FLORENCE AND THE FLORENTINES. FLORENCE, the capital of the grand duchy of Tuscany, is one of the finest cities of Italy, or even of Europe. It stands in a beautiful valley, intersected by the Arno, and occupies both sides of the river, which is crossed by four bridges; it is about five miles in circumference; its streets are well paved, and the houses in general, stately and substantial. The number of churches is very great, and they contain many choice paintings and exquisite statues.

The Church of San Lorenzo, one of the oldest in Florence, and originally the cathedral, was burned down at the commencement of the fifteenth century, and rebuilt by Brunelleschi. The church, the interior of which is ornamented with rows of Corinthian columns, is not of itself an object of much attraction, the visiter is drawn there by the far-spread fame of the chapels of the dukes di Medici*. Of these merchant dukes, Cosmo Cosmo, the progenitor, is buried in the centre of San Lorenzo, and a plain slab is inscribed "To the memory of Cosmo Medici, surnamed by public decree, the Father of his country.' The mausolea of his successors, namely, the chapels before mentioned, are, however, of a very different character from the simple memorial to Cosmo. The first of these chapels, built by Michael Angelo, is a lofty square room with a recess for the altar, orna- | mented with ranges of Corinthian pilasters; it contains the tombs of Julian and Lorenzo Medici. The statues which recline over their sarcophagi are, next to the Moses at Rome t, the most celebrated sculptures of Michael Angelo. The subjects are curious, and have no apparent connexion with their position; they represent four human figures, at so many different periods of the twenty-four hours. The effect of Morning is represented by a female just awaking; a strong light appears to have broken her slumbers, and sleep does not seem inclined to lose its hold without a somewhat painful struggle; this is beautifully expressed in the brow and facial muscles. Night, the most celebrated of the four, has not much feminine beauty, but is remarkable for anatomical perfection, and an approximation to nature almost unparalleled: she rests upon her elbow asleep, and the observer cannot avoid expecting the head to nod and the figure to awake. The other two, Evening and Noon, figures of men reclining, are far from finished, the latter has a surprising appearance of vital energy. The statue surmounting the tomb of Lorenzo, called Il Pensiero, or the thoughtful, is in a sitting posture with its elbow on its knee, and the steadiness of its cold, pensive gaze, rivets the beholder with a species of fascination; on leaving, you are ready to believe that you are watched, and involuntarily turn to look again ere

you escape.

Few of Michael Angelo's statues are perfectly finished; this is generally attributed to the impatience of his genius; it is possible that it proceeded from his sense of inability to fully realize his original conception, or that he purposely left the statue half emerging from the rudely-chipped marble that imagination might invest the residue with ideal perfection. The other Medicean mausoleum was designed by

Perhaps it may be as well here to apprize those of our readers who have not visited the Continent, that the sides of Roman Catholic churches are generally divided into compartments called chapels, and dedicated to different saints; sometimes, as is the case with San Lorenzo, these are built separately, and at a different period from the church with which they communicate, forming externally an excrescence. Mass is commonly performed in the week days at the altar of one of these chapels, which, on account of their size, are more convenient for a small congregation than the grand nave or body of the church, at the extremity of which is situate the principal or master altar. Some of the chapels in St. Peter's, at Rome, are as large as moderate-sized churches.

† Sce Saturday Magazine, Vol. III., p. 50.

Vasari under Cosmo the First, and executed under Ferdinand the First. Its shape is an octagon, surmounted with a cupola: enormous sums, and the labour of two centuries, have been devoted to the decoration of this chapel, which is lined with the richest mineral produce of the East; jasper, chalcedony, malachite, porphyry, lapis lazulæ, &c., adorn the walls, and are arranged in beautiful mosaic groups, which represent the arms of all the Tuscan towns. It contains at present only two tombs, those of Ferdinand the First and Cosmo the Second. The general effect of this structure is dull and disappointing, the riches can only be seen in detail, and it is a pity that some of the enormous wealth lavished upon it, had not been appropriated to finishing the façade of this and other Florentine churches.

The Pietra dura, or hard stone manufactory, is almost peculiar to Florence; the stones are cut by means of a wire strung on a bow, and continually moistened with water and emery: the pieces are fitted together, and the back filled up with a cement. It is a government monopoly, and the finest pieces are never sold, but the workmen are allowed to dispose of the produce of their spare time to strangers; and small tables, broaches, &c., of Florence mosaic may thus be obtained, which, however, notwithstanding its costly material, is much inferior in effect to the Roman.

