Art. I. 1. Vita apologetica della Santa Memoria del Sommo Pontefice Pio VI, Pellegrino Appostolico. Soleta, 1818. 4to.

2. Mémoires du Pontificat de Pie VI, pour servir à l’Histoire du Gouvernement Ecclésiastique, pendant les premières années de la Révolution. Lion, 1817.

THE life of Pius VI. is the most interesting which the history of the Popes has afforded in modern times: But we cannot say much for either of the publications into which it is here digested. The Italian biographer we take to be a subject of Austria,—from the great caution he has used to conceal his name, and to publish his apology beyond the limits of its territory :—for that government, since the restoration of its Italian dominions, has been as jealous of the Popes, and of the liberty of the press, as Napoleon himself. In substance, the work is rather more of a panegyric than an apology. The author wishes to represent his hero as a saint : and accordingly dwells chiefly on his later years, and the afflictions and humiliations which darkened his closing scene. In spite of this pathetic contrivance, however, cunning readers will probably conclude, that there must have been great faults in a reign, the details of which an apologist finds it thus advisable to suppress.

The French work is little more than a new and castigated edition of the Mémoires Secretes de la Vie de Pie VI., published at Paris in 1798, for the laudable purpose of exposing the corruptions, and recommending the subversion of the Papal government. It was reprinted, with some slight alterations, and probably with the same views, in 1807 ; but now that this object has been abandoned, the changes are much more considerable, and the work has assumed a more literary and less ambitious character ; most of the calumnies against the Pope, and all the indecent jokes on the rites of his religion are retrenched, and their places filled with some tolerably free stories of gay ladies and amorous ecclesiastics ; which will probably answer nearly as well in promoting the sale of the work, but assuredly will neither add to the dignity, the morality, or the authentic materials of History.

We shall not attempt, therefore, to give any abstract of either of the publications before us ; but shall endeavour, from other and more authentic sources of information, to which we happen to have access, to lay before our readers a short summary of the long life of Pius VI., and to determine in what degree the policy which he pursued can be held to have contributed to those great and disastrous events which signalized the later years of his Pontificate.

Angiolo Braschi, born about 1720, was the last male representative of a noble family in Cesena, the ruin of whose fortunes drove him in early youth from the place of his nativity,—which he never revisited till after his elevation to the Popedom. He followed the profession of the law for some years in Rome, with no very brilliant success, but with more reputation for subtlety than eloquence. He was at last created a Prelate by the Cardinal Rezzonico, nephew of the reigning Pope Clement XIII.,—a barren and nominal dignity, and chiefly of value as designating those who are intended for more substantial preferment. The Pope had a taste for magnificence, and his nephews a strong desire to make their fortunes. Braschi was first employed as an architect—and afterwards made Grand Treasurer to the Church. He had some skill in architecture, but none in finance ; and put himself into the hands of certain great bankers—a class of persons who never fail to prosper when a state is in want of money. On the accession of Clement XIV. (Ganganelli), the treasurer was suddenly called to account ; and though he contrived, by the help of Giovanetti, to disguise his mismanagement under a formidable array of ciphers and calculations, he was immediately dismissed with more than usual harshness. The new Pope, however, could not help making him a Cardinal ; this being a reward, it seems, to which all who have served in the office of Treasurer are legally entitled. Fortunately for corruption and incapacity, it is a settled maxim at Rome, that to impeach any of the high functionaries of that government, would be to impeach the infallibility which is known to belong to its great head, and would consequently throw discredit on the inspired wisdom of all the successors of St Peter. Ganganelli showed his displeasure, however, by awarding a very scanty pension to the new Cardinal, whose poverty was only made more conspicuous by the dignity of his rank, and whose actual insignificance was only cheered by dreams of his future greatness. The ex-treasurer was capable of gratitude, and was fortunate enough to inspire it. A person of the name of Gnudi, had acquired great wealth under his patronage, and now ministered to his necessities ; a liberality, of which he never ceased to reap the fruits during the long pontificate of his now necessitous master.

In modern as well as in antient Rome, the affectation of imbecility is often the mask of the most determined ambition ; and Braschi, in that mother-land of intrigue, appears to have acted on the model of the elder Brutus. Without counterfeiting absolute incapacity, he held out the appearance of the most contented and unpretending mediocrity. He passed his time with persons of irreproachable morals and inferior talents ; and, without affecting any austerity or zeal for religion, displayed in all his conduct a quiet submission to its authority. He neither sought to distinguish himself by a passion for literature like Lambertini, nor for the arts like Rezzonico, nor for the liberality of his philosophical opinions like Ganganelli. His poverty, and the simplicity of his life, disarmed all suspicions of his ambitious designs ; and while his friends predicted nothing for him but a life of quiet insignificance, his more aspiring brethren either overlooked him in silent contempt, or reckoned upon him as a safe and pliant auxiliary in their own struggles for distinction. The death of Ganganelli in 1775, and the proceedings of that Conclave which raised him to the Popedom, contrary to the wishes and intentions of most of its members, at once disclosed the objects and the fruits of this long dissimulation.

We do not presume to explain the whole mechanism of that complicated and mysterious process by which Cardinals hatch a new Pope,—as the hive, upon the demise of their sovereign, hatch a new queen bee. But some particulars, not altogether uninteresting, may be mentioned. The number of Cardinals is generally about seventy—seldom more than two or three under or over. Of these the greater part are altogether insignificant and passive, and mere tools in the hands of a few active leaders. These efficient persons again are generally divided, when a Conclave is held, into two regular factions or parties ; the one consisting of those who had held office in the time of the last Pope, —the other of those who had been raised into consequence by his immediate predecessor ; for as Popes are generally elected in advanced life, their partisans survive them for a long time, and acquire, by experience and management, an influence quite equal to that which belongs to the recent possessors of authority. A third interest in conclaves, and often the most considerable of any, is that of the Foreign Cardinals, who represent the political views of the Catholic States to which they respectively belong. Since the middle of the 16th century, when the overbearing supremacy of the Holy See first began to be questioned, the Catholic powers have commonly insisted on the papal election being made, on the principle of the balance of power,—and France, Spain and Portugal have always claimed, and exercised, the power of interposing with an absolute veto against any individual nomination. It is enough to exclude any candidate, that the representative of any of these powers shall announce, Il mio Re non lo vuole. Austria substantially enjoys the same right, though it is not formally recognised. Since the time of Adrian VI., who was obtruded by Charles V., all the Popes have been Italians. The Cardinals, who are all settled in that country, are resolute not to give themselves a foreign master ;—and the States that must otherwise contend for the preference, are generally content with the compromise. The only other general principle seems to be, that the choice shall fall on one with talent enough to save the office from degradation and abuse,—but not of that commanding genius that would defy control, or disdain assistance.—Constitutionally, the Pope is a very absolute sovereign ; but, in practice, he is generally but the head of an Oligarchy.

