CHAPTER I.

THE ROMAN QUESTION

by

E. ABOUT

Translated From The French By H. C. Coape

New York:

D. Appleton and Company,

346 & 348 Broadway

1859

PREFACE

It was in the Papal States that I studied the Roman Question. I

travelled over every part of the country; I conversed with men of all

opinions, examined things very closely, and collected my information

on the spot.

My first impressions, noted down from day to day without any especial

object, appeared, with some necessary modifications, in the _Moniteur

Universel_. These notes, truthful, somewhat unconnected, and so

thoroughly impartial, that it would be easy to discover in them

contradictions and inconsistencies, I was obliged to discontinue, in

consequence of the violent outcry of the Pontifical Government. I did

more. I threw them in the fire, and wrote a book instead. The present

volume is the result of a year's reflection.

I completed my study of the subject by the perusal of the most recent

works published in Italy. The learned memoir of the Marquis Pepoli,

and the admirable reply of an anonymous writer to M. de Rayneval,

supplied me with my best weapons. I have been further enlightened by

the conversation and correspondence of some illustrious Italians, whom

I would gladly name, were I not afraid of exposing them to danger.

The pressing condition of Italy has obliged me to write more rapidly

than I could have wished; and this enforced haste has given a certain

air of warmth, perhaps of intemperance, even to the most carefully

matured reflections. It was my intention to produce a memoir,--I fear

I may be charged with having written a pamphlet. Pardon me certain

vivacities of style, which I had not time to correct, and plunge

boldly into the heart of the book. You will find something there.

I fight fairly, and in good faith. I do not pretend to have judged the

foes of Italy without passion; but I have calumniated none of them.

If I have sought a publisher in Brussels, while I had an excellent one

in Paris, it is not because I feel any alarm on the score of the

regulations of our press, or the severity of our tribunals. But as the

Pope has a long arm, which might reach me in France, I have gone a

little out of the way to tell him the plain truths contained in these

pages.

May 9, 1859.

CONTENTS

CHAPTER

I. THE POPE AS A KING

II. NECESSITY OF THE TEMPORAL POWER

III. THE PATRIMONY OF THE TEMPORAL POWER

IV. THE SUBJECTS OF THE TEMPORAL POWER

V. OF THE PLEBEIANS

VI. THE MIDDLE CLASSES

VII. THE NOBILITY

VIII. FOREIGNERS

IX. ABSOLUTE CHARACTER OF THE TEMPORAL POWER OF THE POPE

X. PIUS IX

XI. ANTONELLI

XII. PRIESTLY GOVERNMENT

XIII. POLITICAL SEVERITY

XIV. THE IMPUNITY OF REAL CRIME

XV. TOLERANCE

XVI. EDUCATION OF THE PEOPLE

XVII. FOREIGN OCCUPATION

XVIII. WHY THE POPE WILL NEVER HAVE SOLDIERS

XIX. MATERIAL INTERESTS

XX. FINANCES

CONCLUSION

CHAPTER I.

THE POPE AS A KING.

The Roman Catholic Church, which I sincerely respect, consists of one

hundred and thirty-nine millions of individuals--without counting

little Mortara.

It is governed by seventy Cardinals, or Princes of the Church, in

memory of the twelve Apostles.

The Cardinal-Bishop of Rome, who is also designated by the name of

Vicar of Jesus Christ, Holy Father, or Pope, is invested with

boundless authority over the minds of these hundred and thirty-nine

millions of Catholics.

The Cardinals are nominated by the Pope; the Pope is nominated by the

Cardinals; from the day of his election he becomes infallible, at

least in the opinion of M. de Maistre, and the best Catholics of our

time.

This was not the opinion of Bossuet; but it has always been that of

the Popes themselves.

When the Sovereign Pontiff declares to us that the Virgin Mary was

born free from original sin, the hundred and thirty-nine millions of

Catholics are bound to believe it on his word. This is what has

recently occurred.

This discipline of the understanding reflects infinite credit upon the

nineteenth century. If posterity does us justice, it will be grateful

to us therefor. It will see that instead of cutting one another's

throats about theological questions, we have surveyed lines of

railway, laid telegraphs, constructed steam-engines, launched ships,

pierced isthmuses, created sciences, corrected laws, repressed

factions, fed the poor, civilized barbarians, drained marshes,

cultivated waste lands, without ever having a single dispute as to the

infallibility of a man.

