canopy over the altar, are of white marble or alabaster. They were divided in height into nine bands; the circumference of each band exhibits nine arches, supported on Corinthian columns, and a figure of rude workmanship under each arch. There are multitudes of other little particulars in this church, which are interesting to an observer on the spot, but would hardly be so to you who have never seen the edifice.
If, on entering the Place of St. Mark, under the arcades, where once stood the church of St. Geminiani, you keep to the left, and walk under the arcade on the northern side, you gradually obtain a view of the Ducal Palace. Another great edifice thus opening upon you, stimulates the imagination and enhances the beauty of this square. Still farther, you catch a view of the great harbour, and some of the fine buildings around it, which still increases the variety of the scene, without destroying its unity; and strengthens the sentiment. The Ducal Palace is even more ugly than any thing I have previously mentioned; it offers a double range of comparatively small arches, supporting a great wall with a few large windows in it. Considered in detail, I can imagine no alteration to make it tolerable, but if this lofty wall had been set back behind the two stories of little arches, instead of standing upon them, it would have been a very noble production. To recapitulate then, the leading points of my observations on this famous Place, its effect is produced by the impression of power and riches everywhere displayed, and by a certain justness of proportion (the result of accident, not of design) in the great masses, and this greatly heightened by the variety of scenery it displays. Take away the appearance of riches and power, and nothing remains; take away the justness of proportion, and you would have nothing that pleases. The union of the two is necessary to produce the impression which every body feels, and nobody can tell why. Some persons are of opinion that irregularity is a necessary part of its excellence. I am decidedly of a contrary sentiment, and am convinced that a regular design of the same sort would be far superior. Let an oblong of good architecture, but not very showy, conduct to a fine cathedral which should appear between two lofty towers, and have two obelisks in front; and on each side of the cathedral, let other squares partially open into the first, and one of these extend down to a harbour, or the sea-shore, and you would have a scene which might challenge any thing in existence. I would not carry my symmetry so far as to make these two subsidiary squares alike; they never come into one view, and for the sake of variety it is better that they should be different.
After St. Mark’s Place, and in some respects even superior to it, the scenery which most demands admiration is that of the harbour, and of the canal of the Giudecca, which is a continuation of it. This affords a succession of great objects, and of some individually very fine ones; as the Zecca, the Prigione, the church of St. George, and that of the Redentore. Other buildings not so good in themselves, yet by their mass and character, have an importance which adds greatly to the magnificence of the Place. Such are the Ducal Palace, and the church of Sta. Maria di Salute. In what does this character consist? I should answer that it arose from the expression of unity of design, combined with considerable size. The Ducal Palace, with all its defects, has not that of being frittered into a number of small parts, into wings, pavillions, and corps de logis. It is evidently one great public building; and a large church, especially a church with a dome, must be very badly managed not to have that appearance. The irregular winding of the canal of the Giudecca presents these objects in different points of view, while it always offers in itself, a fine expanse of water. In a straight street or canal, when the parts are large and well disposed, a more magnificent effect is produced, than it is perhaps possible to obtain by curved lines; but if the artist fail in this one point, nothing remains. Among the numerous combinations arising from irregular forms, it is hardly possible that there should not be some good ones, and perhaps the variety and succession of scenery thus displayed, is well worth the happiest effort of magnificence produced by straight lines, and may even, by the reiterated impression, produce upon the whole a sentiment of still greater sublimity. After the canal of the Giudecca, comes the great canal, which however is comparatively very small, though large in relation to the little Rios which divide Venice into a thousand islets. It winds like an S, and may vary from about 100 to 160 or 180 feet in width, and the number of fine houses which come successively into view, and the combinations they display with the smaller buildings, form a continued source of interest and pleasure. Few of these palaces are of good architecture, some of very bad; others are whimsical, but present among their strange forms many happy ideas. One very prevailing taste, has been to put several windows very near together in the centre, while those of the sides are wide apart. Sir J. E. Smith complains that it cuts the building into two, and it does so when adopted in every story, but in the best examples this arrangement is only followed in the principal, or at most in the two principal floors, leaving greater repose and plainness to the basement and upper story, and the effect is then very pleasing. In the earlier examples of this sort, the windows are Gothic-headed, and frequently trefoiled. The architects immediately before Sansovino made them round-headed, and introduced a little more of Roman architecture in the details, without altering the general disposition; and Sansovino himself frequently exhibits traces of this taste. The fashion seems to have prevailed all through the Venetian states, and in its earlier forms, Verona exhibits better specimens than Venice itself. The architects of that period did not confine themselves to one disposition, but endeavoured sometimes to produce the appearance of a centre, by other arrangements of the windows, but still without making any break in the wall. Whatever the architecture of these Venetian palaces may be, their size and number produce a great show of magnificence. Venice appears the residence of princes. It must be confessed that in their present state, they seem to be the dwellings of poor princes, but perhaps the ideas of wealth and power which no longer exist, are not less interesting than those of present prosperity. They are indeed of a very different sort, but they harmonize better with the fallen state of Venice; fallen probably to rise no more; for the Austrian government bestows its favour on other ports; and amidst the political revolutions with which Europe is still menaced, one can hardly imagine one which would restore her power and consequence to Venice.
SKETCH OF A HOUSE AT VERONA.
LETTER XIX.
VENICE.
Venice, 28th Nov. 1816.
I had heard so much of the canals and gondolas of Venice, that I was rather surprised to find that I could go by land to any part of the city, except the Giudecca. It is indeed sometimes round about, and the alleys, for there are no streets, are narrow, crooked, and intricate. Yet in this cold weather I generally prefer encountering all their difficulties, to being half frozen in a gondola. These gondolas, at least the smaller ones, consist of a wherry with a little black box, into which you must enter backwards, because it would be exceedingly difficult to turn round. They are rowed by one man, who places his oar, not behind, but at the side; and it is surprising with what dexterity he will direct his boat, by means so apparently insufficient. The larger boats have of course two rowers, but in all cases they stand to row, looking forward, and throwing the whole weight of their body on the oar. The alleys sometimes open into little yards, (they cannot be denominated squares,) the Venetian name of which is Campi; but enough of wandering about the streets; I will now return to the buildings.
I have already given some description of St. Mark; there are other churches of the middle ages at Venice, but I think none of them of very high interest. One of the finest is the Santa Maria Gloriosa de’ Frari, the first stone of which was laid in 1250, but it was more than a century on hand. The design is said to be of Niccolò Pisano, a name which seems to be applied with great readiness to edifices of this period. The external appearance is very plain, with three circular windows in front, opening into the church, and a little one into the roof. The cornices are ornamented with simple pointed arches, and with intersecting semicircular ones. The back of the choir, in some points of view, forms a picturesque composition. Internally, it has a nave, with side aisles and a transept. The disposition resembles that of Sta. Anastasia at Verona, and the edifice belongs to the same class of architecture; but the parts are smaller, and there are more of them. The perspective is sadly cut up by iron ties, which however appear to be very necessary. The clerestory windows have been renewed; the piers are mostly round, they are seven in number on each side of the nave, and as many in the choir. The stalls of the choir dated 1468, present some beautifully carved foliage, of excellent design, and in entire relief.
Somewhere near the second altar on the right hand, were deposited the remains of Titian, who you know, died of the plague, and in consequence of the confusion of the time, the precise spot is not known. Some years ago, a monk of the Conventualists put up a Latin rhiming inscription. It is said that Canova has been employed to make a monument more worthy of the artist, but it has never been erected.