One of the great instruments for preventing historical scrutiny had long

been the Index of prohibited books, which was accordingly directed, not

against falsehood only, but particularly against certain departments of

truth. Through it an effort had been made to keep the knowledge of

ecclesiastical history from the faithful, and to give currency to a

fabulous and fictitious picture of the progress and action of the

Church. The means would have been found quite inadequate to the end, if

it had not been for the fact that while society was absorbed by

controversy, knowledge was only valued so far as it served a

controversial purpose. Every party in those days virtually had its own

prohibitive Index, to brand all inconvenient truths with the note of

falsehood. No party cared for knowledge that could not be made available

for argument. Neutral and ambiguous science had no attractions for men

engaged in perpetual combat. Its spirit first won the naturalists, the

mathematicians, and the philologists; then it vivified the otherwise

aimless erudition of the Benedictines; and at last it was carried into

history, to give new life to those sciences which deal with the

tradition, the law, and the action of the Church.

The home of this transformation was in the universities of Germany, for

there the Catholic teacher was placed in circumstances altogether novel.

He had to address men who had every opportunity of becoming familiar

with the arguments of the enemies of the Church, and with the

discoveries and conclusions of those whose studies were without the bias

of any religious object. Whilst he lectured in one room, the next might

be occupied by a pantheist, a rationalist, or a Lutheran, descanting on

the same topics. When he left the desk his place might be taken by some

great original thinker or scholar, who would display all the results of

his meditations without regard for their tendency, and without

considering what effects they might have on the weak. He was obliged

often to draw attention to books lacking the Catholic spirit, but

indispensable to the deeper student. Here, therefore, the system of

secrecy, economy, and accommodation was rendered impossible by the

competition of knowledge, in which the most thorough exposition of the

truth was sure of the victory, and the system itself became inapplicable

as the scientific spirit penetrated ecclesiastical literature in

Germany.

In Rome, however, where the influences of competition were not felt, the

reasons of the change could not be understood, nor its benefits

experienced; and it was thought absurd that the Germans of the

nineteenth century should discard weapons which had been found

efficacious with the Germans of the sixteenth. While in Rome it was

still held that the truths of science need not be told, and ought not to

be told, if, in the judgment of Roman theologians, they were of a nature

to offend faith, in Germany Catholics vied with Protestants in

publishing matter without being diverted by the consideration whether it

might serve or injure their cause in controversy, or whether it was

adverse or favourable to the views which it was the object of the Index

to protect. But though this great antagonism existed, there was no

collision. A moderation was exhibited which contrasted remarkably with

the aggressive spirit prevailing in France and Italy. Publications were

suffered to pass unnoted in Germany which would have been immediately

censured if they had come forth beyond the Alps or the Rhine. In this

way a certain laxity grew up side by side with an unmeasured distrust,

and German theologians and historians escaped censure.

This toleration gains significance from its contrast to the severity

with which Rome smote the German philosophers like Hermes and Guenther

when they erred. Here, indeed, the case was very different. If Rome had

insisted upon suppressing documents, perverting facts, and resisting

criticism, she would have been only opposing truth, and opposing it

consciously, for fear of its inconveniences. But if she had refrained

from denouncing a philosophy which denied creation or the personality of

God, she would have failed to assert her own doctrines against her own

children who contradicted them. The philosopher cannot claim the same

exemption as the historian. God's handwriting exists in history

independently of the Church, and no ecclesiastical exigence can alter a

fact. The divine lesson has been read, and it is the historian's duty to

copy it faithfully without bias and without ulterior views. The Catholic

may be sure that as the Church has lived in spite of the fact, she will

also survive its publication. But philosophy has to deal with some facts

which, although as absolute and objective in themselves, are not and

cannot be known to us except through revelation, of which the Church is

the organ. A philosophy which requires the alteration of these facts is

in patent contradiction against the Church. Both cannot coexist. One

must destroy the other.

Two circumstances very naturally arose to disturb this equilibrium.

There were divines who wished to extend to Germany the old authority of

the Index, and to censure or prohibit books which, though not heretical,

contained matter injurious to the reputation of ecclesiastical

authority, or contrary to the common opinions of Catholic theologians.

On the other hand, there were philosophers of the schools of Hermes and

Guenther who would not retract the doctrines which the Church condemned.

One movement tended to repress even the knowledge of demonstrable truth,

and the other aimed at destroying the dogmatic authority of the Holy

See. In this way a collision was prepared, which was eventually brought

about by the writings of Dr. Frohschammer.

