of parliamentary government.  Messina had fallen in September, though not till half the city was in flames, the barbarous cruelties practised on the inhabitants after the surrender exciting the indignation of the English and French admirals who witnessed the bombardment.  This was the first step to the subjection of Sicily, but not till after Syracuse and Catania fell did the King feel that there was no further cause for anxiety—­the taking of the capital becoming a mere question of time.  He was so much pleased at the fall of Catania that he had a mock representation of the siege performed at Gaeta in presence of the Pope and of half the sacred college.

On the 13th of March Prince Torelli handed the President of the Neapolitan Chamber of Deputies a sealed packet which contained a royal decree dissolving Parliament.  Naples was once more under an irresponsible despotism.  The lazzaroni of both the lower and higher classes, if by lazzaroni may be understood the born allies of ignorance, idleness and bigotry, rejoiced and were glad.  Nor were they few.  Unlike the Austrians in the north, Ferdinand had his party; the ‘fidelity of his subjects’ of which he boasted, was not purely mythical.  Whether, considering its basis, it was much to boast of, need not be discussed.

In March, the happy family at Gaeta was increased by a new arrival.  Had he been better advised, Leopold, Grand Duke of Tuscany, would have never gone to breathe that malarious atmosphere.  He had played no conjuror’s tricks with his promises to his people; Austrian though he was, he had really acted the part of an Italian prince, and there was nothing to show that he had not acted it sincerely.  But a persistent bad luck attended his efforts.  Though the ministers appointed by him included men as distinguished as the Marquis Gino Capponi, Baron Ricasoli and Prince Corsini, they failed in winning a strong popular support.  Leghorn, where the population, unlike that of the rest of Tuscany, is by nature turbulent, broke into open revolution.  In the last crisis, the Grand Duke entrusted the government to the extreme Liberals, Montanelli the professor, and Guerrazzi the novelist; both were honourable men, and Guerrazzi was thought by many to be a man of genius.  The vigorous rhetoric of his Assedio di Firenze had warmed the patriotism of many young hearts.  But, as statesmen, the only talent they showed was for upsetting any regime with which they were connected.

The Grand Duke was asked to convoke a Constituent Assembly, following the example of Rome.  If every part of Italy were to do the same, the constitution and form of government of the whole country could be settled by a convention of the various assemblies.  The idea was worthy of respect because it pointed to unity; but in view of the existing situation, Tuscany’s solitary adhesion would hardly have helped the nation, while it was accompanied by serious risks to the state.  The Grand Duke seemed about to yield to the proposal,