the _ancient Church_? But all that is now _so little in season_, to use
a common saying of our doctors, that, according to Father Bauny, the
reverse is the only true view of the matter. ‘There are some,’ says he,
‘who maintain that absolution ought to be refused to those who fall
frequently into the same sins, more especially if, after being often
absolved, they evince no signs of amendment; and others hold the
opposite view. But the only true opinion is, that they ought not to be
refused absolution; and though they should be nothing the better of all
the advice given them, though they should have broken all their promises
to lead new lives, and been at no trouble to purify themselves, still it
is of no consequence; whatever may be said to the contrary, the true
opinion which ought to be followed is, that even in all these cases,
they ought to be absolved.’ And again: ‘Absolution ought neither to be
denied nor delayed in the case of those who live in habitual sins
against the law of God, of nature, and of the Church, although there
should be no apparent prospect of future amendment—_etsi emendationis
futuræ nulla spes appareat_.’”
“But, father, this certainty of always getting absolution may induce
sinners—”
“I know what you mean,” interrupted the Jesuit: “but listen to Father
Bauny, q. 15: ‘Absolution may be given even to him who candidly avows
that the hope of being absolved induced him to sin with more freedom
than he would otherwise have done.’ And Father Caussin, defending this
proposition, says, ‘that were this not true, confession would be
interdicted to the greater part of mankind; and the only resource left
for poor sinners would be a branch and a rope!’”[213]
“O father, how these maxims of yours will draw people to your
confessionals!”
“Yes,” he replied, “you would hardly believe what numbers are in the
habit of frequenting them; ‘we are absolutely oppressed and overwhelmed,
so to speak, under the crowd of our penitents—_penitentium numero
obruimur_’—as is said in ‘The Image of the First Century.’”
“I could suggest a very simple method,” said I, “to escape from this
inconvenient pressure. You have only to oblige sinners to avoid the
proximate occasions of sin; that single expedient would afford you
relief at once.”
“We have no wish for such a relief,” rejoined the monk; “quite the
reverse; for, as is observed in the same book, ‘the great end of our
Society is to labor to establish the virtues, to wage war on the vices,
and to save a great number of souls.’ Now, as there are very few souls
inclined to quit the proximate occasions of sin, we have been obliged to
define what a proximate occasion is. ‘That cannot be called a proximate
occasion,’ says Escobar, ‘where one sins but rarely, or on a sudden
transport—say three or four times a year;’[214] or, as Father Bauny has
it, ‘once or twice in a month.’[215] Again, asks this author, ‘what is
to be done in the case of masters and servants, or cousins, who, living
under the same roof, are by this occasion tempted to sin?’”
“They ought to be separated,” said I.
“That is what he says, too, ‘if their relapses be very frequent: but if
the parties offend rarely, and cannot be separated without trouble and
loss, they may, according to Suarez and other authors, be absolved,
provided they promise to sin no more, and are truly sorry for what is
past.’”
This required no explanation, for he had already informed me with what
sort of evidence of contrition the confessor was bound to rest
satisfied.
“And Father Bauny,” continued the monk, “permits those who are involved
in the proximate occasions of sin, ‘to remain as they are, when they
cannot avoid them without becoming the common talk of the world, or
subjecting themselves to inconvenience.’ ‘A priest,’ he remarks in
another work, ‘may and ought to absolve a woman who is guilty of living
with a paramour, if she cannot put him away honorably, or has some
reason for keeping him—_si non potest honeste ejicere, aut habeat
aliquam causam retinendi_—provided she promises to act more virtuously
for the future.’”[216]
“Well, father,” cried I, “you have certainly succeeded in relaxing the
obligation of avoiding the occasions of sin to a very comfortable
extent, by dispensing with the duty as soon as it becomes inconvenient;
but I should think your fathers will at least allow it to be binding
when there is no difficulty in the way of its performance?”
“Yes,” said the father, “though even then the rule is not without
exceptions. For Father Bauny says, in the same place, ‘that any one may
frequent profligate houses, with the view of converting their
unfortunate inmates, though the probability should be that he fall into
sin, having often experienced before that he has yielded to their
fascinations. Some doctors do not approve of this opinion, and hold that
no man may voluntarily put his salvation in peril to succor his
neighbor; yet I decidedly embrace the opinion which they controvert.’”