But the busiest age, the age which the best knows the value of time,

may be obliged for a moment to neglect its business. If, for instance,

it should remark around Rome and its Bishop a violent agitation, which

neither the trickery of diplomacy nor the pressure of armies can

suppress; if it perceive in a little corner of a peninsula a

smouldering fire, which may at any moment burst forth, and in

twenty-four hours envelope all Europe, this age, prudent from a sense

of duty, on account of the great things it has to accomplish, turns

its attention to the situation of Rome, and insists upon knowing what

it all means.

It means that the simple princes of the middle ages, Pepin the Brief,

Charlemagne, and the Countess Matilda, behaved with great liberality

to the Pope. They gave him lands and men, according to the fashion of

the times, when men, being merely the live-stock of the land, were

thrown into the bargain. If they were generous, it was not because

they thought, with M. Thiers, that the Pope could not be independent

without being a King; they had seen him in his poverty more

independent and more commanding than almost any monarch on the earth.

They enriched him from motives of friendship, calculation, gratitude,

or it might even be to disinherit their relations, as we sometimes see

in our own time. Since the days of the Countess Matilda, the Pope,

having acquired a taste for possession, has gone on rounding his

estate. He has obtained cities by capitulation, as in the case of

Bologna; he has won others at the cannon's mouth, as Rimini; while

some he has appropriated, by treachery and stealth, as Ancona. Indeed

so well have matters been managed, that in 1859 the Bishop of Rome is

the temporal sovereign of about six millions of acres, and reigns over

three millions one hundred and twenty-four thousand six hundred and

sixty-eight men, who are all crying out loudly against him.

What do they complain of? Only listen, and you will soon learn.

They say--that the authority to which, without having either asked or

accepted it, they are subject, is the most fundamentally absolute that

was ever defined by Aristotle; that the legislative, executive, and

judicial powers are united, confounded, and jumbled together in one

and the same hand, contrary to the practice of civilized states, and

to the theory of Montesquieu; that they willingly recognize the

infallibility of the Pope upon all religious questions, but that in

civil matters it appears to them less easy to tolerate; that they do

not refuse to obey, because, all things considered, man is not placed

here below to follow the bent of his own inclinations, but that they

would be glad to obey laws; that the good pleasure of any man, however

good it may be, is not so good as the _Code Napoléon_; that the

reigning Pope is not an evil-disposed man, but that the arbitrary

government of one man, even admitting his infallibility, can never be

anything but a bad government.

That in virtue of an ancient and hitherto ineradicable practice, the

Pope is assisted in the temporal government of his States by the

spiritual chiefs, subalterns, and spiritual _employés_ of his Church;

that Cardinals, Bishops, Canons, Priests, forage pell-mell about the

country; that one sole and identical caste possesses the right of

administering both sacraments and provinces; of confirming little boys

and the judgments of the lower courts; of ordaining subdeacons and

arrests; of despatching parting souls and captains' commissions; that

this confusion of the spiritual and the temporal disseminates among

the higher offices a multitude of men, excellent no doubt in the sight

of God, but insupportable in that of the people; often strangers to

the country, sometimes to business, and always to those domestic ties

which are the basis of every society; without any special knowledge,

unless it be of the things of another world; without children, which

renders them indifferent to the future of the nation; without wives,

which renders them dangerous to its present; and to conclude,

unwilling to hear reason, because they believe themselves

participators in the pontifical infallibility.

That these servants of a most merciful but sometimes severe God,

simultaneously abuse both mercy and justice; that, full of indulgence

for the indifferent, for their friends, and for themselves, they treat

with extreme rigour whoever has had the misfortune to become obnoxious

to power; that they more readily pardon the wretch who cuts a man's

throat, than the imprudent citizen who blames an abuse.

That the Pope, and the Priests who assist him, not having been taught

accounts, grossly mismanage the public finances; that whereas

maladministration or malversation of the public finances might have

been tolerated a hundred years ago, when the expenses of public

worship and of the papal court were defrayed by one hundred and

thirty-nine millions of Catholics, it is a widely different affair

now, when they have to be supported by 3,124,668 individuals.

That they do not complain of paying taxes, because it is a universally

established practice, but that they wish to see their money spent upon

terrestrial objects; that the sight of basilicas, churches, and

convents built or maintained at their expense, rejoices them as

Catholics, but grieves them as citizens, because, after all, these

edifices are but imperfect substitutes for railways and roads, for the

clearing of rivers, and the erection of dykes against inundations;

that faith, hope, and charity receive more encouragement than

agriculture, commerce, and manufactures; that public simplicity is

developed to the detriment of public education.

