During this interval, the disciples of Calvin, encouraged by the success of their coreligionists in Germany, and by the vacillating conduct of the authorities at home, propagated their opinions to a prodigious extent in France. It was in the year 1555, as we learn from Theodore Beza, that the first place of public Protestant worship was opened at Paris. The example was contagious, and conventicles were speedily established at Orleans, Rouen, Blois, Tours, Bourges, Agen, and other towns. Consistories were next organized; synods were held; and ere long the schism from the Church began to assume the appearance of a settled institution. How to deal with a movement whose aggressions became daily more audacious and more formidable was, for Catholics, the all-absorbing problem of the day.

The numerical strength of French Protestantism, in the middle of the sixteenth century, has been variously estimated; some writers carrying it as high as the tenth, or even the eighth, part of the entire population, others depressing it as low as the seventeenth. Taking the mean between these extremes, the sectaries probably mustered about one million and a half.

From the first their cause had been supported by personages of exalted rank and station ; but by degrees it acquired zealous partizans in all grades of society. It was warmly patronized by the savans—by those who had borne the most active part in the recent “renaissance” of art, science, and classical learning. It had made many notable converts among the magistracy and “ gens de la robe and it was encouraged generally by men of education, capacity, and enlarged views, who, without endorsing all the extravagances of Luther and Calvin, sincerely advocated a practical regeneration of the Church, and desired to see that great work conducted by the Church herself. The most powerful promoters of the Reformation in France—morally and intellectually speaking—were to be found in this latter class; and had their counsels prevailed in the actual direction of the course of affairs, it may be safely affirmed that the history of the second half of the sixteenth century would have worn a very different complexion.

But the predominant influences were, unfortunately, of a more questionable kind. The agitation for reform in the Church was complicated, from its commencement, with political interests, ambitious intrigues, private enmities, and selfish passions. The leaders on both sides professed to be actuated by the highest and most sacred principles; nor need we doubt that religion was honestly felt to be the most important issue at stake. But religious concerns were so speciously mixed up with considerations of a worldly nature, that the lower motive was continually mistaken for the higher; and thus, in the case both of Catholics and Protestants, the cause nominally advocated was in reality endangered and betrayed.

The Huguenots (as the French reformers now began to be called) had up to this time been simply a sect of dissenters from the national Church; but ere long they were driven, by the force of circumstances, into the position of a seditious faction in the State. The heads of the party were two malcontent princes of the blood-royal, burning with indignation against a rival family of scarcely less illustrious lineage, which had adroitly possessed itself of the chief direction of affairs. It was perfectly natural that the King of Navarre and his brother the prince of Conde should aspire to the enjoyment of that political consequence which seemed to befit their near relationship to the throne. It was no less natural that they should endeavour to transfer to themselves that authority which they deemed to have been unfairly usurped by the House of Guise. But to suppose that the governing spring of their conduct was religion, would be an egregious misconception of the truth. It cost them nothing, on the score of conscience, to profess the Calvinist creed; while it so happened that that profession opened a most promising prospect for the advancement of their worldly fortunes ; and it was the pursuit of this latter object which at length misled them into armed insurrection and treason.

The Admiral de Coligny and his brother Francois D’Andelot were, it is true, men of a higher stamp; Protestants by strong conviction; conscientiously devoted to the cause of what they considered to be essential truth. But they were also deeply imbued with the spirit of political partisanship; they thirsted for ascendency and power; they were swayed by personal jealousies and deadly animosities. And in consequence, they were not unfrequently blind to the real character of acts and counsels, which, but for the mischievous sophistry of party spirit, they would probably have been the first to condemn.

The conduct of those who held the reins of government betrayed similar weaknesses, and was manifestly prompted by secondary and unworthy motives. Ambition, haughtiness, rapacity, cruelty, were the besetting sins of the House of Lorraine. These princes claimed descent by direct succession from Charlemagne; and not only esteemed themselves the equals in blood of the reigning family in France, but even maintained pretensions, more or less plausible, to the reversion of their inheritance.

The two elder sons of the first Duke of Guise—Francis, the second duke, and Charles, Cardinal of Lorraine—were distinguished no less by their talents and personal attainments than by their lofty birth. The duke was an able military commander, and had gained universal popularity by his gallant defence of Metz against the emperor, his recapture of Calais from the English, and other brilliant exploits. His brother, the Cardinal, possessed a character abounding with splendid qualities, which, however, were darkly shaded by strange inconsistencies, if not by scandalous vices. He was a dexterous, though not a profound, politician; an erudite scholar, an accomplished theologian, a practised orator, and gifted with singularly attractive manners. On the other hand, he was inordinately vain; intensely selfish; an adept in the arts of dissimulation, which he used without scruple; and generally believed to be irregular in his private morals. Born in 1524, Charles of Lorraine was preferred at the age of fifteen to the Archbishopric of Reims;—a somewhat gross specimen of the abuse of Church patronage by the Crown since the Concordat. On the accession of Henry II. he was made a member of the Council of State, and was soon afterwards elevated to the Conclave by Pope Paul III. In addition to the see of Reims, the Cardinal held in commendam that of Metz, besides several rich abbeys. His ecclesiastical revenue was reckoned at 300,000 livres (equal to about three times that amount according to the present value of money). His private fortune, moreover, was considerable.

The influence of this great dignitary was paramount with the clergy, who looked up to him with boundless confidence as the all-powerful protector of their interests. The ecclesiastical administration, and indeed the whole internal government of France, was in his hands.

The Cardinal had accustome himself—like other famous statesmen before and since his time,—to identify the public welfare with his own tenure of the reins of power; and if he hated and persecuted the Huguenots, it was not so much because they were heretics, as because they were his political adversaries. Not that Charles of Lorraine was at all deficient in zeal for Catholicism; but with him the supremacy of the Guises was the first object, the supremacy of Catholicism was the second. The popular pamphleteers of the day represented him to the multitude as a special instrument raised up by Providence for the defence and preservation of the Faith; hence his severities against the Huguenots passed with the world for proofs of ardent devotedness to the cause of religion, whereas they resulted mainly from a reckless determination to trample down and annihilate the party which opposed his monopoly of power.

Henry II, at the instigation of the Cardinal, now embarked in a systematic course of fierce persecution. An attempt was made, in 1555, to enforce the execution of all ecclesiastical sentences against heretics without permitting any appeal to the civil magistrate. This was firmly resisted by the heads of the parliament of Paris, who maintained, in a remonstrance to the king, that it belonged to the temporal courts to adjudicate finally in all causes without exception; though they acknowledged the right of the spiritual authorities to define what constituted the crime of heresy. The secular judges had hitherto been relentless in condemning the Calvinists; and it is a remarkable proof of their altered tone of feeling with regard to the great controversy of the day, that on this occasion they deprecated rigorous measures, and even proceeded to lecture the sovereign and his ministers for their intolerance. “We take the liberty to remark,” said they, “that, inasmuch as the infliction of these penalties has hitherto been ineffectual to correct error, it would be more reasonable to imitate the example of the Primitive Church, which, instead of employing fire and sword for the defence of religion, relied for that purpose on purity of doctrine and the saintly lives of its chief pastors. Let the bishops be more sedulous in personally super­intending the flock committed to them; let them faithfully preach the word of God, or at least take care that this duty is conscientiously discharged by others; let them never promote to the priesthood any but men whom they know to be able and willing to fulfil their ministry without resorting to the services of substitutes. Such measures would have a happy effect, we doubt not, in arresting the progress of heresy; but if these are neglected, the most peremptory laws and edicts will assuredly fail to supply their place.” This spirited appeal was successful, and the execution of the edict was suspended.

The Cardinal, thus foiled, next applied himself to the task of resuscitating in France the terrible tribunal of the Inquisition. The machinery of the “Holy Office” was still extant, and scarcely differed from the original form in which it had been cast by Innocent III and the Dominicans; but, practically, it was obsolete and powerless. The object of the Cardinal was to revive it in accordance with the extreme type which it had assumed in Spain under the fostering hands of Philip II, the success of whose crusade against heresy was mainly due to its agency. A bull was procured from Paul IV, in 1557, nominating the Cardinals of Lorraine, Bourbon, and Chatillon, grand Inquisitors in France, and empowering them to hold courts in every diocese, from whose decision there was to be no appeal; the secular arm was simply to carry their sentences into effect. A “ bed of justice ” was held to enforce the registration of this stern decree of the Pope; but the Parliament, in the very act of acquiescence, took care to strip it of its most tyrannical provision. They stipulated that, in the case of laymen, the constitutional resource of an “appel comme d’abus” from the Inquisitorial tribunals should continue to be available.

