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Chapters (26)
  1. Feature
  2. PREFACE
  3. VENICE
  4. THE GRAND CANAL
  5. VENICE: AN EARLY IMPRESSION
  6. TWO OLD HOUSES AND THREE YOUNG WOMEN
  7. CASA ALVISI
  8. FROM CHAMBÉRY TO MILAN
  9. THE OLD SAINT-GOTHARD LEAVES FROM A NOTE-BOOK
  10. ITALY REVISITED
  11. A ROMAN HOLIDAY
  12. ROMAN RIDES
  13. ROMAN NEIGHBOURHOODS
  14. THE AFTER-SEASON IN ROME
  15. FROM A ROMAN NOTE-BOOK
  16. A FEW OTHER ROMAN NEIGHBOURHOODS
  17. A CHAIN OF CITIES
  18. SIENA EARLY AND LATE
  19. THE AUTUMN IN FLORENCE
  20. FLORENTINE NOTES
  21. TUSCAN CITIES
  22. OTHER TUSCAN CITIES
  23. RAVENNA
  24. THE SAINT'S AFTERNOON AND OTHERS
  25. You are reading a Deluxe Edition:
  26. Copyright

I am putting here, however, my cart before my horse, for the hour just glanced at was but a final tag to a day of much brighter curiosity, and which seemed to take its baptism, as we passed through prodigious perched and huddled, adorably scattered and animated and even crowded Tivoli, from the universal happy spray of the drumming Anio waterfalls, all set in their permanent rainbows and Sibylline temples and classic allusions and Byronic quotations; a wondrous romantic jumble of such things and quite others - heterogeneous inns and clamorous guingettes and factories grabbing at the torrent, to say nothing of innumerable guides and donkeys and white-tied, swallow-tailed waiters dashing out of grottos and from under cataracts, and of the air, on the part of the whole population, of standing about, in the most characteristic contadino manner, to pounce on you and take you somewhere, snatch you from somebody else, shout something at you, the aqueous and other uproar permitting, and then charge you for it, your innocence aiding. I'm afraid our run the rest of the way to Subiaco remains with me but as an after-sense of that exhilaration, in spite of our rising admirably higher, all the while, and plunging constantly deeper into splendid solitary gravities, supreme romantic solemnities and sublimities, of landscape. The Benedictine convent, which clings to certain more or less vertiginous ledges and slopes of a vast precipitous gorge, constitutes, with the whole perfection of its setting, the very ideal of the tradition of that extraordinary in the romantic handed down to us, as the most attaching and inviting spell of Italy, by all the old academic literature of travel and art of the Salvator Rosas and Claudes. This is the main tribute I may pay in a few words to an impression of which a sort of divine rightness of oddity, a pictorial felicity that was almost not of this world, but of a higher degree of distinction altogether, affected me as the leading note; yet about the whole exquisite complexity of which I can't pretend to be informing.