September 25th.--U---- and I walked to town yesterday morning, and went
to the Uffizi gallery. It is not a pleasant thought that we are so soon
to give up this gallery, with little prospect (none, or hardly any, on my
part) of ever seeing it again. It interests me and all of us far more
than the gallery of the Pitti Palace, wherefore I know not, for the
latter is the richer of the two in admirable pictures. Perhaps it is the
picturesque variety of the Uffizi--the combination of painting,
sculpture, gems, and bronzes--that makes the charm. The Tribune, too, is
the richest room in all the world; a heart that draws all hearts to it.
The Dutch pictures, moreover, give a homely, human interest to the
Uffizi; and I really think that the frequency of Andrea del Santo's
productions at the Pitti Palace--looking so very like masterpieces, yet
lacking the soul of art and nature--have much to do with the weariness
that comes from better acquaintance with the latter gallery. The
splendor of the gilded and frescoed saloons is perhaps another bore; but,
after all, my memory will often tread there as long as I live.
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