Chapter 35

The great success of William I. in the Franco-Prussian war appears to have so elated that monarch that he considered there was nothing which he might not successfully undertake. He had annexed to Prussia some of the lesser States of Germany, and made a German Empire. The Church in Germany enjoyed many privileges and immunities under his predecessors, who, for the most part, were, like himself, Protestants. Whether it was that he desired to show himself a better Protestant than his ancestors, or that he could not emancipate himself from the control of the minister who had so long guided, with singular success, the destinies of the empire, as well as his own career, or that he believed it to be a political necessity to act according to the views and carry out the principles of the German and European “Liberals”—the party of revolution and unbelief—he resolved to oppose no impediment to his chancellor and the liberal majority of parliament in their endeavors to destroy the Catholic Church in Germany, unless it chose to become as a mere department of the State, acting and speaking in the name of the State, receiving its appointments from the State, as well as the funds requisite for the support of its ministers, accepting all its orders and instructions, even in the most spiritual things, from the State; in fine, looking to the State as the sole source of all its authority, honor, power and influence. There was nothing like the German Empire. It had conquered in gigantic wars with two Powers that were considered the greatest in continental Europe. It had attained a degree of power and greatness, scarcely if at all inferior to that of the first Napoleon, and, like Napoleon, it aimed at more. It sought, like him, to have the Church, no less than the police courts, in every respect, in all circumstances and on all occasions, completely at its orders. This ill-judged ambition accounts for the long list of oppressive laws which were enacted at Berlin for the enslavement of the Catholic Church. They are known as the “May Laws,” all of them having been passed, although not in the same year, in the month of May. Dollinger, Hohenlohe and the rest of the anti-Catholic Bavarian _coterie_, deluded the Emperor and his minister with the idea of an independent German _alt_, or Old Catholic Church. They sold their country to the new empire, politically. But they could not sell its church. One of these _alt-Catholics_, Dr. Schulte, recommended persecution as the surest means of eradicating the ancient church. “Let his twenty thousand florins be withdrawn from such a one, his twelve thousand thalers from such another; let the salaries of the bishops and chapters be suppressed, and the result will soon be manifest. The humbler clergy will rejoice. Since 18th July, 1870, there has been neither belief in Christ nor religious conviction among the bearers of mitres and tonsures.” Thus was the Prussian minister led to imagine that he had only to transfer the benefices of the Catholic dignitaries to the _alt-Catholics_ in order to constitute an independent German Church, which would unite the whole of Germany religiously, as he had already united it politically. All Catholics, of course, would be members of this new Church. The State Protestantism of Prussia would, in due time, join this State Church, and there would be, if not one Faith and one Baptism, one Church and one State.

The calculations of Chancellor Bismarck were, however, at fault. He soon discovered that the clergy were grossly calumniated, and that the _alt-Catholic_ Church in which he trusted never counted more than thirty priests; that this number increased not, and that the hundreds of thousands of adherents of whom the pseudo bishop, Reinkens, boasted, were only some twenty thousand to thirty thousand, scattered over all Germany. These had no principle of cohesion. They could not agree as to any fundamental point of religious doctrine or discipline. According to a census made in 1876, they numbered only one hundred and thirty-six, in a population of twenty-five thousand Catholics, at the city of Bonn, which M. Reinkens had selected as the seat and centre of his episcopal ministrations. Meanwhile, there was a considerable reaction in prevaricating Bavaria. The Catholic minority was changed into a majority, and the Prussian Catholic representation, which was called the fraction of the centre, was strengthened at the elections of 1874 by an increase from twenty-five to forty votes. The chancellor, although enlightened, was not corrected. Nothing could divert him from his evil purpose. By a strange confusion of ideas, he called _Kulturcampf_ (struggle for civilization) the open war which he waged against the Church, the source of all civilization and of liberty of conscience. The persecuting laws which, with the aid of the so-called “liberal” party, or party of unbelief, he succeeded in causing to be enacted were to the following effect. As was to be expected of the blind political fanaticism of the party, the Jesuits were the first objects of hostility, and the first victims of persecution. The May laws required that these unoffending individuals should be expelled without any form of trial, and deprived of their rights of citizens. At the same time, certain religious orders which, it was pretended, were affiliated with the Jesuits, were subjected to the like treatment.

All ecclesiastical seminaries were suppressed, the solons of legislation pretending that it was necessary to oblige the candidates for the priesthood to imbue their minds in lay schools, with the ideas and wants of modern society.

