number of good things for all that. It is true the greater part of these
same good things are extracted or copied from our authors, but we do not
stand on ceremony with them on that score, more especially as they are
in the constant habit of quoting our authors with applause. When Diana,
for example, who does not belong to our Society, speaks of Vasquez, he
calls him ‘that phœnix of genius;’ and he declares more than once, ‘that
Vasquez alone is to him worth all the rest of men put together’—_instar
omnium_. Accordingly, our fathers often make use of this good Diana; and
if you understand our doctrine of probability, you will see that this is
no small help in its way. In fact, we are anxious that others besides
the Jesuits would render their opinions probable, to prevent people from
ascribing them all to us; for you will observe, that when any author,
whoever he may be, advances a probable opinion, we are entitled, by the
doctrine of probability, to adopt it if we please; and yet, if the
author do not belong to our fraternity, we are not responsible for its
soundness.”
“I understand all that,” said I. “It is easy to see that all are welcome
that come your way, except the ancient fathers; you are masters of the
field, and have only to walk the course. But I foresee three or four
serious difficulties and powerful barriers which will oppose your
career.”
“And what are these?” cried the monk, looking quite alarmed.
“They are, the Holy Scriptures,” I replied, “the popes, and the
councils, whom you cannot gainsay, and who are all in the way of the
Gospel.”[146]
“Is that all!” he exclaimed; “I declare you put me in a fright. Do you
imagine that we would overlook such an obvious scruple as that, or that
we have not provided against it? A good idea, forsooth, to suppose that
we would contradict Scripture, popes, and councils! I must convince you
of your mistake; for I should be sorry you should go away with an
impression that we are deficient in our respect to these authorities.
You have doubtless taken up this notion from some of the opinions of our
fathers, which are apparently at variance with their decisions, though
in reality they are not. But to illustrate the harmony between them
would require more leisure than we have at present; and as I would not
like you to retain a bad impression of us, if you agree to meet with me
to-morrow, I shall clear it all up then.”
Thus ended our interview, and thus shall end my present communication,
which has been long enough, besides, for one letter. I am sure you will
be satisfied with it, in the prospect of what is forthcoming.—I am, &c.
-----
Footnote 128:
_Imago Primi Seculi._—The work to which Pascal here refers was printed
by the Jesuits in Flanders in the year 1640, under the title of
“L’Image du Premier Siècle de la Société de Jesus,” being a history of
the Society of the Jesuits from the period of its establishment in
1540—a century before the publication. The work itself is very rare,
and would probably have fallen into oblivion, had not the substance of
it been embodied in a little treatise, itself also scarce, entitled
“La Morale Pratique des Jésuites.” The small specimen which Pascal has
given conveys but an imperfect idea of the mingled blasphemy and
absurdity of this Jesuitical production.
Footnote 129:
Isa. xviii. 2.
Footnote 130:
The reader is requested to notice how completely the charge brought
against the Provincial Letters by Voltaire and others is here
anticipated and refuted. (See Hist. Introduction.)
Footnote 131:
“It must be observed that most of those Jesuits who were so severe in
their writings, were less so towards their penitents. It has been said
of Bourdaloue himself that if he required too much in the pulpit, he
abated it in the confessional chair: a new stroke of policy well
understood on the part of the Jesuits, inasmuch as speculative
severity suits persons of rigid morals, and practical condescension
attracts the multitude.” (D’Alembert, Account of Dest. of Jesuits, p.
44.)
Footnote 132:
Petau was one of the obscure writers who were employed by the Jesuits
to publish defamatory libels against M. Arnauld and the bishops who
approved of his book on Frequent Communion. (Coudrette, ii. 426.)
Footnote 133:
The policy to which Pascal refers was introduced by Matthew Ricci, an
Italian Jesuit, who succeeded the famous Francis Xavier in attempting
to convert the Chinese. Ricci declared that, after consulting the
writings of the Chinese literati, he was persuaded that the Xamti and
Cachinchoam of the mandarins were merely other names for the King of
Heaven, and that the idolatries of the natives were harmless civil
ceremonies. He therefore allowed his converts to practise them, on the
condition mentioned in the text. In 1631, some new paladins of the
orders of Dominic and Francis, who came from the Philippine Islands to
share in the spiritual conquest of that vast empire, were grievously
scandalized at the monstrous compromise between Christianity and
idolatry tolerated by the followers of Loyola, and carried their
complaints to Rome. The result is illustrative of the papal policy.
