the sacrament. The term sacrament in theological language is applied
as conveying the idea of an instrument of grace. Hence, to get at the
idea, we must inquire into the idea of instrument. Now, what is an
instrument? It is an organism which contains a force. And what is
force? It, being one of the first elements of our thoughts, can be
defined but imperfectly, less by its essence than by its effects. It
might be defined to be the energy of a being retaining its existence
through the means of an effort of concentration, or diffusing it
outwardly by a movement of expansion. Every act of force must be
reduced to this two-fold movement: either we shut ourselves, as it
were, in ourselves to concentrate our life, and give ourselves the
highest possible sensation; or we expand ourselves to communicate our
life to others, and according to the degree of this double tension we
exhibit the phenomenon of force. The hand contracted or closed is the
symbol of the force of concentration; the hand open to give is the
image of the force of expansion. The force of concentration in its
highest possible act is eternity--the possession of interminable life
all at once. He alone possesses it who in an instant--one,
indivisible, and absolute--experiences in himself and for ever the
plenitude of his being, and says, _I am who am_; the sublimest idea
ever conceived and ever uttered. The force of expansion at its highest
possible act is the external action; and he alone possesses it who,
absolutely sufficient to himself in the plenitude of his being, can
call to life, without losing of his own, whomsoever and whatsoever he
lists--bodies, spirits, worlds, and for ever in ages without number,
and in space without limits.
Now, God, in giving us being, has given us force, without which a
being could not conceive itself, and has given us this force in its
double element of concentration and expansion: the one, which enables
us to continue its existence, and to develop ourselves; the other,
which enables us to propagate ourselves: the one, by which we tend to
the act of eternity; the other, by which we tend to the act of 378
creation.
But there is this difference among others between us and the infinite,
that _he_ possesses in himself and by himself the force of concentration
and expansion, whereas our force is borrowed and communicated to us by
means of _instruments_, which his infinite wisdom has prepared. Life
is kept in us by something _forcing_ to us the _instruments_ to which
God has communicated the power of sustaining and repairing it.
We subsist by the invisible force contained in an organism. The same
must be said of the force of expansion. We cannot act outside
ourselves, on any being at all capable of resistance, by the simple
direct act of our will, but must make use of instruments, among which
our body is the first.
Now, the reasons of this are, that, if we possessed the force of
concentration and expansion in ourselves and by ourselves, it would
follow that, as these two forces constitute the essence of life, we
should have life in ourselves and by ourselves, we should be to
ourselves the reason of our being and subsistence, and consequently we
should be infinite and not finite. Hence, pantheism, which admits the
unity of substance independent and self-sufficient, and all else as
phenomena of this substance, rejects all idea of instrument in
metaphysics, and all idea of sacrament in theology.
Nor would it do to say that God might communicate that double force to
us immediately by himself without the aid of any instruments. For two
reasons we must reject such a supposition: First, the law of secondary
agency, which requires that created substance should act, and it would
not for any purpose do so were God to do everything immediately by
himself. Second, the law of communion, so necessary to the unity of
the cosmos, which is founded exclusively upon the action of one
element upon the other, else the communion would be merely imaginary
and fictitious.
We conclude: An instrument in its metaphysical idea is an organism
containing a force of concentration and expansion. A sacrament, being
an instrument, must therefore be an organism containing a force of
concentration and expansion; and, as an organism is something outward
and sensible, it follows that a sacrament must be also outward and
sensible. And as the force which the sacrament is designed to convey
is altogether supernatural, it follows that a sacrament must be an
instrument of conveying supernatural force. We may, therefore, define
a sacrament to be a sensible instrument or organism containing a
supernatural force of concentration and of expansion.
But it is evident that no instrument, no organism in nature, is
capable of conveying a supernatural force of concentration and of
expansion; for that would imply an act superior to its nature, which
is a contradiction. It follows, therefore, that this supernatural
force must be communicated to the organism by the Theanthropos,
otherwise it could never fulfil its destination and office. The
Theanthropos, in order to be the means of communicating to all human
persons in time and space the supernatural term, which is nothing else
but a supernatural force of concentration and expansion, must
communicate and unite his infinite energy and action to an external
organism, and thus himself convey through that organism the
supernatural life. And this union of the infinite energy of the
Theanthropos with an outward organism must not be successive or
temporary, but permanent and stable; since the object is to convey 379
the supernatural force to all human persons in _all time_ and in _all
space_.
This is the sacramental extension of the Theanthropos in time and
space, the continuation upon earth of the hypostatic union, the
filling up, as it were, of his incarnation, a second incarnation; not
of the Word with human nature in the unity of his personality, but an
incarnation of the Theanthropos, the Word made man, with visible,
outward, external instruments, in the unity of one sacramental being,
to convey to men in all times and spaces the supernatural life of
grace.
This sacramental extension of the Theanthropos must be divided into
various moments, owing to the requirements of the object for which it
is intended. The object of the supernatural moment is to reproduce the
Theanthropos in all human persons by a similitude of his nature,
perfections, and attributes, and by a real union with and
transformation into his life.
The infinite, from all eternity, under the subsistence of primary,
unbegotten activity and principle, begets and conceives intellectually
a similitude of himself absolutely perfect under the subsistence of
intellectual expression, _Logos_ or Word. This action of the
_Principle_ begetting the Word, exhibiting all the essential
requisites of generation, constitutes the Principle--_Father_; and the
begotten--_Son_. In his works _ad extra_, the infinite, in effecting
the mystery of the hypostatic moment, does nothing less than exalt the
cosmos, as recapitulated in the human nature of the Word, to the very
same dignity which arises in his bosom when in the day of his eternity
he begets his eternal Son. For the Theanthropos, or the Word made man,
is not the Son of God figuratively, or by adoption, or by any other
action than that which begets him from eternity. He as man-God is the
Son of God really, naturally, and by the same identical action which
eternally engenders him. Hence, the cosmos, as abridged in the human
nature of Christ, in force of the hypostatic moment, is really,
naturally, and by the same eternal action of the Father, the Son of
God Almighty.
The infinite wishes to extend this divine _Sonship_ of the
cosmos, as recapitulated in the human nature of Christ, to human
persons also. This of course cannot be effected except by an adoption
founded upon the following elements:
1. A perfect similitude of the nature, properties, attributes, and
virtues of the Theanthropos.
2. A real union with him.
3. A communication of his life.
4. A communication of his beatitude.
In other words, a reproduction of Christ and his nature, his
attributes, his life, and his bliss.
To effect this reproduction are required: First, a similitude of the
nature of Christ; a similitude of his intellect; a similitude of his
will; a sharing in his feelings. Second, a real and substantial
participation of his life, in order that this similitude may be
sustained, and that, initial and germinal as it is in this world, it
may grow and develop itself by communing with its proper object, and
thus become perfect and able to attain a participation of his bliss in
palingenesia.
Thus the eternal Father, seeing all human persons bearing the image of
his Son, having his mind, his will, his feelings, communicating with
his life, extends to them the feeling of a father and the inheritance
of children.[85]
Hence, the different moments of the sacramental extension of the 380
Theanthropos:
1. A moment of supernatural generation by which the Theanthropos
attaches his infinite energy to a visible instrument, permanent in
time and space, and through which he confers a similitude of himself
and the other divine persons; a similitude in essence, in intellect,
in will, in feeling, in aspirations, in an initial and germinal state,
and which establishes the incipient and germinal union of human
persons with the Trinity.
2. A moment by which the Theanthropos attaches his infinite energy to
a visible instrument, and through which he carries that initial and
inchoative similitude and union to a definite and determinate growth.
3. A moment by which the Theanthropos attaches his infinite energy to
a sensible instrument, in order to communicate to human persons the
power to perpetuate his sacramental extension in time and space.
4. A moment by which the Theanthropos communicates his infinite energy
to human persons, to exalt their natural force of expansion, and
enable them to propagate the human and supernatural species.
5. A moment by which the Theanthropos attaches and unites the _real
substantial presence of his person_, that is, of humanity and
divinity, both subsisting in his single divine person, to a sensible
instrument, in order to communicate to human persons his real,
substantial, theanthropic life, in order to put all human persons of
all time and space in real living communion with each other, by
meeting in him and through him as a common centre, and in order to
reside continually in the visible cosmos.
The third and fourth moments follow necessarily from the others, both
having the like office.
The first of them is intended to perpetuate the sacramental extension
of Christ. An organism to be set in motion requires the agency of
human persons; consequently, the supernatural organism or the
sacramental extension of Christ, in order to be applied to human
persons, requires the agency of human persons, appointed and fitted
for such office by another visible instrument to which a particular
theanthropic energy is attached.
This third moment is demanded also for another object, that is, the
transmitting whole and entire, and without any error, by a personal
intercourse, of the whole body of doctrines which are the object of
the supernatural intelligence bestowed by the first moment. No other
possible way can be thought of transmitting whole and entire the whole
body of doctrines, the object of the supernatural intelligence, than a
personal intercourse, the only safe, natural, philosophical manner of
transmitting doctrine. Hence, for this object, also, a moment was
required by which the Theanthropos, attaching his infinite energy to a
particular instrument, would fit human persons to teach infallibly the
whole body of doctrines he came to reveal, and to put in act his
sacramental extension.
The fourth moment relates to the natural union of sexes in reference
to generation.
Human persons being exalted by the first moment to the supernatural
order, their personal acts must necessarily become supernatural; much
more the highest possible personal act of expansion, which is the
transfusion of their united life into a third. Consequently, it was
befitting that the Theanthropos should attach a particular
supernatural energy to the union of the sexes with a view to the act
of generation, in order to exalt and sanctify it, and thus enable 381
them not only to generate as persons exalted to a supernatural state,
but to bring up the offspring in the same supernatural order.[86]
All the moments of the sacramental extension of Christ but the fifth
imply a personal action of the Theanthropos, attached to each
particular instrument constituting the moment.
The fifth moment alone implies a real substantial presence of the
whole person of the Theanthropos under the visible instrument. This
requires explanation and proof, since it has been denied with the
fierceness and rage of an opposition which did not and could not
comprehend the grandeur, the sublimity, the magnificence of the
elevation of the cosmos, by the fact of the hypostatic moment.
Catholicity holds: 1. That, though the Theanthropos has withdrawn his
_visible_ presence from the cosmos, he remains in it still, not by a
spiritual, figurative, phenomenal presence, but by a real, substantial
presence of his _whole person_, that is, of his body, blood, soul, and
divinity--a presence hidden under the modifications of bread and wine.
2. That the manner according to which this real, substantial presence
of the Theanthropos is obtained, is by a change of the substances of
bread and wine into the substance of the body and blood of the
Theanthropos, not still and dead, but as vivified by his soul and
divinity; a change effected by the sacramental words impregnated with
the infinite power of the Theanthropos, and uttered by the minister
over the elements to be changed.
Now the question arises: Is this substantial presence of the
Theanthropos necessary? Is it metaphysically possible in the manner
that the Catholic Church admits it?
