Four months later, Mgr. Pie was obliged to refute a new pamphlet,

entitled, “_France, Rome and Italy_,” and so endeavor to prevent new

iniquities. He feared not to formulate the following terrible rebuke,

which was denounced as seditious, but which history has already confirmed

as a sentence:

“Pilate had it in his power to save Christ, and without Pilate He could

not be put to death. The death-warrant could only come from him; _nobis

non licet interficere_, said the Jews. Wash thy hands, O Pilate! declare

thyself guiltless of the death of Christ. Our only answer every day will

be, and the latest posterity will repeat the same: I believe in Jesus

Christ, the only Son of the Father, who was conceived of the Holy Ghost,

who was born of the Virgin Mary, who suffered death and passion under

Pontius Pilate; _Quipassus est sub Pontio Pilato_.”

It was no secret when these words were spoken, as it was to Lamoriciere

and his brave army, that the government of the French Emperor encouraged

and patronized the iniquitous aggressions of Piedmont, whilst it

pretended, in the face of Europe, to support the Holy See.

(M77) “It was not Garibaldi and his volunteers,” said the Revue des deux

Mondes, “that General Lamoriciere had to fight; the odds in that case

would not have been so unequal. But he had the regular army of Piedmont

before him—an army six times more numerous than his own. Nor was it the

attack merely of a revolutionary party which was now directed against the

temporal power of the Papacy. It was a government incomparably more

powerful than the Pope’s, which decreed arbitrarily itself alone, and in

the face of the other nations of the world, the suppression of this power,

and which accomplished that suppression by the irresistible force of its

arms, and under the eyes of our garrison in Rome.” Whilst Austria, not

from any want of sympathy with the Holy See, but from the dread her

cautious ministry, who had penetrated the designs of France, entertained

of a new French invasion, looked tamely on from the heights of her

quadrilateral, the French Emperor secretly expressed his approval of the

Piedmontese attack on the Papal States, and at the same time publicly

withdrew his ambassador at Turin, as a protest in the face of mankind

against this unprovoked and unjustifiable attack. England, which could not

be supposed to have much sympathy with the Holy See, notwithstanding the

declarations of her best statesmen in support of the temporal sovereignty,

openly pronounced in favor of the Piedmontese aggression on the Pope, who,

in trying times, had been her most faithful ally. But the days of the

elder Bonaparte were forgotten, and too much could not be done to

conciliate the new ally whom the English had found in the second

Bonaparte. So their representative, Sir John Hudson, remained at Turin,

and was the confidential adviser there of Count de Cavour, while Sir Henry

Elliot continued to reside at Naples after that city had become the

headquarters of Garibaldi. The great Northern Powers, Russia and Prussia,

acted a more honorable part. Even before the fall of Ancona was known,

they both withdrew their ambassadors from Turin. Von Schleinitz, the

Prussian Prime Minister, protested energetically against the unwarrantable

aggression of Piedmont. M. de Cavour, who understood the tendencies of the

time, replied to Von Schleinitz, as if uttering a prophecy: “I regret that

the Court of Berlin should judge so severely the conduct of the king and

his government. I am conscious of acting in the interests of my sovereign

and my country. I might reply successfully to what M. Von Schleinitz says.

But, be that as it may, I console myself with the thought that, on the

present occasion, I am setting an example which Prussia, within a short

time probably, will be happy to follow.”

The cannonade had scarcely ceased to be heard at Ancona, when the Holy

Father raised his voice in a consistorial allocution of 28th September,

which, although addressed to the cardinals, is intended for the whole

civilized world. The allocution briefly enumerates the several acts of

aggression successively committed by the Piedmontese. It then alludes to

Cavour’s audacious letter, which was intended as a justification

beforehand of the violation of territory, and the fearful bloodshed which

followed. It expresses the false accusations, the repeated calumnies and

insults which were put forward as a pretext for the invasion. It also

rebukes “the singular malignity with which the Piedmontese government

dared to call the Pontifical soldiers _mercenaries_, when so many of them,

both Italians and foreigners, were of noble lineage, bearing illustrious

names, and had resolved to serve in our troops without pay, and for the

sole love of our holy religion.” The fact is established, to the disgrace

of Piedmont, that the Papal government “could have had no intimation of

the enemy’s purpose. The general-in-chief commanding our forces could not

have entertained the thought of having to contend with the soldiers of

Piedmont.” The meed of praise is awarded to the fallen warriors, together

with the expression of unfeigned sorrow for their loss: “Whilst we must

bestow merited praise on the general, his officers and his men, we can

scarcely restrain our tears as we remember all those brave soldiers, those

noble young men especially, who had been impelled by faith and their own

generous hearts to fly to the defence of the temporal power of the Roman

Church, and who have met with their death in this cruel and unjust

invasion. We are deeply moved by the grief of their families; and would to

God it were in our power, by any word of ours, to dry up the source of

their tears!” If anything could be worse than the savage and murderous

attack of Piedmont, it was the hypocritical pretence under which it was

undertaken. The invaders came as “the restorers of moral order and as the

preachers of tolerance and charity.” The allocution concludes by

denouncing this hypocrisy, together with the diplomatic principle of

non-intervention, of which France and Piedmont set such brilliant

examples.

(M78) The King of Sardinia having violently seized Umbria and the Marches

of Ancona, must also have a mock plebiscitum, in order, no doubt, to make

it appear that these provinces were spontaneously annexed to his kingdom.

The fall of Gaeta and the conquest of Naples by Garibaldi encouraged the

ambitious monarch in these unjustifiable annexations, and although

generally condemned by the European press, he most audaciously issued a

proclamation in reply to the Papal allocution. All these nefarious acts,

together with the outrages everywhere perpetrated against all who remained

loyal to the Holy See and faithful to the sacred laws of the church,

induced the Holy Father to publish the now celebrated allocution of March

18th, 1861. This allocution is perhaps the greatest doctrinal utterance of

the Pontificate of Pius IX. But it must be considered in connection with

the _syllabus_, which will now shortly be noticed.

The Emperor Napoleon had, indeed, suspended public diplomatic relations

with the court of Turin. This was intended merely as a blind, for he

continued to negotiate secretly, through Prince Jerome Napoleon,

concerning Rome, and what yet remained to the Pope of his states. He

appeared to bind Piedmont to respect the sovereignty and independence of

the Holy See, and had no objections that the Pope should raise an army

designed only for defensive purposes. On such conditions the Emperor would

acknowledge the new kingdom of Italy. In all this there was a want of

sincerity. Count Cavour, Prince Napoleon and the Emperor, were perfectly

agreed that the Holy Father was, in due course of time, to be given up to

his enemies.

(M79) In order to prepare the world for this consummation of

Franco-Sardinian policy, there appeared a new pamphlet, entitled _La

France, Rome et l’Italie_. It was signed by M. de la Gueronniere, and

published on the 7th day of March. It was suggested, if not actually

written, by the Emperor himself. The allocution already alluded to, dealt

by anticipation with the chief points of this publication. It was,

however, directly replied to in a letter of the eminent Cardinal

Antonelli, to the Papal Minister at Paris. The cardinal begins by stating

that the chief object of the pamphlet was “to throw on the Holy Father and

his government the responsibility of the condition to which Italy and the

Pontifical States in particular were reduced.” He then proceeds lucidly,

logically, and not without eloquence, to attack all the positions assumed

by the writer, and exposes the treachery, baseness and duplicity of the

principal adversaries of the Holy See in its long struggle with

revolutionary Piedmont, supported as it was by the Emperor Napoleon III.

It will be recollected that it had been proposed, indeed it was one of the

articles of the treaty of Zurich, that there should be a confederation of

the States of Italy. The writer of the pamphlet audaciously accused the

Pope of having rejected the plan of an Italian confederacy, just as if he

and not the Emperor and his ally, the King of Piedmont, had violated the

treaty which succeeded the battle of Solferino. “The official proposition

of such a confederacy,” the cardinal states, “and of its presidency came

only after the preliminaries of Villafranca and the treaty of Zurich; and

the Holy Father showed himself disposed to accept it as soon as its basis

should be defined. The author, nevertheless, says that it was then too

late. He does not, in saying so, seem to perceive that he seriously

insults his own sovereign, as if he and the other Powers had proposed as

the basis of a solemn treaty and the great means of conciliation, a thing

which was at that moment neither possible nor opportune. Be that as it

may, it was only then that the proposition was made by the person

authorized to make it; and it is unjust to pretend that his Holiness had

taken any action thereon before it was laid before him. Since, therefore,

the plan fell through independently of his refusal, how can he, without a

positive act of calumny, be accused of obstinacy on this point?”

The cardinal’s letter is of great length. In one place he recapitulates

the heads of accusation contained in the pamphlet. “Putting aside,” says

he, “the unfounded assertions, the matters foreign to the case, which

helped to fill up the pamphlet, the obstinacy which it imputes to the Holy

Father amounts to his having declined an abdication which his conscience

condemned, to his having deferred some reforms that were promised till the

revolted provinces had returned to their allegiance; to his having

proposed to recruit an army for himself instead of accepting the troops

offered to him; to his having preferred the voluntary offerings of the

faithful to subsidies furnished by governments which are not all nor

always equally disposed to be friendly. And these acts of firmness, of

noble disinterestedness, which must appear most praiseworthy to the

unprejudiced mind, which have appeared and do still appear worthy of the

admiration of Protestants, seem, on the other hand, to the Catholic author

of the pamphlet, to be so blameworthy that he could not find more bitter

words of censure were he to write against those who are alone responsible

for the sad disorders of the present time. But this is precisely what is

of a nature to surprise us. The Imperial government of France had given

advice to his Holiness; it had also given advice to the Piedmontese

government. Now, if the Holy Father must be accused of not having followed

such advice, the Piedmontese government does not seem to have been more

docile. His Holiness did not deem it expedient to do some things desired

by the French government. But Piedmont did a great many things which the

French government had publicly declared it was opposed to. The Imperial

government forbade the violation of the neutrality of the Papal States;

and to this the Piedmontese government responded by occupying the Romagna.

