There have been many conspirators, but Mazzini appears to have been the greatest of them all. In one sense, every leader of a forlorn hope is a conspirator. Prevision, calculation of resources, plans of campaign—mostly of an underground kind—are necessary to conspiracy. The struggles of Garrison and Wendell Phillips for the rescue and sustentation of fugitive slaves are well-known instances of underground conspiracy. There the violence of the slave-owner made conspiracy inevitable. In despotic countries, without a free platform and a free press, the choice lies between secret conspiracy and slavery. When Mazzini began to seek the deliverance of Italy he had to confront 600,000 Austrian bayonets. How else could he do it than by conspiracy? Those are very much mistaken who think that the occupation of promoting or taking part in a forlorn hope is a pastime to which persons disinclined to business or honest industry, betake themselves. The spy, for instance, who is a well-known instrument in war, takes the heroism out of it. The sinister activity of the spy turns the soldier into a sneak. Honourable men do, indeed, persuade themselves that if by deceit they can obtain knowledge of facts which may save the lives of many on their own side, it is right. At the same time they also betray to death many on the other side, including some who have trusted the spy in his disguise. But whatever success may attend the deceit of the spy, he can never divest himself of the character of being a fraud; and a fraud in war is only a little less base than a fraud in business. But it is the perils of even the patriotic spy, which are so often under-estimated. If discovered by the enemy, he is sure to be shot; and he runs the risk of being killed on suspicion by friends on his own side—too indignant to inquire into the nature of the suspicions they entertain. The spy dare not communicate the business he is upon to his friends. Somehow it would get out; then the spy would surely walk the plank, or hang from the gallows as Andre did. The spy's own friends being ignorant of the secret duty he has undertaken, observe him making the acquaintance of the enemy—hear of him being seen in communication with them—and he becomes distrusted and disowned by those whom he perils his life to serve. Mazzini detested the Cabinets, or the Generals, who employed spies. He made war by secrecy—open war being impossible to him—but never by treachery. Some who had suffered and were incensed by personal outrage or maddening oppression, would act as spies in revenge. Because these were done on the side of Italian independence, Mazzini was accused of inspiring them and employing them.
Mazzini had another difficulty. Like Cromwell, he sought his combatants among men of faith. Mazzini was, as has been said, a Theist, like Thomas Paine, or Theodore Parker, or Francis William Newman, he was that and nothing more; and, as with them, his belief was passionate. He did not believe that political enthusiasm could be created or sustained without belief in God. He seemed unable to conceive that a sense of duty could exist separately from that belief. Hence his motto always was "God and the People," which limited his adherents largely to Theists, and implied a propaganda to convert persons to a belief in Deity, before they could, in his opinion, be counted upon to fight for Italian independence. Yet there were contradictions; but contradictions seldom disturb passionate convictions, and Mazzini himself could not deny that he had often been faithfully served by men who were not at all sure that God would fight on their side, if disaster overtook them. One night at a crowded Fulham party Mazzini was contending, as was his wont, that an Atheist could not have a sense of duty. Garibaldi, who was present, at once asked, "What do you say to me? I am an Atheist. Do I lack the sense of duty?"
"Ah," said Mazzini, playfully, "you imbibed duty with your mother's milk"—which was not an answer, but a good-natured evasion. Garibaldi was not a philosophical Atheist, but he was a fierce sentimental one, from resentment at the cruelties and tyrannies of priests who professed to represent God. To disbelieve unwillingly from lack of evidence, and to disbelieve from natural indignation is a very different thing.
All the many years Mazzini was in London, Madame Venturi was constantly in communication with him, and was present at more conversations than any one else. Had she possessed the genius of Boswell, and put down day by day criticisms she heard expressed, the narratives of his extraordinary adventures, and such as came to her knowledge from correspondence, now no longer recoverable, we might have had as wonderful a volume of political and ethical judgment as was Boswell's "Johnson." Sometimes I expressed a hope that she was doing this. Nevertheless, we are indebted to her for the best biography of him that appeared in her time. I add a few sayings of his which show the quality of his table talk:—
"Falsehood is the art of cowards. Credulity without examination is the practice of idiots."
"Any order of things established through violence, even though in itself superior to the old, is still a tyranny."
"Blind distrust, like blind confidence, is death to all great enterprises."
"In morals, thought and action should be inseparable. Thought without action is selfishness; action without thought is rashness."
"The curse of Cain is upon him who does not regard himself as the guardian of his brother."
"Education is the bread of the soul."
"Art does not imitate, it interprets."
Only those who were in the agitation for Italian freedom can understand the exhausting amount of labour performed by those who were adherents or sympathisers. How much greater was the labour of the commander of the movement, who had to create the departments he administered, to provide the funds for them, to win and inspire its adherents, and correspond incessantly with agents scattered over Europe and America, and to vindicate himself against false accusations rained upon him by a hostile, ubiquitous European press.
Orsini was a man of invincible courage, and could be trusted to execute any commission given him. No danger deterred him, but in enterprises requiring prevision of contingencies, he was inadequate. Mazzini thought so; and Orsini secretly contrived to plot against the French usurper, to extort from Mazzini the confession that he (Orsini) could carry out an independent enterprise. All the same, the adversaries of Italian freedom made Mazzini responsible for it.
A writer in the press, who did not give his name (and when a writer does not do that, he can say anything), published, in editorial type, this passage: "By the way, I remember that Orsini, the day before he left England to make his attempt upon the life of Napoleon III., had a solemn discussion with Joseph Cowen and Mazzini, as to the justice of tyrannicide." Mazzini being then dead, I sent the paragraph to Mr. Cowen and asked him if there was any truth in it, who replied:—
"Blaydon-on-Tyne, March 2, 1891.
"My dear Holyoake,—I have no idea where the writer of the enclosed paragraph gets his information. I cannot speak as to Orsini having a conversation with Mazzini, but I should think it is in the highest sense improbable, because long before Orsini went to France, Mazzini and he had not been in friendly intercourse. There was a difference between them which kept them apart. I had repeated conversations with Orsini about tyrannicide—a matter in which he seemed interested—but I did not see him for some weeks before he went to France.
"Yours truly,
"Joseph Cowen."
Mazzini always repudiated the dagger as a political weapon. It answered the purpose of his adversaries in his day and since, to accuse him of advocating it. He pointed out that calumny was a dagger used to assassinate character, but to that form of assassination few politicians made objection. Sometimes partisans of Mazzini would supply a colourable presumption of the truth of this accusation.
A circumstantial story appeared in the "Life of Charles Bradlaugh" (vol. i. p. 69), signed W. E. Adams, as follows:—
"The year 1858 was the year of Felice Orsinis attempt on the life of Louis Napoleon. I was at that time, and had been for years previously, a member of the Republican Association, which was formed to propagate the principles of Mazzini. When the press, from one end of the country to the other, joined in a chorus of condemnation of Orsini, I put down on paper some of the arguments and considerations which I thought told on Orsini's side. The essay thus was read at a m............