This second defeat only served to impel the king and his advisers to still more odious extremities. By this time the “new learning” had made several proselytes on the judicial bench, and the consequence was that the proceedings of the different courts of Parliament were frequently at variance. The Grande Chambre, in which the judges were strict Catholics, condemned the Huguenots without mercy; the “Tournelle” was more lenient, admitted extenuating circumstances, and rarely or never inflicted the punishment of death. At one of the periodical meetings of the Chambers, called “Mercuriales,” the whole question of the treatment of offences against religion was discussed at length; when it appeared that the majority of the magistrates were in favour of a mild interpretation of the existing laws. Upon this the Cardinal of Lorraine urged the king to interpose with a high hand in support of his own edicts; representing that such a step was especially necessary at that moment, in order to vindicate his zeal for the Church in the eyes of the King of Spain, with whom he had just concluded the treaty of Chateau-Cambresis. Swayed by these counsels, Henry, on the 10th of June, 1559, proceeded in person to the parliament, where a memorable scene ensued. The magistrates having been invited to declare their sentiments, Anne Dubourg, one of the clerical councillors, a man of distinguished family and character, made an indiscreet and irritating speech, in the course of which he alluded, by no means obscurely, to the scandal of the King’s immoral life. Another councillor, Louis Dufaur, followed in the same strain, and declaimed forcibly against the abuses which disgraced the Church. The advice of the majority was that the king should employ all his influence to procure forthwith a free Ecumenical Council; and that, meanwhile, penal proceedings against heretics should be suspended, and liberty of conscience proclaimed throughout the realm.

Henry, in a transport of rage, caused Dubourg and Dufaur to be arrested on the spot. Three of their colleagues were seized at their own houses the same day; three more saved themselves by flight. A special Commission, presided over by the Bishop of Paris, was appointed to try the prisoners for heresy; and Anne Dubourg, the most conspicuous of their number, was selected as the victim. The king, wild with passion, protested that he would, with his own eyes, see him burnt at the stake before a week was past.

Henry was not permitted to fulfil this savage threat. His own life was cut short by an accidental injury at a tournament, and he expired on the 10th of July, 1559.

Under his youthful successor, Francis II, the power of the Guises rose to its highest pitch. The Queen-Consort, Mary Stuart, was their niece, daughter of their sister Mary of Lorraine. Her empire over her feeble husband was unbounded; and she, in her turn, was completely under the dominion of her uncles.

The religious agitation now increased alarmingly. One of the presidents of the Parliament, belonging to the party opposed to Dubourg, was assassinated in the street at noon day; and the Huguenots, though without direct proof, were credited with the crime. This outrage sealed the fate of Dubourg. His trial was hastened; he was capitally condemned, and, after vainly appealing from the sentence, was executed on the Place de Grève.

Upon the death of Dubourg there followed almost immediately an explosion of the various elements of strife which had long threatened the peace of society in France. The treasonable enterprise called the conspiracy of Amboise (March 1560), though undertaken in the name of religion, was a general combination of all parties who, for whatever reason, were hostile to the government of the Guises. Its principal cause, however, was undoubtedly religious partisanship. The Huguenot leaders, with a view to remove any scruples of conscience which might perplex their followers, obtained opinions from certain lawyers and divines of their persuasion, to the effect that when a sovereign, too young to govern in person, is held in bondage by usurping ministers, it is lawful to deliver him from their yoke by force of arms, provided the step be sanctioned by the princes of the blood or the Estates of the realm. On the strength of this assurance, measures were concerted for taking possession of the Chateau of Blois, where the court was sojourning, and seizing the persons of the Duke of Guise and the Cardinal of Lorraine, who were either to be put to death, imprisoned, or banished from France. The young king was then to be placed under the tutelage of the Bourbons, who were to succeed to the management of affairs. The States-General were to be summoned forthwith; effective reforms, civil and ecclesiastical, were to be inaugurated, and complete toleration, independence, and equality were to be secured to the “new religion.”

The plot was betrayed at the last moment to the Guises, and was defeated with ease in the very act of execution. A ruth­less butchery of the unfortunate prisoners followed; and the insurrectionary spirit was quelled for the moment by the severity of these acts of vengeance.

From the conspiracy of Amboise may be dated the commencement of the miserable “Wars of Religion.” And the reader will do well to take special note of the fact that the cause of the Reformation was thus necessarily identified in the eyes of the Government, and of the great mass of the nation, with that of political disaffection and sedition.

This character—impressed upon it by the misguided counsels and fanatical excesses of its friends—it never afterwards lost; indeed, the subsequent course of events developed it more distinctly. Those who study dispassionately the records of the time can scarcely avoid the conclusion that it was the turbulent and offensive attitude maintained by the Huguenots towards the civil power, even more than any prejudice arising from religion, that brought about their decisive overthrow as a party, and the ultimate triumph of the ancient faith.

Upon the death of Francis II (Dec. 5, 1560) a remarkable change took place in the posture of affairs. The supreme authority passed from the hands of the Guises into those of the Queen-Mother, Catherine de Medicis,—a personage who had hitherto been of no importance in the state, and whose real character was unknown. The Guises, though not altogether deprived of power, were reduced to a secondary position. The Bourbon princes,—who had only just escaped condign punishment as traitors by the opportune demise of the crown,—were now admitted to the council-board, and invested with high dignities. The Constable Montmorency and his nephew the Admiral de Coligny reappeared at Court, and were received with distinguished honour. Catherine’s policy (well worthy of her fellow-countryman Machiavelli, whose writings probably suggested it) was to balance the great rival houses against each other, allowing neither to preponderate, and thus to secure the real sovereignty to herself and her immediate confidants.

There existed in France, from the earliest days of the Reforming movement, a party disposed to moderate counsels; averse to persecution, anxious for practical improvements on a broad and safe basis, attached generally to the ancient Church, but at the same time strongly opposed to the pretensions of Papal absolutism. This was known by the name of the “Tiers-parti.” It was the same which developed afterwards into the famous faction of the “Politiques,” and played so decisive a part in the struggles of the “League.” On the accession of Charles IX, the Tiers-parti found itself suddenly in the ascendant. At its head was one of the most enlightened and disinterested men of the time, Michel de L’Hôpital, who, by the favour of the Queen-Mother, and without opposition from the Guises, had just been created Chancellor of France. On assuming that high office, De L’Hôpital avowed himself a friend to toleration, and willing to make reasonable concessions to the professors of the “new religion.” As a first step he procured a meeting of Notables at Fontainebleau, where it was resolved to convoke without delay the States-General of the realm, and also a National Council, in which the Huguenots were to be fairly represented.

The States met at Orleans on the 13tli of December. The Chancellor, in his opening speech, dwelt earnestly and eloquently on the duty of mutual forbearance, patience, and charity; recommended that invidious party names, such as Lutheran, Huguenot, Papist, be for ever abolished; inveighed with grave severity against those who sought to propagate religious opinion by sedition and physical force; hinted that the restoration of discipline among the clergy would be found one of the most effective weapons against heresy; pointed out that theological controversies could only be decided by a Council; and pledged himself that no exertion should be spared on the part of the Government to procure the application of that remedy to existing evils.

The fruit of the deliberations which ensued was the cele­brated “Ordonnance of Orleans.” Many of its provisions were identical with those which had been demanded by the minority of the Parliamentary magistrates at the “Mercuriale” two years before;—a proof of the rapid growth of the tolerant school of opinion represented by L’Hôpital. It proclaimed an amnesty for the past, the chief conspirators of Amboise being alone excepted. Prisoners for religious offences were restored to liberty, and those who had been banished on like grounds were authorized to return to France, provided they would conduct themselves like good Catholics in future. If they declined this condition, they might sell their property and take up their residence abroad. A subsequent edict enacted that heresy should not be punishable henceforth with any severer penalty than banishment; and six months later (January, 1562) all penalties against Huguenots were provisionally suspended, until the promulgation of the final sentence of a General Council.

The States of Orleans legislated likewise in the right direction on the all-important subject of ecclesiastical elections. It was decreed that, on the vacancy of an episcopal see, the bishops of the province and the chapter of the Cathedral, in conjunction with twelve deputies of the nobility and twelve of the commonalty of the diocese, should present the names of three well-qualified candidates to the King, of whom he should select one for the appointment. That such a statute should not only have passed the three Chambers, but should also have been accepted by the Crown, is a fact well worthy of note, since it amounted to nothing less than an abolition of the Concordat. But the concession was merely nominal. The new regulation was tacitly set aside, and the sovereign continued to bestow episcopal sees at his pleasure as heretofore.

The Chancellor was earnestly bent upon carrying a further instalment of his scheme of conciliation,—namely, the assembling of a National Council. What he desired under this name was a conference between the leading divines of the two communions, for the amicable discussion of the points in controversy;—a step which, he trusted, might lead to some temporary arrangement by way of compromise, and thus pave the way for eventual reunion. There can be no doubt that he regarded it also in another point of view—as an instrument which might be useful in detaching the French clergy more and more from the Court of Rome, and accustoming them to see critical questions affecting domestic interests determined inde­pendently of foreign intervention.

The news of these strange projects in France excited serious disquietude at Rome. The reigning Pope, Pius IV, no sooner discovered that Catherine and her advisers were in earnest in preparing to hold a Gallican Council, than he resolved to traverse it by recalling into action the dormant synod of Trent—a step which, indeed, he seems to have meditated from the beginning of his Pontificate. That the Protestants, who were every day increasing in numbers and power, would recognize such an assembly, and submit to its decrees, was no longer within the bounds of probability; but it might be possible to avert, by this expedient, the scandal to be apprehended from a meeting in which the most venerable dogmas of the Catholic faith were to be rudely questioned by irreverent schismatics, intruded for that purpose into a position of equality with the most dignified prelates of the Church. “If every prince,” cried the indignant Pontiff, addressing the French ambassador, “were to take upon himself to hold Councils in his own dominions, the Church would soon become a scene of universal confusion.” He also complained bitterly that the French government had not consulted him previously as to the projected synod, requesting his permission to hold it, instead of convoking it first and acquainting him with their intentions afterwards.

