To persons accustomed to theological studies, it is sufficiently apparent why each proposition of the "Syllabus" stands condemned. To others, cause is shown in the consistorial allocutions, Encyclical and other letters apostolical of the Holy Father, in relation to each proposition. Some things must be interpreted by the conduct of the Pope himself. For instance, what is said in regard to the liberty of public worship and of the press must be read in the light of that reasonable tolerance which the Popes were accustomed to exercise when they ruled at Rome as sovereign Princes. There is no liberty without some restraint. The press, in this respect, is in the same position as individuals. According to the laws of all civilized lands, when it abuses its liberty and commits crime, it is visited with severe punishment. The greater liberty which the press enjoys, and must enjoy, in the present circumstances of the world, by no means clashes with the condemnation of proposition 79 of the "Syllabus." The press can no more be free to publish anything whatsoever, however offensive it may be, than persons are free to perform such acts as necessarily subject them, even in states where there is the greatest attainable degree of liberty, to condemnation and punishment. If every organized community possesses, as it certainly does possess, the right so to stigmatize an offending citizen, and that without any violation of liberty, it is equally entitled to judge and punish an offending press.

(M99) Not satisfied with the blow which so greatly weakened Austria in the Italian campaign, Napoleon III. plotted with Prussia for a further humbling of the great Catholic Power. To this end he held dark consultations with Count Bismark, at Biarritz, as he had formerly done with Count de Cavour at Plombieres. The former, however, proved to be more than a match for him. Hence the great victory of Sadowa which paved the way for Sedan. Prussia, without a rival in Germany, could freely pursue her ambitious schemes. Napoleon, apparently suspecting nothing, left the Rhine frontier comparatively unprotected; and Prussia, victorious in the struggle with Austria, refused to France all compensation for her complicity and encouragement. This hindered not Napoleon from taking part in the treaty of Prague, as president, and sanctioning by his signature the expulsion of Austria from Germany, and the confiscation of Hanover, Nassau, the two Hesses and other small independent sovereignties, in the interest of Prussia. This Power, besides, assumed the military direction of Southern Germany, and so was, literally, doubled in extent and population. Thus was swept away in the course of seven years, through the agency of Napoleon III., the barrier of small states which the wisdom of ages had placed along the continental frontier of France, from the Mediterranean to the ocean, and which moderated the shocks of the greater Powers. France, accordingly, by her own act, was confined between unified Italy on the one hand, and on the other, the formidable German Empire.

In exchange for combinations which proved so disastrous, Venice was ceded to Napoleon, and immediately made over by him to Italy. Defeated both by sea and land in his struggle with Austria, Victor Emmanuel, nevertheless, accepted the present, as if it had come to him by conquest, and Italy was free to the Adriatic, and the celebrated Milan programme of 1859 completely carried out. This result, whilst it flattered the vanity of Napoleon III., crowned the wishes of the secret societies. Protestants, Jews, Freemasons, and people of all shades of unbelief, deputies of the French left, and the revolutionary journals, all zealous in the service of Prussia, enthusiastically applauded. The French Emperor's ministers, even, M. Rouher, in the Legislative Chamber, and M. de Lavalette, in a diplomatic circular, were not ashamed to congratulate themselves publicly on the stipulations of the treaty of Prague. In their mania for Italian unity, these wise statesmen became blind to the interests of their own country—condign punishment, surely, of their disloyal and unprincipled policy.

(M100) Whilst the political world was extraordinarily agitated, and a great potentate was endeavoring to destroy the last remnant of Papal sovereignty, and was himself at the same time, hastening blindly but surely to ignominy and ruin, the Pontiff against whom he warred calmly and successfully continued to accomplish the sublime work of his spiritual mission.

(M101) Nothing tends more to the instruction and edification of the Catholic people than the canonization of saints and martyrs. But for the care which the church bestows in bringing to light the acts and sufferings of those heroes of the Christian faith, many of them, remaining unknown, would be lost as examples to the rest of mankind. It is also due to the saints themselves that the church should honor them, although, indeed, earthly celebrity and true fame which lasts throughout all time is as nothing compared to the glory which they enjoy. John Baptist de Rossi (de Rubaes) was a canon of the Collegiate Basilica of Saint Mary, in cosmedin. The venerable John Baptist de Rossi was in every respect a worthy minister of God. He labored last century at Rome, in the vineyard of the Lord, with so much, patience, longanimity and meekness, and was so filled with the Holy Ghost and sincere charity, that he spent his whole life in evangelizing the poor, to the great gain of souls. He instructed others unto righteousness, and God willed that he should shine for evermore as a star in the firmament. And not only was he crowned with light in heaven, in order that, transformed to the Divine image, he should appear in God's presence environed with heavenly splendor; but God, through His unspeakable bounty, appointed that His servant, enriched by an abundant harvest of merits, illustrated by triumphal honors, and glorified by miracles, should also enjoy upon earth a name glorious in the estimation of mankind, and should thus be a new ornament to the church militant. The process of canonization was commenced in the time of Gregory XVI., and completed by Pius IX., when in March, 1859, the name of John Baptist de Rossi was inscribed on the sacred diptychs.

(M102) John Sarcander was born at Skoczovia, in Upper Silesia, in the year 1577. He obeyed the call of God and joined the ranks of the priesthood. When ordained priest, he showed himself in every way a pattern of excellence—by his good works, his science, the integrity and gravity of his character. He was appointed, accordingly, to the charge and guidance of souls. He fulfilled so well all the duties of a good pastor that the four parishes to which he was successively called by episcopal authority received him as an angel sent to them from heaven, and bore witness by their tears to their regret when they were deprived of his presence. Meanwhile, the ministers of the sect of Pikardites were driven from the parish of Holleschow, where the scourge of heresy, like the wild boar of the forests, had spread devastation during eight years. John Sarcander was selected in order to repair the incalculable evil that had been done to that unfortunate vineyard. He shrunk not from the struggle which it behooved him to maintain in the cause of the true faith. He was in every sense an example to his flock. He exhorted, beseeched, reprimanded with patience and wisdom, neglecting nothing that was calculated to strengthen whatever was weak and heal what was sick, to reunite those who were separated, to raise up the fallen and seek such as were astray. Such exemplary conduct only excited the extreme hatred of the heretical party, and he was obliged to leave Holleschow and retire to Poland. But moved by the dangers to which were exposed the people whom he loved so dearly in Christ, he returned to his parish, after having venerated the Holy Virgin at her shrine of Crenstochow, in fulfilment of a vow which he had made. Soon after his return the heretics cast him into prison as a traitor to his country, but, in reality, on account of his zeal in preaching the Catholic faith. He was subjected to vigorous interrogatories, and in order to induce him to reveal what the supreme head of the administration in Moravia had confided to him in confession, he was made to undergo the most exquisite torture. Preferring a glorious death to a miserable life, he combated to his last breath for the work of Christ, and gave up his soul to God, leaving to all the people the remembrance of his death as an example of fortitude and courage. Fearfully tortured on the rack for three hours, burned slowly in almost every part of his body, by torches and bundles of feathers steeped in rosin, oil, pitch and sulphur, he was carried back almost lifeless to his prison. There he lingered a whole month, suffering more than the pain of death, whilst his mind and heart were so fixed on God that he ceased not to sing His praises as long as life remained. He fell asleep in the Lord, the sixteenth of the calends of April, 1620. It was not appointed that such heroic suffering should be doomed to oblivion. Public report, the witness of contemporary writers, the monuments of the time, and the splendor of miracles caused them to be so celebrated that, notwithstanding the wars, losses and other impediments which had prevented the Archbishops of Olmutz from considering this grand and beautiful cause, and reporting it to the Holy See sooner than the 18th century, the sanctity and martyrdom of the venerable John Sarcander were not only known to the populations of Moravia and the neighboring countries, but were also remembered with the most profound veneration. From 1754 till the time of Pius IX., this celebrated cause was before the church, and subjected to the usual searching investigation. Finally, in February, 1859, it was concluded, and the blessed John Sarcander recognized, as a saint and martyr, by the universal church.

(M103) This same year, 1859, was canonized the venerable servant of God, Benedict Joseph Labre, of the diocese of Boulogne. Voluntary poverty was the lot in life of this saint of modern times. Worldly wisdom condemns as folly, the choice of this devoted Christian who preferred to all earthly advantages the most abject poverty. God is, indeed, wonderful in His saints; and as He often chooses what is folly in the estimation of the world, in order to confound what it holds to be wise, so He appointed that the humble Labre who, for the love of Christ, led a life of poverty, and taught mankind the excellence of self-denial in an unbelieving and selfish age, should be exalted, even upon earth, and ranked among the princes of God's people. In June, 1842, Gregory XVI. declared, by a solemn decree, that Benedict Joseph Labre had practised, in a heroic degree, all the Christian virtues. The necessary investigations and formalities were continued, and in September, 1859, Pius IX. ordained that apostolic letters should be issued, ordering the celebration of the solemn rite of his beatification in the Patriarchal Basilica of the Vatican.

