_Rome, June 24, 1870._—Rome is just now like an episcopal lazar-house, so
great is the number of the prelates who are sick and suffering and
confined to their bed or their chamber. And still greater is the number of
those who feel worn out and impatiently long to be gone. But there are
persons here who calculate thus—that the Italians, Spaniards and South
Americans are accustomed to the heat, and bear it very well, and as to the
Germans, French and North Americans—“vile damnum si interierint.”
Guidi’s speech still occupies men’s minds, and forms the topic of
conversation in conciliar circles. Men are astonished at the courage of a
Cardinal in daring so directly to contradict the Pope. While Pius has word
written to Paris that “for many centuries no one doubted the Pope’s
infallibility,” Guidi declares it to be an invention of the fifteenth
century.
The following account of the dialogue between the Pope and the Cardinal is
current at Rome, and it seems to rest on the authority of Pius himself,
who is notoriously fond of telling every one he meets how he has lectured
this or that dignitary:—
Guidi, on being summoned by the Pope directly after his speech, was
greeted with the words, “You are my enemy, you are the coryphæus of my
opponents, ungrateful towards my person; you have propounded heretical
doctrine.” _Guidi._—“My speech is in the hands of the Presidents, if your
Holiness will read it, and detect what is supposed to be heretical in it.
I gave it at once to the under-secretary (_sottosecretario_) that people
might not be able to say anything had been interpolated into it.” _The
Pope._—“You have given great offence to the majority of the Council; all
five Presidents are against you and are displeased.” _Guidi._—“Some
material error may have escaped me, but certainly not a formal one: I have
simply stated the doctrine of tradition and of St. Thomas.” _The
Pope._—“_La tradizione son’ io—vi farò far nuovamente la professione di
fede._” _Guidi._—“I am and remain subject to the authority of the Holy
See, but I ventured to discuss a question not yet made an article of
faith; if your Holiness decides it to be such in a Constitution, I shall
certainly not dare to oppose it.” _The Pope._—“The value of your speech
may be measured by those whom it has pleased. Who has been eager to
testify to you his joy? That Bishop Strossmayer who is my personal enemy
has embraced you; you are in collusion with him.” _Guidi._—“I don’t know
him, and have never before spoken to him.” _The Pope._—“It is clear you
have spoken so as to please the world, the Liberals, the Revolution, and
the Government of Florence.” _Guidi._—“Holy Father, have the goodness to
have my speech given you.”
The same afternoon a Spanish Bishop belonging to the extremest
Infallibilists said, “Absque dubio facies Concilii est immutata. Oportet
huic sermoni serio studere.” When Guidi asked how the Cardinals had taken
his speech, Mathieu replied, “Cum seriâ silentiosâ approbatione,” on which
Guidi observed, “Sunt quidam qui idem mecum sentiunt, sed deest illis
animi fortitudo.”
“La tradizione son’ io”—it would be impossible to give a briefer, more
pregnant or more epigrammatic description of the whole system which is now
to be made dominant than is contained in those few words. All the members
of the _Civiltà_, the thick volumes of Schrader, Weninger and the Jesuits
of Laach are outdone by this clear and simple utterance. Pius will take
rank in history with the men who have known how by a happy inspiration to
throw a great thought into the most adequate form of words, which
impresses it for ever indelibly on the memory. The formula is worthy to be
classed with the equally pregnant saying of Boniface VIII., “The Pope
holds all rights locked up in his breast.” It is bruited about here from
mouth to mouth, and the analogy of Louis XIV., which inevitably occurs to
everybody, reaches even further. Every day since I have witnessed the
drama being enacted here, has the saying suggested itself to me,
“L’Église, c’est moi.” Any one who would form a judgment of the state of
things here should be recommended above all to read a work like, _e.g._,
Lemontey’s _Essai sur l’établissement monarchique de Louis __XIV._, or the
instructions of the King for the Dauphin. One sees there how absolute
sovereignty, the intoxicating sense of irresponsible power—and spiritual
absolutism is far more overpowering than political—leads almost of
necessity to the notion of infallibility and divine enlightenment. Louis
XIV. says seriously and drily to his son, “As God’s representative we have
part in the divine knowledge as well as the divine authority.”(149) And he
warns him that all his own errors had arisen from his too great modesty in
giving ear to extraneous advisers. For eight hundred years the question
has been disputed, why the Popes are so short-lived, and the phenomenon
has been ascribed to a special divine dispensation which removes them
betimes, that they may not be morally poisoned by too long enjoyment of
their dignity—“ne malitia mutaret intellectum.”
