I.
So great and painful are the sufferings and terror now weighing upon the nations of Europe that, setting every other subject aside, it is toward that the mind necessarily turns, and we will accordingly lay before our readers the deeply rooted convictions we entertain, not merely in reference to the year gone by, but to that on which we are just entering. These convictions take within their scope the present most deplorable and shameful condition of Europe, and a future that cannot be very far distant. But which of these subjects shall we undertake to discuss? Or, were we to satisfy the necessity there seems for the treatment of both, should we be thereby exceeding the limit of our obligation as journalists? Nothing is easier, nothing more agreeable in our case, than to satisfy both the one and the other. For, if we place before our readers our reflections on the present and future of the Christian nations of Europe, we shall be at the same time defining and specifying the principal field of our studies.
I will then examine into the reasons of the present condition of the church and of civilization, and I will do so with a mind as free as may be from prejudice and the heat of passion. After judging of events by the great laws of history, I will endeavor to trace out the path which ideas and facts must follow at no distant period. My words will indeed be addressed in an especial manner to the true children of the church, but I do not doubt that they will indirectly reach some who are removed and even separated from us. Neither do I deny that I am animated by the hope of helping to sustain the courage of my brethren, so that each one may be able to say to himself, Modicæ fidei quare dubitasti.
II.
Towards the close of the year 1869, and the commencement of the year that followed, two solemn utterances resounded through Europe and agitated the nations of the universe. The first of these proceeded from the Roman Pontiff, the convener of the Œcumenical Council; the other was the cry of modern civilization, proclaiming its own power and its ideas of universal progress. Both utterances were of solemn import, but the one was in contradiction to the other. The first, or that of the Pontiff, with all the weight of his divine authority, laid open to view the true principles of the other, and strove to reclaim it to Christ with the new and more effulgent light of truth and the more ardent fire of charity. Such words ought indeed to have found an echo and penetrated through every fibre of the universe, for they were in substance the language of love; from love they came, and to love they tended. Had they thus been accepted by the nations, we should not have had now so many sufferings to undergo, nor been menaced by a future still more calamitous. The other utterance, that of modern civilization, inspired by the idea that it was an invincible and independent power, spurned the thought not merely of supernatural aid, but even of supernatural authority. Moreover, in proof of its power, it collected then under distinct heads all the evidences of the progress of the present age, proffering them as an infallible guarantee of new and still greater progress in the immediate future. Thousands listened with credulity to such language, and, opening their hearts to glorious dreams of the future, exulted over the hopes they had conceived with a joy whose folly was unquestionable, though it would be hard to pronounce whether it proceeded most from impiety or pride. It is, however, a satisfaction to speak with boldness and candor, calling things by their right names: such joy was foolish, because it was at once both proud and impious. The words of the Supreme Pontiff were derided, and abuse and calumnies of every description were heaped with a lavish hand on the acts of the Œcumenical Council.
Now, assuming the active opposition of these two powers, what consequences must result from it in the domain of facts? The problem is unquestionably an important one, and we must treat it by first going back and tracing it downward from first principles.
III.
The decree of the Pope when summoning an Œcumenical Council may be defined as the supreme exercise of his authority; and the council so assembled is the greatest and most universal act of the power of good with which the church has been invested; she who is the City of God, yet a pilgrim upon earth. Reasoning on these same questions, a year ago, I recollect having thus expressed myself: "Assuming that the life of the Catholic Church is charity both in its source and its organization, and that the Papacy is the central seat of charity; what, then, is the Œcumenical Council, that supreme act of the Papacy and the church? The answer is not difficult: it is the supreme act of charity peculiar to Catholicity, and is therefore that power of supernatural love which is alone strong enough to combat with and put to flight the gigantic and many-sided egotism of the times we live in."
Now, such an act of this all-powerful charity did the church initiate on the 8th day of December, 1869—a day that will live for ever in the memory of posterity, and never fail to be spoken of with blessings. To the eyes of Catholics, the Council of the Vatican appeared—and such it is—a new and living fountain of hope. It seemed as if the yearnings of three centuries and many generations were at last to be gratified by this council. It seemed, in a special manner, as if the tendencies and wants of the nineteenth century converged toward this council, like rays to a common centre. And here, the better to understand the truth of these sentiments, we trust it will not be unacceptable to our readers if we lay before them what we ourselves—partakers in and witnesses of the universal conscience—published on the very day on which the Œcumenical Council opened in the Vatican:
"And, in truth, what is the council in relation to the nineteenth century? It is the desire of all, a something longed and sighed for by all minds and all hearts, the ideal of the noblest and most generous aspirations that now assert their sway over the spirit of man. Nor is it that only, but it is likewise what was needed to meet the most urgent and widespread want of our age. It will doubtless appear strange to very many that the council should be styled the desire of all men, but such is nevertheless the fact; consciously or unconsciously, all longed for it: all, those who hail it and those who curse it, those who believe in it and those who despise it. Yes, all; he who exalts our age, and he who bewails its errors, he whose heart is rejoiced, and he who sheds tears over the events of our century; princes and people, the priesthood and the laity, religion and civilization, faith and science. Assuredly, were any additional proof necessary to demonstrate to conviction, by the evidence of reason and history, that the Papacy is the heart of humanity, the heart in which all the aspirations of humanity converge and unite, here would be the proof in the summons that convened this Œcumenical Council. For, from the various and opposite judgments passed upon our age, some in adulation, others in blame, one thing is evident, and all agree in admitting it, that the tendencies of our age are directed by a twofold attraction toward union and liberty. These guiding influences are in themselves most powerful, noble, and exalted, because they mirror the infinite, absolute, and supreme unity of God. Liberty is the image and proof of the Infinite Being, for he alone is truly free, and the spirit which tends by love toward him is adorned with liberty, and possesses the power of reducing its free will to act. Union is the shadow and effect of the divine union, because the one God, one Truth, one Good, one Beauty, can alone sweetly and strongly bring into accord the wills and understandings of men, and cause them to harmonize in the limitless range of space, and the vicissitude and diversity of time."