If it has ever been the fortune of my readers to mix in
tract-distributing circles, they will, doubtless, have become acquainted
with a peculiar style of literature which, for lack of a more appropriate
appellation, I should call the "candid inquirer" and "intelligent
operative" style. The mysteries of religion, the problems of social
existence, the intricate casuistries of contending duties, are all
explained, in a short and simple dialogue between a maid-servant and her
mistress; or a young, a very young man, and his parochial pastor, or a
ne'er-do-weel sot and a sober, industrious artisan. The price is only a
penny (a reduction made on ordering a quantity), and the logic is worthy
of the price.
In its dire distress and need the Papacy has resorted, as a forlorn hope,
to the controversial tract system. As an abstract matter this is only
fair play. The Pope has had so many millions of tracts published against
him, that it is hard if he may not produce one little one in his own
defence. His Holiness may say with truth, in the words of Juvenal,
Semper ego auditor tantum? nunquamne reponam,
Vexatus toties?
But, as a matter of policy, if he has got so very little to say for
himself, it would be perhaps wiser if he held his tongue. Be that as it
may, the Vatican has thought fit to bring out a small brown paper tract,
in answer to the celebrated, too-celebrated, pamphlet, _Le Pape et le
Congres_. The tract is of the smallest bulk, the clearest type, the best
paper, and the cheapest price. Mindful of the Horatian dictum, it
plunges at once "in medias res," and starts, out of breath, with the
following interjections: "The end of the world has come. Some want a
Pope and not a King; others half a Pope and half a King; and others
again, no Pope and no King. And who are these persons--Catholics or
Protestants, Jews or Phalansterians, believers or unbelievers? Men who
have once believed, and believe no longer, or men who have never believed
at all? Which are the most sincere of these classes? The last, who say,
'God and the people,' and who mean to say, 'No more Popes, and no more
Kings.' Which are the most hypocritical? The second, the men of half
measures, who wish for half a Pope and half a King, trusting the while,
that either Pope or King may die of inanition, or at any rate that the
King will. Which are the greatest dupes? The first, who, Pharisee-like,
offering up their prayers, and going to church once a year, deceive
themselves with the idea, that the Pope will be more powerful and more
free in the vestry of St Peter's than in the palace of the Vatican."
The above view of the devotional habits prevalent amongst the Pharisees
may appear somewhat novel, but let that pass. Meanwhile, any one
experienced in tract lore will feel certain that this outburst will be
followed by the appearance of the "candid inquirer," who comes upon the
boards at once, in obedience to the call, and addresses the eloquent
controversialist with the stereotyped phrases.
"These three classes of persons, who raise an outcry against the temporal
power of the Pope, are of different stamps; for I understand well whom
you allude to; you mean the sincere, the moderate and the devout
opponents of the Papacy. I have, however, one or two questions, I should
like to ask you; would you be kind enough to answer me?"
X of course replies, that nothing in the world would give him so much
pleasure; and during the first dialogue the candid inquirer appears in
the character of D, the devout opponent. The pamphlet is much too long
and too tedious to give in full. Happily the arguments are few in
number; and such as they are, I shall be able to pick them out without
much difficulty, quoting the exact words of the dialogue, wherever it
rises to peculiar grandeur. X opens the discussion by carrying an
assault at once into the enemy's weak places: "You devout believers say
that a Court is not fitting for a priest. Everybody, however, knows
that, at the Papal Court, the time and money of the public are not
frittered away in parties and fetes and dances. Everybody knows too that
women are not admitted to the Vatican, and therefore the habits of the
court are not effeminate, while the whole of its time is spent in
transacting state affairs; and the due course of justice is not disturbed
by certain feminine passions." After this statement, startling to any
one with a knowledge of the past, and still more to an inhabitant of Rome
at the present day, the devout inquirer wisely deserts the domain of
stern facts, and betakes himself to abstract considerations. His first
position, that the Vicar of Christ ought to follow the example of his
master, who had neither court nor kingdom, nor where to lay his head, is
upset at once by the _argumentum ad hominem_, that, according to the same
rule, every believer ought to get crucified. No escape from this dilemma
presenting itself to our friend D's devout but feeble mind, X follows up
the assault, by asking him, as a _deductio ad absurdum_, whether he
should like to see the Pope in sandals like St Peter. The catechumen
falls into the trap at once; flares up at the idea of such degradation
being inflicted on the "Master of kings and Father of the faithful;" and
asks indignantly if, for a "touch of Italianita," he is to be suspected
of having "washed away his baptism from his brow." Henceforth great D,
after "Charles Reade's" style, becomes little d. Logically speaking, it
is all over with him. If the Pope be the master of kings, he must by
analogy have the rights of a master, liberty to instruct and power to
correct. The old parallel of a schoolmaster and his scholars is adduced.
