ABSOLUTE CHARACTER OF THE TEMPORAL POWER OF THE POPE.
The Counsellor de Brosses, who wished no harm to the Pope, wrote in
1740:--"The Papal Government, although in fact the worst in Europe, is
at the same time the mildest."
The Count de Tournon, an honest man, an excellent economist, a
Conservative as to all existing powers, and a judge rather too much
prejudiced in favour of the Popes, said, in 1832:--
"From this concentration of the powers of pontiff, bishop,
and sovereign, naturally arises the most absolute authority
possible over temporal affairs; but the exercise of this
authority, tempered by the usages and forms of government,
is even still more so by the virtues of the Pontiffs who for
many years have filled the chair of St. Peter; so that this
most absolute of governments is exercised with extreme
mildness. The Pope is an elective sovereign; his States are
the patrimony of Catholicism, because they are the pledge of
the independence of the chief of the faithful, and the
reigning Pope is the supreme administrator, the guardian of
this domain."
Finally, the Count de Rayneval, the latest and least felicitous
apologist of the Papacy, made in 1856 the following admissions:--
"_Not long ago_ the ancient traditions of the Court of Rome
were faithfully observed. All modifications of established
usages, all improvements, even material, were viewed with an
evil eye, and seemed full of danger. Public affairs were
exclusively managed by prelates. The higher posts in the
State were by law interdicted to laymen. In practice the
different powers were often confounded. The principle of
pontifical infallibility was applied to administrative
questions. The personal decision of the Sovereign had been
known to reverse the decision of the tribunals, even in
civil matters. The Cardinal Secretary of State, first
minister in the fullest extent of the term, concentred in
his own hands all the powers of the State. Under his supreme
direction the different branches of the administration were
confided to clerks rather than ministers. These neither
formed a council, nor deliberated together upon the affairs
of the State. The public finances were administered in the
most profound secrecy. No information was communicated to
the nation as to the mode in which its revenues were spent.
Not only did the budget remain a mystery, but it was
afterwards discovered that the accounts were frequently not
made up and balanced. Lastly, municipal liberties, which are
appreciated above all others by the Italians, and which more
particularly respond to their real tendencies, had been
submitted to the most restrictive measures. _But from the
day on which Pope Pius IX. ascended the throne_" etc. etc.
Thus we find that the _not long ago_ of the Count de Rayneval is an
exact date. It means, in good French, "before the election of Pius
IX.," or again, "up to the 16th of June, 1846."
Thus also M. de Brosses, if he could have returned to Rome in 1846,
would have found there, by the admission of the Count de Rayneval
himself, the worst government in Europe.
And thus the most absolute of governments, as M. de Tournon calls it,
still existed in Rome in 1846.
Up to the 16th of June, 1846, Catholicity owned the six millions of
acres of which the Roman territory consists; the Pope was the
administrator, the guardian, the steward; and the citizens of the
State seem to have been the ploughmen.
Up to this era of deliverance, a systematic despotism had deprived the
subjects of the Pope, not only of all participation in public affairs,
but of the simplest and most legitimate liberties, of the most
innocuous progress, and even--I shudder as I write it--of recourse to
the laws. The whim of one man had arbitrarily reversed the decisions
of the courts of law. And lastly, an incapable and disorderly caste
had wasted the public finances without rendering an account to any
one, occasionally even without rendering it to themselves. All these
statements must be believed, because it is the Count de Rayneval who
makes them.
Before proceeding, I maintain that this state of things, now admitted
by the apologists of the Papacy, justifies all the discontent of the
subjects of the Pope, all their complaints, all their recriminations,
all their outbreaks previous to 1846.
But let me ask this question. Is it true that, since 1846, the Papal
Government has ceased to be the worst in Europe?
If you can show me a worse, I will go and announce the discovery at
Rome, and I rather fancy I shall considerably astonish the Romans.
Is the absolute authority of the Papacy limited in any way but by the
individual virtues of the Pope? No.
Does the Constitution of 1848, or the _Motu Proprio_ of 1849, set
limits to this authority? No. The first has been torn up, the second
never observed.
Has the Pope renounced his title of administrator, or irresponsible
guardian of the patrimony of Catholicism? Never.
Is the management of public affairs exclusively in the hand of
prelates? As much so as ever.
Are the higher posts in the State still by law interdicted to laymen?
Not by law, but in fact they are.
Are the different powers still confounded in practice? More so than
they ever were. The governors of cities act as judges, and the bishops
as public administrators.
Has the Pope abandoned any portion of his infallibility as to worldly
matters? None whatever.
Has he deprived himself of the right of overruling the decisions of
the Courts of Appeal? No.
Has the Cardinal Secretary of State ceased to be a reigning Minister?
He reigns as absolutely as ever; and the other ministers are more like
footmen than clerks to him. They may be seen any morning waiting in
his antechamber.
Is there a Council of Ministers? Yes, whereat the Ministers attend to
receive the Cardinal's orders.
Are the public finances publicly administered? No.
Does the nation vote the taxes, or are they taken from the nation? The
old system still exists.
Are municipal liberties at all extended? They were greater in 1816
than they are at present.
At the present day, as in the days of the most extreme pontifical
despotism, the Pope is all in all; he has all; he can do all; he
exercises a perpetual dictatorship, without control or limit.
