The Life of Mazzini, by Bolton King, M.A.

That's French for "the ancient system," as in the ancient system of feudal privileges and the exercise of autocratic power over the peasants. The ancien regime never goes away, like vampires and dinosaur bones they are always hidden in the earth, exercising a mysterious influence. It is not paranoia to believe that the elites scheme against the common man. Inform yourself about their schemes here.

Re: The Life of Mazzini, by Bolton King, M.A.

Postby admin » Thu Jul 02, 2015 1:26 am

Chapter 19: The Man

Poetic temperament—Defects as a thinker—Greatness as a moral teacher—Strength and weakness as a politician—The man.

Carlyle said that Mazzini was "by nature a little lyrical poet." The implication was contemptuous, but it had a bottom of truth. Mazzini, indeed, save for his early aspirations to the drama, never dreamed of being a poet. His conception of the poet's function was so high, the qualities he demanded of him so exacting, that, if he ever felt the call, he put it away, no doubt, as something to which he could not reach. It is doubtful even whether he wrote more than one poem when a youth. He aspired only to be critic, to do something to prepare the way for the poet of the future. But he had qualities, that would have made of him a poet of no mean order. There are many passages in his writings, which show his deep communion with nature. When he writes of "the vast ocean, dashing, like a wave of eternal poetry, against the barren rocks of Brittany," or describes a sunrise from the Alps,—"the first ray of light trembling on the horizon, vague and pale, like a timid, uncertain hope; then the long line of fire cutting the blue heaven, firm and decided as a promise,"—truly the consecration and the poet's dream are his. His critical essays prove with what spiritual insight he would have touched the poetry of man and society. We have seen how marvellous for an outsider was his presentiment of the future of music. And his whole intellectual make, alike in strength and weakness, is that of the artist,—of the artist, that is, as he conceived him, God's messenger to the heart of man. He had little power of scientific thought, of accurate reasoning or careful arrangement and analysis of facts. It led to a curious misconception of scientific method. "Science," he says,—"the true, great, fruitful science,—is as much intuition as experiment." He generalises with a hazardous confidence. Sometimes he uses words, that are no more than words, to push difficulties into a corner and stand in front of them. In spite of his allegiance to "tradition," he generally prefers deductive to inductive reasoning. "Principles prevail over facts," as he says; but he often does not see, in spite of his own cautions, how, without a supreme respect for facts, a principle may hang not on the eternal truths, but on the fancy of a solitary brain. His own scientific studies were small; save for some acquaintance with astronomy and geography,—the former to feed his sense of the infinite, the latter for its relationship to nationality,—he seems to have given no attention to any branch of science. He accepted without question the Genesis story of the creation of man. At a time when Darwinism was bringing a sword into the intellectual world, he lived apparently uninterested and untouched by it.

The same defect of method appears in his other studies. Keen as was his interest in social questions, he evidently had no grasp of economic science; beyond Adam Smith, it is doubtful whether he read any of the great economists, and at a later date he entirely failed to understand the economic side of Karl Marx. His theories of history, again, so subordinate everything to his desire to make it didactic, that he regarded research and accuracy as comparatively unimportant. He thought,—rash man,—that facts had already been accumulated in sufficient abundance and certainty. Greatly indeed he conceived the historian's ultimate function—to discover the laws of human progress, and be "prophet of a higher social end"; but he slurred over the difficulty of reading facts aright, and was ever prone to let fancy take their place. He would have made the historian's method deductive to a dangerous degree, and had him fill the gaps of history from an abstract study of human nature; he apparently approved the Thucydidean method of invented speeches.

Here and everywhere he was apt to look down on erudition. He believed that Genius,—a kind of mystic, God-inspired faculty, that lived on intuition and not on painfully acquired knowledge,—discovers at a glance the secrets of nature and ethics and history. "Where we see only the confused light of the Milky Way, they see stars." Though he would have himself disclaimed the title to genius, he had a supreme confidence in his own thought. It was difficult for him to own an error, and hence he never learnt from his mistakes. It was true of him, as Renan said of Lamennais, that "when a man believes that he possesses all truth, he naturally disdains the painful, humble path of research, and regards the investigation of details as a pure dilettante fancy." This was no doubt the chief cause why his mind so soon stopped growing. We find in his early writings, when he was twenty-seven or twenty-eight, the germ, and generally the developed form of every doctrine that he preached. His character developed normally, but not his intellect. Religion, ethics, politics, social theories, literary canons,—all issued forth at once from his early-ripened brain, and fixed themselves once for all. He was always reluctant to enquire for or admit new knowledge. It is strange, lover of books though he was, how restricted sometimes was his range of reading. His poets were the poets of his youth and early manhood, and he read few that wrote after 1840. Closely as he studied the Gospels, he seems to have given little or no attention to exegesis. In spite of his keen interest in Utilitarianism, there is no trace that he read the later writers of the school. Though so long in intimate touch with English political thought, he does not seem to have known Burke or Ricardo or the Mills or Herbert Spencer.

As a thinker, therefore, his defects are great. His thought, indeed, always has its value, coming as it does from a man of very great intellectual power and large experience of life, one who fearlessly penetrated to the heart of things, and was therefore in the true sense original. Its range is wonderful for one who led so strenuous a life of action. Faulty as his argument often is, obvious as are the gaps, he wrote comparatively few pages, that are not stamped with great and stimulating thought. But his mind was too loosely organised, too often out of touch with contemporary knowledge. He has left an imposing and suggestive system, and yet perhaps it somehow fails to add greatly to the sum of human knowledge. But it is just the qualities, that depreciate him as a thinker, which make him great as a moral teacher. His want of logic, his loose use of words hurt not here. The involved and rushing language, like a tumbling mountain stream, becomes a strength. That very rigidity, that lifelong iteration of a few dominant ideas, carry force and conviction, that a more agile intellect were powerless to give. His warm and palpitating generalisations, for all the flaws in their reasoning, bear the irrefutable mark of moral reality. He had that union of real intellectual force and spiritual fervour, that gives the insight into moral truth, and learns the secrets of heaven and hell. He was able to be a great moralist, because in a rare degree he had himself the moral sense, because the passion for righteousness had so penetrated all his being, that he could speak and be understood on the deep things of God, had something in his own soul that found its way to other souls. And, above all, he spoke with authority. Absolute confidence in his own beliefs was joined to truest personal humility, and made the prophet. Humblest and least ambitious of men, he felt his call from God; and in God's name he was assertive, dogmatic, sometimes seemingly egotistic. If he spoke authoritatively and intolerantly, it was that a duty was laid upon him, and woe to him if he preached it not. His principles were living and victorious certainties to him. "If a principle is true," he said, "its applications are not only possible but inevitable." And this unquestioning conviction made him as fearless morally as he was intellectually,—fearless with the supreme bravery of one who never shrinks from duty,—fearless not only for himself but others, bridling all the impulsive tenderness within him, and requiring of his fellow-workers the same readiness for sacrifice, which he exacted of himself. And so his words, aflame from a pure and passionate heart, come with the intensity of prophetic power. Beyond the words of any other man of modern times, they bring counsel and comfort to those who have drunk of the misery and stir and hope of the age. They have the greater virtue, that impels their hearers to do likewise. Mazzini is one of the small band, who have the strength as well as the love of Christ, not only the unselfishness that draws, but the conviction and the power that command, who impose their own beliefs and make disciples.

Would he, had he had the opportunity, have done what he held higher than to teach through books, and been the missionary of a religion? Had Italy been freed in 1848, we may be sure he would have left his desk, forsaken politics, and gone about the land, preaching faith in God and Progress and Humanity. Probably no other man, since the Reformation, has had such apostolic power. Would his mission have found an answer or ended in pitiable collapse? He would probably have had no better fate than others, who have tried to found new churches. There may be room for new faiths, but there is little for new churches in the world to-day. But this does not necessarily mean failure. His church might have been empty, his state religion proved a soulless husk; but in the communion of scattered men and women, who are groping for the truth, he might have laid a cornerstone of that church, which is neither in this mountain nor yet at Jerusalem, which without forms or unity of doctrine, spreads the unity of spiritual truth. Something, even as it is, he has done for this. His creed may fail to content the knowledge of to-day, but he stands a convincing witness to the spiritual, to the eternal needs of the soul, to religion as the master fact of life, though creeds may fail and systems perish.

How does he rank as a politician? Our estimate must be a mixed one. As a political thinker he stands high. He has left a theory of the state, that is priceless because informed by a great moral ideal. And apart from this, it has its value from his wide and profound knowledge of modern politics and the practical sense that almost always keeps his idealism in touch with facts. His faith in democracy, the optimism which came of his trust in Providence, his cautious handling of economic tendencies saved him from the mistakes of Carlyle and Ruskin. His conviction that the common-sense of the people was feeling out its way independently of any theory or school, kept him from the short-lived formulas of the individualists. His deeper knowledge of men and deeper reading of history gave him a saner and completer view than that of the collectivists. None of them, not even Ruskin, can match the warmth and inspiration of a conception, that raises politics to be the instrument of the divine plan,—an instrument not only to destroy injustice and poverty, but to redeem the highest part of man and bring the rule of brotherhood and unity and social peace. In the detailed application of his political doctrines he often failed from that same inaccessibility to facts, which marred him otherwise. His republic missed the essential; his theories of democratic government are vague and hardly satisfy. But even here he is the prophet of one great enduring principle. Among the statesmen of the century, he is almost the only one, who understood what nationality meant, saw its essential relationship to democracy, and put it on an unassailable foundation. It was this that made him teacher of Italian Unity, and therefore maker of modern Italy. Whether without him Italy would be united to-day, we cannot tell; but at all events it was he who gave the impulse, his bold vision that saw that the hard consummation was attainable, and gave others too the faith to see it.

As a political thinker, then, he is great; as a practical political worker, he largely failed. True, he had many of a statesman's qualities. He often read character acutely, though his confidence in men sometimes deceived him, and again and again he was the victim of informers. He had rare industry and considerable organising power; though, owing to his solitary work, he had learned to bury himself too much in details,—in the mass of correspondence and the immense labour he put out to scrape together little funds,—and in them he sometimes neglected the survey of the whole. Above all, as he proved at Rome, he had the true statesman's gift of leadership and inspiration. But it is more than doubtful whether, even under happier circumstances, he would have been an effective politician. His knowledge of human nature was more subtle in the abstract than in the concrete; individuals were to him too much wholly good or wholly bad, and he did not recognise how complex are the motives that sway puzzled humanity. He could rarely take a sane, unprejudiced view of a situation. It amazes us that he expected Pio Nono to respond to his appeal in 1847, and thought that, if the republic came at Rome in 1870, it would found a state religion. His misconception of Piedmontese policy throughout the fifties is a yet stronger illustration of distorted vision. This was one of the reasons why he found it so difficult to compromise. He could not distinguish non-essentials from essentials, and it was nearly as hard for him to give way on the one as on the other. Compromise in small or great seemed cowardice, and there was no doubt a strain of egotism in his obstinacy. It humiliated him to surrender any detail of the theories, which he preached with such undiscriminating confidence.

But one would fain close not with the thinker or the moral teacher or the politician, but the man. Mazzini's personal life was one of a very rare purity and beauty, that stands out in his generation noblest and faithfullest and most inspired. Its only serious flaw lies in those few lapses from public candour, which have been noted in these pages. Sometimes he was bitter and intolerant, but the provocation was great. In earlier life he was often querulous and self-absorbed, but it may be counted to him, that, with his sensitive nature, he came through loneliness and poverty with his moral strength unbroken. Except for these, the critic's microscope can find no specks. Brave, earnest, true, without trace of affectation, he bore the stamp of whitest sincerity. Gentle, affectionate, pure as few are pure, he was friend and counsellor and inspirer to those who knew him, gripping and subduing them with that wondrous sympathy of his, that came of burning love of goodness and made the saving of a soul the highest thing in life. That generosity, which made him share purse and clothes with others perhaps less destitute than himself, and give half his scanty income to help a woman and children that he hardly knew, made him lavish out of his busy days time and thought to help struggling souls. Ever intense in his affections, grateful for any act of kindness, yearning for friendship with the yearning of the homeless man, he was one to draw others with bonds of love.

