"In Santa Croce's holy precincts lie
Ashes which make it holier, dust which is
Even in itself an immortality.
Though there were something save the past, and this
The particles of those sublimities
Which have relapsed to chaos:—here repose
Angelo's, Alfieri's bones, and his
The starry Galileo, with his woes;
Here Machiavelli's earth returned to whence it rose.
These are four minds, which, like the elements,
Might furnish forth creation:—Italy!
Time, which hath wronged thee with ten thousand rent
Of thine imperial garment, shall deny,
And hath denied, to every other sky
Spirits which soar from ruin:—thy decay
Is still impregnant with divinity,
Which gilds it with revivifying ray;
Such as the great of yore, Canova is to-day."
The façade of Santa Croce, like that of the Cathedral, is finely encased with marble; but it is the interior that excites such deep interest in the mind; the many fine monuments, and the beautiful sculptures on the tombs of the great and illustrious men whom Italy has had the honour to call her children. In this she is indeed rich among nations. The church contains a great number of chapels, some large, some small, but all possessing paintings, sculptures, mosaics, and monuments of interest.
In the Church of San Lorenzo are the stately mausoleums of the Medici. The Capella dei Deposite, or Chapel of the Buried, was designed by Michael Angelo, on purpose to contain his two celebrated statues of Giuliano and Lorenzo di Medici. At the feet of Giuliano rest the recumbent figures, Day and Night; of the latter, the great Angelo wrote—
"Grateful to me is sleep; to be of stone
More grateful, while the wrong and shame endure
To see not, feel not, is a benediction;
Therefore, awake me not; oh, speak in whispers!"
The other and more imposing statue of Lorenzo, grandson of Lorenzo the Magnificent, is a truly wonderful study. The figure is seated in a perfectly natural attitude, one hand supporting the head, which is covered by a kind of helmet; the shadowed face is full of intense thought, and the stone almost seems to breathe beneath your gaze. The statue is worthy of the master mind which designed it. Allegorical figures, representing Morning and Evening, are recumbent on either side.
There are many other churches to visit in Florence, but although they may well repay the trouble, I think, as a rule, that visitors waste much time and money in making a point of seeing every individual church and chapel in each place they stop at. The hotel-keepers, who make the objects of interest as numerous as possible, derive by far the greatest benefit from it.
Florence is truly wonderful in picture-galleries, and nearly every antique shop is worth stopping at, to look at the copies of great works, though there is too frequently a doubt as to their genuineness; for there is great difficulty in obtaining permission to copy some of the most celebrated of the old masters, therefore the demand for these copies far exceeds the supply, and the shopkeepers resort to unscrupulous means to satisfy their customers and fill their own pockets. Many a British householder has pictures hanging upon his walls with which he is so well pleased, that it would be a pity to question their genuineness and undeceive him.
The chief and most important of the Art Museums are, the Uffizi or National Gallery of Florence, and the royal Pitti Palace. These two buildings, although on opposite sides of the river, are connected by a picture-gallery some seven hundred yards long, which extends across one of the bridges of the Arno. It is impossible to view separately, or form a very connected after-idea of, all the various treasures gathered here—a collection which equals any other in the world. The chief and most universally admired paintings by the old masters are contained in one room called the Tribune—here are also five of the most beautiful of antique statues—the Wrestlers, the Dancing Faun, the Apollino, the Slave, and lastly, the famous Venus de' Medici. Of this last I may truly say, with Hawthorne, "It is of no use to throw heaps of words upon her, for they all fall away, and leave her standing in chaste and naked grace, as untouched as when I began." It is very, very beautiful, but not to be compared with that perfect chef d'œuvre of sculpture, the Venus of the Capitol, of which it is supposed to have been a copy.
The statues are hardly seen to the best advantage, as the paintings behind them, and the many beautiful art treasures in the room, distract the attention and weary the eye. In fact, in visiting all these celebrated galleries in Italy, one is really unable to devote to each the attention and admiration it deserves, and which we should naturally accord were we not simply overwhelmed and dazzled with such profusion of treasure; the mind refuses to store away all the beautiful and tender thoughts that crowd into it in wild confusion—they pass away almost as swiftly as they come, leaving our after recollections in a sadly fragmentary state, with a feast of undigested mental food.