D feels he is caught; states, in the stock formula, "that this parallel
between the master of kings and the master of scholars puzzles me,
because it is unimpeachable; and yet I don't want to concede everything,
and cannot deny everything." As a last effort, he suggests with
hesitation, that "after all, a law which secured the Pope perfect liberty
of speech, action and judgment, would fulfil all the necessities of the
case; and that in other respects the Pope might be a subject like anybody
else." On this suggestion X tramples brutally. D is asked, how the
observance of this law is to be enforced, and can give no answer, on
which X bursts into the most virulent abuse of all liberal governments in
terms commensurate with the offence. "Praised be God, the days of Henry
the VIIIth are passed, and Catholics and Bishops, and all men of great
and free intellects need no longer lose their heads beneath the British
axe. But are you ignorant that the 'most catholic France' has had
proclaimed from her tribunes, that the law is of no creed? Are you
ignorant of the Josephian laws of Austria? Glory be now to her young and
most devout of catholic sovereigns! but are you not aware, that in the
reign of Joseph the bishops in that empire were not allowed to write to,
or correspond freely with, the Pope? . . . I suppose, forsooth, you
expect observance of the law from those liberal governments of yours,
which make the first use of their liberty to destroy liberty itself; who
exile bishops, and who, in the face of all the world, break the plighted
faith of treaties and concordats--oh yes, those governments, who spy into
the most secret recesses of family life, and create the monstrous and
tyrannical _Loi des suspects_, oh yes, _they_ are sure to respect the
liberty and the independence of the Bishop of Rome! and are you baby
enough to believe or imagine it?" D cowers beneath the moral lash; and
hints rather than proposes, that if one country did not respect the
Pope's freedom, he could move into another, though he admits at the same
time, he can see grave difficulties in the project. Even this admission
is unavailing to protect him from X's savage onslaught, who winds up
another torrent of vituperation with these words: "Yes! This is no
question of the Pope and the Pope's person, but of the liberty of all the
Church, and of all the Episcopate, of your liberty and mine, of the
liberty of princes, peoples, and all Christian souls. Miserable man,
have you lost all common sense, all catholic sense, even the ordinary
sense of language?" In vain D confesses his errors, owns that he is
converted, and implores mercy. "No," X replies in conclusion, "this is
not enough; your tongue has spread scandal; and even, if innocent itself,
has sown discord. The good seed is obedience and reverence to the Pope
our father and the Church our mother. Woe to the tares of the new creed!
Woe to the proud and impious men, who under the cloak of piety raise
their hands and tongues against their father and mother! The crows and
birds of prey shall feed upon their tongues, and the wrath of God shall
wither up their hands."
The demolition of D, the devout, only whets X's appetite; and heedless of
his coming doom, M, the moderate, enters the lists. As a specimen of
Papal mild facetiousness, I quote the commencement of the second
dialogue.
M. "Great news! a great book!"
X. "Where from?"
M. "From Paris."
X. "A dapper-dandy then, I suppose?"
M. "No, a political pamphlet."
X. "Well, that is the same as a political dandy."
M. "A pamphlet explaining the policy of the Moderates."
X. "You mean, of the Moderate intellects?"
M. "No, I mean the policy of the Moderates, a policy of compromise,
between the Holy Father and, and--"
X. "Say what you really mean,--between the Holy Father and the Holy
Revolution."