Pope Innocent X. condemned the Jesuitical policy; Pope Alexander VII.,
in 1656 (when this letter was written) sanctioned it; and in 1669,
Pope Clement IX. ordained that the decrees of _both_ of his
predecessors should continue in full force. The Jesuits, availing
themselves of this suspense, paid no regard either to the popes or
their rival orders, the Dominicans and Franciscans, who, in the
persecutions which ensued, always came off with the worst. (Coudrette,
iv. 281; Hist. of D. Ign. Loyola, pp. 97–112.)
The prescription given to the Jesuits by the cardinals, to expose the
image of the crucifix in their churches, appears to us a sort of
homœopathic cure, very little better than the disease. Bossuet, and
others who have tried to soften down the doctrines of Rome, would
represent the worship ostensibly paid to the crucifix as really paid
to Christ, who is represented by it. But even this does not accord
with the determination of the Council of Trent, which declared of
images _Eisque venerationem impertiendam_; or with Bellarmine who
devotes a chapter expressly to prove that true and proper worship is
to be given to images. (Stillingfleet on Popery, by Dr. Cunningham, p.
77.)
Footnote 134:
Lent.
Footnote 135:
“According to the rules of the Roman Catholic fast, one meal alone is
allowed on a fast-day. Many, however, fall off before the end of Lent,
and take to their breakfast and suppers, under the sanction of some
good-natured doctor, who declares fasting injurious to their health.”
(Blanco White, Letters from Spain, p. 272.)
Footnote 136:
Father Antoine Escobar of Mendoza was a Jesuit of Spain, and born at
Valladolid in 1589, where he died in 1669. His principal work is his
“Exposition of Uncontroverted Opinions in Moral Theology,” in six
volumes. It abounds with the most licentious doctrines, and being a
compilation from numerous Jesuitical writers, afforded a rich field
for the satire of Pascal. The characteristic absurdity of this author
is, that his questions uniformly exhibit two faces—an affirmative and
a negative;—so that _escobarderie_ became a synonym in France for
_duplicity_. (Biographie Pittoresque des Jesuites, par M. C. de
Plancy, Paris, 1826, p. 38.) Nicole tells us that he had in his
possession a portrait of the casuist which gave him a “resolute and
decisive cast of countenance”—not exactly what might have been
expected from his double-faced questions. His friends describe Escobar
as a good man, a laborious student, and very devout in his way. It is
said that, when he heard that his name and writings were so frequently
noticed in the Provincial Letters, he was quite overjoyed to think
that his fame would extend as far as the _little letters_ had done.
Boileau has celebrated him in the following couplet:—
Si Bourdaloue un peu sévère,
Nous dit, craignez la volupté:
Escobar, lui dit-on, mon père,
Nous la permet pour la santé.
“If Bourdaloue, a little too severe,
Cries, Fly from pleasure’s fatal fascination
Dear Father, cries another, Escoba,
Permits it as a healthy relaxation.”
Footnote 137:
Four celebrated casuists.
Footnote 138:
_Hippocrass_—a medicated wine.
Footnote 139:
All persons above the age of one-and-twenty are bound to observe the
rules of the Roman Catholic fast during Lent. The obligation of
fasting begins at midnight, just when the leading clock of every town
strikes twelve. (Letters from Spain, p. 270.)
Footnote 140:
_Ad insequendam amicam._ (Tom. ii. tr. 27, part 2, c. 6, n. 143.) The
accuracy with which the references are made to the writings of these
casuists shows anything but a design to garble or misrepresent them.
Footnote 141:
In the technical language of theology, an “occasion of sin” is any
situation or course of conduct which has a tendency to induce the
commission of sin. “Proximate occasions” are those which have a direct
and immediate tendency of this kind.
Footnote 142:
“The casuists are divided into _Probabilistæ_ and _Probabilioristæ_.
The first, among whom were the Jesuits, maintain that a certain degree
of probability as to the lawfulness of an action is enough to secure
against sin. The second, supported by the Dominicans and the
Jansenists (a kind of Catholic Calvinists condemned by the Church),
insist on always taking the _safest_ or most probable side. The French
proverb, _Le mieux est l’ennemi, du bien_, is perfectly applicable to
the practical effects of these two systems in Spain.” (Letters from
Spain, p. 277.) Nicole has a long dissertation on the subject in his
Notes on this Letter.
