MY MISSION.

Meditating on the events that had taken place at Malta, I was compelled to acknowledge that the method which I had deemed the best to evangelize Italy, viz. a Missionary College, was not the way that Providence had appointed. In fact, instead of proving an advantage, it turned out to be a complete obstacle to my success, and gave occasion to so much injurious discussion that at length I began thoroughly to be disgusted with it.

I moreover felt a conviction that the mission which I had confided to others would be carried out better by one person alone; at least, that I ought at all events to begin it by myself. Having entertained this idea, and becoming more and more satisfied of its propriety, the next consideration was, where and in what manner my operations should take place.

It was about the end of the year 1848, whilst I was still in London, doubtful whether or not I should return to Italy, when another thought came into my mind, as to the expediency of my first making a voyage to the United States. In the midst of this uncertainty the news arrived that Pope Pius IX. had fled from Rome. This intelligence, which to some occasioned grief and consternation, and to others equal joy and satisfaction, particularly struck me, not so much as a matter of surprise and wonder, but as involving in it the most important consequences.

"So," I exclaimed within myself, "the Pope has fled from Rome—has abandoned the government of his States! The Constitutional Pope has lost his kingdom, he has fallen from his assumed eminence. He is no longer popular, the Romans have ceased to love or to esteem him! he has given them frequent cause of offence, and, on the sixteenth of November, he completed his work of provocation. The Romans are not to be despised—their anger is terrible: in the same degree that they formerly loved, they now abhor the Pontiff! I see him dethroned! He has fled, only to work greater evil; his flight is to betray his people! But he will never return! Woe to him if he should attempt it!"

These ideas continued to haunt my mind; I carefully examined and weighed them over, and discerned a connexion between a political event which was known to everybody, and a religious one which was apparent to myself alone. The times were serious; they occasioned me to fall into a profound meditation, and led me to offer up more fervent prayers to the Lord.

I went about consulting my friends, and amongst others, one whom I hold in the highest esteem and regard, Sir Culling Eardley Eardley. I passed a day with him at his seat, Belvedere, near Erith. We were both silent some minutes, considering whether it would be prudent for me to go to Rome.

"Oh! yes," I exclaimed at last, "the present is the very moment when it would be best for me to go among my brethren, in my native land, to speak of Him who is 'the first-born among many brethren.'[101] The hour is propitious, and I hope I may not lose it; the utmost of my desire is that the door should be opened for me to enter."

"But do you not think," suggested Sir Culling, "that your life might be endangered? You know how incensed those priests are against you! If they lay hold of you!——"

"Oh! fear them not; I do not believe that they have any longer the means to injure me. The Pope has already lost all moral power in Rome, and he will soon lose his physical power also. Whatever happens, I believe I shall be protected by the Almighty; He has protected me hitherto, and will doubtless continue to do so, more especially when I am exposed to danger in His service."

"Are you of opinion that your presence in Rome will be useful to the cause of the Gospel? and that the Romans, in the midst of their present political struggle, will find time to turn their attention to matters of Religion? Do you suppose that now, when every one is vociferating for civil liberty, they would listen with complacency to a person who should talk to them of religious liberty, of spiritual liberty, of the liberty of the children of God?"

"Without a doubt I do; I understand the Roman character better than any one, and I feel confident that even in the midst of their political agitation, they would be interested in religious concerns; and the more so when they were made to understand that the religion which their priests had taught them was a false one. Among the numerous doctrines that their Church professes, several are not believed by many persons; but it is through instinct and natural good sense that they refuse to accept them, and not from having proved them to be false. No one has hitherto been allowed to instruct the people, or to give them any books that treat of religious subjects in their proper point of view; and more especially is it forbidden to put the Bible into their hands. Now, what would happen if the Romans heard one of their fellow-citizens speaking to them the language of truth, in opposition to the teaching of the priests?—speaking it with the Bible in his hand; and that Bible, moreover, in their mother tongue; and handed over to them, that they might read it themselves, and teach their children to do so, and by it to reform both their faith and morals? Yes! my Romans would be delighted, at the present juncture, to listen to what they have so often desired to hear, and what no one has hitherto been allowed to explain to them. I am perfectly aware that zeal ought to be guided by prudence; I shall therefore not go and declaim abroad, in the piazzas, but shall rather endeavour to find my way into the houses; and before I hold forth in public, I shall commune with individuals in private. I shall, in fact, make to every one I can a personal appeal. It was so that the primitive Church was formed by its Divine Head. The Lord, then, shall be my guide in all that I do."

"Well, then," observed my friend after a pause, "in order to obtain that guidance, it must be the subject of prayer." Upon which we both knelt down, and as the Spirit dictated I besought the Lord to guide us in our proposed work, according as seemed best to His gracious pleasure. My friend also preferred his supplication that the desire which influenced our minds, and the love which inspired our hearts to convey the truths of the Gospel to our brethren, might be graciously strengthened by His Divine assistance; that the doors might be opened, and the paths prepared to facilitate our undertaking.

We both derived comfort from our prayers; and we felt it to be the will of Heaven that I should go to Rome. I made some further remarks on the subject; and particularly that I considered it to be a providential circumstance that I was not impeded by any engagement with the Malta College, but was free in every respect. I remarked too that my mission was not from men, but from God alone; and consequently, that I depended solely on Him, to whom all obedience and glory is due.

These were not, however, the only supplications that were at that time offered up in behalf of my success. I requested of my brethren of the Evangelical Alliance the benefit of their prayers also, that I might be directed by the Lord in my difficult task; and I was sure they would be fervently made, so that I felt myself sufficiently encouraged, and was full of ardour to commence my work.

In the meanwhile the news from Rome became every day more and more important; since after the flight of the Pope, and after he had refused to receive the embassy from the Senate and the People, who solicited his return, the public feeling against the Papal Court every day continued to increase, as well as their dislike to whatever savoured of the priesthood. Every one delivered his free opinion on passing events; the Roman journals were loud in their denunciations: everything prognosticated the destruction of the Papal government, and with it that the Church,—that hypocritical and tyrannical Church,—would cease to torment the people, and thus the greatest obstacle to their liberty would be removed.

I set out from London on the 8th of January, 1849. I passed through France, recommending the true welfare of Italy to the prayers of our brethren. I took the road through Genoa and Tuscany. The defeat of Charles Albert had thrown a gloom over men's minds; they deplored the sacrifice of so many noble youths in the plains of Lombardy, without any advantage to their country. Nevertheless, the grief they experienced in nowise diminished their courage, or lessened their ardour to engage afresh in their glorious attempt to drive the Austrian out of the land, and liberate the country from a foreign yoke.

I, as a good citizen, felt a lively interest in everything that was going on, and participated in the hopes and fears of these brave people. I often entered into political discussions with them, but it was always with the purpose of introducing religious remarks, which gradually gave a tone to our whole conversation without their being themselves aware of it. I had some pocket Bibles and Testaments with me, and occasionally produced one, to give a text in the original words; it generally happened that others also were desirous of looking into the book, and it usually ended in my presenting them with a copy.

At Leghorn I supplied myself with a large quantity of Italian Bibles, which I carried with me to Rome. As at the time of my landing at Civita Vecchia the Pontificial Government still nominally existed, the officers of the Custom-House, before they allowed me to set off for the capital, were desirous to inspect my books.

"Two cases of books!" exclaimed they.

"Well," said I to them, "I will tell you what the cases contain. They are all copies of one single book, and which book I maintain it is not necessary to subject to inspection. To whom, pray, would you submit it for that purpose? To the head of the Inquisition? Understand then that the book which I take to Rome is the Bible, the true Bible. Do you suppose that the Bible would be objected to by the Inquisition?"

"If it be actually the true Bible," returned one of the officers, "I should say it would not."

"But if it be not the true one?" suggested another.

"I can assure you it is," I rejoined, "you may, indeed, yourselves readily imagine, that an ardent lover of his country, as I am, would never introduce a false one into Rome."

"Can we see it?" asked a third.

