Another lady, whom I saw much of, one of the handsomest women in Ancona, was in such subjection to her mother-in-law, that she dared not sit down in her presence unless invited to do so; and, although the mother of a grown-up son, was as much looked after and interfered with as if she had been still a child. Sometimes her spirit rose, and she attempted to remonstrate, or invoked her husband's assistance, which was invariably the signal for his ordering his horse to be saddled, and going out for a ride—saying, he would have nothing to do with her quarrels with his mother. And this, and worse than this, is the true picture of an Italian Interior, where distrust, variance, and the weakening of domestic ties are the fruits of the lamentable system I have attempted to describe; which is further perpetuated in the training of the rising generation in the same errors and intolerance.
CHAPTER IV.
System pursued towards children—Results of Jesuit training—Anecdotes of the Sacré Cœur—A Contessina just out of the convent—Difficulty of giving a liberal education to young nobles—No profession open to them but the church—Their ignorance and idleness.
Amongst those Italians whose minds have risen superior to the disadvantages that surround them, the subject of education is often anxiously discussed. One evening, at my uncle's, we were conversing on this topic with the Conte Enrico A——, a highly intellectual and cultivated young man. He was a native of Ancona, but so far in advance of his townspeople, that he stood almost isolated amongst them. Even as an Englishman, he would have ranked high for mental acquirements, though all perhaps of too dreamy a cast. His was a sort of passive genius, which exhaled itself in poetry and melancholy reflections on the misery of his country, looking upon any individual exertion as impracticable. This want of energy in striving to carry out the superior workings of their intellect was, until lately, peculiar to most Italians who united reflection and high principle with patriotism and talent. For Central and Northern Italy, however, this remark no longer holds good. The moving spirits of the revolutions in Tuscany, the Duchies, and Romagna, have been precisely the most cultivated and moderate amongst the upper and middle classes; but the course recent events have taken in the Marche, confirms the opinion that the political leaders there are still men of thought rather than of action.
On the evening in question, I remember he told us we were not half thankful enough, nor proud enough, of the privilege of being Englishwomen, nor sensible of the blessings which from our very cradles that name conferred.
“As soon as English children can distinguish one letter from another,” he said, “books are put into their hands which inculcate truth, honour, courage; and thus is laid the basis of that education which has made your nation what it is—the envy and wonder of Europe.”
“That reminds me of a plan we have often talked of,” said Lucy D——: “it is that of translating some of our nice children's story-books, and getting them circulated through these States.”
“Ah! you forget,” he replied, shaking his head, “that before teaching the children, you must educate the mothers of Italy; or else your efforts will be paralysed by the ignorance and folly that would be arrayed against you.”
“Besides you forget,” said my uncle, looking up from his paper, “that the mothers of Italy have very little to do with the education of their children: your convents and seminaries relieve them of that task.”
“Too true,” said the count. “As our fathers and grandfathers did before us, so also must we: and that is why, at seven or eight years old, our boys are sent to Jesuit colleges; while our girls, at even an earlier age, are placed in nunneries to learn from women perpetually secluded in the cloister, the duties that are to fit them for wives and mothers in the world.”