THE CASTLE OF ST. ANGELO.

Conducted into this cell, in which from some unseen cause there was a most offensive odour, I was shown in one corner a mattress that seemed to have served as a bed for dogs.

"There," said my gaoler, "you can take your rest when you like. We cannot leave you any light, for it is altogether prohibited in your case. It is a new regulation, which is not in force with respect to prisoners for political offences. We do not know, at present, on what charge you are brought here."

So saying the gaoler retired, closing the first and second doors; and I remained in darkness in the middle of my dirty cell, oppressed by the heated unwholesome air which I could scarcely breathe. I was abandoned by man, but my God was with me. Hence, though deprived of everything, I felt I was not utterly forsaken. Fatigued and exhausted, I needed repose; but without food, which for three days I had scarcely tasted, I could not sleep. I passed the night in prayer to my God, and found comfort in the remembrance of the sufferings my Saviour endured for our sakes.

Sometimes my thoughts reverted to my Christian brethren, and particularly to those who, as I well knew, continued to love me.

"Oh!" said I to myself, "if they could know of my imprisonment, I am certain they would put up their most fervent prayers to the Almighty: my dear friends in England—brethren of the Evangelical Alliance—friends in France and in Geneva! God, thou wilt listen to the supplications of thy children, and grant their prayers!"

The following day, by the little light which glimmered through a high narrow window, I could better examine my habitation; and found the bad smell proceeded from the pavement, the bed, and still more from a wooden box, placed at the outside of the window, as if to obstruct both the air and the light, and that contained a quantity of filth and rubbish, which there were no means of removing; as it was fastened down at the outside, and had on the inner side an iron grating, which, together with the bars of my window prevented any access to it. My inviting mattress was to serve the double purpose of bed and chair. The walls, on which my eyes must necessarily rest as soon as I opened them, were scrawled over with monstrous figures and dolorous inscriptions in charcoal, by those who had been confined there. I thus learnt that this cell had contained thieves, assassins, and amongst others the notorious Abate Abbo, of whose horrible crimes and cruelties I have already made mention.

At a certain hour of the day I was visited by the gaoler, who said to me courteously:

"I am sorry you should be treated in this manner. I know who you are, and I know what you are accused of; you have cause to rejoice in your alleged offence, but at present it is expedient that you should resign yourself to this hard treatment; perhaps I may be able in some measure to soften the rigour of it. Suffer patiently, and put in practice what you teach others."

"My kind friend," I replied, "you have a heart formed for compassion. The exhortations and professions that I hear from your lips show me you intend to do all you can to cheer my imprisonment; and even though you should not be permitted to offer me any other charity, I shall always be grateful for this—that I receive your sympathy. Oh! believe me it will be requited to you by Him who has said through Jesus Christ, 'Whosoever shall give to drink a cup of cold water only, in the name of a disciple, verily I say unto you, he shall in no wise lose his reward.'"[121]

"And where is it that Jesus Christ says these words?"

"In the Gospel written by St. Matthew."

"I would willingly read it, if I understood Latin."

"It is to be had in Italian—good Italian; I will tell you where you can procure it, by asking for it in my name."

This man in a very short time became my friend. I can now speak of him without fear of doing him any injury by my disclosures, because I have heard that he has given up his employment, and is no longer in the Roman States.

He was not the only gaoler, but he was one of the chief amongst them: he was nevertheless always in fear of his subalterns, who watched him very closely, and informed against him whenever they had any excuse for so doing; insomuch that however cautious he might be, he was frequently reproved by the superior, for being too indulgent.

These prisons were all filled with people thrown in for various imputations, and consequently subject to various courts.

Eighteen different tribunals, some lay and some ecclesiastical, were re-established in Rome, on the return of the priests; besides these there were the Inquisition and the French court martial. The greater part of the prisoners did not know under what judges they would come, or what crime was to be imputed to them. Thus passed away six months, and none of them yet knew by whom, or for what offence, they were going to be tried. As to myself I was very soon told on whose accusation I was placed there, without, however, being informed upon what charge.

Captain Gennari, who had the custody of those detained in the fort, came after a few days to tell me that I was under the tribunal of the Inquisition;—that the Commissary of the Holy Office, Father Cipolletti, had sent for him, to tell him I was to be watched with the utmost vigilance, and treated with the greatest rigour; without seeing any one, or communicating with a single individual, either verbally or in writing: in short, without light in the evening, or anything whatever beyond what was absolutely necessary to prolong my existence. This official communication was sufficient to prevent my flattering myself that I should meet with gentle treatment, or even with common humanity, unless I obtained some indulgence from the good nature of the gaoler.

Captain Gennari, when he spoke to any one of his mode of acquitting himself in his office, used to say—"I do my duty as a soldier, and if my own father were imprisoned here, from whatever cause it might be, I should not treat him any better than the rest." Nevertheless, this impartial man knew how to relax his severity towards those who could afford to be generous.

My imprisonment continued with unabated rigour, and all the consolation I found was in the comfort of the Holy Spirit, and the kindness of the good gaoler. He redoubled his visits, and often came twice during the day to condole with me.