“A novel sort of preachers these, father! But where does Father Bauny
find any ground for investing them with such a mission?”
“It is upon one of his own principles,” he replied, “which he announces
in the same place after Basil Ponce. I mentioned it to you before, and I
presume you have not forgotten it. It is, ‘that one may seek an occasion
of sin, directly and expressly—_primo et per se_—to promote the temporal
or spiritual good of himself or his neighbor.’”
On hearing these passages, I felt so horrified that I was on the point
of breaking out; but, being resolved to hear him to an end, I restrained
myself, and merely inquired: “How, father, does this doctrine comport
with that of the Gospel, which binds us to ‘pluck out the right eye,’
and ‘cut off the right hand,’ when they ‘offend,’ or prove prejudicial
to salvation? And how can you suppose that the man who wilfully indulges
in the occasions of sins, sincerely hates sin? Is it not evident, on the
contrary, that he has never been properly touched with a sense of it,
and that he has not yet experienced that genuine conversion of heart,
which makes a man love God as much as he formerly loved the creature?”
“Indeed!” cried he, “do you call that genuine contrition? It seems you
do not know that, as Father Pintereau[217] says, ‘all our fathers teach,
with one accord, that it is an error, and almost a heresy, to hold that
_contrition_ is necessary; or that _attrition_ alone, induced by the
_sole_ motive, the fear of the pains of hell, which excludes a
disposition to offend, is not sufficient with the sacrament?’”[218]
“What, father! do you mean to say that it is almost an article of faith,
that attrition, induced merely by fear of punishment, is sufficient with
the sacrament? That idea, I think, is peculiar to your fathers; for
those other doctors who hold that attrition is sufficient along with the
sacrament, always take care to show that it must be accompanied with
some love to God at least. It appears to me, moreover, that even your
own authors did not always consider this doctrine of yours so certain.
Your Father Suarez, for instance, speaks of it thus: ‘Although it is a
probable opinion that attrition is sufficient with the sacrament, yet it
is not certain, and it may be false—_non est certa, et potest esse
falsa_. And if it is false, attrition is not sufficient to save a man;
and he that dies knowingly in this state, wilfully exposes himself to
the grave peril of eternal damnation. For this opinion is neither very
ancient nor very common—_nec valde antiqua, nec multum communis_.’
Sanchez was not more prepared to hold it as infallible, when he said in
his Summary, that ‘the sick man and his confessor, who content
themselves at the hour of death with attrition and the sacrament, are
both chargeable with mortal sin, on account of the great risk of
damnation to which the penitent would be exposed, if the opinion that
attrition is sufficient with the sacrament should not turn out to be
true.’ Comitolus, too, says that ‘we should not be too sure that
attrition suffices with the sacrament.’”[219]
Here the worthy father interrupted me. “What!” he cried, “you read our
authors then, it seems? That is all very well; but it would be still
better were you never to read them without the precaution of having one
of _us_ beside you. Do you not see, now, that, from having read them
alone, you have concluded, in your simplicity, that these passages bear
hard on those who have more lately supported our doctrine of attrition?
whereas it might be shown that nothing could set them off to greater
advantage. Only think what a triumph it is for our fathers of the
present day to have succeeded in disseminating their opinion in such
short time, and to such an extent that, with the exception of
theologians, nobody almost would ever suppose but that our modern views
on this subject had been the uniform belief of the faithful in all ages!
So that, in fact, when you have shown, from our fathers themselves,
that, a few years ago, ‘this opinion was not certain,’ you have only
succeeded in giving our modern authors the whole merit of its
establishment!
