Roman Catholic Opposition to Papal Infallibility/Chapter 12

Roman Catholic Opposition to Papal Infallibility
by William John Sparrow Simpson
Chapter XII: Darboy, Dupanloup, Maret, Gratry, and Montalembert
4280589Roman Catholic Opposition to Papal Infallibility — Chapter XII: Darboy, Dupanloup, Maret, Gratry, and MontalembertWilliam John Sparrow Simpson

CHAPTER XII

DARBOY, DUPANLOUP, MARET, GRATRY, AND
MONTALEMBERT

The Archbishop of Paris in 1870 was Mgr. Darboy. The records of his See had been recently a series of ghastly tragedies. His immediate predecessors were Quélen, Affre, Sibour, and Cardinal Morlot. Only the last had died a natural death. Affre was shot on the barricades, and Sibour assassinated by one of his own priests. Darboy himself was destined to be added to the same terrible list. He was shot in prison during the Commune in 1871. His religious sympathies were the reverse of Ultramontane.

"By his early theological training, by mental tendencies, and not less by the traditions of the Diocese and See of Paris, Mgr. Darboy," says a biographer, "was devoted to the ancient principles of the Church of France."[1]

Darboy strove to maintain the ancient rights and authority of the Episcopate, and made no secret of his repugnance to—nay, he openly rejected—the theory that the Roman Pontiff possessed direct and immediate authority over every separate diocese. And, while he was a strong supporter of the Pope's temporal power, he held to the time-honoured principle, that no papal document could be published in France without State permission. His great position and remarkable gifts of caution and self-control made him a power to be reckoned with, whether in France or at Rome. In the Vatican he was disliked and feared, as one of the strongest obstructors to Ultramontane conceptions. Napoleon III., who appointed him Archbishop, requested Pius IX. to raise him to the Cardinalate. The Pope would neither refuse nor consent. But he gave expression to his disgust in a private letter[2] to Darboy, rebuking him in the severest terms for holding opinions injurious to the papal authority. Darboy replied, with dignity and self-control, that he had no desire to offend. But he gave no suggestion of any change of mind. "I avoid argument," he wrote, "because I do not desire to argue with a superior on the basis of a letter containing inaccurate statements of fact, and imparting to me words which I have not spoken." This was in the autumn of 1865.

In the June of 1867 the Archbishop went to Rome in order to bring about an understanding. Shortly after his arrival he had an audience with the Pope. The audience began with a long and awkward silence, interrupted at length by Darboy, who observed that he was ready to hear the Pope's orders, unless the Pope preferred that the Archbishop should speak first. Pius then requested Darboy to speak, which he did, explaining at considerable length the position of things in his diocese. Pius expressed himself contented; and Darboy returned to Paris, where he gave an account of this interview to his assembled clergy, to whom he was closely united both in opinion and sympathy.

However, the incident was by no means closed. In August 1868 the Pope's letter of 1865 appeared in a Canadian newspaper, and was shortly copied and circulated all over France. The effect of the publication of one of the severest rebukes which a modern Bishop has received from Rome was naturally injurious to the Archbishop's authority. Darboy expostulated with Cardinal Antonelli. His explanations to the Pope, he said, appeared sufficient, if not complete. At any rate, no further allusion to the subject had been made in subsequent correspondence with the Holy See. Darboy had left Rome with the impression that an understanding was secured, or the subject set aside. And behold, suddenly the letter of 1865 had been drawn out of its privacy and thrown into full publicity. Now, since the letter was highly unfavourable, it was clear that the publication was not his doing. The act did not look like courage, and had all the drawbacks of indelicacy.

Antonelli replied diplomatically that the incident was very regrettable, especially since the motives prompting this exposure could hardly be described as they deserve. But, while concurring in the Archbishop's condemnation of the act, he was bound to add that the Pope was innocent of it and in no way responsible. Darboy considered this to be an extremely unsatisfactory evasion, and wrote again, indicating that suspicion attached to certain officials. Antonelli answered that the officials entrusted with correspondence at Rome were above suspicion. He admitted, however, that the Nuncio at Paris received a copy of the letter, with permission to show it to the French Minister of Worship in case of necessity. It was not, however, likely that he had availed himself of this permission, or that he had been so indiscreet as to publish it. Antonelli suggested that possibly the perpetrator was an ecclesiastic resident in Paris; but how a copy of the Pontifical letter could have been secured, he was unable to explain.

Expostulations from the French Government failed in eliciting any less unsatisfactory reply. Vague suspicions and unproved possibilities were all that the Archbishop received. No real apology was ever given; no attempt made to repair the mischief done. But sincere relations of mutual confidence between the Archbishop and the Holy See were made from that time forward exceedingly difficult. It appears that Manning was commissioned at Rome to intervene. He visited Paris in the autumn of 1868, and assured Darboy of the Pope's "paternal sentiments" towards him. He suggested that a conciliatory overture from the Archbishop would be well received at Rome. Darboy declined. After Napoleon's advocacy of his claims to the Cardinalate any such step would seem nothing better than the promptings of self-interest. Thus the Archbishop reserved unimpaired his freedom of expression. Before leaving Paris, to attend the Vatican Council, he gave utterance to his convictions once again, in a pastoral letter to his Diocese.[3] Dealing with disquieting anticipations of coming dogmas; new articles, likely to be imposed on Catholics, which hitherto no man had been required to believe; assertions that the minority would be treated as an opposition, and speedily suppressed; Darboy seized the opportunity of re-affirming the ancient principles:—

"If the Ecumenical Council orders explicit belief in matters hitherto open to denial without charge of heresy, it must be because these matters were already certain and generally acknowledged. For in these questions, Bishops are witnesses who testify, not authors who discover. The conditions essential to an article of faith are: that it be revealed by God; and that it be contained in the Deposit which the Christian centuries have faithfully guarded and transmitted one to another without alteration. Now it is incredible that five or six hundred Bishops will affirm in the face of the world that they have found in the convictions of their respective Churches that which is not there. If, then, they propose in Council truths to be believed, it is because these truths already exist in the evidence of Tradition, and in the common instructions of Theology; and thus that they are not something new."

