Florence.
Having now crossed from the Adriatic to the Mediterranean, and travelled
through a considerable part of Italy, I acknowledge I have been agreeably
disappointed in finding the state of the poorer part of the inhabitants
less wretched than, from the accounts of some travellers, I imagined it
was; and I may with equal truth add, that although I have not seen so
much poverty as I was taught to expect, yet I have seen far more poverty
than misery. Even the extremity of indigence is accompanied with less
wretchedness here than in many other countries. This is partly owing
to the mildness of the climate and fertility of the soil, and partly
to the peaceable, religious, and contented disposition of the people.
The miseries which the poorer part of mankind suffer from cold, are,
perhaps, greater than those derived from any other source whatever.
But in Italy, the gentleness of the climate protects them from this
calamity nine months of the year. If they can gather as much wood as to
keep a moderate fire during the remaining three, and procure a coarse
cloke, they have little to fear from that quarter. Those who cannot get
employment, which is often the case in this country, and even those who
do not choose to work, which is the case with numbers all the world
over, receive a regular maintenance from some convent: with this, and
what little they can pick up otherwise, in a country where provisions
are plentiful and cheap, they pass through life, in their own opinion,
with more satisfaction than if they had a greater number of conveniencies
procured by much bodily labour. Whereas in Great Britain, Germany, and
other northern countries, the poor have no choice but to work; for if
they remain idle, they are exposed to miseries more intolerable than
the hardest labour can occasion to the laziest of mankind; they are
invaded at once by the accumulated agonies of hunger and cold; and if
they have ever had sufficient credit to contract a little debt, they
are continually in danger of being thrown into a jail among pickpockets
and felons. With respect to the lowest of the tradespeople and the
day-labourers in this country, their wages are certainly not high; nor
are they willing, by great efforts of industry, to gain all they might;
but what they do gain is never wasted in intemperance, but fairly spent
in their families on the real necessaries and comforts of life.
The Italians are the greatest loungers in the world, and while walking
in the fields, or stretched in the shade, seem to enjoy the serenity and
genial warmth of their climate with a degree of luxurious indulgence
peculiar to themselves. Without ever running into the daring excesses
of the English, or displaying the frisky vivacity of the French, or
the invincible phlegm of the Germans, the Italian populace discover a
species of sedate sensibility to every source of enjoyment, from which,
perhaps, they derive a greater degree of happiness than any of the other.
The frequent processions and religious ceremonies, besides amusing and
comforting them, serve to fill up their time, and prevent that ennui and
those immoral practices which are apt to accompany poverty and idleness.
It is necessary, for the quiet and happiness of every community, that the
populace be employed. Some politicians imagine, that their whole time
should be spent in gainful industry. Others think, that though the riches
of the state will not be augmented, yet the general happiness, which is a
more important object, will be promoted by blending the occupations of
industry with a considerable proportion of such superstitious ceremonies
as awaken the future hopes, without lulling the present benevolence,
of the multitude; but nobody can doubt, that in countries where, from
whatever cause, industry does not prevail, processions and other rites of
the same nature will tend to restrain the populace from the vices, and of
consequence prevent some of the miseries of idleness.
The peasantry of this country are unquestionably in a more comfortless
state than a benevolent mind could wish them. But, England and
Switzerland excepted, is not this the case all over Europe? In all the
countries I have seen, or had an account of, the husbandmen, probably the
most virtuous, but certainly the most useful part of the community, whose
labour and industry maintain all the rest, and in whom the real strength
of the state resides, are, by a most unjust dispensation, generally
the poorest and most oppressed. But although the Italian peasantry are
by no means in the affluent, independent situation of the peasantry of
Switzerland, and the tenantry of England, yet they are not subjected to
the same oppressions with those of Germany, nor are they so poor as those
of France.
Great part of the lands in Italy belong to convents; and I have observed,
and have been assured by those who have the best opportunities of
knowing, that the tenants of these communities are happier, and live more
at their ease, than those of a great part of the nobility. The revenues
of convents are usually well managed, and never allowed to be squandered
away by the folly or extravagance of any of its members; consequently
the community is not driven, by craving and threatening creditors, as
individuals frequently are, to squeeze out of their vassals the means
of supplying the waste occasioned by their own vanity and expence. A
convent can have no incitement to severe and oppressive exactions from
the peasants, except sheer avarice; a passion which never rises to such a
height in a society where the revenue is in common, as in the breast of
an individual, who is solely to reap the fruits of his own oppression.