The Imperial government disapproved annexation; and the Piedmontese

government only answered by accomplishing annexation. The Imperial

government forbade, in threatening language, the invasion of the Marches

and Umbria; and the Piedmontese government responded by pouring grape shot

into the small Pontifical army, by bombarding Ancona from sea and land,

and by refusing to observe any of the laws of war acknowledged by all

civilized nations. The author of the pamphlet allows his pen the most

cruel license against the Holy See, but has not one single word of blame

for the Piedmontese government. Who can explain such an attitude? The

explanation is a very natural one, and is given on the last page of the

pamphlet, where the author tells us that the Emperor of the French _cannot

sacrifice Italy to the Court of Rome, nor give up the Papacy to the

revolution_; which means that the Court of Rome must be sacrificed to the

exigencies of the peninsula, that the temporal dominion of the Holy See

must be done away with, because it is in the way of the unification of

Italy, and that this suppression is to prevent the Papacy or the spiritual

power from falling beneath the blows of the revolution.” It cannot fail to

be remarked that in all the French Emperor’s manifestos appears the

pretext of protecting the Papacy from the revolution, whilst, but for his

interference, it needed not such protection. Pius IX. was quite able to

contend successfully against whatever revolutionary element there was in

the Pontifical States. With the aid of his allies, he could also have

repelled the attacks of Piedmont, if unsupported by the French. But

against a Power so great that it could command the non-intervention of all

other Powers, he was powerless. It may have afforded a momentary pleasure

to the Carbonaro Prince, Napoleon III., to annihilate, for the sake of his

way of promoting Italian unification, the time-honored sovereignty of the

Pope. It afforded him no lasting benefit. Germany caught the idea, and

becoming unified, hurled her legions against the common European enemy,

who, in his day of sorest need, found not an ally, not so much as one

powerful friend even in that Italy for which he had done and sacrificed so

much.

(M80) It now only remained for young Italy, revolutionized as it was, to

assume and wear its blushing honors. Piedmont having seized Umbria and the

Marches of Ancona, and having also, through her agent Garibaldi, taken

possession of Sicily and Naples, was mistress not only of the greater

portion of the Pontifical States, but also of almost all Italy at the same

time. It became such greatness to have a parliament. Accordingly, the

first Italian parliament assembled at Turin in February, 1861; and on the

14th of March, Victor Emmanuel was proclaimed King of Italy. It was not,

however, till the 24th of June that the French Emperor found it convenient

to recognize this extended sovereignty. In doing so, no doubt, he was

consistent with himself, although quite at variance with the professions

of him who had so lately withdrawn his ambassador from the Court of Turin.

(M81) Count de Cavour lived not to enjoy this recognition. He died on the

6th of June. This minister was a politician to the end; and he had no wish

ever to be anything else. He was anxious, however, at the close, to have

the merit of reconciliation with the church which he had so cruelly

persecuted, both in the ancient State of Sardinia and in the newly-annexed

territories of the “Kingdom of Italy.” Finding that his latter end was

approaching, he desired the presence of Friar Giacomo, Rector of the

Madonna degli Angeli. This Friar, with whom, as is related, the Count had

had a previous understanding, faithfully came. M. de Cavour remained alone

with him for half an hour; and when the priest was gone he called Farini,

and said to him: “My niece has had Fra Giacomo to come to me; I must

prepare for the dread passage to eternity; I have made my confession and

received absolution. I wish all to know, and the good people of Turin

particularly, that I die like a good Christian. I am at peace with myself.

I have never wronged any one.” It is a trite saying that the ruling

passion of a man’s life asserts its power at the hour of death; and the

last recorded words of Count de Cavour would seem to show that to the end

he was more bent on politics than prayer. As Friar Giacomo was reciting

solemnly by his bedside the prayers for the departing soul, “Frate!

Frate!” he exclaimed, whilst he pressed the Friar’s hand, “_libera chiesa

in libera stato_!” (a free church in a free state). Admirable, no doubt.

But how was the great idea to be realized, since the church could only be

free when her ministers were dictated to, imprisoned, banished, and

otherwise tormented? And what freedom for the state, unless it were free

to tyrannize over and persecute the church? Judging Cavour and his party

by their acts rather than their fine speeches, such was their idea of _a

free church in a free state_. If it be true that, as men live so they die,

it is not true that Count de Cavour died like a good Christian. None will

be inclined to dispute with him the comfort which he claimed of being at

peace with himself. But they who are aware of the violence, the

spoliation, the rapine, bloodshed, and unspeakable suffering, in all which

he was, at least, an accomplice, if not the direct cause, throughout the

States of the Italian Grand Dukes, the Pontifical territories and the

kingdom of Naples, will not easily acknowledge that he spoke truth when he

said that “he had never wronged anyone.” But let us now be silent. There

is _One_, and only _One_, who judgeth.

(M82) Considering the assistance so recently afforded to Turkey by the

Christian Powers, her Christian subjects were surely entitled to her

protection, But gratitude, it would appear, is not one of the virtues of

Islamism. In June, 1860, the Pachas disarmed and delivered up to their

deadly enemies the Christian Maronites of Lebanon and Damascus. Over a

hundred villages inhabited by these people were completely destroyed.

Neither the aged nor the young that fell into the hands of the enemy were

spared; and, worse than all, seven thousand young women were carried

captive into the desert. In these melancholy circumstances, Napoleon III.

acted honorably and independently. He sent an armed expedition to chastise

the guilty, and that in defiance of all opposition on the part of his

allies, the English, who, from national jealousy, resisted a French

protectorate in the East, and so assumed the disgraceful _role_ of

patronizing hordes of assassins. Incomprehensible conduct! since, a few

years later, the same people were so moved by Turkish atrocities in

Bulgaria that no British government could have dared to raise an arm in

defence of the crumbling Empire of the Sultan. Pius IX. was deeply moved

by the sufferings of his fellow-Christians. In a letter of 29th July, to

the Patriarch of Antioch and the Bishops of his Patriarchate, he expressed

his sorrow and indignation at the fearful crimes that were committed. “It

is particularly afflicting,” said he, as he condemned certain speeches

that were delivered in the British Parliament in favor of the guilty

parties, “that more sympathy is accorded, and even more assistance

extended, in our age to the fomenters of troubles and revolutions than to

their victims.” He commended France, that had remembered in the

circumstances her Catholic traditions, and intimated that he would

encourage with all his power the liberal offerings of the Christians of

the West in support of their brethren of Syria. He himself, although he

was deprived of his accustomed revenue, together with the greater portion

of his states, contrived to bestow considerable assistance.

(M83) A little later in the same year, the Holy Father met with

unlooked-for consolation in the conversion of the Bulgarian nation. On the

20th December, bishops, priests, and a great many lay persons of that

country, abjured the Photian schism, and addressed to Rome a solemn act of

union in the name of the majority of their fellow-countrymen. Pius IX.

replied on the 29th of January, 1861. He was pleased himself to consecrate

in the Sistine chapel their new archbishop, Sokolski. The latter, as he

renewed the profession of faith, which had been already formulated in

writing at Constantinople, said to the Holy Father: “It is your work that,

although dead, we are come to life, and that, being lost, we are found

again.” Pius IX. referred all the glory to God. “Such works,” he said,

“are wholly divine. To Thee praise, benediction, everlasting thanks! O,

Jesus Christ! source of mercy and of all consolation!” The Bulgarians were

unfortunately situated. Jealousies of race prevailed among them, and did

much to shake religious principle. Add to this that the schismatical

Patriarch of Constantinople agreed to grant ecclesiastical autonomy, as it

might be called, to Bulgaria. This was a deadly blow to the noble impulse

which led them towards the centre of Christian unity. At first they were

three millions of Catholics. The number speedily diminished to some tens

of thousands. Archbishop Sokolski suddenly disappeared. It is not known

whether he abandoned his post or was carried away by force. The latter

supposition is, as yet, the more probable. He is thought to have been

recognized, several times, in a Russian monastery, whither he is supposed

to have been taken by surprise, and obliged to remain against his will.

Pius IX., understanding how necessary it was that the new flock should

have a resident pastor, appointed a provisional successor to Sokolski,

with the title of Administrator of the United Bulgarians, and labored

assiduously to found for him churches and schools. Three schismatical

Greek bishops, who had sought protection at Rome from the violent

proceedings of their patriarch, did not persevere any more than the

majority of the Bulgarians. A fourth, however, Melethios, Archbishop of

Drama, happily remained steadfast, together with the Protestant bishop of

Malta, another Protestant bishop, who was an American of the United

States, and several prelates of the Greek schism, Armenians, Chaldeans or

Copts. All these, about this time, placed themselves under the crook of

the Supreme Pastor.

