imo d'Azeglio, who was then known only as a painter of talent and
a writer of historical novels, first made his mark as a politician by
the pamphlet entitled _Gli ultimi casi di Romagna_, in which his
arguments derived force from the fact that, when travelling in the
district, he had done all in his power to induce the Liberals to keep
within the bounds of legality. But he confessed that, when someone
says: 'I suffer too much,' it is an unsatisfactory answer to retort:
'You have not suffered enough.' Massimo d'Azeglio had lived for many
years an artist's life in Rome and the country round, where his
aristocratic birth and handsome face made him popular with all
classes. The transparent integrity of his nature overcame the
diffidence usually inspired by strangers among a somewhat suspicious
people, and he got to know more thoroughly than any other North
Italian the real aspirations of the Pope's subjects. He listened to
their complaints and their plans, and if they asked his advice, he
invariably replied: 'Let us speak clearly. What is it that you wish
and I with you? You wish to have done with priestly rule, and to send
the Teutons out of Italy? If you invite them to decamp, they will
probably say, "No, thank you!" Therefore you must use force; and where
is it to be had? If you have not got it, you must find somebody who
has. In Italy who has it, or, to speak more precisely, who has a
little of it? Piedmont, because it, at least, enjoys an independent
life, and possesses an army and a surplus in the treasury.' His
friends answered: 'What of Charles Albert, of 1821, of 1832?' Now,
there was no one who felt less trust in Charles Albert than Massimo
d'Azeglio; he admitted it with something like remorse in later years.
But he believed in his ambition, and he thought it madness to throw
away what he regarded as the sole chance of freeing Italy on account
of private doubts of the King of Sardinia's sincerity.

Charles Albert had reigned for fourteen years, and still the mystery
which surrounded his character formed as impenetrable a veil as ever.
The popular nickname of _Re Tentenna_ (King Waverer) seemed, in a
sense, accepted by him when he said to the Duke d'Aumale in 1843: 'I
am between the dagger of the Carbonari and the chocolate of the
Jesuits.' He chose, as bride for his eldest son, an Austrian princess,
who, however, had known no country but Italy. His internal policy was
not simply stationary, it was retrograde. If h