In Wiesbaden, in 1821, a priest named Koch, with the permission of the

authorities, abandoned the priesthood and applied to the curé of the

place to marry him, when, meeting with a refusal, he had the ceremony

performed by a Protestant pastor, and was promptly excommunicated by

the Vicar of Ratisbon. Not deterred by this, in 1828 a hundred and

eighty priests of Baden petitioned the secular power for permission to

marry, and the Chamber of Deputies showed a disposition to grant the

request. This effort was imitated in 1831 by the Catholic clergy of

Silesia, but the movement was repressed by the Prussian government;

and in 1833, at Trèves, a clerical association was formed to carry

out the same object.[1580] These efforts brought forth from Gregory

XVI. an encyclical letter, in which he urged the faithful to stand by

the canons, and severely condemned the weakness of some prelates who

were disposed to yield.[1581] Some similar movements in Austria in

the next decade led Pius IX., almost immediately after his accession

to the papal chair, in his encyclical letter of November 9th, 1846,

to condemn the foul conspiracy against celibacy which was favored

by ecclesiastics plunged in sensuality and forgetful of their own

dignity.[1582] In 1851, moreover, he took especial pains to stigmatize

a work, published in Lima by Francisco de Paula in 1848, entitled

“Defensa de la Autoridad de los Gobiernos,” which impiously sought to

decentralize the church, and which took strong grounds against enforced

celibacy.[1583]

How immovable, indeed, is the position of the hierarchy on this matter

is shown by the case of Panzini. Panzini is, or was, a Capuchin monk

who, in 1854, conceived the idea that the greater part of the evils

under which the establishment labors are the result of celibacy and its

attendant immorality. He addressed to the pope an anonymous memorial

urging him to submit the question to the bishops then assembled in

Rome, and followed this with two similar subsequent applications.

Finally, in the troubles of 1859, anticipating the assembling of a

European congress, he resolved to print an essay on the subject,

addressed to all the bishops of the church, thinking that the congress

would afford him an opportunity of reaching them. The printer to

whom he confided his manuscript promptly placed the dangerous matter

in the hands of Cardinal Antonelli, when Panzini was at once thrown

into prison and delivered to the Inquisition. After a trial which

lasted six months, he was condemned to twelve years’ incarceration and

perpetual suspension from the sacerdotal functions which were his only

source of livelihood. After two years of his sentence had expired, he

was released at the instance of the Italian government, and in 1865

he published his essay, rewritten from memory, under the title of

“Pubblica Confessione di un Prigioniero dell’ Inquisizione Romana ed

origine dei mali della Chiesa Cattolica.”

Now, Panzini’s persecution arose solely from his affirming that

enforced celibacy is impolitic and unnatural. He professed unbounded

reverence for the church in all matters of faith, and claimed that

the point at issue was merely one of discipline on which the church

might make a mistake. Even here, however, he was careful to declare

his measureless admiration for voluntary asceticism. Virginity he

believed to be immensely superior to matrimony, and he anathematized as

cheerfully as the council of Trent could wish all who should proclaim

the contrary. Even monasticism he defended as a state of perfection

recommended by Christ. His sole objective point was the rigidity of the

law which renders the single state indispensable to all ecclesiastics,

and he essayed to prove that this is in direct antagonism to all the

general principles of Catholic theology, that the purity which is its

pretext is impossible to enforce, and that the effort itself is most

disastrous to the church and to the faithful. The authorities were not

disposed to consider that these opinions were an allowable dissidence

on matters of policy, and they hastened to brand them as heretical.

In the sentence passed upon Panzini the Inquisition took occasion to

stigmatize as heresy the assertion that enforced celibacy is contrary

to nature, that it is a stumbling-block and the cause of perpetual

transgression.[1584] That this theory was enforced in practice so long

as the church could control the secular power is shown in the case

of an Italian priest who, preferring to sanctify love by marriage

rather than to indulge in illicit intrigue, married and fled with his

bride to Africa, seeking among the Infidel the liberty denied him

in Christendom. Three children blessed his union, but the unresting

vigilance of the church discovered his retreat, when, with the aid of

the French consulate, he was seized, carried back to Naples, and thrown

into prison to repent indefinitely over his errors.[1585]

