THE METAL PIG. 261

quite distinctly, “ You little boy, hold tight, for now I am going
to run,” and away it ran with him. This was a wonderful ride.
First they got to the Pzazza del Granduca, and the metal horse
which carries the Duke’s statue neighed aloud, the painted coats
of arms on the old council-house looked like transparent pictures,
and Michael Angelo’s “ David” swung his sling: there was a
strange life stirring among them. The metal groups represent-
ing persons, and the rape of the Sabines, stood there as if they
were alive: a cry of mortal fear escaped them, and resounded
over the splendid square.

By the Palazzo Degli Ufizt, in the arcade, where the nobility
assemble for the Carnival amusements, the Metal Pig stopped.
“ Hold tight,” said the creature, “ for now we are going upstairs.” ©
The little boy spoke not a word, for he was half frightened, half
delighted.

They came into a long gallery where the boy had already been.
The walls shone with pictures; here stood statues and busts, all
in the most charming light, as if it had been broad day; but the
most beautiful of all was when the door of a side room opened :
the little boy could remember the splendour that was there, but
on this night everything shone in the most glorious colours.

Here stood a beautiful woman, as radiant in beauty as nature
and the greatest master of sculpture could make her: she moved
her graceful limbs, dolphins sprang at her feet, and immortality
shone out of her eyes. The world calls her the Venus de Medici.
By her side are statues in which the spirit of life has been breathed
into the stone ; they are handsome unclothed men. One was
sharpening a sword, and was called the Grinder ; the Wrestling
Gladiators formed another group ; and the sword was sharpened,
and they strove for the Goddess of Beauty.

The boy was dazzled by all this pomp : the walls gleamed with
bright colours, and everything was life and movement.

What splendour, what beauty shone from hall to hall ! and the
little boy saw everything plainly, for the Metal Pig went step by
step from one picture to another through all this scene of mag-
nificence. Each fresh glory effaced the last. One picture only
fixed itself firmly in his soul especially, through the very happy
children introduced into it, for these the little boy fancied he had
greeted in the daylight.

Many persons pass by this picture with indifference, and yet
it contains a treasure of poetry. It represents the Saviour de-
scending into hell. But these are not the damned whom the
spectator sees around him, they are heathen. The Florentine
Agniolo Bronzino painted this picture. Most beautiful is the
expression on the faces of the children,—the full confidence that
they will get to heaven. two little beings are already embracing,
and one little one stretches out his hand towards another who
stands below him, and points to himself as if he were saying, “I