I own no systematic aversion to the exceptional exercise of a
dictatorship. The ancient Romans knew its value, often had recourse to
it, and derived benefit from it. When the enemy was at the gates, and
the Republic in danger, the Senate and the people, usually so
suspicious, placed all their rights in the hands of one man, and
cried, "Save us!" Some grand dictatorships are to be found in the
history of all times and all peoples. If we examine the different
stages of humanity, we shall find almost at every one a dictator. One
dictatorship created the unity of France, another its military
greatness, and a third its prosperity in peace. Benefits so important
as these, which nations cannot acquire alone, are well worth the
temporary sacrifice of every liberty. A man of genius, who is at the
same time an honest man, and who becomes invested with a boundless
authority, is almost a God upon earth.
But the duties of the dictator are in exact proportion to the extent
of his powers. A parliamentary sovereign, who walks in a narrow path
traced out by two Chambers, and who hears discussed in the morning
what he is to do in the evening, is almost innocent of the faults of
his reign. On the contrary, the less a dictator is responsible for his
actions by the terms of the Constitution, the more does he become so
in the eyes of posterity. History will reproach him for the good he
has failed to do, when he could do everything; and his omissions will
be accounted to him for crimes.
I will add, that under no circumstances should the dictatorship last
long. Not only would it be an absurdity to attempt to make it
hereditary, but the man who should think of exercising it perpetually
would be insane. A sick patient allows himself to be bound by the
surgeon who is about to save his life; but when the operation is over
he demands to be set at liberty. Nations act in a like manner. From
the day when the benefits conferred by the master cease to compensate
for the loss of liberty, the nation demands the restoration of its
rights, and a wise dictator will comply with the demand.
I have often conversed in the Papal States with enlightened and
honourable men, who rank as the heads of the middle class. They have
said to me almost unanimously:--
"If a man were to drop down from Heaven among us with
sufficient power to cut to the root of abuses, to reform the
administration, to send the priests to church and the
Austrians to Vienna, to promulgate a civil code, make the
country healthy, restore the plains to cultivation,
encourage manufactures, give freedom to commerce, construct
railways, secularize education, propagate modern ideas, and
put us into a condition to bear comparison with the most
enlightened countries in Europe, we would fall at his feet,
and obey him as we do God. You are told that we are
ungovernable. Give us but a prince capable of governing, and
you shall see whether we will haggle about the conditions of
power! Be he who he may, and come he whence he may, he shall
be absolutely free to do what he chooses, so long as there
is anything to be done. All we ask is, that when his task is
accomplished, he shall let us share the power with him. Rest
assured that even then we shall give him good measure. The
Italians are accommodating, and are not ungrateful. But ask
us not to support this everlasting, do-nothing, tormenting,
ruinous dictatorship, which a succession of decrepit old men
transmit from one to another. Nor do they even exercise it
themselves; but each in his turn, too weak to govern,
hastens to shift a burden which overpowers him, and delivers
us, bound hand and foot, to the worst of his Cardinals!"
It is too true that the Popes do not themselves exercise their
absolute power. If the _White Pope_, or the Holy Father, governed
personally, we might hope, with a little aid from the imagination,
that a miracle of grace would make him walk straight. He is rarely
very capable or very highly educated: but as the statue of the
Commendatore said, "He who is enlightened by Heaven wants no other
light." Unfortunately the _White Pope_ transfers his political
functions to a _Red Pope_, that is to say, an omnipotent and
irresponsible Cardinal, under the name of a Secretary of State. This
one man represents the sovereign within and without,--speaks for him,
acts for him, replies to foreigners, commands his subjects, expresses
the Pope's will, and not unfrequently imposes his own upon him.
This second-hand dictator has the best reasons in the world for
abusing his power. If he could hope to succeed his master, and wear
the crown in his turn, he might set an example, or make a show, of all
the virtues. But it is impossible for a Secretary of State to be
elected Pope. Not only is custom opposed to it, but human nature
forbids it. Never will the Cardinals in conclave assembled agree among
one another to crown the man who has ruled them all during a reign.
Old Lambruschini had taken all his measures to secure his election.
There were very few Cardinals who had not promised him their voices,
and yet it was Pius IX. who ascended the throne. The illustrious
Consalvi, one of the great statesmen of our age, made the same attempt
with as little success. After such instances it is clear that Cardinal
Antonelli has no chance of attaining the tiara; and therefore no
interest in doing good.
If he could at least hope that the successor of Pius IX. would retain
him in his functions, he might observe a little caution. But it has
never yet happened that the same Secretary of State has reigned under
two Popes. Such an event never will occur, because it never has
occurred. We are in a land where the future is the very humble servant
of the past. Tradition absolutely requires that a new Pope should
disgrace the favourite of his predecessor, by way of initiating his
Papacy with a stroke of popularity.
Thus every Secretary of State is duly warned that whenever his master
takes the road heavenward, he must become lost again in the common
herd of the Sacred College. He feels, therefore, that he ought to make
the best possible use of his time.
He has, moreover, the comfortable assurance that after his disgrace,
he will not be called upon for any account of his past deeds; for the
least of the Cardinals is as inviolable as the twelve Apostles.
Surely, then, he would be a fool to refuse anything while he has the
power to take it.
This is the place to sketch, in a few pages, the portraits of the two
men,--one of whom possesses, and the other exercises, the dictatorship
over three millions of unfortunate beings.