There evidently could be no reasonable ground for expecting a change

of policy in this respect on the part of the Roman curia, and this was

recognized in 1866 by some Catholic priests of Hungary, who desiring

liberty of marriage, and seeing the futility of anticipating it at the

hands of their superiors, united in petitioning the National Diet for

the requisite permission. Yet in spite of the extravagance of supposing

that a body which, since the Council of Trent, has become so thoroughly

centralized as the church, would listen to the wishes of its lower

classes, there were not wanting those who imagined that the Council of

the Vatican in 1870 would adopt the discipline of the Eastern Church

and permit marriage to the inferior orders. Any such expectations were

destined to be disappointed as soon as the preliminary machinery of

the council became known. A _congregazione centrale_ was appointed by

Pius IX. in advance, consisting exclusively of cardinals connected with

the Inquisition, and to this body was delegated the sole determination

of the matters to be submitted to the council for discussion. Under

this congregazione, and presided over by its members, were five

_consulte_, to act as sub-committees on the subjects respectively

confided to their deliberations. The consulta on faith and dogma was

under the presidency of Cardinal Bilio, notorious as the compiler of

the Syllabus of December, 1864; and that on canons and discipline was

committed to Cardinal Catarini, whose whole career had been passed in

the Inquisition, and who had acquired a sinister fame by his rigorous

punishment of all attempts at reform. If, as the church asserts, the

proceedings of general councils are under the immediate operation of

the Holy Ghost, it will be seen what reverent care was observed to keep

Him in due subjection, and to spare the church the scandal of being

brought, by thoughtless innovators, into opposition with Him.

As the destined outcome of the council was simply the dogma of papal

infallibility, the hopes of the anti-celibatarians were transferred

to the schism caused by that dogma, and known as that of the Old

Catholics. In 1875, a Dean Suczinsky married the Baroness Gazewaska,

and joined the schismatics, when the Prussian government decided to

protect him in the enjoyment of his temporalities, and his new brethren

agreed to receive him, and thus committed themselves on the question

of celibacy—a decision confirmed in 1878 by the Synod of Bonn, which

decreed, by a vote of 75 against 22, that the prohibition of the canons

is not an obstacle to the marriage of ecclesiastics, or to the cure of

souls by married priests. Yet the Old Catholic movement, despite the

well-earned eminence of some of its leaders, such as Döllinger, was

destined to failure from the start. It sought a compromise where no

compromise was possible—asserting the right of private judgment against

the Church Universal only to a certain point, and that point one which

concerned itself rather with intellectual subtleties than actual daily

affairs. The unbearable oppressions which lent practical application

to the polemics of Luther no longer existed; and the secular powers of

Europe felt too secure in their ability to defend themselves against

ecclesiastical encroachment to give substantial aid to the opponents of

Rome. The Old Catholic schism may therefore already be regarded almost

as a thing of the past, and one which will exercise no influence over

the future.

