The Venerable Don Bosco, the Apostle of Youth/Chapter VIII
CHAPTER VIII
THE IMMACULATE CONCEPTION. A CATECHISM CLASS. SIGNOR URBAIN RATAZZI. PRISONERS
December 8th of that eventful year, 1854, was a day of high festivity at the Oratory—the day on which the dogma of the Immaculate Conception of Our Lady was proclaimed by Pius IX. A solemn Te Deum was sung; and Don Bosco preached a sermon that was a model of eloquence and teeming with sound doctrine, every word of which was a flame that shot forth from the fire of love that consumed his heart for Mary, the Immaculate Mother of God.
On one of the following Sundays Don Bosco was teaching catechism. To his explanation of dogma and morals, he was accustomed to add remarks upon the history of the Church. Suddenly one little boy rose to his feet and questioned the Father.
"If Trajan was unjust in banishing Pope St. Clement, what must we think of our government exiling Archbishop Franzoni?"
There was a large congregation; no doubt strangers were there. Don Bosco, never disconcerted, answered the question clearly and briefly, concluding with the words: "Let us leave the problems of the present epoch to the decision of the catechism class of a hundred years to come, when we shall have passed into the domain of history. Let us be satisfied in respecting authority, whether civil or religious." The child persisted, but was adroitly silenced by the catechist.
On leaving the chapel Don Bosco was accosted by a stranger of distinguished appearance, who congratulated him on the clear reply he had given to the boy's difficult question.
"You came to criticise?" asked Don Bosco with a smile.
"Perhaps so," was the answer.
"May I ask, sir, to whom I have the honor of speaking?"
"I am Urbain Ratazzi, the prime minister."
"What?" exclaimed Don Bosco in admiration, "the great Ratazzi?"
"Yes, Father, and in future you need not dread interference. Though the Archbishop's acts do not meet with my approval, yet I am glad he was not banished during my administration."
The interview lasted an hour; Ratazzi visited the Oratory and departed so well pleased that, while he remained in power, Don Bosco had in him a faithful protector and advocate. These two men, both renowned in Italy and beyond it, met later in more than one friendly conference; for Ratazzi esteemed Don Bosco and in his turn the Apostle of Turin hoped to induce the prime minister to adopt the methods of reform he had found so efficacious and introduce them into prisons and reformatories for boys.
"Let us try to prevent instead of repressing crime," he urged, "a more humane and a far more economical method… Form Christians and you have good citizens; but, alas! I know we can never attain to the realization of this ideal; if we could, judges, prisons, police and even a standing army might be suppressed."
Ratazzi was convinced; and, though his convictions never found practical execution, yet he showed publicly his confidence in the founder of the Salesian Society. I cannot forbear quoting one of many remarkable incidents of Don Bosco's after experience in which Ratazzi's influence was the turning point. It inculcates, too, more than one great lesson and proclaims in a striking manner Don Bosco's supremacy in the domain of human hearts.
In May, 1855, Don Bosco preached a retreat of eight days to the prisoners of the chief jail of Turin, La Generala. His words were so luminous and effective, so filled with the Spirit of God, that nearly four hundred of his hearers were moved to sincere contrition and approached the Sacraments with great fervor and piety. The retreat over, Don Bosco's fertile mind and great heart invented a most astonishing mode of reward for his penitents. He went to the governor of the jail and asked a day's freedom for all who had attended the holy exercises.
"A day's freedom!" echoed the governor in consternation. "We should have to send all the soldiers in the kingdom to re-capture the criminals."
"Pardon me, governor, you are mistaken," insisted Don Bosco gently; "I shall appeal to honor, conscience; I do not want even one policeman."
The governor frowned; he evidently thought Don Bosco mad.
"Honor? Conscience?" he questioned. "The honor of thieves! The conscience of assassins!"
Nevertheless, he forwarded the petition and was astounded when it was returned "Granted," and signed by Ratazzi. He went to remonstrate with the prime minister, but was quietly told, "I wish the experiment tried."
Don Bosco's proposal was hailed with joy by the prisoners. While awaiting the permission, he talked to them in a fatherly manner, appealing to their honor and every one gave his word not to try to escape.
I cite a brief record of this strange holiday—this little oasis of happiness in the hard desert life of those unfortunate men:
"The next morning—a glorious day—Don Bosco, with his suite, started after Mass for the royal gardens of Stupinigi. Three or four hundred prisoners, marching in perfect order, joyous and unguarded, through the streets of Turin, solely under Don Bosco's custody, was a strange sight. The way to the gardens was long, but the prisoners, though weakened by confinement, found it short; the air was sweet, the walk through the green fields delightful; a pleasure long unknown.
"Observing that Don Bosco seemed fatigued, they surrounded him and mounted him on the donkey, from which they unloaded the baskets of provisions, to hoist them to their own shoulders. By turns they led the animal, chatting at their ease with the good Father, to whom they owed this happy day. In the evening the Turin people, amazed, saw them return in equal discipline, not one missing. Don Bosco, in duty bound, went to thank Ratazzi and give a report of the day. 'Indeed,' said the minister, 'you apostles of God have more power in your moral influence than we have in the material influence which we command. You persuade and vanquish the heart: that we cannot do; it is a reserved department.'"
Can anyone conceive of a purely human leader in a procession like this?
The Basilica of Mary Help of Christians and the Oratory of Saint Francis of Sales, Valdocco