"ART. II.—The Roman Pontiff shall have all the necessary guaranties for independence in the exercise of his spiritual power.
"ART. III.—The form of government of the Roman State shall be a pure democracy, and will take the glorious name of Roman Republic.
"ART. IV.—The Roman Republic shall have with the rest of Italy the relations exacted by a common nationality."
Between each of these expressive sentences the speaker paused; the great bell of the Capitol gave forth its solemn melodies; the cannon answered; while the crowd shouted, Viva la Republica! Viva Italia!
The imposing grandeur of the spectacle to me gave new force to the emotion that already swelled my heart; my nerves thrilled, and I longed to see in some answering glance a spark of Rienzi, a little of that soul which made my country what she is. The American at my side remained impassive. Receiving all his birthright from a triumph of democracy, he was quite indifferent to this manifestation on this consecrated spot. Passing the winter in Rome to study art, he was insensible to the artistic beauty of the scene,—insensible to this new life of that spirit from which all the forms he gazes at in galleries emanated. He "did not see the use of these popular demonstrations."
Again I must mention a remark of his, as a specimen of the ignorance in which Americans usually remain during their flighty visits to these scenes, where they associate only with one another. And I do it the rather as this seemed a really thoughtful, intelligent man; no vain, vulgar trifler. He said, "The people seem only to be looking on; they take no part."
What people? said I.
"Why, these around us; there is no other people."
There are a few beggars, errand-boys, and nurse-maids.