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.