Frederic the Great early in life fell under the influence of Voltaire and his disciples, from whom he learned to despise all religion, and especially the rigid Calvinism of his father. He became a religious sceptic, and, satisfied with his contempt for all forms of faith, did not take the trouble to persecute any. He asked of his subjects, whether Protestant or Catholic, nothing but money and recruits; for the rest, he allowed every one in his dominions “to save his soul after his own fashion.” He provided chaplains for his Catholic soldiers, and forbade the Calvinist and Lutheran ministers to interfere with their religious freedom, for reasons similar to those which had induced his father to permit Raymundus Bruns to say Mass in the garrison at Berlin. He had certainly no thought of showing any favor to the church, except so far as it might promote his own ambitious projects. His great need of soldiers made him throw every obstacle in the way of those who wished to enter the priesthood, and his fear of foreign influence caused him to forbid priests to leave the country. His mistrust of priests was so great that he gave instructions to Count Hoym, his Minister of State, to place them under a system of espionage. Catholics were carefully excluded from all influential and lucrative positions. They were taxed more heavily than Protestants, and professors in the universities were required to take an oath to uphold the Reformation.

Notwithstanding, it was in the reign of Frederic the Great that the Catholic Church in Prussia may be said to have entered upon a new life. For more than two hundred years it had had no recognized status there; but through the conquest of Silesia and the division of Poland, a large Catholic population was incorporated into the kingdom of Prussia, and thus a new element, which was formally recognized in the constitution promulgated by Frederic’s immediate successor, was introduced into the Prussian state. Together with the toleration of all who believed in God and were loyal to the king, the law of the land placed the Catholic and Protestant churches on an equal footing. To understand how far this was favorable to the church we must go back and consider the relations of Prussia to Protestantism.

What is known as the Territorial System, by which the faith of the people is delivered into the hands of the temporal ruler, has existed in Prussia from the time Albrecht of Brandenburg went over to the Reformers. Protestantism and absolutism triumphed simultaneously throughout Europe, and this must undoubtedly be in a great measure attributed to the fact that the Protestants, whether willingly or not, yielded up their faith into the keeping of kings and princes, and thus practically abandoned the distinction of the spiritual and temporal powers which lies at the foundation of Christian civilization, and is also the strongest bulwark against the encroachments of governments upon the rights of citizens. Duke Albrecht had hardly become a Protestant when he felt that it was his duty (“coacti sumus” are his words) to take upon himself the episcopal office. This was in 1530; in 1550 he treated the urgent request of the Assembly to have the bishopric of Samland restored as an attack upon his princely prerogative.

His successor diverted to other uses the fund destined for the maintenance of the bishops, and instituted two consistories, to which he entrusted the ecclesiastical affairs of the duchy.

During the XVIIth century Calvinism gained a firm foothold in Prussia. It became the religion of the ruling family, and Frederic William, called the Great Elector, to whose policy his successors have agreed to ascribe their greatness, sought in every way to promote its interests, though he strenuously exercised his jus episcopale, his spiritual supremacy over both the Lutherans and the Calvinists.

His son, Frederic, who first took the title of King of Prussia (1700), continued the policy of his father with regard to ecclesiastical affairs. “To us alone,” he declared to the Landstand, “belongs the jus supremum episcopale, the highest and sovereign right in ecclesiastical matters.”

The Lutherans wished to retain the exorcism as a part of the ceremony of baptism; but Frederic published an edict by which he forbade the appointment of any minister who would refuse to confer the sacrament without making use of this ceremony. In the same way he meddled with the Lutheran practice of auricular confession; and by an order issued in 1703 prohibited the publication of theological writings which had not received his imprimatur.

His successor, Frederic William, the father of Frederic the Great, looked upon himself as the absolute and irresponsible master of the subjects whom God had given him. “I am king and master,” he was wont to say, “and can do what I please.” He was a rigid Calvinist, and made his absolutism felt more especially in religious matters. It seems that preachers then, as since, were sometimes in the habit of preaching long sermons; so King Frederic William put a fine of two thalers upon any one who should preach longer than one hour. He required his preachers to insist in all their sermons upon the duty of obedience and loyalty to the king, and the government officials were charged to report any failure to make special mention of this duty. Both Lutherans and Calvinists were forbidden to touch in their sermons upon any points controverted between the two confessions. No detail of religious worship was insignificant enough to escape his meddlesome tyranny. The length of the service, the altar, the vestments of the minister, the sign of the cross, the giving or singing the blessing, all fell under his “high episcopal supervision.”

This unlovely old king was followed by Frederic the Great, who, though an infidel and a scoffer, held as firmly as his father to his sovereign episcopal prerogatives, and who, if less meddlesome, was not less arbitrary. And now we have got back to the constitution which, after Silesia and a part of Poland had been united to the crown of Prussia, was partially drawn up under Frederic the Great, and completed and promulgated during the reign of his successor; and which, as we have already said, placed the three principal confessions of the Christian faith in the Prussian states—viz., the Lutheran, the Reformed, and the Catholic—on a footing of equality before the law. Now, it must be noticed, this constitution left intact the absolute authority of the king over the Reformed and Lutheran churches, and therefore what might seem to be a great gain for the Catholic Church was really none at all, since it was simply placed under the supreme jurisdiction of the king. There was no express recognition of the organic union of the church in Prussia with the pope, nor of the right of the bishops to govern their dioceses according to the ecclesiastical canons, but rather the tacit assumption that the king was head of the Catholic as of the Protestant churches in Prussia. The constitution was drawn up by Suarez, a bitter enemy of the church, and in many of its details was characterized by an anti-Catholic spirit. It annulled, for instance, the contract made by parents of different faith concerning the religious education of their children, and manifested in many other ways that petty and tyrannical spirit which has led Prussia to interfere habitually with the internal discipline and working of the church.

As the Catholic population of Prussia increased through the annexation of different German states, this constitution, which gave the king supreme control of spiritual matters, was extended to the newly-acquired territories. Thus all through the XVIIIth century the church in Prussia, though not openly persecuted, was fettered. No progress was made, abuses could not be reformed, the appointment of bishops was not free, the training of the priesthood was very imperfect; and it is not surprising that this slavery should have been productive of many and serious evils.