The future must be its own interpreter. Meantime in the Vatican sits a king calling himself a prisoner, though he is free to go where he will; and in the Quirinal, a king calling himself a good Catholic, though he is a rebel against the Vicar of God. If the wisdom of Italy in allowing to the Pope unlimited personal freedom has been great, the want of wisdom in professing to exalt his spiritual authority, and in giving in to his sole hand the ancient powers of both the crown and the people in the election of bishops and clergy, amounts perhaps to the grossest political folly of our age. When Bonaparte dealt with the Pope as sole arbiter of the bishoprics of France, he opened a mine against the national authority whether seated on a throne or on a president's chair, over which it has never sat securely, and in which it will one day sink if France goes on as she has done of late, giving the priests increasing power in education. But when Victor Emmanuel repeats this blunder in a form more completely providing for future Papal power, he digs a grave under the feet of his own dynasty. To Italians, unhappily, a great hypocrisy may be a great triumph of skill; they smile at principles, admire shifts, and are wondrously clever at them. In politics, till they found the principle of constitutional monarchy, they, in spite of all their shifts, floundered between fruitless conspiracy and repression—never ending, still beginning. In religion they want what in politics they have found, a principle and a basis. Ancient scriptural Christianity, the Christianity of the Epistle to the Romans, would give them the firm rock between the quicksands of sacerdotalism and the floods of infidelity; a rock on which a nation might securely rise to take its place with realms which own no other foundation. But hitherto scarcely a glimmer of light on this matter has appeared among Italian statesmen. They sadly underrate the power of the Curia. The Curia know their weakness, and count upon their fall. To bring it to pass may, they think, take time; but the Pope well knows how to play upon the king for the undoing of the nation. Any ruler who does not in his conscience believe the Pope to be a pretender in his claims to represent God and to rule the universal Church, and who does not believe him to be the worst and greatest corrupter of the Christian religion ever brought to light by time, is in constant danger of risking all by some act of compliance induced perhaps by his religious sentiments, by the remorse of his vices, by the intrigues of the women about him, or by the guile of the ecclesiastics who lie in wait.
For the time being the Vatican is placed at the disadvantage of complicating the general struggle for supremacy with the particular one for the restoration of the temporal power. The ultimate end being now manifestly distant, the whole power of the perfected mechanism is turned to the gaining in detail of the proximate ends which will lead to it. These, roughly stated, are, control over elections, control over the Press, and control over schools. If we take Bavaria and Belgium as favourable specimens of Roman Catholic countries, the priestly power in elections has already become a source of bloodshed, and threatens to be so in continuance. The Catholic and the Liberal parties stand arrayed as two forces, not representing, like our Conservatives and Liberals, two tendencies necessary to balance one another, but two hostile principles one or other of which must perish. In Germany the power of the Pope in elections has proved to be a real not to say a terrible one. In France it was found such at the first election after the war as to be all but sufficient to place the destinies of the country at his disposal for a time. The last general election showed a decided recoil from this danger. In Italy it had come to that point that in municipal elections the moderate party, in several instances, made common cause with the Papal one. But there, again, the last general election has given a result in the opposite direction. The terror which the priests can turn to account in elections is threefold—dread of civil hurt or loss, for which contrivances are manifold; dread of personal violence, which of course supposes a strong Catholic party; and dread of eternal ruin, which the priest of God can inflict for voting against the interests of the Church. Even on Roman Catholics not brought up in the schools of priests, these influences are powerful. What will they become with generations brought up in schools under the new inspiration of the Syllabus?
"In every mode and by every means that is not contrary to our conscience" is the formula expressing the solemn pledges of all Catholics to war against the revolution, or the Modern State. Not merely as to the occupation of Rome, but in its very principles, says the Civiltá, will we oppose it—
We shall fight it with Catholic associations, we shall fight it with the Press, we shall fight it in parliament. We shall confront theory with theory, morality with morality, school with school, the flag of Christ with the flag of Satan, raised by the revolution. Catholic societies where they existed are being multiplied, where they did not exist they are being planted. The number of Catholic members in the Prussian Parliament has increased beyond hope, and in Belgium they have drawn closer together. The struggle against the Austrian ministry which favoured the revolution has grown hotter, and obligations in defence of Catholic principles will be imposed upon the future Members of Parliament of England and Ireland. With whom will be the final victory?—there can be no doubt.[488]
As to the Press, the "work of the 'good Press'" is one of the most meritorious of the many "works" in operation for the new celestial empire. From the great Civiltá, the mainspring of the whole, to the episcopal organ in the remotest diocese, it moves for one end, whether in the form of review, magazine, journal, pamphlet, or book. It represents a literature really prodigious, and is in its own eyes on the high road to supremacy. Of journals it is said that in Germany alone hundreds are subsidized.[489] How far the assertions are true or false we know not, which are frequently made, that the most rabid and blaspheming organs of low and anarchical demagogues are in Jesuit pay; but those assertions in themselves are a serious symptom. In Italy it is often popularly said that there are one hundred and eighty thousand nuns, friars, and priests, all counted. In France of priests alone there are forty thousand. In Germany, as Schulte has shown, in certain cities the ecclesiastical persons, male and female, number from ten per cent. upwards of the adult population. If we extend to the whole Roman Catholic population of the world calculations of an organization on a scale somewhat similar, we cannot do otherwise than regard a Press which controls such a cosmopolitan force as a serious power.
