to the grave and beaten
path of history--the painter must have felt when he too turned from the
freedom and poetry of art to this first scientific undertaking. The
Cathedral was so far finished by this time, its front not scarred and
bare as afterward, but adorned with statues according to old Arnolfo's
plan, who was dead more than thirty years before; but there was no
belfry, no companion peal of peace and sweetness to balance the hoarse
old vacca with its voice of iron.

Giotto seems to have thrown himself into work not only without
reluctance but with enthusiasm. The foundation-stone of the building was
laid in July of that year, with all the greatness of Florence looking
on; and the painter entered upon his work at once, working out the most
poetic effort of his life in marble and stone, among the masons'
chippings and the dust and blaze of the public street. At the same time
he designed, tho it does not seem sure whether he lived long enough to
execute, a new facade for the Cathedral, replacing Arnolfo's old statues
by something better.

Of the Campanile itself it is difficult to speak in ordinary words. The
enrichments of the surface, which is covered by beautiful groups set in
a graceful framework of marble, with scarcely a flat or unadorned spot
from top to bottom, have been ever since the admiration of artists and
of the world. But we confess, for our own part, that it is the structure
itself that affords us that soft ecstasy of contemplation, sense of a
perfection before which the mind stops short, silenced and filled with
the completeness of beauty unbroken, which Art so seldom gives, tho
Nature often attains it by the simplest means, through the exquisite
perfection of a flower or a stretch of summer sky.

Just as we have looked at a sunset we look at Giotto's tower, poised far
above in the blue air, in all the wonderful dawns and moonlights of
Italy, swift darkness shadowing its white glory at the tinkle of the Ave
Maria, and a golden glow of sunbeams accompanying the mid-day angelus.
Between the solemn antiquity of the old baptistery and the historical
gloom of the great cathedral, it stands like the lily--if not, rather,
like the great angel himself hailing her who was blest among women, and
keeping up that lovely salutation, musical and sweet as its own beauty,
for century after century, day after day. Giotto made not only the
design, but even, Vasari assures us, worked at the groups and
"bassi-relie