OPPOSITION AMONG ROMAN CATHOLICS IN ENGLAND
The struggle of Catholic _versus_ Ultramontane in the Roman Communion
in England finds forcible expression in the famous letter of the
distinguished Roman Catholic layman, Sir John Throgmorton, in 1790:--
“He laid stress,” says a Roman writer, “on the fact that ever since
the day of Pius V.’s excommunication of Elizabeth, ‘the English
Catholics have been divided into two parties. The “Papistic” party,
on the one hand, upheld and maintained all the pretensions of the
Court of Rome, and were supported by all the influence of that Court,
sometimes by briefs from the Popes themselves.... The other party
consisted and still consists of the descendants of the old Catholic
families, and a respectable portion of the clergy who, true to the
religion of their ancestors, have uniformly ... protested against the
usurped authority of the Court of Rome.’ He denied that the original
cause of the difference--the question whether or no the Pope had the
power to depose sovereigns--represented adequately the distinction
between the two parties. The deposing power was no longer maintained
by any one; but the ‘Papistic’ party still remained, and taught the
Infallibility of the Pope and urged all his claims. He called on
English Catholics to dissociate themselves from this party and its
teaching.”[146]
[146] Quoted in W. Ward’s _Life of Wiseman_, i. p. 513.
The London Romanist clergy selected a Bishop of Catholic as opposed
to Ultramontane convictions. Rome refused, however, to accept their
selection, and the English Catholics submitted. Here is an illustration
of the method by which the older principles were to be suppressed.[147]
Nevertheless the older principles remained. The Roman body in
England continued to maintain its anti-Roman ideas. This appears
incontestably in their appeal to Parliament for removal of their
political disabilities, under which they had suffered terribly since
the days of Elizabeth. These political disabilities were the Nemesis
of the unfortunate action of the Papacy against Queen Elizabeth, and
of the theories on the relation between spiritual and temporal power
advocated by Roman writers of that period. The penal laws against the
Roman Communion in England were the product of fear, being in design
defensive against political results of Roman teaching. However, in
course of time, none too soon, nobler and juster counsels began to
prevail, and the time approached when all the impartial desired the
removal of restrictions and penalties which were formed on principles
of brutality and retaliation happily growing obsolete. But to secure
the removal of penal legislation, it was necessary for the Romanists
in England to reassure the public opinion that they were not bound by
theories from Rome irreconcilable with English loyalty.
[147] Quoted in W. Ward’s _Life of Wiseman_, i. p. 515.
When accordingly in the year 1788 a Committee of English Romanists
was formed to appeal to Parliament for the removal of Roman
disabilities,[148] the petitioners declared that it was a duty which
they owed to their country, as well as themselves, to protest in a
formal and solemn manner against doctrines which constituted no
part of their principles, religion, or belief.[149] Among these they
rejected the theory that excommunicated princes may be deposed or
murdered by their subjects. They declared that no ecclesiastical power
whatever can absolve subjects from allegiance to lawful temporal
authority.[150] They wrote: “We believe that no act that is in itself
immoral or dishonest can ever be justified by or under colour that
it is done either for the good of the Church or in obedience to any
ecclesiastical power whatever.”[151] And--what now particularly
concerns us here--they said: “We acknowledge no Infallibility in the
Pope.”
[148] See Butler, _Historical Memoirs of the English Catholics_, vol.
ii. p. 115ff.
[149] See Butler, _Historical Memoirs of the English Catholics_, vol.
ii. p. 117.
[150] _Ibid._ p. 118.
[151] _Ibid._ p. 119.
This protestation of the Roman Catholics of England brought about the
passing of the Relief Act of 1791. The representative character of the
document may be realised from the fact that it was signed by all the
four Vicars Apostolic; that is by all the highest Roman authorities in
England, by 240 priests; and in all by 1,523 members of the Anglo-Roman
body, among whom most of the educated and influential laity were
included. It would be interesting to ascertain what proportion the 240
priests bore to the total number of Roman clergy in this land. Accurate
statistics are not easily obtained. The Committee of English Romanists
claimed that the total number of Roman priests in England did not
exceed 260. Berington, in 1780, estimated the number as nearer 360,
of whom 110 were ex-Jesuits. From these figures it would appear that,
if the Jesuits are left out, nearly the whole body of Roman Clergy in
England, including their four Bishops, committed themselves frankly to
rejection of Papal Infallibility.[152]
[152] Bernard Ward, _Dawn of the Catholic Revival_, i. p. 151.
Dr Milner describes it, indeed, as “drawn up in ungrammatical language,
with inconclusive reasoning and erroneous theology.”[153] And a vicar
apostolic who first signed it afterwards withdrew his signature.[154]
On the other hand, an influential section of the Communion placed the
document in the British Museum, “that it may be preserved there as a
lasting memorial of their political and moral integrity.”[155]
[153] Cf. Husenbeth’s _Life of Milner_, p. 23.
[154] _Ibid._ p. 24.
[155] Cf. Gladstone, _Vaticanism_, p. 47.
The history of Irish Roman belief is similar. An Act for their relief
was passed in 1793. It contains an oath which states that “it is not an
article of the Catholic Faith, neither am I thereby required to believe
or profess that the Pope is infallible.”[156]
[156] _Ibid._ p. 48.
In an address to Protestants of the United Empire in 1813 by a Roman
Catholic writer (Charles Butler), anti-Roman prejudice is reassured
by the terms of the oath taken by Irish Roman Catholics:[157] “In the
oath taken by the Irish Roman Catholics they swear that ‘it is not an
article of the Catholic faith, and that they are not thereby bound to
believe or profess that the Pope is infallible.’”[158]
[157] Gladstone, _Vaticanism_, p. 218.
[158] _Ibid._ p. 230.
No less unmistakable is the language of a Roman Catholic Bishop in
England in 1822:--
“Bellarmine and some other divines, chiefly Italians, have believed
the Pope infallible, when proposing _ex cathedra_ an article of
faith. But in England or Ireland I do not believe that any Catholic
maintains the Infallibility of the Pope.”[159]
[159] Bishop Baine’s Defence, quoted in Gladstone, _Vaticanism_, p. 48.
The Pastoral Address of the Irish Bishops to their clergy and laity
in 1826 declared that it is “not an article of the Catholic faith,
neither are they thereby required to believe that the Pope is
infallible.”[160]
[160] Gladstone, _Vatican Decrees_, vol. xliii. ed. 1875.
Accordingly, a Roman Catholic nobleman, Lord Clifford, writing to
reassure the English peers on the Maynooth Endowment Bill, could say
in 1845: “It is not an article of Catholic faith that the Pope is
infallible even in matters of faith.”[161]
[161] Letters to the Earl of Winchelsea, p. 15.
There is not the slightest reason to doubt the sincerity of the
Romanist statements. They were not misrepresenting their convictions to
improve their circumstances. They genuinely believed these principles.
They claimed as Catholics an independence from Romanising views.
When Dr Wiseman (afterwards Cardinal) was nominated by the Pope to the
London District in 1847, nearly all the clergy, says Wilfred Ward,
“were sufficiently imbued by the conservative and national spirit to
be opposed to his energetic scheme of reform.”[162] They viewed with
distaste his “Romanising” proclivities. Trained in the College in
Rome, having spent years under the Pope’s immediate direction, Wiseman
returned to England bent on propagating that “papistic spirit” against
which the older English Roman Catholics, as represented by Sir John
Throgmorton, had so vigorously protested.[163] The introduction of
the Jesuit and other religious Orders was Wiseman’s work, and it was
repugnant to the temper and prejudices of the old Romanist families
in England. But Rome approved, and Wiseman persisted. Then came the
re-establishment of the Roman Hierarchy in England, the elevation of
Wiseman to the Cardinalate, and his return to England as Archbishop
of Westminster. Then the Tractarian movement gave new life to the
Anglican Church; but it also contributed new distinction and new
strength to the Roman Communion. Converts like Faber threw themselves,
with the convert’s proverbial intensity, into the most extreme of
Roman devotions, legends, and principles; much to the amazement and
disgust of the old-fashioned Romans, who found themselves regarded with
coldness and indifference, as half-Catholic, at Rome, while the zealous
converted extremists basked in the sunshine of Rome’s approval. There
is no little irony in the situation. The Vicar Apostolic of the London
district warned Newman on his conversion against “books of devotion
of the Italian School.”[164] Faber reproduced the most Italianised
lives of the saints. Bishop Ullathorne of Birmingham, himself of old
Roman family, considered these Italian compositions unsuited to this
country. Newman, as Superior of the Oratory, wrote to Faber, describing
them as “unsuited to England and unacceptable to Protestants.”[165]
Accordingly the publications ceased. But Wiseman’s exertions to promote
Ultramontanism within the Roman Communion continued, and were most
successful. Here is a letter of approval written to the Cardinal from
influential quarters in Rome:--
[162] _Life of Wiseman_, i. p. 515.