(M104) The year 1859 was also marked by the solicitude of Pius IX. for the Church of Ireland. In a letter to the archbishops and bishops of that country, he commends their zeal in promoting Catholic education, and concurs with them in pointing out the dangers of mixed schools. In the same letter the Holy Father earnestly entreats the venerable pastors of the Irish Church to pray that the designs of the wicked may not succeed, that it would please God to bring to naught the machinations of those misguided men who, by their false teachings, endeavor to corrupt the people everywhere, and to overthrow, if that were possible, the Catholic religion. At the same time, it was appointed that the feast of Saint Patrick, the Patron Saint of Ireland, should be celebrated according to a higher rite.

(M105) The anti-President Juarez had succeeded in establishing himself at Vera Cruz, whilst Miramon was recognized by Mexico, after General Zuloago, as the successor of Santa Anna. Juarez was a revolutionist and persecutor of the church; Miramon, a conservative and friend of religion. As proof of the tyranny of the former, may be cited a decree which he published in July of this year (1859). This decree, which aimed at nothing less than the destruction of religion, and was, at the same time, a cruel outrage on the Catholic nation of Mexico, accounts for the earnestness and determination with which Pius IX., a little later, as has already been shown, insisted that the Emperor Maximilian should adopt a policy friendly to the church, and in harmony with the wishes of the great majority of the Mexican people. Such policy, if only followed in time, would have so strengthened the hands of Maximilian that, in all probability, he would have been able to hold his ground when most unchivalrously abandoned by his faint-hearted ally. No doubt the anti-president claimed that he was a reformer of the church. And surely, indeed, he was, if it was reform to suppress all religious societies whatsoever, to rob the clergy of their property, and that so completely as to reduce them to mendicancy. But let the decree speak for itself:

Art. 1. All property administered under divers titles, by the regular or secular clergy, whether real or personal, whatever its name or object, is henceforth the property of the nation.

Art. 3. There shall be complete independence between affairs of state and such as are purely ecclesiastical. The government will confine itself to protecting the public worship of the Catholic religion the same as any other religion.

Art. 4. The ministers of religion can accept such offerings as may be made on account of the administration of the sacraments and the other duties of their office. They may also, by an agreement with those who employ them, stipulate for remuneration for their services. But in no case can these offerings or this remuneration be converted into permanent property.

Art. 5. All religious orders, whatever their name or their object, are suppressed throughout the whole republic, as well as confraternities or associations connected with a religious community or any church whatsoever.

The 6th article, whilst it prohibits the erection of new convents and new confraternities, forbids also the use of the religious habit.

THE EIGHTEENTH CENTENARY OF THE MARTYRDOM OF SS. PETER AND PAUL.

A new joy awaited the Holy Father. The year 1867 will be ever memorable in sacred annals, as the year of the great centennial celebration of the glorious martrydom of SS. Peter and Paul. "Peter went to Rome," St. Jerome writes, "in the second year of the Emperor Claudius, and occupied there the priestly chair for twenty-five years." On the same venerable authority it is known that Peter suffered two years after the death of the great Roman philosopher, Seneca, who was executed by order of Nero in the sixty-fifth year of the Christian era. In the same work (de viris illustribus), St. Jerome says that SS. Peter and Paul were put to death in the fourteenth year of Nero's reign, which corresponds with the sixty-seventh year of our era, when reckoned from the first of January, and not from the 13th October, the date of Nero's accession.

The French troops had scarcely been withdrawn from Rome in fulfilment of the September agreement, when Pius IX. invited all the clergy and people of the Catholic world to visit the city in order to participate in the celebration of the centenary, and witness the canonization of several holy persons long since deceased. Their names were Josaphat, the martyr Archbishop of Solotsk; Pedro de Arbues, an Augustinian friar; the martyrs of Gorcum; Paul of the Cross, founder of the Passionists; Leonardo di Porto Maurizio; Maria Francesca, a Neapolitan of the third order of St. Peter of Alcantara, and Germaine Cousin, of the diocese of Toulouse. Shortly before, in the preceding December, the Holy Father enjoyed the great happiness of celebrating, with even more than ordinary solemnity, the beatification of the Franciscan Monk, Benedict of Urbino, who died in odor of sanctity, at Fossombrone, in 1625, within a few miles of Sinigaglia, the birthplace of the Pope, leaving the whole country bordering on the Adriatic and the province of Umbria in a manner embalmed by a life of sanctity and extraordinary self-denial. Pius IX., from early youth, was familiar with the history of this saint, whose noble birth and distinguished abilities opened to him the way to worldly fame and prosperity, but who, nevertheless, chose the cross, becoming a Capuchin, and having no other ambition in the seclusion of the cloister than to be a worthy disciple of his crucified Saviour.

It was by no means to indulge his own pious feelings, or to gratify the clergy and Catholic people, that the venerable Pontiff invited so many from Italy and all parts of the Christian world to take part with him in celebrating these canonizations, and, at the same time, the eighteen hundredth anniversary of the martyrdom of the blessed Apostles, the founders of the Church. His object was to edify, to place in contrast with, and in opposition to, the worldly and unbelieving spirit of the time the teachings and the solemn offices of religion, together with the power of holiness, so admirably shown forth in the lives and glory of the saints. The revolution aimed at nothing less than the destruction of everything spiritual. It was good for it to be taught that true spirituality is beyond its reach.

It would hardly be fair to contrast as purely worldly the grand exposition at Paris, the World's Fair, with the religious celebrations at Rome. The rich and varied display of the objects of art and industry, in the beautiful capital of France, was the result of an advanced Christian civilization. It was recognized as such by the greatest statesmen, the ablest men of science, and the wisest rulers of the age. No doubt it savored more of the world and of things worldly than the festivals at Rome. But the holy city bore it no grudge. It was other powers and other arts than those which furnished out so grandly the Parisian exposition against which Rome waged perpetual war. A Roman, let it not be forgotten, and not the least pious among the Romans, the illustrious scientist, Father Secchi, whose recent decease the world laments, took the highest honors at the great industrial and artistic fair.

Paris, indeed, was in contrast with Rome, but more by its materialist philosophy than by its magnificent exhibition of material improvements. This philosophy availed itself of the exposition in order to show to what extent it prevailed; and Paris extolled mere worldly power, luxury, comfort and voluptuousness, whilst Rome had no praise but for humility, poverty, self-denial, chastity. Paris applauded Alexander II., who massacred the Poles; Rome, on the other hand, did honor to a Polish bishop, Joseph Kunicievicz, who was cruelly murdered by Russian fanaticism. Paris celebrated the apotheosis of free-thinking and religious indifference; Rome, on the contrary, heaped honors on an Inquisitor, Peter d'Arbues, who suffered martyrdom. Paris was loud in her acclamations to the potentates and conquerors of the day, whilst Rome exalted an humble shepherdess, Germaine Cousin, and some poor and obscure monks who were hanged by heretics three hundred years ago, in a small town of Holland. Yet was not Paris distinguished only by material glories, nor was Rome altogether free from the taint of modern worldliness. There were those in the latter city who, in the midst of an atmosphere of pious thought, plotted deeds of diabolic wickedness, whilst Paris, which honored the arts, was not without sympathy at Rome, and her prelates, the bishops of France, were far from being the least among those five hundred high dignitaries, twenty thousand priests of God's Church, and more than one hundred and fifty thousand Christian people from all quarters of the known world, who took part in celebrating the glorious centenary and the no less glorious victory of more than two hundred martyrs. The display of art, industry and modern improvements of very kind presented, indeed, in the midst of the beautiful French capital, a magnificent and cheering sight. It was nothing, however, to the moral spectacle afforded by the presence of ten or twelve mighty sovereigns around the now Imperial author of the coup d'etat. It was supremely worldly. Who would then have said that William of Prussia, and Napoleon III., the Czar of Russia, and the successor of the caliphs, who, at the exhibition fetes, joined hands in apparent friendship, were so soon to be engaged in deadly strife? and that that capital, where so many great potentates came to honor Napoleon, should, in a year or two, know him no more, and even struggle with all the energy of desperation to obliterate every vestige of the improvements with which he had so enriched and beautified the city? This was the world; for the world is insincere. This was the world; for the figure thereof passeth quickly away.

In Rome it was not so. There art and religion walked hand in hand. Religion fostered art. Art was dutiful, and repaid the boon. It became the handmaid of religion. Everywhere within the walls of her temples were seen the products of art's filial labor, in sculpture, painting, poetry and music, her inexhaustible treasury of thought and history ever presenting new sources of artistic power to the hand of genius. Those temples themselves being, indeed, the finest monuments of architecture, bear glorious witness to the excellent union of art and religion. Worldliness, on the other hand, when at the height of its passion against religion, seeks to destroy all the creations of art and genius. It aims at nothing less than to reduce mankind to the condition of the savage, and is not ashamed to acknowledge that such is its aim.

