The reformation of Rome is entrusted to Romans. On the reformation of Rome depends that of Roman Catholicism. Those who would concur and co-operate in this work must do it by succouring the Romans.
"Do you think," said one of my companions in prison, one day, "our reform will go on? Will Rome ever be reformed? Will Italy ever become protestant?"
"I believe," replied I, "that Rome will be reformed one day, like London, Berlin, Edinburgh and Geneva."
The question whether Italy will ever become protestant was discussed by me one evening, with the Abate Gioberti, at Paris, in December 1847. He referred me to some pages of his 'Modern Jesuit,' in which it is maintained that Italy never will be protestant: I, on the other hand, referred him to history, to the true history of our country, which shows how great has been the tendency towards protestantism in Italy, and what efforts have been made to promote it. I agreed with the learned Abate that the title of Protestant, as expressive of a division, or religious sect, should be avoided. The Italians, and amongst them the Romans, profiting as they ought to do by three centuries' experience of other nations who have abandoned popery, could not properly denominate themselves anything but Christians. Were they once to renounce the pope, none else could impose upon them either doctrine, form, or name. The questions which to this time have agitated protestantism, and which now divide England into various parties—episcopalian and presbyterian—baptist, methodist, &c. &c., would never disturb the peace of Italy. On right principles the Italian church would be organized with great simplicity, and every one left at full liberty to worship God in the manner best suited to his own spiritual views. What I now call the Italian church does not assume to be a national church, with exclusively privileged forms of government; no, it presents itself to Italy as its ancient church, in the unity of faith and spirit; but in diversity of form, government, and modes of worship. Being thus associated with all the Christian churches throughout the world, it would have nothing exclusively Italian but the language.
In these conversations with my friends, I had the satisfaction to think that what was said to few would be repeated to many. What I uttered within the walls of the castle, in a secret cell, was quickly circulated throughout Rome, and spread abroad, making an impression that could not be effaced. In this manner five months of my imprisonment had already passed away, and I was yet left in ignorance of the crime by which it had been incurred.
I had forwarded my protest to the French government, and the strongest remonstrances had been sent to Paris by my dear brethren of the Evangelical Alliance, yet there appeared to be no prospect of my release; but I may say, with sincerity, that since I have consecrated my life to the Christian ministry, so long as I am engaged in its service I am satisfied. I was now in the full exercise of this ministry during my imprisonment, and no one who has heard my narrative can doubt the satisfaction it gave me. Thus far, therefore, I was contented with my situation; and if I could have supposed that the Roman government would not alter it, but that I might continue to pursue the same course, I should in truth have besought both God and men to leave me in it; because I might perhaps have been more useful, imprisoned in Rome, than at full liberty elsewhere.
But the priests were tired of enduring my boldness and audacity. They took it as an insult to them, that I continued in prison to repeat the very same offences for which I had been incarcerated. All my friends declared to me, that I must either be released and sent out of Rome, by the contrivance of foreigners, or that I should be put out of the way altogether, by the priests themselves.
Reflecting on this idea, I began to think whether it was the will of God my life should be sacrificed; but a voice within seemed to tell me—no. I had done too little, as yet, to see my work so soon crowned with success.
It was the 24th of December—a solemn day in Rome, full of kindly feelings as well as of superstitious observances. On this day good wishes are exchanged and presents made amongst friends; favours are granted, and the boon that should then be asked it would be deemed a sin to deny. We prisoners wished happiness to those who opened our doors, and they cheerfully returned our salutations. My good gaoler, full of benevolence, came to me before I had risen.
"Good morning," said he, "and better luck; I bring you good news."