“Can the real vicar of Christ, by his inauguration, commit the double injustice of depriving the legitimate owner of his rights, and of bestowing as a sacred donation what belongs to another; and what he has no power, no authority, to dispose of?  Can Pius VII. confer on Napoleon the First what belongs to Louis XVIII.?  Would Jesus Christ, if upon earth, have acted thus?  Would his immediate successors, the Apostles, not have preferred the suffering of martyrdom to the commission of any injury?  If the present Roman pontiff acts differently from what his Master and predecessors would have done, can he be the vicar of our Saviour?”

These and many similar reflections the common people have made, and make yet.  The step from doubt to disbelief is but short, and those brought up in the Roman Catholic religion, who hesitate about believing Pius VII. to be the vicar of Christ, will soon remember the precepts of atheists and freethinkers, and believe that Christ is not the Son of God, and that God is only the invention of fear.

The fact is, that by the Pope’s performance of the coronation of an Emperor of the French, a religious as well as a political revolution was effected; and the usurper in power, whatever his creed may be, will hereafter, without much difficulty, force it on his slaves.  You may, perhaps, object that Pius VII., in his official account to the Sacred College of his journey to France, speaks with enthusiasm of the Catholicism of the French people.  But did not the Goddess of Reason, did not Robespierre as a high priest of a Supreme Being, speak as highly of their sectaries?  Read the Moniteur of 1793 and 1794, and you will be convinced of the truth of this assertion.  They, like the Pope, spoke of what they saw, and they, like him, did not see an individual who was not instructed how to perform his part, so as to give satisfaction to him whom he was to please, and to those who employed him.  As you have attended to the history of our Revolution, you have found it in great part a cruel masquerade, where none but the unfortunate Louis XVI. appeared in his native and natural character and without a mask.

The countenance of Pius VII. is placid and benign, and a kind of calmness and tranquillity pervades his address and manners, which are, however, far from being easy or elegant.  The crowds that he must have been accustomed to see since his present elevation have not lessened a timidity the consequence of early seclusion.  Nothing troubled him more than the numerous deputations of our Senate, Legislative Body, Tribunate, National Institute, Tribunals, etc., that teased him on every occasion.  He never was suspected of any vices, but all his virtues are negative; and his best quality is, not to do good, but to prevent evil.  His piety is sincere and unaffected, and it is not difficult to perceive that he has been more accustomed to address his God than to converse with men.  He is nowhere so well in his place as before