The resumption of the Tridentine Council placed the promoters of the Gallican scheme on the horns of an anxious dilemma. If they persisted in their plan, they set themselves in open opposition to the Holy See, and to the first principles of Catholicism; if they abandoned it, they relinquished a measure which they believed to be of the deepest national importance, in favour of one from which they expected little or no practical advantage.

A middle course was finally adopted. It was agreed that the National Council should not be celebrated under that obnoxious name; but the bishops and clergy were invited to confer with certain chosen members of the Calvinist body, in order to ventilate freely, and if possible to adjust, disputed questions; without trenching, however, on the character and functions of a synod representing the universal Church. The Cardinal of Lorraine declared in favour of the project in this modified shape; partly, it is said, from motives of vanity, that he might have an opportunity of exhibiting his powers in demolishing the heretics, and partly because he hoped that by skilful management, the inconsistencies and divisions between the different sects of Protestants, especially between the Lutherans of Germany and the Calvinists of France, might be so strongly brought out in the course of the debates, as to shake the credit of the whole system of the Reformation in the public mind. In the prospect, moreover, of an appeal to arms, which manifestly was not far distant, it was an important point to separate the Huguenots from their brethren of the Augsburg Confession, and thus deprive them of any advantage which they might have gained by coalition. With this object the Guises entered into secret negotiations with the Protestant Duke of Wurttemberg; and the Cardinal is even said to have offered to sign the Lutheran profession of faith, and to obtain its recognition in France, provided the Duke and other princes of the Empire would agree to support their pretensions and policy.

The “Colloquy of Poissy” was appointed for the 19th of August, 1561. Just before it assembled, Catherine de Medicis addressed a remarkable letter to the Pope, in which she explained her motives, enlarged on the many notorious abuses which infested the Church, and pointed out the concessions which, in her judgment, ought to be made to the Reformers, for the purpose of re-establishing, if it might be, unity and peace. She stated that the numbers and importance of the separatists were now so great, that it was hopeless to think of coercing them by rigorous legislation or by force of arms. The party was strong among the nobility and magistracy; it was constantly on the increase, and was formidable throughout the kingdom. Nevertheless it was consoling to reflect that the Huguenots were not Anabaptists, or free-thinkers, or propagators of monstrous and pestilent opinions. They held the Apostles’ Creed, and adhered to the first six General Councils. This being so, it was felt by many Catholics that They ought not to be violently expelled from the pale of the Church; that their difference of sentiment on certain topics might be tolerated without danger; and that such a course might even tend to facilitate a reconciliation between the Latin and the Oriental communions. The Queen went on to specify the measures which she considered desirable towards regaining the seceders, and confirming those who still remained in the fold. She recommended frequent interviews between those of the two parties who were most eminent for their learning and their love of peace; diligence on the part of the clergy in exhortations to charity, brotherly-kindness, and concord; careful abstinence from injurious language and disputatious habits. She suggested, further, that the use of images, since it was forbidden in Scripture, might be advantageously abolished; that the ceremony of exorcism in baptism, and other like superstitions, might be omitted; that the Holy Eucharist ought to be given to the laity under both kinds; that prayers and psalms should be recited in public in the vulgar tongue; and that the Feast of Corpus Christi (then recently instituted) should cease to be observed, inasmuch as it had caused widespread offence.

Such language, from such a quarter, at such a moment, alarmed and irritated the Holy Father. It sounded as if the French Court had resolved to take the concerns of religion into its own hands, without either seeking directions from the See of S. Peter, or consulting the supreme legislature of Christendom. A special legate, Hippolito d’Este, Cardinal of Ferrara, was despatched in all haste to France, with instructions to frustrate the conference, if possible. But he arrived too late.

After much preliminary negotiation, the Colloquy was opened on the 9th of September, in the presence of the young king, the Queen-Mother, the princes of the blood, the great officers of the Crown, and a brilliant audience. Cardinal de Tournon, Archbishop of Lyons, presided; five other Cardinals attended, together with forty prelates, a numerous phalanx of doctors of the Sorbonne, and many deputies from the chapters and conventual bodies. The Reformers were represented by twelve of their most eminent ministers, headed by Theodore Beza, the favourite disciple and confidential friend of Calvin. Peter Martyr, who was reckoned the ablest theologian of the party, was likewise present.

The Chancellor de L’Hôpital commenced the proceedings in a speech which by no means pleased the Catholics, since he drew a parallel between the advantages of a National and an Ecumenical Council, to the disparagement of the latter. The fathers summoned to Trent, he said, being for the most part strangers to France, could not be intimately acquainted with the evils which required redress; and, moreover, would be obliged to defer to the personal will and pleasure of the Pope; whereas an assembly of French divines was directly interested by ties of natural relationship, by local experience, and by patriotic motives, in healing the wounds under which the country groaned. There was no reason, he observed, why there should be any opposition or collision between the one Council and the other; instances were on record of two Councils being in session at the same time; and it had even happened that mistakes committed by a General Council had been rectified by one of more modest pretensions. Cardinal de Tournon demanded that a copy of this discourse should be furnished to him in writing; but an excuse was made for non-compliance. It is supposed that he designed to call the Chancellor to account for it at some future opportunity.

Theodore Beza was then invited to speak. He entered into an elaborate exposition of the doctrinal system of the Reformers, as set forth in the “Institutions” of Calvin. His tone was calm, conciliating, and impressive. In treating of the Eucharist, he employed language which at first seemed almost tantamount to the Catholic terminology on that vital point. But on further explanation it appeared that the Presence which he recognized was subjective only; depending, not on the supernatural virtue of the Sacrament, but on the power of faith; to be sought, not in any change of the substance of the elements, but in the heart of the devout communicant. Beza repudiated both Transubstantiation and Consubstantiation. “The glorified Body of Christ,” he contended, “is in heaven, and cannot be elsewhere.” He allowed that by the Sacrament wo are really made partakers of Christ; “but with respect to actual locality,” continued Beza, forgetting for a moment his discretion, “Christ is as far distant from the consecrated bread and wine as the highest heaven is remote from earth.”

At this unfortunate sally the Catholics could not restrain their indignation. “He blasphemes!” they exclaimed. Cardinal de Tournon rose hastily, and, in a voice trembling with emotion, begged that Beza might not be allowed to proceed further, for fear of poisoning the tender mind of the young monarch. He obtained leave, however, though with difficulty, to bring his speech to a conclusion; and, after a few more words of angry remonstrance from the Cardinal, the assembly separated in a state of agitation.

At the second meeting, several days afterwards, the Cardinal of Lorraine replied to Beza in a discourse well worthy of his high reputation both as an orator and a controversialist. He confined himself to two points—the authority of the Church and the Real Presence in the Eucharist. From the unvarying testimony of tradition to the Catholic dogmas, he proved the infallibility of the “Ecclesia docens” in her decisions founded upon it. All doctrinal controversy, he argued, turns upon the right interpretation of Holy Scripture. How then is the sense of Scripture to be ascertained, unless there be an authoritative tribunal to which appeal may be made continually; a living voice to adjudicate between truth and error as each successive emergency arises? What could ever be sufficient to justify Christians in rejecting the guidance of such an infallible teacher? And then, dexterously resorting to the “argumentum ad hominem,” he reminded the Huguenots that they had been baptized into the communion of the Roman Church, had professed its creed, and obeyed its authority, until certain proceedings on the part of its rulers in recent times had chanced to give them offence.

With respect to the Eucharist, the Cardinal exposed the contradiction into which Beza had fallen, by asserting that we are really partakers of the Body and Blood of Christ in that Sacrament, while he maintained at the same time that Christ, being locally in heaven, cannot be in any other place. It was far more philosophical and more reasonable, he contended, to believe with Catholics, that the Body of Christ, which is no longer a natural but a spiritual and immortal body, subject to conditions of existence of which we know absolutely nothing, may be present in many places at one and the same time. The doctrine of the Real Presence, as held in the Church of Rome, he proceeded to establish by proofs drawn with great ability from Holy Scripture and the principal Fathers.

The sitting was now adjourned. Those which followed were not held in the presence of the King and Court, but were comparatively private. Theodore Beza attempted to justify the position of the separatists from the Church, by distinguishing between the succession of persons and the succession of true doctrine, and arguing that the former is of no avail except in conjunction with the latter. Being thereupon asked who had ordained him to the ministry, he replied that there is an extraordinary vocation to that office, in addition to the ordinary; just as there is a Church of the predestined and elect, besides that outward communion which consists of all Christians indiscriminately. Both general and particular Councils, he affirmed, have repeatedly fallen into error; for an assembly of bishops is not less fallible than any other body of men. Yet God will always preserve in His Church a certain number of faithful witnesses, either greater or smaller, who will hand down the knowledge of saving truth.

Claude d’Espence and Claude de Saintes, two of the most eminent controversial scholars of the time, refuted without difficulty these paradoxes of the Calvinist divine, which, it must be remembered, were not then so trite and hackneyed as they appear to readers of the nineteenth century.

