The central Presbyterian. [volume] (Richmond, Va.) 1856-1908, 1881-12-21

inS tne SllenC, lll-ISnteQ boat, we were
led irresistibly to romance, and it was
not difficult for us to imagine that we
were In a floating hearse, and were being
drawn onward through city of the dead,
an illusion which is heighted by the i'm
perceptlble movement of the boat, the
night-gloom, the desolate palaces, the
half ruined windows, the low and shad-
owy arches, and the murmur of the wa
ters as they plash against the broken
marble steps-like tear falling on tear.
This craft is a fit companion for adven.
ture and romance. We understand now
more vividly than ever before, Shaks-
peare's Moor and Merchant of Venice,
Victor Hugos Angelo, and the dramas
OF Byron. They were cradled in the
mysterious shadows of these gondolas.
From the station to the hotel seems an
extremely long distance, and impatient
of the low and ill-lighted saloon, we
emerge and stand erect to gain better
view OF this strange and unique city. We
feel that the boatman standing at the end
Of the boat and handling his single oar
might be Charon and these the waters of
the Styx, so sombre and bituminous are
they and so prevalent is the sentiment of
gloom. The streets of water are unEght-
ed save by the dull lamp of the gondola
passing so silently by, and the hig walls
OF the great buildings but deepen the
darkness of the night. 1t is as if the city
was without inhabitants. Over the arches
OF the bridges living beings do indeed oc-
casionally pass, but it is not difficult to
imagine them to be unreal as the strange
reflections caused by the vapors of the
air. The silence is broken only by the
ripple of the oar, or the cry of the gon-
dolier, sharp and shrill as the note of
wild sea-bird, by which he warns at
every corner his fellow craftsmen in Or
der to prevent collision.
At length we emerge from the tortu-
Gus labyrinth of narrow waterways and
enter
The Grand Canal
where, by the light of the stars, we gaze
with astonishment upon the shafts of
twisted columns, the plinths and pedes-
tails, the gothic roses, and arabesque win
dows which mount above the water
Soon, however, the gondola is lost again
amid the maze of narrow streets, and all
the beautiful decorations disappear from
our view, the while we are involved
deeply in mental study as to how the
gondolier, balancing himself on the fur
thest extremity of the long boat and using
the oar only on one side, can possibly
guide his craft with such precision as to
glide safely by the passing boat or avoid
by hairsbreadth the jutting bridges and
corners of stone These Gondolieri form
distinct population, but they are no
longer gay sailors singing Venetian airs
and reciting the verses of Tasso. The
detection of the stream of human migra-
tlon towards America and the west has
ruined the prosperity of Venice and
turned the life of this worthy and indus
trlous class of Venetians into hard and
bitter struggle. That struggle has been
rendered desperate of late by the intro
ductlon of steam vessels upon the grand
canal. AT this time the gondoliers are
lndulglng In a strike against this invasion
OF their ancient rights, but we fear it will
be In vain. Political economy is ruth
less: What protest of special class ever
avalled to stem the general progress, or to
undo the incidental fatality? We fear
the gondolier will find it an unequal
struggle, and must soon, like the wellers
of the land, be improved off the face of
the water. The gondolier descends from
line of ancestors as long as the dilapi-
dated Patricians, but is nobler charac-
ter. His whole fortune is in his boat,
which is worth, perhaps, 5000, and re-
qulres an additional expenditure of $50
yearly for repairs. He pays in addition
a tax to the municipality according to the
tragltto or station to which he is allo-
Gated, and he is obliged ODE there all
and every day not only, but also every
third night. During the summer months
he gains four to five francs per diem, in
the winter almost nothing. The food of
the family, when they have food, consists
of polenta and handful of small fish.
On feast days, if the gondolier has been
fortunate, they eat little rice, and this,
however, is an exceptional luxury which
they can rarely afford. And yet these
men, who from years end to years end
would be supposed, according to the no.
tions of an American laborer, to starve,
are able each day to row, without an ap.
parent effort, for many hours, and are well
set, strong, and muscular. Physically,
intellectually, and morally, they compare
advantageously with the deseendents of
the Doges, and are infinitely superior to
the curious creatures who spend most of
their time seated on a chair, with their
feet on q eepOrd ona IN tbo ,,,o.oa II c,l