CHAPTER VII.

POISONOUS FOOD.

"Herr Frank has not been here for four days," said Siegwart as he

returned one day from the field. "He will not come to-day, for it is

already nine o'clock. I hope the young man is not ill."

Angela started.

"Ill? May God forbid!"

"At least, I know no other reason that could prevent him from coming.

He has become a necessity to me; I seem to miss something."

Angela concealed her uneasiness in true womanly fashion. She busied

herself about the room, dusted the furniture, arranged the vases and

trimmed the flowers; but one could see that her mind was not in the

work.

"Would it not be well, father, to send and inquire after his health?"

"It would if we were certain that he was ill. I only made a

conjecture. However, if he does not come to-morrow, I will send Henry

over. We owe him this attention; he is sensible, modest, and very

intelligent. We find at present in the cities and first families few

young men of so little assumption and so much goodness and manliness."

Angela pricked her finger. She had incautiously wandered into the

thicket, as if she did not know that roses have thorns.

"Many things tell of his kind-heartedness," she replied, with averted

face. "He sends five dollars every week to the old blind woman

in Salingen; he often takes the money himself, and comforts the

unfortunate creature. The blind woman is full of enthusiasm about

him. He bought the cooper a full set of tools, that he might be able

to support his mother and seven little sisters."

"Very praiseworthy," said the father.

As Siegwart came home in the evening, Angela met him in the yard. She

carried a basket and was about to go into the garden.

"Herr Frank is not unwell," said he; "I saw him in the field and

went through the vineyard to meet him; but when he discovered my

intention, he turned about and hastened toward the house. That

surprises me."

Angela went into the garden. She stood on the bed and gazed at the

lettuce. The empty basket awaited its contents, and in it lay the

knife whose bright blade glistened before the idle dreamer. She stood

thus meditating, lost in thought for a long time, which was certainly

not her custom.

* * * * *

Herr Frank had returned from the city, and was roughly received by

the doctor.

"Have you spoken to your son?" said he sharply.

"No! I have just alighted from the carriage," answered Frank in

astonishment.

The doctor walked up and down the room, and Frank saw his face

growing darker.

"You disturb me, good friend. How is Richard?"

"Bad, very bad! And it is all your fault. You gave Richard those

materialistic books which I threw out of the window. He has read the

trash--not read, but studied it; and now we have the consequences."

"Pardon me, doctor. I did not give my son those books. He was passing

the window when you threw them out, and took them to his room."

"You knew that! Why did you leave him the miserable trash?"

"I had no idea of the danger of these writings. Explain yourself

further, I entreat."

"You must first see your son. But I bind it on your conscience to use

the greatest precaution. Do not show the least surprise. We have to

deal with a dangerous disorder. Do not say a word about his changed

appearance. Then come back to me again."

Greatly disturbed, the father passed to the room of his son. Richard

sat on the sofa gazing at the floor. His cheeks had lost their

bloom, his face was emaciated, and his eyes deeply sunken. Vogt's

_Physiological Letters_ lay open near him. He did not rise quickly

and joyfully to kiss his father, as was his custom. He remained

sitting, and smiled languidly at him. Herr Frank, grieved and

perplexed, sat down near him, and took occasion to pick up the book.

"How are you, Richard?"

"Very well, as you see."

"You are industrious. What book is this?"

"A rare book, father--a remarkable book. One learns there to know

what man is and what he is not. Until now, I did not know that cats,

dogs, monkeys, and all animals were of our race. Now I know; for it

is clearly demonstrated in that book."

"You certainly do not believe such absurdities?"

"Believe? I believe nothing at all. Faith ends where proof begins."

Herr Frank read the open page.

"All this sounds very silly," said he. "Vogt asserts that man has no

soul, and proves it from the fact that men become idiotic. If the

functions of the brain are disturbed, the soul ceases, says Vogt. He

therefore concludes that the spirit consists in the brain. The man

must have been crazy when he wrote that. I am no scholar; but I see

at the first glance how false and groundless are Vogt's inferences.

Every reasonable man knows that the brain is the instrument of the

mind, which enables it to participate in the world of sense; now,

when the instrument is destroyed, the participation of the mind with

the outward world must cease. Although a man may be an expert on the

violin, he cannot play if the strings are broken or out of tune. But

the player, his ideas, the art, still remain. In like manner the

spirit remains, although it can no longer play on the injured or

discordant fibres of the brain."

"You must read the whole book, father, and then those others there."

"But, Richard, you must not read books that rob man of all dignity."

"Of course not. I should do as the ostrich. When he is in danger,

he sticks his head into the bushes not to see the danger. A prudent

plan. But I cannot close my eyes to the light, even if that light

should destroy my human respect."

Greatly afflicted, Herr Frank returned to the doctor.

"Great God! in what a condition is my poor Richard!" said the

oppressed father.

"He will, I hope, be rescued. My stay at Frankenhöhe was to end with

the month of May; but I cannot forsake a young man whom I love, in

this helpless state of mental delirium."

"I do not understand the condition of my son; and your words give me

great anxiety. Have the goodness to tell me what is the matter with

Richard, and how it came about."

"It would be very difficult to make your son's condition clear

to you. In you there is only business, lucrative undertakings,

speculative combinations. The bustle of the money market is your

world. You have no idea of the power of an intellectual struggle.

You know the thoughtful, intellectual nature of your son; and here

I begin. In the first place, I will remind you that Richard wishes

to be governed by the power of deduction. With him fantasies and

passions retreat before this force, although usually in men of his

years, and even in men with gray hair, clearness of mind and keen

penetration are often swept away by the current of stormy passions.

Richard's aversion to women is the result of cool reflection and

inevitable inference, and therefore on this question I do not dispute

his views. I know it would be useless, and I know that the study of a

pure feminine nature would overcome this prejudice. The same force of

logical inferences places Richard in this unhappy condition. He read

the writings of the materialist. There he found the physiological

proofs that man is a beast. From these proofs Richard drew all the

terrible consequences contained in those destructive doctrines. As

the intellectual life predominates in him, and as he has a strong

repugnance to materialistic madness, his nature must be stirred in

its profoundest depths. If Richard succumbs, he will act in his

habitual consistent manner. All moral basis lost, morality would

be foolishness to him, since it is useless for beasts to curb

the passions by moral laws. As with immortality disappears man's

eternal destiny, it would be foolish to "fight the giant fight of

duty." If he is convinced that man is a beast, he will live like

a beast--although he might cloak his conduct with the varnish of

decency--and thus suddenly would the sensible Richard stand before

his astonished father a ruined man. This is one view; there is still

another," said the doctor hesitatingly. "I remember in the course

of my practice a suicide who wrote on a slip of paper, 'What do I

here? Eat, drink, sleep, worry, and fret; much suffering, little

joy; therefore--' and the man sent a bullet through his head. This

suicide thought logically. This earthly life is insupportable;

it is foolishness to a man who thinks and is at the same time a

materialist."

"What prospects--horrible!" cried Herr Frank, wringing his hands.

"Accursed be those books; and I am the cause of this misfortune!"

"The involuntary cause," said Klingenberg consolingly. "You now have

a firm conviction of the devastating effects of those bad books. But

how many are there who consider every warning in this connection an

exhibition of prejudice or narrow-mindedness! How few readers are so

modest as to admit that they want the scientific culture to refute a

bad book, to separate the poison from the honey of sweet phrases and

winning style! How few can see that they cannot read those bad books

without detriment! No one would sit on a cask of powder and touch it

off for amusement; and yet those hellish books are more dangerous

than a cask full of powder. To me this is incomprehensible. Poisonous

food is always injurious; yet thousands and millions drink greedily

from this poisonous stream of bad reading which deluges all grades of

society."

"I will do immediately what must be done," said Herr Frank as he

hastily rose.

"What will you do?"

"Take from my son those execrable books."

"By no means," said Klingenberg. "This would be a psychological

mistake. Richard would buy the same books again at the book-shop, and

read them secretly. A man who has the resolution of your son must

be won by honorable combat. Authority would here be badly applied.

Therefore I forbid you to interfere. You know nothing of the matter.

Treat him kindly, and have forbearance with his sensitiveness. That

is what I must require of you."

Greatly afflicted, Herr Frank left the doctor. Overwhelming himself

with reproaches, he wandered restlessly about the house and garden.

He saw Richard standing at the open window with folded arms, dreamy

and pale, his hair in disorder like a storm-beaten wheat-field--truly

a painful sight for the father. He went up to his room, where the

small library stood in its beautiful binding. A servant stood near

him with a basket. The works of Eugene Sue, Gutzkow, and like spirits

fell into the basket.

"All to the fire!" commanded Herr Frank.

The doctor had compared bad literature to poisonous food. The

comparison was not inapt; at least, it gave Richard the appearance of

a man in whose body destructive poison was working. He was listless

and exhausted; in walking, his hands hung heavily by his side. His

eyes were directed to the ground, as if he were seeking something.

If he saw a snail, he stopped to examine the crawling creature. He

sought to know why the snail crawls about, and, to his astonishment,

found that the snail always followed an object; which is not always

the case with man, animal of the moment, who goes about without an

object. If a caterpillar accidentally got under his foot, he pushed

it carefully aside and examined if it had been hurt. It seemed to

him logical that creeping and flying things had the same claims to

forbearance and proper treatment as man, since according to Vogt and

Büchner's striking proofs, all creeping and flying things are not

essentially different from man.