He had a large and loving view of life. Pettiness and malice and jealousy had very little place in it. Passionate though he was for morality, he was, outside his political work and controversies and an occasional touch of cynicism in his talk, a very tolerant man. No person has, he said, "a right to judge a special case without positive data on the nature of the fact." He was angry and impatient with the "cavilling spirit of mediocrity," that takes pleasure in the lapses of "the mighty-souled." Among his friends he never sermonised, and he had no desire to bend their private life to his own pattern. Ever more or less sad himself, he rejoiced in their happiness. "You are a happy mortal," he writes to one of them on his marriage. "I am, notwithstanding my dislike for happiness, truly glad that you are so." Never man had more joy in others' home felicity. It was only among his fellow-revolutionists, whom he thought of as partners in his own high call, that he was exacting and sometimes ungenerous, though he pleaded earnestly with them that public work should leave room for the inner life of love and friendship. In his political controversies, it must be confessed, his equanimity deserted him, and he is often intolerant and unfair. He was too ready to think that bad politics implied bad morals, and his hatred of Louis Napoleon and Cavour made him pen pages, that one would gladly not remember. But even in politics he could sometimes do justice to an opponent, who obviously acted from high convictions; and he was one of the few Italian nationalists, who could appreciate the motives of the Catholic Volunteers.

But his essential greatness lies on the active side. Above all else he shines out white in that consuming love of humanity, that accepted poverty and weariness and danger, that made him forego home and love, comfort and congenial work, and give himself to one long, self-forgetting service for the good of men. Duty was no abstract precept with him, but part of his very being. In adversity and trial he had schooled himself to follow her, till disobedience to her call became almost impossible, and he did not wait for her to speak but sought her out. It was nearly allied to his almost superstitious fear of personal happiness. Those miserable years in Switzerland and London wrought on him, till melancholy grew to a habit. He lost something of it afterwards in the society of his English friends, but it never left him; and it tinted all his life with the gentle sadness, which is near akin to spiritual yearnings and large-hearted love. Sunless and unwholesome as it seems at times, after all, as with the Man of sorrows, it purged him to the same forgetfulness of self. It was no enervating grief; "do not allow yourself to be weakened and self-absorbed by your trouble" was his perennial lesson to friends, who had lost dear ones. His was the "other part of grief, the noble part, which makes the soul great and lifts it up." "By dint of repeating to myself," he once wrote to Mrs Carlyle, "that there is no happiness under the moon, that life is a self-sacrifice meant for some higher and happier thing; that to have a few loving beings, or if none, to have a mother watching you from Italy or from Heaven (it is all the same) ought to be quite enough to preserve us from falling." He, to a degree that few have done, trod self victoriously under; habitually and systematically year by year, untempted by failure or success, by misery or comparative happiness, he denied himself even the little indulgences and relaxations and declensions from the strait hard path, by which most good men make their compromise with the world and flesh. So remorselessly was duty law to him, that sometimes work and sacrifice became ends in themselves; and he laboured painfully on in the path which he had chosen, when it would have served his cause better to have rested or turned to other activities. And the unbending labour had its fruit in that wonderful sum of his life's work, that, beyond all the exacting details of his political organisation, has left its stamp on modern Europe, has left so vast a body of thought in half the provinces of the human mind, has its yet richer legacy in the example of a life given perfectly and wholly to the cause of men.

He was not the mere conscientious worker only; he lived in the light of a spiritual vision, and that light radiated in almost every page he wrote, on every man and woman whom he touched. Besides the sense of duty he had faith. "He was," writes a living English statesman, "perhaps the most impressive person I have ever seen, with a fiery intensity of faith in his own principles and in their ultimate triumph, which made him seem inspired; a man to waken sleeping souls, and fill them with his own fervour." He loved to commune with those of his own spiritual kin,—Dante, Savonarola, Cromwell,—men who had the same undoubting faith in the righteousness of their cause and their fellow-work with God,—men, it may be, one-sided and intellectually incomplete, but gifted with the power to do great things and lift up life. And so great principles and nobleness of aim carried him through a series of practical mistakes, and left his life to be a permanent enriching of the race. What if he dreamed dreams, that for generations yet may be no more than dreams? What if his mental ken reached not to all the knowledge of the age? What if he marred his work by mistakes and miscalculations? His errors have passed; his intellectual limitations can be supplied. His was the rarer and the greater part, to lift men out of the low air of common life up to the heights, where thought is larger, and life runs richer, and the great verities are seen, undimmed by self and sophistry. The idealist is still mankind's best friend; and he does most for the race, who purges its spiritual vision, and breathes into cold duty, till it becomes a thing of life and passion and power. Greater still is he, who is not idealist only, but saint and hero, and in his life bears witness to the truth he teaches. Such saint and hero and idealist Mazzini was; and while men and women live, who would be true to themselves and to their call, who value sacrifice and duty above power and success, so long will there be those, who will love him and be taught by him.
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Re: The Life of Mazzini, by Bolton King, M.A.

Postby admin » Thu Jul 02, 2015 1:29 am


Appendix A

Some unpublished (in one case privately published) Letters and Papers, written by Mazzini.

1. Letter to Mr W. E. Hickson, about 1844.
2. A Prayer for the Planters, 1846.
3. Letter to Mrs Peter Taylor, 1847.
4. Letter to Mr Peter Taylor, February 1854.
5. Letter to Mr Peter Taylor, October 1854.
6. Letter to Mrs Peter Taylor, 1857.
7. Two Letters to Mrs Milner-Gibson, 1859.
8. Letter to Mr Peter Taylor, 1860.
9. Letter to Mrs Peter Taylor, 1865.
10. Letter to Mr W. Malleson, 1865.
11. Rest. A Paper written for the Pen and Pencil Club, 1867.
12. Letter to Mrs Peter Taylor, 1868.
13. Letter to Mr William Shaen, 1870.


[This letter gives some details concerning his early life, which are not mentioned in his works or in any of the biographies.]

Dear Sir,—I began to attract the attention of the Government in Italy by my literary writings. I had been pleading warmly the cause of what was then called Romanticism, and was the right of progressive life in Literature. Then, as now, all pleading for literary liberty, independence, progression, were suspected in Italy as educating the mind to forbidden tendencies. I published in 1828 a weekly literary paper the "Indicatore Genovese": it was, at the end of the year, and though published under the double ecclesiastical and temporal censorship, suppressed. I caused the paper to be continued at Leghorn under the title of "Indicatore Livornese"; [47] it was, at the end of the year, suppressed again. I wrote one long article on "a European Literature" in the best of our reviews, the "Antologia" of Florence. The review was persecuted and after some time suppressed. In 1830, after the Revolution of July I was arrested. The accusation was the spreading of a secret association tending to the overthrow of the Italian Government. I recollect a fact, well apt to give a summary of our condition in Italy. My father, Professor of Anatomy in the Genoese University, went to the Governor of the town, Venanson, enquiring at the cause of my imprisonment. "Your son," he was told amongst other things, "is fond of walking every night, alone, sadly pensive, on the outskirts of the town. What on earth has he at his age to think about? We don't like young people thinking, without our knowing the subject of their thoughts." A committee of Senators was appointed, in Turin, to try me. They found no proofs, and acquitted both me and some friends who had been arrested with me. Nevertheless I was sent, in solitary confinement, at Savona, in the fortress for five months: and afterwards, sent in exile, without leave of seeing anybody, except my parents. There was no duration determined; but I was told that my subsequent conduct would shorten or prolong the time of my being an exile. I came through Savoy and Switzerland to France, at a time in which the Government of Louis Philippe, not yet acknowledged by the absolutist Governments, was active in exciting all insurrectional schemes, both in Spain and Italy. I merged, of course into them.

When the insurrection of 1831 was quenched in the Estates of the Pope, I established myself at Marseilles, and founded from there the new association "la giovine Italia." Of the distinctions to be made between this and the old Carbonari associations, I have spoken in four letters that have been printed in the "Monthly Chronicle." They—the fourth especially—I would advise you to peruse: I have not a single copy in my possession and cannot even remember the number; but they must have appeared between 1838 and 1839. The rapidity with which the Association spread evinced the justice of the fundamental views. At the beginning of 1832, the organisation was powerful throughout all Italy. As one of the main features of La Giovine Italia was to not content itself as Carbonarism did, with a secret war, but to reach insurrection through the open preaching of its belief, an organ was established at Marseilles expounding all the principles of the Association. La Giovine Italia, a review, or rather a collection of political pamphlets springing from the Association, was under my direction; and, in fact, the two-thirds of each volume were my own. The effect was really electric among our youth. From Marseilles, through the merchant-ships of our country, the captains of which were almost generally volunteering their efforts, the volumes were smuggled into Italy, where they raised the enthusiasm of the patriots to such a pitch that it was evident a general outbreak would ensue. Then, the persecutions began. Applications were made by all the Italian Governments to the French: the policy of Louis Philippe had already changed, and the most active co-operation against the Association and me was promised. Measures were taken at Marseilles against such of our exiles as were living upon the subsidies. They were sent away to the interior. But few as we were, we could, by multiplying our activity, front the task. At last, under the pretence of my being likely to be connected with the republican agitation in France, I was ordered to leave France. I protested, and claimed the common justice of a trial; but unsuccessfully. My presence at Marseilles was imperiously required by the interests of the Association; the writing, publishing, and sending to Italy the correspondencies with the country, for which Marseilles was offering every facility, the interviews with Italian patriots who flocked to Marseilles for instructions and communications, were all resting on me. I decided to stop; and concealed myself. During one year I succeeded in baffling all the activity of the French police, and of our own spies. But it was through the most rigorous seclusion you can imagine. During one year, I remember having had only twice, a breath of fresh air in the night, once dressed in woman's garb, the other as a Garde-National. At last things had reached such a point that a general rising was thought of. I left France and went to Geneva: there to await for the event, and prepare an expedition into Savoy, so as to divide the forces of the enemy and establish co-operation between the patriots in Italy and their exiles. How the hopes of an insurrection failed in Italy, the fourth of my letters in the "Monthly Chronicle" will tell you. How we too failed, through our military leader, General Ramorino, in the attempt on Savoy—an attempt I thought it our duty to realise, as a practical teaching to our countrymen, that promises, once given, are to be kept,—would now be too long to say. But a tolerably true account of the enterprise is to be found in one of the volumes of "Histoire de Dix Ans" par Louis Blanc. Meanwhile the attempt, once unsuccessful, drew upon Switzerland and à fortiori upon me, the anger of all Governments. Notes were literally showering upon the poor Swiss Cantons, where we sojourned. The most of us left Switzerland for France or England. I with few others remained. Driven away from Geneva, I went to the Canton de Vaud: driven away from there, to Berne. There, owing to the friendship of some of the members of the Government, I stopped for some time, keeping a very secluded life. At last the insistence of the foreign Embassies prevailed upon the weakness of the Bernese Government, and I was obliged to go to Solothurn. Meanwhile the principles, embodied in our writings and in our associations had awakened the sympathies of the Swiss patriots. A National Association was founded on a ground of brotherhood with our own. The persecutions with which the unwilling but weak Swiss Governments were hunting me, excited almost as much indignation as the opening of the letters here. The weakness of the Cantons had its source in the deficiency of national unity, in the detestable organisation of the Central Power, on the old Pacte Federal, forced by the Allies on Switzerland at the overthrow of Napoleon. I was requested to write a periodical advocating and unifying under our political belief, the national feelings. Funds were given. The "Jeune Suisse" was established. It appeared twice a week in French and in German, for the course of one year. Through the German exiles, and working-men, through the Tyrolese working-men, rather numerous in the Canton of Zürich, through the Italian Tessin, and the frequent contact with Italian people travelling to the frontier, the spirit of liberty began to spread again in the countries approaching Switzerland. The terrors of the Governments re-excited the persecution. They threatened Switzerland with war. German troops came to the frontier, M. Thiers was menacing to ruin Swiss commercial resources with a "blocus hermetique." We were sent away. The paper suppressed; the most horrible calumnies spread against us: all exiles left with or without compulsion. I decided to remain as long as necessary to prove to the Swiss people, that they were the slaves of the Foreign Powers, and devoid of all real liberty, of all independence. During seven months, I went from place to place, from house to house, living in places apparently empty, with mats at the windows, without even going beyond the room, except when receiving advices of the house being suspected: then with a guide, I was crossing the mountains in the night, and going to another shelter. While the Governments were raging, I received from all classes of population marks of sympathy that made and still make me consider Switzerland as a second Fatherland. Ministers [of religion] were inviting me to their houses as one of their family. [At] Grenchen, a village of a thousand inhabitants, near Solothurn, when I had spent one year, in an establishment of baths, I was, during the storm, made citizen spontaneously and without expense. The poor people, good souls of the village, believed that as a Swiss citizen, I would be respected; the grant of course, was not admitted. Still had I been alone, I would have, hardened as I was to all privations, kept on resisting; [but I was not alone] so I decided to leave and come to England. It was then that I had a correspondence with the Duke of Montebello, which ended in his sending three passports for us to a place I named; and in January or February 1837 I landed in England.