"Tell me," said he, one day, "what I can do for you, to render your confinement less irksome."

"You can do me one favour, which would be the greatest of all under this heavy tribulation. You know my residence, where my wife now is; go, and inquire for a book for me, the book that I constantly read, and the not having it with me now is my greatest trouble—that is, my Bible. In this way you may render me a double service. Tell that dear creature, also, that I am in good health and perfect tranquillity of mind."

"Yes," said he, "I can serve you so far, and I promise you I will."

On the morrow, he came back in high glee.

"Your wife and all the rest salute you, and she sends you the book."

"God be thanked!"

My good gaoler offered to take care of my Bible for me, and asked me to make him acquainted with its contents. No one can imagine how I enjoyed the first time I read it to him; and he continually contrived opportunities for availing himself of my instructions. I spoke to him one day of the gaoler at Philippi, and how he was called by God, and taught by the holy apostles. Another time I read to him the parable of the Prodigal Son which touched him so much, that he would read it again himself.

"Oh, what a noble book is this Bible!" he exclaimed; "but do the priests believe that it contains the word of God?"

"They say they believe it," I replied, "but their actions contradict their assertion; in fact, they neither read it themselves nor let others read it."

"I understand why—this book does not approve all that they say. If we were to read it attentively, could we afterwards believe in their childish stories?"

Whenever I expounded the Scriptures to him, he seemed as if he could not look at the pure doctrines of Christianity, without confronting them with the corrupt practices of popery.

One time he did not visit me as usual, but another came in his place.

"Is it true," said my new gaoler to me, "what they say of you, that you are put into prison for reading the Bible? But how is that?—is it prohibited? Is it not the book of God?"

"Yes, certainly it is the book of God; this the pope confesses; nevertheless he does not wish it to be read, because he says that no man but himself can understand what God says."

"Would God, then, have spoken not to be understood? Is it likely that God would speak only to the pope, and a few others, like the kings of the earth? I believe that God has spoken for all, and that what is written, is written for all."

"My good friend, you show more intellect than the pope, and more good sense than all his priests. Do not let them impose upon you. Read the Bible, you will obtain one ... ask for it in my name, and it will be given to you."

Three or four other gaolers came to me; all spoke, more or less, the same language; these were all soldiers. Were they not more worthy than cardinals? But of all these men the first was the one to whom I was the most attached, and he, by the mercy of God, was the most attached to me. I was his counsellor in his difficulties, his consolation in his afflictions. I was, he said, a friend and a father to him: and he was of great benefit to me, for he frequently was able to temper the severity of my imprisonment.

"I know," said he one day, "why they do not wish you to hold any communication with others. It is that you may not speak to them of the Bible, of the Gospel, of Jesus Christ. I will not be the means, however, of depriving those who would derive profit from it of this opportunity. I will open the door that communicates with some other cells, where several have already begged me to allow them to speak to you; M. Gazola has often made the request. I know that you will always do good, and never harm to any one; now I will willingly give you an opportunity to do this good, and I trust that God will protect us both from the power of our enemies."

"Oh! my dear friend," said I to him, "it is surely the Lord who has inspired you; do not doubt that He will be with us, if we faithfully serve Him."

After this time, the door of my prison was occasionally left unfastened, so that I might communicate with those who were confined in the same part with myself. Several that could not visit me in the day-time came at night. I am sorry that I cannot at present enter into more particular details, since, at the time I am writing, the major part of my fellow-prisoners are still in confinement, and the remainder are either in Rome or in the Papal states, and consequently under the jurisdiction of the Inquisition. I could otherwise relate many things which our good brethren would be delighted to hear; I may however make the general remark, that whenever I communicated with my fellow-prisoners, our conversation invariably turned on religious matters; it was a subject of rejoicing for us when our prison doors were opened, which each day the gaoler was requested to do at as early an hour as possible. I continued my lectures for the space of a month, and during that time my Bible was in frequent circulation among them.

The treatment experienced in this prison is certainly not so bad, in most cases, as it is in every other within the walls of Rome. The Castle of St. Angelo is chiefly set apart for prisoners of distinction. Cardinals and prelates who fall into disgrace with the pope are confined in it. For this purpose there are a variety of apartments; in one of them are shown the iron rings that had the honour of securing the cord with which the celebrated Cardinals Caraffa, Coscia, and others were hung. Pope Clement VII. was likewise a prisoner in this fortress, at the time of its occupation by the Imperial forces, which he himself had called into Rome. The records of this edifice, which, as everybody knows, was originally the mausoleum of the Emperor Adrian, would throw considerable light on the history of the papacy, and unfold many of the evil deeds of the popes. It has been the scene of the most unheard-of cruelties, as well as of the most shameless and revolting obscenities. The well-known orgies of Pope Alexander VI., which were celebrated partly in the gardens of the Vatican, and partly in the Castle of St. Angelo, have left a stain upon its walls that can never be effaced. Like the Pope's bulls, it serves "ad perpetuam rei memoriam."[122] In one of the halls are the notorious pictures by Julio Romano, of which it would be difficult to decide whether the artistical skill they display be more admirable, or the subjects they represent more grossly indecent and detestable. Colonel Calandrelli, one of the most valiant defenders of the republic, and a triumvirate, after Mazzini—a gentleman equally learned in the history of his country as he has shown himself brave in her service, has assured me that he has a work ready for publication, in which the whole history of this celebrated castle is unfolded from authentic documents.

