“In Rome,” replied the young man.
“To defend the Pope?” asked the lady with perfect sincerity.
The young man looked at her and answered with an ingenuous smile,
“No, indeed!”
That no provoked a tempest. The lady, forgetting that the young man was an Italian and her guest, broke out into such a fury of invective against King Victor, the Piedmontese government, and Italy from the time the army entered Rome to the War of the Marches and Umbria that the ill-fated stranger turned as white as a sheet with her scolding. But he controlled himself and did not say a word, allowing the other Italians, who were friends of long standing, to defend the honor of their country. The discussion was continued to some length, and finally brought to a close. The lady found that she had allowed herself to be carried too far, and showed that she regretted her action; but it was very evident from her words that she, and doubtless a great many others, were convinced that the unification of Italy had been accomplished against the will of the Italian people by Piedmont, the king, the greed of power, and the hatred of religion.
The common people, however, are republican, and, as they have the reputation of being quicker of action than those who talk more, they are feared.
In Spain, whenever they wish to circulate a report of an approaching revolution, they always begin by saying that it will break out in Barcelona, or that it is on the point of breaking out, or has broken out.
The Catalans do not wish to be thought of as on a common footing with the Spaniards of the other provinces. “We are Spaniards,” they say, “but, be it understood, of Catalonia—a people, to be brief, that labor and think; a people to whose ears the din of machinery is more pleasant than the music of the guitar. We do not envy Andalusia her romance, the praises of her poets, nor the paintings of her artists; we are content to be the most serious and industrious people of Spain.” In fact, they speak of their brothers of the South as at one time, though seldom now, the Piedmontese used to speak of the Neapolitans and the Tuscans: “Yes, they have genius, imagination, sweet speech, and amusement; but we, on the contrary, have greater force of will, greater aptitude for science, better popular education, ... and moreover, ... character....” I met a Catalonian, a gentleman distinguished for his ability and learning, who lamented that the War of Independence had too closely affiliated the different provinces of Spain, whence it resulted that the Catalonians had contracted some of the bad habits of the Southerners, while the latter had acquired none of the good qualities of the Catalans. “We have become mas ligeros de casco” (lighter of head), he said, and he would not be comforted.
A merchant of whom I asked what he thought of the Castilian character answered brusquely that in his opinion it would be a fortunate thing for Catalonia if there were no railroad between Barcelona and Madrid, because commerce with that race corrupted the character and the customs of the Catalan people. When they speak of a long-winded deputy, they say, “Oh yes, he is an Andalusian.”
They ridicule the poetic language of the Andalusians, their soft pronunciation, their childish gaiety, their vanity and effeminacy.