_Rome, July 2, 1870._—The Pope’s reported answer to those who spoke to him
of the sufferings of the Bishops and their danger of death, and the
consequent need for proroguing the Council, is passing from mouth to
mouth. I should consider it a sin to publish it. Were it true, one would
have to treat the man who could so speak as the Orsini treated Boniface
viii. in his last days. If it is not true, it is very remarkable that the
Romans have no hesitation in circulating it and really credit their Pope
with it. This and the disdain bordering on simple contempt with which the
Romans look down on the Bishops are among the indelible impressions they
will take back with them over the Alps.
In the sitting of 28th June Bishop Vitali of Ferentino in the Roman States
first inveighed against the long speeches of the Bishops, and then broke
into a dithyrambic panegyric on his master, the Pope, who, like the
Emperor Titus, was the “deliciæ orbis terrarum.” He was somewhat abruptly
interrupted by the Legates in the middle of his rhapsody. Ginoulhiac,
Archbishop of Lyons, who is the most learned member of the French
episcopate after Maret, next delivered an ably and carefully composed
speech, which was not interrupted. He appealed to the words and example of
former Popes who had acknowledged—like _e.g._, Celestine I. in 430—that
they were not masters of the faith but only guardians of the traditional
doctrine, and that not singly but in unison with all Churches and their
Bishops, as was clearly expressed in the decree. Pius VI., strong as was
the pressure put upon him by France, delayed a long time the issue of the
decree against the civil Constitution of the clergy of 1790, because, as
he wrote to the King, the Pope must first conscientiously ascertain how
the faithful will receive his decision. But a large section of Catholics
were not at all disposed to receive this _Schema_, and the decree would
evidently evoke the bitterest hostility to the Church where it did not
already exist, and immensely increase it where it did. Pius VI. then said
that, if the Roman See, the centre of the Church, lost its authority
through exaggerating its claims, all was lost. Pius IX. should take care
that this doctrine did not become a snare to innumerable Catholics. He
concluded by commending the formula of St. Antoninus, which requires the
consent of the episcopate.
In the sitting of 30th June a member of the almost extinct third party
among the French, Sergent, Bishop of Quimper or Cornouailles, came
forward. He proposed adding to the _Schema_, which might then be accepted,
words requiring the co-operation for decisions on faith of the “episcopi,
sive dispersi sive in Concilio congregati.” But he insisted on the
superiority of the Pope to a Council according to the decree of Leo.
X.,—or, as he said, the fifth Lateran Council, and defended the order of
business imposed on this Council by Pius IX. But here he touched on a very
sore place; the Bishops sit here under the continual conviction of having
their hands tied in an illegitimate and tyrannical fashion, and knowing
that the order of business is in direct contradiction to the independence
of the ancient Councils. The Legates must have felt that the Opposition
would say, “Hæc excusatio est accusatio,” and that it would give the
requisite handle for again renewing their written protests by word of
mouth now at the decisive moment. Sergent was therefore called to order.
After the Bishop of Aversa, who spoke as an ordinary infallibilist, Bishop
Martin of Paderborn came forward and created a sensation. A German
infallibilist, like Martin, who was not kneaded and dressed in the Jesuit
school, is an interesting and curious phenomenon of itself, and produces
somewhat the same impression as an European who voluntarily lives among
savages and adopts their language and customs. But Bishop Martin’s
appearance was remarkable on other grounds also. It was long since any one
had been heard in the Council who spoke in so angry a tone and with such
noise and visible endeavour to supplement his stammering utterance by the
action of hands and feet. It was a difficult labour that Martin achieved,
like a singer drowning his own voice, and doubly meritorious in these
melting days. And here I may make a remark that should have been made
before: the Hall has really gained lately in acoustic qualities, from
having an awning stretched over it which acts as a sounding-board.
Martin shouted into the Hall that the personal infallibility of every Pope
was inseparable from the primacy, for the Pope was the supreme legislator,
and therefore he must of necessity be divinely preserved from all error.
The Bishops of the minority were amazed at this statement, for none of
them had expected a German Bishop to declare the whole code of the
Inquisition, as promulgated by the Popes from Innocent III. to Paul V.,
infallible and inspired. But there was still better behind. Two German
witnesses for infallibility were cited, Dr. Luther, on account of his
letter to the Pope in 1518, and Dr. Pichler of 1870. Up to 1763 all
Germans were stanch infallibilists, but then Febronianism came in and for
a time obscured this light of pure doctrine, which had previously shone so
bright in Catholic Germany. But an orthodox reaction had followed, thanks
to the excellent catechism of the Jesuit Deharbe, the Provincial Synod of
Cologne and several Pastorals. Martin then referred to Döllinger, and
reproached him with having in his earlier works—which were not
named—taught papal infallibility, whereas he now assailed it. The Bishop,
who is a member of the Deputation, then proposed a formula he had devised,
“Traditioni inhærentes docemus Pontificem, cum universalem Ecclesiam
docet, vi divinæ assistentiæ errare non posse.” But that was not enough,
without smiting down the opponents of the doctrine by a solemn anathema,
as follows, “Si quis dixerit non nisi accedente consensu Episcoporum
Romanum Pontificem errare non posse, anathema sit.” He moreover agreed
with Spalding and Dechamps that parish priests and others having cure of
souls should be required by a special admonition addressed to them to
impress this doctrine of infallibility on their people often and
emphatically from the pulpit.
The speech was delivered in the tone and manner of a confessor dealing
with a hardened sinner in his last moments, and the Germans, from whose
ranks the speaker had issued,—men like Rauscher, Haynald, Strossmayer,
Hefele—sat shamefaced with their eyes on the ground, while the delight of
the Italians and Spaniards could be read on their countenances at this
humiliation of the nation which prides itself on the superior culture of
its clergy. But they were surprised at Martin’s concluding declaration
that no doubt in Germany great dangers for the Church would follow from
the promulgation of the doctrine. It was mentioned in the Council Hall
that, in a widely circulated school-book which had passed through eleven
or twelve editions, Martin had taught the exact reverse of the doctrine he
now so noisily and peremptorily maintained; but then it was observed in
excuse for him that the heterodoxies of this book, though it bore his
name, were no fault of his, as he had simply transcribed it from the
papers of the late Professor Diekhoff, which were left in his charge.