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

Pleas'd With Thyself, Whom All The World Can Please. . . .

Such Inveteracy (Like Dr. Johnson's Against Swift) Was Not

Unnaturally Suspected By Friends In England Of Having Some

Personal Motive. In His Fifteenth Letter Home, Therefore,

Smollett Is Assiduous In Disclaiming Anything Of The Kind. He

Begins By Attempting An Amende Honorable, But Before He Has Got

Well Away From His Exordium He Insensibly And Most

Characteristically Diverges Into The More Congenial Path Of

Censure, And Expands Indeed Into One Of His Most Eloquent

Passages--A Disquisition Upon The French Punctilio (Conceived Upon

Lines Somewhat Similar To Mercutio's Address To Benvolio), To

Which Is Appended A Satire On The Duello As Practised In France,

Which Glows And Burns With A Radiation Of Good Sense, Racy Of

Smollett At His Best.

To Eighteenth Century Lovers The Discussion On Duelling Will

Recall Similar Talks Between Boswell And Johnson, Or That Between

The Lieutenant And Tom In The Seventh Book Of Tom Jones, But,

More Particularly, The Sermon Delivered By Johnson On This

Subject A Propos Of General Oglethorpe's Story Of How He Avoided

A Duel With Prince Eugene In 1716. "We Were Sitting In Company At

Table, Whence The Prince Took Up A Glass Of Wine And By A Fillip

Made Some Of It Fly In Oglethorpe's Face. Here Was A Nice

Dilemma. To Have Challenged Him Instantly Might Have Fixed A

Quarrelsome Character Upon The Young Soldier: To Have Taken No

Notice Of It Might Have Been Counted As Cowardice. Oglethorpe,

Therefore, Keeping His Eye On The Prince, And Smiling All The

Time, As If He Took What His Highness Had Done In Jest, Said,

"Mon Prince" (I Forget The French Words He Used), "That's A Good

Joke; But We Do It Much Better In England," And Threw A Whole

Glass Of Wine In The Prince's Face. An Old General Who Sat By

Said, "Il A Bien Fait, Mon Prince, Vous L'avez Commence," And

Thus All Ended In Good Humour."

In Letter Xiii. Smollett Settles Down To Give His Correspondents

A Detailed Description Of The Territory And People Of Nice. At

One Time It Was His Intention To Essay Yet Another Branch Of

Authorship And To Produce A Monograph On The Natural History,

Antiquities, And Topography Of The Town As The Capital Of This

Still Unfamiliar Littoral; With The Late-Born Modesty Of

Experience, However, He Recoils From A Task To Which He Does Not

Feel His Opportunities Altogether Adequate. [See P. 152.] A

Quarter Of Smollett's Original Material Would Embarrass A

"Guide"-Builder Of More Recent Pattern.

Whenever He Got Near A Coast Line Smollett Could Not Refrain From

Expressing Decided Views. If He Had Lived At The Present Day He

Would Infallibly Have Been A Naval Expert, Better Informed Than

Most And More Trenchant Than All; But Recognizably One Of The

Species, Artist In Words And Amateur Of Ocean-Strategy. [Smollett

Had, Of Course, Been Surgeon's Mate On H.M.S. Cumberland, 1740-41.]

His First Curiosity At Nice Was Raised Concerning The Port,

The Harbour, The Galleys Moored Within The Mole, And The Naval

Policy Of His Sardinian Majesty. His Advice To Victor Amadeus Was

No Doubt As Excellent And As Unregarded As The Advice Of Naval

Experts Generally Is. Of More Interest To Us Is His Account Of

The Slave-Galleys. Among The Miserable Slaves Whom "A British

Subject Cannot Behold Without Horror And Compassion," He Observes

A Piedmontese Count In Turkish Attire, Reminding The Reader Of

One Of Dumas' Stories Of A Count Among The Forcats. To Learn That

There Were Always Volunteer Oarsmen Among These Poor Outcasts Is

To Reflect Bitterly Upon The Average Happiness Of Mankind. As To

Whether They Wore Much Worse Off Than Common Seamen In The

British Navy Of The Period (Who Were Only In Name Volunteers And

Had Often No Hope Of Discharge Until They Were Worn Out) Under

Such Commanders As Oakum Or Whiffle [In Roderick Random.] Is

Another Question. For Confirmation Of Smollett's Account In

Matters Of Detail The Reader May Turn To Aleman's Guzman

D'afarache, Which Contains A First-Hand Description Of The Life

On Board A Mediterranean Slave Galley, To Archenholtz's Tableau

D'italie Of 1788, To Stirling Maxwell's Don John Of Austria

(1883, I. 95), And More Pertinently To Passages In The Life Of A

Galley Slave By Jean Marteilhe (Edited By Miss Betham-Edwards In

1895). After Serving In The Docks At Dunkirk, Marteilhe, As A

Confirmed Protestant, Makes The Journey In The Chain-Gang To

Marseilles, And Is Only Released After Many Delays In Consequence

Of The Personal Interest And Intervention Of Queen Anne. If At

The Peace Of Utrecht In 1713 We Had Only Been As Tender About The

Case Of Our Poor Catalan Allies! Nice At That Juncture Had Just

Been Returned By France To The Safe-Keeping Of Savoy, So That In

Order To Escape From French Territory, Marteilhe Sailed For Nice

In A Tartane, And Not Feeling Too Safe Even There, Hurried Thence

By Smollett's Subsequent Route Across The Col Di Tende. Many

Europeans Were Serving At This Time In The Turkish Or Algerine

Galleys. But The Most Pitiable Of All The Galley Slaves Were

Those Of The Knights Of St. John Of Malta. "Figure To Yourself,"

Wrote Jacob Houblon [The Houblon Family, 1907 Ii. 78. The

Accounts In Evelyn And Goldsmith Are Probably Familiar To The

Reader.] About This Year, "Six Or Seven Hundred Dirty Half-Naked

Turks In A Small Vessel Chained To The Oars, From Which They Are

Not Allowed To Stir, Fed Upon Nothing But Bad Biscuit And Water,

And Beat About On The Most Trifling Occasion By Their Most

Inhuman Masters, Who Are Certainly More Turks Than Their Slaves."