The stories which circulate in Protestant countries, concerning the
scandalous debauchery of monks, and the luxurious manner in which they
live in their convents, whatever truth there may have been in them
formerly, are certainly now in a great measure without foundation. I
remember when I was at the Grande Chartreuse, near Grenoble, which has
a considerable district of land belonging to it, I was informed, and
this information was confirmed by what I saw, that those monks were
gentle and generous masters, and that their tenants were envied by all
the peasantry around, on account of the treatment they received, and
the comparatively easy terms on which they held their farms. From the
enquiries I have made in France, Germany, and Italy, I am convinced that
this is usually the case with those peasants who belong to convent lands;
and very often, I have been informed, besides having easy rents, they
also find affectionate friends and protectors in their masters, who visit
them in sickness, comfort them in all distresses, and are of service to
their families in various shapes.
I have been speaking hitherto of the peasantry belonging to convents; but
I believe I might extend the remark to the tenants of ecclesiastics in
general, though they are often represented as more proud and oppressive
masters than any class of men whatever; an aspersion which may have
gained credit the more easily on this account, that instances of cruelty
and oppression in ecclesiastics strike more, and raise a greater
indignation, than the same degree of wickedness in other men; they raise
a greater indignation, because they are more unbecoming of clergymen,
and they strike more when they do happen, because they happen seldomer.
The ambition of Popes some centuries ago, when the Court of Rome was in
its zenith, the unlimited influence and power which particular Churchmen
acquired in England and France, had those effects upon their actions
and characters, which ambition and power usually have on the characters
of men; it rendered them insolent, unfeeling, and persecuting. Yet, for
every cruel and tyrannical Pope that history has recorded, it will be
easy to name two or three Roman Emperors who have surpassed them in every
species of wickedness; and England and France have had Prime Ministers
with all the vices, without the abilities, of Wolsey and Richelieu.
Those who declaim against the wickedness of the clergy, seem to take it
for granted that this body of men were the authors of the most horrid
instances of persecution, massacre, and tyranny, over men’s consciences,
that are recorded in the annals of mankind; yet Philip II., Charles IX.
and Henry VIII. were not Churchmen; and the capricious tyranny of Henry,
the frantic fury of Charles, and the persevering cruelty of Philip, seem
to have proceeded from the personal characters of these Monarchs, or to
have been excited by what they considered as their political interest,
rather than by the suggestions of their Clergy.
As the subjects of the Ecclesiastical State are perhaps the poorest in
Italy, this has been imputed to the rapacious disposition which some
assert is natural to Churchmen. This poverty, however, may be otherwise
accounted for. Bishop Burnet very judiciously observes, that the subjects
of a government, which is at once despotic and elective, labour under
peculiar disadvantages; for an hereditary Prince will naturally have
considerations for his people which an elective one will not, “unless he
has a degree of generosity not common among men, and least of all among
Italians, who have a passion for their families which is not known in
other places[9].” An elective Prince, knowing that it is only during
his reign that his family can receive any benefit from it, makes all
the haste he can to enrich them. To this it may be added, that as Popes
generally arrive at Sovereignty at an age when avarice predominates in
the human breast, they may be supposed to have a stronger bias than
other Princes to that sordid passion; and even when this does not take
place, their needy relations are continually prompting them to acts
of oppression, and suggesting ways and means of squeezing the people.
Other causes might be assigned; but, that it does not originate from the
imputation above mentioned, seems evident from this, that the peasants
of particular ecclesiastics, and of the convents in the Pope’s dominions,
as well as in other countries, are generally less oppressed than those of
the lay lords and princes.
From what has been thrown out by some celebrated wits, and the
common-place invective of those who affect that character, one would be
led to imagine that there is something in the nature of the clerical
profession which has a tendency to render men proud and oppressive.
