Writings by Dr. John C. Rao

Louis Veuillot and Catholic “Intransigence”: A Re-Evaluation

(Faith and Reason, Winter, 1983, pp. 282-306)

Nineteenth century Catholicism was troubled by frequently bitter disputes between those encouraging certain accommodations with the spirit of the times and proponents of a more reserved attitude towards it. Disciples of the latter school of thought have produced few historians familiar to English-speaking audiences, and, hence, their portrait has generally been painted by men hostile to their basic perspective. The likeness that is rendered is not a happy one. Spokesmen for that which, pejoratively enough, is often labeled the “intransigent” position, are censured for lack of Christian charity, a want of discernment, and an attempt to fossilize the Catholic mentality that leaves it lifeless in the midst of a vigorous modernity (1).

The summertime of Catholic “intransigence”, a period roughly corresponding to the pontificate of Pius IX (1846-1878), and all too often rigidly ascribed to his peculiar difficulties with the Risorgimento, has, as its “popular” symbol, Pius’ Syllabus of Errors. A condemnation of eighty contemporary principles, published on 8 December, 1864, the Syllabus reflects all of the black and white intensity most disliked in the intransigent position. Serious interest in this much criticized mentality, however, requires a more penetrating study, an examination of the landscape in which something like the papal document could thrive, a hunt for backwood’s intransigent game.

An investigation of such indices to Catholic intransigence must result in a radical alteration of the received view. One learns of a call for new forms of Catholic action in a changing world, and sees an innovative apologetic. The distance place by the intransigent between the Church and the modern world is understood frequently to be due to his conviction of the inability of contemporary civilization to secure the truly human dignity that it promises, his awareness of its basic principle of contradiction. Finally, one senses that intransigence itself is something in the eye of the beholder, this sin being attributed by its supposed practitioners to the troops of the opposing camp.

A variety of journals, the Jesuit La Civiltà Cattolica and Der Katholik of Mainz among them, may readily be identified as having been crucial in formulating the concepts expressed in the Syllabus. (2) Perhaps the most vibrant of these is the Parisian daily, l’Univers, edited by a man whom contemporaries often felt to be intransigence personified: Louis Veuillot.

Louis Veuillot’s biography, as Thureau-Dangin has said, is, in itself, a guide to the battles fought by the Church in mid-nineteenth century Europe. (3) Born of a cooper’s family on 11 December, 1813, Veuillot advanced from apprenticeship as a solicitor’s clerk in Paris to a career in the Grenzgebiet between journalism and serious literature. His early journalistic work, which began in 1831 and was aided by his support for the July Monarchy, changed drastically in the late 1830’s with a journey to Rome and public profession of a renewed Catholic Faith. Veuillot’s active life was, thenceforward, composed of two interrelated threads.

One of these centered round an immense amount of literary activity, including novels, devotional works, and satirical social commentary. Perhaps most significant in this realm were his attack on the polished skepticism of the day in Libres Penseurs (1846), and a depiction of Catholic and modern Europe in Parfums de Rome (1861) and Odeurs de Paris (1866).

A second thread tied in with the journal l’Univers and the Catholic political action that it encouraged. L’Univers existed from the early 1830’s, although Veuillot’s appearance in its pages and ascension to its editorial direction dates from the period 1839-1843. Aided by his brother and several trusted colleagues, he made l’Univers a key instrument in the defense of the interests of the Church. L’Univers did for the Committee for the Defense of Religious Freedom, the nucleus of the “Catholic Party” founded in 1845, the extra-parliamentary propaganda complementing the Comte de Montalembert’s (1810-1870) work inside the French legislature. Enduring numerous vicissitudes, l’Univers ran afoul of Napoleon III’s Italian policy and was suppressed on 29 January, 1860. Veuillot was permitted no part in Le Monde, a temporary successor journal, but regained his former position when government policy allowed for resurrection of l’Univers in April of 1867. He continued his work until illness silenced him in 1878-1879. Veuillot’s services to the Catholic cause were rewarded by his burial in the national expiatory church of Sacre Coeur in 1883. (4) Pope St. Pius X labeled him the model Catholic layman. (5)

Veuillot’s importance as a guide to intransigent innovation may be underlined in several ways. The first is by calling attention to the weapons he thought to be essential to a defense of the Church. The editor of l’Univers, like other intransigent writers from outside of France, was convinced that he was living in an era whose character required courageously altered forms of Catholic action. It appeared to him to be especially incumbent upon the contemporary layman, who could directly influence the social order, to become the voice protecting Christianity in the political arena: (6)

To give, to pardon, to make God known and loved—that is the total role of our priests; the do not look for, do not accept any other. Our role, the layman’s role, is different; we are in the world, we play politics, and we would like to know who will prevent us?

Crucial to the layman’s activities, Veuillot argued, was the

development of a Catholic Press. Catholic journalism was a phenomenon “born of the needs of the Church in modern society”. (7) Its practitioners were contemporary knights, battling for right in nineteenth-century garb. Hence, Veuillot was prepared to defend its existence not only against the attacks of the secular enemy, but, on numerous occasions, against bishops who disapproved of the semi-autonomous lay role that it entailed. (8)
Another innovative feature of the intransigent approach, apparent in the writings of Veuillot, is emphasis upon the benefits obtained by men through the establishment of a Christian social order. Catholicism alone, Veuillot claimed, could effect a real improvement in man’s lot; it was the sole new and truly radical force that had entered the lists against human misery since the beginning of time. Should Christianity become the formative element in any given society, he insisted, both that society, as well as its individual members, would undergo a transformation elevating them to undreamed of heights. (9)

The individual’s prize in the Catholic order of things, Veuillot indicated, was nothing other than divinization. Indeed, he explained, so central was this divinization to the Christian mission that the Church could not help but treat every human person as a potential god. (10) So strong were Veuillot’s statements in this regard, that many of his opponents misinterpreted his main argument. This was certainly true in the case of an article in which the “divinization” of the pope was discussed, a thesis which brought down upon him charges of idolatry. (11) It is interesting to note that similar problems were faced by other intransigent writers, such as the editors of La Civiltà Cattolica. They, too, were fascinated by the consequences of the supernatural penetration of the natural world caused by the Incarnation. Hence, they, too, wrote upon the subject of divinization, and in vivid detail upon the concept of the Church as Christ continued in time. The whole doctrine of the Mystical Body can be said to have intrigued them. A great deal remains to be done in order completely to outline the extent to which intransigent interest in these questions encouraged a rebirth of western concern for teachings culminating in Pius XII’s encyclical Mistici corporis Christi. (12)

