EXTRAORDINARY PHENOMENON IN THE CATHOLIC CHURCH.
The proposition contained in the concluding lines of the last
chapter suggests a corollary, which, if I am not mistaken, offers
a new demonstration of the divine origin of the Catholic Church.
Her existence for eighteen centuries, in spite of so many powerful
adversaries, has always been regarded as a most extraordinary thing.
Another prodigy, too little attended to, and of not less importance
when the nature of the human mind is taken into account, is, _the unity
of the Church's doctrines, pervading, as it does, all her various
instructions, and the number of great minds which this unity has always
enclosed within her bosom_.
I particularly call the attention of all thinking men to this point;
and although I cannot hope to develop this idea in a suitable manner,
I am sure they will find in it matter for very serious reflection.
This method of considering the Church may perhaps recommend itself to
the taste of some readers on another account, viz. because I shall lay
aside Revelation, in order to consider Catholicity, not as a Divine
religion, but as a school of philosophy.
No one who has studied the history of letters can deny that the Church
has, in all ages, possessed men illustrious for science. The history of
the Fathers of the first ages of the Church is nothing but the history
of the most learned men in Europe, in Africa, and in Asia; the list
of learned men who preserved, after the irruption of the Barbarians,
some remains of ancient knowledge, is composed of churchmen. In modern
times you cannot point out a branch of human knowledge, in which a
considerable number of Catholics have not figured in the first rank.
Thus there has been, for eighteen hundred years, an uninterrupted
chain of learned men, who were Catholics, that is, men united in the
profession of the doctrines taught by the Catholic Church. Let us
lay aside for a moment the divine characteristics of Catholicity, to
consider it only as a school or sect; I say, that in the fact which I
have pointed out, we find a phenomenon so extraordinary, that its equal
cannot be found elsewhere, and that no effort of reason can explain it,
according to the natural order of human things.
It is certainly not new in the history of the human mind for a
doctrine, more or less reasonable, to be professed for a time by a
certain number of learned and enlightened men; this has been shown
in schools of philosophy both ancient and modern. But for a creed to
maintain itself for many ages, by preserving the adhesion of men of
learning of all times and of all countries--of minds differing among
themselves on other points--of men opposed in interests and divided by
rivalries, is a phenomenon new, unique, and not to be found anywhere
but in the Catholic Church. It always has been, and still is, the
practice of the Church, while one in faith and doctrine, to teach
unceasingly--to excite discussion on all subjects--to promote the study
and examination of the foundations on which faith itself reposes--to
scrutinize for this purpose the ancient languages, the monuments of the
remotest times, the documents of history, the discoveries of scientific
observation, the lessons of the highest and most analytic sciences, and
to present herself with a generous confidence in the great lyceums,
where men replete with talents and knowledge concentrate, as in a
focus, all that they have learned from their predecessors, and all that
they themselves have collected: and nevertheless we see her always
persevere with firmness in her faith and in the unity of her doctrines;
we see her always surrounded by illustrious men, who, with their
brows crowned with the laurels of a hundred literary contests, humble
themselves, tranquil and serene, before her, without fear of dimming
the brightness of the glory which surrounds their heads.
We ask those who see in Catholicity only one of the innumerable
sects by which the earth has been covered, to point out elsewhere a
similar fact; to explain to us how the Church has been able to show
us a phenomenon, constantly existing, so opposed to the ever-varying
spirit of the human mind; let them tell us by what secret talisman
the Sovereign Pontiffs have been able to do what other men have found
impossible. Those men, who bowed their heads at the command of the
Vatican, who have laid aside their own opinions to adopt those of a
man called the Pope, were not simple and ignorant men. Look at them
attentively; you will see in the boldness of their mien their knowledge
of their own intellectual power; you will read in their bright and
penetrating eyes the flame of genius which burns in their breasts. They
are the same men who have filled the highest places in the academies
of Europe; who have spread their fame over the world, and whose names
have been handed down to future generations. Examine the history of all
ages, search all the countries of the world, and if you find anywhere
such an extraordinary combination of knowledge in union with faith, of
genius in submission to authority, and of discussion without breach
of unity, you will have made an important discovery, and science will
have to explain a new phenomenon. But you know well that you cannot
do so. This is the reason why you have recourse to new stratagems in
order to cast a shade on the brightness of this fact; for you feel that
impartial reason and common sense must draw from it the conclusion that
there is in the Catholic Church something which is not to be found
elsewhere.
