would do well, father, if you wish to preserve your doctrine, not to
explain so precisely as you have done to us, what you mean by _actual
grace_. For, how could you, without forfeiting all credit in the
estimation of men, openly declare that _nobody sins without having
previously the knowledge of his weakness, and of a physician, or the
desire of a cure, and of asking it of God_? Will it be believed, on your
word, that those who are immersed in avarice, impurity, blasphemy,
duelling, revenge, robbery and sacrilege, have really a desire to
embrace chastity, humility, and the other Christian virtues? Can it be
conceived that those philosophers who boasted so loudly of the powers of
nature, knew its infirmity and its physician? Will you maintain that
those who held it as a settled maxim that ‘it is not God that bestows
virtue, and that no one ever asked it from him,’ would think of asking
it for themselves? Who can believe that the Epicureans, who denied a
divine providence, ever felt any inclination to pray to God?—men who
said that ‘it would be an insult to invoke the Deity in our necessities,
as if he were capable of wasting a thought on beings like us?’ In a
word, how can it be imagined that idolaters and Atheists, every time
they are tempted to the commission of sin, in other words, infinitely
often during their lives, have a desire to pray to the true God, of whom
they are ignorant, that he would bestow on them virtues of which they
have no conception?”
“Yes,” said the worthy monk, in a resolute tone, “we will affirm it: and
sooner than allow that any one sins without having the consciousness
that he is doing evil, and the desire of the opposite virtue, we will
maintain that the whole world, reprobates and infidels included, have
these inspirations and desires in every case of temptation. You cannot
show me, from the Scripture at least, that this is not the truth.”
On this remark I struck in, by exclaiming: “What! father, must we have
recourse to the Scripture to demonstrate a thing so clear as this? This
is not a point of faith, nor even of reason. It is a matter of fact: we
see it—we know it—we feel it.”
But the Jansenist, keeping the monk to his own terms, addressed him as
follows: “If you are willing, father, to stand or fall by Scripture, I
am ready to meet you there; only you must promise to yield to its
authority; and since it is written that ‘God has not revealed his
judgments to the Heathen, but left them to wander in their own ways,’
you must not say that God has enlightened those whom the Sacred Writings
assure us ‘he has left in darkness and in the shadow of death.’ Is it
not enough to show the erroneousness of your principle, to find that St.
Paul calls himself ‘the chief of sinners,’ for a sin which he committed
‘ignorantly, and with zeal?’ Is it not enough to find, from the Gospel,
that those who crucified Jesus Christ had need of the pardon which he
asked for them, although they knew not the malice of their action, and
would never have committed it, according to St. Paul, if they had known
it? Is it not enough that Jesus Christ apprizes us that there will be
persecutors of the Church, who, while making every effort to ruin her,
will ‘think that they are doing God service;’ teaching us that this sin,
which in the judgment of the apostle, is the greatest of all sins, may
be committed by persons who, so far from knowing that they were sinning,
would think that they sinned by not committing it? In fine, is it not
enough that Jesus Christ himself has taught us that there are two kinds
of sinners, the one of whom sin with ‘knowledge of their Master’s will,’
and the other without knowledge; and that both of them will be
‘chastised,’ although, indeed, in a different manner?”
Sorely pressed by so many testimonies from Scripture, to which he had
appealed, the worthy monk began to give way; and, leaving the wicked to
sin without inspiration, he said: “You will not deny that _good men_, at
least, never sin unless God give them”——“You are flinching,” said I,
interrupting him; “you are flinching now, my good father; you abandon
the general principle, and finding that it will not hold good in regard
to the wicked, you would compound the matter, by making it apply at
least to the righteous. But in this point of view the application of it
is, I conceive, so circumscribed, that it will hardly apply to anybody,
and it is scarcely worth while to dispute the point.”
My friend, however, who was so ready on the whole question, that I am
inclined to think he had studied it all that very morning, replied:
“This, father, is the last entrenchment to which those of your party who
are willing to reason at all are sure to retreat; but you are far from
being safe even here. The example of the saints is not a whit more in
your favor. Who doubts that they often fall into sins of surprise,
without being conscious of them? Do we not learn from the saints
themselves how often concupiscence lays hidden snares for them; and how
generally it happens, as St. Augustine complains of himself in his
Confessions, that, with all their discretion, they ‘give to pleasure
what they mean only to give to necessity?’
