Chapter XIV

The Eve of the Council--Rejoicings--Rome the Universal Fatherland--Veuillot's Joy--Processions--Symbolic Sunbeams--the Joybells--The Vision of St. Ambrose--The Disfranchisement of Kings.

The _Civiltá_ described how, in beholding prelates daily arrive, the joy of Rome rose higher and higher; joy resembling but surpassing that of the great events of 1854, 1862, and 1867. Not only prelates came, but champions of the sword, the pen, and the tribune, ready to face the world in the cause of the Pope-King. Count Henri de Riancey begs pardon of Rome for indulging, at such a moment, in a word for France. Yet his heart does not turn to France, except on account of what she has done for the Pope.

Let Rome, the fatherland of all fatherlands, permit to us this
flash of patriotism. It is France which has the honour of guarding
the last fragments of the pontifical dominions ... She has loved
righteousness; and that is the reason why she is anointed with the
oil of gladness above her fellows (_Frond_, vol. i. p. xix.).

Poor France! that love of righteousness, which had made her slay so many Italians to keep up the temporal power, was not to avert from her, "in the year of the Council," a baptism other than that of the oil of gladness.

Ordinary Christians would not catch the reference in the above quotation. To them, "loving righteousness," especially when connected with the person of the Messiah, is not identified with, but in holy opposition to, the idea of setting Christian ministers in rank before secular princes, and in power above kings. But "He loved righteousness and hated iniquity" stands upon the tomb of Hildebrand, who sought to establish the "dominion of Christ," the "kingdom of God," the "reign of righteousness," or as many similar expressions as you please, by subjecting all the kings of the earth to the Priest of God. Pius IX is frequently spoken of as the founder of the lordship of the Pope over the whole earth in the future, as Hildebrand was the founder of his lordship over it in the past. Therefore the sweetness felt by a good Ultramontane in connecting the two together.

I am bewildered with joy, cried M. Veuillot. I try to depict that
joy, to swim in life. There is an unspeakable gladness in men's
souls. People feel an aurora. I picked up a number of journals,
and was going to answer a lively article against myself, in the
_Gazette de France_; but the author has no idea how all his
eloquence falls short of a man who, in one and the same day, has
seen Pius IX, Rome, and the Sun.

Pius IX had not admitted M. Veuillot to kiss the sacred foot for merely literary service. The devoted advocate laid at the feet he kissed three thousand pounds in money, collected, through his paper, for the expenses of the Council. M. Veuillot scolds M. Taine grandly, for having made some comparison between Rome and Paris--Paris, stretching from the field of Pantin on one side, to the Follies Belleville on the other; and Rome, which has no limits but those of the world, and does not accept those--Paris, which gives birth to M. Rochefort; and Rome, which directs the nineteenth OEcumenical Council! Had M. Taine seen Rome yesterday, full of processions of all colours, and bishops of all countries, he would have said it was more lovely than Paris.

The processions of all colours were no fancy stroke. Nine days of solemn service in honour of the approaching anniversary of the Immaculate, and at the same time of the Council, gave an opportunity of showing to strangers all the confraternities of Rome. They marched to the various basilicas, especially to St. Peter's; the ostensible object being to worship the sacred relics which, with uncommon magnificence, were exposed to their veneration.

The clergy of all lands saw and were seen with wonder and delight. "When therefore," said Eusebius, speaking of Nicaea, "the Emperor's order was brought into all the provinces, persons set out as if for some goal, and ran with all imaginable alacrity, for the hope of good things drew them, and the participation of peace, and lastly a new miracle, to wit, the sight of so great an Emperor."[192] Dr. Friedrich does not express himself so prettily as Eusebius on the appearance of the assembled clergy. The Asiatic cries, "And one city received them all, as it were some vast garland of priests, made up of a variety of beautiful flowers." The Bavarian says, "The clergy of every country have sent a strong contingent, from the proud monsignore to the dirtiest village priest."

