486 A walk through the Nat. History Museum at Florence. (May, | 
rises from cyclopean walls and spreads its wings grandiosely and 
lifts its vast stories forty feet in height, the structure to which we — 
propose to introduce the reader, is unpromising in the extreme | 
The eye of architectural taste would appear to have been effectu- 
ally closed while the façade was reconstructing, and every order 
and all order ignored. Windows of many forms and proportions — 
have been thrown together as though they were the remnantol — 
the stock of a dealer in old frames, and the singular effect thus — 
produced must be seen to be fully appreciated. The inevitable | 
barred windows in the piana terrena (ground floor) tell a story of 
former pretension to some dignity if not to opulent elegance, for 
the structure was once a palace. Though of unprepossessing & 
terior, this building is to us most interesting and attractive, and, 
we may add, one of the most creditable to the intelligence of Flor- 
ence, not because of any treasures of art that it holds, but for its 
treasures of Science, its illustrations of her struggles and x 
umphs: “ The life of nature is better than the dead bones of . 
Over a high portal and carriage entrance, observe an inscription 
and mark the purpose of this rude building, “ R. Museo di fisia | 
e Storia naturale.” Behold, we are at the door ọf the Academy 
and Museum of the Physical and Natural Sciences, and are | 
at once to enter. Within, a wide court open to the sky, appe 
and lofty gray columns around sustain the heavy walls above. fe 
. We find ourselves in an old-time palace, fortunately nol 
abode of opulent imbecility, but devoted to noble purposes 
gaze around: what is that great black globe that stands ere 
and alone in yon far corner of the colonnade? Approach! it 
“oe : ° : ar, a 
remnants of gilding, upon which a few faint lines app‘ ie | 
that it was once a terrestrial globe, and displayed, perhaps, +i 
geographical knowledge of the era which gave it birth. obe Bis d 
how sadly in eclipse does it now appear. That old g! tn ti 1 
revolved upon its axis for three centuries, and owes its onga | 
Ignazio Danti, a Dominican monk, who made the gee 
instruments still to be seen on the facade of the Church ‘ 
Novella. It once stood in the Palazzo Vecchio, ae go aod 
fingered by thousands, until the boundaries betweeen wh 
sea were no longer discernible, was passed over to the ration l 
and turned out of doors, happily, perhaps, for the rep" wed 
the geographer of the Grand Duke Cosmo I., whose i hor | 
of the New World in 1550, must have been rather hazy- : 
