Petri Privilegium/III/Chapter 4
CHAPTER IV.
SCIENTIFIC HISTORY AND THE CATHOLIC RULE OF FAITH.
It may here be well to answer an objection which is commonly supposed to lie against the doctrine of the Pontifical Infallibility; namely, that the evidence of history is opposed to it.
The answer is twofold.
1. First, that the evidence of history distinctly proves the infallibility of the Roman Pontiff.
I shall be told that this is to beg the question.
To which I answer, they also who affirm the contrary beg the question.
Both sides appeal to history, and with equal confidence; sometimes with equal clamour, and often equally in vain.
By some people 'The Pope and the Council,' by Janus, is regarded as the most unanswerable work of scientific history hitherto published.
By others it is regarded as the shallowest and most pretentious book of the day.
Between such contradictory judgments who is to decide? Is there any tribunal of appeal in matters of history? or is there no ultimate judge? Is history a road where no one can err; or is it a wilderness in which we must wander without guide or path? are we all left to private judgment alone? If any one say, that there is no judge but right reason or common, sense, he is only reproducing in history what Luther applied to the Bible.
This theory may be intellectually and morally possible to those who are not Catholics. In Catholics such a theory is simple heresy. That there is an ultimate judge in such matters of history as affect the truths of revelation, is a dogma of faith. But into this we will enter hereafter.
For the present, I will make only one other observation.
Let us suppose that the divinity of our Lord were in controversy. Let us suppose that two hundred and fifty-six passages from the Fathers were adduced to prove that Jesus Christ is God. These two hundred and fifty-six passages, we will say, may be distributed into three classes; the first consisting of a great number, in which the divinity of our Lord is explicitly and unmistakably declared; the second, a greater number which so assume or imply it as to be inexplicable upon any other hypothesis; the third, also numerous, capable of the same interpretation, and incapable of the contrary interpretation, though in themselves inexplicit.
We will suppose, next, one passage to exist in some one of the Fathers, the aspect of which is adverse. Its language is apparently contradictory to the hypothesis that Jesus Christ is God. Its terms are explicit; and, if taken at the letter, cannot be reconciled with the doctrine of His divinity.
I need only remind you of St. Justin Martyr's argument that the Angel who appeared to Moses in the bush could not be the Father, but the Son, because the Father could not be manifested 'in a narrow space on earth;'[1] or even of the words of our Divine Lord Himself, 'The Father is greater than I.'[2]
Now I would ask, what course would any man of just and considerate intelligence pursue in such a case?
Would he say, one broken link destroys a chain? One such passage adverse to the divinity of Christ outweighs two hundred and fifty-six passages to the contrary?
Would this be scientific history? Or would it be scientific to assume that the one passage, however apparently explicit and adverse, can bear only one sense, and cannot in any other way be explained? If so, scientific historians are bound to the literal prima facie sense of the words of St. Justin Martyr, and of our Lord above quoted.
Still, supposing the one passage to remain explicit and adverse, and therefore an insoluble difficulty, I would ask whether any but a Socinian, ὑποθέσει δουλεύων, servilely bound, and pledged by the perverseness of controversy, would reject the whole cumulus of explicit and constructive evidence contained in two hundred and fifty-six passages, because of one adverse passage of insoluble difficulty? People must be happily unconscious of the elements which underlie the whole basis of their most confident beliefs if they would so proceed. But into this I will not enter now. Enough to say, that such a procedure would be so far from scientific that it would be superficial, unintellectual, and absurd. I would ask, then, is it science, or is it passion, to reject the cumulus of evidence which surrounds the infallibility of two hundred and fifty-six pontiffs, because of the case of Honorius, even if supposed to be an insoluble difficulty? Real science would teach us that in the most certain systems there are residual phenomena which long remain as insoluble difficulties, without in the least diminishing the certainty of the system itself.
But, further, the case of Honorius is not an insoluble difficulty.
