“The trial is over, but it has been a terrible trial. How Gretchen rejoices in the possession of her darling child after all her suffering, you can well imagine. Her patience was indescribable. In my terrible anxiety I prayed most earnestly, and entreated my Milly, too, for help. I comforted Gretchen with telling her that Milly would send help.”
Then come plans for the education of the boy. How much does the following brief extract suggest!—
“I am thinking a great deal about his education. I told you a little while ago how I intended to teach him the ancient languages very early, by practice. I wish the child to believe all that is told him; and I now think you write in an assertion which I have formerly disputed, that it is better to tell children no tales, but to keep to the poets. But while I shall repeat and read the old poets to him in such a way that he will undoubtedly take the gods and heroes for historical beings, I shall tell him, at the same time, that the ancients had only an imperfect knowledge of the true God, and that these gods were overthrown when Christ came into the world. He shall believe in the letter of the Old and New Testaments, and I shall nurture in him from his infancy a firm faith in all that I have lost, or feel uncertain about.”
On the opposite page we read the following letter to the same correspondent, Madame Hensler:—
“I have spent yesterday and last night in thinking of my Milly, and this day, too, is sacred to these recollections. I saw her a few days ago in a dream. She seemed as if returning to me after a long separation. I felt uncertain, as one so often does in dreams, whether she was still living on this earth, or only appeared on it for a transient visit. She greeted me as if after a long absence, asked hastily after the child, and took it in her arms.
“Happy are those who can cherish such a hallowing remembrance as that of the departure of my Milly with pious faith, trusting for a brighter and eternal spring. Such a faith cannot be acquired by one’s own efforts. Oh that it may one day be my portion!”
“My son shall have a firm faith in all that I have lost, or feel uncertain about!” May the paternal hope, and the paternal confidence in its own “plans of education,” be fully justified.
One thing appears evident, that a residence at Rome (at least at the period when Niebuhr wrote) could not be very propitious to the cultivation of faith in educated minds. What is brought before us very vividly in these letters, and without any purposed design, is the combination of cold, worldly formalism, not to say hypocrisy, with harsh intolerant measures. The priesthood, with whom Niebuhr mingles, detest fanaticism, yet act with systematic bigotry. What union can be more repulsive than this—the cold heart and the heavy hand! A pious Chaldean, a man of great ability, comes to Rome to get a Bible printed there in his native language, under the censorship of the Propaganda. He applies to Niebuhr to assist him with money; Niebuhr exerts himself in his cause. The Chaldean is banished from Rome. His offence is not, as might perhaps be apprehended, the wish to print the Bible; he has accepted assistance from our Bible Society in carrying out his scheme. In sharp contrast with bigoted conduct of this description, we have Niebuhr’s general impression of the utter coldness of heart amongst the ecclesiastics at Rome. They run as follows—(the R. in this extract stands for Ringseis, a physician who had accompanied the Crown Prince of Bavaria to Rome, and who was a zealous and pious Catholic):—
“About the Italians you will have heard R’s. testimony, and we Protestants can leave it to him to paint the clergy, and the state of religion in this country. In fact, we are all cold and dead compared to his indignation. His society has been a great pleasure to us all, even to our reserved friend Bekker, who in general turns pale at the very thought of Popery, and finds me far too indulgent. With an enthusiast so full of heart as R. you can get on; between such a luxuriance of fancy and the unshackled reason, there is much such an analogy as subsists between science and art; whilst, on the contrary, the slavish subjection to the Church is ghastly death. The most superficial prophet of so-called enlightenment cannot have a more sincere aversion to enthusiasm than the Roman priesthood; and, in fact, their superstition bears no trace of it. Little as the admirers of Italy care for my words, I know that I am perfectly correct in saying, that even among the laity you cannot discover a vestige of piety.”
Meanwhile the years pass on, and the education of the little boy really begins. Niebuhr says he succeeds in the task better than he could venture to hope. Our readers cannot but be curious to know what was the course of instruction the great historian pursued.