career, what is most striking is the combination of shrewdness and
simplicity in the best sense of both words. Like Pius the Ninth, he has
most firmly set his face against doing anything which could be construed
as financially advantageous to his family, who are good gentlefolk, and
well to do in the world, but no more. All that he has as Pope he holds
in trust for the Church in the most literal acceptation of the term. The
contributions of Catholics, on being received, are immediately invested
in securities bearing interest, which securities are again sold as may
be necessary for current needs, and expended for the welfare of Catholic
Christianity. Every penny is most carefully accounted for. These moneys
are generally invested in Italian national bonds--a curious fact, and
indicative of considerable confidence in the existing state of things,
as well as a significant guarantee of the Vatican's good faith towards
the monarchy. It is commonly said in Rome among bankers that the Vatican
makes the market price of Italian bonds. Whether this be true or not, it
is an undeniable fact that the finances of the Vatican are under the
direct and exceedingly thrifty control of the Pope himself. To some
extent we may be surprised to find so much plain common sense surviving
in the character of one who has so long followed a spiritual career. We
should not have looked for such practical wisdom in Pius the Ninth. But
the times are changed since then, and are most changed in most recent
times. The head of the Catholic Church today must be a modern man, a
statesman, and an administrator; he must be able to cope with
difficulties as well as heresies; he must lead his men as well as guide
his flock; he must be the Church's steward as well as her consecrated
arch-head; he must be the reformer of manners as well as the preserver
of faith; he must be the understander of men's venial mistakes as well
as the censor of their mortal sins.
Battles for belief are no longer fought only with books and dogmas,
opinions and theories. Everything may serve nowadays, from money, which
is the fuel of nations, to wit, which is the weapon of the individual;
and the man who would lose no possible vantage must have both a heavy
hand and a light touch.
By his character and natural gifts, Leo the Thirteenth is essentially
active rather than contemplative, and it is not surprising that the
chief acts of his pontificate should have dealt rather with political
matters than with questions of dogma and ecclesiastical authority. It
has certainly been the object of the present Pope to impress upon the
world the necessity of Christianity in general, and of the Roman
Catholic Church in particular, as a means of social redemption and a
factor in political stability. This seems to be his inmost conviction,
as shown in all his actions and encyclical letters. One is impressed, at
every turn, by the strength of his belief in religion and in his own
mission to spread it abroad. In regard to forms of faith, the opinions
of mankind differ very widely, but the majority of intelligent men now
living seem to hold a more or less distinct faith of one sort or
another, and to require faith of some sort in their fellow-men. Common
atheism has had its little day, and is out of fashion. It is certainly
not possible to define that which has taken the place of the
pseudo-scientific materialism which plagued society twenty or thirty
years ago, and it is certainly beyond the province of this book to
examine into the current convictions with which we are to begin the
twentieth century.
Unprejudiced persons will not, however, withhold their admiration in
reviewing the life of a man who has devoted his energies, his
intelligence and his strength, not to mention the enormous power wielded
by him as the head of the Church, to the furtherance and accomplishment
of ends which so many of us believe to be good. For the pontificate of
Leo the Thirteenth has differed from that of his predecessor in that it
has been active rather than passive. While Pius the Ninth was the head
of the Church suffering, Leo the Thirteenth is the leader of the Church
militant. This seems to be the reason why he has more than once been
accused of inconsistency in his actions, notably in his instructions to
French Catholics, as compared with the position he has maintained
towards the Italian government. People seem to forget that, whereas the
question of temporal power is deeply involved in the latter case, it has
nothing whatever to do with the former, and as this question is the one
most often brought up against the papacy and discussed in connection
with it by people who seem to have very little idea of its real
meaning, it may be as well to state here at once the Pope's own view of
it.
'The temporary sovereignty is not absolutely requisite for the existence
of the papacy, since the Popes were deprived of it during several
centuries, but it is required in order that the pontiff's independence
may display itself freely, without obstacles, and be evident and
apparent in the eyes of the world. It is the social form, so to say, of
his guardianship, and of his manifestation. It is necessary--not to
existence, but to a right existence. The Pope who is not a sovereign is
necessarily a subject, because (in the social existence of a monarchy)
there is no mean term between subject and sovereign. A Pope who is a
subject of a given government is continually exposed to its influence
and pressure, or at least to influences connected with political aims
and interests.'