In the judgment of a cloud of the greatest theologians of all countries, schools, and languages, since the controversy was opened two hundred years ago, the case of Honorius has been completely solved. Nay more, it has been used with abundant evidence, drawn from the very same acts and documents, to prove the direct contrary hypothesis, namely, the infallibility of the Roman pontiffs. But into this again I shall not enter. It is enough for my present argument to affirm that inasmuch as the case of Honorius has been for centuries disputed, it is disputable. Again, inasmuch as it has been interpreted with equal confidence for and against the infallibility of the Roman pontiff—and I may add that they who have cleared Honorius of personal heresy, are an overwhelming majority compared with their opponents, and let it be said for argument's sake, and with more than moderation, that the probability of their interpretations at least equals that of the opponents—for all these reasons I may, with safety, affirm that, if the case of Honorius be not solved, it is certainly not insoluble; and that the long, profuse, and confident controversy of men whom I will assume to be sincere, reasonable, and learned on both sides, proves beyond question that the case of Honorius is doubtful.
I would ask, then, is it scientific, or passionate to reject the cumulus of evidence surrounding the line of two hundred and fifty-six pontiffs, because one case may be found which is doubtful? doubtful, too, be it remembered, only on the theory that history is a wilderness without guide or path; in no way doubtful to those who, as a dogma of faith, believe that the revelation of faith was anterior to its history and is independent of it, being divinely secured by the presence and assistance of Him who gave it.
And this is a sufficient answer to the case of Honorius, which of all controversies is the most useless, barren, and irrelevant.
I should hardly have thought, at this time of day, that any theologian or scholar would have brought up again the cases of Vigilius, Liberius, John XXII., &c. But as these often-refuted and senseless contentions have been renewed, I give in the note references to the works and places in which they are abundantly answered.[3]
Such is the first part of the answer to the alleged opposition of history.
2. We will now proceed to the second and more complete reply.
The true and conclusive answer to this objection consists, not in detailed refutation of alleged difficulties, but in a principle of faith; namely, that whensoever any doctrine is contained in the Divine tradition of the Church, all difficulties from human history are excluded, as Tertullian lays down, by prescription. The only source of revealed truth is God, the only channel of His revelation is the Church. No human history can declare what is contained in that revelation. The Church alone can determine its limits, and therefore its contents.
When then the Church, out of the proper fountains of truth, the Word of God, written and unwritten, declares any doctrine to be revealed, no difficulties of human history can prevail against it. I have before said: 'The pretentious historical criticism of these days has prevailed, and will prevail, to undermine the peace and the confidence, and even the faith of some. But the city seated on a hill is still there, high and out of reach. It cannot be hid, and is its own evidence, anterior to its history, and independent of it. Its history is to be learned of itself.' 'It is not therefore by criticism on past history, but by acts of faith in the living voice of the Church at this hour, that we can know the faith.'[4]
On these words of mine, Quirinus makes the following not very profound remark: 'The faith which removes mountains will be equally ready—such is clearly his meaning—to make away with the facts of history. Whether any German Bishop will be found to offer his countrymen these stones to digest, time will show.'[5] Time has shown, faster than Quirinus looked for. The German Bishops at Fulda, in their pastoral letter on the Council, speak as follows: 'To maintain that either the one or the other of the doctrines decided by the General Council is not contained in the Holy Scripture, and in the tradition of the Church—those two sources of the Catholic faith—or that they are even in opposition to the same, is a first step, irreconcilable with the very first principles of the Catholic Church, which leads to separation from her communion. Wherefore, we hereby declare that the present Vatican Council is a legitimate General Council; and, moreover, that this Council, as little as any other General Council, has propounded or formed a new doctrine at variance with the ancient teaching, but has simply developed and thrown light upon the old and faithfully-preserved truth contained in the deposit of faith, and in opposition to the errors of the day has proposed it expressly to the belief of all faithful people; and, lastly, that these decrees have received a binding power on all the faithful by the fact of their final publication by the Supreme Head of the Church in solemn form at the Public Session.'[6]
Let us, then, go on to examine the relation of history to faith.
The objection from history has been stated in these words: 'There are grave difficulties, from the words and acts of the Fathers of the Church, from the genuine documents of history, and from the doctrine of the Church itself, which must be altogether solved, before the doctrine of the infallibility of the Roman Pontiff can be proposed to the faithful as a doctrine revealed by God.'