[163] _Ibid._ p. 512.
[164] _Life of Wiseman_, ii. p. 221.
[165] _Ibid._ p. 223.
“I can say that you have been the instrument under God, to _Romanise_
England.... You have been able to change the whole feeling of the
rising clergy, and to instil into the laity what Roman principles
they possess.”[166]
[166] 1859.
But if Wiseman “changed the feeling of the rising clergy,” this was
not done without desperate struggles on the part of the older clergy.
Wiseman, whose insight into human nature was of the scantiest, chose
as his coadjutor, with the right of succession, Bishop Errington.
Errington belonged to the older school. The Chapter of Westminster
agreed with him. Accordingly Wiseman found himself opposed by the
Chapter, with the Coadjutor-Bishop as their leader. The contest
which followed was, says Wilfred Ward, “the turning point in the
controversy between the conservative policy and that of the new
Ultramontanism.”[167] It was no merely personal struggle, but a
struggle of principles. On the other side, Wiseman pushed forward
Manning, whom the Pope sent from Rome and placed as Provost over the
entire Chapter of Westminster.
[167] _Life of Wiseman_, ii. p. 321.
Into the details of the struggle we cannot go. But Errington and
Manning fought for opposing principles. Manning, says Wilfred Ward,
with his “fixed ideas and firm determination.”[168] As to Errington:
“iron determination and persistency were stamped on face and figure.”
“Both men of strong will with utterly opposite ideals and aims.”[169]
Errington had none of the tactful discretion of the diplomatist in
his constitution, and was no match for the subtlety of Manning. And
ultimately, on Wiseman’s appeal to Rome, Errington was removed by the
Pope from the position of Coadjutor, and lost his right of succession
to the Archbishopric of Westminster. The main charge against him was
that he was anti-Roman in sympathies.[170] Great was the rejoicing
among the Ultramontanes at this victory. The succession of Bishop
Errington was their greatest fear.
[168] _Ibid._ ii. p. 265.
[169] _Ibid._ p. 254.
[170] _Ibid._ p. 332.
“I cannot conceive a greater misfortune,” wrote a high authority from
Rome to Cardinal Wiseman, “than your being followed by Dr Errington,
who, I feel certain, if he ever become Archbishop of Westminster,
will do all he can to undo what has been done, and will be a
constant source of annoyance to the Holy See.”[171]
[171] _Life of Wiseman_, p. 331.
Father Faber wrote in similar strains:--
“If [Dr Errington] returns to Westminster as Archbishop, the Holy See
will have to reckon that it will take fifty, if not a hundred, years
to restore England to the pitch of Ultramontanism which she has now
reached.”[172]
[172] _Ibid._ p. 370.
On Wiseman’s death the older Catholic party made one more struggle for
supremacy. The Chapter of Westminster, notwithstanding that Manning
presided, longed for a Bishop of the older school. Accordingly, their
then selected candidates were Bishop Errington, Bishop Grant, and
Bishop Clifford. The insertion of Errington’s name was considered by
the Pope as a personal insult. In the interests of their own aims it
was certainly unwise; for it rendered the Pope disinclined to listen to
any of the Chapter’s suggestions.[173] As for Bishop Clifford, Manning
denounced him in a private letter to Rome as a worldly Catholic, _i.e._
opposed to the Ultramontanes; and he sided against Infallibility
afterwards in the Vatican Council. As for Bishop Grant, Manning wrote:--
[173] _Life of Manning_, ii. p. 206.
“I cannot for a moment even fear that the Holy See would accept any
one of these names. I wish,” added Manning, conscious of the critical
nature of the struggle for the future of Ultramontanism in England,
“I wish that the Holy Father would reserve the Archbishopric in
perpetuity to the Holy See. For it is perfectly certain that whoever
comes, it is a question of a change of policy. It is Tories out and
Whigs in, with all the consequences.”[174]
[174] _Ibid._
Manning’s prophetic instinct proved correct. Pius IX. paused,
reflected, took advice, and ultimately, not however without
considerable misgivings, set aside all three of the Chapter’s
nominations, and on his own authority appointed Manning.[175] Now
Manning led the English Ultramontanes in the Council of the Vatican.
[175] 1865.
But the task of Romanising the English Catholics was no easy thing. The
_literature_ of the Roman Communion in England and Ireland during the
eighteenth and early nineteenth century shows how thoroughly saturated
they were with Catholic as contrasted with Ultramontane convictions.
It is difficult to obtain that literature in its genuine and original
form to-day; for of course all works reprinted since 1870 have been
altered into conformity with Vatican ideas. In some cases the process
of reducing to conformity was begun at an earlier date. It is therefore
with works printed before 1870 that we are now concerned.
1. For example, in the well-known Roman manual of theology by
Berrington and Kirk, entitled the _Faith of Catholics_, confirmed
by Scripture, and attested by the Fathers of the first five
centuries--with St Vincent’s maxim on the title-page (“that which has
been believed always everywhere,” etc.)--we find the following teaching
on Infallibility:--
“It is no article of Catholic Faith to believe that the Pope is
himself infallible, separated from the Church, even in expounding the
Faith: by consequence, Papal definitions or decrees, in whatever form
pronounced, taken exclusively from a General Council or acceptance
of the Church, oblige no one under pain of heresy to an interior
assent.”[176]
[176] Page 165.
This teaching, found in the edition of 1830, now disappears.
2. Delahogue was Professor in Dublin where his theological works
were published in several volumes in 1829. The type of instruction
then given in an Irish seminary to students of Roman theology may be
understood from the fact that Delahogue asserts that the doctrine that
the Roman Pontiff, even when he speaks _ex cathedra_, is possessed of
the gift of inerrancy or is superior to General Councils may be denied
without loss of faith or risk of heresy or schism.
To justify this position appeal is made among others to Cardinal Perron
who, although himself a supporter of the doctrine of papal inerrancy,
assured King James I. that the question was not a hindrance to
Ecclesiastical Reunion; since whichever view his Majesty might adopt he
would none the less on either side be recognised as Catholic.
Delahogue appealed also to the fact that no reference to Papal
Infallibility occurs in the Creed of Pius IV. Bossuet’s famous
exposition affirmed that matters disputed in the schools of theology,
and invidiously brought forward by Calvinistic doctors, were no part of
the Catholic Faith; and Bossuet’s Exposition was endorsed by a brief
of Innocent XI. Delahogue also pointed out that inferences from the
figurative comparison of the relation between the Pope and the Church
to that between the human head and body must be drawn with discretion.
The effect of decapitation upon the human body differs from that of
the death of a Pope upon the Church. Indeed the latter is essentially
the same in spite of a long interregnum, or a schism, or a doubtful
succession of forty years. Similarly, it does not follow that an _ex
cathedra_ fallacious utterance would be the Church’s ruin.
3. De Lisle, who was received into the Roman Communion at the age of
fifteen, in 1825, was moulded in the Roman convictions as held in
England at that date. Forty years later he recorded his faith in the
following words:--
“We are far from claiming for the Papacy any separate Infallibility
distinct from that which all Catholics are bound to believe in, as
the prerogative of the _Universal Church_. Those who make so novel
a claim must reconcile it with the grave facts of ecclesiastical
history.... And we believe that with those facts undenied and not
disproved it would be impossible for the Church to define any such
theories to be articles of faith.”[177]
[177] Ambrose Lisle Phillipps, _Union Review_, May 1866, p. 95.
The following year De Lisle repeated his convictions on Infallibility
in a letter to Father Ryder, afterwards Superior of the Birmingham
Oratory.
“I will tell you my own belief, as to that attribute of Holy Church,
which a learned Bishop pronounced accurate and orthodox. First of
all, I believe Infallibility to be a _conjunctive_ and _collective_
attribute of the _whole Catholic Church_ according to the words of
Holy Church in her Collect, ‘God by whose Spirit the whole body
of the Church is governed and sanctified.’ In other words, the
infallible assistance of the Holy Spirit is given to the whole Church
in its collective capacity, to the Laity as well as the Clergy. To
the latter especially in their collective capacity as the teachers.