What Darboy meant by these guarded words, and what his clergy understood him to mean, is beyond dispute. The theory of Papal Infallibility was not contained in the traditions of the Diocese and See of Paris. The contrary theory had prevailed. The Archbishop went to Rome with a full intention of saying so—and he said it.

When Darboy arrived in Rome, he was speedily admitted to an audience with the Pope. He was one of the few to whom this privilege was given. The Pope had decided not to give special audiences before the Council assembled. But the Archbishop of Paris could not well be left out. The very security and existence of the Council depended, humanly speaking, entirely on the goodwill of France. Accordingly the Archbishop of Paris had to be received. It was a difficult interview. Darboy complained of the publicity given to the letter of 1865, which, being confidential, ought never to have been yielded to general curiosity, by persons surrounding the Pope. Moreover, the letter contained inaccuracies and errors. The Archbishop said that he had refrained from a public defence, partly from reluctance to correct the assertions of his spiritual chief, partly because such defence would be open to misconstruction as prompted by personal ambition.

The Pope, who thoroughly appreciated the allusion in these last words, replied sympathetically; adding that he would not henceforth believe any accusation against the Archbishop. He also expressed his gratitude for the security which the Imperial protection afforded him.

2. Dupanloup, Bishop of Orleans, was in the year 1868 at the height of his reputation. No warmer advocate of papal rights existed in France. In youthful fervour he had written a thesis on behalf of Infallibility, a theory, however, which he had long since abandoned in favour of the French traditional view. That which more than anything else had confirmed this reversion to history was the issue of the Syllabus of 1864, which was to his mind a republication of obsolete mediævalism, most unsuited to the requirements of modern thought. For Dupanloup was in keen sympathy with modern ideas; and this example of the possible exercise of unlimited authority discouraged and alarmed him, as indeed it did most of the leaders of the Church in France. With this disconcerting fact before their eyes, nothing could be further from their desires than to extend an authority already so imprudently exerted. Distrust of infallible pretensions, decided preference for the older Gallican theory, accordingly, widely prevailed.

Dupanloup had no suspicion that the Vatican Council would determine the doctrine of Papal Infallibility. He was able, so late as 1868, to write to the clergy of his diocese a glowing, re-assuring letter on the coming assembly. It is an affectionate pastoral utterance, whose logical cohesion must not be too closely inspected. He is persuaded that all is well, and he says so in various forms. He assures his clergy that, according to Catholic principles, Bishops united in council with the Pope "decide questions as witnesses of the faith of their Churches, as judges by Divine right." He is convinced that this traditional principle will be maintained. Catholics have no cause to fear. A Council is a sublime union of authority with liberty. This will be illustrated in the coming events in Rome. He appeals with impassioned eagerness to the separated Eastern Churches, and to the Protestant communities, to seize this golden occasion for unity. In his glowing vision the Council is invested with all the graces of considerateness and caution: it becomes the means of re-uniting Christendom—a work of pacification and of light.

The condition of the Church in France at the time when the assembling of the Vatican Council was proclaimed may be partly ascertained from some extremely important and trustworthy sources.[4] Cardinal Antonelli sent a circular to the Nuncios in December 1868, asking for periodical reports on the attitude of Governments towards the Council; on the conduct of Bishops relative to the same; on the general bearing of non-Catholics; on the opinions of the Press, books and pamphlets issued upon the subject; and on the desires and requirements of each country. The Apostolic Nuncio in Paris induced four ecclesiastics privately to undertake this task, and a careful and elaborate memoir was the result. The report states that the section of the Press commonly called Ultramontane, such as the Monde and the Univers, wrote on the Council daily, but offended many by their general tone and the length to which they went.

The French clergy are described as pious and reciting their breviaries, but in education poor. As to the general condition in France, Catholics are divided into two classes: Catholics pure and simple, and liberal Catholics. These latter are the object of preference to the Government. They fear that the Council will proclaim the dogmatic Infallibility of the Pope. The assertion circulates that if the Pope is declared infallible it will be necessary to change the language of the Creed from "I believe in the Church" to "I believe in the Pope." But the great majority of Catholics submit by anticipation to whatever the Council may proclaim. They admire the courageous convocation of the Council in such stormy, revolutionary times. They do not conceal from themselves that the Sovereign Pontiff, by a sentiment of august reserve, may not desire to take the initiative in a matter affecting him so personally. But they hope that the Fathers of the coming Council will define it by acclamation. This report was sent privately by the Paris Nuncio to Cardinal Antonelli in Rome. To the astonishment of its four compilers, it appeared, substantially, shortly after, in the pages of the Civilta Cattolica, the more or less official Roman journal under Jesuit influence. This discovery that they were being merely utilised as reporters for an Italian magazine, and that their confidential communications were published in print, under the heading "Correspondence from France," so disgusted the compilers that the Nuncio had to tell Antonelli that they declined to continue. They feared, not unnaturally, that recognition of authorship in France might lead to serious results for themselves. This article led to an able French reply,[5] which accused the Roman publishers of having printed exclusively in the interests of the Ultramontanes, and of eliminating everything adverse to the designs of a certain party in the Church. They had issued in this Italian magazine an Ultramontane manifesto by no means concurrent with the material of the original report. The article in the Civilta Cattolica does not, said the critic, report what actually exists in France, but what Rome desires to find existing. France and its Government are persuaded that the opinion of sole Papal Infallibility is not accepted by the vast majority of French clergy, whether priests or bishops; and they have the right to hope that the Church in council assembled will have the wisdom to avoid the theme.

