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Blessed Frederic Ozanam (1813 – 1853)
Biography
To beatify
someone does not mean to erect a statue of the person. On the
contrary, according to the Latin etymology (beatificare =
beatum facere), it means “to make happy”.
Indeed, in
beatifying Frederic Ozanam, the Church solemnly proclaims in the
light of God and for all eternity to all of Christendom, and all
youth in particular, the sanctity of the principal founder of
the Society of Saint Vincent de Paul. At the same time we are
all “made happy” because this admirable witness given by one of
our brothers in Christ and in humanity fills us with joy, hope
and courage.
Over the
centuries, the Church has raised men and women to the altar;
many have been adults, some elderly, and others vowed to
celibacy as a result of their monastic or priestly vows.
But now we
are offered a young man as a model, whose life though brief
(April 23rd 1813 to September 8th 1853)
was nonetheless exceptionally blessed. This young man elevated
family, conjugal and fatherly love to a great height. His many
and varied commitments, all sustained with the same spiritual
vigour, were dedicated to faith and charity, to the Church, to
the poor, to science and to democratic spirit. Last but not
least, he was a man of flesh, blood and spirit just like us, who
incarnated a type of Christian with whom we can identify. He
also incarnated an ideal which was nourished by the Gospel and
provided answers both to the questionings of his contemporaries
and to the concerns of our generation.
We can
never forget that the 19th century, in which Ozanam
lived and worked, was the preparation for our 20th
century which has now ended. In a similar fashion to the last
century, this century is moved by new ideas and technological,
economic, social and spiritual change.
Yet one
can say quite truly that Ozanam’s life was unique. To
insensitive eyes and heart his existence can seem to resemble
many others. In fact, it has a more and more powerful influence
over our world, this modern world which is so eager for light.
When we call upon the Blessed Ozanam for help, it should not be
first and foremost to obtain some favour, but above all to ask
that our lives as men and women, especially the youth of the
world, be invigorated by his example and his witness.
A man rooted in his time

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Frederic
Ozanam's crucifix always present on his
office |
A Man like us
Frederic
Ozanam has sometimes been pictured as a holy man who was quite
remote from the world – so given to God, to piety, to holy
works, that he could seem unfamiliar with ordinary human
passion. This image of him must be discarded once and for all.
For when we become acquainted with Frederic’s writings and with
his marvellous and numerous correspondence, and when we read the
witnesses of his daily life, we discover a fascinating soul, a
generous heart which was never satisfied and always on the
alert, beating at the same rhythm as that of his next of kin,
his friends and his brothers and sisters in adversity.
A
man of flesh and blood
Frederic was not different
from other human beings.
He led a fully human life
which was transformed, even made sublime, by a holiness which he
acquired progressively, it never gave way to a puritan outlook.
Just like
all of us, Frederic was confronted as the days went by with
ordinary daily life, much of which was grey and flat.
Like
everyone of us, Frederic was concerned about his health, the
condition of his family, his standard of living, his future, his
success, his promotion in the university, winning such and such
a prize or decoration, or quite simply, that life was slipping
by and not allowing him to pursue his scientific work as far as
he would have wished.
One should add that like a
true Frenchman, Frederic did not turn down a good meal or a good
wine.
A religious Sensibility
Man does
not live on bread alone; above all, he needs spiritual food.
Frederic was provided with this thanks to his parents and
teachers. However, during his adolescence, like many young
people, he was assailed with doubts about the truths of faith
and the Christian meaning of life. It was sometimes hard to
imagine a possible harmony between Divine Revelation and the
modern world that was already turning away from God and thirsty
for technical progress.
While he,
too, lived through this “night of faith”, Frederic remained
deeply attached to the creed of his childhood. He forced himself
to persevere in his religious duties, to pray and receive the
sacraments. The habit of examining his conscience enabled him to
track down what he considered to be the four main obstacles that
hindered the progress of grace within him: pride, impatience,
weakness and meticulousness.
A
Lucid Mind
Frederic was lucid about himself and his
faults. This moved him, on the one hand, to ask forgiveness of
those who were wounded by his changes in mood; on the other, to
maintain an attitude of humility which was only to be
intensified over the years with the failing of his health and
the trials towards the end of his life. This created in him a
genuine spiritual poverty, even to the point of his achieving
surrender to the divine will.
In 1848,
he wrote to his friend Foisset: “My youth is fading away and
I cannot see myself becoming any better for it. In three months
I will be 35 years old. Even supposing that I follow what
remains of the path faithfully to the bitter end, I am afraid of
finding myself empty-handed.”
To Dufieux
in 1850 he wrote: “I have known myself for a long time and if
God has been kind enough to grant me a little fervour in my
work, I have never taken this grace to be the dazzling gift of
genius. No doubt I have wished to devote my life to the service
of faith, but considering myself only as a useless servant, as a
worker of the eleventh hour…”
If
Frederic defended his ideas with spirit, he was nonetheless,
deeply respectful of the stand taken by those who did not share
them: “Let us learn to stand up for our convictions without
hating our adversaries, and to love those who think differently
from us.”
On the
other hand, he had difficulty enduring the obstinacy of
intolerant people: “the bigwigs of orthodoxy who see their
political opinions as the 13th article of the Symbole.”
We find him rebelling against certain articles in “The
Universe”, the extremely right-wing newspaper of Louis Veuillot,
who was the leader of the obstinate Catholics who opposed the
liberal Catholics.
To his
friend Alexandre Dufieux, who seemed shaken by Veuillot’s
arguments, Ozanam sent a letter: “Would I, dear friend, be
worn out with exhaustion at 37 years of age, then, and
handicapped by premature and cruel infirmities, if I had not
been sustained by the desire and hope of serving Christianity?
Certainly I am nothing but a poor sinner before God, but he has
not yet permitted that I cease believing or that I deny, conceal
or tone down a single article of our faith.”
Frederic
Ozanam was a man of the Gospel Beatitudes: poor in spirit,
gentle, pure in heart, and persecuted for the sake of justice,
for having been the leader of the “party of love”,
founded by Christ.
Amelia Ozanam and his daughter Maria Ozanam
A Family Man
Antoine Frederic Ozanam was born on April 23rd
1813, in Milan, Italy.
The Ozanams were originally
from Dombes, the south-western part of the province of Ain, to
the north-west of Lyon in France. Frederic’s father, Jean
Antoine François Ozanam was born in 1773, in Chalomont in Dombes.
Son of a royal notary, who
under Louis XV had become a royal judge, Jean Antoine had under
his jurisdiction Chântillon-sur-Chalaronne, the village where
Saint Vincent de Paul, parish priest there in 1617, had founded
the first “brotherhood of Charity”.
