Beyond the walls, the whole sweet Valley of the Arno, the convent
at Fiesole, the Tower of Galileo, BOCCACCIO'S house, old villas and
retreats; innumerable spots of interest, all glowing in a landscape
of surpassing beauty steeped in the richest light; are spread
before us. Returning from so much brightness, how solemn and how
grand the streets again, with their great, dark, mournful palaces,
and many legends: not of siege, and war, and might, and Iron Hand
alone, but of the triumphant growth of peaceful Arts and Sciences.
What light is shed upon the world, at this day, from amidst these
rugged Palaces of Florence! Here, open to all comers, in their
beautiful and calm retreats, the ancient Sculptors are immortal,
side by side with Michael Angelo, Canova, Titian, Rembrandt,
Raphael, Poets, Historians, Philosophers--those illustrious men of
history, beside whom its crowned heads and harnessed warriors show
so poor and small, and are so soon forgotten. Here, the
imperishable part of noble minds survives, placid and equal, when
strongholds of assault and defence are overthrown; when the tyranny
of the many, or the few, or both, is but a tale; when Pride and
Power are so much cloistered dust.
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