h looks as
if it might have been one of the first attempts at using the principle
of the arch. These ruins are all gray and ivied, and it startles one to
think what a history Earth has lived through since their foundations
were laid!

We sat all the afternoon under the cypress trees and looked down on the
lovely valley, practising Italian sometimes with two young Florentines
who came up to enjoy the "_bell'aria_" of Fiesole. Descending as sunset
drew on, we reached the Porta San Gallo, as the people of Florence were
issuing forth to their evening promenade.

One of my first visits was to the church of Santa Croce. This is one of
the oldest in Florence, venerated alike by foreigners and citizens, for
the illustrious dead whose remains it holds. It is a plain, gloomy pile,
the front of which is still unfinished, though at the base, one sees
that it was originally designed to be covered with black marble. On
entering the door we first saw the tomb of Michael Angelo. Around the
marble sarcophagus which contains his ashes are three mourning figures,
representing Sculpture, Painting and Architecture, and his bust stands
above--a rough, stern countenance, like a man of vast but unrefined
mind. Further on are the tombs of Alfieri and Machiavelli and the
colossal cenotaph lately erected to Dante. Opposite reposes Galileo.
What a world of renown in these few names! It makes one venerate the
majesty of his race, to stand beside the dust of such lofty spirits.

Dante's monument may be said to be only erected to his memory; he sleeps
at the place of his exile,

"Like Scipio, buried by the upbraiding shore!"

It is the work of Ricci, a Florentine artist, and has been placed there
within a few years. The colossal figure of Poetry weeping over the empty
urn, might better express the regret of Florence in being deprived of
his ashes. The figure of Dante himself, seated above, is grand and
majestic; his head is inclined as if in meditation, and his features
bear the expression of sublime thought. Were this figure placed there
alone, on a simple and massive pedestal, it would be more in keeping
with his fame than the lumbering heaviness of the present monument.

Machiavelli's tomb is adorned with a female figure representing History,
bearing his portrait. The inscription, which seems to be somewhat
exaggerated, is: _tanto nomini nullum par elogium_. Near lies Alfieri,
the "prince of tragedy," as he is called by the Italians. In