Chapter V

THE AUDIENCE.

In the audience-chamber there stood three gentlemen in animated conversation: the grandmaster and two other Freemasons, the director, and university professor. They were handsomely dressed, and wore several orders upon their breasts. They seemed to be very familiar with their surroundings, for they moved about with perfect unconcern. The grandmaster of the Freemasons especially appeared to be full of his own importance, and he glanced haughtily at one of the king’s attendants when he entered the apartment.

“Something has gone wrong to-day,” said he, looking at his watch. “It is already a quarter of an hour after the appointed time. I have never been treated so before.”

“I also remark something unusual,” exclaimed the director. “There, behind the table, stands a chair of state. The king never seats himself when giving audiences; why, therefore, has this rule been violated? There is a bell upon the table—what does all this mean?”

“The king has his humors, no doubt,” replied the grandmaster sarcastically, placing meanwhile an address upon the silver salver which stood upon the table.

At once the folding-doors opened, and the king entered, looking grave and dignified. He advanced towards the chair of state, and, placing his hand upon it, he waited until those present had finished bowing. No gracious smile lighted up his features, and he returned their salutation with a scarcely perceptible nod of the head.

“Most gracious majesty!” commenced the grandmaster, “it cannot have escaped your notice that a serious disturbance threatens the peace of the whole German Empire, as well as the kingdom which is so happy as to be governed by your wise and prudent rule. The infallibility of the Pope, so dangerous to the state, and invented only to bring princes and people under the sceptre of the Roman Pontiff, has provoked universal indignation. Everywhere societies and meetings are protesting against this usurpation of Rome. At Munich and Darmstadt, good and learned men have taken part in the proceedings. In both cities, resolutions were passed which your majesty will be graciously pleased to accept.”

The king silently took the address from the salver, and laid it upon the table.

“Your majesty will permit me to remark,” continued the grandmaster, “that, at the Protestant Diet of Darmstadt, the Jesuits were specially designated as the most dangerous conspirators in the service of Rome, and particularly hostile to the German Empire. Now, as the Society of Jesus exists also in your majesty’s dominions, we have ventured, actuated solely by the interest we take in the peace and political welfare of the kingdom, to humbly petition that your majesty will insist upon the immediate expulsion of the above-named society.”

“Are you a Catholic, Herr Counsellor of the High Court?” asked the king.

“Strictly Catholic, your majesty—strictly Catholic,” replied the Freemason. “I hold firmly to the old doctrines of the Holy Catholic Church, and shall resist with all my strength the innovation of the last council.”

“According to what you say, your petition asking for the suppression of the Jesuits does not come with such ill grace from you, for you, as a Catholic, speak about Catholic affairs,” said the king. “But why a Protestant diet should meddle itself with the ecclesiastical discipline and religious belief of Catholics is beyond my conception. The Catholics also have public meetings; but I never hear that they concern themselves in the slightest degree about Protestant matters. I am aware of the resolutions passed by the Protestant Diet of Darmstadt, and regret them exceedingly, because they are only calculated to grieve Catholics, to disturb the peace, and to seriously embarrass governments. The Gustave Adolph Society is a proof how, in former times, Protestants have united themselves with the foreign invader and destroyer of our country against the Catholic Emperor of Germany. Hostile treatment, or even an attempt to suppress the Catholic Church on the part of the state, might in like manner force Catholic Germans to unite themselves with a foreign power in opposition to the Protestant Emperor of Germany. A faithful people are not in need of forgiveness if they love their God and their religion more than they do the tyranny of their fatherland.”

The Freemasons were astonished; they did not expect to hear the king speak as he did.

“You make mention of the resolutions of the glass palace at Munich, which were also directed against the Jesuits,” continued the king. “Do you believe the grave accusations which they bring against the Society of Jesus?”

“I have the fullest conviction of their truth,” replied the grandmaster, bowing low.

The king now seated himself, and looked through the address. The men of the trowel cast significant glances at each other.

“A ruler must be just; he should never belong to a party,” said the king. “You demand the suppression of men who are highly respected and venerated by thousands of my subjects. The Burgomaster and principal men of Weselheim are here to petition for the restoration of their pastor, a Jesuit father. If, after hearing these men, I am convinced that the actions of the Jesuits correspond with the Munich resolutions, then I will not be disinclined to grant your request for the suppression of the society; but, if the contrary, then justice must be done!”

He rang a bell. The folding-doors at the lower end of the salon opened, and the burgomaster, together with the councilmen of Weselheim, entered, all looking anxious as to the result of the interview. The king rose from his chair, and his whole manner changed; with a friendly gesture, he invited the embarrassed deputies to draw nearer.

