The Letters of Elizabeth Barrett Browning, Volume II | Page 5

How glorious that cathedral is! worthy almost
of standing face to face with the snow Alps; and itself a sort of snow
dream by an artist architect, taken asleep in a glacier! Then the Da
Vinci Christ did not disappoint us, which is saying much. It is divine.
And the Lombard school generally was delightful after Bologna and
those soulless Caracci! I have even given up Guido, and Guercino too,
since knowing more of them. Correggio, on the other hand, is sublime
at Parma; he is wonderful! besides having the sense to make his little
Christs and angels after the very likeness of my baby.
From Milan we moved to Como, steamed down to Menaggio (opposite
to Bellaggio), took a calèche to Porlezza, and a boat to Lugano, another
calèche to Bellinzona, left Wiedeman there, and, returning on our steps,
steamed down and up again the Lago Maggiore, went from Bellinzona
to Faido and slept, and crossed the Mount St. Gothard the next day,
catching the Lucerne steamer at Fluellen. The scenery everywhere was
most exquisite, but of the great pass I shall say nothing--it was like
standing in the presence of God when He is terrible. The tears
overflowed my eyes. I think I never saw the sublime before. Do you
know I sate out in the coupé a part of the way with Robert so as to
apprehend the whole sight better, with a thick shawl over my head,
only letting out the eyes to see. They told us there was more snow than
is customary at this time of year, and it well might be so, for the
passage through it, cut for the carriage, left the snow-walls nodding
over us at a great height on each side, and the cold was intense.
Do you know we might yield the palm, and that Lucerne is far finer
than any of our Italian lakes? Even Robert had to confess it at once. I
wanted to stay in Switzerland, but we found it wiser to hasten our steps
and come to Paris; so we came. Yes, and we travelled from Strasburg to

Paris in four-and-twenty hours, night and day, never stopping except
for a quarter of an hour's breakfast and half an hour's dinner. So afraid I
was of the fatigue for Wiedeman! But between the unfinished railroad
and the diligence, there's a complication of risks of losing places just
now, and we were forced to go the whole way in a breath or to hazard
being three or four days on the road. So we took the coupé and resigned
ourselves, and poor little babe slept at night and laughed in the day, and
came into Paris as fresh in spirit as if just alighted from the morning
star, screaming out with delight at the shops! Think of that child! Upon
the whole he has enjoyed our journey as much as any one of us,
observing and admiring; though Robert and Wilson will have it that
some of his admiration of the scenery we passed through was pure
affectation and acted out to copy ours. He cried out, clasping his hands,
that the mountains were 'due'--meaning a great number. His love of
beautiful buildings, of churches especially, no one can doubt about.
When first he saw St. Mark's, he threw up his arms in wonder, and then,
clasping them round Wilson's neck (she was carrying him), he kissed
her in an ecstasy of joy. And that was after a long day's journey, when
most other children would have been tired and fretful. But the sense of
the beautiful is certainly very strong in him, little darling. He can't say
the word 'church' yet, but when he sees one he begins to chant. Oh, he's
a true Florentine in some things.
Well, now we are in Paris and have to forget the 'belle chiese;' we have
beautiful shops instead, false teeth grinning at the corners of the streets,
and disreputable prints, and fascinating hats and caps, and brilliant
restaurants, and M. le Président in a cocked hat and with a train of
cavalry, passing like a rocket along the boulevards to an occasional yell
from the Red. Oh yes, and don't mistake me! for I like it all extremely,
it's a splendid city--a city in the country, as Venice is a city in the sea.
And I'm as much amused as Wiedeman, who stands in the street before
the printshops (to Wilson's great discomfort) and roars at the lions. And
I admire the bright green trees and gardens everywhere in the heart of
the town. Surely it is a most beautiful city! And I like the restaurants
more than is reasonable; dining _à la carte_, and mixing up one's dinner
with heaps of newspapers, and the 'solution' by Emile de