Are we to understand from this that the words and acts of the Fathers, and the documents of human history, constitute the Rule of Faith, or that the Rule of Faith depends upon them, and is either more or less certain as it agrees or disagrees with them? or, in other words, that the rule of faith is to be tested by history, not history by the rule of faith? If this be so, then they who so argue lay down as a theological principle that the doctrinal authority of the Church, and therefore the certainty of dogma, depends, if not altogether, at least in part, on human history. From this it would follow that when critical or scientific historians find, or suppose themselves to find, a difficulty in the writings of the Fathers or other human histories, the doctrines proposed by the Church as of Divine revelation are to be called into doubt, unless such difficulties can be solved. The gravity of this objection is such, that the principle on which it rests is undoubtedly either a doctrine of faith or a heresy.
In order to determine whether it be the one or the other, let us examine first what is the authority and place of human history.
To do so surely and shortly, I will transcribe the rules of Melchior Canus, which may be taken as the doctrine of all theological Schools.
The eleventh chapter of his work 'De Locis Theologicis,' is entitled 'de Humanæ Historiæ Auctoritate.' In it he lays down the following principles:
1. 'Excepting the sacred authors, no historian can be certain, that is, sufficient to constitute a certain faith in theological matter. As this is obvious and manifest to every one, it has no need to be proved by our arguments.
2. 'Historians of weight, and worthy of confidence, as some without doubt have been, both in Ecclesiastical and in secular matters, furnish to a theologian, a probable argument.
3. 'If all approved historians of weight concur in the same narrative of an event, then from their authority a certain argument can be educed, so that the dogmas of theology may be confirmed also by reason.'[7]
Let us apply these rules to the case of Honorius, and to the alleged historical difficulties. Is this one in which 'all approved historians of weight concur in the same narration of events?' In the case of Honorius, it is well known that great discrepancy prevails among historical critics. The histories themselves are of doubtful interpretation. But the Rule of Faith is the Divine tradition of revelation proposed to us by the magisterium, or doctrinal authority, of the Church. Against this, no such historical difficulties can prevail. Into this they cannot enter. They are excluded, as I have said, by a prescription which has its origin in the Divine institution of the Church. The revelation of the faith, and the institution of the Church, were both perfect and complete, not only before human histories existed, but even before the inspired Scriptures were written. The Church itself is the Divine witness, teacher, and judge, of the revelation entrusted to it. There exists no other. There is no tribunal to which appeal from the Church can lie. There is no co-ordinate witness, teacher, or judge, who can revise, or criticize, or test, the teaching of the Church. It is sole and alone in the world. And to it may be applied the words of St. Paul, as St. John Chrysostom has applied them: 'The spiritual man judgeth all things and he himself is judged by no one.' The Ecclesia docens, or the pastors of the Church, with their head, are a witness divinely sustained and guided to guard and to declare the faith. They were antecedent to history, and are independent of it. The sources from which they draw their testimony of the faith are not in human histories, but in Apostolical tradition, in Scripture, in Creeds, in the Liturgy, in the public worship and law of the Church, in Councils: and in the interpretation of all these things by the supreme authority of the Church itself.
The Church has indeed a history. Its course and its acts have been recorded by human hands. It has its annals, like the empire of Rome or of Britain. But its history is no more than its footprints in time, which record indeed, but cause nothing and create nothing.
The tradition of the Church may be historically treated; but between history and the tradition of the Church there is a clear distinction. The school of scientific historians, if I understand it, lays down as a principle that history is tradition, and tradition history: that they are one and the same thing under two names. This seems to be the πρῶτον ψεῦδος of their system; it is a tacit elimination of the supernatural, and of the Divine authority of the Church.
The tradition of the Church is not human in its origin, in its perpetuity, in its immutability. The matter of that tradition is Divine. But history, excepting so far as it is contained in the tradition of the Church, is not Divine but human, and human in its mutability, uncertainty, and corruption. The matter of it is human. Under the name 'tradition' come two elements altogether Divine; namely, that which is handed down as the Word of God written and unwritten, and the mode of handing it down, which is the 'magisterium' or teaching authority of the Church. But against neither the one nor the other of these things can human histories, written by men not inspired by the Spirit of God, not seldom inspired by any other than the Spirit of God, prevail; because against the Church the gates of hell cannot prevail. The visible Church itself is Divine tradition. It is also the Divine depository, and the Divine guardian of Faith. But this Divine tradition contains both the 'Ecclesia docens' and the 'Ecclesia discens;' both infallible, the latter passively, the former passively and actively, by the perpetual assistance of the Spirit of Truth. It contains also the Creed of the Universal Church, the decrees of Pontiffs, the definitions of Councils, the common and constant doctrine of the Church delivered by its living voice in all the world, of which our Divine Lord said, 'He that heareth you, heareth Me.'[8]
Now if this be so, of what weight or authority is human history in matters of faith?
