// This is a ppgen source file.

// Title      : The provincial letters of Blaise Pascal
// Author     : Pascal, Blaise; M‘Crie, Rev. Thomas, translator/editor
// Project ID : projectID61524e807a9ac

.dt The provincial letters of Blaise Pascal. A new translation with historical introduction and notes. | Project Gutenberg

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<l>THE</l>||<xxl>PROVINCIAL LETTERS</xxl>||<l>OF</l>||<xl>BLAISE PASCAL.</xl>

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A NEW TRANSLATION

<l>WITH HISTORICAL INTRODUCTION AND NOTES,</l>

BY

<xl>THE REV. THOMAS M‘CRIE.</xl>

<s>EDINBURGH.</s>
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If my letters are condemned at Rome, that which I condemn in them is condemned in heaven.—<sc>Pascal.</sc>
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<xl>NEW YORK:</xl>
<l>ROBERT CARTER & BROTHERS</l>
No. 530 BROADWAY.
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1856.

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CONTENTS.

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| PAGE
#<sc>Preface</sc>,:Page_vii# | vii
|
#<sc>Historical Introduction</sc>,:Page_ix# | ix
|
<al=c>#LETTER I.:Page_63# | <span>
Disputes in the Sorbonne, and the invention of proximate power—a term employed by the Jesuits to procure the censure of M. Arnauld, | 63
|
<al=c>#LETTER II.:Page_76# | <span>
Of sufficient grace, which turns out to be not sufficient—Concert between the Jesuits and the Dominicans—A parable, | 76
|
#Reply of “the Provincial” to the first two Letters,:Page_88# | 88
|
<al=c>#LETTER III.:Page_90# | <span>
Injustice, absurdity, and nullity of the censure on M. Arnauld—A personal heresy, | 90
|
<al=c>#LETTER IV.:Page_100# | <span>
Actual grace and sins of ignorance—Father Bauny’s Summary of sins, | 100
|
<al=c>#LETTER V.:Page_116# | <span>
Design of the Jesuits in establishing a new system of morals—Two sorts of casuists among them—A great many lax and some severe ones—Reason of this difference—Explanation of the doctrine of probabilism—A multitude of modern and unknown authors substituted in the place of the holy fathers—Escobar, | 116
|
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<al=c>#LETTER VI.:Page_135# | <span>
Various artifices of the Jesuits to elude the authority of the gospel, of councils, and of the popes—Some consequences resulting from their doctrine of probability—Their relaxations in favor of beneficiaries, of priests, of monks, and of domestics—Story of John d’Alba, | 135
|
<al=c>#LETTER VII.:Page_152# | <span>
Method of directing the intention adopted by the casuists—Permission to kill in defence of honor and property, extended even to priests and monks—Curious question raised as to whether Jesuits may be allowed to kill Jansenists, | 152
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<al=c>#LETTER VIII.:Page_170# | <span>
Corrupt maxims of the casuists relating to judges—Usurers—The Contract Mohatra—Bankrupts—Restitution—Divers ridiculous notions of these same casuists, | 170
|
<al=c>#LETTER IX.:Page_188# | <span>
False worship of the Virgin introduced by the Jesuits—Devotion made easy—Their maxims on ambition, envy, gluttony, equivocation, mental reservations, female dress, gaming, and hearing mass, | 188
|
<al=c>#LETTER X.:Page_206# | <span>
Palliatives applied by the Jesuits to the sacrament of penance, in their maxims regarding confession, satisfaction, absolution, proximate occasions of sin, and love to God, | 206
|
<al=c>#LETTER XI.:Page_225# | <span>
The Letters vindicated from the charge of profaneness—Ridicule a fair weapon, when employed against absurd opinions—Rules to be observed in the use of this weapon—Charitableness and discretion of the Provincial Letters—Specimens of genuine profaneness in the writings of Jesuits, | 225
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<al=c>#LETTER XII.:Page_243# | <span>
The quirks and chicaneries of the Jesuits on the subjects of alms-giving and simony, | 243
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<al=c>#LETTER XIII.:Page_260# | <span>
Fidelity of Pascal’s quotations—Speculative murder—Killing for slander—Fear of the consequences—The policy of Jesuitism, | 260
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<al=c>#LETTER XIV.:Page_277# | <span>
On murder—The Scriptures on murder—Lessius, Molina, and Layman on murder—Christian and Jesuitical legislation contrasted, | 277
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<al=c>#LETTER XV.:Page_295# | <span>
On calumny—M. Puys and Father Alby—An odd heresy—Barefaced denials—Flat contradictions and vague insinuations employed by the Jesuits—The Capuchin’s <lang=la><i>Mentiris impudentissime</i></lang>, | 295
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<al=c>#LETTER XVI.:Page_314# | <span>
Calumnies against Port-Royal—Port-Royalists no heretics—M. de St. Cyran and M. Arnauld vindicated—Slanders against the nuns of Port-Royal—Miracle of the holy thorn—No impunity for slanderers—Excuse for a long letter, | 314
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<al=c>#LETTER XVII.:Page_341# | <span>
The author of the Letters vindicated from the charge of heresy—The five propositions—The popes fallible in matters of fact—Persecution of the Jansenists—The grand object of the Jesuits, | 341
|
<al=c>#LETTER XVIII.:Page_366# | <span>
The sense of Jansenius not the sense of Calvin—Resistibility of grace—Jansenius no heretic—The popes may be surprised—Testimony of the senses—Condemnation of Galileo—Conclusion, | 366
|
<al=c>#LETTER XIX.:Page_391# | <span>
Fragment of a nineteenth Provincial Letter, addressed to Père Annat, | 391
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THE TRANSLATOR’S PREFACE.

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The following translation of the Provincial Letters was undertaken
several years ago, in compliance with the suggestion of a revered parent,
chiefly as a literary recreation in a retired country charge, and,
after being finished, was laid aside. It is now published at the request
of friends, who considered such a work as peculiarly seasonable, and
more likely to be acceptable at the present crisis, when general attention
has been again directed to the popish controversy, and when such
strenuous exertions are being made by the Jesuits to regain influence
in our country.

None are strangers to the fame of the Provincials, and few literary
persons would choose to confess themselves altogether ignorant of a
work which has acquired a world-wide reputation. Yet there is reason
to suspect that few books of the same acknowledged merit have had a
more limited circle of <lang=la><i>bona fide</i></lang> English readers. This may be ascribed,
in a great measure, to the want of a good English translation. Two
translations of the Provincials have already appeared in our language.
The first was contemporary with the Letters themselves, and was printed
at London in 1657, under the title of “<lang=fr><i>Les Provinciales</i></lang>; or, The Mysterie
of Jesuitism, discovered in certain Letters, written upon occasion
of the present differences at Sorbonne, between the Jansenists and the
Molinists, from January 1656 to March 1657, S. N. Displaying the
corrupt Maximes and Politicks of that Society. Faithfully rendered
into English. <lang=la><i>Sicut Serpentes.</i></lang>” Of the translation under this unpromising
title, it may only be remarked, that it is probably one of the worst
specimens of “rendering into English” to be met with, even during that
age when little attention was paid to the art of translation. Under its
uncouth phraseology, not only are the wit and spirit of the original
completely shrouded, but the meaning is so disguised that the work is
almost as unintelligible as it is uninteresting.

Another translation of the Letters—of which I was not aware till I
had completed mine—was published in London in 1816. On discovering
that a new attempt had been made to put the English public in
possession of the Provincials, and that it had failed to excite any general
interest, I was induced to lay aside all thoughts of publishing my
version; but, after examining the modern translation, I became convinced
that its failure might be ascribed to other causes than want of
taste among us for the beauties and excellences of Pascal. This translation,
though written in good English, bears evident marks of haste, and
of want of acquaintance with the religious controversies of the time;
in consequence of which, the sense and spirit of the original have been
either entirely lost, or so imperfectly developed, as to render its perusal
exceedingly tantalizing and unsatisfactory.
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It remains for the public to judge how far the present version may
have succeeded in giving a more readable and faithful transcript of the
Provincial Letters. No pains, at least, have been spared to enhance its
interest and insure its fidelity. Among the numerous French editions
of the Letters, the basis of the following translation is that of Amsterdam,
published in four volumes 12mo, 1767; with the notes of Nicole,
and his prefatory History of the Provincials, which were translated
from the Latin into French by Mademoiselle de Joncourt. With this
and other French editions I have compared Nicole’s Latin translation,
which appeared in 1658, and received the sanction of Pascal.

The voluminous notes of Nicole, however interesting they may have
been at the time, and to the parties involved in the Jansenist controversy,
are not, in general, of such a kind as to invite attention now;
nor would a full translation even of his historical details, turning as
they do chiefly on local and temporary disputes, be likely to reward the
patience of the reader. So far as they were fitted to throw light on
the original text, I have availed myself of these, along with other
sources of information, in the marginal notes. Some of these annotations,
as might be expected from a Protestant editor, are intended to
correct error, or to guard against misconception.

To the full understanding of the Provincials, however, some idea of
the controversies which occasioned their publication seems almost indispensable.
This I have attempted to furnish in the Historical Introduction;
which will also be found to contain some interesting facts,
hitherto uncollected, and borrowed from a variety of authorities not
generally accessible, illustrating the history of the Letters, and the parties
concerned in them, with a vindication of Pascal from the charges
which this work has provoked from so many quarters against him.
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<xl>HISTORICAL INTRODUCTION</xl>||<s>TO</s>||<xl>THE PROVINCIAL LETTERS.</xl>||<l>BY THE TRANSLATOR.</l>

The Church of Rome, notwithstanding her pretensions to
infallibility, has been fully as prolific in theological controversy
and intestine discord as any of the Reformed Churches.
She has contrived, indeed, with singular policy, to preserve,
amidst all her variations, the semblance of unity. Protestantism,
like the primitive Church, suffered its dissentients to
fly off into hostile or independent communions. The Papacy,
on the contrary, has managed to retain hers within the outward
pale of her fellowship, by the institution of various
religious orders, which have served as safety-valves for exuberant
zeal, and which, though often hostile to each other,
have remained attached to the mother Church, and even
proved her most efficient supporters. Still, at different times,
storms have arisen within the Romish Church, which could
be quelled neither by the infallibility of popes nor the authority
of councils. It is doubtful if religious controversy ever
raged with so much violence in the Reformed Church, as it
did between the Thomists and the Scotists, the Dominicans
and Franciscans, the Jesuits and the Jansenists, of the Church
of Rome.

Uninviting as they may now appear, the disputes about
grace, in which the last mentioned parties were involved, gave
occasion to the Provincial Letters. The origin of these disputes
must be traced as far back as the days of Augustine
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and the Pelagian controversy of the fifth century. The motto
of Pelagius was free-will; that of Augustine was efficacious
grace. The former held that, notwithstanding the fall, the
human will was perfectly free to choose at any time between
good and evil; the latter, that in consequence of the fall,
the will is in a state of moral bondage, from which it can
only be freed by divine grace. With the British monk,
election is suspended on the decision of man’s will; human
nature is still as pure as it came originally from the hands of
the Creator: Christ died equally for all men; and, as the
result of his death, a general grace is granted to all mankind,
which any may comply with, but which all may finally forfeit.
With the African bishop, election is absolute—we are
predestinated, not from foreseen holiness, but that we might
be holy;[1] all men are lying under the guilt or penal obligation
of the first sin, and in a state of spiritual helplessness and
corruption; the sacrifice of Christ was, in point of destination,
offered for the elect, though, in point of exhibition, it is
offered to all; and the saints obtain the gift of perseverance
in holiness to the end.[2]

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Non quia per nos sancti et immaculati futuri essemus, sed elegit
prædestinavitque ut essemus. (De Prædest., Aug. Op., tom. x. 815.)
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De dono Persever. (Ib., 822.)
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Pelagius, whose real name was Morgan, and who is supposed
to have been a Welshman, belonged to that numerous
class of thinkers, who, from their peculiar idiosyncrasy, are
apt to start at the sovereignty of divine grace, developed
in the plan of redemption, as if it struck at once at the equity
of God and the responsibility of man. He is said to have
betrayed his heretical leanings, for the first time, by publicly
expressing his disapprobation of a sentiment of Augustine,
which he heard quoted by a bishop “<lang=la><i>Da quod jubes, et
jube quod vis</i></lang>—Give, Lord, what thou biddest, and bid what
thou wilt.” It would be easy to show that, in recoiling from
the odious picture of the orthodox doctrine, drawn by his
own fancy, he fell into the very consequences which he was
so eager to avoid. The deity of Pelagius being subjected
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to the changeable will of the creature, all things were left to
the direction of blind chance or unthinking destiny; while
man, being represented as created with concupiscence, to
account for his aberrations from rectitude—in other words,
with a constitution in which the seeds of evil were implanted—the
authorship of sin was ascribed, directly and primarily,
to the Creator.[3]

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Neander, Bibl. Repos., iii. 94; Leydecker, de Jansen. Dogm., 413.
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Augustine was a powerful but unsteady writer, and has
expressed himself so inconsistently as to have divided the
opinions of the Latin Church, where he was recognized as a
standard, canonized as a saint, and revered under the title
of “The Doctor of Grace.” On the great doctrine of salvation
by grace, he is scriptural and evangelical; and hence he
has been frequently quoted with admiration by our Reformed
divines, partly to evince the declension of Rome from the
faith of the earlier fathers, partly from that veneration for
antiquity, which induces us to bestow more notice on the
ivy-mantled ruin, than on the more graceful and commodious
modern edifice in its vicinity. When arguing against Pelagianism,
Augustine is strong in the panoply of Scripture; when
developing his own system, he fails to do justice either to
Scripture or to himself. Loud, and even fierce, for the entire
corruption of human nature, he spoils all by admitting the
absurd dogma of baptismal regeneration. Chivalrous in the
defence of grace, as opposed to free-will, he virtually abandons
the field to the enemy, by teaching that we are justified
by our works of evangelical obedience, and that the faith
which justifies includes in its nature all the offices of Christian
charity.

During the dark ages, the Church of Rome, professing the
highest veneration for St. Augustine, had ceased to hold the
Augustinian theology. The Dominicans, indeed, yielded a
vague allegiance to it, by adhering to the views of Thomas
Aquinas, “the angelic doctor” of the schools, from whom
they were termed Thomists; while the Franciscans, who opposed
them, under the auspices of Duns Scotus, from whom
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they were termed Scotists, leaned to the views of Pelagius.
The Scotists, like the modern advocates of free-will, inveighed
against their opponents as fatalists, and charged them with
making God the author of sin; the Thomists, again, retorted
on the Scotists, by accusing them of annihilating the grace
of God. But the doctrines of grace had sunk out of view,
under a mass of penances, oblations, and intercessions, founded
on the assumption of human merit, and on that very confusion
of the forensic change in justification with the moral
change in sanctification, in which Augustine had unhappily
led the way. At length the Reformation appeared; and as
both Luther and Calvin appealed to the authority of Augustine,
when treating of grace and free-will, the Romish divines,
in their zeal against the Reformers, became still more decidedly
Pelagian. In the Council of Trent, the admirers of
Augustine durst hardly show themselves; the Jesuits carried
everything before them; and the anathemas of that synod,
which were aimed at Calvin fully as much as Luther, though
they professed to condemn only the less guarded statements
of the German reformer, were all in favor of Pelagius.

The controversy was revived in the Latin Church, about
the close of the sixteenth century, both in the Low Countries
and in Spain. In 1588, Lewis Molina, a Spanish Jesuit,
published lectures on “The Concord of Grace and Free-Will;”
and this work, filled with the jargon of the schools,
gave rise to disputes which continued to agitate the Church
during the whole of the succeeding century. Molina conceived
that he had discovered a method of reconciling the
divine purposes with the freedom of the human will, which
would settle the question forever. According to his theory,
God not only foresaw from eternity all things possible, by a
foresight of intelligence, and all things future by a foresight
of vision; but by another kind of foresight, intermediate between
these two, which he termed <lang=la><i>scientia media</i></lang>, or middle
knowledge, he foresaw what <em>might</em> have happened under
certain circumstances or conditions, though it never may take
place. All men, according to Molina, are favored with a
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general grace, sufficient to work out their salvation, if they
choose to improve it; but when God designs to convert a
sinner, he vouchsafes that measure of grace which he foresees,
according to the middle knowledge, or in all the circumstances
of the case, the person will comply with. The
honor of this discovery was disputed by another Jesuit, Peter
Fonseca, who declared that the very same thing had burst
upon his mind with all the force of inspiration, when lecturing
on the subject some years before.[4]

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The question of the middle knowledge is learnedly handled by
Voetius (Disp. Theol., i. 264), by Hoornbeck (Socin. Confut.), and
other Protestant divines, who have shown it to be untenable, useless,
and fraught with absurdity.
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Abstruse as these questions may appear, they threatened
a serious rupture in the Romish Church. The Molinists were
summoned to Rome in 1598, to answer the charges of the
Dominicans; and after some years of deliberation, Pope
Clement VIII. decided against Molina. The Jesuits, however,
alarmed for the credit of their order, never rested till
they prevailed on the old pontiff to re-examine the matter;
and in 1602, he appointed a grand council of cardinals, bishops,
and divines, who convened for discussion no less than
seventy-eight times. This council was called <lang=la><i>Congregatio de
Auxiliis</i></lang>, or council on the aids of grace. Its records being
kept secret, the result of their collective wisdom was not
known with certainty, and has been lost to the world.[5] The
probability is, that like Milton’s “grand infernal peers,” who
reasoned high on similar points,

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“They found no end, in wandering mazes lost.”
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Those who appealed to them for the settlement of the question,
had too much reason to say, as the man in Terence does
to his lawyers—“<lang=la><i>Fecistis probe; incertior sum multo quam
dudum.</i></lang>”[6]

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Dupin, Eccl. Hist., 17th cent. 1–14.
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“Well done, gentlemen; you have left me more in the dark than
ever.”
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But this interminable dispute was destined to assume a
more popular form, and lead to more practical results. In
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1604, two young men entered, as fellow-students, the university
of Louvain, which had been distinguished for its hostility
to Molinism. Widely differing in natural temperament
as well as outward rank, Cornelius Jansen, who was afterwards
bishop of Ypres, and John Duverger de Hauranne, afterwards
known as the Abbé de St. Cyran, formed an acquaintance
which soon ripened into friendship. They began to study
together the works of Augustine, and to compare them with
the Scriptures. The immediate result was, an agreement in
opinion that the ancient father was in the right, and that the
Jesuits, and other followers of Molina, were in the wrong.
This was followed by an ardent desire to revive the doctrines
of their favorite doctor—a task which each of them prosecuted
in the way most suited to his respective character.

Jansen, or Jansenius, as he is often called,[7] was descended
of humble parentage, and born October 28, 1585, in a village
near Leerdam, in Holland. By his friends he is extolled for
his penetrating genius, tenacious memory, magnanimity, and
piety. Taciturn and contemplative in his habits, he was
frequently overheard, when taking his solitary walks in the
garden of the monastery, to exclaim: “<lang=la><i>O veritas! veritas!</i></lang>—O
truth! truth!” Keen in controversy, ascetic in devotion,
and rigid in his Catholicism, his antipathies were about
equally divided between heretics and Jesuits. Towards the
Protestants, his acrimony was probably augmented by the
consciousness of having embraced views which might expose
himself to the suspicion of heresy; or, still more probably,
by that uneasy feeling with which we cannot help regarding
those who, holding the same doctrinal views with ourselves,
may have made a more decided and consistent profession of
them. The first supposition derives countenance from the
private correspondence between him and his friend St. Cyran,
which shows some dread of persecution;[8] the second is confirmed
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by his acknowledged writings. He speaks of Protestants
as no better than Turks, and gives it as his opinion that
“they had much more reason to congratulate themselves on
the mercy of princes, than to complain of their severities,
which, as the vilest of heretics, they richly deserved.”[9] His
controversy with the learned Gilbert Voet led the latter to
publish his <cite>Desperata Causa Papatus</cite>, one of the best exposures
of the weaknesses of Popery. When to this we add
that the Calvinistic synod of Dort, in 1618, had condemned
Arminius and the Dutch Remonstrants as having fallen into
the errors of Pelagius and Molina, the position of Jansen
became still more complicated. Of Arminius he could not
approve, without condemning Augustine; with the Protestant
synod he could not agree, unless he chose to be denounced
as a Calvinist.

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He was the son of a poor artisan, whose name was Jan, or John
Ottho; hence Jansen, corresponding to our Johnson, which was Latinized
into Jansenius.
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.pm fns 8
Petitot, Collect. des Mémoires, Notice sur Port-Royal, tom. xxxiii.,
p. 19. This author’s attempt to fix the charge of a conspiracy between
Jansen and St. Cyran to overturn the Church, is a piece of special
pleading, bearing on its face its own refutation.
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.pm fns 9
The followers of Jansen were not more charitable than he in their
judgments of the Reformed, and showed an equal zeal with the Jesuits
to persecute them, when they had it in their power. (Benoit, Hist. de
l’Edit de Nantes, iii. 200.)
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But the natural enemies of Jansen were, without doubt, the
Jesuits. To the history of this Society we can only now advert
in a very cursory manner. It may appear surprising
that an order so powerful and politic should have owed its
origin to such a person as Ignatius Loyola, a Spanish soldier:
and that a wound in the leg, which this hidalgo received at
the battle of Pampeluna, should have issued in his becoming
the founder of a Society which has embroiled the world and
the Church. But in fact, Loyola, though the originator of
the sect, is not entitled to the honor, or rather the disgrace,
of organizing its constitution. This must be assigned to Laynez
and Aquaviva, the two generals who succeeded him—men
as superior to the founder of the Society in talents as he
excelled them in enthusiasm. Ignatius owed his success to
circumstances. While he was watching his arms as the
knight-errant of the Virgin, in her chapel at Montserrat, or
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squatting within his cell in a state of body too noisome for
human contact, and of mind verging on insanity, Luther was
making Germany ring with the first trumpet-notes of the Reformation.
The monasteries, in which ignorance had so long
slumbered in the lap of superstition, were awakened; but
their inmates were totally unfit for doing battle on the new
field of strife that had opened around them. Unwittingly, in
the heat of his fanaticism, the illiterate Loyola suggested a
line of policy which, matured by wiser heads, proved more
adapted to the times. Bred in the court and the camp, he
contrived to combine the finesse of the one, and the discipline
of the other, with the sanctity of a religious community; and
proposed that, instead of the lazy routine of monastic life,
his followers should actively devote themselves to the education
of youth, the conversion of the heathen, and the suppression
of heresy. Such a proposal, backed by a vow of
devotion to the Holy See, commended itself to the pope so
highly that, in 1540, he confirmed the institution by a bull,
granted it ample privileges, and appointed Loyola to be its
first general. In less than a century, this sect, which assumed
to itself, with singular arrogance, the name of “The
Society of Jesus,” rose to be the most enterprising and formidable
order in the Romish communion.

Never was the name of the blessed Jesus more grossly
prostituted than when applied to a Society which is certainly
the very opposite, in spirit and character, to Him who was
“meek and lowly,” “holy, harmless, undefiled, and separate
from sinners.” The Jesuits may be said to have invented,
for their own peculiar use, an entirely new system of ethics.
In place of the divine law, they prescribed, as the rule of
their conduct, a “blind obedience” to the will of their superiors,
whom they are bound to recognize as “standing in the
place of God,” and in fulfilling whose orders they are to have
no more will of their own “than a corpse, or an old man’s
staff.” The glory of God they identify with the aggrandizement
of their Society; and holding that “the end sanctifies
the means,” they scruple at no means, foul or fair, which they
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conceive may advance such an end.[10] The supreme power is
vested in the general, who is not responsible to any other authority,
civil or ecclesiastical. A system of mutual espionage,
and a secret correspondence with head-quarters at Rome, in
which everything that can, in the remotest degree, affect the
interests of the Society is made known, and by means of
which the whole machinery of Jesuitism can be set in motion
at once, or its minutest feelers directed to any object at pleasure,
presents the most complete system of organization in the
world. Every member is sworn, by secret oath, to obey the
orders, and all are confederated in a solemn league to advance
the cause of the Society. It has been defined to be “a naked
sword, the hilt of which is at Rome.” Such a monstrous
combination could not fail to render itself obnoxious. Constantly
aiming at ascendency in the Church, in which it is an
<lang=la><i>imperium in imperio</i></lang>, the Society has not only been embroiled
in perpetual feuds with the other orders, but has repeatedly
provoked the thunders of the Vatican. Ever intermeddling
with the affairs of civil governments, with allegiance
to which, under any form, its principles are utterly at variance,
it has been expelled in turn from almost every European
State, as a political nuisance. But Jesuitism is the very
soul of Popery; both have revived or declined together; and
accordingly, though the order was abolished by Clement
XIV. in 1775, it was found necessary to resuscitate it under
Pius VII. in 1814; and the Society was never in greater
power, nor more active operation, than it is at the present
moment. It boasts of immortality, and, in all probability, it
will last as long as the Church of Rome. It has been termed
“a militia called out to combat the Reformation,” and exhibiting,
as it does to this day, the same features of ambition,
treachery, and intolerance, it seems destined to fall only in
.bn 018.png
.pn +1
the ruins of that Church of whose unchanging spirit it is the
genuine type and representative.[11]

.pm fns 10
<lang=la><i>Cæca quadam obedientia.—Ut Christum Dominum in superiore
quolibet agnoscere studeatis.—Perinde ac si cadaver essent, vel similiter
atque senis baculus.—Ad majorem Dei gloriam.</i></lang> (Constit. Jesuit. pars
vi. cap. 1; Ignat. Epist., &c.)
.pm fne

.pm fns 11
Balde, whom the Jesuits honor in their schools as a modern Horace,
thus celebrates the longevity of the Society, in his <cite>Carmen Seculare de
Societate Jesu</cite>, 1640:—

.nf b
“Profuit quisquis voluit nocere.
 Cuncta subsident sociis; ubique
 Exules vivunt, et ubique cives!
 Sternimus victi, supreamus imi,
   Surgimus plures toties cadendo.”
.nf-

.pm fne

In prosecuting the ends of their institution, the Jesuits
have adhered with singular fidelity to its distinguishing spirit.
As the instructors of youth, their solicitude has ever been
less to enlarge the sphere of human knowledge than to bar
out what might prove dangerous to clerical domination; they
have confined their pupils to mere literary studies, which
might amuse without awakening their minds, and make them
subtle dialecticians without disturbing a single prejudice of
the dark ages. As missionaries, they have been much more
industrious and successful in the manual labor of baptizing
all nations than in teaching them the Gospel.[12] As theologians,
they have uniformly preferred the views of Molina; regarding
these, if not as more agreeable to Scripture and right
reason, at least (to use the language of a late writer) as
“more consonant with the common sense and natural feelings
of mankind.”[13] As controversialists, they were the decided
foes of all reform and all reformers, from within or without
the Church. As moralists, they cultivated, as might be expected,
the loosest system of casuistry, to qualify themselves
for directing the consciences of high and low, and becoming,
through the confessional, the virtual governors of mankind.
In all these departments they have, doubtless, produced men
of abilities; but the very means which they employed to aggrandize
.bn 019.png
.pn +1
the Society have tended to dwarf the intellectual
growth of its individual members: and hence, while it is true
that “the Jesuits had to boast of the most vigorous controversialists,
the most polite scholars, the most refined courtiers,
and the most flexible casuists of their age,”[14] it has been
commonly remarked, that they have never produced a single
great man.

.pm fns 12
Their famous missionary, Francis Xavier, whom they canonized,
was ignorant of a single word in the languages of the Indians whom
he professed to evangelize. He employed a hand-bell to summon the
natives around him; and the poor savages, mistaking him for one of
their learned Brahmans, he baptized them until his arm was exhausted
with the task, and boasted of every one he baptized as a regenerated
convert!
.pm fne

.pm fns 13
Macintosh, Hist. of England, ii. 353.
.pm fne

.pm fns 14
Macintosh, Hist. of England, ii. 357.
.pm fne

Casuistry, the art in which the Jesuits so much excelled,
is, strictly speaking, that branch of theology which treats of
cases of conscience, and originally consisted in nothing more
than an application of the general precepts of Scripture to
particular cases. The ancient casuists, so long as they confined
themselves to the simple rules of the Gospel, were at
least harmless, and their ingenious writings are still found
useful in cases of ecclesiastical discipline; but they gradually
introduced into the science of morals the metaphysical
jargon of the schools, and instead of aiming at making men
moral, contented themselves with disputing about morality.[15]
The main source of the aberrations of casuistry lay in the
unscriptural dogma of priestly absolution—in the right
claimed by man to forgive <em>sin</em>, as a transgression of the law
of God; and the arbitrary distinction between sins as venial
and mortal—a distinction which assigns to the priest the prerogative,
and imposes on him the obligation, of drawing the
critical line, or fixing a kind of tariff on human actions, and
apportioning penance or pardon, as the case may seem to require.
In their desperate attempt to define the endless forms
of depravity on which they were called to adjudicate, or
which the pruriency of the cloister suggested to the imagination,
the casuists sank deeper into the mire at every step;
and their productions, at length, resembled the common sewers
of a city, which, when exposed, become more pestiferous
.bn 020.png
.pn +1
than the filth which they were meant to remove. Even under
the best management, such a system was radically bad;
in the hands of the Jesuits it became unspeakably worse.
To their “modern casuists,” as they were termed, must we
ascribe the invention of <em>probabilism</em>, <em>mental reservation</em>, and
the <em>direction of the intention</em>, which have been sufficiently explained
and rebuked in the Provincial Letters. We shall
only remark here, that the actions to which these principles
were applied were not only such as have been termed indifferent,
and the criminality of which may be doubtful, or dependent
on the intention of the actor: the probabilism of the
Jesuits was, in fact, a systematic attempt to legalize crime,
under the sanction of some grave doctor, who had found out
some excuse for it; and their theory of mental reservations,
and direction of the intention, was equally employed to sanctify
the plainest violations of the divine law. Casuistry, it is
true, has generally vibrated betwixt the extremes of impracticable
severity and contemptible indulgence; but the charge
against the Jesuits was, not that they softened the rigors of
ascetic virtue, but that they propagated principles which
sapped the foundation of all moral obligation. “They are a
people,” said Boileau, “who lengthen the creed and shorten
the decalogue.”

.pm fns 15
Augustine himself is chargeable with having been the first to introduce
the scholastic mode of treating morality in the form of trifling
questions, more fitted to gratify curiosity, and display acumen, than to
edify or enlighten. His example was followed and miserably abused,
by the moralists of succeeding ages. (Buddei Isagoge, vol. i. p. 568.)
.pm fne

Such was the community with which the Bishop of Ypres
ventured to enter the lists. Already had he incurred their
resentment by opposing their interests in some political negotiations;
and by publishing his “Mars Gallicus,” he had
mortally offended their patron, Cardinal Richelieu; but,
strange to say, his deadly sin against the Society was a posthumous
work. Jansen was cut off by the plague, May 8,
1638. Shortly after his decease, his celebrated work, entitled
“Augustinus,” was published by his friends Fromond
and Calen, to whom he had committed it on his death-bed.
To the preparation of this work he may be said to have devoted
his life. It occupied him twenty-two years, during
which, we are told, he had ten times read through the works
of Augustine (ten volumes, folio!) and thirty times collated
.bn 021.png
.pn +1
those passages which related to Pelagianism.[16] The book itself,
as the title imports, was little more than a digest of the
writings of Augustine on the subject of grace.[17] It was divided
into three parts; the first being a refutation of Pelagianism,
the second demonstrating the spiritual disease of man,
and the third exhibiting the remedy provided. The sincerity
of Jansen’s love to truth is beyond question, though we may
be permitted to question the form in which it was evinced.
The radical defect of the work is, that instead of resorting to
the living fountain of inspiration, he confined himself to the
cistern of tradition. Enamored with the excellences of Augustine,
he adopted even his inconsistencies. With the former
he challenged the Jesuits; with the latter he warded off
the charge of heresy. As a controvertist, he is chargeable
with prejudice, rather than dishonesty. As a reformer, he
wanted the independence of mind necessary to success. Instead
of standing boldly forward on the ground of Scripture,
he attempted, with more prudence than wisdom, to shelter
himself behind the venerable name of Augustine.

.pm fns 16
Lancelot. Tour to Alet, p. 173; Leydecker, p. 122.
.pm fne

.pm fns 17
The whole title was: “Augustinus Cornelii Jansenii episcopi, seu
doctrina sancti Augustini de humanæ naturæ sanctitate ægritudinæ
medica, adversus Pelagianos et Massilienses.” Louvain, 1640.
.pm fne

If by thus preferring the shield of tradition to the sword
of the Spirit, Jansen expected to out-manœuvre the Jesuits,
he had mistaken his policy. “Augustinus,” though professedly
written to revive the doctrine of Augustine, was felt by
the Society as, in reality, an attack upon them, under the
name of Pelagians. To conscious delinquency, the language
of implied censure is ever more galling than formal impeachment.
Jansen’s portrait of Augustine was but too faithfully
executed; and the disciples of Loyola could not fail to see
how far they had departed from the faith of the ancient
Church; but the discovery only served to incense them at
the man who had exhibited their defection before the world.
The approbation which the book received from forty learned
doctors, and the rapture with which it was welcomed by the
.bn 022.png
.pn +1
friends of the author, only added to their exasperation. The
whole efforts of the Society were summoned to defeat its
influence. Balked by the hand of death of their revenge on
the person of the author, they vented it even on his remains.
By a decree of the pope, procured through their instigation,
a splendid monument, which had been erected over the grave
of the learned and much-loved bishop, was completely demolished,
that, in the words of his Holiness, “the memory
of Jansen might perish from the earth.” It is even said that
his body was torn from its resting-place, and thrown into
some unknown receptacle.[18] His literary remains were no less
severely handled. Nicholas Cornet, a member of the Society,
after incredible pains, extracted the heretical poison of “Augustinus,”
in the form of seven propositions, which were afterwards
reduced to five. These having been submitted to the
judgment of Innocent X., were condemned by that pontiff in
a bull dated 31st May, 1653. This decision, so far from restoring
peace, awakened a new controversy. The Jansenists,
as the admirers of Jansen now began to be named by their
opponents, while they professed acquiescence in the judgment
of the pope, denied that these propositions were to be found
in “Augustinus.” The succeeding pope, Alexander VII.,
who was still more favorable to the Jesuits, declared formally,
in a bull dated 1657, “that the five propositions were certainly
taken from the book of Jansenius, and had been condemned
in the sense of that author.” But the Jansenists
were ready to meet him on this point; they replied, that a
decision of this kind overstepped the limits of papal authority,
and that the pope’s infallibility did not extend to a judgment
of facts.[19]

.pm fns 18
Leydecker, p. 132; Lancelot, p. 180.
.pm fne

.pm fns 19
Ranke, Hist. of the Popes, vol. iii. 143; Abbé Du Mas, Hist. des
Cinq Propositions, p. 48.
.pm fne

The reader may be curious to know something more about
these famous five propositions, condemned by the pope, which,
in fact, may be said to have given occasion to the Provincial
Letters. They were as follows:—
.bn 023.png
.pn +1

1. There are divine precepts which good men, though willing,
are absolutely unable to obey.

2. No person, in this corrupt state of nature, can resist the
influence of divine grace.

3. In order to render human actions meritorious, or otherwise,
it is not requisite that they be exempt from necessity,
but only free from constraint.

4. The semi-Pelagian heresy consisted in allowing the human
will to be endued with a power of resisting grace, or of
complying with its influence.

5. Whoever says that Christ died or shed his blood for all
mankind, is a semi-Pelagian.

The Jansenists, in their subsequent disputes on these propositions,
contended that they were ambiguously expressed,
and that they might be understood in three different senses—a
Calvinistic, a Pelagian, and a Catholic or Augustinian
sense. In the first two senses they disclaimed them, in the
last they approved and defended them. Owing to the extreme
aversion of the party to Calvinism, while they substantially
held the same system under the name of Augustinianism,
it becomes extremely difficult to convey an intelligible
idea of their theological views. On the first proposition, for
example, while they disclaimed what they term the Calvinistic
sense, namely, that the best of men are liable to sin in all
that they do, they equally disclaim the Pelagian sentiment,
that all men have a general sufficient grace, at all times, for
the discharge of duty, subject to free will; and they strenuously
maintained that, without efficacious grace, constantly
vouchsafed, we can do nothing spiritually good. In regard
to the resistibility of grace, they seem to have held that the
will of man might always resist the influence of grace, if it
chose to do so; but that grace would effectually prevent it
from so choosing. And with respect to redemption, they appear
to have compromised the matter, by holding that Christ
died for all, so as that all might be partakers of the grace of
justification by the merits of his death; but they denied that
.bn 024.png
.pn +1
Christ died for each man in particular, so as to secure his
final salvation; in this sense, he died for the elect only.

Were this the proper place, it would be easy to show that,
in the leading points of his theology, Jansen did not differ
from Calvin, so much as he misunderstood Calvinism. The
Calvinists, for example, never held, as they are represented
in the Provincial Letters,[20] “that we have not the power of
resisting grace.” So far from this, they held that fallen man
could not but resist the grace of God. They preferred, therefore,
the term “invincible,” as applied to grace. In short,
they held exactly the <lang=la><i>victrix delectatio</i></lang> of Augustine, by which
the will of man is sweetly but effectually inclined to comply
with the will of God.[21] On the subject of necessity and constraint
their views are precisely similar. Nor can they be
considered as differing essentially in their views of the death
of Christ, as these, at least, were given by Jansen, who acknowledges
in his “Augustinus,” that, “according to St.
Augustine, Jesus Christ did not die for all mankind.” It is
certain that neither Augustine nor Jansen would have subscribed
to the views of grace and redemption held by many
who, in our day, profess evangelical views. Making allowance
for the different position of the parties, it is very plain
that the dispute between Augustine and Pelagius, Jansen
and Molina, Calvin and Arminius, was substantially one and
the same. At the same time, it must be granted that on the
great point of justification by faith, Jansen went widely
astray from the truth; and in the subsequent controversial
writings of the party, especially when arguing against the
Protestants, this departure became still more strongly marked,
and more deplorably manifested.[22]

.pm fns 20
Letter xviii. pp. 310–313.
.pm fne

.pm fns 21
Witsii Œconom. Fœd., lib. iii.; Turret. Theol., Elenct. xv. quest.
4; De Moor Comment, iv. 496; Mestrezat, Serm. sur Rom., viii. 274.
.pm fne

.pm fns 22
I refer here particularly to Arnauld’s treatise, entitled “Renversement
de la Morale de Jesus Christ par les Calvinistes,” which was answered
by Jurieu in his “Justification de la Morale des Reformez.” 1685,
by M. Merlat, and others. Jurieu has shown at great length, and with
a severity for which he had too much provocation, that Arnauld and his
friends, in their violent tirades against the Reformed, neither acted in
good faith, nor in consistency with the sentiments of their much admired
leaders, Augustine and Jansen.
.pm fne
.bn 025.png
.pn +1

The revenge of the Jesuits did not stop at procuring the
condemnation of Jansen’s book; it aimed at his living followers.
Among these none was more conspicuous for virtue and
influence than the Abbé de St. Cyran, who was known to
have shared his counsels, and even aided in the preparation
of his obnoxious work. While Jansen labored to restore the
theoretical doctrines of Augustine, St. Cyran was ambitious
to reduce them to practice. In pursuance of the moral system
of that father, he taught the renunciation of the world,
and the total absorption of the soul in the love of God. His
religious fervor led him into some extravagances. He is said
to have laid some claim to a species of inspiration, and to
have anticipated for the Saviour some kind of temporal dominion,
in which the saints alone would be entitled to the wealth
and dignities of the world.[23] But his piety appears to have
been sincere, and, what is more surprising, his love to the
Scriptures was such that he not only lived in the daily study
of them himself, but earnestly enforced it on all his disciples.
He recommended them to study the Scriptures on their knees.
“No means of conversion,” he would say, “can be more
apostolic than the Word of God. Every word in Scripture
deserves to be weighed more attentively than gold. The
Scriptures were penned by a direct ray of the Holy Spirit;
the fathers only by a reflex ray emanating therefrom.” His
whole character and appearance corresponded with his doctrine.
“His simple mortified air, and his humble garb
formed a striking contrast with the awful sanctity of his
countenance, and his native lofty dignity of manner.”[24] Possessing
that force of character by which men of strong minds
silently but surely govern others, his proselytes soon increased,
and he became the nucleus of a new class of reformers.

.pm fns 23
Fontaine, Mémoires, i. 200; Mosheim, Eccl. Hist., cent. xvii. 2.
.pm fne

.pm fns 24
Lancelot, p. 123.
.pm fne

St. Cyran was soon called to preside over the renowned
.bn 026.png
.pn +1
monastery of Port-Royal. Two houses went under this
name, though forming one abbey. One of these was called
Port-Royal des Champs, and was situated in a gloomy forest,
about six leagues from Paris; but this having been found an
unhealthy situation, the nuns were removed for some time to
another house in Paris, which went under the name of Port-Royal
de Paris. The Abbey of Port-Royal was one of the
most ancient belonging to the order of Citeaux, having been
founded by Eudes de Sully, bishop of Paris, in 1204. It was
placed originally under the rigorous discipline of St. Benedict,
but in course of time fell, like most other monasteries,
into a state of the greatest relaxation. In 1602, a new abbess
was appointed in the person of Maria Angelica Arnauld,
sister of the famous Arnauld, then a mere child, scarcely
eleven years old! The nuns, promising themselves a long
period of unbounded liberty, rejoiced at this appointment.
But their joy was not of long duration. The young abbess,
at first, indeed, thought of nothing but amusement; but at
the age of seventeen a change came over her spirit. A certain
Capuchin, wearied, it is said, or more probably disgusted,
with the monastic life, had been requested by the nuns,
who were not aware of his character, to preach before them.
The preacher, equally ignorant of his audience, and supposing
them to be eminently pious ladies, delivered an affecting discourse,
pitched on the loftiest key of devotion, which left an
impression on the mind of Angelica never to be effaced. She
set herself to reform her establishment, and carried it into
effect with a determination and self-denial quite beyond her
years. This “reformation,” so highly lauded by her panegyrists,
consisted chiefly in restoring the austere discipline of
St. Benedict, and other severities practised in the earlier
ages, the details of which would be neither edifying nor
agreeable. The substitution of coarse serge in place of linen
as underclothing, and dropping melted wax on the bare arms,
may be taken as specimens of the reformation introduced by
Mère Angelique. In these mortifying exercises the abbess
showed an example to all the rest. She chose as her dormitory
.bn 027.png
.pn +1
the filthiest cell in the convent, a place infested with
toads and vermin, in which she found the highest delight,
declaring that she “seemed transported to the grotto of
Bethlehem.” The same rigid denial of pleasure was extended
to her food, her dress, her whole occupations. Clothed herself
in the rudest dress she could procure, nothing gave her
greater offence than to see in her nuns any approach to the
fashions of the world, even in the adjustment of the coarse
black serge, with the scarlet cross, which formed their humble
apparel[25]. Yet, in the midst of all this “voluntary humility,”
her heart seems to have been turned mainly to the
Saviour. It was Jesus Christ whom she aimed at adoring in
the worship she paid to “the sacrament of the altar.” And
in a book of devotion, composed by her for private use, she
gave expression to sentiments too much savoring of undivided
affection to Christ to escape the censure of the Church.
It was dragged to light and condemned at Rome[26]. There
is reason to believe that, under the direction of M. de St.
Cyran, her religious sentiments, as well as those of her community,
became much more enlightened. Her firmness in
resisting subscription to the formulary and condemning Jansen,
in spite of the most cruel and unmanly persecution, and
the piety and faith she manifested on her death-bed, when,
in the midst of exquisite suffering, and in the absence of the
rites which her persecutors denied her, she expired in the
full assurance of salvation through the merits of the only
Saviour, form one of the most interesting chapters in the
martyrology of the Church.

.pm fns 25
Mémoires pour servir a l’Histoire de Port-Royal, vol. i. pp. 35, 57,
142.
.pm fne

.pm fns 26
Ib., p. 456. The title of this work was, “The Secret Chaplet of
the Holy Sacrament.”
.pm fne

But St. Cyran aimed at higher objects than the management
of a nunnery. His energetic mind planned a system
of education, in which, along with the elements of learning,
the youth might be imbued with early piety. Attracted by
his fame, several learned men, some of them of rank and fortune,
.bn 028.png
.pn +1
fled to enjoy at Port-Royal des Champs a sacred retreat
from the world. This community, which differed from a
monastery in not being bound by any vows, settled in a farm
adjoining the convent, called Les Granges. The names of
Arnauld, D’Andilly, Nicole, Le Maitre, Sacy,[27] Fontaine,
Pascal, and others, have conferred immortality on the spot.
The system pursued in this literary hermitage was, in many
respects, deserving of praise. The time of the recluses was
divided between devotional and literary pursuits, relieved by
agricultural and mechanical labors. The Scriptures, and
other books of devotion, were translated into the vernacular
language; and the result was, the singular anomaly of a
Roman Catholic community distinguished for the devout and
diligent study of the Bible. Protestants they certainly were
not, either in spirit or in practice. Firm believers in the infallibility
of their Church, and fond devotees in the observance
of her rites, they held it a point of merit to yield a blind
obedience, in matters of faith, to the dogmas of Rome. None
were more hostile to Protestantism. St. Cyran, it is said,
would never open a Protestant book, even for the purpose of
refuting it, without first making the sign of the cross on it,
to exorcise the evil spirit which he believed to lurk within
its pages.[28] From no community did there emanate more
learned apologies for Rome than from Port-Royal. Still, it
must be owned, that in attachment to the doctrines of grace,
so far as they went, and in the exhibition of the Christian
virtues, attested by their sufferings, lives, and writings, the
Port-Royalists, including under this name both the nuns and
recluses, greatly surpassed many Protestant communities.
Their piety, indeed, partook of the failings which have always
characterized the religion of the cloister. It seems to
have hovered between superstition and mysticism. Afraid
to fight against the world, they fled from it; and, forgetting
that our Saviour was driven into the wilderness to be tempted
.bn 029.png
.pn +1
of the devil, they retired to a wilderness to avoid temptation.
Half conscious of the hollowness of the ceremonial
they practised, they sought to graft on its dead stock the vitalities
of the Christian faith. In their hands, penance was
sublimated into the symbol of penitential sorrow, and the
mass into a spiritual service, the benefit of which depended
on the preparation of the heart of the worshipper. In their
eyes, the priest was but a suggestive emblem of the Saviour;
and to them the altar, with its crucifix and bleeding image,
served only as a platform on which they might obtain a more
advantageous view of Calvary. Transferring to the Church
of Rome the attributes of the Church of God, and regarding
her still, in spite of her eclipse and disfigurement, as of one
spirit, and even of one body, with Christ, infallible and immortal,
they worshipped the fond creation of their own fancy.
At the same time, they attempted to revive the doctrine of
religious abstraction, or the absorption of the soul in Deity,
and the total renouncement of everything in the shape of
sensual enjoyment, which afterwards distinguished the mystics
of the Continent. Even in their literary recreations,
while they acquired an elegance of style which marked
a new era in the literature of France, they betrayed their
ascetic spirit. Poetry was only admissible when clothed in
a devotional garb. It was by stealth that Racine, who studied
at Port-Royal, indulged his poetic vein in the profane
pieces which afterwards gave him celebrity. And yet it is
candid to admit, that the mortifications in which this amiable
fraternity engaged, consisted rather in the exclusion of pleasure
than the infliction of pain, and that the object aimed at
in these austerities was not so much to merit heaven as to
attain an ideal perfection on earth. Port-Royalism, in short,
was Popery in its mildest type, as Jesuitism is Popery in its
perfection; and had it been possible to present that system
in a form calculated to disarm prejudice and to cover its native
deformities, the task might have been achieved by the
pious devotees of Les Granges. But the same merciful Providence
which, for the preservation of the human species, has
.bn 030.png
.pn +1
furnished the snake with his rattle, and taught the lion to
“roar for his prey,” has so ordered it that the Romish
Church should betray her real character, in order that his
people might “come out of her, and not be partakers of her
sins, that they receive not of her plagues.” The whole system
adopted at Port-Royal was regarded, from the commencement,
with extreme jealousy by the authorities of that
Church; the schools were soon dispersed, and the Jesuits
never rested till they had destroyed every vestige of the obnoxious
establishment.

.pm fns 27
Sacy, or Saci, was the inverted name of Isaac Le Maitre, celebrated
for his translation of the Bible.
.pm fne

.pm fns 28
Mosheim, Eccl. Hist., cent. xvii. §2.
.pm fne

The enemies of Port-Royal have attempted to show that
St. Cyran and his associates had formed a deep-laid plot for
overturning the Roman Catholic faith. From time to time,
down to the present day, works have appeared, under the
auspices of the Jesuits, in which this charge is reiterated;
and the old calumnies against the sect are revived—a periodical
trampling on the ashes of the poor Jansenists (after having
accomplished their ruin two hundred years ago), which
reminds one of nothing so much as the significant grinning and
yelling with which the modern Jews celebrate to this day the
downfal of Haman the Agagite.[29] In one point only could
their assailants find room to question their orthodoxy—the
supremacy of the pope. Here, certainly, they were led, more
from circumstances than from inclination, to lean to the side
of the Gallican liberties. But even Jansen himself, after
spending a lifetime on his “Augustinus,” and leaving it behind
him as a sacred legacy, abandoned himself and his treatise
to the judgment of the pope. The following are his
words, dictated by him half an hour before his death: “I
feel that it will be difficult to alter anything. Yet if the Romish
see should wish anything to be altered, I am her obedient
son; and to that Church in which I have always lived,
even to this bed of death, I will prove obedient. This is my
last will.” The same sentiment is expressed by Pascal, in one
.bn 031.png
.pn +1
of his letters. Alas! how sad is the predicament in which
the Church of Rome places her conscientious votaries! Both
of these excellent men were as firmly persuaded, no doubt, of
the faith which they taught, as of the facts which came under
their observation; and yet they held themselves bound
to cast their religious convictions at the feet of a fellow-mortal,
notoriously under the influence of the Jesuits, and professed
themselves ready, at a signal from Rome, to renounce
what they held as divine truth, and to embrace what they
regarded as damnable error! A spectacle more painful and
piteous can hardly be imagined than that of such men struggling
between the dictates of conscience, and the night-mare
of that “strong delusion,” which led them to “believe a lie.”

.pm fns 29
We may refer particularly to Petitot in his Collection des Mémoires,
tom. xxxiii., Paris, 1824; and to a History of the Company of Jesus by
J. Cretineau-Joly, Paris, 1845. With high pretensions to impartiality,
these works abound with the most glaring specimens of special pleading.
.pm fne

In every feature that distinguished the Port-Royalists, they
stood opposed to the Jesuits. In theology they were antipodes—in
learning they were rivals. The schools of Port-Royal
already eclipsed those of the Jesuits, whose policy it
has always been to monopolize education, under the pretext
of charity. But the Jansenists might have been allowed to
retain their peculiar tenets, had they not touched the idol
of every Jesuit, “the glory of the Society,” by supplanting
them in the confessional. The priests connected with Port-Royal,
from their primitive simplicity of manners and severity
of morals, and, above all, from their spiritual Christianity,
acquired a popularity which could not fail to give mortal
offence to the Society, who then ruled the councils both of
the Church and the nation. Nothing less than the annihilation
of the whole party would satisfy their vengeful purpose.
In this nefarious design they were powerfully aided by Cardinal
Richelieu, and by Louis XIV., a prince who, though yet
a mere youth, was entirely under Jesuitical influence in matters
of religion; and who, having resolved to extirpate Protestantism,
could not well endure the existence of a sect within
the Church, which seemed to favor the Reformation by exposing
the corruptions of the clergy.[30]

.pm fns 30
Voltaire, Siècle de Louis XIV, t. ii.
.pm fne
.bn 032.png
.pn +1

To effect their object, St. Cyran, the leader and ornament
of the party, required to be disposed of. He was accused
of various articles of heresy; and Cardinal Richelieu at once
gratified his party resentment and saved himself the trouble of
controversy, by immuring him in the dungeon of Vincennes.
In this prison St. Cyran languished for five years, and survived
his release only a few months, having died in October,
1643. His place, however, as leader of the Jansenist party,
was supplied by one destined to annoy the Jesuits by his controversial
talents fully more than his predecessor had done by
his apostolic sanctity. Anthony Arnauld may be said to have
been born an enemy to the Jesuits. His father, a celebrated
lawyer, had distinguished himself for his opposition to the
Society, and having engaged in an important law-suit against
them, in which he warmly pleaded, in the name of the university,
that they should be interdicted from the education
of youth, and even expelled from the kingdom. Anthony,
who inherited his spirit, was the youngest in a family of
twenty children, and was born February 6, 1612.[31] Several
of them were connected with Port-Royal. His sister, as we
have seen, became its abbess; and five other sisters were
nuns in that establishment. He is said to have given precocious
proof of his polemic turn. Busying himself, when a
mere boy, with some papers in his uncle’s library, and being
asked what he was about, he replied, “Don’t you see that I
am helping you to refute the Hugonots?” This prognostication
he certainly verified in after life. He wrote, with almost
equal vehemence, against Rome, against the Jesuits, and
against the Protestants. He was, for many years, the <lang=la><i>facile
princeps</i></lang> of the party termed Jansenists; and was one of those
characters who present to the public an aspect nearly the reverse
of the estimate formed of them by their private friends.
By the latter he is represented as the best of men, totally
free from pride and passion. Judging from his physiognomy,
.bn 033.png
.pn +1
his writings and his life, we would say the natural temper of
Arnauld was austere and indomitable. Expelled from the
Sorbonne, driven out of France, and hunted from place to
place, he continued to fight to the last. On one occasion,
wishing his friend Nicole to assist him in a new work, the latter
observed, “We are now old, is it not time to rest?”
“Rest!” exclaimed Arnauld, “have we not all eternity to
rest in?”

.pm fns 31
Mémoires de P. Royal, i. 13. Bayle insists that his father had
twenty-two children. Dict., art. <cite>Arnauld</cite>.
.pm fne

Such was the character of the man who now entered the
lists against the redoubtable Society. His first offence was
the publication, in 1643, of a book on “Frequent Communion;”
in which, while he inculcates the necessity of a spiritual
preparation for the eucharist, he insinuated that the
Church of Rome had a two-fold head, in the persons of Peter
and Paul.[32] His next was in the shape of two letters, published
in 1656, occasioned by a dispute referred to in the first
Provincial Letter, in which he declared that he had not been
able to find the condemned propositions in Jansen, and added
some opinions on grace. The first of these assertions was
deemed derogatory to the holy see; the second was charged
with heresy. The Jesuits, who sighed for an opportunity of
humbling the obnoxious doctor, strained every nerve to procure
his expulsion from the Sorbonne, or college of divinity in the
university. This object they had just accomplished, and everything
promised fair to secure their triumph, when another
combatant unexpectedly appeared, like one of those closely-visored
knights of whom we read in romance, who so opportunely
enter the field at the critical moment, and with their
single arm turn the tide of battle. Need we say that we
allude to the author of the <sc>Provincial Letters</sc>?

.pm fns 32
Weisman, Hist. Eccl., ii. 204.
.pm fne

Bayle commences his Life of Pascal by declaring him to be
“one of the sublimest geniuses that the world ever produced.”
Seldom, at least, has the world ever seen such a
combination of excellences in one man. In him we are called
to admire the loftiest attributes of mind with the loveliest
.bn 034.png
.pn +1
simplicity of moral character. He is a rare example of one
born with a natural genius for the exact sciences, who applied
the subtlety of his mind to religious subjects, combining
with the closest logic the utmost elegance of style, and
crowning all with a simple and profound piety. Blaise Pascal
was born at Clermont, 19th June, 1623. His family had
been ennobled by Louis XI., and his father, Stephen Pascal,
occupied a high post in the civil government. Blaise manifested
from an early age a strong liking for the study of
mathematics, and, while yet a child, made some astonishing
discoveries in natural philosophy. To these studies he devoted
the greater part of his life. An incident, however, which
occurred in his thirty-first year—a narrow escape from sudden
death—had the effect of giving an entire change to the
current of his thoughts. He regarded it as a message from
heaven, calling him to renounce all secular occupations, and
devote himself exclusively to God. His sister and niece being
nuns in Port-Royal, he was naturally led to associate with
those who then began to be called Jansenists. But though
he had several of the writings of the party, there can be no
doubt that it was the devotion rather than the theology of
Port-Royal that constituted its charm in the eyes of Pascal.
His sister informs us, in her memoirs of him, that “he had
never applied himself to abstruse questions in divinity.” Nor,
beyond a temporary retreat to Port-Royal des Champs, and
an intimacy with its leading solitaries, can he be said to have
had any connection with that establishment. His fragile
frame, which was the victim of complicated disease, and his
feminine delicacy of spirit, unfitting him for the rough collisions
of ordinary life, he found a congenial retreat amidst
these literary solitudes; while, with his clear and comprehensive
mind, and his genuine piety of heart, he must have
sympathized with those who sought to remove from the
Church corruptions which he could not fail to deplore, and to
renovate the spirit of that Christianity which he loved far
above any of its organized forms. His life, not unlike a perpetual
miracle, is ever exciting our admiration, not unmingled,
.bn 035.png
.pn +1
however, with pity. We see great talents enlisted in the
support, not indeed of the errors of a system, but of a system
of errors—we see a noble mind debilitated by superstition—we
see a useful life prematurely terminating in, if not
shortened by, the petty austerities and solicitudes of monasticism.
Truth requires us to state, that he not only denied
himself, at last, the most common comforts of life, but wore
beneath his clothes a girdle of iron, with sharp points, which,
as soon as he felt any pleasurable sensation, he would strike
with his elbow, so as to force the points of iron more deeply
into his sides. Let the Church, which taught him such folly,
be responsible for it; and let us ascribe to the grace of God
the patience, the meekness, the charity, and the faith, which
hovered, seraph-wise, over the death-bed of expiring genius.
The curate who attended him, struck with the triumph of religion
over the pride of an intellect which continued to burn
after it had ceased to blaze, would frequently exclaim: “He
is an infant—humble and submissive as an infant!” He died
on the 19th of August, 1662, aged thirty-nine years and two
months.

While Arnauld’s process before the Sorbonne was in dependence,
a few of his friends, among whom were Pascal and
Nicole, were in the habit of meeting privately at Port-Royal,
to consult on the measures they should adopt. During these
conferences one of their number said to Arnauld: “Will you
really suffer yourself to be condemned like a child, without
saying a word, or telling the public the real state of the question?”
The rest concurred, and in compliance with their solicitations,
Arnauld, after some days, produced and read before
them a long and serious vindication of himself. His
audience listened in coolness and silence, upon which he remarked:
“I see you don’t think highly of my production,
and I believe you are right; but,” added he, turning himself
round and addressing Pascal, “you who are young, why
cannot you produce something?” The appeal was not lost
upon our author; he had hitherto written almost nothing, but
he engaged to try a sketch or rough draft, which they might
.bn 036.png
.pn +1
fill up; and retiring to his room, he produced, in a few hours,
instead of a sketch, the first letter to a provincial. On reading
this to his assembled friends, Arnauld exclaimed, “That
is excellent! that will go down; we must have it printed
immediately.”

Pascal had, in fact, with the native superiority of genius,
pitched on the very tone which, in a controversy of this kind,
was calculated to arrest the public mind. Treating theology
in a style entirely new, he brought down the subject to the
comprehension of all, and translated into the pleasantries of
comedy, and familiarities of dialogue, discussions which had
till then been confined to the grave utterances of the school.
The framework which he adopted in his first letter was exceedingly
happy. A Parisian is supposed to transmit to one
of his friends in the provinces an account of the disputes of
the day. It is said that the provincial with whom he affected
to correspond was Perrier, who had married one of his sisters.
Hence arose the name of the <lang=fr><i>Provincials</i></lang>, which was
given to the rest of the letters.

This title they owe, it would appear, to a mistake of the
printer; for in an advertisement prefixed to one of the early
editions, it is stated that “they have been called ‘Provincials,’
because the first having been addressed without any
name to a person in the country, the printer published it
under the title ‘Letter written to a Provincial by one of his
Friends.’” This may be regarded as an apology for the use
of a term which, critically speaking, was rather unhappy.
The word <lang=fr><i>provincial</i></lang> in French, when used to signify a person
residing in the provinces, was generally understood in a
bad sense, as denoting an unpolished clown.[33] But the title,
.bn 037.png
.pn +1
uncouth as it is, has been canonized and made classical forever;
and “The Provincials” is a phrase which it would now
be fully as ridiculous to attempt to change as it could be at
first to apply it to the Letters.

.pm fns 33
The title under which the Letters appeared when first collected into
a volume was, “<lang=fr><i>Lettres écrites par Louis de Montalte, a un Provincial
de ses amis, et aux RR. PP. Jesuites, sur la morale et la politique de
ces Peres</i></lang>.”

Father Bouhours, a Jesuit, ridicules the title of the Letters, and says
he is surprised they were not rather entitled “Letters from a Country
Bumpkin to his Friends,” and instead of “The Provincials” called “The
Bumpkins”—“<lang=fr><i>Campagnardes</i></lang>.” (Remarques sur la langue Fran., p.
ii. 306. Dict. Univ., art. <cite>Provincial</cite>.)
.pm fne

The most trifling particulars connected with such a publication
possess an interest. The Letters, we learn, were published
at first in separate stitched sheets of a quarto size;
and, on account of their brevity, none of them extending to
more than one sheet of eight pages, except the last three,
which were somewhat longer, they were at first known by
the name of the “<sc>Little Letters</sc>.” No stated time was
observed in their publication. The first letter appeared January
13, 1656, being on a Wednesday; the second on January
29, being Saturday; and the rest were issued at intervals
varying from a week to a month, till March 24, 1657,
which is the date of the last letter in the series; the whole
thus extending over the space of a year and three months.

All accounts agree in stating that the impression produced
by the Provincials, on their first appearance, was quite unexampled.
They were circulated in thousands in Paris and
throughout France. Speaking of the first letter, Father
Daniel says: “It created a fracas which filled the fathers of
the Society with consternation. Never did the post-office
reap greater profits; copies were despatched over the whole
kingdom; and I myself, though very little known to the
gentlemen of Port-Royal, received a large packet of them,
post-paid, in a town of Brittany where I was then residing.”
The same method was followed with the rest of the letters.
The seventh found its way to Cardinal Mazarin, who laughed
over it very heartily. The eighth did not appear till a month
after its predecessor, apparently to keep up expectation.[34]
In short, everybody read the “Little Letters,” and, whatever
might be their opinions of the points in dispute, all
agreed in admiring the genius which they displayed. They
were found lying on the merchant’s counter, the lawyer’s
.bn 038.png
.pn +1
desk, the doctor’s table, the lady’s toilet; and everywhere
they were sought for and perused with the same avidity.[35]
The success of the Letters in gaining their object was not
less extraordinary. The Jesuits were fairly checkmated;
and though they succeeded in carrying through the censure
of Arnauld, the public sympathy was enlisted in his favor.
The confessionals and churches of the Jesuits were deserted,
while those of their opponents were crowded with admiring
thousands.[36] “That book alone,” says one of its bitterest
enemies, “has done more for the Jansenists than the ‘Augustinus’
of Jansen, and all the works of Arnauld put together.”[37]
This is the more surprising when we consider that,
at that time, the influence of the Jesuits was so high in the
ascendant, that Arnauld had to contend with the pope, the
king, the chancellor, the clergy, the Sorbonne, the universities,
and the great body of the populace; and that never
was Jansenism at a lower ebb, or more generally anathematized
than when the first Provincial Letter appeared.

.pm fns 34
Daniel, Entretiens, p. 19.
.pm fne

.pm fns 35
Petitot, Notices, p. 121.
.pm fne

.pm fns 36
Benoit, Hist. de l’Edit. de Nantes, iii. 198.
.pm fne

.pm fns 37
Daniel, Entretiens, p. 11.
.pm fne

This, however, was not all. Besides having the tide of
public favor turned against them, the Jesuits found themselves
the objects of universal derision. The names of their
favorite casuists were converted into proverbs: <i>Escobarder</i>
came to signify the same thing with “paltering in a double
sense;” Father Bauny’s grotesque maxims furnished topics
for perpetual badinage; and the Jesuits, wherever they went,
were assailed with inextinguishable laughter. By no other
method could Pascal have so severely stung this proud and
self-conceited Society. The rage into which they were
thrown was extreme, and was variously expressed. At one
time it found vent in calumnies and threats of vengeance.
At other times they indulged in puerile lamentations. It
was amusing to hear these stalwart divines, after breathing
fire and slaughter against their enemies, assume the querulous
tones of injured and oppressed innocence. “The persecution
.bn 039.png
.pn +1
which the Jesuits suffer from the buffooneries of Port-Royal,”
they said, “is perfectly intolerable: the wheel and
the gibbet are nothing to it; it can only be compared to the
torture inflicted on the ancient martyrs, who were first rubbed
over with honey and then left to be stung to death by wasps
and wild bees. Their tyrants have subjected them to empoisoned
raillery, and the world leaves them unpitied to suffer
a sweet death, more cruel in its sweetness than the bitterest
punishment.”[38]

.pm fns 38
Nicole, Notes sur la xi. Lettre iii. 332.
.pm fne

The Letters were published anonymously, under the fictitious
signature of Louis de Montalte, and the greatest care
was taken to preserve the secret of their authorship. As on
all such occasions, many were the guesses made, and the
false reports circulated; but beyond the circle of Pascal’s
personal friends, none knew him to be the author, nor was
the fact certainly or publicly known till after his death. The
following anecdote shows, however, that he was suspected,
and was once very nearly discovered: After publishing the
third letter, Pascal left Port-Royal des Champs, to avoid being
disturbed, and took up his residence in Paris, under the
name of M. de Mons, in a <lang=fr><i>hotel garni</i></lang>, at the sign of the King
of Denmark, Rue des Poiriers, exactly opposite the college
of the Jesuits. Here he was joined by his brother-in-law,
Perrier, who passed as the master of the house. One day
Perrier received a visit from his relative, Father Frétat, a
Jesuit, accompanied by a brother monk. Frétat told him
that the Society suspected M. Pascal to be the author of the
“Little Letters,” which were making such a noise, and advised
him as a friend to prevail on his brother-in-law to desist
from writing any more of them, as he might otherwise
involve himself in much trouble, and even danger. Perrier
thanked him for his advice, but said he was afraid it would
be altogether useless, as Pascal would just reply that he
could not hinder people from suspecting him, and that
though he should deny it they would not believe him. The
monks took their departure, much to the relief of Perrier, for
.bn 040.png
.pn +1
at that very time several sheets of the seventh or eighth letter,
newly come from the printer, were lying on the bed,
where they had been placed for the purpose of drying, but,
fortunately, though the curtains were only partially drawn,
and one of the monks sat very close to the bed, they were
not observed. Perrier ran immediately to communicate the
incident to his brother-in-law, who was in an adjoining apartment;
and he had reason to congratulate him on the narrow
escape which he had made.[39]

.pm fns 39
Recueil de Port-Royal, 278, 279; Petitot, pp. 122, 123.
.pm fne

As Pascal proceeded, he transmitted his manuscripts to
Port-Royal des Champs, where they were carefully revised
and corrected by Arnauld and Nicole. Occasionally, these
expert divines suggested the plans of the letters; and by
them he was, beyond all doubt, furnished with most of his
quotations from the voluminous writings of the casuists,
which, with the exception of Escobar, he appears never to
have read. We must not suppose, however, that he took
these on trust, or gave himself no trouble to verify them.
We shall afterwards have proof of the contrary. The first
letters he composed with the rapidity of new-born enthusiasm;
but the pains and mental exertion which he bestowed
on the rest are almost incredible. Nicole says “he was often
twenty whole days on a single letter: and some of them
he recommenced seven or eight times before bringing them
to their present state of perfection.”[40] We are assured that
he wrote over the eighteenth letter no less than thirteen
times.[41] Having been obliged to hasten the publication of
the sixteenth, on account of a search made after it in the
printing office, he apologizes for its length on the ground
that “he had found no time to make it shorter.”[42]

.pm fns 40
Histoire des Provinciales, p. 12.
.pm fne

.pm fns 41
Petitot, p. 124. The eighteenth letter embraces the delicate topic
of papal authority, as well as the distinction between <em>faith</em> and <em>fact</em>,
in stating which we can easily conceive how severely the ingenuous
mind of Pascal must have labored to find some plausible ground for
vindicating his consistency as a Roman Catholic. To the Protestant
reader, it must appear the most unsatisfactory of all the Letters.
.pm fne

.pm fns 42
Prov. Let., p. 340.
.pm fne
.bn 041.png
.pn +1

The fruits of this extraordinary elaboration appear in every
letter; but what is equally remarkable, is the art with which
so many detached letters, written at distant intervals, and
prompted by passing events, have been so arranged as to
form an harmonious whole. The first three letters refer to
Arnauld’s affair; the questions of grace are but slightly
touched, the main object being to interest the reader in favor
of the Jansenists, and excite his contempt and indignation
against their opponents. After this prelude, the fourth letter
serves as a transition to the following six, in which he
takes up maxims of the casuists. In the eight concluding
letters he resumes the grand objects of the work—the morals
of the Jesuits and the question of grace. These three parts
have each their peculiar style. The first is distinguished for
lively dialogue and repartee. Jacobins, Molinists, and Jansenists
are brought on the stage, and speak in character,
while Pascal does little more than act as reporter. In the
second part, he comes into personal contact with a casuistical
doctor, and extracts from him, under the pretext of desiring
information, some of the weakest and worst of his maxims.
At the eleventh letter, Pascal throws off his disguise,
and addressing himself directly to the whole order of the
Jesuits, and to their Provincial by name, he pours out his
whole soul in an impetuous and impassioned torrent of declamation.
From beginning to end it is a well-sustained battle,
in which the weapons are only changed in order to strike
the harder.

The literary merits of the Provincials have been universally
acknowledged and applauded. On this point, where
Pascal’s countrymen must be considered the most competent
judges, we have the testimonies of the leading spirits of
France. Boileau pronounced it a work that has “surpassed
at once the ancients and the moderns.” Perrault has given
a similar judgment: “There is more wit in these eighteen
letters than in Plato’s Dialogues; more delicate and artful
raillery than in those of Lucian; and more strength and ingenuity
of reasoning than in the orations of Cicero. We
.bn 042.png
.pn +1
have nothing more beautiful in this species of writing.”[43]
“Pascal’s style,” says the Abbé d’Artigny, “has never been
surpassed, nor perhaps equalled.”[44] The high encomium of
Voltaire is well known: “The Provincial Letters were models
of eloquence and pleasantry. The best comedies of Molière
have not more wit in them than the first letters; Bossuet
has nothing more sublime than the last ones.” Again,
the same writer says: “The first work of genius that appeared
in prose was the collection of the Provincial Letters.
Examples of every species of eloquence may there be found.
There is not a single word in it which, after a hundred years,
has undergone the change to which all living languages are
liable. We may refer to this work the era when our language
became fixed. The Bishop of Luçon told me, that
having asked the Bishop of Meaux what work he would wish
most to have been the author of, setting his own works
aside, Bossuet instantly replied, ‘The Provincial Letters.’”[45]
“Pascal succeeded beyond all expression,” says D’Alembert;
“several of his bon-mots have become proverbial in
our language, and the Provincials will be ever regarded as a
model of taste and style.”[46] To this day the same high eulogiums
are passed on the work by the best scholars of
France.[47]

.pm fns 43
Perrault, Parallele des Anc. et Mod., Bayle, art. <cite>Pascal</cite>.
.pm fne

.pm fns 44
D’Artigny, Nouveaux Mémoires iii. p. 34.
.pm fne

.pm fns 45
Voltaire, Siècle de Louis XIV., tom. ii. pp. 171, 274.
.pm fne

.pm fns 46
D’Alembert, Destruct. des Jesuites, p. 54.
.pm fne

.pm fns 47
Bordas-Demoulin, Eloge de Pascal, p. xxv. (This was the prize
essay before the French Academy, in June, 1842.)
.pm fne

To these testimonies it would be superfluous to add any
criticism of our own, were it not to prepare the English
reader for the peculiar character of our author’s style. Pascal’s
wit is essentially French. It is not the broad humor
of Smollet; it is not the cool irony of Swift; far less is it
the envenomed sarcasm of Junius. It is wit—the lively, polite,
piquant wit of the early French school. Nothing can be
finer than its spirit; but from its very fineness it is apt to evaporate
in the act of transfusion into another tongue. Nothing
.bn 043.png
.pn +1
can be more ingenious than the transitions by which the author
glides insensibly from one topic to another; and in the more
serious letters, we cannot fail to be struck with the mathematical
precision of his reasoning. But there is a species of
iteration, and a style of dovetailing his sentiments, which
does not quite accord with our taste; and the foreign texture
of which, in spite of every effort to the contrary, must shine
through any translation.

High as the Provincials stand in the literary world, they
were not suffered to pass without censure in the high places
of the Church. The first effect of their publication, indeed,
was to raise a storm against the casuists, whom Pascal had so
effectually exposed. The curés of Paris, and afterwards the
assembly of the clergy, shocked at the discovery of such a
sink of corruption, the existence of which, though just beneath
their feet, they never appear to have suspected, determined
to institute an examination into the subject. Hitherto
the tenets of the casuists, buried in huge folios, or only taught
in the colleges of the Jesuits, had escaped public observation.
The clergy resolved to compare the quotations of Pascal
with these writings; and the result of the investigation
was, that he was found to be perfectly correct, while a multitude
of other maxims, equally scandalous, were dragged to
light. These were condemned in a general assembly of the
clergy.[48] Unfortunately for the Jesuits, they had not a single
writer at the time capable of conducting their vindication.
Several replies to the Provincials were attempted while they
were in the course of publication; but these were taken up
by the redoubtable Montalte, and fairly strangled at their
birth.[49] Shortly after the Letters were finished, there appeared
“An Apology for the Casuists,” the production of a
.bn 044.png
.pn +1
Jesuit named Pirot, who, with a folly and frankness which
proved nearly as fatal to his order as it did to himself,
attempted to vindicate the worst maxims of the casuistical
school. This Apology was condemned by the Sorbonne, and
subsequently at Rome; its author died of chagrin, and the
Jesuits fell into temporary disgrace.[50]

.pm fns 48
Nicole, Hist. des Provinciales.
.pm fne

.pm fns 49
The names of these unfortunate productions alone survive; 1.
“First Reply to Letters, &c., by a Father of the Company of Jesus.”
2. “Provincial Impostures of Sieur de Montalte, Secretary of Port-Royal,
discovered and refuted by a Father of the Company of Jesus.”
3. “Reply to a Theologian,” &c. 4. “Reply to the Seventeenth Letter,
by Francis Annat,” &c., &c.
.pm fne

.pm fns 50
Eichhorn, Geschichte der Litteratur, vol. i. pp. 420–423.
.pm fne

But, with that tenaciousness of life and elasticity of limb
which have ever distinguished the Society, it was not long
before they rebounded from their fall and regained their feet.
Unable to answer the Letters, they succeeded in obtaining, in
February, 1657, their condemnation by the Parliament of
Provence, by whose orders they were burnt on the pillory by
the hands of the common executioner. Not content with
this clumsy method of refutation, they succeeded in procuring
the formal condemnation of the Provincials by a censure
of the pope, Alexander VII., dated 6th September, 1657.
In this decree the work is “prohibited and condemned, under
the pains and censures contained in the Council of Trent, and
in the index of prohibited books, and other pains and censures
which it may please his holiness to ordain.” It is
almost needless to say, that these sentences neither enhanced
nor lessened the fame of the Provincials. It must be interesting
to know what the feelings of Pascal were, on learning
that this work, into which he had thrown his whole heart,
and mind, and strength, and which may be said to have been
at once his <lang=fr><i>chef-d’œuvre</i></lang> and his confession of faith, had been
condemned by the head of that Church which he had hitherto
believed to be infallible. Warped as his fine spirit was
by education, his unbending rectitude forbids the supposition
that he could surrender his cherished and conscientious sentiments
at the mere dictum of the pope. An incident occurred
in 1661, shortly before his death, strikingly illustrative
of his conscientiousness, and of the sincerity of purpose with
which the Letters were written. The persecution had begun
to rage against Port-Royal; one <lang=fr><i>mandement</i></lang> after another,
.bn 045.png
.pn +1
requiring subscription to the condemnation of Jansen, came
down from the court of Rome; and the poor nuns, shrinking,
on the one hand, from violating their consciences by subscribing
what they believed to be an untruth, and trembling,
on the other, at the consequences of disobeying their ecclesiastical
superiors, were thrown into the most distressing embarrassment.
Their “obstinacy,” as it was termed, only provoked
their persecutors to more stringent demands. In these
circumstances, even the stern Arnauld and the conscientious
Nicole were tempted to make some compromise, and drew up
a declaration to accompany the signature of the nuns, which
they thought might save at once the truth and their consistency.
To this Pascal objected, as not sufficiently clear, and
as leaving it to be inferred that they condemned “efficacious
grace.” He could not endure the idea of their employing an
ambiguous statement, which appeared, or might be supposed
by their opponents, to grant what they did not really mean
to concede. The consequence was a slight and temporary
dispute—not affecting principle so much as the mode of
maintaining it—in which Pascal stood alone against all the
members of Port-Royal. On one occasion, after exhausting
his eloquence upon them without success, he was so deeply
affected, that his feeble frame, laboring under headache and
other disorders, sunk under the excitement, and he fell into a
swoon. After recovering his consciousness, he explained the
cause of his sudden illness, in answer to the affectionate
inquiries of his sister: “When I saw those,” he said, “whom
I regard as the persons to whom God has made known his
truth, and who ought to be its champions, all giving way, I
was so overcome with grief that I could stand it no longer.”
Subsequent <lang=fr><i>mandements</i></lang>, still more stringent, soon saved the
poor nuns from the temptation of ambiguous submissions, and
reconciled Pascal and his friends.[51]

.pm fns 51
Recueil de Port-Royal, pp. 314–323. Some papers passed between
Pascal and his friends on this topic. Pascal committed these on his
death-bed to his friend M. Domat, “with a request that he would burn
them if the nuns of Port-Royal proved firm, and print them if they
should yield.” (Ib., p. 322.) The nuns having stood firm, the probability
is that they were destroyed. Had they been preserved, they might
have thrown some further light on the opinions of Pascal regarding
papal authority.
.pm fne
.bn 046.png
.pn +1

But we are fortunately furnished with his own reflections
on the subject of the Provincials, in his celebrated “Thoughts
on Religion:”

“I feared,” says he, “that I might have written erroneously,
when I saw myself condemned; but the example of so
many pious witnesses made me think differently. It is no
longer allowable to write truth. <sc>If my letters are condemned
at Rome, that which I condemn in them is condemned
in heaven.</sc>”[52]

.pm fns 52
<lang=fr><i>Si mes Lettres sont condamnées à Rome, ce que j’y condamne, est
condamné dans le ciel.</i></lang> (Pensées de Blaise Pascal, tom. ii. 163. Paris,
1824.)
.pm fne

It is only necessary to add, that Pascal continued to maintain
his sentiments on this subject unchanged to the last. On
his death-bed, M. Beurrier, his parish priest, administered to
him the last rites of his Church, and came to learn, after having
confessed him, that he was the author of the “Provincial
Letters.” Full of concern at having absolved the author of
a book condemned by the pope, the good priest returned,
and asked him if it was true, and if he had no remorse of
conscience on that account. Pascal replied, that “he could
assure him, as one who was now about to give an account to
God of all his actions, that his conscience gave him no trouble
on that score; and that in the composition of that work
he was influenced by no mad motive, but solely by regard to
the glory of God and the vindication of truth, and not in the
least by any passion or personal feeling against the Jesuits.”
Attempts were made by Perefixe, archbishop of Paris, first
to bully the priest for having absolved such an impenitent
offender,[53] and afterwards to force him into a false account of
his penitent’s confession. It was confidently reported, on the
pretended authority of the confessor, that Pascal had expressed
his sorrow for having written the Provincials, and
.bn 047.png
.pn +1
that he had condemned his friends of Port-Royal for want
of due respect to papal authority. Both these allegations
were afterwards distinctly refuted—the first by the written
avowal of M. Beurrier, and the other by two depositions formally
made by Nicole, showing that the real ground of Pascal’s
brief disagreement with his friends was directly the reverse
of that which had been assigned.[54]

.pm fns 53
“How came you,” said the archbishop to M. Beurrier, “to administer
the sacraments to such a person? Didn’t you know that he was
a Jansenist?” (Recueil, 348.)
.pm fne

.pm fns 54
Recueil de Port-Royal, pp. 327–330; Petitot, p. 165.
.pm fne

Few books have passed through more editions than the
Provincials. The following, among many others, may be
mentioned as French editions:—The first, in 1656, 4to; a
second in 1657, 12mo; a third in 1658, 8vo; a fourth in
1659, 8vo; a fifth in 1666, 12mo; a sixth in 1667, 8vo; a
seventh in 1669, 12mo; an eighth in 1689, 8vo; a ninth in
1712, 8vo; a tenth in 1767, 12mo.[55] The later editions are
beyond enumeration. The Letters were translated into Latin,
during the lifetime of Pascal, by his intimate friend, the
learned and indefatigable Nicole, under the assumed name of
“William Wendrock, a Saltzburg divine.”[56] Nicole, who was
a complete master of Latin, has given an elegant, though
somewhat free version of his friend’s work. He has frequently
added to the quotations taken from the writings of
the Jesuits and others; a liberty which he doubtless felt
himself the more warranted to take, from the share he had
in the original concoction of the Letters. Nicole’s preliminary
dissertation and notes were translated by Mademoiselle
de Joncourt, a lady, it is said, “possessed of talents and
piety, who, to the graces peculiar to her own sex, added the
accomplishments which are the ornament of ours.”[57] Besides
this, the Provincials have been translated into nearly all
.bn 048.png
.pn +1
the languages of Europe. Bayle informs us that he had seen
an edition of them in 8vo, with four columns, containing the
French, Latin, Italian, and Spanish.[58] The Spanish translation,
executed by Gratien Cordero of Burgos, was suppressed
by order of the Inquisition.[59] But all the efforts made for
the suppression of the Provincials only served to promote
their popularity; and their enemies found that, if they would
silence, they must answer them.

.pm fns 55
Walchii Biblioth. Theol., ii. 295.
.pm fne

.pm fns 56
The title of Nicole’s translation, now rarely to be met with, is, <lang=la><i>Ludovici
Montaltii Litteræ Provinciales, de Morali et Politica Jesuitarum
Disciplina. A Willelmo Wendrockio, Salisburgensi Theologo.</i></lang> Several
editions of this translation were printed. I have the first, published at
Cologne in 1658, and the fifth, much enlarged, Cologne, 1679.
.pm fne

.pm fns 57
Avertissement, Les Provinciales, ed. 1767. Mad. de Joncourt, or
Joncoux, took a deep interest in the falling fortunes of Port-Royal.
(See some account of her in Madame Schimmelpenninck’s History of
the Demolition of Port-Royal, p. 135.)
.pm fne

.pm fns 58
Bayle, Dict., art. <cite>Pascal</cite>.
.pm fne

.pm fns 59
Daniel, Entretiens, p. 111.
.pm fne

Forty years elapsed after the publication of the Provincials
before the Jesuits ventured on a reply. At length, in 1697,
appeared an answer, entitled <cite>Entretiens de Cleandre et d’Eudoxe,
sur les Lettres au Provincial</cite>. The author is known to
have been Father Daniel, the historiographer of France.
This learned Jesuit undertook the desperate task of refuting
the Provincials, in a form somewhat resembling that of the
Letters themselves, being a series of supposed conversations
between two friends, aided by an abbé, “who is excessively
frank and honest, one who never could bear all his life to see
people imposed upon.” The dialogue is conducted with considerable
spirit, but is sadly deficient in <lang=fr><i>vraisemblance</i></lang>. The
author commences with high professions of impartiality. Cleander
and Eudoxus are supposed to be quite neutral—somewhat
like the free-will of Molina, “in a state of perfect equilibrium,
until good sense and stubborn facts turn the scale.”
But, alas! the equilibrium is soon lost, without the help either
of facts or of sense. The friends have hardly uttered two
sentences, till they begin to talk as like two Jesuits as could
well be imagined. Party rage gets the better of literary discretion;
the Port-Royalists are “honest knaves,” “true hypocrites,”
“villains animated with stubborn fury;” Arnauld’s
“pen may be known by the gall that drops from it;” Nicole
“swears like a trooper,” and as to Pascal he is all these characters
in turn, while his book is “a repertory of slander,”
and is “villainous in a supreme degree!”

The whole strain of Daniel’s reply corresponds with this
.bn 049.png
.pn +1
specimen of its spirit. Avoiding the error of Pirot, and yet
without renouncing the favorite dogmas of the Society, such
as probabilism, equivocations, and mental reservations, which
he only attempts to palliate, Father Daniel has exhausted his
skill in an attack on the sincerity of Pascal. His main object
is to convey the impression that the Provincials are a
libel, written in bad faith, and full of altered texts and false
citations. In selecting this plan of defence, the Jesuit champion
evinces considerably more ingenuity than ingenuousness.
He was well aware that, at the time of their publication, the
Letters had been subjected to a sifting process of examination
by the most clear-sighted Jesuits, who had signally failed
in proving any falsifications. But he knew also, that, during
the forty years that had elapsed, the writings of the casuists
had fallen into disuse and contempt, mainly in consequence
of the scorching which they had received from the wit and
eloquence of Pascal, and that it would be now a much easier
and safer task to call in question the fidelity of citations which
none would give themselves the trouble of verifying. In this
bold attempt to turn the tables against the Jansenists, by accusing
them of chicanery and pious fraud, the very crimes
which they had succeeded in establishing against their opponents,
the unscrupulous Jesuit could be at no loss to find,
among the voluminous writings of the casuists, some plausible
grounds for his charges. At all events, he could calculate
on the readiness with which certain minds, fonder of generalizing
than of investigating facts, would lay hold of the
mere circumstance of a book having been written in defence
of his order, as sufficient to show that a great deal may be
said on both sides. As to the manner in which Daniel has
executed his task, it might be sufficient to say, that it has
been acknowledged by the Jesuits themselves to be a failure.
Even at its first appearance, great efforts were made to suppress
it altogether, as likely to do more harm than good to
the Society; and in their references to it afterwards, we see
the disappointment which they felt. “There was lately published,”
says Richelet, “an answer to the Lettres Provinciales,
.bn 050.png
.pn +1
which professes to demolish them, but which, nevertheless,
will not do them much harm. Do you ask how?
The reason is, that although this answer shows the horrid
injustice, the abominable slanders, and injurious falsehoods of
the Provincials, against one of the most famous societies in
the Church, yet these Letters have so long, by their facetious
touches, got the laughers of all denominations on their side,
that they have acquired a credit and authority of which it
will be difficult to divest them. It must be confessed that
prejudice, on this occasion, is very unjust, very cruel, and
very obstinate in its verdict; since, though these Letters have
been condemned by popes, bishops, and divines, and burnt
by the hands of the hangman, yet they have taken such deep
root in people’s minds as to bid defiance to all these powers.”[60]
“The reply,” says another writer, “as may be easily
imagined, was not so well received as the Letters had been.
Father Daniel professed to have reason and truth on his side;
but his adversary had in his favor what goes much further
with men, the arms of ridicule and pleasantry.”[61] This, however,
is a mere begging of the question. <lang=la><i>Ridentem dicere
verum, quid vetat?</i></lang> It is quite possible that Father Daniel
may be lugubriously in the wrong, and Pascal laughingly in
the right. This was very triumphantly made out in the answer
to Daniel’s work, which appeared in the same year with
the <cite>Entretiens</cite>, under the title of “Apology for the Provincial
Letters, against the last Reply of the Jesuits, entitled
Conversations of Cleander and Eudoxus.” The author was
Don Mathieu Petitdidier, Benedictine of the congregation of
St. Vanne, who died bishop of Macra.[62] In this masterly performance,
the accusations of Daniel are shown to be totally
groundless, his answers jesuitical and evasive, and his arguments
untenable. The “Apology” was never answered, and
Daniel’s work sank out of sight.

.pm fns 60
Bayle, Dict., art. <cite>Pascal</cite>, note K.
.pm fne

.pm fns 61
Abbé de Castres, Les Trois Siècles, ii. 63.
.pm fne

.pm fns 62
Barbier, Dict. des Ouvrages Anon. et Pseudon.
.pm fne

Subsequent apologists of the Jesuits have followed the
.bn 051.png
.pn +1
line of defence adopted by Father Daniel. The continued
repetition of his charges, though they have been long since
disposed of, renders it necessary to advert to them. For the
strict fidelity of Pascal’s citations, we have not merely the
testimony of contemporary witnesses, but what will be to
many a sufficient guarantee, the solemn assertion of Pascal
himself. In a conversation that took place within a year of
his death, and which has been preserved by his sister, he thus
answers the chief articles of accusation that had been brought
against the Provincials:—

“I have been asked, first, if I repented of having written
the Provincial Letters? I answered that, far from repenting,
if I had it to do again, I would write them yet more
strongly.

“I have been asked, in the second place, why I named the
authors from whom I extracted these abominable passages
which I have cited? I answered, If I were in a town where
there were a dozen fountains, and I knew for certain that one
of them was poisoned, I should be under obligation to tell
the world not to draw from that fountain; and, as it might
be supposed that this was a mere fancy on my part, I should
be obliged to name him who had poisoned it, rather than expose
a whole city to the risk of death.

“I have been asked, thirdly, why I adopted an agreeable,
jocose, and entertaining style? I answered, If I had written
dogmatically, none but the learned would have read my
book; and they had no need of it, knowing how the matter
stood, at least as well as I did. I conceived it, therefore, my
duty to write, so that my Letters might be read by women,
and people in general, that they might know the danger of
all those maxims and propositions which were then spread
abroad, and admitted with so little hesitation.