(M84) Shortly before the death of Count de Cavour, the Emperor Napoleon

was pleased to define the new limits of the papal domain. In doing so, he

left the recently alienated provinces to Piedmont, and and confined the

Pontiff to a comparatively small territory around the city of Rome. He

could not have sanctioned more decidedly or more publicly the

unjustifiable spoliation of the Sardinian king. Such a proceeding cannot

but appear inconsistent to such as are aware only of his apparent quarrel

with this monarch, and the withdrawal of his ambassador from Turin. To

those, on the contrary, who have knowledge of, and consider his secret

conference with, the Piedmontese Envoys at Chambery, and the violent

attack on the Papal States, which, notwithstanding the public and official

protest of the French government through their consul at Ancona,

immediately followed, it will appear that Louis Napoleon Bonaparte,

Emperor of the French, was only acting up to his policy and character.

Soon after this new distribution of territory, the “Kingdom of Italy” was

officially recognized by the government of the French Emperor; and this

recognition paved the way for that of the other Powers, by most of whom,

after some time, it was reluctantly given.

(M85) Cavour was dead. But Sardinian ambition died not with him. Baron

Ricasoli, who succeeded him as Prime Minister, encouraged by the support

of France, which was no longer disguised, actually wrote, in the name of

his king, both to the Pope and Cardinal Antonelli, urging them to give up

the sovereignty of Rome. This was done, not, of course, from any ambitious

motive, but with a view to carrying out their great designs, such as the

regeneration of society, and, above all, their conception of a “free

church in a free state.” The minister concludes magniloquently: “It is in

your power, Holy Father, to renew, once more, the face of the earth. You

can raise the Apostolic See to a height unknown for ages. If you wish to

be greater than earthly sovereigns, cast away from you the wretched

kingship which brings you down to their level. Italy will bestow upon you

a firm seat, entire liberty, and new greatness. She reveres in you the

Pontiff; but she will not stop in her progress for the Prince. She intends

to remain Catholic; but she purposes to be a free and independent nation.

If you will only hearken to the prayers of that daughter whom you love so

dearly, you will gain over souls more power than you can lose as a prince,

and from the Vatican, as you lift your hand to bless Rome and the world,

you will behold the nations, restored to their rights, bow down before

you, their defender and protector.” The new minister, less wary than his

predecessor, immediately set about realizing his grand idea. With what

success will soon be seen.

(M86) The Piedmontese conquests had not been made without cost. Enormous

sums had been spent in corrupting the Neapolitan people. Large amounts

were still scattered throughout the annexed provinces, in order to

maintain their loyalty to the new power; and the press was liberally

subsidized, both in Italy and abroad. For such heavy expenditure money

must be had. _Rem! quomodocunque modo rem!_ An expedient which occurs so

readily to revolutions was had recourse to. The properties of the convents

and the treasures of the churches were seized. Members of religious

communities were expelled from their monasteries and reduced to mendicity.

The laws of the church were trampled under foot, together with the rights

of citizens. The Jesuits were banished and cruelly maltreated like so many

felons. Religious corporations were suppressed, the faithful clergy were

thrown into prison, and many dioceses and parishes deprived of their

pastors. Pius IX. deplored these calamities in his Allocution of 30th

November, 1861. In that of 18th March of the same year, he had replied to

those who conjured him to be reconciled with modern civilization: “The

Holy See,” the Pontiff insisted, “is always consistent. It has never

ceased to promote and sustain civilization. History bears witness to this

fact. It shows most eloquently that, in every age, the Popes carried

civilization into barbarous nations, and even to the remotest lands. But

is that true civilization which enslaves the church, makes no account of

treaties, and recognizes not the rights of weaker parties? It is quite

certain that the church can never come to an understanding with such

civilization. What is there in common, says the apostle, between Christ

and Belial? As to making friendship with the usurpers of our provinces,

before they have shown repentance, let no such thing be hoped for. To make

such a proposition to us, is to ask this see, which has always been the

rampart of justice and truth, to sanction the principle that a stolen

object can be possessed in peace by the thief, and that injustice which

succeeds is justified by success. We loudly declare, therefore, before God

and men, that there is no reason why we should be reconciled with any one.

Our only duty, in this connection, is to forgive our enemies, and to pray

for them, in order that they may be converted. This we do in all

sincerity. But when we are asked to do what is unjust, we cannot give our

consent: _Præstare non possumus_.”

A little later, January, 1862, Cardinal Antonelli replied in the name of

Pius IX. to the Marquis de Lavallette, the French Ambassador at Rome,

showing that it was by no means true to say that the Pope was at variance

with Italy. “An Italian himself, and the chief Italian, he suffers when

Italy suffers, and he beholds with pain the severe trials to which the

Italian church is subjected. As to arranging with those who have robbed

us, we never will do any such thing. All transaction on this ground is

impossible. By whatever reservations it might be accompanied, with

whatever ingenuity of language it might be disguised, we could not accept,

without appearing to consecrate the wrong. The Sovereign Pontiff, before

his exaltation, as well as the cardinals before their nomination, bind

themselves by oath to cede no portion of the territory of the church. The

Holy Father, therefore, will not make any concession of this kind. Neither

a Conclave, nor a new Pontiff, nor his successors in any age, would be

entitled to make such concession.”

The revolutionists, however, could help themselves. It would not be

difficult to imagine the people of Italy, a few generations hence, if,

indeed, the kingdom of Italy be destined to last so long, looking back to

their founders with that same kind of pride which animated the great

Romans when they thought of Romulus and Remus, and the band of brigands

who helped them to found the city.

(M87) About this time the French parliamentary chambers began to enjoy, to

a certain extent, liberty of speech. They could now discuss an address to

the sovereign, and give full publicity to their debates. Inquiry could now

be made to some purpose, whether the Italian policy of Napoleon III. was

sanctioned by France, whether that aberration were national which impelled

to the violation of all right and law, in order to unify Italy, and pave

the way, at the same time, for the unification of Germany. The

revolutionary left of the French parliament, as a matter of course,

favored the Emperor’s revolutionary foreign policy. But the liberty of

debate showed that there was a powerful minority opposed to them, and this

minority enjoyed the sanction of the greatest statesmen of the age. In the

Senate, notwithstanding the absence of every member of the Legitimist

party, as well as that of Messrs. de Montalembert and de Fallou, whom a

coalition of the despotism of the day with radicalism had caused to lose

their seats, a tolerable number of the most devoted partisans of the

empire showed a boldness of language, together with well-defined

statesmanlike views, to which the Imperial _regime_ was not accustomed.

Several of the ablest orators concurred in presenting an amendment to the

address to the throne in favor of the Pope’s temporal sovereignty. It was,

of course, opposed by the government, but was supported, nevertheless, by

sixty votes to seventy-nine. In the legislative assembly, notwithstanding

all the ability displayed by the representatives of the government, the

Emperor’s Italian policy could obtain the support of only 161 votes,

whilst it was condemned by the powerful minority of ninety-one. The

radical leaders of the majority now thought the time opportune for

demanding the recall of the French troops from Rome. The government went

dead against it, and invited the deputies to join with it in condemning

the inordinate and persistent ambition of the revolution. This the

assembly did by a solid vote of the whole house to five. Of this precious

quintet, Jules Favre and Emile Olivier, the leaders of the government,

were two.

Such national demonstrations in favor of the sovereignty which he had done

his best to crush were very irritating to the Emperor Napoleon; and

although he endeavored to appear wholly absorbed by his life of Cæsar, he

could not avoid showing by his acts how profoundly he was disturbed by

being thwarted. Everywhere throughout France the Catholics were made to

suffer. The clergy were persecuted as far as the laws of the country would

allow, and the Imperial anger went so far as to wreak its vengeance on the

poor by suppressing that benevolent and non-political institution, the

Association of St. Vincent de Paul. Needless to say that, at the same

time, the Catholic press was held in fetters. There was no relaxation in

its favor till the year 1867, when the law extending the liberty of the

press became available to Catholic as well as all other writers. The

Emperor even sacrificed the best supporters of the Imperial system on

account of their dislike to his anti-Roman policy. Not only from such men

did warnings come, but also from eminent statesmen of former _regimes_,

such as Messrs. Sauzet, de Broglie, Vitet, and even M. Guizot, who was a

Protestant, together with Messrs. Thiers, Cousin and Dufaure, who were

only nominal Catholics. “Madame,” said M. Thiers, one day, to the Empress,

with more truth than _politesse_, “history lays down the law that

_quiconque mange du Pape en creve_.”(6)

So many and such decided manifestations of public opinion were not without

their effects. No less a personage than Garibaldi, relying, as he thought

he could do, on Piedmontese support, now undertook to realize to the full

the revolutionary programme—the Kingdom of Italy, with Rome for its

capital. The King of Piedmont, whilst he publicly disowned the filibuster,

as he had affected to disown him in Sicily, held an army in reserve for

his support. He expected himself to be officially condemned, whilst in

reality, as usual, privately sustained.

(M88) In the meantime, however, the policy of his Imperial patron was

considerably modified; and orders were despatched to his Sardinian

Majesty, which he could neither take as a blind nor dare to disregard. So

the Piedmontese army, which was intended to aid the filibusters in the

sack of Rome, was obliged to fight them. It came up with the bands of

Garibaldi, at a place called Aspromonte, on the 29th of August, 1862. The

irregular force was defeated, its leader wounded in the heel and taken

prisoner. Garibaldi being so renowned a warrior—Achilles was nothing to

him—was immediately released. Napoleon had spoken sincerely at last. If he

had always done so there would have been less disorder, less violation of

all right and less bloodshed, in bringing together the provinces and

states of Italy. If it had been his policy to concur with the Pope and the

party of true reform, instead of patronizing a filibustering prince, he

might have lived to see a less objectionable and more lasting unification

of Italy than that which he so powerfully aided in achieving.