Let us hear the testimony of the Roman artists. This body, on the one hand, rejoiced in the coming celebration of the centenary; on the other, they were filled with sad forebodings as to the approaching downfall of the Papal sovereignty by the threats of Garibaldi and the predictions of Mazzini. They resolved, therefore, whilst yet the Pope, who, like his predecessors, had shown them much kindness, and munificently rewarded their labors, reigned at Rome, to present to him a dutiful and affectionate address, which should remain, in time to come, as a testimony of their gratitude to that beneficent sovereignty which they had but too much reason to fear would soon come to an end. This address is so important and tells so much truth, that it is deserving of a place in all histories. It is as follows: "Most Holy Father, religion, policy and mere human wisdom have protested in favor of the temporal power of the Papacy. The arts come, in their turn, to lay their homage at the feet of your Holiness, and to proclaim to the world that this power is to them indispensable. Their voice must be heard and listened to. For when the tide of generations recedes, the arts remain as the irrefutable witnesses of the power and splendor of the civilization amid which these generations lived. The sovereigns who encourage and develop them acquire immortal renown; those who neglect or oppress them meet only with the contempt of posterity. What royal dynasty has in this respect deserved so well of civilization and humanity as that of the Sovereign Pontiffs? They have been the watchful guardians of the master-pieces bequeathed to us by antiquity. They have given these a home in their own palaces to show that religion adopts and ennobles all that is truly beautiful. It is the Sovereign Pontiffs who, by opening new avenues for modern art, have brought it to the point of perfection, embodied in the master-pieces of Raphael and Michael Angelo. They alone support in Rome that unique assemblage of all that is beautiful in every order, that splendid intellectual galaxy in whose light the artists of every land are formed. Holy Father, the little spot of earth which the revolution has not yet taken from you is the only place in which the arts find the inspiration that is for them the breath of life, and the quiet without which that life cannot expand. The soul of the true artist is filled with unspeakable apprehension by the possibility of seeing these master-pieces destroyed or scattered abroad, these treasures plundered, all this wealth annihilated; and especially by the danger of seeing the ungraceful and meagre forms of modern utilitarianism usurp the place held by the manners, the habits, the face of all things in this privileged land of beauty, all consecrated by the admiration of ages. Alas! Holy Father, what is happening in the rest of Italy affords but too firm a ground for such apprehensions. The genius of destruction is abroad there, and proceeds to sweep away pitilessly what was the glory of ancient Italy. The spoliation and suppression of the religious orders are one of the most deadly blows ever aimed at the existence of the fine arts. Saddened by those forebodings, fearful of what the future may bring forth, the artists resident in Rome come to the feet of your Holiness to give utterance to their deep conviction that the splendor, the greatness, the very existence of the fine arts in Europe are inseparably connected with the maintenance of the beneficent power of the Sovereign Pontiffs. Were it not that the rival passions which divide Europe are of themselves fatally blind to consequences, the reign of your Holiness would suffice to render this truth evident to all. For while elsewhere national wealth is wasted in frivolous undertakings, or in preparing instruments of destruction, the modest revenues inherited by your Holiness are ever employed in continuing gloriously the noble labor of your predecessors. On the one hand, you have drawn from obscurity the beginnings of Christian art, thereby affording it new and precious data; on the other, you have adorned Rome and the Vatican with works which furnish a new and brilliant page to the grand history of art embodied in the Vatican itself. While elsewhere reigned trouble and agitation, here artists were able, beneath the blessed sway of your Holiness, to enjoy a kindly welcome, an unrestrained liberty, and the peaceful contemplation of those venerable structures and sites preserved so happily by the Pontifical government from the sad alterations blindly wrought in other cities by the troublous life of modern communities. May the Almighty One hear our prayer, and persuade both sovereigns and nations that their honor and glory will be measured, in coming ages, on the degree of protection they shall have afforded to the temporal power of the Papacy, which has ever been the unwearied promoter of the development of all the noblest faculties in man, and which alone can continue to be the custodian of the works of art originated by itself, and by it so faithfully treasured for the benefit of all peoples!" This eloquent address will ever remain carefully guarded by history, a noble monument of gratitude, and not only this, but also as a testimony, all the more valuable as it is the spontaneous utterance of men of the most cultivated intellect, in favor of that sovereignty the destruction of which was sought, and has been accomplished, by a party in whose ranks could be counted only rude soldiers, bands of filibusters and politicians, if such they could be called, whose counsels were inspired, not by the wisdom which distinguishes statesmen, but by blind passion, and the most unworthy of all passions, the passion of hatred—hatred of everything connected with the Christian faith.

The great centennial celebration proceeded. Who would have dared to say, whilst Nero reigned at Rome, and Christians were as pariahs, tolerated only in order to afford the spectacle of their tortures to a heathen multitude, that eighteen hundred years from Nero's time, Christianity would flourish and celebrate in that city, which was the scene of its greatest trials, as well as all over the world, its victory and the glorious martyrdom of its apostolic founders! The month of June, 1867, will ever be memorable in the annals of the church. Never had so many bishops assembled in the holy city. Nor were there ever there, at one time, so many priests and pilgrims of all ranks and classes. The duties of the time were commenced early in the month. On the 11th and 12th of June, consistories were held in presence of the bishops, in order to make preparation for the canonization of two hundred and five Japanese Christians—priests, catechists, laymen, women and children—put to death in hatred of the Christian faith, from 1617 to 1632. On the 26th of February, 1867, the decree of canonization had already been solemnly read in presence of Pius IX., who, on the occasion, went in state to the Roman College. On the 22nd February of the same year, the Holy Father signed decrees bearing on the beatification of several holy persons, among whom was Clement Maria Hofbauer, a Redemptorist. In an age of unbelief, it was only to be expected that the enquiry should be made why the Pope made so many saints?

In February, 1867, his Holiness replied, on occasion of a visit to the Convent of the Capuchin Friars: "I have been shown," said he, "a pamphlet, entitled 'Why so many Saints?' Had we ever so much need of intercessors in heaven and patterns in this world?" A little later he also said, alluding to the festivals at Paris: "Man has not been placed on the earth solely in order to amass wealth; still less in order to lead a life of pleasure. The world is ignorant of this. It forgets mind, and devotes itself to matter. Neither you nor I are this world of which I speak. You are come here in the good disposition to seek the edification of your souls. I hope, therefore, that you will bear away with you a salutary impression. Never forget, my children, that you have a soul, a soul created in the image of God, and which God will judge. Bestow on it more thought and care than on industrial speculations, railways, and all those lesser objects which constitute the good things of this world. I forbid you not to interest yourselves in such transient matters. Do so reasonably and moderately. But let me once more beg of you to remember that you have a soul."

None of the ten or twelve potentates who visited Paris came to Rome. But their absence was amply made up for by the immense concourse of clergy and people from every quarter of the civilized world. The reverence shown to Pius IX. by so many prelates was truly admirable. A Chinese bishop, Mgr. Languillat, Vicar-apostolic of Nankin, coming for the first time into the presence of the Supreme Pastor, fell prostrate on the threshold, and with his arms extended towards the Pontiff, began to exclaim: "Tu es Petrus!" ("Thou art Peter!")

"Come to me, my brother," said the Holy Father. "Tu es Petrus!" replied the Chinese bishop, "Tu es Petrus!" Needless to say that when he approached the venerable Pontiff affectionately embraced him, whilst both gave vent to their feelings in tears. The laity of all ranks and classes were no less devoted. A very moving scene which was witnessed this same year (1867) is beautifully described by the Protestant correspondent of the London Morning Post: "It is truly delightful to meet Pius IX. in the country on foot, walking faster than one would suppose his age could allow, his majestic person arrayed in a white soutane, and protected by a large broad-brimmed purple hat. The other day, when I was at Aricia, he was proceeding towards Genzano, followed by his guards and his carriage. The ex-Queen of Naples and the Infanta, lately Regent, were walking in the opposite direction, followed by their equipages and domestics. At a turn of the road, exactly below the Villa Chigi, the two groups met. In a moment their Royal Majesties were on their knees. His Holiness quickened his pace in order to raise them up. The peasants of the neighborhood, who were returning from their vineyards and orchards, together with their wives and daughters, were struck with admiration. They also advanced and knelt on each side of the central group formed by the illustrious personages, calling out with all their might: 'Santo Padre, la benedizione.' 'Holy Father, your benediction!' It was a splendid tableau."

