But you are sorry that Cavour loves popularity in England.  I cried rather bitterly, ‘Better so!’ A complete injustice comes to nearly the same thing as a complete justice.  Have we not watched for a year while every saddle of iniquity has been tried on the Napoleonic back, and nothing fitted?  Wasn’t he to crush Piedmontese institutions like so many egg-shells?  Was he ever going away with his army, and hadn’t he occupied houses in Genoa with an intention of bombarding the city?  Didn’t he keep troops in the north after Villafranca on purpose to come down on us with a Grand Duke at best, or otherwise with a swamping Kingdom of Etruria and Plon-Plon to rule it? and wouldn’t he give back Bologna to the Pope bound by seven devils fiercer than the first, and prove Austria bettered by Solferino?  Also, were not Cipriani, Farini, and other patriots, his ‘mere creatures’ in treacherous correspondence with the Tuileries; ‘doing his dirty work,’ ‘keeping things in suspense’ till destruction should arrange itself on falsehood?  Have I not read and heard from the most intelligent English journals, and the best-informed English politicians (men with one foot and two ears in the Cabinet) these true things written and repeated, and watched while they died out into the Vast Inane and Immense Absurd from which they were born?

So I would rather have a rounded, complete injustice, as we can’t have the complete justice.  After all, the thing done is only a nation saved.  Hurry up the men who did it on the same cord!  Ought not Cavour to be there?

And if the Savoy cession is a crime, he is criminal, he, who undeniably from the beginning contemplated it, not as the price of the war, but as the condition of a newly constituted Italy.  And the condition implies more than is understood, more than the consenting parties dare to confess—­can at present afford to confess—­unless I am deceived by information, which has hitherto justified itself in the event.  Be patient with me one moment—­for if I differ from you, I seem to have access to another class of facts than you see.  If Italy, for instance, expands itself to a nation of twenty-six millions, would you blame the Emperor who ‘did it all’ (Cavour’s own phrase) for providing an answer to his own people in some small foresight about the frontier, when in the course of fifty or a hundred years they may reproach his memory with the existence of an oppressive rival or enemy next door?  Mr. Russell said to me last January ’Everything that comes out proves the Emperor to have acted towards Italy like an Italian rather than a Frenchman.’  At which we applaud; that is, you, and Mr. R., and I, and the Italians generally applaud.  But—­let us be just—­that would not be a satisfactory opinion in France of the Head of the State, would it, do you think?  It was obviously his duty not to be negligent of certain eventualities in the case of his own country, to be a ‘Frenchman’ there.