t rust, which must be allowed
something to act upon, and which in independent action is bound to rush
into a variety of differences according to the bent of the individual
mind. However, to answer thus merely opens up a multitude of questions,
and launches one into a sea of chaos, across which he will have to sail
without chart or compass. Accordingly, I usually answer that these
various utterances of individuals and provincial bodies are not
infallible; that the only utterance absolutely binding on the conscience
of the Catholic is that of a general council with the Pope at its head,
or that of the Pope speaking _ex cathedra_; and that all the other acts
of men or bodies, high or low, are subject in their degrees to human
infirmity, though we are to receive them with respect and judicious
obedience, and that at most they are but temporary in time and limited
in space.

No idea could be more extravagant or more unjust than that usually
entertained by Protestants on our doctrine of the Pope's infallibility.

They imagine that a Catholic dares not utter a word upon any subject
until the Pope has spoken. Or, if they advance beyond this, that he
dares not say anything about religion except what comes direct from
Rome. Or, if they can stretch their imagination to realize that the Pope
speaks only after discussion, that we must look to have our every word
snatched at, and a damper put upon us, before we have well begun. This
last is the central objection of intelligent Protestants, who know well
that it will never do to fly in the face of facts like their more
ignorant neighbors. They have taken the trouble to examine the
definition of the dogma; and it cannot be denied that to their minds it
does bear this sense. Any one familiar with the minute despotism of
those thousand little Protestant Popes, the reverend offspring of the
"Reformation," would see at once what a charter such authority would put
in the hands of a set of Chadbands only too eager to use it. Enlightened
Protestants have begun to feel the burden of this one idea,
dead-dragging officialism, and to kick against it. They are probably
religious men, by which I mean men with devout minds, who earnestly feel
the need of belief. They become inquirers, run through the sects nearest
at hand, and finally come before the Church and gaze upon her. Written
on her front they see "Infallibility." Here lies their stumbling-block.
They begin to question. Arguments are exhaus