As to the first question, we observe that such a presence is not
absolutely necessary when considered of itself, independent of, and
previous to, the adoption of the present plan of the cosmos by the
infinite intelligence of God. But considered in relation to the
present plan of the cosmos and as a complement of it, it _is_
necessary. Infinite intelligence might have selected another plan, but,
having once chosen the present plan of the cosmos, the real presence
becomes absolutely necessary as a complement bringing it to perfection.
This we shall endeavor to prove by the following arguments:
First, the end of the action of the infinite outside himself is the highest
possible manifestation of his infinite excellence. To attain this end, an
infinite effect would have been necessary. But as an infinite effect was a
contradiction in terms, infinite wisdom was to find means whereby to effect
the highest possible manifestation of himself, in spite of the ontological
finiteness of the cosmos to be effected. This means was to produce a
variety of moments; to bring the whole variety of moments to the highest
possible unity in the person of the Theanthropos.
1. To produce a variety of moments, in order that the _infinity_ of
the perfections of God, which could not be expressed by the terms
effected in _intensity_ of being, might be expressed in _extension_
and _number_.
2. The highest possible unity, in order that the infinity, simplicity,
and oneness of God might be portrayed.
3. In the person of the Theanthropos, in order that, if this variety
brought into unity could not be ontologically infinite, it might be
infinite by a union and communication the highest possible.
These are the three leading principles, according to which infinite 382
wisdom resolved the problem of the end of the external action: highest
possible variety, highest possible unity, highest possible
communication.
Now, let us see if and how the effectuation of real cosmos was
governed by these principles.
In view of these principles, God effected substantial creation and the
hypostatic moment, by which the whole substantial moment was united to
the person of the Word in the bond of his divine personality.
Was the problem of the highest possible variety and the highest
possible unity and communication in the person of the Theanthropos
resolved? It was, so far only as nature and substance were concerned;
because the hypostatic union only wedded _human nature_, and through
it all inferior natures, to the person of the Word. But this unity and
communication excluded, and had to exclude, all human personalities.
It excluded them in the fact; it had to exclude them, otherwise human
personality would have ceased to exist. Here the problem must be
resolved anew--how to raise human personality to the highest possible
union and communication with the Theanthropos. Another moment was
effected to initiate the solution of the problem; and this was the
supernatural moment. By it human personality, by being endowed with a
higher similitude of the Trinity and the Theanthropos, and by
receiving higher faculties, is brought into a real and particular
union with the Word, and through him the other persons of the Trinity.
But the supernatural moment does not resolve the problem yet; because
the union which results thereby is union between human persons and the
Word as God, not a union between human persons and the _Theanthropos_,
the Word made man.
A real and efficient union between two terms requires a real relation
between them. Now, the supernatural term establishes a relation
between human persons and the Word, but not a relation between them
and the Theanthropos, because it is wholly spiritual and incorporeal.
A true relation between persons composed of body and soul must be a
contact, not spiritual only, but also corporeal.
Hence, if we exclude the real substantial presence of the Theanthropos
as such, we have a union of human persons united to the Word, but not
a real efficacious union of human persons united to the
_Theanthropos_. On this supposition, the cosmos would lack the highest
possible unity and communication, and would fail to realize the end of
that external action. But, admit the corporal presence of the
Theanthropos in time and space, admit that presence incorporating and
individualizing itself in human persons, and the whole wisdom and
beauty of the design flashes at once upon your mind--the whole cosmos,
as abridged in the human nature of Christ, made infinite by the
hypostatic union with the Word; all human persons incorporated body
and soul into the body and soul of the Theanthropos, built up into his
body and soul, transformed, as it were, in them and through them, and
in them coming in the closest possible communication with the divinity
which a _person_ can attain. In this plan only everything holds
together and presents order, harmony, and beauty.
But, if the real substantial presence of the _Theanthropos_ was
necessary in order to bring human personality to the highest possible
union and communication with the infinite, and thus realize the end of
the external action, it was also required that the being and actions 383
of human personality might be elevated to the dignity, excellence, and
value of _theanthropic being and acts_. In the hypostatic union, human
nature and all the inferior natures which it eminently contains, as
connected in the person of the Word, are deified, and their acts have
the value and dignity of divine acts.
Hence, so far, the end of the external action which is to raise the
cosmos in its nature and acts to an infinite dignity by union and
communication, is attained. But human personality, not being an
element of the hypostatic union, could not acquire in its being and in
its acts the dignity and excellence of divine being and acts, and
consequently the end of the external action could not by the
hypostatic moment be realized as regards the same personality. Here
another problem arose in the divine mind--how to raise human
personality to such a union with the Theanthropos as, without
infringing upon its nature, to raise its being and its acts to the
value, excellence, and dignity of theanthropic being and acts, and
thus to exhibit in it the most perfect image of the infinite. This
problem was resolved by the incorporation of the Theanthropos, under
the modifications of bread and wine, in human persons. This plan does
not imply an hypostatic union, which would do away with human
personality, but a union so strict, so close, and so intimate, as
merely to fall short of the hypostatic. For, in it and by it, the
Theanthropos, the God made man, in his whole person, composed of body,
soul, and divinity, is incorporated in human personalities by the act
of eating, and his body pervades their bodies, his blood circulates in
their blood, his soul inheres upon and clings to their soul, his
divinity purifies, sanctifies, ennobles, exalts their whole being,
and, like food, results in a transformation--a transformation not
indeed of the Theanthropos into the flesh and blood of the human
person, as it happens with ordinary food, but a transformation of the
human person into the body, blood, soul, and almost divinity of the
Theanthropos. “Cresce et manducabis me, nec tu me mutabis in te sed tu
mutaberis in me.”[87] The fathers have endeavored to express the
intimacy of the union by adopting various similitudes. Some have
likened it to a piece of glass when impregnated by the rays of the
sun, and appearing like a smaller sun. Others have compared it to the
action of fire upon iron, which, when heated and become red hot, looks
exactly like fire, and could fulfil the functions of fire. St. Cyril
of Alexandria has chosen the similitude of two distinct pieces of wax,
which when melted and mingled together are so intimately united as to
form one single piece, defying every possible recognition of their
former separation. But all these similitudes, possible as they may be,
can never express the mysterious intimacy and closeness between human
personalities and the Theanthropos in the eucharistic banquet.
Now, how does this resolve the problem? Most perfectly. The infinite
intends to exhibit in human personalities an image, an expression of
himself as pure and as perfect as possible--an image of his being and
of his life or action in obedience to the end of the external action,
always preserving the conditions of human personalities. Now, what
does the cosmos of personalities when united to the Theanthropos in
the mystery of the Eucharist, when pervaded by him, when so closely 384
and so intimately united to him as to feel his flesh come in contact
with their flesh, his blood glowing in their blood, his heart beating
against their hearts, his mind illumining and guiding their minds, his
will captivating and mastering their will, his divinity ennobling and
exalting their whole being and faculties--I say, when the cosmos of
personality is thus united to the Theanthropos, does it not represent
most vividly the infinite being of God? Does the infinite in looking
at such a cosmos see anything but as it were one Theanthropos filling
and pervading all?
As to expressing the action of the life of the infinite, and thus
raising the acts of a human person to the dignity and value of
theanthropic life, it will appear evident if we recollect that the
life of the infinite establishes the eternal religion in the bosom of
God which expresses itself in the mystery of the ever blessed Trinity.
For the Father, in recognizing himself intellectually, and as it were
theoretically, produces an intellectual image of himself, absolutely
perfect in every sense. Both in recognizing themselves aspire a
practical acknowledgment of themselves, the Holy Ghost, who completes
the cycle of infinite life, and perfects the eternal religion.
Now, this eternal religion are human persons destined to express, to
realize in themselves, that they may be a most perfect image in their
action and life of the life of the infinite. This they could never do
either naturally or supernaturally. Naturally, because such
acknowledgment requires an infinite intellect to apprehend the
infinite excellence and perfection of God, and an infinite power of
appreciation to value, esteem, and love it practically. Now, naturally
these faculties of human persons are simply finite. Even the light of
grace, which strengthens the natural intelligence, and the
supernatural force, which corroborates the will, cannot do it, because
in their nature also finite. It is, therefore, the infinite intellect
and will of the Theanthropos which alone can appreciate him
intellectually and love him as he deserves. Now, the mystery of the
Eucharist enables human persons to partake of this intellectual and
volitive recognition of the infinite by their union with the
Theanthropos. When, after the solemn and happy moment of feeding upon
the flesh and blood of the Theanthropos, I turn myself to adore God,
to render him the homage of adoration which I owe him as creature,
then I am not alone with my limited understanding and will. It is with
the intellect of the Theanthropos, which pervades and illumines my
intellect, that I recognize theoretically his infinite perfections.
When at the same moment I turn to him to offer him the tribute of my
love, I cling to him then, not with the finite, limited, circumscribed
power of my natural or supernatural will, but of a will under the
guidance, the mastery, the possession, the infinite power of expansion
of the will of the Theanthropos, under the immense weight of his love;
and when I yield my heart to exuberant joy and complacency in his
infinite loveliness and bliss, it is not the little vessel of a heart,
which can contain but a finite joy, but a heart under the pressure of
infinite jubilee, which gushes up from the heart of the Theanthropos
and overflows into my heart, and makes it swim in a joy and a delight
known to those alone who have tasted it. Thus, with the Theanthropos
in my bosom, pervading my mind, my soul, my heart, my flesh, and
drawing me toward him even as the bridegroom draws his bride to him,
even as the mother presses her offspring close to her bosom in the 385
intensity of maternal love, I know and I feel that I am adoring God as
perfectly as a human person could possibly do, and the finite personal
act of my adoration becomes infinite because mingled with the infinite
act of the Theanthropos.
Hence the Eucharist is necessary, because it resolves the problem, how
to elevate human persons to the most perfect image of God by
incorporating the Theanthropos in human persons, and sharing with them
his perfections and his acts.
So far, we have proved the necessity of the real presence, because, in
force of the end of the external action, the cosmos, not only in the
natures which it contains, but in the personalities also, required to
be brought to the highest possible union and communication with the
infinite.
We shall prove the same necessity from the requirements of
supernatural life.
The supernatural term conferred upon human persons, consisting of a
superior essence engrafted on their natural essence, and of
supernatural faculties, must live, that is, act and develop itself.
