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CHAPTER SIXTEEN
The Italian Universities give their students wide latitude. The Law course consists of four years and covers approximately twenty subjects, some of which may be substituted with equal credit. There are several classes of “liberi docenti” or free teachers who are non-salaried members of the faculty. For every subject there is a more or less voluminous text book or mimeographed pamphlets issued by the respective professors.
Classes meet according to schedule, but there are no roll calls, no compulsory attendance, no periodical tests. No written examinations are required, but only oral ones, occurring twice a year, February- March and June-July. These examinations are conducted by three professors, each one of them having a vote up or ten. The passing mark is a total of eighteen. At the University of Rome the examinations take place in a private room. Students who do not receive passing marks can submit to new examinations, without prejudice, until promoted. Some of them remain enlisted for several years beyond the prescribed limit, suffering the penalty of annual fees.
The professors are permitted to maintain their private practice and engage in public activities. They are all broad-visioned men who consider teaching one of the outstanding honors of civic service.
Their textbooks are only incidentally referred to in their lectures, which are on a high plane, within the subject. I shall mention a few cases.
Enrico Ferri taught criminal law, but always expanded into the field of anthropological and social criminology. He was an outstanding criminal lawyer, a member of the Parliament and one of the greatest orators then living.
Luigi Luzzatti taught fiscal science, but talked mainly on the pressing problems of national and international finances. He was a prominent economist and, as Minister of the Treasury, was responsible for many…
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…sound fiscal policies. He was a venerable person, a fluent speaker, who loved applauses at the end of this lectures.
Emmanuele Orlando taught constitutional law, but delved deep into the political history of Italy. He was a devoted public servant and Prime Minister during the last period of the First World War. At the Peace Conference he lived up to the ideals of a scholarly gentleman, deferring to the wishes of President Wilson and innocently sacrificing the interests of his slight Country to the short-sighted selfishness of Lloyd George and Clemenceau, who in a large measure left the legacy of this Second War.
I could mention many more of those men who preserved the true traditions of Italian Universities, by inspiring and stirring the minds of the students rather than by academic teaching.
An exception to the rule was Professor Filomusi-Guelfi, a senior member of the faculty who taught Philosophy of Law. This was on the “must” list of all freshmen. At the opening session, the classroom was filled to capacity, but gradually you saw the audience listless and drowsy as a congregation during a dull sermon. To keep awake, I started to make stenographic notes, Shorthand was then a rare art. I was self-tutored and had acquired a fairly good skill. Filomusi-Guelfi was a strict pedagogue and kept close to this textbook which in itself was not very clear, without his verbal explanations.
My hieroglyphics were notice by my classmates and, at the end of the class, the suggestion was made that I transcribe the notes and pass them around. That led to the idea of making polygraphic copies, which I sold at a few cents each. The system was improved and I became the official stenographer in Philosophy of Law, with most of the freshmen as my subscribers. It was a great deal fo labor, but it brought me a nice little revenue and many friends, among whom a well-to-do student from Bologna who insisted on my giving him private instructions on that subject and Roman laws, which were studied in their original text.
He had a luxurious apartment and a personal valet who also did the cooking for him. Beside being often his guest at dinner, I was well compensated for my effort. He was a fine young man, modest to the point of being apologetic for his wealth and was studying law for its social…
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…asset. However, he was a conscientious hard worker and managed to come through.
The class of Philosophy of Law became thinner and thinner until there was only a handful of freshies listening to the dogmatic Professor. Therefore, my polygraphic business was assured for the year.
The lectures which I attended religiously and with enthusiasm were those given by the Hon. Professor Enrico Ferri. I filled a large book of stenographic notes for my own record. It would have been a physical hardship to translate them in long-hand and there would have been no demand for them, as those lectures had nothing to do with the examinations. My assiduous attendance and interest brought me to the attention of that great man who, one day, came to my seat and congratulated me for knowing the making use of stenography. That was the beginning of a friendship which had much weight in my life.
Enrico Ferri was a tall, handsome man, with fluffy curly hair – somewhat like Einstein’s – a broad forehead, sparkling eyes, aquiline nose and a mephistophelian beard. Every time, when getting ready to talk, he would survey the audience with hypnotic eyes and suddenly he would turn pale, as under the spell of his emotions and deep thoughts. A few seconds of suspended animation and his silvery voice would fill the room without pause. He outdid Cicero in the length of his sentences. Some times we feared that he would lose the thread of his first subject, thought the labyrinth of subordinate ideas, but he always came back with clearness and precision and we had a sense of relief. He held before him a small sheet of short titles, underscored with red, blue and green pencil, which indicated the emphasis to be given to the various topics, but he hardly seemed to glance at those notes. He had the mind of a genius.
In public life, Enrico Ferri was a congressman, representing the socialist party. I was favored by him with a permanent pass to the public gallery of the Chamber of Deputies, Montecitorio, where very few could be accommodated, and I followed him in every major debate. I shall never forget his scathing attack of several hours against Admiral Bettolo who, as Minister of the Navy, had permitted soft, inferior armor plates to be installed on new battleships. “Your face” he shouted to Admiral Bettolo “is much tougher than those steel plates.” There was a country-wide upheaval and the unearthing of much scandalous corruption.
