The Catholic World, Vol. 09, April, 1869-September, 1869

by Various

The Fable Of Pope Joan.

"But avoid foolish and old wives' fables."—I Tim. iv. 7.

Every one is more or less familiar with the story of a female pope, which runs thus: Pope Leo IV. died in 855, and in the catalogue of Popes Benedict III. appears as his successor. This, claim the Joan story-tellers, is incorrect; for between Leo and Benedict the papal throne was for more than two years occupied by a woman. Her name is not permitted to appear in the list of popes, for the reason that historians devoted to the interests of the church desired to throw the veil of oblivion over so sacrilegious a scandal, and here, say they, is the true account of the affair.

On the death of Leo IV. the clergy and people of Rome met to elect his successor, and they chose a young priest, a comparative stranger in Rome, who during his short residence there had acquired an immense reputation for learning and virtue, and who, on becoming pope, assumed the name of John VII., or, according to some, John VIII. [Footnote 1]

[Footnote 1: And it was the most convenient one to take. Before 855 there were seven popes named John, and at the period when the story began to spread there had been twenty-one.]

Now, the pope so elected was, in fact, a woman, the daughter of an English couple travelling in Germany. She was born in Fulda, where she grew up and was well educated. Disguised as a man, she entered the monastery at Fulda, where she remained undiscovered for years, and from which she eventually eloped with a monk. They fled to England, thence to France and Italy, and finally to Greece. They were both profoundly versed in all the science of the day, and went to Athens to study the literature and language of that country. Here the monk died. Giovanna (her name was also Gilberta or Agnes, according to the fancy of the writer) [Footnote 2] then left Athens and went to Rome, where her reputation for learning and the fame of her virtue soon spread.

[Footnote 2: Her maiden name was for the first time given at end of 14th century. It was then Agnes.]

She gave public lectures and disputations, to which she attracted immense crowds of hearers, all delighted with her exemplary piety and astonished at her matchless learning.

All the students of Rome, and even professors, flocked to hear her. On the death of Leo, she was elected pope by the clergy and people of Rome from among many men preëminent for their learning and virtue. After governing with great wisdom for more than two years—there being not the slightest suspicion of her sex—she left the Vatican on a certain festival at the head of the clergy, to walk in procession to the Lateran; but on the way was seized with the pains of labor, and in the open street, amid the astounded bishops and clergy and surrounding concourse of people, then and there gave birth to a child—and died. After this occurrence, it was determined that the pontiff in procession should never pass that desecrated street, and a statue was placed on the spot to perpetuate the infamy of the fact, and a certain ceremony, minutely described, was ordained to be observed at the consecration of all future popes, in order to prevent the possibility of any similar scandal.

Of course there are numerous versions of the narrative, infinitely varied in every detail, as is apt to be the case with any story starting from no place or person in particular and contributed to by everybody in general.

As told, this incident is supposed to fill every polemical Protestant with delight, and to fill convicted Catholics with what Carlyle calls "astonishment and unknown pangs."

Now, granting every tittle of the story as related to be true, we see no good reason for delight on one side nor pangs on the other. We repeat, conceding its entire truth, there is nothing in the story that necessarily entails injury or disgrace on the Catholic Church. Why should it? Catholic morality and doctrine do not depend upon the personal qualities of popes. In this case, supposing the story true, who was elected pope? A man—as all concerned honestly believed—of acknowledged learning and virtue. There was no intrigue, no improper influence; and those who elected him had no share in the imposture, but were the victims, not the participators, of the deceit practised. The cunning and the imposture were all hers, and her crime consisted, not in being delivered in the streets, but in not having lived chastely. True, it was a scandalous accident; but the scandal could not add to the original immorality of which, in all the world, but two persons were guilty, and guilty in secret—for there is no pretence, in all the versions, that the outward life of the pretended she-pope was otherwise than blameless and even edifying. Those who elected her were totally ignorant of her sex—an ignorance entirely excusable—an error of fact brought about by artful imposture. To their honor be it said, that they recognized in their choice the sole merits of piety and learning, and wished to reward them.

But a female pope was once the head of the church! Dreadful reproach to come from those who call themselves Reformed, Evangelical, and Puritans, who have not only tolerated but established, nay, and even forced some queens and princesses to declare themselves Head of the Church or Defender of the Faith in their own dominions, and dispose—as one of them does to this day—of church dignities and benefices, and order other matters ecclesiastical according to their personal will and pleasure.

Let us now look into the story and examine the testimony on which it is founded. The popess is said to have reigned two years and more. Rome was then the greatest city and the very centre of the civilized world, and always full of strangers from all parts of the earth. The catastrophe of the discovery brought about by the street delivery took place under the eyes of a vast multitude of people, and must have been known on the same day to the entire city before the sun had set. An event so strange, so romantic, so astounding, so scandalous, concerning the most exalted personage in the world, must surely have been written about or chronicled by the Italians who were there, and reported by letter or word of mouth by foreigners to their friends at home, and found its way from a thousand sources into the writings of the time; for it must be remembered the pope, of all living men, was of especial interest to the class who at that period were in the habit of writing. Such testimony as this, being the evidence of eye-witnesses, would be the highest testimony, and would settle the fact beyond dispute. Where is it? Silence profound is our only answer. Nothing of the kind is on the record of that period. Ah! then in that case we must suppose the matter to have been temporarily hushed up, and we will consent to receive accounts written ten, twenty—well, we'll not haggle about a score or two—or even fifty years later. Silence again! Not a scrap, not a solitary line can be found.

And so we travel through all the history which learning and industry have been able to rescue from the re-cords of the past down to the end of the ninth century, and find the same unbroken silence.

We must then go to the tenth century, where the murder will surely out. Silence again, deep and profound, through all the long years from 900 to 1000, and all is blank as before!

And now we again go on beyond another half-century, still void of all mention of Pope Joan, until we reach the year 1058, just two hundred and three years after the assigned Joanide.

In that year a monk, Marianus Scotus, of the monastery of Fulda, commenced a universal chronicle, which was terminated in 1083. Somewhere between these dates, in recording the events of 855, he is said to have written: "Leo the Pope died on the 1st of August. To him succeeded John, who was a woman, and sat for two years, five months, and four days." Only this and nothing more. Not a word of her age, origin, qualities, or circumstances of her death. So far it is not much of a story; but little by little, link by link, line by line, like unto the veridical and melodious narrative of The House that Jack built, we'll contrive to make a good story of it yet. The statement first appears in Marianus. So much is certain. For during the seventeenth century, when the Joan controversy raged, and cartloads of books and pamphlets were written on the subject—a mere list of the titles of which would exceed the limits of this article—every library and collection in Europe was ransacked with the furious industry of which a polemic writer is alone capable, for every—even the smallest—fragment or thread connected with this subject. Nevertheless, this ransacking was neither so thorough nor so successful as during the present century; for, as the learned Döllinger states, "it is only within forty years that all the European collections of mediaeval MSS. have been investigated with unprecedented care, every library, nook, and corner thoroughly searched, and a surprising quantity of hitherto unknown historical documents brought to light."

Comparing the so-called statement of Marianus with the latest sensational and circumstantial relation, it is plain that the story did not, like Minerva, spring full-armed into life, but that it is the result of a long and gradual growth, fostered by the genius of a long series of inventive chroniclers.

But where did the monk of Fulda get the story? Ah! here is an interesting episode. His chronicle was first printed at Basle (1559) from the text known as the Latomus MS. Its editor was John Herold, a Calvinist of note, who, in printing the pas-sage in question, quietly left out the words of the original, "ut asseritur"—that is to say, "as report goes," or "believe it who will"—thus changing the chronicler's hearsay to a direct and positive assertion.

But the testimony of the Marianus chronicle comes to still greater grief, And here a word of explanation. The Original MS. Of Marianus is not known to exist, but we have numerous copies of it, the respective ages of which are well ascertained. Döllinger mentions two of them well known in Germany to be the oldest in existence, in which not a word concerning the popess can be found. The copy in which it is found is of 1513, and the explanation as to its appearance there is simple. The passage in question was doubtless put in the margin by some reader or copyist, and by some later copyist inserted in the text, And so we return to the original dark silence in which we started.

A feeble attempt was made to claim that Sigbert of Gembloux, who died in 1113, had recorded the story; but it was triumphantly demonstrated that it was first added to his chronicle in an edition of 1513. The same attempt was made with Gottfried's Pantheon and the chronicle of Otto von Freysingen, and also lamentably failed. In 1261, there died a certain Stephen of Bourbon, a French Dominican, who left a work in which he speaks of the popess, and says he got the statement from a chronicle which must have been that of Jean de Mailly, a brother Dominican.

To the year 1240 or 1250 may then be assigned, on the highest authority, the period when the Joan story first made its appearance in writing and in history—nearly four hundred years after its supposed date.

In 1261, an anonymous unedited chronicle, still preserved in the library of St. Paul at Leipsic, states that "another false pope, name and date unknown, since she was a woman, as the Romans confess, of great beauty and learning, who concealed her sex and was elected pope. She became with child, and the demon in a consistory made the fact known to all by crying aloud to the pope:

"Papa Pater Patrum papissae pandito partum,
Et tibi tunc edam de corpore quando recedam."

Some chroniclers relate it differently, namely, that the pope undertook to exorcise a person possessed of an evil spirit, and on demanding of the devil when he would go out from the possessed person's body, the evil one replied in the Latin verses above given, that is to say, "O Pope! thou father of the fathers, declare the time of the pope's parturition, and I will then tell you when I will go out from this body."

The demon always was a fellow who had a keen eye for the fashions, and he appears to have indulged in alliterative Latin poetry precisely at the period when that sort of literary trifling was most in vogue among scholars who recreated themselves with such lines as

"Ruderibus rejectis Rufus Festus fieri fecit;"

or

"Roma Ruet Romuli Ferro Flammaque Fameque."

