or REGATTA, a species of amusement peculiar to the republic of Venice. This spectacle has the power of exciting the greatest emotions of the heart, admiration, enthusiasm, a sense of glory, and the whole train of our best feelings. The grand regata is only exhibited on particular occasions, as the visits of foreign princes and kings at Venice.

It is difficult to give a just idea of the ardour that the notice of a regata spreads among all classes of the inhabitants of Venice. Proud of the exclusive privilege of giving such a spectacle, through the wonderful local circumstances of that city, they are highly delighted with making preparations a long time before, in order to contribute all they can towards the perfection and enjoyment of the spectacle. A thousand interests are formed and augmented every day; parties in favour of the different competitors who are known; the protection of young noblemen given to the gondoliers in their service; the desire of honours and rewards in the aspirants; and, in the midst of all this, that ingenious national industry, which awakes the Venetians from their habitual indolence, to derive advantage and benefits from the agitation of the moment; all these circumstances united give to the numerous inhabitants of this lively city a degree of spirit and animation which render it during that time a delightful abode in the eyes of the philosopher and the stranger. Crowds of people flock from the adjacent parts, and travellers joyfully repair to this scene of gaiety and pleasure.

Although it is allowable for any man to go and inscribe his name in the list of combatants until the fixed number is complete, it will not be amiss to remark one thing, which has relation to more ancient times. The state of a gondolier* is of much consideration among the people; which is very natural, that having been the primitive condition of the inhabitants of this country. But, besides this general consideration, there are among them some families truly distinguished and respected by their equals, whose antiquity is acknowledged, and who, on account of a succession of virtuous men, able in their profession, and honoured for the prizes they have carried off in these contests, form the body of noble gondoliers; often more worthy of that title than the higher order of nobility, who only derive their honours from the merit of their ancestors, or from their own riches. The consideration for those families is carried so far, that, in the disputes frequently arising among the gondoliers in their ordinary passage of the canals, we sometimes see a quarrel instantly made up by the simple intervention of a third person, who has chanced to be of this revered body. They are rigid with respect to misalliances in their families, and they endeavour reciprocally to give and take their wives among those of their own rank. But we must remark here, with pleasure, that these distinctions infer no inequality of condition, nor admit any opprobrium of inferiors, being founded solely on laudable and virtuous opinions. Distinctions derived from fortune only, are those which always outrage nature, and often virtue.

In general, the competitors at the great regatas are chosen from among these families of reputation. As soon as they are fixed upon for this exploit, they spend the intermediate time in preparing themselves for it, by a daily, assiduous, and fatiguing exercise. If they are in service, their masters during that time not only give them their liberty, but also augment their wages. This custom would seem to indicate, that they look upon them as persons consecrated to the honour of the nation, and under a sort of obligation to contribute to its glory.

At last the grand day arrives. Their relations assemble together; they encourage the heroes, by calling to their minds the records of their families; the women present the oar, beseeching them, in an epic tone, to remember that they are the sons of famous men, whose steps they will be expected to follow; this they do with as much solemnity as the Spartan women presented the shield to their sons, bidding them either return with or upon it. Religion, as practised among the lower class of people, has its share in the preparations for this enterprise. They cause masses to be said; they make vows to some particular church; and they arm their boats for the contest with the images of those saints who are most in vogue. Sorcerers are not forgotten upon this occasion. For gondoliers who have lost the race often declare, that witchcraft had been practised against them, or certainly they must have won the day. Such a supposition prevents a poor fellow from thinking ill of himself; an opinion that might be unfavourable to him another time. The course is about four miles. The boats start from a certain place, run through the great winding canal, which divides the town into two parts, turn round a picket, and, coming back the same way, go and seize the prize, which is fixed at the acutest angle of the great canal, on the convex side, so that the point of sight may be the more extended, and the prize seized in the sight of the spectators on both sides.

According to the number of competitors, different races are performed in different sorts of boats; some with one oar and others with two. The prizes proposed are four, indicated by four flags of different colours, with the different value of the prizes marked upon them.—These flags, public and glorious monuments, are the prizes to which the competitors particularly aspire. But the government always add to each a genteel sum of money; besides that the conquerors, immediately after the victory, are surrounded by the beau monde, who congratulate and make them presents; after which they go, bearing their honourable trophy in their hand down the whole length of the canal, and receive the applause of innumerable spectators.

This grand canal, ever striking by the singularity and beauty of the buildings which border it, is, upon these occasions, covered with an infinity of spectators, in all sorts of barges, boats, and gondolas. The element on which they move is scarcely seen; but the noise of oars, the agitation of arms and bodies in perpetual motion, indicate the spectacle to be upon the water. At certain distances, on each side of the shore, are erected little amphitheatres and scaffoldings, where are placed bands of music; the harmonious sound of which predominates now and then over the buzzing noise of the people. Some days before a regata, one may see on the great canal many boats for pleasure and entertainment. The young noble, the citizen, the rich artizan, mounts a long boat of fix or eight oars; his gondoliers decorated with rich and singular dresses, and the vessel itself adorned with various fluffs. Among the nobles there are always a number who are at a considerable expense in these decorations; and at the regata itself exhibit on the water personages of mythologic story, with the heroes of antiquity in their train, or amuse themselves with representing the costumes of different nations: in short, people contribute with a mad sort of magnificence, from all quarters, to this masquerade, the favourite diversion of the Venetians. But these great machines, not being the least in motion on account of their ornaments, are not merely destined to grace the show: they are employed at the regata, at every moment, to range the people, to protect the course, and to keep the avenue open and clear to the goal. The nobility, kneeling upon cushions at the prow of their vessels, are attentive to these matters, and announce their orders to the most remote, by darting at them little gilded or silvered balls, by means of certain bows, with which they are furnished on this occasion. And this is the only appearance of coercion in the Venetian police on these days of the greatest tumult: nor is there to be seen, in any part of the city, a body of guards or patrol, nor even a gun or a halbert. The mildness of the nation, its gaiety, its education in the habit of believing that the government is ever awake, that it knows and sees everything; its respectful attachment to the body of patricians; the sole affect of certain officers of the police in their robes, dispersed in different places, at once operate and explain that tranquillity, that security, which we see in the midst of the greatest confusion, and that surprising docility in so lively and fiery a people. Regatas have been attempted on the river Thames, but they were but humble imitations of the Venetian amusement.