The French
Revolution took place and disrupted everything, particularly the
life of the citizens of Lyon. Jean Antoine Ozanam was a law
clerk at the age of 20 when he was affected by the military
draft of all young single people. He became one of the “Soldiers
of Year II” who would be exalted by Victor Hugo.
With
the 1st Hussars, he was sub-lieutenant in 1796 and
took part in the Italian campaign led by Bonaparte. Demobilized
in 1799, Jean Antoine settled in Lyon where on April 22nd
1800 he married Marie Nantas, the 19 year old daughter of a Lyon
silk merchant. Marie Nantas was to be a devoted companion to her
husband and an exemplary mother to her children.
Jean Ozanam settled with his
wife in Lyon and was initiated into the silk trade by his
father-in-law. However, the day after the birth of their first
child, Elisabeth (February, 1801), the Ozanams were faced with
financial difficulties that were to last for several years. Jean
Antoine was often without work. He moved to Paris at the end of
1801 and embarked upon business dealings which were always
unsuccessful and which often took him abroad.
In 1807,
he left the capital and settled his wife and children in Lyon.
He then went off to travel all over Italy as a salesperson. In
1809 he called his family to Milan where they settled. On
December 27th 1810, after a year of strenuous work,
he qualified as candidate for Doctor of Medicine. He was to
become “the good Doctor Ozanam”.
But, due
to Napoleon’s misfortunes, they were obliged to leave Milan on
October 31st 1816. They sailed to Marseille and
settled again in Lyon, on rue Pizay, close to the Town Hall.
Doctor Ozanam became a doctor at the Hotel-Dieu Hospital in
1817.
Frederic
worshipped his father’s memory. If Doctor Ozanam was a man of
science whose research and work stood in the forefront of a
medical science still somewhat archaic, he was first and
foremost a model family doctor who was untiring, human and
compassionate. He considered medicine to be a vocation, and he
would often tell his children that to carry out this mission
fittingly one had to be prepared to give one’s life for one’s
patients. During the bloody 1831 riots and the deadly cholera
epidemic of 1832, they would witness the truth of such a remark
in their father’s dedication.
A
Filial Affection
Frederic retained a
powerful memory of his mother. Her deeply Christian faith, that
has been tempered by so many trials, helped her share with her
husband a life of unremitting work that was invigorated by daily
prayer and the practice of the Gospel virtues. The religious
life of the Ozanam family blossomed in the setting of the Lyon
parish of Saint Peter and Saint Saturnine. It was on his
mother’s lap that Frederic, like the other children, learned of
the grandeur and gentleness of God and gained a taste for prayer
and the practical virtues. At night, the whole household would
gather around Jean Antoine and Marie for evening prayer, which
was followed by a devotional reading.
And what a
warm home! A certain austerity was tempered by limitless
affection as well humour and cheerfulness.
Besides his mother, Frederic
benefited from the warmth of two other female presences: one was
his older sister, Elisa (Elisabeth) – twelve years older than he
was, of whom he wrote: “I had a sister, a beloved sister who
educated me along with my mother and my childhood lessons in
which I found real pleasure”. The other was the faithful
family housekeeper, Marie Cruziat, nicknamed “Guigui”.
She was already 45 years old when Frederic was born and died
only in 1857, aged 89, having serving in the household of three
generations of Ozanams for 72 years.
Steadfast in Times of Trial
Yet this happiness was not
the whole story: there was another side to the Ozanam family.
The repeated bereavements must have taken their toll. Of the
fourteen children born to Jean and Marie, eleven died; ten of
these were girls and almost of them died very young or were
stillborn. Only the eldest survived. She was the guardian angel
of the little ones, a friend and companion to her mother, and
the apple of her father’s eye. Being a good musician himself, he
had Elisa take music lessons as well as classes in drawing and
English. And then on November 29th 1820, Elisa, a
gentle young girl, was carried off by death at the age of 19.
The fact
of having seen his father and mother weep so much over the loss
of their children must have intensified Frederic’s natural
sensitivity and made him even more attentive to the lives and to
the pain of his fellow human beings. Coming from a family whose
means were often slender, Frederic learned that material poverty
is not only the hallmark of those who are called “poor” but also
that it is often present around those who are called “middle
class”.
“ I feel
like giving thanks to God for having being born in a social
position which was on the borderline between financial
difficulty and being comfortably off. Such a position accustoms
one to hardship without leaving one totally ignorant of
enjoyment. In that position one cannot go to sleep at night
satisfied in one’s desires but one is not preoccupied either by
the constant call of need”.
(Letter to
François Lallier, November 5th 1836).
He also
owed to his mother’s example the concern that he showed
throughout his life towards the men and women of the working
classes. Despite the fact that she was overwhelmed with domestic
work, she still found the time to dedicate herself to the Saint
Pierre section of the Society of “Nightwatchers”, made up of
volunteer working women who took turns to spend the night with
women who were sick or in distress.
After the
death of their three month-old Louis-Benoît, in 1822, and the
birth in 1824 of their last child, Charles, the Ozanam family
found itself reduced to three children: Alphonse (1804-1888) who
was to be a priest and receive the title of Monsignor, Charles
(1824-1890) who was to be a doctor like his father and Frederic,
born in 1813.
The return
to the Lord of all their little sisters, then of their father
(1837), and mother (1839) naturally intensified the bonds that
united the three Ozanam brothers.
After his marriage to Amélie
Soulacroix, in the church of Saint-Nizier, in Lyon, on June 23rd
1841, Frederic showed the same filial devotion towards his
father and mother-in-law: a respect mingled with deep affection.
A Man of Two Cities: Lyon
and Paris
One day
Frederic Ozanam declared: “It has been said that Paris is the
head of the kingdom and that Lyon is its heart”. What was
true for France was equally true in Frederic’s life. If
professional obligations divided his life between the capital
and the seat of the Primate of the Gauls, Frederic’s thoughts
were frequently most often in Paris, which could not be ignored
as the indisputable cultural centre, whereas his heart remained
in Lyon.
Lyon:
Spiritual Centre, Seat of Rebellion
There is plentiful evidence of Frederic’s
attachment to Lyon, the city where he spent his childhood,
adolescence and some of the best years of his youth and where he
got married. As he wrote in 1832, “childhood habits, family
affections and the bonds of friendship” linked him to this
city. Mentions of these abound in his correspondence, for
example, in a letter addressed to Dominique Meynis from Paris in
1843: “ You know that I have remained very attached to Lyon
in the depths of my heart… Since I have been called to my
perilous duties in Paris, every year I have gone to place them
under the patronage of Our Lady of Fourviére, to whom I was
dedicated from early childhood.”
He also wrote, again from
Paris, to his brother Charles, in 1850: “I am writing these
few words so that you never pass through Lyon without finding a
reminder of me, and so that you do not feel alone in a city
where everything is shared by us, and where you must think even
more vividly of all those whom we miss.” (Frederic’s father
and mother lie and rest in the Lyon cemetery).
