Chapter II. The Authority Of Faith And The Free Exercise Of Research.

Preliminary Remarks.

We must not stop at what we have just said in general about the relation

between the freedom of research and the obligation to believe. We must go

further into detail, in order to give a more exact explanation of how and

where the authority of faith clashes with research and restrains it. Is it

true that the believing scientist cannot move freely in his research, that

there are barriers on all sides which he may not overstep? Is it true that

the Church may prescribe for the Catholic scientist what he is allowed to

defend and approve, what he ought to refute and reprove, suppress or

advocate, so that his eyes must ever be turned towards Rome, to inquire

and ascertain what might there be approved? And what a chain of

proscriptions of free thinking is attached to the name of Rome! Index,

Syllabus, _Galileo_—link after link is added to this chain of miserable

slavery!

We shall say something more about this chain later on. First we must

consider the principal question: Where and how do faith and science come

in contact? And what we are going to say we shall condense into four

points. Thus freedom of science will be more precisely defined; it will be

shown what freedom revelation, and especially the guardian of revelation,

the Church, offers to science: there can be no doubt that its natural

freedom of exercise must be left to science intact.

We shall deal in the first place with the _profane sciences_, and, at

least for the present, leave aside the discussion of theology, since it is

clear that theology, being the science of faith, must assume a peculiar

position in regard to the authority of faith: theology, moreover, is a

special mark for attack; accordingly we shall deal with it particularly

later on. However, the principles to be cited, being of a general nature,

refer also to the science of faith, and for this reason we shall have

occasion to refer to them.

1. Authority of Faith and Private Authority.

We often meet with the most inconceivable notions. We are told quite

seriously that the Church teaches, and that the Catholic has therefore to

believe, that the earth is a flat disc surrounded by the sea, as the

ancients believed; above it is a vault, below it hell-fire; that the earth

stands still and the sun and stars revolve about it, just as _Ptolemy_ of

Egypt taught; that God created the whole world just as it is now in

exactly six days of twenty-four hours each; that He made the sun and moon,

just as they are now illuminating the skies; that the strata, just as they

now look when bared by the geologist’s hammer, even the coal-fields and

petrified saurians and fossils—all were made, just as they now are, well

nigh six thousand years ago. The Scriptures teach this, the Fathers of old

and the theologians believe this: and that is where the Catholic must get

his science. And then they are astonished, and consider dogma retreating

before science, when they see other notions prevailing, when they see

Catholic scientists defend without prejudice the evolution of the solar

system, and even the system of the whole universe, from some primitive

matter, or assume an organic evolution, as far as science supports it (cf.

_Braun_, Ueber Kosmologie u. Standpunkt christlich. Wiss., 2d ed., 1906,

etc.). They would be still more astonished perhaps to learn that similar

ideas had long ago been proposed by _St. Augustine_ and _St. Thomas_ (cf.

Summa c. G. l. 3, c. 77; _Knabenbauer_, in Stimmen a. M. Laach xiii, 75

_seq._).

A distinction must be made between the teaching of the Church and the

private views of individuals, schools, or periods. Only the teaching of

the Church is the obligatory standard of Christian and Catholic thought,

not the opinion of individuals. Hence not everything that Catholic savants

have held to be true belongs to the teaching of the Church. Only when

theologians unanimously declare something to be contained in the deposit

of revealed truth, or the teaching of the Church,—only then is their

teaching authoritative; not because it is the teaching of theologians, but

because it is contained in revelation or the teaching of the Church. Else

the maxim holds good: _Tantum valet auctoritas, quantum argumenta_. Nor is

all that which a former age found in Holy Scripture, therefore to be

believed as revealed truth, to the exclusion of all other interpretations.

The foregoing may be elucidated by the examples given above. When Holy

Writ describes in figurative language and Oriental, demonstrative style,

how God created the heaven and earth, the sun and moon, the sea and its

contents, it means to teach us religious truths: that God is the First

Cause of everything, and hence that the sun and moon, for instance, are

not uncreated deities, as the Egyptian believed them to be. The narrative

need not be taken in a literal sense, as if God immediately formed

everything in the exact condition as it now appears to us; it may be

interpreted in the sense that God let the present condition of things

gradually grow out of the forces and materials and plan of nature He

created, the result of a lengthy evolution. When our Lord tells us in the

gospel that His Father in heaven feeds the birds of the air and clothes

the grass of the field, we know that this is to be understood as a mediate

action of God, which He exercises through the instinct of animals and

through natural forces which He created for the purpose. Now when former

ages, reading the narrative of Genesis, generally understood an immediate

creation of the world, because the knowledge of nature at the time did not

admit of any other interpretation, it is by no means necessary to conclude

from it that every other interpretation must be rejected as against the

Bible, or that the Church herself has prescribed this literal

interpretation as the only correct one. As is known, _St. Augustine_, the

greatest Father of the Church, had another very liberal explanation of the

Genesis narrative, and the Church has never censured him. (He taught that

the whole world had been created at one time, and that the six days of the

Mosaic narrative were the logical divisions of an account of the various

orders of creatures.) And now the interpretations vary greatly. The

passages in Scripture, in which, according to popular modes of expression,

the sun is said to rise and set and revolve about the earth, the latter

standing in the centre of the world—these, too, were interpreted literally

in the days of the Fathers: there was no cause for interpreting them

otherwise; but it was only due to defective knowledge of nature at the

time. These temporary errors remained till corrected by research in the

field of the natural sciences: had the discoveries been made sooner, the

errors, too, would have disappeared sooner.

The Church knows, and the holy Fathers knew, that it is not the purpose of

Holy Writ to teach profane sciences, but to instruct in faith and morals;

if it speaks of other matters, it is but occasionally, and then in the

idiom of common life, which is not the same as the scientific language of

the specialist. Indeed, the Bible does not intend to give scientific

instruction in such matters, nor could it have done so at a time when men

were not ripe for such enlightenment.

Thus _St. Augustine_ insists that the Spirit of God who spoke

through the authors of Scripture did not intend to instruct men in

matters which do not serve for salvation, and hence he objects to

the Scriptures being taken literally in regard to such matters,

because the Bible adapts itself to man’s manner of speech: a

distinction is to be made between letter and sense (“Multi multum

disputant de iis rebus, quae majore prudentia nostri auctores

omiserunt, ad beatam vitam non profuturas discentibus ... Breviter

dicendum est, ... Spiritum Dei, qui per ipsos loquebatur, noluisse

ita docere homines nulli saluti profuturas,” De Gen. ad lit., II,

9, n. 20. Cf. De Gen. contra Manich. 1, 5, n. 3; 11, n. 17). He

further cautions Bible students against putting their own

interpretation upon obscure passages and then claiming it to be

dogma, because one may easily go astray and thus make the

Scriptures appear ridiculous. “In rebus obscuris atque a nostris

oculis remotissimis, si qua inde scripta etiam divina legerimus,

quae possint salva fide, qua imbuimur, alias atque alias parere

sententias, in nullam earum nos praecipiti affirmatione

proiciamus, ut si forte, diligentius discussa veritas eam recte

labefactaverit, corruamus, non pro sententia divinarum

scripturarum sed pro nosctra ita dimicantes, ut eam velimus

scripturarum esse, quae nostra est” (De genesi ad lit. I, 18 n.

37). “Plerumque accidit, ut aliquid de terra, de coelo, de ceteris

mundi huius elementis ... etiam non christianus ita noverit, ut

certissima ratione et experientia teneat. Turpe est autem nimis et

perniciosum ac maxime cavendum, ut christianus de his rebus quasi

secundum christianas literas loquentem ita delirare quilibet

infidelis audiat, ut, quemadmodum dicitur, toto coelo errare

conspiciens, risum tenere vix possit” (Ibid. I, 19 n. 39). Cf.

also I, 21. _St. Thomas of Aquin_ also expresses himself in this

sense: “Multum autem nocet, talia, quae ad pietatis doctrinam non

spectant, vel asserere vel negare, quasi pertinentia ad sacram

doctrinam ... Unde mihi videtur tutius esse, ut haec, quae

philosophi communius senserunt et nostrae fidei non repugnant,

neque sic esse asserenda ut dogmata fidei, licet aliquando sub

nomine philosophorum introducantur, neque sic esse neganda tamquam

fidei contraria, ne sapientibus huius mundi contemnendi doctrinam

fidei occasio praebeatur” (Opusc. X. ad Jo. Vercel. Proem.).

The doctrine of the _Church_ concurs with this, as laid down in

numerous documents, many of them quoting the above-mentioned words

of _St. Augustine_. It also insists that the interpretation of the

Fathers be only taken as a standard of the Church’s explanation of

the meaning of Scripture when they are unanimous on the meaning of

a passage relating to faith and morals; but not to other things

(cf. Encycl. Providentissimus, Denz. 10 ed., n. 1947, 1944; Conc.

Trid., sess. IV., Conc. Vat. sess. III., c. 2, Denz. nn. 786,

1788).

Now if one simply opens Holy Scripture, takes up some passage at random,

explains it in its most literal sense, and then insists that this is the

evident meaning, and goes on to assert with the same insistence that this

is the interpretation of the Church, and a part of the faith of Catholics

in regard to the natural sciences, then of course it is very easy to make

out contradictions between faith and science: but such efforts cannot

claim to be scientific. It is not necessary to know theology and the

principles of Catholic exegesis; but it is not proper that those who are

ignorant of these matters pass judgment on them, not even in the name of

objective research.

Hence we may easily see what we should think of a writer who

asserts that the examination of the Christian-Catholic idea of the

world leads to the following results: “The Books of Moses,

inspired by divine revelation, are the golden key to the

understanding of the whole history of creation. Other Scriptural

passages of the Old and New Testaments, the writings of the

Fathers, etc., are to be considered as supplementary to these.

