Swiss allmends, and a walk to see them

by F. Barham Zincke

A word or two about the colour of the image of Our Lady of Einsiedln. Was the Virgin black? If not, why is this image black? As no reason is given, except the authority of the Church, which has received it as a true representation, vouched to be true by the miracles it has worked, and is still working, we are left to what light we ourselves may possess for the elucidation of the difficulty. The blackness is intentional, because it is superimposed on the material, and is repeated in every reproduction of the image. Now we are all aware that blackness of complexion, one of the characteristics of the negroid races, results from the presence in the cuticle of the granules of a kind of pigment, which are not found in the cuticle of the European, and which could not have been present, except to a very inconsiderable degree, in that of a Jewess, especially in one of the house and lineage of David. In the days, however, of Charlemagne, when Ste. Hildegarde of Zurich gave the original black image to the anchorite of the House of Hohenzollern, who retired with it to the spot where Einsiedln now stands, to tend and to serve it, matters of this kind were not thought about; such distinctions were not understood: nor are they at this day understood, or thought about, by the peasants of the Valais; though probably a day will come when it will be otherwise even with them. We, however, cannot help noticing them, and adverting to them, when this image is before us.

The Virgin is here represented as by her complexion of the negroid race. In multitudes of other images, the genuineness and authenticity of which is vouched for by the same authority, she is represented by the same token, that of complexion, as a Caucasian. A Jewess of the house and lineage of David might, possibly, have been as fair as a Caucasian: so that may pass. But she could not have been as swart as the negroid race. That would have been impossible. But the greater impossibility—supposing impossibility to admit of degrees—is that which this authority vouches for, that she was both as fair as a Caucasian and as swart as a negro. Under which colour, then? Infallible authority. Speak, or die. It is not possible to ride off on the assertion that this is a matter of no consequence at all. If the peasant of the Valais is to prostrate himself before this image, let it at all events have some verisimilitude. It is, however, true that there are some questions of a graver character, which have to be asked, and for which each will have, himself, to find an answer. If authority betrays ignorance in this particular of colour, what guarantee have we that its ignorance stops here? If it be mistaken in this, how can we be sure that it does not make mistakes in other particulars; for instance, in having any image at all of the Virgin, here, or elsewhere; and in addressing prayer to her as a mediator or intercessor, for we have no authority for putting these words into a feminine form? If, in the matter of colour, the authority we had previously been referring to says that black is white; and that white is black; and that there is no difference between them; why may it not rule, in a similar fashion, in other matters? If it is ignorant, mistaken, and contradictory in that which is least, supposing it to affirm that these points are of that category, we have another authority—this time an authority we all defer to—for believing that it may be ignorant, mistaken, and contradictory in that which is greater. If the abbot and his sixty brethren—to say nothing about the infallible head of the Church—are not themselves at all ignorant, or mistaken, in this matter of the black-faced, and black-handed image, their position is not thereby at all improved. From whatever side, then, we look at it, there is about it something ugly.

The world has lately been startled at the manner in which the Church of Rome, after centuries of indifference to pilgrimages, has, all of a sudden, woke up to a sense of their advantages and necessity. They are now being preached up everywhere; but most loudly in France, Italy, and Romanist Germany. Why particularly just now? Why was not this done equally one, or two, hundred years ago? And why, just at this moment, in these countries? Everything has a cause. There was a reason why they were not preached up one, or two, centuries ago; and there is a reason for their being preached up now. And it requires no great amount of sagacity to make out the reason in each case. They are preached up now, because pilgrimages are supposed to be a very good device for stirring up the fanaticism of the ignorant; and it is hoped that, when fanaticism has been stirred up, it may be directed against the Governments of Italy, Germany, and France. Voila tout. They are not preached up because they may be profitable to the saving of souls: for, if that were the reason, they ought to have been preached up as much a hundred years ago as to-day. They are preached up now, because it is believed that the spirit they engender may be turned to account in the game the Church of Rome is now playing. Its platform, just at present, is to exasperate the ignorant classes, everywhere, against government. Hence its denunciations of Cæsarism, of which nothing was heard as long as Napoleon III. was acting in conformity to the dictation of the priests. Pilgrimages are a plank of this platform.

