I moreover felt a conviction that the mission which I had confided to others would be carried out better by one person alone; at least, that I ought at all events to begin it by myself. Having entertained this idea, and becoming more and more satisfied of its propriety, the next consideration was, where and in what manner my operations should take place. It was about the end of the year 1848, whilst I was still in London, doubtful whether or not I should return to Italy, when another thought came into my mind, as to the expediency of my first making a voyage to the United States. In the midst of this uncertainty the news arrived that Pope Pius IX. had fled from Rome. This intelligence, which to some occasioned grief and consternation, and to others equal joy and satisfaction, particularly struck me, not so much as a matter of surprise and wonder, but as involving in it the most important consequences. "So," I exclaimed within myself, "the Pope has fled from Rome--has abandoned the government of his States! The Constitutional Pope has lost his kingdom, he has fallen from his assumed eminence. He is no longer popular, the Romans have ceased to love or to esteem him! he has given them frequent cause of offence, and, on the sixteenth of November, he completed his work of provocation. The Romans are not to be despised--their anger is terrible: in the same degree that they formerly loved, they now abhor the Pontiff! I see him dethroned! He has fled, only to work greater evil; his flight is to betray his people! But he will never return! Woe to him if he should attempt it!" These ideas continued to haunt my mind; I carefully examined and weighed them over, and discerned a connexion between a political event which was known to everybody, and a religious one which was apparent to myself alone. The times were serious; they occasioned me to fall into a profound meditation, and led me to offer up more fervent prayers to the Lord. I went about consulting my friends, and amongst others, one whom I hold in the highest esteem and regard, Sir Culling Eardley Eardley. I passed a day with him at his seat, Belvedere, near Erith. We were both silent some minutes, considering whether it would be prudent for me to go to Rome. "Oh! yes," I exclaimed at last, "the present is the very moment when it would be best for me to go among my brethren, in my native land, to speak of Him who is 'the first-born among many brethren.'[101] The hour is propitious, and I hope I may not lose it; the utmost of my desire is that the door should be opened for me to enter." "But do you not think," suggested Sir Culling, "that your life might be endangered? You know how incensed those priests are against you! If they lay hold of you!----"