Alexandria and of preserving it in Venice, thus establishing that city not only as a religious centre but also as a place of pilgrimage and renown.  As Mrs. Richardson remarks in her admirable survey of the Doges:  “Was it not well that the government of the Doge Giustiniano and his successors throughout the age should become the special concern of a Saint-Evangelist in whose name all national acts might be undertaken and accomplished; all national desires and plans—­as distinct from and dominant over purely ecclesiastical ones—­be sanctified and made righteous?” The success of the scheme of theft I have related in an earlier chapter; and how this foresight was justified, history tells.  It is odd that Venice does not make more acclamation of Giustiniano (or Partecipazio II).  To his brother Giovanni, who early had shown regrettable sympathy with the Franks and had been banished accordingly, Giustiniano bequeathed the Dogeship (as was then possible), and it was in his reign (829-836) that S. Mark’s was begun.

The last Doge in this room is Girolamo Priuli (1559-1567), of whom nothing of account is remembered save that it was he who invited Tintoretto to work in the palace and on one of the ceilings.  You may see his portrait in one of the rooms, from Tintoretto’s brush, in the company of Venice, Justice, S. Mark and the Lion.

Of the others of the six-and-seventy Doges around the room I do not here speak.  The names of such as are important will be found elsewhere throughout this book, as we stand beside their tombs or glide past their palaces.

Before leaving the Hall one should, as I have said, walk to the balcony, the door of which the custodian opens for each visitor with a mercenary hand.  It should of course be free to all; and Venice would do well to appoint some official (if such could be found) to enforce such liberties.  Immediately below is all the movement of the Molo; then the edge of the lagoon with its myriad gondolas; then the sparkling water, with all its busy activities and swaying gondoliers; and away beyond it the lovely island of S. Giorgio.  A fairer prospect the earth cannot show.

The first Doge in the Sala dello Scrutinio is Pietro Loredan (1567-1570) and the last of all Lodovico Manin (1788-1797) who fell before the inroads of Napoleon.  “Take it away,” he said to his servant, handing him the linen cap worn beneath the ducal corno, “we shall not need it any more.”  He retired into piety and left his fortune to good works.

This room, also a fine and spacious hall but smaller than the Sala del Maggior Consiglio, has historical pictures, and a “Last Judgment,” by Palma the younger, which immensely interests the custodian by reason of a little human touch which may or may not be true.  On the left of the picture, in the Infernal regions, low down, will be seen a large semi-nude female sinner in torment; on the right, in heaven, the same person is seen again, in bliss.  According