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FOOTNOTES:

[74] Acton's Zur Geschichte, pp. 13, 14.

[75] Acta (Freiburg edition), p. 35.

[76] Acta (Freiburg edition), p. 33.

[77] Centenary of St. Peter, p. 5.

[78] Serie VII. vol. vii. p. 587.

[79] Acta (Freiburg edition), p. 34.

[80] Centenary of St. Peter, pp. 12, 13.

[81] Acta (Freiburg edition), p. 36.

[82] Frond, i, p. 82.

[83] Eusebius' Life of Constantine, lib. ii. c. 5.

[84] Serie VII. vol. vii. p. 23.

[85] Zur Geschichte, p. 4.

[86] Serie VI. vol. xi. p. 165.

[87] Ibid. p. 234.

[88] Centenary of St. Peter, pp. 33, 34.

[89] The Select Speeches of O'Connell. Edited by his son, 1862. P. 447.

[90] Life prefixed to the Lives of the Saints, vol. i. p. 14. Ed. of 1836.

[91] Centenary of St. Peter, p. 38.

[92] Ibid. p. 34.

[93] Centenary of St. Peter, p. 95.

[94] Vaticanism, p. 155.

CHAPTER II

Six Secret Commissions preparing—Interrupted by Garibaldi—A Code for the Relations of the Church and Civil Society—Special Sitting with Pope and Antonelli to decide on the Case of Princes—Tales of the Crusaders—English Martyrs—Children on the Altar—Autumn of 1867 to June 1868.

While in the provinces the bishops were kindling enthusiasm for the coming assembly, and for the movement of reconstruction in general, in Rome six Commissions were at work, under the Directing Congregation, making secret preparations for the Council. Each of these Commissions had of course a Cardinal at its head. The first, that for Theology, was under Cardinal Bilio, a monk, and a native of Piedmont, only forty years of age, and but lately raised to the purple.[95] Rightly or wrongly, as Vitelleschi says, he is credited with the principal share in the preparation of the Syllabus. Others, however, are named for the same honour. We ourselves heard a member of the original Congregation for the preparation of the Syllabus assert that it was Passaglia who first suggested it. Passaglia was a great Jesuit theologian, who lost position by declaring against the temporal power. The second Commission, for Ecclesiastico-Political Affairs, was under Cardinal Reisach, a man of sixty-five, an accomplished Bavarian, but so denationalized in manner and spirit, that his countrymen sometimes accused him of affecting to have almost forgotten German. For some years he left Rome to hold high place in his native country. As Archbishop of Munich he did much to supplant the old national faith by the Vatican one, and to unsettle the previously existing relations of Church and State. Under his eye the popular catechism of Canisius was changed. The answer, "The Pope by himself is not infallible," had done good service for centuries; but now it had to make way for a new one; and eventually the whole book was transformed by the French Jesuit Deharbe.[96]

The Commission next in importance was that on Ceremonies. If the theological one had to formulate the principles on which the world was to be governed, and the ecclesiastico-political one had to draft the rules and frame the executive machinery by which those principles were to be carried out, the Commission on ceremonies had to devise the scenic effects with which the movement should, to use a frequent expression of Roman, French, and even of German Catholic writers, be put upon the stage—the mise en scène.

Oriental Affairs, the Religious Orders, and Ecclesiastical Discipline, were the subjects committed to the other three Commissions.

A seventh, of which the official history makes no mention, was, according to Vitelleschi (p. 26), an object of great public attention. It was for Biblical matters, and the revision of the Index. Its President was Cardinal de Luca. But it inclined to a more liberal procedure in regard to the Index, gave offence, and after a few meetings, was discontinued. The official organs, as the same author says, buried it in oblivion, though its labours were of great public interest.

The renewed preparations had not proceeded long before they were once more interrupted by political events. From August to December the Directing Congregation could hold no meeting. General Dumont had been sent back to Rome, by Napoleon III, to inspect and harangue those French soldiers who now formed a principal part of the so-called Pontifical, or Œcumenical army. The national Italian party was excited by his presence and his speech. France forced them to feel that foreign occupation was discontinued only in name. Garibaldi, supported only by feeble forces, moved upon Rome with the reckless valour which had succeeded in Sicily. The movements of the Italian Government to restrain him were altogether inefficacious. The efficiency and zeal of the little army of "Crusaders" had been utterly underrated by the Italians. The Dutch, English, Swiss, German, and French youths who fought for the Crown of martyrdom were a different material from the soldiers of Ferdinand or from those of the old Papal corps. They faced great odds, and did right daring deeds. But they were too few. The ready French were once more called in. On November 3 they secured for Pius IX another respite by the battle of Mentana; but the Pope's own historian does not even name the French. For all that is said by Cecconi, not a foreign mercenary might have been in the Pontiff's pay, not a foreign regiment might have been sent to his relief. Indeed the word "foreigner," as applied to any baptized person bearing arms for the Pontiff, is offensive language—another fruit of this degenerate age. In opposition to certain "ill-advised" Catholics, who thought it a pity to have recourse to foreign arms, the Civiltá cries: "Foreigners?—the word is a great and odious lie! At Solferino the French were foreigners; at Mentana they were in their father's house."[97] So does the one belief that the Pope is the appointed lord of the world change the lights that fall on every national movement. We only saw the fact that at Solferino the French killed Teuton invaders of Italy, and that at Mentana they were the invaders who killed Italians. We shall find French mothers of "martyred" counts calling him for whom they fell, "our King."

