unset, which throws a softer charm over the scene; the
magnificent cattle; the fine horses; the bewitching girls, with their
broad hats of Tuscan straw; the city itself, with its gloomy old
palaces, iron-grated and massive walled, from the ancient holds of
street-fighting nobles, long since passed away, to the severe Etruscan
majesty of the Pitti Palace; behold Florence!

It is the abode of peace, gentleness, and kindly pleasure (or at any
rate it was so when the Club was there). Every stone in its pavement
has a charm. Other cities may please; Florence alone can win enduring
love. It is one of the very few which a man can select as a permanent
home, and never repent of his decision. In fact, it is probably the
only city on earth which a stranger can live in and make for himself
a true home, so pleasant as to make desire for any other simply
impossible.

[Illustration: Florence From San Miniato.]

In Florence there is a large English population, drawn there by two
powerful attractions. The first is the beauty of the place, with
its healthy climate, its unrivalled collections of art, and its
connection with the world at large. The second is the astonishing
cheapness of living, though, alas! this is greatly changed from
former times, since Florence has become the capital of Italy.
Formerly a palace could be rented for a trifle, troops of servants
for another trifle, and the table could be furnished from day to day
with rarities and delicacies innumerable for another trifle. It is,
therefore, a paradise for the respectable poor, the needy men of
intelligence, and perhaps it may be added, for the shabby genteel.
There is a glorious congregation of dilettante, literati, savans; a
blessed brotherhood of artists and authors; here gather political
philosophers of every grade. It was all this even under the Grand
Duke of refreshing memory; hereafter it will be the same, only,
perhaps, a little more so, under the new influences which it shall
acquire and exert as the metropolis of a great kingdom.

The Florentines are the most polished people under the sun. The
Parisians claim this proud pre-eminence, but it can not be
maintained. Amid the brilliancies of Parisian life there are
fearful memories of bloody revolutions, brutal fights, and
blood-thirsty cruelties. No such events as these mar the fair
pages of later Florentine history. In fact, the forbearance and
gentleness of the people have been perhaps to their disadvant