Probably no other collection of state papers exists that can compare in interest with the archives of Venice, now preserved in the Convent of the Frari, and most courteously at the disposal of all who seriously wish to study them. It is said that the two hundred and ninety-five rooms in which these archives are disposed contain more than fourteen million documents, the earliest dating from 883. Even so, many Venetian records were doubtless lost in the conflagrations between the thirteenth and sixteenth centuries, of which we have accounts, for there are some important periods quite blank; and as late as 1797 a mob invaded the Hall of the Council of Ten, and dispersed the papers found there, which would no doubt have been of great value. The knowledge that has been gained from these records and given to the world within a half-century is most important and entertaining, and we are greatly indebted to the numerous scholarly writers who have given us the results of their researches; but there remains much more to be done before the stores of information and entertainment in the archives of the Frari will be exhausted. It is from them that the true stories of Faliero, Pisani, Carmagnola, Caterina Cornaro, and others have been taken. They tell of all the great ceremonials, even to the minutest details. The letters of royal personages are there preserved. Civil and criminal trials, reports, {246} despatches, and, in short, every imaginable thing that could have happened, been suspected, or whispered in all Venice, seems to be there writ down. To the casual observer, perhaps the most striking feature of these papers is the attention given to matters of minor importance by the government of the Republic. We know that each department was concerned with its special subject, but concerned in such a way that we can almost learn what was eaten in a particular palace on a certain day centuries ago; and the manner in which matters that are regulated by custom or individual fancy in other countries were the subjects of special decrees in Venice, is most surprising. The papers of the secret chancellery, established in 1402, exceed all others in general interest. The direction of this department pertained to the Council of Ten; and here the story of the growth, splendor, and decline of the Republic can be read with all its complications. In the study of these papers, as they have been given us by patient writers, we are impressed anew with the utter disregard of individual interests and schemes, and the persistent devotion to the good of the Republic, first, last, and always. Venetians formed no syndicates, and profited by no monopolies. Venice was the syndicate, and the monopoly was hers. [Illustration: _Museo Civico; Formerly Palazzo Ferrara, later Fondaco dei Turchi._]