Saturday, 3 July 2021

"Libertas" by Pope Leo XIII (translated into English)

To the Patriarchs, Primates, Archbishops, and

Bishops of the Catholic World in Grace and

Communion with the Apostolic See.

 

1. Liberty, the highest of natural endowments, being the portion only of intellectual or rational natures, confers on man this dignity - that he is "in the hand of his counsel"(1) and has power over his actions. But the manner in which such dignity is exercised is of the greatest moment, inasmuch as on the use that is made of liberty the highest good and the greatest evil alike depend. Man, indeed, is free to obey his reason, to seek moral good, and to strive unswervingly after his last end. Yet he is free also to turn aside to all other things; and, in pursuing the empty semblance of good, to disturb rightful order and to fall headlong into the destruction which he has voluntarily chosen. The Redeemer of mankind, Jesus Christ, having restored and exalted the original dignity of nature, vouchsafed special assistance to the will of man; and by the gifts of His grace here, and the promise of heavenly bliss hereafter, He raised it to a nobler state. In like manner, this great gift of nature has ever been, and always will be, deservingly cherished by the Catholic Church, for to her alone has been committed the charge of handing down to all ages the benefits purchased for us by Jesus Christ. Yet there are many who imagine that the Church is hostile to human liberty. Having a false and absurd notion as to what liberty is, either they pervert the very idea of freedom, or they extend it at their pleasure to many things in respect of which man cannot rightly be regarded as free.

2. We have on other occasions, and especially in Our encyclical letter Immortale Dei,(2) in treating of the so-called modern liberties, distinguished between their good and evil elements; and We have shown that whatsoever is good in those liberties is as ancient as truth itself, and that the Church has always most willingly approved and practiced that good: but whatsoever has been added as new is, to tell the plain truth, of a vitiated kind, the fruit of the disorders of the age, and of an insatiate longing after novelties. Seeing, however, that many cling so obstinately to their own opinion in this matter as to imagine these modern liberties, cankered as they are, to be the greatest glory of our age, and the very basis of civil life, without which no perfect government can be conceived, We feel it a pressing duty, for the sake of the common good, to treat separately of this subject.

3. It is with moral liberty, whether in individuals or in communities, that We proceed at once to deal. But, first of all, it will be well to speak briefly of natural liberty; for, though it is distinct and separate from moral liberty, natural freedom is the fountainhead from which liberty of whatsoever kind flows, sua vi suaque sponte. The unanimous consent and judgment of men, which is the trusty voice of nature, recognizes this natural liberty in those only who are endowed with intelligence or reason; and it is by his use of this that man is rightly regarded as responsible for his actions. For, while other animate creatures follow their senses, seeking good and avoiding evil only by instinct, man has reason to guide him in each and every act of his life. Reason sees that whatever things that are held to be good upon earth may exist or may not, and discerning that none of them are of necessity for us, it leaves the will free to choose what it pleases. But man can judge of this contingency, as We say, only because he has a soul that is simple, spiritual, and intellectual - a soul, therefore, which is not produced by matter, and does not depend on matter for its existence; but which is created immediately by God, and, far surpassing the condition of things material, has a life and action of its own so that, knowing the unchangeable and necessary reasons of what is true and good, it sees that no particular kind of good is necessary to us. When, therefore, it is established that man's soul is immortal and endowed with reason and not bound up with things material, the foundation of natural liberty is at once most firmly laid.

4. As the Catholic Church declares in the strongest terms the simplicity, spirituality, and immortality of the soul, so with unequalled constancy and publicity she ever also asserts its freedom. These truths she has always taught, and has sustained them as a dogma of faith, and whensoever heretics or innovators have attacked the liberty of man, the Church has defended it and protected this noble possession from destruction. History bears witness to the energy with which she met the fury of the Manichaeans and others like them; and the earnestness with which in later years she defended human liberty at the Council of Trent, and against the followers of Jansenius, is known to all. At no time, and in no place, has she held truce with fatalism.

5. Liberty, then, as We have said, belongs only to those who have the gift of reason or intelligence. Considered as to its nature, it is the faculty of choosing means fitted for the end proposed, for he is master of his actions who can choose one thing out of many. Now, since everything chosen as a means is viewed as good or useful, and since good, as such, is the proper object of our desire, it follows that freedom of choice is a property of the will, or, rather, is identical with the will in so far as it has in its action the faculty of choice. But the will cannot proceed to act until it is enlightened by the knowledge possessed by the intellect. In other words, the good wished by the will is necessarily good in so far as it is known by the intellect; and this the more, because in all voluntary acts choice is subsequent to a judgment upon the truth of the good presented, declaring to which good preference should be given. No sensible man can doubt that judgment is an act of reason, not of the will. The end, or object, both of the rational will and of its liberty is that good only which is in conformity with reason.

6. Since, however, both these faculties are imperfect, it is possible, as is often seen, that the reason should propose something which is not really good, but which has the appearance of good, and that the will should choose accordingly. For, as the possibility of error, and actual error, are defects of the mind and attest its imperfection, so the pursuit of what has a false appearance of good, though a proof of our freedom, just as a disease is a proof of our vitality, implies defect in human liberty. The will also, simply because of its dependence on the reason, no sooner desires anything contrary thereto than it abuses its freedom of choice and corrupts its very essence. Thus it is that the infinitely perfect God, although supremely free, because of the supremacy of His intellect and of His essential goodness, nevertheless cannot choose evil; neither can the angels and saints, who enjoy the beatific vision. St. Augustine and others urged most admirably against the Pelagians that, if the possibility of deflection from good belonged to the essence or perfection of liberty, then God, Jesus Christ, and the angels and saints, who have not this power, would have no liberty at all, or would have less liberty than man has in his state of pilgrimage and imperfection. This subject is often discussed by the Angelic Doctor in his demonstration that the possibility of sinning is not freedom, but slavery. It will suffice to quote his subtle commentary on the words of our Lord: "Whosoever committeth sin is the slave of sin."(3) "Everything," he says, "is that which belongs to it a naturally. When, therefore, it acts through a power outside itself, it does not act of itself, but through another, that is, as a slave. But man is by nature rational. When, therefore, he acts according to reason, he acts of himself and according to his free will; and this is liberty. Whereas, when he sins, he acts in opposition to reason, is moved by another, and is the victim of foreign misapprehensions. Therefore, `Whosoever committeth sin is the slave of sin.' "(4) Even the heathen philosophers clearly recognized this truth, especially they who held that the wise man alone is free; and by the term "wise man" was meant, as is well known, the man trained to live in accordance with his nature, that is, in justice and virtue.

7. Such, then, being the condition of human liberty, it necessarily stands in need of light and strength to direct its actions to good and to restrain them from evil. Without this, the freedom of our will would be our ruin. First of all, there must be law; that is, a fixed rule of teaching what is to be done and what is to be left undone. This rule cannot affect the lower animals in any true sense, since they act of necessity, following their natural instinct, and cannot of themselves act in any other way. On the other hand, as was said above, he who is free can either act or not act, can do this or do that, as he pleases, because his judgment precedes his choice. And his judgment not only decides what is right or wrong of its own nature, but also what is practically good and therefore to be chosen, and what is practically evil and therefore to be avoided. In other words, the reason prescribes to the will what it should seek after or shun, in order to the eventual attainment of man's last end, for the sake of which all his actions ought to be performed. This ordination of reason is called law. In man's free will, therefore, or in the moral necessity of our voluntary acts being in accordance with reason, lies the very root of the necessity of law. Nothing more foolish can be uttered or conceived than the notion that, because man is free by nature, he is therefore exempt from law. Were this the case, it would follow that to become free we must be deprived of reason; whereas the truth is that we are bound to submit to law precisely because we are free by our very nature. For, law is the guide of man's actions; it turns him toward good by its rewards, and deters him from evil by its punishments.

8. Foremost in this office comes the natural law, which is written and engraved in the mind of every man; and this is nothing but our reason, commanding us to do right and forbidding sin. Nevertheless, all prescriptions of human reason can have force of law only inasmuch as they are the voice and the interpreters of some higher power on which our reason and liberty necessarily depend. For, since the force of law consists in the imposing of obligations and the granting of rights, authority is the one and only foundation of all law - the power, that is, of fixing duties and defining rights, as also of assigning the necessary sanctions of reward and chastisement to each and all of its commands. But all this, clearly, cannot be found in man, if, as his own supreme legislator, he is to be the rule of his own actions. It follows, therefore, that the law of nature is the same thing as the eternal law, implanted in rational creatures, and inclining them to their right action and end; and can be nothing else but the eternal reason of God, the Creator and Ruler of all the world. To this rule of action and restraint of evil God has vouchsafed to give special and most suitable aids for strengthening and ordering the human will. The first and most excellent of these is the power of His divine grace, whereby the mind can be enlightened and the will wholesomely invigorated and moved to the constant pursuit of moral good, so that the use of our inborn liberty becomes at once less difficult and less dangerous. Not that the divine assistance hinders in any way the free movement of our will; just the contrary, for grace works inwardly in man and in harmony with his natural inclinations, since it flows from the very Creator of his mind and will, by whom all things are moved in conformity with their nature. As the Angelic Doctor points out, it is because divine grace comes from the Author of nature that it is so admirably adapted to be the safeguard of all natures, and to maintain the character, efficiency, and operations of each.