The "Giovine Italia" had six volumes published at different times. All that I have ever written concerning politics bears my name. Before I established the Association I wrote a long letter to Charles Albert, who had just then come to reign over Piedmont, remembering him of what he had promised and done, when not a king, pointing to him all the dangers of his position, the impossibility of keeping down long the spirit of the nation, the system of blood-shedding reaction to which he would soon be bound, and on the other side, the Possible, the Beautiful, the Grand, the Godlike that there would be in his putting himself at the head of the National party; the letter was printed, and signed only "An Italian." My name was then quite unknown, and would not have added the least weight to the considerations; besides, I did not believe that the "Italian People" would ever spring from under a royal cloak; and I was writing, not my own opinion, but that of many of my countrymen still fond of such a hope. I wanted to have the true intentions of the man on whom they relied, as much as possible unveiled. As soon as the letter reached him, my "signalement" was given to all the authorities of the coast, so as to have me arrested if ever I attempted to cross the frontier again.... I have been in 1833 condemned to be shot in the back by a military commission sitting in Alessandria, as having led from without the agitation. Here in London I have exerted, as I will exert, what influence I possess with my countrymen to endeavour to raise them from the nothingness and worse than nothingness in which now they are; from English affairs I have kept myself entirely separated; nor sought the help of English people even for our Italian affairs. As to all the present agitation, I had nothing to do with it, on the beginning. I did not think that the time was properly chosen. But, when the patriots of the interior decided that they would attempt, nothing of course, was left to me than helping them; and so I did, or rather prepared me to do so, should a rising take place.

It seems to me that the right of an Italian to work out from whatever place he finds himself in, the welfare of his country, ought to be clearly and boldly asserted by an English writer.

Of the hopes I have of the Italian patriots succeeding at a not very remote period, in what they are now struggling for, I cannot now speak here. It would prove too long a subject for a letter; but I am in intention, if I find time for it, of publishing very soon, a Pamphlet on the question, showing how, all weary of slow, legal, national progress being interdicted to us, our only hope must lie in insurrection as the starting-point for a national education. If there are points upon which you want more notions, be so kind as to write, and meanwhile, with sincere thanks for the interest you take in my case, believe me now dear Sir,—

Truly yours,
47 Devonshire Street,
Queen Square.


[The original is in French. It has probably not been published before. It was sent in 1846 to Mr William Shaen in response to a request for a paper on the abolition of slavery. It was to have appeared in Lady Blessington's Keepsake, presumably in a translation, but was not published in it. In sending it Mazzini writes: "To write one or two pages on abolitionism is just the same to me as to prove that the sun gives light and warmth; or to prove an axiom. So that I was during one full hour at a loss what to write, till my soul melted away in prayer."]

God of pity, God of peace and love, forgive, oh forgive the planters. Their sin is great; but thy mercy is infinite. As of old thou didst make refreshing waters gush from the desert rock for the multitude of thy servants, so now make the living spring of charity gush out in the desert of their souls. Let the angel of repentance descend and settle on their dying pillow. And between them and thy justice, at their last hour,—for them and for their country, which they dishonour,—may the prayer rise up of all who suffer for thy holy cause, for thy holy truth, for the freedom of the peoples and of the Soul of man.

Their sin is great. They have sinned, they are sinning still against thee and against Humanity, which is the interpreter of thy law on earth. The Spirit of Evil, which tempted Jesus, thy son so dear to Genius and to Love, by offering him, when he began his divine career, the riches and the thrones of earth, has also tempted them, men bereft of Genius and of Love, by taking the semblance of the idol, which is self-interest. They have yielded. They are the bondsmen of the senses, and have forsworn knowledge and feeling. They have set the slave in the place of man, the fetish of the sugar-cane in the place of thy holy image. But thou, didst thou not hear thy son, so dear to Genius and to Love, when he prayed for those who slew him? Forgive them, Father, forgive the planters too.

Thou hast placed, as symbol of the eye of thy Providence, one sun in heaven for the earth. Thou hast interwoven in one mighty harmony, of which human Music, Religion's eldest child, is but a faint and stammering echo, the worlds, those finite rays of thy infinite Thought, that move around us, like the scattered letters of a heavenly alphabet, which we shall know one day. In this fair physical Universe, which is the garment of the Idea, thou hast everywhere taught Unity, and the bright light of thy teaching shines upon their souls; but they have veiled the eyes of their souls, they have broken in pieces that which is so fair, and on the wreck of thy Unity they have built a warring Dualism: two natures, two laws, two ways of life. Have pity, Lord, forgive, oh forgive the planters.

In History, which is thy life, manifesting itself progressively in time and space, thou hast set in their sight another fount of truth, whence in great waves flows the great thought of Unity, which is thy whole Law. Thou madest all mankind spring from one Adam; at the teaching of thy providence, more clearly seen from day to day, thou hast led man, collective, social man, from slavery to serfdom, from serfdom to wage-earning; and that nought may be wanting to make the progression clear, thou makest now the nations to desire impatiently that to wage-earning association may succeed. And over these three stages, which are the image of thy triune working, hovers the holy voice of Golgotha, All ye are brothers, for ye are all one in God. And they have stopped their ears to the holy voice of Golgotha, they have shut their eyes to the evolution of Thought in History: they have said: we are not brothers, we are masters and slaves. They have kept one page alone of the Great Book, the page that tells of Cain and Abel, of Violence and Right; and they have said to themselves: there are then two races of men, the race that is accursed, and the race that is privileged, and of this last race are we; they know not that the sign of thy curse is on their own forehead, since it is by Violence alone that they make slaves of men. Have pity, Lord, forgive, oh forgive the planters.

And for the third witness of thy Truth, thou hast put a voice in each man's heart, an impulse in each man's conscience, which says: I am free; free because I am responsible, free because I am a man, made in God's image, inherently possessing in myself the powers and aspirations and destinies of all Humanity. And they have denied that this is the voice of all men. They have shut themselves up in their selfish Ego, and have said: this voice is ours alone, and they see not, wretched men that they are, that if they put a bound to it, they blot it out from all creation, since God did not create the planter but the man. They have sown hate, and they will reap revolt: they have denied the God of love, and they have provoked the God of vengeance. Listen not to their blasphemy, O Lord. Forgive, oh forgive the planters.

O Lord, open their understandings and soften their hearts. Let the angel, that inspires good thoughts, descend upon them in their dreams by night. Let them hear through him the cry of horror that ascends from all Humanity that believes and loves;—the sorrowing cry of all who endure and fight for the Good in Europe, and whose confidence and faith is shaken by their stubborn crime;—the mocking cry of the princes and kings of the earth, who, when their subjects are full of turmoil, point to the proud republicans of America, who alone of men maintain the helotism of pagan ages;—the long anguish of Jesus, who, because of them, still suffers on his cross to-day! And when in the morning they awake, let their children lay their innocent curly heads beside their lips, and whisper, inspired by thee: "Father, father, free our brother, the black man; buy and sell no more the son of man for thirty pennies; see, this black man too has a mother and little children like us; Oh that his old mother could rejoice to see him proud and free! that his children could smile on him, fresh and happy, in the morning, as we smile now on you, father."

God of pity, God of peace and love, forgive, oh forgive the planters. Their sin is great, but thy mercy is infinite. Open in the desert of their souls the living spring of charity. Let the angel of repentance descend and settle on their dying pillow. And between them and thy justice, at their last hour,—for them and for their country, which they dishonour,—may the prayer rise up of all, who, like myself, suffer for thy holy cause, for thy holy truth, for the freedom of the peoples and of the Soul of man.



Dear Mrs Taylor,—First of all let me tell you that my silence before your note has been owing to my having been most unpoetically ill, with head-ache, sore throat, prostration of forces, fever and other things, till I was thinking that Mr Taylor would perhaps get rid all at once of me and of the League: however Homœopathy—that is taking nothing—has cured me: then that my silence after the note has been owing to a hope in which I have been indulging both on Friday evening, and on Saturday, to call on you unexpectedly and talk instead of writing. However that hope too—the other is Mr. Taylor's hope—has vanished: and I find myself having so much to do that I doubt whether I will find a moment of freedom this week. So, I write, and hope to be forgiven for the past.

And now to Poetry. Alas! After mature consideration, I find no definition at all; by you it is not needed; I am sure you have the thing in your own Soul, and that is better than all definitions one could supply; for Mr Taylor I fear no definition of mine would do. Suppose I gave a definition that seems to me very true, but that I ought to explain in ten pages at least. "Poetry is the feeling of a former and of a future world: [48]: he would find out that it belongs to Byron, and would find himself pledged to refuse it. Suppose that I gave one of mine:

the Religion of the individual Soul."
"Religion is the Poetry of the collective Soul."

I fear that not only he, but perhaps you too, would ask for explanations which would fill up a lecture, not a note. Suppose that I quoted lines like these:

"A Poet's art
Lies in tolerating wholly, and accounting for in part
By his own heart's subtle working, those of every other heart"

he would say that that is charity, and nothing else; we would say that it is incomplete. Suppose that I adopted yours—which, with due comments and interpretations, I am not far from—that "Poetry is the soul of the Universe," it would not avail. You gave it already, I am sure, and it was declared unsatisfactory.

We must one day or other talk about this. I fear vaguely that even we do differ in some way respecting the essence of Poetry. I suspect that you leave out in your own definition the element of Action, which seems to me inseparable from it. Poetry is for me something like the third person of Trinity, the Holy Spirit, which is Action. But this amounts to declare incomplete, the poetry, for instance, of Wordsworth, Coleridge, etc. Is that a heresy for you? If so, our definitions will not agree.—ever faithfully yours,


IV. LETTER TO MR. PETER TAYLOR [February 16, 1854].

[This letter is inserted, because of its historical importance. It is, I believe, the earliest existing mention of any scheme for a French protectorate in Tuscany. It also antedates by a few weeks the earliest known mention of Garibaldi's scheme for an expedition to Sicily. Mazzini's information respecting Louis Napoleon's plans was probably derived from Dr Conneau, but it was generally inaccurate.]

My Dear Friend,—I write because I have no time for coming, and I write, I must avow, to silence conscience, with very little hope.

Do not smile, and say "the man is mad"; but put your head in your two hands and try to solve this question: "is there any earthly way of getting one thousand pounds in a very short time, ten days, a fortnight at the most?"

With you I have no secrets, and I shall state to you summarily the why.

We must act: as early as possible in March: in fact as soon as the declaration of war or an action amounting to the same takes place, we must act, because the initiative is everything for us.

The actual schemes of the French Emperor, assented to by your cabinet, are these:

A Muratist movement in Naples: reinforcements in Rome ready to help, as Piedmont would object to the establishment of a French dynasty in the South. France offers to patronise the King of Piedmont to the North of Italy. Lombardy will be Piedmontese. But Lombardy and the Venetian territory would together with Piedmont form too large, too threatening a state. Lombardy and Venice shall therefore be divided. Venice like Greece will be given up to some foreign prince, or to Austria again if Austria yields and submits in other respects. Rome will remain to the Pope. Only as there are provinces so disaffected that the case is hopeless, from them and Tuscany a central Dukedom or Princedom will be formed under French patronage. Sicily will be given—the old scheme of 1848—to the Duke of Genoa, son of the Piedmontese king.

Thus Italy will have two more divisions, Sicily and Venice; new foreign dynasties would be settled there, new interests would group themselves around them: a new partition would begin, with high sanction, a new phasis, and we should have to begin anew our secret work, our clandestine printing, our series of martyrdoms, as if nothing had been done.

To all this I know only of a [one] remedy: to initiate: to give the leadership to the national party. The multitude will follow the first who acts; the very elements prepared by all these intrigues will accrue to us if we move first.

And beyond all, to move in the South. We would thus check the French scheme before its realisation. As we would, for the present, leave Rome aside and untouched, we do not damage in the least the actual position of England with France.

Garibaldi is here: ready to act. Garibaldi's name is all powerful among the Neapolitans, since the Roman affair of Velletri. I want to send him to Sicily, where they are ripe for insurrection and wishing for him as a leader.

Of course another action would simultaneously take place in a point of the centre, and I would lead a third operation in the North.

For these two, I have, though very little, still enough of money. For the first, that is for Garibaldi, I have none, and claiming it from Italy would imply expenses for travellers, risks, the unveiling of the secret, and uncertain indefinite time.

Are there not to be found in England ten persons willing for the sake of Italy and for the sake of baffling schemes of French domination absolutely antagonistic to English interests, to take each £100 of our National Loan notes? [49] -- or twenty ready to take £50 each?

This is the problem.

I know nobody almost. It must be the work of some Englishman. If any plan could be devised of certain fulfilment, but requiring longer time, the sum could be perhaps advanced by some person who would keep all that would come in by degrees.

—ever yours affectionately,


To friends whom you can trust, you may, under pledge of honour, communicate what you think proper.

Feb. 16. 15 Radnor St.
King's Road, Chelsea.