The minority perceive, on a calmer consideration, that the two canons
proposed by Guidi would not provide sufficient security for the episcopate
taking part in the teaching office of the Church according to the
integrity of her constitution. The second indeed, like a well-aimed arrow,
hits the mark. It calls the thing by its right name, and anathematizes the
purely personal infallibility of the Pope, independent of the consent of
the Church and resting on direct divine inspiration, as a heresy, which it
unquestionably is in the eyes of every theologian who knows anything of
the Church and her tradition; but then, after the Pope has so openly and
expressly committed himself to precisely this view of the Church, it is
thought impossible here in Rome, and close to the Vatican, to throw an
anathema in his face. And besides the expression in the first canon, that
the consentient “consilium Ecclesiæ” is requisite for an infallible papal
utterance, is open to the same charge of vagueness as the notorious and
much-abused _ex cathedrâ_, and could as easily be explained away into the
mere arbitrary caprice of the Pope. It would always rest with him in the
last resort to maintain “ex certâ scientiâ” that the “consilium Ecclesiæ”
agreed with his own judgment.
A remodelling of the fourth canon has been undertaken, but the new formula
is not known. It is however much talked of among the Bishops, and the
general view is that it remains substantially unchanged, and still
contains the personal infallibility of the Pope independently of the
Church. Manning had said that the utmost regard that was possible should
be paid to the views of the Opposition in the alteration of the chapter.
And so those Bishops still hope for the accomplishment of their desires
who, like Ketteler and Melchers, entreat that only one, however sterile,
verbal concession may be made, so as to give them a bridge on which to
pass over the gulf safely into the camp of the majority.
I lately heard a Roman layman say that what most surprised him among the
many wonderful things he had seen here was the contempt for the Catholic
Church which prevails here. For that contempt could not be more
emphatically expressed than by the Pope appropriating to himself what
according to the ancient doctrine belongs to her, and declaring himself
the sole and exclusive organ of the Holy Ghost. It is the same here
universally; when one talks with a Roman, the _Curia_, the Pope, is
everything, and the Church nothing but the “contribuens plebs.” My
informant thought it was easy enough to understand the view of born
Romans, but difficult to give any rational account of the attitude of the
episcopal majority, for it must be clear to every one of them that the
promulgation of the new dogma would destroy irrevocably all episcopal
independence of Rome, and strip the nimbus from the brow of the Bishop who
is a successor of the Apostles. I observed to him that in Romance
countries this primitive idea of the episcopate had long since vanished,
as he might easily convince himself by asking the next Italian peasant or
shopkeeper he met what was his notion of a Bishop. And five-sixths of the
majority belong to these countries,
In the Congregation of June 20 the Deputation put up one of its members,
Bishop d’Avanzo of Calvi and Teano, to speak. For there was urgent need of
promptly meeting the great scandal given by Guidi, and deterring any
Cardinal who might be so disposed from following his example. The speaker
allowed that in dogmatic decrees the tradition of the Church must be
consulted and the Holy Ghost invoked, but how this was to be done was left
to the judgment of the Pope, By his second canon Guidi passed over “ad
aliena non Catholica castra,” exceeded all Gallicans and wanted—he, an
Italian, a Dominican and a Cardinal—to canonize Gallicanism. A shudder ran
through the ranks of all the Italians who live between Ferrara and Malta,
but they remembered for their comfort that the unworthy son of the
peninsula had been for some years professor at Vienna, and it was obvious
that the German malaria he had caught there was the cause of this
matricidal heresy.