My imprisonment was a source of much trouble and uneasiness to the three cardinals whom the pope had commissioned to take the reins of government. They frequently sent for Captain Gennari to inquire concerning me, and to give fresh orders respecting my safe incarceration. I remember on one occasion the good gaoler having kindly opened for me the door of communication, hastily returned, and with his hand made signs to me to re-enter my cell with all speed, that he might again close the door. Another time, very early in the morning, while I was yet lying on my before-described mattress, the outer door was opened in a very unusual manner, and I heard the voice of Captain Gennari, who loudly called out: "Here he is; come in, Sir, and certify for yourself that Signor Achilli is here;" then opening the door of my cell, he called to me by name, and on my replying to him, observed to his companion, "You hear the voice of Signor Achilli, do you not? Be assured the Cardinal's orders will be duly attended to." Then putting his head into my cell, he whispered to me, "He comes from the Cardinal-Vicar, with fresh orders as to your more close confinement."

After this my poor gaoler began to take fright, and durst no longer allow me to have my door opened as usual: he assured me that he was alarmed for me, as well as for himself; as the first thing that would be done, in case his indulgence was discovered, would be his own removal, and the appointment of another in his place, who would have orders to treat me with greater severity. I afterwards learned that a new prisoner, who had been placed in a cell near my own for some misconduct two or three days before, had informed his father confessor that he had seen me go out and converse with other prisoners; and from what he heard, it appeared to him that I had preached Protestant doctrines to them, and that they had become my followers. The confessor told all this to the cardinals, but, fortunately for me, he had the reputation of being so great a liar, that he obtained no credit with them for his statement, however true it might be; so I heard no more of it.

In the midst of these apprehensions, and with the possibility of finding myself put into irons, my courage never gave way, neither did my zeal diminish in the cause of my friends. I continued, as often as I could, my accustomed discourses, as if I were at liberty, and in a land of freedom. I took no precaution as to whom I addressed myself; my sole care was to render my subject intelligible, and to impress on the mind of my hearers a lasting idea of its importance: with the learned my arguments were more scientific; with the uninstructed, more simple and familiar.

In this way my mission continued to progress even within the walls of a prison. The cardinals, in ordering my incarceration, imagined they had put a stop to my operations, whereas they only accelerated them. We laughed, inside the castle, at the wise precaution of sending me where many of the bravest and the best of the Roman citizens were at that time confined. The city itself was a desert in comparison with the prisons, which were full to overflowing. Had I been allowed to remain unmolested in my own house, I could not have obtained half the success I met with among my fellow-prisoners. Unquestionably I suffered very much in my confinement, separated from my dearest friends, and tormented by the thought of the grief they must feel; but in the midst of these sorrows, I derived consolation from the idea, that the grand work on which I was engaged was, through the grace of God, and the blessing of his Divine providence, steadily advancing. I rejoiced, too, that it was carrying on in Rome, and at the very time, too, when, through foreign compulsion, everything was returning to papacy, and to Pio Nono; who had not only destroyed his own work of liberty, but even the small remains of it that had existed under his predecessors.

At a period when the most horrible slavery was imposed on us through the generosity and consistency of the French nation, I alone remained free; I, the most hated of all, the most detested by the pope and the cardinals, even more so than Mazzini himself, I had the privilege granted me by the representatives of the two governments, to make war against the pope and the papacy, with undiminished advantage and success. And this was all they gained in shutting me up in the fortress of St. Angelo.

Every time they renewed their persecution of me, I think my power increased. I am not a man to be easily put down. In considering myself as a servant of the Lord, I feel as a rock, on which the tempestuous ocean spends its utmost fury in vain.

The severity of my imprisonment denied me the gratification of seeing any of my friends who were at liberty, neither was it in the power of my kind-hearted gaoler to be of service to me in the matter. There were too many doors to pass through; each of them had its own separate turnkey, and it was hopeless to think of conciliating them all. The only person who had hitherto been allowed to visit me was the English consul, Mr. Freeborn, who had, when I was first taken, obtained permission to do so from the French general; but the cardinals interfered afterwards, and gave orders that no permission should be valid except what came from the Inquisition or the pope, so that an end was soon put to his visits.

A deputation from the Evangelical Alliance, composed of my two good friends, Mr. Tonna and M. Meyrueis, the one an English and the other a French gentleman, who were sent to intercede in my behalf, were also, on application to the cardinals, refused admittance. On referring their petition to the pope they were again denied, and I found that I was more rigorously treated after it; more closely confined to my cell, and threatened with even greater severities.

