This island produces a variety of beggar, the most truculent and tenacious
in all Venice, and it has a convent of lazy Capuchin friars, who are
likewise beggars. To them belongs the church of the Redentore, which only
the Madonnas of Bellini in the sacristy make worthy to be seen,--though
the island is hardly less famed for this church than for the difficult
etymology of its name.

At the eastern extremity of the Giudecca lies the Island of San Giorgio
Maggiore, with Palladio's church of that name. There are some great
Tintorettos in the church, and I like the beautiful wood-carvings in the
choir. The island has a sad interest from the political prison into which
part of the old convent has been perverted; and the next island eastward
is the scarcely sadder abode of the mad. Then comes the fair and happy
seat of Armenian learning and piety, San Lazzaro, and then the Lido.

The Lido is the sea-shore, and thither in more cheerful days the Venetians
used to resort in great numbers on certain holidays, called the Mondays of
the Lido, to enjoy the sea-breeze and the country scenery, and to lunch
upon the flat tombs of the Hebrews, buried there in exile from the
consecrated Christian ground. On a summer's day there the sun glares down
upon the sand and flat gravestones, and it seems the most desolate place
where one's bones might be laid. The Protestants were once also interred
on the Lido, but now they rest (apart from the Catholics, however) in the
cemetery of San Michele.

The island is long and narrow: it stretches between the lagoons and the
sea, with a village at either end, and with bath-houses on the beach,
which is everywhere faced with forts. There are some poor little trees
there, and grass,--things which we were thrice a week grateful for, when
we went thither to bathe. I do not know whether it will give the place