berg. The very gentlest heart cannot, on reading these, prevent itself from feeling an emotion of hatred and vengeance against Austria. When the prisons of the Italian captives at length opened, their confessions testified before the world, of the sacred fire which burned and long had burned,—but as if under the earth,—in the heart of the Italian youth, for Italy's freedom and independence. They testified of that which secret societies and unions have labored for in Italy since the conclusion of the last century. They testified of this also,—that what the young patriots desired, was not alone the liberation of Italy from foreign domination. They dreamed of the unity of Italy, and of an ideal of its life, which they were not yet able clearly to comprehend, nor yet to give form or name to, but which caused their hearts to throb with noble desire. It was the attempt at revolution in Piedmont and Lombardy, in the year 1821, which first revealed the secret, holy fire. Austria soon quelled the outbreak. Its originators were executed, exiled, or confined in dark prisons. Amongst these last, was the gentle, laurel-crowned young poet of Francesça di Rimini,—Silvio Pelico.
Two young men were participators in this revolutionary attempt, who were later, with very dissimilar gifts and means, in very dissimilar ways, to co-operate in the continuation of the then unsuccessful and little-understood work of liberation. These were the priest Vincinzo Gioberti, and the Prince of Savoy-Carignan, Carlo Alberto. Both were Piedmontese. I shall here mention particularly these two, because, of all their cotemporaries, they have had the greatest
