From this room we will enter first the Corridio delle Colonne where Cardinal Leopoldo de’ Medici’s miniature portraits are hung, all remarkable and some superb, but unfortunately not named, together with a few larger works, all very interesting.  That Young Goldsmith, No. 207, which used to be given to Leonardo but is now Ridolfo Ghirlandaio’s, is here; a Franciabigio, No. 43; a questioned Raphael, No. 44; a fine and sensitive head of one of the Gonzaga family by Mantegna, No. 375; the coarse head of Giovanni Bentivoglio by da Costa, No. 376; and a Pollaiuolo, No. 370, S. Jerome, whose fine rapt countenance is beautifully drawn.

In the Sala della Giustizia we come again to the Venetians:  a noble Piombo, No. 409; the fine Aretino and Tommaso Mosti by Titian; Tintoretto’s portrait of a man, No. 410; and two good Moronis.  But I am not sure that Dosso Dossi’s “Nymph and Satyr” on the easel is not the most remarkable achievement here.  I do not, however, care greatly for it.

In the Sala di Flora we find some interesting Andreas; a beautiful portrait by Puligo, No. 184; and Giulio Romano’s famous frieze of dancers.  Also a fine portrait by Allori, No. 72.  The end room of all is notable for a Ruysdael.

Finally there is the Sala del Poccetti, out of the Sala di Prometeo, which, together with the preceding two rooms that I have described, has lately been rearranged.  Here now is the hard but masterly 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