When the Ozanam family
settled in Lyon in 1816, the city consisted of only 140,000
inhabitants. In 1846 there were 180,000, the growth in
population being noticeable in la Guillotiére and on the Hill of
the Croix-Rousse. Here, taking advantage of the sale of former
monastic land, the silk workers set up new workshops with
ceilings high enough to contain the Jacquart looms whose
technical efficiency ensured Lyon’s supremacy in the silk trade.
In 1831, at the time when the silk workers rebelled against the
terms of the salary imposed on them by the manufacturers,
foremen in the silk workshops numbered 8,000.
Frederic was in love with
this city situated at the confluence of the Rhone and Saone,
with its high narrow streets, its embankments, its hills, its
“slopes”, its panoramas, its cheerful surroundings, its noise –
the clatter of the looms, the stamping of the horses pulling the
countless heavy cargoes of silk bundles, and its active and
industrious population.
Lyon was above all a
spiritual centre whose vitality was to play a large part in
making Frederic Ozanam one of the pioneers of the Catholic
Renewal in France. In 1905 a journalist rightly pointed out that
“the city of Lyon has always been one of the centres where the
spiritual life and Christian thought exist in all their
intensity and this is likely to become more and more true. The
soul of the natives of Lyon is deeply religious and accompanied
by a remarkably practical and cool spirit and a bold and
enterprising character.”
Lyon was the cradle of the
first Christian community and of the first Episcopal Church of
the Gauls (2nd century), from which comes the title
of “Primate of the Gauls” given to its Archbishop. It was again
a fervent religious centre from the 11th to the 14th
centuries; throughout the 19th and 20th
centuries, Lyon enjoyed an intense spiritual vitality (“Lyon
School”, the “Social Chronicle” the spiritual Resistance during
the Second World War).
Soon after a revolution which
had dismantled it, the Church in Lyon found its footing again,
thanks in particular to Cardinal Joseph Fesch, Napoleon’s uncle.
The Church’s works of mercy and institutions grew in number. The
most influential and universal of these was the Propagation of
the Faith, founded in 1820 by Pauline Jaricot, the daughter of a
Lyon clothing merchant. She became the symbol and foundation
stone of the rebirth of the French Catholic missions. Frederic,
who was one of the driving forces behind this movement, always
considered it as typically part of his home city. In 1845, when
he was the Paris correspondent for the Lyon Council of the
Propagation, he wrote: “Just as neither Saint Ireneus nor Our
Lady of Fourvière can be taken from us, we cannot be robbed of
the Propagation of the Faith either.
The poor, in Lyon more than
anywhere else, cried out for the attention and dedication of
Catholics. During the great floods of 1840, the new Archbishop,
Monsignor Maurice de Bonald, estimated the number of the poor in
Lyon at 20,000. The mortality rate there was higher than in the
rest of France, rising as high as 30 in every 1000 in 1834, due
to a year of destitution, strikes, unrest and typhoid and
smallpox epidemics. During the winter of 1829 -1830, the intense
cold had lasted from early October to late February, and the
mortality rate had doubled. And one must not forget the bloody
rebellions of the silk workers in November 1831 and April 1834,
which caused hundreds of deaths.
It is not surprising then
that, very early on, Frederic tried to develop the Society of
Saint Vincent de Paul in Lyon, where he lived from 1836 to 1841.
This picture of a fervent
Lyon must not eclipse the existence during the same period of
powerful anti-clerical movements in this city of silk
manufacturers and silk workers: in 1820, ten Masonic lodges were
rebuilt. As always, Frederic was very sensitive to the very
noticeable alliance between middle class egoism and lack of
belief. On January 15th 1831, he expressed the
aversion he felt for the new class in power: “They live an
industrialized and materialistic life, each is concerned with
his own personal comfort and well being… Material order, a
modicum of freedom, bread and money, that’s all they are
interested in.”
This atmosphere of unbelief
succeeded in sowing the seeds of doubts in the heart of the
adolescent. In October 1822, he went to the Royal College of
Lyon and studied Classics with brilliant results. In 1827, his
studies in Rhetoric caused him to question his faith. However,
it was at the same college, thanks to his philosophy teacher,
Father Joseph Mathias Noirot, that he gained both peace of mind
and spiritual enlightenment.
In 1829, with a Bachelor in
Arts, he decided to “devote his life to the service of the
truth”. He even envisaged a “demonstration of the
Catholic religion from historical, religious and moral beliefs
in Antiquity.”
Frederic’s dream was nurtured
by his reading of Chateaubriand, Lamartine and Lamennais,
renowned apologists of Christianity captivating so many young
people of that period, and whose style and argumentation were to
influence Ozanam. He also rediscovered peace of mind and his
enthusiasm as a young Christian in the company of two great
thinkers who were natives of Lyon but whom he met in Paris:
Andre Marie Ampère (1775-1836), member of the Lyon Academy who
wrote a dissertation on the “Historical Proofs of the Divine
Nature of Christianity”, and Pierre Simon Ballanche (1776-1847),
a writer who in 1801, had his work “Of Sentiment” printed on his
father’s press, a work which prefigured “The Genius of
Christianity”; Ballanche was the one who communicated to the
young Frederic the hope which he invested, as a citizen and
Christian, in the spirit of liberty and solidarity.
In October 1830, Frederic,
who was drawn to the study of the Arts and History, but whose
father wanted him to study Law, began working as a clerk for
Jean Baptiste Coulet, an attorney to the Lyon Magistrates’
Court. One year later, on November 1st 1831, Frederic
bought a ticket on the coach of the Royal Mail Service that was
to take him on a four-day journey to Paris where he was going to
study Law.
Paris: Intellectual Capital;
Melting Pot of Poverty
On November 5th
1831, Frederic Ozanam discovered the capital. Right away the
capital disappointed him. The sight and even the visits of its
monuments did not impress him. He quickly became conscious that
beyond its beauties and its lights “Old Lutetia” flaunted its
“horrors, its shacks, its corruption” Ostentatious luxury
rubbed shoulders with appalling poverty, the same poverty that
Victor Hugo was to depict a few years later in “Les Miserables”.
The Paris de of Louis-Phillipe
in which Frederic settled was not yet the Paris which Baron
Haussmann (appointed Prefect of the Seine on June 28th
1853) was to transform into the “City of Light” where some
700,000 Parisians lived. Many lived in precarious conditions in
this metropolis that was ill-adapted to the demands of modern
life.
With the exception of the
aristocratic neighbourhoods, everywhere else there were
dilapidated tall tenements and overarching narrow streets. There
were grimy and cluttered, with no pavements or drains. They
reverberated with the cries of the tradesmen, and the noise
created by the uneven cobblestones and the bad repair of the
wheels and springs of carriages drawn by horses. It is
understandable that the dreadful spectacle of cholera, which
claimed million of victims in the capital in 1832, shattered
Frederic.
