In the meantime, learned bodies in Germany had hastened to support Döllinger. Public addresses came to him from the universities of Bonn, Prague, and Breslau, and from colleges in other places, bearing the best names of German Catholics in letters and science. The towns, emulating the colleges, joined in the movement; Cologne, Kempten, Freiburg-in-Brisgau, and other places sending in addresses. Munich voted to the venerable scholar an honorary citizenship, which he modestly declined. It was evident that the German people would have followed in large numbers in the movement thus begun, but the bishops who, in Rome seemed to be earnest in opposing the Curia, suppressed all attempts to discourage it on the part of their clergy or people. They had woven a tangled web at Fulda, and were getting deeper and deeper into its meshes. On the other side, the Pope, the Curia, and the Infallibilist bishops did everything possible to bring pressure to bear upon the bishops of the Opposition, both from the clergy and from the people. As with Hildebrand, so now, all authority which did not move at the beck of "Peter," was overturned or overmatched by raising subordinates at the call of the higher power. Döllinger had said, in reply to an address, that he had done no more than maintain views in which, as to the substance, he was at one with the majority of the German prelates. This was in Rome skilfully turned into a reason for demands upon those prelates. Signor Aloysi, evidently by commission of the Pope, proposed to the Archbishop of Munich to disavow Döllinger, and to procure a collective disavowal from the German bishops. This the Archbishop declined to do.
It is hardly fair to conclude that the German bishops made a show of opposition merely to be able to say to the people, We resisted till the word was spoken, as you did; but now that it is spoken, we submit, and so must you. In addition to calculations of this kind there was probably a consciousness that a mortal struggle was rising between Rome and all the religion, freedom and light in the outside world, and that it would go hard with Rome. The only possible counterpoise to their fear of the Pope would have been a movement on the part of governments to separate the Church from the State. But the politicians were as little prepared for that as the bishops were for schism. So, both the one and the other, however involuntarily, concurred in helping Rome on towards the catastrophe. Ketteler proposed that the German bishops should disavow Döllinger, but could not carry his point.[331] He disavowed him on his own account. Senestrey forbade theological students of his diocese to attend the classes of Döllinger; but Scherr, Archbishop of Munich, refused to do even this. The press, however, made amends for the slackness of the Ordinary. M. Veuillot told how Döllinger's father had said that the devil of a boy had two heads and no heart, and how, in his Cathedral stall, he did not know how to handle his breviary, and sometimes read, instead of it, proofs of his books. Quirinus might, indeed, say, "It is no longer possible to conceal by any periphrasis the fact that the spirit the Opposition has to combat is no other than the spirit of lying" (p. 260). But the writers of the Curia charged upon all Opposition writers, not only hatred, malice and all uncharitableness, but especially lying, with the loving and making of lies.
The Pope, whose jokes and outbursts alternately supplied gossip, is reported by Friedrich as saying that Döllinger was a heretic, or very near it, and that Günther was much more respectable, as he had been quiet for a long time (dead). Some one observing to him that Döllinger was a harmless old man, he replied, Pretty kind of old man that receives addresses from every quarter. He made no secret that he took the Opposition bishops generally for "softheads," but thought they must have some one behind them. He knew who nodded approval while Strossmayer spoke, and who pressed his hand when he came down. He said that Cardinal Schwarzenberg played the part of the sub-deacon in the manger; that is, the part of the ass in the scene of the Nativity. Schwarzenberg, he said, had been the only person who declared that the definition of the Immaculate Conception would draw bad consequences after it. But "the definition took place on a morning when the sun shone so wonderfully that I recognized in it the confirmation of my design." Much more chat of the same quality is given.
Friedrich has one short paragraph to the effect that it was confidently asserted that Veuillot had a seat behind the scenes in the Council Hall. A man deeply initiated in the secrets of the Council did not deny it (p. 165). If this was the case, it would be curious to compare it with M. Veuillot's account of his being on the Pincio, instead of in the Cathedral, on the opening day. That meditation in the rain seemed rather eccentric.
