Oct. 5.
To give a notion of the Bucentaur in one word, I should say that it is a state galley. The older one, of which we still have drawings, justified this appellation still more than the present one, which, by its splendour, makes us forget its original.
I am always returning to my old opinions. When a genuine subject is given to an artist, his productions will be something genuine also. Here the artist was commissioned to form a galley worthy to carry the heads of the republic on the highest festivals in honour of its ancient rule on the sea; and the problem has been admirably solved. The vessel is all ornament: we ought to say it is overladen with ornament. It is altogether one piece of gilt carving, for no other use but that of a pageant to exhibit to the people its leaders in right noble style. We know well enough that a people who likes to deck out its boats is no less pleased to see their rulers bravely adorned. This state galley is a good index to show what the Venetians were, and what they considered themselves.
Oct. 5. Night.
I have come home from a tragedy, and am still laughing; and I must at once make the jest secure upon paper. The piece was not bad. The author had brought together all the tragic matadors, and the actors played well. Most of the situations were well known, but some were new and highly felicitous. There are two fathers who hate each other; sons and daughters of these severed families, who respectively are passionately in love with each other; and one couple is even privately married. Wild and cruel work goes on; and at last nothing remains to render the young people happy, but to make the two fathers kill each other, upon which the curtain falls amid the liveliest applause. Now the applause becomes more vehement,