He paid particular attention to the spiders. If he came to a place

where their web was stretched, he examined attentively the artistic

texture; he saw the firmly fastened knot on the twig which held the

web apart, the circular meshes, the cunning arrangement to catch

the wandering fly. He was convinced that such a spider would be a

thousand times more intelligent than Herr Vogt and Herr Büchner, with

half as big a head as those wise naturalists. The enterprising spirit

of the ants excited not less his admiration. He always found them

busy and in a bustle, to which a market-day could not be compared.

Even London and Paris were solitary in comparison to the throng in

an ant-hill. They dragged about large pieces of wood, as also leaves

and fibres, to construct their house, which was laid out with design

and finished with much care. If he pushed his cane into the hill,

there forthwith arose a great revolution. The inhabitants rushed out

upon him, nipped him with their pincers, and showed the greatest

rage against the invader of their kingdom, while others with great

celerity placed the eggs in safety. He observed that the ants gave no

quarter, and considered every one a mortal enemy who disturbed their

state.

The young man sat on a stone and examined a snail that crawled slowly

from the wet grass. It carried a gray house on its back, and beslimed

the way as it went, and stretched out its horns to discover the best

direction. Its delicate touch astonished Frank. When obstacles came

in its way which it did not see nor touch, it would perceive them by

means of a wonderful sensibility.

How stupid did Richard appear to himself, beside a horned, blind

snail. How many men only discover obstacles in their way when they

have run their heads against them, and how many wish to run their

heads through walls without any reason! He arose and looked toward

Angela's home. He was dejected, and heaved a sigh.

"All is of no avail. The activity of the animal world affords no

diversion, the benumbing strokes of materialism lose their effect.

The rare becomes common, and does not attract attention. There walks

an angel in the splendor of superior excellence, and I endeavor in

vain to distract my mind from her by studying the animals. I follow

willingly the professors' exact investigations, into the labyrinth

of their studied arguments to make it appear that I am only an

animal, that all our sentiment is only imagination and fallacy. It

is all in vain. Can these gentlemen teach me how we can cease to

have admiration for the noble and exalted? Here man forcibly breaks

through. Here self, irresistible and disgusted with error, brings

the nobility of human nature to consciousness, and all the wisdom of

boasted materialism becomes idle nonsense."

"Thank God! I see you again, my dear neighbor," said Siegwart

cordially. "Where have you kept yourself this last week? Why do you

no longer visit us? My whole house is excited about you. Henry is

angry because he cannot show you the horses he bought lately. My wife

bothers her head with all kinds of forebodings, and Angela urged me

to send and see if you were ill."

A new life permeated Frank's whole being at these last words; his

cheeks flushed and his languid eyes brightened up.

"I know no good reason as an apology, dear friend. Be assured,

however, that the apparent neglect does not arise from any coolness

toward you and your esteemed family." And he drew marks in the sand

with his cane.

"Perhaps your father took offence at your visits to us?"

"Oh! no. No; I alone am to blame."

Siegwart gave a searching glance at the pale face of the young man

who, broken-spirited, stood before him, and whose mental condition he

did not understand, although he had a vague idea of it.

"I will not press you further," said he cheerfully. "But, as a

punishment, you must now come with me. I received yesterday a fresh

supply of genuine Havanas, and you must try them."

He took Richard by the arm, and the latter yielded to the friendly

compulsion. They went through the vineyard. Frank broke from a twig a

folded leaf.

"Do you know the cause of this?"

"Oh! yes; it is the work of the vine-weevil," answered Siegwart.

"These mischief-makers sometimes cause great damage to the vineyards.

Some years I have their nests gathered and the eggs destroyed to

prevent their doing damage."

"You consider every thing with the eyes of an economist. But I admire

the art, the foresight, and the intelligence of these insects."

"Intelligence--foresight of an insect!" repeated Siegwart,

astonished. "I see in the whole affair neither intelligence nor

foresight."

"But just look here," said Richard, carefully unfolding the leaf.

"What a degree of considerate management is necessary to fix the leaf

in such order. The ribs of this leaf are stronger than the force of

the beetle. Yet he wished to fold the eggs in it. What does he do?

He first pierces the stem with his pincers; in consequence of this,

the leaf curls up and becomes soft and pliable to the frail feet

of the insect. This is the first act of reflection. The piercing

of the stem had evidently as its object to cause the leaf to roll

up. Then he begins to work with a perfection that would do honor to

human skill. The leaf is rolled up in order to put the eggs in the

folds. Here is the first egg; he rolls further--here is the second

egg, some distance from the first, in order to have sufficient food

for the young worm--again an act of reflection; lastly, he finishes

the roll with a carefully worked point, to prevent the leaf from

unfolding--again an act of reflection."

Siegwart heard all this with indifference. What Richard told him he

had known for years. His employment in the fields revealed to his

observing mind wonderful facts in nature and in the animal world. The

wisdom of the vine-weevil gave him no difficulty. He looked again in

Frank's deep-sunken eyes and noticed a peculiar expression, and in

his countenance great anxiety.

He concluded that the work of the vine-weevil must have some

connection with the young man's condition.

"You see actions of reflection and design where I see only

unconscious instinct."

Frank became nervous.

"The common evasion of superficial examination!" cried he. "Man must

be just even to the animals. Their works are artistic, intelligent,

and considerate. Why then deny to animals those powers which operate

with intelligence and reflection?"

"I do not for a moment dispute this power of the animals," replied

the proprietor quickly.

"You find mind in the animals?" interrupted Frank hastily. "This

conviction once reached, have you considered the consequences that

follow?"--and he became more excited. "Have you considered that with

this admission the whole world becomes a fabulous structure, without

any higher object? If the spider is equal to man, then its torn web

that flutters in the wind is worth as much as the crumbling fragments

of art which remain from classic antiquity. Virtue, the careful

restraining of the passions, is stark madness. The disgusting ape,

lustful and brutish, is as good as the purest virgin who performs

severe penances for her idle dreams. It is with justice that the

criminal scoffs at the good as bedlamites who, with fanatical

delusion, strive for castles in the air. Every outcast from society,

sunk and saturated in the basest vices, is precisely as good as the

purest soul and the noblest heart; for all distinction between right

and wrong, good and evil, is destroyed."

Angela's father gazed with solicitude into the perplexed look and

distorted countenance of the young man.

"You deduce consequences, Herr Frank, that could not be drawn

from my admissions," said he mildly. "There is no conscious power

in animals--no reflecting soul. The animal works with the power

that is in it, as light and heat in the fire, as in the lightning

the destructive force, as the exciting and purifying effects in

the storm. The animal does not act freely, like man; but from

necessity--according to instinct and laws which the Almighty has

imposed upon it."

"A gratuitous assumption! A shallow artifice," exclaimed Frank. "The

animal shows understanding, design, and will; we must not deny him

these faculties."

"If the lightning strikes my house and discovers with infallible

certainty all the metal in the walls, even where the sharpest eye

could not detect it, must you recognize mental faculties in the

lightning in discovering the metal?"

Frank hemmed and was silent.

"What a botcher is the most learned chemist compared with the

root-fibres of the smallest plant," continued Siegwart. "Every plant

has its own peculiar life; this I observe every day. All plants

do not flourish alike in the same soil. They only flourish where

they find the necessary conditions for their peculiar life; where

they find in the air and earth the conditions necessary for their

existence. Set ten different kinds of plants together in a small plat

of ground. The different fibres will always seek and absorb only that

material in the earth which is proper to their kind; they will pass

by the useless and injurious substances. Now, where is the chemist

who with such certainty, such power of discrimination, and knowledge

of substances, can select from the inert clod the proper material? A

chemist with such knowledge does not exist. Now, must you admit that

the fibres possess as keen an understanding and as deep a knowledge

of chemistry as the man who is versed in chemistry?"

"That would be manifest folly."

"Well," concluded Siegwart quietly, "if the vine-weevil weaves its

wrapper, the spider its web, the bird builds its nest, and the beaver

his house, they all do it in their way, as the root-fibres in theirs."

Richard remained silent, and they passed into the house.

Angela and her mother looked with astonishment and sympathy on their

friend.

Soon in the mild countenance of Madam Siegwart there appeared

nearly the same expression as in the first days after the death of

Eliza--so much did the painful appearance of the young man afflict

her. Angela turned pale, her eyes filled, and she strove to hide

her emotion. Frank only looked at her furtively. Whatever he had to

say to her, he said with averted eyes. Siegwart expended all his

powers of amusement; but he did not succeed in cheering the young

man. He continued depressed, embarrassed, and sad, and constantly

avoided looking at Angela. When she spoke he listened to the sound of

her voice, but avoided her look. Presently a low barking was heard

in the room and Hector, who had growlingly received Frank at his

first visit, but who in time had become an acquaintance of his, lay

stretched at full length dreaming. Scarcely did Richard notice the

dreaming animal when he exclaimed,

"The dog dreams! See how his feet move in the chase, how he opens his

nostrils, how he barks, how his limbs reach for the game! The dog

dreams he is in the chase."

