roads are generally smothered in dust. Now, dusty boots are a scandal
and an offence in the eyes of the gentle burghers, who accordingly never
issue out of their town walls. They have forgotten the use of ordinary
appliances of country life, such as thick boots and walking-sticks; you
will not see them hereabouts. Unaware of this idiosyncrasy, I used to
carry a stick on my way through the streets into the surroundings, but
left it at home on learning that I was regarded as a kind of
perambulating earthquake. The spectacle of a man clattering through the
streets on horseback, such as one often sees at Venosa, would cause them
to barricade their doors and prepare for the last judgment.

Altogether, essentially nice creatures, lotus-eaters, fearful of fuss or
novelty, and drowsily satisfied with themselves and life in general. The
breezy healthfulness of travel, the teachings of art or science, the
joys of rivers and green lanes--all these things are a closed book to
them. Their interests are narrowed down to the purely human: a case of
partial atrophy. For the purely human needs a corrective; it is not
sufficiently humbling, and that is exactly what makes them so
supercilious. We must take a little account of the Cosmos nowadays--it
helps to rectify our bearings. They have their history, no doubt. But
save for that one gleam of Periclean sunshine the record, though long
and varied, is sufficiently inglorious and does not testify to undue
exertions.

A change is at hand.

Gregorovius lamented the filthy condition of the old town. It is now
spotless.

He deplored that Taranto possessed no museum. This again is changed, and