Having reached this practical point in the teaching of Boniface VIII, the writer goes on to show that Peter was not told to cast his sword away, but only to put it up into the sheath; which clearly meant that he was to bear it. If he was reproved for using it, that was because, though he had asked permission to do so, he had not yet received it; for, in fact, at that point of time, the supreme power promised to Peter had not been actually bestowed upon him. But seeing that he was told to keep the sword, are we to suppose that when he did become ruler, he and his successors for all time were to keep it hanging at their sides, as a useless weight? Certainly not; "he beareth not the sword in vain." The writer would probably have called any one an infidel who expected a literal fulfilment of the words "all they that take the sword shall perish with the sword."
In reviewing the reception given in the East to the Bull, consolation was drawn from the fact that the Armenian Patriarch in Constantinople had raised the brief to his forehead. But the Catholikos of the same Church in the See of Etschmiazin rejected it with decision. The ill-success of these overtures displeased the "good Press." Pius IX had been flattered into the belief that he had in great measure "restored" the ascendancy of the Pontiff over the East. Even Archbishop Manning had said enough in print to show that he came back from Rome in 1867 with some such idea, and prelates of more experience had done the same.
Representations as to the readiness of Protestants to submit, had led to the letter to Protestants. Bishop Martin of Paderborn had strong hopes of those in Germany, and set store by some odd letters, said to be from Protestant clergymen, which, however, seem to be either spurious, or from men not likely to lead anybody.[110] Archbishop Manning, after several sentences coloured by a pontifical imagination, had said, "The Council of Trent fixed the epoch after which Protestantism never spread. The next General Council will probably date the period of its dissolution."[111]
Between the date of the Bull of Convocation and that of the invitation to the Orientals, the Pope performed two journeys to the Alban Hills, which were celebrated by Court journalists. At Rocca di Papa, where Hannibal is said to have pitched his tents, the little army of his Holiness was, after modern usage, encamped. The Pontiff went on purpose across the Campagna and up the hills, passed through the ranks of his defenders, and himself celebrated Mass for their benefit. When his next birthday was celebrated, the zouaves made a special display in the Piazza of St. Peter's, of which the Civiltá gives a long but lively description. The last formation mentioned is to us new in military evolutions. The zouaves "formed so as to make the letters composing the august name Pius IX."[112]
Ever since 1860 the preaching of "taking up the cross," of the glory of "dying for religion," and of the pure, bright martyrdom of falling on the field for St. Peter, had been rather heavy work. Now the gleam of victory at Mentana lighted up the future. Vistas long and luminous led the eye of the fighting sons of Loyola away to other scenes, where John VIII as Admiral, or John X as General, or Pius V rejoicing over Lepanto, with other martial glories of the Papacy, paled before what the Virgin and St. Michael were about to bring to pass. Loud and ringing sounded forth to the faithful the call to the crusade of St. Peter. The youth of the Catholic world were assured that not the fall of Richmond nor the capture of Sebastopol, not Solferino nor Sadowa, had moved human society as did the tidings from Mentana. Stories true and often very touching were mixed with fables and with ecstasies.
The tales were those of youths from the noblest houses and from the lowliest cots. The young Duke de Blacas "dedicated his sword to the tomb of St. Peter, as his forefathers dedicated theirs to the tomb of Christ." In his death youths are to see the martyr palm for which it is noble to pant, and mothers are to see a privilege which they might well seek in prayer. Peter Jong, a poor Dutch lad, only son of his mother, a widow, who gave him up rejoicing as if God had granted her great grace, fell, it is said, after having slain fourteen Italians. He receives this tribute: "For St. Peter he inflicted many just deaths; for St. Peter he worthily met his own." It is told how the King of Holland keeps Jong's photograph in his portfolio, and shows it to other intending crusaders as an encouragement. Another Dutch youth writes: "Mamma, blessed is he who sheds the last drop of his blood. The martyrs of all the centuries descend to meet him and to conduct him to heaven." This, though Protestants may not know it, is spiritual warfare! for "to defend the Church of Christ is a spiritual object." One proof constantly alleged that bayonet and ball used for St. Peter are to re-establish truth and righteousness is, "This is the victory that overcometh the world, even our faith."
The young Duke de Blacas, not having been in action, seemed in dying to think that he should not escape purgatory. Care, however, is taken, in a studiously written biography of a Goldoni who also died before battle, to show that in point of martyrdom, as to the old crusaders, no difference was made by St. Bernard and St. Catherine of Siena between those who died in battle and those who died in the service. Also, that no difference had been made between these two classes of the crusaders of St. Peter by Pius IX. He had comforted a father who regretted that his son had not fallen in battle, by telling him that he had "the supreme" consolation, because the son had died in the service of the Holy See. And he had, in his solemn Allocution, compared both classes alike to the martyred Maccabees. The father of Goldoni, pictured as a devout and humane physician, is represented as often putting up the prayer for his only son, "Oh that God would inspire him to take up the cross!" Young Goldoni was a diligent reader of the Unitá Cattolica and the Civiltá, from which "sources of religious and of pure intellectual culture he drew a generous and daring spirit." Though he died unhappily before battle, his biographer sees him seated among the celestial martyrs, between the Duke de Blacas and the Count Zileri de Verme, with whom do rejoice and glory others who died at a distance from the fight. When Goldoni received his "call" to the crusade, he started in haste. "It seemed as if the Spirit of God carried him." The Archbishop of Modena specially blessed "our young crusader." He then received the Sacrament, and so "heart to heart with Jesus Christ consecrated his life to Holy Church." Moreover, in parting, "the young cavalier of Jesus Christ put upon his bosom, as if a breastplate, an image of Mary." The night before leaving home he, "in the manner of the old crusaders," knelt at his father's knee and asked his blessing. While the father "shed upon him the holy water and the prayer," Antonio burst into weeping.
Arrived in Rome, Goldoni sought a Jesuit to "govern his soul." The Jesuit made allusion to the dangers of his new life. "I have made up my mind to be a martyr for the Holy See," replied Goldoni. "The Holy Father has declared the temporal power necessary to the spiritual. Therefore, fighting and dying for the temporal power, I should indirectly be a martyr for our holy religion." The Jesuit was overcome at hearing these generous sentiments from a youth so superior. Two days after, the Jesuit and Goldoni met "in the tribunal of penitence."
Goldoni soon caught a fever, and in the hospital often confessed. On the Feast of St. John Berchmans[113] he declared that he had obtained from the saint the grace to be with him in Paradise on the day of the Assumption of the Virgin. He reiterated that he should on the day of the Assumption go to heaven to see the Madonna and St. John Berchmans. His good father, called from Modena, arrived in time to bless and pray for his departing Antonio. At the last moment he left him, for it would seem that those around thought that the presence of the earthly father would come between him and the heavenly Father. So he lay, with his lustrous eyes fixed on heaven, as if, says the chaplain, "he was awaiting the appearance of his John Berchmans, who was to present him at the throne of the great Virgin." At seven o'clock on the morning of the Assumption he passed away.
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