In 1775, the great question in the Catholic Church was the restoration or continued suppression of the Jesuits. That extraordinary body had no doubt become formidable to the Holy See itself ;—but, on the whole, it was the decided wish, as well as the manifest interest of the Church, to restore them. They had been by far the most powerful champions of the Catholic faith, and had done the most to restore it to its antient influence and splendour ;—while no small part of the great wealth which they collected in the cities of Europe, and their great establishments in Asia and America, found its way to Rome, and helped to maintain the pomp of the Vatican, as well as to gratify the cupidity of the more powerful Cardinals. On the other hand, all the temporal princes of Europe insisted on their suppression ; and Ganganelli, probably recollecting the example of our Henry VIII., had thought it prudent to comply.—He was now no more ;—and it was the great object of the Catholic sovereigns to prevent him from being succeeded by one of greater enterprise and resolution ;—while all those who shared lit the devoted and insatiable ambition of the priesthood, were anxious above all things for the restoration of this dominant order. It was by availing himself of the eagerness of these two parties, and being false to them both, that Braschi became Pius VI.

The Cardinal Rezzonico, his first patron, was the great advocate of the Jesuits ;—and knowing the secret ambition and boldness of Braschi’s character, privately proposed to use his great influence in raising him to the Pontificate, provided he would rescind the act of their suppression. The proposition was accepted ; and their manœuvres were begun with all those refinements of duplicity which have so long distinguished the policy of Italian intriguers. The night before the Conclave was assembled, Braschi, on the advice of his patron, went secretly to the ambassadors of all the Catholic sovereigns then in Rome ; and after frightening them with stories of Rezzonico’s zeal for the Jesuits, which was sufficiently well known, and of the efforts he would make to get himself elected, assured them, that if they would give their aid and influence to himself, he would undertake for ever to defeat the schemes of Rezzonico and all his adherents. Their Excellencies knew too little of the real character of their visitor, to think this the most feasible way to effect the object in view ; but had no hesitation in promising, that their veto and their influence should be employed in support of that party which was most able and willing to keep down the obnoxious order.

After the Conclave is once assembled, its members can hold no avowed communication with the external world, till the great work of election is concluded ;—nor is it easy to learn with precision what takes place during their long seclusion. It is known, however, that as the concurrence of a certain number is indispensably necessary, and all the suffrages are given in sealed writings, it is usual for the opposite parties mutually to try their strength, and to mask their own designs, or penetrate those of their opponents, by a long series of tentative or preparatory elections, in which the pretended favourites are always so multiplied, as that none shall have any chance of uniting the requisite number of voters, while, at the same time, something may be learned or concealed by the different combinations which are exhibited in their results. These, which take place every morning, are denominated, pro forma, elections ; and the votes given in them are said to be in honorem. Braschi, as an insignificant and unlikely person, at first received many of these contemptuous compliments. At last, Rezzonico began to raise him to importance, by pretending to reveal to his own party the secret of his nocturnal visit and alarming engagements to the foreign ministers ; and hinted, at the same time, that the only safe way to counteract him would be, to raise him, Rezzonico himself, to the envied dignity. The foreign Cardinals, seeing this strong verification of Braschi’s private communication, and considering that he alone had pledged himself to keep down the Jesuits, immediately offered him all their support to avert the impending danger ; while Rezzonico was no sooner apprized of their accession, than he contrived, late at night, and after all danger of communication was over, to slip into the hands of his own partisans a circular, in which he informed
them, that the ingratitude and perfidy of Braschi had disgusted even his corruptors, who were aware that they could never carry through the election of a man so abandoned ; but that they had fixed upon another deserter from their party, whom he could not then venture to name, but on whom all their votes would be bestowed the morning following. To counteract this new plot, it was therefore necessary that they should act with caution ; and as Braschi would be abandoned by his new friends on the morrow, and would probably have no votes whatever, the safest course, in the mean time, would be for them all to give their suffrages to him.
The votes were accordingly given ; and both parties, acting under this double delusion, were equally astonished, when, upon opening the seals, it appeared that Braschi had obtained his election. It is a worthy sequel to this edifying story, that he proved false to his friend Rezzonico, as well as to all the rest—and never took a single step towards the restoration of the beloved Jesuits.

As soon as the prize was within his reach, and indeed almost before, the mask of the decent Cardinal was dropped, and the bold and ambitious character of the Pope was disclosed. The night before his election, he occupied himself in writing two long letters, of the most beautiful penmanship ;—one addressed to his sister, instructing her what presents the family should make to the new Pope ; the other to the Corporation of his native town of Cesena, giving the most minute directions for the fêtes they were to give on the elevation of their townsman—and even prescribing the colour and the pattern of the dresses in which certain poor children, who were to be endowed on the occasion, should appear in the procession. It may easily be imagined how a spirit like his would enjoy the rage and surprise of the competitors who came to kneel to the new dignity they had thus unwittingly created,—and whom he never condescended to raise from the painful prostration to which they had sunk themselves. From the first hour of his elevation, he assumed the tone of an absolute prince ; and ruled more independently of his Cardinals than any other Pope on record. At his coronation, they presented, according to custom, a heap of flax on a plate of silver, and, burning it before him, exclaimed, Sic transit gloria mundi ! A smile of contempt was all his comment on the lesson. When asked on what footing he wished his household to be established ; instead of replying with the affected humility of his predecessors, he answered at once,
On the footing of a Sovereign.
Since the disgraceful reign of Alexander VI. and the oppressive one of Adrian VI., no Pope had ventured to take a name to which the number six must attach. The well-known lines—
Sextus Tarquinius, Sextus Nero, Sextus et iste,
Semper sub Sextis, perdita Roma fuit—
deterred those who lived by superstition from so defying its terrors. But the new Pope despised all augury ; and boldly took the appellation of Pius the Sixth—a boldness, of which it is amusing to learn, that he bitterly repented in the days of his disasters and decline. In the mean time, however, he was so little under the influence of those fears, that he scandalized the whole Catholic world by ascending the papal chair bareheaded, and with his hair gloriously powdered. The Popes, our readers must know, never wear wigs ;—but then there was a certain sanctified cap or bonnet, called the Papalina, which formed an indispensable part of their costume. Braschi had worn a wig while Cardinal, under which he had cunningly nourished his hair for this grand exhibition ;—and now appeared, without Papalina or any thing else, in the full frizz of a beau of Louis XV.’s court. His Holiness indeed, then in his fifty-sixth year, was at all times a great admirer of his own beauty, and very fond of displaying it to advantage. His toilette, of course, was copied by all the gay Ecclesiastics ; and the antient canons, which regulated the priestly vestments, fell into alarming neglect.

