Another but a shorter excursion from the abbey leads by a winding pathway […] to an hermitage, or rather a little convent […] This romantic hermitage is called, partly, I suppose, from its situation and prospect, and partly from its internal conveniences, Paradisino; and I must confess, that I never visited an abode better calculated to furnish the hermit with all the aids of meditation, and all the luxuries of holy retirement. From his window he may behold the Val d' Arno, and the splendours of Florence, at a distance too great to dazzle; around him he sees all the grandeur and all the gloom of rocks, forests, and mountains; by his fountain side he may hear the tinkling of rills and the roaring of torrents. Sometimes too, while absorbed in meditation, the swell of the distant organ and the voices of the choir far below may steal upon his ear, and prompt the song of praise. This retreat, so suited to the genius of a Gray or a Milton, is now occupied by a lay-brother, who resides in it merely to keep it clean, a task which he performs with great care and success.