“Finally, I have been asked, if I had myself read all the
books which I quoted? I answered, No. To do this, I had
need have passed the greater part of my life in reading very
bad books. But I have twice read Escobar throughout; and
for the others, I got several of my friends to read them; but
.bn 052.png
.pn +1
<em>I have never used a single passage without having read it myself
in the book quoted</em>, without having examined the case in
which it is brought forward, and without having read the
preceding and subsequent context, that I might not run the
risk of citing that for an answer which was in fact an objection,
which would have been very unjust and blamable.”[63]

.pm fns 63
Tabaraud, <cite>Dissertation sur la foi qui est due au Temoignage de
Pascal dans ses Lettres Provinciales</cite>, p. 12.—This work, published some
years ago in France, contains a complete justification of Pascal’s picture
of the Jesuits in the Provincials, accompanied with a mass of authorities.
The above sentiments have been introduced into Pascal’s
Thoughts. (See Craig’s translation, p. 185.)
.pm fne

If this solemn declaration, emitted by one whose heart was
a stranger to deceit, and whose shrewdness placed him beyond
the risk of delusion, is not accepted as sufficient, we
might refer to the mass of evidence collected at the time in
the <cite>Factums</cite> of the curés of Paris and Rouen, to the voluminous
notes of Nicole, and to the Apology of Petitdidier, in
which the citations made by Pascal are authenticated with a
carefulness which not only sets all suspicion at rest, but leaves
a large balance of credit in the author’s favor, by showing
that, so far from having reported the worst maxims of the
Jesuitical school, or placed them in the most odious light of
which they were susceptible, he has been extremely tender
towards them. But, indeed, the truth was placed beyond all
dispute, through the efforts of the celebrated Bossuet, in
1700, when, by a sentence of an assembly of the clergy of
France, the morals of the Jesuits, as exhibited in their “monstrous
maxims, which had been long the scandal of the
Church and of Europe,” were formally condemned, and when
it may be said that the Provincial Letters met at once their
full vindication and their final triumph.[64]

.pm fns 64
Vie de Bossuet, t. iv. p. 19; Tabaraud, Dissert. sur la foi, &c., p. 43.
.pm fne

Another class of objectors, whom the Jesuits have had
the good fortune to number among their apologists, are the
sceptical philosophers, whose native antipathy to Jansenism,
as a phase of serious religion, renders them willing to sacrifice
truth for the sake of a sneer at his disciples. D’Alembert
.bn 053.png
.pn +1
expresses his regret that Pascal did not lampoon Jesuits and
Jansenists alike;[65] and Voltaire, in the mere wantonness of
his cynical humor, if not from a more worthless motive, has
appended to his high panegyric on the Provincials, already
quoted, the following qualifications: “It is true that the
whole of Pascal’s book is founded upon a false principle. He
has artfully charged the whole Society with the extravagant
opinions of some few Spanish and Flemish Jesuits, which he
might with equal ease have detected among the casuists of
the Dominican and Franciscan orders; but the Jesuits alone
were the persons he wanted to attack. In these Letters he
endeavored to prove that they had a settled design to corrupt
the morals of mankind—a design which no sect or society
ever had, or ever could have. But his business was not
to be right, but to entertain the public.”[66] Every clause
here contains a fallacy. The charge of party-spirit, insinuated
throughout, is perfectly gratuitous. Never, perhaps,
was any man more free from this infirmity than Pascal.
That it was pure zeal for the morality of the Gospel which
engaged him to take up his pen against the Jesuits, can be
doubted by none but those who make it a point to call in
question the reality of all religious conviction.[67] Equally unfounded
is the imputation of levity. Pascal was earnest in
his raillery. A deep seriousness of purpose lurked under
the smile of his irony. Voltaire describes himself, not the author
of the Provincials, when he says that “his business was
not to be right, but to entertain the public.” As to Pascal
having “endeavored to prove that the Jesuits had a settled
design to corrupt the morals of mankind,” we are not surprised
at Father Daniel saying so; but it is unaccountable
how any but a Jesuit, who professed to have read the Letters,
could advance a theory so distinctly anticipated and disclaimed
.bn 054.png
.pn +1
in the Letters themselves. “Know, then,” it is said
in letter fifth, “that their object is not the corruption of
manners—that is <em>not their design</em>. But as little is it their
sole aim to reform them—that would be bad policy.”[68]
“Alas!” says the Jesuit, in letter sixth, “our main object,
no doubt, should have been to establish no other maxims
than those of the Gospel; and it is easy to see, from our
rules, that if we tolerate some degree of relaxation in others,
it is rather out of complaisance than <em>design</em>.”[69] In truth,
nothing is more clearly marked throughout the Letters than
this distinction between the design of the Society and the
tendency of its policy—a distinction which leaves very small
scope for the sage apophthegm of the philosophical historian.
There is some reason to think that Voltaire expressed himself
in this manner, with the view of procuring the recommendation
of Father Latour to enter the Academy—an object for
the accomplishment of which, it is well known, he made the
most unworthy concessions to the Jesuits.[70]

.pm fns 65
“The shocking doctrine of Jansenius and of St. Cyran, afforded
at least as much room for ridicule as the pliant doctrine of Molina, Tambourin,
and Vasquez.” (D’Alembert, Dest. of the Jesuits, p. 55.)
.pm fne

.pm fns 66
Voltaire, Siècle de Louis XIV., ii. 367.
.pm fne

.pm fns 67
Eichhorn, Geschichte der Lit., i. 426.
.pm fne

.pm fns 68
Prov. Let., #p. 118:Page_118#.
.pm fne

.pm fns 69
Ib., #p. 142:Page_142#.
.pm fne

.pm fns 70
Tabaraud, p. 117; Bord. Demoulin, Eloge de Pascal, Append.
.pm fne

Later critics, in speaking of the Provincials, have indulged
in a similar strain of vague depreciation; as a specimen of
which we might have referred to Schlegel, who talks of their
being “nothing more than a master-piece of sophistry,”[71]
and repeats the charge of profaneness, which Pascal has so
triumphantly refuted in his eleventh letter. It would be a
sad waste of time to answer this ridiculous objection. Nor
will it be surprising to those who know the history of Blanco
White, to find him indulging in a sceptical vein on this as on
other subjects. “Pascal and the Jansenist party,” he says,
“accused them of systematic laxity in their moral doctrines;
but the charge, I believe, though plausible in theory, was
perfectly groundless in practice. The strict, unbending maxims
of the Jansenists, by urging persons of all characters and
tempers on to an imaginary goal of perfection, bring quickly
their whole system to the decision of experience. A greater
.bn 055.png
.pn +1
knowledge of mankind made the Jesuits more cautious in the
culture of devotional feelings. They well knew that but few
can prudently engage in open hostility with what, in ascetic
language, is called the world.”[72] The strange mixture of
truth and error in this statement leaves an unfavorable impression
on the mind, the fallacy of which we feel ere we
have time to analyze it. It is true that nothing could be
more opposite to the laxity of the Jesuits than the asceticism
of Port-Royal. But it is doing injustice to Pascal to insinuate
that he measured Jesuitical morality by “the strict, unbending
maxims of the Jansenists;” and it is flagrantly untrue
that the Jesuits merely aimed at reducing monastic
enthusiasm to the standard of common sense and ordinary
life. We repeat that the real charge which Pascal substantiates
against them is, not that they softened the austerities of
the cloister, but that they sacrificed the eternal laws of morality—not
that they prudently suited their rules to men’s tempers,
but that they licensed the worst passions and propensities
of our nature—not that they declined urging all to forsake
the world (which he never expected), but that they
sought, for their own politic ends, to veil its impurities, and
countenance its evil customs.

.pm fns 71
Schlegel, Lectures on Hist. of Lit. ii. 188.
.pm fne

.pm fns 72
Letters from Spain, p. 86.
.pm fne

Disguising their hostility to science, under the mask of
friendship to literature, the Jesuits have succeeded in making
to themselves friends of many who are acquainted with them
only through the medium of their writings. And it is the
remarkable fact of our day, that, while on the Continent,
where they are practically known, the Jesuits have enlisted
against themselves the pens of its most eminent novelists,
historians, and philosophers, in Protestant England it is quite
the reverse. The most talented of our periodical writers
have exerted all their powers to white-wash them, to paint
and paper them, and set them off with ornamental designs;
and where they have not dared to defend, they have tried to
blunt the edge of censure against them. Following in the
.bn 056.png
.pn +1
same line of defence, a certain class of Protestant writers,
fond of historical paradox, and of appearing superior to vulgar
prejudices, have volunteered to protect the Jesuits. “No
man is a stranger to the fame of Pascal,” says Sir James
Macintosh; “but those who may desire to form a right judgment
on the contents of the <cite>Lettres Provinciales</cite> would do
well to cast a glance over the <cite>Entretiens d’Ariste et d’Eugenie</cite>,
by Bouhours, a Jesuit, who has ably vindicated his
order.”[73] Sir James had heard, perhaps, of Father Daniel’s
<cite>Entretiens de Cleandre et d’Eudoxe</cite>, but it is very evident
that he had never even “cast a glance over” that book; for
the work of Bouhours, which he has confounded with it, is a
philological treatise, which has no reference whatever to the
Provincial Letters; and yet he could say that the Jesuit
“has ably vindicated his order!” Next to the art which
the Jesuits have shown in smuggling themselves into places
of power and trust, is that by which they have succeeded in
hoodwinking the merely literary portion of society.

.pm fns 73
Macintosh, History of England, vol. ii. 359, note.
.pm fne

But, not to dwell longer on these objections, the Provincials
are liable to another charge, seldomer advanced, and
not so easily answered; which is, that the loose casuistical
morality denounced by Pascal was not confined to the
Jesuits, nor to any one of the orders of the Romish Church,
much less, as Voltaire says, to “a few Spanish and Flemish
Jesuits,” but was common to all the divines of that Church,
and was, in fact, the native offspring and inevitable growth
of the practices of confession and absolution. It is admitted
that the Jesuits were mainly responsible for its preservation
and propagation; that they have been the most zealous in
reducing it to practice; that, even after it had incurred the
anathemas of popes, bishops, and divines, and after it had
been disclaimed by all the other orders of the Church, the
Jesuits pertinaciously adhered to it; and that, even to this
day, they have identified themselves with the worst tenets
of the casuists. But Protestants writers have generally alleged,
.bn 057.png
.pn +1
not without reason, that the corruptions of casuistical
divinity may be traced from the days of Thomas Aquinas
and Cajetan, whom the Church of Rome owns as authorities;
that the “new casuists” merely carried the maxims of
their predecessors to their legitimate conclusions; and that
though condemned by some popes, the censure has been only
partial, and has been more than neutralized by the condemnation
of other works written against the morality of the
Jesuits. Thus, in a work entitled “Guimenius Amadeus,”
the author, who was the Jesuit Moya, boldly claimed the
sanction of the most venerated names in favor of the modern
casuists. This work, it is true, was condemned to the flames
in 1680, by Pope Innocent XI., who was favorable to the
Jansenists; but the Jesuits boast of having obtained other
papal constitutions, reversing the judgment of that pontiff,
whom they do not scruple to stigmatize with heresy.[74] It
cannot be denied that the Jesuits have all along succeeded
in obtaining for their system the sanction of the highest authorities
in the Church; while those works which undertook
to advocate a purer morality were printed clandestinely,
without privilege or approbation, under fictitious names of
authors and printers; nor can it be forgotten that the Provincial
Letters, the most powerful exposure of Jesuitical
morality that ever appeared, were censured at Rome, and
burnt by the hands of the executioner.[75] In short, and without
entering into the question so ingeniously handled by
Nicole and other Jansenists, whether the modern casuists
were justified in their excesses by the ancient schoolmen, it
is undeniable that this is the weakest point of the Provincials,
and one on which the thorough-going Jesuit occupies,
on popish principles, the most advantageous ground. The
disciples of Loyola constitute the very soul of the Papacy;
and they must be held as the genuine exponents of that atrocious
.bn 058.png
.pn +1
system of morals which, engendered in the privacy of
the cloister during the dark ages, reached its maturity in the
hands of a designing priesthood, who still find it too convenient
a tool for their purposes to part with it.

.pm fns 74
Eichhorn, Geschichte der Litter., vol. i. pp. 423–425; Weisman,
Hist. Eccl., vol. ii. 21; Jurieu, Prejugez Legitimes cont. le Papisme, p.
386; Claude, Defence of the Reformation, p. 29.
.pm fne

.pm fns 75
Jurieu, Justification de la Morale des Reformez, contre M. Arnauld,
i. p. 30.
.pm fne

There are other respects in which we cannot fail to detect,
throughout these Letters, the enfeebling and embarrassing
influence of Popery over the naturally ingenuous mind of the
author. Among all the maxims peculiar to the Jesuits, none
are more pernicious than those in which they have openly
taught that disobedience to the Papal See releases subjects
from their allegiance and oaths of fidelity to their sovereigns,
and authorizes them to put heretical rulers to death, even
by assassination.[76] On this point Pascal has failed to speak
out the whole truth. Whether it may have been from genuine
dread of heresy, or from a wish to spare the dignity of the
pope, it is easy to see the timidity, the circumspection, the
delicacy with which he touches on the point of papal authority.

.pm fns 76
A disingenuous attempt has been sometimes made to identify these
nefarious maxims with certain principles held by some of our reformers.
There is an essential difference between the natural right claimed, we
do not say with what justice, for subjects to proceed against their rulers
as tyrants, and the right assumed by the pope to depose rulers as heretics.
And it is equally easy to distinguish between the disallowed acts
of some fanatical individuals who have taken the law into their own
hands, and the atrocious deeds of such men as Chatel and Ravaillac,
who could plead the authority of Mariana the Jesuit, that “to put tyrannical
princes to death is not only a lawful, but a laudable, heroic,
and glorious action.” (Dalton’s Jesuits; their Principles and Acts,
London, 1843.) The Church of St. Ignatius at Rome is or was adorned,
it seems, with pictures of all the assassinations mentioned in Scripture,
which they have, most presumptuously, perverted in justification of
their feats in this department. (D’Alembert, Dest. of the Jesuits, p.
101.)
.pm fne

The Jansenists have been called the Methodists of the
Church of Rome; but the term is applicable to them rather
in the wide sense in which it has been applied, derisively, to
those who have sought reformation or aimed at superior
sanctity within the pale of an established Church, than as
applied to the party now known under that designation.
They disclaimed the title of Jansenists, as a nickname applied
.bn 059.png
.pn +1
to them by their adversaries. They held themselves to be
the true Catholics, the representatives of the Church as it
existed down, at least, to the days of St. Bernard, whom
they termed “the last of the fathers.” They ascribed a species
of semi-inspiration to the early fathers of the Church.
They reverenced the Scriptures, but received them at second-hand,
through the medium of tradition. To be a Catholic
and a Christian were with them convertible terms. Hence
the horror evinced by Pascal, in his concluding letters, at
the bare thought of “heresy existing in the Church.”
“Embarrassed at every step,” it has been well observed,
“by their professed submission to the authority of the popes,
galled and oppressed by their necessary acquiescence in the
flagrant errors of their Church, these good men made profession
of the great truths of Christianity under an incomparably
heavier weight of disadvantage than has been sustained
by any other class of Christians from the apostolic to the
present times. Enfeebled by the enthusiasm to which they
clung, the piety of these admirable men failed in the force
necessary to carry them through the conflict with their atrocious
enemy, ‘the Society.’ They were themselves in too
many points vulnerable to close fearlessly with their adversary,
and they grasped the sword of the Spirit in too infirm
a manner to drive home a deadly thrust.... The Jansenists
and the inmates of Port-Royal displayed a constancy
that would doubtless have carried them through the fires of
martyrdom; but the intellectual courage necessary to bear
them fearlessly through an examination of the errors of the
papal superstition, could spring only from a healthy form of
mind, utterly incompatible with the dotings of religious abstraction,
and the petty solicitudes of sackclothed abstinence.
The Jansenists had not such courage; if they worshipped
not the Beast, they cringed before him; he placed his
dragon-foot upon their necks, and their wisdom and their
virtues were lost forever to France.”[77]

.pm fns 77
Taylor, Natural Hist. of Enthusiasm, p. 256.
.pm fne
.bn 060.png
.pn +1

It is the policy of the Jesuits at present, as of old, to deny,
point-blank, the truthfulness of Pascal’s statements of their
doctrine and policy—to reiterate the exploded charge of his
having garbled his extracts—and, after affecting to join in
the laugh at his pleasantry, and to forgive, for the wit’s sake,
his injustice to their innocent and much-calumniated fathers,
to declare that, of course, he could not himself believe the
half of what he said against them, nor comprehend the profound
questions of casuistry on which he presumed to argue.
Under this affectation of charity, they dexterously evade Pascal’s
main charges, and slyly insinuate a vindication of the
heresies of which they have been convicted. Thus, in a late
publication, one of their number actually attempts to vindicate
the old Jesuitical doctrine of <em>probabilism</em>![78] At the
same time, they retain, with undiminished tenacity, the moral
maxims which Pascal condemns. The discovery lately made
of the Theology of Dens, still taught by the Jesuits in Ireland,
is a proof of this; for it is nothing more than a collection
of the most wicked and obscene maxims of casuistical
morality. Matters are no better in France. Dr. Gilly mentions
a publication issued at Lyons, in 1825, which is so bad
that the reviewer says, “We cannot, we dare not copy it; it
is a book to which the cases of conscience of Dr. Sanchez
were purity itself.”[79] The disclosures made still more recently
by M. Michelet and M. Quinet, are equally startling,
and will, in all probability, issue in another expulsion of the
Jesuits from France.

.pm fns 78
De l’Existence et de l’Institut des Jesuites. Par le R. P. de Ravignan,
de la Compagnie de Jesus. Paris, 1845, p. 83. <em>Probabilism</em> is
the doctrine, that if any opinion in morals has been held by any <em>grave
doctor</em> of the Church, it is <em>probably true</em>, and may be safely followed in
practice.
.pm fne

.pm fns 79
Gilly, Narrative of an Excursion to Piedmont, p. 156.
.pm fne

The policy of the Society, as hitherto exhibited in the
countries where they have settled, describes a regular cycle
of changes. Commencing with loud professions of charity,
of liberal views in politics, and of an accommodating code of
morals, they succeed in gaining popularity among the non-religious,
.bn 061.png
.pn +1
the dissipated, and the restless portion of society.
Availing themselves of this, and carefully concealing, in a
Protestant country, the more obnoxious parts of their creed,
their next step is to plant some of the most plausible of their
apostles in the principal localities, who are instructed to establish
schools and seminaries on the most charitable footing, so
as to ingratiate themselves with the poor, while they secure
the contributions of the rich; to attack the credit of the most
active and influential among the evangelical ministry; to revive
old slanders against the reformers; to disseminate tracts
of the most alluring description; and, when assailed in turn,
to deny everything and to grant nothing. Rising by these
means to power and influence, they gradually monopolize the
seats of learning and the halls of theology—they glide, with
noiseless steps, into closets, cabinets, and palaces—they become
the dictators of the public press, the persecutors of the
good, and the oppressors of all public and private liberty.
At length, their treacherous designs being discovered, they
rouse against themselves the storm of natural passions, which,
descending on them first as the authors of the mischief,
sweeps away along with them, in its headlong career, everything
that bears the aspect of that active and earnest religion,
under the guise of which they had succeeded in duping mankind.

What portion of this cycle they have reached among us,
it is needless to demonstrate. They have evidently got beyond
the first stage; and it is highly probable that, in proof
of it, the present publication may elicit a more than ordinary
exhibition of their skill in the science of defamation and denial.
It is far from being unlikely that, at the present point
of their revolution, they may find it their interest, after all
the mischief that Pascal has done them, and all the ill that
they have spoken against Pascal, to claim him as a good
Catholic, and take advantage of the prestige of his name to
insinuate, that the Church which could boast of such a man
is not to be lightly esteemed. And, in fact, it requires no
small exercise of caution to guard ourselves against such an
.bn 062.png
.pn +1
illusion. It is difficult to characterize Popery as it deserves
without apparent uncharitableness to individuals, such as
Fenelon and Pascal, who, though members of a corrupt
Church, possessed much of the spirit of true religion. But,
though it would be impossible to class such eminent and pious
men with an infidel cardinal or a Spanish inquisitor, it does
not follow that they are free from condemnation. It has been
justly remarked, that “their example has done much harm,
and been only the more pernicious from their eminence and
their virtues. It is difficult to calculate how much assistance
their well-merited reputation has given to prop the falling
cause of Popery, and to lengthen out the continuance of a
delusion the most lasting and the most dangerous that has
ever led mankind astray from the truth.”[80] With regard to
our author, in particular, it may be well to remember, that
he was virtuous without being indebted to his Church, and
evangelical in spite of his creed; that his piety, for which
he is so much esteemed by us, was the very quality that exposed
him to odium and suspicion from his own communion;
that the truths, for his adherence to which we would claim
him as a brother in Christ, were those which were reprobated
by the authorities of Rome; and that the following Letters,
for which he is so justly admired, were, by the same Church,
formally censured and ignominiously burnt, along with the
Bible which Pascal loved, and the martyrs who have suffered
for “the truth as it is in Jesus.”

.pm fns 80
Douglas on Errors in Religion, p. 113.
.pm fne

.fm lz=t

.bn 063.png
.pn 63

.pb

.sp 4
.ce
<xxl>THE PROVINCIAL LETTERS.</xxl>

.sp 4
.h2 nobreak
LETTER I.

.fs 80%
.in +3
.ti -3
DISPUTES IN THE SORBONNE, AND THE INVENTION OF PROXIMATE
POWER—A TERM EMPLOYED BY THE JESUITS TO PROCURE THE
CENSURE OF M. ARNAULD.
.in
.fs

.sp 2

.rj
<sc>Paris</sc>, <i>January 23, 1656</i>.

<sc>Sir</sc>,—We were entirely mistaken. It was only yesterday
that I was undeceived. Until that time I had labored under
the impression that the disputes in the Sorbonne were vastly
important, and deeply affected the interests of religion. The
frequent convocations of an assembly so illustrious as that of
the Theological Faculty of Paris, attended by so many extraordinary
and unprecedented circumstances, led one to form
such high expectations, that it was impossible to help coming
to the conclusion that the subject was most extraordinary.
You will be greatly surprised, however, when you learn from
the following account, the issue of this grand demonstration,
which, having made myself perfectly master of the subject,
I shall be able to tell you in very few words.

Two questions, then, were brought under examination; the
one a question of fact, the other a question of right.

The question of fact consisted in ascertaining whether M.
Arnauld was guilty of presumption, for having asserted in
his second letter[81] that he had carefully perused the book of
.bn 064.png
.pn +1
Jansenius, and that he had not discovered the propositions
condemned by the late pope; but that, nevertheless, as he
condemned these propositions wherever they might occur, he
condemned them in Jansenius, if they were really contained
in that work.[82]

.pm fns 81
Anthony Arnauld, or Arnaud, priest and doctor of the Sorbonne,
was the son of Anthony Arnauld, a famous advocate, and born at Paris,
February 6, 1612. He early distinguished himself in philosophy and
divinity, advocating the doctrines of Augustine and Port-Royal, and opposing
those of the Jesuits. The disputes concerning grace which
broke out about 1643 in the University of Paris, served to foment the
mutual animosity between M. Arnauld and the Jesuits, who entertained
a hereditary feud against the whole family, from the active part taken
by their father against the Society in the close of the preceding century.
In 1655 it happened that a certain duke, who was educating his grand-daughter
at Port-Royal, the Jansenist monastery, and kept a Jansenist
abbé in his house, on presenting himself for confession to a priest under
the influence of the Jesuits, was refused absolution, unless he promised
to recall his grand-daughter and discard his abbé. This produced two
letters from M. Arnauld, in the second of which he exposed the calumnies
and falsities with which the Jesuits had assailed him in a multitude
of pamphlets. This is the letter referred to in the text.
.pm fne

.pm fns 82
The book which occasioned these disputes was entitled <cite>Augustinus</cite>,
and was written by Cornelius Jansenius or Jansen, bishop of Ypres,
and published after his death. Five propositions, selected from this
work, were condemned by the pope; and armed with these, as with a
scourge, the Jesuits continued to persecute the Jansenists till they accomplished
their ruin.
.pm fne

The question here was, if he could, without presumption,
entertain a doubt that these propositions were in Jansenius,
after the bishops had declared that they were.

The matter having been brought before the Sorbonne, seventy-one
doctors undertook his defence, maintaining that the
only reply he could possibly give to the demands made upon
him in so many publications, calling on him to say if he held
that these propositions were in that book, was, that he had
not been able to find them, but that if they were in the book,
he condemned them in the book.

Some even went a step farther, and protested that, after
all the search they had made into the book, they had never
stumbled upon these propositions, and that they had, on the
contrary, found sentiments entirely at variance with them.
They then earnestly begged that, if any doctor present had
discovered them, he would have the goodness to point them
out; adding, that what was so easy could not reasonably be
refused, as this would be the surest way to silence the whole
.bn 065.png
.pn +1
of them, M. Arnauld included; but this proposal has been
uniformly declined. So much for the one side.

On the other side are eighty secular doctors, and some
forty mendicant friars, who have condemned M. Arnauld’s
proposition, without choosing to examine whether he has spoken
truly or falsely—who, in fact, have declared, that they
have nothing to do with the veracity of his proposition, but
simply with its temerity.

Besides these, there were fifteen who were not in favor of
the censure, and who are called Neutrals.

Such was the issue of the question of fact, regarding
which, I must say, I give myself very little concern. It does
not affect my conscience in the least whether M. Arnauld is
presumptuous, or the reverse; and should I be tempted, from
curiosity, to ascertain whether these propositions are contained
in Jansenius, his book is neither so very rare nor so
very large as to hinder me from reading it over from beginning
to end, for my own satisfaction, without consulting the
Sorbonne on the matter.

Were it not, however, for the dread of being presumptuous
myself, I really think that I would be disposed to adopt the
opinion which has been formed by the most of my acquaintances,
who, though they have believed hitherto on common
report that the propositions were in Jansenius, begin now to
suspect the contrary, owing to this strange refusal to point
them out—a refusal, the more extraordinary to me, as I have
not yet met with a single individual who can say that he has
discovered them in that work. I am afraid, therefore, that
this censure will do more harm than good, and that the impression
which it will leave on the minds of all who know its
history will be just the reverse of the conclusion that has
been come to. The truth is, the world has become sceptical
of late, and will not believe things till it sees them. But,
as I said before, this point is of very little moment, as it has
no concern with religion.[83]

.pm fns 83
And yet “the question of fact,” which Pascal professes to treat so
lightly, became the turning point of all the subsequent persecutions directed
against the unhappy Port-Royalists! Those who have read the
sad tale of the demolition of Port-Royal, will recollect with a sigh, the
sufferings inflicted on the poor scholars and pious nuns of that establishment
solely on the ground that, from respect to Jansenius and to a
good conscience they would not subscribe a formulary acknowledging
the five propositions to be contained in his book.—(See Narrative of
the Demolition of the Monastery of Port-Royal, by Mary Anne Schimmelpenninck
p. 170, &c.)
.pm fne
.bn 066.png
.pn +1

The question of right, from its affecting the faith, appears
much more important, and, accordingly, I took particular
pains in examining it. You will be relieved, however, to find
that it is of as little consequence as the former.

The point of dispute here, was an assertion of M. Arnauld’s
in the same letter, to the effect, “that the grace without
which we can do nothing, was wanting to St. Peter at his
fall.” You and I supposed that the controversy here would
turn upon the great principles of grace; such as, whether
grace is given to all men? or, if it is efficacious of itself?
But we were quite mistaken. You must know I have become
a great theologian within this short time; and now for
the proofs of it!

To ascertain the matter with certainty, I repaired to my
neighbor, M. N——, doctor of Navarre, who, as you are
aware, is one of the keenest opponents of the Jansenists, and
my curiosity having made me almost as keen as himself, I
asked him if they would not formally decide at once that
“grace is given to all men,” and thus set the question at
rest. But he gave me a sore rebuff, and told me that that
was not the point; that there were some of his party who
held that grace was not given to all; that the examiners
themselves had declared, in a full assembly of the Sorbonne,
that that opinion was <em>problematical</em>; and that he himself
held the same sentiment, which he confirmed by quoting to
me what he called that celebrated passage of St. Augustine:
“We know that grace is not given to all men.”

I apologized for having misapprehended his sentiment, and
requested him to say if they would not at least condemn that
other opinion of the Jansenists which is making so much
noise, “That grace is efficacious of itself, and invincibly determines
.bn 067.png
.pn +1
our will to what is good.” But in this second query
I was equally unfortunate. “You know nothing about the
matter,” he said; “that is not a heresy—it is an orthodox
opinion; all the Thomists[84] maintain it; and I myself have
defended it in my Sorbonic thesis.”[85]

.pm fns 84
The Thomists were so called after Thomas Aquinas, the celebrated
“Angelic Doctor” of the schools. He flourished in the thirteenth century,
and was opposed in the following century, by Duns Scotus, a
British, some say a Scottish, monk of the order of St. Francis. This
gave rise to a fierce and protracted controversy, in the course of which
the Franciscans took the side of Duns Scotus, and were called Scotists;
while the Dominicans espoused the cause of Thomas Aquinas, and
were sometimes called Thomists.
.pm fne

.pm fns 85
<i>Sorbonique</i>—an act or thesis of divinity, delivered in the hall of the
college of the Sorbonne by candidates for the degree of doctor.
.pm fne

I did not venture again to propose my doubts, and yet I
was as far as ever from understanding where the difficulty
lay; so, at last, in order to get at it, I begged him to tell
me where, then, lay the heresy of M. Arnauld’s proposition?
“It lies here,” said he, “that he does not acknowledge that
the righteous have the power of obeying the commandments
of God, in the manner in which we understand it.”

On receiving this piece of information, I took my leave of
him; and, quite proud at having discovered the knot of the
question, I sought M. N——, who is gradually getting better,
and was sufficiently recovered to conduct me to the house
of his brother-in-law, who is a Jansenist, if ever there was
one, but a very good man notwithstanding. Thinking to insure
myself a better reception, I pretended to be very high
on what I took to be his side, and said: “Is it possible that
the Sorbonne has introduced into the Church such an error
as this, ‘that all the righteous have always the power of
obeying the commandments of God?’”

“What say you?” replied the doctor. “Call you that an
error—a sentiment so Catholic that none but Lutherans and
Calvinists impugn it?”

“Indeed!” said I, surprised in my turn; “so you are not
of their opinion?”
.bn 068.png
.pn +1

“No,” he replied; “we anathematize it as heretical and
impious.”[86]

.pm fns 86
The Jansenists, in their dread of being classed with Lutherans and
Calvinists, condescended to quibble on this question. In reality, as we
shall see, they agreed with the Reformers for they denied that any could
actually obey the commandments without efficacious grace.
.pm fne

Confounded by this reply, I soon discovered that I had
overacted the Jansenist, as I had formerly overdone the
Molinist.[87] But not being sure if I had rightly understood
him, I requested him to tell me frankly if he held “that the
righteous have always a real power to observe the divine
precepts?” Upon this the good man got warm (but it was
with a holy zeal), and protested that he would not disguise
his sentiments on any consideration—that such was, indeed,
his belief, and that he and all his party would defend it to
the death, as the pure doctrine of St. Thomas, and of St.
Augustine their master.

.pm fns 87
<i>Molinist.</i> The Jesuits were so called, in this dispute, after Lewis
Molina, a famous Jesuit of Spain, who published a work, entitled <cite>Concordia
Gratiæ et Liberi Arbitrii</cite>, in which he professed to have found
out a new way of reconciling the freedom of the human will with the
divine prescience. This new invention was termed <lang=la><i>Scientia Media</i></lang>, or
middle knowledge. All who adopted the sentiments of Molina, whether
Jesuits or not, were termed Molinists.
.pm fne

This was spoken so seriously as to leave me no room for
doubt; and under this impression I returned to my first doctor,
and said to him, with an air of great satisfaction, that I
was sure there would be peace in the Sorbonne very soon;
that the Jansenists were quite at one with them in reference
to the power of the righteous to obey the commandments of
God; that I could pledge my word for them, and could
make them seal it with their blood.

“Hold there!” said he. “One must be a theologian to
see the point of this question. The difference between us is
so subtle, that it is with some difficulty we can discern it ourselves—you
will find it rather too much for your powers of
comprehension. Content yourself, then, with knowing that
it is very true the Jansenists will tell you that all the righteous
have always the power of obeying the commandments;
that is not the point in dispute between us; but mark you,
.bn 069.png
.pn +1
they will not tell you that that power is <em>proximate</em>. That
is the point.”

This was a new and unknown word to me. Up to this
moment I had managed to understand matters, but that term
involved me in obscurity; and I verily believe that it has
been invented for no other purpose than to mystify. I requested
him to give me an explanation of it, but he made a
mystery of it, and sent me back, without any further satisfaction,
to demand of the Jansenists if they would admit this
<em>proximate power</em>. Having charged my memory with the
phrase (as to my understanding, that was out of the question),
I hastened with all possible expedition, fearing that I
might forget it, to my Jansenist friend, and accosted him,
immediately after our first salutations, with: “Tell me, pray,
if you admit <em>the proximate power</em>?” He smiled, and replied,
coldly: “Tell me yourself in what sense you understand it,
and I may then inform you what I think of it.” As my
knowledge did not extend quite so far, I was at a loss what
reply to make; and yet, rather than lose the object of my
visit, I said at random: “Why, I understand it in the sense
of the Molinists.” “To which of the Molinists do you refer
me?” replied he, with the utmost coolness. I referred him
to the whole of them together, as forming one body, and
animated by one spirit.

“You know very little about the matter,” returned he.
“So far are they from being united in sentiment, that some
of them are diametrically opposed to each other. But, being
all united in the design to ruin M. Arnauld, they have resolved
to agree on this term <em>proximate</em>, which both parties
might use indiscriminately, though they understand it diversely,
that thus, by a similarity of language, and an apparent
conformity, they may form a large body, and get up a
majority to crush him with the greater certainty.”

This reply filled me with amazement; but without imbibing
these impressions of the malicious designs of the Molinists,
which I am unwilling to believe on his word, and with
which I have no concern, I set myself simply to ascertain the
.bn 070.png
.pn +1
various senses which they give to that mysterious word <em>proximate</em>.
“I would enlighten you on the subject with all my
heart,” he said; “but you would discover in it such a mass
of contrariety and contradiction, that you would hardly believe
me. You would suspect me. To make sure of the
matter, you had better learn it from some of themselves; and
I shall give you some of their addresses. You have only to
make a separate visit to one called M. le Moine,[88] and to
Father Nicolai.”[89]

.pm fns 88
<i>Pierre le Moine</i> was a doctor of the Sorbonne, whom Cardinal
Richelieu employed to write against Jansenius. This Jesuit was the
author of several works which display considerable talent, though little
principle. His book on Grace was forcibly answered, and himself
somewhat severely handled, in a work entitled “An Apology for the
Holy Fathers,” which he suspected to be written by Arnauld. It was
Le Moine who, according to Nicole, had the chief share in raising the
storm against Arnauld, of whom he was the bitter and avowed enemy.
.pm fne

.pm fns 89
<i>Father Nicolai</i> was a Dominican—an order of friars who professed
to be followers of St. Thomas. He is here mentioned as a representative
of his class; but Nicole informs us that he abandoned the principles
of his order, and became a Molinist, or an abettor of Pelagianism.
.pm fne

“I have no acquaintance with any of these persons,”
said I.

“Let me see, then,” he replied, “if you know any of those
whom I shall name to you; they all agree in sentiment with
M. le Moine.”

I happened, in fact, to know some of them.

“Well, let us see if you are acquainted with any of the
Dominicans whom they call the ‘New Thomists,’[90] for they
are all the same with Father Nicolai.”

.pm fns 90
<i>New Thomists.</i> It is more difficult to trace or remember the various
sects into which the Roman Church is divided, than those of the
Protestant Church. The New Thomists were the disciples of Diego
Alvarez, a theologian of the order of St. Dominic, who flourished in the
sixteenth and seventeenth centuries. He was sent from Spain to Rome
in 1596, to defend the doctrine of grace against Molina, and distinguished
himself in the Congregation <i>De Auxiliis</i>. The New Thomists
contended for <em>efficacious grace</em>, but admitted at the same time, a <em>sufficient
grace</em>, which was given to all, and yet not sufficient for any actual
performance without the efficacious. The ridiculous incongruity of this
doctrine is admirably exposed by Pascal in his second letter.
.pm fne

I knew some of them also whom he named; and, resolved
to profit by this counsel, and to investigate the matter, I
took my leave of him, and went immediately to one of the
.bn 071.png
.pn +1
disciples of M. le Moine. I begged him to inform me what
it was to have the <em>proximate power</em> of doing a thing.

“It is easy to tell you that,” he replied; “it is merely to
have all that is necessary for doing it in such a manner that
nothing is wanting to performance.”

“And so,” said I, “to have the proximate power of crossing
a river, for example, is to have a boat, boatmen, oars,
and all the rest, so that nothing is wanting?”

“Exactly so,” said the monk.

“And to have the proximate power of <em>seeing</em>,” continued
I, “must be to have good eyes and the light of day; for a
person with good sight in the dark would not have the proximate
power of seeing, according to you, as he would want
the light, without which one cannot see?”

“Precisely,” said he.

“And consequently,” returned I, “when you say that all
the righteous have the proximate power of observing the
commandments of God, you mean that they have always all
the grace necessary for observing them, so that nothing is
wanting to them on the part of God.”

“Stay there,” he replied; “they have always all that is
necessary for observing the commandments, or at least for
asking it of God.”

“I understand you,” said I; “they have all that is necessary
for praying to God to assist them, without requiring any
new grace from God to enable them to pray.”

“You have it now,” he rejoined.

“But is it not necessary that they have an efficacious
grace, in order to pray to God?”

“No,” said he; “not according to M. le Moine.”

To lose no time, I went to the Jacobins,[91] and requested
.bn 072.png
.pn +1
an interview with some whom I knew to be New Thomists,
and I begged them to tell me what “proximate power”
was. “Is it not,” said I, “that power to which nothing is
wanting in order to act?”

.pm fns 91
<i>Jacobins</i>, another name for the Dominicans in France, where they
were so called from the street in Paris, Rue de St. Jacques, where their
first convent was erected, in the year 1218. In England they were
called Black Friars. Their founder was Dominick, a Spaniard. His
mother, it is said, dreamt, before his birth, that she was to be delivered
of a wolf with a torch in his mouth. The augury was realized in the
barbarous humor of Dominick, and the massacres which he occasioned
in various parts of the world, by preaching up crusades against the
heretics. He was the founder of the Inquisition, and his order was, before
the Reformation, what the Jesuits were after it—the soul of the
Romish hierarchy, and the bitterest enemies of the truth.
.pm fne

“No,” said they.

“Indeed! fathers,” said I; “if anything is wanting to that
power, do you call it proximate? Would you say, for instance,
that a man in the night time, and without any light,
had the proximate power of seeing?”

“Yes, indeed, he would have it, in our opinion, if he is
not blind.”

“I grant that,” said I; “but M. le Moine understands it
in a different manner.”

“Very true,” they replied; “but so it is that we understand
it.”

“I have no objections to that,” I said; “for I never quarrel
about a name, provided I am apprized of the sense in
which it is understood. But I perceive from this, that when
you speak of the righteous having always the proximate
power of praying to God, you understand that they require
another supply for praying, without which they will never
pray.”

“Most excellent!” exclaimed the good fathers, embracing
me; “exactly the thing; for they must have, besides, an
efficacious grace bestowed upon all, and which determines
their wills to pray; and it is heresy to deny the necessity of
that efficacious grace in order to pray.”

“Most excellent!” cried I, in return; “but, according to
you, the Jansenists are Catholics, and M. le Moine a heretic;
for the Jansenists maintain that, while the righteous have
power to pray, they require nevertheless an efficacious grace;
and this is what you approve. M. le Moine, again, maintains
that the righteous may pray without efficacious grace; and
this is what you condemn.”
.bn 073.png
.pn +1

“Ay,” said they; “but M. le Moine calls that power
<em>proximate power</em>.”

“How now! fathers,” I exclaimed; “this is merely playing
with words, to say that you are agreed as to the common
terms which you employ, while you differ with them as to
the sense of these terms.”

The fathers made no reply; and at this juncture, who
should come in but my old friend the disciple of M. le Moine!
I regarded this at the time as an extraordinary piece of good
fortune; but I have discovered since then that such meetings
are not rare—that, in fact, they are constantly mixing in
each other’s society.[92]

.pm fns 92
This is a sly hit at the Dominicans for combining with their natural
enemies the Jesuits, in order to accomplish the ruin of M. Arnauld.
.pm fne

“I know a man,” said I, addressing myself to M. le
Moine’s disciple, “who holds that all the righteous have always
the power of praying to God, but that, notwithstanding
this, they will never pray without an efficacious grace which
determines them, and which God does not always give to all
the righteous. Is he a heretic?”

“Stay,” said the doctor; “you might take me by surprise.
Let us go cautiously to work. <lang=la><i>Distinguo.</i></lang>[93] If he
call that power <em>proximate power</em>, he will be a Thomist, and
therefore a Catholic; if not, he will be a Jansenist, and
therefore a heretic.”

.pm fns 93
<lang=la><i>Distinguo.</i></lang> “I draw a distinction”—a humorous allusion to the
endless distinctions of the Aristotelian school, in which the writings of
the Casuists abounded, and by means of which they may be said to
have more frequently eluded than elucidated the truth. M. le Moine
was particularly famous for these <em>distinguos</em>, frequently introducing
three or four of them in succession on one head; and the disciple in the
test is made to echo the favorite phrase of his master.
.pm fne

“He calls it neither proximate nor non-proximate,” said I.

“Then he is a heretic,” quoth he; “I refer you to these
good fathers if he is not.”

I did not appeal to them as judges, for they had already
nodded assent; but I said to them: “He refuses to admit
that word <em>proximate</em>, because he can meet with nobody who
will explain it to him.”
.bn 074.png
.pn +1

Upon this one of the fathers was on the point of offering
his definition of the term, when he was interrupted by M. le
Moine’s disciple, who said to him: “Do you mean, then, to
renew our broils? Have we not agreed not to explain that
word <em>proximate</em>, but to use it on both sides without saying
what it signifies?” To this the Jacobin gave his assent.

I was thus let into the whole secret of their plot; and rising
to take my leave of them, I remarked: “Indeed, fathers,
I am much afraid this is nothing better than pure chicanery;
and whatever may be the result of your convocations, I venture
to predict that, though the censure should pass, peace
will not be established. For though it should be decided
that the syllables of that word <em>proximate</em> should be pronounced,
who does not see that, the meaning not being
explained, each of you will be disposed to claim the victory?
The Jacobins will contend that the word is to be understood
in their sense; M. le Moine will insist that it must be taken
in his; and thus there will be more wrangling about the explanation
of the word than about its introduction. For, after
all, there would be no great danger in adopting it without
any sense, seeing it is through the sense only that it can do
any harm. But it would be unworthy of the Sorbonne and
of theology to employ equivocal and captious terms without
giving any explanation of them. In short, fathers, tell me,
I entreat you, for the last time, what is necessary to be believed
in order to be a good Catholic?”

“You must say,” they all vociferated simultaneously,
“that all the righteous have the <em>proximate power</em>, abstracting
from it all sense—from the sense of the Thomists and the
sense of other divines.”

“That is to say,” I replied, in taking leave of them, “that
I must pronounce that word to avoid being the heretic of a
name. For, pray, is this a Scripture word?” “No,” said
they. “Is it a word of the Fathers, the Councils, or the
Popes?” “No.” “Is the word, then, used by St. Thomas?”
“No.” “What necessity, therefore, is there for using it,
since it has neither the authority of others nor any sense of
.bn 075.png
.pn +1
itself?” “You are an opinionative fellow,” said they; “but
you shall say it, or you shall be a heretic, and M. Arnauld
into the bargain; for we are the majority, and should it be
necessary, we can bring a sufficient number of Cordeliers[94]
into the field to carry the day.”

.pm fns 94
<i>Cordeliers</i>, a designation of the Franciscans, or monks of the order
of St. Francis.
.pm fne

On hearing this solid argument, I took my leave of them,
to write you the foregoing account of my interview, from
which you will perceive that the following points remain undisputed
and uncondemned by either party. <em>First</em>, That grace
is not given to all men. <em>Second</em>, That all the righteous have always
the power of obeying the divine commandments. <em>Third</em>,
That they require, nevertheless, in order to obey them, and
even to pray, an efficacious grace, which invincibly determines
their will. <em>Fourth</em>, That this efficacious grace is not always
granted to all the righteous, and that it depends on the pure
mercy of God. So that, after all, the truth is safe, and nothing
runs any risk but that word without the sense, <em>proximate</em>.

Happy the people who are ignorant of its existence!—happy
those who lived before it was born!—for I see no
help for it, unless the gentlemen of the Academy,[95] by an act
of absolute authority, banish that barbarous term, which
causes so many divisions, from beyond the precincts of the
Sorbonne. Unless this be done, the censure appears certain;
but I can easily see that it will do no other harm than diminish
the credit[96] of the Sorbonne, and deprive it of that
authority which is so necessary to it on other occasions.

.pm fns 95
The Royal Academy, which compiled the celebrated dictionary of
the French language, and was held at that time to be the great umpire
in literature.
.pm fne

.pm fns 96
The edition of 1657 had it, <lang=fr><i>Rendre la Sorbonne meprisable</i></lang>—“Render
the Sorbonne contemptible”—an expression much more just, but
which the editors durst not allow to remain in the subsequent editions.
.pm fne

Meanwhile, I leave you at perfect liberty to hold by the
word <em>proximate</em> or not, just as you please; for I love you
too much to persecute you under that pretext. If this account
is not displeasing to you, I shall continue to apprize
you of all that happens.—I am, &c.

.fm lz=t

.bn 076.png
.pn +1

.sp 4
.h2
LETTER II.

.fs 80%
.ce
OF SUFFICIENT GRACE.
.fs

.sp 2

.rj
<sc>Paris</sc>, <i>January 29, 1656</i>.

<sc>Sir</sc>,—Just as I had sealed up my last letter, I received a
visit from our old friend M. N——. Nothing could have
happened more luckily for my curiosity; for he is thoroughly
informed in the questions of the day, and is completely in
the secret of the Jesuits, at whose houses, including those of
their leading men, he is a constant visitor. After having
talked over the business which brought him to my house, I
asked him to state, in a few words, what were the points in
dispute between the two parties.

He immediately complied, and informed me that the principal
points were two—the <em>first</em> about the <em>proximate power</em>,
and the <em>second</em> about <em>sufficient grace</em>. I have enlightened
you on the first of these points in my former letter, and shall
now speak of the second.

In one word, then, I found that their difference about sufficient
grace may be defined thus: The Jesuits maintain that
there is a grace given generally to all men, subject in such a
way to free-will that the will renders it efficacious or inefficacious
at its pleasure, without any additional aid from God,
and without wanting anything on his part in order to acting
effectively; and hence they term this grace <em>sufficient</em>, because
it suffices of itself for action. The Jansenists, on the other
hand, will not allow that any grace is actually sufficient which
is not also efficacious; that is, that all those kinds of grace
which do not determine the will to act effectively are insufficient
for action; for they hold that a man can never act without
<em>efficacious grace</em>.

Such are the points in debate between the Jesuits and the
.bn 077.png
.pn +1
Jansenists; and my next object was to ascertain the doctrine
of the New Thomists.[97] “It is rather an odd one,” he
said; “they agree with the Jesuits in admitting a <em>sufficient
grace</em> given to all men; but they maintain, at the same time,
that no man can act with this grace alone, but that, in order
to this, he must receive from God an efficacious grace which
really determines his will to the action, and which God does
not grant to all men.” “So that, according to this doctrine,”
said I, “this grace is <em>sufficient</em> without being sufficient.”
“Exactly so,” he replied; “for if it suffices, there
is no need of anything more for acting; and if it does not
suffice, why—it is not sufficient.”

.pm fns 97
The Dominicans.
.pm fne

“But,” asked I, “where, then, is the difference between
them and the Jansenists?” “They differ in this,” he replied,
“that the Dominicans have this good qualification, that
they do not refuse to say that all men have the <em>sufficient
grace</em>.” “I understand you,” returned I; “but they say it
without thinking it; for they add that, in order to action, we
must have an <em>efficacious grace which is not given to all</em>; consequently,
if they agree with the Jesuits in the use of a term
which has no sense, they differ from them, and coincide with
the Jansenists in the substance of the thing.” “That is
very true,” said he. “How, then,” said I, “are the Jesuits
united with them? and why do they not combat them as
well as the Jansenists, since they will always find powerful
antagonists in these men, who, by maintaining the necessity
of the efficacious grace which determines the will, will prevent
them from establishing that grace which they hold to
be of itself sufficient?”

“The Dominicans are too powerful,” he replied, “and the
Jesuits are too politic, to come to an open rupture with them.
The Society is content with having prevailed on them so
far as to admit the name of <em>sufficient grace</em>, though they
understand it in another sense; by which manœuvre they
gain this advantage, that they will make their opinion appear
untenable, as soon as they judge it proper to do so. And
.bn 078.png
.pn +1
this will be no difficult matter; for, let it be once granted
that all men have the sufficient graces, nothing can be more
natural than to conclude, that the efficacious grace is not necessary
to action—the sufficiency of the general grace precluding
the necessity of all others. By saying <em>sufficient</em> we
express all that is necessary for action; and it will serve little
purpose for the Dominicans to exclaim that they attach another
sense to the expression; the people, accustomed to the
common acceptation of that term, would not even listen to
their explanation. Thus the Society gains a sufficient advantage
from the expression which has been adopted by the
Dominicans, without pressing them any further; and were
you but acquainted with what passed under Popes Clement
VIII. and Paul V., and knew how the Society was thwarted
by the Dominicans in the establishment of the sufficient
grace, you would not be surprised to find that it avoids embroiling
itself in quarrels with them, and allows them to hold
their own opinion, provided that of the Society is left untouched;
and more especially, when the Dominicans countenance
its doctrine, by agreeing to employ, on all public occasions,
the term <em>sufficient grace</em>.

“The Society,” he continued, “is quite satisfied with their
complaisance. It does not insist on their denying the necessity
of efficacious grace; this would be urging them too far.
People should not tyrannize over their friends; and the Jesuits
have gained quite enough. The world is content with
words; few think of searching into the nature of things; and
thus the name of <em>sufficient grace</em> being adopted on both sides,
though in different senses, there is nobody, except the most
subtle theologians, who ever dreams of doubting that the
thing signified by that word is held by the Jacobins as well
as by the Jesuits; and the result will show that these last are
not the greatest dupes.”[98]

.pm fns 98
<lang=fr><i>Et la suite fera voir que ces derniers ne sont pas les plus dupes.</i></lang>
This clause, which appears in the last Paris edition, is wanting in the
ordinary editions. The following sentence seems to require it.
.pm fne

I acknowledged that they were a shrewd class of people,
.bn 079.png
.pn +1
these Jesuits; and, availing myself of his advice, I went
straight to the Jacobins, at whose gate I found one of my
good friends, a staunch Jansenist (for you must know I have
got friends among all parties), who was calling for another
monk, different from him whom I was in search of. I prevailed
on him, however, after much entreaty, to accompany
me, and asked for one of my New Thomists. He was delighted
to see me again. “How now! my dear father,” I
began, “it seems it is not enough that all men have a <em>proximate
power</em>, with which they can never act with effect; they
must have besides this a <em>sufficient grace</em>, with which they
can act as little. Is not that the doctrine of your school?”
“It is,” said the worthy monk; “and I was upholding it
this very morning in the Sorbonne. I spoke on the point
during my whole half-hour; and but for the <em>sand-glass</em>, I
bade fair to have reversed that wicked proverb, now so current
in Paris: ‘He votes without speaking, like a monk in the
Sorbonne.’”[99] “What do you mean by your half-hour and
your sand-glass?” I asked; “do they cut your speeches by
a certain measure?” “Yes,” said he, “they have done so
for some days past.” “And do they oblige you to speak
for half an hour?” “No; we may speak as little as we
please.” “But not as much as you please,” said I. “O
what a capital regulation for the boobies! what a blessed
excuse for those who have nothing worth the saying! But,
to return to the point, father; this grace given to all men is
<em>sufficient</em>, is it not?” “Yes,” said he. “And yet it has no
effect without <em>efficacious grace</em>?” “None whatever,” he replied.
“And all men have the sufficient,” continued I, “and
all have not the efficacious?” “Exactly,” said he. “That
is,” returned I, “all have enough of grace, and all have not
.bn 080.png
.pn +1
enough of it—that is, this grace suffices, though it does not
suffice—that is, it is sufficient in name, and insufficient in
effect! In good sooth, father, this is particularly subtle
doctrine! Have you forgotten, since you retired to the cloister,
the meaning attached, in the world you have quitted,
to the word <em>sufficient</em>?—don’t you remember that it includes
all that is necessary for acting? But no, you cannot have
lost all recollection of it; for, to avail myself of an illustration
which will come home more vividly to your feelings, let
us suppose that you were supplied with no more than two
ounces of bread and a glass of water daily, would you be
quite pleased with your prior were he to tell you that this
would be sufficient to support you, under the pretext that,
along with something else, which, however, he would not
give you, you would have all that would be necessary to
support you? How, then, can you allow yourselves to say
that all men have sufficient grace for acting, while you admit
that there is another grace absolutely necessary to acting
which all men have not? Is it because this is an unimportant
article of belief, and you leave all men at liberty to believe
that efficacious grace is necessary or not, as they choose?
Is it a matter of indifference to say, that with sufficient grace
a man may really act?” “How!” cried the good man;
“indifference!—it is heresy—formal heresy. The necessity
of <em>efficacious grace</em> for acting effectively, is a point of <em>faith</em>—it
is heresy to deny it.”

.pm fns 99
<lang=fr><i>Il opine du bonnet comme un moine en Sorbonne</i></lang>—literally, “He
votes with his cap like a monk in the Sorbonne”—alluding to the custom
in that place of taking off the cap when a member was not disposed
to speak, or in token of agreement with the rest. The half-hour sand-glass
was a trick of the Jesuits, or Molinist party, to prevent their opponents
from entering closely into the merits of the controversy, which
required frequent references to the fathers. (Nicole, i. 184.)
.pm fne

“Where are we now?” I exclaimed; “and which side am
I to take here? If I deny the sufficient grace, I am a Jansenist.
If I admit it, as the Jesuits do, in the way of denying
that efficacious grace is necessary, I shall be a heretic,
say you. And if I admit it, as you do, in the way of maintaining
the necessity of efficacious grace, I sin against common
sense, and am a blockhead, say the Jesuits. What must
I do, thus reduced to the inevitable necessity of being a
blockhead, a heretic, or a Jansenist? And what a sad pass
are matters come to, if there are none but the Jansenists who
avoid coming into collision either with the faith or with reason,
.bn 081.png
.pn +1
and who save themselves at once from absurdity and
from error!”

My Jansenist friend took this speech as a good omen, and
already looked upon me as a convert. He said nothing to
me, however; but, addressing the monk: “Pray, father,”
inquired he, “what is the point on which you agree with the
Jesuits?” “We agree in this,” he replied, “that the Jesuits
and we acknowledge the sufficient grace given to all.”
“But,” said the Jansenist, “there are two things in this expression
<em>sufficient grace</em>—there is the sound, which is only so
much breath; and there is the thing which it signifies, which
is real and effectual. And, therefore, as you are agreed with
the Jesuits in regard to the word <em>sufficient</em>, and opposed to
them as to the sense, it is apparent that you are opposed to
them in regard to the substance of that term, and that you
only agree with them as to the sound. Is this what you
call acting sincerely and cordially?”

“But,” said the good man, “what cause have you to complain,
since we deceive nobody by this mode of speaking? In
our schools we openly teach that we understand it in a manner
different from the Jesuits.”

“What I complain of,” returned my friend, “is, that you
do not proclaim it everywhere, that by sufficient grace you
understand the grace which is <em>not</em> sufficient. You are bound
in conscience, by thus altering the sense of the ordinary terms
of theology, to tell that, when you admit a sufficient grace in
all men, you understand that they have not sufficient grace
in effect. All classes of persons in the world understand the
word sufficient in one and the same sense; the New Thomists
alone understand it in another sense. All the women,
who form one-half of the world, all courtiers, all military
men, all magistrates, all lawyers, merchants, artisans, the
whole populace—in short, all sorts of men, except the Dominicans,
understand the word <em>sufficient</em> to express all that
is necessary. Scarcely any one is aware of this singular exception.
It is reported over the whole earth, simply that
the Dominicans hold that all men have the <em>sufficient graces</em>.
.bn 082.png
.pn +1
What other conclusion can be drawn from this, than that they
hold that all men have all the graces necessary for action;
especially when they are seen joined in interest and intrigue
with the Jesuits, who understand the thing in that sense?
Is not the uniformity of your expressions, viewed in connection
with this union of party, a manifest indication and confirmation
of the uniformity of your sentiments?

“The multitude of the faithful inquire of theologians:
What is the real condition of human nature since its corruption?
St. Augustine and his disciples reply, that it has no
sufficient grace until God is pleased to bestow it. Next
come the Jesuits, and they say that all have the effectually
sufficient graces. The Dominicans are consulted on this contrariety
of opinion; and what course do they pursue? They
unite with the Jesuits; by this coalition they make up a
majority; they secede from those who deny these sufficient
graces; they declare that all men possess them. Who, on
hearing this, would imagine anything else than that they
gave their sanction to the opinion of the Jesuits? And then
they add that, nevertheless, these said sufficient graces are
perfectly useless without the efficacious, which are not given
to all!

“Shall I present you with a picture of the Church amidst
these conflicting sentiments? I consider her very like a man
who, leaving his native country on a journey, is encountered
by robbers, who inflict many wounds on him, and leave him
half dead. He sends for three physicians resident in the
neighboring towns. The first, on probing his wounds, pronounces
them mortal, and assures him that none but God
can restore to him his lost powers. The second, coming
after the other, chooses to flatter the man—tells him that he
has still sufficient strength to reach his home; and, abusing
the first physician who opposed his advice, determines upon
his ruin. In this dilemma, the poor patient, observing the
third medical gentleman at a distance, stretches out his hands
to him as the person who should determine the controversy.
This practitioner, on examining his wounds, and ascertaining
.bn 083.png
.pn +1
the opinions of the first two doctors, embraces that of the
second, and uniting with him, the two combine against the
first, and being the stronger party in number, drive him from
the field in disgrace. From this proceeding, the patient
naturally concludes that the last comer is of the same opinion
with the second; and, on putting the question to him,
he assures him most positively that his strength is sufficient
for prosecuting his journey. The wounded man, however,
sensible of his own weakness, begs him to explain to him how
he considered him sufficient for the journey. ‘Because,’ replies
his adviser, ‘you are still in possession of your legs,
and legs are the organs which naturally suffice for walking.’
‘But,’ says the patient, ‘have I all the strength necessary to
make use of my legs? for, in my present weak condition, it
humbly appears to me that they are wholly useless.’ ‘Certainly
you have not,’ replies the doctor; ‘you will never walk
<em>effectively</em>, unless God vouchsafes some extraordinary assistance
to sustain and conduct you.’ ‘What!’ exclaims the
poor man, ‘do you not mean to say that I have sufficient
strength in me, so as to want for nothing to walk effectively?’
‘Very far from it,’ returns the physician. ‘You must, then,’
says the patient, ‘be of a different opinion from your companion
there about my real condition.’ ‘I must admit that
I am,’ replies the other.

“What do you suppose the patient said to this? Why,
he complained of the strange conduct and ambiguous terms
of this third physician. He censured him for taking part
with the second, to whom he was opposed in sentiment, and
with whom he had only the semblance of agreement, and for
having driven away the first doctor, with whom he in reality
agreed; and, after making a trial of his strength, and finding
by experience his actual weakness, he sent them both about
their business, recalled his first adviser, put himself under
his care, and having, by his advice, implored from God the
strength of which he confessed his need, obtained the mercy he
sought, and, through divine help, reached his house in peace.”

The worthy monk was so confounded with this parable that
.bn 084.png
.pn +1
he could not find words to reply. To cheer him up a little,
I said to him, in a mild tone: “But, after all, my dear father,
what made you think of giving the name of <em>sufficient</em> to a
grace which you say it is a point of faith to believe is, in fact,
insufficient?” “It is very easy for you to talk about it,” said
he. “You are an independent and private man; I am a monk,
and in a community—cannot you estimate the difference between
the two cases? We depend on superiors; they depend
on others. They have promised our votes—what would
you have to become of me?” We understood the hint; and
this brought to our recollection the case of his brother monk,
who, for a similar piece of indiscretion, has been exiled to
Abbeville.

“But,” I resumed, “how comes it about that your community
is bound to admit this grace?” “That is another
question,” he replied. “All that I can tell you is, in one
word, that our order has defended, to the utmost of its ability,
the doctrine of St. Thomas on efficacious grace. With
what ardor did it oppose, from the very commencement, the
doctrine of Molina? How did it labor to establish the necessity
of the efficacious grace of Jesus Christ? Don’t you
know what happened under Clement VIII. and Paul V., and
how the former having been prevented by death, and the
latter hindered by some Italian affairs from publishing his
bull, our arms still sleep in the Vatican? But the Jesuits,
availing themselves, since the introduction of the heresy of
Luther and Calvin, of the scanty light which the people possess
for discriminating between the error of these men and
the truth of the doctrine of St. Thomas, disseminated their
principles with such rapidity and success, that they became,
ere long, masters of the popular belief; while we, on our
part, found ourselves in the predicament of being denounced
as Calvinists, and treated as the Jansenists are at present, unless
we qualified the efficacious grace with, at least, the apparent
avowal of a <em>sufficient</em>.[100] In this extremity, what better
.bn 085.png
.pn +1
course could we have taken for saving the truth, without
losing our own credit, than by admitting the name of sufficient
grace, while we denied that it was such in effect? Such
is the real history of the case.”

.pm fns 100
“It is certain,” says Bayle, “that the obligation which the Romish
Church is under to respect the doctrine of St. Augustine on the subject
of grace, in consequence of its having received the sanction of Popes
and Councils at various times, placed it in a very awkward and ridiculous
situation. It is so obvious to every man who examines the matter
without prejudice, and with the necessary means of information, that
the doctrine of Augustine and that of Jansenius are one and the same,
that it is impossible to see, without feelings of indignation, the Court of
Rome boasting of having condemned Jansenius, and nevertheless preserving
to St. Augustine all his glory. The two things are utterly irreconcilable.
What is more, the Council of Trent, by condemning the
doctrine of Calvin on free-will, has, by necessity, condemned that of St.
Augustine; for there is no Calvinist who has denied, or who can deny,
the concourse of the human will and the liberty of the soul, in the sense
which St. Augustine gives to the words concourse, co-operation, and
liberty. There is no Calvinist who does not acknowledge the freedom
of the will, and its use in conversion, if that word is understood according
to the ideas of St. Augustine. Those whom the Council of Trent
condemns do not reject free-will, except as signifying the liberty of indifference.
The Thomists, also, reject it under this notion, and yet they
pass for very good Catholics.” (Bayle’s Dict., art. <cite>Augustine</cite>.)
.pm fne

This was spoken in such a melancholy tone, that I really
began to pity the man; not so, however, my companion.
“Flatter not yourselves,” said he to the monk, “with having
saved the truth; had she not found other defenders, in
your feeble hands she must have perished. By admitting
into the Church the name of her enemy, you have admitted
the enemy himself. Names are inseparable from things. If
the term sufficient grace be once established, it will be vain
for you to protest that you understand by it a grace which is
<em>not</em> sufficient. Your protest will be held inadmissible. Your
explanation would be scouted as odious in the world, where
men speak more ingenuously about matters of infinitely less
moment. The Jesuits will gain a triumph—it will be their
grace, which is sufficient, in fact, and not yours, which is only
so in name, that will pass as established; and the converse
of your creed will become an article of faith.”

“We will all suffer martyrdom first,” cried the father,
“rather than consent to the establishment of <em>sufficient grace
in the sense of the Jesuits</em>. St. Thomas, whom we have
.bn 086.png
.pn +1
sworn to follow even to the death, is diametrically opposed
to such doctrine.”[101]

.pm fns 101
It is a singular fact that the Roman Church, which boasts so much
of her unity, and is ever charging the Reformed with being Calvinists,
Lutherans, &c., is, in reality, divided into numerous conflicting sects,
each <em>sworn</em> to uphold the peculiar sentiments of its founder. If there
is one principle more essential than another to the Reformation, it is that
of entire independence of all masters in the faith: “Nullius addictus
jurare in verba magistri.”
.pm fne

To this my friend, who took up the matter more seriously
than I did, replied: “Come now, father, your fraternity has
received an honor which it sadly abuses. It abandons that
grace which was confided to its care, and which has never
been abandoned since the creation of the world. That victorious
grace, which was waited for by the patriarchs, predicted
by the prophets, introduced by Jesus Christ, preached
by St. Paul, explained by St. Augustine, the greatest of the
fathers, embraced by his followers, confirmed by St. Bernard,
the last of the fathers,[102] supported by St. Thomas, the angel
of the schools,[103] transmitted by him to your order, maintained
by so many of your fathers, and so nobly defended by your
monks under popes Clement and Paul—that efficacious grace,
which had been committed as a sacred deposit into your hands,
that it might find, in a sacred and everlasting order, a succession
of preachers, who might proclaim it to the end of time—is
discarded and deserted for interests the most contemptible.
It is high time for other hands to arm in its quarrel. It is
time for God to raise up intrepid disciples of the Doctor of
grace,[104] who, strangers to the entanglements of the world,
will serve God for God’s sake. Grace may not, indeed, number
the Dominicans among her champions, but champions she
shall never want; for, by her own almighty energy, she creates
them for herself. She demands hearts pure and disengaged;
.bn 087.png
.pn +1
nay, she herself purifies and disengages them from
worldly interests, incompatible with the truths of the Gospel.
Reflect seriously on this, father; and take care that God does
not remove this candlestick from its place, leaving you in
darkness, and without the crown, as a punishment for the
coldness which you manifest to a cause so important to his
Church.”[105]

.pm fns 102
“The famous St. Bernard, abbot of Clairval, whose influence
throughout all Europe was incredible—whose word was a law, and
whose counsels were regarded by kings and princes as so many orders
to which the most respectful obedience was due; this eminent ecclesiastic
was the person who contributed most to enrich and aggrandize the Cistercian
order.” (Mosh. Eccl. Hist., cent. xii.)
.pm fne

.pm fns 103
Thomas Aquinas, a scholastic divine of the thirteenth century, who
was termed the <i>Angelic Doctor</i>.
.pm fne

.pm fns 104
Augustine.
.pm fne

.pm fns 105
Who can help regretting that sentiments so evangelical, so truly
noble, and so eloquently expressed, should have been held by Pascal
in connection with a Church which denounced him as a heretic for upholding
them!
.pm fne

He might have gone on in this strain much longer, for he
was kindling as he advanced, but I interrupted him by rising
to take my leave, and said: “Indeed, my dear father, had I
any influence in France, I should have it proclaimed, by sound
of trumpet: ‘<em><sc>Be it known to all men</sc>, that when the Jacobins
<sc>SAY</sc> that sufficient grace is given to all, they <sc>MEAN</sc> that
all have not the grace which actually suffices!</em>’ After which,
you might say it as often as you please, but not otherwise.”
And thus ended our visit.

You will perceive, therefore, that we have here a <em>politic
sufficiency</em> somewhat similar to <em>proximate power</em>. Meanwhile
I may tell you, that it appears to me that both the proximate
power and this same sufficient grace may be safely doubted
by anybody, provided he is not a Jacobin.[106]

.pm fns 106
An ironical reflection on the cowardly compromise of the Jacobins,
or Dominicans, for having pledged themselves to the use of the term
“sufficient,” in order to please the Jesuits.
.pm fne

I have just come to learn, when closing my letter, that the
censure[107] has passed. But as I do not yet know in what
terms it is worded, and as it will not be published till the
15th of February, I shall delay writing you about it till the
next post.—I am, &c.

.pm fns 107
The censure of the Theological Faculty of the Sorbonne passed
against M. Arnauld, and which is fully discussed in Letter iii.
.pm fne

.fm lz=t

.bn 088.png
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.sp 4

.h2
REPLY OF THE “PROVINCIAL” TO THE FIRST TWO LETTERS OF HIS FRIEND.

.rj
<i>February 2, 1656.</i>

<sc>Sir</sc>,—Your two letters have not been confined to me.
Everybody has seen them, everybody understands them, and
everybody believes them. They are not only in high repute
among theologians—they have proved agreeable to men of
the world, and intelligible even to the ladies.

In a communication which I lately received from one of
the gentlemen of the Academy—one of the most illustrious
names in a society of men who are all illustrious—who had
seen only your first letter, he writes me as follows: “I only
wish that the Sorbonne, which owes so much to the memory
of the late cardinal,[108] would acknowledge the jurisdiction of
his French Academy. The author of the letter would be
satisfied; for, in the capacity of an academician, I would
authoritatively condemn, I would banish, I would proscribe—I
had almost said exterminate—to the extent of my power,
this <em>proximate power</em>, which makes so much noise about
nothing, and without knowing what it would have. The
misfortune is, that our academic ‘power’ is a very limited
and <em>remote</em> power. I am sorry for it; and still more sorry
that my small power cannot discharge me from my obligations
to you,” &c.

.pm fns 108
The Cardinal de Richelieu, the celebrated founder of the French
Academy. The Sorbonne owed its magnificence to the liberality of this
eminent statesman, who rebuilt its house, enlarged its revenues, enriched
its library, and took it under his special patronage.
.pm fne

My next extract is from the pen of a lady, whom I shall
not indicate in any way whatever. She writes thus to a
female friend who had transmitted to her the first of your
letters: “You can have no idea how much I am obliged to
you for the letter you sent me—it is so very ingenious, and
so nicely written. It narrates, and yet it is not a narrative;
it clears up the most intricate and involved of all possible
.bn 089.png
.pn +1
matters; its raillery is exquisite; it enlightens those who
know little about the subject, and imparts double delight to
those who understand it. It is an admirable apology; and,
if they would so take it, a delicate and innocent censure.
In short, that letter displays so much art, so much spirit,
and so much judgment, that I burn with curiosity to know
who wrote it,” &c.

You too, perhaps, would like to know who the lady is that
writes in this style; but you must be content to esteem
without knowing her; when you come to know her, your
esteem will be greatly enhanced.

Take my word for it, then, and continue your letters; and
let the censure come when it may, we are quite prepared for
receiving it. These words, “proximate power,” and “sufficient
grace,” with which we are threatened, will frighten us
no longer. We have learned from the Jesuits, the Jacobins,
and M. le Moine, in how many different ways they may be
turned, and how little solidity there is in these new-fangled
terms, to give ourselves any trouble about them.—Meanwhile,
I remain, &c.

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.h2
LETTER III.

.fs 80%
.ce
INJUSTICE, ABSURDITY, AND NULLITY OF THE CENSURE ON M. ARNAULD.
.fs

.sp 2

.rj
<sc>Paris</sc>, <i>February 9, 1656</i>.

<sc>Sir</sc>,—I have just received your letter; and, at the same
time, there was brought me a copy of the censure in manuscript.
I find that I am as well treated in the former, as M.
Arnauld is ill-treated in the latter. I am afraid there is some
extravagance in both cases, and that neither of us is sufficiently
well known by our judges. Sure I am, that were we
better known, M. Arnauld would merit the approval of the
Sorbonne, and I the censure of the Academy. Thus our interests
are quite at variance with each other. It is his interest
to make himself known, to vindicate his innocence;
whereas it is mine to remain in the dark, for fear of forfeiting
my reputation. Prevented, therefore, from showing my face,
I must devolve on you the task of making my acknowledgments
to my illustrious admirers, while I undertake that of
furnishing you with the news of the censure.

I assure you, sir, it has filled me with astonishment. I
expected to find it condemning the most shocking heresy in
the world, but your wonder will equal mine, when informed
that these alarming preparations, when on the point of producing
the grand effect anticipated, have all ended in smoke.

To understand the whole affair in a pleasant way, only
recollect, I beseech you, the strange impressions which, for
a long time past, we have been taught to form of the Jansenists.
Recall to mind the cabals, the factions, the errors,
the schisms, the outrages, with which they have been so long
charged; the manner in which they have been denounced
.bn 091.png
.pn +1
and vilified from the pulpit and the press; and the degree
to which this torrent of abuse, so remarkable for its violence
and duration, has swollen of late years, when they have been
openly and publicly accused of being not only heretics and
schismatics, but apostates and infidels—with “denying the
mystery of transubstantiation, and renouncing Jesus Christ
and the Gospel.”[109]

.pm fns 109
The charge of “denying the mystery of transubstantiation,” certainly
did not justly apply to the Jansenists as such; these religious
devotees denied nothing. Their system, so far as the dogmas of the
Church were concerned, was one of implicit faith; but though Arnauld,
Nicole, and the other learned men among them, stiffly maintained the
leading tenets of the Romish Church, in opposition to those of the Reformers
the Jansenist creed, as held by their pious followers, was
practically at variance with transubstantiation, and many other errors
of the Church to which they nominally belonged. (Mad. Schimmelpenninck’s
Demolition of Port-Royal, pp. 77–80, &c.)
.pm fne

After having published these startling[110] accusations, it was
resolved to examine their writings, in order to pronounce
judgment on them. For this purpose the second letter of
M. Arnauld, which was reported to be full of the greatest
errors,[111] is selected. The examiners appointed are his most
open and avowed enemies. They employ all their learning
to discover something that they might lay hold upon, and at
length they produce one proposition of a doctrinal character,
which they exhibit for censure.

.pm fns 110
<lang=fr><i>Atroces</i></lang>—“atrocious.” (Edit. 1657.)
.pm fne

.pm fns 111
<lang=fr><i>Des plus detestables erreurs</i></lang>—“the most detestable errors.” (Edit.
1657.) <lang=fr><i>Erreurs</i></lang>—“errors.” (Nicole’s Edit., 1767.)
.pm fne

What else could any one infer from such proceedings, than
that this proposition, selected under such remarkable circumstances,
would contain the essence of the blackest heresies
imaginable. And yet the proposition so entirely agrees with
what is clearly and formally expressed in the passages from
the fathers quoted by M. Arnauld, that I have not met
with a single individual who could comprehend the difference
between them. Still, however, it might be imagined that
there was a very great difference; for the passages from the
fathers being unquestionably catholic, the proposition of M.
Arnauld, if heretical, must be widely opposed[112] to them.

.pm fns 112
<lang=fr><i>Horriblement contraire</i></lang>—“horribly contrary.” (Edit. 1657.)
.pm fne
.bn 092.png
.pn +1

Such was the difficulty which the Sorbonne was expected
to clear up. All Christendom waited, with wide-opened
eyes, to discover, in the censure of these learned doctors,
the point of difference which had proved imperceptible to
ordinary mortals. Meanwhile M. Arnauld gave in his defences,
placing his own proposition and the passages of the
fathers from which he had drawn it in parallel columns, so
as to make the agreement between them apparent to the
most obtuse understandings.

He shows, for example, that St. Augustine says in one
passage, that “Jesus Christ points out to us, in the person
of St. Peter, a righteous man warning us by his fall to avoid
presumption.” He cites another passage from the same
father, in which he says, “that God, in order to show us
that without grace we can do nothing, left St. Peter without
grace.” He produces a third, from St. Chrysostom, who
says, “that the fall of St. Peter happened, not through any
coldness towards Jesus Christ, but because grace failed him;
and that he fell, not so much through his own negligence as
through the withdrawment of God, as a lesson to the whole
Church, that without God we can do nothing.” He then
gives his own accused proposition, which is as follows: “The
fathers point out to us, in the person of St. Peter, a righteous
man to whom that grace without which we can do nothing,
was wanting.”

In vain did people attempt to discover how it could possibly
be, that M. Arnauld’s expression differed from those of
the fathers as much as truth from error, and faith from
heresy. For where was the difference to be found? Could
it be in these words, “that the fathers point out to us, in the
person of St. Peter, a righteous man?” St. Augustine has
said the same thing in so many words. Is it because he says
“that grace had failed him?” The same St. Augustine,
who had said that “St. Peter was a righteous man,” says
“that he had not had grace on that occasion.” Is it, then,
for his having said, “that without grace we can do nothing?”
Why, is not this just what St. Augustine says in the same
.bn 093.png
.pn +1
place, and what St. Chrysostom had said before him, with
this difference only, that he expresses it in much stronger
language, as when he says “that his fall did not happen
through his own coldness or negligence, but through the failure
of grace, and the withdrawment of God?”[113]

.pm fns 113
The meaning of Chrysostom is good, but the expressions of these
ancient fathers are often more remarkable for their strength than their
precision. The Protestant reader hardly needs to be reminded, that if
divine grace can be said to have failed the Apostle Peter at his fall, it
can only be in the sense of a temporary suspension of its influences;
and that this withdrawment of grace must be regarded as the punishment,
and not as the cause, of his own negligence.
.pm fne

Such considerations as these kept everybody in a state of
breathless suspense, to learn in what this diversity could
consist, when at length, after a great many meetings, this
famous and long-looked for censure made its appearance.
But, alas! it has sadly baulked our expectation. Whether
it be that the Molinist doctors would not condescend so far
as to enlighten us on the point, or for some other mysterious
reason, the fact is, they have done nothing more than pronounce
these words: “This proposition is rash, impious, blasphemous,
accursed, and heretical!”

Would you believe it, sir, that most people, finding themselves
deceived in their expectations, have got into bad humor,
and begin to fall foul upon the censors themselves?
They are drawing strange inferences from their conduct in
favor of M. Arnauld’s innocence. “What!” they are saying,
“is this all that could be achieved, during all this time, by
so many doctors joining in a furious attack on one individual?
Can they find nothing in all his works worthy of reprehension,
but three lines, and these extracted, word for word,
from the greatest doctors of the Greek and Latin Churches?
Is there any author whatever whose writings, were it intended
to ruin him, would not furnish a more specious pretext for
the purpose? And what higher proof could be furnished
of the orthodoxy of this illustrious accused?

“How comes it to pass,” they add, “that so many denunciations
are launched in this censure, into which they have
.bn 094.png
.pn +1
crowded such terms as ‘poison, pestilence, horror, rashness,
impiety, blasphemy, abomination, execration, anathema, heresy’—the
most dreadful epithets that could be used against
Arius, or Antichrist himself; and all to combat an imperceptible
heresy, and that, moreover, without telling us what it
is? If it be against the words of the fathers that they inveigh
in this style, where is the faith and tradition? If
against M. Arnauld’s proposition, let them point out the difference
between the two; for we can see nothing but the
most perfect harmony between them. As soon as we have
discovered the evil of the proposition, we shall hold it in abhorrence;
but so long as we do not see it, or rather see
nothing in the statement but the sentiments of the holy
fathers, conceived and expressed in their own terms, how
can we possibly regard it with any other feelings than those
of holy veneration?”

Such is a specimen of the way in which they are giving
vent to their feelings. But these are by far too deep-thinking
people. You and I, who make no pretensions to such
extraordinary penetration, may keep ourselves quite easy
about the whole affair. What! would we be wiser than our
masters? No: let us take example from them, and not undertake
what they have not ventured upon. We would be
sure to get boggled in such an attempt. Why it would be
the easiest thing imaginable, to render this censure itself heretical.
Truth, we know, is so delicate, that if we make the
slightest deviation from it, we fall into error; but this alleged
error is so extremely fine-spun, that, if we diverge from
it in the slightest degree, we fall back upon the truth. There
is positively nothing between this obnoxious proposition and
the truth but an imperceptible point. The distance between
them is so impalpable, that I was in terror lest, from pure
inability to perceive it, I might, in my over-anxiety to agree
with the doctors of the Sorbonne, place myself in opposition
to the doctors of the Church. Under this apprehension, I
judged it expedient to consult one of those who, through
policy, was neutral on the first question, that from him I
.bn 095.png
.pn +1
might learn the real state of the matter. I have accordingly
had an interview with one of the most intelligent of that
party, whom I requested to point out to me the difference
between the two things, at the same time frankly owning to
him that I could see none.

He appeared to be amused at my simplicity, and replied,
with a smile: “How simple it is in you to believe that there
is any difference! Why, where could it be? Do you imagine
that, if they could have found out any discrepancy between
M. Arnauld and the fathers, they would not have
boldly pointed it out, and been delighted with the opportunity
of exposing it before the public, in whose eyes they are
so anxious to depreciate that gentleman?”

I could easily perceive, from these few words, that those
who had been neutral on the first question, would not all
prove so on the second; but anxious to hear his reasons,
I asked: “Why, then, have they attacked this unfortunate
proposition?”

“Is it possible,” he replied, “you can be ignorant of these
two things, which I thought had been known to the veriest
tyro in these matters?—that, on the one hand, M. Arnauld
has uniformly avoided advancing a single tenet which is not
powerfully supported by the tradition of the Church; and
that, on the other hand, his enemies have determined, cost
what it may, to cut that ground from under him; and, accordingly,
that as the writings of the former afforded no
handle to the designs of the latter, they have been obliged,
in order to satiate their revenge, to seize on some proposition,
it mattered not what, and to condemn it without telling
why or wherefore. Do not you know how the Jansenists
keep them in check, and annoy them so desperately, that
they cannot drop the slightest word against the principles
of the fathers without being incontinently overwhelmed with
whole volumes, under the pressure of which they are forced
to succumb? So that, after a great many proofs of their
weakness, they have judged it more to the purpose, and
.bn 096.png
.pn +1
much less troublesome, to censure than to reply—it being a
much easier matter with them to find monks than reasons.”[114]

.pm fns 114
That is, they could more readily procure monks to vote against M.
Arnauld, than arguments to answer him.
.pm fne

“Why then,” said I, “if this be the case, their censure is
not worth a straw; for who will pay any regard to it, when
they see it to be without foundation, and refuted, as it no
doubt will be, by the answers given to it?”

“If you knew the temper of people,” replied my friend
the doctor, “you would talk in another sort of way. Their
censure, censurable as it is, will produce nearly all its designed
effect for a time; and although, by the force of demonstration,
it is certain that, in course of time, its invalidity
will be made apparent, it is equally true that, at first, it will
tell as effectually on the minds of most people as if it had
been the most righteous sentence in the world. Let it only
be cried about the streets: ‘Here you have the censure of
M. Arnauld!—here you have the condemnation of the Jansenists!’
and the Jesuits will find their account in it. How
few will ever read it! How few of them who do read, will
understand it! How few will observe that it answers no objections!
How few will take the matter to heart, or attempt
to sift it to the bottom?—Mark then, how much advantage
this gives to the enemies of the Jansenists. They are sure
to make a triumph of it, though a vain one, as usual, for
some months at least—and that is a great matter for them—they
will look out afterwards for some new means of subsistence.
They live from hand to mouth, sir. It is in this
way they have contrived to maintain themselves down to the
present day. Sometimes it is by a catechism in which a
child is made to condemn their opponents; then it is by a
procession, in which sufficient grace leads the efficacious in
triumph; again it is by a comedy, in which Jansenius is represented
as carried off by devils; at another time it is by an
almanac; and now it is by this censure.”[115]

.pm fns 115
The allusions in the text afford curious illustrations of the mode of
warfare pursued by the Jesuits of the seventeenth century. The first
refers to a comic catechism, in which the simple language of childhood
was employed as a vehicle for the most calumnious charges against the
opponents of the Society. Pascal refers again to this catechism in Letter
xvii. The second device was a sort of school-boy masquerade. A
handsome youth, disguised as a female, in splendid attire, and bearing
the inscription of <em>sufficient grace</em>, dragged behind him another dressed
as a bishop (representing Jansenius, bishop of Ypres), who followed with
a rueful visage, amidst the hootings of the other boys. The comedy
referred to was acted in the Jesuits’ college of Clermont. The almanacs
published in France at that period being usually embellished with
rude cuts for the amusement of the vulgar, the Jesuits procured the insertion
of a caricature of the Jansenists, who were represented as pursued
by the pope, and taking refuge among the Calvinists. This, however,
called forth a retaliation, in the shape of a poem, entitled “The
Prints of the Famous Jesuitical Almanac,” in which the Jesuits were
so successfully held up to ridicule, that they could hardly show face for
some time in the streets of Paris. (Nicole, i. p. 208.)
.pm fne
.bn 097.png
.pn +1

“In good sooth,” said I, “I was on the point of finding
fault with the conduct of the Molinists; but after what you
have told me, I must say I admire their prudence and their
policy. I see perfectly well that they could not have followed
a safer or more judicious course.”

“You are right,” returned he; “their safest policy has
always been to keep silent; and this led a certain learned
divine to remark, ‘that the cleverest among them are those
who intrigue much, speak little, and write nothing.’

“It is on this principle that, from the commencement of
the meetings, they prudently ordained that, if M. Arnauld
came into the Sorbonne, it must be simply to explain what
he believed, and not to enter the lists of controversy with
any one. The examiners having ventured to depart a little
from this prudent arrangement, suffered for their temerity.
They found themselves rather too vigorously[116] refuted by his
second apology.

.pm fns 116
<lang=fr><i>Vertement</i></lang>—“smartly.” (Edit. 1657.)
.pm fne

“On the same principle, they had recourse to that rare and
very novel device of the half-hour and the sand-glass.[117] By
this means they rid themselves of the importunity of those
troublesome doctors,[118] who might undertake to refute all their
arguments, to produce books which might convict them of
forgery, to insist on a reply, and reduce them to the predicament
of having none to give.

.pm fns 117
See Letter ii.
.pm fne

.pm fns 118
<lang=fr><i>Ces docteurs</i></lang>—“those doctors.” (Edit. 1767.)
.pm fne
.bn 098.png
.pn +1

“It is not that they were so blind as not to see that this
encroachment on liberty, which has induced so many doctors
to withdraw from the meetings, would do no good to their
censure; and that the protest of nullity, taken on this ground
by M. Arnauld before it was concluded, would be a bad preamble
for securing it a favorable reception. They know very
well that unprejudiced persons place fully as much weight on
the judgment of seventy doctors, who had nothing to gain
by defending M. Arnauld, as on that of a hundred others
who had nothing to lose by condemning him. But, upon the
whole, they considered that it would be of vast importance
to have a censure, although it should be the act of a party
only in the Sorbonne, and not of the whole body; although
it should be carried with little or no freedom of debate, and
obtained by a great many small manœuvres not exactly according
to order; although it should give no explanation of
the matter in dispute; although it should not point out in
what this heresy consists, and should say as little as possible
about it, for fear of committing a mistake. This very silence
is a mystery in the eyes of the simple; and the censure will
reap this singular advantage from it, that they may defy the
most critical and subtle theologians to find in it a single weak
argument.

“Keep yourself easy, then, and do not be afraid of being
set down as a heretic, though you should make use of the
condemned proposition. It is bad, I assure you, only as occurring
in the second letter of M. Arnauld. If you will not
believe this statement on my word, I refer you to M. le Moine,
the most zealous of the examiners, who, in the course of conversation
with a doctor of my acquaintance this very morning,
on being asked by him where lay the point of difference
in dispute, and if one would no longer be allowed to say
what the fathers had said before him, made the following exquisite
reply: ‘This proposition would be orthodox in the
mouth of any other—it is only as coming from M. Arnauld
that the Sorbonne have condemned it!’ You must now be
prepared to admire the machinery of Molinism, which can
.bn 099.png
.pn +1
produce such prodigious overturnings in the Church—that
what is catholic in the fathers becomes heretical in M. Arnauld—that
what is heretical in the Semi-Pelagians becomes
orthodox in the writings of the Jesuits; the ancient doctrine
of St. Augustine becomes an intolerable innovation, and new
inventions, daily fabricated before our eyes, pass for the ancient
faith of the Church.” So saying, he took his leave of
me.

This information has satisfied my purpose. I gather from
it that this same heresy is one of an entirely new species. It
is not the sentiments of M. Arnauld that are heretical; it is
only his person. This is a personal heresy. He is not a
heretic for anything he has said or written, but simply
because he is M. Arnauld. This is all they have to say
against him. Do what he may, unless he cease to be, he will
never be a good Catholic. The grace of St. Augustine will
never be the true grace, so long as he continues to defend it.
It would become so at once, were he to take it into his head
to impugn it. That would be a sure stroke, and almost the
only plan for establishing the truth and demolishing Molinism;
such is the fatality attending all the opinions which he
embraces.

Let us leave them, then, to settle their own differences.
These are the disputes of theologians, not of theology. We,
who are no doctors, have nothing to do with their quarrels.
Tell our friends the news of the censure, and love me while
I am, &c.[119]

.pm fns 119
In Nicole’s edition, this letter is signed with the initials “E. A. A.
B. P. A. F. D. E. P.” which seem merely a chance medley of letters, to
quiz those who were so anxious to discover the author. There may
have been an allusion to the absurd story of a Jansenist conference
held, it was said, at Bourg-Fontaine, in 1621, to deliberate on ways and
means for abolishing Christianity; among the persons present at which,
indicated by initials, Anthony Arnauld was ridiculously accused of having
been one under the initials A. A. (See Bayle’s Dict., art. <cite>Ant. Arnauld</cite>.)
.pm fne

.fm lz=t

.bn 100.png
.pn +1

.sp 4
.h2
LETTER IV.

.fs 80%
.ce
ON ACTUAL GRACE AND SINS OF IGNORANCE.
.fs

.sp 2

.rj
<sc>Paris</sc>, <i>February 25, 1656</i>.

<sc>Sir</sc>,—Nothing can come up to the Jesuits. I have seen
Jacobins, doctors, and all sorts of people in my day, but such
an interview as I have just had was wanting to complete
my knowledge of mankind. Other men are merely copies
of them. As things are always found best at the fountainhead,
I paid a visit to one of the ablest among them, in company
with my trusty Jansenist—the same who accompanied
me to the Dominicans. Being particularly anxious to learn
something of a dispute which they have with the Jansenists
about what they call <em>actual grace</em>, I said to the worthy father
that I would be much obliged to him if he would instruct me
on this point—that I did not even know what the term
meant, and would thank him to explain it. “With all my
heart,” the Jesuit replied; “for I dearly love inquisitive
people. Actual grace, according to our definition, ‘is an inspiration
of God, whereby he makes us to know his will, and
excites within us a desire to perform it.’”

“And where,” said I, “lies your difference with the Jansenists
on this subject?”

“The difference lies here,” he replied; “we hold that God
bestows actual grace <em>on all men in every case of temptation</em>;
for we maintain, that unless a person have, whenever tempted,
actual grace to keep him from sinning, his sin, whatever it
may be, can never be imputed to him. The Jansenists, on
the other hand, affirm that sins, though committed without
actual grace, are, nevertheless, imputed; but they are a pack
of fools.” I got a glimpse of his meaning; but, to obtain
.bn 101.png
.pn +1
from him a fuller explanation, I observed: “My dear father,
it is that phrase <em>actual grace</em> that puzzles me; I am quite a
stranger to it, and if you would have the goodness to tell me
the same thing over again, without employing that term, you
would infinitely oblige me.”

“Very good,” returned the father; “that is to say, you
want me to substitute the definition in place of the thing defined;
that makes no alteration on the sense; I have no objections.
We maintain it, then, as an undeniable principle,
<em>that an action cannot be imputed as a sin, unless God bestow
on us, before committing it, the knowledge of the evil that is
in the action, and an inspiration inciting us to avoid it</em>. Do
you understand me now?”

Astonished at such a declaration, according to which, no
sins of surprise, nor any of those committed in entire forgetfulness
of God, could be imputed, I turned round to my
friend the Jansenist, and easily discovered from his looks
that he was of a different way of thinking. But as he did
not utter a word, I said to the monk, “I would fain wish,
my dear father, to think that what you have now said is true,
and that you have good proofs for it.”

“Proofs, say you!” he instantly exclaimed: “I shall furnish
you with these very soon, and the very best sort too;
let me alone for that.”

So saying, he went in search of his books, and I took this
opportunity of asking my friend if there was any other person
who talked in this manner? “Is this so strange to you?”
he replied. “You may depend upon it that neither the
fathers, nor the popes, nor councils, nor Scripture, nor any
book of devotion, employ such language; but if you wish
casuists and modern schoolmen, he will bring you a goodly
number of them on his side.” “O! but I care not a fig
about these authors, if they are contrary to tradition,” I said.
“You are right,” he replied.

As he spoke, the good father entered the room, laden with
books; and presenting to me the first that came to hand,
“Read that,” he said; “this is ‘The Summary of Sins,’ by
.bn 102.png
.pn +1
Father Bauny[120]—the fifth edition too, you see, which shows
that it is a good book.”

.pm fns 120
Etienne Bauni, or Stephen Bauny, was a French Jesuit. His
“Summary,” which Pascal has immortalized by his frequent references
to it, was published in 1633. It is a large volume, stuffed with the most
detestable doctrines. In 1642, the General Assembly of the French
clergy censured his books on moral theology, as containing propositions
“leading to licentiousness, and the corruption of good manners, violating
natural equity, and excusing blasphemy, usury, simony, and other
heinous sins, as trivial matters.” (Nicole, i. 164.) And yet this abominable
work was formally defended in the “Apology for the Casuists,”
written in 1657, by Father Pirot, and acknowledged by the Jesuits as
having been written under their direction! (Nicole, Hist. des Provinciales,
p. 30.)
.pm fne

“It is a pity, however,” whispered the Jansenist in my
ear, “that this same book has been condemned at Rome, and
by the bishops of France.”

“Look at page 906,” said the father. I did so, and read
as follows: “In order to sin and become culpable in the
sight of God, it is necessary to know that the thing we wish
to do is not good, or at least to doubt that it is—to fear or
to judge that God takes no pleasure in the action which we
contemplate, but forbids it; and in spite of this, to commit
the deed, leap the fence, and transgress.”

“This is a good commencement,” I remarked. “And
yet,” said he, “mark how far envy will carry some people.
It was on that very passage that M. Hallier, before he became
one of our friends, bantered Father Bauny, by applying to
him these words: <lang=la><i>Ecce qui tollit peccata mundi</i></lang>—‘Behold
the man that taketh away the sins of the world!’”

“Certainly,” said I, “according to Father Bauny, we
may be said to behold a redemption of an entirely new description.”

“Would you have a more authentic witness on the point?”
added he. “Here is the book of Father Annat.[121] It is the
.bn 103.png
.pn +1
last that he wrote against M. Arnauld. Turn up to page
34, where there is a dog’s ear, and read the lines which I
have marked with pencil—they ought to be written in letters
of gold.” I then read these words: “He that has no thought
of God, nor of his sins, nor any apprehension (that is, as he
explained it, any knowledge) of his obligation to exercise the
acts of love to God or contrition, has no actual grace for
exercising those acts; but it is equally true that he is guilty
of no sin in omitting them, and that, if he is damned, it will
not be as a punishment for that omission.” And a few lines
below, he adds: “The same thing may be said of a culpable
commission.”

.pm fns 121
Francis Annat was born in the year 1590. He was made rector of
the College of Toulouse, and appointed by the Jesuits their French
provincial; and, while in that situation, was chosen by Louis XIV. as
his confessor. His friends have highly extolled his virtues as a man;
and the reader may judge of the value of these eulogiums from the fact,
that he retained his post as the favorite confessor of that licentious
monarch, without interruption, till deafness prevented him from listening
any longer to the confessions of his royal penitent. (Bayle, art.
<cite>Annat</cite>.) They have also extolled his answer to the Provincial Letters,
in his “Bonne Foy des Jansenistes,” in which he professed to expose
the falsity of the quotations made from the Casuists, with what success,
appears from the Notes of Nicole, who has completely vindicated Pascal
from the unfounded charges which the Jesuits have reiterated on this
point. (Notes Preliminaires, vol. i. p. 256, &c.; Entretiens de Cleandre
et Eudoxe, p. 79.)
.pm fne

“You see,” said the monk, “how he speaks of sins of
<em>omission</em> and of <em>commission</em>. Nothing escapes him. What
say you to that?”