When the lance of Garibaldi was thus, for the second time, shivered against the shield of France, who would have said that when next lifted it would be in her defence, after the armies that had for twenty years upheld the temporal power had gone into captivity?

The martial value of the religious motives and principles which animated the Crusaders, as contrasted with the Garibaldians, became a favourite theme for sacred pens. The Crusaders showed by their bearing that they were "conscious of serving the majesty of the God of battles." They lost no passing opportunity of renewing their strength at the altar.

The proud lads, in full equipment of war, bowed the knee before the altar, offered up their lives to God, and consecrated their bayonets to St. Peter; or hastily receiving the Sacrament, they arose with joy and seized their pieces, which had been laid down by the rails of the sacred table. Happy he who with his eyes beheld such elevation of thought, such constancy of purpose, such sanctity of Christian war march triumphantly through the Roman territory.[98]

On October 8, the correspondent of the Times at Berlin stated that Napoleon III had bound himself to leave Victor Emmanuel free as to Rome, provided the latter would help him in case of war with Prussia. Earlier than this, in the month of September, the Austrian bishops found themselves menaced with an abolition of the Concordat, and had to make a formal appeal to the Emperor against such a step.

"We have at this time of day," said Baron Weichs, "to decide whether we shall be an independent State, or whether, as in Japan, we shall have two sovereigns; the one, subordinate, residing at the Burg in Vienna; the other, the omnipotent Master, having his throne in Rome, at the Vatican, or, more properly speaking, at the Jesuit establishment."

The Revue des deux Mondes had spoken of these words as wise, even as very wise, and the Civiltá replied, "To us they seem to be nothing but buffoonery."[99]

In November, Napoleon III proposed that the European Powers should meet in a Congress, to decide upon some solution of the Roman question. After this proposal had failed, his Minister, M. Rouher, pronounced, in the Assembly, his celebrated "Never!"—the French would never permit Rome to be occupied by the Italians. This exclamation is often printed by the "good Press" in the largest capitals.

A fortnight after the day of Mentana the activity of the Commissions was resumed, and invitations were sent out to the theologians already selected in different countries, to come to Rome and enter on their labours. The Nuncio at Munich had not recommended any one from the renowned faculty of that city, but had sought his men at Würzburg. England was represented by Monsignor Weathers, and the United States by Monsignor Corcoran. On October 2, Cardinal Caterini wrote to Bishop Ullathorne of Birmingham, instructing him, in the Pope's name, to invite "the priest John Newman." Three weeks later the bishop replied, enclosing Dr. Newman's answer, which, however, is not printed. According to the bishop, Dr. Newman said that a journey to Rome would be perilous to his life, and though deeply touched with the kindness of the Holy Father, he believed that the latter would not desire him to come at the risk of his life, especially as nothing would be advanced by his presence in an august solemnity of such moment, unskilled as he was in matters of the sort.[100]

The language of Dr. Newman, as reported in this correspondence, shows that he had but faint light on the part which mere divines were to play in the Council. Probably he was misled by history into supposing that their part would be public and considerable. His place, had he gone, would have been upon an unseen commission; his share probably anything but an important one; and, as likely as not, his opinion might have been asked only in writing, and upon a question of Oriental affairs, instead of upon theology, as was that of his famous fellow oratorian Theiner. Of the very few German scholars invited to Rome who were not of the Jesuit school, one was Haneberg, who, according to Michelis, was so little consulted that he was soon back in Munich, to avoid idling away his time.

In March the Pope intimated his intention of issuing in June the Bull of Convocation; and then the purpled had to consider who should be summoned. The most serious doubt arose as to those useful fictions called bishops in partibus. They have much of what goes to make a bishop—the orders, robes, title, and consequence, everything but the office. Their want of this is delicately expressed by Cecconi—they have no determinate flock; which in lay language means no flock at all. The number of these Court followers have been so increased that Sepp illustrates the case by that of a government creating a batch of peers to carry some measure.

