ITALY AND PIUS IX.

The doctrine of human progress is a favorite one with republicans. They are loth to believe that mankind has made no progression in the laws of his social and political state. They do not believe that all the bloody revolutions of the past present properly to the view merely the sum total of so many individual struggles between right and force, between reason and authority, between the subject and the tyrant: that they are so many important events in themselves considered, but not necessarily, nor in fact, following each other as effects follow their causes, and bearing immediately upon the liberties and destiny of the race. They can trace the progress of the free principle from its starting point, away back in the distant past: struggling for development now against the secret machinations of its enemies, and now against the imposing array of kingly armies: at one time apparently crushed by the overwhelming power of numbers, and at another rising like a phoenix from its ashes, in the full proportion of its strength and beauty, to adorn and bless the world. They can see it rising in the bosom of the church, and asking for liberty of conscience as opposed to the exactions of a vitiated system of religious worship: then taking the form of a political sentiment, and emboldened by its success in the church, demanding as a right-not asking as a privilege for certain necessary reforms of state. They can see it struggling into light with the free governments of antiquity and the republics of the middle ages, with charters and reform bills, with declarations of independence, with revolutions like those of France overturning the barriers of despotism throughout Europe-flickering beneath the ashes of Polish nationality and Grecian independence, burning brightly among the hardy mountaineers of Switzerland, and reflecting its steady light upon the sky of Italian freedom. In short, they believe in a just God and his superintending providence.

The history of Italy contains within itself a striking exemplification of the struggles of the free-principle. In fact Italy has been the theatre upon which the bloodiest tragedies of the world have been enacted, upon which lawless conquests and dark oppression and inhuman crimes have played their part against the most heroic virtues, the loftiest love of liberty, and the most towering intellect. It is upon her beautiful plains, and beneath her beautiful skies, that the world's greatest poet has laid the most renowned scenes of his story, and drawn his startling pictures of life and character. Here too, lived the poet and the orator, whose words have come down to us through the lapse of centuries, in all the freshness of their originality and power. Here have arisen those lights of political philosophy, and of christian ethics, of science and literature, which have added a lustre to the brightest pages of the

world's history, and for centuries have given to that world more of its civilization and advancement in knowledge, than any other nation upon the face of the earth. Indeed if Italy had never been any thing else than a nation of painters, and if she had produced only a Titian, a Raphael, and an Angelo: if Rome had never been the mistress of the world, and Cæsar had never fought, and Cato had never philosophized, and Horace, and Virgil, and Petrach, and Dante had never sung their immortal songs-still she would have been classed among our most poetic remembrances, as the land where the beautiful was impersonated in every visible form, and where poetry delighted to dwell.

But by a singular kind of fatuity so often visible in those lands where nature has bestowed her most bountiful gifts, the oppression of a bad government has been felt through a long series of years, not only in the political degradation and imbecility of the state, considered relatively in the scale of nations, but in the more miserable condition and prospects of the people-the poor people—the peasantry-the toiling millions-who while they do most to support, feel most the burdens of the government. Half-clothed and fed, without political importance, and surrounded by the spies and insolent officials of Austria, it is no wonder that we should find among the Italian people, a deep-seated distrust of their rulers, and that the half-suppressed murmurs of the more intelligent inhabitants have so often been heard, giving premonitory symptoms of a rebellion, whenever the feelings of hatred that rankle at their hearts shall be directed and controlled by some master mind. This indeed was natural. The disaffection of the people is always the consequence of tyranny, and the only remedy of the tyrant is, as in Italy, a standing army.

