to be in the past, but in the present. There is an air of
contemporaneousness about everything. Do you remember that story of
Jules Verne about a voyage to the moon? When the voyagers got a certain
distance from the earth they couldn't any longer drop things out of the
balloon. The articles they threw out didn't fall down. There wasn't any
down; everything was round about. Everything they had cast out followed
them. That's the way Rome makes you feel about history. That which
happened a thousand years ago is going on still. You can't get rid of
it. The Roman Republic is a live issue, and so is the Roman Empire, and
so is the Papacy.

"The other day they found a ruined Arch of Marcus Aurelius in Tripoli,
and began to restore it. New Italy is delighted at this confirmation of
its claims to sovereignty in North Africa. The newspapers treat Marcus
Aurelius as only a forerunner of Giolitti. By the way, I never heard of
Giolitti till I came over here. But it seems that he is a very great
man. But when ancient and modern history are mixed up it's hard to do
any clear thinking. And when you do get a clear thought you find out
that it isn't true. You know Dr. Johnson said something to the effect
that that man is little to be envied whose patriotism would not gain
force upon the plain of Marathon, or whose feelings would not grow
warmer among the ruins of Rome. Marathon is a simple proposition. But
when one is asked to warm his enthusiasm by means of the Roman
monuments, he naturally asks, 'Enthusiasm over what?' Of course, I don't
mean to give up. I'm faint though pursuing. But I'm afraid that Rome is
not a good place to rest in."

"I'm afraid not," I said, "if you insist on keeping on thinking. It is
not a good place in which to rest your mind."