Continued from The Papacy And The Civil Power – Chapter XIV. The Native Britons Part 1.

Into what a condition of humiliating degradation, therefore, was England dragged down when the nation and people were laid at the feet of the papacy! It was the price of her obedience to papal despotism—the result of the Christianizing (!) influence of Rome upon her Saxon kings!

But it was impossible to destroy the attachment of the native Britons for their ancient religion, for that form of Christianity which they believed to have been derived from the apostles, as it was also impossible to break their courage. They and the Saxon common people had mingled together until, by association and intermarriage, their former prejudices had been worn away, and they now constituted a peaceful and homogeneous society. They had acquired all the leading characteristics necessary for a new and more vigorous nationality. The Britons imparted to the Saxons some of their ideas of religion and Christianity, while the Saxons, in return, imparted to them some of the principles of civil government they had brought with them from the valleys of the Elbe, the Eyder, and the Rhine.

Yet they were held in tight subjection by their princes, who were themselves held in equally tight subjection by the popes. The people were surrounded on every side by remorseless oppressors, and had to rise up, under this tremendous weight, by slow degrees, and through sufferings it would require many volumes to detail.

The Saxons belonged to the Teutonic, or Germanic, stock, and differed essentially from the Latin race, which clung to the shores of the Mediterranean. Having succeeded, as early as the fourth century, in resisting the aggressions of the Roman empire, they formed a confederacy, which laid the foundation of their “progressive greatness.” (“History of the Anglo-Saxons,” by Sharon Turner, vol. i., p. 132.)

Although overwhelmed by the armies of Charlemagne, their influence was never entirely eradicated, and their distinctive principles were preserved through every variety of fortune. These principles have always been, from the date of their first confederation, “singularly propitious to human improvement.” (Ibid., vol. i., p. 135.)

At the time of their settlement in England, they had their chiefs, or war-kings, who were carefully held in subjection to the popular power; and when they elected a king, “their consent in the gemote (a public meeting or local judicial assembly in Anglo-Saxon England) continued to be necessary to the more important acts of his authority;” (“History of the Anglo-Saxons,” by Sharon Turner, appendix to bk. ii., vol. i., p. 183.) thus showing that they were not then governed without their own consent, even by their kings.

Their religion was pagan; yet after their conquest of England there is no evidence that they ever interfered with that of the native Britons until after their kings yielded to the influence of Rome! We have seen that the religion of these native Britons was at no time eradicated after the first introduction of Christianity, but, on the other hand, that it was preserved and cherished by the people. Hence, as the Saxons found Christianity there, it was impossible that they could have escaped its influence, as it was also impossible that the Britons could have escaped the Saxon influence. The common people had no motive to prompt them to engage in the work of exterminating each other; and to assert that they did so, except when constrained to it by the policy of their kings and the dictation of the popes, is utterly incredible. And it is not at all probable that any others than those who composed the respective armies ever engaged in this work. Indeed, there is little in history more certain than that the body of the people—Britons and Saxons—especially in the remote districts, mingled together in friendly association, so as to impress each other with their respective sentiments and opinions. By this kind of influence they became, at last, molded into one people; and there is much in their subsequent history to show that each imparted to the other principles and elements of character which still impress Anglo-Saxon institutions wherever they exist, and distinguish them from those which have been erected by the Latin race.

It cannot be doubted that the Saxon idea that the people were the source of even the kingly power, was readily accepted by the native Britons, who yet knew nothing about hereditary kings, or their divine right to govern. Nor can it be doubted that after the Saxon kings had become obedient servants of the popes, they labored assiduously to eradicate this principle, which had been inherited by the Saxon people from their Teutonic ancestry. These kings were captivated at once with the idea that they got their power from God, through the pope, and not from the people; for they could easily understand, ignorant as they were, that if the people could make, they could also unmake, kings. And hence they became ready and willing converts to the papal teaching—to a doctrine which confirmed their power to them. They cheerfully accepted a religion so congenial to their tastes—so necessary as the means of promoting their ambition. Rome has always understood well how to teach this to kings; and the latter have generally been apt and submissive pupils—quick to learn, and slow to forget.