But it remained for the congress of Vienna to give the finishing stroke to the oppressive policy under which Italy so long had la bored. The congress of Vienna which assembled about thirty years ago, was a most remarkable body, both in respect to the character of its members and the objects for which it was called. Several of the crowned heads of Europe met in solemn conclave, to determine the destinies of a continent. Their object was really the perpetuation of tyranny. For the better accomplishment of this result, it was thought necessary to denationalize those countries in which the spirit of liberty yet lived. Greece was given to the Sultan, Poland was committed to the gentle protection of Russia, and Italy to the crafty Metternich. The Polish war-song was to be heard no more upon the banks of the Vistula. The cry of revolution was to be hushed forever among the classic islands of the Mediterranean. Monarchy must be rivetted upon the necks of the people with new chains, and the examples of a free state, so odious to its power, must exist no longer upon the continent of Europe. Not only must the external forms of free government be abolished, but those subtle agencies must be resorted to, by which the internal life, the domestic fire-sides of the people, must be reached.

An odious system of police and espoinage was therefore established by means of internal foes and foreign emissaries. The allies of despotism, hired for this base purpose by Austrian gold, were secretly despatched throughout every portion of the Italian territory, to watch the progress and consummation of the tyranical measures adopted by the congress of Vienna. Every expression of sympathy for the people, every sentiment of indignation at the course of their oppressors, every hope of political reformation for unfortunate Italy, was studiously repressed by the patriotic, as well as the prudent, and the people prevented from exchanging and reänimating their felt sympathies by the universal pressure of espoinage, and its sure rewards of the dungeon, of exile and of death, granted by those terrible secret tribunals, which more resembled the Venetian councils than the courts of impartial justice, the whole people presented to the eye of the observer, a state of torpor and political imbecility, as complete as Austria herself could desire. Occasionally, very seldomn indeed, some daring spirit, full of patriotic ardor and impatient of restraint, would break through all the bonds by which it was chafed, and escaping the rigid censorship of the press, would give to the world its free thoughts, its animating sentiments, and its enthusiastic hopes. But the fate of such would be, at least, that of another Silvio Pellico-to live among the condemned felons of an Italian prison, and perhaps to recount with an intenseness of sensibility, and eloquence and power, which the language of Italy alone can express, another record of Le Miec Prigioni.

Gregory XVI. the late Pope, was a fit instrument in the hands of Austria. Whatever might have been his capacity to occupy the Papal chair, he was, at any rate, a weak and superannuated political potentate. He had gathered around him in his council of state, a body of despotic ministers, and he and they and all of his officials, minions of a foreign influence as they were, hesitated not to perpetuate their own power and aggrandizement, by concessions the most humiliating to themselves, the most injurious to the people and the most gratifying to Austria. Under his administration, an infamous army had to be supported by the Italian people, in order thus to support their plunderers and prop up the power of their rulers, in the absence of that moral power which, in the present aspect of affairs in the peninsula, shows itself to be stronger than standing armies. The scales of justice were never equally balanced. Knowledge was not encouraged. Public enterprises, railways and the like, were suppressed for fear of too free communication between the people. And yet with all this surveillance of the police, crimes of the darkest character were enacted, and robberies upon the public highways were frequent and almost undisguised. Even art, which, in the healthy atmosphere of Italy, has always glowed with so much beauty, reflecting the soft tints of her unequalled skies, her purple waters and her inland scenery, with so much of their native brilliancy - art, so necessary to the spirit

ual life of the Italians, and so devoutly worshipped for its expression of the beautiful, that the enthusiasm it enkindles becomes akin to religion this art no longer flourished, as in the days of Italy's glory; the brush was laid upon the easel, and the marble stood half woke to being.

Such was the condition of Italy when Gregory descended to the tomb of his fathers. The conclave for the election of a new Pope, commenced its sittings upon the 11th of June, 1846. On the evening of the 16th, Cardinal Giambatista de Mastai Ferretti, was elected to the ancient head of the Romish Church, under the title of Pius IX.; and on the 21st of the same month, the imposing pageantry of his coronation was witnessed at the Vatican.

