Once more: morality is the right ordering of the life of the individual, and of the family, and of society, and of the state; internally, with a view to his, or its own well-being; and externally, with a view to the well-being of all the rest. And it is not looking too far afield to add what even the old heathen world saw, that it is the right ordering of each with a view to the well-being of mankind, generally; this makes its empire universal, for it advances its dominion to the utmost limits of international law. All its forms are both relative, and related. It is the same ideas and principles applied to different natural units from the individual up to mankind. Religion is the ordering of these forms of morality, when weighed in the balance of the sanctuary. Our quarrel with Rome is that it weighs them all in the balance of ecclesiastical domination. It shapes them all in accordance with the requirements of this low, narrow, class interest; and in every Catholic country these have, hitherto, been found inconsistent with the requirements of the state, and of the home, and of the individual. The perversion of that which is best is, proverbially, the worst thing of all; and the perversions of the Church of Rome have ever been a demonstration of the truth of the proverb. From these perversions, for it is built up with them, and they are of its essence, it can never, except accidentally, deviate. If it were to begin to act upon the principle of the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth, and this for all, it would cease to be the Church of Rome. It lowers to the level of its own worldly interests, for everything must be subordinated to them, the life of the individual, of the family, of society, and of the state; in three words, truth, virtue, and religion: that is to say, all that is best among men, all their dearest interests, all that makes life desirable, and even tolerable. This is the interpretation of every manifesto issued from Rome. We honour the devotion to their Church of the poor peasants of the Valais, and of all others who honestly, and in simplicity of mind, believe in it; be they individuals, or be they nations. But, in respect of that which is best, and highest, and truest, there is a wide difference—wide as the poles apart—between what it ought to be, to which these good people know their fealty to be due, and that which is only its corruption and perversion: again, the cause of its corruption and perversion being that those, who lord it over the Church of Rome have, somehow or other, been brought to seek first not that which is truest, and highest, and best, but ecclesiastical domination, and to that to subordinate everything. And hence it is that it has come about, that when men ask for bread the lords of that Church can offer only something very like a stone; when for light, only something very like darkness; when for the highest life, only a low form of life; when for truth, only the infallibility of Mastai Ferretti.
Few things can be more laughable than the threats of social and political cataclysms, the charges of falsehood, unbelief, and other theological abuse, the misrepresentations of facts, of motives, and of history, which are ever on the tongue of the head of the Romanist Church, to be echoed by his subordinate array of Archbishops and Bishops, and their mediæval-minded proselytes, always accompanied, in the name of peace and religion, with earnest deprecations of every kind of controversy, and even of so much as a word in reply: for if a man smite you on the right cheek, ought you not to turn to him the other also? Or if he take away your coat, ought you not to let him have your cloak also? At all events, one profession, and that a legitimate one, would find its occupation gone, and another, but this an illegitimate one, would find its occupation far smoother and more profitable than would be for the general good, were society to allow any such method of proceeding in the management of its worldly affairs, and in the protection of its worldly goods: though, of course, it may be quite different with respect to the higher matters of truth, morality, and religion. The proposal amounts simply to this: ‘Just allow us to make whatever accusations, and whatever claims, may suit our purpose. However false and injurious the accusations, and however groundless and injurious the claims, pray do not say a word in reply. Only be silent, and allow judgment to go against you by default. Nothing can be easier and more reasonable. All will then be well. Should you act otherwise, the whole blame, it is clear, will rest with you.’
CHAPTER X.
THE LAKE OF ZURICH—RAPPERSWYL—GLARUS—THE LINTHTHAL—THE PANTENBRÜCKE.
Sharp-pressing Need, that spurs
The poor man’s wits, and Work that robs from sleep
And pleasure their due hours, outbraves and beats
Hard Nature’s oppositions.—Adapted from Virgil.
August 18.—At mid-day left the mediævalism of Einsiedln to take the rail at Rapperswyl for manufacturing Glarus. Were hardly out of the town when we came upon railway cuttings and viaducts in construction. The iron horse, then, will soon be panting and snorting in, and hurrying into and out of, this great and famous resort of peasant pilgrims. It is not long before you are looking down on the lake of Zurich, and its pleasant, well-peopled shores. At Einsiedln all was damp grass, generally poor enough, with very little wood, and very little variety of outline, and no variety of culture—a dreary, monotonous, saddening scene. But now everything is changed completely. Before us are land and water, mountains and plains, variety of outline, variety of culture, variety of objects, variety of life. You are among orchards and meadows, cornfields and vineyards. You look down over them to the blue lake. Beyond the lake, on its further side, reaching far right and left, is a broad expanse of undulating ground. In this expanse, every here and there, a house is showing, very white and cheery, among the dark green trees and the light green grass—the houses of well-to-do people. You think they have been built, most of them, by professional men, or owners of factories, or shops, in Zurich, Rapperswyl, or some neighbouring town. They are rewards of patient industry, and of well-directed intelligence. All nature is basking in, and absorbing, and being quickened by, the warm sunshine. Grass is growing, grapes are colouring, fruit is ripening, corn maturing. Your mind is stirred. It is full of pictures, and each picture is full of pleasant meanings. But all the meanings of all the pictures, in their simplest expressions, come to this, that, in the charming scene you have before you, there are many indications of much earthly happiness, issuing from the exercise of the earthly virtues of industry, honesty, and frugality; and from the practice of allowing to others what you would wish should be allowed to yourself.
And so you reach the margin of the lake opposite Rapperswyl. Here is a long spit of land projecting into the lake. You drive to the extremity of this, and cross to Rapperswyl by a wooden bridge, three quarters of a mile in length. I do not know whether there is width enough for two carriages to cross each other, but I thought that there was not. It has no side rails to prevent your fancying that you may fall into the water. The planks of the roadway are not fastened; but as they are thick, and set close together, they cannot dance out of their places.