“Say!” I exclaimed. “I am delighted! What a charming
train of consequences do I discover flowing from this
doctrine! I can see the whole results already; and such
mysteries present themselves before me! Why, I see more
people, beyond all comparison, justified by this ignorance and
forgetfulness of God, than by grace and the sacraments![122]
But, my dear father, are you not inspiring me with a delusive
joy? Are you sure there is nothing here like that <em>sufficiency</em>
.bn 104.png
.pn +1
<em>which suffices not</em>? I am terribly afraid of the <lang=la><i>Distinguo</i></lang>;—I
was taken in with that once already! Are you
quite in earnest?”

.pm fns 122
When Madame du Valois, a lady of birth and high accomplishments,
one of the nuns of Port-Royal, among other trials by which she
was harassed and tormented for not signing the formulary condemning
Jansenius, was threatened with being deprived of the benefit of the sacraments
at the hour of death, she replied: “If, at the awful hour of
death, I should be deprived of those assistances which the Church grants
to all her children, then God himself will, by his grace, immediately
and abundantly supply their instrumentality. I know, indeed, that it
is most painful to approach the awful hour of death without an outward
participation in the sacraments; but it is better dying to enter into
heaven, though without the sacraments, for the cause of truth, than,
receiving the sacraments, to be cited to irrevocable judgment for committing
perjury.” (Narrative of Dem. of Port-Royal, p. 176.)
.pm fne

“How now!” cried the monk, beginning to get angry;
“here is no matter for jesting. I assure you there is no such
thing as equivocation here.”

“I am not making a jest of it,” said I; “but that is what
I really dread, from pure anxiety to find it true.”[123]

.pm fns 123
Will it be believed that the Jesuits actually had the consummate
hypocrisy to pretend that Pascal meant to throw ridicule on the grace
of God, while he was merely exposing to merited contempt their own
perversions of the doctrine?
.pm fne

“Well then,” he said, “to assure yourself still more of it,
here are the writings of M. le Moine,[124] who taught the doctrine
in a full meeting of the Sorbonne. He learned it from
us, to be sure; but he has the merit of having cleared it up
most admirably. O how circumstantially he goes to work!
He shows that, in order to make out an action to be <em>a sin</em>,
all these things must have passed through the mind. Read,
and weigh every word.”—I then read what I now give you
in a translation from the original Latin: “1. On the one
hand, God sheds abroad on the soul some measure of love,
which gives it a bias toward the thing commanded; and on
the other, a rebellious concupiscence solicits it in the opposite
direction. 2. God inspires the soul with a knowledge of
its own weakness. 3. God reveals the knowledge of the
physician who can heal it. 4. God inspires it with a desire
to be healed. 5. God inspires a desire to pray and solicit
his assistance.”

.pm fns 124
See before, page 70.
.pm fne

“And unless all these things occur and pass through the
soul,” added the monk, “the action is not properly a sin, and
cannot be imputed, as M. le Moine shows in the same place
and in what follows. Would you wish to have other authorities
for this? Here they are.”

“All modern ones, however,” whispered my Jansenist
friend.

“So I perceive,” said I to him aside; and then, turning to
.bn 105.png
.pn +1
the monk: “O my dear sir,” cried I, “what a blessing this
will be to some persons of my acquaintance! I must positively
introduce them to you. You have never, perhaps, met
with people who had fewer sins to account for all your life.
For, in the first place, they never think of God at all; their
vices have got the better of their reason; they have never
known either their weakness or the physician who can cure
it; they have never thought of ‘desiring the health of their
soul,’ and still less of ‘praying to God to bestow it;’ so that,
according to M. le Moine, they are still in the state of baptismal
innocence. They have ‘never had a thought of loving
God or of being contrite for their sins;’ so that, according to
Father Annat, they have never committed sin through the
want of charity and penitence. Their life is spent in a perpetual
round of all sorts of pleasures, in the course of which
they have not been interrupted by the slightest remorse.
These excesses had led me to imagine that their perdition
was inevitable; but you, father, inform me that these same
excesses secure their salvation. Blessings on you, my good
father, for this way of justifying people! Others prescribe
painful austerities for healing the soul; but you show that
souls which may be thought desperately distempered are in
quite good health. What an excellent device for being happy
both in this world and in the next! I had always supposed
that the less a man thought of God, the more he sinned;
but, from what I see now, if one could only succeed in bringing
himself not to think upon God at all, everything would
be pure with him in all time coming. Away with your half-and-half
sinners, who retain some sneaking affection for virtue!
They will be damned every one of them, these semi-sinners.
But commend me to your arrant sinners—hardened,
unalloyed, out-and-out, thorough-bred sinners. Hell is no
place for them; they have cheated the devil, purely by virtue
of their devotion to his service!”

The good father, who saw very well the connection between
these consequences and his principle, dexterously
evaded them; and maintaining his temper, either from good
.bn 106.png
.pn +1
nature or policy, he merely replied: “To let you understand
how we avoid these inconveniences, you must know that,
while we affirm that these reprobates to whom you refer
would be without sin if they had no thoughts of conversion
and no desires to devote themselves to God, we maintain,
that they all actually <em>have</em> such thoughts and desires, and
that God never permitted a man to sin without giving him
previously a view of the evil which he contemplated, and a
desire, either to avoid the offence, or at all events to implore
his aid to enable him to avoid it; and none but Jansenists
will assert the contrary.”

“Strange! father,” returned I; “is this, then, the heresy
of the Jansenists, to deny that every time a man commits a
sin, he is troubled with a remorse of conscience, in spite of
which, he ‘leaps the fence and transgresses,’ as Father
Bauny has it? It is rather too good a joke to be made a
heretic for that. I can easily believe that a man may be
damned for not having good thoughts; but it never would
have entered my head to imagine that any man could be
subjected to that doom for not believing that all mankind
must have good thoughts! But, father, I hold myself bound
in conscience to disabuse you, and to inform you that there
are thousands of people who have no such desires—who sin
without regret—who sin with delight—who make a boast of
sinning. And who ought to know better about these things
than yourself? You cannot have failed to have confessed
some of those to whom I allude; for it is among persons of
high rank that they are most generally to be met with.[125]
.bn 107.png
.pn +1
But mark, father, the dangerous consequences of your maxim.
Do you not perceive what effect it may have on those libertines
who like nothing better than to find out matter of
doubt in religion? What a handle do you give them, when
you assure them, as an article of faith, that on every occasion
when they commit a sin, they feel an inward presentiment of
the evil, and a desire to avoid it? Is it not obvious that,
feeling convinced by their own experience of the falsity of
your doctrine on this point, which you say is a matter of
faith, they will extend the inference drawn from this to all
the other points? They will argue that, since you are not
trust-worthy in one article, you are to be suspected in them
all; and thus you shut them up to conclude, either that
religion is false, or that you must know very little about it.”

.pm fns 125
The Jesuits were notorious for the assiduity with which they sought
admission into the families, and courted the confidence of the great, with
whom, from the laxness of their discipline and morality, as well as from
their superior manners and accomplishments, they were, as they still
are, the favorite confessors. They have a maxim among their secret
instructions, that in dealing with the consciences of the great, the confessor
must be guided by the looser sort of opinions. The author of the
<cite>Theatre Jesuitique</cite> illustrates this by an anecdote. A rich gentleman
falling sick, confessed himself to a Jesuit, and among other sins acknowledged
an illicit intercourse with a lady, whose portrait, thinking
himself dying, he gave with many expressions of remorse, to his confessor.
The gentleman, however, recovered, and with returning health
a salutary change was effected on his character. The Jesuit, finding
himself forgotten, paid a visit to his former penitent, and gave him back
the portrait, which renewed all his former passion, and soon brought
him again to the feet of his confessor!
.pm fne

Here my friend the Jansenist, following up my remarks,
said to him: “You would do well, father, if you wish to
preserve your doctrine, not to explain so precisely as you
have done to us, what you mean by <em>actual grace</em>. For, how
could you, without forfeiting all credit in the estimation of
men, openly declare that <em>nobody sins without having previously
the knowledge of his weakness, and of a physician, or
the desire of a cure, and of asking it of God</em>? Will it be
believed, on your word, that those who are immersed in
avarice, impurity, blasphemy, duelling, revenge, robbery and
sacrilege, have really a desire to embrace chastity, humility,
and the other Christian virtues? Can it be conceived that
those philosophers who boasted so loudly of the powers
of nature, knew its infirmity and its physician? Will you
maintain that those who held it as a settled maxim that ‘it
is not God that bestows virtue, and that no one ever asked
it from him,’ would think of asking it for themselves? Who
can believe that the Epicureans, who denied a divine providence,
ever felt any inclination to pray to God?—men who
.bn 108.png
.pn +1
said that ‘it would be an insult to invoke the Deity in our
necessities, as if he were capable of wasting a thought on
beings like us?’ In a word, how can it be imagined that
idolaters and Atheists, every time they are tempted to the
commission of sin, in other words, infinitely often during their
lives, have a desire to pray to the true God, of whom they
are ignorant, that he would bestow on them virtues of which
they have no conception?”

“Yes,” said the worthy monk, in a resolute tone, “we
will affirm it: and sooner than allow that any one sins without
having the consciousness that he is doing evil, and the
desire of the opposite virtue, we will maintain that the whole
world, reprobates and infidels included, have these inspirations
and desires in every case of temptation. You cannot
show me, from the Scripture at least, that this is not the
truth.”

On this remark I struck in, by exclaiming: “What! father,
must we have recourse to the Scripture to demonstrate
a thing so clear as this? This is not a point of faith, nor
even of reason. It is a matter of fact: we see it—we know
it—we feel it.”

But the Jansenist, keeping the monk to his own terms,
addressed him as follows: “If you are willing, father, to
stand or fall by Scripture, I am ready to meet you there;
only you must promise to yield to its authority; and since it
is written that ‘God has not revealed his judgments to the
Heathen, but left them to wander in their own ways,’ you
must not say that God has enlightened those whom the Sacred
Writings assure us ‘he has left in darkness and in the
shadow of death.’ Is it not enough to show the erroneousness
of your principle, to find that St. Paul calls himself ‘the
chief of sinners,’ for a sin which he committed ‘ignorantly,
and with zeal?’ Is it not enough to find, from the Gospel,
that those who crucified Jesus Christ had need of the pardon
which he asked for them, although they knew not the malice
of their action, and would never have committed it, according
to St. Paul, if they had known it? Is it not enough that
.bn 109.png
.pn +1
Jesus Christ apprizes us that there will be persecutors of the
Church, who, while making every effort to ruin her, will
‘think that they are doing God service;’ teaching us that
this sin, which in the judgment of the apostle, is the greatest
of all sins, may be committed by persons who, so far from
knowing that they were sinning, would think that they sinned
by not committing it? In fine, is it not enough that Jesus
Christ himself has taught us that there are two kinds of
sinners, the one of whom sin with ‘knowledge of their Master’s
will,’ and the other without knowledge; and that both
of them will be ‘chastised,’ although, indeed, in a different
manner?”

Sorely pressed by so many testimonies from Scripture, to
which he had appealed, the worthy monk began to give way;
and, leaving the wicked to sin without inspiration, he said:
“You will not deny that <em>good men</em>, at least, never sin unless
God give them”——“You are flinching,” said I, interrupting
him; “you are flinching now, my good father; you abandon
the general principle, and finding that it will not hold good
in regard to the wicked, you would compound the matter, by
making it apply at least to the righteous. But in this point
of view the application of it is, I conceive, so circumscribed,
that it will hardly apply to anybody, and it is scarcely worth
while to dispute the point.”

My friend, however, who was so ready on the whole question,
that I am inclined to think he had studied it all that
very morning, replied: “This, father, is the last entrenchment
to which those of your party who are willing to reason
at all are sure to retreat; but you are far from being safe
even here. The example of the saints is not a whit more in
your favor. Who doubts that they often fall into sins of
surprise, without being conscious of them? Do we not learn
from the saints themselves how often concupiscence lays hidden
snares for them; and how generally it happens, as St.
Augustine complains of himself in his Confessions, that, with
all their discretion, they ‘give to pleasure what they mean
only to give to necessity?’
.bn 110.png
.pn +1

“How usual is it to see the more zealous friends of truth
betrayed by the heat of controversy into sallies of bitter passion
for their personal interests, while their consciences, at
the time, bear them no other testimony than that they are
acting in this manner purely for the interests of truth, and
they do not discover their mistake till long afterwards!

“What, again, shall we say of those who, as we learn from
examples in ecclesiastical history, eagerly involve themselves
in affairs which are really bad, because they believe them to be
really good; and yet this does not hinder the fathers from condemning
such persons as having sinned on these occasions?

“And were this not the case, how could the saints have
their secret faults? How could it be true that God alone
knows the magnitude and the number of our offences; that
no one knows whether he is worthy of hatred or love; and
that the best of saints, though unconscious of any culpability,
ought always, as St. Paul says of himself, to remain in
‘fear and trembling?’[126]

.pm fns 126
“The doubtsome faith of the pope,” as it was styled by our Reformers,
is here lamentably apparent. The “fear and trembling” of the
apostle were those of anxious care and diligence, not of doubt or apprehension.
The Church of Rome, with all her pretensions to be regarded
as the only safe and infallible guide to salvation, keeps her children in
darkness and doubt on this point to the last moment of life; they are
never permitted to reach the peaceful assurance of God’s love and the
humble hope of eternal life which the Gospel warrants the believer to
cherish; and this, while it serves to keep the superstitious multitude under
the sway of priestly domination, accounts for the <em>gloom</em> which has
characterized, in all ages, the devotion of the best and most intelligent
Romanists.
.pm fne

“You perceive, then, father, that this knowledge of the
evil, and love of the opposite virtue, which you imagine to be
essential to constitute sin, are equally disproved by the examples
of the righteous and of the wicked. In the case of the
wicked, their passion for vice sufficiently testifies that they
have no desire for virtue; and in regard to the righteous, the
love which they bear to virtue plainly shows that they are
not always conscious of those sins which, as the Scripture
teaches, they are daily committing.

“So true is it, indeed, that the righteous often sin through
.bn 111.png
.pn +1
ignorance, that the greatest saints rarely sin otherwise. For
how can it be supposed that souls so pure, who avoid with
so much care and zeal the least things that can be displeasing
to God as soon as they discover them, and who yet sin many
times every day, could possibly have, every time before they
fell into sin, ‘the knowledge of their infirmity on that occasion,
and of their physician, and the desire of their souls’
health, and of praying to God for assistance,’ and that, in
spite of these inspirations, these devoted souls ‘nevertheless
transgress,’ and commit the sin?

“You must conclude then, father, that neither sinners nor
yet saints have always that knowledge, or those desires and
inspirations every time they offend; that is, to use your own
terms, they have not always actual grace. Say no longer,
with your modern authors, that it is impossible for those to
sin who do not know righteousness; but rather join with St.
Augustine and the ancient fathers in saying that it is impossible
<em>not</em> to sin, when we do not know righteousness: <lang=la><i>Necesse
est ut peccet, a quo ignoratur justitia</i></lang>.”

The good father, though thus driven from both of his positions,
did not lose courage, but after ruminating a little,
“Ha!” he exclaimed, “I shall settle you immediately.” And
again taking up Father Bauny, he pointed to the same place
he had before quoted, exclaiming: “Look now—see the
ground on which he establishes his opinion! I was sure he
would not be deficient in good proofs. Read what he quotes
from Aristotle, and you will see that after so express an authority,
you must either burn the books of this prince of philosophers
or adopt our opinion. Hear, then, the principles which
support Father Bauny: Aristotle states first, ‘<em>that an action
cannot be imputed as blameworthy, if it be involuntary</em>.’”

“I grant that,” said my friend.

“This is the first time you have agreed together,” said I.
“Take my advice, father, and proceed no further.”

“That would be doing nothing,” he replied; “we must
know what are the conditions necessary to constitute an action
voluntary.”
.bn 112.png
.pn +1

“I am much afraid,” returned I, “that you will get at
loggerheads on that point.”

“No fear of that,” said he; “this is sure ground—Aristotle
is on my side. Hear, now, what Father Bauny says:
‘In order that an action be voluntary, it must proceed from
a man who perceives, knows, and comprehends what is good
and what is evil in it. <lang=la><i>Voluntarium est</i></lang>—that is a voluntary
action, as we commonly say with the philosopher’ (that is
Aristotle, you know, said the monk, squeezing my hand;)
‘<lang=la><i>quod fit a principio cognoscente singula in quibus est actio</i></lang>—which
is done by a person knowing the particulars of the action;
so that when the will is led inconsiderately, and without
mature reflection, to embrace or reject, to do or omit to
do anything, before the understanding has been able to see
whether it would be right or wrong, such an action is neither
good nor evil; because previous to this mental inquisition,
view, and reflection on the good or bad qualities of the matter
in question, the act by which it is done is not voluntary.’
Are you satisfied now?” said the father.

“It appears,” returned I, “that Aristotle agrees with Father
Bauny; but that does not prevent me from feeling surprised
at this statement. What, sir! is it not enough to make
an action voluntary that the man knows what he is doing, and
does it just because he chooses to do it? Must we suppose,
besides this, that he ‘perceives, knows, and comprehends
what is good and evil in the action?’ Why, on this supposition
there would be hardly such a thing in nature as voluntary
actions, for nobody almost thinks about all this. How
many oaths in gambling—how many excesses in debauchery—how
many riotous extravagances in the carnival, must, on
this principle, be excluded from the list of voluntary actions,
and consequently neither good nor bad, because not accompanied
by those ‘mental reflections on the good and evil qualities’
of the action? But is it possible, father, that Aristotle
held such a sentiment? I have always understood that he
was a sensible man.”

“I shall soon convince you of that,” said the Jansenist;
.bn 113.png
.pn +1
and requesting a sight of Aristotle’s Ethics, he opened it at
the beginning of the third book, from which Father Bauny
had taken the passage quoted, and said to the monk: “I excuse
you, my dear sir, for having believed, on the word of
Father Bauny, that Aristotle held such a sentiment; but you
would have changed your mind had you read him for yourself.
It is true that he teaches, that ‘in order to make an
action voluntary, we must know the particulars of that action’—<lang=la><i>singula
in quibus est actio</i></lang>. But what else does he
mean by that, than the <em>particular circumstances</em> of the action?
The examples which he adduces clearly show this to
be his meaning, for they are exclusively confined to cases in
which the persons were ignorant of some of the circumstances;
such as that of ‘a person who, wishing to exhibit a machine,
discharges a dart which wounds a bystander; and that
of Merope, who killed her own son instead of her enemy,’
and such like.

“Thus you see what is the kind of ignorance that renders
actions involuntary; namely, that of the particular circumstances,
which is termed by divines, as you must know, <em>ignorance
of the fact</em>. But with respect to <em>ignorance of the right</em>—ignorance
of the good or evil in an action—which is the
only point in question, let us see if Aristotle agrees with Father
Bauny. Here are the words of the philosopher: ‘All
wicked men are ignorant of what they ought to do, and what
they ought to avoid; and it is this very ignorance which
makes them wicked and vicious. Accordingly, a man cannot
be said to act involuntarily merely because he is ignorant of
what it is proper for him to do in order to fulfil his duty.
This ignorance in the choice of good and evil does not make
the action involuntary; it only makes it vicious. The same
thing may be affirmed of the man who is ignorant generally
of the rules of his duty; such ignorance is worthy of blame,
not of excuse. And consequently, the ignorance which renders
actions involuntary and excusable is simply that which
relates to the fact and its particular circumstances. In this
.bn 114.png
.pn +1
case the person is excused and forgiven, being considered as
having acted contrary to his inclination.’

“After this, father, will you maintain that Aristotle is of
your opinion? And who can help being astonished to find
that a Pagan philosopher had more enlightened views than
your doctors, in a matter so deeply affecting morals, and the
direction of conscience, too, as the knowledge of those conditions
which render actions voluntary or involuntary, and
which, accordingly, charge or discharge them as sinful?
Look for no more support, then, father, from the prince of
philosophers, and no longer oppose yourselves to the prince
of theologians,[127] who has thus decided the point in the first
book of his Retractations, chapter <sc>XV.</sc>: ‘Those who sin
through ignorance, though they sin without meaning to sin,
commit the deed only because they <em>will</em> commit it. And,
therefore, even this sin of ignorance cannot be committed
except by the will of him who commits it, though by a will
which incites him to the action merely, and not to the sin;
and yet the action itself is nevertheless sinful, for it is enough
to constitute it such that he has done what he was bound
not to do.’”

.pm fns 127
Augustine.
.pm fne

The Jesuit seemed to be confounded more with the passage
from Aristotle, I thought, than that from St. Augustine;
but while he was thinking on what he could reply, a messenger
came to inform him that Madame la Mareschale of ——,
and Madame the Marchioness of ——, requested his attendance.
So taking a hasty leave of us, he said: “I shall speak
about it to our fathers. They will find an answer to it, I
warrant you; we have got some long heads among us.”

We understood him perfectly well; and on our being left
alone, I expressed to my friend my astonishment at the subversion
which this doctrine threatened to the whole system
of morals. To this he replied that he was quite astonished
at my astonishment. “Are you not yet aware,” he
said, “that they have gone to far greater excess in morals
.bn 115.png
.pn +1
than in any other matter?” He gave me some strange
illustrations of this, promising me more at some future
time. The information which I may receive on this point,
will, I hope, furnish the topic of my next communication.—I
am, &c.

.fm lz=t

.bn 116.png
.pn +1

.sp 4
.h2
LETTER V.

.fs 80%
.in +3
.ti -3
DESIGN OF THE JESUITS IN ESTABLISHING A NEW SYSTEM OF MORALS—TWO
SORTS OF CASUISTS AMONG THEM, A GREAT MANY
LAX, AND SOME SEVERE ONES—REASON OF THIS DIFFERENCE—EXPLANATION
OF THE DOCTRINE OF PROBABILITY—A MULTITUDE
OF MODERN AND UNKNOWN AUTHORS SUBSTITUTED IN THE PLACE
OF THE HOLY FATHERS.
.in
.fs

.sp 2

.rj
<sc>Paris</sc>, <i>March 20, 1656</i>.

<sc>Sir</sc>,—According to my promise, I now send you the first
outlines of the morals taught by those good fathers the Jesuits—“those
men distinguished for learning and sagacity,
who are all under the guidance of divine wisdom—a surer
guide than all philosophy.” You imagine, perhaps, that I
am in jest, but I am perfectly serious; or rather, they are so
when they speak thus of themselves in their book entitled
“The Image of the First Century.”[128] I am only copying
their own words, and may now give you the rest of the eulogy:
“They are a society of men, or rather let us call them
angels, predicted by Isaiah in these words, ‘Go, ye swift and
ready angels.’”[129] The prediction is as clear as day, is it not?
“They have the spirit of eagles; they are a flock of phœnixes
(a late author having demonstrated that there are a
great many of these birds); they have changed the face of
Christendom!” Of course, we must believe all this, since
.bn 117.png
.pn +1
they have said it; and in one sense you will find the account
amply verified by the sequel of this communication, in which
I propose to treat of their maxims.

.pm fns 128
<cite>Imago Primi Seculi.</cite>—The work to which Pascal here refers was
printed by the Jesuits in Flanders in the year 1640, under the title of
“L’Image du Premier Siècle de la Société de Jesus,” being a history
of the Society of the Jesuits from the period of its establishment in 1540—a
century before the publication. The work itself is very rare, and
would probably have fallen into oblivion, had not the substance of it
been embodied in a little treatise, itself also scarce, entitled “La Morale
Pratique des Jésuites.” The small specimen which Pascal has given
conveys but an imperfect idea of the mingled blasphemy and absurdity
of this Jesuitical production.
.pm fne

.pm fns 129
Isa. xviii. 2.
.pm fne

Determined to obtain the best possible information, I did
not trust to the representations of our friend the Jansenist,
but sought an interview with some of themselves. I found,
however, that he told me nothing but the bare truth, and I
am persuaded he is an honest man. Of this you may judge
from the following account of these conferences.

In the conversation I had with the Jansenist, he told me
so many strange things about these fathers, that I could with
difficulty believe them, till he pointed them out to me in
their writings; after which he left me nothing more to say in
their defence, than that these might be the sentiments of
some individuals only, which it was not fair to impute to the
whole fraternity.[130] And, indeed, I assured him that I knew
some of them who were as severe as those whom he quoted
to me were lax. This led him to explain to me the spirit of
the Society, which is not known to every one; and you will
perhaps have no objections to learn something about it.

.pm fns 130
The reader is requested to notice how completely the charge brought
against the Provincial Letters by Voltaire and others is here anticipated
and refuted. (See Hist. Introduction.)
.pm fne

“You imagine,” he began, “that it would tell considerably
in their favor to show that some of their fathers are as friendly
to Evangelical maxims as others are opposed to them; and
you would conclude from that circumstance, that these loose
opinions do not belong to the whole Society. That I grant
you; for had such been the case, they would not have suffered
persons among them holding sentiments so diametrically
opposed to licentiousness. But as it is equally true
that there are among them those who hold these licentious
doctrines, you are bound also to conclude that the Spirit of
the Society is not that of Christian severity; for had such been
the case, they would not have suffered persons among them
holding sentiments so diametrically opposed to that severity.”

“And what, then,” I asked, “can be the design of the
.bn 118.png
.pn +1
whole as a body? Perhaps they have no fixed principle,
and every one is left to speak out at random whatever he
thinks.”

“That cannot be,” returned my friend; “such an immense
body could not subsist in such a hap-hazard sort of
way, or without a soul to govern and regulate its movements;
besides, it is one of their express regulations, that
none shall print a page without the approval of their superiors.”

“But,” said I, “how can these same superiors give their
consent to maxims so contradictory?”

“That is what you have yet to learn,” he replied. “Know,
then, that their object is not the corruption of manners—that
is not their design. But as little is it their sole aim to
reform them—that would be bad policy. Their idea is
briefly this: They have such a good opinion of themselves
as to believe that it is useful, and in some sort essentially necessary
to the good of religion, that their influence should
extend everywhere, and that they should govern all consciences.
And the Evangelical or severe maxims being best
fitted for managing some sorts of people, they avail themselves
of these when they find them favorable to their purpose.
But as these maxims do not suit the views of the
great bulk of people, they wave them in the case of such
persons, in order to keep on good terms with all the world.
Accordingly, having to deal with persons of all classes and
of all different nations, they find it necessary to have casuists
cut out to match this diversity.

“On this principle, you will easily see that if they had
none but the looser sort of casuists, they would defeat their
main design, which is to embrace all; for those that are
truly pious are fond of a stricter discipline. But as there
are not many of that stamp, they do not require many severe
directors to guide them. They have a few for the select
few; while whole multitudes of lax casuists are provided for
the multitudes that prefer laxity.[131]

.pm fns 131
“It must be observed that most of those Jesuits who were so severe
in their writings, were less so towards their penitents. It has been said
of Bourdaloue himself that if he required too much in the pulpit, he
abated it in the confessional chair: a new stroke of policy well understood
on the part of the Jesuits, inasmuch as speculative severity suits
persons of rigid morals, and practical condescension attracts the multitude.”
(D’Alembert, Account of Dest. of Jesuits, p. 44.)
.pm fne
.bn 119.png
.pn +1

“It is in virtue of this ‘obliging and accommodating’ conduct,
as Father Petau[132] calls it, that they may be said to
stretch out a helping hand to all mankind. Should any person
present himself before them, for example, fully resolved
to make restitution of some ill-gotten gains, do not suppose
that they would dissuade him from it. By no means; on
the contrary, they will applaud and confirm him in such a
holy resolution. But suppose another should come who
wishes to be absolved without restitution, and it will be a
particularly hard case indeed, if they cannot furnish him
with means of evading the duty, of one kind or another, the
lawfulness of which they will be ready to guarantee.

.pm fns 132
Petau was one of the obscure writers who were employed by the
Jesuits to publish defamatory libels against M. Arnauld and the bishops
who approved of his book on Frequent Communion. (Coudrette, ii.
426.)
.pm fne

“By this policy they keep all their friends, and defend
themselves against all their foes; for, when charged with
extreme laxity, they have nothing more to do than produce
their austere directors, with some books which they have
written on the severity of the Christian code of morals; and
simple people, or those who never look below the surface of
things, are quite satisfied with these proofs of the falsity of
the accusation.

“Thus are they prepared for all sorts of persons, and so
ready are they to suit the supply to the demand, that when
they happen to be in any part of the world where the doctrine
of a crucified God is accounted foolishness, they suppress
the offence of the cross, and preach only a glorious and not
a suffering Jesus Christ. This plan they followed in the
Indies and in China, where they permitted Christians to practise
idolatry itself, with the aid of the following ingenious
contrivance:—they made their converts conceal under their
clothes an image of Jesus Christ, to which they taught them
.bn 120.png
.pn +1
to transfer mentally those adorations which they rendered
ostensibly to the idol Cachinchoam and Keum-fucum. This
charge is brought against them by Gravina, a Dominican,
and is fully established by the Spanish memorial presented
to Philip IV., king of Spain, by the Cordeliers of the Philippine
Islands, quoted by Thomas Hurtado, in his ‘Martyrdom
of the Faith,’ page 427. To such a length did this practice
go, that the Congregation <lang=la><i>De Propaganda</i></lang> were obliged expressly
to forbid the Jesuits, on pain of excommunication, to
permit the worship of idols on any pretext whatever, or to
conceal the mystery of the cross from their catechumens;
strictly enjoining them to admit none to baptism who were
not thus instructed, and ordering them to expose the image
of the crucifix in their churches:—all which is amply detailed
in the decree of that Congregation, dated the 9th of
July, 1646, and signed by Cardinal Capponi.[133]

.pm fns 133
The policy to which Pascal refers was introduced by Matthew
Ricci, an Italian Jesuit, who succeeded the famous Francis Xavier in
attempting to convert the Chinese. Ricci declared that, after consulting
the writings of the Chinese literati, he was persuaded that the Xamti
and Cachinchoam of the mandarins were merely other names for the
King of Heaven, and that the idolatries of the natives were harmless
civil ceremonies. He therefore allowed his converts to practise them, on
the condition mentioned in the text. In 1631, some new paladins of the
orders of Dominic and Francis, who came from the Philippine Islands
to share in the spiritual conquest of that vast empire, were grievously
scandalized at the monstrous compromise between Christianity and
idolatry tolerated by the followers of Loyola, and carried their complaints
to Rome. The result is illustrative of the papal policy. Pope
Innocent X. condemned the Jesuitical policy; Pope Alexander VII., in
1656 (when this letter was written) sanctioned it; and in 1669, Pope
Clement IX. ordained that the decrees of <em>both</em> of his predecessors should
continue in full force. The Jesuits, availing themselves of this suspense,
paid no regard either to the popes or their rival orders, the
Dominicans and Franciscans, who, in the persecutions which ensued,
always came off with the worst. (Coudrette, iv. 281; Hist. of D. Ign.
Loyola, pp. 97–112.)

The prescription given to the Jesuits by the cardinals, to expose the
image of the crucifix in their churches, appears to us a sort of homœopathic
cure, very little better than the disease. Bossuet, and others
who have tried to soften down the doctrines of Rome, would represent
the worship ostensibly paid to the crucifix as really paid to Christ, who
is represented by it. But even this does not accord with the determination
of the Council of Trent, which declared of images <lang=la><i>Eisque venerationem
impertiendam</i></lang>; or with Bellarmine who devotes a chapter expressly
to prove that true and proper worship is to be given to images.
(Stillingfleet on Popery, by Dr. Cunningham, p. 77.)
.pm fne
.bn 121.png
.pn +1

“Such is the manner in which they have spread themselves
over the whole earth, aided by <em>the doctrine of probable opinions</em>,
which is at once the source and the basis of all this
licentiousness. You must get some of themselves to explain
this doctrine to you. They make no secret of it, any more
than of what you have already learned; with this difference
only, that they conceal their carnal and worldly policy under
the garb of divine and Christian prudence; as if the faith,
and tradition its ally, were not always one and the same at
all times and in all places; as if it were the part of the rule
to bend in conformity to the subject which it was meant to
regulate; and as if souls, to be purified from their pollutions,
had only to corrupt the law of the Lord, in place of ‘the
law of the Lord, which is clean and pure, converting the soul
which lieth in sin,’ and bringing it into conformity with its
salutary lessons!

“Go and see some of these worthy fathers, I beseech you,
and I am confident that you will soon discover, in the laxity
of their moral system, the explanation of their doctrine about
grace. You will then see the Christian virtues exhibited in
such a strange aspect, so completely stripped of the charity
which is the life and soul of them—you will see so many
crimes palliated and irregularities tolerated, that you will no
longer be surprised at their maintaining that ‘all men have
always enough of grace’ to lead a pious life, in the sense in
which they understand piety. Their morality being entirely
Pagan, nature is quite competent to its observance. When
we maintain the necessity of efficacious grace, we assign it
another sort of virtue for its object. Its office is not to cure
one vice by means of another; it is not merely to induce men
to practise the external duties of religion: it aims at a virtue
higher than that propounded by Pharisees, or the greatest
sages of Heathenism. The law and reason are ‘sufficient
graces’ for these purposes. But to disenthral the soul from
the love of the world—to tear it from what it holds most
dear—to make it die to itself—to lift it up and bind it wholly,
only, and forever, to God—can be the work of none but an
.bn 122.png
.pn +1
all-powerful hand. And it would be as absurd to affirm that
we have the full power of achieving such objects, as it would
be to allege that those virtues, devoid of the love of God,
which these fathers confound with the virtues of Christianity,
are beyond our power.”

Such was the strain of my friend’s discourse, which was
delivered with much feeling; for he takes these sad disorders
very much to heart. For my own part, I began to entertain
a high admiration of these fathers, simply on account of the
ingenuity of their policy; and following his advice, I waited
on a good casuist of the Society, one of my old acquaintances,
with whom I now resolved purposely to renew my
former intimacy. Having my instructions how to manage
them, I had no great difficulty in getting him afloat. Retaining
his old attachment, he received me immediately with a
profusion of kindness; and after talking over some indifferent
matters, I took occasion from the present season,[134] to learn
something from him about fasting, and thus slip insensibly
into the main subject. I told him, therefore, that I had difficulty
in supporting the fast. He exhorted me to do violence
to my inclinations; but as I continued to murmur, he took
pity on me, and began to search out some ground for a dispensation.
In fact he suggested a number of excuses for
me, none of which happened to suit my case, till at length
he bethought himself of asking me, whether I did not find
it difficult to sleep without taking supper? “Yes, my good
father,” said I; “and for that reason I am obliged often to
take a refreshment at mid-day, and supper at night.”[135]

.pm fns 134
Lent.
.pm fne

.pm fns 135
“According to the rules of the Roman Catholic fast, one meal alone
is allowed on a fast-day. Many, however, fall off before the end of
Lent, and take to their breakfast and suppers, under the sanction of
some good-natured doctor, who declares fasting injurious to their health.”
(Blanco White, Letters from Spain, p. 272.)
.pm fne

“I am extremely happy,” he replied, “to have found out
a way of relieving you without sin: go in peace—you are
under no obligation to fast. However, I would not have you
depend on my word: step this way to the library.”
.bn 123.png
.pn +1

On going thither with him he took up a book, exclaiming,
with great rapture, “Here is the authority for you: and, by
my conscience, such an authority! It is <sc>Escobar</sc>!”[136]

.pm fns 136
Father Antoine Escobar of Mendoza was a Jesuit of Spain, and born
at Valladolid in 1589, where he died in 1669. His principal work is his
“Exposition of Uncontroverted Opinions in Moral Theology,” in six volumes.
It abounds with the most licentious doctrines, and being a compilation
from numerous Jesuitical writers, afforded a rich field for the satire
of Pascal. The characteristic absurdity of this author is, that his questions
uniformly exhibit two faces—an affirmative and a negative;—so that
<em>escobarderie</em> became a synonym in France for <em>duplicity</em>. (Biographie
Pittoresque des Jesuites, par M. C. de Plancy, Paris, 1826, p. 38.) Nicole
tells us that he had in his possession a portrait of the casuist which
gave him a “resolute and decisive cast of countenance”—not exactly
what might have been expected from his double-faced questions. His
friends describe Escobar as a good man, a laborious student, and very
devout in his way. It is said that, when he heard that his name and
writings were so frequently noticed in the Provincial Letters, he was
quite overjoyed to think that his fame would extend as far as the <em>little
letters</em> had done. Boileau has celebrated him in the following couplet:—

.nf b
   Si Bourdaloue un peu sévère,
   Nous dit, craignez la volupté:
   Escobar, lui dit-on, mon père,
   Nous la permet pour la santé.

“If Bourdaloue, a little too severe,
 Cries, Fly from pleasure’s fatal fascination
 Dear Father, cries another, Escoba,
 Permits it as a healthy relaxation.”
.nf-

.pm fne

“Who is Escobar?” I inquired.

“What! not know Escobar?” cried the monk; “the member
of our Society who compiled this Moral Theology from
twenty-four of our fathers, and on this founds an analogy, in
his preface, between his book and ‘that in the Apocalypse
which was sealed with seven seals,’ and states that ‘Jesus
presents it thus sealed to the four living creatures, Suarez,
Vasquez, Molina, and Valencia,[137] in presence of the four-and-twenty
Jesuits who represent the four-and-twenty elders?’”

.pm fns 137
Four celebrated casuists.
.pm fne

He read me, in fact, the whole of that allegory, which he
pronounced to be admirably appropriate, and which conveyed
to my mind a sublime idea of the excellence of the work.
At length, having sought out the passage on fasting, “O
here it is!” he said; “treatise 1, example 13, no. 67: ‘If a
.bn 124.png
.pn +1
man cannot sleep without taking supper, is he bound to fast?
Answer: <em>By no means!</em>’ Will that not satisfy you?”

“Not exactly,” replied I; “for I might sustain the fast
by taking my refreshment in the morning, and supping at
night.”

“Listen, then, to what follows; they have provided for
all that: ‘And what is to be said, if the person might make
a shift with a refreshment in the morning and supping at
night?’”

“That’s my case exactly.”

“‘Answer: Still he is not obliged to fast; because no
person is obliged to change the order of his meals.’”

“A most excellent reason!” I exclaimed.

“But tell me, pray,” continued the monk, “do you take
much wine?”

“No, my dear father,” I answered; “I cannot endure it.”

“I merely put the question,” returned he, “to apprize
you that you might, without breaking the fast, take a glass
or so in the morning, or whenever you felt inclined for a
drop; and that is always something in the way of supporting
nature. Here is the decision at the same place, no. 57:
‘May one, without breaking the fast, drink wine at any hour
he pleases, and even in a large quantity? Yes, he may:
and a dram of hippocrass too.’[138] I had no recollection of
the hippocrass,” said the monk; “I must take a note of that
in my memorandum-book.”

.pm fns 138
<i>Hippocrass</i>—a medicated wine.
.pm fne

“He must be a nice man, this Escobar,” observed I.

“Oh! everybody likes him,” rejoined the father; “he has
such delightful questions! Only observe this one in the
same place, no. 38: ‘If a man doubt whether he is twenty-one
years old, is he obliged to fast?[139] No. But suppose I
were to be twenty-one to-night an hour after midnight, and
to-morrow were the fast, would I be obliged to fast to-morrow?
.bn 125.png
.pn +1
No; for you were at liberty to eat as much as you
pleased for an hour after midnight, not being till then fully
twenty-one; and therefore having a right to break the fast-day,
you are not obliged to keep it.’”

.pm fns 139
All persons above the age of one-and-twenty are bound to observe
the rules of the Roman Catholic fast during Lent. The obligation of
fasting begins at midnight, just when the leading clock of every town
strikes twelve. (Letters from Spain, p. 270.)
.pm fne

“Well, that is vastly entertaining!” cried I.

“Oh,” rejoined the father, “it is impossible to tear one’s
self away from the book: I spend whole days and nights in
reading it; in fact, I do nothing else.”

The worthy monk, perceiving that I was interested, was
quite delighted, and went on with his quotations. “Now,”
said he, “for a taste of Filiutius, one of the four-and-twenty
Jesuits: ‘Is a man who has exhausted himself any way—by
profligacy, for example[140]—obliged to fast? By no means.
But if he has exhausted himself expressly to procure a dispensation
from fasting, will he be held obliged? He will not,
even though he should have had that design.’ There now!
would you have believed that?”

.pm fns 140
<lang=la><i>Ad insequendam amicam.</i></lang> (Tom. ii. tr. 27, part 2, c. 6, n. 143.) The
accuracy with which the references are made to the writings of these
casuists shows anything but a design to garble or misrepresent them.
.pm fne

“Indeed, good father, I do not believe it yet,” said I.
“What! is it no sin for a man not to fast when he has it in
his power? And is it allowable to court occasions of committing
sin, or rather, are we not bound to shun them?
That would be easy enough, surely.”

“Not always so,” he replied; “that is just as it may
happen.”

“Happen, how?” cried I.

“Oho!” rejoined the monk, “so you think that if a person
experience some inconvenience in avoiding the occasions of
sin, he is still bound to do so? Not so thinks Father Bauny.
‘Absolution,’ says he, ‘is not to be refused to such as continue
in the proximate occasions of sin,[141] if they are so situated
that they cannot give them up without becoming the
.bn 126.png
.pn +1
common talk of the world, or subjecting themselves to personal
inconvenience.’”

.pm fns 141
In the technical language of theology, an “occasion of sin” is any
situation or course of conduct which has a tendency to induce the commission
of sin. “Proximate occasions” are those which have a direct
and immediate tendency of this kind.
.pm fne

“I am glad to hear it, father,” I remarked; “and now
that we are not obliged to avoid the occasions of sin, nothing
more remains but to say that we may deliberately court
them.”

“Even that is occasionally permitted,” added he; “the
celebrated casuist Basil Ponce has said so, and Father Bauny
quotes his sentiment with approbation, in his Treatise on
Penance, as follows: ‘We may seek an occasion of sin directly
and designedly—<lang=la><i>primo et per se</i></lang>—when our own or
our neighbor’s spiritual or temporal advantage induces us
to do so.’”

“Truly,” said I, “it appears to be all a dream to me,
when I hear grave divines talking in this manner! Come
now, my dear father, tell me conscientiously, do <em>you</em> hold
such a sentiment as that?”

“No, indeed,” said he, “I do not.”

“You are speaking, then, against your conscience,” continued
I.

“Not at all,” he replied; “I was speaking on that point
not according to my own conscience, but according to that
of Ponce and Father Bauny, and them you may follow with
the utmost safety, for I assure you that they are able men.”

“What, father! because they have put down these three
lines in their books, will it therefore become allowable to
court the occasions of sin? I always thought that we were
bound to take the Scripture and the tradition of the Church
as our only rule, and not your casuists.”

“Goodness!” cried the monk, “I declare you put me
in mind of these Jansenists. Think you that Father Bauny
and Basil Ponce are not able to render their opinion <em>probable</em>?”

“Probable won’t do for me,” said I; “I must have
certainty.”

“I can easily see,” replied the good father, “that you
know nothing about our doctrine of <em>probable opinions</em>. If
.bn 127.png
.pn +1
you did, you would speak in another strain. Ah! my dear
sir, I must really give you some instructions on this point;
without knowing this, positively you can understand nothing
at all. It is the foundation—the very <sc>A</sc>, <sc>B</sc>, <sc>C</sc>, of our whole
moral philosophy.”

Glad to see him come to the point to which I had been
drawing him on, I expressed my satisfaction, and requested
him to explain what was meant by a probable opinion?[142]

.pm fns 142
“The casuists are divided into <lang=la><i>Probabilistæ</i></lang> and <lang=la><i>Probabilioristæ</i></lang>.
The first, among whom were the Jesuits, maintain that a certain degree
of probability as to the lawfulness of an action is enough to secure
against sin. The second, supported by the Dominicans and the Jansenists
(a kind of Catholic Calvinists condemned by the Church), insist
on always taking the <em>safest</em> or most probable side. The French proverb,
<lang=fr><i>Le mieux est l’ennemi, du bien</i></lang>, is perfectly applicable to the practical
effects of these two systems in Spain.” (Letters from Spain, p. 277.)
Nicole has a long dissertation on the subject in his Notes on this Letter.
.pm fne

“That,” he replied, “our authors will answer better than
I can do. The generality of them, and, among others, our
four-and-twenty elders, describe it thus: ‘An opinion is
called probable, when it is founded upon reasons of some
consideration. Hence it may sometimes happen that a single
<em>very grave doctor</em> may render an opinion probable.’ The reason
is added: ‘For a man particularly given to study would
not adhere to an opinion unless he was drawn to it by a
good and sufficient reason.’”

“So it would appear,” I observed, with a smile, “that
a single doctor may turn consciences round about and upside
down as he pleases, and yet always land them in a safe
position.”

“You must not laugh at it, sir,” returned the monk; “nor
need you attempt to combat the doctrine. The Jansenists
tried this; but they might have saved themselves the trouble—it
is too firmly established. Hear Sanchez, one of the
most famous of our fathers: ‘You may doubt, perhaps,
whether the authority of a single good and learned doctor
renders an opinion probable. I answer, that it does; and
this is confirmed by Angelus, Sylvester Navarre, Emanuel
Sa, &c. It is proved thus: A probable opinion is one that
.bn 128.png
.pn +1
has a considerable foundation. Now the authority of a
learned and pious man is entitled to very great consideration;
because (mark the reason), if the testimony of such a
man has great influence in convincing us that such and such
an event occurred, say at Rome, for example, why should
it not have the same weight in the case of a question in
morals?’”

“An odd comparison this,” interrupted I, “between the
concerns of the world and those of conscience!”

“Have a little patience,” rejoined the monk; “Sanchez
answers that in the very next sentence: ‘Nor can I assent to
the qualification made here by some writers, namely, that the
authority of such a doctor, though sufficient in matters of
human right, is not so in those of divine right. It is of vast
weight in both cases.’”

“Well, father,” said I, frankly, “I really cannot admire
that rule. Who can assure me, considering the freedom
your doctors claim to examine everything by reason, that
what appears safe to one may seem so to all the rest? The
diversity of judgments is so great”—

“You don’t understand it,” said he, interrupting me; “no
doubt they are often of different sentiments, but what signifies
that?—each renders his own opinion probable and safe.
We all know well enough that they are far from being of
the same mind; what is more, there is hardly an instance in
which they ever agree. There are very few questions, indeed,
in which you do not find the one saying Yes, and the
other saying No. Still, in all these cases, each of the contrary
opinions is probable. And hence Diana says on a certain
subject: ‘Ponce and Sanchez hold opposite views of it;
but, as they are both learned men, each renders his own
opinion probable.’”

“But, father,” I remarked, “a person must be sadly embarrassed
in choosing between them!”—“Not at all,” he
rejoined; “he has only to follow the opinion which suits
him best.”—“What! if the other is more probable?” “It
does not signify.”—“And if the other is the safer?” “It
.bn 129.png
.pn +1
does not signify,” repeated the monk; “this is made quite
plain by Emanuel Sa, of our Society, in his Aphorisms: ‘A
person may do what he considers allowable according to a
probable opinion, though the contrary may be the safer one.
The opinion of a single grave doctor is all that is requisite.’”

“And if an opinion be at once the less probable and the
less safe, is it allowable to follow it,” I asked, “even in the
way of rejecting one which we believe to be more probable
and safe?”

“Once more, I say Yes,” replied the monk. “Hear what
Filiutius, that great Jesuit of Rome, says: ‘It is allowable
to follow the less probable opinion, even though it be the
less safe one. That is the common judgment of modern
authors.’ Is not that quite clear?”

“Well, reverend father,” said I, “you have given <em>us</em>
elbow-room, at all events! Thanks to your probable opinions,
we have got liberty of conscience with a witness! And
are you casuists allowed the same latitude in giving your
responses?”

“O yes,” said he, “we answer just as we please; or
rather, I should say, just as it may please those who ask our
advice. Here are our rules, taken from Fathers Layman,
Vasquez, Sanchez, and the four-and-twenty worthies, in the
words of Layman: ‘A doctor, on being consulted, may give
an advice, not only probable according to his own opinion,
but contrary to his opinion, provided this judgment happens
to be more favorable or more agreeable to the person
that consults him—<lang=la><i>si forte hæc favorabilior seu exoptatior
sit</i></lang>. Nay, I go further, and say, that there would be nothing
unreasonable in his giving those who consult him a judgment
held to be probable by some learned person, even though
he should be satisfied in his own mind that it is absolutely
false.’”

“Well, seriously, father,” I said, “your doctrine is a most
uncommonly comfortable one! Only think of being allowed
to answer Yes or No, just as you please! It is impossible to
prize such a privilege too highly. I see now the advantage
.bn 130.png
.pn +1
of the contrary opinions of your doctors. One of them always
serves your turn, and the other never gives you any
annoyance. If you do not find your account on the one
side, you fall back on the other, and always land in perfect
safety.”

“That is quite true,” he replied; “and accordingly, we
may always say with Diana, on his finding that Father Bauny
was on his side, while Father Lugo was against him: <lang=la><i>Sæpe
premente deo, fert deus alter opem</i></lang>.”[143]

.pm fns 143
“When one god presses hard, another brings relief.”
.pm fne

“I understand you,” resumed I; “but a practical difficulty
has just occurred to me, which is this, that supposing
a person to have consulted one of your doctors, and obtained
from him a pretty liberal opinion, there is some danger of his
getting into a scrape by meeting a confessor who takes a different
view of the matter, and refuses him absolution unless
he recant the sentiment of the casuist. Have you not provided
for such a case as that, father?”

“Can you doubt it?” he replied. “We have bound them,
sir, to absolve their penitents who act according to probable
opinions, under the pain of mortal sin, to secure their compliance.
‘When the penitent,’ says Father Bauny, ‘follows
a probable opinion, the confessor is bound to absolve him,
though his opinion should differ from that of his penitent.’”

“But he does not say it would be a mortal sin not to absolve
him,” said I.

“How hasty you are!” rejoined the monk; “listen to what
follows; he has expressly decided that, ‘to refuse absolution
to a penitent who acts according to a probable opinion, is a
sin which is in its nature mortal.’ And to settle that point,
he cites the most illustrious of our fathers—Suarez, Vasquez,
and Sanchez.”

“My dear sir,” said I, “that is a most prudent regulation.
I see nothing to fear now. No confessor can dare to be refractory
after this. Indeed, I was not aware that you had
the power of issuing your orders on pain of damnation. I
.bn 131.png
.pn +1
thought that your skill had been confined to the taking away
of sins; I had no idea that it extended to the introduction
of new ones. But from what I now see, you are omnipotent.”

“That is not a correct way of speaking,” rejoined the father.
“We do not introduce sins; we only pay attention to
them. I have had occasion to remark, two or three times
during our conversation, that you are no great scholastic.”

“Be that as it may, father, you have at least answered my
difficulty. But I have another to suggest. How do you
manage when the Fathers of the Church happen to differ
from any of your casuists?”

“You really know very little of the subject,” he replied.
“The Fathers were good enough for the morality of their
own times; but they lived too far back for that of the present
age, which is no longer regulated by them, but by the
modern casuists. On this Father Cellot, following the famous
Reginald, remarks: ‘In questions of morals, the modern casuists
are to be preferred to the ancient fathers, though those
lived nearer to the times of the apostles.’ And following out
this maxim, Diana thus decides: ‘Are beneficiaries bound to
restore their revenue when guilty of mal-appropriation of it?
The ancients would say Yes, but the moderns say No; let us,
therefore, adhere to the latter opinion, which relieves from
the obligation of restitution.’”

“Delightful words these, and most comfortable they must
be to a great many people!” I observed.

“We leave the fathers,” resumed the monk, “to those
who deal with positive divinity.[144] As for us, who are the
.bn 132.png
.pn +1
directors of conscience, we read very little of them, and quote
only the modern casuists. There is Diana, for instance, a
most voluminous writer; he has prefixed to his works a list
of his authorities, which amount to two hundred and ninety-six,
and the most ancient of them is only about eighty years
old.”

.pm fns 144
In the twelfth century, in consequence of the writings of Peter
Lombard, commonly called the “Master of the Sentences,” the Christian
doctors were divided into two classes—the <em>Positive</em> or dogmatic,
and the <em>Scholastic</em> divines. The <em>Positive</em> divines, who were the teachers
of systematic divinity, expounded, though in a wretched manner, the
Sacred Writings, and confirmed their sentiments by Scripture and tradition.
The scholastics, instead of the Bible, explained the book of
Sentences, indulging in the most idle and ridiculous speculations.—“The
practice of choosing a certain priest, not only to be the occasional confessor,
but <em>the director of the conscience</em>, was greatly encouraged by the
Jesuits.” (Letters from Spain, p. 89.)
.pm fne

“It would appear, then,” I remarked, “that all these have
come into the world since the date of your Society?”

“Thereabouts,” he replied.

“That is to say, dear father, on your advent, St. Augustine,
St. Chrysostom, St. Ambrose, St. Jerome, and all the
rest, in so far as morals are concerned, disappeared from the
stage. Would you be so kind as let me know the names, at
least, of those modern authors who have succeeded them?”

“A most able and renowned class of men they are,” replied
the monk. “Their names are, Villabolos, Conink, Llamas,
Achokier, Dealkozer, Dellacrux, Veracruz, Ugolin, Tambourin,
Fernandez, Martinez, Suarez, Henriquez, Vasquez, Lopez,
Gomez, Sanchez, De Vechis, De Grassis, De Grassalis,
De Pitigianis, De Graphœis, Squilanti, Bizozeri, Barcola, De
Bobadilla, Simancha, Perez de Lara, Aldretta, Lorca, De
Scarcia, Quaranta, Scophra, Pedezza, Cabrezza, Bisbe, Dias,
De Clavasis, Villagut, Adam à Manden, Iribarne, Binsfeld,
Volfangi à Vorberg, Vosthery, Strevesdorf.”[145]

.pm fns 145
In this extraordinary list of obscure and now forgotten casuistical
writers, most of them belonging to Spain, Portugal, and Flanders, the
art of the author lies in stringing together the most outlandish names he
could collect, ranging them mostly according to their terminations, and
placing them in contrast with the venerable and well-known names of
the ancient fathers. To a French ear these names must have sounded
as uncouth and barbarous as those of the Scotch which Milton has
satirized to the ear of an Englishman:—

.nf b
“Cries the stall-reader, ‘Bless us! what a word on
 A title-page is this!’ Why, is it harder, sirs, than Gordon,
 Colkitto, or Macdonnel, or Galasp?
 Those rugged names to our like mouths grow sleek,
 That would have made Quintilian stare and gasp.”
.nf-

.rj
(Milton’s Minor Poems.)

.pm fne

“O my dear father!” cried I, quite alarmed, “were all
these people Christians?”

“How! Christians!” returned the casuist; “did I not tell
.bn 133.png
.pn +1
you that these are the only writers by whom we now govern
Christendom?”

Deeply affected as I was by this announcement, I concealed
my emotion from the monk, and only asked him if all these
authors were Jesuits?

“No,” said he; “but that is of little consequence; they
have said a number of good things for all that. It is true
the greater part of these same good things are extracted or
copied from our authors, but we do not stand on ceremony
with them on that score, more especially as they are in the
constant habit of quoting our authors with applause. When
Diana, for example, who does not belong to our Society,
speaks of Vasquez, he calls him ‘that phœnix of genius;’
and he declares more than once, ‘that Vasquez alone is to
him worth all the rest of men put together’—<lang=la><i>instar omnium</i></lang>.
Accordingly, our fathers often make use of this good Diana;
and if you understand our doctrine of probability, you will
see that this is no small help in its way. In fact, we are
anxious that others besides the Jesuits would render their
opinions probable, to prevent people from ascribing them all
to us; for you will observe, that when any author, whoever
he may be, advances a probable opinion, we are entitled, by
the doctrine of probability, to adopt it if we please; and yet,
if the author do not belong to our fraternity, we are not responsible
for its soundness.”

“I understand all that,” said I. “It is easy to see that all
are welcome that come your way, except the ancient fathers;
you are masters of the field, and have only to walk the
course. But I foresee three or four serious difficulties and
powerful barriers which will oppose your career.”

“And what are these?” cried the monk, looking quite
alarmed.

“They are, the Holy Scriptures,” I replied, “the popes,
and the councils, whom you cannot gainsay, and who are all
in the way of the Gospel.”[146]

.pm fns 146
That is, they were all, in Pascal’s opinion, favorable to the Gospel
scheme of morality.
.pm fne
.bn 134.png
.pn +1

“Is that all!” he exclaimed; “I declare you put me in a
fright. Do you imagine that we would overlook such an
obvious scruple as that, or that we have not provided against
it? A good idea, forsooth, to suppose that we would contradict
Scripture, popes, and councils! I must convince you
of your mistake; for I should be sorry you should go away
with an impression that we are deficient in our respect to
these authorities. You have doubtless taken up this notion
from some of the opinions of our fathers, which are apparently
at variance with their decisions, though in reality they
are not. But to illustrate the harmony between them would
require more leisure than we have at present; and as I would
not like you to retain a bad impression of us, if you agree to
meet with me to-morrow, I shall clear it all up then.”

Thus ended our interview, and thus shall end my present
communication, which has been long enough, besides, for one
letter. I am sure you will be satisfied with it, in the prospect
of what is forthcoming.—I am, &c.

.fm lz=t

.bn 135.png
.pn +1

.sp 4
.h2
LETTER VI.

.fs 80%
.in +3
.ti -3
VARIOUS ARTIFICES OF THE JESUITS TO ELUDE THE AUTHORITY
OF THE GOSPEL, OF COUNCILS, AND OF THE POPES—SOME CONSEQUENCES
WHICH RESULT FROM THEIR DOCTRINE OF PROBABILITY—THEIR
RELAXATION IN FAVOR OF BENEFICIARIES, PRIESTS,
MONKS, AND DOMESTICS—STORY OF JOHN D’ALBA.
.in
.fs

.sp 2

.rj
<sc>Paris</sc>, <i>April 10, 1656</i>.

<sc>Sir</sc>,—I mentioned, at the close of my last letter, that my
good friend the Jesuit had promised to show me how the
casuists reconcile the contrarieties between their opinions
and the decisions of the popes, the councils, and the Scripture.
This promise he fulfilled at our last interview, of which I
shall now give you an account.

“One of the methods,” resumed the monk, “in which we
reconcile these apparent contradictions, is by the interpretation
of some phrase. Thus, Pope Gregory XIV. decided
that assassins are not worthy to enjoy the benefit of sanctuary
in churches, and ought to be dragged out of them; and
yet our four-and-twenty elders affirm that ‘the penalty of
this bull is not incurred by all those that kill in treachery.’
This may appear to you a contradiction; but we get over
this by interpreting the word <em>assassin</em> as follows: ‘Are assassins
unworthy of sanctuary in churches? Yes, by the
bull of Gregory XIV. they are. But by the word <em>assassins</em>
we understand those that have received money to murder
one; and accordingly, such as kill without taking any reward
for the deed, but merely <em>to oblige their friends</em>, do not
come under the category of assassins.’”

“Take another instance: It is said in the Gospel, ‘Give
alms of your superfluity.’[147] Several Casuists, however, have
.bn 136.png
.pn +1
contrived to discharge the wealthiest from the obligation of
alms-giving. This may appear another paradox, but the
matter is easily put to rights by giving such an interpretation
to the word <em>superfluity</em> that it will seldom or never happen
that any one is troubled with such an article. This feat has
been accomplished by the learned Vasquez, in his Treatise
on Alms, c. 4: ‘What men of the world lay up to improve
their circumstances, or those of their relatives, cannot be
termed superfluity; and accordingly, such a thing as superfluity
is seldom to be found among men of the world, not even
excepting kings.’ Diana, too, who generally founds on our
fathers, having quoted these words of Vasquez, justly concludes,
‘that as to the question whether the rich are bound
to give alms of their superfluity, even though the affirmative
were true, it will seldom or never happen to be obligatory in
practice.’”

.pm fns 147
Luke xi. 41.—<lang=la><i>Quod superest, date eleemosynam</i></lang> (Vulgate); <lang=grc>τα ἐνοντα
ότε</lang> (Gr.); <lang=la><i>Ea quæ penes vos sunt date</i></lang> (Beza); “Give alms of such
things as ye have.” (Eng. Ver.)
.pm fne

“I see very well how that follows from the doctrine of
Vasquez,” said I. “But how would you answer this objection,
that, in working out one’s salvation, it would be as safe,
according to Vasquez, to give no alms, provided one can
muster as much ambition as to have no superfluity; as it
is safe, according to the Gospel, to have no ambition at all,
in order to have some superfluity for the purpose of alms-giving?”[148]

.pm fns 148
When Pascal speaks of alms-giving “working out our salvation,”
it is evident that he regarded it only as the evidence of our being in
a state of salvation. Judging by the history of his life, and by his
“Thoughts on Religion,” no man was more free from spiritual pride, or
that poor species of it which boasts of or rests in its eleemosynary sacrifices.
His charity flowed from love and gratitude to God. Such was
his regard for the poor that he could not refuse to give alms even
though compelled to take from the supply necessary to relieve his own
infirmities; and on his death-bed he entreated that a poor person should
be brought into the house and treated with the same attention as himself,
declaring that when he thought of his own comforts and of the
multitudes who were destitute of the merest necessaries, he felt a distress
which he could not endure. “One thing I have observed,” he
says in his Thoughts—“that let a man be ever so poor, he has always
something to leave on his death-bed.”
.pm fne

“Why,” returned he, “the answer would be, that both
.bn 137.png
.pn +1
of these ways are safe according to the Gospel; the one according
to the Gospel in its more literal and obvious sense,
and the other according to the same Gospel as interpreted
by Vasquez. There you see the utility of interpretations.
When the terms are so clear, however,” he continued, “as
not to admit of an interpretation, we have recourse to the
observation of favorable circumstances. A single example
will illustrate this. The popes have denounced excommunication
on monks who lay aside their canonicals; our casuists,
notwithstanding, put it as a question, ‘On what occasions
may a monk lay aside his religious habit without incurring
excommunication?’ They mention a number of cases in
which they may, and among others the following: ‘If he
has laid it aside for an infamous purpose, such as to pick
pockets or to go <lang=la><i>incognito</i></lang> into haunts of profligacy, meaning
shortly after to resume it.’ It is evident the bulls have no
reference to cases of that description.”

I could hardly believe that, and begged the father to show
me the passage in the original. He did so, and under the
chapter headed “Practice according to the School of the
Society of Jesus”—<lang=la><i>Praxis ex Societatis Jesu Schola</i></lang>—I read
these very words: <lang=la><i>Si habitum dimittat ut furetur occulte,
vel fornicetur</i></lang>. He showed me the same thing in Diana, in
these terms: <lang=la><i>Ut eat incognitus ad lupanar</i></lang>. “And why,
father,” I asked, “are they discharged from excommunication
on such occasions?”

“Don’t you understand it?” he replied. “Only think
what a scandal it would be, were a monk surprised in such
a predicament with his canonicals on! And have you never
heard,” he continued, “how they answer the first bull <lang=la><i>contra
sollicitantes</i></lang>? and how our four-and-twenty, in another
chapter of the Practice according to the School of our Society,
explain the bull of Pius V. <lang=la><i>contra clericos</i></lang>, &c.?”[149]

.pm fns 149
These bulls were directed against gross and unnatural crimes prevailing
among the clergy. (Nicolo, ii. pp. 372–376.)
.pm fne

“I know nothing about all that,” said I.
.bn 138.png
.pn +1

“Then it is a sign you have not read much of Escobar,”
returned the monk.

“I got him only yesterday, father,” said I; “and I had
no small difficulty, too, in procuring a copy. I don’t know
how it is, but everybody of late has been in search of
him.”[150]

.pm fns 150
An allusion to the popularity of the Letters, which induced many
to inquire after the casuistical writings so often quoted in them.
.pm fne

“The passage to which I referred,” returned the monk,
“may be found in treatise 1, example 8, no. 102. Consult
it at your leisure when you go home.”

I did so that very night; but it is so shockingly bad, that
I dare not transcribe it.

The good father then went on to say: “You now understand
what use we make of favorable circumstances. Sometimes,
however, obstinate cases will occur, which will not admit of
this mode of adjustment; so much so, indeed, that you would
almost suppose they involved flat contradictions. For example,
three popes have decided that monks who are bound by
a particular vow to a Lenten life,[151] cannot be absolved from
it even though they should become bishops. And yet Diana
avers that notwithstanding this decision they <em>are</em> absolved.”

.pm fns 151
<i>Lenten life</i>—an abstemious life, or life of fasting.
.pm fne

“And how does he reconcile that?” said I.

“By the most subtle of all the modern methods, and by
the nicest possible application of probability,” replied the
monk. “You may recollect you were told the other day,
that the affirmative and negative of most opinions have each,
according to our doctors, some probability—enough, at least,
to be followed with a safe conscience. Not that the <em>pro</em> and
<em>con</em> are both true in the same sense—that is impossible—but
only they are both probable, and therefore safe, as a matter
of course. On this principle our worthy friend Diana remarks:
‘To the decision of these three popes, which is contrary
to my opinion, I answer, that they spoke in this way
by adhering to the affirmative side—which, in fact, even in
my judgment, is probable; but it does not follow from this
.bn 139.png
.pn +1
that the negative may not have its probability too.’ And in
the same treatise, speaking of another subject on which he
again differs from a pope, he says: ‘The pope, I grant, has
said it as the head of the Church; but his decision does not
extend beyond the sphere of the probability of his own
opinion.’ Now you perceive this is not doing any harm to
the opinions of the popes; such a thing would never be tolerated
at Rome, where Diana is in high repute. For he does
not say that what the popes have decided is not probable;
but leaving their opinion within the sphere of probability, he
merely says that the contrary is also probable.”

“That is very respectful,” said I.

“Yes,” added the monk, “and rather more ingenious than
the reply made by Father Bauny, when his books were censured
at Rome; for when pushed very hard on this point by
M. Hallier, he made bold to write: ‘What has the censure
of Rome to do with that of France?’ You now see how,
either by the interpretation of terms, by the observation of
favorable circumstances, or by the aid of the double probability
of <em>pro</em> and <em>con</em>, we always contrive to reconcile those
seeming contradictions which occasioned you so much surprise,
without ever touching on the decisions of Scripture,
councils, or popes.”

“Reverend father,” said I, “how happy the world is in
having such men as you for its masters! And what blessings
are these probabilities! I never knew the reason why
you took such pains to establish that a single doctor, <em>if a
grave one</em>, might render an opinion probable, and that the
contrary might be so too, and that one may choose any side
one pleases, even though he does not believe it to be the
right side, and all with such a safe conscience, that the confessor
who should refuse him absolution on the faith of the
casuists would be in a state of damnation. But I see now
that a single casuist may make new rules of morality at his
discretion, and dispose, according to his fancy, of everything
pertaining to the regulation of manners.”

“What you have now said,” rejoined the father, “would
.bn 140.png
.pn +1
require to be modified a little. Pay attention now, while I
explain our method, and you will observe the progress of a
new opinion, from its birth to its maturity. First, the grave
doctor who invented it exhibits it to the world, casting it
abroad like seed, that it may take root. In this state it is
very feeble; it requires time gradually to ripen. This accounts
for Diana, who has introduced a great many of these
opinions, saying: ‘I advance this opinion; but as it is new,
I give it time to come to maturity—<lang=la><i>relinquo tempori maturandum</i></lang>.’
Thus in a few years it becomes insensibly consolidated;
and after a considerable time it is sanctioned by the
tacit approbation of the Church, according to the grand maxim
of Father Bauny, ‘that if an opinion has been advanced
by some casuist, and has not been impugned by the Church,
it is a sign that she approves of it.’ And, in fact, on this
principle he authenticates one of his own principles in his
sixth treatise, p. 312.”

“Indeed, father!” cried I, “why, on this principle the
Church would approve of all the abuses which she tolerates,
and all the errors in all the books which she does not censure!”

“Dispute the point with Father Bauny,” he replied. “I
am merely quoting his words, and you begin to quarrel with
<em>me</em>. There is no disputing with facts, sir. Well, as I was
saying, when time has thus matured an opinion, it thenceforth
becomes completely probable and safe. Hence the
learned Caramuel, in dedicating his Fundamental Theology
to Diana, declares that this great Diana has rendered many
opinions probable which were not so before—<lang=la><i>quæ antea non
erant</i></lang>; and that, therefore, in following them, persons do not
sin now, though they would have sinned formerly—<lang=la><i>jam non
peccant, licet ante peccaverint</i></lang>.”

“Truly, father,” I observed, “it must be worth one’s
while living in the neighborhood of your doctors. Why, of
two individuals who do the same actions, he that knows nothing
about their doctrine sins, while he that knows it does no
sin. It seems, then, that their doctrine possesses at once an
.bn 141.png
.pn +1
edifying and a justifying virtue! The law of God, according
to St. Paul, made transgressors;[152] but this law of yours
makes nearly all of us innocent. I beseech you, my dear
sir, let me know all about it. I will not leave you till you
have told me all the maxims which your casuists have established.”

.pm fns 152
<lang=fr><i>Prevaricateurs.</i></lang>—Alluding probably to such texts as Rom. iv. 15:
“The law worketh wrath; for where no law is, there is no transgression.”—<lang=la><i>Ubi
enim non est lex, nec prevaricatio</i></lang> (Vulg.); or Rom. v.
13, &c.
.pm fne

“Alas!” the monk exclaimed, “our main object, no doubt,
should have been to establish no other maxims than those
of the Gospel in all their strictness: and it is easy to see,
from the Rules for the regulation of our manners,[153] that if
we tolerate some degree of relaxation in others, it is rather
out of complaisance than through design. The truth is, sir,
we are forced to it. Men have arrived at such a pitch of corruption
now-a-days, that unable to make them come to us,
we must e’en go to them, otherwise they would cast us off
altogether; and what is worse, they would become perfect
castaways. It is to retain such characters as these that our
casuists have taken under consideration the vices to which
people of various conditions are most addicted, with the view
.bn 142.png
.pn +1
of laying down maxims which, while they cannot be said to
violate the truth, are so gentle that he must be a very impracticable
subject indeed who is not pleased with them.
The grand project of our Society, for the good of religion, is
never to repulse any one, let him be what he may, and so
avoid driving people to despair.[154]

.pm fns 153
The Rules (<lang=la><i>Regulæ Communes</i></lang>) of the Society of Jesus, it must be
admitted, are rigid enough in the enforcement of moral decency and
discipline on the members; and the perfect candor of Pascal appears
in the admission. This, however, only adds weight to the real charge
which he substantiates against them, of teaching maxims which tend
to the subversion of morality. With regard to their personal conduct,
different opinions prevail. “Whatever we may think of the political
delinquencies of their leaders,” says Blanco White, “their bitterest enemies
have never ventured to charge the order of Jesuits with moral
irregularities. The internal policy of that body,” he adds, “precluded
the possibility of gross misconduct.” (Letters from Spain, p. 89.) We
are far from being sure of this. The remark seems to apply to only one
species of vice, too common in monastic life, and may be true of the
conventual establishments of the Jesuits, where outward decency forms
part of the deep policy of the order; but what dependence can be placed
on the moral purity of men whose consciences must be debauched by
such maxims? Jarrige informs us that they boasted at one time in
Spain of possessing an herb which preserved their chastity; and on being
questioned by the king to tell what it was, they replied: “It was the
fear of God.” “But,” says the author, “whatever they might be then,
it is plain that they have since lost the seed of that herb for it no longer
grows in their garden.” (Jesuites sur l’Echaufaud, ch. 6.)
.pm fne

.pm fns 154
It has been observed, with great truth, by Sir James Macintosh,
that “casuistry, the inevitable growth of the practices of confession and
absolution, has generally vibrated betwixt the extremes of impracticable
severity and contemptible indulgence.” (Hist. of England, vol. ii.
p. 359.)
.pm fne

“They have got maxims, therefore, for all sorts of persons;
for beneficiaries, for priests, for monks; for gentlemen,
for servants; for rich men, for commercial men; for people
in embarrassed or indigent circumstances; for devout women,
and women that are not devout; for married people, and
irregular people. In short, nothing has escaped their foresight.”

“In other words,” said I, “they have got maxims for the
clergy, the nobility, and the commons.[155] Well, I am quite
impatient to hear them.”

.pm fns 155
<lang=fr><i>Tiers etat.</i></lang>—These were the three orders into which the people of
France were divided; the <lang=fr><i>tiers etat</i></lang> or third estate, corresponding to our
commons.
.pm fne

“Let us commence,” resumed the father, “with the beneficiaries.
You are aware of the traffic with benefices that is
now carried on, and that were the matter referred to St.
Thomas and the ancients who have written on it, there might
chance to be some simoniacs in the Church. This rendered
it highly necessary for our fathers to exercise their prudence
in finding out a palliative. With what success they have
done so will appear from the following words of Valencia,
who is one of Escobar’s ‘four living creatures.’ At the end
of a long discourse, in which he suggests various expedients,
he propounds the following at page 2039, vol. iii., which, to
my mind, is the best: ‘If a person gives a temporal in exchange
for a spiritual good’—that is, if he gives money for a
benefice—‘and gives the money as the price of the benefice,
it is manifest simony. But if he gives it merely as the motive
.bn 143.png
.pn +1
which inclines the will of the patron to confer on him the
living, it is not simony, even though the person who confers
it considers and expects the money as the principal object.’
Tanner, who is also a member of our Society, affirms the
same thing, vol. iii., p. 1519, although he ‘grants that St.
Thomas is opposed to it; for he expressly teaches that it is
always simony to give a spiritual for a temporal good, if the
temporal is the end in view.’ By this means we prevent an
immense number of simoniacal transactions; for who would
be so desperately wicked as to refuse, when giving money
for a benefice, to take the simple precaution of so directing
his intentions as to give it as <em>a motive</em> to induce the beneficiary
to part with it, instead of giving it as <em>the price</em> of the
benefice? No man, surely, can be so far left to himself as
that would come to.”

“I agree with you there,” I replied; “all men, I should
think, have <em>sufficient grace</em> to make a bargain of that sort.”

“There can be no doubt of it,” returned the monk.
“Such, then, is the way in which we soften matters in regard
to the beneficiaries. And now for the priests—we have
maxims pretty favorable to them also. Take the following,
for example, from our four-and-twenty elders: ‘Can a priest,
who has received money to say a mass, take an additional
sum upon the same mass? Yes, says Filiutius, he may, by
applying that part of the sacrifice which belongs to himself
as a priest to the person who paid him last; provided he
does not take a sum equivalent to a whole mass, but only a
part, such as the third of a mass.’”

“Surely, father,” said I, “this must be one of those cases
in which the <em>pro</em> and the <em>con</em> have both their share of probability.
What you have now stated cannot fail, of course, to
be probable, having the authority of such men as Filiutius
and Escobar; and yet, leaving that within the sphere of
probability, it strikes me that the contrary opinion might be
made out to be probable too, and might be supported by
such reasons as the following: That, while the Church allows
priests who are in poor circumstances to take money for their
.bn 144.png
.pn +1
masses, seeing it is but right that those who serve at the
altar should live by the altar, she never intended that they
should barter the sacrifice for money,[156] and still less, that
they should deprive themselves of those benefits which they
ought themselves, in the first place, to draw from it; to which
I might add, that, according to St. Paul, the priests are to
offer sacrifice first for themselves, and then for the people;[157]
and that accordingly, while permitted to participate with
others in the benefit of the sacrifice, they are not at liberty
to forego their share, by transferring it to another for a third
.bn 145.png
.pn +1
of a mass, or, in other words, for the matter of fourpence or
fivepence. Verily, father, little as I pretend to be a <em>grave</em>
man, I might contrive to make this opinion probable.”

.pm fns 156
With all respect for Pascal and his good intention, it is plain that
there is a wide difference between the duty, illustrated by the apostle
from the ancient law, of supporting those who minister in holy things
in and for their ministrations, and the practice introduced by the Church
of Rome, of putting a price on the holy things themselves. In the one
case, it was simply a recognition of the general principle that “the laborer
is worthy of his hire.” In the other, it was converting the minister
into a shopman who was allowed to “barter” his sacred wares at
the market price, or any price he pleased. To this mercenary principle
most of the superstitions of Rome may be traced. The popish doctrine
of the mass is founded on transubstantiation, or the superstition broached
in the ninth century, that the bread and wine are converted by the
priest into the real body and blood of Christ. It was never settled in
the Romish Church to be a proper propitiatory sacrifice for the living
and the dead till the Council of Trent, in the sixteenth century; so that
it is comparatively a modern invention. The mass proceeds on the absurd
assumption that our blessed Lord offered up his body and blood in
the institution of the supper, before offering them on the cross, and partook
of them himself; and it involves the blasphemy of supposing that
a sinful mortal may, whenever he pleases, offer up the great sacrifice
of that body and blood, which could only be offered by the Son of God
and offered by him only once. This, however, is the great Diana of
the popish priests—by this craft they have their wealth—and the whole
of its history proves that it was invented for no other purposes than imposture
and extortion.
.pm fne

.pm fns 157
Heb. vii. 27.—It is astonishing to see an acute mind like that of
Pascal so warped by superstition as not to perceive that in this, and
other allusions to the Levitical priesthood, the object of the apostle was
avowedly to prove that the great sacrifice for sin, of which the ancient
sacrifices were the types, had been “once offered in the end of the
world,” and that “there remaineth no more sacrifice for sins;” and
that the very text to which he refers, teaches that, in the person of
Jesus Christ, our high priest, all the functions of the sacrificing priesthood
were fulfilled and terminated: “Who needeth <em>not</em> daily <em>as those
high priests</em>, to offer up sacrifice, first for his own sins, and then for
the people’s: for this he did <em>once</em>, when he offered up himself.” The
ministers of the New Testament are never in Scripture called priests,
though this name has been applied to the Christian people who offer up
the “spiritual sacrifices” of praise and good works. (Heb. xiii. 15, 16;
1 Pet. ii. 5.)
.pm fne

“It would cost you no great pains to do that,” replied the
monk; “it is visibly probable already. The difficulty lies in
discovering probability in the converse of opinions manifestly
good; and this is a feat which none but great men can
achieve. Father Bauny shines in this department. It is
really delightful to see that learned casuist examining with
characteristic ingenuity and subtlety, the negative and affirmative
of the same question, and proving both of them to be
right! Thus in the matter of priests, he says in one place:
‘No law can be made to oblige the curates to say mass every
day; for such a law would unquestionably (<lang=la><i>haud dubiè</i></lang>) expose
them to the danger of saying it sometimes in mortal
sin.’ And yet in another part of the same treatise, he says,
‘that priests who have received money for saying mass every
day ought to say it every day, and that they cannot excuse
themselves on the ground that they are not always in a fit
state for the service; because it is in their power at all times
to do penance, and if they neglect this they have themselves
to blame for it, and not the person who made them say
mass.’ And to relieve their minds from all scruples on the
subject, he thus resolves the question: ‘May a priest say
mass on the same day in which he has committed a mortal
sin of the worst kind, in the way of confessing himself beforehand?’
Villabolos says No, because of his impurity; but
Sancius says, He may without any sin; and I hold his opinion
to be safe, and one which may be followed in practice—<lang=la><i>et
tuta et sequenda in praxi</i></lang>.”[158]

.pm fns 158
Treatise 10, p. 474; ib., p. 441; Quest. 32, p. 457.
.pm fne

“Follow this opinion in practice!” cried I. “Will any
priest who has fallen into such irregularities, have the assurance
on the same day to approach the altar, on the mere
word of Father Bauny? Is he not bound to submit to the
ancient laws of the Church, which debarred from the sacrifice
.bn 146.png
.pn +1
forever, or at least for a long time, priests who had committed
sins of that description—instead of following the modern
opinions of casuists, who would admit him to it on the very
day that witnessed his fall?”

“You have a very short memory,” returned the monk.
“Did I not inform you a little ago that, according to our fathers
Cellot and Reginald, ‘in matters of morality we are to
follow, not the ancient fathers, but the modern casuists?’”

“I remember it perfectly,” said I; “but we have something
more here: we have the laws of the Church.”

“True,” he replied; “but this shows you do not know another
capital maxim of our fathers, ‘that the laws of the
Church lose their authority when they have gone into desuetude’—<lang=la><i>cum
jam desuetudine abierunt</i></lang>—as Filiutius says.[159] We
know the present exigencies of the Church much better than
the ancients could do. Were we to be so strict in excluding
priests from the altar, you can understand there would not be
such a great number of masses. Now a multitude of masses
brings such a revenue of glory to God and of good to souls,
that I may venture to say, with Father Cellot, that there
would not be too many priests, ‘though not only all men
and women, were that possible, but even inanimate bodies,
and even brute beasts—<lang=la><i>bruta animalia</i></lang>—were transformed
into priests to celebrate mass.’”[160]

.pm fns 159
Tom. ii. tr. 25. n. 33. And yet they will pretend to hold that their
Church is infallible!
.pm fne

.pm fns 160
Book of the Hierarchy, p. 611, Rouen edition.
.pm fne

I was so astounded at the extravagance of this imagination,
that I could not utter a word, and allowed him to go on
with his discourse. “Enough, however, about priests; I am
afraid of getting tedious: let us come to the <em>monks</em>. The
grand difficulty with them is the obedience they owe to their
superiors; now observe the palliative which our fathers apply
in this case. Castro Palao[161] of our Society has said: ‘Beyond
all dispute, a monk who has a probable opinion of his own, is
.bn 147.png
.pn +1
not bound to obey his superior, though the opinion of the
latter is the more probable. For the monk is at liberty to
adopt the opinion which is more agreeable to himself—<lang=la><i>quæ
sibi gratior fuerit</i></lang>—as Sanchez says. And though the order
of his superior be just, that does not oblige you to obey him,
for it is not just at all points or in every respect—<lang=la><i>non undequaquè
justè præcepit</i></lang>—but only probably so; and consequently,
you are only probably bound to obey him, and probably
not bound—<lang=la><i>probabiliter obligatus, et probabiliter deobligatus</i></lang>.’”

.pm fns 161
Op. Mor. p. 1, disp. 2, p. 6. <i>Ferdinand de Castro Palao</i> was a
Jesuit of Spain, and author of a work on Virtues and Vices, published
in 1631.
.pm fne

“Certainly, father,” said I, “it is impossible too highly to
estimate this precious fruit of the double probability.”

“It is of great use indeed,” he replied; “but we must be
brief. Let me only give you the following specimen of our
famous Molina in favor of monks who are expelled from their
convents for irregularities. Escobar quotes him thus: ‘Molina
asserts that a monk expelled from his monastery is not
obliged to reform in order to get back again, and that he is
no longer bound by his vow of obedience.’”

“Well, father,” cried I, “this is all very comfortable for
the clergy. Your casuists, I perceive, have been very indulgent
to them, and no wonder—they were legislating, so to
speak, for themselves. I am afraid people of other conditions
are not so liberally treated. Every one for himself in
this world.”

“There you do us wrong,” returned the monk; “they
could not have been kinder to themselves than we have been
to them. We treat all, from the highest to the lowest, with
an even-handed charity, sir. And to prove this, you tempt
me to tell you our maxims for servants. In reference to this
class, we have taken into consideration the difficulty they
must experience, when they are men of conscience, in serving
profligate masters. For if they refuse to perform all the errands
in which they are employed, they lose their places; and
if they yield obedience, they have their scruples. To relieve
them from these, our four-and-twenty fathers have specified
the services which they may render with a safe conscience;
.bn 148.png
.pn +1
such as, ‘carrying letters and presents, opening doors and
windows, helping their master to reach the window, holding
the ladder which he is mounting. All this,’ say they, ‘is allowable
and indifferent; it is true that, as to holding the ladder,
they must be threatened, more than usually, with being
punished for refusing; for it is doing an injury to the master
of a house to enter it by the window.’ You perceive the
judiciousness of that observation, of course?”

“I expected nothing less,” said I, “from a book edited by
four-and-twenty Jesuits.”

“But,” added the monk, “Father Bauny has gone beyond
this; he has taught valets how to perform these sorts of
offices for their masters quite innocently, by making them
direct their intention, not to the sins to which they are accessary,
but to the gain which is to accrue from them. In his
Summary of Sins, p. 710, first edition, he thus states the
matter: ‘Let confessors observe,’ says he, ‘that they cannot
absolve valets who perform base errands, if they consent to
the sins of their masters; but the reverse holds true, if they
have done the thing merely from a regard to their temporal
emolument.’ And that, I should conceive, is no difficult matter
to do; for why should they insist on consenting to sins of
which they taste nothing but the trouble? The same Father
Bauny has established a prime maxim in favor of those who
are not content with their wages: ‘May servants who are dissatisfied
with their wages, use means to raise them by laying
their hands on as much of the property of their masters as
they may consider necessary to make the said wages equivalent
to their trouble? They may, in certain circumstances;
as when they are so poor that, in looking for a situation, they
have been obliged to accept the offer made to them, and when
other servants of the same class are gaining more than they,
elsewhere.’”

“Ha, father!” cried I, “that is John d’Alba’s passage, I
declare.”

“What John d’Alba?” inquired the father: “what do you
mean?”
.bn 149.png
.pn +1

“Strange, father!” returned I: “do you not remember
what happened in this city in the year 1647? Where in the
world were you living at that time?”

“I was teaching cases of conscience in one of our colleges
far from Paris,” he replied.

“I see you don’t know the story, father: I must tell it
you. I heard it related the other day by a man of honor,
whom I met in company. He told us that this John d’Alba,
who was in the service of your fathers in the College of Clermont,
in the Rue St. Jacques, being dissatisfied with his wages,
had purloined something to make himself amends; and
that your fathers, on discovering the theft, had thrown him
into prison on the charge of larceny. The case was reported
to the court, if I recollect right, on the 16th of April, 1647;
for he was very minute in his statements, and indeed they
would hardly have been credible otherwise. The poor fellow,
on being questioned, confessed to having taken some
pewter plates, but maintained that for all that he had not
<em>stolen</em> them; pleading in his defence this very doctrine of Father
Bauny, which he produced before the judges, along with
a pamphlet by one of your fathers, under whom he had studied
cases of conscience, and who had taught him the same
thing. Whereupon M. De Montrouge, one of the most respected
members of the court, said, in giving his opinion,
‘that he did not see how, on the ground of the writings of
these fathers—writings containing a doctrine so illegal, pernicious,
and contrary to all laws, natural, divine, and human,
and calculated to ruin all families, and sanction all sorts of
household robbery—they could discharge the accused. But
his opinion was, that this too faithful disciple should be
whipped before the college gate, by the hand of the common
hangman; and that, at the same time, this functionary should
burn the writings of these fathers which treated of larceny,
with certification that they were prohibited from teaching
such doctrine in future, upon pain of death.’

“The result of this judgment, which was heartily approved
of, was waited for with much curiosity when some incident
.bn 150.png
.pn +1
occurred which made them delay procedure. But in the
mean time the prisoner disappeared, nobody knew how, and
nothing more was heard about the affair; so that John d’Alba
got off, pewter plates and all. Such was the account he
gave us, to which he added, that the judgment of M. De
Montrouge was entered on the records of the court, where
any one may consult it. We were highly amused at the
story.”

“What are you trifling about now?” cried the monk.
“What does all that signify? I was explaining the maxims
of our casuists, and was just going to speak of those relating
to gentlemen, when you interrupt me with impertinent
stories.”

“It was only something put in by the way, father,” I observed;
“and besides, I was anxious to apprize you of an important
circumstance, which I find you have overlooked in
establishing your doctrine of probability.”

“Ay, indeed!” exclaimed the monk, “what defect can
this be, that has escaped the notice of so many ingenious
men?”

“You have certainly,” continued I, “contrived to place your
disciples in perfect safety so far as God and the conscience are
concerned; for they are quite safe in that quarter, according
to you, by following in the wake of a grave doctor. You have
also secured them on the part of the confessors, by obliging
priests, on the pain of mortal sin, to absolve all who follow a
probable opinion. But you have neglected to secure them
on the part of the judges; so that, in following your probabilities,
they are in danger of coming into contact with the
whip and the gallows. This is a sad oversight.”

“You are right,” said the monk; “I am glad you mentioned
it. But the reason is, we have no such power over
magistrates as over the confessors, who are obliged to refer
to us in cases of conscience, in which we are the sovereign
judges.”

“So I understand,” returned I; “but if, on the one hand,
you are the judges of the confessors, are you not, on the
.bn 151.png
.pn +1
other hand, the confessors of the judges? Your power is
very extensive. Oblige them, on pain of being debarred
from the sacraments, to acquit all criminals who act on a
probable opinion; otherwise it may happen, to the great
contempt and scandal of probability, that those whom you
render innocent in theory may be whipped or hanged in
practice. Without something of this kind, how can you
expect to get disciples?”

“The matter deserves consideration,” said he; “it will
never do to neglect it. I shall suggest it to our father Provincial.
You might, however, have reserved this advice to
some other time, without interrupting the account I was
about to give you of the maxims which we have established
in favor of gentlemen; and I shall not give you any more information,
except on condition that you do not tell me any
more stories.”

This is all you shall have from me at present; for it would
require more than the limits of one letter to acquaint you
with all that I learned in a single conversation.—Meanwhile
I am, &c.

.fm lz=t

.bn 152.png
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.sp 4
.h2 title="LETTER VII."
LETTER VII.[162]

.fs 80%
.in +3
.ti -3
METHOD OF DIRECTING THE INTENTION ADOPTED BY THE CASUISTS—PERMISSION
TO KILL IN DEFENCE OF HONOR AND PROPERTY,
EXTENDED EVEN TO PRIESTS AND MONKS—CURIOUS QUESTION
RAISED BY CARAMUEL, AS TO WHETHER JESUITS MAY BE ALLOWED
TO KILL JANSENISTS.
.in
.fs

.pm fns 162
This Letter was revised by M. Nicole.
.pm fne

.sp 2

.rj
<sc>Paris</sc>, <i>April 25, 1656</i>.

<sc>Sir</sc>,—Having succeeded in pacifying the good father, who
had been rather disconcerted by the story of John d’Alba,
he resumed the conversation, on my assuring him that I
would avoid all such interruptions in future, and spoke of
the maxims of his casuists with regard to gentlemen, nearly
in the following terms:—

“You know,” he said, “that the ruling passion of persons
in that rank of life is ‘the point of honor,’ which is perpetually
driving them into acts of violence apparently quite at
variance with Christian piety; so that, in fact, they would be
almost all of them excluded from our confessionals, had not
our fathers relaxed a little from the strictness of religion, to
accommodate themselves to the weakness of humanity.
Anxious to keep on good terms both with the Gospel, by doing
their duty to God, and with the men of the world, by showing
charity to their neighbor, they needed all the wisdom
they possessed to devise expedients for so nicely adjusting
matters as to permit these gentlemen to adopt the methods
usually resorted to for vindicating their honor, without
wounding their consciences, and thus reconcile two things
apparently so opposite to each other as piety and the point
of honor. But, sir, in proportion to the utility of the design
was the difficulty of the execution. You cannot fail, I should
.bn 153.png
.pn +1
think, to realize the magnitude and arduousness of such an
enterprize?”

“It astonishes me, certainly,” said I, rather coldly.

“It astonishes you, forsooth!” cried the monk. “I can
well believe that; many besides you might be astonished at
it. Why, don’t you know that, on the one hand, the Gospel
commands us ‘not to render evil for evil, but to leave
vengeance to God;’ and that, on the other hand, the laws of
the world forbid our enduring an affront without demanding
satisfaction from the offender, and that often at the expense
of his life? You have never, I am sure, met with anything,
to all appearance, more diametrically opposed than these two
codes of morals; and yet, when told that our fathers have
reconciled them, you have nothing more to say than simply
that this astonishes you!”

“I did not sufficiently explain myself, father. I should
certainly have considered the thing perfectly impracticable,
if I had not known, from what I have seen of your fathers,
that they are capable of doing with ease what is impossible
to other men. This led me to anticipate that they must have
discovered some method for meeting the difficulty—a method
which I admire even before knowing it, and which I pray
you to explain to me.”

“Since that is your view of the matter,” replied the monk,
“I cannot refuse you. Know, then, that this marvellous
principle is our grand method of <em>directing the intention</em>—the
importance of which, in our moral system, is such, that I
might almost venture to compare it with the doctrine of
probability. You have had some glimpses of it in passing,
from certain maxims which I mentioned to you. For example,
when I was showing you how servants might execute
certain troublesome jobs with a safe conscience, did you not
remark that it was simply by diverting their intention from
the evil to which they were accessary, to the profit which
they might reap from the transaction? Now that is what
we call <em>directing the intention</em>. You saw, too, that were it
not for a similar divergence of the mind, those who give
.bn 154.png
.pn +1
money for benefices might be downright simoniacs. But I
will now show you this grand method in all its glory, as it
applies to the subject of homicide—a crime which it justifies in
a thousand instances; in order that, from this startling result,
you may form an idea of all that it is calculated to
effect.”

“I foresee already,” said I, “that, according to this mode,
everything will be permitted; it will stick at nothing.”

