Italy of the Italians E-Book

Helen Zimmern

• Herausgeber: Word Well Books
• Kategorie: Geisteswissenschaft
• Sprache: Englisch

Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2022

Beschreibung

“Not England being guided and instructed about Italy, but Italy showing herself as she thinks, and feels, and hopes, and lives—this is the subject of Miss Zimmern’s book. Miss Zimmern has lived long and observantly in Italy; for twenty years she has not only studied her, but has succeeded in seeing things from the Italian point of view, and now writes of the real country, her hopes, works, true life and modern thought and influence. It is entirely different from books which describe Italy for the English person, and therein lies its novelty. The generous allowance of full-page plates carry out the intention of the author admirably, and show us the alluring country at her best.”  — The Bookman, 1906

Leseprobe

ITALY OF THE ITALIANS.

HELEN ZIMMERN

Originally published in New York, United States, in the year 1910

The text is in the public domain.

Modern Edition © 2022 by Word Well Books

The publishers have made all reasonable efforts to ensure this book is indeed in the Public Domain in any and all territories it has been published.

Created with Vellum

Italy, my Italy!

Queen Mary’s saying serves for me

(When fortune’s malice

Lost her Calais),

Open my heart and you will see

Graved inside of it, “Italy”

Such lovers old art I and she,

So it always was, so shall ever be!

CONTENTS

Foreword

Preface to the Fifth Edition

1. The King

2. The Press

3. Literature

4. The Painters

5. Sculpture And Architecture

6. Playhouses, Players, And Plays

7. Science And Inventions

8. Philosophy

9. Agrarian Italy

10. Industry And Commerce

11. Underground Italy

12. Music

13. Italy At Play

14. Education and Philanthropy

Epilogue

Notes

FOREWORD

SINCE that memorable year, 1870, Italy has, happily, ceased to be “a geographical expression,” as Prince Metternich contemptuously phrased it. Nevertheless, though thousands of travellers over-run her fair borders in the course of each year, in ever increasing numbers, to the greater proportion she still remains little else than a geographical expression, and her citizens are regarded either as the staffage to a lovely landscape or as the custodians of her artistic treasures. These travellers, too, seldom know the language of the land and hence are apt to get their information from guides, hotel porters, cabmen, and others the like. As a result they may see towns and museums but they get little or no idea of Italy's real life and civilization. Few stop even to wonder what are the impulses, the aims, the hopes, the ambitions that cause the heart of this land to pulsate with energy, that virtue on which her greatest poet, Dante, laid such stress. Few enquire what is her present position in the world of European thought. What she gave us in the past, how, together with Greece, we owe her all our culture, is familiar enough. Less familiar, on the other hand, is her contribution to the modern movement, her bequest to the fabrics of contemporary science, art, literature, and philosophy.

It is the aim of this book to give a popular reply to such questions as many an intelligent traveller would fain put, but which he is hindered from pronouncing by his scant knowledge of the language. It does not pretend to be either learned or exhaustive. It only desires to excite an intelligent curiosity in the hope of inducing its readers to prosecute studies on their own behalf in such sections of the vast theme as particularly appeal to their individual sympathies.

And here I must take occasion to acknowledge my grateful thanks to those who have generously supplied me with information, and especially I would mention Professor Giuseppe Signorini, the late Signor Alfredo Bona, Marchese Ridolfo Peruzzi, Conte Giorgio Mannini, Commendatore Guido Biagi, and Mr. George Gregory Smith. I also acknowledge the permission accorded by the editors of the Cornhill Magazine and the Fortnightly Review to reprint portions of my own articles. My affectionate thanks are also due to my cousin, Mr. Alfred E. Zimmern, of New College, Oxford, for kind advice, encouragement, and assistance in proofreading.

HELEN ZIMMERN.

Palazzo, Buondelmonti, Florence.

August 1, 1906.

PREFACE TO THE FIFTH EDITION

SINCE this book was first issued the war with Turkey has accomplished the true unification of Italy and revealed even to Italians themselves that new Italy of which as a rule the English still know so little. Travellers still regard Italy too much as a holiday land and almost resent the presence of the Italians. They come hither stored with aesthetic and sentimental knowledge, but ignorant of the life surging around them, and but too often they are both deaf and dumb, so that they make no Italian acquaintances and go away little wiser than they came. It was in the endeavour to help obliterate some of the current misconceptions, to induce people to take an interest not only in the dead but also in the living Italians, that this book was originally written, and the favour it has met with, and the demand for a fifth edition, shows that such an interest did exist, even if frequently overlaid with futile talk and an ill-judged pose of superiority. This attitude, too frequently adopted by foreign visitors, and even by foreign residents in the land, is, very properly, keenly resented by the Italians.

