“Dear Nadejda Filaretovna,—The last day in Rome compensated for all my troubles, but it was also rather fatiguing. In the morning I had to go in search of the Symphony (No. 4), which had been sent from Clarens. I inquired at the post office, at the station, at various other offices. Everywhere they received me politely, looked for the parcel, and failed to find it. Imagine my anxiety. If the Symphony had been lost, I should never have had the energy to rewrite it from memory. At last I requested that it should be diligently sought for, and—behold the parcel was discovered! It was a great comfort.
“Afterwards I visited the Capitol with my brother. I found much that was interesting here and which touched me directly—for instance, the statue of the Dying Gladiator. I cannot say the same of the Venus of the Capitol, which still leaves me quite cold, as on my first visit. At two o’clock we went to the Palace of the Cæsars, and looked into the Villa Borghese as we passed, to see the collection of pictures. Here, too, I was capable of taking in some artistic impressions. One picture particularly attracted my attention—the Death of a Saint (Jerome, if I am not mistaken), by Domenicchino. But I must tell you frankly that I am no enthusiastic amateur of pictures, and I lack any profound insight into the subtleties of painting or sculpture. I soon get tired in the galleries. Among a number of pictures there are seldom more than two or three which remain firmly fixed in my mind’s eye; but these I study in every detail, and endeavour to enter into their spirit, while I run through the others with a superficial glance.... Besides the picture by Domenicchino, some of Raphael’s pleased me very much, especially the portraits of Cæsar Borgia and Sixtus V.[53]
“The grandest, the most overpowering, of all the sights I saw was the Palace of the Cæsars. What gigantic proportions, what wealth of beauty! At every step we are reminded of the past; we endeavour to reconstruct it and the further we explore it, the more vivid are the gorgeous pictures which crowd the imagination. The weather was lovely. Every moment we came upon some fresh glimpse of the city, which is as dirty as Moscow, but far more picturesquely situated, and possessing infinitely greater historical interest. Quite close by are the Colosseum and the ruined Palace of Constantine.[54] It is all so grand, so beautiful, so rare! I am very glad to have left Rome under this ineffaceable impression. I wanted to write to you in the evening, but after packing I was too tired to move a finger.
“At six o’clock this morning we arrived in Venice. Although I had not been able to close my eyes all night, and although it was still quite dark and cold when we got here, I was charmed with the characteristic beauty of the place. We are staying at the Grand Hôtel. In front of our windows is S. Maria della Salute, a graceful, pretty building on the Canale Grande.”
To N. F. Von Meck.
“Venice, November 16th (28th), 1877.
“ ... I have received a very comforting letter from my sister, and am busy with the orchestration of the first scene of the second act of my Oniegin.
“Venice is a fascinating city. Every day I discover some fresh beauty. Yesterday we went to the Church of the Frati, in which, among other art treasures, is the tomb of Canova. It is a marvel of beauty! But what delights me most is the absolute quiet and absence of all street noises. To sit at the open window in the moonlight and gaze upon S. Maria della Salute, or over to the Lagoons on the left, is simply glorious! It is very pleasant also to sit in the Piazza di San Marco (near the Café) in the afternoon and watch the stream of people go by. The little corridor-like streets please me, too, especially in the evening when the windows are lit up. In short, Venice has bewitched me. To-day I have been considering whether it would not be better to stay here than at Clarens—Clarens is quiet, cheap, and nice, but often dull; here nature is less beautiful, but there is more life and movement, and this is not of the kind that bewilders and confuses me.... To-morrow I will look for a furnished apartment. If I succeed in finding one—I shall be just as undecided as before.”
To N. F. von Meck.
“Venice, November 18th (30th), 1877.