ITALY.
On the evening of the 7th of May, the Count Piero Guicciardini, the descendant of the great historian, had met in a private house in Florence six persons whose names are given in a decree, and before the party broke up, Count Guicciardini read and expounded a chapter of the Gospel of St. John. At ten o'clock the house was entered by eight gendarmes; a perquisition began, in the style now customary in Tuscany; the depositions of the party assembled were taken down; and as it was fully proved by such depositions that a chapter of the Bible had been read by Count Guicciardini, the whole of the seven offenders were straightway led to the police delegation of Santa Maria Novella, where their arrest was signed by the delegate, and a little after midnight they were lodged in the Bargello, or public prison. For ten days Count Guicciardini and his companions were kept in confinement and subjected to repeated examinations, and finally the sentence of forced residence in different parts of the Tuscan Maremme was passed on each of the accused. This illustration of the liberality of the Roman Catholic Church—though in perfect keeping with its perpetual policy—has produced a profound sensation. It might have escaped without much observation but for the eminence of the parties, and the claims made lately in England, that the Roman Catholic authorities were as tolerant as they asked that others should be to them, in all matters of personal rights.
The French military commandant in Rome has been exercising his authority with great, but probably requisite severity. Two Roman soldiers have been tried by French court martial, and executed for riotous conduct, and seven others have been doomed to the same fate. The Pope also has been threatened with expulsion from the Quirinal Palace, which the above-mentioned authority thought at one time would be essential as a military post. So far, the weak-minded holder of St. Peter's keys has not suffered the mortification of a second forced retreat, although, between his military guardians of France and Austria and his own discontented subjects, his position is scarcely an enviable one. The three young Englishmen arrested at Leghorn yet remain imprisoned; but their real names do not appear.