Ten years ago, when he was a very young lecturer on philosophy in the

university of Munich, he published a work on the origin of the soul, in

which he argued against the theory of pre-existence, and against the

common opinion that each soul is created directly by Almighty God,

defending the theory of Generationism by the authority of several

Fathers, and quoting, among other modern divines, Klee, the author of

the most esteemed treatise of dogmatic theology in the German language.

It was decided at Rome that his book should be condemned, and he was

informed of the intention, in order that he might announce his

submission before the publication of the decree.

His position was a difficult one, and it appears to be admitted that his

conduct at this stage was not prompted by those opinions on the

authority of the Church in which he afterwards took refuge, but must be

explained by the known facts of the case. His doctrine had been lately

taught in a book generally read and approved. He was convinced that he

had at least refuted the opposite theories, and yet it was apparently in

behalf of one of these that he was condemned. Whatever errors his book

contained, he might fear that an act of submission would seem to imply

his acceptance of an opinion he heartily believed to be wrong, and would

therefore be an act of treason to truth. The decree conveyed no

conviction to his mind. It is only the utterances of an infallible

authority that men can believe without argument and explanation, and

here was an authority not infallible, giving no reasons, and yet

claiming a submission of the reason. Dr. Frohschammer found himself in a

dilemma. To submit absolutely would either be a virtual acknowledgment

of the infallibility of the authority, or a confession that an

ecclesiastical decision necessarily bound the mind irrespectively of its

truth or justice. In either case he would have contradicted the law of

religion and of the Church. To submit, while retaining his own opinion,

to a disciplinary decree, in order to preserve peace and avoid scandal,

and to make a general acknowledgment that his work contained various

ill-considered and equivocal statements which might bear a bad

construction,--such a conditional submission either would not have been

that which the Roman Court desired and intended, or, if made without

explicit statement of its meaning, would have been in some measure

deceitful and hypocritical. In the first case it would not have been

received, in the second case it could not have been made without loss of

self-respect. Moreover, as the writer was a public professor, bound to

instruct his hearers according to his best knowledge, he could not

change his teaching while his opinion remained unchanged. These

considerations, and not any desire to defy authority, or introduce new

opinions by a process more or less revolutionary, appear to have guided

his conduct. At this period it might have been possible to arrive at an

understanding, or to obtain satisfactory explanations, if the Roman

Court would have told him what points were at issue, what passages in

his book were impugned, and what were the grounds for suspecting them.

If there was on both sides a peaceful and conciliatory spirit, and a

desire to settle the problem, there was certainly a chance of effecting

it by a candid interchange of explanations. It was a course which had

proved efficacious on other occasions, and in the then recent discussion

of Guenther's system it had been pursued with great patience and decided

success.

Before giving a definite reply, therefore, Dr. Frohschammer asked for

information about the incriminated articles. This would have given him

an opportunity of seeing his error, and making a submission _in foro

interno_. But the request was refused. It was a favour, he was told,

sometimes extended to men whose great services to the Church deserved

such consideration, but not to one who was hardly known except by the

very book which had incurred the censure. This answer instantly aroused

a suspicion that the Roman Court was more anxious to assert its

authority than to correct an alleged error, or to prevent a scandal. It

was well known that the mistrust of German philosophy was very deep at

Rome; and it seemed far from impossible that an intention existed to put

it under all possible restraint.

This mistrust on the part of the Roman divines was fully equalled, and

so far justified, by a corresponding literary contempt on the part of

many German Catholic scholars. It is easy to understand the grounds of

this feeling. The German writers were engaged in an arduous struggle, in

which their antagonists were sustained by intellectual power, solid

learning, and deep thought, such as the defenders of the Church in

Catholic countries have never had to encounter. In this conflict the

Italian divines could render no assistance. They had shown themselves

altogether incompetent to cope with modern science. The Germans,

therefore, unable to recognise them as auxiliaries, soon ceased to

regard them as equals, or as scientific divines at all. Without

impeaching their orthodoxy, they learned to look on them as men

incapable of understanding and mastering the ideas of a literature so

very remote from their own, and to attach no more value to the

unreasoned decrees of their organ than to the undefended _ipse dixit_ of

a theologian of secondary rank. This opinion sprang, not from national

prejudice or from the self-appreciation of individuals comparing their

own works with those of the Roman divines, but from a general view of

the relation of those divines, among whom there are several

distinguished Germans, to the literature of Germany. It was thus a

corporate feeling, which might be shared even by one who was conscious

of his own inferiority, or who had written nothing at all. Such a man,

weighing the opinion of the theologians of the Gesu and the Minerva, not

in the scale of his own performance, but in that of the great

achievements of his age, might well be reluctant to accept their verdict

upon them without some aid of argument and explanation.