To the former as the recipients of that teaching, giving them an
instinctive apprehension of what is or is not in conformity with the
traditional teaching of the Church. Now in this view of the matter,
no one, whether pastor or layman, has any _separate personal_ gift of
the infallible guidance of the Holy Spirit, but it is given to all
collectively in order to enable them _safely to keep_ and _rightly
to apprehend_ the Deposit of Faith.... Now it follows from my view
that all Catholics--from the Pope downwards to the meanest baptized
layman--all are under the infallible guidance of the Holy Spirit,
as long as all, in their respective positions, whether as Teachers
or Believers, are acting and believing according to the unchangeable
Deposit, for the preservation and right understanding of which the
power of _binding and loosing_ and of _feeding_ the whole flock has
been conferred upon the supreme Pastor.”[178]
[178] 1867. De Lisle, _Life_, ii. pp. 36, 37.
4. Milner’s _End of Religious Controversy_ was written to explain the
Roman tenets to Protestants and to remove misapprehensions.[179]
[179] Milner, _End of Religious Controversy_, ed. 2, 1819, p. 150.
“When any fresh controversy arises in the Church, the fundamental
maxim of the Bishops and Popes to whom it belongs to decide upon
it, is, not to consult their own private opinion or interpretation
of Scripture but to enquire _what is and ever has been the doctrine
of the Church_ concerning it. Hence their cry is and ever has been
on such occasions, as well in her Councils as out of them: _So we
have received; so the Universal Church believes: let there be no new
doctrine; none but what has been delivered down to us by Tradition_.
The Infallibility, then, of our Church is not a power of telling
all things past, present, and to come, such as Pagans ascribed to
their oracles; but merely the aid of God’s Holy Spirit to enable
her truly to decide what her faith is and has ever been, in such
articles as have been made known to her by Scripture and tradition.
This definition furnishes answer to divers other objections and
questions.... The Church does not decide the controversy concerning
the Conception of the Blessed Virgin, and several other disputed
points, because she sees nothing absolutely clear and certain
concerning them, either in the written or the unwritten word, and
therefore leaves her children to form their own opinions concerning
them. Finally his Lordship, with other controversialists, objects
against the Infallibility of the Catholic Church, that its advocates
are not agreed where to lodge this prerogative, some ascribing it to
the Pope, others to a General Council, or to the Bishops dispersed
throughout the Church. True, schoolmen discuss some such points; but
let me ask his Lordship whether he finds any Catholic who denies or
doubts that a General Council, with the Pope at its head, or that the
Pope himself, issuing a doctrinal decision which is received by the
great body of Catholic Bishops, is secure from error? Most certainly
not, and hence he may gather where all Catholics agree in lodging
Infallibility.”
Milner’s view of Catholicism is that if we would know what is of faith,
we must ask what is and ever has been the doctrine of the Church. A
dogma cannot be something new. It must be what has been universally
believed from the beginning. Tried by this test, he finds that the
Immaculate Conception is an opinion, not a doctrine of the Church;
that individuals are free to form their own opinion concerning it,
because there was nothing absolutely clear and certain about it either
in the written or the unwritten word; that Papal Infallibility was a
matter of scholastic discussion, a theory of theologians, but that the
Infallibility of the Church was a matter which no Catholic doubted.
5. Gallitzin’s rejection of Papal Infallibility is even more emphatic.
“Although I have plainly told the Protestant minister that the
Infallibility of the Pope is no part of the Catholic Creed, a mere
opinion of some divines, an article nowhere to be found in our
professions of faith, in our creeds, in our catechisms, etc., yet
the Protestant minister most ungenerously and uncandidly brings it
forward, over and over again, as an article of the Catholic faith;
and takes his opportunity from this forgery of his own to abuse the
Catholic Church.”[180]
[180] Gallitzin, _Defence of Catholic Principles_. See _Papal
Infallibility_, by a Roman Catholic layman, 1876, p. 16.
6. Another exposition of the Roman faith for English-speaking people
is the famous book called _Keenan’s Catechism_. It is entitled
_Controversial Catechism, or Protestantism Refuted and Catholicism
Established_. The edition of 1860 is described as the third edition,
and in its seventeenth thousand. It bears the imprimatur of four Roman
Bishops, two of them being Vicars Apostolic. In these approbations we
are assured that “the sincere searcher after truth will here find a
lucid path opened to conduct him to its sanctuary; while the believer
will be hereby instructed and confirmed in his faith.” From 1846 to
1860 it was being largely circulated throughout England, Scotland, and
Ireland.
The book contains the following question and answer:--
“(_Q._) Must not Catholics believe the Pope in himself to be
infallible?
(_A._) This is a Protestant invention: it is no article of the
Catholic faith: no decision of his can oblige under pain of heresy,
unless it be received and enforced by the teaching body, that is by
the bishops of the Church.”
_Keenan’s Catechism_ has since 1870 appeared with alterations. The new
edition is, as the preface justly remarks, “more than a mere reprint.”
As issued in 1896, it rightly styles itself a “revised edition.” The
question and answer just quoted have of course now disappeared. They
are replaced by a series of ten enquiries, with answers giving exactly
the contrary doctrine. The first of these runs as follows:--
“(_Q._) What do Catholics believe concerning the Infallibility of the
Pope?
(_A._) That the visible Head of the Church on earth received
from Christ the same prerogative of Infallibility which we have
shown above to be necessary to and belong to the Church by divine
institution.”[181]
[181] Page 111.
Thus what was formerly denounced as a Protestant invention is now
affirmed as a Catholic truth.
The earlier revisers of _Keenan’s Catechism_ contented themselves with
quiet substitution of the new doctrine for the old without further
explanation. But the later revisers have felt that something more
was necessary to justify the change. Accordingly they inserted the
following:--
“(_Q._) But some Catholics before the Vatican Council denied the
Infallibility of the Pope, which was also formerly impugned in this
very Catechism.
(_A._) Yes; but they did so under the usual reservation--‘in so far
as they then could grasp the mind of the Church, and subject to her
future definitions’--thus _implicitly_ accepting the dogma; had they
been prepared to maintain their own opinion contumaciously in such
case they would have been Catholics only in name.”
That is to say, that teaching endorsed by Catholic Bishops is delivered
under the reservation that the opposite may be true; that this is the
usual reservation, applicable therefore to all Episcopal teaching;
that no certainty exists in the Roman Communion whether instruction
now being given as Catholic may not be upset and reversed by some
future definition; (in which case what is its authoritative value
and its relation to truth?) and that the Roman Bishops who endorsed
Keenan’s first edition implicitly accepted the dogma which they
explicitly denied. I am most anxious not to exaggerate. But this
seems an intellectual and a moral confusion. There is something wrong
with a cause which requires such a defence. But this is not all. For
the revised edition goes on to enquire, “Were there any other dogmas
defined by the Church which had been controverted before decision?”
This is answered in the affirmative. “Nearly every definition of dogma
by the Church had been preceded by a period of controversy, in which
theologians ranked themselves on different sides.” Then the question is
asked:--
“(_Q._) Can you name any Controversies on fundamental dogma on
which the Church pronounced in the same way as she did on Papal
Infallibility at the Vatican Council?
(_A._) Yes. The Divinity of Christ was not formally defined till the
first Council of Nicæa (325).”
Some other instances having been given, we then reach the Question--
“(_Q._) What do you conclude from these observations?
(_A._) That the definition of the Infallibility of the Pope as a
dogma of primitive Christian Revelation has historically run a course
similar to the definition of many other fundamental articles of the
Catholic Faith.”
The implications of this assertion are worth considering. A parallel
is drawn between the attitude of Catholics towards the two doctrines
of Papal Infallibility and of the Divinity of Jesus Christ. They have
historically, it is said, run a similar course. Now we ask just this:
Were those Bishops who endorsed _Keenan’s Catechism_ Catholics or not?
There is only one possible reply: Yes, they were. They lived and died
in the Communion of the Roman Church. It was then possible to be a
Catholic before 1870 and yet deny this doctrine of Papal Infallibility.