So rapidly have things gone ahead, such is the progress made by this people, that this new edition has required much, revision and in part rewriting. Besides much additional matter, I have added an entirely new chapter.

I have to thank the National Home Reading Union for permitting me to reprint portions of a series of articles lately written by me for them on Social Life in Modern Italy. I have also to thank Count Giorgio Mannini, Signor Antonio Maraini, Dr. Roberto Assagioli, and my sister Miss Alice Zimmern for useful suggestions and information, and above all I have to thank Mr. J. C. Powell for invaluable assistance in reading and correcting my MSS.

1

THE KING

IT iS told on excellent authority that Queen Victoria, whose long experience of men and things had made her a keen observer, picked out the Prince of Naples from among all the heirs to European monarchies as the most promising and able. Time has justified the old Queen's prophecy. There sits no wiser, keener, more cultured or more modern sovereign on any throne ; none who more thoroughly identifies himself with his country or better understands its needs. And all the King does is done so quietly and unobtrusively, without fireworks of phrase or parade of action, that even in Italy it has taken a little while to find out and gauge the new sovereign’s value. Still, when he ascended the throne with the new century but a few months begun, it was instinctively hoped, if not felt, that a new and better era was dawning for Italy, and a great wave of hope greeted his advent.

In order to understand the full reason for this it is needful to cast a bird's-eye glance over Italian politics. At the time of King Humbert's murder (July 29th, 1900) there were unmistakable signs in the air of the near approach of a catastrophe in Italian domestic affairs. A malign influence was leading the various rapidly succeeding Ministries, each and all devoid of a definite programme, along a road of injudicious acts at the end of which loomed the downfall of the Monarchy. The murderer Bresci by his dastardly act saved the monarchical principle in Italy and secured the dynasty to the House of Savoy. King Humbert was no self asserting monarch, it may even be said that he was too constitutional for a young country like Italy where political principles have not yet become fixed. For a strong personality can make itself felt even under the constitutional curb, as witness Humbert's own father, Victor Emmanuel II and our King Edward VII.

THEIR MAJESTIES< THE KING AND QUEEn OF ITALY AND THEIR CHILDREN

Before the corpse of the King, a good-hearted man if not a wise sovereign, before the blood thus wantonly shed, the various political parties stood dismayed and felt it was necessary to draw together and act in patriotic concert ere it became too late. For, as they suddenly perceived, now that their eyes were opened, if the wranglings of political parties and the preachings of extremists were to result in the abolition of the monarchy, the result would have been civil war, a fresh dismemberment of Italy, and renewed foreign intervention.

Beyond question the errors of the Italian Government since the too early death of Cavour, the only Italian statesman endowed with real practical aptitude, have been many and great. The fact that Italy was made too quickly, the revolution was too suddenly successful : there had not been enough time to allow of the training of free-born citizens. As the patriot Massimo d’Azeglio said, “Italy is made, we must now make the Italians.” It would, of course, be absurd to expect a young nation like Italy to have stable arrangements, or precise aims such as pertain to nations that can count centuries of life. Rather, if we look at what Italy was little more than fifty years ago, we have reason to be astonished at the striking advance she has made in so short a time and may well place high hopes upon a people who have given proof of such exuberant and recuperative vitality.

The troubles under which Italy groans are of two-fold nature, or rather the one is the result of the other. In a land for centuries broken up into petty states no sense of cohesion could exist. Provincialism is rampant and corrodes all the various sections of public life. But instead of taking into account these sectional differences and utilizing them as helpful factors, instead of keeping alive the autonomous character of these various provinces, the Italian statesmen who had made Italy looked around them for an example to copy for the framing of their administrative and executive power, and most unluckily hit upon France as their model. Now, France has for long been autonomous, her people love system and uniformity and are essentially logical. The keynote to the Italian character, on the other hand, is individualism, and all the past glories of the land, whether as cities, or petty states, sprang from that fact. Then, suddenly, without previous preparation or training, these were all squeezed into one mould.

The administrative system, for instance, included the institution in each government department of a Prefect, an anomalous and, to British ideas, most mischievous functionary who resides in the chief city of a province as the representative of the government, holding office during their pleasure and exercising a pressure and a surveillance on the local functionaries with whom he has nothing in common. Thus the cities at once come under a divided rule, that of the Municipality and that of the Prefect, often with unfortunate results. In the same way authority over the police is divided and there are two sorts, municipal and governmental, and these by no means work into each other's hands—often quite the contrary.