But this pronouncement of the Italian journal filled Dupanloup with consternation. The high position of the journal was beyond dispute. The vast distinction between its definite and extravagant utterances and the vague generalities of the Pope's own statement was equally obvious. And yet, situated as they were in Rome, could the editors have dared to publish such assertions if entirely destitute of official recognition? Dupanloup's grief was great. Yet for a time he was silent. Meanwhile a storm of controversy broke out. Writings for and against Infallibility appeared in all directions.

The Ultramontane doctrine was defended by Dechamps, Archbishop of Mechlin, afterwards appointed by the Pope Primate of Belgium.[6] The Belgian Episcopate was small but united; only six attended the Vatican deliberations. But they were altogether Ultramontane, being appointed direct from Rome. Dechamps defended the theory of Papal Infallibility chiefly on à priori grounds. He maintained that a doctrinal authority, Divinely established, ought to be infallible. Unless it makes this claim, such authority cannot be Divinely established. For that which may deceive us, or leave us in error, cannot be Divine. He endorsed the principle of De Maistre, that Infallibility is a necessary consequence of supremacy. One who pronounces absolute dogmatic decisions, and addresses them to all the faithful and the entire Catholic Episcopate, without requesting the consent, either direct or indirect, of the Episcopate, but rather commanding them to publish and carry out his decisions, forbidding them to infringe them, or rashly oppose them, under penalty of de facto excommunication, is personally infallible. Otherwise his dogmatic constitutions are a tyrannical usurpation of the rights of the Episcopate. And, since Dechamps does not admit the possibility of the latter alternative, he reaches quite satisfactorily his own conclusion.

Thus, to the Archbishop's mind, the Infallibility of the Holy See is an indisputable truth, based on revelation, contained in the written and traditional Word of God. It is inseparably bound up with truths which are of faith. Venturing into the department of history, the author believes that Pope Honorius miscalculated, through inability to foresee the results of his diplomatic endeavours, but committed no theological error. He insinuates a suspicion that the Greeks have falsified the Acts of the Sixth Council. They have so often done this sort of thing. During the first fourteen centuries the Infallibility of the Papal See was, according to Dechamps, never called in question. That Bishops opposed the Pope, he admits. But only those who sided with the Pope constituted the Church. The doctrine is, he assures his readers, incontestably Catholic. A man can be a heretic in the sight of God without being so in the sight of the Church. He is a heretic if he rejects a truth which he knows to be revealed although not defined. There is to Dechamps only one truth in all the Gospel affirmed with the same superabundant clearness as Papal Infallibility, and that is the real presence in the Eucharist. Do not therefore let us hesitate to define this truth, which forms the basis of the Divine constitution of the Church a truth which Scripture conclusively reveals, and which twenty centuries have glorified.

This treatise was highly commended at Rome. Pius himself congratulated Dechamps on the sagacity and erudition with which he had refuted the cavils of opponents.

3. Then Mgr. Maret, Bishop of Sura, published his book: probably the most measured, learned, and conciliatory statement of the ancient doctrine which the French Church had seen since the days of Bossuet.

Maret's two scholarly volumes were not written for the multitude. They could only appeal to the few. They form a long historical treatise on the relation between the Papacy and the Episcopate. History, as understood by Maret, shows in the Church a monarchy limited by an aristocracy: a Pope regulated by Bishops. The jurisdiction of the Episcopate is not derived from the Papacy but from Christ. Maret disclaims any intention of diminishing the real prerogatives of the Apostolic See:[7] but he is bound to assert historic truth. History shows that there were Bishops in the early Church who did not derive their jurisdiction from St Peter. If Antioch can be traced to him, the Asiatic Churches are traced to St John. It can be proved that numerous Bishops have held their mission neither directly nor indirectly from the Roman See. Their institution is not by Divine right an exclusive papal prerogative.

Episcopal jurisdiction being direct from Christ, all Bishops assembled in council possess an equal right. The Infallibility of the Church is collective, not individual; not to be sought in the isolated utterances of the one, but in the concurrent testimony of the entire Episcopate. Bellarmine, the leading advocate of the opposite school, is implicated by his theory, according to Maret, in insoluble difficulties. For he admits that, for an utterance to become infallible, there are certain conditions to be fulfilled, such as serious and prolonged reflection and consultation with the Pope's advisers. If these were neglected the result would be insecure. But, conscious that this conditional Infallibility diminishes its worth, Bellarmine asserts that an ill-advised definition is impossible; since the Almighty, having willed the end, must also will the means. The precarious character of such à priori constructions is to Maret sufficiently self-evident. The scriptural evidence points the other way. Our Lord, says Maret, did not cause His prayer to preserve St Peter from a lamentable defect of faith: for God respects man's freedom. At the most solemn hour in all time that when the mystery of universal salvation was being accomplished the chief of the Apostolic College denies his Master thrice. If he quickly recovered, wept bitterly, and grew deeper in love, the analogy would be, not the preservation of his successors from defects of faith, but their speedy recovery; that inconsistencies in papal decisions should be transient, and not permanently affect their loyalty to the truth. Whatever may be said about the letter of Honorius, what is absolutely certain is that he did not strengthen his brethren. Often in the Councils of the Church a papal utterance has been placed before the Bishops. If this utterance were in itself infallible, the only reasonable attitude would be passive obedience and blind submission. This is not the attitude of true judges, such as the Bishops have been traditionally regarded.