For instance, the Vatican Council affirms that the doctrine of the immutable stability of Peter and of his successors in the faith, and therefore the infallibility of the Roman Pontiff in matters of faith and morals, in virtue of a Divine assistance promised to St. Peter, and in Peter to his successors, is a revealed truth.
What has human history to say to this declaration? Human history is neither the source nor the channel of revelation.
Scientific history may, however, mean a scientific handling of the Divine tradition and the authoritative documents of the Church. But before these things can be thus scientifically handled, they must be first taken out of the hands of the Church by the hands of the scientific critics. And this simply amounts to saying: 'You are the Catholic Church indeed, and possess these documents and histories of your own past. But either you do not know the meaning of them, because you are not scientific, or you will not declare the real meaning of them, because you are not honest. We are the men; honesty and science is with us, if it will not die with us. Hand over your documents, the forged and the true; the forgeries we will find out; the true we will interpret; and by science we will prove that you have erred and led the world into error; and therefore that your claim to be a Divine tradition, and to have a Divine authority, is an imposture. The case of Honorius alone is enough. You say that Pope Leo and Pope Agatho interpreted the Councils of Constantinople so as to show, that whatever faults of infirmity were in Honorius, a doctrinal heretic he was not. We, by scientific treatment of history, have proved that your contemporaneous Popes were wrong; and we are scientifically right in declaring that Honorius was a heretic, not in a large, but in a strict sense, not only as a private person, but as a pope "ex cathedra:" and therefore that the infallibility of the Pope is a fable.'
But why should the school of scientific history prevail over the immemorial tradition of the Church, even in a matter of fact?
And how can it prevail over the definition of the Vatican Council, except by claiming to be infallible, or denying the infallibility of the Catholic Church?
And here lies the true issue. My purpose has been to bring out this one point, namely, that under this pretext of scientific history lurks an assumption which is purely heretical. It has already destroyed the faith of some; and will that of more. Our duty is to expose it, and to put the faithful on their guard against what I believe to be the last and most subtile form of Protestantism. This school of error has partly sprung up in Germany by contact with Protestantism, and partly in England by the agency of those who, being born in Protestantism, have entered the Catholic Church, but have never been liberated from certain erroneous habits of thought.
The first form of Protestantism was to appeal from the Divine authority of the Church to the text of Scripture: that is, from the interpretation of the Holy Scriptures traditionally declared by the Church, to the interpretation of private judgment. This is the pure Lutheran or Calvinistic Protestantism.
The next was, to appeal from the Divine authority of the Church to the faith of the undivided Church before the separation of the East and West. Such was the Anglican Protestantism of Jewell and others.
The third was, to appeal from the Divine authority of the Church to the consent of the Fathers, to the canons of Councils, and the like. Such is the more modern form of Anglicanism; of which I wish to speak with all charity, for the sake of so many whom I respect and love.
Thus far, we have to deal with those who are not in communion with the Holy See.
But there has been growing up, both in Germany and in England, a school, if I may so call it, not numerous nor likely to have succession, which places itself in constant antagonism to the authority of the Church, and, to justify its attitude of antagonism, appeals to 'scientific history.' 'The Pope and the Council,' by Janus, and the attacks on Honorius, are its fruits. These were all avowedly written to prevent the definition of the infallibility of the Roman Pontiff. It was an attempt to bar the advance of the 'magisterium Ecclesiæ' by scientific history.
Now, before the definition of the Vatican Council, the infallibility of the Roman Pontiff was a doctrine revealed by God, delivered by the universal and constant tradition of the Church, recognised in Œcumenical Councils, pre-supposed in the acts of the Pontiffs in all ages, taught by all the Saints, defended by every religious Order, and by every theological school except one, and in that one disputed only by a minority in number, and during one period of its history; believed, at least implicitly, by all the faithful, and therefore attested by the passive infallibility of the Church in all ages and lands, with the partial and transient limitations already expressed.
The doctrine was therefore already objectively de fide, and also subjectively binding in conscience upon all who knew it to be revealed.