The church of Santissima Annunziata, gorgeously decorated with gilded embossments, rich marbles, and heavy cornices, is usually frequented by the court, and is consequently the fashionable church of Florence. The cloisters adjoining are covered with frescoes of the Florentine painter, Andrea del Sarto; the most celebrated of these, a representation of the Virgin and child, with Joseph resting on a full sack, is called the Madonna del Sacco, said to have been painted for the monks of the convent in time of extreme dearth, a sack of corn being the price of the picture.

After having viewed the beautiful pictures and frescoes with which the church and cloisters are lined, the visiter may observe in one corner a collection of miserable daubs, representing scenes of sickness and distressful accidents. These offensive mementos are suspended by persons who believe themselves to have been saved from the dangers thus depicted, by the miraculous interposition of the blessed Virgin. Concerning the altar-piece of the chapel of the Virgin, in this church, there is a tradition, that the painter having fallen asleep at his work, on waking found it completed by supernatural intervention. This picture is only exposed to the public on occasions of extraordinary prayers or thanksgivings; it does not prove the supernatural artist to have been of superior skill, being a very indifferent picture. In the month of May, an ass, bearing fruit, wine, and oil, is led with a ceremonial procession to the shrine where the offerings are received by the priests. The Annunziata contains the tombs of several renowned artists, who have contributed to the beauty and splendour of the city,-John of Bologna, Cellini, Bandnielli, and others.

The church of Santa Maria Novella would, perhaps, come next in point of interest to the Annunziata, but neither this or the remaining churches of Florence have such prominent points of attraction as to be noticed at large in this short account.

Attached to this church and convent, however, is an institution which the stranger seldom leaves Florence without visiting; namely, the Farmacia, or dispensary of the monks. It appears that these monks were originally in the habit of distributing a few simples

for the use of the sick poor, and the time not devoted to religious offices was occupied in manufacturing these this custom has grown into an organized and authorized sale of drugs and perfumery, which adds greatly to the revenues of the monastery, a large portion of which is now converted into a chemist's shop. No display is made towards the street; a bell at the portal gains admittance to any person requiring eau de Cologne, or decoction of bark; and for a lira, (about eight pence,) a stranger gets a view of the arched cells lined with bottles, and a pint of rose water into the bargain.

Seven of the principal churches are visited annually by the grand duke and duchess, and court, on foot, who say a short prayer and distribute alms at each. This takes place on Holy Thursday, the day before Good Friday, on which same day, the feet of twelve of the oldest men and women in Florence are washed, and dinner is put on table by the duke and duchess in person, assisted by the most distinguished of the court. This ceremony could not be too highly commended, were it really to be performed with feelings of proper humility, and the conviction that before the Supreme Being, the rich and poor were perfectly equal, and that difference of station is necessary for mutual dependence and the prevention of anarchy to encourage these feelings, the feet should be washed in right earnest, and not, as is actually the case here, water from a silver basin merely sprinkled over them. The custom, indeed, has degenerated into a mere annual show, little analogous to the beautiful example of Jesus washing the feet of his disciples, which it is intended to imitate and

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commemorate.

Florence, during the middle ages, and up to the present time, has been the most advanced in the arts and sciences of any town in Italy, and, perhaps, taking the average of a long period, of any in the world. The Gallery of Paintings and Statues contains the chefs d'œuvre of various epochs. The Venus de Medicis, the most perfect specimen of female beauty ever produced by the chisel; the Knife-grinding Scythian; the Faun of Michael Angelo; and the choicest of the pictures of Raphael, Titian, Guercino, and others, are collected in a small octagonal room called the Tribune, entered from the long corridor of the gallery. In another compartment is the group of Niobe and her Sons and Daughters, supposed to have originally ornamented the pediment of a temple of Apollo; in another, the self-painted portraits of the most eminent painters of all nations and all ages. Other cabinets contain bronze statues, ornaments cut in precious stones, and collections of the pictures of the different schools, native and foreign. The palaces of the noble families of Florence also contain specimens which prove how much Italy at one time excelled the rest of Europe in the arts.

