A noble window and pierced balcony of early fifteenth-century work occupies the centre of the upper arcade which faces the sea. This beautiful window and marble balcony open out from the great Sala Maggiore Consiglio. Above the moulding of the window is a figure of Justice, and below in flanking niches are SS. Peter, Paul and Mark; Faith, Hope and Charity; and the four Cardinal Virtues. A fine loggia, with cusped arches and quatrefoils above, runs round both the exposed sides of the Palace. The plan of the building is an irregular square with a great courtyard inside. The courtyard is Renaissance, the east side being a particularly good example of a period when the wealth of Venice was lavished on her buildings.

In the north-east corner of this court and opposite to the Porta della Carta, is the famous Scala dei Giganti, erected by Rizzio in 1483. At the head of this magnificent Staircase of the Giants, the Doges were crowned with the Cap of Authority. From it an open corridor runs right and left. On the right the Scala d'Oro ascends to the second floor. Only those whose names were inscribed in the Libro d'Oro were permitted to use this stairway, which led to that portion of the Palace occupied by the Doges and their attendant nobles. The continuous suite of magnificent apartments through which the visitor wanders seem full of emptiness and sadly want the stately figures and quaint dress, the sonorous voices and courtly manners of the bygone age that once peopled them and made them live. The gorgeously gilded and coloured ceilings become not only oppressive from their magnificence, but wearisome by their repetition; and despite the great traditions that cling to the Palace and the remembrance of the history made within these chambers, it is with a sigh of relief that one steps out on to the balcony where Justice holds the Scales above our head, and drinks in the balmy air that floats in over the lagoons keeping Venice pure and sweet.

Outside on the Riva at the end of the Piazzetta are two columns of granite that were brought to Venice in 1180 by Doge Michiel. One came from Syria, the other from Constantinople. On the capital of one is the Winged Lion of S. Mark, the emblem of Venice's patron saint; an emblem which is to be found in every city in the country that owned allegiance to the Doge's rule. On the other is a figure of S. Theodore, who stands over a crocodile. S. Theodore, it will be remembered, was the tutelary saint of Venice before his deposition on the arrival of S. Mark's body; but this statue was not put up on the monolith until the year 1329. These two great columns look across the water to the isle of S. Giorgio Maggiore, where Palladio's great church stands in its chilly splendour. Beyond are the lagoons and the open sea. The marble-paved landing-stage on which they stand is from one point of view the most interesting part of Venice. On it her great traders and merchants gathered when the long-expected ships from the East came into sight; and as they swept proudly up the channels and dropped anchor opposite, one can well imagine the excitement of the thankful owners who would in a few minutes go on board and learn of the success or failure of the long voyage just ended.

The oldest part of Venice lies across the Rialto bridge, on the island of Rivo Alto, where the fish and vegetable markets now are. As this little town grew more prosperous a wooden bridge, replaced in 1588 by the present one, was built to connect Rivo Alto with the island opposite; and by degrees the seventy-two islands on which the city is built became absorbed within her borders. It must never be forgotten that Venice, until connected with the mainland by a railway bridge, always faced the sea, which, as Grant Allen writes, was the front door.

Long before the Venice of Rivo Alto came into being, there was a flourishing little city not many miles away on the island of Torcello. At the time when Attila and his Huns descended on the Roman colony of Aquileia and wrought devastation throughout that flourishing outpost of the world's greatest city, many of the inhabitants, leaving their desolate homes to the mercy of the invader, fled to the swamps and islands at the estuaries of the rivers Po, Adige, and Brenta. Amidst these dismal surroundings the greater number found refuge on the island of Torcello. From Torcello the refugees in time pushed out to the surrounding islands, and an important station was established on Rivo Alto. Thus began Venice; and from this little island grew that great Republic, the Mistress of the Seas, which down to the time of the French Revolution had never seen a conquering host enter its waterways.

As early as 641 Torcello possessed a cathedral. This was rebuilt in 874, and parts of the structure were later on incorporated into the building which stands to-day just as it did when finished in the early eleventh century by Bishop Orseolo. Its architectural interest lies in its being an Italian church on strict Byzantine lines, and it is one of the earliest examples of cultivated native art. Its exterior possesses the simplicity of all early work and stands up like a great barrack, with its campanile a landmark for miles over the dreary waste of waters. The interior is very austere and cold. The bays on either side of the nave separate it from the aisles. The columns that support the round arches are a light grey marble; the capitals, Corinthianized Byzantine. The clerestory lights, which are placed just under the roof, are on the south side only, those on the north having been blocked up at some remote period. The south aisle is lit by narrow round-headed windows, each of which has a great marble shutter slab on the outside still swinging in its marble socket—a reminiscence of Ancient Rome, and one that exists in the Roman butchers' shops of to-day. A rood-screen shuts off the choir, the four panels of it facing the nave are particularly fine examples of the art of the early eleventh century. The two centre panels have each a couple of peacocks with necks outstretched feeding on foliage; and in the two outer two lions are sculptured in perspective, a rather unusual thing for so early a work. These panels support six elegant columns, which in their turn hold a series of painted panels of wood of the fourteenth century on which the Madonna and twelve Apostles are represented. A very fine pulpit, with reading-desk below, is to the north of the screen. It has an interesting bas-relief at the base, reconstructed in the twelfth century.

Behind the high altar, under which rest the remains of S. Eliodorus, is the tribune. This part of the church is unique. The apse is arranged in eight semicircular rows of seats, occupied at one time by the lesser clergy, in the centre of which, elevated to a position just under the small eastern light, is the bishop's throne. The throne is approached by a dozen steps separated from the rows of seats by a marble wall. The seats in times gone by were white marble, but have been recently restored and are now of brick. Despite their present warm colour, the damp chilliness of this beautiful little church strikes a mournful note hardly relieved by the flaring red brick, or the gorgeous tone of the mosaics which cover the vaulting of the choir and apse.

In the semi-dome of the apse a dignified Madonna and Child gaze serenely below, with white-robed Apostles ranged round. The mosaics, however, which cover the west wall are of greater artistic interest, being of the ninth century. They illustrate the narrative of early Christian tradition and are divided into five bands carrying out its ideas. The marvellous tessellated floor of the cathedral has withstood, in a wonderful manner, the damp and ravages of time, but, like that of S. Mark's, is very uneven. There is an air of decay and long oblivion about the whole building that nothing can efface.

Outside, and joined to the cathedral by a cloistered walk, is the church of Sta. Fosca. Originally a basilica of the ninth century, this much dilapidated little edifice was rebuilt in 1008 in the shape of a Greek cross. A rotunda occupies the centre, inside which runs a grey pillared arcade built to support a dome that was never constructed. There are three apses; the middle one has two rows of blind arcading with ornamental brickwork above. A brick loggia, covered with whitewash, is outside, and connects with the cloister and the cathedral. Sta. Fosca suffered martyrdom at Ravenna her native city, and her remains were brought here, and this now damp ruinous little church built around them.