"I have often observed Hector's dreams," said Siegwart coolly.

Frank continued,

"Have you considered the consequences that follow from the dreams of

the dog? Dreams show a thinking faculty," said he hastily. "Animals,

then, think like men; thoughts are the children of the mind;

therefore, animals have minds. Animals and men are alike."

Angela started at these words. Her mother shook her head.

"You conclude too hastily, my dear friend," said Siegwart coolly.

"You must first _know_ that animals dream like men. Men think,

reflect, and speak in dreams. The dreams of animals are very

different from those mental acts."

"How will you explain it?" said Richard excitedly.

"Very easily. Hector is now in the chase. The dog's sense of smell

is remarkable. By means of the fragrant wind Hector smells the

partridges miles away. He acts then just as in the dream; feet,

nose, and limbs come into activity. Suppose that in the surrounding

fields there is a covey of partridges. The air would indicate them

to Hector's smelling organs; these organs act, as in the waking

state, on the brain of the animal; the brain acts on the other

organs. Where is there thought? Have we not a purely material effect?

The cough, the appetite, the sneezing, the aversion--what have all

these to do with mind or thought? Nothing at all. The dream of the

dog is an entirely muscular process, the mere co-working of the

muscular organs; as with us, digestion, the flowing of the blood, the

twitching of the muscles--facts with which the mind has nothing to

do."

"Your assertion is based on the assumption that partridges are

near," said Richard; "and I will be obliged to you if, with Hector's

assistance, you convince me of this fact."

"That is unnecessary, my dear friend. Suppose there are no

partridges in the neighborhood. The same affection of the brain which

would be produced by the smell of the partridges could be produced by

accident. If it is accidental, it will have the same effect in the

sleeping condition of the dog.[111] Affections accidentally arise

in man the causes of which are not known. We are uneasy, we know

not why; we are discouraged without any knowledge of the cause. We

are joyful without being able to give any reason for it. The mind

can rise above all these dispositions, affections, and humors; can

govern, cast out, and disperse them. Proof enough that a king lives

in man--the breath of God, which is not taken from the earth, and to

which all matter must yield if that power so wills."

The dog stretched his strong legs without any idea of the important

question to which he had given occasion.

"Herr Frank," began Madam Siegwart earnestly, "I have learned to

respect you, and have often wished that my son, at your years, would

be like you. I see now with painful astonishment that you defend

opinions which contradict your former expressions, and the sentiments

we must expect from a Christian. Will you not be so good as to tell

me how you have so suddenly changed your views?"

"Esteemed madam," answered Frank, with emotion, "I thank you for

this undeserved motherly sympathy; but I beg of you not to believe

that the opinions I expressed are my firm convictions. No, I have

not yet fallen so deep that for me there is no difference between

man and beast. I can yet continue to believe that materialism is a

crime against mankind. On the other hand, I freely acknowledge that

my mind is in great trouble; that every firm position beneath my feet

totters; that I have been tempted to hold doctrines degrading to the

individual and destructive to society. I have been brought into this

difficulty by reading books whose seductive proofs I am not able to

refute. Oh! I am miserable, very miserable; my appearance must have

shown you that already."

He looked involuntarily at Angela; he saw tears in her eyes; he bowed

his head and was silent.

"I see your difficulties," said the proprietor. "They enter early or

late into the mind of every man. It is good, in such uncertainties

and doubts, to lean on the authority of truth. This authority

can only be God, who is truth itself, who came down from heaven

and brought light into the darkness. We can prove, inquire, and

speculate; but the keenest human intellect is not always free from

delusion. As there is in man a spiritual tendency which raises him

far above the visible and material, God has been pleased to lead and

direct that tendency by revelation, that man may not err. I consider

divine revelation a necessity which God willed when he created the

mind. As the mind has an instinctive thirst after truth, God must, by

the revelation of truth, satisfy this thirst. Therefore is revelation

as old as the human race. It reached its completion and perfection

by the coming of the Lord, who said, 'I am the truth;' and this

knowledge of the truth remains in the church through the guidance of

the Spirit of truth, till the latest generation. This is only my

ultramontane conviction," said Siegwart, smiling; "but it affords

peace and certainty."

Angela had gone out, and now returned with a basket, in which lay a

little dog, of a few days old, asleep. She set the basket carefully

down before Frank, so as not to awaken the sleeper.

"As you appreciate the full worth of striking proofs, I am glad to be

able to place one before you, in the shape of this little dog," said

she, appearing desirous of cheering her dejected friend. But Frank

did not receive from her cheerful countenance either strength or

encouragement, for he did not look up.

"This little dog is only eight days old," she continued; "its eyes

are not yet open; it can neither walk nor bark; it can only growl a

little; and it does nothing but sleep and dream. I have noticed its

dreams since the first day of its birth. You can convince yourself

of its dreaming." She stooped over the basket and her soft hair

disturbed the sleeper.

For a moment Frank saw and heard nothing.

"See," she continued, "how its little feet move, and how its body

jerks. Hear the low growl, and see the hairs round the mouth how they

twitch, how the nose shrinks and expands--all the same as in Hector.

The little thing knows nothing at all of the world--no more than

a child eight days old. We certainly, therefore, will not deceive

ourselves in assuming that all these movements are only muscular

twitchings; that neither the pup nor Hector dreams like a man."

Frank first looked at the dog in great surprise, and then gazed

admiringly on Angela.

"O fraulein! how I thank you."

She appeared most lovely in his eyes. He suddenly turned toward her

father.

"Your house is a great blessing to me. It appears that the pure

atmosphere of religious conviction which you breathe victoriously

combats all dark doubts, as light dissipates darkness."

FOOTNOTE:

[111] This argument is not conclusive, nor is it at all necessary.

Animals have memory; and there is no more reason why their waking

sensations, emotions, and acts should not repeat themselves in dreams

than there is in the case of men. The difference between the soul of

man and the soul of the brute is constituted by the presence of the

gift of reason, or the faculty of knowing necessary and universal

truths in the former, and its absence in the latter.--ED. CATHOLIC

WORLD.

* * * * *

Angela stood in her room. She knew that the spirit of unbelief

pervaded the world, taking possession of thousands and destroying

all life and effort. She saw Richard threatened by this spirit, and

feared for his soul. She became very anxious, and sank on her knees

before the crucifix and cried to heaven for succor.

Night was upon all things. The black clouds, lowering deep and heavy,

shut out all light from heaven. The wind swept the mountains, the

forest moaned, and thunder muttered in the distance. Klingenberg

sat before his folios. A fitful light glimmered from the room of

Richard's father. Richard himself came home late, took his supper,

and retired to his chamber; there he walked back and forth, thinking,

contending with himself, and speaking aloud. Before his door stood a

dark figure--immovable and listening.

It knocked at the door of the elder Frank. Jacob, a servant who had

grown gray in the service of the house, entered. Frank received him

with surprise, and awaited expectantly what he had to say.

"We are all wrong," said Jacob. "My poor young master has now spoken

out clearly. He is not sick because of the foolish trash in the

books. He is in love, terribly in love."

"Ah! in love?" said Herr Frank.

"You should just have heard how he complains and laments that he is

not worthy of her. 'O Angela, Angela!' he cried at least a hundred

times, 'could I only raise myself to your level and make myself

worthy! But your soul, so pure, your character, so immaculate and

good, thrusts me away. I look up to you with admiration and longing,

as the troubled pilgrim on earth looks up to the peace and grandeur

of heaven.' This is the way he talked. He is to be pitied, sir."

"So--so--in love, and with Siegwart's daughter," said Frank sadly.

"The tragedy will change into comedy. Even if they were not so

unapproachably high, but like other people on earth, my son should

never take an ultramontane wife."

"But if he loves her so deeply, sir?"

"Be still; you know nothing about it. Has he lain down?"

"Yes; or, at least, he is quiet."

"Continue to watch him. I must immediately make known to the doctor

this love affair. He will be surprised to find the philosopher

changed into a love-sick visionary."

TO BE CONTINUED.

TRANSLATED FROM THE ITALIAN.

THE PHILOSOPHICAL DOCTRINES OF ST. AUGUSTINE COMPARED WITH THE

IDEOLOGY OF THE MODERN SCHOOLS.

"St. Thomas treats the peripatetic philosophy in such a

manner that Plato himself would have willingly accepted it as

Platonic."--_Gerdil_, Ed. Rom. t. ix. p. 58.

BY THE REV. FATHER CARLO VERCELLONE, BARNABITE.

INTRODUCTORY NOTE.

The _Dublin Review_ has recently commenced a series of articles with

the view of promoting philosophical unity among Catholic scholars,

and of urging upon them the necessity of a combined effort against

modern scepticism. We are very glad that Dr. Ward has turned the

powerful stream of his great literary engine in this direction. We

are in perfect accord with him on this point, that false philosophy

lies at the foundation of all the worst errors of the day, and that

these errors can only be effectually subverted by a true and sound

philosophy. We desire, therefore, as we have always desired and

endeavored, to do what we can in this magazine, both to promote

agreement among Catholics in sound philosophical principles, and to

refute those false principles in modern times so generally adopted,

which are better designated by the term pure psychologism than

by any other name that we know of. We desire to make it clearly

known, however, that by this term we intend only to designate the

philosophical doctrine of Des Cartes, and that which constitutes

the primary principle of the systems of Locke, Hamilton, Mansel,

Mill, Kant, Spencer, and other uncatholic writers. We call it pure

psychologism, because it acknowledges no other first principle of

thought and reason than the consciousness which the thinking subject

has or seems to have of itself under various phases or modifications.