"Without doubt," I replied; and opening one of the cases, I handed four Bibles to them, which was one apiece; "will you allow me, gentlemen, to present each of you with a copy? it will serve as a remembrance."

Great was the satisfaction of the whole party on the unexpected acquisition. They could not sufficiently admire the gift, and thank me for it. I had myself already inwardly returned thanks to God, who had granted me to enter into my native country under such favourable auspices.

I arrived at Rome on the evening of the 2d of February. The coach stopped as usual at the Porta Cavalleggeri, under the lofty walls of the Inquisition.[102] I raised my eyes to survey the massive boundary that was erected to shut out the Holy Office from the profane gaze of the passer-by. Alas, what horrors have been enacted within its circuit! What direful prisons exist around the grand hall of the tribunal! Some immediately under the roof of the building, exposed to the suffocating heat of summer, which renders them almost as close and unendurable as a furnace; others, which are excessively cold in the winter, on the basement, and into them the water filters from the adjacent grounds, and occasions a perpetual humidity. The dungeons are deep underground, like burial vaults, and in the middle of them is a cemetery, for the bodies of such as have been put to death within the walls. These wretched places have only been discovered recently, and were laid open to the inspection of the people during the time of the Republic.

In the midst of the court-yard rises the vast edifice where the cardinals meet at stated periods, (besides their weekly sittings at the Minerva,) and the councillors every Monday prepare the decisions. In the same building are the grand Archive Chamber, over the door of which is written "Scommunicato È chi entra," the Chancery the Secretary's Office, and the secret Printing Office: the various apartments for the different offices attached to the establishment, as well as for the servants, the officials, and the gaolers: the places of punishment also, where in former times the unfortunates under accusation were tortured in various ways, by the cord, by fire, by boiling water, and other atrocious inventions, which it would be too painful to describe.

These places now present a different aspect, and appear to be appropriated to other purposes; so that it might hardly be discovered that they had originally served for chambers of torture, were it not that here and there an iron ring affixed to the wall, and other indications of that sort, afford too sure evidence as to their former uses.

This little description has arisen in my mind on having occasion to speak of the locality: as I have before said, all was concealed at that time behind lofty walls, but I was well acquainted with the precincts. I remembered my own imprisonment, when, more than for myself, I grieved for so many other victims sacrificed in that abode by superstition, by fanaticism, and not unfrequently by private vengeance.

In the midst of these melancholy recollections, I felt grateful that I was permitted to revisit my beloved country, to which I was returning, not from any motives of earthly interest, but from a sincere love for higher and heavenly considerations. I was not the bearer of gold, or of other worldly treasure, but of a treasure infinitely more valuable. I felt a pride in entering into Rome laden with Bibles; and it appeared to me as a dream, that I was permitted to do so, without any one presuming to interfere with me. I subsequently ordered another package to be forwarded, not only to myself, but also to other brethren, who were associated with me in the same good work. In the meanwhile, an extensive edition of Diodati's New Testament was published at Rome. The Bible, therefore, it might now be said, had entered and taken peaceable possession of the city, and was distributed among the citizens.

I had always admired the Roman people, so ready to receive the truth when it was pointed out to them. Whoever asserts that they are a prejudiced race, does not sufficiently reflect on their shackled condition; it is to their teachers we must look.

The Romans are papists through necessity, since they are never permitted to listen to any others than their popish priests, or to open a book which is not of papistic tendency. To be judged candidly, they should first receive, as other nations do, a liberal education. I am convinced that their natural good sense is such, that if the truths of Christianity were once fairly laid before them, they would accept them readily. Still it is not the work of a moment, and a fit time is required to unfold them.

It is not to be questioned that the first half of the year 1849 was for Rome a time of liberty, but it was also a time of agitation. A new order of things engaged the attention of all classes; and the minds of all ranks of persons were in a state of commotion, divided between hope and fear. The subject of all their conversation, the primary object of all their thoughts, were public affairs, political measures, and the existence of civil rights. Threatened on all sides from the earliest period, they knew that without a special Providence their Republic could not continue to exist; in such a precarious state of affairs, the majority dared not compromise themselves with the priests; certain of a reaction from the papal government, on the first opportunity. They were aware that of all the dangers they had to dread, the most fatal one was to be suspected of heretical tendencies.

In Rome, the Bible itself is heresy, as the priests assert it is from it that all heresy proceeds. Therefore, a man who studies it, is suspected of doing so, in order to find a pretext to separate himself from the Romish Church; so general is the idea that the sacred Scriptures and the papal Church are not in agreement. The suspicion is increased, if the version consulted be one of those that are prohibited in Rome. Among all the Italian translations, the most odious, and most proscribed by the priests, is the famous one of Diodati, which that learned and holy man brought out in Geneva, about the end of the sixteenth century. Admirable as it is, and the most correct according to the Hebrew and the Greek, its text might serve as a standard for others. A few years ago this Bible was scarcely known in Italy, even by name; in order to obtain a copy, it was necessary to apply to some Englishman, who could himself only introduce it secretly; and woe to him in whose possession it might afterwards be found!

What then were the grand fears respecting this book? That whoever read it was certain to have his mind alienated from the Church of Rome. A higher eulogium could scarcely be bestowed upon it. Its extraordinary fidelity and extreme perspicuity, notwithstanding the difficulty of rendering perfectly one language into another, will always render it a work of the greatest use.

In distributing this Bible I was accustomed to dwell on its value, to those who were not already acquainted with it, and also to explain the mode of reading so as to understand it. The chief rule is that the Bible can never contradict itself: obscure passages should be explained by others more clear. "The Bible explains the Bible," is the canon of St. Augustine. It is not true that the Fathers are necessary to interpret it; they may sometimes be useful, but more frequently they do harm, since each of them has a different system.

The Church of Rome orders the study of the Fathers in preference to that of the Scriptures; and this she does because in the diversity of their opinions the reader becomes bewildered, and is obliged to have recourse to her for explanation. The grand maxim of the Church, that no private man can be a judge of the Holy Scriptures, is true in one sense; no private individual can impose his own understanding of the Holy Word upon another person; it being revealed to every one for his own especial good. He may, for the edification of others, reveal the fruits of his own experience; but no man can be the spiritual master over another. We have one only spiritual Master, and that is our Lord Jesus Christ. This observation applies to all persons, even to the Pope himself; who, if he be a sincere believer, and an intellectual man, may comprehend the Word of God, as any other sincere believer and intellectual man, whether priest or layman, may comprehend it: if, on the contrary, he be ignorant and stupid, he is not more capable of comprehending it than any other person of the same description. The privileges of the Popes are as unfounded as their pretensions.

Among intelligent people—and there are such in the Church of Rome—one of the chief objections against studying the Scriptures is an idea of their wanting perspicuity. I was asked by one person how it was possible for him to understand so obscure a work. "Why not?" I replied; "are not you as good a judge as the Pope? Nay, if you are a believer, and he is not, you are in that case a better judge than he can be."

"But to understand the Scriptures in a proper manner, it is necessary to read the Fathers!"

"And who has told you so? Doubtless persons who wish to discourage you; since it requires no little resolution to undertake the reading of the Fathers,—a series of more than forty volumes in folio!! No, no, read your Bible, and never trouble your head about the Fathers."

Every day I was thus occupied in conversing about the Scriptures. At first I sought out for persons to introduce the subject to: in a little time I was myself sought out by them. My house became a general rendezvous, and it frequently happened that from morning till night I had not a moment to myself; so many persons were calling on me, either to ask for Bibles, or to discourse with me on what they had already been reading. Many whom I had never seen before came and introduced themselves to me, requesting a Bible, and several repeated to me the very topics I had argued with others; which showed me how widely the truth might be spread through mutual communication. I had at that time but few of the female sex among my converts; I have however been informed that many have since received the truth from their husbands, their fathers, or their brothers.