Society as a whole was said to undergo manifold improvements under Catholic tutelage. Veuillot’s depiction of these reflects the influence of Joseph de Maistre (1753-1821), the doyen of counterrevolutionary thought. “When I was born”, he explained, attesting to the Savoyard’s extraordinary reputation in nineteenth century French intellectual circles, “Joseph de Maistre blew the trumpet and I heard it”. (13) He was an unsurpassable, indeed, even an unreachable figure. “It is necessary to place him apart”, Veuillot concluded, “among the great men, almost among the prophets…”. (14)

Veuillot, like de Maistre, did not equate Catholic order with material greatness. He saw in it, however, a guarantee of peace, harmony among the classes, and the victory of both equity and charity. Veuillot repeated the de Maistrean contention that Catholic respect for the human spirit of association promised the existence of a corporate society of numerous authorities affording effective protection against the totalitarian propensities of the neo-pagan state. A community of men on the path to divinization was for Veuillot a polis freed from an insipid materialism and spiritual boredom. It was an entity that would witness a flowering of artistic and cultural achievement “varied to infinity in its imposing entirety”. (15)

Modern man, and contemporary society as a whole, had turned away from God. They had rejected contemptuously the idea of supernatural interference in the natural world. It is this general apostasy, and not the specific actions of governments such as those of the First French Republic, that Veuillot, like other intransigents, labeled “The Revolution”. Those who did not understand that the whole spirit of rebellion against the extension of Christ’s reign on earth was at fault, those who spoke of the Revolution with reference to the period 1789-1815 alone, were destined, Veuillot claimed, to misinterpret its character. Some revolutionary changes were harmless in themselves, while many men and groups who did not necessarily intend to do so assisted the Revolution by practically abetting the spirit of separation from God. (16)

A victory of the revolutionary spirit meant two things for Veuillot, the most important being the inevitable withering of the human soul. Veuillot seems to have believed that the natural material instincts of men who were once influenced by Christianity but had now escaped its guidance could become totally egotistical and utilitarian in character. One might argue that this was the result of a Catholic emphasis upon the importance of the individual torn from his proper context. (17) Whatever the case may be, the abolition of the Catholic outlook in the modern world had assured the predominance of a “mercantile and savage spirit”. (18) Revolutionary definition of freedom as a breaking loose from the bonds of established authorities merely justified the natural reassertion of worldliness.

Yet the withering of the human soul did not stop with this. The spirit of the Revolution had more and more wandered down a democratic direction, developing an obsession with the principle of equality. Here, a false emulation of the Catholic conception of fraternity was at play. Outside of the Christian context, democracy and equality must mean a suspicion of that which could not be attained or understood easily by the majority of men. “Vulgarism”, Veuillot explained, “is the odor, the character, and the inevitable unhappiness of the mob”. (19) Hence, the egotism of the de-christianized man would be limited by democratic heavy-handedness to satisfaction only of those desires approved of by the “average man”. Such desires would become more and more bland with the gradual disappearance of all vestiges of Christianity’s manifold elevating influence.

Finally, Europe found itself prey to and encouraged in acceptance of the Revolution at a time of tremendous scientific and industrial development. The introduction of the machine into all aspects of western life had aroused great hopes for the perfection of European material life. Industrialization, so appealing from this standpoint, required a standardization even more restricting to revolution freedom from democracy. It demanded the jettison of those human concerns and movements of the individual soul harmful to the discipline and progress of the machine. Ultimately, therefore, the separation of the supernatural and natural realms, the victory of the Revolution, resulted in the triumph of the material and the insipid. “Everywhere”, Veuillot insisted, “the reduction of the truth has diminished intelligence, hearts, and even the instinct of life”. (20) Western society, stung to the quick, would soon “sail on a sea of platitudes where it will grow immensely bored”. (21) Even if the initial violence of the Revolution indicates thought, movement, and vigor, its conclusion guarantees staleness and ennui. The chaos disrupting this dull revolutionary society would be a chaos born of mindlessness and despair.

Veuillot illustrated his views with abundant examples from contemporary France. French children, he complained, were being brought up to ridicule orthodoxies of all kinds, whether they be religious, political, or literary. Men were made to believe “that the impudence of vice is the summit of virtue” (22); they were taught to communicate in a “dishonored jargon which would draw forth cries of indignation from the most careless writer of one hundred years ago” (23); They had become “barbarians of civilization” (24). Nevertheless, so narrow, petty, and bourgeois were the aspirations permitted them, so insistent the need to train them for their little niche in an overly industrialized and commercial world, that this theoretical libertinage became laughable. Frenchmen were not longer even fit to sin: (25)

Between the sensualists of the past and the sensualists of our day, there is the same difference as between the great lords who ran about the world astonishing it with their prodigalities, and those sons of the enriched of whom one section of Paris sees the splendor and decadence. The first wanted to ruin themselves and did not succumb to it; the latter calculate, are rich, yet succumb without even having known to make a semblance of being magnificent. Everything is lacking to the poverty of our times, including the brilliance and often even the substance of the vices it would like to have.

So numb was the modern Frenchman to the call of glory that a Saint Bernard would find himself able only “to convince a hundred bourgeois to make their Easter Duty”, and this, “above all if the socialists had preached there before {him}”. (26) The only extraordinary enterprise for which he could arouse enthusiasm was that of “elevating the world to commercial and industrial civilization”, which signified spreading factories, knowledge of banking, and opium to China and India. A terminus to this withering of the soul was clear: the complete abolition of the man of fiber: (27)

No more men anywhere! The production of man has ceased in France. Some men of more or less complete honesty, but lacking talent; some very incomplete men of talent lacking all honesty; no attachment to any truth, but the most senseless attachment to the most mad errors; no more good sense, except in damning uselessly the impotent and evil works one persists in pursuing; no more pride in the face of anything base, yet puerile and dangerous and even cowardly arrogance in face of all that which one must fear….
Yet France, still prey to revolutionary upheaval, had not tasted the dregs of the cup of spiritual boredom. The United States had had this opportunity, and, therefore, offered a more depressing example of the fate awaiting western man. America, Veuillot argued, had never known the benefits of Catholic community. It was composed of individual, economically-oriented moles, “men without history, without cradles and without tombs; adventurers of both sexes who are not even barbarians”. (28) Its cities did not resemble the European polis, because their citizens were “gathered together solely to make one another mutually sweat gold” (29), and because they “only place in common the flesh from which they nourish machines for making money”. (30) It was no wonder, he answered the Journal des Debats, that a place like Chicago could be rebuilt as quickly as it was after the great fire, since nothing of lasting importance could ever have been lost in it. The same could be said of the entire nation, were it to disappear in some holocaust. Priests who entered this model land of insipid modernity “go to carry extreme unction to races who are dying and to some savages expatriated from Europe” (31):
This people does not cry for its dead. It only knows how to cry for money. Fire can grip its cities, but it devours in them neither a monument nor an art object, nor a memory, and the money melted is not money lost at all. One draws it from the ruins; it is often even good business.

