nd the Triumph of Chastity (that of the Duchess). The
Duke's companions are Victory, Prudence, Fortitude, Justice, and
Temperance; the little Duchess's are Love, Hope, Faith, Charity,
and Innocence; and if these are not exquisite pictures I never saw any.

The statues in the room should not be missed, particularly the little
Genius of Love, the Bacchus and Ampelos, and the spoilt little comely
boy supposed to represent--and quite conceivably--the infant Nero.

Crossing the large Tuscan room again, we come to a little narrow room
filled with what are now called cabinet pictures: far too many to
study properly, but comprising a benignant old man's head, No. 1167,
which is sometimes called a Filippino Lippi and sometimes a Masaccio,
a fragment of a fresco; a boy from the serene perfect hand of Perugino,
No. 1217; two little panels by Fra Bartolommeo--No. 1161--painted for a
tabernacle to hold a Donatello relief and representing the Circumcision
and Nativity, in colours, and at the back a pretty Annunciation in
monochrome; No. 1235, on the opposite wall, a very sweet Mother and
Child by the same artist; a Perseus liberating Andromeda, by Piero
di Cosimo, No. 1312; two or three Lorenzo di Credis; two or three
Alloris; a portrait of Galeazzo Maria Sforza, by Antonio Pollaiuolo;
and three charming little scenes from the lives of S. John the Baptist
and the Virgin, by Fra Angelico, which belong properly to the predella
of an altar-piece that we saw in the first room we entered--No. 1290,
"The Coronation of the Virgin". No. 1162 has the gayest green dress
in it imaginable.

And here we enter the Tribuna, which is to the Uffizi what the Salon
Carre is to the Louvre: the special treasure-room of the gallery,
holding its most valuable pictures. But to-day there are as good works
outside it as in; for the Michelangelo has been moved to another
room, and Botticelli (to name no other) is not represented here at
all. Probably the statue famous as the Venus de' Medici would be
considered the Tribuna's chief possession; but not by me. Nor should
I vote either for Titian's Venus. In sculpture I should choose rather
the "Knife-sharpener," and among the pictures Raphael's "Madonna del
Cardellino," No. 1129. But this is not to suggest that everything
is not a masterpiece, for it is. Beginning at the door leading from
the room of the little pictures, we find, on our left, Raphael's
"Ignota," No. 1120, so rich and unfeeling, and then Francia