But such peers do not depend for their living on the men who want their votes. Even the Cardinals had not the courage to assert that creatures like these had a right to sit in the Council. They did raise the question of right, and left it formally unanswered; but their next question was, Is it expedient to invite them? They boldly affirmed that it was expedient.

In May 1868, it was decided that the only proceeding to be observed with respect to Catholic princes was that of communicating a copy of the Bull of Convocation to each Court. But should the princes be invited to attend? This question "was much debated among the purpled consulters, and was negatived."[101]

The decision thus taken was logical, for no one is a Catholic prince "as such" who does not place the law of his land under canon law; or, in proper language, who does not maintain "harmonious laws," recognizing politics as lying in the domain of morals, and therefore as being under the spiritual authority. When the controversy on the Syllabus began, the Civiltá had enjoyed a triumphant laugh at M. Langlais, a distinguished French advocate. M. Langlais had argued that the Encyclical would not have transgressed its proper boundary had it treated only of faith and morals, but that having touched the foundations of political institutions, it had transgressed that boundary. The Civiltá cried—

There exist then, according to M. Langlais, foundations of political institutions outside of the circle of morals! outside, consequently, of the circle of manners; or maybe, outside of the circle of human actions. … His argument assumes that the political order cannot be at the same time moral, or at least founded in the moral order, and assumes further that it must be separate from it, else he could not say that the Pope, simply by entering upon the political order, had gone out of the moral order (VI. i. 652–53).

It is not said that Antonelli in particular took alarm. But it is said that fears arose lest the "novelty" resolved upon should prove perilous; therefore the subject had to be reconsidered in the presence of the Secretary of State. The danger that might follow the brusque exclusion of princes was so felt that the former decision was on the point of being reversed. This shows Antonelli's ascendant. But his colleagues had a resource. Only six days before the date fixed for publishing the Bull, a special summons, not from Giannelli, but from Antonelli himself, called together the Commission at a quarter past eight o'clock in the evening, to a meeting to be held "in presence of the Most Holy" (coram sanctissimo)—i.e. before the Pope.[102]

Before the Most Holy! Thus are we placed in presence of the Eleven, and the kings are on their trial. The Nine are joined by the two men so dissimilar and so indissoluble, Pius IX and Antonelli, in whom, as an official biographer puts it, he early discerned "the man of God," appointed as his succour and stay in his divine office. At the head of the Eleven sits the portly, good-looking Pope, the beau-ideal of an important squire in a remote place—full of will, spirit, and self-confidence, with more art in governing than he has got credit for, at least in that domineering and deluding which avails with priests. He would be as hilarious as a squire who never put to death anything more precious than a pheasant, and never cursed even a gamekeeper with any intention that his curse should be bound in heaven.

Pius IX would now feel all the weight of his office. He was sitting as supreme Judge, to decide upon the claims of the kings of the earth. Were they worthy or were they not worthy to be received into the Council which was to lay "the corner-stone of reconstruction," the Council in which the prerogatives rightfully claimed by his predecessors of blessed memory, but from which the Church, slow of heart to believe, had hitherto withheld her former sanction, were at last to be openly acknowledged in his person?

No one could doubt what view Pius IX would take. The kings were clearly guilty. They had consented to the voice of their people against the voice of the Church. They had abolished harmonious laws. The internal tribunal was reduced to a voluntary confessional; the external tribunal, in most places, was removed, and everywhere subordinated. Even as to the Supreme Tribunal, who hearkened to the words, "Know that thou art the Father of princes and of kings, and the Governor of the world?"

When the call for Trent went forth, the only doubtful crowns were two lying away between civilization and Cimmerian night in England and Sweden. Now on every hand the word was, There are no Catholic princes. That old English crown was now represented by two monsters of power, the British Empire and the United States. Two other monsters had come up, Prussia and Russia. Spain was fallen, Poland was extinct, Italy was hostile, Austria was enfeebled, France was strong but not sound—there were no Catholic States. The social system was indeed in ruins. It was only by clearing away that the foundations for reconstruction could be properly laid; but clearing away was attended with danger. The princes were not to be invited, but they were to be allowed to claim admission. The Bull was then and there altered in this sense.[103]

Meanwhile symptoms of the coming conflict began to appear. Catholics of all classes looked forward to great events for the Church and the nations. Those who did not share the hopes of the hidden Council, or who recoiled from the dogmas likely to be decreed, felt anxious. The Press began to pour out pamphlets and reprints, enabling all to read up on the question of Councils.

