1869–1874. Lord Acton, however, did not ultimately escape unchallenged. He was not in Manning's Diocese or we may feel fairly certain that the Archbishop of Westminster would have pounced upon him.
Meantime Mr Gladstone argued that the Vatican Decrees involved political consequences adverse to modern freedom.[1] The Church's power to employ coercion was asserted by the Syllabus, and acknowledged by Newman.[2] Now that such consequences could be drawn from the Vatican Decrees Lord Acton did not dream of denying.[3] Gladstone's argument could not be met by denial. And, of course, the whole sympathies of Acton's mind were with Gladstone so far as repudiation of the use of coercive force in religion is concerned. Nothing in the world roused Acton's moral indignation more than Inquisition and Liguori's ethics. He admitted with characteristic sincerity that "Gladstone had not darkened the dark side of the question." All he could answer was that it does not follow that inferences which can be drawn will actually be made. He held that "the Council did not so directly deal with these matters as to exclude a Catholic explanation." The Council had not so acted "that no authentic gloss or explanation could ever put those perilous consequences definitely out of the way." This was certainly a curious defence of an Ecumenical Decree. It does not exclude a Catholic explanation. But this was all he could say. He could not even say what that true explanation was; for on that ground his own authorities might reject him. "I could not take my stand, for good or evil, as an interpreter of the Decrees, without risk of authoritative contradiction." This attitude, says Acton, "was