“Ah! Herr Burgomaster, I am delighted to see you again!” said he to the burgomaster, giving him his hand. “You have not become older in the course of the year—always young and active. How are the trout? Shall I see any more of them upon my table?”

“O most gracious king!” replied the delighted burgomaster, “the whole parish will catch trout for your majesty.”

“I am glad to hear it!” rejoined the king. “And how is your little golden-haired son with the rosy cheeks? Has he grown tall?”

“Two feet taller this year; your majesty would not know him!”

The councilmen were enchanted. The ice was broken.

“You desire your pastor, the Jesuit father, to return to you again?” began the king, seating himself in the chair. “That is right; such a request is honorable to you all. Parishioners should always esteem a worthy pastor. But, my dear people,” he continued, “there are some difficulties. It is asserted that the Jesuits are men dangerous to the state; that their teachings are destructive to morals. It is further said that the Jesuits conspire against the government; that they are opposed to the enlightenment of the people; and I am therefore petitioned by some of my subjects to authorize their expulsion. These are the very words contained in the address I hold in my hand.”

The men looked at one another; they evidently did not comprehend the meaning of the accusations made against the Jesuits.

“I ask pardon, your majesty; but we do not understand you,” said the burgomaster. “We know, indeed, that there are many who hate the Jesuits, and who wish to see them exterminated, none more so than the Freemasons. But your majesty must not listen to such persons; for even our Lord was accused by his enemies of inciting the people, of being dangerous to the state; and they even went so far as to nail him to the cross. If our Saviour would come again to-day in the flesh, the Freemasons would not be satisfied until they had crucified him again.”

The king cast a quick look at the flushed countenances of the Freemasons.

“I ask you, upon your conscience,” said he to the burgomaster, “if your Jesuit father ever taught immoral doctrines?”

“O great heaven!” exclaimed the excited burgomaster. “Immoral doctrines—our pastor? Why, your majesty, he is like a saint, and he does his best to make saints of the whole parish. If two young persons of a different sex live together without being married, our pastor never rests until both have given up their scandalous life and are married. If enmities exist, and lawsuits and quarrels, our pastor is indefatigable until he effects a reconciliation. Thus, our pastor is like an angel for our parish. Formerly there were many who hated each other; we had dissensions among ourselves; but now everything is peaceable and quiet in the village, and all this we owe to our pastor, the Jesuit father.”

“And what he does for the children is beyond belief, your majesty,” said Keller. “He visits the schools every day; the children love him. In former times, parents had to command the children to pray in the morning and the evening; now they pray without being told to do so. And our children are so obedient, for our pastor impresses upon them the full importance of the fourth commandment.”

“Has your pastor no enemies in the parish?” inquired the king.

“Yes, most gracious majesty; he has enemies, that is, three rascals, who would like to see him driven out,” said the burgomaster.

“You see, gentlemen,” said the king to the officials, “that your accusations against the Jesuits are by no means confirmed.”

“The Jesuit of Weselheim may perhaps be an exception,” replied the grandmaster.

Franz Keller seemed possessed with a desire to speak, but he controlled his impatience.

“Your majesty will excuse me for saying that the accusations against the Jesuits appear very surprising to me,” remarked Ewald. “In the Bible, we read that the Jews dragged our Saviour before the high-priests, and accused him of different crimes. And when our Saviour defended himself, one of the servants struck him in the face, whereupon our Saviour said: ‘If I have spoken evil, give testimony of the evil; but, if well, why strikest thou me?’ It is the same with the Jesuits. If they are really as wicked and criminal as their enemies assert, well, let them be brought before the law, and be punished according to the law. But if nothing can be proved against them, why continue to slander and persecute them, and to treat them like murderers and thieves?”

“Very well said, and very true!” answered the king.

“Most gracious king, I can tell you what people are against the Jesuits—the Freemasons,” began Keller, unable any longer to keep quiet. “A short time ago, I heard them talking on the Vogelsberg. These three gentlemen (pointing to the Freemasons) were there, and one other. The one with the gray beard said: ‘The trowel or the cross, that is the watchword!’ Then they all declared that the religion of Christ must be exterminated; and, because the Jesuits are good preachers and zealous priests, therefore they must be the first to be overthrown. And they also said that, when the altars were destroyed, the thrones must be demolished. What else they said, most gracious king, I will not grieve you by repeating.”

The king looked silently, but with an expression of severe displeasure, at the officials.

“Will your majesty permit us to withdraw?” inquired the grandmaster.

“You will remain; we have not finished yet,” replied the king sternly.