The majority of the
inhabitants had such meagre incomes that still in 1846, out of
the population of about a million inhabitants, more than 650,000
were exempt from taxation. Two out of three of these were unable
to pay for their death shrouds, the mortality rate was 30 out of
every 1000, was higher than the national average. 11,000 out of
the 27,000 annual deaths occurred in hospitals, which was a
considerable proportion when one recalls the fear that people
had for those places.
Prior to the 1848
revolutions, Paris contained 300,000 destitute people who were
numerous in the arrondissements and suburbs. The city was eaten
away by the raw wounds of irremediable moral depravity,
abandoned children, prostitution, cohabitation among the workers
and common people. It is necessary to take account of these
miseries and misfortunes in order to understand Frederic
Ozanam’s vocation for social charity
Quite naturally this city,
with its revolutionary tradition, and whose narrow streets were
suitable for making barricades, became the scene of social
eruptions. Frederic was a witness to the workers’ uprisings of
1832, 1833 and 1834, as well as to the enforcement of tough
police laws, after the attempt made by Fieschi on the life of
the King Louis-Phillippe in July 1835.
One can understand that in
this macabre city of Paris, Frederic Ozanam was at first
perplexed, discouraged and indeed frightened. This all the more
for the fact that his deeply sensitive nature bore his solitude
with difficulty, and especially the separation from those he
held most dear: “I am so used to family chatter..., and here
I am thrown, without any support, or any rallying point, into
this capital of egoism, into this whirlwind of passion and human
error.” ... “How I miss my parents. I am too young to be able
to get used to coming back to a deserted home and going to bed
without having anyone to tell what’s on my mind. Separated from
those I love I cannot put down roots in this foreign soil. In
myself I feel a childlike need to live in the family home, close
beside my father and mother, and this need withers in the air of
this capital.”
Happily, it was the Latin
Quarter in which Frederic lived, with its 5,000 students. Many
came from Lyon and in the heart of this colony of natives of
Lyon, with André Marie Ampère, who opened up his home to him,
Frederic found his joy of living again and was able to preserve
his Christian faith.
At the time Paris was
considered to be “one of the capitals of disbelief”: an
important number of the propertied and ruling upper and middle
class as well as the majority of academics were supporters of
Voltaire. This fostered an atmosphere that Frederic could only
escape by keeping the company of dedicated Christians like
Emmanuel Bailly and André-Marie Ampère, or by the company of
liberal Catholic intellectuals. Frederic admired their
combination of faith, eloquence, courage and freedom of mind and
expression. They were: Felicity de Lamennais, Henry Lacordaire,
Charles de Montalembert and Lamartine.
It was by listening to these
teachers that Frederic convinced himself “that somewhere the
words of a believers must be uttered, a religious education must
be given, at a level of competence and notoriety that would
thwart the teachers of the public who are broadcasting
rationalist doctrine.” (Marcel Vincent).
Yet Frederic was in Paris,
above all, to complete his studies. After obtaining his degrees
- Bachelor of Law (1834) of Arts (1835), Doctor in Law (1836)
and in Arts (1839) - he became an attorney of the Bar in Lyon in
1837. It was in the city of Lyon that in 1839 he became a
tenured Professor of Commercial Law. The following year, he
passed the aggregation exam of the Faculty of Arts and, although
recently appointed, specialized in teaching. On October 9th
1840, he was appointed deputy to Claude Fauriel as a professor
in Foreign Literature at the Sorbonne. After getting married,
the newlyweds settled in Paris. Frederic was given tenure at the
Sorbonne in 1844 and in 1845 they were graced with the charming
addition to their home of a little girl, Marie.
Frederic,
who had been feeling sour about life in the capital for a long
time, then acknowledged that Paris was really the city “in
which everything comes alive: one’s ideas, spiritual work,
conversation, even the most insignificant of the society
acquaintances”.
A Man who was all heart
Frederic
was all heart: throughout his entire life, his whole being came
alive when in contact with others, whether they were friends,
parents or students. In his letters, he expressed countless
times his need for others: “I number myself among those who
need to feel they are surrounded with love and support, and God
has never allowed me to lack in either of these.” And
again, when he was 18 years old, in a letter to Auguste Materne:
“Oh, my friend! May the law of love be our law, and then,
trampling all vainglory underfoot, our heart will no longer burn
for anything else but for God, for men and for true happiness.”
A network of Friendships
In Frederic’s life, love and
friendship were inseparable. It is rare, in the history of
Christianity and of the saints to find a sensibility like this.
It was constantly tuned into the joys and sorrows of those he
loved. No doubt this is a reflection of the Franciscan side of
him which was very evident throughout his existence.
His numerous friends seem to
have formed a warm and fraternal circle around this
ultra-sensitive being. A separation, however brief, for a
birth, a marriage, or a trial such as sickness or bereavement,
left Frederic emotionally overwhelmed by the event. He was
convinced that “God has made our soul in such a way that we
need two things: we need parents who cherish us, but we also
need friends who are attached to us. The affection that springs
from blood ties and that which comes from friendship are two
pleasures which are indispensable to us and which are mutually
irreplaceable”.
He wrote to Henry Pessonneaux:
“I have the agreeable habit of identifying myself with my
friends, of making them into my second family, surrounding
myself with them in order to fill the vacuums which misfortune
creates in my life”. And to Prosper Dugas, ten years later:
“I have never been able to do without my friends”.
Frederic’s oldest and longest
lasting friendships, and perhaps the more endearing because they
went back to his childhood, were those with his friends from
Lyon. At the top of the list were his two cousins Henry
Pessonneaux e Ernest Falconnet.
In Frederic’s heart, his
first playmates on the slopes of the Croix-Rousse, such as
Pierre Balloffet, held the same place as his college friends:
Joseph Arthaud, Prosper Dugas, Auguste Materne, Hippolyte
Fortoul (future minister of Napoleon III), Armand Chaurand,
Louis Janmot, Antoine Bouchacout. When he first settled in
Paris, he met several of these old friends again in the colony
of Lyon natives in the Latin Quarter, along with many new ones.
Frederic kept up a regular
and hearty correspondence with his friends from Lyon. In the
homes of Andre-Marie or Charles Montalembert, he also struck up
new friendships with other young men from the province. On March
19th 1833, he told Ernest Falconnet: “There are
about ten of us, united even more closely by the bonds of the
spirit and the heart. We form a sort of literary and chivalrous
band of devoted friends who have no secrets and open up their
souls to each other in turn, to share their joys, their hopes
and their sorrows”. He recalled in his letters the endless
evenings of discussion and exchange of views that took place in
the moonlight close to the Pantheon.