But was it ever possible to be a Catholic while denying the other
doctrine, the Divinity of Jesus Christ? There is only one answer that
can be given. Assuredly it was not. Explicit denial of the Divinity
of our Lord must indisputably _ipso facto_ exclude from Catholicity,
and must have had this effect at any stage in the development of
Christendom. Consequently the parallel between the course which these
two doctrines have historically pursued is simply misleading and
untrue. Indeed the assertion grievously misrepresents the evidence. A
real parallel would require that as the doctrine of Papal Infallibility
was disputed by Roman Catholics for many hundreds of years, and openly
described as a mere opinion of the Schools which might be taken or left
without detriment to Catholicity--indeed controversially deprecated
as an invention of opponents, ungenerously and uncandidly ascribed
to the Catholic Church, while its acceptance and rejection were both
tolerated by the Church itself--similar experience awaited the doctrine
of the Divinity of Christ. But not one iota of this holds good with
the Divinity of Christ. Our Lord’s Divinity was never disputed by
Catholics, never openly described as a mere opinion of the schools; its
rejection never was or could be tolerated by the Church for a single
hour. No doubt there were imperfect expressions in the ante-Nicene
period, but there was no silence on this doctrine in the primitive
Church. The Arian was not an implicit Catholic, inwardly prepared to
accept what he outwardly denied. Nor would he have been grateful for
this explanation of his attitude. He never was a Catholic at all.
Moreover, if the character of the two doctrines be considered, it
is inevitable to ask whether the doctrine of Papal Infallibility is
fundamental in the Christian Faith. If it be fundamental after the
Church has defined it, it was fundamental before the definition. A
doctrine does not become fundamental through the Church’s definition,
but through its own intrinsic character. It therefore remains
unaccounted for that a fundamental of the Christian Faith should be
described as a Protestant invention, and such description sanctioned by
Catholic Bishops, and tolerated by Rome.
It is really incredible that a critically or historically trained
intellect could venture on so daring and unhistoric a parallel. Such
uncritical defence not only fails to secure its design, but suggests
an insecurity in the Church’s belief in the Divinity of her Lord. Such
defence is necessitated by the school which is constrained to condemn
what it previously taught, and to teach what it once condemned; but the
necessity for such defence betrays the character of the doctrine which
requires it.
The historical evidence, which might be considerably increased, shows
that English Romanists in general did not hold Papal Infallibility
even as a private opinion; that, on the contrary, they maintained
principles by which that opinion is excluded; that they believed in
the Infallibility of the Church, but placed that Infallibility in the
Collective Episcopate whether assembled or dispersed.
7. Even in the great College of Maynooth itself an Irish Roman Catholic
Professor could publish as late as 1861 such words as these:--
“That the Universal Church is infallible in its belief and profession
of faith, that the body of pastors is infallible in teaching, are
two dogmas of Catholic faith. That the Infallibility of the Chief
Pontiff is a revealed truth, and therefore definable, as of Catholic
faith, is to me personally perfectly clear. Nevertheless, since it
belongs to the Church alone to determine what is essential to belief,
and since that dogma has never yet been in that manner proposed to
be believed, they who genuinely hold the contrary are by no means or
only in the least degree (unless indeed some other ground be shown)
to be considered alien from the Catholic Faith.”[182]
[182] Murray, _Tractatus de Ecclesia Christ._ ii. (1), p. 171.
Here we have striking indications of a change. The Ultramontane
influence is recognised, although not submitted to; Papal Infallibility
is acknowledged as a private opinion of the teacher, but the contrary
opinion is, with reserve, recognised to be legitimate. This utterance
from Maynooth becomes more intelligible when it is remembered that
Cardinal Cullen, trained in Rome and nominated Primate of Ireland by
Pius IX., was now presiding over that Communion in Dublin. Cullen, says
Ollivier, responded admirably to the confidence which Pius IX. placed
in him.[183]
[183] Ollivier, _L’Eglise et L’Etat_, ii. p. 9.
“The Romanised Cullen,” says another, “whom the Pope forced as
Primate on the Irish Bishops, with the same view as he imposed
Manning on the English Bishops, is of course an Infallibilist.”[184]
[184] _Quirinus_, p. 290.
_Journalism_ in England took no unimportant part in the struggle
between Catholic and Ultramontane. That most paradoxical extremist, the
convert Ward, was appointed by Wiseman in 1862 editor of the _Dublin
Review_.[185] Ward’s ideal in his Roman days was spiritual dictatorship
of the most absolute character.[186] He said he wanted pontifical
decrees every morning for breakfast with his newspaper. And Manning
encouraged him. Manning shut his eyes to Ward’s exaggerations and
rejoiced in his uncompromising tone.
[185] Thureau Dangin, ii. p. 336.
[186] _Ibid._ p. 343.
“What we need,” he wrote, “is incisive assertion of the loftiest
truths. I am persuaded that boldness is prudence, and that our danger
lies in half truths.”[187]
[187] _Ibid._
So blessed and sanctioned, Ward went straight ahead. The Ultramontanism
of the _Dublin Review_ must have been gall and bitterness to the
old-fashioned English Romanist.
While Ward and the _Dublin Review_, supported by Manning, pushed
papal absolutism to the furthest extremes, Lord Acton and the series
of journals with which he was connected, such as the _Rambler_ and
the short-lived but brilliant _Home and Foreign Review_, recalled the
Catholic mind to the facts of History. Abbot Gasquet’s estimate of the
_Dublin Review_ and the _Rambler_ is significant.
“The _Dublin Review_ and the _Rambler_ were conducted upon lines
wholly divergent. In historical matters the policy of the _Dublin
Review_ appears to have been to avoid as far as possible facing
unpleasant facts in the past, and to explain away, if it could not
directly deny, the existence of blots in the ecclesiastical annals of
the older centuries. The _Rambler_, on the other hand, held the view
that the Church had nothing to lose and much to gain by meeting facts
as they were.”[188]
[188] Gasquet, _Lord Acton and his Circle_, p. xxxix.
The refusal to face the facts, the resolve to manipulate them in
the interests of edification, was characteristic of an extensive
controversial school of which the _Dublin Review_ was a vigorous and
extreme exponent. It was done deliberately, on principle, prompted by
a profound distrust of history. Lord Acton’s criticisms[189] on this
uncritical method of advancing truth are inimitable.
[189] “Ultramontanism,” _Home and Foreign Review_, iii. p. 173, 1863.
“A particular suspicion rested on history, because, as the study
of facts, it was less amenable to authority and less controlled by
interest than philosophical speculation. In consequence partly of the
denial of historical certainty, and partly of the fear of it, the
historical study of dogma in its original sources was abandoned, and
the dialectical systematic treatment preferred.”[190]
As to the treatment of History: “First, it was held, the interests
of religion, which are opposed to the study of history, require that
precautions should be taken to make it innocuous where it cannot be
quite suppressed. If it is lawful to conceal facts or statements, it
is equally right to take out their sting when they must be brought
forward. It is not truth, but error, which is suppressed by this
process, the object of which is to prevent a false impression being
made on the minds of men. For the effect of those facts or statements
is to prejudice men against the Church, and to lead them to false
conclusions concerning her nature. Whatever tends to weaken this
adverse impression contributes really to baffle a falsehood and
sustain the cause of truth. The statement, however true in its own
subordinate place, will only seem to mislead in a higher order of
truth, where the consequences may be fatal to the conscience and
happiness of those who hear it without any qualification. Words,
moreover, often convey to the uninstructed mind ideas contrary to
their real significance, and the interpretation of facts is yet
more delusive.... For the object is not the discovery of objective
truth, but the production of a right belief in a particular mind....
It is the duty of the son to cover the shame of his father; and the
Catholic owes it to the Church to defend her against every adverse
fact as he would defend the honour of his mother. He will not coldly
examine the value of testimony, or concede any point because it
is hard to meet, or assist with unbiassed mind in the discovery
of truth before he learns what its bearing may be. Assured that
nothing injurious to the Church can be true, he will combat whatever
bears an unfavourable semblance with every attainable artifice and
weapon.”[191]
[190] “Ultramontanism,” _Home and Foreign Review_, p. 175.
[191] _Ibid._ p. 177.
An Anglican writer has given us a terse expression of the same idea:
The Deity, we are told, cannot alter the past. But the ecclesiastical
historian can and does.[192]
[192] Inge, _Truth and Falsehood in Religion_, p. 41.
With all the instinct of self-preservation, the Ultramontane mistrusted
and resented the historical School. Cardinal Wiseman wrote in a
Pastoral[193] a severe denunciation of the journal which Acton edited.