“Most gracious king,” entreated the burgomaster, “be kind enough to look through the window.”

The king did as requested, and saw at the foot of the hill the whole parish of Weselheim congregated together—men, women, and children. They all stood with their faces turned towards the palace. Many knelt upon the ground. The king was visibly affected at the sight.

“The whole village unite with us in asking your majesty to give us back our dear, good, pious Jesuit father,” said the burgomaster.

At this moment, a chamberlain appeared, and handed the king a written communication.

“He is very welcome; admit him at once!” commanded the king.

The delegation were attentive spectators of what was transpiring. In the antechamber they heard the voice of the pastor, who now entered the salon, and was most graciously received by the king. The presence of royalty alone prevented loud exclamations of delight from his parishioners, whose faces shone with joy.

“The Society of Jesus was very active during the last war,” said the king, after certain formalities had been gone through. “How many German Jesuits were on the scene of action?”

“Nearly all, your majesty—one hundred and eighty-eight,” replied the Jesuit. “Our older members took care of the sick; for, during the war, all our colleges were converted into hospitals.”

“No proof of hostility to the state,” remarked the king, turning to the officials. “How many Freemasons were employed in attending to the sick and wounded in the hospitals during the war?”

“The care of the sick does not belong to the vocation of a Freemason,” answered the grandmaster shortly.

“Much is said and written to-day concerning the extraordinary power of the Jesuits,” said the king to the reverend father. “I have in vain endeavored to discover the secret of this power; you may perhaps be able to enlighten me on the subject?”

“Your majesty, the so-called power of the Jesuits is a mere phantom invented by our enemies to excite the fears of the credulous,” answered the priest. “In fact, the Jesuits are, of all men, the weakest. They are slandered, persecuted, suppressed. In many places, they have not even the right to exist or to breathe, as in Bavaria and Switzerland. All societies are protected in Bavaria, all associations can exist in Switzerland, except the Society of Jesus. If the Jesuits, therefore, possessed in reality the power claimed for them, they would not permit their members to be treated like slaves, as they now are.”

“I believe you,” rejoined the king. “Being a foreigner, your reverence had to abandon the sphere of your labor; but now I grant you the right of a subject, and liberty to return to your mission. May you live many years to be a blessing to the parish of Weselheim!”

He took the hand of the priest, and led him to the village delegation.

“Here, you have your pastor back again! Honor and obey him!” said he to them.

“Most gracious king, may Almighty God reward you a thousand times for what you have done!” exclaimed the men, down whose cheeks the tears were streaming; and, if two of the chamberlains had not interfered, and led them out of the salon, they would have committed many breaches of etiquette, so great was their joy.

The king now approached the Freemasons; his manner was cold, but his eyes were ablaze with indignation.

“I thank divine Providence,” said he, “for having exposed before my eyes the cunning and malicious snare in which you sought to entrap me. The Jesuits are not the enemies of culture nor of the state; but the Freemasons are. The foundation of culture is Christianity, and not Freemasonry, which is the enemy of Christianity. In my kingdom, the cross, and not the trowel shall be the symbol of government. The Jesuits neither teach nor practise a false and corrupt morality, but the Freemasons do, for they seek to overthrow not only altars but thrones. The Freemasons are unscrupulous, false, and perjured officials, for they have presumed to say that their king to whom they have sworn fidelity was a narrow-minded man who did not govern, but was governed! It would be nothing more than just to have the whole order prosecuted for high treason!”

The excited king ceased speaking. The Freemasons, who at first looked defiant and unconcerned, now trembled with fright. His majesty stood for a while in perfect silence. From the foot of the hill resounded many hundred voices chanting the grand hymn of praise, the German Te Deum, while they accompanied their beloved pastor to the village.

The king, who had recovered his self-command, now pronounced the following sentence: “The director, the Counsellor of the High Court, the professor of the university, and the government counsellor Schlehdorn are from this time forth deprived of their offices. I shall not institute judicial proceedings against them, out of regard to the feelings of their innocent families!”

The king turned, and left the salon.

The Freemasons looked at one another. Upon the lips of the grandmaster an ironical, revengeful smile was seen.

“A blow in the water will startle any one, if it is given unexpectedly,” said he, “and our present discomfiture is only of that nature!” he continued, with a peculiar movement of the hand, and in language whose obscure meaning they evidently understood. “Brethren, our labors in a small sphere are only discontinued that we may resume the work on a grander scale; for the trowel of the Freemasons shall yet build the arch that covers the grave of the greater as well as of the smaller!”

The other Freemasons bowed affirmatively to the words of the grandmaster, and followed him out of the salon.