arise and sit upon the Episcopal throne of Rome, then he will, like the first of the name, renounce the worldly and false Popedom, reject the title of Papa Universalis; will not demand “faith in the Pope,” but will desire merely to be a servant of Christ, alike in dignity with every Episcopal pastor. And if he, like the first Gregory, avail himself of his elevation, merely to be a teacher and an unwearied laborer, an example to the community, then will the Christian people, and not alone the Roman Catholics, but all, reverence him, and voluntarily give him the surname of the Great, even if he should divest himself of the triple-crowned tiara, and perhaps even for that very cause. There is a grandeur, to which the whole Christian world more and more willingly pays homage, and that is of the spirit.
March the 18th.—The almond trees are in blossom, and the Campagna of Rome is becoming verdant; but the air is altogether cold, although its chilly, gray character has disappeared, and the sun now shines in full splendor. The tramontana blows violently, and the Sabine mountains are covered with snow.
“We have never had such a cold winter!” say the inhabitants of Rome; and I know that I myself have never had such a serious influenza. But this is now over; the sun shines, the spring advances, and I will give some little account of that which has occurred since I last wrote.
At that time, the influenza, like a wild beast, began to make serious ravages in Rome, and a number of deaths occurred in the higher circles. Amongst the deaths were those of four cardinals. These four an-
