means likely to have suggested itself to him is the aggrandisement of his empire. France, he may think, would be the more likely tenaciously to adhere to and stubbornly to defend a dynasty whose fall might be the occasion of stripping her of its conquests. True, that Savoy and Nice are but a petty addition to the great French Empire, but who shall warrant that to such modest strips of territory are limited the ambitious projects of a Napoleon? His desire for military distinction, and confidence in his skill as a commander, are known beyond a doubt; he repines at the lot of a carpet-general, "who never set an army in the field" with any more formidable foe in front than the peaceable bushes of the valley of the Marne. There are other reasons, too, why the French Faust should have lent a willing ear to the temptations of the Piedmontese Mephistopheles. The origin and traditions of his family give him a natural strong interest in Italy, and he has various grounds for dislike and ill-will towards Austria. Personal motives also combined. He had been literally within a hair'sbreadth of falling a victim to an Italian assassin. No possible precaution, no serried guards or vigilant police, could insure him against the renewal of such attempts, made by desperate fanatics resolved beforehand to the sacrifice of their own lives. Within the last few months it was admitted, in a private conversation, by one of the most prominent supporters and advisers of the Emperor, that this personal danger was a strong incentive to him to strive for such changes as might satisfy the Italians, and disarm that class of them which ill-treatment and loss of hope convert into assassins. That this should be one of the Emperor's motives cannot be considered surprising, but it is rather a curious reflection that, should it lead him to war, the lives of tens of thousandsperhaps of hundreds of thousandsof human creatures will be sacrificed to give safety to the existence of one man. I say nothing of the vast designs of conquest that some have attributed to Napoleon, with no better grounds than their own imagination and a seeming probability; such,

for instance, as the carving out of a kingdom in Italy for Prince Napoleon Jerome, the establishment of a Murat at Naples, and even the reacquisition of the Rhine frontier. If he entertains any plans for acquiring Italian provinces, or for planting a relation in Italy, I believe that they are unknown to the Piedmontese Government, and would hardly be ever concurred in by it. There can be little doubt, on the other hand, that Savoy and Nice would be ceded to France. The story goes that in the first instance the King of Sardinia, whilst agreeing to cede Savoy, in return for the Italian provinces that were to be acquired for him, desired to retain Nice, but that peremptory insistance from Paris compelled him to give way. He then, it is said, would have stipulated for the command of the army. The brief and decided reply is asserted to have been, "Là où la France se bat, elle commande." This may be a mere tale, but scarcely any one attempts to deny the certainty, or, at the very least, the strong probability, of the cession of Nice and Savoy. "Depend upon it that not a foot of Italian ground will be given up," lately said a deputy, not a born Piedmontese, who is one of Cavour's intimates. The obvious inference is that there is an intention of abandoning ground that is not Italian.

It

Amongst the reasons that have induced the Emperor Napoleon to back the Italian policy of Piedmont, we must not forget the recent marriage. It is not to be said that the political alliance was a consequence of the marriage, but rather that the marriage was one of the conditions on which France engaged herself. was so understood here; indeed so obvious was it, that even those who would fain have given another colouring to the affair scarcely ventured the attempt. The war party, who desired and extolled the union as an important step in furtherance of their plans, looked half ashamed of it when it came to the point. It was such a manifest case of barter and sacrifice. It is well known that the hand of the child-princess had long been sought by the French Court-as long, I believe I may positively say, as two years ago. The youth of the lady

would have been an obstacle to the marriage taking place sooner than it did, but it is well understood that there were other obstacles to its taking place at all, and that small encouragement was given by the King of Sardinia to the first overtures. Without going into considerations out of the domain of the political writer, it is evident that the disparity of age and the character of the proposed bridegroom could not but cause reflection on the part of a father who had his daughter's happiness at heart. Neither was the proud and ancient house of Savoy likely to consider itself honoured by an alliance with the Buonaparte family. There were abundant reasons, in short, for the reluctance which Victor Emmanuel showed to give his consent. But reasons of state, and perhaps ambition, at last prevailed. There was something strange, to an observer on the spot, in various circumstances connected with the marriage. When it first was stated to be certain, or nearly so, about the middle of January last, it took the Piedmontese public by surprise, for previous rumours had been forgotten or unheeded. The impression made in Turin was most unfavourable, and people openly blamed the King for what they called sacrificing his daughter. The public looked upon the marriage as a settled thing, although it was not officially announced, and their manifest disapprobation seemed rather to dash the exultation of the party which built great hopes upon the alliance. Whether it was to give people time to get accustomed to the idea, and so to lessen the outcry against it, I cannot say, but to the last moment, up to a very few days before the wedding, the confidants and adherents of the government spoke of it as still uncertain. Perhaps it really was so. There has been much talk since of certain conventions, before whose conclusion the marriage could not take place or even be considered quite certain, and which were not concluded until the very eve of the ceremony. The formal demand of the hand of Princess Clotilda of Savoy was made on the 23d January, about ten days after the news of the coming event first transpired. On the 29th the contract