Guidi had said that the admonition to Peter to confirm his brethren
pre-supposed something to be confirmed, _i.e._, that the Pope only
confirmed the doctrine already maintained by the Bishops. To this d’Avanzo
answered that it was utterly uncatholic, and one must rather begin from
above and not from below, and ascribe the authorship and initiation of
doctrine to the Pope, who was immediately inspired by the Holy Ghost;
“causa princeps infallibilitatis est assistentia Spiritûs Sancti.” And
here followed a statement that must be given word for word: “Supervacaneum
est omne additamentum, nulla emendatio in decreto et canone schematis
acceptatur; nulla conditio, nulla limitatio admittetur per deputationem;
inutilis est igitur omnis labor? ‘Animalis homo non percipit quod de cœlo
est.’ ”(150) To say the definition was inopportune was merely pandering to
the corrupt portion of society, and especially to the tribe of Government
officials. The speaker added emphatically: “Satis fit servis Satanæ, qui
sunt gubernantes, negantes ordinem supernaturalem—ergo Decretum est
opportunum. In Pontifice Spiritus Domini vivit et agit, Pontifex ergo hôc
Spiritu agente errare non potest.” It became known at once in the Council
that this declaration, which annihilated so many hopes, had been made in
the name and by special command of the Pope, and that “the animal man”
meant the Opposition.
The two next speakers were the titular Patriarchs Ballerini and Valerga.
The first said with notable frankness, “Were we to let personal
infallibility drop, we should destroy the obedience due to the Pope and
exalt ourselves against God Himself.” In other words, the Vice-God orders
us to declare him infallible, and of course we obey implicitly.
Valerga’s appearance was the beginning of a comedy, which was repeated in
subsequent sittings. He wanted to prove papal infallibility by inferences
from the Florentine decree, which was received by all; but he was twice
interrupted by the Presidents for not keeping to the question. He
thereupon left the tribune, not without remarks being made by Opposition
Bishops that they saw this treatment was not reserved for them only. The
same thing happened on June 22 to Bishop Apuzzo of Sorrento and Archbishop
Spaccapietra. On the 20th, towards the end of the debate, Archbishop
MacHale of Tuam in Ireland spoke with great severity against the decree,
the fatal consequences of which he seems to appreciate better than most of
his Irish colleagues. Bishop Apuzzo reminded the Hungarians that they once
had a primate (Szelepcsenyi, a pupil of the Jesuits) who had summoned a
synod to condemn the Gallican Articles of 1682, and that quite recently a
Provincial Synod at Colocza had used language of very infallibilist sound.
Haynald took part in that Synod, and he, as well as Rauscher, to whom the
same reproach was addressed, had already observed that it would not do to
put a strictly logical interpretation on mere complimentary phrases. In
the course of his speech Apuzzo became still more abusive. “Those are the
sons of Satan,” he exclaimed at last, “who say the Bishops are judges in
the Church. No! we are but poor sinners.” At the same time he proposed a
supplement still more peremptory than the chapter. Spaccapietra came to
grief in Church history, which is more grossly mishandled at Rome and in
the Council Hall, when it is appealed to at all, than anywhere else. This
time St. Polycarp’s yielding to the Pope about the observance of Easter—he
notoriously did just the reverse—was to serve as an example to the
Opposition. When the speaker went on to utter fierce invectives against
Cardinal Guidi, he was interrupted. He declared he had only something to
say against the schismatics, but the President closed his mouth in
theatrical fashion saying, “Cedat verbum tintinnabulo.” So he left the
rostrum.
Men breathed more freely when, after these hollow declamations, two
British Bishops brought the clear practical sense of their race and
country to bear on the question and the previous discussion of it. The
first of them, Archbishop Errington, who was formerly Cardinal Wiseman’s
coadjutor but soon got out of favour at Rome, pointedly characterized the
vicious nature of the whole transaction; there were speeches on both
sides, one affirming, another denying, and no one could feel that he had
refuted anything or advanced his cause the least by his words. The
Deputation alone had the privilege of referring to the speeches and
examining them, and it belonged to the majority, not to the Council; “how
it was formed, we know.” As a tribunal the Council was bound to institute
a calm and searching investigation of facts, tradition and testimonies,
and for this only one means was available, which was employed at the
former great Councils including the Tridentine, to form deputations from
both parties for earnest conference, where scientific examination might
take the place of rhetorical harangues—from both parties, for it was idle
with Bilio to bid them ignore the existence of two parties. “Modo in hôc
Concilio fit aliter et illud ineptissime,” he concluded, and he proposed
the formula, “Magisterium universalis Ecclesiæ est infallibile.”
