X. “Say what you really mean,—between the Holy Father and the Holy Revolution.”
After this test of M’s intellectual calibre, I am not surprised to learn that he is treated throughout with the most contemptuous playfulness. He is horror-struck at learning that, in fact, he is nothing better “than a mediator between Christ and Beelzebub.” He is joked about the fait accompli; and asked whether he would consider a box on his ears was excused and accounted for by a similar denomination of the occurrence; questioned, whether he would like himself to be deprived of all his property; and at last dumbfounded by the inquiry, whether the reasoning of his beloved pamphlet is anything but rank communism. M, in fact, after this tirade ceases
any attempt at argument, and contents himself with feeble suggestions, which afford to X fertile openings for the exercise of his vituperative abilities. For instance, M drops a hint that the Pope might be placed under the guarantee and protection of the Catholic powers; on which X retorts: “The Catholic powers indeed! First of all, you ought to be sure whether the Catholic powers will not co-operate with the Jew, in the disgraceful act of plundering Christ through his Vicar, in order to guarantee him afterwards the last shreds of his garment.” (Another somewhat novel view, by the way, of Gospel history.) “Secondly, you should learn whether any tribunal in the world, in the name of common justice, would place the victim under the protection and guarantee of his spoiler.” When M expresses a doubt whether there is any career for a soldier or statesman under the Papal Government, his doubts are removed by the reflection that the Roman statesmen are no worse off than the French, and that, if Roman soldiers don’t fight, and Roman orators don’t speak, it is because the exertion of their faculties would not prove beneficial to themselves or others. Then follows one of those ejaculatory paragraphs, which
tract-controversialists generally, and X especially, delight in. “You! yes, you! applaud that Parisian insult-monger, who after having robbed Rome of the provinces, that give her power and splendour, and having left her a city maimed of hands and feet, with a frontier two fingers’-length from the Vatican, then speaks of Rome thus degraded; he, I say, this author of yours—this legislator of yours—this Parisian of yours, speaks in the words of Le Pape et le Congrès,”—and so on, through a labyrinth of exclamatory parentheses. “Moderate” is overwhelmed by all this; becomes convinced and converted; and, after the fashion of Papal converts, out-Herods Herod in the ardour of his zeal. He volunteers to X the following original view of French politics: “I can understand the anger of the (French) journals because France has been so unfortunate in her Italian enterprise. She promised, she advised, she threatened; and promises, advice, and threats are alike dispersed in air. She promised and placarded on all the walls the independence of Italy from the Alps to the Adriatic. Where is her promise now? She promised and published through all the Churches the freedom and integrity of the Papal
dominions. Where is her promise now? She advised Piedmont, she advised the Duchies, she advised the Romagna, and her advice was neither received nor accepted. Where is her advice now? Then came the threats of the 31st of December last, and, with profound respect, she threatened the Pope to sacrifice the Romagna; and her prayers or her threats, as you like, where are they now?” Again, of his own accord, M asserts, as a self-evident fact, that “morality and justice have no better sanctuary and no purer inspirations than are to be found in the Court of the Vatican.” What slight difficulties he still entertains are removed at once. He asks X candidly to tell him whether the Papal government is really a bad one or not, and is satisfied with the quotation “Sunt bona mixta malis;” he then inquires, in all simplicity, why there are so many complaints and outbreaks against the Papal rule? and is told, in explanation, that the Pope is persecuted because he is weak. X, emboldened by his easy triumph, ridicules the notion of any reforms being granted by the Papacy, states that what is wanted is a reform in the Papal subjects, not in the Papal rulers, and finally falls foul of poor M, in such language as this:—
“What good can we ever expect from this race of Moderates, who in all revolutions are sent out as pioneers, who have ruined every state in turn by shutting their eyes to every danger, and parleying with every revolution, and who would propose a compromise even with fire or fever, or plague itself.” After this, X repeats the old fable of the horse and the man, and then launches into a tirade against France: “You refused to believe that Italy replaced foreign influence by foreign dominion on the day on which France crossed the Alps. Do you still disbelieve in the treason which is plotting against Italy, by depriving her of her natural bulwarks, Savoy, Nice, and the maritime Alps? Do you not see, that while you are lulled to sleep by the syren song of Italian independence, Italy is weakened, dismembered and enslaved?” A last suggestion of M, that possibly the language of the encyclical letter was a little too strong, brings forth the following retort: “It was strong, and tasted bitter to diseased and vitiated palates, but to the lips of justice the taste was sweet and satisfying. Poor nations! What have politics become? What filth we are obliged to swallow! What scandal to the people; what a lesson of immorality is this fashion
of outraging every principle of right, with sword, tongue and pen! In this chaos, blessed be Providence, there is one free voice left, the voice of St Peter, which is raised in defence of justice, despised and disregarded.” Hereupon M confesses, “on the faith of a Moderate,” that the refusal of the Pope to accept the advice of the Emperor was “an act worthy of him, both as Pope and Italian sovereign,” and then retires in shame and confusion.
S, the sincere opponent, then enters and announces with foolish pride, that “Italy shall be free, and the gates of hell shall prevail.” Pride cometh before a fall, and S is shortly convinced that his remark was profane, and that, by his own shewing, liberty was a gift of hell. S then repeats a number of common-places about the rights of men, the voice of the people, and the will of the majority; and as, in every case, he quotes these common-places incorrectly and inappropriately, X upsets him without effort. As a specimen of the style of logic adopted, I will take one case at hazard. S states that “his reason of all reasons is, that Italy belongs to the Italians, and that the Italians have the right of dividing it, uniting it, and governing it, as seems
good in their own sight.” To this X answers, “I adopt and apply your own principle. Turin, with its houses, belongs to the Turinese; therefore the Turinese have the right to divide or unite the houses of Turin, or drive out their possessors, as seems good in their own sight.” The gross disingenuousness, the palpable quibble in this argument, need no exposure. Logically, however, the argument is rather above the usual range. X then proceeds to frighten S with the old bugbears;—the impossibility of real union between the Italian races; the absorption of the local small capitals in the event of a great kingdom, and the certainty that the European powers will never consent to an Italian monarchy. This conclusion is a short resumé of Papal history, which will somewhat surprise the readers of Ranke and Gibbon.
“After the death of Constantine, the almost regal authority of the Popes in reality commenced. Gregory the Great, created Pope 440 a.d. was compelled for the safety of Italy to exercise this authority against the Lombards on one hand, and the rapacious Exarchs on the other. About 726 a.d. Gregory II. declined the offer of Ravenna, Venice, and the other Italian States, who conferred upon him, in name as well as in fact,