The Cardinal of Lorraine, recurring to the crucial subject of the Eucharist, now enquired whether Beza and his colleagues were willing to subscribe the article of the Confession of Augsburg relating to that doctrine? Beza, in reply to this insidious question (the purpose of which he penetrated), demanded whether the Cardinal and the other prelates were themselves prepared to adopt it? If they had authority to make the proposition in the name of the Catholics as a body, he hailed it as a happy omen, since in that case the tenet of Transubstantiation would necessarily be expunged from the Roman creed; but if they would not accept the Lutheran article themselves, with what consistency could they tender it as a test of orthodoxy to others? This keen rejoinder disconcerted and provoked the Cardinal; and the rest of the debate seems to have been little better than a scene of indecorous altercation.

Lainez, the famous General of the Jesuits, who had come to France in company with the Cardinal-legate of Ferrara, assailed the Huguenots with vituperative epithets, and even rebuked the Queen-Mother to her face for suffering the Conference to take place. Beza retorted in a style of raillery still more exasperating.

Though it was clear, after this, that the affair could not ter­minate successfully, it was resolved to make a final effort of approximation, and for this purpose, a select committee of ten persons was named from the most moderate members of each party. After some days of negotiation, these divines drew up a formulary upon the doctrine of the Eucharist, in the terms of which it was hoped that all sincere friends of peace in the rival communions might be induced to concur. Its language, of course, was to some extent ambiguous, in order that each party might be at liberty to construe it in accordance with their own prepossessions. The following was the draft agreed upon :—

“We confess that Jesus Christ, in His Holy Supper, presents, gives, and exhibits to us the true substance of His Body and Blood by the operation of the Holy Spirit; and that we receive and eat sacramentally, spiritually, and by faith, that very Body which died for us, that we may be bone of His bone and flesh of His flesh. And inasmuch as faith, resting on the word of God, makes present things which are promised, so that thereby we receive actually the true and natural Body and Blood of our Lord by the power of the Holy Ghost, in that sense we acknow­ledge the real presence of Christ in the Holy Supper.”

With the help of this evasive phraseology an understanding might possibly have been effected, provided both sides could have agreed to accept the statement in a general sense, as an article of peace, intentionally excluding technicalities, and not to be too narrowly criticised. But its authors must have been conscious that, if submitted by Catholic divines to the rigorous test of scientific definition, its failure was inevitable.

The result showed that the whole enterprise was simply hopeless. The doctors of the Sorbonne, being appealed to, rejected the formulary as “captions, insufficient, and heretical.” Upon this the prelates put forth a counter statement, asserting the Real Presence by transubstantiation of the elements, according to the authorized tradition of the Church. This they forwarded to the queen, with a request that Beza and his associates might be ordered to signify their acceptance of it without further demur, under pain of being proscribed as heretics and banished from the kingdom.

This peremptory demand was equivalent to a rupture of the negotiation; and the Conference of Poissy thus terminated without satisfactory result.

It was a woeful disappointment to De L’Hôpital and his friends. They now saw the utter futility of attempting to accommodate matters by means of a National Council; nor was the augury at all more promising with regard to the action of the General Council about to reassemble at Trent, in which lay the sole remaining chance of a peaceful solution. The irreconcilable discrepancies between the two great Protestant denominations had been exposed with damaging ability; and the disputants, instead of settling the conditions of reunion, separated with feelings of increased estrangement.

Other circumstances concurred to augment the mortification of those who had been most sanguine in promoting the late negotiations. The King of Navarre, yielding to the fascinating rhetoric of the Cardinal of Lorraine, and to the political bribes of Philip of Spain, abandoned the Huguenots and returned to the bosom of the Church of Home. It was at this juncture, too, that the Jesuits first obtained a legal footing in France. Their General, Lainez, procured an arret from the Parliament, referring the question of their admission to the prelates assembled at Poissy. That body decided in their favour, though with certain qualifications; whereupon the courts of law registered their letters of reception, and they were put into posses­sion of a college at Paris which had been bequeathed to them by Guillaume Duprat, Bishop of Clermont; an institution which soon acquired celebrity under the name of the College de Clermont.

The state of things now grew rapidly worse in France, The Queen-Mother, under the guidance of De L’Hôpital, persevered for some time longer in her efforts to soothe and conciliate the sectaries; and the edict of Saint Germain, published in January, 1562, was a further step than any which had yet been taken towards establishing complete liberty of conscience, But it was instantly met by a vehement ultra-Catholic reaction. The “Tiers-parti” lost the control of affairs, which was seized by a menacing coalition headed by the Constable Montmorency, the Duke of Guise, and Marshal de St. Andre. Their alliance became known by the ill-omened title of the “Triumvirate.” Within three months afterwards, the long-suppressed violence of parties burst forth in the accidental rencontre called the “Massacre of Vassy,” and the flames of civil strife were forthwith kindled throughout the land.

Upon the close of the proceedings at Poissy, the Gallican prelates received the king’s commands to prepare to set out for Trent. The Council had been opened there pro forma, several months previously, but had been unable to commence operations, on account of its manifest inadequacy, in point of numbers and importance, to represent the Catholic world. The attendance of bishops gradually increased, and the first session under Pius IV (counted as the seventeenth) was held on the 18th of January, 1562.

There were those in France who still cherished a vague hope that the collective wisdom of the Fathers of the Church might devise the means of a safe reformation, and that a happy reunion might thus succeed to the calamities of schism. But such visions were altogether baseless. No mere concessions on matters of ceremonial and outward discipline, such as the grant of Communion in both kinds to the laity, or the celebration of Divine service in the vulgar tongue, would have sufficed at this moment to win back the wanderers to the fold, even had the Council been willing to consent to them. Every day’s experience proved more plainly that the gulf which separated the two systems was too broad and deep to be thus easily bridged over; and that the innovations of Protestantism amounted in sober truth, as well as in popular parlance, to a “new religion.”

It was felt, by the deepest thinkers on both sides, that the controversy had passed beyond the region of calm discussion and amicable adjustment. All that remained to be done at Trent, as things then stood, was to declare the mind of the Church, definitely and positively, upon the points at issue, and so to provide a standard of belief to which Catholics might appeal thenceforward as a final and supreme authority.

The Court of France, nevertheless, professed to be full of hope for the future if the Tridentine fathers could be induced to give way on certain minor questions of ecclesiastical polity and ritual order; and these, accordingly, were embodied in the instructions given to the ambassadors of Charles IX—Saint Gelais de Lansac, Arnaud Du Ferrier, and Dufaur de Pibrac—all magistrates of high position, and strongly attached to the party headed by De L’Hôpital.

They were charged to demand, in the first place, that the Coun­cil should be explicitly declared to be a new assembly, and not a mere continuation of the old. Special stress was laid upon this distinction, for the sake of avoiding offence to the Protestants; who, having denied, the legitimacy of the earlier proceedings under Popes Paul and Julius, could hardly be expected to submit to the same tribunal which they had formerly rejected. The reader will remember, moreover, that Henry II had entered a protest, in his own name and that of the Gallican Church against all synodal acts at Trent posterior to the XIIth session, in September, 1551. As a second point, they were to urge that the deliberations of the Council must be free; and that no reservation should be made, as was the case on former occasions, of “the good pleasure of the Pope and his legates.” The decisions at which the fathers might arrive were not to be submitted to the judgment of the Pope; on the contrary, it was to be clearly understood that his Holiness had no power to alter or dispense with them in the very least particular, and that he himself was bound to obey them. Further, inasmuch as the existing troubles had arisen from the flagrant abuses prevalent among the clergy, and from the general decay of discipline, the ambassadors were to recommend the Council to apply itself forthwith to the thorough reformation of the Church, as well in its head as in its members, conformably with the well-known decrees of the Council of Constance. With a view to such reformation, the Pope should be requested not to interfere, directly or indirectly, in the appointment of bishops, abbots, or parochial clergy; the disposal of benefices should be left to the ordinary collators. The Pope ought plainly to renounce for the future the prerogative of dispensing with the decrees of Councils. Annates, and all other taxes payable by ecclesiastics to the Court of Rome, should be abolished; and official documents issuing from the Roman chancery ought to be furnished without charge. Archbishops and bishops ought to be bound to residence within their dioceses, without exemption. None should be advanced to the episcopate unless duly qualified as to age and other canonical requirements. Newly-appointed prelates should be admitted and consecrated according to the rules laid down by the Councils. Lastly, the royal envoys were enjoined to keep vigilant watch over the privileges and liberties of the Gallican Church; and in the event of any attack being made upon them, they were to protest against it forthwith, and send information to the king.