After Several Digressions, One Touching The Ancient Cemenelion, A

Subject Upon Which The Jonathan Oldbucks Of Provence Without

Exception Are Unconscionably Tedious, Smollett Settles Down To A 

Capable Historical Summary Preparatory To Setting His Palette For

A Picture Of The Nissards "As They Are." He Was, As We Are Aware,

No Court Painter, And The Cheerful Colours Certainly Do Not

Predominate. The Noblesse For All Their Exclusiveness Cannot

Escape His Censure. He Can See That They Are Poor (They Are

Unable To Boast More Than Two Coaches Among Their Whole Number),

And He Feels Sure That They Are Depraved. He Attributes Both

Vices Unhesitatingly To Their Idleness And To Their Religion. In

Their Singularly Unemotional And Coolly Comparative Outlook Upon

Religion, How Infinitely Nearer Were Fielding And Smollett Than

Their Greatest Successors, Dickens And Thackeray, To The Modern

Critic Who Observes That There Is "At Present Not A Single

Credible Established Religion In Existence." To Smollett

Catholicism Conjures Up Nothing So Vividly As The Mask Of Comedy,

While His Native Calvinism Stands For The Corresponding Mask Of

Tragedy. [Walpole's Dictum That Life Was A Comedy To Those Who

Think, A Tragedy For Those Who Feel, Was Of Later Date Than This

Excellent Mot Of Smollett's.] Religion In The Sunny Spaces Of The

South Is A "Never-Failing Fund Of Pastime." The Mass (Of Which He

Tells A Story That Reminds Us Of Lever's Micky Free) Is Just A

Mechanism Invented By Clever Rogues For An Elaborate System Of

Petty Larceny. And What A Ferocious Vein Of Cynicism Underlies

His Strictures Upon The Perverted Gallantry Of The Mariolaters At

Florence, Or Those On The Two Old Catholics Rubbing Their Ancient

Gums Against St. Peter's Toe For Toothache At Rome. The Recurring

Emblems Of Crosses And Gibbets Simply Shock Him As Mementoes Of

The Bagne.

At Rome He Compares A Presentment Of St. Laurence To "A Barbecued

Pig." "What A Pity It Is," He Complains, "That The Labours Of

Painting Should Have Been Employed On Such Shocking Objects Of

The Martyrology," Floggings, Nailings, And Unnailings...

"Peter Writhing On The Cross, Stephen Battered With Stones,

Sebastian Stuck Full Of Arrows, Bartholomew Flayed Alive," And So

On. His Remarks Upon The Famous Pieta Of Michael Angelo Are Frank

To The Point Of Brutality. The Right Of Sanctuary And Its

"Infamous Prerogative," Unheard Of In England Since The Days Of

Henry Vii., Were Still Capable Of Affording A Lesson To The Scot

Abroad. "I Saw A Fellow Who Had Three Days Before Murdered His

Wife In The Last Month Of Pregnancy, Taking The Air With Great

Composure And Serenity, On The Steps Of A Church In Florence."

Smollett, It Is Clear, For All His Philosophy, Was No Degenerate

Representative Of The Blind, Unreasoning Seventeenth-Century

Detestation Of "Popery And Wooden Shoes."

Smollett Is One Of The First To Describe A "Conversazione," And

In Illustration Of The Decadence Of Italian Manners, It Is

Natural That He Should Have A Good Deal To Tell Us About The

Cicisbeatura. His Account Of The Cicisbeo And His Duties, Whether

In Nice, Florence, Or Rome, Is Certainly One Of The Most 

Interesting That We Have. Before Smollett And His Almost

Contemporary Travel Correspondent, Samuel Sharp, It Would

Probably Be Hard To Find Any Mention Of The Cicisbeo In England,

Though The Word Was Consecrated By Sheridan A Few Years Later.

Most Of The "Classic" Accounts Of The Usage Such As Those By Mme.

De Stael, Stendhal, Parini, Byron And His Biographers Date From

Very Much Later, When The Institution Was Long Past Its Prime If

Not Actually Moribund. Now Smollett Saw It At The Very Height Of

Its Perfection And At A Time When Our Decorous Protestant

Curiosity On Such Themes Was As Lively As Lady Mary Montagu Had

Found It In The Case Of Fair Circassians And Turkish Harems Just

Thirty Years Previously. [A Cicisbeo Was A Dangler. Hence The

Word Came To Be Applied Punningly To The Bow Depending From A

Clouded Cane Or Ornamental Crook. In Sixteenth-Century Spain,

Home Of The Sedan And The Caballero Galante, The Original Term

Was Bracciere. In Venice The Form Was Cavaliere Servente. For A

Good Note On The Subject, See Sismondi's Italian Republics, Ed.

William Boulting, 1907, P. 793.] Like So Much In The Shapes And

Customs Of Italy The Cicisbeatura Was In Its Origin Partly Gothic

And Partly Oriental. It Combined The Chivalry