But, while copying the French administrative arrangement, Italy, unfortunately, did not copy its tributary system of taxation. Instead, they took a little from this country, a little from that, with hopeless results; this is noteworthy in their adoption of the English Income Tax, which is in no respects a toll suited to the Italian temperament. Long years of mis-rule and oppression have made the Italians secretive and mistrustful of all governments, the truth where it can be is carefully hidden, and the public treasury suffers. No Italian thinks it wrong to cheat the Government, quite the contrary. “Fatta la legge, trovato l’inganno,” says a proverb, which means to all intents and purposes that when a law is made the means to circumvent it must also be provided. Nor is this to be wondered at when we learn that the Income Tax, for example, is most arbitrarily assessed, not on a man's income but according to its nature and source, varying from 9 to 20 per cent., and that even the pettiest salaries must contribute their quota. Land pays an exorbitantly high tax, from 30 to even 50 per cent., and consequently rarely yields more than 3 per cent. And almost worse than the taxes themselves is the way they are collected and assigned. The citizen is hampered and vexed at every point, all initiative is damped, industries are strangled while but half-fledged, and time, that precious commercial commodity, is wasted with a criminal disregard of the interests of others. To speak only of the most familiar, every-day matters, when I get the paper telling me that my house-taxes are due and what they amount to, I am not able, as in England, to pay the tax gatherer at the door and have done with it. I must go in person or send a servant between given hours to a given place. Even if my messenger arrives there two hours before the time assigned, à long queue is standing before the closed guichet. When that is opened each man in turn comes up, but as interminable sheets of writing must be filled and also much friendly conversation exchanged, it is highly probable that my messenger will return after some weary hours spent standing in a crowd to find that the office hours were over, and the guichet closed ere ever he could hand in his dole. No cheques are accepted in payment, the money may not be sent by postal order, but must be paid cash down, and in person. As a facility it is permitted to pay the local taxes in five instalments, and Italians will five times a year submit uncomplainingly to this corvée. Needless to say, foreigners prefer to pay in the lump, to the constant amazement of the people, who always remark: “But if you should die before the year is out you will have made a present to the Government”; never comprehending that we foreigners would rather run that risk and give the Government a few needless pence than have our time wasted in this wise.

The fiscal policy of Italy also weighs heavily upon its hygiene. The heavy tax on salt, which is a Government monopoly, puts its use almost out of reach of the poorer class, and deprives the agriculturist of the power to give this most needful aliment to his beasts. And to such extremes is this salt monopoly carried that it is not possible when staying at the seaside to take home a bucket of sea-water in order to take a bath, except with a written permission from the authorities, to obtain which is, of course, a matter of time and expense. The Government is so afraid lest the people might, by evaporation, procure for themselves a little rough salt that even the loneliest bits of the coast are patrolled by finance officers. Here again, as in the case of the town octroi, one asks, Can it possibly pay ?

The tax on sugar, too, is an unfortunate one, especially nowadays that the nutritive value of sugar for the young is recognised. So dear is this commodity that it is a current Anglo-Italian joke to ask strangers whether they take their tea with or without “gold.” But for this fiscal burden Italy might drive a thriving trade in jams and marmalades. Instead, the Italian fruit crops are exported to Switzerland, a land where sugar is cheap and which, therefore, reaps the profit. Yet another unwise restriction concerns tobacco. The preparation and sale of this is also a Government monopoly, consequently though whole districts of the South are admirably suited for the cultivation of this plant it is strictly forbidden to grow it, and even in private gardens not more than three plants are allowed. And where it is grown, under Government supervision, every leaf is counted. Shops, usually small but very numerous, bearing the superscription “ Sale, Tabacchi e Francobolli,” (salt, tobacco, and stamps), are familiar features of Italian streets.

HIS MAJESTY THE KING OF ITALY

In these ways, by a short-sighted and narrow-minded fiscal policy, the Italian exchequer loses vast sums that it might gain. It is a constant cause of complaint that large sums are absorbed by the Army, and, indeed, this Army is one of the Socialist stalking horses. Yet in sober fact the absurd illogical fiscal system is far more costly and damaging to the finances of the land.

And this unwisdom goes through every branch of the Administration. This is the reason, for instance, that there are so few companies in Italy. Apart from the fact that the profound mutual mistrust, which is so deep-rooted in the Italian character, makes them work badly together, it is not possible for companies to hide their profits; these must, of necessity, be made public, and it is too easy for the taxgatherer to squeeze the life out of the enterprise before it has taken a fair hold. Such few companies as exist are apt to have their chief seat outside the frontiers, say at Lugano, which would be Italian except for a geographical accident. It is in ways such as these that the exchequer is circumvented.