It was on the 26th of May, 1562, that the representatives of his most Christian Majesty made their first public appearance at Trent. Pibrac addressed the Council on this occasion in a speech of considerable ingenuity, though of questionable taste. He enlarged on the manifold snares and artifices by which the great Tempter would seek to blind the understanding and corrupt the hearts of those then assembled in consultation on the affairs of the Church. Self-interest, servility, sloth, worldly-mindedness, duplicity—such, according to this unceremonious monitor, were the special dangers which beset them. He warned them not to mar the good work before them by yielding to these weaknesses. Reform was indispensable; and that reform, he gave them to understand, must commence with themselves. Other Councils, he went on to remark, had been held both in Italy and Germany, which, unhappily, had proved useless to the Church; and perhaps for this reason among others, that they had not enjoyed the necessary freedom of action. To prevent this in the present instance, the fathers should remember that they were individually responsible as judges of all the questions which might be brought before them; that they were bound to give their opinion according to the dictates of conscience, without listening to pre­judice or passion; and that they must not invoke the inspiration of the Holy Ghost from any other quarter than Heaven. This last hint was a sufficiently plain allusion to the pressure which was said to be exercised upon the Council by the Pope. The same insinuation was afterwards repeated in coarser language by De Lansac, who, in a letter to his colleague at Rome, begged that no ground might be given for a rumour which he had heard, that the Holy Spirit was despatched from Rome to Trent in the courier’s portmanteau. After some further admonitions in the same tone of covert raillery, Pibrac concluded by urging the legates to declare officially that the present was no mere continuation of the Council begun under Paul III, and carried on by Julius III in the midst of tumult and disorder—but an entirely new assembly, convoked freely, legitimately, and according to ancient usage, with the consent of the princes of Christendom; an assembly which would doubtless be attended by deputies from the Reformed States of Germany, qualified by their learning and talent to represent the views and interests of those who were striving for the purification of the Church.

The Spaniards, and others who had been engaged in the earlier proceedings of the Council, were much offended by this harangue. The legates replied to it with dignity and moderation; assuring the ambassadors that the Council was by no means disposed to submit to dictation, in whatever shape it might be attempted; that it was fully resolved to be guided by no principles save those of honour and duty, as the result would prove in due time. They had no authority, they said, to make any alteration in the “indiction” of the Council; their office was to preside in it, according to the terms of the Pope’s bull, confirmed by the assent of the fathers. After this the question about the “continuation” of the Council was dropped. Indeed it had been mooted without reason, inasmuch as the bull of indiction was so worded as to admit the view for which the French contended, though without positively excluding the contrary construction,

The Gallican episcopate, meanwhile, was still absent from Trent, or slenderly represented there by the Bishop of Paris, Eustache du Bellai, and two or three of his colleagues. The religious commotions which distracted France were alleged as the cause of their non-arrival; but, considering that the Council had been convened for the very purpose of appeasing these commotions, and that the condition of France was the principal subject of solicitude and alarm in the ecclesiastical world, there was no great force in this excuse. The real reasons which withheld the French from proceeding to Trent appear to have been these:—first, they shrank from the measures of practical reform affecting their own order, which were known to be in contemplation, and of the necessity of which they were fully conscious; and next, they found it difficult to decide what line of action to adopt amid the mazy intrigues and conflicting interests which abounded in the Council. They were far from being agreed among themselves as to some of the most important questions in debate, particularly as to the policy of making concessions to the Huguenots. Even the sentiments of the Cardinal of Lorraine were on many points ambiguous, and the greatest uncertainty prevailed as to the part which he might actually play in the deliberations of the assembly.

It were idle to indulge in speculation as to the amount of influence for good which the French prelates might have exercised, had they shown more zeal in repairing to the seat of the Council, strong in numerical force, and unanimous as to the objects which they desired to gain. It is well to mention, however, that in all probability they might at least have succeeded in carrying a decree for the restoration of the Eucharistic Cup to the laity. In the course of the discussions on that subject it was abundantly proved that such a change of discipline would be acceptable to large numbers of Catholics, besides being urgently demanded on behalf of the Protestants; and there is reason to believe that the Pope himself was not personally opposed to it. But, in the absence of those who might have turned the scale decisively in favour of concession, the Council pronounced that communion “sub utraque” is not of Divine obligation; and left it to the Pope to judge of the particular cases and circumstances in which it might be expedient to authorize it. The French ambassadors, however, entered a special plea for the preservation of one of the ancient privileges of the kings of France, who were accustomed, from time immemorial, to communicate in both kinds on the day of their coronation.

The French prelates, headed by the Cardinal of Lorraine, at length reached Trent on the 13th of November, 1562. They were fifteen in number, and were accompanied by three abbots and eighteen divines of the Sorbonne. Other prelates arrived from France soon afterwards; and with these reinforcements there were two hundred and eighteen bishops assembled in Council. The Gallicans, however, were still a mere fraction as compared with the Italians, the greater part of whom were pensioners of the Pope, and, as such, his submissive creatures.

The movements of the Cardinal of Lorraine were jealously watched by the Court of Rome, since he was reported to entertain ideas and projects inimical to the Papal interests. He had been heard to boast that he would place himself at the head, not only of the French, but also of the Spanish and German prelates in the Council. It was apprehended that, if he should thus assume the position of a party leader, he might be tempted to foment the discussion of unpalatable questions. He might think proper to ventilate the doctrine which was known to be so popular among his countrymen as to the supreme authority of General Councils; he might insist on sweeping measures of administrative reform, and the extirpation of lucrative abuses; he might agitate vexatiously for changes in the disciplinary system of the Church, for the sake of humouring the Calvinists. Every effort was, in consequence, made at Rome to counteract his influence. The Cardinal-legate of Ferrara was secretly instructed to dissuade him from attending the Council; while the legates at Trent were ordered to hasten matters so as to bring it to a close, if possible, before the dreaded visitor could make his appearance on the scene. As soon as his arrival was announced, the Pope sent a confidential emissary to Trent, ostensibly to compliment him by a mark of special favour, but in reality to act as a spy on his proceedings.

It turned out, however, that there was no reason for such excessive mistrust. The Cardinal, undoubtedly, was a stanch Gallican on the point of the superiority of a General Council over the Pope. He was charged, moreover, by his government, to urge upon the fathers of Trent certain indispensable articles of reformation, in the necessity of which he himself concurred. In principle, therefore, and as the leading representative of the Church of France, he could not do otherwise than uphold the national maxims; but it will appear in the sequel that, under the pressure of circumstances, he was practically a time server, and governed by the dictates of his own ambition. He forbore, when once convinced of the expediency of that course, to demand the dogmatic assertion of truths which might be detrimental to the Pope’s prerogative; and on several critical occasions he lent effective aid, both by his vote and influence, to the Ultramontane section of the Council.

At the moment of his arrival the assembly was in a state of violent excitement on a question which could not well be avoided, though its discussion was by no means likely to turn to the advantage of the Church—namely the institution and jurisdiction of the episcopate. That the Christian hierarchy is of Divine origin was, of course, indisputable among Catholics; nevertheless the subject was not without its controversial difficulties. One party (the Ultramontane) held that the powers of diocesan bishops are derived mediately from the Sovereign Pontiff, who assigns to each a portion of that universal pastoral responsibility which is centralized in his person. Others maintained, on the contrary, that all bishops are by their office equal; that their authority is immediately “of Divine right and that their character is complete without any form of institution by the Pope. This latter doctrine—based on the strongest evidence of primitive antiquity—was manfully enunciated, in the Congregation of the 1st of December, by Avosmediano Bishop of Cadiz; and the plain-spoken freedom of this prelate led to a scene of unprecedented agitation in the Council. The Ultramontanes shouted “Anathema! heresy! away with him!” and it was with no small difficulty that the legates restored order. The Cardinal of Lorraine then rose, and animadverted with severity on this indecent outburst. He declared that the opinion of the Spanish prelate was anything hut heretical; and added that, if it had been one of the Drench bishops who had met with such insolent treatment, he (the Cardinal) would have felt it his duty to protest against the acts of the Council, and to return forthwith to France.

Addressing himself to the main question, he proceeded to discourse for two hours in a style which, though it excited universal admiration, savoured strongly of a politic compromise between conviction and expediency. Rejecting alike the extravagant Ultramontanist theory propounded by the Jesuit Lainez, and the view which attributes to the Pope no more than a precedency of rank among his equals in office, the astute French­man steered a middle course, which conducted him to a safe, if not a strictly logical, conclusion. He acknowledged that the Episcopal Commission proceeds immediately from Christ; but argued that its practical exercise must depend on the direction of the prince of bishops, the successor of Peter. Those were no times, he observed, for venturing upon any step which might tend to abridge the authority of the Sovereign Pontiff. That authority was a principle absolutely necessary to the preservation of the unity of the Church ; and for his part, nothing should ever induce him to consent to any decision which might appear to derogate from it. He, therefore, exhorted the fathers to omit the phrase “de jure divino” from the canon under discussion (the 7th canon on the Sacrament of Order), and to content themselves with stating in general terms that the Episcopate was instituted in the Church by Jesus Christ himself.

The rest of the French prelates, however, were not deterred by the influence of their superior from delivering their senti­ments conscientiously and freely. Some few felt it necessary to endorse the views of the great Cardinal; but the majority declared that the powers of the episcopate are inherently Divine, and independent of the Sovereign Pontiff. The superiority of the Pope over bishops, they maintained, is not a superiority of Order, but of rank or degree. The Pope, equally with all other prelates, is subject to the legislative control of the Church; he is equally bound by the canons. Those who most distinguished themselves by thus defending the ancient doctrine of the Church of France were Claude d’Angennes, Bishop of Le Mans, Eustache du Bellai, Bishop of Paris, and Francois de Beaucaire, Bishop of Metz, who in former days had been tutor to the Cardinal of Lorraine.