We do not apply the term to any recognized school of Catholic

philosophy, or to the system of any respectable author whose works

are in good repute in the church, and we believe that there is no

one among them who would not repudiate the epithet if applied to

his doctrine by an opponent. In the sense in which we have defined

it, it is the heresy of nominalism carried to its utmost logical

consequences--that is, to complete subjecticism or scepticism in

the order of pure reason. Opposed to it is the realism sustained in

theology by every orthodox writer, and in philosophy by every one

whose philosophy is not in direct contradiction to his theology.

This realism is the affirmation of the objective entity, distinct

from and superior to the thinking subject of that which reason

immediately apprehends as intelligible, necessary, self-evident,

universal idea, together with the objective entity of that which is

perceived as existing under sensible phenomena. It is the denial

or doubt of this objective reality which nullifies the effect of

all reasoning from principles or from evidence in proof of Catholic

dogmas. We meet with a scepticism in regard to the real existence

of God, of truth, of the external world, of the soul itself, which

renders logic vain. It is only a return to first principles and to a

belief in reason, therefore, which can give us a basis on which to

reintegrate the rights of faith against the modern irrationalists

and misologists--that is, haters of reason. The restoration and

improvement of philosophy is an object of primary importance to

the religious, moral, and political welfare of the world. It is in

vain to think of looking for this improvement elsewhere than in

the investigation and development of the philosophical doctrine of

Plato, Aristotle, the great fathers and doctors of the church, the

scholastic metaphysicians, and their successors. As there is no

real progress in theological science except in the continuity of

scholastic theology, so there is none in metaphysical science except

in the continuity of scholastic philosophy. As, in theology, all

sound Catholic authors work together harmoniously in defending and

propugnating those essential doctrines which are clearly defined and

universally admitted, at the same time discussing among themselves in

a friendly manner those opinions which are as yet only probable, so

it should be in philosophy. The most important thing is to maintain

that philosophical truth in which all sound Catholic authors are

agreed against the sceptical principles of modern sophists. Advance

in the science of this truth; with that increase of clearness in

conception and statement, and of unanimity in opinion, which is its

natural consequence; can only be gained by exhaustive study and

argumentation of obscure and disputed questions, carried on in a

truly catholic, impartial, and conciliatory spirit.

The author of the article before us was one who labored most

zealously in this direction. He was a learned Barnabite monk,

occupying a high position among the erudite scholars of the Roman

court and schools. He held the position of consultor to one of the

Roman congregations, and was a member of the commission on oriental

affairs, preparatory to the Council of the Vatican, at the time

of his decease. The present essay was read before the Academy of

the Catholic Religion at Rome, on the 27th of August, 1863, and

published by the Propaganda press. We have taken it from an edition

of F. Vercellone's _Dissertazioni Accademiche di Vario Argomento_,

published at Rome in 1864, and dedicated to Cardinal De Luca. There

can be no doubt of F. Vercellone's competency to discriminate in

philosophical matters between the doctrine prescribed by authority,

and that which rests only on the judgment of eminent schools and

authors, and on the arguments by which this judgment is supported.

His position gave him unusual facilities for understanding the

reason and true import of the judgments pronounced by the holy see

on philosophical questions, so that whatever he has written with a

bearing on points which have been a subject of controversy among

Catholic writers must have the greatest weight, and be entitled, at

least, to be considered as safe opinion. For this reason, as well

as for the intrinsic value it possesses, we have thought the essay

now presented to the readers of THE CATHOLIC WORLD to be especially

worthy of translation into English, and of careful study by all who

are interested in the advancement of sound philosophy.--ED. CATH.

WORLD.

DISSERTATION.

In contradiction to that most grave and deplorable error by which

many unbelievers of our own day, more than those of an earlier

period, love to confound religion with philosophy, we firmly hold

the principle which was efficaciously and unanimously sustained by

the ancient sages, pagan as well as Christian, that religion is the

chief end to which philosophy is directed. If this were not so, we

should never have seen what forms one of the chief glories of the

holy church. I mean, that the eagle of all human philosophy, the

incomparable Augustine, claims the first and most glorious place

among the renowned and venerable company of the holy fathers; I

mean, that to the holy fathers generally belongs the merit of having

initiated the whole Christian world into a philosophy much more

severe, more legitimate, and more conclusive than that which was

previously a most rare privilege, one, also, more or less temporary

and successive, of Cortona, of Elea, of Athens, of Alexandria, and

of some other cities; so that not a few of these fathers have left

us, in their works, an immense harvest for the benefit of philosophy,

partly the fruit of their own genius and thought on various topics,

partly in the form of precious monuments of that admirable wisdom of

more ancient times which was itself, as it existed among the heathen,

not altogether free from the influence of the true religion, and

therefore descended by a just title of inheritance to Christianity.

And if philosophy revived and arose from its ashes two centuries,

at least, before our language and literature, as this preceded

by several hundred years those of foreign nations, to whom does

the praise more justly belong than to the renowned Benedictine

of Aosta, a man whose genius and metaphysical power equalled his

sanctity? If, besides, the philosophy of Aristotle was exhibited

to the world in a Christian form--that is, purified, completed,

rigorous, true, irrefutable, as Augustine and the other fathers

had done to the Platonic wisdom--to whom belongs the merit but to

a seraphic cardinal and an angelical Dominican? Perhaps the modern

depreciators of scholasticism, the chief enemies of the Catholic

clergy, the persecutors of religious orders, have on their side

philosophers worthy to be compared with an Anselm, a Bonaventure, a

Thomas? Whoever has received from God the grace of appertaining to

the Catholic Church can easily see, with his own eyes, if he is not

altogether a faster in science, how many and great services the true

religion renders to philosophy; by simply opening at random any

one of the sacred and precious volumes, either of the illustrious

ancient fathers or of the venerable princes of the schools. But

those of us who are honored by the privilege of representing in the

chairs of instruction, or cultivating and illustrating in books the

Catholic philosophy, have far greater reason to know and esteem

the masterpieces of the doctors and the fathers. Such can see, by

contrast with these, that what is called the modern philosophy,

although sustained and kept on foot, here and there, by some authors

of unusual and vast speculative ability, nevertheless never satisfies

in the least any one who attempts to revive it, always lacking a

valid direction, always liable to sudden changes and vacillations--a

sure sign of internal contradiction--agitated, discomposed, tormented

by all the follies of the most mediocre and turbulent intellects.

Such persons as these, not observing that logic (permit me here to

use the language of St. Augustine) is properly the intellectual

judgment of entire humanity, that it cannot be made anew, as it

cannot either be unmade, but only obtained by inheritance and

amplified and extended by felicitous discoveries; not considering, I

say, any of these things, they believe that out of the present age

there ought to issue a new and magnificent rational philosophy; just

as there certainly has issued a new and stupendous literature, a

geometry totally renovated and enlarged to most gigantic proportions,

and a system of physics in great part constructed anew, corrected

by experiments and elucidated by better hypotheses. But I pray and

hope that the time of undeceiving has arrived, and that the Catholic

masters (the others will turn back when this happens) will apply

themselves in earnest to pick up again the thread of perfect and

classical tradition in science. This I come to-day to recommend; and

I have confidence that I can better persuade men to undertake it

by example, and, as it were, by means of something actually done,

if you, with your accustomed benignity, will deign to bear with my

proposition, and to give it the support and weight of your authority.

I invoke the authority of this respectable assembly for an end I

have greatly at heart, and which seems to me of supreme importance

both to scientific advancement and religious edification; that is,

to obtain that our philosophers, divided, not by their own fault

but by that of our ancestors of the last century, into ontologists

and psychologists, should once for all give their attention and

open their eyes to the history too long belied and alone worthy

of consideration--the history, I say, ever new, brilliant, and

unsurpassable, of our own philosophy; and instead of consuming all

their strength in a war among our excellent doctors--which it is

high time to break off--should apply themselves rather to lay a

new grasp on the ancient wisdom of Catholicism with one hand, and

with the other to repulse and discomfit the audacious and execrable

crowd of modern errors. Assuredly, when the doctrine as well of

the fathers relatively to the Platonic system, as of the greater

schoolmen to the metaphysics of Aristotle, shall have been first

placed in a better light and looked at in its multiform aspects

by means of various and judicious investigations, it will be made

universally manifest that the Platonism and Aristotelianism of the

heathen were not in any wise identical with the ontologism and

psychologism of the Catholic masters; that the war between the

Academics and Peripatetics was annihilated and put aside by the

rigor and integrity of Catholic thought; that, in fine, the Plato

of the holy fathers does not disdain the psychologism of St. Thomas,

and that the Aristotle of the chief schoolmen does not reject the

ontologism of St. Augustine. Since this may appear to some as a thing

which is more specious in assertion than capable of solid proof,

I will draw out that exemplification of it which I have promised,

and will come to facts; setting forth certain brief considerations

in relation to ideology--that is to say, in relation to the most

controverted theme and the most grave and obstinate question of the

modern schools in rational philosophy, especially among Catholics.