On occasion of the centennial, substantial proofs of devotedness abounded. The numerous pilgrims not only gave the homage of their faith, but also brought magnificent offerings, as Peter's pence, and presented addresses with millions of signatures. One day fifteen hundred Italians were received at an audience of the Holy Father, and made the offering of a monumental album, together with one hundred purses filled with gold, as the homage of one hundred Italian cities. Cardinal Manning laid at the feet of Pius IX. L30,000—a generous testimony of English piety. The Cardinal Archbishop of Mechlin brought to the centenary celebration L16,000, the Archbishop of Posen L20,000, and the Mexican archbishop L12,000, whilst Cuba offered 100,000 douros. "We are reversing the order of nature," smilingly observed the Holy Father; "here are the children supporting the Father." Nor was it too much for the wants of such a Father. He received with one hand and generously dispensed with the other. He took charge himself to lodge and entertain eighty-five of the poorer bishops from Italy, the East, and remote missions. None of these were allowed to depart without receiving abundant aid for their diocesan good works.

Festival followed festival at Rome, from the 20th June till the 7th of July. On the former day was celebrated the grand solemnity of Corpus Christi. The Pope himself bore the holy sacrament, kneeling and surrounded by the greater half of the whole Christian episcopate. It was remarked that he was as calm and collected in the midst of such a great and imposing multitude as if he had been in his private oratory. The vast assemblage was also rapt in silent contemplation. Not a sound was heard save the murmur of the fountains. An eye-witness has observed that if one closed his eyes he could imagine himself in a desert. Next day was celebrated the 21st anniversary of the coronation of Pius IX. He had already said, in reply to an address read by Cardinal Patrizi, when all the visitors to Rome were assembled on occasion of the commemoration of his election—10th June—"Modern society is ardent in the pursuit of two things, progress, and unity. It fails to reach either, because its motive principles are selfishness and pride. Pride is the worst enemy of progress, and selfishness by destroying charity, the bond of souls, thereby rendering union impossible. Now God Himself has established the Sovereign Pontiff in order to direct and enlighten society, to point out evil and indicate the proper remedy. This induced me, some years ago, to publish the 'Syllabus.' I now confirm that solemn act in your presence. It is to be, henceforth, the rule of your teaching. We have to contend, unceasingly, with the enemies who beset us. Placed on the mountain-top like Moses, I lift up my hands to God in prayer for the triumph of the church. I ask of you, my brother bishops, to support my arms, for they grow weary. Take courage! The church must triumph. I leave this hope in your hearts, not as a hope merely, but as a prophecy."

On the 23rd was consecrated the Church of St. Mary of the Angels, an admirable architectural monument, built originally according to the plans of Michael Angelo, and rebuilt by Pius IX. The 24th, on leaving the Basilica of St. John Lateran, the Pope was the object of a more splendid ovation than any, perhaps, that he had as yet received. Kneeling on the vast place, and completely filling it, the multitude which had not been able to enter the Basilica waited for the Pontifical benediction. After the Holy Father had raised his hand and pronounced the words of blessing, the whole people rose, and, by a simultaneous movement and with one voice, replied: "Live Pius IX.! Live the Pope-King!" Arms and handkerchiefs waved amidst a rain of beautiful flowers. The Pope's carriage was detained a considerable time, and he himself, accustomed as he was to the demonstrations of a devoted people, was moved to tears. His hood was almost taken to pieces, thread by thread, by French ecclesiastics who were close behind his Holiness, and who deposited the fragments, as precious relics, in their breviaries. The crowd thronged around the Holy Father and continued their acclamations as far as the Vatican, a distance of three miles. Every new day gave proof of a like enthusiasm.

Pius IX. was anxious to address words of encouragement to the twenty thousand priests of the church who had come to Rome. The greatness of their number was a serious hindrance to this laudable purpose. The spacious consistorial hall was by far too small to contain so many. On the 25th of June, however, they came to the hall, crowding its approaches, the passages, the great staircase and the outer court. The Holy Father, desiring to show his respect and affection for so many pilgrims of the sacred order of the priesthood, came to the assembly in more than usual state. The throne was raised a few steps, in order to afford an opportunity of seeing and hearing the Supreme Pastor. The Pontiff was preceded by the noble guard and the household prelates. As he entered the hall, loud and joyous acclamations burst from the assembled priesthood, for whom it was impossible to restrain their feelings of love and veneration. The Holy Father himself was deeply moved, and, gathering enthusiasm from the unusual scene around him, spoke so as to be heard even in the remotest corridors, whilst those at a still greater distance were visibly moved by the thrilling tones of his sonorous voice. There are no readers who will not be interested in the words which fell from the lips of the Sovereign Pontiff on this unique and solemn occasion. He began by thanking the assembled clergy for their attendance in such imposing numbers. They were the tribe in Israel, he continued, whose special inheritance was the Lord. They stood between him and his people evermore, offering with prayer and supplication the spotless victim of the new law. Let them look well to the ministry entrusted to them, shining in the presence of all men by the dignity of their bearing, the innocence of their life, by integrity and charity, and the golden ornaments of every virtue. "You," he said, "who are the interpreters of the word of God, you must preach it unweariedly to the wise and the unwise. Preach to them Christ and Him crucified, not in loftiness of speech, but in the knowledge of the spirit, never ceasing to call into the right road all who stray, and confirm them in sound doctrine. Dispensers of the divine mysteries and of the manifold grace of God, deal it out to the faithful people, to the sick especially, in order that no help may fail them in their last struggle with the evil one. Do not refuse to the little ones of the flock the milk which they need. Let it be your dearest care to teach them, to train them, to form them. Be the faithful and devoted helpmates of your respective bishops; obeying them in all things, zealous to heal in your parishes whatever is ailing, to bind up what is broken, to raise up what is fallen, to seek what is lost, in order that in all things God may be honored through our Lord Jesus Christ. Lift up your souls and contemplate the immeasurable height of glory prepared by him for all true and faithful laborers."

On the 26th a great public consistory was held. The five hundred bishops then at Rome were invited to attend. So great a number had never before assembled in Italy or any part of Western Christendom. Nor indeed was there ever, or could there ever have been, so great an occasion for their assembling. There was question of celebrating the eighteen hundredth anniversary of the glorious martyrdom of Rome's first great bishop, so many prelates had come together, also in order to venerate Peter in the person of his venerable successor, who had now so long and so gloriously borne witness to the Truth—the Truth in its plenitude, as first committed to Peter and his fellow-apostles. The world was no longer heathen, and no Nero reigned, but the spirit of unbelief was abroad, and its champions were even then seeking to drive the Sovereign Pontiff from the holy city, and were waging war with as determined wickedness as that of the early persecutors against whom the apostles had so successfully contended.

The number of pilgrims from all parts of the Christian world, who had come to Rome on occasion of the centennial celebration, is said by some writers to have been not less than half a million. The presence of so great a number of devoted Christian people on such an occasion was the noblest protest that could be imagined against the vain boasts and prophecies of the enemies of the Church which Peter founded. That church was not yet forsaken, or destined soon to perish, which, in the nineteenth century of her uninterrupted existence, could speak through so many witnesses—the representatives of every civilized nation of the world.

