In Germany the plan of penetrating the Council with lay influence took a

strange form. It was proposed that the German Catholics should be

represented by King John of Saxony. As a Catholic and a scholar, who had

shown, in his Commentary on Dante, that he had read St. Thomas, and as a

prince personally esteemed by the Pope, it was conceived that his

presence would be a salutary restraint. It was an impracticable idea;

but letters which reached Rome during the winter raised an impression

that the King regretted that he could not be there. The opinion of

Germany would still have some weight if the North and South, which

included more than thirteen millions of Catholics, worked together. It

was the policy of Hohenlohe to use this united force, and the

ultramontanes learned to regard him as a very formidable antagonist.

When their first great triumph, in the election of the Commission on

Doctrine, was accomplished, the commentary of a Roman prelate was, "Che

colpo per il Principe Hohenlohe!" The Bavarian envoy in Rome did not

share the views of his chief, and he was recalled in November. His

successor had capacity to carry out the known policy of the prince; but

early in the winter the ultramontanes drove Hohenlohe from office, and

their victory, though it was exercised with moderation, and was not

followed by a total change of policy, neutralised the influence of

Bavaria in the Council.

The fall of Hohenlohe and the abstention of France hampered the Federal

Government of Northern Germany. For its Catholic subjects, and

ultimately in view of the rivalry with France, to retain the friendship

of the papacy is a fixed maxim at Berlin. Count Bismarck laid down the

rule that Prussia should display no definite purpose in a cause which

was not her own, but should studiously keep abreast of the North German

bishops. Those bishops neither invoked, nor by their conduct invited,

the co-operation of the State; and its influence would have been

banished from the Council but for the minister who represented it in

Rome. The vicissitudes of a General Council are so far removed from the

normal experience of statesmen that they could not well be studied or

acted upon from a distance. A government that strictly controlled and

dictated the conduct of its envoy was sure to go wrong, and to frustrate

action by theory. A government that trusted the advice of its minister

present on the spot enjoyed a great advantage. Baron Arnim was

favourably situated. A Catholic belonging to any but the ultramontane

school would have been less willingly listened to in Rome than a

Protestant who was a conservative in politics, and whose regard for the

interests of religion was so undamaged by the sectarian taint that he

was known to be sincere in the wish that Catholics should have cause to

rejoice in the prosperity of their Church. The apathy of Austria and the

vacillation of France contributed to his influence, for he enjoyed the

confidence of bishops from both countries; and he was able to guide his

own government in its course towards the Council.

The English Government was content to learn more and to speak less than

the other Powers at Rome. The usual distrust of the Roman Court towards

a Liberal ministry in England was increased at the moment by the measure

which the Catholics had desired and applauded. It seemed improbable to

men more solicitous for acquired rights than for general political

principle, that Protestant statesmen who disestablished their own Church

could feel a very sincere interest in the welfare of another. Ministers

so Utopian as to give up solid goods for an imaginary righteousness

seemed, as practical advisers, open to grave suspicion. Mr. Gladstone

was feared as the apostle of those doctrines to which Rome owes many

losses. Public opinion in England was not prepared to look on papal

infallibility as a matter of national concern, more than other dogmas

which make enemies to Catholicism. Even if the Government could have

admitted the Prussian maxim of keeping in line with the bishops, it

would have accomplished nothing. The English bishops were divided; but

the Irish bishops, who are the natural foes of the Fenian plot, were by

an immense majority on the ultramontane side. There was almost an

ostentation of care on the part of the Government to avoid the

appearance of wishing to influence the bishops or the Court of Rome.

When at length England publicly concurred in the remonstrances of

France, events had happened which showed that the Council was raising up

dangers for both Catholic and liberal interests. It was a result so easy

to foresee, that the Government had made it clear from the beginning

that its extreme reserve was not due to indifference.

The lesser Catholic Powers were almost unrepresented in Rome. The

government of the Regent of Spain possessed no moral authority over

bishops appointed by the Queen; and the revolution had proved so hostile

to the clergy that they were forced to depend on the Pope. Diplomatic

relations being interrupted, there was nothing to restrain them from

seeking favour by unqualified obedience.

Portugal had appointed the Count de Lavradio ambassador to the Council;

but when he found that he was alone he retained only the character of

envoy to the Holy See. He had weight with the small group of Portuguese

bishops; but he died before he could be of use, and they drifted into

submission.

Belgium was governed by M. Frere Orban, one of the most anxious and

laborious enemies of the hierarchy, who had no inducement to interfere

with an event which justified his enmity, and was, moreover, the

unanimous wish of the Belgian Episcopate. When Protestant and Catholic

Powers joined in exhorting Rome to moderation, Belgium was left out.

