We have already alluded in the first part of this article to Father Faber's elegance of appearance and manner, and from a portrait prefixed to the biography it seems that he retained his advantages of person to a late period of his life. He was remarkable for his habits of order and neatness, and once, when a father remarked upon the tidiness of his room, he replied, "The napkin in the sepulchre was foundfoldedat the resurrection." As might be imagined from the narrative of his life, he was always distinguished for gentleness; and Father Bowden remarks that he never was severe in the manner of correcting the faults of his spiritual subjects, except possibly in matters connected with the ceremonial of divine worship. Any defect of demeanor during service, or inattention to the requirements of the rubric, he rebuked with marked severity. In the church he would have every thing of the best, whether it could be seen by the congregation or not. When the new high altar of marble was put up in the Oratory, he was much dissatisfied because the back was not finished like the front, and he found fault with the altar rails for the same reason, complaining that "the side next our Lord" was not ornamented. He was very fond of children, and his correspondence contains some striking evidences of his tenderness to them. We have already spoken of his love of humor—a sense which seems naturally to accompany the poetic instinct. His room was at all hours the frequent resort of his brethren who looked upon it as a renewal of St. Philip's "School of Christian Mirth." Father Bowden quotes the language of an old friend, who wrote at the time of Father Faber's death of "the indescribable charm of his private intercourse, of that wonderful brilliancy of conversation in which he excelled all those whose social powers have made them the idols of London society as far as they have excelled ordinary men, of the magic play of his countenance and of his voice, of the unprecedented combination of tenderness in affection, unearthliness of aim, and worldly wisdom, which characterized his private intercourse, and of his power of attracting little children and learned men, one as much as the other."
Father Bowden has told the story of this beautiful life with appreciation and affection, and with no mean literary ability. His style is direct andunaffected, and he is not given to the superfluity of pious reflection with which the biographers of religious men are so apt to retard their narratives. The volume contains a very copious selection from Father Faber's private correspondence, so that it may be considered in many portions virtually an autobiography.
TRANSLATED FROM THE GERMAN OF CONRAD VON BOLANDEN.
When Frank returned from the walk, he found a visitor at Frankenhöhe.
The visitor was an elegantly-dressed young man with a free, self-important air about him.
He spoke fluently, and his words sounded as decisive as though they came from the lips of infallibility. At times this self-importance was of such a boastful and arrogant character as to affect the observer disagreeably.
"It is now vacation, and I do not know how to enjoy it better than by a visit to you," said he.
"Very flattering to me," answered Frank. "I hope you will be pleased with Frankenhöhe."
"Pleased?" returned the visitor as he looked through the open window at the beautiful landscape. "I would like to dream away here the whole of May and June. How charming it is! An empire of flowers and vernal delights."
"I am surprised, Carl, that you have preserved such a love for nature. I thought you considered the professor's chair the culminating point of attraction."
Carl bowed his head proudly and stood with folded arms before the smiling Frank.
"That is evidently intended for flattery," said he. "The professor's chair is my vocation. He who does not hold his vocation as the acme of all attraction is indeed a perfect man. Besides, it will appear to you, who consider every thing in the world—not excepting even the fair sex—with blank stoicism; it will appear even to you that the rostrum is destined to accomplish great things. Ripe knowledge in mighty pulsations goes forth from the rostrum and permeates society. The rostrum governs and educates the rising young men who are destined to assume leading positions in the state. The rostrum overthrows antiquated forms of religious delusion, ennobles rational thought, exact science, and deep investigation. The rostrum governs even the throne; for we have princes in Germany who esteem liberty of thought and progress of knowledge more than the art of governing their people in a spirit of stupidity."
Frank smiled.
"The glory of the rostrum I leave undisputed," said he. "But I begof you to conceal from the doctor your scientific rule of faith. You may get into trouble with the doctor."
"I am very desirous of becoming acquainted with this paragon of learning—you have told me so much about him; and I confess it was partly to see him that I made this visit. Get into trouble? I do not fear the old syllogism-chopper in the least. A good disputation with him is even desirable."
"Well, you are forewarned. If you go home with a lacerated back, it will not be my fault."
"A lacerated back?" said the professor quietly. "Does the doctor like to usestrikingarguments?"
"Oh! no. But his sarcasm is as cutting as the slash of a sword, and his logical vehemence is like the stroke of a club."
"We will fight him with the same weapons," answered Carl, throwing back his head. "Shall I pay him my respects immediately?"
"The doctor admits no one. In his studio he is as inaccessible as a Turkish sultan in his harem. I will introduce you in the dining-room, as it is now just dinner-time."
They betook themselves to the dining-room, and soon after they heard the sound of a bell.
"He is just now called to table," said Richard. "He does not allow the servant to enter his room, and for that reason a bell has been hung there."
"How particular he is!" said the professor.
A door of the ante-room was opened, quick steps were heard, and Klingenberg hastily entered and placed himself at the table, as at a work that must be done quickly, and then observed the stranger.
"Doctor Lutz, professor of history in our university," said Frank, introducing him.
"Doctor Lutz—professor of history," said Klingenberg musingly. "Your name is familiar to me, if I am not mistaken; are you not a collaborator on Sybel's historical publication?"
"I have that honor," answered the professor with much dignity.
They began to eat.
"You read Sybel's periodical?" asked the professor.
"We must not remain entirely ignorant of literary productions, particularly the more excellent."
Lutz felt much flattered by this declaration.
"Sybel's periodical is an unavoidable necessity at present," said the professor. "Historical research was in a bad way; it threatened to succumb entirely to the ultramontane cause and the clerical party."
"Now Sybel and his co-laborers will avert that danger," said the doctor. "These men will do honor to historical research. The ultramontanists have a great respect for Sybel. When he taught in Munich, they did not rest till he turned his back on Isar-Athen. In my opinion, Sybel should not have gone to Munich. The stupid Bavarians will not allow themselves to be enlightened. So let them sit in darkness, the stupid barbarians who have no appreciation for the progress of science."
The professor looked astonished. He could not understand how an admirer of Sybel's could be so prejudiced. Frank was alarmed lest the professor might perceive the doctor's keen sarcasm—which he delivered with a serious countenance—and feel offended. He changed the conversation to another subject, in which Klingenberg did not take part.
"You have represented the doctorincorrectly," said the professor, after the meal. "He understands Sybel and praises his efforts—the best sign of a clear mind."
"Klingenberg is always just," returned Frank.
On the following afternoon, Lutz joined in the accustomed walk. As they were passing through the chestnut grove, a servant of Siegwart's came up breathless, with a letter in his hand, which he gave to Frank.
"Gentlemen," said Frank after reading the letter, "I am urgently requested to visit Herr Siegwart immediately. With your permission I will go."
"Of course, go," said Klingenberg. "I know," he added with a roguish expression, "that you would as lief visit that excellent man as walk with us."
