General answer to Mr. Kingsley
From the time that I became a Catholic, of course I have no further
history of my religious opinions to narrate. In saying this, I do not
mean to say that my mind has been idle, or that I have given up
thinking on theological subjects; but that I have had no changes to
record, and have had no anxiety of heart whatever. I have been in
perfect peace and contentment. I never have had one doubt. I was
not conscious to myself, on my conversion, of any difference of
thought or of temper from what I had before. I was not conscious of
firmer faith in the fundamental truths of revelation, or of more
self-command; I had not more fervour; but it was like coming into
port after a rough sea; and my happiness on that score remains to
this day without interruption.
Nor had I any trouble about receiving those additional articles,
which are not found in the Anglican Creed. Some of them I believed
already, but not any one of them was a trial to me. I made a
profession of them upon my reception with the greatest ease, and I
have the same ease in believing them now. I am far of course from
denying that every article of the Christian Creed, whether as held by
Catholics or by Protestants, is beset with intellectual difficulties;
and it is simple fact, that, for myself, I cannot answer those
difficulties. Many persons are very sensitive of the difficulties of
religion; I am as sensitive as any one; but I have never been able to
see a connection between apprehending those difficulties, however
keenly, and multiplying them to any extent, and doubting the
doctrines to which they are attached. Ten thousand difficulties do
not make one doubt, as I understand the subject; difficulty and
doubt are incommensurate. There of course may be difficulties in
the evidence; but I am speaking of difficulties intrinsic to the
doctrines, or to their compatibility with each other. A man may be
annoyed that he cannot work out a mathematical problem, of which the
answer is or is not given to him, without doubting that it admits of
an answer, or that a particular answer is the true one. Of all points
of faith, the being of a God is, to my own apprehension, encompassed
with most difficulty, and borne in upon our minds with most power.
People say that the doctrine of Transubstantiation is difficult to
believe; I did not believe the doctrine till I was a Catholic. I had
no difficulty in believing it as soon as I believed that the Catholic
Roman Church was the oracle of God, and that she had declared this
doctrine to be part of the original revelation. It is difficult,
impossible to imagine, I grant--but how is it difficult to believe?
Yet Macaulay thought it so difficult to believe, that he had need of
a believer in it of talents as eminent as Sir Thomas More, before he
could bring himself to conceive that the Catholics of an enlightened
age could resist "the overwhelming force of the argument against it."
"Sir Thomas More," he says, "is one of the choice specimens of wisdom
and virtue; and the doctrine of transubstantiation is a kind of proof
charge. A faith which stands that test, will stand any test." But for
myself, I cannot indeed prove it, I cannot tell _how_ it is; but I
say, "Why should it not be? What's to hinder it? What do I know of
substance or matter? just as much as the greatest philosophers, and
that is nothing at all;"--so much is this the case, that there is a
rising school of philosophy now, which considers phenomena to
constitute the whole of our knowledge in physics. The Catholic
doctrine leaves phenomena alone. It does not say that the phenomena
go; on the contrary, it says that they remain: nor does it say that
the same phenomena are in several places at once. It deals with what
no one on earth knows anything about, the material substances
themselves. And, in like manner, of that majestic article of the
Anglican as well as of the Catholic Creed--the doctrine of the
Trinity in Unity. What do I know of the essence of the Divine Being?
I know that my abstract idea of three is simply incompatible with my
idea of one; but when I come to the question of concrete fact, I have
no means of proving that there is not a sense in which one and three
can equally be predicated of the Incommunicable God.
But I am going to take upon myself the responsibility of more than
the mere creed of the Church; as the parties accusing me are
determined I shall do. They say, that now, in that I am a Catholic,
though I may not have offences of my own against honesty to answer
for, yet, at least, I am answerable for the offences of others, of my
co-religionists, of my brother priests, of the Church herself. I am
quite willing to accept the responsibility; and, as I have been able,
as I trust, by means of a few words, to dissipate, in the minds of
all those who do not begin with disbelieving me, the suspicion with
which so many Protestants start, in forming their judgment of
Catholics, viz. that our creed is actually set up in inevitable
superstition and hypocrisy, as the original sin of Catholicism; so
now I will go on, as before, identifying myself with the Church and
vindicating it--not of course denying the enormous mass of sin and
ignorance which exists of necessity in that world-wide multiform
communion--but going to the proof of this one point, that its system
is in no sense dishonest, and that therefore the upholders and
teachers of that system, as such, have a claim to be acquitted in
their own persons of that odious imputation.
Starting then with the being of a God (which, as I have said, is as
certain to me as the certainty of my own existence, though when I try
to put the grounds of that certainty into logical shape I find a
difficulty in doing so in mood and figure to my satisfaction), I look
out of myself into the world of men, and there I see a sight which
fills me with unspeakable distress. The world seems simply to give
the lie to that great truth, of which my whole being is so full; and
the effect upon me is, in consequence, as a matter of necessity, as
confusing as if it denied that I am in existence myself. If I looked
into a mirror, and did not see my face, I should have the sort of
feeling which actually comes upon me, when I look into this living
busy world, and see no reflexion of its Creator. This is, to me, one
of the great difficulties of this absolute primary truth, to which I
referred just now. Were it not for this voice, speaking so clearly in
my conscience and my heart, I should be an atheist, or a pantheist,
or a polytheist when I looked into the world. I am speaking for
myself only; and I am far from denying the real force of the
arguments in proof of a God, drawn from the general facts of human
society, but these do not warm me or enlighten me; they do not take
away the winter of my desolation, or make the buds unfold and the
leaves grow within me, and my moral being rejoice. The sight of the
world is nothing else than the prophet's scroll, full of
"lamentations, and mourning, and woe."
To consider the world in its length and breadth, its various history,
the many races of man, their starts, their fortunes, their mutual
alienation, their conflicts; and then their ways, habits,
governments, forms of worship; their enterprises, their aimless
courses, their random achievements and acquirements, the impotent
conclusion of long-standing facts, the tokens so faint and broken,
of a superintending design, the blind evolution of what turn out
to be great powers or truths, the progress of things, as if from
unreasoning elements, not towards final causes, the greatness and
littleness of man, his far-reaching aims, his short duration, the
curtain hung over his futurity, the disappointments of life, the
defeat of good, the success of evil, physical pain, mental anguish,
the prevalence and intensity of sin, the pervading idolatries, the
corruptions, the dreary hopeless irreligion, that condition of the
whole race, so fearfully yet exactly described in the Apostle's
words, "having no hope and without God in the world,"--all this is a
vision to dizzy and appal; and inflicts upon the mind the sense of a
profound mystery, which is absolutely beyond human solution.
What shall be said to this heart-piercing, reason-bewildering fact? I
can only answer, that either there is no Creator, or this living
society of men is in a true sense discarded from His presence. Did I
see a boy of good make and mind, with the tokens on him of a refined
nature, cast upon the world without provision, unable to say whence
he came, his birthplace or his family connections, I should conclude
that there was some mystery connected with his history, and that he
was one, of whom, from one cause or other, his parents were ashamed.
Thus only should I be able to account for the contrast between the
promise and condition of his being. And so I argue about the
world;--_if_ there be a God, _since_ there is a God, the human race
is implicated in some terrible aboriginal calamity. It is out of
joint with the purposes of its Creator. This is a fact, a fact as
true as the fact of its existence; and thus the doctrine of what is
theologically called original sin becomes to me almost as certain as
that the world exists, and as the existence of God.
And now, supposing it were the blessed and loving will of the Creator
to interfere in this anarchical condition of things, what are we to
suppose would be the methods which might be necessarily or naturally
involved in His object of mercy? Since the world is in so abnormal a
state, surely it would be no surprise to me, if the interposition
were of necessity equally extraordinary--or what is called
miraculous. But that subject does not directly come into the scope of
my present remarks. Miracles as evidence, involve an argument; and of
course I am thinking of some means which does not immediately run
into argument. I am rather asking what must be the face-to-face
antagonist, by which to withstand and baffle the fierce energy of
passion and the all-corroding, all-dissolving scepticism of the
intellect in religious inquiries? I have no intention at all to deny,
that truth is the real object of our reason, and that, if it does not
attain to truth, either the premiss or the process is in fault; but I
am not speaking of right reason, but of reason as it acts in fact and
concretely in fallen man. I know that even the unaided reason, when
correctly exercised, leads to a belief in God, in the immortality of
the soul, and in a future retribution; but I am considering it
actually and historically; and in this point of view, I do not think
I am wrong in saying that its tendency is towards a simple unbelief
in matters of religion. No truth, however sacred, can stand against
it, in the long run; and hence it is that in the pagan world, when
our Lord came, the last traces of the religious knowledge of former
times were all but disappearing from those portions of the world in
which the intellect had been active and had had a career.
