[CHAPTER VIII]

Grief of M. Veuillot—Final Deputation and Protest.

Sunday, July 17, was rather more of a fast than of a feast for M. Veuillot. He says, "War and oppositions are cruel clouds." Bad as were the rumours of war, those of "rebellion" among the bishops were still worse. It had evidently become known that the minority were not to be cowed into gracing the public solemnity with their compulsory Placet. It was even rumoured that the bishops would go into the open session and disturb the solemnity by saying Non placet—ay, M. Veuillot had heard, by shouting it and outrageously repeating it in the face of the Pope.[464] While nothing was more desirable than that, to prove the freedom of the Council, two or three should say Non placet, any serious number doing so would be detestable. The refusal of the non-contents to vote at all would be only one degree less bad. M. Veuillot, however, discovered that many whose departure, "or rather desertion," had been reported were still really in Rome. But, on the other hand, he saw carriages at the doors of leaders of the "tormenting and tormented" Opposition; at those of the Archbishops of Paris and Lyons, and of Cardinals Rauscher and Matthieu. Even the Via Frattina was visited to note the symptoms at the door of Maret. After night-fall, Veuillot cries, "Many are gone, and many more are going in the morning. They will really absent themselves. I cannot help thinking of a caricature. It represented some seditious fellows in a scare, who said, 'Now is the moment to show ourselves; let us hide!'"

As the noontide of that July Sunday blazed upon the Vatican, a deputation had entered the presence chamber, headed by Darboy and Simor, Primate of Hungary. They came to make one last attempt to procure the prorogation of the Council without the promulgation of the dogma. Their only answer was the old Non possumus. Then the last of the luckless series of protests was solemnly delivered. They had not heart enough to fight, and had too much conscience to submit. So they took the middle course, and spoiled for ever the pretext of moral unanimity except the dead unanimity of form. Their fears, or their views of unity and reverence would not allow them in public to withstand the Pope. He had justly calculated the effect upon them of throne and tiara, with the fear of possible degradation. They had not, perhaps, sufficiently calculated what might have been the effect on him of honest men standing up one after another in their appointed place, and saying before all the Churches, as a wiser than they had done of a better than he, that he was to be blamed. They would have exposed, it is true, Pope Pius IX to a temporary check, yet they might have saved the Papacy from an irrevocable error. But in proportion as the Papacy had become weak in producing conviction, it had concentrated its strength on the means of producing submission. Its success in that art was now to be its own punishment. No Protestant had expected any effectual resistance from men trained as Romish bishops. Any real tenacity of conscience shown during the Council, was due to nobler influences spread abroad in countries where the ascendancy of Rome is not complete. There is, to our mode of thinking, something not merely incongruous and grotesque, but a great deal worse, in putting forward the paltry plea of personal offence, or personal consideration, when the matter in hand is a dogma that is to mould the religion of millions for ever. The fact that these prelates do put forward such a notion countenances the statements often made about men giving as the reason for their votes that they could not refuse the Holy Father or hurt his feelings. Vitelleschi thinks that the fear of being required to resign their Sees or subscribe the dogma was one of the elements in determining the minority to leave Rome before the definition (p. 212). If so, seeing them escape from that dilemma would be one of the causes of the mortification shown by the majority, as expressed by Veuillot. We give the last of the protests in full[465]:—

Most Blessed Father, in the Congregation held on the 13th of this month we gave our votes upon the proposed Decree of the first dogmatic constitution of the Church of Christ.

It is known to your Holiness that there were eighty-eight Fathers, who, pressed by conscience and moved by love of the Holy Church, gave their votes in the words Non placet, that sixty-two others voted in the words Placet juxta modum, and that, moreover, about seventy were absent from the Council and abstained from voting. To these are to be added a number who, from infirmity or other serious reasons, have returned to their dioceses.

In this manner, our votes have been made known to your Holiness and to the whole world, and it has been made evident by how many bishops our opinion is approved; and thus have we discharged our office and duty.

From the time above stated, nothing has occurred to change our judgment; but, on the contrary, several things have been added, and those exceedingly serious, which have strengthened us in our purpose.

