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 Flemish miniaturist with a fine sense of the open air and the movement of the seasons.  But it is hard to be put off with an ordinary bookseller’s traveller’s specimen instead of the real thing.  If one may be so near Titian’s autograph and the illuminated Divine Comedy, why not this treasure too?  January reveals a rich man at his table, dining alone, with his servitors and dogs about him; February’s scene is white with snow—­a small farm with the wife at the spinning-wheel, seen through the door, and various indications of cold, without; March shows the revival of field labours; April, a love scene among lords and ladies; May, a courtly festival; June, haymaking outside a fascinating city; July, sheep-shearing and reaping; August, the departure for the chase; September, grape-picking for the vintage; October, sowing seeds in a field near another fascinating city—­a busy scene of various activities; November, beating oak-trees to bring down acorns for the pigs; and December, a boar hunt—­the death.  And all most gaily coloured, with the signs of the Zodiac added.

The little building under the campanile is Sansovino’s Loggetta, which he seems to have set there as a proof of his wonderful catholicity—­to demonstrate that he was not only severe as in the Old Library, and Titanic as in the Giants, but that he had his gentler, sweeter thoughts too.  The Loggetta was destroyed by the fall of the campanile; but it has risen from its ruins with a freshness and vivacity that are bewildering.  It is possible indeed to think of its revivification as being more of a miracle than the new campanile:  for the new campanile was a straight-forward building feat, whereas to reconstruct Sansovino’s charm and delicacy required peculiar and very unusual gifts.  Yet there it is:  not what it was, of course, for the softening quality of old age has left it, yet very beautiful, and in a niche within a wonderful restoration of Sansovino’s group of the Madonna and Child with S. John.  The reliefs outside have been pieced together too, and though here and there a nose has gone, the effect remains admirable.  The glory of Venice is the subject of all.

The most superb of the external bronzes is the “Mercury” on the left of the facade.  To the patience and genius of Signor Giacomo Boni is the restored statuary of the Loggetta due; Cav.  Munaretti was responsible for the bronzes, and Signor Moretti for the building.  All honour to them!