One can look at North America and the direction in which it is headed: its rapid progress, owed to the most brutalizing work, has fascinated Europe: but already the true results of this exclusively material progress appear. Barbarism, wicked behavior, bankruptcy, systematic destruction of the natives, imbecilic slavery of the victors, devoted to the most harsh and nauseating life under the yoke of their own machines. America might sink completely into the ocean and the human race would not have lost anything. Not a saint, not an artist, not a thinker—at least if one does not also call thought that aptitude for twisting iron to open pathways to packages.

A second consequence of the Revolution, Veuillot argued, was the establishment of a despotic social order that encouraged this withering of the human spirit. The fact that revolutionaries themselves did not intend such an outcome, but, rather, saw their work as ensuring mankind’s liberation, simply emphasized the tragedy of the modern age more poignantly. There was operating in the Revolution a principle of contradiction preventing it from attaining even its most keenly-felt goals. Hence, Veuillot argued, it had to be killed as much for its own sake as for that of society as a whole. (32)

Two features of revolutionary thought contributed to creation of a soul-killing despotism, the first of which was its conception of freedom. The Catholic understood freedom to mean the right to follow the good and to be protected from evil. He could, therefore, demand removal of the restrictions placed upon the activities of a Church which was destined to lead men to eternal glory, while insisting that they be tightened round revolutionaries who could only guide them to perdition. Freedom, for the Catholic, also required the binding of the strong, the cunning, and the ambitious when they manipulate the weak and adversely affect their own spiritual development.

Revolutionaries, on the other hand, equated freedom with the absence of all manner of authoritative restrictions on behavior. They refused to speak of it in terms of the quality and final end of the actions men might perform. Indirectly, therefore, they justified the inevitable exploitation following the simultaneous “freeing” of individuals of varying character and talent, the abuses that “make of this supposed liberation a real and dishonoring slavery” (33) for the bulk of mankind.

Veuillot, like many other intransigents, pointed to that which had happened in the economic order to demonstrate his theory. Catholics, he explained, saw that there were proper and improper uses of economic freedom, correct and incorrect commercial transactions. They recognized that a good deal of pressure must be placed upon the economically strong by society to ensure that their “freedom” not result in their exploitation of the weak. Veuillot was pleased to see organizations developing in France, such as those inspired by Albert de Mun, reminding the rich that their “freedom” was a conditional one, and had to bend to the requirements of the common good. (34)

Revolutionary economic freedom, rather than liberating the whole population, had, instead, liberated only the wealthy element in society, the bourgeoisie. Indeed, “the People”, when given the opportunity, had always spoken out against the Revolution, while the bourgeoisie had continuously encouraged it: (35)

The Revolution is not popular, it is bourgeois. It is the bourgeoisie who made it, has defended it, restored it, continued it, and who, for the unhappiness and ruin of France, will finish it if it can. For fifty years, the assemblies arising from bourgeois suffrage have been revolutionary; they made 1830 and 1848. Placed in control of itself, the people have pronounced against the Revolution; all the great votes of universal suffrage are witness of it, all the titles that the Napoleonic dynasty hold from it, from the first to the last, are counter-revolutionary. The bourgeoisie and the revolutionary spirit sat Louis XVIII on the revolutionary throne of Napoleon; the people and God asked Napoleon I and Napoleon III to sit on the Catholic throne of the noble kings of France, protectors of the Church and the poor, magistrates of the nations.
Veuillot had been impressed, as early as 1840, at the beginning of his career with l’Univers, with the industrialization resulting from the “freedom” granted to the bourgeoisie, and the consequent creation of a class of helpless proletariat. He spoke of visiting a factory in the vicinity of Paris, whose “free” owner and wife supported all the correct liberal causes, and whose “free” workers slaved day and night for a pittance in suffocating conditions salubrious only for the machinery. All these “free” employees, broken in spirit, would be put out to pasture like worn-out beasts when sickness or old age dictated (36). Should the liberated bourgeois invoke the holy name of freedom to defend himself against restriction of his amoral power, then, Veuillot claimed, he ought to be prepared for an eventual—if unfortunate—expression of amoral proletarian liberty: (37)
I accept that excuse for what it is worth, and I say that the unbelieving poor man can equally use it for himself. He also has become a philosopher, and his philosophy only obliges him when and how well it seems to him to observe the precept which commands him to respect the property of others.
Revolutionary concepts of freedom put society in the hands of the soul-killing bourgeoisie. A second feature of revolutionary thought, its attitude towards government, tended to confirm this domination.

De Maistre had taught Veuillot that serious defense of the common good required a government whose executive possessed a clear, strong, and, hence, “regal” character. Such a power was essential for any effective enforcement of community as opposed to particular interests. Monarchies, republics, and democracies all rose and fell, to a large degree, due to the extent of this strength and clarity of the executive authority. If the head of the government were not firm, obvious, and, therefore, regal, all manner of evils could enter the polis. Private interests of great influence might manipulate the weak executive to allow them to oppress the population; “a horde of Janissaries” would impose upon the nation, “by means of the cudgel, the code of its follies”. (38) Meanwhile, appeals and complaints might continue to be directed to a façade-like authority, as though it were still able to effect the common good. The only way that a strong, clear, regal power could be built in a given nation was by hearkening to that country’s history and determining which institution or institutions could most efficiently fulfill this role. (39)

Revolutionary thought destroyed all rational hope for a government devoted to attainment of the common good, and it did so in a variety of ways. Perhaps the most important manner in which it worked its negative effect was by asserting the existence of one ideal form of authority, applicable everywhere, regardless of historical circumstances. Since 1815, a parliamentary system modeled after those of England and the United States had frequently been singled out as the sole form fit to aid human progress. Veuillot was particularly convinced that his contemporaries’ treatment of America as a guide to solving their own difficulties was dangerous. It assumed the perfection of an infant land, which had not yet been molded by its own traditions and the actions of those “comets” which are called “great men”. One did not really know what the results of parliamentary government even in America might be, and one could not know until sufficient time had been given for it to mature. Veuillot personally doubted its quality and its ability to maintain itself: (40)

Through fisticuffs and slander, by means of a thousand frauds, they {the Americans} manufacture for themselves from day to day governmental tools made purposely to be worn out quickly….They take a workman, a corporal, a buffalo herder, a pig-skinner, a speculator in newspapers; they place him at the head of the country, under safe guard; they heap outrages upon him, he allows himself a thousand improprieties, and this lasts three years {sic}, thanks to his tricks, when he has sufficient spirit to trick. When he departs, covered with spittle, another replaces him who spat upon his predecessor, and upon whom someone else will spit. This works for them, and it will last until they have become too savage to retain the same leader for three years. They will then create dictators who will perpetuate themselves, or they will devour one another, and the loveliest republic of the world will end by being a strongly disciplined hereditary empire, or a cave and a slaughterhouse.