The great consistorial hall in the Vatican Palace being too small to contain so great a crowd of dignified listeners, the assembly was held in the more spacious room which is situated above the vestibule of St. Peter's Church. At the opening of the consistory the cardinal's hat was conferred on the Archbishop of Seville, Luis de la Lastray Cuesta. A formal petition for the beatification of Marie Rivier, the foundress of the presentation Nuns of France, was then presented. After this ceremony, the Holy Father, as was expected, delivered an allocution to the bishops. He was full of admiration for their zeal in coming in such numbers on his invitation, and he could not do less than express to them his gratitude. Their presence was a striking proof of the unity of the Catholic Church. "Yes, everything here proclaims that admirable unity by which, as through a mysterious channel, all the gifts and graces of the Holy Spirit flow into the mystic body of Christ, calling forth in every one of its members those acts of faith and charity which excite the wonder of all mankind. What has brought you here? Are you not come to decree the honors of sanctity to those heroes of the church, the greater number of whom bore away the palm of victory in their glorious witness for Christ? Of these some died in defending the primacy of this apostolic see, which is the centre of truth and unity; others gave their lives in defence of the unity and integrity of the faith; others again shed their blood in the endeavor to bring back schismatics to the one fold. Is it not providential that such heroism should be commemorated and honored at the very moment when the Catholic faith and the authority of the Holy See are the objects of such furious and implacable conspiracies? We are also here to celebrate with solemn rites the memory of that auspicious day, eighteen hundred years ago, when Peter and Paul consecrated by their heroic witnessing and their precious blood this impregnable stronghold of Catholic unity. What can be more reasonable than that our joyous commemoration of this triumphant death of the prince of the apostles should be graced by your presence? For he belongs to the entire Catholic world. It is also most important that the enemies of religion should conclude from what they witness here how mighty is the energy, how unfailing the life, of that Catholic Church which they so bitterly hate; how little wisdom they display in matching their strength and their temporary triumphs over her against that incomparable union of living forces which the creative power of Christ has bound around this central rock. More than ever is it needful in our age, that all men should see and understand that the only strong and lasting tie between men's souls depends on the reign over all of the same Spirit of God. Besides, what can make a more abiding impression on Catholic nations; what can draw them more powerfully and bind them more closely in obedience to this apostolic chair and to us, than to see how much their pastors cherish the rights and duties of Catholic unity, than to behold them journeying from the farthest lands, notwithstanding every inconvenience and impediment, in order to visit Rome and the apostolic chair, as well as to revere in our humble person the successor of Peter and the Vicar of Christ? We have been always convinced, from the moment we beheld you approaching Peter in the person of his successor, or even entering this city, which is impregnated with his blood, that from thence to each one of you should go forth a special virtue. Yes, from this tomb, where Peter's ashes repose amid the veneration of the Christian world, a hidden power, a salutary energy, emanates which instils into the souls of the Chief Pastors the desire of great undertakings and of vast designs, inspiring that fearlessness and magnanimity which enable them to put down the impudent boldness of their assailants. There cannot be offered to the eyes of men and angels a more magnificent spectacle than what one beholds in such a concourse of pilgrims as this. You who come from the ends of the earth to this home of your Father remind us not only of that pilgrimage which leads us all to the eternal home, you also call to mind the journey of the chosen people from AEgypt to the promised land, the twelve tribes marching together, each under its chief, bearing its own name, having its own appropriate place in the camp. Every family there was obedient to its parents, every company of warriors hearkened to the voice of its captain, and the entire multitude to the divinely-appointed leader. All these tribes, nevertheless, were but one people, adoring the same God, worshipping at the same altar, obeying the same laws, having one Pontiff, Aaron, and one leader, Moses—one people, enjoying common rights in the perils and labors of warfare as well as in the results of victory, dwelling in the same tents, and fed by the same miraculous bread, whilst all yearned for the same end of their pilgrimage. Nothing is to us the subject of such ardent longing as to see both ourselves and the whole church deriving from this precious union the most salutary blessings. It has long been a serious matter of thought for us, and which, indeed, we communicated to several of the episcopal body, to hold an OEcumenical Council, in which, with the Divine assistance, our united counsels and solicitude should devise such efficient remedies as are necessary for the evils that afflict the church."

Pius IX. had for a long time entertained the idea of holding an OEcumenical Council. And no doubt his mind found relief when he communicated his purpose to the assembled bishops. Two years later, as is well known, the proposed council was convened at the Vatican, and from this circumstance is known in history as the Vatican Council. Bishops, priests and laity heard the intimation with delight. Their fervor and enthusiasm increased as the day of the grand centennial celebration approached. The vigil, 28th June, was enlivened by illuminations. By early dawn on the 29th, the feast of SS. Peter and Paul, people poured into Rome from the surrounding territory. They were welcome visitors. The Romans, far from being jealous of so great a concourse of strangers, hailed them as brothers, engaged, as they also were, in the great object of doing honor to the memory of Rome's apostles. The first grand public ceremony of the day was the solemn canonization, of which no description need be given in this place, as everything was conducted in the same way as in 1852 and 1863. The Holy Father himself then celebrated High Mass, and, what is still more noteworthy, delivered the sermon of the day. Until the time of Pius IX., no Pope had preached in public since the epoch of the Crusades and the Pontificate of Gregory VII. The Holy Father set an example to all who preach on great and solemn public occasions. His sermon was short, but replete with instruction, and marked by that earnestness which commands attention and moves the soul. The music, as was fitting at so great a celebration, was given by three choirs, in all four hundred voices, which completely filled the immense Basilica, conveying, by the exquisite music which they gave forth, an idea of that more than earthly harmony which ever ascends to the throne of heaven from the angelic choirs. There was also a solemn service in the afternoon, which was alike highly interesting and calculated to inspire devotion. The general illumination which took place at night rivalled the splendor of the bright Italian day. On June 30th was celebrated the special feast of St. Paul in the fine church dedicated to this great apostle, and with scarcely less magnificence than that of St. Peter had been honored.

The bishops now desired, before leaving Rome, to present an address to the Holy Father, as well in reply to his allocution of 26th June as to express their gratitude for the great kindness which he had shown them. The 1st July was the day chosen for the presentation of this address. It is a model of elegant Latinity, and completely refutes the modern assertion that churchmen are unacquainted with the Latin of the classics. The reply of the assembled bishops to the fatherly allocution of Pius IX. affords, moreover, an admirable proof of the sympathy of the united episcopate with the Supreme Bishop. It shows the excellent union of the bishops with one another, and their no less perfect union with their Head. What more could there have been in the brightest days of the church's history?

(M106) The French garrison had departed before the commencement of the memorable celebrations that have been just described. Although the population of Rome was literally doubled by the presence of pious strangers, not the slightest breach of order was ever observed. The exercise of filial duty required not to be watched over by any outside power. It was now seven months since Napoleon III. had withdrawn his troops.

On the 6th December, 1866, Pius IX. had taken leave of them in the following words:

"Your flag, which left France eighteen years ago with commission to defend the rights of the Holy See, was at that time attended by the prayers and acclamations of all Christendom. To-day it returns to France. I desire, my dear children, that it may be welcomed by the same acclamations. But I doubt it. It is only too manifest, indeed, that because it will appear to have ceased to protect me my enemies will not on that account cease to attack me. Quite the contrary. We must not delude ourselves. The revolution will come here. It has declared and still declares that it will. An Italian personage in high position lately said that Italy is made but not completed. Italy would be undone if there were here one spot of earth where order, justice and tranquillity prevail! Formerly, six years ago, I conversed with a representative of France. He asked me if there were anything I wished to transmit to the Emperor. I replied: St. Augustine, Bishop of Hippo, which is now a French city, beholding the barbarians at the gates of the town, prayed the Lord that he might die before they entered, because his mind was horror-struck by the thought of the evils which they would cause. I added: Say this to the Emperor: he will understand it. The ambassador made answer: Most Holy Father, have confidence; the barbarians will not enter. The ambassador was no prophet. Depart, my children, depart with my blessing and my love. If you see the Emperor, tell him that I pray for him every day. It is said that his health is not very good; I pray that he may have health. It is said that his mind is not at ease. I pray for his soul. The French nation is Christian; its Chief ought also to be Christian. Let there be prayer with confidence and perseverance, and this great and powerful nation may obtain what it desires. Depart, my children; I impart to you my benediction, and with it my wish that it may attend you throughout the journey of life. Think not that you leave me here alone and deprived of all resource. God remains with me; in Him I place my trust!"

Pius IX., in a more private communication, said: "Yes, God sustains His vicar and aids his weakness. He may permit him to be driven away, but only in order to show, once more, that he can bring him back. I have been exiled; I returned from exile. If banished anew, I will again return. And if I die—well! if I die, Peter will rise again!"

Thus did Pius IX. clearly foresee the danger but was not on that account less confident. Nor did his confidence lessen his foresight. What, indeed, he said publicly, "The revolution will come here," everyone capable of reasoning said in secret. The September convention left the small Pontifical sovereignty surrounded on all sides by its enemies, just as the government of Napoleon III. would have been if isolated in Paris and the two neighboring departments, all the rest of the French territory being in the power of a republic, or a Bourbon Monarchy. In vain did M. Rouher endeavor to demonstrate to the Chambers that a stable equilibrium was established, and which was of such a character as to remain by itself for an indefinite period. Nobody was convinced by his reasoning. But the Imperial majorities, recruited as they were by the system of official candidatures, asked not of the complaisant minister reasons which he had not to give. They sought only pretexts which should allow them to vote, with a show of decency, according to the wishes of the master.

The Holy Father was destined to enjoy a period of success before his prophecy came to be fulfilled. Immediately after the disastrous but glorious events of 1860, the courageous Belgian, Mgr. de Merode, as Minister of War, and afterwards General Kanzler, in this same capacity, greatly renewed the small Pontifical army. As their labors deserved, they were attended with success. Lamoriciere died towards the end of 1865; but on the new alarm of danger, many of his veterans of Castelfidardo and Ancona, returned to Rome in 1866. The flower of the French, Dutch, Belgian, English, Swiss and Roman youth made it a point of honor to swell the ranks of the Papal Zouaves. The high tone, the illustrious names of several of these new crusaders, and the admirable discipline which prevailed among them all, soon won for them the respect even of the few revolutionists who were at Rome. These brave and self-sacrificing youths, many of whom served at their own cost, were addressed as "Signor Soldato" (Signor Soldier) by the passers-by, whilst the venal scribes of the outside revolutionary press did their best to stigmatize them as "the mercenaries of the Pope." Whilst some of these warriors devoted their life, others bestowed their gold. It is honorable to the Catholic people that, in the circumstances, they added the good work of supporting the Pontifical army to their collections of Peter's pence. In order to furnish the sum of 500 francs (L20 sterling) yearly, which was required for each soldier, artisans and even domestic servants freely subscribed. In 1867, the Catholics of the diocese of Cambrai, sent two hundred Zouaves; those of Rodez and Arras, one hundred for each diocese; whilst Cologne, Nantes, Rennes and Toulouse did almost as much.