“You always fly from the one extreme to the other,” replied
the monk: “prithee avoid that habit. For just to show
you that we are far from permitting everything, let me tell
you that we never suffer such a thing as a formal intention
to sin, with the sole design of sinning; and if any person
whatever should persist in having no other end but evil in
the evil that he does, we break with him at once: such conduct
is diabolical. This holds true, without exception of age,
sex, or rank. But when the person is not of such a wretched
disposition as this, we try to put in practice our method of
<em>directing the intention</em>, which simply consists in his proposing
to himself, as the end of his actions, some allowable object.
Not that we do not endeavor, as far as we can, to dissuade
men from doing things forbidden; but when we cannot prevent
the action, we at least purify the motive, and thus correct
the viciousness of the mean by the goodness of the end.
Such is the way in which our fathers have contrived to permit
those acts of violence to which men usually resort in
vindication of their honor. They have no more to do than
to turn off their intention from the desire of vengeance,
which is criminal, and direct it to a desire to defend their
honor, which, according to us, is quite warrantable. And in
this way our doctors discharge all their duty towards God
and towards man. By permitting the action, they gratify
the world; and by purifying the intention, they give satisfaction
to the Gospel. This is a secret, sir, which was entirely
unknown to the ancients; the world is indebted for the discovery
entirely to our doctors. You understand it now, I
hope?”
.bn 155.png
.pn +1

“Perfectly well,” was my reply. “To men you grant
the outward material effect of the action; and to God you
give the inward and spiritual movement of the intention;
and by this equitable partition, you form an alliance between
the laws of God and the laws of men. But, my dear sir, to
be frank with you, I can hardly trust your premises, and I
suspect that your authors will tell another tale.”

“You do me injustice,” rejoined the monk; “I advance
nothing but what I am ready to prove, and that by such a
rich array of passages, that altogether their number, their
authority, and their reasonings, will fill you with admiration.
To show you, for example, the alliance which our fathers
have formed between the maxims of the Gospel and those of
the world, by thus regulating the intention, let me refer you
to Reginald:[163] ‘Private persons are forbidden to avenge
themselves; for St. Paul says to the Romans (ch. 12th),
‘Recompense to no man evil for evil;’ and Ecclesiasticus says
(ch. 28th), ‘He that taketh vengeance shall draw on himself
the vengeance of God, and his sins will not be forgotten.’
Besides all that is said in the Gospel about forgiving offences,
as in the 6th and 18th chapters of St. Matthew.’”

.pm fns 163
<cite>In praxi</cite>: liv. xxi., num. 62, p. 260.
.pm fne

“Well, father, if after that he says anything contrary to
the Scripture, it will not be from lack of scriptural knowledge,
at any rate. Pray, how does he conclude?”

“You shall hear,” he said. “From all this it appears that
a military man may demand satisfaction on the spot from the
person who has injured him—not, indeed, with the intention
of rendering evil for evil, but with that of preserving his
honor—‘<lang=la><i>non ut malum pro malo reddat, sed ut conservet honorem</i></lang>.’
See you how carefully they guard against the intention
of rendering evil for evil, because the Scripture condemns
it? This is what they will tolerate on no account.
Thus Lessius[164] observes, that ‘if a man has received a blow
on the face, he must on no account have an intention to
avenge himself; but he may lawfully have an intention to
.bn 156.png
.pn +1
avert infamy, and may, with that view, repel the insult immediately,
even at the point of the sword—<lang=la><i>etiam cum gladio</i></lang>!’
So far are we from permitting any one to cherish the design
of taking vengeance on his enemies, that our fathers will not
allow any even to <em>wish their death</em>—by a movement of hatred.
‘If your enemy is disposed to injure you,’ says Escobar, ‘you
have no right to wish his death, by a movement of hatred;
though you may, with a view to save yourself from harm.’
So legitimate, indeed, is this wish, with such an intention,
that our great Hurtado de Mendoza says, that ‘we may <em>pray
God</em> to visit with speedy death those who are bent on persecuting
us, if there is no other way of escaping from it.’”[165]

.pm fns 164
De Just., liv. ii., c. 9, d. 12, n. 79.
.pm fne

.pm fns 165
In his book, De Spe, vol. ii., d. 15, sec. 4, 848.
.pm fne

“May it please your reverence,” said I, “the Church
has forgotten to insert a petition to that effect among her
prayers.”

“They have not put in everything into the prayers that
one may lawfully ask of God,” answered the monk. “Besides,
in the present case the thing was impossible, for this
same opinion is of more recent standing than the Breviary.
You are not a good chronologist, friend. But, not to wander
from the point, let me request your attention to the following
passage, cited by Diana from Gaspar Hurtado,[166] one of
Escobar’s four-and-twenty fathers: ‘An incumbent may,
without any mortal sin, desire the decease of a life-renter
on his benefice, and a son that of his father, and rejoice
when it happens; provided always it is for the sake of the
profit that is to accrue from the event, and not from personal
aversion.’”

.pm fns 166
De Sub. Pecc., diff. 9; Diana, p. 5; tr. 14, r. 99.
.pm fne

“Good!” cried I. “That is certainly a very happy hit;
and I can easily see that the doctrine admits of a wide application.
But yet there are certain cases, the solution of which,
though of great importance for gentlemen, might present
still greater difficulties.”

“Propose them, if you please, that we may see,” said the
monk.
.bn 157.png
.pn +1

“Show me, with all your directing of the intention,” returned
I, “that it is allowable to fight a duel.”

“Our great Hurtado de Mendoza,” said the father, “will
satisfy you on that point in a twinkling. ‘If a gentleman,’
says he, in a passage cited by Diana, ‘who is challenged to
fight a duel, is well known to have no religion, and if the
vices to which he is openly and unscrupulously addicted are
such as would lead people to conclude, in the event of his
refusing to fight, that he is actuated, not by the fear of God,
but by cowardice, and induce them to say of him that he
was a <em>hen</em>, and not a man—<lang=la><i>gallina, et non vir</i></lang>; in that case
he may, to save his honor, appear at the appointed spot—not,
indeed, with the express intention of fighting a duel,
but merely with that of defending himself, should the person
who challenged him come there unjustly to attack him.
His action in this case, viewed by itself, will be perfectly
indifferent; for what moral evil is there in one stepping
into a field, taking a stroll in expectation of meeting a person,
and defending one’s self in the event of being attacked?
And thus the gentleman is guilty of no sin whatever; for
in fact it cannot be called accepting a challenge at all, his
intention being directed to other circumstances, and the
acceptance of a challenge consisting in an express intention
to fight, which we are supposing the gentleman never had.’”

“You have not kept your word with me, sir,” said I.
“This is not, properly speaking, to permit duelling; on the
contrary, the casuist is so persuaded that this practice is forbidden,
that, in licensing the action in question, he carefully
avoids calling it a duel.”

“Ah!” cried the monk, “you begin to get knowing on
my hand, I am glad to see. I might reply, that the author
I have quoted grants all that duellists are disposed to ask.
But since you must have a categorical answer, I shall allow
our Father Layman to give it for me. He permits duelling
in so many words, provided that, in accepting the challenge,
the person directs his intention solely to the preservation
of his honor or his property: ‘If a soldier or a courtier is
.bn 158.png
.pn +1
in such a predicament that he must lose either his honor or
his fortune unless he accepts a challenge, I see nothing to
hinder him from doing so in self-defence.’ The same thing
is said by Peter Hurtado, as quoted by our famous Escobar;
his words are: ‘One may fight a duel even to defend one’s
property, should that be necessary; because every man has
a right to defend his property, though at the expense of his
enemy’s life!’”

I was struck, on hearing these passages, with the reflection
that while the piety of the king appears in his exerting
all his power to prohibit and abolish the practice of duelling
in the State,[167] the piety of the Jesuits is shown in their employing
all their ingenuity to tolerate and sanction it in the
Church. But the good father was in such an excellent key
for talking, that it would have been cruel to have interrupted
him; so he went on with his discourse.

.pm fns 167
Before the age of Louis XIV. the practice of duelling prevailed in
France to such a frightful extent that a writer, who is not given to exaggerate
in such matters, says, that “It had done as much to depopulate
the country as the civil and foreign wars, and that in the course of
twenty years, ten of which had been disturbed by war, more Frenchmen
perished by the hands of Frenchmen than by those of their enemies.”
(Voltaire, Siècle de Louis XIV., p. 42.) The abolition of this barbarous
custom was one of the greatest services which Louis XIV. rendered
to his country. This was not fully accomplished till 1663, when a
bloody combat of four against four determined him to put an end to the
practice, by making it death, without benefit of clergy, to send or accept
a challenge.
.pm fne

“In short,” said he, “Sanchez (mark, now, what great
names I am quoting to you!) Sanchez, sir, goes a step further;
for he shows how, simply by managing the intention rightly,
a person may not only receive a challenge, but give one.
And our Escobar follows him.”

“Prove that, father,” said I, “and I shall give up the
point: but I will not believe that he has written it, unless I
see it in print.”

“Read it yourself, then,” he replied: and, to be sure, I
read the following extract from the Moral Theology of
Sanchez: “It is perfectly reasonable to hold that a man may
fight a duel to save his life, his honor, or any considerable
.bn 159.png
.pn +1
portion of his property, when it is apparent that there is a
design to deprive him of these unjustly, by law-suits and
chicanery, and when there is no other way of preserving them.
Navarre justly observes, that in such cases, it is lawful
either to accept or to send a challenge—<lang=la><i>licet acceptare et
offerre duellum</i></lang>. The same author adds, that there is nothing
to prevent one from despatching one’s adversary in a private
way. Indeed, in the circumstances referred to, it is advisable
to avoid employing the method of the duel, if it is possible
to settle the affair by privately killing our enemy; for,
by this means, we escape at once from exposing our life in
the combat, and from participating in the sin which our opponent
would have committed by fighting the duel!”[168]

.pm fns 168
Sanchez, Theol. Mor., liv. ii. c. 39, n. 7.
.pm fne

“A most pious assassination!” said I. “Still, however,
pious though it be, it is assassination, if a man is permitted to
kill his enemy in a treacherous manner.”

“Did I say that he might kill him treacherously?” cried
the monk. “God forbid! I said he might kill him <em>privately</em>,
and you conclude that he may kill him <em>treacherously</em>, as if
that were the same thing! Attend, sir, to Escobar’s definition
before allowing yourself to speak again on this subject:
‘We call it killing in treachery, when the person who is slain
had no reason to suspect such a fate. He, therefore, that
slays his <em>enemy</em> cannot be said to kill him in treachery, even
although the blow should be given insidiously and behind his
back—<lang=la><i>licet per insidias aut a tergo percutiat</i></lang>.’ And again:
‘He that kills his enemy, with whom he was reconciled under
a promise of never again attempting his life, cannot be <em>absolutely</em>
said to kill in treachery, unless there was between them
all the stricter friendship—<lang=la><i>arctior amicitia</i></lang>.’[169] You see now,
you do not even understand what the terms signify, and yet
you pretend to talk like a doctor.”

.pm fns 169
Escobar, tr. 6, ex. 4, n. 26, 56.
.pm fne

“I grant you this is something quite new to me,” I replied;
“and I should gather from that definition that few, if
any, were ever killed in treachery; for people seldom take
.bn 160.png
.pn +1
it into their heads to assassinate any but their enemies. Be
this as it may, however, it seems that, according to Sanchez,
a man may freely slay (I do not say <em>treacherously</em>, but only
insidiously, and behind his back) a calumniator, for example,
who prosecutes us at law?”

“Certainly he may,” returned the monk, “always, however,
in the way of giving a right direction to the intention:
you constantly forget the main point. Molina supports the
same doctrine; and what is more, our learned brother Reginald
maintains that we may despatch the false witnesses
whom he summons against us. And, to crown the whole,
according to our great and famous fathers Tanner and Emanuel
Sa, it is lawful to kill both the false witnesses and <em>the
judge himself</em>, if he has had any collusion with them. Here
are Tanner’s very words: ‘Sotus and Lessius think that it is
not lawful to kill the false witnesses and the magistrate who
conspire together to put an innocent person to death; but
Emanuel Sa and other authors with good reason impugn
that sentiment, at least so far as the conscience is concerned.’
And he goes on to show that it is quite lawful to kill both
the witnesses and the judge.”

“Well, father,” said I, “I think I now understand pretty
well your principle regarding the direction of the intention;
but I should like to know something of its consequences, and
all the cases in which this method of yours arms a man with
the power of life and death. Let us go over them again, for
fear of mistake, for equivocation here might be attended with
dangerous results. Killing is a matter which requires to be
well-timed, and to be backed with a good probable opinion.
You have assured me, then, that by giving a proper turn to
the intention, it is lawful, according to your fathers, for the
preservation of one’s honor, or even property, to accept a
challenge to a duel, to give one sometimes, to kill in a private
way a false accuser, and his witnesses along with him, and
even the judge who has been bribed to favor them; and you
have also told me that he who has got a blow, may, without
.bn 161.png
.pn +1
avenging himself, retaliate with the sword. But you have
not told me, father, to what length he may go.”

“He can hardly mistake there,” replied the father, “for
he may go all the length of killing his man. This is satisfactorily
proved by the learned Henriquez, and others of our
fathers quoted by Escobar, as follows: ‘It is perfectly right
to kill a person who has given us a box on the ear, although
he should run away, provided it is not done through hatred
or revenge, and there is no danger of giving occasion thereby
to murders of a gross kind and hurtful to society. And the
reason is, that it is as lawful to pursue the thief that has
stolen our honor, as him that has run away with our property.
For, although your honor cannot be said to be in the
hands of your enemy in the same sense as your goods and
chattels are in the hands of the thief, still it may be recovered
in the same way—by showing proofs of greatness and
authority, and thus acquiring the esteem of men. And, in
point of fact, is it not certain that the man who has received
a buffet on the ear is held to be under disgrace, until he has
wiped off the insult with the blood of his enemy?’”

I was so shocked on hearing this, that it was with great
difficulty I could contain myself; but, in my anxiety to hear
the rest, I allowed him to proceed.

“Nay,” he continued, “it is allowable to prevent a buffet,
by killing him that meant to give it, if there be no other way
to escape the insult. This opinion is quite common with our
fathers. For example, Azor, one of the four-and-twenty elders,
proposing the question, ‘Is it lawful for a man of honor
to kill another who threatens to give him a slap on the face,
or strike him with a stick?’ replies, ‘Some say he may not;
alleging that the life of our neighbor is more precious than
our honor, and that it would be an act of cruelty to kill a
man merely to avoid a blow. Others, however, think that
it is allowable; and I certainly consider it probable, when
there is no other way of warding off the insult; for, otherwise,
the honor of the innocent would be constantly exposed
to the malice of the insolent.’ The same opinion is given by
.bn 162.png
.pn +1
our great Filiutius; by Father Hereau, in his Treatise on
Homicide; by Hurtado de Mendoza, in his Disputations; by
Becan, in his Summary; by our Fathers Flahaut and Lecourt,
in those writings which the university, in their third
petition, quoted at length, in order to bring them into disgrace
(though in this they failed); and by Escobar. In
short, this opinion is so general, that Lessius lays it down as
a point which no casuist has contested; he quotes a great
many that uphold, and none that deny it; and particularly
Peter Navarre, who, speaking of affronts in general (and
there is none more provoking than a box on the ear), declares
that ‘by the universal consent of the casuists, it is lawful to
kill the calumniator, if there be no other way of averting the
affront—<lang=la><i>ex sententia omnium, licet contumeliosum occidere, si
aliter ea injuria arceri nequit</i></lang>.’ Do you wish any more
authorities?” asked the monk.

I declared I was much obliged to him; I had heard rather
more than enough of them already. But just to see how far
this damnable doctrine would go, I said, “But, father, may
not one be allowed to kill for something still less? Might
not a person so direct his intention as lawfully to kill another
for telling a lie, for example?”

“He may,” returned the monk; “and according to Father
Baldelle, quoted by Escobar, ‘you may lawfully take the life
of another for saying, You have told a lie; if there is no
other way of shutting his mouth.’ The same thing may be
done in the case of slanders. Our Fathers Lessius and Hereau
agree in the following sentiments: ‘If you attempt to ruin
my character by telling stories against me in the presence of
men of honor, and I have no other way of preventing this
than by putting you to death, may I be permitted to do so?
According to the modern authors, I may, and that even
though I have been really guilty of the crime which you
divulge, provided it is a secret one, which you could not
establish by legal evidence. And I prove it thus: If you
mean to rob me of my honor by giving me a box on the ear,
I may prevent it by force of arms; and the same mode of
.bn 163.png
.pn +1
defence is lawful when you would do me the same injury
with the tongue. Besides, we may lawfully obviate affronts,
and therefore slanders. In fine, honor is dearer than life;
and as it is lawful to kill in defence of life, it must be so to
kill in defence of honor.’ There, you see, are arguments in
due form; this is demonstration, sir—not mere discussion.
And, to conclude, this great man Lessius shows, in the same
place, that it is lawful to kill even for a simple gesture, or a
sign of contempt. ‘A man’s honor,’ he remarks, ‘may be
attacked or filched away in various ways—in all which vindication
appears very reasonable; as, for instance, when one
offers to strike us with a stick, or give us a slap on the face,
or affront us either by words or signs—<lang=la><i>sive per signa</i></lang>.’”

“Well, father,” said I, “it must be owned that you have
made every possible provision to secure the safety of reputation;
but it strikes me that human life is greatly in danger,
if any one may be conscientiously put to death simply for a
defamatory speech or a saucy gesture.”

“That is true,” he replied; “but as our fathers are very
circumspect, they have thought it proper to forbid putting
this doctrine into practice on such trifling occasions. They
say, at least, ‘that it ought <em>hardly</em> to be reduced to practice—<lang=la><i>practicè
vix probari potest</i></lang>.’ And they have a good reason
for that, as you shall see.”

“Oh! I know what it will be,” interrupted I; “because
the law of God forbids us to kill, of course.”

“They do not exactly take that ground,” said the father;
“as a matter of conscience, and viewing the thing abstractly,
they hold it allowable.”

“And why, then, do they forbid it?”

“I shall tell you that, sir. It is because, were we to kill
all the defamers among us, we should very shortly depopulate
the country. ‘Although,’ says Reginald, ‘the opinion
that we may kill a man for calumny is not without its probability
in theory, the contrary one ought to be followed in
practice; for, in our mode of defending ourselves, we should
always avoid doing injury to the commonwealth; and it is
.bn 164.png
.pn +1
evident that by killing people in this way there would be too
many murders.’ ‘We should be on our guard,’ says Lessius,
‘lest the practice of this maxim prove hurtful to the State;
for in this case it ought not to be permitted—<lang=la><i>tunc enim non
est permittendus</i></lang>.’”

“What, father! is it forbidden only as a point of policy,
and not of religion? Few people, I am afraid, will pay any
regard to such a prohibition, particularly when in a passion.
Very probably they might think they were doing no harm to
the State, by ridding it of an unworthy member.”

“And accordingly,” replied the monk, “our Filiutius has
fortified that argument with another, which is of no slender
importance, namely, ‘that for killing people after this manner,
one might be punished in a court of justice.’”

“There now, father; I told you before, that you will never
be able to do anything worth the while, unless you get the
magistrates to go along with you.”

“The magistrates,” said the father, “as they do not penetrate
into the conscience, judge merely of the outside of the
action, while we look principally to the intention; and hence
it occasionally happens that our maxims are a little different
from theirs.”

“Be that as it may, father; from yours, at least, one thing
may be fairly inferred—that, by taking care not to injure the
commonwealth, we may kill defamers with a safe conscience,
provided we can do it with a sound skin. But, sir, after
having seen so well to the protection of honor, have you
done nothing for property? I am aware it is of inferior importance,
but that does not signify; I should think one
might direct one’s intention to kill for its preservation also.”

“Yes,” replied the monk; “and I gave you a hint to that
effect already, which may have suggested the idea to you.
All our casuists agree in that opinion; and they even extend
the permission to those cases ‘where no further violence is
apprehended from those that steal our property; as, for example,
where the thief runs away.’ Azor, one of our Society,
proves that point.”
.bn 165.png
.pn +1

“But, sir, how much must the article be worth, to justify
our proceeding to that extremity?”

“According to Reginald and Tanner, ‘the article must be
of great value in the estimation of a judicious man.’ And so
think Layman and Filiutius.”

“But, father, that is saying nothing to the purpose; where
am I to find ‘a judicious man’ (a rare person to meet with at
any time), in order to make this estimation? Why do they
not settle upon an exact sum at once?”

“Ay, indeed!” retorted the monk; “and was it so easy,
think you, to adjust the comparative value between the life
of a man, and a Christian man, too, and money? It is here
I would have you feel the need of our casuists. Show me
any of your ancient fathers who will tell for how much money
we may be allowed to kill a man. What will they say, but
‘<lang=la><i>Non occides</i></lang>—Thou shalt not kill?’”

“And who, then, has ventured to fix that sum?” I inquired.

“Our great and incomparable Molina,” he replied—“the
glory of our Society—who has, in his inimitable wisdom,
estimated the life of a man ‘at six or seven ducats; for
which sum he assures us it is warrantable to kill a thief,
even though he should run off;’ and he adds, ‘that he would
not venture to condemn that man as guilty of any sin who
should kill another for taking away an article worth a crown,
or even less—<lang=la><i>unius aurei, vel minoris adhuc valoris</i></lang>;’ which
has led Escobar to lay it down as a general rule, ‘that a man
may be killed quite regularly, according to Molina, for the
value of a crown-piece.’”

“O father!” cried I, “where can Molina have got all this
wisdom to enable him to determine a matter of such importance,
without any aid from Scripture, the councils, or the
fathers? It is quite evident that he has obtained an illumination
peculiar to himself, and is far beyond St. Augustine
in the matter of homicide, as well as of grace. Well, now,
I suppose I may consider myself master of this chapter of
morals; and I see perfectly that, with the exception of ecclesiastics,
.bn 166.png
.pn +1
nobody need refrain from killing those who injure
them in their property or reputation.”

“What say you?” exclaimed the monk. “Do you then
suppose that it would be reasonable that those who ought
of all men to be most respected, should alone be exposed to
the insolence of the wicked? Our fathers have provided
against that disorder; for Tanner declares that ‘Churchmen,
and even monks, are permitted to kill, for the purpose of
defending not only their lives, but their property, and that
of their community.’ Molina, Escobar, Becan, Reginald,
Layman, Lessius, and others, hold the same language. Nay,
according to our celebrated Father Lamy,[170] priests and monks
may lawfully prevent those who would injure them by calumnies
from carrying their ill designs into effect, by putting
them to death. Care, however, must be always taken to
direct the intention properly. His words are: ‘An ecclesiastic
or a monk may warrantably kill a defamer who threatens
to publish the scandalous crimes of his community, or his
own crimes, when there is no other way of stopping him;
if, for instance, he is prepared to circulate his defamations
unless promptly despatched. For, in these circumstances, as
the monk would be allowed to kill one who threatened to
take his life, he is also warranted to kill him who would deprive
him of his reputation or his property, in the same way
as the men of the world.’”

.pm fns 170
Francois Amicus, or L’Amy, was chancellor of the University of
Gratz. In his <cite>Cours Theologique</cite>, published in 1642 he advances the
most dangerous tenets, particularly on the subject of murder.
.pm fne

“I was not aware of that,” said I; “in fact, I have been
accustomed simply enough to believe the very reverse, without
reflecting on the matter, in consequence of having heard
that the Church had such an abhorrence of bloodshed as
not even to permit ecclesiastical judges to attend in criminal
cases.”[171]

.pm fns 171
This is true; but in the case of heretics, at least, they found out a
convenient mode of compromising the matter. Having condemned
their victim as worthy of death, he was delivered over to the secular
court, with the disgusting farce of a recommendation to mercy, couched
in these terms: “My lord judge, we beg of you with all possible affection,
for the love of God, and as you would expect the gifts of mercy
and compassion, and the benefit of our prayers, not to do anything injurious
to this miserable man, tending to death or the mutilation of his
body!” (Crespin, Hist. des Martyres, p. 185.)
.pm fne
.bn 167.png
.pn +1

“Never mind that,” he replied; “our Father Lamy has
completely proved the doctrine I have laid down, although,
with a humility which sits uncommonly well on so great a
man, he submits it to the judgment of his judicious readers.
Caramuel, too, our famous champion, quoting it in his Fundamental
Theology, p. 543, thinks it so certain, that he declares
the contrary opinion to be destitute of probability, and
draws some admirable conclusions from it, such as the following,
which he calls ‘the conclusion of conclusions—<lang=la><i>conclusionum
conclusio</i></lang>:’ ‘That a priest not only may kill a
slanderer, but there are certain circumstances in which it
may be his <em>duty</em> to do so—<lang=la><i>etiam aliquando debet occidere</i></lang>.’
He examines a great many new questions on this principle,
such as the following, for instance: ‘<em>May the Jesuits kill the
Jansenists?</em>’”

“A curious point of divinity that, father!” cried I. “I
hold the Jansenists to be as good as dead men, according to
Father Lamy’s doctrine.”

“There now, you are in the wrong,” said the monk:
“Caramuel infers the very reverse from the same principles.”

“And how so, father?”

“Because,” he replied, “it is not in the power of the Jansenists
to injure our reputation. ‘The Jansenists,’ says he,
‘call the Jesuits Pelagians; may they not be killed for
that? No; inasmuch as the Jansenists can no more obscure
the glory of the Society than an owl can eclipse that of the
sun; on the contrary, they have, though against their intention,
enhanced it—<lang=la><i>occidi non possunt, quia nocere non potuerunt</i></lang>.’”

“Ha, father! do the lives of the Jansenists, then, depend
on the contingency of their injuring your reputation? If so,
I reckon them far from being in a safe position; for supposing
.bn 168.png
.pn +1
it should be thought in the slightest degree <em>probable</em> that
they might do you some mischief, why, they are <em>killable</em> at
once! You have only to draw up a syllogism in due form,
and, with a direction of the intention, you may despatch your
man at once with a safe conscience. Thrice happy must
those hot spirits be who cannot bear with injuries, to be instructed
in this doctrine! But woe to the poor people who
have offended them! Indeed, father, it would be better to
have to do with persons who have no religion at all, than
with those who have been taught on this system. For, after
all, the intention of the wounder conveys no comfort to the
wounded. The poor man sees nothing of that secret direction
of which you speak; he is only sensible of the direction of
the blow that is dealt him. And I am by no means sure
but a person would feel much less sorry to see himself brutally
killed by an infuriated villain, than to find himself conscientiously
stilettoed by a devotee. To be plain with you,
father, I am somewhat staggered at all this; and these
questions of Father Lamy and Caramuel do not please me at
all.”

“How so?” cried the monk. “Are you a Jansenist?”

“I have another reason for it,” I replied. “You must
know I am in the habit of writing from time to time, to a
friend of mine in the country, all that I can learn of the maxims
of your doctors. Now, although I do no more than
simply report and faithfully quote their own words, yet I am
apprehensive lest my letter should fall into the hands of some
stray genius, who may take into his head that I have done
you injury, and may draw some mischievous conclusion from
your premises.”

“Away!” cried the monk; “no fear of danger from that
quarter, I’ll give you my word for it. Know that what our
fathers have themselves printed, with the approbation of
our superiors, it cannot be wrong to read nor dangerous to
publish.”

I write you, therefore, on the faith of this worthy father’s
.bn 169.png
.pn +1
word of honor. But, in the mean time, I must stop for want
of paper—not of passages; for I have got as many more in
reserve, and good ones too, as would require volumes to contain
them.—I am, &c.[172]

.pm fns 172
It may be noticed here, that Father Daniel has attempted to evade
the main charge against the Jesuits in this letter by adroitly altering the
state of the question. He argues that the <em>intention</em> is the soul of an
action, and that which often makes it good or evil; thus cunningly insinuating
that his casuists refer only to <em>indifferent</em> actions, in regard to
which nobody denies that it is the intention that makes them good or
bad. (Entretiens de Cleandre et d’Eudoxe, p. 334.) It is unnecessary
to do more than refer the reader back to the instances cited in the letter,
to convince him that what these casuists really maintain is, that actions
in themselves <em>evil</em>, may be allowed, provided the <em>intentions</em> are good;
and, moreover, that in order to make these intentions good, it is not necessary
that they have any reference to God, but sufficient if they refer
to our own convenience, cupidity or vanity. (Apologie des Lettres Provinciales,
pp. 212–221.)
.pm fne

.fm lz=t

.bn 170.png
.pn +1

.sp 4
.h2 title="LETTER VIII."
LETTER VIII.[173]

.fs 80%
.in +3
.ti -3
CORRUPT MAXIMS OF THE CASUISTS RELATING TO JUDGES—USURERS—THE
CONTRACT MOHATRA—BANKRUPTS—RESTITUTION—DIVERS
RIDICULOUS NOTIONS OF THESE SAME CASUISTS.
.in
.fs

.pm fns 173
This Letter also was revised by M. Nicole.
.pm fne

.sp 2

.rj
<sc>Paris</sc>, <i>May 28, 1656</i>.

<sc>Sir</sc>,—You did not suppose that anybody would have the
curiosity to know who we were; but it seems there are people
who are trying to make it out, though they are not very
happy in their conjectures. Some take me for a doctor of
the Sorbonne; others ascribe my letters to four or five persons,
who, like me, are neither priests nor Churchmen. All
these false surmises convince me that I have succeeded pretty
well in my object, which was to conceal myself from all but
yourself and the worthy monk, who still continues to bear
with my visits, while I still contrive, though with considerable
difficulty, to bear with his conversations. I am obliged, however,
to restrain myself; for were he to discover how much I
am shocked at his communications, he would discontinue
them, and thus put it out of my power to fulfil the promise
I gave you, of making you acquainted with their morality.
You ought to think a great deal of the violence which I thus
do to my own feelings. It is no easy matter, I can assure
you, to stand still and see the whole system of Christian ethics
undermined by such a set of monstrous principles, without
daring to put in a word of flat contradiction against them.
But after having borne so much for your satisfaction, I am
resolved I shall burst out for my own satisfaction in the end,
when his stock of information has been exhausted. Meanwhile,
I shall repress my feelings as much as I possibly can;
.bn 171.png
.pn +1
for I find that the more I hold my tongue, he is the more
communicative. The last time I saw him, he told me so
many things, that I shall have some difficulty in repeating
them all. On the point of restitution you will find they have
some most convenient principles. For, however the good
monk palliates his maxims, those which I am about to lay
before you really go to sanction corrupt judges, usurers, bankrupts,
thieves, prostitutes and sorcerers—all of whom are
most liberally absolved from the obligation of restoring their
ill-gotten gains. It was thus the monk resumed the conversation:—

“At the commencement of our interviews, I engaged to
explain to you the maxims of our authors for all ranks and
classes; and you have already seen those that relate to beneficiaries,
to priests, to monks, to domestics, and to gentlemen.
Let us now take a cursory glance of the remaining, and begin
with the judges.

“Now I am going to tell you one of the most important
and advantageous maxims which our fathers have laid down
in their favor. Its author is the learned Castro Palao, one
of our four-and-twenty elders. His words are: ‘May a
judge, in a question of right and wrong, pronounce according
to a probable opinion, in preference to the more probable
opinion? He may, even though it should be contrary to his
own judgment—<lang=la><i>imo contra propriam opinionem</i></lang>.’”

“Well, father,” cried I, “that is a very fair commencement!
The judges, surely, are greatly obliged to you; and
I am surprised that they should be so hostile, as we have
sometimes observed, to your probabilities, seeing these are so
favorable to them. For it would appear from this, that you
give them the same power over men’s fortunes, as you have
given to yourselves over their consciences.”

“You perceive we are far from being actuated by self-interest,”
returned he; “we have had no other end in view
than the repose of their consciences; and to the same useful
purpose has our great Molina devoted his attention, in regard
to the presents which may be made them. To remove
.bn 172.png
.pn +1
any scruples which they might entertain in accepting of these
on certain occasions, he has been at the pains to draw out a
list of all those cases in which bribes may be taken with a
good conscience, provided, at least, there be no special law
forbidding them. He says: ‘Judges may receive presents
from parties, when they are given them either for friendship’s
sake, or in gratitude for some former act of justice, or to
induce them to give justice in future, or to oblige them to
pay particular attention to their case, or to engage them to
despatch it promptly.’ The learned Escobar delivers himself
to the same effect: ‘If there be a number of persons, none
of whom have more right than another to have their causes
disposed of, will the judge who accepts of something from
one of them on condition—<lang=la><i>ex pacto</i></lang>—of taking up his cause
first, be guilty of sin? Certainly not, according to Layman;
for, in common equity, he does no injury to the rest, by
granting to one, in consideration of his present, what he was
at liberty to grant to any of them he pleased; and besides,
being under an equal obligation to them all in respect of their
right, he becomes more obliged to the individual who furnished
the donation, who thereby acquired for himself a preference
above the rest—a preference which seems capable of
a pecuniary valuation—<lang=la><i>quæ obligatio videtur pretio æstimabilis</i></lang>.’”

“May it please your reverence,” said I, “after such a permission,
I am surprised that the first magistrates of the kingdom
should know no better. For the first president[174] has
actually carried an order in Parliament to prevent certain
clerks of court from taking money for that very sort of preference—a
sign that he is far from thinking it allowable in
judges; and everybody has applauded this as a reform of
great benefit to all parties.”

.pm fns 174
The president referred to was Pompone de Bellievre, on whom M.
Pelisson pronounced a beautiful eulogy.
.pm fne

The worthy monk was surprised at this piece of intelligence,
and replied: “Are you sure of that? I heard nothing
.bn 173.png
.pn +1
about it. Our opinion, recollect, is only probable; the
contrary is probable also.”

“To tell you the truth, father,” said I, “people think that
the first president has acted more than probably well, and
that he has thus put a stop to a course of public corruption
which has been too long winked at.”

“I am not far from being of the same mind,” returned
he; “but let us waive that point, and say no more about the
judges.”

“You are quite right, sir,” said I; “indeed, they are not
half thankful enough for all you have done for them.”

“That is not my reason,” said the father; “but there is
so much to be said on all the different classes, that we must
study brevity on each of them. Let us now say a word or
two about men of business. You are aware that our great
difficulty with these gentlemen is to keep them from usury—an
object to accomplish which our fathers have been at particular
pains; for they hold this vice in such abhorrence, that
Escobar declares ‘it is heresy to say that usury is no sin;’
and Father Bauny has filled several pages of his Summary
of Sins with the pains and penalties due to usurers. He declares
them ‘infamous during their life, and unworthy of sepulture
after their death.’”

“O dear!” cried I, “I had no idea he was so severe.”

“He can be severe enough when there is occasion for it,”
said the monk; “but then this learned casuist, having observed
that some are allured into usury merely from the love
of gain, remarks in the same place, that ‘he would confer no
small obligation on society, who, while he guarded it against
the evil effects of usury, and of the sin which gives birth to
it, would suggest a method by which one’s money might secure
as large, if not a larger profit, in some honest and lawful
employment, than he could derive from usurious dealings.’”

“Undoubtedly, father, there would be no more usurers
after that.”

“Accordingly,” continued he, “our casuist has suggested
.bn 174.png
.pn +1
‘a general method for all sorts of persons—gentlemen, presidents,
councillors,’ &c.; and a very simple process it is, consisting
only in the use of certain words which must be pronounced
by the person in the act of lending his money; after
which he may take his interest for it without fear of being a
usurer, which he certainly would be on any other plan.”

“And pray what may those mysterious words be, father?”

“I will give you them exactly in his own words,” said the
father; “for he has written his Summary in French, you
know, ‘that it may be understood by everybody,’ as he says
in the preface: ‘The person from whom the loan is asked,
must answer, then, in this manner: I have got no money to
<em>lend</em>; I have got a little, however, to lay out for an honest
and lawful profit. If you are anxious to have the sum you
mention in order to make something of it by your industry,
dividing the profit and loss between us, I may perhaps be
able to accommodate you. But now I think of it, as it may
be a matter of difficulty to agree about the profit, if you
will secure me a certain portion of it, and give me so much
for my principal, so that it incur no risk, we may come to
terms much sooner, and you shall touch the cash immediately.’
Is not that an easy plan for gaining money without
sin? And has not Father Bauny good reason for concluding
with these words: ‘Such, in my opinion, is an excellent
plan by which a great many people, who now provoke the
just indignation of God by their usuries, extortions, and illicit
bargains, might save themselves, in the way of making good,
honest, and legitimate profits?’”

“O sir!” I exclaimed, “what potent words these must be!
Doubtless they must possess some latent virtue to chase away
the demon of usury which I know nothing of, for, in my
poor judgment, I always thought that that vice consisted in
recovering more money than what was lent.”

“You know little about it indeed,” he replied. “Usury,
according to our fathers, consists in little more than the intention
of taking the interest as usurious. Escobar, accordingly,
shows you how you may avoid usury by a simple shift
.bn 175.png
.pn +1
of the intention. ‘It would be downright usury,’ says he,
‘to take interest from the borrower, if we should exact it as
due in point of justice; but if only exacted as due in point
of gratitude, it is not usury. Again, it is not lawful to have
directly the intention of profiting by the money lent; but to
claim it through the medium of the benevolence of the borrower—<lang=la><i>media
benevolentia</i></lang>—is not usury.’ These are subtle
methods; but, to my mind, the best of them all (for we have
a great choice of them) is that of the Mohatra bargain.”

“The Mohatra, father!”

“You are not acquainted with it, I see,” returned he.
“The name is the only strange thing about it. Escobar will
explain it to you: ‘The Mohatra bargain is effected by the
needy person purchasing some goods at a high price and on
credit, in order to sell them over again, at the same time and
to the same merchant, for ready money and at a cheap rate.’
This is what we call the Mohatra—a sort of bargain, you
perceive, by which a person receives a certain sum of ready
money, by becoming bound to pay more.”

“But, sir, I really think nobody but Escobar has employed
such a term as that; is it to be found in any other book?”

“How little you do know of what is going on, to be sure!”
cried the father. “Why, the last work on theological morality,
printed at Paris this very year, speaks of the Mohatra,
and learnedly, too. It is called <cite>Epilogus Summarum</cite>, and
is an abridgment of all the summaries of divinity—extracted
from Suarez, Sanchez, Lessius, Fagundez, Hurtado, and other
celebrated casuists, as the title bears. There you will find it
said, at p. 54, that ‘the Mohatra bargain takes place when
a man who has occasion for twenty pistoles purchases from a
merchant goods to the amount of thirty pistoles, payable
within a year, and sells them back to him on the spot for
twenty pistoles ready money.’ This shows you that the
Mohatra is not such an unheard-of term as you supposed.”

“But, father, is that sort of bargain lawful?”

“Escobar,” replied he, “tells us in the same place, that
there are laws which prohibit it under very severe penalties.”
.bn 176.png
.pn +1

“It is useless, then, I suppose?”

“Not at all; Escobar, in the same passage, suggests expedients
for making it lawful: ‘It is so, even though the
principal intention both of the buyer and seller is to make
money by the transaction, provided the seller, in disposing
of the goods, does not exceed their highest price, and in re-purchasing
them does not go below their lowest price, and
that no previous bargain has been made, expressly or otherwise.’
Lessius, however, maintains, that ‘even though the
merchant has sold his goods, with the intention of re-purchasing
them at the lowest price, he is not bound to make restitution
of the profit thus acquired, unless, perhaps, as an act
of charity, in the case of the person from whom it has been
exacted being in poor circumstances, and not even then, if
he cannot do it without inconvenience—<lang=la><i>si commode non
potest</i></lang>.’ This is the utmost length to which they could go.”

“Indeed, sir,” said I, “any further indulgence would, I
should think, be rather too much.”

“Oh, our fathers know very well when it is time for them
to stop!” cried the monk. “So much, then, for the utility
of the Mohatra. I might have mentioned several other
methods, but these may suffice; and I have now to say a
little in regard to those who are in embarrassed circumstances.
Our casuists have sought to relieve them, according to their
condition of life. For, if they have not enough of property
for a decent maintenance, and at the same time for paying
their debts, they permit them to secure a portion by making
a bankruptcy with their creditors.[175] This has been decided
.bn 177.png
.pn +1
by Lessius, and confirmed by Escobar, as follows: ‘May a
person who turns bankrupt, with a good conscience keep
back as much of his personal estate as may be necessary to
maintain his family in a respectable way—<lang=la><i>ne indecorè vivat</i></lang>?
I hold, with Lessius, that he may, even though he may have
acquired his wealth unjustly and by notorious crimes—<lang=la><i>ex
injustitia et notorio delicto</i></lang>; only, in this case, he is not at
liberty to retain so large an amount as he otherwise might.’”

.pm fns 175
The Jesuits exemplified their own maxim in this case by the famous
bankruptcy of their College of St. Hermenigilde at Seville. We have
a full account of this in the memorial presented to the King of Spain by
the luckless creditors. The simple pathos and sincere earnestness of
this document preclude all suspicion of the accuracy of its statements.
By the advice of their Father Provincial, the Jesuits, in March, 1645,
stopped payments after having borrowed upwards of 450,000 ducats,
mostly from poor widows and friendless girls. This shameful affair
was exposed before the courts of justice, during a long litigation, in the
course of which it was discovered that the Jesuit fathers had been carrying
on extensive mercantile transactions, and that instead of spending
the money left them for <em>pious uses</em>—such as ransoming captives, and
alms-giving—they had devoted it to the purposes of what they termed
“our poor little house of profession.” (Theatre Jesuitique, p. 200, &c.)
.pm fne

“Indeed, father! what a strange sort of charity is this,
to allow property to remain in the hands of the man who
has acquired it by rapine, to support him in his extravagance
rather than go into the hands of his creditors, to whom it legitimately
belongs!”

“It is impossible to please everybody,” replied the father;
“and we have made it our particular study to relieve these
unfortunate people. This partiality to the poor has induced
our great Vasquez, cited by Castro Palao, to say, that ‘if one
saw a thief going to rob a poor man, it would be lawful to
divert him from his purpose by pointing out to him some
rich individual, whom he might rob in place of the other.’
If you have not access to Vasquez or Castro Palao, you will
find the same thing in your copy of Escobar; for, as you
are aware, his work is little more than a compilation from
twenty-four of the most celebrated of our fathers. You will
find it in his treatise, entitled ‘The Practice of our Society,
in the matter of Charity towards our Neighbors.’”

“A very singular kind of charity this,” I observed, “to
save one man from suffering loss, by inflicting it upon another!
But I suppose that, to complete the charity, the
charitable adviser would be bound in conscience to restore
to the rich man the sum which he had made him lose?”

“Not at all, sir,” returned the monk; “for he did not rob
the man—he only advised the other to do it. But only
attend to this notable decision of Father Bauny, on a case
which will still more astonish you, and in which you would
.bn 178.png
.pn +1
suppose there was a much stronger obligation to make restitution.
Here are his identical words: ‘A person asks a
soldier to beat his neighbor, or to set fire to the barn of a
man that has injured him. The question is, Whether, in the
absence of the soldier, the person who employed him to commit
these outrages is bound to make reparation out of his
own pocket for the damage that has followed? My opinion
is, that he is not. For none can be held bound to restitution,
where there has been no violation of justice; and is justice
violated by asking another to do us a favor? As to the
nature of the request which he made, he is at liberty either
to acknowledge or deny it; to whatever side he may incline,
it is a matter of mere choice; nothing obliges him to it, unless
it may be the goodness, gentleness, and easiness of his
disposition. If the soldier, therefore, makes no reparation
for the mischief he has done, it ought not to be exacted from
him at whose request he injured the innocent.’”

This sentence had very nearly broken up the whole conversation,
for I was on the point of bursting into a laugh at
the idea of the <em>goodness and gentleness</em> of a burner of barns,
and at these strange sophisms which would exempt from the
duty of restitution the principal and real incendiary, whom
the civil magistrate would not exempt from the halter. But
had I not restrained myself, the worthy monk, who was perfectly
serious, would have been displeased; he proceeded,
therefore, without any alteration of countenance, in his observations.

“From such a mass of evidence, you ought to be satisfied
now of the futility of your objections; but we are losing
sight of our subject. To revert, then, to the succor which
our fathers apply to persons in straitened circumstances,
Lessius, among others, maintains that ‘it is lawful to steal,
not only in a case of extreme necessity, but even where the
necessity is <em>grave</em>, though not extreme.’”

“This is somewhat startling, father,” said I. “There are
very few people in this world who do not consider their cases
of necessity to be <em>grave</em> ones, and to whom, accordingly, you
.bn 179.png
.pn +1
would not give the right of stealing with a good conscience.
And though you should restrict the permission to those only
who are really and truly in that condition, you open the door
to an infinite number of petty larcenies which the magistrates
would punish in spite of your ‘grave necessity,’ and which
you ought to repress on a higher principle—you who are
bound by your office to be the conservators, not of justice
only, but of charity between man and man, a grace which
this permission would destroy. For after all, now, is it not
a violation of the law of charity, and of our duty to our
neighbor, to deprive a man of his property in order to turn
it to our own advantage? Such, at least, is the way I have
been taught to think hitherto.”

“That will not always hold true,” replied the monk; “for
our great Molina has taught us that ‘the rule of charity does
not bind us to deprive ourselves of a profit, in order thereby
to save our neighbor from a corresponding loss.’ He advances
this in corroboration of what he had undertaken to
prove—‘that one is not bound in conscience to restore the
goods which another had put into his hands in order to cheat
his creditors.’ Lessius holds the same opinion, on the same
ground.[176] Allow me to say, sir, that you have too little
compassion for people in distress. Our fathers have had
more charity than that comes to: they render ample justice
to the poor, as well as the rich; and, I may add, to sinners
as well as saints. For, though far from having any predilection
for criminals, they do not scruple to teach that the
property gained by crime may be lawfully retained. ‘No
person,’ says Lessius, speaking generally, ‘is bound, either
by the law of nature or by positive laws (that is, <em>by any law</em>),
to make restitution of what has been gained by committing a
criminal action, such as adultery, even though that action is
contrary to justice.’ For, as Escobar comments on this
writer, ‘though the property which a woman acquires by
adultery is certainly gained in an illicit way, yet once acquired,
.bn 180.png
.pn +1
the possession of it is lawful—<lang=la><i>quamvis mulier illicitè
acquisat, licitè tamen retinet acquisita</i></lang>.’ It is on this principle
that the most celebrated of our writers have formally
decided that the bribe received by a judge from one of the
parties who has a bad case, in order to procure an unjust decision
in his favor, the money got by a soldier for killing a
man, or the emoluments gained by infamous crimes, may be
legitimately retained. Escobar, who has collected this from
a number of our authors, lays down this general rule on the
point, that ‘the means acquired by infamous courses, such
as murder, unjust decisions, profligacy, &c., are legitimately
possessed, and none are obliged to restore them.’ And
further, ‘they may dispose of what they have received for
homicide, profligacy, &c., as they please; for the possession
is just, and they have acquired a propriety in the fruits of
their iniquity.’”[177]

.pm fns 176
Molina, t. ii., tr. 2, disp. 338, n. 8; Lessius, liv. ii., ch. 20, dist. 19,
n. 168.
.pm fne

.pm fns 177
Escobar, tr. 3, ex. 1, n. 23, tr. 5, ex. 5, n. 53.
.pm fne

“My dear father,” cried I, “this is a mode of acquisition
which I never heard of before; and I question much if the
law will hold it good, or if it will consider assassination, injustice,
and adultery, as giving valid titles to property.”

“I do not know what your law-books may say on the
point,” returned the monk; “but I know well that our
books, which are the genuine rules for conscience, bear me
out in what I say. It is true they make one exception, in
which restitution is positively enjoined; that is, in the case
of any receiving money from those who have no right to dispose
of their property, such as <em>minors and monks</em>. ‘Unless,’
says the great Molina, ‘a woman has received money from
one who cannot dispose of it, such as a monk or a minor—<lang=la><i>nisi
mulier accepisset ab eo qui alienare non potest, ut a religioso
et filio familias</i></lang>. In this case she must give back the
money.’ And so says Escobar.”[178]

.pm fns 178
Molina, l. tom. i.; De Just., tr. 2, disp. 94; Escobar, tr. 1, ex. 8, n.
59, tr. 3, ex. 1, n. 23.
.pm fne

“May it please your reverence,” said I, “the monks,
.bn 181.png
.pn +1
I see, are more highly favored in this way than other
people.”

“By no means,” he replied; “have they not done as
much generally for all minors, in which class monks may be
viewed as continuing all their lives? It is barely an act of
justice to make them an exception; but with regard to all
other people, there is no obligation whatever to refund to
them the money received from them for a criminal action.
For, as has been amply shown by Lessius, ‘a wicked action
may have its price fixed in money, by calculating the advantage
received by the person who orders it to be done, and
the trouble taken by him who carries it into execution; on
which account the latter is not bound to restore the money
he got for the deed, whatever that may have been—homicide,
injustice, or a foul act’ (for such are the illustrations
which he uniformly employs in this question); ‘unless he
obtained the money from those having no right to dispose of
their property. You may object, perhaps, that he who has
obtained money for a piece of wickedness is sinning, and
therefore ought neither to receive nor retain it. But I reply,
that after the thing is done, there can be no sin either in
giving or in receiving payment for it.’ The great Filiutius
enters still more minutely into details, remarking, ‘that a
man is <em>bound in conscience</em>, to vary his payments for actions
of this sort, according to the different conditions of the individuals
who commit them, and some may bring a higher
price than others.’ This he confirms by very solid arguments.”[179]

.pm fns 179
Tr. 31, c. 9, n. 231.—“Occultæ fornicariæ debetur pretium in conscientia,
et multo majore ratione, quam publicæ. Copia enim quam
occulta facit mulier sui corporis, multo plus valet quam ea quam publica
facit meretrix; nec ulla est lex positiva quæ reddit eam incapacem
pretii. Idem dicendum de pretio promisso virgini, conjugatæ, moniali,
et cuicumque alii. Est enim omnium eadem ratio.”
.pm fne

He then pointed out to me, in his authors, some things of
this nature so indelicate that I should be ashamed to repeat
them; and indeed the monk himself, who is a good man,
would have been horrified at them himself, were it not for
.bn 182.png
.pn +1
the profound respect which he entertains for his fathers, and
which makes him receive with veneration everything that
proceeds from them. Meanwhile, I held my tongue, not so
much with the view of allowing him to enlarge on this matter,
as from pure astonishment at finding the books of men
in holy orders stuffed with sentiments at once so horrible, so
iniquitous, and so silly. He went on, therefore, without interruption
in his discourse, concluding as follows:—

“From these premises, our illustrious Molina decides the
following question (and after this, I think you will have got
enough): ‘If one has received money to perpetrate a wicked
action, is he obliged to restore it? We must distinguish
here,’ says this great man; ‘if he has not done the deed, he
must give back the cash; if he has, he is under no such obligation!’[180]
Such are some of our principles touching restitution.
You have got a great deal of instruction to-day; and
I should like, now, to see what proficiency you have made.
Come, then, answer me this question: ‘Is a judge, who has
received a sum of money from one of the parties before him,
in order to pronounce a judgment in his favor, obliged to
make restitution?’”

.pm fns 180
Quoted by Escobar, tr. 3, ex. 2, n. 138.
.pm fne

“You were just telling me a little ago, father, that he
was not.”

“I told you no such thing,” replied the father; “did I
express myself so generally? I told you he was not bound
to make restitution, provided he succeeded in gaining the
cause for the party who had the wrong side of the question.
But if a man has justice on his side, would you have him to
purchase the success of his cause, which is his legitimate
right? You are very unconscionable. Justice, look you, is
a debt which the judge owes, and therefore he cannot sell
it; but he cannot be said to owe injustice, and therefore he
may lawfully receive money for it. All our leading authors,
accordingly, agree in teaching ‘that though a judge is bound
to restore the money he had received for doing an act of justice,
unless it was given him out of mere generosity, he is not
.bn 183.png
.pn +1
obliged to restore what he has received from a man in whose
favor he has pronounced an unjust decision.’”[181]

.pm fns 181
Molina, 94, 99; Reginald. l. 10, 184; Filiutius, tr. 31; Escobar,
tr. 3; Lessius, l. 2, 14.
.pm fne

This preposterous decision fairly dumbfounded me, and
while I was musing on its pernicious tendencies, the monk
had prepared another question for me. “Answer me again,”
said he, “with a little more circumspection. Tell me now,
‘if a man who deals in divination is obliged to make restitution
of the money he has acquired in the exercise of his
art?’”

“Just as you please, your reverence,” said I.

“Eh! what!—just as I please! Indeed, but you are a
pretty scholar! It would seem, according to your way of
talking, that the truth depended on our will and pleasure.
I see that, in the present case, you would never find it out
yourself: so I must send you to Sanchez for a solution of
the problem—no less a man than Sanchez. In the first
place, he makes a distinction between ‘the case of the diviner
who has recourse to astrology and other natural means,
and that of another who employs the diabolical art. In the
one case, he says, the diviner is bound to make restitution;
in the other he is not.’ Now, guess which of them is the
party bound?”

“It is not difficult to find out that,” said I.

“I see what you mean to say,” he replied. “You think
that he ought to make restitution in the case of his having
employed the agency of demons. But you know nothing
about it; it is just the reverse. ‘If,’ says Sanchez, ‘the
sorcerer has not taken care and pains to discover, by means
of the devil, what he could not have known otherwise, he
must make restitution—<lang=la><i>si nullam operam apposuit ut arte
diaboli id sciret</i></lang>; but if he has been at that trouble, he is not
obliged.’”

“And why so, father?”

“Don’t you see?” returned he. “It is because men may
.bn 184.png
.pn +1
truly divine by the aid of the devil, whereas astrology is a
mere sham.”

“But, sir, should the devil happen not to tell the truth
(and he is not much more to be trusted than astrology), the
magician must, I should think, for the same reason, be obliged
to make restitution?”

“Not always,” replied the monk: “<lang=la><i>Distinguo</i></lang>, as Sanchez
says, here. ‘If the magician be ignorant of the diabolic art—<lang=la><i>si
sit artis diabolicæ ignarus</i></lang>—he is bound to restore: but if he
is an expert sorcerer, and has done all in his power to arrive
at the truth, the obligation ceases; for the industry of such a
magician may be estimated at a certain sum of money.’”

“There is some sense in that,” I said; “for this is an excellent
plan to induce sorcerers to aim at proficiency in their
art, in the hope of making an honest livelihood, as you would
say, by faithfully serving the public.”

“You are making a jest of it, I suspect,” said the father:
“that is very wrong. If you were to talk in that way in
places where you were not known, some people might take it
amiss, and charge you with turning sacred subjects into ridicule.”

“That, father, is a charge from which I could very easily
vindicate myself; for certain I am that whoever will be at the
trouble to examine the true meaning of my words will find
my object to be precisely the reverse; and perhaps, sir, before
our conversations are ended, I may find an opportunity of
making this very amply apparent.”

“Ho, ho,” cried the monk, “there is no laughing in your
head now.”

“I confess,” said I, “that the suspicion that I intended to
laugh at things sacred, would be as painful for me to incur,
as it would be unjust in any to entertain it.”

“I did not say it in earnest,” returned the father; “but
let us speak more seriously.”

“I am quite disposed to do so, if you prefer it; that depends
upon you, father. But I must say, that I have been
astonished to see your friends carrying their attentions to all
.bn 185.png
.pn +1
sorts and conditions of men so far as even to regulate the
legitimate gains of sorcerers.”

“One cannot write for too many people,” said the monk,
“nor be too minute in particularizing cases, nor repeat the
same things too often in different books. You may be convinced
of this by the following anecdote, which is related by
one of the gravest of our fathers, as you may well suppose,
seeing he is our present Provincial—the reverend Father Cellot:
‘We know a person,’ says he, ‘who was carrying a
large sum of money in his pocket to restore it, in obedience
to the orders of his confessor, and who, stepping into a bookseller’s
shop by the way, inquired if there was anything
new?—<lang=la><i>numquid novi?</i></lang>—when the bookseller showed him a
book on moral theology, recently published; and turning over
the leaves carelessly, and without reflection, he lighted upon
a passage describing his own case, and saw that he was under
no obligation to make restitution: upon which, relieved
from the burden of his scruples, he returned home with a
purse no less heavy, and a heart much lighter, than when he
left it:—<lang=la><i>abjecta scrupuli sarcina, retento auri pondere, levior
domum repetiit</i></lang>.’[182]

.pm fns 182
Cellot, liv. viii., de la Hierarch, c. 16, 2.
.pm fne

“Say, after hearing that, if it is useful or not to know our
maxims? Will you laugh at them now? or rather, are you
not prepared to join with Father Cellot in the pious reflection
which he makes on the blessedness of that incident?
‘Accidents of that kind,’ he remarks, ‘are, with God, the
effect of his providence; with the guardian angel, the effect
of his good guidance; with the individuals to whom they
happen, the effect of their predestination. From all eternity,
God decided that the golden chain of their salvation should
depend on such and such an author, and not upon a hundred
others who say the same thing, because they never happen
to meet with them. Had that man not written, this man
would not have been saved. All, therefore, who find fault
with the multitude of our authors, we would beseech, in the
bowels of Jesus Christ, to beware of envying others those
.bn 186.png
.pn +1
books which the eternal election of God and the blood of Jesus
Christ has purchased for them!’ Such are the eloquent
terms in which this learned man proves so successfully the
proposition which he had advanced, namely, ‘How useful it
must be to have a great many writers on moral theology—<lang=la><i>quàm
utile sit de theologia morali multos scribere</i></lang>!’”

“Father,” said I, “I shall defer giving you my opinion of
that passage to another opportunity; in the mean time, I
shall only say that as your maxims are so useful, and as it is so
important to publish them, you ought to continue to give me
further instruction in them. For I can assure you that the
person to whom I send them shows my letters to a great
many people. Not that we intend to avail ourselves of them
in our own case; but indeed we think it will be useful for
the world to be informed about them.”

“Very well,” rejoined the monk, “you see I do not conceal
them; and, in continuation, I am ready to furnish you, at
our next interview, with an account of the comforts and
indulgences which our fathers allow, with the view of rendering
salvation easy, and devotion agreeable; so that in addition
to what you have hitherto learned as to particular conditions
of men, you may learn what applies in general to all
classes, and thus you will have gone through a complete
course of instruction.”—So saying, the monk took his leave
of me.—I am, &c.

.tb

<i>P. S.</i>—I have always forgot to tell you that there are different
editions of Escobar. Should you think of purchasing
him, I would advise you to choose the Lyons edition, having
on the title-page the device of a lamb lying on a book sealed
with seven seals; or the Brussels edition of 1651. Both of
these are better and larger than the previous editions published
at Lyons in the years 1644 and 1646.[183]

.pm fns 183
“Since all this, a new edition has been printed at Paris, by Piget,
more correct than any of the rest. But the sentiments of Escobar may
be still better ascertained from the great work on moral theology, printed
at Lyons.” (Note in Nicole’s edition of the Letters.)

I may avail myself of this space to remark, that not one of the charges
brought against the Jesuits in this letter has been met by Father
Daniel in his celebrated reply. Indeed, after some vain efforts to contradict
about a dozen passages in the letters, he leaves avowedly more
than a hundred without daring to answer them. The pretext for thus
failing to perform what he professed to do, and what he so loudly boasts,
at the commencement, of his being able to do, is ingenious enough.
“You will easily comprehend,” says one of his characters, “that this
confronting of texts and quotations is not a great treat for a man of my
taste. I could not stand this <em>disagreeable labor</em> much longer.” (Entretiens
de Cleandre et d’Eudoxe, p. 277.) We reserve our remarks on
the pretended falsifications charged against Pascal, till we come to his
own masterly defence of himself in the subsequent letters.
.pm fne

.fm lz=t

.bn 187.png
.bn 188.png
.pn +2

.sp 4
.h2
LETTER IX.

.fs 80%
.in +3
.ti -3
FALSE WORSHIP OF THE VIRGIN INTRODUCED BY THE JESUITS—DEVOTION
MADE EASY—THEIR MAXIMS ON AMBITION, ENVY,
GLUTTONY, EQUIVOCATION, AND MENTAL RESERVATIONS—FEMALE
DRESS—GAMING—HEARING MASS.
.in
.fs

.sp 2

.rj
<sc>Paris</sc>, <i>July 3, 1656</i>.

<sc>Sir</sc>,—I shall use as little ceremony with you as the
worthy monk did with me, when I saw him last. The moment
he perceived me, he came forward with his eyes fixed
on a book which he held in his hand and accosted me thus:
“‘Would you not be infinitely obliged to any one who should
open to you the gates of paradise? Would you not give
millions of gold to have a key by which you might gain admittance
whenever you thought proper? You need not be
at such expense; here is one—here are a hundred for much
less money.’”

At first I was at a loss to know whether the good father
was reading, or talking to me, but he soon put the matter
beyond doubt by adding:

“These, sir, are the opening words of a fine book, written
by Father Barry of our Society; for I never give you anything
of my own.”

“What book is it?” asked I.

“Here is its title,” he replied: “‘<i>Paradise opened to
Philagio, in a Hundred Devotions to the Mother of God, easily
practised.</i>’”

“Indeed, father! and is each of these easy devotions a
sufficient passport to heaven?”

“It is,” returned he. “Listen to what follows: ‘The devotions
to the Mother of God, which you will find in this
book, are so many celestial keys, which will open wide to
.bn 189.png
.pn +1
you the gates of paradise, provided you practise them;’ and
accordingly, he says at the conclusion, ‘that he is satisfied
if you practise only one of them.’”

“Pray, then, father, do teach me one of the easiest of
them.”

“They are all easy,” he replied; “for example—‘Saluting
the Holy Virgin when you happen to meet her image—saying
the little chaplet of the pleasures of the Virgin—fervently
pronouncing the name of Mary—commissioning the
angels to bow to her for us—wishing to build her as many
churches as all the monarchs on earth have done—bidding her
good morrow every morning, and good night in the evening—saying
the <i>Ave Maria</i> every day, in honor of the heart of
Mary’—which last devotion, he says, possesses the additional
virtue of securing us the heart of the Virgin.”[184]

.pm fns 184
“Towards the conclusion of the tenth century, new accessions
were made to the worship of the Virgin. In this age, (the tenth century)
there are to be found manifest indications of the institution of the
<em>rosary</em> and <em>crown</em> (or chaplet) of the Virgin, by which her worshippers
were to reckon the number of prayers they were to offer to this new
divinity. The rosary consists of fifteen repetitions of the Lords Prayer,
and a hundred and fifty salutations of the blessed Virgin; while the
crown consists in six or seven repetitions of the Lord’s Prayer, and
seven times ten salutations, or <em>Ave Marias</em>.” (Mosheim. cent. x.)
.pm fne

“But, father,” said I, “only provided we give her our own
in return, I presume?”

“That,” he replied, “is not absolutely necessary, when
a person is too much attached to the world. Hear Father
Barry: ‘Heart for heart would, no doubt, be highly proper;
but yours is rather too much attached to the world, too much
bound up in the creature, so that I dare not advise you to
offer, at present, that <em>poor little slave</em> which you call your
heart.’ And so he contents himself with the <em>Ave Maria</em>
which he had prescribed.”[185]

.pm fns 185
These are the devotions presented at pp. 33, 59, 145, 156, 172, 258,
420 of the first edition.
.pm fne

“Why, this is extremely easy work,” said I, “and I should
really think that nobody will be damned after that.”

“Alas!” said the monk, “I see you have no idea of the
hardness of some people’s hearts. There are some, sir, who
.bn 190.png
.pn +1
would never engage to repeat, every day, even these simple
words, <em>Good day</em>, <em>Good evening</em>, just because such a practice
would require some exertion of memory. And, accordingly,
it became necessary for Father Barry to furnish them
with expedients still easier, such as wearing a chaplet night
and day on the arm, in the form of a bracelet, or carrying
about one’s person a rosary, or an image of the Virgin.[186]
‘And, tell me now,’ as Father Barry says, ‘if I have not provided
you with easy devotions to obtain the good graces of
Mary?’”

.pm fns 186
See the devotions, at pp. 14, 326, 447.
.pm fne

“Extremely easy indeed, father,” I observed.

“Yes,” he said, “it is as much as could possibly be done,
and I think should be quite satisfactory. For he must be a
wretched creature indeed, who would not spare a single moment
in all his lifetime to put a chaplet on his arm, or a rosary
in his pocket, and thus secure his salvation; and that,
too, with so much certainty that none who have tried the
experiment have ever found it to fail, in whatever way they
may have lived; though, let me add, we exhort people not
to omit holy living. Let me refer you to the example of this,
given at p. 34; it is that of a female who, while she practised
daily the devotion of saluting the images of the Virgin,
spent all her days in mortal sin, and yet was saved after all,
by the merit of that single devotion.”

“And how so?” cried I.

“Our Saviour,” he replied, “raised her up again, for the
very purpose of showing it. So certain it is, that none can
perish who practise any one of these devotions.”

“My dear sir,” I observed, “I am fully aware that the
devotions to the Virgin are a powerful mean of salvation, and
that the least of them, if flowing from the exercise of faith
and charity, as in the case of the saints who have practised
them, are of great merit; but to make persons believe that,
by practising these without reforming their wicked lives, they
will be converted by them at the hour of death, or that God
will raise them up again, does appear calculated rather to
.bn 191.png
.pn +1
keep sinners going on in their evil courses, by deluding them
with false peace and fool-hardy confidence, than to draw them
off from sin by that genuine conversion which grace alone
can effect.”[187]

.pm fns 187
The Jesuits raised a great outcry against Pascal for having, in this
letter, as they alleged, turned the worship of the Virgin into ridicule.
Nicole seriously undertakes his defence, and draws several distinctions
between true and false devotion to the Virgin. The Mariolatry or
Mary-worship, of Pascal and the Port-Royalists, was certainly a different
sort of thing from that practised in the Church of Rome; but it is
sad to see the straits to which these sincere devotees were reduced, in
their attempts to reconcile this practice with the honor due to God and
his Son.
.pm fne

“What does it matter,” replied the monk, “by what road
we enter paradise, provided we do enter it? as our famous
Father Binet, formerly our provincial, remarks on a similar
subject, in his excellent book On the Mark of Predestination,
‘Be it by hook or by crook,’ as he says, ‘what need we care,
if we reach at last the celestial city.’”

“Granted,” said I; “but the great question is, if we will
get there at all?”

“The Virgin will be answerable for that,” returned he;
“so says Father Barry in the concluding lines of his book:
‘If, at the hour of death, the enemy should happen to put
in some claim upon you, and occasion disturbance in the little
commonwealth of your thoughts, you have only to say that
Mary will answer for you, and that he must make his application
to her.’”

“But, father, it might be possible to puzzle you, were one
disposed to push the question a little further. Who, for
example, has assured us that the Virgin will be answerable
in this case?”

“Father Barry will be answerable for her,” he replied.
“‘As for the profit and happiness to be derived from these
devotions,’ he says, ‘I will be answerable for that; I will
stand bail for the good Mother.’”

“But, father, who is to be answerable for Father Barry?”

“How!” cried the monk; “for Father Barry? is he not a
member of our Society? and do you need to be told that
.bn 192.png
.pn +1
our Society is answerable for all the books of its members?
It is highly necessary and important for you to know about
this. There is an order in our Society, by which all booksellers
are prohibited from printing any work of our fathers
without the approbation of our divines and the permission
of our superiors. This regulation was passed by Henry III.,
10th May 1583, and confirmed by Henry IV., 20th December
1603, and by Louis XIII., 14th February 1612; so that
the whole of our body stands responsible for the publications
of each of the brethren. This is a feature quite peculiar
to our community. And, in consequence of this, not a
single work emanates from us which does not breathe the
spirit of the Society. That, sir, is a piece of information
quite <em>apropos</em>.”[188]

.pm fns 188
Father Daniel makes an ingenious attempt to take off the force of
this statement, by representing it as no more than what is done by
other societies, universities, &c. (Entretiens, p. 32.) But while these
bodies acted in good faith on this rule, the Jesuits (as Pascal afterwards
shows, Letter xiii.) made it subservient to their double policy. Pascal’s
point was gained by establishing the fact, that the books published by
the Jesuits had the imprimatur of the Society; and, in answer to all
that Daniel has said on the point, it may be sufficient to ask, Why not
try the simple plan of denouncing the error and censuring the author?
(See Letter v., p. 117.)
.pm fne

“My good father,” said I, “you oblige me very much, and
I only regret that I did not know this sooner, as it will induce
me to pay considerably more attention to your authors.”

“I would have told you sooner,” he replied, “had an opportunity
offered; I hope, however, you will profit by the information
in future, and, in the mean time, let us prosecute
our subject. The methods of securing salvation which I
have mentioned are, in my opinion, very easy, very sure, and
sufficiently numerous; but it was the anxious wish of our
doctors that people should not stop short at this first step,
where they only do what is absolutely necessary for salvation,
and nothing more. Aspiring, as they do without ceasing,
after the greater glory of God,[189] they sought to elevate
.bn 193.png
.pn +1
men to a higher pitch of piety; and as men of the world
are generally deterred from devotion by the strange ideas
they have been led to form of it by some people, we have
deemed it of the highest importance to remove this obstacle
which meets us at the threshold. In this department Father
Le Moine has acquired much fame, by his work entitled
<sc>Devotion made Easy</sc>, composed for this very purpose. The
picture which he draws of devotion in this work is perfectly
charming. None ever understood the subject before him.
Only hear what he says in the beginning of his work: ‘Virtue
has never as yet been seen aright; no portrait of her,
hitherto produced, has borne the least verisimilitude. It is
by no means surprising that so few have attempted to scale
her rocky eminence. She has been held up as a cross-tempered
dame, whose only delight is in solitude; she has been
associated with toil and sorrow; and, in short, represented
as the foe of sports and diversions, which are, in fact, the
flowers of joy and the seasoning of life.’”

.pm fns 189
There is an allusion here to the phrase which is perpetually occurring
in the <i>Constitutions</i> of the Jesuits, “<lang=la><i>Ad majorem Dei gloriam</i></lang>—To
the greater glory of God,” which is the reason ostentatiously paraded
for almost all their laws and customs.
.pm fne

“But, father, I am sure, I have heard at least, that there
have been great saints who led extremely austere lives.”

“No doubt of that,” he replied; “but still, to use the
language of the doctor, ‘there have always been a number
of genteel saints, and well-bred devotees;’ and this difference
in their manners, mark you, arises entirely from a difference
of humors. ‘I am far from denying,’ says my author,
‘that there are devout persons to be met with, pale and melancholy
in their temperament, fond of silence and retirement,
with phlegm instead of blood in their veins, and with faces
of clay; but there are many others of a happier complexion,
and who possess that sweet and warm humor, that genial
and rectified blood, which is the true stuff that joy is made of.’

“You see,” resumed the monk, “that the love of silence
and retirement is not common to all devout people; and that,
as I was saying, this is the effect rather of their complexion
than their piety. Those austere manners to which you refer,
.bn 194.png
.pn +1
are, in fact, properly the character of a savage and barbarian,
and, accordingly, you will find them ranked by Father Le
Moine among the ridiculous and brutal manners of a moping
idiot. The following is the description he has drawn of one
of these in the seventh book of his Moral Pictures: ‘He
has no eyes for the beauties of art or nature. Were he to
indulge in anything that gave him pleasure, he would consider
himself oppressed with a grievous load. On festival
days, he retires to hold fellowship with the dead. He delights
in a grotto rather than a palace, and prefers the stump
of a tree to a throne. As to injuries and affronts, he is as
insensible to them as if he had the eyes and ears of a statue.
Honor and glory are idols with whom he has no acquaintance,
and to whom he has no incense to offer. To him a beautiful
woman is no better than a spectre; and those imperial and
commanding looks—those charming tyrants who hold so
many slaves in willing and chainless servitude—have no more
influence over his optics than the sun over those of owls,’ &c.”

“Reverend sir,” said I, “had you not told me that Father
Le Moine was the author of that description, I declare I
would have guessed it to be the production of some profane
fellow, who had drawn it expressly with the view of turning
the saints into ridicule. For if that is not the picture of a
man entirely denied to those feelings which the Gospel obliges
us to renounce, I confess that I know nothing of the matter.”[190]

.pm fns 190
If Rome be in the right, Pascal’s notion is correct. The religion
of the monastery is the only sort of piety or seriousness known to, or
sanctioned by, the Romish Church.
.pm fne

“You may now perceive, then, the extent of your ignorance,”
he replied; “for these are the features of a feeble,
uncultivated mind, ‘destitute of those virtuous and natural
affections which it ought to possess,’ as Father Le Moine
says at the close of that description. Such is his way of
teaching ‘Christian virtue and philosophy,’ as he announces
in his advertisement; and, in truth, it cannot be denied that
this method of treating devotion is much more agreeable to
.bn 195.png
.pn +1
the taste of the world than the old way in which they went
to work before our times.”

“There can be no comparison between them,” was my reply,
“and I now begin to hope that you will be as good as
your word.”

“You will see that better by-and-by,” returned the monk.
“Hitherto I have only spoken of piety in general, but, just
to show you more in detail how our fathers have disencumbered
it of its toils and troubles, would it not be most consoling
to the ambitious to learn that they may maintain genuine
devotion along with an inordinate love of greatness?”

“What, father! even though they should run to the utmost
excess of ambition?”

“Yes,” he replied; “for this would be only a venial sin,
unless they sought after greatness in order to offend God and
injure the State more effectually. Now venial sins do not
preclude a man from being devout, as the greatest saints are
not exempt from them.[191] ‘Ambition,’ says Escobar, ‘which
consists in an inordinate appetite for place and power, is of
itself a venial sin; but when such dignities are coveted for
the purpose of hurting the commonwealth, or having more
opportunity to offend God, these adventitious circumstances
render it mortal.’”

.pm fns 191
The Romish distinction of sins into <em>venial</em> and <em>mortal</em>, afforded too
fair a pretext for such sophistical conclusions to be overlooked by Jesuitical
casuists.
.pm fne

“Very savory doctrine, indeed, father.”

“And is it not still more savory,” continued the monk,
“for misers to be told, by the same authority, ‘that the rich
are not guilty of mortal sin by refusing to give alms out of
their superfluity to the poor in the hour of their greatest
need?—<lang=la><i>scio in gravi pauperum necessitate divites non dando
superflua, non peccare mortaliter</i></lang>.’”

“Why truly,” said I, “if that be the case, I give up all
pretension to skill in the science of sins.”

“To make you still more sensible of this,” returned he,
“you have been accustomed to think, I suppose, that a good
.bn 196.png
.pn +1
opinion of one’s self, and a complacency in one’s own works,
is a most dangerous sin? Now, will you not be surprised if
I can show you that such a good opinion, even though there
should be no foundation for it, is so far from being a sin, that
it is, on the contrary, <em>the gift of God</em>?”

“Is it possible, father?”

“That it is,” said the monk; “and our good Father
Garasse[192] shows it in his French work, entitled Summary of
the Capital Truths of Religion: ‘It is a result of commutative
justice that all honest labor should find its recompense
either in praise or in self-satisfaction. When men of good
talents publish some excellent work, they are justly remunerated
by public applause. But when a man of weak parts
has wrought hard at some worthless production, and fails to
obtain the praise of the public, in order that his labor may
not go without its reward, God imparts to him a personal
satisfaction, which it would be worse than barbarous injustice
to envy him. It is thus that God, who is infinitely
just, has given even to frogs a certain complacency in their
own croaking.’”

.pm fns 192
Francois Garasse was a Jesuit of Angouleme; he died in 1631.
He was much followed as a preacher, his sermons being copiously interlarded
with buffoonery. His controversial works are full of fire and
fury; and his theological Summary, to which Pascal here refers,
abounds with eccentricities. It deserves to be mentioned, as some offset
to the folly of this writer, that Father Garasse lost his life in consequence
of his attentions to his countrymen who were infected with the
plague.
.pm fne

“Very fine decisions in favor of vanity, ambition, and avarice!”
cried I; “and envy, father, will it be more difficult to
find an excuse for it?”

“That is a delicate point,” he replied. “We require to
make use here of Father Bauny’s distinction, which he lays
down in his Summary of Sins: ‘Envy of the spiritual good
of our neighbor is mortal, but envy of his temporal good is
only venial.’”

“And why so, father?”

“You shall hear,” said he. “‘For the good that consists
in temporal things is so slender, and so insignificant in relation
.bn 197.png
.pn +1
to heaven, that it is of no consideration in the eyes of
God and his saints.’”

“But, father, if temporal good is so <em>slender</em>, and of so little
consideration, how do you come to permit men’s lives to be
taken away in order to preserve it?”[193]

.pm fns 193
See before, Letter vii., p. 159.
.pm fne

“You mistake the matter entirely,” returned the monk;
“you were told that temporal good was of no consideration
in the eyes of God, but not in the eyes of men.”

“That idea never occurred to me,” I replied; “and now,
it is to be hoped that, in virtue of these same distinctions,
the world will get rid of mortal sins altogether.”

“Do not flatter yourself with that,” said the father;
“there are still such things as mortal sins—there is sloth,
for example.”

“Nay, then, father dear!” I exclaimed, “after that, farewell
to all ‘the joys of life!’”

“Stay,” said the monk, “when you have heard Escobar’s
definition of that vice, you will perhaps change your tone:
‘Sloth,’ he observes, ‘lies in grieving that spiritual things are
spiritual, as if one should lament that the sacraments are the
sources of grace; which would be a mortal sin.’”

“O my dear sir!” cried I, “I don’t think that anybody
ever took it into his head to be slothful in that way.”

“And accordingly,” he replied, “Escobar afterwards remarks:
‘I must confess that it is very rarely that a person
falls into the sin of sloth.’ You see now how important it is
to <em>define</em> things properly?”

“Yes, father, and this brings to my mind your other definitions
about assassinations, ambuscades, and superfluities.
But why have you not extended your method to all cases,
and given definitions of all vices in your way; so that people
may no longer sin in gratifying themselves?”

“It is not always essential,” he replied, “to accomplish
that purpose by changing the definitions of things. I may
illustrate this by referring to the subject of good cheer, which
is accounted one of the greatest pleasures of life, and which
.bn 198.png
.pn +1
Escobar thus sanctions in his ‘Practice according to our Society:’
‘Is it allowable for a person to eat and drink to repletion,
unnecessarily, and solely for pleasure? Certainly he may,
according to Sanchez, provided he does not thereby injure his
health; because the natural appetite may be permitted to
enjoy its proper functions.’”[194]

.pm fns 194
“<lang=la><i>An comedere et libere usque ad satietatem absque necessitate ob solam
voluptatem, sit peccatum? Cum Sanctio negative respondeo, modo non
obsit valetudini, quia licite potest appetitus naturalis suis actibus frui.</i></lang>”
(N. 102.)
.pm fne

“Well, father, that is certainly the most complete passage,
and the most finished maxim in the whole of your
moral system! What comfortable inferences may be drawn
from it! Why, and is gluttony, then, not even a venial
sin?”

“Not in the shape I have just referred to,” he replied;
“but, according to the same author, it would be a venial sin
‘were a person to gorge himself, unnecessarily, with eating
and drinking, to such a degree as to produce vomiting.’[195]
So much for that point. I would now say a little about the
facilities we have invented for avoiding sin in worldly conversations
and intrigues. One of the most embarrassing of these
cases is how to avoid telling lies, particularly when one is
anxious to induce a belief in what is false. In such cases,
our doctrine of equivocations has been found of admirable
service, according to which, as Sanchez has it, ‘it is permitted
to use ambiguous terms, leading people to understand
them in another sense from that in which we understand
them ourselves.’”[196]

.pm fns 195
“<lang=la><i>Si quis se usque ad vomitum ingurgitet.</i></lang>” (Esc., n. 56.)
.pm fne

.pm fns 196
Op. mor., p. 2, l. 3, c. 6, n. 13.
.pm fne

“I know that already, father,” said I.

“We have published it so often,” continued he, “that at
length, it seems, everybody knows of it. But do you know
what is to be done when no equivocal words can be got?”

“No, father.”

“I thought as much,” said the Jesuit; “this is something
new, sir: I mean the doctrine of mental reservations. ‘A
.bn 199.png
.pn +1
man may swear,’ as Sanchez says in the same place, ‘that he
never did such a thing (though he actually did it), meaning
within himself that he did not do so on a certain day, or before
he was born, or understanding any other such circumstance,
while the words which he employs have no such sense as
would discover his meaning. And this is very convenient in
many cases, and quite innocent, when necessary or conducive
to one’s health, honor, or advantage.’”

“Indeed, father! is that not a lie, and perjury to boot?”

“No,” said the father; “Sanchez and Filiutius prove
that it is not; for, says the latter, ‘it is the intention that
determines the quality of the action.’[197] And he suggests a
still surer method for avoiding falsehood, which is this:
After saying aloud, <em>I swear that I have not done that</em>, to
add, in a low voice, <em>to-day</em>; or after saying aloud, <em>I swear</em>,
to interpose in a whisper, <em>that I say</em>, and then continue
aloud, <em>that I have done that</em>. This, you perceive, is telling
the truth.”[198]

.pm fns 197
Tr. 25, chap. 11, n. 331, 328.
.pm fne

.pm fns 198
The method by which Father Daniel evades this charge is truly
Jesuitical. First, he attempts to involve the question in a cloud of
difficulties, by supposing extreme cases, in which equivocation may be
allowed to preserve life, &c. He has then the assurance to quote
Scripture in defence of the practice, referring to the equivocations of
Abraham which he vindicates; to those of Tobit and the angel Raphael,
which he applauds; and even to the sayings of our blessed Lord,
which he charges with equivocation! (Entretiens, pp. 378, 382.)
Even Bossuet was ashamed of this abominable maxim. “I know nothing”
he says speaking of Sanchez, “more pernicious in morality, than
the opinion of that Jesuit in regard to an oath; he maintains that the
intention is necessary to an oath, without which in giving a false answer
to a judge, when questioned at the bar, one is not capable of perjury.”
(Journal de l’Abbé le Dieu, apud Dissertation sur la foi qui es
due au temoignage de Pascal, &c., p. 50.)
.pm fne

“I grant it,” said I; “it might possibly, however, be
found to be telling the truth in a low key, and falsehood in a
loud one; besides, I should be afraid that many people might
not have sufficient presence of mind to avail themselves of
these methods.”

“Our doctors,” replied the Jesuit, “have taught, in the
same passage, for the benefit of such as might not be expert
in the use of these reservations, that no more is required of
.bn 200.png
.pn +1
them, to avoid lying, than simply to say that <em>they have not
done</em> what they have done, provided ‘they have, in general,
the intention of giving to their language the sense which an
<em>able man</em> would give to it.’ Be candid, now, and confess if
you have not often felt yourself embarrassed, in consequence
of not knowing this?”

“Sometimes,” said I.

“And will you not also acknowledge,” continued he,
“that it would often prove very convenient to be absolved in
conscience from keeping certain engagements one may have
made?”

“The most convenient thing in the world!” I replied.

“Listen, then, to the general rule laid down by Escobar:
‘Promises are not binding, when the person in making them
had no intention to bind himself. Now, it seldom happens
that any have such an intention, unless when they confirm
their promises by an oath or contract; so that when one simply
says, <em>I will do it</em>, he means that he will do it if he does
not change his mind; for he does not wish, by saying that,
to deprive himself of his liberty.’ He gives other rules in
the same strain, which you may consult for yourself, and
tells us, in conclusion, ‘that all this is taken from Molina
and our other authors, and is therefore settled beyond all
doubt.’”

“My dear father,” I observed, “I had no idea that the
direction of the intention possessed the power of rendering
promises null and void.”

“You must perceive,” returned he, “what facility this
affords for prosecuting the business of life. But what has
given us the most trouble has been to regulate the commerce
between the sexes; our fathers being more chary in the matter
of chastity. Not but that they have discussed questions
of a very curious and very indulgent character, particularly
in reference to married and betrothed persons.”

At this stage of the conversation I was made acquainted
with the most extraordinary questions you can well imagine.
He gave me enough of them to fill many letters; but as you
.bn 201.png
.pn +1
show my communications to all sorts of persons, and as I do
not choose to be the vehicle of such reading to those who
would make it the subject of diversion, I must decline even
giving the quotations.

The only thing to which I can venture to allude, out of all
the books which he showed me, and these in French, too, is
a passage which you will find in Father Bauny’s Summary, p.
165, relating to certain little familiarities, which, provided
the intention is well directed, he explains “<em>as passing for
gallant</em>;” and you will be surprised to find, at p. 148, a principle
of morals, as to the power which daughters have to dispose
of their persons without the leave of their relatives,
couched in these terms: “When that is done with the consent
of the daughter, although the father may have reason
to complain, it does not follow that she, or the person to
whom she has sacrificed her honor, has done him any wrong,
or violated the rules of justice in regard to him; for the
daughter has possession of her honor, as well as of her body,
and can do what she pleases with them, bating death or mutilation
of her members.” Judge, from that specimen, of the
rest. It brings to my recollection a passage from a Heathen
poet, a much better casuist, it would appear, than these reverend
doctors; for he says, “that the person of a daughter
does not belong wholly to herself, but partly to her father
and partly to her mother, without whom she cannot dispose
of it, even in marriage.” And I am much mistaken if there
is a single judge in the land who would not lay down as law
the very reverse of this maxim of Father Bauny.

This is all I dare tell you of this part of our conversation,
which lasted so long that I was obliged to beseech the monk
to change the subject. He did so, and proceeded to entertain
me with their regulations about female attire.

“We shall not speak,” he said, “of those who are actuated
by impure intentions; but as to others, Escobar remarks,
that ‘if the woman adorn herself without any evil intention,
but merely to gratify a natural inclination to vanity—<lang=la><i>ob naturalem
fastus inclinationem</i></lang>—this is only a venial sin, or
.bn 202.png
.pn +1
rather no sin at all.’ And Father Bauny maintains, that
‘even though the woman knows the bad effect which her care
in adorning her person may have upon the virtue of those
who may behold her, all decked out in rich and precious
attire, she would not sin in so dressing.’[199] And among others,
he cites our Father Sanchez as being of the same mind.”

.pm fns 199
Esc. tr. 1, ex. 8; Summary of Sins, c. 46, p. 1094.
.pm fne

“But, father, what do your authors say to those passages of
Scripture which so strongly denounce everything of that sort?”

“Lessius has well met that objection,” said the monk, “by
observing, ‘that these passages of Scripture have the force
of precepts only in regard to the women of that period, who
were expected to exhibit, by their modest demeanor, an example
of edification to the Pagans.’”

“And where did he find that, father?”

“It does not matter where he found it,” replied he; “it is
enough to know that the sentiments of these great men are
always probable of themselves. It deserves to be noticed,
however, that Father Le Moine has qualified this general permission;
for he will on no account allow it to be extended to
<em>the old ladies</em>. ‘Youth,’ he observes, ‘is naturally entitled
to adorn itself, nor can the use of ornament be condemned at
an age which is the flower and verdure of life. But there it
should be allowed to remain: it would be strangely out of
season to seek for roses on the snow. The stars alone have
a right to be always dancing, for they have the gift of perpetual
youth. The wisest course in this matter, therefore,
for old women, would be to consult good sense and a good
mirror, to yield to decency and necessity, and to retire at the
first approach of the shades of night.’”[200]

.pm fns 200
“They had their Father Le Moine,” said Cleandre, “and I am surprised
they did not oppose him to Pascal. That father had a lively
imagination and a <em>florid, brilliant</em> style; he stood high among polished
society, and his Apology written against the book entitled ‘The Moral
Theology of the Jesuits,’ was hardly less popular than his <cite>Currycomb
for the Jansenist Pegasus</cite>.” “The Society thought, perhaps,” replied
Eudoxus, “that he could not easily catch the delicate and at the same
time easy style of Pascal. It was Father Le Moine’s failing, to embellish
all he said, to be always aiming at something witty, and never to
speak simply. Perhaps, too, he did not feel himself equal for the combat,
and did not like to commit himself.” (Entretiens de Cleandre et
d’Eudoxe, p. 78.)
.pm fne

“A most judicious advice,” I observed.
.bn 203.png
.pn +1

“But,” continued the monk, “just to show you how careful
our fathers are about everything you can think of, I may
mention that, after granting the ladies permission to gamble,
and foreseeing that, in many cases, this license would be of
little avail unless they had something to gamble with, they
have established another maxim in their favor, which will be
found in Escobar’s chapter on larceny, n. 13: ‘A wife,’ says
he, ‘may gamble, and for this purpose may pilfer money
from her husband.’”

“Well, father, that is capital!”

“There are many other good things besides that,” said the
father; “but we must waive them, and say a little about
those more important maxims, which facilitate the practice of
holy things—the manner of attending mass, for example.
On this subject our great divines, Gaspard Hurtado, and
Coninck, have taught ‘that it is quite sufficient to be present
at mass in body, though we may be absent in spirit, provided
we maintain an outwardly respectful deportment.’ Vasquez
goes a step further, maintaining ‘that one fulfils the precept
of hearing mass, even though one should go with no such
intention at all.’ All this is repeatedly laid down by Escobar,
who, in one passage, illustrates the point by the example
of those who are dragged to mass by force, and who put
on a fixed resolution not to listen to it.”

“Truly, sir,” said I, “had any other person told me that,
I would not have believed it.”

“In good sooth,” he replied, “it requires all the support
which the authority of these great names can lend it; and
so does the following maxim by the same Escobar, ‘that
even a wicked intention, such as that of ogling the women
joined to that of hearing mass rightly, does not hinder a man
from fulfilling the service.’[201] But another very convenient
.bn 204.png
.pn +1
device, suggested by our learned brother Turrian,[202] is, that
‘one may hear the half of a mass from one priest, and the
other half from another; and that it makes no difference
though he should hear first the conclusion of the one, and then
the commencement of the other.’ I might also mention that
it has been decided by several of our doctors, to be lawful
‘to hear the two halves of a mass at the same time, from the
lips of two different priests, one of whom is commencing the
mass, while the other is at the elevation; it being quite possible
to attend to both parties at once, and two halves of a
mass making a whole—<lang=la><i>duœ medietates unam missam constituunt</i></lang>.’[203]
‘From all which,’ says Escobar, ‘I conclude, that
you may hear mass in a very short period of time; if, for
example, you should happen to hear four masses going on at
the same time, so arranged that when the first is at the commencement,
the second is at the gospel, the third at the consecration,
and the last at the communion.’”

.pm fns 201
“<lang=la><i>Nec obest alia prava intentio, ut aspiciendi libidinose fœminas.</i></lang>”
(Esc. tr. 1, ex. 11, n. 31.)
.pm fne

.pm fns 202
Select., p. 2, d. 16, Sub. 7.
.pm fne

.pm fns 203
Bauny, Hurtado, Azor, &c. Escobar, “Practice for Hearing Mass
according to our Society,” Lyons edition.
.pm fne

“Certainly, father, according to that plan, one may hear
mass any day at Notre Dame in a twinkling.”

“Well,” replied he, “that just shows how admirably we
have succeeded in facilitating the hearing of mass. But I
am anxious now to show you how we have softened the use
of the sacraments, and particularly that of penance. It is
here that the benignity of our fathers shines in its truest
splendor; and you will be really astonished to find that devotion,
a thing which the world is so much afraid of, should
have been treated by our doctors with such consummate
skill, that, to use the words of Father Le Moine, in his Devotion
made Easy, ‘demolishing the bugbear which the devil
had placed at its threshold, they have rendered it easier than
vice, and more agreeable than pleasure; so that, in fact,
simply to live is incomparably more irksome than to live well.’
Is that not a marvellous change, now?”

“Indeed, father, I cannot help telling you a bit of my
.bn 205.png
.pn +1
mind: I am sadly afraid that you have overshot the mark,
and that this indulgence of yours will shock more people
than it will attract. The mass, for example, is a thing so
grand and so holy, that, in the eyes of a great many, it
would be enough to blast the credit of your doctors forever,
to show them how you have spoken of it.”

“With a certain class,” replied the monk, “I allow that
may be the case; but do you not know that we accommodate
ourselves to all sorts of persons? You seem to have lost all
recollection of what I have repeatedly told you on this point.
The first time you are at leisure, therefore, I propose that
we make this the theme of our conversation, deferring till
then the lenitives we have introduced into the confessional.
I promise to make you understand it so well that you will
never forget it.”

With these words we parted, so that our next conversation,
I presume, will, turn on the policy of the Society.—I
am, &c.

.tb

<i>P. S.</i>—Since writing the above, I have seen “Paradise
Opened by a Hundred Devotions easily Practised,” by Father
Barry; and also the “Mark of Predestination,” by Father
Binet; both of them pieces well worth the seeing.

.fm lz=t

.bn 206.png
.pn +1

.sp 4
.h2
LETTER X.

.fs 80%
.in +3
.ti -3
PALLIATIVES APPLIED BY THE JESUITS TO THE SACRAMENT OF
PENANCE, IN THEIR MAXIMS REGARDING CONFESSION, SATISFACTION,
ABSOLUTION, PROXIMATE OCCASIONS OF SIN, CONTRITION,
AND THE LOVE OF GOD.
.in
.fs

.sp 2

.rj
<sc>Paris</sc>, <i>August 2, 1656</i>.

<sc>Sir</sc>,—I have not come yet to the policy of the Society,
but shall first introduce you to one of its leading principles.
I refer to the palliatives which they have applied to confession,
and which are unquestionably the best of all the
schemes they have fallen upon to “attract all and repel
none.” It is absolutely necessary to know something of this
before going any further; and, accordingly, the monk judged
it expedient to give me some instructions on the point, nearly
as follows:—

“From what I have already stated,” he observed, “you
may judge of the success with which our doctors have labored
to discover, in their wisdom, that a great many things,
formerly regarded as forbidden, are innocent and allowable;
but as there are some sins for which one can find no excuse,
and for which there is no remedy but confession, it became
necessary to alleviate, by the methods I am now going to
mention, the difficulties attending that practice. Thus, having
shown you, in our previous conversations, how we relieve
people from troublesome scruples of conscience, by showing
them that what they believed to be sinful was indeed quite
innocent, I proceed now to illustrate our convenient plan for
expiating what is really sinful, which is effected by making
confession as easy a process as it was formerly a painful one.”