Now, life, in the highest metaphysical acceptation of the term,
consists in communion--the communing of a subject with an object. In
the infinite, this communication is active. For the first principle
lives inasmuch as he communicates his life to his conception, and both
transfuse it into the spirit. But as the finite cannot contain life in
itself, it must communicate with an object in order to appropriate it
to itself. A person elevated to the supernatural moment cannot
therefore live, except by communion with the objects proper to that
moment. Now, what is the proper object of the supernatural faculties
of intelligence and of will? For the intelligence, it is an actual
apprehension of the infinite and the finite in all their relations,
inasmuch as they are intelligible and inasmuch as the faculty is able
to apprehend them. For the will, it is the infinite and the finite in
all their relations, inasmuch as they are lovable. Hence, the
supernatural intelligence must apprehend and come in contact with the
infinite, his nature, his perfections, the mystery of his life and of
his bliss, with the infinite, inasmuch as he acts outside himself,
and, hence, with all the moments of his action and their terms. The
same must be said of the supernatural will. This communication must be
real and effective, otherwise the life which would flow from it would
not be real, but fictitious and unsubstantial. But how to put the
supernatural faculties of elevated persons in real, actual,
substantial communication with the infinite and the finite in all
their relations, so that the supernatural term may live, be unfolded,
and transformed into them? By the real substance, presence, and
communication of the Theanthropos, who in his single individuality
realizes the infinite and the finite in all their relations to each
other. By communing actually and substantially with him, the essence
of the supernatural moment comes in contact with the essence of the
infinite, with his attributes, the eternal mystery of his life; it
comes in contact with all substantial creation as abridged in the
human nature of Christ; it comes in contact with the supernatural
term, as Christ contains the fulness of it in his soul. Supernatural
intelligence comes, therefore, in contact with all the objects which
it is intended to appropriate, that it may expand, grow, and become
perfect. The same happens to the supernatural will. Thus, in union 386
with the Theanthropos by the eucharistic presence, they come in
communion with all the objects which are to bring them to perfection
by a gradual development and transformation.
Take the corporal presence of the Theanthropos away, and the
supernatural faculties would only be in communication with the
infinite, but not with the finite; with God, but not with his cosmos;
because these faculties could never come in contact with the whole
cosmos, except inasmuch as it exists and lives in the Theanthropos.
This argument introduces us to another. Every elevated person, to live
fully and perfectly, must be in communication not only with the
infinite and the finite as to nature, but also as to personality.
Every elevated person must commune in a real, living, actual,
quickening manner with elevated persons in time and space. The
perfection of unity of the cosmos claims this communing, as it is
evident; and the fulness of life of each particular person demands it,
because life in its plenitude[88] results from communing with all its
proper objects.
Now, how to bring together all elevated persons living at a distance
of time and space--some in the initial and germinal state, others in
the state of completion and palingenesia? We come into communion with
things and persons distinct and separate from us by time, space, or
individuality, by a _medium_ common to us and those things or persons
we wish to enter into communion with. Thus, I come into communication
with persons at a certain distance from me by the mediums of light and
air, which are between me and them, and common to both. Suppose I was
speaking, the air which exists between me and my hearers would be the
common medium of communication. In articulating, I would strike the
air which surrounds me, and the strokes would be transmitted from
particle to particle in every direction until they would reach the
ears of my audience, and thus a communication by speech would be
established between us. If, therefore, all elevated persons must come
in contact with each other, there must be something which will bring
them together--a medium common to them all--to make them commune with
each other. Now, this medium is the real substantial presence of the
Theanthropos incorporating himself in all elevated persons. I commune
with the Theanthropos, with his divinity and his humanity, with his
intelligence, his will, his heart, his body: I appropriate him to
myself; another communes likewise with the Theanthropos; and thus we
are brought together, we come in contact, we are united in the same
life, intelligence, will, heart, body; thus we meet and live in one
common theanthropic life. This is the foundation partly of that
sublime, magnificent, ennobling doctrine of Catholicity, the
_communion of saints_--communion of all persons elevated to the
supernatural moment. Communion! What is the medium which brings them
together? It is the real, living, substantial presence of the
Theanthropos incorporated in them, and on which they have fed and
shall feed for eternity.[89]
How beautifully, how divinely was this communication of the
Theanthropos given to us in the shape of food and at a banquet! Men 387
in all times and in all places, by a prophetic instinct implanted in
them by the Creator, have recognized the banquet as the supreme and
the best expression of union and communication; because it was to
appropriate, to drink life at one common source, from one common food.
In the eucharistic banquet this is realized truly. Imagine a
banqueting-hall as unbounded as space, and a banquet as long as time.
Suppose millions upon millions of elevated persons entering the
banqueting-hall to partake of the same repast. It is nothing less than
the flesh and blood of the Theanthropos, not dead, but living and
quickening, by the indwelling of his soul and divinity, under the
appearance of the simplest and most primitive elements of life--bread
and wine. All partake of it; it penetrates and fills them all. A glow
of theanthropic life runs through their supernatural being; their
supernatural intelligence grows brighter at the flashes of his
infinite, finite intelligence; their will expands at the embraces of
infinite and finite loveliness; their hearts swell with virtues under
the pressure of the heart of Jesus; their affections are purified,
cleansed, ennobled, divinized at the contact of the affections of
Jesus; their very flesh is spiritualized at the touch of his flesh; a
seed, a germ of immortality is sown in it, to bud and blossom in the
end of time. They live; not they, it is the Theanthropos who lives in
them. And what wonder is it, then, that their natures, coming in
contact in him, their intelligences meeting in him, their will
harmonizing in him, their hearts beating together in him, their
emotions mingling in him, their flesh touching in him and through
him--what wonder, I say, is it, then, that they should communicate
with each other, and that their virtues and their very merits should
become common? Those who have never realized such a doctrine may often
have marvelled, on hearing a Catholic speaking of those who have
passed from the initial and germinal state to the state of
palingenesia, as if they were present to him, as if he were actually
holding sweet converse with them. This doctrine explains it all. A
Catholic feels truly that the life of the apostles and evangelists
glows in his bosom, that the blood of martyrs runs in his very blood
and ennobles it, that the guileless simplicity and innocent loveliness
of the virgins beams on his countenance, that the virtues of all the
saints are transfused into him; because at the eucharistic banquet he
can meet them living in the eternal mediator of all things, the
Theanthropos, and in him and through him he mingles with them,
associates with them, comes into the closest possible communication
with them. Utopians have dreamt of a universal society, in which
everything would be common. It is the eucharistic doctrine of the
substantial presence of the Theanthropos which alone realizes this
universal, sublime, ennobling society of all elevated spirits in one
common medium, and having everything common in the only mediator,
Jesus Christ, in all time and space.[90]
We feel that withal the arguments we have brought forward in 388
vindicating the beautiful and sublime dogma of the real presence of
the Theanthropos in his cosmos will have no effect on some minds,
unless we remove the metaphysical difficulties which are raised
against it, and show consequently its possibility. Therefore, we
willingly hasten to the task. And as these objections are very
popular, we shall put them in the popular form of a dialogue. The
dialogue is between W. and D., the first a Protestant, and the other a
Catholic.
_W._ I shall begin by a very strong objection. I cannot conceive the
possibility of the body of a full-grown man being within the small
portion of space filled by a wafer. Christ was a full-grown man. He is
so now. How, then, can he reside or be contained in such a small
particle of space as the host?
_D._ You will be kind enough to observe what the Catholic Church
teaches, that it is the _substance_ of the body and blood of
Christ, which is under the modifications of bread and wine.
_W._ Suppose it is; what difference does that make?
_D._ All the difference in the world. Pray, what is a substance?
_W._ It is that part of a being which remains immutable amid all the
vicissitudes and changes of the being. These changes or vicissitudes
are called accidents or modifications; that which remains always the
same and immutable is called substance.
_D._ Right; and, pray, has substance any dimensions, has it length,
breadth, height, or depth, or is it what philosophers call a simple
being?
_W._ It must have no dimensions, because dimensions may change and
vary, and the substance must be always the same.
_D._ Then substance is a simple being, that is, it has neither height,
depth, length, or breadth.
_W._ So it would seem, and so, if I recollect aright, all the
metaphysicians worth the name hold it to be.
_D._ Right again; and, if you remember, Leibnitz calls it a _monas_, or
a unit, and distinguishes two kinds of substances, the simple and the
composite. The simple is one substance; the composite is an aggregate
of simple substances or _units_. Thus, bodies are an aggregate of
substances or units.
_W._ Well, suppose that bodies as to substance are an aggregate of
simple units, what of that?
_D._ Why, then your objection is
answered.
_W._ How?
_D._ Did we not say that the Catholic Church teaches that it is the
_substance_ of the body and blood of Christ, which is under the
modifications of bread and wine? Did we not agree upon the theory that
substance has no dimensions? Did we not admit that a body is an
aggregate of simple units, as to substance, and that consequently in
that respect it has no dimensions? Then it matters not how large or
how small you may imagine the wafer to be, it cannot make the least
difference; seeing that our Lord’s body in the holy Eucharist is there
in its substance, or as an aggregate of simple units, and consequently
has no dimensions, and occupies no space whatever. And remark, that
what happens in this particular case happens in every other being under 389
the class of bodies. The substance or the number of simple units
forming a body occupies no space whatever, and is whole and entire
under each and every modification. What is particular to the Eucharist
is that the substance of the body of Christ lies not under its own,
but under foreign modifications. But I trust you see no difficulty in
this?
_W._ Not much; the main difficulty of space being removed, I can very
well conceive that God could easily cause a substance to appear under
foreign modifications; for I see no contradiction to any essential
attributes of a substance in appearing under the garb of the
modifications of another. But what I cannot conceive is this: if we
admit composite substances to be an aggregate of units, that is, of
beings having no dimensions or parts, how do you account for the
phenomenon of extension? A monas, or unit, is like a mathematical
point, that is, a cipher with regard to extension; multiply,
therefore, the units as much as you like, and the result will always
be a cipher with reference to space. How, then, do you explain the
phenomenon of extension?
_D._ First of all, you will be kind enough to understand that it is
not the Catholic Church who is bound to explain the phenomenon of
extension. It is the metaphysicians who hold the theory, though it is
the only true one. It is enough for the church to say, Your best and
most universal theory is, that a body is an aggregate of units devoid
of extension. I show you that my dogma agrees perfectly with your
theory. But it may be as well to mention the explanation which the
metaphysicians just mentioned give to the objection. They hold that
extension, as it falls under the senses and the imagination, is not
real, but phenomenal, and that the real objective extension is nothing
more than the constant relation of all the units of a nature to
produce in a sensitive being the phenomenon of the representation of
space.[91]
_W._ But the greatest difficulty remains yet. Nobody can be in
different places at the same time. You hold that the body of Christ is
in as many places as there are hosts in the universe. This would
establish the astounding phenomenon of a body in millions of different
places at the same time. This is certainly absurd, and I conceive that
you will find much more trouble in explaining away this difficulty
than you did the first.
_D._ I must beg leave to call your attention again to the fact that
the Catholic Church teaches that it is the substance of the body of
Christ which is in different places at the same time.
_W._ Oh! you are there again with your substance! I must own you have
an ingenious way about you, and, if you succeed in making me see how
this circumstance removes the objection, as it did the first, I give
it up.