[Illustration: RAPHAEL'S "TRANSFIGURATION"]
The writer from whom these lines are quoted comes to the natural and
logical conclusion that this is not the normal position which should be
occupied by the head of the Church. I may remark here that the same view
is held in other countries besides Italy. The Emperor of Russia is the
undisputed head of the Russian Orthodox Church. Queen Victoria occupies,
by the British Constitution, almost exactly the same position towards
the Anglican Church. In practice, though certainly not in theory, it is
the evident purpose of the young German Emperor, constitutionally or
unconstitutionally, to create for himself the same dominant pontifical
position in regard to the Churches of the German Empire. It seems
somewhat unjust, therefore, that the Popes, whose right to the
sovereignty of Rome was for ages as undisputed as that of any King or
Emperor in Europe, though secondary in itself to their ecclesiastical
supremacy, should be blamed for protesting against what was undoubtedly
a usurpation so far as they were concerned, although others may look
upon it as a mere incident in the unification of a free people.
Moreover, since the unification was accomplished, the vanquished Popes
have acted with a fairness and openness which might well be imitated in
other countries. The Italians, as a nation, possess remarkable talent
and skill in conspiracy, and there is no organization in the world
better fitted than that of the Roman Catholic Church for secretly
organizing and carrying out a great political conspiracy, if any such
thing were ever attempted. The action of the Popes, on the contrary, has
been fair and above board.
Both Pius the Ninth and Leo the Thirteenth have stated their grievances
in the most public manner, and so far have they been from attempting to
exercise their vast influence in directing the politics of Italy that
they have enjoined upon Italian Catholics to abstain from political
contests altogether. Whether in so doing they have pursued a wise course
or not, history will decide, probably according to the taste of the
historian; but the fact itself sufficiently proves that they have given
their enemies more than a fair chance. This seems to have been the form
taken by their protests; and this is a fair answer to the principal
accusation brought by non-Catholics against the Pope, namely, that he is
ready to sacrifice everything in an unscrupulous attempt to regain
possession of temporal power. In other matters Leo the Thirteenth has
always shown himself to be a statesman, while Pius the Ninth was the
victim of his own meek and long-suffering character. To enter into the
consideration of the political action of the Pope during the last
fifteen years, would be to review the history of the world during that
time. To give an idea of the man's character, it would be sufficient to
recall three or four of the principal situations in which he has been
placed. A volume might be written, for instance, on his action in regard
to the German Army Bill, his position towards Ireland, his arbitration
in the question of the Caroline Islands, and his instructions to French
Catholics.
It is extremely hard to form a fair judgment from documents alone, and
especially from those documents which most generally come before the
public, namely, articles in such reviews as the _Contemporary Review_,
on the one hand, and the _Civilta Cattolica_ on the other. Indeed, the
statements on either side, if accepted without hesitation, would render
all criticisms futile. Devout Roman Catholics would answer that matters
of faith are beyond criticism altogether; but the writers in the
_Contemporary_, for instance, will, with equal assurance, declare
themselves right because they believe that they cannot be wrong. It
would be better to consult events themselves rather than the current
opinions of opposite parties concerning them, to set aside the
consideration of the aims rightly or wrongly attributed to Leo the
Thirteenth, and to look only on the results brought about by his policy
in our time. In cases where actions have a merely negative result, it is
just to consider the motive alone, if any criticism is necessary, and
here there seems to be no particular reason for doubting the Pope's
statement of his own case. For instance, in connection with Ireland, the
Pope said, in the document known as 'The Circular Letter of the
Propaganda': 'It is just that the Irish should seek to alleviate their
afflicted condition; it is just that they should fight for their rights,
nor is it denied them to collect money to alleviate the condition of the
Irish.' In regard to the same matter, the 'Decree of the Holy Office'
reads as follows: 'The Holy See has frequently given opportune advice
and counsel to the Irish people (upon whom it has always bestowed
especial affection), whenever its affairs seem to require it, by which
counsel and advice they might be enabled to defend and vindicate their
rights without prejudice to justice, and without disturbing the public
peace.' A fairer statement of the rights of men, and a more express
injunction against public disturbance of any kind, could hardly be
expressed in two short sentences.
Outside of Italy the position of Leo the Thirteenth in Rome is not
generally understood. Most people suppose that the expression 'the
prisoner in the Vatican,' which he applies to himself, and which is very
generally applied to him by the more ardent of Italian Catholics, is a
mere empty phrase, and that his confinement within his small dominion is
purely a matter of choice. This is not the case. So far as the political
theory of the question is concerned, it is probable that the Pope would
not in any case be inclined to appear openly on Italian territory unless
he showed himself as the official guest of King Humbert, who would
naturally be expected to return the visit. To make such an official
visit and such an appearance would be in fact to accept the Italian
domination in Rome, a course which, as has already been noticed, would
be contrary to the accepted Catholic idea of the social basis necessary
for the papacy. It would not necessarily be an uncatholic act, however,
but it would certainly be an unpapal one. No one would expect the
ex-Empress of the French, for instance, to live openly in Paris, as
though the Parisians had never been her subjects, and as though she
accepted the Republic in a friendly and forgiving spirit. And the case
is to all intents and purposes exactly identical.