Meanwhile, having its eyes somewhat opened by the light from Sadowa, the French government appeared to have abandoned, as regarded the protection of the Holy See, its secret maxim of 1860: "Neither do anything nor allow anything to be done." In withdrawing from Rome, it had authorized the creation, under a chief whom it was pleased itself to designate, a body of volunteers, selected chiefly from the French army, whose duty it should be to guard the Pope. This corps was called the Legion of Antibes, from the name of the city where it was formed. Pius IX., besides, could rely on the fidelity of the Roman army, properly so called. Thus was he more than sufficiently provided against any possible internal disturbance. It was not to be expected that he should be prepared to meet a formidable foreign invasion of his state.

The notorious Garibaldi had already made preparations for invading the Roman territory. Whilst he neglected not to strengthen the International at the Geneva Congress of Demagogues, the indefatigable brigand availed himself of the crowding of pilgrims to Rome in order to deceive the Pontifical police, and to introduce into the city bands of cutthroats, munitions of war, and arms of every kind, not excepting Orsini bombs. After the departure of the bishops, he opened publicly, in Italy, subscription lists, and enrolled soldiers. The Piedmontese government stores were at his service as they were in 1860, in order to aid him in clothing and arming his volunteers. These were joined by numerous functionaries and officers of the regular army, who took no pains to conceal their Piedmontese arms and uniforms. Municipalities, at public deliberative meetings, voted subsidies to the Garibaldians, and railway managers provided them with special trains. Whilst so many things that clearly showed the complicity of Piedmont were done, Victor Emmanuel sent protestation after protestation to Paris. He did not, by any means, intend, he said, to disembarrass himself of the obligations which were imposed on him by the first article of the convention of the 15th September, 1865. It might be relied upon, besides, that he would check the agitators and repress by force, even, if necessary, all violation of the Pontifical frontier. Nor did the wily monarch confine himself to words. He acted as he could act so well. Garibaldi was sent to his island, Caprera; but only in order to escape from it at the opportune moment, through the seven vessels by which he was guarded. An order for his arrest was then issued. Active search was made for him at Genoa, at Turin, everywhere except at Florence, where he harangued the people in the most public places, even under the windows of the King's palace. Later, when it was undertaken to arrest him at Florence, it so happened that he had started by a special train for the Roman frontier, together with a complete staff. (M107) The telegraph was put in requisition in order to turn back the train. But, possibly through the fault of a disobedient employee, the telegraph failed to accomplish its purpose. The Italian government neglected not to hold an investigation in regard to this matter, and swore that the guilty party, if found out, would be punished. What more could be desired? Was not France satisfied with much less than this in 1860? Whilst diplomacy was thus playing its role, Garibaldi and his myrmidons were penetrating on all sides at once the Pontifical territory. Twenty-seven gensd'armes, who guarded the small town of Aquapendente, were surprised by two hundred and fifty Garibaldians, who, on being re-inforced by another band, marched thence on Ischia, Valentano and Canino, pillaging the public chests, sacking the convents and churches, prudently retiring as often as they met Pontifical forces in any considerable numbers. Eighty-five Zouaves, or soldiers of the line, having rashly pursued them at Bagnorea, and attacked them with the bayonet, were repulsed with loss. It could not well have been otherwise, considering the great disparity of numbers. Garibaldi shouted victory, in his usual emphatic style: "Hail to the victors of Aquapendente and Bagnorea! The foreign mercenaries have fled before the valiant champions of Italian liberty. Those braggarts who thirsted for blood have experienced the noble generosity of their brave conquerors. As to you, priests, who know so well how to burn, torture and imprison; you who drink, with hyena-like delight, in the cup of your deceit, the blood of the liberators; we pardon you, and, together with you, that butcher soldiery, the pestilent scum of a faithless faction."

The conquerors, however, were driven from their easy conquests before they received this proclamation which spoke of mercy in terms that expressed it so poorly. Events which were a cruel satire on Garibaldi's words, and which he had not foreseen, caused his bands to fall into the power of the Pontifical troops, so that it was they who sued for pardon and obtained it. It can even be said that on this occasion the generosity of the soldiers of the Pope was excessive, for the vanquished enemy had been guilty of many other crimes besides that of rising in arms against the legitimate government. They had pillaged the Cathedral of Bagnorea, broken the tabernacle, stolen the sacred vessels, defiled the image of the Madonna, pierced the crucifix with their bayonets, decapitated the statues of the saints, and enacting an infernal parody, shot an inoffensive man, in order that human blood might be shed on the altar of sacrifice.

At Subiaco, the governor, who was a priest, fell, together with the town, into the hands of the banditti. They were preparing to sack the place and put the governor to death, when a Pontifical troop appeared. The struggle was short. The Garibaldian chief was slain, and the rest fled. They who guarded the prisoner threw themselves at his knees, imploring mercy. "Have pity on us, my Lord; do not give us up to the Zouaves; they would kill us." The governor made them go into his oratory and closed the door. Meanwhile the commandant of the Zouaves arrived, gave him the details of the battle, and spoke of the prisoners he had taken. "Everybody makes prisoners," said the governor, smiling. "I have some also, although not, like you, a man of the sword." "Where are they?" "Ah! they are mine and not yours. Promise that you will respect my absolute right of conqueror; if not, I will not show them." The commandant made the desired promise, and the governor opened the door of his oratory and made the Garibaldians come out. These prisoners were greatly amazed. Having asked and obtained the governor's priestly blessing, they freely recrossed the Italian frontier.

The action at Monte-Libretti, which took place on the 14th October, was of a more serious character. Eighty Zouaves contended from half-past five in the evening till eight o'clock against twelve hundred Garibaldians. Arthur Guillemin, their captain, and Urbain de Quelen, their second lieutenant, fell gloriously. When night came, the Zouaves being unable to fight any longer, and not venturing to establish themselves in the first houses which they had taken, whilst all the rest of the town still swarmed with the enemy, retired in good order, bearing away their dead, and also twelve prisoners. They returned next morning, in order to renew the attack, but found the place evacuated.

The violation of the Pontifical territory was now too flagrant to be denied any longer, and the more so, as the Cabinet of the Tuileries was not ignorant of anything that was taking place. It was, by a fortunate accident, represented at Rome by a diplomatist of a different school from that of Thouvenel and Lavalette. The ambassador, M. de Sartiges, was absent on leave, and was replaced by his first secretary, M. Arman. The latter understood his duty, and, at the risk of being importunate, ceased not to make known, every day, to France, the events which were so rapidly occurring. Thus did a comparatively humble secretary save the honor of his country. Compelled by the terms of the September convention to stay the invasion, the Government of Florence stationed a corps of forty thousand men, under the command of Cialdini, around the Pontifical frontier, and intimated to the Tuileries that it was for its protection. It soon became evident that it was in order to fall upon it, in the wake of Garibaldi, as they had fallen upon the Kingdom of Naples in 1860. Meanwhile, the invaders passed without any difficulty between the different posts, and when beaten and pursued by the Pontifical troops, they retired and reformed behind the ranks of the Piedmontese.

(M108) Hence the small body of Pontifical soldiers was easily overwhelmed, and the Garibaldian hordes, although beaten, were always advancing. Rome was filled with consternation. The cutthroats of the revolution spoke of applying gunpowder to public edifices. And indeed they set about fulfilling their threat by blowing up the Serratori barracks, which they had undermined, and which buried, one evening, in their ruins, the music band of the Zouaves, whilst they were engaged at a rehearsal. Fortunately the bandsmen were the only victims. The rest of the corps which remained to guard the city was at the moment patrolling at a distance from the barracks. The Garibaldians expected the explosion. They rushed into the streets and endeavored to avail themselves of the terror and confusion which generally prevailed in order to seize the military posts. They managed to assassinate, in the dark, a few soldiers and some gensd'armes; but they succeeded not even in ringing the alarm-bell at the Capitol, which was intended to be their signal. Their principal leader, a Milanese, whose name was Cairoli, was killed with arms in his hands, together with some twenty of his followers, in a vineyard near the city; and so failed the enterprise.