The next speech, of Vitelleschi, who is Archbishop of Osimo but has never
been in his diocese, though it is so near, left no impression; it was an
exhortation to vote infallibility unanimously. And then followed
Archbishop Conolly of Halifax with a speech such as has seldom been heard
here. “Thrice,” he said, “have I asked for proof from Scripture according
to its authentic interpretation, from Tradition and from Councils, that
the Bishops of the Catholic Church ought to be excluded from the
definition of dogmas; but my request has not been complied with, and now I
adjure you, like the blind man on the way to Jericho, to give us sight
that we may believe. Hitherto we have recognised the strongest motive for
the credibility of Catholic doctrine in the general consent of the Church
notified through the collective episcopate; this has been our shield
against all external assailants, and by this powerful magnet we have drawn
hundreds of thousands into the Church. Is this our invincible weapon of
attack and defence now to be broken and trampled under foot, and the
thousand-headed episcopate with the millions of faithful at its back to
shrink into the voice and witness of a single man? Let the Deputation
prove to us that it has really been always the belief of the Church that
the Pope is everything and the Bishops nothing. The Council of Jerusalem
did not adopt the formula of Peter but of John, who spoke before him, and
in the Apostles’ Creed we do not say ‘Credo in Petrum et successores
ejus,’ but ‘Credo in unam Ecclesiam Catholicam.’ We Bishops have no right
to renounce for ourselves and our successors the hereditary and original
rights of the episcopate, to renounce the promise of Christ, ‘I am with
you to the end of the world.’ But now they want to reduce us to nullities,
to tear the noblest jewel from our pontifical breastplate, to deprive us
of the highest prerogative of our office, and to transform the whole
Church and the Bishops with it into a rabble of blind men, among whom is
one alone who sees, so that they must shut their eyes and believe whatever
he tells them.”
Was it confidence of victory that moved the Legates to allow the bold and
free-minded American, who spoke with the full weight of a deep and
laboriously attained conviction, to bring these earnest words to a close
without interruption, after they had recently reduced three of their own
speakers in succession to silence? I know not. It was the unenviable lot
of the Archbishop of Granada, Monzon y Martins Benvenuto, to follow
Conolly. No one expects at this Council ideas or facts from a Spaniard,
but merely bombast and abject protestations of homage. Since they no
longer have Queen Isabella and the throne has been vacant, these prelates
have transferred their undivided devotion to the Pope, and among the
reptiles here they are the most cringing after the Neapolitans. Monzon
said he thirsted for new dogmas, and the infallibility of the Pope did not
satisfy him; he earnestly desired a second dogma, viz., the divine and
inviolable nature of the States of the Church.
It was reported two days ago that Cardinal Morichini, who formerly as
nuncio breathed some German air, intends to speak in Guidi’s sense, but
since the scene between the Pope and Guidi has become known, it is
generally thought that no Cardinal will be so foolhardy as to express any
other opinion in Council than that of the inspired Pope. Meanwhile there
are new speakers enrolled, among whom are Haynald, Strossmayer, the
Bishops of Dijon, Constantine, Tarentaise, etc. The number considerably
exceeds a hundred, but Errington has only too much reason for saying the
debates are like a boy riding a rocking-horse—movement without advance.
You may imagine what capital the Jesuits make out of the speech of the
Dominican Guidi. They are the supreme and thoroughly devoted body-guard of
the Roman See, and can alone be implicitly trusted. And in fact nobody
thinks it possible that a Jesuit should speak in Council like Guidi, as
neither does any one here credit a Jesuit with sincere conviction of what
he says; it is always known beforehand what he will say on any question,
viz., what the Order considers for its interest and imposes as a corporate
doctrine on its individual members. The sons of Ignatius remember now that
the Dominicans have never been trustworthy. As early as 1303 the French
appeal from Pope Boniface VIII. to a General Council was supported by 130
Dominicans at Paris, and at the Councils of Constance and Basle they took
the most active part in the measures against papal omnipotence and in
framing the mischievous canons of the fourth and fifth sessions of
Constance; they joined Savonarola in opposing Alexander VI. and preferred
being burned to submitting. And again they gave powerful aid in France to
the establishment of the Gallican doctrine. And what, say the Jesuits, is
the great Church history of the Dominican Natalis Alexander but an arsenal
from which to this day the opponents of infallibility get their weapons?