Besides the Bible, I circulated a few tracts which I had written expressly for the purpose; and I also availed myself of those I had published at Malta, and in Tuscany, through the medium of friends. The most acceptable of all these was that "On the benefit resulting from the death of Christ," by Aonio Paleario; published at Siena, in 1543. This valuable little book, which treats expressly on our justification by faith, and is, in my opinion, the best explanation of the two Epistles of Paul to the Romans and the Galatians that I have yet seen, was so vigorously sought out, and destroyed by the Romish Church, that of fifty thousand copies that were printed during the Author's lifetime, it would scarcely be possible at the present moment to find even a single one in existence; and I myself owe the restoration of it to accidentally discovering an old translation of it in English, in my first visit to London in 1847, which I retranslated into the original Italian. The Author was burnt by the Inquisition, on account of this work, along with the renowned Pietro Carnesecchi, a most learned and pious prelate; and Cardinal Moroni, after a wearisome imprisonment, narrowly escaped a similar fate. His offence, as well as Carnesecchi's, was having put this little treatise of Paleario's into circulation.

Two extensive editions of my translation were published in Florence, and of these I distributed many copies among my friends in Rome.[103]

The experience I had gained in these matters taught me that the present moment was a favourable one to sow, to plant, and to graft; and that we might hope our labours would be visited and nourished by the sun and the rain from heaven. We are indeed assured that when the seed is thrown into good ground, in the vineyard of Christ, it not only takes root and flourishes, but also bears fruit. It is true that the wild boar of the forest has since entered in, and with his savage tusks rooted up, wasted, and destroyed; but a portion of the seed yet remains in the ground, and in due time, with the blessing of heaven, will not fail to bring forth good fruit.

It was my constant endeavour to avail myself of every opportunity to lead the conversation to religious subjects: not a day passed without making some progress, and in all places I kept my object in view. Sometimes a discussion took place in a friend's house, and frequently in shops and other places of business; and as it is customary in Italy, as in France, for the most respectable people to frequent CafÉs, both morning and evening, I did not neglect to visit them likewise, in the hope of meeting some to whom my discourse might be acceptable. The few good and faithful friends who laboured in the same cause acted as I did, and gave a tone to the conversation in these places, as well as in the clubs and other places of public resort.

Sometimes when we had got a few persons together, we repaired to one of the halls of the Campidoglio, or to the ruins of the Coliseum. In the latter place we had on one occasion a very interesting meeting. It was on a fine afternoon in May, and the French army, outside the walls, were carrying on their barbarous and most unjust siege. I had many friends in Rome at the time, who had come up from the provinces, and were desirous to hear about our Reform; I therefore appointed them to meet me at the Coliseum; several Romans also were of the party, and altogether we formed a numerous body. I opened the Bible, and began to read to them the first verse of the fifth chapter of the Epistle to the Romans, explaining to them the signification of the expression, of being justified through faith. I then proceeded to read the first verse of the eighth chapter of the same Epistle, and commented on the meaning of the words, "to be in Christ Jesus." I next inquired of a boy who was present, if he could repeat to me the Ten Commandments, which when he did as he had learned them from his priest, I took occasion to show, that according to the Church of Rome, instead of ten commandments there were only nine, since the second, as it is given in the twentieth chapter of Exodus, and the fifth of Deuteronomy, was wanting. It is impossible to describe the amazement of my hearers on discovering this deceit on the part of their Church, against which they did not fail to exclaim, in no very measured terms. It was towards evening, and we were seated among these celebrated ruins; the moon was rising and began to shed her yellow rays upon the broken arches around; the scene was picturesque and impressive, and while our breasts were saddened by the contemplation of these remains of Roman grandeur, our souls were still more oppressed by the thought of the desolation that had fallen on Christianity itself.

One of my favourite resorts was the Circolo Popolare. Those persons who take it into their heads to calumniate the Romans on every occasion, designate this assembly as a democratic club, expressly organized, not merely to uphold the Roman Revolution, but to sow discord and disorder in society, anarchy in the government, and to effect the complete demoralization of the people; and in support of their assertion they cite the evil that was effected by the popular clubs in France. I, who was in Rome all this time, and took no part in the Government, nor held any office under it; I, who am also a Roman, and one who holds in the highest esteem principles of order, moderation, and justice,—I can declare what the Circolo Popolare really was. It was a club where citizens of every rank and condition met together, to promote, by their united counsel and operation, the liberty and national independence of their country. It was founded in the time when moderation prevailed, and Pio Nono favoured the cause of liberalism, and put himself at the head of the people; and he was supported by intelligent and just men, actuated by sincere patriotism, and free from self-interested motives. I was myself a member, as was the Count Mamiani, the AbbÉ Gioberti, the Marquess Savorelli and many more, whose characters were sufficient to stamp respectability upon any place they frequented. The rooms were open every evening, and there were always a number of persons present, to read the journals, to talk over the news, and not unfrequently to discuss political affairs, either legislative or financial.

In war time, the conversation turned on the position of the enemy, on our own fortifications and means of defence. In the midst of these discussions there arose the cheering thought of the protection of the Almighty, the acknowledgment of His good providence in our prosperity, and a sense of His justice in times of adversity. The consideration of these points was more particularly assigned to myself. I was the messenger of "good tidings from Zion;" always good to such as are willing to receive them. My ministry took a new form, a new character: I was a Christian citizen, and under that title I was acceptable to all classes, and the more so, as I was not suspected of looking out for proselytes; my style of conversation having nothing dogmatical in it. Indeed, I entered the more readily into political matters, since I rendered them subservient to the cause of religion. Pio Nono was my type of popery; the betrayer of his people, the bombarder of Rome, of Bologna, and of Ancona, as he was, he yet was not, in my estimation, the worst of Popes: from every one of them, I asserted, the same treatment must have been expected in similar circumstances. It was not so much the Pope, as the papal system that was to be abhorred, accursed, and sent back to the infernal world, from which it originally came.

The city of Rome owes its present state of desolation to the popes: it is they who have made it what it is. The desert between the Coliseum and the church of St. John Lateran is a record of Gregory VII., the paramour of the Countess Matilda: the ruins of the Borgo, sometimes called the city Leonina, recall the treachery of Clement VII., the bastard of Medici; who, from recent investigations, has been suspected of himself bringing in the army of Bourbon, and authorizing the sacking of Rome, with all the horrors related in the history of that period. The popes, to raise palaces for their, so-called, nephews, and to erect their churches, have destroyed the finest and most interesting monuments. And to what cause is to be attributed the scarcity of inhabitants in this city, which at one time in itself alone contained double the number of the present inhabitants of the whole of the Papal States? To the policy of the popes, who to shine the more conspicuously in insulated darkness, like a will-o'-the-wisp in a fog, have always desired a city of the dead, surrounded by a desert campagna. The system itself, therefore, is to be attacked, and not so much those who are at the head of it. They die, but the system is always living: and consequently men fitting for its service are never wanting. If I had been Pope, I might not have been any better one than Gregory VII., or Clement VII., or Pio Nono. I know that if some of the Italians had Pio Nono in their power, they would handle him very roughly; I, on the contrary, would not harm a hair of his head. I would, however, take care to place him where he should no more have it in his power to injure society. But what others would do to him personally, I would do to his Office; to his pretended spiritual authority, and to his ostentatious, nay, blasphemous, dignity. I would have the Papacy itself judged by the rational and religious in civilized society, and by them condemned to the ignominious death which it deserves.

In this manner I was accustomed to deliver my sentiments on such topics as were presented by the occurrences of the day. Generally our political discussions terminated in religious reflections, as it was natural they should do. At that time all classes of the people felt what an insult, what an outrage it was on humanity, to have their city besieged in the manner it was, by an enemy equally base, hypocritical, and inconsistent.

One day as I was walking along the Corso, a bombshell fell in the Piazza Colonna: "Ha!" exclaimed a Roman, "here is a gift from Pio Nono." "Yes," I observed, "it is a Bull that he sends us from Gaeta." This remark was mightily approved of, and the idea was so generally taken up, that the bombshell, for a whole fortnight, was kicked about the streets of Rome, under the title of the Pope's Bull. Afterwards, drawings and engravings were handed about, representing the bombshells that were showered upon Rome, with the following words inscribed upon them: Pio Nono to his beloved children, health and apostolic benediction. Pope Pius the Ninth, in lasting memorial of the event. Pius the bishop, the servant of the servants of God.