According to these authorities the earth is a flat disc,

surrounded by the sea. Above it arches the firmament of heaven,

with its great lights for day and night. Below it are purgatory

and hell. All this is not the gradual outgrowth of lengthy

evolution, but was created by God out of nothing in a few days,

about six thousand years ago, of which four thousand are reckoned

before Christ and two thousand after Christ. Although modern

science has long since established that the Biblical narrative is

of no worth, nothing but an imperfect reproduction of older myths,

the Catholic Church continues to teach it literally to this very

day, spreading it broadcast by thousands and thousands of

catechisms, and insisting on it being learned as a part of

religious instruction in all schools, and to be accepted as the

revealed truth” (_L. Wahrmund_, Katholische Weltanschauung und

freie Wissenschaft, 1908, p. 14. The scientific value of this work

has been considered by _L. Fonck_, Katholische Weltansch).

“Clericalism,” we are told, “stands on a rigidly fixed view of the

world, corresponding in part to the childhood of mankind, to the

dawning of civilization.... Philosophy, built upon the results of

progress, since it is unceasingly forcing its way ahead, cannot

remain in accord with the notions belonging to a remote past,

partly to Babylonian and Egyptian civilization, partly to the

thought of nomadic times.” It is then pointed out how this view of

the world on which clericalism, that is, the Catholic Church, is

based, has already been overthrown in many instances. “The

geocentric position, the doctrine of our earth being the centre

and man the ultimate aim of the universe, must needs be abandoned

by the world of scientists, in view of the new system of

Copernicus; the doctrine also of the earth being a disc must be

abandoned in consequence of the voyage of Columbus, and subsequent

discoveries, which make it certain that the earth is a globe”

(Prof. _K. Menger_, Die Eroberung der Universitaeten. Neue Freie

Presse, Nov. 24, 1907). It is surprising what little knowledge

suffices to warrant writing about theological matters in the name

of “objective research.”

These passages, in regard to their scientific contents and manner,

recall vividly an American work that appeared some time ago, and

reached many editions. It is entitled, “A History of the Conflict

Between Religion and Science,” by _J. W. Draper_. The book was

answered by a competent authority, _De Smedt_, S. J., “L’Eglise et

la Science,” 1877.

It seems _Draper’s_ arguments have since become a pattern for

many. He, too, maintains that Holy Writ has always been declared

by the Church and the Fathers to be a source of profane science.

This, he states, is true especially of _St. Augustine_. We read:

“The book of Genesis ... also in a philosophical point of view

became the grand authority of Patristic science. Astronomy,

geology, geography, anthropology, chronology, and indeed all the

various departments of human knowledge, were made to conform to

it.... The doctrines of _St. Augustine_ have had the effect of

thus placing theology in antagonism with science....” “No one did

more than this Father to bring science and religion into

antagonism; it was mainly he who diverted the Bible from its true

office—a guide to purity of life—and placed it in the perilous

position of being the arbiter of human knowledge....” “What, then,

is that sacred, that revealed science, declared by the Fathers to

be the sum of all knowledge?... As to the earth, it affirmed that

it is a flat surface, over which the sky is spread like a dome. In

this the sun and moon and stars move, so that they may give light

by day and by night to man.... Above the sky or firmament is

heaven; in the dark and fiery space beneath the earth is hell....”

(pp. 57-63).

By reading again what we said above, especially the urgent

admonitions of _St. Augustine_ not to look upon the Scriptures as

a text-book of profane science, one will be able to appreciate the

scientific quality of the book in question.

The fancy of this writer has distorted Christianity and the Church

into a monster that has nothing more important to do than to tread

down and crush science and civilization. A few examples will

suffice to show how he proves the _contradictions between faith

and science_. The Christian religion teaches that man is subject

to death as a penalty for original sin: prior to that sin death

had no power over Adam and Eve. It is claimed that this is a

contradiction of science. But how? Long before Adam, thousands of

animals and plants had died, the author asserts. “The doctrine

declared to be orthodox by ecclesiastical authority is overthrown

by the unquestionable discoveries of modern science. Long before a

human being had appeared on earth millions of individuals, nay,

more, thousands of species and even genera had died” (p. 57). The

author has completely missed the point. The matter in question is

not the death of animals and plants, but the death of man. The

infallibility of the Pope is refuted by the fact that he failed to

foresee the result of the war between France and Germany.

“Notwithstanding his infallibility, which implies omniscience, His

Holiness did not foresee the issue of the Franco-Prussian war” (p.

352, also p. 362).

How high his historical statements are to be rated is shown by the

assertion that _Cyril of Alexandria_ had much to do with the

introduction of the worship of the Virgin Mary (p. 55); that

auricular confession was introduced by the Fourth Lateran Council

in 1215 (p. 208). He asks when the idea originated that the

Pentateuch was written by Moses under divine inspiration, and he

finds that “not until after the second century [of the Christian

era] was there any such extravagant demand on human credulity” (p.

220). It would seem incredible that any one could write such

stuff.

The author says in his preface: “I had also devoted much attention

to the experimental investigation of natural phenomena, and had

published many well-known memoirs on such subjects. And perhaps no

one can give himself to these pursuits, and spend a large part of

his life in the public teaching of science, without partaking of

that love of impartiality and truth which philosophy incites”

(VIII-IX). We do not care to argue with the author about his

experience in experimental research, nor about his love for the

truth, but he himself has shown superabundantly that they have not

sufficed to keep him clear from scientific shallowness and the

grossest blunders. Nevertheless, it seems that his scientific

ability obtained for him in the consideration of many the weight

of an authority. _Haeckel_, in his “Weltraetsel,” refers

repeatedly to the book, and recommends “its truthful statements

and excellent discussion” to his readers (Weltraetsel, 17. Kap.,

Wissenschaft u. Christentum).

Such is the fashion in which contradictions between faith and

science, and the Church’s hostility towards scientific research,

are proved.

The result is that we must distinguish clearly between dogmas of faith and

private opinions or interpretations. Of course it may frequently happen,

and has happened, that the Christian savant is too timorous, and looks

askance at the discoveries of science, and even thinks he ought to resist

them, because he is afraid that religious truth might be opposed by them.

Nor can it be said that this timidity is altogether without excuse, for

there was hardly one scientific discovery of the nineteenth century that

was not immediately grasped and exploited by eager enemies of the

Christian religion. Too often has science been made the menial of

infidelity, and the assertion has been untiringly repeated that science

and faith cannot agree. No wonder, then, that timid souls become

suspicious, that they are prone to resist the whole theory of evolution in

a lump, instead of trying to distinguish between what is of scientific

value in it, and what is misused for the purpose of denying creation.

Nevertheless, such narrow-mindedness is strongly to be censured. It has

often caused the reproach, that Catholics lack the freedom to admit

scientific discoveries. They forget the wise admonition of the prince of

mediæval theologians, that it were advisable, in regard to scientific

views which have nothing to do with religion, neither to set them down as

truths of faith, nor either to reject them as contrary to faith lest

occasion be given to think contemptuously of the faith. As long as men are

and men think, narrow-mindedness will never be lacking. Hence if the

believing scientist wants to know whether he is running counter to faith

in any particular, he has to ascertain from theological text-books what

the Church declares to belong to faith, what explanation of Holy Scripture

is unconditionally binding, and not what is the individual opinion of

theologians, much less what some pious nurse is telling the little ones.

This is the first rule concerning the relation between faith and science:

it states what the scientist is _not_ tied down to.

2. Science Retains its Method of Research.

But when and how may the scientist be restricted? Here we come to the

second point: the directions which faith may give to the profane sciences

are in themselves not of a positive but of a _negative kind_; revelation

and Church cannot tell the scientist what he is to assert or defend in the

field of the profane sciences, but only what propositions he must _avoid_.

Thus every science is left free to pursue its own method of research. It

is not difficult to understand this.

Faith draws from divine revelation; profane sciences, as such, do not draw

from divine revelation, but only from experience and reason. Philosophy

would cease to be philosophy and become theology did it demonstrate the

immortality of the soul by revelation. The anthropologist would cease to

be an anthropologist and become a theologian if he would attempt to prove

the common origin of mankind by Holy Scripture.

In other words, the profane sciences are distinguished from faith and

theology by their formal object, by the end they have in view, by the

scientific method with which they handle their subject. Theology, of

course, uses revelation extensively; and in this it differs from the other

sciences. Hence faith cannot command the anthropologist to defend also in

profane science the common origin of the human race from Adam and Eve,

because it is held to be a revealed truth. He must say: I believe as a

Christian that this is true, established by divine revelation, and no

science will ever prove the contrary; but whether I can positively defend

this fact as resulting from anthropology, depends on my ability to

corroborate it by the methods of this science, that is by the testimony of

profane history. And just as little could the historian be required to

obtain historical results of which he cannot produce the evidence

according to his method.

Therefore faith can only tell the profane scientist that he must not

assert anything which is held by faith to be erroneous; that it is false

to say there is nothing but force and matter, that the human soul ends in

death, or that the various families of the human race have not a common

origin. As soon as the scientist knows by faith that a thing is false, he

is bound to refrain from asserting it: bound in the first place by the

duty to believe, but also by the principles of his own science, which is

to find not error, but truth, which forbids to assert what has been proved

to be erroneous. Perhaps his own means will not enable him to prove the

truth independently of revelation; then from the standpoint of his science

he must say, _Non liquet._

The position of the Catholic Church agrees with these principles.

She knows, and emphasizes that science has its own method, and

hence a natural right and freedom to proceed in its own field

according to its method. The Church rejects but one kind of

freedom, viz., the freedom to propound a doctrine proved by faith

to be erroneous. “The Church by no means forbids these disciplines

to use in their own field their own principles and method,”

declares the Vatican Council. “But, while acknowledging this

lawful freedom, the Church takes care to prevent them from taking

up errors in opposition to divine teaching, or from creating

confusion by transgressing their limits and invading the realm of

faith” (Vat. sess. III, ch. 4. Cf. also the letter of _Pius IX_.,

“Gravissimas,” of Dec. 11, 1862, to the Archbishop of Munich,

Denz. n. 1666, _seq._)

These few remarks show the lack of intelligence in the charge that

“Catholic philosophy starts from dogmas and revelation,” or that the

Church would dictate to scientists everything they should teach; that,

according to its principles it could claim the right “to impose upon a

physicist of _Zeppelin’s_ era the task of proving the Ascension of Christ

or the Assumption of Mary by aërostatic rules.” This is simply gross

ignorance or misrepresentation.

