Florence, too, was the home of the Renaissance, and although Giotto preceded the great master of early Renaissance, Brunelleschi, his famous Campanile is more classic in style than Gothic. The accompanying sketch was made towards twilight when a day's heavy rain had cleared off. The general impression one carries away of the beautiful bell tower is that of a white mass rising majestically above the congested traffic of the noisy street below. The year 1334 saw the commencement of Giotto's design. His death, however, took place when the work had but reached the first storey of the five. Taddeo Gaddi and Francesco Talenti carried it on, and to the latter are due the windows of the upper storeys. Small lozenges in the lowest depict the Development of Civilised Man from the Creation. Above these is a series of sculptures, and in niches yet higher up are the Prophets, Evangelists, Patriarchs and Sibyls. Giotto intended to add a spire to the heavy balcony which projects from the top of the last storey. The whole structure is cased in white, pink and green marble, and thus harmonises with the exterior of the Duomo which it adjoins. Had the spire been added, the campanile would not have the rather top-heavy appearance it has when seen from some distance away.

The cathedral is a building that stands on the site of a very early church dedicated to S. Salvadore. Appropriately named Sta Maria del Fiore, the construction was commenced in 1298 from the designs of Arnolfo di Cambio. Many hands worked for nearly two centuries at Arnolfo's designs, and continually altered them. On the whole, whatever its merits, the building cannot be said to be an architectural success. The façade, completed as recently as 1887 by Emilio di Fabris, is perhaps the most fortunate feature. The Gothic windows on the north side are certainly very beautiful. The mass of the huge dome seen from the corner of the Via del Orviolo piles extremely well above the domes of the apse and south transept. But most of the good points of the exterior are lost in the "noisy" pattern of the different coloured marble panels, which, like those in Giotto's campanile, encase the whole building.

The interior is vast and empty, and the dull grey colour that covers the walls is almost worse than whitewash. Four immense bays constitute either side of the nave. The heavy piers that support the arches would be better without the ugly caps above the capitals. There is a gallery above with pointed arches, and four circular windows on each side form the clerestory. The best portions of the interior are the two aisles. The glass in the windows of these, although almost obscured by dust and cobwebs, is very lovely. The interior of the great dome was painted by Vasari and Zuccaro, but reveals no beauties of design. The High Altar is situated beneath this, and the choir stalls which are around are enclosed by a high marble screen. Under the altar, in a fine bronze casket, lie the remains of S. Zenobius, who was bishop of Florence at the end of the fourth century. The apse of the cathedral consists of five chapels; the middle one is dedicated to the saint. Behind the High Altar is a fine, though unfinished Pietà, the last work commenced by Michael Angelo. He intended it for his own tomb, but died before it was completed. There are many things of value in both the Sagrestia della Mese, the beautiful bronze doors of which are by Michelozzo, and the Sagrestia Vecchia, over the door of which is one of Lucca della Robbia's very best works. It is true that with oft-repeated visits the vast building grows on one, but, however much its size may impress, it cannot be called a landmark in Italian architecture.

Close by these two structures and due west of the cathedral façade, in the middle of the Piazza del Duomo, stands the Baptistery. Its eight walls were covered with marble by Arnolfo di Cambio some time after the west door had been removed and the rectangular space for the altar constructed inside. The three doors that remain are, with the lintels, superb examples in bronze of the Renaissance period. The twenty panels which depict the life of S. John the Baptist on the south door are the work of Andrea Pisano. At the base of one lintel two nude male figures carry children at a vintage festival; at the base of the other are two female figures, amidst a cluster of corn stalks. Andrea Pisano has almost excelled himself in the exquisite foliage which grows up both posts. Above the door is a bronze group in which S. John kneels to receive the stroke from the executioner's sword, while an angel holds up a hand shielding the sight from her eyes. The East door by Ghiberti contains prophets and sibyls in niches between the ten panels that illustrate episodes of the Old Testament. The third door is by the same hand. Its twenty panels of Gospel history are surrounded by exquisite foliage, amidst which snails and beetles crawl and bees suck honey, while here and there the fascinating head of an impudent little frog peeps out.

