This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 3.0 Unported License.
The original letter is unlocated, a copy, transcription, or published version survives
Gregorian
This letter is part of the Primary Texts section of the Thomas Gray Archive.
XML created for the Thomas Gray Archive.
This letter is part of the correspondence calendar of the complete correspondence of Thomas Gray. The calendar contains detailed bibliographic records for all known original, copied, or published letters written by or to the poet as well as the full-text, where available. Each record is accompanied by digitised images of the manuscript, where available, or digitised images of the first printed edition.
My instructions, of which you are so desirous, are two-fold: the first part relates to what is past, and that will be rather diffuse: the second, to what is to come; and that we shall treat more succinctly, and with all due brevity.
First, when you come to Paris you will not fail to visit the cloister of the Chartreuse, where Le Sueur (in the history of St. Bruno) has almost equalled Raphael. Then your Gothic inclinations will naturally
lead you to the Sainte Chapelle built by St. Louis: in the treasury is preserved one of the noblest gems of the Augustan age. When you
take a trip into the country, there is a fine old chapel at Vincennes with admirable painted windows; and at Fontainbleau, the remains
of Francis the First's magnificence might give you some pleasure. In your way to Lyons you will take notice of the view over the Saone,
from about Tournus and Macon. Fail not to walk a few miles along the banks of the Rhone, down the river. I would certainly make a
little journey to the Grande Chartreuse, up the mountains: at your return out of Italy this will have
little effect. At Turin you will visit the Capuchins' convent just without the city, and the Superga at no great distance, for the sake
of the views. At Genoa observe the Terreno of the Palace Brignoli, as a model of an apartment elegantly disposed in a hot climate. At
Parma you will adore the great Madonna and St. Jerom, once at St. Antonio Abbate, but now (I am told) in the Ducal Palace. In the
Madonna della Steccata observe the Moses breaking the tables, a chiaroscuro figure of the Parmeggiano
at too great a height, and ill lighted, but immense. At the Capuchins, the great Pietá of Annib. Caracci; in the Villa Ducale, the room painted by Carlo Cignani; and the last
works of Agostino Caracci at Modena. I know not what remains now,
the flower of the collection is gone to Dresden. Bologna is too vast a subject for me to treat: the palaces and churches are open; you
have nothing to do but to see them all. In coming down the Apennine you will see (if the sun shines) all Tuscany before you. And so I
have brought you to Florence, where to be sure there is nothing worth seeing. Secondly,
Pray present my most respectful compliments to Mr. Weddell. I conclude when the winter is over, and you have seen Rome and Naples, you will strike out of the beaten path of English travellers, and see a little of the country, throw yourselves into the bosom of the Appennine, survey the horrid lake of Amsanctus (look in Cluver's Italy), catch the breezes on the coast of Taranto and Salerno, expatiate to the very toe of the continent, perhaps strike over the Faro of Messina, and having measured the gigantic columns of Girgenti, and the tremendous caverns of Syracusa, refresh yourselves amidst the fragrant vale of Enna. Oh! che bel riposo!