The war of opinion on this much-vexed question—a question which involved, in its manifold ramifications, all the principles at issue between the constitutional and the absolutist parties in the Church—raged fiercely in the Council for many months, and at one time threatened to terminate in its. The Cardinal of Lorraine preserved throughout the position of a mediator. Theologically, he agreed with his Gallican brethren; but he deprecated any conciliar definition of tenets known to be offensive to the Holy See; and lamented, moreover, that theoretical disputes of this kind should be allowed to obstruct the all-important work of internal reform to which the assembly was pledged. Three times did the Cardinal, at the invitation of the legates, remodel the controverted canon; they were still dissatisfied, and at length determined to refer the difficulty to the Pope. This led to further negotiations and further em­barrassment. His Holiness proposed various amendments in the draft submitted to him, and subjoined to it an additional canon, in which the Pope was declared to have the power of “ feeding, ruling, and governing the Universal Church.”

It seems probable that, had a direct vote been taken, the Ultramontanes would have been in a majority. But the legates, knowing the strength of the opposition, wisely resolved to avoid the unseemly spectacle of a division upon a matter of such grave import; and in the end it was arranged that all mention of Pontifical supremacy should be omitted from the canon, and that the hierarchy of the Church, in its threefold order of bishops, priests, and deacons, should be defined to have its origin  ex ordinatione Divina. That the Court of Rome on the one hand, and the bishops of France on the other, were brought to acquiesce in this mode of winding up the dispute, was due chiefly to the judicious counsels, earnest entreaties, and masterly tactics, of the Cardinal of Lorraine.

The result was in reality a triumph for the Gallican tradition, which, in the absence of any authoritative decision of the Church to the contrary, remains a permissible and legitimate opinion, however strongly the tide of feeling among Catholics of a certain school may have run counter to it in more recent times. So far as the Council of Trent is concerned, it is open to the faithful to regard the Episcopate as holding its func­tions immediately from God, without any secondary agency on the part of the Roman Pontiff; though there is nothing in the decree to make the Ultramontane theory untenable.

The Cardinal took a similar course upon the thorny question of clerical residence, which was also debated with much warmth and at tedious length. He maintained, in theory, that residence is a matter of Divine obligation; but he subjoined so many exceptions and modifications, that it was not easy to discover whether his real opinion was favourable or the reverse to the proposed decree on the subject. In this, as in other instances, the controversy turned, not so much on the doctrine, as on the consequences of the doctrine. If it were defined that residence is necessary by Divine command, it followed that the Pope had no authority to dispense with it; and one entire and most important branch of the Pontifical prerogative would thus be swept away. This sufficiently accounts for the earnestness with which the decree was advocated by the sincere friends of reformation, and for the pertinacity of the Ultramontanes in opposing it. The Cardinal of Lorraine desired to stand well with both parties;—to satisfy the demands of his temporal sovereign, but at the same time to avoid giving offence in the quarter from which he derived his ecclesiastical rank; and the natural result was, that his conduct was not heartily approved by either. The French bishops pronounced almost unanimously for the definition of residence as obligatory by the law of God. Eventually the difficulty was surmounted, like many others, by a compromise. Residence was strictly enjoined upon the clergy of all ranks, including cardinals—but without any express mention of the jus divinum; and the Pope was declared to be the proper judge of the causes which, under particular circumstances, might lawfully dispense with it.

On the 2nd of January, 1563, the French envoys transmitted to the legates their “Articles of Reformation”—thirty-four in number—with a request that they might be immediately laid before the Council. In addition to the demands already specified, they contained others bearing on the residence of the clergy, the qualifications of candidates for orders, the efficient exercise of the jurisdiction of bishops, the regular celebration of provincial Councils;—in short, the series of measures recommended would have ensured a complete revival of Church discipline throughout France. But when the legates inquired of the Cardinal of Lorraine whether he himself approved of all these articles, he replied that there were some of them to which he strongly objected, and that he had reason to believe that this feeling was shared by many of his colleagues. Indeed, it was no secret that the prelates of France were at heart opposed to a reform which would have fallen chiefly upon abuses and corruptions notoriously practised by themselves.

The Pope, to whom the French requisitions were forthwith despatched by a special messenger, was at first much irritated, but was soon reassured by a private communication from the Cardinal of Lorraine, who intimated that his Government would be satisfied with much less in the way of concession than the whole of what was formally demanded; and that if his Holiness should think fit to grant the communion of the Cup to the laity, the marriage of priests, and the use of the vulgar tongue in Divine service, he would find no difficulty in bringing the Council to a close with honour to himself and contentment to all parties. Upon this a temporising reply was forwarded from Rome to France. The Pope expressed his approbation of many of the articles, but pointed out that others were opposed to the authority and interest of the Crown itself, inasmuch as they would curtail the royal prerogative of patronage, and tend to make the bishops too powerful and independent. Commending these objections to the king’s consideration, he requested him to transmit fresh instructions to his ambassadors at Trent. Time was thus gained, and unwelcome demands eluded; but when the French renewed their importunities, Pius flatly refused to permit the legates to propose their articles to the Council. He seems to have done this, not so much because he disapproved of the articles themselves, as from uneasiness as to the possible consequences of yielding to external pressure at such a momentous crisis in the fortunes of the Church. Even subordinate concessions, he argued, if made in the face of danger, and for the avowed purpose of satisfying heretics, would be fatal to the principle of Pontifical authority. When these first steps had been gained, new and more serious aggressions would inevitably follow in their train; and, while difficulties increased, the means of resistance would diminish in proportion. Moreover, there was not the smallest probability that the Italian members of the Council would ever consent to innovations of this kind in the existing system of administration. The Pope, therefore, now made it his chief object to terminate the Council with as little delay as possible; and the Cardinal of Lorraine, who had lately adopted views of the same kind from motives of personal interest, afforded important assistance to his Holiness in effecting this result.

The course of events in France, since the outbreak of the civil war, had been such as to encourage the Government to hope that the Huguenots would be subdued with little difficulty, and that, ere long, the royal authority might be completely re-established. The battle of Dreux, fought on the 9th of December, 1562, was favourable to the Catholic cause. Catherine was thus enabled to negotiate on advantageous terms with the Protestant leaders, and the “pacification of Amboise” was concluded in March, 1563. It bad a curious influence on the history of the Council of Trent. No sooner had the aspect of affairs brightened at home, than Catherine and her ministers began to look with much less interest on the proceedings of that distant assembly, from which they no longer expected any efficient support. They now attached less importance to the propositions of reform which at first had been so vigorously insisted on; and, finding that the fathers were not likely to accept a line of policy dictated by the necessities of France, they instructed the Cardinal of Lorraine to turn his attention henceforth to the means of satisfying the Pope, and to co-operate with the legates in expediting the business of the Council, so that it might be dismissed without delay.

The Cardinal’s private feelings ran in the same direction. He had lately sustained a cruel loss in the death of his elder brother, the duke, who was assassinated by a fanatical Huguenot at the siege of Orleans. This was a heavy blow to the ascendency of his family in France. He saw that, if it was still to be maintained, the best way to promote it was to draw as closely as possible the bonds of sympathy between himself, the Pope, the King of Spain, and other powers, who were the bulwarks of Catholicism. Under such circumstances a cordial understanding was speedily arrived at between Pius IV and his Eminence of Lorraine. The latter proceeded to Rome on the invitation of the holy Father, and was received with unpre­cedented honour; he was lodged in the Vatican, and the Pope went publicly to visit him. In the confidential interviews which followed, Pius ascertained that the prelate, whom he had once imagined to be a dangerous opponent, might be easily converted into a firm and zealous ally. A treaty to that effect was soon negotiated; and although it is not likely that its details can have been so fully divulged as Father Paul would lead us to believe, there is no doubt that they were sufficiently gratifying to the ambition and self-love of the Cardinal. The Pope hastened to announce to the legates at Trent that his guest had gained his entire confidence. Henceforward they were to treat him as a colleague in authority, and to do nothing without his knowledge and approval.

To return to the Council. The legates, with whom lay the sole prerogative of initiating measures for consideration, at length brought forward a scheme of reform, embracing thirty-eight articles. Its most remarkable chapter related to what was called “ the reformation of secular princes”;—a topic of extreme delicacy, which had been frequently alluded to as requiring discussion, and which was proposed at this moment by­way of attempting to counterbalance and neutralize the claims advanced by the representatives of France. This famous chapter consisted of various provisions for correcting and restraining the jurisdiction of the Crown in respect of the Church and its ministers. The preamble stated that the holy Synod had thought fit to renew certain ancient enactments in favour of ecclesiastical immunity, hoping that lay sovereigns would regard them with respect, and cause them to be punctually observed, considering the submission which they themselves owed to the Pope and to the Church. The chief stipulations were as follows:—That ecclesiastics should not be amenable to secular tribunals for any cause, or under any pretext whatsoever. That the Crown should cease to interfere with the due exercise of the jurisdiction of the Church in matters spiritual; whether in causes of matrimony, heresy, and patronage, or in the temporal government of churches, and the administration of Church property. That the practice of “appels comme d’abus” should be abolished; and that any one resorting to the civil courts in the cases specified should be excommunicated, and incur the forfeiture of their rights. That the temporal judge should not be authorized to inhibit the spiritual judge from passing sentence of excommunication without his permission, nor to order him to revoke or suspend any such sentence already pronounced. That no prince or lay magistrate should make promise of the presentation to any benefice within their territories, nor procure any such preferment either from bishops or conventual chapters; any such presentation to be ipso facto null and void. That they should not lay hands on the revenues of vacant benefices, either in virtue of patronage or under pretext of appointing stewards or substitutes with a view to prevent disputes. That ecclesiastics should not be subject to the payment of taxes, or other subsidies under the name of gifts or loans, except in countries where, by ancient usage, the clergy sit in the provincial legislature for the purpose of taxing the laity equally with their own order in case of war, or other urgent necessity. And lastly, that all ecclesiastical sentences, citations, and decrees, particularly those emanating from the Court of Rome, should be at once published and executed, without the formality of seeking consent or licence from the civil power.