9. What has been said of the liberty of individuals is no less applicable to them when considered as bound together in civil society. For, what reason and the natural law do for individuals, that human law, promulgated for their good, does for the citizens of States. Of the laws enacted by men, some are concerned with what is good or bad by its very nature; and they command men to follow after what is right and to shun what is wrong, adding at the same time a suitable sanction. But such laws by no means derive their origin from civil society, because, just as civil society did not create human nature, so neither can it be said to be the author of the good which befits human nature, or of the evil which is contrary to it. Laws come before men live together in society, and have their origin in the natural, and consequently in the eternal, law. The precepts, therefore, of the natural law, contained bodily in the laws of men, have not merely the force of human law, but they possess that higher and more august sanction which belongs to the law of nature and the eternal law. And within the sphere of this kind of laws the duty of the civil legislator is, mainly, to keep the community in obedience by the adoption of a common discipline and by putting restraint upon refractory and viciously inclined men, so that, deterred from evil, they may turn to what is good, or at any rate may avoid causing trouble and disturbance to the State. Now, there are other enactments of the civil authority, which do not follow directly, but somewhat remotely, from the natural law, and decide many points which the law of nature treats only in a general and indefinite way. For instance, though nature commands all to contribute to the public peace and prosperity, whatever belongs to the manner, and circumstances, and conditions under which such service is to be rendered must be determined by the wisdom of men and not by nature herself. It is in the constitution of these particular rules of life, suggested by reason and prudence, and put forth by competent authority, that human law, properly so called, consists, binding all citizens to work together for the attainment of the common end proposed to the community, and forbidding them to depart from this end, and, in so far as human law is in conformity with the dictates of nature, leading to what is good, and deterring from evil.

10. From this it is manifest that the eternal law of God is the sole standard and rule of human liberty, not only in each individual man, but also in the community and civil society which men constitute when united. Therefore, the true liberty of human society does not consist in every man doing what he pleases, for this would simply end in turmoil and confusion, and bring on the overthrow of the State; but rather in this, that through the injunctions of the civil law all may more easily conform to the prescriptions of the eternal law. Likewise, the liberty of those who are in authority does not consist in the power to lay unreasonable and capricious commands upon their subjects, which would equally be criminal and would lead to the ruin of the commonwealth; but the binding force of human laws is in this, that they are to be regarded as applications of the eternal law, and incapable of sanctioning anything which is not contained in the eternal law, as in the principle of all law. Thus, St. Augustine most wisely says: "I think that you can see, at the same time, that there is nothing just and lawful in that temporal law, unless what men have gathered from this eternal law."(5) If, then, by anyone in authority, something be sanctioned out of conformity with the principles of right reason, and consequently hurtful to the commonwealth, such an enactment can have no binding force of law, as being no rule of justice, but certain to lead men away from that good which is the very end of civil society.

11. Therefore, the nature of human liberty, however it be considered, whether in individuals or in society, whether in those who command or in those who obey, supposes the necessity of obedience to some supreme and eternal law, which is no other than the authority of God, commanding good and forbidding evil. And, so far from this most just authority of God over men diminishing, or even destroying their liberty, it protects and perfects it, for the real perfection of all creatures is found in the prosecution and attainment of their respective ends; but the supreme end to which human liberty must aspire is God.

12. These precepts of the truest and highest teaching, made known to us by the light of reason itself, the Church, instructed by the example and doctrine of her divine Author, has ever propagated and asserted; for she has ever made them the measure of her office and of her teaching to the Christian nations. As to morals, the laws of the Gospel not only immeasurably surpass the wisdom of the heathen, but are an invitation and an introduction to a state of holiness unknown to the ancients; and, bringing man nearer to God, they make him at once the possessor of a more perfect liberty. Thus, the powerful influence of the Church has ever been manifested in the custody and protection of the civil and political liberty of the people. The enumeration of its merits in this respect does not belong to our present purpose. It is sufficient to recall the fact that slavery, that old reproach of the heathen nations, was mainly abolished by the beneficent efforts of the Church. The impartiality of law and the true brotherhood of man were first asserted by Jesus Christ; and His apostles re-echoed His voice when they declared that in future there was to be neither Jew, nor Gentile, nor barbarian, nor Scythian, but all were brothers in Christ. So powerful, so conspicuous, in this respect is the influence of the Church that experience abundantly testifies how savage customs are no longer possible in any land where she has once set her foot; but that gentleness speedily takes the place of cruelty, and the light of truth quickly dispels the darkness of barbarism. Nor has the Church been less lavish in the benefits she has conferred on civilized nations in every age, either by resisting the tyranny of the wicked, or by protecting the innocent and helpless from injury, or, finally, by using her influence in the support of any form of government which commended itself to the citizens at home, because of its justice, or was feared by their enemies without, because of its power.

13. Moreover, the highest duty is to respect authority, and obediently to submit to just law; and by this the members of a community are effectually protected from the wrong-doing of evil men. Lawful power is from God, "and whosoever resisteth authority resisteth the ordinance of God' ;(6) wherefore, obedience is greatly ennobled when subjected to an authority which is the most just and supreme of all. But where the power to command is wanting, or where a law is enacted contrary to reason, or to the eternal law, or to some ordinance of God, obedience is unlawful, lest, while obeying man, we become disobedient to God. Thus, an effectual barrier being opposed to tyranny, the authority in the State will not have all its own way, but the interests and rights of all will be safeguarded - the rights of individuals, of domestic society, and of all the members of the commonwealth; all being free to live according to law and right reason; and in this, as We have shown, true liberty really consists.

14. If when men discuss the question of liberty they were careful to grasp its true and legitimate meaning, such as reason and reasoning have just explained, they would never venture to affix such a calumny on the Church as to assert that she is the foe of individual and public liberty. But many there are who follow in the footsteps of Lucifer, and adopt as their own his rebellious cry, "I will not serve"; and consequently substitute for true liberty what is sheer and most foolish license. Such, for instance, are the men belonging to that widely spread and powerful organization, who, usurping the name of liberty, style themselves liberals.

15. What naturalists or rationalists aim at in philosophy, that the supporters of liberalism, carrying out the principles laid down by naturalism, are attempting in the domain of morality and politics. The fundamental doctrine of rationalism is the supremacy of the human reason, which, refusing due submission to the divine and eternal reason, proclaims its own independence, and constitutes itself the supreme principle and source and judge of truth. Hence, these followers of liberalism deny the existence of any divine authority to which obedience is due, and proclaim that every man is the law to himself; from which arises that ethical system which they style independent morality, and which, under the guise of liberty, exonerates man from any obedience to the commands of God, and substitutes a boundless license. The end of all this it is not difficult to foresee, especially when society is in question. For, when once man is firmly persuaded that he is subject to no one, it follows that the efficient cause of the unity of civil society is not to be sought in any principle external to man, or superior to him, but simply in the free will of individuals; that the authority in the State comes from the people only; and that, just as every man's individual reason is his only rule of life, so the collective reason of the community should be the supreme guide in the management of all public affairs. Hence the doctrine of the supremacy of the greater number, and that all right and all duty reside in the majority. But, from what has been said, it is clear that all this is in contradiction to reason. To refuse any bond of union between man and civil society, on the one hand, and God the Creator and consequently the supreme Law-giver, on the other, is plainly repugnant to the nature, not only of man, but of all created things; for, of necessity, all effects must in some proper way be connected with their cause; and it belongs to the perfection of every nature to contain itself within that sphere and grade which the order of nature has assigned to it, namely, that the lower should be subject and obedient to the higher.

16. Moreover, besides this, a doctrine of such character is most hurtful both to individuals and to the State. For, once ascribe to human reason the only authority to decide what is true and what is good, and the real distinction between good and evil is destroyed; honor and dishonor differ not in their nature, but in the opinion and judgment of each one; pleasure is the measure of what is lawful; and, given a code of morality which can have little or no power to restrain or quiet the unruly propensities of man, a way is naturally opened to universal corruption. With reference also to public affairs: authority is severed from the true and natural principle whence it derives all its efficacy for the common good; and the law determining what it is right to do and avoid doing is at the mercy of a majority. Now, this is simply a road leading straight to tyranny. The empire of God over man and civil society once repudiated, it follows that religion, as a public institution, can have no claim to exist, and that everything that belongs to religion will be treated with complete indifference. Furthermore, with ambitious designs on sovereignty, tumult and sedition will be common amongst the people; and when duty and conscience cease to appeal to them, there will be nothing to hold them back but force, which of itself alone is powerless to keep their covetousness in check. Of this we have almost daily evidence in the conflict with socialists and members of other seditious societies, who labor unceasingly to bring about revolution. It is for those, then, who are capable of forming a just estimate of things to decide whether such doctrines promote that true liberty which alone is worthy of man, or rather, pervert and destroy it.

17. There are, indeed, some adherents of liberalism who do not subscribe to these opinions, which we have seen to be fearful in their enormity, openly opposed to the truth, and the cause of most terrible evils. Indeed, very many amongst them, compelled by the force of truth, do not hesitate to admit that such liberty is vicious, nay, is simple license, whenever intemperate in its claims, to the neglect of truth and justice; and therefore they would have liberty ruled and directed by right reason, and consequently subject to the natural law and to the divine eternal law. But here they think they may stop, holding that man as a free being is bound by no law of God except such as He makes known to us through our natural reason. In this they are plainly inconsistent. For if - as they must admit, and no one can rightly deny - the will of the Divine Law-giver is to be obeyed, because every man is under the power of God, and tends toward Him as his end, it follows that no one can assign limits to His legislative authority without failing in the obedience which is due. Indeed, if the human mind be so presumptuous as to define the nature and extent of God's rights and its own duties, reverence for the divine law will be apparent rather than real, and arbitrary judgment will prevail over the authority and providence of God. Man must, therefore, take his standard of a loyal and religious life from the eternal law; and from all and every one of those laws which God, in His infinite wisdom and power, has been pleased to enact, and to make known to us by such clear and unmistakable signs as to leave no room for doubt. And the more so because laws of this kind have the same origin, the same author, as the eternal law, are absolutely in accordance with right reason, and perfect the natural law. These laws it is that embody the government of God, who graciously guides and directs the intellect and the will of man lest these fall into error. Let, then, that continue to remain in a holy and inviolable union which neither can nor should be separated; and in all things-for this is the dictate of right reason itself-let God be dutifully and obediently served.

