A further means of amalgamation has been found in the existence of the double embassies of the great powers.  Austria, France and Spain each send an Ambassador to the King of Italy and an Ambassador to the Pope, of like state and importance.  Even Protestant Prussia maintains a Minister Plenipotentiary to the Holy See.  Russia has her diplomatic agent to the Vatican, and several of the smaller powers keep up two distinct legations.  It is naturally neither possible nor intended that these diplomatists should never meet on friendly terms, though they are strictly interdicted from issuing official invitations to each other.  Their point of contact is another grey square on the chess-board.

The foreigner, too, is generally a neutral individual, for if his political convictions lean towards the wrong side of the Tiber his social tastes incline to Court balls; or if he is an admirer of Italian institutions, his curiosity may yet lead him to seek a presentation at the Vatican, and his inexplicable though recent love of feudal princedom may take him, card-case in hand, to that great stronghold of Vaticanism which lies due west of the Piazza di Venezia and due north of the Capitol.

During the early years which followed the change, the attitude of society in Rome was that of protest and indignation on the one hand, of enthusiasm and rather brutally expressed triumph on the other.  The line was very clearly drawn, for the adherence was of the nature of personal loyalty on both sides.  Eight years and a half later the personal feeling disappeared with the almost simultaneous death of Pius IX. and Victor Emmanuel II.  From that time the great strife degenerated by degrees into a difference of opinion.  It may perhaps be said also that both parties became aware of their common enemy, the social democrat, soon after the disappearance of the popular King whose great individual influence was of more value to the cause of a united monarchy than all the political clubs and organisations in Italy put together.  He was a strong man.  He only once, I think, yielded to the pressure of a popular excitement, namely, in the matter of seizing Rome when the French troops were withdrawn, thereby violating a ratified Treaty.  But his position was a hard one.  He regretted the apparent necessity, and to the day of his death he never would sleep under the roof of Pius the Ninth’s Palace on the Quirinal, but had his private apartments in an adjoining building.  He was brave and generous.  Such faults as he had were no burden to the nation and concerned himself alone.  The same praise may be worthily bestowed upon his successor, but the personal influence is no longer the same, any more than that of Leo XIII. can be compared with that of Pius IX., though all the world is aware of the present Pope’s intellectual superiority and lofty moral principle.