Family Love
Frederic manifested an
extraordinary affection for his father and his mother. Their
deaths distressed him, and he expressed this in very moving
terms. The day after his father’s death, in 1837, he confided to
Ernest Falconnet : “What solitude on earth from now on! What
emptiness all around us! It is like being lost in the crowd
without someone to look out for me, and without any hands
stretched out to protect one. I’ve lived 24 years under his
shadowed protection and now I suddenly find myself without the
shelter from the storm. The family oracle has become quiet, our
guardian angel has become invisible. Perhaps it is possible to
encounter greater affliction than this, but never such
comparable grief!”
The death of his mother, in
1839, further increased his suffering. He wrote to Edouard
Reverdy: “Oh my friend, we are orphans! What tears and
sobbing! Seemingly our age ought to render my elder brother
(Alphonse) and I more confident and courageous, but we lived our
family life so intensely, we were so comfortable under our
mother’s wing, that in spirit we had never really left the nest
where we were born...”
Frederic transferred his
affection to his parents-in-law, whom he called in his letters
“My good father, my beloved mother”. After having
hesitated for rather a long time to commit himself to marriage,
he took, as his wife Amélie Soulacroix, the daughter of the
rector of the Lyon Academy, on June 23rd 1841, in
Lyon,. This event and then the birth of their daughter Marie, on
July 25th 1845, matured and transformed the man.
Ozanam became less anxious and withdrawn and more open.
This transformation was such
that Frederic does not appear as an “ascetic” saint, but as a
Christian in whom conjugal love and fatherhood brought forth new
reserves of affection and care for others. When he spoke of his
wife and daughter, it was in terms which are very real to us.
Here he is, for example, describing the difficult birth of his
daughter, Marie: “My dear friend, one day you will experience
the same emotion after several hours of terrible pains you hear
the last cry of the mother and the first cry of the newborn
child, then suddenly you see a tiny creature appear, that
immortal creature of whom one becomes the guardian. At that
moment something terrible and yet supremely sweet occurs in the
depths of the soul, not in the metaphorical sense but in a real,
physical sense. One feels as if the hand of God is remodelling
one inwardly and shaping a new heart within...”
He called Amélie, whose heart
was so in tune with his own “my beloved”, “my dearly beloved”,
and “my beautiful and cherished soul”. When she was absent or he
himself was far from her, Frederic sent her letters with a
tenderness tinged with nostalgia. For example, in July 1844:
“My beloved, I awaited your dear letter this morning with eager
hope. You don’t say whether you slept well, and whether your
sickness was more serious than usual. How are your poor eyes?
Can you tell me in your next letter?
From time to time, he
expressed himself in poems. It was not by chance that this
romantic writer so enamoured of Italy took a keen interest in
the Franciscan poets of 13th century Italy. His
correspondence, which was never trite, was full of colourful and
accurate description of the towns and countries he visited and
the scenery and monuments that impressed him. There was always a
warm, personal note to these descriptions. His pen made the
mountains, the sea, Florence, Pisa, Rome, Burgos, Biarritz come
alive, and seemed to be one in harmony with the genius of man
and the grandeur of God.
A Christian Prophet
Frederic
Ozanam’s Charisma
According to the Bible, a
prophet is one inspired by God who speaks out with powerful,
disturbing words in times of difficulty, distress or upheaval.
These words are capable of giving hope, while, at the same time,
making people think.
A
clear consciousness of his vocation
In
this sense, one can readily consider that Frederic was a
Christian prophet. As he asserted in a letter to Ernest
Falconnet, in 1834: “Religious ideas can have no value
whatever if they are not practical and positive. Religion is
meant for acting more than thinking”. As a young man,
Frederic always felt that he had a specific mission which
impelled him to be more of an extrovert and get involved with
the world and those who lived in it. He felt an obligation to
make available to them the light and strength that God had
bestowed upon him despite his unworthiness. He was 18 years old
when he admitted to his friend Fortoul: “When my eyes look
upon society, the incredible variety of events arouse all sorts
of feelings within me… and these reflections fill me with a sort
of excitement. I tell myself that the spectacle that we are
watching is great, and that it is wonderful to witness such a
momentous era. How serious and important is the mission of a
young man in society today. I rejoice in the fact that I was
born in an epoch in which I will perhaps find many ways to do
good, and I feel a new enthusiasm for the task.”
To be
committed to this regeneration project of society, illegitimate
offspring of the “Lumières”, it is necessary for young
Christians to have an enthusiastic heart and a well-tempered
armour. Without presenting himself as a model, Frederic is aware
of being driven, by grace, to the point where he could never
doubt the force of his vocation. (Marcel Vincent).
A robust and radiant faith
Having rediscovered his own
faith, Frederic dreamed of a true renewal in Catholicism:
“which would be filled with youth and strength, rising up
suddenly over the world, to give this century a new lease of
life and lead it towards civilization and happiness”. After
the 1830 revolution and the accession of the Bourgeois King,
this dream seemed unfounded, even utopian. Yet in Frederic this
vision originated in a clarity of mind whose secret and strength
lay in a renewed Christian faith.
In this heart nothing could
block out the light. In a letter to Charles Hommais, in 1852, he
declared: “I am far more deeply convinced by the ‘interior
evidence’ of Christianity. By this I mean the daily experience
which in my middle age has allowed me to find the means of
sanctifying the joy of family life, and also all the consolation
I need in sorrow.”
It is in this same letter
that a famous phrase is to be found: “We have two lives – one
for seeking the truth and the other for putting it into
practice”. In a period of disbelief in which the institution
of the Church was scorned, Frederic’s solidly anchored faith
blossomed quite naturally at the heart of the Church – “my
Church” as he liked to call it. For him this Church could be
none other than the Holy Roman Catholic Church, in which he had
been baptized, brought up and educated. In his eyes, this Church
had the supreme advantage of having a Pontiff at its head whose
authority is a reflection of God.
If he was a liberal Catholic
– a Catholic who was convinced of the natural union between the
Gospel, the Church and Liberty – Frederic Ozanam was also an
ultramontane Roman Catholic. Like many others, he saw in Rome
the beating heart and the living centre of an authentic
Christianity. In 1846, a young liberal Pope, Pius IX, became
Supreme Pontiff; he was determined that the papacy be the
ultimate remedy for a humanity which was on the road to ruin.
Frederic’s
devotion to Pius IX, who received him several times in Rome, was
the measure of the hope he placed in the Catholic Church.
When he spoke of the Church,
it was with great fervour and enthusiasm. In 1847, he wrote to
his friend Jean-Jacques Ampère, “The Pope as I see him, is
just like the greatest of his predecessors, he is invested with
a profound faith in his title as Vicar of Jesus Christ and with
a profound sense of his unworthiness. He lets his position as a
worldly prince fade into the background, for perhaps it had been
exaggerated since Julian II and Leo X and helped to arouse so
much prejudice amongst us and elsewhere. And yet one sees in
him, more clearly than ever, the Bishop of Rome, that paternal
and selfless authority that nobody could have the heart to abhor
and to which it is very difficult not to surrender.”
