Part 19

I can give you the precise facts of the affair about Montalembert’s Requiem from the most authentic sources, and it is worth while to do so, for it speaks volumes on the present state of things. The news of his death had reached Rome some hours, when a considerable number of foreigners, chiefly French, were admitted to an audience with the Pope. Immediately after the first words of blessing and encouragement, which they had come to request of him, Pius went on to speak of the man whose death had just been announced to him, saying that he had done great services to the Church, “mais il était malheureusement de ces Catholiques libéraux qui ne sont que demi-catholiques. Il y a quelques jours il écrivait des paroles”—here the Pope made a pause, and then proceeded—“Enfin, j’espère qu’il est bien mort”—or probably “qu’il a fait une bonne mort”—“L’orgueil était son principal défaut, c’est lui qui l’a égaré.”

While this was going on in the Vatican, Bougaud, one of the Vicar-Generals of the Bishop of Orleans, was inviting his countrymen from the pulpit of the French church of St. Louis to a Requiem for the illustrious dead, to be held next day in the church of Ara Celi. Archbishop Merode, Grand Almoner of the Pope and brother-in-law of Montalembert, had so arranged it, because it is an ancient privilege of the Roman patricians to have funeral services solemnized for them in this church, and Montalembert had been named a patrician by Pius IX. in recognition of his services in restoring the States of the Church and bringing back the Pope to Rome. He had contributed more than any of his contemporaries to that restoration, and it was he whose speech in the National Assembly at Paris in 1848 had decided the question of the Roman expedition. Bougaud had also mentioned that. Many had heard on the day before the service that it had been suddenly forbidden; nevertheless at the appointed hour in the morning about twenty French Bishops appeared with many priests and a large assemblage of laymen, the _élite_ of the French visitors now in Rome. There before the entrance of the church they found M. Veuillot, the old and implacable opponent and accuser of Montalembert, standing among a group of sacristy officials, who announced to all comers that the Pope had forbidden any service being held or any prayers offered there for the departed Count. They thought this incredible and forced their way into the church, and here the sacristans informed them that, by special order of the Pope, not only was the intended Requiem stopped but the usual masses must be suspended, as long as the French remained in the church. By degrees the congregation broke up, and about an hour afterwards, when the church was empty, a French priest contrived to say a low mass in a side chapel.

It was probably Banneville who intimated to the Pope, at his audience for taking leave on the 17th, what a feeling this had created in French circles in Rome, and what impression it must produce in France. So on the morning of Friday the 18th, to the amazement of the court officials, the Pope went to Sta. Maria Transpontana, an out-of-the-way church, without his usual cortége. Several Bishops passed the church on their way to the Council, and were surprised to see the Pope’s carriage waiting at the door, as they knew nothing of what had taken him there. In the church the Pope sent orders to a Bishop to say mass “for a certain Charles,” at which he assisted, and the following notice then appeared in the _Giornale di Roma_: “His Holiness, in consideration of the former services of Count Montalembert, ordered a mass to be celebrated for him in Sta. Maria Transpontana, and himself assisted at it from the tribune.” Meanwhile the journalists were instructed to say in their correspondence columns, that the prohibition had been issued, because the Requiem was meant to be made into a demonstration.(68) That insinuation implicates Archbishop Merode also, who resides in the Vatican, for he had given the order. The charge of pride, which the Pope brought against Montalembert, will excite astonishment and something more in France, where it was precisely his gentleness and modesty that had made him so universally beloved.

THIRTY-FIRST LETTER.

_Rome, March 21, 1870._—A feeling of weariness, lethargy and disgust has been forced on many Bishops by the treatment they have received and the whole course of affairs in the Council up to this time. The news of its dissolution would be welcome tidings to their ears. And not only strangers, but many residents here, would joyfully hail their deliverance from the existing situation; even one of the Legates said lately that, if the Council were to be suddenly dissolved by a death, the Church would be freed from a great distress. The Assembly Hall alone would suffice to disgust a prelate with the idea of taking part in a Council for the rest of his life. Yet they are obliged to sit hours in this comfortless chamber, without understanding what is said. A sense of time unprofitably wasted is the only result of many a sitting for men, to whom at home every hour is precious for the care of a large diocese. They say that, for the first time since Councils came into being, the Bishops have been robbed of their essential and inalienable right of free speech on questions of faith; that they are compelled to vote, but not allowed to give reasons for their vote and bear witness to the doctrine of their Churches. They complain that, though they can hand in written observations, no one but the Commission of twenty-four knows anything about them, and that for the Council itself and their fellow Bishops they can do nothing. The Commission will perhaps present a summary report of a hundred of these memorials and counter representations, according to the new order of business. This means that the work carefully matured by a Bishop through weeks or months of severe study will be summed up in two or three words, and in the shape it is thrown into by a hostile Committee. If the Bishops regard it as an intolerable oppression at home to have to submit their Pastorals for previous inspection to their Governments, here they can have nothing printed, even after it has undergone the censorship.