18. There are others, somewhat more moderate though not more consistent, who affirm that the morality of individuals is to be guided by the divine law, but not the morality of the State, for that in public affairs the commands of God may be passed over, and may be entirely disregarded in the framing of laws. Hence follows the fatal theory of the need of separation between Church and State. But the absurdity of such a position is manifest. Nature herself proclaims the necessity of the State providing means and opportunities whereby the community may be enabled to live properly, that is to say, according to the laws of God. For, since God is the source of all goodness and justice, it is absolutely ridiculous that the State should pay no attention to these laws or render them abortive by contrary enact menu. Besides, those who are in authority owe it to the commonwealth not only to provide for its external well-being and the conveniences of life, but still more to consult the welfare of men's souls in the wisdom of their legislation. But, for the increase of such benefits, nothing more suitable can be conceived than the laws which have God for their author; and, therefore, they who in their government of the State take no account of these laws abuse political power by causing it to deviate from its proper end and from what nature itself prescribes. And, what is still more important, and what We have more than once pointed out, although the civil authority has not the same proximate end as the spiritual, nor proceeds on the same lines, nevertheless in the exercise of their separate powers they must occasionally meet. For their subjects are the same, and not infrequently they deal with the same objects, though in different ways. Whenever this occurs, since a state of conflict is absurd and manifestly repugnant to the most wise ordinance of God, there must necessarily exist some order or mode of procedure to remove the occasions of difference and contention, and to secure harmony in all things. This harmony has been not inaptly compared to that which exists between the body and the soul for the well-being of both one and the other, the separation of which brings irremediable harm to the body, since it extinguishes its very life.

19. To make this more evident, the growth of liberty ascribed to our age must be considered apart in its various details. And, first, let us examine that liberty in individuals which is so opposed to the virtue of religion, namely, the liberty of worship, as it is called. This is based on the principle that every man is free to profess as he may choose any religion or none.

20. But, assuredly, of all the duties which man has to fulfill, that, without doubt, is the chiefest and holiest which commands him to worship God with devotion and piety. This follows of necessity from the truth that we are ever in the power of God, are ever guided by His will and providence, and, having come forth from Him, must return to Him. Add to which, no true virtue can exist without religion, for moral virtue is concerned with those things which lead to God as man's supreme and ultimate good; and therefore religion, which (as St. Thomas says) "performs those actions which are directly and immediately ordained for the divine honor",(7) rules and tempers all virtues. And if it be asked which of the many conflicting religions it is necessary to adopt, reason and the natural law unhesitatingly tell us to practice that one which God enjoins, and which men can easily recognize by certain exterior notes, whereby Divine Providence has willed that it should be distinguished, because, in a matter of such moment, the most terrible loss would be the consequence of error. Wherefore, when a liberty such as We have described is offered to man, the power is given him to pervert or abandon with impunity the most sacred of duties, and to exchange the unchangeable good for evil; which, as We have said, is no liberty, but its degradation, and the abject submission of the soul to sin.

21. This kind of liberty, if considered in relation to the State, clearly implies that there is no reason why the State should offer any homage to God, or should desire any public recognition of Him; that no one form of worship is to be preferred to another, but that all stand on an equal footing, no account being taken of the religion of the people, even if they profess the Catholic faith. But, to justify this, it must needs be taken as true that the State has no duties toward God, or that such duties, if they exist, can be abandoned with impunity, both of which assertions are manifestly false. For it cannot be doubted but that, by the will of God, men are united in civil society; whether its component parts be considered; or its form, which implies authority; or the object of its existence; or the abundance of the vast services which it renders to man. God it is who has made man for society, and has placed him in the company of others like himself, so that what was wanting to his nature, and beyond his attainment if left to his own resources, he might obtain by association with others. Wherefore, civil society must acknowledge God as its Founder and Parent, and must obey and reverence His power and authority. Justice therefore forbids, and reason itself forbids, the State to be godless; or to adopt a line of action which would end in godlessness-namely, to treat the various religions (as they call them) alike, and to bestow upon them promiscuously equal rights and privileges. Since, then, the profession of one religion is necessary in the State, that religion must be professed which alone is true, and which can be recognized without difficulty, especially in Catholic States, because the marks of truth are, as it were, engravers upon it. This religion, therefore, the rulers of the State must preserve and protect, if they would provide - as they should do - with prudence and usefulness for the good of the community. For public authority exists for the welfare of those whom it governs; and, although its proximate end is to lead men to the prosperity found in this life, yet, in so doing, it ought not to diminish, but rather to increase, man's capability of attaining to the supreme good in which his everlasting happiness consists: which never can be attained if religion be disregarded.

22. All this, however, We have explained more fully elsewhere. We now only wish to add the remark that liberty of so false a nature is greatly hurtful to the true liberty of both rulers and their subjects. Religion, of its essence, is wonderfully helpful to the State. For, since it derives the prime origin of all power directly from God Himself, with grave authority it charges rulers to be mindful of their duty, to govern without injustice or severity, to rule their people kindly and with almost paternal charity; it admonishes subjects to be obedient to lawful authority, as to the ministers of God; and it binds them to their rulers, not merely by obedience, but by reverence and affection, forbidding all seditious and venturesome enterprises calculated to disturb public order and tranquillity, and cause greater restrictions to be put upon the liberty of the people. We need not mention how greatly religion conduces to pure morals, and pure morals to liberty. Reason shows, and history confirms the fact, that the higher the morality of States; the greater are the liberty and wealth and power which they enjoy.

23. We must now consider briefly liberty of speech, and liberty of the press. It is hardly necessary to say that there can be no such right as this, if it be not used in moderation, and if it pass beyond the bounds and end of all true liberty. For right is a moral power which - as We have before said and must again and again repeat - it is absurd to suppose that nature has accorded indifferently to truth and falsehood, to justice and injustice. Men have a right freely and prudently to propagate throughout the State what things soever are true and honorable, so that as many as possible may possess them; but lying opinions, than which no mental plague is greater, and vices which corrupt the heart and moral life should be diligently repressed by public authority, lest they insidiously work the ruin of the State. The excesses of an unbridled intellect, which unfailingly end in the oppression of the untutored multitude, are no less rightly controlled by the authority of the law than are the injuries inflicted by violence upon the weak. And this all the more surely, because by far the greater part of the community is either absolutely unable, or able only with great difficulty, to escape from illusions and deceitful subtleties, especially such as flatter the passions. If unbridled license of speech and of writing be granted to all, nothing will remain sacred and inviolate; even the highest and truest mandates of natures, justly held to be the common and noblest heritage of the human race, will not be spared. Thus, truth being gradually obscured by darkness, pernicious and manifold error, as too often happens, will easily prevail. Thus, too, license will gain what liberty loses; for liberty will ever be more free and secure in proportion as license is kept in fuller restraint. In regard, however, to all matter of opinion which God leaves to man's free discussion, full liberty of thought and of speech is naturally within the right of everyone; for such liberty never leads men to suppress the truth, but often to discover it and make it known.

24. A like judgment must be passed upon what is called liberty of teaching. There can be no doubt that truth alone should imbue the minds of men, for in it are found the well-being, the end, and the perfection of every intelligent nature; and therefore nothing but truth should be taught both to the ignorant and to the educated, so as to bring knowledge to those who have it not, and to preserve it in those who possess it. For this reason it is plainly the duty of all who teach to banish error from the mind, and by sure safeguards to close the entry to all false convictions. From this it follows, as is evident, that the liberty of which We have been speaking is greatly opposed to reason, and tends absolutely to pervert men's minds, in as much as it claims for itself the right of teaching whatever it pleases - a liberty which the State cannot grant without failing in its duty. And the more so because the authority of teachers has great weight with their hearers, who can rarely decide for themselves as to the truth or falsehood of the instruction given to them.

25. Wherefore, this liberty, also, in order that it may deserve the name, must be kept within certain limits, lest the office of teaching be turned with impunity into an instrument of corruption. Now, truth, which should be the only subject matter of those who teach, is of two kinds: natural and supernatural. Of natural truths, such as the principles of nature and whatever is derived from them immediately by our reason, there is a kind of common patrimony in the human race. On this, as on a firm basis, morality, justice, religion, and the very bonds of human society rest: and to allow people to go unharmed who violate or destroy it would be most impious, most foolish, and most inhuman.

26. But with no less religious care must we preserve that great and sacred treasure of the truths which God Himself has taught us. By many and convincing arguments, often used by defenders of Christianity, certain leading truths have been laid down: namely, that some things have been revealed by God; that the only-begotten Son of God was made flesh, to bear witness to the truth; that a perfect society was founded by Him - the Church, namely, of which He is the head, and with which He has promised to abide till the end of the world. To this society He entrusted all the truths which He had taught, in order that it might keep and guard them and with lawful authority explain them; and at the same time He commanded all nations to hear the voice of the Church, as if it were His own, threatening those who would nor hear it with everlasting perdition. Thus, it is manifest that man's best and surest teacher is God, the Source and Principle of all truth; and the only-begotten Son, who is in the bosom of the Father, the Way, the Truth, and the Life, the true Light which enlightens every man, and to whose teaching all must submit: "And they shall all be taught of God."(8)

27. In faith and in the teaching of morality, God Himself made the Church a partaker of His divine authority, and through His heavenly gift she cannot be deceived. She is therefore the greatest and most reliable teacher of mankind, and in her swells an inviolable right to teach them. Sustained by the truth received from her divine Founder, the Church has ever sought to fulfill holily the mission entrusted to her by God; unconquered by the difficulties on all sides surrounding her, she has never ceased to assert her liberty of teaching, and in this way the wretched superstition of paganism being dispelled, the wide world was renewed unto Christian wisdom. Now, reason itself clearly teaches that the truths of divine revelation and those of nature cannot really be opposed to one another, and that whatever is at variance with them must necessarily be false. Therefore, the divine teaching of the Church, so far from being an obstacle to the pursuit of learning and the progress of science, or in any way retarding the advance of civilization, in reality brings to them the sure guidance of shining light. And for the same reason it is of no small advantage for the perfecting of human liberty, since our Saviour Jesus Christ has said that by truth is man made free: "You shall know the truth, and the truth shall make you free."(9) Therefore, there is no reason why genuine liberty should grow indignant, or true science feel aggrieved, at having to bear the just and necessary restraint of laws by which, in the judgment of the Church and of reason itself, human teaching has to be controlled.

