“Viewed from a political standpoint, how would the papal government in these days appear compared with the great kingdoms of Europe?  Formerly mediocre men succeeded to the pontifical throne at an age in which one breathes well only after resting.  At this period of life routine and habit are everything; and nothing is considered but the elevated position, and how to make it redound to the advantage of his family.  A pope now arrives at sovereign power with a mind sharpened by being accustomed to intrigue, and with a fear of making powerful enemies who may hereafter revenge themselves on his family, since his successor is always unknown.  In fine, he cares for nothing but to live and die in peace.  In the seat of Sixtus V.

[Sixtus V., originally Felix Peretti, born at Montalto, 1525, and in 1585 succeeded Gregory XIII. as pope.  He was distinguished by his energy and munificence.  He constructed the Vatican Library, the great aqueduct, and other public works, and placed the obelisk before St. Peter’s.  Died 1589.]

how many popes have there been who have occupied themselves only with frivolous subjects, as little advantageous to the best interests of religion as fruitful in inspiring scorn for such a government!  But that would lead us too far.”

From the time of his return from Moscow, his Majesty occupied himself with unequaled activity in seeking means to arrest the invasion of the Russians, who, having united with the Prussians since General Yorck’s defection, constituted a most formidable mass.  New levies had been ordered.  For two months he had received and utilized the innumerable offers of horses and cavalry made by all the towns of the Empire, by official bodies, and by rich individuals holding positions near the court, etc.  The Imperial Guard was reorganized under the brave Duke de Frioul, who was alas! a few months later to be torn from his numerous friends.

In the midst of these grave occupations his Majesty did not for a moment lose sight of his cherished plan of making Paris the most beautiful city of the world; and not a week passed without interviews with architects and engineers, who presented estimates, made reports, etc.

“It is a shame,” said the Emperor one day, while inspecting the barracks of the guard, a species of black and smoke-begrimed shed, “it is a shame,” said he to M. Fontaine, “to make buildings as frightful as those of Moscow.  I should never have allowed such a building to be erected.  Are you not my chief architect?”

M. Fontaine excused himself by pointing out to his Majesty that he was not responsible for the buildings of Paris, as although he had the honor of being chief architect of the Emperor, it was for the Tuileries and the Louvre alone.

“That is true,” replied his Majesty; “but could there not be built here,” pointing to the quay, “in place of this wooden dockyard, which produces such a bad effect, a residence for the Italian minister?”