THE SUN OF ITALY.

Oamaru Mail, Volume XLIV, Issue 14702, 1 June 1920, Page 2

THE SUN OF ITALY.

I (By Sir Philip Gibbs.)

DISSOLVING THE SPIRIT OF REVOLT.

When I passed through Italy in the autumn of last year there was a- discpntent. and an uneasiness in the public ( mind which seemed to- forebode revolutionary happenings. D'Annunzio had' iseized Fiume, inliaming popular passions. Demobilised soldiers were restless and unsatisfied. Labor was in revolt for higher wages, to meet prices which soared outrageously. Political parties were pouring forth manifestoes, placarded in violent type upon old walls and -modern pillars. i . The horizon in Italy looked black indeed, and wandering fellows, who are .students and recorders of war and revol lution, came to Rome to see the stormclouds break over a city whose stone's tell a'long history of human strife in the rise, and fall, and change, of civilisation in Europe. Since then Italy has passed through anxious days. But under the guidance of Signor Nitti, a strong man, who speaks true and fearless words to the people, telling them that there is. iio cure for the present poverty of the State except hard work, and not disguising the dreadful burden of debt they pay in avoidance of ruin, the Italians seem to have abandoned the spirit of revolution and civil strife. They are sick of the Fiume question. They are bringing oyer to Italy the starving and pest-stricken children of that unhappy port. They are still faced with a financial problem which ! is fantastic in. its arithmetic of debt and-exchange—there are 88 lira to the English £ —but now that the winter , has passed something has come to Italy ' which is soothing to the minds of the people, so that not revolution, but renaissance, is the spirit in them for awhile, and something which makes their poverty richer than other .people's wealth. It is the sun of Italy, j It is no wonder that in the beginning of Europe the ; people of this land were poets, as well as husbandmen, and heroes, and built up in their imagina- ' lion a world of nature gods, very gracious and fanciful, with the spirit of ; beauty, before thev were coarsened by : later' and baser passions, j Travelling, through Italy now, -in these April days, after years of war, the beauty of. the country puts its old spell upon one and brings back to one's 1 memory the half-forgotten myths of the pagan world, so that in the flowerstrewn valleys of the Appenine hills, i and in the sunlit bays of tlie blue Tlirh--1 reniau sea, one hears the i>ipes of Pan. the laughter of the Nereids, the danc- | ing hoofs of shaggy satyrs, and sees ! faintly, as one's,eyes are dazzled by ! this Italian sun of spring, the shining ! figures of Demeter, the protectress of ( the earth, and of Proserpine, who j comes back from the shades with the j first flowers of spring. | England was chilly when I • left, i France was swept with storms of rain. ; But in Tuscany on Easter Sunday all I the countryside was aglow with rich i and life-giving sunshine, so warm that | the dust lay white on the roads, and. .■the long-horned oxen lay basking dur- ■ ing a day of rest, and Italian peasants j in their Easter clothes—the lads of the ] village in new blue suits —lounged lazily on wooden benches under awnings" of wonderful wisteria —masses of j mauve blossom which in all . the vili lages, and in the heart of Rome, is like l a pale blue .flame on brown old walls. I The; speair-pointed cypress- trees are I black against the deep blue of the sky, and!, each leaf of the ilex trees is like- ; burnished bronze. ; Below the purple hills the orchardss are all white with ; the blossom of pear and apple trees, j as though snow, had fallen overnight, ' and the fields; fed by "the water of | canals or streams, are all glinting with • silver and gold where daisies and buti tercups grow more closely than in Engj lish meadows. _ _ - > The vines are in le'af, in, trellis-work upon the steep slopes below little oldtowns guarded with grey walls on the hill-tops, baked, and mellowed by a ' thousand years' of sunshine. Color sings to one's vision the gay . lilting songs of life, and in the sun of Italy discontent slips from one's soul. The ; world is .good. J Borne- is stijl crowded after Easter -week, when thousands of people thronged in from the provinces, and from Hi

France and Italy. In a few weeks another and greater invasion is expected—--50,000 at least—for tho ceremonies ot canonisation at St/ Peter's, when Joan of Arc will be acknowledged as a saint. Already the officials of the Vatican are busy with preparation for'a time when every Bishop within a hundred miles of Rome will come to do honor to t-lio peasant girl of France, and when scores of other. Bishops will attend from greater distances and many countries. The Eternal City is strongly garrisoned with troops, and in certain streets near ■ tlie Bank and the Quirinal gossipers -arc "moved on" lest they should be plotting conspiracy or strife. The gossip, 'nine times out of ten, is a shrill protest against the latest increase m the cost of. living, with waggings of forefingers and hands risen to heaven. Now that the sun is shining again even that discontent seems less intolerable. The spirit of revolution is dissolved by the warmth of nature. The Italian peasants are singing in their fields, and even in the old Borgo of Rome, which, since, the days of tTie Caesars, has been the meeting place of popular conspiracy, and tho starting place of riot, the Roman citizens in their vaulted workshops and narrow streets call out "buon' giorno" to the passers-by, and find life kind.