On the other hand, it appeared that a blow which struck the Catholic

scholars of Germany would assure to the victorious congregation of Roman

divines an easy supremacy over the writers of all other countries. The

case of Dr. Frohschammer might be made to test what degree of control it

would be possible to exercise over his countrymen, the only body of

writers at whom alarm was felt, and who insisted, more than others, on

their freedom. But the suspicion of such a possibility was likely only

to confirm him in the idea that he was chosen to be the experimental

body on which an important principle was to be decided, and that it was

his duty, till his dogmatic error was proved, to resist a questionable

encroachment of authority upon the rights of freedom. He therefore

refused to make the preliminary submission which was required of him,

and allowed the decree to go forth against him in the usual way.

Hereupon it was intimated to him--though not by Rome--that he had

incurred excommunication. This was the measure which raised the

momentous question of the liberties of Catholic science, and gave the

impulse to that new theory on the limits of authority with which his

name has become associated.

In the civil affairs of mankind it is necessary to assume that the

knowledge of the moral code and the traditions of law cannot perish in a

Christian nation. Particular authorities may fall into error; decisions

may be appealed against; laws may be repealed, but the political

conscience of the whole people cannot be irrecoverably lost. The Church

possesses the same privilege, but in a much higher degree, for she

exists expressly for the purpose of preserving a definite body of

truths, the knowledge of which she can never lose. Whatever authority,

therefore, expresses that knowledge of which she is the keeper must be

obeyed. But there is no institution from which this knowledge can be

obtained with immediate certainty. A council is not _a priori_

oecumenical; the Holy See is not separately infallible. The one has to

await a sanction, the other has repeatedly erred. Every decree,

therefore, requires a preliminary examination.

A writer who is censured may, in the first place, yield an external

submission, either for the sake of discipline, or because his conviction

is too weak to support him against the weight of authority. But if the

question at issue is more important than the preservation of peace, and

if his conviction is strong, he inquires whether the authority which

condemns him utters the voice of the Church. If he finds that it does,

he yields to it, or ceases to profess the faith of Catholics. If he

finds that it does not, but is only the voice of authority, he owes it

to his conscience, and to the supreme claims of truth, to remain

constant to that which he believes, in spite of opposition. No authority

has power to impose error, and, if it resists the truth, the truth must

be upheld until it is admitted. Now the adversaries of Dr. Frohschammer

had fallen into the monstrous error of attributing to the congregation

of the Index a share in the infallibility of the Church. He was placed

in the position of a persecuted man, and the general sympathy was with

him. In his defence he proceeded to state his theory of the rights of

science, in order to vindicate the Church from the imputation of

restricting its freedom. Hitherto his works had been written in defence

of a Christian philosophy against materialism and infidelity. Their

object had been thoroughly religious, and although he was not deeply

read in ecclesiastical literature, and was often loose and incautious in

the use of theological terms, his writings had not been wanting in

catholicity of spirit; but after his condemnation by Rome he undertook

to pull down the power which had dealt the blow, and to make himself

safe for the future. In this spirit of personal antagonism he commenced

a long series of writings in defence of freedom and in defiance of

authority.

