M. de Rayneval and the Cardinals are willing to admit the courage of the Piedmontese, but then, they say, Piedmont is not in Italy; its inhabitants are half Swiss, half French.  Their language is not Italian, neither are their habits, the proof of which is found in the fact, that they have the true military and monarchical spirit, unknown to the rest of Italy.  According to this, it would be far easier to prove that the Alsacians and the Bretons are not French; the first, because they are the best soldiers in the empire, and because they say Meinherr when we should say Monsieur; the second, because they have the true monarchical spirit, and because they call butun what we call tabac.  But all the soldiers of Italy are not in Piedmont.  The King of Naples has a good army.  The Grand Duke of Tuscany has a sufficient one for his defence; the small Duchies of Modena and Parma have a smart regiment or two.  Lombardy, Venice, Modena, and one-half of the Papal States, have given heroes to France.  Napoleon remembered it at St. Helena; it has been so written.

As for the spirit of association, I know not where it is to be found, if not in Italy.  By what is the Catholic world governed?  By an Association.  What is it but an Association that wastes the revenue of the poor Romans?  Who monopolizes their corn, their hemp, their oil?  Who lays waste the forests of the State?  An Association.  Who take possession of the highways, stop diligences, and lay travellers under contribution?  Five or six Associations.  Who keeps up agitation at Genoa, at Leghorn, and, above all, at Home?  That secret Association known as the Mazzinists.

I grant that the Romans have but a moderate respect for the law.  But the truth is, there is no law in the country.  They have a respect for the Code Napoleon, since they urgently ask for it.  What they do not respect is, the official caprice of their masters.  I am certainly no advocate of disorder; but when I think that a mere fancy of Cardinal Antonelli, scribbled on a sheet of paper, has the force of law for the present and the future, I can understand an insolent contempt of the laws, to the extent of actual revolt.

As for social distinctions, it strikes me that the Italians respect them even too much.  When I have led you for half an hour through the streets of Rome, you will ask yourselves to what a Roman prince can possibly be superior.  Nevertheless the Romans exhibit a sincere respect for their princes:  habit is so strong!  If I were to conduct you to the source of some of the large fortunes among my acquaintances, you would rise with stones and sticks against the superiority of wealth.  And yet the Romans, dazzled by dollars, are full of respect for the rich.  If I were to—­But I think the Italian nation is sufficiently justified.  I will but add, that if it is easily led to evil, it is still more easily brought back to good; that it is passionate and violent, but not ill-disposed, and that a kind act suffices to make it forget the most justifiable enmities.