There is no satisfactory evidence anywhere that the body of the Anglo-Saxon people ever assented to the doctrine of the divine right of kings, until it was taught as a part of the religious system of Rome, and imposed upon them by force. There is abundant evidence, however, to show that the partial and interrupted dominion of the Northmen in England, which continued for more than two centuries, was unable to destroy the early Anglo—Saxon influences. On the contrary, these influences remained impressed upon the popular mind, and were occasionally exhibited in the struggles of the people to throw off the yoke which their kings, in obedience to the popes, had fastened on their necks. But whatever may have been the result, in the natural course of events, of the mutuality of intercourse and sentiment between the native British Christians and the Saxons, they were, in the end, brought completely and compactly together under a common nationality, and jointly exhibited those qualities which achieved their triumph in all their contests with the kingly and papal power. And when they succeeded in ultimately creating the English nation, they so stamped it with their common sentiments and opinions, that in its wonderful progress it has absorbed even its conquerors, until, in this day, the whole world is influenced by its laws, its language, and its character.

The Norman conquest under William the Conqueror carried into England a fresh supply of papal influences. At the death of Edward the Confessor, Harold became king, by the almost unanimous consent of the nation. He was elected by the Witan, with the full approbation of the people, “in the exercise of their ancient and undoubted right,” and was “acknowledged as king by every earldom and every shire in England. He was king, alike by the will of his predecessor, by the choice of his people, by the consecration of the Church, by the homage of the thegns (aristocrats who ranked at the third level in lay society, below the king and ealdormen) and prelates of England.” (“The Norman Conquest,” by Freeman, vol. iii., pp. 21—70; Thierry, vol. i., p. 152.)

But William, Duke of Normandy, set up a claim to the throne based upon pretexts which, if they had been valid, would have conferred upon him no right whatsoever under the laws of England. He pretended that Edward had made to him a gift of the English crown before the selection of Harold as his successor, and that Harold had violated his oath to marry his daughter and to pay homage to him. William was a devout son of the Church, and submitted willingly to the direction of the great Lanfranc, Prior of Bec, and the foremost man in the Church of Normandy. Whether the plan was concerted by both of them, or originated in the fertile brain of the latter, is of no consequence; but it was agreed that William should submit his claim to the decision of the pope; that is, that the pope alone should decide who should be king of England, without any regard to the wishes of the people or the authorities of the nation.

The pope at that time was Alexander II., but “the power behind the throne” was the great Hildebrand. While any other foreign power on earth would have refused to decide such a question, yet the papal court did not hesitate to take jurisdiction of it, on the ground of possessing the divine right to dispose of crowns and kingdoms. It was of no consequence to inquire what the English people desired. They were incompetent to decide what the law of God required or forbade. Of that law the pope was the exclusive earthly custodian, as Pope Pius IX. still claims to be, and his jurisdiction was derived directly from God!

It marked “a distinct epoch in the history of European politics, when, for the first time, the occupant of the apostolic throne was called on to adjudge a disputed diadem.” (Freeman, p. 317.)

The ambassador of William, an ecclesiastic, was sent to Rome to plead his cause. No notice of the proceeding was given to Harold. But the trial went on. The pope was told that William “craved the blessing of the Holy See upon his righteous cause,” and if he succeeded would “hold of God and of the apostle the kingdom which he hoped to win.” One side only was heard. Harold had no advocate there to defend him against his Norman assailant. England had not submitted the disposal of her crown to such a tribunal, and recognized no right but her own to give or take it away. But the interest of England was not the question to be discussed or decided. The only question considered by that papal tribunal was—what did the interest of the papacy require to be done? The ambitious Hildebrand saw that the occasion was one for the establishment of a precedent, which would enable the papacy thereafter to dispose of all other crowns; and his counsel triumphed. A decree was passed, declaring Harold to be a usurper, and William of Normandy to be the lawful claim ant of the English crown!

Harold and his followers were excommunicated, and William was authorized to go forth as an avenger of Heaven. He was required to teach the English people “due obedience to Christ’s vicar,” and, what the papacy never forgets, “to secure a more punctual payment of the temporal dues of his apostle.” (Ibid., p. 320.)

A costly ring, “a hair of the prince of the apostles,” and a consecrated banner were sent to William, in order that it might appear that his “fraud and usurpation” had the sanction of Heaven. Every blessing held in store by the Church was conferred upon William, and the terrible thunders of anathema were hurled at the head of Harold. (Ibid., p. 321; Thierry, vol. i., p. 159.)

