In this way my mission continued to progress even within the walls of a prison. The cardinals, in ordering my incarceration, imagined they had put a stop to my operations, whereas they only accelerated them. We laughed, inside the castle, at the wise precaution of sending me where many of the bravest and the best of the Roman citizens were at that time confined. The city itself was a desert in comparison with the prisons, which were full to overflowing. Had I been allowed to remain unmolested in my own house, I could not have obtained half the success I met with among my fellow-prisoners. Unquestionably I suffered very much in my confinement, separated from my dearest friends, and tormented by the thought of the grief they must feel; but in the midst of these sorrows, I derived consolation from the idea, that the grand work on which I was engaged was, through the grace of God, and the blessing of his Divine providence, steadily advancing. I rejoiced, too, that it was carrying on in Rome, and at the very time, too, when, through foreign compulsion, everything was returning to papacy, and to Pio Nono; who had not only destroyed his own work of liberty, but even the small remains of it that had existed under his predecessors. At a period when the most horrible slavery was imposed on us through the _generosity_ and _consistency_ of the French nation, I alone remained free; I, the most hated of all, the most detested by the pope and the cardinals, even more so than Mazzini himself, I had the privilege granted me by the representatives of the two governments, to make war against the pope and the papacy, with undiminished advantage and success. And this was all they gained in shutting me up in the fortress of St. Angelo. Every time they renewed their persecution of me, I think my power increased. I am not a man to be easily put down. In considering myself as a servant of the Lord, I feel as a rock, on which the tempestuous ocean spends its utmost fury in vain. The severity of my imprisonment denied me the gratification of seeing any of my friends who were at liberty, neither was it in the power of my kind-hearted gaoler to be of service to me in the matter. There were too many doors to pass through; each of them had its own separate turnkey, and it was hopeless to think of conciliating them all. The only person who had hitherto been allowed to visit me was the English consul, Mr. Freeborn, who had, when I was first taken, obtained permission to do so from the French general; but the cardinals interfered afterwards, and gave orders that no permission should be valid except what came from the Inquisition or the pope, so that an end was soon put to his visits.