At the same time it must not be forgotten that the separation did not

ensue in consequence of the abuses of the Church. For the duty and

necessity of removing these abuses has always been recognised; and

only the difficulty of the thing, the not always unjustifiable fear

lest the wheat should be pulled up with the tares, prevented for a

time the Reformation, which was accomplished in the Church and

through her. Separation on account merely of abuses in ecclesiastical

life, when the doctrine is the same, is rejected as criminal by the

Protestants as well as by us. It is, therefore, for doctrine's sake

that the separation occurred; and the general discontent of the

people, the weakening of ecclesiastical authority by the existence of

abuses, only facilitated the adoption of the new doctrines. But now

on one side some of these defects and evils in the life of the Church

have disappeared; the others have greatly diminished since the

reforming movement; and on the other side, the principal doctrines

for which they separated, and on the truth of which, and their

necessity for salvation, the right and duty of secession was based,

are given up by Protestant science, deprived of their Scriptural

basis by exegesis, or at least made very uncertain by the opposition

of the most eminent Protestant divines. Meanwhile we live in hopes,

comforting ourselves with the conviction that history, or that

process of development in Europe which is being accomplished before

our eyes, as well in society and politics as in religion, is the

powerful ally of the friends of ecclesiastical union; and we hold out

our hands to Christians on the other side for a combined war of

resistance against the destructive movements of the age.

There are two circumstances which make us fear that the work will not be

received in the spirit in which it is written, and that its object will

not immediately be attained. The first of these is the extraordinary

effect which was produced by the declaration which the author made on

the occasion of the late assembly of the Catholic associations of

Germany at Munich. He stated simply, what is understood by every

Catholic out of Italy, and intelligible to every reasonable Protestant,

that the freedom of the Church imperatively requires that, in order to

protect the Pope from the perils which menace him, particularly in our

age, he should possess a sovereignty not merely nominal, and that his

right to his dominions is as good as that of all other legitimate

sovereigns. In point of fact, this expression of opinion, which occurs

even in the garbled reports of the lectures, leaves all those questions

on which it is possible for serious and dispassionate men to be divided

entirely open. It does not determine whether there was any excuse for

the disaffection of the Papal subjects; whether the security afforded by

a more extensive dominion is greater than the increased difficulty of

administration under the conditions inherited from the French

occupation; whether an organised system of tribute or domains might be

sufficient, in conjunction with a more restricted territory; whether the

actual loss of power is or is not likely to improve a misfortune for

religion. The storm of applause with which these words, simply

expressing that in which all agree, were received, must have suggested

to the speaker that his countrymen in general are unprepared to believe

that one, who has no other aspiration in his life and his works than the

advancement of the Catholic religion, can speak without a reverent awe

of the temporal government, or can witness without dismay its impending

fall. They must have persuaded themselves that not only the details, but

the substance of his lectures had been entirely misreported, and that

his views were as free from novelty as destitute of offence. It is hard

to believe that such persons will be able to reconcile themselves to the

fearless and straightforward spirit in which the first of Church

historians discusses the history of his own age.

Another consideration, almost equally significant with the attitude of

the great mass of Catholics, is the silence of the minority who agree

with Doellinger. Those earnest Catholics who, in their Italian

patriotism, insist on the possibility of reconciling the liberty of the

Holy See with the establishment of an ideal unity, Passaglia, Tosti,

the followers of Gioberti, and the disciples of Rosmini, have not

hesitated to utter openly their honest but most inconceivable

persuasion. But on the German side of the Alps, where no political

agitation affects the religious judgment, or drives men into disputes,

those eminent thinkers who agree with Doellinger are withheld by various

considerations from publishing their views. Sometimes it is the

hopelessness of making an impression, sometimes the grave inconvenience

of withstanding the current of opinion that makes them keep silence; and

their silence leaves those who habitually follow them not only without

means of expressing their views, but often without decided views to

express. The same influences which deprive Doellinger of the open support

of these natural allies will impede the success of his work, until

events have outstripped ideas, and until men awake to the discovery that

what they refused to anticipate or to prepare for, is already

accomplished.

