Eminent Victorians - Lytton Strachey (essential books to read TXT) 📗

was concerned, it so fell out that Monsignor Talbot needed no prompting. During the sensation caused by the appearance of the Apologia, it had occurred to him that it would be an excellent plan to secure Newman as a preacher during Lent for the fashionable congregation which attended his church in the Piazza del Popolo; and, he had accordingly written to invite him to Rome. His letter was unfortunately not a tactful one. He assured Newman that he would find in the Piazza del Popolo “an audience of Protestants more educated than could ever be the case in England,” and “I think myself,” he had added by way of extra inducement, “that you will derive great benefit from visiting Rome, and showing yourself to the Ecclesiastical Authorities.” Newman smiled grimly at this; he declared to a friend that the letter was “insolent”; and he could not resist the temptation of using his sharp pen.

“Dear Monsignor Talbot,” he wrote in reply, “I have received your letter, inviting me to preach in your Church at Rome to an audience of Protestants more educated than could ever be the case in England.

“However, Birmingham people have souls; and I have neither taste nor talent for the sort of work which you cut out for me. And I beg to decline your offer.

I am, yours truly,

John H. Newman.”

Such words were not the words of wisdom. It is easy to imagine the feelings of Monsignor Talbot. “Newman’s work none here can understand,” he burst out to his friend. “Poor man, by living almost ever since he has been a Catholic, surrounded by a set of inferior men who idolise him, I do not think he has ever acquired the Catholic instincts.” As for his views on the Temporal Power⁠—“well, people said that he had actually sent a subscription to Garibaldi. Yes, the man was incomprehensible, heretical, dangerous; he was ‘uncatholic and unchristian.’ ” Monsignor Talbot even trembled for the position of Manning in England.

“I am afraid that the old school of Catholics will rally round Newman in opposition to you and Rome. Stand firm, do not yield a bit in the line you have taken. As I have promised, I shall stand by you. You will have battles to fight because every Englishman is naturally anti-Roman. To be Roman is to an Englishman an effort. Dr. Newman is more English than the English. His spirit must be crushed.”

His spirit must be crushed! Certainly there could be no doubt of that.

“What you write about Dr. Newman,” Manning replied, “is true. Whether he knows it or not, he has become the centre of those who hold low views about the Holy See, are anti-Roman, cold and silent, to say no more, about the Temporal Power; national, English, critical of Catholic devotions, and always on the lower side.⁠ ⁠… You will take care,” he concluded, “that things are correctly known and understood where you are.”

The confederates matured their plans. While Newman was making his arrangements for the Oxford Oratory, Cardinal Reisach visited London. “Cardinal Reisach has just left,” wrote Manning to Monsignor Talbot: “he has seen and understands all that is going on in England.” But Newman had no suspicions. It was true that persistent rumours of his unorthodoxy and his anti-Roman leanings had begun to float about, and these rumours had been traced to Rome. But what were rumours? Then, too, Newman found out that Cardinal Reisach had been to Oxford without his knowledge, and had inspected the land for the Oratory. That seemed odd; but all doubts were set at rest by the arrival from Propaganda of an official ratification of his scheme. There would be nothing but plain sailing now. Newman was almost happy; radiant visions came into his mind of a wonderful future in Oxford, the gradual growth of Catholic principles, the decay of liberalism, the inauguration of a second Oxford Movement, the conversion⁠—who knows?⁠—of Mark Pattison, the triumph of the Church.⁠ ⁠… “Earlier failures do not matter now,” he exclaimed to a friend. “I see that I have been reserved by God for this.”

Just then a long blue envelope was brought into the room. Newman opened it. “All is over,” he said, “I am not allowed to go.” The envelope contained a letter from the Bishop announcing that, together with the formal permission for an Oratory at Oxford, Propaganda had issued a secret instruction to the effect that Newman himself was by no means to reside there. If he showed signs of doing so, he was blandly and suavely (“blande suaviterque” were the words of the Latin instrument) to be prevented. And now the secret instruction had come into operation⁠—blande suaviterque: Dr. Newman’s spirit had been crushed.

His friends made some gallant efforts to retrieve the situation; but, it was in vain. Father St. John hurried to Rome and the indignant laity of England, headed by Lord Edward Howard, the guardian of the young Duke of Norfolk, seized the opportunity of a particularly virulent anonymous attack upon Newman, to send him an address in which they expressed their feeling that “every blow that touches you inflicts a wound upon the Catholic Church in this country.” The only result was an outburst of redoubled fury upon the part of Monsignor Talbot. The address, he declared, was an insult to the Holy See. “What is the province of the laity?” he interjected. “To hunt, to shoot, to entertain. These matters they understand, but to meddle with ecclesiastical matters they have no right at all.” Once more he warned Manning to be careful.

“Dr. Newman is the most dangerous man in England, and you will see that he will make use of the laity against your Grace. You must not be afraid of him. It will require much prudence, but you must be firm. The Holy Father still places his confidence in you; but if you yield and do not fight the battle of the Holy See against the detestable spirit growing up in England, he will begin to