Confirming, then, by this document our votes, we have determined to abstain from the public session to be held on the 18th. That filial piety and reverence, which lately brought our deputies to the feet of your Holiness do not permit us openly, and in the Father's face, to say Non placet in a case so closely concerning the person of your Holiness.

And, indeed, the votes that would be given in the public session could only repeat those already given in the Congregation.

We, therefore, return to our flocks without delay, for after so long an absence we are much needed on account of the rumours of war, and especially on account of the great spiritual necessities. We return grieving that, because of the sad juncture of circumstances, even peace and tranquillity of conscience is disturbed among the faithful.

Meanwhile, commending with all our hearts the Church of God, and your Holiness, to the grace and protection of our Lord Jesus Christ, we are of your Holiness the most devoted and most obedient sons.

Leaving, then, in the hands of the Pope this solemn confirmation of a belief registered by a formidable array of bishops, that he ought not to be proclaimed as the infallible representative of God, they turned their backs on the palace which had witnessed their many humiliations. Their allusion to the things which had been added since the 13th as being "exceedingly serious," is another of the many witnesses out of their own mouths against their subsequent statements. Their clear statement that did they vote in the session it could only be to repeat their former vote, seals with the seal of deliberate misrepresentation many solemn assertions since that day made under mitres.

It was a grief to the soul of M. Veuillot to learn that the Ambassador of France had graced with his presence the departure of Darboy. De Banneville had accompanied the Archbishop to the station, escorted by Mérode, with Monsignor Vecchiotti, and Father Trullet. The recalcitrant Archbishop was even placed in "a kind of carriage of honour"; a fact which reminded the Argus of the Univers that a certain bishop had said, We go away conquerors, but we leave some wounded on the field. "This fine carriage seemed to me an ambulance."[466] Thus, poor Darboy took his way towards the storm-cloud, blackening behind the hills, in the after clap of which he alone of all the host was to find a bloody grave.

The Monday morning dawned heavily over Rome. As the eyes of the last portion of the fleeing minority were sadly tracing the outlines of the hills on the upper course of the Tiber, while those of the first portion were tracing the forms of the outlying Alps and a few were watching morn as it spread over the waves of the Mediterranean, a Pope for the first time rose in Rome with the consciousness that ere sunset he would be infallible, not only in fact, but also in law. His less happy prececessors had claimed that crown, but never had received it. Now he was about, with the consent of the Church, to put on the power to be infallible for ever, "without the consent of the Church." Had ever diplomacy won such a victory? had ever an oligarchy so completely signed itself away? Tell him that the temporal power was of no spiritual value! But could all that have been accomplished except within the walls of a strong city? As Pius IX looked from the Papal apartments across the Tiber, the Pincian was gloomy, and the Sabine Hills were hid in clouds under a threatening sun. But he would remember the day of his taking possession, and how gloom had turned to rainbow; the day of the return from Gaeta, and how the sun had opened from the west at the right moment; above all, the day of "The Immaculate," and how the sun had seemed glad of the sight. True, the dutiful luminary had failed on the opening day of the Council, but the Jesuit Fathers had written that the solemnity would be brilliant at its close, and that the city would blaze with triumph, as Ephesus had done in the year 431. And was not the throne so placed in the Council Hall, that, all being propitious, the beams would fall as they had done on the day of the Immaculate; and surely the Virgin would not fail to send them. At all events, it was certain that he would lie down that night not only the Pope of the Immaculate, but the Pope of the Infallible—the first human being in the records of the world to whom a number of the creatures of God had deliberately given the right of telling to them and to their succeeding generations what they were to believe for ever and ever. The deifying of an emperor, either in the plains of Babylon or in the temples of Rome, was a little thing as compared with the apotheosis now about to be performed. The dogmas of the emperor were not to be eternal on earth, though he might cause himself to be decreed immortal in heaven. The word "apotheosis" was perfectly natural to the pen of Vitelleschi, or of any other Liberal Catholic who dared to speak what he thought. But it is nevertheless true that deification among the heathen, whether ancient or modern, involved little exaltation compared with that now to be given to the Bishop of Rome. A Theseus or a Rama, an Antinous or an Augustus, had a lowly part in ruling eternal destinies compared with that to be now assigned to the Count and Priest Mastai-Ferretti.