A few years later, Martinus Polaccus or Polonus, Martin the Polack, or the Pole, (Polack is now disused, Shakespeare makes Horatio say, "He smote the sledded Polack on the ice,") who died in 1278, the author of a chronicle of popes and emperors down to 1207, says: "John of England, by nation of Mayence, sat 2 years, 5 months, and 4 days. It is said that this pope was a woman." The chronicle of Polonus is merely a synchronistic history of the popes and emperors in the form of dry biographical notices. Nevertheless, from the fact that he had lived many years in Rome and was intimate with the papal court his book had, to use a modern phrase, an immense run. [Footnote 3]

[Footnote 3: The tradition concerning the resignation of Pope Cyriacus was also widely spread by the same chronicle. The story ran that Pope Cyriacus resigned the pontificate in the year 238, and first took its rise a thousand years after that date. It was pure fiction, and was connected with the legend of St. Ursula and her 11,000 virgins. No such pope as Cyriacus ever existed.]

It was translated into all the principal languages, and more extensively copied than any chronicle then existing. The number of copies (MS.) still in existence far exceeds that of any other work of the kind, and this fact suggests an important reflection. Great stress is laid by some writers on the multitude of witnesses for Joan. But the multitude does not increase the proof when they but repeat one another, and they suspiciously testify in nearly the same words. "The advocates for Pope Joan," says Gibbon, "produce one hundred and fifty witnesses, or rather echoes, of the fourteenth, fifteenth, and sixteenth centuries. They bear testimony against themselves and the legend by multiplying the proof that so curious a story must have been repeated by writers of every description to whom it was known."

The various versions that copy one another must necessarily bear a strong family likeness. Their number can add nothing to their value as proof, and is no more conclusive than the endeavor to establish the doubted existence of a man by a great variety of portraits of him, all—as Whately so well remarks in his Historic Doubts—"all striking likenesses—of each other."

In this case the most ancient testimony is posterior to the claimed occurrence some four hundred years, and is utterly inconsistent with the indisputable facts related by contemporary authors. The erudite Launoy, in his treatise De Auctoritate Negantis Argumenti, lays down the rule that a fact of a public nature not mentioned by any writer within two hundred years of its supposed occurrence is not to be believed. This is the same Launoy who waged war on the legends of the saints, claiming that much fabulous matter had crept into them. On this account he was called "Dénicheur des Saints"—the Saint-hunter or router—and the Abbé of St. Roch used to say, "I am always profoundly polite to Launoy, for fear he will deprive me of St. Roch." The general rule (Launoy's) so important in historical criticism is in perfect harmony with a great and leading principle of jurisprudence. In the Pope Joan incident the silence of all the writers of that age as to so remarkable a circumstance is to be fairly received as a prerogative argument (Baconian philosophy) when set up against the numerous modern repetitions of the story. It may be taken as a general rule that the silence of contemporaries is the strongest argument against the truth of any given historical assertion, particularly when the fact asserted is strange and interesting, and this for the reason that man is ever prone to believe and recount the marvellous; and in the absence of early evidence, the testimony of later times is, for the same reason, only weaker. Now this is in strict accordance with the principle of English common law, which demands the highest and rejects hearsay and secondary evidence; for scores of witnesses may depose in vain that they have heard of such a fact; the eye-witness is the prerogative instance. This is the logic of evidence.

And now we find that what happened to Marianus Scotus also befell Polonus. He was entirely innocent of any mention of Joan! The passage exists in none of the oldest copies, and is wanting in all that follow the author's close and methodical plan of giving one line to each year of a pope's reign, so that, with fifty lines to the page as he wrote, each page covered precisely half a century. This method is entirely broken up in those MSS. which contain the passage concerning Joan, and the rage to get the passage in was such that in one copy (the Heidelberg MS.) Benedict III. is left out entirely and Joan put in his place. Dr. Döllinger and the learned Bayle concur in the opinion that the passage never had any existence in the original work of Polonus.

And just at this juncture the testimony of Tolomeo di Lucca (1312) is important. He wrote an ecclesiastical history, and names the popess with the remark that in all the histories and chronicles known to him Benedict III. succeeded Leo IV. The author was noted for learning and industry, and must necessarily have consulted every available authority, and yet nowhere did he find mention of Joan but in Polonus. In 1283, a versified chronicle of Maerlandt (a Hollander) mentions Joan: "I am neither clear nor certain whether it is a truth or a fable; mention of it in chronicles of the popes is uncommon."

And now, as we advance into the fourteenth century, as manuscripts multiply and one chronicler copies another, mention of Joan increases; and successively and in due order, as the malt, the rat, the cat, the dog, and all the rest appear in turn to make perfect the nursery ditty, so the statue, the street, the ceremony, and all the remaining features of the story come gradually out, until we have it in full and detailed description, and our popular papal "House that Jack built" is complete.

Then we have Geoffrey of Courlon, a Benedictine, (1295,) Bernard Guidonis and Leo von Orvieto, both Dominicans, (1311,) John of Paris, Dominican, (first half of fourteenth century,) and several others, all of whom take the story from Polonus.

In 1306, we get the statue from Siegfried, who thus contributes his quota: "At Rome, in a certain spot of the city, is still shown her statue in pontifical dress, together with the image of her child cut in marble in a wall." Bayle says that Thierry di Niem (fifteenth century) "adds out of his own head" the statue. But it appears that it was referred to twenty-three years earlier than Siegfried by Maerlandt, the Hollander, who says that the story as we read it is cut in stone and can be seen any day:

"En daer leget soe, als wyt lesen
Noch aleo up ten Steen ghebouween,
Dat men ano daer mag scouwen."

Amalric di Angier wrote in 1362, and adds to the story her "teaching three years at Rome." Petrarch repeats the version of Polonus. Boccacio also relates it, and was the first who at that period asserted her name was not known.

Jacopo de Acqui (1370) says that she reigned nineteen years.

Aimery du Peyrat, abbot of Moissac, who compiled a chronicle in 1399, puts "Johannes Anglicus" in the list of popes with the remark, "Some say that she was a woman."

In 1450, Martin le Franc, in his Champion des Dames, expresses surprise that Providence should have permitted such a scandal as to allow the church to be governed by a wicked woman.

"Comment endura Dieu, comment
Que femme ribaulde et prestresse
Eut l'Eglise en gouvernement?"

Hallam (Literature of Europe) mentions as among the most remarkable among the Fastnacht's Spiele (carnival plays) of Germany the apotheosis of Pope Joan, a tragic-comic legend, written about 1480. Bouterwek, in his History of German Poetry, also mentions it.

In 1481, "to swell the dose," as Bayle says, the stool feature of the story first comes in.

In the Nuremberg Chronicle of 1493 (Astor Library copy) Joan is put down as Joannes Septimus, and the page ornamented (?) with a wood-cut of a woman with a child in her arms. It relates that she gained the pontificate by evil arts, "malis artibus."

In the beginning of the same century there was seen a bust of Joan among the collection of busts of the popes in the cathedral at Sienna. And, more astonishing still, the story was related in the Mirabilia urbis Roma, a sort of guide-book for strangers and pilgrims visiting Rome, editions of which were constantly reprinted for a period of eighty years down to 1550!

In the middle of the fifteenth century we find the story related at full length by Felix Hammerlein, and later by John Bale, then Bishop of Ossory, who afterward became a Protestant. He pretty well completes the tale.

According to Tolomeo di Lucca, the Joan story in 1312 was nowhere found but in some few copies of Polonus. Nevertheless, it is notorious that at that time countless lists and historical tables of popes were in existence, in none of which was there any trace of the popess.

Suddenly we find extraordinary industry exercised in multiplying and spreading the copies of Polonus containing the story, and in inserting it in other chronicles that did not contain it. As the editors of the Histoire Littéraire e France aptly remark: "Nous ne saurions nous expliquer comment il se fait que ce soit précisëment dans les rangs de cette fidèle milice du saint-siège que se rencontrent les propagateurs les plus naïfs, et peut-être les inventeurs, d'une histoire si injurieuse à la papauté." [Footnote 4]

[Footnote 4: "We cannot understand how it is that, precisely among the ranks of the faithful soldiers of the holy see, we find the most credulous propagators and, perhaps, inventors of a story so injurious to the papacy.">[

Dr. Döllinger answers this by stating that those who appeared to be most active in the matter were Dominicans and Minorites, particularly the former, (Sie waren es ja, besonders die ersten.) This is specially to be remarked under the primacy of Boniface VIII., who was no friend of either order. The Dominican historians were particularly severe in their judgments on Boniface in the matter of his difficulty with Philip the Fair, and appear to dwell with satisfaction upon this period of the weakened authority of the papal see.

In 1610, Alexander Cooke published in London, "Pope Ioane, a Dialogue Betweene a Protestant and a Papist, manifestly prouing that a woman called Ioane was Pope of Rome: against the surmises and objections made to the contrarie," etc. Cooke has a preface, "To the Popish or Catholicke reader—chuse whether name thou hast a mind to;" which is very handsome indeed of Mr. Cooke.

The papist in the Dialogue has a dreadful time of it from one end of the book to the other, and Gregory VII. is effectually settled by calling him "that firebrand of hell." Bayle grimly disposes of Cooke's work thus: "It had been better for his cause if he had kept silence."

Discussion of the story comes even down to this century. In 1843 and 1845 two works appeared in Holland: one, by Professor Kist, to prove the existence of Joan; the other, by Professor Wensing, to refute Kist. In 1845 was also published a very able work by Bianchi-Giovini: Esame critico degli atti e Documenti relativi alla favola della Papissa Giovanna. Di A. Bianchi-Giovini. Milano.

It is doubtful if in all the annals of literature there exists a more remarkable case of pure fable growing, by small and slow degrees through several centuries, until, in the shape of a received fact, it finally effects a lodgment in serious history. Taking its rise no one knows where or how, full four hundred years after the period assigned it, and stated at first in the baldest and thinnest manner possible, it goes on from century to century, gathering consistence, detail, and incident; requiring three centuries for its completion, and, finally, comes out the sensational affair we have related. All stories gain by time and travel; scandalous stories most of all. These last are particularly robust and long-lived. They appear to enjoy a freedom amounting to immunity. Just as certain noxious and foul-smelling animals frequently owe their life to the unwillingness men have to expose themselves to such contact, so such stories, looked upon at first as merely scandalous and too contemptible for serious refutation, acquire, through impunity, an importance that, in the end, makes them seriously annoying. Then, too, well-meaning people thoughtlessly accept reports and repeat statements that, through mere iteration, are supposed to be well-founded. Let any one, be his or her experience ever so small, look around and see how fully this is exemplified every day in real life.