“And how do you manage that, father?”

“Why,” said he, “it is by those admirable subtleties
.bn 207.png
.pn +1
which are peculiar to our Company, and have been styled by
our fathers in Flanders, in “The Image of the First Century,”[204]
‘the pious finesse, the holy artifice of devotion—<lang=la><i>piam
et religiosam calliditatem, et pietatis solertiam</i></lang>.’[205] By
the aid of these inventions, as they remark in the same place,
‘crimes may be expiated now-a-days <lang=la><i>alacrius</i></lang>—with more
zeal and alacrity than they were committed in former days,
and a great many people may be washed from their stains
almost as cleverly as they contracted them—<lang=la><i>plurimi vix citius
maculas contrahunt quam eluunt</i></lang>.’”

.pm fns 204
See before, #p. 116:Page_116#.
.pm fne

.pm fns 205
<cite>Imago Primi Seculi</cite>, l. iii., c. 8.
.pm fne

“Pray, then, father, do teach me some of these most salutary
lessons of <em>finesse</em>.”

“We have a good number of them,” answered the monk;
“for there are a great many irksome things about confession,
and for each of these we have devised a palliative. The
chief difficulties connected with this ordinance are the shame
of confessing certain sins, the trouble of specifying the circumstances
of others, the penance exacted for them, the
resolution against relapsing into them, the avoidance of the
proximate occasions of sins, and the regret for having committed
them. I hope to convince you to-day, that it is now
possible to get over all this with hardly any trouble at all;
such is the care we have taken to allay the bitterness and
nauseousness of this very necessary medicine. For, to begin
with the difficulty of confessing certain sins, you are aware
it is of importance often to keep in the good graces of one’s
confessor; now, must it not be extremely convenient to be
permitted, as you are by our doctors, particularly Escobar
and Suarez, ‘to have two confessors, one for the mortal sins
and another for the venial, in order to maintain a fair character
with your ordinary confessor—<lang=la><i>uti bonam famam apud
ordinarium tueatur</i></lang>—provided you do not take occasion from
thence to indulge in mortal sin?’ This is followed by another
ingenious contrivance for confessing a sin, even to the
ordinary confessor, without his perceiving that it was committed
since the last confession, which is, ‘to make a general
.bn 208.png
.pn +1
confession, and huddle this last sin in a lump among the rest
which we confess.’[206] And I am sure you will own that the
following decision of Father Bauny goes far to alleviate the
shame which one must feel in confessing his relapses, namely,
‘that, except in certain cases, which rarely occur, the confessor
is not entitled to ask his penitent if the sin of which
he accuses himself is an habitual one, nor is the latter obliged
to answer such a question; because the confessor has no
right to subject his penitent to the shame of disclosing his
frequent relapses.’”

.pm fns 206
Esc. tr. 7, a. 4, n. 135; also, Princ., ex. 2, n. 73.
.pm fne

“Indeed, father! I might as well say that a physician has
no right to ask his patient if it is long since he had the fever.
Do not sins assume quite a different aspect according to circumstances?
and should it not be the object of a genuine
penitent to discover the whole state of his conscience to his
confessor, with the same sincerity and openheartedness as if
he were speaking to Jesus Christ himself, whose place the
priest occupies? If so, how far is he from realizing such a
disposition, who, by concealing the frequency of his relapses,
conceals the aggravations of his offence!”[207]

.pm fns 207
The practice of auricular confession was about three hundred years
old before the Reformation, having remained undetermined till the year
1150 after Christ. The early fathers were, beyond all question, decidedly
opposed to it. Chrysostom reasons very differently from the text.
“But thou art ashamed to say that thou hast sinned? Confess thy faults,
then, daily in thy prayer; for do I say, ‘Confess them to thy fellow-servant
who may reproach thee therewith?’ No; confess them to God
who healeth them.” (In Ps. l. hom. 2.) And to whom did Augustine
make his <em>Confessions</em>? Was it not to the same Being to whom David
in the Psalms and the publican in the Gospel, made theirs? “What
have I to do with men,” says this father, “that they should hear my
confessions, as if they were to heal all my diseases!” (Confes., lib. x.,
p. 3.)
.pm fne

I saw that this puzzled the worthy monk, for he attempted
to elude rather than resolve the difficulty, by turning my attention
to another of their rules, which only goes to establish
a fresh abuse, instead of justifying in the least the decision
of Father Bauny; a decision which, in my opinion, is
one of the most pernicious of their maxims, and calculated
to encourage profligate men to continue in their evil habits.
.bn 209.png
.pn +1

“I grant you,” replied the father, “that habit aggravates
the malignity of a sin, but it does not alter its nature; and
that is the reason why we do not insist on people confessing
it, according to the rule laid down by our fathers, and quoted
by Escobar, ‘that one is only obliged to confess the circumstances
that alter the species of the sin, and not those that
aggravate it.’ Proceeding on this rule, Father Granados
says, ‘that if one has eaten flesh in Lent, all he needs to do
is to confess that he has broken the fast, without specifying
whether it was by eating flesh, or by taking two fish meals.’
And, according to Reginald, ‘a sorcerer who has employed
the diabolical art is not obliged to reveal that circumstance;
it is enough to say that he has dealt in magic, without expressing
whether it was by palmistry or by a paction with
the devil.’ Fagundez, again, has decided that ‘rape is not a
circumstance which one is bound to reveal, if the woman give
her consent.’ All this is quoted by Escobar,[208] with many
other very curious decisions as to these circumstances, which
you may consult at your leisure.”

.pm fns 208
Princ., ex. 2. n. 39, 41, 61, 62.
.pm fne

“These ‘artifices of devotion’ are vastly convenient in
their way,” I observed.

“And yet,” said the father, “notwithstanding all that,
they would go for nothing, sir, unless we had proceeded to
mollify penance, which, more than anything else, deters people
from confession. Now, however, the most squeamish
have nothing to dread from it, after what we have advanced
in our theses of the College of Clermont, where we hold that
‘if the confessor imposes a suitable penance, and the penitent
be unwilling to submit himself to it, the latter may go
home, waiving both the penance and the absolution.’ Or, as
Escobar says, in giving the Practice of our Society, ‘if the
penitent declare his willingness to have his penance remitted
to the next world, and to suffer in purgatory all the pains
due to him, the confessor may, for the honor of the sacrament,
impose a very light penance on him, particularly if he
.bn 210.png
.pn +1
has reason to believe that his penitent would object to a
heavier one.’”

“I really think,” said I, “that, if that is the case, we
ought no longer to call confession the sacrament of penance.”

“You are wrong,” he replied; “for we always administer
something in the way of penance, for the form’s sake.”

“But, father, do you suppose that a man is worthy of receiving
absolution, when he will submit to nothing painful to
expiate his offences? And, in these circumstances, ought
you not to retain rather than remit their sins? Are you not
aware of the extent of your ministry, and that you have the
power of binding and loosing? Do you imagine that you
are at liberty to give absolution indifferently to all who ask
it, and without ascertaining beforehand if Jesus Christ looses
in heaven those whom you loose on earth?”[209]

.pm fns 209
John xx. 23: “Receive ye the Holy Ghost: Whose soever sins ye
remit, they are remitted unto them; and whose soever sins ye retain,
they are retained.” All the ancient fathers, such as Basil, Ambrose,
Augustine, and Chrysostom, explain this remission of sins as the work
of the Holy Ghost, and not of the apostles except ministerially, in the
use of the spiritual keys of doctrine and discipline, of intercessary prayer
and of the sacraments. (Ussher’s Jesuits’ Challenge, p. 122 &c.) Even
the schoolmen held that the power of binding and loosing committed to
the ministers of the Church is not absolute, but must be limited by <lang=la><i>clave
non errante</i></lang>, or when no error is committed in the use of the keys.
.pm fne

“What!” cried the father, “do you suppose that we do
not know that ‘the confessor (as one remarks) ought to sit in
judgment on the disposition of his penitent, both because he
is bound not to dispense the sacraments to the unworthy,
Jesus Christ having enjoined him to be a faithful steward,
and not give that which is holy unto dogs; and because he
is a judge, and it is the duty of a judge to give righteous
judgment, by loosing the worthy and binding the unworthy,
and he ought not to absolve those whom Jesus Christ condemns.’”

“Whose words are these, father?”

“They are the words of our father Filiutius,” he replied.

“You astonish me,” said I; “I took them to be a quotation
from one of the fathers of the Church. At all events,
.bn 211.png
.pn +1
sir, that passage ought to make an impression on the confessors,
and render them very circumspect in the dispensation of
this sacrament, to ascertain whether the regret of their penitents
is sufficient, and whether their promises of future
amendment are worthy of credit.”

“That is not such a difficult matter,” replied the father;
“Filiutius had more sense than to leave confessors in that
dilemma, and accordingly he suggests an easy way of getting
out of it, in the words immediately following: ‘The confessor
may easily set his mind at rest as to the disposition of his
penitent; for, if he fail to give sufficient evidence of sorrow,
the confessor has only to ask him if he does not detest the
sin in his heart, and if he answers that he does, he is bound
to believe it. The same thing may be said of resolutions as
to the future, unless the case involves an obligation to restitution,
or to avoid some proximate occasion of sin.’”

“As to that passage, father, I can easily believe that it is
Filiutius’ own.”

“You are mistaken though,” said the father, “for he has
extracted it, word for word, from Suarez.”[210]

.pm fns 210
In 3 part, t. 4, disp. 32, sect. 2, n. 2.
.pm fne

“But, father, that last passage from Filiutius overturns
what he had laid down in the former. For confessors can
no longer be said to sit as judges on the disposition of their
penitents, if they are bound to take it simply upon their
word, in the absence of all satisfying signs of contrition. Are
the professions made on such occasions so infallible, that no
other sign is needed? I question much if experience has
taught your fathers, that all who make fair promises are remarkable
for keeping them; I am mistaken if they have not
often found the reverse.”

“No matter,” replied the monk; “confessors are bound to
believe them for all that; for Father Bauny, who has probed
this question to the bottom, has concluded ‘that at whatever
time those who have fallen into frequent relapses, without
giving evidence of amendment, present themselves before a
confessor, expressing their regret for the past, and a good
.bn 212.png
.pn +1
purpose for the future, he is bound to believe them on their
simple averment, although there may be reason to presume
that such resolution only came from the teeth outwards.
Nay,’ says he, ‘though they should indulge subsequently to
greater excess than ever in the same delinquencies, still, in
my opinion, they may receive absolution.’[211] There now!
that, I am sure, should silence you.”

.pm fns 211
Summary of Sins, c. 46, p. 1090, 1, 2.
.pm fne

“But, father,” said I, “you impose a great hardship, I
think, on the confessors, by thus obliging them to believe the
very reverse of what they see.”

“You don’t understand it,” returned he; “all that is
meant is, that they are obliged to act and absolve <em>as if</em> they
believed that their penitents would be true to their engagements,
though, in point of fact, they believe no such thing.
This is explained, immediately afterwards, by Suarez and Filiutius.
After having said that ‘the priest is bound to believe
the penitent on his word,’ they add, ‘It is not necessary that
the confessor should be convinced that the good resolution
of his penitent will be carried into effect, nor even that he
should judge it probable; it is enough that he thinks the
person has at the time the design in general, though he may
very shortly after relapse. Such is the doctrine of all our
authors—<lang=la><i>ita docent omnes autores</i></lang>.’ Will you presume to
doubt what has been taught by our authors?”

“But, sir, what then becomes of what Father Petau[212] himself
is obliged to own, in the preface to his Public Penance,
‘that the holy fathers, doctors, and councils of the Church
.bn 213.png
.pn +1
agree in holding it as a settled point, that the penance preparatory
to the eucharist must be genuine, constant, resolute,
and not languid and sluggish, or subject to after-thoughts
and relapses?’”

.pm fns 212
Denis Petau (Dionysius Petavius) a learned Jesuit, was born at
Orleans in 1593, and died in 1652. The catalogue of his works alone
would fill a volume. He wrote in elegant Latin, on all subjects, grammar,
history, chronology, &c., as well as theology. Perrault informs us
that he had an incredible ardor for the conversion of heretics, and had
almost succeeded in converting the celebrated Grotius—a very unlikely
story. (Les Hommes Illustres, p. 19.) His book on Public Penance
(Paris, 1644) was intended as a refutation of Arnauld’s “Frequent
Communion;” but is said to have been ill-written and unsuccessful.
Though he professed the theology of his order, he is said to have had a
kind of predilection for austere opinions, being naturally of a melancholy
temper. When invited by the pope to visit Rome, he replied, “I
am too old to <lang=la><i>flit</i></lang>”—<lang=fr><i>demenager</i></lang>. (Dict. Univ., art. <cite>Petau</cite>.)
.pm fne

“Don’t you observe,” replied the monk, “that Father Petau
is speaking of the <em>ancient Church</em>? But all that is now
<em>so little in season</em>, to use a common saying of our doctors,
that, according to Father Bauny, the reverse is the only true
view of the matter. ‘There are some,’ says he, ‘who maintain
that absolution ought to be refused to those who fall frequently
into the same sins, more especially if, after being often
absolved, they evince no signs of amendment; and others
hold the opposite view. But the only true opinion is, that
they ought not to be refused absolution; and though they
should be nothing the better of all the advice given them,
though they should have broken all their promises to lead
new lives, and been at no trouble to purify themselves, still it
is of no consequence; whatever may be said to the contrary,
the true opinion which ought to be followed is, that even in
all these cases, they ought to be absolved.’ And again:
‘Absolution ought neither to be denied nor delayed in the
case of those who live in habitual sins against the law of God,
of nature, and of the Church, although there should be no
apparent prospect of future amendment—<lang=la><i>etsi emendationis
futuræ nulla spes appareat</i></lang>.’”

“But, father, this certainty of always getting absolution
may induce sinners—”

“I know what you mean,” interrupted the Jesuit: “but
listen to Father Bauny, q. 15: ‘Absolution may be given even
to him who candidly avows that the hope of being absolved
induced him to sin with more freedom than he would otherwise
have done.’ And Father Caussin, defending this proposition,
says, ‘that were this not true, confession would be
interdicted to the greater part of mankind; and the only resource
left for poor sinners would be a branch and a rope!’”[213]

.pm fns 213
Reply to the Moral Theol., p. 211.
.pm fne
.bn 214.png
.pn +1

“O father, how these maxims of yours will draw people
to your confessionals!”

“Yes,” he replied, “you would hardly believe what numbers
are in the habit of frequenting them; ‘we are absolutely
oppressed and overwhelmed, so to speak, under the crowd
of our penitents—<lang=la><i>penitentium numero obruimur</i></lang>’—as is said
in ‘The Image of the First Century.’”

“I could suggest a very simple method,” said I, “to escape
from this inconvenient pressure. You have only to
oblige sinners to avoid the proximate occasions of sin; that
single expedient would afford you relief at once.”

“We have no wish for such a relief,” rejoined the monk;
“quite the reverse; for, as is observed in the same book, ‘the
great end of our Society is to labor to establish the virtues,
to wage war on the vices, and to save a great number of
souls.’ Now, as there are very few souls inclined to quit the
proximate occasions of sin, we have been obliged to define
what a proximate occasion is. ‘That cannot be called a proximate
occasion,’ says Escobar, ‘where one sins but rarely, or
on a sudden transport—say three or four times a year;’[214] or,
as Father Bauny has it, ‘once or twice in a month.’[215] Again,
asks this author, ‘what is to be done in the case of masters
and servants, or cousins, who, living under the same roof, are
by this occasion tempted to sin?’”

.pm fns 214
Esc., Practice of the Society, tr. 7, ex. 4, n. 226.
.pm fne

.pm fns 215
P. 1082, 1089
.pm fne

“They ought to be separated,” said I.

“That is what he says, too, ‘if their relapses be very frequent:
but if the parties offend rarely, and cannot be separated
without trouble and loss, they may, according to Suarez
and other authors, be absolved, provided they promise to
sin no more, and are truly sorry for what is past.’”

This required no explanation, for he had already informed
me with what sort of evidence of contrition the confessor was
bound to rest satisfied.

“And Father Bauny,” continued the monk, “permits
those who are involved in the proximate occasions of sin, ‘to
remain as they are, when they cannot avoid them without
.bn 215.png
.pn +1
becoming the common talk of the world, or subjecting themselves
to inconvenience.’ ‘A priest,’ he remarks in another
work, ‘may and ought to absolve a woman who is guilty of
living with a paramour, if she cannot put him away honorably,
or has some reason for keeping him—<lang=la><i>si non potest honeste
ejicere, aut habeat aliquam causam retinendi</i></lang>—provided she
promises to act more virtuously for the future.’”[216]

.pm fns 216
Theol. Mor., tr. 4, De Pœnit., q. 13 pp. 93, 94.
.pm fne

“Well, father,” cried I, “you have certainly succeeded in
relaxing the obligation of avoiding the occasions of sin to a
very comfortable extent, by dispensing with the duty as soon
as it becomes inconvenient; but I should think your fathers
will at least allow it to be binding when there is no difficulty
in the way of its performance?”

“Yes,” said the father, “though even then the rule is not
without exceptions. For Father Bauny says, in the same
place, ‘that any one may frequent profligate houses, with the
view of converting their unfortunate inmates, though the
probability should be that he fall into sin, having often experienced
before that he has yielded to their fascinations. Some
doctors do not approve of this opinion, and hold that no man
may voluntarily put his salvation in peril to succor his neighbor;
yet I decidedly embrace the opinion which they controvert.’”

“A novel sort of preachers these, father! But where does
Father Bauny find any ground for investing them with such
a mission?”

“It is upon one of his own principles,” he replied, “which
he announces in the same place after Basil Ponce. I mentioned
it to you before, and I presume you have not forgotten
it. It is, ‘that one may seek an occasion of sin, directly and
expressly—<lang=la><i>primo et per se</i></lang>—to promote the temporal or spiritual
good of himself or his neighbor.’”

On hearing these passages, I felt so horrified that I was on
the point of breaking out; but, being resolved to hear him
to an end, I restrained myself, and merely inquired: “How,
father, does this doctrine comport with that of the Gospel,
.bn 216.png
.pn +1
which binds us to ‘pluck out the right eye,’ and ‘cut off the
right hand,’ when they ‘offend,’ or prove prejudicial to salvation?
And how can you suppose that the man who wilfully
indulges in the occasions of sins, sincerely hates sin? Is it
not evident, on the contrary, that he has never been properly
touched with a sense of it, and that he has not yet experienced
that genuine conversion of heart, which makes a man love
God as much as he formerly loved the creature?”

“Indeed!” cried he, “do you call that genuine contrition?
It seems you do not know that, as Father Pintereau[217] says,
‘all our fathers teach, with one accord, that it is an error, and
almost a heresy, to hold that <em>contrition</em> is necessary; or that
<em>attrition</em> alone, induced by the <em>sole</em> motive, the fear of the
pains of hell, which excludes a disposition to offend, is not
sufficient with the sacrament?’”[218]

.pm fns 217
The work ascribed to Pintereau was entitled, “Les Impostures et
les Ignorances du Libelle intituló la Theologie Morale des Jesuites: par
l’Abbè du Boisic.”
.pm fne

.pm fns 218
That is, the sacrament of penance, as it is called. “That contrition
is at all times necessarily required for obtaining remission of sins
and justification, is a matter determined by the fathers of Trent. But
mark yet the mystery. They equivocate with us in the term <em>contrition</em>,
and make a distinction thereof into perfect and imperfect. The former
of these is <em>contrition</em> properly; the latter they call <em>attrition</em>, which howsoever
in itself it be no true contrition, yet when the priest, with his
power of forgiving sins, interposes himself in the business, they tell us
that attrition, by virtue of the keys, is made contrition: that is to say,
that a sorrow arising from a servile fear of punishment, and such a fruitless
repentance as the reprobate may carry with them to hell, by virtue
of the priest’s absolution, is made so fruitful that it shall serve the turn
for obtaining forgiveness of sins, as if it had been that godly sorrow
which worketh repentance to salvation not to be repented of. By which
spiritual cozenage many poor souls are most miserably deluded.” (Ussher’s
Tracts, p. 153.)
.pm fne

“What, father! do you mean to say that it is almost an
article of faith, that attrition, induced merely by fear of punishment,
is sufficient with the sacrament? That idea, I think,
is peculiar to your fathers; for those other doctors who hold
that attrition is sufficient along with the sacrament, always
take care to show that it must be accompanied with some
love to God at least. It appears to me, moreover, that even
your own authors did not always consider this doctrine of
yours so certain. Your Father Suarez, for instance, speaks
.bn 217.png
.pn +1
of it thus: ‘Although it is a probable opinion that attrition
is sufficient with the sacrament, yet it is not certain, and it
may be false—<lang=la><i>non est certa, et potest esse falsa</i></lang>. And if it is
false, attrition is not sufficient to save a man; and he that
dies knowingly in this state, wilfully exposes himself to the
grave peril of eternal damnation. For this opinion is neither
very ancient nor very common—<lang=la><i>nec valde antiqua, nec multum
communis</i></lang>.’ Sanchez was not more prepared to hold it as
infallible, when he said in his Summary, that ‘the sick man
and his confessor, who content themselves at the hour of
death with attrition and the sacrament, are both chargeable
with mortal sin, on account of the great risk of damnation
to which the penitent would be exposed, if the opinion that
attrition is sufficient with the sacrament should not turn out
to be true.’ Comitolus, too, says that ‘we should not be too
sure that attrition suffices with the sacrament.’”[219]

.pm fns 219
These quotations, carefully marked in the original, afford a sufficient
answer to Father Daniel’s long argument, which consists chiefly
of citations from Jesuit writers who hold the views above given.
.pm fne

Here the worthy father interrupted me. “What!” he
cried, “you read our authors then, it seems? That is all
very well; but it would be still better were you never to
read them without the precaution of having one of <em>us</em> beside
you. Do you not see, now, that, from having read them
alone, you have concluded, in your simplicity, that these passages
bear hard on those who have more lately supported our
doctrine of attrition? whereas it might be shown that nothing
could set them off to greater advantage. Only think what a
triumph it is for our fathers of the present day to have succeeded
in disseminating their opinion in such short time, and
to such an extent that, with the exception of theologians, nobody
almost would ever suppose but that our modern views
on this subject had been the uniform belief of the faithful in
all ages! So that, in fact, when you have shown, from our
fathers themselves, that, a few years ago, ‘this opinion was
not certain,’ you have only succeeded in giving our modern
authors the whole merit of its establishment!
.bn 218.png
.pn +1

“Accordingly,” he continued, “our cordial friend Diana,
to gratify us, no doubt, has recounted the various steps by
which the opinion reached its present position.[220] ‘In former
days, the ancient schoolmen maintained that contrition was
necessary as soon as one had committed a mortal sin; since
then, however, it has been thought that it is not binding except
on festival days; afterwards, only when some great
calamity threatened the people: others, again, that it ought
not to be long delayed at the approach of death. But our
fathers, Hurtado and Vasquez, have ably refuted all these
opinions, and established that one is not bound to contrition
unless he cannot be absolved in any other way, or at the
point of death!’ But, to continue the wonderful progress
of this doctrine, I might add, what our fathers, Fagundez,
Granados, and Escobar, have decided, ‘that contrition is not
necessary even at death; because,’ say they, ‘if attrition
with the sacrament did not suffice at death, it would follow
that attrition would not be sufficient with the sacrament.’
And the learned Hurtado, cited by Diana and Escobar, goes
still further; for he asks, ‘Is that sorrow for sin which flows
solely from apprehension of its temporal consequences, such
as having lost health or money, sufficient? We must distinguish.
If the evil is not regarded as sent by the hand of
God, such a sorrow does not suffice; but if the evil is viewed
as sent by God, as, in fact, all evil, says Diana, except sin,
comes from him, that kind of sorrow is sufficient.’[221] Our
Father Lamy holds the same doctrine.”[222]

.pm fns 220
It may be remembered that Diana, though not a Jesuit, was claimed
by the Society as a favorer of their casuists. This writer was once held
in such high repute, that he was consulted by people from all parts of
the world as a perfect oracle in cases of conscience. He is now forgotten.
His style, like that of most of these scholastics, is described as
“insipid, stingy, and crawling.” (Biogr. Univ., Anc. et Mod.)
.pm fne

.pm fns 221
Esc. Pratique de notre Société, tr. 7, ex. 4, n. 91.
.pm fne

.pm fns 222
Tr. 8, disp. 3, n. 13.
.pm fne

“You surprise me, father; for I see nothing in all that
attrition of which you speak but what is natural; and in this
way a sinner may render himself worthy of absolution without
.bn 219.png
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supernatural grace at all. Now everybody knows that this
is a heresy condemned by the Council.”[223]

.pm fns 223
Of Trent. Nicole attempts to prove that the “imperfect contrition”
of this Council includes the love of God, and that they condemned as
heretical the opinion, that “any could prepare himself for grace without
a movement of the Holy Spirit.” He is more successful in showing
that the Jesuits were heretical when judged by Augustine and the Holy
Scriptures. (Note 2, sur la x. Lettre.)
.pm fne

“I should have thought with you,” he replied; “and yet
it seems this must not be the case, for the fathers of our College
of Clermont have maintained (in their Theses of the 23rd
May and 6th June 1644) ‘that attrition may be holy and
sufficient for the sacrament, although it may not be supernatural:’
and (in that of August 1643) ‘that attrition, though
merely natural, is sufficient for the sacrament, provided it is
honest.’ I do not see what more could be said on the subject,
unless we choose to subjoin an inference, which may be
easily drawn from these principles, namely, that contrition, so
far from being necessary to the sacrament, is rather prejudicial
to it, inasmuch as, by washing away sins of itself, it
would leave nothing for the sacrament to do at all. That is,
indeed, exactly what the celebrated Jesuit Father Valencia
remarks. (Tom. iv., disp. 7, q. 8, p. 4.) ‘Contrition,’ says
he, ‘is by no means necessary in order to obtain the principal
benefit of the sacrament; on the contrary, it is rather an
obstacle in the way of it—<lang=la><i>imo obstat potius quominus effectus
sequatur</i></lang>.’ Nobody could well desire more to be said in
commendation of attrition.”[224]

.pm fns 224
The Jesuits are so fond of their “attrition,” or purely natural repentance,
that one of their own theologians (Cardinal Francis Tolet)
having condemned it they falsified the passage in a subsequent edition,
making him speak the opposite sentiment. The forgery was exposed;
but the worthy fathers, according to custom, allowed it to pass without
notice, <lang=la><i>ad majorem Dei gloriam</i></lang>. (Nicole, iii. 95.)
.pm fne

“I believe that, father,” said I; “but you must allow me to
tell you my opinion, and to show you to what a dreadful
length this doctrine leads. When you say that ‘attrition,
induced by the mere dread of punishment,’ is sufficient, with
the sacrament, to justify sinners, does it not follow that a
person may always expiate his sins in this way, and thus be
.bn 220.png
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saved without ever having loved God all his lifetime? Would
your fathers venture to hold that?”

“I perceive,” replied the monk, “from the strain of your
remarks, that you need some information on the doctrine of
our fathers regarding the love of God. This is the last feature
of their morality, and the most important of all. You
must have learned something of it from the passages about
contrition which I have quoted to you. But here are others
still more definite on the point of love to God—Don’t interrupt
me, now; for it is of importance to notice the connection.
Attend to Escobar, who reports the different opinions of our
authors, in his ‘Practice of the Love of God according to
our Society.’ The question is: ‘When is one obliged to
have an actual affection for God?’ Suarez says, it is enough
if one loves him before being <lang=la><i>articulo mortis</i></lang>—at the point
of death—without determining the exact time. Vasquez,
that it is sufficient even at the very point of death. Others,
when one has received baptism. Others, again, when one is
bound to exercise contrition. And others, on festival days.
But our father, Castro Palao, combats all these opinions, and
with good reason—<lang=la><i>merito</i></lang>. Hurtado de Mendoza insists that
we are obliged to love God once a-year; and that we ought
to regard it as a great favor that we are not bound to do it
oftener. But our Father Coninck thinks that we are bound
to it only once in three or four years; Henriquez, once in
five years; and Filiutius says that it is <em>probable</em> that we are
not strictly bound to it even once in five years. How often,
then, do you ask? Why, he refers it to the judgment of the
judicious.”

I took no notice of all this badinage, in which the ingenuity
of man seems to be sporting, in the height of insolence,
with the love of God.

“But,” pursued the monk, “our Father Antony Sirmond
surpasses all on this point, in his admirable book, ‘The Defence
of Virtue,’[225] where, as he tells the reader, ‘he speaks
French in France,’ as follows: ‘St. Thomas says that we
.bn 221.png
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are obliged to love God as soon as we come to the use of
reason: that is rather too soon! Scotus says, every Sunday:
pray, for what reason? Others say, when we are sorely
tempted: yes, if there be no other way of escaping the
temptation. Scotus says, when we have received a benefit
from God: good, in the way of thanking him for it. Others
say, at death: rather late! As little do I think it binding
at the reception of any sacrament: attrition in such cases is
quite enough, along with confession, if convenient. Suarez
says that it is binding at some time or another; but at what
time?—he leaves you to judge of that for yourself—he does
not know; and what that doctor did not know I know not
who should know.’ In short, he concludes that we are not
strictly bound to more than to keep the other commandments,
without any affection for God, and without giving him our
hearts, provided that we do not hate him. To prove this is
the sole object of his second treatise. You will find it in
every page; more especially where he says: ‘God, in commanding
us to love him, is satisfied with our obeying him in
his other commandments. If God had said, Whatever obedience
thou yieldest me, if thy heart is not given to me, I will
destroy thee!—would such a motive, think you, be well fitted
to promote the end which God must, and only can, have
in view? Hence it is said that we shall love God by doing
his will, <em>as if</em> we loved him with affection, as if the motive in
this case was real charity. If that is really our motive, so
much the better; if not, still we are strictly fulfilling the
commandment of love, by having its works, so that (such is
the goodness of God!) we are commanded, not so much to
love him, as not to hate him.’

.pm fns 225
Tr. 1, ex. 2, n. 21; and tr. 5, ex. 4, n. 8.
.pm fne

“Such is the way in which our doctors have discharged
men from the ‘painful’ obligation of actually loving God.
And this doctrine is so advantageous, that our Fathers Annat,
Pintereau, Le Moine, and Antony Sirmond himself,
have strenuously defended it when it has been attacked. You
have only to consult their answers to the ‘Moral Theology.’
That of Father Pintereau, in particular, will enable you to
.bn 222.png
.pn +1
form some idea of the value of this dispensation, from the
price which he tells us that it cost, which is no less than the
blood of Jesus Christ. This crowns the whole. It appears,
that this dispensation from the ‘painful’ obligation to love
God, is the privilege of the Evangelical law, in opposition to
the Judaical. ‘It was reasonable,’ he says, ‘that, under the
law of grace in the New Testament, God should relieve us
from that troublesome and arduous obligation which existed
under the law of bondage, to exercise an act of perfect contrition,
in order to be justified; and that the place of this
should be supplied by the sacraments, instituted in aid of an
easier disposition. Otherwise, indeed, Christians, who are
the children, would have no greater facility in gaining the
good graces of their Father than the Jews, who were the
slaves, had in obtaining the mercy of their Lord and
Master.’”[226]

.pm fns 226
Shocking as these principles are, it might be easy to show that they
necessarily flow from the Romish doctrine, which substitutes the imperfect
obedience of the sinner as the meritorious ground of justification, in
the room of the all-perfect obedience and oblation of the Son of God,
which renders it necessary to lower the divine standard of duty. The
attempt of Father Daniel to escape from the serious charge in the text
under a cloud of metaphysical distinctions about <em>affective</em> and <em>effective</em>
love, is about as lame as the argument he draws from the merciful
character of the Gospel, is dishonorable to the Saviour, who “came not
to destroy the law and the prophets but to fulfil.” But this “confusion
worse confounded” arises from putting love to God out of its proper
place and representing it as the price of our pardon instead of the fruit
of faith in pardoning mercy. Arnauld was as far wrong on this point
as the Jesuits; and it is astonishing that he did not discover in their
system the radical error of his own creed carried out to its proper consequences.
(Reponse Gen. au Livre de M. Arnauld, par Elie Merlat,
p. 30.)
.pm fne

“O father!” cried I; “no patience can stand this any
longer. It is impossible to listen without horror to the sentiments
you have now been sporting.”

“They are not my sentiments,” said the monk.

“I grant it, sir,” said I; “but you feel no aversion to
them; and, so far from detesting the authors of these maxims,
you hold them in esteem. Are you not afraid that your
consent may involve you in a participation of their guilt?
and are you not aware that St. Paul judges worthy of death,
.bn 223.png
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not only the authors of evil things, but also ‘those who have
pleasure in them that do them?’ Was it not enough to
have permitted men to indulge in so many forbidden things,
under the covert of your palliations? Was it necessary to
go still further, and hold out a bribe to them to commit even
those crimes which you found it impossible to excuse, by
offering them an easy and certain absolution; and for this
purpose nullifying the power of the priests, and obliging
them, more as slaves than as judges, to absolve the most inveterate
sinners—without any amendment of life—without
any sign of contrition except promises a hundred times broken—without
penance ‘unless they choose to accept of it’—and
without abandoning the occasions of their vices, ‘if they
should thereby be put to any inconvenience?’

“But your doctors have gone even beyond this; and the
license which they have assumed to tamper with the most
holy rules of Christian conduct amount to a total subversion
of the law of God. They violate ‘the great commandment
on which hang all the law and the prophets;’ they strike at
the very heart of piety; they rob it of the spirit that giveth
life; they hold that to love God is not necessary to salvation;
and go so far as to maintain that ‘this dispensation
from loving God is the privilege which Jesus Christ has introduced
into the world!’ This, sir, is the very climax of
impiety. The price of the blood of Jesus Christ paid to
obtain us a dispensation from loving him! Before the incarnation,
it seems men were obliged to love God: but since
‘God has so loved the world as to give his only-begotten
Son,’ the world, redeemed by him, is released from loving
him! Strange divinity of our days—to dare to take off the
‘anathema’ which St. Paul denounces on those ‘that love
not the Lord Jesus!’ To cancel the sentence of St. John:
‘He that loveth not, abideth in death!’ and that of Jesus
Christ himself: ‘He that loveth me not keepeth not my precepts!’
and thus to render those worthy of enjoying God
through eternity who never loved God all their life![227] Behold
.bn 224.png
.pn +1
the Mystery of Iniquity fulfilled! Open your eyes at
length, my dear father, and if the other aberrations of your
casuists have made no impression on you, let these last,
by their very extravagance, compel you to abandon them.
This is what I desire from the bottom of my heart, for your
own sake and for the sake of your doctors; and my prayer
to God is, that he would vouchsafe to convince them how
false the light must be that has guided them to such precipices;
and that he would fill their hearts with that love of
himself from which they have dared to give man a dispensation!”

.pm fns 227
“Nothing on this point,” says Nicole in a note here, “can be finer
than the prosopopeia in which Despréaux (Boileau) introduces God as
judging mankind.” He then quotes a long passage from the Twelfth
Epistle of that poet, beginning—

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.ce
“Quand Dieu viendra juger les vivans et les morts,” &c.
.ll
.in

Boileau was the personal friend of Arnauld and Pascal, and satirized
the Jesuits with such pleasant irony that Father la Chaise, the confessor
of Louis XIV., though himself a Jesuit, is said to have taken a pleasure
in repeating his verses.
.pm fne

After some remarks of this nature, I took my leave of the
monk, and I see no great likelihood of my repeating my
visits to him. This, however, need not occasion you any
regret; for, should it be necessary to continue these communications
on their maxims, I have studied their books sufficiently
to tell you as much of their morality, and more,
perhaps, of their policy, than he could have done himself.—I
am, &c.

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.sp 4
.h2
LETTER XI.

.ce
TO THE REVEREND FATHERS, THE JESUITS.[228]

.fs 80%
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.ti -3
RIDICULE A FAIR WEAPON WHEN EMPLOYED AGAINST ABSURD OPINIONS—RULES
TO BE OBSERVED IN THE USE OF THIS WEAPON—THE
PROFANE BUFFOONERY OF FATHERS LE MOINE AND GARASSE.
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.sp 2

.pm fns 228
In this and the following letters, Pascal changes his style, from that
of dialogue to that of direct address, and from that of the liveliest irony
to that of serious invective and poignant satire.
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.rj
<i>August 18, 1656.</i>

<sc>Reverend Fathers</sc>,—I have seen the letters which you
are circulating in opposition to those which I wrote to one
of my friends on your morality; and I perceive that one of
the principal points of your defence is, that I have not spoken
of your maxims with sufficient seriousness. This charge
you repeat in all your productions, and carry it so far as to
allege, that I have been “guilty of turning sacred things into
ridicule.”

Such a charge, fathers, is no less surprising than it is unfounded.
Where do you find that I have turned sacred
things into ridicule? You specify “the Mohatra contract,
and the story of John d’Alba.” But are these what you
call “sacred things?” Does it really appear to you that the
Mohatra is something so venerable that it would be blasphemy
not to speak of it with respect? And the lessons of
Father Bauny on larceny, which led John d’Alba to practise
it at your expense, are they so sacred as to entitle you to
stigmatize all who laugh at them as profane people?

What, fathers! must the vagaries of your doctors pass for
the verities of the Christian faith, and no man be allowed to
ridicule Escobar, or the fantastical and unchristian dogmas
.bn 226.png
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of your authors, without being stigmatized as jesting at
religion? Is it possible you can have ventured to reiterate
so often an idea so utterly unreasonable? Have you no fears
that, in blaming me for laughing at your absurdities, you
may only afford me fresh subject of merriment; that you
may make the charge recoil on yourselves, by showing that
I have really selected nothing from your writings as the matter
of raillery, but what was truly ridiculous; and that thus,
in making a jest of your morality, I have been as far from
jeering at holy things, as the doctrine of your casuists is far
from the holy doctrine of the Gospel?

Indeed, reverend sirs, there is a vast difference between
laughing at religion, and laughing at those who profane it by
their extravagant opinions. It were impiety to be wanting
in respect for the verities which the Spirit of God has revealed;
but it were no less impiety of another sort, to be
wanting in contempt for the falsities which the spirit of man
opposes to them.[229]

.pm fns 229
“Religion, they tell us, ought not to be ridiculed; and they tell us
truth: yet surely the corruptions in it may; for we are taught by the
tritest maxim in the world, that religion being the best of things, its corruptions
are likely to be the worst.” (Swift’s Apology for a Tale of a
Tub.)
.pm fne

For, fathers (since you will force me into this argument),
I beseech you to consider that, just in proportion as Christian
truths are worthy of love and respect, the contrary
errors must deserve hatred and contempt; there being two
things in the truths of our religion—a divine beauty that
renders them lovely, and a sacred majesty that renders them
venerable; and two things also about errors—an impiety,
that makes them horrible, and an impertinence that renders
them ridiculous. For these reasons, while the saints have
ever cherished towards the truth the two-fold sentiment of
love and fear—the whole of their wisdom being comprised
between fear, which is its beginning, and love, which is its
end—they have, at the same time, entertained towards error
the two-fold feeling of hatred and contempt, and their zeal
has been at once employed to repel, by force of reasoning,
.bn 227.png
.pn +1
the malice of the wicked, and to chastise, by the aid of ridicule,
their extravagance and folly.

Do not then expect, fathers, to make people believe that
it is unworthy of a Christian to treat error with derision.
Nothing is easier than to convince all who were not aware of
it before, that this practice is perfectly just—that it is common
with the fathers of the Church, and that it is sanctioned
by Scripture, by the example of the best of saints, and even
by that of God himself.

Do we not find that God at once hates and despises sinners;
so that even at the hour of death, when their condition is
most sad and deplorable, Divine Wisdom adds mockery to
the vengeance which consigns them to eternal punishment?
“<lang=la><i>In interitu vestro ridebo et subsannabo</i></lang>—I will laugh at your
calamity.” The saints, too, influenced by the same feeling,
will join in the derision; for, according to David, when they
witness the punishment of the wicked, “they shall fear, and
yet laugh at it—<lang=la><i>videbunt justi et timebunt, et super eum ridebunt</i></lang>.”
And Job says: “<lang=la><i>Innocens subsannabit eos</i></lang>—The
innocent shall laugh at them.”[230]

.pm fns 230
Prov. i. 26; Ps. lii. 6; Job xxii. 19. In the first passage, the figure
is evidently what theologians call <em>anthropopathic</em>, or speaking of God
after the manner of men, and denotes his total disregard of the wicked
in the day of their calamity.
.pm fne

It is worthy of remark here, that the very first words
which God addressed to man after his fall, contain, in the
opinion of the fathers, “bitter irony” and mockery. After
Adam had disobeyed his Maker, in the hope, suggested by
the devil, of being like God, it appears from Scripture that
God, as a punishment, subjected him to death; and after
having reduced him to this miserable condition, which was
due to his sin, he taunted him in that state with the following
terms of derision: “Behold, the man has become as one
of us!—<lang=la><i>Ecce, Adam quasi unus ex nobis!</i></lang>”—which, according
to St. Jerome[231] and the interpreters, is “a grievous and
cutting piece of irony,” with which God “stung him to the
.bn 228.png
.pn +1
quick.” “Adam,” says Rupert, “deserved to be taunted in
this manner, and he would be naturally made to feel his folly
more acutely by this ironical expression than by a more serious
one.” St. Victor, after making the same remark, adds,
“that this irony was due to his sottish credulity, and that
this species of raillery is an act of justice, merited by him
against whom it was directed.”[232]

.pm fns 231
In most of the editions, it is “St. Chrysostom,” but I have followed
that of Nicole.
.pm fne

.pm fns 232
We may be permitted to question the correctness of this interpretation,
and the propriety of introducing it in the present connection. For
the former, the fathers, not Pascal, are responsible; as to the latter, it
was certainly superfluous, and not very happy, to have recourse to such
an example, to justify the use of ridicule as a weapon against religious
follies. Among other writers, the Abbé D’Artigny is very severe against
our author on this score, and quotes with approbation the following
censure on him: “Is it possible that a man of such genius and erudition
could justify the most criminal excesses by such respectable examples?
Not content with making witty old fellows of the prophets and
the holy fathers, nothing will serve him but to make us believe that the
Almighty himself has furnished us with precedents for the most bitter
slanders and pleasantries—an evident proof that there is nothing that
an author will not seek to justify when he follows his own passion.”
(Nouveaux Mémoires D’Artigny, ii. 185.) How solemnly and eloquently
will a man write down all such satires, when the jest is pointed
against himself and his party! D’Artigny quotes, within a few pages,
with evident relish, a bitter satire against a Protestant minister.
.pm fne

Thus you see, fathers, that ridicule is, in some cases, a
very appropriate means of reclaiming men from their errors,
and that it is accordingly an act of justice, because, as Jeremiah
says, “the actions of those that err are worthy of derision,
because of their vanity—<lang=la><i>vana sunt et risu digna</i></lang>.”
And so far from its being impious to laugh at them, St. Augustine
holds it to be the effect of divine wisdom: “The
wise laugh at the foolish, because they are wise, not after
their own wisdom, but after that divine wisdom which shall
laugh at the death of the wicked.”

The prophets, accordingly, filled with the Spirit of God,
have availed themselves of ridicule, as we find from the examples
of Daniel and Elias. In short, examples of it are
not wanting in the discourses of Jesus Christ himself. St.
Augustine remarks that, when he would humble Nicodemus,
who deemed himself so expert in his knowledge of the law,
“perceiving him to be puffed up with pride, from his rank
.bn 229.png
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as doctor of the Jews, he first beats down his presumption
by the magnitude of his demands, and having reduced him so
low that he was unable to answer, What! says he, you a
master in Israel, and not know these things!—as if he had
said, Proud ruler, confess that thou knowest nothing.” St.
Chrysostom and St. Cyril likewise observe upon this, that
“he deserved to be ridiculed in this manner.”

You may learn from this, fathers, that should it so happen,
in our day, that persons who enact the part of “masters”
among Christians, as Nicodemus and the Pharisees did
among the Jews, show themselves so ignorant of the first
principles of religion as to maintain, for example, that “a
man may be saved who never loved God all his life,” we only
follow the example of Jesus Christ, when we laugh at such
a combination of ignorance and conceit.

I am sure, fathers, these sacred examples are sufficient to
convince you, that to deride the errors and extravagances of
man is not inconsistent with the practice of the saints; otherwise
we must blame that of the greatest doctors of the
Church, who have been guilty of it—such as St. Jerome, in
his letters and writings against Jovinian, Vigilantius, and the
Pelagians; Tertullian, in his Apology against the follies of
idolaters; St. Augustine against the monks of Africa, whom
he styles “the hairy men;” St. Irenæus the Gnostics; St.
Bernard and the other fathers of the Church, who, having
been the imitators of the apostles, ought to be imitated by
the faithful in all time coming; for, say what we will, they
are the true models for Christians, even of the present
day.

In following such examples, I conceived that I could not
go far wrong; and, as I think I have sufficiently established
this position, I shall only add, in the admirable words of
Tertullian, which give the true explanation of the whole of
my proceeding in this matter: “What I have now done is
only a little sport before the real combat. I have rather indicated
the wounds that might be given you, than inflicted
any. If the reader has met with passages which have excited
.bn 230.png
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his risibility, he must ascribe this to the subjects themselves.
There are many things which deserve to be held up
in this way to ridicule and mockery, lest, by a serious refutation,
we should attach a weight to them which they do not
deserve. Nothing is more due to vanity than laughter; and
it is the Truth properly that has a right to laugh, because
she is cheerful, and to make sport of her enemies, because
she is sure of the victory. Care must be taken, indeed, that the
raillery is not too low, and unworthy of the truth; but, keeping
this in view, when ridicule may be employed with effect,
it is a duty to avail ourselves of it.” Do you not think,
fathers, that this passage is singularly applicable to our subject?
The letters which I have hitherto written are “merely
a little sport before a real combat.” As yet I have been
only playing with the foils, and “rather indicating the
wounds that might be given you than inflicting any.” I have
merely exposed your passages to the light, without making
almost a reflection on them. “If the reader has met with
any that have excited his risibility, he must ascribe this to
the subjects themselves.” And, indeed, what is more fitted
to raise a laugh, than to see a matter so grave as that of
Christian morality decked out with fancies so grotesque as
those in which you have exhibited it? One is apt to form
such high anticipations of these maxims, from being told that
“Jesus Christ himself has revealed them to the fathers of
the Society,” that when one discovers among them such absurdities
as “that a priest receiving money to say mass, may
take additional sums from other persons by giving up to them
his own share in the sacrifice;” “that a monk is not to be excommunicated
for putting off his habit, provided it is to
dance, swindle, or go incognito into infamous houses;” and
“that the duty of hearing mass may be fulfilled by listening
to four quarters of a mass at once from different priests”—when,
I say, one listens to such decisions as these, the surprise
is such that it is impossible to refrain from laughing;
for nothing is more calculated to produce that emotion than
a startling contrast between the thing looked for and the
.bn 231.png
.pn +1
thing looked at. And why should the greater part of these
maxims be treated in any other way? As Tertullian says,
“To treat them seriously would be to sanction them.”

What! is it necessary to bring up all the forces of Scripture
and tradition, in order to prove that running a sword
through a man’s body, covertly and behind his back, is to
murder him in treachery? or, that to give one money as a
motive to resign a benefice, is to purchase the benefice?
Yes, there are things which it is duty to despise, and which
“deserve only to be laughed at.” In short, the remark of
that ancient author, “that nothing is more due to vanity
than derision,” with what follows, applies to the case before
us so justly and so convincingly, as to put it beyond all
question that we may laugh at errors without violating propriety.

And let me add, fathers, that this may be done without
any breach of charity either, though this is another of the
charges you bring against me in your publications. For, according
to St. Augustine, “charity may sometimes oblige us
to ridicule the errors of men, that they may be induced to
laugh at them in their turn, and renounce them—<lang=la><i>Hæc tu
misericorditer irride, ut eis ridenda ac fugienda commendes</i></lang>.”
And the same charity may also, at other times, bind us to
repel them with indignation, according to that other saying
of St. Gregory of Nazianzen: “The spirit of meekness and
charity hath its emotions and its heats.” Indeed, as St. Augustine
observes, “who would venture to say that truth
ought to stand disarmed against falsehood, or that the enemies
of the faith shall be at liberty to frighten the faithful
with hard words, and jeer at them with lively sallies of wit;
while the Catholics ought never to write except with a coldness
of style enough to set the reader asleep?”

Is it not obvious that, by following such a course, a wide
door would be opened for the introduction of the most extravagant
and pernicious dogmas into the Church; while
none would be allowed to treat them with contempt, through
fear of being charged with violating propriety, or to confute
.bn 232.png
.pn +1
them with indignation, from the dread of being taxed with
want of charity?

Indeed, fathers! shall you be allowed to maintain, “that
it is lawful to kill a man to avoid a box on the ear or an
affront,” and must nobody be permitted publicly to expose
a public error of such consequence? Shall you be at liberty
to say, “that a judge may in conscience retain a fee received
for an act of injustice,” and shall no one be at liberty to
contradict you? Shall you print, with the privilege and approbation
of your doctors, “that a man may be saved without
ever having loved God;” and will you shut the mouth
of those who defend the true faith, by telling them that they
would violate brotherly love by attacking you, and Christian
modesty by laughing at your maxims? I doubt, fathers, if
there be any persons whom you could make believe this; if,
however, there be any such, who are really persuaded that,
by denouncing your morality, I have been deficient in the
charity which I owe to you, I would have them examine,
with great jealousy, whence this feeling takes its rise within
them. They may imagine that it proceeds from a holy zeal,
which will not allow them to see their neighbor impeached
without being scandalized at it; but I would entreat them
to consider, that it is not impossible that it may flow from
another source, and that it is even extremely likely that it
may spring from that secret, and often self-concealed dissatisfaction,
which the unhappy corruption within us seldom
fails to stir up against those who oppose the relaxation of
morals. And to furnish them with a rule which may enable
them to ascertain the real principle from which it proceeds,
I will ask them, if, while they lament the way in which the
religious[233] have been treated, they lament still more the manner
in which these religious have treated the truth. If they
are incensed, not only against the letters, but still more
against the maxims quoted in them, I shall grant it to be
barely possible that their resentment proceeds from some
.bn 233.png
.pn +1
zeal, though not of the most enlightened kind; and, in this
case, the passages I have just cited from the fathers will
serve to enlighten them. But if they are merely angry at
the reprehension, and not at the things reprehended, truly,
fathers, I shall never scruple to tell them that they are
grossly mistaken, and that their zeal is miserably blind.

.pm fns 233
“Religious,” is a general term, applied in the Romish Church to
all who are in holy orders.
.pm fne

Strange zeal, indeed! which gets angry at those that censure
public faults, and not at those that commit them! Novel
charity this, which groans at seeing error confuted, but feels
no grief at seeing morality subverted by that error! If these
persons were in danger of being assassinated, pray, would
they be offended at one advertising them of the stratagem
that had been laid for them; and instead of turning out of
their way to avoid it, would they trifle away their time in
whining about the little charity manifested in discovering to
them the criminal design of the assassins? Do they get
waspish when one tells them not to eat such an article of
food, because it is poisoned? or not to enter such a city, because
it has the plague?

Whence comes it, then, that the same persons who set
down a man as wanting in charity, for exposing maxims hurtful
to religion, would, on the contrary, think him equally deficient
in that grace were he not to disclose matters hurtful
to health and life, unless it be from this, that their fondness
for life induces them to take in good part every hint that contributes
to its preservation, while their indifference to truth
leads them, not only to take no share in its defence, but even
to view with pain the efforts made for the extirpation of falsehood?

Let them seriously ponder, as in the sight of God, how
shameful, and how prejudicial to the Church, is the morality
which your casuists are in the habit of propagating; the
scandalous and unmeasured license which they are introducing
into public manners; the obstinate and violent hardihood
with which you support them. And if they do not think it
full time to rise against such disorders, their blindness is as
much to be pitied as yours, fathers; and you and they have
.bn 234.png
.pn +1
equal reason to dread that saying of St. Augustine, founded
on the words of Jesus Christ, in the Gospel: “Woe to the
blind leaders! woe to the blind followers!—<lang=la><i>Væ cæcis ducentibus!
væ cæcis sequentibus!</i></lang>”

But to leave you no room in future, either to create such
impressions on the minds of others, or to harbor them in your
own, I shall tell you, fathers (and I am ashamed I should
have to teach you what I should have rather learnt from
you), the marks which the fathers of the Church have given
for judging when our animadversions flow from a principle
of piety and charity, and when from a spirit of malice and
impiety.

The first of these rules is, that the spirit of piety always
prompts us to speak with sincerity and truthfulness; whereas
malice and envy make use of falsehood and calumny.
“<lang=la><i>Splendentia et vehementia, sed rebus veris</i></lang>—Splendid and
vehement in words, but true in things,” as St. Augustine
says. The dealer in falsehood is an agent of the devil. No
direction of the intention can sanctify slander; and though
the conversion of the whole earth should depend on it, no
man may warrantably calumniate the innocent: because none
may do the least evil, in order to accomplish the greatest
good; and, as the Scripture says, “the truth of God stands
in no need of our lie.” St. Hilary observes, that “it is the
bounden duty of the advocates of truth, to advance nothing
in its support but true things.” Now, fathers, I can declare
before God, that there is nothing that I detest more than the
slightest possible deviation from the truth, and that I have ever
taken the greatest care, not only not to falsify (which would be
horrible), but not to alter or wrest, in the slightest possible
degree, the sense of a single passage. So closely have I adhered
to this rule, that if I may presume to apply them to
the present case, I may safely say, in the words of the same
St. Hilary: “If we advance things that are false, let our
statements be branded with infamy; but if we can show that
they are public and notorious, it is no breach of apostolic
modesty or liberty to expose them.”
.bn 235.png
.pn +1

It is not enough, however, to tell nothing but the truth;
we must not always tell everything that is true; we should
publish only those things which it is useful to disclose, and
not those which can only hurt, without doing any good. And,
therefore, as the first rule is to speak with truth, the second
is to speak with discretion. “The wicked,” says St. Augustine,
“in persecuting the good, blindly follow the dictates of
their passion; but the good, in their prosecution of the wicked,
are guided by a wise discretion, even as the surgeon warily
considers where he is cutting, while the murderer cares
not where he strikes.” You must be sensible, fathers, that
in selecting from the maxims of your authors, I have refrained
from quoting those which would have galled you most, though
I might have done it, and that without sinning against discretion,
as others who were both learned and catholic writers,
have done before me. All who have read your authors know
how far I have spared you in this respect.[234] Besides, I have
taken no notice whatever of what might be brought against
individual characters among you; and I would have been extremely
sorry to have said a word about secret and personal
failings, whatever evidence I might have of them, being persuaded
that this is the distinguishing property of malice, and
a practice which ought never to be resorted to, unless where
it is urgently demanded for the good of the Church. It is
obvious, therefore, that in what I have been compelled to advance
against your moral maxims, I have been by no means
wanting in due consideration: and that you have more reason
to congratulate yourself on my moderation than to complain
of my indiscretion.

.pm fns 234
“So far,” says Nicole, “from his having told all that he might
against the Jesuits, he has spared them on points so essential and important,
that all who have a complete knowledge of their maxims have
admired his moderation.” “What would have been the case,” asks another
writer, “had Pascal exposed the late infamous things put out by
their miserable casuists, and unfolded the chain and succession of their
regicide authors?” (Dissertation sur la foi due au Pascal, &c., p. 14.)
.pm fne

The third rule, fathers, is: That when there is need to employ
a little raillery, the spirit of piety will take care to employ
it against error only, and not against things holy;
.bn 236.png
.pn +1
whereas the spirit of buffoonery, impiety, and heresy, mocks
at all that is most sacred. I have already vindicated myself
on that score; and indeed there is no great danger of falling
into that vice so long as I confine my remarks to the opinions
which I have quoted from your authors.

In short, fathers, to abridge these rules, I shall only mention
another, which is the essence and the end of all the rest:
That the spirit of charity prompts us to cherish in the heart
a desire for the salvation of those against whom we dispute,
and to address our prayers to God while we direct our accusations
to men. “We ought ever,” says St. Augustine, “to
preserve charity in the heart, even while we are obliged to
pursue a line of external conduct which to man has the appearance
of harshness; we ought to smite them with a sharpness,
severe but kindly, remembering that their advantage is
more to be studied than their gratification.” I am sure, fathers,
that there is nothing in my letters, from which it can
be inferred that I have not cherished such a desire towards
you; and as you can find nothing to the contrary in them,
charity obliges you to believe that I have been really actuated
by it. It appears, then, that you cannot prove that I have
offended against this rule, or against any of the other rules
which charity inculcates; and you have no right to say,
therefore, that I have violated it.

But, fathers, if you should now like to have the pleasure
of seeing, within a short compass, a course of conduct directly
at variance with each of these rules, and bearing the genuine
stamp of the spirit of buffoonery, envy, and hatred, I shall
give you a few examples of it; and that they may be of the
sort best known and most familiar to you, I shall extract
them from your own writings.

To begin, then, with the unworthy manner in which your
authors speak of holy things, whether in their sportive and
gallant effusions, or in their more serious pieces, do you think
that the parcel of ridiculous stories, which your father Binet
has introduced into his “Consolation to the Sick,” are
exactly suitable to his professed object, which is that of imparting
.bn 237.png
.pn +1
Christian consolation to those whom God has chastened
with affliction? Will you pretend to say, that the
profane, foppish style in which your Father Le Moine has
talked of piety in his “Devotion made Easy,” is more fitted
to inspire respect than contempt for the picture that he draws
of Christian virtue? What else does his whole book of
“Moral Pictures” breathe, both in its prose and poetry, but
a spirit full of vanity, and the follies of this world? Take,
for example, that ode in his seventh book, entitled, “Eulogy
on Bashfulness, showing that all beautiful things are red, or
inclined to redden.” Call you that a production worthy of
a priest? The ode is intended to comfort a lady, called
Delphina, who was sadly addicted to blushing. Each stanza
is devoted to show that certain red things are the best of
things, such as roses, pomegranates, the mouth, the tongue;
and it is in the midst of this badinage, so disgraceful in a
clergyman, that he has the effrontery to introduce those
blessed spirits that minister before God, and of whom no
Christian should speak without reverence:—

.fs 80%
.nf b
“The cherubim—those glorious choirs—
  Composed of head and plumes,
Whom God with his own Spirit inspires,
  And with his eyes illumes.
These splendid faces, as they fly,
Are ever red and burning high,
With fire angelic or divine;
And while their mutual flames combine,
The waving of their wings supplies
A fan to cool their extacies!
But redness shines with better grace,
Delphina, on thy beauteous face,
Where modesty sits revelling—
Arrayed in purple, like a king,” &c.
.nf-
.fs

What think you of this, fathers? Does this preference
of the blushes of Delphina to the ardor of those spirits, which
is neither more nor less than the ardor of divine love, and
this simile of the fan applied to their mysterious wings,
strike you as being very Christian-like in the lips which consecrate
.bn 238.png
.pn +1
the adorable body of Jesus Christ? I am quite
aware that he speaks only in the character of a gallant, and
to raise a smile; but this is precisely what is called laughing
at things holy. And is it not certain, that, were he to get
full justice, he could not save himself from incurring a censure?
although, to shield himself from this, he pleads an
excuse which is hardly less censurable than the offence,
“that the Sorbonne has no jurisdiction over Parnassus, and
that the errors of that land are subject neither to censure nor
the Inquisition;”—as if one could act the blasphemer and
profane fellow only in prose! There is another passage,
however, in the preface, where even this excuse fails him,
when he says, “that the water of the river, on whose banks
he composes his verses, is so apt to make poets, that, though
it were converted into <em>holy water</em>, it would not chase away
the demon of poesy.” To match this, I may add the following
flight of your Father Garasse, in his “Summary of the
Capital Truths in Religion,” where, speaking of the sacred
mystery of the incarnation, he mixes up blasphemy and heresy
in this fashion: “The human personality was grafted, as
it were, or <em>set on horseback</em>, upon the personality of the
Word!”[235] And omitting many others, I might mention another
passage from the same author, who, speaking on the
subject of the name of Jesus, ordinarily written thus,

.nf c
✝
I. H. S.
.nf-

.ni
observes that “some have taken away the cross from the
top of it, leaving the characters barely thus, I.\_H.\_S.—which,”
says he, “is a stripped Jesus!”
.pi

.pm fns 235
The apologists of the Jesuits attempted to justify this extraordinary
illustration, by referring to the use which Augustine and other fathers
make of the parable of the good Samaritan who “set on his own beast”
the wounded traveller. But Nicole has shown that fanciful as these
ancient interpreters often were, it is doing them injustice to <em>father</em> on
them the absurdity of Father Garasse. (Nicole’s Notes, iii. 340.)
.pm fne

Such is the indecency with which you treat the truths of
religion, in the face of the inviolable law which binds us always
to speak of them with reverence. But you have sinned
no less flagrantly against the rule which obliges us to speak
of them with truth and discretion. What is more common
.bn 239.png
.pn +1
in your writings than calumny? Can those of Father Brisacier[236]
be called sincere? Does he speak with truth when
he says, that “the nuns of Port-Royal do not pray to the
saints, and have no images in their church?” Are not these
most outrageous falsehoods, when the contrary appears before
the eyes of all Paris? And can he be said to speak with
discretion, when he stabs the fair reputation of these virgins,
who lead a life so pure and austere, representing them as
“impenitent, unsacramentalists, uncommunicants, foolish virgins,
visionaries, Calagans, desperate creatures, and anything
you please,” loading them with many other slanders, which
have justly incurred the censure of the late Archbishop of
Paris? or when he calumniates priests of the most irreproachable
morals,[237] by asserting “that they practise novelties in
confession, to entrap handsome innocent females, and that he
would be horrified to tell the abominable crimes which they
commit.” Is it not a piece of intolerable assurance, to advance
slanders so black and base, not merely without proof,
but without the slightest shadow, or the most distant semblance
of truth? I shall not enlarge on this topic, but defer
it to a future occasion, for I have something more to say to
you about it; but what I have now produced is enough to
show that you have sinned at once against truth and discretion.

.pm fns 236
Brisacier, who became rector of the College of Rouen, was a bitter
enemy of the Port-Royalists. His defamatory libel against the nuns of
Port-Royal, entitled “Le Jansenisme Confondu,” published in 1651,
was censured by the Archbishop of Paris, and vigorously assailed by
M. Arnauld.
.pm fne

.pm fns 237
The priests of Port-Royal.
.pm fne

But it may be said, perhaps, that you have not offended
against the last rule at least, which binds you to desire the
salvation of those whom you denounce, and that none can
charge you with this, except by unlocking the secrets of
your breasts, which are only known to God. It is strange,
fathers, but true, nevertheless, that we can convict you even
of this offence; that while your hatred to your opponents
has carried you so far as to wish their eternal perdition, your
.bn 240.png
.pn +1
infatuation has driven you to discover the abominable wish;
that so far from cherishing in secret desires for their salvation,
you have offered up prayers in public for their damnation;
and that, after having given utterance to that hideous
vow in the city of Caen, to the scandal of the whole Church,
you have since then ventured, in Paris, to vindicate, in your
printed books, the diabolical transaction. After such gross
offences against piety, first ridiculing and speaking lightly of
things the most sacred; next falsely and scandalously calumniating
priests and virgins; and lastly, forming desires
and prayers for their damnation, it would be difficult to add
anything worse. I cannot conceive, fathers, how you can
fail to be ashamed of yourselves, or how you could have
thought for an instant of charging me with a want of charity,
who have acted all along with so much truth and moderation,
without reflecting on your own horrid violations of charity,
manifested in those deplorable exhibitions, which make the
charge recoil against yourselves.

In fine, fathers, to conclude with another charge which you
bring against me, I see you complain that among the vast
number of your maxims which I quote, there are some which
have been objected to already, and that I “say over again,
what others have said before me.” To this I reply, that it is
just because you have not profited by what has been said before,
that I say it over again. Tell me now what fruit has
appeared from all the castigations you have received in all
the books written by learned doctors, and even the whole
university? What more have your fathers Annat, Caussin,
Pintereau, and Le Moine done, in the replies they have put
forth, except loading with reproaches those who had given
them salutary admonitions? Have you suppressed the books
in which these nefarious maxims are taught?[238] Have you
.bn 241.png
.pn +1
restrained the authors of these maxims? Have you become
more circumspect in regard to them? On the contrary, is
it not the fact, that since that time Escobar has been repeatedly
reprinted in France and in the Low Countries, and that
your fathers Cellot, Bagot, Bauny, Lamy, Le Moine, and
others, persist in publishing daily the same maxims over
again, or new ones as licentious as ever? Let us hear no
more complaints, then, fathers, either because I have charged
you with maxims which you have not disavowed, or because
I have objected to some new ones against you, or because I
have laughed equally at them all. You have only to sit down
and look at them, to see at once your own confusion and my
defence. Who can look without laughing at the decision of
Bauny, respecting the person who employs another to set
fire to his neighbor’s barn; that of Cellot on restitution; the
rule of Sanchez in favor of sorcerers; the plan of Hurtado
for avoiding the sin of duelling by taking a walk through a
field, and waiting for a man; the compliments of Bauny for
escaping usury; the way of avoiding simony by a detour of
the intention, and keeping clear of falsehood by speaking high
and low; and such other opinions of your most grave and
reverend doctors? Is there anything more necessary, fathers,
for my vindication? and as Tertullian says, “can anything
be more justly due to the vanity and weakness of these opinions
than laughter?” But, fathers, the corruption of manners
to which your maxims lead deserves another sort of
consideration; and it becomes us to ask, with the same ancient
writer, “Whether ought we to laugh at their folly, or
deplore their blindness?—<lang=la><i>Rideam vanitatem, an exprobrem
cæcitatem</i></lang>?” My humble opinion is, that one may either
laugh at them or weep over them, as one is in the humor.
<lang=la><i>Hæc tolerabilius vel ridentur, vel flentur</i></lang>, as St. Augustine
says. The Scripture tells us that “there is a time to laugh,
and a time to weep;” and my hope is, fathers, that I may
not find verified, in your case, these words in the Proverbs:
.bn 242.png
.pn +1
“If a wise man contendeth with a foolish man, whether he
rage or laugh, there is no rest.”[239]

.pm fns 238
This is the real question, which brings the matter to a point, and
serves to answer all the evasions of the Jesuits. They boast of their
unity as a society and their blind obedience to their head. Have they,
then, ever, <em>as a society</em>, disclaimed these maxims?—have they even, <em>as
such</em>, condemned the sentiments their fathers Becan, Mariana, and
others, on the duty of dethroning and assassinating heretical kings?
They have not; and till this is done, they must be held, <em>as Jesuits</em>, responsible
for the sentiments which they refuse to disavow.
.pm fne

.pm fns 239
Prov. xxix. 9.
.pm fne

.tb

<i>P. S.</i>—On finishing this letter, there was put in my hands
one of your publications, in which you accuse me of falsification,
in the case of six of your maxims quoted by me, and
also with being in correspondence with heretics. You will
shortly receive, I trust, a suitable reply; after which, fathers,
I rather think you will not feel very anxious to continue this
species of warfare.[240]

.pm fns 240
This postscript, which appeared in the earlier editions, is dropt in
that of Nicole and others.
.pm fne

.fm lz=t

.bn 243.png
.pn +1

.sp 4
.h2
LETTER XII.

.ce
TO THE REVEREND FATHERS, THE JESUITS.

.fs 80%
.ce
REFUTATION OF THEIR CHICANERIES REGARDING ALMS-GIVING AND SIMONY.
.fs

.sp 2

.rj
<i>September 9, 1656.</i>

<sc>Reverend Fathers</sc>,—I was prepared to write you on the
subject of the abuse with which you have for some time past
been assailing me in your publications, in which you salute
me with such epithets as “reprobate,” “buffoon,” “blockhead,”
“merry-Andrew,” “impostor,” “slanderer,” “cheat,”
“heretic,” “Calvinist in disguise,” “disciple of Du Moulin,”[241]
“possessed with a legion of devils,” and everything else you
can think of. As I should be sorry to have all this believed
of me, I was anxious to show the public why you treated me
in this manner; and I had resolved to complain of your calumnies
and falsifications, when I met with your Answers, in
which you bring these same charges against myself. This
will compel me to alter my plan; though it will not prevent
me from prosecuting it in some sort, for I hope, while defending
myself, to convict you of impostures more genuine
than the imaginary ones which you have ascribed to me.
Indeed, fathers, the suspicion of foul play is much more sure
to rest on you than on me. It is not very likely, standing
.bn 244.png
.pn +1
as I do, alone, without power or any human defence, against
such a large body, and having no support but truth and integrity,
that I would expose myself to lose everything, by
laying myself open to be convicted of imposture. It is too
easy to discover falsifications in matters of fact such as the
present. In such a case there would have been no want of
persons to accuse me, nor would justice have been denied
them. With you, fathers, the case is very different; you
may say as much as you please against me, while I may look
in vain for any to complain to. With such a wide difference
between our positions, though there had been no other consideration
to restrain me, it became me to study no little
caution. By treating me, however, as a common slanderer,
you compel me to assume the defensive, and you must be
aware that this cannot be done without entering into a fresh
exposition, and even into a fuller disclosure of the points of
your morality. In provoking this discussion, I fear you are
not acting as good politicians. The war must be waged
within your own camp, and at your own expense; and although
you imagine that, by embroiling the questions with
scholastic terms, the answers will be so tedious, thorny, and
obscure, that people will lose all relish for the controversy,
this may not, perhaps, turn out to be exactly the case; I
shall use my best endeavors to tax your patience as little as
possible with that sort of writing. Your maxims have something
diverting about them, which keeps up the good humor
of people to the last. At all events, remember that it is
you that oblige me to enter upon this eclaircissement, and let
us see which of us comes off best in defending themselves.

.pm fns 241
Pierre du Moulin is termed by Bayle “one of the most celebrated
ministers which the Reformed Church in France ever had to boast of.”
He was born in 1568, and was for some time settled in Paris; but having
incurred the resentment of Louis XIII., he retired to Sedan in 1623,
where he became a professor in the Protestant University, and died, in
the ninetieth year of his age, in 1658, two years after the time when
Pascal wrote. Of his numerous writings, few are known in this country,
excepting his “Buckler of the Faith,” and his “Anatomy of the
Mass,” which were translated into English. (Quick’s Synodicon, ii.,
105.)
.pm fne

The first of your Impostures, as you call them, is on the
opinion of Vasquez upon alms-giving. To avoid all ambiguity,
then, allow me to give a simple explanation of the matter
in dispute. It is well known, fathers, that according to the
mind of the Church, there are two precepts touching alms—<em>1st</em>,
“To give out of our superfluity in the case of the ordinary
necessities of the poor;” and <em>2dly</em>, “To give even out
of our necessaries, according to our circumstances, in cases
.bn 245.png
.pn +1
of extreme necessity.” Thus says Cajetan, after St. Thomas;
so that, to get at the mind of Vasquez on this subject, we
must consider the rules he lays down, both in regard to necessaries
and superfluities.

With regard to superfluity, which is the most common
source of relief to the poor, it is entirely set aside by that
single maxim which I have quoted in my Letters: “That
what the men of the world keep with the view of improving
their own condition and that of their relatives, is not properly
superfluity; so that, such a thing as superfluity is rarely to
be met with among men of the world, not even excepting
kings.” It is very easy to see, fathers, that according to
this definition, none can have superfluity, provided they have
ambition; and thus, so far as the greater part of the world
is concerned, alms-giving is annihilated. But even though a
man should happen to have superfluity, he would be under
no obligation, according to Vasquez, to give it away in the
case of ordinary necessity; for he protests against those who
would thus bind the rich. Here are his own words: “Corduba,”
says he, “teaches, that when we have a superfluity
we are bound to give out of it in cases of ordinary necessity;
but <em>this does not please me</em>—<lang=la><i>sed hoc non placet</i></lang>—for we have
demonstrated the contrary against Cajetan and Navarre.”
So, fathers, the obligation to this kind of alms is wholly set
aside, according to the good pleasure of Vasquez.

With regard to necessaries, out of which we are bound to
give in cases of extreme and urgent necessity, it must be obvious,
from the conditions by which he has limited the obligation,
that the richest man in all Paris may not come within
its reach once in a lifetime. I shall only refer to two of
these. The first is, That “<em>we must know</em> that the poor man
cannot be relieved from any other quarter—<lang=la><i>hæc intelligo et
cætera omnia, quando <sc>SCIO</sc> nullum alium opem laturum</i></lang>.”
What say you to this, fathers? Is it likely to happen frequently
in Paris, where there are so many charitable people,
that I <em>must know</em> that there is not another soul but myself
to relieve the poor wretch who begs an alms from me? And
.bn 246.png
.pn +1
yet, according to Vasquez, if I have not ascertained that fact,
I may send him away with nothing. The second condition
is, That the poor man be reduced to such straits “that he is
menaced with some fatal accident, or the ruin of his character”—none
of them very common occurrences. But what
marks still more the rarity of the cases in which one is bound
to give charity, is his remark, in another passage, that the
poor man must be so ill off, “that he may conscientiously rob
the rich man!” This must surely be a very extraordinary
case, unless he will insist that a man may be ordinarily allowed
to commit robbery. And so, after having cancelled
the obligation to give alms out of our superfluities, he obliges
the rich to relieve the poor only in those cases when he
would allow the poor to rifle the rich! Such is the doctrine
of Vasquez, to whom you refer your readers for their
edification!

I now come to your pretended Impostures. You begin
by enlarging on the obligation to alms-giving which Vasquez
imposes on ecclesiastics. But on this point I have said nothing;
and I am prepared to take it up whenever you choose.
This, then, has nothing to do with the present question. As
for laymen, who are the only persons with whom we have
now to do, you are apparently anxious to have it understood
that, in the passage which I quoted, Vasquez is giving not
his own judgment, but that of Cajetan. But as nothing
could be more false than this, and as you have not said it in
so many terms, I am willing to believe, for the sake of your
character, that you did not intend to say it.

You next loudly complain that, after quoting that maxim
of Vasquez, “Such a thing as superfluity is rarely if ever
to be met with among men of the world, not excepting
kings,” <em>I have inferred</em> from it, “that the rich are rarely, if
ever, bound to give alms out of their superfluity.” But
what do you mean to say, fathers? If it be true that the
rich have almost never superfluity, is it not obvious that they
will almost never be bound to give alms out of their superfluity?
I might have put it into the form of a syllogism for
.bn 247.png
.pn +1
you, if Diana, who has such an esteem for Vasquez that he
calls him “the phœnix of genius,” had not drawn the same
conclusion from the same premises; for, after quoting the
maxim of Vasquez, he concludes, “that, with regard to the
question, whether the rich are obliged to give alms out of
their superfluity, though the affirmation were true, it would
seldom, or almost never, happen to be obligatory in practice.”
I have followed this language word for word. What, then,
are we to make of this, fathers? When Diana quotes with
approbation the sentiments of Vasquez—when he finds them
probable, and “very convenient for rich people,” as he says
in the same place, he is no slanderer, no falsifier, and we
hear no complaints of misrepresenting his author; whereas,
when I cite the same sentiments of Vasquez, though without
holding him up as a phœnix, I am a slanderer, a fabricator,
a corrupter of his maxims. Truly, fathers, you have some
reason to be apprehensive, lest your very different treatment
of those who agree in their representation, and differ only in
their estimate of your doctrine, discover the real secret of
your hearts, and provoke the conclusion, that the main object
you have in view is to maintain the credit and glory of
your Company. It appears that, provided your accommodating
theology is treated as judicious complaisance, you
never disavow those that publish it, but laud them as contributing
to your design; but let it be held forth as pernicious
laxity, and the same interest of your Society prompts you to
disclaim the maxims which would injure you in public estimation.
And thus you recognize or renounce them, not
according to the truth, which never changes, but according
to the shifting exigencies of the times, acting on that motto
of one of the ancients, “<lang=la><i>Omnia pro tempore, nihil pro veritate</i></lang>—Anything
for the times, nothing for the truth.” Beware
of this, fathers; and that you may never have it in
your power again to say that I drew from the principle of
Vasquez a conclusion which he had disavowed, I beg to inform
you that he has drawn it himself: “According to the
opinion of Cajetan, and according to <sc>MY OWN</sc>—<lang=la><i>et secundum</i></lang>
.bn 248.png
.pn +1
<lang=la><i>nostram</i></lang>—(he says, chap, i., no. 27), one is hardly obliged to
give alms at all, when one is only obliged to give them out
of one’s superfluity.” Confess then, fathers, on the testimony
of Vasquez himself, that I have exactly copied his
sentiment; and think how you could have the conscience to
say, that “the reader, on consulting the original, would see
to his astonishment, that he there teaches the very reverse!”

In fine, you insist, above all, that if Vasquez does not bind
the rich to give alms out of their superfluity, he obliges them
to atone for this by giving out of the necessaries of life.
But you have forgotten to mention the list of conditions
which he declares to be essential to constitute that obligation,
which I have quoted, and which restrict it in such a way as
almost entirely to annihilate it. In place of giving this honest
statement of his doctrine, you tell us, in general terms,
that he obliges the rich to give even what is necessary to
their condition. This is proving too much, fathers; the rule
of the Gospel does not go so far; and it would be an error,
into which Vasquez is very far, indeed, from having fallen.
To cover his laxity, you attribute to him an excess of severity
which would be reprehensible; and thus you lose all credit
as faithful reporters of his sentiments. But the truth is,
Vasquez is quite free from any such suspicion; for he has
maintained, as I have shown, that the rich are not bound,
either in justice or in charity, to give of their superfluities,
and still less of their necessaries, to relieve the ordinary wants
of the poor; and that they are not obliged to give of the necessaries,
except in cases so rare that they almost never happen.

Having disposed of your objections against me on this
head, it only remains to show the falsehood of your assertion,
that Vasquez is more severe than Cajetan. This will be very
easily done. That cardinal teaches “that we are bound in
justice to give alms out of our superfluity, even in the ordinary
wants of the poor; because, according to the holy
fathers, the rich are merely the dispensers of their superfluity,
which they are to give to whom they please, among
those who have need of it.” And accordingly, unlike Diana,
.bn 249.png
.pn +1
who says of the maxims of Vasquez, that they will be “very
convenient and agreeable to the rich and their confessors,”
the cardinal, who has no such consolation to afford them, declares
that he has nothing to say to the rich but these words
of Jesus Christ: “It is easier for a camel to go through the
eye of a needle, than for a rich man to enter into heaven;”
and to their confessors: “If the blind lead the blind, both
shall fall into the ditch.”[242] So indispensable did he deem
this obligation! This, too, is what the fathers and all the
saints have laid down as a certain truth. “There are two
cases,” says St. Thomas, “in which we are bound to give
alms as a matter of justice—<lang=la><i>ex debito legali</i></lang>: one, when the
poor are in danger; the other, when we possess superfluous
property.” And again: “The three tenths which the Jews
were bound to eat with the poor, have been augmented under
the new law; for Jesus Christ wills that we give to the poor,
not the tenth only, but the whole of our superfluity.” And
yet it does not seem good to Vasquez that we should be
obliged to give even a fragment of our superfluity; such is
his complaisance to the rich, such his hardness to the poor,
such his contrariety to those feelings of charity which teach
us to relish the truth contained in the following words of
St. Gregory, harsh as it may sound to the rich of this world:
“When we give the poor what is necessary to them, we are
not so much bestowing on them what is our property, as
rendering to them what is their own; and it may be said to
be an act of justice, rather than a work of mercy.”

.pm fns 242
De Eleemosyna, c. 6.
.pm fne

It is thus that the saints recommend the rich to share with
the poor the good things of this earth, if they would expect
to possess with them the good things of heaven. While
you make it your business to foster in the breasts of men
that ambition which leaves no superfluity to dispose of, and
that avarice which refuses to part with it, the saints have labored
to induce the rich to give up their superfluity, and to
convince them that they would have abundance of it, provided
they measured it, not by the standard of covetousness,
.bn 250.png
.pn +1
which knows no bounds to its cravings, but by that of
piety, which is ingenious in retrenchments, so as to have
wherewith to diffuse itself in the exercise of charity. “We
will have a great deal of superfluity,” says St. Augustine, “if
we keep only what is necessary: but if we seek after vanities,
we will never have enough. Seek, brethren, what is sufficient
for the work of God”—that is, for nature—“and not
for what is sufficient for your covetousness,” which is the
work of the devil: “and remember that the superfluities of
the rich are the necessaries of the poor.”

I would fondly trust, fathers, that what I have now said
to you may serve, not only for my vindication—that were a
small matter—but also to make you feel and detest what is
corrupt in the maxims of your casuists, and thus unite us
sincerely under the sacred rules of the Gospel, according to
which we must all be judged.

As to the second point, which regards simony, before proceeding
to answer the charges you have advanced against
me, I shall begin by illustrating your doctrine on this subject.
Finding yourselves placed in an awkward dilemma,
between the canons of the Church, which impose dreadful
penalties upon simoniacs, on the one hand, and the avarice
of many who pursue this infamous traffic on the other, you
have recourse to your ordinary method, which is to yield to
men what they desire, and give the Almighty only words
and shows. For what else does the simoniac want, but
money, in return for his benefice? And yet this is what you
exempt from the charge of simony. And as the name of
simony must still remain standing, and a subject to which it
may be ascribed, you have substituted, in the place of this,
an imaginary idea, which never yet crossed the brain of a
simoniac, and would not serve him much though it did—the
idea, namely, that simony lies in estimating the money considered
in itself as highly as the spiritual gift or office considered
in itself. Who would ever take it into his head to
compare things so utterly disproportionate and heterogeneous?
And yet, provided this metaphysical comparison be not
.bn 251.png
.pn +1
drawn, any one may, according to your authors, give away
a benefice, and receive money in return for it, without being
guilty of simony.

Such is the way in which you sport with religion, in order
to gratify the worst passions of men; and yet only see with
what gravity your Father Valentia delivers his rhapsodies in
the passage cited in my letters. He says: “One may give
a spiritual for a temporal good in two ways—first, in the way
of prizing the temporal more than the spiritual, and that
would be simony; secondly, in the way of taking the temporal
as the motive and end inducing one to give away the
spiritual, but without prizing the temporal more than the
spiritual, and then it is not simony. And the reason is, that
simony consists in receiving something temporal, as the just
price of what is spiritual. If, therefore, the temporal is
sought—<lang=la><i>si petatur temporale</i></lang>—not as the <em>price</em>, but only as
the <em>motive</em> determining us to part with the spiritual, it is by
no means simony, even although the possession of the temporal
may be principally intended and expected—<lang=la><i>minime erit
simonia, etiamsi temporale principaliter intendatur et expectetur</i></lang>.”
Your redoubtable Sanchez has been favored with a
similar revelation; Escobar quotes him thus: “If one give a
spiritual for a temporal good, not as the <em>price</em>, but as a <em>motive</em>
to induce the collator to give it, or as an <em>acknowledgment</em>
if the benefice has been actually received, is that simony?
Sanchez assures us that it is not.” In your Caen Theses of
1644, you say: “It is a probable opinion, taught by many
Catholics, that it is not simony to exchange a temporal for a
spiritual good, when the former is not given as a price.” And
as to Tanner, here is his doctrine, exactly the same with that
of Valentia; and I quote it again to show you how far wrong
it is in you to complain of me for saying that it does not
agree with that of St. Thomas, for he avows it himself in the
very passage which I quoted in my letter: “There is properly
and truly no simony,” says he, “unless when a temporal
good is taken as the price of a spiritual; but when taken
merely as the motive for giving the spiritual, or as an acknowledgment
.bn 252.png
.pn +1
for having received it, this is not simony, at
least in point of conscience.” And again: “The same thing
may be said although the temporal should be regarded as the
principal end, and even preferred to the spiritual; although
St. Thomas and others appear to hold the reverse, inasmuch
as they maintain it to be downright simony to exchange a
spiritual for a temporal good, when the temporal is the end
of the transaction.”

Such, then, being your doctrine on simony, as taught by
your best authors, who follow each other very closely in this
point, it only remains now to reply to your charges of misrepresentation.
You have taken no notice of Valentia’s opinion,
so that his doctrine stands as it was before. But you fix
on that of Tanner, maintaining that he has merely decided it
to be no simony by divine right; and you would have it to
be believed that, in quoting the passage, I have suppressed
these words, <em>divine right</em>. This, fathers, is a most unconscionable
trick; for these words, <em>divine right</em>, never existed
in that passage. You add that Tanner declares it to be
simony according to <em>positive right</em>. But you are mistaken;
he does not say that generally, but only of particular cases,
or, as he expresses it, <lang=la><i>in casibus a jure expressis</i></lang>, by which he
makes an exception to the general rule he had laid down in
that passage, “that it is not simony in point of conscience,”
which must imply that it is not so in point of positive right,
unless you would have Tanner made so impious as to maintain
that simony, in point of positive right, is not simony in
point of conscience. But it is easy to see your drift in mustering
up such terms as “divine right, positive right, natural
right, internal and external tribunal, expressed cases, outward
presumption,” and others equally little known; you mean to
escape under this obscurity of language, and make us lose
sight of your aberrations. But, fathers, you shall not escape
by these vain artifices; for I shall put some questions to you
so simple, that they will not admit of coming under your <lang=la><i>distinguo</i></lang>.[243]

.pm fns 243
See before, #page 73:Page_73#.
.pm fne
.bn 253.png
.pn +1

I ask you, then, without speaking of “positive rights,” of
“outward presumptions,” or “external tribunals”—I ask if,
according to your authors, a beneficiary would be simoniacal,
were he to give a benefice worth four thousand livres of yearly
rent, and to receive ten thousand francs ready money, not as
the price of the benefice, but merely as a motive inducing
him to give it? Answer me plainly, fathers: What must we
make of such a case as this according to your authors? Will
not Tanner tell us decidedly that “this is not simony in point
of conscience, seeing that the temporal good is not the price
of the benefice, but only the motive inducing to dispose of
it?” Will not Valentia, will not your own Theses of Caen,
will not Sanchez and Escobar agree in the same decision, and
give the same reason for it? Is anything more necessary to
exculpate that beneficiary from simony? And, whatever
might be your private opinion of the case, durst you deal
with that man as a simonist in your confessionals, when he
would be entitled to stop your mouth by telling you that he
acted according to the advice of so many grave doctors?
Confess candidly, then, that, according to your views, that
man would be no simonist; and, having done so, defend the
doctrine as you best can.

Such, fathers, is the true mode of treating questions, in
order to unravel, instead of perplexing them, either by scholastic
terms, or, as you have done in your last charge against
me here, by altering the state of the question. Tanner, you
say, has, at any rate, declared that such an exchange is a
great sin; and you blame me for having maliciously suppressed
this circumstance, which, you maintain, “<em>completely
justifies him</em>.” But you are wrong again, and that in more
ways than one. For, first, though what you say had been
true, it would be nothing to the point, the question in the
passage to which I referred being, not if it was <em>sin</em>, but if it
was <em>simony</em>. Now, these are two very different questions.
Sin, according to your maxims, obliges only to confession—simony
obliges to restitution; and there are people to whom
these may appear two very different things. You have found
.bn 254.png
.pn +1
expedients for making confession a very easy affair; but you
have not fallen upon ways and means to make restitution an
agreeable one. Allow me to add, that the case which Tanner
charges with sin, is not simply that in which a spiritual
good is exchanged for a temporal, the latter being the principal
end in view, but that in which the party “prizes the
temporal above the spiritual,” which is the imaginary case
already spoken of. And it must be allowed he could not go
far wrong in charging such a case as that with sin, since that
man must be either very wicked or very stupid who, when
permitted to exchange the one thing for the other, would not
avoid the sin of the transaction by such a simple process as
that of abstaining from comparing the two things together.
Besides, Valentia, in the place quoted, when treating the
question, if it be sinful to give a spiritual good for a temporal,
the latter being the main consideration, and after producing
the reasons given for the affirmative, adds, “<lang=la><i>Sed hoc
non videtur mihi satis certum</i></lang>—But this does not appear to
my mind sufficiently certain.”

Since that time, however, your father, Erade Bille, professor
of cases of conscience at Caen, has decided that there
is no sin at all in the case supposed; for probable opinions,
you know, are always in the way of advancing to maturity.[244]
This opinion he maintains in his writings of 1644, against
which M. Dupre, doctor and professor at Caen, delivered that
excellent oration, since printed and well known. For though
this Erade Bille confesses that Valentia’s doctrine, adopted
by Father Milhard, and condemned by the Sorbonne, “is
contrary to the common opinion, suspected of simony, and
punishable at law when discovered in practice,” he does not
scruple to say that it is a probable opinion, and consequently
sure in point of conscience, and that there is neither simony
nor sin in it. “It is a probable opinion,” he says, “taught
by many Catholic doctors, that there is neither any simony
<em>nor any sin</em> in giving money, or any other temporal thing, for
a benefice, either in the way of acknowledgment, or as a motive,
.bn 255.png
.pn +1
without which it would not be given, provided it is not
given as a price equal to the benefice.” This is all that could
possibly be desired. In fact, according to these maxims of
yours, simony would be so exceedingly rare; that we might
exempt from this sin even Simon Magus himself, who desired
to purchase the Holy Spirit, and is the emblem of those simonists
that buy spiritual things; and Gehazi, who took money
for a miracle, and may be regarded as the prototype of the
simonists that sell them. There can be no doubt that when
Simon, as we read in the Acts, “offered the apostles money,
saying, Give me also this power;” he said nothing about buying
or selling, or fixing the price; he did no more than offer
the money as a motive to induce them to give him that spiritual
gift; which being, according to you, no simony at all,
he might, had he but been instructed in your maxims, have
escaped the anathema of St. Peter. The same unhappy ignorance
was a great loss to Gehazi, when he was struck with
leprosy by Elisha; for, as he accepted the money from the
prince who had been miraculously cured, simply as an acknowledgment,
and not as a price equivalent to the divine
virtue which had effected the miracle, he might have insisted
on the prophet healing him again on pain of mortal sin; seeing,
on this supposition, he would have acted according to the
advice of your grave doctors, who, in such cases, oblige confessors
to absolve their penitents, and to wash them from that
spiritual leprosy of which the bodily disease is the type.

.pm fns 244
See before, #page 140:Page_140#.
.pm fne

Seriously, fathers, it would be extremely easy to hold you
up to ridicule in this matter, and I am at a loss to know why
you expose yourselves to such treatment. To produce this
effect, I have nothing more to do than simply to quote Escobar,
in his “Practice of Simony according to the Society of
Jesus;” “Is it simony when two Churchmen become mutually
pledged thus: Give me your vote for my election as
provincial, and I shall give you mine for your election as
prior? By no means.” Or take another: “It is not simony
to get possession of a benefice by promising a sum of money,
when one has no intention of actually paying the money;
.bn 256.png
.pn +1
for this is merely making a show of simony, and is as far
from being real simony as counterfeit gold is from the genuine.”
By this quirk of conscience, he has contrived means,
in the way of adding swindling to simony, for obtaining benefices
without simony and without money.

But I have no time to dwell longer on the subject, for I
must say a word or two in reply to your third accusation,
which refers to the subject of bankrupts. Nothing can be
more gross than the manner in which you have managed this
charge. You rail at me as a libeller in reference to a sentiment
of Lessius, which I did not quote myself, but took from
a passage in Escobar; and therefore, though it were true
that Lessius does not hold the opinion ascribed to him by
Escobar, what can be more unfair than to charge me with
the misrepresentation? When I quote Lessius or others of
your authors myself, I am quite prepared to answer for it;
but as Escobar has collected the opinions of twenty-four of
your writers, I beg to ask, if I am bound to guarantee anything
beyond the correctness of my citations from his book?
or if I must, in addition, answer for the fidelity of all his
quotations of which I may avail myself? This would be
hardly reasonable; and yet this is precisely the case in the
question before us. I produced in my letter the following
passage from Escobar, and you do not object to the fidelity of
my translation: “May the bankrupt, with a good conscience,
retain as much of his property as is necessary to afford him
an honorable maintenance—<lang=la><i>ne indecore vivat</i></lang>? I answer, with
Lessius, that he may—<lang=la><i>cum Lessio assero posse</i></lang>.” You tell
me that Lessius does not hold that opinion. But just consider
for a moment the predicament in which you involve
yourselves. If it turns out that he does hold that opinion,
you will be set down as impostors for having asserted the
contrary; and if it is proved that he does not hold it, Escobar
will be the impostor; so it must now of necessity follow,
that one or other of the Society will be convicted of imposture.
Only think what a scandal! You cannot, it would
appear, foresee the consequences of things. You seem to
.bn 257.png
.pn +1
imagine that you have nothing more to do than to cast aspersions
upon people, without considering on whom they
may recoil. Why did you not acquaint Escobar with your
objection before venturing to publish it? He might have
given you satisfaction. It is not so very troublesome to get
word from Valladolid, where he is living in perfect health,
and completing his grand work on Moral Theology, in six
volumes, on the first of which I mean to say a few words by-and-by.
They have sent him the first ten letters; you might
as easily have sent him your objection, and I am sure he
would have soon returned you an answer, for he has doubtless
seen in Lessius the passage from which he took the <lang=la><i>ne
indecore vivat</i></lang>. Read him yourselves, fathers, and you will
find it word for word, as I have done. Here it is: “The
same thing is apparent from the authorities cited, particularly
in regard to that property which he acquires after his failure,
out of which even the delinquent debtor may retain as much
as is necessary for his honorable maintenance, according to his
station of life—<lang=la><i>ut non indecore vivat</i></lang>. Do you ask if this
rule applies to goods which he possessed at the time of his
failure? Such seems to be the judgment of the doctors.”

