but at the root of the matter was the abominable misgovernment, which made it impossible to leave the Pope to his subjects without fear of revolution.  The papal administration was the opprobrium of Europe.  As to the king of Naples, if he did not soon mend his ways and listen to the advice of the Powers, it would become their duty to enforce it by arguments of a kind which he could not refuse to obey.  An extraordinary sensation was created by the speech of which this is a bald summary; it might have been spoken, Cavour said, “by an Italian radical,” and the vehemence with which it was delivered doubled its effect.  Lord Clarendon, who, at the beginning of the Congress, was nervous as to what Cavour might do, had been worked up to such a pitch of indignation by the private conversations of his outwardly discreet colleague that he himself threw diplomatic reserve to the winds.  Walewski, dreadfully uncomfortable about the Pope, tried to bring the discussion back within politer bounds; Buol was stiffly indignant; Orloff, indifferent about the Pope, was on tenter-hooks as to Russia’s friend, the king of Naples; the Prussian plenipotentiary said that he had no instructions; the Grand Vizier was the only person who remained quite calm.  Cavour’s concluding speech was dignified and prudent; his real comment on the proceedings was the remark which he made to every one after the sitting was over:  “You see there is only one solution—­the cannon!”

On April 11 he called on Lord Clarendon with the intention of driving home this inference.  Two things, he said, resulted from what had passed:  firstly, that Austria was resolved to make no concession; secondly, that Italy had nothing to expect from diplomacy.  This being so, the position of Sardinia became extremely difficult:  either she must make it up with the Pope and with Austria, or she must prepare, with prudence, for war with Austria.  In the first alternative he should retire, to make place for the retrogrades; in the second he wished to be sure that his views were not in opposition to those of “our best ally,” England.  Lord Clarendon “furiously caressed his chin,” but he seemed by no means surprised “You are perfectly right,” he said, “only it must not be talked about.”  Cavour then said that war did not alarm him, and, when once begun, they were determined that it should be to the knife (using the English phrase); he added that, however short a time it lasted, England would be obliged to help them.  Lord Clarendon, taking his hand from his chin, replied, “Certainly, with all our hearts.”

When, after Cavour’s death, the text of this conversation was printed, Lord Clarendon denied in the House of Lords having ever encouraged Piedmont to go to war with Austria.  Nevertheless, it is impossible that Cavour, who wrote his account of the interview directly after it occurred, could have been mistaken about the words which may well have escaped from the memory of the speaker in an interval of six