and the ascent would be less fatiguing. As it was, on descending, after
being so long at the top, I was severely reprimanded by the custodian,
who had previously marked me down as a barbarian for refusing his offer
of field-glasses. But the Palazzo Vecchio tower is open till five.

The Baptistery is the beautiful octagonal building opposite the
cathedral, and once the cathedral itself. It dates from the seventh
or eighth century, but as we see it now is a product chiefly of the
thirteenth. The bronze doors opposite the Via Calzaioli are open every
day, a circumstance which visitors, baffled by the two sets of Ghiberti
doors always so firmly closed, are apt to overlook. All children born
in Florence are still baptized here, and I watched one afternoon an old
priest at the task, a tiny Florentine being brought in to receive the
name of Tosca, which she did with less distaste than most, considering
how thorough was his sprinkling. The Baptistery is rich in colour
both without and within. The floor alone is a marvel of intricate
inlaying, including the signs of the zodiac and a gnomic sentence which
reads the same backwards and forwards--"En gire torte sol ciclos et
roterigne". On this very pavement Dante, who called the church his
"beautiful San Giovanni," has walked. Over the altar is a gigantic
and primitive Christ in mosaic, more splendid than spiritual. The
mosaics in the recesses of the clerestory--grey and white--are the
most soft and lovely of all. I believe the Baptistery is the most
restful place in Florence; and this is rather odd considering that it
is all marble and mosaic patterns. But its shape is very soothing,
and age has given it a quality of its own, and there is just that
touch of barbarism about it such as one gets in Byzantine buildings
to lend it a peculiar character here.

The most notable sculpture in the Baptistery is the tomb of the ex-Pope