Maret complains that the doctrine that Infallibility resides in the Collective Episcopate is sometimes disparaged as Gallican; whereas it is by no means restricted to the Church of France, although it possesses there its principal exponents. Modern Ultramontanism is to Maret a lamentable phenomenon, greatly promoted by the ill-regulated influence of such extremists as Lamennais and Joseph de Maistre. It involves a treatment of history which but for à priori theories would be inconceivable.

In the midst of this increasing storm Dupanloup wrote, in reference to his former vision: "Ah! I had drawn an ideal of a Council full of charity, zeal, and love: and behold, all of a sudden appears a scene of lamentable disputes." But still he published nothing until Manning's Pastoral appeared, and that provoked him to public protest. It was November 1869 when Dupanloup circulated his Observations, and into its pages he put his whole mind and heart.

It was natural, said the Bishop to his clergy, that filial piety should desire to adorn a father with all gifts and all prerogatives; but, congenial as these instincts were to filial piety, the definition of a dogma demanded other considerations than sentiment. Journalism, in the pages of the Civilta Cattolica, had assumed the right to anticipate theological decisions; and declarations of faith in the personal and separate Infallibility of the Pope were being elicited from the most simple-minded and unqualified. It was actually being taught—the reference is to Manning—that the Pope was infallible "apart from the episcopal body whether united or dispersed." In reply to these extremists, Dupanloup did not reject the doctrine categorically: he confined himself to the assertion that its definition was inopportune. Yet he marshalled such an array of difficulties and objections as to imply much more than the inopportuneness of definition.

Dupanloup declares that he cannot believe that Pius IX. has assembled the Council to define his own Infallibility. This was never mentioned in the Pope's address as one of the grounds for its convocation. The purpose, according to Pius IX., was to remedy the existing evils in the Church and in social life. Was it credible, asked Dupanloup, that in the midst of the many urgent problems here suggested and implied, a novel, unexpected, and profoundly complex and thorny question was to be thrown in the way, to ruin the prospects of unity, and to provide the world with scenes of a painfully discordant type? Doubtless, he continued, men would assure him that a principle was at stake:—

"A principle!" echoed Dupanloup; "even granting that were so, I answer, Is it then essential to the life of the Church that this principle should become a dogma of faith? How, then, explain the fact that the Church has lived for eighteen centuries without defining a principle essential to her existence? How explain the fact that she has formulated all her doctrine, produced her teachers, condemned all heresies, without this definition?"

Accordingly the Bishop denies that there can be any necessity. It is the Church which is infallible, he says, and the Infallibility of the Church has been to this hour sufficient for all religious needs. Dupanloup earnestly recalled the Ultramontanes to earlier principles which long prevailed in Christendom. The principle to be observed in defining doctrine is that given by Pius IV. to the Council of Trent: Let nothing be defined without unanimous consent. Dupanloup remembers well that when he was in Rome, in 1867, Pius IX., in discussing the projected Council, was most solicitous that subjects which might divide the Episcopate should not be brought before it. And in a recent reply to some English ministers as to terms of reunion, the Pope had spoken of papal supremacy, but not a word of Infallibility. If certain journalists still proclaim this theory and expect to intimidate the Bishops into silence, Dupanloup's reply is, They neither know Pius IX. nor the Episcopate.

Dupanloup's transparent sincerity none will doubt. But in face of the facts at our disposal, it is singular that he was so little able to read the signs of the times, or to estimate the forces at the disposal of the Infallibilist party. It is clear that he proposed to go to Rome totally ignorant of the issues before him, frankly disbelieving that Infallibility would come within conciliar discussion. It is clear that whatever service he had rendered to the papal cause, he was not in the confidence of Pius IX. But that this doctrine was the deliberate aim for which the Council was gathered is probably now a settled conviction with serious students of history. It is simply incredible that so far-sighted a Curia as that of Rome was suddenly led by impulse to the formulation of a dogma most momentous yet quite unforeseen.

If Dupanloup pronounced the dogma of Papal Infallibility most inopportune, it was partly because he understood sympathetically the conditions of religious life outside the Roman Communion, and knew that nothing in the world could be less calculated to win. He wrote most forcibly on the futility of inviting, as the Pope had done, the Oriental Bishops of the separated Churches to attend a Council, while preparing to erect a higher barrier than ever against their reception. Could anything, he asks, be less persuasive than this? "There is already a division between us: we will make it an abyss. You already deny the Supremacy; we require you to accept the personal Infallibility!" Dupanloup is aware that certain recent converts ardently desire this doctrine. But he knows also Protestants desiring to become converts whom the doctrine will effectively repel.

But it is in reference to the difficulties which the dogma must create within the Communion accepting it that Dupanloup is, perhaps, most impressive.

1. He sees that grave difficulties must attend the attempt to distinguish papal utterances which are infallible from those which are not. What are the precise conditions of an utterance ex cathedra? It is generally assumed that all pontifical utterances have not this character. Does it depend upon external conditions, such as the person or body to whom it is directed, whether an individual, a local Communion, or the Universal Church? Is it subjected to internal conditions; and if so, what? Must the Pope reflect, study, pray, take counsel; if so, with whom? Or need he merely speak? Must his utterance assume a written form, or will verbal message be enough? Is the Pope infallible if he addresses the whole Church but acts under intimidation? And if fear disqualifies infallible deliverance, does not also perverseness, imprudence, passion? Or will the partisans of Infallibility say that the Almighty allows the former, but miraculously prevents the latter? And will it be easy to determine what constitutes constraint?

