asterly Holy
Family of Bronzino, who has an enormous amount of work in Florence,
chiefly Medicean portraits, but nowhere, I think, reaches the level
of his "Allegory" in our National Gallery, or the portrait in the
Taylor collection sold at Christie's in 1912. Here also are four
rich Poussins; two typical Salvator Rosa landscapes and a battle
piece from the same hand; and, by some strange chance, a portrait
of Oliver Cromwell by Sir Peter Lely. But the stone table again wins
most attention.

And here, as we leave the last of the great picture collections of
Florence, I would say how interesting it is to the returned visitor
to London to go quickly to the National Gallery and see how we
compare with them. Florence is naturally far richer than we, but
although only now and then have we the advantage, we can valuably
supplement in a great many cases. And the National Gallery keeps
up its quality throughout--it does not suddenly fall to pieces as
the Uffizi does. Thus, I doubt if Florence with all her Andreas
has so exquisite a thing from his hand as our portrait of a "Young
Sculptor," so long called a portrait of the painter himself; and we
have two Michelangelo paintings to the Uffizi's one. In Leonardo the
Louvre is of course far richer, even without the Gioconda, but we
have at Burlington House the cartoon for the Louvre's S. Anne which
may pair off with the Uffizi's unfinished Madonna, and we have also
at the National Gallery his finished "Virgin of the Rocks," while
to Burlington House one must go too for Michelangelo's beautiful
tondo. In Piero di Cosimo we are more fortunate than the Uffizi; and
we have Raphaels as important as those of the Pitti. We are strong
too in Perugino, Filippino Lippi, and Luca Signorelli, while when it
comes to Piero della Francesca we lead absolutely. Our Verrocchio,
or School of Verrocchio, is a superb thing, while our Cimabue (from
S. Croce) has a quality of richness not excelled by any that I have
seen elsewhere. But in Botticelli Florence wins.

The Pitti palace contains also the apartments in which the King
and Queen of Italy reside when they visit Florence, which is not
often. Florence became the capital of Italy in 1865, on the day of
the sixth anniversary of the birth of Dante. It remained the capital
until 1870, when Rome was chosen. The rooms are shown thrice a
week, and are not, I think, worth the time that one must give to the
perambulation. Beyond this there is nothing to