CHAPTER XV.

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 Cœnæ?"

"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_.

FOOTNOTES:

[101] Romans viii. 29.

[102] These walls were thrown down during the Republic, so that at

present the Inquisition can be seen on every side.

[103] A third Edition of this work has been recently published in

London, by the Religious Tract Society, for the benefit of the Italians

in England.

[104] _Vide_ Appendix. Reply to the Allocution of Pius IX., in the

Consistory of Gaeta, 20th April, 1849, published at Rome during the

last days of the Republic, and circulated there after the entry of the

French troops.

[105] Mark x. 51.

[106] John v. 7.

[107] The Penitentiaries of the four principal Basilicas of Rome hold a

long rod or wand, in sign of their extended power to absolve even the

most enormous crimes.

[108] Acts xvi. 31.

[109] Matt. xvi. 19.

[110] Matt. xviii. 21.

[111] Matt. xiii. 11.

[112] Matt. xviii. 18.

[113] John xx. 22, 23.

[114] 1 Tim. iv. 3.

[115] Matt. xxvi. 33.

[116] Matt. xxvi. 35.

[117] Matt. xvi. 21.

[118] Matt. xvi. 23.

[119] Galat. ii. 11.

[120] There are also dungeons underground, so horrible that no one

has been known to survive in them more than a few days; they are like

wells, completely dark, and wet. But these are no longer made use of.