Moreover, there was no dearth of writers in the middle ages who used, to the extent of license, the liberty of criticising and blaming the papacy. By all such the Joan story was invariably put forward by way of illustration; and they appear to have gone on unchecked until it was found that the open enemies of the church began to avail themselves of the scandal.

In 1451, AEneas Sylvius Piccolomini, (Pius II.,) in conference with the Taborites of Bohemia, denied the story, and told Nicholas, their bishop, that, "even in placing thus this woman, there had been neither error of faith nor of right, but ignorance of fact." Aventinus, in Germany, and Onuphrius Pauvinius, in Italy, staggered the popularity of the story. Attention once drawn to the subject, and investigation commenced, its weakness was soon apparent, and testimony soon accumulated to crush it.

Ado, Archbishop of Vienne, (France,) who was at Rome in 866, has left a chronicle in which he says that Benedict III. succeeded immediately to Leo IV.

Prudentius, Bishop of Troyes at the same period, testifies to the same fact.

In 855, the assigned Joanide period, there were in Rome four individuals who afterward successively became popes, under the names of Benedict III., Nicholas I., Adrian II., and John VIII. During the pretended papacy of Joan these men were all either priests or deacons, and must have taken part in her election, and have been present at the catastrophe, Now, of all these popes there exist many and various writings, but not a word concerning the popess. On the contrary, they all represent Benedict III. to have succeeded Leo IV.

Lupo, Abbot of Ferrières, in a letter to Pope Benedict, says that he, the abbot, had been kindly received at Rome by his predecessor, Leo IV.

In a council held at Rome, in 863, under Nicholas I., the pontiff speaks of his predecessors Leo and Benedict.

Hincmar, Archbishop of Rheims, writing to Nicholas I., says that certain messengers sent by him to Leo IV. had been met on their journey by news of that pontiff's death, and had, on their arrival at Rome, found Benedict on the throne. Ten other contemporary writers are cited who all testify to the same immediate succession, and afford not the slightest hint of any story or tradition that can throw the least light on that of the female pope. "The time of Pope Joan," says Gibbon, "is placed somewhat earlier than Theodora or Marozia; and the two years of her imaginary reign are forcibly inserted between Leo IV. and Benedict III. But the contemporary Anastasius indissolubly links the death of Leo and the elevation of Benedict; and the accurate chronology of Pagi, Muratori, and Leibnitz fixes both events to the year 857."

But there is no smoke without fire, it is said; and the wildest stories must have some cause, if not foundation. Let us see. Competent critics find the story to be a satire on John VIII. "Ob nimiam ejus animi facilitatem et mollitudinem" says Baronius, particularly in the affair with Photius, by whom John had suffered himself to be imposed upon. Photius, Patriarch of Constantinople, was known to be a half-man, and yet so cunning to overreach John. Therefore they said John Was a woman, and called him Joanna, instead Of Joannes, in that tone of bitter raillery constantly indulged in by the Roman Pasquins and Marforios, and this raillery, naturally enough, in course of time came to be taken for truth.

And again: Pope John X., elected in 914, was said to have been raised by the power and influence of Theodora, a woman of talent and unscrupulous intrigue. In 931, John, the son of Marozia and Duke Alberic, and grandson of Theodora, was said to be a mere puppet in the hands of his mother. "Their reign," (Theodora and Marozia,) says Gibbon, "may have suggested to the darker ages the fable of a female pope."

Again, in 956, a grandson of the same Marozia was raised to the papal chair as John XII. [Footnote 5] He renounced the dress and decencies of his profession, and his life was so scandalous that he was degraded by a synod. Onuphrius Pauvinius and Liutprand are quoted to show that a woman, Joan, had such influence over him that he loaded her with riches. She is said to have died in childbed.

[Footnote 5: At this period the church was as yet without the advantages of the great reform effected by Gregory VII. in 1073, and the choice of a pope by the bishops or cardinals was ratified or rejected by the Roman people, too often, at that time, the dupes or tools of such men as the marquises of Tuscany and the counts of Tusculum, who, says Gibbon, "held the apostolic see in a long and disgraceful servitude.">[

Long series of years preceding and following these events were anything but times of pleasantness and peace to the successors of St. Peter. Even Gibbon says, "The Roman pontiffs of the ninth and tenth centuries were insulted, imprisoned, and murdered by their tyrants, and such was their indigence, after the loss and usurpation of the ecclesiastical patrimonies, that they could neither support the state of a prince nor exercise the charity of a priest."

Now, with such materials as these, a Pope Joan story is easily constructed; for, with the license of speech that has always existed in Rome in the form of pasquinades, it is more than likely to have been satirically remarked by the Romans under one or all of the three popes John, that Rome had a popess instead of a pope, and that the chair of St. Peter was virtually occupied by a female. These things would be repeated from mouth to mouth by men who, according to their temper and ability, would comment on them with bitter scoff, irreverent comment, snarling sneer, or ribald leer, and they might readily have been received as matter of fact assertions by German and other strangers in Rome.

Carried home and spread by wandering monks and soldiers, it is only wonderful that they did not sooner come to the surface in some such fable as the one under consideration. Diffused among the people, and acquiring a certain degree of consistence by dint of repetition through two centuries, it finally reached the ear of the individual who inserted it in the Marianus chronicle in the form of an on dit, and so he put it down "ut asseritur"—"they say."

Certain it is that no such story was known in Italy until it was spread from German chroniclers, and the absurdity was too monstrous to pass into contemporary history even in a foreign country.

But, it is answered, by Coeffetau and others, we do not hear of it for so many years afterward because the church exerted its omnipotent authority to hush up the story. There needs but slight knowledge of human nature to decide that such an attempt would have only served to spread and intensify the scandal. As Bayle wisely remarks, "People do not so expose their authority by prohibitions which are not of a nature to be observed, and which, so far from shutting their mouth, rather excite an itching desire to speak."

Then, too, it is claimed that for a period of several hundred years after 855, writers and chroniclers, by agreement, tacit or express, not only maintained a profound silence on the subject of the scandal, but, in all Christian countries of the world, conspired to alter the order of papal succession, forge chronicles, and falsify historical records. And yet those who use this argument tell us that in the city of Rome, under papal authority, a statue was erected, an order issued, turning aside processions from their time-consecrated itinerary, and customs as remarkable for their indecency as their novelty were introduced, in order to perpetuate the memory of the very same events tyrannical edicts were issued to conceal and blot out! Comment is not needed.

The total silence of contemporary writers, and the immense chasm of two hundred years (taking the earliest date claimed) between the event and its first mention, was, of course, found fatal. Consequently, an attempt was made to prop up the story by the assertion that it was chronicled by Anastasius the Librarian, who lived in Rome at the alleged Joannic period, was present at the election of all the popes from 844 to 882, and must, therefore, have been a witness of the catastrophe of 855. The testimony of such a witness would certainly be valuable—indeed irrefutable. Accordingly a MS. of the fourteenth century, a copy of the Anastasian MS., was produced, in which mention was made of Pope Joan. But this mention was attended with three suspicious circumstances. First, it was qualified by an "ut dicitur" "as is said." Anastasius would scarcely need an on dit to qualify his own testimony concerning an event that took place under his own eyes, and must have morally convulsed all Rome. Secondly, it was not in the text, but in a marginal note. Thirdly, and fatally, the entire sentence was in the very words of the Polonus chronicle. Naturally enough, it was found singular that Anastasius, writing in the ninth century, should use the identical phraseology of Polonus, who was posterior to him by four hundred years.

But, in addition to these reasons, Anastasius gives a circumstantial account of the election of Benedict III. to succeed Leo IV., absolutely filling up the space needed for Joan. In view of all which the critical Bayle is moved to exclaim, "Therefore I say what relates to this woman (Joan) is spurious, and comes from another hand." A zealous Protestant, Sarrurius, writes to his co-religionist, Salmasius, (the same who had a controversy with Milton,) after examining the Anastasian MS., "The story of the she-pope has been tacked to it by one who had misused his time." And Gibbon says, "A most palpable forgery is the passage of Pope Joan which has been foisted into some MSS. and editions of the Roman Anastasius."

With regard to the early chronicle MSS., it must be borne in mind that it was common for their readers (owners) to write additions in the margin, A professional copyist—the publisher of those days—usually incorporated the marginal notes with the text. Books were then, of course, dear and scarce, and readers frequently put in the margin the supplements another book could furnish them, rather than buy two books. Then again—for men are alike in all ages—those who purchased valuable books wanted, as they want to-day, the fullest edition, with all the latest emendations. So a chronicle with the Joan story would always be more saleable than one without it.

But one of the strongest presumptions against the truth of the story is seen in the profound silence of the Greek writers of the period, (ninth to fifteenth century.) All of them who sided with Photius were bitterly hostile to Rome, and the question of the supremacy of the pope was precisely the vital one between Rome and Constantinople. They would have been only too glad to get hold of such a scandal. Numbers of Greeks were in Rome in 855, and if such a catastrophe as the Joanine had occurred, they must have known it. "On writers of the ninth and tenth centuries," says Gibbon, "the recent event would have flashed with a double force. Would Photius have spared such a reproach? Would Liutprand have missed such a scandal?"

We have disposed of the absurdity of the supposition that the power and discipline of the church were so great as to enforce secrecy concerning the Joan affair. But—even granting the truth of this assertion—that power and discipline would avail naught with strangers who were Greeks and schismatics. In 863, only eight years after the alleged Joanide, the Greek schism broke out under Photius, who was excommunicated by Nicholas I. There was no period from 855 to 863 when there were not numbers of Greeks in the city of Rome—learned Greeks too. Many of them agreed with Photius, who claimed that the transfer of the imperial residence, by the emperors, from Rome to Constantinople, at the same time transferred the primacy and its privileges. Yet not only can no allusion to any such story be found in any Greek writer of that century, but there is found in Photius himself no less than three distinct and positive assertions that Benedict III. succeeded Leo IV.

The Greek schism became permanent in 1053, under Cerularius, Patriarch of Constantinople, who undertook to excommunicate the legates of the pope.

With Cerularius, as with Photius, the papal supremacy was the main question, and neither he nor Photius would have failed to make capital of the Joan fable, had they ever heard of it. So also with all the Byzantine writers, and they were numerous. It was not until the fifteenth century that the first mention of the story was made by one of them, (Chalcocondylas,) an Athenian of the fifteenth century, who, in his De Rebus Turcicis, states the case very singularly: "Formerly a woman was in the papal chair, her sex not being manifest, because the men in Italy, and, indeed, in all the countries of the West, are closely shaved." It is true that Barlaam, a Greek writer, mentioned it in the fourteenth century; but Barlaam was living in Italy when he wrote his book.