[Illustration: LOGGIE OF RAPHAEL IN THE VATICAN]
But this is not all. It is unfortunately true that there is another and
much better reason why Leo the Thirteenth cannot show himself in the
streets of Rome. It is quite certain that his life would not be safe.
The enthusiastic friends of Italy who read glowing accounts of the
development of the new kingdom and write eloquent articles in the same
strain will be utterly horrified at this statement, and will, moreover,
laugh to scorn the idea that the modern civilized Italian could conspire
to take the life of a harmless and unoffending old man. They will be
quite right. The modern civilized Italians would treat the Pope with the
greatest respect and consideration if he appeared amongst them. Most of
them would take off their hats and stand aside while he drove by, and a
great many of them would probably go down upon their knees in the
streets to receive his blessing. The King, who is a gentleman, and
tolerant of religious practices, would treat the head of the Church with
respect. The Queen, who is not only religious, but devout, would hail
the reappearance of the pontiff with enthusiasm. But unfortunately for
the realization of any such thing, Rome is not peopled only by modern
civilized Italians, nor Italy either. There is in the city a very large
body of social democrats, anarchists and the like, not to mention the
small nondescript rabble which everywhere does its best to bring
discredit upon socialistic principles--a mere handful, perhaps, but
largely composed of fanatics and madmen, people half hysterical from
failure, poverty, vice and an indigestion of so-called 'free thought.'
There have not been many sovereigns nowadays whose lives have not been
attempted by such men at one time or another. Within our own memory an
Emperor of Russia, a President of the French Republic and two Presidents
of the United States have been actually murdered by just such men. The
King of Italy, and the Emperor William the First, Napoleon the Third,
Queen Victoria and Alexander the Third have all been assailed by such
fanatics within our own recollection, and some of them have narrowly
escaped death. Not one of them, with the exception of Alexander the
Third, has been so hated by a small and desperate body of men as Leo the
Thirteenth is hated by the little band which undoubtedly exists in Italy
today. I will venture to say that it is a matter of continual
satisfaction to the royal family of Italy, and to the Italian
government, that the Pope should really continue to consider himself a
prisoner within the precincts of the Vatican, since it is quite certain
that if he were to appear openly in Rome the Italian authorities would
not, in the long run, be able to protect his life.
After all that has been said and preached upon the subject by the
friends of Italy, it would be a serious matter indeed if the Pope,
taking a practical advantage of his theoretic liberty, should be done to
death in the streets of Rome by a self-styled Italian patriot. No one
who thoroughly understands Rome at the present day is ignorant that such
danger really exists, though it will no doubt be promptly denied by
Italian ministers, newspaper correspondents or other intelligent but
enthusiastic persons. The hysterical anarchist is unfortunately to be
met with all over the world at the present day, side by side with the
scientific social democrat, and too often under his immediate
protection. Indeed, a great number of the acts of Leo the Thirteenth, if
not all of them, have been directed against the mass of social democracy
in all its forms, good, bad and indifferent; and to the zeal of his
partisans in endeavouring to carry out his suggestions must be
attributed some of the strong utterances of the Church's adherents upon
matters political.
The question of 'assent and obedience' to the Holy See in matters not
relating to dogma and faith is, perhaps, the most important of all those
in which the papacy is now involved. There appears to be a decided
tendency to believe that Catholics ascribe to the Holy See a certain
degree of infallibility in regard to national policy and local
elections. The Pope's own words do not inculcate a blind obedience as
necessary to the salvation of the voter, though it is expressly declared
a grave offence to favour the election of persons opposed to the Roman
Catholic Church and whose opinions may tend to endanger its position.
