towers Of

Which Are Still Extant; And They Surrounded It With A Broad And

Deep Fossee, Which Was Filled Up In The Thirteenth Century. In

All The Subsequent Wars To Which This City Was Exposed, It Served

As The Last Resort Of The Citizens, And Sustained A Great Number

Of Successive Attacks; So That Its Preservation Is Almost

Miraculous. It Is Likely, However, To Suffer Much More From The

Gothic Avarice Of Its Own Citizens, Some Of Whom Are Mutilating

It Every Day, For The Sake Of The Stones, Which They Employ In

Their Own Private Buildings. It Is Surprizing, That The King's 

Authority Has Not Been Exerted To Put An End To Such Sacrilegious

Violation.

If The Amphitheatre Strikes You With An Idea Of Greatness, The

Maison Carree Enchants You With The Most Exquisite Beauties Of

Architecture And Sculpture. This Is An Edifice, Supposed Formerly

To Have Been Erected By Adrian, Who Actually Built A Basilica In

This City, Though No Vestiges Of It Remain: But The Following

Inscription, Which Was Discovered On The Front Of It, Plainly

Proves, That It Was Built By The Inhabitants Of Nismes, In Honour

Of Caius And Lucius Caesar, The Grandchildren Of Augustus By His

Daughter Julia, The Wife Of Agrippa.           

C. Caesari. Avgvsti. F. Cos.

L Caesari. Avgmi. F. Cos.

Designato.

Principibvs Ivventutis.

To Caius And Lucius Caesar, Sons Of Augustus, Consuls Elect,

Princes Of The Roman Youth.

This Beautiful Edifice, Which Stands Upon A Pediment Six Feet

High, Is Eighty-Two Feet Long, Thirty-Five Broad, And Thirty-Seven

High, Without Reckoning The Pediment. The Body Of It Is

Adorned With Twenty Columns Engaged In The Wall, And The

Peristyle, Which Is Open, With Ten Detached Pillars That Support

The Entablature. They Are All Of The Corinthian Order, Fluted And

Embellished With Capitals Of The Most Exquisite Sculpture, The

Frize And Cornice Are Much Admired, And The Foliage Is Esteemed

Inimitable. The Proportions Of The Building Are So Happily

United, As To Give It An Air Of Majesty And Grandeur, Which The

Most Indifferent Spectator Cannot Behold Without Emotion. A Man

Needs Not Be A Connoisseur In Architecture, To Enjoy These

Beauties. They Are Indeed So Exquisite That You May Return To

Them Every Day With A Fresh Appetite For Seven Years Together.

What Renders Them The More Curious, They Are Still Entire, And

Very Little Affected, Either By The Ravages Of Time, Or The Havoc

Of War. Cardinal Alberoni Declared, That It Was A Jewel That

Deserved A Cover Of Gold To Preserve It From External Injuries.

An Italian Painter, Perceiving A Small Part Of The Roof Repaired

By Modern French Masonry, Tore His Hair, And Exclaimed In A Rage,

"Zounds! What Do I See? Harlequin's Hat On The Head Of Augustus!"

Without All Doubt It Is Ravishingly Beautiful. The Whole World 

Cannot Parallel It; And I Am Astonished To See It Standing

Entire, Like The Effects Of Inchantment, After Such A Succession

Of Ages, Every One More Barbarous Than Another. The History Of

The Antiquities Of Nismes Takes Notice Of A Grotesque Statue,

Representing Two Female Bodies And Legs, United Under The Head Of

An Old Man; But, As It Does Not Inform Us Where It Is Kept, I Did

Not See It.

The Whole Country Of Languedoc Is Shaded With Olive Trees, The

Fruit Of Which Begins To Ripen, And Appears As Black As Sloes;

Those They Pickle Are Pulled Green, And Steeped For Some Time In

A Lye Made Of Quick Lime Or Wood Ashes, Which Extracts The Bitter

Taste, And Makes The Fruit Tender. Without This Preparation It Is

Not Eatable. Under The Olive And Fig Trees, They Plant Corn And

Vines, So That There Is Not An Inch Of Ground Unlaboured: But

Here Are No Open Fields, Meadows, Or Cattle To Be Seen. The

Ground Is Overloaded; And The Produce Of It Crowded To Such A

Degree, As To Have A Bad Effect Upon The Eye, Impressing The

Traveller With The Ideas Of Indigence And Rapacity. The Heat In

Summer Is So Excessive, That Cattle Would Find No Green Forage,

Every Blade Of Grass Being Parched Up And Destroyed. The Weather

Was Extremely Hot When We Entered Montpellier, And Put Up At The

Cheval Blanc, Counted The Best Auberge In The Place, Tho' In Fact

It Is A Most Wretched Hovel, The Habitation Of Darkness, Dirt,

And Imposition. Here I Was Obliged To Pay Four Livres A Meal For

Every Person In My Family, And Two Livres At Night For Every Bed,

Though All In The Same Room: One Would Imagine That The Further

We Advance To The Southward The Living Is The Dearer, Though In

Fact Every Article Of Housekeeping Is Cheaper In Languedoc Than

Many Other Provinces Of France. This Imposition Is Owing To The

Concourse Of English Who Come Hither, And, Like Simple Birds Of

Passage, Allow Themselves To Be Plucked By The People Of The

Country, Who Know Their Weak Side, And Make Their Attacks

Accordingly. They Affect To Believe, That All The Travellers Of

Our Country Are Grand Seigneurs, Immensely Rich And Incredibly

Generous; And We Are Silly Enough To Encourage This Opinion, By

Submitting Quietly To The Most Ridiculous Extortion, As Well As

By Committing Acts Of The Most Absurd Extravagance. This Folly Of

The English, Together With A Concourse Of People From Different

Quarters, Who Come Hither For The Re-Establishment Of Their

Health, Has Rendered Montpellier One Of The Dearest Places In The

South Of France. The City, Which Is But Small, Stands Upon A

Rising Ground Fronting The Mediterranean, Which Is About Three

Leagues To The Southward: On The Other Side Is An Agreeable

Plain, Extending About The Same Distance Towards The Mountains Of

The Cevennes. The Town Is Reckoned Well Built, And What The

French Call Bien Percee; Yet The Streets Are In General Narrow,

And The Houses Dark. The Air Is Counted Salutary In Catarrhous

Consumptions, From Its Dryness And Elasticity: But Too Sharp In

Cases Of Pulmonary Imposthumes.

It Was At Montpellier That We Saw For The First Time Any Signs Of

That Gaiety And Mirth For Which The People Of This Country Are

Celebrated. In All Other Places Through Which We Passed Since Our

Departure From Lyons, We Saw