Richard went off in such haste that the question occurred to him why he fulfilled with such zeal the wishes of a man with whom he had been so short a time acquainted; but with the question Angela came before his mind as an answer. He rejected this answer, even against his feelings, and declared to himself that Siegwart's honorable character and neighborly feeling made his haste natural and even obligatory. The proprietor may have been waiting his arrival, for he came out to meet him. Frank observed a dark cloud over the countenance of the man and great anxiety in his features.
"I beg your forgiveness a thousand times, Herr Frank. I know you go walking with Herr Klingenberg at this hour, and I have deprived you of that pleasure."
"No excuse, neighbor. It is a question which would give me greater pleasure, to serve you or to walk with Klingenberg."
Richard smiled while saying these words; but the smile died away, for he saw how pale and suddenly anxious Siegwart had become. They had entered a room, and he desired to know the cause of Siegwart's changed manner.
"A great and afflicting misfortune threatens us," began the proprietor. "My Eliza has been suddenly taken ill, and I have great fears for her young life. Oh! if you knew how that child has grown into my heart." He paused for a moment and suppressed his grief, but he could not hide from Frank the tears that filled his eyes. Richard saw these tears, and this paternal grief increased his respect for Siegwart.
"The delicate life of a young child does not allow of protracted medical treatment, of consultation or investigation into the disease or the best remedies. The disease must be known immediately and efficient remedies applied. There are physicians at my command, but I do not dare to trust Eliza to them."
"I presume, Herr Siegwart, that you wish for Klingenberg."
"Yes—and through your mediation. You know that he only treats the sick poor; but resolutely refuses his services to the wealthy."
"Do not be uneasy about that. I hope to be able to induce Klingenberg to correspond with your wishes. But is Eliza really so sick, or does your apprehension increase your anxiety?"
"I will show you the child, and then you can judge for yourself." They went up-stairs and quietly entered the sick-room. Angela sat on the little bed of the child, reading. The child was asleep, but the noise of their entrance awoke her. She reached out her little round arms to her father, and said in a scarcely audible whisper,
"Papa—papa!"
This whispered "papa" seemed topierce the soul of Siegwart like a knife. He drew near and leant over the child.
"You will be well to-morrow, my sweet pet. Do you see, Herr Frank has come to see you?"
"Mamma!" whispered the child.
"Your mother will come to-morrow, my Eliza. She will bring you something pretty. My wife has been for the last two weeks at her sister's, who lives a few miles from here," said Siegwart, turning to Frank. "I sent a messenger for her early this morning."
While the father sat on the bed and held Eliza's hand in his, Frank observed Angela, who scarcely turned her eyes from the sick child. Her whole soul seemed taken up with her suffering sister. Only once had she looked inquiringly at Frank, to read in his face his opinion of the condition of Eliza. She stood immovable at the foot of the bed, as mild, as pure, and as beautiful as the guardian angel of the child.
Both men left the room.
"I will immediately seek the doctor, who is now on his walk," said Frank.
"Shall I send my servant for him?"
"That is unnecessary," returned Frank. "And even if your servant should find the doctor, he would probably not be inclined to shorten his walk. Our gardener, who works in the chestnut grove, will show me the way the doctor took. In an hour and a half at furthest I will be back."
The young man pressed the outstretched hand of Siegwart, and hastened away.
In the mean time the doctor and the professor had reached a narrow, wooded ravine, on both sides of which the rocks rose almost perpendicularly. The path on which they walked passed near a little brook, that flowed rippling over the pebbles in its bed. The branches of the young beeches formed a green roof over the path, and only here and there were a few openings through which the sun shot its sloping beams across the cool, dusky way, and in the sunbeams floated and danced dust-colored insects and buzzing flies.
The learned saunterers continued their amusement without altercation until the professor's presumption offended the doctor and led to a vehement dispute.
Klingenberg did not appear on the stage of publicity. He left boasting and self-praise to others, far inferior to him in knowledge. He despised that tendency which pursues knowledge only to command, which cries down any inquiry that clashes with their theories. The doctor published no learned work, nor did he write for the periodicals, to defend his views. But if he happened to meet a scientific opponent, he fought him with sharp, cutting weapons.
"I do not doubt of the final victory of true science over the falsifying party spirit of the ultramontanes," said the professor. "Sybel's periodical destroys, year by year, more and more the crumbling edifice which the clerical zealots build on the untenable foundation of falsified facts."
Klingenberg tore his cap from his head and swung it about vehemently, and made such long strides that the other with difficulty kept up with him. Suddenly he stopped, turned about, and looked the professor sharply in the eyes.
"You praise Sybel's publication unjustly," said he excitedly. "It is true Sybel has founded a historical school, and has won many imitators; but his is a school destructive of morality and of history—a school of scientific radicalism, a school offalsehood and deceitfulness. Sybel and his followers undertake to mould and distort history to their purposes. They slur over every thing that contradicts their theories. To them the ultramontanes are partial, prejudiced men—or perhaps asses and dunces; you are unfortunately right when you say Sybel's school wins ground; for Sybel and his fellows have brought lying and falsification to perfection. They have in Germany perplexed minds, and have brought their historical falsifications to market as true ware."
The professor could scarcely believe his own ears.
"I have given you freely and openly my judgment, which need not offend you, as it refers to principles, not persons."
"Not in the least," answered Lutz derisively. "I admit with pleasure that Sybel's school is anti-church, and even anti-Christian, if you will. There is no honor in denying this. The denial would be of no use; for this spirit speaks too loudly and clearly in that school. Sybel and his associates keep up with the enlightenment and liberalism of our times. But I must contradict you when you say this free tendency is injurious to society; the seed of free inquiry and human enlightenment can bring forth only good fruits."
"Oh! we know this fruit of the new heathenism," cried the doctor. "There is no deed so dark, no crime so great, that it may not be defended according to the anti-Christian principles of vicious enlightenment and corrupt civilization. Sybel's school proves this with striking clearness. Tyrants are praised and honored. Noble men are defamed and covered with dirt."
"This you assert, doctor; it is impossible to prove such a declaration."
"Impossible! Not at all. Sybel's periodical exalts to the seventh heaven the tyrant Henry VIII. of England. You extol him as a conscientious man who was compelled by scruples of conscience to separate from his wife. You commend him for having but one mistress. You say that the sensualities of princes are only of 'anecdotal interest.' Naturally," added the doctor contemptuously, "a school that cuts loose from Christian principles cannot consistently condemn adultery. Fie! fie! Debauchees and men of gross sensuality might sit in Sybel's enlightened school. Progress overthrows the cross, and erects the crescent. We may yet live to see every wealthy man of the new enlightenment have his harem. Whether society can withstand the detestable consequences of this teaching of licentiousness and contempt for Christian morality, is a consideration on which these progressive gentlemen do not reflect."
"I admit, doctor," said Lutz, "that the clear light of free, impartial science must needs hurt the eyes of a pious believer. According to the opinions of the ultramontanes, Henry VIII. was a terrible tyrant and blood-hound. Sybel's periodical deserves the credit of having done justice to that great king."