Unquestionably, the Pope could not have succeeded better than he has done, had he studied the means ever so deeply, in removing from the minds of the people all respect for the Papacy, and in exposing more completely its imposture, than by besieging and bombarding Rome, and the other two principal cities of his dominions. He never reflected that the altered state of the times would occasion a result exactly opposite to that which he anticipated. In fact, he has absolutely lost all that he intended to regain. The mere deprivation of his temporal dignity would have been a far less misfortune to him; he would then have preserved his spiritual power. Now, however, he has forfeited both. How much longer, we may ask, will he, or any one in his place, retain possession of the government of the Roman States, now that all trust and all veneration for the Papal dignity is for ever done away with?[104]

These reflections often came into my mind, the short time that Rome was a Republic; and they were strengthened when I afterwards saw the city taken possession of by French soldiers, and the old abhorred government once more imposed upon the citizens. It would be a difficult matter to render any people so subservient, and most of all the Romans, as to submit long to a government merely effected by force; it can only be upheld by France and Austria, so long as their bayonets are at hand to support it: and these bayonets are wielded by Papists! Is not this the last proof that was wanting to show that the Church of Rome is opposed to Christianity, which never has recourse to weapons of destruction? Is it possible to love a religion that is obliged to seek the aid of arms?—that to return to the place from which it has been driven, calls in foreign troops, selects deadly artillery, lays siege, batters down the walls, and showers into the town shells, grenades, rockets, and other projectiles?—that slaughters, destroys, and commits every ravage in order to replant a standard which at once displays and disgraces the sign of the cross?

At our Circolo, religion and politics were brought side by side; the throne of the Popes by the Cross of Christ. One evening a member arose and addressed the assembly as follows:—

"I think we are wrong in continuing any outward show of respect for the religion our priests lay down to us, which is, in fact, no religion at all; though they seem to think that, like Midas in the fable, who had the power of turning everything he touched into gold, so whatever they lay their hands upon must, of necessity, become holy, sacred, and divine. Until just now we had the Apostolic custom-house, and the Apostolic coat-of-arms! Did the Apostles then collect customs in their kingdom? or had they their coats-of-arms, their sumptuous carriages, and their richly-caparisoned horses?"

"St. Peter," observed another, "made it his boast that 'silver or gold had he none.'"

"But what," said I, "has the Pope to do with St. Peter? I maintain that he never was in Rome at all. Even if he had been, there is no reason why the Pope should call himself his successor."

"What!" inquired another, "have you good argument to show that St. Peter never was in Rome?"

Hereupon I brought forward the strong reasons that exist against the supposition, and the still greater absurdity of the assertion that he occupied the Pontifical throne for twenty-five years.

"At any rate," I added, "even granting that he had been here, that circumstance could not possibly have invested the Romish bishops with any right or privilege, since they themselves have never ventured any attempt to prove that he bequeathed to them the right of succession at his death."

Another evening we had a long conversation on the subject of the Saviour and His Gospel; when one of our party, who had been listening with much attention, demanding a hearing, said:

"Let it not surprise you, brother citizens, that I, who am as deeply interested in public matters as yourselves, now make a proposition which may seem to be altogether a private matter, an affair between God and man. Is not this hall sacred to the rights of the citizens? and have we not these rights from God? Every time that we meet here in the service of our country, this hall becomes a Temple in which the Deity presides. In destroying the government of the priests, and in depriving the Pope of his authority, we have most certainly no intention to offer any offence, either to religion or to God; we assert unequivocally that the religion we are desirous to profess is not one of human councils, or of vain traditions, and we are not disposed to admit that the Pope is God. Nay, so far are we from imagining that we have outraged the Deity in deposing the Pope, that, to undeceive all those who may have entertained such a notion, I propose that our Circolo Popolare, instead of remaining under the auspices of Pio Nono, should be placed under the immediate protection of God Himself. To which end, I move that Jesus Christ, the Son of God, who died for our salvation, should be declared the only Head and Lord of the Circolo Popolare, and that his statue should be placed here accordingly."

"Let it be so," exclaimed several voices at once, "we agree to it."

It was necessary, before the proposition could be carried, that it should have a certain number of signatures, and I gladly affixed my name to it. Oh! who can express the satisfaction I experienced at so signal a manifestation of a sincere religious feeling. I saw in it the operation and fruit of the Bible. It is needless to add that it was carried amid general acclamations, and these excellent young men thronged round me afterwards, rejoicing, and exclaiming:—"We have done right; we have exalted Christ and abased the Pope. Glory and honour to the Lord Jesus Christ: to the Pope confusion and disgrace. He has dared to excommunicate us; we, in our turn, will excommunicate him. It is the Church which has the right to excommunicate, and the people constitute the Church."

Yet this noble outburst of pure religious feeling has been basely misrepresented, by the enemies of civil and spiritual reform, as the language of profanity. France—traitorous and degraded France—joined in the senseless outcry, with the hypocrisy that has marked all her proceedings under her present most unworthy president; though she must well know how universal, in Catholic countries, it is to put all places of public resort under some saintly protection or other. If in this instance the Romans wisely chose to range themselves under the banner of their Saviour, rather than under that of any one who might be impiously exalted by the priests to share in the honour and worship due to Him alone, they had, at any rate, the example before them of the Florentines, who did the same thing in the time of Savonarola; that unhappy monk, who yielded up, amidst the flames lighted by the Inquisition, the life that he had devoted to unmasking the enormities of the Papal Church, and her instruments the priests.

With equal disingenuousness was it pretended to be understood by the same enemies of truth, whether moral or religious, that the motto of the Roman Republic, Dio e il Popolo, God and the People, signified The People is God, Dio È il Popolo. Thus wickedly did they bear false witness against their neighbour, and seek to confound right and wrong in the minds of those who would otherwise willingly have been led to form their opinions according to the rules of candour and justice.

At this juncture, when the Pope was struggling with the people for the possession of power, the Romans displayed great courage and enthusiasm. It was not imagined that a people sold to the Church would have possessed such a spirit of independence. The priests had declared that the Romans would not know how to go on without the Pope and the Cardinals: whereas, any one who was present in Rome in the year 1849, can bear testimony that they never were so full of contentment as when they had shaken their intolerable priestly yoke from their necks. Of all the misfortunes, of all the evils that befell them on their defeat, the most insupportable was the sight of the Cardinals and the Pope once more parading in the streets of their city. In the provinces the feeling against the purple dignity was even stronger still. The Legations were ready to call for the usurpation of the Austrian, rather than be again subjected to the Priests.

The short time that it was allowed me to enjoy my liberty in Rome, I had no time to occupy myself with looking after the neighbouring towns, except so far as writing letters to them, sending them Bibles, and deputing some of my friends in those quarters, to speak to the people the words of truth. It was my intention if the Republic had lasted, to take a circuit in the country, in order to extend my mission. But everybody knows how soon we were surrounded by hostile troops, so that it was impossible for me to go beyond the walls of the city.

I was frequently advised to betake myself to some other place; but I doubted the sincerity of these councils, and suspected some treachery; for the bigoted priests, and the Jesuit party, as they were termed, regarded my being in Rome with an evil eye; I have reason indeed to believe that they hated to see me among the living, and were most anxious to number me with the dead. My friends continually cautioned me to beware of them, and above all, not to eat or drink in the company of priests, friars, or their partisans; and I was so far influenced by their apprehensions, that I have not unfrequently refused invitations from persons of whom I had cause to be distrustful.

Before I received these cautions, however, soon after my arrival in Rome, I paid a visit to the Dominicans belonging to the Minerva, to see after my friends there. The general of the Order, Father Ajello, was my principal inducement; he was a worthy old man, whom I had known in Naples, and highly esteemed. I was received by him with every possible kindness; he brought old times to my remembrance, and spoke gratefully of the attentions I had shown him in my office of Prior; with him I willingly took a cup of chocolate, which is the usual compliment the friars offer their guests.

And here I may observe of these friars, that some of them are at present exactly in a similar state of mind to what I was myself, while among them; that is to say, greatly desirous to be acquainted with the truth; as was the case with the blind man in the Gospel, when he exclaimed: "Lord, that I might receive my sight."[105] The opportunity only is wanted, or some impulse to occasion them to open then eyes to the light. Should any one ask them why they remain as they are, they might probably reply as the cripple at the pool of Bethesda, "Sir, I have no man to put me into the pool."[106] I have myself, on various occasions, seen so many persons who have evinced their desire for the truth which leads to the putting on of the new man, that I feel confident if the Lord would grant us to breathe the air of liberty once more, in our much-loved country, we should see, even from the very monasteries, men come forth as preachers of the Gospel, Apostles of the Truth.

A very small number as yet have had the courage actually to issue from their dens of corruption and death; and in those who have attempted it the step has not been altogether complete. Either from the want of sufficient means, or that the period which Providence has assigned for these great changes has not yet arrived, these brethren, who might make themselves so useful, are for the present content to remove themselves a short distance from Rome, and to take no further measures.

I have had the same experience, with others. Three years since a dear friend of mine in Rome, struggling between light and darkness, life and death, called upon by the Spirit to come forth, and retained by the flesh in bonds, wrote to me at Malta such moving letters, as almost brought tears into my eyes. "Pray for me," he exclaimed, "pray that the Lord may enable me to overcome in this conflict; pray that the Spirit may triumph over the flesh."

I showed his letter to my friends, and besought them to add their prayers to mine for the relief of our brother, who was undergoing the same struggle that I had myself endured, and the severity of which I knew full well. Soon after, I left Malta to visit England, which I then did for the first time. My route lay through Switzerland and France, and wherever I met any of our brethren in these countries, I did not fail to ask their prayers also, that our friend in Rome might have the strength to break asunder the bonds in which he was held, and to vanquish his spiritual adversaries. It appeared that our united petitions in his behalf to the Fount of mercy, were not without success, since before I returned from London to Malta, our convert was already there, expecting my arrival. He is now a diligent labourer in the Lord's vineyard, and it is to be hoped that our earnest supplications may be beneficial also to many others, who are now undecided and wavering. We are indeed often disappointed in our most sanguine expectations, and deceived in our most flattering prospects; but all we have to do is to commit ourselves to the care of the Divine providence, after having ourselves done our utmost, as faithful ministers in Christ.

In my last visit to Rome, I entertained the idea that among the various monasteries with which the city abounds, many would be found who would listen to the word of God with enthusiasm, and that a considerable portion of the monks would unite with me in the good cause. Accordingly, on my arrival I made a circuit among the monasteries, declaring the necessity of separating Christianity from Popery, as utterly incompatible with each other. I entered into the discussion of various particulars, and although I met with considerable opposition, the major part of my hearers listened to me with docility, and evidently derived advantage from my arguments. But when on the very point of conviction, of declaring their disbelief of the Romish faith, and of professing their adherence to the true principles of Christianity—when they were just prepared to abandon the Mass—it was then, even at the decisive moment, that I saw them doubtful, apprehensive, and vacillating in their resolution; and it ended with some of them avoiding me from that time, as if the very sight of me reproached them with their weakness.

I had an interesting meeting, in the church of Santa Maria Maggiore, with my old friend and companion, Father Borg, a Dominican, and one of the Penitentiaries belonging to that Basilica; a good man and a sincere one; a papist from conviction, and thoroughly conscientious. He had been a Professor at the same time with myself, in the monastery Di Gradi at Viterbo. He was acquainted with every particular of my life; but I had not at that time let him into the secret of what was going on in my mind, with respect to my religious belief, as I deemed him unfit to give the matter impartial consideration. He had seen with the utmost surprise and consternation the events that had befallen me, and ignorant of what was passing within me, he could not in any way satisfy himself as to the great change I had experienced. From the time I had left Viterbo we had never met, but I felt assured of his regard. I could not, therefore, now remain in Rome without paying him a visit, and as nothing at the present moment forbade my doing so, revealing my sentiments.

Accordingly, I set off one morning for the church of Santa Maria Maggiore. The canons were chanting their regular service in the choir, and my friend was seated in his confessional, waiting for sinners to come before him to receive their pardon, and holding in his hand his long rod,[107] with which to touch the heads of those who should kneel before him. He did not expect to see me; I passed before him smiling, and saluted him; then turned back again, and did the same: at last he recognised me, and stretched out his hand to me, scarcely crediting the evidence of his senses.

"What, Achilli?"

"Yes, at your service. How do you find yourself?"

"You here?"

"Yes, I am come on purpose to pay you a visit."

"But tell me, are you not a Protestant?"

"My dear Borg, what does your question imply? I have nothing to protest against yourself."

"But against the pope?"

"I assure you I have nothing whatever to do with him."

"You are, then, a heretic!"

"Oh, no, my friend, I am a Christian; I believe in the Lord Jesus Christ, and in His Gospel."

"And in nothing else?"

"Is it necessary to my salvation to do so? Is it not written, 'Believe on the Lord Jesus Christ, and thou shalt be saved, and thy house?'"[108]

"Everybody here has declared that you have become a Protestant."

"I repeat to you that I am a Christian—hear the profession of my faith—a Christian according to the Bible; all that is written in that holy book I believe, and nothing that is not to be found therein."

"Then you do not believe in tradition?"

"Certainly not in that of the Decretals and of the Canons, which are exclusively of the Church of Rome, and in support of which she can produce neither authority nor reason; I believe in the traditions of the Church Universal; which includes not merely the Romish Church, but the Greek also, and all the reformed Churches in Christendom. For example, it is a true tradition that certain books are the true writings which compose the canon of the Holy Scriptures."

"Well, but do you not believe that there are seven Sacraments; that the Church has the power to absolve sins; that in the sacrament of the Holy Supper there is present the real body and blood of Christ?"

"My dear friend, what a world of questions all in a breath! Had we not better discuss them separately? Every one of them requires a long dissertation. But I can tell you I do not believe that you have ever had power to pardon the sins of any one, notwithstanding your office of Penitentiary, unless they were offences committed against yourself."

My friend, upon this observation, hastily quitted his confessional, in his eagerness to cope with the argument, and invited me to follow him to his own room, in the College of the Penitentiaries adjoining the church. I found there two other old Penitentiaries, whom I had formerly esteemed as my masters, Father Galleani and Father Chiappa. They were both glad to see me, and hearing that Father Borg had engaged me in discussion, they lent an attentive ear to it, in order to aid their colleague, if it should prove necessary. Thus I found myself alone against three stout adversaries.

"You do not believe, then," rejoined my friend, "that our confessors, approved by the Church, have the power of absolution?"

"I believe they may have, if the Church alone is sinned against."

"And if it be against God?"

"In that case God alone can pardon, or one who has received power from Him to do so. We read that Jesus Christ alone has that power, and this furnishes a convincing proof of His divinity. His enemies were wiser than they were aware of, when they said, 'Who can forgive sins, but God only?'"

"But the Church has received the power through St. Peter, along with the keys."

"Keys signify, in the spiritual sense, no other power than that of intelligence. We say, the key of the mystery, the key of the business, the key to an enigma, or to a cipher, or to characters. Therefore Christ, when he speaks of the keys of the kingdom of heaven, means us to understand, knowledge and intelligence in heavenly things, or in the essentials of the Church. By the words, 'Whatsoever thou shalt bind on earth shall be bound in heaven: and whatsoever thou shalt loose on earth shall be loosed in heaven,'[109] you understand binding and loosing, pardoning and the reverse. Well then, if such be the sense of the passage, the sins that are to be pardoned are those which we commit against each other; and it was with reference to our duty on such occasions that Peter asked of Christ, 'Lord, how oft shall my brother sin against me, and I forgive him? till seven times?'[110] If therefore I offend you, Father Borg, (which I would not willingly do, if conscious of it,) and confess the evil I have committed, it is your duty to forgive me."

"Your interpretation respecting 'the kingdom of heaven' is altogether new to me. Why should it be called the kingdom of heaven?"

"My good friend, it is the kingdom of heaven for which we supplicate the Lord, in the prayer which He has Himself given us, 'Thy kingdom come;' were it otherwise, we ought to say,—May we come into thy kingdom. And it is the same kingdom of which Christ speaks to His disciples, when He says to them: 'Because it is given unto you to know the mysteries of the kingdom of heaven, but to them it is not given.'[111] Now here are the keys of the kingdom of heaven given to all the disciples; that is, to all believers. In fact, the privilege granted to Peter, was also granted to all the faithful alike. Christ says, 'Verily I say unto you, Whatsoever ye shall bind on earth shall be bound in heaven: and whatsoever ye shall loose on earth shall be loosed in heaven.'[112] But to put the matter beyond doubt, the very same power of pardoning sins is given to all the disciples; 'Receive ye the Holy Ghost: whosesoever sins ye remit, they are remitted unto them; and whosesoever sins ye retain, they are retained.'[113] Do you imagine now that Jesus Christ at that time made so many penitentiaries of His disciples, or that He granted them the reserved cases in Bulla CoenÆ?"

"But St. Thomas Aquinas does not understand it in that way," observed Chiappa; "read his work."

"My dear master, it is better to read the Holy Scriptures," replied I; "in them only should we believe. I know quite enough of Thomas Aquinas; you yourself may remember how much time I wasted over his works! I am sorry I did. I feel myself now called upon to make up for it by giving my whole attention to the Holy Word; not only to counteract the impressions I formerly received, but what I have also taught to others, when I myself was blind and leading the blind. You refer me to Thomas Aquinas, and I refer you to the Bible."

"How! you reject the authority of the Angelic Doctor, he to whom the celebrated Crucifix spoke, saying, 'Thou hast written well of me, Thomas.' You dare to contradict him! and make your appeal to the Bible! None studied it more than he did, none understood it so fully. Do you pretend to say that you know it better?"

"But," said I to him, "you are now going upon another question. I think it would be as well to settle the original one first."

"I cannot argue," replied he, "with one who doubts such authority. You know what Pope John XX. said of Thomas Aquinas: that whoever departed from his doctrine, semper fuit de veritate suspectus." So saying, up rose Father Chiappa, and abruptly left the room.

Father Galleani was a more quiet disputant. From the subject of Confession, we passed to that of Transubstantiation, and to the propitiatory Sacrifice of the Mass. When I found myself engaged in this argument, I confess, that losing sight of moderation, I assailed the Popish system with great warmth, and inveighed against the impiety of its doctrines, so injurious to the sacred mystery of the passion and love of Christ.

"I cannot conceive, my dear master," I observed, "of an idea more degrading to Christianity—a bread god! I say bread, since what the Church of Rome calls the Body of Christ is actually neither more nor less than bread. It was bread in the hands of Christ Himself, when He said, 'This is my body,' and it is as bread that it forms the mystery of the Eucharist. Christ brake no other substance than the bread, nor ate any other Himself, nor gave any other to the Apostles. Unquestionably it is a figurative sign, a representation of the Body of Christ, which having suffered upon the cross has become spiritual food, a vital nutriment, for all true believers. Bread itself can only be eaten in a natural way; Christ living in the body, could not be eaten without occasioning His death. But you will tell me that it is a miracle. I answer that God can unquestionably work miracles, but he cannot act against Himself—Christ living and conversing as a human being, could not be eaten without ceasing to converse and to live. Tell me, moreover, how could Christ substantially eat Himself? This monstrous belief was never that of our fathers, who always considered, when they met together to eat this bread, that it was a symbol of the natural body of Christ, and of His mystical body, the Church. And this is the true signification of the Sacrament. Neither in one view nor in the other can the words be taken in their literal sense."

"But you are aware that the Angelic Doctor, St. Thomas, asserts that the whole of Christ is in the Sacrament in actual substance, under the form of bread and wine; and that it is not circumscribed, as water in a basin nor definitive, as the soul within the body; but sacramentally, spiritually, and substantially present at the same time."

"But if it be one, it cannot be the other: the substance of the body of Christ is physical and not spiritual; if it be substantial it cannot be spiritual, and vice versa."

Here we were interrupted by Father Borg, who, finding I gave up no one point, and that the argument was pushed on to contradiction—I with the Bible in my hand, and my opponent with his Thomas Aquinas—thought best to put an end to it by changing the discourse. God grant that what I then advanced may be like seed thrown into good ground, which in due time produces its fruit of life eternal!

After my first few visits to the monasteries, I began to perceive that I was looked upon with suspicion, and had to encounter many sour glances. I thought it better, therefore, to give up my mission among these people for a while, unless they themselves should come in search of me. In fact several, of various orders, did come, more especially towards evening, wearing a secular dress, and requesting me to keep their visit secret.

At no time did I feel more impressed with the importance of the mission which the Lord had confided to me than in the latter days of the Republic. It was then that I witnessed prodigies of conversion, not among the priests or friars, for they, seeing the probable restoration of the papal government at hand, quickly relapsed into their accustomed notions, and were ready once more to submit their necks quietly to the bonds that held them captive alike in mind and body;—it was among the laity, the professional men, and men of science, the tradespeople and artists, that the greatest progress was made. Some few were of mature age, but most of them were young men, who were enabled, through the blessing of the Almighty, to open their eyes to the light, and to rejoice their hearts with the love of truth. Many whom I had never before seen came to tell me that they had heard of my ministry, and had become acquainted with the doctrines I taught; and desired to open their minds to me, and to co-operate with me in the establishment of a Church, in which Christ should be supreme, and His Holy Word recognised.

Some of the best informed among them could give me very sufficient reasons for their belief; others were anxious to correct their ideas, and to get rid of their errors: I assisted as many as I could with my own instructions, and supplied others with useful books for their perusal. But as much as possible I showed them from the Bible itself the arguments connected with our subject: I endeavoured to avoid all appearance of undue authority, and to unfold my views in a familiar and friendly tone, as one brother with another, and occasionally we engaged together in prayer. In this, however, I took care to avoid any approach to a set form or ritual, leaving that to be adopted upon mature deliberation, when our Church could openly assemble without danger.

During the first month or two I had prayer meetings at my own house, every Sunday and Friday; at which, as Christians before God, we all assembled. But these it was soon found necessary to discontinue, as they were looked upon with a jealous eye by the priests, evidently with the intention of revenging themselves, at some future time, when the old order of things should be restored, against such of us as might then remain in Rome.

I thought it best therefore not to compromise any of my converts, and gave them to understand that I could no longer receive them, at that time, as a congregation. Nevertheless, on Sundays I admitted a few to private worship; and sometimes we met at each other's houses, or in some artist's studio, where it was our custom to read a portion of the Bible, and offer up our prayers: and I am assured that many still continue to do so, in such a manner as to evade the search that is made for them without ceasing by the government, the despotic and uncharitable government of the Priests. May the Lord continue in all those who have thus far received the truth, that fervent spirit which shall enable them to hold fast together, until it shall please Him to reunite us, free citizens, under liberal laws, such as His gracious providence has bestowed on other nations!

On the 2d of July the French troops entered Rome. An army of forty thousand men, with all the resources of military art, had laid siege to the city, and for three months remained under its walls; one-third of which time was passed in hard fighting, with heavy loss on both sides, but chiefly on theirs. After a continual thundering of artillery, a bombardment in fact of fifteen days, a breach was effected and mounted: but nevertheless the city was not entered until the enemy learned that no further resistance could be maintained; when the wearied, half-famished troops, covered with dust and scorched by the sun, made their inglorious entry into Rome, with a tremendous park of artillery, and every hostile demonstration, to receive from the entire populace unequivocal marks of scorn and derision, even from the women and children.

In those unhappy days I did not leave the house. Grieved to see the overthrow of a government which the majority of the people had ardently longed for, the only one fitting for our country, in the estimation of every one who is no longer content to endure the deadening influence of the Papal yoke,—indignant at beholding a foreign power so disgracefully violate its own honour, its own laws, in order to invade and oppress a people that had no way offended it, I preferred, as many others did, to remain at home, that I might neither see nor hear what was going on. I was sufficiently rewarded for doing so, in a series of agreeable visits; from morning till night I had persons with me conversing on religious matters, and I had frequent opportunities of distributing the Bible among them, and through them to others.

On the 24th of June I had entered into the married state. During the seven years that I had been emancipated from Rome, I might at any time have done so. And at first I had seriously thought of it, seeing that I was at the head of a small establishment, and imagining that a wife would greatly lighten the burthen of it; besides the advantage she would have afforded me in a more free and confidential intercourse with the sex. But I objected to it for two reasons: first, because, having engaged in so difficult an undertaking as that of a religious reform in Italy, I foresaw it would be incumbent on me to journey about to different places, and that therefore I must be alone, in order to do so without hindrance or impediment; and, secondly, that my enemies might not, with their accustomed calumny, assert that my desertion of the Romish Church had been solely prompted by my desire to renounce my celibacy. For although that in itself might have been accounted a sufficient reason to abandon the faithless Church, so prophetically described by St. Paul as "forbidding to marry, and commanding to abstain from meats,"[114] yet I should not have wished it to be said that I had been actuated by that motive only, and not by higher and more spiritual ones. But I afterwards saw the necessity and even the duty of such a step, since by taking it I should place myself in a state of equality with other men. The words of St. Paul to Timothy, "A bishop must be the husband of one wife," I consider to be something more than mere advice that Christian pastors should marry. For my own part I have always inveighed against the law of celibacy, and invariably have advised my friends to enter, as early as they prudently might, into the conjugal state. Why should not I then do so, whilst yet in the prime of life?

"What a scandal to the Church," I observed one day to some Romish priests, "is this vow of celibacy among the clergy. And after all, if considered synonymous with that of chastity, where is it kept sacred? Rarely indeed! by either bishop, cardinal, or pope. As to the lower order of priests, what with temptation from within and example from without, the vow is continually violated; and if the observance of it be alike injurious to nature and to society, as it unquestionably is, can it be good in itself, or proper to be enforced?"

"Well, then," said they, "show us how we can release ourselves from our vow."

"The Republican Government," I answered, "have made a law which declares that these vows shall be no longer binding, and that every citizen shall enjoy equal rights. This law, which was issued in the month of May last, authorized all of us to marry, since the sole legal impediment was the pretext of a binding vow of celibacy."

"It is very true," observed one of the priests, "we are now at liberty to get married in Rome; but no one as yet has had the courage to set the example."

"Then I will," I exclaimed; "I promise you that before this Government is at an end, I shall be married, and so set the example of a holy action in Rome."

Shortly after this conversation I offered my hand to Miss Josephine Hely, the youngest daughter of Captain Hely; an amiable young lady, carefully and virtuously brought up, and happily for herself, as for me, imbued with Protestant principles, by a dear friend of hers, Mrs. Tennant, the wife of the Rev. Mr. Tennant, the minister of the English Church at Florence. This lady had always manifested a mother's tenderness for her, and it is in grateful acknowledgment of it, on the part of my wife, and equally on my own, that I pay this testimony to her worth. We were publicly and solemnly joined in holy matrimony on the 24th of June, 1849, according to the rites of our Italian Church; but as the government which authorized that act has since fallen, or rather has become suspended, we took care, on arriving in England, to have our marriage duly registered, at the Parish Church of St. Martin in the Fields.

I was convinced, in the very commencement of my conjugal life, that I had not been too sanguine in my hopes of finding a congenial companion and valuable helpmate, in my destined and beloved partner. The similarity of our religious views, the facility with which she expressed herself in my native language, which was indeed hers also, and her ardent desire to co-operate with me in my designs, all made me look upon my union with her as another of the precious favours for which I had to be grateful to the Lord; equally likely to increase my own happiness, and to extend the sphere of my usefulness to others.

My dear wife loved me as the wife of a minister of the Gospel ought to love her husband. She was aware what the followers of Christ had to expect. I had myself forewarned her that if she anticipated comfort in my affection, and delight in my society, she would also have to experience much trouble. On our very wedding day I told her that the lot she would have to share with me would in all probability be more marked by tribulation than by joy, and that in this world we might be called on to suffer in the flesh—for the spirit cannot be injured—to endure persecution even unto death: she bowed her head in resignation to the will of Heaven, and assured me that she also was desirous to become a handmaid of the Lord, and was ready to do His will.

It was ordained that we should soon be put to the proof. Scarcely a month had passed over our heads, when a sudden stroke divided us. Was this misfortune foreseen by me? Had I no indication of its approach? It would be folly in me to say that I did not expect it. But so it was, I had no help for it. The hand of Him who is mighty to save kept me in Rome in the midst of danger and alarm. Even my wife, who is naturally timid, seemed at that time endued with a courage that rendered her insensible to the imminent peril that awaited me. We talked much together, concerning the difficulties of my position, without being able to come to any positive decision. In short, we saw the storm approaching, but knew not how to avoid it. Some advised me to be circumspect; others spoke out plainly of the probability of my being put into prison. But I laughed at them.

"Why do you not get away?" asked one of my best friends. "Do you not know that already arrests are being made on every side? Do you think it likely that they will spare you, who have rendered yourself so obnoxious to the priests?"

"My dear friend," I replied, "the present government have but one fault to charge me with, that of having abandoned the Church and reformed my creed, and, as a natural consequence, if you will, entered into matrimony. Now for this pretended crime I am only responsible to the Inquisition. The civil tribunals have nothing against me; I am no political offender. It is well known that ever since I have returned to Rome I have lived as a private citizen, and never held any office under the Republic; so that I am easy on that score. As to the criminal courts, thank Heaven, I have no cause to fear them; nor in that of the Vicar-General can any charge be laid against me for immorality. But do you think that the Tribunal of the Inquisition can ever be re-established? under the protection of France too? It is not to be thought of. At any rate, without the Pope and the Cardinals there can be no Inquisition in Rome, and they are not likely to return just yet. Indeed, I shall not wait for them; I shall be far away before they come back."

"Your reasoning is very good; but do you imagine justice will be done to you? have you never heard the logic of priests? Stat pro ratione voluntas: they have only to desire, and your ruin is certain."

"My dear friend, prudence is very desirable; but not so that restless apprehension which takes possession of the mind, to the exclusion of all other feelings, and leads us to imagine danger where none exists. Our Lord authorized His disciples, when they should be persecuted in one city, to flee unto another; but who, as yet, has persecuted me? If I fly without such persecution, what answer shall I give to the Lord, when he shall say to me: 'Shepherd, I had entrusted a flock to your care, I had even given you my lambs to feed, and to guide into the paths of salvation; you were their guardian; and behold, you saw the wolf approach, and you fled. You are not their true shepherd, but a hireling who careth not for the sheep. Leave it to Pio Nono, who is no true shepherd, to desert his flock; but you—' Ah! my friend, above all I should dread so terrible and so just a reproof. I will only fly when the Lord, who has placed me here, enjoins me to do so. Until He declares His will, I shall remain where I am."

At this my friend shook his head, and said, "Since you are resolved, may the Lord keep and protect you. He will either remove the danger from you, or——but whatever be His pleasure, may His gracious will be done."

"Amen," I answered.

Towards the end of July, I was informed that another case of Bibles had arrived, directed to me, and was lying at the Custom-house.

"Alas!" I exclaimed, "my poor Bibles have come too late!" The Custom-house had returned to its old system; the inspector of books was again upon the alert, on the part of the master of the Sacred Palace; it would be impossible to get them out of his hands; still I resolved to make the attempt; not indeed personally, but through the mediation of others; and the attempt was fatal to me. My Bibles were confiscated, and were turned into an evidence sufficient to condemn me. The endeavour to introduce the Bible into Rome is a crime not to be pardoned, "neither in this world nor in the next;"—it is reckoned as the real sin against the Holy Roman Church; a more direful one, in her estimation, than that against the Holy Ghost.

"Now, indeed," my friends observed, "there is cause for fear. This case of Bibles is a body of crime: hasten out of Rome; delay not a day."

I confess I did indeed feel a cold shudder, even to my very bones, as I thought of it. I saw that my fate would be the same as that of the books. If they were shut up, could I hope to remain at liberty? This occurred on the 26th of July; I might have got away, but I had always accustomed myself, especially in times of trouble, not to rely on my own judgment, or act from my own will. As a believer in the Divine providence, I desired in all things to be governed by the will of God; and accordingly I sought in prayer His guidance, determined to act as His influence should direct me. He appeared to require a sacrifice of me; my testimony to Himself, and to our Blessed Saviour. My flight would have characterised me as an apostate, a deserter from my duty. Could I terminate my mission so unworthily? Should I, by a single act, lose all that I had obtained with so much exertion? I remembered the prayer I had offered up on entering Rome, "Lord, as in this same city Thou didst send thine Apostle Paul to overthrow idolatry, and to announce the glad tidings of salvation; and didst ordain that he should remain for the space of two years within these walls, so grant to me, thy servant, that being also sent here in thy service, I may remain here at least for the term of one year, in the continual exercise of my mission, through Jesus Christ our Lord." This prayer, which I then offered up in faith, could not but be granted; and divine favour is not given by halves. I therefore considered that as I had yet only been six months in Rome, there were six more that I had to remain, to do the Lord's will—it mattered not under what circumstances I should be placed, I had still my work to do. The Apostles even in prison continued their labours. Whatever it pleases God to appoint for the future, it is my duty at present to remain in Rome.

These reflections imparted so much comfort and satisfaction to my mind, that I look back upon these days as the happiest of my life. I regarded my dear companion with confidence and holy joy, and more than once asked her if she too were not willing to do the will of the Lord, and whether He sent us joy or tribulation, to bless His holy name.

"Ah! yes," she replied, "have we not frequently promised it to each other? Was it not our prayer when we were first betrothed, and was it not renewed on the day of our marriage? I am ready to submit to the will of the Lord."

This also was an inexpressible satisfaction to me. To see a beloved wife, whom only one short month before I had received as a precious gift from heaven, so well disposed to make the greatest sacrifices for the love of God! Everything tended to confirm me in the thought that it was my duty to wait with resignation the fate that should be allotted to me.

From the 26th to the 29th I remained at home, distributing the Bible and speaking of the Gospel of Christ, to all who came to me. From an early hour in the morning until late in the evening I had a perpetual throng of visitors. On the evening of the 29th I felt more than usually tired, having been engaged in speaking the whole of the day. My wife was not very well, and at about eleven o'clock we retired to rest. At twelve, I heard a violent knocking at the front door. It was the Inspector of the Police, with three officials from the Inquisition, escorted by six of the chasseurs de Vincennes. Yes, the soldiers of the French Republic, after having destroyed a government as legitimate as their own, now lent their assistance to the tools of the Pope, to execute the orders of the Inquisition!

These nocturnal visitants evidently came for the purpose of arresting me. I asked by whose authority they acted. The Inspector, Signor Volponi, replied, "By authority of the Prefect of Police," (at that time an officer of the French Republic.) We exchanged but few words. I commended my wife to the care of the Lord, leaving her with her brother Henry and her sister Elizabeth, who at that time were living with us, and allowed myself to be taken away to the palace of the Governor.

The next morning the chief bailiff came to reconnoitre me; and after some deceitful words and lying promises, on the part of the Prefect of Police, sent me off, under an escort, to the Inquisition; where I was placed in a cell wherein two priests were already confined, on the charge of having taken part in the affairs of the Republic. They knew me by sight, it appeared; though I did not myself recollect having ever seen them before.

There were altogether in the prisons of the Holy Office, at that time, about fifteen priests; not one of them was accused of any pretended heresy, but all of having written, as well as spoken, against the temporal power of the Pope.

My two fellow-prisoners soon became on friendly terms with me. Their desire to hear me deliver my sentiments on religious matters made them forget everything else; they were famishing after the doctrines of the Truth, of the Word of God. I had not a Bible with me; I had not been allowed to bring one; but I cited passages from memory, and as I was well acquainted with the Vulgate edition, I quoted the Latin text; and I frequently heard such remarks as, "Oh, I was not aware of it!"—"Indeed! I never reflected on that before!"—"You are quite right; your argument is undeniable."

The authority of the Church was the grand topic; we continually returned to it; the Primacy of the Pope, as derived from the Apostle Peter. What a surprise it was for them to hear themselves contradicted in this belief, which they had regarded as an absolute axiom; to be told that among the Apostles no one was head or chief; that Jesus Christ never gave any distinct diploma to St. Peter; and that on the contrary, He expressly declared that no one should be lord or master over the others, since they were all brethren.

"But Peter," said they, "was always foremost in speaking; he answered for the rest, without being called upon to do so, as one having authority."

"St. Peter," I replied, "was characterised by his great boldness, which indeed often amounted to presumption: his words to our Lord were: 'Though all men should be offended because of thee, yet will I never be offended;'[115] and, again, 'Though I should die with thee, yet will I not deny thee!'[116] You know how this proud boasting ended. He was also bold when he requested Jesus to enable him to walk upon the water; but this daring soon gave place to fear, and he began to sink. His presumption even went so far as to 'rebuke' his Lord and Master, when He told His disciples 'that he must go unto Jerusalem, and suffer many things ... and be killed.'[117] And did not Peter well deserve the reproof he then received: 'Get thee behind me, Satan, thou art an offence unto me: for thou savourest not the things that be of God, but those that be of man'?[118] So much for the authority of this Prince of Apostles, as he is called, and his claim to supremacy, dignity, and infallibility in the Church! St. Paul, at any rate, does not seem to admit it, when he says, 'But when Peter was come to Antioch, I withstood him to the face, because he was to be blamed.'[119] It is to be noted that this took place at Antioch, where, according to the Church, of Rome, St. Peter established the first pontifical chair, and, consequently, where he may be supposed to have spoken ex cathedra."

My poor friends had no more to say. One of them was extremely docile, and from the first was disposed to admit the authority of the Bible. The other was equally desirous to understand the truth, but he could not divest his mind of its old prejudices: he was pained to see the idols of his temple destroyed. We discussed these subjects every hour of the day, and during part of the night. An oppressive, suffocating heat prevented our sleeping; what little breath we had we employed in these discourses, and in occasional prayers. The second day after my arrival, the least docile of my new friends yielded to my arguments; both were now converted to my opinions. Towards evening we were engaged on the important question, as to the sole mediation of Jesus Christ, to the exclusion of that of the Virgin Mary and of the saints, when suddenly the door of my prison opened, and I was laid hold of by two of the officials of the Inquisition, and by them taken out and delivered over to a party of carbineers, to be conducted to the Castle of St. Angelo.

My two friends were in despair at seeing me removed; one of them could scarcely refrain from tears. I shared in their emotion, and invoked the blessing of Heaven in their behalf.

Arrived at the castle, I was confided to the guidance of a single carbineer, who took me within side, and led the way to the upper part of the fortress, where the secret prisons are situated.[120]

"Can you tell me, my friend," I inquired of the carbineer, who seemed a good sort of a man, "why I am removed from the Inquisition to this castle? Is it better or worse, with respect to accommodation?"

"Pretty much the same," he replied. "As far as I can learn, it appears that you have been removed from the Inquisition, because the great wall that lately surrounded it is now destroyed, and the prison is not considered sufficiently secure. I believe too, that it has been deemed expedient to place you out of the way of the priests who are confined there. You are looked upon with great mistrust in consequence of your dealings about the Bible. You know it is prohibited in Rome."

I was now locked up in the remotest part of the fortress, la Gemella Seconda.