Piety sometimes gives birth to scruples, and faith to superstition, when

they are not directed by wisdom and knowledge. One source of the

difficulty of which we are speaking is as much a defect of faith as a

defect of knowledge. Just as it is difficult for some Catholics to

believe that the supreme spiritual authority on earth could ever be in

unworthy hands, so they find it hard to reconcile the reverence due to

the Vicar of Christ, and the promises made to him, with the

acknowledgment of intolerable abuses in his temporal administration. It

is a comfort to make the best of the case, to draw conclusions from the

exaggerations, the inventions, and the malice of the accusers against

the justice of the accusation, and in favour of the accused. It is a

temptation to our weakness and to our consciences to defend the Pope as

we would defend ourselves--with the same care and zeal, with the same

uneasy secret consciousness that there are weak points in the case which

can best be concealed by diverting attention from them. What the defence

gains in energy it loses in sincerity; the cause of the Church, which is

the cause of truth, is mixed up and confused with human elements, and

is injured by a degrading alliance. In this way even piety may lead to

immorality, and devotion to the Pope may lead away from God.

The position of perpetual antagonism to a spirit which we abhor; the

knowledge that the clamour against the temporal power is, in very many

instances, inspired by hatred of the spiritual authority; the

indignation at the impure motives mixed up with the movement--all these

things easily blind Catholics to the fact that our attachment to the

Pope as our spiritual Head, our notion that his civil sovereignty is a

safeguard of his freedom, are the real motives of our disposition to

deny the truth of the accusations made against his government. It is

hard to believe that imputations which take the form of insults, and

which strike at the Church through the State, are well founded, and to

distinguish the design and the occasion from the facts. It is, perhaps,

more than we can expect of men, that, after defending the Pope as a

sovereign, because he is a pontiff, and adopting against his enemies the

policy of unconditional defence, they will consent to adopt a view which

corroborates to a great extent the assertions they have combated, and

implicitly condemns their tactics. It is natural to oppose one extreme

by another; and those who avoid both easily appear to be capitulating

with error. The effects of this spirit of opposition are not confined to

those who are engaged in resisting the No-popery party in England, or

the revolution in Italy. The fate of the temporal power hangs neither on

the Italian ministry nor on English influence, but on the decision of

the Emperor of the French; and the loudest maintainers of the rights of

the Holy See are among that party who have been the most zealous

adversaries of the Imperial system. The French Catholics behold in the

Roman policy of the emperor a scheme for obtaining over the Church a

power of which they would be the first victims. Their religious freedom

is in jeopardy while he has the fate of the Pope in his hands. That

which is elsewhere simply a manifestation of opinion and a moral

influence is in France an active interference and a political power.

They alone among Catholic subjects can bring a pressure to bear on him

who has had the initiative in the Italian movement. They fear by silence

to incur a responsibility for criminal acts. For them it is a season for

action, and the time has not yet come when they can speak with judicial

impartiality, or with the freedom of history, or determine how far, in

the pursuit of his ambitious ends, Napoleon III. is the instrument of

Providence, or how far, without any merit of his own, he is likely to

fulfil the expectations of those who see in him a new Constantine.

Whilst they maintain this unequal war, they naturally identify the

rights of the Church with her interests; and the wrongs of the Pope are

before their eyes so as to eclipse the realities of the Roman

government. The most vehement and one-sided of those who have dwelt

exclusively on the crimes of the Revolution and the justice of the Papal

cause, the Bishop of Orleans for instance, or Count de Montalembert,

might without inconsistency, and doubtless would without hesitation,

subscribe to almost every word in Doellinger's work; but in the position

they have taken they would probably deem such adhesion a great

rhetorical error, and fatal to the effect of their own writings. There

is, therefore, an allowance to be made, which is by no means a reproach,

for the peculiar situation of the Catholics in France.

When Christine of Sweden was observed to gaze long and intently at the

statue of Truth in Rome, a court-like prelate observed that this

admiration for Truth did her honour, as it was seldom shared by persons

in her station. "That," said the Queen, "is because truths are not all

made of marble." Men are seldom zealous for an idea in which they do not

perceive some reflection of themselves, in which they have not embarked

some portion of their individuality, or which they cannot connect with

some subjective purpose of their own. It is often more easy to

sympathise with a person in whose opposite views we discern a weakness

corresponding to our own, than with one who unsympathetically avoids to

colour the objectivity of truth, and is guided in his judgment by

facts, not by wishes. We endeavoured not many months ago to show how

remote the theology of Catholic Germany is in its scientific spirit from

that of other countries, and how far asunder are science and policy. The

same method applied to the events of our own day must be yet more

startling, and for a time we can scarcely anticipate that the author of

this work will escape an apparent isolation between the reserve of those

who share his views, but are not free to speak, and the foregone

conclusions of most of those who have already spoken. But a book which

treats of contemporary events in accordance with the signs of the time,

not with the aspirations of men, possesses in time itself an invincible

auxiliary. When the lesson which this great writer draws from the

example of the mediaeval Popes has borne its fruit; when the purpose for

which he has written is attained, and the freedom of the Holy See from

revolutionary aggression and arbitrary protection is recovered by the

heroic determination to abandon that which in the course of events has

ceased to be a basis of independence--he will be the first, but no

longer the only, proclaimer of new ideas, and he will not have written

in vain.

