Some cities in the world are as dear to us as people, but can such a feeling be justified towards a foreign city and above all, towards a city so intensely foreign as Florence? I believe so, and I should like to shpw how and why one can gradually become so bewitched by the fair land of Florence that, if forced to leave it, one is haunted by a longing to return. It is not always the first impression that conveys this enchantment. I remember my very first glimpse of Florence — how long ago ! — on a mournful autumn evening, grey and rainy. In the last century Florence was badly lighted.
FLORENCE! La Citta del Fiore! The City of Flowers! At the mere mention of its name visions rise in our minds of all that is beautiful in Art, and all that is...