And in these latter days, in like manner, outside the Catholic Church
things are tending, with far greater rapidity than in that old time
from the circumstance of the age, to atheism in one shape or other.
What a scene, what a prospect, does the whole of Europe present at
this day! and not only Europe, but every government and every
civilization through the world, which is under the influence of the
European mind! Especially, for it most concerns us, how sorrowful, in
the view of religion, even taken in its most elementary, most
attenuated form, is the spectacle presented to us by the educated
intellect of England, France, and Germany! Lovers of their country
and of their race, religious men, external to the Catholic Church,
have attempted various expedients to arrest fierce wilful human
nature in its onward course, and to bring it into subjection. The
necessity of some form of religion for the interests of humanity, has
been generally acknowledged: but where was the concrete
representative of things invisible, which would have the force and
the toughness necessary to be a breakwater against the deluge? Three
centuries ago the establishment of religion, material, legal, and
social, was generally adopted as the best expedient for the purpose,
in those countries which separated from the Catholic Church; and for
a long time it was successful; but now the crevices of those
establishments are admitting the enemy. Thirty years ago, education
was relied upon: ten years ago there was a hope that wars would cease
for ever, under the influence of commercial enterprise and the reign
of the useful and fine arts; but will any one venture to say that
there is anything anywhere on this earth, which will afford a fulcrum
for us, whereby to keep the earth from moving onwards?
The judgment, which experience passes on establishments or education,
as a means of maintaining religious truth in this anarchical world,
must be extended even to Scripture, though Scripture be divine.
Experience proves surely that the Bible does not answer a purpose,
for which it was never intended. It may be accidentally the means of
the conversion of individuals; but a book, after all, cannot make a
stand against the wild living intellect of man, and in this day it
begins to testify, as regards its own structure and contents, to the
power of that universal solvent, which is so successfully acting upon
religious establishments.
Supposing then it to be the Will of the Creator to interfere in human
affairs, and to make provisions for retaining in the world a
knowledge of Himself, so definite and distinct as to be proof against
the energy of human scepticism, in such a case--I am far from saying
that there was no other way--but there is nothing to surprise the
mind, if He should think fit to introduce a power into the world,
invested with the prerogative of infallibility in religious matters.
Such a provision would be a direct, immediate, active, and prompt
means of withstanding the difficulty; it would be an instrument
suited to the need; and, when I find that this is the very claim of
the Catholic Church, not only do I feel no difficulty in admitting
the idea, but there is a fitness in it, which recommends it to my
mind. And thus I am brought to speak of the Church's infallibility,
as a provision, adapted by the mercy of the Creator, to preserve
religion in the world, and to restrain that freedom of thought, which
of course in itself is one of the greatest of our natural gifts, and
to rescue it from its own suicidal excesses. And let it be observed
that, neither here nor in what follows, shall I have occasion to
speak directly of the revealed body of truths, but only as they bear
upon the defence of natural religion. I say, that a power, possessed
of infallibility in religious teaching, is happily adapted to be
a working instrument, in the course of human affairs, for smiting
hard and throwing back the immense energy of the aggressive
intellect:--and in saying this, as in the other things that I have to
say, it must still be recollected that I am all along bearing in mind
my main purpose, which is a defence of myself.
I am defending myself here from a plausible charge brought against
Catholics, as will be seen better as I proceed. The charge is
this:--that I, as a Catholic, not only make profession to hold
doctrines which I cannot possibly believe in my heart, but that I
also believe in the existence of a power on earth, which at its own
will imposes upon men any new set of _credenda_, when it pleases, by
a claim to infallibility; in consequence, that my own thoughts are
not my own property; that I cannot tell that tomorrow I may not have
to give up what I hold today, and that the necessary effect of such
a condition of mind must be a degrading bondage, or a bitter inward
rebellion relieving itself in secret infidelity, or the necessity of
ignoring the whole subject of religion in a sort of disgust, and of
mechanically saying everything that the Church says, and leaving to
others the defence of it. As then I have above spoken of the relation
of my mind towards the Catholic Creed, so now I shall speak of the
attitude which it takes up in the view of the Church's infallibility.
And first, the initial doctrine of the infallible teacher must be an
emphatic protest against the existing state of mankind. Man had
rebelled against his Maker. It was this that caused the divine
interposition: and the first act of the divinely accredited messenger
must be to proclaim it. The Church must denounce rebellion as of all
possible evils the greatest. She must have no terms with it; if she
would be true to her Master, she must ban and anathematise it. This
is the meaning of a statement which has furnished matter for one of
those special accusations to which I am at present replying: I have,
however, no fault at all to confess in regard to it; I have nothing
to withdraw, and in consequence I here deliberately repeat it. I
said, "The Catholic Church holds it better for the sun and moon to
drop from heaven, for the earth to fail, and for all the many
millions on it to die of starvation in extremest agony, as far as
temporal affliction goes, than that one soul, I will not say, should
be lost, but should commit one single venial sin, should tell one
wilful untruth, or should steal one poor farthing without excuse." I
think the principle here enunciated to be the mere preamble in the
formal credentials of the Catholic Church, as an Act of Parliament
might begin with a "_Whereas_." It is because of the intensity of the
evil which has possession of mankind, that a suitable antagonist
has been provided against it; and the initial act of that
divinely-commissioned power is of course to deliver her challenge
and to defy the enemy. Such a preamble then gives a meaning to her
position in the world, and an interpretation to her whole course of
teaching and action.
In like manner she has ever put forth, with most energetic
distinctness, those other great elementary truths, which either are
an explanation of her mission or give a character to her work. She
does not teach that human nature is irreclaimable, else wherefore
should she be sent? not that it is to be shattered and reversed, but
to be extricated, purified, and restored; not that it is a mere mass
of evil, but that it has the promise of great things, and even now
has a virtue and a praise proper to itself. But in the next place
she knows and she preaches that such a restoration, as she aims at
effecting in it, must be brought about, not simply through any
outward provision of preaching and teaching, even though it be her
own, but from a certain inward spiritual power or grace imparted
directly from above, and which is in her keeping. She has it in
charge to rescue human nature from its misery, but not simply by
raising it upon its own level, but by lifting it up to a higher level
than its own. She recognises in it real moral excellence though
degraded, but she cannot set it free from earth except by exalting it
towards heaven. It was for this end that a renovating grace was put
into her hands, and therefore from the nature of the gift, as well as
from the reasonableness of the case, she goes on, as a further point,
to insist, that all true conversion must begin with the first springs
of thought, and to teach that each individual man must be in his own
person one whole and perfect temple of God, while he is also one of
the living stones which build up a visible religious community. And
thus the distinctions between nature and grace, and between outward
and inward religion, become two further articles in what I have
called the preamble of her divine commission.
Such truths as these she vigorously reiterates, and pertinaciously
inflicts upon mankind; as to such she observes no half-measures, no
economical reserve, no delicacy or prudence. "Ye must be born again,"
is the simple, direct form of words which she uses after her Divine
Master; "your whole nature must be re-born, your passions, and your
affections, and your aims, and your conscience, and your will, must
all be bathed in a new element, and reconsecrated to your Maker, and,
the last not the least, your intellect." It was for repeating these
points of her teaching in my own way, that certain passages of one of
my volumes have been brought into the general accusation which has
been made against my religious opinions. The writer has said that I
was demented if I believed, and unprincipled if I did not believe, in
my statement that a lazy, ragged, filthy, story-telling beggar-woman,
if chaste, sober, cheerful, and religious, had a prospect of heaven,
which was absolutely closed to an accomplished statesman, or lawyer,
or noble, be he ever so just, upright, generous, honourable, and
conscientious, unless he had also some portion of the divine
Christian grace; yet I should have thought myself defended from
criticism by the words which our Lord used to the chief priests,
"The publicans and harlots go into the kingdom of God before you."
And I was subjected again to the same alternative of imputations,
for having ventured to say that consent to an unchaste wish was
indefinitely more heinous than any lie viewed apart from its causes,
its motives, and its consequences; though a lie, viewed under the
limitation of these conditions, is a random utterance, an almost
outward act, not directly from the heart, however disgraceful it may
be, whereas we have the express words of our Lord to the doctrine
that "whoso looketh on a woman to lust after her, hath committed
adultery with her already in his heart." On the strength of these
texts I have surely as much right to believe in these doctrines
as to believe in the doctrine of original sin, or that there is a
supernatural revelation, or that a Divine Person suffered, or that
punishment is eternal.
Passing now from what I have called the preamble of that grant of
power, with which the Church is invested, to that power itself,
Infallibility, I make two brief remarks: on the one hand, I am not
here determining anything about the essential seat of that power,
because that is a question doctrinal, not historical and practical;
nor, on the other hand, am I extending the direct subject-matter,
over which that power has jurisdiction, beyond religious
opinion:--and now as to the power itself.