"The Crusaders of St. Peter" was the title of historical tales now regularly appearing in the Civiltá, which continued for years. The object was to make the blood of Mentana the seed of a great œcumenical army. Every incident was described with vivid conception and boundless faith in the destiny of the Papacy, with faith too in the duty of all to rear up sons for the Crusade, and faith that those who fell escaped purgatorial pains and found direct entrance among the beatified.

The following are passages scattered here and there—

It was a sight to rejoice the angels in heaven, that of these brave men laying down the carabine to perform the little office of the Virgin, and then turning from the little office of the Virgin to take up the carabine. … On the march fatigue was lightened by reciting the prayer which had so often conquered the foes of the Church, the rosary. … The masters of war know that on the field of battle the last army to deserve ridicule is an army fresh from confession and communion. … A young gentlewoman gave birth to her first-born. "How long it will be," she said, "ere he can carry a musket! But Pius IX can do anything. He can make a zouave even now of my Eugenio." Melted by such faith, the Pope wrote a benediction on a paper "consecrated to him" by the infant. The venerated word was placed in the domestic sanctum, and in return for it "the zouave at the breast will do a soldier's service." Some weeks later, on receiving from him a first oblation, the Pope again wrote a word for "his soldier in swaddling clothes." The family were overjoyed at being permitted within five months to kiss two Papal autographs. The mother wrote, "Eugenio was asleep. I ran to put the Papal benediction on his head and forehead. He immediately broke out in a smile, and to me he looked like an angel. I could not restrain my tears. He still slept, but bounded for joy as long as I kept the blessed letters on his little head. … Should the avengers of Mentana try their hand, the zouave will lisp his first word crying Viva Maria!"

Arthur Guillemin said to his crusaders as he led them to the attack at Monte Libretti, fresh from absolution, "You are all in the grace of God; do not count them, they will fall into our hands." They marched into battle, some with the rosary round their neck, some with the Carmelite scapular on their breast, and some with the cord of St. Francis round the loins, just like that model of a crusader St. Louis. The young Count de Quélen, who fell heroically at Monte Libretti, had just received a letter from his mother. "If thou art to die, my good Urban, die like a hero, like a soldier of God." After his death she writes to a friend in Rome—

"My beloved son is dead—died for his God. Oh what a comfort is that thought amid this desolation! He fell like the brave, defending the Church and our venerated Pontiff. Was it not a signal favour granted to him by that Lord who is so good that He put it into his heart to shed every drop of his blood for Him, and by this very means to bring him to paradise, where Urban henceforth—yes, I dare believe it—enjoys the vision of his God, and is beatified for all eternity, with beatitude unmixed?" [Thus it was plain that having fallen in battle he had, as the writer of the story says, "seized the palm of martyrdom, as he, following St. Louis, called it," and so had escaped the pains of purgatory.] "If," continues the mother to her friend, "you go to a reception of our holy and venerated Pontiff and King, assure him, I pray you, that I am happy that my son has shed his blood for him."

When the body arrived at Quimper, two hundred priests and a crowd uncounted from the surrounding Breton villages came, "rather to venerate than to pray for the departed." The houses were draped in black, the black was decked with the French and the Papal flags; on the coffin lay his sword, twined with laurels and crowned with vermilion. The bishop pronounced the panegyric "magnifying him as a martyr for religion." Mrs. Stone, a volunteer sister of charity, went from Rome to Nerola to visit the wounded prisoners in the hands of the Garibaldians, and especially Alfred Collingridge. The dying crusader said, "The Lord has given me the favour I asked—to die for the Holy Father. Oh, yes, may God accept of my death and my blood for the triumph of Holy Church and for the conversion of England!" He complained that his rosary had been taken away, and Mrs. Stone supplied him with her own. Alfred Collingridge, from Oxford, "was the first of the English who laid down his life in the Crusade of St. Peter." The writer prays, "May this first English blood shed on Roman soil rise up before God, and descend again in a dew of mercy on the land of Britain!" Of Alfred's countrymen were present, his own brother George, two Watts-Russells, David Shee, and Oswald Cary, "all soldiers of St. Peter" (VII. v. 155 ff.). The father hearing from George of the death of Alfred, had only one regret, that he could not himself step into his vacant place.