I will describe and mark out, first, from original testimonies, the

Augustinian conception, or, indeed, the genesis of his ideology;

in the second place, I will search into the modern origin of the

division between the ideology of the Catholic ontologists and that

of the psychologists equally Catholic; finally, I will make evident

how the reconciliation of the children with the father and of the

modern scission with the ancient unity, suffices to consolidate the

hope of a peace which all desire, and which, by combining the forces

of our best minds, may render Catholic philosophy more harmoniously

operative against the better united forces of the modern enemies of

truth.

A man who in his whole life had done nothing except to write the

twenty-two books of _The City of God_ ought justly to be esteemed

the first and most admirable philosopher on the earth. Never was

it better known or more loudly proclaimed than in our day, that

the philosophy of history carries off the palm on the field of

human speculations. In recommending, therefore, the philosophical

excellence of St. Augustine, we can prove the justice of our opinion

by this one argument, which is by itself sufficient. Let us compare

whatever modern writers have been able to do in this class of

books with _The City of God_; if no work of modern times, can be

found either so original, so extensive, so erudite, or so profound

as _The City of God_, written fourteen centuries ago, we must

necessarily agree that a return to this centre of Catholic wisdom is

the only method of giving impetus and improvement to philosophical

speculations. But we will not now extend our search so far as this.

I will confine myself to the eighth book, which includes a notice

and an appreciation of the different systems of the entire pagan

philosophy, and forms an introduction to that long and sublime

parallel between natural reason and revelation, carried on throughout

the succeeding books in a manner equally novel and splendid, with a

view to the illustration of the whole field of Catholic theology by

the highest efforts of human wisdom and the best sentiments of the

pagans themselves. The most vital part of the preliminary views,

introducing the subject of the eighth and succeeding books, is as

follows:

There are two points, he says, which must be firmly held: that

Catholics ought not to deny that which is good in the philosophy of

the pagans; and that, on the other hand, they are bound to reject

and refute all the falsehood contained in it. The first is proved by

that which the apostle says. _What is known_ of God is manifest _in

them; for God has manifested it to them. For the invisible things of

him are beheld from the constitution of the world, being understood

by means of those things which are made, even his eternal power and

divinity._ Moreover, at the Areopagus, when he affirmed that _in him

we live and move and are_, he added, _as some also of your own poets

have said_. The second is proved by another text. _Beware lest any

one deceive you by philosophy and vain seduction according to the

elements of the world._[112]

This being laid down, the duty of Catholic philosophers is that

already touched upon--the separation of the good gold in pagan

philosophy from the counterfeit; and as all the philosophy is divided

into three parts, _natural, rational, and moral_, "we shall hold,"

continues St. Augustine, "that natural philosophy for false which

does not place God as the only principle and true creator of all

other natures; we shall hold as false that rational philosophy which

does not maintain that God alone is the intelligible reason of all

minds; we shall repute as false that moral which does not prove that

God alone is that good which is worthy to be the end of a virtuous

and perfect course of life." Now, the great multitude of pagan

philosophers was far distant from any recognition or profession of

the three heads we have given; scarcely was there a small number of

privileged persons among the disciples, I hardly know whether to say

in preference of Plato or of Pythagoras, who made any near approach

to Catholic truth, aided, in all probability, by some knowledge of

Jewish traditions.

"No one having even a slight knowledge of these things is ignorant

that there are those philosophers called Platonists, from

their master, Plato."(1) "Perhaps those who enjoy the greatest

celebrity as having the most clearly understood, and the most

closely followed Plato, who is with justice esteemed to be far

superior to the other philosophers of the Gentiles, hold a similar

opinion concerning God, namely, that in him is found the cause of

subsistence, and the reason of intelligence, and the regulating

principle of life."(2) "If, therefore, Plato has said that the

wise man is one who is an imitator, a knower, and a lover of the

one true and supremely good God, by a participation with whom he

is blessed, what need is there of discussing the rest?"(3) "This

is, therefore, the reason why we prefer these to the others;

because while other philosophers have employed their talents and

efforts in searching out the causes of things, and what is the

method of learning and living, these, having the knowledge of

God, have found where is the cause of the constitution of the

universe, and the light of perceptible truth, and the fountain

whence we may drink felicity."(4) "All those philosophers who

have held these opinions concerning the true and supreme God,

that he is the framer of those things which are created, and

the light of those things which are knowable, and the good of

those things which ought to be done, whether they are more

properly called Platonists, Ionics, or Italics, on account of

Pythagoras, we prefer to the others, and regard them as nearer to

ourselves."(5)[113]

It is very necessary, he says, to exclude all merely verbal

questions, since it is of things not words that he is treating. I

wish to demonstrate that the philosophy of the pagans, when it is

good and true, accords wonderfully with Catholic truth, and gives

rise naturally to Catholic philosophy--that is to say, the principal

and most excellent philosophy of mankind; similarly, I wish to

demonstrate that, in so far as the pagan philosophy is in discordance

and repugnance to Catholic truth, it is false, corrupt, and in need

of better and more rational emendations.

No one, certainly, will exact of me that I make a minute examination

of the innumerable and varying systems or opinions of pagan

antiquity; it is enough that I prove my proposition by confining

myself to the best philosophy of all paganism. If I make good

my assertion respecting the best system of doctrine which ever

appeared in Gentile philosophy, it will be evident enough that

the same assertion holds even more strongly in reference to other

systems, more or less inferior to this one. But this is certain,

that gentilism had no philosophy worthy to be compared, much less

preferred, to the doctrine of those authors who acknowledged, and, in

the best manner of which they were capable, proclaimed the existence

of one only supreme and true God, "from whom we derive the principle

of our nature, the truth of our knowledge, and the happiness of our

life."[114] I turn, therefore, to these authors with the purpose of

examining what is good and what is bad in them; "but I find it more

suitable to discuss this subject with the Platonists, because their

writings are better known; for not only the Greeks, whose language is

preëminent among the nations, have made them celebrated by greatly

extolling their excellence; but the Latins also, moved by their

excellence or their renown, have studied them with greater ardor than

any others, and by translating them into our language have made them

still more famous and renowned."[115]

From all this, not a few consequences, whose value you above all

others are able to judge and appreciate, are immediately deduced with

a clearness greater even than we could desire. The first is, that the

noblest and greatest problem of modern philosophy, to wit, that the

protological and encyclopædic principle cannot be placed elsewhere

than in the principle of creation, understood in conformity with the

tradition of the Catholic Church; this principle, I say, was stated

and solved amply, doubly, irrefutably, by St. Augustine; first, in

his _Soliloquies_, where one by one the partial principles of all the

sciences are recovered; secondly, in this eighth book of _The City

of God_, where the one only rule is laid hold of and exhibited by

which to distinguish the only true system among various and opposite

philosophical systems. The second consequence is, that those persons

must cover their eyes with both hands who will not see and admit

that St. Augustine preferred the Platonic doctrine, and specifically

preferred the Platonic or Pythagorean ideology, in the clearest

terms in which it was possible for him to express his meaning. The

third is, that St. Augustine not only derived his ideology from the

very principle of creation, in the way of an inference more or less

remote; but held it, rather, as an integral part of the principle

itself, and made of it a second cycle, one lying between the first,

which respects the origin of substances, and the third, which assigns

the good of operations. The final consequence is, that this second

cycle, relating to rational intelligence, has been passed over by

the moderns; which may serve as a useful admonition to them, to

convince them thoroughly that no one can take St. Augustine's place

in philosophy; that modern philosophy, with all its power, lags very

far behind the Augustinian speculations, and that if all other books

are understood and studied to the neglect of St. Augustine, this will

turn not to his disadvantage but to ours. Thus we see, by a most

striking example, that he alone not only saved, by the principle

of creation, physics and ethics; but moreover, by that middle

cycle, which is as it were central to the other two, saved rational

philosophy, without which the other two result less necessarily, and,

so to speak, revert back to nullity.

The first of the consequences above enumerated was noted by me in

this place many years ago; and has been better exhibited for the

benefit of science by the illustrious F. Milone in his book entitled,

_La Scuola di Filosofia Razionale Intitolata a S. Augustino_;

wherefore I will abstain from considering it any further at present.