Nevertheless, through the blessing of God, I never before enjoyed such perfect tranquillity of mind; never in society had I been conscious of more cheerfulness, and when I was drawn into conversation I inspired others with the same feeling. I bade them trust in the providence of God, who would restore to his people their rightful liberty. Hence arose a long discussion on this divine attribute. I let every one propose his objections, which it was a pleasure to me to answer. Another time I was consoling one of my companions for the injustice of the tribunal that judged him. "Oh, my friend," said I, "you look for justice from men. Can you expect it from those who do not fear God? Is not justice an attribute of the Deity? No man can be just who departs from God. How then can justice be restored amongst us? Only by regaining the knowledge and faith, the fear and love of God. And what we say of justice may equally be said of truth. There can be no truth among a people, where the pope is exalted into the place of God. From the earliest times he has been a liar, and his lies obtain credence even in other countries, because they emanate from Rome. If we, then, no longer admit them, let us be the first to denounce that popery by which Rome is oppressed and dishonoured."

These discussions could not fail to produce their effect; which was gradually to withdraw those who listened to them from popery, and to lead them unto God, through Christ. The blessing of God is with those who honour Him, and I hope myself to reap the fruits of what I have sown. I relate these things, not to take pride in them as my own work, but as proceeding from the bounty of the Lord. I should not have come to prison by my own choice, but for wise ends it was so decreed by Divine providence.

Whoever views my imprisonment merely as the work of man, sees in it only injustice and cruelty; but those who regard it as the permission of God, discern in it abundant proofs of his wisdom and love. Many a time have I blessed God for the favour He showed me in choosing me to commence the great work which will be redemption to the Romans, and regeneration to all nations. It has commenced, and is now in progress. To carry it on, God has chosen persons who would not have been thought of by us, any more than we should have thought of Galilean fishermen becoming the apostles and promulgators of a doctrine which was to influence the whole world.

The reformation of Rome is entrusted to Romans. On the reformation of Rome depends that of Roman Catholicism. Those who would concur and co-operate in this work must do it by succouring the Romans.

"Do you think," said one of my companions in prison, one day, "our reform will go on? Will Rome ever be reformed? Will Italy ever become protestant?"

"I believe," replied I, "that Rome will be reformed one day, like London, Berlin, Edinburgh and Geneva."

The question whether Italy will ever become protestant was discussed by me one evening, with the Abate Gioberti, at Paris, in December 1847. He referred me to some pages of his 'Modern Jesuit,' in which it is maintained that Italy never will be protestant: I, on the other hand, referred him to history, to the true history of our country, which shows how great has been the tendency towards protestantism in Italy, and what efforts have been made to promote it. I agreed with the learned Abate that the title of Protestant, as expressive of a division, or religious sect, should be avoided. The Italians, and amongst them the Romans, profiting as they ought to do by three centuries' experience of other nations who have abandoned popery, could not properly denominate themselves anything but Christians. Were they once to renounce the pope, none else could impose upon them either doctrine, form, or name. The questions which to this time have agitated protestantism, and which now divide England into various parties—episcopalian and presbyterian—baptist, methodist, &c. &c., would never disturb the peace of Italy. On right principles the Italian church would be organized with great simplicity, and every one left at full liberty to worship God in the manner best suited to his own spiritual views. What I now call the Italian church does not assume to be a national church, with exclusively privileged forms of government; no, it presents itself to Italy as its ancient church, in the unity of faith and spirit; but in diversity of form, government, and modes of worship. Being thus associated with all the Christian churches throughout the world, it would have nothing exclusively Italian but the language.

In these conversations with my friends, I had the satisfaction to think that what was said to few would be repeated to many. What I uttered within the walls of the castle, in a secret cell, was quickly circulated throughout Rome, and spread abroad, making an impression that could not be effaced. In this manner five months of my imprisonment had already passed away, and I was yet left in ignorance of the crime by which it had been incurred.

I had forwarded my protest to the French government, and the strongest remonstrances had been sent to Paris by my dear brethren of the Evangelical Alliance, yet there appeared to be no prospect of my release; but I may say, with sincerity, that since I have consecrated my life to the Christian ministry, so long as I am engaged in its service I am satisfied. I was now in the full exercise of this ministry during my imprisonment, and no one who has heard my narrative can doubt the satisfaction it gave me. Thus far, therefore, I was contented with my situation; and if I could have supposed that the Roman government would not alter it, but that I might continue to pursue the same course, I should in truth have besought both God and men to leave me in it; because I might perhaps have been more useful, imprisoned in Rome, than at full liberty elsewhere.

But the priests were tired of enduring my boldness and audacity. They took it as an insult to them, that I continued in prison to repeat the very same offences for which I had been incarcerated. All my friends declared to me, that I must either be released and sent out of Rome, by the contrivance of foreigners, or that I should be put out of the way altogether, by the priests themselves.

Reflecting on this idea, I began to think whether it was the will of God my life should be sacrificed; but a voice within seemed to tell me—no. I had done too little, as yet, to see my work so soon crowned with success.