_D._ But it _does_ remove it. And let me tell you that you 390
Protestants, in fighting against the dogmas of the Catholic Church,
commit two very serious faults: First, you do not provide yourselves
with philosophy enough to cope with her. Secondly, you do not sound
the depth of her statement. Then it generally happens that, when you
think you are proposing your strongest objections, and you are very
sure you have her in a corner, you are merely combating a phantom of
your own imagination.
Now, let us see if the substance of the body of Christ can be in
different places at the same time. To do this, we must examine the
other question, How can a simple being reside in space? Metaphysicians
teach that a body may reside in space in two ways, according as it is
considered either in its phenomenal representation or in its real
objective nature and substance. In its phenomenal representation, a
body resides in space by contact of extension; in its real objective
nature and substance, by acting upon it. I lay my hand flat upon the
surface of a table, and suppose I consider both my hand and the table
in their phenomenal extension. Under this respect, all the points and
parts which form the phenomenal extension of my hand come in contact
with all the respective parts of the table which my hand is able to
cover.[92] Under this respect, a body naturally _cannot_ be in
different places at the same time without a contradiction, because the
supposition would imply that the parts of my hand which are in contact
with the respective parts of the table are also in contact with parts
of other bodies at any given distance.
But if we consider a body not in its phenomenal extension, but in its
real objective nature and substance, the case is different; because,
as we have seen, the body as to its substance is simple and
unextended, and therefore, as such, it cannot reside in space by
contact of extension, inasmuch as its parts touch the phenomenal parts
of space; for it has no parts which may touch. Hence it follows that
it resides in space as every other simple being, that is, by acting
upon it.[93] In this case, a body in its substance and objective
nature does not reside in space except by its action upon it.
Now, naturally, a body in its objective nature and substance is
limited in its action to a certain defined space, and cannot extend
its action beyond it. But there is no possible contradiction in
supposing that a body may be endowed by the infinite with the power
and energy to act upon any indeterminate amount of space at the same
time.
Now, with regard to the body of our Lord, we have seen that it is in
the holy Eucharist in its objective state, and consequently is there
by its real action. The miracle in this case is, that the infinite
power of the Word to which it is hypostatically united intensifies its
natural sphere of acting upon space, and makes it extend to thousands
of places at the same time. To conclude: The question, Can the body of
Christ be in different places at the same time? resolves itself into
this other: Can the substance of the body of Christ act really and
truly in different places at the same time? Who could give a reason
worth anything to show that it cannot? Who could prove any
contradiction in the supposition? There would be a contradiction in 391
saying that the phenomenal dimensions of the body of Christ, at the
same time that they touch the dimensions of one definite space, touch
also the dimensions of numberless other spaces. But there is no
contradiction in saying that the substance of the body of Christ can
act by virtue of the Word, to whom it is united, in numberless places
at one and the same instant.
The completion of the theory of the cosmos in time and space will be
given in the next article.
[84] Council of Trent.
[85] “Quos prescivit et predestinavit conformes fieri imagini
filii sui, ut ipse sit primogenitus in multis fratibus.”
Rom. viii. 29.
[86] There are two other moments, but as these imply the
question of evil, they shall be treated of when speaking of
that question.
[87] St. Augustine.
[88] We speak of initial plenitude.
[89] We hold that an elevated person once united to the
substance of the Theanthropos, though not always actually
united to his body, because this sacramental union only
lasts as long as the species would naturally last, yet is
continually so united in a spiritual though not less real
manner.
[90] We have given the real presence, and the communion of
the flesh and blood of Jesus Christ, as the foundation of
the communion of saints. To this might be objected that all
the saints of the Old Testament, and many elevated persons,
such as children dying after baptism, and grown persons who
never could communicate, never were united to the Theanthropos
in the Eucharist, and consequently would be excluded from
the communion of saints. We answer, first, that we have only
made the real presence _partly_ the foundation of the
communion of saints. Second, we speak of the perfect state
of the cosmos, and consequently not of the imperfect and
incipient state, such as was the state of elevated persons
in the Old Testament, who were united to Christ by faith and
charity. As to children and grown-up persons who never
communicated, we answer that we are giving the general law,
and not accidental cases. The foundation, therefore, of the
communion of saints is the union with Christ, real and
actual, of the supernatural faculties. The perfection of the
communion of saints is the real presence and incorporation.
[91] We have given here the theory of the best of modern
philosophers. But any one acquainted with the scholastics
will at once perceive that their theory agrees perfectly
with the above. The fundamental idea of the scholastics in
reference to matter is that it is something absolutely
indeterminate, which they express by saying that it is
neither quantity nor quality, etc., and that it becomes
determinate by the form, which is something altogether
unique and devoid of dimension. Matter they compare to
potentiality, something only possible, the form to the act
or actuality. We subjoin a few extracts from St. Thomas:
“Materia prima aliquo modo est quia est in potentia. Sicut
omne quod est in potentia potest dici materia ita omne a quo
habet aliquid esse potest dici forma. Forma dat esse
materiæ.”
It is clear, therefore, that, according to the scholastic
theory, what gives being to matter is the form, something
altogether simple and unextended.
[92] “Corporalia sunt in loco per contactum
quantitis.”--_St. Thomas._
[93] “Incorporalia non sunt in loco per contactum quantitis
sed per contactum _virtutis_.”--ID.
----------
THE LIQUEFACTION OF THE BLOOD OF ST. JANUARIUS.
NO. IV.
After the very full and detailed exposition of the facts of the
liquefactions, as millions have seen them in the past--as tens of
thousands may, and do still, see them each year--the question forces
itself on us: Is this a miracle, as the Neapolitans believe, and as
many earnest and critical examiners from other lands have been led to
hold, after a careful and candid investigation into the facts of the
case? Is it a suspension of the ordinary laws of nature, and an
intervention of the supernatural power of the Most High, producing an
effect above and beyond the ordinary course of nature? or is this
liquefaction a phenomenon entirely within the sphere of natural
laws--either the result of some law, or combination of laws, producing
this effect; or is it the result of the art and skill of men? One of
these three it must be: either the spontaneous effect of some natural
laws, or the artificial result of human trickery, or a miracle. The
decision must depend on the character of the facts.
The Neapolitans, and, with them, Catholic writers generally, hold it
to be a miracle. On the other hand, such a visible substantiation of
the claims made by the Catholic Church that miracles do continue in
her fold, as the Saviour promised, and are the seal and confirmation
of her divine authority, has not failed to arouse the opposition of
those who deny that authority.
In meeting the argument, or the facts of the case, they have not
always followed the same line. Two or three centuries ago, they
contended that the liquefaction was a lying wonder produced by
witchcraft or magic, or by the power of Beelzebub. A little later,
natural philosophy was appealed to. This liquefaction of the blood,
when the vial was brought near to the head, arose, they said, from a
law of sympathy in nature, akin to if not merely a peculiar form of 392
that law which causes blood to flow from the wounds of a corpse if the
real murderer lay his hand on the dead body.
These replies, or attempts at a natural solution, are antiquated. We
need not seriously consider them.
In the last century, the objectors took a very different ground. The
whole thing, they said, was a device of the priests. Some called it a
“trick of long standing and great ingenuity”; others stigmatized it as
“one of the most bungling tricks ever seen.”
This style of objection still holds its own.
During the present century, another style of objection has come into
vogue, based on the ever-increasing spirit of rationalism. The laws of
nature, we are told, are invariable and supreme. No violations of them
are possible. All miracles--in the sense of occurrences above and
beyond those laws of nature, occasional interruptions in the grand
scheme of universal order, law, and causation--are to be at once
rejected. “The idea of _their_ possibility can only occur to those
who have failed to grasp the great inductive principle of invariable
uniformity and law in nature.” “It is hardly a question of evidence.
The generality of mankind habitually assume antecedently that miracles
are now inadmissible; and hence, that, in any reported case, they must
in some manner be explained away.... Of old, the sceptic professed he
would be convinced by seeing a miracle. At the present day, a visible
miracle would be the very subject of his scepticism. It is not the
attestation, but the nature of the alleged miracle, which is now the
point in question. It is not the fallibility of human testimony, but
the infallibility of natural order, which is now the ground of
argument.” (Rev. Baden Powell, _Order of Nature_.)
We have not the space to examine this theory at length, and to show
that it is at bottom anti-christian and pantheistic, contrary to the
soundest principles of true philosophy. Nor is it necessary for our
purpose to do so. All the philosophical disquisitions in the world
will not prove to a man having eyes that, because “the laws of nature
are immutable, and miracles are therefore impossible,” the blood which
stands in the ampulla was liquid when taken out, or is solid at the
conclusion. He saw that it was hard, and sees that it is now fluid. He
will laugh at the philosopher and believe his own eyes.
Neither is it necessary to confute at length the opinion accepted so
blindly by Protestants, that the age of miracles has long since past,
and that miracles have entirely ceased since the days of the apostles.
If God can work miracles, what man can limit him in the exercise of
that power, either in time or place? And did not the Saviour promise
the continuance of signs among them that believe--a continuance to
which he put no limitation?
The assertion that the Catholic Church is erroneous, and that
consequently there can be no miracles in her fold, is more than akin
to the words of the Pharisees to the blind man, whom our Lord had
restored to sight: “_Give glory to God; we know that this man is a
sinner._” The appropriate answer was: “_If he be a sinner, I know not:
one thing I know, that whereas I was blind, now I see_” (John ix. 24,
25).
We therefore leave the general subject of miracles to be treated by
others; and we confine ourselves to the fact of the liquefaction. In
this, as in every other case of alleged miracles, the decision depends
entirely on the character of the testimony and on the nature of the 393
facts which that testimony establishes.
The testimony in this case is overwhelming in amount and unimpeachable
in character. The liquefaction with its marked features and details
are clearly established. We have only to seek its cause.
Is it due to the regular action of the natural laws which, under the
given circumstances, produce the liquefaction, independently of any
special act of men designed to bring it about? How does a solid body
naturally pass into a fluid condition?
A solid body may become fluid by deliquescence. Certain substances
drink in water from the atmosphere around them to such an extent as to
become fluid. They are said to deliquesce.
Is this liquefaction a deliquescence? Most assuredly not.
1. The substance within the ampulla--the indurated blood--so far as
the eye can judge of it, through the glass of the ampulla and the
glass sides of the reliquary, bears no resemblance to any of the
substances which are known to deliquesce.
2. The process of deliquescence is well known and is not to be
mistaken. It is gradual; and the exterior of the deliquescing
substance, being in immediate contact with the water-bearing
atmosphere, is always seen to yield first to the liquefying influence
of the water. On the contrary, the liquefaction is often
instantaneous--_in un colpo d’occhio; in un tratto_. Even when gradual
and not instantaneous, the differences are marked. The upper portion
will become perfectly liquid while the lower portion remains still
hard; or the lower portion will liquefy while the upper portion
retains its hardness; or, again, the upper and lower portions may both
remain hard while the middle portion becomes fluid; or the middle
portion will continue hard and solid while they become perfectly
liquid: sometimes, the outer surface next to the glass sides of the
ampulla will be seen to soften and liquefy first--in this case
following the course of a deliquescence; sometimes precisely the
reverse occurs--the central portion is seen to become liquid while the
exterior remains hard and unliquefied. When we add that occasionally
one side or lateral half liquefies while the other preserves its
hardness, and also that, while frequently the entire mass becomes
liquid, yet, on many occasions, a certain portion remains hard for
hours and days and then liquefies--perhaps gradually, perhaps only
after the entire mass has become hardened again--it will be seen that
this liquefaction presents every possible mode and shade of difference
to distinguish it from the single mode of deliquescence.
