Though a relatively short volume, only highly seasoned theologians are likely to read this without having to do some background research. Most Irish readers will be broadly familiar with the position of Catholics in relation to the English government in the nineteenth century, and will therefore find Cardinal Newman’s point-by-point refutation of Gladstone understandable. What presents the real challenge is the way Newman casually refers to incidents in Church history while appearing to assume that his readers are already intimately familiar with them.
One particularly dense paragraph, used by Newman for the purposes of comparison, sent me off on a substantial research tangent. The passage assumes profound familiarity with one of the major Christological controversies of the fifth century, beginning with the condemnation of Nestorianism at the First Council of Ephesus (431). Nestorianism involved a belief in an excessively sharp division between Christ’s divinity and humanity. Its opposite error, Monophysitism, flourished in reaction to this condemnation and held that Christ possessed only one nature after the Incarnation.
The Second Council of Ephesus (449) was later convened to address the Monophysite controversy. It subsequently became known as the 'Robber Council' because of the coercive and disorderly manner in which proceedings were conducted. Opponents were shouted down, intimidation and violence were employed, and St. Flavian of Constantinople was physically assaulted and later died from his injuries. The Monophysites also refused to allow Pope Leo I’s doctrinal letter to be read aloud. The eventual correction came at the Council of Chalcedon (451), where Pope Leo’s intervention helped clarify that Christ is one person in two natures, divine and human, 'without confusion, change, division, or separation.'
Newman’s writing is suffused with such deep historical knowledge that passages like this are far from unusual in so short a work. His prose is nuanced, layered, elegant, and at times gently sarcastic as he systematically dismantles what he regards as Gladstone’s public panic-mongering and misinformation concerning the declarations of the First Vatican Council.
One motivating factor behind Newman’s response was a private letter he wrote to his bishop in 1870 expressing concerns about the controversies surrounding papal infallibility, a letter that was later leaked to the public. This leak was an event Newman found deeply disturbing. In the letter, he used unusually strong language about the ultramontane faction advocating for the definition of papal infallibility, most famously referring to it as 'an insolent and aggressive faction.' Historically, the leak appears to have occurred indirectly through episcopal circulation: Bishop Ullathorne showed the letter to other bishops, and somewhere along that chain copies were made and portions found their way into the press. Newman himself never fully discovered how the leak occurred.
The controversy has an unexpectedly modern quality. Private correspondence is leaked, partial quotations are weaponized out of context, and a media storm follows. Newman’s frustration throughout the pamphlet stems partly from the fact that, while the original recipient understood the context of the letter, the wider public did not. The letter had never been intended as a public manifesto, yet it exposed private episcopal counsel to partisan interpretation. Newman valued private candour, but he was also acutely conscious of the responsibilities of public rhetoric. One can only begin to imagine how Newman would view a world in which social media soundbites play a pivotal role in shaping public opinion.
My initial purpose in reading this short work was not to disappear down historical research tangents; I simply wanted a clearer understanding of Newman’s conception of conscience. In practice, however, one can only fully appreciate his arguments by understanding the controversies to which he constantly alludes. Realistically, only Newman scholars, seasoned theologians, and readers with substantial historical or theological background will move through this text without pausing frequently to peel back the onion layers of Newman’s extraordinarily textured and learned prose. That said, perhaps it's fitting that the most recently declared Doctor of the Church demands sustained attention from his readers.