eyed
upon by death, standing as she did amidst that sterile desert of the
Campagna. Then he compared her with the other cities which are jealous of
her; first Florence, which, however, has become so indifferent and so
sceptical, impregnated with a happy heedlessness which seems inexplicable
when one remembers the frantic passions, and the torrents of blood
rolling through her history; next Naples, which yet remains content with
her bright sun, and whose childish people enjoy their ignorance and
wretchedness so indolently that one knows not whether one ought to pity
them; next Venice, which has resigned herself to remaining a marvel of
ancient art, which one ought to put under glass so as to preserve her
intact, slumbering amid the sovereign pomp of her annals; next Genoa,
which is absorbed in trade, still active and bustling, one of the last
queens of that Mediterranean, that insignificant lake which was once the
opulent central sea, whose waters carried the wealth of the world; and
then particularly Turin and Milan, those industrial and commercial
centres, which are so full of life and so modernised that tourists
disdain them as not being "Italian" cities, both of them having saved
themselves from ruin by entering into that Western evolution which is
preparing the next century. Ah! that old land of Italy, ought one to
leave it all as a dusty museum for the pleasure of artistic souls, leave
it to crumble away, even as its little towns of Magna Graecia, Umbria,
and Tuscany are already crumbling, like exquisite _bibelots_ which one
dares not repair for fear that one might spoil their character. At all
events, there must either be death, death soon and inevitable, or else
the pick of the demolisher, the tottering walls thrown to the ground, and
cities of labour, science, and health created on all sides; in one word,
a new Italy really rising from the ashes of the old one, and adapted to
the new civilisation into which humanity is entering.

"However, why despair?" Orlando continued energetically. "Rome may weigh
heavily on our shoulders, but she is none the less the summit we coveted.
We are here, and we shall stay here awaiting events. Even if the
population does not increase it at least remains stationary at a figure
of some 400,000 souls, and the movement of increase may set in again when
the causes which stopped it shall have ceased. Our blunder was to think
that Rome would become a Paris or Berlin; but, so far, all sor