ernment of the Papal States, both in its _law_ and in its
_administration_, being strictly sacerdotal, the great fairness of the
test we are now applying to the Papacy is undeniable. It would be very
unfair to try the religion of Britain by the government of Britain, or
to charge on Christianity the errors, the injustice, and the oppression
which our rulers may commit, because our religion is one thing, and our
Government is another. But it is not so in the Papal States. There the
Church is the Government. The papal Government is simply the embodiment
of the papal religion. And I cannot conceive a fairer, a more accurate,
or a more comprehensive test of the genius and tendency of a religion,
than simply the condition of that country where the making of the law,
the administration of the law, the control of all persons, the
regulation of all affairs, and the adjudication of all questions, are
done by that religion; and where, with no one impediment to obstruct it,
and with every conceivable advantage to aid it, it can exhibit all its
principles and accomplish all its objects. If that religion be true, the
condition of such country ought to be the most blessed on the face of
the earth.

One day I visited the courts of justice, which are on Mount Citorio. We
ascended a spacious staircase (I say we, for Mr Stewart, the intelligent
and obliging companion of my wanderings in Rome, was with me), and
entered a hall crowded with a number of shabby-looking people. We turned
off into a side-room, not larger than one's library, where the court was
sitting. Behind a table slightly raised, and covered with green cloth,
sat two priests as judges. A counsel sat with them, to assist
occasionally. On the wall at their back hung a painting of Pont. Max.
Pius IX.; and on the table stood a crucifix. The judges wore the round
cap of the Jesuits. I saw men in coarse bombazeen gowns, which I took
for macers: these, I soon discovered, were the advocates. They were
clownish-looking men, with great lumpish hands, and an unmistakeably
cowed look. They addressed the court in short occasional speeches in
Latin; for it is one of the privileges of the Roman people to have their
suits argued in a tongue they don't understand. There were some
half-dozen people lounging in the place. There was an air of unconcern
and meanness on the court, and all its practitioners and attendants;
but, being infallible, it can dispense with the appearance of dignity. I
a