Those were follies, no doubt—and not the follies of a lofty nature. But it is not true that they were united in this instance with the vices that often attend them. Pius VI. was a coxcomb in his dress, but he was not profligate or licentious in his habits—nor is there any justice in ascribing to his supposed lenity towards vice, that general relaxation of private morality, of which the age in which he lived may so justly be accused. The truth is, that luxury, and the corruptions to which it gives birth, had by this time attained such a head in all the civilized parts of Europe, that to have affected to treat every case with rigour, would only have increased the scandal, without diminishing the sin. The destruction of liberty, and the increase of commerce, had cooperated to produce this evil :—the former, by depriving the wealthy and noble of any other occupation or pursuit but that of pleasure ; and the latter, by supplying, in increased abundance, the means of these gratifications. The evil, however, will ultimately work its own cure ; and has already begun it—though in the roughest and most disastrous manner. The idleness and corruption of the great, thus deprived of all worthy political functions, make them at once despicable and odious in the eyes of the people ; and they seek to punish and degrade them by sanguinary insurrections and insane projects of reform. The profligacy of the Regency, and the reign of Louis XV., was the true efficient cause of the French Revolution ;—and Pius VI., by preventing the disclosure of similar iniquities among the Roman dignitaries, must be considered as having retarded, rather than accelerated, a similar catastrophe in Italy. It may be right, however, to explain upon what these imputations were founded.

There have long been at Rome two magistrates called the Vicario and the Viceregente, who exercise the office of censors, and have power to call before them all individuals of either sex whose conduct gives occasion to scandal. In a country governed by men who are not allowed to marry, it is easy to conceive that such officers must have something to do—and Pius judged rightly that the public discussion of such matters must do more harm than good to society. He knew also, that the powers of these censors were often shamefully abused. He felt, in short, that the institution was no longer suitable to the age—and certainly did what he could to abate the activity both of this tribunal and of the Inquisition. The zealots and the purists abused him for this laxity :—But he might have answered with Solon, that he gave his people such laws as they could bear,—and that Utopian principles would be worse than inoperative in fæce Romuli. It cannot, however, be denied that he had rather more taste for luxury and secular elegance than suited with the character of a churchman—and that he amused himself rather too much with these scandalous chronicles, of which he was never the hero. He pretended indeed to make this gossip, which was his great delight, an engine of policy. The ladies of Rome had not only all the secular nobility publicly at their feet, as was fitting, but ruled in secret not a few of the aged Cardinals and venerable Prelates—and Pius, by informing himself carefully of their intrigues, held them all more immediately under his dominion. To effect this, however, he was obliged to delegate no small share of his patronage to those fair courtiers ;—and benefices were accordingly bestowed, in his day, not on learning and talent, but on those who could best win or purchase the favour of the ladies in power.

In another matter, where he was infinitely less to blame, he gave still more offence to the bigots—and that was, in his endeavours to prevent the abuse of Sanctuary—under which the churches and the houses of ambassadors had become the common resort of assassins and all sorts of malefactors. The privilege itself he could not entirely abolish—but he instituted so vigilant a police, as very frequently to intercept it—and now and then struck at notorious offenders with
a vigour beyond the law.
—The impunity which hired murderers continued to experience during his reign, is to be ascribed much more to the abuse of the diplomatic privilege, than to any neglect of the Sovereign.

Pius was a patron of genius ; but preferred the fine arts to literature or science :—and he was neither a very learned nor a very impartial patron. His greatest weakness was in patronizing or tolerating the Arcadians.—The name is not very celebrated, we believe, in this country—yet all the curious are aware, that there has existed at Rome, for an hundred and fifty years, an academy or corporation of poets, under that fantastic appellation—and richly deserving all the ridicule with which it is pregnant. It was set on foot at a time when such affectations were more tolerated, and for a good enough purpose ;—but for many years it had become a reproach and a nuisance, and had filled Italy with its shepherds and affiliated societies—into which any blockhead who could produce a sonnet and a sequin found easy admittance—obtained a brevet of poet, a pastoral name, and a grant of lands in some romantic district of the antient Arcadia. Even now, a stranger no sooner arrives in Rome, than he receives a visit from the Secretaries of this Academy, who offer him the Laurel and a copy of verses already prepared, which is to be recited in the name of the generous visiter. Now and then too, at their public meetings, they place the crown on the head of some traveller, who is vain and silly enough to play the hero in these farces : But those who submit to this coronation, are generally improvisatori by profession, who, to increase their consequence with their hearers, go to Rome to purchase this honour, as quacks in medicine purchase their degrees from some venal university. Hardly any author now condescends to make use of the titles which this Society bestows upon them : though some monks, who dabble a little in profanity, publish their verses under their pastoral names—which in fact were first invented for the protection of certain ecclesiastical dignitaries, who suffered under the epidemic fever of versifying. When every one imagines himself a poet, there is an end of true poetry. But the first half of the eighteenth century was an epoch devoid of political interest in Italy ; the generation of philosophers formed by Galileo was nearly extinct : The learned generally devoted themselves to the study of classical antiquities, literary criticism, and the history of the Middle Age,—while the Jesuits encouraged this mania of rhiming, which, without exalting the imagination, or exciting the passions of their pupils, flattered their vanity, and kept them from more dangerous studies.—As the Arcadians formed an army almost innumerable, writers of genius rarely ventured openly to attack them.—Pius VI. had no dislike to flattery ; and he had a great admiration for the style of Metestasio, and the poets who had been celebrated in his youth :—Every one, of course, was eager to make his debut in the Arcadia ; and, by making themselves known there, many obtained the situation of Secretaries to the Ministers and Cardinals.—The Revolution threw this famous Academy, with many better institutions, into the shade, from which it is now vainly endeavouring to emerge.—It is but just, however, to add, that the taste which results from the study of the antient languages, has always been preserved in Rome in all its vigour and purity ; and the criticism of the antient poets has reached the highest perfection, from the constant recourse which must be had to the classical authors for illustrating the antiquities which are still daily discovered.

