The Roman Question | Page 3

that they more readily pardon the wretch who cuts a man's
throat, than the imprudent citizen who blames an abuse.
That the Pope, and the Priests who assist him, not having been taught
accounts, grossly mismanage the public finances; that whereas
maladministration or malversation of the public finances might have
been tolerated a hundred years ago, when the expenses of public
worship and of the papal court were defrayed by one hundred and
thirty-nine millions of Catholics, it is a widely different affair now,
when they have to be supported by 3,124,668 individuals.
That they do not complain of paying taxes, because it is a universally
established practice, but that they wish to see their money spent upon
terrestrial objects; that the sight of basilicas, churches, and convents
built or maintained at their expense, rejoices them as Catholics, but
grieves them as citizens, because, after all, these edifices are but
imperfect substitutes for railways and roads, for the clearing of rivers,

and the erection of dykes against inundations; that faith, hope, and
charity receive more encouragement than agriculture, commerce, and
manufactures; that public simplicity is developed to the detriment of
public education.
That the law and the police are too much occupied with the salvation of
souls, and too little with the preservation of bodies; that they prevent
honest people from damning themselves by swearing, reading bad
books, or associating with Liberals, but that they don't prevent rascals
from murdering honest people; that property is as badly protected as
persons; and that it is very hard to be able to reckon upon nothing for
certain but a stall in Paradise.
That they are made to pay heavily for keeping up an army without
knowledge or discipline, an army of problematical courage and
doubtful honours, and destined never to fight except against the citizens
themselves; that it is adding insult to injury to make a man pay for the
stick he is beaten with. That they are moreover obliged to lodge foreign
armies, and especially Austrians, who, as Germans, are notoriously
heavy-fisted.
To conclude, they say all this is not what the Pope promised them in his
motu proprio of the 19th of September; and it is sad to find infallible
people breaking their most sacred engagements.
I have no doubt these grievances are exaggerated. It is impossible to
believe that an entire nation can be so terribly in the right against its
masters. We will examine the facts of the case in detail before we
decide. We have not yet arrived at that point.
You have just heard the language, if not of the whole 3,124,668 people,
at least of the most intelligent, the most energetic, and the most
interesting part of the nation. Take away the conservative party,--that is
to say, those who have an interest in the government,--and the
unfortunate creatures whom it has utterly brutalized,--and there will
remain none but malcontents.
The malcontents are not all of the same complexion. Some politely and

vainly ask the Holy Father to reform abuses: this is the moderate party.
Others propose to themselves a thorough reform of the government:
they are called radicals, revolutionists, or Mazzinists--rather an
injurious term. This latter category is not precisely nice as to the
measures to be resorted to. It holds, with the Society of Jesus, that the
end justifies the means. It says, if Europe leaves it tête-à-tête with the
Pope, it will begin by cutting his throat; and if foreign potentates
oppose such criminal violence, it will fling bombs under their carriages.
The moderate party expresses itself plainly, the Mazzinists noisily.
Europe must be very stupid, not to understand the one; very deaf, not to
hear the other.
What then happens?
All the States which desire peace, public order, and civilization, entreat
the Pope to correct some abuse or other. "Have pity," they say, "if not
upon your subjects, at least upon your neighbours, and save us from the
conflagration!"
As often as this intervention is renewed, the Pope sends for his
Secretary of State. The said Secretary of State is a Cardinal who reigns
over the Holy Father in temporal matters, even as the Holy Father
reigns over a hundred and thirty nine millions of Catholics in spiritual
matters. The Pope confides to the Cardinal Minister the source of his
embarrassment, and asks him what is to be done.
The Cardinal, who is the minister of everything in the State, replies,
without a moment's hesitation, to the old sovereign:--
"In the first place, there are no abuses: in the next place, if there were
any, we must not touch them. To reform anything is to make a
concession to the malcontents. To give way, is to prove that we are
afraid. To admit fear, is to double the strength of the enemy, to open