That the law and the police are too much occupied with the salvation

of souls, and too little with the preservation of bodies; that they

prevent honest people from damning themselves by swearing, reading bad

books, or associating with Liberals, but that they don't prevent

rascals from murdering honest people; that property is as badly

protected as persons; and that it is very hard to be able to reckon

upon nothing for certain but a stall in Paradise.

That they are made to pay heavily for keeping up an army without

knowledge or discipline, an army of problematical courage and doubtful

honours, and destined never to fight except against the citizens

themselves; that it is adding insult to injury to make a man pay for

the stick he is beaten with. That they are moreover obliged to lodge

foreign armies, and especially Austrians, who, as Germans, are

notoriously heavy-fisted.

To conclude, they say all this is not what the Pope promised them in

his _motu proprio_ of the 19th of September; and it is sad to find

infallible people breaking their most sacred engagements.

I have no doubt these grievances are exaggerated. It is impossible to

believe that an entire nation can be so terribly in the right against

its masters. We will examine the facts of the case in detail before we

decide. We have not yet arrived at that point.

You have just heard the language, if not of the whole 3,124,668

people, at least of the most intelligent, the most energetic, and the

most interesting part of the nation. Take away the conservative

party,--that is to say, those who have an interest in the

government,--and the unfortunate creatures whom it has utterly

brutalized,--and there will remain none but malcontents.

The malcontents are not all of the same complexion. Some politely and

vainly ask the Holy Father to reform abuses: this is the moderate

party. Others propose to themselves a thorough reform of the

government: they are called radicals, revolutionists, or

Mazzinists--rather an injurious term. This latter category is not

precisely nice as to the measures to be resorted to. It holds, with

the Society of Jesus, that the end justifies the means. It says, if

Europe leaves it _tête-à-tête_ with the Pope, it will begin by cutting

his throat; and if foreign potentates oppose such criminal violence,

it will fling bombs under their carriages.

The moderate party expresses itself plainly, the Mazzinists noisily.

Europe must be very stupid, not to understand the one; very deaf, not

to hear the other.

What then happens?

All the States which desire peace, public order, and civilization,

entreat the Pope to correct some abuse or other. "Have pity," they

say, "if not upon your subjects, at least upon your neighbours, and

save _us_ from the conflagration!"

As often as this intervention is renewed, the Pope sends for his

Secretary of State. The said Secretary of State is a Cardinal who

reigns over the Holy Father in temporal matters, even as the Holy

Father reigns over a hundred and thirty nine millions of Catholics in

spiritual matters. The Pope confides to the Cardinal Minister the

source of his embarrassment, and asks him what is to be done.

The Cardinal, who is the minister of everything in the State, replies,

without a moment's hesitation, to the old sovereign:--

"In the first place, there are no abuses: in the next place,

if there were any, we must not touch them. To reform

anything is to make a concession to the malcontents. To give

way, is to prove that we are afraid. To admit fear, is to

double the strength of the enemy, to open the gates to

revolution, and to take the road to Gaeta, where the

accommodation is none of the best. Don't let us leave home.

I know the house we live in; it is not new, but it will last

longer than your Holiness--provided no attempt is made to

repair it. After us the deluge; we've got no children!"

"All very true," replies the Pope.

"But the sovereign who is entreating me to do something, is

an eldest son of the Church. He has rendered us great

services. He still protects us constantly. What would become

of us if he abandoned us?"

"Don't be alarmed," says the Cardinal. "I'll arrange the matter

diplomatically." And he sits down, and writes an invariable note, in a

diplomatically tortuous style, which may thus be summed up:--

"We want your soldiers, and not your advice, seeing that we

are infallible. If you were to show any symptom of doubting

that infallibility, and if you attempted to force anything

upon us, even our preservation, we would fold our wings

around our countenances, we would raise the palms of

martyrdom, and we should become an object of compassion to

all the Catholics in the universe. You know we have in your

country forty thousand men who are at liberty to say

everything, and whom you pay with your own money to plead

our cause. They shall preach to your subjects, that you are

tyrannizing over the Holy Father, and we shall set your

country in a blaze without appearing to touch it."

The Roman Question · 第 1 / 20 章