myself, I believe they will attain it.  I see more reason for hope, as I know more of the people.  Their rash and baffled struggles have taught them prudence; they are wanted in the civilized world as a peculiar influence; their leaders are thinking men, their cause is righteous.  I believe that Italy will revive to new life, and probably a greater, one more truly rich and glorious, than at either epoch of her former greatness.

During the period of my absence, the Austrians had entered Ferrara.  It is well that they hazarded this step, for it showed them the difficulties in acting against a prince of the Church who is at the same time a friend to the people.  The position was new, and they were probably surprised at the result,—­surprised at the firmness of the Pope, surprised at the indignation, tempered by calm resolve, on the part of the Italians.  Louis Philippe’s mean apostasy has this time turned to the advantage of freedom.  He renounced the good understanding with England which it had been one of the leading features of his policy to maintain, in the hope of aggrandizing and enriching his family (not France, he did not care for France); he did not know that he was paving the way for Italian freedom.  England now is led to play a part a little nearer her pretensions as the guardian of progress than she often comes, and the ghost of La Fayette looks down, not unappeased, to see the “Constitutional King” decried by the subjects he has cheated and lulled so craftily.  The king of Sardinia is a worthless man, in whom nobody puts any trust so far as regards his heart or honor; but the stress of things seems likely to keep him on the right side.  The little sovereigns blustered at first, then ran away affrighted when they found there was really a spirit risen at last within the charmed circle,—­a spirit likely to defy, to transcend, the spells of haggard premiers and imbecile monarchs.

I arrived in Florence, unhappily, too late for the great fete of the 12th of September, in honor of the grant of a National Guard.  But I wept at the mere recital of the events of that day, which, if it should lead to no important results, must still be hallowed for ever in the memory of Italy, for the great and beautiful emotions that flooded the hearts of her children.  The National Guard is hailed with no undue joy by Italians, as the earnest of progress, the first step toward truly national institutions and a representation of the people.  Gratitude has done its natural work in their hearts; it has made them better.  Some days before the fete were passed in reconciling all strifes, composing all differences between cities, districts, and individuals.  They wished to drop all petty, all local differences, to wash away all stains, to bathe and prepare for a new great covenant of brotherly love, where each should act for the good of all.  On that day they all embraced in sign of this,—­strangers, foes, all exchanged the kiss of faith and love; they exchanged