Curia; he knows, as every thinking German knows, that, with the
possible exception of the British monarchy, no other is so hated
by the Vatican monsignori as his own. He is perfectly aware of
the part taken in that quarter against his country and dynasty at
all times, and especially during the recent wars; and yet all
this seems not to influence him in the slightest as regards
justice to his Roman Catholic subjects. He does indeed, resist
the return of the Jesuits into the empire,--his keen insight
forbids him to imitate the policy of Frederick the Great in this
respect,--but his dealings with the Roman Catholic Church at
large show not merely wisdom but kindliness. If he felt bound to
resist, and did successfully resist, the efforts of Cardinal
Rampolla to undermine German rule and influence in Alsace and
Lorraine, there was a quiet fairness and justice in his action
which showed a vast deal of tolerant wisdom. His visits to the
old Abbey of Laach, his former relations with its young abbot,
his settlement of a vexed question by the transfer of the abbot
to the bishopric of Metz, his bringing of a loyal German into
episcopal power at Strasburg, his recent treatment of the prince
bishop of Breslau and the archbishop of Cologne, all show a wise
breadth of view. Perhaps one of the brightest diplomatic strokes
in his career was his dealing with a Vatican question during his
journey in the East. For years there had been growing up in world
politics the theory that France, no matter how she may deal with
monks and nuns and ultramontane efforts within her own immediate
boundaries, is their protector in all the world beside, and
especially in the Holy Land. The relation of this theory to the
Crimean War, fifty years ago, is one of the curious things of
history, and from that day to this it has seemed to be hardening
more and more into a fixed policy--even into something like a