3. Restraint Only in the Province of Revelation.

In what matters may faith and the Church be a guide to research in this

negative sense? In all fields, or only some? Evidently only in their own

sphere. But to the sphere of faith belongs only what is contained in

divine revelation, viz., the truths of _religion and morality_, as laid

down in Scripture and tradition, the truths of God and His work of

salvation, of man and his way to his eternal destiny, of the means of

grace, and of the Church. Whatever lies outside of that sphere does not

belong to the province of faith. This is true also of the teaching

authority of the Church. The purpose of the Church is to guard faithfully

the treasure of divine revelation and to transmit it in an authoritative

manner to mankind: hence her authority in teaching is confined to what is

contained in revelation, and what is necessary for an efficient custody

and transmission of it to mankind. Hence she may declare certain truths as

revealed, she may reject opposing errors, she may condemn books offensive

to faith, she may approve or reject systems of ethics. But she cannot set

up wholly new religious truths or revelations. _Depositum custodi_—this is

the purpose of the Church. Still less are matters of an entirely profane

nature subject to the teaching authority of the Church. Profane sciences

can therefore receive direction from faith only in those matters which at

the same time belong to the province of faith.

What follows from this? It follows that _almost all the profane sciences

are incapable of being instructed or restricted by faith_, because their

province lies outside that of faith, and does not come in touch with it:

they are left to themselves to correct their errors. When the astronomer

in his observatory watches the movements of the planets, and bases thereon

his mathematical calculations, when the physicist or chemist in his

laboratory observes the laws of nature or makes new discoveries, when the

pathologist studies the symptoms of diseases in organisms, no warning

voice interrupts their work of study. Of course when they deny the

creation, the possibility of miracles, then they conflict with faith; but

then they have ceased to be naturalists, they have become philosophers.

When the botanist or zoölogist in his laboratory is studying plants and

animals and collecting his specimens, when the palæontologist is

excavating and examining his fossils, they enjoy perfect freedom: all this

has nothing directly to do with faith. And there is no warning sign set up

for the geographer or geologist when settling the orographical or

hydrographical conditions of countries or measuring geological strata; no

danger signal disturbs the linguist in establishing the grammar of unknown

languages, nor the archæologist or the historian, when they discover new

documents or decipher inscriptions. Nor does anybody interrupt the

mathematician in his calculations.

What unnecessary worry, then, for the representatives of mathematics,

geology, palæontology, and chemistry to write burning protests against the

fetters of dogma in the interest of their scientific activity! And it is

superfluous worry for professors of the technical arts to get excited by

imagining that electricity and steam must be treated according to

ecclesiastical precepts. Nor is there need of emphasizing the statement

that there cannot be a Catholic chemistry, geography, or mathematics—it is

self-evident.

Hence almost the entire province of the profane sciences, which are the

pride of our age and occupy the foremost position in our universities,

with their laboratories, institutes and observatories and meteorological

stations, are free and perfectly undisturbed by faith. If accordingly any

one should be of the opinion that the Christian-minded scientist were

hindered in his scientific research, he would have to consider him an

unhampered investigator at least in this vast field.

Most in touch with faith comes _philosophy_. Not in the vast field of

logic, of empirical psychology, in questions concerning the essence of

bodies and their forces, in matters of mere history of philosophy; but in

questions of views of the world and life, in metaphysics and ethics, it

does. These, the highest questions, bearing on the direction and pursuit

of human life, matters that most occupy the human mind, are at the same

time subjects of revelation; God Himself has deigned to teach the truth in

these matters, to make them safe for all time against the error of the

mind of man. Here philosophers encounter danger-signals. They hear, what

their reason even tells them, that it is erroneous to think there is no

world of spirits, no God above nature, no immortality, no life hereafter,

no providence. Nor could one say that philosophy is the loser by being

kept from error which endangers human life. Nowhere are errors so apt to

occur as in questions which are outside the sphere of immediate

experience; nowhere are self-deceptions more common than there, where

disposition and character continually influence the mind.

A modern representative of philosophy, _E. Adickes_, writes as

follows: “In the course of this history (of metaphysics) there

have been given long since all the principal answers that are at

all possible to all metaphysical questions. The building up of

metaphysical systems can and will proceed, nevertheless, and their

multiplicity will remain.... Of course, progress will not be

gained thereby: results will not gain in certainty, contradictions

and mysteries do not diminish.”

“If the greatest of the ancient Greek natural scientists,

physicians, and geographers should rise again they would be amazed

at the progress made in their sciences; like beginners they would

sit at the feet of teachers of our day, they would lack the most

elementary ideas; they would first have to learn what every

grammar-school boy knows, and much of what they once considered

achievements would be disclosed to them as deception or mere

hypothesis. On the other hand a _Plato_, an _Aristotle_, a _Zeno_

or _Epicurus_, might readily take part in our discussions about

God and the soul, about virtue and immortality. And they could

safely use their old weapons, the keenness of which has suffered

but little from the rust of time and the attacks of opponents.

They would be astonished at the little progress made, so that now,

after two thousand years, the same answers are given to the same

questions.” (Charakter und Weltanschauung, 1905, p. 24).

A science which must make such a confession has no reason to

reject with haughty self-confidence the intimations of a divine

revelation.

The _science of history_ again has not the duty of praising everything

that has happened within the Catholic Church or else to repress it; no,

only the truth is desired. But it must not start out with the assumption

that God’s influence in the world, a divine revelation, miracles, and a

supernatural guidance of the Church, are impossible; nor must it attempt

to construe history according to that assumption. Hence it must not

undertake to explain the religion of the Jewish nation, or the origin of

Christianity, by unconditionally ignoring everything supernatural, and

attempting to eliminate it by prejudiced research and by means of natural

factors, whether they be called Babylonic myths or Greek philosophy or

anything else; it must not impugn the credibility of the Gospel, claiming

that reports of miracles must be false; it must not write the history of

the Church and deliberately ignore its supernatural character, as if it

were the violent struggle of a federation of priests for universal rule.

Assured results undoubtedly are arrived at in history less frequently than

in other sciences; it offers full play to suppositions, hypotheses,

constructive fancy, the influence of ideas inculcated by education and

personal views of the world, especially when summing up facts. Hence here

more than anywhere else must moral character and unselfish love of the

truth stand higher than the desire for freedom.

The _history of religion_ and _anthropology_ must be forbidden to assume

that the human mind is but a product of animal evolution, that therefore

religion and morality, family and state life, reason and language, and the

entire intellectual and social life have necessarily evolved from the

first stages of animal life. If we add that _jurisprudence_ in its highest

principles comes in touch with faith, and that it also must not dispute

the divine right of the Church, we have mentioned the most important

sciences and instances in which the investigator must take faith into

consideration.

We now understand in what sense we may rightly speak of a “_Christian

philosophy and science_” or of a “_Catholic science of history_.” Surely

not in this sense that philosophy and history have to draw their results

from Holy Scripture or from the dogmatical decisions of the Church; nor in

the sense that they have to make positive defence for everything that the

Church finds it necessary to prescribe. The sense is merely this: they

guide themselves by faith, as we said above, by refraining from

propositions and presumptions proved by faith to be false. In a large

measure this is also the meaning of the often-misrepresented term,

_Catholic University_. In the reverse sense we may speak of a liberal

science. It is that science which in the field of philosophy and religion

guides itself by the principles of liberalism and the principle of liberal

freedom and the rejection of faith. But to speak of a Catholic,

Protestant, Liberal chemistry or mathematics, has no sense at all, because

these disciplines, like most other profane sciences, have no direct

connection with Catholicism, Protestantism, or Liberalism.

That we have stated correctly the _attitude of the Catholic

Church_ is evidenced by more than one official document. In the

decree of the Holy Office of July 3, 1907, the so-called Syllabus

of _Pius X._, the following (5.) proposition is condemned:

“Inasmuch as the treasure of faith contains only revealed truths,

it does not behoove the Church under any consideration to pass

judgment on the assertions made by human sciences.” Similarly was

the proposition (14), likewise condemned in the Syllabus of _Pius

IX._: “Philosophy must be pursued without any regard to

supernatural revelation.”

These condemnations stirred up anger: “Now,” it was said, “the

Church wants to subject the whole of human knowledge to her

judgment: this is unbearable insolence.” But what follows from

these condemnations? The opposite truth asserted in them is this:

the Church in one respect must pass judgment on the assertions

made by human science, namely, in so far as they come in conflict

with the doctrines of faith. The only freedom rejected by the

Council is the freedom to contradict revealed truth: it must not

be held “that human science may be pursued with freedom, that its

assertions can be considered true and must not be rejected by the

Church even if they contradict a revealed doctrine.” (sess. III,

ch. 4, can. 2). The Church does not want to judge on matters of

profane science; but she claims the right, due to her as guardian

appointed for the preservation of the pure faith, to raise her

warning voice when, for instance, natural science transgresses its

limits and trespasses on the province of religion by denying the

creation of the world. It is but self-defence against an attack

upon her inviolable domain. But she does not claim the authority

to sit in judgment upon the results of astro-physics, upon the

atom-hypothesis, or its opposite; or on the acceptance of a theory

about ions or earthquakes.

Another question may be touched upon: Is the _Catholic historian_ free to

proceed steadily in the search after historic truth, even where he

discovers facts which do not reflect honour on his Church? And where it is

a question of uncertain, private revelation, of doubtfulness of relics and

other sacred objects exposed for public worship, may he proceed

undisturbed with his critical research, or is he restrained by

ecclesiastical authority?

Should the Catholic meet with dark passages in the history of his Church,

then every well-meaning observer will demand that he display in the

treatment of such matters a pious forbearance for his Church. His respect

for her will dictate this. Unsparing criticism and hunting for blemishes

and shadows must be excluded. But he cannot on this account be bound to

pass by the unpleasant facts he may meet in his researches, or to cloak or

deny them against his better knowledge. He knows that the divinity of his

Church shows itself to best advantage just because, notwithstanding many

weaknesses and faults, past and present, she passes unvanquished and

imperishable through all storms,—a token of the supernatural origin of her

strength and power of endurance.

