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    Mat 17, 1856.] __ THE LEADER. __ _ 475

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    MARGARET FULLER'S LETTERS FROM ITALY. At...

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    Ubicini's Letters On Turkey. Leoot* On, ...

    craee of God , prospered well , lie had been able , out of bis savings , to purchase a country-house , where he and bis family came to enjoy tbe fine season . The travellers congratulated him on his happiness ; and one of them having made some exclamation about the beauty of tbe site , he immediately launched into a tirade against the tyranny of the Turks : — "Barbarians , that they were ! scattering on all sides r uin and desolation , and that too over a country so bountifully treated by Nature ! " And yet "what they saw was nothing . His visitors , he said , should be on th e spot some- six . weeks later , when tbe fruits of all kinds would be mature , and the now tranqilil landscape would swarm with multitudes of country-people gathering in the harvest . Thence , gliding imperceptibly from the elegy to the idyl , he commenced an animated description of the details of the scene . Nothing was wanting : the songs of the reapers—the golden ears falling beneath their sickle—the rich gum of the mastic shrub dropping into osier baskets—the joyful shouting of the children the arch , frolics of the young girls—the circling dances that concluded the day . It was a complete picture of the golden age .

    Having concluded , he arose , and courteous l y invited his " illustrious" visitors to refresh themselves at his house , which was but a few hundred yards distant . Their r > ath led across an extensive field of wheat , and through orchards of luxuriant fruittrees , bordered by hedges of myrtle . Everything-, as the merchant informed them , was his property-The house itself , surrounded and half-concealed by orange-trees , was constructed of wood , according to the custom of the country , but very spacious and convenient . The customary glyco ( sweetmeats ) , coffee , and pipes , having been handed round , the merchant resumed his favourite theme , and recommenced his complaints against the tyranny of the Turks , blind to the astonishment of his guests , who marvelled at an oppression which raised its victims to such an enviable prosperity .

    This , and a multitude of sketches introduced by M . Ubicini to illustrate the happy condition of the Ottoman Empire under Mohammedan domination , would prove , not that the Christians in general , or the Greeks specially , Lave idle hands , but that they are energetic , enterprising , and disposed to peaceable pursuits . There is a remarkable disparity , however , between M . Ubieini ' s account of the flourishing state of Turkey and the reports of numerous French and English writers . As he quotes Eton as the sole panegyrist of the modern Greek people , we must suppose him ignorant of many authentic works published in this country since the date of the Hellenic revolution . We do not make these remarks with the object of disparaging M . Ubieini ' s work . The Letters , probably , will have an extensive circulation , which they deserve , from the abundance of minute and interesting information they present . It is necessary to point out , therefoi-e , that M . Ubicini writes in the spirit of an advocate ; that his knowledge and his ingenuity are displayed exclusively on one side of a question which must ^ continue , for years , to interest the nations and governments of Western Europe .

    Mat 17, 1856.] __ The Leader. __ _ 475

    Mat 17 , 1856 . ] __ THE LEADER . __ _ 475

    Margaret Fuller's Letters From Italy. At...

    MARGARET FULLER'S LETTERS FROM ITALY . At Home and Abroad ; or , Things and Thoughts in America and Europe . By Margaret Fuller Ossoli . Sampson Low and Co . Evkry reader of Margaret Fuller ' s Life must have felt the superiority of the letters she wrote from Italy over her earlier journals and correspondence . A straining after some unattained effect had given way to calm vigour , and magniloquence to noble simplicity . It was clear that the blossoming time of her nature had come . Her affections had been drawn into their proper channel ; her intellect had found its proper soil in the deep rich loam of European civilization , and her wide sympathies had found a grand definite object in the struggles of the Italian people . bher bro

    In the present volume of selections from her writings , edited y - ther , it is again the letters written from Italy which chiefly arrest us . They have indeecf a double value , a value not only biographical , but historical . A description , however fragmentary and imperfect , of the events in Rome from 1847 to 1849 , written on the spot by a foreign resident who could both feel and think forcibly , must have an interest quite apart from any special interest in the writer . It will bring those events nearer to the imagination of the ordinary reader , and help him to make a picture of what has hitherto perhaps been a rough diagram in his mind ; and to the historian in search of materials it is likely to contribute some valuable touches . These lettex-s from Italy were written , appai-ently with haste and with many interruptions , for the JS ' ew York Tribune . They have no great merit considered as literature , and we could probably have afforded to neglect them , if Margaret Fuller ' s manuscript History of the Italian Involution had been rescued from the waves ; but being , as they are , the only result left to us of her experience and observation in Romethey are precious .