The Christian religion, as it addresses and adapts itself to all

mankind, bears towards the varieties of national character a relation of

which there was no example in the religions of antiquity, and which

heresy repudiates and inevitably seeks to destroy. For heresy, like

paganism, is national, and dependent both on the particular disposition

of the people and on the government of the State. It is identified with

definite local conditions, and moulded by national and political

peculiarities. Catholicity alone is universal in its character and

mission, and independent of those circumstances by which States are

established, and nations are distinguished from each other. Even Rome

had not so far extended her limits, nor so thoroughly subjugated and

amalgamated the races that obeyed her, as to secure the Church from the

natural reaction of national spirit against a religion which claimed a

universality beyond even that of the Imperial power. The first and most

terrible assault of ethnicism was in Persia, where Christianity appeared

as a Roman, and therefore a foreign and a hostile, system. As the Empire

gradually declined, and the nationalities, no longer oppressed beneath a

vigorous central force, began to revive, the heresies, by a natural

affinity, associated themselves with them. The Donatist schism, in which

no other country joined, was an attempt of the African people to

establish a separate national Church. Later on, the Egyptians adopted

the Monophysite heresy as the national faith, which has survived to this

day in the Coptic Church. In Armenia similar causes produced like

effects.

In the twelfth century--not, as is commonly supposed, in the time of

Photius and Cerularius, for religious communion continued to subsist

between the Latins and the Greeks at Constantinople till about the time

of Innocent III., but after the Crusades had embittered the antagonism

between East and West--another great national separation occurred. In

the Eastern Empire the communion with Rome was hateful to the two chief

authorities. The patriarch was ambitious to extend his own absolute

jurisdiction over the whole Empire, the emperor wished to increase that

power as the instrument of his own: out of this threefold combination of

interests sprang the Byzantine system. It was founded on the

ecclesiastical as well as civil despotism of the emperor, and on the

exclusive pride of the people in its nationality; that is, on those

things which are most essentially opposed to the Catholic spirit, and to

the nature of a universal Church. In consequence of the schism, the

sovereign became supreme over the canons of the Church and the laws of

the State; and to this imperial papacy the Archbishop of Thessalonica,

in the beginning of the fifteenth century, justly attributes the ruin

and degradation of the Empire. Like the Eastern schism, the schism of

the West in the fourteenth century arose from the predominance of

national interests in the Church: it proceeded from the endeavour to

convert the Holy See into a possession of the French people and a

subject of the French crown. Again, not long after, the Hussite

revolution sprang from the union of a new doctrine with the old

antipathy of the Bohemians for the Germans, which had begun in times

when the boundaries of Christianity ran between the two nations, and

which led to a strictly national separation, which has not yet exhausted

its political effects. Though the Reformation had not its origin in

national feelings, yet they became a powerful instrument in the hands of

Luther, and ultimately prevailed over the purely theological elements of

the movement.

The Lutheran system was looked on by the Germans with patriotic pride as

the native fruit, and especial achievement of the genius of their

country, and it was adopted out of Germany only by the kindred races of

Scandinavia. In every other land to which it has been transplanted by

the migrations of this century, Lutheranism appears as eradicated from

its congenial soil, loses gradually its distinctive features, and

becomes assimilated to the more consolatory system of Geneva. Calvinism

exhibited from the first no traces of the influence of national

character, and to this it owes its greater extension; whilst in the

third form of Protestantism, the Anglican Church, nationality is the

predominant characteristic. In whatever country and in whatever form

Protestantism has prevailed, it has always carried out the principle of

separation and local limitation by seeking to subject itself to the

civil power, and to confine the Church within the jurisdiction of the

State. It is dependent not so much on national character as on political

authority, and has grafted itself rather on the State than on the

people. But the institution which Christ founded in order to collect all

nations together in one fold under one shepherd, while tolerating and

respecting the natural historical distinctions of nations and of States,

endeavours to reconcile antagonism, and to smooth away barriers between

them, instead of estranging them by artificial differences, and erecting

new obstacles to their harmony. The Church can neither submit as a

whole to the influence of a particular people, nor impose on one the

features or the habits of another; for she is exalted in her catholicity

above the differences of race, and above the claims of political power.

