We can no longer turn our thoughts from the treasures of art
which make Perugia rich above all cities of the Tiber, save Rome
alone. We cannot tarry before the cathedral, noble despite its
incompleteness and the unsightly alterations of later times, and full
of fine paintings and matchless wood-carving and wrought metal and
precious sculptures; nor before the Palazzo Communale, another grand
Gothic wreck, equally dignified and degraded; nor even beside the
great fountain erected six hundred years ago by Nicolo and Giovanni da
Pisa, the chiefs and founders of the Tuscan school of sculpture; nor
beneath the statue of Pope Julius III., which Hawthorne has made known
to all; for there are a score of churches and palaces, each with its
priceless Perugino, and drawings and designs by his pupil Raphael
in his lovely "first manner," which has so much of the Eden-like
innocence of his master; and the Academy of Fine Arts, where one may
study the Umbrian school at leisure; and last, but not least, the Sala
del Cambio, or Hall of Exchange, where Perugino may be seen in his
glory. It is not a hall of imposing size, so that nothing interferes
with the impression of the frescoes which gaze upon you from every
side as you enter. Or no; they do not gaze upon you nor return your
glance, but look sweetly and serenely forth, as if with eyes never
bent on earthly things. The right-hand wall is dedicated to the sibyls
and prophets, the left to the greatest sages and heroes of antiquity.
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