When Arthur Guillemin fell he was unhappily consigned to a grave in common with Garibaldians; because it "was not then possible to separate in the grave the friends of God from His enemies." Six months later, Fathers Wilde and Gerlache, with others, piously sought the body of the martyr to restore it to his native Aire-sur-la-Lys, by express desire of Pius IX. Canon Druot had come to Rome to claim it in the name of the family, the country, and the Church of Guillemin's birth. The seekers of the relic included an O'Reilly, a Le Dieu, a Bach, a Loonen, and a Mimmi. "You will find him," said a peasant, "with a Garibaldian at his feet." The first object recognized was a Carmelite scapular. "It is like mine," cried an officer; "two both alike were given to him and me by the Countess Macchi!" Soon was seen the end of the cord of St. Francis, worn by the deceased in imitation of St. Louis of France. As the corpse was borne off to Rome, the people pressed around and cried Evviva!—Long life to him! This cry "strange around a bier," expressed a "profound sense of the marvellous," and threw "a glittering light upon the idea formed by Christians of those who fall fighting in the modern crusade." At Rome, in the great Church of St. Louis of France, the bier was surrounded by ambassadors, prelates, and officers, including the Minister of War. At home, the "precious deposit" was received in an illuminated chapel, decorated, not with symbols of death, but of glory. "The crowd of pilgrims from the whole of northern France" thronged the town. The bier was adorned with symbols of victory, the work of Roman artists. The coffin was borne by the youth of the town, emulous by changes to come under the coveted burden. A party of pontifical zouaves in uniform attended. From the corners of the hearse rose trophies of the pontifical flag "garlanded with triumphal laurel." While yet the corpse lay in the illuminated chapel, a new-born nephew of Arthur was borne in by the mother, who "piously laid him upon the coffin, as used the ancient Christians to lay their little ones on the sepulchres of the martyrs. A thrill of reverence went through the assembly." During the funeral procession, the eyes of the multitude "were fixed with devout curiosity on a piece of his uniform spread out upon the bier, in which was seen the rent made by the wound" (VII. iv. 415).

Aire-sur-la-Lys is not very far from our own shores, beyond Calais.

FOOTNOTES:

[95] Cecconi, p. 62.

[96] An interesting account of this change is given in Sepp's stirring speech in the Bavarian Parliament on the Mering case, Deutschland und der Vatican, pp. 182–85.

[97] VII. iii. 559.

[98] Civiltá, VII. x. 161.

[99] Serie VII. vol. vii. p. 22.

[100] Cecconi, pp. 370, 371.

[101] Cecconi, p. 122.

[102] Cecconi, p. 382.

[103] Cecconi, pp. 121–24.

CHAPTER III

Bull of Convocation—Doctrine of the Sword—The Crusade of St. Peter—Incidents—Mission to the Orientals, and Overtures to Protestants in different Countries—June 1868 to December 1868–69.

It was on St. Peter's Day, June 29, 1868, that the Bull of Convocation was issued. According to the Pope's promise, the Council was to meet on the Feast of the Immaculate Conception, December 8, 1869.

The language of the Bull was diplomatically vague as to the objects of the assembly, but awfully explicit as to the authority by which it was convened. Not in an obiter dictum, but in legislative language jointed to bear the strain of ages, a claim is set up, as Sepp points out, to exercise the authority of the whole Trinity, and, indeed, we may add, whatever further authority Peter and Paul can lend. "Confiding in and supported by the authority of Almighty God Himself, Father, Son, and Holy Ghost, and of His blessed Apostles Peter and Paul, which we also exercise upon earth."[104] It ought to be remembered that M. Veuillot writes down the date of this Bull as the day on which the middle ages died. The indication of objects, though vague to us, sufficed for the initiated. Ce qui se Passe au Concile says (p. 9)—

The Pope repeatedly intimates that the Church has the right "to redress the errors which turn civil society upside down, … to preserve the nations from bad books and pernicious journals, and from those teachers of iniquity and error to whom the unhappy youth are confided whose education is withdrawn from the clergy; … to defend justice, … to assure the progress and solidity of the human sciences." This somewhat confounds things spiritual and temporal; but those political allusions drowned in the usual digressions of Pontifical documents, passed unobserved.

If they passed unobserved in Roman Catholic countries, where journalists did know a little of the modes of pontifical speech, how much more in countries like England and America, where at that time it was considered unintelligent to speak or write upon the subject from knowledge, the proper thing being a serene superiority to study, and a judicious expression of opinions caught in the air.

To obviate the objection that the assembly would be only a synod of the Western Church, and not an Œcumenical Council, the Bull was followed by Letters Apostolic addressed to all prelates of the Oriental Churches not holding communion with Rome.[105] Until the Vatican Council these were regarded only as schismatics, not as heretics. Therefore the Pope invited them to come, and by submitting to the See of Rome to complete the union. This invitation was dated September 8; and on the 13th of that month a "paternal letter" went forth, to Protestants and other non-Catholics. All these, from Anglican Ritualists down to the smallest sects, were grouped together, not being called to take any part in the Council, but to seize the occasion of joining the Pope's Church by renouncing their heresies and submitting to his authority.