The difficulty becomes greater if we consider the obstacles to a freer
communication between the outer atmosphere and the substance within
the ampulla. The ampulla is a tightly-closed glass vessel, and is
itself held within the reliquary, another tightly-closed vessel of
metal and glass. This twofold barrier must forbid any ready and rapid
passage of atmospheric water from the air to the substance within the
ampulla.
Again, no connection whatever can be discovered between the
superabundant moisture or the dryness of the atmosphere at Naples and
the occurrence or non-occurrence of the liquefaction. We may take a
series of twenty days, which the diary marks as very rainy, or
occurring in a long-continued rainy season; and a series of twenty
others, when the weather was dry--so dry, they were praying for rain.
It will be seen that the phases of the liquefactions for each series 394
are so alike that they might be interchanged. The general hygrometric
condition of the atmosphere evidently has no perceptible influence for
or against or on the liquefactions.
Nay, more, it frequently happens that the blood, after liquefying,
grows solid again on the same day, and then liquifies, perhaps
solidifies anew, and liquefies a third time. All these changes have
sometimes taken place within one hour. Now, did the atmosphere, during
that hour or during that day, pass through corresponding extreme
changes of its hygrometric condition? Ordinary men did not feel them.
Meteorological observers have not noticed them. Registering
instruments do not record them. And yet, the habit of watching their
neighboring and often threatening volcano has made the people of
Naples as observant of such changes as sailors at sea, and has given
to that city one of the ablest schools of meteorology on the
Continent.
We may well conclude, therefore, that the liquefaction of the blood of
St. Januarius is not the deliquescence of a solid body, arising from
humidity of the air to which it is exposed.
Is it the melting of a solid substance through the action of heat?
This is a more important question. Many of those who charge bad faith
and trickery on the “priests and monks” officiating at the
expositions, maintain that it is by an adroit application of heat that
the liquefaction is brought about. Others, who admit the sincerity and
good faith of the Neapolitan clergy--which, knowing the men, they feel
cannot be impugned--still attribute the liquefaction to the heat of
the altar, all ablaze with lighted tapers, and of the crowd thronging
the chapel, and packed most closely just in the sanctuary itself and
around the altar.
We undertake to show that the liquefaction is in no way produced by or
dependent on heat.
I. Often, when the crowd is greatest, and the heat most intense--say
in September--the liquefaction is delayed for hours; perhaps does not
occur at all, or only a portion liquefies, while another portion
remains solid.
II. On the contrary, it has occurred quickly and for the entire mass,
even though the crowd was comparatively small. This is especially seen
in the extraordinary expositions, even in winter, when not a score of
persons were present.
III. It has taken place in the open air, while the reliquary, placed
upright in an open framework, and held aloft above the heads of the
people, was borne in procession through the streets; and this in the
winter months of December and January, as well as on the vigils at the
beginning of May.
IV. It has occurred on days when snow covered the streets, or the cold
was so excessive as to cause the usual procession through the streets
to be dispensed with. As the churches in Naples are not heated, the
temperature within the cathedral must have been very low, probably not
above 45° Fahrenheit.
V. This very question has been submitted to scientific investigation.
The professors of the Royal University of Naples, headed by Dr.
_Nicholas Fergola_, the most eminent physicist of the faculty,
instituted a number of interesting observations, which Dr. Fergola
published. We copy from his work a table giving the actual temperature
in a number of instances, as shown by a standard thermometer which
they stationed on the altar in close proximity to the reliquary at the
time of the liquefaction:
TABLE. 395
OBSERVATIONS FOR TEMPERATURE AND TIME AND CHARACTER OF THE
LIQUEFACTION OF THE BLOOD OF ST. JANUARIUS, MADE BY THE
PROFESSORS OF THE ROYAL UNIVERSITY, NAPLES.
A, date; B, temperature, _Fahr._; C, number of minutes which
elapsed from the commencement of the exposition of the relics on the
altar, until the liquefaction of the blood; D, character of the
liquefaction.
+---------------+---+---+---------------------------------------+
|A. |B. |C. |D. |
+---------------+---+---+---------------------------------------+
|1794. Sept. 19.|80°|27´|From hard to perfectly liquid. |
| 20.|80 |21 | ” ” ” liquid. |
| 21.|80 |19 | ” ” ” ” |
| 22.|78 |24 | ” ” ” ” |
| 23.|77 |25 | ” ” ” ” |
| 24.|78 |5 | ” ” ” ” |
| 25.|80 |10 | ” ” ” ” |
| 26.|77 |5 | ” ” ” ” |
|1795. May. 2.|76 |12 | ” ” ” semi-liquid. |
| 3.|76 |2 | ” ” ” perfectly liquid. |
| 4.|77 |41 | ” ” ” liquid.* |
| 5.|80 |22 | ” ” ” ” * |
| 6.|75 |12 | ” ” ” ” * |
| 7.|76 |29 | ” ” ” ” * |
| 8.|77 |29 | ” ” ” ” * |
| 9.|80 |33 | ” ” ” ” * |
| 10.|67 |15 | ” ” ” ” * |
|1795. Sept. 19.|74 |25 | ” ” ” ” with floating lump.|
| 20.|78 |26 | ” ” ” perfectly liquid. |
| 21.|81 |27 | ” ” ” ” ” |
| 22.|78 |25 | ” ” ” ” ” |
| 23.|80 |24 | ” ” ” ” ” |
| 24.|81 |32 | ” ” ” ” ” |
| 25.|78 |18 | ” ” ” ” ” |
| 26.|74 |3 | ” ” ” ” ” |
+---------------+---+---+---------------------------------------+
On the six days in May, marked *, the reliquary was placed on its
stand on the altar about mid-day, for the afternoon intermissions. A
silk veil was thrown over it; and it was left undisturbed until after
3 P.M. At that hour, the blood was found hard each day; and
subsequently it liquefied again, during the afternoon service.
The foregoing very important table speaks for itself. Once the
temperature stood at 67°, and the liquefaction took place in 15
minutes, although the day before, with the thermometer standing at
80°, it had been delayed more than twice that time. Twice the
thermometer marked 74°; the liquefaction was delayed in one instance
only 3 minutes; in the other, full 25 minutes. Once the temperature
was 75°. In that case 12 minutes of delay were counted. Thrice it was
76°; and the times were 2 minutes, 12 minutes, and 29 minutes. Four
times it was 77°; the liquefaction occurred after a lapse of 5, 25,
29, and 41 minutes, respectively. Five times the thermometer stood at
78°; and the times of delay in the several cases were 5, 18, 24, 25,
and 26 minutes. Seven times it stood at 80°; and the delays were
respectively 10, 19, 21, 22, 24, 27, and 33 minutes. The highest point
observed at the time of the liquefaction was 81°. It was reached
twice. Here again the times differed. On one occasion the liquefaction
was delayed 27 minutes; on the other, 32 minutes.
In view of these varied results from so many careful tests, the
commission of professors could only report, as they did, and as Dr. 396
Fergola maintains in his essay, that the liquefaction of the blood of
St. Januarius evidently does not depend on the degree of heat to which
it is subjected during the expositions.
VI. The same conclusion may also be reached by a single consideration.
When a solid substance is liquefied or melted by heat, it will
continue liquid if the heat is kept at the same temperature or rises.
It will resume its solid condition only when the temperature falls
below that degree which is the melting point of the substance.
Now, in those summer days which we have spoken of--such as the six
days of May, 1795, marked in the table of Fergola--days on which the
Neapolitans seek the repose of a _siesta_--the hottest hours are from
12 M. to 3 P.M. During these hours, the temperature is naturally
higher than it was at 9.30 or 10 A.M., or is afterward at 4 P.M., or
later. Yet the blood, which liquefied at 9.30 or 10 A.M., almost
invariably becomes solid again during these hottest hours, if the
reliquary be placed on the altar and a silk veil thrown over it, and
it liquefies again during the afternoon exposition, although the heat
of the day is then sensibly diminishing.
The more accurately and carefully the facts of the liquefaction are
studied, the more clearly do we see that it does not depend on
temperature, general or local. It is not produced by the action of
heat.
This exclusion of the agency of heat has “considerably exercised” some
of the opponents of the liquefaction of the blood of St. Januarius.
Confident that all miracles are, now at least, inadmissible, and that
this and every other alleged miracle is susceptible of a natural
explanation, if we only knew it, they eagerly catch at any, even the
most far-fetched and improbable theories, and put them forward with
equal inconsiderateness and confidence.
We have heard it said: Oh! Naples is an exceptional, volcanic
district. There may exist there some occult or obscure volcanic
agency, which suffices to produce the liquefaction; who can tell what
strange results may come from a combination of all the volcanic
agencies ever at work in that vicinity?
Is Naples the only volcanic district in the world? Does any other
volcanic district present anything like this liquefaction, or
calculated to throw light on it? Even in Naples, is there another
similar example? And has not this liquefaction continued regularly,
even when Vesuvius was quiescent for a long term of years. Previous to
December, 1631, the volcano had slumbered in perfect tranquillity for
nearly two centuries. A French traveller tells of the flocks of cattle
he saw browsing within the very crater itself, then a vast green
valley sunk in the plateau forming the top of the mountain. Yet all
this while the liquefactions continued as they had done before, and as
they have done ever since, in other seasons of quiet, and in seasons
of active volcanic eruption.
And then, we ask, what other sign or indication is there giving
evidence of this natural influence or law? And what sort of a natural
law is that which acts only on one single vial of blood, and has not
acted on the thousands of others in the same conditions.
Again, it has been urged, in much the same strain, that our knowledge
of the laws of nature is still very imperfect. Many laws are as yet
undiscovered. Every year is marked by some advance in our knowledge of
them. It by no means follows that this liquefaction is miraculous, 397
merely because as yet we are unable to assign the precise law or laws
of nature which govern it. Perhaps, some time, men will discover them.
Then all will be plain. Until then, they tell us, philosophy requires
us to note carefully and accurately the facts of the case, and to wait
for some explanation or solution of them in the future.
It is always well to take note of the facts, and to make our theories
subordinate to those facts. What we find fault with our opponents for,
in this question, is that they do precisely the reverse: they fix a
theory in their minds, and if the facts of the case do not agree with
their theory, why, so much the worse for the facts.