More significant for Veuillot was the delusion that this developing country, this “tumble of merchants and adventurers who, on the land cleared but yesterday, have neither traditions, nor neighbors, nor boundaries” (41), could ever serve as a model to civilized France, even when matured. Presuming the validity and effectiveness of the American system in the United States told nothing of its potential career in France. “What does the parliamentary regime in England and America matter to us”, Veuillot asked, revealing once more the de Maistrean heritage; “it is necessary to see what it has done, what it is and what it can become here” (42). Elaborate theories might be constructed to insist upon its universal efficacy, “lovely correlations of reciprocal rights and duties traced on paper”, checks and balances provided in abundance. Despite all precautions, its dogmatic and a-historical application promised disaster: (43)

…all this lovely mechanism, which functioned so easily and so philanthropically in the inventor’s study, seems, before long, to be wicked in its use; it becomes disordered, it spreads terror and death around it. Before long, no more remains of it than a pile of debris on a heap of corpses around which, from all points on the horizon, come running the beasts of prey.
Everywhere that “ideal” revolutionary governments were established in disregard of the historical traditions of a nation, they enabled the strong and the ambitious to manipulate them to serve their private interests. In practice, this meant the control of republican and democratic states by the revolutionary-bourgeois element. It was logically impossible for these states to respect the “freedom” of the bulk of their citizens. They must, to take but one example, destroy the Catholic world view which offered a different definition of liberty, regardless of the number of believing Christians under their control. If, somehow, the real will of the non-revolutionary majority triumphed, as it did in the Belgian debate over the autonomy of charitable institutions in 1857, the radical-bourgeois power regained the upper hand through extra-legal means. And it did so while continuing to maintain the popular image: (44)
There is no hope of winning by discussion should the majority hold firm against sophisms, ruses, threats: then the windows of the gallery, which are always arranged to look out onto the street, are opened; one cries to the crowd that the majority is betraying the people, that it wants to enchain it, that it wants to brutalize it. The crowd enters, it howls, it boos, it breaks, it silences, it votes: a street carries the motion above all the contrary voices, the majority is changed, the law is made.
“That which liberalism refuses to Catholics in Belgium and everywhere it is in control is the freedom to obey God”, Veuillot complained; that which it tolerates is only “the imaginary freedom of animals and rebels”. (45) “France is a country conquered by materialism and impiety”, he argued, “and materialism and impiety treat it like a conquered country, but one still quivering. Those who resist are destroyed; it is still necessary to treat the others with caution”. (46) Veuillot expressed bewilderment after 1870 at the fact that some Frenchmen feared that a legitimist victory would force their attendance at Mass. This kind of pressure, he insisted, was alien to the Catholic approach. In contrast, “the others will make you go where they want; they will impose another hypocrisy that you will not {be able} to disdain”. (47)

Nothing was left by revolutionary political thought to permit opposition to the radical-bourgeois manipulation of the modern state. Groundless “divisions of power” were of as paltry a value as an insubstantial commitment to impossibly formless conceptions of rule by all the people: (48)

Bonaparte reestablished religion in spite of freedom: if he had wanted to undo that which he had done, would he have been prevented by freedom? By the freedom of the Church, yes; that is to say, if there were found enough priests and Christians to resist him at the peril of their fortune and their life. By political freedom, no.

There existed no mechanical device by means of which the problem of good and evil, of statesmen with good intentions and tyrants with bad ones, could be avoided. Insofar as purely political protections could be found against the pretensions of a state gone astray, they had to be based upon the existence of independent centers of authority from which resistance could be conducted. The multiform corporate life inspired by Catholic recognition of the goodness of association and authority could—and had—given birth to this type of protection; revolutionary insistence upon atomistic freedom must –and did--destroy it. Revolutionary bourgeois thought dismantles the authority of the subsidiary corporations by relying upon the power of the radicalized state to work its will, leaving that state as the sole remaining viable force in society. Woe to the bourgeoisie should an outraged proletariat seize such a powerful instrument to destroy its class enemy! (49)