At the same time a twofold weakness of the "good Press" is obvious. First, it does not carry with it the Press which really leads nations, though it runs strong in by-channels of its own. And, again, it tends to change the ignorance of the general Press into knowledge. In Germany this is already done. There the pious and mystic style of the Vatican dialect has ceased to be an unknown tongue. Men of letters and jurists who twenty years ago would have passed over the ecclesiastico-political phrases of a bishop or cardinal as unwittingly as an English Member of Parliament, now read them with luminous and searching insight. Even in England and America a process of self-instruction is rapidly going on in the best journals. Lord Beaconsfield, in Lothair, has shown that he is awake to the social and scenic aspects of the Ultramontane movement, and has displayed more insight into the genealogy of its cult than have the men in this nation to whom the country has a right to look for something better than slipshod arguments, and well-played parodies. Mr. Gladstone has shown himself awake to the national and international, to the moral and political aspects of Ultramontanism. Mr. Cartwright's work on the Jesuits shows that younger politicians are beginning to do the best thing they can do, that is, to study at original sources, and to give solid information. Mr. T.A. Trollope's work on Papal Conclaves shows that all Englishmen are not able in Rome to resist the rational tendency to see the place with unveiled eyes, and to speak of it and its ways in plain English, and that some of those who thoroughly know it are not disposed to enhance the reputation which the English of late years have been earning for love of monkish finery and open-mouthed credence of monkish fables. Perhaps in time some ecclesiastic of a rank, in the religious world, corresponding to that of Lord Beaconsfield and Mr. Gladstone in the political world, may show some grasp of the subject. The relation of our jurists to the movement is hardly so close as to warrant the hope that they will be led to such a study of it as is now manifest among the jurists of Germany. Yet no result is so much to be desired. In fact the whole question belongs much more to the jurist and the politician than to the theologian; although theological ideas are throughout employed as the motive power.
Desirable as is the control of elections and of the Press, still more desirable is that of universities, colleges, and schools, for they now bear within their bosoms the electors and lawgivers, the writers and readers who will hereafter mould statutes and determine the temper of armies as well as their destination. The establishment throughout Europe of universities canonically instituted was, at the commencement of its career, pointed out by the Civiltá as a leading object in the movement it projected. When we trace with Ranke the Papal restoration which in part repaired the great revolt of the sixteenth century, we find that the greatest results of that movement were not won till after a generation or two had passed away. It was only south of the Pyrenees and the Alps that the arms of Charles V and Philip II effectually stayed the Reformation. In central Europe and in France the Bible, the school, and the Reformed Churches continued to spread long after the Council of Trent. When the two princely youths Ferdinand of Austria and Maximilian of Bavaria were still imbibing the Jesuit lessons of Ingolstadt, the memory of Alva had long been execrated in the Low Countries, and the songs of England had long thanked God for the overthrow of the Armada. At the same time imperial cities on the Danube, and castles in Austria, Styria, and Bohemia, were becoming more and more centres of the Reformed doctrine. The decisive check to the spread of that doctrine was not given till education had done its work. Education did not supply the check otherwise than by ensuring the command of the sword. The schoolmaster made the Thirty Years' War. It was the teaching of Ingolstadt that trained Ferdinand to the cool, conscientious, adroit, and unrelenting use of physical force for the greater glory of God. No sooner had the young Archduke begun to rule, than week after week, in one town or another, Styria beheld the repression of the Reformed worship, till with quiet but dreadful strength Ferdinand had shut up every heretical temple, "to the astonishment of all Germany," as Schiller naïvely says. In this manner did he kindle the flame; and at the end of thirty years the Protestantism of Austria, Bohemia, Styria, and other states was no more. This work went on till the revocation of the Edict of Nantes well nigh accomplished for France what had been completely accomplished for Austria by Ferdinand, and for Bavaria by Maximilian.