here declared are modern: that Ultramontanism, as it is called, is a novel opinion, and that its rise is to be ascribed to 'the vulgar ambition of ruling as a despot over willing slaves,' to 'bureaucratic despotism with a well-drilled episcopal police,' to 'the Tarquinian policy of cutting down all the taller poppyheads,' to 'watchful jealousy and incessant petty persecution on the part of the Curia.'
We are told that 'the first epoch of Ultramontanism commenced with the Council of Constance, and closed with the Council of Trent;' that, unfortunately, the counsels of Pole and Contarini were not followed, and that but for their failure 'the Teutonic element would have conquered for itself its natural place and recognition in the development of the Catholic Church.' The Catholic Church, we are told, became 'the Latin Church,' which lost the Teutonic element by confirming its despotic grasp upon the Latin. The great error, we are taught, was committed by a General Council. The Council of Constance 'put the cart before the horse': or, as we should say, it determined the election of the Pope; and then, instead of ruling him and teaching him, it submitted to him as the Vicar of Christ. The main principle of Ultramontanism, therefore, was distinctly recognised and put in act by the Council of Constance. Does any one imagine that in this the Council of Constance differs from the Councils of Chalcedon or of Trent, or that its acts embody any other principles than those of the universal tradition of Christianity—namely, the supreme
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