the fantastic celebrations which are the staple business of the It is not, however, our principal object now to discuss the of bibliographical police-that ecclesiastico-literary censorship, The constitution of that official authority in the Romish deal with a variety of matters, but it has most notoriously to investigate and to pass sentence "in causes respecting the faith, and against persons guilty of offending religion." This is, by a Bull of Benedict XIV., declared to be its principal function, but the same statute further provides that, whenever a book is denounced to the Inquisition as heretical, that congregation may either refer it for judgment to the Congregation of the Index, or may itself decide, by its own authority, on the doctrine which the book is alleged to contain. The judgment of the Inquisition, in such a case, assumes the character of a personal condemnation of the author, and forms henceforth a precedent against the doctrine ascribed to him. On the other hand, the Index merely forbids the circulation of the book, or of its current edition, while enjoining the omission or correction of certain specified passages of the book, if a new edition be published. It is the latter form of procedure, though seldom resorted to now, that has given rise to the popular name of "Index Expurgatorius," which is not, as we have already remarked, the official or the characteristic designation. It appears to belong more especially to the Congregation of the Index to ascertain whether or not any doctrine already proved to be heretical is actually expressed or implied in the book against which an information has been laid. But neither the one nor the other set of cardinals may pronounce definitively and dogmatically on any point of doctrine. That is reserved for the prerogative of the infallible Pontiff alone. It may be within the recollection of our readers that several months ago they heard of a conflict of jurisdictions between these Romish censorial authorities, which induced Cardinal De Andrea, the late Prefect of the Congregation of the Index, to resign his post. His grievance was that the Pope had taken the arbitrary and unprecedented step of overruling a formal sentence of that tribunal, and ordering it to commence a fresh deliberation on the same case, conjointly with the Holy Office of the Inquisition. The matter in question was one which the Index had twice examined, and determined twice over. It was an old charge of heterodoxy, preferred by the Archbishop of Bruges against the Professors of Theology and Philosophy in the University of Louvain. They, it seems, had taught and written that mankind in a state of nature are "incapable of attaining by their unaided reason an immediate, full, and distinct knowledge of any metaphysical or transcendental truth." For some years past the Belgian clergy had been distracted with a quarrel about the culpability of those professors who published such an opinion. In May last the Congregation of the Index, having been urged by the Archbishop to reconsider its former rejection of the charge of heresy, consulted Professor Passaglia, who was not then, as he is now, the avowed antagonist of the Papal Court, but the most cherished and admired champion of orthodoxy in the University of Rome. He advised the cardinals that the inculpated proposition was one belonging to the domain of mental philosophy, and that theology had nothing to say to it. Its authors were therefore duly acquitted by the Index; but their Jesuit accusers persuaded the Pope to set aside that judgment, and submit the cause to the Inquisition, in which their own faction prevails. Hinc illo lacrymæ. We remember that it was by a similar intrigue, a few years since, that they contrived to procure a condemnation of the works of Gioberti, adding to this iniquity the insult of mixing him up in one decree of proscription with Proudhon and Eugène Sue. On several occasions, in fact, the Congregation of the Index, badly as we must think of it, has proved a far less convenient tool of ecclesiastical despotism than its rival the Holy Office. It has sometimes happened, to the surprise of every body, that erudite theologians, deputed to examine the writings of men obnoxious to the Papal Court, whom it was sought to stigmatise as hostile to the Catholic creed, have declined to prostitute the science of divinity to purposes of political vengeance. We know that this is what took place last autumn, when, by the Pope's express desire, certain theological experts were directed, under the authority of the Index, to examine and report upon the pamphlets of Monsignor Liverani and Father Passaglia against the Pope's temporal power. They reported that, the subjects treated of in those pamphlets being wholly of a political nature, they contained nothing contrary to the faith. But the Pope, in that case as in others recently, intervened with a sort of coup-d'état, and peremptorily ordered that the writings of Liverani and Passaglia should be denounced by the Index, whose judicial and constitutional authority is thus nullified by the sic jubeo of one peevish old man—the autocrat of the Catholic Church. It must not, however, be supposed that all the literature which is brought under this ecclesiastical ban is accused of the vice of corrupt religious doctrine; since very much of it is so purely secular that one might almost wonder how or why it should ever have found its way into the Papal Index at all. But the scope of this institution is to protect the morals as well as the creed of all Christendom from being contaminated by pernicious reading of any kind whatsoever. The "Rules of the Index," which were drawn up by the Council of Trent, with the "Instructions" subsequently added by Clement VIII., and the "Constitution" which was finally decreed by Benedict XIV., reinforced or explained in some points by occasional rescripts of various dates, embody all the ordinances affecting the legal toleration of literature. All the works of every one of the "heresiarchs," treating of whatsoever matters, and all works treating of religious matters, written by any heretic, are expressly prohibited in general terms. And so are all versions of the Bible, excepting those which have been specially approved by Papal authority, as well as all writings on the adverse side in those lengthy controversies which have had their day, with respect to the Immaculate Conception of Mary, or the Augustinian dispute between the Jesuits and Jansenists, or certain other occasions, too tedious to mention, on which the Catholic Church has been divided against itself. Some of these categories of prohibition, based on the necessity of excluding particular doctrines, are oddly significant. For instance, we find it distinctly laid down as a rule, from motives sufficiently obvious, that all books in which St. Peter and St. Paul are spoken of as on a footing of equality, or as a pair of chief apostles and leaders of the Church, are to be proscribed, inasmuch as Paul ought to be kept in subordination to Peter. By another rule, all books of legal argument impugning the inalienable nature of ecclesiastical property are equally condemned. Throughout all the regulations of the Index, as of every other Papal institution, is to be observed the same vigilant solicitude for that spiritual monopoly which Italian scoffers call the "the holy shop.' With regard, however, to the principles by which the Index is directed in the prohibition of books on other than theological grounds, legislation and practice are not so clearly defined. All blasphemous and lascivious writings are forbidden, of course, though we cannot help recollecting that the filthy libeller Aretino was a cardinal's favourite buffoon. All fortune-telling books are forbidden, though, as we have stated, in the Pope's own city there is no more permitted and popular reading than the dream-book of lucky numbers in the Papal lottery. All books written in justification of the unchristian statecraft of "a tyrannical polity" are distinctly forbidden,-though such books, in the name of political unrighteousness, might apologise for Antonelli's administration. All slanderous and vituperative libels, especially against princes and persons in authority, are forbidden,-though M. Veuillot's ravings against Victor Emanuel, Cavour, and Ricasoli, are to be rewarded as laudable service by the Vicar of the Prince of Peace. It is still deemed necessary, in this enlightened age, to prohibit the curious student from peeping into an ancient treatise upon astrology or alchemy, necromancy or witchcraft, lest he should be tempted, like Doctor Faustus, to enter into a correspondence with some diabolical agents of perdition. Spirit-rapping revelations, narrated by the pitiful credulity of some English and American writers, may properly come within this censure. But liberalism |