It was the 24th of December—a solemn day in Rome, full of kindly feelings as well as of superstitious observances. On this day good wishes are exchanged and presents made amongst friends; favours are granted, and the boon that should then be asked it would be deemed a sin to deny. We prisoners wished happiness to those who opened our doors, and they cheerfully returned our salutations. My good gaoler, full of benevolence, came to me before I had risen.

"Good morning," said he, "and better luck; I bring you good news."

"What news?" said I.

"An order is come from the French general Baraguai d'Hilliers, to let two gentlemen speak with you—undoubtedly two of your friends; and what is still more satisfactory, it is with the consent of the cardinals."

"Do you know the names of these friends of mine?"

"Only one of them, 'Doctor Bambozzi and companion,' so it is written."

"My dear fellow, do you really believe these can be my friends? If they were so, do you think the cardinals would let them speak to me? They did not give this permission to those two who posted all the way from England and France to obtain it. I do not know who Doctor Bambozzi is, and I cannot imagine what he can want with me."

"But if they be not friends, what can they be?"

"Enemies, assuredly. No person sent by the cardinals can have any occasion for an order from a French general."

"It may be a trick—one of those tricks so frequently played off in priestly Rome. Baraguai d'Hilliers does not know the priests; they may be plotting together something to compromise him."

This visit, announced with so much ceremony on Christmas eve, did not take place till the last day of the year. The supposed friends were the Fiscal Judge of the Inquisition, Monsignor Bambozzi, and his Secretary, Avvocato de Dominicis.

Monsignor Bambozzi is one of the most courteous of men. Those who, hearing of the Fiscal Judge of the Inquisition, might picture to themselves an austere man, with a crafty sinister air, would find they were quite mistaken in their idea. No, he is a very polite little man, a sacristan priest, paying compliments to everybody, always smiling, with his snuff-box in his hand ever ready to offer a pinch. The other was a poor needy-looking personage, with nothing unfavourable in his aspect, and evidently following his occupation to earn his bread.

I was first desired to give an exact description of myself. The prelate then made a sign to the other to write, and began to dictate to him in Latin.

"A certain man (homo quidam) appeared before me declaring himself to be—What is your name?"

I told him my name, my age, &c. He went on:—

"Giacinto Achilli, son of —— born at —— aged —— &c., dressed," (here followed the description of my dress from head to foot)—"confined in this prison, &c.; being asked if he knows why he is detained in prison, answers ——Answer this question.

"'It is what I wish to know. I have been six months confined here, and have never yet been told, nor do I know the cause of my imprisonment.'

"Interrogated whether he knows under what tribunal he is now examined, answers—

"'It is what I wish to know.'

"And being told that he is examined by the magistrates of the Holy Roman Universal Apostolical Inquisition, answers—

"'I am glad of it. Speak frankly.'

"Admonished to tell the truth, and to recognise in this fact the justice of God and not the vengeance of man, he replied to the first part—

"'I promise to tell the truth:' on the second he was silent."

At this juncture, Monsignor Bambozzi drew out a quire of paper, covered with writing, and began to read the first page; from which I perceived it was the minute taken down the second day of my imprisonment, by a judge of the cardinal-vicar's: consisting of a general interrogatory on the whole of my life—that is to say, my education, my studies, my public functions, my occupations, my journeys, and especially that to the Ionian Islands, Malta, England, &c., till my return to Rome; what I had done during the Roman Republic, and finishing with my imprisonment. All this confronted anew with numerous questions, formed the subject of my first interview with Monsignor Bambozzi and his companion.

In a moment the news resounded through St. Angelo, that the judges of the Inquisition were come, with the special permission of the French authorities, to take possession of me. The indignation this intelligence excited was great; and was expressed in no very measured terms, against both the priests and the French. I smiled amidst the universal excitement; but I may safely say I was the only one who did so.

Four days afterwards the judge and his companion were again announced; and I had to submit to a fresh and very long interrogatory, carried on like the former one in Latin.

First, as to why I had abandoned the Order of the Dominicans, from which I had received, even up to the latest moment that I was connected with it, the greatest proofs of esteem and good-will; insomuch, that I had been promoted, whilst yet in my youth, to posts so high and important that they were difficult to be obtained even by the aged.

Secondly, why I had afterwards abandoned the ministry of the Roman Church, my theological functions, the mass, and other religious duties; thus showing myself thankless and ungrateful for the education I had received, and for the interest taken in me at Rome?

Thirdly, what complaint I had to make, if any, of the lenient correction I received on my being summoned before the Inquisition in 1842, the sole object of which was to recall me to the right path?

Fourthly, and lastly, why I had left Rome, and quitted Italy altogether, to take refuge in Protestant countries; thus making myself a public subject of conversation, to the scandal of my best friends, and the fearful injury of my own soul?

To these questions I calmly and briefly replied—

First, that with regard to leaving the Dominicans I had been induced to do so from motives of conscience, though I still retained a grateful remembrance of all the kindnesses I had received from them; and that what I had done was with the full permission and licence of Pope Gregory XVI.