A more serious blow than that which Döllinger and his friends sought to

aim at the Roman curia has been dealt, in the matter of marriage, by

the adoption, in successive Catholic states, of what is known as Civil

Marriage, by which matrimony is withdrawn from the exclusive control

of the church, and the sacrament and benediction are declared to be

accidents not necessary to the legal status of husband and wife or to

the legitimacy and heritable capacity of children. We have already seen

that this was one of the legislative results of the French Revolution,

and the example thus early set by France has been followed of late by

Italy and Austria after its adoption, in 1853 by Sardinia, as one of

the earliest reformatory measures of Cavour. Yet the church positively

refuses to regard such marriages as entitled to respect. When the

project was under discussion in Italy, the _Unità Cattolica_, one of

the papal organs, in its issue of July 16th, 1864, did not hesitate

to assert that the establishment of civil matrimony was establishing

the liberty of licentiousness, and that, after having scattered houses

of ill-fame throughout Italy, it would convert the whole peninsula

into one brothel. In a similar spirit, Pius IX., in his allocution of

October 30th, 1866, denounced it as leading to an organized system

of scandalous concubinage. When, in May, 1868, Austria followed the

example of Italy, Pius, within a month, delivered an allocution, in

which he not only condemned the “abominable law,” but declared it to

be null and void; and Cardinal Rauscher, Archbishop of Vienna, issued

a manifesto, in which he not only denied that the civil contract

constituted marriage and directed that children sprung from such unions

should be entered on the parish registers as neither legitimate nor

illegitimate, but gave positive instructions that absolution should be

denied, even _in articulo mortis_, to all parties who had cohabited

in such unions—thus stigmatizing them as worse than concubinage. In

a similar spirit, when, in 1869, civil marriage was proclaimed under

the short-lived republic of Spain, the clergy, under inspiration from

the Vatican, denounced it as concubinage, and threatened to suspend

the celebration of the Mass. With the restoration of the monarchy the

law was promptly repealed, and an effort to restore it was rejected

by an emphatic vote of the Cortes in February, 1883, though, with the

more liberal tendencies that have since arisen, the matter is again

proposed for discussion. Leo XIII. has been vigorous in his opposition

to the innovation. In his first Encyclical, issued April 21st, 1878, he

declared that “citizens, profaning the dignity of Christian marriage,

have adopted legal concubinage in place of religious matrimony;” and

he returned to the attack in a special Encyclical on the subject,

published February 10th 1880. In this he assumes that, as “by the

will of Christ the church alone can and ought to legislate and decide

concerning sacraments, so it is out of the question to attempt to

transfer any, even the smallest part, of her power to the government of

the state,” and therefore “judicial sentences on conjugal contracts,

as to whether they have been entered upon rightly or wrongly,” are

a direct infringement of the rights of the church, whether those

judgments be adverse or not to the canons.

The earlier passages of this Encyclical are so warm and eloquent a

defence of the holiness of matrimony, as the natural condition of man

decreed by God, that it would probably trouble its author to explain

why so exalted and divine a state should be prohibited to the ministers

of the God who devised it and fitted his creatures specially for it.

Yet the persistent and bitter opposition of the church to the civil

marriage laws may not unreasonably be attributed to the fact that

under them the state has the power to recognize and permit clerical

marriage. For more than half a century such laws had existed in France,

but as the French tribunals leaned towards upholding ecclesiastical

celibacy, they were acquiesced in comparatively in silence. When Italy,

however, followed the example, it was seen that the temper of the

Italian government would lead to construing them in a sense favorable

to priestly liberty, and hence the opposition, which has been justified

and intensified by the result. Immediately on the passage of the Civil

Marriage Act, Dr. Prota, of Naples, an energetic reformer within the

church, in a letter of October 30th, 1865, advised all his clerical

friends to marry and to persist in the exercise of their functions,

“and the more who do so at once and simultaneously the safer for all,

for the bishops will venture the less to persecute you in the face

of public opinion.” Accordingly cases of priestly marriage commenced

to occur, and when they were contested their validity was confirmed

by the tribunals. The superior courts of Genoa, Trani, and Palermo

successively decided in this sense, and finally, in 1869, occurred the

case of Andrea Treglia, of the diocese of Salerno, which settled the

question in Naples. The municipal officers of Vietri refused to marry

him; the court of Salerno decided against him, but when the matter was

carried up to the court of appeals of Naples judgment was rendered in

his favor, and he was married forthwith—thus legitimating the unions

of some fifty priests who had preceded him, without the question

having been settled by the tribunal of last resort. In the organ of

the reforming Catholics of Naples, the _Emancipatore Cattolica_,

it is curious to see the successive marriages chronicled with the

same satisfaction as that evinced by Spalatin in the stormy days of

Luther.[1586]

Yet the whole question is one of but slender practical importance.

