Garibaldi himself would approve of the king’s dictatorship if it were accompanied by a thoroughly Italian policy.  This was perfectly true; as Cavour said, the conception was really the same as Garibaldi’s own:  a great revolutionary dictatorship to be exercised in the name of the king without the control of a free press, and with no individual or parliamentary guarantees.  But Cavour would have none of it.  What, he asked, would England say to a coup d’etat? His hope had always been that Italy might make herself a nation without passing through the hands of a Cromwell; that she might win independence without sacrificing liberty, and abolish monarchical absolutism without falling into revolutionary despotism.  From parliament alone could be drawn the moral force capable of subduing factions.

Not from his fellow-countrymen only, but from some who believed themselves to be Italy’s best friends abroad, came the prompting of the tempter:  more power!  Few ministers in a predicament of such vast difficulty would have resisted the evil fascination of those two words.  Cavour heard them unmoved.  He told his various counsellors that they counted too much on his influence, and were too distrustful of liberty.  He had no confidence in dictatorships, least of all in civil dictatorships; with a parliament many things could be done which would be impossible to absolute power.  The experience of thirteen years convinced him that an honest and energetic ministry, which had nothing to fear from the revelations of the tribune, and which was not of a humour to be intimidated by extreme parties, gained far more than it lost by parliamentary struggles.  He never felt so weak as when the Chambers were closed.  In a letter to Mme. de Circourt, he said that, if people succeeded in persuading the Italians that they needed a dictator, they would choose Garibaldi, not himself, and they would be right.  He summed up the matter thus:  “I cannot betray my origin, deny the principles of all my life.  I am the son of liberty, and to it I owe all that I am.  If a veil is to be placed on its statue, it is not for me to do it.”

Meanwhile the edge of the precipice was reached.  The king was marching on, and still the dictator held the post which he owed to his sword and the popular will.  He openly begged the king to dismiss his minister (in his idea kings could change their ministers as easily as dictators).  The public challenge could not be ignored.  There was no time to lose, and Cavour lost none; his answer was an appeal to parliament.  “A man,” he said, “whom the country holds justly dear has stated that he has no confidence in us.  It behoves parliament to declare whether we shall retire or continue our work.”  He invited the deputies to pass a Bill authorising the king’s Government to accept the immediate annexation of such provinces of Central and Southern Italy as manifested by universal suffrage their desire to become an integral part of the constitutional monarchy