After this test of M's intellectual calibre, I am not surprised to learn
that he is treated throughout with the most contemptuous playfulness. He
is horror-struck at learning that, in fact, he is nothing better "than a
mediator between Christ and Beelzebub." He is joked about the _fait
accompli_; and asked whether he would consider a box on his ears was
excused and accounted for by a similar denomination of the occurrence;
questioned, whether he would like himself to be deprived of all his
property; and at last dumbfounded by the inquiry, whether the reasoning
of his beloved pamphlet is anything but rank communism. M, in fact,
after this tirade ceases any attempt at argument, and contents himself
with feeble suggestions, which afford to X fertile openings for the
exercise of his vituperative abilities. For instance, M drops a hint
that the Pope might be placed under the guarantee and protection of the
Catholic powers; on which X retorts: "The Catholic powers indeed! First
of all, you ought to be sure whether the Catholic powers will not
co-operate with the Jew, in the disgraceful act of plundering Christ
through his Vicar, in order to guarantee him afterwards the last shreds
of his garment." (Another somewhat novel view, by the way, of Gospel
history.) "Secondly, you should learn whether any tribunal in the world,
in the name of common justice, would place the victim under the
protection and guarantee of his spoiler." When M expresses a doubt
whether there is any career for a soldier or statesman under the Papal
Government, his doubts are removed by the reflection that the Roman
statesmen are no worse off than the French, and that, if Roman soldiers
don't fight, and Roman orators don't speak, it is because the exertion of
their faculties would not prove beneficial to themselves or others. Then
follows one of those ejaculatory paragraphs, which
tract-controversialists generally, and X especially, delight in. "You!
yes, you! applaud that Parisian insult-monger, who after having robbed
Rome of the provinces, that give her power and splendour, and having left
her a city maimed of hands and feet, with a frontier two fingers'-length
from the Vatican, then speaks of Rome thus degraded; he, I say, this
author of yours--this legislator of yours--this Parisian of yours, speaks
in the words of _Le Pape et le Congres_,"--and so on, through a labyrinth
of exclamatory parentheses. "Moderate" is overwhelmed by all this;
becomes convinced and converted; and, after the fashion of Papal
converts, out-Herods Herod in the ardour of his zeal. He volunteers to X
the following original view of French politics: "I can understand the
anger of the (French) journals because France has been so unfortunate in
her Italian enterprise. She promised, she advised, she threatened; and
promises, advice, and threats are alike dispersed in air. She promised
and placarded on all the walls the independence of Italy from the Alps to
the Adriatic. Where is her promise now? She promised and published
through all the Churches the freedom and integrity of the Papal
dominions. Where is her promise now? She advised Piedmont, she advised
the Duchies, she advised the Romagna, and her advice was neither received
nor accepted. Where is her advice now? Then came the threats of the
31st of December last, and, with profound respect, she threatened the
Pope to sacrifice the Romagna; and her prayers or her threats, as you
like, where are they now?" Again, of his own accord, M asserts, as a
self-evident fact, that "morality and justice have no better sanctuary
and no purer inspirations than are to be found in the Court of the
Vatican." What slight difficulties he still entertains are removed at
once. He asks X candidly to tell him whether the Papal government is
really a bad one or not, and is satisfied with the quotation "Sunt bona
mixta malis;" he then inquires, in all simplicity, why there are so many
complaints and outbreaks against the Papal rule? and is told, in
explanation, that the Pope is persecuted because he is weak. X,
emboldened by his easy triumph, ridicules the notion of any reforms being
granted by the Papacy, states that what is wanted is a reform in the
Papal subjects, not in the Papal rulers, and finally falls foul of poor
M, in such language as this:--"What good can we ever expect from this
race of Moderates, who in all revolutions are sent out as pioneers, who
have ruined every state in turn by shutting their eyes to every danger,
and parleying with every revolution, and who would propose a compromise
even with fire or fever, or plague itself." After this, X repeats the
old fable of the horse and the man, and then launches into a tirade
against France: "You refused to believe that Italy replaced foreign
influence by foreign dominion on the day on which France crossed the
Alps. Do you still disbelieve in the treason which is plotting against
Italy, by depriving her of her natural bulwarks, Savoy, Nice, and the
maritime Alps? Do you not see, that while you are lulled to sleep by the
syren song of Italian independence, Italy is weakened, dismembered and
enslaved?" A last suggestion of M, that possibly the language of the
encyclical letter was a little too strong, brings forth the following
retort: "It was strong, and tasted bitter to diseased and vitiated
palates, but to the lips of justice the taste was sweet and satisfying.
Poor nations! What have politics become? What filth we are obliged to
swallow! What scandal to the people; what a lesson of immorality is this
fashion of outraging every principle of right, with sword, tongue and
pen! In this chaos, blessed be Providence, there is one free voice left,
the voice of St Peter, which is raised in defence of justice, despised
and disregarded." Hereupon M confesses, "on the faith of a Moderate,"
that the refusal of the Pope to accept the advice of the Emperor was "an
act worthy of him, both as Pope and Italian sovereign," and then retires
in shame and confusion.
