The favourite charge of the press against the great conspirator was that he advised others to incur danger, and kept out of it himself. This was entirely untrue--but it did not prevent it being said. The principle these critics go upon is, that whoever is capable of advising and directing others, should do all he can to get himself shot--a doctrine which would rid the army of all its generals, and the offices of all newspapers of their editors. Upon Mazzini's life the success of twenty small cohorts of patriots depended, ready to give their lives for Italy. Mazzini was not only the commander of the army of Liberation, but, as has been indicated, the provider of its reserves, its commissariat and recruits. His life was also of priceless value to other struggling peoples. He was the one statesman in Europe who had a European mind--who knew the peoples of the Continent, whose knowledge was intimate, and whose word could be trusted. So far from avoiding danger, he was never out of it. With a price set upon his head in three countries, hunted by seven Governments, with spies always following him and by assassins lying in ambush, his life for forty years passed in more peril than any other public man of his time. Yet it was fashionable to charge him with want of courage whose whole "life," to use his own phrase, "was a battle and a march." Could there be a doubt of the intrepidity of a man who, with the slender forces of insurgent patriots, confronted Austria with its 600,000 bayonets. No sooner was Garibaldi in Rome than Mazzini was there in the streets inspiring its defenders. What dangers he passed through to reach Rome, knowing well that his arrest meant death! Rome was not a safe place for Mazzini, neither was London. His life was never safe. I have been asked by his host to walk home with him at night from a London suburban villa where he dined, because a Royalist assassin was known to be in London waiting to kill him. Mazzini died at Pisa, March 10, 1872, from chill by walking over the Alps in inclement weather, intending to visit his English friends once more. A few of his English colleagues protested against his embalmment. I was not one. Gorini, the greatest of his profession, undertook to transform the body into marble, and for him Mazzini had friendship. Dr. Bertani, Mazzini's favourite physician, approved embalming. It could not be done by more reverent hands. How could England--who disembowelled Nelson and sent his body home in a cask of rum; who embalmed Jeremy Bentham, and took out O'Connell's heart, sent it to one city, and his mutilated remains to another--reproach Italy for observing the national rites of their illustrious dead? The personal character of Mazzini never needed defence. In private life and state affairs, honour was to him an instinct. He saw the path of right with clear eyes. No advantage induced him to deviate from it. No danger prevented his walking in it.