Because of these same vexatious fiscal laws Italians often find it cheaper and simpler to let their capital lie idle than to employ it only to come in contact with these greedy vultures. That commerce and industry have of late years advanced by leaps and bounds in the face of these restrictions, shows how rich the land might be if a more modern, just and reasonable system of taxation were introduced.

Yet another irksome restriction is the requirement that every trifling public document must be written on stamped paper of varying value and that only a small portion of the paper may be written on; each fresh sheet, of course, means new outlay, and a blot or an erasure invalidates the sheet. This same objection to erasures applies even to the common-place telegraph form. If you change your wording you must take a fresh form or initial the change. At every unexpected moment the public comes in contact with bureaucratic pedantry. Here, again, France and Germany have served as models. Foreigners are constantly coming into contact with these little vexations. If, for example, your purse is stolen or a cab knocks you down, you must state your name, your age, your address, your father's name, whether he be living or dead, and your mother's maiden cognomen, before the police can attend to your grievance. Yet, despite these passing absurdities, Italy is without exception the freest land on the Continent, and the one in which the ordinary foreigner comes least into conflict with the police regulations, which render a sojourn in Germany, for example, so mixed a blessing.

Industry is hampered by a tariff at the frontier. But these are not the only hindrances to free trade. The mediæval Octroi is still a living institution in Italy, confining the town within barriers and gates. At each of these stand a small army of officials, local and governmental, who poke their fingers into every basket and bundle, harry the peasants and delay the traveller, whether he walk or drive, or ride in tram or 'bus. If you live in a villa outside the gate and wish to take your table to be mended by the carpenter, you must pay duty on bringing in your own used property, or you must sign so many papers and go through so many formalities in order to get exemption that again you prefer to give the town the few pence. For this Octroi tax really entails only pence. It weighs very gravely, nevertheless, upon the peasant who brings in his market produce for sale and has perhaps to take it back unsold, and, of course, it raises the price of all comestibles. Everyone who can cheats the Octroi or helps others to cheat. No market woman in a tram with a basket full of, say, eggs or grapes will find any fine lady who refuses to let it stand under her skirts while the gate is passed and the Octroi men walk through the vehicle. It must surely cost the State more to keep up this staff of Custom officers at each town gate than they take in cash. However, Italians themselves maintain that it does pay. And in its incidence one comes in contact again with the curious pedantry that lurks in the Italian character. In vain, for instance, did a party of tourists who had bought a little bottle of Chartreuse outside the gates of Florence and incautiously held it in their laps offer to pay 50 c., even a franc rather than the 4 c. that proved to be the custom dues, provided they were not detained as they feared to lose their train. It was useless : the bottle had to be weighed, appraised, the endless papers had to be written out and signed and countersigned.

All this writing involves an enormous waste of time and energy in all departments of public life. Even at the railway the name of stations has constantly to be inserted in ink on the tickets, and as the box offices are not open all the time, as in practical Switzerland, but only a short time before the train is scheduled to start, the delay and confusion engendered is great. And, again, as blotting-paper is as yet a commodity unknown in Italian official life and all papers are sanded over, a further dawdle occurs in strewing this unwonted material over the written words and re-collecting it in the saucers.

This same curious want of practical ability in administrative matters makes itself felt in many spheres. It is the more curious that this should also exist in the domain of banking when we remember that it was Italians who, in the Middle Ages, were Europe's bankers, and that Italian banking terms are still current the world over. Ink, paper and pens must really be a considerable item in Italian public expenditure.

Again, what precious time is wasted in the law courts from the fact that there is no such thing as an official stenographer. If you are called as a witness into an Italian court your exact words are not taken down, but the presiding magistrate dictates a synopsis of your statements to a scribe sitting beside him, who transcribes it with great deliberation. The consequence is that not your own words but the official's personal impression of your testimony is recorded, and what loophole this leaves for confusion and misapprehension need not be dwelt on.

All these flaws would, of course, have to be altered by law, and here, again, the obstructive element is the intense centralization. For, as the judicial and administrative life is bound up with the executive, and governments change with bewildering rapidity, there is continual vacillation and a want of firm ground in all departments, which is a grievous hindrance to the progress of the country, a source of grave weakness to public life.

All Italian public life has its outcome in Parliament. The deputies play a leading part in all work and initiative, and of every business arrangement, both legal and illegal. Yet despite this fact, Italian Parliamentary life is somewhat of a chaos. Political parties can hardly be said to exist, for the old wellmarked parties who made United Italy are submerged and the modern divisions which take their place are not genuine parties but factions actuated by a selfish struggle for office, too often dominated by time-servers and place-hunters, among whom corruption is rife and rampant. Were we to judge of Italy from what we see from behind the scenes in the Chamber of Deputies our esteem for the land would be lowered. But, happily, the land is better than its Parliament, and its weaknesses are only too fully realized. The saying that every country has the government it deserves is only applicable here insofar that the Italian is lazy about going to the polling booths and thus allows the wire pullers to obtan the upper hand and get their candidates returned.

