e most of their smattering of
letters. Love was the great game; every woman had lovers, every married
woman openly flaunted her _cicisbeo_ or _cavaliere servente_.

The older portion of the middle class was still moderate and temperate,
contented to live in the old fashion, eschewing all interest in
politics, with which it was dangerous for the ordinary individual to
meddle; but the new leaven was creeping through every level of society.
The sons and daughters of the _bourgeoisie_ tried to rise in the social
scale by aping the pleasant vices of the aristocracy. They deserted the
shop and the counting-house to play cards and strut upon the piazza.
They mimicked the fine gentleman and the gentildonna, and made
fashionable love and carried on intrigues. The spirit of the whole
people had lost its elevation; there were no more proud patricians, full
of noble ambitions and devoted zeal of public service; it was hardly
possible to get a sufficient number of persons to carry on public
business. It is a contemptible indictment enough; yet among all this
degenerate life, we come upon something more real as we turn to the
artists. They were very much alive. In music, in literature, and in
painting, new and graceful forms of art were emerging. Painting was not
the grand art of other days; it might be small and trivial, but there
grew up a real little Renaissance of the eighteenth century, full of
originality and fire, and showing a reaction from the pompous and banale
style of the imitators.

The influence of the "lady" was becoming increasingly felt by society.
Confidential little boudoirs, small and cosy apartments were the mode,
and needed decorating as well as vast salas. The dainty luxury of gilt
furniture, designed by Andrea Brustolon and upholstered in delicate
silks, was matched by small, attractive works of art. Venice had lost
her Eastern trade, and as the East faded out of her scheme of life, the
West, to which she now turned, was bringing her a different form of
art. The great reception rooms were still suited by the grandiose
compositions of Ricci, Piazetta, and Pittoni, but another genre of
charming creations smiled from the brocaded alcoves and more intimate
suites of rooms.

It is impossible to name more than a fraction of these artists of the
eighteenth century. There is Amigoni, admirable as a portrait-painter;
Pittoni, one of the ablest figure-painters of the day; Luca Carlevaris,
the forerunner of Canale; Pe