Although the approach of the Council excited little attention in Protestant countries, it began to be discussed in Roman Catholic ones with an interest which rapidly warmed to excitement. The tremendous significance attached by Ultramontane authorities to the Bull, especially to the non-invitation of princes, and to the coming struggle with the Modern State, was enough to rouse Catholics who did not sympathize with the aims indicated. The Civiltá put the alternative as between the end of the world or its salvation by the Council. "Either, in the inscrutable designs of God, human society is destined to perish, and we are close upon the supreme cataclysm of the last day, or the salvation of the world is to be looked for from the Council and from nothing else."[106] Language like this is not to be smiled at when it goes to the heart of perhaps half a million of ecclesiastics, each one of whom transmits the impression through a wide circle. The following passage in the same article may be laid to heart. A good part of it is quoted by Janus, with the remark that it needs but a step further to declare the Pontiff an incarnation of God.

The Pope is not a power among men to be venerated like another. But he is a power altogether divine. He is the propounder and teacher of the law of the Lord in the whole universe; he is the supreme leader of the nations to guide them in the way of eternal salvation; he is the common father and universal guardian of the whole human species in the name of God. … The treasures of revelation, the treasures of truth, the treasures of righteousness, the treasures of supernatural graces upon earth, have been deposited by God in the hands of one man, who is the sole dispenser and keeper of them. The life-giving work of the divine incarnation, work of wisdom, of love, of mercy, is ceaselessly continued in the ceaseless action of one man, thereto ordained by Providence. This man is the Pope. This is evidently implied in his designation itself—The Vicar of Christ. For if he holds the place of Christ upon earth, that means that he continues the work of Christ in the world, and is in respect of us what Christ would be were He here below, Himself visibly governing the Church. … It is, then, no wonder if the Pope, in his language, shows that the care of the whole world is his, and if, forgetting his own peril, he thinks only of that of the faithful nations. He sees aberrations of mind, passions of the heart, overflowing vices; he sees new wants, new aspirations; and holding out to the nations a helping hand, with the tranquillity of one securely seated on the throne given him by God, he says to them, Draw nigh to me, and I will trace out for you the way of truth and charity which alone can lead to the desired happiness.[107]

Such divines as held that the proper work of a General Council was to heal schisms or combat heresies, remarked on the absence of both. Such as were unwilling to see the Church straining after temporal power, and placing herself in antagonism to freedom and light, could ill conceal their anxiety. But the Jesuits everywhere hailed the dawning of a wonderful day.

On Saturday, October 17, 1868, the Abbé Testa, accompanied by three other priests, went to the palace of the Patriarch of Constantinople, bearing the Pope's letter to the Oriental bishops. The Vicar-General received the four Latin priests, and introduced them to his Holiness the Patriarch, whose hand they kissed. The Patriarch, on his part, embraced them, and expressed his pleasure at seeing them. The Abbé Testa then drew a richly adorned little book from his pocket and offered it to the Patriarch, while one of his brethren told his Holiness, in Greek, that they had come to invite him to attend the Œcumenical Council, and begged him to receive the letter of invitation.

His Holiness motioned to the Abbé Testa to lay the little book down near him, and said, "Had not the Giornale di Roma published the letter whereby his Holiness summons us to Rome to a Council, which he calls œcumenical, and had we not thus learned the object and contents of the letter, and also the principles of his Holiness, we should have received a communication from the Patriarch of old Rome with the utmost pleasure, in hope of finding some change in his mode of thinking. As, however, this invitation is in the journals, and as his Holiness has proclaimed views in direct opposition to the principles of the orthodox Churches of the East, we declare to you, Reverend Fathers, with grief and at the same time with sincerity, that we cannot receive either such an invitation or such a letter, which only assert principles opposed to the spirit of the Gospel and to the declarations of the Œcumenical Councils and of the Holy Fathers."

The Patriarch proceeded to refer to the Pope's former advances, and delicately hinted that when they had objected that he held principles which were to be regretted, his reply showed that he was so much pained that it was better not to put him to grief a second time. "In short, we look for the true settlement of the question to history. Ten centuries ago there was one Church, confessing the same faith in East and West, in old Rome and new Rome. Let us go back for that period, and let us see who has added and taken away. Let us suppress innovations, if such there are, and then shall we imperceptibly find ourselves at that point of Catholic orthodoxy from which Rome was pleased gradually to diverge in the earlier centuries, ever widening the gulf of separation more and more by new dogmas and definitions which depart from the holy traditions."

The Abbé Testa asked what principles his Holiness spoke of.

