persuaded that there was only one place for them—­the Hospital for Incurables.  After the fall of Rome, Pius IX. issued a sort of canticle from Gaeta, in which he thanked the Lord at whose bidding the stormy ocean had been arrested, but he did not even so much as say thank you to the French, without whom, nevertheless, the stormy ocean would have proceeded on its way.  To all suggestions from Paris that now that victory had been won by force the time was come for the Sovereign to give some guarantee that it would not be abused, the Pope turned a completely deaf ear.  ‘The Pope,’ said M. Drouyn de Lhuys, ’prefers to return to Rome upon the dead bodies of his subjects rather than amidst the applause which would have greeted him had he taken our advice.’  That advice referred in particular to the secularisation of the public administration, and this was exactly what the Pope and the ex-Liberal Cardinal Antonelli, now and henceforth his most influential counsellor, were determined not to concede.  They had grown wise in their generation, for a priest whose ministers are laymen is as much an anomaly as a layman whose ministers are priests.  The French government desired that the Statute should be maintained, and demanded judicial reforms and an amnesty for political offenders.  None of these points was accepted except the last, and that only nominally, as the amnesty of the 18th of September did not put a stop to proscriptions and vindictive measures.  Count Mamiani, whose stainless character was venerated in all Italy, and who had devoted all his energies to the attempt to save the Papal government after the Pope’s flight, was ruthlessly excluded, and so were many other persons who, though liberal-minded, had shown signal devotion to the Holy See.  All sorts of means were used to serve the ends of vengeance; for instance, Alessandro Calandrelli, a Roman of high reputation, who held office under the republic, was condemned to death for high treason, and to twenty years at the galleys, on a trumped-up charge of theft, which was palpably absurd; but the Pope, while quashing the first sentence, confirmed the second, and Calandrelli would have remained in prison till the year of grace 1870, as many others did, but for the chance circumstance that his father had been a friend of the King of Prussia, who took up his cause so warmly that after two years he was let out and sent to Berlin, where the King and A. von Humboldt received him with open arms.

These were the auspices under which Pius IX. returned to Rome after seventeen months’ absence.  A four-fold invasion restored the Temporal Power, which Fenelon said was the root of all evil to the Church, but which, according to Pius IX., was necessary to the preservation of the Catholic religion.  The re-established regime was characterised by Lord Clarendon at the Congress of Paris as ‘the opprobrium of Europe.’  The Pope tried to compensate for his real want of independence (for a prince who could not stand a day without foreign bayonets,