The intriguing Cabinet of Turin took great credit to itself for having so

vigorously acted, although against its will, in preventing Garibaldi from

seizing Rome. As a reward for this signal service, it boldly proposed to

go there itself. But the time had not yet come. The fall of Rome was

destined to occur simultaneously with another event, in which the Emperor

Napoleon was directly and personally interested. To do him justice, he was

from this time anxious that matters should be settled advantageously to

the Holy See, but without prejudice to the revolution. The idea was

chimerical. But that is no reason for supposing that it was not sincerely

entertained.

(M89) The venerable Pontiff derived some comfort from the resolve of the

French nation, in which all parties, as has been seen, concurred, and the

determination of its Imperial head to check the career of revolution, and

leave Rome to its legitimate sovereign. But meanwhile more abundant

consolations in the spiritual order were showered upon him. In the course

of the great struggle in which there was now, at length, a pause, he was

practically abandoned, even by the most friendly nations. It now fell to

his lot to fulfil a high duty incident to the Pontifical office, and the

nations, through their numerous representatives, flocked around him. No

earthly prince was ever so sustained by the sympathies of mankind. The

time had now arrived, all research and investigation having come to a

close, when those heroes of the Christian faith who, in the year 1597, had

suffered martyrdom at the hands of the Japanese, should be solemnly

canonized. They were twenty-six in number. One of these was an American,

and suffered at Nagasaki in the year just mentioned. Another process of

canonization had also been concluded—that of the blessed Michael de

Sanctis, a Trinitarian, and member of the order for the Redemption of

Captives. Pius IX. had invited the bishops to attend the important

ceremony. The Sardinian government, which took credit to itself for having

established a “free church in a free state,” forbade the Italian bishops

to visit Rome on this occasion. No fewer than ninety bishops protested

against this mockery of liberty, and declared that nothing but the strong

hand of power could have prevented them from repairing to the holy city.

Notwithstanding the forced absence of so many bishops, there were at Rome

three hundred and twenty-three cardinals, patriarchs, archbishops and

bishops, more than four thousand priests, and one hundred thousand

strangers of various nations and classes. Humble curates of the Alpine

regions, who were too poor to undertake the journey, subscribed in order

to send a few of their number in the name of the rest. Numerous ships

which were, for the time, as floating convents, sailed from the ports of

France, Spain and Italy, invoking Mary the Star of the Sea—_Ave Maris

Stella_—whilst masses of people responded from the shore; the hearts of

all were with them. There was high festival at Rome from Ascension Day to

Whitsuntide. All thoughts of politics were dismissed; the grand religious

celebration absorbing all attention. As often as Pius IX. appeared in

public, he was honored with an ovation. On one occasion, in particular,

there was a great demonstration by the clergy and the artillerymen of the

French army, on the day before Pentecost Sunday. The Bishop of Tulle, Mgr.

Berteaud, Mgr. Dupanloup of Orleans, and other bishops, addressed immense

crowds, and produced religious emotion in which unbelievers could not help

participating. It is not recorded that Pius IX. had preached in public

since the beginning of his Pontificate. He now, on the 6th of June,

delivered the word of God in the Sistine Chapel, speaking first in Latin

and afterwards in French. His audience consisted of four thousand priests,

as many as could be assembled within the spacious edifice. All were deeply

moved, and only refrained through reverence from giving vent to their

feelings. As soon as the Holy Father had announced the apostolic

benediction, one of the priests happily intoned the liturgical prayer:

“_Oremus pro Pontifice nostro Pio_.” “Let us pray for our Pontiff Pius.”

All present, as if with one voice, responded: “The Lord preserve him and

give him life, and make him blessed upon earth, and deliver him not to the

will of his enemies.” One may have some idea how the Catholic mind was

impressed, from the words of M. Louis Veuillot: “We traversed our beloved

Rome with filial affection. And if the thought occurred to us that there

existed a design to rob us of it, our feeling was one of anger rather than

of fear. We passed from sanctuary to sanctuary, inquiring as to the places

where Pius IX. would appear, in order to pay profoundest reverence to the

Holy Pontiff. ‘No, no,’ exclaimed a bishop, as he came from the presence

of the Holy Father, ‘it is not true, it is not possible! Do not believe

that there are Victor Emmanuels, Garibaldis, Ratazzis! Such a man cannot

have enemies!’ ”

On Pentecost Sunday, June 8th, 1862, it was known that the Basilica of St.

Peter would be open at five o’clock in the morning. All night the

neighboring streets were crowded, and when the gates were thrown open that

greatest of earth’s temples was filled in a few minutes. The Pontifical

troops were on guard inside. The foreign ambassadors, the royal family of

Naples, and other distinguished persons filled the tribunes; and the

French infantry was massed on St. Peter’s place. The church was

appropriately decorated with paintings representing scenes in the lives of

the martyrs and illustrious confessors. The thousands of lights which

shone around added splendor to the scene. At seven o’clock the great

procession began to move. First came a troop of orphans, then appeared the

students of the ecclesiastical seminaries. These were followed by

religious communities and the secular clergy. Bishops came next, and

archbishops, patriarchs and cardinals. Then appeared the Supreme Pastor,

preceded by the banners of the saints that were to be canonized. All

besides was now forgot, as the Holy Father was borne slowly along, seated

on the _sedia gestatoria_, which was carried by twelve attendants in

scarlet cloaks. The Tiara added dignity to the noble figure of the

Pontiff. In his left hand, which was veiled with white silk, embroidered

with gold, he held a lighted wax taper, while his right was left free to

bless the people as he passed along. The correspondent of the London

_Times_, who was a Protestant, says: “Looking over the sea of heads placed

between me and the procession, I observed that all knelt before Pius IX.,

the meek and the good, for it is only justice so to speak of him. The

chanters of the Vatican chanted in angelic tones: _Tu es Petrus_, and

these tones, softened rather than weakened by distance, pervaded the whole

edifice like spirits. At intervals, another group chanted: _Ave Maris

Stella_, and thus the Pope was borne, through the thousands of Christians

who had come from every country on which the sun shines, to the high altar

behind the tomb of the apostles.”

In the midst of so much pomp and glory, Pius IX. was humble and collected,

referring all to Him of whom he was only the representative on earth. At

the same time, his soul overflowed with happiness when he saw that there

was still so much faith in Israel. The Sovereign Pontiff now took his seat

upon the Papal throne, and having received the obedience of the cardinals

and bishops, he was approached by the consistorial advocate, who thrice

petitioned him to permit the names of the glorious martyrs and confessors

to be inscribed on the diptychs of the saints, which the church recognizes

and holds sacred. After the request had been made the third time, the Holy

Father read in a clear and audible voice the decree of canonization. He

then intoned the _Te Deum_, which was chanted by the immense congregation.

The ceremonies concluded with a solemn High Mass, which was celebrated by

the Pope himself, surrounded by the cardinals and bishops. The people

spent the remainder of the day in pious rejoicing. They were gay and

expansive, but calm and brotherly; thus exhibiting, without being

conscious of it, a spectacle unknown to the inhabitants of other capitals.

(M90) The demonstrations which took place at Rome on the following day

were not less important, and perhaps had greater significance, although

not accompanied by so much pomp and ceremony. There was held in the Palace

of the Vatican a semi-public consistory, at which all the bishops who were

at Rome attended. The venerable Pontiff denounced, in his allocution to

the attentive audience, those errors which are too ancient to have even

the merit of originality, but which are the more dangerous that, at the

present time more than ever, they are loudly preached and widely

disseminated. He alluded in particular to that German criticism, which

views our sacred books as nothing better than a system of mythology, and

to that too well-known romance of a French writer, M. Renan, entitled:

“The Life of Jesus.” He condemned materialism, pantheism, naturalism, and

all those more or less degrading systems which deny human liberty,

proclaim a morality independent of the laws of God; which derive from

material force and superior numbers all law and authority: and which in

philosophy make reason their God, the state in politics, and passion in

the daily conduct of life. The Holy Father then thanked the bishops who

were present, regretting the absence of those of Portugal and Italy, the

latter of whom were restrained by the Piedmontese government, and exhorted

them all to continue to combat error, and to turn away the eyes and hands

of the faithful from bad books and bad journals, and to promote, without

ever wearying, the instruction of the clergy and the good education of

youth. He concluded, in a voice which was impeded by his tears, and with

his eyes raised to heaven, by joining with all present in beseeching the

Father of mercies, through the merits of Jesus Christ, His only Son, to

extend a helping hand to Christian and civil society, and to restore peace

to the church.

Cardinal Mattei, dean of the Sacred College, replied in the name of all

the bishops. Three points chiefly, among others, were affirmed in his

declaration. First of all, the supreme doctrinal authority and

infallibility of the Roman Pontiff. “You are in our regard the master of

sound doctrine. You are the centre of unity. You are the foundation of the

church itself, against which the gates of hell shall not prevail. When you

speak, we hear Peter. When you decree, we obey Jesus Christ. We admire you

in the midst of so many trials and tempests, with a serene brow and

unshaken mind, invincibly fulfilling your sacred ministry.” Next, the

temporal sovereignty of the Holy See. “We acknowledge that your temporal

sovereignty is necessary, and that it was established in fulfilment of a

manifest design of Divine Providence. We hesitate not to declare that this

temporal sovereignty is required for the good of the church and the free

government of souls. It was necessary that the Supreme Pontiff should be

neither the subject nor even the guest of any prince. There was required

in the centre of Europe a sacred bond, placed between the three continents

of the ancient world, an august seat, whence arises in turns, for peoples

and for princes, a great and powerful voice, the voice of justice and of

truth, impartial and without preference, free from all arbitrary

influence, and which can neither be repressed by fear nor circumvented by

artifice. How could it have been that at this very moment the prelates of

the church, arriving from all points of the universe, should have come

here in order to represent all peoples, and confer in security on the

gravest interests, if they had found any prince whomsoever ruling in this

land who had suspicions of their princes, or who was suspected by them on

account of his hostility? In such case their duties as citizens might have

conflicted with their duties as bishops.” Finally, the intimate union of

the Catholic world with the Pope. “We condemn the errors which you have

condemned. We reprove the sacrilegious acts, the violations of

ecclesiastical immunity, and the other crimes committed against the chair

of Peter. We give utterance to this protest, which we claim shall be

inserted in the annals of the church, in all sincerity, in the name of our

brethren who are absent, in the name of those who, detained at home by

force, lament and are silent, in the name of those whom the state of their

health or important affairs have prevented from joining us in this place.

