Pius IX. And His Time

Chapter 2

Chapter 24,009 wordsPublic domain

The amnesty, although far from being everything, was, nevertheless, a beginning, and one of favorable omen. The furrow was opened, to use the language of M. Rossi, and no doubt the ploughing would proceed. Many formidable difficulties must, however, be surmounted. On the one hand, stood the influence of the old feudal Conservative party, which frowned on the slightest change. On the other, were the Socialists, who aimed at the destruction of every existing institution—in whose estimation property even was not sacred, nor life itself. It was necessary, meanwhile, to improve the condition of the people, and, in doing so, to guard against anarchy. By wise and well-considered reforms only could the growth and advance of revolution be discouraged and stayed, whilst a political system, almost entirely new, came to be firmly established. For this purpose, it was necessary that there should prevail in the Pontifical States a sounder state of opinion. This was not the work of a single day. It was necessary, nevertheless, as the people could not be safely led by their ever-changing emotions. Based on such quicksands, the government of the Holy Father could have no stability, and it was his aim so to form it that it should be able to keep its ground without the aid of foreign arms. The state of Italy, the peculiar position of the Pontifical States, the character of modern civilization, the spirit of the age—all conspired to produce new wants, and, at the same time, made it a matter of the greatest difficulty to meet them. “This difficulty,” writes the Spanish Sage, Balmes, “it was impossible to surmount by chanting patriotic hymns any more than by having recourse to Austrian bayonets.”

By none was this better understood than by Pius IX. The study of State affairs was not new to him. He had considered and lamented the condition of things which so often brought upon his country foreign invasion, the horrors of war, and punishments without end, inflicted on his fellow-citizens. It is related even that he prepared and presented to Gregory XVI. a programme of reforms, which he believed would bring the necessary remedy. Now that he was at the head of the State, he believed that the responsibility devolved on him of introducing such reforms as were called for by the exigency of the time, and by which alone he was persuaded the evils which oppressed the country could be brought to an end. It was not possible, as yet, to inaugurate any general measure of reform. In the meantime, however, the rule of the Pontiff was characterized by wise, just, humane and liberal acts, which could not fail to pave the way for the greater improvements which he meditated. Among these lesser, but by no means unimportant, reforms may be mentioned the abolition of an odious law which had long disgraced the legislation of so many Christian nations. The punishment by imprisonment for petty debts was, in the estimation of Pius IX., as unjust as it was cruel and hateful. It answered no better purpose, for the most part, than the gratification of private spite. By a generous contribution from his own funds, the Pope threw open the prisons of the Capitol. He set a great example, which could not fail to promote the cause of virtue whilst it relieved the indigent, by distributing twelve thousand Roman _ecus_, in the form of dowries, among the young women of poor families, whose poverty rendered an honorable settlement extremely difficult. He also encouraged collections in favor of such of the amnestied parties as were in need. His financial reforms were more important. And by these he won a title to the gratitude of the State. The public revenue was alarmingly deficient. Only by some great change could ruin be averted. First of all, he proposed that his faithful clergy should make a sacrifice; and every convent engaged to pay ten _scudi_ yearly, and every parish priest a _scudo_ during three consecutive years. He himself set the example of the most rigid economy by reducing the scale of his establishment. He at the same time retrenched those rich sinecures which were, so to say, engrafted on the temporalities of the Papacy. What was well worthy of a great statesman, he showed the most enlightened sympathy for all the sciences which contribute to the material and intellectual well-being of the populations, such as physiology, natural history, political economy and mathematics. Nor was he unwilling that his people should avail themselves of the knowledge of foreigners. He went so far as to intimate his intention to re-establish the celebrated Scientific Academy, _Di Lincei_.

He could not, as yet, by any other than such isolated acts as these, evince the elevated and liberal tendencies of his mind, in which were blended boldness with moderation, and views of reform with all that became his position, and was adapted to the wants of the country and the age.