And now, as we reach the so-called Reformation period, we find the tale invested with a value and importance it had never before assumed. It was kept constantly on active duty without relief, and compelled to do fatiguing service in a thousand controversial battles and skirmishes. Angry and over-zealous Protestants found it a handy thing to have in their polemical house. And, although the more judicious cared not to use it, the story was generally retained. Spanheim and Lenfant endeavored to think it a worthy weapon, and even Mosheim affects to cherish suspicion as to its falsity. Jewell, one of Elizabeth's bishops (1560) seriously, and with great show of learning, espoused Joan's claims to existence.

Nor were answers wanting; and, including those who had previously written on the subject, it was fully confuted by Aventinus, Onuphrius Pauvinius, Bellarmine, Serrarius, George Scherer, Robert Parsons, Florimond de Rémond, Allatius, and many others.

The first Protestant to cast doubt on the fable was David Blondel. A minister of the Reformed Church, Professor of History at Amsterdam, in 1630, he was held by his co-religionists to be a prodigy of learning in languages, theology, and ecclesiastical history. In his Fable de la Papesse Jeanne, with invincible logic and an intelligent application of the true canons of historical criticism, he demonstrates the absence of foundation for the story, the tottering and stuttering weakness of its early years, the suspicions which stand around its cradle; and, instead of disputing how far the Pope Joan story was believed or credited in this or that century, shows that by her own contemporaries she was never heard of at all; the whole story being, he says, "an inlaid piece of work embellished with time." Blondel was bitterly assailed by all sections of Protestantism, and accused of "bribery and corruption," the question being asked, "How much has the pope given him?" Blondel's work brought out a crowd of writers in defence of Joan, foremost among whom was the Protestant Des Marets or Maresius, whose labors in turn called out the Cenotaphium Papessae Joannae by the learned Jesuit Labbe, the celebrity of whose name drew forth a phalanx of writers in reply.

But the worst for Joanna was yet to come. Another Protestant, undeterred by the abuse showered upon Blondel, gave Joan her coup de grace. This was the learned Bayle, who, with rigid and judicial impartiality, sums up the essence of all that had been advanced on either side, and shows unanswerably the altogether insufficient grounds on which the entire story rests. More was not needed. Nevertheless, Eckhard and Leibnitz followed Bayle in the extinguishing process, and made it disreputable for any scholar of respectability to advocate the convicted falsehood.

There was no dearth of other Protestant protests against Joan. Casaubon, the most learned of the so-called reformers, laughed at the fable. So did Thuanus. Justus Lipsius said of it, "Revera fabella est haud longè ab audacia et ineptis poetarum." [Footnote 6] Schookius, professor at Groningen, totally disbelieved it. Dr. Burnet, Bishop of Salisbury, said, "I don't believe the history of Pope Joan," and gives his reasons. So, also, Dr. Bristow. Very pertinent was the reflection of Jurieu, (a fanatical Protestant, if ever there was one—the same noted for his controversy with Bayle, who was a "friend of the family"—so much so, indeed, as to cause the remark that Jurieu discovered many hidden things in the Apocalypse, but could not see what was going on in his own household,) in his Apology for the Reformation, "I don't think we are much concerned to prove the truth of this story of Pope Joan."

[Footnote 6: "In truth, it is a fable not much differing from the boldness and silly stories of the poets.">[

The erudite Anglican, Dr. Cave, says: "Nothing helped more to make that Chronicle (Polonus) famous than the much talked of fable of Pope Joan. For my own part, I am thoroughly convinced that it is a mere fable, and that it has been thrust into Martin's chronicle, especially since it is wanting in most of the old manuscripts."

Hallam calls it a fable. Ranke passes it over in contemptuous silence. So also does Sismondi; and Gibbon fairly pulverizes it with scorn.

A favorite polemical arsenal for Episcopalians is found in the works of Jewell, so-called Bishop of Salisbury. Let them be warned against leaning on him concerning the Joan story. Listen how quietly yet how effectually both Joan and Jewell are disposed of by Henry Hart Milman, D.D., Dean of St. Paul's, in his History of Latin Christianity: "The eight years of Leo's papacy were chiefly occupied in restoring the plundered and desecrated churches of the two apostles, and adorning Rome.

"The succession to Leo IV. was contested between Benedict III., who commanded the suffrages of the clergy and people, and Anastasius, who, at the head of an armed faction, seized the Lateran, [Footnote 7] stripped Benedict of his pontifical robes, and awaited the confirmation of his violent usurpation by the imperial legates, whose influence he thought he had secured, But the commissioners, after strict investigation, decided in favor of Benedict. Anastasius was expelled with disgrace from the Lateran, and his rival consecrated in the presence of the emperor's representatives." [Footnote 8] Like Ranke, Milman also passes over the Joan story with contemptuous silence.

[Footnote 7: Sept A.D. 855.]
[Footnote 8: Sept. 29, 855.]

In his Papst-Fabeln des Mittelalters, the learned Dr. Döllinger has exhausted the erudition of the subject, and not only demonstrated the utter unworthiness of the invention, but— what is for the first time done by him—points out the causes or sources of all the separate portions of the narrative. Thus, the statue story arose from the fact that in the same street in which was found a grave or monumental stone, of the inscription on which the letters P. P. P. could be deciphered, there was also seen a statue of a man or woman with a child. It was simply an ancient statue of a heathen priest, with an attendant boy holding in his hand a palm-leaf, The P. P. P. on the grave-stone, as all antiquarians agreed, merely stood for Propria Pecunia Posuit; but as the marvellous only was sought for, the three P's were first coolly duplicated and then made to stand for the words of the line already referred to—Papa Patrum, etc.—much in the same way as Mr. Jonathan Oldbuck insisted that A. D. L. L., on a utensil of imaginary antiquity he had found, stood for AGRICOLA DICAVIT LIBENS LUBENS, when it only meant AIKEN DRUM'S LANG LADLE. The controversy concerning the existence of Joan may be considered as long since substantially closed, and Joan, or Agnes, or Gilberta, or Ione, as she is called in the English (Lond. 1612) edition of Philip Morney's (Du Plessis Mornay) Mysterie of Iniquitie, to stand convicted as an imposter, or, more properly speaking, a nonentity. Her story is long since banished from all respectable society, although it contrives to keep up a disreputable and precarious existence in the outskirts and waste places of vagrant literature. We are even informed that it may be found printed under the auspices and sponsorship of societies and individuals considered respectable. If this be true, it is, for their sakes, to be regretted; and we beg leave severally to admonish the societies and individuals in question, in the words of the apostle: "Avoid foolish and old wives' fables: and exercise thyself to piety."

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Translated From The French.
The Approaching General Council.

By Mgr. Dupanloup, Bishop Of Orleans.

V.
The Help Offered By The Council.

This is the reason why that church, which is the friend of souls and which was never indifferent to the evils in society, is now so deeply moved. Undoubtedly the church and society are distinct; but journeying side by side in this world, and enclosing within their ranks the same men, they are necessarily bound together in their perils and in their trials. The church has called this assembly, therefore, because she feels that in regard to the evils which are common to both, she can do much to forward their removal.

However, let us be careful, as careful of exaggerating as of diminishing the truth. Does it depend upon the church to destroy every human vice? No. But in this great work, in this rude conflict of the good against the bad, she has her part, an important part, and she wishes to perform it. Man is free, and he does good of his own free-will. But he is also aided by divine grace, which assists him without destroying his liberty; for as the great Pope St. Celestine said, "Free-will is not taken away by the grace of God, but it is made free." Being the treasury of celestial goods, the church is man's divine assistant, and lends him, even in the temporal order, a supernatural aid. If to-day she is assembling in Rome, and, as it were, is collecting her thoughts, it is only in order to accomplish her task, to work more successfully and powerfully for the welfare of mankind.

"Who can doubt," exclaims the Holy Father, "that the doctrine of the Catholic Church has this virtue, that it not only serves for the eternal salvation of man, but that it also helps the temporal welfare of society, their real prosperity, good order and tranquillity?" And who will deny the social and refining influence of the church? "Religion! Religion!" an eminent statesman [Footnote 9] has recently said, "it is the very life of humanity! In every place, at all times, save only certain seasons of terrible crisis and shameful decadence. Religion to restrain or to satisfy human ambition--religion to sustain or to reconcile us to our sorrows, the sorrows both of our worldly station and of our soul. Let not statesmanship, though it be at once the most just and the most ingenious, flatter itself that it is capable of accomplishing such a work without the help of religion. The more intense and extended is the agitation of society, the less able is any state policy to direct startled humanity to its end. A higher power than the powers of earth is needed, and views which reach beyond this world. For this purpose God and eternity are necessary."

[Footnote 9: M. Guizot]

Then, too, the Holy Father, after he has alluded to the beneficent influence of religion in the temporal order, proclaims anew the concord, so often affirmed by him, between faith and reason, and the mutual help which, in the designs of Providence, they are called to lend one to the other. "Even," he says, "as the church sustains society, so does divine truth sustain human science; the church supports the very ground beneath its feet, and in preventing it from wandering she advances its progress." Let those who vainly strive to claim science as an antagonist to the church understand these words! The head of the church does not fear science, he loves it, he praises it, and with pleasure he remembers that the Christian truths serve to aid its progress and to establish its durability. The most illustrious scholars who have appeared upon the earth, Leibnitz, Newton, Kepler, Copernicus, Pascal, Descartes, before whom the learned of the present time, if their pride has not completely blinded them, would feel of very little importance, think the same about this question as does the Sovereign Pontiff. This is demonstrated, adds the Pope, by the history of all ages with unexceptionable evidence. This too is the meaning of the well-known phrase of Bacon, "A little learning separates us from religion; but much learning leads us to it." Presumptuous ignorance or blind passion may forget it; but the greatest minds have always recognized the agreement of faith and science, the harmony between the church and society, and rejected this antagonism of modern times, which is so contrary to the testimony of history and the interests of truth.