To our number we add the clergy and the faithful people who give you proof

of their love and veneration by their assiduous prayers, as well as by the

offering of Peter’s pence. Would to God that all kings and powerful men in

the world understood that the cause of the Pontiff is the cause of all

states. Would to God that they came to an understanding in order to place

in security the sacred cause of the Christian world and of social order.”

Pius IX. made reply: “United as we are, venerable brethren, we cannot

doubt that the God of peace and charity is with us. And if God be with us,

who shall be against us? Praise, honor, glory to God! To you, peace,

salvation and joy! Peace to your minds; salvation to the faithful

committed to your care; joy to you and to them, in order that you may all

rejoice, chaunting a new canticle in the House of God for evermore!”

The address which Cardinal Mattei read bore the signatures of all the

bishops who were in Rome. The bishops of Italy hastened to express their

concurrence, with one exception, Ariano, who had participated in the

revolutionary movement, and who came to an unhappy death within the year.

There came, in due course, numerous adhesions from all parts of the world,

together with countless addresses from the clergy of the second order. The

laity, on their part, received the bishops on their return home with

triumphal honors. They came around them and escorted them to the pulpits

of their cathedrals, in order to hear from their lips all that had taken

place at Rome. The Bishop of Moulins, Mgr. de Droux Breze, admirably

expressed in a few words the impressions of the venerable pilgrims: “Rome

is a city of wonders; but the wonder of Rome is Pius IX.”

The moral result of all these manifestations was incalculable. At a time

when universal suffrage had come into vogue, it was impossible not to see

in all this, from a merely wordly point of view, indirect, indeed, but

strikingly universal suffrage. The vote of the whole Catholic world was

shown, united with that of the Romans, in affirming the rights of the

Catholic world over Rome, whilst appeared, at the same time, the

determination of the Romans to retain their cherished autonomy, and to

remain the capital of the Catholic world. The parliament of Turin was

greatly agitated. There was indescribable confusion, so that discussion

was impossible. They voted, in opposition to the Episcopal and Pontifical

allocutions, an address to Victor Emmanuel, the character of which may be

gathered from the following few words: “Sire, bishops, almost all

strangers in Italy, have proclaimed the strange doctrine that Rome is the

slave of the Catholic world. We reply to them by declaring that we are

resolved, to maintain inviolable the right of the nation and that of the

Italian metropolis, which is, at present, retained by force under a

detested yoke.” It was of a piece with many other assertions of the

revolutionary party that the Romans detested the rule of the Holy Father.

It was particularly audacious to make such an assertion in face of the

enthusiastic demonstrations which had just been made in the city of the

Popes. They had forbidden the presence of the Italian bishops at Rome, and

nevertheless they dared to complain that almost all the bishops who

gathered around the Sovereign Pontiff were strangers in Italy. But what

did this avail them? Did not the Italian bishops decidedly express

complete concurrence with their brethren?

It is still more surprising that the Emperor Napoleon took no warning from

the words of the Turin parliament, and went so far as to conclude an

agreement with them for the preservation to the Pope of the Holy City.

(M91) It is difficult to understand how a people numerically so weak as

the inhabitants of that portion of the once great kingdom of Poland, which

fell to the Russian Empire at the time of the unfortunate partition, could

have undertaken a rebellion against so great a Power as Russia. But

provocation, patriotism, the sense of nationality, together with the

ardent love of liberty, set the laws of prudence at defiance. That

provocation must have been of no ordinary kind which could excite, in

Russian Poland, a third rebellion, which had no better prospect of success

than the two former, which resulted so disastrously for the unhappy Poles.

And, indeed, what could be worse or more calculated to cause insurrection

than the cruelties, crimes and sacrilegious acts which the Russian

government was guilty of throughout Poland in the years 1861 and 1862? The

churches of that ill-fated country were seized and profaned, divine

service interdicted, and the bishops arraigned before courts-martial and

cast into prison. Such atrocities, instead of crushing, only increased the

patriotism of the people. Russian policy, baffled as was to be expected,

in its design of establishing tranquillity by such barbarous proceedings,

had recourse to a rigid conscription intended to have the effect of

forcing all the patriotic youth of the country into the ranks of the

Russian army. This violent recruiting was first attempted at Warsaw, at

dead of night, on the 15th of January, 1863. When the news of this

violence spread throughout the country, all the young men capable of

bearing arms fled to the steppes and forests, and, in eight days, all

Poland was in rebellion for the third time, in order to break the yoke of

the foreigner. A word from the great Powers, or any one of them, would

have restored peace. But they all alike refused to speak this word. The

British, after having encouraged the Poles to resistance in public

speeches, were on the point of intervening in their behalf, when a hint

from M. de Bismark suddenly cooled their zeal, and determined Lord John

Russell to recall by telegraph threatening despatches which were already

on their way to St. Petersburgh. It need scarcely be said that Prussia,

which was an accomplice of Russia in the iniquitous partition, made common

cause with Russia in the work of repression. Austria was at the time

paralyzed, as Italy was threatening Venice. Italy simply expressed to

Prince Gortschakoff, the Russian Chancellor, “its confidence that the

Emperor Alexander would persevere in the reforms so unfortunately

interrupted by the rebellion.” Innocent Italians! They, of course, were

not guilty of causing rebellion, which was now, in their estimation, so

deplorable in Sicily, Naples, the Grand Duchies, &c. Napoleon remained, as

was his wont, undecided. He would neither assist the Poles nor give them

to understand that he would not assist them. A word from him would have

shortened, by eighteen months, a hopeless struggle of two years, which

ended by exhausting them.

There was one, however, who protested. Pius IX. denounced the oppressor as

fearlessly as if he had been the least of the princes of the earth. He

wrote to him, at first, in a tone of mild remonstrance, on the 22d of

April, 1863. But finding that his representations were not heeded, he

renewed them more pressingly. He did not confine himself to merely

official acts. He sent Cardinal Reisach on a confidential mission to

Vienna, and addressed a warm and feeling letter to the Emperor Francis

Joseph, in order to induce him to take action energetically in common with

France. He invited the whole Christian world to join with him in praying

for the suffering nation which he nobly declared to be “the soldier of

civilization and of faith.” Such as were at Rome, at the time of these

prayers, will never forget how enthusiastically the Roman people responded

to the call of Pius IX. In praying for the defenders of a distant country,

they seemed to pray, at the same time, for their own, which was now, more

than ever, threatened. But the time of mercy had not yet come, and

persecution was redoubled. Ecclesiastics were deported or put to death,

simply for not having refused the aid of religion to the dying on the

field of battle. Families and whole populations were doomed to choose

between exile and apostacy. All the bishops, without exception, were

driven from their dioceses, and some of them perished on the way to

Siberia. Pius IX. could no longer contain his grief and indignation. On

the 27th of April, 1864, in replying to the postulators in the cause of

blessed Francis of the five wounds, he said: “The blood of the helpless

and the innocent cries for vengeance to the throne of the Almighty against

those by whom it is shed. Unhappy Poland! It was my desire not to speak

before the approaching consistory. But I fear lest, by being silent any

longer, I should draw down upon myself the punishment denounced by the

prophets against those who tolerate iniquity. No, I would not that I were

forced to cry out, one day, in presence of the Sovereign Judge: ‘Woe to me

because I have held my peace!’ (_Va mihi quia tacui._) I feel inspired at

this moment to condemn a sovereign whose vast Empire reaches to the Pole.

This potentate, who falsely calls himself the Catholic of the East, but

who is only a schismatic cast forth from the bosom of the true church,

persecutes and slays his Catholic subjects, and by his ferocious cruelty

has driven them to insurrection. Under the pretext of suppressing this

insurrection, he extirpates the Catholic religion. He deports whole

populations to inhospitable climes, where they are deprived of all

religious assistance, and replaces them by schismatical adventurers. He

tears the pastors from their flocks, and drives them into exile, or

condemns them to forced labors and other degrading punishments. Happy they

who have been able to escape, and who now wander in strange lands! This

potentate, all heterodox and schismatical as he is, arrogates to himself a

power which the Vicar of Christ possesses not. He pretends to deprive a

bishop whom we have rightfully instituted. Can he be ignorant that a

Catholic bishop is always the same, whether in his see or in the

catacombs, and that his character is ineffaceable? Let it not be said that

in raising our voice against such misdeeds we encourage the European

revolution. We can distinguish between the socialist revolution and the

legitimate rights of a nation struggling for independence and its

religion. In stigmatizing the persecutors of the Catholic religion, we

fulfil a duty laid on us by our conscience. It behooves us to pray, with

renewed earnestness, for that unfortunate country. In consequence, we

impart our apostolic benediction to all who shall, this day, pray for

Poland. Let us all pray for Poland!” It was as if the breath of God’s

anger were on the lips of the Holy Pontiff. Pius IX., remarks M. de St.

