rsonalities, in which "de Archangelis" includes his subordinate
"Spreti"--"advocate of the poor"--whose learned contribution to this
paper warfare has probably aroused his jealousy.

Mr. Browning has also displayed the hollowness of the proceedings by
making "de Archangelis" the very opposite of his saturnine and
blood-thirsty client: the last person we could think of as in sympathy
with him. He is a coarse good-natured paterfamilias, whose ambitions are
all centred on an eight-year-old son, whose birthday it is; and his
defence of the murder is concocted under frequent interruptions, from
the thought of Cinuncino (little Giacinto, or Hyacinth), and the fried
liver and herbs which are to form part of his birthday feast. Bottinius
is a vain man, occupied only with himself, and regretting nothing so
much as that he may not display his rhetorical powers, by delivering his
speech instead of writing it.

Count Guido, with his accomplices, has been condemned to death. His
friends have appealed from the verdict, on the ground of his being,
though in a minor degree, a priest. The answer to this appeal rests with
the head of the Church. The next monologue is therefore that of

THE POPE. The reflections here imagined grow out of a double fact.
Innocent the Twelfth refused to shelter Count Franceschini with his
accomplices from the judgment of the law, and thus assumed the
responsibility of his death. He had reached an age at which so heavy a
responsibility could not be otherwise than painful. As Mr. Browning
depicts him, his decision is made. From dawn to dark he has been
studying the case, piecing together its fragmentary truths, trying its
merits with "true sweat of soul." There is no doubt in his mind that
Guido deserves to die. But he has to nerve himself afresh before he
gives the one stroke of his pen, the one touch to his bell, which shall
send this soul into eternity; and that is what we see him doing.

As he says to himself, he is weighed down by years. He lifts the cares
of the whole world on a "loaded branch" for which a bird's nest were a
"superfluous burthen." Yet this strong man cries to him for life: and he
alone has the power to grant it. How easy to reprieve! How hard to deny
to this trembling sinner the moment's respite which may save his soul.
He wants precedent for such a deed; and he seeks it in the records of
the Papacy. It is from the Popes his predecessors that he must learn how
to dare, to suffer, and-