Those, who come to this conclusion, will go on to ask, whether that Church is likely to win by these means? We may deem the means both dishonest and insufficient: still it would be unwise for that reason, or for any other, to think lightly of our opponents. Your harpoon may be fixed securely in a whale’s vitals; still, if you do not take care what you are about, he may foul your boat with his head, or lash it with his tail, and throw all your hands into the water, and be the death of some of them. He must die: but if you do not keep a good look-out, he will get you into trouble before he dies.

Consider the situation: and you will see that you can afford to wait, and to be calm. Everything in the world that is great, and growing, is on your side: east, north, and west. In the eyes of the great empire of Russia, that will soon number 100,000,000 of subjects, the Church of Rome is regarded, and historically this is not a mistake, as merely an unorthodox and schismatic communion. Germany, the great intellectual and military power of the day, has just crumpled up the political bulwark of the Church of Rome, and is now confronting the machinations of that Church itself; which, by the way, had had no small share in the creation of the animosity that brought its political bulwark to rush upon destruction. Next comes England, the busiest, the wealthiest, and the most prolific of all people, whose empire is greater than that of Rome was of old; and to whom it has been given, as the mother of nations, to occupy the wide waste places of the earth. And then in the New World we have already nearly 50,000,000 of English-speaking people, and these every five-and-twenty years double their numbers. Russia, then, and Germany, and England, and the United States must all be put into the scale which weighs the opponents of Rome. And what is to be put into the scale in which Rome weighs her resources? Chiefly Italy, France, and Spain—the Latin race. And how do they stand affected to the Church of Rome? And what are they doing for her? They know her best. But the truth is that they know her too well to like her, to trust her, to believe in her, or to do anything for her. All, of late years, they have done, that has any bearing on her interests, is against her. And how does she meet all this? By the pronunciamento of Infallibility. And what does that mean? It means, looking back, that all the mistakes, and all the crimes of the past are to be maintained; and just now it means the syllabus, and pilgrimages. We can, then, afford to be calm: but we must take care not to be struck by the flap of the tail of the distracted and dying monster.

It is hard, upon this subject, to find anything to say to those who are incapable of understanding that force of mind is rightfully, and, in the long run, practically the greatest force among men; that force of mind is compounded of moral and of intellectual elements; and that neither individuals, nor, and still less, nations who submit alike understanding and conscience to the dictation of Roman Infallibility, which has ever acted with a view to its own supposed interests, can be morally and intellectually strong. Russia, Germany, England, and the United States are not in subjection to this thraldom; and that is a reason, perhaps the chief reason, of their vigour. France is in the unhappy condition of either submitting to it, or of becoming irreligious. At present, therefore, it would almost seem that she can only be strong in proportion as she becomes irreligious. It is the Church of Rome that has brought her into this dilemma. Irreligion, though stronger than thraldom, is weaker than moral and intellectual power animated by religion.