"Without entering into minute points," replied the Patriarch, "we can never admit that wherever the Church of our Saviour extends upon earth any Chief Bishop exists in the midst of her except our Lord, or that there is a Patriarch who is infallible whenever he speaks ex cathedrâ, who is exalted above the Œcumenical Councils, to which alone infallibility attaches, seeing that they always held to holy scripture and apostolic tradition."

The Abbé referred to the Council of Florence, and received a full and courteous answer. The Patriarch at last said, "If you would see that union realized which we all desire, place yourselves on the ground of history and of the General Councils; or, if that is too hard upon you, let us all pray to God for peace to the world and prosperity and union to the Church. For the moment, we declare, with pain, that this invitation is fruitless and this circular of no effect."

The four Latins urged that prayer alone did not suffice; if one was sick we not only prayed but employed means of cure. "When the sickness is spiritual," replied the Patriarch, "the Lord alone knows who is the sick man, how he suffers, what is the root of the malady, and what the real cure. I say again there is urgent necessity for ceaseless prayer to the Lord of the whole earth, that He may guide all to conclusions well pleasing to God."

The Patriarch then directed the Vicar-General to hand back the little book, and the four abbés took their leave, accompanied to the stair by the Vicar-General.[108]

Speaking of this interview, the Stimmen aus Maria Laach said, "Neither by his words nor his deeds did the Patriarch manifest polish, theological science, or ecclesiastical education."[109]

The invitation was rejected by the Metropolitan of Ephesus, and the Bishops of Varna and Thessalonica. The Metropolitan of Chalcedon wrote upon it Epistrephete—"Be converted"—and returned it. The Patriarch of Antioch sent the letter back, and his ten bishops did the same. So also the orthodox Greek Patriarch of Jerusalem and his bishops (Friedberg, p. 70). The Bishop of Thessalonica assigned four reasons, the last of which called forth a laboured reply from the Jesuits of Laach. "The Pope is a king," said the Oriental, "and wields the sword, which is contrary to the gospel." The reply was that the existence of the small but heroic army of the Pope was not due so much to any will of his as to the nature of his office as chief shepherd of the universal Church. The army and the temporal power, "without which this office cannot exist," were manifestly necessary. But then the "schismatical bishop" asks if bearing the sword is not contrary to the gospel. No; for in the very words of the gospel Christ allowed the apostles to bear two swords.

Having reached this practical point in the teaching of Boniface VIII, the writer goes on to show that Peter was not told to cast his sword away, but only to put it up into the sheath; which clearly meant that he was to bear it. If he was reproved for using it, that was because, though he had asked permission to do so, he had not yet received it; for, in fact, at that point of time, the supreme power promised to Peter had not been actually bestowed upon him. But seeing that he was told to keep the sword, are we to suppose that when he did become ruler, he and his successors for all time were to keep it hanging at their sides, as a useless weight? Certainly not; "he beareth not the sword in vain." The writer would probably have called any one an infidel who expected a literal fulfilment of the words "all they that take the sword shall perish with the sword."

In reviewing the reception given in the East to the Bull, consolation was drawn from the fact that the Armenian Patriarch in Constantinople had raised the brief to his forehead. But the Catholikos of the same Church in the See of Etschmiazin rejected it with decision. The ill-success of these overtures displeased the "good Press." Pius IX had been flattered into the belief that he had in great measure "restored" the ascendancy of the Pontiff over the East. Even Archbishop Manning had said enough in print to show that he came back from Rome in 1867 with some such idea, and prelates of more experience had done the same.

Representations as to the readiness of Protestants to submit, had led to the letter to Protestants. Bishop Martin of Paderborn had strong hopes of those in Germany, and set store by some odd letters, said to be from Protestant clergymen, which, however, seem to be either spurious, or from men not likely to lead anybody.[110] Archbishop Manning, after several sentences coloured by a pontifical imagination, had said, "The Council of Trent fixed the epoch after which Protestantism never spread. The next General Council will probably date the period of its dissolution."[111]

Between the date of the Bull of Convocation and that of the invitation to the Orientals, the Pope performed two journeys to the Alban Hills, which were celebrated by Court journalists. At Rocca di Papa, where Hannibal is said to have pitched his tents, the little army of his Holiness was, after modern usage, encamped. The Pontiff went on purpose across the Campagna and up the hills, passed through the ranks of his defenders, and himself celebrated Mass for their benefit. When his next birthday was celebrated, the zouaves made a special display in the Piazza of St. Peter's, of which the Civiltá gives a long but lively description. The last formation mentioned is to us new in military evolutions. The zouaves "formed so as to make the letters composing the august name Pius IX."[112]

Ever since 1860 the preaching of "taking up the cross," of the glory of "dying for religion," and of the pure, bright martyrdom of falling on the field for St. Peter, had been rather heavy work. Now the gleam of victory at Mentana lighted up the future. Vistas long and luminous led the eye of the fighting sons of Loyola away to other scenes, where John VIII as Admiral, or John X as General, or Pius V rejoicing over Lepanto, with other martial glories of the Papacy, paled before what the Virgin and St. Michael were about to bring to pass. Loud and ringing sounded forth to the faithful the call to the crusade of St. Peter. The youth of the Catholic world were assured that not the fall of Richmond nor the capture of Sebastopol, not Solferino nor Sadowa, had moved human society as did the tidings from Mentana. Stories true and often very touching were mixed with fables and with ecstasies.

