Before simple good sense managed to prevail and to enforce the suppression of these useless carcasses, there were long discussions in the senate, and those who opposed the measure took their principal ground of opposition in the necessity of respecting and conserving all the institutions of olden times.  That is the disease of persons who can never identify themselves with the successive improvements born of reason and experience; worthy persons who ought to be sent to China, or to the dominions of the Grand Lama, where they would certainly be more at home than in Europe.

That ground of opposition to all improvements, however absurd it may be, is a very powerful one in a republic, which must tremble at the mere idea of novelty either in important or in trifling things.  Superstition has likewise a great part to play in these conservative views.

There is one thing that the Republic of Venice will never alter:  I mean the galleys, because the Venetians truly require such vessels to ply, in all weathers and in spite of the frequent calms, in a narrow sea, and because they would not know what to do with the men sentenced to hard labour.

I have observed a singular thing in Corfu, where there are often as many as three thousand galley slaves; it is that the men who row on the galleys, in consequence of a sentence passed upon them for some crime, are held in a kind of opprobrium, whilst those who are there voluntarily are, to some extent, respected.  I have always thought it ought to be the reverse, because misfortune, whatever it may be, ought to inspire some sort of respect; but the vile fellow who condemns himself voluntarily and as a trade to the position of a slave seems to me contemptible in the highest degree.  The convicts of the Republic, however, enjoy many privileges, and are, in every way, better treated than the soldiers.  It very often occurs that soldiers desert and give themselves up to a ‘sopracomito’ to become galley slaves.  In those cases, the captain who loses a soldier has nothing to do but to submit patiently, for he would claim the man in vain.  The reason of it is that the Republic has always believed galley slaves more necessary than soldiers.  The Venetians may perhaps now (I am writing these lines in the year 1797) begin to realize their mistake.

A galley slave, for instance, has the privilege of stealing with impunity.  It is considered that stealing is the least crime they can be guilty of, and that they ought to be forgiven for it.

“Keep on your guard,” says the master of the galley slave; “and if you catch him in the act of stealing, thrash him, but be careful not to cripple him; otherwise you must pay me the one hundred ducats the man has cost me.”

A court of justice could not have a galley slave taken from a galley, without paying the master the amount he has disbursed for the man.

As soon as I had landed in Venice, I called upon Madame Orio, but I found the house empty.  A neighbour told me that she had married the Procurator Rosa, and had removed to his house.  I went immediately to M. Rosa and was well received.  Madame Orio informed me that Nanette had become Countess R., and was living in Guastalla with her husband.