Nor are Italians wholly to be blamed for this inertia. Elections are too apt to be manipulated by the Prefects put in on purpose and by others who wish to secure the return of the Government nominee, and to oppose the dominant current may lead to petty annoyances. It is true that in private or in public, at cafés or in trains, Italians will talk endlessly upon public affairs and will cure and criticize their Government to any extent. But when it comes to going to the polling booths abstainers are but too numerous, and in all other ways, too, none lift a finger to remedy the defects they deplore. I except, of course, the Socialists, who understand the value of association, and it is herein that their strength resides.

At first the Right and Left were well-marked parties somewhat corresponding to our Liberals and Conservatives, though these Conservatives would have been classed as Liberals in England, since the one really Conservative element, the Catholic, was excluded from voting by the Papal veto; this has been so ever since the Papacy refused to recognize the changed conditions and withdrew, like Achilles, with its henchmen from the fray. It was first Depretis, then Crispi who lowered the standard of Parliamentary morality, and when Crispi’s “swelled head finally brought disaster on the land, this morality was so relaxed and the faith of the country in Parliamentary government so weakened that it was possible for him to be succeeded by the unscrupulous Giolitti, who was deeply involved in the bank scandals and an advocate of political corruption. He again was succeeded by others of more or less repute. For in Italy Ministries spring up like mushrooms and rise and fall, recompose and reconstruct themselves with such frequency that the whole system ha got discredited, and it is often difficult to keep up with its vagaries. King Humbert, as I said before, was in a measure to blame for this. His father had bequeathed him a far stronger kingdom than he passed on to his son. He was far too easy-going, too good-natured, and, what was worse, too much out of touch with his people, and surrounded by a system so hampered by red tape that he never had a chance of hearing the truth. Though a lion in courage physically, he was mentally timid, and was not fitted to clear out the Augean stable which his Parliament had created. Hence his death, deplorable as it was, permitted a thorough change of front.

The young King, like a clever surgeon, at once cut deep into the gangrene of decay. He who had hitherto been an unknown quantity, as to whose nature men who were not behind the scenes speculated vastly, showed a determination, a knowledge, an energy, and a rectitude that instantly commanded respect and attention.

Victor Emmanuel Gennaro, now King of Italy with the title of Victor Emmanuel III, was born at Naples on November 11th, 1869. His infancy was spent at Court, where he was brought up and educated under the immediate and intelligent supervision of his mother, Queen Margherita, one of the most cultured of Italy’s noble ladies. He was trained from the first to love simplicity and virtue, and since he inherited much more of his grandfather’s energetic and self-willed character than of the weak and too kindly temperament of his father, he showed, even from a child, that when it should be his turn to reign he would not prove to be the useless, dumb, and obsequious symbol of a particular form of political government, but would show himself a man before whose will the will of others would have to bend and if need be, break. Of his childhood various anecdotes are told, which, even when declared to be apocryphal, remain as proof that the people cared little for, and were distrustful of, the ”little prince.” In very deed, in some of these boyish escapades the man peeped through, and showed not only the outline, but almost the whole being of the king who, when he had scarcely ascended the throne, frankly forbade his Ministers to spend their evenings at the café or club, giving them to understand that since the work that is expected of them is great, they should not be able to find time to waste in such frivolous diversions. King Humbert, to whom the too haughty character of his son caused secret disquiet, often, perhaps with more frequency than justice, put the Prince of Naples under arrest. During these days of confinement the young man meditated deeply, pondered plans of campaign, and threw himself with ardour into the study of history, of which he has always been a profound and eager student. He also devoted even more attention to the acquisition of medals and coins, collected by him since his earliest boyhood, which has made of him one of the most expert numismatists in Europe. Meanwhile, between physical exercises and hard study, his mind and body acquired shape and strength; consequently, though neither tall and muscular like his father and grandfather, Victor Emmanuel III is robust like all his race. He can sit for hours n the saddle without feeling the least fatigue or discomfort; he can remain for long periods without taking food. It is true that his present good health and vigour were acquired by painful measures, and it is not unknown in Italy that the young prince might have become consumptive had not the King, his father, changed the severe curriculum of studies just in time, and given his son permission to travel, and leave his tutors and masters for months together. The voyages the young prince took during those years of ill-health, besides affording him a vast amount of information, by which he amply profited, completely restored his health, though he to this day has the outward appearance of frailty, and is undersized in stature.