While it is apparent that Pope Alexander II. had in all this the double motive of subjugating England to the papacy, and of giving greater strength and universality to its power, yet there is something behind it which the sagacious (having sound judgment) mind of Hildebrand could not have failed to discover. Although previous popes had employed the Saxon kings for the advancement of their ambitious designs, it was easy to see that it would not be safe to rely too much upon the Saxon and British people, who now, by several hundred years of intercourse, had become molded into one. The Teutonic stock never furnished good materials for slavery; and, therefore, the papal policy was so directed as to place England in the hands of those more closely allied to the Latin race. Hence, the preference given to, and the pontifical blessing bestowed upon, William of Normandy—a part of France. And hence, also, we find that, after the Battle of Hastings, and before William had reached London, the Romnish clergy went out to meet and congratulate him because he marched under the consecrated banner, was accompanied by the papal blessing, and was “well disposed to the Church.” (*)

But little more was necessary to make the conquest of England complete. It was soon done, and William placed the crown upon his brow, in the name, not of the people of England, who were not consulted, but of the Holy See of Rome. He had enforced with arms the decision of the pope, and had brought England down, in degradation, to the feet of the papacy.

Although William and other kings of the Norman line had some fierce controversies with the popes, about investitures and other kindred questions, yet they constantly and actively endeavored to eradicate all the Saxon influences in England, as far as possible, and substitute for them those of Norman origin; that is, to bring the country under the influence of the principles prevailing among the people of the Latin race, in preference to those of Teutonic origin. The popes, in order that the victory in these controversies might be won, and, at the same time, to keep the kings within their grasp, conducted them, on the part of the papacy, with marked sagacity. They made a merit of necessity whenever it forced them to submit to firm and resolute princes, in order that thereby they might preserve their strength for the more complete control of the weaker ones. And when they succeeded at last in having their legates recognized in England, they were enabled to place by the side of the king a power sufficiently great to keep the nation bound fast to Rome; and to war, by the aid of the Normans, more successfully against all the liberalizing influences of the Anglo-Saxons.

The popes, however, needed a more efficient instrumentality than any they had yet possessed to bring about the complete subjugation of the English people. This was the introduction of celibacy among the English clergy. It was considered absolutely necessary to the perfect working of the papal system, that there should be organized a compact body of ecclesiastics, destitute of all those generous sympathies which grow alone out of the family relation, that they might be the better fitted to do the work of the popes. Notwithstanding sacerdotal celibacy finds no sanction among the early Christian fathers, and is directly opposed to the example of Peter and a majority of the apostles, (*) yet its introduction, as a matter of policy, was a display of great sagacity.

The experience of mankind has demonstrated that there is no other place around which so many of the most ennobling sentiments continually cluster as the domestic hearth—stone; and that those who cherish in their hearts the kindly affections of home and kindred are the last to yield to such dictates of inhumanity as have been often exhibited by those who have built up and maintained the papacy. Therefore, the celibacy of the Roman clergy has been, since its introduction, considered one of the most effective means of establishing the supremacy of the popes; and for this purpose the attempt was made to introduce it into England, after the Norman conquest.

The pope then desired—as the present pope also does—to set apart the clergy from the body of the community, as a privileged class, with power to govern themselves by laws of his and their own enacting, independently of the civil power and the laws of the State. The English clergy were, at first, unwilling to give up their wives. Pope Gregory VII. (Hildebrand), during the reign of William the Conqueror, had a decree passed by a council at Rome forbidding them to marry. The clergy resisted it—for many of them had wives. A synod was called to consider the question, but it did not adopt the decree. A compromise was agreed upon with the pope’s legate, to the effect that those who had cures (pastoral charge of a parish) in the cities should put away their wives, while those who had benefices (ecclesiastical office) in the country should be allowed to retain them; but that none should be thereafter admitted to orders before they had sworn that they would not marry, thus showing that celibacy is a mere measure of expediency and involves no religious principle.

The imposition of this restraint had the effect of preventing competent men from taking orders, and inflicted serious injury upon the character of the clergy. Pope Pascal II., to remedy this—showing, at the same time, how pliant the principles of the papacy are when an important result is to be obtained—decided not to execute the canon rigorously in England, and granted a dispensing power to the Archbishop of Canterbury. But this prelate was less accommodating than the pope, and procured the condemnation of marriage by the decree of a London synod. Pope Honorius II. had to send one of his cardinals to England to see that it was executed. When he reached there, he, as legate, convened a council, wherein he denounced the married clergy in violent terms; saying, among other things, that “’twas a horrible crime to rise from the side of a harlot, and then to handle the consecrated body of Christ.”

