For instance, a young fellow in no way distinguished from his companions, fell to talking about a leading townsman, and praised him for his _ingenio simpatico, his bella intelligenza_, with exclamations of approval from those who listened.

No, it is not merely the difference between homely Anglo-Saxon and a language of classic origin; there is a radical distinction of thought.

These people have an innate respect for things of the mind, which is wholly lacking to a typical Englishman.

One need not dwell upon the point that their animation was supported by a tiny cup of coffee or a glass of lemonade; this is a matter of climate and racial constitution; but I noticed the entire absence of a certain kind of jocoseness which is so naturally associated with spirituous liquors; no talk could have been less offensive.

From many a bar-parlour in English country towns I have gone away heavy with tedium and disgust; the cafe at Catanzaro seemed, in comparison, a place of assembly for wits and philosophers.
Meanwhile a season of rain had begun; heavy skies warned me that I must not hope for a renewal of sunny idleness on this mountain top; it would be well if intervals of cheerful weather lighted my further course by the Ionian Sea.