    , Though believing thoroughly in the excellent intentions of Pi « s IX ., she had from the first no faith in the permanence of such paradoxes as a liberal Pope and a reforming Komanism . Hear her describe an occasion on which these paradoxes were very strikingly symbolized—the festival of the Bambino in the church of Ara Cceli : — The noble stair wliich descends from the great door of this church to the foot of the Capitol , a stair made from fragments of the old imperial time , —was flooded with people ; the street below was a rapid river also , whose waves were men . The ceremonies ' bean with s lendid music from the organ , pealing sweetly long and repeated

    g p Invocations . Aa if answering to this call , the world camo-in , many dignitarieH , the Ctonaervatoxi ( I think conHervativos are the same everywhere , official or no ) , and did homage to the image ; then men in white and gold , with the candles they arc bo fond Iiare of burning by dnylight , aa if the poorest artificial were better than the greatest natural light , uplifted high above themselves the baby , with its gilded robes and crown , and made twice the tour of the church , passing twice the column labelled "From the Home of Augustus , " while the bund played—what ?—tho Hymn to Pius IX . and " Sons of Rome , awake ! " Never was a crueller comment upon the irreconcilablenefla of these two things . Itomo seeks to reconcile reform and

    priestcraft . The English in Rome were anything but admirable in Margaret Fuller ' s eyes ; she often bursts into indig nant description of their coldness and selfishness . For example : — It ia droll to remember our reading in tho clans-hook , "Ay , down to tho diint with thorn , hIuvc ^ a . s they aro ; " — to think how bittor tho English were on tho JtuliuiiH who succumbed , and see how they hato those who resist . And thoir cowardice hero in Italy in ludicrous . It > a

    they who run away at the least intimation of danger , —it is they -who invent all the " fe , fo , fum" stories about Italy , —it is they who write to the Times and elsewhere that they dare not for their lives stay in Rome , where I , a woman walk ever ywhere alone , and all the little children do the same , with their nurses . On another occasion she gives an amusing specimen of the false stories to which she refers . A foreign journal stated that there were red flags , in all the houses in Rome , meaning to imply that the Romans were athirst for blood . The simple fact was , that these . flags were put up at the entrance ot those streets where there was no barricade , as a signal to coachmen and horsemen that they might pass freely ! But she is not less caustic on the weaknesses of her own countrymen , than on the weaknesses of the English . Here is a touch very characteristic of a traveller from the land of " stump orators : "After this was over the Pope went to the Gesii , a veiy rich church belonging to the Jesuits , to officiate at Vespers , and we followed . The niusic was beautiful , and the effect of the . church , with its richly-painted dome and altar-piece in a blaze of light , while the assembly were in a sort of brown darkness , was very fine .

    A number of Americans there , new arrivals , kept requesting in the midst of the music to know when it would begin . " Why , this is it , " some one at last had the patience to answer ; " you are hearing Vespers now . "What , " they replied , "is there no oration , no speech ! " So deeply rooted in the American inind is the idea that a sermon is the only real worship ! In her remonstrances with her countrymen for their want of sympathy for the struggling Italians , she mentions an appeal which ought to go home to the English conscience as well as the American . " Some of the lowest of the people , " she says , " have asked me , ' Is it not true that your country had a war to become free ? ' ' Yes . ' ' Then why do they not feel for us ? ' " She observed what went forward in the Roman streets with the feeling of an artist , as well as of one who " loved the people well , " and her descriptions have often a fine mixture of the pathetic and the picturesque . This , of the departure of Garibaldi and his soldiers , after the French had taken possession of Rome , is perhaps the finest of all : —

