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approval　of　the　Austrian　government。　To　this　was　added　a　pious



motto　from　St。　Augustine；　and　the　approval　of　Pius　VII　was



distinctly　implied；　since　the　work　was　never　placed　upon　the



Index；　and　could　not　have　been　published　at　Venice；　stamped　as　it



was　and　registered　with　the　privileges　of　the　University；　without



the　consent　of　the　Vatican。







The　memory　of　Father　Paul　seemed　likely　now　to　be　overwhelmed。



There　was　no　longer　a　Republic　of　Venice　to　guard　the　noble



traditions　of　his　life　and　service。　The　book　was　recommended　and



spread　far　and　wide　by　preachers　and　confessors。







But　at　last　came　a　day　of　judgment。　The　director　of　the　Venetian



archives　discovered　and　had　the　courage　to　announce　that　the　work



was　a　pious　fraud　of　the　vilest　type；　that　it　was　never　written



by　Fontanini；　but　that　it　was　simply　made　up　out　of　the　old



scurrilous　work　of　Vaerini；　suppressed　over　thirty　years　before。



As　to　the　correspondence　served　up　as　supplementary　to　the



biography；　it　was　concocted　from　letters　already　published；　with



the　addition　of　Jesuitical　interpolations　and　of　forgeries。＇1＇



Now　came　the　inevitable　reaction；　and　with　it　the　inevitable



increase　of　hatred　for　Austrian　rule　and　the　inevitable　question；



how；　if　the　Pope　is　the　infallible　teacher　of　the　world　in　all



matters　pertaining　to　faith　and　morals；　could　he　virtually



approve　this　book；　and　why　did　he　not；　by　virtue　of　his　divine



inerrancy；　detect　the　fraud　and　place　its　condemnation　upon　the



Index。　The　only　lasting　effect　of　the　book；　then；　was　to　revive



the　memory　of　Father　Paul's　great　deeds　and　to　arouse　Venetian



pride　in　them。　The　fearful　scar　on　his　face　in　the　portrait　spoke



more　eloquently　than　ever；　and　so　it　was　that；　early　in　the



nineteenth　century；　many　men　of　influence　joined　in　proposing　a



suitable　and　final　interment　for　the　poor　bones；　which　had　seven



times　been　buried　and　reburied；　and　which　had　so　long　been　kept



in　the　sordid　box　at　the　Ducal　Library。　The　one　fitting　place　of



burial　was　the　cemetery　of　San　Michele。　To　that　beautiful　island；



so　near　the　heart　of　Venice；　had；　for　many　years；　been　borne　the



remains　of　leading　Venetians。　There；　too；　in　more　recent　days；



have　been　laid　to　rest　many　of　other　lands　widely　respected　and



beloved。











＇1＇　For　a　full　and　fair　statement　of　the　researches　which　exposed



this　pious　fraud；　see　Castellani；　Prefect　of　the　Library　of　St。



Mark；　preface　to　his　Lettere　Inedite　di　F。　P。　S。；　p。　xvii。　For



methods　used　in　interpolating　or　modifying　passages　in　Sarpi's



writings；　see　Bianchi　Giovini；　Biografia　di　Sarpi；　Zurigo；　1847；



vol。　ii。　pp。　135；　et　seq。











But　the　same　persistent　hatred　which；　in　our　own　day；　grudged　and



delayed　due　honors　at　the　tombs　of　Copernicus　and　Galileo　among



Catholics；　and　of　Humboldt　among　Protestants；　was　still　bitter



against　the　great　Venetian　scholar　and　statesman。　It　could　not　be



forgotten　that　he　had　wrested　from　the　Vatican　the　most　terrible



of　its　weapons。　But　patriotic　pride　was　strong；　and　finally　a



compromise　was　made：　it　was　arranged　that　Sarpi　should　be　buried



and　honored　at　his　burial　as　an　eminent　man　of　science；　and　that



no　word　should　be　spoken　of　his　main　services　to　the　Republic　and



to　the　world。　On　this　condition　he　was　buried　with　simple　honors。







Soon；　however；　began　another　chapter　of　hatred。　There　came　a　pope



who　added　personal　to　official　hostility。　Gregory　XVI；　who　in　his



earlier　days　had　been　abbot　of　the　monastery　of　San　Michele；　was



indignant　that　the　friar　who　had　thwarted　the　papacy　should　lie



buried　in　the　convent　which　he　himself　had　formerly　ruled；　and



this　feeling　took　shape；　first；　in　violent　speeches　at　Rome；　and



next；　in　brutal　acts　at　Venice。　The　monks　broke　and　removed　the



simple　stone　placed　over　the　remains　of　Father　Paul；　and　when　it



was　replaced；　they　persisted　in　defacing　and　breaking　it；　and



were　only　prevented　from　dragging　out　his　bones；　dishonoring　them



and　casting　them　into　the　lagoon；　by　the　weight　of　the　massive；



strong；　well…anchored　sarcophagus；　which　the　wise　foresight　of



his　admirers　had　provided　for　them。　At　three　different　visits　to



Venice；　the　present　writer　sought　the　spot　where　they　were　laid；