Catholicism created in all states a multitude of living forces which united individuals in powerful and durable associations, and placed them under shelter from the oppression of power. Protestantism and philosophy demolished all these fortresses of liberty one after the other. Nothing has remained facing the state but individuals impotent in defending themselves against it. Now the socialists propose recognizing the state’s rights over the individuals like those which protestantism and philosophy gave it over the moral persons {i.e., corporations}, which it killed one by one. This is logical: why should it not absorb individuals like it has absorbed all the rest?
An article entitle Le canon rayé, published in 1859, noted that which could happen when an absolute revolutionary power flourished in tandem with banal modern civilization. The nineteenth century, the witness to this phenomenon, would proceed inevitably towards the establishment of a universal state, headed by a charismatic dictator, whose power would rest upon a bureaucratic elite skilled in techniques of manipulation: (50)
Everywhere the conqueror will find one thing, everywhere the same, the only thing that war and the Revolution will nowhere have overturned: bureaucracy. Everywhere, the bureaux will have prepared the way for him, everywhere they await him with a servile eagerness. He will support himself on them, the universal Empire will be the administrative Empire par excellence. Adding without end to that precious machinery, he will carry it to a point of incomparable power. Thus perfected, administration will satisfy simultaneously its own genius and the designs of its master in applying itself to two main works: the realization of equality and of material well-being to an unheard degree; the suppression of liberty to an unheard degree.
Men ruled by this system would be much more easily oppressed than at any time in the past. Such facility would be due not so much to the fact that new weapons would give the dictator undreamed instruments of control as to the sad reality that stupefied machine man would approve of his chains, and a dull-witted intelligentsia would bless them. The subjects created by contemporary civilization were, after all, totally distinct from men of preceding generations. “These forces, which today’s man possesses”, Veuillot wrote, “possess him also; they engage him in weaknesses as unmeasured as his pride; weaknesses which succeed in changing him completely”. (51) Men had been transformed into absurdities, beings unable to desire the destiny outlined for them by the Gospel, “too powerful to control the taste for pleasure”. (52) The universal Empire would enslave such creatures by providing for their most banal needs: (53)
The police will take care that one is amused and that its reins never trouble the flesh. The administration will dispense the citizen of all care. It will fix his situation, his habitation, his vocation, his occupations. It will dress him and allot to him the quantity of air that he must breathe. It will have chosen him his mother, it will choose him his temporary wife; it will raise his children; it will take care of him in his illnesses; it will bury and burn his body, and dispose of his ashes in a record box with his name and his number.
As time goes on, this task would become simpler and simpler. A decline in human imagination would entail a destruction of the taste for a variety of pleasures: (54)
But why would he change places and climates? There will not be any more different places or climates, nor any curiosity anywhere. Man will find everywhere the same moderate temperature, the same customs, the same administrative rules, and infallibly the same police taking the same care of him. Everywhere the same language will be spoken, the bayadères will everywhere dance the same ballet. The old diversity would be a memory of the old liberty, an outrage to the new equality, a greater outrage to the bureaux which would be suspected of not being able to establish uniformity everywhere. Their pride will not suffer that. Everything will be done in the image of the main city of the Empire and of the world.
Veuillot does not appear to have believed that radical revolutionaries were themselves the most dangerous force facing mid-nineteenth century Catholics. Indeed, one might almost argue that he thought them to possess certain admirable qualities. They, at least, were still vigorously alive, misdirected though their passion might be. They, at least, were serious enough to understand the folly of separation of Church and State, in the sense that they recognized the need to translate their personal beliefs into political and social institutions in order to ensure their survival. Their relative harmlessness also lay in the very offensiveness of their views. Boldly stated, these tended to terrify and repel the population. Radical success required the aid of less fervent and less logical men who might open an unwary nation’s doors to the full consequences of the Revolution.

Perhaps the unthinking proponents of machinedom, whose obsession with commercial and industrial development engendered more difficulties for man than it offered solutions to basic human dilemmas, could be singled out as being more fearful in Veuillot’s eyes. The degree to which such persons mute revolutionary enthusiasm—indeed, all enthusiasm—to satisfy purely utilitarian demands has already been noted above. Their pragmatism gave them an entry into society denied to seemingly more dangerous radicals, yet they, too, required the Revolution, with its exaggeration of man’s natural destiny, in order to prosper.

Nevertheless, Veuillot assigned the role of true villain and most grave threat to those who labeled themselves “conservatives” and “Liberal Catholics”. Conservatives, he explained, were men who wasted their energies opposing specific manifestations of the Revolution—as, for example, the Reign of Terror—while refusing to combat the infection of naturalism lying behind it. Liberal Catholics, at least at the beginning of their careers, shared the same outlook as true counterrevolutionaries, but reproached them for being too harsh in their criticism of modernity. These liberals blamed their fellow believers for the violent hostility displayed by revolutionaries towards the Church. Both groups opposed the “fanatical”, “close-minded”, and “uncharitable” tactics of Veuillot and his allies.

The editor of l’Univers attributed the gravity of the conservative/Liberal Catholic threat to three causes. One was the fact that the failure of the conservatives to treat the intellectual context of the Revolution seriously, and the refusal of the liberals to accept the logical necessity of Catholic-revolutionary enmity, forced both to contribute to the general attack upon the human mind. Veuillot complained that it was actually his rational insistence upon close examination of ideas and their consequences which was equated with fanaticism. “Open-mindedness”, on the other hand, as he noted in a critique of certain statements made by Albert de Broglie, essentially and ironically involved abandonment of all serious analysis: (55)