It was this very thought that moved _Leo XIII._ to open the Vatican

Archives for freest research to friend and enemy,—the clearest proof that

could possibly be given that the Church does not fear historical truth. In

his letter of admonition, of August 18, 1883, urging the fostering of

historiography, the same Pope gives the following rules for the Catholic

scientist: “The first law of history is that it must not say anything

false; the second, that it must not be afraid of saying the truth, lest a

suspicion of partiality and unfairness arise.” An excellent example of the

application of these rules is found in _L. v. Pastor’s_ “History of the

Popes,” especially in what he says about _Alexander VI._ and _Leo X._

In his historical investigation of private revelations, such as those of

_St. Gertrude_, _St. Mechtild_, _Bl. Juliana of Liège_, or of relics and

objects of veneration, the historian is likewise not restricted by

Church-direction. Having merely the task of preserving the treasure of the

faith received from Christ and the Apostles, the Church in her function as

Teacher never vouches for the divine origin of new, private revelations,

nor for the accuracy of pious traditions of another kind. True, she

decides authoritatively whether private revelations contain anything

against faith and morals, but she decides nothing more. If she accepts

such revelations or traditions as genuine, she claims for the facts in

question only that human faith which corresponds to their historical

proof.

This is clearly stated by the recent encyclical _Pascendi_: “In

judging of pious traditions, the following must be kept in mind:

the Church employs such prudence in treating of these matters that

she does not allow such traditions to be written about except with

great precaution and only after making the declarations required

by _Urban VIII._; and even then, after this has been properly

done, the Church by no means asserts the truth of the private

revelation or of the tradition, but merely permits them to be

believed, provided there be sufficient human reasons. It was in

this sense that the Sacred Congregation of Rites declared

thirty-one years ago: ‘These apparitions are neither approved nor

condemned by the Holy See; it merely permits them to be believed

in a natural way, provided the tradition on which they rest be

corroborated by credible testimonies and documents.’ Whoever

follows this maxim is safe. The veneration of such things is

always conditional, it is only relative, and on the condition that

the tradition be true. In so far only is the veneration absolute

as it relates to the Saint to whom the veneration is paid. The

same applies to the veneration of relics.” (_Benedict XIV._ says

of private revelations: “Praedictis revelationibus etsi

_approbatis_, non debere nec posse a nobis adhiberi assensum fidei

catholicae, sed tantum fidei humanae juxta regulas prudentiae,

juxta quas praedictae revelationes sunt probabiles et pie

credibiles.” De Serv. Dei beatificatione, III, c. ult. n. 15).

Hence the historian is free to investigate such traditions

critically, provided, of course, that he does not violate the

reverence due to sacred things.

4. Infallible and Non-Infallible Teachings.

Now to consider a last point. Does it not rest entirely with the pleasure

of ecclesiastical authority, as would seem from what has been said above,

to suppress at any time the results, or at least the hypotheses, of

scientific research by pointing to putative truths of faith presumed to be

in opposition? Then, of course, the scientist would be at the mercy of a

zealous ecclesiastical authority. Or will it perhaps be said that this

authority is infallible in its every decision? Think of _Galileo_, of the

interdict against the Copernican view of the world, and you will be able

fully to appreciate the danger alluded to!

We shall later on return to the famous case of _Galileo_. For the present

we only call attention to a distinction which must not be overlooked, the

distinction between infallible teachings and those that are not

infallible.(3)

According to Catholic teaching, the universal teaching body of the Church,

when declaring unanimously to be an object of faith something relating to

faith and morals, is endowed with _infallibility_, and also when in its

daily practice of the faith it unanimously professes a doctrine to be a

truth of faith. This infallibility is also possessed by the Pope alone

when, acting in his capacity as Supreme Teacher of the Church in matters

of faith and morals, he intends to give a permanent decision for the whole

Church (ex cathedra).

Besides these infallible teachings there are also _non-infallible_

teachings, and they are the more frequent. Such are, first of all, the

ordinary doctrinal utterances of the Pope himself in his regular

supervision of the teaching of doctrine: these instructions and

declarations are of a lower kind than those peremptory ones that are

pronounced ex cathedra: he is infallible only in the utterance of these

ultimate, supreme decisions, the chief bulwark, as it were, erected

against the floods of error. Decisions ex cathedra are very rare.

Encyclical letters, too, are, as a rule, not infallible. It is

self-evident that the theological opinions and statements of the Pope as a

private person, not as Supreme Head of the Church, do not belong here at

all. They have no official character and are in no way binding.

Among decisions that are not infallible are further included, in various

degrees, the doctrinal utterances of Bishops, of particular synods, and

especially those of the Roman Congregations. The latter are bodies of

Cardinals, delegated by the Head of the Church, as highest Papal boards,

to co-operate with him in the various offices of administration. Of these,

the Congregation of the Holy Office and that of the Index may also render

decisions on doctrinal questions. Although the Congregations act by virtue

of their delegation from the Pope, and publish their decrees with his

consent, the decisions are not decisions of the Pope himself, but remain

decisions of the Cardinals. Much less can the infallibility of the Pope

pass over to them: it is his personal prerogative, the aid of the Holy

Ghost is promised to him, and protects his judgments under certain

conditions against error.

But the Catholic owes submission also to the non-infallible teachings; and

not only an outer submission, a reverent silence, that offends not either

verbally or in writing against the decision rendered, but he owes also his

inner assent. But it cannot be that unconditional inner assent which he

owes to the infallible decision, for this he holds to be irrevocably

certain; nor is his assent to non-infallible decisions a real act of

faith. He is not given any unconditional guarantee of the truth. An error

is, of course, most unlikely, but not absolutely impossible. Hence the

faithful Catholic should always be ready to accept such decisions in as

far as they are warranted by recognized truth. This applies to all kinds

of doctrinal teaching, but of course in different ways, corresponding to

the degree of authority,—for instance, Papal decisions are of higher

authority than those of the Congregations,—yet it applies also to the

doctrinal decisions of the Congregations, because they are the ordinary

teaching organs of the Church.

When the Congregation of the Index, 1857, had forbidden the works

of _Guenther_ and many thought they could evade the decision,

_Pius IX._ wrote, June 15, to the Archbishop of Cologne: “The

decree is so far-reaching that nobody may think himself free not

to hold what we have confirmed.” Similar was what the Pope had

written to the Archbishop of Mecheln after the condemnation of the

ontological errors of _Ubagh_. The Motu proprio of _Pius X._ of

November 8, 1907, speaks similarly of the obligation of submission

to the decisions of the Papal Biblical Commission relating to

doctrines, and to the decrees of Congregations when approved by

the Pope. (Cf. also the Syllabus of Pius IX., sent. 22.)

Theologians agree that this requisite internal assent is not the

same as irrevocable assent. This was also declared by _Pius IX._

in his letter to the Archbishop of Munich-Freising, saying that

this inner submission is by no means faith; and no theologian will

ascribe infallibility to a mere congregational decree. (See on

this point: _e.g._ _Grisar_, Galileistudien, 1882, 171 _seq._ Cr.

_Pesch_, Theol. Zeitfragen, Erste Folge, 1900, III. _Egger_,

Streiflichter ueber die freiere Bibelforschung, 1889.)

It would be erroneous to think that only in recent times, after

the embarrassment caused by the regrettable _Galileo_ decision the

subtle distinction had been invented that congregational decisions

are not binding on Catholics with absolute force. This was taught

by theologians long before the _Galileo_ case caused any

excitement. In this sense the celebrated writer on Moral Theology,

_Lacroix_, said: “The declarations of none of these Congregations

are infallible.... No infallibility is promised to the

Congregation in so far as it is viewed as separate from the Pope”

(Theologia Moralis, 1729, I, n. 215). _Raccioli_, soon after the

_Galileo_ trial, wrote: “The Holy Congregation of Cardinals as

separate from the Pope cannot give to any proposition the proper

authority of faith.” And he adds: “There being extant no decision

of the Pope, or of a Council directed and confirmed by him, the

proposition of the sun moving and the earth standing still cannot

on the strength of a congregational decree be considered a truth

that must be believed” (Almagestum novum, 1651, I, 52).

The obligation to give interior assent also to an authority not

infallible, cannot seem strange if this authority offers a guarantee for

the truth commensurate to the assent demanded. We certainly ask of a child

to receive the instruction from his parent and teacher with internal

assent, so far as the latter does not run counter to its instinct for the

truth, else the education of the child and the needful influence over its

intellectual life would be impossible. Upon the Church has been bestowed

by her divine Founder the task of guiding the faithful authoritatively in

the educational matters committed to the Church, and not only in their

youth but throughout their lives. This guidance in religion and morality

would be impossible if the faithful could constantly deny their internal

assent to the instruction of the Church, which is given generally in a

form that is not infallible. The full power of the Church to teach with

authority implies a corresponding duty of the faithful to assent to her

teachings as far as this is possible. Does not the scientific specialist

think himself obliged to accept a proposition on the strength of a certain

authority, even if the latter’s infallibility is not established? He reads

in his scientific periodical and finds in it the report of special

researches made by a colleague. He cannot examine them over again, yet he

accepts them because of the reliability of his colleague, in which he sees

the guarantee of truth. Likewise, only more so, does the Catholic owe it

to his sense of truth to impose upon himself an assent even where the

representatives of the teaching authority of the Church are not endowed in

their decision with the gift of infallibility. For he knows that even in

such teachings the Church is commonly under the guidance of the Holy

Ghost, who will seldom tolerate error. He is promised to the teaching

Church for the safe guidance of the faithful; these declarations are,

however, the ordinary doctrinal utterances of that ecclesiastical office.

And the Holy Ghost cannot permit that the teaching authority should by a

wrong decision forfeit the confidence it enjoys.

Moreover, this authority ranks very high even when looked at from a purely

human standpoint. Those who are invested with it are mostly men of great

learning, competent to give such doctrinal decisions by virtue of their

experience and position, and learned advisers are at their side. They are

guided by the tradition and wisdom of a universal Church, which measures

its history by thousands of years: the decisions, too, are for the most

part but the application or repetition of previous doctrinal utterances.