28, The Church, indeed - as facts have everywhere proved - looks chiefly and above all to the defense of the Christian faith, while careful at the same time to foster and promote every kind of human learning. For learning is in itself good, and praiseworthy, and desirable; and further, all erudition which is the outgrowth of sound reason, and in conformity with the truth of things, serves not a little to confirm what we believe on the authority of God. The Church, truly, to our great benefit, has carefully preserved the monuments of ancient wisdom; has opened everywhere homes of science, and has urged on intellectual progress by fostering most diligently the arts by which the culture of our age is so much advanced. Lastly, we must not forget that a vast field lies freely open to man's industry and genius, containing all those things which have no necessary connection with Christian faith and morals, or as to which the Church, exercising no authority, leaves the judgment of the learned free and unconstrained.

29. From all this may be understood the nature and character of that liberty which the followers of liberalism so eagerly advocate and proclaim. On the one hand, they demand for themselves and for the State a license which opens the way to every perversity of opinion; and on the other, they hamper the Church in divers ways, restricting her liberty within narrowest limits, although from her teaching not only is there nothing to be feared, but in every respect very much to be gained.

30. Another liberty is widely advocated, namely, liberty of conscience. If by this is meant that everyone may, as he chooses, worship God or not, it is sufficiently refuted by the arguments already adduced. But it may also be taken to mean that every man in the State may follow the will of God and, from a consciousness of duty and free from every obstacle, obey His commands. This, indeed, is true liberty, a liberty worthy of the sons of God, which nobly maintains the dignity of man and is stronger than all violence or wrong - a liberty which the Church has always desired and held most dear. This is the kind of liberty the Apostles claimed for themselves with intrepid constancy, which the apologists of Christianity confirmed by their writings, and which the martyrs in vast numbers consecrated by their blood. And deservedly so; for this Christian liberty bears witness to the absolute and most just dominion of God over man, and to the chief and supreme duty of man toward God. It has nothing in common with a seditious and rebellious mind; and in no title derogates from obedience to public authority; for the right to command and to require obedience exists only so far as it is in accordance with the authority of God, and is within the measure that He has laid down. But when anything is commanded which is plainly at variance with the will of God, there is a wide departure from this divinely constituted order, and at the same time a direct conflict with divine authority; therefore, it is right not to obey.

31. By the patrons of liberalism, however, who make the State absolute and omnipotent, and proclaim that man should live altogether independently of God, the liberty of which We speak, which goes hand in hand with virtue and religion, is not admitted; and whatever is done for its preservation is accounted an injury and an offense against the State. Indeed, if what they say were really true, there would be no tyranny, no matter how monstrous, which we should not be bound to endure and submit to.

32. The Church most earnestly desires that the Christian teaching, of which We have given an outline, should penetrate every rank of society in reality and in practice; for it would be of the greatest efficacy in healing the evils of our day, which are neither few nor slight, and are the off spring in great part of the false liberty which is so much extolled, and in which the germs of safety and glory were supposed to be contained. The hope has been disappointed by the result. The fruit, instead of being sweet and wholesome, has proved cankered and bitter. If, then, a remedy is desired, let it be sought for in a restoration of sound doctrine, from which alone the preservation of order and, as a consequence, the defense of true liberty can be confidently expected.

33. Yet, with the discernment of a true mother, the Church weighs the great burden of human weakness, and well knows the course down which the minds and actions of men are in this our age being borne. For this reason, while not conceding any right to anything save what is true and honest, she does not forbid public authority to tolerate what is at variance with truth and justice, for the sake of avoiding some greater evil, or of obtaining or preserving some greater good. God Himself in His providence, though infinitely good and powerful, permits evil to exist in the world, partly that greater good may not be impeded, and partly that greater evil may not ensue. In the government of States it is not forbidden to imitate the Ruler of the world; and, as the authority of man is powerless to prevent every evil, it has (as St. Augustine says) to overlook and leave unpunished many things which are punished, and rightly, by Divine Providence.(10) But if, in such circumstances, for the sake of the common good (and this is the only legitimate reason), human law may or even should tolerate evil, it may not and should not approve or desire evil for its own sake; for evil of itself, being a privation of good, is opposed to the common welfare which every legislator is bound to desire and defend to the best of his ability. In this, human law must endeavor to imitate God, who, as St. Thomas teaches, in allowing evil to exist in the world, "neither wills evil to be done, nor wills it not to be done, but wills only to permit it to be done; and this is good."(11) This saying of the Angelic Doctor contains briefly the whole doctrine of the permission of evil.

34. But, to judge aright, we must acknowledge that, the more a State is driven to tolerate evil, the further is it from perfection; and that the tolerance of evil which is dictated by political prudence should be strictly confined to the limits which its justifying cause, the public welfare, requires. Wherefore, if such tolerance would be injurious to the public welfare, and entail greater evils on the State, it would not be lawful; for in such case the motive of good is wanting. And although in the extraordinary condition of these times the Church usually acquiesces in certain modern liberties, not because she prefers them in themselves, but because she judges it expedient to permit them, she would in happier times exercise her own liberty; and, by persuasion, exhortation, and entreaty would endeavor, as she is bound, to fulfill the duty assigned to her by God of providing for the eternal salvation of mankind. One thing, however, remains always true - that the liberty which is claimed for all to do all things is not, as We have often said, of itself desirable, inasmuch as it is contrary to reason that error and truth should have equal rights.

35. And as to tolerance, it is surprising how far removed from the equity and prudence of the Church are those who profess what is called liberalism. For, in allowing that boundless license of which We have spoken, they exceed all limits, and end at last by making no apparent distinction between truth and error, honesty and dishonesty. And because the Church, the pillar and ground of truth, and the unerring teacher of morals, is forced utterly to reprobate and condemn tolerance of such an abandoned and criminal character, they calumniate her as being wanting in patience and gentleness, and thus fail to see that, in so doing, they impute to her as a fault what is in reality a matter for commendation. But, in spite of all this show of tolerance, it very often happens that, while they profess themselves ready to lavish liberty on all in the greatest profusion, they are utterly intolerant toward the Catholic Church, by refusing to allow her the liberty of being herself free.

36. And now to reduce for clearness' sake to its principal heads all that has been set forth with its immediate conclusions, the summing up in this briefly: that man, by a necessity of his nature, is wholly subject to the most faithful and ever-enduring power of God; and that, as a consequence, any liberty, except that which consists in submission to God and in subjection to His will, is unintelligible. To deny the existence of this authority in God, or to refuse to submit to it, means to act, not as a free man, but as one who treasonably abuses his liberty; and in such a disposition of mind the chief and deadly vice of liberalism essentially consists. The form, however, of the sin is manifold; for in more ways and degrees than one can the will depart from the obedience which is due to God or to those who share the divine power.

37. For, to reject the supreme authority to God, and to cast off all obedience to Him in public matters, or even in private and domestic affairs, is the greatest perversion of liberty and the worst kind of liberalism; and what We have said must be understood to apply to this alone in its fullest sense.

38. Next comes the system of those who admit indeed the duty of submitting to God, the Creator and Ruler of the world, inasmuch as all nature is dependent on His will, but who boldly reject all laws of faith and morals which are above natural reason, but are revealed by the authority of God; or who at least impudently assert that there is no reason why regard should be paid to these laws, at any rate publicly, by the State. How mistaken these men also are, and how inconsistent, we have seen above. From this teaching, as from its source and principle, flows that fatal principle of the separation of Church and State; whereas it is, on the contrary, clear that the two powers, though dissimilar in functions and unequal in degree, ought nevertheless to live in concord, by harmony in their action and the faithful discharge of their respective duties.

39. But this teaching is understood in two ways. Many wish the State to be separated from the Church wholly and entirely, so that with regard to every right of human society, in institutions, customs, and laws, the offices of State, and the education of youth, they would pay no more regard to the Church than if she did not exist; and, at most, would allow the citizens individually to attend to their religion in private if so minded. Against such as these, all the arguments by which We disprove the principle of separation of Church and State are conclusive; with this super-added, that it is absurd the citizen should respect the Church, while the State may hold her in contempt.

40. Others oppose not the existence of the Church, nor indeed could they; yet they despoil her of the nature and rights of a perfect society, and maintain that it does not belong to her to legislate, to judge, or to punish, but only to exhort, to advise, and to rule her subjects in accordance with their own consent and will. By such opinion they pervert the nature of this divine society, and attenuate and narrow its authority, its office of teacher, and its whole efficiency; and at the same time they aggrandize the power of the civil government to such extent as to subject the Church of God to the empire and sway of the State, like any voluntary association of citizens. To refute completely such teaching, the arguments often used by the defenders of Christianity, and set forth by Us, especially in the encyclical letter Immortale Dei,(12) are of great avail; for by those arguments it is proved that, by a divine provision, all the rights which essentially belong to a society that is legitimate, supreme, and perfect in all its parts exist in the Church.