The new laws abolished articles fifteen, sixteen and eighteen of the Prussian Constitution, which guaranteed the autonomy of the different forms of worship; they bestowed on the State the nomination to ecclesiastical functions, and went so far as to forbid bishops the use of their right to declare apostates excluded from the Catholic communion.

They suppressed the subsidies and allowances which the State, until that time, paid to the diocesan establishments and the clergy generally, notwithstanding that such subsidies were not gratuitously bestowed by the government, but were nothing else than, as in France and Belgium, the restitution, in part, of the debt due by the State to the Church. It was provided, however, that such members of the clergy as should make their submission should at once have their salaries restored. By a refinement of cruelty, all collections and subscriptions, whether public or private, for the requirements of public worship and the support of the clergy were forbidden, and elective lay commissions were charged with the management of all ecclesiastical property. Finally, all religious orders, as well of men as of women, were suppressed, with the exception, and that provisionally only, of such as were devoted to the care of the sick.

If Chancellor Bismarck really believed, at any time, that the Catholic clergy were without faith and conscience, ready to submit to any terms the State might impose, in order to save their incomes and the institutions of the Church, he must have been greatly surprised when he found them all, without exception, prepared to welcome poverty, imprisonment and exile, rather than abandon the inalienable rights of conscience. On the 26th May, 1873, the Bishops of Prussia signed a collective declaration, in which they stated, with regret, that it was impossible for them to obey. “The Church,” said they, “cannot acknowledge the heathen state principle, according to which the laws of the State are the source of all right, and the Church possesses only such rights as it pleases the State to grant. By so doing, it would deny its own Divine origin, and would make Christianity wholly dependent on the arbitrary will of men.” In regard to temporal matters connected with the Church they could afford to be less strict: and so they authorized their people to take part in the election of the new lay managers of the properties of the churches. This wise policy was attended with the most happy results. The chancellor’s plans were everywhere completely marred. He had reckoned that the Catholics would abstain from voting, and so allow a “liberal” (infidel) minority, however small, to dispose of the churches and presbyteries.

In reviewing the news of the day, we have been accustomed to think of only one or two more eminent prelates suffering under the lash of persecution. The truth is, that the whole Church suffered. The persecution was as cruel as an age which does not permit the shedding of blood would tolerate. The bishops were crushed with fines on account of each act which they performed of their spiritual office. Such fines they refused to pay, lest they should acknowledge the justice of their condemnation. Their movable property, accordingly, was seized and sold at auction, and they themselves were immured in the prisons, where they were mixed up with felons condemned to the same labors, and designated, like them, by numbers. It was all in vain. Nothing could shake their constancy. At Berlin was erected a sort of ecclesiastical tribunal, which arrogated to itself the power of deposing from sees, and which actually pretended to depose the Archbishop of Posen, the Bishop of Paderborn, the Prince-Bishop of Breslau, and several other prelates. The fortresses of Germany were filled with priests, whose only crime was that they _obeyed God rather than men_. The public ways were crowded with priests who had been deprived, afterwards _interned_, and finally banished. Numerous religious people, both men and women, were in the like sad position, thronging the road of exile. The people, in tears, escorted these victims of heathenish rage. They chanted, as they went, the psalm, “_Miserere_,” and the canticle, “_Wir sind ini waren Christenthum_” (“we are in true Christianity”), until they reached the railway depots. The Prussian gensd’armes, who were often no more than two or three in number, were astonished to find that they could so easily conduct their prisoners, whom thousands and tens of thousands of other men, the greater number of whom were veteran soldiers, accompanied, as they passed, expressing their regrets and good wishes.

Persecution is impolitic no less than it is cruel and immoral. The German people, to say the least, were shocked by the tyranny of their government. Nothing could prevent them from showing what they felt and thought, on occasion of the release of the prisoners at the end of their two years’ term of imprisonment. They took every possible means of expressing their satisfaction. Thus, at Munster, when Bishop Warendorf returned, the inhabitants paid no attention to the prohibition of the burgomaster, who, by order of the government, intimated that he would repress, by force, every external and public demonstration. The whole city rushed to the gate, St. Mauritius, by which the released prisoner was to enter. Count Droste-Erhdroste proceeded to receive him in a magnificent carriage, drawn by four horses, which was followed by four more carriages in charge of his servants, who were in complete gala dress. An immense crowd strewed flowers along the route as the bishop advanced, and ceased not to hail him with joyous acclamations until he reached his residence, where the first families of the country were in attendance to receive him. In the evening, the whole town, with the exception of the public buildings, was illuminated. The citizens of Posen were preparing a like triumphal reception for their archbishop, Cardinal Ledochowski, on occasion of his release in February, 1876, from the fortress of Ostrowo, where he had been incarcerated for two years, when he was carried off in the nighttime and transported beyond the limits of his diocese, in which he is forbidden ever again to set foot. Two suffragan bishops were left behind. They also were imprisoned at Gnesten, one for having administered the Sacrament of Confirmation without special leave from the government, the other for having consecrated the holy oils on Maunday Thursday, 1875. By such acts, which evidently belonged to the spiritual order, they were held to be guilty of sedition and a violation of the rights of the State.

