Just at this time came another token that the content or indifference with which the Roman Catholic world watched the impending change in its Church and creed was broken in exceptional cases. An accomplished French oratorian, a member of the Academy, Father Gratry, published a letter on January 18, which in almost any other country than France, coming from such a man on such a subject, at such a moment, would have caused, not a passing talk, but a profound impression. All the abuse was no longer for Döllinger and Montalembert. Father Gratry had a share allotted to him, sufficient to prove his importance. "Does God need your lies?" was a question he repeated with solemnity, as he dwelt on the false decretals and on the falsifications even of the breviary. His French clearness and point sent these reproaches home so as to be extremely cutting. It seemed as if accusing "the Church" of lying and forgery was a sin not to be forgiven. Few things were more discouraging for those who hoped that moral ground still remained for a reformation within the Church of Rome, than the perfect ease with which the benefits of the lying and the forgery were accepted, and the fury with which the crime of mentioning those incidents was denounced. "False decretals as much as you like," said Veuillot, "but the sense of the false decretals is the faith of the Church";[295] so, if God had not needed the lies the Church had assimilated them. Father Gratry, said the Civiltá, never tires of calling the school which teaches pontifical infallibility, a school of error. Does he know where that school has fixed its abode, and holds its chair? If he does not know, we shall tell him. "Its home is Rome, its chair is that of the Roman Pontiff, is that of St. Peter."[296] Father Hyacinth said, at a later time, "God never has need of lies, but lies often have need of God, and they are never so powerful as when they present themselves in His name."[297]
Still, the weight of wrath continued to fall upon the original offender. The Unitá Cattolica of January 25, in the letter of its Munich correspondent, called Döllinger a bag of wind and a whited sepulchre, and suggested that the Archbishop of Munich should prohibit theological students from attending his classes. The Unitá shows that Dr. Döllinger in his works "has always hidden a rebellious spirit under a learning which was often that of a charlatan."
In the General Congregation of the 21st, as the Cyprian Archbishop who said Mass used the Oriental rite, the Fathers would have been unable to follow, but the Master of the Ceremonies, lifting up his voice, gave a signal for each important movement.[298] In the Congregation of the Monday, Strossmayer spoke for an hour and a quarter (Tagebuch, p. 133). He insisted that reform was called for, and reform from the Pope downwards, and moreover that the whole of the canon law should be reformed. On the following Tuesday, this last proposition was supported by the Bishop of Saluzzo. On the same day, a speaker not named regretted that the word "concubinage" should have been used, as it gave occasion to the world to say that celibacy was a failure. Friedrich, while vehemently sharing this regret, admits that no means were suggested for doing away with concubinage or immorality. The Curia, however, could not be blamed for the scandal caused by the discussion on this matter of discipline. No one of the official organs ever breathed a word on the subject. Monsignor Guérin, whose history, says the preface to the second edition, reproduces the Council entire, might never have heard of this subject, and the same is the case with Sambin. The Acta Sanctæ Sedis, even in Latin, are equally reserved. The title of the Draft Decree on the general subject of the life of the clergy is mentioned in Frond. Henceforth we cease to be able to check the statements of the unauthorized writers by those of the Acta Sanctæ Sedis as to the names of those who spoke on given days. That amount of information was no more afforded. One day the record was that five spoke, another seven, and so forth. Who the speakers were, what they spoke upon, what they said about it, were matters swallowed up in the pontifical secret.
On the same day, the challenge to the College of Cardinals to reform itself was taken up by Cardinal Di Pietro, who admitted that such a demand might have been reasonable at Trent, at which time the Cardinals held many pluralities, but at the present day it was groundless. The only reform now called for was a financial one, as the revenue of the Cardinals was not adequate. He told the Fathers that if they only knew all, the Cardinals were not to be envied. This even Friedrich admits, saying that not once during the Council had the Pope summoned them to hear their opinions.
