how I felt this, some nights ago, as I sat closeted with our present ruler--would you believe it, Michel, he has no higher guide or example than the weak and kind-hearted Pius the Seventh? To imitate _him_ is the whole rule of his faith, and to resemble him, even in his misfortunes, has become an ambition. How he strung for me the commonplaces of that good man, as though they had been the distilled essences of wisdom! Alas! alas! the great heritage of the Church has not been won by Quaker Popes. “You ask about myself. All goes well. The die is cast; and so far, at least, a great point gained. The Austrians saw the matter in its true light, and with justice perceived that diplomacy is a war of reprisals. How I glory in the anticipation of this vengeance upon England, the encourager and abettor of all the treason against our Faith! How little do they suspect the storm that is gathering around them; how tranquilly are they walking over the ground that is to be earthquaken! The letters and diplomas are all prepared. The Bull itself is ready; to-morrow, if it were opportune, I might be proclaimed a prince of the Church and an Archhishop of an English see! As in every great event of life the moment is everything, the question is now one of time. Guardoni--and I look upon him as the shrewdest of the cardinals--says, 'Wait! our cause is advancing every day in England; every post brings us tidings of desertions to our army,--men distinguished in rank, station, or intellect. In our controversies we have suffered no defeats, while our moderation has gained us many well-wishers; we have a tone of general liberality to work upon that is eminently favorable to a policy meek, lowly, and unpretending. Therefore, I say, Wait; and do not forfeit such advantages for the glory of a pageant' Against this it might be urged, that the hour is come to proclaim our victory; and that it would be a craven policy not to unfurl our banner above the walls we have won! I repose less trust in the force of this reasoning than in another view of the subject; and it is to the ricochet of our shot, Michel, that I look for the damage of our enemy. My calculation is this: the bold pretensions we advance will arouse the passions of the whole island; meetings and addresses and petitions will abound. All the rampant insolence of outraged bigotry, all the blatant denunciations of insulted protestantism, will burst forth like a torrent. We shall be assailed in pamphlets and papers; caricatured, hooted, burned in effigy. A wily and well-conducted opposition on our part will fan and feed this flame. Some amongst us will assume the moderate tone: invoke the equality that pertains to every born Briton, and ask for