Chapter v.
Oswald pursued his journey through the Marches of Ancona, and theEcclesiastical States, without any thing attracting his observation, orexciting his interest: this was occasioned as well by the melancholyhabit of his soul, as by a certain natural indolence, from which he wasonly to be aroused by strong passions. His taste for the arts had notyet unfolded itself; he had never dwelt but in France, where society isall in all, and in London, where political interests absorb almost everyother: his imagination, concentrated in his sufferings, had not yetlearnt to take pleasure in the wonders of nature and the masterpieces ofart.
The Count d'Erfeuil traversed every town with the "Traveller's Guide" inhis hand, and had at once the double pleasure of losing his time inseeing every thing, and of declaring, that he had seen nothing whichcould excite admiration in any person acquainted with France. The_ennui_ of Count d'Erfeuil discouraged Oswald; he, besides, entertainedprejudices against the Italians and against Italy: he did not yetpenetrate the mystery of this nation or of this country;--a mysterywhich must be comprehended by the imagination, rather than by thatfaculty of judgment which is particularly developed by an Englisheducation.
The Italians are much more remarkable for what they have been, and forwhat they might be than for what they actually are. The deserts whichsurround the city of Rome, that land which, fatigued with glory, seemsto hold in contempt the praise of being productive, presents but anuncultivated and neglected country to him who considers it with regardto utility. Oswald, accustomed from his infancy to the love of order andpublic prosperity, received, at first, unfavourable impressions intraversing those deserted plains which announce the approach to thatcity formerly the queen of the world: he blamed the indolence of theinhabitants and that of their rulers. Lord Nelville judged of Italy asan enlightened administrator, the Count d'Erfeuil as a man of the world:thus the one from reason, and the other from levity, were not sensibleof that effect which the country about Rome produces upon theimagination, when it is impressed with the recollections, thesympathies, the natural beauties and the illustrious misfortunes whichspread over these regions an undefinable charm.
The Count made ludicrous lamentations on the environs of Rome. "What,"said he, "no country house, no carriage, nothing that announces thevicinity of a great city? Heavens! what a melancholy prospect!" Inapproaching Rome, the postillions cried, with transport, "_See! See,there is the dome of St Peter's_!" It is thus that the Neapolitans shewmount Vesuvius, and the sea excites the same emotions of pride in theinhabitants of the coast. "One would have thought they had seen the domeof _Les Invalides_;" cried the Count d'Erfeuil. This comparison, morepatriotic than just, destroyed the impression which Oswald might havereceived on beholding this magnificent wonder of human creation. Theyentered Rome, not on a fine day--not on a fine night--but on a gloomyevening, which tarnished and confounded every object. They traversed theTiber without remarking it; they arrived at Rome by the Porta del Popolowhich conducts immediately to the Corso, to the largest street of themodern city, but to that part of Rome which possesses the leastoriginality, because it resembles more the other cities of Europe.
Crowds were walking in the streets; the puppet shows and the charlatanswere formed in groups in the square, where stands the column ofAntoninus. All the attention of Oswald was captivated by the objectsnearest to him. The name of Rome no longer vibrated through his soul; hefelt nothing but that isolation which oppresses the heart when we entera strange city, when we behold that multitude of people to whom ourexistence is unknown, and who have no interest in common with us. Thosereflections, so sad for every man, are still more so for the English,who are accustomed to live among themselves, and who with difficultyenter into the manners of other nations. In the vast caravansary of Romeeverything is foreign, even the Romans seem to inhabit there not as thepossessors, _but like pilgrims who repose beneath the ruins_[3]. Oswald,oppressed with painful sensations, shut himself up at home, and went notout to see the city. He was very far from thinking that this country,which he entered under such sadness and dejection of spirits, would soonbecome for him a source of so many new ideas and enjoyments.
FOOTNOTE:
[3] This reflection is taken from a letter on Rome, by M. de Humboldt,brother of the celebrated Traveller, and Prussian Minister at Rome. Itis difficult to find anywhere a man whose conversation and writingsbespeak more knowledge and ideas.
Book ii.
CORINNE AT THE CAPITOL.