Besides, there is the hesitating caution which advances to a decision only

after long deliberations, and in undemonstrated matters usually refrains

from decision; a caution which has increased still more in recent times,

since so many subtle questions have arisen on the boundaries of science

and faith. It is also known that many inquisitive eyes are constantly

turned on Rome, and a single wrong decision might entail most disagreeable

consequences for friend and foe. The pressure must be very great before a

much-disputed question is taken up at all.

Of course it is by no means impossible that difficulties may pile up in

such a way that an error may really be made. History knows of such a case.

But the very fact that the one case of _Galileo_ is always quoted, and,

therefore, that in the long history of the Congregations this is

considered to be almost the only case of importance, is a proof how

carefully the Congregations proceed, and that supernatural aid is granted

them. An institution which in the course of its long existence had to

reply to innumerable questions and against which only one wrong decision

of importance can be pointed out, must necessarily be an exemplary

institution. An institution so free from human error must surely be guided

by the Holy Ghost. Compare with this the many cases in which science has

had to correct itself, had to abandon its long-championed propositions as

untenable.

Thus, in a given case, the decision is not difficult for the Catholic. On

one side stand the representatives of a science which has erred, very

often, incomparably more frequently than the ecclesiastical teaching

authority, and which lacks the special aid of God. On the other side is

the ecclesiastical authority, which has almost never erred, and which

enjoys special divine aid; moreover, it examines into its questions with

greater caution and care, because it has more to lose. In addition it is

almost invariably able to point to a large number, and frequently the

majority, of savants who indorse its decisions, because these mostly

concern disputed questions not yet scientifically determined. Hence the

Catholic will find no difficulty in presuming that the decision is in

accord with the truth; the more so because, as a rule, he himself is

unable to examine scientifically both sides of the question.

Should any one, nevertheless, be clearly convinced, by substantial and

valid reasons, that there has been prejudgment, then he would not be any

longer obliged to give it his interior assent: truth before all else. It

would be easy, too, by presenting reliable information to an authoritative

quarter, to secure the triumph of the truth. However, in this case a man

must be ever on his guard against the tendency to overrate his own

arguments. In excitement he easily thinks himself to be certainly in the

right, but when considering the matter quietly before God and his

conscience, he will rarely come to the conclusion that it would be wise to

set his judgment above the decision. In the case of _Galileo_ the decision

of the Congregation was by no means opposed by a clear conviction of the

truth of the opposite.

Take, for instance, a more recent decision of the Congregation,

forbidding craniotomy. It has often been denounced. The question

was submitted to the Congregation of the Holy Office whether it

were permissible to teach that craniotomy is allowable in case the

mother cannot give birth to the child, and that both will have to

die unless the child be killed and removed by a surgical

operation. The Congregation answered twice in the negative, in May

and August, 1889. Neither craniotomy, nor any operation implying

the direct murder of the child or mother can be taught to be

permissible. The reason on which the answers were based is that

the direct murder of an innocent person in order to save human

life is never allowable; and this applies to the murder of a

child, which has as much right to its life as any other person. In

the case of craniotomy we have the direct murder of the child. We,

too, shall have to admit, if we judge according to the objective

morality of the action, that the Congregation is in the right;

though it may seem hard to let both mother and child die rather

than take a life directly, we shall have to admit that it is more

in accord with the sanctity of the moral law than the opposite,

though the latter may seem preferable to medical practice. Viewed

in the interest of truth and the purity of the moral law, it is

gratifying to know that there is a court courageous enough to

uphold this law always and everywhere, even when it becomes hard.

So much about assenting to doctrinal decisions that are not infallible.

In regard to _infallible_ decisions, the Catholic knows that there are

certain truths which no result of science can contradict. To these

decisions he owes unconditional submission, and he gives it with

conviction: he knows the promise, “I am with you always, even unto the

consummation of the world.” New decisions of this kind are very rare. When

the dogma of the Infallibility of the Pope was proclaimed in 1870, the

fear was frequently expressed that the Head of the Roman Church would

hasten to make the fullest use of this prerogative, by erecting

theological barriers at all nooks and corners in the realm of thought. The

fear did not come true; it was unfounded.

A Protestant scientist wrote recently: “Those who thought

_Doellinger’s_ prediction of a prolific crop of dogmas would come

true were disappointed. There has been no new dogma pronounced

since 1870, although there were many pious opinions that certain

circles would have been only too glad to see confirmed. On looking

calmly at the dogma of infallibility it is seen that it was, after

all, not so bad as had been feared during the first excitement”

(_K. Holl_, Modernismus, 1908, p. 9, Religionsgesch. Volksbuecher,

IV, 7, Heft).

We may get a good idea of the precaution taken prior to the proclamation

of an infallible decision by perusing the History of the Vatican Council,

published by _Granderath_, in three volumes. He describes the proceedings

with conscientious objectiveness. He shows how minutely all questions had

been previously studied, with all the available means of scientific

investigation, and how minutely and freely they were discussed by the most

venerable representatives of the Catholic world.

Cardinal _Gibbons_, Archbishop of Baltimore, gave his impressions of the

Vatican Council as follows:

“I happened to be the youngest Bishop that attended the Council of the

Vatican, and, while my youth and inexperience imposed on me a discreet

silence among my elders, I do not remember to have missed a single

session, and I was an attentive listener at all the debates.... I think I

am not exaggerating when I say that the Council of the Vatican has been

excelled by few, if any, deliberative assemblies, civil or ecclesiastical,

that have ever met, whether we consider the _maturity_ of years of its

members, their _learning_, their _experience_ and _piety_, or the

widespread influence of the _Decrees_ that they framed for the spiritual

and moral welfare of the Christian Republic.

“The youngest Bishop in the Council was thirty-six years old. Fully

three-fourths of the Prelates ranged between fifty-six and ninety years.

The great majority, therefore, had grown gray in the service of their

Divine Master. Several Fathers of the Church, bent with age, might be seen

passing through St. Peter’s Basilica to the council chamber every morning,

leaning with one hand on their staff, the other resting on the shoulder of

their secretary. One or two blind Bishops could be observed, guided by

their servants, as they advanced to their posts with tottering steps,

determined to aid the Church in their declining years by the wisdom of

their counsel, as they had consecrated to her their vigorous manhood by

their Apostolic labours.

“But to the gravity of years the members of the Council generally united

profound and varied learning....

“They were men, too, of world-wide experience and close observation. Each

Bishop brought with him an intimate knowledge of the history of his

country and of the religious, moral, social, and political condition of

the people among whom he lived. One could learn more from an hour’s

interview with this living encyclopædia of divines, who were a world in

miniature, than from a week’s study of books.... The most ample liberty of

discussion prevailed in the Council. This freedom the Holy Father pledged

at the opening of the synod, and the pledge was religiously kept. I can

safely say that neither in the British House of Commons, nor in the French

Chambers, nor in the German Reichstag, nor in our American Congress, would

a wider liberty of debate be tolerated than was granted in the Vatican

Council. The presiding Cardinal exhibited a courtesy of manner and a

forbearance even in the heat of debate that was worthy of all praise. I do

not think that he called a speaker to order more than a dozen times during

the eighty-nine sessions, and then only in deference to the dissenting

murmurs or demands of some Bishops. A Prelate representing the smallest

diocese had the same rights that were accorded to the highest dignitary in

the Chamber. There was no limit prescribed as to the length of the

speeches. We may judge of the wide scope of discussion from the single

fact that the debate on the Infallibility of the Pope lasted two months,

occupying twenty-five sessions, and was participated in by one hundred and

twenty-five Prelates, not counting one hundred others who handed in

written observations. No stone was left unturned, no text of Sacred

Scripture, no passage in the writings of the Fathers, no page of

Ecclesiastical History bearing on the subject, escaped the vigilant

investigations of the Bishops, so that the whole truth of God might be

brought to light....

“The most important debate in the Council was that on the Infallibility of

the Pope. It may be proper to observe here that the discussion was rather

on the expediency or opportuneness of defining the dogma than on the

intrinsic truth of the doctrine itself. The number of Prelates who

questioned the claim of Papal Infallibility could be counted on the

fingers of a single hand. Many of the speakers, indeed, impugned the

dogma, not because they did not personally accept it, but with the view of

pointing out the difficulties with which the teaching body of the Church

would have to contend in vindicating it before the world. I have listened

in the council chamber to far more subtle, more plausible, and more

searching objections against this prerogative of the Pope than I have ever

read or heard from the pen or tongue of the most learned and formidable

Protestant assailant” (North American Review, April, 1894).

Obedience of Faith and Freedom of Action.

In looking back at what has been said, we see the justice of the question:

where is here any real injury to lawful freedom in thought and scientific

research? In most of the profane sciences the scientist receives no

directions from the authority of faith; he is altogether free, as long as

he keeps within his province. In some matters he is given a list of errors

to beware of: these are in the first place the great questions concerning

views of the world and life, of which, after all, it is very difficult to

obtain scientific knowledge. But here he knows, through the conviction he

has of the truth of his faith, that he is offered the truth free from

error and prejudice.

It is true, adhering to a religious authority implies restraint. But it is

only the restraint of truth. Truth does not lose its claim upon the mind

because it is offered to the latter by a supernatural authority; much less

does the Creator lose the right to the tribute of homage of his rational

creature; and this tribute is rendered by voluntary submission to the

revealed truth. Upon the Church, however, has been laid the task of

preserving unadulterated the legacy of her Founder from generation to

generation. She is responsible before God and history for the faithful

presentation of the most sacred inheritance of mankind. Therefore the

Church must raise her voice when the puny thoughts of men, called science

and progress, rise against the saving truth to disparage, to falsify, to

annihilate it. _It is not science the Church opposes, but error_; not

truth, but the emancipation of the human mind from God’s authority, an

emancipation that is trying to hide its real self under the guise of

scientific truth.

