INTRODUCTION xlix

and the death of Carlo Zeno mark categorically the point at which the history of Venice begins to decline and fall; but, on the other hand, the transition from the Gothic style to that of the Renaissance undoubtedly coincides with a radical change in the character of the Venetian people and in the views and aspirations of the Republic.”¹

Ruskin’s work may properly be considered, therefore, to have thrown important light on Venetian history. In regard to Venetian architecture it has been as a revelation. The success of his work in this respect tends to obscure its value. For two generations past Venice has been seen through Ruskin’s eyes; it is forgotten that his vision was individual and original. He produced something of the same effect in relation to the architecture of Venice that Turner produced in relation to her scenery of sea and sky. The Venice of all the painters of to-day, whether with the brush or in words, is the Venice of Turner-a city of enchanted colour; but in the eighteenth century the popular Venice was that of Canaletto-a city of murky shadows. When we now read in The Seven Lamps of Architecture that the Ducal Palace is “a model of all perfection,”² we may or may not entirely agree, but the judgment does not surprise as a paradox. And when we are told that the façade of St. Mark’s is “a lovely dream,”³ we are most of us inclined to acquiesce, and few, if any, are startled into indignation. But when Ruskin wrote, the architects of the time regarded such opinions as indicating the wildest caprice, if not as evidence of insanity.⁴ Professional opinion was that St. Mark’s and the Ducal Palace were as ugly and repulsive as they were contrary to rule and order.⁵ The general public did not, perhaps, entirely share such views, but Gibbon is worth citing as an example of educated and cultured opinion in the eighteenth century:-

“Of all the towns in Italy,” he writes to his stepmother on April 22, 1765, “I am the least satisfied with Venice. Objects which are only singular without being pleasing produce a momentary surprise which soon gives way to satiety and disgust. Old, and in general, ill-built houses, ruined pictures, and stinking ditches, dignified with the pompous denomination of canals, a fine bridge spoilt by two rows of houses upon it, and a large square decorated with the worst architecture I ever saw.”⁶

¹ Translated from an article in the Nuovo Archivio Veneto, vol. xix. (1900), subsequently issued as a pamphlet, p. 2.

² Vol. VIII. p. 111.

³ Vol. VIII. p. 206.

⁴ See the passages cited in Vol. IX. pp. xliii., xliv., 55 n.

⁵ See Vol. VIII. pp. 206, 207.

⁶ Private Letters of Edward Gibbon, edited by R. E. Prothero, 1896, i. 75. See also the extract from Lady Craven’s letter in Præterita, ii. ch. iii. § 55. But see the contrary opinion of Mrs. Piozzi (Thrale), cited below, p. 62.

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