This power, viewed in its fulness, is as tremendous as the giant evil
which has called for it. It claims, when brought into exercise in the
legitimate manner, for otherwise of course it is but dormant, to have
for itself a sure guidance into the very meaning of every portion of
the divine message in detail, which was committed by our Lord to His
Apostles. It claims to know its own limits, and to decide what it can
determine absolutely and what it cannot. It claims, moreover, to have
a hold upon statements not directly religious, so far as this, to
determine whether they indirectly relate to religion, and, according
to its own definitive judgment, to pronounce whether or not, in a
particular case, they are consistent with revealed truth. It claims
to decide magisterially, whether infallibly or not, that such and
such statements are or are not prejudicial to the apostolic
_depositum_ of faith, in their spirit or in their consequences, and
to allow them, or condemn and forbid them, accordingly. It claims to
impose silence at will on any matters, or controversies, of doctrine,
which on its own _ipse dixit_, it pronounces to be dangerous,
or inexpedient, or inopportune. It claims that whatever may be the
judgment of Catholics upon such acts, these acts should be received
by them with those outward marks of reverence, submission, and
loyalty, which Englishmen, for instance, pay to the presence of their
sovereign, without public criticism on them, as being in their matter
inexpedient, or in their manner violent or harsh. And lastly, it
claims to have the right of inflicting spiritual punishment, of
cutting off from the ordinary channels of the divine life, and of
simply excommunicating, those who refuse to submit themselves to its
formal declarations. Such is the infallibility lodged in the Catholic
Church, viewed in the concrete, as clothed and surrounded by the
appendages of its high sovereignty: it is, to repeat what I said
above, a supereminent prodigious power sent upon earth to encounter
and master a giant evil.
And now, having thus described it, I profess my own absolute
submission to its claim. I believe the whole revealed dogma as taught
by the apostles, as committed by the apostles to the Church, and
as declared by the Church to me. I receive it, as it is infallibly
interpreted by the authority to whom it is thus committed, and
(implicitly) as it shall be, in like manner, further interpreted by
that same authority till the end of time. I submit, moreover, to the
universally received traditions of the Church, in which lies the
matter of those new dogmatic definitions which are from time to time
made, and which in all times are the clothing and the illustration of
the Catholic dogma as already defined. And I submit myself to those
other decisions of the holy see, theological or not, through the
organs which it has itself appointed, which, waiving the question of
their infallibility, on the lowest ground come to me with a claim to
be accepted and obeyed. Also, I consider that, gradually and in the
course of ages, Catholic inquiry has taken certain definite shapes,
and has thrown itself into the form of a science, with a method and
a phraseology of its own, under the intellectual handling of great
minds, such as St. Athanasius, St. Augustine, and St. Thomas; and
I feel no temptation at all to break in pieces the great legacy of
thought thus committed to us for these latter days.
All this being considered as the profession _ex animo_, as on my own
part, so also on the part of the Catholic body, as far as I know it,
it will at first sight be said that the restless intellect of our
common humanity is utterly weighed down to the repression of all
independent effort and action whatever, so that, if this is to be the
mode of bringing it into order, it is brought into order only to be
destroyed. But this is far from the result, far from what I conceive
to be the intention of that high Providence who has provided a great
remedy for a great evil--far from borne out by the history of the
conflict between infallibility and reason in the past, and the
prospect of it in the future. The energy of the human intellect "does
from opposition grow;" it thrives and is joyous, with a tough elastic
strength, under the terrible blows of the divinely-fashioned weapon,
and is never so much itself as when it has lately been overthrown. It
is the custom with Protestant writers to consider that, whereas there
are two great principles in action in the history of religion,
Authority and Private Judgment, they have all the Private Judgment to
themselves, and we have the full inheritance and the superincumbent
oppression of Authority. But this is not so; it is the vast Catholic
body itself, and it only, which affords an arena for both combatants
in that awful, never-dying duel. It is necessary for the very life
of religion, viewed in its large operations and its history, that
the warfare should be incessantly carried on. Every exercise of
Infallibility is brought out into act by an intense and varied
operation of the Reason, from within and without, and provokes again
a re-action of Reason against it; and, as in a civil polity the
State exists and endures by means of the rivalry and collision, the
encroachments and defeats of its constituent parts, so in like manner
Catholic Christendom is no simple exhibition of religious absolutism,
but it presents a continuous picture of Authority and Private
Judgment alternately advancing and retreating as the ebb and flow of
the tide;--it is a vast assemblage of human beings with wilful
intellects and wild passions, brought together into one by the beauty
and the majesty of a superhuman power--into what may be called a
large reformatory or training-school, not to be sent to bed, not to
be buried alive, but for the melting, refining, and moulding, as in
some moral factory, by an incessant noisy process (if I may proceed
to another metaphor), of the raw material of human nature, so
excellent, so dangerous, so capable of divine purposes.
St. Paul says in one place that his apostolical power is given him to
edification, and not to destruction. There can be no better account
of the Infallibility of the Church. It is a supply for a need, and it
does not go beyond that need. Its object is, and its effect also,
not to enfeeble the freedom or vigour of human thought in religious
speculation, but to resist and control its extravagance. What have
been its great works? All of them in the distinct province of
theology:--to put down Arianism, Eutychianism, Pelagianism,
Manichaeism, Lutheranism, Jansenism. Such is the broad result of its
action in the past;--and now as to the securities which are given us
that so it ever will act in time to come.
First, infallibility cannot act outside of a definite circle of
thought, and it must in all its decisions, or _definitions_, as they
are called, profess to be keeping within it. The great truths of the
moral law, of natural religion, and of apostolical faith, are both
its boundary and its foundation. It must not go beyond them, and it
must ever appeal to them. Both its subject-matter, and its articles
in that subject-matter, are fixed. Thus, in illustration, it does not
extend to statements, however sound and evident, which are mere
logical conclusions from the articles of the apostolic _Depositum_;
again, it can pronounce nothing about the persons of heretics, whose
works fall within its legitimate province. It must ever profess
to be guided by Scripture and by tradition. It must refer to the
particular apostolic truth which it is enforcing, or (what is called)
_defining_. Nothing, then, can be presented to me, in time to come,
as part of the faith, but what I ought already to have received, and
have not actually received, (if not) merely because it has not been
told me. Nothing can be imposed upon me different in kind from what I
hold already--much less contrary to it. The new truth which is
promulgated, if it is to be called new, must be at least homogeneous,
cognate, implicit, viewed relatively to the old truth. It must be
what I may even have guessed, or wished, to be included in the
apostolic revelation; and at least it will be of such a character,
that my thoughts readily concur in it or coalesce with it, as soon as
I hear it. Perhaps I and others actually have always believed it, and
the only question which is now decided in my behalf, is that I am
henceforth to believe that I have only been holding what the apostles
held before me.
Let me take the doctrine which Protestants consider our greatest
difficulty, that of the Immaculate Conception. Here I entreat
the reader to recollect my main drift, which is this. I have no
difficulty in receiving it: if _I_ have no difficulty, why may not
another have no difficulty also? why may not a hundred? a thousand?
Now I am sure that Catholics in general have not any intellectual
difficulty at all on the subject of the Immaculate Conception; and
that there is no reason why they should. Priests have no difficulty.
You tell me that they _ought_ to have a difficulty;--but they have
not. Be large-minded enough to believe, that men may reason and feel
very differently from yourselves; how is it that men fall, when left
to themselves, into such various forms of religion, except that there
are various types of mind among them, very distinct from each other?
From my testimony then about myself, if you believe it, judge of
others also who are Catholics: we do not find the difficulties which
you do in the doctrines which we hold; we have no intellectual
difficulty in that in particular, which you call a novelty of this
day. We priests need not be hypocrites, though we be called upon to
believe in the Immaculate Conception. To that large class of minds,
who believe in Christianity, after our manner,--in the particular
temper, spirit, and light (whatever word is used) in which Catholics
believe it--there is no burden at all in holding that the Blessed
Virgin was conceived without original sin; indeed, it is a simple
fact to say, that Catholics have not come to believe it because it is
defined, but it was defined because they believed it.
So far from the definition in 1854 being a tyrannical infliction on
the Catholic world, it was received everywhere on its promulgation
with the greatest enthusiasm. It was in consequence of the unanimous
petition, presented from all parts to the holy see, in behalf of a
declaration that the doctrine was apostolic, that it was declared so
to be. I never heard of one Catholic having difficulties in receiving
it, whose faith on other grounds was not already suspicious. Of
course there were grave and good men, who were made anxious by the
doubt whether it could be proved apostolical either by Scripture or
tradition, and who accordingly, though believing it themselves, did
not see how it could be defined by authority; but this is another
matter. The point in question is, whether the doctrine is a burden.