The definition has added nothing to its intrinsic certainty, for this is derived from Divine revelation.
It has added only the extrinsic certainty of universal promulgation by the Ecclesia docens, imposing obligation upon all the faithful.
Hitherto, therefore, the authors of Janus, and the like, who appealed to scientific history, appealed indeed from the doctrinal authority of the Church in a matter of revelation; but they may be, so far as God knows their good faith, protected by the plea that the doctrine had not yet been promulgated by a definition.
Nevertheless, the process of their opposition was essentially heretical. It was an appeal from the traditional doctrine of the Catholic Church, delivered by its common and constant teaching, to history interpreted by themselves.
It does not at all diminish the gravity of this act to say that the appeal was not to mere human history, nor to history written by enemies, but to the acts of Councils, and to the documents of Ecclesiastical tradition.
This makes the opposition more formal; for it amounts to an assumption that scientific history knows the mind of the Church, and is better able to interpret its acts, decrees, condemnations, and documents, either by superiority of scientific criticism, or by superiority of moral honesty, than the Church itself.
But surely the Church best knows its own history, and the true sense of its own acts and documents.
The Crown of England would make short work of those who should scientifically interpret the unwritten law, or the acts of Parliament, contrary to its judgments.
Do modern critics suppose that the case of Honorius is as new to the Church as it is to them, or that the Church has not a traditional knowledge of the value and bearing of the case upon the doctrines of faith?
This, again, in non-Catholics would imply no more than the ordinary want of knowledge as to the Divine nature and office of the Church. In Catholics it would imply, if not heresy, at least a heretical animus.
If the Church has prohibited, under pain of excommunication, any appeal from the Holy See to a future General Council, certainly under the same censure it would condemn an appeal from the Council of the Vatican to the Councils of Constantinople interpreted by scientific history.
It is of faith that the Church alone can declare the contents and the limits of revelation, and can alone determine the extent of its own infallibility. And as it alone can judge of the true sense and interpretation of Holy Scripture, it alone can judge of the true sense and interpretation of the acts of its own Pontiffs and Councils.
Under the same head, therefore, and under the same censure, come all appeals from the Divine authority of the Church at this hour, under whatsoever pretext or to whatsoever tribunal; whether to Councils in the future or the past, or to Scripture or the Fathers, or to unauthentic interpretations of the acts of Councils, or to documents of human history.
This being so, it cannot be said that there exist grave difficulties from the words and acts of the Fathers, from the genuine documents of history, and from the Catholic doctrine itself, which if not solved, would render it impossible to propose to the faithful, as a doctrine, the infallibility of the Roman Pontiff; because it was contained, before definition, in the universal and constant teaching of the Church as a truth of revelation. Who is the competent judge to declare whether such difficulties really exist? or, if they exist, what is the value of them; whether they be grave or light, relevant or irrelevant? Surely, it belongs to the Church to judge of these things. They are so inseparably in contact with dogma, that the deposit of faith cannot be guarded or expounded without judging of them and pronouncing on them. And it is passing strange if the Church should be incompetent to judge of these things, and the scientific historians alone competent; that is, if the Church should be fallible in dogmatic facts, and the scientific historians infallible. What is this but Lutheranism in history? In those that are without, this is consistent: in Catholics, it would be not only inconsistent but a heresy.
The Council of the Vatican has with great precision condemned this error in these words: 'Catholics can have no just cause of calling into doubt the faith they have received from the teaching authority (magisterium) of the Church, and of suspending their assent, until they shall have completed a scientific demonstration of the truth of their faith.'[9]
Again, the Council lays down, in respect to 'sciences properly so called, a principle which a fortiori applies to 'historical science,' with signal impropriety so called, by declaring 'that every assertion contrary to the truth of enlightened faith is false … Wherefore all faithful Christians are not only forbidden to defend as legitimate conclusions of science all such opinions as are known to be contrary to the doctrine of faith, especially if they have been condemned by the Church, but are altogether bound to hold them to be errors, which put on the fallacious appearance of truth.'[9]
I have said that the treatment of history can only be called science with signal impropriety; and for the following reasons:
According to both philosophers and theologians, science is the habit of the mind conversant with necessary truth; that is, truth which admits of demonstration, and of the certainty which excludes the possibility of its contradictory being true.
