d been bred a soldier.
At Alessandria the station was sheltering from the rain several thousand soldiers, and the train as it entered seemed to penetrate the living mass, and yet all was order and tranquillity.
At Turin he had an interview with Cavour, then the first statesman of Europe; and in that city he made the acquaintance, by Miss Weston's introduction, of two Italian ladies distinguished alike for intellectual gifts and patriotism,—Madame Arconati and Madame de Collegno,
M. de Colles the coup detat,—these and other things conspire for the moment to keep him faithful to the idea of Italian independence.
But this is a great moment in history,—nothing like it since 1815.
To W. W. Story:—
Let me say that a note which Cavour wrote me in French was written in the clear round hand of his country,—so different from the French, which is small and flowing, like their language.
This national peculiarity of handwriting is curious to observe, particularly in its relation