I will restrict myself on this occasion to taking advantage of the

other consequences which follow to a marvel from the ideology, but

especially from the genesis of the ideology of St. Augustine. Indeed

we have a great number of authors, beginning with the most exalted

of all, that is, the seraphic and angelic doctors, and terminating

with writers who are still living in Italy, France, and Belgium, who

have collected from the Augustinian writings a most extensive list

of disputed questions concerning ideology and human knowledge; but,

above all, we have two more remarkable collections in the works of

those two fathers of the Oratory of France, who are equal to any in

learning and merit--Thomassin and Martin.[116] That which may perhaps

have something new and original in it, in our own investigation, is

the more exact indication of the primitive fountain and source whence

these large streams take their issue; that source, namely, from which

St. Augustine derived the logical moment of that ideology which he

bases, constructs, and amplifies with such great strength; which was

the concept, original with him, of that most vast and sublime theory

of human cognitions formed by him alone. It appears to me that I

have made it clear to all, from those things which have been laid

down and the testimonies adduced, that St. Augustine concentrates

and hinges the three branches of the natural encyclopædia in one

sole principle unfolded in three members: the principle being that

of creation; the three members being physics, logic, and ethics;

which are respectively the sole cause of existence, the sole light

of knowledge, the sole end of virtue. From this every one can see

and touch with the hand that St. Augustine found his ideology in the

principle of creation, regarded it as a part of the principle of

creation, distinguished it from the two extreme cycles, and from the

two opposite members of the principle of creation. If any one had

denied the ideology of St. Augustine in his time, St. Augustine would

have been bound to say that such a person denied the principle of

creation; if some one else had vaunted a contrary system of ideology,

he would have been bound to judge that system to be contrary to the

principle of creation; if any one had demanded from St. Augustine the

substantial formula of his ideology, the origin of that ideology,

or the proofs of the stability, security, and irrefutable validity

of that ideology, he would always have been obliged to answer by

appealing to the universal principle established by reason and the

Catholic faith, that is, to the principle of creation. Therefore

the genesis of the Augustinian ideology, if it had not been already

traced out or properly considered before to-day, would be now as

clear and certain as the light, and with the eighth book of _The City

of God_, we might predict that it would be immortal.

In scientific themes a twofold labor must be undergone; on the one

hand, in ascertaining, and in elucidating on the other, the matters

to be treated of; and the one who must apply himself rigorously

to one part of this is rarely able at the same time to attend to

the other. This is the case with myself; for, having been obliged

to point out the seat and position of the Augustinian ideology in

that encyclopædic principle which I have above defined, I could not

bring forward the second cycle except as implicated and restricted

by the other two, the first and third. I am glad to be able now

to supply, at least partially, this defect, by alleging one quite

peculiar testimony, which, fortunately, leaves in the background

the two cycles with which we are not concerned, and brings forward

with admirable distinctness the one which specially concerns us in

ideology.

"Now, those authors whom we with justice prefer to all others,"

(says St. Augustine, speaking of the Platonists, Pythagoreans, and

others of the best stamp,) "have distinguished those things which

are perceived by the mind from those which are attained by the

sense; not taking from the senses those things for which they have

a capacity, or granting to them what is beyond their capacity.

But the light of minds by which all things are learned [see here

clearly the second cycle] they affirmed to be God himself, by whom

all things were made."

_Lumen autem mentium esse dixerunt ad discenda omnia eumdem ipsum

Deum a quo facta sunt omnia._[117] The principle of creation,

then, in so far regards our rational intelligence as it places on

the one hand the sensible perception we have of it, and on the

other the intelligence which we have in addition as our great

prerogative. Rational cognition comes from the conjunction of

intellect with sensibility; and therefore the greater part of the

ancient philosophers, grossly taking our cognition for an act tied

to a mere sensible perception, and badly mixing up sense with

intellect and the sensible with the intelligible, knew little or

nothing of the contra-position of the one to the other. Some of them,

giving every thing to the sensible, fell into Epicureanism, into

materialism, into atheism, denying God, and thus the principle of

creation; others, paying attention only to the intelligible, rushed

into fatalism and pantheism, denying created substances, and thus

again the principle of creation. These are the philosophers whom we

Catholics cannot prefer to the others; whom St. Augustine says, _non

prodest excutere_, it is lost time to discuss them. But those, on the

contrary, _quos merito ceteris anteponimus_, began from a fundamental

distinction between the intelligible and the sensible, and therefore

also between the intelligence and the sensibility; _discreverunt

ea quæ mente conspiciuntur ab eis quæ sensibus attinguntur_;

nor did they take away from the senses their proper office and

necessary value in the act of defending as their principal aim the

intelligence, which is so true that they regarded rational cognition

as a sort of marriage, and a true coöperation, of the mind with the

senses. If, then, concludes the most glorious father of Catholic

philosophy, the best sages of antiquity, and we with them admit and

give value to the sensibility, that is necessary in order to maintain

the principle of creation, since otherwise all the substances created

by God, which are sensible natures, disappear. Likewise if the same

sages, and we as much as or even more than they, admit and defend

intelligence, this is of equal if not greater necessity, in order to

keep the same principle of creation. In fact, with the sensibility

alone, _non est discere_, we can learn nothing, as the brutes, _certo

nusquam discunt_ certainly never learn any thing; but only minds

endowed with intelligence, who have as a light _ad discenda omnia,

eumdem ipsum Deum a quo facta sunt omnia_--as a light for learning

all things, that same God himself who created all things. Since,

therefore, by the principle of creation, God is the only light of

all minds, so, by denying to minds that divine, creative light, all

rational intelligence is denied, and the principle of creation is

totally destroyed, just as much as by taking away all substances.

But perhaps some one of you, considering that St. Augustine had been

instructed in the Platonic doctrine, as we read in the _Summa_ of

Aquinas, will remain doubtful whether the genesis which I have traced

out is not that of the Platonic or Pythagorean ideology, whichever

we may choose to call it, rather than of the Augustinian. I think

that I have in the preceding portion of this dissertation cited from

the original texts enough of St. Augustine's own expressions, which

always revert to these constant formulas, _qui nobiscum sentiunt,

quos merito ceteris anteponimus_, to render it certainly and for

ever incontestable that in these passages it is St. Augustine who

_cum istis sentit_; it is he who _hos ceteris anteponit_; and by

consequence he it is who embraces, explains, and defends the Platonic

ideology, amending it where it sins, and supplying to it what it

lacks. But, conceding that there is a difficulty here in our way,

corroborated by an expression of the angelic doctor, I wish it to be

noted distinctly that I do not resolve it principally by alleging any

solitary expression whatever of the angel of the schools himself, but

by a series of formulæ as distinctly marked in their significance as

they are harmoniously located in the structure of his thought and of

his boundless learning. Whenever there shall be for the first time

produced a copious and well-arranged history of our philosophy, we

shall see among other things relating to that most glorious Aquinas,

a fact which gives lustre to his works, and is a memorable one in

human philosophy; and the fact, which is one completely manifest

and palpable, is this, that while he pays so little deference to

the Platonic philosophy, while he habitually interprets the ideas

of Plato only in the sense ascribed to them by Aristotle and other

philosophers, the most hostile to him; while, consequently, he does

not notice the Platonic ideology except to reject and confute it, he

nevertheless gives us to understand, and professes a hundred times,

that he has nothing to oppose to the ideology of St. Augustine; that

he agrees that it is not the secondary truths which serve as the rule

of our judgments, but rather the one only and primary truth which is

the divine light and God himself; that he agrees that our soul is

an image of God principally by the intelligence which we possess,

into which the light of that first and one truth falling produces

there an image of the intelligible things, as like as possible in

the spiritual order to that figure which bodies cast upon a mirror

by virtue of the exterior material light; that he agrees that our

intellect is like wax which receives the impression of the primary

truth as if from a seal; that he agrees that those universals from

which metaphysics works under the form of principles, mathematics

under the form of axioms, morals under the form of unchangeable,

imperishable laws, these universals, (_questi generali_,) I say,

and nothing else, St. Thomas admits to be eternal, in the eternal

light of the eternal truth, which is the light of the divine

intelligence.[118] Is there any great need of certifying that these

formulæ to which St. Thomas agrees are not a single one of them taken

from Aristotle, but are without exception taken from St. Augustine

himself? Therefore St. Thomas, who had to treat the ideology of

Plato, as it was presented to him, as absurd, sustains and honors as

much as we could wish the Augustinian ideology; that is to say, he

makes Augustinian and not Platonic the ideology of the eighth book of

_The City of God_.[119]

What should hinder us from passing for an instant to those other

books altogether similar to this one, _Of the Trinity_, _Of the

Literal Interpretation of Genesis_, and the _Confessions_? The last

five books of _The Trinity_ are, indeed, a complete ideology which

for novelty, sublimity, insight, and scientific force cannot be

equalled in the whole range of human science. I will cite only one

passage, however, which amid so many others is especially noteworthy,

that one, namely, in which Augustine protects and defends, (who would

believe it?) against Plato himself, that ideology which is nowadays

called Platonic. Here it may be seen in express words.

