“My instinct would certainly be to fight, whether fighting were of any use or not.  But the propriety of fighting in such a case is a very nice question of judgment.  So long as there is anything to fight for, no matter how hopeless the odds, a gentleman should go to the front—­but no longer.  The question must be to decide the precise point at which the position becomes untenable.  So long as France makes our quarrels hers, every man should give his personal assistance to the cause; but it is absurd to suppose that if we were left alone, a handful of Romans against a great Power, we could do more, or should do more, than make a formal show of resistance.  It has been a rule in all ages that a general, however brave, who sacrifices the lives of his soldiers in a perfectly hopeless resistance, rather than accept the terms of an honourable capitulation, is guilty of a military crime.”

“In other words,” answered Del Ferice, quietly, “if the French troops were withdrawn, and the Italians were besieging Rome, you would at once capitulate?”

“Certainly—­after making a formal protest.  It would be criminal to sacrifice our fellow-citizens’ lives in such a case.”

“And then?”

“Then, as I said before, I would make the best of it—­not omitting to congratulate Del Ferice upon obtaining a post in the new Government,” added Giovanni, with a laugh.

But Del Ferice took no notice of the jest.

“Do you not think that, aside from any question of sympathy or loyalty to the holy Father, the change of government would be an immense advantage to Rome?”

“No, I do not.  To Italy the advantage would be inestimable; to Rome it would be an injury.  Italy would consolidate the prestige she began to acquire when Cavour succeeded in sending a handful of troops to the Crimea eleven years ago; she would at once take a high position as a European Power—­provided always that the smouldering republican element should not break out in opposition to the constitutional monarchy.  But Rome would be ruined.  She is no longer the geographical capital of Italy—­she is not even the largest city; but in the course of a few years, violent efforts would be made to give her a fictitious modern grandeur, in the place of the moral importance she now enjoys as the headquarters of the Catholic world.  Those efforts at a spurious growth would ruin her financially, and the hatred of Romans for Italians of the north would cause endless internal dissension.  We should be subjected to a system of taxation which would fall more heavily on us than on other Italians, in proportion as our land is less productive.  On the whole, we should grow rapidly poorer; for prices would rise, and we should have a paper currency instead of a metallic one.  Especially we landed proprietors would suffer terribly by the Italian land system being suddenly thrust upon us.  To be obliged to sell one’s acres to any peasant who can scrape together enough to capitalise the pittance