The importance of sunny weather for public events, great everywhere, is perhaps exaggerated in Rome. Pius IX is believed to be peculiarly susceptible to sunbeams. Three of his most memorable days are, by his adorers, connected with a sunburst which shone for him especially. Professor Massi relates how, on the day of his taking "possession," the _apostolic cortège_ followed the "brilliant carriage" of the new Pope from the Via Sacra up the Coelian Hill, the Cardinals being mounted on "steeds richly adorned"--doubtless worthy to be compared with those Sicilian steeds which bore Gregory the Great, of whose stud Gregorovius soberly says, "We scarcely doubt but that Pindar would have thought the apostolic horses worthy of an ode."[193] The day was overcast--which omen had a damping effect--but just as the new Pope approached the Lateran, a glorious rainbow spanned the east, gladdening all with the certainty of a reign of peace. In like manner, Professor Massi tells of that proud April evening when the Pontiff, after a long exile, once more looked down upon the earth from his own Olympus. The clerical writers do not exactly call it heaven, but content themselves with speaking of the figure of the Pope so exalted, as "standing between earth and heaven," or as a spectacle which reminds us of the Divinity (_Frond_, p. 16). The secularizing of sacred terms, till we come down to "apostolic cortèges" and "apostolic horses," and the materializing of spiritual terms, till "the kingdom of Christ," sometimes means the temporal power, is a process which must go on until the heaven of the materialized imagination will be levelled to the height of the noblest dome, and to the beauties of the best decorator. The peerless piazza of St. Peter's was, on the day in question, filled with French uniforms. At the foot of the great staircase rose a platform covered with purple, and decked with flying banners. The heavens, all day covered with clouds, suddenly turned azure, and the setting sun poured his beams on the dome of Michael Angelo, on the cross of the Obelisk, and on the statues which adorn the Colonnade, just as Pius IX "raised his paternal hand to bless the arms which had avenged his throne." The third day on which the sun shone expressly for Pius IX has been already mentioned, that of the Immaculate Conception.

It was not only, as some say, the nuns, but also priests and _littérateurs_ who took it as both indispensable and certain that St. Peter's should be bathed in the brightest gold the skies could send on the day which was to unite three glories--the anniversary of the Immaculate, the opening of the General Council, and the probable acclamation of Pius IX as infallible.

On December 7, when the midday gun was fired from St. Angelo's, a peal of joybells rang out from more than four hundred churches. From the distant Coelian came the deep note of the Lateran, floating over Coliseum and Capitol; from the Esquiline came that of Santa Maria Maggiore, floating over the Quirinal. These two met the boom of St. Peter's swinging across the Tiber, and, blending with it, formed, in that sea of sound, a rolling base for the billows, on whose crests every variety of bell-note clashed and sparkled. Far beyond the gates, the lone and beautiful St. Paul's lifted up its voice, as if bidding the untilled plains to tell the unfrequented shore that there was joy in the cloister capital.

Hints from Jesuit pens lead us to see some of the Order standing on the Janiculum, by S. Pietro in Montorio, drinking in the view of the renowned panorama, while the impressions of years would be brought to a focus by the sensations of a moment. Every thrill would be taken either for a proof or a promise. Things done by the Order were being glorified, things to be done were being assured by the voice of many churches. Before memory would rise the figures of Hildebrand, Dominic, Ignatius, illuminated by the imagination of the past. Before hope would rise the figure of the new Hildebrand, with his now unlimited sceptre, and new Loyolas and Dominics, illuminated by the imagination of the future. Other German Henrys would be seen standing in penance, other English Johns signing away their supremacy: and surely if at Ingolstadt the Order had trained a Ferdinand II, another could now be trained, and the Virgin and St. Ignatius would not fail to raise up a more successful Tilly, and a more faithful Wallenstein. "Be wise now therefore, O ye kings; be instructed, ye judges of the earth," would seem ringing with articulate speech from the tongue of every bell.

