We also made an interesting expedition one morning to the Venetian Glass and Mosaic Works on the Grand Canal. We here saw how the beautiful mosaics are designed and adjusted, and how the delicate, rainbow-tinted glass is blown and spun into any imaginable design one might desire. I brought away a fanciful little souvenir in the shape of a large head or top of a pin, on which my initials appeared in divers colours, interwoven with flowers by the intelligent workman.
We visited several palaces and churches, but found nothing of particular interest save some very beautiful silk tapestry, studded with precious stones, which covered the altar in the church of the Jesuits.
I do not think I should care to spend a very long period in the moated imprisonment of the Sun-girt City, especially during the summer, when canal malaria and fever is rife; and should certainly never think, like Shelley, of forming any plans "never to leave sweet Venice." I must, however, confess that for a certain time there is an irresistible attraction and fascination in the unique kind of life one is forced to lead here. The evenings are peculiarly enjoyable. The light blue sky of day deepens gradually through twilight into night; the stars shine out of its soft depths with a brilliant though cold effulgence, reflected glimmeringly in the surrounding waters, which flow in quiet stillness on every side. There is nothing around to disturb the silent eloquence of night, and the flow of thought and meditation.
After a long and tiring day of sight-seeing, and a re-invigorating dinner at the hotel, it is deliciously Venetian to rest in the evening, with windows open to the star-lit skies, and listen to the sweet serenading of a boatful of singers, who float on the waters near the hotel till a late hour at night, their gondola prettily illuminated with coloured lamps, and the soft liquid sound of their voices filling the air with melody.
The great place of resort is the Piazza of St. Mark's. Here, sipping our coffee and ices at Florian's, and listening to a good band of music, we saw a little of Venetian society, and had an opportunity of admiring some of the beautiful and dignified patrician dames of the city, who otherwise were scarcely ever visible. It was decidedly disappointing to find they had almost invariably discarded the graceful and becoming lace head-dress and mantilla, and adopted the French costume. We were much pleased and amused at the gaily dressed nurses, who, with their quaint silver head-dresses, and broad streaming ribbons, looked so good tempered, and showed such pride and pleasure in the lovely dark-eyed babes they carried; and we always looked out for the beautiful and picturesquely attired flower-seller, who presented her tiny bouquet with so charming a grace, and further bestowed a sweet smile on us in return for our franc. Flocks of the soft-plumed and ever-hungry St. Mark's pigeons would greet us, espying us from afar, circling round and almost burying us in their midst, delighted to perch on our hands and peck the grain we brought to throw them.
There was always a busy and moving scene in the adjoining piazzetta; swarms of gondolas awaiting your pleasure, under the gay sunlit skies, the gondoliers shouting, "Gon-dola! gon-dola!" in almost ceaseless strain. It is a good plan, when going on an excursion, to carefully select your gondola the night before. After breakfast, you will find it awaiting you handsomely decorated, its owner smartly dressed, Venetian sailor fashion, with blue and silver scarf; and, taking with you a basket of good things in the way of refreshments, away you glide for a day's genuine pleasure.
I am afraid the romance of the gondola days will be sadly invaded by the number of little "Citizen" steamers, which ply from pier to pier; but, as they will necessarily be confined to the traffic of the Grand Canal, the smaller canals will still be sacred to the sombre, silent gondola.
The day of our departure at last drew near, and we felt we must bid a reluctant farewell to—
"The marble city by the silent sea."
On the whole we had not found it a very dear place. The charges at Danieli's were moderate, and the hire of gondolas far cheaper than carriages elsewhere. There is also far less inducement to spend money than at Florence, Rome, and other places, for the shops are in a decided minority, and sight-seeing the order of the day. We spent our last evening in storing up in our minds all the pleasant memories of the past week, and—