Albin, swayed by his deep emotion, had risen from his throne, his voice

was like thunder, and his arm appeared to threaten as if possessed of

omnipotence.

(M92) Such apostolic courage commanded the admiration of the enemies of

the Papacy. The deputy, Brofferio, said in the parliament of Turin, whilst

his colleagues, revolutionists like himself, applauded: “An old man,

exhausted, sickly, without resources, without an army, on the brink of the

grave, curses a potentate who slaughters a people; I feel moved in my

inmost soul; I imagine myself borne back to the days of Gregory VII.; I

reverence and applaud.”

(M93) M. Meyendorf, the _charge d’affaires_ of Russia, having been

admitted to a private audience on occasion of the Christmas festivities of

1866, Pius IX. naturally directed the conversation to the painful state of

ecclesiastical affairs in Poland. The Russian minister denied everything,

even the most notorious facts, and ended by casting all the blame on the

Catholics, who, he affirmed, had openly transacted with the Polish

insurrection, whilst the Protestants generally sided with the government.

“Nor was this astonishing,” he added, “considering that Catholicism and

revolution are the same thing.” Pius IX. could not tolerate this false

assertion, which was so absurd that it could have no other object than to

insult him and the whole body of the faithful of whom he was the Chief.

“Depart,” said he to the minister, as he dismissed him, “I cannot but

believe that your Emperor is ignorant of the greater part of the injustice

under which Poland suffers. I, therefore, honor and esteem your Emperor;

but I cannot say as much of his representative who comes to insult me in

my own house.” Pius IX. vainly hoped that the Envoy would be disowned, and

diplomatic relations between Rome and St. Petersburgh continued. When

Alexander II. suppressed, by his own authority, in 1867, the Catholic

diocese of Kaminieck, Pius IX. was obliged to have recourse to the

newspaper press, in order to make known to the Catholics of that

unfortunate country that he appointed the Bishop of Zitomir provisional

administrator. “I have no other means of communicating with them,” said he

“I act like the captain of a vessel who encloses in a bottle his last

words to his family, and confides them to the storm, hoping that the waves

will deposit them on some shore where they will be gathered up.”

(M94) Pius IX. showed himself as generous to princes as to peoples, acting

always as the champion of justice in the cause of the former, as well as

in supporting the undoubted rights of the latter. Francis II., of Naples,

dethroned by his ambitious cousin, King Victor Emmanuel, was, as the

Bonapartes had once been, an exile at Rome, and enjoyed the same princely

hospitality which his predecessor, in 1848, had extended to the Holy

Father in the Kingdom of Naples. Victor Emmanuel remonstrated against this

kindness to a fallen enemy. But in vain! He was powerless. His ally and

patron, however, the French Emperor, was not so easily resisted. This

potentate gave it to be understood, although not in express terms, that

the stay of the French troops at Rome was dependent on the departure of

the exiled monarch. The Pope, alluding to the family of Napoleon I., whom

Pius VII. had kindly received at Rome, replied, satirically, that the

Roman Pontiffs had traditions of hospitality, as regarded their

persecutors, and much more in favor of their benefactors. Napoleon was

ashamed to persist; and Francis II. remained at Rome as long as Pius IX.

was master there.

(M95) It was quite natural that Napoleon III. should entertain the idea

that he was born to found empires. He had succeeded in establishing one on

the ruins of a republic in the Old World. He now sought to build up

Imperial power side by side with a republic in the New. Mexico was

designed to be the seat of this empire; and, as that country greatly

needed government of some kind, the time was deemed opportune for carrying

into effect Napoleon’s idea. The Imperial dignity was offered to the

Archduke Maximilian of Austria; and this prince, relying on the support of

France, consented to ascend the throne of the Montezumas. Before crossing

the seas, Prince Maximilian came, together with his wife, the Princess

Charlotte of Belgium, to Rome, in order to beg the prayers, the wise

counsel and the apostolic benediction of the venerable Pontiff. So desired

the new Emperor to inaugurate a reign which, it was hoped, would be great

and prosperous. The Holy Father, at the solemn moment of communion, spoke

to the Prince of Him by whom kings reign and the framers of laws decree

just things. In the name of this King of kings, he recommended to him the

Catholic nation of Mexico, reminding him, at the same time, that he was,

under God, the constituted protector of the rights of the people as well

as those of the church. The Emperor and his youthful spouse were moved to

tears; and Maximilian, on leaving Rome, declared that he departed under

the protection of God, and with the benediction of the Holy Pontiff. “I am

confident, therefore,” he added, “that I shall be able to fulfil my great

mission to Mexico.”

Unfortunately for him, however, liberalism, or, rather, ill-disguised

socialism, was enthroned, for the moment, in what was destined to be, for

a little while longer, the chief seat of European Power. It is not

difficult to imagine whence counsel proceeded, and the inexperienced

Emperor came to believe that Mexico might be governed as France was,

whilst its ruler thwarted the will of the great majority of her people. He

may not, indeed, have been free to reject the advice which swayed him. Be

this as it may, he most unwisely cast himself into the arms of the party

to whom monarchy and religion were alike hateful. He now framed a

Concordat which, whilst it could not be acceptable to his new friends, was

far from being such as the Pope could ratify. The revolutionary party had

gained the new Emperor.

(M96) The Holy Father, ever anxious to promote the well-being of the

church, sent a nuncio to Maximilian, in order to remind him of his

promises, and induce him to abolish the laws that had been enacted for the

purpose of oppressing the church, and completely to reorganize

ecclesiastical affairs with the full concurrence of the Holy See. The

letter borne by the nuncio required that the Catholic religion should

continue to be the stay and glory of the Mexican nation; that the bishops

should be entirely free in the exercise of their pastoral ministry; that

the religious orders should be restored and organized according to the

instructions and faculties imparted by the Sovereign Pontiff; that the

patrimony of the church and the rights connected therewith should be

guaranteed and protected; that none be allowed to disseminate false and

subversive doctrines; that public as well as private education be directed

and superintended by ecclesiastical authority; and, finally, that those

fetters be broken which had hitherto for some time held the church

dependent on the arbitrary will of the civil power. “If,” continued the

Holy Father, “the religious edifice be re-established, as we doubt not it

will, on such foundations, your Majesty will satisfy one of the greatest

wants and realize the most ardent aspirations of the religious people of

Mexico; you will dispel our disquietude and that of the illustrious

Mexican Episcopate; you will pave the way for the education of a learned

and zealous clergy, as well as the moral reformation of the people. You

will thus, also, consolidate your throne, and promote the prosperity and

glory of your Imperial family.” In all this the Emperor would have been

sustained by the great majority of the Mexican people. And there was

nothing impossible required of him. It is not shown anywhere that the

restoration of church properties, which had been long alienated and had

often changed proprietors, would have been exacted, any more than in

England, when religion was restored under the reign of Mary. The policy

indicated by Pius IX. would have won for Maximilian a host of friends and

supporters. The line of conduct which he pursued was most unacceptable to

the Catholic nation of Mexico, whilst it was not in the least calculated

to satisfy the revolutionary party. Refusing to concede everything that

the church required, he wished to retain for himself the ancient regal

privileges of the Crown of Spain—the investiture of bishops, the

regulating of ecclesiastical tariffs, the limitation of the number of

monastic orders and religious associations, &c. So far the revolution was

pleased. It was loud in its applause. With what sincerity events failed

not to show. Pius IX. insisted on the Emperor’s solemn pledges so recently

given at Rome. Maximilian was deaf to the counsels, the complaints, the

earnest prayers of the Holy Father. So it remained only for the Papal

Nuncio, Monsignor Meglia, to take his departure from Vera Cruz (1st June,

1865). Meanwhile, Maximilian’s chief support, the French Emperor, dreading

the formidable hostility of the United States of America, which could not

tolerate an empire on the borders of their great republic, was obliged to

withdraw from Mexico the army which, from the first, was necessary to

sustain the new empire. Napoleon, one would say, was pledged to

Maximilian, having induced him to assume the Imperial Crown, and having

also promised all necessary support. He could not, however, command

success; and chivalry, even if it had still existed, would have availed

but little, when power alone could win.

Maximilian was now all alone, face to face with anarchy and the Mexican

nation which he had slighted. Faction ruled in his place. The

revolutionary party which he had favored proved untrue; and falling into

the hands of his enemies, he was solemnly murdered by the ruling brigand

of the day. The officers of Napoleon’s army sincerely believed that no

better fate could be anticipated; for they earnestly advised him to

accompany them on their return to Europe. This he could have done without

dishonor. The idea of a Mexican empire was Napoleon’s, and he alone was

answerable for its success. On the part of Maximilian it was more than

chivalry to remain in Mexico when his guard was gone. But the idea of the

youthful Prince in regard to honor appears to have been, like his policy,

unsound. The policy may not have been, most probably was not, his. But the

sentiment of honor was all his own. And although, in an age of chivalry

even, it would have appeared exaggerated, it redounds to his credit. It is

not surprising that a man animated by such noble sentiments should have

died as became a hero and a Christian.

(M97) The potentate, on whom, as far as worldly power was concerned,

depended the Pope’s temporal sovereignty, was throwing himself every day

more and more into the hands of the enemies of the church. His ministers,

more audacious than himself, carried their blind hatred of “Clericalism”

to such an extent as to sacrifice many of the best supporters of the

empire. This was singularly apparent at the general election of 1863. M.

de Persigny hesitated not to employ all the influence of the government

against such Imperialists as had voted for or shown themselves favorable

to the Pope’s temporal power. He succeeded in causing such friends of

Napoleon as De Caverville, Cochin and Lemercier to be replaced by the most

bitter enemies of the Imperial _regime_. He also managed to exclude from

parliament Messrs. de Montalembert, de Falloux and Keller. But Messrs.