"Do you say so?" cried the doctor, with flaming eyes. "You, a professor of history in the university! You, who are appointed to teach our young men the truth! Shame on you! What you say is nothing but stark hypocrisy. I appeal to the heathen. You may consider religion from the stand-point of an ape, for what I care; your cynicism, which is not ashamed to equalize itself with the brute, may also pass. But this hypocrisy, this fallacious representation of historical facts and persons, this hypocrisy beforemy eyes—this I cannot stand; this must be corrected."
The doctor actually doubled up his fists. Lutz saw it and saw also the wild fire in the eyes of his opponent, and was filled with apprehension and anxiety.
Erect and silent, fiery indignation in his flushed countenance, stood Klingenberg before the frightened professor. As Lutz still held his tongue, the doctor continued,
"You call Henry VIII. a 'great king,' you extol and defend this 'great king' in Sybel's periodical. I say Henry VIII. was a great scoundrel, a blackguard without a conscience, and a bloodthirsty tyrant. I prove my assertion. Henry VIII. caused to be executed two queens who were his wives—two cardinals, twelve dukes and marquises, eighteen barons and knights, seventy-seven abbots and priors, and over sixty thousand Catholics. Why did he have them executed? Because they were criminals? No; because they remained true to their consciences and to the religion of their fathers. All these fell victims to the cruelty of Henry VIII., whom you style a 'great king.' You glorify a man who for blood-thirstiness and cruelty can be placed by the side of Nero and Diocletian. That is my retort to your hypocrisy and historical mendacity."
The stern doctor having emptied his vials of wrath, now walked on quietly; Lutz with drooping head followed in silence.
"Sybel does not even stop with Henry VIII.," again began the doctor. "These enlightened gentlemen undertake to glorify even Tiberius, that inhuman monster. They might as well have the impudence to glorify cruelty itself. On the other hand, truly great men, such as Tilly, are abandoned to the hatred of the ignorant."
"This is unjust," said the professor hastily. "Sybel's periodical in the second volume says that Tilly was often calumniated by party spirit; that the destruction of Magdeburg belongs to the class of unproved and improbable events. The periodical proves that Tilly's conduct in North Germany was mild and humane, that he signalized himself by his simplicity, unselfishness, and conscientiousness."
"Does Sybel's periodical say all this?"
"Word for word, and much more in praise of that magnanimous man," said Lutz. "From this you may know that science is just even to pious heroes."
Klingenberg smiled characteristically, and in his smile was an expression of ineffable contempt.
He stopped before the professor.
"You have just quoted what impartial historical research informs us of Tilly, in the second and third volumes. It is so. I remember perfectly having read that favorable account. Now let me quote what the same periodical says of the same Tilly in the seventeenth volume. There we read that Tilly was a hypocrite and a blood-hound, whose name cannot be mentioned without a shudder; furthermore, we are told that Tilly burned Magdeburg, that he waged a ravaging war against men, women, children, and property. You see, then, in the second and third volumes that Tilly was a conscientious, mild man and pious hero; in the seventeenth volume, that he was a tyrant and blood-hound. It appears from this with striking clearness that the enlightened progressionists do not stick at contradiction, mendacity, and defamation."
The professor lowered his eyes and stood embarrassed.
"I leave you, 'Herr Professor,' to give a name to such a procedure. Besides, I must also observe that the strictly scientific method, as it labels itself at present, does not stop at personal defamation. As every holy delusion and religious superstition must be destroyed in the hearts of the students, this lying and defamation extends to the historical truths of faith. It is taught from the professors' chairs, and confirmed by the scientific journals, that confession is an invention of the middle ages; while you must know from thorough research that confession has existed up to the time of the apostles. You teach and write that Innocent III. introduced the doctrine of transubstantiation in the thirteenth century; while every one having the least knowledge of history knows that at the council of 1215 it was only made a duty to receive the holy communion at Easter, that the fathers of the first ages speak of transubstantiation—that it has its foundation in Scripture. You know as well as I do that indulgences were imparted even in the first century: but this does not prevent you from teaching that the popes of the middle ages invented indulgences from love of money, and sold them from avarice. Thus the progressive science lies and defames, yet is not ashamed to raise high the banner of enlightenment; thus you lead people into error, and destroy youth. Fie! fie!"
The doctor turned and was about to proceed when he heard his name called. Frank hastened to him, the perspiration running from his forehead, and his breast heaving from rapid breathing. In a few words he made known Eliza's illness, and Siegwart's request.
"You know," said Klingenberg, "that I treat only the poor, who cannot easily get a physician."
"Make an exception in this case, doctor, I beg of you most earnestly! You respect Siegwart yourself for his integrity, and I also of late have learned to esteem the excellent man, whose heart at present is rent with anxiety and distress. Save this child, doctor; I beg of you save it."
Klingenberg saw the young man's anxiety and goodness, and benevolence beamed on his still angry face.
"I see," said he, "that no refusal is to be thought of. Well, we will go." And he immediately set off with long strides on his way back. Richard cast a glance at the professor, who followed, gloomy and spiteful. He saw the angry look he now and then turned on the hastening doctor, and knew that a sharp contest must have taken place. But his solicitude for Siegwart's child excluded all other sympathy. On the way he exchanged only a few words with Lutz, who moved on morosely, and was glad when Klingenberg and Richard separated from him in the vicinity of Frankenhöhe.
Ten minutes later they entered the house of Siegwart. The doctor stood for a moment observing the child without touching it. The little one opened her eyes, and appeared to be frightened at the strange man with the sharp features. Siegwart and Angela read anxiously in the doctor's immovable countenance. As Eliza said "Papa," in a peculiar, feverish tone, Klingenberg moved away from the bed. He cast a quick glance at the father, went to the window and drummed with his fingers on the glass. Frank read in that quick glance that Eliza must die. Angela must also have guessed the doctor's opinion, for she was very much affected; her head sank on her breast and tears burst from her eyes.
Klingenberg took out his note-book, wrote something on a small slip of paper, and ordered the recipe to be taken immediately to the apothecary. He then took his departure.
"What do you think of the child?" said Siegwart, as they passed over the yard.
"The child is very sick; send for me in the morning if it be necessary."
Frank and the doctor went some distance in silence. The young man thought of the misery the death of Eliza would bring on that happy family, and the pale, suffering Angela in particular stood before him.
"Is recovery not possible?"
"No. The child will surely die to-night. I prescribed only a soothing remedy. I am sorry for Siegwart; he is one of the few fathers who hang with boundless love on their children—particularly when they are young. The man must call forth all his strength to bear up against it."
When Frank entered his room, he found Lutz in a very bad humor.
"You have judged that old bear much too leniently," began the professor. "The man is a model of coarseness and intolerable bigotry."
"I thought so," said Frank. "I know you and I know the doctor; and I knew two such rugged antitheses must affect each other unpleasantly. What occasioned your dispute?"