The tales were those of youths from the noblest houses and from the lowliest cots. The young Duke de Blacas "dedicated his sword to the tomb of St. Peter, as his forefathers dedicated theirs to the tomb of Christ." In his death youths are to see the martyr palm for which it is noble to pant, and mothers are to see a privilege which they might well seek in prayer. Peter Jong, a poor Dutch lad, only son of his mother, a widow, who gave him up rejoicing as if God had granted her great grace, fell, it is said, after having slain fourteen Italians. He receives this tribute: "For St. Peter he inflicted many just deaths; for St. Peter he worthily met his own." It is told how the King of Holland keeps Jong's photograph in his portfolio, and shows it to other intending crusaders as an encouragement. Another Dutch youth writes: "Mamma, blessed is he who sheds the last drop of his blood. The martyrs of all the centuries descend to meet him and to conduct him to heaven." This, though Protestants may not know it, is spiritual warfare! for "to defend the Church of Christ is a spiritual object." One proof constantly alleged that bayonet and ball used for St. Peter are to re-establish truth and righteousness is, "This is the victory that overcometh the world, even our faith."

The young Duke de Blacas, not having been in action, seemed in dying to think that he should not escape purgatory. Care, however, is taken, in a studiously written biography of a Goldoni who also died before battle, to show that in point of martyrdom, as to the old crusaders, no difference was made by St. Bernard and St. Catherine of Siena between those who died in battle and those who died in the service. Also, that no difference had been made between these two classes of the crusaders of St. Peter by Pius IX. He had comforted a father who regretted that his son had not fallen in battle, by telling him that he had "the supreme" consolation, because the son had died in the service of the Holy See. And he had, in his solemn Allocution, compared both classes alike to the martyred Maccabees. The father of Goldoni, pictured as a devout and humane physician, is represented as often putting up the prayer for his only son, "Oh that God would inspire him to take up the cross!" Young Goldoni was a diligent reader of the Unitá Cattolica and the Civiltá, from which "sources of religious and of pure intellectual culture he drew a generous and daring spirit." Though he died unhappily before battle, his biographer sees him seated among the celestial martyrs, between the Duke de Blacas and the Count Zileri de Verme, with whom do rejoice and glory others who died at a distance from the fight. When Goldoni received his "call" to the crusade, he started in haste. "It seemed as if the Spirit of God carried him." The Archbishop of Modena specially blessed "our young crusader." He then received the Sacrament, and so "heart to heart with Jesus Christ consecrated his life to Holy Church." Moreover, in parting, "the young cavalier of Jesus Christ put upon his bosom, as if a breastplate, an image of Mary." The night before leaving home he, "in the manner of the old crusaders," knelt at his father's knee and asked his blessing. While the father "shed upon him the holy water and the prayer," Antonio burst into weeping.

Arrived in Rome, Goldoni sought a Jesuit to "govern his soul." The Jesuit made allusion to the dangers of his new life. "I have made up my mind to be a martyr for the Holy See," replied Goldoni. "The Holy Father has declared the temporal power necessary to the spiritual. Therefore, fighting and dying for the temporal power, I should indirectly be a martyr for our holy religion." The Jesuit was overcome at hearing these generous sentiments from a youth so superior. Two days after, the Jesuit and Goldoni met "in the tribunal of penitence."

Goldoni soon caught a fever, and in the hospital often confessed. On the Feast of St. John Berchmans[113] he declared that he had obtained from the saint the grace to be with him in Paradise on the day of the Assumption of the Virgin. He reiterated that he should on the day of the Assumption go to heaven to see the Madonna and St. John Berchmans. His good father, called from Modena, arrived in time to bless and pray for his departing Antonio. At the last moment he left him, for it would seem that those around thought that the presence of the earthly father would come between him and the heavenly Father. So he lay, with his lustrous eyes fixed on heaven, as if, says the chaplain, "he was awaiting the appearance of his John Berchmans, who was to present him at the throne of the great Virgin." At seven o'clock on the morning of the Assumption he passed away.