_Rome, May 14, 1870._—The sitting of May 4 requires a more particular
mention which shall be added here. The reporter on the scheme of the
Catechism was Zwerger, Bishop of Seckau, who is a special favourite of the
_Curia_,—forming as he does with the Tyrolese Rudigier and Fessler the
little party of Austrian infallibilists,—a youthful and elegant prelate,
whose Latin is seasoned with such terms as _portraitus_, _præcautionibus_,
etc. He gave the consoling assurance that the new Catechism should be
compiled by a Commission of Bishops named by the Pope, so that it might be
“omnibus numeris absolutus.” He added that unfortunately he could not
introduce this masterpiece into his own diocese, but he would in principle
vote for it.
The question of the Catechism is of course closely connected with that of
infallibilism. For first the Catechism will quickly and strongly inoculate
the rising generation with the dogma, and secondly, as being a papal
text-book, it will familiarize all the young from an early age with the
notion, that in religion everything emanates from the Pope, depends on him
and refers to him. Thus every one will be taught that not only all rights,
as Boniface VIII. said, but all religious and moral truths, are drawn
forth by the Pope from the recesses of his own breast.
The notion is excellent, and does infinite honour to the Jesuits who
invented it. It is like the egg of Columbus. One cannot think at first how
it did not occur centuries ago to the astute members of the _Curia_. But
to begin with, it would have been impossible earlier to fit this
catechetical strait-waistcoat on such a Church as was the French; and then
again a sufficient motive was wanting, for it is four centuries since any
Pope thought of introducing new dogmas into the Church. The whole history
of the Church offers but three examples of it. The first was the attempt
of Gregory VII. and Innocent III. to alter the doctrine hitherto prevalent
on the relations of Church and State, and to substitute the new doctrine
of the Pope’s divine right to exercise temporal sovereignty over princes
and peoples. This did not succeed. The second instance was the attempt
made from the thirteenth century downwards by the _Curia_, and especially
by the Jesuits,—for which a long series of forgeries and fictions paved
the way,—to replace the primacy of the ancient Church by something totally
different, viz., an absolute monarchy, so as to destroy the power and
authority of the Episcopate, reduce the Bishops to mere delegates or
commissioners of the Pope, and erect him into the irresponsible master of
the whole Church and all its members, the sole source of all
ecclesiastical jurisdiction. This scheme too was wrecked on the
opposition, first of the great Councils, and afterwards of the French
Church. The third attempt, to make all Popes infallible and thus establish
the sole and universal monarchy of the Pope, is now going on. And as the
teaching of the Church has to be altered and enriched with new dogmas, the
Jesuits who inspire the Pope have quite rightly perceived that a Catechism
clothed with supreme authority, such as never previously existed, must be
introduced throughout the whole Catholic world. This undertaking promises
special advantages to the Jesuit Order, and so it has been brought before
the Council, and forced rapidly and unexpectedly to the vote. So little
had it been anticipated, that over 100 of the Bishops in Rome were absent.
Another attempt was made in this _Schema_ to get papal infallibility
accepted by a side-wind, by inserting a statement that the whole teaching
office of the Church resided in the primacy, to the exclusion of the
Bishops. It was felt at once that this would give the Pope a position and
authority incompatible with any other, even that of the Church herself,
and that the Bishops would entirely lose their judicial office in matters
of doctrine. Partly on account of this passage, and partly on general
grounds, 57 Bishops voted _Non placet_, among whom were Cardinals
Schwarzenberg and Rauscher, Archbishops Scherr and Deinlein, and Bishops
Dinkel and Hefele. It created a great sensation that Cardinal Mathieu,
Archbishop of Besançon, also voted against it. He has only lately returned
from his Easter visit to France, and is said now to belong decidedly to
the minority. Among the 24 Bishops who voted _juxta modum_, were the
Archbishops of Cologne and Salzburg, and the Bishop of Mayence. An
interval of two days was given them to put into shape the condition on
which they wanted to make their vote dependent. But we have already seen
that, when the time was come, the Legates preferred not calling for any
definitive vote.
Are we to infer from the collapse of so weighty and pregnant a question as
this of the Catechism that henceforth everything will be settled much
quicker? I cannot say. But as early as January 22 the Pope declared, in a
Brief addressed to M. de Ségur, that the delay in the proceedings of the
Council was due to the powers of Hell, for as it was to inflict on them
their inevitable death-blow, they wished to protract it as long as they
could. Pius is persuaded that, as soon as the Council produces its fruits,
all faults and vices will at once disappear from human society, and all
who are in error be led into the truth. That is expressly stated in the
Brief; and these are no mere phrases, such as the _Curia_ frequently
indulges in, but are uttered in sober earnest. Pius really holds his
infallibility to be the divinely ordained panacea for effecting a thorough
cure of mankind, who are now sick unto death. He is convinced that the
fount of unerring inspiration, which will henceforth flow incessantly from
the holy Father at Rome, will fructify all Christian lands like a
supernatural Nile stream, and overflow all human science for its
purification or its destruction. The Jesuits make the decrees, who are not
indeed themselves infallible, but whose compositions, directly the Pope
has signed his name to them, become inspired and free from every breath of
error.