The following abstract marks, not so much the outline of his system, as

the logical steps which carried him to the point where he passed beyond

the limit of Catholicism. Religion, he taught, supplies materials but no

criterion for philosophy; philosophy has nothing to rely on, in the last

resort, but the unfailing veracity of our nature, which is not corrupt

or weak, but normally healthy, and unable to deceive us.[355] There is

not greater division or uncertainty in matters of speculation than on

questions of faith.[356] If at any time error or doubt should arise,

the science possesses in itself the means of correcting or removing it,

and no other remedy is efficacious but that which it applies to

itself.[357] There can be no free philosophy if we must always remember

dogma.[358] Philosophy includes in its sphere all the dogmas of

revelation, as well as those of natural religion. It examines by its own

independent light the substance of every Christian doctrine, and

determines in each case whether it be divine truth.[359] The conclusions

and judgments at which it thus arrives must be maintained even when they

contradict articles of faith.[360] As we accept the evidence of

astronomy in opposition to the once settled opinion of divines, so we

should not shrink from the evidence of chemistry if it should be adverse

to transubstantiation.[361] The Church, on the other hand, examines

these conclusions by her standard of faith, and decides whether they can

be taught in theology.[362] But she has no means of ascertaining the

philosophical truth of an opinion, and cannot convict the philosopher of

error. The two domains are as distinct as reason and faith; and we must

not identify what we know with what we believe, but must separate the

philosopher from his philosophy. The system may be utterly at variance

with the whole teaching of Christianity, and yet the philosopher, while

he holds it to be philosophically true and certain, may continue to

believe all Catholic doctrine, and to perform all the spiritual duties

of a layman or a priest. For discord cannot exist between the certain

results of scientific investigation and the real doctrines of the

Church. Both are true, and there is no conflict of truths. But while the

teaching of science is distinct and definite, that of the Church is

subject to alteration. Theology is at no time absolutely complete, but

always liable to be modified, and cannot, therefore, be made a fixed

test of truth.[363] Consequently there is no reason against the union of

the Churches. For the liberty of private judgment, which is the formal

principle of Protestantism, belongs to Catholics; and there is no actual

Catholic dogma which may not lose all that is objectionable to

Protestants by the transforming process of development.[364]

The errors of Dr. Frohschammer in these passages are not exclusively his

own. He has only drawn certain conclusions from premisses which are very

commonly received. Nothing is more usual than to confound religious

truth with the voice of ecclesiastical authority. Dr. Frohschammer,

having fallen into this vulgar mistake, argues that because the

authority is fallible the truth must be uncertain. Many Catholics

attribute to theological opinions which have prevailed for centuries

without reproach a sacredness nearly approaching that which belongs to

articles of faith: Dr. Frohschammer extends to defined dogmas the

liability to change which belongs to opinions that yet await a final and

conclusive investigation. Thousands of zealous men are persuaded that a

conflict may arise between defined doctrines of the Church and

conclusions which are certain according to all the tests of science; Dr.

Frohschammer adopts this view, and argues that none of the decisions of

the Church are final, and that consequently in such a case they must

give way. Lastly, uninstructed men commonly impute to historical and

natural science the uncertainty which is inseparable from pure

speculation: Dr. Frohschammer accepts the equality, but claims for

metaphysics the same certainty and independence which those sciences

possess.

Having begun his course in company with many who have exactly opposite

ends in view, Dr. Frohschammer, in a recent tract on the union of the

Churches, entirely separates himself from the Catholic Church in his

theory of development. He had received the impulse to his new system

from the opposition of those whom he considered the advocates of an

excessive uniformity and the enemies of progress, and their

contradiction has driven him to a point where he entirely sacrifices

unity to change. He now affirms that our Lord desired no unity or

perfect conformity among His followers, except in morals and

charity;[365] that He gave no definite system of doctrine; and that the

form which Christian faith may have assumed in a particular age has no

validity for all future time, but is subject to continual

modification.[366] The definitions, he says, which the Church has made

from time to time are not to be obstinately adhered to; and the

advancement of religious knowledge is obtained by genius, not by

learning, and is not regulated by traditions and fixed rules.[367] He

maintains that not only the form but the substance varies; that the

belief of one age may be not only extended but abandoned in another; and

that it is impossible to draw the line which separates immutable dogma

from undecided opinions.[368]

The causes which drove Dr. Frohschammer into heresy would scarcely have

deserved great attention from the mere merit of the man, for he cannot

be acquitted of having, in the first instance, exhibited very

superficial notions of theology. Their instructiveness consists in the

conspicuous example they afford of the effect of certain errors which at

the present day are commonly held and rarely contradicted. When he found

himself censured unjustly, as he thought, by the Holy See, it should

have been enough for him to believe in his conscience that he was in

agreement with the true faith of the Church. He would not then have

proceeded to consider the whole Church infected with the liability to

err from which her rulers are not exempt, or to degrade the fundamental

truths of Christianity to the level of mere school opinions. Authority

appeared in his eyes to stand for the whole Church; and therefore, in

endeavouring to shield himself from its influence, he abandoned the

first principles of the ecclesiastical system. Far from having aided the

cause of freedom, his errors have provoked a reaction against it, which

must be looked upon with deep anxiety, and of which the first

significant symptom remains to be described.

On the 21st of December 1863, the Pope addressed a Brief to the

Archbishop of Munich, which was published on the 5th of March. This

document explains that the Holy Father had originally been led to

suspect the recent Congress at Munich of a tendency similar to that of

Frohschammer, and had consequently viewed it with great distrust; but

that these feelings were removed by the address which was adopted at the

meeting, and by the report of the Archbishop. And he expresses the

consolation he has derived from the principles which prevailed in the

assembly, and applauds the design of those by whom it was convened. He

asked for the opinion of the German prelates, in order to be able to

determine whether, in the present circumstances of their Church, it is

right that the Congress should be renewed.

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