“Accordingly,” he continued, “our cordial friend Diana, to gratify us,
no doubt, has recounted the various steps by which the opinion reached
its present position.[220] ‘In former days, the ancient schoolmen
maintained that contrition was necessary as soon as one had committed a
mortal sin; since then, however, it has been thought that it is not
binding except on festival days; afterwards, only when some great
calamity threatened the people: others, again, that it ought not to be
long delayed at the approach of death. But our fathers, Hurtado and
Vasquez, have ably refuted all these opinions, and established that one
is not bound to contrition unless he cannot be absolved in any other
way, or at the point of death!’ But, to continue the wonderful progress
of this doctrine, I might add, what our fathers, Fagundez, Granados, and
Escobar, have decided, ‘that contrition is not necessary even at death;
because,’ say they, ‘if attrition with the sacrament did not suffice at
death, it would follow that attrition would not be sufficient with the
sacrament.’ And the learned Hurtado, cited by Diana and Escobar, goes
still further; for he asks, ‘Is that sorrow for sin which flows solely
from apprehension of its temporal consequences, such as having lost
health or money, sufficient? We must distinguish. If the evil is not
regarded as sent by the hand of God, such a sorrow does not suffice; but
if the evil is viewed as sent by God, as, in fact, all evil, says Diana,
except sin, comes from him, that kind of sorrow is sufficient.’[221] Our
Father Lamy holds the same doctrine.”[222]
“You surprise me, father; for I see nothing in all that attrition of
which you speak but what is natural; and in this way a sinner may render
himself worthy of absolution without supernatural grace at all. Now
everybody knows that this is a heresy condemned by the Council.”[223]
“I should have thought with you,” he replied; “and yet it seems this
must not be the case, for the fathers of our College of Clermont have
maintained (in their Theses of the 23rd May and 6th June 1644) ‘that
attrition may be holy and sufficient for the sacrament, although it may
not be supernatural:’ and (in that of August 1643) ‘that attrition,
though merely natural, is sufficient for the sacrament, provided it is
honest.’ I do not see what more could be said on the subject, unless we
choose to subjoin an inference, which may be easily drawn from these
principles, namely, that contrition, so far from being necessary to the
sacrament, is rather prejudicial to it, inasmuch as, by washing away
sins of itself, it would leave nothing for the sacrament to do at all.
That is, indeed, exactly what the celebrated Jesuit Father Valencia
remarks. (Tom. iv., disp. 7, q. 8, p. 4.) ‘Contrition,’ says he, ‘is by
no means necessary in order to obtain the principal benefit of the
sacrament; on the contrary, it is rather an obstacle in the way of
it—_imo obstat potius quominus effectus sequatur_.’ Nobody could well
desire more to be said in commendation of attrition.”[224]
“I believe that, father,” said I; “but you must allow me to tell you my
opinion, and to show you to what a dreadful length this doctrine leads.
When you say that ‘attrition, induced by the mere dread of punishment,’
is sufficient, with the sacrament, to justify sinners, does it not
follow that a person may always expiate his sins in this way, and thus
be saved without ever having loved God all his lifetime? Would your
fathers venture to hold that?”
“I perceive,” replied the monk, “from the strain of your remarks, that
you need some information on the doctrine of our fathers regarding the
love of God. This is the last feature of their morality, and the most
important of all. You must have learned something of it from the
passages about contrition which I have quoted to you. But here are
others still more definite on the point of love to God—Don’t interrupt
me, now; for it is of importance to notice the connection. Attend to
Escobar, who reports the different opinions of our authors, in his
‘Practice of the Love of God according to our Society.’ The question is:
‘When is one obliged to have an actual affection for God?’ Suarez says,
it is enough if one loves him before being _articulo mortis_—at the
point of death—without determining the exact time. Vasquez, that it is
sufficient even at the very point of death. Others, when one has
received baptism. Others, again, when one is bound to exercise
contrition. And others, on festival days. But our father, Castro Palao,
combats all these opinions, and with good reason—_merito_. Hurtado de
Mendoza insists that we are obliged to love God once a-year; and that we
ought to regard it as a great favor that we are not bound to do it
oftener. But our Father Coninck thinks that we are bound to it only once
in three or four years; Henriquez, once in five years; and Filiutius
says that it is _probable_ that we are not strictly bound to it even
once in five years. How often, then, do you ask? Why, he refers it to
the judgment of the judicious.”
I took no notice of all this badinage, in which the ingenuity of man
seems to be sporting, in the height of insolence, with the love of God.
“But,” pursued the monk, “our Father Antony Sirmond surpasses all on
this point, in his admirable book, ‘The Defence of Virtue,’[225] where,
as he tells the reader, ‘he speaks French in France,’ as follows: ‘St.
Thomas says that we are obliged to love God as soon as we come to the
use of reason: that is rather too soon! Scotus says, every Sunday: pray,
for what reason? Others say, when we are sorely tempted: yes, if there
be no other way of escaping the temptation. Scotus says, when we have
received a benefit from God: good, in the way of thanking him for it.