“How usual is it to see the more zealous friends of truth betrayed by
the heat of controversy into sallies of bitter passion for their
personal interests, while their consciences, at the time, bear them no
other testimony than that they are acting in this manner purely for the
interests of truth, and they do not discover their mistake till long
afterwards!
“What, again, shall we say of those who, as we learn from examples in
ecclesiastical history, eagerly involve themselves in affairs which are
really bad, because they believe them to be really good; and yet this
does not hinder the fathers from condemning such persons as having
sinned on these occasions?
“And were this not the case, how could the saints have their secret
faults? How could it be true that God alone knows the magnitude and the
number of our offences; that no one knows whether he is worthy of hatred
or love; and that the best of saints, though unconscious of any
culpability, ought always, as St. Paul says of himself, to remain in
‘fear and trembling?’[126]
“You perceive, then, father, that this knowledge of the evil, and love
of the opposite virtue, which you imagine to be essential to constitute
sin, are equally disproved by the examples of the righteous and of the
wicked. In the case of the wicked, their passion for vice sufficiently
testifies that they have no desire for virtue; and in regard to the
righteous, the love which they bear to virtue plainly shows that they
are not always conscious of those sins which, as the Scripture teaches,
they are daily committing.
“So true is it, indeed, that the righteous often sin through ignorance,
that the greatest saints rarely sin otherwise. For how can it be
supposed that souls so pure, who avoid with so much care and zeal the
least things that can be displeasing to God as soon as they discover
them, and who yet sin many times every day, could possibly have, every
time before they fell into sin, ‘the knowledge of their infirmity on
that occasion, and of their physician, and the desire of their souls’
health, and of praying to God for assistance,’ and that, in spite of
these inspirations, these devoted souls ‘nevertheless transgress,’ and
commit the sin?
“You must conclude then, father, that neither sinners nor yet saints
have always that knowledge, or those desires and inspirations every time
they offend; that is, to use your own terms, they have not always actual
grace. Say no longer, with your modern authors, that it is impossible
for those to sin who do not know righteousness; but rather join with St.
Augustine and the ancient fathers in saying that it is impossible _not_
to sin, when we do not know righteousness: _Necesse est ut peccet, a quo
ignoratur justitia_.”
The good father, though thus driven from both of his positions, did not
lose courage, but after ruminating a little, “Ha!” he exclaimed, “I
shall settle you immediately.” And again taking up Father Bauny, he
pointed to the same place he had before quoted, exclaiming: “Look
now—see the ground on which he establishes his opinion! I was sure he
would not be deficient in good proofs. Read what he quotes from
Aristotle, and you will see that after so express an authority, you must
either burn the books of this prince of philosophers or adopt our
opinion. Hear, then, the principles which support Father Bauny:
Aristotle states first, ‘_that an action cannot be imputed as
blameworthy, if it be involuntary_.’”
“I grant that,” said my friend.
“This is the first time you have agreed together,” said I. “Take my
advice, father, and proceed no further.”
“That would be doing nothing,” he replied; “we must know what are the
conditions necessary to constitute an action voluntary.”
“I am much afraid,” returned I, “that you will get at loggerheads on
that point.”
“No fear of that,” said he; “this is sure ground—Aristotle is on my
side. Hear, now, what Father Bauny says: ‘In order that an action be
voluntary, it must proceed from a man who perceives, knows, and
comprehends what is good and what is evil in it. _Voluntarium est_—that
is a voluntary action, as we commonly say with the philosopher’ (that is
Aristotle, you know, said the monk, squeezing my hand;) ‘_quod fit a
principio cognoscente singula in quibus est actio_—which is done by a
person knowing the particulars of the action; so that when the will is
led inconsiderately, and without mature reflection, to embrace or
reject, to do or omit to do anything, before the understanding has been
able to see whether it would be right or wrong, such an action is
neither good nor evil; because previous to this mental inquisition,
view, and reflection on the good or bad qualities of the matter in
question, the act by which it is done is not voluntary.’ Are you
satisfied now?” said the father.
