We hadn't time to walk over to San Lorenzo, so hailed a fiacre, and wandered about there for some time. I was delighted to see the Medici Chapel again and the famous monument of Lorenzo. He does look as if he were thinking out some great problem--I wonder what he would think of our go-ahead, unartistic world, and of our politicians, so timorous and afraid of responsibility--at least the men of that race were strong for good or for evil. When they wanted anything they did all they could to get it. I don't know that the women were behindhand either in energy when one thinks of Queen Catherine and of all the Huguenots she disposed of one summer evening in Paris. Do you remember our friend Mrs. A., a converted Catholic, whom we overheard one night at the Opera when they were shooting all the Huguenots in the last act, telling her daughter (remained a Protestant) that the Saint Bartholomew had nothing to do with Catholics and Protestants; was entirely a political move. We have had a long drive this afternoon with Mary and Charles, up the Poggio Imperiale--a stiff climb but such a beautiful road--villas, cypresses, olive trees, and roses everywhere. We went up to the Certosa, where a nice old monk, in his white dress, showed us the church and monastery. It was dark and rather cold in the church, and nothing particular to see--good frescoes and many coloured marbles--but the terrace outside was delightful. There were not too many beggars on the road considering that it is the favourite drive in Florence, and of course the carriage people are at a disadvantage as they must go slowly up the hill, and are escorted by a long troop of children singing, dancing with a sort of tambourine, turning somersaults, and enjoying life generally, whether they get a few pennies or not. It is very difficult to resist the children with their smiling faces and evident desire to amuse the "forestieri."