13th June, 1904.

THE storm of words aroused the world over by a Papal diplomatic Note is another proof that the Papacy has lost none of its power and prestige, and is still, on this threshold of the twentieth century, the incarnation of moral power opposed to mere brute force, the right of the strongest. In reading the many silly comments on this Note in different parts of the globe, we are reminded of the brick thrown into the frog-pond and the emotion it caused.

Long before M. Loubet went to Rome it was well known that he would not be received by the Vatican, and the Papal Note is practically the same as the one drawn up by Leo XIII on a previous occasion, when it was sought to obtain a deviation from the policy of the Vatican in favour of a predecessor of M. Loubet. The protest itself contained nothing new, and was merely a reiteration of Papal claims to sovereignty in Rome, and a notice to rulers of other Catholic countries that there was no change in the policy of the Vatican, that declined to receive the visit of any such ruler who came to Rome as the guest of Victor Emmanuel.

The long session devoted to the discussion of the incident was merely a little anti-clerical diversion to kill time; otherwise the Papal Note would have remained pigeon-holed in M. DelcassÉ’s desk, where it had lain unheeded for weeks, when suddenly, at the psychical moment, M. JaurÈs’ new Ministerial organ, l’HumanitÉ (commanditÉe by the Jews), published the copy of the Note which had been addressed, it is said, to the King of Portugal. Then the little comedy was enacted at the Palais Bourbon, and the whole Socialist Ministerial Press clamoured, hysterically, for condign punishment of the Vatican and the vindication of the national honour. But nothing was done. M. DelcassÉ declined to state clearly if the ambassador to the Vatican, M. Nisard, had really been recalled, while M. Combes loftily sneered at “the superannuated claims of a sovereignty dispossessed since thirty-five years.” Yet he must have learned at the Seminary that the Papacy was exiled from Rome for eighty years once upon a time.[5] But all these ferocious Radicals declined to take advantage of this opportunity to denounce the Concordat, and M. Combes’ best friend, The Lantern, is now denouncing him as a traitor and a fraud. History is repeating itself: La Montagne (the Extreme Left of 1793) is getting ready to execute the Girondins called Radicals to-day. No efforts of opportunism will save them from the guillotine sÈche which awaits them.

The silly talk of some of the great dailies who represent the Pope as “greatly worried” and confronted with the necessity of making an apology, can only be excused on the ground of ignorance of the whole situation. Personally I desire to see the Concordat denounced. The letter and the spirit of its first and most important article, which provided for liberty and the free exercise of the Catholic religion, have been flagrantly violated by the laws of 1901 and 1904, and by the illegalities committed by the executors of these laws.

All that remains of the Concordat is the indemnity paid yearly to the Catholic Church, as a very slight compensation for the millions stolen by the revolutionary government of 1792, known as the First Republic. Though it must be said to the credit of those Jacobins that when they instituted the budget of cults they recognized that they had taken the property of the Church, and that the payment of these yearly subsidies was part of the National Debt.

The Jacobins of to-day, less scrupulous than their forefathers of 1790, are craving for the repudiation of this portion of the National Debt.

The untold wealth of the Congregations, the billions held out as a glittering lure by Waldeck Rousseau in 1900 as a nest-egg for retraÎtes ouvriÈres, having melted into thin air “the bloc” or Ministerial majority must be held together by the prospect of some new quarry. Those, who for years past made a fine distinction between the secular clergy and the regular or congrÉganist clergy are now convinced that there is no distinction to be made between them. When New York dailies kindly advise the French clergy and Catholics to give up what their editors are pleased to call “their salaries” and adopt the American system, they merely proclaim their ignorance of the situation.

The French would gladly sacrifice everything, even to the noble church edifices built and endowed by their ancestors during long centuries, if thereby they could secure liberty and separation from the State, as they are understood in the United States. But all the alleged projects of “Separation” are merely projects of strangulation. The articles of all these projects of law are as unacceptable as were those of the Trouillot Associations Bill, even if it had not been superseded by the table rase of the law of 1904 suppressing all teaching orders whatsoever.

The carrying into execution of any of these projects of “Separation,” even the least Jacobin, would render the normal existence of the Catholic Church in France impossible. This has been the aim and purpose of the Third Republic ever since its advent. For, once again, I repeat that Republicanism in France is not a form of government; it is the modus operandi of a secret society, of the same secret society which established a monarchy in Italy, in order to have a pretext for seizing Rome and destroying, if possible, the prestige of the Papacy. In both cases the object was the same, the weakening and the destruction of the Church.

The Freemasons in France openly proclaim that they founded the Republic. The scholar and anti-clerical laws since twenty-five years, all the laws, in fact, have been prepared in the lodges. Of this, too, they make no secret. To suppose that the Chambers in any way represent the French nation is an egregious mistake. The lodges prepare the elections; their candidates people both Houses. In my first letter to the Review in 1900 I showed how the abstention of honest laborious Frenchmen from politics had thrown the power into the hands of the Freemasons, who are chiefly Jews, Protestants, and infidels. To-day this coterie of about twenty-five thousand reigns supreme.

A few resolute, capable, bigoted Freemasons are the master minds of the coterie; the others, “the bloc,” just follow suit. If a current of reaction set in to-morrow they would glide with it most gracefully.

It is simply impossible to retrieve the situation in France to-day by any ordinary legal means. To suppose that the people are in sympathy with the Government because they do not overthrow it implies total ignorance of the situation. The voting machinery of the country is falsified, and can no more be relied on than a clock out of gear, which rings out the hours haphazard. Even if every Frenchman inscribed as a voter did his duty and went to the polls, which they do not, it would make no difference to-day.

If death had not cut short Waldeck Rousseau’s career we might witness a machine en arriÈre policy. It is even possible, now, that a moderate Rouvier-Ribot ministry may succeed the Combes despotism.

But I have no confidence in any palliatives. The evil is too deep-seated. Only by blood and anguish can France be redeemed, and the sooner the crisis comes the better; a few years later it may be too late. This is why I desire the denunciation of the Concordat, for with Gambetta, and all his anti-clerical successors, I think it may be the ruin of the Third Republic.

Excommunications and interdicts are no longer published as in former days, but they operate nevertheless. And, as in the past, there is always some ruler ready to execute the mandate; though this, too, is not done in the same way. There is not, necessarily, any invasion of territory.

Germany and Italy (yes, and England too) are keenly awaiting the moment when they may seize France’s birthright. Both are assiduous in their marks of deference to the Holy See. Victor Emmanuel would gladly evacuate Rome to-morrow if he dared. Thirty-five years are the mere twinkling of an eye in the lives of nations. Yet there are simple-minded people who look upon the Piedmontese occupation of Rome as an immutable fact.