V. LETTER TO MR. PETER TAYLOR [October 26, 1854].

My Dear Friend,—Are you astonished at our inertness? at our talking so much and doing so little? I often think that you feel so. I could explain everything in two hours of conversation; but take my word in spite of all, we are ripe for the aim, and that ere long we shall reach it. In fact, had I not been exceptionally prudent and calm, action would have been already initiated. It would be any day, were it not for Piedmont and the "Western Powers." Piedmont is our curse.

First, on account of its enjoying liberty, it is so much withdrawn from the field of action; then we have, just as in 1848, a whole world of courtiers, of ministerial agents, of journalists, and even of clandestine-press-writers, spreading everywhere that the King will draw the sword one of these days, that France and England will cause the revolution to spring up in Naples, that you will quarrel with Austria about the Principalities, that a better opportunity will come, must come, if only we have patience for one month, for two months, for two weeks. There was a whole dream-dispelling work to be done before thinking of immediate action. This work is, for the two-thirds, done, the other third will take, perhaps some two months. The field will be mine then. The people, the working-classes, are admirable: they are mine, mine devotedly to blindness.

One thing is out of doubt: any initiative will be an Italian one: one spark will settle the whole on fire, only, the initiative MUSTbe a successful one. This is the source of all my delays. I feel too certain of success after the first blow being struck for my risking uncautiously the first blow.

The English agitation I am trying to spread would be of real importance to me, if taking a certain degree of consistence, both from the financial point of view and from the moral one. You have not an idea of how proud and stronger my working men do feel here, when they find themselves noticed, encouraged and helped in England. I trust you will do what is in your power to promote and help.

How are you? How is your wife? Are you ever talking about me? against me? I am well in health, spite of the forcedly sedentary life I lead. I think very often, under these radiant skies, of the London fogs, and always regretfully. Individually speaking, I was evidently intended for an Englishman.

What are you doing at Pinner? What little dogs have you caused to disappear? How many poor hens kept in a state of bondage, and tied by the leg somewhere, are awaiting for a revolutionist to untie them?... What do you read? What do you anticipate for England's politics? Do you smoke much?... I wish we could have a talk of one hour all together, with cigars and sherry, and then be back where I am wanted.... Ever your friend,



Thanks, my dear Friend, for your having remembered my name's day [St Joseph's Day]. I don't know why, but every anniversary concerning myself finds me very sad: those friendly whisperings are checking the tendency.

The box has arrived. You have made out the only point of contact between Shakespeare and myself, on all the rest we deeply differ. He was an extraordinary poet: I am not. He was—spite of your interpretations—calm: [50] I am not. He looked on the world from above: I look at it from within and want to make a revolution. He was—if reports are correct—merrily poaching: I have always before my eyes, like a remorse, the large convulsion with which a poor thrush, shot by me at the age of sixteen, was twisting with her beak a bit of grass. He was the Lord of Individuality: all my tendency, if developed, would have been a generalising one. He was powerful: I am powerless—and so on, to the end of the chapter.—your friend,


VII. TWO LETTERS TO MRS. MILNER-GIBSON (Translated from the French)

[Mrs. Milner-Gibson had just lost a little boy. Mazzini was godfather to a younger brother.]

[April 15, 1859.]

Dear Friend,—What can I say? You believe, as I do, in God and immortality. It is there that you must find your comfort and strength. Love your boy as if he were alive, for in that you will have what will restore him to you in the series of existences, which follows this one. Become even better than you are by thinking of him, for this will make a bond of love and mutual influence between you and him. Think of him when you are doing good. Think of him, when impulses of selfishness or human frailty assail you. Be good and strong. Give your other children the love he gave them himself. And count on God. There is immortality to link the mother and the child, and only forgetfulness can break it. I have heard of his last words and kisses: he loved you to his last moment, love him to yours, and believe it, this will have been but the parting for a journey.

This is all I can say. From me to you such commonplace words of comfort as the world generally gives would be a kind of sin. I suffer with your grief. I, who have no home now, know what the sorrows of home are,—they leave a scar in the heart, which never goes, and that is sad, but it is well. Cherish this scar, it is a pledge of the future. Do not give yourself up to the barren, cowardly sorrow, called despair. There is no death in the world except forgetfulness. Everything that loves and has loved to death meets again. Good-bye, my friend. Think of your health for the sake of your other children. God bless you in them,—your friend,


[This letter was succeeded by the following.]

Dear Friend,—I have received your letters, they are more and more sad. You have been ill and you are unhappy. Your visit to the Continent will do you good physically, I hope, but as to your moral health, you must cure that yourself. Rouse your soul, which is in danger of being benumbed by sorrow; you will find at the bottom of it, I don't say happiness, I don't say even hope, but duty and faith in some affections which do count. For God's sake, do not despair: you have dear children to bring up; you can still do good, and you have friends who esteem and love you and suffer with your sufferings and find strength in your own. Ah me, what the devil should I do myself, if I allowed the little strength, which God has left me, to desert me, as it often threatens to do.... Good-bye. Yours with all my heart,


VIII. LETTER TO MR. PETER TAYLOR [September 11, 1860].

Dear Peter,—

I have yours of the 29th of Aug. written with an improved handwriting, and the article on Lady Byron. It is according to me, unwise and unjust: unwise, because to praise Lady Byron for her life's silence and to abuse the very man about whom she has chosen to be silent, is inconsistent: unjust, because it grounds a verdict on the wrongs of one party, without taking into account those of the other. Everybody seems to forget that Lady Byron did not only leave her husband for ever, going "à la promenade," but that she did set at him before, lawyers and doctors to try if she could make him be proved mad! I wish—no, I don't—that your wife should set at you Dr. E— and Mr. S— for such a purpose, only to see what you would do when discovering it, and I wish I had time to write, before dying, a book on Byron and abuse all England, a few women excepted, for the way she treats one of her greatest souls and minds: I shall never write the book nor—it begins to be clear—any other.

Well, I do not go into particulars about our condition here [at Naples]. As a party we are going through that sort of method which you called one day a suicide, preparing and attempting things which are calling on us calumnies, abuse and persecution, but which are taken up by the other Party as soon as we are put out of the field. After having been baffled and most shamefully so, in an attempt against the Pope's dominions. [51] they are now, at a few days' distance, taking up our plan. We shall have to do the same, soon or late, concerning Rome, and then Venice. And we shall, if life endures. Only, I am worn out, morally and physically.

Everything is now resting on Garibaldi: will he go on, without interruption, in his invading career, or will he not? That is the question. If he does, we shall have unity within five months: Austria, spite of the boasted position, will not hold up, if the proper means—a coup de main in the Tyrol, an insurrection in the Venetian mountainous districts, an attack by land, and a landing near Trieste—are adopted. If he does not, we shall have slumber, then anarchy—then—a little later—unity. That you may consider as settled, and so far so good. The rest is all wrong. And as for myself don't talk of either prosperity or consciousness of having done, etc. All that is chaff. The only real good thing would be to have unity atchieved [sic] quickly through Garibaldi, and one year, before dying, of Walham Green or Eastbourne, long silences, a few affectionate words to smooth the ways, plenty of sea-gulls, and sad dozing.

Ah! if you had, in England, condescended to see that the glorious declaration of non-interference ought to have begun by taking away the French interference in Rome! How many troubles and sacrifices you would have saved us!—ever your truly affectionate and grateful


[In another letter to Mr. Taylor, dated June 5, 1860, he says:]

Yes, I heard of Lady Byron's death and her last gift. I wish something came out, now that she is dead, to explain the separation mystery. I shall ever regret the burning of the memoirs, which was a crime towards Byron; and I have ever indulged in the dream that a copy should be extant in somebody's hands to come out after the disappearing of the principal actors. I saw Lady Byron twice, and she looked to me a good sharp positive somewhat dry puritanical woman, sad from the past, conscious of not having been altogether right and doing good half for good-doing's sake, half for forgetfulness' sake. But I am so thoroughly Byronian, so deeply convinced that he has been wronged by everybody, that my impression cannot be trusted.

IX. LETTER TO MRS. PETER TAYLOR [February 9, 1865]

Dear Clementia,—

I shall send back the magazine: read the article again: take away all phrases and periphrases: squeeze every period; and then send to me the first idea or view which strikes you as new to yourself. I shall retract.

The whole article amounts to this: repeating fifty times in rather harmonious words that Art is the reproduction of Beauty, etc., etc. Many thanks. Only, what is Beauty? How to discern it? Why is Nature beautiful? Are we to copy, to reproduce Nature? or to add a work of our own, finding out the idea shut in within every symbol? Is Nature anything but the symbolic representation of some truth, which we are to evolve? Or is the drapery of Nature, Nature? Miss C—— says that the Artist must choose the object which is Beautiful. Is not every object more or less so? Is not the grotesque causing the beautiful to shine by contrast? Are the grave-diggers to be suppressed in Hamlet?

Without sifting the nature of Beauty, without giving some definition of it, nobody can attempt to construct a Hierarchy of Art. Miss C. has not even attempted to do so. Still you have been in raptures. Something, therefore, must be in the article. I have not been able to make it out. I beg pardon humbly. That is all I can say.

—ever affectionately yours,




My Dear Friend,—I feel ashamed, but I have been overwhelmed by work, not flourishing in health, although better now, and altogether unable to fulfil what I had promised. Then, and after all, I write to say that I cannot fulfil it. I said that I would write about the education of your son. I find that I cannot. I ought to know him, his tendencies, his capabilities, what he has already learned. To give general rules is nothing. He may require special ones.

I have mentioned his tendencies. That must be your special object. Every man is a speciality, is capable of some definite thing. You must try to discover that special tendency, and then frame his education accordingly. After a general teaching of those branches which are good for any man, direct his studies towards the development of that special tendency which you will have discovered. Education means drawing out, educere, what is in the boy: not creating in him what is not. You cannot create.

But one thing is, must be common to all. You must give him a proper notion of what Life is, and of what the world in which he has been put for the fulfilment of a task is.

Life is a duty, a function, a mission. For God's sake, do not teach him any Benthamite theory about happiness either individual or collective. A creed of individual happiness would make him an egotist: a creed of collective happiness will reach the same result soon or late. He will perhaps dream Utopias, fight for them, whilst young; then, when he will find that he cannot realise rapidly the dream of his soul, he will turn back to himself and try to conquer his own happiness: sink into egotism.

Teach him that Life has no sense unless being a task:—that happiness may, like sunshine on a traveller, come to him, and he must welcome it and bless God for it; but that to look for it is destroying both the moral man and his duty and most likely the possibility of ever enjoying it:—that to improve himself, morally and intellectually, for the sake of improving his fellow-creatures, is his task:—that he must try to get at Truth and then represent it, in words and deeds, fearlessly and perennially:—that to get at Truth, two criteria have been given to him, his own conscience and tradition, the conscience of mankind:—that whenever he will find the inspiration of his own conscience harmonising with that of mankind, sought for not in the history of a single period or of a single people, but of all periods and peoples, then he is sure of having Truth within his grasp:—that the basis of all Truth is the knowledge of the Law of Life, which is indefinite Progression:—that to this Law he must be a servant.

This knowledge of the Law of Progression must be your aim in all your teaching.

Elementary Astronomy, elementary Geology, ought to be taught as soon as possible. Then, universal History, then Languages.

The difficult thing is to get the proper teaching. When I speak, for instance, of Astronomy, I mean a survey of the Universe, of which the Earth is part, grounded on Herschel's theory and tending to prove how everything is the exponent of a Law of Progression, how the Law is one, how every part of the Universe accomplishes a function in the whole. Herschel, Nichol, Guillemin's recently translated "Heavens" are the guides to be chosen.

Languages are easily learned in boyhood. French, German, and Italian ought to be taught. Two years of study may put the boy in communication with three worlds.

I would not teach any positive Religion; but the great fundamental Trinity, God, the immortality of the soul, the necessity of a religion as a common link of brotherhood for mankind, grounded on the acknowledgment of the Law of Progression. At a later period he will choose.

Geography of course will be taught. But everything taught in a general way and not applied is easily forgot. The best way is to have a collection of good maps and to give him the habit of never reading a historical book or even a tale without following it up on the map. It is the best and most lasting way.

Avoid novels and tales. Give him a taste for historical books and scientific descriptive illustrated books of natural history travels, etc.

In one word, a religious conception of life—then a full notion of the world he lives in—then the special branch of activity to which he seems inclined: that is the whole of education for your boy.

Forgive these hurried notes. Apply to me freely for any detail or special suggestion. I shall be most happy to answer. Give my love to Mrs. Malleson and to Miss K. M. How are they? How is your father? Where are you all now?—Ever affectionately yours,




[Written for the Pen and Pencil Club in April 1867, and privately published in 1877, with other papers written by its members.]