I shall not stop here to show how Lessius, to sanction his
maxim, perverts the law that allows bankrupts nothing more
than a mere livelihood, and that makes no provision for “honorable
maintenance.” It is enough to have vindicated Escobar
from such an accusation—it is more, indeed, than what
I was in duty bound to do. But you, fathers, have not done
your duty. It still remains for you to answer the passage
of Escobar, whose decisions, by the way, have this advantage,
that being entirely independent of the context, and condensed
in little articles, they are not liable to your distinctions.
I quoted the whole of the passage, in which “bankrupts
are permitted to keep their goods, though unjustly
acquired, to provide an honorable maintenance for their families”—commenting
on which in my letters, I exclaim: “Indeed,
father! by what strange kind of charity would you
have the ill-gotten property of a bankrupt appropriated to
.bn 258.png
.pn +1
his own use, instead of that of his lawful creditors?”[245] This
is the question which must be answered; but it is one that
involves you in a sad dilemma, and from which you in vain
seek to escape by altering the state of the question, and
quoting other passages from Lessius, which have no connection
with the subject. I ask you, then, May this maxim of
Escobar be followed by bankrupts with a safe conscience, or
no? And take care what you say. If you answer, No,
what becomes of your doctor, and your doctrine of probability?
If you say, Yes—I delate you to the Parliament.[246]

.pm fns 245
See before, #p. 177:Page_177#.
.pm fne

.pm fns 246
“The Parliament of Paris was originally the court of the kings of
France, to which they committed the supreme administration of justice.”
(Robertson’s Charles V., vol. i. 171.)
.pm fne

In this predicament I must now leave you, fathers; for
my limits will not permit me to overtake your next accusation,
which respects homicide. This will serve for my next
letter, and the rest will follow.

In the mean while, I shall make no remarks on the advertisements
which you have tagged to the end of each of your
charges, filled as they are with scandalous falsehoods. I
mean to answer all these in a separate letter, in which I hope
to show the weight due to your calumnies. I am sorry
fathers, that you should have recourse to such desperate resources.
The abusive terms which you heap on me will not
clear up our disputes, nor will your manifold threats hinder
me from defending myself. You think you have power and
impunity on your side; and I think that I have truth and innocence
on mine. It is a strange and tedious war, when violence
attempts to vanquish truth. All the efforts of violence
cannot weaken truth, and only serve to give it fresh vigor.
All the lights of truth cannot arrest violence, and only serve
to exasperate it. When force meets force, the weaker must
succumb to the stronger; when argument is opposed to argument,
the solid and the convincing triumphs over the
empty and the false; but violence and verity can make no impression
on each other. Let none suppose, however, that
the two are, therefore, equal to each other; for there is this
.bn 259.png
.pn +1
vast difference between them, that violence has only a certain
course to run, limited by the appointment of Heaven, which
overrules its effects to the glory of the truth which it assails;
whereas verity endures forever, and eventually triumphs
over its enemies, being eternal and almighty as God himself.[247]

.pm fns 247
In most of the French editions, another letter is inserted after this,
being a refutation of a reply which appeared at the time to Letter xii.
But as this letter, though well written, was not written by Pascal, and
as it does not contain anything that would now be interesting to the
reader, we omit it. Suffice it to say, that the reply of the Jesuits consisted,
as usual, of the most barefaced attempts to fix the charge of misrepresentation
on their opponent, accusing him of omitting to quote passages
from his authors which they never wrote, of not answering objections
which were never brought against him, of not adverting to cases
which neither he nor his authors dreamt of—in short, like all Jesuitical
answers, it is anything and everything but a refutation of the charges
which have been substantiated against them.
.pm fne

.fm lz=t

.bn 260.png
.pn +1

.sp 4
.h2
LETTER XIII.

.ce
TO THE REVEREND FATHERS OF THE SOCIETY OF JESUS.

.fs 80%
.in +3
.ti -3
THE DOCTRINE OF LESSIUS ON HOMICIDE THE SAME WITH THAT
OF VALENTIA—HOW EASY IT IS TO PASS FROM SPECULATION TO
PRACTICE—WHY THE JESUITS HAVE RECOURSE TO THIS DISTINCTION,
AND HOW LITTLE IT SERVES FOR THEIR VINDICATION.
.in
.fs

.sp 2

.rj
<i>September 30, 1656.</i>

<sc>Reverend Fathers</sc>,—I have just seen your last production,
in which you have continued your list of Impostures up
to the twentieth, and intimate that you mean to conclude with
this the first part of your accusations against me, and to proceed
to the second, in which you are to adopt a new mode of
defence, by showing that there are other casuists besides those
of your Society who are as lax as yourselves. I now see the
precise number of charges to which I have to reply; and as
the fourth, to which we have now come, relates to homicide,
it may be proper, in answering it, to include the 11th, 13th,
14th, 15th, 16th, 17th, and 18th, which refer to the same
subject.

In the present letter, therefore, my object shall be to vindicate
the correctness of my quotations from the charges of
falsity which you bring against me. But as you have ventured,
in your pamphlets, to assert that “the sentiments of
your authors on murder are agreeable to the decisions of
popes and ecclesiastical laws,” you will compel me, in my
next letter, to confute a statement at once so unfounded and
so injurious to the Church. It is of some importance to show
that she is innocent of your corruptions, in order that heretics
may be prevented from taking advantage of your aberrations,
.bn 261.png
.pn +1
to draw conclusions tending to her dishonor.[248] And thus,
viewing on the one hand your pernicious maxims, and on the
other the canons of the Church which have uniformly condemned
them, people will see, at one glance, what they should
shun and what they should follow.

.pm fns 248
The Church of Rome has not left those whom she terms heretics so
doubtfully to “take advantage” of Jesuitical aberrations. She has done
everything in her power to <em>give</em> them this advantage. By identifying
herself, at various times, with the Jesuits, she has virtually stamped
their doctrines with her approbation.
.pm fne

Your fourth charge turns on a maxim relating to murder,
which you say I have falsely ascribed to Lessius. It is as
follows: “That if a man has received a buffet, he may immediately
pursue his enemy, and even return the blow with
the sword, not to avenge himself, but to retrieve his honor.”
This, you say, is the opinion of the casuist Victoria. But this
is nothing to the point. There is no inconsistency in saying,
that it is at once the opinion of Victoria and of Lessius; for
Lessius himself says that it is also held by Navarre and Henriquez,
who teach identically the same doctrine. The only
question, then, is, if Lessius holds this view as well as his
brother casuists. You maintain “that Lessius quotes this
opinion solely for the purpose of refuting it, and that I therefore
attribute to him a sentiment which he produces only to
overthrow—the basest and most disgraceful act of which a
writer can be guilty.” Now I maintain, fathers, that he
quotes the opinion solely for the purpose of supporting it.
Here is a question of fact, which it will be very easy to settle.
Let us see, then, how you prove your allegation, and you will
see afterwards how I prove mine.

To show that Lessius is not of that opinion, you tell us
that he condemns the practice of it; and in proof of this,
you quote one passage of his (l. 2, c. 9, n. 92), in which he
says, in so many words, “I condemn the practice of it.” I
grant that, on looking for these words, at number 92, to
which you refer, they will be found there. But what will
people say, fathers, when they discover, at the same time,
that he is treating in that place of a question totally different
.bn 262.png
.pn +1
from that of which we are speaking, and that the opinion of
which he there says that he condemns the practice, has no
connection with that now in dispute, but is quite distinct?
And yet to be convinced that this is the fact, we have only
to open the book to which you refer, and there we find the
whole subject in its connection as follows: At number 79 he
treats the question, “If it is lawful to kill for a buffet?” and
at number 80 he finishes this matter without a single word
of condemnation. Having disposed of <em>this</em> question, he opens
a new one at art. 81, namely, “If it is lawful to kill for
slanders?” and it is when speaking of this question that he
employs the words you have quoted—“I condemn the practice
of it.”

Is it not shameful, fathers, that you should venture to produce
these words to make it be believed that Lessius condemns
the opinion that it is lawful to kill for a buffet? and that, on
the ground of this single proof, you should chuckle over it,
as you have done, by saying: “Many persons of honor in
Paris have already discovered this notorious falsehood by
consulting Lessius, and have thus ascertained the degree of
credit due to that slanderer?” Indeed! and is it thus that
you abuse the confidence which those persons of honor repose
in you? To show them that Lessius does not hold a
certain opinion, you open the book to them at a place where
he is condemning another opinion; and these persons not
having begun to mistrust your good faith, and never thinking
of examining whether the author speaks in that place of the
subject in dispute, you impose on their credulity. I make no
doubt, fathers, that to shelter yourselves from the guilt of
such a scandalous lie, you had recourse to your doctrine of
equivocations; and that, having read the passage <em>in a loud
voice</em>, you would say, <em>in a lower key</em>, that the author was
speaking there of something else. But I am not so sure
whether this saving clause, which is quite enough to satisfy
your consciences, will be a very satisfactory answer to the
just complaint of those “honorable persons,” when they
shall discover that you have hoodwinked them in this style.
.bn 263.png
.pn +1

Take care, then, fathers, to prevent them by all means
from seeing my letters; for this is the only method now
left you to preserve your credit for a short time longer. This
is not the way in which I deal with your writings: I send
them to all my friends: I wish everybody to see them. And
I verily believe that both of us are in the right for our own
interests; for after having published with such parade this
fourth Imposture, were it once discovered that you have
made it up by foisting in one passage for another, you would
be instantly denounced. It will be easily seen, that if you
could have found what you wanted in the passage where
Lessius treated of this matter, you would not have searched
for it elsewhere, and that you had recourse to such a trick
only because you could find nothing in that passage favorable
to your purpose.

You would have us believe that we may find in Lessius
what you assert, “that he does <em>not</em> allow that this opinion
(that a man may be lawfully killed for a buffet) is probable
in theory;” whereas Lessius distinctly declares, at number
80: “This opinion, that a man may kill for a buffet, <em>is</em> probable
in theory.” Is not this, word for word, the reverse of
your assertion? And can we sufficiently admire the hardihood
with which you have advanced, in set phrase, the very
reverse of a matter of fact! To your conclusion, from a
fabricated passage, that Lessius was <em>not</em> of that opinion, we
have only to place Lessius himself, who, in the genuine passage,
declares that he is of that opinion.

Again, you would have Lessius to say “that he condemns
the practice of it;” and, as I have just observed, there is
not in the original a single word of condemnation; all that he
says is: “It appears that it ought not to be <sc>EASILY</sc> permitted
in practice—<lang=la><i>In praxi non videtur <sc>FACILE</sc> permittenda</i></lang>.”
Is that, fathers, the language of a man who <em>condemns</em> a
maxim? Would you say that adultery and incest ought not
to be <em>easily permitted</em> in practice? Must we not, on the contrary,
conclude, that as Lessius says no more than that the
practice ought not to be easily permitted, his opinion is, that
.bn 264.png
.pn +1
it may be permitted sometimes, though rarely? And, as if
he had been anxious to apprize everybody when it might be
permitted, and to relieve those who have received affronts
from being troubled with unreasonable scruples, from not
knowing on what occasions they might lawfully kill in practice,
he has been at pains to inform them what they ought to
avoid in order to practise the doctrine with a safe conscience.
Mark his words: “It seems,” says he, “that it ought not to
be easily permitted, <em>because</em> of the danger that persons may
act in this matter out of hatred or revenge, or with excess, or
that this may occasion too many murders.” From this it
appears that murder is freely permitted by Lessius, if one
avoids the inconveniences referred to—in other words, if one
can act without hatred or revenge, and in circumstances that
may not open the door to a great many murders. To illustrate
the matter, I may give you an example of recent occurrence—the
case of the buffet of Compiègne.[249] You will grant
that the person who received the blow on that occasion has
shown by the way in which he has acted, that he was sufficiently
master of the passions of hatred and revenge. It
only remained for him, therefore, to see that he did not give
occasion to too many murders; and you need hardly be told,
fathers, it is such a rare spectacle to find Jesuits bestowing
buffets on the officers of the royal household, that he had no
great reason to fear that a murder committed on this occasion
would be likely to draw many others in its train. You
cannot, accordingly, deny that the Jesuit who figured on
that occasion was <em>killable</em> with a safe conscience, and that the
offended party might have converted him into a practical
illustration of the doctrine of Lessius. And very likely, fathers,
this might have been the result had he been educated
in your school, and learnt from Escobar that the man who
.bn 265.png
.pn +1
has received a buffet is held to be disgraced until he has
taken the life of him who insulted him. But there is ground
to believe, that the very different instructions which he received
from a curate, who is no great favorite of yours, have
contributed not a little in this case to save the life of a Jesuit.

.pm fns 249
The reference here is to an affray which made a considerable noise
at the time, between Father Borin, a Jesuit, and M. Guille, one of the
officers of the royal kitchen, in the College of Compiègne. A quarrel
having taken place, the enraged Jesuit struck the royal cook in the face
while he was in the act of preparing dinner, by his majesty’s order, for
Christina, queen of Sweden, in honor, perhaps, of her conversion to
the Romish faith. (Nicole, iv. 37)
.pm fne

Tell us no more, then, of inconveniences which may, in
many instances, be so easily got over, and in the absence of
which, according to Lessius, murder is permissible even in
practice. This is frankly avowed by your authors, as quoted
by Escobar, in his “Practice of Homicide, according to your
Society.” “Is it allowable,” asks this casuist, “to kill him
who has given me a buffet? Lessius says it is permissible in
speculation, though not to be followed in practice—<lang=la><i>non consulendum
in praxi</i></lang>—on account of the risk of hatred, or of
murders prejudicial to the State. Others, however, have
judged that, <sc>BY AVOIDING THESE INCONVENIENCES, THIS IS
PERMISSIBLE AND SAFE IN PRACTICE</sc>—<lang=la><i>in praxi probabilem et
tutam judicarunt Henriquez</i></lang>,” &c. See how your opinions
mount up, by little and little, to the climax of probabilism!
The present one you have at last elevated to this position, by
permitting murder without any distinction between speculation
and practice, in the following terms: “It is lawful, when
one has received a buffet, to return the blow immediately
with the sword, not to avenge one’s self, but to preserve one’s
honor.” Such is the decision of your fathers of Caen in
1644, embodied in their publications produced by the university
before parliament, when they presented their third
remonstrance against your doctrine of homicide, as shown in
the book then emitted by them, at page 339.

Mark, then, fathers, that your own authors have themselves
demolished this absurd distinction between speculative and
practical murder—a distinction which the university treated
with ridicule, and the invention of which is a secret of your
policy, which it may now be worth while to explain. The
knowledge of it, besides being necessary to the right understanding
of your 15th, 16th, 17th, and 18th charges, is well
.bn 266.png
.pn +1
calculated, in general, to open up, by little and little, the
principles of that mysterious policy.

In attempting, as you have done, to decide cases of conscience
in the most agreeable and accommodating manner,
while you met with some questions in which religion alone
was concerned—such as those of contrition, penance, love to
God, and others only affecting the inner court of conscience—you
encountered another class of cases in which civil society
was interested as well as religion—such as those relating
to usury, bankruptcy, homicide, and the like. And it is
truly distressing to all that love the Church, to observe that,
in a vast number of instances, in which you had only Religion
to contend with, you have violated her laws without reservation,
without distinction, and without compunction; because
you knew that it is not here that God visibly administers his
justice. But in those cases in which the State is interested
as well as Religion, your apprehension of man’s justice has
induced you to divide your decisions into two shares. To
the first of these you give the name of <em>speculation</em>; under
which category crimes, considered in themselves, without regard
to society, but merely to the law of God, you have
permitted, without the least scruple, and in the way of trampling
on the divine law which condemns them. The second
you rank under the denomination of <em>practice</em>; and here, considering
the injury which may be done to society, and the
presence of magistrates who look after the public peace, you
take care, in order to keep yourselves on the safe side of the
law, not to approve always in practice the murders and other
crimes which you have sanctioned in speculation. Thus, for
example, on the question, “If it be lawful to kill for slanders?”
your authors, Filiutius, Reginald, and others, reply:
“This is permitted in speculation—<lang=la><i>ex probabile opinione licet</i></lang>;
but is not to be approved in <em>practice</em>, on account of the great
number of murders which might ensue, and which might
injure the State, if all slanderers were to be killed, <em>and also
because one might be punished in a court of justice for having
killed another for that matter</em>.” Such is the style in which
.bn 267.png
.pn +1
your opinions begin to develop themselves, under the shelter
of this distinction, in virtue of which, without doing any
sensible injury to society, you only ruin religion. In acting
thus, you consider yourselves quite safe. You suppose that,
on the one hand, the influence you have in the Church will
effectually shield from punishment your assaults on truth;
and that, on the other, the precautions you have taken against
too easily reducing your permissions to practice will save you
on the part of the civil powers, who, not being judges in
cases of conscience, are properly concerned only with the
outward practice. Thus an opinion which would be condemned
under the name of practice, comes out quite safe
under the name of speculation. But this basis once established,
it is not difficult to erect on it the rest of your maxims.
There is an infinite distance between God’s prohibition
of murder, and your speculative permission of the crime; but
between that permission and the practice the distance is very
small indeed. It only remains to show, that what is allowable
in speculation is also so in practice; and there can be no
want of reasons for this. You have contrived to find them
in far more difficult cases. Would you like to see, fathers,
how this may be managed? I refer you to the reasoning of
Escobar, who has distinctly decided the point in the first of
the six volumes of his grand Moral Theology, of which I have
already spoken—a work in which he shows quite another
spirit from that which appears in his former compilation from
your four-and-twenty elders. At that time he thought that
there might be opinions probable in speculation, which might
not be safe in practice; but he has now come to form an opposite
judgment, and has, in this, his latest work, confirmed
it. Such is the wonderful growth attained by the doctrine
of probability in general, as well as by every probable opinion
in particular, in the course of time. Attend, then, to what
he says: “I cannot see how it can be that an action which
seems allowable in speculation should not be so likewise in
practice; because what may be done in practice depends on
what is found to be lawful in speculation, and the things
.bn 268.png
.pn +1
differ from each other only as cause and effect. Speculation
is that which determines to action. <sc>Whence it follows
that opinions probable in speculation may be followed
with a safe conscience in practice</sc>, and that even with
more safety than those which have not been so well examined
as matters of speculation.”[250]

.pm fns 250
In Prælog., n. 15.
.pm fne

Verily, fathers, your friend Escobar reasons uncommonly
well sometimes; and, in point of fact, there is such a close
connection between speculation and practice, that when the
former has once taken root, you have no difficulty in permitting
the latter, without any disguise. A good illustration
of this we have in the permission “to kill for a buffet,” which,
from being a point of simple speculation, was boldly raised
by Lessius into a practice “which ought not easily to be allowed;”
from that promoted by Escobar to the character of
“an easy practice;” and from thence elevated by your fathers
of Caen, as we have seen, without any distinction between
theory and practice, into a full permission. Thus you bring
your opinions to their full growth very gradually. Were
they presented all at once in their finished extravagance,
they would beget horror; but this slow imperceptible progress
gradually habituates men to the sight of them, and
hides their offensiveness. And in this way the permission
to murder, in itself so odious both to Church and State, creeps
first into the Church, and then from the Church into the
State.

A similar success has attended the opinion of “killing for
slander,” which has now reached the climax of a permission
without any distinction. I should not have stopped to quote
my authorities on this point from your writings, had it not
been necessary in order to put down the effrontery with
which you have asserted, twice over, in your fifteenth Imposture,
“that there never was a Jesuit who permitted killing
for slander.” Before making this statement, fathers, you
should have taken care to prevent it from coming under my
notice, seeing that it is so easy for me to answer it. For,
.bn 269.png
.pn +1
not to mention that your fathers Reginald, Filiutius, and others,
have permitted it in speculation, as I have already shown,
and that the principle laid down by Escobar leads us safely
on to the practice, I have to tell you that you have authors
who have permitted it in so many words, and among others
Father Hereau in his public lectures, on the conclusion of
which the king put him under arrest in your house, for having
taught, among other errors, that when a person who has
slandered us in the presence of men of honor, continues to
do so after being warned to desist, it is allowable to kill him,
not publicly, indeed, for fear of scandal, but <sc>IN A PRIVATE
WAY</sc>—<lang=la><i>sed clam</i></lang>.

I have had occasion already to mention Father Lamy, and
you do not need to be informed that his doctrine on this subject
was censured in 1649 by the University of Louvain.[251]
And yet two months have not elapsed since your Father Des
Bois maintained this very censured doctrine of Father Lamy,
and taught that “it was allowable for a monk to defend the
honor which he acquired by his virtue, <sc>EVEN BY KILLING</sc> the
person who assails his reputation—<lang=la><i>etiam cum morte invasoris</i></lang>;”
which has raised such a scandal in that town, that the
whole of the curés united to impose silence on him, and to
oblige him, by a canonical process, to retract his doctrine.
The case is now pending in the Episcopal court.

.pm fns 251
The doctrines advanced by Lamy are too gross for repetition. Suffice
it to say, that they sanctioned the murder not only of the slanderer,
but of the person who might tell tales against a religious order, of one
who might stand in the way of another enjoying a legacy or a benefice,
and even of one whom a priest might have robbed of her honor, if she
threatened to rob him of his. These horrid maxims were condemned
by civil tribunals and theological faculties; but the Jesuits persisted in
justifying them. (Nicole, Notes, iv. 41, &c.)
.pm fne

What say you now, fathers? Why attempt, after that,
to maintain that “no Jesuit ever held that it was lawful to
kill for slander?” Is anything more necessary to convince
you of this than the very opinions of your fathers which you
quote, since they do not condemn murder in speculation, but
only in practice, and that, too, “on account of the injury
that might thereby accrue to the State?” And here I would
.bn 270.png
.pn +1
just beg to ask, whether the whole matter in dispute between
us is not simply and solely to ascertain if you have or have
not subverted the law of God which condemns murder? The
point in question is, not whether you have injured the commonwealth,
but whether you have injured religion. What
purpose, then, can it serve, in a dispute of this kind, to show
that you have spared the State, when you make it apparent,
at the same time, that you have destroyed the faith? Is
this not evident from your saying that the meaning of Reginald,
on the question of killing for slanders, is, “that a private
individual has a right to employ that mode of defence,
viewing it simply <em>in itself</em>?” I desire nothing beyond this
concession to confute you. “A private individual,” you say,
“has a right to employ that mode of defence” (that is, killing
for slanders), “viewing the thing in itself;” and, consequently,
fathers, the law of God, which forbids us to kill, is
nullified by that decision.

It serves no purpose to add, as you have done, “that such
a mode is unlawful and criminal, even according to the law
of God, on account of the murders and disorders which
would follow in society, because the law of God obliges us
to have regard to the good of society.” This is to evade
the question: for there are two laws to be observed—one
forbidding us to kill, and another forbidding us to harm society.
Reginald has not, perhaps, broken the law which forbids
us to do harm to society; but he has most certainly
violated that which forbids us to kill. Now this is the only
point with which we have to do. I might have shown, besides,
that your other writers, who have permitted these
murders in practice, have subverted the one law as well as
the other. But, to proceed, we have seen that you <em>sometimes</em>
forbid doing harm to the State; and you allege that your
design in that is to fulfil the law of God, which obliges us to
consult the interests of society. That may be true, though
it is far from being certain, as you might do the same thing
purely from fear of the civil magistrate. With your permission,
.bn 271.png
.pn +1
then, we shall scrutinize the real secret of this movement.

Is it not certain, fathers, that if you had really any regard
to God, and if the observance of his law had been the prime
and principal object in your thoughts, this respect would
have invariably predominated in all your leading decisions,
and would have engaged you at all times on the side of religion?
But if it turns out, on the contrary, that you violate,
in innumerable instances, the most sacred commands that
God has laid upon men, and that, as in the instances before
us, you annihilate the law of God, which forbids these actions
as criminal in themselves, and that you only scruple to
approve of them in practice, from bodily fear of the civil
magistrate, do you not afford us ground to conclude that you
have no respect to God in your apprehensions, and that if
you yield an apparent obedience to his law, in so far as regards
the obligation to do no harm to the State, this is not
done out of any regard to the law itself, but to compass
your own ends, as has ever been the way with politicians of
no religion?

What, fathers! will you tell us that, looking simply to the
law of God, which says, “Thou shalt not kill,” we have a
right to kill for slanders? And after having thus trampled
on the eternal law of God, do you imagine that you atone
for the scandal you have caused, and can persuade us of your
reverence for him, by adding that you prohibit the practice
for State reasons, and from dread of the civil arm? Is not
this, on the contrary, to raise a fresh scandal?—I mean not
by the respect which you testify for the magistrate; that is
not my charge against you, and it is ridiculous in you to banter,
as you have done, on this matter. I blame you, not for
fearing the magistrate, but for fearing none but the magistrate.
And I blame you for this, because it is making God
less the enemy of vice than man. Had you said that to kill
for slander was allowable according to men, but not according
to God, that might have been something more endurable;
but when you maintain, that what is too criminal to be tolerated
.bn 272.png
.pn +1
among men, may yet be innocent and right in the eyes
of that Being who is righteousness itself, what is this but to
declare before the whole world, by a subversion of principle
as shocking in itself as it is alien to the spirit of the saints,
that while you can be braggarts before God, you are cowards
before men?

Had you really been anxious to condemn these homicides,
you would have allowed the commandment of God which
forbids them to remain intact; and had you dared at once to
permit them, you would have permitted them openly, in spite
of the laws of God and men. But your object being to permit
them imperceptibly, and to cheat the magistrate, who
watches over the public safety, you have gone craftily to
work. You separate your maxims into two portions. On
the one side, you hold out “that it is lawful in speculation to
kill a man for slander;”—and nobody thinks of hindering
you from taking a speculative view of matters. On the other
side, you come out with this detached axiom, “that what is
permitted in speculation is also permissible in practice;”—and
what concern does society seem to have in this general
and metaphysical-looking proposition? And thus these two
principles, so little suspected, being embraced in their separate
form, the vigilance of the magistrate is eluded; while
it is only necessary to combine the two together, to draw
from them the conclusion which you aim at—namely, that
it is lawful in practice to put a man to death for a simple
slander.

It is, indeed, fathers, one of the most subtle tricks of your
policy, to scatter through your publications the maxims
which you club together in your decisions. It is partly in
this way that you establish your doctrine of probabilities,
which I have frequently had occasion to explain. That general
principle once established, you advance propositions
harmless enough when viewed apart, but which, when taken
in connection with that pernicious dogma, become positively
horrible. An example of this, which demands an answer,
may be found in the 11th page of your “Impostures,” where
.bn 273.png
.pn +1
you allege that “several famous theologians have decided
that it is lawful to kill a man for a box on the ear.” Now,
it is certain, that if that had been said by a person who did
not hold probabilism, there would be nothing to find fault
with in it; it would in this case amount to no more than a
harmless statement, and nothing could be elicited from it.
But you, fathers, and all who hold that dangerous tenet,
“that whatever has been approved by celebrated authors is
probable and safe in conscience,” when <em>you</em> add to this “that
several celebrated authors are of opinion that it is lawful to
kill a man for a box on the ear,” what is this but to put a
dagger into the hand of all Christians, for the purpose of
plunging it into the heart of the first person that insults them,
and to assure them that, having the judgment of so many
grave authors on their side, they may do so with a perfectly
safe conscience?

What monstrous species of language is this, which, in announcing
that certain authors hold a detestable opinion, is at
the same time giving a decision in favor of that opinion—which
solemnly teaches whatever it simply tells! We have
learnt, fathers, to understand this peculiar dialect of the
Jesuitical school; and it is astonishing that you have the
hardihood to speak it out so freely, for it betrays your sentiments
somewhat too broadly. It convicts you of permitting
murder for a buffet, as often as you repeat that many celebrated
authors have maintained that opinion.

This charge, fathers, you will never be able to repel; nor
will you be much helped out by those passages from Vasquez
and Suarez that you adduce against me, in which they
condemn the murders which their associates have approved.
These testimonies, disjoined from the rest of your doctrine,
may hoodwink those who know little about it; but we, who
know better, put your principles and maxims together. You
say, then, that Vasquez condemns murders; but what say
you on the other side of the question, my reverend fathers?
Why, “that the probability of one sentiment does not hinder
the probability of the opposite sentiment; and that it is warrantable
.bn 274.png
.pn +1
to follow the less probable and less safe opinion,
giving up the more probable and more safe one.” What follows
from all this taken in connection, but that we have perfect
freedom of conscience to adopt any one of these conflicting
judgments which pleases us best? And what becomes
of all the effect which you fondly anticipate from your quotations?
It evaporates in smoke, for we have no more to do
than to conjoin for your condemnation the maxims which you
have disjoined for your exculpation. Why, then, produce
those passages of your authors which I have not quoted, to
qualify those which I have quoted, as if the one could excuse
the other? What right does that give you to call me an
“impostor?” Have I said that all your fathers are implicated
in the same corruptions? Have I not, on the contrary,
been at pains to show that your interest lay in having them
of all different minds, in order to suit all your purposes?
Do you wish to kill your man?—here is Lessius for you.
Are you inclined to spare him?—here is Vasquez. Nobody
need go away in ill humor—nobody without the authority of
a grave doctor. Lessius will talk to you like a Heathen on
homicide, and like a Christian, it may be, on charity. Vasquez,
again, will descant like a Heathen on charity, and like
a Christian on homicide. But by means of probabilism,
which is held both by Vasquez and Lessius, and which
renders all your opinions common property, they will lend
their opinions to one another, and each will be held bound to
absolve those who have acted according to opinions which
each of them has condemned. It is this very variety, then,
that confounds you. Uniformity, even in evil, would be
better than this. Nothing is more contrary to the orders
of St. Ignatius[252] and the first generals of your Society, than
.bn 275.png
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this confused medley of all sorts of opinions, good and bad.
I may, perhaps, enter on this topic at some future period;
and it will astonish many to see how far you have degenerated
from the original spirit of your institution, and that your
own generals have foreseen that the corruption of your doctrine
on morals might prove fatal, not only to your Society,
but to the Church universal.[253]

.pm fns 252
It is very sad to see Pascal reduced to the necessity of saluting the
founder of the sect which he held up to the scorn of the world, as <em>Saint
Ignatius</em>! Ignatius Loyola was a native of Spain, and born in 1491.
At first a soldier of fortune, he was disabled from service by a wound
in the leg at the siege of Pampeluna, and his brain having become heated
by reading romances and legendary tales, he took it into his head to
become the Don Quixote of the Virgin, and wage war against all heretics
and infidels. By indomitable perseverance he succeeded in establishing
the sect calling itself “the Society of Jesus.” This ignorant
fanatic, who, in more enlightened times, would have been consigned to
a mad-house, was beatified by one pope, and canonized, or put into the
list of saints, by another! Jansenius, in his correspondence with St.
Cyran, indignantly complains of pope Gregory XV. for having canonized
Ignatius and Xavier. (Leydecker, Hist. Jansen. 23.)
.pm fne

.pm fns 253
This is rather a singular fact, and applies only to one of the Society’s
generals, viz., Vitelleschi, who, in a circular letter, addressed,
January 1617, to the Company, much to his own honor, strongly recommended
a purer morality, and denounced probabilism. But, says
Nicole, the Jesuits did not profit by his good advice. (Nicole, iv., p.
33.) It is true, however, that the Jesuits, during this century, had lost
sight of the original design of their order, and of all the ascetic rules of
their founders, Ignatius and Aquaviva. “The spirit which once animated
them had fallen before the temptations of the world, and their
sole endeavor now was to make themselves necessary to mankind, let
the means be what they might.” (Ranke’s Hist. of the Popes, iii. 139.)
.pm fne

Meanwhile, I repeat that you can derive no advantage from
the doctrine of Vasquez. It would be strange, indeed, if,
out of all the Jesuits that have written on morals, one or two
could not be found who may have hit upon a truth which has
been confessed by all Christians. There is no glory in maintaining
the truth, according to the Gospel, that it is unlawful
to kill a man for smiting us on the face; but it is foul shame
to deny it. So far, indeed, from justifying you, nothing tells
more fatally against you than the fact that, having doctors
among you who have told you the truth, you abide not in the
truth, but love the darkness rather than the light. You have
been taught by Vasquez that it is a heathen, and not a Christian,
opinion to hold that we may knock down a man for a
blow on the cheek; and that it is subversive both of the Gospel
and of the decalogue to say that we may kill for such a
matter. The most profligate of men will acknowledge as
much. And yet you have allowed Lessius, Escobar, and others,
to decide, in the face of these well-known truths, and in
.bn 276.png
.pn +1
spite of all the laws of God against manslaughter, that it is
quite allowable to kill a man for a buffet!

What purpose, then, can it serve to set this passage of Vasquez
over against the sentiment of Lessius, unless you mean
to show that, in the opinion of Vasquez, Lessius is a “heathen”
and a “profligate?” and that, fathers, is more than I
durst have said myself. What else can be deduced from it
than that Lessius “subverts both the Gospel and the decalogue;”
that, at the last day, Vasquez will condemn Lessius
on this point, as Lessius will condemn Vasquez on another;
and that all your fathers will rise up in judgment one against
another, mutually condemning each other for their sad outrages
on the law of Jesus Christ?

To this conclusion, then, reverend fathers, must we come
at length, that as your probabilism renders the good opinions
of some of your authors useless to the Church, and useful
only to your policy, they merely serve to betray, by their
contrariety, the duplicity of your hearts. This you have
completely unfolded, by telling us, on the one hand, that
Vasquez and Suarez are against homicide, and on the other
hand, that many celebrated authors are for homicide; thus
presenting two roads to our choice, and destroying the simplicity
of the Spirit of God, who denounces his anathema on
the deceitful and the double-hearted: “<lang=la><i>Væ duplici corde, et
ingredienti duabus viis!</i></lang>—Woe be to the double hearts, and
the sinner that goeth two ways!”[254]

.pm fns 254
Ecclesiasticus (Apocrypha), ii. 12.
.pm fne

.fm lz=t

.bn 277.png
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.sp 4
.h2
LETTER XIV.

.ce
TO THE REVEREND FATHERS, THE JESUITS.

.fs 80%
.in +3
.ti -3
IN WHICH THE MAXIMS OF THE JESUITS ON MURDER ARE REFUTED
FROM THE FATHERS—SOME OF THEIR CALUMNIES ANSWERED BY
THE WAY—AND THEIR DOCTRINE COMPARED WITH THE FORMS
OBSERVED IN CRIMINAL TRIALS.
.in
.fs

.sp 2

.rj
<i>October 23, 1656.</i>

<sc>Reverend Fathers</sc>,—If I had merely to reply to the three
remaining charges on the subject of homicide, there would
be no need for a long discourse, and you will see them refuted
presently in a few words; but as I think it of much more
importance to inspire the public with a horror at your opinions
on this subject, than to justify the fidelity of my quotations,
I shall be obliged to devote the greater part of this letter
to the refutation of your maxims, to show you how far
you have departed from the sentiments of the Church, and
even of nature itself. The permissions of murder, which you
have granted in such a variety of cases, render it very apparent,
that you have so far forgotten the law of God, and
quenched the light of nature, as to require to be remanded to
the simplest principles of religion and of common sense.

What can be a plainer dictate of nature than that “no private
individual has a right to take away the life of another?”
“So well are we taught this of ourselves,” says St. Chrysostom,
“that God, in giving the commandment not to kill, did
not add as a reason that homicide was an evil; because,”
says that father, “the law supposes that nature has taught
us that truth already.” Accordingly, this commandment
has been binding on men in all ages. The Gospel has confirmed
the requirement of the law; and the decalogue only
.bn 278.png
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renewed the command which man had received from God
before the law, in the person of Noah, from whom all men
are descended. On that renovation of the world, God said
to the patriarch: “At the hand of man, and at the hand of
every man’s brother, will I require the life of man. Whoso
sheddeth man’s blood, by man shall his blood be shed; for
man is made in the image of God.” (Gen. ix. 5, 6.) This
general prohibition deprives man of all power over the life
of man. And so exclusively has the Almighty reserved this
prerogative in his own hand, that, in accordance with Christianity,
which is at utter variance with the false maxims of
Paganism, man has no power even over his own life. But, as
it has seemed good to his providence to take human society
under his protection, and to punish the evil-doers that give it
disturbance, he has himself established laws for depriving
criminals of life; and thus those executions which, without
his sanction, would be punishable outrages, become, by virtue
of his authority, which is the rule of justice, praiseworthy
penalties. St. Augustine takes an admirable view of this
subject. “God,” he says, “has himself qualified this general
prohibition against manslaughter, both by the laws which
he has instituted for the capital punishment of malefactors,
and by the special orders which he has sometimes issued to
put to death certain individuals. And when death is inflicted
in such cases, it is not man that kills, but God, of whom man
may be considered as only the instrument, in the same way
as a sword in the hand of him that wields it. But, these
instances excepted, whosoever kills incurs the guilt of murder.”[255]

.pm fns 255
City of God, book i. ch. 28.
.pm fne

It appears, then, fathers, that the right of taking away the
life of man is the sole prerogative of God, and that having
ordained laws for executing death on criminals, he has deputed
kings or commonwealths as the depositaries of that power—a
truth which St. Paul teaches us, when, speaking of the
right which sovereigns possess over the lives of their subjects,
he deduces it from Heaven in these words: “He beareth
.bn 279.png
.pn +1
not the sword in vain; for he is the minister of God to
execute wrath upon him that doeth evil.” (Rom. xiii. 4.)
But as it is God who has put this power into their hands, so
he requires them to exercise it in the same manner as he does
himself; in other words, with perfect justice; according to
what St. Paul observes in the same passage: “Rulers are not
a terror to good works, but to the evil. Wilt thou, then, not
be afraid of the power? Do that which is good: for he is
the minister of God to thee for good.” And this restriction,
so far from lowering their prerogative, exalts it, on the contrary,
more than ever; for it is thus assimilated to that of
God, who has no power to do evil, but is all-powerful to do
good; and it is thus distinguished from that of devils, who
are impotent in that which is good, and powerful only for
evil. There is this difference only to be observed betwixt
the King of Heaven and earthly sovereigns, that God, being
justice and wisdom itself, may inflict death instantaneously
on whomsoever and in whatsoever manner he pleases; for,
besides his being the sovereign Lord of human life, it is certain
that he never takes it away either without cause or without
judgment, because he is as incapable of injustice as he is
of error. Earthly potentates, however, are not at liberty to
act in this manner; for, though the ministers of God, still
they are but men, and not gods. They may be misguided
by evil counsels, irritated by false suspicions, transported by
passion, and hence they find themselves obliged to have recourse,
in their turn also, to human agency, and appoint magistrates
in their dominions, to whom they delegate their power,
that the authority which God has bestowed on them may be
employed solely for the purpose for which they received it.

I hope you understand, then, fathers, that to avoid the
crime of murder, we must act at once by the authority of
God, and according to the justice of God; and that when
these two conditions are not united, sin is contracted; whether
it be by taking away life with his authority, but without
his justice; or by taking it away with justice, but without
his authority. From this indispensable connection it follows,
.bn 280.png
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according to St. Augustine, “that he who, without proper
authority, kills a criminal, becomes a criminal himself, chiefly
for this reason, that he usurps an authority which God has
not given him;” and on the other hand, magistrates, though
they possess this authority, are nevertheless chargeable with
murder, if, contrary to the laws which they are bound to
follow, they inflict death on an innocent man.

Such are the principles of public safety and tranquillity
which have been admitted at all times and in all places, and
on the basis of which all legislators, sacred and profane, from
the beginning of the world, have founded their laws. Even
Heathens have never ventured to make an exception to this
rule, unless in cases where there was no other way of
escaping the loss of chastity or life, when they conceived,
as Cicero tells us, “that the law itself seemed to put its
weapons into the hands of those who were placed in such an
emergency.”

But with this single exception, which has nothing to do
with my present purpose, that such a law was ever enacted,
authorizing or tolerating, as you have done, the practice of
putting a man to death, to atone for an insult, or to avoid
the loss of honor or property, where life is not in danger at
the same time; that, fathers, is what I deny was ever done,
even by infidels. They have, on the contrary, most expressly
forbidden the practice. The law of the Twelve Tables of
Rome bore, “that it is unlawful to kill a robber in the day-time,
when he does not defend himself with arms;” which,
indeed, had been prohibited long before in the 22d chapter
of Exodus. And the law <cite>Furem</cite>, in the <cite>Lex Cornelia</cite>, which
is borrowed from Ulpian, forbids the killing of robbers even
by night, if they do not put us in danger of our lives.[256]

.pm fns 256
See Cujas, tit. dig. de just. et jur. ad l. 3.
.pm fne

Tell us now, fathers, what authority you have to permit
what all laws, human as well as divine, have forbidden; and
who gave Lessius a right to use the following language?
“The book of Exodus forbids the killing of thieves by day,
when they do not employ arms in their defence; and in a
.bn 281.png
.pn +1
court of justice, punishment is inflicted on those who kill
under these circumstances. <em>In conscience</em>, however, no blame
can be attached to this practice, when a person is not sure
of being able otherwise to recover his stolen goods, or entertains
a doubt on the subject, as Sotus expresses it; for he is
not obliged to run the risk of losing any part of his property
merely to save the life of a robber. The same privilege extends
even to clergymen.”[257] Such extraordinary assurance!
The law of Moses punishes those who kill a thief when he
does not threaten our lives, and the law of the Gospel, according
to you, will absolve them! What, fathers! has
Jesus Christ come to destroy the law, and not to fulfil it?
“The civil judge,” says Lessius, “would inflict punishment
on those who should kill under such circumstances; but no
blame can be attached to the deed in conscience.” Must we
conclude, then, that the morality of Jesus Christ is more
sanguinary, and less the enemy of murder, than that of
Pagans, from whom our judges have borrowed their civil
laws which condemn that crime? Do Christians make more
account of the good things of this earth, and less account of
human life, than infidels and idolaters? On what principle
do you proceed, fathers? Assuredly not upon any law that
ever was enacted either by God or man—on nothing, indeed,
but this extraordinary reasoning: “The laws,” say you, “permit
us to defend ourselves against robbers, and to repel force
by force; self-defence, therefore, being permitted, it follows
that murder, without which self-defence is often impracticable,
may be considered as permitted also.”

.pm fns 257
L. 2, c. 9, n. 66, 72.
.pm fne

It is false, fathers, that because self-defence is allowed,
murder may be allowed also. This barbarous method of
self-vindication lies at the root of all your errors, and has
been justly stigmatized by the Faculty of Louvain, in their
censure of the doctrine of your friend Father Lamy, as “<em>a
murderous defence</em>—<lang=la><i>defensio occisiva</i></lang>.” I maintain that the
laws recognize such a wide difference between murder and
self-defence, that in those very cases in which the latter is
.bn 282.png
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sanctioned, they have made a provision against murder, when
the person is in no danger of his life. Read the words, fathers,
as they run in the same passage of Cujas: “It is lawful
to repulse the person who comes to invade our property;
but <em>we are not permitted to kill him</em>.” And again: “If any
should threaten to strike us, and not to deprive us of life, it
is quite allowable to repulse him; but <em>it is against all law
to put him to death</em>.”

Who, then, has given you a right to say, as Molina, Reginald,
Filiutius, Escobar, Lessius, and others among you,
have said, “that it is lawful to kill the man who offers to
strike us a blow?” or, “that it is lawful to take the life of
one who means to insult us, by the common consent of all
the casuists,” as Lessius says. By what authority do you,
who are mere private individuals, confer upon other private
individuals, not excepting clergymen, this right of killing and
slaying? And how dare you usurp the power of life and
death, which belongs essentially to none but God, and which
is the most glorious mark of sovereign authority? These
are the points that demand explanation; and yet you conceive
that you have furnished a triumphant reply to the
whole, by simply remarking, in your thirteenth Imposture,
“that the value for which Molina permits us to kill a thief,
who flies without having done us any violence, is not so
small as I have said, and that it must be a much larger sum
than six ducats!” How extremely silly! Pray, fathers,
where would you have the price to be fixed? At fifteen or
sixteen ducats? Do not suppose that this will produce any
abatement in my accusations. At all events, you cannot
make it exceed the value of a horse; for Lessius is clearly of
opinion, “that we may lawfully kill the thief that runs off
with our horse.”[258] But I must tell you, moreover, that I
was perfectly correct when I said that Molina estimates the
value of the thief’s life at six ducats; and, if you will not
take it upon my word, we shall refer it to an umpire, to
whom you cannot object. The person whom I fix upon for
.bn 283.png
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this office is your own Father Reginald, who, in his explanation
of the same passage of Molina (l. 28, n. 68), declares
that “Molina there <sc>DETERMINES</sc> the sum for which it is not
allowable to kill at three, or four, or five ducats.” And
thus, fathers, I shall have Reginald in addition to Molina, to
bear me out.

.pm fns 258
L. ii., c. 9, n. 74.
.pm fne

It will be equally easy for me to refute your fourteenth
Imposture, touching Molina’s permission to “kill a thief who
offers to rob us of a crown.” This palpable fact is attested
by Escobar, who tells us “that Molina has regularly determined
the sum for which it is lawful to take away life, at one
crown.”[259] And all you have to lay to my charge in the
fourteenth imposture is, that I have suppressed the last
words of this passage, namely, “that in this matter every
one ought to study the moderation of a just self-defence.”
Why do you not complain that Escobar has also omitted to
mention these words? But how little tact you have about
you! You imagine that nobody understands what you mean
by self-defence. Don’t we know that it is to employ “<em>a
murderous defence</em>?” You would persuade us that Molina
meant to say, that if a person, in defending his crown, finds
himself in danger of his life, he is then at liberty to kill his
assailant, in self-preservation. If that were true, fathers,
why should Molina say in the same place, that “in this matter
he was of a contrary judgment from Carrer and Bald,”
who give permission to kill in self-preservation? I repeat,
therefore, that his plain meaning is, that provided the person
can save his crown without killing the thief, he ought not to
kill him; but that, if he cannot secure his object without
shedding blood, even though he should run no risk of his
own life, as in the case of the robber being unarmed, he is
permitted to take up arms and kill the man, in order to save
his crown; and in so doing, according to him, the person
does not transgress “the moderation of a just defence.” To
show you that I am in the right, just allow him to explain
himself: “One does not exceed the moderation of a just defence,”
.bn 284.png
.pn +1
says he, “when he takes up arms against a thief who
has none, or employs weapons which give him the advantage
over his assailant. I know there are some who are of a contrary
judgment; but I do not approve of their opinion, even
in the external tribunal.”[260]

.pm fns 259
Treat. i., examp. 7, n. 44.
.pm fne

.pm fns 260
In casuistical divinity, a distinction is drawn between the internal
and the external tribunal, or <lang=la><i>forum</i></lang>, as it is called. The internal tribunal,
or the <lang=la><i>forum poli</i></lang>, is that of conscience or the judgment formed of
actions according to the law of God. The external tribunal, or the
<lang=la><i>forum soli</i></lang>, is that of human society, or the judgment of actions in the
estimation of men, and according to civil law. (Voet. Disp. Theol., iv.
62.)
.pm fne

Thus, fathers, it is unquestionable that your authors have
given permission to kill in defence of property and honor,
though life should be perfectly free from danger. And it is
upon the same principle that they authorize duelling, as I
have shown by a great variety of passages from their writings,
to which you have made no reply. You have animadverted
in your writings only on a single passage taken from
Father Layman, who sanctions the above practice, “when
otherwise a person would be in danger of sacrificing his
fortune or his honor;” and here you accuse me with having
suppressed what he adds, “that such a case happens very
rarely.” You astonish me, fathers: these are really curious
impostures you charge me withal. You talk as if the question
were, Whether that is a rare case? when the real question
is, If, in such a case, duelling is lawful? These are two
very different questions. Layman, in the quality of a casuist,
ought to judge whether duelling is lawful in the case supposed;
and he declares that it is. We can judge without his
assistance, whether the case be a rare one; and we can tell
him that it is a very ordinary one. Or, if you prefer the
testimony of your good friend Diana, he will tell you that
“the case is exceedingly common.”[261] But be it rare or not,
and let it be granted that Layman follows in this the example
of Navarre, a circumstance on which you lay so much
stress, is it not shameful that he should consent to such an
opinion as that, to preserve a false honor, it is lawful in conscience
.bn 285.png
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to accept of a challenge, in the face of the edicts of
all Christian states, and of all the canons of the Church,
while, in support of these diabolical maxims, you can produce
neither laws, nor canons, nor authorities from Scripture,
or from the fathers, nor the example of a single saint, nor, in
short, anything but the following impious syllogism: “Honor
is more than life: it is allowable to kill in defence of life;
therefore it is allowable to kill in defence of honor!” What,
fathers! because the depravity of men disposes them to prefer
that factitious honor before the life which God hath given
them to be devoted to his service, must they be permitted to
murder one another for its preservation? To love that
honor more than life, is in itself a heinous evil; and yet this
vicious passion, which, when proposed as the end of our conduct,
is enough to tarnish the holiest of actions, is considered
by you capable of sanctifying the most criminal of them!

.pm fns 261
Part. 5, tr. 19, misc. 2, resol. 99.
.pm fne

What a subversion of all principle is here, fathers! And
who does not see to what atrocious excesses it may lead?
It is obvious, indeed, that it will ultimately lead to the commission
of murder for the most trifling things imaginable,
when one’s honor is considered to be staked for their preservation—murder,
I venture to say, even <em>for an apple</em>! You
might complain of me, fathers, for drawing sanguinary inferences
from your doctrine with a malicious intent, were I not
fortunately supported by the authority of the grave Lessius,
who makes the following observation, in number 68: “It is
not allowable to take life for an article of small value, such as
for a crown or <em>for an apple</em>—<lang=la><i>aut pro pomo</i></lang>—unless it would
be deemed dishonorable to lose it. In this case, one may
recover the article, and even, if necessary, <em>kill the aggressor</em>;
for this is not so much defending one’s property as retrieving
one’s honor.” This is plain speaking, fathers; and, just to
crown your doctrine with a maxim which includes all the rest,
allow me to quote the following from Father Hereau, who
has taken it from Lessius: “The right of self-defence extends
to whatever is necessary to protect ourselves from all injury.”
.bn 286.png
.pn +1

What strange consequences does this inhuman principle
involve! and how imperative is the obligation laid upon all,
and especially upon those in public stations, to set their face
against it! Not the general good alone, but their own personal
interest should engage them to see well to it; for the
casuists of your school whom I have cited in my letters, extend
their permissions to kill far enough to reach even them.
Factious men, who dread the punishment of their outrages,
which never appear to them in a criminal light, easily persuade
themselves that they are the victims of violent oppression,
and will be led to believe at the same time, “that the
right of self-defence extends to whatever is necessary to protect
themselves from all injury.” And thus, relieved from
contending against the checks of conscience, which stifle the
greater number of crimes at their birth, their only anxiety
will be to surmount external obstacles.

I shall say no more on this subject, fathers; nor shall I
dwell on the other murders, still more odious and important
to governments, which you sanction, and of which Lessius,
in common with many others of your authors, treats in the
most unreserved manner.[262] It was to be wished that these
horrible maxims had never found their way out of hell; and
that the devil, who is their original author, had never discovered
men sufficiently devoted to his will to publish them
among Christians.[263]

.pm fns 262
Doubts 4th and 10th.
.pm fne

.pm fns 263
“I am happy,” says Nicole, in a note, “to state here an important
fact, which confers the highest honor on M. Arnauld. A work of considerable
size was sent him before going to press, in which there was a
collection of all the authorities, from Jesuit writers, prejudicial to the life
of kings and princes. That celebrated doctor prevented the impression
of the work, on the ground that it was dangerous for the life of monarchs
and for the honor of the Jesuits that it should ever see the light;
and, in fact, the work was never printed. Some other writer, less delicate
than M. Arnauld, has published something similar, in a work entitled
<cite>Recueil de Pieces concernant l’ Histoire de la Compagnie de Jesus,
par le P. Jouvenci</cite>.”
.pm fne

From all that I have hitherto said, it is easy to judge what
a contrariety there is betwixt the licentiousness of your opinions
and the severity of civil laws, not even excepting those
.bn 287.png
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of heathens. How much more apparent must the contrast
be with ecclesiastical laws, which must be incomparably more
holy than any other, since it is the Church alone that knows
and possesses the true holiness! Accordingly, this chaste
spouse of the Son of God, who, in imitation of her heavenly
husband, can shed her own blood for others, but never the
blood of others for herself, entertains a horror at the crime
of murder altogether singular, and proportioned to the peculiar
illumination which God has vouchsafed to bestow upon
her. She views man, not simply as man, but as the image
of the God whom she adores. She feels for every one of the
race a holy respect, which imparts to him, in her eyes, a
venerable character, as redeemed by an infinite price, to be
made the temple of the living God. And therefore she
considers the death of a man, slain without the authority of
his Maker, not as murder only, but as sacrilege, by which
she is deprived of one of her members; for whether he be a
believer or an unbeliever, she uniformly looks upon him, if
not as one, at least as capable of becoming one, of her own
children.[264]

.pm fns 264
Surely Pascal is here describing the Church of Christ as she ought
to be, and not the Church of Rome as she existed in 1656, at the very
time when she was urging, sanctioning, and exulting in the bloody
barbarities perpetrated in her name on the poor Piedmontese; or the
same Church as she appeared in 1572, when one of her popes ordered
a medal to be struck in honor of the Bartholomew massacre, with the
inscription, “<lang=la><i>Strages Hugonotarum</i></lang>—The massacre of the Hugunots!”
Of what Church, if not the Romish, can it be said with truth, that, “in
her was found the blood of prophets, and of saints, and of all that
were slain on the earth?”
.pm fne

Such, fathers, are the holy reasons which, ever since the
time that God became man for the redemption of men, have
rendered their condition an object of such consequence to
the Church, that she uniformly punishes the crime of homicide,
not only as destructive to them, but as one of the grossest
outrages that can possibly be perpetrated against God.
In proof of this I shall quote some examples, not from the
idea that all the severities to which I refer ought to be kept
up (for I am aware that the Church may alter the arrangement
.bn 288.png
.pn +1
of such exterior discipline), but to demonstrate her immutable
spirit upon this subject. The penances which she
ordains for murder may differ according to the diversity of
the times, but no change of time can ever effect an alteration
of the horror with which she regards the crime itself.

For a long time the Church refused to be reconciled, till
the very hour of death, to those who had been guilty of wilful
murder, as those are to whom you give your sanction.
The celebrated Council of Ancyra adjudged them to penance
during their whole lifetime; and, subsequently, the Church
deemed it an act of sufficient indulgence to reduce that term
to a great many years. But, still more effectually to deter
Christians from wilful murder, she has visited with most
severe punishment even those acts which have been committed
through inadvertence, as may be seen in St. Basil, in
St. Gregory of Nyssen, and in the decretals of Popes Zachary
and Alexander II. The canons quoted by Isaac, bishop of
Langres (tr. 2. 13), “ordain seven years of penance for having
killed another in self-defence.” And we find St. Hildebert,
bishop of Mans, replying to Yves de Chartres, “that he
was right in interdicting for life a priest who had, in self-defence,
killed a robber with a stone.”

After this, you cannot have the assurance to persist in saying
that your decisions are agreeable to the spirit or the
canons of the Church. I defy you to show one of them that
permits us to kill solely in defence of our property (for I
speak not of cases in which one may be called upon to defend
his life—<lang=la><i>se suaqae liberando</i></lang>): your own authors, and, among
the rest, Father Lamy, confess that no such canon can be
found. “There is no authority,” he says, “human or divine,
which gives an express permission to kill a robber who makes
no resistance.” And yet this is what you permit most expressly.
I defy you to show one of them that permits us to
kill in vindication of honor, for a buffet, for an affront, or for
a slander. I defy you to show one of them that permits the
killing of witnesses, judges, or magistrates, whatever injustice
we may apprehend from them. The spirit of the church is
.bn 289.png
.pn +1
diametrically opposite to these seditious maxims, opening the
door to insurrections to which the mob is naturally prone
enough already. She has invariably taught her children that
they ought not to render evil for evil; that they ought to
give place unto wrath; to make no resistance to violence; to
give unto every one his due—honor, tribute, submission; to
obey magistrates and superiors, even though they should be
unjust, because we ought always to respect in them the power
of that God who has placed them over us. She forbids them,
still more strongly than is done by the civil law, to take justice
into their own hands; and it is in her spirit that Christian
kings decline doing so in cases of high treason, and
remit the criminals charged with this grave offence into the
hands of the judges, that they may be punished according
to the laws and the forms of justice, which in this matter
exhibit a contrast to your mode of management, so striking
and complete that it may well make you blush for shame.

As my discourse has taken this turn, I beg you to follow
the comparison which I shall now draw between the style
in which you would dispose of your enemies, and that in
which the judges of the land dispose of criminals. Everybody
knows, fathers, that no private individual has a right to
demand the death of another individual; and that though a
man should have ruined us, maimed our body, burnt our
house, murdered our father, and was prepared, moreover, to
assassinate ourselves, or ruin our character, our private demand
for the death of that person would not be listened to in
a court of justice. Public officers have been appointed for
that purpose, who make the demand in the name of the king,
or rather, I would say, in the name of God. Now, do you
conceive, fathers, that Christian legislators have established
this regulation out of mere show and grimace? Is it not
evident that their object was to harmonize the laws of the
state with those of the Church, and thus prevent the external
practice of justice from clashing with the sentiments which
all Christians are bound to cherish in their hearts? It is
easy to see how this, which forms the commencement of a
.bn 290.png
.pn +1
civil process, must stagger you; its subsequent procedure
absolutely overwhelms you.

Suppose, then, fathers, that these official persons have demanded
the death of the man who has committed all the
above mentioned crimes, what is to be done next? Will
they instantly plunge a dagger in his breast? No, fathers;
the life of man is too important to be thus disposed of; they
go to work with more decency; the laws have committed it,
not to all sorts of persons, but exclusively to the judges,
whose probity and competency have been duly tried. And
is one judge sufficient to condemn a man to death? No; it
requires seven at the very least; and of these seven there
must not be one who has been injured by the criminal, lest
his judgment should be warped or corrupted by passion.
You are aware also, fathers, that the more effectually to secure
the purity of their minds, they devote the hours of the morning
to these functions. Such is the care taken to prepare
them for the solemn action of devoting a fellow-creature to
death; in performing which they occupy the place of God,
whose ministers they are, appointed to condemn such only as
have incurred his condemnation.

For the same reason, to act as faithful administrators of
the divine power of taking away human life, they are bound
to form their judgment solely according to the depositions
of the witnesses, and according to all the other forms prescribed
to them; after which they can pronounce conscientiously
only according to law, and can judge worthy of death
those only whom the law condemns to that penalty. And
then, fathers, if the command of God obliges them to deliver
over to punishment the bodies of the unhappy culprits, the
same divine statute binds them to look after the interests of
their guilty souls, and binds them the more to this just because
they are guilty; so that they are not delivered up to
execution till after they have been afforded the means of providing
for their consciences.[265] All this is quite fair and innocent;
.bn 291.png
.pn +1
and yet, such is the abhorrence of the Church to
blood, that she judges those to be incapable of ministering at
her altars who have borne any share in passing or executing
a sentence of death, accompanied though it be with these
religious circumstances; from which we may easily conceive
what idea the Church entertains of murder.

.pm fns 265
<em>Providing for their consciences</em>—that is, for the relief of conscience,
by confessing to a priest, and receiving absolution.
.pm fne

Such, then, being the manner in which human life is disposed
of by the legal forms of justice, let us now see how
you dispose of it. According to your modern system of legislation,
there is but one judge, and that judge is no other
than the offended party. He is at once the judge, the party,
and the executioner. He himself demands from himself the
death of his enemy; he condemns him, he executes him on
the spot; and, without the least respect either for the soul or
the body of his brother, he murders and damns him for
whom Jesus Christ died; and all this for the sake of avoiding
a blow on the cheek, or a slander, or an offensive word,
or some other offence of a similar nature, for which, if a magistrate,
in the exercise of legitimate authority, were condemning
any to die, he would himself be impeached; for, in such
cases, the laws are very far indeed from condemning any to
death. In one word, to crown the whole of this extravagance,
the person who kills his neighbor in this style, without
authority, and in the face of all law, contracts no sin and
commits no disorder, though he should be religious, and even
a priest! Where are we, fathers? Are these really religious,
and priests, who talk in this manner? Are they Christians?
are they Turks? are they men? or are they demons?
And are these “the mysteries revealed by the Lamb to his
Society?” or are they not rather abominations suggested by
the Dragon to those who take part with him?

To come to the point with you, fathers, whom do you wish
to be taken for?—for the children of the Gospel, or for the
enemies of the Gospel? You must be ranged either on the
one side or on the other; for there is no medium here. “He
that is not with Jesus Christ is against him.” Into these two
classes all mankind are divided. There are, according to
.bn 292.png
.pn +1
St. Augustine, two peoples and two worlds, scattered abroad
over the earth. There is the world of the children of God,
who form one body, of which Jesus Christ is the king and
the head; and there is the world at enmity with God, of
which the devil is the king and the head. Hence Jesus
Christ is called the King and God of the world, because he
has everywhere his subjects and worshippers; and hence the
devil is also termed in Scripture the prince of this world, and
the god of this world, because he has everywhere his agents
and his slaves. Jesus Christ has imposed upon the Church,
which is his empire, such laws as he, in his eternal wisdom,
was pleased to ordain; and the devil has imposed on the
world, which is his kingdom, such laws as he chose to establish.
Jesus Christ has associated honor with suffering; the
devil with not suffering. Jesus Christ has told those who
are smitten on the one cheek to turn the other also; and the
devil has told those who are threatened with a buffet to kill
the man that would do them such an injury. Jesus Christ
pronounces those happy who share in his reproach; and the
devil declares those to be unhappy who lie under ignominy.
Jesus Christ says, Woe unto you when men shall speak well
of you! and the devil says, Woe unto those of whom the
world does not speak with esteem!

Judge then, fathers, to which of these kingdoms you belong.
You have heard the language of the city of peace,
the mystical Jerusalem; and you have heard the language of
the city of confusion, which Scripture terms “the spiritual
Sodom.” Which of these two languages do you understand?
which of them do you speak? Those who are on the side
of Jesus Christ have, as St. Paul teaches us, the same mind
which was also in him; and those who are the children of
the devil—<lang=la><i>ex patre diabolo</i></lang>—who has been a murderer from
the beginning, according to the saying of Jesus Christ, follow
the maxims of the devil. Let us hear, therefore, the language
of your school. I put this question to your doctors:
When a person has given me a blow on the cheek, ought I
rather to submit to the injury than kill the offender? or may I
.bn 293.png
.pn +1
not kill the man in order to escape the affront? Kill him by
all means—it is quite lawful! exclaim, in one breath, Lessius,
Molina, Escobar, Reginald, Filiutius, Baldelle, and other Jesuits.
Is that the language of Jesus Christ? One question
more: Would I lose my honor by tolerating a box on the
ear, without killing the person that gave it? “Can there be
a doubt,” cries Escobar, “that so long as a man suffers another
to live who has given him a buffet, that man remains
without honor?” Yes, fathers, without that honor which
the devil transfuses, from his own proud spirit into that of
his proud children. This is the honor which has ever been
the idol of worldly-minded men. For the preservation of
this false glory, of which the god of this world is the appropriate
dispenser, they sacrifice their lives by yielding to the
madness of duelling; their honor, by exposing themselves to
ignominious punishments; and their salvation, by involving
themselves in the peril of damnation—a peril which, according
to the canons of the Church, deprives them even of
Christian burial. We have reason to thank God, however,
for having enlightened the mind of our monarch with ideas
much purer than those of your theology. His edicts bearing
so severely on this subject, have not made duelling a crime—they
only punish the crime which is inseparable from duelling.
He has checked, by the dread of his rigid justice, those
who were not restrained by the fear of the justice of God;
and his piety has taught him that the honor of Christians
consists in their observance of the mandates of Heaven and
the rules of Christianity, and not in the pursuit of that phantom
which, airy and unsubstantial as it is, you hold to be a
legitimate apology for murder. Your murderous decisions
being thus universally detested, it is highly advisable that
you should now change your sentiments, if not from religious
principle, at least from motives of policy. Prevent, fathers,
by a spontaneous condemnation of these inhuman dogmas,
the melancholy consequences which may result from them,
and for which you will be responsible. And to impress your
minds with a deeper horror at homicide, remember that the
.bn 294.png
.pn +1
first crime of fallen man was a murder, committed on the
person of the first holy man; that the greatest crime was a
murder, perpetrated on the person of the King of saints;
and that of all crimes, murder is the only one which involves
in a common destruction the Church and the state, nature
and religion.

.tb

I have just seen the answer of your apologist to my Thirteenth
Letter; but if he has nothing better to produce in the
shape of a reply to that letter, which obviates the greater
part of his objections, he will not deserve a rejoinder. I am
sorry to see him perpetually digressing from his subject, to
indulge in rancorous abuse both of the living and the dead.
But, in order to gain some credit to the stories with which you
have furnished him, you should not have made him publicly
disavow a fact so notorious as that of the buffet of Compiègne.[266]
Certain it is, fathers, from the deposition of the
injured party, that he received upon his cheek a blow from
the hand of a Jesuit; and all that your friends have been
able to do for you has been to raise a doubt whether he received
the blow with the back or the palm of the hand, and
to discuss the question whether a stroke on the cheek with
the back of the hand can be properly denominated a buffet.
I know not to what tribunal it belongs to decide this point;
but shall content myself, in the mean time, with believing that
it was, to say the very least, <em>a probable buffet</em>. This gets me
off with a safe conscience.

.pm fns 266
See Letter xiii., #p. 264:Page_264#.
.pm fne

.fm lz=t

.bn 295.png
.pn +1

.sp 4
.h2 title="LETTER XV."
LETTER XV.[267]

.ce
TO THE REVEREND FATHERS, THE JESUITS.

.fs 80%
.in +3
.ti -3
SHOWING THAT THE JESUITS FIRST EXCLUDE CALUMNY FROM THEIR
CATALOGUE OF CRIMES, AND THEN EMPLOY IT IN DENOUNCING
THEIR OPPONENTS.
.in
.fs

.pm fns 267
Pascal was assisted by M. Arnauld in the preparation of this letter.
(Nicole, iv. 162.)
.pm fne

.sp 2

.rj
<i>November 25, 1656.</i>

<sc>Reverend Fathers</sc>,—As your scurrilities are daily increasing,
and as you are employing them in the merciless
abuse of all pious persons opposed to your errors, I feel myself
obliged, for their sake and that of the Church, to bring
out that grand secret of your policy, which I promised to
disclose some time ago, in order that all may know, through
means of your own maxims, what degree of credit is due to
your calumnious accusations.

I am aware that those who are not very well acquainted
with you, are at a great loss what to think on this subject, as
they find themselves under the painful necessity, either of
believing the incredible crimes with which you charge your
opponents, or (what is equally incredible) of setting you
down as slanderers. “Indeed!” they exclaim, “were these
things not true, would clergymen publish them to the world—would
they debauch their consciences and damn themselves
by venting such libels?” Such is their way of reasoning,
and thus it is that the palpable proof of your falsifications
coming into collision with their opinion of your honesty, their
minds hang in a state of suspense between the evidence of
truth which they cannot gainsay, and the demands of charity
which they would not violate. It follows, that since their
.bn 296.png
.pn +1
high esteem for you is the only thing that prevents them
from discrediting your calumnies, if we can succeed in convincing
them that you have quite a different idea of calumny
from that which they suppose you to have, and that you actually
believe that in blackening and defaming your adversaries
you are working out your own salvation, there can be
little question that the weight of truth will determine them
immediately to pay no regard to your accusations. This,
fathers, will be the subject of the present letter.

My design is, not simply to show that your writings are
full of calumnies: I mean to go a step beyond this. It is
quite possible for a person to say a number of false things
believing them to be true; but the character of a liar implies
the intention to tell lies. Now I undertake to prove,
fathers, that it is your deliberate intention to tell lies, and
that it is both knowingly and purposely that you load your
opponents with crimes of which you know them to be innocent,
because you believe that you may do so without falling
from a state of grace. Though you doubtless know this
point of your morality as well as I do, this need not prevent
me from telling you about it; which I shall do, were it for
no other purpose than to convince all men of its existence,
by showing them that I can maintain it to your face, while
you cannot have the assurance to disavow it, without confirming,
by that very disavowment, the charge which I bring
against you.

The doctrine to which I allude is so common in your
schools, that you have maintained it not only in your books,
but, such is your assurance, even in your public theses; as,
for example, in those delivered at Louvain in the year 1645,
where it occurs in the following terms: “What is it but a
venial sin to calumniate and forge false accusations to ruin
the credit of those who speak evil of us?”[268] So settled is
this point among you, that if any one dare to oppose it, you
treat him as a blockhead and a hare-brained idiot. Such
.bn 297.png
.pn +1
was the way in which you treated Father Quiroga, the German
Capuchin, when he was so unfortunate as to impugn
the doctrine. The poor man was instantly attacked by
Dicastille, one of your fraternity; and the following is a
specimen of the manner in which he manages the dispute:
“A certain rueful-visaged, bare-footed, cowled friar—<lang=la><i>cucullatus
gymnopoda</i></lang>—whom I do not choose to name, had the
boldness to denounce this opinion, among some women and
ignorant people, and to allege that it was scandalous and
pernicious against all good manners, hostile to the peace of
states and societies, and, in short, contrary to the judgment
not only of all Catholic doctors, but of all true Catholics.
But in opposition to him I maintained, as I do still, that calumny,
when employed against a calumniator, though it should
be a falsehood, is not a mortal sin, either against justice or
charity: and to prove the point, I referred him to the whole
body of our fathers, and to whole universities, exclusively
composed of them, whom I had consulted on the subject;
and among others the reverend Father John Gans, confessor
to the emperor; the reverend Father Daniel Bastele, confessor
to the archduke Leopold; Father Henri, who was
preceptor to these two princes; all the public and ordinary
professors of the university of Vienna” (wholly composed of
Jesuits); “all the professors of the university of Gratz” (all
Jesuits); “all the professors of the university of Prague”
(where Jesuits are the masters);—“from all of whom I have
in my possession approbations of my opinions, written and
signed with their own hands; besides having on my side the
reverend Father Panalossa, a Jesuit, preacher to the emperor
and the king of Spain; Father Pilliceroli, a Jesuit, and many
others, who had all judged this opinion to be probable, before
our dispute began.”[269] You perceive, fathers, that there
are few of your opinions which you have been at more pains
to establish than the present, as indeed there were few of
them of which you stood more in need. For this reason,
doubtless, you have authenticated it so well, that the casuists
.bn 298.png
.pn +1
appeal to it as an indubitable principle. “There can be no
doubt,” says Caramuel, “that it is a probable opinion that
we contract no mortal sin by calumniating another, in order
to preserve our own reputation. For it is maintained by
more than twenty grave doctors, by Gaspard Hurtado, and
Dicastille, Jesuits, &c.; so that, were this doctrine not probable,
it would be difficult to find any one such in the whole
compass of theology.”

.pm fns 268
Quidni non nisi veniale sit, detrahentes autoritatem magnam, tibi
noxiam, falso crimine elidere?
.pm fne

.pm fns 269
Dicastillus, De Just., l. 2, tr. 2, disp. 12, n. 404.
.pm fne

Wretched indeed must that theology be, and rotten to
the very core, which, unless it has been decided to be safe in
conscience to defame our neighbor’s character to preserve
our own, can hardly boast of a safe decision on any other
point! How natural is it, fathers, that those who hold this
principle should occasionally put it in practice! The corrupt
propensity of mankind leans so strongly in that direction
of itself, that the obstacle of conscience once being removed,
it would be folly to suppose that it will not burst
forth with all its native impetuosity. If you desire an example
of this, Caramuel will furnish you with one that occurs
in the same passage: “This maxim of Father Dicastille,”
he says, “having been communicated by a German countess
to the daughters of the empress, the belief thus impressed
on their minds that calumny was only a venial sin, gave rise
in the course of a few days to such an immense number of
false and scandalous tales, that the whole court was thrown
into a flame and filled with alarm. It is easy, indeed, to
conceive what a fine use these ladies would make of the new
light they had acquired. Matters proceeded to such a length,
that it was found necessary to call in the assistance of a worthy
Capuchin friar, a man of exemplary life, called Father
Quiroga” (the very man whom Dicastille rails at so bitterly),
“who assured them that the maxim was most pernicious,
especially among women, and was at the greatest pains to
prevail upon the empress to abolish the practice of it entirely.”
We have no reason, therefore, to be surprised at the
bad effects of this doctrine; on the contrary, the wonder
would be, if it had failed to produce them. Self-love is always
.bn 299.png
.pn +1
ready enough to whisper in our ear, when we are attacked,
that we suffer wrongfully; and more particularly in
your case, fathers, whom vanity has blinded so egregiously
as to make you believe that to wound the honor of your Society,
is to wound that of the Church. There would have
been good ground to look on it as something miraculous, if
you had <em>not</em> reduced this maxim to practice. Those who
do not know you are ready to say, How could these good
fathers slander their enemies, when they cannot do so but
at the expense of their own salvation? But if they knew
you better, the question would be, How could these good
fathers forego the advantage of decrying their enemies, when
they have it in their power to do so without hazarding their
salvation? Let none, therefore, henceforth be surprised to
find the Jesuits calumniators; they can exercise this vocation
with a safe conscience; there is no obstacle in heaven or on
earth to prevent them. In virtue of the credit they have
acquired in the world, they can practise defamation without
dreading the justice of mortals; and, on the strength of their
self-assumed authority in matters of conscience, they have
invented maxims for enabling them to do it without any fear
of the justice of God.

This, fathers, is the fertile source of your base slanders.
On this principle was Father Brisacier led to scatter his calumnies
about him, with such zeal as to draw down on his
head the censure of the late Archbishop of Paris. Actuated
by the same motives, Father D’Anjou launched his invectives
from the pulpit of the Church of St. Benedict in Paris,
on the 8th of March, 1655, against those honorable gentlemen
who were intrusted with the charitable funds raised for
the poor of Picardy and Champagne, to which they themselves
had largely contributed; and, uttering a base falsehood,
calculated (if your slanders had been considered worthy of
any credit) to dry up the stream of that charity, he had the
assurance to say, “that he knew, from good authority, that
certain persons had diverted that money from its proper use,
to employ it against the Church and the State;” a calumny
.bn 300.png
.pn +1
which obliged the curate of the parish, who is a doctor of
the Sorbonne, to mount the pulpit the very next day, in
order to give it the lie direct. To the same source must be
traced the conduct of your Father Crasset, who preached
calumny at such a furious rate in Orleans that the archbishop
of that place was under the necessity of interdicting him as
a public slanderer. In his mandate, dated the 9th of September
last, his lordship declares, “That whereas he had
been informed that Brother Jean Crasset, priest of the Society
of Jesus, had delivered from the pulpit a discourse filled
with falsehoods and calumnies against the ecclesiastics of this
city, falsely and maliciously charging them with maintaining
impious and heretical propositions, such as, That the commandments
of God are impracticable; that internal grace is
irresistible; that Jesus Christ did not die for all men; and
others of a similar kind, condemned by Innocent X.: he
therefore hereby interdicts the aforesaid Crasset from preaching
in his diocese, and forbids all his people to hear him, on
pain of mortal disobedience.” The above, fathers, is your
ordinary accusation, and generally among the first that you
bring against all whom it is your interest to denounce. And
although you should find it as impossible to substantiate the
charge against any of them, as Father Crasset did in the
case of the clergy of Orleans, your peace of conscience will
not be in the least disturbed on that account; for you believe
that this mode of calumniating your adversaries is
permitted you with such certainty, that you have no scruple
to avow it in the most public manner, and in the face of a
whole city.

A remarkable proof of this may be seen in the dispute you
had with M. Puys, curate of St. Nisier at Lyons; and the
story exhibits so complete an illustration of your spirit, that
I shall take the liberty of relating some of its leading circumstances.
You know, fathers, that, in the year 1649, M.
Puys translated into French an excellent book, written by
another Capuchin friar, “On the duty which Christians owe
to their own parishes, against those that would lead them
.bn 301.png
.pn +1
away from them,” without using a single invective, or pointing
to any monk or any order of monks in particular. Your
fathers, however, were pleased to put the cap on their own
heads; and without any respect to an aged pastor, a judge
in the Primacy of France, and a man who was held in the
highest esteem by the whole city, Father Alby wrote a furious
tract against him, which you sold in your own church
upon Assumption-day; in which book, among other various
charges, he accused him of having “made himself scandalous
by his gallantries,” described him as suspected of having
no religion, as a heretic, excommunicated, and, in short,
worthy of the stake. To this M. Puys made a reply; and
Father Alby, in a second publication, supported his former
allegations. Now, fathers, is it not a clear point, either that
you were calumniators, or that you believed all that you
alleged against that worthy priest to be true; and that, on
this latter assumption, it became you to see him purified
from all these abominations before judging him worthy of
your friendship? Let us see, then, what happened at the
accommodation of the dispute, which took place in the presence
of a great number of the principal inhabitants of the
town, whose names will be found at the foot of the page,[270]
exactly as they are set down in the instrument drawn up on
the 25th of September, 1650. Before all these witnesses
M. Puys made a declaration, which was neither more nor
less than this: “That what he had written was not directed
against the fathers of the Society of Jesus; that he had spoken
in general of those who alienated the faithful from their
parishes, without meaning by that to attack the Society;
and that so far from having such an intention, the Society
.bn 302.png
.pn +1
was the object of his esteem and affection.” By virtue of
these words alone, without either retractation or absolution, M.
Puys recovered, all at once, from his apostasy, his scandals,
and his excommunication; and Father Alby immediately
thereafter addressed him in the following express terms:
“Sir, it was in consequence of my believing that you meant
to attack the Society to which I have the honor to belong,
that I was induced to take up the pen in its defence; and I
considered that the mode of reply which I adopted was <em>such
as I was permitted to employ</em>. But, on a better understanding
of your intention, I am now free to declare, that <em>there is
nothing in your work</em> to prevent me from regarding you as a
man of genius, enlightened in judgment, profound and <em>orthodox</em>
in doctrine, and <em>irreproachable</em> in manners; in one word,
as a pastor worthy of your Church. It is with much pleasure
that I make this declaration, and I beg these gentlemen
to remember what I have now said.”

.pm fns 270
M. De Ville, Vicar-General of M., the Cardinal of Lyons; M.
Scarron, Canon and Curate of St. Paul; M. Margat, Chanter; MM.
Bouvand, Seve, Aubert, and Dervien, Canons of St. Nisier; M. de Gué,
President of the Treasurers of France; M. Groslier, Provost of the Merchants;
M. de Flèchre, President and Lieutenant-General; MM. De
Boissart, De St. Romain, and De Bartoly, gentlemen; M. Bourgeois,
the King’s First Advocate in the Court of the Treasurers of France; MM.
De Cotton, father and son; and M. Boniel; who have all signed the
original copy of the Declaration, along with M. Puys and Father Alby.
.pm fne

They do remember it, fathers; and, allow me to add, they
were more scandalized by the reconciliation than by the
quarrel. For who can fail to admire this speech of Father
Alby? He does not say that he retracts, in consequence of
having learnt that a change had taken place in the faith and
manners of M. Puys, but solely because, <em>having understood
that he had no intention of attacking your Society</em>, there was
nothing further to prevent him from regarding the author as
a good Catholic. He did not then believe him to be actually
a heretic! And yet, after having, contrary to his conviction,
accused him of this crime, he will not acknowledge he was
in the wrong, but has the hardihood to say, that he considered
the method he adopted to be “such as he was <em>permitted</em>
to employ!”

What can you possibly mean, fathers, by so publicly avowing
the fact, that you measure the faith and the virtue of
men only by the sentiments they entertain towards your Society?
Had you no apprehension of making yourselves
pass, by your own acknowledgment, as a band of swindlers
and slanderers? What, fathers! must the same individual,
.bn 303.png
.pn +1
without undergoing any personal transformation, but simply
according as you judge him to have honored or assailed your
community, be “pious” or “impious,” “irreproachable” or
“excommunicated,” “a pastor worthy of the Church” or
“worthy of the stake;” in short, “a Catholic” or “a heretic?”
To attack your Society and to be a heretic, are, therefore,
in your language, convertible terms! An odd sort of
heresy this, fathers! And so it would appear, that when
we see many good Catholics branded, in your writings, by
the name of heretics, it means nothing more than that <em>you
think they attack you</em>! It is well, fathers, that we understand
this strange dialect, according to which there can be
no doubt that I must be a great heretic. It is in <em>this</em> sense,
then, that you so often favor me with this appellation!
Your sole reason for cutting me off from the Church is, because
you conceive that my letters have done you harm; and,
accordingly, all that I have to do, in order to become a good
Catholic, is either to approve of your extravagant morality,
or to convince you that my sole aim in exposing it has been
your advantage. The former I could not do without renouncing
every sentiment of piety that I ever possessed; and the
latter you will be slow to acknowledge till you are well cured
of your errors. Thus am I involved in heresy, after a very
singular fashion; for, the purity of my faith being of no avail
for my exculpation, I have no means of escaping from the
charge, except either by turning traitor to my own conscience,
or by reforming yours. Till one or other of these events
happen, I must remain a reprobate and a slanderer; and,
let me be ever so faithful in my citations from your writings,
you will go about crying everywhere, “What an instrument
of the devil must that man be, to impute to us things of
which there is not the least mark or vestige to be found in
our books!” And, by doing so, you will only be acting in
conformity with your fixed maxim and your ordinary practice:
to such latitude does your privilege of telling lies extend!
Allow me to give you an example of this, which I
select on purpose: it will give me an opportunity of replying,
.bn 304.png
.pn +1
at the same time, to your ninth Imposture: for, in truth,
they only deserve to be refuted in passing.

About ten or twelve years ago, you were accused of holding
that maxim of Father Bauny, “that it is permissible to
seek directly (<lang=la><i>primo et per se</i></lang>) a proximate occasion of sin,
for the spiritual or temporal good of ourselves or our neighbor”
(tr. 4, q. 14); as an example of which, he observes,
“It is allowable to visit infamous places, for the purpose of
converting abandoned females, even although the practice
should be very likely to lead into sin, as in the case of one
who has found from experience that he has frequently yielded
to their temptations.” What answer did your Father Caussin
give to this charge in the year 1644? “Just let any one
look at the passage in Father Bauny,” said he, “let him
peruse the page, the margins, the preface, the appendix, in
short, the whole book from beginning to end, and he will not
discover the slightest vestige of such a sentence, which could
only enter into the mind of a man totally devoid of conscience,
and could hardly have been forged by any other but
an instrument of Satan.”[271] Father Pintereau talks in the
same style: “That man must be lost to all conscience who
would teach so detestable a doctrine; but he must be worse
than a devil who attributes it to Father Bauny. Reader,
there is not a single trace or vestige of it in the whole of his
book.”[272] Who would not believe that persons talking in
this tone have good reason to complain, and that Father
Bauny has, in very deed, been misrepresented? Have you
ever asserted anything against me in stronger terms? And,
after such a solemn asseveration, that “there was not a single
trace or vestige of it in the whole book,” who would
imagine that the passage is to be found, word for word, in
the place referred to?

.pm fns 271
Apology for the Society of Jesus, p. 128.
.pm fne

.pm fns 272
First Part, p. 24.
.pm fne

Truly, fathers, if this be the means of securing your reputation,
so long as you remain unanswered, it is also, unfortunately,
the means of destroying it forever, so soon as an answer
.bn 305.png
.pn +1
makes its appearance. For so certain is it that you told
a lie at the period before mentioned, that you make no scruple
of acknowledging, in your apologies of the present day,
that the maxim in question is to be found in the very place
which had been quoted; and what is most extraordinary, the
same maxim which, twelve years ago, was “detestable,” has
now become so innocent, that in your ninth Imposture (p. 10)
you accuse me of “ignorance and malice, in quarrelling with
Father Bauny for an opinion which has not been rejected in
the School.” What an advantage it is, fathers, to have to
do with people that deal in contradictions! I need not the
aid of any but yourselves to confute you; for I have only
two things to show—first, That the maxim in dispute is a
worthless one; and, secondly, That it belongs to Father
Bauny; and I can prove both by your own confession. In
1644, you confessed that it was “detestable;” and, in 1656,
you avow that it is Father Bauny’s. This double acknowledgment
completely justifies me, fathers; but it does more,
it discovers the spirit of your policy. For, tell me, pray,
what is the end you propose to yourselves in your writings?
Is it to speak with honesty? No, fathers; that cannot be,
since your defences destroy each other. Is it to follow the
truth of the faith? As little can this be your end; since, according
to your own showing, you authorize a “detestable”
maxim. But, be it observed, that while you said the maxim
was “detestable,” you denied, at the same time, that it was
the property of Father Bauny, and so he was innocent; and
when you now acknowledge it to be his, you maintain, at the
same time, that it is a good maxim, and so he is innocent
still. The innocence of this monk, therefore, being the only
thing common to your two answers, it is obvious that this
was the sole end which you aimed at in putting them forth;
and that, when you say of one and the same maxim, that it
is in a certain book, and that it is not; that it is a good
maxim, and that it is a bad one; your sole object is to white-wash
some one or other of your fraternity; judging in the
matter, not according to the truth, which never changes, but
.bn 306.png
.pn +1
according to your own interest, which is varying every hour.
Can I say more than this? You perceive that it amounts to
a demonstration; but it is far from being a singular instance;
and, to omit a multitude of examples of the same thing, I
believe you will be contented with my quoting only one
more.

You have been charged, at different times, with another
proposition of the same Father Bauny, namely, “That absolution
ought to be neither denied nor deferred in the case of
those who live in the habits of sin against the law of God, of
nature, and of the Church, although there should be no apparent
prospect of future amendment—<lang=la><i>etsi emendationis futuræ
spes nulla appareat</i></lang>.”[273] Now, with regard to this
maxim, I beg you to tell me, fathers, which of the apologies
that have been made for it is most to your liking; whether
that of Father Pintereau, or that of Father Brisacier, both
of your Society, who have defended Father Bauny, in your
<em>two different</em> modes—the one by condemning the proposition,
but disavowing it to be Father Bauny’s; the other by allowing
it to be Father Bauny’s, but vindicating the proposition?
Listen, then, to their respective deliverances. Here comes
that of Father Pintereau (p. 8): “I know not what can be
called a transgression of all the bounds of modesty, a step
beyond all ordinary impudence, if the imputation to Father
Bauny of so damnable a doctrine is not worthy of that designation.
Judge, reader, of the baseness of that calumny;
see what sort of creatures the Jesuits have to deal with; and
say, if the author of so foul a slander does not deserve to be
regarded from henceforth as the interpreter of the father of
lies.” Now for Father Brisacier: “It is true, Father Bauny
says what you allege.” (That gives the lie direct to Father
Pintereau, plain enough.) “But,” adds he, in defence of Father
Bauny, “if you who find so much fault with this sentiment,
wait, when a penitent lies at your feet, till his guardian angel
find security for his rights in the inheritance of heaven; if
you wait till God the Father, swear by himself that David
.bn 307.png
.pn +1
told a lie, when he said, by the Holy Ghost, that ‘all men
are liars,’ fallible and perfidious; if you wait till the penitent
be no longer a liar, no longer frail and changeable, no longer
a sinner, like other men; if you wait, I say, till then, you
will never apply the blood of Jesus Christ to a single soul.”[274]

.pm fns 273
Tr. 4, q. 22, p. 100.
.pm fne

.pm fns 274
Part. 4, p. 21
.pm fne

What do you really think now, fathers, of these impious
and extravagant expressions? According to them, if we
would wait “till there be some hope of amendment” in sinners
before granting their absolution, we must wait “till God
the Father swear by himself,” that they will never fall into
sin any more! What, fathers! is no distinction to be made
between <em>hope</em> and <em>certainty</em>? How injurious is it to the grace
of Jesus Christ, to maintain that it is so impossible for Christians
ever to escape from crimes against the laws of God,
nature, and the Church, that such a thing cannot be looked
for, without supposing “that the Holy Ghost has told a lie;”
and if absolution is not granted to those who give no hope of
amendment, the blood of Jesus Christ will be useless, forsooth,
and “would never be applied to a single soul!” To
what a sad pass have you come, fathers, by this extravagant
desire of upholding the glory of your authors, when you can
find only two ways of justifying them—by imposture or by
impiety; and when the most innocent mode by which you
can extricate yourselves, is by the barefaced denial of facts as
patient as the light of day!

This may perhaps account for your having recourse so frequently
to that very convenient practice. But this does not
complete the sum of your accomplishments in the art of self-defence.
To render your opponents odious, you have had
recourse to the forging of documents, such as that <cite>Letter of
a Minister to M. Arnauld</cite>, which you circulated through all
Paris, to induce the belief that the work on Frequent Communion,
which had been approved by so many bishops and
doctors, but which, to say the truth, was rather against you,
had been concocted through secret intelligence with the ministers
.bn 308.png
.pn +1
of Charenton.[275] At other times, you attribute to your
adversaries writings full of impiety, such as the <cite>Circular
Letter of the Jansenists</cite>, the absurd style of which renders
the fraud too gross to be swallowed, and palpably betrays
the malice of your Father Meynier, who has the impudence
to make use of it for supporting his foulest slanders. Sometimes,
again, you will quote books which were never in existence,
such as <cite>The Constitution of the Holy Sacrament</cite>, from
which you extract passages, fabricated at pleasure, and calculated
to make the hair on the heads of certain good simple
people, who have no idea of the effrontery with which you
can invent and propagate falsehoods, actually to bristle with
horror. There is not, indeed, a single species of calumny
which you have not put into requisition; nor is it possible
that the maxim which excuses the vice could have been
lodged in better hands.

.pm fns 275
That is, the Protestant ministers of Paris, who are called “the
ministers of Charenton,” from the village of that name near Paris, where
they had their place of worship. The Protestants of Paris were forbidden
to hold meetings in the city, and were compelled to travel five leagues
to a place of worship, till 1606, when they were <em>graciously</em> permitted to
erect their temple at Charenton, about two leagues from the city! (Benoit,
Hist. de l’Edit. de Nantes, i. 435.) Even there they were harassed
by the bigoted populace, and at last “the ministers of Charenton,”
among whom were the famous Claude and Daillé, were driven from
their homes, their chapel burnt to the ground, and their people scattered
abroad.
.pm fne

But those sorts of slander to which we have adverted are
rather too easily discredited; and, accordingly, you have others
of a more subtle character, in which you abstain from
specifying particulars, in order to preclude your opponents
from getting any hold, or finding any means of reply; as, for
example, when Father Brisacier says that “his enemies are
guilty of abominable crimes, <em>which he does not choose to mention</em>.”
Would you not think it were impossible to prove a
charge so vague as this to be a calumny? An able man,
however, has found out the secret of it; and it is a Capuchin
again, fathers. You are unlucky in Capuchins, as times now
go; and I foresee that you may be equally so some other
time in Benedictines. The name of this Capuchin is Father
.bn 309.png
.pn +1
Valerien, of the house of the Counts of Magnis. You shall
hear, by this brief narrative, how he answered your calumnies.
He had happily succeeded in converting Prince Ernest,
the Landgrave of Hesse-Rheinsfelt.[276] Your fathers,
however, seized, as it would appear, with some chagrin at
seeing a sovereign prince converted without their having had
any hand in it, immediately wrote a book against the friar
(for good men are everywhere the objects of your persecution),
in which, by falsifying one of his passages, they ascribed
to him an heretical doctrine. They also circulated a letter
against him, in which they said: “Ah, we have such things
to disclose” (without mentioning what) “as will gall you to
the quick! If you don’t take care, we shall be forced to
inform the pope and the cardinals about it.” This manœuvre
was pretty well executed; and I doubt not, fathers, but you
may speak in the same style of me; but take warning from
the manner in which the friar answered in his book, which
was printed last year at Prague (p. 112, &c.): “What shall
I do,” he says, “to counteract these vague and indefinite
insinuations? How shall I refute charges which have never
been specified? Here, however, is my plan. I declare,
loudly and publicly, to those who have threatened me, that
they are notorious slanderers, and most impudent liars, if they
do not discover these crimes before the whole world. Come
forth, then, mine accusers! and publish your lies upon the
house tops, in place of telling them in the ear, and keeping
yourselves out of harm’s way by telling them in the ear.
Some may think this a scandalous way of managing the dispute.
It was scandalous, I grant, to impute to me such a
crime as heresy, and to fix upon me the suspicion of many
others besides; but, by asserting my innocence, I am merely
applying the proper remedy to the scandal already in existence.”