The French Cabinet ceased, at length, to persist in the face of the clearest evidence and against the unanimous voice of the national conscience. A small body of soldiers had been sent to the French port of Toulon. It received orders to embark for Civita Vecchia. Catholics were relieved from their anxiety. Meanwhile came new assurances from Florence. A counter-order was given, and the embarkation suspended. Victor Emmanuel and his minister, Ratazzi, thought they understood the secret meaning of this counter-order. They remembered the past, and the troops of Cialdini boldly crossed the Pontifical frontier.

(M109) French historians relate that, on receiving this news, all who had any concern for the honor of France believed that it had come to an end, and made up their minds, in sullen silence, to swallow the new disgrace. They who were indifferent, even, became indignant. People who met on the boulevards of Paris asked one another to what extremes those Italian mountebanks (farceurs) would bring them. The enemies of the Pope, who were equally hostile to the Emperor, rejoiced, but secretly. The deputies either protested together with the Catholics, or dared not show themselves; the ministers were silent. Finally, the army took its departure from Toulon. It was time that it should; and this appeared to be well understood. There was great irresolution in coming to a decision. It was no less promptly carried into effect. The French army disembarked at Civita Vecchia on the 29th October, under the command of General de Failly.

Three days earlier, 26th October, the small town of Monte Rotondo, five leagues from Rome, was attacked by Garibaldi in person, attended by a band of five thousand four hundred fighting men. Its garrison consisted of five hundred men of the legion of Antibes. These few brave soldiers held their ground for two days and repelled five attacks. They were compelled at last to yield, having exhausted all their munitions of war. They retired, but left Garibaldi so much weakened and disorganized by his inglorious victory that he was unable for several days to advance. Thus, for the moment, did the legion of Antibes save Rome.

(M110) Monte Rotondo, it is almost superfluous to relate, experienced the fate of Bagnorea. Nothing comparable in point of atrocity had occurred since the invasion of Italy by the barbarians. In justice to Garibaldi, it must be said that he rebuked publicly by an order of the day, dated 28th October, the "shameful excess" of his fellow-adventurers, and proceeded to expurgate their ranks. But he could not hinder them from being what they were, a mob of miscreants that the secret societies of the whole world had discharged on the Pontifical State. He was not less astonished to meet with so poor a welcome on the part of the people whom it was supposed he came to deliver. His chief lieutenant, Bertani, bears witness to this state of things, in the Riforma of 18th November, 1867: "It must be admitted," said this writer, "that the people of the Roman States have no idea of an Italy one and free. We have not been greeted or encouraged by a single cry of rejoicing; nor have we obtained either any spontaneous assistance, or even a word of consolation, from these brutified people."

General Kanzler, the pro-Minister of War, well understood that it was impossible to defend for any length of time the frontier against bands that were constantly recruited. Accordingly, he ordered all the isolated garrisons to concentrate at Rome. It was more important than anything else to preserve the Papal city from being surprised by the invaders. Garibaldi, when re-inforced, marched in advance of Monte Rotondo. Cialdini followed him at some distance, but without daring as yet openly to join the banditti. The French, however, were en route. Kanzler took his departure from Rome on 3rd November, at two o'clock in the morning, followed by 3,000 Pontifical troops and 2,000 French soldiers. "Come," said he, to M. Emilius Keller, Dr. O'Zannam, and some others who had just arrived from Paris, in order to organize the ambulance service of the Pontifical army, "come, and you will see a fine battle." The small army met the enemy at one o'clock in the afternoon, at a short distance from the town of Mentana, the ancient Nomentum from which the Nomentan way (via Nomentana) took its name. Garibaldi's command was from 10,000 to 12,000 strong. He placed his men in ambuscade, partly on small hills that were covered with wood, and partly scattered them, as fusileers, along the hedges. His left wing was commanded by Pianciani, who, some time later, was Mayor of Rome. Kanzler's force commenced firing. But what could it avail against an enemy that was invisible and in superior numbers? A veteran of Castelfidardo, Lieutenant-Colonel de Charette, the same who was destined afterwards to immortalize himself at Patay and at Mans, understood that nothing was to be gained by a fusillade. "Forward," he cried, "my Zouaves! charge with the bayonet; and, remember, the French army is looking on." The Zouaves reply: "Live Pius IX!" and spring forward with their leader. The Garibaldians are dislodged from the first hill—from the other hills, and would have been utterly routed but for the formidable intrenchments presented by the Santucci vineyard, which was laid out in gardens rising in storeys, one above the other, and intersected by walls. Garibaldi was posted on the summit, in a villa, whence he directed his fire without being exposed to personal danger. His position was, indeed, strong. Charette's troop was observed to waver. "Forward, Zouaves!" cried their leader, "or I shall die without you!" As he spoke, his horse was struck by a ball and fell dead. Meanwhile, the Zouaves scaled the walls and the ravines, without heeding those who fell. Garibaldi was disconcerted by this living tornado. He fell back from his villa to the houses, and thence to the Castle of Mentana. The Zouaves followed in the face of a murderous fire, discharged from the walls of the castle; but they always advanced, and finally, repelled, by a bayonet charge, a renewed and general attack of the enemy. Such efforts, however, could not have been sustained for any length of time unaided, and bravery must, in the end, have given way to numbers. General de Courten, who directed this attack, sent to ask assistance from General Polhes, who commanded the army of France. The French soldiers had been, hitherto, inactive, although by no means unheeding spectators of the combat. "Bravo! Zouaves, bravo!" cried they, eagerly desiring to share in the fight. At a sign from their chief, they sprang forward in their turn. At their head was Colonel Saussier, of the 20th regiment of the line, who was afterwards general and member of the National Assembly at Versailles. The sudden and hitherto unknown fire of the chassepots carried death and terror within the precincts of the castle. Meanwhile, a detachment of Zouaves managed to place themselves between Mentana and Monte Rotondo, and so intercepted the reinforcements which were hastening from the latter place to join the Garibaldians. At sight of this achievement, the bands, already much demoralized, were thrown into confusion. Night came, and, favoring their flight, changed it to a rout. Garibaldi himself, who had so often shouted, "Rome or death"—stole away, under cover of the darkness, like the meanest of the fugitives. His sons did in like manner. It was expected that they would renew the battle next day, as Monte Rotondo, which they still held, presented a convenient position for rallying. They did nothing of the kind. On the very night which followed the engagement Garibaldi and his sons recrossed the Italian frontier. "He always runs away" (si salva sempre), said his followers, in the bitterness of their disappointment, when so shamefully betrayed and abandoned. The French soldiers, on the other hand, always inclined to raillery and punning, baptized the action of the preceding day, calling it the battle of Montre ton dos. The Garibaldians, who held the castle, as well as the rest of the banditti who could not get away in time, surrendered, unconditionally, to General Polhes. There was but little bloodshed on the side of the victors, thanks to the rapidity with which the victory was won. The losses of the French troops were not more than two killed, two officers and thirty-six privates wounded. Of the Pontifical force there were twenty killed and one hundred and twenty-three wounded. Several of these died of their wounds.

(M111) Among those noble victims who claim the gratitude of the Catholic world, were names already dear to the church—such as Bernard de Quatre-barbe, a nephew of the defender of Ancona; Rodolph de Maistre, grandson of the immortal author of "The Pope;" and John de Muller, son of the celebrated German controversialist. As if nothing that is glorious should be wanting to the field of Mentana, it had also its martyrs of charity. The Sisters of St. Vincent de Paul went and came among the wounded and the dying, giving their aid alike to all, no matter what their uniform. There was need of water. A Pontifical Zouave, Julius Watts Russell, ran to find some for a Garibaldian who was at the point of death. As he was gently raising the head of the moribund, in order that he might drink, he was himself struck with a ball and fell dead on the body of him whom he had endeavored to succour. On his person was found a small note, in which he thus exhorted himself: "My soul, O, my soul! love God and pursue thy way." What Christian would not be envious of a like death—a death which nobly crowned such a life as these few words necessarily suppose?

(M112) The vanquished had been fanaticised by the secret societies as well as by Garibaldi himself, that infuriated enthusiast, who could not write four lines nor utter four words without enshrining therein the treasons of the black race, that prurient sore of Italy; or the venom of the Vatican, that nest of vipers; or the lies of Pius IX., that pest, that monster, twice accursed, as priest and as king. So when these people were made prisoners, they expected nothing better than the hardest treatment and the most terrible vengeance. How surprised must they not then have been to find that their wounded were attended to on the field of battle, and the same care and attention extended to them as to the wounded of the Pontifical force, whilst those who were sound met with no other punishment than to be well guarded at first, and afterwards released by degrees, as it became certain that Garibaldi would be in no hurry to renew his game. Finally, a complete amnesty was granted. This extreme clemency of a legitimate government towards an invading banditti presented a noble and happy contrast with the implacable revenge of the usurping King of Piedmont. Victor Emmanuel, in fact, had no hesitation in putting to death the Spanish general Borges and his Neapolitan comrades, who were arrested whilst bearing arms in an endeavor to deliver the kingdom of Naples, and restore its former king, Francis II.