I believe it to be none. So far from it being so, I sincerely think
that St. Bernard and St. Thomas, who scrupled at it in their day, had
they lived into this, would have rejoiced to accept it for its own
sake. Their difficulty, as I view it, consisted in matters of words,
ideas, and arguments. They thought the doctrine inconsistent with
other doctrines; and those who defended it in that age had not that
precision in their view of it, which has been given to it by means of
the long controversy of the centuries which followed. And hence the
difference of opinion, and the controversy.
Now the instance which I have been taking suggests another remark;
the number of those (so called) new doctrines will not oppress us,
if it takes eight centuries to promulgate even one of them. Such is
about the length of time through which the preparation has been
carried on for the definition of the Immaculate Conception. This of
course is an extraordinary case; but it is difficult to say what is
ordinary, considering how few are the formal occasions on which the
voice of infallibility has been solemnly lifted up. It is to the
Pope in ecumenical council that we look, as to the normal seat of
infallibility: now there have been only eighteen such councils since
Christianity was--an average of one to a century--and of these
councils some passed no doctrinal decree at all, others were employed
on only one, and many of them were concerned with only elementary
points of the Creed. The Council of Trent embraced a large field of
doctrine certainly; but I should apply to its canons a remark
contained in that University Sermon of mine, which has been so
ignorantly criticised in the pamphlet which has led to my writing;--I
there have said that the various verses of the Athanasian Creed are
only repetitions in various shapes of one and the same idea; and in
like manner, the Tridentine decrees are not isolated from each other,
but are occupied in bringing out in detail, by a number of separate
declarations, as if into bodily form, a few necessary truths. I
should make the same remark on the various theses condemned by popes,
and on their dogmatic decisions generally. I acknowledge that at
first sight they seem from their number to be a greater burden to the
faith of individuals than are the canons of councils; still I do not
believe in matter of fact that they are so at all, and I give this
reason for it:--it is not that a Catholic, layman or priest, is
indifferent to the subject, or, from a sort of recklessness, will
accept anything that is placed before him, or is willing, like
a lawyer, to speak according to his brief, but that in such
condemnations the holy see is engaged, for the most part, in
repudiating one or two great lines of error, such as Lutheranism or
Jansenism, principally ethical not doctrinal, which are foreign to
the Catholic mind, and that it is expressing what any good Catholic,
of fair abilities, though unlearned, would say himself, from common
and sound sense, if the matter could be put before him.
Now I will go on in fairness to say what I think _is_ the great trial
to the reason, when confronted with that august prerogative of the
Catholic Church, of which I have been speaking. I enlarged just now
upon the concrete shape and circumstances, under which pure
infallible authority presents itself to the Catholic. That authority
has the prerogative of an indirect jurisdiction on subject-matters
which lie beyond its own proper limits, and it most reasonably has
such a jurisdiction. It could not act in its own province, unless it
had a right to act out of it. It could not properly defend religious
truth, without claiming for it what may be called its _pomoeria_;
or, to take another illustration, without acting as we act, as a
nation, in claiming as our own, not only the land on which we live,
but what are called British waters. The Catholic Church claims, not
only to judge infallibly on religious questions, but to animadvert on
opinions in secular matters which bear upon religion, on matters of
philosophy, of science, of literature, of history, and it demands our
submission to her claim. It claims to censure books, to silence
authors, and to forbid discussions. In all this it does not so much
speak doctrinally, as enforce measures of discipline. It must of
course be obeyed without a word, and perhaps in process of time it
will tacitly recede from its own injunctions. In such cases the
question of faith does not come in; for what is matter of faith is
true for all times, and never can be unsaid. Nor does it at all
follow, because there is a gift of infallibility in the Catholic
Church, that therefore the power in possession of it is in all its
proceedings infallible. "O, it is excellent," says the poet, "to have
a giant's strength, but tyrannous, to use it like a giant." I think
history supplies us with instances in the Church, where legitimate
power has been harshly used. To make such admission is no more than
saying that the divine treasure, in the words of the apostle, is "in
earthen vessels;" nor does it follow that the substance of the acts
of the ruling power is not right and expedient, because its manner
may have been faulty. Such high authorities act by means of
instruments; we know how such instruments claim for themselves the
name of their principals, who thus get the credit of faults which
really are not theirs. But granting all this to an extent greater
than can with any show of reason be imputed to the ruling power in
the Church, what is there in this want of prudence or moderation more
than can be urged, with far greater justice, against Protestant
communities and institutions? What is there in it to make us
hypocrites, if it has not that effect upon Protestants? We are called
upon, not to profess anything, but to submit and be silent. Such
injunctions as I have supposed are laid merely upon our actions, not
upon our thoughts. How, for instance, does it tend to make a man a
hypocrite, to be forbidden to publish a libel? his thoughts are as
free as before: authoritative prohibitions may tease and irritate,
but they have no bearing whatever upon the exercise of reason.
So much at first sight; but I will go on to say further, that,
in spite of all that the most hostile critic may say upon the
encroachments or severities of high ecclesiastics, in times past, in
the use of their power, I think that the event has shown after all,
that they were mainly in the right, and that those whom they were
hard upon mainly in the wrong. I love, for instance, the name of
Origen: I will not listen to the notion that so great a soul was
lost; but I am quite sure that, in the contest between his doctrine
and his followers and ecclesiastical power, his opponents were right,
and he was wrong. Yet who can speak with patience of his enemy
and the enemy of St. John Chrysostom, that Theophilus, bishop of
Alexandria? who can admire or revere Pope Vigilius? And here
another consideration presents itself to my thoughts. In reading
ecclesiastical history, when I was an Anglican, it used to be
forcibly brought home to me, how the initial error of what afterwards
became heresy was the urging forward some truth against the
prohibition of authority at an unseasonable time. There is a time for
everything, and many a man desires a reformation of an abuse, or the
fuller development of a doctrine, or the adoption of a particular
policy, but forgets to ask himself whether the right time for it is
come; and, knowing that there is no one who will do anything towards
it in his own lifetime unless he does it himself, he will not listen
to the voice of authority, and spoils a good work in his own century,
that another man, as yet unborn, may not bring it happily to
perfection in the next. He may seem to the world to be nothing else
than a bold champion for the truth and a martyr to free opinion, when
he is just one of those persons whom the competent authority ought to
silence, and, though the case may not fall within that subject-matter
in which it is infallible, or the formal conditions of the exercise
of that gift may be wanting, it is clearly the duty of authority to
act vigorously in the case. Yet that act will go down to posterity as
an instance of a tyrannical interference with private judgment, and
of the silencing of a reformer, and of a base love of corruption or
error; and it will show still less to advantage, if the ruling power
happens in its proceedings to act with any defect of prudence or
consideration. And all those who take the part of that ruling
authority will be considered as time-servers, or indifferent to the
cause of uprightness and truth; while, on the other hand, the said
authority may be supported by a violent ultra party, which exalts
opinions into dogmas, and has it principally at heart to destroy
every school of thought but its own.
Such a state of things may be provoking and discouraging at the time,
in the case of two classes of persons; of moderate men who wish to
make differences in religious opinion as little as they fairly can
be made; and of such as keenly perceive, and are honestly eager to
remedy, existing evils--evils, of which divines in this or that
foreign country know nothing at all, and which even at home it is not
every one who has the means of estimating. This is a state of things
both of past time and of the present. We live in a wonderful age; the
enlargement of the circle of secular knowledge just now is simply
a bewilderment, and the more so, because it has the promise of
continuing, and that with greater rapidity, and more signal results.
Now these discoveries, certain or probable, have in matter of fact an
indirect bearing upon religious opinions, and the question arises how
are the respective claims of revelation and of natural science to be
adjusted. Few minds in earnest can remain at ease without some sort
of rational grounds for their religious belief; to reconcile theory
and fact is almost an instinct of the mind. When then a flood of
facts, ascertained or suspected, comes pouring in upon us, with a
multitude of others in prospect, all believers in revelation, be
they Catholic or not, are roused to consider their bearing upon
themselves, both for the honour of God, and from tenderness for those
many souls who, in consequence of the confident tone of the schools
of secular knowledge, are in danger of being led away into a
bottomless liberalism of thought.