Footnote 143:
“When one god presses hard, another brings relief.”
Footnote 144:
In the twelfth century, in consequence of the writings of Peter
Lombard, commonly called the “Master of the Sentences,” the Christian
doctors were divided into two classes—the _Positive_ or dogmatic, and
the _Scholastic_ divines. The _Positive_ divines, who were the
teachers of systematic divinity, expounded, though in a wretched
manner, the Sacred Writings, and confirmed their sentiments by
Scripture and tradition. The scholastics, instead of the Bible,
explained the book of Sentences, indulging in the most idle and
ridiculous speculations.—“The practice of choosing a certain priest,
not only to be the occasional confessor, but _the director of the
conscience_, was greatly encouraged by the Jesuits.” (Letters from
Spain, p. 89.)
Footnote 145:
In this extraordinary list of obscure and now forgotten casuistical
writers, most of them belonging to Spain, Portugal, and Flanders, the
art of the author lies in stringing together the most outlandish names
he could collect, ranging them mostly according to their terminations,
and placing them in contrast with the venerable and well-known names
of the ancient fathers. To a French ear these names must have sounded
as uncouth and barbarous as those of the Scotch which Milton has
satirized to the ear of an Englishman:—
“Cries the stall-reader, ‘Bless us! what a word on
A title-page is this!’ Why, is it harder, sirs, than Gordon,
Colkitto, or Macdonnel, or Galasp?
Those rugged names to our like mouths grow sleek,
That would have made Quintilian stare and gasp.”
(Milton’s Minor Poems.)
Footnote 146:
That is, they were all, in Pascal’s opinion, favorable to the Gospel
scheme of morality.
LETTER VI.
VARIOUS ARTIFICES OF THE JESUITS TO ELUDE THE AUTHORITY OF THE GOSPEL,
OF COUNCILS, AND OF THE POPES—SOME CONSEQUENCES WHICH RESULT FROM
THEIR DOCTRINE OF PROBABILITY—THEIR RELAXATION IN FAVOR OF
BENEFICIARIES, PRIESTS, MONKS, AND DOMESTICS—STORY OF JOHN D’ALBA.
PARIS, _April 10, 1656_.
SIR,—I mentioned, at the close of my last letter, that my good friend
the Jesuit had promised to show me how the casuists reconcile the
contrarieties between their opinions and the decisions of the popes, the
councils, and the Scripture. This promise he fulfilled at our last
interview, of which I shall now give you an account.
“One of the methods,” resumed the monk, “in which we reconcile these
apparent contradictions, is by the interpretation of some phrase. Thus,
Pope Gregory XIV. decided that assassins are not worthy to enjoy the
benefit of sanctuary in churches, and ought to be dragged out of them;
and yet our four-and-twenty elders affirm that ‘the penalty of this bull
is not incurred by all those that kill in treachery.’ This may appear to
you a contradiction; but we get over this by interpreting the word
_assassin_ as follows: ‘Are assassins unworthy of sanctuary in churches?
Yes, by the bull of Gregory XIV. they are. But by the word _assassins_
we understand those that have received money to murder one; and
accordingly, such as kill without taking any reward for the deed, but
merely _to oblige their friends_, do not come under the category of
assassins.’”
“Take another instance: It is said in the Gospel, ‘Give alms of your
superfluity.’[147] Several Casuists, however, have contrived to
discharge the wealthiest from the obligation of alms-giving. This may
appear another paradox, but the matter is easily put to rights by giving
such an interpretation to the word _superfluity_ that it will seldom or
never happen that any one is troubled with such an article. This feat
has been accomplished by the learned Vasquez, in his Treatise on Alms,
c. 4: ‘What men of the world lay up to improve their circumstances, or
those of their relatives, cannot be termed superfluity; and accordingly,
such a thing as superfluity is seldom to be found among men of the
world, not even excepting kings.’ Diana, too, who generally founds on
our fathers, having quoted these words of Vasquez, justly concludes,
‘that as to the question whether the rich are bound to give alms of
their superfluity, even though the affirmative were true, it will seldom
or never happen to be obligatory in practice.’”
“I see very well how that follows from the doctrine of Vasquez,” said I.