Such indiscriminating censure carries no conviction to my mind, because
it is contradicted by the experience I have had in life, and by the
observations, such as they are, which I have been able to make on human
nature. I do not mean, in imitation of the satirists above mentioned, to
put the Clergy of all religions on the same footing. My opportunities of
knowledge are too slender to justify _that_; my acquaintance with this
order of men having been in a great measure confined to those of the
Protestant Church, men of learning and ingenuity, of quiet, speculative,
and benevolent dispositions; it is usually, indeed, this turn of mind
which has inclined them to the ecclesiastical profession. But though my
acquaintance with the Roman Catholic Clergy is very limited, yet the few
I do know could not be mentioned as exceptions to what I have just said
of the Protestant; and, exclusive of all personal knowledge of the men,
it is natural to think that the habitual performance of the ceremonies
of the Christian religion, though intermingled with some superstitious
rites, and the preaching the doctrines of benevolence and good-will
towards men, must have some influence on the lives and characters
of those who are thus employed. It is a common error, prevailing in
Protestant countries, to imagine that the Roman Catholic Clergy laugh at
the religion they inculcate, and regard their flocks as the dupes of an
artful plan of imposition. By far the greater part of Roman Catholic
priests and monks are themselves most sincere believers, and teach the
doctrines of Christianity, and all the miracles of the legend, with a
perfect conviction of their divinity and truth. The few who were behind
the curtain when falsehood was first embroidered upon truth, and those
who have at different periods been the authors of all the masks and
interludes which have enriched the grand drama of superstition, have
always chosen to employ such men, being sensible that the inferior actors
would perform their parts more perfectly, by acting from nature and real
conviction. “Paulum interesse censes,” says Davus to Mysis, “ex animo
omnia ut fert natura, facias an de industria[10].”
The accounts we receive of their gluttony, are often as ill-founded as
those of their infidelity. The real character of the majority of monks
and inferior ecclesiastics, both in France and Italy, is that of a
simple, superstitious, well-meaning race of men, who for the most part
live in a very abstemious and mortified manner, notwithstanding what we
have heard of their gluttony, their luxury, and voluptuousness. Such
accusations are frequently thrown out by those who are ill entitled to
make them. I remember being in company with an acquaintance of yours,
who is distinguished for the delicacy of his table and the length of his
repasts, from which he seldom retires without a bottle of Burgundy for
his own share, not to mention two or three glasses of Champaign between
the courses. We had dined a few miles from the town in which we then
lived, and were returning in his chariot; it was winter, and he was
wrapped in fur to the nose. As we drove along, we met two friars walking
through the snow; little threads of icicles hung from their beards; their
legs and the upper part of their feet were bare, but their soles were
defended from the snow by wooden sandals. “There goes a couple of dainty
rogues,” cried your friend as we drew near them; “only think of the folly
of permitting such lazy, luxurious rascals to live in a State, and eat
up the portion of the poor. I will engage that those two scoundrels, as
lean and mortified as they look, will devour more victuals in a day, than
would maintain two industrious families.” He continued railing against
the luxury of those two friars, and afterwards expatiated upon the
epicurism of the clergy in general; who, he said, were all alike in every
country, and of every religion. When we arrived in town, he told me he
had ordered a little nice supper to be got ready at his house by the time
of our return, and had lately got some excellent wine, inviting me at the
same time to go home with him; for, continued he, as _we have driven_
three miles in such weather, _we stand in great need_ of some refreshment.
That in all Roman Catholic countries, and particularly in Italy, the
clergy are too numerous, have too much power, too great a proportion
of the lands, and that some of them live in great pomp and luxury, is
undeniable. That the common people would be in a better situation, if
manufactures and the spirit of industry could be introduced among them,
is equally true; but, even as things are, I cannot help thinking that the
state of the Italian peasantry is preferable, in many respects, to that
of the peasants of many other countries in Europe. They are not beaten by
their ecclesiastical lords, as those of Germany are by their masters, on
every real or imaginary offence. They have not their children torn from
them, to be sacrificed to the pomp, avarice, or ambition of some military
despot; nor are they themselves pressed into the service as soldiers for
life.
In England and in France the people take an interest in all national
disputes, and consider the cause of their country or their Prince as
their own; they enter into the service voluntarily, and fight with
ardour for the glory of the country or King they love. Those ideas enable
them to submit to a thousand hardships without repining, and they feel
the sensations of happiness in the midst of toil, want, and danger. But
in Germany, where the passions are annihilated, and a man is modelled
into a machine before he is thought a good soldier, where his blood
is sold by the Prince to the highest bidder, where he has no quarrel
with the enemy he murders, and no allegiance to the Monarch for whom he
fights, the being liable to be forced into such a service, is one of
the most dreadful of all calamities. Yet a regiment of such compelled
soldiers, dressed in gaudy uniform, and powdered for a review, with music
sounding and colours flying, makes a far more brilliant appearance than a
cluster of peasants with their wives and children upon a holiday. But if
we could examine the breasts of the individuals, we should find in those
of the former nothing but the terror of punishment, hatred of their
officers, distrust of each other, and life itself supported only by the
hope of desertion; while the bosoms of the latter are filled with all the
affections of humanity, undisturbed by fear or remorse.
[9] Vide Bishop Burnet’s Travels.
[10] Andria Terentii.