According to the scholastic philosophy, science is defined as follows:
Viewed subjectively, it is 'the certain and evident knowledge of the ultimate reasons or principles of truth attained by reasoning.'
Viewed objectively, it is 'the system of known truths belonging to the same order as a whole, and depending only upon one principle.'
This is founded on the definitions of Aristotle. In the sixth book of the Ethics, chapter iii. he says: 'From this it is evident what science is: to speak accurately, and not to follow mere similitudes; for we all understand that what we know cannot be otherwise than we know it. For whatsoever may or may not be, as a practical question, is not known to be, or not to be.'
Such also is the definition of St. Thomas. He says: 'Whatsoever truths are truly known as by certain knowledge (ut certa scientia) are known by resolution into their first principles, which of themselves are immediately present to the intellect … So that it is impossible that the same thing should be the object both of faith and of science, that is, because of the obscurity of the principles of faith.' He nevertheless calls theology a science. But Vasquez shows from Cajetan that this is to be understood not simply but relatively, non simpliciter, sed secundum quid. The Thomists generally hold theology to be a science; but imperfect in its kind.
Gregory of Valentia sums up the opinions of the Schools, and concludes as follows: 'That theology is not science is taught by Durandus, Ockam, Gabriel, and others, whose opinions I hold to be the truest.' He adds: 'Though it be not a proper science, it is a habit absolutely more perfect than any science;' and again: 'Yet, nevertheless, by the best of rights, it may be called a science, because absolutely it is a habit more perfect than any science described by philosophers.'[10]
Theology then may be called, though improprie, a science. First, because it is a science, if not as to its principles, at least as to its form, method, process, development, and transmission. And secondly, because though its principles are not evident, they are, in all the higher regions of it, infallibly certain; and because many of them are the necessary, eternal, and incorruptible truths, which according to Aristotle, generate science.
If then theology, which in certainty is next to science properly so called, is to be called science only improprie, notwithstanding the infallible certainty and immutable nature of its ultimate principles, how can human history, written by uninspired human authors, transmitted by documents open to corruption, change, and mutilation, without custody or security, except the casual tradition of human testimony and human criticism, open to perversion by infirmity and passion of every kind,—how can such subject-matter yield principles of certainty which excludes contradiction, and ultimate truths immediate to the intellect and evident in themselves?
If by historical science be meant an increased precision in examining evidence and in testing documents, and in comparing narratives together, we will gladly use the word by courtesy; but if more than this be meant, if a claim be set up for history, which is not admitted even for theology, then in the name of truth, both Divine and human, let the pretence be exposed. And yet for many years these pretensions have been steadily advancing. Many people have been partly deceived, and partly intimidated by them. The confident and compassionate tone in which certain writers have treated all who differ from them, has won the reward which often follows upon any signal audacity. But when Catholics once understand that this school among us elevates the certainty of history above the certainty of faith, and appeals from the traditional doctrine of the Church to its own historical science, their instincts will recoil from it as irreconcilable with faith.
There is something happily inimitable in the conceit of the words with which Janus opens his preface:
'The immediate object of this work is to investigate by the light of history those questions which we are credibly informed are to be decided at the Œcumenical Council already announced. And as we have endeavoured to fulfil this task by direct reference to original authorities, it is not, perhaps, too much to hope that our labours will attract attention in scientific circles; and serve as a contribution to ecclesiastical history.'
Janus goes on to say, 'But this work aims also at something more than the mere calm and aimless exhibition of historical events: the reader will readily perceive that it has a far wider scope, and deals with ecclesiastical politics; and in one word, that it is a pleading for very life, an appeal to the thinkers among believing Christians,' &c.[11]
We have here an unconscious confession. 'Janus' is strictly an appeal from the light of faith to the light of history, that is, from the supernatural to the natural order; a process, as I have said again and again, consistent in Protestants and Rationalists: in Catholics, simply heretical.
The direct reference to original authorities is, of course, a prerogative of Janus. Who else but he ever could, or would, or did, refer to the original authorities?