The psychological enigma presented by Pius can only be solved by looking
steadily at the two root-ideas, which interpenetrate and supplement one
another in his mind. There is first his belief in the objective
infallibility of his 256 predecessors, and next his belief that he,
Mastai, has through continual invocation and worship of the Madonna
attained to an inspiration and divine illumination of which she is the
medium. This last privilege is in his eyes, as all about him know and
occasionally say, a purely personal one, which his predecessors did not
all experience. But it strengthens his faith in infallibilism, and—which
is the main point—he is certain by virtue of this infused illumination
that he is God’s chosen instrument for introducing the dogma. And this
higher certainty naturally leads him to regard the opposing Bishops as
unhappy men snared in the meshes of a fatal error, who rebel in their
sinful blindness against the counsel of God, and will be dragged at the
chariot-wheels of the triumphal car of the infallible Papacy in its
resistless progress, like boys hanging on behind, in spite of their
efforts to pull it back. And therefore sharp rebukes—_verbera
verborum_—must not be spared these episcopal opponents. Pius knows that
the German and American members of the party are infected by the
atmosphere of Protestantism, and the French by that of infidelity, so that
they are suffering at least under a violent heterodox influenza, and
require drastic remedies. But no one had imagined that all regard for
decency would be so completely laid aside, and that the Pope would so far
forget his high position as to actually descend into the arena, deal blows
with his own hand, and assail all disputants with bitter and insulting
words, as he has in fact done. He might have waited quietly till his
unconditional majority of 500 had voted the dogma, and then have
fulminated to his heart’s content the plenitude of anathemas and curses at
the still unbelieving “filii perditionis” and “iniquitatis alumni,” in the
forms that are stored up ready for use in the Roman Chancery. But he is
too impatient to wait for the decision, and exhausts all the weapons in
his quiver by anticipation. When the Bishops of the minority presented
their first remonstrance against the new dogma, he had it announced in his
journals that it was only from the lofty impartiality which became him
that he had not received their memorial, as neither had he received those
of the other party. But now this mask is dropped, and no means are omitted
for overreaching or intimidating the minority. It is confidently expected
that fear and discouragement will soon do their work in splitting up the
Opposition. Many of its members recoil in alarm from the position they
will be placed in by persevering to the last. It needs more than ordinary
episcopal courage, it needs a deep conscientiousness and faith firm as a
rock in the ultimate victory of the true doctrine of the ancient Church,
to confront in open fight the triple host of the _Curia_, the Jesuits and
the ultramontanes.
And now for the first time the excellence of the Council Hall is proved,
and the wise foresight of the _Curia_ in choosing it and adhering to it
with the firmness of old Romans in spite of all entreaties and
representations to the contrary. It is precisely adapted to the present
tactics of the majority. The Bishops will occupy a number of sittings with
speeches, generally read, seldom spoken, which four-fifths of their
auditors, as before, neither understand nor wish to understand. For the
majority know everything already, they are armed with a triple
breastplate, and have their short and powerful watchword, which renders
them invincible. Those who frequent infallibilist circles here may hear
St. Augustine’s saying quoted ten times a day, “Roma locuta est, causa
finita est,” or St. Ambrose’s “Ubi Petrus, ibi Ecclesia,” or that St.
Irenæus said every one must necessarily agree with the Roman Church. These
are mere fables; Augustine and Irenæus said nothing of the kind, but
something quite different; and while Ambrose did indeed use the words, it
was without the remotest reference to the Pope and his infallibility. But
the words are quoted in a hundred books and pamphlets, and are used like
theological revolvers which never miss fire. And then Mermillod will
repeat in the Council what he lately said in a sermon here about the
threefold manifestation of God in the crib of Bethlehem, in the Sacrament
of the Altar, and—in the Vatican. Pie of Poitiers will utter some of those
bold Oriental metaphors, which all France laughs at but which are gravely
received in the Council Hall. Manning will commend infallibility as the
one plank of safety for mankind who are sinking in the shipwreck of
scepticism, while he sings a pæan over the triumph of the dogma over
history. There will be room even for some flashes of genius from the
German infallibilists, the Tyrolese and the three Bavarians, if they can
resolve on opening their lips hitherto so firmly closed. And then the
African heat and sultry atmosphere, drying up the brain, which have
already begun to press on Rome like a leaden pall, will come in to
expedite the close. The majority will avail themselves of the right the
Pope has conferred on them to break off abruptly the discussion, in which
nothing has been discussed, and the Pope will appear in a Solemn Session,
in the full pomp of the earthly representative of Christ, to proclaim with
infallible certainty his own infallibility and that of all his
predecessors and successors, “approbante Concilio.” And thus will he enter
on his new empire of the world; for he will then for the first time be the
acknowledged master and sole teacher of mankind; before, he was only a
pretender. The Bishops will bow their heads reverently under a profound
sense of their own fallibility before the one divinely enlightened man,
and the world will go to sleep to wake next morning enriched and blessed
with the new and fundamental article of faith. The day of the promulgation
will be a great day of creation. “God said, Let there be light, and there
was light, and the evening and the morning were the first day” of the new
Church, after the old Church for 1869 years had been unable to ascertain
and formulize its chief article of faith. For the Popes were always
infallible; “the light appeared in the darkness, and the darkness
comprehended it not.” From the Pentecost of the blessed year 1870, as
Manning has prophesied, dates the age of the Holy Ghost, and the Church is
for the first time really complete. As the Pentecost of the year 33 was
the birthday of the ancient Church, so will the Pentecost of 1870 be the
birthday of the new and infinitely more enlightened Church. Nearly all
commentators now assume that the seven days of creation in Genesis are not
seven ordinary days, but signify a great period of the world’s history. It
cannot then be taken ill if the Church, instead of distinctly putting
forward her principal dogma on the first Pentecost, which would certainly
have been the most natural course, should have waited nineteen centuries
in the vain attempt to ascertain and formulate it, and have only now
hatched the egg in the year 1870.