.pm fns 276
In the first edition it was said to be the Landgrave of Darmstat, by
mistake, as shown in a note by Nicole.
.pm fne

Truly, fathers, never were your reverences more roughly
handled, and never was a poor man more completely vindicated.
.bn 310.png
.pn +1
Since you have made no reply to such a peremptory
challenge, it must be concluded that you are unable to discover
the slightest shadow of criminality against him. You
have had very awkward scrapes to get through occasionally;
but experience has made you nothing the wiser. For, some
time after this happened, you attacked the same individual
in a similar strain, upon another subject; and he defended
himself after the same spirited manner, as follows: “This
class of men, who have become an intolerable nuisance to the
whole of Christendom, aspire, under the pretext of good
works, to dignities and domination, by perverting to their
own ends almost all laws, human and divine, natural and
revealed. They gain over to their side, by their doctrine,
by the force of fear, or of persuasion, the great ones of the
earth, whose authority they abuse for the purpose of accomplishing
their detestable intrigues. Meanwhile their enterprises,
criminal as they are, are neither punished nor suppressed;
on the contrary, they are rewarded; and the villains
go about them with as little fear or remorse as if they were
doing God service. Everybody is aware of the fact I have
now stated; everybody speaks of it with execration; but few
are found capable of opposing a despotism so powerful. This,
however, is what I have done. I have already curbed their
insolence; and, by the same means, I shall curb it again.
I declare, then, that <em>they are most impudent liars</em>—<sc>MENTIRIS
IMPUDENTISSIME</sc>. If the charges they have brought against
me be true, let them prove it; otherwise, they stand convicted
of falsehood, aggravated by the grossest effrontery. Their
procedure in this case will show who has the right upon his
side. I desire all men to take a particular observation of it;
and beg to remark, in the mean time, that this precious cabal,
who will not suffer the most trifling charge which they can
possibly repel to lie upon them, made a show of enduring,
with great patience, those from which they cannot vindicate
themselves, and conceal, under a counterfeit virtue, their real
impotency. My object, therefore, in provoking their modesty,
by this sharp retort, is to let the plainest people understand,
.bn 311.png
.pn +1
that if my enemies hold their peace, their forbearance must
be ascribed, not to the meekness of their natures, but to the
power of a guilty conscience.” He concludes with the following
sentence: “These gentry, whose history is well known
throughout the whole world, are so glaringly iniquitous in
their measures, and have become so insolent in their impunity,
that if I did not detest their conduct, and publicly
express my detestation too, not merely for my own vindication,
but to guard the simple against its seducing influence, I
must have renounced my allegiance to Jesus Christ and his
Church.”

Reverend fathers, there is no room for tergiversation. You
must pass for convicted slanderers, and take comfort in your
old maxim, that calumny is no crime. This honest friar has
discovered the secret of shutting your mouths; and it must
be employed on all occasions when you accuse people without
proof. We have only to reply to each slander as it appears,
in the words of the Capuchin, <lang=la><i>Mentiris impudentissime</i></lang>—“You
are most impudent liars.” For instance, what
better answer does Father Brisacier deserve when he says
of his opponents that they are “the gates of hell; the devil’s
bishops; persons devoid of faith, hope, and charity; the
builders of Antichrist’s exchequer;” adding, “I say this of
him, not by way of insult, but from deep conviction of its
truth?” Who would be at the pains to demonstrate that he
is not “a gate of hell,” and that he has no concern with “the
building up of Antichrist’s exchequer?”

In like manner, what reply is due to all the vague speeches
of this sort which are to be found in your books and advertisements
on my letters; such as the following, for example:
“That restitutions have been converted to private uses, and
thereby creditors have been reduced to beggary; that bags
of money have been offered to learned monks, who declined
the bribe; that benefices are conferred for the purpose of
disseminating heresies against the faith; that pensioners are
kept in the houses of the most eminent churchmen, and in
the courts of sovereigns; that I also am a pensioner of Port-Royal;
.bn 312.png
.pn +1
and that, before writing my letters, I had composed
<em>romances</em>”—I, who never read one in my life, and who do
not know so much as the names of those which your apologist
has published? What can be said in reply to all this,
fathers, if you do not mention the names of all these persons
you refer to, their words, the time, and the place, except—<lang=la><i>Mentiris
impudentissime</i></lang>? You should either be silent altogether,
or relate and prove all the circumstances, as I did
when I told you the anecdotes of Father Alby and John
d’Alba. Otherwise, you will hurt none but yourselves.
Your numerous fables might, perhaps, have done you some
service, before your principles were known; but now that the
whole has been brought to light, when you begin to whisper
as usual, “A man of honor, who desired us to conceal his
name, has told us some horrible stories of these same people”—you
will be cut short at once, and reminded of the Capuchin’s
<lang=la><i>Mentiris impudentissime</i></lang>. Too long by far have you
been permitted to deceive the world, and to abuse the confidence
which men were ready to place in your calumnious
accusations. It is high time to redeem the reputation of the
multitudes whom you have defamed. For what innocence
can be so generally known, as not to suffer some injury from
the daring aspersions of a body of men scattered over the
face of the earth, and who, under religious habits, conceal
minds so utterly irreligious, that they perpetrate crimes like
calumny, not in opposition to, but in strict accordance with,
their moral maxims? I cannot, therefore, be blamed for
destroying the credit which might have been awarded you;
seeing it must be allowed to be a much greater act of justice
to restore to the victims of your obloquy the character which
they did not deserve to lose, than to leave you in the possession
of a reputation for sincerity which you do not deserve to
enjoy. And as the one could not be done without the other,
how important was it to show you up to the world as you
really are! In this letter I have commenced the exhibition;
but it will require some time to complete it. Published it
shall be, fathers, and all your policy will be inadequate to
.bn 313.png
.pn +1
save you from the disgrace; for the efforts which you may
make to avert the blow, will only serve to convince the most
obtuse observers that you were terrified out of your wits,
and that, your consciences anticipating the charges I had to
bring against you, you have put every oar in the water to
prevent the discovery.

.fm lz=t

.bn 314.png
.pn +1

.sp 4
.h2 title="LETTER XVI."
LETTER XVI.[277]

.ce
TO THE REVEREND FATHERS, THE JESUITS.

.fs 80%
.ce
SHAMEFUL CALUMNIES OF THE JESUITS AGAINST PIOUS CLERGYMEN AND INNOCENT NUNS.
.fs

.sp 2

.pm fns 277
The plan and materials of this letter were furnished by M. Nicole.
(Nicole, iv. 243.)
.pm fne

.rj
<i>December 4, 1656.</i>

<sc>Reverend Fathers</sc>,—I now come to consider the rest of
your calumnies, and shall begin with those contained in your
advertisements, which remain to be noticed. As all your
other writings, however, are equally well stocked with slander,
they will furnish me with abundant materials for entertaining
you on this topic as long as I may judge expedient. In the
first place, then, with regard to the fable which you have
propagated in all your writings against the Bishop of Ypres,[278]
I beg leave to say, in one word, that you have maliciously
wrested the meaning of some ambiguous expressions in one
of his letters, which being capable of a good sense, ought,
according to the spirit of the Gospel, to have been taken in
good part, and could only be taken otherwise according to
the spirit of your Society. For example, when he says to a
friend, “Give yourself no concern about your nephew; I
will furnish him with what he requires from the money that
lies in my hands,” what reason have you to interpret this to
mean, that he would take that money without restoring it,
and not that he merely advanced it with the purpose of replacing
it? And how extremely imprudent was it for you to
.bn 315.png
.pn +1
furnish a refutation of your own lie, by printing the other
letters of the Bishop of Ypres, which clearly show that, in
point of fact, it was merely <em>advanced</em> money, which he was
bound to refund. This appears, to your confusion, from the
following terms in the letter, to which you give the date of
July 30, 1619: “Be not uneasy about the money <em>advanced</em>;
he shall want for nothing so long as he is here;” and likewise
from another, dated January 6, 1620, where he says:
“You are in too great haste; when the account shall become
due, I have no fear but that the little credit which I have in
this place will bring me as much money as I require.”

.pm fns 278
Jansenius, who was made Bishop of Ipres or Ypres, in 1636. The
letters to which Pascal refers were printed at that time by the Jesuits
themselves, who retained the originals in their possession; these having
come into their hands in consequence of the arrest of M. De St. Cyran.
.pm fne

If you are convicted slanderers on this subject, you are
no less so in regard to the ridiculous story about the charity-box
of St. Merri. What advantage, pray, can you hope to
derive from the accusation which one of your worthy friends
has trumped up against that ecclesiastic? Are we to conclude
that a man is guilty, because he is accused? No, fathers.
Men of piety, like him, may expect to be perpetually
accused, so long as the world contains calumniators like you.
We must judge of him, therefore, not from the accusation,
but from the sentence; and the sentence pronounced on the
case (February 23, 1656) justifies him completely. Moreover,
the person who had the temerity to involve himself in
that iniquitous process, was disavowed by his colleagues, and
himself compelled to retract his charge. And as to what
you allege, in the same place, about “that famous director,
who pocketed at once nine hundred thousand livres,” I need
only refer you to Messieurs the curés of St. Roch and St.
Paul, who will bear witness, before the whole city of Paris,
to his perfect disinterestedness in the affair, and to your inexcusable
malice in that piece of imposition.

Enough, however, for such paltry falsities. These are but
the first raw attempts of your novices, and not the master-strokes
of your “grand professed.”[279] To these do I now
come, fathers; I come to a calumny which is certainly one
.bn 316.png
.pn +1
of the basest that ever issued from the spirit of your Society.
I refer to the insufferable audacity with which you have imputed
to holy nuns, and to their directors, the charge of
“disbelieving the mystery of transubstantiation, and the real
presence of Jesus Christ in the eucharist.” Here, fathers,
is a slander worthy of yourselves. Here is a crime which
God alone is capable of punishing, as you alone were capable
of committing it. To endure it with patience, would require
an humility as great as that of these calumniated ladies;
to give it credit would demand a degree of wickedness
equal to that of their wretched defamers. I propose not,
therefore, to vindicate them; they are beyond suspicion.
Had they stood in need of defence, they might have commanded
abler advocates than me. My object in what I say
here is to show, not their innocence, but your malignity. I
merely intend to make you ashamed of yourselves, and to let
the whole world understand that, after this, there is nothing
of which you are not capable.

.pm fns 279
The Jesuits must pass through a long novitiate, before they are admitted
as “professed” members of the Society.
.pm fne

You will not fail, I am certain, notwithstanding all this, to
say that I belong to Port-Royal; for this is the first thing
you say to every one who combats your errors: as if it were
only at Port-Royal that persons could be found possessed of
sufficient zeal to defend, against your attacks, the purity of
Christian morality. I know, fathers, the work of the pious
recluses who have retired to that monastery, and how much
the Church is indebted to their truly solid and edifying labors.
I know the excellence of their piety and their learning.
For, though I have never had the honor to belong to their
establishment, as you, without knowing who or what I am,
would fain have it believed, nevertheless, I do know some of
them, and honor the virtue of them all. But God has not
confined within the precincts of that society all whom he
means to raise up in opposition to your corruptions. I hope,
with his assistance, fathers, to make you feel this; and if he
vouchsafe to sustain me in the design he has led me to form,
of employing in his service all the resources I have received
from him, I shall speak to you in such a strain as will, perhaps,
.bn 317.png
.pn +1
give you reason to regret that you have <em>not</em> had to do
with a man of Port-Royal. And to convince you of this,
fathers, I must tell you that, while those whom you have
abused with this notorious slander content themselves with
lifting up their groans to Heaven to obtain your forgiveness
for the outrage, I feel myself obliged, not being in the least
affected by your slander, to make you blush in the face of
the whole Church, and so bring you to that wholesome
shame of which the Scripture speaks, and which is almost
the only remedy for a hardness of heart like yours: “<lang=la><i>Imple
facies eorum ignominiâ, et quærent nomen tuum, Domine</i></lang>—Fill
their faces with shame, that they may seek thy name,
O Lord.”[280]

.pm fns 280
Ps. lxxxiii. 16.
.pm fne

A stop must be put to this insolence, which does not spare
the most sacred retreats. For who can be safe after a calumny
of this nature? For shame, fathers! to publish
in Paris such a scandalous book, with the name of your
Father Meynier on its front, and under this infamous title,
“Port-Royal and Geneva in concert against the most holy
Sacrament of the Altar,” in which you accuse of this apostasy,
not only Monsieur the abbé of St. Cyran, and M. Arnauld,
but also Mother Agnes, his sister, and all the nuns of
that monastery, alleging that “their faith, in regard to the
eucharist, is as suspicious as that of M. Arnauld,” whom you
maintain to be “a downright Calvinist.”[281] I here ask the
whole world if there be any class of persons within the pale
of the Church, on whom you could have advanced such an
abominable charge with less semblance of truth. For tell
me, fathers, if these nuns and their directors, had been “in
concert with Geneva against the most holy sacrament of the
altar” (the very thought of which is shocking), how they
should have come to select as the principal object of their
piety that very sacrament which they held in abomination?
How should they have assumed the habit of the holy sacrament?
taken the name of the Daughters of the Holy Sacrament?
called their church the Church of the Holy Sacrament?
.bn 318.png
.pn +1
How should they have requested and obtained from
Rome the confirmation of that institution, and the right of
saying every Thursday the office of the holy sacrament, in
which the faith of the Church is so perfectly expressed, if
they had conspired with Geneva to banish that faith from
the Church? Why would they have bound themselves, by
a particular devotion, also sanctioned by the pope, to have
some of their sisterhood, night and day without intermission,
in presence of the sacred host, to compensate, by their perpetual
adorations towards that perpetual sacrifice, for the
impiety of the heresy that aims at its annihilation? Tell me,
fathers, if you can, why, of all the mysteries of our religion,
they should have passed by those in which they believed,
to fix upon that in which they believed not? and how they
should have devoted themselves, so fully and entirely, to
that mystery of our faith, if they took it, as the heretics do,
for the mystery of iniquity? And what answer do you give
to these clear evidences, embodied not in words only, but in
actions; and not in some particular actions, but in the whole
tenor of a life expressly dedicated to the adoration of Jesus
Christ, dwelling on our altars? What answer, again, do
you give to the books which you ascribe to Port-Royal, all
of which are full of the most precise terms employed by the
fathers and the councils to mark the essence of that mystery?
It is at once ridiculous and disgusting to hear you replying
to these, as you have done throughout your libel. M. Arnauld,
say you, talks very well about transubstantiation; but
he understands, perhaps, only “a significative transubstantiation.”
True, he professes to believe in “the real presence;”
who can tell, however, but he means nothing more
than “a true and real figure?” How now, fathers! whom,
pray, will you not make pass for a Calvinist whenever you
please, if you are to be allowed the liberty of perverting the
most canonical and sacred expressions by the wicked subtilties
of your modern equivocations? Who ever thought of
using any other terms than those in question, especially in
simple discourses of devotion, where no controversies are
.bn 319.png
.pn +1
handled? And yet the love and the reverence in which
they hold this sacred mystery, have induced them to give it
such a prominence in all their writings, that I defy you, fathers,
with all your cunning, to detect in them either the
least appearance of ambiguity, or the slightest correspondence
with the sentiments of Geneva.

.pm fns 281
Pp. 96, 4.
.pm fne

Everybody knows, fathers, that the essence of the Genevan
heresy consists, as it does according to your own showing, in
their believing that Jesus Christ is not contained (<lang=fr><i>enfermé</i></lang>),
in this sacrament; that it is impossible he can be in many
places at once; that he is, properly speaking, only in heaven,
and that it is as there alone that he ought to be adored, and
not on the altar;[282] that the substance of the bread remains;
that the body of Jesus Christ does not enter into the mouth
or the stomach; that he can only be eaten by faith, and
accordingly wicked men do not eat him at all; and that the
mass is not a sacrifice, but an abomination. Let us now hear,
then, in what way “Port-Royal is in concert with Geneva.”
In the writings of the former we read, to your confusion, the
following statement: That “the flesh and blood of Jesus
Christ are contained under the species of bread and wine;”[283]
that “the Holy of Holies is present in the sanctuary, and
that there he ought to be adored;”[284] that “Jesus Christ
dwells in the sinners who communicate, by the real and veritable
presence of his body in their stomach, although not by
.bn 320.png
.pn +1
the presence of his Spirit in their hearts;”[285] that “the dead
ashes of the bodies of the saints derive their principal dignity
from that seed of life which they retain from the touch of
the immortal and vivifying flesh of Jesus Christ;”[286] that “it
is not owing to any natural power, but to the almighty
power of God, to whom nothing is impossible, that the body
of Jesus Christ is comprehended under the host, and under
the smallest portion of every host;”[287] that “the divine virtue
is present to produce the effect which the words of consecration
signify;”[288] that “Jesus Christ, while he is lowered
(<lang=fr><i>rabaissé</i></lang>), and hidden upon the altar, is, at the same time,
elevated in his glory; that he subsists, of himself and by his
own ordinary power, in divers places at the same time—in
the midst of the Church triumphant, and in the midst of the
Church militant and travelling;”[289] that “the sacramental
species remain suspended, and subsist extraordinarily, without
being upheld by any subject; and that the body of
Jesus Christ is also suspended under the species, and that it
does not depend upon these, as substances depend upon
accidents;”[290] that “the substance of the bread is changed,
the immutable accidents remaining the same;”[291] that “Jesus
Christ reposes in the eucharist with the same glory that he
has in heaven;”[292] that “his glorious humanity resides in
the tabernacles of the Church, under the species of bread,
which forms its visible covering; and that, knowing the
grossness of our natures, he conducts us to the adoration of
his divinity, which is present in all places, by the adoring of
his humanity, which is present in a particular place;”[293] that
“we receive the body of Jesus Christ upon the tongue,
which is sanctified by its divine touch;”[294] “that it enters
into the mouth of the priest;”[295] that “although Jesus Christ
.bn 321.png
.pn +1
has made himself accessible in the holy sacrament, by an act
of his love and graciousness, he preserves, nevertheless, in
that ordinance, his inaccessibility, as an inseparable condition
of his divine nature; because, although the body alone and
the blood alone are there, by virtue of the words <lang=la><i>vi verborum</i></lang>,
as the schoolmen say, his whole divinity may, notwithstanding,
be there also, as well as his whole humanity, by a necessary
conjunction.”[296] In fine, that “the eucharist is at the
same time sacrament and sacrifice;”[297] and that “although
this sacrifice is a commemoration of that of the cross, yet
there is this difference between them, that the sacrifice of the
mass is offered for the Church only, and for the faithful in
her communion; whereas that of the cross has been offered
for all the world, as the Scripture testifies.”[298]

.pm fns 282
It is hardly necessary to observe, that in this passage the Protestant
faith on the supper is not fairly represented. The Reformers did not deny
that Christ was really present in that sacrament. They held that he
was present spiritually, though not corporeally. Some of them expressed
themselves strongly in opposition to those who spoke of the supper
as a mere or bare sign. Calvin says: “There are two things in
the sacrament—corporeal symbols, by which things invisible are proposed
to the senses; and a spiritual truth, which is represented and
sealed by the symbols. In the mystery of the supper, Christ is <em>truly</em>
exhibited to us, and therefore his body and blood.” (Inst., lib. iv., cap.
17, 11.) “The body of Christ,” says Peter Martyr (Loc. Com., iv. 10),
“is not <em>substantially</em> present anywhere but in heaven. I do not, however,
deny that his true body and true blood, which were offered for human
redemption on the cross, are <em>spiritually</em> partaken of by believers in
the holy supper.” This is the general sentiment of Protestant divines.
(De Moor, in Marck, Compend. Theol., p. v. 679, &c.)
.pm fne

.pm fns 283
Second letter of M. Arnauld, p. 259.
.pm fne

.pm fns 284
Ibid., p. 243.
.pm fne

.pm fns 285
Frequent Communion, 3d part, ch. 16. <lang=fr><i>Poitrine</i></lang>—that is, the
bodily breast or stomach, in opposition to <lang=fr><i>cœur</i></lang>—the heart or soul.
.pm fne

.pm fns 286
Ibid., 1st part, ch. 40.
.pm fne

.pm fns 287
Theolog. Fam., lec. 15.
.pm fne

.pm fns 288
Ibid.
.pm fne

.pm fns 289
De la Suspension. Rais. 21.
.pm fne

.pm fns 290
Ibid., p. 23.
.pm fne

.pm fns 291
Hours of the Holy Sacrament, in Prose.
.pm fne

.pm fns 292
Letters of M. de St. Cyran, tom. i., let. 93.
.pm fne

.pm fns 293
Ibid.
.pm fne

.pm fns 294
Letter 32.
.pm fne

.pm fns 295
Letter 72.
.pm fne

.pm fns 296
Defence of the Chaplet of the H. Sacrament, p. 217.
.pm fne

.pm fns 297
Theol. Famil., lec. 15.
.pm fne

.pm fns 298
Ibid., p. 153.
.pm fne

I have quoted enough, fathers, to make it evident that
there was never, perhaps, a more imprudent thing attempted
than what you have done. But I will go a step farther, and
make you pronounce this sentence against yourselves. For
what do you require from a man, in order to remove all suspicion
of his being in concert and correspondence with
Geneva? “If M. Arnauld,” says your Father Meynier,
p. 93, “had said that in this adorable mystery, there is no
substance of the bread under the species, but only the flesh
and the blood of Jesus Christ, I should have confessed that
he had declared himself absolutely against Geneva.” Confess
it, then, ye revilers! and make him a public apology.
How often have you seen this declaration made in the passages
I have just cited? Besides this, however, the Familiar
Theology of M. de St. Cyran having been approved by
M. Arnauld, it contains the sentiments of both. Read,
then, the whole of lesson 15th, and particularly article 2d,
and you will there find the words you desiderate, even
more formally stated than you have done yourselves. “Is
there any bread in the host, or any wine in the chalice?
No: for all the substance of the bread and the wine
.bn 322.png
.pn +1
is taken away, to give place to that of the body and
blood of Jesus Christ, the which substance alone remains
therein, covered by the qualities and species of bread and
wine.”

How now, fathers! will you still say that Port-Royal
teaches “nothing that Geneva does not receive,” and that
M. Arnauld has said nothing in his second letter “which
might not have been said by a minister of Charenton?” See
if you can persuade Mestrezat[299] to speak as M. Arnauld does
in that letter, at page 237? Make him say, that it is an infamous
calumny to accuse him of denying transubstantiation;
that he takes for the fundamental principle of his writings the
truth of the real presence of the Son of God, in opposition to
the heresy of the Calvinists; and that he accounts himself
happy for living in a place where the Holy of Holies is continually
adored in the sanctuary—a sentiment which is still
more opposed to the belief of the Calvinists than the real presence
itself; for as Cardinal Richelieu observes in his Controversies
(page 536): “The new ministers of France having agreed
with the Lutherans, who believe the real presence of Jesus
Christ in the eucharist; they have declared that they remain
in a state of separation from the Church on the point of this
mystery, only on account of the adoration which Catholics
render to the eucharist.”[300] Get all the passages which I have
extracted from the books of Port-Royal subscribed at Geneva,
.bn 323.png
.pn +1
and not the isolated passages merely, but the entire treatises
regarding this mystery, such as the Book of Frequent Communion,
the Explication of the Ceremonies of the Mass, the
Exercise during Mass, the Reasons of the Suspension of the
Holy Sacrament, the Translation of the Hymns in the Hours
of Port-Royal, &c.; in one word, prevail upon them to establish
at Charenton that holy institution of adoring, without
intermission, Jesus Christ contained in the eucharist, as is
done at Port-Royal, and it will be the most signal service
which you could render to the Church; for in this case it
will turn out, not that Port-Royal is in concert with Geneva,
but that Geneva is in concert with Port-Royal, and with the
whole Church.

.pm fns 299
<i>John Mestrezat</i>, Protestant minister of Paris, was born at Geneva
in 1592 and died in May 1657. His Sermons on the Epistle to the Hebrews
and other discourses, published after his death, are truly excellent.
This learned and eloquent divine frequently engaged in controversy
with the Romanists, and on one occasion managed the debate
with such spirit that Cardinal Richelieu, taking hold of his shoulder,
exclaimed: “This is the boldest minister in France.” (Bayle, Dict.,
art. <cite>Mestrezat</cite>.)
.pm fne

.pm fns 300
The statement of the Protestant faith, given in a preceding note,
may suffice to show that it differs, <lang=la><i>toto cœlo</i></lang>, from that of Rome, as this
is explained in the text. The leading fallacy of the Romish creed on
this subject is the monstrous dogma of transubstantiation; the adoration
of the host is merely a corollary. Calvinists and Lutherans though
differing in their views of the ordinance, always agreed in acknowledging
the <em>real</em> presence of Christ in the eucharist, though they consider the
sense in which Romanists interpret that term to be chargeable with blasphemy
and absurdity.
.pm fne

Certainly, fathers, you could not have been more unfortunate
than in selecting Port-Royal as the object of attack
for not believing in the eucharist; but I will show what led
you to fix upon it. You know I have picked up some small
acquaintance with your policy; in this instance you have
acted upon its maxims to admiration. If Monsieur the abbé
of St. Cyran, and M. Arnauld, had only spoken of what
ought to be believed with great respect to this mystery, and
said nothing about what ought to be done in the way of
preparation for its reception, they might have been the best
Catholics alive; and no equivocations would have been discovered
in their use of the terms “real presence” and “transubstantiation.”
But since all who combat your licentious
principles must needs be heretics, and heretics too, in the
very point in which they condemn your laxity, how could
M. Arnauld escape falling under this charge on the subject
of the eucharist, after having published a book expressly
against your profanations of that sacrament? What! must
he be allowed to say, with impunity, that “the body of Jesus
Christ ought not to be given to those who habitually lapse
into the same crimes, and who have no prospect of amendment;
and that such persons ought to be excluded, for some
time, from the altar, to purify themselves by sincere penitence,
that they may approach it afterwards with benefit?”
.bn 324.png
.pn +1
Suffer no one to talk in this strain, fathers, or you will find
that fewer people will come to your confessionals. Father
Brisacier says, that “were you to adopt this course, you
would never apply the blood of Jesus Christ to a single individual.”
It would be infinitely more for your interest were
every one to adopt the views of your Society, as set forth by
your Father Mascarenhas, in a book approved by your doctors,
and even by your reverend Father-General, namely,
“That persons of every description, and even priests, may
receive the body of Jesus Christ on the very day they have
polluted themselves with odious crimes; that so far from
such communions implying irreverence, persons who partake
of them in this manner act a commendable part; that confessors
ought not to keep them back from the ordinance, but,
on the contrary, ought to advise those who have recently
committed such crimes to communicate immediately; because,
although the Church has forbidden it, this prohibition
is annulled by the universal practice in all places of the
earth.”[301]

.pm fns 301
Mascar., tr. 4, disp. 5, n. 284.
.pm fne

See what it is, fathers, to have Jesuits in all places of the
earth! Behold the universal practice which you have introduced,
and which you are anxious everywhere to maintain!
It matters nothing that the tables of Jesus Christ are filled
with abominations, provided that your churches are crowded
with people. Be sure, therefore, cost what it may, to set
down all that dare to say a word against your practice, as
heretics on the holy sacrament. But how can you do this,
after the irrefragable testimonies which they have given of
their faith? Are you not afraid of my coming out with the
four grand proofs of their heresy which you have adduced?
You ought, at least, to be so, fathers, and I ought not to
spare your blushing. Let us, then, proceed to examine
proof the first.

“M. de St. Cyran,” says Father Meynier, “consoling one
of his friends upon the death of his mother (tom. i., let. 14),
says that the most acceptable sacrifice that can be offered up
.bn 325.png
.pn +1
to God on such occasions, is that of patience; therefore he
is a Calvinist.” This is marvellously shrewd reasoning, fathers;
and I doubt if anybody will be able to discover the
precise point of it. Let us learn it, then, from his own
mouth. “Because,” says this mighty controversialist, “it is
obvious that he does not believe in the sacrifice of the mass;
for this is, of all other sacrifices, the most acceptable unto
God.” Who will venture to say now that the Jesuits do not
know how to reason? Why, they know the art to such perfection,
that they will extract heresy out of anything you
choose to mention, not even excepting the Holy Scripture
itself! For example, might it not be heretical to say, with
the wise man in Ecclesiasticus, “There is nothing worse than
to love money;”[302] as if adultery, murder, or idolatry, were
not far greater crimes? Where is the man who is not in the
habit of using similar expressions every day? May we not
say, for instance, that the most acceptable of all sacrifices in
the eyes of God is that of a contrite and humbled heart; just
because, in discourses of this nature, we simply mean to compare
certain internal virtues with one another, and not with
the sacrifice of the mass, which is of a totally different order,
and infinitely more exalted? Is this not enough to make you
ridiculous, fathers? And is it necessary, to complete your
discomfiture, that I should quote the passages of that letter
in which M. de St. Cyran speaks of the sacrifice of the mass,
as “the most excellent” of all others, in the following terms?
“Let there be presented to God, daily and in all places, the
sacrifice of the body of his Son, who could not find <em>a more
excellent way</em> than that by which he might honor his Father.”
And afterwards: “Jesus Christ has enjoined us to
take, when we are dying, his sacrificed body, to render more
acceptable to God the sacrifice of our own, and to join himself
with us at the hour of dissolution; to the end that he
may strengthen us for the struggle, sanctifying, by his presence,
the last sacrifice which we make to God of our life and
our body?” Pretend to take no notice of all this, fathers, and
.bn 326.png
.pn +1
persist in maintaining, as you do in page 39, that he refused
to take the communion on his death-bed, and that he did not
believe in the sacrifice of the mass. Nothing can be too gross
for calumniators by profession.

.pm fns 302
Ecclesiasticus (Apocrypha).
.pm fne

Your second proof furnishes an excellent illustration of this.
To make a Calvinist of M. de St. Cyran, to whom you ascribe
the book of <cite>Petrus Aurelius</cite>, you take advantage of a passage
(page 80) in which Aurelius explains in what manner
the Church acts towards priests, and even bishops, whom she
wishes to degrade or depose. “The Church,” he says, “being
incapable of depriving them of the power of the order,
the character of which is indelible, she does all that she can
do;—she banishes from her memory the character which she
cannot banish from the souls of the individuals who have been
once invested with it; she regards them in the same light as
if they were not bishops or priests; so that, according to the
ordinary language of the Church, it may be said they are no
longer such, although they always remain such, in as far as
the character is concerned—<lang=la><i>ob indelebilitatem characteris</i></lang>.”
You perceive, fathers, that this author, who has been approved
by three general assemblies of the clergy of France,
plainly declares that the character of the priesthood is indelible;
and yet you make him say, on the contrary, in the very
same passage, that “the character of the priesthood is <em>not</em>
indelible.” This is what I would call a notorious slander; in
other words, according to your nomenclature, a small venial
sin. And the reason is, this book has done you some harm,
by refuting the heresies of your brethren in England touching
the Episcopal authority. But the folly of the charge is
equally remarkable; for, after having taken it for granted,
without any foundation, that M. de St. Cyran holds the
priestly character to be not indelible, you conclude from this
that he does not believe in the real presence of Jesus Christ
in the eucharist.

Do not expect me to answer this, fathers. If you have
got no common sense, I am not able to furnish you with it.
All who possess any share of it will enjoy a hearty laugh at
.bn 327.png
.pn +1
your expense. Nor will they treat with greater respect your
third proof, which rests upon the following words, taken from
the Book of Frequent Communion: “In the eucharist God
vouchsafes us <em>the same food</em> that he bestows on the saints in
heaven, with this difference only, that here he withholds from
us its sensible sight and taste, reserving both of these for the
heavenly world.”[303] These words express the sense of the
Church so distinctly, that I am constantly forgetting what
reason you have for picking a quarrel with them, in order to
turn them to a bad use; for I can see nothing more in them
but what the Council of Trent teaches (sess. xiii., c. 8),
namely, that there is no difference between Jesus Christ in
the eucharist and Jesus Christ in heaven, except that here he
is veiled, and there he is not. M. Arnauld does not say that
there is no difference in the manner of receiving Jesus Christ,
but only that there is no difference in Jesus Christ who is received.
And yet you would, in the face of all reason, interpret
his language in this passage to mean, that Jesus Christ
is no more eaten with the mouth in this world than he is in
heaven; upon which you ground the charge of heresy against
him.

.pm fns 303
Freq. Com., 3 part, ch. 11.
.pm fne

You really make me sorry for you, fathers. Must we explain
this further to you? Why do you confound that divine
nourishment with the manner of receiving it? There is but
one point of difference, as I have just observed, betwixt that
nourishment upon earth and in heaven, which is, that here it
is hidden under veils which deprive us of its sensible sight
and taste; but there are various points of dissimilarity in the
manner of receiving it here and there, the principal of which
is, as M. Arnauld expresses it (p. 3, ch. 16), “that here it enters
into the mouth and the breast both of the good and of
the wicked,” which is not the case in heaven.

And if you require to be told the reason of this diversity,
I may inform you, fathers, that the cause of God’s ordaining
these different modes of receiving the same food, is the difference
that exists betwixt the state of Christians in this life
.bn 328.png
.pn +1
and that of the blessed in heaven. The state of the Christian,
as Cardinal Perron observes after the fathers, holds a
middle place between the state of the blessed and the state
of the Jews. The spirits in bliss possess Jesus Christ really,
without veil or figure. The Jews possessed Jesus Christ
only in figures and veils, such as the manna and the paschal
lamb. And Christians possess Jesus Christ in the eucharist
really and truly, although still concealed under veils. “God,”
says St. Eucher, “has made three tabernacles—the synagogue,
which had the shadows only, without the truth; the
Church, which has the truth and shadows together; and
heaven, where there is no shadow, but the truth alone.” It
would be a departure from our present state, which is the
state of faith, opposed by St. Paul alike to the law and to
open vision, did we possess the figures only, without Jesus
Christ; for it is the property of the law to have the mere
figure, and not the substance of things. And it would be
equally a departure from our present state if we possessed
him visibly; because faith, according to the same apostle,
deals not with things that are seen. And thus the eucharist,
from its including Jesus Christ truly, though under a veil, is
in perfect accordance with our state of faith. It follows,
that this state would be destroyed, if, as the heretics maintain,
Jesus Christ were not really under the species of bread
and wine; and it would be equally destroyed if we received
him openly, as they do in heaven: since, on these suppositions,
our state would be confounded, either with the state of
Judaism or with that of glory.

Such, fathers, is the mysterious and divine reason of this
most divine mystery. This it is that fills us with abhorrence
at the Calvinists, who would reduce us to the condition of
the Jews; and this it is that makes us aspire to the glory of
the beatified, where we shall be introduced to the full and
eternal enjoyment of Jesus Christ. From hence you must
see that there are several points of difference between the
manner in which he communicates himself to Christians and
to the blessed; and that, amongst others, he is in this world
.bn 329.png
.pn +1
received by the mouth, and not so in heaven; but that they
all depend solely on the distinction between our state of faith
and their state of immediate vision. And this is precisely,
fathers, what M. Arnauld has expressed, with great plainness,
in the following terms: “There can be no other difference
between the purity of those who receive Jesus Christ in the
eucharist and that of the blessed, than what exists between
faith and the open vision of God, upon which alone depends
the different manner in which he is eaten upon earth and in
heaven.” You were bound in duty, fathers, to have revered
in these words the sacred truths they express, instead of
wresting them for the purpose of detecting an heretical meaning
which they never contained, nor could possibly contain,
namely, that Jesus Christ is eaten by faith only, and not
by the mouth; the malicious perversion of your Fathers
Annat and Meynier, which forms the capital count of their
indictment.

Conscious, however, of the wretched deficiency of your
proofs, you have had recourse to a new artifice, which is nothing
less than to falsify the Council of Trent, in order to
convict M. Arnauld of nonconformity with it; so vast is your
store of methods for making people heretics. This feat has
been achieved by Father Meynier, in fifty different places of
his book, and about eight or ten times in the space of a single
page (the 54th), wherein he insists that to speak like a
true Catholic, it is not enough to say, “I believe that Jesus
Christ is really present in the eucharist,” but we must say,
“I believe, <em>with the council</em>, that he is present by a true
<em>local presence</em>, or locally.” And in proof of this, he cites the
council, session xiii., canon 3d, canon 4th, and canon 6th.
Who would not suppose, upon seeing the term <em>local presence</em>
quoted from three canons of a universal council, that the
phrase was actually to be found in them? This might have
served your turn very well, before the appearance of my
fifteenth letter; but as matters now stand, fathers, the trick
has become too stale for us. We go our way and consult
the council, and discover only that you are falsifiers. Such
.bn 330.png
.pn +1
terms as <em>local presence</em>, <em>locally</em>, and <em>locality</em>, never existed in
the passages to which you refer; and let me tell you further,
they are not to be found in any other canon of that council,
nor in any other previous council, nor in any father of the
Church. Allow me, then, to ask you, fathers, if you mean
to cast the suspicion of Calvinism upon all that have not
made use of that peculiar phrase? If this be the case, the
Council of Trent must be suspected of heresy, and all the
holy fathers without exception. Have you no other way
of making M. Arnauld heretical, without abusing so many
other people who never did you any harm, and among the
rest, St. Thomas, who is one of the greatest champions of the
eucharist, and who, so far from employing that term, has expressly
rejected it—“<lang=la><i>Nullo modo corpus Christi est in hoc
sacramento localiter?</i></lang>—By no means is the body of Christ in
this sacrament <em>locally</em>?” Who are you, then, fathers, to
pretend, on your authority, to impose new terms, and ordain
them to be used by all for rightly expressing their faith; as
if the profession of the faith, drawn up by the popes according
to the plan of the council, in which this term has no
place, were defective, and left an ambiguity in the creed of
the faithful, which you had the sole merit of discovering?
Such a piece of arrogance, to prescribe these terms, even to
learned doctors! such a piece of forgery, to attribute them
to general councils! and such ignorance, not to know the objections
which the most enlightened saints have made to their
reception! “Be ashamed of the error of your ignorance,”[304]
as the Scripture says of ignorant impostors like you—<lang=la><i>De
mendacio ineruditionis tuæ confundere</i></lang>.

.pm fns 304
Eccles. iv. 25 (Apocrypha).
.pm fne

Give up all further attempts, then, to act the masters;
you have neither character nor capacity for the part. If,
however, you would bring forward your propositions with
a little more modesty, they might obtain a hearing. For
although this phrase, <em>local presence</em>, has been rejected, as
you have seen, by St. Thomas, on the ground that the body
of Jesus Christ is not in the eucharist, in the ordinary extension
.bn 331.png
.pn +1
of bodies in their places, the expression has, nevertheless,
been adopted by some modern controversial writers, who
understand it simply to mean that the body of Jesus Christ
is truly under the species, which being in a particular place,
the body of Jesus Christ is there also. And in this sense M.
Arnauld will make no scruple to admit the term, as M. de
St. Cyran[305] and he have repeatedly declared that Jesus Christ
in the eucharist is truly in a particular place, and miraculously
in many places at the same time. Thus all your subtleties
fall to the ground; and you have failed to give the slightest
semblance of plausibility to an accusation, which ought not to
have been allowed to show its face, without being supported
by the most unanswerable proofs.

.pm fns 305
<i>Jean du Verger de Hauranne, the Abbé de Saint Cyran</i> was born
at Bayonne in 1581. He was the intimate friend of Jansenius and a
man of great piety and talents, but was seized as a heretic, and thrown
by Cardinal Richelieu into the dungeon of Vincennes. After five years’
imprisonment he was released, but died shortly after, October, 11, 1643.
By his followers, M. de Saint Cyran was reverenced as a saint and a
martyr.
.pm fne

But what avails it, fathers, to oppose their innocence to
your calumnies? You impute these errors to them, not in
the belief that they maintain heresy, but from the idea that
they have done you injury. That is enough, according to
your theology, to warrant you to calumniate them without
criminality; and you can, without either penance or confession,
say mass, at the very time that you charge priests, who
say it every day, with holding it to be pure idolatry; which,
were it true, would amount to sacrilege no less revolting than
that of your own Father Jarrige, whom you yourselves ordered
to be hanged in effigy, for having said mass “at the
time he was in agreement with Geneva.”[306]

.pm fns 306
This Father Jarrige was a famous Jesuit, who became a Protestant,
and published, after his separation from Rome, a book, entitled
“<cite>Le Jesuite sur l’Echaffaut</cite>—The Jesuit on the Scaffold,” in which he
treats his old friends with no mercy.
.pm fne

What surprises me, therefore, is not the little scrupulosity
with which you load them with crimes of the foulest and
falsest description, but the little prudence you display, by fixing
on them charges so destitute of plausibility. You dispose
.bn 332.png
.pn +1
of sins, it is true, at your pleasure; but do you mean to dispose
of men’s beliefs too? Verily, fathers, if the suspicion
of Calvinism must needs fall either on them or on you, you
would stand, I fear, on very ticklish ground. Their language
is as Catholic as yours; but their conduct confirms their
faith, and your conduct belies it. For if you believe, as well
as they do, that the bread is really changed into the body of
Jesus Christ, why do you not require, as they do, from those
whom you advise to approach the altar, that the heart of
stone and ice should be sincerely changed into a heart of
flesh and of love? If you believe that Jesus Christ is in that
sacrament in a state of death, teaching those that approach
it to die to the world, to sin, and to themselves, why do you
suffer those to profane it in whose breasts evil passions continue
to reign in all their life and vigor? And how do you
come to judge those worthy to eat the bread of heaven, who
are not worthy to eat that of earth?

Precious votaries, truly, whose zeal is expended in persecuting
those who honor this sacred mystery by so many holy
communions, and in flattering those who dishonor it by so many
sacrilegious desecrations! How comely is it in these champions
of a sacrifice so pure and so venerable, to collect around
the table of Jesus Christ a crowd of hardened profligates,
reeking from their debaucheries; and to plant in the midst
of them a priest, whom his own confessor has hurried from
his obscenities to the altar; there, in the place of Jesus Christ,
to offer up that most holy victim to the God of holiness, and
convey it, with his polluted hands, into mouths as thoroughly
polluted as his own! How well does it become those who
pursue this course “in all parts of the world,” in conformity
with maxims sanctioned by their own general, to impute to the
author of Frequent Communion, and to the Sisters of the Holy
Sacrament, the crime of not believing in that sacrament!

Even this, however, does not satisfy them. Nothing less
will satiate their rage than to accuse their opponents of having
renounced Jesus Christ and their baptism. This is no
air-built fable, like those of your invention; it is a fact, and
.bn 333.png
.pn +1
denotes a delirious frenzy, which marks the fatal consummation
of your calumnies. Such a notorious falsehood as this
would not have been in hands worthy to support it, had it
remained in those of your good friend Filleau, through whom
you ushered it into the world: your Society has openly
adopted it; and your Father Meynier maintained it the other
day to be “<em>a certain truth</em>,” that Port-Royal has, for the
space of thirty-five years, been forming a secret plot, of
which M. de St. Cyran and M. D’Ypres have been the ring-leaders,
“to ruin the mystery of the incarnation—to make
the Gospel pass for an apocryphal fable—to exterminate the
Christian religion, and to erect Deism upon the ruins of
Christianity.” Is this enough, fathers? Will you be satisfied
if all this be believed of the objects of your hate? Would
your animosity be glutted at length, if you could but succeed
in making them odious, not only to all within the Church, by
the charge of “<em>consenting with Geneva</em>,” of which you accuse
them, but even to all who believe in Jesus Christ, though
beyond the pale of the Church, by the imputation of <em>Deism</em>?

But whom do you expect to convince, upon your simple
asseveration, without the slightest shadow of proof, and in
the face of every imaginable contradiction, that priests who
preach nothing but the grace of Jesus Christ, the purity of
the Gospel, and the obligations of baptism, have renounced
at once their baptism, the Gospel, and Jesus Christ? Who
will believe it, fathers? Wretched as you are,[307] do you believe
it yourselves? What a sad predicament is yours, when
you must either prove that they do not believe in Jesus
Christ, or must pass for the most abandoned calumniators.
Prove it, then, fathers. Name that “<em>worthy clergyman</em>,”
who, you say, attended that assembly at Bourg-Fontaine[308]
.bn 334.png
.pn +1
in 1621, and discovered to Brother Filleau the design there
concerted of overturning the Christian religion. Name these
six persons who you allege to have formed that conspiracy.
Name the <em>individual who is designated by the letters A. A.</em>,
who you say “<em>was not Antony Arnauld</em>” (because he convinced
you that he was at that time only nine years of age),
“<em>but another person, who you say is still in life, but too good
a friend of M. Arnauld not to be known to him</em>.” You know
him, then, fathers; and consequently, if you are not destitute
of religion yourselves, you are bound to delate that impious
wretch to the king and parliament, that he may be punished
according to his deserts. You must speak out, fathers; you
must name the person, or submit to the disgrace of being
henceforth regarded in no other light than as common liars,
unworthy of being ever credited again. Good Father Valerien
has taught us that this is the way in which such characters
should be “put to the rack,” and brought to their
senses. Your silence upon the present challenge will furnish
a full and satisfactory confirmation of this diabolical
calumny. Your blindest admirers will be constrained to
admit, that it will be “the result, not of your goodness, but
your impotency;” and to wonder how you could be so wicked
as to extend your hatred even to the nuns of Port-Royal, and
to say, as you do in page 14, that <i>The Secret Chaplet of the
Holy Sacrament</i>,[309] composed by one of their number, was
the first-fruit of that conspiracy against Jesus Christ; or, as
in page 95, that “they have imbibed all the detestable principles
of that work;” which is, according to your account,
“a lesson in Deism.” Your falsehoods regarding that book
have already been triumphantly refuted, in the defence of
.bn 335.png
.pn +1
the censure of the late Archbishop of Paris against Father
Brisacier. That publication you are incapable of answering;
and yet you do not scruple to abuse it in a more shameful
manner than ever, for the purpose of charging women, whose
piety is universally known, with the vilest blasphemy.

.pm fns 307
<lang=fr><i>Misérables que vous êtes</i></lang>—one of the bitterest expressions which
Pascal has applied to his opponents and one which they have deeply
felt, but the full force of which can hardly be rendered into English.
.pm fne

.pm fns 308
With regard to this famous assembly at Bourg-Fontaine, in which
it was alleged a conspiracy was formed by the Jansenists against the
Christian religion, the curious reader may consult the work of M. Arnauld
entitled <cite>Morale Pratique des Jesuites</cite>, vol. viii., where there is a
detailed account of the whole proceedings. (Nicole, iv. 283.)
.pm fne

.pm fns 309
<i>The Secret Chaplet of the most Holy Sacrament.</i>—Such was the
title of a very harmless piece of mystic devotion of three or four pages,
the production of a nun of Port-Royal, called Sister Agnès de Saint
Paul, which appeared in 1628. It excited the jealousy of the Archbishop
of Sens—set the doctors of Paris and those of Louvain by the
ears—occasioned a war of pamphlets and was finally carried by appeal
to the Court of Rome, by which it was suppressed. (Nicole, iv. 302.)
Agnès de St. Paul was the younger sister of the Mère Angélique Arnauld,
and both of them were sisters of the celebrated M. Arnauld.
.pm fne

Cruel, cowardly persecutors! Must, then, the most retired
cloisters afford no retreat from your calumnies? While
these consecrated virgins are employed, night and day, according
to their institution, in adoring Jesus Christ in the
holy sacrament, you cease not, night nor day, to publish
abroad that they do not believe that he is either in the eucharist
or even at the right hand of his Father; and you are
publicly excommunicating them from the Church, at the
very time when they are in secret praying for the whole
Church, and for you! You blacken with your slanders
those who have neither ears to hear nor mouths to answer
you! But Jesus Christ, in whom they are now hidden, not
to appear till one day together with him, hears you, and answers
for them. At the moment I am now writing, that
holy and terrible voice is heard which confounds nature and
consoles the Church.[310] And I fear, fathers, that those who
.bn 336.png
.pn +1
now harden their hearts, and refuse with obstinacy to hear
him, while he speaks in the character of God, will one day
be compelled to hear him with terror, when he speaks to
them in the character of a Judge. What account, indeed,
fathers, will you be able to render to him of the many calumnies
you have uttered, seeing that he will examine them,
in that day, not according to the fantasies of Fathers Dicastille,
Gans, and Pennalossa, who justify them, but according
to the eternal laws of truth, and the sacred ordinances of
his own Church, which, so far from attempting to vindicate
that crime, abhors it to such a degree that she visits it with
the same penalty as wilful murder? By the first and second
Councils of Arles she has decided that the communion shall
be denied to slanderers as well as murderers, till the approach
of death. The Council of Lateran has judged those unworthy
of admission into the ecclesiastical state who have been
convicted of the crime, even though they may have reformed.
The popes have even threatened to deprive of the communion
at death those who have calumniated bishops, priests, or
deacons. And the authors of a defamatory libel, who fail to
prove what they have advanced, are condemned by Pope
Adrian <em>to be whipped</em>;—yes, reverend fathers, <lang=la><i>flagellentur</i></lang> is
the word. So strong has been the repugnance of the Church
at all times to the errors of your Society—a Society so thoroughly
depraved as to invent excuses for the grossest of
crimes, such as calumny, chiefly that it may enjoy the greater
freedom in perpetrating them itself. There can be no doubt,
fathers, that you would be capable of producing abundance
of mischief in this way, had God not permitted you to furnish
.bn 337.png
.pn +1
with your own hands the means of preventing the evil,
and of rendering your slanders perfectly innocuous; for, to
deprive you of all credibility, it was quite enough to publish
the strange maxim, that it is no crime to calumniate. Calumny
is nothing, if not associated with a high reputation for
honesty. The defamer can make no impression, unless he
has the character of one that abhors defamation, as a crime
of which he is incapable. And thus, fathers, you are betrayed
by your own principle. You established the doctrine
to secure yourselves a safe conscience, that you might slander
without risk of damnation, and be ranked with those “pious
and holy calumniators” of whom St. Athanasius speaks. To
save yourselves from hell, you have embraced a maxim which
promises you this security on the faith of your doctors; but
this same maxim, while it guarantees you, according to their
idea, against the evils you dread in the future world, deprives
you of all the advantage you may have expected to reap
from it in the present; so that, in attempting to escape the
guilt, you have lost the benefit of calumny. Such is the self-contrariety
of evil, and so completely does it confound and
destroy itself by its own intrinsic malignity.

.pm fns 310
This refers to the celebrated miracles of “the Holy Thorn,” the first
of which, said to have lately taken place in Port-Royal, was then creating
much sensation. The facts are briefly these: A thorn, said to
have belonged to the crown of thorns worn by our Saviour, having been
presented, in March 1656, to the Monastery of Port-Royal, the nuns
and their young pupils were permitted, each in turn, to kiss the relic.
One of the latter, Margaret Perier, the niece of Pascal, a girl of about
ten or eleven years of age, had been long troubled with a disease in the
eye (<i>fistula lachrymalis</i>), which had baffled the skill of all the physicians
of Paris. On approaching the holy thorn, she applied it to the
diseased organ, and shortly thereafter exclaimed, to the surprise and
delight of all the sisters, that her eye was completely cured. A certificate,
signed by some of the most celebrated physicians, attested the cure
as, in their opinion a miraculous one. The friends of Port-Royal, and
none more than Pascal, were overjoyed at this interposition, which, being
followed by other extraordinary cures, they regarded as a voice from
heaven in favor of that institution. The Jesuits alone rejected it with
ridicule, and published a piece, entitled “<cite>Rabat-joie</cite>, &c.—A Damper:
or, Observations on what has lately happened at Port-Royal as to the
affair of the Holy Thorn.” This was answered in November 1656, in
a tract supposed to have been written by M. de Pont Château, who was
called “the Clerk of the Holy Thorn,” assisted by Pascal. (Recueil de
Pieces, &c. de Port-Royal, pp. 283–448.) It has been well observed,
“that many laborious and voluminous discussions might have been
saved, if the simple and very reasonable rule had been adopted of
waiving investigation into the credibility of any narrative of supernatural
or pretended supernatural events said to have taken place <em>upon
consecrated ground, or under sacred roofs</em>.” (Natural Hist. of Enthusiasm,
p. 236.) “It is well known,” says Mosheim, “that the Jansenists
and Augustinians have long pretended to confirm their doctrine by
miracles; and they even acknowledge that these miracles have saved
them when their affairs have been reduced to a desperate situation.”
(Mosh. Eccl. Hist., cent. xvii., sect. 2.)
.pm fne

You might have slandered, therefore, much more advantageously
for yourselves, had you professed to hold, with St.
Paul, that evil speakers are not worthy to see God; for in
this case, though you would indeed have been condemning
yourselves, your slanders would at least have stood a better
chance of being believed. But by maintaining, as you have
done, that calumny against your enemies is no crime, your
slanders will be discredited, and you yourselves damned into
the bargain; for two things are certain, fathers—first, That
it will never be in the power of your grave doctors to annihilate
the justice of God; and, secondly, That you could not
give more certain evidence that you are not of the Truth
than by your resorting to falsehood. If the Truth were on
your side, she would fight for you—she would conquer for
you; and whatever enemies you might have to encounter,
“the Truth would set you free” from them, according to her
.bn 338.png
.pn +1
promise. But you have had recourse to falsehood, for no
other design than to support the errors with which you flatter
the sinful children of this world, and to bolster up the
calumnies with which you persecute every man of piety who
sets his face against these delusions. The truth being diametrically
opposed to your ends, it behooved you, to use the
language of the prophet, “to put your confidence in lies.”
You have said, “The scourges which afflict mankind shall
not come nigh unto us; for we have made lies our refuge,
and under falsehood have we hid ourselves.”[311] But what
says the prophet in reply to such? “Forasmuch,” says he,
“as ye have put your trust in calumny and tumult—<lang=la><i>sperastis
in calumnia et in tumultu</i></lang>—this iniquity and your ruin
shall be like that of a high wall whose breaking cometh suddenly
at an instant. And he shall break it as the breaking
of the potter’s vessel that is shivered in pieces”—with such
violence that “there shall not be found in the bursting of it
a shred to take fire from the hearth, or to take water withal
out of the pit.”[312] “Because,” as another prophet says, “ye
have made the heart of the righteous sad, whom I have not
made sad; and ye have flattered and strengthened the malice
of the wicked; I will therefore deliver my people out
of your hands, and ye shall know that I am their Lord and
yours.”[313]

.pm fns 311
Isa. xxviii. 15.
.pm fne

.pm fns 312
Isa. xxx. 12–14.
.pm fne

.pm fns 313
Ezek. xiii. 23. Pascal does not, either here or elsewhere, when
quoting from Scripture, adhere very closely to the original, nor even to
the Vulgate version.
.pm fne

Yes, fathers, it is to be hoped that if you do not repent,
God will deliver out of your hands those whom you have so
long deluded, either by flattering them in their evil courses
with your licentious maxims, or by poisoning their minds
with your slanders. He will convince the former that the
false rules of your casuists will not screen them from his indignation;
and he will impress on the minds of the latter the
just dread of losing their souls by listening and yielding
credit to your slanders, as you lose yours by hatching these
.bn 339.png
.pn +1
slanders and disseminating them through the world. Let
no man be deceived; God is not mocked; none may violate
with impunity the commandment which he has given us in
the Gospel, not to condemn our neighbor without being well
assured of his guilt. And, consequently, what profession soever
of piety those may make who lend a willing ear to your
lying devices, and under what pretence soever of devotion
they may entertain them, they have reason to apprehend exclusion
from the kingdom of God, solely for having imputed
crimes of such a dark complexion as heresy and schism to
Catholic priests and holy nuns, upon no better evidence than
such vile fabrications as yours. “The devil,” says M. de
Geneve,[314] “is on the tongue of him that slanders, and in the
ear of him that listens to the slanderer.” “And evil speaking,”
says St. Bernard, “is a poison that extinguishes charity
in both of the parties; so that a single calumny may prove
mortal to an infinite number of souls, killing not only those
who publish it, but all those besides by whom it is not repudiated.”[315]

.pm fns 314
This was the name given to St. Francis de Sales, bishop and prince
of Geneva, previously to his canonization, which took place in 1665.
.pm fne

.pm fns 315
Serm. 24 in Cantic.
.pm fne

Reverend fathers, my letters were not wont either to be so
prolix, or to follow so closely on one another. Want of
time must plead my excuse for both of these faults. The
present letter is a very long one, simply because I had no
leisure to make it shorter. You know the reason of this
haste better than I do. You have been unlucky in your
answers. You have done well, therefore, to change your
plan; but I am afraid that you will get no credit for it, and
that people will say it was done for fear of the Benedictines.

.tb

I have just come to learn that the person who was generally
reported to be the author of your Apologies, disclaims
them, and is annoyed at their having been ascribed to him.
He has good reason; and I was wrong to have suspected
him of any such thing; for, in spite of the assurances which
.bn 340.png
.pn +1
I received, I ought to have considered that he was a man
of too much good sense to believe your accusations, and of
too much honor to publish them if he did not believe them.
There are few people in the world capable of your extravagances;
they are peculiar to yourselves, and mark your
character too plainly to admit of any excuse for having failed
to recognize your hand in their concoction. I was led away
by the common report; but this apology, which would be
too good for you, is not sufficient for me, who profess to advance
nothing without certain proof. In no other instance
have I been guilty of departing from this rule. I am sorry
for what I said. I retract it; and I only wish that you may
profit by my example.[316]

.pm fns 316
These two postscripts have been often admired—the former for the
author’s elegant excuse for the length of his letter; the latter for the
adroitness with which he turns his apology for an undesigned mistake
into a stroke at the disingenuousness of his opponents.
.pm fne

.fm lz=t

.bn 341.png
.pn +1

.sp 4
.h2 title="LETTER XVII."
LETTER XVII.[317]

.ce
TO THE REVEREND FATHER ANNAT, JESUIT.[318]

.fs 80%
.in +3
.ti -3
THE AUTHOR OF THE LETTERS VINDICATED FROM THE CHARGE OF
HERESY—AN HERETICAL PHANTOM—POPES AND GENERAL COUNCILS
NOT INFALLIBLE IN QUESTIONS OF FACT.
.in
.fs

.pm fns 317
M. Nicole furnished the materials for this letter. (Nicole, iv. 324.)
.pm fne

.pm fns 318
<i>Francis Annat</i>, the same person formerly referred to at #p. 102:Page_102#.
He became French provincial of the Jesuits, and confessor to Louis XIV.
.pm fne

.sp 2

.rj
<i>January 23, 1657.</i>

<sc>Reverend Father</sc>,—Your former behavior had induced
me to believe that you were anxious for a truce in our hostilities;
and I was quite disposed to agree that it should be
so. Of late, however, you have poured forth such a volley
of pamphlets, in such rapid succession, as to make it apparent
that peace rests on a very precarious footing when it depends
on the silence of Jesuits. I know not if this rupture
will prove very advantageous to you; but, for my part, I am
far from regretting the opportunity which it affords me of
rebutting that stale charge of heresy with which your writings
abound.

It is full time, indeed, that I should, once for all, put a
stop to the liberty you have taken to treat me as a heretic—a
piece of gratuitous impertinence which seems to increase
by indulgence, and which is exhibited in your last book in a
style of such intolerable assurance, that were I not to answer
the charge as it deserves, I might lay myself open to
the suspicion of being actually guilty. So long as the insult
was confined to your associates I despised it, as I did a thousand
others with which they interlarded their productions.
To these my fifteenth letter was a sufficient reply. But you
.bn 342.png
.pn +1
now repeat the charge with a different air: you make it the
main point of your vindication. It is, in fact, almost the
only thing in the shape of argument that you employ. You
say that, “as a complete answer to my fifteen letters, it is
enough to say fifteen times that I am a heretic; and having
been pronounced such, I deserve no credit.” In short, you
make no question of my apostasy, but assume it as a settled
point, on which you may build with all confidence. You are
serious then, father, it would seem, in deeming me a heretic.
I shall be equally serious in replying to the charge.

You are well aware, sir, that heresy is a charge of so
grave a character, that it is an act of high presumption to
advance, without being prepared to substantiate it. I now
demand your proofs. When was I seen at Charenton?
When did I fail in my presence at mass, or in my Christian
duty to my parish church? What act of union with heretics,
or of schism with the Church, can you lay to my charge?
What council have I contradicted? What papal constitution
have I violated? You <em>must</em> answer, father, else——You
know what I mean.[319] And what <em>do</em> you answer? I
beseech all to observe it: First of all, you assume “that the
author of the letters is a Port-Royalist;” then you tell us
“that Port-Royal is declared to be heretical;” and, therefore,
you conclude, “the author of the letters must be a heretic.”
It is not on me, then, father, that the weight of this
indictment falls, but on Port-Royal; and I am only involved
in the crime because you suppose me to belong to that establishment;
so that it will be no difficult matter for me to exculpate
myself from the charge. I have no more to say than
that I am not a member of that community; and to refer
you to my letters, in which I have declared that “I am a
private individual;” and again in so many words, that “I am
not of Port-Royal,” as I said in my sixteenth letter, which
preceded your publication.

.pm fns 319
A threat, evidently, of administering to him the <lang=la><i>Mentiris impudentissime</i></lang>
of the Capuchin, mentioned at #p. 310:Page_310#.
.pm fne

You must fall on some other way, then, to prove me a
.bn 343.png
.pn +1
heretic, otherwise the whole world will be convinced that it
is beyond your power to make good your accusation. Prove
from my writings that I do not receive the constitution.[320]
My letters are not very voluminous—there are but sixteen of
them—and I defy you or anybody else to detect in them the
slightest foundation for such a charge. I shall, however,
with your permission, produce something out of them to
prove the reverse. When, for example, I say in the fourteenth
that, “by killing our brethren in mortal sin, according
to your maxims, we are damning those for whom Jesus
Christ died,” do I not plainly acknowledge that Jesus Christ
died for those who may be damned, and, consequently, declare
it to be false “that he died only for the predestinated,”
which is the error condemned in the fifth proposition? Certain
it is, father, that I have not said a word in behalf of
these impious propositions, which I detest with all my heart.[321]
And even though Port-Royal should hold them, I protest
against your drawing any conclusion from this against me,
as, thank God, I have no sort of connection with any community
except the Catholic, Apostolic and Roman Church,
in the bosom of which I desire to live and die, in communion
with the pope, the head of the Church, and beyond the pale
of which I am persuaded there is no salvation.

.pm fns 320
<i>The constitution</i>—that is, the bull of Pope Alexander VII., issued
in October 1656, in which he not only condemned the Five Propositions,
but, in compliance with the solicitations of the Jesuits, added an
express clause, to the effect that these had been faithfully extracted from
Jansenius, and were heretical in the sense in which he (Jansenius)
employed them. This was a more stringent constitution than the first;
but the Jansenists were ready to meet him on this point; they replied
that a declaration of this nature overstepped the limits of the papal authority,
and that the pope’s infallibility did not extend to a judgment
of <em>facts</em>.
.pm fne

.pm fns 321
<i>The Five Propositions.</i>—A brief view of these celebrated Propositions
may be here given, as necessary to the understanding of the text.
They were as follows:—I. That some commandments of God are impracticable
even to the righteous, who desire to keep them, according
to their present strength. II. That grace is irresistible. III. That
moral freedom consists, not in exemption from necessity, but from constraint.
IV. That to assert that the will may resist or obey the motions
of converting grace as it pleased, was a heresy of the semi-Pelagians.
V. That to assert that Jesus Christ died for all men, without exception,
is an error of the semi-Pelagians. For a fuller explication of the controversy,
the reader must be referred to the Introduction.
.pm fne
.bn 344.png
.pn +1

How are you to get at a person who talks in this way, father?
On what quarter will you assail me, since neither my
words nor my writings afford the slightest handle to your
accusations, and the obscurity in which my person is enveloped
forms my protection against your threatenings? You
feel yourselves smitten by an invisible hand—a hand, however,
which makes your delinquencies visible to all; and in
vain do you try to strike at me in the dark, through the sides
of those with whom you suppose me to be associated. I
fear you not, either on my own account or on that of any
other, being bound by no tie either to a community or to any
individual whatsoever.[322] All the influence which your Society
possesses can be of no avail in my case. From this world
I have nothing to hope, nothing to dread, nothing to desire.
Through the goodness of God, I have no need of any man’s
money or any man’s patronage. Thus, father, I elude all
your attempts to catch hold of me. You may touch Port-Royal
if you choose, but you shall not touch me. You may
turn people out of the Sorbonne, but that will not turn me
out of my domicile. You may hatch plots against priests
and doctors, but not against me, for I am neither the one
nor the other. And thus, father, you never perhaps had to
do, in the whole course of your experience, with a person so
completely beyond your reach, and therefore so admirably
qualified for dealing with your errors—one perfectly free—one
without engagement, entanglement, relationship, or business
of any kind—one, too, who is pretty well versed in
your maxims, and determined, as God shall give him light,
to discuss them, without permitting any earthly consideration
to arrest or slacken his endeavors.

.pm fns 322
Pascal might say this with truth, for his only relatives being nuns,
the tie of earthly relationship was considered by him as no longer existing;
and beyond personal friendship, he had really no connection
with Port-Royal. There is as little truth as force, therefore, in the taunt
of a late advocate of the Jesuits, who says, in reference to this passage,
“Pascal was intimately connected with Port-Royal, he was even numbered
among its recluses; and yet, in the act of unmasking the presumed
duplicity of the Jesuits, the sublime writer did not scruple to imitate
it.” (Hist. de la Comp. de Jésus, par J. Cretineau-Joly, tom. iv.
p. 54. Paris, 1845.)
.pm fne
.bn 345.png
.pn +1

Since, then, you can do nothing against me, what good
purpose can it serve to publish so many calumnies, as you
and your brethren are doing, against a class of persons who
are in no way implicated in our disputes? You shall not escape
under these subterfuges: you shall be made to feel the
force of the truth in spite of them. How does the case
stand? I tell you that you are ruining Christian morality
by divorcing it from the love of God, and dispensing with
its obligation; and you talk about “the death of Father Mester”—a
person whom I never saw in my life. I tell you
that your authors permit a man to kill another for the sake
of an apple, when it would be dishonorable to lose it; and
you reply by informing me that somebody “has broken into
the poor’s box at St. Merri!” Again, what can you possibly
mean by mixing me up perpetually with the book “On the
Holy Virginity,” written by some father of the Oratory, whom
I never saw, any more than his book?[323] It is rather extraordinary,
father, that you should thus regard all that are opposed
to you as if they were one person. Your hatred
would grasp them all at once, and would hold them as a
body of reprobates, every one of whom is responsible for all
the rest.

.pm fns 323
“This book of the <i>Holy Virginity</i> was a translation from St. Augustine,
made by Father Seguenot, priest of the Oratory. So far, all
was right; but the priest had added to the original text some odd and
peculiar remarks of his own, which merited censure. As the publication
came from the Oratory, a community always attached to the doctrine
of St. Augustine, an attempt was made to throw the blame on
those called Jansenists.” (Note by Nicole, iv. 332.)
.pm fne

There is a vast difference between Jesuits and all their opponents.
There can be no doubt that you compose one
body, united under one head; and your regulations, as I have
shown, prohibit you from printing anything without the approbation
of your superiors, who are responsible for all the
errors of individual writers, and who “cannot excuse themselves
by saying that they did not observe the errors in any
publication, for they ought to have observed them.” So say
your ordinances, and so say the letters of your generals,
.bn 346.png
.pn +1
Aquaviva, Vitelleschi, &c. We have good reason, therefore,
for charging upon you the errors of your associates, when we
find they are sanctioned by your superiors and the divines of
your Society. With me, however, father, the case stands
otherwise. I have not subscribed the book of the Holy Virginity.
All the alms-boxes in Paris may be broken into, and
yet I am not the less a good Catholic for all that. In short,
I beg to inform you, in the plainest terms, that nobody is responsible
for my letters but myself, and that I am responsible
for nothing but my letters.

Here, father, I might fairly enough have brought our dispute
to an issue, without saying a word about those other
persons whom you stigmatize as heretics, in order to comprehend
me under that condemnation. But as I have been the
occasion of their ill treatment, I consider myself bound in
some sort to improve the occasion, and I shall take advantage
of it in three particulars. One advantage, not inconsiderable
in its way, is that it will enable me to vindicate the innocence
of so many calumniated individuals. Another, not inappropriate
to my subject, will be to disclose, at the same time,
the artifices of your policy in this accusation. But the advantage
which I prize most of all this, that it affords me an
opportunity of apprizing the world of the falsehood of that
scandalous report which you have been so busily disseminating,
namely, “that the Church is divided by a new heresy.”
And as you are deceiving multitudes into the belief that the
points on which you are raising such a storm are essential to
the faith, I consider it of the last importance to quash these
unfounded impressions, and distinctly to explain here what
these points are, so as to show that, in point of fact, there
are no heretics in the Church.

I presume, then, that were the question to be asked,
Wherein consists the heresy of those called Jansenists? the
immediate reply would be, “These people hold that the commandments
of God are impracticable to men—that grace is
irresistible—that we have not free will to do either good or
evil—that Jesus Christ did not die for all men, but only for
.bn 347.png
.pn +1
the elect; in short, they maintain the five propositions condemned
by the pope.” Do you not give it out to all that
this is the ground on which you persecute your opponents?
Have you not said as much in your books, in your conversations,
in your catechisms? A specimen of this you gave at
the late Christmas festival at St. Louis. One of your little
shepherdesses was questioned thus:—

“For whom did Jesus Christ come into the world, my
dear?”

“For all men, father.”

“Indeed, my child; so you are not one of those new heretics
who say that he came only for the elect?”

Thus children are led to believe you, and many others beside
children; for you entertain people with the same stuff
in your sermons, as Father Crasset did at Orleans, before he
was laid under an interdict. And I frankly own that, at one
time, I believed you myself. You had given me precisely
the same idea of these good people; so that when you
pressed them on these propositions, I narrowly watched their
answer, determined never to see them more, if they did not
renounce them as palpable impieties.

This, however, they have done in the most unequivocal
way. M. de Sainte-Beuve,[324] king’s professor in the Sorbonne,
censured these propositions in his published writings long before
the pope; and other Augustinian doctors, in various
publications, and, among others, in a work “On Victorious
Grace,”[325] reject the same articles as both heretical and strange
doctrines. In the preface to that work they say that these
propositions are “heretical and Lutheran, forged and fabricated
at pleasure, and are neither to be found in Jansenius, nor
.bn 348.png
.pn +1
in his defenders.” They complain of being charged with such
sentiments, and address you in the words of St. Prosper, the
first disciple of St. Augustine their master, to whom the
semi-Pelagians of France had ascribed similar opinions, with
the view of bringing him into disgrace: “There are persons
who denounce us, so blinded by passion that they have
adopted means for doing so which ruin their own reputation.
They have, for this purpose, fabricated propositions of the
most impious and blasphemous character, which they industriously
circulate, to make people believe that we maintain
them in the wicked sense which they are pleased to attach to
them. But our reply will show at once our innocence, and the
malignity of these persons who have ascribed to us a set of impious
tenets, of which they are themselves the sole inventors.”

.pm fns 324
“M. Jacques de Sainte-Beuve, one of the ablest divines of his age,
preferred to relinquish his chair in the Sorbonne rather than concur in
the censure of M. Arnauld, whose orthodoxy he regarded as beyond
suspicion. He died in 1677.” (Note by Nicole.)
.pm fne

.pm fns 325
This work was entitled “On the Victorious Grace of Jesus Christ;
or, Molina and his followers convicted of the error of the Pelagians and
Semi-Pelagians. By the Sieur de Bonlieu. Paris, 1651.” The real
author was the celebrated M. de la Lane, well known in that controversy.
(Note by Nicole.)
.pm fne

Truly, father, when I found that they had spoken in this
way before the appearance of the papal constitution—when
I saw that they afterwards received that decree with all possible
respect, that they offered to subscribe it, and that M.
Arnauld had declared all this in his second letter, in stronger
terms than I can report him, I should have considered it a sin
to doubt their soundness in the faith. And, in fact, those
who were formerly disposed to refuse absolution to M. Arnauld’s
friends, have since declared, that after his explicit disclaimer
of the errors imputed to him, there was no reason
left for cutting off either him or them from the communion
of the Church. Your associates, however, have acted very
differently; and it was this that made me begin to suspect
that you were actuated by prejudice.

You threatened first to compel them to sign that constitution,
so long as you thought they would resist it; but no
sooner did you see them quite ready of their own accord to
submit to it, than we heard no more about this. Still, however,
though one might suppose this ought to have satisfied
you, you persisted in calling them heretics, “because,” said
you, “their heart belies their hand; they are Catholics outwardly,
but inwardly they are heretics.”[326]

.pm fns 326
Réponse a quelques demandes, pp. 27, 47.
.pm fne
.bn 349.png
.pn +1

This, father, struck me as very strange reasoning; for
where is the person of whom as much may not be said at
any time? And what endless trouble and confusion would
ensue, were it allowed to go on! “If,” says Pope St. Gregory,
“we refuse to believe a confession of faith made in
conformity to the sentiments of the Church, we cast a doubt
over the faith of all Catholics whatsoever.” I am afraid,
father, to use the words of the same pontiff, when speaking
of a similar dispute in his time, “that your object is to make
these persons heretics in spite of themselves; because to
refuse to credit those who testify by their confession that
they are in the true faith, is not to purge heresy, but to
create it—<lang=la><i>hoc non est hæresim purgare, sed facere</i></lang>”. But
what confirmed me in my persuasion that there was indeed
no heretic in the Church, was finding that our so-called heretics
had vindicated themselves so successfully, that you
were unable to accuse them of a single error in the faith, and
that you were reduced to the necessity of assailing them on
questions of <em>fact</em> only, touching Jansenius, which could not
possibly be construed into heresy. You insist, it now appears,
on their being compelled to acknowledge “that these
propositions are contained in Jansenius, word for word, every
one of them, in so many terms,” or, as you express it,
<lang=la><i>Singulares, individuæ, totidem verbis apud Jansenium contentæ</i></lang>.

Thenceforth your dispute became, in my eyes, perfectly
indifferent. So long as I believed that you were debating
the truth or falsehood of the propositions, I was all attention,
for that quarrel touched the faith; but when I discovered
that the bone of contention was whether they were to be
found, word for word, in Jansenius or not, as religion ceased
to be interested in the controversy, I ceased to be interested
in it also. Not but that there was some presumption that
you were speaking the truth; because to say that such
and such expressions are to be found, word for word, in an
author, is a matter in which there can be no mistake. I do
not wonder, therefore, that so many people, both in France
.bn 350.png
.pn +1
and at Rome, should have been led to believe, on the authority
of a phrase so little liable to suspicion, that Jansenius has
actually taught these obnoxious tenets. And for the same
reason, I was not a little surprised to learn that this same
point of fact, which you had propounded as so certain and
so important, was false; and that after being challenged to
quote the pages of Jansenius, in which you had found these
propositions “word for word,” you have not been able to
point them out to this day.

I am the more particular in giving this statement, because,
in my opinion, it discovers, in a very striking light, the spirit
of your Society in the whole of this affair; and because some
people will be astonished to find that, notwithstanding all
the facts above mentioned, you have not ceased to publish
that they are heretics still. But you have only altered the
heresy to suit the time; for no sooner had they freed themselves
from one charge than your fathers, determined that
they should never want an accusation, substituted another in
its place. Thus, in 1653, their heresy lay in the <em>quality</em> of
the propositions; then came the <em>word for word</em> heresy;
after that, we had the <em>heart</em> heresy. And now we hear
nothing of any of these, and they must be heretics, forsooth,
unless they sign a declaration to the effect, “<em>that the sense
of the doctrine of Jansenius is contained in the sense of the
five propositions</em>.”

Such is your present dispute. It is not enough for you
that they condemn the five propositions, and everything in
Jansenius that bears any resemblance to them, or is contrary
to St. Augustine; for all that they have done already.
The point at issue is not, for example, if Jesus Christ died
for the elect only—they condemn that as much as you do;
but, is Jansenius of that opinion, or not? And here I declare,
more strongly than ever, that your quarrel affects me
as little as it affects the Church. For although I am no
doctor, any more than you, father, I can easily see, nevertheless,
that it has no connection with the faith. The only
question is, to ascertain what is the sense of Jansenius. Did
.bn 351.png
.pn +1
they believe that his doctrine corresponded to the proper
and literal sense of these propositions, they would condemn
it; and they refuse to do so, because they are convinced it is
quite the reverse; so that although they should misunderstand
it, still they would not be heretics, seeing they understand
it only in a Catholic sense.

To illustrate this by an example, I may refer to the conflicting
sentiments of St. Basil and St. Athanasius, regarding
the writings of St. Denis of Alexandria, which St. Basil,
conceiving that he found in them the sense of Arius against
the equality of the Father and the Son, condemned as heretical,
but which St. Athanasius, on the other hand, judging
them to contain the genuine sense of the Church, maintained
to be perfectly orthodox. Think you, then, father, that St.
Basil, who held these writings to be Arian, had a right to
brand St. Athanasius as a heretic, because he defended
them? And what ground would he have had for so doing,
seeing that it was not Arianism that his brother defended,
but the true faith which he considered these writings to contain?
Had these two saints agreed about the true sense of
these writings, and had both recognized this heresy in them,
unquestionably St. Athanasius could not have approved of
them, without being guilty of heresy; but as they were at
variance respecting the sense of the passages, St. Athanasius
was orthodox in vindicating them, even though he may have
understood them wrong; because in that case it would have
been merely an error in a matter of fact, and because what
he defended was really the Catholic faith, which he supposed
to be contained in these writings.

I apply this to you, father. Suppose you were agreed
upon the sense of Jansenius, and your adversaries were ready
to admit with you that he held, for example, <em>that grace cannot
be resisted</em>; those who refused to condemn him would be
heretical. But as your dispute turns upon the meaning of
that author, and they believe that, according to his doctrine,
<em>grace may be resisted</em>, whatever heresy you may be pleased
to attribute to him, you have no ground to brand them as
.bn 352.png
.pn +1
heretics, seeing they condemn the sense which you put on
Jansenius, and you dare not condemn the sense which they
put on him. If, therefore, you mean to convict them, show
that the sense which they ascribe to Jansenius is heretical;
for then they will be heretical themselves. But how could
you accomplish this, since it is certain, according to your
own showing, that the meaning which they give to his language
has never been condemned?

To elucidate the point still further, I shall assume as a
principle, what you yourselves acknowledge—<em>that the doctrine
of efficacious grace has never been condemned, and that
the pope has not touched it by his constitution</em>. And, in fact,
when he proposed to pass judgment on the five propositions,
the question of efficacious grace was protected against all
censure. This is perfectly evident from the judgments of
the consulters,[327] to whom the pope committed them for examination.
These judgments I have in my possession, in common
with many other persons in Paris, and, among the rest,
the Bishop of Montpelier,[328] who brought them from Rome.
It appears from this document, that they were divided in
their sentiments; that the chief persons among them, such as
the Master of the Sacred Palace, the Commissary of the
Holy Office, the General of the Augustinians, and others,
conceiving that these propositions might be understood in the
sense of <em>efficacious grace</em>, were of opinion that they ought not
to be censured; whereas the rest, while they agreed that the
propositions would not have merited condemnation, had they
borne that sense, judged that they ought to be censured, because,
as they contended, this was very far from being their
proper and natural sense. The pope, accordingly, condemned
.bn 353.png
.pn +1
them; and all parties have acquiesced in his judgment.

.pm fns 327
These judgments, or <cite>Vota Consultorum</cite>, as they were called, have
been often printed, and particularly at the end of the <cite>Journal de M. de
St. Amour</cite>—a book essentially necessary to the right understanding of
all the intrigues employed in the condemnation of Jansenius. (Note
by Nicole.)
.pm fne

.pm fns 328
This was <i>Francis du Bosquet</i>, who, from being Bishop of Lodeve,
was made Bishop of Montpelier in 1655, and died in 1676. He was one
of the most learned bishops of his time in ecclesiastical matters. (Note
by Nicole.)
.pm fne

It is certain, then, father, that efficacious grace has not
been condemned. Indeed, it is so powerfully supported by
St. Augustine, by St. Thomas, and all his school, by a great
many popes and councils, and by all tradition, that to tax it
with heresy would be an act of impiety. Now, all those
whom you condemn as heretics declare that they find nothing
in Jansenius, but this doctrine of efficacious grace. And this
was the only point which they maintained at Rome. You
have acknowledged this yourself, when you declare that,
“when pleading before the pope, they did not say a single
word about the propositions, but occupied the whole time in
talking about efficacious grace.”[329] So that whether they be
right or wrong in this supposition, it is undeniable, at least,
that what they suppose to be the sense is not heretical sense;
and that, consequently, they are no heretics: for, to state the
matter in two words, either Jansenius has merely taught the
doctrine of efficacious grace, and in this case he has no
errors; or he has taught some other thing, and in this case
he has no defenders. The whole question turns on ascertaining
whether Jansenius has actually maintained something
different from efficacious grace; and should it be found that
he has, you will have the honor of having better understood
him, but they will not have the misfortune of having erred
from the faith.

.pm fns 329
Cavill, p. 35.
.pm fne

It is matter of thankfulness to God, then, father, that there
is in reality no heresy in the Church. The question relates
entirely to a point of fact, of which no heresy can be made;
for the Church, with divine authority, decides the points of
<em>faith</em>, and cuts off from her body all who refuse to receive
them. But she does not act in the same manner in regard
to matters of <em>fact</em>. And the reason is, that our salvation is
attached to the faith which has been revealed to us, and
which is preserved in the Church by tradition, but that it
has no dependence on facts which have not been revealed
.bn 354.png
.pn +1
by God. Thus we are bound to believe that the commandments
of God are not impracticable; but we are under no
obligation to know what Jansenius has said upon that subject.
In the determination of points of faith God guides the
Church by the aid of his unerring Spirit; whereas in matters
of fact, he leaves her to the direction of reason and the
senses, which are the natural judges of such matters. None
but God was able to instruct the Church in the faith; but to
learn whether this or that proposition is contained in Jansenius,
all we require to do is to read his book. And from hence
it follows, that while it is heresy to resist the decisions of the
faith, because this amounts to an opposing of our own spirit
to the Spirit of God, it is no heresy, though it may be an act
of presumption, to disbelieve certain particular facts, because
this is no more than opposing reason—it may be enlightened
reason—to an authority which is great indeed, but in this matter
not infallible.

What I have now advanced is admitted by all theologians,
as appears from the following axiom of Cardinal Bellarmine,
a member of your Society: “General and lawful councils
are incapable of error in defining the dogmas of faith; but
they may err in questions of fact.” In another place he
says: “The pope, as pope, and even as the head of a universal
council, may err in particular controversies of fact,
which depend principally on the information and testimony
of men.” Cardinal Baronius speaks in the same manner:
“Implicit submission is due to the decisions of councils in
points of faith; but, in so far as persons and their writings
are concerned, the censures which have been pronounced
against them have not been so rigorously observed, because
there is none who may not chance to be deceived in such
matters.” I may add that, to prove this point, the Archbishop
of Toulouse[330] has deduced the following rule from the
letters of two great popes—St. Leon and Pelagius II.: “That
.bn 355.png
.pn +1
the proper object of councils is the faith; and whatsoever is
determined by them, independently of the faith, may be reviewed
and examined anew: whereas nothing ought to be re-examined
that has been decided in a matter of faith; because,
as Tertullian observes, the rule of faith alone is immovable
and irrevocable.”

.pm fns 330
M. de Marca, an illustrious prelate, who was Archbishop of Toulouse,
before he was nominated to the see of Paris, of which he was
only prevented by death from taking possession. (Nicole.)
.pm fne

Hence it has been seen that, while general and lawful
councils have never contradicted one another in points of
faith, because, as M. de Toulouse has said, “it is not allowable
to examine <lang=la><i>de novo</i></lang> decisions in matters of faith;” several
instances have occurred in which these same councils have
disagreed in points of fact, where the discussion turned upon
the sense of an author; because, as the same prelate observes,
quoting the popes as his authorities, “everything determined
in councils, not referring to the faith, may be reviewed
and examined <lang=la><i>de novo</i></lang>.” An example of this contrariety
was furnished by the fourth and fifth councils, which differed
in their interpretation of the same authors. The same thing
happened in the case of two popes, about a proposition maintained
by certain monks of Scythia. Pope Hormisdas, understanding
it in a bad sense, had condemned it; but Pope John
II., his successor, upon re-examining the doctrine, understood
it in a good sense, approved it, and pronounced it to be orthodox.
Would you say that for this reason one of these
popes was a heretic? And must you not, consequently, acknowledge
that, provided a person condemn the heretical
sense which a pope may have ascribed to a book, he is no
heretic because he declines condemning that book, while he
understands it in a sense which it is certain the pope has not
condemned? If this cannot be admitted, one of these popes
must have fallen into error.

I have been anxious to familiarize you with these discrepancies
among Catholics regarding questions of fact, which
involve the understanding of the sense of a writer, showing
you father against father, pope against pope, and council
against council, to lead you from these to other examples of
opposition, similar in their nature, but somewhat more disproportioned
.bn 356.png
.pn +1
in respect of the parties concerned. For, in the
instances I am now to adduce, you will see councils and popes
ranged on one side, and Jesuits on the other; and yet you
have never charged your brethren, for this opposition, even
with presumption, much less with heresy.

You are well aware, father, that the writings of Origen
were condemned by a great many popes and councils, and
particularly by the fifth general council, as chargeable with
certain heresies, and, among others, that of <em>the reconciliation
of the devils at the day of judgment</em>. Do you suppose that,
after this, it became absolutely imperative, as a test of Catholicism,
to confess that Origen actually maintained these
errors, and that it is not enough to condemn them, without
attributing them to him? If this were true, what would
become of your worthy Father Halloix, who has asserted the
purity of Origen’s faith, as well as many other Catholics, who
have attempted the same thing, such as Pico Mirandola, and
Genebrard, doctor of the Sorbonne? Is it not, moreover, a
certain fact, that the same fifth general council condemned
the writings of Theodoret against St. Cyril, describing them
as impious, “contrary to the true faith, and tainted with the
Nestorian heresy?”[331] And yet this has not prevented Father
Sirmond,[332] a Jesuit, from defending him, or from saying, in
his life of that father, that “his writings are entirely free from
the heresy of Nestorius.”

.pm fns 331
<i>Nestorian heresy</i>—so called from Nestorius, Bishop of Constantinople,
in the fifth century, who was accused of dividing Christ into <em>two
persons</em>; in other words, representing his human nature a distinct person
from his divine. There is some reason to think, however, that he
was quite sound in the faith, and that his real offence was his opposition
to the use of the phrase, which then came into vogue, <em>the Mother
of God</em>, as applied to the Virgin, whom he called, in preference, <em>the
Mother of Christ</em>.
.pm fne

.pm fns 332
This was James Sirmond (the uncle of Anthony, formerly mentioned),
a learned Jesuit, and confessor to Louis XIII. He was distinguished
as an ecclesiastical historian. (Tableau de la Litt. Fran.,
iv. 202.)
.pm fne

It is evident, therefore, that as the Church, in condemning
a book, assumes that the error which she condemns is contained
in that book, it is a point of faith to hold that error as
.bn 357.png
.pn +1
condemned; but it is not a point of faith to hold that the
book, in fact, contains the error which the Church supposes
it does. Enough has been said, I think, to prove this; I
shall, therefore, conclude my examples by referring to that
of Pope Honorius, the history of which is so well known.
At the commencement of the seventh century, the Church
being troubled by the heresy of the Monothelites,[333] that pope,
with the view of terminating the controversy, passed a decree
which seemed favorable to these heretics, at which many took
offence. The affair, nevertheless, passed over without making
much disturbance during his pontificate; but fifty years
after, the Church being assembled in the sixth general council,
in which Pope Agathon presided by his legates, this decree
was impeached, and, after being read and examined, was
condemned as containing the heresy of the Monothelites, and
under that character burnt, in open court, along with the
other writings of these heretics. Such was the respect paid
to this decision, and such the unanimity with which it was
received throughout the whole Church, that it was afterwards
ratified by two other general councils, and likewise by two
popes, Leon II. and Adrian II., the latter of whom lived two
hundred years after it had passed; and this universal and
harmonious agreement remained undisturbed for seven or
eight centuries. Of late years, however, some authors, and
among the rest Cardinal Bellarmine, without seeming to dread
the imputation of heresy, have stoutly maintained, against all
this array of popes and councils, that the writings of Honorius
are free from the error which had been ascribed to them;
“because,” says the cardinal, “general councils being liable
to err in questions of fact, we have the best grounds for
asserting that the sixth council was mistaken with regard to
the fact now under consideration; and that, misconceiving
the sense of the Letters of Honorius, it has placed this pope
most unjustly in the ranks of heretics.” Observe, then, I
.bn 358.png
.pn +1
pray you, father, that a man is not heretical for saying that
Pope Honorius was not a heretic; even though a great many
popes and councils, after examining his writings, should have
declared that he was so.

.pm fns 333
<i>The Monothelites</i>, who arose in the seventh century, were so called
from holding that there was but <em>one will</em> in Christ, his human will being
absorbed, as it were, in the divine.
.pm fne

I now come to the question before us, and shall allow you
to state your case as favorably as you can. What will you
then say, father, in order to stamp your opponents as heretics?
That “Pope Innocent X. has declared that the error of the
five propositions is to be found in Jansenius?” I grant you
that; what inference do you draw from it? That “it is
heretical to deny that the error of the five propositions is to
be found in Jansenius?” How so, father? have we not here
a question of fact, exactly similar to the preceding examples?
The pope has declared that the error of the five propositions
is contained in Jansenius, in the same way as his predecessors
decided that the errors of the Nestorians and the Monothelites
polluted the pages of Theodoret and Honorius. In the
latter case, your writers hesitate not to say, that while they
condemn the heresies, they do not allow that these authors
actually maintained them; and, in like manner, your opponents
now say, that they condemn the five propositions, but
cannot admit that Jansenius has taught them. Truly, the
two cases are as like as they could well be; and if there be
any disparity between them, it is easy to see how far it must
go in favor of the present question, by a comparison of many
particular circumstances, which, as they are self-evident, I do
not specify. How comes it to pass, then, that when placed
in precisely the same predicament, your friends are Catholics
and your opponents heretics? On what strange principle
of exception do you deprive the latter of a liberty which you
freely award to all the rest of the faithful? What answer
will you make to this, father? Will you say, “The pope
has confirmed his constitution by a brief.” To this I would
reply, that two general councils and two popes confirmed the
condemnation of the Letters of Honorius. But what argument
do you found upon the language of that brief, in which
all that the pope says is, that “he has condemned the doctrine
.bn 359.png
.pn +1
of Jansenius in these five propositions?” What does
that add to the constitution, or what more can you infer from
it? Nothing certainly, except that as the sixth council condemned
the doctrine of Honorius, in the belief that it was the
same with that of the Monothelites, so the pope has said
that he has condemned the doctrine of Jansenius in these five
propositions, because he was led to suppose it was the same
with that of the five propositions. And how could he do
otherwise than suppose it? Your Society published nothing
else; and you, yourself, father, who have asserted that the
said propositions were in that author “word for word,” happened
to be in Rome (for I know all your motions) at the
time when the censure was passed. Was he to distrust the
sincerity or the competence of so many grave ministers of
religion? And how could he help being convinced of the
fact, after the assurance which you had given him that the
propositions were in that author “word for word?” It is
evident, therefore, that in the event of its being found that
Jansenius has not supported these doctrines, it would be
wrong to say, as your writers have done in the cases before
mentioned, that the pope has deceived himself in this point of
fact, which it is painful and offensive to publish at any time;
the proper phrase is, that you have deceived the pope, which,
as you are now pretty well known, will create no scandal.

Determined, however, to have a heresy made out, let it
cost what it may, you have attempted, by the following manœuvre,
to shift the question from the point of fact, and
make it bear upon a point of faith. “The pope,” say you,
“declares that he has condemned the doctrine of Jansenius
in these five propositions; therefore it is essential to the
faith to hold that the doctrine of Jansenius touching these
five propositions is heretical, <em>let it be what it may</em>.” Here is
a strange point of faith, that a doctrine is heretical <em>be what
it may</em>. What! if Jansenius should happen to maintain that
“<em>we are capable of resisting internal grace</em>,” and that “<em>it is
false to say that Jesus Christ died for the elect only</em>,” would
this doctrine be condemned just because it is his doctrine?
.bn 360.png
.pn +1
Will the proposition, that “<em>man has a freedom of will to do
good or evil</em>,” be true when found in the pope’s constitution,
and false when discovered in Jansenius? By what fatality
must he be reduced to such a predicament, that truth, when
admitted into his book, becomes heresy? You must confess,
then, that he is only heretical on the supposition that he is
friendly to the errors condemned, seeing that the constitution
of the pope is the rule which we must apply to Jansenius, to
judge if his character answer the description there given of
him; and, accordingly, the question, <em>Is his doctrine heretical?</em>
must be resolved by another question of fact, <em>Does it correspond
to the natural sense of these propositions?</em> as it must
necessarily be heretical if it does correspond to that sense,
and must necessarily be orthodox if it be of an opposite
character. For, in one word, since, according to the pope
and the bishops, “the propositions are condemned <em>in their
proper and natural sense</em>,” they cannot possibly be condemned
in the sense of Jansenius, except on the understanding that
the sense of Jansenius is the same with the proper and natural
sense of these propositions; and this I maintain to be
purely a question of fact.