Russia was the only Power that treated the Church with actual hostility

during the Council, and calculated the advantage to be derived from

decrees which would intensify the schism.

Italy was more deeply interested in the events at Rome than any other

nation. The hostility of the clergy was felt both in the political and

financial difficulties of the kingdom; and the prospect of conciliation

would suffer equally from decrees confirming the Roman claims, or from

an invidious interposition of the State. Public opinion watched the

preparations for the Council with frivolous disdain; but the course to

be taken was carefully considered by the Menabrea Cabinet. The laws

still subsisted which enabled the State to interfere in religious

affairs; and the government was legally entitled to prohibit the

attendance of the bishops at the Council, or to recall them from it. The

confiscated church property was retained by the State, and the claims of

the episcopate were not yet settled. More than one hundred votes on

which Rome counted belonged to Italian subjects. The means of applying

administrative pressure were therefore great, though diplomatic action

was impossible. The Piedmontese wished that the resources of their

ecclesiastical jurisprudence should be set in motion. But Minghetti, who

had lately joined the Ministry, warmly advocated the opinion that the

supreme principle of the liberty of the Church ought to override the

remains of the older legislation, in a State consistently free; and,

with the disposition of the Italians to confound Catholicism with the

hierarchy, the policy of abstention was a triumph of liberality. The

idea of Prince Hohenlohe, that religion ought to be maintained in its

integrity and not only in its independence, that society is interested

in protecting the Church even against herself, and that the enemies of

her liberty are ecclesiastical as well as political, could find no

favour in Italy. During the session of 1869, Menabrea gave no pledge to

Parliament as to the Council; and the bishops who inquired whether they

would be allowed to attend it were left unanswered until October.

Menabrea then explained in a circular that the right of the bishops to

go to the Council proceeded from the liberty of conscience, and was not

conceded under the old privileges of the crown, or as a favour that

could imply responsibility for what was to be done. If the Church was

molested in her freedom, excuse would be given for resisting the

incorporation of Rome. If the Council came to decisions injurious to the

safety of States, it would be attributed to the unnatural conditions

created by the French occupation, and might be left to the enlightened

judgment of Catholics.

It was proposed that the fund realised by the sale of the real property

of the religious corporations should be administered for religious

purposes by local boards of trustees representing the Catholic

population, and that the State should abdicate in their favour its

ecclesiastical patronage, and proceed to discharge the unsettled claims

of the clergy. So great a change in the plans by which Sella and

Rattazzi had impoverished the Church in 1866 and 1867 would, if frankly

carried into execution, have encouraged an independent spirit among the

Italian bishops; and the reports of the prefects represented about

thirty of them as being favourable to conciliation. But the Ministry

fell in November, and was succeeded by an administration whose leading

members, Lanza and Sella, were enemies of religion. The Court of Rome

was relieved from a serious peril.

The only European country whose influence was felt in the attitude of

its bishops was one whose government sent out no diplomatists. While the

Austrian Chancellor regarded the issue of the Council with a profane and

supercilious eye, and so much indifference prevailed at Vienna that it

was said that the ambassador at Rome did not read the decrees, and that

Count Beust did not read his despatches, the Catholic statesmen in

Hungary were intent on effecting a revolution in the Church. The system

which was about to culminate in the proclamation of infallibility, and

which tended to absorb all power from the circumference into the centre,

and to substitute authority for autonomy, had begun at the lower

extremities of the hierarchical scale. The laity, which once had its

share in the administration of Church property and in the deliberations

of the clergy, had been gradually compelled to give up its rights to the

priesthood, the priests to the bishops, and the bishops to the Pope.