“It appears,” returned I, “that Aristotle agrees with Father Bauny; but
that does not prevent me from feeling surprised at this statement. What,
sir! is it not enough to make an action voluntary that the man knows
what he is doing, and does it just because he chooses to do it? Must we
suppose, besides this, that he ‘perceives, knows, and comprehends what
is good and evil in the action?’ Why, on this supposition there would be
hardly such a thing in nature as voluntary actions, for nobody almost
thinks about all this. How many oaths in gambling—how many excesses in
debauchery—how many riotous extravagances in the carnival, must, on this
principle, be excluded from the list of voluntary actions, and
consequently neither good nor bad, because not accompanied by those
‘mental reflections on the good and evil qualities’ of the action? But
is it possible, father, that Aristotle held such a sentiment? I have
always understood that he was a sensible man.”
“I shall soon convince you of that,” said the Jansenist; and requesting
a sight of Aristotle’s Ethics, he opened it at the beginning of the
third book, from which Father Bauny had taken the passage quoted, and
said to the monk: “I excuse you, my dear sir, for having believed, on
the word of Father Bauny, that Aristotle held such a sentiment; but you
would have changed your mind had you read him for yourself. It is true
that he teaches, that ‘in order to make an action voluntary, we must
know the particulars of that action’—_singula in quibus est actio_. But
what else does he mean by that, than the _particular circumstances_ of
the action? The examples which he adduces clearly show this to be his
meaning, for they are exclusively confined to cases in which the persons
were ignorant of some of the circumstances; such as that of ‘a person
who, wishing to exhibit a machine, discharges a dart which wounds a
bystander; and that of Merope, who killed her own son instead of her
enemy,’ and such like.
“Thus you see what is the kind of ignorance that renders actions
involuntary; namely, that of the particular circumstances, which is
termed by divines, as you must know, _ignorance of the fact_. But with
respect to _ignorance of the right_—ignorance of the good or evil in an
action—which is the only point in question, let us see if Aristotle
agrees with Father Bauny. Here are the words of the philosopher: ‘All
wicked men are ignorant of what they ought to do, and what they ought to
avoid; and it is this very ignorance which makes them wicked and
vicious. Accordingly, a man cannot be said to act involuntarily merely
because he is ignorant of what it is proper for him to do in order to
fulfil his duty. This ignorance in the choice of good and evil does not
make the action involuntary; it only makes it vicious. The same thing
may be affirmed of the man who is ignorant generally of the rules of his
duty; such ignorance is worthy of blame, not of excuse. And
consequently, the ignorance which renders actions involuntary and
excusable is simply that which relates to the fact and its particular
circumstances. In this case the person is excused and forgiven, being
considered as having acted contrary to his inclination.’
“After this, father, will you maintain that Aristotle is of your
opinion? And who can help being astonished to find that a Pagan
philosopher had more enlightened views than your doctors, in a matter so
deeply affecting morals, and the direction of conscience, too, as the
knowledge of those conditions which render actions voluntary or
involuntary, and which, accordingly, charge or discharge them as sinful?
Look for no more support, then, father, from the prince of philosophers,
and no longer oppose yourselves to the prince of theologians,[127] who
has thus decided the point in the first book of his Retractations,
chapter XV.: ‘Those who sin through ignorance, though they sin without
meaning to sin, commit the deed only because they _will_ commit it. And,
therefore, even this sin of ignorance cannot be committed except by the
will of him who commits it, though by a will which incites him to the
action merely, and not to the sin; and yet the action itself is
nevertheless sinful, for it is enough to constitute it such that he has
done what he was bound not to do.’”
The Jesuit seemed to be confounded more with the passage from Aristotle,
I thought, than that from St. Augustine; but while he was thinking on
what he could reply, a messenger came to inform him that Madame la
Mareschale of ——, and Madame the Marchioness of ——, requested his
attendance. So taking a hasty leave of us, he said: “I shall speak about
it to our fathers. They will find an answer to it, I warrant you; we
have got some long heads among us.”
