kind. Thus she became his heavenly ideal. Thus we behold him, her, and his love, in his Vita Nuova.
The lofty Campanile stands near the Cathedral, like an independent work of art, completed in its lovely mosaic attire of many-colored marble. The Cathedral has likewise this richly-colored clothing, and shines therefrom, in the light of the sun, so that one might fancy one saw some wonderful gigantic flowers. It is also called Santa Maria del fiore.
These works of art, and the bronze gates of the Baptistry, upon which Lorenzo Ghiberti worked for fourteen years, and which Michael Angelo Buonarotti said were worthy to form the gates of paradise,[1] are memorials of the time when the Signoria of Florence extended itself not merely within the territory of the state, but also within that of art and science. “At this period,” says Machiavelli, “our city was in a condition of unparalleled prosperity and success. She was affluent in people, treasure, and honor; she possessed thirty thousand citizens capable of bearing arms, to which seventy thousand might still be added from the country. The entire population of Tuscany obeyed her, partly as subjects, partly as allies; and although distrust and hatred prevailed between the nobles and the people, yet, so far, no evil results had followed, but all lived united and at peace.”
But this peace did not last long. Nobles and people, Guelphs and Ghibellines, white and black, inter-
- ↑ But a paradise à la Buonarotti, who belonged more to the old covenant than to the new, where the warlike march of the Children of Israel, and their battles, are represented—Author's Note.