But let us not allow an ambiguous expression to become the pretext for our opponent's attacks; how then does the church attempt to reform society? History has answered this question. Prejudice alone fancies that it has discovered some secret attack upon the legitimate liberty of the human mind. The Council of Rome will be the nineteenth Ecumenical Council, and the forty or fifty nations which will be represented there have all been converted in the same way; that is, they have been brought from barbarism to civilization by the authority of her words, by the grace of her sacraments, by the teaching of her pastors, and the examples of her saints. Such are the ways of God and the action of the church, sometimes seconded, but more frequently attacked, by human powers.

Instructor of souls, the church uses the method of all good education--authority and patience. Where there is doubt, she affirms; where there is denial, she insists; where there is division, she unites; she repeats for ever the same lessons, and what grand lessons they are! The true nature of God, the true nature of man, moral responsibility and free-will, the immortality of the soul, the sacredness of marriage, the law of justice, the law of charity, the inviolability of private rights and of property, the duty of labor, and the need of peace. This always, this everywhere, this to all men, to kings and to shepherds, to Greeks and to Romans, to England and to France, in Europe and in Australia, under Charlemagne or before Washington.

I dare to assert that the continuity of these affirmations creates order in society and in the human mind, just as certainly as the repeated rising of the same sun makes the order of the seasons and success in the culture of the earth. O philosopher, you who disdain the church! be candid and tell me what would have become of the idea of a personal God among the nations, had it not been for her influence? O Protestants and Greeks! admit that without the church the image of Jesus Christ would have been blotted out beneath your very eyes! O philanthropist and statesman! what would you do without her for the family and the sanctity of marriage?

What the church has once done, she is going to do again; what she has already said, she is going to repeat; she will continue her life, her course, her work, in the same spirit of wisdom and charity; she will continue to affirm to man's reason those great truths of which she is the guardian, and it is by this means, by this alone, though by it most energetically, that she will act on society.

It has been said that the religion of the masses of the people is the whole of their morality. Then since morality is the true source of good statesmanship and good laws, all the progress of a people must consist in making the first principles of justice influence more and more their private and public life. From this it follows that every people which increases in its knowledge of Christian truth will make substantial progress, while at the same time every people which attempts to solve the great questions that perplex mankind in any way opposed to the gospel of Christ will be in reality taking the wrong road which can only end in their utter destruction. Who expelled pagan corruption from the world, who civilized barbarians by converting them? Look at the East when Christianity flourished there; and look at it now under the rule of Islam! The influence of Christianity upon civilization is a fact as glaring as the sun. But the principles of the gospel are far from having given all that they contain, and time itself will never exhaust them, because they come out of an infinite depth.

Now, although the centuries have drawn from the Christian principle of charity, equality, and fraternity of man consequences which have revolutionized the old world; still all the social applications of this admirable doctrine are very far from having been made. It is even, as I believe, the peculiar mission of modern times to make this fruitful principle penetrate more completely than ever the laws and customs of nations. If the century does not wander from the path of Christian truth, it will establish political, social, and economic truths which will reflect upon it the greatest honor. But it is the mission of the church and her council to preserve these truths of revelation free from those interpretations which falsify their meaning.

Then every great declaration of the truths of the Bible, every explanation of the doubts and errors concerning it, every true interpretation of Christianity by the masses of the people is a work of progress, which is at once social and religious. This then is why the church is using every effort, or, as says the Holy Father, why she is exerting her strength more and more. This is the reason why Catholic bishops will come from every part of the world to consult with their chief.

It is in vain you say in your unjust and ignorant prejudice, the church is old, but the times are new. The laws of the world are also old; yet every new invention of which we are justly proud would not exist, and could not succeed, were it not for the application of those laws. You do not understand how pliant and yet how firm is the material of which her Divine Founder has built his church. He has given her an organization at once durable and progressive. Such is the depth and the fruitfulness of her dogmas, such too is the expansive character of her constitution, that she can never be outstripped by any human progress, and she is able to maintain her position under any political system. Without changing her creed in the least, she draws from her treasury, as our divine Lord said, things both new and old, from century to century, by measuring carefully the needs of the time. You will find that she is ever ready to adapt herself to the great transformations of society, and that she will follow mankind in all the phases of his career. The Christian revelation is the light of the world, and always will be; be assured that this is the reason why the coming council will be the dawn, not as many think the setting, of the church's glory.

VI.
The Unfounded Fears On The Subject Of The Council.

What then do timid Catholics and distrustful politicians fear? Ah! rather let mankind rejoice over the magnanimous resolution of Pius IX. It should be a solemn hope for those who believe, as well as for those who have not the happiness of believing. If you have the faith, you know that the spirit of God presides over such councils. Of course, since it will be composed of men, there may be possible weaknesses in that assembly. But there will also be devoted service to the church, great virtues, profound wisdom, a pure and courageous zeal for the glory of God and the good of souls, and an admirable spirit of charity; and, besides all this, a divine and superior power. God will, as ever, accomplish his work there.

"God," says Fénélon, "watches that the bishops may assemble when it is necessary, that they may be sufficiently instructed and attentive, and that no bad motive may induce those who are the guardians of the truth to make an untrue statement. There may be improper opinions expressed in the course of the examination. But God knows how to draw from them what he pleases. He leads them to his own end, and the conclusion infallibly reaches the precise point which God had intended."

But if one has the misfortune not to be a Christian and not to recognize in the church the voice of God, from simply a human point of view, can there be anything more worthy of sympathy and respect than this great attempt of the Catholic Church to work, so far as it is in her power, for the enlightenment and peace of the world? And what can be more august and venerable than the assembly of seven or eight hundred bishops, coming from Europe, Asia, Africa, the two Americas, and the most distant islands of Oceanica? Their age, their virtue, and their science make them the most worthy delegates from the countries in which they dwell, and the recognized representatives of men of the entire globe with whom they come in contact every day of their lives. It is a real senate of mankind, seen nowhere but at Rome. And although our mind should be filled with the most unjust prejudices, what conspiracy, what excess, what manifestation of party feeling need be feared from a meeting of old men coming from very different parts of the earth, almost every one a complete stranger to the others, having no bond of sympathy but a common faith and a common virtue? Where will we find on earth a more perfect expression, a more certain guarantee of wisdom, of wisdom even as men understand it? I have ventured to say that modern times, disgusted by experience with confidence in one man, have faith in their assemblies. But what gathering can present such a collection of the intelligent and the independent, such diversity in such unity? Who are these bishops? Read their mottoes:

"In the name of the Lord!"
"I bring Peace!"
"I wish for Light!"
"I diffuse Charity!"
"I shrink not from Toil!"
"I serve God!"
"I know only Christ!"
"All things to all men!"
"Overcome Evil by Good!"
"Peace in Charity!"

As to themselves, they have lost their proper names. Their signature is the name of a saint and the name of a city. Their own name is buried, like that of an architect, in the foundation stone of the building. Here are Babylon and Jerusalem; New York and Westminster; Ephesus and Antioch; Carthage and Sidon; Munich and Dublin; Paris and Pekin; Vienna and Lima; Toledo and Malines; Cologne and Mayence. And added to this, they are called Peter, Paul, John, Francis, Vincent, Augustin, and Dominic; names of great men who have established or enlightened various nations that profess Christianity, They do not bear the names of the past and present only, they also bear those of the future. One comes from the Red River, another from Dahomey, others from Natal, Victoria, Oregon, and Saigon. We are working for the future, although we are called men of the past. We are working for countries which to-day cannot boast a single city, and for people who are without a name. We go farther than science, even beyond commerce itself, until we find ourselves alone and beyond them all. When we cannot precede your most adventurous travellers, we tread eagerly in their footsteps; and why? To make Christians--that is to say, to make men, to make nations. What then do you fear? Why do you object to such a council when you entitle yourselves, with such proud confidence, the men of progress and the heralds of the future?

Will it be nations who are disturbed by the council? How can nations be menaced or betrayed by men who represent every nation of the civilized globe? The bishops love their countries; they live in them by their own free choice, and for the defence of their faith. Will the bishops of Poland meet the bishops of Ireland to plan the ruin of nations and the oppression of a fatherland? And is there a single French bishop, or one from England, or from any other country, who will yield to any one in patriotism, who does not claim to be as good a Frenchman, or Englishman, or citizen, as any one of his fellow-countrymen? Is our liberty placed in jeopardy? What can you fear from men who, from the days of the Catacombs up to the massacre of the Carmelites, have established Christianity only at the sacrifice of their life, and whose blood flowed freely in the days that liberty and the church suffered the same persecution? Will the bishops of America join those from Belgium and Holland in a conspiracy against liberty? Will the bishops from the East unite with the bishops of France, and so may other European countries, in sounding the praises of despotism?

No, no; there is nothing true in all these fears; they would be only silly phantoms were it not that they are the result of a hatred which foresees the good which will be done, and wishes to prevent it. What will the council do? I cannot say; God alone knows it at this hour. But I can say that it is a council, because eighteen centuries of Christianity and civilization know and affirm it; a council, hence it is the most worthy exemplification of moral force, it is the noblest alliance of authority and liberty that the human mind can conceive; and I may boldly assert that it never would have conceived it by its own power.

I am not going to mark out the limits of liberty and power. I do not intend now to show the characteristics of schism and heresy, of English or German Protestantism, or of the false orthodoxy of Russia. I will say only one word, and then proceed to make my conclusions. It is this. If the Christian churches wish to become again sisters, and if men wish to become brothers, they can never do it more certainly, more magnificently, or more tenderly than in a council, under the auspices and in the breast of that church which is their true mother.

Do you imagine that you discover different opinions in the church, and make this an obstacle? I would have the right to be astonished at your solicitude, but I will suppose you to be sincere, and I answer, You know very little about the church, Her enemies daily declare that our faith is a galling yoke, which holds us down and prevents us from thinking. And therefore, when they see that we do think, they are perfectly amazed. This is one of the conditions of the church's life, and the greatest amount of earnest thinking is always within her fold. It is true that we have an unchanging creed, that we are not like the philosophers outside of the church, who do little more than seek a doctrine, and endlessly begin again their searches. They are always calling everything in question, they are continually moving, but never reach any known destination. With us there are certain established definite points, about which we no longer dispute. And thus it is that the church has an immovable foundation, and is not built entirely in the air. Yet liberty also has its place in the church, Our anchors are strong and our view is unlimited; for beyond those doctrines which are defined there is an immense space. Even in dogma the Christian mind has yet a magnificent work to accomplish, which can be followed for ever, because, as I have already said, our dogmas, like God, have infinite depths, and Christian intelligence can always draw from them, but never drain them.

