before the French Academy, in June, 1842.)
Footnote 48:
Nicole, Hist. des Provinciales.
Footnote 49:
The names of these unfortunate productions alone survive; 1. “First
Reply to Letters, &c., by a Father of the Company of Jesus.” 2.
“Provincial Impostures of Sieur de Montalte, Secretary of Port-Royal,
discovered and refuted by a Father of the Company of Jesus.” 3. “Reply
to a Theologian,” &c. 4. “Reply to the Seventeenth Letter, by Francis
Annat,” &c., &c.
Footnote 50:
Eichhorn, Geschichte der Litteratur, vol. i. pp. 420–423.
Footnote 51:
Recueil de Port-Royal, pp. 314–323. Some papers passed between Pascal
and his friends on this topic. Pascal committed these on his death-bed
to his friend M. Domat, “with a request that he would burn them if the
nuns of Port-Royal proved firm, and print them if they should yield.”
(Ib., p. 322.) The nuns having stood firm, the probability is that
they were destroyed. Had they been preserved, they might have thrown
some further light on the opinions of Pascal regarding papal
authority.
Footnote 52:
_Si mes Lettres sont condamnées à Rome, ce que j’y condamne, est
condamné dans le ciel._ (Pensées de Blaise Pascal, tom. ii. 163.
Paris, 1824.)
Footnote 53:
“How came you,” said the archbishop to M. Beurrier, “to administer the
sacraments to such a person? Didn’t you know that he was a Jansenist?”
(Recueil, 348.)
Footnote 54:
Recueil de Port-Royal, pp. 327–330; Petitot, p. 165.
Footnote 55:
Walchii Biblioth. Theol., ii. 295.
Footnote 56:
The title of Nicole’s translation, now rarely to be met with, is,
_Ludovici Montaltii Litteræ Provinciales, de Morali et Politica
Jesuitarum Disciplina. A Willelmo Wendrockio, Salisburgensi Theologo._
Several editions of this translation were printed. I have the first,
published at Cologne in 1658, and the fifth, much enlarged, Cologne,
1679.
Footnote 57:
Avertissement, Les Provinciales, ed. 1767. Mad. de Joncourt, or
Joncoux, took a deep interest in the falling fortunes of Port-Royal.
(See some account of her in Madame Schimmelpenninck’s History of the
Demolition of Port-Royal, p. 135.)
Footnote 58:
Bayle, Dict., art. _Pascal_.
Footnote 59:
Daniel, Entretiens, p. 111.
Footnote 60:
Bayle, Dict., art. _Pascal_, note K.
Footnote 61:
Abbé de Castres, Les Trois Siècles, ii. 63.
Footnote 62:
Barbier, Dict. des Ouvrages Anon. et Pseudon.
Footnote 63:
Tabaraud, _Dissertation sur la foi qui est due au Temoignage de Pascal
dans ses Lettres Provinciales_, p. 12.—This work, published some years
ago in France, contains a complete justification of Pascal’s picture
of the Jesuits in the Provincials, accompanied with a mass of
authorities. The above sentiments have been introduced into Pascal’s
Thoughts. (See Craig’s translation, p. 185.)
Footnote 64:
Vie de Bossuet, t. iv. p. 19; Tabaraud, Dissert. sur la foi, &c., p.
43.
Footnote 65:
“The shocking doctrine of Jansenius and of St. Cyran, afforded at
least as much room for ridicule as the pliant doctrine of Molina,
Tambourin, and Vasquez.” (D’Alembert, Dest. of the Jesuits, p. 55.)
Footnote 66:
Voltaire, Siècle de Louis XIV., ii. 367.
Footnote 67:
Eichhorn, Geschichte der Lit., i. 426.
Footnote 68:
Prov. Let., p. 118.
Footnote 69:
Ib., p. 142.
Footnote 70:
Tabaraud, p. 117; Bord. Demoulin, Eloge de Pascal, Append.
Footnote 71:
Schlegel, Lectures on Hist. of Lit. ii. 188.
Footnote 72:
Letters from Spain, p. 86.
Footnote 73:
Macintosh, History of England, vol. ii. 359, note.
Footnote 74:
Eichhorn, Geschichte der Litter., vol. i. pp. 423–425; Weisman, Hist.
Eccl., vol. ii. 21; Jurieu, Prejugez Legitimes cont. le Papisme, p.
