eyes as the king campanile of Venice. In my eyes the campanile of S.
Giorgio Maggiore now reigns supreme, while I am very much attached also
to those of the Frari and S. Francesco della Vigna. But let S. Mark's
campanile take heart: some day Anno Domini will claim these others too,
and then the rivalry will pass. But as it is, morning, noon, and evening
the warm red bricks and rich green copper top of S. Giorgio Maggiore's
bell-tower draw the gaze first, and hold it longest. It is the most
beautiful campanile of all, and its inevitableness is such that did we
not know the truth we should wonder if the six days of creation had not
included an afternoon for the ordainment of such edifices.

It would need a Hans Andersen to describe the feelings of the other
Venetian campaniles when S. Mark's tall column fell. S. Giorgio's I
imagine instantly took command, but no doubt there were other claimants
to the throne. I rather fancy that the Frari's had something to say, and
S. Pietro in Castello's also, on account of his age and his early
importance; but who could pay any serious attention at that time to a
tower so pathetically out of the perpendicular as he now is?

The new campanile endeavours to reproduce the old faithfully, and it was
found possible to utilize a little of the old material. The figures of
Venice on the east wall above the belfry canopy and Justice on the west
are the ancient ones pieced together and made whole; the lions on the
north and south sides are new. The golden angel on the summit is the old
one restored, with the novelty, to her, as to us, of being set on a
pivot to act as a vane. I made this discovery for myself, after being
puzzled by what might have been fancied changes of posture from day to
day, due to optical illusion. One of the shopkeepers on the Square, who
has the campanile before his eye continually, replied, however, when I
asked him if the figure was fixed or movable, "Fixed." This double duty