Secondly, that it was equally from motives of conscience I had left the ministry of the Roman Church.

Thirdly, that far from bringing any complaint against the Inquisition, I had quietly resigned to it all the charges of the ministry, testifying thereby to every one who might be willing to understand me, that from that time I intended no longer to be connected with the Church of Rome in any way whatsoever, regarding myself as subject to no one, in matters of faith, save God alone. Fourthly, that my leaving Rome, and Italy altogether, was the natural result of the steps I had previously taken; that whether I went to the English or Spanish dominions, or any other, could be a matter of consequence to no one, provided I lived an upright life, wherever I might be; and as I felt conscious that this had been the case hitherto, I did not consider myself called upon to render an account of my actions to any man.

I had reserved to myself a more lengthened and argumentative conversation, when Monsignor Bambozzi should enter upon the question of matters of faith; he not only, however, left that subject untouched upon, but even turned it aside when I endeavoured to lead his attention towards it: nay, he went so far as to order the gaoler to let me take the air every day, for about a quarter of an hour, on the terrace of the castle, saying that he was quite satisfied with me, and that we were perfectly agreed. Yet how he could imagine we were so, when my opinions had been diametrically opposed to his, and all my answers a direct rebuff to his questions, I cannot understand. The fact is, that the Inquisition has always been about as anxious after truth, for its own sake, as Pontius Pilate was, in the presence of the Lord.

Both my judge and his companion, however, upon taking leave of me this second time, shook hands with me, saying, that I should see them again shortly.

Eight days elapsed, when I was once more asked for. "It is Bambozzi," cried my fellow-prisoners; and I went down stairs laughing, in the expectation of seeing him again; but in his place I beheld a priest of the Oratory, alone. He was full of compliments and civilities, on our meeting; and I asked him at once his name, and the cause of his visit; for as soon as he opened his mouth, I perceived by his accent that he was not an Italian. He replied that he had come to see me purely out of good-will; and showed me his name in the title-page of a book: "Dr. Augustine Theiner, of Prussian Silesia, Professor of Ecclesiastical History in the College of the Propaganda in Rome." He went on to say that he was grieved to find me in such a situation, but that still all might turn out for the best, if I would only be teachable towards God, and the Holy Mother of the Roman Catholic church. This at once brought us to the question, whether the Roman church alone had a right to be called Catholic? I maintained that it was a church, but not the church, and by logical consequence could not be called universal, for the simple reason that Rome was not the whole world:—that the Pope was Bishop of the Roman church alone, and not of the Catholic church; the proof being that many hundreds of bishops exist in the church, some dependent upon, and others independent of Rome; without reckoning all those Christian churches which pride themselves on having no other bishop than Him mentioned by Peter: "For ye were as sheep going astray, but are now returned unto the Shepherd and Bishop of your souls."[123]

He asked me, smiling, what my church was? I told him it was that of which St. Paul speaks:[124] "The general assembly and church of the First-born which are written in heaven." To a few other questions I replied to the same purport. He exhorted me to read his book, printed by the Propaganda, in which he had shown me his name; and then took his leave.

This book is a "History of the Reformation in Sweden," written, it would appear, on purpose to blacken the fame of those staunch Reformers, the good King Gustavus and the excellent Oloff Peterson; and to have the opportunity of using every description of epithets, the most offensive he could find, against Luther. It has had the honour, as the author told me, of being translated into French by M. de Montalembert, and into English by Dr. Newman, who is also become a priest of the Oratory. A second and third visit from Dr. Theiner, who came to me with other books of his own writing, which he earnestly requested me to read, were occupied with continual questions on the Roman church; he resting upon certain passages of the holy Fathers, to prove that it is the Catholic church, and I upon passages from the Fathers also, to show that what they called Catholic, was the Roman church together with all others, those only excepted which deviated from the teaching of the Holy Scriptures, and from the faith of Christ,—the Roman Church being so different in our days, and especially since the Council of Trent, from what it was in those of the holy Fathers, that if they were now living they would be the first to protest against it, and to separate from it; that before the present Roman church could be called Christian, a reformation in it was indispensable; the Jewish and the Pagan elements being so mixed up with both its doctrines and worship, that there hardly remains in it a shade of primitive Christianity: that let but the pope undertake this reformation, we would be with him, otherwise we must remain separated; nor should his threats terrify us, nor his Inquisition rob the Christians of Italy of their faith or their union; that I had shown an example to the brethren how to propagate in this country the pure and simple doctrine of Christ; that the Bible, and the Bible alone, was sufficient to destroy the whole edifice of the pope; and that on the day when I saw reprinted in Rome the New Testament in Italian, and moreover beheld the avidity with which the Romans received it, I exclaimed, "The death-knell of the Papacy is sounded."

My heart almost leaped out of my breast with joy, at having been able, in the prisons of the Roman Inquisition, to render this testimony to the truth and to the religion of Jesus Christ.