386; Claude, Defence of the Reformation, p. 29.
Footnote 75:
Jurieu, Justification de la Morale des Reformez, contre M. Arnauld, i.
p. 30.
Footnote 76:
A disingenuous attempt has been sometimes made to identify these
nefarious maxims with certain principles held by some of our
reformers. There is an essential difference between the natural right
claimed, we do not say with what justice, for subjects to proceed
against their rulers as tyrants, and the right assumed by the pope to
depose rulers as heretics. And it is equally easy to distinguish
between the disallowed acts of some fanatical individuals who have
taken the law into their own hands, and the atrocious deeds of such
men as Chatel and Ravaillac, who could plead the authority of Mariana
the Jesuit, that “to put tyrannical princes to death is not only a
lawful, but a laudable, heroic, and glorious action.” (Dalton’s
Jesuits; their Principles and Acts, London, 1843.) The Church of St.
Ignatius at Rome is or was adorned, it seems, with pictures of all the
assassinations mentioned in Scripture, which they have, most
presumptuously, perverted in justification of their feats in this
department. (D’Alembert, Dest. of the Jesuits, p. 101.)
Footnote 77:
Taylor, Natural Hist. of Enthusiasm, p. 256.
Footnote 78:
De l’Existence et de l’Institut des Jesuites. Par le R. P. de
Ravignan, de la Compagnie de Jesus. Paris, 1845, p. 83. _Probabilism_
is the doctrine, that if any opinion in morals has been held by any
_grave doctor_ of the Church, it is _probably true_, and may be safely
followed in practice.
Footnote 79:
Gilly, Narrative of an Excursion to Piedmont, p. 156.
Footnote 80:
Douglas on Errors in Religion, p. 113.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
THE PROVINCIAL LETTERS.
LETTER I.
DISPUTES IN THE SORBONNE, AND THE INVENTION OF PROXIMATE POWER—A TERM
EMPLOYED BY THE JESUITS TO PROCURE THE CENSURE OF M. ARNAULD.
PARIS, _January 23, 1656_.
SIR,—We were entirely mistaken. It was only yesterday that I was
undeceived. Until that time I had labored under the impression that the
disputes in the Sorbonne were vastly important, and deeply affected the
interests of religion. The frequent convocations of an assembly so
illustrious as that of the Theological Faculty of Paris, attended by so
many extraordinary and unprecedented circumstances, led one to form such
high expectations, that it was impossible to help coming to the
conclusion that the subject was most extraordinary. You will be greatly
surprised, however, when you learn from the following account, the issue
of this grand demonstration, which, having made myself perfectly master
of the subject, I shall be able to tell you in very few words.
Two questions, then, were brought under examination; the one a question
of fact, the other a question of right.
The question of fact consisted in ascertaining whether M. Arnauld was
guilty of presumption, for having asserted in his second letter[81] that
he had carefully perused the book of Jansenius, and that he had not
discovered the propositions condemned by the late pope; but that,
nevertheless, as he condemned these propositions wherever they might
occur, he condemned them in Jansenius, if they were really contained in
that work.[82]
The question here was, if he could, without presumption, entertain a
doubt that these propositions were in Jansenius, after the bishops had
declared that they were.
The matter having been brought before the Sorbonne, seventy-one doctors
undertook his defence, maintaining that the only reply he could possibly
give to the demands made upon him in so many publications, calling on
him to say if he held that these propositions were in that book, was,
that he had not been able to find them, but that if they were in the
book, he condemned them in the book.
Some even went a step farther, and protested that, after all the search
they had made into the book, they had never stumbled upon these
propositions, and that they had, on the contrary, found sentiments
entirely at variance with them. They then earnestly begged that, if any
doctor present had discovered them, he would have the goodness to point
them out; adding, that what was so easy could not reasonably be refused,
as this would be the surest way to silence the whole of them, M. Arnauld
included; but this proposal has been uniformly declined. So much for the
one side.
On the other side are eighty secular doctors, and some forty mendicant
friars, who have condemned M. Arnauld’s proposition, without choosing to
examine whether he has spoken truly or falsely—who, in fact, have
declared, that they have nothing to do with the veracity of his
proposition, but simply with its temerity.
Besides these, there were fifteen who were not in favor of the censure,
and who are called Neutrals.