“The Church,” says the Vatican Council (Sess. III, ch. 4), “having

received with her apostolic office to teach, the obligation of preserving

the legacy of the faith, has also the God-given right and duty to condemn

what is falsely called science, ’lest any one be cheated by philosophy and

vain deceit.’” That the denial of the faith is flippantly called science

does not alter the case. What determines the attitude of the Church is not

eagerness to rule, not a propensity to apply force to the mind, but

loyalty to her vocation. If it is disagreeable for any superior to have to

correct those under him, then it requires an heroic strength and courage

to cry out time and again to the whole world and its leading minds,

_Errastis_, you have erred! It requires heroism to reject, to oppose and

condemn, time and again, propositions sailing under the flag of progress,

light and enlightenment, in spite of the protest of those concerned, who

denounce whatever opposes them as darkness and retrogression. How much

easier it would be to fawn upon the pet ideas of the age,

Neo-protestantism and Modernism, and thus to gain their approval, than to

hear repeatedly the distressing words, “We will not have her to rule over

us—_crucifige, crucifige_!”

But why not let _science correct itself_? Why these violent condemnations

and indictments? Science, by virtue of its instinct for the truth will by

itself find the way back, when it has gone on the wrong track; only be

patient. Science has in itself the cure for all its defects. Has it not

already all by itself overcome numerous errors in the course of the

centuries? Indeed, were there nothing at stake but scientific theories

they might be readily left to themselves: the loss to mankind would not be

great. But here there are more important issues at stake. The protection

of the faith, of truths of the vastest importance for Christian life and

the souls of men. And it is the duty of the Church to protect her charges

from going astray, from dangers to salvation. How many thousands of them

would suffer harm before it would please science to correct its heresies!

It often takes a long time to pull down the idols placed upon pedestals,

and then it may be only to erect another idol. How long will it take

modern philosophy to agree that the will of man is free, that there is a

substantial immortal soul, that a Creator of the world dwells above the

heavens? Is the Church to wait till the men of science make up their minds

to desist from denying the existence of a personal God, and to bow before

the Creator of heaven and earth? Should she meanwhile look on calmly how

such ruinous doctrines are pervading and penetrating society deeper and

deeper? Souls cannot wait thus to suffer shipwreck. Finally, the duty to

believe remains the same for all, for the scientist, too—he is not free to

delay his assent until he has exhausted all his antagonistic scientific

experiments.

To be sure, the scientist is restricted in so far as he is not allowed to

pursue any and every hypothesis, regardless of the immutable truth; he may

no longer follow every scientific fashion. But is this a real detriment to

the human intellect and science? Has not every science to bear _restraint

from other sciences_ at all times? The adherent of _Darwin’s_ theory of

natural selection needs a billion years for his slow evolution; but the

geologist tells him that neither the formation of the earth’s surface nor

the strata or sub-strata have taken so long in formation—he corrects him.

When the philosopher, drawing the logical deductions from his

materialistic views of the world, assumes that the first living being

sprang from lifeless matter, the naturalist informs him that this is

contradicted by facts—there never has been a case of spontaneous

generation. The naturalist is corrected by the better experiment of men of

his profession, the scientific author is corrected by his critic. Hence if

a man submits to the guidance of other men of his profession, if one

science accepts direction from another science, without any one seeing any

injury to freedom therein, why, then, should it be mental oppression for

God’s infallible wisdom to call out through His Church to the fallible

human mind: this is error, I declare it so? When the guide-post points out

to the traveller that he is on the wrong way, will the wanderer

indignantly resent the correction as an interference with his freedom of

action? Is the railing along the steep precipice, to guard against falling

down, an interference with liberty? Is the lighthouse, warning the sailor

of cliffs and shoals, any interference with his freedom?

Generally those who oppose the Christian and Catholic duty to believe use

the following argument: Where there is restraint and dependence there is

no freedom; the Christian, and especially the Catholic, is restrained and

dependent; hence he is not free: consequently he has no true science,

because there can be no true science without freedom. In the same way it

may be argued: The civilized nation is restrained in various ways by the

civil order, therefore it is not free. The careful writer of scientific

works is tied down on all sides by the rules of logic, by the dictates of

good style, by scientific usages: hence he is not free.

Let us not lose sight of the question. It cannot be denied that the man

who does not bother about faith has a greater outer freedom than the man

who does. We speak purposely of outer freedom. It is quite another

question, where real internal freedom exists, _i.e._, freedom from the

fetters of one’s own inclinations and prejudices,—in the religiously

disciplined mind, or in the other. Here we speak of inner freedom.

Obviously it is greater in the former. The deer in the forest is freer in

his movements than the cautious mountain-climber, who keeps to marked

roads and paths, so as to journey safely, yet the latter is not without

freedom. Nor will any one deny that the Australian bushman enjoys a

greater outer freedom than the civilized white, restrained by laws, by

rules and regulations, by standards of decency. And the busy writer of

many things and everything, who in his writing never pays any attention to

logic, to scientific form, to style and tact, has more freedom than one

who strictly conforms to all these.

_Every civilization, culture, and education implies restriction of

freedom_, and the more the rejection of dependence and laws increases the

nearer we approach the state of uncultured and barbarous nations. The same

applies to intellectual culture. The higher it is, the more learning and

mental culture a man has, the greater the number of truths, principles,

and intellectual standards he carries within him. By these he is bound if

he wants to advance into the higher spheres of intellectuality. And the

more the intellect rejects laws and standards the more unregulated and

dull its intellectual life will become. The more one knows the more

strictly is he bound to truth in every respect; the less one knows the

freer he is to commit errors. This is no advantage, it is the privilege of

the ignorant and untrained mind. The believer is bound by religious truth

in the same way as one who knows the truth is bound by it, while one who

is ignorant of it is not.

It is certainly not impossible for the obedience of faith to create

_intellectual conflict_. There may be cases when scientific views look

probable to the scientist, while they contradict a doctrine of faith or an

ecclesiastical decision. The roads may even cross more radically. It may

happen that his views and books are condemned, forbidden by the Church.

If the conflicting doctrine should be an _infallible_ one, the decision of

the believing scientist is soon reached. He knows now what to think of his

hypothesis, that it is not true progress but aberration, and consistency

with his own conviction moves him to desist. Thus the philosophical errors

of modern times are opposed almost throughout to infallible dogmas, for

the most part fundamental doctrines of the Christian religion. This is

also the legal right under which revelation and the Church approach the

scientist with the demand not to permit his views to go contrary to faith,

because there can never be a contradiction between faith and reason.

“There can never be a contradiction between faith and reason,” the Vatican

Council teaches; “the apparent conflict is due either to the doctrine not

being understood and interpreted in the sense of the Church, or to

erroneous opinions that are mistaken for conclusions of reason” (Conc.

Vat. sess. III, cp. 4). If the Catholic finds his position opposed to

_non-infallible_ decisions, then he will re-examine his views in unselfish

impartiality before God. If he must calmly tell himself that his arguments

are not so weighty as to be able to stand up before so high an authority,

guided by the Holy Ghost, then he will forego the gratification of holding

fast to his own opinions, and will remind himself that true wisdom knows

the fallibility of the human mind, and is ever ready to take advice from a

divinely guided authority. Perhaps he will recall the words of the great

_St. Augustine_: “Better bow before an incomprehensible but saving symbol

than entangle one’s neck in the meshes of error” (De doctr. Christ. III,

13). This Christian self-denial surpasses in beauty even science itself,

and sheds upon it a greater splendour.

The great _Fénelon_, proceeding to his pulpit in the cathedral of

Cambrai, on Annunciation day in 1699, was handed by his brother

the Roman brief condemning twenty-three propositions of

_Fénelon’s_ “Maximes des Saints.” The Bishop took the writing,

calmly ascended the pulpit and announced it forthwith, and

preached a sermon on the submission due to ecclesiastical

superiors, at which the whole congregation was greatly moved. A

few days later he announced in an episcopal letter to his diocese

his submission, “simple, absolute, and without a shadow of

reservation.” By this deed, an heroic act of obedience, _Fénelon_

is placed higher in history than by his brilliant works, than by

the honour of having been the illustrious tutor of the Dauphin of

France.

_Antonio Rosmini-Serbati_ in August, 1849, received official

notice of the condemnation of two of his works by the Congregation

of the Index. He immediately sent in his submission: “With the

sentiments of a true and obedient son of the Apostolic See, that I

have always been by the grace of God and wish ever to be, and have

ever acknowledged myself, I now declare clearly and sincerely,

without reservation, my submission, in the most complete manner,

to the condemnation of my writings.” Both the condemnation and the

submission were soon made the target of attack by the Liberal

press. _Rosmini_ replied in an admirable open letter: “To my great

sorrow I have seen several articles in different newspapers which

dare criticize the Holy Congregation of the Index for condemning

my writings. Inasmuch as I have submitted to the decree of the

said Congregation with all sincerity, and with full interior and

exterior obedience as becomes a true son of the Church, every one

will easily understand how much I regret these articles and

disapprove of them. Yet I deem it not superfluous to declare

expressly that I reject those articles entirely and that I do not

accept the praise for me which they offer. With regard to other

newspaper writers, who are censuring me and even insulting me for

having done what it was my duty to do, in submitting to the

condemnation, as though I had committed a crime, I can only say

that I greatly pity them, and that they would fill me with

contempt could I deem it permissible to despise any one” (apud _J.

Hilgers_, Der Index der verbotenen Buecher, 1904, 413).

A _Fénelon_ or a _Rosmini_, bowing with the humility of the

Christian savant to the judgment of their Church, have thereby

forfeited nothing of their intellectual fame in the eyes of

earnest critics, but, on the contrary, have greatly increased the

respect for their noble character.

Even should the future prove as scientifically correct that which the

believing scientist does not as yet clearly see, that he was

scientifically in the right, no considerable damage would result to

science. Providence, which guides human affairs, will protect science for

its noble modesty in submitting meanwhile to an authority appointed by

God. As a matter of fact, science cannot be shown ever to have suffered

any real loss by such submission, not even in the _Galileo_ case, as we

shall see further on. On the other hand, countless are the errors and

injuries which have befallen human thought and belief, and which the

Church has warded off from those who yielded to her guidance. Of course

the submission may become difficult if a man clings to his views, or has

already publicly proclaimed them. Then, indeed, a bitter struggle may

ensue. A number of scientists have failed to stand the test and have left

to posterity the ill-fated name of apostates. The Church regrets such

cases; but the deposit of faith is too precious to be endangered for the

sake of any individual.