In the islands of Oceania, the savages who fill the office of priests often indulge the whim of declaring that such and such an object is…taboo, that is to say, sacred, and from that point no one can touch it under pain of sacrilege and of death. Are we going to accord the same faculty to the flamines of the ideas of ’89, and will everything that they have regarded with a pleasurable eye be taboo for the rest of mortals?…All revolutionary institutions and all their consequences, whatever they may be, taboo! One must be quiet and adore, or perish! This fetishism is new, at least among Catholics and conservatives.
Veuillot criticized the type of “thinker” and “great man” that must develop from this “moderate” outlook in one frequently-cited passage from Les Libres Penseurs: (56)
He is the author of {a} volume, he speaks in it of everything: there lies a title to the Academy of Moral and Political Sciences. It is here that the debate between Leibnitz and Bossuet is definitely settled; it is here that the hidden motives of Descartes are revealed, and that the secret incredulity of the simple Malebranches is demonstrated as clear as day. Here, too, the final word on Voltaire is pronounced, and one sees in it how the author of Candide is more spiritual and orthodox than the devout have cared to believe. In a certain section, found towards the middle, the master takes a very objective position in the struggle of the Church with philosophy. The Church would be wrong to complain: the young man does not hate her at all, he is rather good-willed. Without a doubt, ‘the priests are not that which a vain people thinks’, but in their doctrines and in their general character there is a goodness that the young man recognizes and confesses. This is not the generosity of a beginner, it is the judgment and sentence of a mature spirit. He is not at all generous, he is wise; he is not dazzled, he knows. The Church rests upon certain needs of the human soul; it has a right to these, it can go that far, but not further! Further lies the superior domain of the reason and philosophy. If the Church had the temerity to breach this limit, it would find the young man there, respectful but inflexible; he would cry to it: Stop! Do not fear that it may pass this limit. This is why he does not approve his friends who are alarmed, and who, ‘in the heat of an anger more legitimate than philosophical’, write that all priests are scoundrels, all pious women adulterous, the whole Catholic edifice a heap of impostures. No! Here lies exaggeration. He will deny these hyperboles. He is just, he is calm, he has studied, he has meditated. He sees that the lower class has need of a religion, and the Catholic system seems to him to satisfy better than another that need of the rabble. All this is said in an academic form, without fault of French, without pause, without emphasis…citing Kant, Hegel, Schelling, Saint Bonaventure, Thomas Reed, Brockius, Pintus, Chopinetti, and the Third Council of Sardis. He is titular professor, chevalier of the Legion of Honor, intimate of the Journal des Debats. He will be married well, his books will be bought for the public libraries, he will be deputy, royal counselor, minister. He is called the hope of philosophy now, he will one day be called its honor. Myself, I call him a turnip.
A second reason for viewing conservatives and Liberal Catholics with alarm follows logically from the first. Veuillot argued that a serious opponent of the Revolution, a man who recognized the chasm separating the Catholic and secular world views, had to be what his enemies called “intransigent” in his hostility towards it. Catholic journalism, this novus organum, had to be frank, hard-hitting, and consistent in its attack. Adoption of a conciliatory spirit was a miscalculation of even cosmic proportions, in that it sacrificed the souls of existing believers in the gamble for an impossible entente. The enemy already had tremendous advantages in this spiritual combat, Catholics finding themselves unconsciously using his language and teaching methods, and open to sweet blandishments at every turn. It was critical to adopt all legitimate weapons to save the home camp from infection, subversion, and demoralization. “We are fighting a war”, Veuillot concluded, aptly summarizing the concerns of such sister journals as the Civiltà as well, “wherein it is always necessary to burn one’s ships”: (57)
We see them in the schools, in the midst of a young generation which they water without scruple with all the poisons of error; they have audacity on their faces, mockery in their mouths; they permit us to believe that they have atheism in their hearts. We count their victims by the hundreds, and in our souls themselves there stirs a remnant of their poisons. May God convert them tomorrow! Our task is to escape them today. Finally, will we, out of respect for a small number of mad or wicked men, who, being devoted to the propagation of evil, will always cry that they are being injured when one attacks evil, suffer it to pass and circulate insolently, to carry demoralization along with error into minds, so that the spirits that it will darken will not be able to recover the light, so that the Church, defamed, will not find an immediate defense?
A firm position would prepare the Catholic for battle. “If our voice is not able to make a believer out of an unbeliever”, Veuillot argued, “it can make an apostle of a believer, like the stories and good examples of war, like the sound of the trumpet makes a warrior of a soldier”. (58) Ultimately, however, it was dictated not by any utilitarian considerations, but by simple duty. The Catholic’s obligation was to proclaim the truth, in season and out of season, and to allow providence to take care of the rest: (59)
The truth is attacked, it is necessary to save our brother; the land of servitude is evil, the faith is lost therein, the soul is oppressed therein. It does not matter what floods and what dryness separate us from the land promised to our ancestors, and it is necessary to flee servitude. A way will open up under the waves, manna will rain down in the desert!
Veuillot claimed that the “dogmatic” moderate and the so-called pragmatic statesman prevent a solid, effective defense against the Revolution. They invite the radical enemy, who would not otherwise have been able to enter, into the camp and demoralize the forces of order. They always doom the society under their spell, preparing their own pathway to the guillotine: (60)
Those men have been labeled conservatives who, since 1815, have formed the parliamentary majorities that have been seen to fight the revolution, but for the profit of the revolution. The conservative majorities have not conserved anything. Gradually they have delivered everything and have themselves been delivered to the violent minorities that they have seemed to combat, but to which, in reality, they submitted.
The third and final explanation for the conservative/Liberal Catholic danger is the dolorous fact that many of those who first prevented serious analysis of the enemy’s thought, and, thus, opened the gates to the Revolution, eventually adopted the enemy’s cause as their own. Such an outcome, Veuillot believed, was only to be expected, since vigorous belief always triumphs over the determinedly indecisive.

Two cases may be cited to illustrate Veuillot’s arguments. The first concerns the journal l’Ere Nouvelle and its support in 1848 for Christian Democracy. Proper treatment of this subject requires a discussion of l’Univers’ specific political stance.

Veuillot was never a legitimist in the popular sense of the term. True, at times, and especially later in his career, he was a fervent proponent of monarchical restoration in France, but his interest in a specifically legitimist restoration was tied in with his understanding of its utility for the cause of Church and Fatherland. (61) An indifference to political form expressed during the battle for educational freedom conducted during the July Monarchy, when he indicated a willingness to support anyone opposed to the monopoly of the University {the name given to the centralized educational system in France—author’s note}, continued to be official policy during Veuillot’s long editorship of l’Univers. (62) “In the midst of a Europe agitated and upset by the clash of all systems”, he wrote in 1848, and could equally have asserted thirty years later, “the Church is not especially absolutist, or monarchist, or republican: she is the Church”. (63) Friendship for Catholic ideas was the sole determining factor in l’Univers’ stance towards any regime: (64)

…we reserve our homage and our love for the authority truly worthy of us which, coming out of the present anarchy, marching towards the new destinies of France, a cross in hand, will make it known that it comes from God….We are only entirely hostile to the radical source of disorder, to impiety, to the vitiation of doctrines, to the frightful degradation of morals.
Take a Don Carlos or a Henri de Bourbon and place him at the head of a legitimate Catholic monarchy: well-founded hopes of good government existed. “Who”, Veuillot asked after the revolutions of 1848, “would not prefer to live under the absolute scepter of Saint Louis than under the fraternal musket of the democrats of Rome, of Berne, or Vienna, or of Paris?” (65) Yet, deprive a monarchist state of this driving force and one would see its animation disappear and its defenses against its enemies broken. It was thus that the centralization of Louis XIV prepared the way for revolutionary despotism, that Louis XVIII failed to understand the true character of his age, that legitimists never seemed to attack the central aspects of the Revolution, and that their most favorable opportunities were doomed to failure: (66)
Re-establish the legitimate monarchy, give it a Chamber elected in the most favorable conditions, made up only of the most zealous legitimists themselves; let them impose upon the press draconian laws: there will be an opposition in several months, a Revolution in several years, if one waits several years.
“If there are no more Catholic princes”, Veuillot concluded, when once troubled by news of betrayal in the Spanish Carlist camp, “what concern to us are princes!” (67)

The same statements could be made with regard to republican or democratic forms as well. Place a Garcia Moreno, the Catholic Ecuadorian leader, at the head of a republic, and traditions could easily be reconciled with modern developments: (68)

There is the conspicuous and supreme feature that places him beyond comparison: a man of Jesus Christ in the public life, a man of God! A little southern republic has shown us this marvel: a man sufficiently noble, sufficiently strong, and sufficiently intelligent to persevere in the design of being what one calls a ‘man of his times’, of studying its sciences, accepting its ways, knowing and following its customs and its laws, and nevertheless not ceasing to be a correct and faithful man of the Gospel; that is to say, a correct and faithful servant of God. Moreover, making his people the same thing when he took control of it; a people correct and faithful in the service of God for all peoples of the earth.