was signed, and then, but then only, did the partisans of war, who were also the sole supporters of the marriage, seem to breathe freely, as if they felt relief that all risk was at an end of a defeat of that move in their game. The whole course of the affair had the appearance as if some of the parties to it were ashamed of it, and eager to have it over, whilst others were in desperate fear of something intervening between cup and lip. There were, of course, whilst the thing was pending, many stories current of reluctance on the part of the Princess, of tears shed, of paternal persuasion, and even of paternal hesitation in presence of a daughter's grief, but no one can say what degree of truth there was in this gossip, and the probability is that there was no great difficulty in reconciling so young a girl to an exchange from the dull life and Court of Turin to the splendours of Paris, even though the husband with whom that exchange was saddled might not be exactly to her taste. The comments of the opposition, however, were bitter in the extreme, and, the marriage being taken in connection with the anticipated cession of Savoy as the price of hoped-for extension of dominion in Italy, the King was accused, by not a few persons, of having sacrificed his daughter, sold the birthplace of his forefathers, and of having, besides, made a bad bargain-since it was held to be doubtful whether he would ultimately secure and retain the promised advantages. This was harsh measure, for it has not yet been proved, however strongly suspected, that Victor Emmanuel has been actuated by ambitious motives. His admirers scout the idea. The sufferings of Italy, they maintain, alone have incited him to his present hazardous course. Relieve those, and he seeks no personal gains, no transmutation of the little Kingdom of Sardinia into a powerful North Italian State, comprising, as has been suggested, in addition to his present dominions, Lombardy and Venice, Parma, Modena, and the Legations. This may be so, but it is hard to believe. Men act most frequently from mixed motives. The King of Sardinia may feel sympathy and compassion for the oppressed States of

Italy, but probably even his most ardent friends and supporters do not in their hearts believe that he is not, in some measure, urged on by ambition. He has now, at any rate, advanced to a point whence it would be difficult to recede. He might, it is true, if he desired it, and if misgivings grew into alarm at the idea of his small State being crushed and obliterated in the course of the fright ful collision between two such powers as France and Austria-backed, as they would in all probability be, before the struggle had lasted long, by the other great governments of Europe he might, I fully believe, yet draw out of the perilous game, and calm, as far as his own dominions are concerned, the storm his policy has raised. This may appear incredible to persons abroad, who have accepted all the tales that have been promulgated concerning the immense excitement in Piedment, and the fanatic spirit here prevailing. But if there be a war party here, there is also a peace party, and, moreover, of those who cry out for war, and for Italian independence at any price, there are many who do so with little reflection or conviction of their own, but because they believe that their King wishes it. There is a strong habit of loyalty in this old monarchical country, and the King, although he has never taken much pains to court popularity, is beloved because he is King, and possesses immense influence over his subjects. Were it known that he had changed his views, my belief is, that the Piedmontese would quietly acquiesce; the 600,000 Savoyards would greatly rejoice; the province of Nice would certainly not be dissatisfied; and there would be no cause for apprehension of disturbances in the scantily-peopled island of Sardinia-the most backward and the least enlightened of all the Sardinian states. There would be other dangers, difficulties, and disagreeables; but they would proceed chiefly from without. The King's popularity in Lombardy, now to all appearance great, would be utterly lost as soon as the Lombards saw an indication of a disposition to settle the Italian question on terms that should not include their complete emancipation