What must have been the emotions of the Italian liberals, as they saw ascend to the Pontifical Throne a successor to Gregory, the minion of Austria. They heard the rejoicings of the absolutists, as the guns of St. Angelo announced the election of Pius. They knew not who was the sovereign of Rome, and the head of her church. They had heard of him only as the learned Bishop of Imola. And must they even listen to those rejoicings, and be crushed to the earth by their oppressors? Must Rome ever be a desert? Must the free thoughts and animating hopes of her citi zens be felt in their hearts no more, or struggle into expression upon the pages of her literature? Must the descendants of that once proud race, whose boast it was to say, "I am a Roman citizen," now grovel in the dust, and ask for alms of the stranger, who comes to look upon her buried grandeur? Must they always see in the monuments of the Past, a sad contrast to the ignominy of the Present?

Thank God, it was not so. The time of their deliverance was at hand, when the power of Austria was to be rebuked, and the rights of Italy asserted and maintained. Pius IX. was the political reformer who was to regenerate his country. He was denianded by and adapted to the necessities of the times. Here, then, there were popular grievances to be redressed, and a leader who was capable to control and direct the complicated movements which grew out of them. This was the essential element of revolution. The people were rife for it; its seeds were in their hearts, and it needed only the occasion to develop them. That occasion was the ascension of Pius to the Papal chair, and nobly have the people availed themselves of it.

Pius IX., we are told, was born in the time of the great revolution, and descended from a noble ancestry. In his early life, he was an officer in the army of Napoleon. From some cause, not mentioned, he was induced to throw up his commission and assume the orders of the priesthood. He was afterwards sent as a missionary to Chili, and while on his way, visited the city of New York. His stay in Chili was not a very long one; but it is said, that while upon this field of his labors he was diligently em. ployed in resisting the St. Simonism of France, which had exhi

bited itself with its Atheistic results. He subsequently visited various parts of South America, in his capacity of a priest. Thence being recalled, he was appointed Papal Nuncio to Naples: afterwards Bishop of Imola, and Cardinal; and finally he was raised to the present exaited station of which he is so conspicuous an

ornament.

Pius had been Pope but a few days before he revealed his true character. His first act was to suppress military warrants, and to establish justice. He abolished the old code of laws, and invited a committee of eminence to form a new one. He gave the most liberal encouragement to various academies of learning, and adopted extensive plans of internal improvements. He took measures to place himself in communication with the people and to become informed of the wants of the provinces. He disbanded the infamous army of Gregory, and formed a national guard, with officers of his own appointment. He abolished capital punishment, granted the right of trial by jury, and the liberty of the press, and wisely determined that no man should be proscribed for his political opinions. But this was not all he did. His political wisdom was equalled only by his benevolence. "From the windows of his palace," says a late writer, "the good Pius overlooked the desolate city. The sad silence of the people reminded him of its present wretchedness and of its ancient grandeur. Instead of songs of jubilee, he heard only the sorrowful plaint:

"Roma! Roma! Roma'

Roma non è piu come era prima!"

The ruined capitol, the grass grown streets, trodden no longer by the feet of industry, but by idle monks and beggars. Letters containing supplications from all the cities poured in upon him. "Pius! Pius! have mercy upon us! pity our families, our brothers in exile and misery." Pius heard their supplications and, on the 16th of July, granted a general amnesty to all political offenders. upon this announcement, Rome was filled with joy. "A vast crowd assembled at the Colosseum and at the Capitol, and marched in procession with wax candles and singing joyful songs, to the Monte Cavallo, to return thanks to their chief and beg his benediction. Since the fall of the last of the tribunes, there has been no such day in Rome. The houses throughout the city and every palace, except those of Cardinal Lambruschini and the Austrian Ambassador, were illuminated. The vast crowd moved to the ground under the balcony of the Pope's palace, and here (the third hour after midnight,) he extended his hands and blessed them."

But not only in Rome is Pius thus remembered. Emissaries have been sent from almost every nation-even from the Sultan of Constantinople from South America, from Eugland, France, Prussia and the United States - who have presented to the Pope the gratulations of their respective countries. In this country, public meetings have been held, and the warmest sentiments of