Chapter 14

The Papacy is too old and too feeble even to die with dignity. Of itself the sight of a falling power, of a dynasy _in extremis_, commands something of respect if not of regret; but the conduct of the Papacy deprives it of the sympathy that is due to its misfortunes. There is a kind of silliness, I know of no better word to use, about the whole Papal policy at the present day, which is really aggravating. It is silly to rave about the martyr's crown and the cruel stake, when nobody has the slightest intention of hurting a hair of your head; silly to talk of your paternal love when your provinces are in arms against your "cruel mercies;" silly to boast of your independence when you are guarded in your own capital against your own subjects by foreign troops; silly, in fact, to bark when you cannot bite, to lie when you cannot deceive. No power on earth could make the position of the Pope a dignified one at this present moment, and if anything could make it less dignified than before, it is the system of pompous pretensions and querulous complaints and fulsome adulation which now prevails at the Vatican. I know not how better to give an idea of the extent to which this system is carried, than by describing a Papal pageant which occurred early in the year.

To enter fully into the painful absurdity of the whole scene, one should bear in mind what were the prospects of Papal politics at the commencement of February. The provinces of the Romagna were about to take the first step towards their final separation, by electing members for the Sardinian Parliament. The question, whether the French troops could remain in Rome, or in other words, whether the Pope must retire from Rome, was still undecided; the streets of the city were thronged with Pontifical Sbirri and French patrols, to suppress the excitement caused by a score of lads, who raised a shout of _Viva l'Italia_ a week before. The misery and discontent of the Roman populace was so great that the coming Carnival time was viewed with the gravest apprehensions, and anxious doubts were entertained whether it was least dangerous to permit or forbid the celebration of the festival. Bear all this in mind; fancy some _Mene, mene, tekel, upharsin_, is written on all around, telling of disaffection and despair, and revolt and ruin; and then listen to what was said and done to and by the Pope on that Sunday before Septuagesima.

Some months ago a college was founded at Rome for the education of American youths destined to the priesthood; there were already an English, an Irish, and a Scotch college, not to speak of the Propaganda. However, in addition to all these, a college reserved for the United States, was projected and established by the present Pontiff. Indeed, this American college, the raised Boulevard, which now disfigures the Forum, and the column erected in the Piazza di Spagna to the dogma of the Immaculate Conception, appear to be the only material products of the Pontificate of Pius the Ninth. For some reason or other, which I am not learned enough in theological lore to determine, the feast of St Francis de Sales was celebrated as a sort of inauguration festival by the pupils of the new college. The Pope honoured the ceremony with his presence; and, for a wonder, a very full account of the proceedings was published in the _Giornale di Roma_; the quotations I make are literal translations from the official reports.

"The day," so writes the _Giornale_, "was in very truth a blessed and a fortunate one, not only for the pupils themselves, who yearned for an opportunity of bearing solemn witness to their gratitude and devotion towards their best and highest father and most munificent benefactor, but also for all those who have it upon their hearts to share in those great works which form the most striking proof of the perpetual growth and spread of our most sacred religion."

Apparently the number of the latter class is not extensive, as the visit of the Pope attracted but little crowd, and the lines of French soldiers who were drawn up on his way to salute him as he passed, were certainly not collected in the first instance by a spirit of religious zeal. The _Giornale_, however, views everything with the eyes of faith, not of "pure reason." Mass was performed at the Holy Church of Humility, and "from early dawn, as soon as the news of the holy father's visit was circulated, an immense crowd assembled there which filled not only the church, but the adjoining rooms and corridors. The crowd was composed of the flower of Roman rank and beauty, and the _elite_ of the strangers residing in Rome, both French, English, and American, who desired the blessing of assisting at the bloodless sacrifice celebrated by the Vicar of Christ, and who longed to receive from his hands the angels' food." I am sorry truth compels me to state, that the whole of this immense crowd consisted of some two hundred people in all, and that the only illustrious personages of special note amongst the crowd not being priests, were General Goyon, the American Minister and Consul, and the Senator of Rome. The Pope arrived at eight o'clock, and then proceeded to celebrate the communion, assisted by Monsignors Bacon, bishop of Portland, U.S., and Goro, bishop of Liverpool. "The rapt contemplation, the contrition of heart, the spirit of ardent faith which penetrated the whole assembly, more especially while the holy father distributed the sacred bread, were all things so sublime that they are easier to conceive than to describe."

After mass was over the Pope entered the college. Above the door the following inscription was written in Latin, composed, I can safely say, by an Hiberno-Yankee pen:

"Approach, O mighty Pius, O thou the parent of the old world and the new, approach these sanctuaries, which thou hast founded for thine American children devoted to the science of the church! To thee, the whole company of pupils; to thee, all America, wild with exultation, offer up praise! For thee, they implore all things peaceful and blessed."

In the hall prepared for his holiness' reception there was hung up, "beneath a gorgeous canopy, a marvellous full-length likeness of the august person of the holy Pontiff, destined to recall his revered features. Around the picture a number of appropriate Latin mottos were arranged, of which I give one or two as specimens of the style of adulation adopted:

"Come, O youth, raise up the glad voice, behold, the supreme shepherd is present, blessing his children with the light of his countenance. Hail, O day, shining with a glorious light, on which his glad children receive within their arms the best of parents!

"As the earth beams forth covered with the sparkling sun-light, so the youths rejoice with gladness, while thou, O father, kindly gladdenest them with thy most pleasant presence!"