"What! A thousand things," answered his friend ill-humoredly. "The old rhinoceros has not the least appreciation of true knowledge. He carries haughtily the long wig of antiquated stupidity, and does not see the shallowness of the swamp in which he wallows. The genius of Christianity is to him the sublime. Where this stops, pernicious enlightenment—which corrupts the people, turns churches into ball-rooms, and the Bible into a book of fables—begins."
"The doctor is not wrong there," said Frank earnestly. "Are they not endeavoring with all their strength to deprive the Bible of its divine character? Does not one Schenkel in Heidelberg deny the divinity of Christ? Is not this Schenkel the director of a theological faculty? Do not some Catholic professors even begin to dogmatize and dispute the authority of the holy see?"
"We rejoice at the consoling fact that Catholicsavantsthemselves break the fetters with which Rome's infallibility has bound in adamantine chains the human mind!" cried Lutz with enthusiasm.
"It appears strange to me when young men—scarcely escaped from the school, and boasting of all modern knowledge—cast aside as old, worthless rubbish what great minds of past ages have deeply pondered. The see of Rome and its dogmas have ruled the world for eighteen hundred years. Rome's dogmas overthrew the old world and created a new one. They have withstood and survived storms that have engulfed all else besides. Such strength excites wonder and admiration, but not contempt."
"I let your eulogy on Rome pass," said the professor. "But as Rome and her dogmas have overthrown heathenism, so will the irresistible progress of science overthrow Christianity. Coming generations will smile as complacently at the God of Christendom as we consider with astonishment the great and small gods of the heathen."
"I do not desire the realization of your prophecy," said Frank gloomily; "for it must be accompanied by convulsions that will transform the whole world, and thereforeI do not like to see an anti-Christian tendency pervading science."
"Tendency, tendency!" said Lutz, hesitating. "In science there is no tendency; there is but truth."
"Easy, friend, easy! Be candid and just. You will not deny that the tendency of Sybel's school is to war against the church?"
"Certainly, in so far as the church contends against truth and thorough investigation."
"Good; and the friends of the church will contend against you in so far as you are inimical to the spirit of the church. And so, tendency on one side, tendency on the other. But it is you who make the more noise. As soon as a book opposed to you appears,—'Partial!' you say with contemptuous mien; 'Odious!' 'Ecclesiastical!' 'Unreadable!' and it is forthwith condemned. But it appears to me natural that a man should labor and write in a cause which is to him the noblest cause."
"I am astonished, Richard! You did not think formerly as you now do. But I should not be surprised if your intercourse with the doctor is not without its effects." This the professor said in a cutting tone. Frank turned about and walked the room. The observation of his friend annoyed him, and he reflected whether his views had actually undergone any change.
"You deceive yourself. I am still the same," said he. "You cannot mistrust me because I do not take part with you against the doctor."
Carl sat for a time thinking.
"Is my presence at the table necessary?" said he. "I do not wish to meet the doctor again."
"That would be little in you. You must not avoid the doctor. You must convince yourself that he does not bear any ill-will on account of that scientific dispute. With all his rough bluntness, Klingenberg is a noble man. Your non-appearance at table must offend him, and at the same time betray your annoyance."
"I obey," answered Lutz. "To-morrow I will go for a few days to the mountains. On my return I will remain another day with you."
Frank's assurance was confirmed. The doctor met the guest as if nothing unpleasant had happened. In the cool of the evening he went with the young men into the garden, and spoke with such familiarity of Tacitus, Livy, and other historians of antiquity that the professor admired his erudition.
Frank wrote in his diary:
"May 20th.—After mature reflection, I find that the views which I believed to be strongly founded begin to totter. What would the professor say if he knew that not the doctor, but a country family, and that, too, ultramontane, begin to shake the foundation of my views? Would he not call me weak?"
"May 20th.—After mature reflection, I find that the views which I believed to be strongly founded begin to totter. What would the professor say if he knew that not the doctor, but a country family, and that, too, ultramontane, begin to shake the foundation of my views? Would he not call me weak?"
He laid down the pen and sat sullenly reflecting.
"All my impressions of the ultramontane family be herewith effaced," he wrote further. "The only fact I admit is, that even ultramontanes also can be good people. But this fact shall in no wise destroy my former convictions."
"All my impressions of the ultramontane family be herewith effaced," he wrote further. "The only fact I admit is, that even ultramontanes also can be good people. But this fact shall in no wise destroy my former convictions."
TO BE CONTINUED.
FROM THE REVUE DU MONDE CATHOLIQUE.
The Council of Trent was the eighteenth general council, and terminated its sessions in the year 1562. None had preceded it for upward of a century, and during the three hundred years which have since elapsed the church has failed to witness one of these august assemblies.
Hence it has been objected that, since the sixteenth century, the safeguards of truth and liberty have been diminished, and that the absence, in modern times, of those councils, which were so frequent during the first ages, manifests an intention on the part of the popes to exercise their authority with the utmost rigor, and to govern alone, without the assistance of those lights to which their predecessors did not deem it humiliating to appeal.
This imputation is, however, contrary to the truth. During the first three centuries there was no general council. Since then, as all admit, the sovereign pontiffs have had the sole right to summon these assemblies, and have been the sole judges as to when this should be done. This power was conferred upon them with the especial design that they might use it without incurring any blame from those who never were made their judges. In the exercise of it they are influenced by reasons which we cannot estimate. They know better than any one else the wants of the church, the condition of the world, the inconveniences, the obstacles, and the dangers which oppose such an assemblage. Possibly, also, they perceive in history certain reasonswhich modify their action. In modern times the secular power loves to meddle with the affairs of the church. It desires to make religion a handmaid of politics, and, thoroughly enamored of its own independence, it would sink to the lowest limit the freedom of the church. Its manifest impiety, its sceptical principles, which, under the names of toleration and liberty of conscience, have penetrated its governments, have rendered its interference far more disastrous in modern times than at any former period in history. The kings of the middle ages did indeed wish to make the church serve their own ends, but they, at least, were in their turn faithful to her. They held fast to her dogmas, and submitted humbly to her discipline. Their combination was to rule, not to overthrow and destroy. But such is not the temper of these modern governments, all or nearly all of which seek to hold religion itself in subjection. For this purpose they establish national churches, which are attached to the universal church by a tie which may easily at any time be broken. They exalt the authority of bishops, that thereby they may diminish that of popes. They exhibit a desire to lodge the government of the church in councils, and to use these assemblies for the introduction of extensive modifications into ecclesiastical law. The councils of Basle and Constance showed indications of these projects, and it was through no fault of the secular power that the Council of Trent did not realize them.
Thus also is explained the laudable design of the sovereign pontiffs in contending against these disastrous tendencies, and in showing to the world, by long experience, that the fundamental power in the church rests with them. They have wished to remove from princes the means upon which they had so often relied for the overthrow of ecclesiastical authority. This is the reason why the popes, during the last three centuries, have convoked no council, but have sought from different institutions such assistance as they have required.