No one should therefore be astonished to see that Catholics argue about questions not included within the definitions of faith, many of which are difficult and complex, and which modern polemics has only made more obscure. The spirit of Christianity was long ago defined by St. Augustine in these memorable words: In necessary things unity, in doubtful things liberty, in all things charity. The course of centuries has changed nothing. Besides, I have before said, and I now repeat, that the council, precisely because it is ecumenical—that is, composed of representatives from all the churches in the world—bishops living under every political system and every variety of social customs—excludes necessarily the predominance of any particular school of a narrow and national spirit and of local prejudices. It will be the great catholic spirit, and not such and such particular notions, which will inspire its decisions; and whatever may happen to be the peculiar ideas of different schools or parties, the council will be the true light and unity. There will be complete liberty left in regard to all things not defined. But these definitions will be the Catholic rule of faith, and they should not disturb any one in advance. Again, they threaten nothing which is dear to you, men of this age, they threaten only error and injustice, which are your enemies as well as ours. If you wish to know the real opinions of this magnanimous pontiff, who is the object of so many odious and ungrateful calumnies, and of the bishops, his sons and his brothers; if you wish to conjecture the spirit of the future council, you will find it completely stated in these few words of Pius IX., which were addressed to some Catholic publicists, scarcely a year ago, and which have been inscribed on their standard as a sacred motto: "Christian charity alone can prepare the way for that liberty, fraternity, and progress which souls now ardently desire."

I cannot repeat too often, and you, my brethren of the holy ministry, cannot repeat too often, that great is the mistake of those who denounce the future council as a menace or a work of war. We live in a time in which we are condemned to listen to all. But nevertheless we are not bound to believe all. When, a year ago, the Pope announced to the bishops assembled in Rome his determination to convoke an ecumenical council, what did the bishops of the whole world see in this? A great work of illumination and pacification—these are the precise words of their address. The papal bull uses the same language. In this ecumenical council, what does the Pope ask his brothers, the bishops, to examine, to investigate with all possible care, and to decide with him? Before everything else, it is that which relates to the peace of all and to universal concord.

And when I read the bull carefully, what do I see on every page and in each line? The expression of solicitude well worthy the father of souls, and not less for civil society than for the church. He never separates them. He is careful always to say that their evils and their perils are mutual. The same tempest beats them both with the same waves. At this time, which is called a period of transition, religion and society are both passing through a formidable crisis. There are men to-day who would wish to destroy the church if they could; and who, at the same time, would shake society from its very foundations. And it is for the purpose of bringing help to them both, and to avert the evils which menace them together, that the holy father has conceived the idea of a council. The reason given by him to the bishops is precisely to examine this critical situation, and suggest the remedy for this double wound. These are his words: "It is necessary that our venerable brothers, who feel and deplore as we do the critical situation of the church and society, should strive with us and with all their power to avert from the church and society, by God's help, all the evils which are afflicting them."

It has been told that the Pope wished to break off friendly relations with modern society, to condemn and proscribe it, to give it as much trouble as lies within his power. Yet never have the trials which you endure, Christian nations, more sadly moved the head of the church, never has his soul poured forth more sympathetic accents, than for your perils and your sorrows. And it has been noticed by every one, pillaged of three-fourth of his little territory, reduced to Rome and its surrounding country, placed between the dangers of yesterday and those of to-morrow, suspended, as it were, over a precipice, the Pope seems never to think of these things; he does not seek to defend his menaced throne; not a sentence, not a single word, about his own interests; no, in the bull of convocation the temporal prince is forgotten and is silent—the pontiff alone has spoken to the world.

VII
The Council And The Separated Churches

But all has not yet been said, Other hopes may be conceived of the future council. We delight in anticipating other great results. The letters of the Holy Father to the Eastern bishops and to our separated Protestant brethren give us good ground for hope.

At two fatal epochs in the history of the world, two great divisions have been made in this empire of souls which we call the church—twice has the seamless robe of Christ been rent by schism and heresy. These are the two great misfortunes of mankind, and the two most potent causes which have retarded the world's progress. Who does not admit this? If the old Greek empire had not so sadly broken with the West, it would have never been the prey of Islamism, which has so deeply degraded it, and which even now holds it under an iron yoke. Nor would it have drawn into its schism another vast empire, in whose breast seventy millions of souls groan beneath a despotism which is both political and religious.

And who can say what the Christian people of Europe would be today, were it not for Lutheranism, Calvinism, and so many other divisions? These unhappy separations have made Christianity lose its active power in retaining many souls in the light of divine revelation which have since been wrested from it by incredulity. And who can tell us how much they have retarded the diffusion of the gospel in heathen countries?

Sorrowful fact! There are even now millions of men upon whom the light of the gospel has never shone, and who remain sunken in the shadows of infidelity. Think of the poor pagans on the shores of distant isles! They are vaguely expecting a Saviour; they stretch their arms toward the true God; they cry out by the voice of their miseries and their sufferings for light, truth, salvation, Eighteen centuries ago, Jesus Christ came to bring these good tidings to the world, and spoke these great words to his apostles, "Preach the gospel to every creature!" The church alone has apostles of Jesus Christ, emulators of that Peter and Paul who landed one day upon the coast of Italy to preach the same gospel to our fathers and to die together for the same faith.

But poor Indians! poor Japanese! Following the apostles of the Catholic Church sent by the successor of him to whom Jesus Christ said, "Thou art Peter, and on this rock I will build my church," we see other missionaries who come to oppose them. But who sends them? Is it Jesus Christ? What, then, is Christ, as St. Paul asked of the dissidents of the first century, divided? Is not this, I ask you, a dreadful misfortune for the poor infidels? And is it not enough to make every Christian shed tears?

And union, if it were only possible, (and why should it not be, since it is the wish of our Saviour)—union, especially because now the way is open and distance has almost vanished, would it not be a great and happy step toward that evangelization of every creature which Jesus charged his apostles and their successors to begin when he had left the earth?

Yes, every soul in which the spirit of Jesus dwells should feel within a martyrdom when it considers these divisions, and repeat to heaven the prayer of our Saviour and the cry for unity, "My Father, that they may be all one, as you and I are one." This is the great consideration which influenced the head of the Catholic Church when, forgetting his own dangers, and moved by this care for all the churches which weighs so heavily upon him, he convoked an ecumenical council. He turns toward the East and to the West, and addresses to all the separated communions a word of peace, a generous call for unity. Whatever may be the way in which his appeal is received, who does not recognize, in this most earnest effort for the union of all Christians, a thought from heaven, inspired by Him who willed that his Church should be one, and who said, as the Holy Father has been pleased to recall, "It is by this that you will be known to be my disciples"?

But will our brethren of the East and West respond to this thought, this wish? The East! Who is not moved before this cradle of the ancient faith, from whence the light has come to us? I saw the Catholic bishops of the East trembling with joy at the announcement of the future council, and expecting their churches to awake to a new life and to a fruitful activity. But will the Eastern churches refuse to hear these "words of peace and charity" that the Holy Father has lately addressed to them "from the depths of his heart"? [Footnote 10] And why should they be deaf to this appeal? For what antiquated or chimerical fears? Who has not recognized and been deeply touched by the goodness of the pontiff? How delicately, and with what accents of particular tenderness, does the Holy Father speak of our Oriental brethren, who, in the midst of Mohammedan Asia, "recognize and adore, even as we do, our Lord Jesus Christ," and who, "redeemed by his most precious blood, have been added to his church!" What consideration does he manifest for these ancient churches, to-day so unfortunately detached from the centre of unity, but who formerly "showed so much lustre by their sanctity and their celestial doctrine, and produced abundant fruits for the glory of God and the salvation of souls!" [Footnote 11]

[Footnote 10: Apostolic Letter of Pius IX., September 8th, 1868.]
[Footnote 11: ibidem.]

And, at the same time, we must admire his gentleness, his forgetfulness of all his irritating grievances. The Holy Father speaks only of peace and charity. He asks only one thing, and that is, that "the old laws of love should be renewed, and the peace of our fathers, that salutary and heavenly gift of Christ, which for so long a time has disappeared, may be firmly re-established; that the pure light of this long-desired union may appear to all after the clouds of such a wearisome sorrow, and the sombre and sad obscurity of such long dissensions." [Footnote 12]

[Footnote 12: Ibidem.]

But let the Eastern bishops know that this deep longing for peace and union is not found in the heart of the Holy Father alone; the bishops and all the Christians of the West, how can they help desiring this most happy event? Can there be any good gained in keeping the robe of Christ torn asunder? And what—I ask it in charity and for information—what can the churches of the old Orient gain by not communicating with those of the entire universe? Who prevents them? Are we yet in the time of the metaphysical subtleties and cavils of the Lower Empire?

I have already alluded to the infidel nations. Let my brethren, the Eastern bishops, permit me to recall to them what is at this moment the state of the entire world and the situation of the church of Christ in all its various parts. If in every time the church of Christ has had to struggle, is she not now more than ever before resisted and fought against? Is not the spirit of revolution—and, unfortunately, it is an impious one—rising against her on every side? And you, Eastern churches, whether you are united or not, have you not also your dangers? Is not your spiritual liberty unceasingly threatened? Is not Christianity with you surrounded by determined enemies—at your right, at your left, on every side? And will not the storm of impiety which now disturbs Europe, since distance is no more an obstacle, burst upon Asia, and will not the Christian races of the East become contaminated by the repeated efforts of an irreligious press?

In such a critical situation, when every danger is directed against the church of Jesus Christ by the misfortunes of the time, the first need of all Christians is to put an end to division which enfeebles, and to seek in reconciliation and peace that union which is strength. What bishop, what true Christian, will meditate upon these things, and then say, "No, division is a good; union would be an evil"? On the contrary, who does not see that union, the return to unity, is the certain good of souls, the manifest will of God, and will be the salvation of your churches? What follows from this? Can there be any personal considerations, any human motives whatsoever, superior to these great interests and these grave obligations? Your fathers, those illustrious doctors, Athanasius, Gregory of Nazianzen, Basil, Cyril, Chrysostom, did not find it hard to bend their glorious brows before him whom they call "the firm and solid rock on which the Saviour has built his church." [Footnote 13] If they were living to-day, would they not, as Christians, and most nobly, too, trample upon an independence which is not according to Christ, but which is merely the suggestion of a blind pride? If past centuries have committed faults, do you wish to make them eternal?