I am not going to criticise here that vast body of men, in the mass,
who at this time would profess to be liberals in religion; and who
look towards the discoveries of the age, certain or in progress, as
their informants, direct or indirect, as to what they shall think
about the unseen and the future. The Liberalism which gives a colour
to society now, is very different from that character of thought
which bore the name thirty or forty years ago. It is scarcely now a
party; it is the educated lay world. When I was young, I knew the
word first as giving name to a periodical, set up by Lord Byron and
others. Now, as then, I have no sympathy with the philosophy of
Byron. Afterwards, Liberalism was the badge of a theological school,
of a dry and repulsive character, not very dangerous in itself,
though dangerous as opening the door to evils which it did not itself
either anticipate or comprehend. Now it is nothing else than that
deep, plausible scepticism, of which I spoke above, as being the
development of human reason, as practically exercised by the natural
man.
The Liberal religionists of this day are a very mixed body, and
therefore I am not intending to speak against them. There may be, and
doubtless is, in the hearts of some or many of them a real antipathy
or anger against revealed truth, which it is distressing to think of.
Again; in many men of science or literature there may be an animosity
arising from almost a personal feeling; it being a matter of party, a
point of honour, the excitement of a game, or a consequence of
soreness or annoyance occasioned by the acrimony or narrowness of
apologists for religion, to prove that Christianity or that Scripture
is untrustworthy. Many scientific and literary men, on the other
hand, go on, I am confident, in a straightforward impartial way, in
their own province and on their own line of thought, without any
disturbance from religious opinion in themselves, or any wish at all
to give pain to others by the result of their investigations. It
would ill become me, as if I were afraid of truth of any kind, to
blame those who pursue secular facts, by means of the reason which
God has given them, to their logical conclusions: or to be angry with
science because religion is bound to take cognizance of its teaching.
But putting these particular classes of men aside, as having no
special call on the sympathy of the Catholic, of course he does most
deeply enter into the feelings of a fourth and large class of men, in
the educated portions of society, of religious and sincere minds, who
are simply perplexed--frightened or rendered desperate, as the case
may be--by the utter confusion into which late discoveries or
speculations have thrown their most elementary ideas of religion. Who
does not feel for such men? who can have one unkind thought of them?
I take up St. Augustine's beautiful words, "Illi in vos saeviant,"
etc. Let them be fierce with you who have no experience of the
difficulty with which error is discriminated from truth, and the way
of life is found amid the illusions of the world. How many Catholics
have in their thoughts followed such men, many of them so good, so
true, so noble! how often has the wish risen in their hearts that
some one from among themselves should come forward as the champion of
revealed truth against its opponents! Various persons, Catholic and
Protestant, have asked me to do so myself; but I had several strong
difficulties in the way. One of the greatest is this, that at the
moment it is so difficult to say precisely what it is that is to be
encountered and overthrown. I am far from denying that scientific
knowledge is really growing, but it is by fits and starts; hypotheses
rise and fall; it is difficult to anticipate which will keep their
ground, and what the state of knowledge in relation to them will be
from year to year. In this condition of things, it has seemed to me
to be very undignified for a Catholic to commit himself to the work
of chasing what might turn out to be phantoms, and in behalf of some
special objections, to be ingenious in devising a theory, which,
before it was completed, might have to give place to some theory
newer still, from the fact that those former objections had already
come to nought under the uprising of others. It seemed to be a time
of all others, in which Christians had a call to be patient, in which
they had no other way of helping those who were alarmed, than that of
exhorting them to have a little faith and fortitude, and to "beware,"
as the poet says, "of dangerous steps." This seemed so clear to me,
the more I thought, as to make me surmise, that, if I attempted what
had so little promise in it, I should find that the highest Catholic
authority was against the attempt, and that I should have spent my
time and my thought, in doing what either it would be imprudent to
bring before the public at all, or what, did I do so, would only
complicate matters further which were already complicated more than
enough. And I interpret recent acts of that authority as fulfilling
my expectation; I interpret them as tying the hands of a
controversialist, such as I should be, and teaching us that true
wisdom, which Moses inculcated on his people, when the Egyptians were
pursuing them, "Fear ye not, stand still; the Lord shall fight for
you, and ye shall hold your peace." And so far from finding a
difficulty in obeying in this case, I have cause to be thankful and
to rejoice to have so clear a direction in a matter of difficulty.
But if we would ascertain with correctness the real course of a
principle, we must look at it at a certain distance, and as history
represents it to us. Nothing carried on by human instruments, but has
its irregularities, and affords ground for criticism, when minutely
scrutinised in matters of detail. I have been speaking of that aspect
of the action of an infallible authority, which is most open to
invidious criticism from those who view it from without; I have tried
to be fair, in estimating what can be said to its disadvantage, as
witnessed in the Catholic Church, and now I wish its adversaries to
be equally fair in their judgment upon its historical character. Can,
then, the infallible authority, with any show of reason, be said in
fact to have destroyed the energy of the intellect in the Catholic
Church? Let it be observed, I have not to speak of any conflict which
ecclesiastical authority has had with science, for there has been
none such, because the secular sciences, as they now exist, are a
novelty in the world, and there has been no time yet for a history of
relations between theology and these new methods of knowledge, and
indeed the Church may be said to have kept clear of them, as is
proved by the constantly cited case of Galileo. Here "exceptio probat
regulam:" for it is the one stock argument. Again, I have not to
speak of any relations of the Church to the new sciences, because my
simple question is whether the assumption of infallibility by the
proper authority is adapted to make me a hypocrite, and till that
authority passes decrees on pure physical subjects and calls on me
to subscribe them (which it never will do, because it has not the
power), it has no tendency by its acts to interfere with my private
judgment on those points. The simple question is whether authority
has so acted upon the reason of individuals, that they can have no
opinion of their own, and have but an alternative of slavish
superstition or secret rebellion of heart; and I think the whole
history of theology puts an absolute negative upon such a
supposition. It is hardly necessary to argue out so plain a point. It
is individuals, and not the holy see, who have taken the initiative,
and given the lead to Catholic minds, in theological inquiry. Indeed,
it is one of the reproaches urged against the Church of Rome, that it
has originated nothing, and has only served as a sort of _remora_ or
break in the development of doctrine. And it is an objection which I
embrace as a truth; for such I conceive to be the main purpose of its
extraordinary gift. It is said, and truly, that the Church of Rome
possessed no great mind in the whole period of persecution.
Afterwards for a long while, it has not a single doctor to show; St.
Leo, its first, is the teacher of one point of doctrine; St. Gregory,
who stands at the very extremity of the first age of the Church, has
no place in dogma or philosophy. The great luminary of the western
world is, as we know, St. Augustine; he, no infallible teacher, has
formed the intellect of Europe; indeed to the African Church
generally we must look for the best early exposition of Latin ideas.
The case is the same as regards the ecumenical councils. Authority
in its most imposing exhibition, grave bishops, laden with the
traditions and rivalries of particular nations or places, have been
guided in their decisions by the commanding genius of individuals,
sometimes young and of inferior rank. Not that uninspired intellect
overruled the super-human gift which was committed to the council,
which would be a self-contradictory assertion, but that in that
process of inquiry and deliberation, which ended in an infallible
enunciation, individual reason was paramount. Thus the writings of
St. Bonaventura, and, what is more to the point, the address of a
priest and theologian, Salmeron, at Trent, had a critical effect on
some of the definitions of dogmas. Parallel to this is the influence,
so well known, of a young deacon, St. Athanasius, with the 318
Fathers at Nicaea. In like manner we hear of the influence of St.
Anselm at Bari, and St. Thomas at Lyons. In the latter cases the
influence might be partly moral, but in the former it was that of a
discursive knowledge of ecclesiastical writers, a scientific
acquaintance with theology, and a force of thought in the treatment
of doctrine.
There are of course intellectual habits which theology does not
tend to form, as for instance the experimental, and again the
philosophical; but that is because it _is_ theology, not because of
the gift of infallibility. But, as far as this goes, I think it could
be shown that physical science on the other hand, or mathematical,
affords but an imperfect training for the intellect. I do not see
then how any objection about the narrowness of theology comes into
our question, which simply is, whether the belief in an infallible
authority destroys the independence of the mind; and I consider that
the whole history of the Church, and especially the history of the
theological schools, gives a negative to the accusation. There never
was a time when the intellect of the educated class was more active,
or rather more restless, than in the middle ages. And then again
all through Church history from the first, how slow is authority
in interfering! Perhaps a local teacher, or a doctor in some local
school, hazards a proposition, and a controversy ensues. It smoulders
or burns in one place, no one interposing; Rome simply lets it alone.