On January 27, Simor, Primate of Hungary, spoke on the life of the clergy, and recommended the "common life." Martin of Paderborn also advised that the cooks[299] should be superseded, and that "common life" should be resorted to. Martin had appealed to Cardinal Hohenlohe to support him in a proposal that Protestant clergymen who wanted to join the Church of Rome should have both marriage and the cup in the Lord's Supper conceded to them. Verot, Bishop of Savannah, spoke on the breviary. He urged revision, stating that he durst not, without subjecting himself to condemnation, say what was in the breviary from Augustine. Hereupon the bell of Cardinal De Angelis rang loudly, and Verot was told that the Fathers could not be spoken of in that manner. As we understand Verot, he had not found fault with the Fathers. The sons would not allow one another to say what the fathers had said. The American waited a moment, went on, and said the same thing of Gregory the Great. Now came a second call to order, and he was told that if he would not speak on another subject, he must leave the desk. So, after a few words more, he did leave it (Tagebuch, p. 138). The Prince Archbishop of Olmütz asked if the Primate of Hungary was ready to lead the "common life" with the canons of his chapter, adding that he should not object to lead it with his own chapter, but he feared that the canons of Olmütz would object. The following day, Melchers of Cologne supported the views of Verot as to the breviary. He censured the proposal to introduce lay brothers into the parsonages instead of the cooks. It would be better it the latter could be altogether got rid of; but as that was scarcely to be expected, it would be well to require that they should be fifty years of age, or at least forty. On January 31, Bishop Dinkel of Augsburg is said to have spoken against concubinage in the strict sense, but allowing it to the clergy in a wider sense.[300]
Perhaps, as, about the middle of January, men in the Englisher Garten, or Park, of Munich, lifted their hats to the Provost as he took his afternoon walks, they might fancy that the spare figure was weighted with rather more than a scholar's gravity. Neither the passing carriages, nor the race of Isar rolling rapidly; neither the fine effects of the westering sun behind the steeples of the city, nor the pleasant view from the brow beyond the river, could fix the old man's well-lighted eye. That eye was then watching the process which was putting the faith and labour of seventy years to a cruel test. The Church he had toiled to rehabilitate before the intellect of the Fatherland, striving, by letters, to connect her more firmly with the past, and to equip her more nobly for the future, had been cast into the cauldron. The very basis of dogma was to be changed. A new standard was to be set up. The adoption of that standard would change the relation of the Church to the Bible and to the Fathers, to General Councils and to the Episcopate, to the people and the king, to letters and all lights, to liberties, constitutions, and every human hope. Principles which had been charged upon them by Protestants, and which they had resented, saying that the accusers confounded opinion with dogma, were now lifting their heads in a General Council. He had striven in silence to avert the evil without raising a conflict of persons or names. But now the Infallibilists felt their conscience oppressed by having to recognize him, and those like-minded with him, as Catholics. They could not enjoy the fulness of their own belief as long as the Church tolerated his creed. And the Infallibilists were the Pope, the Curia, the Jesuits, and the majority of the bishops, at least of the nominal ones. If there was yet a hope, it rested in the strong help which God often gives to the effort of one self-risking man. The moment was come either to run all hazards and trust to that blessing, or to float down the stream like one of those winter leaves on the Isar.
It was on January 19, just when Gratry was issuing the first of his letters, and when Darboy threw his marshal's baton into the midst of the enemy, that in the quiet house in Von der Tann Street, the formidable name of Döllinger was signed to a protest against the Infallibilist Address. Through the Augsburg Gazette, this presently rang all over Germany, and a little later echoed in every corner of Europe. "One hundred and eighty millions of human beings are to be compelled by threats of exclusion from the Church, of privation of the sacraments, and of eternal damnation, to believe and profess what hitherto the Church has never believed or taught." So began an appeal destined to elicit proof that large numbers of educated Roman Catholics, under all their external quiet, were agitated; and that at the same time the masses, whatever little opinions they might have, were as to action completely under the dominion of the priests.[301]
It was now that Dupanloup wrote a letter to Deschamps, Archbishop of Malines. Two days after the opening session, Deschamps had published a reply to the famous pastoral of Dupanloup. It was at once inserted in the journals of Belgium, France, and Italy. Dupanloup, who had in France professed to expect in Rome profound tranquillity, found himself sharply attacked. He had warily reserved the merits of the question for argument in the secret ear of the Council, treating before the public only its accidents. But, cried Deschamps, you have pointed out the difficulties of a definition: how could you have the courage to do so?
When the brilliant Bishop of Orleans was ready for the press, he found that the press was in good keeping.
Father Spada [the censor] told me that an imprimatur was necessary, and at the same time said that such an imprimatur would be refused to me. Perhaps, Monsignor, you probably will think with me that, in these circumstances, all discussion between us is impossible; and you will feel it natural that I should preserve the silence befitting the position in which we are placed.[302]