At once the most firm and the most flexible institution in the world,

she is all things to all nations--educating each in her own spirit,

without violence to its nature, and assimilating it to herself without

prejudice to the originality of its native character. Whilst she thus

transforms them, not by reducing them to a uniform type, but by raising

them towards a common elevation, she receives from them services in

return. Each healthy and vigorous nation that is converted is a dynamic

as well as a numerical increase in the resources of the Church, by

bringing an accession of new and peculiar qualities, as well as of

quantity and numbers. So far from seeking sameness, or flourishing only

in one atmosphere, she is enriched and strengthened by all the varieties

of national character and intellect. In the mission of the Catholic

Church, each nation has its function, which its own position and nature

indicate and enable it to fulfil. Thus the extinct nations of antiquity

survive in the beneficial action they continue to exert within her, and

she still feels and acknowledges the influence of the African or of the

Cappadocian mind.

The condition of this immunity from the predominant influence of

national and political divisions, and of this indifference to the

attachment of particular States and races,--the security of unity and

universality,--consists in the existence of a single, supreme,

independent head. The primacy is the bulwark, or rather the

corner-stone, of Catholicism; without it, there would be as many

churches as there are nations or States. Not one of those who have

denounced the Papacy as a usurpation has ever attempted to show that the

condition which its absence necessarily involves is theologically

desirable, or that it is the will of God. It remains the most radical

and conspicuous distinction between the Catholic Church and the sects.

Those who attempt to do without it are compelled to argue that there is

no earthly office divinely appointed for the government of the Church,

and that nobody has received the mission to conduct ecclesiastical

affairs, and to preserve the divine order in religion. The several local

churches may have an earthly ruler, but for the whole Church of Christ

there is no such protection. Christ, therefore, is the only head they

acknowledge, and they must necessarily declare separation, isolation,

and discord to be a principle and the normal condition of His Church.

The rejection of the primacy of St. Peter has driven men on to a

slippery course, where all the steps are downwards. The Greeks first

proclaimed that they recognised no Pope, that each patriarch ruled over

a portion of the Church. The Anglicans rejected both Pope and patriarch,

and admitted no ecclesiastical order higher than the Episcopate. Foreign

Protestanism refused to tolerate even bishops, or any authority but the

parish clergy under the supremacy of the ruler of the land. Then the

sects abolished the local jurisdiction of the parish clergy, and

retained only preachers. At length the ministry was rejected as an

office altogether, and the Quakers made each individual his own prophet,

priest, and doctor.

The Papacy, that unique institution, the Crown of the Catholic system,

exhibits in its history the constant working of that law which is at the

foundation of the life of the Church, the law of continuous organic

development. It shared the vicissitudes of the Church, and had its part

in everything which influences the course and mode of her existence. In

early times it grew in silence and obscurity, its features were rarely

and imperfectly distinguishable; but even then the Popes exerted their

authority in all directions, and while the wisdom with which it was

exercised was often questioned, the right itself was undisputed. So long

as the Roman Empire upheld in its strong framework and kept together the

Church, which was confined mostly within its bounds, and checked with

the stern discipline of a uniform law the manifestations of national and

local divergence, the interference of the Holy See was less frequently

required, and the reins of Church government did not need to be tightly

drawn. When a new order of States emerged from the chaos of the great

migration, the Papacy, which alone stood erect amid the ruins of the

empire, became the centre of a new system and the moderator of a new

code. The long contest with the Germanic empire exhausted the political

power both of the empire and of the Papacy, and the position of the Holy

See, in the midst of a multitude of equal States, became more difficult

and more unfavourable. The Popes were forced to rely on the protection

of France, their supremacy over the States was at an end, and the

resistance of the nations commenced. The schism, the opposition of the

general Councils, the circumstances which plunged the Holy See into the

intrigues of Italian politics, and at last the Reformation, hastened the

decline of that extensive social and political power, the echoes and

reminiscences of which occasioned disaster and repulse whenever an

attempt was made to exercise it Ever since the Tridentine age, the Popes

have confined themselves more and more exclusively to the religious

domain; and here the Holy See is as powerful and as free at the present

day as at any previous period of its history. The perils and the

difficulties which surround it arise from temporal concerns,--from the

state of Italy, and from the possessions of the pontifical dominions.

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