admittance. Everyone felt that without Rome as capital the work of redemption, of unity, was incomplete. The question was taken up and hotly discussed by the new Parliament while in the first flush of national pride. Cavour made one of his most masterly and telling speeches on the subject, which produced a powerful effect, and enchanted the king. He said, 'I consider myself bound to proclaim in the most solemn manner before the nation the necessity of having Rome for the capital of Italy, for without Rome for the capital Italy cannot be constituted.'

The Parliament and the nation felt with him, but they were not willing, like him, to temporise and wait. The very name of Rome had a magic sound in it which fired the souls of the Italians into a frenzied enthusiasm. One must be Italian [says the Spaniard Castelar, in his Old and New Italy], one must feel southern blood in one's veins, must have been educated in this glorious history, under the painted wings of classic poetry, to comprehend all the influences that Rome exercises over the Italian mind. Those who wished to make Italy a monarchy, and afterwards denied her the capital which is hers by nature, did but construct a headless body.

Cavour was resolved to have Rome for the capital, and that at no distant day. He was even then opening negotiations with the Emperor Napoleon on the subject, for without the concurrence of France he would not take any action in the matter, and there is little doubt

that the question would have been brought to a speedy solution if he had been spared another year to put the finishing stroke to his great work. But Garibaldi, and the extreme party whom he represented, did not want to work in accord with France; the Roman difficulty, they thought, should be solved not by diplomacy, but by the sword. The cession of Nice and Savoy was still fresh in the memory of the general, and in a debate on the condition of the army in Naples, he bitterly attacked the premier, winding up by saying, 'Never will I extend my hand to those who have made me a foreigner in Italy.'

Count Cavour was deeply wounded. He rose to reply with a visible emotion, which by a great effort he conquered, defending himself with splendid eloquence and powerful reasoning, but with calmness and dignity, an absence of all personal resentment, that won the sympathy of all. It was one of his finest speeches; alas! that it should have been one of his last.

I know [said he] that between me and the honourable General Garibaldi there exists a fact which divides us two like an abyss. I believed that I fulfilled a painful duty-the most painful that I ever accomplished in my life in counselling the king, and proposing to Parliament to approve the cession of Nice and Savoy to France. By the grief that I then experienced I can understand that which the honourable General Garibaldi must have felt, and if he cannot forgive me this act I will not bear him any grudge for it.

Remembering how soon that eloquent voice was to be hushed in the silence of the tomb, it is pleasant to be able to record that the general, at the earnest request of the king, sought a friendly explanation with Cavour, and offered that stainless palm of his,

Horny with grasp of the familiar hilt,

to the great statesman whom he so imperfectly understood and so often wronged.

Meantime the new kingdom was threatened with an interdict, the last and most extreme punishment with which an offending prince and people can be visited by the Pontiff. The Pope had exhausted himself in protests, censures, and anathemas; his ammunition was almost spent; there only remained this great gun to let off; it might miss fire and fall harmless like the others, still the fear of it might have some effect. But no, Victor Emmanuel was only becoming more hardened by familiarity with cursings. One of his ministers warned him that an interdict could not take effect in his state unless the document were put into the hands of the sovereign. If that is the case,' replied the king, 'you may be content. Whenever I see a priest who looks as if he wanted to speak to me, I will put my hands in my pockets, and never take them out till he is gone.'

The Piedmontese were wont to celebrate as a great festival the anniversary of the Statuto granted by Carlo Alberto in 1848, and now this fête, coming round just after the proclamation of the kingdom of Italy, was made the occasion of universal rejoicing. The king de

sired new banners to be presented to the army, and General Fanti read in his name this address.

Officers, Sub-officers, and Soldiers !-Thirteen years have passed away since my august father, crossing the Ticino to carry on the war of national independence, consigned to you the tricolour banner with the cross of Savoy, with the words The destinies of Italy are maturing. Under that banner you won brilliant victories, arresting for a time our adverse fortune. But force of virtue and constancy of purpose made it wave freshly, gloriously, in distant regions by the side of the insignia of the most powerful armies in Europe.

Afterwards re-treading the fields of Lombardy, recalling the memory of Goito and Pastrengo, you gathered splendid laurels in company with the illustrious French eagle. A new and glorious light shone then on the entire peninsula. The people of Italy, uniting themselves round the flag of national independence, accomplished deeds that their remote descendants will remember with gratitude and love. To-day the destinies of Italy are mature.

Soldiers, to you I consign the new banners in the name of redeemed Italy. On their borders are emblazoned the names of the battles fought. To your courage I confide these emblems of loyalty and honour, on which the shield of my family, glorious for eight centuries of valour, is engrafted with the symbol of national redemption. VICTOR EMMANUEL.

Turin, June 2, 1861.

73

CHAPTER XXII.

DEATH OF CAMILLO BENSO CAVOUR. A.D. 1861.

COUNT CAVOUR laboured continually to convince the Catholic states that the temporal power of the papacy was incompatible with national unity and liberty, that it was an anachronism which must give way before modern progress, and that the Holy Father would enjoy a more exalted position, more real authority, if he were rid of the embarrassment of it. The Italian Government, he said, was slandered by those who represented that they wanted to overturn Catholicism; on the contrary, they wished to make it more respected, more respectable, than it had been for long ages. In taking possession of Rome they would contract a lasting peace between the Church and civilisation.

All history proved, he said in one of his speeches, that nothing but a miserable and corrupt despotism could result from the union of the spiritual and civil authority in the same hands. That the State and the Church should be separated was desirable as much in the interest of the one as the other. The authority of the Pope, the independence of the Church, would be much better assured by the free consent of twenty-six