Rezzonico did much for the arts, by founding the Museum which was called Clementino ;—and Pius added so much to its treasures that it has since gone by the name of Pio Clementino.—He encouraged all sorts of artists indeed, with the exception perhaps of architects,—looking upon himself as the only person of eminence in that department. Accordingly, with the assistance of an ordinary builder, he erected the palace which he bestowed on his nephews. The site is ill chosen ; but Pius, who in every action of his life united an unbounded love of fame with an invincible repugnance to sacrifice immediate gratification, placed it in the Strada Papale, solely because it lay in his way to the Vatican, and he could have frequent opportunities of seeing it.—He also ventured on another work, which no artist since Bramanti and Michael Angiolo had had the courage to contemplate. A Sacristy was wanting to St Peter’s ;—but on the only spot on which it could be erected, stood an antient temple of Venus, which Michael Angiolo had not dared to touch, and directed to be left entire, Pius threw it down, and raised the Sacristy in its place. It has altogether a bad effect, and harmonizes ill with the vast edifice to which it is attached. But it enabled his Holiness to spend a vast sum of money, and to place within its walls a colossal statue of himself, with this inscription—Quod ad Templi Vaticani ornamenta Publica Vota flagitabant, Pius VI. Pont. Max. fecit perfecitque.

The enormous sums he expended in these undertakings, showed but little regard to the comfort of his successor : and though elective sovereigns can hardly be expected to attend much to economy, there are very few even among the Popes who have carried this abuse so far as Pius VI. His predecessors had left the Church and State in extreme poverty. Clement VII., and his successor Paul III., (Medici & Farnesi, an. 1530-1540), were the last who enslaved provinces and free cities to place them under the sway of their bastards, from whom have sprung those princes who are now supported on the principle of legitimacy. After the establishment of the Reformation, Urban VIII. (Barberini, 1630) added to the patrimony of St Peter’s, by despoiling the House of Este of the dutchy of Ferrari. He was the last Pope whom the powers of Europe permitted to be a conqueror. But their consciences, and those of their subjects, continued to be tributary to the Church ; and Alexander VII. (Ghigi, 1660) was enabled to raise his family to the highest splendour, and to fill Rome with the most magnificent monuments. The two fiefs of Maglian Pecovareccio and Scrofano, belonging to the present Prince Ghigi, were purchased with the produce of some utensils of massy gold which the King of Portugal had presented to a nephew of Alexander VII. At last, however, the signal humiliations which the Court of Rome sustained from the ministers of Louis XIV. encouraged the other princes to attempt to relieve themselves from impositions which had long ceased to be voluntary. Spain purchased, for two millions of dollars, from Benedict XIV. (Lambertini, 1740) the freedom from all future taxation. This revenue belonged exclusively to the civil list of the Popes ; and Benedict agreed to the transaction, to enable him to meet the wants of the State without oppressing his subjects with new taxes. But it showed all other nations, that their contributions could be dispensed with ; and his successors, less disinterested than himself, were under the necessity replacing this revenue, by impoverishing their own subjects. Afterwards, with the same virtuous intentions, and the same improvidence as Lambertini, Ganganelli, by destroying the Jesuits, deprived Rome of all the riches which they had brought thither ; and Pius VI., on succeeding to him, found a public debt and paper money.

The creditors of the Apostolick Chamber were partly the subjects of the Pope, and partly other Italians, chiefly the Genoese ;—they received three per cent. interest. There was at that time the most unlimited confidence in the Italian governments ; which they owed to their antiquity—to the peace which all Italy had enjoyed for half a century—and, above all, to the punctuality with which they fulfilled their engagements in matters of finance. Even after the French had passed the Alps, money continued to be poured into the public funds ; and Rome being at a distance from the seat of war, and considered as a sacred city, appeared the most secure place of deposite for the capitals of individuals ; which Pius felt no scruple in employing for his own purposes. Notes of the value from 2l. to 3l. had long been in circulation ; but Pius greatly increased the number, and issued at the same time notes for very small sums. The effect was immediate : A depreciation instantly took place, which was met and increased by new issues of still falling paper. The people, in whose hands it was hourly losing value, found themselves beggared in the midst of plenty ; and, while the annuitants and stockholders were ruined, the bankers amassed such riches as enabled them to purchase estates and titles of nobility. Pius, however, went on with his buildings ; and, to defray the expenses, bethought him of establishing Manufactories to be supported by Government ; but as there was unfortunately no capital or habits of industry, and as all who had any money were eager to secure it on land, the experiment ended in increasing the disorder of the finances.

The next project was the extension of Agriculture—which certainly appeared in some respects more inviting. Of that vast tract of country which is called the Agro Romano, the whole of which is capable of culture, hardly a fourth part is cultivated : the rest is abandoned, from the want of capital and population. Its low situation, and the stagnant moisture extending over so great a surface, frequently infects the air, and thins the population of the adjoining districts. Pius VI. was advised to advance money to the proprietors, to enable them to build houses, and procure implements to be given to such inhabitants of the bordering mountains as would agree to quit their steril lands and descend into the plain. Instead of adopting this easy and practicable plan of improving the Agro Romano, Pius undertook a project which might have suited the Roman Emperors in the period of their prosperity. He exhausted all his efforts, and all the resources of his paper money, in attempting to drain the Pontine Marshes. He did succeed in part ; and more perhaps might have been done, had he entrusted the management to better hands. But the project in itself appears hopeless ;—the sources of much of the water being below the level of the sea.—Napoleon, whose ambition aimed at changing not only the political, but if possible the physical face of Europe, sent, some years after, with the same view, the senators Fossombroni and Monge, both celebrated mathematicians : Bat their report was, that it appeared to them almost impossible. By means of canals, however, and a great number of drains, the water has been drawn off from the higher parts of the surface into the lower marshes : But the stirring of the soil, chiefly composed of putrid vegetable substances, corrupted the atmosphere ; and the infection of the Mal-aria, which formerly had but slowly insinuated itself among the neighbouring inhabitants, now rapidly extended its ravages ; and the population of Piperno, Sezza, and Sermonetta, who had formerly enjoyed at least intervals of health, were now constantly exposed to its deadly influence. Pius slackened his exertions ; but his vanity would not permit him entirely to abandon the enterprise. He laid open the Via Appia, one of the most striking monuments of ancient Roman greatness, and still extremely beneficial to commerce. The small portion of the Marsh that had been made capable of cultivation, was however thought of sufficient importance to be reduced to an Ecclesiastical fief, with which he invested his nephews, the two sons of his sister, whom he obliged to take the name of Braschi.

