avo. In each volume is a different portrait of Goldoni, facsimile of
manuscripts, and the reproduction of literary curiosities.

The monograph of Goldoni was issued by the press of the Venetian
Institute of Graphic Art in a limited number of copies.

It contains more than three hundred printed pages and a series of very
interesting illustrations. Among these are the reproductions of ancient
engravings which are most rare (such as the view of the Grimani Theatre
at San Giovanni Crisostomo, a famous theatre existing in the days of the
Venetian republic, but now demolished), frontispieces of destroyed
editions, and other personal memorials. The revival of the splendid work
of the famous artist was one of the attractions of the festa of
celebration. The art exhibition of Venice in this spring of 1907 was
very picturesque. One special salon was allotted to the artists of Great
Britain, and there was a fine loan collection of the portraits of
English noblemen painted by Mr. Sargent. This salon was decorated with
panels by Frank Brangwyn.

Venice forever remains a dream, a mirage, an enchantment. Has it a
recognized social life, with "seasons" that come and go? Has it trade,
commerce, traffic? Has it any existence save on the artist's canvas, in
the poet's vision? Has it a resident population to whom it is a home,
and not the pilgrimage of passionate pilgrims?

There are those who find this Venice of all the year round a society of
stately nobles whose ancestral claims are identified with the history of
the city and who are at home in its palaces and gondolas, but of this
resident life the visitor is less aware than of that in any other city
in Italy. For him it remains forever in his memory as the crowning
glory of June evenings when the full, golden moon hangs over towers and
walls, when gondolas freighted with Venetian singers loom up out of the
shadows and fill the air with melody that echoes as in dreams, and that
vanishes--one knows not when or where. Mr. Howells, in his delightful
"Venetian Days," has interpreted much of that life that the tourist
never recognizes, that eludes his sight; and the Dream City still, to
the visitor who comes and goes, shrouds itself in myth and mystery. One
of the poetic visions of Venice is that given in Robert Underwood
Johnson's "Browning at Asolo" (inscribed to Mrs. Arthur Bronson), of
which the opening stanzas run:--

"This is the loggia Browning loved,
High on the flank