Dearest Friend,—The subject of your meeting of to-morrow is so suggestive that I would gladly join you all, and write an essay on it, if I had health and time. I have neither, and, perhaps, better so. My essay, I candidly avow, would tend to prove that no essay ought to be written on the subject. It has no reality. A sort of intuitive instinct led you to couple "Ghosts and Rest" together.

There is, here down, [52] and there ought to be, no Rest. Life is an aim; an aim which can be approached, not reached, here down. There is, therefore, no rest. Rest is immoral.

It is not mine now to give a definition of the aim; whatever it is, there is one, there must be one. Without it, Life has no sense. It is atheistical; and moreover an irony and a deception.

I entertain all possible respect for the members of your Club; but I venture to say that any contribution on Rest which will not exhibit at the top a definition of Life will wander sadly between wild arbitrary intellectual display and commonplaces.

Life is no sinecure, no "recherche du bonheur" to be secured, as the promulgators of the theory had it, by guillotine, or, as their less energetic followers have it, by railway shares, selfishness, or contemplation. Life is, as Schiller said, "a battle and a march"; a battle for Good against Evil, for Justice against arbitrary privileges, for Liberty against Oppression, for associated Love against Individualism; a march onwards to Self, through collective Perfecting to the progressive realisation of an Ideal, which is only dawning to our mind and soul. Shall the battle be finally won during life-time? Shall it on Earth? Are we believing in a millennium? Don't we feel that the spiral curve through which we ascend had its beginning elsewhere, and has its end, if any, beyond this terrestrial world of ours. Where is then a possible foundation for your essays and sketches?

Goethe's "Contemplation" has created a multitude of little sects aiming at Rest, where is no rest, falsifying art, the element of which is evolution, not reproduction, transformation, not contemplation, and enervating the soul in self-abdicating Brahmanic attempts. For God's sake let not your Club add one little sect to the fatally existing hundreds!

There is nothing to be looked for in life except the uninterrupted fulfilment of Duty, and, not Rest, but consolation and strengthening from Love. There is, not Rest, but a promise, a shadowing forth of Rest in Love. Only there must be in Love absolute trust; and it is very seldom that this blessing depends [? descends] on us. The child goes to sleep, a dreamless sleep, with unbounded trust, on the mother's bosom; but our sleep is a restless one, agitated by sad dreams and alarms.

You will smile at my lugubrious turn of mind; but if I was one of your Artists, I would sketch a man on the scaffold going to die for a great Idea, for the cause of Truth, with his eye looking trustfully on a loving woman, whose finger would trustfully and smilingly point out to him the unbounded. Under the sketch I would write, not Rest, but "a Promise of Rest." Addio: tell me one word about the point of view of your contributors.—Ever affectionately yours,


XII. Letter to Mrs Peter Taylor [From Lugano, December 12, 1868.]
Dear Clementia,—

I am better, although not so much as my friends here suppose. I feel, from various little symptoms, as if I could any week have the complaint back. I may, and hope to be mistaken, however. So, let us accept what instalment is granted, and not think of the future. I might give myself an additional chance, if I could keep absolutely silent and motionless during one month. But I cannot. There is—at least—a possibility of the Republic being proclaimed in Spain; and if so, we must try to follow, a preparatory very complex work is therefore unavoidable. It is useless to tell me: "if you keep quiet now, you will be able to work better henceforward." The important thing is to work now.

Your cabinet [53] is a shameful contrivance.... It is an implement good for the conquest of the Irish measure, and soon after, I think, the majority will split into two or three fractions. As to your—quite forgotten—international life, the main thing about which, according to me, you ought to care, Lord Clarendon's policy will be a French and Austrian policy. What does Peter say? Is he still enthusiastic about Gladstone?

Your women-emancipating movement is fairly imitated in Italy. We have a central committee of ladies in Naples, and sub-committees here and there, and one or two members of our House pleading for them. All this is very right, and I hope that next year, European events will help this movement; but meanwhile, I should wish very much that, whilst you attack men with their gross injustice, you should teach women to deserve their emancipation: nothing is conquered unless deserved. The poor working men have deserved; they have for one century fought, bled, acted for all the good causes in Europe: the majority of your women still fight almost entirely for a husband to be won by their personal genuine or artificial appearance; they worship fashion more than the Ideal. You ought to write one tract to men and one to them.

Try to be well: give my love to Peter and believe in the deep and lasting affection of


XIII. Letter to Mr William Shaen [From Gaeta, Oct. 12, 1870].

Dear Shaen,—I know that a few words from me and from here will please you. You do not forget me, and you have never been forgotten: none is of those whom I loved in England. For many reasons, I cannot write to all my friends, and they know the general state of things concerning me from good, faithful, dear Caroline. [54] I am, physically, tolerably well; for the rest "fata viam invenient."

I know that you have been and are very active in the "Woman's Emancipation Movement." Every good cause has ever found you ready to help; and I had no doubt of your coming forward in one which ought to be a matter of simple duty for anyone believing that there is but one God—one Life—one Law of progress through Love, Equality and Association for it. Still, it is comforting to hear of it. The movement has begun and with some degree of power in Italy too: it would rapidly and successfully increase had we not to complete, before all other things, our national edifice.

Ever and most affectionately yours,


28/9/70, Gaeta.

This note was written, as you see, long ago: and through some reason or other, it did not go; and I am able now to add that to-morrow I shall be free, and the day after I shall leave Gaeta. The amnesty, of course, I shall refuse to avail myself of! I must be free of doing whatever I think right and without even the shadow of ungratefulness to any body—even to a King. After a few days I shall therefore leave Italy again. It may be that during next month I come—for one month—to see my English friends: I wish and hope so. Meanwhile: live and prosper.—Yours ever,


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Re: The Life of Mazzini, by Bolton King, M.A.

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Appendix B: Bibliography of Mazzini's Writings.

[The following is a list of the materials, which (with few exceptions) have been used in compiling this volume. It is, I believe, a complete list of writings of any importance by or concerning Mazzini, except some, which contain purely political references. For some of the minor references I wish to acknowledge my indebtedness to Signor Canestrelli's bibliography, published with his translation of von Schack's Giuseppe Mazzini e l'unità italiana (Rome, 1892).]


The bulk of Mazzini's writings have been collected in Scritti editi e inediti di Giuseppe Mazzini, 18 vols. (Milan and Rome, 1861-1891). There is an excellent selection, edited by Madame Mario, as Scritti scelti di Giuseppe Mazzini (Florence, 1901).

A good many of Mazzini's less important journalistic articles have not been included in the Scritti editi e inediti. There are several more notable omissions:—

Una notte di Rimini, said to be Mazzini's first strictly political writing, republished in Madame Mario's life.

Due adunanze degli accademici pitagorici, and Di Vittor Hugo e dell'Angelo tiranno, published in Il Subalpino, 1839, and reprinted in Donaver, Vita di G. Mazzini.

Byron e Goethe (very important for Mazzini's literary views), published in Scritti letterari d'un italiano vivente (Lugano, 1847), republished in Madame Mario's Scritti scelti, and badly translated in the Life and Writings, vol. ii.

Sulla pittura in Italia, published in Scritti letterari.

Macchiavelli, published in ditto.

Victor Hugo, published in British and Foreign Review, 1838, and republished in Life and Writings, vol. ii.

Lamartine, published in British and Foreign Review, 1839, and republished in Life and Writings, vol. ii.

Letters on the state and prospects of Italy, published in Monthly Chronicle, May-Sept. 1839.

George Sand, published in Monthly Chronicle, July 1839; extracts republished in Life and Writings, vol. vi.

Thiers, published in Monthly Chronicle, July 1839.

Review of C. Balbo's Vita di Dante, published in The European, Jan. 1840, and translated in A. von Schack, Joseph Mazzini und die italienische Einheit.

Italian Art, published in Westminster Review, April 1841. [There is no direct evidence that this was written by Mazzini, but the internal evidence is rather strong. I believe that it was translated into or from the Révue républicaine.]

Introduction and notes to Foscolo's edition of the Divina Commedia (see above, p. 94).

Pensieri sulla storia d'Italia, published in l'Educatore (London, 1843).

Sull'educazione, published in ditto, and republished in l'Emancipazione (Rome), Oct. 5, 1872.

A prayer for the planters, published for the first time in this volume, pp. 349-352.

Address of the People's International League, republished in Life and Writings, vol. vi. (see above, note to p. 303).

Notes for an answer to the Irish Repealers, published in Scottish Leader, July, 1888 (see above, p. 107).

George Sand, published in People's Journal; extracts republished in Life and Writings, vol. vi.

Non-intervention, published as a tract by the "Friends of Italy," and republished in Life and Writings, vol. vi.

Rest, published privately by the Pen and Pencil Club, and republished in this volume, pp. 363-365.

Italy and the Republic, published in Fortnightly Review, March 1, 1871.

The Franco-German War and the Commune, published in Contemporary Review, April and June, 1871.

[Signor Cagnacci in his Giuseppe Mazzini e i fratelli Ruffini publishes a rhapsodical Aux jeunes italiens and a short poemAddio dalle Alpi, which he believes to be from Mazzini's pen; he gives, however, no evidence whatever in support of his theory. For Mazzini's supposed youthful poetry see Donaver, Uomini e libri, 77, 119, and Vita di G. Mazzini, 29 n., 431, and Canestrelli's bibliography, pp. 290, 291, 305, 308-9, 311.]


The greater portion of the first seven volumes of the Scritti editi e inediti, with some additional matter, was translated into English as Life and Writings of Joseph Mazzini, 6 vols. (London, 1870). The Duties of Man and Democracy in Europe (alias The Systems and the Democracy, the early chapters of which were written originally in English) have been translated by Madame Venturi and were published by H. S. King in 1877 and later by Alexander and Shepherd. From the Pope to the Council (alias Letter to the Oecumenical Council) and Lamennais have been translated by Mme. Venturi. Faith and the Future and other essays have been translated by Mr T. Okey and published by Dent. Together with From the Council to God,The Duties of Man, and To the Italian Working-man, they have been published by Dent in "Everyman's Library." Various extracts have been collected by the Bishop of Truro and published by Fisher Unwin. There is a volume of translations in the Camelot Classics. Several earlier translations of separate essays have been published.

There are two volumes of a German translation, published by Hoffmann u. Campe (Hamburg, 1868). The Duties of Man and Democracy in Europe are published in French by Charpentier (Paris, 1881).


Mazzini's papers were—

La Giovine Italia. Marseilles and Switzerland. 1832-1836. [Reprinted in the Biblioteca storica del risorgimento italiano.]

La Jeune Suisse. Bienne. 1835-1836.

L'Apostolato Popolare. London. 1840-1843.

L'Italia del Popolo. Milan, 1848; Rome, 1849; Lausanne and Lugano, 1849-1851.

Pensiero ed Azione. London. 1858-1860.

La Roma del Popolo. Rome. 1870-1872.

He contributed largely to—

L'Indicatore Genovese. Genoa. 1828.

L'Indicatore Livornese. Leghorn. 1829.

L'Italiano. Paris. 1836. [7 articles, signed "E. J."]

L'Educatore. London. 1843.

Italia e Popolo. Genoa. 1855-1856.

L'Unità italiana. Genoa. 1860-1865.


The following collections have been published:—

Giuseppe Mazzini e i fratelli Ruffini, by C. Cagnacci (Porto Maurizio, 1893). Contains his letters to Madame Ruffini (1837-1841), a few letters to A. and G. Ruffini, and extracts from his letters to Elia Benza.

Lettres intimes de Joseph Mazzini, publiées par D. Melegari (Paris, 1895). Contains letters to L. A. Melegari and Madame de Mandrot (mostly 1836-1843).

La Giovine Italia e la giovine Europa (Milan, 1906). Contains letters to L. A. Melegari (chiefly 1833).

Lettere inedite di Giuseppe Mazzini, pubblicate da L. Ordoño de Rosales (Turin, 1898). Contains letters to Gaspare de Rosales (mostly 1834-1836).

Duecento lettere inedite di Giuseppe Mazzini con proemio e note di D. Giuriati (Turin, 1887). Contains letters to G. Lamberti (mostly 1837-1844).

Lettere di G. Mazzini ad A. Giannelli (Prato and Pistoia, 1888-1892) (letters of 1859-1870).

Lettres de Joseph Mazzini à Daniel Stern [Vicomtesse d'Agoult] (Paris, 1873) (letters of 1864-1872).

Corrispondenza inedita di Giuseppe Mazzini con ... (Milan, 1872). [This is the correspondence in 1863-1864 with Signor Diamilla-Müller, who was the intermediary between Mazzini and Victor Emmanuel. It has been republished in Politica segreta italiana (Turin, 1880).]

A very imperfect collection of Mazzini's correspondence is now being published under the editorship of Signor Ernesto Nathan, as Epistolario di Giuseppe Mazzini (Florence, 1902). Two volumes only have as yet appeared; their most important feature is Mazzini's correspondence with his mother.