These were extravagant pretensions ; and it is probable that their supporters were not serious, or at all events not hopeful of success, in attempting to force them on the acceptance of the Council. The object of the move was to create a diversion; and to intimate to those whom it might concern, that reformation is a question which has two sides—the reformation of the clergy, however confessedly important, being only one of them. The proceeding was keenly resented by the Court of France; the young king denounced it to his ambassadors as an attempt to “pare the nails of sovereigns, while it lengthened those of the priests.” He ordered them to protest against it with the utmost vigour, and to retire from the Council if it were not withdrawn. Upon this, Du Ferrier put forth all his energies in a spirited effort of remonstrance. He recounted the exertions made by the kings of France for ages past to obtain a real reform of the Church and its ministers, and showed how that work had hitherto been systematically eluded. His master was amazed, he said, that the fathers should suggest measures which manifestly tended to subvert the ancient liberties of the Gallican Church, and to injure the authority of the Most Christian kings, who had made laws for the government of ecclesiastics within their own dominions, which laws had been approved by successive popes, and were in accordance with the decrees of Ecumenical Councils. No such mighty progress had as yet been made at Trent in the work of reforming the Church, that the Council should overstep its proper province, and undertake the correction of secular magistrates. He went on to criticize in detail the acts and regulations of the Council, contrasting them sarcastically with the legislation of primitive ages, the restoration of which, he contended, was the only true remedy for existing evils, persistently demanded both by Church and State in France. In fine, Du Ferrier exhorted the assembled fathers, if they desired to see a reform among princes, to begin by imitating in their own persons those great prelates of old, who, by their sanctity and self-devotion, had acquired such commanding influence over the temporal magnates of their day. The surest way to reproduce a line of sovereigns like Theodosius, Arcadius, Valentinian, and Gratian, would be to fill the high places of the Church with a line of bishops rivalling Ambrose and Augustine, Athanasius and Chrysostom.

This scene took place during the absence of the Cardinal of Lorraine on his visit to Rome. The Pope complained to him bitterly of the intemperate and offensive tone of the ambassador. The Cardinal did his best to excuse it, blamed the legates for introducing the subject so inopportunely, and pledged himself to repair the mischief, and restore a good understanding among all parties, as soon as he returned to Trent. From that moment, nevertheless, the feelings which prevailed between the French Government and the Council were those of settled mistrust and estrangement.

The ambassadors, after delivering their protest, quitted Trent and repaired to Venice. The French bishops were instructed to remain, and offer all possible opposition to the further progress of the measure which had given such provocation to their sovereign; but in case of any fresh invasion of the royal prerogative or the Gallican liberties, they too were to absent themselves at once, without waiting for explanation or entering into longer discussion. Many of them gladly seized this opportunity to abandon the Council and return to their dioceses. Others took flight in different directions; six had accompanied the Cardinal to Rome; no more than eight continued at Trent.

The decree relating to princes, when proposed for reconsideration, was resisted strenuously by all the ambassadors present; and the legates found it useless to urge it further. It was postponed, pro forma, to a future session; but in the end it was dropped altogether.

The Pope, on this occasion, made an indiscreet exhibition of his displeasure against the party which, as he conceived, had instigated the late opposition in the Council. Sometime previously (in order to mark his dissatisfaction at the terms of peace granted to the Huguenots) he had cited several French bishops suspected of favouring heresy to appear before the tribunal of the Inquisition at Rome; a proceeding grossly inconsistent with the Gallican usage, which provided that bishops should be tried in the first instance before the metropolitan and his comprovincials assembled in synod. On the 22nd of October, 1563, sentence of deposition or suspension was published against the following members of the French hierarchy, who were declared contumacious by reason of non-appearance: the Cardinal de Chatillon, Bishop of Beauvais; St. Romain, Archbishop of Aix; Montluc, Bishop of Valence; Caraccioli, Bishop of Troyes; Barbançon, Bishop of Pamiers; Guillart, Bishop of Chartres; St. Gelais, Bishop of Uzes; and D’Albret, Bishop of Lescar. And besides inflicting these penalties on ecclesiastics, Pius was rash enough to summon the Queen of Navarre to the bar of the holy Office, there to answer the charge of heresy, under pain of being deprived of her dominions. Jeanne d’Albret was indeed notoriously a Calvinist; she had prohibited the exercise of the Catholic religion in her principality of Bearn, and had violently expelled the priests from the churches, replacing them by ministers of her own persuasion. Yet a penal process of this nature against a crowned head, so nearly connected with the royal blood of France, was not likely to be tamely tolerated. Charles IX. interfered with considerable dignity and vigour. He gave the Pope to understand that he regarded the cause of the Queen of Navarre as his own; he begged his Holiness to remember that his spiritual powers were granted for the edification of souls, and not to subserve political ends; he intreated him to revoke the measures taken against the Queen, and threatened, in case they were persisted in, to resort to the means of redress which his ancestors had employed under similar circumstances. He protested, likewise, against the infraction of the Gallican liberties in the persons of the condemned prelates. The Pontiff, who was not prepared for such a resolute resistance, found it necessary to give way; and, after several conferences with the French ambassador at Rome, signified that no further steps would be taken, either in the matter of the Queen of Navarre, or as to the execution of the sentence passed upon the bishops.

The Cardinal of Lorraine returned to Trent on the 9th of November; and acted thenceforward as the Pope’s plenipotentiary for carrying into effect his anxious desire to close the Council. When the decrees of reformation came to be finally examined, the Cardinal said that, although he could have wished that the restoration of discipline had been more extensive and complete, he assented to the acts of the Council, in the hope that the Sovereign Pontiff in his wisdom would supply whatever might be wanting, either by reviving the ancient laws of the Church, or by summoning future General Councils.

Little of importance occurred to disturb the harmony of the twenty-fourth and twenty-fifth sessions. The French ambassadors remained sullenly at Venice. The Cardinal repeatedly urged them to return, reminding them that the objectionable decrees had been greatly modified and virtually suppressed, and pointing out how injurious it might be to the character both of France and of the Council if the final transactions of such an assembly should be unsanctioned by the presence of any official delegate from the “eldest son of the Church.” They replied, however, that they were acting in obedience to the King’s express order; and that, independently of the odious chapter on the “reformation of princes,” the Council had made, and was about to publish, various other regulations repugnant to the rights of the French Crown and to the liberties of the Gallican Church; so that, on the whole, the interests of France might be better served by the absence of the royal commis­sioners, than by their presence.

All parties at Trent being now agreed as to the policy of an immediate termination of the Council, the remaining formalities were despatched with almost precipitate haste. The fathers dutifully petitioned the Pope to confirm their decrees; they passed a general declaration that all the acts of the Council, from its commencement under Paul III to its close, were to be understood “without prejudice to the authority of the Apostolic See”; and they assigned to the Pope the exclusive power of interpreting the decrees, and of providing for any difficulties that might arise with regard to their reception by the States of Christendom. The altered current of feeling in the Council, occasioned by the conversion of the Cardinal of Lorraine and the withdrawal of so many of the Gallican bishops, is signally apparent in these last enactments. Six months previously, the opposition to Ultramontanism was so powerful that a proposal to assert the supremacy of the Pope as the chief pastor and ruler of the Church had been negatived as impracticable. Now, the entire legislation of the Council was surrendered to the uncontrolled arbitration of the Holy See; and an implied sanction was thereby given to the dogma which the Church of other days had so emphatically rejected, that the Roman Pontiff is superior to General Councils.

The privileges thus liberally accorded were turned to the utmost advantage at Rome. In the bull of confirmation, dated January 26, 1564, the Pope prohibited all persons ecclesiastical and civil, of whatever rank or dignity, from publishing any comments, glosses, annotations, or interpretations, concerning the acts and decrees of the Council, without his permission, under pain of excommunication ipso facto. If in any case interpretation might seem necessary, it was to be sought from the Apostolic See, “the mistress of all the faithful, whose authority had been so recently acknowledged by the Holy Synod itself.” “All such difficulties,” said Pius, “we reserve to be by us explained and decided, being prepared to provide for the necessities of all the provinces, in such manner as we shall judge most convenient; ordaining that whatever may be attempted to the contrary with respect to these matters, by any person or authority whatsoever, is null and void.” A congregation of eight cardinals was afterwards appointed for the purpose of enforcing the due observance of the Tridentine decrees.

