In the days to come, as through all time that is
past, man will lord it over his fellow, and earth will be stained
red from veins of young and old. That sweet and sounding name of
patria becomes an illusion and a curse; linked with the
pretentious modernism, civilization, it serves as plea to the
latter-day barbarian, ravening and reckless under his civil garb.
How can one greatly wish for the consolidation and prosperity of
Italy, knowing that national vigour tends more and more to
international fear and hatred? They who perished that Italy might be
born again, dreamt of other things than old savagery clanging in new
weapons. In our day there is but one Italian patriot; he who tills
the soil, and sows, and reaps, ignorant or careless of all beyond
his furrowed field.
Whilst I was still thinking of that memorial tablet, I found myself
in front of the Cathedral. As a structure it makes small appeal,
dating only from the seventeenth century, and heavily restored in
times more recent; but the first sight of the facade is strangely
stirring. For across the whole front, in great letters which one who
runs may read, is carved a line from the Acts of the Apostles: -
"Circumlegentes devenimus Rhegium."
Save only those sonorous words which circle the dome of S. Peter's,
I have seen no inscription on Christian temple which seemed to me so
impressive.