Hungary undertook to redress the process, and to correct centralised

absolutism by self-government. In a memorandum drawn up in April 1848,

the bishops imputed the decay of religion to the exclusion of the people

from the management of all Church affairs, and proposed that whatever is

not purely spiritual should be conducted by mixed boards, including lay

representatives elected by the congregations. The war of the revolution

and the reaction checked this design; and the Concordat threw things

more than ever into clerical hands. The triumph of the liberal party

after the peace of Prague revived the movements; and Eoetvoes called on

the bishops to devise means of giving to the laity a share and an

interest in religious concerns. The bishops agreed unanimously to the

proposal of Deak, that the laity should have the majority in the boards

of administration; and the new constitution of the Hungarian Church was

adopted by the Catholic Congress on the 17th of October 1869, and

approved by the King on the 25th. The ruling idea of this great measure

was to make the laity supreme in all that is not liturgy and dogma, in

patronage, property, and education; to break down clerical exclusiveness

and government control; to deliver the people from the usurpations of

the hierarchy, and the Church from the usurpations of the State. It was

an attempt to reform the Church by constitutional principles, and to

crush ultramontanism by crushing Gallicanism. The Government, which had

originated the scheme, was ready to surrender its privileges to the

newly-constituted authorities; and the bishops acted in harmony with the

ministers and with public opinion. Whilst this good understanding

lasted, and while the bishops were engaged in applying the impartial

principles of self-government at home, there was a strong security that

they would not accept decrees that would undo their work. Infallibility

would not only condemn their system, but destroy their position. As the

winter advanced the influence of these things became apparent. The

ascendency which the Hungarian bishops acquired from the beginning was

due to other causes.

The political auspices under which the Council opened were very

favourable to the papal cause. The promoters of infallibility were able

to coin resources of the enmity which was shown to the Church. The

danger which came to them from within was averted. The policy of

Hohenlohe, which was afterwards revived by Daru, had been, for a time,

completely abandoned by Europe. The battle between the papal and the

episcopal principle could come off undisturbed, in closed lists.

Political opposition there was none; but the Council had to be governed

under the glare of inevitable publicity, with a free press in Europe,

and hostile views prevalent in Catholic theology. The causes which made

religious science utterly powerless in the strife, and kept it from

grappling with the forces arrayed against it, are of deeper import than

the issue of the contest itself.

While the voice of the bishops grew louder in praise of the Roman

designs, the Bavarian Government consulted the universities, and

elicited from the majority of the Munich faculty an opinion that the

dogma of infallibility would be attended with serious danger to society.

The author of the Bohemian pamphlet affirmed that it had not the

conditions which would enable it ever to become the object of a valid

definition. Janus compared the primacy, as it was known to the Fathers

of the Church, with the ultramontane ideal, and traced the process of

transformation through a long series of forgeries. Maret published his

book some weeks after Janus and the Reform. It had been revised by

several French bishops and divines, and was to serve as a vindication of

the Sorbonne and the Gallicans, and as the manifesto of men who were to

be present at the Council. It had not the merit of novelty or the fault

of innovation, but renewed with as little offence as possible the

language of the old French school.[373] While Janus treated

infallibility as the critical symptom of an ancient disease, Maret

restricted his argument to what was directly involved in the defence of

the Gallican position. Janus held that the doctrine was so firmly rooted

and so widely supported in the existing constitution of the Church, that

much must be modified before a genuine OEcumenical Council could be

celebrated. Maret clung to the belief that the real voice of the Church

would make itself heard at the Vatican. In direct contradiction with

Janus, he kept before him the one practical object, to gain assent by

making his views acceptable even to the unlearned.

At the last moment a tract appeared which has been universally

attributed to Doellinger, which examined the evidences relied on by the

infallibilists, and stated briefly the case against them. It pointed to

the inference that their theory is not merely founded on an illogical

and uncritical habit, but on unremitting dishonesty in the use of texts.

This was coming near the secret of the whole controversy, and the point

that made the interference of the Powers appear the only availing

resource. For the sentiment on which infallibility is founded could not

be reached by argument, the weapon of human reason, but resided in

conclusions transcending evidence, and was the inaccessible postulate

rather than a demonstrable consequence of a system of religious faith.

The two doctrines opposed, but never met each other. It was as much an

instinct of the ultramontane theory to elude the tests of science as to

resist the control of States. Its opponents, baffled and perplexed by

the serene vitality of a view which was impervious to proof, saw want of

principle where there was really a consistent principle, and blamed the

ultramontane divines for that which was of the essence of ultramontane

divinity. How it came that no appeal to revelation or tradition, to

reason or conscience, appeared to have any bearing whatever on the

issue, is a mystery which Janus and Maret and Doellinger's reflections

left unexplained.

The resources of mediaeval learning were too slender to preserve an

authentic record of the growth and settlement of Catholic doctrine. Many

writings of the Fathers were interpolated; others were unknown, and

spurious matter was accepted in their place. Books bearing venerable

names--Clement, Dionysius, Isidore--were forged for the purpose of

supplying authorities for opinions that lacked the sanction of

antiquity. When detection came, and it was found that fraud had been

employed in sustaining doctrines bound up with the peculiar interests of

Rome and of the religious Orders, there was an inducement to depreciate

the evidences of antiquity, and to silence a voice that bore obnoxious

testimony. The notion of tradition underwent a change; it was required

to produce what it had not preserved. The Fathers had spoken of the

unwritten teaching of the apostles, which was to be sought in the

churches they had founded, of esoteric doctrines, and views which must

be of apostolic origin because they are universal, of the inspiration of

general Councils, and a revelation continued beyond the New Testament.