Many letters are also published in the introductions to Mazzini's Scritti editi e inediti and in Madame Mario's Della Vito di G. Mazzini and Scritti scelti; also in Linaker, La vita e i tempi di E. Mayer (Florence, 1898) [letters to E. Mayer]; Nuova Antologia, Dec. 1, 1884 [letters to Madame Magiotti and E. Mayer]; Ib., May 1 and 16, 1890 [letters to F. Le Monnier]; Ib., May 1, 1907; Del Cerro (pseud.), Un amore di G. Mazzini (Milan, 1895) [correspondence with Giuditta Sidoli; see above, p. 51]; Rivista d'Italia, April, 1902 [letters to N. Fabrizi and others]. Scattered letters may be found in Ramorino, Précis des derniers événemens de Savoie (Paris, 1834); Daily News, 1853 [see above, p. 169]; Orsini, Memoirs (Edinburgh, 1857); Il risorgimento italiano, Feb. 11, 1860; L'Unità italiana, Jan. 15 and 21 and June 3, 1861; Roma e Venezia, Jan. 15, 1861; Cironi, La stampa nazionale italiana (Prato, 1862); Lettere edite ed inedite di F. Orsini, G. Mazzini, etc. (Milan, 1862); The Shield, Oct. 1, 1870; Uberti, Poesie (Milan, 1871); Moncure Conway, Mazzini (London, 1872); La Gazzetta di Milano, Jan. 22, 1872; L'Emancipazione (Rome), Jan. 24, 1874; La Cecilia, Memorie storico-politiche (Rome, 1876); De Monte, Cronaca del comitato segreto di Napoli (Naples, 1877); Quattro lettere a P. Mazzoleni (Imola, 1881); Lettera a Filippo Ugoni(Rovigo, 1887); Donaver, Uomini e libri (Genoa, 1888); Carbonelli, Niccola Mignona (Naples, 1889); Fanfulla della Domenica, April 21 and 28 and May 12, 1889; Rassegna nazionale, Oct. 1, 1890; Rivista della massoneria italiana, 1890-1891 and 1891-2; The Century, Nov. 1891; Lettere inedite di G. Mazzini a N. Andreini (Imola, 1897); Rivista storica del risorgimento italiano, 1897 and 1900; Saffi, Ricordi e scritti, vol. iii. (Florence, 1898); Giornale d'Italia, March 23 and April 10, 1902; Lumbroso, Scaramucce, pp. 247, 288; Del Cerro in Rivista Moderna, 1902; Secolo, Aug. 13, 1902; Donaver, Vita di G. Mazzini (Florence, 1903); Corriere della sera, Aug. 9, 1903, and Aug. 9, 1909; Card. Capecelatro, Vita della serva di Dio, Paola Frassinetti; Mrs Fletcher's Autobiography; Froude, Carlyle's Life in London; Ireland, Jane Welsh Carlyle; Duncombe's Life and Correspondence; De Amicis, Cuore (pages 222 of Ed. 8); Quinet, Œuvres completes, xi. 32, 423; Luzio, G. Mazzini (Milan, 1905); Gianelli, Brevi ricordi Mazziniani (Florence, 1905); Essays of Mazzini, translated by T. Okey; Parliamentary Papers, Correspondence affecting affairs of Italy, 1846-1849, i. 223 (probably genuine).

I have also been able to see some 350 unpublished letters,—to Mr and Mrs. Peter Taylor (of the greatest value for Mazzini's public and private life); Mr. William Shaen (a large and important collection); Mrs Milner-Gibson; Mr. W. Malleson; Mr. W. E. Hickson (when editor of the Westminster Review); Mr. Peter Stuart; and Miss Galeer.


Mazzini's autobiographical notes in the earlier volumes of the Scritti editi e inediti are of course of the highest value. The completest life is Mario, Della vita di Giuseppe Mazzini (Milan, 1886), containing a mass of valuable material, but partial and including much extraneous matter. There is a much better study of Mazzini's early life, prefixed to the same authoress' Scritti scelti. Saffi's introductions to several volumes of the Scritti editie e inediti are most valuable. Donaver's Vita di G. Mazzini is useful, especially for the earlier period. There is a short memoir by Madame Venturi (née Miss Ashurst) prefixed to the English translation of the Duties of Man. I have seen no other biographies of any value.


There is a life-like portrait of Mazzini and much information about his early life in G. Ruffini, Lorenzo Benoni (Edinburgh, 1853); a valuable sketch, largely based on conversations with Madame Mazzini, by Mr William Shaen in The Public Good, 1851; and some useful information in Donaver, Uomini e libri. There are studies of more or less value in Cantimori, Saggio sull'idealismo di G. Mazzini (Faenza, 1904); Linaker, La Vita italiana nel risorgimento (Florence, 1899); Nencioni, Saggi critici di letteratura italiana (Florence, 1898); Oxilia, Giuseppe Mazzini, uomo e letterato (Florence, 1902); F. Myers inFortnightly Review, 1878; De Sanctis, La letteratura italiana nel secola XIX. (Naples, 1902); D'Ancona e Bacci, Manuale della lettaratura italiana, vol. v. (Florence, 1901); Mazzini: Conferenze tenute in Genova (Genova, 1906). There are valuable analyses of Mazzini's economic position in Bozzino, Il socialismo e la dottrina sociale di Mazzini (Genoa, 1895), and Bertacchi, Il pensiero sociale di Giuseppe Mazzini (Milan, 1900). Hostile studies in Bianchi, Vicende del Mazzinianismo(Savona, 1854) and Grüber, Massoneria e Rivoluzione (Rome, 1901), the latter of small value.

There are notices in Mrs Carlyle's Letters and Memorials; Carlyle's Reminiscences; Froude, Carlyle's Life in London; Correspondence of Carlyle and Emerson; Mrs Fletcher's Autobiography; W. J. Linton, European Republicans and Memories; T. S. Cooper, Autobiography; Gabriel Rossetti, Versified Autobiography; Clough, Prose Remains and Amours de Voyage; Margaret Fuller Ossoli, Memoirs; Fagan, Life of Panizzi; Gustavo Modena, Epistolario (Rome, 1888); Giurati, Memorie d'emigrazione (Milan, 1897); Badii, Antologia Mazziniana (Pitigliano, 1898); Pensiero ed azione nel risorgimento italiano(Città di Castello, 1898); Faldella, I fratelli Ruffini (Turin, 1900); Lumbroso, Scaramucce e Avvisaglie (Frascati, 1902); Cironi in Il Bruscolo, March 9, 1902; Tracts of the Society of the Friends of Italy; Saffi, Ricordi e scritti, vol. iii.; Felix Moscheles, Fragments of an Autobiography; articles by Matilde Blind in Fortnightly, May, 1891; articles by Karl Blind inFraser's, August-September, 1882; article by Professor Masson in Macmillan's, 1871; article by Madame Venturi in The Century, November, 1891; the privately published Life of Miss Catherine Winkworth; Jowett's Letters; letter by C. E. Maurice to The Spectator, March 6, 1872; Barbiera, Figure e figurine (Milan, 1899) and Memorie di un editore; Lloyd Garrison's introduction to his edition of some of Mazzini's Essays; T. S. Cooper, A Paradise of Martyrs; G. J. Holyoake,Bygones; Caroline Fox, Memories; Madame Adams, Memoirs; De Lesseps, Ma Mission à Rome; Rusconi, Repubblica Romana; Diamilla-Müller, Roma e Venezia; Stillman, Union of Italy; Zini, Storia d'Italia, Documenti I.
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Re: The Life of Mazzini, by Bolton King, M.A.

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Action, need of, 156, 257, 259, 318, 353, 363-365.
Aeschylus, 9, 10, 259, 324.
Alps, love of, 19, 52, 116, 329.
America, friends in, 105, 106, 170, 171; on policy of, 171, 198, 199, 280, 309.
Amnesty, 179, 201, 209, 217, 367.
Antologia, writes in the, 14.
"Art for the sake of Art, " 147, 314.
Ashursts, 88, 106, 124, 144, 152, 184, 372.
Asia, Europe and, 309.
Aspromonte, 201, 202.
Assassination, charges of promoting, 48, 104, 164-167, 197; attempts to assassinate Mazzini, 142, 170.
Association, theory of, 270-272, 281, 295, 296.
Astronomy, interest in, 330, 362.
Authority, need of, 247, 248, 265.

Bakounine, Michel, relations with, 209, 219, 274, 283.
Bandiera, Attilio and Emilio, 103.
Beethoven, 322, 323.
Belgium, future of, 308.
Bentham, see Utilitarians.
Bertani, Agostino, 136, 185-187, 220.
Birds, love of, 15, 146, 185, 356.
Bismarck, relations with, 206, 215.
Blanc, Louis, 163, 287.
Browning, Robert and Mrs, 145, 150, 327.
Buonarrotti, Michelangelo, 41, 50.
Byron, 9, 20, 108, 140, 149, 150, 216, 316, 317, 326, 327, 352, 359, 360.

Carbonari, 2, 15-19, 22-24, 29, 35, 41.
Carlyles, friendship with, 78, 84-88, 93, 104, 141, 144, 146, 339; criticism of Thomas Carlyle, 84, 243, 249.
Catholicism, attitude towards, 98, 111, 112, 127, 131, 132, 181, 192, 226, 227, 245, 246.
Cavour, Camillo, 25, 160-162, 165, 172, 173, 177-179, 183-187.
Charles Albert, 42, 43, 46, 47, 100, 110, 115, 119, 121, 123, 124; letter to, 43-45, 348.
Chartists, 82, 83, 93, 283, 286.
Christianity, attitude towards, 8, 59, 127, 220, 225-233, 246, 253, 262, 263, 266, 350.
Christian Socialists, 233.
Church, need of a, 246; relations to the State, 246, 247, 278, 279.
Clergy, attitude towards, 130, 131.
Clough, Arthur Hugh, 129, 133, 148.
Collectivists, criticism of, 219, 287-290.
Conscience (consciousness), a criterion of truth, 240-242, 362.
Constantinople, future of, 309.
Contemplation, selfishness of, 258.
Cooperative Societies, scheme of, 194, 218, 293-295.
Council of best and wisest, 247, 248, 310, 311.
Cremer, W. Randal, 219.
Crimean War, criticism of, 151, 152, 172.
Crispi, Francesco, 173, 187, 205.
Criticism, theory of literary, 312-314.

Daily News, 153, 169.
Dante, 8, 9, 20, 74, 93, 101, 127, 197, 299, 317, 324.
Darwinism, relation to, 236, 330.375
Death, must be faced for duty, 260.
Deism, criticism of, 235.
Democracy, attitude towards, 274, 276-278; and poetry, 316, 319, 320.
Denmark, future of, 308.
De Vigny, Alfred Victor, 9, 65.
Disraeli, Benjamin, 108, 197.
Dogma, importance of, 233, 234.
Donizetti, 322.
Drama, love of historical, 11, 320, 321.
Dudevant, Madame de (see George Sand).
Duncombe, Thomas, 104.
Duty, theory of, 26, 56, 57, 256-266, 290, 296, 362, 364.

Economic Principles, 254, 285, 286, 292, 330, 331.
Education, theories of, 265, 270, 272-275, 361-363.
England, love for, 83, 140; life and politics of, 82, 83, 150-152, 197, 198, 210, 219, 280, 332; foreign policy of, 105, 304, 305, 309, 310, 365; studies in literature of, 9, 149, 150; help from for Italy, 106, 152, 153, 193, 194 (see London).
Ethics, insufficient without religion, 224, 250; theories of, 249-263; sanction of, 263.
Europe, solidarity of, 302, 303, 309, 310; future of, 307-309 (see Young Europe).

Family life, remarks on, 65, 66, 72, 264-266.
Fanti, Manfredo, 49, 118, 123, 187.
Federalists (see Italian Unity).
Fenians, 199, 200.
Fletcher, Mrs Archibald, 83.
Florence, visits to, 126, 179-182, 186, 220.
Foreign policy, ethics of, 302-306.
Foscolo, Ugo, 3, 9, 12, 64, 93-95, 101, 108, 220.
France, policy of, 1830, 22, 35; ditto at Rome (1849), 134, 135; ditto in 1867, 212; the Third Republic in, 220; Mazzini's dislike of, 60, 134, 163, 220; as a nationality, 298, 300, 307; character of, 307 (seeNapoleon).
"Free Church in a Free State, " 247.
Freemason, not a, 213.
French Revolution, criticism of, 59, 232, 250.
Friendly Societies, 212, 218.
"Friends of Italy, " 152, 153.
Fuller-Ossoli, Margaret, 86, 88, 129, 132, 138.