A courageous Commitment
Frederic’s clear-sightedness,
nourished by faith, was equalled only by his courage. His
contemporaries did not expect to find such courage in a man
whose health was fragile and who was professionally secure. It
was courageous, on his part, in a Church which was then very
clerical, to consider that he had a specific mission as a lay
person. This courage led him to denounce the sloth of a clergy
that the 1801 Concordat had tended to render less sensitive to
the misfortunes of others in this world. He did not hesitate to
challenge the clergy through the person of his elder brother,
Father Alphonse: “You are not carrying out your true mission.
If a larger number of Christians and especially clergymen had
looked after the workers in the last ten years we would be more
certain of the future”; and again: “The priests must give
up their little bourgeois parishes: their flocks are an elite in
the midst of a vast population that they do not know...”
These courageous stands, intensified by
Frederic’s political option for Christian Social Democracy, made
many enemies for him both among the conservative Catholics and
among those who adhered to a Socialism considered remote from
the church. This did not prevent him from being seen as a guide,
a pioneer and even as a prophet by many people of his
generation. In his youth, he already acknowledged this, with his
customary humility, in a letter to Ernest Falconnet (1834):
“In some respects I am
surrounded by seductive temptations of all sorts. I am in
demand, people argue over me, I am pushed to the forefront...
because God and my education have endowed me with some tact, a
degree of broad-mindedness and tolerance in my outlook. They
want to make me into a sort of leader of Catholic youth in this
country. A fair number of worthy young people hold me in an
esteem of which I feel unworthy. However, can this combination
of outer circumstances possibly be a sign of the will of God?
Faith and Charity
The poor: The face of
Christ
In Frederic Ozanam’s eyes,
faith without charity had no meaning. That is why his advice
turned quickly into an entreaty when he spoke to his young
friends: “The earth has become a chilly place. It is up to us
Catholics to rekindle the flame of human warmth going out. It
is up to us to recommence the great work of regeneration even if
it means another era of martyrs....”
Can we remain passive in the
midst of a world suffering and groaning? And as for us, my dear
friend, are we going to make no attempt to be like those saints
whom we love?
If we don’t know how to love
God, it seems that we need to see Him in order to love and we
can only see God with the eyes of faith, and our faith is so
weak! But men, the poor, we see them with the eyes of flesh.
They are there before us and we can place our finger and hand in
their wounds and the marks of the Crown of Thorns are visible on
their foreheads. Thus there is no possible room for disbelief
and we should fall at their feet and say to them with the
apostle: “My Lord and my God, You are our Master and we will be
your servants. You are for us the sacred image of the God that
we cannot see. Since we know not how to love him otherwise, we
will love him in your people.”
These admirable words are the
echo of those of Saint Vincent de Paul, the saint whose
birthplace was in Pouy in the Landes area. This was the object
of Frederic’s last pilgrimage in 1852. This saint became the
model and protector of the Conference of Charity of which
Frederic Ozanam was the principal founder in 1833. It was to
blossom in the context of the Society of Saint Vincent de Paul.
Charity: The Daughter of
Faith
Frederic was always ready to
defend and glorify the Catholic Faith. This is why, with a group
of students who shared his faith with him, in 1833 he went to
see the Archbishop of Paris, Mgr. de Quélen, to suggest that the
archbishop organize, for the general public and the young in
particular, a series of powerful and convincing lectures in the
Cathedral of Notre Dame. After two years of negotiation, Father
Henry Lacordaire immediately made the “Conferences de Notre
Dame” famous with his matchless eloquence.
For his part, Emmanuel Bailly
gathered together in the Place Estrapade a literary circle or
“Conference of History” open to young people of all convictions.
Ozanam took part in it; he drew recognition because of his
qualities and because he did not hesitate to stand up against
opposing beliefs. He bore, with difficulty, the criticism that
the Conference of History was merely a talking shop exchanging
empty words that led nowhere. This inspired him to start the
“Conference of Charity” which would show unbelievers that the
Christian faith is naturally active, and also a means of
sanctification for its members.
The Society of Saint Vincent
de Paul
On April 23rd
1833, Frederic’s birthday, the first meeting took place at 18
rue du Petit-Bourbon Saint-Sulpice, in the office of the “La
Tribune Catholique” newspaper of which Emmanuel Bailly was the
chief editor. He had gathered around him six students aged
between 19 and 23: François Lallier, Frederic Ozanam, Jules
Devaux, Felix Clave, Auguste le Taillandier, Paul Lamanche.
This small group of young men
placed itself less than a year later under the patronage of
Saint Vincent de Paul whose spirit and example inspired them.
The Society of Saint Vincent de Paul had come into being.
Its first president was
Emmanuel Bailly, but its most symbolic figure was Frederic
Ozanam, owing to his influence and activity. He always refused,
however, to be considered as “the” founder of a society which,
according to him “it should neither be a political party, nor
a school, nor a brotherhood… but profoundly Catholic at the same
time as being secular.”
It was then that the
providential meeting took place between the pioneers of the
Conference of Charity and the famous Daughter of Charity of
Saint Vincent de Paul, Sister Rosalie Rendu, “mother of an
entire people” of the destitute neighbourhood of the rue
Mouffetard, Saint Marceau suburb, next to the Church
Saint-Etienne du Mont, where the first Conference was founded.
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Sister Rosalie Rendu
(1787 - 1856) |
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Emmanuel Bailly
(1797-1861) |
Sister Rosalie grasped the
vocation of these enthusiastic and generous young people. She
led them to the poor and taught them how to serve them with love
and respect in the most authentic tradition of Saint Vincent de
Paul.
Always concerned not to make
his presence felt, Frederic became a member of the General
Council of the Society and in 1844, with Cornudet,
Vice-President General. However, he was never to become General
President, except temporarily after the uprisings of June 1848,
during which the President Adolphe Baudon was wounded.
He took advantage of this
temporary term to evoke the requirements of charity: discretion,
tact, respect for a person’s dignity, the avoidance of all
misplaced proselytising.
“Let us only introduce
religion into our conversation when it comes up naturally…”
“It is to be feared that an
overzealous desire to convert people merely produces
hypocrites”.
In Frederic Ozanam’s
eyes, visiting the poor in their homes, an indispensable task of
the members, should be carried out in a spirit of humility.
From 1836 to the end of 1837,
Frederic led the only Conference in Lyon, which decided to
divide into two Conferences that same year. A special council
was thereby formed and placed under his presidency, until 1839,
when Joseph Arthaud replaced him.