from Austrian rule. Some embarrassment might ensue with respect to the numerous emigrants (now to be reckoned by thousands, and who soon, if the present state of affairs lasts any time longer, will be reckoned by tens of thousands), who flock hither from other Italian countries to take service under the Sardinian flag. But this is a detail, and need not be weighed upon. The finances, grievously burthened by the Cavour policy, would offer greater difficulties. Upon this branch of the subject, however, it is unnecessary to dwell at length. It is of more interest to consider what is likely to be done than what might be done. The truth is, that the country which has been represented as the most eager champion of Italian independence, even though that were to be obtained only by war, is in fact, as far as the majority of the nation is concerned, the one that would be the least willing to run the immense hazards implied in the course advocated by its King and his primeminister. The reason is evident : Piedmont prospers and progresses under her constitutional regime; she is attached to her liberties and her dynasty, and does not desire to risk either or both in a contest for Italian independence, a question, moreover, which the great majority of the people do not in reality at all understand, or greatly trouble their heads about. But they detest the Austrians, and owe them a grudge for their reverse at Novara. They are told that the King desires war; he himself, with rather unkingly indiscretion, has repeatedly and plainly intimated as much; and so their combined antipathy and loyalty make them throw up their hats and cry "Viva il Ré!" and "Death to the Austrians!"

With the leading incidents of the present year in Northern Italy you are well acquainted, and I may pass them over with a rapid pen. The augmentation of the Austrian army in Lombardy, and the near approach of a strong body of troops to the Piedmontese frontier, followed closely upon Louis Napoleon's ominous address to Baron Hübner on New Year's Day, and nearly coincided with the King of Sardinia's speech at the opening of

the Legislative Chambers, in which he declared his sensibility to the cry of suffering that reached him from various parts of Italy. This speech produced a great sensation, and exalted the hopes of the Italian national party to an extravagant pitch. The Piedmontese press-a considerable portion of which is in the hands of emigrants, and which is quite in its infancy, and distinguished by great intemperance of speech, ludicrous vanity, and very little abilityshrieked its warwhoops as violently as if it thought that its puny notes would pervade all Europe, and raise a crusade against Austria. The only effect they produced was further to embitter the Austrians and inflame the Italians. Count Cavour, all this time, was bent on war. In the month of January, the inquiry was addressed to him from an influential quarter, whether he should be disposed to agree to a congress, could it be brought about, as was not improbable, for the settlement of the Italian question. His reply was a decided negative. He would hear of nothing but war, and a clean sweep of every German from Italian soil. Since then he has seen fit to modify his tone, or, I should rather say, he has become less confident than he then was of foreign support; for Piedmont, its King, and its prime-minister, can only have importance so long as a great power like France was willing to back them with its armies. Prince Napoleon's arrival in Turin, and the quickly ensuing marriage, were a further source of rejoicing and security to the partisans of war. But as war is an expensive pastime, next came the demand for a loan, conceded by the Chamber after a stormy debate, during which the dislike of Savoy to the Cavour policy broke out by the organ of two of the deputies for that province. The conviction that a conflict was at hand became so strong and general throughout Italy that volunteers poured in, especially from Lombardy, eager to serve under the Sardinian flag. The flower of the young nobles of Milan presented themselves to serve as private dragoons. There can be no doubt of the strength of the feeling that impels to such a course. The Austrians

increased their military force and preparations in their Italian provinces; Piedmont had thousands of men working at the fortifications of Alessandria; and she called out her contingent, thereby raising her regular army to at least 80,000 men, independently of the volunteers who were being organised at various depots under the command of Garibaldi and other soldiers of fortune and partisan chiefs. From the opposite banks of the Ticino, Piedmont and Austria breathed defiance at each other, whilst France notoriously prepared to aid the weaker party. War appeared inevitable and close at hand; but Europe-two of whose greatest governments, and the whole of its people except the Italians, were earnest in desiring the maintenance of peace-had not yet said its last word. The voice of public opinion, which, in our century, and in highly civilised countries, the most rigid despotism is powerless wholly to silence, made itself heard-earnest and indignant in England, angry and stern in Germany, in France in small but unmistakable accents.

And how do we stand now, in the middle of the month of April? Certainly in great danger of war, but yet not without hopes of peace. It is impossible to deem one's-self safe from war, when two armies which, just ten years ago, were hacking at each other in the field, stand, armed to the teeth, with little to separate them save a shallow stream; when so many angry passions have been aroused, and so many interests embarked in the cause of strife. There is, then, great peril of a conflict which, if once commenced, would probably quickly grow into one of the most tremendous and sanguinary the world has witnessed. The experience of our own century, fertile though its earlier portion and some of its more recent years were in hardfoughten fields, enables us to form but an imperfect idea of what a general war in Europe would be at the present day, with the enormous armies now on foot, or that could be in a few weeks made efficient, and with the aid of the terrible inventions and appliances of science. Veterans now living - English, French,