Others say, at death: rather late! As little do I think it binding at
the reception of any sacrament: attrition in such cases is quite enough,
along with confession, if convenient. Suarez says that it is binding at
some time or another; but at what time?—he leaves you to judge of that
for yourself—he does not know; and what that doctor did not know I know
not who should know.’ In short, he concludes that we are not strictly
bound to more than to keep the other commandments, without any affection
for God, and without giving him our hearts, provided that we do not hate
him. To prove this is the sole object of his second treatise. You will
find it in every page; more especially where he says: ‘God, in
commanding us to love him, is satisfied with our obeying him in his
other commandments. If God had said, Whatever obedience thou yieldest
me, if thy heart is not given to me, I will destroy thee!—would such a
motive, think you, be well fitted to promote the end which God must, and
only can, have in view? Hence it is said that we shall love God by doing
his will, _as if_ we loved him with affection, as if the motive in this
case was real charity. If that is really our motive, so much the better;
if not, still we are strictly fulfilling the commandment of love, by
having its works, so that (such is the goodness of God!) we are
commanded, not so much to love him, as not to hate him.’
“Such is the way in which our doctors have discharged men from the
‘painful’ obligation of actually loving God. And this doctrine is so
advantageous, that our Fathers Annat, Pintereau, Le Moine, and Antony
Sirmond himself, have strenuously defended it when it has been attacked.
You have only to consult their answers to the ‘Moral Theology.’ That of
Father Pintereau, in particular, will enable you to form some idea of
the value of this dispensation, from the price which he tells us that it
cost, which is no less than the blood of Jesus Christ. This crowns the
whole. It appears, that this dispensation from the ‘painful’ obligation
to love God, is the privilege of the Evangelical law, in opposition to
the Judaical. ‘It was reasonable,’ he says, ‘that, under the law of
grace in the New Testament, God should relieve us from that troublesome
and arduous obligation which existed under the law of bondage, to
exercise an act of perfect contrition, in order to be justified; and
that the place of this should be supplied by the sacraments, instituted
in aid of an easier disposition. Otherwise, indeed, Christians, who are
the children, would have no greater facility in gaining the good graces
of their Father than the Jews, who were the slaves, had in obtaining the
mercy of their Lord and Master.’”[226]
“O father!” cried I; “no patience can stand this any longer. It is
impossible to listen without horror to the sentiments you have now been
sporting.”
“They are not my sentiments,” said the monk.
“I grant it, sir,” said I; “but you feel no aversion to them; and, so
far from detesting the authors of these maxims, you hold them in esteem.
Are you not afraid that your consent may involve you in a participation
of their guilt? and are you not aware that St. Paul judges worthy of
death, not only the authors of evil things, but also ‘those who have
pleasure in them that do them?’ Was it not enough to have permitted men
to indulge in so many forbidden things, under the covert of your
palliations? Was it necessary to go still further, and hold out a bribe
to them to commit even those crimes which you found it impossible to
excuse, by offering them an easy and certain absolution; and for this
purpose nullifying the power of the priests, and obliging them, more as
slaves than as judges, to absolve the most inveterate sinners—without
any amendment of life—without any sign of contrition except promises a
hundred times broken—without penance ‘unless they choose to accept of
it’—and without abandoning the occasions of their vices, ‘if they should
thereby be put to any inconvenience?’
“But your doctors have gone even beyond this; and the license which they
have assumed to tamper with the most holy rules of Christian conduct
amount to a total subversion of the law of God. They violate ‘the great
commandment on which hang all the law and the prophets;’ they strike at
the very heart of piety; they rob it of the spirit that giveth life;
they hold that to love God is not necessary to salvation; and go so far
as to maintain that ‘this dispensation from loving God is the privilege
which Jesus Christ has introduced into the world!’ This, sir, is the
very climax of impiety. The price of the blood of Jesus Christ paid to
obtain us a dispensation from loving him! Before the incarnation, it
seems men were obliged to love God: but since ‘God has so loved the
world as to give his only-begotten Son,’ the world, redeemed by him, is
released from loving him! Strange divinity of our days—to dare to take
off the ‘anathema’ which St. Paul denounces on those ‘that love not the
Lord Jesus!’ To cancel the sentence of St. John: ‘He that loveth not,
abideth in death!’ and that of Jesus Christ himself: ‘He that loveth me
not keepeth not my precepts!’ and thus to render those worthy of
enjoying God through eternity who never loved God all their life![227]
Behold the Mystery of Iniquity fulfilled! Open your eyes at length, my
dear father, and if the other aberrations of your casuists have made no
impression on you, let these last, by their very extravagance, compel
you to abandon them. This is what I desire from the bottom of my heart,
for your own sake and for the sake of your doctors; and my prayer to God
is, that he would vouchsafe to convince them how false the light must be
that has guided them to such precipices; and that he would fill their
hearts with that love of himself from which they have dared to give man
a dispensation!”
