The sun. [volume] (New York [N.Y.]) 1833-1916, 1906-07-22


Sutherland family dated from khis perio'
and led rather moro than two years later
whom he had attained his majority, to. hi
marriage with Lady Elizabeth. :
III.
In 1912 our author, accompanied by hh
tutor. J. 8. Howson, subsequently, Dean o.
Chester, wen abroad for the Aitf tlme ane
spent tho ensuing winter 10; t1ome. II
seemed strange enough to him ID hls old az
to recall how absolutely different everything
then wa In travelling life! from what IL hai
since become: The first step Of ths pros.
pective tourists was to buy N I6ndon a
large yellow chariot. In which they posted
to Dover. and after traversing Tho Channel
posted from Calais, first to Paris and then
all the way through France to Ma, seilles
The young Scotohman had readsmuch, a.
we have said, about the FrenchSRevolution
and he feeling OF abhorrence aroused IN
him for Paris poisoned any pleasure he
might otherwise have had In the beauty
Of the city or. ita contents. The vision Of
Mario Antoinette a. portrayed in the pas
sionate and touching oratory Of Burke
foated before him when he looked at the
Petit Trianon. and an intense hatred and
disgust for the brutality Of her jailers and
butchers Allied him to the brim. II was not
until he found himself amid the stately
becchee and oaks Of Fontainebleau that
be felt as II he had escaped from the pol
luted atmosphere Of revolutionary, France.
IL was In o massive bit Of Roman masonry
at Lyons that the young Scotch traveller
first came In contact with o conorete me-
mortal Of Roman power, and, fresh as he
was from the pages Of Gibbon. he looked
around him with reverence on the remains
OF one Of the great settlements In Gaul. At
Avignon he breathed for the first time the
balmy air and beheld the glorious light and
sunshine OF the south. At Marseilles, tho
next station On his route, the travelling
carriage was put aboard q steamer for
Genoa. Tha pure and soft cobalt OF the
Mediterranean was. Of course, now TO the
tourist, and he sat all day looking into IL
over the side Of the vessel. After touching
at Genoa our author pursued his way to
Civita Vecchia. whence he posted to Rome.
where he was TO spend three months. He
recalls that tho house OF the American
sculptor Story was an agreeable resort, but
he adds that during his first visit to the
Eternal City there was not q single man
or woman whose acquaintance exercised
any influence upon him.
On the whole his stay at this time in Rome
had but n great Joy for him, and that was
his drives in the Campagna. He frankly
says that neither architecture nor painting
gave him one-half a. much pleasure. He
was soon tired Of the galleries, but never
tired Of the wonderful plain to tho east and
south of Rome, which, with its exquisite
>At@.l-- -Al-I H. H. --Ak Liz -..Alf---
Of the Alban hills. seemed to him. a. 1t
seems to most onlookers, at once the most
interesting historically. andthe most beau
tiful view In Europe. In the early spring Of
1s4s our author posted to Naples, where he
spent some weeks, and had the good fortune
to witness an eruption Of Vesuvius. An q
sight he was disappointed In Pompeii-
with the smallness Of the and the low
ness Of the walls Of the ancient houses.
On the other hand. there WA one scene In tho
Neapolitan region that tried very hard his
prefercnoefor Tor tho Roman ampegna namely,
the three temples Of Postum, TO- which he
drove from Salerno. He records that no
other triumph Of human architecture has
ever produced tho same effect upon him.
From Naples he proceeded by way Of Aes.
sina and Syracuse to Malta; which; by
strange lapse Of memory. bs suppoees' 10
have been tsnantsd by the knights Tenn
plars, instead az by the Knights Of 81. \
John H~ospitallor.' & -. - ~. 4
In the course Of the same spring he visited
Tuscany, which, by adopting the sea route
from Marseilles to Civfta Veoohia, he had
been compelled to skip, and felt for the first
time In Florence the high enjoyment In
pure art which nothing but a gradual eduoa-
ton In It can develop. Our suthor oon-
fesses that st. Peters at Rome never gaye |
him any feeling except that Of vastness, but |
that from the moment when he turned tho
corner Of the narrow street In Florence which |
opens on the great Piazza, wherein he saw
at a glance Brunelleschi's Duomo, Giotto's
Campanile and the Baptistery. he felt at once
that he was in the presence Of the majesty |
Of pure beauty. It has always since
appeared to him that the peculiar curvature
Of the Duomo OF Florence is by far the most
beautiful In the world. For tho Florentine |
paratively little, his art education not hav-
yet advanced far enough to enable him
to appreciate the pictures and frescoe OF
the early Italian schools. As for the famous
Venus de Medici, he could not then admire
II, nor was ne 0Ver dItof WdfQ dOi0 10 40 90. \
At Pisa he did not fail to note, besides its
Duomo and the Leaning Tower. the inter-
esting fact that the fate Of a onoe mighty
city has been changed for the worse since
.edieval times by the operation of geolog-
Ioal causes. The Arno at Florence does not
generally seem a very powerful river, yet
the mass Of mud which 1t sweeps down with
Il year after year fromthe rich valley through
which II runs has suficed to make Pisa an
instead Of q great seaport and TO
the onoe proud rival Of Genoa almost
10 the condition Of a stranded town. s-,
The Duke tells us that he has never ceased
% remember with pleasure that he ap-
preached Venice in the old fashioned way.
when as yet no railway viaduct spanned
Ter long inviolable lagoons. Her dream
ike beauty rose. as 1t had risen before
Byron, gradually out Of the CLASSY water
n neared the outskirts and entered
he Grand Canal In that most dreamy |
II all ~conveyapoes, the smooth gliding and
,ilert gopdola. To his previous descrip-
ion Of the sense Of beauty experienced on
irst seeing the great group Of the Floren-
Inc Piazza our author would make orc
EXCEPTION, as to it's immense superiority |
% any other buildings in the world. The