Pius IX., although not a constitutional sovereign, and unable so to constitute himself, was anxious, nevertheless, to give to his people all the benefits of constitutional government. A first step was to choose a popular Minister, and Cardinal Gizzi was called to the counsels of the State. This Cardinal was beloved at Rome, and not undeservedly. When Legate at Forli, he had opposed the establishment of an arbitrary court, and thus won for himself the sympathies of all national reformers. His loyalty, sincerity and patriotism were well known; nor was he wanting in any other quality of the statesman. Of a patient and enquiring mind, he was incapable of coming hastily to a decision; but, when once resolved, he could not be easily diverted from his purpose. The ministry of such a man was full of promise; but in this lay its weakness. It held out hopes which, in the state of parties which at that time prevailed, it was unable to realize. There were two great parties at Rome, with neither of which the Gizzi ministry was in sympathy. There existed no party with which it could act harmoniously. There were no reformers. It would have been most fortunate for Pius IX. if such a party could have been formed, but the elements were wanting. The true idea of constitutional government was as little understood in Italy as in the rest of continental Europe. The only party at Rome who desired change were the Socialists, who identified reform with subversion, who denied every right, and sought the destruction of all existing institutions. No wonder if, in presence of such a faction, the aristocracy, so highly conservative, dreaded and opposed all change. The Socialists, whilst by the fear which they inspired strengthened the hands of the conservative party, opposed and prevented the formation of a body of reformers who, like Gizzi and Pius IX., would have labored intelligently to forward the cause of reform, never losing sight of the great principles of humanity and justice, never sacrificing to Utopian theories inalienable rights, above all the rights of property—the very groundwork of the social fabric. Without the aid and countenance of a body of reformers, the able ministry that now surrounded the Pope found it difficult to proceed. They could not determine for any important constitutional change. They could not even undertake any considerable improvement.

They were, however, not inactive. They studied to educate the people by improving and extending the public schools, and by what was, indeed, an advance in continental Europe—establishing a periodical press.

There were few cities so highly favored as Rome as regards the facilities for educating youth. Nevertheless, there was room for improvement, and Pius IX. accordingly established in the city a central school for the instruction of the youth of the operative classes. This was a school of arts and manufactures, and, at the same time, a military institution, in which the pupils were qualified to become either tradesmen or subordinate officers in the army. Whilst Cardinal Gizzi was Minister many other useful schemes met the approbation of the Pontiff, and were sanctioned by his signature.

Not a few commissions also were appointed—some for the study of railway communication in the Roman States, others for the improvement of both criminal and civil procedure, and others for the amelioration of the municipal system and the repression of vagrancy.

Rome, so richly endowed in many respects, could scarcely be said, as yet, to possess a periodical press. To establish such a press was, for the reforming ministry, a labor of love. Whilst they were preparing a law by which it should be called into existence and its liberty secured and regulated, Pius IX., in anticipation of their labors, authorized the publication of several journals. First, came the “Contemporaneo,” which was followed in due time by the “Bilancia,” the “Italico,” the “Alba.” These publications were in sympathy, at first, with the Pontiff and his reforming ministry. They advocated only rational reform, real improvement, such changes as were both practicable and useful. They had not yet discovered the excellence of the Socialist utopia. Their enthusiasm and their _vivats_ were all for the reformer Pope.

It is far from being matter of surprise to Catholic people, at least, that the See of Rome should be the first to practice the virtues—the high morality which it teaches. In regard to their treatment of the Jewish people, the Christian nations generally stood in need of such an example as Papal Rome has always shown in her consideration for the race of Israel. The nations, although professing Christianity, have been anything but Christian in their conduct towards these people. It was their idea, one would say, that they were called of heaven to execute justice on an offending race. The Popes never believed that they or any other Christians were entrusted with such a mission. Accordingly, the Jews, when cruelly persecuted in other countries, always found protection and safety at Rome under the wing of the Pope. Even such restrictions as they were subject to, contributed to maintain them in security and peace. The Holy Father, although it was his sublime mission to preach the Gospel, could not always cause its precepts to be obeyed. If prejudice was against living on terms of charity with the Jews, was it not kind, as well as wise and politic, to assign to them a quarter of the city where only they should dwell, free from all interference on the part of the rest of the inhabitants? Pius IX. believed that the time had come when a more liberal arrangement might be advantageously adopted. In pursuance of this conviction, he regulated that the Jews should enjoy the privilege of establishing their habitations wherever they should deem it most suitable, that they should be governed by the same laws as the other citizens, and in no way be treated as a foreign people. Such of them as stood in need of assistance Pius IX. admitted to a share in his benefactions, and without occasioning the slightest murmur on the part of his Christian subjects.

The Jews, whilst considered as foreigners in Rome, were subject to the custom of coming yearly to the Capitol to pay tribute. With this custom the Holy Father generously dispensed. All this liberality and kindness were highly appreciated. The Jewish people generally beheld in the wise and Holy Pontiff the looked-for Messiah. The aged Rabbins, more considerate, affirmed only that the Pope was a great prophet. The chief of the Synagogue, Moses Kassan, composed in his honor a canticle marked by poetic inspiration. It extols and blesses the Holy Father for having gathered together in the same barque all the children whom God had confided to his care ... for having snatched from the contempt of nations, and sheltered under his wing, a persecuted people.

There being many Christians of the United Greek rite throughout the dominions of the Sultan, it was necessary that the Holy Father should negotiate, occasionally, with the successor of Mahomet. Pius IX. yielded not to any of his predecessors in zeal for the welfare of all Catholic people. Those who lived and often suffered under the Moslem yoke were, especially, objects of his fatherly solicitude. Policy had not yet brought the Cross into the same field of strife in union with the Crescent, when, on the 20th of February, 1847, the portals of the Quirinal were thrown open to the Ambassador of the Sublime Porte. To the Jews the Rome of Pius IX. was as a new Jerusalem. Islamism, from its tottering throne at Constantinople, looked towards it with hope and rapture.