2. Then again he sees historical difficulties in the way. The definition of Infallibility must be retrospective. If the Pope be decreed infallible now, it follows that he must have been equally infallible from the beginning. The same character must rest on all decisions across eighteen centuries complying with the conditions essential to its exercise. Is the Council to make the application of the principle to the past, and investigate this theological field of history. Dupanloup recoils from the prospect of such investigations; nor is he happy about their effect upon the doctrine itself. Augustine taught that, after the judgment of Rome, there remained the Council of the Universal Church. This affirms the principle that, after the decision of the Pope, the decision of the Church is essential to a definition of faith. And Dupanloup manifestly held the same.

3. But difficulties increase. The Infallibility of the individual seems inconsistent with the Divinely constituted function of the Episcopate as judge and witness to the Faith. The whole principle of the Christian centuries has been that the collective testimony of the Episcopate is the ultimate expression in matters of faith. Bishops, says Dupanloup, are judges as to what the faith really is. They have always decided in Councils as true judges. The very expressions affixed with their signatures prove it. "Ego judicans, ego definiens, subscripsi." Such was the formula. Was—but when Dupanloup wrote these sentences he had not anticipated the introduction of a novel form at the Vatican Assembly. A change of theory is appropriately accompanied by a change of phrase. Meanwhile the Bishop pursues his argument. If Papal Infallibility is independent of the Episcopate, then the essential prerogative of the latter would be done away. What defining power is left for the Bishops to exert? They can give, we are told, their sentence in the form of a simple assent. But will they be free to give their assent or to withhold it? Not in the least. They will be under an obligation to assent. But no doctrine would depend on their assent. For, on the Ultramontane theory, the Pope's decision would bind all consciences of itself, independently of all episcopal approbation. But in that case, how could it any longer be maintained, as it has been maintained hitherto, that Bishops are real judges as to what is of faith?

Dupanloup's protest and adverse criticism on the dogma of Infallibility were delivered, as may readily be believed, with profound distress, and prompted by nothing but a painful sense of duty. He says that he is well aware of the hostile constructions which will be placed upon his words, of the disloyalty with which he will be charged. Yet such accusations will be as untrue as they are unjust.

"I dare to say," he writes, "that the Church of France has given such proofs of its devotion to Rome as give it the right to be heard, and the right to be believed, when it speaks of its attachment to the Holy See."

And he brings his letter to a close with words of sanguine expectation, soon to be piteously refuted by experience.

"I am persuaded that as soon as I have touched that sacred land, and reverenced the tomb of the Apostles, I shall feel myself far from the battle in a region of peace, in a midst of an assembly controlled by a father and composed of brethren."

Dupanloup, says Quirinus in the well-known Letters from Rome

"attacked the opportuneness with such a powerful array of testimonies in his famous Pastoral that every one saw clearly that the doctrine itself was involved, though he never entered in so many words on the theological question."[8]

"If Dupanloup says that he does not discuss Infallibility but opportuneness," observes a shrewd critic[9] writing against him from Rome, "yet two-thirds of the letter are directed against Infallibility itself; for if the errors ascribed to the Popes were historic, such a definition would not only be inopportune but false."

Why, then, it will be asked, did Dupanloup conduct his antagonism on the basis of opportuneness rather than on that of truth? It was simply because the opponents of Papal Infallibility, the German Episcopate in particular, refused to commit themselves unanimously to the latter position. They knew, of course, that they were greatly in the minority, and they believed that they could secure a numerical strength on the basis of opportuneness, which they could not expect on that of explicit rejection. And in the first instance their impression was correct. The position served its purpose for several months. It drew adherents to the opposition. "It provided waverers with a comparatively innocent method of resistance."[10] It left an easy loophole for escape in case the pressure at Rome became too strong. It gave its advocates immunity from graver accusations, to which they would be liable if the doctrine were decreed. It would be safer afterwards to be able to plead, "I did not assert its falsity, I only thought it inopportune."

But however much the plea of the inopportune might increase at the beginning the party's numerical strength, it involved it ultimately and fundamentally in the most incurable weakness. The plea of inopportunism is in the long-run an untenable plea. As Quirinus says:—

"A minority may be invincible on the ground of dogma, but not on that of expediency. Everything can be ventured to oppose a false doctrine, but not to hinder an imprudent or premature definition of a truth."[11]

It laid them open to Manning's retort, "When was it ever inopportune to proclaim the truth?" It was the acid of such criticism which dissolved the apparent unity of the opposition. For it challenged the minority to say outright whether they believed the doctrine or denied its truth. And to do the latter in Rome under such conditions was no easy thing. Here was the fatal weakness by which the opposition came to grief. We may wonder what might have been the course of events had the opposition taken the bolder and stronger line.

Dupanloup knew perfectly that the publication of these searching criticisms on the doctrine proposed involved nothing less than the sacrifice of his popularity among the entire Ultramontane section of his Church. That however he could bear with comparative equanimity. Popularity had come to him: he never sought it. But what distressed him greatly was that his action would sadden Pius IX. True that the Bishop expressly confined himself to the question of opportunism, and that he pledged himself beforehand to accept the Council's decisions, whatever those decisions might be. Nevertheless, in his memorable words, "I go as a judge and a witness of the faith," he had formulated a conception of the episcopal function which was not only ancient and world-wide, but irreconcilable with the theory of Papal Infallibility.