Preparations are already being made for the festivities which are to
accompany the promulgation of the new dogma. The Romans—the native
population—cannot understand why a part of the Bishops resist it so
stoutly, and no less mysterious to them is the fiery zeal of foreigners,
especially Frenchmen, in its favour. Their view is that infallibility, as
being likely to bring large sums of money into Rome, is certainly a
profitable and praiseworthy affair, and they are accordingly ready for
noisy demonstrations of joy. Plenty of sky-rockets will go up, there will
be illuminations, the pillars of the churches will be clothed in red
damask according to the local usage, and numberless wax-candles will be
burnt. Some enthusiasts think the fountain of Trevi will that day flow
with wine instead of water, and it is hoped that at nightfall a
transparency of the famous picture painted by the Pope’s command to
represent his infallibility will be shown to the faithful people. And next
time the French Veuillotists choose to cry in the streets “Long live the
infallible Pope!” some Romans will join the cry.
The festivities will absorb large sums of money, and the financiers are
not without anxiety; for however lucrative the new dogma may prove by and
bye, for the moment it is an unproductive capital, and the annual deficit
of thirty million franks cannot be covered by promises of future
prosperity. It has now been determined, since the huge bankruptcy of
Langrand-Dumonceaux, who had been named a Roman Count, has created some
alarm, to take in the Rhenish and Westphalian nobility with the
ecclesiastical unions there as sureties, and thus to negotiate a loan of
twenty million franks “al pari.” The noble presidents of the unions are
said to have already signified their willingness.
The rewards of those for whom there are no Cardinal’s hats are already
under consideration. It is said that about a hundred Bishops will be named
“assistants at the Pontifical Throne” in recognition of their services.
Others will be made “protonotarii apostolici,” most of them only
“protonotarii sopranumerarii non participanti.” Several priests especially
zealous for the good cause will be made titular Bishops, and others
“prelati domestici” and “monsignori,” or “camerieri segreti,” etc. Then
there are the distinctions by means of colours, and soon we shall be able
to measure a man’s zeal for the new dogma at the first glance by seeing
whether he wears the “abito paonazzo” or violet or scarlet. And there are
exceptional decorations for use in church kept in reserve, like what the
Archbishop of Algiers had given him.
The attitude of Ketteler creates astonishment and is studied as a riddle
to which no solution can be found. The Pope said to-day, “Io non capisco,
cosa vuole quel Ketteler, che un giorno distribuisce delle brochure contro
di me e contro della mia infallibilità, e che il giorno dopo scrive nei
giornali che sia pieno di devozione per me, e che crede alla mia
infallibilità, pare che sia proprio mezzo,” and thereupon he made a
gesture indicating that the Bishop of Mayence was not quite right in his
head.
In fact Ketteler is the only man here who perplexes a reporter or
historian. He has a work printed and distributed, in which infallibility
is declared to be an unscriptural and unecclesiastical doctrine, and he
says in his attack on me that according to his view Scripture and
Tradition (_i.e._, the two only sources for the Church’s faith) do not
justify its dogmatic definition. Yet he affirms that he was always an
infallibilist believer and will soon be more so than ever. It is difficult
to report on the performances of a theological gymnast who seems rather to
balance himself in mid air than to have firm ground under his feet. Here
it is thought that he follows the counsel of his powerful patrons in the
German College and the Gesù, who have made him understand that the new
dogma will certainly be proclaimed, and that he would do well to change as
speedily as he can from an inopportunist to a zealous advocate and
executor of the decree. He has lately been reproached by an influential
theologian (Gass) with making his own Church worse than it is by his
doctrine that the Catholic Church knows of no duty of obedience against
conscience. It will certainly never occur to me, now or at any future
time, to have recourse to the conscience of Bishop Ketteler; that would
indeed be the last refuge one would fly to!