and　in　vain。　At　the　second　of　these　visits；　he　found　the



Patriarch　of　Venice；　under　whose　rule　various　outrages　upon



Sarpi's　memory　had　been　perpetrated；　pontificating　gorgeously



about　the　Grand　Piazza；　but　at　his　next　visit　there　had　come　a



change。　The　monks　had　disappeared。　Their　insults　to　the



illustrious　dead　had　been　stopped　by　laws　which　expelled　them



from　their　convent；　and　there；　little　removed　from　each　other　in



the　vestibule　and　aisle　of　the　great　church；　were　the　tombs　of



Father　Paul　and　of　the　late　Patriarch　side　by　side；　the　great



patriot's　simple　gravestone　was　now　allowed　to　rest　unbroken。







Better　even　than　this　was　the　reaction　provoked　by　these



outbursts　of　ecclesiastical　hatred。　It　was　felt；　in　Venice；



throughout　Italy；　and　indeed　throughout　the　world；　that　the　old



decree　for　a　monument　should　now　be　made　good。　The　first　steps



were　hesitating。　First；　a　bust　of　Father　Paul　was　placed　among



those　of　great　Venetians　in　the　court　of　the　Ducal　Palace；　but



the　inscription　upon　it　was　timid　and　double…tongued。　Another



bust　was　placed　on　the　Pincian　Hill　at　Rome；　among　those　of　the



most　renowned　sons　of　Italy。　This　was　not　enough：　a　suitable



monument　must　be　erected。　Yet　it　was　delayed；　timid　men



deprecating　the　hostility　of　the　Roman　Court。　At　last；　under　the



new　Italian　monarchy；　the　patriotic　movement　became　irresistible；



and　the　same　impulse　which　erected　the　splendid　statue　to



Giordano　Bruno　on　the　Piazza　dei　Fiori　at　Rome；on　the　very　spot



where　he　was　burned；and　which　adorned　it　with　the　medallions　of



eight　other　martyrs　to　ecclesiastical　hatred；　erected　in　1892；



two　hundred　and　seventy　years　after　it　had　been　decreed；　a



statue；　hardly　less　imposing；　to　Paolo　Sarpi；　on　the　Piazza　Santa



Fosca　at　Venice；　where　he　had　been　left　for　dead　by　the　Vatican



assassins。　There　it　stands；　noble　and　serene；a　monument　of



patriotism　and　right　reason；　a　worthy　tribute　to　one　who；　among



intellectual　prostitutes　and　solemnly　constituted　impostors；



stood　forth　as　a　true　man；　the　greatest　of　his　time；one　of　the



greatest　of　all　times；an　honor　to　Venice；　to　Italy；　and　to



humanity。　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　Andrew　D。　White。







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Then　came　the　death　of　the　Empress　Frederick。　Even　during　her



tragic　struggle　with　Bismarck；　and　the　unpopularity　which　beset



her　during　my　former　official　term　at　Berlin；　she　had　been　kind



to　me　and　mine。　At　my　presentation　to　her　in　those　days；　at



Potsdam；　when　she　stood　by　the　side　of　her　husband；　afterward　the



most　beloved　of　emperors　since　Marcus　Aurelius；　she　evidently



exerted　herself　to　make　the　interview　pleasant　to　me。　She　talked



of　American　art　and　the　Colorado　pictures　of　Moran；　which　she　had



seen　and　admired；　of　German　art　and　the　Madonna　painted　by　Knaus



for　the　Russian　Empress；　which　Miss　Wolfe　had　given　the



Metropolitan　Museum　at　New　York；　and　in　reply　to　my



congratulations　upon　a　recent　successful　public　speech　of　her



eldest　son；　a　student　at　Bonn；　she　had　dwelt；　in　a　motherly　way；



upon　the　difficulties　which　environ　a　future　sovereign　at　a　great



university。　In　more　recent　days；　and　especially　during　the　years



before　her　death；　she　had　been；　at　her　table　in　Berlin　and　at　her



castle　of　Kronberg；　especially　courteous。　There　comes　back　to　me



pleasantly　a　kindly　retort　of　hers。　I　had　spoken　to　her　of　a



portrait　of　George　III　which　had　interested　me　at　the　old　castle



of　Homburg　nearly　forty　years　before。　It　had　been　sent　to　his



daughter；　the　Landgravine　of　Hesse…Homburg；　who　had　evidently



wished　to　see　her　father's　face　as　it　had　really　become；　for　it



represented　the　King；　not　in　the　gold…laced　uniform；　not　in　the



trim　wig　not　in　the　jauntily　tied　queue　of　his　official　portraits



and　statues；　but　as　he　was：　in　confinement；　wretched　and



demented；　in　a　slouching　gown；　with　a　face　sad　beyond　expression；



his　long；　white　hair　falling　about　it　and　over　it；　of　all



portraits　in　the　world；　save　that；　at　Florence；　of　Charles　V　in



his　old　age；　the　saddest。　So；　the　conversation　drifting　upon



George　III　and　upon　the　old　feeling　between　the　United　States　and



Great　Britain；　now　so　happily　changed；　I　happened　t