We understood him perfectly well; and on our being left alone, I
expressed to my friend my astonishment at the subversion which this
doctrine threatened to the whole system of morals. To this he replied
that he was quite astonished at my astonishment. “Are you not yet
aware,” he said, “that they have gone to far greater excess in morals
than in any other matter?” He gave me some strange illustrations of
this, promising me more at some future time. The information which I may
receive on this point, will, I hope, furnish the topic of my next
communication.—I am, &c.
-----
Footnote 120:
Etienne Bauni, or Stephen Bauny, was a French Jesuit. His “Summary,”
which Pascal has immortalized by his frequent references to it, was
published in 1633. It is a large volume, stuffed with the most
detestable doctrines. In 1642, the General Assembly of the French
clergy censured his books on moral theology, as containing
propositions “leading to licentiousness, and the corruption of good
manners, violating natural equity, and excusing blasphemy, usury,
simony, and other heinous sins, as trivial matters.” (Nicole, i. 164.)
And yet this abominable work was formally defended in the “Apology for
the Casuists,” written in 1657, by Father Pirot, and acknowledged by
the Jesuits as having been written under their direction! (Nicole,
Hist. des Provinciales, p. 30.)
Footnote 121:
Francis Annat was born in the year 1590. He was made rector of the
College of Toulouse, and appointed by the Jesuits their French
provincial; and, while in that situation, was chosen by Louis XIV. as
his confessor. His friends have highly extolled his virtues as a man;
and the reader may judge of the value of these eulogiums from the
fact, that he retained his post as the favorite confessor of that
licentious monarch, without interruption, till deafness prevented him
from listening any longer to the confessions of his royal penitent.
(Bayle, art. _Annat_.) They have also extolled his answer to the
Provincial Letters, in his “Bonne Foy des Jansenistes,” in which he
professed to expose the falsity of the quotations made from the
Casuists, with what success, appears from the Notes of Nicole, who has
completely vindicated Pascal from the unfounded charges which the
Jesuits have reiterated on this point. (Notes Preliminaires, vol. i.
p. 256, &c.; Entretiens de Cleandre et Eudoxe, p. 79.)
Footnote 122:
When Madame du Valois, a lady of birth and high accomplishments, one
of the nuns of Port-Royal, among other trials by which she was
harassed and tormented for not signing the formulary condemning
Jansenius, was threatened with being deprived of the benefit of the
sacraments at the hour of death, she replied: “If, at the awful hour
of death, I should be deprived of those assistances which the Church
grants to all her children, then God himself will, by his grace,
immediately and abundantly supply their instrumentality. I know,
indeed, that it is most painful to approach the awful hour of death
without an outward participation in the sacraments; but it is better
dying to enter into heaven, though without the sacraments, for the
cause of truth, than, receiving the sacraments, to be cited to
irrevocable judgment for committing perjury.” (Narrative of Dem. of
Port-Royal, p. 176.)
Footnote 123:
Will it be believed that the Jesuits actually had the consummate
hypocrisy to pretend that Pascal meant to throw ridicule on the grace
of God, while he was merely exposing to merited contempt their own
perversions of the doctrine?
Footnote 124:
See before, page 70.
Footnote 125:
The Jesuits were notorious for the assiduity with which they sought
admission into the families, and courted the confidence of the great,
with whom, from the laxness of their discipline and morality, as well
as from their superior manners and accomplishments, they were, as they
still are, the favorite confessors. They have a maxim among their
secret instructions, that in dealing with the consciences of the
great, the confessor must be guided by the looser sort of opinions.
The author of the _Theatre Jesuitique_ illustrates this by an
anecdote. A rich gentleman falling sick, confessed himself to a
Jesuit, and among other sins acknowledged an illicit intercourse with
a lady, whose portrait, thinking himself dying, he gave with many
expressions of remorse, to his confessor. The gentleman, however,
recovered, and with returning health a salutary change was effected on
his character. The Jesuit, finding himself forgotten, paid a visit to
his former penitent, and gave him back the portrait, which renewed all
his former passion, and soon brought him again to the feet of his
confessor!