“But how would you answer this objection, that, in working out one’s
salvation, it would be as safe, according to Vasquez, to give no alms,
provided one can muster as much ambition as to have no superfluity; as
it is safe, according to the Gospel, to have no ambition at all, in
order to have some superfluity for the purpose of alms-giving?”[148]
“Why,” returned he, “the answer would be, that both of these ways are
safe according to the Gospel; the one according to the Gospel in its
more literal and obvious sense, and the other according to the same
Gospel as interpreted by Vasquez. There you see the utility of
interpretations. When the terms are so clear, however,” he continued,
“as not to admit of an interpretation, we have recourse to the
observation of favorable circumstances. A single example will illustrate
this. The popes have denounced excommunication on monks who lay aside
their canonicals; our casuists, notwithstanding, put it as a question,
‘On what occasions may a monk lay aside his religious habit without
incurring excommunication?’ They mention a number of cases in which they
may, and among others the following: ‘If he has laid it aside for an
infamous purpose, such as to pick pockets or to go _incognito_ into
haunts of profligacy, meaning shortly after to resume it.’ It is evident
the bulls have no reference to cases of that description.”
I could hardly believe that, and begged the father to show me the
passage in the original. He did so, and under the chapter headed
“Practice according to the School of the Society of Jesus”—_Praxis ex
Societatis Jesu Schola_—I read these very words: _Si habitum dimittat ut
furetur occulte, vel fornicetur_. He showed me the same thing in Diana,
in these terms: _Ut eat incognitus ad lupanar_. “And why, father,” I
asked, “are they discharged from excommunication on such occasions?”
“Don’t you understand it?” he replied. “Only think what a scandal it
would be, were a monk surprised in such a predicament with his
canonicals on! And have you never heard,” he continued, “how they answer
the first bull _contra sollicitantes_? and how our four-and-twenty, in
another chapter of the Practice according to the School of our Society,
explain the bull of Pius V. _contra clericos_, &c.?”[149]
“I know nothing about all that,” said I.
“Then it is a sign you have not read much of Escobar,” returned the
monk.
“I got him only yesterday, father,” said I; “and I had no small
difficulty, too, in procuring a copy. I don’t know how it is, but
everybody of late has been in search of him.”[150]
“The passage to which I referred,” returned the monk, “may be found in
treatise 1, example 8, no. 102. Consult it at your leisure when you go
home.”
I did so that very night; but it is so shockingly bad, that I dare not
transcribe it.
The good father then went on to say: “You now understand what use we
make of favorable circumstances. Sometimes, however, obstinate cases
will occur, which will not admit of this mode of adjustment; so much so,
indeed, that you would almost suppose they involved flat contradictions.
For example, three popes have decided that monks who are bound by a
particular vow to a Lenten life,[151] cannot be absolved from it even
though they should become bishops. And yet Diana avers that
notwithstanding this decision they _are_ absolved.”
“And how does he reconcile that?” said I.
“By the most subtle of all the modern methods, and by the nicest
possible application of probability,” replied the monk. “You may
recollect you were told the other day, that the affirmative and negative
of most opinions have each, according to our doctors, some
probability—enough, at least, to be followed with a safe conscience. Not
that the _pro_ and _con_ are both true in the same sense—that is
impossible—but only they are both probable, and therefore safe, as a
matter of course. On this principle our worthy friend Diana remarks: ‘To
the decision of these three popes, which is contrary to my opinion, I
answer, that they spoke in this way by adhering to the affirmative
side—which, in fact, even in my judgment, is probable; but it does not
follow from this that the negative may not have its probability too.’
And in the same treatise, speaking of another subject on which he again
differs from a pope, he says: ‘The pope, I grant, has said it as the
head of the Church; but his decision does not extend beyond the sphere
of the probability of his own opinion.’ Now you perceive this is not
doing any harm to the opinions of the popes; such a thing would never be
tolerated at Rome, where Diana is in high repute. For he does not say
that what the popes have decided is not probable; but leaving their
opinion within the sphere of probability, he merely says that the
contrary is also probable.”
“That is very respectful,” said I.