It is for the purpose of affording this assistance that the Roman congregations have been established. Their origin may be found in those consistories of cardinals which, from the ninth to the sixteenth centuries, constituted the permanent senate of the pontiff, and assembled twice or thrice a week in his palace, to consider measures for the reformation of both clergy and people, to receive the complaints of all classes of the faithful, and to decide the controversies and disputes of the entire world. These consistories were themselves the offspring of those Roman councils which were so frequent during the first ten ages of the church; for it may be well remarked that the church, though based upon the supreme authority of the popes, has never neglected those human institutions which could increase its influence or lighten the labors of its head. Its principles have always been the same, but it has suited the method of their application to the necessities of each succeeding age.
Like the councils, the consistories were composed of men renowned for their faith, their learning, and their sanctity. The sovereign pontiffs continually added to the college of cardinals the most illustrious of the clergy, and called to Rome, from all quarters of the globe, those religious, those ecclesiastics, and those prelates whose assistance they deemed most useful in the government of the church. These men were absolutely independent of the secular power, and totally secluded from its influence. Living in constant intercourse withthe pontiff himself, they enjoyed all necessary liberty; they exercised for life the powers confided to them; they had no worldly care or fear, and they enjoyed a rank from which they could not be deposed. They spent their time in prayer, in charitable works, in the study of sacred literature, and in the discharge of their duties. Where could be found more intelligence, greater learning, or more ample guarantees for the preservation of truth?
The principle of the church, that her power, though essentially resident in the person of one, should be disseminated through the instrumentality of many, is applicable to all degrees of the ecclesiastical hierarchy.
Thus, the bishop and his chapter are considered as forming but one body, while yet the decretalnovitof Alexander III. secures to bishops the management of their own churches without the consent or co-operation of their brethren. Thus, also, the popes have near them a body of cardinals, an illustrious senate, composed of the most learned and holy men of the whole world, who assist them in the direction of the church. This senate, collected in one assemblage under the presidency of the pontiff, forms the consistory, at whose sessions the most important causes are frequently determined.
The extension of the faith, the multiplicity of appeals to the holy see, the more complicated developments of modern life, and the increased entanglements of the church with the world have, however, rendered necessary a more frequent intervention of authority, and added vastly to the number of those causes on which the holy see has been obliged to pronounce judgment.
The government of the church is by far the most extensive of the governments of the earth. It is not bounded by the limits of any particular kingdom, but reaches throughout the globe, as well to those countries whose heathen populations demand its constant care, as to those Catholic states which are directly subject to the jurisdiction of the apostolic see. From all these places innumerable cases constantly arrive at Rome, each of which demands, for its proper determination, a profound examination. These are not like cases which are submitted to the civil tribunals, in which material interests only are at stake, and for which a temporary solution is sufficient. They are questions of doctrine, which demand an answer rigorously exact, since these answers determine faith. They are questions of administration, which interest secular institutions, great personages, often entire provinces and kingdoms. They are questions of conscience, upon which depend the peace and salvation of souls. These decisions, whatever they may be, will always be received with an unqualified respect and a perfect docility, which impose upon their authors an obligation to exercise the utmost care. And yet it is also necessary to judge quickly, for the affairs are often of a vital importance which will not brook delay.
It would be, of course, impossible for the sovereign pontiff to examine personally all these various matters, and to decide upon them in a single assembly. Hence the college of cardinals has been divided into a certain number of sections, to each of which pertains the examination of some particular class of cases. This division did not take place all at once. It grew into existence by the successive erection of different congregations instituted as fast and in such proportions as necessity seemed to require.
That which is especially remarkable about these institutions is the protection which they give to private interests, since the submission of each affair to the scrutiny of many persons is a security for knowledge, independence, and impartiality in its decision. Moreover, these institutions preserve the customs and the character of an ecclesiastical government. We have mentioned the relationship of bishops and their chapters. Every chapter was subdivided into commissions, to each of which a separate part in the administration of the diocese was assigned. One had the spiritual and scholastic direction of the episcopal seminaries; another, that of the temporalities; and still another, the examination and reception of the candidates for the priesthood. These commissions bear a certain resemblance to the Roman congregations. The latter were established by the voluntary action of the sovereign pontiffs. The Council of Trent was not occupied with them. It regulated diocesan administration as it believed useful, but it left the administration of the universal church to the wisdom of the popes; so that precisely at the time when its enemies think they can detect tendencies on the part of the holy see to absolutism, the pontiffs without constraint, but of their own accord, organize those institutions which are the best safeguards against the dangers of absolute power.
In reckoning up the number of those who, under different titles, take part in these labors, we discover that the Roman congregations form an entire assemblage of five hundred persons, all illustrious for their piety and learning. Many councils have been less numerous. These constitute a sort of permanent council, which is in daily communication with all the churches of the world, and which, not being limited in duration, can bring to the questions which are submitted to it all desirable deliberation. Perfect order presides over its labors. Like the councils, it is divided into sections, to which the members are assigned according to their peculiar aptitudes. These sections, which are the congregations properly so called, are permanent also, and consequently are enabled to devote themselves to the study of all the branches of ecclesiastical administration for the purpose of determining its principles. Finally, like the councils themselves, they draw their authority from the sovereign pontiff, and their decisions are subject to his approval.
The attributes of these congregations are manifold and various. They may be arranged under three principal heads: administrative, deliberative, and judicial.
The Roman congregations are the supreme directors of ecclesiastical administration. The sovereign pontiff adopts no measures which affect the government of dioceses, the communities of religious, the missions, or the ceremonies of the ritual; he grants no faculties or dispensations; he fills no important position in the church, until the congregation to whose sphere the case belongs has been summoned to consider it. Often, indeed, the congregation itself first perceives the necessity to be provided for. If it be a matter of small moment, the president or secretary of the congregation, either by virtue of his office or by special concession, will render a decision. If the matter is of higher consequence, it is previously submitted to the pope, and a decision rendered, as it is called,ex audentia summi pontificis. If it is of the highest character, it will receive special care and be considered in a full congregation. In everycase these acts derive their administrative power from the authority given to the sovereign pontiff over the church. They use this power, manifesting itself in council, with the assistance of renowned and holy men and in a manner worthy of him who made the world with number, weight, and measure.
These congregations have also to resolve the doubts which arise upon different points of canon law. Sometimes propositions in the abstract are submitted to them for the determination of discipline or ceremonies; sometimes they consult upon the application of a general law to some particular case which does not seem to come entirely within its provisions. They occupy in the church the place of a central light to which every one, prelate or layman, king or simple citizen, may come for illumination. They are not only the adviser of the sovereign, but of all his subjects. No institution of the secular power can be compared to them. He who has doubts upon the interpretation of civil law is able to consult its doctors and professors only in detail. The council of state has no power to respond to individuals who interrogate it; its advice is given only when the government demands it. The courts can render only concrete, particular decisions upon stated cases. More liberal than the state, the church holds its wisdom at the disposal of every conscience. It responds to all, and, without regard to the dignity of persons, it investigates with the same care the questions they propound; for it always acts for the salvation of souls, and considers every soul redeemed by the blood of Christ as of infinite price.