It has been said that Victor Emmanuel III much resembles the German Emperor. A wide application must, in this case, be given to the word “resembles.” Victor Emmanuel has revealed himself as a man of clear conceptions and iron will, but the Italian constitution does not afford him the power of making and unmaking possessed by his august cousin, nor is it at all likely that he would wish to pose as a vice-God on earth. In one phase of his character, but in only one, Victor Emmanuel truly seems to resemble William of Hohenzollern, and that is in his supreme strength of will. On ascending the throne, the first words he uttered were words that announced his firmness, words that cannot hope to spring once more in the hearts of the Italian people.

In fact, the one thing which has struck all Italians is that Victor Emmanuel III has from the first shown himself intelligent. For some reason unexplained the people had grown to believe him a fool. The reason may be sought in the fact that he lived in much retirement and never caused the public to talk of him or of his deeds. In these days, when all the small fry of literature and art, and, still more, of politics, are ever trying to draw the eyes of the public upon themselves, and keep beating the big drum of self-advertisement, to let it be known that they also exist in the world, this young man, who might easily have won applause, playing as he did one of the chief rôles in the comedy of life, persisted in remaining behind the scenes, occupied in his private studies, and in the latter years absorbed in the love of his young and beautiful wife.

In Italy, where all know that Queen Margherita exerted as much influence on the Government as King Humbert himself-an influence, however, not applied with a proper knowledge of social conditions—it seemed strange that the Crown Prince should take so little interest in public affairs as to allow the King's weakness and the incapacity and stupidity of his Ministers to endanger and compromise his crown. No explanation of this phenomenon was forthcoming, except by concluding that the Prince was an imbecile. It is true that when the ambitious improvidence of Francesco Crispi led the Italian soldiery under the orders of General Baratieri to the dire defeat of “Abba Carima,” Prince Victor Emmanuel, in the presence of the King, his father, burst into vehement abuse of the hapless Minister, reproaching him with the defeat, and at the same time cast in his face the other senseless and ugly deeds performed by his political allies. But as the King, after the outburst, once more consigned his son to arrest, the Prince speedily re-entered the shadow from which he had but an instant emerged at a moment of overwhelming disgust, and once more he seemed to exist for nothing else than his studies, his travels, his numismatic collection. He thus furnished a noble example of a respectful son, loving his father more than the throne which might one day be his. He also at the same time took the stand of a man who intended to keep his hands free to act in his own way on the day when he should be called by the course of events to rule over Italy. And, in fact, when the tragedy of Monza forced him to take up his father's burden, his first words were those of a man not bound by the past, of a man who could and would renew the sorely shaken structure of Italian political life.

Victor Emmanuel III's first words inspired the confidence that he could and would take as monarch the place he must occupy if Italian monarchy was to be saved from the breakers of civil war. A thorough and intelligent study of social science has made of this young man a king ripe to govern new generations in this new age. He is not burdened with antiquated notions which see ruin in every reform, or an enemy of public institutions in every friend of new social and political theories. As a soldier and head of the Army he feels the imperious necessity of maintaining it as a sound, strong and faithful defender of the public institutions and of the fatherland. But as a citizen and head of his subjects he also understands their urgent needs, and feels that scope must be given to new energy, and to fresh social arrangements, by means of speedy reforms, which shall be logical, and prudent, and yet profound, and set a limit to the overwhelming fury of the extreme parties, which would drag the country into desperate struggles, fruitless of result, and fatal to all prosperity. The King never passes a day without reading the papers of the Extreme parties' factions, often making notes and comments with his own hand. In the same way he occupies himself with everything that emanates from the groups of the Parliamentary Opposition. An indefatigable worker, he has insisted, to the no small amazement and consternation of his subordinates, from the first day of his power, that all decrees that require his signature shall be presented to him at least three days beforehand, in order that he may supervise, study and control everything before giving to any act, even the most insignificant, the sanction of his approval and sign manual.

Accustomed from childhood to search out for himself the truth of things, as soon as he ascended the throne he desired to see how the directors of charitable institutions fulfilled their trusts, and during his retired stay in Naples during the first weeks of mourning, some acts are quoted which well reveal his character, showing that he knows both how to punish and reward those who harm or those who benefit his country. Here are the facts.

