he designedly prolongs the exile of his master; he draws up the promises of the Motu Proprio, while devising means to elude them.  At length, he returns to Rome, and for ten years continues to reign over a timid old man and an enslaved people, opposing a passive resistance to all the counsels of diplomacy and all the demands of Europe.  Clinging tenaciously to power, reckless as to the future, misusing present opportunities, and day by day increasing his fortune—­after the manner of Sonnino.

In this year of grace 1859, he is fifty-three years of age.  He presents the appearance of a well-preserved man.  His frame is slight and robust, and his constitution is that of a mountaineer.  The breadth of his forehead, the brilliancy of his eyes, his beak-like nose, and all the upper part of his face inspire a certain awe.  His countenance, of almost Moorish hue, is at times lit up by flashes of intellect.  But his heavy jaw, his long fang-like teeth, and his thick lips express the grossest appetites.  He gives you the idea of a minister grafted on a savage.  When he assists the Pope in the ceremonies of the Holy Week he is magnificently disdainful and impertinent.  He turns from time to time in the direction of the diplomatic tribune, and looks without a smile at the poor ambassadors, whom he cajoles from morning to night.  You admire the actor who bullies his public.  But when at an evening party he engages in close conversation with a handsome woman, the play of his countenance shows the direction of his thoughts, and those of the imaginative observer are imperceptibly carried to a roadside in a lonely forest, in which the principal objects are prostrate postilions, an overturned carriage, trembling females, and a select party of the inhabitants of Sonnino!

He lives in the Vatican, immediately over the Pope.  The Romans ask punningly which is the uppermost, the Pope or Antonelli?

All classes of society hate him equally.  Concini himself was not more cordially detested.  He is the only living man concerning whom an entire people is agreed.

A Roman prince furnished me with some information respecting the relative fortunes of the nobility.  When he gave me the list he said,

“You will remark the names of two individuals, the amount of whose property is described as unlimited.  They are Torlonia and Antonelli.  They have both made large fortunes in a few years,—­the first by speculation, the second by power.”

The Cardinals Altieri and Antonelli were one day disputing upon some point in the Pope’s presence.  They flatly contradicted one another; and the Pope inclined to the opinion of his Minister.  “Since your Holiness,” said the noble Altieri, “accords belief to a ciociari[7] rather than to a Roman prince, I have nothing to do but to withdraw.”

The Apostles themselves appear to entertain no very amicable feelings towards the Secretary of State.  The last time the Pope made a solemn entry into his capital (I think it was after his journey to Bologna), the Porta del Popolo and the Corso were according to custom hung with draperies, behind which the old statues of St. Peter and St. Paul were completely hidden.  Accordingly the people were entertained by finding the following dialogue appended to the corner of the street:—­