The Pope had arranged for an exhibition of Catholic art, and opened it in person with a speech. The passage which made the greatest impression was that in which he alluded to a recent saying of M. de Falloux, a zealous French Catholic politician, and the actual author of the Education Bill which embodied Montalembert's policy, to the effect that the Church had never had her '89, and she needed one. The Pope declared, "I say that is blasphemy." There were many versions of the utterance, but M. Veuillot, evidently by authority, stuck to this one. M. de Falloux, after a considerable time, wrote to Bishop Freppel, saying that he had not used the phrase alleged. Bishop Freppel told the Pope that M. de Falloux wrote that he had not used it. The Pope replied that if M. de Falloux had not used it, he had not condemned M. de Falloux. There the tale is left by Veuillot (i. p. 360).[332]
A case like this indicates the struggles between old opinion and the new light of unforeseen circumstances, through which many must, at this time, have been passing. In the case of Hyacinth and Gratry, the struggle had come to the surface; in that of Döllinger, it put on the solemnity of age; in that of Montalembert, the awe of death. From the oratory at Birmingham to the chambers of the Quirinal, from under the roof of the Vatican to lone stations in some mission wild, were men moaning with a conscience-ache. The coming on of an eclipse could hardly be more awful to a meditative Magus than the advancing shadow of heresy on the Church herself to one who had believed her infallible. The dread images of doubt and uncertainty not only haunted, but threatened many a brave spirit. If the infallibility of the Church was to be reduced to the level of that of the Popes, in the doctrines and morals they had solemnly taught; to the level, for instance, of Pius IX and his Syllabus—alas, alas for the great ideas of the past! And was it so clear that it had been innocent to lay those under anathema who, looking away from man to Christ, from Councils to the Bible, had meekly said, The only infallible guide over life's broad sea is not the church steeples, but the stars.
The veil is partly lifted off from one such struggle. Friedrich's stay in Rome had been harassing. Suspected of being the correspondent of the Augsburg Gazette, he had been denounced in the papers, treated rudely by bishops, jeered at by the Pope, reported as being banished, and dogged by police spies even in the house of Cardinal Hohenlohe. All this would intensify his perception of the moral corruption of the city, of which many a priest before him had spoken, from Luther to Liverani, or Lammenais. It would also give a keener edge to the theological debates which were going on in his own mind. After an interval of five days in his diary, he writes, under date of February 25 (p. 195)—
At last I must once more take up the pen. If the last few days have been important for the history of the Council, still more important have they been for my own life-history. A mental struggle within me has reached its close, one which was hard to undergo, and which shook my entire mental and physical being. Now all stands clear before my eyes. I know the end toward which I am to steer. The Lord has once more led me a stage further in my life-path. It was truly a melancholy thought for me when, finding for a moment a point of rest in the midst of this struggle, I looked back upon my peculiar course. From that decision to become a Jesuit, onwards to this journey to Rome, an unseen hand has so perceptibly led me, almost always without design of mine, that even here, in the midst of the new storms, I have been able to take fresh courage. I stand here in Rome only through the unseen guidance of the Lord; for it was not I that ever took a step to come here; indeed, all was done without me. But I see clearly that even that dispensation was to purify my views and intentions, and to lead me on towards the sole prescribed end of my life.
At one time, how much was Rome for me! How did I, in a sense, worship all that came from it! Now I see that here reign not only the most horrid ignorance, but, still more, pride, lies, and sin. Henceforth my life has its task marked out for two ends. Henceforth it is devoted to the struggle against the Curia (not primacy), and to that against the Jesuits. If I fall in it, I shall believe that the Lord has so willed, and that there can be, and that there is, a martyrdom for Christ, and for His Church, among the faithful. If I have had to learn here that the Curialists and the Jesuits are enemies not less furious than the heathen, I shall openly show the world that they do not scruple to devise the death of their enemies. The Univers may erroneously write, "The scandal in Rome is great," because I am here and am betraying the secrets of Rome; but one may say with full right, "The scandal in Christendom is great."
The bishops of the minority still declared their determination to resist every attempt to concentrate infallibility in the Pope; but Darboy said to a diplomatist, What use is it to send in protests that never receive an answer?[333] The last protest, however, contained the grave matter in which a hundred bishops pledged themselves to language casting doubt upon the œcumenicity of the Council. Of no use for its immediate purpose, that document will always be of real use in judging of the value of much that has been said by its signers since the Council. Prominent Infallibilists intimated that the dogma would not be so defined as to declare the opposite opinion a heresy. Yes, says Friedrich, they would leave it as Trent left the Immaculate Conception—in such a position that some day, when the sun shines fair upon a Pope, it may be promulged as a dogma. Then he adds, what many may have heard stated in Rome, It is strongly asserted that the very reason why the Council Hall has been placed where it stands, is that there at a certain hour the sunbeams fall upon the Papal throne (p. 219).