Something more drastic appeared to be necessary-- some bold and
striking measure which should concentrate the forces of the
faithful, and confound their enemies. The tremendous doctrine of
Papal Infallibility, beloved of all good Catholics, seemed to
offer just the opening that was required. Let that doctrine be
proclaimed, with the assent of the whole Church, an article of
faith, and, in the face of such an affirmation, let the modern
world do its worst! Accordingly, a General Council-- the first to
be held since the Council of Trent more than 300 years before--
was summoned to the Vatican, for the purpose, so it was
announced, of providing 'an adequate remedy to the disorders,
intellectual and moral, of Christendom'. The programme might seem
a large one, even for a General Council; but everyone knew what
it meant.

Everyone, however, was not quite of one mind. There were those
to whom even the mysteries of infallibility caused some
searchings of heart. It was true, no doubt, that Our Lord, by
saying to Peter, 'Thou art Cephas, which is by interpretation a
stone', thereby endowed that Apostle with the supreme and full
primacy and principality over the Universal Catholic Church; it
was equally certain that Peter afterwards became the Bishop of
Rome; nor could it be doubted that the Roman Pontiff was his
successor. Thus it followed directly that the Roman Pontiff was
the head, heart, mind, and tongue of the Catholic Church; and
moreover, it was plain that when Our Lord prayed for Peter that
his faith should not fail, that prayer implied the doctrine of
Papal Infallibility. All these things were obvious, and yet--and
yet-- might not the formal declaration of such truths in the year
of his grace 1870 be, to say the least of it, inopportune? Might