On his accession to the Pontificate, perhaps ambitious of imitating the recent examples of Lambertini and Ganganelli, who had more at heart the prosperity of their subjects and of the Church than the advancement of their relations, he had sent Giraud to Cesena to tell them, that they had nothing to expect from him, and that they must never approach Rome. However, he yielded at length to the temptation of leaving behind him an illustrious posterity who might bear his name. The younger nephew he created a Cardinal, and married the elder to the daughter of an ancient patrician ; and, to procure him a fortune suitable to the rank of Duke, to which he had raised him, he not only misapplied the public money, but basely submitted to the most humiliating expedients. An unlucky discovery satisfied the world, that the Pope himself managed many of these intrigues, the scandal of which had formerly been confined to his relations and favourites.

Don Amanzio, the sole heir of the rich family of Lepri, being a priest, was of course condemned to celibacy. The Pope employed his secretary, Nardini, and other inferior agents, to persuade him to make a donation, inter vivos, of all the possessions of his family to the Duke Braschi, on condition of his receiving a Cardinal’s hat. He resisted the temptation a long time ; but the Pope still persevering in his holy endeavours, nominated him a prelate, with a seat on the Bench ; and, the more to dazzle his imagination, he deigned to officiate in his pontifical robes at the installation of Don Amanzio. This farce, however, raised such a clamour in the city, that the Pope was obliged to retire for a while into the country ; but he still clung to his object, and raised Don Amanzio to the rank of his Chamberlain, who at last yielded to make the donation ; but, on his insisting on the Cardinalship, he was banished the Court, and the house of the Duke. His death, which happened soon after, was, as usual in such cases, ascribed to his disappointment, or to poison. However, on his deathbed he revealed the whole transaction to his confessor, and bound him by an oath to make it public. Witnesses were then brought, before whom he solemnly retracted the donation. His relations, who were poor and numerous, supplicated the Pope in charity to obtain from his nephew some part of the succession :—but in vain.—They found, however, among his enemies, some persons who had the courage to assist them in bringing the case into a court of law. In this emergency, Pius spared no art of intimidation or corruption, and the Judges at first decided in his favour. But justice triumphed at last ; and after many vicissitudes, the Duke was ordained to restore the property ;—when the Pope, actuated by the same dignified feelings that had guided him through the whole transaction, to preserve at least a portion of the property, consented magnanimously to a composition with the heirs. These little adventures seem hardly worth notice, when compared with the stormy scenes which so soon followed ; —yet, trifling as they may now appear, they were not without their effect in bringing on that great Revolution which was now slowly approaching.

We must now proceed, however, to the active, or suffering part of this Pope’s life.—He went twice out of his territory—once voluntarily—and once by compulsion—though the first, perhaps, led to the other. The occasion we must now detail.

The discussions and recriminations attending the suppression of the Jesuits, had unveiled the secrets of the corruptions of the Catholic Church, and the fatal effects of the supremacy of the Popes over the powers of Europe. The Jansenists maintained, that the successors of St Peter had no right to temporal power ; and Joseph II. placed Jansenists in all the churches and universities of Italy, that they might there propagate that doctrine. The Grand Duke Leopold adopted the same policy. The Court of Naples refused the antient right of vassalage to the Pontiff, who had the folly to think of opposing open force by impotent menaces. Pius attributed the conduct of the Catholic Courts more to the Ministers than the Sovereigns,—and more to the sophism of a few philosophers, than to the real cause, the progress of the principles of liberty : and, vainly imagining that his presence would excite such veneration among the people, that the rebellion of the Princes against his authority would be immediately checked by his appearance, he determined to go to Vienna, in the hope that, if he could bring over the Emperor to his views, he would have nothing to fear from the spirit of reform elsewhere. When he communicated this resolution to the Consistory, he found the majority inclined to oppose it : But he instantly declared, that he had called them together merely to appoint a Regency during his absence ; and he nominated those Cardinals who had had the address to accede to his proposal. His departure was only announced at Rome, when he was some miles on his way, by the ringing of bells. He travelled in the humblest style, with no other suite than three Bishops, one Secretary, four servants, and not a single Cardinal. It is supposed by some, that he affected this simplicity on account of an antient prophecy of the twelfth century, in which Pius the VI. is described as a pilgrim, with the title of Pellegrinus Apostolicus.—It is possible this might have some influence ; but it is more probable, this apparent humility was intended to inspire greater veneration and pity among the Catholicks in those countries he was about to traverse.

In all this, however, he was miserably disappointed : as his journey created no sensation anywhere. He was met some miles from Vienna by the Emperor, who begged him carelessly to quit his coach, and placed him at his right hand in his own post chaise. Instead of conducting him to the Archiepiscopal palace, where the Pope had ordered apartments, and a sort of ecclesiastical court to be prepared for him, Joseph lodged him in an Imperial palace, and appointed him a guard of honour and chamberlains who watched all his motions. In short, notwithstanding all that has been said of the filial devotion with which the Emperor received the Father of Christians, he was treated like a prisoner, to whom no one deigned to listen. After having exhausted his patience in vain expedients, Pius VI., in a very short letter, written with his own hand, peremptorily demanded a private conference with the Emperor at a certain day and hour.—He might have refused this ; for, in a letter, the tone of which does more honour to his frankness than his politeness, (and of which we give a literal translation below,
* “ Since your Holiness is determined to come to Vienna, I can only assure you of the reception and veneration suitable to your dignity, for if your Holiness expects to settle affairs with me, they may appear questionable at Rome, but are already decided at Vienna ; and in that case the journey would be useless. My decisions are always guided by reason, equity, humanity, and religion ; and, above all, by the counsels of wise, honest, and enlightened persons :—And for the Holy Chair and your Holiness, I have the devotion of a true Apostolick Catholick ; and I implore your paternal benediction.
Joseph. ”
) he had already told the Pontiff, that he could only promise him at Vienna the honours of hospitality. Dreading, however, the eclat of an open rupture, Joseph agreed to the interview.—Pius conducted himself with much dignity ; and, foreseeing the inutility of entreaties, he confined himself to reasonings and exhortation. He urged the former concessions of the Monarchs —their obedience to the Pontiffs—the Divine right, and the Bulls of his predecessors—the imminent dangers of religion from a general rebellion, of which the Monarchs themselves set the example to their people. Joseph was fully prepared with the arguments of the Jansenists against all the antient maxims of divine right—and displayed far more erudition than the Pope, who had never deeply studied those matters. The Emperor treated as forgeries those charters which in the Middle Age had enriched the priests and monks with the spoils of nations and of Kings ;—and as to the Royal concessions, he alleged that having been extorted by force and cunning, in periods of gross ignorance, there was no injustice in retracting them in better times—that the corruption of religion had its source in the Church itself, and that the only way to purify it, was for the priests to recur to the practice of the Apostles, which they had quitted for the purpose of ambition,—and that it was in fact the priests who had at all times fomented the revolt of subjects against their legitimate sovereigns.