To the Cardinal, the _Home and Foreign Review_ seemed characterised by
“the absence for years of all reserve and reverence in its treatment of
persons or of things deemed sacred.” He wrote with great severity on
what appeared to him its “habitual preference of uncatholic to Catholic
instincts, tendencies, and motives.”
[193] Cf. Bishop Ullathorne. Letter on the _Rambler_, 1862, p. 3.
Acton[194] admitted in his reply that “a very formidable mass of
ecclesiastical authority and popular feeling was united against
certain principles or opinions which, whether rightly or wrongly,
are attributed to us.” He then proceeded to give an account of the
principles which ought to govern the attitude of Catholics towards
modern discoveries.
[194] Acton, _History of Freedom_, p. 446.
“A political law or a scientific truth may be perilous to the
morals or the faith of individuals, but it cannot on this ground be
resisted by the Church. It may at times be a duty of the State to
protect freedom of conscience, yet this freedom may be a temptation
to apostasy. A discovery may be made in science which will shake the
faith of thousands, yet religion cannot refute it or object to it.
The difference in this respect between a true and a false religion
is, that one judges all things by the standard of their truth, the
other by the touchstone of its own interests.”[195]
[195] _Ibid._ p. 449.
And this led Acton to pronounce a severe criticism on methods of
defence prevalent in the Roman Catholic Church of the day. He said that
in reaction from the unscrupulous attacks of the eighteenth century, a
school of apologists had arisen dominated by the opinion that nothing
said against the Church could be true. Their only object was defence.
“They were often careless in statement, rhetorical and illogical in
argument, too positive to be critical and too confident to be precise.”
“In this school,” he continues, “the present generation of Catholics
was educated.” And he complains that “the very qualities which we
condemn in our opponents, as the natural defences of error, and the
significant emblems of a bad cause, came to taint both our literature
and our policy.” Meanwhile, learning had passed on beyond the vision of
such apologists, and the apologists have, so far as effectiveness is
concerned, collapsed before it.
“Investigations have become so impersonal, so colourless, so free
from the prepossessions which distort truth, from predetermined aims
and foregone conclusions, that their results can only be met by
investigations in which the same methods are yet more completely and
conscientiously applied.”[196]
[196] Acton, _History of Freedom_, p. 452.
Resort to suppressive methods is, Acton was profoundly persuaded,
suicidal as well as immoral. It argues either a timid faith which
fears the light, or a false morality which would do evil that good
might come. “How often have Catholics involved themselves in hopeless
contradiction, sacrificed principle to opportunity, adapted their
theories to their interest, and staggered the world’s reliance on their
sincerity by subterfuges which entangle the Church in the shifting
sands of party warfare, instead of establishing her cause on the solid
rock of principles!”[197]
[197] Acton, _History of Freedom_, p. 454.
This noble appeal was unfortunately denounced by Bishop Ullathorne
of Birmingham in a Pastoral wholly devoted to its refutation. What
particularly disturbed the Bishop’s mind was the distinction which
Acton drew between a true and a false religion: that one judged all
things by the standard of their truth, the other by the touchstone of
its own interests. It appeared to Ullathorne[198] that
[198] _Pastoral_ (1862), p. 9.
“to say that the Church cannot refute or object to a discovery which
will shake the faith of thousands; meaning thereby to deny her right
to examine that discovery after her own methods, and by the union of
science with faith in her theology, to ascertain whether and how far
that discovery be true, ... is to deny to the Church her mission to
prove all things, and to hold fast that which is good. It is to deny
her the mission of teaching to avoid oppositions of science falsely
so called, and of protecting those thousands of souls from having
their faith shaken by the erroneous deductions which men of science
are too apt to draw from those real discoveries which can never
conflict with faith.”
Thus was Acton misunderstood. And Bishop Ullathorne concluded
by condemning the journal as “containing propositions which are
respectively subversive of the faith, heretical, approaching to heresy,
erroneous, derogatory to the teaching of the Church, and offensive to
pious ears.”[199]
[199] _Ibid._ p. 42. A.D. 1862.
Notwithstanding this severe rebuke Acton continued to persevere.
The suppression of Lord Acton’s brilliant but short-lived _Home and
Foreign Review_ illustrates the restraints imposed upon an independent
historian by the necessity of submission to the opinions of Roman
Congregations, such as that of the Index. It was in the year 1863, when
his periodical was some four years old, that Pius IX. issued a Brief to
the Archbishop of Munich in which he affirmed that
“it is not enough for learned Catholics to receive and venerate
the dogmas of the Church, but there is also need that they should
submit themselves to the doctrinal decisions of the pontifical
congregations.”
This Papal Brief made no reference to Lord Acton or to the _Home and
Foreign Review_, but it vitally affected the principles upon which
that periodical had been throughout its short existence of four years
conducted. For its principles were these:--
“To reconcile freedom of enquiry with implicit faith, and to
discountenance what is untenable and unreal, without forgetting the
tenderness due to the weak, or the reverence rightly claimed for
what is sacred. Submitting without reserve to infallible authority,
it will encourage a habit of manly investigation on subjects of
scientific interest.”
This means a claim for freedom in the province of opinion, and a
right to the fearless assertion of historic truth. But how was it
possible to reconcile that freedom with the literary decisions of
such a Congregation as that of the Index? Consequently Lord Acton
wrote a signed article in the _Review_, bearing the significant title,
“Conflicts with Rome.” It is written with admirable self-command and
dignity, with the frankest confession of loyalty to truth from whatever
sources derived, and under a solemn sense of the impossibility of
reconciling the encroachment of Roman Authority with the independence
essential to historic science. In a powerful sketch of the case
of Lamennais, he shows how the extreme assertion of unlimited
authority easily led by reaction to total loss of faith; and how the
disparagement of human reason in the supposed interests of authority
really undermines the foundation upon which all things human--that
authority itself included--must necessarily rest. On the other side he
draws a striking picture of the general attitude of Roman authority
toward modern thought. He says, that in dealing with literature--
“the paramount consideration of Rome had been the fear of scandal.
Historical investigations, if they offered perilous occasion to
unprepared and unstable minds, were suppressed”--upon which he
remarks that “the true limits of legitimate authority are one thing,
and the area which authority may find it expedient to attempt to
occupy, is another. The interests of the Church are not necessarily
identical with those of the ecclesiastical government. One of the
great instruments for preventing historical scrutiny had long been
the Index of Prohibited Books, which was accordingly directed, not
against falsehood only, but particularly against certain departments
of truth. Through it an effort had been made to keep the knowledge
of ecclesiastical history from the faithful, and to give currency
to a fabulous and fictitious picture of the progress and action of
the Church. The means would have been found quite inadequate to the
end, if it had not been for the fact that, while society was absorbed
by controversy, knowledge was only valued so far as it served a
controversial purpose. Every party in those days virtually had its
own prohibitive Index, to brand all inconvenient truths with the note
of falsehood. No party cared for knowledge that could not be made
available for argument.”
This suppression of uncongenial fact was less possible in the German
Universities, where the Roman Catholic teacher was placed amidst
perfect freedom of enquiry, and where “the system of secrecy or
accommodation was rendered impossible by the competition of knowledge
in which the most thorough exposition of the truth was sure of the
victory.” The teacher in this environment “was obliged often to draw
attention to books lacking the Catholic spirit but indispensable to the
deeper student.” The condition of things in Italy and in Germany was
widely different.
“While in Rome it was still held that the truths of Science need not
be told if, in the judgment of Roman theologians, they were of a
nature to offend faith, in Germany Catholics vied with Protestants in
publishing matter without being diverted by the consideration whether
it might serve or injure their cause in controversy, or whether it
was adverse or favourable to the views which it was the object of the
Index to protect.”
Yet for a while Rome had tolerated many things. “Publications were
suffered to pass unnoted in Germany, which would have been immediately
censured if they had come forth beyond the Alps or the Rhine.” German
philosophers were indeed denounced at Rome, but German historians
escaped censure. The reason was, according to Lord Acton, plain:--
“The philosopher cannot claim the same exemption as the historian.
God’s handwriting exists in history independently of the Church, and
no ecclesiastical exigence can alter a fact. The divine lesson has
been read, and it is the historian’s duty to copy it faithfully and
without ulterior views.”
But this toleration of independence in the realm of facts was now
abruptly terminated by authority. The Pope’s letter to the Archbishop
of Munich affirmed the view that Catholic writers are not bound only
by those decisions of the Infallible Church which regard articles of
faith. They must also submit to the theological decisions of the Roman
congregations, and to the opinions which are commonly received in
the schools; and it is wrong, though not heretical, to reject those
decisions or opinions.
