They have an unlimited confidence in their rulers, who
live amongst them; and can desire only their utmost good. _How_ they are
governed, comes seldom into their heads to enquire; "_Che ne pensa
lu_[Footnote: Let _him_ look to that.]," says a low Venetian, if you ask
him, and humourously points at a Clarissimo passing by while you talk.
They have indeed all the reason to be certain, that where the power is
divided among such numbers, one will be sure to counteract another if
mischief towards the whole be intended.
Of all aristocracies surely this is the most rationally and happily, as
well as most respectably founded; for though one's heart revolts
against the names of Baron and Vassal, while the petty tyrants live
scattered far from each other, as in Poland, Russia, and many parts of
Germany, like lions in the desert, or eagles in the rock, secure in
their distance from equals or superiors; yet _here_ at Venice, where
every nobleman is a baron, and all together inhabit one city, no subject
can suffer from the tyranny of the rest, though all may benefit from the
general protection: as each is separately in awe of his neighbour, and
desires to secure his client's tenderness by indulgence, instead of
wishing to disgust him by oppression: unlike the state so powerfully
delineated by our incomparable poet in his Paulina,
Where dwelt in haughty wretchedness a lord,
Whose rage was justice, and whose law his word:
Who saw unmov'd the vassal perish near,
The widow's anguish, and the orphan's tear;
Insensible to pity--stern he stood,
Like some rude rock amid the Caspian flood,
Where shipwreck'd sailors unassisted lie,
And as they curse its barren bosom, die.
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