The method of procedure in these deliberations shows the care which the church exercises over every matter of this nature. The question is first examined and discussed in a "consultation;" which document is referred to all or a portion of the members, according to the nature of the affair and the usages of the congregation. The consultors are advised with. The question is submitted to the judgment of eminent cardinals united in full congregation. The decision is laid before the pope, whose approval must be obtained before its promulgation. Then this decision becomes an authentic interpretation of law, not merely on account of the official authority of the congregation, but on account of the approbation of the sovereign pontiff. It possesses legislative authority and has the force of law. Further on we shall see that although these congregations, being officially invested by the holy see with the right of interpreting law, render definitive decisions which are indisputable and cannot be raised by any other authority, yet they are not thereby to be considered as infallible. Their judgments are obligatory because supreme, not because they are infallible.
Finally, these congregations are the final tribunals for the determination of ecclesiastical causes. Sometimes these causes are brought by way of appeal from the decrees and sentences of the ordinaries of different places. Sometimes the parties submit directly to their decision questions never before raised at an inferior tribunal. All these congregations possess judicial powers, and are able to resolve contested cases. The chief of those to which appeals are taken are, however, the Congregation of the Council and the Congregation of Bishops and Regulars. The causes thus submitted are both civil and criminal. The Congregation of the Holy Office is the supreme tribunal for the crimes and misdemeanorswhich concern faith, such as heresy, polygamy, detention of prohibited books, infraction of fasts, the celebration of mass, and the administration of the sacraments by men who are not priests, the public veneration of unbeatified dead, and the superstitions of astrology and false revelations. The Congregation of Bishops and Regulars is the ordinary judge of appeals in those criminal causes which do not come under the jurisdiction of the Holy Office. The Congregation of the Council determines those cases which are specified by the Council of Trent.
These congregations, fifteen in number, are as follows:
1. The Congregation of the Holy Office, established by Paul III.2. The Congregation of the Council, established by Pius IV.3. The Congregation of the Index, established by Leo X.4 and 5. The Congregation of Bishops and Regulars, established by Gregory XIII. and Sixtus V.6. The Congregation of Rites, established by Sixtus V.7. The Congregation of Schools, established by Sixtus V.8. The Congregation of the Consistory, established by Sixtus V.9. The Congregation of the Examination of Bishops, established by Clement VIII.10. The Congregation of the Propaganda, established by Gregory XV.11. The Congregation of Ecclesiastical Immunities, established by Urban VIII.12. The Congregation of the Residence of Bishops, established by Clement VIII. and Benedict XIV.13. The Congregation of Indulgences, established by Clement IX.14. The Congregation of Extraordinary Affairs, established by Pius VII.15. The Congregation of Oriental Rites, established by Pius IX.
1. The Congregation of the Holy Office, established by Paul III.
2. The Congregation of the Council, established by Pius IV.
3. The Congregation of the Index, established by Leo X.
4 and 5. The Congregation of Bishops and Regulars, established by Gregory XIII. and Sixtus V.
6. The Congregation of Rites, established by Sixtus V.
7. The Congregation of Schools, established by Sixtus V.
8. The Congregation of the Consistory, established by Sixtus V.
9. The Congregation of the Examination of Bishops, established by Clement VIII.
10. The Congregation of the Propaganda, established by Gregory XV.
11. The Congregation of Ecclesiastical Immunities, established by Urban VIII.
12. The Congregation of the Residence of Bishops, established by Clement VIII. and Benedict XIV.
13. The Congregation of Indulgences, established by Clement IX.
14. The Congregation of Extraordinary Affairs, established by Pius VII.
15. The Congregation of Oriental Rites, established by Pius IX.
The first of these congregations, as well in the order of their importance as of their origin, is that of the Holy Office. The principle upon which it is based, although violently attacked in our day, is certainly incontestable. Man has no right to propagate error; for error is an evil which causes public disturbance and disorder, and is especially dangerous to the ignorant and feeble, of whom the greater part of mankind is composed. Civil tribunals and temporal governments never hesitate to use this right as one necessary to their self-preservation. It is not, therefore, surprising that the church claims it, since it is a perfect society, and owes to itself the duty of self-protection. Rather should it exercise this right with the most unquestioned authority, being itself infallible, and able to discriminate with absolute exactness between truth and error.
Twenty years before the conclusion of the Council of Trent, by a bull dated July 2d, 1542, Pope Paul III. established the Congregation of the Holy Office, composed of six cardinals, for the increase and defence of the Catholic faith. The successors of Paul III. confirmed this congregation and increased the number of its members. Sixtus V. solemnly recognized its existence in 1588, in his bullImmensa Æterni. This congregation is usually presided over by the pope himself.
The Congregation of the Council was established by Pius IV., in order to carry into effect the decrees of the Council of Trent, and received from Sixtus V. the faculty of interpreting, with apostolic authority, all the disciplinary canons of that august assembly. The Council of Trent was bound by no precedents in regulating particular points of discipline. It reviewed the whole body of canons, confirming whatever in the former law ought to be preserved, completing what was lacking, and publishing a full code of ecclesiastical discipline. In spite of the care with which all these new dispositions had been made, difficulties soon began to arise as to their interpretation and application.The council had foreseen this, and left it to the sovereign pontiff to provide for the necessity. On this account, the pope instituted a permanent tribunal, composed, at the outset, of those cardinals who had assisted at the council, who understood its spirit, and knew how best to preserve and transmit its traditions. This was the Congregation of the Council. The religious orders already possessed an analogous institution. That of Citeaux had always had some one power charged with the duty of interpreting the rule. A similar tribunal is indispensable in every well-ordered state. It guards the law from the deviations of custom, and the abuse of private interpretation. It affords to it unity and fixedness. Every modern government has its supreme court of appeals, which exists almost solely for this object. But the institution of these latter is comparatively recent, while the church has possessed hers for many ages, and, in fact, gave to those of the state the first impulse and example.
The Congregation of the Index was established by St. Pius V. Its powers were afterward extended and confirmed by Gregory XIII. in 1572, by Sixtus V. in 1588, by Clement VIII. in 1595, and by other sovereign pontiffs. The principle upon which its authority reposes is indisputable. In every age the church has restrained the propagation of false doctrines and prohibited the perusal of such books as were dangerous to faith and morals. The invention of printing, in 1450, constrained it to watch with increased solicitude for the accomplishment of this duty. In 1513, the fifth Council of Lateran forbade the publication of any book without its previous examination by the ordinary of the place. The efforts put forth for the spread of Protestantism called for efforts still more vigorous in defence of the church. The Council of Trent reënacted the laws concerning the Index. It published the ten rules which are now regarded as the germ of all modern legislation concerning the press. The establishment of this congregation was but the organization and practical realization of those principles which the church has always recognized, and of which all states to-day admit the necessity.