It was Dupanloup's great desire to be supported by Newman's teaching and authority; and to be accompanied by him as his theologian at the Council in Rome. Newman, however, says Thureau Dangin,[12] declined a proposal which he felt would displease Pius IX. But the Bishop had Newman's perfect sympathy. The clergy of the diocese sent him assurances of loyal devotedness. Montalembert wrote in fervid terms of admiration. And Gratry's famous incisive letters on the controversy added much to the intellectual support of Dupanloup's work.

Dupanloup's public declaration of opposition roused on every side the strongest emotions. Louis Veuillot, journalist, the extreme of Ultramontanes, editor of the Univers, declared this attack to be "most unexpected, and more important than any, owing to the position of its author."[13] It was to his mind much more serious than the efforts of Döllinger. The Catholic Bishop had provided poisonous arguments for an infidel press. Dupanloup penned impulsively a vigorous and impassioned reply, in which he applied to the journalist the title given in the Apocalypse to Satan—the accuser of the brethren. He could have tolerated Veuillot's personalities, but not his doctrinal exaggerations. From dogmatic assertions of the crudest extremest kind, which had appeared in his pages during the previous year, the Bishop selected the following examples: Veuillot declared that Ecumenical Councils never had so much authority as the Decrees of the Holy See. Dupanloup asks whether that applies to the Nicene proclamation of the Divinity of Christ. Veuillot misinterpreted the text "Lo, I am with you always"—you collectively (for it is in the plural) into you singular—that is, "you, the Pope." He further declared that when the Pope thought God thought in him; that the Pope represented God on earth; that to the Pope applied the text, "This is my God and I will praise Him, my Father's God, and I will glorify Him." Veuillot further declared that God would stone the human race with the debris of the Vatican.

Whether one who perpetrated these eccentricities of doctrine and interpretation and prediction could be trusted as a qualified exponent of Catholic truth was to Dupanloup more than manifest. But nevertheless Veuillot was in France an accredited leader of the Ultramontanes, a fervid champion of Papal Infallibility.

Dupanloup's courageous attitude enlisted the devoted admiration of opponents of Papal Infallibility. No one testifies to this more forcibly than Montalembert. Montalembert—who curiously combined a profound belief in mediæval legend with the advanced opinions of the liberal politician, denying the Church's right to employ coercive measures, which Rome maintains, yet advocating vigorously the temporal claims of the Papacy—was a Catholic of the ancient type: the born antagonist of the modern Ultramontane, while yielding to none in devotion to the Roman See. But his admiration for Dupanloup's outspoken words was unbounded.

"No doubt," wrote Montalembert, "you greatly admire the Bishop of Orleans, but you would admire him vastly more if you could realise the depth into which the French clergy has sunk. It exceeds anything which would have been considered possible in the days when I was young. … Of all the strange events which the history of the Church presents, I know none which equals or surpasses this rapid and complete transformation of Catholic France into a vestibule of the antechambers of the Vatican."[14]

4. To Dupanloup's support came Gratry, priest of the Oratory, member of the Academy, Professor of Moral Theology at the Sorbonne. Gratry is certainly one of the most attractive personalities of the period. A refined and beautiful character, tender and sympathetic; he combined, as a contemporary acknowledged,[15] the imagination of a poet with the gifts of a metaphysician.

Gratry's famous letters attacked the Ultramontanes on the historical side. It is manifestly essential to the Infallibilist position that no solitary instance should be produced of a Pope officially defending heresy. Gratry therefore took the case of Honorius. "Heretical he cannot be," said the Ultramontane, as represented by Manning. "And yet," replies Gratry, "he was condemned as such by three Ecumenical Councils in succession."

Here is the language of the first of these:—

Anathema to the heretic Cyrus.
Anathema to the heretic Honorius.
Anathema to the heretic Pyrrhus.

Two other Ecumenical Councils repeated this condemnation of Honorius. The solemn profession of faith recited by successive Popes for centuries on the day of their election repeated this condemnation. It was mentioned in all the Roman Breviaries until the sixteenth century. Then a significant change took place. The name of Honorius disappears. They have simply suppressed his condemnation. These things are now said otherwise, "for the sake of brevity"! The Liber Diurnus contained the papal profession of faith. "As Pope Honorius is condemned in the profession of faith of the new Pontiffs," says Cardinal Bona, "it is better not to publish this work." "That is to say" exclaims Gratry, "behold a fact which overwhelms us. Let us prevent its being known."

The maxim that truth may be suppressed in the interests of religion roused Gratry's boundless indignation. Gratry himself had heard an Italian Prelate defend on this principle the condemnation of Galileo.

"Yes, undoubtedly," said the Bishop, "Galileo was right, and his judges knew perhaps that he was right; that he had discovered the true laws of astronomy: but at that time this too dangerous truth would have scandalised the faithful. This is the reason they condemned him, and they did right."

Gratry's strenuous protest is worth recording:—

"Had then the Catholic religion—had the Word of God—need of this monstrous imposture in a solemn judgment? O ye men of little faith, of low minds, of miserable hearts, have not your cunning devices become the scandal of souls? The very day that the grand science of Nature dawned upon the world, you condemned it. Be not astonished if men, before pardoning you, expect of you a confession, penitence, profound contrition, and reparation for your fault."

The omission from the Roman Prayer Book of historic facts acknowledged until the sixteenth century was, to Gratry's mind, an equally miserable illustration of indefensible principles. "Never was there in history a more audacious forgery, a more insolent suppression of the weightiest facts." The systematic suppression of facts antagonistic to the Pope's absolute sovereignty and separate Infallibility ought, urged Gratry, to prevent us from proclaiming before God and man theories supported by such a method.

