Well, leave the ’Times’—­though from the ‘Times’ and the like base human movements in England and Germany resulted, more or less directly, that peace of Villafranca which threw us all here into so deep an anguish, that I, for one, have scarcely recovered from it even to this day.

Let me tell you.  We were living in a glow of triumph and gratitude; and for me, it seemed to me as if I walked among the angels of a new-created world.  All faces at Florence shone with one thought and one love.  You can scarcely realise to yourself what it was at that time.  Friends were more than friends, and strangers were friends.  The rapture of the Italians—­their gratitude to the French, the simple joy with which the French troops understood (down to the privates) that they had come to deliver their brothers, and to go away with empty hands; all these things, which have been calumniated and denied, were wonderfully beautiful.  Scarcely ever in my life was I so happy.  I was happy, not only for Italy, but for the world—­because I thought that this great deed would beat under its feet all enmities, and lift up England itself (at last) above its selfish and base policy.  Then, on a sudden, came the peace.  It was as if a thunderbolt fell.  For one day, every picture and bust of the Emperor vanished, and the men who would have died for him, before that sun, half articulated a curse on his head.  But the next day we were no longer mad, and as the days past, we took up hope again, and the more thoughtful among our politicians began to understand the situation.  There was, however, a painful change.  Before, difference of opinion was unknown, and there was no sort of anxiety (a doubt of the result of the war never crossing anyone’s mind).  Napoleon in the thickest of the fire, with one epaulette shot off, was a symbol intelligible to the whole population.  But when he disappeared from the field and entered the region of spirits and diplomats—­when he walked under the earth instead of on the surface—­though he walked with equal loyalty and uprightness, then people were sanguine or fearful according to their temperament, and the English and Austrian newspapers, attributing the worst motives and designs, troubled the thoughts of many.  Still, both the masses (with their blind noble faith), and the leaders with their intelligence, held fast their hopes, and the consequence has been the magnificent spectacle which this nation now offers to Europe, and which for dignity, calm, and unanimous determination may seek in vain for its parallel in history.  Now we are very happy again, full of hope and faith....

We shall probably go to Rome again for the winter, as Florence is considered too cold.  There will be disturbances that way in all probability; but we are bold as to such things.  The Pope is hard to manage, even for the Emperor.  It is hard to cut up a feather bed into sandwiches with the finest Damascus blade, but the end will be attained somehow.  I wish I could see clearly about Venetia.  There are intelligent and thoughtful Italians who are hopeful even for Venetia, and certainly, the Emperor of Austria’s offer to Tuscany (not made to the Assembly, as the ‘Times’ said, but murmured about by certain agents) implies a consciousness on his part of holding Venetia, with a broken wrist at least.