any approach to certainty, the vagaries of imprudence? Not so long ago, we were all saying that the late Czar Nicholas would never be mad enough to cross the Pruth. He crossed it, however, and the penalty was the forfeiture of his own life, and a check in the development of civilisation in Russia, which will scarcely be repaired in the lifetime of this generation. Again, we were all saying that the Austrians would never provoke a conflict with the French armies. Magenta and Solferino were the illustrations of that prophecy. Matters are still more desperate now than they were two years ago. The whole Peninsula, up to the Venetian frontier, is in the hands of the Italians—save the Patrimony of St. Peter, which is a sort of French garrison. The discontent in the Austrian Provinces—especially in Hungary—has risen to a point which no longer admits of misunderstanding or concealment. The situation is desperate—but Despair is not always the safest Privy Councillor. There is not an Austrian statesman of much account; not even a man of the mark of Felix Schwarzenburgh; and a true statesman is much needed in Austria just now.
Let us not, in our just antipathy to the cruelties and abominations of Austrian rule in Italy, ever lose sight of the fact that the existence of a powerful military monarchy in the south-east of Europe has been found throughout historical ages necessary to our own security. What may be the political action of this new Italian kingdom, we know not as yet. That it will be for good, we hope, and believe—but we are standing upon the brink of an untried future. That old Eastern enigma still remains unsolved at Constantinople. It is not too much to say that the very greatest uneasiness is felt among English statesmen upon this point. The extinction of the military power of Austria, and the consequent French monopoly of military power for aggressive purposes on the Continent of Europe, would scarcely be a result which Englishmen could see with satisfaction. The Turkish Empire—do what we will—is crumbling and decaying before our eyes; and in all probability men now in the prime of life will live to see a solution of the question.
With the history of Europe behind us from the days of Henri IV. to the days of Louis Napoleon, one would scarcely wish to see so vast a preponderance of military power in the hands of Frenchmen as would certainly follow from the destruction of the Austrian Empire. If Francis Joseph could be induced to part with Venetia by way of sale, and to govern his Empire, especially Hungary, in a constitutional way, what a glorious future might still lie before the Hapsburgs! As the great Danubian Power, Austria would be a far more important member of the European Confederation than she has ever yet been: and destinies might yet await her in the East, which would place her in a position which she could never have achieved as the unreasoning task-mistress of unfortunate Italy.
In the absence of any great political events during the Last Week, our space may fairly be devoted to speculations on the future. Now a suggestion has been set afloat in Paris, and has received a certain amount of discussion during the last seven days, which, if there be any kind of truth in it, may grow into the most important event of our time. We all know pretty well the system upon which Louis Napoleon is in the habit of bringing his schemes before the world. The rudimentary element out of which a Russian War or an Italian campaign grows, is a suggestion in a French newspaper. The idea contained in this suggestion is either destroyed, or allowed to drop, according to the effect which it is found to produce upon the minds of the French nation. The suggestion put forth in one newspaper is contradicted in another—a discussion follows, and if it be found peculiarly unpalatable, in due course a contradiction is put forth in the “Moniteur,” and there for a time is an end of the matter. Supposing, however, that affairs take a different turn when the journalist once tosses the shuttlecock up in the air, a band of pamphleteers are appointed to keep it up, and should their endeavours, too, be crowned with success, in due course the French People are allowed to obtain an inkling of the Napoleonian idea upon the subject. Now the shuttlecock of Last Week is nothing more nor less than a suggestion that Louis Napoleon, after the lapse of somewhat more than three centuries, should follow in the steps of our own Henry VIII., and declare himself to be the head of the Church in France—as Queen Victoria is the head of the Church in England. Of course, at this preliminary stage, the suggestion leaves to the Pope all supremacy in matters of faith; but in such a matter as this, the first step is everything; and the higher French clergy, acting under the auspices of the Emperor, would soon become the arbiters of the national faith of France. The attempt is a bold one, and would certainly conciliate to the Emperor the sympathies of the vast bulk of the English nation. What are the chances of success? There can be no doubt that at the present moment the Pope, and the Papal Court, are profoundly discredited throughout Europe.
In the Italian peninsula itself, Pio Nono is looked upon as one of the two great remaining obstacles to the independence of the country. A similar result has been produced by the Concordat in Austria. The amount of exasperation against the influence of the priesthood in all the daily affairs of life, can scarcely be credited by any but those who have mixed familiarly with the peasantry of Austria. On the Danube banks your ears are stuffed with stories—no doubt many of them grievously exaggerated—such as those which animated Luther to his great attack upon the Papal power. These are at least evidence of the animosity entertained by the people against the priests. In France itself Louis Napoleon has been dealing of late in a very high-handed way with the upper and Ultramontane clergy. He has signalised the protests of some of the bishops as treason against the French nation and his own government. He has suppressed the journal which was emphatically the organ of the party. He has sternly forbidden any organised collections for the benefit of the Holy Father, who is now somewhat hardly pressed under the head of Ways and Means. It may be observed, parenthetically, that