Footnote 126:
“The doubtsome faith of the pope,” as it was styled by our Reformers,
is here lamentably apparent. The “fear and trembling” of the apostle
were those of anxious care and diligence, not of doubt or
apprehension. The Church of Rome, with all her pretensions to be
regarded as the only safe and infallible guide to salvation, keeps her
children in darkness and doubt on this point to the last moment of
life; they are never permitted to reach the peaceful assurance of
God’s love and the humble hope of eternal life which the Gospel
warrants the believer to cherish; and this, while it serves to keep
the superstitious multitude under the sway of priestly domination,
accounts for the _gloom_ which has characterized, in all ages, the
devotion of the best and most intelligent Romanists.
Footnote 127:
Augustine.
LETTER V.
DESIGN OF THE JESUITS IN ESTABLISHING A NEW SYSTEM OF MORALS—TWO SORTS
OF CASUISTS AMONG THEM, A GREAT MANY LAX, AND SOME SEVERE ONES—REASON
OF THIS DIFFERENCE—EXPLANATION OF THE DOCTRINE OF PROBABILITY—A
MULTITUDE OF MODERN AND UNKNOWN AUTHORS SUBSTITUTED IN THE PLACE OF
THE HOLY FATHERS.
PARIS, _March 20, 1656_.
SIR,—According to my promise, I now send you the first outlines of the
morals taught by those good fathers the Jesuits—“those men distinguished
for learning and sagacity, who are all under the guidance of divine
wisdom—a surer guide than all philosophy.” You imagine, perhaps, that I
am in jest, but I am perfectly serious; or rather, they are so when they
speak thus of themselves in their book entitled “The Image of the First
Century.”[128] I am only copying their own words, and may now give you
the rest of the eulogy: “They are a society of men, or rather let us
call them angels, predicted by Isaiah in these words, ‘Go, ye swift and
ready angels.’”[129] The prediction is as clear as day, is it not? “They
have the spirit of eagles; they are a flock of phœnixes (a late author
having demonstrated that there are a great many of these birds); they
have changed the face of Christendom!” Of course, we must believe all
this, since they have said it; and in one sense you will find the
account amply verified by the sequel of this communication, in which I
propose to treat of their maxims.
Determined to obtain the best possible information, I did not trust to
the representations of our friend the Jansenist, but sought an interview
with some of themselves. I found, however, that he told me nothing but
the bare truth, and I am persuaded he is an honest man. Of this you may
judge from the following account of these conferences.
In the conversation I had with the Jansenist, he told me so many strange
things about these fathers, that I could with difficulty believe them,
till he pointed them out to me in their writings; after which he left me
nothing more to say in their defence, than that these might be the
sentiments of some individuals only, which it was not fair to impute to
the whole fraternity.[130] And, indeed, I assured him that I knew some
of them who were as severe as those whom he quoted to me were lax. This
led him to explain to me the spirit of the Society, which is not known
to every one; and you will perhaps have no objections to learn something
about it.
“You imagine,” he began, “that it would tell considerably in their favor
to show that some of their fathers are as friendly to Evangelical maxims
as others are opposed to them; and you would conclude from that
circumstance, that these loose opinions do not belong to the whole
Society. That I grant you; for had such been the case, they would not
have suffered persons among them holding sentiments so diametrically
opposed to licentiousness. But as it is equally true that there are
among them those who hold these licentious doctrines, you are bound also
to conclude that the Spirit of the Society is not that of Christian
severity; for had such been the case, they would not have suffered
persons among them holding sentiments so diametrically opposed to that
severity.”
“And what, then,” I asked, “can be the design of the whole as a body?
Perhaps they have no fixed principle, and every one is left to speak out
at random whatever he thinks.”
“That cannot be,” returned my friend; “such an immense body could not
subsist in such a hap-hazard sort of way, or without a soul to govern
and regulate its movements; besides, it is one of their express
regulations, that none shall print a page without the approval of their
superiors.”
“But,” said I, “how can these same superiors give their consent to
maxims so contradictory?”