Such was the issue of the question of fact, regarding which, I must say,
I give myself very little concern. It does not affect my conscience in
the least whether M. Arnauld is presumptuous, or the reverse; and should
I be tempted, from curiosity, to ascertain whether these propositions
are contained in Jansenius, his book is neither so very rare nor so very
large as to hinder me from reading it over from beginning to end, for my
own satisfaction, without consulting the Sorbonne on the matter.
Were it not, however, for the dread of being presumptuous myself, I
really think that I would be disposed to adopt the opinion which has
been formed by the most of my acquaintances, who, though they have
believed hitherto on common report that the propositions were in
Jansenius, begin now to suspect the contrary, owing to this strange
refusal to point them out—a refusal, the more extraordinary to me, as I
have not yet met with a single individual who can say that he has
discovered them in that work. I am afraid, therefore, that this censure
will do more harm than good, and that the impression which it will leave
on the minds of all who know its history will be just the reverse of the
conclusion that has been come to. The truth is, the world has become
sceptical of late, and will not believe things till it sees them. But,
as I said before, this point is of very little moment, as it has no
concern with religion.[83]
The question of right, from its affecting the faith, appears much more
important, and, accordingly, I took particular pains in examining it.
You will be relieved, however, to find that it is of as little
consequence as the former.
The point of dispute here, was an assertion of M. Arnauld’s in the same
letter, to the effect, “that the grace without which we can do nothing,
was wanting to St. Peter at his fall.” You and I supposed that the
controversy here would turn upon the great principles of grace; such as,
whether grace is given to all men? or, if it is efficacious of itself?
But we were quite mistaken. You must know I have become a great
theologian within this short time; and now for the proofs of it!
To ascertain the matter with certainty, I repaired to my neighbor, M.
N——, doctor of Navarre, who, as you are aware, is one of the keenest
opponents of the Jansenists, and my curiosity having made me almost as
keen as himself, I asked him if they would not formally decide at once
that “grace is given to all men,” and thus set the question at rest. But
he gave me a sore rebuff, and told me that that was not the point; that
there were some of his party who held that grace was not given to all;
that the examiners themselves had declared, in a full assembly of the
Sorbonne, that that opinion was _problematical_; and that he himself
held the same sentiment, which he confirmed by quoting to me what he
called that celebrated passage of St. Augustine: “We know that grace is
not given to all men.”
I apologized for having misapprehended his sentiment, and requested him
to say if they would not at least condemn that other opinion of the
Jansenists which is making so much noise, “That grace is efficacious of
itself, and invincibly determines our will to what is good.” But in this
second query I was equally unfortunate. “You know nothing about the
matter,” he said; “that is not a heresy—it is an orthodox opinion; all
the Thomists[84] maintain it; and I myself have defended it in my
Sorbonic thesis.”[85]
I did not venture again to propose my doubts, and yet I was as far as
ever from understanding where the difficulty lay; so, at last, in order
to get at it, I begged him to tell me where, then, lay the heresy of M.
Arnauld’s proposition? “It lies here,” said he, “that he does not
acknowledge that the righteous have the power of obeying the
commandments of God, in the manner in which we understand it.”
On receiving this piece of information, I took my leave of him; and,
quite proud at having discovered the knot of the question, I sought M.
N——, who is gradually getting better, and was sufficiently recovered to
conduct me to the house of his brother-in-law, who is a Jansenist, if
ever there was one, but a very good man notwithstanding. Thinking to
insure myself a better reception, I pretended to be very high on what I
took to be his side, and said: “Is it possible that the Sorbonne has
introduced into the Church such an error as this, ‘that all the
righteous have always the power of obeying the commandments of God?’”
“What say you?” replied the doctor. “Call you that an error—a sentiment
so Catholic that none but Lutherans and Calvinists impugn it?”
“Indeed!” said I, surprised in my turn; “so you are not of their
opinion?”
“No,” he replied; “we anathematize it as heretical and impious.”[86]
Confounded by this reply, I soon discovered that I had overacted the
Jansenist, as I had formerly overdone the Molinist.[87] But not being
sure if I had rightly understood him, I requested him to tell me frankly
if he held “that the righteous have always a real power to observe the
divine precepts?” Upon this the good man got warm (but it was with a
holy zeal), and protested that he would not disguise his sentiments on
any consideration—that such was, indeed, his belief, and that he and all
his party would defend it to the death, as the pure doctrine of St.
Thomas, and of St. Augustine their master.