S, the sincere opponent, then enters and announces with foolish pride,
that "Italy shall be free, and the gates of hell shall prevail." Pride
cometh before a fall, and S is shortly convinced that his remark was
profane, and that, by his own shewing, liberty was a gift of hell. S
then repeats a number of common-places about the rights of men, the voice
of the people, and the will of the majority; and as, in every case, he
quotes these common-places incorrectly and inappropriately, X upsets him
without effort. As a specimen of the style of logic adopted, I will take
one case at hazard. S states that "his reason of all reasons is, that
Italy belongs to the Italians, and that the Italians have the right of
dividing it, uniting it, and governing it, as seems good in their own
sight." To this X answers, "I adopt and apply your own principle. Turin,
with its houses, belongs to the Turinese; therefore the Turinese have the
right to divide or unite the houses of Turin, or drive out their
possessors, as seems good in their own sight." The gross
disingenuousness, the palpable quibble in this argument, need no
exposure. Logically, however, the argument is rather above the usual
range. X then proceeds to frighten S with the old bugbears;--the
impossibility of real union between the Italian races; the absorption of
the local small capitals in the event of a great kingdom, and the
certainty that the European powers will never consent to an Italian
monarchy. This conclusion is a short _resume_ of Papal history, which
will somewhat surprise the readers of Ranke and Gibbon.
"After the death of Constantine, the almost regal authority of the Popes
in reality commenced. Gregory the Great, created Pope 440 A.D. was
compelled for the safety of Italy to exercise this authority against the
Lombards on one hand, and the rapacious Exarchs on the other. About 726
A.D. Gregory II. declined the offer of Ravenna, Venice, and the other
Italian States, who conferred upon him, in name as well as in fact, the
sovereignty of Italy. At last, in 741 A.D. when Italy was not only
deserted in her need, but threatened from Byzantium with desolation and
heresy, Gregory III. called in the aid of Charles Martel, that Italy
might not perish; and by this law, a law of life and preservation, and
through the decree of Providence, the Popes became Italian sovereigns,
both in right and fact." On this very lucid and satisfactory account of
the origin of the Papal power, S is convinced at once, and is finally
dismissed shamefaced, with the unanswerable interrogation, "whether the
real object of the Revolution is not to create new men, new nations, new
reason, new humanity, and a new God?"
The three abstractions, S, M, D, then re-assemble to recant their errors.
One and all avow themselves confuted, and convicted of folly or worse. X
gives them absolution with the qualified approval, that "he rejoices in
their moral amendment, and trusts the change may be a permanent one," and
then asks them, as an elementary question in their new creed, "What is
the true and traditional liberty of Italy, the only one worthy to be
sought and loved by all Italians?" To this question with one voice S and
M and D make answer, "Liberty with law, law with religion, and religion
with the Pope." The course of instruction is completed, and if anybody
is still unconvinced by the arguments of the all-wise X, I am afraid that
his initial letter must be a Z.
So much for the _Independenza e Papa_, as the pamphlet is styled. I have
given, I fear, a somewhat lengthy account of it; not for its literary
merits, which are small, but as being the best native defence of the
Papacy I have come across. The dull dead _vis inertiae_ which formed the
real strength of the Papacy has been of late exchanged for a petty
useless fussiness. Ever since Guerroniere's pamphlet fell like a bomb
upon the Vatican there has been a perfect array of paper-champions, sent
forth to do battle for the Papal cause. They are mostly, it is true, of
foreign growth. Extracts from Montalembert, De Falloux, and Berryer's
speeches, patched together and re-garnished; reprints of the Episcopal
charges in France; editions of Count Sola della Margherita's much
be-praised work; and, I regret to say, translations of Lord Normanby's
speeches in the House of Lords, are advertised daily on the walls of
Rome. Of native and original productions there have been but few.
Literary talent does not flourish in Rome, and what little there is, is
all retained against the Government. The _Eye-glance at the Encyclical_,
the _Widow's Mite_, and the _Tears of St Peter_, are the titles of some
of the anonymous pro-Papal tracts published under Government patronage;
of these the _Independenza e Papa_, which is sold at the printing-office
of the _Giornale di Roma_, is decidedly the ablest and most respectable.