"This was the reason that Dupanloup had spoken. From God he will receive his reward. And all those who, notwithstanding these arguments and these facts, are bold enough to go further and pronounce judgment in the dark, will have to render an account before the tribunal of God. Absolute certainty is here a necessity. For the smallest doubt here demands by Divine right the most rigorous forbearance."

Louis Veuillot, the journalist, editor of L'Univers, criticised Gratry with an inimitable mixture of worldly wisdom, insolent banter, and pious resignation.[16] He had fondly hoped that Gratry's friends, either by piety or prudence, would have diverted him from an enterprise which could only issue in odium or ridicule. However, needs must that offences come. To deny Infallibility in presence of a Council met to proclaim the unvarying faith of the Church, to deny it by attacks on the Prayer Book, was a masterpiece among mistakes. Nobody ever accused Gratry of possessing any ecclesiastical learning or independent power. Loss of faith explains many things. Needs must that offences come. As to the contents of the book, it was Janus réchauffé. Gratry would never convince the human mind with his Protestant, Gallican, free-thinking ideas. Gratry is described as being as innocent as a new-born babe, as having studied nothing, read nothing, but passionately advocating what others have told him. And yet this innocence is surprising in an Academician, formerly of the Oratory, author of a book on logic. This innocent is, moreover, a priest. Strangers have brought him papers which say that his Mother has told him lies; and he takes them for angels and believes them. But Gratry is also a mathematician; and all mathematicians have some curious twist in the brain. Just as Laplace the mathematician had no need of the hypothesis of God in his world, so Gratry the mathematician has no need of the hypothesis of the Pope in his conception of the Church. Gratry ought to have submitted these angels who instructed him to the test of holy water. We know these angels of his. One of them is called Janus. That serpent has deceived the dove. Gratry has taken Germanism for science—just as it came from Germany. Inaccurate mathematician! Incurable infancy!

So Veuillot railed and ridiculed. And Veuillot obtained letters of papal approval for his defence of the faith.

Gratry's four letters were read with avidity through France; they were circulated in Rome, and translated into English. Four editions appeared in a single year. They roused the keenest emotions on either side. They were denounced. They were applauded. Meantime the shrewd observer wondered what the end would be, should this controverted opinion become translated into the province of necessary belief.[17] Episcopal condemnations were freely issued. The Archbishop of Mechlin descended to personalities, recommending Gratry to confine his attention to philosophy, and to cease to scandalise Christendom with erroneous ideas and outrages against the Holy See. Another Bishop wrote in terms which show how profoundly men's passions were stirred, that the Bishop of Orleans, secretly acting with an ability worthy of a better cause, had only too successfully roused both cultured and popular circles, disturbed the high regions of diplomacy, and attacked the hopes and convictions of the Catholic world. Döllinger, Maret, and Dupanloup were a triumvirate of agitators, to whom was now added that insulter of the Roman Church, the Abbé Gratry.[18] The Oratory, anxious for its safety, repudiated all connection with its former associate.[19] The unfortunate priest was the victim of the grossest attacks and suspicions. A few—but very few—ventured openly to support him. The Hungarian Prelate, Strossmayer,[20] had the courage to strengthen him. Strossmayer had read Gratry's defence of Dupanloup with the greatest joy. Fervid indiscretion was bringing the gravest perils upon the Church, and the crisis called for the most energetic resistance. May Gratry go on and prosper! But such Episcopal encouragements were few.

On the other hand, the Bishop of Strasburg endeavoured to suppress the circulation in the usual mediæval way. He condemned the letters of Gratry as containing false propositions, scandalous, insulting to the Holy Roman Church, opening the way to errors already condemned, rash, and bordering upon heresy. He prohibited the reading, circulating, or possession of these letters either by clergy or faithful in his diocese."[21]

5. Montalembert, ruined though he was in health by an incurable malady, was roused by this reticence among the men who secretly approved, and came to Gratry's support. "Since the strong do not support their own champion," said Montalembert, "the sick must needs rise from their beds and speak."[22]

"I venture to say that you will not find … in my … speeches or writings a single word in conformity with the doctrines or pretensions of the Ultramontanes of the present day; and that for an excellent reason—which is, that nobody had thought of advocating them or raising them, during the period between my entrance into public life and the advent of the Second Empire. Never, thank Heaven, have I thought, said, or written anything favourable to the personal and separate Infallibility of the Pope such as men seek to impose upon us."[23]

"How was it possible," wrote Montalembert,"to foresee in 1847 that the Liberalism of Pius IX., welcomed as it was by Liberals everywhere, would ever become the pontificate represented and embodied in such journals as the Univers and the Civilta? Who could possibly anticipate the triumph of the theologian-advocates of absolute power; the novel Ultramontanism, which, began by destroying our liberties and traditional ideas, and closes by sacrificing justice and truth, reason and history, wholesale before the idol which they have enstated in the Vatican?"[24]

If this word "idol" appears too strong, Montalembert would appeal to a letter written to him by Mgr. Sibour, Archbishop of Paris, in 1853.

"The new Ultramontane School," wrote Archbishop Sibour, "involves us in a double idolatry—an idolatry of the temporal power, and an idolatry of the spiritual. When, like myself, you made strong profession of Ultramontanism, you did not understand things so. We maintained the independence of the spiritual power against the exaggerated claims of the temporal. But we respected the constitution of the State and of the Church. We did not abolish all grades of power, all ranks, all reasonable discussion, all lawful resistance, all individuality, all freedom. The Pope and the Emperor were not respectively the Church and the State.