Plichou, Berryer and Thiers, notwithstanding his hostile efforts, were

elected. This last-named statesman was himself a host, and his eloquent

speeches in support of the temporal sovereignty made all the more

impression that they were known to be dictated by far-seeing policy,

rather than any leaning towards religion. They deeply impressed the

parliament and the country; but availed not with Napoleon III., whom an

unprincipled ministry were leading blindfolded to destruction. Meanwhile,

the question of Rome entered on a new phase. The Cabinets of Turin and

Paris concluded an agreement in regard to the Roman State on 15th

September, 1864. The text of this notorious agreement was known to Europe,

whilst its meaning remained a mystery. The ministry of Napoleon III. made

it appear in France as a guarantee for the safety of the Pope. The

Piedmontese government flattered the revolutionary element of Italy, by

representing that it did not in the least change their programme, the

keynote of which was “Rome the Capital.” They were right. This proved to

be the true solution of the mystery. The first article provided that the

King of Piedmont should not attack, and he bound himself by oath not to

attack, the remaining territory of the Holy Father, to prevent by force,

if necessary, all aggression from any other quarter, and to pay the debts

of the former States of the Church. By the second clause France became

bound to withdraw her troops in two years. A protocol was added, by which

Victor Emmanuel engaged to transfer his capital from Turin to Florence in

six months. It was more than disrespectful to the Pope; it was of evil

omen, of sinister import, that the sovereign whose state was concerned was

not a party to the treaty—was not even consulted. The minds of all

Catholics were greatly disquieted, and their anxiety was only increased by

the Italian interpretation of the agreement. Pius IX., who understood well

by what men and by what principles the Cabinet of the Tuileries was

governed, made a remark which indicated more his fears for the great

French nation than for the fragment which remained to him of his

territory. He would have nothing to do with the pecuniary compensation

that was offered to him. He could only say that “he pitied France.” The

crime of that country was that her government made any agreement at all

with the monarch who had so unscrupulously violated the treaty of Zurich,

and who was, besides, the chief hero of Gaeta, Naples, Castelfidardo and

Ancona. One of the most eloquent of Bishop Dupanloup’s publications, the

one which, perhaps, has been the most generally read, exposes the

hollowness of this arrangement, which is known in history as the September

agreement.

(M98) The 8th of December, 1864, the tenth anniversary of the proclamation

of the dogma of the Immaculate Conception, was marked by the publication

of the Encyclical, “quanta cura,” and, together with it, the “Syllabus.”

This great doctrinal act was a crushing reply to the erroneous assertions

of the time, as well as to the vain ideas of those politicians who boasted

that, through their efforts, the spiritual office no less than the

temporal sovereignty of the Pope was drawing to a close. The Encyclical

letter is addressed to all bishops in communion with the Holy See, and

through them to all the faithful throughout the world. It contains the

teachings of Pius IX., and the Popes, his predecessors, in opposition to

the errors of the present age—the mistaken ideas of natural religion;

religious indifference which, falsely assuming the name of liberty of

conscience and of worship, establishes the reign of physical force in the

place of law and justice; communism and socialism; the subjection of the

church to the state; and the independence of Christians in regard to the

Holy See.

The “Syllabus” consists of eighty propositions, which are a summary of the

false teachings of the enemies of the Catholic church, as found in the

periodical press, as well as in their writings of a more permanent

character. The first seven propositions briefly express the errors on

pantheism, naturalism, and absolute rationalism. All who have any

Christian belief, to whatever denomination they may adhere, must surely

acknowledge the justice of denouncing philosophers of the school of

Strauss, who insist that Christ is a myth, and His religion a system of

mythology.

From the eighth to the fourteenth proposition inclusively, are pointed out

and condemned the errors of modern rationalism. From the fourteenth to the

eighteenth, indifferentism and latitudinarianism are exposed. Throughout

the rest of the catalogue, secret societies and communism are condemned;

erroneous views, as regards church and state, natural and Christian

ethics, and Christian marriage are expressed and denounced. Finally, are

pointed out the errors that have been uttered in regard to the temporal

power of the Pope, together with such as have reference to modern

liberalism.

These important documents, the Encyclical, “quanta cura,” and the

“Syllabus,” are not so much the work of Pius IX. as of all the Popes of a

century back, from the Council of Pistoia, Febronianism and Josephism.

Whilst the “Syllabus” was yet in embryo, it was, with the exception of a

few propositions which were not yet formulated, confidentially

communicated to the bishops on occasion of the canonization of the

Japanese martyrs. Each bishop was at that time invited to select two

theologians in order to examine the propositions, and give their opinion

in six months. The church, therefore, was not taken by surprise, when the

“Syllabus” appeared, however much its publication may have struck with

astonishment and alarm the party of revolution and unbelief. Catholics, at

least, could not fail to be swayed by such a masterly exposition of

Catholic theology on so many subjects, all intimately connected with human

conduct in private life as well as in affairs of public import. And there

were Catholics everywhere—among the rulers of the world and its leading

statesmen, no less than in all classes and grades of society. Such now

could have no excuse for favoring opinions which were so distinctly

condemned by that authority which they all recognized as the highest upon

earth. Nevertheless, whatever impression the clear teaching of the

“Syllabus,” in regard to the church and her rights, civil society, and

both natural and Christian morality, was destined, in time, to produce,

but little disposition was shown to be guided by it at the outset. There

was all but a universal clamor that the church had pronounced a divorce

between modern society and the spiritual order. Nor could it be otherwise,

so long as the former held principles which were essentially incompatible

with the latter. Neither could reconciliation be easily or speedily

brought about. The principles which religion condemned were in the

ascendant. The existing civil law of all European nations was founded on

them. There was no government that had not adopted them and shown itself

inclined to be entirely guided by them. The formal condemnation of the

cherished ideas of the age was as a thunderbolt hurled against the social

elements of the day. But why disturb their peace? They had no peace. They

were already discordant. “_Non esi pax impiis_.” Peace could not be born

of unbelief. It could come only through the truth, even as health conquers

disease by the most trying curative process. Napoleon III. was the first

who openly resisted the “encroachments” of Rome, just as if they had

constituted the only danger to his throne. By a decree dated 1st January,

1865, he forbade the publication of the Encyclical and the Syllabus,

whilst he caused to be tried and condemned, as guilty of abuse, the

Archbishop of Besançon and the Bishop of Moulins, because they had read

the Encyclical in their pulpits. The other prelates of France so far

submitted as to avoid printing the obnoxious documents, lest their

printers should be uselessly compromised. Several bishops declared that

the Encyclical was already sufficiently published in their dioceses by the

voice of the press. They thus expressed the idea of the whole episcopate.

Pius IX. highly commended their zeal. “We must go back,” he said, “to the

early ages of Christianity, in order to find an episcopal body that could

show such courage.”

To persons accustomed to theological studies, it is sufficiently apparent

why each proposition of the “Syllabus” stands condemned. To others, cause

is shown in the consistorial allocutions, Encyclical and other letters

apostolical of the Holy Father, in relation to each proposition. Some

things must be interpreted by the conduct of the Pope himself. For

instance, what is said in regard to the liberty of public worship and of

the press must be read in the light of that reasonable tolerance which the

Popes were accustomed to exercise when they ruled at Rome as sovereign

Princes. There is no liberty without some restraint. The press, in this

respect, is in the same position as individuals. According to the laws of

all civilized lands, when it abuses its liberty and commits crime, it is

visited with severe punishment. The greater liberty which the press

enjoys, and must enjoy, in the present circumstances of the world, by no

means clashes with the condemnation of proposition 79 of the “Syllabus.”

The press can no more be free to publish anything whatsoever, however

offensive it may be, than persons are free to perform such acts as

necessarily subject them, even in states where there is the greatest

attainable degree of liberty, to condemnation and punishment. If every

organized community possesses, as it certainly does possess, the right so

to stigmatize an offending citizen, and that without any violation of

liberty, it is equally entitled to judge and punish an offending press.

(M99) Not satisfied with the blow which so greatly weakened Austria in the

Italian campaign, Napoleon III. plotted with Prussia for a further

humbling of the great Catholic Power. To this end he held dark

consultations with Count Bismark, at Biarritz, as he had formerly done

with Count de Cavour at Plombieres. The former, however, proved to be more

than a match for him. Hence the great victory of Sadowa which paved the

way for Sedan. Prussia, without a rival in Germany, could freely pursue

her ambitious schemes. Napoleon, apparently suspecting nothing, left the

Rhine frontier comparatively unprotected; and Prussia, victorious in the

struggle with Austria, refused to France all compensation for her

complicity and encouragement. This hindered not Napoleon from taking part

in the treaty of Prague, as president, and sanctioning by his signature

the expulsion of Austria from Germany, and the confiscation of Hanover,

Nassau, the two Hesses and other small independent sovereignties, in the

interest of Prussia. This Power, besides, assumed the military direction

of Southern Germany, and so was, literally, doubled in extent and

population. Thus was swept away in the course of seven years, through the

agency of Napoleon III., the barrier of small states which the wisdom of

ages had placed along the continental frontier of France, from the

Mediterranean to the ocean, and which moderated the shocks of the greater

Powers. France, accordingly, by her own act, was confined between unified

Italy on the one hand, and on the other, the formidable German Empire.

