The Roman Index of Forbidden Books (Betten)/Section I/Chapter 6
6. Duties Imposed by Law and by Nature.
Suppose a person were so well grounded in faith and virtue, so thoroughly versed in theology, philosophy, and the natural sciences, that the reading of books e. g. on Christian Science, or the works of Voltaire, would not harm him. The Index prohibits these books; would he whom they could not harm be allowed to read them? As we put the case, he would, by reading them, not commit the sin of seriously endangering his soul. Yet he would sin by disregarding a positive law of the Church. These laws are like the precautionary measures taken by the civil authorities in times of epidemic; if they are to have the desired effect, they must be observed by all. When the community is under quarantine, those who declare themselves free from the disease must observe the regulations as well as the rest.
Let those who think they have a good reason for reading a forbidden book, and who are not mistaken in supposing that there is no danger for them, humbly ask for permission, as did the Saints. By doing so they declare that the standpoint of the Church is theirs, and that they willingly submit to a power which was entrusted with the care of "teaching to observe whatsoever I have commanded you." "We have to develop a loving habit of loyalty and obedience to the Church as to Christ, our Savior."
Suppose, on the other hand, there were no Church laws prohibiting pernicious reading. In that case should we be allowed to read any book we pleased? By no means. We should then, it is true, by reading, e. g., Zola's novels, not commit an act of disobedience to the Church. But, as already hinted, there is another duty imposed on us by God Himself—the grave duty to guard our soul from serious danger. This duty does not depend on any positive law or decree of authority, and it equally binds the Christian and the non-Christian. It is expressed in the fifth commandment: "Thou shalt not kill." This duty corresponds on our part to what we ask of God in the sixth petition of the Our Father: "Lead us not into temptation." We should undoubtedly violate it by reading Zola's filthy works. The prohibition of these works by the Church merely adds another obligation to that imposed by the natural law, thereby considerably strengthening our will and enabling us to resist every enticement to read what can be read only at a serious risk to our soul.
This grave duty, therefore, is not imposed by the Church and cannot be taken away by the Church. It is a natural duty and as such remains in force even after we are granted a formal permission, which is neither intended nor able to suppress temptations that may arise from the perusal of bad books. If we have a good reason to apply for permission—curiosity is not a good reason then—and then only can we expect a special protection from Divine Providence. Of course, this protection does not dispense us from the necessity of using all the means of self-protection, both natural and supernatural.
I know of a priest who was in every way a model man. He fell suddenly away from the Church, married, and is now a foremost champion in the ranks of the enemy. His apostasy is, not without reason, attributed to the reading of infidel books, though no doubt he had the necessary dispensation.
There was another priest, who has meanwhile died the death of the just, a celebrated author and art critic. In writing a work on Voltaire he had to study the books of that arch-agnostic. He obtained the requisite permission, but, while perusing Voltaire's writings, he was on his knees, to implore, as it were, by this humble posture the protection of God against the wicked influence to which he was exposed.
St. Francis of Sales, the great and learned Bishop of Geneva, had obtained permission to read the books of heretics in order to refute them, and he is careful to let his readers know the fact, at the same time thanking God in pathetic words that his soul had suffered no harm in so great a danger.
This grave natural duty in the choice of our reading matter extends much farther than the legislation of the Church. Parents and priests do not comply with their obligation of controlling the reading of their charges if they merely look up the Index to see whether a certain book is mentioned there. If an otherwise book contains an obscene passage of a page or so, no one will claim that it falls under the general law prohibiting obscene books. Nor is it likely to be put on the Index. Yet such a book is apt to work havoc in the innocent soul of your daughter or son, perhaps in your own. As long as that passage is in it, the book—even though it is not on the Index—cannot and must not, under pain of sin, be allowed in the hands of children.
Would that this twofold duty were always faithfully complied with, especially in our large cities, where books of every sort are within easy reach. Do not many, perhaps all, public libraries offer among other books such as are "derogatory to the Church, the hierarchy, the religious state," and especially novels which "defend as lawful or tolerable, freemasonry, suicide, divorce"? How can we expect our young people to have Catholic views on courtship and marriage, on the priesthood, on the veneration of the saints, if we allow them to imbibe the ideas of such writers as Balzac or Dumas? It is deplorable enough that the modern novel is the catechism of millions outside of the Church. We must not allow it to displace the Catholic catechism or to unteach, totally or in part, the truths taught by it.