he had so long usurped and abused; and the 11th of April 1814, will be long hailed over Europe as the epoch when liberty, peace and good order were restored to its inhabitants, after the long and stormy reign of oppression, war and anarchy had so long precluded the expected time of which it was impossible entirely to despair—­when Europe, so long a prey to dissension, should again be united as one common family.  These hopes have at last been realized; the evils of the French Revolution (more productive of misfortune than the fabled box of Pandora) have in a manner been surmounted; and we have only further to wish, that the nations who have restored tranquillity to Europe, may continue to act with the moderation for which they have hitherto been distinguished [guess:  distinguished].

It was natural, in beholding a place rendered memorable by such great events,—­events which are probably destined to fix the fortunes of succeeding centuries, that the mind should dwell with more than common attention on the scene, and give itself up to the reflections it was calculated to produce.  My thoughts were principally engaged in considering the very opposite characters of Pius VII. and of Buonaparte.

In the first we see united all that can give dignity to an exalted station, or that is praiseworthy in private life.  We see him disposed as much as possible to conciliation, and even persuaded by his cardinals to cross the Alps in the most inclement season notwithstanding his advanced age, to crown the Usurper of France, in the expectation of advancing the interests of religion, by consenting to submit to a power which then appeared but too firmly established.  The hopes of the pope were not realized; Buonaparte soon forgetting past services, made demands which he well knew could not be complied with, and amongst them that his holiness should declare war against England, and that too without the slightest motive for such a proceeding on his part, as he stated in his manifesto against the outrages of Buonaparte, a paper which must affect all who peruse it, and excite their regret that the pope was not in a situation effectually to preserve that independence which did such honour to his heart.

The new-made emperor was not, however, to be reasoned with but by force; and in about four years after the pope had placed the diadem on his head, he caused him to be removed from his capital as a prisoner, and united the Ecclesiastical States to the dominions of France.  The spirit of the pope was still unsubdued, and he refused, for himself and his cardinals, all offers of subsistence from the usurper of their possessions.  When urged to come to some agreement with Buonaparte, he answered that his regret at having accepted the late Concordat, would be a sufficient security against his being again deceived.  And when the cardinals represented the evils which might result from his refusal, he answered, “Let me die worthy