On further reflection upon the striking scene, Gualberto felt still more affected; and from seeing the dangers and temptations which surround a bustling life, resolved to quit the too much mixed society of mankind, and settle in a state of perpetual retirement.  For this purpose he chose Vallombrosa, and there founded the famous convent so justly admired by all who visit it.

Such stories lead one forward to the tombs of Michael Angelo and the great Galileo, which last I looked on to-day with reverence, pity, and wonder; to think that a change so surprising should be made in worldly affairs since his time; that the man who no longer ago than the year 1636, was by the torments and terrors of the Inquisition obliged formally to renounce, as heretical, accursed, and contrary to religion, the revived doctrines of Copernicus, should now have a monument erected to his memory, in the very city where he was born, whence he was cruelly torn away to answer at Rome for the supposed offence; to which he returned; and strange to tell, in which he lived on, by his own desire, with the wife who, by her discovery of his sentiments, and information given to the priests accordingly, had caused his ruin; and who, after his death, in a fit of mad mistaken zeal, flung into the fire, in company with her confessor, all the papers she could find in his study.

How wonderful are these events! and how sweet must the science of astronomy have been to that poor man, who suffered all but actual martyrdom in its cause!  How odd too, that ever Galileo’s son, by such a mother as we have just described, should apply himself to the same studies, and be the inventor of the simple pendulum so necessary to every kind of clock-work!

Religious prejudices however, and their effects—­and thanks be to God their almost final conclusion too—­may be found nearer home than Galileo’s tomb; while Milton has a monument in the same cathedral with Dr. South, who perhaps would have given credit to no human information, which should have told him that event would take place.

We are now going soon to leave Florence, seat of the arts and residence of literature!  I shall be sincerely sorry to quit a city where not a step can be taken without a new or a revived idea being added to our store;—­where such statues as would in England have colleges founded, or palaces built for their reception, stand in the open street; the Centaur, the Sabine woman, and the Justice:  Where the Madonna della Seggiola reigns triumphant over all pictures for brilliancy of colouring and vigour of pencil.

It was the portrait of Raphaelle’s favourite mistress, and his own child by her sate for the Bambino:—­is it then wonderful that it should want that heavenly expression of dignity divine, and grace unutterable, which breathes through the school of Caracci?  Connoisseurs will have all excellence united in one picture, and quarrel unkindly if merit of any kind be wanting:  Surely the Madonna della Seggiola has nature to recommend it, and much more need not be desired.  If the young and tender and playful innocence of early infancy is what chiefly delights and detains one’s attention, it may be found to its utmost possible perfection in a painter far inferior to Raphael, Carlo Marratt.