esteemed honour above all else in the world, and was so upright a man of
his word, that no temptation could induce him to break it, of which he
gave frequent proof to his lords, who, for that as well as other
qualities, considered him rather as a father or brother than as their
agent or steward, honouring in him an excellence that was no pretence,
but his true nature."

Sansovino died in 1570, and he was buried at San Gimignano, in a church
that he himself had built. In 1807, this church being demolished, his
remains were transferred to the Seminario della Salute in Venice, where
they now are.

Adjoining the Old Library is the Mint, now S. Mark's Library, which may
be both seen and used by strangers. It is not exactly a British Museum
Reading-room, for there are but twelve tables with six seats at each,
but judging by its usually empty state, it more than suffices for the
scholarly needs of Venice. Upstairs you are shown various treasures
brought together by Cardinal Bessarione: MSS., autographs, illuminated
books, and incunabula. A fourteenth-century Dante lies open, with
coloured pictures: the poet very short on one page and very tall on the
next, and Virgil, at his side, very like Christ. A _Relazione della
Morte de Anna Regina de Francia_, a fifteenth-century work, has a
curious picture of the queen's burial. The first book ever printed in
Venice is here: Cicero's _Epistolae_, 1469, from the press of Johannes di
Spira, which was followed by an edition of Pliny the Younger. A fine
Venetian _Hypnerotomachia_, 1499, is here, and a very beautiful
Herodotus with lovely type from the press of Gregorius of Venice in
1494. Old bindings may be seen too, among them a lavish Byzantine
example with enamels and mosaics. The exhibited autographs include
Titian's hand large and forcible; Leopardi's, very neat; Goldoni's,
delicate and self-conscious; Galileo's, much in earnest; and a poem by
Tasso with myriad afterthoughts.

But the one idea of the custodian is to get you to admire the famous
Grimani Breviary--not alas! in the original, which is not shown, but in
a coloured reproduction. Very well, you say; and then discover that the
privilege of displaying it is the perquisite of a rusty old colleague.
That is to say, one custodian extols the work in order that another may
reap a second harvest by turning its leaves. This delightful book dates
from the early sixteenth century and is the work of some ingenious and
masterly Flem