"I certainly remember that dinner, and the conversation I then held with Cardinal Cappellari, now Pope Gregory. He spoke very forcibly concerning truth, and his words will ever remain engraven on my memory; he extolled it as superior to everything, declared that it was God himself, that all truth proceeded from Him, and that all who obeyed the truth were the sons of God. He spoke of Jesus, the Christ, as the visible form of Truth, who being fully imbued with it, as St. John says, showed to the world that in Him, the Word, the _Logos_, the Divine Wisdom, was incarnate. He reminded me, that in His death, Christ bore witness to the truth; and we cannot better follow Him, and become like unto Him, than by a veneration for, and a strict obedience to the truth. And here, placing his hand on my shoulder, he added, 'My dear friend, ever advocate the truth; live for it, combat for it, even die for it, and God will be your reward.' This holy advice I listened to as if it came from an angel; at that moment I really believed him to be inspired. I remember also another remark he made. Cardinal Castiglioni had exhorted me to read Pallavicino's History of the Council of Trent; to which I replied, that I had already given it a perusal, as well as that by Friar Sarpi. 'Well then,' exclaimed the good old man, 'read Pallavicino again,'--and he thundered his words out so loudly, that some present thought he was angry with me. 'What's the matter with Castiglioni? asked Cappellari. 'He wishes me,' I replied, 'to read over and over again the History of the Council of Trent by Pallavicino.' 'He is so passionately fond of that history, that he advises every body to read it,' observed Cappellari; 'for my own part, I should like to see a third writer on the subject, who would give us the true account of that Council. But this work, which ought to be written in Rome, and from the archives of the Vatican, could never be published there.' 'Then,' observed I, 'the truth must not be spoken in Rome!' to which Cardinal Cappellari replied with a smile and a sigh." Olivieri listened to me with profound attention, then wrung my hand, and recommended me anew to pay my respects to the pope. There was at this time living in Rome a very respectable man, a certain Father Parchetti. He was well known to a great many people, but had few friends. His universal talent in all kinds of literature had gained him considerable reputation; he was of a liberal and kindly disposition, a keen investigator in all matters of science, and was more worthy of honours than he was ambitious in looking after them; he had, in fact, never received any promotion, simply because he despised it. Strict in his own habits of life, he was indulgent towards others: kind and charitable to the poor, and easy of access to all who were not themselves proud or overbearing. He was a great talker, and was sometimes sarcastic and even satirical in his speech, which arose from a naturally ardent temperament.