Pius IX., whose intellectual powers were far from equal to the largeness of his heart, soon became involved in difficulties. His constant dread of acting prejudicially to the interests of the Church weighed him down; and the influence of Count Ludolf (Neapolitan Minister at Rome, well known for his retrogressive opinions) probably thwarted his good intentions in no small degree. From want of confidence in himself, as well as from despair at the impediments, subjective and objective, which perpetually obtruded themselves upon him, Pius had recourse for protection and direction to the counsel of others. Ill advisers were those whom he chose—Grasselini, Gizzi, and Antonelli. The results of vacillation and evil communication were speedily visible. Already, in November, 1846, a few short months after his accession, in his address to the Patriarchs and Archbishops, he roundly condemned everything that bore the name of _Progress_ as _seductive, false, deceitful, seditious, foolish, and destructive of ties religious, political, and social_. The first notable act of the reign of Pius IX. had been to grant a general amnesty to all political offenders. This act of clemency, though it gained for him a certain amount of well-deserved popularity, unhappily smothered in the heart of Ferdinand II. all the veneration with which that monarch had been wont to regard the occupants of St. Peter’s chair. The King even went so far, in his indignation, as to stigmatise the Pope as the head of “Young Italy.” With his people it was different. The sensation created at Naples by this amnesty was intense. The inhabitants demanded that it should be placarded throughout the city; the King, however, not only set his face against the proposal, but peremptorily forbade all demonstrations in favour of His Holiness, suppressed the sale of his portraits, and interdicted the admission into the country of Roman newspapers. Indeed, the very mention of the Pope’s name was regarded as bordering on treason, and as calling for the notice of the police.