Joseph II. fatally experienced the truth of this last observation a few years after. We are little inclined to believe that he died by poison, and still less that Pius VI. had any share in his death. But the Prince de Ligne, who witnessed his last moments, asserts that he died broken-hearted, on account of the revolt of the Nobles and Bishops of Brabant ; and, from the conduct of the higher clergy at the commencement of the French Revolution, it can hardly be doubted that if they had agreed to bear their share of the necessary taxes, the Noblesse would have followed the example, and the Revolution would have been either prevented or rendered far less terrible.

The effects of this journey were more disastrous than can be well explained by any thing that occurred in it ; or rather it coincided with other causes of discontent which had been for some time increasing. In certain states of the public mind, the absence of the sovereign, or the slightest miscarriage in his designs, may be fatal to his popularity. Pius travelled in the same modest style on his return into Italy—except at Cesena, where he could not resist the temptation of dazzling his fellow-citizens with his sovereign magnificence, and drained their little treasury for the expense of his fêtes ; in return for which he promised them several public institutions, which he never had the means of establishing. All this added nothing to his popularity. He had left Rome, dreaded by all his subjects, and he returned despised. Even the populace mocked at his benedictions, and cried out for bread : He endeavoured to appease them by arbitrarily reducing the price of grain, which ruined the proprietors ;—and at last, by making the weight of his arbitrary power fall on the great, he succeeded in changing their contempt into hatred. But he soon tasted its bitter fruits, and suffered in secret all those pangs, and that distress, which every one must feel whose interests are in opposition to his duties, and whose wants are above his means. He constantly changed his ministers, and sought by new acts of severity to stifle the clamours produced by acts of tyranny, which now daily multiplied. The unhappy state of his mind is disclosed in two long letters which he wrote on the scandalous story of the Queen of France’s necklace. The disgrace of the Cardinal Rohan, and of the Church in general, had filled his heart with bitterness and melancholy presentiments. In signing his name, he frequently stopped to meditate on the fatal number VI.,—and said to his favourite secretary Nardini,
I fear the Church will have no Pope after I am gone.
In the vast church of St Paul, extra muros, there is a long series of medallions, with the portraits of all the Popes,—and there only remained one vacant space for that of Pius VI. !—The places destined for their tombs, were also all occupied, with the exception of one !—These omens had not escaped the populace ; and though Pius affected to laugh at them, he was not the less alarmed in his heart. At last the Revolution, and the advance of the French in Italy, forced him to assemble the Cardinals—that the ruin of the Church might not be imputed to him alone. Some members of this Consistory proposed conciliatory measures—others were eager for a Crusade against France ;—a third party maintained, that it would be sufficient to place the fortresses and frontiers of the Ecclesiastical territory in a state of defence, and obtain the assistance of the English fleets in the Mediterranean, without troubling themselves about their neighbours. Cardinal Albani (uncle of the present Cardinal of that name) was of opinion, that they ought to avoid as much as possible mingling the affairs of the Church with their political arrangements ; and that, by sacrificing their Ecclesiastical quarrels and pretensions, all the Princes of Italy might be united in an armed confederation, offensive and defensive ; and that the Pope, for the future,- should rather consider the common safety, than his individual preeminence.

If Pius had pursued the policy of Gregory VII., who united all the States of Italy in their resistance to foreign powers, it is probable that their subjection might have been at least retarded, and their humiliation less infamous. The Italians were the only natural defenders of the Church, and of Rome : while the Pope alone, by means of his religious influence, had the power to found and consolidate a durable confederation. But instead of this, the policy of Pius seems to have been to foment dissensions among the other States, that he might share the spoils of Italy with foreign enemies ; and this system was persevered in, even on the approach of Bonaparte, when there was no longer any chance of safety but in a vigorous union.—Each little State, dreading the French, and distrusting its neighbour, prepared to purchase for itself a partial peace. Piedmont alone made a long and honourable resistance. Yet the people, in general, were far from approving of the French Revolution : they had been for centuries accustomed to their governments, such as they were ; and had little desire, and little notion indeed, of any better. The love of liberty prevailed only among a part of the tiers etat, which in Italy, as everywhere else, forms the most enlightened part of the nation ; but which, though apt enough to be most inflamed by political theories, is incapable of acting with effect, unless supported by the strength of the populace, or the influence of the nobility. Besides, in Italy they had been long condemned to silence, and did not abound in wealth. Such of the nobles as could do it with impunity, or thought themselves, able to govern their fellow-citizens, declaimed loudly, at first, hi favour of the new political philosophy ; but no sooner had the Revolution actually begun, than, alarmed by the sacrifices demanded of them, they basely deserted the cause they had so warmly adopted. This, indeed, is always the case, when the nobility are neither military, nor have any share in the government : they can never command, and they are unwilling to obey. They think more of their ancestors than their posterity, and talk more than they act. If advantage had been taken of the national hatred to the French, by forming an armed confederacy, defence was at least possible,—or, at all events, Italy would have fallen with honour. But the partial revolts of Pavia, and some other cities, only ensured their pillage by the army of Bonaparte ; and the wanton and cruel massacre of the sick and wounded French in the hospitals of Verona, together with the women and children who followed their army, justly exasperated the enemy. In the States of the Pope, these useless crimes were more frequent ; and the Government had already been guilty of the assassination of Hugh Bassville, who, either by order of the National Convention, or his own imprudence, was propagating at Rome revolutionary principles. Pius did not dare to send him away, and some of his zealous ministers directed him to be murdered by a soldier of the Papal guard ; and, under pretence of encouraging the Roman people, the houses of several foreigners were burnt, and the Academy of France pillaged, and the students driven away. The advice of Cardinal Albani being rejected, a few soldiers were collected to drive the French from the territories of the Church ; and much was expected from the influence of religion, in rousing the people to insurrection. The authority of the Pope was expiring ; and he in vain endeavoured to check the progress of superstition, and forbid the secret conspiracies against the French. His ministers, the priests and the population, prevailed ; and he was forced, in a moment of imminent peril, to beatify a lay Capucin who had lately died, and to order him to be adored before the altars. It was confidently expected that the Holy City would be saved through the intercession of this new saint ; and in most of the churches in the Ecclesiastical States, the images of the Virgin were seen to move their eyes, and promise the destruction of the French ; while the Pope was forced to approve of a new service which was chanted at all the altars, for the miraculous eyes of the Virgin. We do not know if it be yet abolished ; and we have seen it printed under this title—De apertione oris et oculorum B. M. Virginis : Auctoritate Pii VI. Pont. Max.

Aided, rather than checked, by this absurd fanaticism, and the secret conspiracies instigated by the famous Cardinal Ruffo and Cardinal Zelada, Bonaparte advanced. The army of the Pontiff fled ; and Berthier, encamping on the heights of Mount Mario, summoned Pius to surrender Rome, or see it bombarded. He solicited an armistice, and made a present to Berthier of the greater part of the jewels of which, in the days of his prosperity, he had despoiled the Church of Loretto to adorn his own person ; and the curious have lately noticed, among the ornaments of an Italian lady celebrated for her birth, her beauty, her adventures, and, above all, for the passions she inspired even in her old age, the very diamond which for many years had sparkled on the hand of the Pontiff, and shared the adoration of the prostrate multitude, on whom he bestowed his benedictions. Berthier gave him time to send ambassadors ; who went with Azara, the Spanish minister, as mediator to Bonaparte, who granted them peace ; and the Pope ceded the three legations of Bologna, Ferrara and Ravenna, with all their territories, together with a part of the Romagna, antiently called Emilia. Bonaparte signed this treaty at Tolentino, from whence he did not advance to triumph at the Capitol ; and he who aspired to universal dominion, never beheld the metropolis of the world, though he bestowed its crown on his son while in his cradle. Before the frosts of the North had shown that the genius and power of Napoleon were among the precarious gifts of Fortune, the Italians had flattered themselves that he would one day transfer the seat of empire to Rome, as the only city from whence he could dictate to Europe. Such, however, was not his destiny—and the Capitol is again repeopled with Monks.

The plains of Italy were not only the noblest theatre of Napoleon’s military glory, but it was there also that he acquired the reputation of a genius born, not merely to conquer, but to reform and govern nations—a reputation which he began to lose the moment he gave up his right to the awful title of Jacobin Emperor, and allied himself as a champion of Legitimacy, with those very Princes whom he had so often humiliated, despised, and deceived. When he conquered Italy, he kindled the flame of liberty in the place of religious fanaticism. He maintained the right of insurrection tor the people, that he might be invited to assist in driving from their thrones those Princes who, incapable of defending their subjects, in fact merited their fate. He showed clemency to those who had been induced to revolt against him through the intrigues of the priests and nobles, while he profited by their tumults, by laying impositions on the cities and churches. While the forms of all the new governments which he established were democratical and constitutional, all his acts were arbitrary, and emanated from himself alone.

The Directory, alarmed at the dictatorial conduct of this General, who made conquests, signed treaties, and regulated governments at his pleasure, sent General Clarke (the Minister of War under Louis XVIII.) as their representative to the army. Bonaparte received him at Montebello, surrounded by his Staff ; and, without opening the credentials which Clarke presented to him, he said,
General Clarke ! if you come here resolved to act, write, and think as I shall order, you are welcome. But if you come to play the spy on me, return instantly from whence you came.

While he deceived the multitude by those democratic theories, which excited their hopes, but which his actions constantly belied, he showed that he secretly leaned towards the side of the rich and the noblesse, by the monarchial pomp which he maintained. The patricians, however, and particularly those of Milan, were never imposed on by his arts ; and though they accepted, and sometimes solicited, his favours, they never rendered him any essential service, nor ever testified the slightest gratitude. He ceased to foment discord among the Italian States, as soon as he found those divisions no longer necessary to his views ; and he succeeded at last in uniting the interests of six millions of Italians under the same laws ;—an enterprise which, till then, had appeared almost impracticable.

While he was still but a General, and engaged in organizing the Cisalpine Republick, many of the most clear-sighted Italians believed that Bonaparte’s project then was, to make himself master of a great part of Italy, and govern it as an independent prince, without risking his fortune and fame, by again venturing among the storms of the French Revolution ; and the pains which he took to awaken the spirit and military valour of the Italians, certainly gave some colour to that conjecture. However, from the moment of his first victory in Italy to the hour when he signed his abdication at Fontainebleau, he never ceased to keep the new governments of Italy, their laws, and even their opinions, under the direct influence of France. And it is now certain, that if he had not been prevented by his reverses in Russia, he would have incorporated the kingdom of Italy, as he had already done the Roman territory, among the departments of the empire.

The changes which now took place in Italy, were such as no imagination could conceive. Venice, which had obtained peace as a sovereign power, by a publick treaty signed by Bonaparte, was, after fourteen centuries of independence, made over to Austria by a secret treaty, signed at the same time by the same individual. The revolts set on foot by the Jesuits, ceased in Lombardy the moment it was formed into a Republic. But the Pope was unable to restrain them in Rome ; and some Cardinals, by opposing treason to treason, only provoked and hurried on that revolution they wished to avoid. La Reveilliere Lepaux, one of the members of the French Directory, seriously believed, that, if the Popedom were once destroyed, he would easily establish his favourite Deism throughout Europe ! And his colleagues, desirous of keeping their armies at a distance from France, appeared to favour his religious views. The Directory sent emissaries to Rome, to tamper with some patricians who were known to be irritated against the priests ; and money and arms were distributed among the malcontents. In the mean time, the police, without the knowledge of the Pope, raised a tumult, for the purpose of massacring the French and the conspirators. The French general Duphot, who was believed to be the chief of the Revolutionists, was killed by some of the Pope’s soldiers. This was the signal for the populace to fall on the French and the Revolutionists. Joseph Bonaparte, at that time ambassador, escaped with difficulty. But the result is easily foreseen.—Military possession was taken of Rome—all negociation was in vain—and Pius was one night seized in his bed, forced into a carriage along with a prelate, a senator, and a servant, and was thus, at the age of 80, and in the 23d year of his pontificate, conducted out of his territories to die in the midst of a ferocious soldiery. On beholding the tricolor flag waving over the Capitol, he said with a sigh,
This is the anniversary of the day on which I was raised to the Chair of St Peter. I have before had similar warnings from Heaven, to think seriously and weep bitterly over my errors, which have hastened the ruin of my people.

It is not our intention to trace the changes that took place in Rome, and in the Church, after the exile of Pius VI. We shall only remark, that the Ecclesiastical government, which, if it had not been for the Revolution, would have been obliged to declare itself bankrupt, finds itself at present almost free from debt, and in possession of a great revenue. The ingenious contrivances by which this has been effected, deserve notice. The French, whose main object was to collect money sufficient to pay their great armies, increased the issues of paper to the amount of thirty-six millions of piasters, (8 millions Sterling), which they received in payment of their contributions, and immediately exchanged for specie, at a loss. In a few months this paper money fell into total discredit ; the French withdrew it from circulation ; declared a bankruptcy ; and imputed the whole to the preceding administration of Pius VI. They then issued a new paper in assignats, down to the value of five sous ; but the successes of the Allies obliging them to quit Italy for a whole year, this new paper fell of itself.

As to the public debt, the successor of Pius only paid to the holders two-fifths of the interest at 3 per cent. ; and Napoleon, on uniting Rome to the French empire, would only recognise as capital that part on which interest had been paid—thus cunningly getting rid of three-fifths of the debt. But the matter did not end here ; for, soon after, a decree was issued, that those stockholders, like the other creditors of the empire, should receive 6 per cent. ; and all that was exacted in return for this munificence, was the reduction.of one half of their capital ;—of course only one-fifth remained due of the sums actually deposited.in the bank of the Pontiff. And Pius VII., on returning to Home in 1814, not only found the public debt nearly extinguished, and the paper replaced by gold and silver, hut the taxes augmented tenfold ; and, in place of diminishing them, his ministers have since employed every expedient for their increase. The family of the reigning Pope, however, has not participated in this prosperity, for he has had the virtue to leave them in their original poverty : while individuals, who had been mere money dealers, have risen to the rank of Dukes. The ambition of aggrandizing one’s relations, seems, after all, more pardonable than that carelessness which leaves the revenues of the State at the mercy of upstarts : and in spite of all that has been said against nepotism, what would Rome be at this day without the great families established by the former Pontiffs? It is believed that a portion of the revenue raised by the Government is annually sent to Vienna, in fulfilment of a secret article in the treaty which restored to the .Church the three legations of Bologna, Ferrara, and Ravenna. But no prince who purchases his territories can ever possess them in safety.—The garrison of Ferrara is Austrian.

The Romans now regret Pius VI., not merely because they are discontented with their present condition, but also because, with all his faults, Pius VI. really had virtues. ; and because the people always love those princes who are prodigal of the public money, and who exercise their despotism for the humiliation of the great. He displayed great magnanimity when he was dragged from his dominions. On his arrival at Sienna, an earthquake threatened the ruin of the city ; and, instead of taking advantage of this event as directed against his impious oppressors, he attributed it to his own wrongs towards God ; and issued a bull, in which, after releasing his subjects from their oath of allegiance, he recommended docility and submission to the laws of Providence, and to the new Government. He was conducted to the Convent of the Chartreuse, near Florence, where, through the mediation of the Grand Duke of Tuscany, he was for some time permitted to remain :—But he was not destined long to enjoy this repose. The French Directory, pursuing its career of injustice and invasion, in a few months wrested his dominions from the Grand Duke, and conducted Pius, like a criminal, into France. He was carried through the most populous cities of Italy in open day ; but his presence excited neither alarm, nor anger, nor even curiosity ;—and the inhabitants of Bologna, where the enthusiasm of liberty pervaded all classes, and who had long been oppressed by his ministers, looked quietly on ; and when the Pontiff bestowed his benediction through the glasses of his carriage, prostrated themselves with devotion before the Chief of their religion. They seemed to have forgotten, that he whom they now saw before them, was the very Sovereign whom they had so much detested, and against whom they had so lately risen in arms. No one made a movement to insult him ; and no one breathed a sigh for his fate. The Directory, however, fearing the effect of his presence among the French, did not permit him to proceed beyond Mont Cenis, and shut him up in the fortress of Briançon : But the advance of the Allies in Piedmont, soon forced him into a new prison ; and he was lodged in the citadel of Valance, where he endured many privations, which he bore without a murmur. A young man, the Count de Labrador, who accompanied him as Commissioner of the King of Spain, exerted himself for the relief of the dying Pontiff ; and a French lady had the courage to bestow on him the cares and consolations which were necessary in one so worn down by age, infirmity, and solitude. But the vicinity of Valance to Avignon, which before the Revolution had belonged to the Holy See, roused afresh the suspicions of the Directory ; and they ordered Pius to be transported to Dijon. This was a severe blow ; but on being ordered to quit his pontifical habit, he summoned all his courage. He had always worn it ; and requesting to be carried in his chair, in full canonicals, before the French Commissioners, he said—
I am ready to follow you : I have forgotten that I was one of the Monarchs of the earth ; but the ministry to which Providence has called me, ought not to finish but when I shall have rendered up my account to my Eternal Judge.
—His legs had been swelled for some weeks ; and the fear that he might die during the journey, induced them to yield to the remonstrances of De Labrador against his removal.

For some time past, remorse had given place in the breast of the Pope to the consciousness of having expiated his errors. His prayers, which had long been accompanied with tears, were now uttered with confidence and serenity ; and he was filled with a calm resignation. His last days were probably the happiest of his life ; and he sunk at last under the weight of age, rather than misfortune. A palsy slowly consumed him ; and he yielded up his life with the same courage with which he had renounced his greatness. Having, during the eighteen months of his exile and imprisonment, been supported by charities which he never solicited, and always declined but when absolutely necessary, he could bequeath nothing to his companions in misery, except a little linen, a few pious books, and the plate he had been allowed to retain for the performance of the ceremonies of religion. Yet, when he was breathing his last, he was told he had no right to make a will, and that all he had belonged to the nation whose prisoner he was !—He died about the end of August 1799, after a longer reign than had fallen to the lot of any Pope since the time of St Peter.