How the sciences have been cultivated will appear by an examination of the Museum, Observatory, &c. In the former is a collection of anatomical models in wax-work, an art in which the Florentines have never been equalled, scarcely even copied by any other people; these models exhibit every portion of the human body, and were constructed for the tuition of the royal princes. To these are added a few specimens of animal and vegetable comparative anatomy: the telescope of Galileo, and the lens with which the diamond was first burned, are preserved in the cabinet of natural philosophy. Science continues at the present day to be held in the highest esteem in Tuscany; the establishments of professors are on the most liberal scale, and the professors do credit to

their patronage, always holding a distinguished rank among the philosophers of Europe.

The Florentines are a good-tempered, intelligent race; the upper classes are accused of want of hospitality, and the lower of dishonesty, and both, we think, with equal injustice. The former accusation proceeds from English notions of hospitality being inseparably connected with good living; but, considering the number of foreigners who are ever passing through this town, and the general shortness of their sojourn, it would be impossible for the inhabitants, whose income is limited, and denomination of money lower than most other countries, to entertain them with expensive profusion; the stranger will, however, never find them sparing of their time or trouble in ministering to his gratification. The accusation of dishonesty arises from the traveller being generally thrown among a bad set, namely, innkeepers, commissioners, vetturinos, and others, whose receipts are undoubtedly much increased by extortion. Those who have spent some time among them will seldom complain of being cheated; they are fond of bargaining, but we have known them give extra weight, or an additional quantity of an article, where they considered the customer outwitted in the price. The misfortune generally, in Italy, is the want of fixed prices, everybody trying to get as much as he can, and give as little; they have not arrived at the philosophy of the mutual convenience to the seller and purchaser of the contrary system. In no place, however, Naples excepted, will good humour go so far, and harshness so short a way, in aid of economy.

Robbery and thieving are scarcely ever known; the writer has left his carriage and luggage many nights in the open yard of an inn, and never missed the smallest article, and when anything has been dropped on the road it has been found and restored.

Probably from the effect of climate, the Florentines are indolent and fond of procrastination. Madame de Staël says, "The Florentines spend their mornings in walking on the Lungo l'Arno, and their evenings in asking each other if they have been there." Pazienza, (have patience,) is their invariable appeal, when deprecating the impatience occasioned by their laziness or carelessness. It must be confessed that they practise what they preach; their political history will evidence, that nationally as well as individually, they can bear and forbear. They are much imbued with the spirit of gambling, and in order to assist the government treasury, the lottery is allowed to exist, which fosters, or perhaps occasions, this tendency. The lottery is drawn with much ceremony by two children on a scaffolding, at the extremity of the Uffizi; five numbers out of ninety are drawn from a wire basket, the tickets contain three numbers, and should these three be identical with three of the five, a prize is won. The extreme rarity of the prizes will be clear from this account; nevertheless, purchasers for the tickets are never wanting, for the most part derived from the class of people who can least afford it. From continually thinking of the lottery, many of them dream of it, and have a superstitious confidence in the success of the numbers dreamed of; books with numbers appended to the ordinary subjects of dreams are consulted, and should a party once gain a prize, he continues to dream and buy tickets for the remainder of his life.

Florence in fine weather is a most delightful place; when the sun shines, the Lungo l'Arno, or bank of the river, is always warm, even when the rest of the town may be unpleasantly cold; the flower girls in their flapping Leghorn hats, who distribute bouquets to 403-2

a fine day. The Cascina, or grand duke's farm, a short distance from the town, forms a delightful drive, where, for six weeks during the winter-season, balls are given by the grand duke, to which English residents are liberally invited; there are also horseraces, which are chiefly supported by the English.

Florence in wet weather is a sort of extensive water-spout; the tubes which collect the water from the roofs, instead of running down the sides of the houses, stretch at irregular lengths over the centre of the street, and there empty their contents; this occasions the passenger to get not only the rain which falls directly upon the street, but all which falls upon the house tops, and that with increased force. The narrowness of the streets adds to this nuisance, which is common to Rome, Naples, and several Italian towns, though in Milan and others it has been altered. Thus it is frequently the case that people will long bear a grievance which individuals would soon remedy, for unanimity is never so certain as when there is only one opinion to be consulted.

THE VIPER AND THE SNAKE. THE only reptiles of the serpent tribe known in Great Britain are the Snake, the Blind-Worm, and the Viper, or Adder; of these three, the Viper alone is venomous. As this reptile is far from being common, while the Snake is frequetly met with, it may be as well to point out the distinguishing characters of the two; for the harmless nature of the Snake enables us to handle it with impunity, and as the markings on its body are subject to variation, the poisonous Viper might be mistaken for it, if the difference of the two is not clearly understood.

