DOI Page / Citation link:
https://doi.org/10.11588/diglit.61902#0414
394
THE MAKERS OF FLORENCE.
the natural obscurity of a humble brotherhood. For a
hundred years it had been foremost in goodness and
genius. Angelico, Antonino, Savonarola, Bartolommeo, a
fair succession, had made it famous in art and good works,
and placed its friars at the head of such a revolution and
reformation as Italy has never seen. Now the greatness
and the fame effaced themselves, tragic shadows of an un-
deserved disgrace having followed the crowning glory.
The gentle image of Fra Bartelommeo, however, wiped
out those harsher evils, and consigned the home of so many
great spirits to a natural, soft, and beautiful decay.
And Florence, to which such springs of new life and
freedom had come, inspired by that Dominican whom she
slaughtered in her public square, fell into a decay of all
her noble qualities which was not beautiful. One effort
still the better soul of the great city made before it suc-
cumbed to tyranny and servitude. And of that last effort
we will now try, so far as our space permits, to make an
imperfect record, that the story of which we have attempted
to trace the beginning may have at least an indication
of what was its end—though not the real ending of the
great perpetual city built for the future as well as for the
past.
THE MAKERS OF FLORENCE.
the natural obscurity of a humble brotherhood. For a
hundred years it had been foremost in goodness and
genius. Angelico, Antonino, Savonarola, Bartolommeo, a
fair succession, had made it famous in art and good works,
and placed its friars at the head of such a revolution and
reformation as Italy has never seen. Now the greatness
and the fame effaced themselves, tragic shadows of an un-
deserved disgrace having followed the crowning glory.
The gentle image of Fra Bartelommeo, however, wiped
out those harsher evils, and consigned the home of so many
great spirits to a natural, soft, and beautiful decay.
And Florence, to which such springs of new life and
freedom had come, inspired by that Dominican whom she
slaughtered in her public square, fell into a decay of all
her noble qualities which was not beautiful. One effort
still the better soul of the great city made before it suc-
cumbed to tyranny and servitude. And of that last effort
we will now try, so far as our space permits, to make an
imperfect record, that the story of which we have attempted
to trace the beginning may have at least an indication
of what was its end—though not the real ending of the
great perpetual city built for the future as well as for the
past.