Gaeta, imprisonment at, 216, 217.
Gallenga, Antonio, 166.
Garibaldi, Giuseppe, 41, 118, 124; at Rome (1849), 134, 136, 137; in 1859, 181, 182; and Sicily, 173, 184-186, 355; wants to march to Rome, 187, 188; Mazzini's relations with (1861-1867), 200, 201, 203, 204, 212, 220; in England, 203, 204; policy in 1867, 211, 212.
Garrison, William Lloyd, 195, 210.
Gaskell, Mrs, 7, 145.
Geneva, life at and visits to, 19, 48, 138-140.
Genius, theory of, 241, 242, 331.
Genoa, early life at, 1-4, 13, 15; politics at, 39, 40, 42, 46, 47, 50, 65; visits to, 171, 173-175, 185, 210, 213, 214, 217, 220; buried at, 221.
Geography, interest in, 299, 330, 363; as a basis of nationality, 299.
"George Sand, " 90-92.
Germany, future of, 215, 307; character of, 306; attitude towards alliance with, 205, 214; dislike of German professors, 275; German music, 322.
Gioberti, Vincenzo, 41, 61, 96, 101, 127.
God, belief in, 80, 234-236, 250.
Goethe, 9, 13, 324-326, 364.
Government, theory of, 247, 275, 278, 279.376
Graham, Sir James, 104.
Greco, Pasquale, 166, 197, 198.
Greece, future of, 308, 309.
Greville Street, school in, 98, 142.
Guerilla fighting, 33.
Guerrazzi, Francesco Domenico, 9, 13, 14, 65, 114, 126.

Happiness, not an end of life, 255, 256, 364; dislike of, 339.
Hegel, 10, 275.
Herder, Johann Gottfried von, 10, 242.
Herzen, Alexander, 204.
History, theories of, 331, 350.
Holland, future of, 308.
Hugo, Victor, 9, 315, 321.
Humanity, theory of, 231, 236, 242, 243, 261, 297.
Hungary, hopes of rising in, 158, 177, 193; future of, 309.

Ideals, necessity of, 239, 240, 249, 250, 288.
Immortality, belief in personal, 80, 144, 237, 238, 357, 358, 364.
Individualism, 272, 327.
Insurrection, policy of, 33, 45, 48-50, 61, 102, 103, 125, 157, 158, 168, 193, 218, 349.
International, The, attack on, 219.
Intuition, 240-242, 244, 245, 277, 330, 351.
Irish Question, remarks on, 107, 199, 200.
Italy, condition of in 1830, 20-22; politics in 1845-47, 100-103; events of 1848-49 in, 114-125, 128; politics in (1850-1858), 154-164; politics in (1859-1860), 177-188; condition of after 1860, 191, 192; war of 1866, 205-207; Republican movement in, 209; Mazzini's belief in mission of, 26, 60, 126-128, 192, 248, 295, 307, 310, 311, 322.
Italian Unity, popular demand for, 20, 21, 31, 121; Mazzini's advocacy of, 31, 32, 111, 117, 155, 180, 181, 192, 211; how far his work, 32, 154, 336.

Jowett, Benjamin, 145, 147, 148, 273.

Kossuth, Louis, 153, 169, 170-1.

Lamartine, Alphonse, 318.
Lamennais, 59, 89, 90, 93, 250.
Landor, Walter Savage, 153, 165.
Lausanne, visits to, 52, 70, 138, 140.
Ledru-Rollin, Alexandre, 146, 171, 199.
Left, Parliamentary, 205, 209, 212.
Leghorn, 13, 40, 114, 126, 217.
Lesseps, Ferdinand de, 135.
Liberty, theory of, 269, 270, 272, 273, 278, 351.
Lincoln, President, 196, 199.
Linton, W. J., 88, 106, 153.
Literature, principles of, 11, 12, 312-321; as a basis of nationality, 299; Mazzini's literary work, 13, 14, 39, 64, 65, 92-94, 108, 109, 139, 149, 196, 197, 213, 312, 329, 330.
Local Government, theories of, 194, 307.
London, life in, 73-98, 140-148, 195, 196, 210; feelings about, 73, 74, 78, 140, 141.
Lugano, 65, 125, 126, 182, 184, 202, 204, 210, 213.

Malleson, Mr and Mrs W., 144, 198, 361-363, 371.
Mameli, Goffredo, 66, 136, 137.
Mandrot, Madeleine de, 70-72.
Manin, Daniele, 163, 164, 166.
Manzoni, Alessandro, 9, 11, 12, 101.
Marseilles, life at, 36-38, 47, 48; visit to, 138.
Marx, Karl, see Collectivists.
Materialism, attacks on, 59, 224, 285, 288.
Mazzini, Antonia (sister), 220.
Mazzini, Francesca (sister), 80, 81.
Mazzini, Giacomo (father), 1, 58, 76, 81, 144.
Mazzini, Giuseppe, childhood and youth, 1-7; early literary studies and writings, 8-11; 377life in 1827-30, 14, 15, 344, 345; Joins the Carbonari, 15-18; imprisoned and exiled, 18, 19; founds Young Italy, 24-34, 36-41, 345; at Marseilles, 36-38, 47, 48, 345, 346; plans a rising in Piedmont, 42, 45-47; letter to Charles Albert, 42-45, 348; at Geneva, 48; Savoy raid, 48-50, 346; life in Switzerland, 50-56; mental crisis, 55-57; political schemes (1834-36), 58-61; founds Young Switzerland, 62, 63; and Young Europe, 63, 64; literary work (1834-36), 64, 65; his women friends and love, 65-72; life in London (1837-47), 73-89, 97, 98, 103-109; literary work (1837-47), 92-94, 109; political work (1839-45), 95-99, 102, 103; school for Italian boys, 97, 98, 142; relations with the Bandieras, 103; letters opened in English Post-Office, 103-105; founds People's International League, 106; attitude towards Moderates, 29, 110, 111, 113, 114, 120; policy in 1847, 110-114; at Milan, 116-120, 123; preaches the People's War, 125; at Florence, 126; Triumvir at Rome, 126-138; in Switzerland, 139, 140; life in England (1850-1859), 140-148; literary work (1849-59), 139, 149; founds Society of Friends of Italy, 152, 153; attempts to assassinate, 142, 170; political work (1850-57), 154-164, 167-177, 350-356; attitude towards Cavour, 160-162, 172, 173, 176, 183; attitude towards Napoleon III., 140, 162, 163, 177, 179, 190, 193, 199; Genoese plot of 1857, 174, 175; policy in 1858-59, 176-182; policy in 1860, 183-188, 359, 360; policy in 1861-66, 189-194, 200-207; disappointment in Italy, 191; life in England (1860-66), 195-200; Greco plot, 197, 198; attitude towards Garibaldi, 200, 201; intrigue with Victor Emmanuel, 202-204; meets Garibaldi in England, 203, 204; failing health, 195, 210; elected deputy for Messina, 209; organises Republican Alliance, 211-214; writes From the Council to God, 213, 218; intrigues with Bismarck, 215; imprisoned at Gaeta, 216, 217; policy after 1870, 218; attacks the International, 219, 220; illness and death, 220, 221.
—— religious theories, 222-248, see Catholicism, Christianity, Church, God, Immortality, Materialism, Mysticism, Pantheism, Protestantism, Providence, Religion; his own religion, 4, 8, 25, 57, 80, 148, 229, 230, 248, 334, 335, 362; desire to be a religious reformer, 248, 334, 335; value as a thinker, 222, 330-332, see Conscience, Darwinism, Dogma, Genius, Humanity, Philosophy, Progress, Science, Tradition, Unity, Utopias; ethical theories, 249-266, see Duty, Happiness, Ideals, Intuition, Moral law, Personal morality, Pietism, Rights, Utilitarianism; value as a moral teacher, 332-334; political theories, 267-282, see Association, Democracy, Foreign policy, Government, Individualism, Liberty, Patriotism, Republicanism, Sovereignty, Spiritual Power, State, Universal Suffrage, War; position as a politician, 335-337; theories of education, 265, 270, 272-275, 361-363; social theories, 283-295, see Collectivists, Cooperative Societies, Economic principles, Nationalisation, Property, Taxation, Social Reform, Socialism; theory of Nationality, 296-311; literary theories, 11, 12, 312-328, see Byron, Dante, Drama, History, Poetry, Romanticism; writings, 13, 14, 39, 64, 65, 92-94, 108, 109, 139, 149, 196, 197, 213, 312, 329, 330; 378theories of music, 321-323, 350.
—— personal appearance, 6, 36, 37, 143, 210; character, 6, 7, 57, 79-81, 109, 148, 210, 337-341; sense of mission, 58, 96, 333; impulse to action, 156, 259, 318, 353, 363-365; tendency to unhappiness, 55-58, 78-80, 339, 340; poetic temperament, 329, 330; love of system-making, 28, 29; dislike of compromise, 110, 111, 156, 190, 333; charity, 97, 142, 216; tolerance, 129-131, 338; love of nature, 19, 52, 116, 141, 210, 216, 329; love of children, 146; love of birds, 15, 146, 185, 356; interest in women's questions, 65, 91, 219, 265, 278, 365, 366; love of family life, 65, 66, 72, 264-266; as a conversationalist, 147; as a public speaker, 106, 153; money affairs, 53, 76, 77, 108, 109, 141, 142, 196.
—— belief in Italy and Rome, 26, 60, 126-128, 192, 295, 307, 310, 311, 312; advocacy of Italian Unity, see Italian Unity; interest in working classes, see Working Classes; views as to assassination, see Assassination.
Mazzini, Maria Drago (mother), 1, 53, 58, 67, 81, 108, 144, 162, 340.
Mentana, 212.
Messina, elected deputy for, 209.
Mexico, Napoleon's schemes in, 199.
Meyerbeer, 147, 322.
Mickiewicz, 10, 140.
Middle classes, appeals to, 27, 99; deserted by, 109, 157, 170; social reform and, 290.
Milan, 114-120, 123, 124, 168, 169, 214.
Milner-Gibson, Mrs, 106, 144, 357, 371.
Modena, Gustavo and Giulia, 40, 138.
Moderates, attitude towards, 101, 102, 110, 111, 113, 118-120, 125; see Piedmontese Party.
Monarchy, attitude towards, 30, 120, 155, 180, 181, 194, 208, 211, 279, 280.
Moral Law, supremacy of, 249, 267, 285, 300.
Music, love of, 6, 133, 145-147; theories of, 321-323, 350.
Mysticism, interest in, 197, 236.

Naples, visits to, 187, 188, 216.
Napoleon, Louis (afterwards Napoleon III.), 40, 134, 135, 140, 161, 162, 176-183, 186, 190, 197, 201, 206, 287.
Nathan, Giuseppe and Sarah, 210.
Nationalisation, projects of, 131, 194, 293.
Nationality, moral basis of, 296, 297, 302; marks of, 298-301; national missions, 107, 306, 307; should be large, 198, 307.
Non-intervention, attack on, 151, 304, 305, 360.

Odger, George, 219.
Orsini, Felice, 165, 167.

Pallavicino Trivulzio, Marquis Giorgio, 188.
Palmerston, Viscount, 105, 203.
Panizzi, Antonio, 89.
Pantheism, criticism of, 235.
Papacy, see Catholicism.
Patriotism, 232, 265, 267, 301, 302.
People's International League, 106.
People's War, 125.
Personal morality, preaches, 264, 286, 338; dependant on environment, 267, 268; essential to patriotism, 301.
Philosophy, studies in, 10; insufficient without religion, 224, 225.
Piedmont, army plot in, 42, 45-47.
Piedmontese party, 154-156, 159-161, 173.
Pietism, criticism of, 257, 258.
Pilo, Rosalino, 184.
Pisa, death at, 221.
Pisacane, Carlo (Duke di San Giovanni), 136, 139, 174.379
Pius IX., 110-112, 114; Mazzini's letter to, 111, 112.
Plombières, agreement of, 177, 179.
Poetry, theories of, 313-321, 324, 352, 353, 361; Mazzini's, 329, 330, 369.
Poland, plans to assist, 193, 194, 202; literature of, 10, 327; future of, 306, 308, 309.
Post-Office scandal, 103-105; see 197.
Progress, theory of, 236-239, 257, 362.
Property, rights of, 270, 291.
Protestantism, attitude towards, 150, 152, 227, 240, 244.
Providence, belief in, 125, 233, 235-237, 239, 257, 285, 288, 296, 299, 350.