The armed protection of Christians in the Turkish dominions, by the great European Powers, was, no doubt, galling to the Sultan’s court. It was, therefore, ardently desired, we can readily believe, to place the Christians of the Levant under the peaceful guardianship of the Roman Pontiff. The Embassy may also have had other objects in view. Be this as it may, it was new and quite extraordinary to behold the representative of the prophet at the palace of the Sovereign Pontiff. No wonder if all Europe was moved to admiration. The presentation was very solemn—in the high ceremonial of Eastern lands. Chekif Effendi, the Turkish Ambassador, saluted the Holy Father in Oriental style, and addressed to him a magnificent oration, which was richly interspersed with metaphors—the pearls and diamonds of his country’s eloquence. The Sublime Porte was compared to the Queen of Sheba, and Pius IX. to King Solomon. Whatever may be thought of the figures, the sentiments expressed in the speech were appropriate and affecting. The Pope replied by assuring the Ambassador that he was anxious to cultivate friendly relations with the Sultan, his master. Three days later Chekif Effendi took his departure from Rome, bearing with him on his breast, as a _nishun_ (decoration), the portrait of the Holy Father.

This Embassy was more than mere show—more than an interchange of friendly sentiments. It enabled the Pope to adopt a measure which was calculated to be highly beneficial to the Christians of the East. The Latin Patriarchate of Jerusalem was restored. And thus was accomplished a wonderful revolution in European diplomacy as regarded the Eastern world. At the request of the Porte, the Latin Patriarch became bound to reside in the city of Jerusalem. In the confidential position which he held there, he was the natural protector of the Catholic subjects of the Sultan. In addition to the duties of his sacred office, he was, as a consul, appointed by the Holy See to watch over the interests of religion—interests as important, surely, as those of trade and worldly policy. The first whom the Pope named to the dignity of Latin Patriarch was Monsignore Valergo, who had formerly been a missionary at Paris.

There appears to have been something irresistibly attractive in the character of Pius IX. That illustrious champion of Ireland and of liberty, Daniel O’Connell, resolved, towards the close of his days, to visit Rome and pay the homage of a kindred spirit to the Holy Father. Not only was he anxious to be enriched with the choicest heavenly benedictions, whilst kneeling reverently at the shrine of the Apostles, but he desired also, with a fervor which finds place only in the most nobly-moulded souls, whose love of liberty and whose patriotism are unfeigned and pure, to hold communion with one who was, no less than himself, a friend of liberty, and whose exalted station, and whose high duties towards mankind at large, hindered him not from laboring, as did Ireland’s patriot, to liberate his country, not, indeed, from such cruel bondage as that under which the land of O’Connell had for so many ages groaned, but from the no less dangerous tyranny of abuses which, like weeds that grow most luxuriantly in the richest soil, it becomes necessary, in due season, to extirpate.

It was not, however, appointed that Ireland’s liberator should ever see Rome. His illness continued to increase. No sooner had he reached the shores of Italy than the strength of his once powerful frame declined rapidly, and he was unable to proceed. Arrived at Genoa, O’Connell understood that his last hour on earth was near at hand. He now expressed the wish that his heart should rest in the Holy City. Thither, accordingly, it was borne by friendly hands to commingle with the consecrated dust of heroes, saints and martyrs. To Rome it was a relic of incomparable price. Although cold and inanimate, it was still eloquent in death, and grandly emblematic of all that he had been to whom it was the centre of life, and to whose generous impulses it had so long and so faithfully beat responsive.