One morning he arrived very early and very unexpectedly at one of the principal hospitals of Naples. He entered, passed through the passages, visited the dispensing room, the consulting office, the kitchen, and in fact inspected the whole establishment. Finding it was not attended to as it should be, he used harsh words to the director. “ The poor are not to be treated thus.” The director endeavoured to make excuses and defend himself. Victor Emmanuel looked at him, said nothing, and went out. His silence," said a spectator, was harsher than his words.” Another day he descended unexpectedly among the palace guards. He inspected their quarters, visited the soldiers, tasted their food, and praised their good order. He evinced his satisfaction and let it be known to the person responsible that he might be proud of such well-merited praise. On another occasion a courageous and intelligent railway pointsman saved from certain disaster a train just entering a station. The railway company gave the man a niggardly reward. The King, unable to make the company understand in any other way the meanness of their behaviour, himself sent to the pointsman a sum much larger than that presented by the company. The railway company then tried to remedy the matter, but it was too late, and they were put to shame. Some time ago the King appeared in his favourite unexpected way in a dockyard. He questioned the workmen, visited a ship in the course of construction, took accurate note of everything noteworthy that presented itself, and praised and blamed where praise and blame seemed merited. This, in short, is one of the ways in which Victor Emmanuel interprets his kingly mission.

And since truly in Italy there is much to blame, and since no words are so efficacious as the words of the King, the people who know this perceive at last that their sovereign is not what they had taken him for during the long years of retirement and oblivion. Hence Italy as a nation has fixed her last and greatest hope upon him, and he in turn has already inspired his people with respect and esteem. An upright man, with a lofty conception of the duties imposed by a throne, he wishes all other men to do their duty, from the highest to the lowest, in all spheres of government, in all classes, in all groups and associations of the nation.

“In Italy,” he said in one of his first speeches, “no man does his duty. From the highest to the lowest the laissez faire and laxity are complete. Now it is to the accomplishment of their several duties that all without distinction must be called. I begin with myself, and am trying to do my duty conscientiously and with love. This must serve as an example and a spur to others. My Ministers must help me in everything. They must not promise except that which they can certainly maintain ; they must not create illusions. Whoever fulfils his duty, braving every danger, even death, I shall consider the best citizen.” (Severe words these, but, unfortunately, not unmerited.) Victor Emmanuel has long been accustomed to do his duty. Just as he knew and understood his obligations as Crown Prince, as subject, as son, and scrupulously performed them, so now as King he knows how much weightier these duties are, but has determined to accomplish them all. He wishes to know everything that occurs in his realm; he wishes to discuss everything with his Ministers, and this because he intends to give to all the acts of his reign his personal impress, so that Italy may through his example and his decision and purpose hold once more the high place among the nations to which she is entitled by her historic past. And, fortunately, he is well supported in his home. There is probably not a man in all Europe more happily married than the King of Italy, or one who cares more sincerely for a quiet, domestic life; for he is blessed in his wife and his three bonnie babes, the youngest of whom to the joy of the nation is a boy-Prince Humbert of Piedmont, as he is styled to recall the name and title borne by his grandfather.

It may be said in a sense that Queen Elena was not born in the purple, and indeed when the Prince of Naples’ determined choice was first known, some few aristocrats, including the Duchess of Aosta, whose husband was Heir Presumptive, failing issue from the Prince of Naples, made some caustic references to her relatively humble origin. For the little mountain principality of Montenegro is ruled over by a descendant of one of those mountain chiefs who distinguished himself in the constant warfare waged by this Highland people against their traditional and life-long enemies—the Turks. In a rude, simple, stony land, where patriarchal manners and customs still obtain, the Princess had been inured to a plain, homely existence since her childhood, and though part of her education was given to her outside the rocky fastnesses of her home and amid Russian Court circles, as she had been destined for the Czar, she nevertheless had acquired all the civic virtues that distinguish her family. A fine performer on the violin, a lover of art and poetry, she writes a little herself in her native Servian tongue. A good walker, rider, and sportswoman, tall, and physically strong, she reveals in every action and movement her chaste, proud, mountain ancestry. The couple met first at the Venice Exhibition of 1895, and at once the Prince of Naples determined that Elena of Montenegro should be his bride. When opposition was made by Crispi for political reasons, he told his parents that if he did not marry Elena he would marry no other princess. Fortunately, King Humbert overbore the Minister's objections by declaring that he approved of the choice and that the Princess was the descendant of a brave race that had fought for liberty. “The house of Montenegro,” he said, “like my own house, is synonymous with liberty.”