Again, it is a work addressed to scientific circles. Lord Bacon describes a school of philosophers who, when they come abroad, lift their hand in the attitude of benediction, 'with the look of those who pity men.' Is science in the Catholic Church confined to 'circles?' Is it an esoteric perfection which belongs to the favoured and to the few who assemble in chambers and secret places? Our Lord has warned us that the science of God has a wider expanse of light. In truth, this science is a modern Gnosticism, superior to the Church, contemptuous of faith, and profoundly egotistical. It appeals to the thinkers among believing Christians: that is, to the intellectual few among the herd of mere believers.
But finally the truth escapes: the aim of the book is not merely calm and aimless. It deals with ecclesiastical politics; that is, it was an organised, combined, and deliberate attempt to hinder the Vatican Council in its liberty of action, and in the same breath, before the Council had assembled, to deny its Œcumenicity on the ground that it would not be free.
The book concludes as follows:
'That is quite enough—it means this, that whatsoever course the Synod may take, one quality can never be predicated of it, namely, that is has been a really free Council. Theologians and canonists declare that without complete freedom, the decisions of the Council are not binding, and the assembly is only a pseudo-synod.'[12]
This was written in Germany during the summer of last year. The English translation was published by a Protestant bookseller in London in the month of November. I bought the Italian translation in the same month in Florence, on my way to the opening of the Council. French and Spanish bishops told me, on arriving, that they had translations in their own language. And in Spain and Italy copies were sent to the bishops through the channels of those Governments.
We have here the latest example of passionless science.
Of the literary merits of the book, I will only say first, that for its accuracy a fair account has been taken in a pamphlet entitled 'A few Specimens of Scientific History from Janus;' and for profoundness that it is simply shallow, compared with Jewell's 'Defence of the Apology,' Barrow 'On the Pope's Supremacy,' Crakenthorp's 'Vigilius Dormitans,' Bramhall's 'Schism Guarded,' Thorndike's 'Epilogue,' Brown's 'Fasciculus Rerum,' &c., to say nothing of the Magdeburg Centuriators, or even Mosheim's or Gieseler's Histories.
The old Protestant and especially the Anglican anticatholic writers are solid, learned, and ponderous, compared with Janus. They have also the force of visible sincerity. Used against the Church from without, their arguments are consistent and weighty; used by professing Catholics within the unity of the Church, they are powerless in controversy, and heretical in their effects and consequences.
I speak thus plainly, Reverend and dear Brethren, because you are charged with the cure of souls; and in this country, where reading, speaking, writing has no rule or limit, those committed to your charge will be in daily temptation. They cannot close their eyes; and if they could, they cannot close their ears. What they may refuse to read they cannot fail to hear. It is the trial permitted for the purity and confirmation of their faith. By your vigilant care they will be what the Catholics of England, in the judgment often expressed to me in other countries, already are—and I would we were so in the degree in which others believe—that is, firm, fearless, intelligent in faith, and not ashamed to confess it before men. Nevertheless the trial is severe for many. And, as I have said before, the Council will be 'in ruinam et in resurrectionem multorum.' Some who think themselves to stand will fall; and some, of whom we perhaps have no hope, will rise to fill their place. Therefore we must be faithful and fearless for the truth.
The book 'Janus' warns us of two duties. The one, to watch against this Gnostic inflation of scientific conceit which is the animus of heresy; the other, to warn all Catholics that to deny the Œcumenicity or the freedom of the Council which the Vicar of Christ has already confirmed in all its acts hitherto complete, or the obligation imposed upon the faithful by those acts, is implicitly to deny the Infallibility of the Church: and that to doubt, or to propagate doubts, of its Œcumenicity and freedom, or of the obligations of its acts, is at least the first step to that denial.
- ↑ Dialog. cum Tryph. sect. 60, p. 157. Ed. Ben. Paris, 1742.
- ↑ St. John xiv. 28.
- ↑ Appendix, p. 223.
- ↑ Pastoral, &c., 1869, p. 125.
- ↑ Letters from Rome, &c. by Quirinus, second series, p. 348–9.
- ↑ Times, Sept. 22, 1870.
- ↑ Melchior Canus, Loci theol. lib. xi. c. 4.
- ↑ See Appendix, p. 187.
- ↑ 9.0 9.1 Constitutio De Fide Catholica. Appendix, p. 191.
- ↑ Temporal Mission of the Holy Ghost, p. 107–112.
- ↑ The Pope and the Council, by Janus. Preface, p. xiii. London, 1869.
- ↑ Ibid. p. 425.