These facts, say our adversaries, are certain; the reflections which
they suggest are dazzling at first sight; but if we examine the subject
thoroughly, we shall see the difficulties they raise disappear. This
phenomenon, which we have seen realized in the Catholic Church, and
which is not found elsewhere, only proves that there has always been
in the Church a fixed system, which has been developed with uniform
regularity. The Church knew that union is the source of strength; that
union cannot exist without unity of doctrine; and that unity cannot
be preserved without submission to authority. This simple observation
established, and constantly maintained, the principle of submission.
Such is the explanation of the phenomenon. The idea, we grant, is
profoundly wise, the scheme is grand, the system is extraordinary;
but they do not prove any thing in favor of the Divine origin of
Catholicism.
This is the best reply which they can make; it is easy to show that
the difficulty remains entire. Indeed, if it be true that there has
existed a society on earth which has been for eighteen centuries guided
by one fixed and constant principle--a society which has known how
to bind to this principle eminent men of all ages and countries, the
following questions must be asked of our adversaries:--Why has the
Church alone possessed this principle, and monopolized this idea? If
other sects have been in possession of it, why have they not acted on
it? All the philosophic sects have disappeared, one after another; the
Church alone remains. Other religions, in order to preserve some sort
of unity, have been compelled to shun the light, to avoid discussion,
to hide themselves in the thickest shades. Why has the Church preserved
her unity while seeking the light, while publishing her books in open
day, while lavishing all sorts of instruction, and founding everywhere
colleges, universities, and establishments of every description, where
all the splendor of knowledge and erudition has been concentrated?
It is not enough to say that there was a plan--a system; the difficulty
lies in the existence of this plan and this system; it consists in
explaining how they were conceived and executed. If we had to do with
a small number of men, in limited circumstances, times, and countries,
for the execution of a limited project, there would be nothing
extraordinary; but we have to do with a period of eighteen hundred
years, with all the countries of the world, with circumstances the
most varied, the most different, and the most opposed to each other;
we have to do with a multitude of men who did not meet together, or
act in concert. How is all this to be explained? If it were a plan and
a system devised by man, we should ask, What was the mysterious power
of Rome which enabled her to unite around her so many illustrious men
of all times and of all countries? How did the Roman Pontiff, if he be
only the chief of a sect, manage to fascinate the world to this extent?
What magician ever did such wonders? Men have long declaimed against
his religious despotism; why has no one been found to wrest the sceptre
from his grasp? why has not a pontifical throne been raised capable of
disputing the pre-eminence with his, and of maintaining itself with
equal splendor and power? Shall we attribute it to his temporal power?
This power is very limited. Rome was not able to contend in arms with
any of the other European powers. Shall we attribute it to the peculiar
character, to the knowledge or the virtues of the men who have occupied
the Papal throne? There has been, during these eighteen hundred years,
an infinite variety in the characters and in the talents and virtues of
the Popes. For those who are not Catholics, who do not see in the Roman
Pontiff the vicar of Jesus Christ,--the rock on which He has built His
Church,--the duration of this authority must be the most extraordinary
phenomenon; and it is certainly one of the questions most worthy of
being examined by the science which devotes itself to the history of
the human mind; how there existed for many centuries an uninterrupted
series of learned men, always faithful to the doctrines of the Roman
See?
M. Guizot himself, in comparing Protestantism with the Roman Church,
seems to have felt the force of this truth; and its light appears to
have made him confused in his remarks. Let us listen again to this
writer, whose talents and renown have dazzled, on this point, so
many readers, who do not examine the solidity of proofs when they
are clothed in brilliant images, and who applaud all kinds of ideas
when they are conveyed to them in a torrent of enchanting eloquence;
men who, pretending to intellectual independence, subscribe, without
inquiry, to the decisions of the leaders of their school; who receive
their doctrines with submission, and dare not even raise their heads to
ask for the titles of their authority. M. Guizot, like all the great
men among Protestants, was aware of the immense void which exists amid
its various sects, and of the force and vigour which is contained in
Catholicity; he has not been able to free himself from the rule of
great minds,--a rule which is explicitly confirmed by the writings of
the greatest men of the Reformation. After pointing out the inconstant
progress of Protestantism, and the error which it has introduced into
the organization of intellectual society, M. Guizot proceeds thus:
"People have not known how to reconcile the rights and necessities of
tradition with those of liberty; and the cause of it undoubtedly has
been, that the Reformation did not fully understand and accept either
its principles or its effects." What sort of a religion must that
be which does not fully understand and accept its principles or its
effects?