"I am as happy as possible now," I said to several of those good friends who were with me in prison, and who asked me every time they saw me how I got on with the papal theologian. "I am only afraid that, feeling how firm I am, Padre Theiner may discontinue his visits, and tell the cardinals and the pope that every attempt to bring me back to the Roman church is useless."

He had in fact, at his second visit, shown me a letter of the Cardinal-Vicar, in which he appointed him, by the pope's desire, to come to me under the guise of a visitor, to hold conferences with me, and to discover some way of recovering me to the faith.

At the end of each visit, however, I had always requested him to report faithfully everything I had said to him; adding that every day I felt more and more firm and fixed in my purpose; and that if it should please God that I should be released from prison, I should, with the aid of His Holy Spirit, continue my mission with all the more vigour, from perceiving by His having conferred on me the grace of being allowed to suffer six months' incarceration for His name's sake, that it could not be otherwise than acceptable in His sight.

At the same time, I bade him, and the pope and cardinals likewise, to remember, that the persecution to which I had been subjected could not be approved or justified even by Roman Catholics themselves; and that if it had no other effect, it would at least have the most desirable one of ultimately working the abolition of the Roman Inquisition, never more to be restored.

Padre Theiner and I were, on this third visit, in the full fervour of our controversial arguments, when the captain of the castle came to inform me that two chasseurs de Vincennes were arrived to take me to the French Council of War, to give evidence in the trial of Signor Cernuschi, Deputy of the people, under the Republic.

How I, separated as I was, and had been for six months, from the rest of the world, by a decree emanating from the Inquisition, could be summoned by a foreign authority to appear before a military tribunal, was what I could not comprehend; and my theologian was still more astonished at it than I was. The captain added that he had the permission of the Cardinal-Vicar. "Let us go, in the name of the Lord," was my thought.

Padre Theiner accompanied me to the carriage, I got in, and two soldiers, armed with carbines, took their places by me, one on each side. The tribunal was held at the Ecclesiastical Academy in the Piazza Minerva, the great institution of the Dominicans, who were, as I have already stated, the founders of the Inquisition; and I have often reflected since upon the retributive justice of Providence, in appointing that very place for the sitting of the tribunal which was to break down the power of that villanous establishment, by setting one of its victims free, to disclose its iniquities to the world.

The Capitaine Rapporteur was alone; he put a few questions to me concerning Cernuschi; and said certain things to me, which I forbear to mention; as well as some other things of little import to any one but myself; for fear of causing trouble to parties still remaining in Rome, and consequently subjected to the treacheries and basenesses of a government at this present moment one of the most tyrannical, and at the same time the most degraded, in Europe. I was then remanded to the castle.

The next day, the 19th of January, Dr. Theiner again called upon me, and we recommenced our discussions with more animation than ever. Our subject was the bishopric of St. Peter at Rome, and the privilege of succession bequeathed by him to the pope; he intent on demonstrating, I on confuting it. Our arguments lasted till nearly dark, and no doubt would have lasted longer still, as we were neither of us inclined to cut the matter short, had they not been suddenly interrupted by the entrance of the gaoler, with the information that the two chasseurs were come again to take me to the Military Commission.

I held out my hand to my disputant. "Farewell!" said I to him, "farewell, Padre Theiner; offer my respects to the Cardinal-Vicar, and thank him from me for your visits; I assure you they have given me real pleasure. I hope we may both of us derive profit from them, and be confirmed by them, more and more, in the word of God."

I again pressed his hand, and then got into the carriage, and seated myself between the two soldiers.

This time my vehicle was an open one, and as it traversed the long way from the Castle of St. Angelo to the Piazza della Minerva, I saw and was seen by many persons. I was regarded with curiosity. It was, indeed a singular spectacle to behold a prisoner of the Inquisition under the guard of the French Republic.

I found the Capitaine Rapporteur even more conciliatory in his deportment towards me than he was before, and I felt persuaded that he entertained a personal sympathy towards me. I will not, however, repeat our conversation. I will only say that it cheered me greatly, and made me feel so thoroughly as if I were my own master, that I determined to try if it could really be the case.

I walked into an ante-chamber, where I saw several sets of military garbs and accoutrements. In a moment I found myself in the uniform of a French soldier. I proceeded towards the doors on the landing; they were open; not a single individual anywhere to be seen, to oppose my egress. It was half after five in the evening, consequently dusk. I did what any one else, I suppose, in my situation would have done, and I did it with a smile of confidence and joy. I descended into the Piazza della Minerva, passed through the Strada Pie-di-Marmo, the Piazza del Collegio Romano, and walked down the Corso, in my military garb. Unrecognised, uninterrupted, I arrived at a place where I changed my dress. Here I found money prepared for me; a passport and a carriage with post-horses were soon ready, and at seven in the evening I beheld myself beyond the walls of Rome!

I offered up my thanksgiving to the Lord, and implored his blessing upon my country, my brethren, and the infant church, which will one day shine forth in all the lustre of truth, so that it may again be said of the Romans, that "their faith is spoken of throughout the whole world."