That night, after this impious and vulgar assault upon one of the tenderest and most endearing relations of life—a relation sanctioned by the example of the Apostle Peter himself—this pure- minded (!) cardinal, fresh from Rome and the side of the infallible Honorius II., “was caught in bed with a common woman!” (Rapin, vol. ii., p. 420.) Of course, his precepts had but little effect against an example such as this, and other efforts were rendered necessary.

Some years after, another council was held, when it was considered necessary to give the power of enforcing the canon to the king—a duty which he readily undertook. Like the popes in the use of their dispensing power, he employed his authority to raise his royal revenue “by selling to the priests a dispensation to keep their wives!” (Rapin, vol. ii., p.420.) But, not withstanding all these difficulties, celibacy finally became the absolute law of the Church in England, as elsewhere. The papal Caesar needed his corps of ecclesiastical subordinates, as completely devoted to him as were the commanders of the Roman legions to the pagan Caesars. Each struggled for absolute dominion, and the example of one was followed by the other. Rome, with each, was the central seat of empire— the ” mistress of the world.”

Having, by these means and the politic use of the benefices and honors of the Church, caused the clergy to center all their affections upon the papacy, the popes were enabled to persevere in their schemes to aggrandize their power to such an extent that they compelled the disgraceful and humiliating surrender of the crown to them by King John. Pope Innocent III. resolved that the Archbishopric of Canterbury should be filled by Cardinal Langton—who, though an Englishman, had received a foreign education in France without regard to the wishes or consent of the king. John firmly resisted this for a while, and the pope, to punish him, placed the kingdom under interdict, so that divine service ceased in all the churches, the sacraments were withheld, public prayers were forbidden, and the church—yards were closed—the dead being thrown into ditches, like dogs, without any funeral ceremony. (Ibid., vol. iii., p.193.)

The king, in retaliation, treated the clergy with severity, and was at last excommunicated by the pope. John remained unmoved, until the controversy became one involving simply, on one side, the triumph of the king; on the other, that of the pope—neither party having the slightest regard for the interest or welfare of the people, and both king and pope entirely subordinating the peace and quiet of the Church to their own personal ambition for supremacy.

The pope finally sent two nuncios to England, with whom John was persuaded to agree that some ecclesiastics he had banished should be permitted to return, that the privileges of the Church should be restored, and that Langton should be confirmed as Archbishop of Canterbury—thus yielding to the pope everything he had desired at the beginning of the quarrel. But he yielded too readily, and displayed so little real courage, that Innocent III. was too bold a politician not to take immediate advantage of it. His manifest object was to humiliate the king, and reduce the kingdom to entire submission to himself, so that he could bring all the people under ecclesiastical government, with Rome as the seat of all authority. Therefore he demanded that all that had been taken from the clergy should be restored and full damages paid—when he knew that it was impossible for the king to do either. John being compelled to refuse, the pope pronounced another sentence of excommunication against him, and took immediate steps to stir up a revolt against the Government, by endeavoring to increase the dissatisfaction already existing among the people. The occasion was one which displayed the toweling ambition of Innocent III., and developed, in a most striking degree, the character of the papal policy, which, under like circumstances, would be developed in the same way today or tomorrow.

Pretending that the refusal of the king to do what he knew he had no power to do was rebellion against his authority as God’s vicegerent, he fulminated a terrible bull, absolving the English people from their allegiance to the crown, and commanding them, upon pain of excommunication, no longer to obey their king!(*)

An event so remote as this would seem, at first glance, to have no special relation to the present times; but when it is observed that Innocent acted under a claim of divine right and of infallibility, and that the present pope sets up precisely the same claim, it is of the highest importance that the principle upon which he based his supposed right to release the English people from their allegiance to their own Government should be well understood.

What Innocent III. then did in England, Pope Pius IX. undoubtedly thinks he has the power and right to do in all the governments now existing. For that purpose the late Lateran Council enacted the decree of infallibility. In ascertaining this principle of papal usurpation we are not confined to Protestant authority. It is distinctly avowed by one of the most distinguished Roman Catholic authors—one whose “History of England” is recommended to the faithful in the United States.