Let democracy be the expression of a Catholic desire to raise the people to their Christian goal of divinization; let democratic rulers respect the Catholic order and permit possible penetration by the Catholic spirit. If this were done, then a system that appeared to be fated to dominate Europe could contribute to that continent’s glory. If it were not, then a terrible fate lay in store for the Old World: (69)
Let the democrats be good, just, fearful of God: Democracy is the most beautiful government men can give themselves. Let the democrats be wicked, proud, impious: the society that they will form will only differ from hell in hell’s being eternal. This can be said of all the schemes tried among men to reconcile the necessary rights of governors and the inalienable right of the governed. They have been good or evil insofar as the one group or the other have had more or less the feeling of their reciprocal duties.

We have said it and we repeat it: a new era begins, fruit of the long revolutions which have troubled us. Democracy arises and the Church is there, like the mother around the cradle. She protects this infant which has so many enemies, she tries to enlighten this prince which has so many flatterers. Harsh and dangerous education no doubt! But the Church has made others, she has disciplined illegitimates as savage, she has tenderly served and faithfully loved more ungrateful pupils. Will she succeed nevertheless? God knows! If she does not, one trembles to contemplate the future of the world. What will become of these peoples corrupted by independence and each day more rebellious to all authority? What to expect of these unrestrained desires, these mad ambitions, these greedy passions, if not infinite miseries of an anarchy without end, of a despotism without chains, of a war without respite?

In the non-Catholic democracy, “the art of governing reduces to the art of killing”. (70) One finds in it “slaves expert in manufacturing masters for themselves, but who do not know how to nor want to destroy slavery”. (71)

Veuillot complained of the failure of the editors of l’Ere Nouvelle, proponents of “openness” towards the Revolution, to distinguish between prudential and theoretical acceptance of certain of its fruits. He noted the journal’s use of the word democracy as a talisman as it tried to convince Catholics that the “will of the People” could never harm them. L’Ere Nouvelle ignored the crucial fact that democracy meant differing things to different people: (72)

Alas! If one at least told us with what kind of democracy Catholicism must reconcile itself! Since, as we have noted, democracy is not one thing, one party, but a word; a deceptive word under which takes refuge and are torn apart one hundred diverse programs, one hundred different parties, all irreconcilable enemies of one another.
It then made compromises which seemed only to involve Catholic concessions: (73)
Does one discuss? It agrees with us on the facts, the doctrines, the final ends. At least it does not indicate others. And, nevertheless, it concludes in such a way that all Catholics are astonished or are grieved, while their enemies cry ‘bravo’. It has a way of criticizing the revolution which does not make it loose the friendship of the warmest of revolutionaries at all.
Finally, it became clear that, rather than the enemy, it was l’Ere Nouvelle which had altered its convictions, assuming that democracy and democracy alone could deal with mankind’s “new needs”: (74)
“What! New needs! For new needs, one requires new dogmas! Therefore, the supposed Christian revelation is not complete! Humanity has marched and Christianity remains stationary. Thus, Christianity is not divine! Democracy responds to the new needs of the world: thus true Christianity is democracy. Here is their argument. Why not cut short this dialectic in saying to them {the revolutionaries} immediately that the new need of humanity is simply putting into practice faith, hope, and charity?
The Catholic Party, Veuillot concluded at that time, “has not worked twenty years to extirpate monarchical idolatry to seed it anew; it will not any more seed that other idolatry, no less dangerous and degrading, that one has justly called the democratic idolatry”. (75)

The second case involved the Comte de Montalembert and the editors and contributors to the journal Le Correspondant. Allies of l’Univers until the ascendancy of Napoleon III, they became the symbols of Liberal Catholicism to the intransigents. Veuillot complained that Montalembert refused to allow any discussion of the question of the validity of cooperation with revolutionaries and revolutionary institutions. Acceptance of the English parliamentary system, Montalembert’s El Dorado, was, Veuillot lamented, axiomatic. “He made a crime of simple disagreement of opinion”, the editor of l’Univers noted, “or even in remaining in an opinion that he had shared and sometimes imposed”. (76) Veuillot’s allies, like the Jesuits of La Civiltà Cattolica, who had regretted Montalembert’s refusal even to read the critiques which they had sent to him with almost servile apologies, echoed the same refrain. (77) By definition, Veuillot’s camp was attacked as being subjective, uncharitable, and in error. (78) The result of this liberal intransigence, Veuillot concluded, was the gradual transformation of the earlier prudential use by the Catholic Party of modern freedoms into an unqualified affirmation of them: (79)

We said that the Church had a right to the same liberties as everybody, not that everybody had a right to the same liberties as the Church; that all the liberties that we demanded were of natural law and of divine law, good, necessary, legitimate, holy, not that all liberties that were demanded had the same character, the same title, and had to be decreed. Never was our liberty that of the liberals, still less that of the democrats, and never were they unaware of this. Whatever the danger of chilling their friendship, when accidentally and for a moment they were allies; whatever the danger of irritating them as enemies, we—M. de Montalembert and the rest of us—thought that the peril would be infinitely greater accepting or tolerating a single one of their errors. Our conscience demanded this, the interest of our party demanded this. The right tactic for us is to be visibly and always what we are, nothing more, nothing less. We defend a citadel which cannot be taken except when the garrison itself brings in the enemy. Combating with our own arms, we only receive minor wounds. All borrowed armor troubles us and often chokes us.
Veuillot was always sobered by what he thought to be contemporary Europe’s singular incapacity to merit the glory entailed by a Catholic restoration of the social order. Any society that had known and confessed the living God, and then abandoned Him for trivial rewards, had to offer unpropitious prospects for the forces of renewal. “Society feels itself to be dying”, he wrote, and it “feels itself to be ridiculous”. (80) Moreover, Europe was ill-served by her leaders. She was “a tragedy represented by mediocre comic actors”. (81) These men demonstrated themselves to be bewildered by the appearance of each new—though readily predictable—revolutionary outburst. Their international cooperation was limited to meeting together periodically “to confirm their impotence, and, much more, their scarcely unconscious complicity” in the face of radicalism. (82)

Europe merited chastisement from non-western peoples. Her divine mission, for which she had been amply supplied with material blessings, was “to carry light everywhere, dissolve chains, awaken peoples sleeping in the shadow of death”. (83) Instead of fulfilling these functions, she was responsible for ruining native cultures and replacing them with a sterile, materialistic civilization, all body and no soul. Could one not expect that the technology used to expand European power might be turned against the center of Machinedom, so that the rest of the world would come to seek in the old continent itself that which it had refused to share? “The paths are made, the frontiers are pierced, it will come”. (84)

Veuillot’s sense of the demonic character of modernity ultimately convinced him that reason was not to be the weapon fit to deliver the mortal blow to the Revolution. Reason had already been murdered by it in its rise to power: (85)