This was spoken so seriously as to leave me no room for doubt; and under
this impression I returned to my first doctor, and said to him, with an
air of great satisfaction, that I was sure there would be peace in the
Sorbonne very soon; that the Jansenists were quite at one with them in
reference to the power of the righteous to obey the commandments of God;
that I could pledge my word for them, and could make them seal it with
their blood.
“Hold there!” said he. “One must be a theologian to see the point of
this question. The difference between us is so subtle, that it is with
some difficulty we can discern it ourselves—you will find it rather too
much for your powers of comprehension. Content yourself, then, with
knowing that it is very true the Jansenists will tell you that all the
righteous have always the power of obeying the commandments; that is not
the point in dispute between us; but mark you, they will not tell you
that that power is _proximate_. That is the point.”
This was a new and unknown word to me. Up to this moment I had managed
to understand matters, but that term involved me in obscurity; and I
verily believe that it has been invented for no other purpose than to
mystify. I requested him to give me an explanation of it, but he made a
mystery of it, and sent me back, without any further satisfaction, to
demand of the Jansenists if they would admit this _proximate power_.
Having charged my memory with the phrase (as to my understanding, that
was out of the question), I hastened with all possible expedition,
fearing that I might forget it, to my Jansenist friend, and accosted
him, immediately after our first salutations, with: “Tell me, pray, if
you admit _the proximate power_?” He smiled, and replied, coldly: “Tell
me yourself in what sense you understand it, and I may then inform you
what I think of it.” As my knowledge did not extend quite so far, I was
at a loss what reply to make; and yet, rather than lose the object of my
visit, I said at random: “Why, I understand it in the sense of the
Molinists.” “To which of the Molinists do you refer me?” replied he,
with the utmost coolness. I referred him to the whole of them together,
as forming one body, and animated by one spirit.
“You know very little about the matter,” returned he. “So far are they
from being united in sentiment, that some of them are diametrically
opposed to each other. But, being all united in the design to ruin M.
Arnauld, they have resolved to agree on this term _proximate_, which
both parties might use indiscriminately, though they understand it
diversely, that thus, by a similarity of language, and an apparent
conformity, they may form a large body, and get up a majority to crush
him with the greater certainty.”
This reply filled me with amazement; but without imbibing these
impressions of the malicious designs of the Molinists, which I am
unwilling to believe on his word, and with which I have no concern, I
set myself simply to ascertain the various senses which they give to
that mysterious word _proximate_. “I would enlighten you on the subject
with all my heart,” he said; “but you would discover in it such a mass
of contrariety and contradiction, that you would hardly believe me. You
would suspect me. To make sure of the matter, you had better learn it
from some of themselves; and I shall give you some of their addresses.
You have only to make a separate visit to one called M. le Moine,[88]
and to Father Nicolai.”[89]
“I have no acquaintance with any of these persons,” said I.
“Let me see, then,” he replied, “if you know any of those whom I shall
name to you; they all agree in sentiment with M. le Moine.”
I happened, in fact, to know some of them.
“Well, let us see if you are acquainted with any of the Dominicans whom
they call the ‘New Thomists,’[90] for they are all the same with Father
Nicolai.”
I knew some of them also whom he named; and, resolved to profit by this
counsel, and to investigate the matter, I took my leave of him, and went
immediately to one of the disciples of M. le Moine. I begged him to
inform me what it was to have the _proximate power_ of doing a thing.
“It is easy to tell you that,” he replied; “it is merely to have all
that is necessary for doing it in such a manner that nothing is wanting
to performance.”
“And so,” said I, “to have the proximate power of crossing a river, for
example, is to have a boat, boatmen, oars, and all the rest, so that
nothing is wanting?”
“Exactly so,” said the monk.
“And to have the proximate power of _seeing_,” continued I, “must be to
have good eyes and the light of day; for a person with good sight in the
dark would not have the proximate power of seeing, according to you, as
he would want the light, without which one cannot see?”
“Precisely,” said he.
“And consequently,” returned I, “when you say that all the righteous
have the proximate power of observing the commandments of God, you mean
that they have always all the grace necessary for observing them, so
that nothing is wanting to them on the part of God.”
“Stay there,” he replied; “they have always all that is necessary for
observing the commandments, or at least for asking it of God.”
“I understand you,” said I; “they have all that is necessary for praying
to God to assist them, without requiring any new grace from God to
enable them to pray.”
