tive of Victor Emmanuel's character in its strong and weak points. The more one studies it, the more one appreciates the just and well-balanced mind, the simple sincerity, the large-hearted humanity, of the man Victor Emmanuel, apart from his qualities as king, in which the world has acknowledged his merit.

CHAPTER XXXIV.

DRAWING TO A CLOSE. A.D. 1877.

VICTOR EMMANUEL had been now seven years reigning in Rome, and notwithstanding the difficult relations between Church and State, and other trials which the young nation had to struggle against, public affairs had gone on with wonderful order and tranquillity. The heads of the Church and State reigned in their respective palaces of the Vatican and the Quirinal, each living in his world apart, as if they had been in different hemispheres.

Pius IX., after an unusually stirring, eventful career, for a churchman, had sunk into political insignificance, and the world heard little of him, if we except the small commotion caused by an occasional flock of pilgrims in the Eternal City, or the reception of a number of foreign visitors desirous of seeing with their own eyes that most interesting personage called the Prisoner of the Vatican. The Holy Father received these visitors benignly, talked pleasantly with them, gave them his benediction, and his small white hand to kiss.

Hundreds of anecdotes were afloat as to how serenely -nay gaily-the good old man bore his imprisonment;

and many of his witticisms relate to his own peculiar position, as when he remarked on Garibaldi's arrival in Rome, 'We were two; now we are three. These bon mots, and an occasional allocution, were all that was heard of the Pope after the Italians took possession of the ancient capital. The bitterness of the pastorals and his private gaiety-the contrast between the ideal martyr-pope lying on a bed of straw, and the charming courtly gentleman whose green old age reposed in a home which the proudest monarch in Europe might envy, had a rather irritating effect on the Italian public mind. Pio Nono, however, was not wilfully false or deceptive, but he had a dual character: as Pope he felt it his duty to cry out about the persecutions of the Church, while as a man he was gentle and amiable, and did not feel towards Victor Emmanuel the animosity with which he was accredited. He sometimes, to the king's friends, spoke kindly of him as a buon figliuolo, and wrote, when occasion required, in a not unfriendly spirit. One instance will serve to show that it was as much from the influence of those around him as from principle, that Pius IX. refused all intercourse with the King of Italy. In 1872 the Pope, wishing to suppress some scandal of which he had become cognisant, wrote in his own hand, without consulting Antonelli, a letter to the king, asking him to use his authority for the removal of the said abuse. One of the Noble Guards arrived at the Quirinal, saying he had orders from the Pope to consign the letter into his majesty's hands. The king was pleased to recognise the Pope's own characters, and pleased also

with the contents; for in that letter he acknowledged him as a constitutional sovereign, telling him to use his power as far as it went, and 'consult his ministers.' It concluded with these words, 'Full of paternal affection, I pray God for your majesty, I pray Him for Italy, and I pray Him for the Church.'

Thus in private Pio Nono's kind heart sometimes spoke, in spite of the constant guard he kept upon it. His public denunciations were for the edification of the Catholic world, which must also have been edified by the Christian humility with which Victor Emmanuel bore these public denunciations and private snubbings from the Vatican, never failing in deferential respect towards the Holy Father. And from a heretic point of view there seems something noble in the meekness with which the proud conqueror bowed before his aged and impotent foe, pleading for his friendship, and saying he was ready to abdicate if that could spare him pain. Pius IX. would have been more (or less) than man if he had not been touched by the attitude of Victor Emmanuel towards him personally; and there is no doubt that he was, though his court was at great pains to conceal the fact.

The liberation of Rome by the monarchy had silenced those restless spirits who had so long made it their warcry; and Garibaldi, after sulking for years, and making common cause with the republicans, was elected deputy to the national Parliament, took a solemn oath of allegiance to the King of Italy, and in a long private audience all differences were explained away and the heroes reconciled. In presence of the great national

triumph there was a general truce to the hostilities of party, all uniting in testimonies of admiration and gratitude to the sovereign whose brave, firm hand had guided the ship of state into port. It is sometimes said of constitutional sovereigns that they reign but do not govern. Victor Emmanuel never was a royal puppet of this sort. As head of the state, he exercised his authority judiciously, and assisted his ministers with his wise, moderate counsels, balancing the extremes of opinion. Not long ago he was asked by a distinguished foreigner if his ministers were not Radical. To which he replied with a smile, And if they were, what matter? Am I not here? If, instead of Radicals, as you say, I had a ministry of Cardinals, things should go on in the same way.' And when some one hoped that on the occasion of the expected conclave, public matters would be conducted with tolerance and moderation, he said, 'Be tranquil; all will go well. Remember that the leader of the choir is always the same.'

Victor Emmanuel was now at the zenith of his glory; his utmost ambition was attained. He had found Italy oppressed by a host of petty tyrants, dominated by Austria, torn by lawless combinations, misjudged and condemned by the other countries of Europe, She was now a free united nation, tranquil and lawabiding, respected everywhere. At peace with all the world, beloved and honoured by his people, what was left for him to desire? He might say with the poet

I have touched the highest point of all my greatness.