One word on the laws of nature. Although there may be many of which we
have now no knowledge, and which we may hereafter discover, still we
do know some. These may be supplemented--they cannot be contradicted
or reversed by any laws hereafter to be discovered. The legitimate
conclusions based on the certain knowledge which we have, are not to
be impugned or held doubtful until we discover other laws. We do know,
for example, that when a man’s head is severed from his body, he dies.
All the known and unknown laws of nature cannot make him live again.
It will not do to base an argument in one paragraph on the invariable
uniformity of law and order in nature, and, in the next, to maintain
that we are as yet all at sea about these laws.
Among the well-known and uncontested laws of nature by which we may be
guided in our argument, are several which have a close connection with
the subject before us. We refer to them.
I. We know that solid bodies become liquid by increase of temperature;
for each body, there is a certain melting-point. Above that, the solid
body becomes liquid; below that, it remains solid, or returns to
solidity.
II. The same liquid, at the same temperature, has the same volume, or
occupies the same space. It is on this law that our thermometers are
constructed.
These two laws are known and established beyond doubt, if anything is
known or established beyond doubt in physical science. Let us consider
them in reference to the substance which is seen to liquefy in the
vial or ampulla in the reliquary.
I. This substance has no fixed melting-point. Looking at Fergola’s
table, we see that it liquefied one day at 67° in 15 minutes, while
the day before, at 80°, it liquefied only in 33 minutes. One day at
76° it liquefied perfectly in 2 minutes, and the next day at 77° it
occupied 41 minutes. It has liquefied in the month of January, during
a procession in the public street, while it was borne aloft on a
stand, and freely exposed to the general temperature--then probably
between 50° and 60°, if not lower. At other times, in midsummer, with
a temperature over 80°, it has remained solid and unliquefied for
hours and for days. Nay, after having become liquid, it frequently
solidifies again, just at the hours between 12 M. to 3 P.M., when the
heat of the day reaches its maximum. It is clear that this
liquefaction completely sets aside the first-mentioned law of the
melting-point.
II. The law of volume is set aside with equal peremptoriness. As you
look at the liquid in the vial, you see that it changes in volume,
either increasing or decreasing. Sometimes the liquid occupies only
about three-fourths of the space within the vial. Before your eyes, it 398
will increase, sometimes with froth, sometimes even bubbling more or
less violently, sometimes retaining a perfectly tranquil and level
surface; sometimes rising very slowly, sometimes rapidly; and it may
continue to rise until it fills the vial. Or again, if the vial be
full, or nearly full, the liquid within it will sink, either suddenly
or gradually, hour by hour, with or without froth or bubbling, until
it occupies perhaps three-fourths of the space. These changes take
place in summer and in winter indifferently. They are entirely
independent of the temperature. They evidently set aside the second
law we have recited regarding volume.
III. A third law of nature is, that her steps are forward and not
backward. A movement once made is never revoked. Chemical changes are
progressive, and, so long as the ingredients and agents remain the
same, they never go back to repeat a combination which has once been
made and then changed for another.
Yet continual repetitions of the same forms, combinations, or
conditions of the substance within the ampulla are a special
characteristic of the liquefactions.
We will produce, hereafter, in a fitting place, evidence that for
centuries the ampulla has not been opened, and consequently that its
contents have not been changed. Nevertheless, the alternate hardenings
and liquefactions, the variations of color, the frothing, and the
ebullitions, and the increases and decreases of volume, have continued
to succeed each other, and to be repeated hundreds, some of them
thousands, of times.
Nay, leaving aside for the moment these longer periods, and confining
our examination to the ten or twelve hours of a single day, during
which the ampulla is all the while under the public gaze, and any
interference of chemical art with the contents is absolutely
impossible, we still find these repetitions of the same form or
combination. The blood was solid when first taken out, it liquefied,
stood liquid for an hour or two, solidified again, and again
liquefied. Perhaps it solidified a third time, and a third time
liquefied. It commenced to froth, and it ceased, then commenced again,
and again ceased. It changed color, and again returned to the prestine
tint. It changed in bulk, either increasing or decreasing, and again
returned to its former level.
This reiteration of some or of all of these changes, in a single day,
while the ingredients in the ampulla are evidently neither added to
nor diminished, is contrary to the course of nature. The opposition is
seen, the same in character, but manifested in vaster proportions,
when evidence compels us to admit that the substance in the ampulla
has not been changed or meddled with for years, and even for
centuries; while yet these reiterations ever continue. The argument is
the same in both instances.
There is no uncertainty as to the facts of the liquefaction or the
well-known laws of nature which we have referred to. Nor is there any
doubt that the facts are violations of those laws. Other laws of
nature, yet to be discovered, may fill gaps in our knowledge, and may
complement the laws already known. None will be discovered to
contradict or upset them. It is as vain to wait for the discovery of
some unknown law which may account for the facts of the liquefaction,
as it would be to look for some other unknown law of nature in virtue
of which Lazarus lived again, and came forth from the tomb--a law 399
which, curiously enough, happened to act just at the moment when our
Saviour stood before the tomb, and cried out: “_Lazarus, come forth._”
Can anything be more absurd than this theory which, with words of
seeming scientific caution and of wide philosophic views, would
attribute the liquefaction to the action of some as yet undiscovered
laws. In truth, what sort of a regular natural law would that be which
manifests its unshakable uniformity by somehow or other coming into
play, and producing the liquefaction, just at those precise days,
hours, and places which men have from time to time selected, because
convenient to them or suited to their thoughts of religion--a law
which caused the blood to liquefy regularly on the 14th of January,
each year, so long as that day was celebrated as a festival; and
skipped back to December 16 when a new festival on that day was
substituted instead--which is ready to put off the liquefaction from
the 16th of December to the Sunday following, whether the delay be of
one, two, three, four, five, or six days, according to the day of the
week on which the 16th may fall, and continues its complaisant action
for the quarter of a century during which several archbishops of
Naples preferred a celebration on the Sunday after to a celebration on
the 16th of December itself; and which was quite ready to go back
again to liquefying the blood on the 16th of December as soon as
another archbishop decided to return to the old usage--which is
equally accommodating in May, and always commences its series of
liquefactions for nine consecutive days precisely on the Saturday
before the first Sunday in May, regardless of whether it fell on April
30 or any day after up to and including May 6--and which, stranger
yet, has been known often to adapt itself to the journeyings of
strangers coming to Naples, and to bring into play its power of
liquefaction on the very days and hours when these strangers could
come to the _tesoro_ chapel, and the ecclesiastical and the civil
authorities had come to an understanding, and the relics were brought
out and placed on the altar?
It is useless to multiply words. The theory of general law must be
ruled out, as utterly inconsistent with the facts of the case.
Whenever the liquefaction occurs, it must be each time in consequence
of something done or occurring on that occasion; either because of
something done by man intentionally and advisedly for the
express purpose of producing the liquefaction, or perchance
unintentionally--that is, without a knowledge of the effect to
follow--or else because of the exercise on the part of God of his
supernatural power, in answer to the faith and earnest prayers of a
believing people. In this case, it is a miracle, as the Neapolitans
and those who agree with them steadfastly hold it to be.
We have already stated facts amply sufficient to exclude one arm of
this alternative. The liquefaction cannot be the natural result of any
action of man, whether intentional or accidental. Any liquefaction
produced by the art of man would of course be within the sphere of
natural action, and would necessarily be subject to the natural laws
of liquefaction. If produced by heat, the law of the melting-point
would be observed. If it in any way depended on the mutual action of
chemical ingredients, the laws of such action would never be seen to
be reversed and set aside repeatedly, even in a single day. In
whatever way the liquid was obtained, it would observe the law of 400
constant volume at the same temperature, and would not so frequently
either decrease or increase its bulk. In one word, man has no power to
set aside the laws of nature as we plainly see them set aside in this
liquefaction. We are forced to conclude that it is not his work. The
liquefaction which is seen at Naples is not, and cannot possibly be,
the natural result of any art or skill, or of any blundering of the
Neapolitan clergy.
This will be made still clearer if circumstances allow us to examine
somewhat in detail, as we hope to do in a closing article, the various
solutions which have been proposed, and the attempted imitations of
this liquefaction. Their signal failure in every instance serves as
practical confirmations of the conclusion to which we have been
already led. If with the aids of science and skill at their command,
men have failed to reproduce the liquefaction of the blood of St.
Januarius, is it not clear that the priests and monks of Naples are
not competent of themselves to produce the original?
The liquefaction must be, as the Neapolitans hold it to be, a
_miracle_--a fact contrary to the laws of nature, wrought by the
power of God for a purpose worthy of himself.
----------
THE PRINCETON REVIEW ON DR. FABER.[94]
Twenty years ago, Dr. Newman delivered a series of lectures on “The
Present Position of Catholics in England.” The scope of these lectures
was the exposition of the English Protestant view of the Catholic
Church. Dr. Newman showed, with an ability, skill, and cogency of
argument, a mastery of language, a wealth of illustration, and a
keenness of satire which even he has rarely equalled in his voluminous
writings, what is the nature, origin, basis, and life of this view.
Its sustaining power, he proves, is _tradition_, its basis _fable_,
its life _prejudice_, its protection ignorance. We take the liberty of
recommending this volume to the writer whom we are now intending to
criticise, to the conductors of the distinguished review for which he
writes, and to the clergy and reading laity in general of his
eminently respectable denomination. The indignation to which the
British Lion was roused, and the fierce assault which he made upon the
illustrious athlete who entered his cage and took him by the beard of
prejudice, so thick, of such ancient growth, and so venerable in his
own eyes, is an evidence of the power of Dr. Newman’s arm and the
efficacy of his weapon. The exposure which he made of one of the
apostate traducers of the Catholic religion, after whom the English
public for a while ran open-mouthed, gave occasion to a prosecution
for libel, as the result of which Dr. Newman was condemned to a fine
and imprisonment. It was a striking illustration and confirmation of
what Dr. Newman had so boldly declared. The consequence has been 401
that the person whom Dr. Newman was judged by the English jury to have
libelled stands just where he did before the sentence was pronounced,
and that Dr. Newman himself is fawned upon by the British Lion with
almost the affection which another lion felt for Androcles when he
drew a thorn from his paw.
The old Protestant tradition or view about Catholics lingers still
about its ancient haunts in England, and probably survives in the
minds of a majority of the English people. Its force is, however,
diminished, and its prestige is waning, thanks, in great part, to Dr.
