Excerpt
Fair Italy, the land of song and cradle of the Arts, has been so often written about, and so well described both in prose and in verse, that I feel there is a presumption in my attempting to say anything fresh of that classic land, its art treasures, and its glorious past. But within the last few years a new Italy has sprung into existence—the dream of Cavour has been realized; and, contrary to all predictions, she has evinced a union and cohesiveness so complete as to surprise all, and possibly disappoint some who were jealous of her.
What was once a conglomeration of petty rival states is now one constitutionally governed kingdom. Italy has ceased to be only a geographical name; she is now a nation whose voice is listened to at the council tables of the Great Powers.
The old terms of Piedmontese, Tuscan, Lombard, and Neapolitan, have no longer aught but a local significance; from the Alps to Tarentum every one glories in the name of free united Italy, and feels proud of being an Italian.
Young Italy is so rapidly developing the resources of her gifted people and of her fruitful lands, that she daily becomes more interesting to all who sympathize with a free and vigorous country; more especially to the English, who have many interests in common with her, and few, if any, reasons to fear either antagonism or competition.
And the beautiful Riviera—
Where God's pure air, sweet flowers, blue sea and skies,Combine to make an earthly Paradise.Yes! the Riviera is certainly one of the loveliest spots on this fair earth, and is visited by streams of human beings, lovers of nature and students of art; but is more especially dear to the thousands of sickly invalids, who—
Journeying there from lands of wintry clime,Find life and health 'midst scenery sublime.But, to be truly candid, I must confess that, while humbly trusting I have succeeded in making this little book both interesting and instructive, one of the chief reasons for my putting pen to paper has been to make an effort, however feeble, to expose the deadly evils of the plague-spot of this paradise, Monte Carlo.
From this centre there circulates a gambling fever not only throughout the Riviera—from Cannes to Genoa—but everywhere its victims may carry it. After being stamped out from all the German watering-places, the demon "Play" has fixed his abode in this fair spot, in the very pathway of invalids and others, and, under the ægis of a corrupt prince and his subjects who share the proceeds of the gaming-tables, this valued health resort, which was surely designed by a beneficent Creator for the happiness of His creatures, is turned into a pandemonium.
"Base men to use it to so base effect."Few can be wholly unaware of the sad effects resulting from this gambling mania, whereby the happiness of many homes is wrecked, and thousands of our fellow-creatures are brought to ruin and a shameful end.
During the past season the public papers have teemed with instances of Monte Carlo suicides, the lifeless bodies of its victims frequently being found at early dawn in the charming gardens surrounding the Casino. The gen d'arme patrol is so accustomed to the occurrence, it is said, as to view the object with perfect sang froid, but, let us rather hope, with pitying eye.
It may possibly be said, Why all this virtuous indignation about Monte Carlo, when gambling, to a frightful extent, is carried on at our clubs and stock exchanges in England? I can only answer, two wrongs can never make one right; besides, Monte Carlo cannot be allowed to exist as an independent principality when conducted so dishonestly and detrimentally to the highest interests of humanity....