ed for the utmost
prudence, as a certain French speaker, whom I will not name, but who
wished to make a like attempt, learnt to his cost. The Italian is
generous, courteous, hospitable, expansive and enthusiastic, but also
proud and susceptible. He does not readily allow another to dictate
his conduct, to reproach him with his shortcomings or to offer him
advice. He is conscious of his own worth; he knows that he is the
eldest son of our civilization and that no one has the right to
patronize him. It is necessary, therefore, beneath the appearance of
the most fiery and unbridled eloquence, to observe perfect
self-mastery, combined with infinite tact and discretion. It is often
essential to divine instantaneously the temper of the crowd, to bow
before the most varied and unexpected circumstances and to profit by
them. I remember, among others, a singularly prickly meeting at
Naples. The Neapolitans are hardly warlike people; but they none the
less felt on this occasion that they must not appear indifferent to
the generous movement which was thrilling the rest of Italy. At the
last moment, we were warned that we might speak of Belgium and her
misfortunes, but that any too pointed allusion to the war, any too
violent attack upon the Teutonic bandits would arouse protests which
might injure our cause. I, being no orator, had only my poor written
speech, which, as I could not alter it, became dangerous. It was
necessary to prepare the ground. Destree mounted the platform and, in
a masterly improvisation, began by establishing a long, patient and
scholarly parallel between Flemish and Italian art, between the great
painters of Florence and Venice and those of Flanders and Brabant; and
thence, by imperceptible degrees, he shifted his ground to the present
distress in Belgium, to the atrocities and infamies committed by her
oppressors, to the whole story, to the whole series of injustices, to
the whole danger of this nameless war. He was applauded; the barriers
were broken down. Anything added to what he had said was superfluous;
but everything was permissible.

3

For the rest, it must be admitted that a wonderful impulse of pity and
admiration for Belgium sustained the orator and lent his every word a
range and a potency which it could not otherwise have possessed. This
unanimous and spontaneous sympathy assumed at times the most touching
and unexpected forms. All difficulties were smoothed away before us as
by magic; th