Newman, but in a considerable measure also to his gifted and holy
friend and disciple, Dr. Faber. In the United States, the Protestant
view and tradition about Catholics was colonized along with the other
British institutions which the first settlers transplanted from the
mother country. It has given way in part within the last quarter of a
century, and with more facility than in England. Yet it still retains
an extensive and strong hold upon our soil, and needs many vigorous
efforts in order that it may be wholly uprooted. The article we are
reviewing is an instance and an evidence of the condition in which
this old Protestant view is lying at present in a large class of
minds, of whom the author may be taken as a representative. On the one
hand, his whole tone and line of thought and reasoning is a perfect
illustration of the thesis of Dr. Newman’s lectures. On the other, his
manner of speaking about Dr. Faber and his writings shows the
beginning of a caving-in of the great dyke of prejudice even among the
stricter and more old-fashioned Protestants. As to the way in which a
Catholic should endeavor to open a breach for the tide through this
heap of sand, Dr. Newman has shown it to such perfection in his
aforesaid lectures that we can only follow out and apply his method,
and push forward in some new directions the work which he has
substantially completed. We will, therefore, begin by a somewhat long
quotation from one of these lectures, as the basis of the remarks we
have to make ourselves, in which we shall endeavor to make the line of
argument adopted by Dr. Newman bear more directly and in detail upon
certain specific topics brought to view in the article under notice:
“PREJUDICE THE LIFE OF THE PROTESTANT VIEW.
“In attributing the extreme aversion and contempt in which we
Catholics are held by this great Protestant country to the
influence of falsehood and misrepresentation, energetic in its
operation and unbounded in its extent, I believe in my heart I
have referred it to a cause which will be acknowledged to be both
real and necessary by the majority of thoughtful minds, Catholic
or not, who set themselves to examine the state of the case. Take
an educated man, who has seen the world, and interested himself
in the religious bodies, disputes, and events of the day--let him
be ever so ill-disposed towards the Catholic Church, yet I think,
if he will but throw his mind upon the subject, and then candidly
speak out, he will confess that the arguments which lead him to
his present state of feeling about her, whatever they are, would
not be sufficient for the multitude of men. The multitude, if it
is to be arrested and moved, requires altogether a different
polemic from that which is at the command of the man of letters,
of thought, of feeling, and of honor. His proofs against
Catholicism, though he considers them sufficient himself, and
considers that they ought to be sufficient for the multitude,
have a sobriety, a delicacy, an exactness, a nice adjustment of
parts, a width and breadth, a philosophical cumulativeness, an
indirectness and circuitousness, which will be lost on the
generality of men. The problem is, how to make an impression on
those who have never learned to exercise their minds, to compare 402
thought with thought, to analyze an argument or to balance
probabilities. The Catholic Church appeals to the imagination, as
a great fact, wherever she comes; she strikes it: Protestants
must find some idea equally captivating as she is, something
fascinating, something capable of possessing, engrossing, and
overwhelming, if they are to battle with her hopefully: their
cause is lost unless they can do this. It was, then, a thought of
genius, and, as I think, superhuman genius, to pitch upon the
expedient which has been used against the church from Christ’s
age to our own; to call her, as in the first century Beelzebub,
so in the sixteenth Antichrist; it was a bold, politic, and
successful move. It startled men who heard; and whereas
Antichrist, by the very notion of his character, will counterfeit
Christ, he will therefore be, so far, necessarily like him; and,
if Antichrist is like Christ, then Christ, I suppose, must be
like Antichrist; thus, there was, even at first starting, a
felicitous plausibility about the very charge which went far
towards securing belief, while it commanded attention.
“This, however, though much, was not enough; the charge that
Christ is Antichrist must not only be made, but must be
sustained; and sustained it could not possibly be, in the
vastness and enormity of its idea, as I have described it, by
means of truth. Falsehood, then, has ever been the indispensable
condition of the impeachment which Protestants have made; and the
impeachment they make is the indispensable weapon wherewith to
encounter the antagonist whom they combat. Thus you see that
calumny and obloquy of every kind is, from the nature of the
case, the portion of the church while she has enemies--that is,
in other words, while she is militant--her position, that is, if
she is to be argued with at all; and argued with she must be,
because man, from the very force of his moral constitution,
cannot content himself in his warfare, of whatever kind, with the
mere use of brute force. The lion rends his prey, and gives no
reason for doing so; but man cannot persecute without assigning
to himself a reason for his act; he must settle it with his
conscience; he must have sufficient reasons, and, if good reasons
are not forthcoming, there is no help for it; he must put up with
bad. How to conflict with the moral influence of the church
being taken as the problem to be solved, nothing is left but to
misstate and defame; there is no alternative. Tame facts,
elaborate inductions, subtle presumptions, will not avail with
the many; something which will cut a dash, something gaudy and
staring, something inflammatory, is the rhetoric in request. He
must make up his mind, then, to resign the populace to the action
of the Catholic Church, or he must slander her to her greater
confusion. This, I maintain, is the case; this, I consider,
_must_ be the case; bad logic, false facts; and I really do
think that candid men, of whatever persuasion, though they will
not express themselves exactly in the words I have used, will
agree with me in substance; will allow that, putting aside the
question whether Protestantism can be supported by any other
method than controversy--for instance, by simple establishment,
or by depriving Catholics of education, or by any other violent
expedient--still, if popular controversy _is_ to be used, then
fable, not truth; calumny, not justice, will be its staple. Strip
it of its fallacies and its fiction, and where are you?”[95]
Where would the Rev. Mr. Scribner be if his article were stripped of
its fallacies and its fiction? What would become of the _Princeton
Review_ if it should publish a fair and favorable account of the
life and writings of Dr. Faber, without the potent antidote
administered along with that sweet draught of stolen waters which
might otherwise prove too alluring to some of the young and candid
members of the Presbyterian flock? The writer of the article, who has
evidently been educated in the old-fashioned Protestant tradition
about the Catholic Church, has fallen in love with Dr. Faber and his
works, and with the greatest frankness and candor has opened his mind
to the public. We can see plainly reflected in his pages the
astonishment which came over him as he began and went on from volume to
volume of the writings of the eloquent Oratorian, and from page to 403
page of his charming biography. We can see, with equal distinctness,
how he fell back on the old Protestant view, the old prejudice, with a
sort of violent effort, in order to protect himself against the new
light which had beamed on his mind and the new sentiments which had
stolen unbidden into his heart. Moreover, since he could not deny
himself the pleasure of communicating the new treasure he had found to
his fellow-Presbyterians, he could not help feeling that they also
needed a safeguard, and could find none that would answer except the
old one behind whose shelter he had hidden himself. Suppose that a
number of earnest and inquisitive Presbyterians should be induced, by
reading the sketch of Dr. Faber’s life and writings furnished by one
of their own pastors, to purchase or borrow the books which he so much
delights in? Suppose they should come to the conclusion that the
beautiful character of F. Faber is a fair specimen of the fruit which
the Catholic religion produces? That his doctrine is really and truly
the Catholic doctrine which flows from the lips of all our preachers
and from the pens of all our spiritual writers? Suppose these same
persons should meet with some priest possessing somewhat of the same
spirit with F. Faber, should listen to his conversation and hear his
sermons, or should perhaps attend a mission or retreat? We ask the
question, not as a Catholic, but as any one might ask it, and simply
looking at it as a question of the gain or loss of vantage-ground by
the respective parties. Does not any one see, that whereas we have
need of nothing more than a fair chance to compare the evidence, the
excellence, the attractiveness of the two religions, in order to hold
our old ground and gain new, the Presbyterian has lost the greatest
advantage he has hitherto possessed, as soon as the frightful cloud of
odium which the old Protestant view has thrown around us has been
dissipated? Therefore, that odium must be kept up; that antecedent
impossibility that there can be any truth in the claims of the
Catholic Church because it is so very wicked, must be placed as a bar
to the ingress of every argument. So has the Rev. Mr. Scribner
reasoned and acted. We will not impute to him a deliberate and
conscious purpose to falsify or calumniate, and are willing to admit
that he is probably in a great measure the victim of the gigantic
fraud which he indorses and recommends. His language about the
Catholic Church and her hierarchy is of that kind which might justly
cause the cheek of any one not steeled to the endurance of the
grossest insults to mantle with indignation. But, when we reflect on
the fact that many honest, candid, and well-disposed minds are duped
to such an extent by this fraudulent Protestant tradition that they
are almost incapable of seeing anything except through its medium, we
are more inclined to pity than anger. It is a great misfortune, even
when it is not a wilful fault, to be under the control of this horrid
delusion, this gloomy nightmare, which besets the very cradle, haunts
the nursery, and sits brooding and glowering on the breast of so great
a multitude of our fellow-Christians. We will, therefore, try to do
something to relieve them of this incubus, and to lead them to think
and feel more rationally and justly about Catholics and their
religion. We will take the expression of the common Protestant view by
the author before us in its objective sense, without reference to his 404
personal and subjective motives in repeating such ignominious charges,
and simply examine them in themselves and with reference to the
grounds on which they rest.
The first passage we quote is the last sentence of the article. It is
expressed conditionally as to the form, because the direct statement
of the author was quite different, and apparently contrary to it. Yet
it does not appear that the author entertains any doubt, or at least
intends to suggest any doubt, of its truth:
“We may admit that the Papacy is the Mystical Babylon, the
Scarlet Woman, the Antichrist drunk with the blood of the saints,
‘the great Whore which did corrupt the earth with her
fornication,’ and yet believe that God has a people in the Church
of Rome who live and die within her pale.”
Here we have what Dr. Newman calls the “expedient of superhuman
genius,” the startling, fascinating, terrifying idea, the Protestant
view, which forestalls all argument by prepossessing the imagination
with a nightmare of preternatural horror. The writer has had this
image before him from a child. He alludes to it as something well
known to his readers. It is like the “Old Smoker” in the chimney, or
the goblin in the garret, or the mad bull around the corner, waiting
to execute vengeance on naughty little girls and boys who ask
questions. We find it very difficult to argue seriously against this
chimera. It is like arguing against the odd fancy of the eccentric
Jesuit Hardouin, that the North American Indians are the descendants
of devils. It is revolting or ludicrous as it is looked at in
different lights. It appears to our mind to be vulgar, silly,
superstitious, and fanatical. Not, of course, because it is the use of
language and imagery taken from the Scripture, but because it is a
wholly arbitrary, fanciful, and unwarrantable use and application of
such language and imagery. It is like the grotesque use of Scriptural
names and images by the fanatics of the Cromwellian revolution. It is
assumed as something certain and well known that the Papacy is
foretold and described in these prophetic visions and predictions, as
certain and well known as the interpretation of Joseph’s dream, the
dreams of the chief butler and chief baker of Pharaoh, the vision of
Nabuchodonosor, or the Messianic predictions of Daniel. Nothing short
of this would justify the manner in which Protestant writers apply
these terms to the Roman Church, and shut out all calm and sober
consideration of her claims and doctrines by an appeal to the
prophecies respecting Antichrist and Babylon. You cannot argue from a
mere hypothesis, as if it were a fact or a certain truth. In this
case, the entire probability of the hypothesis depends on first
proving that the Roman Church really possesses and exhibits the
qualities which must belong to the objects of the prediction. A sober
and rational inquiry into the real meaning of these sublime, terrible,
and obscure prophecies exacts, first of all, a study of the
interpretation of the fathers. It requires, moreover, an examination
and due appreciation of the expositions of Catholic commentators. It
must be dispassionate and scientific in its character. Now, the vulgar
Protestant application of these prophecies to the Roman Church has
none of these characteristics. It finds no countenance from any
writers before the time of the so-called Reformation. It was invented
and used as a convenient and telling weapon of assault. It is rejected
by some of the eminent scholars of the Protestant persuasion. On what 405
does it rest? On nothing but the conjectural interpretation of a
certain number of individuals. We should find no difficulty in proving
its absurdity and falsity if we chose to undertake the task. But that
is not our object. All we contend for at present is, that it is an
irrational and abusive employment of terms to call the Roman Church by
the names of symbolic persons or objects in the prophecies, as if it
were certain that this application is just and true, and that these
names need only to be repeated in order to designate the Catholic
religion as a detestable monster, to be shunned and fled from, but not
to be approached and fearlessly examined.