41. Lastly, there remain those who, while they do not approve the separation of Church and State, think nevertheless that the Church ought to adapt herself to the times and conform to what is required by the modern system of government. Such an opinion is sound, if it is to be understood of some equitable adjustment consistent with truth and justice; in so far, namely, that the Church, in the hope of some great good, may show herself indulgent, and may conform to the times in so far as her sacred office permits. But it is not so in regard to practices and doctrines which a perversion of morals and a warped judgment have unlawfully introduced. Religion, truth, and justice must ever be maintained; and, as God has intrusted these great and sacred matters to her office as to dissemble in regard to what is false or unjust, or to connive at what is hurtful to religion.

42. From what has been said it follows that it is quite unlawful to demand, to defend, or to grant unconditional freedom of thought, of speech, or writing, or of worship, as if these were so many rights given by nature to man. For, if nature had really granted them, it would be lawful to refuse obedience to God, and there would be no restraint on human liberty. It likewise follows that freedom in these things may be tolerated wherever there is just cause, but only with such moderation as will prevent its degenerating into license and excess. And, where such liberties are in use, men should employ them in doing good, and should estimate them as the Church does; for liberty is to be regarded as legitimate in so far only as it affords greater facility for doing good, but no farther.

43. Whenever there exists, or there is reason to fear, an unjust oppression of the people on the one hand, or a deprivation of the liberty of the Church on the other, it is lawful to seek for such a change of government as will bring about due liberty of action. In such case, an excessive and vicious liberty is not sought, but only some relief, for the common welfare, in order that, while license for evil is allowed by the State, the power of doing good may not be hindered.

44. Again, it is not of itself wrong to prefer a democratic form of government, if only the Catholic doctrine be maintained as to the origin and exercise of power. Of the various forms of government, the Church does not reject any that are fitted to procure the welfare of the subject; she wishes only - and this nature itself requires - that they should be constituted without involving wrong to any one, and especially without violating the rights of the Church.

45. Unless it be otherwise determined, by reason of some exceptional condition of things, it is expedient to take part in the administration of public affairs. And the Church approves of every one devoting his services to the common good, and doing all that he can for the defense, preservation, and prosperity of his country.

46. Neither does the Church condemn those who, if it can be done without violation of justice, wish to make their country independent of any foreign or despotic power. Nor does she blame those who wish to assign to the State the power of self-government, and to its citizens the greatest possible measure of prosperity. The Church has always most faithfully fostered civil liberty, and this was seen especially in Italy, in the municipal prosperity, and wealth, and glory which were obtained at a time when the salutary power of the Church has spread, without opposition, to all parts of the State.

47. These things, venerable brothers, which, under the guidance of faith and reason, in the discharge of Our Apostolic office, We have now delivered to you, We hope, especially by your cooperation with Us, will be useful unto very many. In lowliness of heart We raise Our eyes in supplication to God, and earnestly beseech Him to shed mercifully the light of His wisdom and of His counsel upon men, so that, strengthened by these heavenly gifts, they may in matters of such moment discern what is true, and may afterwards, in public and private at all times and with unshaken constancy, live in accordance with the truth. As a pledge of these heavenly gifts, and in witness of Our good will to you, venerable brothers, and to the clergy and people committed to each of you, We most lovingly grant in the Lord the apostolic benediction.

 

Given at St. Peter's in Rome, the twentieth day of June, 1888, the tenth year of Our Pontificate.

 

 

LEO XIII

 

REFERENCES:

1. Ecclus. 15:14.

2. See no. 93:37-38.

3. John 8:34.

4. Thomas Aquinas, On the Gospel of St. John, cap. VIII, lect. 4, n. 3 (ed.Vives, Vol. 20 p. 95).

5. Augustine, De libero arbitrio, lib. I, cap. 6, n. 15 (PL 32, 1229).

6. Rom. 13:2.

7. Summa theologiae, IIa-IIae, q. LXXXI, a. 6. Answer.

8. John 6:45.

9. John 8:32.

10. Augustine, De libero arbitrio, lib. I, cap. 6, n. 14 (PL 32, 1228).

11. Summa theologiae, la, q. XIX, a. 9, ad 3m.

12. See no. 93:8-11. 

Friday, 2 July 2021

Friday's Sung Word: "Eu Agora Fiquei Mal" by Noel Rosa and Antenor Gargalhada (in Portuguese)

Tenho vontade de ir à Penha
Mas me falta o principal:
A mulher que me ajudava tanto
Ela deu o fora!
Eu agora fiquei mal

Esta mulher foi-se embora
Me deixou bem arruinado
Eu que estava tão sadio
Agora estou acabado
Mas agora eu peço muito
Para não escorregar
Leve o meu pedido
À Santa que está no altar

Tou vendo as coisas feias
Talvez nem possa alcançar
O final da escadaria
Que sobe pro seu altar

Nossa Senhora da Penha
Vai fazer o que puder
Se ela me livra
De toda mulher...

 

 You can listen "Eu Agora Fiquei Mal" sung by Canuto here.

Thursday, 1 July 2021

Thursday's Serial: "The Pentamerone, or the Story of Stories, Fun For The Little Ones” by Giambattista Basile. (tanslated into English by John Edward Taylor) - VI

 

THIRD DAY.

 

Ere all the Shades, imprisoned by the tribunal of Night, were liberated by the visit of the Sun, the Prince and his wife, together with the women, returned to the customary spot, to pass pleasantly the hours from morning until dinner-time. Then they summoned the musicians, and began to dance with great delight the 'Roggiero,' 'Villanella,' 'The story of the Ogre,' 'Sfessania,' 'The countryman thrashed,' 'The whole day long with that Dove,' 'Blue-bottle Fly,' 'Nymphs' Dance,' 'The Gipsy,' 'The Coquette,' 'My bright Star,' 'My sweet amorous flame,' 'She whom I seek,' 'The pretty girl and the pretty little girl,' 'Up and down,' 'The Chiaranzana,' 'Take care of him who enamours me,' 'The clouds that skim through the air,' 'The Devil in a shirt,' 'To live upon hope,' 'Change hands,' 'The Cascarda,'[1] 'Spagnoletta,' concluding the dances with Lucia Canazza, to amuse the Slave. Thus the time ran swiftly away, and ere they were aware the dinner-hour had arrived, when there appeared all the good things under heaven, which may perhaps be eaten still. And when the tables were removed, Zeza, who was on thorns of impatience to tell her story, began in the following manner.

 

1.       'The Cascade.' Probably some dance in which the couples advance and "cast off,"—as in "Sir Roger de Coverly." Some of these dances are perhaps named from the first line of songs, to the tune of which they were danced. See Notes at the end of this volume.

 

 

CANNETELLA.

It is an evil thing, my Lord, to seek for better than wheaten bread; for a man comes at last to desire what others throw away, and must content himself with honesty. He who loses all, and walks on the tops of the trees, has as much madness in his head as danger under his feet; as was the case with the daughter of a king, who is the subject of the story I have now to tell you.

There was once on a time a king of High-Hill, who longed for children more than the porters do for a funeral, that they may gather wax[1]; insomuch that he made a vow to the goddess Syrinx, that if she would cause him to have a daughter, he would name her Cannetella, to commemorate her having been turned into a reed[2]. And he prayed and prayed, until at length he found favour, and his wife Renzolla presented him with a little girl, to whom he gave the name he had promised.

The child grew by palms, and when she was as tall as a pole, the king said to her, "My daughter, you are now grown (Heaven bless you!) as large as an oak, and it is full time to provide you with a husband worthy of that pretty face. Since therefore I love you as my own life, and desire to please you, tell me I pray what sort of a husband you would like, what kind of a man would suit your fancy? Will you have him a scholar or a dunce? a boy, or a man in years? brown, or fair and ruddy? tall as a maypole, or short as a spigot? small in the waist, or round as an ox? Do you choose, and I am satisfied."

Cannetella, hearing these lavish offers, thanked her father, but told him that she would on no account encumber herself with a husband. However, being urged by the king again and again, she said, "Not to show myself ungrateful for so much love, I am willing to comply with your wish, provided I have such a man as that he has no like in the world."

Her father, delighted beyond measure at hearing this, took his station at the window from morning till evening, looking out and surveying, measuring and examining every one that passed along the street. And one day seeing a good-looking man go by, the king said to his daughter, "Run, look out, Cannetella! and see if yon man comes up to the measure of your wishes." Then she desired him to be brought up, and they made a most splendid banquet for him, at which there was everything he could desire. And as they were feasting away, an almond fell out of the youth's mouth, whereupon stooping down, he picked it up dextrously from the ground and put it under the cloth; and when they had done eating, he went away. Then the king said to Cannetella, "Well, my life, how does this youth please you?"—"Take the fellow away!" said she; "a man so tall and so big as he should never have let an almond drop out of his mouth."

When the king heard this he returned to his place at the window, and presently seeing another well-shaped youth pass by, he called his daughter, to hear whether this one pleased her. Then Cannetella desired him to be shown up; so he was called, and another entertainment was made. And when they had done eating, and the man had gone away, the king asked his daughter whether he had pleased her; whereupon she replied, "What in the world should I do with such a miserable fellow, who wants at least to have a couple of servants with him to take off his cloak?"

"If that be the case," said the king, "it is plain that these are merely the excuses of a bad paymaster, and you are only looking for pretexts to refuse me this pleasure. So resolve quickly, for I am determined to have you married." To these angry words Cannetella replied, "To tell you the truth plainly[3], papa, and as I really feel, you are digging in the sea and making a wrong reckoning on your fingers; for I never will subject myself to any man living who has not a golden head and teeth." The poor king, seeing his daughter's head thus turned, issued a proclamation, bidding any one in his kingdom who should answer to Cannetella's wishes to appear, and he would give him his daughter and the kingdom.

Now this king had a mortal enemy named Fioravante, whom he could not bear to see so much as even painted on a wall, who, when he heard of this proclamation, being a cunning magician, called a parcel of that evil brood to him, and commanded them forthwith to make his head and teeth of gold. So they did as he desired; and when he saw himself with a head and teeth of pure gold[4], he walked past under the window of the king, who when he saw the very man he was looking for, called his daughter: and as soon as Cannetella set eyes upon him, she cried out, "Ay, that is he! he could not be better if I had kneaded him with my own hands."

