peculiar antique architecture, with a double row of arcades both
outside and in; the whole having a strikingly Oriental character. In
front, and at one side, is a pavement, forming the principal open
space in Venice; the haunt, of course, of many loungers of all
characters; and distinguished by the two well-known pillars, one of
which bears the lion of St Mark. The interior of the palace presents a
succession of grand old halls, the scene of the court-glories of the
ancient doges. One, called the _Sala del Maggior Consiglio_, is 154
feet long by 74 broad. It has a _dais_ at one end, on which the throne
must have been placed; and over this a picture of Paradise by
Tintoretto, covering the entire end of the room--of course 74 feet
long--being thus the largest picture ever painted on canvas. Around,
under the ceiling, are the portraits of the series of doges. The _Sala
del Senato_ still exhibits the seats of the senators, each furnished
with its candlestick for protracted discussions--a melancholy memorial
of departed independence. We gazed, too, on the Hall of the Council of
Ten, and the lesser room where the more terrible Council of Three held
its sittings; all now reduced to mere show-places, but still strongly
suggesting their original destination. The Lion's Mouth, in the outer
gallery, to which any accusation could be committed, was not
forgotten. After dwelling a due time upon the rooms, and the numerous
pictures and other works of art presented in them, we descended into
the dungeons or _pozzi_--narrow stone-chambers destitute of light,
where Venetian justice formerly kept its victims--a terrific specimen
of the reckless inhumanity of past times. Finally, we passed to the
Bridge of Sighs, which is detected to be an afterthought structure,
designed to connect the palace with the more modern prison in the
rear, a canal intervening. I suspect, after all, that many of the
stories told about the pozzi and the bridge are mere myths, the
reflection of ideas which the appearance of the places suggests.