…{F}erocious pride is correctly the genius of the Revolution; it has established a control in the world which pleases reason out of the struggle. It has a horror of reason, it gags it, it hunts it, and if it can kill it, it kills it. Prove to it the divinity of Christianity, its intellectual and philosophical reality, its historical reality, its moral and social reality: it wants none of it. That is its reason, and it is the strongest. It has placed a blindfold of impenetrable sophisms on the face of European civilization. It cannot see the heavens, nor hear the thunder.
If the Revolution were ever to be defeated at all, then, unless there were “a miracle, incomparable among all those which the world has seen since the establishment of Christianity”, this defeat and the subsequent restoration would have to be completed “in those forges of the night that one calls social chaos”. (86) Under these circumstances, only two types of leaders would be suitable for guiding the population back to glory, for loosening the revolutionary blindfold. One of these was poets, who, by disdaining the spirit of the times and cultivating order in the form of art, might kindle the flame of truth in dead souls. (87) More importantly, however, “that blindfold will only be pulled off by the mutilated hands of martyrs”. (88)

(1) R. Aubert, Le pontificat de Pie IX (Histoire de l’église, xxi, 1952), 108-113, 130-131, 224-236.

(2) G. Spadolini, “L’intransigentismo cattolico: dalla Civiltà Cattolica al Sillabo”, Rassegna storica toscana, iv, iii-iv (July-December, 1958), passim; G. Krueger, “Der Mainzer Kreis und die Katholische Bewegung”, Preussische Jahrbücher, cxlviii, iii (June, 1912), 395-414.

(3) L. Veuillot, Mélanges (Oeuvres complete, iii series, 1933), i, xiii.

(4) F. Veuillot, Louis Veuillot (Paris, 1913), passim.

(5) Ibid., p. 6.

(6) L. Veuillot, i, 537.

(7) Ibid., v, 358.

(8) Ibid., vi, 149-166; vii, 124-129, 367-373; ix, 300-302; xi, 19-21.

(9) Ibid., xiv, 4-15; v, 144-151.

(10) Ibid., x, 216-218.

(11) Ibid.

(12) See, for example, “La passione di Gesù Cristo nella sua chiesa”, La Civiltà Cattolica, vi, ii (1865), 39-57.

(13) L. Veuillot, xi, 120-121.

(14) Ibid., xiii, 176.

(15) Ibid., i, 334; Also, iii, 304.

(16) Ibid., xiii, 447-455; xi, 143-148.

(17) Ibid., vi, 310-325; viii, 562-565.

(18) Ibid., xii, 359.

(19) Ibid., xiii, 448.

(20) Ibid., xi, 337.

(21) Ibid., xiii, 448.

(22) Ibid., xii, 401.

(23) Ibid., i, 327.

(24) Ibid., xii, 401.

(25) Ibid., iv, 2-3; Also, xii, 416-420.

(26) Ibid., v, 186-187.

(27) Ibid., ii, 350 (short quotation); xii, 360-361 (extended quotation).

(28) Ibid., xi, 333.

(29) Ibid.

(30) Ibid.

(31) Ibid., xi, 34; xii, 359-360.

(32) Ibid., v, 410-419; vi, 44-68; viii, 271-279; xi, 114-122, 143-148; xii, 333-335; xiii, 15-18, 95-97; xiv, 80-84.

(33) Ibid., vii, 169; v, 17.

(34) Ibid., iii, 206-210, 383-390; v, 420-439; ix, 365-371; vii, 161-173; xii, 277-280; xiv, 132-135.

(35) Ibid., ix, 384; Also, xiv, 298-302.

(36) Ibid., i, 163-166.

(37) Ibid., iii, 306.

(38) Ibid., iii, 164.

(39) Ibid., v, 339-340.

(40) Ibid., xi, 333; v, 497.

(41) Ibid., v, 497.

(42) Ibid., iv, 362.

(43) Ibid., v, 339-340.

(44) Ibid., vii, 131; Also, v, 280-295; xiv, 298-302.

(45) Ibid., vii, 153; Also, vii, 161-173; vi, 440-450.

(46) Ibid., ix, 504-512.

(47) Ibid., xii, 293.

(48) Ibid., v, 331.

(49) Ibid., iii, 304; iv, 345-352.

(50) Ibid., viii, 366-367.

(51) Ibid., 364.

(52) Ibid.

(53) Ibid., 369.

(54) Ibid.

(55) Ibid., vi, 435; Also, ix, 483-503; vi, 367-373.

(56) L. Dimier, Les mâitres de la contre-revolution au dix-neuvième siècle (Paris, 1917), 287-288.

(57) L. Veuillot, i, 459 (1st quotation); 462 (1st extended quotation); vi, 372 (2nd extended quotation); Also, i, 427-430; v, 168-261; i, 529-541.

(58) Ibid., i, 538.

(59) Ibid., i, 459.

(60) Ibid., xii, 236; Also, xii, 399-402, 445-448; xi, 497-499; xiii, 424-433.

(61) Ibid., i, 429.

(62) Ibid., ii, 7-11.

(63) Ibid., iii, 381.

(64) Ibid., i, 429; Also, iv, 272-275; v, 493-502.

(65) Ibid., iii, 374; Also, x, 454-460; xiii, 15-18; xii, 413-415.

(66) Ibid., iv, 314; Also, v, 15-22; iv, 353-363.

(67) Ibid., x, 44.

(68) Ibid. xiii, 189.

(69) Ibid., iii, 374 (1st quotation); ii, 353 (2nd quotation); Also, iii, 197-201; I, 246-250.

(70) Ibid., xiv, 322.

(71) Ibid., xi, 116.

(72) Ibid., iii, 379-380.

(73) Ibid., iii, 459.

(74) Ibid., iii, 382-383; Also, iii, 161-165.

(75) Ibid., iii, 424.

(76) Ibid., xi, 423.

(77) J.C. Rao, La Civiltà Cattolica as a Background for Understanding Quanta Cura and the Syllabus of Errors (Unpublished Doctoral Dissertation, Oxford, 1977), pp. 120-127.

(78) Ibid.

(79) L. Veuillot, v, 276; Also, vii, 266-293; iii, 564-568; iv, 370-376.

(80) Ibid., xi, 337.

(81) Ibid., 336.

(82) Ibid., 337.

(83) Ibid., 339-340.

(84) Ibid.

(85) Ibid., x, 45-46.

(86) Ibid., xi, 338-339.

(87) Ibid., vii, 469.

(88) Ibid. x, 45-46; Also, viii, 571-576; xii, 333-335; xiv, 80-84.

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