That son of O’Connell who bore his name, together with the Rev. Dr. Miley, of Dublin, who had accompanied him to Genoa and ministered to him in his last hours, now proceeded to Rome and sought the presence of the Holy Father. On their arrival at the Quirinal, the halls and ante-chambers were already filled with groups of personages in every style of costume, from the glittering uniform to the cowl. The travellers, therefore, must wait till all these have had an audience. But no. The name of O’Connell, as if possessed of talismanic power, caused them to be at once admitted to the presence of the Holy Father. The reception was most cordial. “Since the happiness I had so much longed for,” said the Pontiff, “was not reserved for me, to behold and embrace the hero of Christianity, let me, at least, have the consolation to embrace his son.” “As he spoke,” writes Dr. Miley, “he drew the son of O’Connell to his bosom and embraced him, not unmoved, with the tenderness of a father and a friend. Then, with an emotion which stirred our hearts within us, this great Father of the faithful poured out his benign and loving soul in words of comfort, which proved that it was not new to him to pour the balm of heaven into broken and wounded hearts.” “His death,” said the Pontiff, “was blessed. I have read the letter in which his last moments were described with the greatest consolation.” The Pope then proceeded to eulogize the liberator, as the great champion of religion and the Church, as the father of his people and the glory of the whole Christian world. “How else,” observed Monsignore Cullen, late Cardinal Archbishop of Dublin, who was present, “could the Pope have spoken of him than he has done, even if he had been the bosom friend of the liberator, as well as the ardent admirer of his career.” Nor must we fail to record the terms in which the venerable Pontiff, on this memorable occasion, referred to Ireland. The thought of O’Connell was one with that of his native Erin. Death, even, could not sever them. Whilst the living image of grief and bereavement stood in his presence, the Holy Father could not refrain from giving expression to his paternal sympathy. But, at the same time, the country of O’Connell was not forgotten. Writes Dr. Miley: “While he spoke of the sufferings of the Irish, of their fidelity, of his solicitude and his hopes regarding them, it was beautiful and impressive beyond my power to describe, to observe that countenance, which, like a mirror, reflects the charity, the compassionate care, the fortitude, with a hundred other sentiments divine, which are never dormant within his breast.”

Pius IX., anxious that due honor should be done to the memory of O’Connell, gave orders for the celebration of a solemn funeral service, and intimated his will and command that it should be celebrated in his name. “The achievements also of his wonderful existence I desire to be commemorated and made known to the world”—not that this is necessary, “because,” said the Pontiff with a sublime look and gesture, “his grand career was ever in the face of heaven—he always stood up for legality—he had nothing to hide; and it was this, with his unshaken fidelity and reverence for religion, that secured his triumph.” It is only justice to the people of Rome to state that they vied with the Sovereign Pontiff, the magnates of their country and the representatives of European nations at the Holy City, in doing honor to the memory of O’Connell. “From the Campus Martius,” writes Dr. Miley, “and the Roman Forum, from both sides of the Tiber, and from all the seven hills and their interjacent valleys, this people, who grow up from infancy with the trophies of thirty centuries of greatness around them on every hand, assembled with enthusiasm to supplicate heaven for the eternal happiness of Ireland’s liberator, and to exult in the wonders he had achieved, as if he had been their own.” The greatest homage paid by Rome on this melancholy occasion, was undoubtedly, the funeral oration, which was spoken by the Bossuet of Italy, the celebrated preacher, Father Ventura, the friend and fellow-student of Pius IX. This most eloquent discourse was listened to with attention and delight by the vast congregation that had gathered round the cenotaph of the immortal patriot. Let a passage or two here suffice to give an idea of the magnificent panegyric:

“It is, then, because these two loves—the love of religion and the love of liberty, common to all good Princes, to all great minds, to all truly learned men, to all elevated souls, to all generous hearts might be said to be personified in Daniel O’Connell—because in him they manifested themselves in all the perfection of their nature—in all the energy of their deeply-felt conviction—in all the potency of their strength—in all the splendor of their magnificence, and in all the glory of their triumph; it is because of all this that this singular man—who was born and has lived at such a distance from Rome—is now admired, is now wept for by you, as if he had been born in the midst of you. Hence it is that this great character, this sublime nature, has awakened all your sympathies.”

O’Connell had studied for some time at the College of St. Omer, in France. What he saw and learned in that country is ably described by the Italian orator:

“He saw with his own eyes monarchy compelled to degrade itself, and to inflict its death-wound with its own hand; he saw the throne that base courtiers had dragged through the mire defiled by the grip of parricidal hands, and buried, fathoms deep, beneath a sea of blood; he saw the best of kings expire upon a scaffold, the victim not less of other men’s crimes than of his own weakness; he saw that vice was hailed, as if it were virtue, wickedness uplifted, as if it were morality atheism, proclaimed aloud, as if it were religion; that the ‘Goddess of Reason’ (or rather a vile strumpet) was recognized as the only Deity, and honored with hecatombs of human victims; the people decimated and oppressed by cruel tyrants, in the name of the people; whilst beneath the shade of the tree of liberty was instituted universal slavery; and that the most Christian, as well as the most civilized of all nations, had fallen down to the lowest limits of impiety and barbarism.

“Now, God having so disposed that the young O’Connell should be witness of these events—the most celebrated and the most instructive to be found in the annals of history—they served to inspire him with the greatest horror for tumults and rebellion; they persuaded him that there is nothing more insane, and, at the same time, more pernicious than to proclaim the rights of man, in trampling upon those of heaven—in establishing liberty on the ruins of religion—in making laws, under the dictation of passion, or through the inspiration of sacrilege—and, finally, they convinced him, that to _regenerate_ a people, religion is omnipotent—philosophy of little or no avail.”