The idea that the Pope's political utterances can ever be considered as
ex cathedra is too illogical to be presented seriously to the world by
thinking men. Leo the Thirteenth is undoubtedly a first-rate statesman,
and it might be to the advantage not only of all good Catholics but of
all humanity, and of the cause of peace itself, to follow his advice in
national and party politics whenever practicable. To bind oneself to
follow the political dictation of Leo the Thirteenth, and to consider
such obedience to the Pope as indispensable to salvation, would be to
create a precedent. Pius the Ninth was no statesman at all, and there
are plenty of instances in history of Popes whose political advice would
have been ruinous, if followed, though it was often formulated more
authoritatively and more dictatorially than the injunctions from time to
time imparted to Catholics by Leo the Thirteenth. An Alexander the Sixth
would be an impossibility in our day; but in theory, if another Rodrigo
Borgia should be elected to the Holy See, one should be as much bound to
obey his orders in voting for the election of the President of the
United States as one can possibly be to obey those of Leo the
Thirteenth, seeing that the divine right to direct the political
consciences of Catholics, if it existed at all, would be inherent in the
papacy as an institution, and not merely attributed by mistaken people
to the wise, learned and conscientious man who is now the head of the
Catholic Church. But the Pope's utterances have lately been interpreted
by his too zealous adherents to mean that every Catholic subject or
citizen throughout the world, who has the right to vote in his own
country, must give that vote in accordance with the dictates of the
Church as a whole, and of his bishop in particular, under pain of
committing a very grave offence against Catholic principles. A state in
which every action of man, public or private, should be guided solely
and entirely by his own religious convictions would no doubt be an ideal
one, and would approach the social perfection of a millennium. But in
the mean time a condition of society in which society itself should be
guided by such political opinions as any one man, human and limited, can
derive from his own conscience, pure and upright though it be, would be
neither logical nor desirable. There are points in the universal
struggle for life which do not turn upon questions of moral right and
wrong, and which every individual has a preeminent and inherent right to
decide for himself.
Anyone who undertakes to speak briefly of such a personage as Leo the
Thirteenth, and of such a question as the 'assent and obedience' of
Catholics in matters not connected with morals or belief, lays himself
open to the accusation of superficiality. We are all, however, obliged
to deal quickly and decisively, in these days, with practical matters of
which the discussion at length would fill many volumes. Most of us
cannot do more than form an opinion based upon the little knowledge we
have, express it as best we may, and pass on. The man who spends a
lifetime in the study of one point, the specialist in fact, is often too
ignorant of all other matters to form any general opinion worth
expressing. Humanity is too broad to be put under a microscope, too
strong to be treated like a little child. No one man, today, in this day
of many Caesars, can say surely and exactly what should be rendered to
each of them.
Leo the Thirteenth is the leader of a great organization of Christian
men and women spreading all over the world; the leader of a vast body of
human thought; the leader of a conservative army which will play a large
part in any coming struggle between anarchy and order. He may not be
here to direct when the battle begins, but he will leave a strong
position for his successor to defend, and great weapons for him to
wield, since he has done more to simplify and strengthen the Church's
organization than a dozen Popes have done in the last two centuries. Men
of such character fight the campaigns of the future many times over in
their thoughts while all the world is at peace around them, and when the
time comes at last, though they themselves be gone, the spirit they
called up still lives to lead, the sword they forged lies ready for
other hands, the roads they built are broad and straight for the march
of other feet, and they themselves, in their graves, have their share in
the victories that save mankind from social ruin.
[Illustration]
THE VATICAN
The Mons Vaticanus is sometimes said to have received its name from
'vaticinium,' an oracle or prophecy; for tradition says that Numa chose
the Vatican hill as a sacred place from which to declare to the people
the messages he received from the gods. It is not, however, one of the
seven hills on which ancient Rome was built, but forms a part of a ridge
beginning with the Janiculum and ending with Monte Mario, all of which
was outside the ancient limits of the city. In our day the name is
applied only to the immense pontifical palace adjacent to, and connected
with, the basilica of Saint Peter's.
The present existence of this palace is principally due to Nicholas the
Fifth, the builder pope, whose gigantic scheme would startle a modern
architect. His plan was to build the Church of Saint Peter's as a
starting point, and then to construct one vast central 'habitat' for the
papal administration, covering the whole of what is called the Borgo,
from the Castle of Sant' Angelo to the cathedral. In ancient times a
portico, or covered way supported on columns, led from the bridge to the
church, and it was probably from this real structure that Nicholas began
his imaginary one, only a small part of which was ever completed. That
small portion alone comprises the basilica and the Vatican Palace, which
together form by far the greatest continuous mass of buildings in the
world. The Colosseum is 195 yards long by 156 broad, including the
thickness of the walls. Saint Peter's Church alone is 205 yards long and
156 broad, so that the whole Colosseum would easily stand upon the
ground-plan of the church, while the Vatican Palace is more than half as
long again.
Nicholas the Fifth died in 1455, and the oldest parts of the present
Vatican Palace are not older than his reign. They are generally known as
Torre Borgia, from having been inhabited by Alexander the Sixth, who
died of poison in the third of the rooms now occupied by the library,
counting from the library side. The windows of these rooms look upon the
large square court of the Belvedere, and that part of the palace is not
visible from without.
Portions of the substructure of the earlier building were no doubt
utilized by Nicholas, and the secret gallery which connects the Vatican
with the mausoleum of Hadrian is generally attributed to Pope John the
Twenty-third, who died in 1417; but on the whole it may be said that the
Vatican Palace is originally a building of the period of the Renascence,
to which all successive popes have made additions.