It is no mere phrase, when the Bishops say in their Protest against the new order of business that their consciences are intolerably burdened, and that the Œcumenical character of the Council is likely to be assailed and its authority fundamentally shaken (_labefacteretur_). They consider the arrangement for deciding doctrines by simply counting heads intolerable, and they recognise as of immeasurable importance, and the very turning-point of the whole Council (_totius Concilii cardo vertitur_), the question as to the necessary conditions of a definition of faith binding the consciences of all the faithful. The Pope wants to have a new article of faith made by the Council, on the acceptance or rejection of which every man’s salvation or condemnation is henceforth to depend. And now this same Pope has overthrown the principle always hitherto acknowledged in the Church, that such decrees could only be passed unanimously, and has made the opposite principle into a law.

The Opposition Bishops are well aware that any regular examination and discussion of the infallibility question is rendered impossible by the nature of the Council Hall and the plan of voting by majorities. They have therefore proposed to the Legates that a deputation of several Bishops chosen from among themselves should be associated with the Commission on Faith, or with certain Bishops of the majority, to discuss the form of the decree, and that, when they have come to a common understanding, the formula as finally agreed upon should be submitted to the vote of the Council in full assembly. The authorities will not readily yield to this demand on many accounts, and chiefly because what Tacitus said of the Roman people 1800 years ago is well understood at Rome now, “Juvit credulitatem nox et promptior inter tenebras affirmatio.”

It was a prudent foresight which led the Pope so strictly to prohibit the Bishops from printing anything here during the sitting of the Council; the Jesuits of the _Civiltà_ must retain their exclusive monopoly of free speech. But such conferences as the minority wished for were no less dangerous than printing, and would naturally lead to the grounds of their decision being made public. They have been summoned to affirm, not to deny, and “promptior inter tenebras affirmatio.” Meanwhile the Germans say that a thorough sifting of the question is the first thing necessary to be insisted upon, and that for two reasons: first to satisfy their own consciences, and secondly for the sake of their flocks. For they would not think it enough to enforce the new dogmas on the faithful of their dioceses by mere official acts and by referring them to the authority of the Council, which is ultimately reduced to the authority of the Pope, but would feel bound to give them sufficient reasons for its acceptance; and they have not been able to discover the cogency of these reasons themselves. Pius IX. considers this superfluous. He feels his infallibility, as he says, and therefore thinks it very scandalous that the Bishops do not choose to be content with this testimony of his feeling. However, the negotiations with the Legates about these conferences are still going on.

It must be allowed that there is not the slightest exaggeration in the words of the seventy-six protesting Bishops. It is strictly true that the new order of business, if it is carried out, must raise the greatest doubts as to the Œcumenical character of the Council among all thinking Catholics, especially such as are familiar with the history of Councils. And it is undeniable that this would excite a terrible disturbance in the Church, a contest the end of which cannot be foreseen. The Jesuits are now stirring the fire with the same assiduity and malicious pleasure as their predecessors in the Order of 1713 and the following years, when the whole of France and the Netherlands was plunged into a state of ecclesiastical strife and confusion by the Bull _Unigenitus_, which they procured. They enjoy such contests, and have always carried them through with the merciless harshness which is peculiar to them, relying on the strength of their organization. It may sound hard that the Order should so often be reproached with making its members at once accusers and bailiffs, but they would themselves consider this rather a note of praise than of blame.