Tirelessly devoted to his
cause, Frederic, in addition to visiting the poor, also included
in his activities assisting people of different nationalities
who passed through the town, giving religious instruction to
children and evangelising the military. This did not prevent him
from following very closely the general running of the Society,
sending progress reports destined for the General Assemblies,
suggesting that an Annual Report be drafted in Paris by the
General Secretary, and giving judicious advice such as the
following: “Don’t make yourself visible, but let others see
you”, for he loathed ostentation, he detested secrecy.
Back in Paris, after his
wedding in 1841, Frederic continued to give generously of his
time to the Society, sharing with his wife Amélie his ardent
love for the destitute. When he went abroad or travelled to the
provinces for health or professional reasons, he made a point of
going to the meetings of the local Conferences.
Almost
every year, with the affection characteristic of him, he evoked
the “humble beginnings” of the Conference of Charity grouped
around Bailly. He marvelled at how a mere shrub had become a
tall tree.
Ozanam wrote in 1841: “The
first Conference was formed in Paris eight years ago. There were
seven of us, today there are more than 2,000 young people...”.
And in 1845: “This Society, founded 12 years ago by eight
humble young people now consists of 10,000 members in 133 towns;
it has started in England, Scotland, Ireland, Belgium, Italy…”
In Frederic’s short but
intense life, the Society of Saint Vincent de Paul occupied a
place of honour. He always spoke of it with love. When in
1847,as Vice-President, he announced the resignation of the
President Jules Gossin, and suggested that the presidents of the
various Conferences elect Adolphe Baudon, his description of the
Society was laden with emotion: “It is a Catholic but secular
Society, humble but plentiful, poor but charged with consolation
of the poor, above all in an era when charitable organizations
have such a great mission to fulfil in the awakening of faith,
the support of the Church and the appeasement of the hatreds
which divide mankind.”
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L'église de San-Étienne du Mont dans où
la première conférence a été formée |
Intérieur de l'église de San-Étienne du
Mont
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Interior de la
Iglesia de San-Étienne du Mont |
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<<
To go to beginning |
Faith and Science
A Thirst for culture
Frederic Ozanam was a
scholar in the full sense of the Word. His thirst for knowledge
was however inseparable from his wish that it serve Christian
Truth, and still better, that it demonstrates the natural union
between Faith and Science.
Frederic followed courses in
chemistry and botany at the Jardin des Plantes. He learned
Sanskrit in order to decipher the sacred texts of the Hindus. He
devoured, along with the Christian apologist, works of Bonald,
Maistre, Ballanche, Görres or Baader, other works of a more
materialistic nature, although he disdained fashionable novels
and melodramas. All this was in view of realizing the dream of
his adolescence: “demonstrating the truth of Catholic
religion through the antiquity of historic, religious and moral
beliefs.”
At the age of 20, in the
context of the “Conference of History”, which was the prelude to
the “Conference of Charity”, he was already admired for his
ability to handle subjects as difficult as mythology in general,
religion of Confucius and LaoTseu, the religious philosophy of
India and Buddha’s reform.
One can go back even further
to 1830, when at the age of 17, he explained the beginnings of
his work in the “Abeille française”, founded in Lyon by Legeay
and Father Noirot. There he published in 5 parts a study on
“The Truth of Christian Religion” which he demonstrated by
harmony of all beliefs. The same year he wrote poems about Joan
of Arc (under the pseudonym of Manazo, an anagram of Ozanam),
and a poem in Latin verse on the capture of Jerusalem by Titus.
In 1831, he published various studies on language and thought,
the philosophy of language and its effect on society, and,
again, a remarkable article which appeared in the Lyon newspaper
“Le Précurseur”, entitled “Reflection on the Doctrine of
Saint – Simon”
In 1836, Frederic defended
his dissertations as Doctor in Law, one in Latin (De interdictis)
and the other in French (On Possessive Actions). After this, he
specialized more and more in Arts and History. At the age of 24,
he already was recognized as one of the best experts on Dante
and the Divine Comedy. While teaching a course in Commercial Law
in Lyon, he wrote several articles in “L’Univers”, one of which
was “Protestantism and its Relationship with Liberty.”(1838)
In 1839, he defended two more
dissertations: one in Latin: “De frequenti apud veteres
poetas heroun ad inferos descensu”, and other in French
“Essay on the Philosophy of Dante”. In 1840, he defended in
Latin his dissertation for the aggregation of the Arts Faculty
on “The reason for the Arrested Development of Tragedy among the
Romans”, and in French on “The Historical Value of Bossuet’s
Funeral Orations”, he turned toward the study of foreign
literature. In a letter to Ampère, he confessed that he had a
perfect command of the Italian and German languages, read
English and Spanish reasonably well and knew a smattering of
Oriental languages. In fact, he was capable of reading the Bible
in Hebrew.
So, at the age of 27, he
founded himself substitute professor to Claude Fauriel – one of
the reformers of Literary History in France, in the Chair of
Foreign Literature at the Sorbonne.
On the death of his master
and friend in 1844, Frederic succeeded him and occupied the
Chair, which was quite in keeping with his deepest desires. He
wrote to Jean-Jacques Ampère, in 1840, that the “secret
undertaking” closest to his heart was the in-depth
comparative study of the Italian and German civilizations, with
the perspective of a comparative “noble study”: “Rome and the
Barbarians”, “The Priesthood and the Empire”, “Dante and the
Nibelungen”, “Tomás de Aquino and Albertt”, “Galileu and
Leibniz”.
This erudition was paralleled
by his exacting teaching methods. When he chose “Nibelungen”, as
the subject of his first lectures, he felt bound to do so from
Germany. From Mainz, he wrote on October 14th 1840,
that for him it was a matter of “literary conscience”. At
the end of his short life, when he was ill and the weather
conditions were deplorable, he went to Spain to complete his
research on Medieval Hispanic Culture. On his last trip to
Italy, from which he returned only to die, he was motivated by
extensive research into origins of the Italian Republics at the
Pisa Library. Like Fauriel, Frederic Ozanam was in search of a
universal truth. His interests were as wide-ranging as the
Oriental sources of Dante’s thought and the sources of Avicenne
and Averroes’ thought.
But in his mind this
certainty was ever-present: The Church had assimilated the
heritage of the Antiquity and Barbarian paganism. This universal
vision, combined with his great openness toward others, gained
him an international audience and vocation. It also enabled him
to remain closely linked with his Society of Saint Vincent de
Paul: whether he was in Paris, Geneva, London, or Livorno, he
visited the Conferences there, and his warm presence gave them
extra courage.
Like all the professors and
scholars who are worthy of their scientific vocation, Frederic
dreamed of an immense work in which he would invest the best of
himself. In his own words, it was to be “something very
great”: a demonstration of “how Christianity had
civilized the Barbarians with its teaching and communicated to
them the heritage of Antiquity, thus creating through religious
and political life the art, philosophy and literature of the
Middle Ages.”