The interior does not compare with Pisa's Baptistery. Granite columns with gilt Corinthian capitals support a triforium gallery composed of round arches with Ionic pillars. The square lights of the clerestory, which alternate with mosaic panels, are behind another gallery that leans inwards. From this springs the mosaic-covered dome. Up to the year 1571 a large font stood in the centre, directly under the opening in the middle of the dome, which until then had no cupola. It was moved in that year by Francesco I. for the baptism of his son! An act of sacrilege which speaks volumes for the absolute power of the autocratic grand dukes of those days.

It is very interesting to examine the almost interminable series of portraits that hang on the walls of the long passage connecting the Ufizzi and Pitti Palaces. This passage crosses the river, and may be seen in the illustration of the Ponte Vecchio, with its square barred windows looking up the river. It is above the jewellers' shops—a favourite haunt of the tourist—that hang so airily like spiders over the water and crowd the old bridge. Amongst this extraordinary collection of portraits of the Medici and their collaterals, may be seen one of our own Charles II., Eleanor of Toledo, wife of Cosimo I., and Catherine de Medici, whose sly eyes, cunning and cruel mouth in no way belie her character. All the reigning grand dukes are here, and not one of them can be said, if these are faithful portraits, to have a really open honest countenance. To judge by their physiognomies, they ruled by brute force and craft. However, there are bronze figures of two of the race who in metal appear more like noblemen than these travesties in paint. Indeed when one sees the gilded figures of Ferdinand I. and Cosimo II. standing over their tombs in the Capella Medicea, we feel they were men of the great race that made Florence famous throughout the civilised world.

The Capella Medicea stands at the back of the fine church of S. Lorenzo. It is a gloomy octagonal building with a dome, and lined throughout in a dull and heavy scheme, with most costly marble. The interior of the dome is painted and gilded. Six members of the great family lie here in their sarcophagi. The remains of two more rest in the Sacristy. But it is not in connection with any reverence for the scions of the Medicean House that our footsteps are drawn hither. No, the little sacristy is crowded all day with those who come to see the work of Michael Angelo. Beneath the statue on the tomb of Giuliano de Medici are the colossal figures of Day and Night. These two wonderful creations are surpassed by Dawn and Twilight on the tomb of Lorenzo, a grandson of Lorenzo the Magnificent, and father of Catherine de Medici. His well-known seated figure is on the tomb. More simple than these is the beautiful, but unfinished, group of the Virgin and Child. The little altar, too, is a masterpiece of simplicity by the same great hand.

To the church of S. Lorenzo is attached the celebrated Laurentian Library, which contains the most valuable collection of MSS. in Italy, the Vatican alone excepted. Among these is the seventh-century MS. of the Vulgate Bible, written by Ceolfrid Abbot of Jarrow. At the corner of the Piazza de S. Lorenzo is a fountain surmounted by a statue of Giovanni delle Bande Nere, leader of the "Black Hand," whose son became the Grand Duke Cosimo I. Opposite this fountain is the magnificent palace of the Medici, the Palazzo Riccardi. From its beautiful cortile, with reliefs by Donatello, a fine staircase leads up to the big hall that has a ceiling painted by Luca Giordano. The palace was built by Michelozzo for Cosimo, who lavished his wealth to such an extent that the title he acquired of Pater Patriæ was perhaps no misnomer. By the same profuse expenditure his grandson Lorenzo became known as Lorenzo il Magnifico. The family of Medici appears in the chronicles of Florence towards the end of the twelfth century; but the first member to lay claim to any distinction was Salvestro, who took a prominent part in the revolt of the Ciompi in 1378. The leader of this insurrection was Michele di Landi, a ciompo or wool-carder. Giovanni, the banker, amassed the great wealth which enabled his son Cosimo to carry out his ambitions.