As the _Ave Maria_ sounded in the sunset, the guns of S. Angelo saluted the happy eve. The Pope rode in state to the Church of the Twelve Apostles, and the crowd lined the entire way. The Jesuit writers heard enthusiastic cheers at every point. Some partial illuminations were attempted, but the weather was unfavourable. This, however, damped not the spirits of any one, for there was to be a glorious illumination on the morrow, when the rain was bound to cease. M. Veuillot, buoyant as were his spirits, admitted that, with all his love for Rome, he could not deny that it rains there in winter. But hope was exulting, enthusiasm unbounded. The preparation of ideas had, it was thought, done its work; the restoration of facts was now not far off. The _Civiltá_ asks, Did ever Council meet under such a Pope, with his graces and his virtues, his rich experience, his burden of palms won in incessant victories over the enemies of Christ; the restorer of the hierarchy in two nations, the founder of many dioceses; the conqueror of the fallacies, hypocrisies, and fraudulence of the politicasters of our day, the glorifier of the Virgin, who "sensibly" covers him with her mantle, and takes delight in twining roses with the thorns whereof the tiara that crowns him is altogether composed?[194] The words of a French layman equal those of the Italian Jesuit. It is again the Count Henri de Riancey who cries, "The Father of the Fathers, Sovereign Pontiff of the Bishops, refuge of the bishops; he is the Universal Patriarch, the Prefect of the house of God, the Guardian of the vineyard of the Lord. He it is who confirms the faith of Christians; he is Abraham in his patriarchate, Melchisedek in order, Moses in authority, Samuel in jurisdiction, Peter in power, Christ in unction" (_Frond_, i. p. xxx.).

It was St. Ambrose's day. M. Veuillot, in imagination, saw the saint "appear on the threshold on which the eyes of the human species are fixed, full of hope," But M. Veuillot seldom meets with a saint, dead or living, but a political end soon appears. This was, he cries, a felicitous rencounter. What made it so? When Ambrose had become bishop, he excommunicated the Emperor Theodosius for the crime of inhumanity. His image in this act is to M. Veuillot evidently the prototype of Pius IX leaving the kings out of the Council. But it is one thing to refuse the Communion, which was open for the humblest believer, to the greatest potentate alive, because his word has wantonly handed his subjects over to death; and it is another thing to refuse to all believers in existence a place, even as hearers, in the chamber where new laws binding them and their children for ever are to be decreed.

The scene at Milan, and that at St. Peter's, similar to the ardent Ultramontane, would strike us rather by contrast. On the former threshold we see a Christian pastor guarding the Lord's Table. On the latter, a king, and an aspirant after universal political supremacy, guarding the secret of his own counsels. Outside the Milan threshold we see one sinner in purple, while the common Christians are free to approach. Outside the Vatican are all members of Churches whom the king in purple and scarlet acknowledges as members of his own Church. The people are disfranchised with the princes at their head. The priests had long been losing their franchise in the election of their bishops. More recently they had been losing their freehold in their parishes. When the Jesuits obtained possession of Pius IX, the parish priest had a life interest in his parish subject to good behaviour. But this formed too much of a tie to the nation. The parochial clergy had to be mobilized. So, gradually, they had been put into berths only by temporary appointment, and held the place _ad nutum_, at the nod of the bishop. They had been glad that the sword _in the hand_ of the king should not be in his power, but at the nod of the priest. It was scarcely so pleasant that the parish, in the hand of the priest, should be at the nod of the bishop. The making of it so had already to a large extent been accomplished. It was now to be completed; but those tyrannous kings might attempt to check the move by what they would call protecting the lower clergy, what the Vatican would call destroying the liberty of the Church.