In no country is the Catholic church subservient to the state. It

controls its own sacraments, and no government is likely to venture

upon interference with it in its own sphere. While, therefore, it may

be deprived of the power to persecute and punish those of its members

who enter upon civil marriage, it yet possesses the ability to deprive

them of their functions, which in most cases is equivalent to depriving

them of bread; and it has an unquestioned right to expel them from its

communion. The priest who marries, therefore, is virtually separated

from his church and deprived of his means of livelihood—motives

which, combined with the moral forces at work to keep men within the

accustomed bounds, are quite sufficient to prevent defection from

growing common, or to render marriage with a priest attractive to women

above the lowest class. Even in the United States, where there is no

legal impediment to priestly marriage, and the tone of society is such

as rather to welcome those who escape from the pale of Rome, such

cases are very rare. A few years since one occurred in Philadelphia,

and in February, 1882, Father Agudi, of Hartford, committed matrimony,

but these are the only instances which I remember to have noted for

many years past. While, therefore, the civil marriage laws of Europe

unquestionably loosen the ties which in this respect bind the priest

to his church, there are still sufficient material and moral forces at

work to prevent desertions from this cause from assuming any serious

proportions.

* * * * *

Predictions, as a rule, are idle, and yet it would appear entirely safe

to assume that those who look forward to a change in the policy of the

church as regards the enforcement of celibacy among its ministers are

prompted rather by their wishes than by judgment, or by knowledge of

the influences at work. It matters little what may be the aspirations

of the vast body of men who form the working ecclesiastical force—the

humble priests and curés upon whom it depends for its support among

the populations. The autocratic theocracy, founded in the dark ages,

and strengthened by the council of Trent, received its final and

irrevocable shape when the church submissively adopted the Vatican

decree, which declared “that the Roman pontiff, when he speaks

_ex cathedra_, that is, when in discharge of the office of pastor

and doctor of all Christians, by virtue of his supreme apostolic

authority, he defines a doctrine regarding faith or morals, to be

held by the universal church, by the divine assistance promised him

in blessed Peter, is possessed of that infallibility with which the

divine Redeemer willed that his church should be endowed for defining

doctrine regarding faith or morals; and that therefore such definitions

are irreformable of themselves, and not from the consent of the

church. But if any one—which may God avert—presume to contradict this

definition let him be anathema.”[1587] It would be futile to imagine

after this that any pressure could be brought to bear upon the Roman

curia sufficient to induce a change in its immemorial policy—a change,

moreover, which would overwhelm it with the bitterest humiliation by

contradicting all its teachings since the days of St. Jerome. What was

so unbendingly refused to all the princes and nearly all the clergy

of Catholic Christendom in the doubtful days of the Reformation will

not be granted now, when, despite the destruction of the temporal

power in Italy, the spiritual influence of the church is as great as

ever, and it sees the results of its policy in the rapidly extending

area of its domination. When Pius IX. could boast that during his

single pontificate he had founded twenty-nine metropolitan sees and

one hundred and thirty episcopal dioceses, there would seem to be

no valid reason, from the stand-point of the Vatican, for an act so

revolutionary as the abrogation of celibacy, which would convert its

janizaries into householders, with human interests dissociated from

those of the church-militant.