The retribution for their conduct in 1713 and afterwards came in 1763 and 1773. But the Order, or at least its Roman members, who are all-powerful through the favour of the Pope, have no fear of such consequences now. A Jesuit can make a home for his theology, now here now there. If the Order is driven from one country, it is received into another; its property is moveable and can be transferred easily and without loss, and moreover it possesses, so to speak, an itinerant mint in its carefully elaborated skill in the direction of female souls, whether lodged in male or female bodies. They are thorough adepts too in the speculations of the money market, and manage their transactions in banknotes as successfully as the most practised merchant, so that they are quietly but surely recovering their prosperity in many cities of the Italian Kingdom, even in Florence, while all other Orders have been suppressed there. So they are well equipped and in excellent spirits for meeting the future. If their system of doctrine is now raised to full dominion by Pope and Council, and if they succeed in the next Conclave in procuring the election of a Pope thoroughly devoted to them and resolved to carry on the present system, the ship of the Order will ride majestically on the waves of future events, and fear no storms. A thoroughly well-informed man has assured us that the Pope said the other day to a Roman prelate, that “the Jesuits had involved him in this business of the Council and infallibility, and he was determined now to go through with it, cost what it might. They must take the responsibility of the results.” A very similar statement was made by the Emperor Francis I. He said that “he could not tell how his finance minister would answer hereafter for having precipitated so many men into poverty and misery by establishing a national bankruptcy.”

For the fourth or fifth time since the opening of the Council, the ultramontane correspondents have been instructed to say, that the acoustic defects of the Hall have been remedied through new arrangements. This is not true; the speeches are never understood in many parts of the Chamber, not even where the secretaries sit. Meanwhile the Pope has conceived a desire to appear again in the midst of the Bishops and hold a Solemn Session. Hitherto he has been invisible and generally unapproachable to his “venerable brethren,” as he officially styles them. The last time the assembly saw him was at the unsuccessful Solemn Session of January 6, when the Bishops had to go through the useless ceremony of swearing oaths, in order to fill up the vacant time. For Pius does not feel that there is the slightest need for ascertaining the views of the Bishops about the measures in hand, or their wishes and proposals, and hearing their report of the state of Church matters in their own countries. He stands too high for that. A French prelate remarked lately that the Council does not thrive, because the Pope stands at once too near it and too far from it—so near that he robs it of all freedom, so far that there is no community of feeling and views and understanding.

There has never indeed been a period in Church history where it has been made so palpably plain to the Episcopate how much the name of “brother,” which the Pontifex gives to every Bishop, is worth, and how immeasurable is the gulf between the “brother” on the Roman throne, the Pope-King, and the brother in Paris or Vienna or Prague.

On the 16th a part of the first _Schema_ was distributed in a revised form, and a General Congregation was held upon it on the 18th, at the very time when the Pope was hearing a mass for Montalembert in reparation for his treatment of the illustrious dead on the 15th and 16th. He wanted to hold a Solemn Session on the 25th, and thought there would be some decrees ready to be published. In defiance of the order of business the Bishops had only a day and a half, instead of ten days, allowed them to get acquainted with the revised text. However, so large a number of speakers sent in their names, and so many new difficulties came to light, that Pius had once more to abandon his design of proclaiming new articles of faith on that day to the expectant world. It looks as if the fourth month of the Council would pass by with as little result as the three first. Easter Monday is already named as the period fixed for publishing the first doctrinal decree. Meanwhile a new power has been introduced in the person of the Jesuit, Kleutgen. He had been condemned some time ago by the Holy Office on account of a scandal in a convent. But he has now been rehabilitated, as the Jesuits have no superfluity of theologians, and is to take part in drawing up the _Schemata_. The time fixed for sending in representations on the infallibility decree has been extended for ten days more, to the 25th. There is no lack of criticisms and counter-statements; the Bishops, although foreseeing that their intellectual progeny will be strangled directly after birth, seem anxious to gain the satisfaction of saying, “dixi et salvavi animam meam.” The German Bishops remember the assurances they gave at Fulda. The Archbishop of Cologne reminded the faithful of his diocese, as late as Feb. 9, of this Pastoral, to set their minds at rest. To-day, March 21, in view of the infallibilist _Schema_ and the new order of business, he would no doubt hardly think it prudent to say any longer to the Germans, “Be confident that the Council will establish no new dogma, and proclaim nothing which is not written by faith and conscience on your hearts.” The Germans will now be curious to see the circumlocutions and explanations appended, in the fresh Pastorals compiled after the fabrication of the new dogma, to the Pastoral issued from the tomb of St. Boniface.