"Plato, that noble philosopher, ... related that a certain boy who

was asked some questions, I know not precisely what, in geometry,

answered like a person extremely skilled in that branch of study;

whence he attempted to prove that the souls of men have lived here

before they were in their present bodies.... But we ought rather

to believe that the nature of the intellectual mind was so created

that, being naturally coördinated by the Creator to intelligible

things, it sees them in a certain incorporeal light _sui generis_,

in the same way that the bodily eye sees those things which are

circumjacent to it in this corporeal light for which it has been

created with a natural capacity and congruity."[120]

This passage being only an incident in connection with the whole

context, we find him saying a little above that this incorporeal

light is nothing else than the truth; that these intelligible things

are the eternal reasons, and a little below, that this light and

these things are "something eternal and unchangeable;" that our soul

is made naturally in the image of God, inasmuch as "it can use reason

and intelligence to know and form a conception of God," and as noted

in another place, "although the mind is not of the same nature with

God, nevertheless the image of that nature which is more perfect than

any other must be sought and found in that part of our nature which

is more perfect than any other."[121]

Joining together and recapitulating all this in the _Confessions_, he

says in formal terms:

"Behold how much I have wandered about in my memory seeking thee,

O Lord! and I have not found thee outside of it; ... for where

I have found the truth, there I have found my God, the truth

itself."[122]

Moreover, in those most stupendous books of the _Literal

Interpretation of Genesis_, he undertakes to distinguish partitively

the vision in the light of the truth from all the other manners of

vision conceded to the nature of the human soul, and terminates with

a final contrast which presents the fundamental opposition between

the intelligent soul and its intellectual light in these words:

"Even in that kind of things seen by intellectual vision,

(_intellectualium visorum_, understand here that which he is wont

to call _intellectum rationale_,) those which are seen in the

soul itself, as virtues, the contraries of which are vices, are

one thing; ... the light itself by which the soul is illuminated,

so that it is able to see in a true intellectual apprehension

all things either in itself (rational knowledge) or in that

(intellectual knowledge;) for that indeed is God himself; but this

created existence, although made rational and intelligent (these

two terms correspond to the two members, _either in itself, or in

that_) after his image, when it attempts to gaze upon that light

trembles with weakness, and can do but little; yet it derives

from thence whatever it does understand according to its ability.

When, therefore, it is rapt into that region, and, being withdrawn

from the senses, is brought more directly face to face with that

vision, not by any local presence in space, but in a manner

peculiar to itself; it even sees in a way superior to its ordinary

power that by the aid of which it also sees whatsoever it does see

in itself by understanding."[123]

The few moments which remain to me will barely suffice for the

briefest possible exposition of the contrast between the belligerent

ideology of modern Catholics and the certain and incontestable

ideology founded by the prince of all our philosophers, of which

I have just given a sketch in his own words. I feel bound to say

one thing here which has probably not been attended to, but is

nevertheless not the less true or the less demonstrable to a wise

critical judgment. However much it is to be lamented that the modern

philosophy of the Catholic masters, through a miserable obliviousness

of St. Augustine and St. Thomas, has brought once more into vogue

and patronized so long, in great measure so blindly also, the Gentile

dispute between the ideology of Plato and that of Aristotle; this

most obstinate war, more bitterly waged in our day than ever before,

has no right to be considered as excusable. Whoever will look a

little into the interior of this matter, will be persuaded that

the great mass of questions of this kind should rather be regarded

as vain and superfluous, than as founded on unreasonable or unjust

opinions. The Catholic ontologists and the Catholic psychologists

sustain one and the same thing in two contrary parties; but that

which all in common wish to maintain appears to the members of one

party to be badly comprehended and worse defined by those of the

other. All say unanimously, We ought to hold that theory alone as

good and perfect in which is maintained the capital distinction

between God and his creation; in which is firmly established the

knowledge of God on the one hand, and that of things created on the

other; in which neither the reality of the divine nature, which is

the principle of every other reality, nor the reality of that which

is created, apart from which that principle itself is no longer

such, and all knowledge is overturned and destroyed from summit to

foundation, is compromised. This all profess and maintain. But when

it comes to the definition of a theory sufficient for such a lofty

scope, the one party divide themselves from the other through the

diverse aspect in which they regard, on the one side, that most

sublime and universal truth which they hold as anterior to the mind,

and, on the other side, the multitude of created natures which are

perceived by the internal or external sensible faculty. To make my

meaning clearer, there are two points to be made secure in ideology:

the truth by which all things which are true exist; and the true

things which furnish the argument by which their principle, that

is, the truth, is proved. The psychologists observe the following

maxim, which is irreprehensible. It is impossible to prove the

existence of the creator without asserting and proving the existence

of the creation; since we cannot attain to the scientific notion

of the truth except by the medium of the knowledge of actualities.

The ontologists contemplate the matter from another entirely

diverse side, reasoning with equal evidence in this form. To know

a thing to a certain extent, is to distinguish to the same extent

whether it be true or false; but we must necessarily distinguish

whether a thing be true or false by the light of truth--_the truth,

however, is God_; therefore, without an interior and divine light,

neither man nor angel can know any thing whatsoever. But take

care, exclaim the psychologists, that you do not by such a method

destroy physical cognition; in fact, if every thing is known in the

truth, which is eternal and immutable, created things, which are

mutable and temporal, cannot be known at all. You ought rather to

take much greater care, reply the ontologists, lest by your mode

of reasoning you deny and destroy metaphysical cognition; in fact,

the universal cannot be any kind of created thing, since every

creature is completely individual and particular; wherefore, it

follows, from your statement, that the universals are nothing either

physically or metaphysically. The psychologists rejoin by saying,

God in creating things renders them knowable; therefore, when we

know them, this comes from the fact that they are thus created--that

is, precisely knowable. The ontologists with equal force respond,

We agree entirely that created things are knowable because they

are created; but since they would not be created except for the

divine action of the creator, so they would not be any more knowable

except for the divine action which creates their knowledge in the

human mind; wherefore, in the same way as the drawing of a substance

from nothing requires omnipotence, which is entirely from God, the

giving of intelligence to a created spirit requires the truth, which

is entirely from God, and is God himself. But, reply again the

psychologists, you are obliged to admit the reality of the created

apart from the divine reality; therefore, also, its cognoscibility.

And you, reply the ontologists, ought further to maintain the

contra-position of intelligence to sensibility. We, who profess that

the intelligibility of things consists in a divine light, easily

secure the contra-position of intelligence and sensibility by means

of the contra-position of God and created substances visible in

the creation; whereas, taking away the divine light, the creation

alone remains to form the object of the sensibility on one part,

and the object of intelligence on the other. But in that case it

is impossible to secure one's self scientifically, logically,

demonstratively, as is necessary, from confounding intellect with

sense, which results--note it well!--in the denial of the creation

of man itself, and the reduction to nullity not less of revealed

religion than of natural morality.[124]

I will not proceed any further, but will leave it to the historians

of Catholic philosophy to continue, if they see fit, this chain of

parallel arguments, which describe the whole cause of combat between

the two great modern schools. The sketch I have given will, I hope,

suffice to convince you, first of all, of that which is chiefly

commendable, honorable, and worthy of attention in this dispute,

which, in many other respects, is so excessively wearisome. I have

demonstrated that the two contrary parties look toward one and the

same end--which is, to make valid in ideology the Catholic principle

of creation; that both govern themselves by the same criterion--which

is, the genuine and Catholic interpretation of the principle of

creation, more or less known naturally, and perfectly defined in

Catholic doctrine. All this is due to the praise of the two schools,

and to the glory of that philosophy to which both pride themselves

in belonging. This, however, would go but a little way toward the

attainment of that peace at the present day so necessary, and always

so desirable. Since, therefore, all truths are in agreement with

each other, and are harmoniously united in one only and self-same

truth, I have consequently wished to demonstrate by actual proofs

that, aside from human weakness and the errors of certain teachers

on both sides, the living and substantial arguments on either side

which are brought forward in an opposite sense are not really opposed

to each other, being drawn from the difference of terms, and the

fact that they apprehend and contemplate from opposite sides that

truth which is, above all others, universal and comprehensive in the

principle common to both parties. This consideration, most powerful

for promoting the peace we all desire and recommend, ought so much

the more to be held as good and sound, as the Augustinian formula

in which all the force of Catholic philosophy is concentrated with

the most luminous evidence, appears divided into two parts, and

distributed between the argumentation of the two opposite schools.

For, while the one sustains that first clause which forbids to take

away from the senses their proper capacity--_neque sensibus adimentes

id quod possunt_--the other stands firmly by the last clause, which

declares that the light of the mind is God, _lumen autem mentium ad

discenda omnia esse ipsum Deum a quo facta sunt omnia_. But would

it not be a great fault of the ideologists, to whatever school they

might belong, if they should wilfully dismember and destroy the

organism of Christian protology? Is it, perhaps, not true that the

Catholic masters of modern psychologism and ontologism all completely

agree in that maxim, as new in itself as it is felicitous for the

whole human encyclopædia, and clearly distinct to us?

"The whole discipline of wisdom pertaining to the instruction

of man is the correct discrimination of the creator from the

creation; the worship of the one as possessing supreme dominion,

and the acknowledgment of the simple subjection of the other."[125]

Let us then bring these things back to their origin, and the

philosophers of our times will recognize that they have much the

advantage in antiquity and merit of the philosophers of another class

who are the chiefs of natural science; the psychologists will observe

that they have a psychological formation in St. Thomas against which

Catholic ontologism cannot have any just complaints; on the other

hand, the ontologists will observe that there is an ontological form

in St. Augustine to which nothing is wanting of that which Catholic

psychologism can hold as correct. The time is past for beginning

philosophy over again _da capo_; whoever wishes to participate in it,

let him gather it from the most choice, weighty, and authoritative

traditions. That peace which for so many ages it has been impossible

to conclude, was already made centuries ago. There was no ideological

dispute, (whoever maintained that there was?)--no! there was only

diversity of method of exposition and of language, between St.

