Pius IX. finds that he can undertake what he likes with a majority so absolutely devoted to him and simply at his beck. The assurance, so often reiterated not long ago, that nothing was meant to be decreed which could disturb Governments or introduce conflicts between Church and State, seems to be already forgotten or held superfluous, and a number of Bishops, at a general audience, heard, not without consternation, from the mouth of the highest authority, the statement that the Syllabus must be made dogmatic: it would be better to yield in other points than give that up. Meanwhile the Opposition grows visibly stronger, and men like Darboy, Dupanloup, and MacHale, Archbishop of Tuam,(20) are not to be despised as leaders. They are not content with getting rid of Infallibility and the Syllabus, but strive for some freedom in the Council, and here they find sympathy even among the Infallibilists. For to have their hands so completely tied by the Pope’s regulations, has surpassed all, even the worst, anticipations of the Bishops. That first gleam of hope, excited by the announcement that the Bishops would be allowed to propose motions, has speedily vanished. For it has become clear that this was merely intended to save the Pope from having to propose his own Infallibility to the Council, and provide for the motion emanating from the Bishops—according to the present plan, the Spanish Bishops. The right of initiation is rendered purely illusory by the fact that the Pope has reserved to himself and the Commission he has named, composed of the stanchest Infallibilists, the sanction or rejection of every motion. To this must be added the regulations for the order of business, and the naming by the Pope of all the officials of the Council, as well as the scrutators and presidents of Congregations or Commissions. This is an act of arbitrary power, and a gagging of the Council, far beyond anything attempted even at Trent. Yet at Trent the want of freedom was felt to be so great that for 300 years the Catholic world has manifested no desire to repeat the experiment of a Council. But what will be the impression made by the present Council, where the order of business is so managed as to make any serious discussion impossible? The strongest expressions of discontent come from the French Prelates, they feel how undignified, not to say ridiculous, is the _rôle_ assigned to them,—of saying _Placet_ to ready-made decrees—even more keenly than the Germans, who are also greatly disgusted. Attempts to protest against this oppressive code in the Congregation were suppressed by the declaration of the President, Cardinal de Luca, that the Pope had so ordained, and no discussion could be allowed on the subject. He would allow neither the courageous Bishop Strossmayer nor Archbishop Darboy to say a word on these intolerable restrictions. The whole scene made a profound impression.