HER MAJESTY THE QUEEN WITH THE PRINCESSES

In October, 1896, the marriage was solemnized in Rome after the Princess had formally abjured the Greek Catholic faith in favour of the Roman Catholic form. Since that time she has been her husband's right hand and comfort. But all she does is done quietly, unobtrusively. Both husband and wife avoid all show and pomp whenever this is possible. Indeed, Italians complain that they lead too quiet and retired a life, and do not receive or show themselves enough. When passing through a city they continually request that the money that would have been spent in entertaining them should be given to the poor instead. For their charity is boundless. Indeed, the Queen's chief interest, outside of her family, is centred in the amelioration of the condition of the people, and especially in schools and charities for children. Like the King, she is an enthusiastic motorist, and in this way they are often able to appear unexpectedly in distant places and to see with their own eyes whether matters are properly conducted.

Were the King but an autocrat, as even the most Liberal cannot help wishing at times, how much faster reforms might be effected! In that case Italy would attain more speedily to that high place among the nations to which she is inevitably tending. But he has to reckon with and to work with the Chamber.

The Italian Parliament consists of two Chambers, an Upper and a Lower House; the former is styled the Senate, the latter the House of Deputies. The number of Senators is unlimited and they are nominated by the King for life. They are chosen from men distinguished for State and other services, men who pay over 3,000 lire annually in taxes, and men who have three times been elected Deputies. They receive no salary, they meet rarely, and it may frankly be stated that their influence is slight. The House of Deputies, or the Chamber, as it is more commonly called, consists of 508 members, whose only qualification is that they must be Italian subjects and not less than thirty years of age. They, too, are unpaid, but, like the Senators, enjoy the privilege of free passes on all the trains and steamers of the realm. When elected, a deputy is given a gold medal about the size of a sovereign which he generally wears on his watch chain, and this serves as his pass. Each Parliament is supposed to last five years, but rarely attains that age. Every male subject who can read and write and pays 20 francs in direct taxation is qualified as an elector. The Kingdom is divided into electoral districts. The official expenses are paid by the Commune, but the personal by the candidate himself. Bribery is forbidden by law, but occurs nevertheless in various forms. It does not, however, attain to such proportions as in England the days of the Reform Bill of 1832. It is needful to remember this ere casting the Pharisaical stone.

A very unfortunate institution, also copied from France, is the second ballot, which results in putting great power into the hands of the minority, as owing to it they can dispose of their votes to whichever party they please. This puerile, but in its effects most mischievous, invention is based upon the theory that it does not suffice for a man to have the largest number of votes but he must have a number equal to the half as much again as have been cast for his adversary. If this is not attained, a fresh election must take place. This not only prolongs the electoral agitation and disturbs the land, but opens the door for a number of undesirable expedients in order to obtain the missing votes. It was to this practice of a second ballot that Emile Ollivier attributed the rapid downfall of the Third Empire.

EXTERIOR OF THE CHAMBER OF DEPUTIES

The Deputy elected, he takes his seat at Montecitorio, a seventeenth-century palace built by Bernini for the Ludovisi family and once the headquarters of the Papal Law Courts. Its semi-circular inner courtyard has been converted into the auditorium and is only a wooden erection. Again and again has it been pronounced unsafe, and the project ventilated of erecting a building specially designed to meet modern requirements. The seats are arranged in fan shape, as in a Greek theatre, flights of steps breaking the sections into divisions. Each member has his own place with a desk in front in which he can keep his papers ; this seat he retains during the whole life of the Parliament for which he is elected. As plans of the House can be bought, a stranger can thus at once ascertain the name of a member. The President who is elected by the House for one session only, holds a purely honorary office and receives no salary, neither has he any robes of office. When he wants to call the House to order he rings a small hand-bell, but if a tumult of Southern words is raging his efforts in this respect are often ludicrously ineffectual. He sits in the centre of a slightly raised platform, and just below, level with the floor, sit the Ministers in gilt armchairs before a long table. The general public are admitted to the various galleries that run round the semi-circular space. That reserved for ladies is not screened off as in our own House of Commons. The House meets daily at 2 p.m., and usually rises at 6:30, but it may sit as late as 10 p.m. If business is pressing it may even sit on Sundays. When a session opens the members are sworn in in a body. The President reads the oath, “I swear to be faithful to the King and to be faithful to all the laws of the State for the good of the King and the country,” and the members answer “I swear.” An easy and friendly tone obtains among the Deputies. They call each other “Tu” (Thou), always a sign of intimacy in Italy, even if they are strangers, as though to mark their solidarity. They are constantly on the move in the body of the House, talking with friends and foes. Still, despite all this friendly intercourse great attention is paid to outer forms. Onorevole (Honourable) is always prefixed to their names in public address, even when such scenes are raging as unfortunately at times disgrace Continental Parliaments. No time-limit is placed upon the speeches of members. If a speaker be a favourite he is generally surrounded by friends and admirers who interrupt his words with their applause.

INTERIOR OF THE ITALIAN PARLIAMENT