In a word, therefore, the Brief affirms that the common opinions and
explanations of Catholic divines ought not to yield to the progress of
secular science, and that the course of theological knowledge ought
to be controlled by the decrees of the Index. Confronted with this
Declaration of Authority, Lord Acton professed himself resolved “to
interpret the words as they were really meant, and not to elude their
consequence by subtle distinctions, to profess adoption of maxims which
no man who holds the principles of the _Review_ can accept in their
intended signification.” In this Brief--“It is the design of the Holy
See not, of course, to deny the distinction between dogma and opinion,
... but to reduce the practical recognition of it among Catholics to
the smallest possible limits.”
Consequently, the question arose, what future was possible for the
_Home and Foreign Review_? Continued existence on unaltered principles
meant reiteration of principles denounced at Rome.
“The periodical reiteration of rejected propositions would amount
to insult and defiance, and would probably provoke more definite
measures; and thus the result would be to commit authority yet more
irrevocably to an opinion which might otherwise take no deep root,
and might yield ultimately to the influence of time.”
That this change of mind on the part of authority would be anything
else than the far-off outcome of a process indefinitely slow, Lord
Acton did not for a moment suppose. He acknowledged that the line taken
by Pius IX. expressed the general sentiment of the large majority of
Catholics of the age. And in Lord Acton’s view of the case, if new
truth is to gain recognition from authority, it
“must first pervade the members in order that it may reach the head.
While the general sentiment of Catholics is unaltered, the course
of the Holy See remains unaltered too. As soon as that sentiment
is modified, Rome sympathises with the change. The ecclesiastical
government, based upon the public opinion of the Church, and acting
through it, cannot separate itself from the mass of the faithful, and
keep pace with the progress of the instructed minority. It follows
slowly and warily, and sometimes begins by resisting and denouncing
what in the end it thoroughly adopts.... The slow, silent, indirect
action of public opinion bears the Holy See along, without any
demoralising conflict or dishonourable capitulation. This action it
belongs essentially to the graver scientific literature to direct.”
Meantime, Lord Acton’s lot is cast in the period when truth is resisted
and denounced. Hitherto forbearance has been extended to the minority.
But this is the case no longer. “The adversaries of the Roman theory
have been challenged with the summons to submit.”
“In these circumstances, there are two courses which it is impossible
to take. It would be wrong to abandon principles which have been well
considered and are sincerely held, and it would also be wrong to
assail the authority which contradicts them. The principles have not
ceased to be true, nor the authority to be legitimate, because the
two are in contradiction.”
Accordingly, Lord Acton’s practical solution is as follows:--
“Warned, therefore, by the language of the Brief, I will not provoke
ecclesiastical authority to a more explicit repudiation of doctrines
which are necessary to secure its influence upon the advance of
modern science.... I will sacrifice the existence of the _Review_
to the defence of its principles, in order that I may continue the
obedience which is due to legitimate ecclesiastical authority with
an equally conscientious maintenance of the rightful and necessary
liberty of thought.”
From that date accordingly the _Home and Foreign Review_ ceased to
exist. The expiration of a periodical may be an exceedingly small
incident in literary activity, but the principles involved in this
incident are of primary importance. Lord Acton’s indomitable belief in
the ultimate prevalence of historical truth, when the present tyranny
of ignorance should be overpast, is worthy of all regard. The dignified
surrender, coupled with frank reassertion of unaltered conviction, is
most significant. He bows to an authority which has transgressed its
limits, and which rejects to-day what it must of necessity at length
believe. His theory that the truth must pervade and possess the members
in order that it may reach the head, must have sounded strangely in
Italian ears. A silence explicitly self-imposed, lest authority,
if further provoked, should commit itself irrevocably to positions
fatal to its own best interests, is impressive and pathetic; but
certainly it suggests thoughts on the limits of authority incompatible
with Ultramontane assumptions. While this subsiding into silence
would prevent the irretrievable mischief of imprudent authoritative
declarations, it would, at the same time, delay the enlightenment of
the ignorant majority, and so delay the enlightenment of the head.
Worse still, such silence, if widespread, must disable the Church from
meeting the needs of modern thought, and from coping with, still more
from guiding, the educated world. Wherever the system of secrecy and
accommodation is rendered impossible, by the competition of knowledge
in which the most thorough exposition of the truth is sure of the
victory, there such methods as those advocated in the Brief, or
practised in submission to its dictation, must be fatal to the Church’s
wider influence. We may reverence the individual self-suppression, but
nothing can be more profoundly discouraging than the fatal conflict of
authority with historic truth. Even Lord Acton’s faith could only hope
that authority might ultimately acknowledge the principles upon whose
suppression it was for the present actively engaged. Thus the Church,
in his view, was committed to a fruitless conflict with truths to which
it must at last surrender. It was destined evermore to oppose all truth
for which the ignorance of the majority precluded recognition; to
silence its prophets and hereafter adorn their sepulchres; to denounce
as injurious what it would one day embrace as true; if, indeed, the
slowly increasing enlightenment of the general body of the devout shall
ultimately remove the prejudices of the head. Certainly the prospect
was scarcely one to cheer. It shows impressively the tremendous strain
which the encroachment of authority over the province of opinion placed
upon the faith of its noblest sons.
Bishop Ullathorne viewed the successive collapse of Acton’s journals
with a natural satisfaction.
“The unsound taint,” he wrote, “was brought to England by certain
young laymen, pupils of Dr Döllinger or others associated with him,
and exhibited itself in the later numbers of the _Rambler_ after it
passed into their hands, in the _Home and Foreign Review_, the _North
British Review_, and the _Chronicle_. But the Catholics of this
country repelled the poison, and these publications dropped rapidly
one after another into their grave.”[200]
[200] _Expostulation_, p. 5.
Meanwhile, on the other side, Ward’s ambition was to demonstrate
“how extensive is the intellectual captivity imposed by God on every
loyal Catholic.”[201] And there is no possibility to doubt which of
the two schools was congenial to Roman authority. For the editor of
the _Dublin Review_ was rewarded with expressions of papal approval,
while Lord Acton’s literary ventures were one after another brought
to untimely ends.[202] But the thing that flourished, the work upon
whose eccentricities and extravagances Roman authority looked with
favour, was the Apologetic of Ward in the _Dublin Review_. Utterly
unhistorical as it assuredly was, more Ultramontane than Rome itself,
carrying recent development to unprecedented excess, and exhibiting
exactly those characteristics of wilful blindness to uncongenial
facts which roused so justly Acton’s moral indignation, Ward’s Essays
were nevertheless the approved and sanctioned type of Roman doctrine
and Roman defence offered for the edification and guidance of Roman
Catholics in this land. There is something exceedingly tragic in the
suppression of Acton’s plea for sincerity and moral rectitude, coupled
with the encouragement given to the reckless and painfully superficial
utterances of the _Dublin Review_.
[201] _Essays on the Church’s Doctrinal Authority_, pp. 20, 34.
[202] Cf. _Church Times_, 26th July 1907.
The English Romanists as a body were scared by Ward’s extravagance.
And to none were his methods more repugnant than they were to John
Henry Newman. By a singular grace, Newman escaped the convert’s
proverbial temptation--that of carrying new beliefs to all possible
extremes. He had affinities with the _Dublin Review_ and with Lord
Acton’s Journals. But he was keenly conscious of the defects of both.
He thought the one lacking in regard for authority, the other in
reverence for fact. He was very far from identifying himself with
either.
When Ward attempted to enlist Newman in his Infallibility campaign,
Newman’s characteristic sincerity did not attempt to conceal the
repugnance with which he viewed the proposal.
“As to writing a volume on the Pope’s Infallibility it never so
much as entered into my thought. I am a controversialist, not a
theologian, and I should have nothing to say about it. I have ever
thought it likely to be true, never thought it certain. I think,
too, its definition inexpedient and unlikely; but I should have no
difficulty in accepting it, were it made. And I don’t think my reason
will ever go forward or backward in the matter.”[203]
[203] 1866, Thureau Dangin, iii. p. 111; Purcell, _Manning_, ii. p. 321.
But Newman despaired of inducing his fellow Romanists to attend to
history.