The Bishops should take care that they are not, like the eagle in the Libyan fable, struck with arrows feathered from their own wings. Banneville, who succeeded two men very unacceptable in Rome, Lavalette and Sartiges, was amicably received, and found it agreeable to keep on the best footing with Antonelli, and to treat the whole affair of the Council easily and superficially. Whatever he said was always very mildly expressed. It was so convenient to enjoy the favour both of the Pope and the Secretary of State, and to be commended by the majority of the Council as a pious and enlightened statesman. The differences between him and Count Daru were accordingly inevitable. For Daru appreciates the extent of the danger, not only as a statesman but as a zealous Catholic, while Banneville’s one thought has ever been to please the Roman authorities, so that a French prelate said to him shortly before his departure, “Pensiez-vous que vous étiez ambassadeur auprès de Jésuites?” And thus at last the necessity of instructing him has been recognised at Paris. But at the same time Bishop Forcade of Nevers has been sent there, intrusted with the mission of representing Banneville’s conduct to the Government as exactly right, and advocating the views and desires of Antonelli and the majority of the Council. He has told them at Paris that the majority do not want to hear anything of the admission of a French ambassador to the Council—which is credible enough—but that the Government has nothing to fear from the decrees, for the Court of Rome would in any case respect the Concordat. Antonelli, as may be seen, abides by his panacea. The only question is whether they are disposed at Paris to be paid with such diplomatic counters. Meanwhile it has been rumoured that Count Daru would send a memorial to the Council. To the Council? Say rather to the Pope and his Secretary of State. This putting forward of the Council, whose freedom and self-determination the Roman Court is neither able nor willing to anticipate, is a device which no one can take seriously. The Bishop of Orleans in his last publication has pierced a hole in the mask, which renders it nearly useless. He remarks (p. 54), “Whatever is to come before the Council can only come through the Commission appointed by the Pope, that is ultimately through himself. He is the master, the sole and absolute master, with whom it rests to admit a proposal or set it aside.”

Antonelli says that no ambassadors can be admitted, for if it were conceded to the French, it could not be refused to other powers, Austria, Bavaria, or even Prussia. He is quite right there. It has been a main object from the first with this Council to give a striking example of the entire exclusion of the lay element in ecclesiastical deliberations. It is just because the Governments and States are so deeply concerned in the projected decrees, because their rights and laws and their whole future are affected, that they are not to be heard or admitted. In presence of the representative of his Government, many a Bishop would think twice before assenting to a decree flatly contradicting the laws and political principles of his country. And then the admission of ambassadors would break through the mystery, and make the strict silence imposed on the Bishops almost useless. A large number of them, and above all the entire Opposition, would be very glad of this, but for that very reason the ruling powers detest it the more. As a foretaste and practical illustration of what the maxims of the _Schema de Ecclesiâ_ will lead to, when made into dogmas, it is worth while to notice the decision issued by the Pope and his Penitentiary in September 1869, when this Schema had just been drawn up, on the question whether a priest could swear to observe the Austrian Constitution. To take the oath absolutely was forbidden; he can only take it with an express reservation of the laws of the Church, and—which is very significant—he must state publicly that he only takes the oath, even with this reservation, by virtue of papal permission. That is a new and very important step on the road to be trodden with the aid of the Council. Every clergyman is to be reminded, and to remind others, in merely discharging a simple civil obligation, that he is dependent on the Pope in the matter, and may not properly speaking swear civil fealty and obedience to the laws without papal permission, not even in the conditional form which makes the oath itself illusory. This is quite after the mind of the Jesuits, who have always shown a special predilection for the doctrine that every cleric is not a subject and citizen with corresponding rights, but simply a subaltern and servant of the Pope. This is a prologue to the twenty-one Canons of the _Schema de Ecclesiâ_.

I have just learnt from the _Kölner Volkszeitung_ that the chaplain of a prelate here charges me with a gross falsehood in reference to the words of the Pope. He appeals to the Paris _Union_, which has the words used by the Pope, “Je suis la voie, la vérité, et la vie,” with the passage inserted by the editor. I had cited the words from the _Observateur Catholique_ of 1866 (p. 357), where they are authenticated by the signature of an ear-witness, MacSheeby, and correspond entirely with the statement of the _Union_. But in the _Monde_, which was not in my reach, a totally different version is given, which has no similarity to that authenticated by Roman correspondents in the _Union_ and _Observateur_, and does not connect the words, “I am the way,” etc., with the Pope at all. It must remain uncertain after this whether the version of the _Monde_ or of the two other journals is the genuine one.

THIRTY-SECOND LETTER.