(M113) Two men only were excepted from the Pontifical amnesty. These were the authors of that atrocious act, the blowing up of the Sorristori barracks. Their crime, indeed, could not be considered as anything connected with the war, but simply as cowardly assassination. Those two wretches, Monti and Tognetti, underwent a regular trial, which lasted more than a year, and at which all the forms required by law were strictly observed. They were convicted, and ended by acknowledging everything. They suffered capital punishment, and, at their execution, begged pardon of God and men. The day after this execution—coming generations will scarcely believe so strange a fact—the Chamber of Deputies at Florence solemnly protested against it, as did also Victor Emmanuel. The secret societies opened a subscription list for the widows of the executed criminals. Victor Emmanuel took part in it. And thus did a king honor parties who commit murder by gunpowder plots. True, this king was the same prince who, in pursuance of a decree issued by Garibaldi, at Naples, in 1861, pensioned the widow of the regicide, Agesilas Milano.

(M114) Pius IX. entertained quite a different idea of the duties of royalty. He was persuaded that an example should be made of the foul crime of Monti and Tognetti, and so could not be moved. "A king," said he, "owes justice to all alike, certainly not excepting honest people: and hence assassins must not be allowed to count on impunity." He went kindly to visit the wounded Garibaldians, "those unfortunate people, a great many of whom were only misled, and who, nevertheless, were his children." Two hundred of them had been conveyed to a lower room in the Castle of St. Angelo. He visited them quite alone, and thus addressed them: "Here I am, my friends; you see before you him whom your general calls the Vampire of Italy; you all took up arms against me, and you see that I am only a poor old man! You are in need of shoes, clothes and linen. Well, the Pope on whom you made war will cause you to be supplied with all these things. He will then send you back to your families; only before your departure, you will, from love to me, make a spiritual retreat." The unfortunate rebels could not believe their eyes or their ears. Some turned away from him in sullen wrath, like demons who will not give up hating. Others, in greater numbers, seized hold of the paternal hand which was raised over them to bless them, and bathed it with their tears. The good Pope, marvelled at the designs of God, who brings good out of evil. "O felix culpa" ("O happy fault!"), said he, alluding to the prayers of Holy Saturday, "if these children had not borne arms against me, they would not, perhaps, have died so piously."

It was some time before the details of Mentana were known in France. The government, it would appear, feared to acknowledge that the French soldiers took part in the engagement. When, however, the general's report put an end to all doubt on the subject, there were no bounds to the rage of the revolutionary party. The revolution, hitherto, had used Louis Napoleon as a facile and valuable instrument. It could not pardon him Mentana. But France was not all revolutionary. The mass of the nation, honest and loyal, shared not the ideas of the secret societies. Far from regretting what had taken place, the French people dreaded lest there should not have been enough done.

Cialdini, indeed, had been able to withdraw his troops, not with honor but without molestation, within the Italian frontier, whilst no account was required of his violation of the September convention. The ministers continued to discuss Italian unity as freely as they had been in the habit of doing for eight years, and the officious demagogue papers which were devoted to Prince Napoleon began to demand the speedy return of the French troops from Rome, and that by virtue of the famous convention which, according to these politicians, was binding on France, but not on Italy. The legislative body was moved. Not only the deputies who were declared Catholics, and who always divided against the government on the Roman question, but a great number of those also who had never until that time shown any indocility at the moment of voting, resolved to force the government to make a clear and public declaration of its intentions. The debate was opened by M. Thiers in an eloquent speech at the sitting of 4th December. He proved, and the proof was not difficult, that no reliance could be placed on the word of Victor Emmanual or Italian promises. "The House of Savoy," said he, "goes to a falcon hunt with Garibaldi. If the latter fails he is taken to Caprera. If he succeeds, and takes a kingdom, they say to him, you are the revolution: your prey does not belong to you; it is ours, who are order and legality." Jules Favre, a barrister, shamelessly spoke in a contrary sense, and endeavored to justify Italy. His sophistry met with no response.

The minister, M. Rouher, could not retreat. He made a long speech, in which he defended the policy of Napoleon III. against the two former speakers, and involved himself once more in the inconceivable idea of neither sacrificing Italian unity to the Pope's temporal sovereignty nor that sovereignty to Italian unity. (On the one hand, M. Jules Favre objected that Italy, and chiefly amongst others, Menabrea, the actual head of the Florence Cabinet, whose wisdom and moderation had just been praised by the French minister, ceased not to declare that the possession of Rome was indispensable.) On the other hand, there were loud murmurs which protested against the iniquitous equality which was sought to be established between the victim and his executioner. M. Rouher perceived that the majority which the Imperial government had commanded for sixteen years, was on the point of slipping from him; so, turning to Jules Favre, he declared "that he was not agreed with him on any point—that he absolutely rejected his policy." Then, addressing the Conservatives, he affirmed that they would defend Rome so long as the desired reconciliation did not take place—that France would never, never abandon Rome. He concluded by conjuring the deputies to cling to the government which gave the battle of Mentana as a pledge of its sincerity. This declaration was greeted with prolonged applause, and it could no longer be doubted that the vote would be almost unanimous. The deputies, however, determined that the head of their church should not be imperfectly protected, required of the minister a distinct explanation of what he meant by defending Rome. They were resolved that the government should not have the power to give up to Italy the territory around the city which the Pope still possessed, and leave to him only the walls of Rome. This position was maintained by the veteran orator of French parliaments, M. Berryer. A great number of deputies came to his support, so necessary was it understood to be to guard against all subterfuge in transacting with Napoleon III. M. Rouher was constrained to reascend the tribune. He did so, he said, more fully to express his idea, and declared, whilst the Chamber loudly applauded, that the Emperor guaranteed not only the city of Rome, but also the territory actually possessed by the Holy See, in all its integrity. Such was the memorable sitting of 4th December, 1867, at which the will of France was forced on its despotic ruler. But both for him and the country, French writers assure us, it was too late. If the representatives of the nation, they say, had shown from the beginning the same decision; if the empire had always spoken as on the 4th December, 1867; if, above all, it had acted conformably to its words, it would either not have fallen or fallen with honor. But never would we have seen either Italian unity or German unity, and the black flag of Prussia would not wave to-day over Metz, Malhouse and Strasbourg.

Piedmont having withdrawn its threatening force on the approach of the French troops, the Holy See had nothing to dread, for some time at least, from foreign invasion. It remained only to provide against the attacks of banditti such as had been just defeated at Mentana. In this important matter the Holy Father was not left to his own resources. The whole Christian world was in sympathy with him, and anxious for his safety. Volunteers from all Catholic countries hastened to Rome. Even remote Canada, so early as 1868, had sent her three hundred. And these mercenaries, as the enemy called them, served at their own expense. The Bishops of Hungary furnished three squadrons of Hussars, who were all mounted, equipped, and in every way supplied by Hungarian subscriptions. The bishops and nobility of Galicia sent lancers. France, Belgium and Catholic Germany, emulated one another in their efforts to maintain the Pontifical force.

There was nothing warlike in thus providing against possible danger. So long as France held Piedmont bound to treaty stipulations, any army in the service of the Pope could only be employed as a police force in maintaining internal peace, or in repelling such attempts as had recently been made by the irregular bands of Garibaldi against the Pontifical States.

Meanwhile, the arts of peace were not neglected. The Holy Father, as might be supposed, when freed from the fear of invasion and expulsion from his state, applied with renewed zeal to the duties of his sublime office. Nor to these alone did he confine the exercise of his well-directed charity. The agricultural school for children remains a lasting and solid proof of his enlightened benevolence. This establishment is called, in honor of its august founder, the Pio Vigneard (Pia Vigna). It is provided with all the most improved implements, and is confided to the care of the Belgian Brothers of Mercy. It is wholly maintained by the private funds of Pius IX. It may be seen on an eminence to the left of the railway as you approach the city of Rome.

ANNIVERSARY OF THE HOLY FATHER'S ORDINATION.

The anniversary of the elevation of Pius IX. to the Christian priesthood happily occurred during this interval of peace. There was but one feeling throughout the whole Christian world. The warmest expressions of love and devotedness proceeded from every land. All the sovereigns of Europe conveyed by autograph letters their dutiful congratulations, whilst the joy of the people everywhere knew no bounds. At Rome the feast of the golden wedding of Pius IX. lasted three days. Everywhere else, as it fell on the Sunday of the Good Shepherd, it was celebrated in the churches, and often in public places or on the mountains by illuminations or bonfires. Under the name of handsel to Pius IX., the Catholic press opened subscription lists. Notwithstanding the regular payment of Peter's pence, the public generosity was not exhausted.