For this reason the Church is and must be _conservative_; for this reason

she may have to warn against the dissemination of propositions which may

not in themselves be false, but fraught with danger for the time being.

She cannot take part in any hasty effort to make experiments, risking

everything inherited in order to try something new.

During the nineteenth century the United States was repeatedly the

scene of communistic experiments. Daring adventurers assembled

people and founded settlements on communistic principles, private

property being abolished. In 1824 _Robert Owen_ founded a colony

in Indiana, which soon grew to nine hundred members, living in the

fashion of atheistic communism. In 1825 the colony adopted its

first constitution, which within the following year suffered six

complete revisions. In June of the second year the last members of

the colony ate their farewell dinner together. The experiment had

come to a speedy termination. A Frenchman, _Etienne Cabet_,

founded, in 1848, a new colony in Texas, called Icaria. Soon it

numbered 500 members. Each family had its small homestead.

Children were educated by the community. Amusement was provided

for by a band and a theatre; a library supplied more intellectual

wants. But soon it all fell into decay. _Cabet_ departed and died.

In 1895 the newspapers reported the dissolution of the last

remnant of the colony. Such is the fate of experiments.

Daring adventurers may undertake them. The lecturer at college,

too, will be readily pardoned for his eagerness to take up the

cudgel in defence of what is new in his profane science: he may

easily correct himself. But the Teacher of the Centuries and of

the Nations, in the sphere of religion and morals, has not the

right to experiment. Here, where mistakes may entail the direst

consequences, the rule must be: slowly onward, to keep the whole

from ruin. Cardinal _Benedict Gaetani_, later Pope _Boniface

VIII._, once praised Rome for having _pedes non plumeos sed

plumbeos_—not winged feet, but leaden heels.

Sentiments of the kind just set forth are of course possible only in

conjunction with the belief in a revelation and in the supernatural

character of the Church, where the interests of faith come first, and must

be unconditionally preserved. He who lacks this conviction, he to whom the

Church is but a human institution, founded in the course of time, tending

perhaps to oppose truth and science for fear they might endanger the

submission of minds—to such a one the Catholic’s confident devotion to his

Church, and consciousness of unimpaired freedom at the same time, will be

unintelligible; and the inflexibility of the Church in defending the faith

will pass his comprehension. And woe to the Church when her position

toward science is being tried before this court: only harsh denunciations

are to be expected where the judge does not understand the matter he

undertakes to decide.

Nor do we attempt to bridge the chasm that separates the two views of the

world which we here again encounter, the one, which rejects the

supernatural world, the other, the view of the believing Christian. We

have but endeavoured to show that _faith does not restrain the mental

freedom of one who is convinced of the truth of his faith_. Submission to

the authority of faith is the consequence of his conviction. This is the

question to be decided: Either there is a revelation and a Church founded

by God, or there is not. If such there be, or if it is only possible, then

modern freedom of thought, with its demand of exemption from all

authority, is against reason and morality. If there is not, then this

should be proved. It can be done consistently only by acknowledging

atheism. For if there is a personal God, then He can give a revelation and

found a Church, and demand submission from all. Since the days of _Celsus_

to this day the attempt to demonstrate that the convictions of a faithful

Christian are unjustifiable has proved futile.

Obedience of Faith and Injury to Science.

While all this is true, yet one may not share this conviction, nor rise to

the certainty that there is a supernatural world whence the Son of God

descended to teach man and to found an infallible Church. Still, to be

fair, he must admit that no real danger to freedom of research and

progress of science results from submission to faith, as shown above.

In the first place it must be admitted that the assertion is still

unproved, that a positive result of research has ever come in hopeless

conflict with a dogma of faith; hence that science has been prevented from

accepting this result. No such case can be found. The condemnation of the

Copernican view of the world will be considered presently; we pass over

the fact that at the time of its condemnation it was not a positive result

of science: the main point is that the condemnation was not an irrevocable

dogma of faith, but only the decision of a Congregation, which was

withdrawn as soon as the truth was clearly demonstrated. Besides, science

has suffered no injury from that decision.

In general, where there is real contradiction between science and faith,

the matters in question are invariably _hypotheses_. Is it more than an

hypothesis, and a very doubtful hypothesis at that, that the world and God

are identical, that there is an eternal, uncreated course of the world,

that miracles are impossible? That what is said about the natural origin

of Christianity, the origin of the Jewish religion from Babylonian myths,

the origin of all religions from fear, fancy, or deception, is it anything

more than hypothetical? The false systems of knowledge, subjectivism, and

agnosticism—are they more than hypotheses? Ask their originators and

champions; they will admit it themselves; and if they will not admit it,

others will tell them that their propositions are not only hypotheses, but

often quite untenable. There is hardly a single hypothesis which has not

its vehement opponents. That the serious conflict between dogma and

science is waged only in this field could be proved by abundant examples.

Besides, is it not the philosophical axiom of modern freedom of thought,

that in the sphere of philosophy and religion there is no certain

knowledge, but only supposition?

Can hypotheses claim to rank as assured results of research which should

be universally accepted? Why should it not be allowed to contradict them,

to oppose them with other suppositions? Is it not in the interest of

science that this be done, that they be subjected to sharp criticism, lest

they gradually be given out for positive results? Is it not a shameful

trifling with the truth, when a _Haeckel_ deceives wide circles by

pretending that most frivolous hypotheses are established results of

science? Is it not misleading when modern science treats the rejection of

a supernatural order as an established principle?

And how often the hypotheses of profane sciences change! “Laymen

are astonished,” says _H. Poincaré_, “that so many scientific

theories are perishable. They see them thrive for a few years, to

be abandoned one after the other; they see wrecks heaped upon

wrecks; they foresee that theories now fashionable will after a

short while be forgotten, and they conclude that these theories

are absolute fallacy. They call it the bankruptcy of science”

(Wissenschaft u. Hypothese, German by _F. Lindemann_, 2d ed.,

1906, 161). The conclusion is certainly unjustified, but the fact

itself remains. Is it then a loss to science when faith opposes in

the field of religion these variations of opinion with fixed

dogmas?

Or are these perhaps of less worth, or less certain than their

contraries? Is the dogma of the existence of God of less value

than atheism? Is the conviction of the existence of a world of

spirits less substantial than the philosophy of materialistic

monism? Is the doctrine of the origin of the human soul from the

creating hand of God found inferior to the notion that the soul

has developed from the lower stages of animal life? Should the

holy teaching of Christianity, doctrines believed by the best

periods in the world’s history, believed in and professed by minds

like those of an _Augustine_, a _Thomas_, and a _Leibnitz_;

doctrines that since their appearance on earth have always

attracted the noble and good, and repelled chiefly the base and

immoral; doctrines that still wait for their first unobjectionable

refutation—should such doctrines be less sure than the

innumerable, ever-changing suggestions of unregulated thought,

apparently directed by an aversion to everything supernatural?

Erravimus.

Yet another fact may be pointed out. It is an undeniable fact that

science, after straying for some time, is not unfrequently _compelled to

return to what is taught by faith and the Church_, thus confirming the

truth of the faith. Frequently the new theory has come on like a tornado,

sweeping all minds before it. But the tempest was soon spent, the minds

recovered their balance and the hasty misjudgment was recognized.

Not long ago, when materialism revelled in its orgies, especially

in Germany, when _Vogt_, _Buechner_, and _Moleschott_ were writing

their books, and science with _Du Bois-Reymond_ was hunting

_Laplace’s_ theory in the evolution of the world, the Syllabus,

undaunted, put its anathema upon the (58.) proposition: “No other

forces are acknowledged but those of matter.” The summer-night’s

dream came to an end, and people rubbed their eyes and saw the

reality they had lost a while. The materialism of the 60’s and

70’s has been discarded by the scientific world, and finds a

shelter only in the circles of unschooled infidelity. _J. Reinke_,

in the name of biology, bears testimony in the words: “In my

opinion materialism has been disposed of in biology; if,

nevertheless, a number of biologists still stand by its colours,

this tenacity may be explained psychologically; for, in the apt

words of _Du Bois-Reymond_, in the domain of ideas a man does not

willingly and easily forsake the highway of thought which his

entire mental training has opened up” (Einleitung in die

theoretische Biologie, 1901, 52).

A few decades ago a number of scientists declared it impossible

that the different races could have descended from one pair of

ancestors, as taught by faith: the difference between the various

families being too great and radical, it was said; the difference

being rather of species than of race. Moreover, there was

announced the discovery of people without religion, without

notions of morality and family life; of tribes incapable of

civilization and culture; it was asserted in the early days of

_Darwin_ enthusiasm that there had been discovered a race of men

that clearly belonged to the species ape. Assertions of this kind

have gradually ceased. Now the different human races are

considered to belong to the same species, and their common

parentage is considered possible from the view-point of the theory

of evolution. The anthropologist _Ranke_ expresses his opinion

thus: “We find the bodily differences perfectly connected by

intermediate forms, graded to a nicety, and the summary of the

differences appears to point to but one species.... This is the

prevalent opinion of all independent research of anatomically

schooled anthropologists” (Der Mensch, 2d ed., II, 1894, 261).

Ethnology denies the existence of nations or tribes without

religion (_Ratzel_, Voelkerkunde, I, 1885, 31). _Peschel_ says:

“The statement that any nation or tribe has ever been found

anywhere on earth without notions and suggestions of religion can

be denied emphatically” (_O. Peschel_, Voelkerkunde, 6th ed.,

1885, 273). “The more recent ethnology knows of no tribes without

morality, nor does history record any” (_W. Schneider_, Die

Naturvoelker, 1886, II, 348).

Until a short time ago it was believed that the derivation of

man’s life from inferior stages of animal life would not be

difficult to prove; but at present, while many still adhere to the

theory that man has developed from the brute, the conviction is

steadily gaining ground that it cannot be scientifically proved

and that it becomes more and more difficult to disprove man’s

higher origin. Unable to withstand the force of facts, one

hypothesis gives place to another: what had to be found could not

be found, living or extinct links between the brute and man

refused to appear anywhere, and those which people thought they

had found, turned out to be unsuitable. _Kohlbrugge_ concludes his

criticism of the recent theories of the evolution of the body of

man from lower animals with the confession: “The above summary is

enough to convince everybody that we do not know anything distinct

about the great problem of evolution; we have not yet seen its

face. All must be done over again” (Die Morpholog. Abstammung des

Menschen, 1908, 88). _Virchow_ said at the anthropological

congress of Vienna, 1889: “When we met at Innsbruck twenty years

ago Darwinism had just finished its first triumphal march through

the world, and my friend _Vogt_ became its ardent champion. We

have searched in vain for the missing link connecting man directly

with the ape.”