When Fioravante was getting up to go away, the king said to him, "Wait a little, brother,—why in such a hurry? one would think you had a pledge in the hands of a Jew, or quicksilver in your body, or a branch of furze tied behind you. Fair and softly! I will give you my daughter, and baggage and servants to accompany you, for I wish her to be your wife."

"I thank you," said Fioravante, "but there is no necessity: a single horse is enough, if the beast will carry double; for at home I have servants and goods as numerous as the sands on the seashore." So after arguing awhile, Fioravante at last prevailed, and placing Cannetella behind him on a horse he set out.

In the evening, when the red horses are taken away from the corn-mill of the sky, and the white oxen are yoked in their place, they came to a stable where some horses were feeding; and leading Cannetella into it, Fioravante said to her, "Listen! I have to make a journey to my own house, and it will take me seven years to get there. Mind therefore and wait for me in this stable, and do not stir out, nor let yourself be seen by any living person, or else I will make you remember it as long as you live." Cannetella replied, "You are my lord and master, and I will perform your command to a tittle; but I should like merely to know what you will leave me to live upon in the meantime." And Fioravante answered, "What the horses leave of their corn will be enough for you."

Only conceive how poor Cannetella now felt, and guess whether she did not curse the hour and the moment when she was born! cold and frozen, she made up with her tears what she wanted in food, cursing her fate and abusing the stars, which had brought her down from a royal palace to a stable, from mattresses of Barbary wool to straw, and from nice delicate morsels to the leavings of horses. And she led this miserable life for several months, during which time corn was given to the horses by an unseen hand, and what they left supported her.

But at the end of this time, as she was standing one day looking through a hole, she saw a most beautiful garden, in which there were so many espaliers of lemons, and grottos of citrons, and beds of flowers, and fruit-trees and trellises of vines, that it was a joy to behold. At this sight a great longing seized her for a fine bunch of grapes that caught her eye, and she said to herself, "Come what will, and if the sky fall, I will go out silently and softly and pluck it: what will it matter a hundred years hence? who is there to tell my husband? and should he by chance hear of it, what will he do to me? moreover these grapes are none of the common sort." So saying she went out, and refreshed her spirits, which were weakened by hunger.

A little while afterwards, and before the appointed time, her husband came back, and one of his horses accused Cannetella of having taken the grapes; whereat Fioravante in a rage, drawing a knife from his breeches pocket, was going to kill her; but falling on her knees upon the ground, she besought him to stay his hand from the deed, since hunger drives the wolf from the wood. And she begged so hard, that Fioravante replied, "I forgive you this time, and grant you your life out of charity; but if ever again you are tempted to disobey me, and I find that you have let the sun see you, I will make mincemeat of you. Now mind me,—I am going away once more, and shall for certain be gone seven years; so take care and plough straight, for you will not escape so easily again, but I shall pay you off the new and the old scores together."

So saying he departed, and Cannetella shed a river of tears; and wringing her hands, beating her breast, and tearing her hair, she cried, "Oh that ever I was born into the world, to be destined to this wretched fate! O father, how have you ruined me! but why do I complain of my father, when I have brought this ill upon myself? I alone am the cause of my misfortunes. Here have I been wishing for a head of gold, only to fall into trouble[5] and die by iron. Alas, how richly I deserve it! by wishing my teeth of gold, I am making the golden tooth. This is the punishment of Heaven, for I ought to have done my father's will, and not have had such whims and fancies: he who minds not what his father and mother say, goes a road he does not know."

Not a day passed that she did not make this lament, until her eyes were become two fountains, and her face was so thin and sallow that it went to one's heart to see her. Where now were those sparkling eyes? where those rosy apples? where the little smile upon that mouth? her own father would not have known her.

At the end of a year the king's locksmith, whom Cannetella knew, happening to pass by the stable, she called to him, and went out. The smith hearing himself called by his name, and not recognizing the poor girl (she was so altered), was in utter amazement; but when he heard who she was, and how she had become thus changed, partly out of pity for the maiden and partly to gain the king's favour, he put her into an empty cask, which he had with him on a pack-horse, and trotting off towards High-Hill, he arrived at midnight at the king's palace. Then he knocked at the door, and the servants, going to the window and hearing that it was the locksmith, fell to abusing him soundly, calling him an ill-mannered fellow for coming at such an hour to disturb the sleep of the whole house; adding, that he would come off cheaply if they did not pelt him with stones and give him a broken pate.

The king, hearing the uproar, and being told by a chamberlain what was the matter, ordered the smith to be instantly admitted; judging that since he made bold to come at such an unusual hour, something extraordinary must have happened. Then the smith, unloading his beast, knocked out the head of the cask, and forth came Cannetella, who required something more than words to make her father recognize her; and had it not been for a wart on her right arm, she might have taken herself off. But as soon as he was assured of the whole truth, he embraced her and kissed her a thousand times; then he instantly commanded a warm bath to be got ready, and when she was washed from head to foot, and had drest herself, he ordered breakfast to be brought, for she was dying with hunger. Then her father said to her, "Who would ever have told me, my child, that I should see you in this plight? what a face indeed! who has brought you to this sad condition?" And she answered, "Alas, my dear sir! that Barbary Turk has made me lead the life of a dog, so that I was every hour on the point of giving up the ghost[6]. But I will not tell you all I have suffered, for greatly as it exceeds human endurance, so much does it pass human belief. Enough, my father, that I am here! and never again will I stir from your feet; rather will I be a servant in your house, than a queen in the house of another; rather will I wear sackcloth where you are, than a golden mantle away from you; rather will I turn a spit in your kitchen, than hold a sceptre under the canopy of another."

Meanwhile Fioravante returning home, was told by the horses that the locksmith had carried off Cannetella in the cask; on hearing which, burning with shame and all on fire with rage, of he ran towards High-Hill; and meeting an old woman who lived opposite to the king's palace, he said to her, "What will you take, good mother, to let me see the king's daughter?" Then she asked a hundred ducats; and Fioravante putting his hand in his purse instantly counted them out, one a-top of another; whereupon the old woman led him up on to the roof, from whence he saw Cannetella out on a balcony drying her hair. But—just as if her heart had whispered to her—the maiden turned that way, and perceiving the snare, rushed down the stairs and ran to her father, crying out, "My lord, if you do not this very instant make me a chamber with seven iron doors, I am lost and undone!"

"I will not lose you for such a trifle," said her father; "I would pluck out an eye to gratify such a dear daughter." So, no sooner said than done, the doors were instantly made.

When Fioravante heard of this, he went again to the old woman, and said to her, "What shall I give you now? go to the king's house under pretext of selling cups of rouge, and entering the room where his daughter is, contrive to slip this little piece of paper among the bed-clothes, saying in an under tone as you place it there,

 

'Let every one now soundly sleep,

But Cannetella awake shall keep!'"

 

So the old woman agreed for another hundred ducats, and she served him faithfully. Woe to him who allows these vile jades to come to his house! for under the pretence of carrying about articles of dress, they dress your very life and honour into morocco-leather.

Now as soon as the old woman had done this good office, such a sound sleep fell on the people of the house, that they seemed just as if they had all their throats cut. Cannetella alone remained awake, and when she heard the doors bursting open, she began to cry aloud as if she were burnt; but no one heard her—there was no one to run to her aid; so Fioravante threw down all the seven doors, and entering the chamber seized up Cannetella, bed-clothes and all, to carry her off; but as luck would have it, the paper which the old woman had put among them fell on the ground, and the powder was spilt; whereupon the people of the house awoke, and hearing Cannetella's shrieks, they ran—cats, dogs, and all—and laying hold on the ogre, quickly cut him in pieces like a pickled tunny. Thus he was caught in the same trap that he had prepared for poor Cannetella, learning to his cost that

 

"No one suffereth greater pain

Than he who by his own weapon is slain."

 

When Zeza had ended her story, all were of opinion that Cannetella deserved this, and even worse, for seeking a hair inside the egg: they rejoiced however to see her at length freed from all her troubles, and observed, that she who had held her head so high and scorned all men, was brought at last to humble herself to a smith, and beg him to help her out of trouble. But the desire to hear Ciulla put a stop to the conversation, and the ears of all present stood erect at the motion of her lips.

 

1.       At funerals and in public processions the poor people pick up the wax that falls from the tapers, and the flowers that are dropt by the way.

2.       Canna

3.       Fora de li diente—'out of the teeth.' In Ireland folks say in like manner 'out of the face.'

4.       Literally, 'four-and-twenty carats fine'—the standard of pure gold.

5.       Literally, pe cadere 'nchiummo—'to fall into lead.'

6.       Co lo spireto a li diente,—'with the breath between my teeth.'

 

 

 

 

CORVETTO.

I once heard say, that Juno went to Candia to find Falsehood; but if any one were to ask me where fraud and hypocrisy might truly be found, I should know of no other place to name than the Court, where detraction always wears the mask of amusement, slander goes drest as a Graziano[1], treachery as a Zany, and villainy as a Polichinello; where at the same time people cut and sew up, wound and heal, break and glue together; of which I will give you only one instance, in the story which I am going to tell you.

There was once upon a time in the service of the King of Wide-River an excellent youth named Corvetto, who for his good conduct was beloved by his master, and for this very cause was disliked and hated by all the courtiers; in fact they were such bats of ignorance, that they could not see the lustre of the virtue of Corvetto, who purchased his master's favour with the ready money of good behaviour. But the zephyrs of the kindness which the king showed Corvette were sciroccos to the spite and malice of these courtiers, who were bursting with envy; so that all the day long, in every corner of the palace, they did nothing but tattle and whisper, murmur and grumble at the poor lad, saying, "What sorcery has this fellow[2] practised on the king, that he takes such a fancy to him? how comes he by this luck, that not a day passes but he receives some new favours, whilst we are for ever going backwards like the rope-maker, and getting from bad to worse, though we slave like dogs, sweat like field-labourers, and race about like deer, to hit the king's pleasure to a hair? Truly one must be born to good fortune in this world, and he who has not luck may as well throw himself into the sea. What is to be done? we can only look on and burst."