The Council terminated its labours on the 4th of December, 1563; on which occasion the customary acclamations were pronounced by the Cardinal of Lorraine, according to a form com­posed by himself. Two hundred and fifty-five prelates subscribed the decrees; but of this number only seven were representatives of the Gallican Church.

No sooner had the Cardinal of Lorraine returned to France, than he was attacked in various quarters for having sanctioned, in the later sessions at Trent, decisions incompatible with the laws of the land, the dignity of the sovereign, and the liberties of the Gallican Church. He defended himself by referring to a formal protest which he had delivered in the twenty-fourth session, expressing his assent to the acts of the Council with a distinct reservation of all rights and privileges, ecclesiastical and civil, appertaining both to Church and State in France. Besides which, as he observed with much justice, it was absurd to expect that, with no more than six of his countrymen to back him, he could withstand with effect an assembly of upwards of two hundred bishops.

The Nuncio Santa Croce now applied to the Government to promulgate an official announcement of the reception of the Council, according to the forms of the constitution. Upon this the King called a meeting of the heads of the Parliament and other great functionaries, to consider what course should be taken. There was a sharp altercation on this occasion between the Cardinal of Lorraine and the Chancellor de L’Hôpital, who still held the post of chief adviser of the Crown. The Chancellor strongly advocated the expediency of postponing for the present any public recognition of the Council; remarking that, since many points of importance,—for instance, the usage of the Cup in the Eucharist,—had been referred to the decision of the Pope, it was desirable to wait, at least, until his Holiness should make known his judgment upon these particulars. The Cardinal replied angrily. He did not know, he said, what religion the Chancellor really belonged to; but it seemed as if he had none other than that of doing all the injury he could to himself and the house of Guise—a line of conduct grossly ungrateful to those who had been his earliest friends and benefactors. De L’Hôpital replied by declaring that he could never forget his many and deep obligations to his Eminence of Lorraine; but that he must beg to be excused from discharging them at the expense of the honour and interest of his sovereign. The Queen interposed to stop the dispute; and the Council adjourned without making any order as to the reception of the decrees of Trent.

The demand was repeated again and again with increased earnestness; and was evaded for some time upon similar pretexts. But at length it became necessary to speak distinctly; and the Parliament of Paris announced that the Council of Trent could not be publicly received without prejudicing the rights of the Crown and the liberties of the Gallican Church. The principal points specified on the first head were the following:—

1. The decree against duels; by which princes permitting such encounters to take place in their territories were excommunicated, and, moreover, were deprived of the lordship of the town, chateau, or other spot in which the duel may have been fought.

2. The decree authorizing the Pope to appoint bishops in the room of those who might persist, after monition, in remaining absent from their dioceses;—an arrangement clearly contrary to the Concordat.

3. The decree empowering ecclesiastical judges to impose pecuniary fines upon laymen, and to compel payment by imprisonment, if necessary, making use of their own officers for the purpose.

4. That which placed all public hospitals under the visitation and control of the bishops.

5. That by which the bishops were authorized to compel the inhabitants of any place to provide a sufficient stipend for the parish priest, and to make all necessary repairs in parish churches.

The articles objected to as infringing the Gallican liberties were those by which criminal causes affecting bishops were reserved to the sole cognizance of the Pope, in contravention of the ancient discipline, which made them amenable in the first instance to the Metropolitan and the Provincial Council; also, the right assigned to the Pope of evoking to Rome ecclesiastical causes which may be pending before the ordinary judges. The Parliament disapproved, moreover, the regulation allowing the Pope to grant pensions and “reserves des fruits,” chargeable on benefices; and that permitting the Mendicant Orders to hold corporate property.

The celebrated advocate Charles Dumoulin, being consulted for his opinion on the Trimebutine decrees, drew up and published a statement containing a long catalogue of reasons which made it impossible, in his judgment, that the Council should be received in France. These grounds of exception relate in some few instances to doctrine; but the author chiefly animadverts upon the canons of discipline, many of which he declares to be at variance with the ancient Councils,—derogatory to the rights of the king, the authority of his edicts and those of the courts of justice,—as well as contrary to the liberties and im­munities of the National Church, Dumoulin was, unfortunately, a seceder from the Church; and his exposition of constitutional law was in some particulars tinctured too strongly by his known religious partialities. His enemies denounced him to the Parliament, on the ground that his publication had been made without the king’s permission, and that he had compromised the Government by pretending that it was put forth by order of the Council of State. Upon this he was severely interrogated by the magistrates as to the views expressed in his writings; which he could not deny to be substantially those of the Protestants. The Parliament, while strenuously Gallican, was rigid in its abhorrence of heresy; and in consequence, although Dumoulin’s conclusions agreed with their own as to the inadmissibility of the decrees above specified, they committed him without scruple to the Conciergerie. He was soon released by the King’s orders, no doubt through the interference of De L’Hôpital;—promising, as the conditions of his liberty, that he would publish nothing in future on political or theological questions, and that he would carefully avoid speculations on the authority of Councils and of the Apostolic See, which might occasion scandal to his Majesty’s subjects.

Special instances for the reception of the Council in France were made in the year 1565, by a joint embassy from the Pope, the King of Spain, and the Duke of Savoy. But Charles IX, under the direction of his mother and De L’Hôpital, returned an ambiguous response, from which it was gathered that, while he was anxious not to offend the great Catholic Powers, he had determined to adjourn indefinitely a measure which would have been treated by the Huguenots as almost equivalent to a decla­ration of war.

The French bishops, however, obtained authority from the Government to give effect within their dioceses to those of the Tridentine canons which were not repugnant to the laws and constitutions of the realm. For this purpose the Cardinal of Lorraine convoked without delay a provincial synod at Reims, at which a series of decrees were passed in exact conformity with those of Trent, and the clergy were ordered to provide themselves with copies of the acts of the Council in French and Latin, and to regulate their teaching and conduct by that standard. At the provincial Council of Cambrai, held in the following year, the decrees were accepted as the authoritative law of the Church, and the Confession of Faith prescribed in the Pope’s bull of November, 1564 (commonly called the Creed of Pope Pius IV), was signed by all the prelates and deputies of the clergy present. Similar measures were taken subsequently by the Metropolitans of Rouen, Tours, Bordeaux, Aix, Bourges, and Toulouse. But it must not be imagined that this ecclesiastical recognition of the Council gave to its enactments the character and force of statute law in France. The approbation of the Church (though even this was subject to certain limitations) made them canonically binding on the clergy; but they were not on that account placed on the same footing with those laws which the executive authority undertook to enforce upon all classes of French subjects. In order to be embodied with the national legal code, it was requisite that the Council should be accepted by the sovereign, sanctioned by the Council of State, and registered by the Parliament—the constitutional guardian of the laws of the kingdom.

To obtain for the Tridentine decrees this universally coercive jurisdiction was an object which the Gallican Church pursued through many generations with indefatigable zeal; but invariably without success. The “remonstrances” of the Assemblies of the clergy, in 1567, 1577, 1579, 1582, 1585, 1588, and 1596, and on other occasions, were met with the stereotyped reply, that it was judged inexpedient, for reasons of state which had been often cited, to proceed to any official publication of the Council. Nor has any such ratification of its authority by the civil power been granted in France from that day to the present. In regard to doctrine, the definitions of Trent constitute the law of the Church, as in all other branches of the Roman obedience; many of its decrees of discipline, moreover, have been carried into execution by the Gallican prelates, as salutary in themselves, and clearly in accordance with the spirit of the ancient canons; but neither its doctrine nor its discipline has ever been incorporated by the State with the body of national law.

It is not to be denied that such a policy was inconsistent with that high profession of Catholicism upon which the French monarchy had been wont to pride itself, as one of its essential characteristics, from the earliest records of its history. For, after all, the Council of Trent was either a legitimate assembly of the Western Church by representation, or it was not. If it was not, why did France recognize and deal with it as such? Why send ambassadors to attend its sessions? Why appeal to its judgment, and seek its support under the complicated political difficulties of the time? But if it was a legitimate Council, upon what principle was its authority questioned and its decisions disallowed? Philip of Spain was consistent in accepting the Council; the Lutherans and Huguenots and Anglicans were consistent, according to their light, in rejecting it; but where was the consistency of the “eldest son of the Church”?

That this anomalous behaviour on the part of the French Government admits of sufficient explanation, is abundantly evident from the facts which have been placed before the reader in the course of the foregoing narrative. But we cannot be surprised to find that that explanation was anything but satisfactory to the great majority of the Gallican clergy. In their eyes, the refusal to publish the Council of Trent was scarcely less odious than the suppression of the right of free election by the provisions of the Concordat. It seemed as if the Government were bent upon adding wantonly to their mortification. The Concordat, detested by the clergy as having deprived them of the most cherished privilege of their order, was rigidly enforced by the Crown to its very letter; while the Tridentine code, which the Church regarded as the charter of its restored liberties—the Palladium of its authority—was, for that reason and no other, jealously disavowed and discountenanced. This fresh grievance was keenly irritating to all Catholics who had not been corrupted by covetousness and the blandishments of court favour. It was a germ of strife, which proved calamitously fruitful during the subsequent convulsions of the “League.”

 

CHAPTER III.

THE CATHOLIC LEAGUE OR HOLY UNION.