After some remarks of this nature, I took my leave of the monk, and I
see no great likelihood of my repeating my visits to him. This, however,
need not occasion you any regret; for, should it be necessary to
continue these communications on their maxims, I have studied their
books sufficiently to tell you as much of their morality, and more,
perhaps, of their policy, than he could have done himself.—I am, &c.
-----
Footnote 204:
See before, p. 116.
Footnote 205:
_Imago Primi Seculi_, l. iii., c. 8.
Footnote 206:
Esc. tr. 7, a. 4, n. 135; also, Princ., ex. 2, n. 73.
Footnote 207:
The practice of auricular confession was about three hundred years old
before the Reformation, having remained undetermined till the year
1150 after Christ. The early fathers were, beyond all question,
decidedly opposed to it. Chrysostom reasons very differently from the
text. “But thou art ashamed to say that thou hast sinned? Confess thy
faults, then, daily in thy prayer; for do I say, ‘Confess them to thy
fellow-servant who may reproach thee therewith?’ No; confess them to
God who healeth them.” (In Ps. l. hom. 2.) And to whom did Augustine
make his _Confessions_? Was it not to the same Being to whom David in
the Psalms and the publican in the Gospel, made theirs? “What have I
to do with men,” says this father, “that they should hear my
confessions, as if they were to heal all my diseases!” (Confes., lib.
x., p. 3.)
Footnote 208:
Princ., ex. 2. n. 39, 41, 61, 62.
Footnote 209:
John xx. 23: “Receive ye the Holy Ghost: Whose soever sins ye remit,
they are remitted unto them; and whose soever sins ye retain, they are
retained.” All the ancient fathers, such as Basil, Ambrose, Augustine,
and Chrysostom, explain this remission of sins as the work of the Holy
Ghost, and not of the apostles except ministerially, in the use of the
spiritual keys of doctrine and discipline, of intercessary prayer and
of the sacraments. (Ussher’s Jesuits’ Challenge, p. 122 &c.) Even the
schoolmen held that the power of binding and loosing committed to the
ministers of the Church is not absolute, but must be limited by _clave
non errante_, or when no error is committed in the use of the keys.
Footnote 210:
In 3 part, t. 4, disp. 32, sect. 2, n. 2.
Footnote 211:
Summary of Sins, c. 46, p. 1090, 1, 2.
Footnote 212:
Denis Petau (Dionysius Petavius) a learned Jesuit, was born at Orleans
in 1593, and died in 1652. The catalogue of his works alone would fill
a volume. He wrote in elegant Latin, on all subjects, grammar,
history, chronology, &c., as well as theology. Perrault informs us
that he had an incredible ardor for the conversion of heretics, and
had almost succeeded in converting the celebrated Grotius—a very
unlikely story. (Les Hommes Illustres, p. 19.) His book on Public
Penance (Paris, 1644) was intended as a refutation of Arnauld’s
“Frequent Communion;” but is said to have been ill-written and
unsuccessful. Though he professed the theology of his order, he is
said to have had a kind of predilection for austere opinions, being
naturally of a melancholy temper. When invited by the pope to visit
Rome, he replied, “I am too old to _flit_”—_demenager_. (Dict. Univ.,
art. _Petau_.)
Footnote 213:
Reply to the Moral Theol., p. 211.
Footnote 214:
Esc., Practice of the Society, tr. 7, ex. 4, n. 226.
Footnote 215:
P. 1082, 1089
Footnote 216:
Theol. Mor., tr. 4, De Pœnit., q. 13 pp. 93, 94.
Footnote 217:
The work ascribed to Pintereau was entitled, “Les Impostures et les
Ignorances du Libelle intituló la Theologie Morale des Jesuites: par
l’Abbè du Boisic.”
Footnote 218: