We have not yet arrived at that point.

You have just heard the language, if not of the whole 3,124,668
people, at least of the most intelligent, the most energetic, and the
most interesting part of the nation. Take away the conservative
party,--that is to say, those who have an interest in the
government,--and the unfortunate creatures whom it has utterly
brutalized,--and there will remain none but malcontents.

The malcontents are not all of the same complexion. Some politely and
vainly ask the Holy Father to reform abuses: this is the moderate
party. Others propose to themselves a thorough reform of the
government: they are called radicals, revolutionists, or
Mazzinists--rather an injurious term. This latter category is not
precisely nice as to the measures to be resorted to. It holds, with
the Society of Jesus, that the end justifies the means. It says, if
Europe leaves it _tete-a-tete_ with the Pope, it will begin by cutting
his throat; and if foreign potentates oppose such criminal violence,
it will fling bombs under their carriages.

The moderate party expresses itself plainly, the Mazzinists noisily.
Europe must be very stupid, not to understand the one; very deaf, not
to hear the other.

What then happens?

All the States which desire peace, public order, and civilization,
entreat the Pope to correct some abuse or other. "Have pity," they
say, "if not upon your subjects, at least upon your neighbours, and
save _us_ from the conflagration!"

As often as this intervention is renewed, the Pope sends for his
Secretary of State. The said Secretary of State is a Cardinal who
reigns over the Holy Father in temporal matters, even as the Holy
Father reigns over a hundred and thirty nine millions of Catholics in
spiritual matters. The Pope confides to the Cardinal Minister the
source of his embarrassment, and asks him what is to be done.

The Cardinal, who is the minister of everything in the State, replies,
without a moment's hesitation, to the old sovereign:--

"In the first place, there are no abuses: in the next place,
if there were any, we must not touch them. To reform
anything is to make a concession to the malcontents. To give
way, is to prove that we are afraid. To admit fear, is to
double the strength of the enemy, to open the gates to
revolution, and to take the road to Gaeta, where the
accommodation is none of the best. Don't let us leave home.
I know the hou