    Toward the evening of Monday , the- 2 nd of July , it was known that the Frenc / i were preparing to eross the river and take possession of all the city . I went into the Corso with some friends ; it was filled with citizens and military . The carriage was stopped by the crowd near the Doria palace ; the lancers of Garibaldi galloped along in full career . I longed for Sir Walter Scott to be on earth again , and see them ; all are li ght , athletic , resolute figures , many of the forms of the finest manly beauty of the South , all sparkling with its genius and ennobled by the resolute spirit , ready to dare , to do , to die . We followed them to the piazza of St . John JLateran . Never have I seen a sight so beautiful , so romantic , and so sad . Whoever knows Home knows the peculiar solemn grandeur of that piazza , scene of the first triumph of Rienzi , and whence may be seen the magnificence of the " mother of all churches , " the bapistry with its porphyry columns , the Santa Scala with its glittering mosaics of the early ages , the obelisk standing fairest of any of those most imposing monuments of Rome , the view through the gates of the Campagna , on that side so richly strewn

    with ruins . The sun was setting , the crescent moon rising , the flower of the Italian youth were marshalling in that solemn p ' ace . They had been driven from every other spot where they had offered their hearts as bulwarks of Italian independence ; in this last stronghold they had sacrificed hecatombs of their best and bravest in that cause ; they must now go , or remain prisoners and slaves . Where go , they knew not ; for except distant Hungary there is not now a spot which would receive them , or where they can act as honour commands . They had all put on the beautiful dress of the Garibaldi legion , the tunic of bright red cloth , the Greek cap , or else round hat with Puritan plume . Their long hair was blown back from resolute faces ; all looked full of courage . They had counted the cost before they entered on this perilous struggle ; they had weighed life and all its material advantages against liberty , and

    made their election ; they turned not back , nor flinched , at this bitter crisis . I saw the wounded , all that could go , laden upon their baggage cars ; some were already pale and fainting , st ill they wished to go . I saw many youths , born to rich inheritance , carrying in a handkerchief all their worldly goods . The women were ready ; their eyes too were resolved , if sad . The wife of Garibaldi followed him on horseback . He himself was distinguished by the white tunic ; his look was entirely that of a hero of the Middle Ages , —his face . still young , for the excitements of Ins life , though so many , have all been youthful , and there is no fatigue upon his brow or cheek . Fall or stand , one sees in him a man engaged in the career for which he is adapted by nature , lie went upon the parapet , and looked upon the road with a spy-glass , and , no obstruction being in sight , he turned his face for a moment back upon Rome , then

    led the way through the gate . Margaret Fuller is not often humorous , but here is a picture of a wet day in Rome , which is humorous by force of simple facts : — To return to Rome : what « Rome ! the fortieth day of rain , and damp , and abominable reeking odours , such as blessed cities swe . pt by the sca-breezc—bitter sometimes , yet indeed a friend—never know . It has been dark all day , though the lamp has only been lit half an hour . The music of the day has been , first , the atrocious anas , which last in tho Corso till near noon , though certainly less in virulence on rainy days . Then came the wicked organ-grinder , who , apart from the horror of the noise , grinds exactly tho same obsolete abominations us at home or in England , —the Copenhagen Waltz "Homesweet home" and all that ! The cruel chance that both an

    , , Eng lish my-lndy and a councillor from one of the provinces live opposite , kcepa him constantly before my window , hoping buiocchi . Within , the three pet dogs of my landlady , bereft of their walk , unable to employ their mitusrablo legs and eyes , exercise themselves by a continual barking , which is answered by all the dogs in the neighbourhood . An urchin returning from the luundre . su , delighted with the symphony , lays down bis white bundle in the gutter , neat s hiniHclf on tbe curb-stone , and attempts nn imitation of tho music of cats us a tribute to the concert . The door-bell rings Chief " Who is it V" cries the handmaid , with unweanablo senselessness , as if any one would answer , Jtoyue , or Enemy , instead of tho traditionary Amico Friend . Can it be , perchance , a letter , news of home , or some of the many friends who have neglected ho long to write or Home ray of hope to break the clouds of tho diflicult

    , Future ? Fur from it . Enter a man poiaoning me at once with the hiiioII o tho worst possible cigars , not to be driven out , insisting 1 shall look upon fnghtfu , Ul-cut cameos , and worse-designed moHuicH , made by some friend of Ihh , who works in a chamber , and will Hell ao cheap . Man of ill-odoura and moanoHt Binile ! I am no countess to be fooled by you . The earlier part of the volume ia occupied by her " Summer on the Lukeo "—sketches of an excursion in America—winch were published long before the writer cnino to Europe . But , aa we have said , the chief interest of tho volume lies in tho letters from Italy .

• Citation
  • Leader (1850-1860), May 17, 1856, page 19, in the Nineteenth-Century Serials Edition (2008; 2018) ncse-os.kdl.kcl.ac.uk/periodicals/l/issues/cld_17051856/page/19/