Refreshments were then presented to the guests, which I am glad to say were much better than the mottos. The pupils of the Propaganda, who were all present, sang a hymn; addresses were made to the Pope by the pro-rector of the college in the name of the pupils, by Bishop Bacon on behalf of catholic America, and by Cardinal Barnabo, the superior of the Propaganda, all of them in terms of the most fervent adoration. Each of the American pupils then advanced with a short poem which he had composed, or was supposed to have composed, in expression of the emotions of his heart on this joyful occasion, and requested permission to recite it. At such a time the best feature in the Pope's character, a sort of feeble kindliness of nature, was sure to show itself. I cannot but think indeed that the sight of the young boyish faces, whose words of reverence might possibly be those of truth and honesty, must have given an unwonted pleasure to the worn out, harassed, disappointed old man. "The holy father," I read, "receiving with agitated feelings so many tokens of homage, was delighted beyond measure." When the English poems were recited to him, he called out, "can't understand a word, but it seems good, very good." He spoke to each of the lads in turn, and, when he was shown the statue of Washington, told them to give a cheer for their country, to cry _Viva la Patria_ (the very offence, by the way, for which ten days before he had put his own Roman fellow-countrymen into prison), and then when the boys cheered, he raised his hands to his ears, and told them laughingly, they would drive him deaf. Now all this is very pleasant, or in young-lady parlance, very nice, and I wish, truly, I had nothing more to tell. I trust, indeed, that the long abstinence from food (as a priest who is about to celebrate the communion is not allowed to touch food from midnight till the time when Mass is over, and in these matters of observance Pius IX. is reputed to be strictly conscientious) or else the excitement of the scene had been too much for the not very powerful mind of the Pontiff; otherwise I know not how you can excuse an aged man, on the brink of the grave, to say nothing of the Vicegerent of Christ, using such language as he employed.

"After much affectionate demonstration, the Holy Father could no longer restrain his lips from speaking, and, turning his penetrating glance around, spoke as follows," in the words of the _Giornale_:

"One of the chief objects of the most high Pontiffs has ever been, the propagation and maintenance of the faith throughout the world. Their efforts therefore have always been directed towards the establishment of colleges in this sovereign city, in order that the youth of all nations, who would have to preach the faith in the different Catholic countries, might receive their education here. In the foundation then of this new college, he had only followed in the steps of his illustrious predecessors. It thus seemed to him that he had rather performed a simple duty, than an act deserving praise. After his Holiness had pointed out, what a great blessing the faith was, how indeed it was a true gift of Heaven, the sole solace and comfort vouchsafed to us throughout the vicissitudes of fortune, he then expressed his extreme distress, that in these days, this very faith should be made an especial object of attack, and added that this fact alone was the cause of his deep and profound dejection. There is no need, he stated, to refer now, to the prisons and tortures and persecutions of old, when we are all witnesses to the onslaught which is now being made against the Catholic faith and against whosoever seeks to maintain its purity and integrity. There was no cause however for wonder: such from the cradle had been the heritage of the faith, which was born and bred amidst persecution and adversity, and which under the same lot still continues its glorious progress. The Gospel of the day recalled this truth only too appropriately; although his Holiness continued in the midst of persecution, it was his duty only to arm himself with greater courage, yet the grief of his heart was nevertheless rendered more bitter still, by beholding that in this very peninsula--so highly privileged by God, not only endowed with the faith, and with possessing the most august throne on earth,--that even here, the minds and hearts of men were hopelessly perverted. No, his fears were not caused by the arms or armies, or the forces of any power, be it what it might. No, it was not the loss of temporal dominion, which created in his heart the bitterest of afflictions. Those who have caused this loss must, alas! bear the censure of the Church, and must henceforth be given over to the wrath of God, as long as they refuse to repent, and cast themselves on His loving mercy. What afflicted and terrified him far more than all this, was the perversion of all ideas, this fearful evil, the corrupting of all notions; vice, in truth, is taken for virtue, virtue counted for vice. At last, in some cities of this unhappy Italy, men have come to make in truth an apotheosis of the cut-throat and the assassin. Praise and honour are lavished on the most villainous of men and actions, while at the same time endurance in the faith and even episcopal resolution in maintaining the holy rights of that faith, and its provident blessings, are stigmatized with a strange audacity, by the names of hypocrisy, fanaticism, and perversion of religion. He then went on to say, that now, more than ever, it was high time to take vengeance in the name of God, and that the vengeance of the priesthood and the Vicariate of Christ Jesus consisted solely in prayer and supplication, that all might be converted and live. That, moreover, the chief of all these evils was only too truly the corruption of the heart and the perversion of the intellect, and that this evil could only be overcome by the greatest of miracles, which must be wrought by God and interceded from him by prayer. After this, the Holy Father, in language which seemed inspired, as though he were raised out of himself, exhorted all present, and especially the young men destined to carry the faith to their distant countries."

Even amongst the audience, who all belonged more or less to the Papal faction, the intemperate and injudicious character of this speech, delivered in the presence of the French commander-in-chief, and the allusions which could not but be intended for the Emperor Napoleon, Cavour, and Victor Emmanuel, created great consternation, and was but coldly received. The _Giornale_ however reports, that "where his Holiness, with agitated voice, bestowed his apostolic benediction, awe and admiration could be read on every countenance; all hearts beat aloud; and no eyelid was left dry. The whole assembly pressing forward, bent in turn before the august personage, touching, some his hands and some his dress, while others again cast themselves at his feet, in order to impress thereon a reverent and affectionate kiss."

After having examined the building, the Pope went on foot to the neighbouring convent of the Augustine nuns, called "The Convent of the Virgins," the whole of the religious community were "permitted to kiss the sacred foot," and then "having comforted the virgins with paternal and loving words," he returned to the Vatican, past the files of French troops, through the beggar-crowded streets, amidst cold, sullen glances and averted obeisances, back to his dreary palace, there to wait wearily for orders from Paris.