Lingard, referring to the relations between Innocent III. and King John, states the ground upon which the former acted, as avowed by himself, in interfering with the dispute between John and the King of France—a matter purely temporal. He says that in this explicit statement is set forth “more plainly than any speculations of modern writers, the real ground on which the popes assumed their pretended authority in temporal matters;” and, therefore, the language of the pope is the more worthy of careful scrutiny. He gives the following as the reasons by which Innocent justified himself:

“He first transcribes the following passage from the Gospel: ‘If thy brother trespass against thee, go and tell him his fault between him and thee alone…., and if he will not hear thee, then take with thee one or two more….; and if he shall neglect to hear them, tell it unto the Church; but if he neglect to hear the Church, let him be unto thee as an heathen man and a publican (Matthew xviii., 15—17). ‘Now,’ he [Innocent] proceeds,’the King of England maintains that the King of France, by enforcing the execution of an unjust sentence, has trespassed against him. He has, therefore, admonished him of his fault in the manner prescribed by the Gospel; and meeting with no redress, has, according to the direction of the same Gospel, appealed to the Church. How, then, can we, whom Divine Providence has placed at the head of the Church, refuse to obey the divine command?. How can we hesitate to proceed according to the form pointed out by Christ himself?…. We do not arrogate to ourselves the right of judgment as to the fee—that belongs to the King of France. But we have a right to judge respecting the sin; and that right it is our duty to exercise against the offender, be he who he may….. By the imperial law it has been provided that, if one of two litigant parties prefer the judgment of the Apostolic See to that of the civil magistrate (apud Grat., caus. ii., 9, i. can., 35), the other shall be bound to submit to such judgment. But if we mention this, it is not that we found our jurisdiction on any civil authority. God has made it our duty to reprehend the man who falls into mortal sin, and, if he neglect our reprehension, to compel him to amend by ecclesiastical censures. Moreover, both kings have sworn to observe the late treaty of peace, and yet Philip has broken that treaty. The cognizance of perjury is universally allowed to belong to the ecclesiastical courts. On this account, therefore, we have also a right to call the parties before our tribunal.'” (“History of England,” by Lingard, vol. ii., pp. 153, 154 (note).)

And soon after, in explanation of the bull of Innocent releasing the English people from their allegiance, Lingard says:

“….Innocent grounded his temporal pretensions on the right which he possessed of judging of sin, and of the obligation of oaths….. At first, indeed, the popes contented themselves with spiritual censures; but in an age when all notions of justice were remodeled after the feudal jurisprudence, it was soon admitted that princes, by their disobedience, became traitors to God; that as traitors, they ought to forfeit their kingdoms, the fees which they held of God, and that to pronounce such sentence belonged to the pontiff, the vicegerent of Christ upon earth. By these means the servant of the servants of God [the pope] became the sovereign of the sovereigns, and assumed the right of judging them in his court, and of transferring their crowns as he thought just.” (Ibid., p. 163 (note).)

Now, if the reader will examine the first of these extracts, wherein Lingard quotes the language of Innocent, he will see that the latter derives his extraordinary power from the Gratian Decretals, which, as we have already seen, were made up of numerous gross and palpable forgeries! And if he will then take the pains to examine any of the recent encyclicals of Pius IX., especially that of 1864, (Appendix C. 29) he will also see that the latter derives his temporal power, which enables him to require obedience of governments as well as individuals, just as Innocent III. did, from his divine authority to judge of sin, and therefore from the same False Decretals! When he talked, in the Encyclical of 1864, about having derived from his “predecessors” jurisdiction over “all heresies and errors which are hostile to moral honesty and to the eternal salvation of mankind,” it was manifestly his intention to place himself upon the ground occupied by Innocent; and it is equally manifest that the late Lateran Council intended to affirm his claim of universal jurisdiction over both “faith and morals”—that is, over all the sins committed by governments or individuals—by enacting the decree of infallibility.

It is a common boast of the papal writers that the faith and teachings of the Roman Church are immutable that they have always been, from the beginning, precisely the same. Has not Pius IX., then, and will not his successors have, according to its teachings, exactly the same power to judge of sin, wheresoever it exists, that Innocent III. had? Every thing now done and said by Pius IX. and his ultramontane allies is confirmatory of the fact that they so understand the character of the papal jurisdiction. But this question, the greatest of the present age, is susceptible of a more practical test.

Alexander II., at the dictation of Hildebrand, took jurisdiction over the political affairs of England, and gave away its crown to William of Normandy, because Harold had violated his oath, thereby committing a sin. Pius IX. has declared, in almost every variety of expression, that Protestantism is a sin, and that all the advancing nations and peoples are acting in violation of God’s law: why may he not, therefore, arraign them at the bar of the Roman Curia, pronounce judgment against them, and dispose of them as the interest of the Church shall require? Innocent III. declared that he did not derive his jurisdiction over nations from “any civil authority,” and Pius IX. has done the same thing. They both assert the Divine right to reprehend sin, and to compel amendment by ecclesiastical censures.