The Congregation of the Index examines books and forbids those which are false and immoral. Christians have need of some learned and impartial authority to designate for them such books as they ought not to read, and all sincere men admit the usefulness of this warning; for many books are certainly unprofitable and injurious to every one. Even though civil governments have criticised the rules of the Index, they have not hesitated to adopt and use them as the nucleus of their legislation concerning the press. The oath imposed upon printers and booksellers, the deposit of a copy of each work before it is offered for sale, the obligation of placing upon the title-page the name of the printer, and of the signature of the writers to articles in newspapers, are all embodied in the rules of Clement VII. The prescriptions of the Index forbid the distribution of manuscript and printed books which have not been duly approved, in the same manner as the state prohibits those which have not been duly stamped; except that the church has not invented stamps, nor does a revenue result from its prescriptions. Moreover, the state demands an approbation, or, in other words, exercises a censorship, which, though now very greatly decried, is still enforced in regard to plays, and, when occasion demands, to otherpublications also. There is merely this difference, that the church causes its books to be examined by bishops, by cardinals, by men who are at once learned and impartial, while civil governments confide this responsibility to men who are often more ignorant and less careful of morality than the authors whom they control. The state has indeed adopted the institution of the church, but it has greatly perverted it.
The decisions of this congregation are binding in all places; not because the tribunal is infallible, but because it is supreme, and because the popes have extended its authority over the whole church. Some, like the Gallicans, have claimed the validity of their contrary usages; but no custom can avail against law, especially when it is universally acknowledged that the power of the lawgiver extends over the whole world, and that no person, whatever his rank, or titles, or privileges, is exempt from its decrees.
The Congregation of Bishops was established by Gregory XIII. The Congregation of Regulars, which was afterward established by Sixtus V., was, at a still later day, united to that of Bishops. This congregation, which is one of the most busy of them all, occupies in the church a sphere analogous to that of a council of state. It possesses administrative faculties. It deputes visitors apostolic to different provinces, appoints vicars in dioceses whose bishops become incapacitated, and sends forth religious to visit the houses of their several orders. It is the natural protectress of charitable institutions. It approves of the sales, exchanges, and pledges of the property pertaining to churches and monasteries. It has also deliberative attributes, and decides upon questions submitted to it by bishops, religious houses, and institutions; except such as may involve the interpretation of the canons of the Council of Trent. It has prepared the greater part of the bulls which have been issued during the past three hundred years. In short, it exercises an administrative jurisdiction over, and decides disputes which arise between, different churches, bishops, chapters, orders, and religious, and whatever other matters of controversy directly concern the clergy. Its prompt method of procedure causes even lay people, who voluntarily submit their cases to Rome, to prefer its jurisdiction. It does not adjudge according to the vigorous strictness of the law, but endeavors, as far as possible, to appease the parties and reconcile their disagreements. Appeals in criminal cases, except where the offence is within the peculiar cognizance of the Holy Office, are also brought before this congregation.
We are not able to examine each of these congregations in detail. All possess the same characteristics of wisdom and prudence which distinguish every institution established by the popes. The Congregation of Rites was organized for the preservation of traditional vestments, liturgies, and worship, and to prevent that incessant change which degrades state ceremonial, and often rashly increases its expenses. The Congregation of Schools corresponds to our boards of public education; though the latter are of extremely recent origin, while the former has subsisted since the age of Sixtus V. The Congregation for the Examination of Bishops receives testimonials concerning the doctrine and habits of candidates for the episcopate. It fills the place of a court of inquiry, from which proceed nominations of public officers, even of the highest rank; where influences of every kind antagonize each other; where titles are forgotten; and where the aptitude ofevery candidate, intellectual and moral, is carefully scrutinized.
These various congregations become, however, safeguards of truth and freedom, not only by the variety of their faculties, but also by their internal structure and their methods of procedure. Each of them is composed of a cardinal-prefect, of a certain number of cardinals, and a secretary. To this the Congregation of the Holy Office, which is presided over by the pope himself, forms an exception.
The prefect is charged with the arrangement of the business of the congregation. He manages the preparation of causes prior to their discussion. He submits them to the examination of his colleagues, and presides at their deliberations. After the debate has terminated, he receives their suffrages and announces their decision. He also examines into those matters which are settled at a private audience with the pope, without being brought before the whole congregation, and his words give publicity to the decisions which he receives from the living voice of the pontiff himself. Finally, he determines alone certain matters of minor importance, which, on that account, are neither brought before the congregation nor the pope. He receives his appointment from the sovereign pontiff, and holds his office during life. When he is absent, his place is supplied by the oldest cardinal of the congregation, and, at his death, the cardinal-secretary of state places his signature to the nomination of the new prefect.
The secretary assists at the meetings of the congregations, and is charged with the duty of recording its resolutions and acts, of transcribing its registers, and of delivering its processes. He also summons the cardinals, presents to them at each session a brief of the causes they are to treat, and gives them, for each of these, a succinct statement of the principal arguments of the parties, with a summary of the documents pertaining to them. This statement is printed upon loose sheets and distributed to the cardinals several days in advance, in order that each may have time to fully investigate the affair. Sometimes this statement is prepared by the cardinal-reporter, hence called thecardinal ponent. The secretary also submits to the pope the sentences of which he is to approve; and, for this purpose, those of the different congregations have a day of special audience before the pontiff. The faculty of giving licenses for various purposes, such as reading prohibited books, etc., etc., is confided to the secretary; also the power to distribute copies of the decrees of the congregation, authenticated by the signatures of the prefect and the secretary, and sealed with the seal of the congregation, which thus become of valid force before all tribunals, and even elsewhere, if they treat of extra-judicial matters.
The secretaries are appointed by the pope himself. They must be bishops, with the title of a churchin partibus infidelium, or, at least, prelates of the Roman court. In the Congregation of the Holy Office the secretary is a cardinal.
The secretary has under him a number of inferior officials—a vice-secretary, who supplies his place when vacant; a protocol, who takes care of those records in which are registered current matters of business, with the state of their examination; a master of rolls, who preserves the various documents; and copyists, who prepare duplicates and exemplifications. All these are under his control, and for them all he is responsible. They are chosen at ageneral session and hold office for life. They rank in the order of their seniority. Their remuneration is moderate, but they enjoy it during life, even when sickness or old age prevents the fulfilment of their duties.
To these congregations, moreover, are attached a number of theologians and canonists, who act as counsellors in the investigation of different questions, and assist with their advice those cardinals whose place it is to determine causes. These also are appointed for life by the pope, and, as they are generally taken from the religious orders, they are never absent or obliged to leave Rome without the permission of the congregation.
These counsellors prefer their opinions in various forms, according to the character of the congregation. Sometimes one of them is requested to present a written solution of some especial question; sometimes they are all summoned to hold a united deliberation and give their collective vote before the cardinals.