These and other words flew from the bow of their mouth, like poisoned arrows aimed at the butt of Corvetto's ruin. Alas for him who is condemned to that infernal den the court, where flattery is sold by kilderkins, malignity and ill offices are measured out in bushels, deceit and treachery are weighed by the ton! But who can count all the bits of orange-peel these courtiers put under his feet to make him slip, or tell the soap of falseness with which they besmeared the ladder to the king's ears, to make Corvette fall and break his neck? who can tell the pitfalls of deceit dug in the king's brain, and covered over with the sticks and straws of pretended zeal, to make him tumble? But Corvetto, who was enchanted, and perceived the traps and discovered the tricks, was aware of all the nets, and was up to all the intrigues, the ambuscades, the plots and conspiracies of his enemies, kept his ears always on the alert and his eyes open, in order not to set a false step, well knowing that the fortune of courtiers is glass. But the higher the lad continued to rise, the lower the others fell; and at last being puzzled to know how to take him off his feet, as their slander was not believed, they thought of leading him to a precipice by the path of flattery (an art invented in a certain hot house, and perfected in the court), which they attempted in the following manner.

Ten miles distant from Scotland, where the seat of this king was, there dwelt an ogre, the most inhuman and savage that had ever been in ogre-land, who, being persecuted by the king, had fortified himself in a lonesome wood on the top of a mountain, where no bird ever flew, and which was so thick and tangled that it could never get a sight of the sun. This ogre had a most beautiful horse, which looked as if it were formed with a pencil; and amongst other wonderful things was that it could speak like any man. Now the courtiers, who knew how wicked the ogre was, how thick the wood, how high the mountain, and how difficult it was to get at the horse, went to the king, and telling him minutely the perfections of the animal, which was a thing worthy of a king, added that he ought to endeavour by all means to get it out of the ogre's claws, and that Corvetto was just the lad to do this, as he was expert and clever at escaping out of the fire. The king, who knew not that under the flowers of these words a serpent was concealed, instantly called Corvetto, and said to him, "If you love me, see that in some way or another you obtain for me the horse of my enemy the ogre, and you shall have no cause to regret having done me this service."

Corvetto knew well that this drum was sounded by those who wished him ill; nevertheless, to obey the king, he set out and took the road to the mountain; then going very quietly to the ogre's stable, he saddled and mounted the horse, and fixing his feet firmly in the stirrup took his way back. But as soon as the horse saw himself spurred out of the palace, he cried aloud, "Hollo! be on your guard! Corvetto is riding off with me." At this alarm the ogre instantly set out, with all the animals that served him, to cut Corvetto in pieces: from this side jumped an ape, from that was seen a large bear, here sprang forth a lion, there came running a wolf. But the youth, by the aid of bridle and spur, distanced the mountain, and galloping without stop to the city, arrived at the court, where he presented the horse to the king.

Then the king embraced him more than a son, and pulling out his purse filled his hands with crown-pieces. At this the rage of the courtiers knew no bounds; and whereas at first they were pulled up with a little pipe, they were now bursting with the blasts of a smith's bellows; seeing that the crowbars with which they thought to lay Corvetto's good fortune in ruins, only served to smooth the road to his prosperity. Knowing however that walls are not levelled by the first attack of the battering-ram, they resolved to try their luck a second time, and said to the king, "We wish you joy of the beautiful horse! it will indeed be an ornament to the royal stable; but what a pity you have not the ogre's tapestry, which is a thing more beautiful than words can tell, and would spread your fame far and wide! there is no one however able to procure this treasure but Corvetto, who is just the lad to do such a kind of service."

Then the king, who danced to every tune, and ate only the peel of this bitter but sugared fruit, called Corvetto, and begged him to procure for him the ogre's tapestry. Off went Corvetto, and in four seconds was on the top of the mountain where the ogre lived: then passing unseen into the chamber in which he slept, he hid himself under the bed, and waited as still as a mouse, until Night, to make the Stars laugh, puts a carnival-mask on the face of the Sky. And as soon as the ogre and his wife were gone to bed, Corvetto stripped the walls of the chamber very quietly, and wishing to steal the counterpane of the bed likewise, he began to pull it gently. Thereupon the ogre, suddenly starting up, told his wife not to pull so, for she was dragging all the clothes off him, and would give him his death of cold.

"Why you are uncovering me!" answered the ogress; "there's not a thing left upon me!"

"Where the deuce is the counterpane?" replied the ogre; and stretching out his hand to the floor, he touched Corvetto's face; whereupon he set up a loud cry, "The monaciello! the monaciello! hollo, here, lights! run quickly!" till the whole house was turned topsy-turvy with the noise. But Corvetto, after throwing the clothes out of the window, let himself drop down upon them. Then making up a good bundle, he set out on the road to the city, where the reception he met with from the king, and the vexation of the courtiers, who were bursting with spite, are not to be told. Nevertheless they laid a plan to fall upon Corvetto with the rear-guard of their roguery, and went again to the king, who was almost beside himself with delight at the tapestry, which was not only of silk embroidered with gold, but had besides more than a thousand devices and thoughts worked on it; and amongst the rest, if I remember right, there was a cock in the act of crowing at daybreak, and out of its mouth was seen coming a motto in Tuscan,—If I only see you[3]; and in another part a drooping heliotrope with a Tuscan motto, At sunset; with so many other pretty things that it would require a better memory and more time than I have to relate them.

When the courtiers came to the king, who was thus transported with joy, they said to him, "As Corvetto has done so much to serve you, it would be no great matter for him, in order to give you a signal pleasure, to get the ogre's palace, which is fit for an emperor to live in; for it has so many rooms and chambers, inside and out, that it can hold an army; and you would never believe all the courtyards, porticos, colonnades, balconies, and spiral chimneys which there are, built with such marvellous architecture, that art prides herself upon them, nature is abashed, and stupor is in delight."

The king, who had a fruitful brain which conceived quickly, called Corvetto again, and telling him the great longing that had seized him for the ogre's palace, begged him to add this service to all the others he had done him, promising to score it up with the chalk of gratitude at the tavern of memory. So Corvetto, who was a brimstone match and made a hundred miles an hour, instantly set out heels over head; and arriving at the ogre's palace, he found that the ogress had just given birth to a fine little ogreling; and whilst her husband was gone to invite the kinsfolk, she had got out of bed, and was busying herself with preparing the feast. Then Corvetto entering, with a look of compassion, said, "Good-day, my good woman! truly you are a brave housewife! but why do you torment the very life out of you in this way? only yesterday you were put to bed, and now you are slaving thus, and have no pity on your own flesh."

"What would you have me do?" replied the ogress, "I have no one to help me."

"I am here," answered Corvetto, "ready to help you tooth and nail."

"Welcome then!" said the ogress; "and as you proffer me so much kindness, just help me to split four logs of wood."

"With all my heart," answered Corvetto; "but if four logs are not enow, let me split five." And taking up a newly-ground axe, instead of striking the wood, he struck the ogress on the neck, and made her fall to the ground like a pear. Then running quickly to the gate, he dug a deep hole before the entrance, and covering it over with bushes and earth, he hid himself behind the gate.

As soon as Corvetto saw the ogre coming with his kinsfolk, he set up a loud cry in the courtyard, "Stop, stop! I've caught him!" and "Long live the king of Wide-River!" When the ogre heard this challenge, he ran like mad at Corvetto, to make a hash of him; but rushing furiously towards the gate, down he tumbled with all his companions, head over heels to the bottom of the pit, where Corvetto speedily stoned them to death. Then he shut the door, and took the keys to the king, who seeing the valour and cleverness of the lad, in spite of ill-fortune and the envy and annoyance of the courtiers, gave him his daughter to wife; so that the crosses of envy had proved rollers to launch Corvetto's bark of life on the sea of greatness; whilst his enemies remained confounded and bursting with rage, and went to bed without a candle; for

 

"The punishment of ill deeds past,

Though long delay'd, yet comes at last."

 

There were courtiers in plenty around the Prince who would have betrayed their anger at seeing him touched to the quick by this story, had they not possessed the art of dissembling; nor could they say which was greatest, their vexation at hearing themselves upbraided for their roguery, or their envy at Corvetto's happiness. But Paola now began to speak, and drew their soul out of the well of their own feelings with the book of these words.

 

1.       A clown.

2.       Sto caccia-l'appascere—a name for a booby; because the greatest fools were commonly "sent to tend" the swine, &c.

3.       There is a play upon the words in the Italian,—"Sol (Sun) ch'io ti miri!"

 

 

THE BOOBY.

An ignorant man who associates with clever people has always been more praised than a wise man who keeps the company of fools; for as much profit and fame as one may gain from the former, so much wealth and honour one may lose by the fault of the latter; and as the proof of the pudding is in the eating[1], you will know from the story which I am going to tell you whether my proposition be true.

There was once a man who was as rich as the sea, but as there can never be any perfect happiness in this world, he had a son so idle and good-for-nothing that he could not tell a carob from a cucumber. So being unable any longer to put up with his folly, he gave him a good handful of crowns, and sent him to trade in the Levant; for he well knew that seeing various countries and mixing with divers people awaken the genius, sharpen the judgement, and make men expert.