But to go back to our pilgrimages: that to Paray-le-Monial, we have heard so much of lately, has some bearing on the pilgrimage to Einsiedln. There are multitudes of old familiar places of pilgrimage in Italy, France, and Spain. If pilgrimages are to be made, why not to one of them? The virtue of pilgrimages to them has, in other times, been loudly proclaimed. Why then are they, now, to be set aside, and ignored? And this in favour of a new place? Simply, because the world, including the Romanist world, has advanced. If, therefore, in the face of a world that has advanced, and that discusses everything, pilgrimages are to be preached up, something that has the appearance of being more religious, more reasonable, more spiritual, more Christian than the old objects of pilgrimage must be presented in their stead. We can hardly picture to ourselves even the intrepid Archbishop of Westminster preaching up pilgrimages to the black-faced image of Einsiedln. The commonplace visions of the feazy imagination of the nun of Paray-le-Monial, to some extent, met the difficulty. Here was something that might, in a sense, be preached in Paris and in London. True those visions could not bear examination; but few people are disposed, or, should they be, are able to examine such matters thoroughly. And true, also, that what was selected from those visions, to be presented to the Romanist world as the new object of pilgrimages, involves many assumptions: for instance, it assumes that a conception, which is purely spiritual, has a physical, earthly, material form and substance; and then, furthermore, that the heart is the seat and organ of the affections, and that the brain is not. This may, or it may not, be both good physiology, and good psychology: but, as yet, it requires proof. In the meantime it may be suggested that the heart has evidently another duty to perform, which in itself would go some way towards disproving the supposition which supplied the form of the poor nun’s hallucinations. And with respect to the lower animals, there is nothing to lead us to believe that the heart is the seat and organ of what affections they possess. The assumption, however, of these points would, for the present, be less damaging than that of those involved in the old objects of pilgrimage.

But in forming our opinions on matters of this kind, we must consider not only our own position, and must regard the points in debate not only from our own point of view, but must also endeavour to understand the position, and the point of view, of the Romanist. Pilgrimages must now be preached up, because the Church of Rome supposes that it wants Crusades. It would be impossible to preach up pilgrimages to the black-faced image of Einsiedln. The object now presented to the devout must be something that admits of open advocacy in the face of the world. Everything must be done now, more or less, in the light of day. The visions of the poor nun of Paray-le-Monial supplied, passably, what was required. It would, too, be in these times very desirable that some new object of this kind should be made, if possible, to supersede the old objects: their day was gone by.

We must also, in endeavouring to understand the policy of the Church of Rome, look at things from the point of view of an Infallible Church. Its Infallibility obliges it to accept, and maintain for ever, everything it ever at any time accepted, or maintained. It cannot disclaim the practice, or the principle, of the Inquisition; nor can it acknowledge that the black-faced image was a mistake. It has bound itself, irrevocably, to the maintenance of everything it ever taught or did. Its assumption of Infallibility obliges it to hold that everything it has taught, and is teaching, rests upon precisely the same ground and authority; that all must stand, or that all must fall, together; and that all must stand, or that all must fall, together with its system: the black-faced image, and the plenary remission, of Einsiedln, belief in the being of God, and in the infallibility of the Pope of Rome, truth of every kind, and the practice of every virtue. Arrogance, disregard for, and distrust of truth, worldliness, unbelief, cowardice can go no further. In this statement they all together culminate in one climax.

Morality and religion, however, do not depend for their being on the Church of Rome. They existed before it, and will exist after it, and notwithstanding it. Even its immorality and irreligion will not, we may be sure, permanently be able to injure morality and religion, even in the Romanist world. France, Italy, and Spain will recover. Morality and religion are eternal; for morality, as we now know by an induction from all kindreds of men, through all ages, in every form and stage of barbarism, and in every form and stage of civilization, is the order of the family, and of society: the very word itself indicates this. And religion is morality, practised not merely with reference to the requirements of the family, and of society, but also with reference to what in these, and in all other, domains of morality is required of us by our conceptions of God, and of a future life. The effect of these conceptions on morality is that they enlarge, elevate, and purify it; and give additional motives for its practice. Morality is eternal, because it is inherent in, and inseparable from domestic, social, political, and individual life. And religion, the principle of the spiritual life, which, of course, is still human life in this world, is the same morality, only regulated, so far as present circumstances admit, by a reference to the unseen world. All this has been obscured; and morality and religion have been corrupted and perverted, by the aims and claims, the policy and the developments, of the Church of Rome. Knock away those aims and claims, that policy and those developments, and then the Romanist world will have a chance of seeing morality and religion in their true forms; and will also see—which the teaching of the Church of Rome has done, and is doing, a great deal to prevent it from seeing—that they are the salt, and the light of life; which have been, for they inhere in the nature of human things, from everlasting, and, for the same reason, must continue to everlasting.