On England no dependence can be placed.  She is guided by no great idea; her Parliamentary leaders sneer at sentimental policy, and the “jargon” of ideas.  She will act, as always, for her own interest; and the interest of her present government is becoming more and more the crushing of the democratic tendency.  They are obliged to do it at home, both in the back and the front parlor; it would not be decent as yet to have a Spielberg just at home for obstreperous patriots, but England has so many ships, it is just as easy to transport them to a safe distance.  Then the Church of England, so long an enemy to the Church of Rome, feels a decided interest with it on the subject of temporal possessions.  The rich English traveller, fearing to see the Prince Borghese stripped of one of his palaces for a hospital or some such low use, thinks of his own twenty-mile park and the crowded village of beggars at its gate, and muses:  “I hope to see them all shot yet, these rascally republicans.”

How I wish my country would show some noble sympathy when an experience so like her own is going on.  Politically she cannot interfere; but formerly, when Greece and Poland were struggling, they were at least aided by private contributions.  Italy, naturally so rich, but long racked and impoverished by her oppressors, greatly needs money to arm and clothe her troops.  Some token of sympathy, too, from America would be so welcome to her now.  If there were a circle of persons inclined to trust such to me, I might venture to promise the trust should be used to the advantage of Italy.  It would make me proud to have my country show a religious faith in the progress of ideas, and make some small sacrifice of its own great resources in aid of a sister cause, now.

But I must close this letter, which it would be easy to swell to a volume from the materials in my mind.  One or two traits of the hour I must note.  Mazzarelli, chief of the present ministry, was a prelate, and named spontaneously by the Pope before his flight.  He has shown entire and frank intrepidity.  He has laid aside the title of Monsignor, and appears before the world as a layman.

Nothing can be more tranquil than has been the state of Rome all winter.  Every wile has been used by the Oscurantists to excite the people, but their confidence in their leaders could not be broken.  A little mutiny in the troops, stimulated by letters from their old leaders, was quelled in a moment.  The day after the proclamation of the Republic, some zealous ignoramuses insulted the carriages that appeared with servants in livery.  The ministry published a grave admonition, that democracy meant liberty, not license, and that he who infringed upon an innocent freedom of action in others must be declared traitor to his country.  Every act of the kind ceased instantly.  An intimation that it was better not to throw large comfits or oranges during the Carnival, as injuries have thus been sometimes caused, was obeyed with equal docility.