The whole spirit of the Jesuit Press at this period indicated that the Modern State had so wearied out the Vatican that the only chance for kings to make their peace with it would lie in separating their cause from that of parliaments and constitutions. If they meant to be tolerated long after the Council, they must not only reign but govern--govern Catholic States under the Syllabus. A ruler by divine right--which among the baptized means one instituted by the Pope and corrected by him--is the essence of the matter. "THE POPE AND THE PEOPLE!" is the last exclamation of M. Veuillot, on the eve of the day when the nations were to come to judgment--on the eve of the day when the salutary conspiracy recommended by the _Civiltá_ with its first breath was to hold its crowning conclave, when the holy Crusade, heralded with the same breath, was to receive both its legal warrant and its world-wide impulse. A triumphal arch was to mark the completion of a stage of toil and the entrance upon a stage of transformation. "THE POPE AND THE PEOPLE. I believe that these words are invisibly written on the door of this Vatican Council, which door forms the entrance to a _new world_; rather is it a triumphal arch erected on the rediscovered highway of the human race."[195]

That triumphal arch and that rediscovered way of the human species which, to M. Veuillot, made the entrance to the Vatican Council sublime, invested it, to the eyes of Liberal Catholics, with clouds of doubtful omen. The triumph vaunted was real and even stupendous, but it was a triumph over the principles in the name of which Liberal Catholics had fought and won the battles of the Church. The rediscovered way was no other than the broad road of clerical dominion over spiritual and temporal things which, in the ages before the Reformation, had led the Church down to a degree of corruption now denied by none--a broad road, which had since then been swept and mended, but to which had in the meantime been added the countless sidepaths of Jesuit morals. If all those sidepaths should by authority be opened for the winding and the straying of human guile and passion, what would the Catholic nations come to? Studious Liberal Catholics were aware of the two sides of the Jesuit system of morals, whereof Protestants generally were cognizant only of one. These knew, indeed, that a lawful end renders the means to it lawful; but Liberal Catholics knew that it was also taught that an unlawful end did not infect with guilt the means by which it had been reached, provided only that in themselves those means consisted of acts not necessarily unlawful. Thus on both sides--that of seeking a lawful end by unlawful means, and that of employing lawful means for an unlawful end--was the gate made wider, the road broader, and the way more smooth for guile to creep or passion to roll downward, but attended all along by the comforts of absolution, and sprinkled with holy water.[196]

And as to the new world to which the Council was to be an entrance, Liberal Catholics had seen the Pope's special _college of writers_, in the _Civiltá_, dwell upon the act whereby Alexander VI drew a line from pole to pole, and gave to Spain all regions that should be discovered to the west of it, and to Portugal all those that should be discovered to the east of it; and contend that the Pope, in saying of those regions, I _give_, _concede_, and _assign_ them to this king and to that, acted simply as the Vicar of Christ; nay, that by that act the autonomy of the Indians was not in the least offended; and that, moreover, what in the jargon of infidel and of heretics was called the pretensions of Rome, was nothing else but the exercise of a clear and sublime right, resorted to by the Pope in seeking a solid protection, in new countries, for the autonomy of nations and of individuals, when otherwise, to the offence of religion, it might have been violated by barbarians.[197] But was this supreme power to dispose by sentence of the lot of nations, even though unknown, without in so doing offending in the least against their rights, to be exalted into eternal dogma? If so, and if mankind would endure it, well might the door of the Council be regarded as the entrance to a new world. But whether future ages will reckon it as the entrance to a new world or not, we are about to see that it was indeed the entrance to an arena on which was to be witnessed a process of revolution from above and a struggle of priest with priest,--a process as instructive, a struggle as curious, as any that our age has produced, among its many transformations of polity and redistributions of power.

FOOTNOTES:

[Footnote 192: _Life of Const._, lib. iii. cap. 6.]

[Footnote 193: _Geschichte der Stadt Rom._ ii. p. 60.]

[Footnote 194: Serie VII. vol. ix. p. 21.]

[Footnote 195: Vol. i. p. 14.]

[Footnote 196: See Gury, especially his _Casus Conscientiæ_. A small duodecimo _Doctrina Moralis Jesuitarum_ (Celle, 1874), gives copious extracts from Jesuit authors with a German translation. For the English reader, Mr. Cartwright's work on the Jesuits supplies a good outline.]

[Footnote 197: VI. i. 662-80.]

_BOOK III_

_FROM THE OPENING OF THE COUNCIL TO THE INTRODUCTION OF THE QUESTION OF INFALLIBILITY_