Then it comes before a Bishop; or some priest, or some professor in
some other seat of learning takes it up; and then there is a second
stage of it. Then it comes before a University, and it may be
condemned by the theological faculty. So the controversy proceeds
year after year, and Rome is still silent. An appeal perhaps is next
made to a seat of authority inferior to Rome; and then at last after
a long while it comes before the supreme power. Meanwhile, the
question has been ventilated and turned over and over again, and
viewed on every side of it, and authority is called upon to pronounce
a decision, which has already been arrived at by reason. But even
then, perhaps the supreme authority hesitates to do so, and nothing
is determined on the point for years; or so generally and vaguely,
that the whole controversy has to be gone through again, before it is
ultimately determined. It is manifest how a mode of proceeding, such
as this, tends not only to the liberty, but to the courage, of the
individual theologian or controversialist. Many a man has ideas,
which he hopes are true, and useful for his day, but he wishes to
have them discussed. He is willing or rather would be thankful to
give them up, if they can be proved to be erroneous or dangerous, and
by means of controversy he obtains his end. He is answered, and he
yields; or he finds that he is considered safe. He would not dare to
do this, if he knew an authority, which was supreme and final, was
watching every word he said, and made signs of assent or dissent to
each sentence, as he uttered it. Then indeed he would be fighting, as
the Persian soldiers, under the lash, and the freedom of his
intellect might truly be said to be beaten out of him. But this has
not been so:--I do not mean to say that, when controversies run high,
in schools or even in small portions of the Church, an interposition
may not rightly take place; and again, questions may be of that
urgent nature, that an appeal must, as a matter of duty, be made at
once to the highest authority in the Church; but, if we look into the
history of controversy, we shall find, I think, the general run of
things to be such as I have represented it. Zosimus treated Pelagius
and Coelestius with extreme forbearance; St. Gregory VII. was
equally indulgent with Berengarius; by reason of the very power of
the popes they have commonly been slow and moderate in their use of
it.
And here again is a further shelter for the individual reason:--the
multitude of nations who are in the fold of the Church will be found
to have acted for its protection, against any narrowness, if so,
in the various authorities at Rome, with whom lies the practical
decision of controverted questions. How have the Greek traditions
been respected and provided for in the later Ecumenical Councils, in
spite of the countries that held them being in a state of schism!
There are important points of doctrine which have been (humanly
speaking) exempted from the infallible sentence, by the tenderness
with which its instruments, in framing it, have treated the opinions
of particular places. Then, again, such national influences have a
providential effect in moderating the bias which the local influences
of Italy may exert upon the See of St. Peter. It stands to reason
that, as the Gallican Church has in it an element of France, so Rome
must have an element of Italy; and it is no prejudice to the zeal and
devotion with which we submit ourselves to the holy see to admit this
plainly. It seems to me, as I have been saying, that Catholicity is
not only one of the notes of the Church, but, according to the divine
purposes, one of its securities. I think it would be a very serious
evil, which Divine Mercy avert! that the Church should be contracted
in Europe within the range of particular nationalities. It is a great
idea to introduce Latin civilization into America, and to improve
the Catholics there by the energy of French religion; but I trust
that all European races will have ever a place in the Church, and
assuredly I think that the loss of the English, not to say the
German element, in its composition has been a most serious evil.
And certainly, if there is one consideration more than another which
should make us English grateful to Pius the Ninth, it is that, by
giving us a Church of our own, he has prepared the way for our own
habits of mind, our own manner of reasoning, our own tastes, and our
own virtues, finding a place and thereby a sanctification, in the
Catholic Church.
There is only one other subject, which I think it necessary to
introduce here, as bearing upon the vague suspicions which are
attached in this country to the Catholic priesthood. It is one of
which my accuser says much, the charge of reserve and economy. He
founds it in no slight degree on what I have said on the subject in
my History of the Arians, and in a note upon one of my sermons in
which I refer to it. The principle of reserve is also advocated by an
admirable writer in two numbers of the Tracts for the Times.
Now, as to the economy itself, I leave the greater part of what I
have to say to an Appendix. Here I will but say that it is founded
upon the words of our Lord, "Cast not your pearls before swine;"
and it was observed by the early Christians more or less in their
intercourse with the heathen populations among whom they lived. In
the midst of the abominable idolatries and impurities of that fearful
time, they could not do otherwise. But the rule of the economy, at
least as I have explained and recommended it, did not go beyond (1)
the concealing the truth when we could do so without deceit, (2)
stating it only partially, and (3) representing it under the nearest
form possible to a learner or inquirer, when he could not possibly
understand it exactly. I conceive that to draw angels with wings is
an instance of the third of these economical modes; and to avoid the
question, "Do Christians believe in a Trinity?" by answering, "They
believe in only one God," would be an instance of the second. As to
the first, it is hardly an economy, but comes under what is called
the "Disciplina Arcani." The second and third economical modes
Clement calls _lying_; meaning that a partial truth is in some sense
a lie, and so also is a representative truth. And this, I think, is
about the long and the short of the ground of the accusation which
has been so violently urged against me, as being a patron of the
economy.
Of late years I have come to think, as I believe most writers do,
that Clement meant more than I have said. I used to think he used the
word "lie" as an hyperbole, but I now believe that he, as other early
Fathers, thought that, under certain circumstances, it was lawful
to tell a lie. This doctrine I never maintained, though I used to
think, as I do now, that the theory of the subject is surrounded with
considerable difficulty; and it is not strange that I should say so,
considering that great English writers simply declare that in certain
extreme cases, as to save life, honour, or even property, a lie is
allowable. And thus I am brought to the direct question of truth, and
the truthfulness of Catholic priests generally in their dealings with
the world, as bearing on the general question of their honesty, and
their internal belief in their religious professions.
It would answer no purpose, and it would be departing from the line
of writing which I have been observing all along, if I entered into
any formal discussion on the subject; what I shall do here, as I have
done in the foregoing pages, is to give my own testimony on the
matter in question, and there to leave it. Now first I will say,
that, when I became a Catholic, nothing struck me more at once than
the English out-spoken manner of the priests. It was the same at
Oscott, at Old Hall Green, at Ushaw; there was nothing of that
smoothness, or mannerism, which is commonly imputed to them, and they
were more natural and unaffected than many an Anglican clergyman. The
many years, which have passed since, have only confirmed my first
impression. I have ever found it in the priests of this Diocese; did
I wish to point out a straightforward Englishman, I should instance
the Bishop, who has, to our great benefit, for so many years presided
over it.
And next, I was struck, when I had more opportunity of judging of the
Priests, by the simple faith in the Catholic Creed and system of
which they always gave evidence, and which they never seemed to feel,
in any sense at all, to be a burden. And now that I have been in the
Church nineteen years, I cannot recollect hearing of a single
instance in England of an infidel priest. Of course there are men
from time to time, who leave the Catholic Church for another
religion, but I am speaking of cases, when a man keeps a fair outside
to the world and is a hollow hypocrite in his heart.
I wonder that the self-devotion of our priests does not strike
Protestants in this point of view. What do they gain by professing a
Creed, in which, if my assailant is to be believed, they really do
not believe? What is their reward for committing themselves to a
life of self-restraint and toil, and after all to a premature and
miserable death? The Irish fever cut off between Liverpool and Leeds
thirty priests and more, young men in the flower of their days, old
men who seemed entitled to some quiet time after their long toil.
There was a bishop cut off in the North; but what had a man of his
ecclesiastical rank to do with the drudgery and danger of sick calls,
except that Christian faith and charity constrained him? Priests
volunteered for the dangerous service. It was the same on the first
coming of the cholera, that mysterious awe-inspiring infliction.
If priests did not heartily believe in the Creed of the Church,
then I will say that the remark of the apostle had its fullest
illustration:--"If in this life only we have hope in Christ, we are
of all men most miserable." What could support a set of hypocrites in
the presence of a deadly disorder, one of them following another in
long order up the forlorn hope, and one after another perishing? And
such, I may say, in its substance, is every mission-priest's life. He
is ever ready to sacrifice himself for his people. Night and day,
sick or well himself, in all weathers, off he is, on the news of a
sick call. The fact of a parishioner dying without the sacraments
through his fault is terrible to him; why terrible, if he has not a
deep absolute faith, which he acts upon with a free service?
Protestants admire this, when they see it; but they do not seem to
see as clearly, that it excludes the very notion of hypocrisy.
Sometimes, when they reflect upon it, it leads them to remark on the
wonderful discipline of the Catholic priesthood; they say that no
Church has so well ordered a clergy, and that in that respect it
surpasses their own; they wish they could have such exact discipline
among themselves. But is it an excellence which can be purchased? is
it a phenomenon which depends on nothing else than itself, or is it
an effect which has a cause? You cannot buy devotion at a price. "It
hath never been heard of in the land of Chanaan, neither hath it been
seen in Theman. The children of Agar, the merchants of Meran, none
of these have known its way." What then is that wonderful charm,
which makes a thousand men act all in one way, and infuses a prompt
obedience to rule, as if they were under some stern military
compulsion? How difficult to find an answer, unless you will allow
the obvious one, that they believe intensely what they profess!