[Footnote 13: Ibidem; words of St. Gregory of Nazianzen, quoted by the Holy Father.]

But the time, if you will hear its lessons, will bring before your mind the gravest duties. You who are surrounded on one side by despotism, and on the other by Mohammedanism, surely, you cannot fail to feel the peril of isolation, and the fatal consequences of disunion.

May God preserve me from uttering a word which can be, even in the most remote way, painful to you; for I come to you at this moment with all the charity of Jesus Christ.

Indeed, whether I think of those unhappy races whose souls and whose country have become sterile under the yoke of the religion of Mohammed, or whether I turn my eye toward those great masses of Russians, grave in their manners, religious, who have remained in the faith, notwithstanding the degradation of their churches, and notwithstanding the supremacy of a czar whose pretended orthodoxy has never inspired even the least pity and justice for Poland! equally do I feel the depths of my soul moved to pray for those many nations who are worthy of our interest and our sincere compassion. O separated brothers of the East!—Greeks, Syrians, Armenians, Chaldeans, Bulgarians, Russians, and Sclavonians, all whom I cannot call by name—see the Catholic Church is coming toward you, she stretches out her arms to embrace you! O brothers! come!

She is going to assemble, as the whole church, from all parts of the civilized world. From our West, from your East, from the New World, also, and from far distant islands, her bishops are now hastening to answer the call of the supreme chief, to meet at Rome, the centre of unity. But ah! she does not wish to assemble her council without your presence, O brothers! come!

This is one of those solemn and infrequent occasions which will take centuries before its equal is seen. The church offers peace. "With all our strength we pray you, we urge you, to come to this General Council, as your ancestors came to the Council of Lyons and the Council of Florence, in order to renew union and peace." [Footnote 14] But, On your Side, will you refuse to take a single step toward us, and allow this most favorable opportunity to escape? Who will venture to take this formidable responsibility upon himself? O brothers! come!

[Footnote 14: Ibidem.]

The heart of the church of Jesus Christ does not change; but the times change, and the causes which have, unhappily, made the efforts of our fathers fail, now, thank God, no longer exist. Then I say to you all, O brothers! come!

In regard to ourselves, we are full of hope; and, whatever may be the resistance that the first surprise, or perhaps old prejudices, have made, everything seems to us to be ready for a return. "Rome," said Bossuet, in former times—"Rome never ceases to cry to even the most distant people, that she may invite them to the banquet, where all are made one; and see how the East trembles at her maternal voice, and appears to wish to give birth to a new Christianity!"

O God! would that we could see this spectacle! What joy would it be for thy church on earth, in the midst of so many rude combats, and such bitter affliction! What joy for the church in heaven! And what joy, churches of the East, for your doctors and your saints, "when from the height of heaven they see union established with the apostolic see, centre of catholic truth and unity; a union that, during their life here below, they labored to promote, to teach by all their studies, and by their indefatigable labors, by their doctrine and their example, inflamed as they were with the charity poured into their hearts by the Holy Spirit, for Him who has reconciled and purchased peace at the price of his blood; who wished that peace should be the mark of his disciples, and who made this prayer to his Father, 'May they be one as we are one.'" [Footnote 15]

[Footnote 15: Ibidem. Unity will be the eternal characteristic of the true church. Every question concerning the church is reduced finally to this question, Where is unity?]

Oh! then, listen to the language of the church, the true church of Jesus Christ, who alone, among all Christian societies, raises a maternal voice, and demands again all her children, because she is their true mother! This is the reason why the Sovereign Pontiff, after he has spoken to the separated East, turns toward other Christian yet not catholic communions, and addresses to all our brothers of Protestantism the same urgent appeal.

Protestantism! "Ah!" exclaimed Bossuet, in his ardent love, in his zealous wish for unity, "our heart beats at this name, and the church, always a mother, can never, when she remembers it, repress her sighs and her desires." These are sighs and desires which we have heard from the Holy Father in an apostolic letter written a few days after the Brief addressed to the Eastern bishops, to "all Protestants and other non-Catholics," and in which he deplores the misfortunes of separation, and shows the great advantage of the unity desired by our Lord. "He exhorts, he begs all Christians separated from him to return to the cradle of Jesus Christ. … In all our prayers and supplications we do not cease to humbly ask for them, both day and night, light from heaven, and abundant grace from the eternal Pastor of souls, and with open arms we are waiting for the return of our wandering children." [Footnote 16]

[Footnote 16: Apostolic Letters of September 13th, 1868.]

See, then, what the Holy Father says, and, together with him, the whole church. Shall we hope and pray always in vain? Will the work of returning be as difficult as many think it? I know that prejudices are yet deep; and the difficulty that the work of tardy justice meets with in England is one proof among others; but it is the business of a council to explain misunderstandings, and, by appeasing the passions, prepare the mind to return to the church. And, should any one be tempted to think me deluded, I will answer that among those of our separated brethren who are not carried away by the sad current of rationalism, there is a daily increasing number who regret the loss of unity. I affirm that this is true of America, that it is true of England, I will answer, too, that more than once I have been made the recipient of grief-stricken confidence, and heard from suffering hearts the longing desire for the day in which will be fulfilled the words of the Master, "There shall be one fold and one shepherd." Will this day never come? Are divisions necessary? And why should we not be the ones destined to see the days predicted and hailed with joy by Bossuet? Here, undoubtedly, the dogmatic objections are serious. But they will disappear, if the gravest difficulty of all, in my opinion, is removed; and that difficulty is the negation of all doctrinal authority in the church, that absolute liberty of examination, which, willingly or unwillingly, is certain to be confounded with the principles of rationalism. It is for this reason that Protestantism bears in its breast the original sin of a radical inconsistency, which is lamented by the most vigorous and enlightened minds of their communion. And it is upon this that we rely, at least for numerous individual conversions, and, by God's grace, perhaps for the reconciliation of a large number.

If this essential point is solved—and the solution is not difficult to simple good sense and courageous faith—all the rest will become easy. Reason says, with self-evident truth, that Jesus Christ did not intend to found his church without this essential principle of stability and unity. He did not propose to found a religion incapable of living and perpetuating itself, abandoned to the caprice of individual interpretations. This is so clear of itself that it does not need to be supported by any text of the Bible.

But there are texts which, to persons of candid mind, and without any great argument, are equally convincing. I will repeat only three; the first, "Thou art Peter," the primacy of St. Peter and the head of the church; the second, "This is my body," the most blessed sacrament; the third, "Behold thy mother," behold your mother, the Blessed Virgin, Are you able to efface these three sentences from the Gospel? Have you meditated upon them sufficiently, and upon many others which are not less decisive? Then from the Bible pass to history, and from texts to facts.

Do not facts tell you plainly that the living element of complete Christianity is wanting in you? For, on the one hand, you have had time to understand thoroughly the authors of rupture; and, on the other, you are now able to consider its results. For three centuries you have been reading the Bible; for three centuries you have been studying history. Have not these three centuries taught you a new and solemn lesson? The principle of Protestantism, by developing, has borne its fruits; and the predictions of catholic doctors in ancient controversies are realized every day beneath your eyes. Contemporaneous Protestantism is more and more rapidly dissolving into rationalism; many of her ministers acknowledge that they have no longer any supernatural faith; and recently a cry of alarm, proceeding from her bosom, has resounded even in our political assemblies. But a cry lost in the air! Dissolution will go on, notwithstanding noble efforts and Christian resistance, always increasing and ruining more thoroughly this incomplete Christianity, which needs the essential power that preserves and maintains, and which is nothing else than authority. To lose Christianity in pure sophistry, this is the tendency of modern Protestants, whether they are willing to admit it or not. But good may come from an excess of evil, And what is more calculated to enlighten many deceived but well-meaning souls concerning the radical fault of Protestantism than this spectacle of disintegration by the side of the powerful unity of the Catholic Church, and the council which is going to be its living manifestation?

There is another hope, little in accordance with human probabilities, I know, but which my faith in the Divine mercy does not forbid me to entertain, and that is, that even the Jews themselves, the children of Israel, who, associating with us, lead to-day the same kind of social life, will feel something touch their hearts and bring them, docile at last, to the voice of St. Paul, to the fold of the church. In the Jews, indeed, so long and so evidently punished, I cannot help recognizing my ancestors in the faith; the children of Moses, the countrymen of Joseph and Mary, of Peter and Paul, and of whom it is written, that they "who are Israelites, to whom belongeth the adoption as of children, and the glory and the testament, and the giving of the law and the service of God and the promises: whose are the fathers, and of whom is Christ, according to the flesh, who is over all things, God blessed for ever, Amen." [Footnote 17] I beg them, therefore, to believe in Him whom they are yet expecting; I beg them to believe eighteen hundred years of history; for history, like a fifth gospel, proves the coming and divinity of the Messiah.

[Footnote 17: Romans ix. 4, 5.]

Do not feel astonished, then, to see me full of compassion for Protestant, Greek, and Jew, while I am accused of being severe toward the abettors of modern scepticism. I recognize the difference between errors which are nearly finished, and errors which are just beginning; between responsible and guilty authors who knowingly spread false doctrines, and their innocent victims, who, after centuries, still cling to them. How can I help being moved to tears when I see the people of my country, its mechanics and its farmers, so industrious and so worthy of sympathy, young men of our schools, whose active minds call for the truth, both fall, almost before they are aware of it, into the hands of teachers of error? When the reawakening of faith was so perceptible a few years ago, and a decisive progress toward good seemed to be accomplished, how quickly did the shadows gather around us; dismal precipices opened beneath our feet, the breath of an impious science and violent press became most potent, and the beautiful bark of faith and French prosperity seemed ready to sink before she had fairly left her port! Ah! I do, indeed, execrate the authors of that cruel wreck, while I feel myself full of pity for the many sincere souls I see among our separated brethren, living in error, it is true, but they have never made error live! With warmth I extend to such captive souls a friendly hand. Let them come back to the church; for she it is who guards Jesus Christ, the God of the whole truth, and invites them to this great banquet of the Father of the family, where, as Bossuet has well said, "all are made one."