As the Rev. Mr. Scribner has been haunted from infancy by these
Apocalyptic monsters, and has always associated them in his
imagination with the Roman Church, it is quite natural that
distinctive Catholic doctrines should appear to him clothed with the
same alarming and hideous outward semblance of monstrosity. So, then,
he says that,
“Even if the sincerity of some who profess to have been converted
to the belief of the _monstrous doctrines_ of transubstantiation,
the sacrifice of the Mass, the supremacy of the Pope, purgatory,
the worship of the saints, and the adoration of the Virgin, must
be admitted, still there are some who have secret doubts as to
the possibility of such persons being true Christians” (p. 516).
Why are these doctrines called _monstrous_? Doubtless, all error is
more or less monstrous, as a greater or less distortion of the truth.
Therefore, one who considers these doctrines erroneous might mean no
more in calling them monstrous than if he said they are great errors.
But it seems to us that our author used the word to express an
antecedent, obvious monstrosity of some sort, which makes these
doctrines incredible in themselves, without any reference to the fact
of their being either proved or disproved to be parts of revealed
doctrine. Now, looking at the matter as if we were mere inquirers or
philosophers, what is there more incredible in the doctrine of
transubstantiation than in that of the Incarnation, in the sacrifice
of the Mass than in that of the Cross, in the supremacy of the Pope
than in the supremacy of the twelve apostles, in purgatory than in
hell, in the worship of the saints and the Virgin than in the divine
adoration of the humanity of Christ? Whoever will take the trouble to
read our philosophers and theologians, will find that they demonstrate
the futility of all the antecedent objections which can be made to the
credibility of any Catholic doctrines. As to the arguments in proof of
these doctrines from Scripture, tradition, and reason, whoever
maintains that they are so obviously proved to be false by the
contrary arguments, that it is only a monstrous ignorance, folly,
credulity, or wickedness which can induce any one to hold them as
Christian doctrines, had better favor the public with a clear and
succinct treatise containing the reasons for his opinion. It might,
perhaps, answer the purpose of a Protestant _End of Controversy_,
which has been a great desideratum for a long time.
When he incidentally hits on the subject of relics and miracles, our
estimable author is still more overcome. Dr. Faber, in his eyes, is
always a charming, grown-up infant, who is only made more lovely and
attractive by believing everything. But not so with those who cannot
claim his sympathy for their sweet simplicity, and must be considered
as grown-up men:
“With the exception of a few such men as Faber, it is not to be 406
believed for a moment that the educated prelates and priesthood
of the Romish Church have themselves a particle of faith in what
they teach the people concerning their Popish legends. We do not
know what to think of the man who does not feel intense
indignation at the bare thought of Pope, cardinals, and priests
all encouraging the people to reverence the disgusting pretended
relics with which their churches are filled. Let it be remembered
that the highest Romish authorities in all countries continue to
this day to give their sanction to _what they know to be
imposition_ on the credulity of the people; and can it be
doubted that even the most bigoted person, if he knew the real
facts, would question the truth of a system which rests so
extensively on known and deliberate deception?” (p. 528).
There is something which seems so honest and unpremeditated about this
outburst of indignation that we are disposed to give the author the
benefit of that excuse of childlike simplicity which he so kindly
makes good in behalf of Dr. Faber. He has no thought of proving his
assertions, does not seem to think they require any proof, or that
they can be questioned by any one who is not ignorant and bigoted.
_Let it be remembered_, he says, as of something learned in childhood,
like the rules of grammar or the date of the discovery of America.
Evidently, here is the old Protestant view, the old tradition, which
has all the force of an infallible authority. Now, it is not the fault
of Presbyterians and other Protestants that they have had this
prejudice instilled into their minds in youth. While their ignorance
is invincible, it is also inculpable. But if they adhere to it without
reason, through supine indifference to truth or affection for their
old prejudices, when their attention has been called to the reasons
and motives for doubt and examination, they become morally blameworthy.
A simple denial of the truth of the accusations made in the foregoing
paragraph, on our part, is enough to destroy all their prestige in the
mind of any candid and intelligent Presbyterian who is not ignorant or
bigoted. Our word carries as much moral weight as that of the
conductors of the _Princeton Review_. And we deny emphatically,
invoking God as a witness to our sincerity and truth, every item of the
foregoing accusation. It is an atrocious calumny, and those who have
uttered it are bound to prove it or retract it, even if they have been
themselves deceived, and have had no intention to calumniate. This is all
the reply we have to make to the attack on the personal honor and integrity
of the Catholic priesthood. But in regard to the topic itself of relics and
miracles, we will say a word out of charity to our bewildered and indignant
friend, and to all like him who are willing to hear the other side.
_Disgusting pretended relics._ What is the sense of that word
_disgusting_? Does it mean that real relics are disgusting,
or that pretended relics are disgusting because of the imposition? If
it mean the former, we do not understand the feeling any more than we
understand the feeling of one who is disgusted with the furniture
which has been in the family for a long time. You cannot argue the
question in that way. The only way of arguing the matter at all is to
discuss the matter itself. If the relics of the saints are entitled to
reverence, and have a secret, miraculous power, the feeling of disgust
is simply an abnormal and senseless feeling, which ought to be
suppressed by an act of the will. If it is a question about the
genuineness of the relics, no one who is not grossly ignorant of
history can be unaware of the fact that, from the second century down,
relics of martyrs and saints have been highly honored and religiously 407
preserved. There has never been any difficulty in procuring genuine
relics in abundance of the contemporary saints. As regards the relics
of the cross, and other relics connected with the persons of our Lord,
the Blessed Virgin, the apostles, and the most ancient and illustrious
saints, we must refer the curious reader to books for information. We
can only strike, so to speak, a few random blows at the prejudice
which encrusts the Protestant mind, and endeavor to crack it. We
merely wish to convince our friends of the absurdity of their hasty
and wholesale condemnation of our motives, spirit, doctrines, and
practices, that they may think it worth while really to examine the
matter with seriousness. So, without going into any general
examination of relics universally, we will just take up an instance of
a particular case of relics in the house where we are writing, as an
example of our ordinary and practical conduct in respect to relics. In
an oratory which is used for private devotion, there is placed above
the altar a large and ornamental sarcophagus, the front and sides of
which are of plate glass. Within is a wax figure of a Roman youth
reclining on a crimson couch, dressed in crimson silk, crowned with a
chaplet of flowers, and with the eyes closed as if he had just died.
Within the breast is a reliquary, with relics of a body taken from the
Roman catacombs. In the corner is a phial, marked with a red ribbon,
and which once contained blood. These are the relics of Justinus, a
young martyr of Rome, which are duly and officially authenticated as
having been taken from the Catacombs. Now, whoever knows anything of
Roman archæology knows that the most learned and careful antiquarians
give us certain marks by which the remains of martyrs may be
identified. The Rev. Mr. Scribner will not hazard his reputation as a
scholar, we presume, by classing the folios of De Rossi and other
savants of Rome among the impostures of priestcraft. We have, then,
the relics of a true martyr, arranged and placed in such a way as to
make an object of contemplation to the eye of taste and of Christian
faith, which is pleasing, instructive, and fitted to excite pious
emotions. What is there disgusting in this?
But then there are the legends about miracles wrought by the relics of
the saints, and other miracles. Very true, my dear friend, and, no
doubt, very puzzling and startling to one who has been accustomed to
believe that the marvellous and miraculous passed away with the age of
the Bible. But, reflect for a moment on the full extent of the
admission you will have to make to the infidel rationalist, to the
enemy of Christianity, who makes our whole religion mythical, if you
reject all this portion of the belief of Catholics as founded on the
fabulous. Read Bede’s _Ecclesiastical History of England_, the
twenty-third book of St. Augustine’s _City of God_, St. Ambrose’s
description of the discovery of the relics of SS. Gervasius and
Protasius, and Isaac Taylor’s _Ancient Christianity_. You will find
that we modern Catholics are in the same boat with the fathers, the
prelates, the Christian people of the fifth century. We float or sink
together. It seems to us, however, that before one resolves to follow
the shallow and sophistical Isaac Taylor and his servile copyist, the
translator of the _City of God_, in condemning our Christian
forefathers as the authors or the dupes of a gigantic system of
imposture, and before one pronounces a similar sentence on the whole 408
body of their modern descendants, it would be well to examine somewhat
carefully the evidence in the case. For instance, to confine ourselves
to modern times, there are: the liquefaction of the blood of St.
Januarius; the ecstatic virgins of the Tyrol, and the recent similar
case in Belgium; the miraculous conversion of the Jew Ratisbon; the
case of Mrs. Mattingly of Washington; the miracles of Lourdes; the
miraculous cure of a young lady at St. Louis, attested by three
physicians; the miracles wrought by the relics of F. Olivaint, the
martyr of Paris; the miraculous conversion of sixteen Mohammedans at
Damascus, one of whom has suffered martyrdom; and many other events,
believed by a vast number of intelligent persons, upon grounds of
evidence, to be supernatural and miraculous. We do not ask our
Protestant friends to believe these things on our word or without
evidence. We simply say that it is the part of good sense and
necessary for you, if you expect to sustain your own cause against us,
that you should examine these things, and, if you deny altogether this
whole class of professed facts, should give good reasons for it. Will
you rule the whole case out of court by a sweeping principle that
these things are in themselves impossible and incredible, and
therefore false? We defy you to do it without subverting the whole
basis on which rests the belief in the miracles of the Old and New
Testaments. Moreover, we defy any one to evade or rebut the evidence
of some of the miracles we have mentioned, especially the cure of
Bourriette at Lourdes and of Mrs. Mattingly at Washington. We mention
these, because we have given the evidence of the former in our own
pages, and of the latter in the edition of the works of Bishop
England, prepared for the press by the author of this article more
than twenty years ago. The authority of the Roman Church,
nevertheless, and the truth of the Catholic faith, do not in any
manner rest on any one or all together of the visions, revelations, or
miracles in question as their basis, and as the ground of a divine
faith. Their highest value, even when fully proved, is to confirm and
enliven our faith in truths of which we are previously certain.