"Undoubtedly there are occasions when the Pope can act independently of all regulations designed for ordinary procedure; occasions when his power is as extensive as the needs of the Church. … The older Ultramontanes were aware of this, but they did not convert an exception into a rule. The new Ultramontanes have pushed everything to extremes, and have argued extravagantly against all independence, whether in the State or in the Church.

"If such systems were not calculated to compromise the deepest interests of religion in the present, and still more in the future, one might silently despise them. But when one forecasts the evils which they will bring upon us, it is hard to be silent and to submit. You have, therefore, done well, sir, to condemn them."

Montalembert's abandonment of the Ultramontanes is strikingly described by Ollivier, the head of the Government in France. According to Ollivier, what Montalembert sought in the Ultramontane propaganda was simply the removal of civil constraints and the liberty of the Church. But when men sought to impose upon him the Infallibilist doctrines of Joseph de Maistre, whose work he had commended without understanding, he found that he had unconsciously promoted the very opinions which he abhorred. The absolute monarchy of the Pope he simply disbelieved and rejected. Yet he saw the forces which he had inspired with enthusiastic devotion to the Papacy advancing the doctrine of Papal Infallibility. Therefore he gathered what strength remained, on his dying bed, in a final protest against any such decree. He was permitted to die before experiencing the necessity to submit—Felix opportunitate mortis.[25]

Pius IX.'s own estimate of Montalembert was very severe. He described him, after his death, as only half a Catholic, whose mortal enemy was pride.

The Italian historian of the Vatican Council, Cecconi, Archbishop of Florence, is more just. Cecconi says that those who knew the deeply Catholic sentiments of Montalembert, unfortunately entangled though they were with magnificent Utopias on liberty, will not credit him with uncatholic extremes. He rendered to the Church most signal services. If he was sometimes deceived, this was due, not to want of intelligence, but of theological learning. When the alternative lay between liberty and religion, he did not hesitate. "I love liberty more than all the world," he said, "and religion more than liberty." When asked what he would do if Infallibility were defined, he answered without hesitation, "I should submit." "But how would you reconcile your ideas with such a definition?" "I should impose silence on my reasonings. If my difficulties remained, assuredly the good God does not order me to understand, but simply to submit, as I do to other dogmas." Such was an Italian estimate.[26]

Dupanloup reached Rome. He found himself, preceded by a mass of hateful incriminations and ridiculous calumnies.[27] He was said in English Roman papers to be in league with Napoleon against the Holy See.

Dupanloup's generous nature was profoundly wounded. To the clergy of the diocese who expressed their loyal sympathy with him, he replied:—

"You see a Bishop who, during a life already long, has given manifest proofs of his devotion to the Church and to the Holy See; but who, because one day in a momentous question he has said what he believed to be the true interest of religion and of the Papacy, becomes suddenly the object of all the insults and indignities against which you protest: so far has passion prevailed where it ought not to exist. But what does it matter? There are in life hours marked out for grave and painful duties."[28]

Dupanloup's house in Rome became a centre of activity for the Bishops of the minority. He was the animating spirit of the French opposition, while Darboy, Archbishop of Paris, was the controlling influence.[29] The French Episcopate possessed no unity, and quickly divided into two opposing parts. Endeavours were made to hold them together. But the two French Cardinals represented contrary opinions. Cardinal Mathieu, Archbishop of Besançon, was a member of the opposition. But his conduct manifested a lack of qualities essential to a leader. Cardinal Bonnechose, Archbishop of Rouen, on the contrary, was a decided Ultramontane. And Pius placed him on the important Committee of Suggestions. So the two Cardinals pulled different ways. When Cardinal Mathieu laboured to unite the Bishops of the French Church, Cardinal Bonnechose adroitly consulted Antonelli, who, acting on the maxim "divide and conquer," advised that the Pope was opposed to meetings of larger numbers than fifteen or twenty. Cardinal Mathieu consequently left Rome in disgust, and went to spend Christmas in Besançon. However, in spite of great discouragements, an international committee of the opposition Episcopate was formed, which materially strengthened their forces.

  1. Guillermin, p. 124.
  2. 26th October 1865.
  3. Eight Months at Rome, Appendix, p. 268.
  4. Cecconi, iii. p. 187.
  5. By Emile Ollivier.
  6. May 1869.
  7. Maret, Le Concile, ii. p. 9.
  8. Letters from Rome, p. 255.
  9. Nardi in Cecconi, iv. p. 544.
  10. Letters from Rome, p. 255.
  11. Page 256.
  12. Correspondant, 10th February 1906.
  13. Cecconi, iv. p. 483.
  14. Lord Acton, Vatican Council, p. 58.
  15. Baunard, Hist. Card. Pie, p. 371.
  16. Louis Veuillot, Rome pendant le Concile, p. 156.
  17. Cf. Ollivier, ii. p. 57.
  18. Acta, p. 1425.
  19. Acta, p. 1382.
  20. Ibid. p. 1383.
  21. Ibid. p. 1393 (February 1870).
  22. Ollivier, ii. p. 63.
  23. Montalembert's letter, Acta Vatican Council, p. 1358.
  24. Acta, p. 1386 (February 1870).
  25. Ollivier, i. p. 451.
  26. Cecconi, ii. p. 445. Cf. Foisset, C. de Montalembert, p. 103.
  27. Lagrange, iii. p. 152. Cf. Tablet (1869).
  28. Ibid. p. 153.
  29. Lagrange, iii. p. 156