The parties who appear before these congregations are represented in their presence by proctors and advocates. The proctors act in the same capacity as our attorneys. They are the true defenders of their cause by law and in fact. They compose the petitions, digest the informations, and direct the whole proceedings. Their profession is very honorable, but not open to every one.
Advocates are employed only in matters of higher importance, and seldom except in those of abstract law. They disengage, as far as possible, every question from the circumstances of fact which surround it, and examine it doctrinally from the most elevated point of view. Their profession is free; but in order to exercise it one must be a doctor of civil and canon law, and consequently must have spent four years in study at the Sapienza, or three years at the Apollinaria. They are not limited in number, and are permitted to appear before any of the congregations. There are also special advocates belonging to the consistory, who deal only with the process of canonization. All of these are men well versed in theological learning, canons, councils, ecclesiastical history, civil and canon law, and by their own erudition contribute vastly to the advancement of jurisprudence.
Besides proctors and advocates, there are also solicitors who take charge of various transactions and proceedings, hasten on investigations, and are employed in extra-judicial affairs.
The method of procedure before these congregations differs according to the congregation, the nature of the business, and even the will of the parties themselves. It may likewise be distinguished into the ordinary, the summary, the inquisitorial, etc., etc., and is regulated by positive rules or by custom. They are well known to all, and, in practice, never give rise to any confusion.
We do not desire here to enter into details concerning these different modes of procedure. We can only go so far as to make known their general character, and to compare it with our own civil proceedings, which are sometimes, we think groundlessly, supposed to be a model for all others.
We select, as a type of the whole, the usages of the Congregation of the Council. This congregation receives appeals from the sentences of ordinaries, and also causes submitted to it by the consent of the parties; the latter being equally proper with the former, provided the rules are equally observed. These causes are usually commenced by the sending of a summons to the opposite party through apublic official, in the same manner as in civil processes. At the outset, however, a particular formality, called the settlement of the question, is observed. The object of this is to determine the precise point upon which the decision of the congregation is desired. For this purpose it is necessary that an issue be joined between the adverse parties, upon some definite proposition.... This is done either by the parties themselves or their proctors, in presence of the secretary of the congregation, and, in their default, the secretary himself explains it in writing, or, when requisite, the congregation is called to determine it.
This summons for the settlement of the question is served fifteen days before the date of the proceeding itself. At the same time, the original and authenticated writings which the parties have employed, as well as a statement of the facts, signed by the proctor, must be deposited at the office of the secretary. If judicial inquests and the deposition of witnesses are necessary, they are taken by the ordinary in the capacity of judge-delegate, the congregation not being able to act at a distance. Theprocès-verbalauthenticated and duly legalized, are transmitted to it; but as the causes generally come before it by appeal, all these investigations of fact are previously concluded, and the ordinary sends forward the entire papers of the case.
The defences of parties are presented in written memorials in the Latin tongue, signed by an advocate or by a proctor approved by the Roman court. These memorials are deposited with the secretary and communicated to the complainants, as are also copies of all documents that are produced, in nearly the same manner as in the highest civil tribunals. These memorials are in turn succeeded by written replications, signed and filed in the same way. Unless by special permission, the memorials are limited to five printed sheets, and the replications to two. In case of negligence, the proctor is liable to a penalty. No supplementary writings are admissible.
From these papers the secretary makes memoranda, briefly setting forth the whole affair and the principal arguments, the facts and the law, as claimed by the parties, all of which, together with the defences and replications, are printed and distributed in duplicate to the cardinals. These, then, receive separately the parties with their advocates and listen to their explanations, if they judge any to be useful to their cause. These interviews are not, however, secret. Both adversaries have their audiences, and they contribute very much to elucidate doubtful matters.
The day of decision is fixed by the secretary. There is never any delay except for the greatest reasons. The production of the defences must take place at least thirty days before that of final judgment. The printed memoranda are distributed at least six days before it. The circulation of the papers and supplemental documents is finished in the same interval. The audiences to parties are granted within the last four or five days which precede. The distribution of replications is made at latest the day before the session. After this, no notice is taken of any testimony or document produced by one of the parties, unless with the consent of the other.
There are no contradictory pleadings, no public audiences. Every thing is done in writing. The cardinals, well instructed in the cause from the defences, replications, documents, memoranda of the secretaries, and the previous verbal explanations of the advocates, assemble on the appointedday and deliberate out of the hearing of the parties. This deliberation is secret, and sometimes takes place between two audiences.
After judgment is rendered, the losing party has ten days in which to petition for a new trial for the revision of the sentence by the same congregation. The prefect grants this petition; the new hearing takes place at the end of three months; and the party who demands it, if defeated, defrays the expenses.
When sentence has been rendered, and has become of full force as a judgment, an exemplification of it is transmitted to the winning party, who presents it at the executive office of letters-apostolic and of decrees of congregations, in order that it may be couched in the requisite formularies.
The proceedings before the Congregation of Bishops and Regulars closely resemble those before the Congregation of the Council. The delays are somewhat shorter, but the ordinary procedure is the same. Before both of them there is also a species of process more swift and summary, to be employed when the parties desire it, or the nature of the business demands it. Moreover, in the latter congregation it is the secretary who renders its decision.
We have seen that appeals in criminal cases are taken from the diocesan courts to the Congregation of Bishops and Regulars, except when the nature of the offence brings it within the cognizance of the Congregation of the Holy Office. This appeal must be entered within ten days after the promulgation of the judgment. After the appeal is perfected, the diocesan court transmits to the congregation a budget which includes: 1, the process which was instituted in the first instance; 2, the brief of this process and the note of that which followed; 3, the defence of the accused; 4, the sentence. At the same time the court signifies to the accused and his advocate that they are now to prosecute their appeal.
If the appellant does not pursue the matter, a reasonable delay, ordinarily of twenty days, is accorded, after which he is judged to have renounced his appeal and the sentence is executed. If he does pursue it, he makes choice of an advocate at Rome. The budget is then sent to a judge-reporter, from whose hands the advocate receives a memorandum of the case, and upon that bases his defence. This defence is communicated to the first judge, that he may sustain his sentence. All the papers are printed and distributed to the cardinals. The cause is examined on an appointed day in presence of the assembled congregation. The judge-reporter states the case. The proctor-general defends the sentence of the court below. The cardinals render their decision, which affirms, vacates, or revises the sentence of the diocesan tribunal, and is immediately transmitted thereto for execution. This decision is final; and, after it is rendered, the pope alone can grant a review of the proceedings, and that only before the same congregation, and for the gravest reasons.
It will be remarked that there is no public hearing of witnesses; but if this should seem objectionable to any, it will be sufficient to remind them that civil courts, which revise the judgments of courts of correction, decide upon the papers of the case and not upon the testimony of living witnesses at their bar; while, as for criminal proceedings, it is well known that from the courts which try issues of fact there is usually no appeal.
When, instead of an ordinary offence,the crime alleged is one against the faith, the rules of procedure are inquisitorial in their character, and differ somewhat from the preceding; but on account of the weight of the penalty, they offer still greater safeguards to the accused.