“You have it now,” he rejoined.
“But is it not necessary that they have an efficacious grace, in order
to pray to God?”
“No,” said he; “not according to M. le Moine.”
To lose no time, I went to the Jacobins,[91] and requested an interview
with some whom I knew to be New Thomists, and I begged them to tell me
what “proximate power” was. “Is it not,” said I, “that power to which
nothing is wanting in order to act?”
“No,” said they.
“Indeed! fathers,” said I; “if anything is wanting to that power, do you
call it proximate? Would you say, for instance, that a man in the night
time, and without any light, had the proximate power of seeing?”
“Yes, indeed, he would have it, in our opinion, if he is not blind.”
“I grant that,” said I; “but M. le Moine understands it in a different
manner.”
“Very true,” they replied; “but so it is that we understand it.”
“I have no objections to that,” I said; “for I never quarrel about a
name, provided I am apprized of the sense in which it is understood. But
I perceive from this, that when you speak of the righteous having always
the proximate power of praying to God, you understand that they require
another supply for praying, without which they will never pray.”
“Most excellent!” exclaimed the good fathers, embracing me; “exactly the
thing; for they must have, besides, an efficacious grace bestowed upon
all, and which determines their wills to pray; and it is heresy to deny
the necessity of that efficacious grace in order to pray.”
“Most excellent!” cried I, in return; “but, according to you, the
Jansenists are Catholics, and M. le Moine a heretic; for the Jansenists
maintain that, while the righteous have power to pray, they require
nevertheless an efficacious grace; and this is what you approve. M. le
Moine, again, maintains that the righteous may pray without efficacious
grace; and this is what you condemn.”
“Ay,” said they; “but M. le Moine calls that power _proximate power_.”
“How now! fathers,” I exclaimed; “this is merely playing with words, to
say that you are agreed as to the common terms which you employ, while
you differ with them as to the sense of these terms.”
The fathers made no reply; and at this juncture, who should come in but
my old friend the disciple of M. le Moine! I regarded this at the time
as an extraordinary piece of good fortune; but I have discovered since
then that such meetings are not rare—that, in fact, they are constantly
mixing in each other’s society.[92]
“I know a man,” said I, addressing myself to M. le Moine’s disciple,
“who holds that all the righteous have always the power of praying to
God, but that, notwithstanding this, they will never pray without an
efficacious grace which determines them, and which God does not always
give to all the righteous. Is he a heretic?”
“Stay,” said the doctor; “you might take me by surprise. Let us go
cautiously to work. _Distinguo._[93] If he call that power _proximate
power_, he will be a Thomist, and therefore a Catholic; if not, he will
be a Jansenist, and therefore a heretic.”
“He calls it neither proximate nor non-proximate,” said I.
“Then he is a heretic,” quoth he; “I refer you to these good fathers if
he is not.”
I did not appeal to them as judges, for they had already nodded assent;
but I said to them: “He refuses to admit that word _proximate_, because
he can meet with nobody who will explain it to him.”
Upon this one of the fathers was on the point of offering his definition
of the term, when he was interrupted by M. le Moine’s disciple, who said
to him: “Do you mean, then, to renew our broils? Have we not agreed not
to explain that word _proximate_, but to use it on both sides without
saying what it signifies?” To this the Jacobin gave his assent.
I was thus let into the whole secret of their plot; and rising to take
my leave of them, I remarked: “Indeed, fathers, I am much afraid this is
nothing better than pure chicanery; and whatever may be the result of
your convocations, I venture to predict that, though the censure should
pass, peace will not be established. For though it should be decided
that the syllables of that word _proximate_ should be pronounced, who
does not see that, the meaning not being explained, each of you will be
disposed to claim the victory? The Jacobins will contend that the word
is to be understood in their sense; M. le Moine will insist that it must
be taken in his; and thus there will be more wrangling about the
explanation of the word than about its introduction. For, after all,
there would be no great danger in adopting it without any sense, seeing
it is through the sense only that it can do any harm. But it would be
unworthy of the Sorbonne and of theology to employ equivocal and
captious terms without giving any explanation of them. In short,
fathers, tell me, I entreat you, for the last time, what is necessary to
be believed in order to be a good Catholic?”
“You must say,” they all vociferated simultaneously, “that all the
righteous have the _proximate power_, abstracting from it all sense—from
the sense of the Thomists and the sense of other divines.”