"Niobe dissolved in tears." How much we have read and studied about Niobe, and how writers delight to quote her name, especially whenever tears are spoken of! I remember getting a thwack at school for pronouncing the name of the tearful mother, Nigh-oab, soon after another youngster had been corrected for the same blunder. The story of Niobe and her children was often taken as a subject by the ancient artists, and the most celebrated of the ancient representations was that which filled the temple of Apollo Sosianus, at Rome, and was found in that city in 1583, and now preserved here in a room very properly devoted to it, called the Hall of Niobe. The group consists of the mother, who holds one of the children upon her lap, while thirteen statues of other sons and daughters are grouped about in various attitudes. It is useless to attempt to convey the impression made by such masterly specimens of ancient art—figures which may have been shaped by the chisel of Praxiteles, certainly by some sculptor who wrought as though he felt he was portraying a domestic tragedy he had been an eye-witness of, and not a mythological legend. The deep, touching grief of the mother, the admirably natural figure of one of the dying sons, that almost causes the spectator to rush to his aid,—in fact, the whole story is told in marble, and with wonderful effect, making a powerful impression upon the beholder.
Turning from this great work of the ancient sculptor's art, our eyes fall upon the original, of which we have often seen copies, Snyder's painting of the Boar Hunt; then the spirited picture of Henry IV. at the Battle of Ivry,—King Henry of Navarre, whom all the school-boys will recollect, from the poem which is so popular with them for declamation:—
"The king has come to marshal us,
In all his armor dressed,
And he has bound a snow-white plume
Upon his gallant crest."
Another spirited and beautiful figure painting was the Entrance of Henry IV. into Paris after the Battle of Ivry.
Among other riches of this great collection is a cabinet of gems, where were a wonderful casket of rock crystal, with seventeen compartments, in which were elaborately wrought figures representing events of the Passion; an elegant vase of sardonyx, on which Lorenzo de' Medici's name was engraved; another cut out of a solid block of lapis lazuli, &c.
Then came a great cabinet of ancient bronzes; and it is curious to see how these specimens of antique Grecian art—figures, vases, and bass-reliefs—form models for the most graceful, popular, and beautiful specimens of artistic work and ornament at the present day. In this collection, besides the bronze figures of Jupiters, Venuses, and other deities, and various beautiful bass-reliefs, discovered in ruined cities, we found a most interesting collection of ancient Grecian and Roman arms and helmets, candelabra, household utensils, &c. Here were spear-heads of Roman legions, that marched hundreds of years before Christ, the weights and measures of artisans, the helmet of the warrior, the bronze brooch of the Greek maiden, and the bronze greaves of the Etruscan soldier. The hall of modern bronzes gave us figures by artists of modern times, such as Ghiberti's Sacrifice of Abraham, Giovanni of Bologna's Mercury, a bust of Cosimo I. by Benvenuto Cellini, an angel by Donatello, &c. And all this grand collection, this wealth of art, where student may study, the dreamer may dream, sight-seer may drink his fill, the artist educate his taste, and the lover of the beautiful feast to his heart's content, is free to all who desire to look upon it. It is hard, indeed, to tear one's self away from the treasures that are heaped up here; but there are other sights to be seen, and more galleries, and churches, and palaces to be looked at.
An interesting visit was that made by us to Michael Angelos's house, or the Palazzo Buonarroti, as it is called. It belongs to the city, having been bequeathed, with its contents, by the great artist's last male relative at his death, and contains many interesting relics, much of the contents and furniture being kept in the original position. Here we passed through the rooms, which open one out of the other, and have their walls adorned with choice pictures by great painters. One room has a series of paintings representing the principal events in his life, and another is hung with pictures relative to members of the Buonarroti family; for, be it known to many who suppose that Michael Angelo is the entire name of the artist, that it was Michael Angelo Buonarroti. He had intended before his death, which occurred in Rome, in the ninetieth year of his age, to have sent all his personal property to Florence, where a house was to have been purchased to receive it; but this was not done; so at his death the Florentine ambassador at Rome, acting under instructions, took possession of and forwarded the mementos which we looked upon, and which are now deposited in this "palace" of the family, which was not, as many travellers understand, the last residence he occupied previous to his death. That event took place in Rome, on the 18th of February, 1564; and on the 11th of March following his body was returned to his native city of Florence, after thirty years of voluntary exile, and entombed in the Church of Santa Croce.