But the Council of Trent resisted the conclusions which this language

seemed to countenance, and they were left to be pursued by private

speculation. One divine deprecated the vain pretence of arguing from

Scripture, by which Luther could not be confuted, and the Catholics were

losing ground;[374] and at Trent a speaker averred that Christian

doctrine had been so completely determined by the Schoolmen that there

was no further need to recur to Scripture. This idea is not extinct, and

Perrone uses it to explain the inferiority of Catholics as Biblical

critics.[375] If the Bible is inspired, says Peresius, still more must

its interpretation be inspired. It must be interpreted variously, says

the Cardinal of Cusa, according to necessity; a change in the opinion of

the Church implies a change in the will of God.[376] One of the greatest

Tridentine divines declares that a doctrine must be true if the Church

believes it, without any warrant from Scripture. According to Petavius,

the general belief of Catholics at a given time is the work of God, and

of higher authority than all antiquity and all the Fathers. Scripture

may be silent, and tradition contradictory, but the Church is

independent of both. Any doctrine which Catholic divines commonly

assert, without proof, to be revealed, must be taken as revealed. The

testimony of Rome, as the only remaining apostolic Church, is equivalent

to an unbroken chain of tradition.[377] In this way, after Scripture had

been subjugated, tradition itself was deposed; and the constant belief

of the past yielded to the general conviction of the present. And, as

antiquity had given way to universality, universality made way for

authority. The Word of God and the authority of the Church came to be

declared the two sources of religious knowledge. Divines of this school,

after preferring the Church to the Bible, preferred the modern Church to

the ancient, and ended by sacrificing both to the Pope. "We have not the

authority of Scripture," wrote Prierias in his defence of Indulgences,

"but we have the higher authority of the Roman pontiffs."[378] A bishop

who had been present at Trent confesses that in matters of faith he

would believe a single Pope rather than a thousand Fathers, saints, and

doctors.[379] The divine training develops an orthodox instinct in the

Church, which shows itself in the lives of devout but ignorant men more

than in the researches of the learned, and teaches authority not to need

the help of science, and not to heed its opposition. All the arguments

by which theology supports a doctrine may prove to be false, without

diminishing the certainty of its truth. The Church has not obtained, and

is not bound to sustain it, by proof. She is supreme over fact as over

doctrine, as Fenelon argues, because she is the supreme expounder of

tradition, which is a chain of facts.[380] Accordingly, the organ of one

ultramontane bishop lately declared that infallibility could be defined

without arguments; and the Bishop of Nimes thought that the decision

need not be preceded by long and careful discussion. The Dogmatic

Commission of the Council proclaims that the existence of tradition has

nothing to do with evidence, and that objections taken from history are

not valid when contradicted by ecclesiastical decrees.[381] Authority

must conquer history.

This inclination to get rid of evidence was specially associated with

the doctrine of papal infallibility, because it is necessary that the

Popes themselves should not testify against their own claim. They may be

declared superior to all other authorities, but not to that of their own

see. Their history is not irrelevant to the question of their rights. It

could not be disregarded; and the provocation to alter or to deny its

testimony was so urgent that men of piety and learning became a prey to

the temptation of deceit. When it was discovered in the manuscript of

the _Liber Diurnus_ that the Popes had for centuries condemned Honorius

in their profession of faith, Cardinal Bona, the most eminent man in

Rome, advised that the book should be suppressed if the difficulty could

not be got over; and it was suppressed accordingly.[382] Men guilty of

this kind of fraud would justify it by saying that their religion

transcends the wisdom of philosophers, and cannot submit to the

criticism of historians. If any fact manifestly contradicts a dogma,

that is a warning to science to revise the evidence. There must be some

defect in the materials or in the method. Pending its discovery, the

true believer is constrained humbly but confidently to deny the fact.

The protest of conscience against this fraudulent piety grew loud and

strong as the art of criticism became more certain. The use made of it

by Catholics in the literature of the present age, and their acceptance

of the conditions of scientific controversy, seemed to ecclesiastical

authorities a sacrifice of principle. A jealousy arose that ripened into

antipathy. Almost every writer who really served Catholicism fell sooner

or later under the disgrace or the suspicion of Rome. But its censures

had lost efficacy; and it was found that the progress of literature

could only be brought under control by an increase of authority. This

could be obtained if a general council declared the decisions of the

Roman congregations absolute, and the Pope infallible.

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