“Yes,” added the monk, “and rather more ingenious than the reply made by
Father Bauny, when his books were censured at Rome; for when pushed very
hard on this point by M. Hallier, he made bold to write: ‘What has the
censure of Rome to do with that of France?’ You now see how, either by
the interpretation of terms, by the observation of favorable
circumstances, or by the aid of the double probability of _pro_ and
_con_, we always contrive to reconcile those seeming contradictions
which occasioned you so much surprise, without ever touching on the
decisions of Scripture, councils, or popes.”
“Reverend father,” said I, “how happy the world is in having such men as
you for its masters! And what blessings are these probabilities! I never
knew the reason why you took such pains to establish that a single
doctor, _if a grave one_, might render an opinion probable, and that the
contrary might be so too, and that one may choose any side one pleases,
even though he does not believe it to be the right side, and all with
such a safe conscience, that the confessor who should refuse him
absolution on the faith of the casuists would be in a state of
damnation. But I see now that a single casuist may make new rules of
morality at his discretion, and dispose, according to his fancy, of
everything pertaining to the regulation of manners.”
“What you have now said,” rejoined the father, “would require to be
modified a little. Pay attention now, while I explain our method, and
you will observe the progress of a new opinion, from its birth to its
maturity. First, the grave doctor who invented it exhibits it to the
world, casting it abroad like seed, that it may take root. In this state
it is very feeble; it requires time gradually to ripen. This accounts
for Diana, who has introduced a great many of these opinions, saying: ‘I
advance this opinion; but as it is new, I give it time to come to
maturity—_relinquo tempori maturandum_.’ Thus in a few years it becomes
insensibly consolidated; and after a considerable time it is sanctioned
by the tacit approbation of the Church, according to the grand maxim of
Father Bauny, ‘that if an opinion has been advanced by some casuist, and
has not been impugned by the Church, it is a sign that she approves of
it.’ And, in fact, on this principle he authenticates one of his own
principles in his sixth treatise, p. 312.”
“Indeed, father!” cried I, “why, on this principle the Church would
approve of all the abuses which she tolerates, and all the errors in all
the books which she does not censure!”
“Dispute the point with Father Bauny,” he replied. “I am merely quoting
his words, and you begin to quarrel with _me_. There is no disputing
with facts, sir. Well, as I was saying, when time has thus matured an
opinion, it thenceforth becomes completely probable and safe. Hence the
learned Caramuel, in dedicating his Fundamental Theology to Diana,
declares that this great Diana has rendered many opinions probable which
were not so before—_quæ antea non erant_; and that, therefore, in
following them, persons do not sin now, though they would have sinned
formerly—_jam non peccant, licet ante peccaverint_.”
“Truly, father,” I observed, “it must be worth one’s while living in the
neighborhood of your doctors. Why, of two individuals who do the same
actions, he that knows nothing about their doctrine sins, while he that
knows it does no sin. It seems, then, that their doctrine possesses at
once an edifying and a justifying virtue! The law of God, according to
St. Paul, made transgressors;[152] but this law of yours makes nearly
all of us innocent. I beseech you, my dear sir, let me know all about
it. I will not leave you till you have told me all the maxims which your
casuists have established.”
“Alas!” the monk exclaimed, “our main object, no doubt, should have been
to establish no other maxims than those of the Gospel in all their
strictness: and it is easy to see, from the Rules for the regulation of
our manners,[153] that if we tolerate some degree of relaxation in
others, it is rather out of complaisance than through design. The truth
is, sir, we are forced to it. Men have arrived at such a pitch of
corruption now-a-days, that unable to make them come to us, we must e’en
go to them, otherwise they would cast us off altogether; and what is
worse, they would become perfect castaways. It is to retain such
characters as these that our casuists have taken under consideration the
vices to which people of various conditions are most addicted, with the
view of laying down maxims which, while they cannot be said to violate
the truth, are so gentle that he must be a very impracticable subject
indeed who is not pleased with them. The grand project of our Society,
for the good of religion, is never to repulse any one, let him be what
he may, and so avoid driving people to despair.[154]
“They have got maxims, therefore, for all sorts of persons; for
beneficiaries, for priests, for monks; for gentlemen, for servants; for
rich men, for commercial men; for people in embarrassed or indigent
circumstances; for devout women, and women that are not devout; for
married people, and irregular people. In short, nothing has escaped
their foresight.”
“In other words,” said I, “they have got maxims for the clergy, the
nobility, and the commons.[155] Well, I am quite impatient to hear
them.”