I cannot think what it can be, in a day like this, which keeps up the
prejudice of this Protestant country against us, unless it be the
vague charges which are drawn from our books of moral theology; and
with a notice of the work in particular which my accuser especially
throws in our teeth, I shall in a very few words bring these
observations to a close.
St. Alfonso Liguori, it cannot be denied, lays down that an
equivocation, that is, a play upon words, in which one sense is taken
by the speaker, and another sense intended by him for the hearer, is
allowable, if there is a just cause, that is, in a special case, and
may even be confirmed by an oath. I shall give my opinion on this
point as plainly as any Protestant can wish; and therefore I avow at
once that in this department of morality, much as I admire the high
points of the Italian character, I like the English character better;
but, in saying so, I am not, as will be seen, saying anything
disrespectful to St. Alfonso, who was a lover of truth, and whose
intercession I trust I shall not lose, though, on the matter under
consideration, I follow other guidance in preference to his.
Now I make this remark first:--great English authors, Jeremy Taylor,
Milton, Paley, Johnson, men of very distinct schools of thought,
distinctly say, that under certain special circumstances it is
allowable to tell a lie. Taylor says: "To tell a lie for charity, to
save a man's life, the life of a friend, of a husband, of a prince,
of a useful and a public person, hath not only been done at all
times, but commended by great and wise and good men. Who would not
save his father's life, at the charge of a harmless lie, from
persecutors or tyrants?" Again, Milton says: "What man in his senses
would deny, that there are those whom we have the best grounds for
considering that we ought to deceive--as boys, madmen, the sick, the
intoxicated, enemies, men in error, thieves? I would ask, by which of
the commandments is a lie forbidden? You will say, by the ninth.
If then my lie does not injure my neighbour, certainly it is not
forbidden by this commandment." Paley says: "There are falsehoods,
which are not lies, that is, which are not criminal." Johnson: "The
general rule is, that truth should never be violated; there must,
however, be some exceptions. If, for instance, a murderer should ask
you which way a man is gone."
Now, I am not using these instances as an _argumentum ad hominem_;
but this is the use to which I put them:--
1. First, I have set down the distinct statements of Taylor, Milton,
Paley, and Johnson; now, would any one give ever so little weight to
these statements, in forming a real estimate of the veracity of the
writers, if they now were alive? Were a man, who is so fierce with
St. Alfonso, to meet Paley or Johnson tomorrow in society, would he
look upon him as a liar, a knave, as dishonest and untrustworthy?
I am sure he would not. Why then does he not deal out the same
measure to Catholic priests? If a copy of Scavini, which speaks
of equivocation as being in a just cause allowable, be found in
a student's room at Oscott, not Scavini himself, but the unhappy
student, who has what a Protestant calls a bad book in his
possession, is judged for life unworthy of credit. Are all Protestant
text-books at the University immaculate? Is it necessary to take for
gospel every word of Aristotle's Ethics, or every assertion of Hey or
Burnett on the Articles? Are text-books the ultimate authority, or
are they manuals in the hands of a lecturer, and the groundwork of
his remarks? But, again, let us suppose, not the case of a student,
or of a professor, but of Scavini himself, or of St. Alfonso; now
here again I ask, if you would not scruple in holding Paley for an
honest man, in spite of his defence of lying, why do you scruple at
St. Alfonso? I am perfectly sure that you would not scruple at Paley
personally; you might not agree with him, but you would call him a
bold thinker: then why should St. Alfonso's person be odious to you,
as well as his doctrine?
Now I wish to tell you why you are not afraid of Paley; because, you
would say, when he advocated lying, he was taking _special cases_.
You would have no fear of a man who you knew had shot a burglar dead
in his own house, because you know you are _not_ a burglar: so you
would not think that Paley had a habit of telling lies in society,
because in the case of a cruel alternative he thought it the lesser
evil to tell a lie. Then why do you show such suspicion of a
Catholic theologian, who speaks of certain special cases in which an
equivocation in a penitent cannot be visited by his confessor as if
it were a sin? for this is the exact point of the question.
But again, why does Paley, why does Jeremy Taylor, when no practical
matter is before him, lay down a maxim about the lawfulness of lying,
which will startle most readers? The reason is plain. He is forming a
theory of morals, and he must treat every question in turn as it
comes. And this is just what St. Alfonso or Scavini is doing. You
only try your hand yourself at a treatise on the rules of morality,
and you will see how difficult the work is. What is the _definition_
of a lie? Can you give a better than that it is a sin against
justice, as Taylor and Paley consider it? but, if so, how can it be a
sin at all, if your neighbour is not injured? If you do not like this
definition, take another; and then, by means of that, perhaps you
will be defending St. Alfonso's equivocation. However, this is what I
insist upon; that St. Alfonso, as Paley, is considering the different
portions of a large subject, and he must, on the subject of lying,
give his judgment, though on that subject it is difficult to form any
judgment which is satisfactory.
But further still: you must not suppose that a philosopher or
moralist uses in his own case the licence which his theory itself
would allow him. A man in his own person is guided by his own
conscience; but in drawing out a system of rules he is obliged to
go by logic, and follow the exact deduction of conclusion from
conclusion, and be sure that the whole system is coherent and one.
You hear of even immoral or irreligious books being written by men of
decent character; there is a late writer who says that David Hume's
sceptical works are not at all the picture of the man. A priest may
write a treatise which would be called really lax on the subject of
lying, which might come under the condemnation of the holy see, as
some treatises on that score have been condemned, and yet in his
own person be a rigorist. And, in fact, it is notorious from St.
Alfonso's Life, that he, who has the repute of being so lax a
moralist, had one of the most scrupulous and anxious of consciences
himself. Nay, further than this, he was originally in the Law, and on
one occasion he was betrayed into the commission of what seemed like
a deceit, though it was an accident; and that was the very occasion
of his leaving the profession and embracing the religious life.
The account of this remarkable occurrence is told us in his Life:--
"Notwithstanding he had carefully examined over and over the details
of the process, he was completely mistaken regarding the sense of one
document, which constituted the right of the adverse party. The
advocate of the Grand Duke perceived the mistake, but he allowed
Alfonso to continue his eloquent address to the end without
interruption; as soon, however, as he had finished, he rose, and said
with cutting coolness, 'Sir, the case is not exactly what you suppose
it to be; if you will review the process, and examine this paper
attentively, you will find there precisely the contrary of all you
have advanced.' 'Willingly,' replied Alfonso, without hesitating;
'the decision depends on this question--whether the fief were granted
under the law of Lombardy, or under the French Law.' The paper being
examined, it was found that the Grand Duke's advocate was in the
right. 'Yes,' said Alfonso, holding the paper in his hand, 'I am
wrong, I have been mistaken.' A discovery so unexpected, and the fear
of being accused of unfair dealing, filled him with consternation,
and covered him with confusion, so much so, that every one saw his
emotion. It was in vain that the President Caravita, who loved him,
and knew his integrity, tried to console him, by telling him that
such mistakes were not uncommon, even among the first men at the bar.
Alfonso would listen to nothing, but, overwhelmed with confusion, his
head sunk on his breast, he said to himself, 'World, I know you now;
courts of law, never shall you see me again!' And turning his back on
the assembly, he withdrew to his own house, incessantly repeating to
himself, 'World, I know you now.' What annoyed him most was, that
having studied and re-studied the process during a whole month,
without having discovered this important flaw, he could not
understand how it had escaped his observation."
And this is the man who is so flippantly pronounced to be a patron of
lying.
But, in truth, a Catholic theologian has objects in view which men in
general little compass; he is not thinking of himself, but of a
multitude of souls, sick souls, sinful souls, carried away by sin,
full of evil, and he is trying with all his might to rescue them from
their miserable state; and, in order to save them from more heinous
sins, he tries, to the full extent that his conscience will allow
him to go, to shut his eyes to such sins, as are, though sins, yet
lighter in character or degree. He knows perfectly well that, if he
is as strict as he would wish to be, he shall be able to do nothing
at all with the run of men; so he is as indulgent with them as ever
he can be. Let it not be for an instant supposed, that I allow of the
maxim of doing evil that good may come; but, keeping clear of this,
there is a way of winning men from greater sins by winking for the
time at the less, or at mere improprieties or faults; and this is the
key to the difficulty which Catholic books of moral theology so often
cause to the Protestant. They are intended for the confessor, and
Protestants view them as intended for the preacher.
2. And I observe upon Taylor, Milton, and Paley thus: What would a
Protestant clergyman say to me, if I accused him of teaching that a
lie was allowable; and if, when he asked for my proof, I said in
reply that Taylor and Milton so taught? Why, he would sharply retort,
"_I_ am not bound by Taylor or Milton;" and if I went on urging that
"Taylor was one of his authorities," he would answer that Taylor was
a great writer, but great writers were not therefore infallible. This
is pretty much the answer which I make, when I am considered in this
matter a disciple of St. Alfonso.