The whole Catholic world was deeply moved by this modern and unprovoked persecution. All could not speak, indeed; but all were in sympathy with the clergy and faithful people of Germany. The bishops of France would have brought war upon their country by uttering a word of disapproval. The irascible chancellor actually sought to raise a quarrel with that country on account of a slight and inoffensive allusion which fell from the lips of two of the bishops. Could he not see that he will be branded throughout the ages as a persecutor and a short-sighted politician? Great Britain and America could speak without fear or hindrance. And they were not slow to send their words of consolation and encouragement to their suffering brethren of Germany. The Cardinal-Archbishop of Westminster wrote in a strain which may be described as apostolical, to the Archbishop of Cologne, the Primate of Germany, greeting “with the greatest affection both himself and his brethren, the other bishops who are in prison for having defended the authority and liberty of the Church.” This letter was reproduced by all the newspapers, and could not have escaped the notice of the Prussian minister. Nevertheless, he was silent. Although sensitive in the extreme, as regarded France and Belgium, his knowledge of geography and naval statistics, no doubt, enabled him to possess his soul in patience.

Pius IX. could not but feel for his afflicted children of Germany. He was moved, accordingly, to address a very earnest remonstrance to the Emperor, William I. This was done so early as August, 1873. He could not believe that such cruel measures proceeded from a prince who had so often given proof of his Christian sentiments. He had even been informed that his Majesty did not approve of the conduct of his government, and condemned the laws which were enacted against the Catholic religion. “But, if it be true that your Majesty does not approve of these measures (and the letters which you formerly addressed to me appear to me to prove sufficiently that you do not think well of what is actually taking place),—if, I say, it is not with your sanction that your government continues to extend more and more those repressive measures against the Christian religion which so grievously injure that religion, must you not come to the conclusion that such measures can have no other effect than to undermine your throne?” He may possibly have thought so, when, a little later, his life was attempted by parties who are known to seek the destruction of religion and civil government at the same time. Be this as it may, his reply to Pius IX. was not in his usual kindly style. It was scarcely polite, and appeared to be the work of the savage chancellor rather than of the good-natured monarch.

The appeal of Pius IX. produced no result. The Emperor’s government added to the harshness of his refusal by advising him to address a letter of congratulation to the new bishop of the _alt-Catholics_. This was done, as was expressed, “on account of his complete deference to the State and his acknowledgment of its rights.” In another letter, which was also made public, William I. recalled to mind those ancient Emperors of Germany who were the irreconcilable enemies of the spiritual supremacy of the Popes, and intimated that he was resuming the work of Frederick Barbarossa and Henry IV. The association was unfortunate. The chancellor’s commentary was more so. “We shall never,” he boasted, “go to Canossa!” These words, spoken before the assembled parliament, were a defiance of Divine Providence. Was it forgotten that there were other snows than those of Canossa, in which Emperors could perish? The first Napoleon pursued, in regard to the Church, the same policy that Germany was now pursuing. He defied the religious power, and contemptuously asked _whether the arms could be made to fall from the hands of his soldiers_! They did so fall, nevertheless, when the demented Emperor led his legions into the snows of Russia.

Pius IX. could not behold without concern the deep distress of his brethren in Germany. He addressed an Encyclical letter, under date of 5th February, 1875, to the Bishops of Prussia, lamenting the persecution which tried them so severely, dwelling at great length on the evils of the _May laws_, praising the constancy of the clergy, and exhorting them to continued patience and perseverance. The whole doctrine of the Encyclical may be said to be expressed in the following words:

“Let those who are your enemies know that you do no injury to the royal authority, and that you have no prejudice against it when you refuse to give to Cæsar what belongs to God; for it is written, ‘_We must obey God rather than men_.’ ”

This eloquent letter, like everything else that was done in order to mitigate the most trying persecution of modern times, remained without any other result than to afford some comfort to the clergy of the afflicted Church of Germany.