Moscione (for that was the name of the son) got on horseback, and began his journey towards Venice, the arsenal of the wonders of the world, to embark on board some vessel bound for Cairo; and when he had travelled a good day's journey, he met with a person who was standing fixed at the foot of a poplar, to whom he said, "What is your name, my lad? whence are you? and what is your trade?" And the lad replied, "My name is Lightning; I am from Arrowland, and I can run like the wind."—"I should like to see a proof of it," said Moscione; and Lightning answered, "Wait a moment, and you will see whether it is dust or flour."

When they had stood waiting a little while, a doe came bounding over the plain, and Lightning, letting her pass on some way, to give her the more law, darted after her so rapidly and light of foot, that he would have gone over a place covered with flour without leaving the mark of his shoe, and in four bounds he came up with her. Moscione, amazed at this exploit, asked if he would come and live with him, and promised to pay him royally.

So Lightning consented, and they went on their way together; but they had not journeyed many miles when they met another youth, to whom Moscione said, "What is your name, comrade? what country are you from? and what's your trade?" "My name," replied the lad, "is Hare's-ear; I am from Vale-Curious; and when I put my ear to the ground I hear all that is passing in the world without stirring from the spot. I perceive the monopolies and agreements of tradespeople to raise the prices of things, the ill-offices of courtiers, the appointments of lovers, the plots of robbers, the reports of spies, the complaints of servants, the gossiping of old women, and the oaths of sailors; so that neither Lucian's cock[2] nor Franco's lantern discovered so much as my ears can."

"If that be true," said Moscione, "tell me what they are now saying at my home."

So the lad put his ear to the ground, and replied, "An old man is talking to his wife, and saying, 'Praised be Sol in Leo! I have got rid from my sight of that fellow Moscione, that face of old-fashioned crockery, that nail in my heart. By travelling through the world he will at least become a man, and no longer be such a stupid ass, such a simpleton, such a lose-the-day fellow, such a—"

"Stop, stop!" cried Moscione; "you tell the truth, and I believe you. So come along with me, for you have found the road to good-luck."

"Well and good!" said the youth. So they all went on together and travelled ten miles further, when they met another man, to whom Moscione said, "What is your name, my brave fellow? where were you born? and what can you do in the world?" And the man answered, "My name is Shootstraight; I am from Castle Aimwell; and I can shoot with a crossbow so point-blank as to hit a crab-apple in the middle."

"I should like to see the proof," said Moscione. So the lad charged his crossbow, took aim, and made a pea leap from the top of a stone; whereupon Moscione took him also like the others into his company. And they travelled on another day's journey, till they came to some people who were building a large pier in the scorching heat of the sun, and who might well say, "Boy, put water to the wine, for my heart is burning." So Moscione had compassion on them, and said, "My masters, how is it you have the head to stand in this furnace, which is fit to roast a buffalo?" And one of them answered, "Oh, we are as cool as a rose; for we have a young man here who blows upon us from behind in such a manner that it seems just as if the west wind were blowing." "Let me see him, I pray," cried Moscione. So the mason called the lad, and Moscione said to him, "Tell me, by the life of your father, what is your name? what country are you from? and what is your profession?" And the lad replied, "My name is Blowblast; I am from Windy-land; and I can make all the winds with my mouth. If you wish for a zephyr, I will breathe one that will send you into transports; if you wish for a squall, I will throw down houses."

"Seeing is believing," said Moscione. Whereupon Blowblast breathed at first quite gently, so that it seemed to be the wind that blows at Posilippo towards evening; then turning suddenly to some trees, he sent forth such a furious blast that it uprooted a row of oaks.

When Moscione saw this he took him for a companion; and travelling on as far again, he met another lad, to whom he said, "What is your name, if I may make so bold? whence are you, if one may ask? and what is your trade, if it is a fair question?" And the lad answered, "My name is Strongback; I am from Valentino, and I have such strength that I can take a mountain on my back, and it seems to me only a feather."

"If that be the case," said Moscione, "you deserve to be the king of the custom-house, and you should be chosen for standard-bearer on the first of May[3]. But I should like to see a proof of what you say."

Then Strongback began to load himself with masses of rock, trunks of trees, and so many other weights, that a thousand large waggons could not have carried them; which when Moscione saw, he agreed with the lad to join him.

So they travelled on, till they came to Fair-Flower, the king of which place had a daughter who ran like the wind, and could pass over the waving corn without bending an ear; and the king had issued a proclamation, that whoever could overtake her in running should have her to wife, but whoever was left behind should lose his head.

When Moscione arrived in this country, and heard the proclamation, he went straight to the king, and offered to run with his daughter, making the wise agreement either to win the race or leave his noddle there. But in the morning he sent to inform the king that he was taken ill, and being unable to run himself, he would send another young man in his place. "Come who will!" said Ciannetella (for that was the king's daughter), "I care not a fig—it is all one to me."

So when the great square was filled with people, come to see the race, insomuch that the men swarmed like ants, and the windows and roofs were all as full as an egg, Lightning came out and took his station at the top of the square, waiting for the signal. And lo! forth came Ciannetella, drest in a little gown, tucked halfway up her legs, and a neat and pretty little shoe with a single sole. Then they placed themselves shoulder to shoulder; and as soon as the tarantara and too-too of the trumpets was heard, off they darted, running at such a rate that their heels touched their shoulders, and in truth they seemed just like hares with the greyhounds after them, horses broken loose from the stable, dogs with kettles tied to their tails, or jackasses with furze-bushes behind them. But Lightning (as he was both by name and nature) left the princess more than a handsbreadth behind him, and came first to the goal. Then you should have heard the huzzaing and shouting, the cries and the uproar, the whistling and clapping of hands of all the people, bawling out, "Hurra! Long life to the stranger!" Whereat Ciannetella's face turned as red as a schoolboy's who is going to be whipped, and she stood lost in shame and confusion at seeing herself vanquished. But as there were to be two heats to the race, she fell to planning how to be revenged for this affront; and going home, she put a charm into a ring, of such power, that if any one had it upon his finger, his legs would totter so that he would not be able to walk, much less to run; then she sent it as a present to Lightning; begging him to wear it on his finger for love of her.

Quickear, who heard this trick plotted between the father and daughter, said nothing, and waited to see the upshot of the affair. And when, at the trumpeting of the birds, the Sun whipped on the Night, who sat mounted on the jackass of the Shades[4], they returned to the field, where at the usual signal they fell to plying their heels. But if Ciannetella was like another Atalanta, Lightning had become no less like a shoulder-slipped ass and a foundered horse, for he could not stir a step. But Shootstraight, who saw his comrade's danger, and heard from Quickear how matters stood, laid hold on his crossbow, and shot a bolt so exactly that it hit Lightning's finger, and out flew the stone from the ring, in which the virtue of the charm lay; whereupon his legs, that had been tied, were set free, and with four goat-leaps he passed Cianuetella and won the race.

The king seeing this victory of a blockhead, the palm thus carried off by a simpleton, the triumph of a fool, bethought himself seriously whether or no he should give him his daughter; and taking counsel with the wiseacres of his court, they replied that Ciauuetella was not a mouthful for the tooth of such a miserable dog and lose-the-day bird, and that without breaking his word he might commute the promise of his daughter for a gift of crowns, which would be more to the taste of a poor beggar like Moscione than all the women in the world.

This advice pleased the king, and he asked Moscione how much money he would take instead of the wife who had been promised him. Then Moscione, after consulting with the others, answered, "I will take as much gold and silver as one of my comrades can carry on his back." The king consented; whereupon they brought Strongback, on whom they began to load bales of ducats, sacks of patacas, large purses full of crowns, barrels of copper money, chests full of chains and rings; but the more they loaded him the firmer he stood, just like a tower, so that the treasury, the banks, the usurers, and the money-dealers of the city did not suffice, and he sent to all the great people in every direction to borrow their silver candlesticks, basins, jugs, plates, trays and baskets; and yet all was not enough to make up the full load. At length they went away, not laden, but tired and satisfied.

When the councillors saw what heaps and stores these four miserable dogs were carrying off, they said to the king that it was a great piece of assery to load them with all the sinews of his kingdom, and that it would be well to send people after them to lessen the load of that Atlas who was carrying on his shoulders a heaven of treasure. The king gave ear to this advice, and immediately despatched a party of armed men, foot and horse, to overtake Moscione and his friends. But Quickear, who had heard this counsel, informed his comrades; and while the dust was rising to the sky from the trampling of those who were coming to unload the rich cargo, Blowblast, seeing that things were come to a bad pass, began to blow at such a rate, that he not only made the enemies fall flat on the ground, but he sent them flying more than a mile distant, as the north wind does folks who pass through that country. So without meeting any more hindrance, Moscione arrived at his father's house, where he shared the booty with his companions, since, as the saying goes, a good deed deserves a good meed. So he sent them away content and happy; but he stayed with his father, rich beyond measure, and saw himself an ass laden with gold, not giving the lie to the saying,

 

"Heaven sends biscuits to him who has no teeth."

 

No sooner was this story ended, than, according to the command of the Prince, Giallaise and Cola Jacovo, one the cook and the other the butler of the Court, made their appearance, clad in the old Neapolitan dress, and began a dialogue, which was vastly relished by all the auditors, who, enchanted with the pleasure, were scarcely aware that the Sun, tired of journeying the whole day long through the fields of heaven, having driven the Stars to the torch-dance, had retired to change his shirt. But as it was now growing dusk, after receiving the usual command to return the next day, they all retired to their homes.

 

1.       Literally, 'as the proof of the ham is in the stick,'—which a person thrusts into the meat to taste its flavour.

2.       See Lucian's "Somnium, vel Gallus."

3.       The porters in the custom-house at Naples are remarkable for their strength. A fête is held in that city on the first of May, in which a standard with a pole of an enormous height is carried by the strongest man.

4.       One mode of punishment in Naples was for the criminal to ride through the city on a jackass, with a paper cap (mitera) on his head, and whipped on his naked back.