Augustine and his most faithful disciple, who was in every sense

the Angelical; and this was wrought by the infinite Providence, so

that Catholic intellect might remake philosophy twice over by the

two opposite ways, from intelligence to sense, and from sense to

intelligence. It is a shame to mention the Platonists with dispraise,

when our glory is a Catholic Plato; it is a vile thing to lose one's

self in reproaches against Aristotle, after that a Catholic Aristotle

has filled the whole church with the fame of his wisdom.

The learned Caramuele affirmed that if that ancient Plato of

heathenism could have seen the Aristotle who diverged from him so

widely, as St. Thomas re-cast him, corrected and entirely altered,

he would have been forced to applaud him, and to declare himself

satisfied with him. Cardinal Sigismund Gerdil announced and

demonstrated[126] that in the ideology of St. Thomas more than one

principle is encountered wonderfully conformed to the principles of

St. Augustine. The _Scuola di Filosofia Razionale_ of the excellent

F. Milone is for this reason more precious and valuable in my eyes,

that he, contrary to Gioberti, who is only one among numberless

others, marks out a theory of peace between the ontological and

psychological method, between St. Augustine and St. Thomas. It is

a matter of the most transparent certainty that, if the ontologism

of Catholic authors is reduced to a profession of the philosophical

doctrines of St. Augustine, well understood and better exposed and

elucidated, nothing can be more secure and more respectable among

Catholics than ontologism; nor is it less certain and transparent

that, if the psychologism of Catholic authors turns to a maintenance

of the philosophical doctrines of St. Thomas, well and symmetrically

arranged, and with fine language reduced to science and made

accessible to our age, nothing can be more adapted to our time, or

more suitable, or more irreprehensible than the same psychologism.

Let Catholic philosophers follow the example of the holy church, who,

since the time of St. Augustine and St. Thomas, has turned toward no

one a regard more steady and fixed than to Augustine and Thomas.

In the name of these most authoritative and most blessed doctors,

I pray for Catholic philosophy the just and desired tranquillity,

which can only be obtained from a direction less arbitrary in the

selection of questions, and more capable of embracing all the grand

problems. Ideology distinguishes naturally between the objective and

the subjective; in it the ontologists are accustomed to establish

with sound reasoning the objectivity of the truth, and likewise the

psychologists the subjectivity of signs and knowledge. If both the

one and the other desire to become victors in such a grand combat,

let them make place, as they ought, the ontologists to larger

considerations respecting the created, _non adimentes sensibus id

quod possunt_; and the psychologists to a greater security of the

intelligibility of things, _non dantes sensibus ultra quam possunt_.

Then, the choice will be free to all to select between the two

opposite methods, and they can, in respect to that divine light,

_quo illustratur anima_, profess indifferently the original formula

of Catholic ontologism in St. Augustine, or the imitative exposition

of Catholic psychologism in St. Thomas. With these peace-makers, so

glorious, so well-deserving, so venerable, it appears to me that we

ought at once to treat of peace. May these saints aid from heaven my

humble undertaking!

FOOTNOTES:

[112] Rom. i. 19, 20; Acts xvii. 28; Colos. ii. 8. These texts

are given according to St. Augustine's rendering. This gives

"a constitutione mundi" instead of "a creatura mundi," as in

the Vulgate. The author, following St. Augustine, Tertullian,

and Cardinal Tolet, understands St. Paul to say that God has

been manifested to men through his works ever since the world

began.--_Abridged from the note of the author._

[113] _De Civ. Dei_, lib. viii.; (1) cap. 1; (2) cap. 4; (3) cap. 5;

(4) cap. 10; (5) cap. 9. This last quotation is abridged.--_Trans._

[114] _Civ. Dei_, lib. viii. cap. 9.

[115] _Ibid._, lib. viii. cap. 10.

[116] Thomassin, _Dogm. Theol. de Deo_. Martin, _S. Aur. Aug.

Hipponen. Epis. Philosophia_. Ed. Jul. Fabre. Parisiis. 1863.

[117] _Civ. Dei_, lib. viii. c. 7.

[118] Nothing is more noteworthy than this passage of the _Summa_.

(Pars Prima, Qu. 15, a. 1, ad. 1.) Et sic etiam Aristoteles, lib. 3.

Metaphys. improbat opinionem Platonis de ideis, secundum quod ponebat

eas per se existentes, non in intellectu. In many other places, St.

Thomas cites the doctrines of Plato on the faith of Aristotle. In

support of the allegations of the text, consult the _Summa_. P. 1,

qu. 16, a. 6. _Ibid._ ad. 1, et qu. 12, a. 2, et qu. 88, a. 3, ad. 1.

_Ibid._ qu. 84, a. 5. _Ibid._ qu. 16, a. 7.

[119] F. Milone, in his Neapolitan edition, adds the following note:

"Throughout this entire passage we find a mixture of the Platonic and

the Augustinian, (p. 1, qu. 15, a. 3,) where St. Thomas appears to

intend to collect from St. Augustine the true meaning of Plato, or

again to remand to Plato the admirable design of the ideology of St.

Augustine. Sed contra, ideæ sunt rationes in mente divina existentes,

ut per Augustinum patet; sed omnium quæ cognoscit, Deus habet

proprias rationes; ergo omnium quæ cognoscit habet ideam. Respondeo

dicendum, quod cum ideæ a Platone ponerentur principia cognitionis

rerum et generationis ipsarum, ad utrumque se habet idea prout in

mente divina ponitur. Et secundum quod est principium factionis

rerum, exemplar dici potest, et ad practicam cognitionem pertinet;

secundum autem quod principium cognoscitivum est, proprie dicitur

ratio, et potest etiam ad scientiam speculativum pertinere. There is

not, I say, in all our own Marsilius, a more respectful and favorable

comment upon Plato; but the key is found in that observation on

which the whole thing depends, _ut per Augustinum patet_." Worthy

of consideration under this head are also the articles 3, 4, and 5,

under the 79th question.

[120] _De Trin._ lib. xii. § 24. _Vide etiam Retract._ lib. 1 cap. 4.

Arnob. _Contra Gentes_, lib. 11. § 14. Tertull. _De Anima_, cap. 24

and 28.

[121] _De Trin._ lib. xii. § 2, 3, 5, 12, 23. _Ibid._ lib. xv. § 10.

_Ibid._ lib. xiv. § 6, 11.

[122] Lib. x. cap. 24.

[123] _De Gen. ad Litt._ lib. xii. cap. 31, § 59.

[124] The _Civilta Cattolica_, (series v. vol. viii. 585) seems

to have wished to continue the series of these opposing arguments

of the antagonistic schools, where, in the name of those whom I

call psychologists, it speaks thus: "To maintain the essential

distinction between the sense and the intellect, it is not necessary

to attribute to the latter the immediate perception of a divine

object, as, to maintain the essential distinction between the body

and the spirit, it is not necessary to ascribe to the second a

divine existence. It suffices that as the spirit is differentiated

from the body by the immateriality of its essence, so the intellect

should be differentiated from the sense by the immateriality of its

cognoscitive power." If it be so, the ontologists will respond, that

in the above passage the word _sense_ signifies only that with which

we perceive bodies; so that to sense is given as its term or object

that which is corporeal, and to intellect that which is spiritual.

Now, S. Augustine had at first adopted the same language; but

afterward he recognized its imperfection, and in his _Retractations_

(lib. i. cap. 1, 3, 4) declares that the word sense ought to include

also the _intimate sense_ with which the soul perceives what passes

within itself. Then this has as object that which is spiritual.

Therefore the spirituality of its object cannot any longer serve to

differentiate intellect from sense. (Vid. _La Scuola_ of F. Milone,

p. 32, et seq.)

[125] St. Aug. lib. 83, Quæst. ad qu. 81.

[126] _Difesa di Malebr._ diss. prelim. § 25.

MY CHRISTMAS GIFT.

On the eve of Christmas Day,

Ere the moon began to rise,

I fell to dreaming.

When a fairy did display,

Spread before my wond'ring eyes,

Bright jewels gleaming

Like the stars at night.

Then to me--"Choose which to send

As a present to your friend,

And thus your friendship plight."

Ah! how rare the jewels seemed

Ere those words were spoken.

After, I no longer deemed

Gems a fitting token.

"Jewels may her garments grace:

'Tis not there that I would place

Something to remind her thought

Of the friendship of my heart.

Not all gems that may be bought

Would of that be counterpart."

"Hoity, toity!" said the fairy,

"This is extraordinary!

Don't you know 'tis customary?"

"Yes," said I; "but on this morn

Could I but her _heart_ adorn

With some little gift of mine,

Then 'twould have a fitting shrine."

Gathering up her jewels rare,

Said the fairy, "Don't despair.

Send her what her heart can wear."

Reaching out my eager hand--

"Have you in all fairy-land

Such a boon at my command?"

Raising up her eyes to heaven--

"Only there such gifts are given.

Gifts that make the heart more fair

God bestows. The price--a prayer."

God knows the prayer is said, my friend.

I doubt not He the gift will send.

A HERO, OR A HEROINE?