Pius IX., in order to show still further his appreciation of the constancy under persecution of the German clergy, conferred the dignity of Cardinal on Archbishop Ledochowski, who courageously accepted the proffered honor. The persecuting government prevented him from ever enjoying it in his diocese, by condemning him to perpetual banishment. This was, at least, an approach to the cruelty practised on Fisher, the illustrious English Confessor, who was consigned to the Tower of London because he would not sanction the divorce of Henry VIII., and acknowledge the Royal Supremacy in questions of religion. The Pope of the time sent him a cardinal’s hat. But the enraged king took care that he should never wear it by cutting off his head. The time was past when blood could be shed in hatred of the truth, even by so hard a tyrant as the Prussian minister. In the nineteenth century, however, as well as in the sixteenth, there would not be wanting those who would resist unto blood for religion’s sake.

It was comparatively an easy matter to deprive and banish the legitimate pastors, but not quite so easy to find priests so unprincipled as to become their successors. The politic chancellor, apparently, had not thought of this beforehand. In the course of five years he could find only two ecclesiastics who would consent to accept benefices at his hands. All those on whom he might have counted for establishing a schism in the Church had already joined, with all the encouragement which the minister could bestow, the _alt-Catholic_ sect, which, as has been shown, was destined to prove a failure. It is almost superfluous to say that the parishioners studiously avoided all communication in things spiritual with the nominees of the State. Meanwhile, the faithful people were not left destitute. Zealous young priests from the seminaries visited them privately at their houses, and ministered to their religious wants. Such as so acted were arrested and conducted to the frontier. They returned by the next railway train. They were then cast into prison. As soon as they were free they returned to the post of duty. There was in Germany a revival of the Primitive Church—of the zeal and self-sacrifice of the apostolic age. All this was met by the closing of the seminaries, the severest blow that had, as yet, been struck against the cause of religion. The chancellor, nevertheless, was not successful. The newspapers in his interest, which he designated as the _reptile press_, laughed at his short-sightedness. He had counted on accomplishing his purpose by some six months of persecution. Generations would not suffice. The endurance of the Church is unconquerable. It is as an anvil which wears out many hammers. That which Chancellor Bismarck applied, so vigorously, will prove to be no exception.(11) Southern Germany, it is a pleasure to record, abhors the ridiculous _Kulturkampf_ of Chancellor Bismarck. Louis II., of Bavaria, would fain follow in his wake. But, as is shown by the large Catholic majorities at the elections, he is not seconded, even passively, as in Prussia, by the Bavarian people. The persecution, attended by its essential results, is rendering all Germany more Catholic than ever. When its work shall have been accomplished, what will remain? The Church or the _Kulturkampf_?

In the meantime many innocent persons must suffer: many time-honored institutions will have been swept away: in the pursuit of an ideal civilization, and by means of cruelties unworthy of an enlightened age, many monuments which owed their origin to the superior civilizing power of Christianity will have disappeared forever. In addition to all this, feelings hostile to the Church, and prejudices hurtful as they are groundless, are everywhere created. Pius IX. complained of this unfortunate state of things, when he said (10th January, 1875): “The revolution, not satisfied with persecuting Catholics in Prussia, excites, on both sides of the Alps, those governments which profess to be Catholic, but which have only too plainly led the way, in the shameful career of religious oppression. It excites them to persist, more boldly than ever, in the work of persecution, and these governments execute its behests. God will arise, some day, and, addressing the Protestant oppressor, he will say to him: Thou hast sinned—grievously sinned; but the Catholic governments, on all hands, have still more grievously sinned. _Majus peccatum habent._”

ITALY—EDUCATION.

At the time of the Piedmontese invasion, there were in the city of Rome, one hundred and sixty-eight colleges or public schools.

The number of schools was twenty thousand, whilst the whole population of the city was two hundred and twenty thousand. The pupils are classed as follows, according to the statistics of his Eminence the Cardinal-Vicar, in 1870:

Students, boarding in seminaries and colleges: 703 Students, day scholars, gratuitously taught in the schools: 5,555 Students, day scholars, who paid a small fee: 1,603 Total: 7,941

Girls, boarding in _refuges_: 2,986 Girls, day scholars, gratuitously taught: 6,523 Girls, day scholars, who paid a small fee: 2,871 Total: 11,380

General total: 19,321