The curé was my next visitor. He also agreed heartily in the wisdom of my army reform. He listened without dissent to my proposal for the gradual cessation of the small grant to the priests, including that to himself. On the other hand, when I spoke about the necessity of procuring lay teachers for the schools, he began to weep. I changed the subject, and when I allowed him to leave the room he said, with a singularly sweet smile, that he would go with my reforms as far as he could, that so just a man as my Highness would not harm his country, that God would watch over his church. I was touched by Abbé Ramin.

Dr. Coulon was then shown in. A man of intellect, as I could see at the first glance. I set before him my army reform, and he was delighted with it. I touched upon the separation of church and state, and he said that it was not hard to be done at Monaco—in name, that is, but difficult indeed to be done in fact. Still he supposed the name of separation was what I wanted, and the gradual cessation of the stipends, which would put Monaco in accord with the modern movement. I then referred to education.

He shook his head, and answered, “I should be your Highness’s sole supporter, and I am a materialist, and only tolerated here on account of my medical skill, and placed on the Council of Education because, as I am not in the habit of running my head against stone walls, I always side with the Jesuits.”

I insisted on the vast improvement in the standard of secular education to be expected from the introduction of highly trained lay teachers, and said that the priests should be absolutely free to teach the children out of school hours.

His reply was a singular one, and shook me.

“Your Highness is a democrat,” he said. “How then can your Highness impose your will in this matter upon a people who are unanimous? If your Highness wishes to escape individual responsibility for the existence of the present state of things, your Highness can dissolve the council of state and institute an elective parliament. That parliament would consist, let us say, of twelve members. If so, eleven would be priests or Jesuits, and the twelfth M. Blanc of the Casino—a body which would resemble in complexion some of the school boards in your Highness’s favourite England. Your Highness has a heavy task, and if that task be persevered in, I fear that the state of your Highness’s nerves will be such as to require my prescriptions.”

He was very free in his conversation, the old doctor, but it was a pleasing change after Baron Imberty and M. de Payan; not but what Abbé Ramin had much attracted me.

I did my best to charm Père Pellico. I courted him as my other subjects courted me. He was expansive in manner; but I am not a fool, and though only twenty-four, I knew enough of human nature to see that there was another Père Pellico underneath the smiling case-work which talked to me. To my military reform he had no objection, provided I exempted Jesuit students from service. I answered that I would exempt all those at present in Monaco, to which he replied that he feared then that I should never have the pleasure of seeing any others. I thought to myself “here is”—but Père Pellico smiled and slowly spoke again.

“Your Highness was thinking, I venture to imagine, that that would be an additional reason for hurrying your military reform. But I must crave the pardon of your Highness for speaking except in reply to your Highness. I have not the habit of courts.”

I spoke then of the Church; he was indifferent—the salaries of his four professors could easily be got from Italy. I then touched upon education.