“Nothing would be better,” he wrote, “than a historical review. But
who would bear it? Unless one doctored all one’s facts one would be
thought a bad Catholic. The truth is, there is a keen conflict going
on just now between two parties--one in the Church, one out of it;
and at such seasons extreme views alone are in favour, and a man who
is not extravagant is thought treacherous. I sometimes think of King
Lear’s daughters, and consider that they, after all, may be found
the truest who are in speech more measured.”[204]
[204] See _Guardian_ article, 6th June 1906, from _the Month_ of
January 1903.
Hence it was that Ward’s vehement and exaggerated Ultramontanism drew
down upon him one of the severest rebukes which Newman perhaps ever
wrote. He told Ward that it was wholly uncatholic in spirit, and was
constituting a church within the Church. Ward comically observed that
after such a letter he must take a double dose of chloral if he meant
to sleep.
Newman also wrote a reassuring letter to Pusey, expressing his belief
that there was no fear of a decree of Papal Infallibility, except in
so limited a form as practically to leave things as they were.[205]
But when the Vatican Council was already met, and the probabilities
that the dominant party might succeed in reducing to fixity what had
hitherto been a theological opinion, at the most, became more and more
convincing, Newman wrote to his Bishop in a very different and very
anxious strain:--
[205] _Life of Pusey_, iv. p. 128.
“Why should an insolent, aggressive faction be allowed to make the
heart of the just sad, whom the Lord hath not made sorrowful? I pray
those early doctors of the Church whose intercession would decide
the matter (Augustine, Ambrose, and Jerome; Athanasius, Chrysostom,
and Basil) to avert this great calamity. If it is God’s will that
the Pope’s Infallibility be defined, then it is God’s will to throw
back the times and moments of the triumph which He has destined for
His kingdom, and I shall feel that I have but to bow my head to His
inscrutable Providence.”[206]
[206] _Standard_, 7th April 1870; Salmon, _Infallibility_, p. 22;
Thureau Dangin, iii. p. 124.
This memorable sentence, the most memorable of any from the Roman
Communion in England, was written in the full confidence of privacy to
his own Diocesan, Ullathorne, Roman Bishop of Birmingham. Somehow it
came to light, and appeared in the public press. The publication, never
explained, has been called a culpable indiscretion.[207] But whatever
it be called, it assuredly represents the writer’s most profound
conviction, uttered with perfect frankness. Here, as to his Father
in Christ, he reveals his soul. Trusted and confided in as he was by
individuals on either side within the Roman body; by Ward and Faber
on the one hand, and by Lord Acton on the other; profoundly intimate
with modern thought and religious conceptions beyond the Roman pale; he
anticipates disastrous consequences to the Church, and to the world, if
the Infallibility theory be decreed.
[207] Thureau Dangin, iii. p. 124.
Bishop Ullathorne[208] would undoubtedly receive this confidence
with perfect sympathy. For, although a believer of the doctrine, he
had himself, as a student, been taught the opposite at Downside.
Indeed, his own fidelity to Ultramontane ideas was so challenged that
he thought it advisable to seek a special interview with the Pope,
and assure him, at the time of the Vatican Decrees. But, naturally,
Newman’s letter not only produced a great sensation when it appeared
in the public press; it also deepened the distrust with which the
partisans of Infallibility regarded him. We can well understand how
one who wrote with so manifest an anxiety to stand by the historic
past, and to avoid extremes, was regarded with suspicion from Rome by
pronounced and uncompromising Ultramontanes.
[208] _Autobiography_, p. 41. Cf. Purcell, _Manning_, ii. p. 439.
As always in great movements, so with the doctrine of Papal
Infallibility, much depended on commanding personalities. And no figure
in the conflict of 1870 is more conspicuous than that of Archbishop
Manning. It was not for his learning or intellectual depth or piety
that he held so remarkable a place in promoting Ultramontane opinions.
But there is no doubt that, whether outside the Council or within, he
arrested universal attention. No man was more completely identified
with the doctrine than he; and identified with it in its extremest
form. No paradox alarmed him; he shrank from no inference, however
strange. Bellarmine would have been proud of him as in many ways a
worthy successor to his own _à priori_ methods. It is impossible
to mistake the temperament which produced the two famous Pastorals
launched by Manning for the instruction of English Romanists in 1867
and 1869.
He has already, and this is very significant, formulated the doctrine
practically in the same phrases in which it appeared in the Vatican
Decree: “Declarations of the Head of the Church apart from the
Episcopate are infallible.”[209] “Judgments _ex cathedra_ are, in
their essence, judgments of the Pontiff apart from the episcopal body,
whether congregated or dispersed.”[210]
[209] _Pastoral_ (1867), p. 23.
[210] _Ibid_. (1869), p. 142.
This doctrine, he is certain, the Church has always believed and
taught. History awakens no doubts, creates no problems, to Manning’s
mind. Everywhere he contemplates, both exercised and admitted, papal
inerrancy. His theory is that the stages of the doctrine have been
three: simple belief, analysis, definition. In the first period, belief
in the Church’s and the Pope’s inerrancy pervaded all the world. Thus
he thinks that the condemnation of Pelagianism by Innocent I. (418)
was regarded as infallible from the first moment of its promulgation.
As for Honorius, there is not the slightest reason for misgivings:
“heretical he could not be.” We have his letters. They prove his
Catholicity. The papal acts of the primitive ages imply infallibility,
according to Manning, “and in almost all cases explicitly declare
it.”[211] The exercise of authority is everywhere to him Infallibility.
Thus the Archbishop presented the English Romanist with a sketch of
the first ages pervaded by a calm, unchallenged faith in the Pope’s
Infallibility.
[211] _Pastoral_ (1867), p. 40.
The second period in the doctrine’s progress is that of analysis and
contention. And here Manning pours unqualified contempt on the Gallican
view. Gallicanism was Manning’s peculiar and special abomination.
“Gallicanism,” he said, “is rationalism; that which the Gospel cast
out; that which grew up again in mediæval Christendom. Gallicanism is
no more than a transient and modern opinion which arose in France,
without warrant or antecedent, in the ancient theological schools
of the great French Church; a royal theology, as suddenly developed
and as parenthetical as the Thirty-nine Articles; affirmed only by a
small number out of the numerous Episcopate of France....
“To this may be added, that the name of Bossuet escaped censure only
out of indulgence, by reason of his good services to the Church: and
that even the lawfulness of giving absolution to those who defend the
Gallican Articles has been gravely questioned.”[212]
[212] _Ibid._ p. 41.
In Manning’s view of history, Gallicanism was a disease engendered by
the corruptions of the old French Monarchy.
The third period in the progress of Infallibility is the period of
definition. This is certain to come. It is merely a question of time.
Thus, according to Manning, the doctrine of Papal Infallibility is
no more of an innovation than the doctrine of our Lord’s Divinity at
Nicæa. It is true that he is conscious of a possible objection lurking
in suspicious minds.
“If any one shall answer that these evidences do not prove the
Infallibility of the Pope speaking _ex cathedra_, they will lose
their labour.
“I adduce them,” he continues, “to prove the immemorial and universal
practice of the Church in having recourse to the Apostolic See as the
last and certain witness and judge of the Divine tradition of faith.”
But Manning’s real interests were not in endeavours to ascertain what
history declares. The sole duty of the believer was absolute submission
to the authority of the existing Church, irrespective of past
teachings. The assumption that what is taught to-day corresponds with
what always has been, was made, and must not be challenged. Hence the
famous identification of history with heresy, for which Manning made
himself responsible. His assurance of the doctrine is so unassailable
that he can scarcely tolerate the enquiry, Is it true?
“The question is not,” he writes, “whether the doctrine be true,
which cannot be doubted; or definable, which is not open to doubt;
but whether such a definition be opportune, that is, timely and
prudent.”[213]
[213] _Pastoral_ (1867), p. 119.
Or again, more emphatically still if possible--
“With the handful of Catholics who do not believe the Infallibility
of the Vicar of Jesus Christ, speaking _ex cathedra_, we will not
now occupy ourselves. But the opinion of those who believe the
doctrine to be true, but its definition to be inopportune deserves
full and considerate examination.”
That the doctrine is opportune, said Manning, followed at once from the
fact that it was true. God has revealed it. “Can it be permitted to us
to think that what He has thought it opportune to reveal, it is not
opportune for us to declare?” If it be said that many revealed truths
are not defined, Manning answers, Yes, but “this revealed truth has
been denied.” “If the Infallibility of the visible Head of the Church
had never been denied, it might not have been necessary to define it
now.” Thus the prospect of a coming definition is held _in terrorem_
over the heads of any who do not silently acquiesce in the doctrine
being taught. Manning could scarcely ignore the fact that this denial
of Infallibility was no new thing in the Roman Church. His answer to
this is equally significant.