May the coming council, in its work of enlightenment and pacification, reconcile to us many souls who are already ours by their sincerity, their virtue, and, as I know of many, even by their desires. Let, at least, this be the heartfelt wish of every Catholic! Yes, let us open our hearts with more warmth than ever to these beloved brethren; let us wish—it is the desire of the Holy Father—that the future council may be a powerful and happy effort, and let us repeat unceasingly to heaven the prayer of the Master, "May they be one, as we are one."

VIII.
The Catholic Church.

And you, whom the duties of my position compel me to address persistently—in time and out of time, says St. Paul—adversaries of my faith, though I speak to you with austere words upon my lips, still know that it is with charity in my heart toward you all, whether philosophers, Protestants, or indifferent to all religion, yea, I would wish my voice could reach the most wretched pagan lost in the shadow of the superstition which yet covers half the globe. O brethren! I would that you could taste for a single moment the deep peace that one feels who lives and dies in the arms of the church! Bear witness with me to this peace, my brethren of the priesthood, and every Christian of every rank and of all ages! When one knows that he is surrounded by this light, assured by her promises, preceded by those sublime creatures who are called saints, and whose glory in heaven the church of the earth salutes, bound by tradition to all the Christian centuries by the successors of the apostles, and founded, at last, upon Jesus Christ, what joy! what a company! what power! and what repose in light and certainty!

I am firmly convinced, and each day brings forth a new proof, that the enemies of the church do not really detest her. No; the dominant sentiment among our enemies is not always hatred. There is another feeling which they do not admit, which is far more frequent among them, This is envy. Yes; they envy us; the atheist, at the moment he is insulting a Christian, says secretly to himself, "Oh! how happy he is!"

Let us not credit that which we hear said against the church, that her majestic face has been for ever disfigured by calumny, and that henceforth men can only see in her a mistress of tyranny and ignorance. These violent prejudices certainly do have an influence; our faults and our enemies undertake the business of propagating them. But the church, in spite of this—and the ecumenical council will prove this again to the world—will not be any less the church of Christ, "without blemish and without spot," notwithstanding the imperfections of her children; and there is not one among those that attack her who can tell us what evil the church has ever done to him. "My people, what have I done to thee?"

What evil! Citizens of town and country, you owe to the Catholic Church the purity of your children, the fidelity of your wives, the honesty of your neighbor, the justice of your laws, the gay festival which breaks in upon the monotony of your daily lives, the little picture which hangs upon your wall; and, more than these, you owe her the sweet expectation which waits by the cemetery and the tomb! This is the evil she has done you—this enemy of the human race!

And if you can raise your thought above yourself, above your own interests, above your homes; if you allow your thoughts to soar higher than the smoke which curls above your roofs, what a grand spectacle does the Catholic Church present! She is great and good, even in the little history of our life—greater and far better does she appear in the history of the laborious developments of human society. Inseparable companion of man upon this earth, she struggles and she suffers with him; she has assisted, inspired, guided humanity in all its most painful and glorious transformations. It was she who made virtues, the very name of which was yet unknown, rise up from the midst of pagan corruption; and souls, so pure, so noble, so elevated, that the world still falls upon its knees before them.

It was she who tamed and transformed barbarians; and who, during the long and perilous birth of modern races in the middle ages, has courageously fought the evil, and presided over all progress. And it must be again the Catholic Church which will help modern society to disengage from the midst of its confused elements that which disturbs its peace, the principles of life from the germs of death, by maintaining firmly those truths which alone can save it.

Ah! we do not know the Catholic Church well enough. We live within her fold, we are a part of her, and yet we do not understand her. We ignore both what she was and what she is in the world, and the mission God has given her, and the living forces, the divine privileges, bestowed upon her, so that she may accomplish eternally her task upon the earth, to maintain immutably here below truth and goodness, and to remain for ever, as an apostle said of her, "the pillar and the ground of truth."

Surely, we never hear it made a matter of reproach that a pillar remains unchanged; what would become of the edifice, if the pillar were to leave its place? Why, then, reproach the church for being immovable, and why is not this immobility salutary for you? What will you do when there are tremblings in regard to the truth like the trembling of the earth? While you must disperse, we are uniting. What you are losing, we are defending. We can say to modern doctrines, "We knew you at Alexandria and at Athens; both you, your mothers, your daughters, and your allies." The church can say to the nations, when the Pope has gathered their ambassadors: "France, thou hast been formed by my bishops; thy cities and their streets bear their names! England, who has made thee, and why wert thou once called the isle of saints? Germany, thou hast entered into the civilization of the West by my envoy, St. Boniface. Russia, where wouldst thou now be, were it not for my Cyril and my Methodius? Kings, I have known your ancestors. Before Hapsburg, or Bourbon, or Romanoff, or Brunswick, or Hohenzollern—before Bonaparte or Carignan, I was old; for I have seen the Caesars and the Antonies die; to-morrow I will be, for I am ever the same. Do you answer that it will be without money, without dwelling, without power? It may be so, for I have endured these proofs a hundred times, always ready to address to nations the little sentence Jesus once spoke to Zaccheus, 'This day I must abide in thy house.' If I leave Rome, I will go to London, to Paris, or to New York." It is only of the church and of the sun that it can be said that to-morrow they will certainly rise; and this is the reason that the church, in the midst of the disturbances of the present time, boldly announces her council.

Admirable spectacle, that our century would wish not to admire, but whose grandeur it is forced to acknowledge. Yes, many a wearied eye rests with irresistible emotion upon this stately pillar, standing alone in the midst of the ruins of the past and of the actual destruction of all human greatness. The indifferent feel troubled, surprised, attracted at the sight of the church testifying her immortal power by this great act; and after they have exhausted all their doctrines, they are tempted to exclaim to the Supreme Pontiff that which Peter, the first pontiff, once said to Jesus, "Master, to whom shall we go? you have the words of eternal life."

Hear the words of life, you who doubt, who search, who suffer! Hear them also, you who triumph, who rejoice, who lord it over your fellowman! Hear the words that the church calls her little children to repeat at every rising of the sun: Credo, I believe! I believe in one God, the Creator. See, savants, here is the answer to your uncertainties. Credo, I believe! I believe in a Saviour of the world who has consecrated purity by his birth, confounded pride by his precepts, rebuked injustice by his sufferings, and proved his divinity and immortality by his resurrection, I believe in Jesus Christ! See in him, poor, afflicted humanity, poor, oppressed people, an answer to your despair. Credo, I believe! I believe in the Holy Ghost, in the Holy Catholic Church, the communion of saints, the forgiveness of sins, in the judgment, and in a life of everlasting happiness to those who have fought the good battle. See in our creed, O Protestants and philosophers! so divided in your affirmations, so narrow in your hopes, the response to your disputes. See in it, oppressive monarch, the answer to your iniquities! And see, also, O pitiless death! the answer to your terrors.

To love, to hope, to believe! Everything is contained in these words; and it is the church who alone can preserve in unshaken majesty and in the universal truth this Credo, that the nineteenth century, now in the dawn of the twentieth, is going to repeat with the two hundred and sixty-second successor of the fisherman Peter, first apostle of Jesus Christ.

But, brothers, let us cease speaking; let us cease disputing, let us cease fearing, let us bend the knee and pray!

O God! who knows the secret of your Providence, and who knows the wonders which the church will yet display to the world, if men's faults and their passion do not retard her? If religion and society, leaning one upon the other, should advance, with mutual concord, on their blessed course, what great steps would there be toward the establishment of your reign upon the earth, toward the progress of nations, toward liberty by the way of truth, toward the real fraternity of men, toward the extinction of revolution and of war, toward the peace of the world. Then a new era would open before us, and a new great century appear in history. Let us throw open our souls to these hopes; let us beg these blessings of God, and let us foresee possible misfortunes only to prevent them. Let it be known at least that Catholics are not men of discouragement, of dark predictions, or of peevish menaces; but men of charity, of noble hopes, of peaceful effort, and, at the same time, of generous struggle.

Let us invoke St. Peter and St. Paul; let us invoke the Virgin Mary, Mother of Jesus, the honor and the heavenly guardian of the race of man; and, united to the souls of all the saints, let us pray to the adorable Trinity reigning in heaven!

Let us pray that the council may be able to fulfill its task; that the Christian world will not repel this great effort which the church is making to help them; that light may find its way into their minds, and that their hearts may be softened! That misunderstandings may be explained, prejudices removed; that unreasonable fears may disappear, and that Christianity, and consequently civilization, may flourish with a new and more vigorous youth. May the return to the church, so much desired and so necessary, take place!

Let us pray for the monarchs of the world, that the wish and formal request that the Holy Father made them in his letter may be granted, May they cast aside all silly objections, and favor by the liberty they give the bishops the future assembly of the church, and let her council meet in peace.

Let us pray, too, for their people, that they may understand the maternal intentions of the church; and, closing their ears to calumny, may hear with confidence and accept with docility the words of their mother.

Let us pray even for the avowed enemies of the church, that they make a truce with their suspicions and their anger until the church has announced, in her council and under the inspiration of the Holy Ghost, her decrees whose wisdom and charity can hardly fail to touch them.

Let us pray for so many men of good faith, men of science, statesmen, the heads of families, workmen, men of honor, whom the light of Jesus Christ has not yet enlightened, that they may now receive its beneficent rays.

Let us pray that the anxious wishes of so many mothers, sisters, wives, and daughters, who, in obscurity, are maintaining purity and holiness in their families, often without being able to bring our holy faith there, may at length be heard.

Let us pray for the East and the West, that they may be reconciled; and for our separated brethren, that they may leave the division which is destroying them, and answer the urgent appeal of the holy church, and come to throw themselves in those arms which have been open to receive them for three centuries.

Let us pray for the church, for her faithful children, and for her ministers, that each day may find them more pure, more holy, more learned, more charitable; so that our faults may not be an obstacle to the reign of that God whose love we are appointed to make known.

Let us also pray for the Holy Father. Deign, O God! to preserve him to your church, and enable this great pontiff, who has not feared, even amid the troubles of the age, to undertake the laborious work of a council, to see its happy issue! May he, after so many trials, bravely borne, rejoice in the triumph of the church, before he goes to receive in heaven the reward of his labors and his virtues!

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