By the by, why does Azeglio write against Rome being the capital just now?  It seems to us all very ill-advised.  Italy may hereafter select the capital she pleases, but now her game ought to be to get Rome, as an indispensable part of the play, as soon as possible.  There are great difficulties in the way—­that’s very sure.  It’s quite time, indeed, that Mrs. Trollope’s heart should warm a little towards the Emperor, for no ruler has risked so much for a nation to which he did not belong (unless he wished to conquer it) as Napoleon has for this nation.  He has been tortuous in certain respects—­in the official presentation of the points he was resolute on carrying—­but from first to last there has been one steady intention—­the liberation of Italy without the confusion of a general war.  Moreover, his eyes are upon Venice, and have been since Villafranca.  What I see in the very suggestion to England about stopping Garibaldi from attacking the mainland was a preparation to the English mind towards receiving the consequence of unity, namely, the seizure of Venice.  ’You must be prepared for that.  You see where you are going?  You won’t cry out when France joins her ally again!’ Lord John didn’t see the necessity.  No, of course he didn’t.  He never does see except what he runs against.  He protested to the last (by the Blue Book) against G.’s attack; he was of opinion, to the last, that Italy would be better in two kingdoms.  But he wouldn’t intervene.  In which he was perfectly right, of course, only that people should see where their road goes even when they walk straight.  And mark, if France had herself prevented Garibaldi’s landing, Lord John would simply have ‘protested.’ He said so. France might have done it without the least inconvenience, therefore, and she did not.  She confined herself to observing that if V.E. might have Naples, he must have Venice, and that there could be no good in objecting to logical necessities of accepted situations.  In spite of which, every sort of weight was hung on the arms of France that no aid should be given for Venetia.  Certain things written to Austria, and uttered through Lord Cowley, I can’t forgive Lord John for; my heart does not warm, except with rage.  To think of writing only the other day to an Austrian Court:  ’All we can do for you is to use our strongest influence with France that she should not help Italy against you in Venetia.  And in our opinion you will always be strong enough to baffle Italy.  Italy can’t fight you alone.’  The words I am not sure of, but the idea is a transcript.  And the threats uttered through Lord Cowley were worse—­morally hideous, I think.