great as an institution and as a religion! What
lessons of human experience, what great truths of
government, what subtile influences, reaching alike
the palaces of kings and the hovels of peasants, are
indissolubly linked with its marvellous domination,
so that whether in its growth or decay it is more suggestive
than the rise and fall of any temporal empire.
It has produced, probably, more illustrious men than
any political State in Europe. It has aimed to
accomplish far grander ends. It is invested with
more poetic interest. Its policy, its heroes,
its saints, its doctors, its dignitaries, its missions,
its persecutions, all rise up before us with varied
but never-ending interest, when seriously contemplated.
It has proved to be the most wonderful fabric of
what we call worldly wisdom that our world has seen,—controlling
kings, dictating laws to ancient monarchies, and binding
the souls of millions with a more perfect despotism
than Oriental emperors ever sought or dreamed.
And what a marvellous vitality it seems to have!
It has survived the attacks of its countless enemies;
it has recovered from the shock of the Reformation;
it still remains majestic and powerful, extending
its arms of paternal love or Briarean terror over
half of Christendom. As a temporal government,
rivalling kings in the pomps of war and the pride of
armies, it may be passing away; but as an organization
to diffuse and conserve religious truths,—yea,
even to bring a moral pressure on the minds of princes
and governors, and reinforce its ranks with the mighty
and the noble,—it seems to be as potent
as ever. It is still sending its missionaries,
its prelates, and its cardinals into the heart of
Protestant countries, who anticipate and boast of
new victories. It derides the dissensions and
the rationalistic speculations of the Protestants,
and predicts that they will either become open Pagans
or re-enter the fold of Saint Peter. No longer
do angry partisans call it the “Beast”
or the “Scarlet Mother” or the “predicted
Antichrist,” since its religious creeds in their
vital points are more in harmony with the theology
of venerated Fathers than those of some of the progressive
and proudest parties which call themselves Protestant.
In Germany, in France,—shall I add, in
England and America?—it is more in earnest,
and more laborious and self-denying than many sects
among the Protestants. In Germany—in
those very seats of learning and power and fashion
which once were kindled into lofty enthusiasm by the
voice of Luther—who is it that desert the
churches and disregard the sacraments, the Catholics
or the Protestants?