The first difference is that of size, the full-grown Viper being much smaller than the Snake. The marks on the back of the Viper are zig-zagged, or lozenged, and connected with each other, while in the common Snake they are distinct from each other, and partake of the character of spots and dashes. In examining the head of the two creatures, the angle of the jaws of the viper will be found most prominent, and the neck thinner, but the eye is peculiarly different; in the Snake it is large and circular, and the pupil in the centre is also circular; the eye of the Viper, on the contrary, is smaller; the pupil long, like that of a cat in a strong light, and above it the bone forms an overhanging ridge, the same as may be seen in the eagle. If the nose is looked at from the side, it will be found more pointed than in the Snake, retreating towards the mouth, which is placed some distance back, the whole appearance indicating cunning and quickness. The attitude of the The attitude of the Viper also betrays it, remaining coiled up with the head elevated, ready to strike.

Another distinction between the two is, the number and arrangement of the plates on the head; this will be better understood by a reference to the engraving. The effect of the poison of the Viper, at least in this country, has been much exaggerated. In the case of an adult in good health, a painful swelling is the consequence, which yields in a few hours to medical treatment, but it has sometimes proved fatal to a child of a few years old, and its effects are more serious to an adult, whose blood is in such a condition as to render it very susceptible of inflammation; but there is little danger to be apprehended from any of the serpent tribe, unless they are wilfully or accidentally irritated, for they are the most timid of all

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A. The Viper's Head, seen from above.-B. The Snake's Head.-C. The Eye of the Viper.-D. The Eye of the Snake.-E. Side view of the Viper's Head.-F. Side View of the Snake's Head.-G. Action of Viper when about to strike.

ON THE CUSTOM OF LIGHTING
PUBLIC STREETS.

IN proportion as we become habituated to the use of any instrument, or to the diffusion of any custom, s are we apt to forget the instruments or customs formerly in vogue, and to regard those which we now have as if they always had been. Yet it is useful now and then to take a retrospective glance at times gone by, if it were only for the purpose of appreciating the comforts which we now possess.

This is well exemplified in the use of street lamps. The brilliant display of gas-flames which the streets of London and other large towns exhibit, has now become so familiar to the inhabitants, that a return to the use of the old oil lamps would be regarded as a public misfortune. But what should we say if, instead of gas or oil lamps, elevated on posts, we had a lamp suspended from a string, which stretched from house to house across the street? And yet this latter mode was considered, in its day, as a most important item of advancement in social comfort. It may be interesting to trace the progress of the custom of lighting streets.

There seems to be no evidence to prove that tome, with all its grandeur and celebrity, had any provision for lighting the streets at night. The Romans, after a nocturnal visit, had to carry flambeaux, or lanterns, or else to walk home in darkness. It appears, however, that Antioch was, as early as the fourth century, more fortunate than Rome in this respect; for some of the principal streets had lamps suspended from ropes near the baths and other public buildings. On occasions of public sorrow these lamps were left unlighted, as a symbol of mourning.

It was many centuries after this before this custom became in any degree prevalent. It appears that Paris was the first modern city which was lighted, and this not until the sixteenth century. At that period, Paris was much infested with street robbers in the

night time; and the inhabitants were ordered to keep lights burning before their houses during the night. But in 1558 the municipal authorities so far took the matter into their own hands, as to cause fallots to be erected at the corners of the principal streets. These fallots were large vases, filled with pitch, resin, and other combustibles; but the regulation of the flame was so inconvenient that they were shortly superseded by lanterns. The street lights were, however, too few in number; and a curious speculation was entered into by an Italian, named Laudati. In 1662 he obtained an exclusive privilege, for twenty years, in the exercise of the following trade. He undertook to erect, not only in Paris, but also in other towns of the kingdom, booths or posts, where any person might hire a link or lantern, which he might either carry, or, by paying an extra sum, have a person to carry for him. Laudati was authorized to receive from every one who hired a lantern to a coach, five sous, and from every foot-passenger three sous, for a quarter of an hour. To prevent disputes in regard to time, it was ordered that a regulated hour-glass should be carried along with each lantern.

A few years after this period, the stationary lanterns were improved in form, and greatly extended in use. They had previously been used only in the four Winter months, whereas they were afterwards lighted during the whole year.

