sectaries of the nineteenth century. Those rites referred to vengeance
which was to be taken on the wolf that slew the lamb; the wolf
standing for tyrants and oppressors, and the lamb for Jesus Christ,
the sinless victim, by whom all the oppressed were represented. The
Carbonari themselves generally believed that they were heirs to an
organisation started in Germany before the eleventh century, under the
name of the Faith of the Kohlen-Brenners, of which Theobald de Brie,
who was afterwards canonised, was a member. Theobald was adopted as
patron saint of the modern society, and his fancied portrait figured
in all the lodges. That any weight should have been attached to these
pretensions to antiquity may appear strange to us, as it certainly did
not matter whether an association bent on the liberation of Italy had
or had not existed in German forests eight hundred years before; age
and mystery, however, have a great popular attraction, the first as an
object of reverence, the second as food for curiosity with the
profane, and a bond of union among the initiated. The religious
symbolism of the Carbonari, their oaths and ceremonies, and the axes,
blocks and other furniture of the initiatory chamber, were well
calculated to impress the poorer and more ignorant and excitable of
the brethren. The Vatican affected to believe that Carbonarism was an
offshoot of Freemasonry, but, in spite of sundry points of
resemblance, such as the engagements of mutual help assumed by
members, there seems to have been no real connection between the two.
Political Freemasonry remained somewhat of an exotic in Italy, and was
inclined to regard France as its centre. As far as can be ascertained,
it gave a general support to Napoleon, while Carbonarism rejected
every foreign yoke. The practical aims of the Carbonari may be summed
up in two words: freedom and independence. From the first they had the
penetration to grasp the fact that independence, even if obtained,
could not be preserved without freedom; but though their predilections