What has become of those anatomic-morphologic links between man

and beast, the _pithecanthropus erectus_, the man dug out at

Neandertal, Spy, Schipka, La Naulette, and Krapina, and shown with

great confidence to the world? What has become of the prehistoric

man, said to belong to the glacial period of Europe, and to have

ranked far below the present man? _J. Kohlmann_ writes: “I wish to

state that I thoroughly adhere to the theory of evolution, but my

own experience has led me to the result that man has not changed

his racial characteristics since the glacial period. He appears on

the soil of Europe physically complete, and there is no ape-man to

be found” (apud _Ranke_, Ibid. 480). Prof. _Branco_, director of

the Palæontological Institute of Berlin, says: “Palæontology tells

us nothing about the missing link. This science knows of no

ancestors of man” (at the 5th international Zoological Congress,

1901, _Wasmann_, Die mod. Biolog. 3, p. 488). And the

palæontologist _Zittel_ says: “The missing link between man and

ape, though a postulate of the theory of evolution, has not been

found” (_Ranke_, l. c. 504). _E. Grosse_ concludes his studies on

evolution with the significant words: “I began this book with the

intention of writing a history of the evolution of the family, and

I finish it convinced that at present the writing of that history

is impossible for me or for anybody else” (Die Formen der Familie,

1896, Vorwort). _Ranke_ is perfectly right in saying that “it

behoves the dignity of science to confess that it knows nothing of

the origin of man” (Thuermer V, 1902, I. Heft).

A century ago or so, ridicule was heaped in the name of science on

the description in the Bible of the last day: “The stars shall

fall,” “and the powers of heaven shall be moved,” “the elements

shall be melted with heat, and the earth shall be burnt up” (Matt.

xxiv. 29 _seq._; Luke xxi. 25 _seq._; Mark xiii. 24 _seq._; 2 Pet.

iii. 10). Then the assertion that stones could fall from the skies

caused a smile, but now science has come to the general knowledge

that this is not only possible, but perhaps really will be the end

of all things, if once our earth on its journey through unknown

spaces of the universe should collide with a comet or get into a

cosmic cloud of large meteors. (Cf. the graphic description in _K.

Braun_, Ueber Kosmogonie, 3d ed., 1905, p. 381 _seq._)

An example of another kind: It is not so long since Protestant,

liberal Bible-criticism and its history of early Christian

literature, in the endeavour to remove everything supernatural

from the beginning of Christianity, regarded the New Testament and

the oldest Christian documents as unreliable testimony, even

forgeries, and for this reason placed the date of their origin as

late as possible. But now they have to retrace their steps.

_A. Harnack_ writes: “There was a period—the general public is

still living in it—when the New Testament and the oldest Christian

literature were thought to be but a tissue of lies and forgeries.

This time has passed. For science it was an episode in which much

was learned of which much must be forgotten. The result of

subsequent research over-reaches in a ‘reactionary’ effect what

might be termed the central position of modern criticism. The

oldest literature of the Church is in the main and in most details

true and reliable, that is, from the literary and historical point

of view.... I am not afraid to use the word ‘retrogressive’—for we

should call a spade a spade—the criticism of the sources of the

earliest Christianity is beyond doubt moving retrogressively

towards tradition” (Chronologie der Alt-Christ. Literatur I, 1897,

VIII). In a more recent work the same savant writes: “During the

years from 30 to 70 all originated in Palestine, or, better, in

Jerusalem, what later on was developed. This knowledge is steadily

gaining and replacing the former ‘critical’ opinion that the

fundamental development had extended over a period of about a

hundred years” (Lukas der Arzt, 1906, Vorwort). This retrogression

is continued still farther in his later work, “Neue Untersuchungen

zur Apostolgesch. u. zur Abfassungszeit der synopt. Evang., 1911,”

in which _Harnack_ draws very near to the Catholic view regarding

the date of writing of the Acts of the Apostles, as also regarding

_St. Paul’s_ attitude towards Judaism and Christian-Judaism, and

departs from the modern Protestant view (cf. pp. 28-47, 79 _seq._,

86, 93 _seq._). “Protestant authorities on church-history,” he

says elsewhere, “no longer take offence at the proposition that

the main elements of Catholicism go back to the Apostolic era, and

not only peripherically” (Theol. Literar. Zeitung, 1905, 52).

In a speech, much commented on, which he made at his university

January 12, 1907, Prof. _Harnack_, discussing the religious

question in Germany, called attention to the fact that there has

been quite a marked return to the Catholic standpoint: “From the

study of Church history we find that we all have become different

from what our fathers were, whether we may like it or not. Study

has shown that we are separated from our fathers by a long course

of development; that we do not understand their ideas and words at

all, much less do we use them in the sense they used them.” He

then draws out the comparison more particularly: “_Flacius_ and

the older Protestants denied that _Peter_ had ever been in Rome at

all. Now we know that his having been there is a fact well

evidenced in history.” The motto of the older Protestants was that

the Scriptures are the sole source of revelation. “But now, and

for a long time past, Protestant savants have realized that the

Scriptures could not be separated from tradition, and that the

collecting of the New Testament Scriptures was a part of

tradition.” “Protestants of the sixteenth century taught

justification by faith alone, without works. In the absence of

confessional controversy, no evangelical Christian would now find

fault with the teaching which declares only such faith to be of

any worth which shows itself by the love of God and of the

neighbour” (Protestantismus u. Katholizismus in Deutschland,

Preussisch. Jahrbücher 127. Bd., 1907, 301 _seq._).

Many similar instances of science confessing Erravimus in regard to the

Christian or Catholic position could be cited. They are an admonition to

be modest, not to overrate the value of a scientific proposition, and not,

with supreme confidence and infallibility, to brand it as an offence

against the human intellect to let one’s self be guided by the principles

of faith.

Moreover, it has often happened that science emphatically and sneeringly

rejected propositions, and called them false and absurd, which to-day are

considered elementary.

_Newton_, in 1687, had correctly explained the revolution of the moon

around the earth, and of the planets around the sun, as the co-operation

of gravitation and inertia, and thence concluded also the elliptic form of

the orbits of planets previously discovered by _Kepler_. _Leibnitz_

rejected this theory, _Huygens_ called it absurd, and the Academy of Paris

as late as 1730 still favoured the theory of revolution of _Descartes_; it

was only about the year 1740 that it was generally accepted. _Huygens_,

himself, had formed in 1690 his theory about light-waves. For a long time

it was misunderstood. Only in 1800, or somewhat later, it received its

merited acknowledgment, but noted physicists like _Biot_ and _Brewster_

rejected it still for some time and held to the theory of emission. “Even

in the intellectual world the law of inertia holds good” (_Rosenberger_,

Gesch. der Physik, III, 1887, 139).

The great discoverer _Galvani_ complained of being attacked from

two opposite sides, by the scientists and by the ignorant: “Both

make fun of me. They call me the dancing master of frogs. Yet I

know I have discovered one of the greatest forces of nature.”

When _Benjamin Franklin_ explained the lightning-rod to the Royal Academy

of Sciences, he was ridiculed as a dreamer. The same happened to _Young_

with his theory of the undulation of light. “The Edinburgh Review”

proposed to the public to put _Thomas Grey_ in a strait-jacket when he

presented his plan for railroads. Sir _Humphry Davy_ laughed at the idea

of illuminating the city of London by gas. The French Academy of Sciences

actually sneered at the physicist _Arago_ when he proposed a resolution to

merely open a discussion of the idea of an electric telegraph (_Wallace_,

Die wissensch. Ansicht des Uebernatuerlichen, 102 _seq._).

Until about a hundred years ago scientists almost universally

thought it impossible for a stone to fall from the skies—not to

mention a rain of stones. Of the big meteor that fell at Agram in

1751 the learned Vienna professor, _Stuetz_, wrote in 1790 as

follows: “That iron had fallen from the skies may have been

believed in Germany in 1751 even by its enlightened minds, owing

to the uncertainty then prevailing in regard to physics and

natural history. In our times, however, it were unpardonable to

consider similar fairy tales even probable.” Some museums threw

away their collections of meteors, fearing they would appear

ridiculous by keeping them. In that very year, 1790, a meteor fell

near the city of Juillac in France, and the mayor of the town sent

a report of it to the French Academy of Sciences, signed by three

hundred eye-witnesses. But the wise men of the academy knew

better. Referee _Bertholon_ said: “It is a pity for a town to have

so foolish a mayor,” and added: “It is sad to see the whole

municipality certifying by affidavit to a folk-saga that can only

be pitied. What more can I say of an affidavit like that? Comment

is self-evident to a philosophically trained mind who reads this

authentic testimonial about an evidently false fact, about a

physically impossible phenomenon.” _A. Deluc_, in other respects a

sober-minded man, and a scientist, even remarked that should a

stone like that fall before his feet, then he would have to admit

that he had seen it, but nevertheless would not believe it.

_Vaudin_ remarked: “Better to deny such incredible things than to

have to try to explain them.” Thus taught the French Academy of

that time (apud _Braun_, Ueber Kosmogonie, 3d ed., 1905, 378

_seq._). And now science is teaching the contrary. Everybody knows

that such falling meteors are not only possible, but that they

fall about seven hundred times a year on our earth.

Do not these examples bear a striking resemblance to the attitude of many

of the representatives of modern science towards facts and truths of our

faith?

This has not been said with a view of detracting from the reputation of

science. Not at all. It has fallen to the lot of man to be subject to

error. The above was said to recall that fact. Science is not so

infallible as to be able to claim the right to ignore, in religious and

ethical questions, faith and the Church, and even to usurp the place of

the faith given by God, in order to lead its disciples upon the new paths

of a delivered mankind.