In six hours after leaving Rome I arrived at Civita Vecchia, where I rested till morning. I then delivered several letters, and afterwards went on board a French steamer of war. The whole of that day I passed in port, engaged, the greatest portion of it, in returning my grateful thanks to my Almighty Father, and praying to Him to provide for me in all respects. I likewise, finding I had an opportunity of getting it posted, wrote a farewell letter to my brethren in Rome.

The next day we sailed for Toulon, whence I proceeded to Marseilles, and thence to Lyons; where I stopped a day, to embrace my excellent friend, Mr. Fisch, and other brethren, who felt as if they could not bless and thank the Lord enough, for my unexpected liberation. In Paris I was greeted with the same rejoicings. Oh, what enjoyments has the Christian life, even in this world! In my own case all that I have suffered now seems sweet and delightful to me. It is indeed to my body like a dream; but to my spirit it is a precious and enduring reality. Never, I hope, shall I forget the gratitude, which, under God, I owe to the brethren of the Evangelical Alliance, who have indeed set an example with regard to myself, of the most edifying Christian charity.

At Paris I laid aside my incognito, which in fact was of no use to me after I embarked at Civita Vecchia; but the French government, through whose assistance I had escaped, stipulated that I should not resume my own name before I reached Paris. It was consequently my duty to obey. Several among the old ministry assured me that they would have gladly lent me their services, had they been in power; but as that was not the case, they rejoiced in seeing it done by others: they seemed indeed to be of opinion that the way in which my liberation had been effected, was the only one that could have been adopted to avoid a dispute with the Pontifical government; that, on the other hand, had I been suffered to remain in prison, it would have been a lasting disgrace to France, to have it said that the power of the Inquisition was restored and upheld through her medium; they added that if assistance had not been afforded me at an earlier period, it was only because it had been given out that I was confined on account of moral delinquencies, and not for my religious tenets.

"And I," said the ex-minister, "was one of the first to be misled by these charges; but when they were all proved to be malignant inventions, brought forward only to injure you, there was but one wish on the subject, and that was to see you set at liberty."

Notwithstanding this flattering testimony of the ex-minister, I have no doubt there were many, even among the French, who would much rather I had remained in the power of the Inquisition; the Jesuit party especially, among whom were several members of the National Assembly, were loud in their outcries against me, and renewed in their journals their old calumnies, which had so often been answered before, and to which the act of the government itself, in liberating me, was more than a sufficient reply.

I shall not here relate all the kindness and affection I experienced on the part of my friends, on again seeing me among them. One of the first visits I made was to our dear brother in the Lord, the Pastor Frederic Monod, who retained me under his roof all the time I remained at Paris. I had scarcely sent in my name, when the whole of his numerous family came out to welcome me, and fervent were the praises and thanksgivings that were offered up by them to the Giver of all good, who had delivered me from the hand of my enemies, and from them that sought to destroy my soul.

"Come," said my good friend, "let us go to my brother Adolph's; our friends are met together there on your account; they have not yet heard of your liberation, and are at this very time consulting together on the best means to adopt, in order to influence the government in your behalf."

We accordingly proceeded together to the house. Frederic entered first, while I remained at the door. "Brethren," he exclaimed, "before you proceed any further in your deliberations, you will rejoice to learn what a signal favour it has pleased heaven to grant. Our brother Achilli has, through the mercy of God, without any assistance of ours, been released from his imprisonment. He is now in France; he has arrived in Paris, and is actually at the door of this very house; he is come to salute you, and to offer up conjointly with yourselves his thanksgivings to the Lord."

At this moment I entered, and great was the joy with which I was received by these dear brethren. After we had returned thanks for the great mercies we had experienced, I, following the example of St. Peter, "beckoning unto them with the hand to hold their peace, declared unto them how the Lord had brought me out of the prison."

I had now only one thing wanting to complete my contentment, which was the restoration to me of my dear partner, the sweet solace of my troubles, and the sharer of my hopes. And this additional blessing was soon granted to me. At the time of my leaving Rome, my wife was at Florence; but as soon as she heard of my arrival at Paris, she set off to rejoin me, under the protection of some friends.

About the middle of February we returned together, after a most eventful year's absence, to England; where, ever since my arrival, I have received the same, and even increased tokens of regard and interest in my welfare, that I had done before, and of which I shall always retain the most grateful remembrance. Nevertheless I view my mission as inseparably connected with my native country; to resume my labours there, sooner or later, in the establishment of a reformed Italian Church, is the holy ambition of my heart, the unceasing object of my prayers. Meanwhile I endeavour to preserve the germ of it alive, by celebrating Divine worship, "pure and undefiled before God," and imparting religious instruction on the Sabbath, and at fit seasons, to as many of my unfortunate fellow-refugees, and others of my countrymen, as show themselves desirous of it; trusting that "what is sown in tears may be reaped in joy," and that the great "Lord of the harvest" may be pleased to send His labourers therein, and to bless their efforts and their hopes.

[121] Matt. x. 42.