I plainly and positively state, and without any reserve, that I do
not at all follow this holy and charitable man in this portion of his
teaching. There are various schools of opinion allowed in the Church:
and on this point I follow others. I follow Cardinal Gerdil, and
Natalis Alexander, nay, St. Augustine. I will quote one passage from
Natalis Alexander:--"They certainly lie, who utter the words of an
oath, without the will to swear or bind themselves: or who make use
of mental reservations and _equivocations_ in swearing, since they
signify by words what they have not in mind, contrary to the end for
which language was instituted, viz. as signs of ideas. Or they mean
something else than the words signify in themselves and the common
custom of speech." And, to take an instance: I do not believe any
priest in England would dream of saying, "My friend is not here;"
meaning, "He is not in my pocket or under my shoe." Nor should any
consideration make me say so myself. I do not think St. Alfonso would
in his own case have said so; and he would have been as much shocked
at Taylor and Paley, as Protestants are at him.
And now, if Protestants wish to know what our real teaching is, as on
other subjects, so on that of lying, let them look, not at our books
of casuistry, but at our catechisms. Works on pathology do not give
the best insight into the form and the harmony of the human frame;
and, as it is with the body, so is it with the mind. The Catechism
of the Council of Trent was drawn up for the express purpose of
providing preachers with subjects for their sermons; and, as my whole
work has been a defence of myself, I may here say that I rarely
preach a sermon, but I go to this beautiful and complete Catechism to
get both my matter and my doctrine. There we find the following
notices about the duty of veracity:--
"'Thou shalt not bear false witness,' etc.: let attention be drawn to
two laws contained in this commandment:--the one, forbidding false
witness; the other bidding, that removing all pretence and deceits,
we should measure our words and deeds by simple truth, as the Apostle
admonished the Ephesians of that duty in these words: 'Doing truth in
charity, let us grow in Him through all things.'
"To deceive by a lie in joke or for the sake of compliment, though to
no one there accrues loss or gain in consequence, nevertheless is
altogether unworthy: for thus the Apostle admonishes, 'Putting aside
lying, speak ye truth.' For therein is great danger of lapsing into
frequent and more serious lying, and from lies in joke men gain the
habit of lying, whence they gain the character of not being truthful.
And thence again, in order to gain credit to their words, they find
it necessary to make a practice of swearing.
"Nothing is more necessary than truth of testimony, in those things,
which we neither know ourselves, nor can allowably be ignorant of,
on which point there is extant that maxim of St. Augustine's; Whoso
conceals the truth, and whoso puts forth a lie, each is guilty; the
one because he is not willing to do a service, the other because he
has a wish to do a mischief.
"It is lawful at times to be silent about the truth, but out of a
court of law; for in court, when a witness is interrogated by the
judge according to law, the truth is wholly to be brought out.
"Witnesses, however, must beware, lest, from over-confidence in their
memory, they affirm for certain, what they have not verified.
"In order that the faithful may with more good will avoid the sin of
lying, the Parish Priest shall set before them the extreme misery and
turpitude of this wickedness. For, in holy writ, the devil is called
the father of a lie; for, in that he did not remain in Truth, he is a
liar, and the father of a lie. He will add, with the view of ridding
men of so great a crime, the evils which follow upon lying; and,
whereas they are innumerable, he will point out [at least] the
sources and the general heads of these mischiefs and calamities, viz.
1. How great is God's displeasure and how great His hatred of a man
who is insincere and a liar. 2. What security there is that a man
who is specially hated by God may not be visited by the heaviest
punishments. 3. What more unclean and foul, as St. James says, than
... that a fountain by the same jet should send out sweet water and
bitter? 4. For that tongue, which just now praised God, next, as far
as in it lies, dishonours Him by lying. 5. In consequence, liars are
shut out from the possession of heavenly beatitude. 6. That too is
the worst evil of lying, that that disease of the mind is generally
incurable.
"Moreover, there is this harm too, and one of vast extent, and
touching men generally, that by insincerity and lying faith and truth
are lost, which are the firmest bonds of human society, and, when
they are lost, supreme confusion follows in life, so that men seem in
nothing to differ from devils.
"Lastly, the Parish Priest will set those right who excuse their
insincerity and allege the example of wise men, who, they say, are
used to lie for an occasion. He will tell them, what is most true,
that the wisdom of the flesh is death. He will exhort his hearers to
trust in God, when they are in difficulties and straits, nor to have
recourse to the expedient of a lie.
"They who throw the blame of their own lie on those who have already
by a lie deceived them, are to be taught that men must not revenge
themselves, nor make up for one evil by another." ...
There is much more in the Catechism to the same effect, and it is of
universal obligation; whereas the decision of a particular author in
morals need not be accepted by any one.
To one other authority I appeal on this subject, which commands from
me attention of a special kind, for they are the words of a Father.
They will serve to bring my work to a conclusion.
"St. Philip," says the Roman oratorian who wrote his Life, "had a
particular dislike of affectation both in himself and others, in
speaking, in dressing, or in anything else.
"He avoided all ceremony which savoured of worldly compliment, and
always showed himself a great stickler for Christian simplicity in
everything; so that, when he had to deal with men of worldly
prudence, he did not very readily accommodate himself to them.
"And he avoided, as much as possible, having anything to do with
_two-faced persons_, who did not go simply and straightforwardly to
work in their transactions.
"_As for liars, he could not endure them_, and he was _continually
reminding_ his spiritual children, _to avoid them as they would a
pestilence_."
These are the principles on which I have acted before I was a
Catholic; these are the principles which, I trust, will be my stay
and guidance to the end.
I have closed this history of myself with St. Philip's name upon St.
Philip's feast-day; and, having done so, to whom can I more suitably
offer it, as a memorial of affection and gratitude, than to St.
Philip's sons, my dearest brothers of this house, the priests of the
Birmingham Oratory, Ambrose St. John, Henry Austin Mills, Henry
Bittleston, Edward Caswall, William Paine Neville, and Henry Ignatius
Dudley Ryder? who have been so faithful to me; who have been so
sensitive of my needs; who have been so indulgent to my failings; who
have carried me through so many trials; who have grudged no
sacrifice, if I asked for it; who have been so cheerful under
discouragements of my causing; who have done so many good works, and
let me have the credit of them;--with whom I have lived so long, with
whom I hope to die.
And to you especially, dear Ambrose St. John; whom God gave me, when
He took every one else away; who are the link between my old life and
my new; who have now for twenty-one years been so devoted to me, so
patient, so zealous, so tender; who have let me lean so hard upon
you; who have watched me so narrowly; who have never thought of
yourself, if I was in question.
And in you I gather up and bear in memory those familiar affectionate
companions and counsellors, who in Oxford were given to me, one after
another, to be my daily solace and relief; and all those others, of
great name and high example, who were my thorough friends, and showed
me true attachment in times long past; and also those many younger
men, whether I knew them or not, who have never been disloyal to me
by word or by deed; and of all these, thus various in their relations
to me, those more especially who have since joined the Catholic
Church.
And I earnestly pray for this whole company, with a hope against
hope, that all of us, who once were so united, and so happy in our
union, may even now be brought at length, by the Power of the Divine
Will, into One Fold and under One Shepherd.
May 26, 1864.
In Festo Corp. Christ.
Appendix
Answer in Detail to Mr. Kingsley's Accusations
In proceeding now, according to the engagement with which I entered
upon my undertaking, to examine in detail the Pamphlet which has been
written against me, I am very sorry to be obliged to say, that it is
as slovenly and random and futile in its definite charges, as it is
iniquitous in its method of disputation. And now I proceed to show
this without any delay; and shall consider in order,
1. My Sermon on the Apostolical Christian.
2. My Sermon on Wisdom and Innocence.
3. The Anglican Church.
4. The Lives of the English Saints.
5. Ecclesiastical miracles.
6. Popular Religion.
7. The Economy.
8. Lying and Equivocation.
1. My Sermon on "The Apostolical Christian," being the 19th of
"Sermons on Subjects of the Day"
This writer says, "What Dr. Newman means by Christians ... he has
not left in doubt;" and then, quoting a passage from this sermon
which speaks of "the humble monk and the holy nun" being "Christians
after the very pattern given us in Scripture," he observes, "This is
his _definition_ of Christians."--p. 9.
This is not the case. I have neither given a definition, nor implied
one, nor intended one; nor could I, either now or in 1843-4, or
at any time, allow of the particular definition he ascribes to me. As
if all Christians must be monks or nuns!