Race as an element of nationality, 298.
Ramorino, General, 49, 50.
Rattazzi, Urbano, 201, 211, 212.
Realism in literature, 314-315, 361, 364.
Reclamation of waste lands, 292, 293.
Religion, Mazzini's, 4, 8, 25, 57, 80, 148, 229, 230, 248, 334, 335, 362; essential to society, 222-225, 288; in politics, 26, 60, 223, 224, 240; projected book on, 11, 139, 140, 149.
Renan, criticism of, 220, 235.
Republicanism, advocacy of, 30, 31, 44, 60, 61, 111, 113, 117-120, 125, 126, 155, 164, 167, 180, 186, 194, 208, 209, 211, 365; theory of, 30, 279-281.
Ricasoli, Baron Bettino, 179, 180, 182, 187, 201, 206, 211.
Rights, attack on theory of, 59, 250-256.
Romanticism, criticism of, 9, 12, 13, 320.
Rome, faith in, 126-128, 311; in 1848, 121, 125, 126; republic at, 128-138; policy respecting (1860-1870), 187, 192, 193, 205, 211-213; passes through in 1870, 217.
Rosselli, Pellegrino and Janet Nathan, 217, 221.
Rossetti, Gabriele, 89.
Rossini, criticism of, 147, 322.
Roumania, future of, 309.
Ruffini, Agostino, 7, 65, 73, 75, 76, 78.
—— Marchesa Eleonora Curlo, 8, 15, 56, 67, 68, 80-82, 370.
—— Giovanni, 7, 8, 73, 75, 76, 78.
—— Jacopo, 7, 39, 47, 56, 80, 96.
Russia, foreign policy of, 306, 308, 309.

Saffi, Count Aurelio, 139, 141.
Savona, imprisonment at, 18.
Savoy, views on, 42, 308; projected raid into, 49, 50; cession of, 183.
Scandinavia, future of, 308.
Schiller, 9, 320, 321, 324, 364.
Science, views on, 330.
Secret societies, 33, 34.
Seely, Charles, 203, 204.
September Convention, 204, 205.
Shaen, William and Mrs, 37, 88, 106, 144, 147, 152, 349, 366, 371, 372.
Shakespeare, 9, 317, 324, 325, 357.
Sicily, plans for revolutionising, 170, 173, 181, 183, 186.
Sidoli, Giuditta, 48, 55, 68-71, 126, 171, 191, 220, 371.
Slavery, views on, 198, 349-352.
Slavs, literature of, 10, 299, 308, 327; future of, 149, 308, 309.
Social reform, advocacy of, 27, 28, 99, 132, 220, 232, 254, 283-285, 350; plans of, 194, 289-295.
Socialism, criticism of, 99, 271, 287-289, 291, 295.
Sovereignty, theory of, 275, 276.
Spain, future of, 308.
Spinoza, criticism of, 235.
Spiritual power, theories of the, 246-248, 278, 279.
Spiritualism, aversion to, 197.
Stansfeld, Sir James and Mrs, 88, 106, 144, 145, 152, 195, 197, 210, 218, 366.
State, the, moral basis of, 267, 268, 275, 276; 380duties of, 269-275; ideal form of, 281, 282; relations to the church, 246, 247, 278, 279.
Swinburne, Algernon C., 145, 217.
Switzerland, life in, 51-56, 63; politics of, 62, 308; see Geneva, Lausanne, Lugano.

Taine, Hippolyte, 217.
Taxation, principles of, 293.
Taylor, Peter and Mrs, 88, 106, 144, 152, 352-357, 359-361, 365, 371.
Theory of dagger, the, see Assassination.
Times, The, 104, 153, 164-166.
Toynbee, Joseph, 88, 98.
Tradition: a criterion of truth, 242-244, 362.
Tyrol, 206, 208, 308.

Umbria, projected attacks on, 181, 186.
Unity of life, 8, 236, 245, 350; of belief, 245, 246, 273, 274.
Universal suffrage, 277, 278.
Utilitarianism, criticism of, 251-256, 362.
Utopias, condemns, 243, 289.

Venice, plans to free, 187, 188, 192, 193, 200.
Vico, 10, 242.
Victor Emmanuel II., attitude towards, 162, 165, 166, 180, 181, 186, 188; intrigue with, 202-204.

Wagner, Richard, anticipates, 323.
War, views on, 33, 151, 305, 306.
Werner, 65.
Women's questions, interest in, 65, 91, 219, 265, 278, 365, 366.
Wordsworth, 9, 150, 235, 237, 315, 318.
Working classes, belief in, 27, 28, 41, 97-99, 157, 158, 213, 285, 366; sympathy for, 268, 283, 284; moral interests of, 285-287.

Young Europe, 46, 63, 64.
Young Italy, first mention of, 13; principles of, 24-34, 165; foundation of, 36-41; subsequent history of, 54, 95-99, 109; results of, 100.
Young Switzerland, 62, 63.
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Re: The Life of Mazzini, by Bolton King, M.A.

Postby admin » Thu Jul 02, 2015 1:30 am



[1] So Madame Mario, who probably had it from Mazzini's mother, and Madame Venturi on the authority of a college friend. The memoir by another fellow-student in Epistolario di G. Mazzini, I. xxix. says that he thought that a doctor was not free to express his opinions for fear of offending his patients, and that he therefore never studied medicine; so too Donaver, Uomini e libri, 70. But see his Vita di G. Mazzini, 13, on apparently good evidence.

[2] He seems never to have learnt to read German easily; at all events he could not do so till comparatively late in life.

[3] See pp. 325-327.

[4] This description was given to, and published by Mr. W. Shaen. There is reason for thinking it was written by Enrico Mayer, the Tuscan educationalist.

[5] See below, p. 104.

[6] See below, p. 68.

[7] For Gallenga's plot to assassinate the King, see below, c. ix.

[8] Her niece, Mademoiselle Dora Melegari, tells me that her aunt's real name was not Madeleine, as given in the Lettres Intimes; what it was, Mademoiselle Melegari does not at present feel justified in disclosing.

[9] For once his knowledge of Dante seems to have failed him. Many years after he quotes the expression to "Daniel Stern," but owns that he cannot refer to the verse.

[10] He subsequently discovered that it was a loan, and insisted on repaying it shortly before his death.

[11] The only evidence for this is contained in Cagnacci, Giuseppe Mazzini e i fratelli Ruffini, pp. 287, 290, from which it seems probable that Mazzini saw Madame Ruffini between June and November, 1844, and therefore, almost certainly, was at Genoa. Signor Donaver thinks it doubtful whether la Cugina of the Ruffinis' letters refers to Mazzini, but the internal evidence seems to me to favour the identification. Signor Cagnacci's note on p. 290 seems to imply that he has seen a memorandum by Elia Benza to the effect that Benza saw him at Porto Maurizio about this time disguised as a Capucin.

[12] Carlyle's statement (Reminiscences, ii. 182) that he "once or twice" talked with Mazzini is rather startlingly inaccurate. See Carlyle's Life in London, i. 488.

[13] There are some interesting descriptions of the Carlyles in Giovanni Ruffini's letters to his mother. See Cagnacci, op. cit.

[14] Madame Mario says in her Della vita di Mazzini, in the middle of 1838; but I think it is quite clear from Lettres intimes, 197 and 205; Giurati, op. cit., 11-12; Cagnacci, op. cit., 447 that 1839 is the true date.

[15] See below, p. 127.

[16] According to Madame Venturi (English Edition of Mazzini, V. 96) the King offered him the premiership; but neither Mazzini himself, nor, so far as I know, any of the memoirs of the time mention it. For other overtures from the government see Donaver in Rassegna Nazionale, Dec. 1, 1898.

[17] See below, c. xvii.

[18] I owe these particulars to one who knew him well, and to a contemporary description in a private letter.

[19] It has often been supposed that Browning had Mazzini in mind, when he wrote The Italian in England. I know of no evidence for or against this; but the poem was written in 1845, when the letter-opening affair had made Mazzini prominently public. Mazzini is said to have made a translation of it.

[20] See below, pp. 359-360.

[21] Walter Savage Landor wrote to one of Mazzini's friends, promising £95 for the family "of the first patriot, who asserts the dignity and fulfils the duty of tyrannicide."

[22] Alias Luigi Mariotti, writer of Italian grammar books for English schools.

[23] For some of the evidence on these cases, I may refer to my History of Italian Unity, II. 385-387. See also Uccellini, Memorie, 209-210; Mazzini, Lettere ad A. Giannelli, 301, 437. Signor Dagnino tells me from his personal knowledge that in 1864 Mazzini stopped a plot to blow up the Austrian Viceroy of Venetia.

[24] Mazzini's and Kossuth's letters on the subject are in the Daily News of February 19, March 2 and 4, 1853. See also Mazzini, Scritti, VIII. 283-4. He seems to have made a disingenuous use of another proclamation by Kossuth later in the year: see Bianchi, Vicende del Mazzinianismo, 85. I hardly think that Mr. Stillman's statement in his Union of Italy, p. 275, can stand against Kossuth's plain statement in the Daily News. Mr. Stillman too is wrong as to Mazzini's share in the rising. I am inclined on the whole to think that he was justified in using Agostino's name; see Daily News, February 17 and 20, 1853.

[25] Mr. W. R. Thayer has kindly ascertained for me that there is absolutely nothing in Sanders' correspondence in the U.S.A. Bureau of Rolls, that relates either to Mazzini or Kossuth; but Saffi, who tells the story of the dinner, was present at it himself. See Mazzini, Scritti, IX. xciv, 60.

[26] The following letter from Garibaldi has, I believe, not been published: I have translated it.

CAPRERA, March 27, '60.

DEAR MAZZINI,—I am thinking of leaving for Genoa on April 1, from there I shall go to Nice, where I am summoned by my fellow-citizens, who are afraid of falling into the wolf's mouth. I enclose two lines for McAdam [Mr. John McAdam of Glasgow] . If you come, let me know.—Your brother, GIUSEPPE.

P.S.—Mr. Adam of Glasgow will send Mr. William Ashurst a sum for the Million Rifles Fund; please spend it in the purchase of the rifles in question.—G. GARIBALDI.

[27] Rival funds for Mazzini and Garibaldi were collected in England and there was some strong feeling between their respective backers.

[28] According to a letter from Mazzini to Brofferio, published in Roma e Venezia, January 15, 1861, (the full text of which I have not seen), the King seems to have asked for an interview with him, and he had "no shadow of difficulty in principle" to it.

[29] Where Mr. Stansfeld had his brewery and sometimes lived.

[30] Reconnaissant ceux que j'aime; one suspects an omission of à.

[31] Otherwise entitled A Letter to the Oecumenical Council.

[32] I have some doubts, though, whether this Wolff is identical with the Wolff of the journey to Sicily. See Lettere ad A. Giannelli, 503.

[33] Will not some Italian artist paint the scene?

[34] See below, pp. 288, 289.

[35] Conscienza; in Mazzini's use of the word, it covers both 'consciousness' and 'conscience.' Mazzini himself translated it by 'conscience' (see below, p. 362), where 'consciousness' would be more accurate.

[36] Pascal.

[37] In the undated letter, quoted by Signor Donaver in the Rassegna Nazionale, Oct. 1, 1890, he speaks of a reformed Catholic church becoming "the guide of the State and not its servant"; but I think he says rather more than he really felt in order to conciliate an old clerical friend, to whom the letter seems to be addressed.

[38] Mr. Peter Taylor in the Newcastle election, 1859.

[39] See below, pp. 292-294.

[40] In the letter referred to on p. 246 note, he calls it "religious education," but it is clear that he did not intend the expression in its usual sense.

[41] Mazzini's views are perhaps most clearly stated in his speech to the Roman Assembly of March 9, 1849 (before he became Triumvir). See also Scritti editi e inediti, XVI. 14. In the second and perhaps the first of these passages popolo seems used as equivalent to parliament. In the second, governo is obviously not the executive. See also above, p. 247.

[42] He was once arguing with Sir James Stansfeld as to the possibility of communism. Stansfeld said, "Why should not all property be vested in society?" Mazzini replied, "Because that is nonsense. Society abstractedly is nothing, really a collection of individuals. Individuals do the work, therefore individuals get the property; they may give it away if they like, but the right to it is in themselves." The spirit of the argument is curiously inconsistent with his usual position.

[43] The first address of the People's International League, from which these words are quoted, was written by W. J. Linton, but was based on Mazzini's rough draft.

[44] M. Novicow in his Missione d'Italia has recently expressed the same belief, almost in Mazzini's words. [But the Tripoli business has changed all this.—1911.]

[45] Cf. Richard Wagner's Prose Works (Eng. trans.), pp. 122-123.

[46] Mazzini's Philosophy of Music was written in 1836; Wagner's Artwork of the Future in 1849.

[47] This is inaccurate. See Linaker, Vita di Enrico Mayer, I. 124-125.

[48] From Byron's Journal.

[49] See above, p. 168.

[50] Query. The word was illegible in the original.

[51] See above, p. 186.

[52] A favourite expression of Mazzini, as the equivalent of quaggiù.

[53] The Gladstone Ministry of December 1868.

[54] Mrs. Stansfeld.
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