About the middle of the last century, the Lieutenant de Police offered a premium for the invention of the best street lamp that might be devised. This led to the production of the reverberating lamp, as it was called. In old views of Paris, we frequently see representations of these lamps, which were suspended from a string that crossed the street, and was fastened to the houses on either side. The lamps were suspended over the middle of the road-way, at such a height from the ground as to permit vehicles to pass beneath them.

There is some doubt as to whether the London streets were lighted before the seventeenth century. In 1668, among other regulations for the improvement of the streets, was an order that the inhabitants should hang out lanterns before their houses; and in 1690, the order was made more precise, by specifying that every housekeeper should hang out a lamp or light every night, as soon as it was dark, between Michaelmas and Lady-day; and to keep it burning until the hour of twelve at night. In 1716, the common-council ordered, that all housekeepers whose houses fronted any street, lane, or public passage, should, in every dark night, that is, every night between the second night after every full moon, and the seventh night after every new moon, hang out one or more lights, with sufficient cotton wicks, to continue burning from six till eleven o'clock in the evening, under the penalty of one shilling.

Besides these private lights, there were a few public lamps set up by the corporation, and lighted by contract, for which those housekeepers who had no private lights, had to pay a small rate. This confused method was, however, found very imperfect; and in 1736, the corporation applied to Parliament for power to enable them to light the streets in a better manner. The act which they obtained empowered them to set up a sufficient number of glass lamps, which were to be kept burning from sunset to sunrise throughout the year. The result of this was that nearly five thousand street lamps were erected within the city.

During the course of these improvements, many of the continental towns were lighted for the first time. In Amsterdam, an order was issued by the

magistrates in 1699, that the lamp-lighters should wipe the oil and dirt off the horn of the lanterns every day, and that horses should not be fastened to the lamp-posts: from which we may infer that horn lanterns, elevated on posts, were used at that period. Copenhagen, the Hague, Venice, Messina, Palermo, Hamburgh, Madrid, and other places, adopted the custom of lighting the streets, at various periods during the seventeenth century. At Rome, even so late as the latter part of the last century, the streets were not lighted; but Pope Sixtus the Sixth ordered, with the object of somewhat lessening the darkness in the streets, that the number of lights placed before images of saints should be increased.

At Berlin the custom began by ordering the owners of every third house to hang out, in turns, a lantern before their doors. The next stage of improvement was the erection of lamp-posts, the lamps on which were kept lighted at an annual expense of three thousand dollars, which was paid by the inhabitants. After this, the king took upon himself the expense of lighting the streets.

At Vienna the street lamps, on their first introduction, were most inconveniently managed. There were no lamp-lighters; but the inhabitants had to take down the lamps from before their doors in the morning,-take them to the lamp-office to be filled with oil, and light them in the evening, on a signal given by the fire-bell, which was rung for that purpose. About 1780, however, a body of lamp-lighters, who wore a uniform and who were under military discipline, was established, and Vienna became a well-lighted city.

At different times, and in different towns, various slight improvements were made in the construction and management of the street lamps; but the introduction of gas was the most memorable event connected with them. In 1792 Mr. Murdoch, of Redruth, made some experiments on the practicability of. obtaining inflammable gas from various substances; and in 1797 he lighted the Soho manufactory with gas procured from coals. In 1803, Mr. Winsor lighted the Lyceum Theatre with gas; and in the following year, a large cotton factory at Manchester was lighted in the same way. These, and a few other successful attempts, drew the public attention to the subject:-Companies were formed,-gas works were established,-pipes were laid down through the streets,-shops of the better kind were lighted by gas,-and ultimately the street lamps were lighted in the same way. So rapid has been the extension of the use of gas for these purposes, that there is now scarcely a court or alley, and scarcely a respectable shop, in London, which is not lighted by gas; and the other large towns of the kingdom have long adopted a similar mode of illumination.

Be very moderate in eating and drinking. Drunkenness is the great vice of the time; and by drunkenness I do mean, not only gross drunkenness, but also tippling, drinking excessively and immoderately, or more than is convenient or necessary: avoid those companies that are given to it; come not into those places that are devoted to that beastly vice, namely, taverns and ale-houses; avoid and refuse those devices that are used to occasion it, as drinking and pledging of healths; be resolute against it, and when your resolution is once known, you will never be solicited to it. The Rechabites were commanded by their father not to drink wine, and they obeyed it, and had a blessing for it. My command to you is not so strict; I allow you the moderate use of wine and strong drink at your meals: I only forbid you the excess, or unnecessary use of it, and those places and companies, and artifices, that are temptations to it.—SIR MATTHEW HALE,