All this is of the faith and of morals, and, therefore, what they have said is to be taken as said ex cathedra. Innocent III. was as infallible when he released the English people from their allegiance, and declared that another king than John should be selected “by the authority of the Apostolic See,” as Pius IX. now is when he commands the faithful in Germany, Switzerland, and Brazil to resist the laws of their respective governments, and calls such resistance the true service of God. Therefore, the penalty for disobedience to the papal command must be the same in each case; for the Church—that is, the pope—judges for herself what she shall do, how she shall do it, and in what manner a refusal to obey her shall be punished!

Innocent III. made those who disobeyed him “traitors to God!” Are not those who disobey Pius IX. precisely the same? Innocent III. declared that “they ought to forfeit their kingdoms,” because they “held of God,” against whom they had committed treason; and “that to pronounce such sentence belonged to the pontiff, the vicegerent of Christ upon earth!” who was “the sovereign of the sovereigns,” and had “the right of judging them in his court, and of transferring their crowns as he thought just!” If one of the greatest of the popes has any authority in fixing the law of the Church, then this is as much its law today as it was when it was decreed at the Vatican; and that Pius IX. and all his Jesuit supporters so understand it, will not be questioned by any who will take the pains to examine the facts. It would require a volume even to compile, without comment, what has been written on this subject.

The Catholic World says: “While the State has some rights, she has them only in virtue and by permission of the superior authority, and that authority can only be expressed through the Church, that is, through the organic law infallibly announced and unchangeably asserted, regardless of temporal consequences.” (The Catholic World for July, 1870, vol. xi., p. 439.)

Dr. Brownson says: “No civil government, be it a monarchy, an aristocracy, a democracy, or any possible combination of any two or all of them, can be a wise, just, efficient, or durable government, governing for the good of the community, without the Catholic Church; and without the papacy there is and can be no Catholic Church.” (Brownson’s Quarterly Review, last series, January, 1873, vol. i., p. 10.)

Then, as an argument to enforce the proposition that “human laws repugnant to the divine law have no force what ever, and are on no account to be obeyed,” he proceeds to say:

“Now, as all laws, as all rights, are spiritual or divine, and as all their vigor, as laws, is derived from the spiritual order, only a spiritual court, or representative of the divine order, is competent to judge of them, define, declare, and apply them to the practical questions as they come up in individual or social life. This representative of the divine order on earth is the Church, instituted by God himself to maintain his law in the government of men and nations. Hence the necessity of the union of Church and State; and the condemnation in the Syllabus of those who demand their separation and the independence of the State.” (Ibid., vol. i., p. 12.)

He says, moreover, that the State “is bound to protect” the rights of the Church “with physical force, if necessary,” and “to govern in accordance with the divine law as she interprets, declares, and applies it.” Also, that the Church has “the right to call upon” a Catholic state to suppress an insurgent heresy or schism, and to compel those who have personally received the faith to return to the unity from which they have broken away.” (Ibid., p. 17.)

Innumerable quotations of this kind could be inserted here, but to do so would only be a work of supererogation. It is more satisfactory to go directly to the Vatican, as everything coming from that quarter has upon it the unmistakable stamp of pontifical authority. In 1870, Cardinal Antonelli issued an official communication from Rome, directed to the papal nuncio at Paris, wherein he declared that “the maxims and fundamental principles of the Church” were derived from “pontifical constitutions,” that is, decrees of popes, among which is the celebrated bull Unigenitus of Clement XI.; and then says:

“And, in truth, the Church has never intended, nor now intends, to exercise any direct and absolute power over the political rights of the State. Having received from God the lofty mission of guiding men, whether individually or congregated in society, to a supernatural end, she has by that very fact the authority and the duty to judge concerning the morality and justice of all acts, internal and external, in relation to their conformity with the natural and divine law. And as no action, whether it be ordained by a supreme power, or be freely elicited by an individual, can be exempt from this character of morality and justice, so it happens that the judgment of the Church, though falling directly on the morality of the acts, indirectly reaches over everything with which that morality is concerned.” (“Vatican Council,” by Archbishop Manning, appendix, p. 185.)