* * * * *

The monastic orders have not escaped the innovating spirit of the

nineteenth century. In Spain, the revolutionary cortes of 1820 enacted

a law suppressing all the existing monastic foundations, excepting

the Knights of Malta and the Hospitalarios de San Juan, and further

prohibiting the founding of new institutions and the administering of

vows; but when in 1823 the constitutional government fell under French

bayonets, the Orders reëstablished themselves and took a bloody revenge

upon their persecutors. Again in 1836 the government of Isabella

II. undertook the same task, excepting the Padres de las Escuelas

Pias, the Hospitalarios de San Juan, and the Clerigos de la Mision,

but the attempt was short-lived; as was also that of 1868 under the

Republic. In the Netherlands, a series of laws adopted between 1818

and 1826 forbade the admission of novices in the contemplative orders,

which, being of no public utility, had no claim for recognition; and

irrevocable vows, moreover, were declared illegal. In 1820 a similar

effort was made in Naples, but it was unsuccessful. In the New World

still more sweeping reforms have been undertaken. Thus Paraguay,

in 1824, suppressed all monasteries as useless; Brazil, in 1829,

prohibited the entrance of new devotees in the existing foundations,

thus condemning them to gradual extinction; and in 1851 New Grenada

not only expelled the Company of Jesus and forbade the establishment

of any Order professing the doctrine of passive obedience, but threw

open the doors of all religious establishments, and promised legal

protection to those who should abandon them. Ten years later it

suppressed them altogether, and in 1874 its example was followed in

Venezuela.[1588] In 1849, one of the first acts of the Roman Republic

was to liberate all monks and nuns from obedience to their vows; and

in 1853 Cavour suppressed all the monastic houses of the Kingdom of

Sardinia, applying their property to the improvement of the clergy, in

spite of the superstitious fears excited by the almost simultaneous

deaths of several members of the royal family. After the formation

of the Kingdom of Italy, the law of June 28th, 1866, completed the

suppression of all the religious houses, pensioned or subsidized their

members, and confiscated their property. This process of secularization

was rapidly carried out, and early in 1867 the journals reported that

nearly all the inmates of the monasteries were dispersed, some of them

returning to their families, some of them accepting refuge offered

by the charitable, but most of them clubbing together and hiring

houses in which to live as of old. Two exceptions, indeed, were made

in the enforcement of the law. Monte Casino, the venerable mother of

western monachism, was spared, and provision made for its maintenance

as a national monument; while Savonarola’s convent of San Marco was

similarly favored, rather perhaps because of its frescoes than of

its historical associations. Against all this the church of course

protested vigorously, pronouncing the suppression of the orders and

the secularization of their possessions to be null and void; but the

readiness with which purchasers were found to give even more than the

appraised value of the property, shows how futile was resistance to the

tendency of the age.

So great a social revolution was of course not effected without much of

individual suffering, which, in some cases at least, was not diminished

by the methods adopted in enforcing the law. The fact that in 1856,

8000 monks petitioned Pius IX. for secularization, shows that the

ideas of the age had penetrated into some of the monasteries, but in

the greater number of cases the inmates were naturally averse to the

change. Panzini, who can assuredly not be regarded as a prejudiced

witness, speaks with bitter indignation of the files of soldiery sent

to drive from their houses the terrified nuns, who were thrown upon

the world without the means of subsistence or the training to earn

a livelihood, while their vows precluded them from marrying or from

worldly employment. Even the private fortunes brought by them in many

cases to their convents shared the common fate of confiscation, and

they sought in vain to have their dowers restored to them.[1589] It is

impossible not to feel sympathy for those whose misfortune consists

in having been born too late, and who are made to expiate the sins of

a system which they have reverently received from their forefathers.

The student of the past, moreover, may be pardoned a feeling of

regret at the destruction of the venerable institutions which, for

a thousand years, fostered the religious growth of Christendom; but

the civilization which they rendered possible has outgrown them. In

the history of development it is inevitable that Zeus should dethrone

his father Cronos; and the progress of humanity demands the removal

of that which has outlived its usefulness, and has become only a

stumbling-block in the path of human improvement.

Pius IX. himself had felt the need of some measure of reform in the

religious orders, but was powerless to enforce it. It is asserted that

before his early liberal tendencies had become completely eradicated,

on his return from Gaeta, he entertained the idea of rendering life

in common indispensable in all monastic institutions, of substituting

for the irrevocable vow one which should be renewable at a fixed

interval, and of deferring all ordinations to the priesthood until

the applicant should have entered on his 36th year. These sensible

measures, however, were opposed so strenuously by all the officials

that the Pope gave way—the General of the Franciscans even proclaiming

vehemently that they would assuredly result in the destruction of

all the religious orders.[1590] It would seem that Pius eventually,

in this respect as in others, fell completely into the hands of the

ultra-conservatives, for though in 1857 he defined that the simple

vow of the novitiate should not be taken before the age of 16, and

that the irrevocable vow should be deferred until the accomplishment

of a novitiate of three years, yet the following year he decreed

that the simple vow of the novice was irrevocable, except by papal

dispensation, unless, indeed, the general of the order should see fit

to expel the postulant.[1591] It is remarked, moreover, that while he

not infrequently exercised his dispensing power in releasing worthy

applicants from the vows of poverty and obedience, he never absolved

them from that of chastity;[1592] though it is not unreasonably urged

that all enlightened legislation holds engagements, even in matters of

trifling import, to be invalid when made by minors, while the church

permits, and even incites, children in their sixteenth year to enter

into obligations the nature of which they are unable to appreciate,

and then unyieldingly exacts of them the rigid execution of the rash

promise, under pain of eternal damnation.

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