“We are told by objectors that the denial is far more ancient
and widespread: that only makes the definition all the more
necessary.”[214] “In England, some Catholics are stunned and
frightened by the pretentious assumption of patristic learning and
historical criticism of anonymous writers, until they doubt, or
shrink in false shame from believing a truth for which their fathers
died.”[215]
[214] _Pastoral_ (1867), p. 40.
[215] _Ibid._ p. 41.
One would like to know how this sounded to the old Catholic families
of England, to Bishops such as Errington or Clifford, to those
whose fathers had assured the English Government on oath that Papal
Infallibility formed no part of the faith of Catholics.
Manning indeed saw a host of practical reasons why the inerrancy
doctrine should be decreed: because this truth has been denied;
because, if not decreed, the error will henceforward appear to be
tolerated, or at least left in impunity; because this denial of what
Manning called “the traditional belief of the Church” was an organised
opposition to the prerogatives of the Holy See; “because it is needed
to place the Pontifical Acts of the last 300 years, both in declaring
the truth, as in the dogma of the Immaculate Conception, and in
condemning errors, as in the long series of propositions condemned in
... Jansen and others, beyond cavil or question”; because it was openly
said that the pastors of the Church are not unanimous, therefore “it is
of the highest moment to expose and extinguish this false allegation,
so boldly and invidiously made by heretics and schismatics of every
name.”
The dogma was necessary also to justify the believer’s attitude
toward the Pope. Faith, argued Manning, requires the Infallibility
of the teacher of truth. If the teacher be fallible, our certainty
cannot be Divine. If the Pope be fallible, we cannot be certain that
the doctrines propounded by him--the Immaculate Conception, for
instance--are of faith. “The treatise of Divine Faith is therefore
incomplete so long as the Infallibility of the proponent is not fully
defined.”
Thus a theoretical system requires completion which nothing but this
dogma can give; for which, therefore, this dogma must be created.
Moreover, Manning scorns what he calls “the incoherence of admitting
a supremacy and denying its infallible action.” We have here a
reminiscence of De Maistre. There is the same theorising tendency. Two
dominant ideas are found throughout. The one, that the doctrine is
required to secure the completion of an _à priori_ view. The other,
that it will be practically a singularly useful asset. Therefore we
must have it. It is not the theologian, it is the ecclesiastical
statesman who speaks in this. The centralisation of power, concentrated
in one supreme individual, easily accessible, prompt to reply, was
Manning’s ideal. He contrasted it with the slow, deliberate method of
Universal Assemblies. Errors would have time to spread, with fearful
rapidity, before this heavy machinery could be brought effectively into
operation. Statesmen would frustrate its assembling. If the Pope be
personally infallible, apart from the Episcopate, “why,” asks Manning
quite naturally,
“why is he bound to take a means which demands an Ecumenical Council,
or a world-wide and protracted interrogation, with all the delays and
uncertainties of correspondence, when, by the Divine order, a certain
means in the Apostolic See is always at hand?”
Assertion--vigorous, uncompromising, sweeping--was not only the bent
of Manning’s disposition; it was also cultivated on principle. What
the English people wanted, according to the Archbishop of Westminster,
was neither compromise nor accommodation. “Downright truth, boldly
and broadly stated, like the ring of true metal, wins their
confidence.” When Gladstone described him as “the oracle,” Manning
replied, “He shall not find me ambiguous.” Thus he prided himself
on the quality of aggressive speech. Among his favourite phrases is
the term--“it is certain.” Six times in one page, applied to all
manner of things--historical interpretations, future probabilities,
indiscriminately. No shade of distinction exists. There might be no
such thing conceivable as hesitation in the universe. He seems to
grow, if possible, increasingly sharp, incisive, uncompromising, as his
words speed on.
“The Ultramontane opinion is simply this, that the Pontiff, speaking
_ex cathedra_ on faith or morals, is infallible. In this there are no
shades or moderations. It is simply aye or no.”
Of qualifications, of restrictions, nothing is said. It is all
sweepingly universal. Yet with all his heart, he says, he desires
to find a mode of conciliation--“but not a _via media_ which is
the essential method of falsehood.” Of the philosophic temper, the
balancing of opposing truths, the holding truths unreconciled, through
faith in their ultimate yet hitherto undiscovered synthesis, there is
not a shadow in these amazing Pastorals.
Nothing can surpass the confidence with which Manning expressed his
ideas of the work which the Council would effect.
“It is certain that upon a multitude of minds who are wavering and
doubtful ... the voice of a General Council will have great power.
The Council of Trent,” he tells us, “fixed the epoch after which
Protestantism never spread. The next General Council will probably
date the period of its dissolution.”[216]
[216] _Pastoral_ (1867), p. 90.
Not less singular, especially when read in the light of Manning’s
incessant polemical correspondence on the doctrine, is the picture
which he has drawn of the state of the Roman Church in this crisis.
There is universal excitement, he says, in the outer world, caused by
the assembling of the Council at Rome; “not, indeed, within the unity
of the Catholic Church, where all is calm in the strength of quiet and
of confidence, but outside in the political and religious world”--the
calm of the _Dublin Review_, for instance, and the passionate rhetoric
of Ward.
Manning further predicts that if this doctrine were defined, it
would be at once received throughout the world with “universal joy
and unanimity.” Nothing can prove more clearly than these words
how completely the theory with which he was identified fired his
imagination, and warped his judgment.
Manning entirely failed to carry the English Romanists with him. The
English Bishops at Rome elected Grant, not Manning, as their candidate
for the Commission of Faith. And the Archbishop was adopted by the
Italians. He complained of his English colleagues, that “of those
who ought to have defended Infallibility not one spoke. The laity
were averse and impatient They would not read.”[217] Some, however,
did read, among them Lord Acton, who characterised those Pastorals
as “elaborate absurdities.” They were read also by De Lisle, who was
amazed at Manning’s theory on the case of Honorius.
[217] Purcell, ii. p. 454.
“Archbishop Manning denies that Honorius fell into heresy, but in
denying this he appears to me to injure the Catholic cause, for
he denies history, and what is worse, sets himself up against a
General Council which is universally received, and which in this very
particular was solemnly confirmed by Pope Leo II., Honorius’s next
successor but one.”[218]
[218] _Life of De Lisle_, ii. p. 73.
Most significant is the contrast of type between Manning and Newman
within the Communion of Rome.
“Manning,” says Thureau Dangin, “like other converts in the ardour
of their new faith, and in reaction against the Protestant spirit
from which he had escaped, considered that he could not go too far in
conceptions designated ‘Ultramontane.’ The personal attractiveness
of Pius IX., who manifested a fatherly confidence in him, the
authority which thus accrued to him in the government of the Church,
the storm of controversy before and after the Vatican Council--all
confirmed him in this attitude. He was more concerned to extend
Infallibility than to determine its limits. He seemed to make it
a duty of conscience and a point of honour to offend the English
Catholics by presenting in uncompromising terms precisely those
features of Italian doctrine which scandalised them most. He was well
aware of his unpopularity, and consoled himself with an application
of the text, If I pleased men I should not be the servant of Christ.”
However, Manning pleased men, at least in Rome, where the larger
sympathies of Newman were most distasteful, and where a hardy official
went so far as to describe him as more Anglican than the Anglicans, and
the most dangerous man in England.
Meanwhile Manning is found denouncing the English Jesuits to Rome as
sympathisers with a watered version of Catholicism. Thus the Roman
Catholics in England were being thoroughly schooled in Ultramontanism,
and the Jesuits themselves Romanised by a convert from another Church.
The conclusions to which our investigations lead are: that the Roman
Communion in England during the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries was
Catholic in sentiment as opposed to Ultramontane; that the process of
change was wrought by Italian influence, imposing Italianised Bishops
upon a reluctant community, and by the suppression of the organs of
independent thought, especially those which did not revise the facts
of history in the interests of edification; that this conversion of
the Roman body to Ultramontane ideas necessitated a rewriting of the
English Roman literature, which was done on a very extensive scale,
and constantly without any acknowledgment of the changes introduced
into the author’s opinions; that this process of infiltration was
vigorously resisted, and continued incomplete down to the Council of
1870, in which Irish and English Bishops openly opposed the theories of
papal prerogatives which their Italianised rulers had laboured to force
upon them.