Did a more formal condemnation of the Reformation ever issue out of the
mouth of man? could any thing of the kind ever be said of the sects
of philosophers, ancient or modern? Can the Reformation, then, after
this, pretend to direct men or society? "Thence arises," continues
M. Guizot, "a certain air of inconsistency and narrowness of spirit,
which has often given advantages over it to its opponents. The latter
knew very well what they did and what they wished; they ascended to
the principles of their conduct, and avowed all their consequences.
There never was a government more consistent, more systematic than
that of the Church of Rome." But whence was the origin of a system so
consistent? When we consider the fickleness and inconstancy of the
human mind, do not this system, this consistency, and these fixed
principles, speak volumes to the philosopher and man of good sense?
We have observed those terrible elements of dissolution which have
their source in the mind of man, and which have acquired so much force
in modern society; we have seen with what fatal power they destroy
and annihilate all institutions, social, political, and religious,
without ever succeeding in making a breach in the doctrines of
Catholicity,--without altering that system, so fixed and so consistent.
Is there no conclusion to be drawn from all this in favour of
Catholicity? To say that the Church has done that which no schools, or
governments, or societies, or religions could do, is it not to confess
that she is wiser than every thing human? And does it not clearly prove
that she does not owe her origin to human thought, and that she is
derived from the bosom of the Creator? This society--formed, you say,
by men--this government, directed by men, has endured for eighteen
hundred years; it extends to all countries, it addresses the savage in
the forest, the barbarian in his tent, the civilized man in the most
populous cities; it reckons among its children the shepherd clothed
in skins, the laborer, the powerful nobleman; it makes its laws heard
alike by the simple mechanic at his work, and the man of learning in
his closet absorbed in the profoundest speculations. This government
has always had, according to M. Guizot, a full knowledge of its actions
and its wishes; it has always been consistent in its conduct. Is not
this avowal its most convincing apology, its most eloquent panegyric;
and shall it not be considered a proof that it contains within itself
something more than human?
A thousand times have I beheld this prodigy with astonishment; a
thousand times have my eyes been fixed upon that immense tree which
extends its branches from east to west, from north to south; I see
beneath its shade a multitude of different nations, and the restless
genius of man reposing in tranquillity at its feet.
In the East, at the period when this divine religion first appeared,
I see, amidst the dissolutions of all sects, the most illustrious
philosophers crowd to hear her words. In Greece, in Asia, on the banks
of the Nile, in all the countries where, a short time before, swarmed
innumerable sects, I see appear on a sudden a generation of great men,
abounding in learning, in knowledge, in eloquence, and all agreeing in
the unity of Catholic doctrine.
In the West, a multitude of barbarians throw themselves on an empire
falling to decay; a dark cloud descends upon an horizon charged with
calamities and disasters; there, in the midst of a people submerged in
the corruption of morals, and having lost even the remembrance of their
ancient grandeur, I see the only men who can be called worthy heirs of
the Roman name, seek, in the retirement of their temples, an asylum
for the austerity of their morals; it is there that they preserve,
increase, and enrich the treasure of ancient knowledge. But my
admiration reaches its height, when I observe that sublime intellect,
worthy heir of the genius of Plato, which, after having sought the
truth in all the schools, in all the sects, and with indomitable
boldness run through all human errors, feels itself subjugated by
the authority of the Church, and transforms the freethinker into the
great Bishop of Hippo. In modern times the series of great men who
shone in the times of Leo X. and Louis XIV. passes before my eyes.
I see the illustrious race still continue throughout the calamities
of the eighteenth century; and in the nineteenth I see fresh heroes,
who, after having followed error in all directions, come to hang their
trophies at the gates of the Catholic Church. What, then, is this
prodigy? Has a sect or religion like it ever before been seen? These
men study every thing, dispute on every thing, reply to every thing,
know every thing; but always agreeing in unity of doctrine, they bend
their noble and intellectual brows in respectful obedience to faith. Do
we not seem to behold another planetary system, where globes of fire
revolve in their vast orbits in the midst of immensity, always drawn
to their centre by a mysterious attraction? That central force, which
allows no aberration, takes from them nothing of their extent, or of
the grandeur of their movement; but it inundates them with light, while
giving to their motion a more majestic regularity.[6]