In exchange for combinations which proved so disastrous, Venice was ceded

to Napoleon, and immediately made over by him to Italy. Defeated both by

sea and land in his struggle with Austria, Victor Emmanuel, nevertheless,

accepted the present, as if it had come to him by conquest, and Italy was

free to the Adriatic, and the celebrated Milan programme of 1859

completely carried out. This result, whilst it flattered the vanity of

Napoleon III., crowned the wishes of the secret societies. Protestants,

Jews, Freemasons, and people of all shades of unbelief, deputies of the

French left, and the revolutionary journals, all zealous in the service of

Prussia, enthusiastically applauded. The French Emperor’s ministers, even,

M. Rouher, in the Legislative Chamber, and M. de Lavalette, in a

diplomatic circular, were not ashamed to congratulate themselves publicly

on the stipulations of the treaty of Prague. In their mania for Italian

unity, these wise statesmen became blind to the interests of their own

country—condign punishment, surely, of their disloyal and unprincipled

policy.

(M100) Whilst the political world was extraordinarily agitated, and a

great potentate was endeavoring to destroy the last remnant of Papal

sovereignty, and was himself at the same time, hastening blindly but

surely to ignominy and ruin, the Pontiff against whom he warred calmly and

successfully continued to accomplish the sublime work of his spiritual

mission.

(M101) Nothing tends more to the instruction and edification of the

Catholic people than the canonization of saints and martyrs. But for the

care which the church bestows in bringing to light the acts and sufferings

of those heroes of the Christian faith, many of them, remaining unknown,

would be lost as examples to the rest of mankind. It is also due to the

saints themselves that the church should honor them, although, indeed,

earthly celebrity and true fame which lasts throughout all time is as

nothing compared to the glory which they enjoy. John Baptist de Rossi (de

Rubæs) was a canon of the Collegiate Basilica of Saint Mary, _in

cosmedin_. The venerable John Baptist de Rossi was in every respect a

worthy minister of God. He labored last century at Rome, in the vineyard

of the Lord, with so much, patience, longanimity and meekness, and was so

filled with the Holy Ghost and sincere charity, that he spent his whole

life in evangelizing the poor, to the great gain of souls. He instructed

others unto righteousness, and God willed that he should shine for

evermore as a star in the firmament. And not only was he crowned with

light in heaven, in order that, transformed to the Divine image, he should

appear in God’s presence environed with heavenly splendor; but God,

through His unspeakable bounty, appointed that His servant, enriched by an

abundant harvest of merits, illustrated by triumphal honors, and glorified

by miracles, should also enjoy upon earth a name glorious in the

estimation of mankind, and should thus be a new ornament to the church

militant. The process of canonization was commenced in the time of Gregory

XVI., and completed by Pius IX., when in March, 1859, the name of John

Baptist de Rossi was inscribed on the sacred diptychs.

(M102) John Sarcander was born at Skoczovia, in Upper Silesia, in the year

1577. He obeyed the call of God and joined the ranks of the priesthood.

When ordained priest, he showed himself in every way a pattern of

excellence—by his good works, his science, the integrity and gravity of

his character. He was appointed, accordingly, to the charge and guidance

of souls. He fulfilled so well all the duties of a good pastor that the

four parishes to which he was successively called by episcopal authority

received him as an angel sent to them from heaven, and bore witness by

their tears to their regret when they were deprived of his presence.

Meanwhile, the ministers of the sect of Pikardites were driven from the

parish of Holleschow, where the scourge of heresy, like the wild boar of

the forests, had spread devastation during eight years. John Sarcander was

selected in order to repair the incalculable evil that had been done to

that unfortunate vineyard. He shrunk not from the struggle which it

behooved him to maintain in the cause of the true faith. He was in every

sense an example to his flock. He exhorted, beseeched, reprimanded with

patience and wisdom, neglecting nothing that was calculated to strengthen

whatever was weak and heal what was sick, to reunite those who were

separated, to raise up the fallen and seek such as were astray. Such

exemplary conduct only excited the extreme hatred of the heretical party,

and he was obliged to leave Holleschow and retire to Poland. But moved by

the dangers to which were exposed the people whom he loved so dearly in

Christ, he returned to his parish, after having venerated the Holy Virgin

at her shrine of Crenstochow, in fulfilment of a vow which he had made.

Soon after his return the heretics cast him into prison as a traitor to

his country, but, in reality, on account of his zeal in preaching the

Catholic faith. He was subjected to vigorous interrogatories, and in order

to induce him to reveal what the supreme head of the administration in

Moravia had confided to him in confession, he was made to undergo the most

exquisite torture. Preferring a glorious death to a miserable life, he

combated to his last breath for the work of Christ, and gave up his soul

to God, leaving to all the people the remembrance of his death as an

example of fortitude and courage. Fearfully tortured on the rack for three

hours, burned slowly in almost every part of his body, by torches and

bundles of feathers steeped in rosin, oil, pitch and sulphur, he was

carried back almost lifeless to his prison. There he lingered a whole

month, suffering more than the pain of death, whilst his mind and heart

were so fixed on God that he ceased not to sing His praises as long as

life remained. He fell asleep in the Lord, the sixteenth of the calends of

April, 1620. It was not appointed that such heroic suffering should be

doomed to oblivion. Public report, the witness of contemporary writers,

the monuments of the time, and the splendor of miracles caused them to be

so celebrated that, notwithstanding the wars, losses and other impediments

which had prevented the Archbishops of Olmutz from considering this grand

and beautiful cause, and reporting it to the Holy See sooner than the 18th

century, the sanctity and martyrdom of the venerable John Sarcander were

not only known to the populations of Moravia and the neighboring

countries, but were also remembered with the most profound veneration.

From 1754 till the time of Pius IX., this celebrated cause was before the

church, and subjected to the usual searching investigation. Finally, in

February, 1859, it was concluded, and the blessed John Sarcander

recognized, as a saint and martyr, by the universal church.

(M103) This same year, 1859, was canonized the venerable servant of God,

Benedict Joseph Labre, of the diocese of Boulogne. Voluntary poverty was

the lot in life of this saint of modern times. Worldly wisdom condemns as

folly, the choice of this devoted Christian who preferred to all earthly

advantages the most abject poverty. God is, indeed, wonderful in His

saints; and as He often chooses what is folly in the estimation of the

world, in order to confound what it holds to be wise, so He appointed that

the humble Labre who, for the love of Christ, led a life of poverty, and

taught mankind the excellence of self-denial in an unbelieving and selfish

age, should be exalted, even upon earth, and ranked among the princes of

God’s people. In June, 1842, Gregory XVI. declared, by a solemn decree,

that Benedict Joseph Labre had practised, in a heroic degree, all the

Christian virtues. The necessary investigations and formalities were

continued, and in September, 1859, Pius IX. ordained that apostolic

letters should be issued, ordering the celebration of the solemn rite of

his beatification in the Patriarchal Basilica of the Vatican.

(M104) The year 1859 was also marked by the solicitude of Pius IX. for the

Church of Ireland. In a letter to the archbishops and bishops of that

country, he commends their zeal in promoting Catholic education, and

concurs with them in pointing out the dangers of mixed schools. In the

same letter the Holy Father earnestly entreats the venerable pastors of

the Irish Church to pray that the designs of the wicked may not succeed,

that it would please God to bring to naught the machinations of those

misguided men who, by their false teachings, endeavor to corrupt the

people everywhere, and to overthrow, if that were possible, the Catholic

religion. At the same time, it was appointed that the feast of Saint

Patrick, the Patron Saint of Ireland, should be celebrated according to a

higher rite.

(M105) The anti-President Juarez had succeeded in establishing himself at

Vera Cruz, whilst Miramon was recognized by Mexico, after General Zuloago,

as the successor of Santa Anna. Juarez was a revolutionist and persecutor

of the church; Miramon, a conservative and friend of religion. As proof of

the tyranny of the former, may be cited a decree which he published in

July of this year (1859). This decree, which aimed at nothing less than

the destruction of religion, and was, at the same time, a cruel outrage on

the Catholic nation of Mexico, accounts for the earnestness and

determination with which Pius IX., a little later, as has already been

shown, insisted that the Emperor Maximilian should adopt a policy friendly

to the church, and in harmony with the wishes of the great majority of the

Mexican people. Such policy, if only followed in time, would have so

strengthened the hands of Maximilian that, in all probability, he would

have been able to hold his ground when most unchivalrously abandoned by

his faint-hearted ally. No doubt the anti-president claimed that he was a

reformer of the church. And surely, indeed, he was, if it was reform to

suppress all religious societies whatsoever, to rob the clergy of their

property, and that so completely as to reduce them to mendicancy. But let

the decree speak for itself:

Art. 1. All property administered under divers titles, by the regular or

secular clergy, whether real or personal, whatever its name or object, is

henceforth the property of the nation.

Art. 3. There shall be complete independence between affairs of state and

such as are purely ecclesiastical. The government will confine itself to

protecting the public worship of the Catholic religion the same as any

other religion.

Art. 4. The ministers of religion can accept such offerings as may be made

on account of the administration of the sacraments and the other duties of

their office. They may also, by an agreement with those who employ them,

stipulate for remuneration for their services. But in no case can these

offerings or this remuneration be converted into permanent property.

Art. 5. All religious orders, whatever their name or their object, are

suppressed throughout the whole republic, as well as confraternities or

associations connected with a religious community or any church

whatsoever.

The 6th article, whilst it prohibits the erection of new convents and new

confraternities, forbids also the use of the religious habit.