The question, then, still rests upon the point of fact, and
cannot possibly be tortured into one affecting the faith. But
though incapable of twisting it into a matter of heresy, you
have it in your power to make it a pretext for persecution,
and might, perhaps, succeed in this, were there not good
reason to hope that nobody will be found so blindly devoted
to your interests as to countenance such a disgraceful proceeding,
or inclined to compel people, as you wish to do, to
sign a declaration <em>that they condemn these propositions in the
sense of Jansenius</em>, without explaining what the sense of Jansenius
is. Few people are disposed to sign a blank confession
of faith. Now this would really be to sign one of that
description, leaving you to fill up the blank afterwards with
whatsoever you pleased, as you would be at liberty to interpret
according to your own taste the unexplained sense of
Jansenius. Let it be explained, then, beforehand, otherwise
.bn 361.png
.pn +1
we shall have, I fear, another version of your proximate power,
without any sense at all—<lang=la><i>abstrahendo ab omni sensu</i></lang>.[334] This
mode of proceeding, you must be aware, does not take with
the world. Men in general detest all ambiguity, especially
in the matter of religion, where it is highly reasonable that
one should know at least what one is asked to condemn.
And how is it possible for doctors, who are persuaded that
Jansenius can bear no other sense than that of efficacious
grace, to consent to declare that they condemn his doctrine
without explaining it, since, with their present convictions,
which no means are used to alter, this would be neither more
nor less than to condemn efficacious grace, which cannot be
condemned without sin? Would it not, therefore, be a piece
of monstrous tyranny to place them in such an unhappy
dilemma, that they must either bring guilt upon their souls
in the sight of God, by signing that condemnation against
their consciences, or be denounced as heretics for refusing to
sign it?[335]

.pm fns 334
See Letter i., #p. 74:Page_74#.
.pm fne

.pm fns 335
The persecution here supposed was soon lamentably realized, and
exactly in the way which our author seemed to think impossible.
.pm fne

But there is a mystery under all this. You Jesuits cannot
move a step without a stratagem. It remains for me to
explain why you do not explain the sense of Jansenius. The
sole purpose of my writing is to discover your designs, and,
by discovering, to frustrate them. I must, therefore, inform
those who are not already aware of the fact, that your great
concern in this dispute being to uphold the <em>sufficient grace</em> of
your Molina, you could not effect this without destroying the
<em>efficacious grace</em> which stands directly opposed to it. Perceiving,
however, that the latter was now sanctioned at
Rome, and by all the learned in the Church, and unable to
combat the doctrine on its own merits, you resolved to attack
it in a clandestine way, under the name of the doctrine of
Jansenius. You were resolved, accordingly, to get Jansenius
condemned without explanation; and, to gain your purpose,
gave out that his doctrine was not that of efficacious grace,
.bn 362.png
.pn +1
so that every one might think he was at liberty to condemn
the one without denying the other. Hence your efforts, in
the present day, to impress this idea upon the minds of such
as have no acquaintance with that author; an object which
you yourself, father, have attempted, by means of the following
ingenious syllogism: “The pope has condemned the
doctrine of Jansenius; but the pope has not condemned efficacious
grace: therefore, the doctrine of efficacious grace
must be different from that of Jansenius.”[336] If this mode of
reasoning were conclusive, it might be demonstrated in the
same way that Honorius and all his defenders are heretics
of the same kind. “The sixth council has condemned the
doctrine of Honorius; but the council has not condemned the
doctrine of the Church: therefore the doctrine of Honorius
is different from that of the Church; and therefore all who
defend him are heretics.” It is obvious that no conclusion
can be drawn from this; for the pope has done no more than
condemned the doctrine of the five propositions, which was
represented to him as the doctrine of Jansenius.

.pm fns 336
Cavill, p. 23.
.pm fne

But it matters not; you have no intention to make use
of this logic for any length of time. Poor as it is, it will last
sufficiently long to serve your present turn. All that you
wish to effect by it, in the mean time, is to induce those who
are unwilling to condemn efficacious grace to condemn Jansenius
with the less scruple. When this object has been
accomplished, your argument will soon be forgotten, and
their signatures remaining as an eternal testimony in condemnation
of Jansenius, will furnish you with an occasion to make
a direct attack upon efficacious grace, by another mode of
reasoning much more solid than the former, which shall be
forthcoming in proper time. “The doctrine of Jansenius,”
you will argue, “has been condemned by the universal subscriptions
of the Church. Now this doctrine is manifestly
that of efficacious grace” (and it will be easy for you to prove
that); “therefore the doctrine of efficacious grace is condemned
even by the confession of his defenders.”
.bn 363.png
.pn +1

Behold your reason for proposing to sign the condemnation
of a doctrine without giving an explanation of it! Behold
the advantage you expect to gain from subscriptions thus
procured! Should your opponents, however, refuse to subscribe,
you have another trap laid for them. Having dexterously
combined the question of faith with that of fact, and
not allowing them to separate between them, nor to sign the
one without the other, the consequence will be, that, because
they could not subscribe the two together, you will publish
it in all directions that they have refused the two together.
And thus though, in point of fact, they simply decline acknowledging
that Jansenius has maintained the propositions
which they condemn, which cannot be called heresy, you
will boldly assert that they have refused to condemn the
propositions themselves, and that it is this that constitutes
their heresy.

Such is the fruit which you expect to reap from their refusal,
and which will be no less useful to you than what you
might have gained from their consent. So that, in the event
of these signatures being exacted, they will fall into your
snares, whether they sign or not, and in both cases you will
gain your point; such is your dexterity in uniformly putting
matters into a train for your own advantage, whatever bias
they may happen to take in their course!

How well I know you, father! and how grieved am I to
see that God has abandoned you so far as to allow you such
happy success in such an unhappy course! Your good fortune
deserves commiseration, and can excite envy only in the
breasts of those who know not what truly good fortune is.
It is an act of charity to thwart the success you aim at in the
whole of this proceeding, seeing that you can only reach it
by the aid of falsehood, and by procuring credit to one of
two lies—either that the Church has condemned efficacious
grace, or that those who defend that doctrine maintain the
five condemned errors.

The world must, therefore, be apprized of two facts: First,
That, by your own confession, efficacious grace has not been
.bn 364.png
.pn +1
condemned; and secondly, That nobody supports these errors.
So that it may be known that those who may refuse
to sign what you are so anxious to exact from them, refuse
merely in consideration of the question of <em>fact</em>; and that,
being quite ready to subscribe that of <em>faith</em>, they cannot be
deemed heretical on that account; because, to repeat it once
more, though it be matter of faith to believe these propositions
to be heretical, it will never be matter of faith to hold
that they are to be found in the pages of Jansenius. They
are innocent of all error; that is enough. It may be that
they interpret Jansenius too favorably; but it may be also
that you do not interpret him favorably enough. I do not
enter upon this question. All that I know is, that, according
to your maxims, you believe that you may, without sin, publish
him to be a heretic contrary to your own knowledge;
whereas, according to their maxims, they cannot, without
sin, declare him to be a Catholic, unless they are persuaded
that he is one. They are, therefore, more honest than you,
father; they have examined Jansenius more faithfully than
you; they are no less intelligent than you; they are, therefore,
no less credible witnesses than you. But come what
may of this point of fact, they are certainly Catholics; for, in
order to be so, it is not necessary to declare that another
man is not a Catholic; it is enough, in all conscience, if a
person, without charging error upon anybody else, succeed
in discharging himself.

.tb

Reverend father,—If you have found any difficulty in deciphering
this letter, which is certainly not printed in the
best possible type, blame nobody but yourself. Privileges
are not so easily granted to me as they are to you. You can
procure them even for the purpose of combating miracles; I
cannot have them even to defend myself. The printing-houses
are perpetually haunted. In such circumstances, you
yourself would not advise me to write you any more letters
.bn 365.png
.pn +1
for it is really a sad annoyance to be obliged to have recourse
to an Osnabruck impression.[337]

.pm fns 337
This postscript, which is wanting in the ordinary editions, appeared
in the first edition at the close of this letter. From this it appears that,
in consequence of the extreme desire of the Jesuits to discover the author,
and their increasing resentment against him, he was compelled to
send this letter to Osnabruck, an obscure place in Germany, where it
was printed in a very small and indistinct character. The <em>privileges</em>
referred to were official licenses to print books, which, at this time, when
the Jesuits were in power, it was difficult for their opponents to obtain.
Annat had published against the miracles of Port-Royal. Pascal was
not permitted to publish in self-defence. At the same period, no Protestant
books could be printed at Paris; they were generally sent to
Geneva or the Low Countries for this purpose, or published furtively
under fictitious names.
.pm fne

.fm lz=t

.bn 366.png
.pn +1

.sp 4
.h2
LETTER XVIII.

.ce
TO THE REVEREND FATHER ANNAT, JESUIT.

.fs 80%
.in +3
.ti -3
SHOWING STILL MORE PLAINLY, ON THE AUTHORITY OF FATHER ANNAT
HIMSELF, THAT THERE IS REALLY NO HERESY IN THE CHURCH,
AND THAT IN QUESTIONS OF FACT WE MUST BE GUIDED BY OUR
SENSES, AND NOT BY AUTHORITY EVEN OF THE POPES.
.in
.fs

.sp 2

.rj
<i>March 24, 1657.</i>

<sc>Reverend Father</sc>,—Long have you labored to discover
some error in the creed or conduct of your opponents; but I
rather think you will have to confess, in the end, that it is a
more difficult task than you imagined to make heretics of
people who are not only no heretics, but who hate nothing
in the world so much as heresy. In my last letter I succeeded
in showing that you accuse them of one heresy after
another, without being able to stand by one of the charges
for any length of time; so that all that remained for you
was to fix on their refusal to condemn “the sense of Jansenius,”
which you insist on their doing without explanation.
You must have been sadly in want of heresies to brand them
with, when you were reduced to this. For, who ever heard
of a heresy which nobody could explain? The answer was
ready, therefore, that if Jansenius has no errors, it is wrong
to condemn him; and if he has, you were bound to point
them out, that we might know at least what we were condemning.
This, however, you have never yet been pleased
to do; but you have attempted to fortify your position by
decrees,[338] which made nothing in your favor, as they gave no
sort of explanation of the sense of Jansenius, said to have
.bn 367.png
.pn +1
been condemned in the five propositions. This was not the
way to terminate the dispute. Had you mutually agreed as
to the genuine sense of Jansenius, and had the only difference
between you been as to whether that sense was heretical or
not, in that case the decisions which might pronounce it to
be heretical, would have touched the real question in dispute.
But the great dispute being about the sense of Jansenius, the
one party saying that they could see nothing in it inconsistent
with the sense of St. Augustine and St. Thomas, and the
other party asserting that they saw in it an heretical sense
which they would not express. It is clear that a constitution[339]
which does not say a word about this difference of opinion,
and which only condemns in general and without explanation
the sense of Jansenius, leaves the point in dispute quite
undecided.

.pm fns 338
Decrees of the pope.
.pm fne

.pm fns 339
The papal constitution formerly referred to.
.pm fne

You have accordingly been repeatedly told, that as your
discussion turns on a matter of fact, you would never be able
to bring it to a conclusion without declaring what you understand
by the sense of Jansenius. But, as you continued obstinate
in your refusal to make this explanation, I endeavored,
as a last resource, to extort it from you, by hinting, in my
last letter, that there was some mystery under the efforts you
were making to procure the condemnation of this sense without
explaining it, and that your design was to make this indefinite
censure recoil, some day or other, upon the doctrine
of efficacious grace, by showing, as you could easily do, that
this was exactly the doctrine of Jansenius. This has reduced
you to the necessity of making a reply; for, had you pertinaciously
refused, after such an insinuation, to explain your
views of that sense, it would have been apparent, to persons
of the smallest penetration, that you condemned it in the
sense of efficacious grace—a conclusion which, considering the
veneration in which the Church holds that holy doctrine,
would have overwhelmed you with disgrace.

You have, therefore, been forced to speak out your mind;
and we find it expressed in your reply to that part of my letter
.bn 368.png
.pn +1
in which I remarked, that “if Jansenius was capable of
any other sense than that of efficacious grace, he had no defenders;
but if his writings bore no other sense, he had no
errors to defend.” You found it impossible to deny this position,
father; but you have attempted to parry it by the following
distinction: “It is not sufficient,” say you, “for the
vindication of Jansenius, to allege that he merely holds the
doctrine of efficacious grace, for that may be held in two ways—the
one heretical, according to Calvin, which consists in
maintaining that the will, when under the influence of grace,
has not the power of resisting it; the other orthodox, according
to the Thomists and the Sorbonists, which is founded on
the principles established by the councils, and which is, that
efficacious grace of itself governs the will in such a way that
it still has the power of resisting it.”

All this we grant, father; but you conclude by adding:
“Jansenius would be orthodox, if he defended efficacious
grace in the sense of the Thomists; but he is heretical, because
he opposes the Thomists, and joins issue with Calvin,
who denies the power of resisting grace.” I do not here enter
upon the question of fact, whether Jansenius really agrees
with Calvin. It is enough for my purpose that you assert
that he does, and that you now inform me that by the sense
of Jansenius you have all along understood nothing more than
the sense of Calvin. Was this all you meant, then, father?
Was it only the error of Calvin that you were so anxious to
get condemned, under the name of “the sense of Jansenius?”
Why did you not tell us this sooner? You might have saved
yourself a world of trouble; for we were all ready, without
the aid of bulls or briefs, to join with you in condemning
that error. What urgent necessity there was for such an explanation!
What a host of difficulties has it removed! We
were quite at a loss, my dear father, to know what error the
popes and bishops meant to condemn, under the name of
“the sense of Jansenius.” The whole Church was in the utmost
perplexity about it, and not a soul would relieve us by
an explanation. This, however, has now been done by you,
.bn 369.png
.pn +1
father—you whom the whole of your party regard as the
chief and prime mover of all their councils, and who are acquainted
with the whole secret of this proceeding. You,
then, have told us that the sense of Jansenius is neither more
nor less than the sense of Calvin, which has been condemned
by the council.[340] Why, this explains everything. We know
now that the error which they intended to condemn, under
these terms—<em>the sense of Jansenius</em>—is neither more nor less
than the sense of Calvin; and that, consequently, we, by joining
with them in the condemnation of Calvin’s doctrine, have
yielded all due obedience to these decrees. We are no longer
surprised at the zeal which the popes and some bishops manifested
against “the sense of Jansenius.” How, indeed, could
they be otherwise than zealous against it, believing as they
did the declarations of those who publicly affirmed that it
was identically the same with that of Calvin?

.pm fns 340
The Council of Trent is meant, when Pascal speaks of <em>the council</em>,
without any other specification.
.pm fne

I must maintain, then, father, that you have no further
reason to quarrel with your adversaries; for they detest that
doctrine as heartily as you do. I am only astonished to see
that you are ignorant of this fact, and that you have such an
imperfect acquaintance with their sentiments on this point,
which they have so repeatedly expressed in their published
works. I flatter myself that, were you more intimate with
these writings, you would deeply regret your not having made
yourself acquainted sooner, in the spirit of peace, with a doctrine
which is in every respect so holy and so Christian, but
which passion, in the absence of knowledge, now prompts you
to oppose. You would find, father, that they not only hold
that an effective resistance may be made to those feebler
graces which go under the name of <em>exciting</em> or <em>inefficacious</em>,
from their not terminating in the good with which they inspire
us; but that they are, moreover, as firm in maintaining,
in opposition to Calvin, the power which the will has to resist
even efficacious and victorious grace, as they are in contending
against Molina for the power of this grace over the
.bn 370.png
.pn +1
will, and fully as jealous for the one of these truths as they
are for the other. They know too well that man, of his own
nature, has always the power of sinning and of resisting
grace; and that, since he became corrupt, he unhappily carries
in his breast a fount of concupiscence which infinitely
augments that power; but that, notwithstanding this, when
it pleases God to visit him with his mercy, he makes the soul
do what he wills, and in the manner he wills it to be done,
while, at the same time, the infallibility of the divine operation
does not in any way destroy the natural liberty of man,
in consequence of the secret and wonderful ways by which
God operates this change. This has been most admirably
explained by St. Augustine, in such a way as to dissipate all
those imaginary inconsistencies which the opponents of efficacious
grace suppose to exist between the sovereign power of
grace over the free-will and the power which the free-will
has to resist grace. For, according to this great saint, whom
the popes and the Church have held to be a standard authority
on this subject, God transforms the heart of man, by shedding
abroad in it a heavenly sweetness, which, surmounting
the delights of the flesh, and inducing him to feel, on the one
hand, his own mortality and nothingness, and to discover, on
the other hand, the majesty and eternity of God, makes him
conceive a distaste for the pleasures of sin, which interpose
between him and incorruptible happiness. Finding his chiefest
joy in the God who charms him, his soul is drawn towards
him infallibly, but of its own accord, by a motion perfectly
free, spontaneous, love-impelled; so that it would be
its torment and punishment to be separated from him. Not
but that the person has always the power of forsaking his
God, and that he may not actually forsake him, provided he
choose to do it. But how <em>could</em> he choose such a course,
seeing that the will always inclines to that which is most
agreeable to it, and that in the case we now suppose nothing
can be more agreeable than the possession of that <em>one good</em>,
which comprises in itself all other good things. “<lang=la><i>Quod
enim</i></lang> (says St. Augustine) <lang=la><i>amplius nos delectat, secundum</i></lang>
.bn 371.png
.pn +1
<lang=la><i>operemur necesse est</i></lang>—Our actions are necessarily determined
by that which affords us the greatest pleasure.”

Such is the manner in which God regulates the free will
of man without encroaching on its freedom, and in which the
free will, which always may, but never will, resist his grace,
turns to God with a movement as voluntary as it is irresistible,
whensoever he is pleased to draw it to himself by the
sweet constraint of his efficacious inspirations.[341]

.pm fns 341
The reader may well be at a loss to see the difference between this
and the Reformed doctrine. Some explanations will be found in the
Historical Introduction.
.pm fne

These, father, are the divine principles of St. Augustine
and St. Thomas, according to which it is equally true that
<em>we have the power of resisting grace</em>, contrary to Calvin’s
opinion, and that, nevertheless, to employ the language of
Pope Clement VIII., in his paper addressed to the Congregation
<i>de Auxiliis</i>, “God forms within us the motion of our
will, and effectually disposes of our hearts, by virtue of that
empire which his supreme majesty has over the volitions of
men, as well as over the other creatures under heaven, according
to St. Augustine.”

On the same principle, it follows that we act of ourselves,
and thus, in opposition to another error of Calvin, that we
have merits which are truly and properly <em>ours</em>; and yet, as
God is the first principle of our actions, and as, in the language
of St. Paul, he “worketh in us that which is pleasing
in his sight;” “our merits are the gifts of God,” as the
Council of Trent says.

By means of this distinction we demolish the profane sentiment
of Luther, condemned by that Council, namely, that
“we co-operate in no way whatever towards our salvation,
any more than inanimate things;”[342] and, by the same mode
of reasoning, we overthrow the equally profane sentiment of
the school of Molina, who will not allow that it is by the
strength of divine grace that we are enabled to co-operate
with it in the work of our salvation, and who thereby comes
.bn 372.png
.pn +1
into hostile collision with that principle of faith established
by St. Paul, “That it is God who worketh in us both to will
and to do.”

.pm fns 342
This sentiment was falsely ascribed to Luther by the Council.
(Leydeck, De Dogm. Jan. 275.)
.pm fne

In fine, in this way we reconcile all those passages of
Scripture which seem quite inconsistent with each other,
such as the following: “Turn ye unto God”—“Turn thou
us, and we shall be turned”—“Cast away iniquity from you”—“It
is God who taketh away iniquity from his people”—“Bring
forth works meet for repentance”—“Lord, thou hast
wrought all our works in us”—“Make ye a new heart and a
new spirit”—“A new spirit will I give you, and a new heart
will I create within you,” &c.

The only way of reconciling these apparent contrarieties,
which ascribe our good actions at one time to God, and at
another time to ourselves, is to keep in view the distinction,
as stated by St. Augustine, that “our actions are ours in respect
of the free will which produces them; but that they
are also of God, in respect of his grace which enables our
free will to produce them;” and that, as the same writer
elsewhere remarks, “God enables us to do what is pleasing
in his sight, by making us will to do even what we might
have been unwilling to do.”

It thus appears, father, that your opponents are perfectly
at one with the modern Thomists, for the Thomists hold,
with them, both the power of resisting grace, and the infallibility
of the effect of grace; of which latter doctrine they
profess themselves the most strenuous advocates, if we may
judge from a common maxim of their theology, which Alvarez,[343]
one of the leading men among them, repeats so often
in his book, and expresses in the following terms (disp. 72,
n. 4): “When efficacious grace moves the free will, it infallibly
.bn 373.png
.pn +1
consents; because the effect of grace is such, that, although
the will has the power of withholding its consent, it
nevertheless consents in effect.” He corroborates this by a
quotation from his master, St. Thomas: “The will of God
cannot fail to be accomplished; and, accordingly, when it is
his pleasure that a man should consent to the influence of
grace, he consents infallibly, and even necessarily, not by an
absolute necessity, but by a necessity of infallibility.” In
effecting this, divine grace does not trench upon “the power
which man has to resist it, if he wishes to do so;” it merely
prevents him from wishing to resist it. This has been acknowledged
by your Father Petau, in the following passage
(tom. i. p. 602): “The grace of Jesus Christ insures infallible
perseverance in piety, though not by necessity; for a
person may refuse to yield his consent to grace, if he be so
inclined, as the council states; but that same grace provides
that he shall never be so inclined.”

.pm fns 343
Diego (or Didacus) Alvarez was one of the most celebrated theologians
of the order of St. Dominick; he flourished in the sixteenth and
seventeenth centuries, and died in 1635. He was brought from Spain
to Rome, to advocate there, along with Father Thomas Lemos the
cause of the grace of Jesus Christ, which the Jesuit Molina weakened,
and indeed annihilated. He shone greatly in the famous Congregation
<i>de Auxiliis</i>. (Nicole’s Note.)
.pm fne

This, father, is the uniform doctrine of St. Augustine, of
St. Prosper, of the fathers who followed them, of the councils,
of St. Thomas, and of all the Thomists in general. It
is likewise, whatever you may think of it, the doctrine of
your opponents. And let me add, it is the doctrine which
you yourself have lately sealed with your approbation. I
shall quote your own words: “The doctrine of efficacious
grace, which admits that we have a power of resisting it, is
orthodox, founded on the councils, and supported by the
Thomists and Sorbonists.” Now, tell us the plain truth,
father; if you had known that your opponents really held
this doctrine, the interests of your Society might perhaps
have made you scruple before pronouncing this public approval
of it; but, acting on the supposition that they were
hostile to the doctrine, the same powerful motive has induced
you to authorize sentiments which you know in your heart to
be contrary to those of your Society; and by this blunder,
in your anxiety to ruin their principles, you have yourself
completely confirmed them. So that, by a kind of prodigy,
we now behold the advocates of efficacious grace vindicated
.bn 374.png
.pn +1
by the advocates of Molina—an admirable instance of the
wisdom of God in making all things concur to advance the
glory of the truth.

Let the whole world observe, then, that by your own admission,
the truth of this efficacious grace, which is so essential
to all the acts of piety, which is so dear to the Church,
and which is the purchase of her Saviour’s blood, is so indisputably
Catholic, that there is not a single Catholic, not even
among the Jesuits, who would not acknowledge its orthodoxy.
And let it be noticed, at the same time, that, according
to your own confession, not the slightest suspicion of
error can fall on those whom you have so often stigmatized
with it. For so long as you charged them with clandestine
heresies, without choosing to specify them by name, it was
as difficult for them to defend themselves as it was easy for
you to bring such accusations. But now, when you have
come to declare that the error which constrains you to oppose
them, is the heresy of Calvin which you supposed them
to hold, it must be apparent to every one that they are innocent
of all error; for so decidedly hostile are they to this,
the only error you charge upon them, that they protest, by
their discourses, by their books, by every mode, in short, in
which they can testify their sentiments, that they condemn
that heresy with their whole heart, and in the same manner
as it has been condemned by the Thomists, whom you acknowledge,
without scruple, to be Catholics, and who have
never been suspected to be anything else.

What will you say against them now, father? Will you
say that they are heretics still, because, although they do
not adopt the sense of Calvin, they will not allow that the
sense of Jansenius is the same with that of Calvin? Will
you presume to say that this is matter of heresy? Is it not
a pure question of fact, with which heresy has nothing to
do? It would be heretical to say that we have not the power
of resisting efficacious grace; but would it be so to doubt
that Jansenius held that doctrine? Is this a revealed truth?
Is it an article of faith which must be believed, on pain of
.bn 375.png
.pn +1
damnation? or is it not, in spite of you, a point of fact, on
account of which it would be ridiculous to hold that there
were heretics in the Church.

Drop this epithet, then, father, and give them some other
name, more suited to the nature of your dispute. Tell them,
they are ignorant and stupid—that they misunderstand Jansenius.
These would be charges in keeping with your controversy;
but it is quite irrelevant to call them heretics. As
this, however, is the only charge from which I am anxious to
defend them, I shall not give myself much trouble to show
that they rightly understand Jansenius. All I shall say on
the point, father, is, that it appears to me that were he to be
judged according to your own rules, it would be difficult to
prove him not to be a good Catholic. We shall try him by
the test you have proposed. “To know,” say you, “whether
Jansenius is sound or not, we must inquire whether he defends
efficacious grace in the manner of Calvin, who denies
that man has the power of resisting it—in which case he
would be heretical; or in the manner of the Thomists, who
admit that it may be resisted—for then he would be Catholic.”
Judge, then, father, whether he holds that grace may
be resisted, when he says, “That we have always a power to
resist grace, according to the council; that free will may always
act or not act, will or not will, consent or not consent,
do good or do evil; and that man, in this life, has always
these two liberties, which may be called by some contradictions.”[344]
Judge, likewise, if he be not opposed to the error
of Calvin, as you have described it, when he occupies a whole
chapter (21st) in showing “that the Church has condemned
that heretic who denies that efficacious grace acts on the free
will in the manner which has been so long believed in the
Church, so as to leave it in the power of free will to consent
or not to consent; whereas, according to St. Augustine and
the council, we have always the power of withholding our
consent if we choose; and according to St. Prosper, God bestows
.bn 376.png
.pn +1
even upon his elect the will to persevere, in such a
way as not to deprive them of the power to will the contrary.”
And, in one word, judge if he do not agree with the
Thomists, from the following declaration in chapter 4th:
“That all that the Thomists have written with the view of
reconciling the efficaciousness of grace with the power of
resisting it, so entirely coincides with his judgment, that to
ascertain his sentiments on this subject, we have only to consult
their writings.”

.pm fns 344
His Treatise <i>passim</i>, and particularly tom. 3, l. 8, c. 20.
.pm fne

Such being the language he holds on these heads, my
opinion is, that he believes in the power of resisting grace;
that he differs from Calvin, and agrees with the Thomists,
because he has said so; and that he is, therefore, according
to your own showing, a Catholic. If you have any means
of knowing the sense of an author otherwise than by his expressions;
and if, without quoting any of his passages, you
are disposed to maintain, in direct opposition to his own
words, that he denies this power of resistance, and that he is
for Calvin and against the Thomists, do not be afraid, father,
that I will accuse you of heresy for that. I shall only say,
that you do not seem properly to understand Jansenius; but
we shall not be the less on that account children of the same
Church.

How comes it, then, father, that you manage this dispute
in such a passionate spirit, and that you treat as your most
cruel enemies, and as the most pestilent of heretics, a class
of persons whom you cannot accuse of any error, nor of anything
whatever, except that they do not understand Jansenius
as you do? For what else in the world do you dispute
about, except the sense of that author? You would have
them to condemn it. They ask what you mean them to condemn.
You reply, that you mean the error of Calvin. They
rejoin that they condemn that error; and with this acknowledgment
(unless it is syllables you wish to condemn, and
not the thing which they signify), you ought to rest satisfied.
If they refuse to say that they condemn the sense of Jansenius,
it is because they believe it to be that of St. Thomas,
.bn 377.png
.pn +1
and thus this unhappy phrase has a very equivocal meaning
betwixt you. In your mouth it signifies the sense of Calvin;
in theirs the sense of St. Thomas. Your dissensions arise
entirely from the different ideas which you attach to the
same term. Were I made umpire in the quarrel, I would
interdict the use of the word Jansenius, on both sides; and
thus, by obliging you merely to express what you understand
by it, it would be seen that you ask nothing more than the
condemnation of Calvin, to which they willingly agree; and
that they ask nothing more than the vindication of the sense
of St. Augustine and St. Thomas, in which you again perfectly
coincide.

I declare, then, father, that for my part I shall continue to
regard them as good Catholics, whether they condemn Jansenius,
on finding him erroneous, or refuse to condemn him,
from finding that he maintains nothing more than what you
yourself acknowledge to be orthodox; and that I shall say
to them what St. Jerome said to John, bishop of Jerusalem,
who was accused of holding the eight propositions of Origen:
“Either condemn Origen, if you acknowledge that he has
maintained these errors, or else deny that he has maintained
them—<lang=la><i>Aut nega hoc dixisse eum qui arguitur; aut si locutus
est talia, eum damna qui dixerit</i></lang>.”

See, father, how these persons acted, whose sole concern
was with principles, and not with persons; whereas you
who aim at persons more than principles, consider it a matter
of no consequence to condemn errors, unless you procure
the condemnation of the individuals to whom you choose to
impute them.

How ridiculously violent your conduct is, father! and how
ill calculated to insure success! I told you before, and I
repeat it, violence and verity can make no impression on each
other. Never were your accusations more outrageous, and
never was the innocence of your opponents more discernible:
never has efficacious grace been attacked with greater subtility,
and never has it been more triumphantly established.
You have made the most desperate efforts to convince people
.bn 378.png
.pn +1
that your disputes involved points of faith; and never
was it more apparent that the whole controversy turned upon
a mere point of fact. In fine, you have moved heaven and
earth to make it appear that this point of fact is founded on
truth; and never were people more disposed to call it in
question. And the obvious reason of this is, that you do not
take the natural course to make them believe a point of fact,
which is to convince their senses, and point out to them in a
book the words which you allege are to be found in it. The
means you have adopted are so far removed from this
straightforward course, that the most obtuse minds are unavoidably
struck by observing it. Why did you not take
the plan which I followed in bringing to light the wicked
maxims of your authors—which was to cite faithfully the
passages of their writings from which they were extracted?
This was the mode followed by the curés of Paris, and it
never fails to produce conviction. But, when you were
charged by them with holding, for example, the proposition
of Father Lamy, that a “monk may kill a person who threatens
to publish calumnies against himself or his order, when
he cannot otherwise prevent the publication,”—what would
you have thought, and what would the public have said, if
they had not quoted the place where that sentiment is literally
to be found? or if, after having been repeatedly demanded
to quote their authority, they still obstinately refused to do
it? or if, instead of acceding to this, they had gone off to
Rome, and procured a bull, ordaining all men to acknowledge
the truth of their statement? Would it not be undoubtedly
concluded that they had surprised the pope, and
that they would never have had recourse to this extraordinary
method, but for want of the natural means of substantiating
the truth, which matters of fact furnish to all who
undertake to prove them? Accordingly, they had no more
to do than to tell us that Father Lamy teaches this doctrine
<cite>in tome 5, disp. 36, n. 118, page 544, of the Douay edition</cite>;
and by this means everybody who wished to see it found it out,
and nobody could doubt about it any longer. This appears
.bn 379.png
.pn +1
to be a very easy and prompt way of putting an end to controversies
of fact, when one has got the right side of the
question.

How comes it, then, father, that you do not follow this
plan? You said, in your book, that the five propositions are
in Jansenius, word for word, in the identical terms—<lang=la><i>iisdem
verbis</i></lang>. You were told they were not. What had you to do
after this, but either to cite the page, if you had really found
the words, or to acknowledge that you were mistaken. But
you have done neither the one nor the other. In place of
this, on finding that all the passages from Jansenius, which
you sometimes adduce for the purpose of hoodwinking the
people, are not “the condemned propositions in their individual
identity,” as you had engaged to show us, you present
us with Constitutions from Rome, which, without specifying
any particular place, declare that the propositions have been
extracted from his book.

I am sensible, father, of the respect which Christians owe
to the Holy See, and your antagonists give sufficient evidence
of their resolution ever to abide by its decisions. Do not
imagine that it implied any deficiency in this due deference
on their part, that they represented to the pope, with all the
submission which children owe to their father, and members
to their head, that it was possible he might be deceived on
this point of fact—that he had not caused it to be investigated
during his pontificate; and that his predecessor, Innocent
X., had merely examined into the heretical character
of the propositions, and not into the fact of their connection
with Jansenius. This they stated to the commissary of the
Holy Office, one of the principal examinators, stating, that
they could not be censured, according to the sense of any
author, because they had been presented for examination on
their own merits, and without considering to what author
they might belong: further, that upwards of sixty doctors,
and a vast number of other persons of learning and piety, had
read that book carefully over, without ever having encountered
the proscribed propositions, and that they have found
.bn 380.png
.pn +1
some of a quite opposite description: that those who had
produced that impression on the mind of the pope, might be
reasonably presumed to have abused the confidence he reposed
in them, inasmuch as they had an interest in decrying
that author, who has convicted Molina of upwards of fifty
errors:[345] that what renders this supposition still more probable
is, that they have a certain maxim among them, one of
the best authenticated in their whole system of theology,
which is, “that they may, without criminality, calumniate
those by whom they conceive themselves to be unjustly attacked:”
and that, accordingly, their testimony being so
suspicious, and the testimony of the other party so respectable,
they had some ground for supplicating his holiness, with
the most profound humility, that he would ordain an investigation
to be made into this fact, in the presence of doctors
belonging to both parties, in order that a solemn and regular
decision might be formed on the point in dispute. “Let
there be a convocation of able judges (says St. Basil on a
similar occasion, Ep. 75); let each of them be left at perfect
freedom; let them examine my writings; let them judge if
they contain errors against the faith; let them read the objections
and the replies; that so a judgment may be given
in due form, and with proper knowledge of the case, and not
a defamatory libel without examination.”

.pm fns 345
“It may be proper here to give an explanation of the hatred of
the Jesuits against Jansenius. When the <cite>Augustinus</cite> of that author
was printed in 1640, Libertus Fromond, the celebrated professor of
Louvain, resolved to insert in the end of the book of his friend, who had
died two years before, a parallel between the doctrine of the Jesuits on
grace, and the errors of the Marseillois or demi-Pelagians. This was
quite enough to raise the rancor of the Jesuits against Jansenius whom
they erroneously supposed was the author of that parallel. And as
these fathers have long since erased from their code of morals the duty
of the forgiveness of injuries, they commenced their campaign against
the book of Jansenius in the Low Countries, by a large volume of Theological
Theses (in folio, 1641), which are very singular productions.”
(Note by Nicole.)
.pm fne

It is quite vain for you, father, to represent those who
would act in the manner I have now supposed as deficient
in proper subjection to the Holy See. The popes are very
far from being disposed to treat Christians with that imperiousness
.bn 381.png
.pn +1
which some would fain exercise under their name.
“The Church,” says Pope St. Gregory,[346] “which has been
trained in the school of humility, does not command with
authority, but persuades by reason, her children whom she
believes to be in error, to obey what she has taught them.”
And so far from deeming it a disgrace to review a judgment
into which they may have been surprised, we have the testimony
of St. Bernard for saying that they glory in acknowledging
the mistake. “The Apostolic See (he says, Ep. 180)
can boast of this recommendation, that it never stands on
the point of honor, but willingly revokes a decision that has
been gained from it by surprise; indeed, it is highly just to
prevent any from profiting by an act of injustice, and more
especially before the Holy See.”

.pm fns 346
On the Book of Job, lib. viii., cap. 1.
.pm fne

Such, father, are the proper sentiments with which the
popes ought to be inspired; for all divines are agreed that
they may be surprised,[347] and that their supreme character,
so far from warranting them against mistakes, exposes them
the more readily to fall into them, on account of the vast
number of cares which claim their attention. This is what
the same St. Gregory says to some persons who were astonished
at the circumstance of another pope having suffered
himself to be deluded: “Why do you wonder,” says he,
“that we should be deceived, we who are but men? Have
you not read that David, a king who had the spirit of prophecy,
was induced, by giving credit to the falsehoods of
Ziba, to pronounce an unjust judgment against the son of
Jonathan? Who will think it strange, then, that we, who
are not prophets, should sometimes be imposed upon by deceivers?
A multiplicity of affairs presses on us, and our
minds, which, by being obliged to attend to so many things
at once, apply themselves less closely to each in particular,
are the more easily liable to be imposed upon in individual
cases.”[348] Truly, father, I should suppose that the popes
.bn 382.png
.pn +1
know better than you whether they may be deceived or not.
They themselves tell us that popes, as well as the greatest
princes, are more exposed to deception than individuals who
are less occupied with important avocations. This must be
believed on their testimony. And it is easy to imagine by
what means they come to be thus over-reached. St. Bernard,
in the letter which he wrote to Innocent II., gives us the
following description of the process: “It is no wonder, and
no novelty, that the human mind may be deceived, and is
deceived. You are surrounded by monks who come to you
in the spirit of lying and deceit. They have filled your ears
with stories against a bishop, whose life has been most exemplary,
but who is the object of their hatred. These persons
bite like dogs, and strive to make good appear evil.
Meanwhile, most holy father, you put yourself into a rage
against your own son. Why have you afforded matter of
joy to his enemies? Believe not every spirit, but try the
spirits whether they be of God. I trust that, when you
have ascertained the truth, all this delusion, which rests on a
false report, will be dissipated. I pray the Spirit of truth to
grant you the grace to separate light from darkness, and to
favor the good by rejecting the evil.” You see then, father,
that the eminent rank of the popes does not exempt them
from the influence of delusion; and I may now add, that it
only serves to render their mistakes more dangerous and important
than those of other men. This is the light in which
St. Bernard represents them to Pope Eugenius: “There is
another fault, so common among the great of this world, that
I never met one of them who was free from it; and that is,
holy father, an excessive credulity, the source of numerous
disorders. From this proceed violent persecutions against
the innocent, unfounded prejudices against the absent, and
tremendous storms about nothing (<lang=la><i>pro nihilo</i></lang>). This, holy
father, is a universal evil, from the influence of which, if you
are exempt, I shall only say, you are the only individual
among all your compeers who can boast of that privilege.”[349]

.pm fns 347
<em>Surprise</em> is the word used to denote the case of the pope when taken
at unawares or deceived by false accounts.
.pm fne

.pm fns 348
Lib. i., in Dial.
.pm fne

.pm fns 349
De Consid. lib. ii., c. ult.
.pm fne
.bn 383.png
.pn +1

I imagine, father, that the proofs I have brought are beginning
to convince you that the popes are liable to be surprised.
But, to complete your conversion, I shall merely
remind you of some examples, which you yourself have
quoted in your book, of popes and emperors whom heretics
have actually deceived. You will remember, then, that you
have told us that Apollinarius surprised Pope Damasius, in
the same way that Celestius surprised Zozimus. You inform
us, besides, that one called Athanasius deceived the Emperor
Heraclius, and prevailed on him to persecute the Catholics.
And lastly, that Sergius obtained from Honorius that infamous
decretal which was burned at the sixth council, “by
playing the busy-body,” as you say, “about the person of
that pope.”

It appears, then, father, by your own confession, that those
who act this part about the persons of kings and popes, do
sometimes artfully entice them to persecute the faithful defenders
of the truth, under the persuasion that they are persecuting
heretics. And hence the popes, who hold nothing
in greater horror than these surprisals, have, by a letter of
Alexander III., enacted an ecclesiastical statute, which is
inserted in the canonical law, to permit the suspension of the
execution of their bulls and decretals, when there is ground
to suspect that they have been imposed upon. “If,” says
that pope to the Archbishop of Ravenna, “we sometimes
send decretals to your fraternity which are opposed to your
sentiments, give yourselves no distress on that account. We
shall expect you either to carry them respectfully into execution,
or to send us the reason why you conceive they ought
not to be executed; for we deem it right that you should
not execute a decree, which may have been procured from
us by artifice and surprise.” Such has been the course pursued
by the popes, whose sole object is to settle the disputes
of Christians, and not to follow the passionate counsels of
those who strive to involve them in trouble and perplexity.
Following the advice of St. Peter and St. Paul, who in this
followed the commandment of Jesus Christ, they avoid domination.
.bn 384.png
.pn +1
The spirit which appears in their whole conduct is
that of peace and truth.[350] In this spirit they ordinarily insert
in their letters this clause, which is tacitly understood
in them all—“<lang=la><i>Si ita est—si preces veritate nilantur</i></lang>—If it be
so as we have heard it—if the facts be true.” It is quite
clear, if the popes themselves give no force to their bulls,
except in so far as they are founded on genuine facts, that it
is not the bulls alone that prove the truth of the facts, but
that, on the contrary, even according to the canonists, it
is the truth of the facts which renders the bulls lawfully
admissible.

.pm fns 350
Alas! alas!
.pm fne

In what way, then, are we to learn the truth of facts? It
must be by the eyes, father, which are the legitimate judges
of such matters, as reason is the proper judge of things
natural and intelligible, and faith of things supernatural and
revealed. For, since you will force me into this discussion,
you must allow me to tell you, that, according to the sentiments
of the two greatest doctors of the Church, St. Augustine
and St. Thomas, these three principles of our knowledge,
the senses, reason, and faith, have each their separate objects,
and their own degrees of certainty. And as God has been
pleased to employ the intervention of the senses to give entrance
to faith (for “faith cometh by hearing”), it follows,
that so far from faith destroying the certainty of the senses,
to call in question the faithful report of the senses, would
lead to the destruction of faith. It is on this principle that
St. Thomas explicitly states that God has been pleased that
the sensible accidents should subsist in the eucharist, in order
that the senses, which judge only of these accidents, might
not be deceived.

We conclude, therefore, from this, that whatever the proposition
may be that is submitted to our examination, we
must first determine its nature, to ascertain to which of those
three principles it ought to be referred. If it relate to a supernatural
truth, we must judge of it neither by the senses nor
by reason, but by Scripture and the decisions of the Church.
.bn 385.png
.pn +1
Should it concern an unrevealed truth, and something within
the reach of natural reason, reason must be its proper judge.
And if it embrace a point of fact, we must yield to the testimony
of the senses, to which it naturally belongs to take
cognizance of such matters.

So general is this rule, that, according to St. Augustine
and St. Thomas, when we meet with a passage even in the
Scripture, the literal meaning of which, at first sight, appears
contrary to what the senses or reason are certainly persuaded
of, we must not attempt to reject their testimony in this
case, and yield them up to the authority of that apparent
sense of the Scripture, but we must interpret the Scripture,
and seek out therein another sense agreeable to that sensible
truth; because, the Word of God being infallible in the facts
which it records, and the information of the senses and of
reason, acting in their sphere, being certain also, it follows
that there must be an agreement between these two sources
of knowledge. And as Scripture may be interpreted in different
ways, whereas the testimony of the senses is uniform,
we must in these matters adopt as the true interpretation of
Scripture that view which corresponds with the faithful report
of the senses. “Two things,” says St. Thomas, “must
be observed, according to the doctrine of St. Augustine: first,
That Scripture has always one true sense; and secondly, That
as it may receive various senses, when we have discovered
one which reason plainly teaches to be false, we must not persist
in maintaining that this is the natural sense, but search
out another with which reason will agree.”[351]

.pm fns 351
I. p. q. 68, a. l.
.pm fne

St. Thomas explains his meaning by the example of a
passage in Genesis, where it is written that “God created
two great lights, the sun and the moon, and also the stars,”
in which the Scripture appears to say that the moon is
greater than all the stars; but as it is evident, from unquestionable
demonstration, that this is false, it is not our duty,
says that saint, obstinately to defend the literal sense of that
passage; another meaning must be sought, consistent with
.bn 386.png
.pn +1
the truth of the fact, such as the following, “That the phrase
<em>great light</em>, as applied to the moon, denotes the greatness of
that luminary merely as it appears in our eyes, and not the
magnitude of its body considered in itself.”

An opposite mode of treatment, so far from procuring respect
to the Scripture, would only expose it to the contempt
of infidels; because, as St. Augustine says, “when they
found that we believed, on the authority of Scripture, in
things which they assuredly knew to be false, they would
laugh at our credulity with regard to its more recondite
truths, such as the resurrection of the dead and eternal life.”
“And by this means,” adds St. Thomas, “we should render
our religion contemptible in their eyes, and shut up its entrance
into their minds.”

And let me add, father, that it would in the same manner
be the likeliest means to shut up the entrance of Scripture
into the minds of heretics, and to render the pope’s authority
contemptible in their eyes, to refuse all those the name of
Catholics who would not believe that certain words were in
a certain book, where they are not to be found, merely because
a pope by mistake has declared that they are. It is
only by examining a book that we can ascertain what words
it contains. Matters of fact can only be proved by the
senses. If the position which you maintain be true, show it,
or else ask no man to believe it—that would be to no purpose.
Not all the powers on earth can, by the force of
authority, persuade us of a point of fact, any more than
they can alter it; for nothing can make that to be not which
really is.

It was to no purpose, for example, that the monks of Ratisbon
procured from Pope St. Leo IX. a solemn decree, by
which he declared that the body of St. Denis, the first bishop
of Paris, who is generally held to have been the Areopagite,
had been transported out of France, and conveyed into the
chapel of their monastery. It is not the less true, for all
this, that the body of that saint always lay, and lies to this
hour, in the celebrated abbey which bears his name, and
.bn 387.png
.pn +1
within the walls of which you would find it no easy matter
to obtain a cordial reception to this bull, although the pope
has therein assured us that he has examined the affair “with
all possible diligence (<lang=la><i>diligentissimè</i></lang>), and with the advice of
many bishops and prelates; so that he strictly enjoins all the
French (<lang=la><i>districte præcipientes</i></lang>) to own and confess that these
holy relics are no longer in their country.” The French,
however, who knew that fact to be untrue, by the evidence
of their own eyes, and who, upon opening the shrine, found
all those relics entire, as the historians of that period inform
us, believed then, as they have always believed since, the reverse
of what that holy pope had enjoined them to believe,
well knowing that even saints and prophets are liable to be
imposed upon.

It was to equally little purpose that you obtained against
Galileo a decree from Rome, condemning his opinion respecting
the motion of the earth. It will never be proved by such
an argument as this that the earth remains stationary; and
if it can be demonstrated by sure observation that it is the
earth and not the sun that revolves, the efforts and arguments
of all mankind put together will not hinder our planet
from revolving, nor hinder themselves from revolving along
with her.

Again, you must not imagine that the letters of Pope
Zachary, excommunicating St. Virgilius for maintaining the
existence of the antipodes, have annihilated the New World;
nor must you suppose that, although he declared that opinion
to be a most dangerous heresy, the king of Spain was
wrong in giving more credence to Christopher Columbus,
who came from the place, than to the judgment of the pope,
who had never been there, or that the Church has not derived
a vast benefit from the discovery, inasmuch as it has
brought the knowledge of the Gospel to a great multitude
of souls, who might otherwise have perished in their infidelity.

You see, then, father, what is the nature of matters of
fact, and on what principles they are to be determined; from
.bn 388.png
.pn +1
all which, to recur to our subject, it is easy to conclude, that
if the five propositions are not in Jansenius, it is impossible
that they can have been extracted from him; and that the
only way to form a judgment on the matter, and to produce
universal conviction, is to examine that book in a regular
conference, as you have been desired to do long ago. Until
that be done, you have no right to charge your opponents
with contumacy; for they are as blameless in regard to the
point of fact as they are of errors in point of faith—Catholics
in doctrine, reasonable in fact, and innocent in both.

Who can help feeling astonishment, then, father, to see on
the one side a vindication so complete, and on the other accusations
so outrageous! Who would suppose that the only
question between you relates to a single fact of no importance,
which the one party wishes the other to believe without
showing it to them! And who would ever imagine that
such a noise should have been made in the Church for nothing
(<lang=la><i>pro nihilo</i></lang>), as good St. Bernard says! But this is just
one of the principal tricks of your policy, to make people believe
that everything is at stake, when, in reality, there is
nothing at stake; and to represent to those influential persons
who listen to you, that the most pernicious errors of
Calvin, and the most vital principles of the faith, are involved
in your disputes, with the view of inducing them, under this
conviction, to employ all their zeal and all their authority
against your opponents, as if the safety of the Catholic religion
depended upon it; whereas, if they came to know that
the whole dispute was about this paltry point of fact, they
would give themselves no concern about it, but would, on
the contrary, regret extremely that, to gratify your private
passions, they had made such exertions in an affair of no
consequence to the Church. For, in fine, to take the worst
view of the matter, even though it should be true that Jansenius
maintained these propositions, what great misfortune
would accrue from some persons doubting of the fact, provided
they detested the propositions, as they have publicly
declared that they do? Is it not enough that they are condemned
.bn 389.png
.pn +1
by everybody, without exception, and that, too, in
the sense in which you have explained that you wish them
to be condemned? Would they be more severely censured
by saying that Jansenius maintained them? What purpose,
then, would be served by exacting this acknowledgment, except
that of disgracing a doctor and bishop, who died in the
communion of the Church? I cannot see how that should
be accounted so great a blessing as to deserve to be purchased
at the expense of so many disturbances. What interest
has the state, or the pope, or bishops, or doctors, or the
Church at large, in this conclusion? It does not affect them
in any way whatever, father; it can affect none but your
Society, which would certainly enjoy some pleasure from the
defamation of an author who has done you some little injury.
Meanwhile everything is in confusion, because you have made
people believe that everything is in danger. This is the secret
spring giving impulse to all those mighty commotions,
which would cease immediately were the real state of the
controversy once known. And therefore, as the peace of the
Church depended on this explanation, it was, I conceive, of
the utmost importance that it should be given, that, by exposing
all your disguises, it might be manifest to the whole
world that your accusations were without foundation, your
opponents without error, and the Church without heresy.

Such, father, is the end which it has been my desire to
accomplish; an end which appears to me, in every point of
view, so deeply important to religion, that I am at a loss to
conceive how those to whom you furnish so much occasion
for speaking can contrive to remain in silence. Granting
that they are not affected with the personal wrongs which
you have committed against them, those which the Church
suffers ought, in my opinion, to have forced them to complain.
Besides, I am not altogether sure if ecclesiastics
ought to make a sacrifice of their reputation to calumny,
especially in the matter of religion. They allow you, nevertheless,
to say whatever you please; so that, had it not been
for the opportunity which, by mere accident, you afforded
.bn 390.png
.pn +1
me of taking their part, the scandalous impressions which
you are circulating against them in all quarters would, in all
probability, have gone forth without contradiction. Their
patience, I confess, astonishes me; and the more so, that I
cannot suspect it of proceeding either from timidity or from
incapacity, being well assured that they want neither arguments
for their own vindication, nor zeal for the truth. And
yet I see them religiously bent on silence, to a degree which
appears to me altogether unjustifiable. For my part, father,
I do not believe that I can possibly follow their example.
Leave the Church in peace, and I shall leave you as you are,
with all my heart; but so long as you make it your sole
business to keep her in confusion, doubt not but that there
shall always be found within her bosom children of peace,
who will consider themselves bound to employ all their endeavors
to preserve her tranquillity.

.fm lz=t

.bn 391.png
.pn +1

.sp 4
.h2
LETTER XIX.

.fs 80%
.ce
FRAGMENT OF A NINETEENTH PROVINCIAL LETTER, ADDRESSED TO PERE ANNAT.
.fs

.sp 2

<sc>Reverend Sir</sc>,—If I have caused you some dissatisfaction,
in former Letters, by my endeavors to establish the innocence
of those whom you were laboring to asperse, I shall afford
you pleasure in the present, by making you acquainted with
the sufferings which you have inflicted upon them. Be comforted,
my good father, the objects of your enmity are in
distress! And if the Reverend the Bishops should be induced
to carry out, in their respective dioceses, the advice
you have given them, to cause to be subscribed and sworn
a certain matter of fact, which is, in itself, not credible, and
which it cannot be obligatory upon any one to believe—you
will indeed succeed in plunging your opponents to the depth
of sorrow, at witnessing the Church brought into so abject a
condition.

Yes, sir, I have seen them; and it was with a satisfaction
inexpressible! I have seen these holy men; and this was the
attitude in which they were found. They were not wrapt
up in a philosophic magnanimity; they did not affect to exhibit
that indiscriminate firmness which urges implicit obedience
to every momentary impulsive duty; nor yet were they
in a frame of weakness and timidity, which would prevent
them from either discerning the truth, or following it when
discerned. But I found them with minds pious, composed,
and unshaken; impressed with a meek deference for ecclesiastical
authority; with tenderness of spirit, zeal for truth, and
a desire to ascertain and obey her dictates: filled with a salutary
suspicion of themselves, distrusting their own infirmity,
and regretting that it should be thus exposed to trial
.bn 392.png
.pn +1
yet withal, sustained by a modest hope that their Lord will
deign to instruct them by his illuminations, and sustain them
by his power; and believing, that that peace of their Saviour,
whose sacred influences it is their endeavor to maintain, and
for whose cause they are brought into suffering, will be, at
once, their guide and their support! I have, in fine, seen
them maintaining a character of Christian piety, whose
power....

.tb

I found them surrounded by their friends, who had hastened
to impart those counsels which they deemed the most fitting
in their present exigency. I have heard those counsels; I
have observed the manner in which they were received, and
the answers given: and truly, my father, had you yourself
been present, I think you would have acknowledged that, in
their whole procedure, there was the entire absence of a
spirit of insubordination and schism; and that their only desire
and aim was, to preserve inviolate two things—to them
infinitely precious—peace and truth.

For, after due representations had been made to them of
the penalties they would draw upon themselves by their refusal
to sign the Constitution, and the scandal it might cause
in the Church, their reply was....

.tb

.ce
THE END

.ni

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.ce
<xxl>CARTERS’ CATALOGUE.</xxl>

.hr

.ce
<l>REMOVAL.</l>

<i>Robert Carter & Brothers have removed from No.
285, to No. 530 Broadway, corner of Spring-street.</i>

.hr

.nf r
.ce 2
530 Broadway, New York,
August, 1856.
.nf-

.sp 2

.nf c
<xl>ROBERT CARTER & BROTHERS’</xl>
<l>New Publications.</l>
.nf-

.hr 50%

.nf c
<l>The Gospel in Ezekiel,</l>
By Thomas Guthrie, D.D. 12mo. $1\_00.

<l>Typical Forms and Special Ends in Creation.</l>
By James McCosh, LL.D., and Dr. Dickie. 8vo. $2\_00.
.nf-

.in +1
.ti -1 begin
<s>“Those who have read McCosh’s great work on the Divine Government, will
not wait for any favorable testimony to any thing that comes from his pen,
but will regard his name on the title-page as a sufficient voucher for all that is
to follow. The present work fulfills any expectations, even the highest, that
could have been awakened by the preceding one. It is alike comprehensive
in its range, accurate and minute in its details, original in its structure, and devout
and spirited in its tone and tendency. It illustrates and carries out the
great principle of analogy in the Divine plans and works, far more minutely
and satisfactorily than it has been done before; and while it presents the results
of the most profound scientific research, it presents them in their higher
and spiritual relations.”—<i>Argus.</i></s>
.ti end
.in

.nf c
<l>Dr. Williams’s Sermon on Missions.</l>
18mo, cloth, gilt edge. 25\_cents.

<l>Dr. Rice’s Sermon on Preaching.</l>
18mo, cloth, gilt edge. 25\_cents.

<l>Caird’s Sermon before the Queen.</l>
18mo, cloth, gilt edge. 25\_cents.

<l>The Theology of Inventions; or, Manifestations of Deity in the works of Art.</l>
By the Rev. John Blakely. 12mo. 75\_cents.

<l>Emblems from Eden.</l>
By James Hamilton, D.D. 18mo. 30\_cents.

<l>The Christian’s Great Interest.</l>
By the Rev. William Guthrie, with Introd. by Dr. Chalmers. 50\_cts.
.bn 394.png

<l>Evening Incense.</l>
By the author of the “Morning and Night Watches.” 40\_cents.

<l>Lectures to Young Men Delivered, in London for 1856. $1\_00.</l>

<l>Evenings with the Romanists.</l>
By Rev. Hobart Seymour. 12mo. $1\_00.

Dr. Sprague’s great work.
<l>The Annals of the American Pulpit.</l>
By W. B. Sprague, D.D. Vols. 1 and 2, <sc>Congregationalists</sc>. 8vo.
.nf-

.in +1
<s>The first volume commences with John Robinson, the first New England
Pastor, and extends to 1770; and the second volume from this period to the
close of 1855.</s>

<s>These volumes contain sketches of about three hundred Congregational ministers,
including every one who has been considerably distinguished, with contributions
by a large proportion of the most prominent clergymen of different
denominations, as well as from many of the most distinguished statesmen now
on the stage. In all cases in which there is any person living to testify concerning
the character, there are original letters of personal recollection; and
in all other cases the author has appropriated what has been written and published
by the cotemporaries of the subjects who could speak from actual
knowledge. These volumes contain the most complete, as well as most interesting
history of this branch of the Christian Church that has yet been published.</s>
.in

.nf c
<l>The Power, Wisdom, and Goodness of God, as manifested in the Constitution of the Human Soul,</l>
A Course of Lectures by R. S. Storrs, D.D. 8vo.

<l>Africa’s Mountain Valley.</l>
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<l>The Christian Philosopher.</l>
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<l>Trade and Letters.</l>
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<l>Lee on the Inspiration of Holy Scripture. 8vo. $</l>

<l>Essays; Theological and Miscellaneous.</l>
By Charles Hodge, D.D. 8vo.

<l>Sacred Classics.</l>
.nf-

.in +2
.ti -2 begin
<s>A series of the choicest productions of the great Divines of the seventeenth
century, such as Jeremy Taylor, Bates, Beveridge, Bishop
Hall, Butler, Howe, Baxter, Leighton, and others. The volumes
will be in neat 12mo form, large type, and uniformly bound in cloth.</s>
.ti end
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.pb

.bn 395.png

.nf c
<xl>NEW JUVENILE BOOKS.</xl>

<l>Edward Clifford; or, Memories of Childhood,</l>
With six illustrations. 16mo. 75\_cents.
.nf-

.in +1
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and bereft in early infancy of a dear mother’s tender sympathies and care, felt
deeply the cold indifference of those who could not appreciate the chords of a
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.nf c
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Illustrated. 16mo. 75\_cents.
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By the same. 16mo. 75\_cents.
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it, there is but little need to resort to fiction for the instruction of the young.”—<i>Evangelist.</i></s>
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<s>“The contents of this volume will prove more attractive to ingenuous youth
than stories of giants and castles, and more wonderful than fiction.”—<i>Observer.</i></s>
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.nf c
<l>The Adopted Son, and other Tales.</l>
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<l>Aunt Edith; or, Love to God the Best Motive.</l>
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New Editions, in cheaper form, of
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.ta lcrc
<sc>Florence Egerton.</sc>                      | 18mo. | 50 | cts.
<sc>Emily Vernon.</sc>                          | ”     | 50 | ”
<sc>Jeanie Morrison.</sc>                       | ”     | 50 | ”
<sc>Kate Kilborn.</sc> By the same author.      | 18mo. | 50 | ”
<sc>Southern Cross and Southern Crown.</sc>     | ”     | 50 | ”
<sc>Contributions of Q. Q. By Jane Taylor.</sc> | 18mo. | 50 | ”
<sc>Abeokutta. By Miss Tucker.</sc>             | ”     | 50 | ”
<sc>May Dundas. By Mrs. Geldart.</sc>           | ”     | 50 | ”
<sc>Fritz Harold; or, The Temptation.</sc>      | ”     | 40 | ”
<sc>Ashton Cottage, a Tale.</sc>                | ”     | 40 | ”
.ta-

.pb

.bn 396.png

.nf c
<xl>EXPOSITORY WORKS.</xl>

<l>Dr. Hodge’s Commentary on Ephesians.</l>
8vo. $2\_00.
.nf-

.in +1
.ti -1 begin
<s>“This is a work for the minister, for biblical scholars, and for all who can appreciate
the mature results of thorough study and sacred learning in the lucid
exposition of a very interesting portion of the Word of God. It is not a hasty
production, but an elaborate commentary, giving in a condensed style, with
great clearness, the precise meaning of every passage in this rich Epistle, exhibiting,
as understood by the author, the glowing thoughts that warmed
and kindled the affections of the inspired Apostle while composing it.”—<i>Chn.
Observer.</i></s>
.ti end
.in

.nf c
<l>Dr. Jacobus’s Notes on the Gospel of John.</l>
12mo. 75\_cents.
.nf-

.in +1
.ti -1 begin
<s>“The Author, by his learning, taste, and skill, is eminently qualified for the responsible
work of an annotator on the Holy Scriptures. In his Notes, he
combines the marrow and fatness of many commentators with his own ideas,
and associates his comments with a Harmony of the Gospels, in a very impressive
manner.”—<i>Zion’s Herald.</i></s>

⁂ <s>This volume completes Dr. Jacobus’s Commentary on the Gospels—Vol. I.
being Matthew—Vol. II., Mark and Luke—Vol. III., John. The volumes are all
uniform, price $2\_25 for the set.</s>
.ti end
.in

.nf c
<l>Dr. Moore on Haggai, Zechariah and Malachi.</l>
8vo. $2\_00.
.nf-

.in +1
.ti -1 begin
<s>“This volume we regard as a substantial and highly valuable contribution to
the biblical literature of the country. The prophecies which form the subject
of it, are the more interesting from the fact that they were the last which were
delivered previous to the Messiah’s advent. The work is not so critical as to
be above the popular mind, while yet it shows a familiar acquaintance with
the rules of Scripture interpretation, and is evidently the production of a mind
at once well balanced and trained to thorough research.”—<i>Argus.</i></s>
.ti end
.in

.nf c
<l>* Dr. Sampson on the Greek Text of the Hebrews.</l>
8vo. $2\_50.
.nf-

.in +1
.ti -1 begin
<s>“This is an eminently learned work, and is designed especially to aid in a critical
investigation of this portion of Scripture, while yet there is no ostentatious display
of erudition, nor any thing that approaches an affectation of originality.
The introduction is at once clear, concise, and comprehensive. In the body of
the work, the author gives us rather the results of his inquiries than the processes
by which he arrived at them. His analyses show much patient labor, as
well as accurate discrimination.”—<i>Puritan Recorder.</i></s>
.ti end
.in

.nf c
<l>* Owen on Hebrews.</l>
8 vols. 8vo. $12\_00.
.nf-

.in +1
.ti -1 begin
<s>“Few and far between, and among the richest gifts of God to man, are such
great and good theologians as John Owen. *\_*\_* It is mentioned as a
matter of thankfulness that Dr. Owen was led to concentrate all his rare endowments
and vast resources on the exposition of the Epistle to the Hebrews.”—<i>N.
Y. Observer.</i></s>
.ti end
.in

.nf c
<l>* Dr. Eadie on Colossians.</l>
8vo. $2\_00.
.nf-

.in +1
.ti -1 begin
<s>“A work of great learning and skill, pervaded with a truly Christian spirit.”—<i>Evangelist.</i></s>
.ti end
.in

.pb

.bn 397.png

.nf c
<xl>COMMENTARIES ON THE BIBLE.</xl>

<l>* Pool’s Annotations.</l>
New edition, on larger paper, 3 vols. royal 8vo. Sheep. $10\_00.
.nf-

.in +1
.ti -1 begin
<s>“Of the general character of this work, it is sufficient to say that it brings out in
a felicitous and concise manner the meaning of the text, without connecting
with it any extended practical remarks. It contains not only the whole of the
sacred text, as many commentaries of that day did not, various readings also,
together with parallel passages; and though it never transcends the capacity
of an ordinary English reader, yet it evidently comes from a rich store-house
of biblical learning. It disposes of difficult passages, not by gathering all the
opinions that have been put forth concerning them, but by stating the writer’s
own mature judgment, with the grounds on which it has been formed. The
notes are generally brief, condensed, perspicuous, and easily remembered.”—<i>Puritan
Recorder.</i></s>
.ti end
.in

.nf c
<l>* Henry’s Commentary.</l>
5 vols. quarto. Sheep. $15\_00.
.nf-

.in +1
.ti -1 begin
<s>“It is becoming more and more the standard commentary of the Church.
Christians of all denominations, and of all grades of intellectual attainment, find
it their refreshment, their food, and their pleasure to peruse it steadily, and in
so doing they can reap a great reward. We knew, some years ago, a lady in
humble life, more than sixty years of age, who borrowed the folio edition of
Henry’s Commentary, and keeping it always open on her bed, was accustomed
to run to it whenever a single moment of leisure offered itself; so
that, by patient continuance in well-doing, even at that late period of life, she
traveled through the successive volumes, to her own great spiritual and
intellectual improvement; and in her latest hours, when on her dying bed,
she expressed her gratitude for the opportunity which she had thus enjoyed
of becoming better acquainted than ever before with the meaning of God’s
Holy Word.”—<i>Observer.</i></s>
.ti end
.in

.nf c
<l>* Doddridge’s Expositor.</l>
.nf-

.in +2
.ti -2 begin
The Family Expositor; or, a Paraphrase and Version of the New
Testament, with Critical Notes and a Practical Improvement of
Each Section, by Philip Doddridge, D.D. Royal octavo. $

The late Bishop of Durham (Dr. Barrington), in addressing his clergy
on the choice of books, says:
.ti end
.in

.in +1
.ti -1 begin
<s>“In reading the New Testament, I recommend Doddridge’s Family Expositor,
as an <i>impartial</i> <sc>INTERPRETER AND FAITHFUL</sc> <i>monitor</i>. Other Expositions might
be mentioned, greatly to the honor of their respective authors, for their several
excellences; such as, elegance of exposition, acuteness of illustration, and
copiousness of erudition; but I know of no Expositor who unites so many advantages
as Doddridge; whether you regard the fidelity of his version, the
fullness and perspicuity of his composition, the utility of his general and historical
information, the impartiality of his doctrinal comments, or, lastly, the
piety and pastoral earnestness of his moral and religious applications. He has
made, as he professes to have done, ample use of the commentators that preceded
him; and in the explanation of grammatical difficulties, he has profited
much more from the philological writers on the Greek Testament than could
almost have been expected in so multifarious an undertaking as the <i>Family
Expositor</i>. Indeed for all the most valuable purposes of a Commentary on
the New Testament, the Family Expositor can not fall too early into the hands
of those intended for holy orders.”</s>
.ti end
.in

.pb

.bn 398.png

.nf c
<xl>NEW RELIGIOUS BIOGRAPHIES.</xl>

<l>Dr. Cheever’s Life of Cowper.</l>
12mo. Illustrated. $1\_00.
.nf-

.in +1
.ti -1 begin
<s>“The author of this work could scarcely have selected a subject better adapted
to his own peculiar genius, than this which he has here chosen. He has treated
it at once philosophically, practically, and spiritually; has evinced a profound
insight into the mysteries of human nature, the nicest discrimination in respect
both to intellectual and moral qualities, and a deep sympathy with the sublimity
and tenderness, the joys, and griefs, and hopes of the exalted character
he commemorates.”—<i>Puritan Recorder.</i></s>
.ti end
.in

.nf c
<l>* Memoirs of John M. Mason, D.D.</l>
By Dr. Van Vechten. 8vo. $2\_00.
.nf-

.in +1
.ti -1 begin
<s>“This delightful memoir of a great captain in Israel will be hailed as a valuable
addition to the religious biography of our country. The literary execution of
the work is equally creditable to the talents and taste of the author, and the
most ardent admirers of Dr. Mason will admit that while a spirit of fulsome
eulogy is avoided, there is ample justice done to the memory of a great and
a good man.”—<i>Pbn. Banner.</i></s>
.ti end
.in

.nf c
<l>Memoirs of John Kitto, D.D.</l>
Author of “Daily Bible Illustrations,” etc. 2 vols. 12mo. $2\_00.
.nf-

.in +1
.ti -1 begin
<s>“We have rarely heard of a more remarkable instance of the triumph of talent
and energy over circumstances the most adverse. He began life struggling
with the evils of poverty, and the baleful influence of an intemperate father.
A dangerous fall from a ladder, when he was a mason’s boy, rendered him
hopelessly deaf. Being considered unable to support himself, he was put into
the workhouse; and after a series of vicissitudes which would have overwhelmed
an ordinary boy—at one time working as a shoemaker, at another as
a barber’s apprentice, and by various shifts managing to toil along his rugged
pathway—he at length, through a kind Providence, struck the highway on
which he afterwards traveled successfully to distinction and usefulness.”—<i>Presbyterian.</i></s>
.ti end
.in

.nf c
<l>Memoirs of Capt. Vicars of the 97th Regiment.</l>
16mo. 75\_cents.
.nf-

.in +1
.ti -1 begin
<s>“The subject of these memoirs, was generous and noble in his natural disposition,
in all his intercourse with his fellows. As a soldier he was brave, and as
an officer skillful and prompt; but all these things were eclipsed by the ardor
and devotedness of his piety. Among the soldiers in the Crimea he spent his
leisure hours, in ministering spiritual consolation to the sick and dying in the
hospital. In the lives of missionaries which we have read, none have proved
by their works a better right to be called a missionary than he.”—<i>Witness.</i></s>
.ti end
.in

.nf c
<l>The Victory Won.</l>
By the Author of “Captain Vicars,” 18mo. 25\_cents.

<l>Memoirs of Adelaide Leaper Newton.</l>
By the Rev. John Baillie. 75\_cents.
.nf-

.in +1
.ti -1 begin
<s>“This is certainly a rare specimen of female biography. The subject of it was
among the most gifted and cultivated of her sex. The Word of God was not
only the light, but the food of her soul; and the enjoyments of heaven seem to
have been in no small degree vouchsafed to her before she left the world.”—<i>Puritan
Recorder.</i></s>
.ti end
.in

.nf c
<l>The Martyr of Sumatra.</l>
A Memoir of Henry Lyman.
.nf-

.pb

.bn 399.png

<b>BICKERSTETH</b>, Rev. Edward.

.in +4
<b>* Complete Works.</b> 16 vols. $10\_00.

<b>Exposition of the Epistles of John and Jude.</b> 60\_cents.
.in

<b>BINNEY</b>, Rev. Thomas.

.in +4
<b>Is it possible to make the Best of Both Worlds?</b> 60\_cts.
.in

<b>BRIDGES</b>, Rev. Charles.

.in +4
<b>A Manual for the Young.</b> 16mo. 50\_cents.
.in

<b>CHART</b>

.in +4
<b>Of the Sacred History of the World</b>. $1\_50.
.in

<b>DA COSTA</b>, Dr. Isaac.

.in +4
<b>Israel and the Gentiles.</b> 12mo. $1\_25.

<b>The Four Witnesses.</b> $2\_00.
.in

<b>FLETCHER</b>, Rev. Alexander.

.in +4
<b>Addresses to the Young.</b> 16mo. 60\_cents.
.in

<b>HEWITSON</b>, Rev. W. H.

.in +4
<b>Letters and Remains.</b> 2 vols. $2\_00.
.in

<b>HOWELS</b>, Rev. William.

.in +4
<b>Remains and Extracts from Sermons.</b> 75\_cents.
.in

<b>LECTURES TO YOUNG MEN.</b>

.in +4
Delivered in London. Series of 1854–5–6. Each $1\_00.
.in

<b>RYLE</b>, Rev. J. C.

.in +4
<b>Expository Thoughts on the Gospels</b>; for Family and Private Use. 12mo.
.in

<b>SMITH</b>, Rev. John Pye.

.in +4
<b>* Scripture Testimony to the Messiah.</b> 2 vols., 8vo. $5\_00.
.in

<b>* SELF-EXPLANATORY REFERENCE BIBLE.</b>

.in +4
8vo. Half-calf, $4\_50; Turkey morocco, $6\_00.
.in

<b>SWETE</b>, Rev. John.

.in +4
<b>Family Prayers.</b> 16mo. 60\_cents.
.in

<b>VILLAGE CHURCHYARD.</b>

.in +4
40\_cents.
.in

<b>VILLAGE PASTOR.</b>

.in +4
40\_cents.
.in

<b>VILLAGE OBSERVER.</b>

.in +4
30\_cents.
.in

<b>WORDS TO WIN SOULS.</b> 75\_cents.

.pb

.bn 400.png

.nf c
<xl>FIRESIDE LIBRARY.</xl>

<l>FIRST SERIES.</l>
<s>50 cents per volume.</s>
.nf-

.ul style=none
.it ADOPTED SON.
.it AUNT EDITH.
.it BALLANTYNE’S MABEL GRANT.
.it BLOSSOMS OF CHILDHOOD.
.it BRETT’S INDIAN TRIBES.
.it BROTHER AND SISTER.
.it BUNYAN’S PILGRIM’S PROGRESS.
.it CLARA STANLEY.
.it CLAREMONT TALES.
.it DRUMMOND’S EMILY RENON.
.it DUNCAN’S CHILDREN OF MANSE.
.it DUNCAN’S SCOTTISH PEASANTRY.
.it FAR OFF.
.it FLORENCE EGERTON.
.it GELDART’S MAY DUNDAS.
.it HAMILTON’S HAPPY HOME.
.it INFANT’S PROGRESS.
.it JAMIE GORDON.
.it JEANIE MORRISON.
.it KATE KILBORN.
.it LOUIS AND FRANK.
.it MACKAY’S FAM. HEATHERDALE.
.it M‘CRINDELL’S CONVENT.
.it MY SCHOOL DAY’S AND COMPAN.
.it NEAR HOME.
.it OSBORNE’S WORLD OF WATERS.
.it POLLOK’S TALES OF COVENANT.
.it SIGOURNEY’S OLIVE LEAVES.
.it SIGOURNEY’S LETTERS TO PUPILS.
.it SINCLAIR’S HOLIDAY HOUSE.
.it TAYLOR’S CONTRIB. OF Q. Q.
.it TUCKER’S ABBEOKUTA.
.it TUCKER’S RAINBOW IN NORTH.
.it TUCKER’S SOUTHERN CROSS.
.it WEEK, THE.
.it WILLIAM WILBERFORCE.
.it WOODCUTTER AND EXILES.
.ul-

.nf c
<l>SECOND SERIES.</l>
<s>40 cents per volume.</s>
.nf-

.ul style=none
.it ASHTON COTTAGE.
.it CHARLES ROUSSELL.
.it COMMANDMENT WITH PROMISE.
.it DUNCAN’S COTTAGE FIRESIDE.
.it FRANK NETHERTON.
.it FRITZ HAROLD.
.it JOHNSON’S RASSELAS.
.it MICHAEL KEMP.
.it OPIE ON LYING.
.it RICHMOND’S ANNALS OF POOR.
.it SIGOURNEY’S BOY’S BOOK.
.it SIGOURNEY’S GIRL’S BOOK.
.it TAYLOR’S ORIGINAL POEMS.
.ul-

.nf c
<l>THIRD SERIES.</l>
<s>30 cents per volume.</s>
.nf-

.ul style=none
.it CAMERON’S FARM. DAUGHTER.
.it FRANK HARRISON.
.it GREAT JOURNEY.
.it KENNEDY’S ANNA ROSS.
.it KENNEDY’S PROF. NOT PRINCIPLE.
.it KENNEDY’S FATHER CLEMENT.
.it KENNEDY’S PHILIP COLVILLE.
.it MY SCHOOL-BOY DAYS.
.it MY YOUTHFUL COMPANIONS.
.it SINCLAIR’S CHARLIE SEYMOUR.
.it STORIES ON LORD’S PRAYER.
.it THREE MONTHS UNDER SNOW.
.it TAYLOR’S DISPLAY. A Tale.
.ul-

.nf c
<l>FOURTH SERIES.</l>
<s>25 cents per volume.</s>
.nf-

.ul style=none
.it AUSTRALIA, LOSS OF THE.
.it BUNBERY’S GLORY, GLORY.
.it COLLIER’S TALE.
.it FISK’S ORPHAN TALE.
.it KENNEDY’S DECISION.
.it KENNEDY’S JESSY ALLAN.
.it PASTOR’S FAMILY.
.it POLLOK’S HELEN OF GLEN.
.it POLLOK’S PERSECUTED FAMILY.
.it POLLOK’S RALPH GUNMEL.
.it TRUE HEROISM.
.it WALTER BINNING.
.it WINGS AND STINGS.
.ul-

.tb

.nf c
<xl>JUVENILE LIBRARY.</xl>
<s>Square, 50 cents each.</s>
.nf-

.ul style=none
.it CLEVER STORIES.
.it LITTLE LESSONS.
.it RHYMES FOR THE NURSERY.
.it MAMMA’S BIBLE STORIES.
.it SEQUEL TO BIBLE STORIES.
.it HUNDRED SHORT TALES.
.it TENDER GRASS.
.it CALL TO THE LAMBS.
.it FANNY AND HER MAMMA.
.it CHILD’S OWN STORY-BOOK.
.it LIMED TWIGS.
.it NEW COBWEBS.
.ul-

.tb

.ul style=none
.it ANNIE’S FIRST BOOK. 35 cents.
.it ANNIE’S SECOND BOOK. 40 cents.
.it DUTY IS SAFETY. 25 cents.
.it JACK THE SAILOR BOY. 25 cents.
.it THINK BEFORE YOU ACT. 25 cts.
.it HYMNS FOR INFANT MINDS. 40 cts.
.it VERY LITTLE TALES. 2 vols. 75 cts.
.ul-

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.nf c
<xl>CARTERS’ PUBLICATIONS.</xl>

<l>The Rich Kinsman.</l>
The History of Ruth the Moabitess, by Stephen H. Tyng, D.D. 16mo. $1.
.nf-

.in +1
.ti -1 begin
<s>“The author presents this work in the hope that it will be found adapted to enlighten
the minds of the young in some of the great subjects of Scriptural instruction....
The author has been long impressed with the feeling that neither
commentaries nor sermons have yet made that simple and practical use of the
fullness of Scripture truth for which it is adapted—perhaps he might say for
which it is designed. The young mind certainly can be interested in the word
of God, as a book full of attraction as well as full of truth. Whoever can be
made in any degree the instrument of leading to this result, by bringing out to
view the real attractions of Scripture, confers so far an invaluable benefit upon
others.”—<i>Extract from the Preface.</i></s>
.ti end
.in

.nf c
<l>The Truth and Life.</l>
<sc>A Series of Discourses.</sc> By Bishop McIlvaine, of Ohio. 8vo. $2.
.nf-

.in +1
.ti -1 begin
<s>“We have seldom met with a more admirable volume of Sermons than the one
now lying before us. *\_*\_* The subjects are varied, but in all there is the
same clearness, and fullness of Gospel truth. *\_*\_* We can assure our readers
that there is a freshness and power pervading the work, which is most delightful
to find in this age of flimsy sentiment and idealistic abstractions.”—<i>Banner.</i></s>
.ti end
.in

.nf c
<l>The Saints’ Everlasting Rest.</l>
By Richard Baxter. The ONLY COMPLETE EDITION ever published in the United States. One volume royal 8vo. $2.
.nf-

.in +1
.ti -1 begin
<s>“There are no religious works which have had, next to John Bunyan’s “Pilgrim’s
Progress,” so extensive, increasing, and continued circulation, as those of Richard
Baxter. ‘The Saints’ Rest’ is eminently a favorite with Christians, and has been
richly blessed. The volume in general use is an abridgment, well executed, of
the original, and is not as much as one-half of its compass. However well condensed,
an abridgment can not retain and exhibit all the merits of the original,
and very many of the lovers of the smaller volume will hail and embrace the
opportunity of obtaining the original work, in the present neat and acceptable
form.”—<i>Christian Intelligencer.</i></s>
.ti end
.in

.nf c
<l>Discourses on Truth.</l>
By J. H. Thornwell, D.D., President of the South Carolina College, Columbia, S. C. 12mo. $1.
.nf-

.in +1
.ti -1 begin
<s>“The Ethics are of the loftiest standard, breathing a pure theology, and informed
by a sound psychology, and presented in a form of compacted logic. It is a
tonic for both mind and heart to read these able expositions of the moral system
of Christianity. *\_*\_* To those who <i>think</i>, it will be found a dish of strong
meat, the inward digestion of which will give vigor to both the mental and
spiritual man.”—<i>Watchman and Observer.</i></s>
.ti end
.in

.nf c
<l>Fritz Harold; or, the Temptation.</l>
By Mrs. Sarah A. Meyers. 16mo. Illustrated. 40\_cents.

<l>May Dundas; or, Passages from Young Life.</l>
By Mrs. Thomas Geldart. Illustrated. 16mo. 50\_cents.

<l>The Christian Patriot.</l>
A Memoir of William Wilberforce. 75\_cents.
.nf-

.in +2
.ti -2 begin
<s>This new Memoir of the Christian, the patriot, and philanthropist, is from the pen
of a gifted American lady, and will be read with intense interest by all classes
of readers.</s>
.ti end
.in

.bn 402.png

.nf c
<l>The Autobiography and Reminiscences of the Rev. Wm. Jay.</l>
2 vols. royal 12mo. $1\_25.
.nf-

.in +1
.ti -1 begin
<s>“Few names are so extensively known in the Christian communities of Great
Britain and the United States as that of William Jay. His ‘Morning and Evening
Exercises’ is in the great majority of Christian families. The Autobiography is
written in a style of great simplicity and pleasantness. The reminiscences by
Mr. Jay of prominent individuals with whom he was well acquainted—as John
Newton, Richard Cecil, Robert Hall, William Wilberforce, and others, are graphic
and entertaining, and replete with anecdote.”—<i>Christian Intelligencer.</i></s>

<s>“This is a delightful work. The autobiography is a simple story of his life, in letters
addressed to his children, beginning with bricklayer boy at Beckford’s Abbey,
whose sweet face attracted the attention of Cornelius Winter, and led to the
bringing out of the ‘boy preacher,’ and ending with the venerable patriarch of
Bath, whose name and writings were known and loved all over Protestant
Christendom.”—<i>Watchman.</i></s>

<s>“As an autobiography, this will do to go along with that of Hugh Miller.”—<i>Journal.</i></s>
.ti end
.in

.nf c
By the same author.

<l>I. Morning and Evening Exercises.</l>
A new edition in 4 royal 12mo vols. $4.
.nf-

.in +1
.ti -1 begin
<s>“This edition of the Exercises is in four large 12mo volumes. It is remarkably
well printed in large, clear type, and on clear, white paper, so that the old and
those of weak sight can enjoy the good things prepared for them by one of the
most pious and best writers which the world has produced.”—<i>Christ. Advocate.</i></s>
.ti end
.in

.nf c
<l>II. Female Scripture Characters.</l>
12mo. $1.
.nf-

.in +1
.ti -1 begin
<s>“By all sincere Christian women, the world over, this volume will be regarded as
a spiritual treasure.”—<i>Presbyterian.</i></s>
.ti end
.in

.nf c
<l>Paley’s Evidences of Christianity,</l>
With Notes and Additions. By Charles Murray Nairne, M.A. 12mo. $1.25.
.nf-

.in +1
.ti -1 begin
<s>“It would be a work of supererogation, at this late day, to dwell on the peculiar
excellences of Paley’s treatise on the Evidences of Christianity. It is not probable
it will ever be superseded. Its learning, its exactness, its wonderful clearness
of thought, its logical force, are incomparable. * * * * * * * The American
editor has fortified the points in which Paley has failed, and, by his additional
matter, has unquestionably furnished the best, as well as the safest edition
of Paley extant.”—<i>Presbyterian.</i></s>

<s>“The Editor of this work, we hesitate not to say, is a man of extraordinary intellect
and acquirements, and he has done what it may safely be said that few are
capable of doing, has given additional attraction and value to Paley’s Evidences
of Christianity. The introductory article, entitled ‘Claims of Divine Revelation,’
could never have been the production of any other than a master-mind.”—<i>Puritan
Recorder.</i></s>

<s>“As one of the impregnable defences of the historical verity of the facts of Christianity,
the work of Paley stands unrivaled and complete. *\_*\_* The notes
and additions of Prof. Nairne make it more valuable than any edition hitherto
published. The labors of Chalmers, Hill, Wardlaw, Campbell, Alexander, Hitchcock,
Miller, Birks, and many others, are here put under contribution.”—<i>Presbyterian
of the West.</i></s>
.ti end
.in

.bn 403.png

.nf c
<l>The Footsteps of St. Paul.</l>
By the author of the “Morning and Night Watches.” 12mo. Illustrated. $1\_00.
.nf-

.in +1
.ti -1 begin
<s>“‘The Footsteps of St. Paul’ is the title of an able and instructive work, presenting
a consecutive history of the life, labors, and teachings of the great Apostle.
It interweaves, in the narrative, all the direct disclosures of the Acts, the incidental
intimations of the Epistles, all the outside information extant, and many
conjectural statements derived from a comparison of different parts of Scripture.
But he has written it in an animated and graphic style, and imbued it with a
fine spirit. It leaves a strong impression on the reader’s mind. It is copiously
illustrated with maps and engravings, and is every way a scholarly performance.”—<i>Evangelist.</i></s>

<s>“The Carters have published a multitude of good books, but, unless we greatly
mistake, this will be reckoned among the best of them.”—<i>Puritan Recorder.</i></s>
.ti end
.in

.nf c
By the same author.

<l>I. The Words of Jesus.</l>
16mo. 40\_cents.
.nf-

.in +1
.ti -1 begin
<s>“This admirable little volume illustrates and applies some of the precious utterances
of the blessed Saviour, in language chaste, simple, affectionate, and urgent,
enlightening the thoughts, exciting the affections, subduing the passions, guiding
the soul, like the star of Bethlehem, to the meek and lowly Saviour.”—<i>Watchman.</i></s>
.ti end
.in

.nf c
<l>II. The Mind of Jesus.</l>
16mo. 40\_cents.

<l>III. Morning and Night Watches.</l>
16mo. 60\_cents.
.nf-

.in +1
.ti -1 begin
<s>“A precious volume of religious truth most pleasingly and scripturally presented
for the comfort and edification of the people of God.”—<i>Observer.</i></s>
.ti end
.in

.nf c
<l>IV. Family Prayers.</l>
16mo. 75\_cents.
.nf-

.in +1
.ti -1 begin
<s>“Simple, evangelical, earnest, and well-adapted to prove a devotional help.”—<i>Christian
Herald.</i></s>

<s>“Direct, fervent, and comprehensive.”—<i>Evangelist.</i></s>
.ti end
.in

.nf c
<l>V. The Woodcutter, and The Exiles.</l>
18mo. 50\_cents.

<l>VI. The Great Journey:</l>
<sc>A Pilgrimage through the Valley of Tears to Mount Zion, the City of the Living God.</sc> Illustrated. 16mo. 50\_cents.

<l>Family Prayers.</l>
By the Rev. John Swete, D.D. 16mo. 60\_cents.

<l>Family Expositions of John and Jude.</l>
By the Rev. Edward Bickersteth. 16mo. 60\_cents.
.nf-

.bn 404.png

.nf c
<l>The Young Man’s Friend and Guide through Life to Immortality.</l>
By the Rev. John Angel James. 16mo. 75\_cents.
.nf-

.in +1
.ti -1 begin
<s>“The young men of our land have in this book a rare treasure. Every page is
fraught with instruction of momentous interest. No young man who would
prepare for the life that now is, and for that which is to come, should fail to
read it.”—<i>Advocate.</i></s>
.ti end
.in

.nf c
<l>Preces Paulinæ; or, Devotions of the Apostle Paul.</l>
16mo. 75\_cents.
.nf-

.in +1
.ti -1 begin
<s>“A gem of no ordinary worth. *\_*\_* We may briefly describe it, and this
because we think its title fails to do so, as a Treatise on Prayer, founded on the
instances of prayer recorded of, and by, the Apostle Paul. It is searching, devotional,
practical, and profitable.”—<i>Christian Annotator.</i></s>
.ti end
.in

.nf c
<l>Philip Colville, a Covenanter’s Story.</l>
By Grace Kennedy, author of “Anna Ross.” 18mo. 30\_cts.

<l>The Dead in Christ; their State, Present and Future.</l>
By John Brown, D.D. 16mo. 50\_cents.

<l>Memoir of John Frederick Oberlin, Pastor of the Waldbach in the Ban De La Roche.</l>
18mo. 40\_cents.
.nf-

.in +1
.ti -1 begin
<s>“The mind that does not rise from this memoir excited and mightier for God, has
a heartlessness and apathy none will covet.”—<i>Halsey.</i></s>
.ti end
.in

.nf c
<l>Israel and the Gentiles.</l>
Contributions to the History of the Jews from the earliest time to the present day. By Dr. Isaac Da Costa. $1.25.

<l>Stray Arrows.</l>
By the Rev. T. L. Cuyler, new and enlarged edition. 18mo. 40\_cents.

<l>Emily Vernon; or, Filial Piety Exemplified.</l>
By Mrs. Drummond. 50\_cents.
.nf-

.in +1
.ti -1 begin
<s>“Most cordially do we recommend it as a gift to young ladies who have passed
their sixteenth birthday.”—<i>British Mothers’ Magazine.</i></s>

<s>“The story is simple, but beautiful in its simplicity; while here and there we
meet with passages of exquisite grace and pathos. It has our hearty recommendation.”—<i>Commonwealth.</i></s>
.ti end
.in

.nf c
<l>A Chart of the Sacred History of the World from the Creation to the Birth of Christ,</l>
.nf-

.in +2
.ti -2 begin
Being a Synchronical arrangement of the leading events of sacred
and profane history; subdivided into periods, embellished by
pictorial illustrations, and accompanied by a concise Introductory
Sketch, and copious notes. Folio. $1.50
.ti end
.in

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Footnotes

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<b>Transcriber’s Notes</b>

Some inconsistencies in spelling, hyphenation, and punctuation have been
retained.

.if t
This file uses <i>underscores</i> to indicate italic text and <b>equals signs</b>
to indicate bold text.
.if-

Itemized changes from the original text:

.ul
.it #p. ix:Page_ix#: changed “Protestanism” to “Protestantism” (Protestantism, like the primitive Church,)
.it #p. xxxiii:Page_xxxiii#:
.ul
.it changed “Sarbonne” to “Sorbonne” (Expelled from the Sorbonne,)
.it changed “be” to “he” (for the eucharist, he insinuated)
.it changed “Sarbonne” to “Sorbonne” (expulsion from the Sorbonne,)
.ul-
.it #p. xxxv:Page_xxxv#: changed “Sarbonne” to “Sorbonne” (before the Sorbonne was in dependence,)
.it #p. 94:Page_94#: changed “perfeet” to “perfect” (the most perfect harmony)
.it #p. 103:Page_103#: added missing quote mark based on context and 1875 Chatto & Windus edition (written in letters of gold.”)
.it #p. 104:Page_104#: changed “terrribly” to “terribly” (I am terribly afraid)
.it #p. 110:Page_110#: changed “nnmber” to “number” (the number of our offences)
.it #p. 143:Page_143#: changed “Filiutus” to “Filiutius” (as Filiutius says.)
.it #p. 146:Page_146#: added missing quote mark based on context and 1875 Chatto & Windus edition (gone into desuetude’)
.it #p. 168:Page_168#: changed “sylllogism” to “syllogism” (a syllogism in due form,)
.it #p. 204:Page_204#: added missing quote mark based on context and 1875 Chatto & Windus edition (than to live well.’)
.it #p. 209:Page_209#: inserted missing opening quote mark (‘if the confessor imposes) based on context as well as 1847 John Johnstone edition, 1875 & 1898 Chatto & Windus editions
.it #p. 211:Page_211#: changed “was” to “has” (who has probed this question)
.it #p. 218:Page_218#: added missing quote mark based on context (sufficient with the sacrament.’)
.it #p. 286:Page_286#: changed “surmont” to “surmount” (to surmount external obstacles)
.it #p. 322:Page_322#: removed extraneous closing quote mark based on context and 1875 Chatto & Windus edition (adored in the sanctuary)
.it #p. 340:Page_340#: removed extraneous closing quote mark based on context and 1875 Chatto & Windus edition (you may profit by my example.)
.it #p. 345:Page_345#: removed extraneous closing quote mark based on context and 1875 Chatto & Windus edition (any more than his book?)
.it #p. 347:Page_347#: changed “M. de l aLane” to “M. de la Lane” based on 1890 Houghton, Osgood And Company edition.
.it #p. 349:Page_349#: added missing closing quote based on context and 1875 Chatto & Windus edition (purgare, sed facere”.)
.ul-

In the end-of-book publisher’s catalog, some repeated words were indicated by
quote marks (”). These were replaced with the repeated word, for formatting
reasons.

.dv-