I was born on the 16th October 1813, in Bischofswald, a village in the circle of Neisse, and near the Giant Mountains. I was the third child of my parents, who had ten others, of whom two died young. We were set to work at an early age, and while my elder brother was employed in the cultivation of the farm, my father's little flock of sheep was placed under my care and keeping, as the second surviving member of the family. Such was my chief occupation between the ages of six and twelve, during spring, summer, and autumn, the winter being spent in the performance of other species of rural labour. My father was serious, fearless, of sound judgment, and devoid of superstition. He died in March 1842. My mother was entirely devoted to the care of her family. She died in October 1831. My earliest instruction was obtained in the village school of Bischofswald, where the only branches taught, even in the highest class, were reading, writing, arithmetic, and the learning by rote of the Catechism and Bible history. It was only during my last year at school that I was instructed in geography and the history of Silesia. In my lonely shepherd life my mind dwelt often on religious subjects (I studied my Catechism and Bible history for the most part when in the field with my flock) on the future life, on time and the eternity beyond; and from such thoughts it acquired at times a melancholy tone. One of my teachers persuaded my father to send me to the High School, which, owing to his numerous family, he would not otherwise have done.
In 1827, I entered the High School at Neisse, and left it in 1836. I had but little taste for foreign languages, and could not form a friendship for Horace or the other Romans; but, on the other hand, I delighted in history and German literature. Rotteck enchanted me. It was with inexpressible joy that I entered the University of Breslau. I felt and knew that I was free, and would indeed have been ashamed to waste my time and freedom in idleness and sloth. Associated with a company of noble-minded youths, it was our earnest endeavour to cultivate our minds,* and strengthen our bodies.
* After a somewhat different fashion, perchance, than that
prescribed by Rome.
I chose theology as my profession, because I felt a strong leaning towards teaching, for the gratification of which the holy calling appeared to me peculiarly suited. I somewhat feared its formalism, but was not then acquainted, as I now am, with the compulsory and hypocritical system of the Romish hierarchy. Although several of my friends endeavoured to dissuade me from the choice, I fancied myself possessed of such strength of character as would enable me not only to meet the danger, but to turn it to account. My father, who made me so ample an allowance, that beyond a small bursary, I needed no further assistance, left me free to choose. As I perceived, however, that his means of providing for my brothers and sisters were straitened by his liberality to me, and feeling desirous, also, not to diminish their fortune, I deemed it my duty to relieve my father, as soon as possible, from the sacrifice which I knew he made on my account. This was an external reason, and one, I do not blush to own, for determining to enter the Roman Catholic priesthood. And how many of the clergy are there who can say, that in their choice of a profession, they have not been influenced by similar motives? While I was at the University I also fulfilled my period of military service at Breslau, in the corps of sharpshooters, under Major von Firk.
THE SEMINARY.
In the month of December 1839, I was received into the Seminary, and entered on a period of mournful and painful conflict. The confidence I had hitherto reposed in our spiritual teachers was soon expelled from my breast by a nearer survey of their mode of life, and replaced by the deepest horror and loathing, which seized me when I became aware how shamefully they abused religion, for the purpose of degrading and subjecting the people to their will; when I saw by what a fearful veil of hypocrisy deceitful Rome surrounds us from our cradles to our graves; when I saw how the holiest ordinances are insultingly misused, to crush the dignity of human nature. The disgraceful fetters galled me, which, till now, I had not felt, and I perceived what many of my fellow sufferers endured, and all the more severely, the less they dared avow the causes of their suffering. For the policy of Rome knows how to entwine in bonds from which there is no escape, all Christians who profess its creed, and more skilfully than Moses, who once drew water from the barren rock, can conjure money from the impoverished people; but their principal care and most consummate skill are constantly directed towards their servants, that is to say, to the inferior clergy and their education. The inferior clergy are so securely bound in spiritual and external fetters, that for the greater number it is almost impossible to escape. The peculiar and appropriate armoury for these degrading bonds is the College or Seminary for priests. It is there that the youth, who wishes to devote himself to the teaching of the people, has the brand of slavery stamped deep and painfully upon him; it is there that he is condemned to holy idleness; it is there that his spirit is fettered, and bowed to blind obedience by superstitious dread and sacred statutes; it is there that he is inoculated in heart and soul with hypocrisy and selfish egotism; it is there that man is degraded to the condition of a slave, and becomes a passive tool. The pain, the torment of this sacrifice is fearful, and nature instinctively revolts when she is robbed of her holiest rights, of the most valued gifts of the Creator. And yet the slave is silent, and all the more so, as the grave is deeper where his freedom and his dignity lie buried. It is but seldom that a despairing cry escapes from his inmost soul, and dies away in utterance, amid the empty sounds of simulated prayer.
I cannot think, without a trembling in my every nerve, on all the ignominy which was heaped upon us, and on the disgraceful treatment which we must endure; and I could wish the pen I write with were a blazing torch, to illuminate the deep abyss wherein hearts are stifled, and spirits overwhelmed amid hymns of praise! I need, however, only to depict in quiet, softer colours, what I have seen and felt, to rouse with certainty the wrathful horror, and the deepest sympathy of the greater part of my fellow citizens, who may still be unacquainted with the fearful strategy of the Church of Rome.