If occasionally officials of a certain rank are punished, if even the law is put in force against them with unusual vigour, rest assured the public interest has no part in the business.  The real springs of action are to be sought elsewhere.  Take as an example the Campana affair, which created such a sensation in 1858.

This unfortunate Marquis succeeded his father and his grandfather as Director of the Monte di Pieta, or public pawnbroking establishment.  His office placed him immediately under the control of the Finance Minister.  It was that Minister’s duty to overlook his acts, and to prevent him from going wrong.

Campana went curiosity mad.  The passion of collecting, which has proved the ruin of so many well-meaning people, drove him to his destruction.  He bought pictures, marbles, bronzes, Etruscan vases.  He heaped gallery on gallery.  He bought at random everything that was offered to him.  Rome never had such a terrible buyer.  He bought as people drink, or take snuff, or smoke opium.  When he had no more money of his own left to buy with, he began to think of a loan.  The coffers of the Monte di Pieta were at hand:  he would borrow of himself, upon the security of his collection.  The Finance Minister Galli offered no difficulties.  Campana was in favour at Court, esteemed by the Pope, liked by the Cardinals; his principles were known, he had proved his devotion to those in power.  The Government never refuses its friends anything.  In short Campana was allowed to lend himself L4,000, for which he gave security to a much larger amount.

But the order by which the Minister gave him permission to draw from the coffers of the Monte di Pieta was so loosely drawn up, that he was enabled to take, without any fresh authority, a trifle of something like L106,000.  This he took between the 12th of April, 1854, and the 1st of December 1856, a period of nineteen months and a half.

There was no concealment in the transaction; it certainly was irregular, but it was not clandestine.  Campana paid himself the interest of the money he had lent himself.  In 1856 he was paternally reprimanded.  He received a gentle rap over the knuckles, but there was not the least idea of tying his hands.  He stood well at Court.

The unfortunate man still went on borrowing.  They had not even taken the precaution to close his coffers against himself.  Between the 1st of December, 1856, and the 7th of November, 1857, he took a further sum of about L103,000.  But he gave grand parties; the Cardinals adored him; testimonies of satisfaction poured in upon him from all sides.

The real truth is that a national pawnbroking establishment is of no use to the Church, it is only required for the nation.  Campana might have borrowed the very walls of the building, without the Pontifical Court meddling in the matter.