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Enrico Ferri was also editor of the socialist paper “Avanti” which had a wide circulation from the Alps to the southernmost tip of Sicily. The daily editorials by Ferri, published on the front page, were eagerly read by all classes. During World War I, Mussolini became editor of the “Avanti” and used it as a potent medium to bring Italy to the side of the Allies.
My early University days, as you see, were mixed with the introduction to Law, to new political ideas and to the glories of old Rome. In this vortex of things there was a pleasant interlude. The freshmen had a custom of giving and initiation ceremony to the youngest member of the class. During the second month, a poll was taken and I as found to be the junior by more than two years. The celebration took place at a large “osteria” which was once a pagan temple. The floor was probably ten feet below grade, owing to the gradual raising of the environs above the former street level, a common condition found in old Rome.
I was blindfolded, put through some antics and awarded a testimonial in humoresque latin, signed by my classmates.
“Gnocchi alla romana,” one of the multiform noodle species, “abbacchio al forno” (baked spring lamb), artichokes, a specialty of the tavern, and wine without limit put us shortly in fine fettle. String music helped to keep the pot boiling. Some of us took a hand at the instruments. On “request” I contributed a couple of vaudeville sketches. We all joined in songs and cheers.
(photo)
Law Freshman at 17
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It was nearly midnight. The moon was full. an excursion to the Colosseum was proposed and unanimously voted.
The Colosseum in the moonlight is a fatuous, unearthly sight. The ponderous pile towers in solemn silence. The white moon deepens the shadows. The arena is magnified in size. The arcades are like cavernous jaws, ready to swallow the interlopers. A weird feeling seems to creep in all of us. We try to sing but our threats are choky. There is a subtle and then an overpowering consciousness of the holocausts witnessed in this monstrous bowl. We are all decidedly sober. Like onrushing waves recoil tamely from sandy shores, the jaunty, frothy freshmen of a few minutes before, gloomily crawl out.
On the following day, skipping one or two uninteresting classes, I went back to visit the Colosseum, as if to wipe out the recollections of a bad dream. Approaching from the southern end, I am facing the Triumphal Arch of Constantine with its generous sweep and remarkably well preserved sculptures, recording historic events. Walking toward the Colosseum, which lies in a depressed area, supposedly in the site of an artificial lake in Nero’s gardens, I see the remains of the Meta Sudans, formerly a beautiful fountain. Further to the north is a big square base of masonry, where once stood a colossal bronze statue of Nero, ordered by the emperor himself, after the burning of Rome in A.D. 64.
Although ravaged by fire, time and man, disgraced forever by the black memories of Christian martyrdom, the Colosseum still is one of the most stupendous structures and the largest stadium in the world. It was founded by Vespasian and completed A.D. 80.
The exterior consists of large blocks of travertine stone, held together by iron clamps. The interior is of “tufo” (hard clay) and brick. One of the remaining sections has its full height of four stories, the first three formed into arcades, respectively supported by Doric, Ionic and Corinthian half-columns. The top story is enclosed by a wall with windows framed by Corinthian pilasters. Records tell that statues were standing in the arcades of the second and third floors.
In the middle ages, the destruction of the Colosseum was started by barons, popes and cardinals, removing materials to build other structures, such as the Palazzo Farnese in Rome and the Palazzo S. Marco in Venice. On the entire facade gaping holes are seen, from where valuable bronze plaques had been extracted.
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The battered interior shows many tiers of seats. The upper tiers occupied by the common people, were enclosed by a colonnade over the roof of which imperial sailors were assigned to stretch canvas on the entire amphitheater, for protection against sun and rain. The total capacity is said to have been close to 90,000 seats, all numbered and divided by sufficient staircases to enable the emptying of the stadium within a few minutes.
The first event of gladiatorial, naval contests and wild-beasts fights is said to have lasted one hundred days, during which five thousand wild animals were killed. Under the Arena, along the foundation walls, were gladiators’ chambers and animals’ pens.
In the fifth century, the spread of Christianity stopped the brutality of wild-beast fights. In the eighteenth century the interior of the Colosseum was consecrated to the Passion of Christ. In 1925 a large wooden cross was erected in the center of the Arena.
I spent many months rambling through the glorious relics of the Ancient City and surveying the great treasures of Christian father, which together make of Rome the most precious heritage of western civilization. It was a dee and lasting education. I regret that the confines of this story do not permit me to recount all my memories.
In closing this chapter, a sad note cannot be repressed. At the solemn presentation of the Honorary Degree to Dr. Butler, in 1927, it was my privilege – and painful experience – to be seated next to Enrico Ferri, the magnetic figure I have written of…now haggard in body, distracted of mind…a mere phantom of the radiant Master who, less than 25 years before, had unfolded before us new field of criminology, inspired us with loftier concepts of social justice and political integrity.
It wrenched my heart to be close to him again, squeeze his unresponsive hand, unable to revive a spark of the past! Merciful God, why let such a great man so wither, if his work is done?
Next: Chapter 17