This is distinct enough to convince the most incredulous that it is a fixed and well-understood law of the Roman Church, that all individuals and societies and nations are within the circle of the papal jurisdiction; and that whatsoever they may do not compatible with God’s law, as the pope shall define it, in the whole domain of faith and morals, he has the right to condemn, and does condemn, by virtue of authority derived directly from God. Hence, it will be perceived that the law of the Church is today just what it was announced to be by Innocent III., and that it confers upon Pius IX. precisely the same authority which he claimed over the crown of England, and which Alexander II. exercised when he decided it to belong to William of Normandy.

The law being the same, the penalty for disobedience must be the same—for the Church never changes! In any given case of disobedience, whether by an individual or a nation, the act must be, necessarily, treason against God, as Innocent declared. The individual, for this offense, is cut off by the sword of excommunication from all fellowship with the faithful, and the doors of heaven are closed against him; if he be a civil ruler, his authority to govern is stricken from his hands, and those who owe him obedience by the laws of the State are commanded not to obey him. The nation, not having, like the individual, a corporeal body to be punished or a soul to be damned, forfeits all rights to the exercise of the power out of which its disobedience arose, and becomes thereby subject to the “sovereign of the sovereigns,” to whom God has given authority to pronounce judgment against it in his court,” and to transfer it to whomsoever he shall think “just;” that is, to the faithful who will bring it into the path of duty! And when all other remedial measures have failed, the Church, says Pius IX., has the right to avail “herself of force” to compel obedience! (*)

We are not left to any conjecture in reference to the punishment of individuals or nations for the heresy of disobedience to the pope, which is considered as disobedience to God. If the doctrine laid down by Innocent III. and Pius IX. is not explicit enough oh this subject, it is so laid down by authors of recognized authority, who have compiled the law of the Church, as to leave no room for cavil. In 1773, a work was published in Spain, written by Alfonzo de Castro, a learned friar, which was designed to set forth the law of the Church for the punishment of heretics. These punishments he divides into two classes, spiritual and temporal. The latter are defined to be proscription and confiscation of property, and “the deprival of every sort of pre-eminence, jurisdiction, and government, which they previously exercised over persons of every condition.” To this class belong kings and those who govern public affairs. “A king,” says he, “having become a heretic, is ipso jure (by the law itself) deprived of his kingdom, a duke of his dukedom, an earl of his earldom, and so with other governors of the people, by whatever name they are known.” And this is done by the pope, who “deprives a king of his royal dignity, and strips him of his kingdom; for in the matter of faith, kings, like other subordinates, are the subjects of the sovereign pontiff, who can punish them as he does others.”

Inasmuch as to deprive a ruler of his kingdom, the country would be left without a governor, unless something more were done, the law goes a step farther. This author states it in these words:

“If an heretical king have no heir, or if the heir be also a heretic, then if the nation be not infected with heresy, I should say that it has the power and right of electing the king, as it is said in the First Book of Kings,’The people makes itself a king.’ But if the people be infected with the same pestilence (of heresy) as the king, the people will be deprived ipso jure of the power of choosing for itself a king, and then the business will devolve on the sovereign pontiff!” (Apud Dr. Cumming. See his “Lectures on Romanism,”in London, in explanation of the teaching of Cardinal Wiseman, pp. 55, 56.)

And thus the remote facts in English history, already detailed, connect themselves with our own times, by the attempt of the papacy, under the lead of the Jesuits, to revive the papal doctrines of the Middle Ages, as the means of arresting the progress and advancing civilization of the nineteenth century. The passionate declamation of the pope, and the vaporing of a few hierarchs, or all of them, for that matter, amount to nothing in the abstract. Like all others of disappointed ambition, they are most prolific in terms of denunciation against those who have been driven out of the Roman Church by their severity and injustice.

And if they choose to drive them still farther by additional severity and injustice, and every form of anathema and malediction, Protestants are not likely to concern themselves very much about it. But when they impudently arraign whole nations of people, deny to them the right to govern their own affairs, pronounce judgment against them as heretics and traitors to God, and claim that the pope has the divine right to set his own rulers over them, it is quite time for us to understand what is to be the effect of all this upon the future destiny of our own country. But this question can be more satisfactorily considered when we shall have learned something more of the working of the papal system, which we are now asked to adopt in preference to that which has placed us in so eminent a position among the nations.

Continued in The Papacy And The Civil Power – Chapter XV. The English Barons

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