The book was called “A
History of Christian Civilization among the Germanic peoples”
(before and under Roman domination) and “The establishment of
Christianity in Germany”, and the second volume containing
“The State” or “The Building of the Empire from
Charlemagne to Hohenstaufen” and “The Arts”, with the
formation of the monastic schools and the flowering of
ecclesiastical literature.
This first volume was almost
completed in the Summer of 1846,when he fell ill and left for
Italy in search of documents on the culture of the Italian
peninsula between the 7th and 10th
centuries. On his return, thanks to the devoted attention of
Ampère, this first volume appeared in 1847. The second volume,
started in 1848, was drafted amidst all the political commotion
and at the expense of a superhuman effort. Under the common
title of “Germanic Studies”, the two volumes were published in
Paris in 1849 and were awarded the Grand Prix Gobert of the
Academie des Inscriptions et Belles Lettres.
Frederic did not stop there.
He dreamed of a “ a vast fresco, which would embrace the
history of civilization from the Barbarian period to Dante.”
The first milestone was the publication in 1850 of
“Unpublished Documents for Use in the Literary History of Italy
from the 8th to the 13th centuries.”
His articles were gathered into one volume called
“Franciscan Poets in Italy in the 13th century” and his
lectures on “Civilization in the 5th century” were
published in two volumes after his death.
The Teaching Profession Seen
as a Priesthood
During all this time, Ozanam
also carried out the humble tasks of any teacher: the grading of
exams papers, the long preparation of lectures, the fatigue of
public speaking. However, he was rewarded by the respect given
to him by the large number of students in his classes who were
so sensitive to his scholarship, his conscientiousness, his
charity, and also his eloquence. He acquired this eloquence only
after mastering his shyness; his work as an attorney had almost
certainly helped. However, his eloquence issued forth from the
profound enthusiasm of a man who was communicating his science
and his faith.
One story illustrates this:
in 1852, on the day after Louis Napoleon’s coup d’etat, the
Sorbonne was on the brink of a riot. The rumour went about that
the professors refused to continue lecturing. Although he was
seriously ill, Frederic Ozanam went to the faculty, and in front
of the dumbfounded students, he delivered this admirable speech:
“Sirs, people blame our century for being too egoistical, and
it is said that the teachers have also been contaminated by the
general epidemic. Yet it is here that we ruin our health. It is
here that we use up all our strength. I am not complaining.
Our lives, my life, belong to
you, we owe you our lives until the last gasp and you will get
them. For my part, Sirs, if I die, it will be serving you”.
He maintained a similar
attitude with his colleagues at the Sorbonne: an attitude of
esteem and respect. While witnessing to his Christian faith, he
accepted that certain colleagues did not share his views or were
even non-believers. On this subject he wrote: “Those who
doubt are great in number. We owe a compassion which does not
exclude esteem.”
Faith and Democracy
After the 1830 Revolution,
Frederic Ozanam declared himself a liberal Catholic, that is to
say, a believer, who while remaining a loving and obedient son
of the Church, considered that the principles of 1789 Revolution
(Liberty, Equality, Fraternity) were a modern version of the
spirit of the Gospel. His mentor was Felicite de Lamennais, a
Breton priest with prophetic intuition, but when he left the
Church, Frederic left him.
The Alliance between
Catholicism and Liberty
In Lyon, where Lamennais had
many partisans, the young Frederic read “L’Avenir”, eagerly
supporting enthusiastically the political and prophetical
theories of its editors: Lamennais, Montalembert, Lacordaire,
Gerbet.
There was a great moment of
happiness when in “L’Avenir” of August 24th 1831,
Frederic found a very laudatory review written by Lamennais of
Frederic’s own essay “Exposition of the Doctrine of Saint
Simon”. The master applauded the young writer from Lyon as
someone who “from the outset” had situated himself in “the 19th
century intellectual scene” and “had blended the accents of a
noble soul, full of life and rich in hope” into a philosophical
discussion.
In January 1832, Frederic
Ozanam attended the lectures of father Gerbet, on the Philosophy
of History. These strengthened his sense of the Church,
sustaining it and clarifying it with an expanded vision of a
world which the Church, in turn, must sanctify through its
action.
On February 10th of the same
year, he expressed his enthusiasm to Ernest Facolnnet: “
Lamennais’ system is the immortal alliance of faith and science,
of charity and industry of power and liberty. Applied to
history, throws new light on it, it uncovers in it the destiny
of the future.”
The Hope of Regeneration
Through Democracy
During the July Monarchy
(1830 – 48) – a regime whose egotistical conservatism he
deplored – Frederic did not abandon the dream and vision that he
had chosen in 1830. His correspondence was full of powerful
remarks like the following, dated July 21st 1834:
“I think that in the face of power, the sacred principle of
liberty is also necessary. I think that one must utter a warming
with a severe and courageous voice to the power that exploits
instead of sacrificing itself. Words are made to be a barrier
that is used to resist force; they are the grains of sand on
which waves of the sea are broken.”
Frederic Ozanam was fully
aware that such attitudes gave rise to estrangement and
displeasure. It should be specified that at that time the
Archbishop of Paris was Archbishop Quelen, a prelate who was
extremely attached to the old regime, whereas Monsignor Affre,
who succeeded him, was in complete harmony with Ozanam’s ideas.
Frederic was struck by the
lack of vitality, if not indifference of so many believers who
did not seem to sense the fundamental upheaval brewing in
society. As New Year 1848 approached, which Frederic sensed was
to be of capital importance, he returned from Rome filled with
admiration for all that he had seen. He wanted all French
Catholics to turn Pius IX who, according to him was not only the
liberator of Italy, but also the Pope who was going to seal the
new alliance between religion and liberty, Christianity and
Democracy, in the likeness of the agreement concluded in the
past between the Church and the Barbarians.
Let us devote out time to the
Barbarians
It was in this perspective
that Frederic entered into politics by writing an article in “Le
Correspondant” on February 10th 1848, an article in
which he demonstrated the possible analogy between the
conversion of the Barbarians to Christianity between the 6th
and the 9th centuries and the conversion that led
Rome to turn toward the masses in 1848. He wrote: “They are
precious to the Church because of their number, the infinite
number of souls to be won over and saved, and also because of
the poverty that God loves and because of their work in which
their strength lies”. He concluded with this cry: “Let us
devote our time to the Barbarians!”
This phrase caught on. But it
also frightened people, because in the eyes of many Christians,
the working classes were also the dangerous classes. Moreover,
people did not hesitate to say it to Frederic Ozanam, who
explained himself in a letter to his friend Teophile Foisset: “By
saying: let us devote our time to the Barbarians, I am asking
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